#PURPOSES HUH. SURE HOPE THOSE END UP BEING THINGS I’M CAPABLE OF BEING NORMAL ABOUT. AHA.

[dirtbra1n]

Sasaki and Ogasawara drabble jumpscare. [scuttles off] (i am practicing writing them for Purposes)

AUUHHHGGHHHHHHH…….. hey malt. Hey malt. malt. hey. H

[retrocontinuity]

rev, rev, fight the power: thoughts on the first half of chainsaw man

Spoilers through the end of the Bomb Girl Arc.

Devil Hunting in the Age of Fascism

As one of the cohosts of a podcast on Gundam Wing in 2020/2021, I've been thinking a lot about how authoritarian regimes and the concept of societal control is treated in anime. Which is to say: usually in a very limited sense, and based on the actions of a few bad actors, as demonstrated with its effects on a few unfortunate protagonists. It's not that creators don't care about the issue, but rather a sign that the genre (and yes, I do consider manga/anime to be a genre more than just a medium, but that's for another time) and its conventions are not particularly well-suited to showing you those effects.

So, Chainsaw Man. On an individual character level, Fujimoto has some stuff to say about the choice between death and life, and I do want to talk about that and what it says about the characters and what life means in CSM. But it's hard to tell whether or not he meant to create a world with some really fucked up institutions too. 

For instance, the civilian, non-public sector Devil Hunters. These appear to be explicitly authorized by the Japanese government, to the point where it is a crime for the Public Safety division's hunters to kill a devil that a civilian is in the process of capturing. They don't have guns (this is Japan!) and I imagine they are only allowed to kill Devils, but just, like, think about this. What if you kill someone else in the process of trying to kill a Devil? What if you suspect someone is a Fiend but actually they're just acting weird? What if you kill someone, then claim later it's because you thought they were a Devil?

This is likely the American in me talking, but I can’t help thinking about how badly this would be abused and how horrible an idea that would be. And I can’t help but think about how the Devils allow the world of CSM to separate fears from human nature. By which I mean, in the world of CSM, evil is otherized in a very specific way; they’re represented by very individual, very distinct, and very monstrous representations. Here is the fear of scissors, the fear of sharks, the fear of the future, and so on. But in the real world, we know it isn’t just fear itself that is the problem; it’s people, well-meaning or otherwise, animated by those fears that create the most evil, or people harnessing those fears to gain power. This may be unfair—I don’t know what Fujimoto has planned for Makima, whose mythos and power seems very much wrapped up in the idea of using Devils to her own advantage. But there’s an assumption here that all actions taken towards eradication of the Devils, or maybe just one Gun Devil, is a de facto good. And in 2021, that’s a very unnerving position to take.

Death in Chainsaw Man is a sacrifice. In these early arcs of the series, death is a "contract," an expending of activation energy to achieve something else. So Pochita gives Denji life (which is really a contract repaid, for when Denji gave him life), so the Devil Hunters "trade" something in a contract with a Devil for power (like Aki giving away literal years of his life to his curse sword), so Denji dying to the Eternity Devil would have freed the rest of the team. But there are plenty of deaths in the series where nothing is traded, nothing is given. These tend to be nameless victims or, in one harrowing scene, convicted felons who die at the hands of Makima as she chases down Katana Devil. 

What did they gain? What was the contract formed by the deaths of these 雑魚?

Makima says at some point when she's attacking the gangs that are affiliated with the Katana Devil that "the truly necessary evils are always kept collared and controlled by the state." Which I think is at its face about the fiends and Devils kept “collared” by the Public Safety Bureau. But maybe it’s also about the idea of sacrifice, about giving yourself over to the state, in order to control a world thrown into chaos. The contracts formed by the deaths of those ordinary citizens is meant to bring about an eradication of fear. It gives birth to the Public Safety Devil Hunters, to Devil Hunters in general, to the use of whatever means necessary to achieve an end. But whatever those consequences are, we only see them in the fates of Denji, Chainsaw Man, and the impossible characters around him. 

A state under threat, a state that feels like it must collar evil in order to survive, will have ruinous consequences. I just hope we get to see what those are. 

Just A Teenage Dirtbag, (Bomb) Baby

I read some reviews about Denji being the anti-shounen shounen manga hero which I can presume were written by people whose only frame of reference is Bleach, Naruto, or One Piece. Sure, the Big Three were, in their most simplistic forms, feel-good series, and CSM's first half is basically a feel-bad series, but that hardly makes it unusual. It's really not dissimilar from other manga like Homunculus, Freesia, and Oyasumi Punpun. Of course, only old fogies like me, who still remember getting scanlations of these series off of IRC, and query, of course, whether or not those series are shounen at all, or more like seinen. If it were up to me to name the genre, and of course it is not, I would call it “simply another line of stories about fucked up things happen to fucked up people.”

Many fucked up things have happened to Denji. I’d call it traumatic, but I don’t think “trauma” covers what this poor man has been through. The effect, though, has been to make Denji less than human, even in his human form.

Denji and Power's nonchalance towards the fate of their human coworkers who die to Katana Devil and Sawatari is framed by the manga through Denji as a potential sign of callousness. Kishibe notes it as a sign that they are "insane," in other words, "not like other humans," and thus capable of bringing down something like the Gun Devil, which would otherwise drive "normal humans" insane. 

But like, huh? Denji and Power's reactions are, on the contrary, extremely human, because there’s no reason for them to extend feeling towards other humans. Simply put, they’ve never been human to the humans around them. They seem to be bonded most closely to each other, and in fact almost all the Fiends are, because the wider Public Safety employees treat them so poorly. Remember how the Infinity Devil Arc starts? Basically, they're told to be the advance guard, and threatened to be killed if they ever act out. Denji is kept on a short leash, and is so proud (in front of Reze) that he's allowed to go places on his own now.

Which, I'm not saying that that's wrong. Denji is incredibly dumb, holds monstrous power that could easily be tricked into using for horrible purposes, and appears to be the target of a number of Gun Devil's allies. Power is... well. I wouldn't let her out of sight either. But what Makima does that makes Denji feel so loyal, so utterly tied to her, is simply treating him as a human. She convinces him he has a heart, just like any other human. She tells him about all the love experiences he'll have in the future, because he's just a human teenager. And just like Makima, Reze is able to bond with Denji by treating him like an ordinary 16-year-old horny boy. Is it because as a Devil she knows what he wants the most? What he is craving, and never had? It doesn't matter that Denji had been just an ordinary human before fusing with Pochita or before he began his life as a Devil Hunter; as an orphan growing up on the street, unwanted and unloved, he was no more human than a Devil.  

The ending of the Bomb Girl Arc—with Denji asking Reze to run away with him, only to be stood up—reminded me so very much of Aku no Hana. There's the classroom scenes between Reze and Denji, of course, but mostly I think about how Denji—betrayed, injured, manipulated Denji—still asks Reze to run away with him. I'd written about Aku no Hana before, how one of the saddest things about Nakamura is that she cannot imagine a world beyond her current circumstance (and, in fact, the manga ends up dooming her to stagnation). Denji and Reze are Nakamura and Kasuga's perverse mirror. It is because Denji doesn't have the capacity to imagine a larger world beyond his immediate now, three meals a day and a job and this woman who taught him how to swim, that he asks her to do this impossible thing, to run away with him knowing that to do would mean both of them betraying their masters. It is because Reze knows that it is impossible that she does not meet Denji at the cafe. Reze is more human than Denji, because she is capable of dreams, and because she is capable of dreaming, she knows she cannot afford their luxury. She knows too much about the world and its cruelty. And, so, she walks straight into its open maw, and straight into her death.

I don't think we can take Reze at her word that she wanted to be a town mouse, or rather we should say instead that Reze proves that the division between the town mouse and the country mouse is immaterial. The issue is that both, in the end, are only mice, dreaming of a safety they can never achieve. Safety, in the world of CSM, is neither town mouse nor country mouse. It is to not be mice at all. It is to be the dog that digs them out from the cold winter dirt. 

It is, in fact, to be Makima, the person who orders the dogs to kill the mice.

Denji, aim for the top! Transcend the town mouse/country mouse divide! Or else you will constantly be hunted and used!

(Side note: CSM goes at a break-neck pace, and I think the speed through which Fujimoto rushes through these early storylines has made it very difficult for me to actually connect with the characters. Reze and Denji’s relationship is one of the victims to this pacing. Do I believe that Denji could fall for a girl and be willing to risk it all for her after about 3 chapters worth of interaction? Sure, he’s that kind of guy. But does it work for me? Not particularly. We’ve hardly had time to linger with Reze before she swears she’ll protect Denji forever, as long as he’ll run away with her. Though the reader at that point knows there’s something off about Reze, it’s still just not believable. Reze’s actions seem like someone trying to bulldoze her way into Denji’s affections, and though she herself is a bittersweet character, I just really feel like CSM could have spent less time with Bomb Devil vs Chainsaw Man and more time with Reze and Denji.)

No Ethical Women Under Capitalism

The Eternity Devil arc, for all its mini-boss game feel (it wouldn’t be out of place as one of the floors in Tower of God), struck a nerve with me, if only because it felt, however unintentionally, to be a story about working under modern capitalism. A floor you can never leave, that loops endless, where the only way to escape is to destroy it, literally, from the inside, by making it so painful, an eternal feedback loop of destroying ourselves and destroying it, before it opens its heart to us. The Capitalism Devil threatens us, tries to tear us apart. Asks us to sacrifice the strongest, the weakest, anybody among us, as if by climbing over the bodies of our friends and coworkers, we can come out ahead. It makes us suspicious of each other, ready to tear into any weakness for an advantage. 

No wonder this is the chapter where Kobeni lays bare her reasons for joining the Public Safety bureau. She needed to work, to make money. Her options were to be a sex worker or a Devil Hunter. Either way, she was selling her body to the system. Kobeni is a victim of capitalism, which forces her to do what she hates, for goal that are not hers, and then gaslights us into thinking that she’s wrong for being crazy, she’s wrong for losing her shit, for not being able to handle it.

But... that's an asspull for me, even if it's my ass and I'm the one pulling. I'm truly not sure how to feel about Kobeni. Like, what is her deal?! I’m not sure what to make of her appearance in Chapter 20 in her sister’s hand-me-down. Are we supposed to pity her? See ourselves in her? Even in what I think was intended to be a mic-drop-ish line (at least for her), telling Aki that she didn’t quit because she was waiting on her bonus, landed flat for me, too deadpan to be pathetic and not sharp enough to be actually funny. Part of it may be because she is a character very much shaped by her circumstances as opposed to her personality or any interaction/action she does onscreen, but we don’t actually see her family situation in these chapters. We’re left with a painfully shy and cowardly woman who can’t seem to form any human connections with any of the other characters, who in multiple scenes is shown caving to the slightest pressure or threat.

Do the rest of the women fare any better? I’m not sure. Kobeni is unique in that she does not use her gender/sex appeal to manipulate the men around her and/or Denji (even Power lets Denji cop a feel to get her cat back!). Himeno, Makima, and Reze all hide their intentions for Denji behind the veil of his attraction to them (weak or strong) and are either unable or unwilling to be forthright in their desires and ambitions (Himeno to care for Aki; Reze, to accomplish whatever mission Gun Devil had her set out to do; and Makima, for fuck do I know at this point, but she’s up to something!!). Meanwhile, the men are straightforward to a fault. Did Fujimoto intend this? Is this just a subconscious reveal of his own conceptions of gender and Bitches Be Weird? 

I’m not a person who needs to have a strong female narrative in a story, but when you start a story with a protagonist whose life ambition for many chapters was just to feel a boob, you better be careful, you know? CSM doesn’t lack for women; Makima and Power are both formidable characters in their own rights, self-assured and unbeholden to anyone but themselves. But so far almost every arc has featured a woman offering herself to Denji sexually in order to get him to do what they want. It’s getting real old real fast. 

[carbrakes-and-stakes]

Reeducation & restraint

TIMING: A couple days ago LOCATION : White Crest General Hospital PARTIES : @notsoharsh​ & @carbrakes-and-stakes​ SUMMARY : Therapy, patience and suspicion.

Harsh cast another glance over the chart in his hands, frowning. He didn’t usually have much to do with physical therapy, but it was darker out earlier now and it never hurt to pick up a couple extra shifts where he could. It was just his job to get them in and out, no big deal. This one gave him pause though. Loss of limb wasn’t exactly anything new in White Crest, Harsh had seen his fair share of people in all parts of that process. What was weird were the doctor’s notes. Five weeks in, but healing like it had been months. That wasn’t totally out of the ordinary either. Well, in some terms. Plenty of things healed a lot quicker than run of the mill humans, enough that the staff at WC General had stopped worrying about it. Harsh couldn’t exactly fault them for that. With all the batshit things going on, complaining about people getting better too quickly would’ve been insane. Still, it made Harsh hesitate outside the room for a minute. There was no reason to be too concerned. He had helped plenty of patients who got better a little faster than they should have. This would be fine. Sticking his easy smile into place, he lightly knocked on the door before letting himself in. “Hey there, Mr. Babineaux. You ready to head home? Anything I can do for you before I get you out of here?”

A puzzled look on his face, Alain looked at the door. There was a vampire on the other side of that door, this much he knew. If he claimed that he was done hunting, his distaste for the species was not gone, and his resting frown intensified as the door opened. His eyes caught the name on the tag, and he replied with a stiff upper-lip : “I think I will be fine,” his hand reached for the back of his chair as he pulled himself up. Standing on his leg, the man gave the hospital worker a concerned look, wondering if he would just approach anyway. Reaching for his crutches, Alain noticed only then that his therapist had left them on the other side of the room. Of course. Biting on his cheek, he glanced from the crutches to the other man, then back at the crutches. “Would you mind?” If he was not thrilled about accepting his help, hopping around like a spring was out of the question too.

Apparently having just the one leg wasn’t going to keep this guy down. Harsh could respect that. He wasn’t sure if he should trust it though. If anyone was going to lose a limb and keep on swinging it would be some kind of hunter. Then again, there were plenty of corners of the supernatural world he had never even dipped a toe into. This could be nothing. “Huh?” He followed Alain’s glance and nodded. “Yeah, of course.” He crossed the room and grabbed the crutches. “Do you want me to wheel you out of here? I can grab a chair, it’s a lot faster,” he said, offering Alain the crutches. Those probably couldn’t be used as a stake… probably. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around much before. I’ll probably be helping you for the next couple weeks, we just switched shifts around. I’m Harsh, by the way. I like to try to get to know my patients.” Maybe if he could keep up the friendly smile, this would be fine. He was probably already overthinking things. This was fine.

The prospect of having to accept the vampire's help did not enchant Alain, but the man was so tired that he had decided, at least for this morning, to put aside his hatred for them and to let the vampire help him. He suspected, of course, that Harsh was only working here for the hospital's vital resource, weak people, and more conveniently, a pocket supply of blood. The hunter was pragmatic, and he actually saw little harm in vampires feeding like this. A person at the end of their life, or blood in their bags, would still do less harm, and would be a much less risky way of sustaining themselves. However, putting aside his hatred didn't mean all animosity was gone, and it was no wonder his shoulders seemed to tense as the vampire approached with crutches in hand. He could probably stab him with those, he told himself. The hunter found himself confused when he began to ask himself the following question: what had this vampire done to deserve such a brutal and arbitrary death. If Alain often asked himself this question when he was alone, this was the first time he had asked himself this in the presence of these individuals whom he had considered since his childhood as monsters, shadows in the night, and whose sole purpose (and these were again traces of the teachings received as a child) was to terrorize men, and destroy lives. “I lost my leg not long ago,” though his voice sounded harsh and dry, the expression on his face seemed a little more relaxed, as he watched the other man act in a respectable manner. “The next couple weeks,” he repeated, and you could read in his face that the revelation puzzled him, as if he doubted his ability to endure such promiscuity in the long run. Maybe this was an opportunity that life gave him, to learn to bear with these individuals? The hunter, confused, glanced away from the vampire for a few seconds. This was evidence that he didn’t feel in danger, although that didn’t last long. “Harsh, okay. You might as well call me Alain then. I don’t think I’ll stand being called Mr. Babineaux for too long,” being reminded that he was his father's son was not something he enjoyed, and although he could rarely avoid it, if he could, he made it known. The hunter wondered about confessing who he was, but since he also wanted to know if he could endure a vampire for the long haul, he kept that to himself, hoping it wouldn't come back to hit him in the face in the weeks to come. .

There wasn’t anyone around. This guy was down a leg. The doctor wasn’t supposed to come back to check in on him. How hard would it be to snap his neck and get him in a body bag? Harsh had done more with less. But no. There were still half a dozen happy little hearts beating away just down the hall. If Alain screamed, they would come running. And what if he wasn’t a hunter? What if he was just some poor asshole who lost his leg? The last thing Harsh needed was that kind of heat on him. No. No murdering. This would be fine. It was fine. Everything was fine. Not having to breathe came in handy when it came to hiding his rising nerves. “Ah, yeah, I sorta noticed that,” he said, with a light little laugh. “How are you adjusting? I know that kind of thing can’t be easy.” That at least was true. He had seen plenty of patients and plenty of others before White Crest who had lost bits of themselves. “Alain, got it. Nice to meet you. So do you want me to grab a chair? Or anything else to help get you out of here?”

“You asked why you never saw me before,” the hunter deadpanned, little amused by this little exercise in humor. The last thing he felt capable of doing, right now, was sharing jokes with this kind of people. The man hadn't done anything wrong except that he wasn't really a human being. Alain wondered how old the vampire was, or whether he had been living here for a long time. He always had a lot of questions when he met a vampire, but more often than not, he never really had the opportunity to ask them, and more often than not, it was the hunter’s fault that he couldn’t ask those. “Well, things are not easy, no,” he didn’t have to lie to this guy. Alain always tried to preserve people, and figured that they simply could not care for him, but he was not going to be so careful here. “I had to stop work ever since it happened, and that has not been fun. My house is in the middle of nowhere so I had to move out. The realtor was pretty nice though, I think I made a friend there. That’s about the only positive bit though,” he stopped in his tracks. He rarely was so talkative, but it did not really matter to him now. It just felt off. “I think the crutches will be enough,” glancing over at the door, he pursed his lips. “Though I could use help getting out of this maze,” he agreed.

Not the joking type, okay, good to know. But the guy wasn’t flipping out or trying to go for a pencil to stake him with. Maybe he was alright. Maybe he wasn’t. This shit was so hard to tell. At least when a slayer was coming at him, Harsh knew what he was dealing with and how to respond. This not knowing, playing nice, this was the stuff that got under his skin. He nodded sympathetically. “I’ll bet. That sucks, man. Is your new place more accessible? People really just don’t consider this kind of stuff when they’re building property. Where did you work? If you don’t mind me asking.” That was all pretty rough, slayer or otherwise. It was easy enough to pretend to care about. “Yeah, no problem. You wanna stop by the cafeteria on your way out? I think they’re making the good cake today,” he said as he moved to the door, holding it open for Alain before falling into step. He kept his pace even. As funny as it would be, making a guy on crutches rush to keep up with him would probably qualify as a dick move. “Is someone picking you up or are you driving yourself?”

“It is much better,” and yet, the hunter's eyes fell to the ground as he thought of his old home. Lost in thought, he stared in that direction for a few seconds. The vampire's question pulled him out of that state of inner contemplation, and if he normally would have avoided saying too much about his personal life, everything was already on his medical record. “I own the garage on the way out of town,” which reminded him that he would also have to sell his car for something he could drive : which meant switching to automatic. “I should be able to keep working. I’m doing the accounts these days. They’ve never been so tidy,” his eyebrows raised. If this was one thing he could have never imagined, it was his accounts ever being up to date. He had always hated paperwork and administrative work, and he still hated that, but this was a weight off his back. “The good cake ? I’m scared to ask,” he looked over at the other man and shook his head. “I’m not getting near any hospital food by choice, I had to eat only that for weeks,” Alain had a thing for exaggeration, but in this particular case, he was fair. “Well I was thinking of walking back home. I don’t live far from here now. About fifteen minutes away, I think,” walking with crutches might have not been fun, but he missed being outdoor, and he insisted on walking whenever he could.

That didn’t sound a whole lot better. Maybe Harsh was being too nosy, but he was supposed to be chatty and friendly with the patients. People never suspected the upbeat friendly guy was the one stealing blood. “Well that’s something. I know it can be hard to find brightsides with this kind of injury, but it’s good to keep looking anyway.” This guy didn’t seem like he wanted bullshit platitudes or assurances that everything was going to be perfectly fine. Good. Harsh was always garbage with those. Laughing, he shook his head a little. “The bad cake isn’t that bad, it’s just that the good stuff always goes so fast. The cooks here… I mean, they try their best, y’know? But it’s not exactly gourmet, which I’m sure you noticed. So when they make something good, I always try to grab extra.” The surprise on Harsh’s face wasn’t the least bit fake. Walking that long on crutches sounded like a massive pain. “Are you sure, man? I can see if someone can drive you or call you a ride or something, it’s no problem. Your charts are looking good, but you still shouldn’t strain yourself.” He frowned as they reached the doors, hesitating with one hand on the bar. “I don’t like letting you go on your own, man. It’s already dark out. I’ve seen way too many animal attacks in this place to feel good about sending you out there.”

“It’s something. I just want to keep moving now. I feel like shit happens to me whenever I stop, I gotta keep doing,” it was like that old Buster Keaton movie, where the hero ended up in trouble whenever he took some time to rest. Alain smiled at the memory of that film, his eyes dropped to the floor and he took a moment to look at his foot. He tried to avoid doing that, but having decided to keep going meant facing your problems. “You just cannot convince me of that. I … no,” he shook his head, determined to stay upright in his boots. “Yeah, I’m quite resilient,” he paused. “Quite stubborn too, although I’m working on it,” he added with a chuckle. As uncommon as his request was, the hunter missed walking for hours, and a few minutes wouldn’t hurt him, would they ? He couldn’t reveal that he could see in the dark, or that he didn’t fear many animals out there aside from bugbears. The thought of running across another one terrified him, but he doubted they were roaming freely around the streets of White Crest. “I’ll be fine, I was a zookeeper back in the days,” not a lie, although it was not usually something he shared. Still Alain doubted that the vampire would make the connection.

“I get that. Although, I kind of feel like weird awful shit just happens in this town to everyone, whether you’re moving or not.” But Harsh could understand that. He had never taken well to being in any one place for too long. It all got stifling after a while. White Crest kept things interesting at least, but even it would grow stale eventually. “Hey, being stubborn isn’t always a bad thing. Sometimes you need to keep going even if people tell you to stop.” That seemed decent enough advice for a patient. Though… if this guy was of the staking variety, that might not be the best thing to tell him. Harsh blinked, eyebrows rising. “A zookeeper? Where did you work? I didn’t think White Crest had a zoo.”

“That's not wrong,” the thought of leaving White Crest had crossed his mind often, but he had never been able to leave for very long. A few years ago, he left for Europe. He had been there for a little over a month. Alain told himself he would go there if he ever retired. And now that he had retired, at least from a very important part of his life, he wondered if it wasn't worth thinking about it again, a little more seriously. “I think everyone in this town has had, at least once, the urge to move out of here, including me,” the vampire's comment made him smile. He would once have had a carnivorous smile, but the one on his face was much friendlier, despite the negative assumptions he had. “I never said I worked in White Crest then,” he gave the guy a pat on the shoulder. This had to be the kindest gesture he’d ever given such a creature, and for a second, the hunter had the most puzzled look on his face, as if he expected his hand to catch fire, or the vampire to lash out. Nothing happened, however, so instead he smiled and shook his head. “I have quite a few stories to tell, although I’m not willing to share those yet.”

“You’re probably not wrong. I would be kind of concerned if there was anyone living here who hadn’t thought about leaving at least once.” The thought had crossed Harsh’s mind a number of times. It wasn’t the worst place to be a vampire, but with hunters… or maybe hunters all over, it wasn’t the best either. He blinked, the pat to his shoulder catching him by surprise. Maybe this guy was just normal after all. Or probably not a slayer at the very least. Harsh smiled easily in return. “Yeah? I’ll bet you do. Well, if you ever feel like sharing, I’m here a lot. I always like hearing a good story. If you’ve got any from that zoo, I’d love to hear them. Man, I can’t remember the last time I went to a real zoo.” He cast another glance outside, smile slipping a little. “Are you sure you don’t want help getting home? I could see if someone could cover for me for a bit and walk you there. I don’t like sending you out there alone.”

“Don’t trust anyone who claims that they don’t have a love-hate relationship with the town,” looking as a couple walked past them to go inside, Alain wondered just how many people came to the hospital everyday, and how many would have not ended up here had this town been normal. It still wasn’t natural for him to brush it away and tell himself that it no longer was his problem. How could it have been natural? Ever since he was little, he had been told that he had this debt : he had been given abilities, and in return for those, he had to protect others from this nocturnal threat that vampires posed. This had been the only thing that made him worthy to his family, and he now regretted not rejecting it sooner. Still, it only felt natural that it should happen now. Looking back at the things he had accomplished, at the rest of his life, now might have been the steadiest he had ever been. Life was not perfect, but he now had time to think about what he wanted, what HE wanted.

Approaching the doors, he wrinkled his nose as the cold wind hit his face. "You are very kind," this was more an observation than a compliment, although he'd let the vampire be the judge of that. "Quite stubborn are we?" Took one to know one. "Do as you wish, but I'm walking out. I'm sure you'll easily catch up with me if you find someone," an amused glint in his eyes, the slayer went out the door with his crutches, turning around to give the man one last look. Well, that had gone a lot better than he had expected. Speak about much ado about nothing, he told himself.

[hunnybadgerv]

Cutie Pie | Far Cry 5 | Tayen Quick

Summary: Despite the strangeness of the situation, Tayen finds herself charmed by the warm brown eyes of someone unexpected.

a/n: Written to fill a prompt that I can’t find anymore. Sorry to the prompter. But I remember it being a dialogue prompt for this line: “No, you’re cute. End of Story.” I could be kind of wrong. I’m sorry, I’m really missing my own dogs right now (though my last precious died about 15 years ago, and lately I’ve been wishing we could have a pet here).

Read on AO3

Cutie Pie

The truck ran out of gas about two miles back, but Deputy Tayen Quick wasn’t worried about it and to be fair Boomer didn’t seem too concerned either. He was far more well-behaved than she expected dogs could be and was taking the chance to enjoy the wilderness it seemed. He’d dart from one tree to the next, sniffing everything in turn. Every now and then his nose would take him over a rise or a hill.

“Boomer,” Tayen would say rather conversationally. He’d reply with a bark and head back toward her. Usually circling around her stride once or twice. With a scratch behind the ears, he’d be off again.

When she got back to the states, her counselor suggested she get a dog. Tayen had thought the guy was out of his mind, which was still a possibility, but after a few hours with Boomer she realized he might have been on to something.

Stopping, she fished her canteen out of her pack. From beneath a copse of pine boughs, Tayen crouched and looked around, studying the landscape, then finally looking for trace of her companion.

“Boomer,” she said again, not yelling or talking louder than her normal conversational volume. She wasn’t about to start yelling for no damn good reason. There was no immediate response, and she opted to give him a little time to realize that the human had stopped following him. She slipped her pack off and dug out the frisbee that had been in the bed of the truck they’d abandoned. This time she whistled, it was quite a bit louder than her previous call.

She heard the movement before the responding bark. Boomer hugged tight around a large bramble bush and sped toward her with purpose. He looked like a dog on a mission, and he was. He leapt and licked at her face, jabbing her cheek with his wet nose.

“Thanks,” she laughed rubbing her cheek against her shoulder. “You need some water?” Boomer sat down and let his tongue loll out of his mouth. “I’ll take that as a yes. I could use a little breather myself,” she admitted.

As she poured a little puddle of water in the frisbee for Boomer, he started lapping at it immediately.

“Maybe I should take a water break more often,” she mused, scratching the dog between the shoulders as he drank the water fast. Tayen stole a quick drink from the canteen and poured more out for her companion.

“Gonna need to carry more water,” she mused taking a deep drink from the canteen. “Not as bad as the desert, but with two of us going at it. Need to be prepared, huh?”

Taking another drink she waited as if he might just suddenly become capable of speech and answer her. Instead, he merely kept lapping at the water with loud splashes. It only took a moment for her to realize Boomer needed more of a splash zone when refreshing himself.

She capped off the water and peeked into the pack she’d confiscated from Rae-Rae’s along with some supplies that would serve them both. She pulled a handful of the dry kernels of dog food from the ziploc bag in her pack. She’d only taken a little, a pound at best. Once it was gone he’d be eating whatever the two of them could scrounge up. She wasn’t sure how good that was for dogs, but they were omnivores, she thought.

“Don’t eat too fast,” she warned repeating the warning she’d gotten at some point in childhood that she couldn’t quite remember anymore.

He ignored the pieces for the moment, though she wasn’t sure if he was really drinking any of the water or just getting it … everywhere. Going back to her thoughts, she figured that if it came from the forest and she could eat it; he should probably be fine. She hoped. Dusting her hands off on her pants, she grabbed the apple off the top of her pack. There had been some jerky, dried fruit, and nuts at the pumpkin farm, but Quick knew to save that stuff. The fresh things wouldn’t keep. So, those she ate first.

After polishing the green apple with a clean bandana, she bit into it. Boomer crunched some of the dry food, and let a few of the other pieces just soak up the water, which was part of Tayen’s plan. She thought it might keep the waste to a minimum. They sat there in the shade amongst the leaf litter and pine needles, listening to the forest as they rested.

From that vantage point, Tayen thought, you almost couldn’t tell that hell was breaking loose in the county. It was not a comforting thought. Quick wondered how many people like Rae-Rae were being caught unawares at that very moment while she lounged under the tree cover. It was a thought that didn’t sit well in her head, or her gut. With a sigh, she picked up the empty frisbee and closed her pack. Despite her movement, Boomer still laid there next to her leg, though he had turned his head to watch her. One eyebrow shifted and the corresponding ear flicked.

“You trying to be extra cute?” she asked.

His little eyebrows with their long whiskers shifted as he tipped his head and looked at her upside down.

“This how you won that title, huh? Gave the judges the eyes?”

He offered a little rumbling growl that made her smirk.

“Too cute.”

He barked at her and shifted onto his tummy, looking back at her over his shoulder.

“I don’t draw, so your French dog pose is lost on me, Cutie Pie.” She said the term of endearment like a tease.

He barked and put his paw on her leg.

Tayen grinned and leaned closer. “No, you’re cute. End of Story,” she pronounced with finality.

Boomer’s tongue darted out before she could escape and he managed to get her on the mouth and somehow licked inside the her nostril.

“Damnit,” she giggled wildly. She brushed her mouth across the back of her sleeve. “You got your tongue up my nose, man. Not cool.” All the while Boomer wallowed into her lap and she rubbed and petted him. “We’re going to have talk about the mouth kisses. And up the nose is a hard pass. I’m cool with cheeks. But I’m not sure we’ve known each other long enough for you to be getting so fresh.”

Boomer leaned up like he’d lick her again and she lifted her head in time to only end up with a tongue across the underside of her chin. She rubbed him like she was trying to tickle a child and the dog wriggled in her lap trying to sneak in well placed laps here and there.

“Crazy dog,” she told him when he finally tumbled out of her lap and pressed his chest to the ground. His butt was still in the air, tail wagging with abandon. Tayen playfully swiped toward his head to pet him and he jumped at her hand. She got to her feet and when she pulled her pack back on Boomer leaped again, almost high enough to reach her shoulder.

“Let’s go, boy. We got some ground left to cover before the sun gives out on us.”

He circled her legs once then took off in the correct direction. “Too fucking smart,” she mused as she set out in his wake. Boomer hopped over logs and clumps of weeds with surprising grace while she just trudged along in his wake, wishing she could muster have his enthusiasm for the walk. She wanted to reach that lumber yard before sun down and a trek through some rough country stood between the two of them and that goal.

[rainbowserenity]

1. “Do you want me to leave?” - Hopurai

royal!AU tag

my intention with this AU was for it to be a bunch of oneshots that could be read separately….but this is the installment that makes me wish I’d had the foresight to just make it into a multichapter fic 8D;if you don’t want to go in blindly, I would HIGHLY recommend (re?)reading at least the previous installment before the this one. all the fics are in the above linked tag, or they’re in a collection on AO3 here

sorry for being so ridiculous lmao

*****

Therewas such a strange disconnect from staring outside the windows of thepalace as opposed to when she’d had to stare out of a hole in theceiling back when she’d been living in the slums. Back then, she’d belooking up into the smog-covered sky, trying against all odds to seethe stars that the fal'cie would bring at night.

Now,sitting in her office, she could literally look down on so much ofEden since the palace towered over pretty much everything except thefal'cie Phoenix itself. It was weird, to say the least.

Well,she supposed it was no stranger than Lightning Farron, former soldierand resident of the slums, being discovered as Eden’s long-lostprincess.

Lightningfrowned slightly as she watched people go about their daily business.From up here, they looked like ants. It was hard to believe that somecould be struggling or confused or going through heartbreak…

Notthat she’d know anything about heartbreak. At all. Nope.

“Hey,you finished yet?”

Witha sigh, Lightning pulled her gaze away from the window and stared atSazh, who was officially her adviser, but really played the role of ababysitter. It was insulting if she thought about it too much. “Doesit look like I’ve finished?”

“True.”Sazh waltzed up to her desk and pointedly stared at the pile ofpapers. “'Cause if you had finishedthis incredibly easy task, I bet you would’ve found me already andclaimed that poor ol’ Sazh was overworked and needed a vacation - ”

“Itried to give you a vacation after the ball,” Lightning pointedout, raising an eyebrow. “You told me I’d probably set the palaceon fire if you left for a day.”

“AndI’m probably right!”

“Doubtful.”Lightning rolled her eyes and tapped her pen against the papers infront of her a few times. “I’m fairly sure that I, a grown adultwho’s been taking care of herself since she was a teenager, couldeasily manage without you for a few days.”

“Keeptellin’ yourself that.” Sazh picked up one of the papers. “Whichone are you working on?”

“Theletter to Vanille.” DiaVanille had been an important guest at Lightning’s introduction balla few days ago. It was a gathering that had officially presented heras Eden’s princess, which, in turn, would hopefully open up newrelations. Now she was supposed to be writing letters of intent toget people on her side with whatever she planned to do as regent.

Despitefinding the whole practice completely ridiculous, Lightning actuallyhad gotten along fairly well with the Duchess of Luxerion, Vanille.She had to wonder if this was partially because her bodyguard wasfriends with the Duchess and that made it easier to like her.

Or…formerbodyguard, she supposed.

“Keepit short and sweet,” Sazh advised. “Vanille’s not much for longletters.”

“Andyou think I am?”

“Justlet me dream a little, geez. Kids these days.”

Lightningrolled her eyes again, her mind wandering to the ball. Chatting withVanille and her girlfriend Fang, the Princess of Oerba…dancing in adress that glittered with an obnoxious amount of diamonds…steppingonto the balcony with -

Ugh,okay, definitely not goingthere.

Aftera pause where she wrote a few words, Lightning glanced up. Sazh wasscribbling something in a book – probably grading her on heretiquette, hmph. “Was there something else you needed?”

“Yes,as a matter of fact.” Sazh stopped writing and plopped into a chairwithout any grace. If she’d done the same, he would’ve recoiled inhorror. “We didn’t really get a chance to talk after the ball.Gotta say, I’m impressed with how you handled things.”

“Itwas a glorified dance. Not too difficult.”

Thatwas a lie and they both knew it. Lightning had grown up in a suburbof Eden and then spent her teenage years in the slums – she’d neverbeen to any sort of dance, never mind a ball of the caliber that’dbeen held in her honor. Beingparaded around like a doll had been one of the most difficult thingsshe’d ever done. Luckily, she’d met Vanille and Fang very early onduring the night and their new-foundfriendship had made goingthrough the motions much easier.

Therewas someone else who’d helped out, but she preferred not to think toohard about that.

“Yeah,yeah.” Sazh waved a hand. “Keep tellin’ yourself that. And tellme your thoughts –anybody there you think we could strengthen an alliance with? Or formone? Technically, Eden’s always been on good terms with the otherkingdoms since Phoenix is the most important fal'cie, but there’salways room for improvement. See any of that? Or…” He raised aneyebrow. “Any potential suitors?”

Lightningducked her head, hoping against everything that the heat she feltsimmering under her skin was from a…hot flash or something. Yeah,that totally made sense. She wasn’t about to blush atthe thought of a certain personal bodyguard taking her to see astar-filled sky and light-studded city. There was definitely nothought of his hands on her, his lips caressing hers…

“Nosuitors,” she finally said, clearing her throat and daring to lookup. At least her face felt normal. “Serah seemed to like the Patronof Yusnaan, though.” She frowned.

“What,you got a problem with him?” Sazh looked faintly amused. “I knowhe’s just a kid, but then again, so are you.”

“Hejust seemed…” Lightning shook her head. There were only a fewwords she could think of to describe Snow Villiers, and none of themwere all that flattering. “But we’ve been on particularly goodterms with Yusnaan, so it doesn’t really matter. Fang seemed to likeme, so maybe we can strengthen ties with Oerba.”

“Thatgirl’s an odd one.” Sazh leaned back in his chair, looking lost inthought. “I’m pretty sure all she really gives a damn about isVanille. For awhile, it was lookin’ like Oerba and Luxerion wouldofficially join forces, possibly to try and topple Eden and take overPhoenix.”

Lightningraised her eyebrows. “Could they do that?”

“Probably.Ain’t like the fal'cie care that much.”

Shehad no idea if that was true. Lightning had yet to see Phoenix inperson since being found as the princess of Eden. “Do you thinkFang was trying to get on my good side, then? And then betray me whenleast expected?”

“Nahhh.If Vanille liked you, then Fang’s sure as hell not gonna mess withyou or anybody in Eden. And trust me, Vanille is as genuine as theycome. Kinda hard to believe she’s royalty sometimes.” Sazh sighedin exasperation. “I’ve worked with so many of you kids over theyears that I wonder if you all share the same stick up your ass.”

Insteadof biting back with a retort, Sazh’s comment made Lightning asksomething she’d been wondering for awhile. “That’s right – bothFang and Vanille said that they knew you. You were an adviser forsome members of the old family, too.”

“Gladto see you pay attention when I talk.”

“Thatdoesn’t make much sense, though,” Lightning continued, ignoringSazh’s comment. “You’re not even twice my age. You said you’ve beenserving the old family for years, but if you served Fang and Vanilletoo…”

“Inever told you?” Now Sazh looked confused, but also a littleconcerned. It was very strange to see him with an expression towardsher that wasn’t exasperation. “Huh, guess I wouldn’t have at thebeginning. And things have been so crazy with the ball andeverything…”

“Toldme what?”

Sazhundid the top two buttons of his shirt and tugged it down a bit. Itwas still hidden under some fabric, but there were a bunch oftelltale lines and intersecting arrows that made Lightning sit ramrodstraight in her chair, eyes widening a bit. She knew what it meantbefore Sazh even said the words.

“I’ma l'cie.”

Thestories had spread among the slums – scary children’s tales thatwould send Serah crying into her arms in fear. L'cie were warriorschosen by fal'cie and sent to fight their battles, using magic farmore powerful and horrifying than the average person was capable of.They would live forever until the fal'cie grew tired of them andended their misery with agony, only to gather new warriors and repeatthe cycle anew.

Sincethere hadn’t been a real war in centuries, l'cie were just terriblestories. Even though Lightning knew they were likely just that –stories – nobody she knew had ever met or been one, so itwas hard to say what was the truth or not.

Itwas true, however – recorded in history books and all –that l'cie were branded when they were made. The lines intersectingon Sazh’s skin perfectly matched what Lightning knew.

“You’re– how - ”

“Ohc'mon, you know damn well I’m not some war machine. I hear thosestories. Most of ‘em are totally untrue. Probably made up by somefanatic or anti-war group back in the day.” Sazh shrugged andbuttoned his shirt, hiding the brand from sight.

“Thenwhat is true?”

“One,we don’t live forever. But it does stretch things out a bit.” Hechuckled. “You pretty much stop physically aging once you’rebranded. Good thing, or I’d have half a century’s worth of gray hairfrom all you kids stressin’ me out.”

Lightningdid not laugh. She still felt something akin to horror, though Sazh’snonchalant attitude and her own logic were calming her down a bit.“But why were you branded? I’ve always heard that l'cie werejust tools for war.”

“LikeI said, stories.” Sazh waved a hand. “Yeah, sure, some were madefor war, but most l'cie are branded to carry out a certain purpose,whether for war or whatever else.”

“Andlet me guess,” Lightning said, her head starting to clear, “yourpurpose is to annoy me?”

“Close.”He chuckled again. “Nah, the old queen’s mother put in a good wordfor me with Phoenix. I kinda fell into the adviser role and the royalfamily was damn impressed. They asked if I wanted to do it forlonger, and well…” He shrugged. “Here I am. ‘Course, I’d go outto ally kingdoms or whatnot. In Duchess Vanille’s case, her parentsdied when she was barely a kid, so I kept an eye on her. I only knowPrincess Fang through her, though.”

“Isee.” And she did, actually. The initial shock had finally wornoff. Honestly, she couldn’t see why someone would want to live foryears and years doing the sort of thing Sazh did, but now she knewhow he was so good at his job…literal years of practice. “And I’mguessing this is common knowledge among the other royals?”

“Well,yeah. I’m everywhere, you know.” He tapped the side of his head.“Can’t do much to hide that.”

“Isuppose not.” Of course she was the last to know…but then again,she always seemed to be the last to know things lately, sowhat did one more thing matter?

“Onthat note, I’ve got some other things I need to do.” The tone inSazh’s voice had gone so serious that it made Lightning glance upfrom her letter and frown in confusion.

“Whatthings?”

“Geez,so nosy.” He shook his head. “Don’t you worry about it. Finishyour letters and I’ll have one of the assistants come in andproofread them.”

Sherolled her eyes. “Sure.”

Hewas already halfway out the door, but still called out as thought heactually had eyes in the back of his head. “I saw that!”

Lightningshook her head and stared back down at her letter to Vanille, tappingher pen against the paper a few times. Even though it’d been quitesome time since she’d been found as Eden’s princess, the formalityand unspoken rules still baffled her. Ever since meeting a bunch ofthem at her introduction ball, however, she’d seen that many of themfound some of the rules and etiquette archaic as well.

Sowhy did they have to do it?

Shesighed heavily and slumped in her chair – a posture that Sazh wouldfrown upon, but for once, she was blessedly alone. Not even a maidwas to be seen, although she could hear people puttering in thehallways outside her office. It was so rare these days she couldactually be by herself. Usually she at least had her personalbodyguard with her…

“No,”she muttered, chiding herself. She would not think about him.She would not wonder where he’d gone after running from her atthe ball, and she would certainly not replay the images oftheir kiss in her mind.

Nope.Not her.

Lightningheaved another sigh and shoved the papers aside, going back tostaring out the window. Concentration was clearly useless, at leastfor now. She may as well take advantage of Sazh not being around todemand her to do stuff.

–

Itwas only a few days later when she got the news.

Shewas in the sitting area of her suite, talking to Serah on the phone –an encrypted, ridiculously secure line, of course. Actually beingable to see her sister would’ve been better, but Serah wascompletely swamped with work at the university and couldn’t get away.

Therewas always, however, time for a phone call.

“Ijust don’t get what you see in him,” Lightning muttered, scribblingin the margins of her scrap paper. She was still working on thoseletters and had been trying to think of good things to say SnowVilliers, Patron of Yusnaan. It was exceedingly difficult.

Forher, anyway.

“He’sso sweet!” Serah basically swooned over the phone. “And don’t youthink he’s handsome? I wonder if he’ll wear the same outfit at myintroduction ball.”

Lightningfrowned. “He’s a big lug that kept stepping on my feet.”

“Notto mention that you can tell he really cares about his people.”Serah kept going on like her sister had said nothing. “Maybe it’sbecause he was elected? I mean, I know you care about everyone in thekingdom, but some of the other royals who have lived it since theywere born….it’s different for them. Don’t you think so?”

Unconsciously,Lightning’s grip on her phone tightened. He’d said that to her morethan once.

Youknow what it’s like on the other side. You’ll be able to bring realchange.

Herstomach fluttered and she willed the door to knock – something,anything to let her know that her personal bodyguard wascoming back.

Knock-knock.

Shestared at the door. Could it be…?

“YourHighness?”

Hershoulders drooped so quickly that she nearly dropped the phone. Sherecognized the quiet voice of Yeul, one of her maids. With a heavysigh, she called out, “Just a moment!”

“Sis?Do you want me to leave?”

“Sorry,Serah.” Lightning heaved another sigh. “I have to go. I’ll callyou back tonight, okay?”

“Okay!I should probably get back to all this homework.” Her tone grewteasing. “You think they’d let a princess catch a break.”

“Ifyou’d wanted to catch any breaks, you wouldn’t have applied to themost prestigious university in the world,” Lightning teased back.“I’ll talk to you later.”

“Okay.Love you!”

“Youtoo.”

Anotherquiet knock sounded at the door. This time, Lightning stood, herposture automatically straight as she smoothed down her clothes. Asthere hadn’t been anything urgent on her schedule for the day, she’dopted for comfortable slacks and a thin cashmere sweater – clothingshe’d take over diamond-studded ball gowns any day.

“Comein.”

Yeulentered the room, dropping into a curtsy. All of the servantscontinued to be ridiculously formal around her, despite herinsistence otherwise. It was sort of why she appreciated Sazh naggingher all the time, though hell would freeze over before she’d admitit.

Andspeak of the devil…

“Mr.Katzroy requests that you join him in the conference room, YourHighness.”

Lightningfrowned, the request immediately striking her as odd. Usually Sazhsought her out himself when he needed something, or at least wouldbring her to whatever room he needed. Especially since this palacewas ridiculously huge and she still didn’t always know her wayaround.

“Conferenceroom?”

“Yes.”Yeul bowed her head. “Allow me to escort you.”

“Sure.”Lightning was all too happy to leave her papers and thoughts ofwriting to Snow behind…although surely whatever Sazh had plannedfor her would be just as annoying.

Itturned out she wasn’t too far off.

Yeulmurmured something into a speaker that was attached to the earpieceshe was wearing, presumably telling her coworkers where she was. Therest of the walk was fairly quiet, which was fine with her. Lightningwas more than okay with staring at the paintings and pricelessartifacts that adorned the walls. A lot of them were portraits of herextremely distant ancestors. Apparently she and Serah would have tosit for portraits at some point and then they’d be on the wallsforever. It was a very weird thought.

Whenthe finally reached the conference room, Yeul curtsied again beforeopening one of the wide doors. “Her Highness, Princess Lightning,has arrived,” she called, her soft voice echoing into the emptyroom.

“Thanks,”Lightning said, nodding at Yeul before she stepped inside. There wasa weird flash of gold that struck Yeul’s eyes, but it was probablyjust glare from all the artifacts around them. Weird.

Theconference room was huge, with tons of folded seats and what lookedlike a stage and podium. It reminded her a bit of a theater withoutthe screen. “Sazh?”

“Overhere.” He was off to the side, where there was a table and somechairs covered with papers. She hurried over to him. “Always makin’an old man wait, huh?”

“Yeah,yeah.” It felt weird to comment on that since now she had a roughidea of just how old Sazh really was. “How come you calledme here?”

“Nobodyever uses this room and I wanted to inform you of something inprivate.”

Instantly,Lightning’s heart began to pound. For whatever reason, her firstthought was of the night of the ball. Had someone seen them out onthe balcony? Was there some protocol about a princess and herbodyguard sharing a kiss?

“It’sabout your coronation.”

Shelet out a huge breath she hadn’t even known she’d been holding,slumping in her seat a bit. She ignored the evil eye Sazh gave her.“What about it?”

“Asyou know, the old family kept their power tightly reigned.” Themore he spoke, the more serious Sazh became. It was weirdlyoff-putting. “All of the descendants have been, more or less,direct from the first king. Kinda a cut and dry family tree, evenwith all the marriages and what have you.”

“Right.”Lightning vaguely recalled this when she’d been forced to study theold family. The crown almost always went to the firstborn son ordaughter, which wasn’t so unusual for royalty, she supposed, but thefamily tree was streamlined to the point where many of thefirstborn’s siblings rarely got married or had children of their own.It was why she and Serah being a part of all of this was basicallyunprecedented.

Veryweird.

“LikeI told you, I’ve had some dealings with the old family. And I’m notthat old to remember the first king, but there’s a reason theykept the family as it was.”

“Sazh,please.” Lightning was rapidly running out of patience. She wasn’treally sure why, but something in her just wanted to hear thenews already. “Get to the point.”

“Soimpatient,” he muttered. “Okay, fine – long story short – thecoronation and ruling status are only valid with approval fromPhoenix.”

Itfelt like a block of ice had suddenly dropped in her stomach,although it took her a moment to rationalize why. “Approval?”“Yes.”The serious tone in Sazh’s voice grew. “You meet with the fal'ciein a special one-on-one ceremony. Phoenix will brand you as the nextruler of Eden. Not like a l'cie,” he added hastily, whenLightning’s gaze focused on the spot where his brand was hidden.“There’s no permanent mark, although it lasts 'til you’reofficially crowned. Then you’re free to rule as you please.”

Theice turned to lead in her gut. “Okay, so I meet with Phoenix andit…approves of me.” She frowned. “Why tell me this in secrecy?This is probably common knowledge among the royals, right?”

“Yeah.Some of the others brand their rulers like this too, but Phoenix isthe most important because, well…obvious reasons and all.”

“Isee.” The perfect placeholder reply, because this whole thing madeher feel…uneasy. Phoenix was arguably the most importantfal'cie in the world. Without the sun and life it provided, therewould be no world. The fal'cie from other kingdoms couldeasily be replaced with hard work and effort from humanity.

Butthe sun? There was no replacement for that.

Theenormity of her role in the world suddenly hit her like a train. Itdidn’t matter if her sister or the other royals or certain personalbodyguards believed in her. She’d never been very good at followingrules and had always thought of herself as very independent. The factthat she was to be in charge of everything under somethingelse’s power made her want to take a sword to Phoenix just to rid theworld of it, so humanity could try to thrive on its own.

Notthat she would – or could – ever admit this out loud.

“There’sone other thing,” Sazh added when she said nothing more.

Lightningrolled her eyes a little, mostly out of habit. “What?”

Hedidn’t comment on her rudeness. “I know for a fact thatyou’re part of the royal bloodline. Ol’ Sazh did his research. Youdon’t even want to know what dusty old books and old familyrecords I had to look up to find you and your sister.”

“You’vementioned this.” She raised an eyebrow. “Many times, in fact.”

“'Causeit’s true.” There was a pause before his voice went grave.“However, if Phoenix doesn’t approve of you for whatever reason ordecides you’re not worthy of the power to rule…”

Lightningwaited a moment for him to finish, but she knew what he meant when hetrailed off. This, maybe, was the source of her instant uneasinesswhen he’d started talking. It was everything she hadn’t known she wasdreading since coming into the conference room.

“…Phoenixwill kill me.” She met his eyes. “Won’t it?”

“There’snot much of a chance it’ll disapprove of you,” Sazh repliedquickly. She wondered who he was trying to convince. “Like I said,I did my research and you’re a part of the bloodline. I’ve heardthat’s all it really cares about. It’s not like the fal'cie reallygive a damn about human affairs, y'know?”

“Right.”She ignored the unsaid words – there was still that chance Phoenixwould cast her aside and everything would be for nothing.

Betterme than Serah.

Thatwas what it always came down to, the first thought her instinct wentto. Serah was the one who deserved a comfortable life withresponsibilities chosen by her and not some rule or bloodline. It wasbecause of her sister that Lightning had worked her ass off when theywere still in the slums, doing everything she could to give Serahever opportunity possible.

Shenever thought there was the possibility it could lead to her death.

Butwhat about her role now? Though she hadn’t asked for any of this, shewas slowly finding herself eager to make changes around the kingdomof Eden and make things better for people who weren’t long-lostmembers of the royal family.

“You’veseen both sides. I think that’ll eventually come to be your biggeststrength.”

Eventhough she kept trying not to think about a certain personalbodyguard, his words from the ball popped into her head. She’d alwaystaken his reassurance to heart, but now it had a thousand times moremeaning.

Thoughshe would never deny that Serah had also suffered in the past,Lightning had always watched out for her and sacrificed somuch to ensure that her needs were met. Their experiences weredifferent because of that.

Nobodyhad ever looked out for Lightning until now.

Andbecause of that, she was the only one who could truly changethings.

Shewas quiet for another moment as though contemplating, but short ofrunning away, there was really only one answer. There had only everbeen one answer.

Lightningsucked in a breath and met Sazh’s eyes, trying to steel herself withdetermination.

“Whatdo I need to do before meeting with Phoenix?”

–

Aswith practically everything related to this princess business, thepre-ceremony rituals were completely over the top and ridiculous.Someday she’d realize that nobody around here ever did things simply.

Overthe next couple of days, she rehearsed the ancient words that wouldsummon Phoenix to an audience with her. A handful of older maids –ones that had been tasked with all of the ritual business with theold family – helped her with cleansing baths and created theceremonial outfit. They were all sworn to secrecy.

Shefigured that made sense. If she was killed by Phoenix, it’d beeasier in the long run to play it off as some kind of accident ratherthan the most important fal'cie in the world rejecting her.

Butshe tried not to think about that. Besides the maids – and Sazh, ofcourse – the only other person who knew about the upcoming ceremonywas Serah, and that was simply because there was no way shewas keeping this a secret from her sister.

Lightningdidn’t mention the risks, though. Some things were better kept quiet.

“Snowtalks to Pandaemonium sometimes,” Serah mused over the phone. Itwas the night before Lightning’s meeting with Phoenix and she decidedshe’d needed the distraction. “Maybe he could give you advice!”

“Idon’t want any advice from that big lug.” She rolled her eyes, notwanting to admit she was curious, but… “…Talks to it how?”

Serah’svoice was a little knowing, but she didn’t tease. “He told me it’snot so much words. It’s not like conversing with a person – thefal'cie send images and they get clearer the more you have a mutualunderstanding.” She hummed a little. “Maybe it’s easy for himbecause he was elected the Patron.”

“Ormaybe his head’s so empty that the images come easier because there’snothing in the way.”

“Sis.”Serah huffed in exasperation. “Be nice.”

“I’dbe nicer if you were less interested in him.”

“Buthe’s so sweet!”

“Hmph.”This was what she wanted to worry about – who was goodenough for her sister and ridiculous things like that…not if thefal'cie who basically sustained the world was going to kill her.

Shecouldn’t let herself think about it.

Luckily,Serah was eager to keep chatting – mostly about Snow, toLightning’s disgust – and her nerves settled somewhat. Her sisterwas the one person who could distract her from this whole princessthing.

Well,her and another person, but she didn’t want to think about him,either.

Thenight passed quickly and soon Lightning was too tired to even hold upthe phone. She fell asleep quickly without having time to dwell onthe ceremony the next day. Just as planned.

Ironically,the sun woke her gently the following morning, which was a nicechange from her alarm going off or someone knocking on her door. Infact, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d woken up so calmly.

Ifonly it was enough to make up for what was about to happen.

Thecalm was unfortunately short-lived, because about thirty secondsafter she’d stood up and stretched, someone knocked at her door.

“YourHighness?”

Lightningsighed heavily, immediately recognizing the voice of the oldest ofthese in-the-know maids. “Come in.”

Therewere three of them and they filed in slowly, their hands clasped infront as they walked. She realized this was an incredibly serious andformal situation, but the realness of it smacked her in the face atthe sight of the maids looking so grave. That lead block that’dformed in her gut when Sazh initially told her about all of hisreturned in full force.

“Thisway.” One of the maids gestured to her ensuite bathroom, whereanother maid was already running the water. Lightning could see heradding special oils and herbs to the tub, apparently part of thewhole cleansing ritual.

Shewas already long used to shedding her modesty in front of otherpeople since this whole princess thing had become a part of her life,but she’d never hated it more than she had at this second. Undressingand slipping into the tub in front of the others just made this wholething feel weird and awkward and way more serious than she wanted itto be. It didn’t help that she knew arguing was useless; the oldestmaid had a glare that could probably take down Sazh – a trait she’dlove to learn, to be honest. Maybe she’d ask for lessons later.

Providedshe survived Phoenix’s judgment, of course.

Withthat thrilling thought in mind, Lightning allowed herself to be driedafter the bath and wrapped in a robe. She had to admit that whateverhad been added to the bath made her skin feel like new. There’d neverbeen any time or money to bother with girly lotions and potionsbefore Sazh had found them, but maybe there was some merit in it.

Onceshe was sufficiently dry, she was led into her enormous walk-inwardrobe, where the ceremonial gown was waiting for her. It wasactually quite a beautiful dress – a flowing garment in shades ofgold, white, and blue. There was a cape with a long train attached tothe back, maybe just to add to the ridiculousness. Phoenix’s brandwas embroidered along the edges in gold.

Themaids helped her into the gown and simple gold shoes. One of themclasped a gold bracelet with multicolored stones around her wrist.

“What’sthis?” Lightning asked, lifting her arm to inspect the bracelet. Anumber of jewels were kept in her wardrobe and a lot were in storage,but she was fairly sure she’d never seen this one before. It wasweirdly flashy and simple at once.

“Agift from Phoenix, Your Highness,” the youngest of the maidsanswered (although 'young’ in this case was about eighty years old).“It’s said that that fal'cie itself put it on the wrist of thefirst king. Ever since then, it’s been a tradition to wear it to theMeeting.”

Lightningsuddenly lost all interest in the bracelet and dropped her arm. “Oh.”

Thefinal part of her outfit was a headpiece that fit snugly in her hair.Long lines of gold extended from the band in varying lengths, thelongest about a foot. It formed a semicircle around her head – madeto resemble rays of the sun, she realized as she looked in a mirror.

“Whenyou’re ready, we’ll escort you,” the oldest maid said after apause.

“…Right.”Lightning let out a breath. “Let’s get this over with.”

Ifany of them found her comment weird, they made no mention. Instead,they simply ushered her out of her suite. The hallway – whichusually had people milling about cleaning and whatnot – was emptyexcept for them. Two of the maids stood on either side and one was infront to lead the way.

Theywalked like that the whole time in silence, the only sound being thewhoosh of her cape flowing over the floor. Usually Lightning reveledin quiet, but this silence felt way too heavy. It carried foreboding.

Doom.

Still,all she did was recite her summoning words in her mind, hoping shewouldn’t forget them. She’d never been one to crack under pressure,but this was a whole different level.

Itseemed like they’d walked for miles before they finally stopped infront of an enormous door. Lightning realized she’d actually passedthis area a handful of times, but the door was nondescript and tuckedaway, so she’d never given thought to what could be behind it.

Themaid in front slowly pulled the door open. Sunlight poured in and shetried not to squint at the glare.

“Wecan go no further,” the maid said. “Please head forward for yourceremony.”

“Thanks.”

Theyall curtsied in unison as she stepped into the light, not risinguntil the door slowly creaked shut behind her. Forget the lead in hergut; her stomach was doing cartwheels by now.

“Thatyou?”

Lightningnever thought she’d be so damn grateful to hear Sazh’s voice. She letout a breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding and hurried over –as much as she could in this outfit, anyway – and even though hestill looked grave and serious, it was still a relief to be aroundsomeone normal.

Well,normal to her, anyway.

“Ididn’t think you’d be here,” she said, trying to sound composed. “Ithought it might be against the rules or whatever.”

Despitethe serious expression on his face, Sazh smirked a little. “Whathave I been tellin’ you? There’s no getting rid of me. Besides, youhave any idea what you’re doing right now?”

Lightninglooked around the room for the first time. It was weirdly bright andwhite, though she could vaguely make out ornate designs on the wallsin gold. Ahead of her was more brightness and – was that fog?

Yeah,she was totally lost.

“Thoughtso,” was all Sazh replied at the look on her face. “All right,lemme lead you through it. Ask your questions or forever hold yourpeace.”

“Justtell me how to get to Phoenix,” she replied. “I want to get thisover with.”

“Fairenough.” He shook his head in exasperation and then gestured to theweirdly bright, foggy area in front of them. “Head forward untilyou see a crystal. It’ll be floating in midair, so try not to freak.”

“I’veseen freakier things.”

“Yeah,yeah.” He rolled his eyes, which was oddly comforting. “Once youget to the crystal, hold cup your hands around it.” Sazh held uphis own hands to demonstrate. “Then recite the summons you’veundoubtedly memorized. That should take you right to Phoenix.”

Lightningheld up her hands in the same way Sazh had. “Crystal, hands,recite. I think I’ve got it.”

“Youdo.” He stared at her a moment and then sighed, bowing his head abit before nodding. “You really do. You’ve got this.”

Ifthat was his way of saying he was sure she’d survive…the confidenceactually worked somewhat. Much to her annoyance, Sazh really did knowa lot and she trusted him. It was not guarantee, but at leastit was something.

“Right,”she murmured, squaring her shoulders. “I’ll be back.”

“We’llbe waiting.”

Asshe headed into the fog, Lightning could’ve sworn she heard somefootsteps echoing behind her, but she did not dare to look over hershoulder. Eyes front. If she lost her nerve now, she’d never be ableto do this again.

Timelost all meaning as she walked through the light and fog. There wasno comfort in it, but oddly enough, she had no fear, either. MaybeSazh’s confidence in her had actually worked. Maybe it was becauseshe had to survive for Serah.

Maybeit was because, according to a certain personal bodyguard, she couldbring about real change.

Shehad no idea how long she’d walked before the crystal appeared infront of her. It was shaped a bit like a diamond and reflectedrainbows into the whiteness around her. Just as she was supposed to,she hovered her hands around it and closed her eyes, bowing her headas she spoke.

“OMighty fal'cie Phoenix, I seek you so that I may govern in yourblessed name. Guide me to your knowing light so that I may humblygaze upon you.”

Shefelt stupid chanting the words, especially since she wasn’t quitesure how much she believed in them. Apparently belief didn’t matter,though, because the crystal suddenly blinded her – even though hereyes were still closed – and she had the sensation of movement. Itfelt like falling, but she was still upright. Lightning didn’t dareopen her eyes in case it broke some kind of spell. Sazh hadn’tmentioned any of this! She was definitely going to rant at himwhen she got back.

Ifshe got back.

Whenthings finally stilled, Lightning took a moment to breathe, her eyesstill closed. It was extremely unusual for her to just stand aroundand put herself in any sort of vulnerable position, but what wasn’tunusual about all of this?Surely a breather wasn’t out of line.

Therewas about ten second of silence before an unfamiliar rumbling noiseand a flash of head made her finally open her eyes. She could notcontain the gasp that ripped through her at what was before her.

“Phoenix.”

Thefal'cie was long and skinny on both ends, with smaller pieces of itsbody – was that a body? - extending from it. Whether theseparts were something otherworldly, nature, machine – she had noidea. In the middle it was round, filled with a light so bright thatshe couldn’t stare for long.

Itwas nothing like she had ever seen or imagined.

Ofcourse she had seen fal'cie before. Most everyone had. There weresmaller ones that worked in separate jurisdictions in Eden, doingvarious tasks like providing electricity or things for export. Notall of them in other kingdoms made themselves hidden, either. Theywere just a part of the landscape and a part of life thatnobody really took notice of them.

Nowshe understood why Phoenix was hidden away.

Itwas impossible not to take notice.

Lightningstepped forward unconsciously, not sure if she wanted to run towardsit or away. She felt dazed, which was not a sensation she wasa fan of, but what else could she do?

Therewas noise coming from the fal'cie, but she wasn’t sure if it wastrying to speak or if that was just how it sounded naturally. Surelysomething so massive and powerful couldn’t be completely silent.

Thesounds were like screams and whispers all at once, having thestrength to ruffle her gown and cape, but somehow not loud enough tohear. Something about it made her want to take a sword to the massivebeing in front of her, but who was she to deny the world of this?

Andthen it happened.

Phoenixcried out and a beam of light shot right towards her, too quickly toavoid. It scorched her chest, painful yet not. She could feel theswirls and intricacies of Phoenix’s brand, letting it become a partof her and she now was of it.

Blurry,hurried images flooded into her mind. Lightning vaguely recalledSerah mentioning Snow’s experience with his fal'cie, that the imagesbecame clearer with mutual understanding.

Butshe and Phoenix had no understanding. She still couldn’t tellwhether she hated it or wanted to give thanks. There was anunderlying buzz of Phoenix not knowing what to make of her, either –just that she was of the bloodline and she could ruleunscathed.

Theimages she saw were most of people she only vaguely recognized fromthe portraits in the palace – memories of her extremely distantancestors. Some were of the stars and moon, extensions of the fal'ciefrom even farther away than this. One image would come, only to beimmediately replaced by another, and she could make no real sense ofthem.

Untilthat moment.

“Hope?!”

Everythingwas still so fast, but now Lightning willed her mind to slow,anything so that she could sort out why Phoenix was showingher images of her personal bodyguard.

Shesaw Hope, handsome as ever, talking to a group of people in a glassbuilding that gleamed with perfection.

Anotherof him in a white and yellow outfit that seemed strangely familiar –but it wasn’t the garb he wore as her bodyguard.

Himtalking to a shorter woman who, again, seemed oddly familiar.

Hiseyes sliding to look at Phoenix.

Hishands working on something that could have been otherworldly, nature,or machine.

Hisgaze on her for a thousand different reasons, most worthy of asecret.

Hisshame as he ran off from her at ball.

Inthat instant, something clicked in Lightning’s mind, though her heartwas pounding and her breath was coming too fast to really sort itout. The images abruptly stopped and the brand on her chest cooled.

“Howdo you expect me to - ”

Shedidn’t get to finish her sentence before there was that sensation offalling again. Phoenix had dismissed her?! She’d survived itsjudgment, but for what?

Therewas no making sense of it. Time had no meaning.

Whenshe stopped falling, Lightning opened her eyes in a daze and emergedfrom the light, a bit surprised to see Sazh, but also -

“Hope,”she whispered, her heart pounding again. It was too much for her bodyand mind. Her knees shook and she pitched forward.

Butlike any good personal bodyguard, Hope raced to her, his eyes widewith panic as he caught her. She settled into his arms so easily –too easily.

“Light,”he said, her name hardly a gasp. His eyes darted to Phoenix’s brand,which was on the left side of her chest, impossible to miss againsther pale skin. “Light, why? Whydid you do it?”

She stared up at him, a thousandimages replaying in her mind in an instant. How could she possiblyput them together in a way that made sense?

But maybe shealready had.

Her hand reached up to shakily brushsome of his bangs from his worried face. Worried for who, shewondered?

“You’re not a bodyguard,” shemurmured.

Theneverything went black.

[ninjakitty15]

Chapter 7: Ain’t Nothing But A Horned God (Loki x OFC Pairing)

"You know, super strength and natural parkour aside, that kid is really living up to his second identity," I mused as Peter popped in right after Loki and I got dressed in our daywear clothes and were about to binge watch the Orville.

"Why do you say that?" Loki asked, eyeing Peter as well.

"If you get rid spiders the humane way and just release them into the wild again, they will still find their way back in. Hand me that newspaper over here, I can fix that."

"I thought you said he was cute, isn't that a term of endearment?" he teased.

"He lost that effect when he killed the mood I was about to build up here. The fuck you want, kid?" I barked at the energetic idiot Tony loved so much.

"Mr. Stark's not here?" Peter squeaked.

"Hell if I know, ask Friday or better yet, beat it."

My trying to get rid of the kid seemed to somehow have the exact opposite effect I had hoped for, not unlike when a person that can't deal with cats walks into a room with one in it, that cat will instantly greet the hapless person and never leave them alone. Peter apparently grew a pair and turned his attention on me specifically, seeing as he apparently had met Loki while I was in captivity.

"So you're one the team now, huh? Where you from?"

I blinked at his sudden confidence. "Lynn, Lynn, the city of sin," I sang the old tune of my town.

"Where's that?"

"Near Salem," murmured Loki beside me. "No wonder you wanted to go there yesterday, you were homesick."

"You've been in my position before I'm told so I'm guessing you know how I felt."

"Why didn't you just say so?"

"That would mean admitting I actually feel things and I'm not one to catch feels here, gross."

"Have you got a superhero name yet?" asked Peter eagerly.

"I'd have to be a hero first for that to work and I'd rather not."

"Why not, its the funnest! Get to meet all kinds of people and everything!"

I wrinkled my nose in disgust. "That's supposed to convince me? Really? Tony told me you were clever too, Loki you're the god of lies, how could you let that slide? I hate people, if anything that'd push me toward antihero or even villain. Kill em all and then add em to the undead army, who's with me?!"

"You said so yourself that would take a lot of energy and convincing to make your victims part of your army," mused Loki.

"Sshh, he doesn't know that. Why are you still here if Tony's gone?" I asked Peter.

"He told me I'm welcome to hang out with the team in his absence," Peter replied confidently. "What were you two doing before I got here?"

"Having passionate s/m sex in every room we can get into, you look a bit too young to join but you're welcome to watch," I teased.

"No one gets to watch that," Loki stated stiffly. "That's for our eyes only. Don't you have homework that needs doing about this time?"

"All finished, Aunt May says I can't go out and be Spiderman till its done. Hey, Mr. Loki, Tony says you're not actually from Asgard but a planet of frost giants, is that true?"

"How astute of him to bring that up," grumbled Loki. "Yes, what of it?"

"What do Frost Giants look like?"

"Pete, hun, you don't go asking gods questions like that," I warned the kid, seeing Loki get all tense and serious. "Didn't your aunt ever tell you to stop sticking your nose in places it's likely to get broken in?"

Loki however had other thoughts though didn't look too pleased in acting on them as his once fair skin started to turn blue, green eyes became red and curious markings formed on his head and face. Peter looked absolutely excited being the obnoxiously curious kid he was but made no move nor questions and just tried to his best not to piss off the god while studying him at the same time. I however couldn't help but reach over to touch his face though he caught my wrist.

"You'll burn with frost bite if you touch a frost giant or one touches you."

"Sweety you are touching me," I noted. "My flesh is dead, hydra already tried extreme temps on me, no sweat."

He quickly let go despite my reassurance in fear he was freezing me with his touch, a blackened handprint remained where he held me for a moment before my necro-magic healed it and I was back to simply being a reanimated walking dead girl. I gently touched his face, my thumb brushing over the markings.

"People seem to think red eyes always means evil here," I mused. "Yet theres a fuckton of superheroes wearing red elsewhere, Tony, this little arachnid that needs to be swatted with a newspaper, Thor's cape. Red doesn't mean evil, it means power, anyone wearing red is displaying a power move."

"You don't wear it," Loki told me.

"Weren't you listening during my many rants? I don't make a habit of displaying what I'm capable of, that totally gives me away before I can even attack. It's all about subtlety, something spiderling here needs to work on before asking gods sensitive questions." I glared at the kid who had the grace to look a little ashamed, it was almost cute. At that point, just for funsies, I snatched the newspaper on the coffee table, quickly rolled it up and started smacking the poor boy with it. "Bad spider!" Peter made little move to defend himself though didn't seem too bothered by being whacked by a dead woman either.

"Don't break him or Tony will kick you out," Loki warned though I could tell he was just as amused by my antics as I was smacking around Peter.

"Dude can catch a bus with his bare hands while some people can barely catch them on their feet, he's fine. Ain'tcha kiddo."

"Stop calling me kid, I'm a teenager," mumbled Peter.

"Which is just another term for a kid that thinks they're an adult so really you're not helping your case here. It's adorable how easy it is for you to dig your own grave, even if it with a beach shovel."

"Maybe he's more likely to break you if you keep teasing him," Loki noted.

I arched an eyebrow at him. "I find your lack of faith disturbing."

At the reference, Peter seemed to perk up again. "You've seen those movies?"

"Sweety, I might have been locked up for 5 years but even I know that everyone's seen at least one of them that's still alive."

"Why were you locked up, are you a criminal?"

"What did I tell you about asking sensitive questions, Loki, give me back my spider smasher."

"She was kept by Hydra, no you will not be beating on Tony's favorite project, especially not when there's surveilance everywhere in the tower."

I rolled my eyes at Loki and glared at him. "Meaniepants."

"Do all necromancers look like you?" Peter piped up.

My glare shifted to him then. "Look like me? You really wanna go there? I might be dead but I can still kick your ass, Spiderboy."

"It's spiderman," he grumbled.

"Not with that attitude it ain't."

He shot a web at me angrily and while I knew he never actually meant any harm and I wasn't quick enough to dodge it, I really hated spiderwebs since the first time I walked into one face first, unable to see it. Death magic rushed to the spot he hit me and essentially dissolved/rotted away whatever the hell the webs were made of so they fell apart and off me. Loki looked at me curiously while Peter looked just a little bit horrified. "Try that again, Pete, I dare you, I double dare you motherfucker." My eyes went white while blackened veins popped up around them. That got Peter more than horrified and he backed away with repetitive squeaky apologies. Seeing as he got the message, my face relaxed back to its normalness. "I fucking hate spiderwebs."

"I'm curious, if that was an enemy in front of you and not Peter, what would you have done?" asked Loki.

I turned over to the god and smirked maniacally. "Point me in the direction of one and you might find out."

"You didn't do this when we raided the Hydra base the second time."

"They weren't enemies, they're minions of them. Peter you're really cute but your curiosity is harshing my buzz here, lay off on the sugar and either buzz off or calmly wait for Tony to return. You're like ice cream to me right now, so good but so not worth the brain-freeze it comes with."

"If you're always getting a brain-freeze then you're eating it wrong," countered Peter smugly.

"There's hardly a wrong way to eat ice cream, kiddo."

"Um yeah there is, any way that's not right from a cone. Surely you jest."

"Prefer it with a spoon so I don't make a bigger mess of myself than I already do...and don't call me Shirely."

"Call me biased but I believe the spoon is the better option if we're talking the same food she was wolfing down right after she moved here," Loki noted. "I can't imagine a better way to eat it out of its original tub."

"Plus you can fend off intruders and late night food thieves with a spoon, kinda defenseless since you'd eat the cone after and then you got nothing but a sticky mess to contend with," I added.

"Hold up, that was you that ate my moosetracks ice cream?" Peter squeaked.

"Tony said he bought it and therefore it was his ice cream but he also said his helado es mi helado so not yours at all. Also Thor was the one that finished it because unlike some other Asgardians, he asked nicely."

Loki scoffed and playfully glared at me with crossed arms. "I do and take what I want, there's no need for formalities." His response was a well aimed throw pillow to the face because why else would you call them throw pillows if not for their intended purpose? "Are you sure you want to do that, love?"

"Am I sure? Kinda late to be asking that after the fact, init? But seeing as it already happened, I'm gonna go with yes I am, whatcha gonna do about it?"

"I have to ask if you're sure you wanna challenge the God of Mischief like that?" Peter asked me worriedly.

"Firstly, what's with people asking me if I'm sure, of the three of us which one here is still a virgin and learning the ropes of kicking ass and taking names? Secondly, if you're calling him that based solely on Norse Mythology he's also the goddess of eight legged foals and father of a world ending snake and thus far the only thing close to those myths is the bigass snake in his pants but that's none of my business."

Loki looked beyond amused at me both calling him out on his mythology and representation of it and that not so subtle compliment that may or may not have boosted his ego to the size of Yggdrasil and all the nine realms combined. "While I'm pleased with the last statement about me, I can very much assure I'm the master of mischief, that much of the myth is 100 percent true, Thor can attest to that and any surviving Asgardians besides him that know of me."

"Just because you are known for something specific does not make you the master of it. By that logic, I'm the Goddess of Zombies."

"Hela beat you to that by at least a thousand years," Loki argued.

I glared at my lover and eyed the nearest throw pillow in contemplation, maybe I should hold it against his face gently and then apply pressure. "Sure, if there really was just one realm of gods to go with that might work in your favor."

"What do you believe in then? Where does your faith lie if not in yourself?" he challenged.

"In my life, in my experience and in my line of work there is only kind of gods I follow in faith and those are the gods of death."

Whether he caught onto it or knew my line of thought somehow or not, I couldnt tell but his next response was damn near perfect. "And what do you pray to the gods of death."

I grinned wickedly. "Not today, bitch."

"I'm hurt you wouldn't consider praying for me on your knees," purred Loki.

"The only way to get me on my knees is by taking away what keeps me standing and at the moment you've become my reason to stand these days," I replied smoothly, catching him off guard with the claim of more mortal devotion. "Would think that's obvious considering I come alive at your touch."

We stared at each other for a long silent moment, Loki looking somewhere between admiration and something else I couldn't quite place, his eyes shining like freshly cut and polished emeralds. He also looked torn between wanting to shove me against the nearest wall and makeout or reply with a smoother, wittier comeback because this dude was as desperate to have me as he was to have the last word and prove he was the master of mischief. Men in a nutshell, doesn't matter where they're from or how hard they are to kill. Speaking of things hard to kill, the arachnaboy was still present in the room, watching the two of us verbally spar/flirt before something apparently clicked in his head and he frowned, turning toward me.

"H-how exactly would you know if I was a virgin or not?"

I cackled at his attempt to call me out and act at least a little more confident. "Elementary my dear Parker. Besides the fact you both look and act a day before you're legally of age in this country? It might have something to do with your reaction to Loki's pants snake- there it is! You look different shades of uncomfortable hearing about just the size of someone's dong. Guys usually are either confident with what they got or pretend they are long enough to snag someone to use it on and hope for the best...There's also the fact regardless of age and powers you're radiating with life unsullied, I can sense it on you. Lemme know when you are legal and I might be able to help you with that though." I winked at him, causing yet another priceless reaction from Peter and a scowl from Loki.

"I'm not overly fond of sharing."

"Don't knock til you tried it, besides, I could be six fix under by the time he's open for business, right Pete?" I nudged the poor kid with an elbow for good measure, it was too much fun messing with him.

"I'm sorry, I'm just getting so many mixed signals from you right now I gotta sit down and um wait for Mr. Stark."

I watched the kid scoot away to another room, leaving us alone for once and I grinned and relaxed, turning my attention back to Loki. "And that is how you get rid of a spider properly, if you can't kill it, make it wish it never came in."

"That whole charade was to scare him off?" asked Loki incredulously.

"He's just so precious and innocent, his ears must be burning from the naughty stuff by now. I mean yeah, if he was legal I still wouldn't mind corrupting him physically but I doubt he's got the stones to take me up on that should I be around then. Besides, there's more than one way to sacrificing a virgin these days, isn't that what you gods demand all the time?"

"I'd rather just take you on the sacrificial altar several times over till I'm the only god that can give you what you pray for," he growled.

I blinked in surprised, he was usually a little more clever and subtle in his suggestions and I somehow activated the animal in him with my incessant sexual teasing between him and Peter. "Would the couch do? I don't think the coffee table would survive despite it being solid mahogany." An uncharacteristic squeal of surprise escaped me as his response was a low growl followed closely by a master of mischief pouncing on me.

[chloe-clegane]

My Devotion and Mah Protection - Chapter 8 Aspiro Frigis

Ao3

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WARNING for Sexual Assault - Section will be marked beginning and end with ******

This chapter is dedicated to someone I love very much and I hope that you’ll read my full authors note on Ao3. 

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After two weeks, Rayla and Callum finally left their private love bubble at the Moon Nexus. They flew on the back of one of Janai’s hot cats she left for them after returning home. The plan being they would take it to Katollis, Amaya would stay an extra week until Callum’s birthday and then ride back to Lux Aurea, back to her girlfriend. It worked out well and it was nice making the trip in just a day.

They were going to Katolis for a reason Rayla had been dreading, and Callum was determined to do anything to get her excited or, at the very least, not grumpy or anxious. There was no way that the elevation ceremony would go as badly as she was catastrophizing. He knew she didn’t like the attention or the pomp, but he knew it wouldn’t be all bad.

“Things went great at the procession, you had fun, you smiled without faking it and people loved you. And you were adorable with all those flowers.” She crossed her arms and continued to pout. “You’re being stubborn,” he cooed.

“Flowers are one thin’ Callum, a coronet or what’ever Opeli called it is another.” She turned away from him to look forward as they rode.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her shoulder, “I’m excited you’re about to be my princess. My princess-wife, wife-princess, goddess-among-women, warrior- princess-of-moon, Moonshadow-former-assassin-wife-warrior-princess-goddess-of-beauty. My princess-wife-lover-who-is-lovely-and-perfect”. He smiled and kissed her shoulder after each title.

“Oh shut it!”

He could feel the roll of her eyes just by holding her and didn’t have to see her face to know she was blushing and smirking.

“I guess it’s not soooo bad, bein’ yers.” She leaned her head back and rested it on his shoulder, as he kissed her cheek and ear and nuzzled into her neck. She hummed her happy little hum.

“I’ll be your delicate princess and you’ll have tae fuck me in mah princess tower. Rescue me with yer hard cock and I’ll give you lots of royal babies or somethin’ stupid like that.” She sighed like a damsel.

“That’s not how I remember the fairy tale but sure, we can do that,” he chuckled and nibbled her ear. “But a lot of royal babies, huh? Where did that come from?”

“Nowhere! Shut up, stupid... I hate you,” she spluttered and wiggled from his grasp but he pulled her back in.

“You don’t hate me,” he laughed.

“Yeah, I do.”

“No, you don’t.”

She sighed. “No I don’t.”

“I love you, and it’s just cute to hear you bring it up.” He held her tight. “You already know how I feel about it”. He wanted children with her so badly, he longed for a family. He could already picture beautiful children that would be half her and half him. He had no idea if they’d have horns or moon magic or green eyes or ten toes. But he knew they would be precious and wonderful. As a bonus, he knew he would enjoy making them with her. It sounded romantic, filling her up under a full moon. He smiled into her neck. She hummed again.

“I wasn’t bRiNgIn’ it up, ” she muttered, “but… but I suppose it could be nice… later on… In the future.” She sighed sweetly. Hearing that made him feel warm and hopeful. This was maybe the second time she’d ever said she wanted children. She leaned in and he held her like that, smiling the rest of the ride home.

They arrived in the evening, they were tired but incredibly happy to see Ez and the rest. His aunt pulled both him and Rayla into a bone-crushing hug and then signed some very suggestive jokes about all the excessive post-wedding sex they’d been having. He was glad Rayla’s sign language still wasn’t that good yet, knowing her, she may have died of embarrassment and he wasn’t ready to be a widower.

Soren also had a lewd joke lined up. Rayla kicked him in the shin. Opeli smiled and welcomed them home. Corvus was happy to see them and challenged Rayla to a rematch of the last time they trained together.

After a quick meal, Ezran wanted to show them their new room himself. They were surprised it wasn’t just one. It was a private apartment. It had been one of the larger bedroom suites the castle kept for visiting royalty but it had been furnished and set up to their tastes. It was a definite upgrade from his childhood room conjoined with his brother’s.

There was a sitting room and a large bedroom. Both had double doors leading onto a generously-sized balcony. It also had a private washroom and another smaller empty bedroom on the other side of the sitting room. It was decently sized and bare but there was a big diamond pained window and the moon shone threw it beautifully. After the conversation on the ride there, Callum couldn’t help but imagine the possibilities of the spare room. Later on, he thought, in the future.

The main room was a great space, he loved the look of the large fireplace with a very comfortable-looking loveseat and two chairs. The July weather was too warm but he could already picture them sitting together in front of that fire in the winter. Curled up cozy under a blanket, cocoa in hand. Or the blanket beneath them while they make love naked on the floor. Callum had to suppress that happy thought for now. The furniture looked like it was all imported from Xadian and in the cooler color pallets that she preferred. Although, he noticed his old desk had been moved in and placed against a window and he smiled.

As Ezran gave them the tour Rayla walked around with a giant smile plastered on her face. His brother had done this for her. This was more than just a bedroom. This felt like a home, secluded and private for just the two of them. Callum knew It would be her hideaway, where she will go to get away and feel somewhat normal. They’d been so nomadic the last three years, from the time he left that fateful night with her. This would be their home, even if they still aren’t always here, they would have a place just for them.

“Is it ok?” Ezran asked unsure.

“Are you kiddin’?” Rayla hugged him fiercely and he laughed.

“Have I told you how happy I am that you’re my sister?” he asked with a grin.

“Maybe once or twice.” She smirked but then the smile softened “Ez, it’s perfect.”

Callum came up beside her resting a hand on her waist “Ezran, it’s great,” he said sincerely. “Thanks, buddy.”

The three of them shared a hug and Bait wiggling into the middle of it.

After that, Ezran and Bait excused themselves and left them to get some much needed sleep. But even exhausted they couldn’t resist breaking in the new bed. She led him to it with a gentle hand and a sweet blushing smile. The full moon could give her power, make her disappear, but any moonlight could make her radiate. As he undressed her in the moonlight and laid her gently down he felt lost in her love. Her hands, her lips the feel of her breath in his ear when she moans that she loves him. He loved her. Soft and tender.

In the morning, he could see her through the open doors of the balcony. Spinning on one foot, over and over again, each one more controlled than the last. He quietly watched her, and when her face whipped around he could see how focused she was. She had taken his words to heart. She was doing something that made her happy, even though she downplayed it and rolled her eyes when he caught her or asked her about it.

Finally, he shifted in the bed and said good morning. She almost fell, blushed and looked annoyed.

“Don’ spy on me!” she barked.

“How was that spying? I woke up and looked at you through an open door.” He laughed at how defensive she got.

“I-uh” she had no argument and she knew it. “Fine, you caught me”

“Come here.” He opened his arms for her and she floated to him. “I love to watch you dance.”

“Yeah but this is practice, havin’ you see this is embarrassin’,” she whined.

“Eh, you see me screw up all the time. It’s all fair, and besides, that all looked perfect to me.” He tucked her hair behind her ear and cupped her cheek. “You seem happy”

“Pshhh It’s not uh big deal, I’m just doin’ some pirouettes is all.” She pulled away and looked anywhere but his eyes.

“All I’m going to say, Rayla, is that I love that you’re thinking about the future. Our future.” He pulled her in and kissed her before her blush intensified and she fleed to freshed up before a team of maids came to torture her into her dress. The same one she wore to the procession.

“No, wait. Come back,” he cried after her half heartedly before laying back down. He felt the breeze from the open door and the comfort of the bed. The sheer curtains on the bed swayed.

When he was young, he felt so unsure of himself. He worried he would never be good enough for the life that was expected of him. He was always out of place, his mother was gone and he kept a guarded distance between him and his dad, probably his biggest regret. But right now he felt content. He had his wife, his brother, his aunt, and Soren. He had a place he felt at home. He had a purpose and a skill that made him proud and fulfilled. Even when he was falling out of trees and into mud or accidentally singeing his eyebrows off he got better and he kept learning. He didn’t know what would happen. The thought of Aaravos scared the crap out of him, but he knew he was loved. He knew he was capable of doing great things and he knew that with Rayla he would never feel lost or out of place again.

Months ago, they stood in the same spot announcing their engagement, again they smiled and waved. Then they arrived at the moment Rayla was dreading. The part where she knelt and Ezran placed a coronet on her head, careful not to catch it on her horns. Similar to Callum’s, but with the angled ends. He could feel the waves of anxiety that came off of her as they stood.

“She is now made Rayla, Princess of Katolis,” Opeli proclaimed.

He gave her a supportive smile as they both went back to the edge and waved. Again he kissed her and people cheered. But when Callum looked out into the crowd he saw people on the edges, booing. It happened at the procession, too, but this was more. It looked like they were handing out papers. He felt a pit in his stomach and now he felt as nervous as she was. This was supposed to go well, he thought it would go well

When things finished, Callum was able to collect the reading material, he and Rayla shared a look. She crumpled hers and threw it in on the ground. Callum clutched his and went on a warpath.

He practically kicked the throne room door open. Opeli and Ezran looked like they were finishing something. Soren was sitting in the corner happily polishing his sword. When they saw what was in Callum’s hand they all looked nervous. “What is this!?” his brother looked upset but Opeli spoke first.

“Prince Callum, we’ve been following things carefully,” Opeli said, trying to project calm.

“Oh, so you did know about this?” he accused. “Was no one going to tell me that the people in my own home hate me!? He looked at the pamphlet and cleared his throat. “The prince has been corrupted by foul magic and elven control. He has become the replacement of the once Lord Viren, who was turned evil by dark magic and influenced by a putrid elf mage to bring turmoil and destruction. If we allow this vile union that defies nature, we threaten to endanger the future of our kingdom. Our once great kingdom of Katolis has been made strong by human excellence for generations is endangered. ” he stopped and adjusted to the other page of the pamphlet “Now let me skip to this part: Our prince has been made a slave to a wanton elven temptress, who seduced him to gain access into our royal family.”  

He saw Rayla wince when he read that part. He knew she hadn’t read the whole thing before crumpling it up. He tried not to growl as he continued “I know some people still don’t like elves, that’s expected, but this!?”

Ezran was trying hard to stay calm, make him calm down. Callum didn’t get mad often, but this had set him off.

“Callum, we weren’t trying to hide it from you. We just didn’t want to worry you, things have slowly… escalated. The wedding was happening. You were both happy. Opeli, Aunt Amaya, and I all agreed we would wait until after the wedding.”

“OH, so this was a family affair!? Everyone just wanted to keep me in the dark?” he accused. Rayla stood to the side looking at the floor with a sad frown. He was surprised she wasn’t as mad as he was.

Ezran made his voice firm. “I’m standing by what I did! I wanted to give you a wonderful day, not have to worry about ignorant people. Believe me, Callum, I hate that people are saying terrible things about you and Rayla. I didn’t want you to be upset, just not for a little while.”

Callum thought about the way he had laid in bed that morning. “I’m such an idiot!” Callum growled. “How did I not see this coming? I’m living on a fucking cloud thinking I could have a perfect life. Thinking that two people loving each other could change the world. None of this is going to be easy is it?”

Rayla took his hand. “Callum, I think they have a point - not knowing didn’t hurt anything. We’ve been so happy, and maybe that’s okay.”

She looked at hir with pleading eyes. Making him wonder if he should just take a breather. “Ugh.” He looked at the stupid pamphlet in his hand.

Soren crossed his arms and sighed. “After the thing at the procession, I agreed with Ez too. Rayla you said it yourself, you didn’t want to ruin a good day.”

Callum whipped his head around to look at his wife. Her eyes were wide and she dropped his hands and closed her posture, then she shot Soren a look that could kill.

“What happened? How much of this did you know?”

She started apologetically “I didn’ think it was that big’of a deal, we’re used tae elves and humans hatin’ each other”

“What happened!?”

“What?”

“At the procession, what happened?”

She sighed. “Remember when I disappeared and got the journal? Some arseholes spat at me in the side alley. Soren got in their faces and barely had tae touch his sword before they turned tail. But Callum, the day was wonderful, so I just let it go. And it wasn’ about you, they hated me not you. So I didn' think it mattered.”

“That matters to me, Rayla. If people are spitting, throwing rocks at you in the streets, calling you a whore. I care! I care about people harming my wife. Saying that what we have isn’t real.”

Soren tried to intervene. “Callum, she really meant well.”

“Shut up, Soren!” He knew he should calm down, he knew he was being an asshole, but this made him snap.

Now Rayla’s nostrils flared. “You care about me but what makes you think I need yer protection. I can fight mah own battles! ”

“Oh, so you’re going to do the thing where you close off because you’re too fucking stubborn,” he shouted and could feet the heat in his face. She just loved to martyr herself.

She growled.

“Callum! Go cool off!” Ezran shouted at him, fed up. Callum was taken aback, but it turned into defiance.

“Sure, I’ll go cool off but not around any of you.”

Rayla's angry face fell, she stepped forward and softly spoke his name. But he just turned around and stormed out.

Callum flew out to the woods nearby and tossed lightning at a stone cliff until he got careless and hit a tree that quickly set fire. He panicked to put it out. “Good job! Start a forest fire in July, real smart! AGGGGH!” He yelled out to no one. He sat down on a rock and put his head in his hands and took a few deep breaths. He knew he should find a less destructive way to vent his anger… this just worked well.

He felt ashamed for yelling like that, but it has all just made him so angry, it bothered and it scared him. He took the piece of paper back out of his pocket and felt sad. They called him an idiot, they called her a monster and a harlot. These people knew nothing about them and they had it all wrong. He and Rayla were in love, they were a family and they were happy. He worried that maybe people really aren’t ready for what they had. They all had good intentions and for Rayla especially. He yelled at her for not telling him one stupid thing. He was the one being a dick, making them unhappy.

He decided to walk most of the way back and it gave him time to think about all of the apologies he needed to make. The first of which he owed to Rayla.

Callum entered their apartment of rooms and set aside his spellbook and sighed. It was wrong of him to blow up like that, it was over the top and out of line. But so were those pamphlets. He found it terrifying to be compared to Viren, he was nothing like him. And Rayla is nothing like Aaravos. He looked out onto the balcony, this was his home, but it felt… cold despite the July heat.

“Hey, Babe, I missed you.”

Callum jumped and spun around, he hadn’t realized Rayla was in their apartment. But why should he be surprised, she's a master of stealth, but on the other hand since their wedding ritual he’s felt more in tune with her. So in a way, he was very surprised. It had been a strange sensation. He was surprised again, as she came around the corner. She was wearing one of her silky night dresses and her stockings, the special ones he’d bought her the last time they were here in Katolis. He had to shift his pants a little just at the sight of her, she was so exquisite. But he was confused.

“Babe?” he chuckled. “Since when do you call me babe?”

She looked away and shrugged “Oh I don’ know, don’ worry about that. Come here, Callum,” she sounded off, nervous. He wondered if it was because he’d been upset with her. She closed the distance between them and threw herself into his arms and kissed him.

“Whoa, I uh-I appreciate the gesture but can we talk? About earlier?”

**********************************

She scoffed and swatted his chest playfully. “I told you, don’ worry. We don’ have tae talk about that right now,” she took his hands and pulled him into the other room and towards the bed. Callum wasn’t opposed to where this was heading. In fact, he loved those stockings and that nightgown but most importantly he loves the beautiful creature wearing them.

“Rayla,” he chuckled, taking both her hands in his. “Seriously though, you don’t have to plan apology sex, or whatever this is.”

He dropped her hands and held her face, she opened her mouth to speak and he kissed her, long and tender. When he pulled away, she kept her eyes closed for a beat. It was kind of cute like she wasn’t ready to be done. It put a smile on his face, “I will happily make love to you my wonderful wife, but I want to talk first . I shouldn’t have gotten so upset earlier. And you-” he kissed her gently on the forehead. “don’t need to be sorry, I do. You didn’t deserve any of that.”

She threw her arms around his neck and pulled him back in for another kiss and it felt strange. The energy was different and couldn’t put his finger on it, sporadic.

She pulled away and laughed. “Well fine, I guess I’m not sorry then. See, everythin’s fine we both agree it’s oh-kaaay. Now come here.” She shoved him back onto the bed. She wasn’t laughing when she pushed him, she wasn’t...

“Rayla, love, can we just talk? I mean it. This whole thing has me-“ he tried to sit up but she jumped on him kissing and pulling at his clothes.

“Don’ you want me Callum?” she muttered against his skin.” He did want her, he didn’t want to reject her, he didn’t want to make her feel bad. Worrying about becoming a public enemy in his own home wasn’t really putting him in the mood. Then he shuddered as she opened his pants and in two quick strokes had him hard. It felt wonderful, Callum thought maybe he just needed to relax.

“Yeah, I always want you,” He took a breath and smiled, hoping it didn’t look as forced as it felt. He couldn’t help the hum in his chest as she stroked him. He started running his hands up and down her thighs. Relax, just relax, she wasn’t making him relaxed. “Rayla, you can slow down, we have all afternoon. How-how about I to take care of you first-” she cut him off.

“It's fine, I just want you now. Relax.”

Relax, why couldn’t he just relax. She wasn’t engaging him, it felt like she was doing things to him. She was lining herself up.

“I love you but can we stop-“ he shifted to try and rise but she put her hands on his chest and slid herself down. He shuddered.

“Oh Callum, I love you too,” she moaned, but it wasn’t her usual low humming moan, it was higher pitched.

He felt unsure and wondered why he couldn’t just get in the mood. This is his wife, she loved him and she loved her, “I guess we can talk after…” he said weakly. She smiled at him and kept riding him. Why didn’t he feel loved, he wondered?

He reached for her face to pull her down, kiss her, take over. But she pushed his hand away and held herself upright. She seemed like she was already winded. That was strange. Why does this feel so strange?

She was moaning on top of him and while Callum couldn't deny his own pleasure it didn’t feel right. He didn’t want to be doing this.

“Stop, Rayla lets stop” he tried to get up again and she shifted her weight onto his chest again.

“Callum let me do this, let me love you”. She cooed at him. This didn’t feel like she loved him. Why wasn’t she listening to him? He moaned despite himself.

“See Callum it’s fine, It feels good” She was panting.

It wasn’t fine, he realized there were tears running down his face. He pushed her shoulder and she shifted her weight on him again “Rayla please, this isn’t ok”.

She put her hand over his mouth, nearly all her weight was on his face. She was keeping an erratic pace. She’s never put a hand on his mouth before, she’s never made him feel like this before. He let out a muffled moan underneath her hand. He didn’t like this, it felt good so why didn’t it feel right.

He didn’t want to shove her or hurt her, but she wouldn't listen. He slapped at her arms, pushing them off his face “Stop!”

“Callum don’ be like this” Then they were swiping at each other, grabbing at each other's wrists.

He was crying “Stop!” her hands were on his face and swatting him trying to keep control of him.

***************************************

And then he heard her voice, but she wasn’t speaking, it was coming from the other room. “Callum are you ok, who are you wi-Callum?“ She sounded worried. Then he heard Rayla’s voice scream his name.

He looked up and saw his wife in the doorway. Now, there was no hesitation. He shoved the Rayla on top of him onto the floor as hard as he could.

His eyes were wide and his heartbeat was in his ears as he shook, tears running down his cheeks. He looked between the two of them.

The Rayla in the door wore a look of horror and it transformed into anger. “Wha-Who the fuck are you?” Her voice was fierce, but her eyes were still wide and disturbed.

The Rayla on the floor was angry, defensive. “Who am? Who are you!?” Then she looked up at him with pleading eyes. “Callum, this is obviously a trick. Do something!”

Things felt like they were in slow motion.

The one in the door slowly drew her blades. The one on the ground stood and approached him.

“Aspiro frigis!”

[ontherockswithsalt]

A Made Man

(ao3 story link)

A/N: HERE WE ARE. The story began with Jamie getting ready for a Reagan Family Sunday dinner and 40-some chapters later, it wraps up at another one. This is the last chapter of A Made Man, the third installment of The Penthouse series. What a damn ride this has been. Oof. Thanks for being here for it all.

Chapter 47.

“Uncle Jamie, that’s a pretty sick watch.”

I barely hear the observation from my nephew Jack across the dining room table. My gaze is fixed on the mountain of macaroni and cheese on my plate in front of me, the sight alone making my stomach turn.

“Hey Uncle Jamie—” Danny’s voice cuts through as he settles into his seat. “Jack likes your watch.”

“What?” I utter, glancing up. “Oh. Thanks.”

“That new?” My brother questions with a nod.

I twist my wrist to look at the watch Noble gave me, then clear my throat. “Uh, yeah.”

“Let’s be a little less focused on sick watches just before we say grace, huh?” My grandpa announces and I see Jack snicker with a look to Nicky at Pop’s choice of words. “Since you’re the birthday boy, how about you lead off?”

Suppressing a groan, I scoot closer to the table and rest my elbows on either side of my plate. “Since it is my birthday, I reserve the right to pass,” I decide. “Someone else.”

“Oh, boo!” Danny jeers. “You don’t get a pass.”

“You pass all the time,” I argue.

“Alright, I’ll start.” Erin announces.

My dad pipes up, “Somebody please.”

My sister clears her throat. “Bless us, O Lord—”

Clasping my hands, I tip my forehead down and rest it there, just praying to make it through dinner. 

After grace, as everyone’s passing dishes, I’m relieved, and a little hopeful I can tune out, when Nicky takes over the conversation.

“Was anyone else really moved by that sermon?” She announces, passing the requested salt and pepper over to my dad. “I thought it was so romantic.”

“Romantic?” Sean protests. “Gross, it’s church.”

“Not gross,” she contends.

“I thought it was very beautiful,” Linda indulges her.

“I went and looked up that quote Father Quinn used when he talked about loss and love,” Nicky tells the table, adjusting to pull a folded piece of paper from one of her pockets. “It’s not from scripture; it’s from a book by C.S. Lewis.” As she unfolds the note, she glances up at my father. “Is it okay if I read it, Grandpa?”

My dad inhales deeply through his nose and then offers her one of his tight-lipped smiles to humor her. “Have at it.” 

Nicky grins, straightening her shoulders. “In love,” she recites, “there is no safe investment. If you want to make sure of keeping your heart intact, lock it up safe in the casket of your selfishness--”

I scoff this unintended loud breath and hunch over my plate, as if I could somehow escape this. 

Slowly, she turns her gaze my way. “I’m not finished.”

“Your niece is trying to appreciate literature,” Danny taunts. “Do you mind?”

Acquiescing, I merely gesture to her to carry on.

“But in that casket,” she resumes. “It will change. It will not break, but instead your heart will become impenetrable. The only place outside of heaven where you can be perfectly safe from all the dangers of love is hell--”

“Alright--” Erin speaks up while the end of Nicky’s reading prompts looks from Danny’s kids.

My brother chuckles. “It’s a little deep for fried chicken night. That’s all.”

“Give me a break,” I mutter, reaching for my water. “Who gave the homily? Doctor Phil? Glad I missed it.”

“I really enjoyed it.” Nicky shrugs. “I think it’s so true. To love is to be vulnerable--”

“What are you talking about?” I hear the way my voice cuts harshly into her easy tone, but I’m too tired to come off any other way. “You’re too young to even know what that means, Nicky.”

“Well wait a minute--” she disputes. 

I lean in to look past her at my sister. “You gonna let her spout off about the dangers of love? I didn’t think that was a concept you would endorse.”

Erin just meets my gaze, pausing to draw in a thoughtful breath.

“It wasn’t meant to start an argument,” Nicky insists. “I was going to relate it to the job of being a police officer--”

“Yes, that sounds good,” my dad speaks up. “Let’s relate it to the job.”

“No, let’s relate it to Jamie,” Danny cuts in. “Since that got him all torqued up. What happened, kid? You forget to lock up your heart in the casket of selfishness?”

Nicky giggles at the jab.

I drop my fork and it clatters against the plate as I push back and get to my feet. Turning away from the table, I stalk off out of the dining room.

“Hey. Hey!” I hear my brother holler after me along with Erin who calls my name.

But I can’t listen to this shit. I’d rather sit and have to deal with with my grandpa gripe about those homosexuals appropriating the word gay. It used to mean happy!

I’m not sure where I intend to end up so I just make my way to the bathroom and shut the door.

Already I regret the dramatic storm-off because now I’ll be expected to provide an explanation. Plus that was shitty to do to Nicky.

But of all days, this has to be the one where someone initiates some damn discussion about heartbreak like a cruel joke they’re all in on. 

I pinch right between my eyes and take a deep breath. Fuck, I’m gonna throw up. 

My core seizes and it's only a moment later that I do.

***

After a few minutes, splashing water on my face, attempting something that comes off as normal breathing, I make my way back to the dining room.

“Jamie are you okay?” Nicky speaks up. “I’m sorry if—”

“No, I’m sorry, Nicky.” I sigh, holding onto the back of my chair where I stand. “I’m uh— I’m not feeling well. I think I need to—”

“Did you puke?” Sean wonders, prompting a look of disgust from my grandfather as he chews.

“Sean.”

“It’s your favorite dinner,” Jack adds. “Mac and cheese for your birthday.”

“Boys—” Linda leans in. “Uncle Jamie doesn’t feel well.”

I acknowledge my nephews. “I know. And I appreciate it.”

“Mom made a cake.”

“You don’t look so hot,” Linda notices. “Maybe you should go lie down.”

Deciding not to argue with Danny’s wife, I simply nod. “Yeah. Maybe that’ll help.” Then I turn and head for the staircase. I could try to make it home, but it’s highly likely I’ll throw up again or have some kind of panic attack behind the wheel. So I settle on hiding in my old room upstairs instead.

I never come up here. My childhood bedroom is now this half-transitioned guest room, but a few remnants — a Harvard pennant, along with framed prints of pictures I took at Joshua Tree, a camping trip I made the summer between undergrad and law school — still hang on the wall near my bed. The old Parking For Jets Fans Only metal sign has been hung up by the door for as long as I can remember. It’s weird how these things take you back in time. 

The tall bookcase in the corner displays a few diecast model cars Joe and I used to collect, books I loved in high school, and a stack of CDs next to my stereo. 

I sniff a soft laugh when I peruse the album titles, so distinctly an era that seems a lifetime ago. Sliding out the case for U2’s Rattle and Hum, I pry it open and fit the disc in the CD player. I set it to shuffle the songs and then turn to fall across the bed. 

I don’t know how I got here. It’s like I screwed up so many steps ago, I can’t pinpoint where. I could go farther back than the night I met Noble. 

I think about when I proposed to Sydney. I was twenty-six, deliriously self-righteous after three years in the bubble of ivy league law school, acing the bar exam and convincing myself I’d never wear the NYPD uniform. 

I don’t know what life I pictured for us. But it was an easy enough fit. 

And then my brother was killed. 

The devastation was so consuming I thought I’d never be capable of caring about anything after the loss of Joe. Since, I’ve had to find life with some other purpose. With that engagement in a sort of permanent limbo, I enrolled in the Police Academy. Because it was inevitable? Because I had something to prove? A calling to step up for Joe? Probably all of it. 

And if I never had — If I’d stayed in private practice, married Sydney — would I feel like this much of a fuck up? I’ve never second guessed leaving that path behind until now. 

All I know is that I wish I’d never met Noble Sanfino.

A light tap on the door draws my attention across the room. It eases open and I see Erin, lingering there with some hesitation. 

I simply turn my gaze back up to the ceiling. “What now?” I murmur.

“Jamie, what happened?”

Exhaling a pained, breathy laugh, I shake my head. “It doesn’t matter.”

She steps in the room enough to close the door. “I take it you had a talk with Nick.”

“We’re done, Erin,” I tell her. “It’s over. So— Nice work.”

“Jamie.” She says my name again with this concerned shock and it’s such a fucking joke to me.

My head throbs and I just want this all to be something I never think about. 

“What do you mean it’s over?”

“I questioned him about whether he knew Tommy Messina. He doesn’t. But the reality is he can never be safe in New York so what’s the point? He ended it and he’s staying in Florida. There isn’t much else to explain.”

She comes closer, arms crossed over her chest and glances around the room. “That can’t be the only solution.”

“Well that was his solution so—”

“I’m so sorry. That wasn’t my intent.”

Fuck off, I want to say. I sit up and put my feet on the floor. “Erin.”

“I like Nick a lot.”

I just shake my head and cough out this unamused laugh. “What does that matter now?”

“If I hadn’t called you with that information, would this have happened?”

I shrug. “It would have come to this point sooner or later. I guess we just didn’t want to face it until we had to.”

“So now what?”

I look at her like what the hell do you think. “I guess you can sleep at night without the threat of your car being set on fire. What do you mean now what?”

“You love him, though.” She says it quietly because this is a bizarre conversation we’ve never really had. 

If anything, her input on my relationships has only ever been her chiming in with smug, big sister commentary that I never asked for. 

“I’ll get over it,” I mutter.

She sits there a minute as if she’s contemplating her role in this. It doesn’t matter, though. What’s done is done.

Eventually, she softly attempts her next question. “Do you plan on coming out to Dad at some point?”

I glance at her, my brow furrowed. “Come out about what? No.”

She sighs when she figures that’s a dead end path and tries another way.  “There are options, Jamie. I mean you guys could live in Connecticut, that’d probably be a safer situation, and you could commute—”

Confused, I just shake my head. Don’t do this, don’t fucking problem-solve after that bullshit phone call this morning that prompted this whole fallout. As if I’m anywhere near the right frame of mind to look at the situation with some kind of reason.

Blankly, I merely offer, “I know.” And that nauseated feeling starts to spin in my head once more, but I go on. “That wasn’t the conversation though. We weren’t at a place where we’re like, ready to live together. I don’t know. It’s like, all of a sudden—”

Exhaling hard, the muscles in my chest seize. I try to tip my head back and breathe up at the ceiling but the air is trapped. So I lean forward at the waist where I sit on the edge of the bed and hang my head between my knees. 

I feel Erin’s palm up the center of my back. “Hey, hey, hey— It’s okay. Jamie, it’s okay.”

“I shouldn’t have even considered—”

“Shh.” She cuts me off. “You need to breathe.”

There’s a tightness in my throat and I feel like I’m choking, Like my inhale doesn’t go anywhere. I can tell myself I’m sinking into an anxiety attack but my body doesn’t listen to the rationale. It’s terrifying that I know what it is and I can’t stop it. Telling myself I’m okay doesn’t make it relent. 

“Jamie,” Erin whispers. Then I feel pressure on my back like she’s resting her forehead there as she sits beside me, the weight steadying me. 

She’s had to do this before. But it hasn’t been since mom was really sick, there near the end, that I’ve felt the grip of panic on me this tight. Usually, I’m able to anticipate it, unwind it before I’m held captive, but not this time. 

“Try to breathe in for four seconds,” she says. “With me. Okay?”

Closing my eyes, I attempt to draw in a deep breath but I just cough out air almost like a sad laugh. “I can’t.”

“Okay two seconds,” she bargains.

I make myself sit upright and press my hands on the edge of the bed. “Goddammit,” I mutter in frustration.

“Try again. Let it be all you think about.”

Hanging my head, I inhale deeply, channel my energy into a steady breath that expands my back.

“Let it out just as slow.”

I do. But there’s still this hard squeeze like someone’s pressing just beneath my ribcage.

"See that was four seconds,” she murmurs. “Show-off."

"Don't patronize me," I manage.

Erin laughs softly and continues the steady back and forth path of her hand on my back. "Fine then as far as breathing goes, I've seen better."

Finally I exhale in amusement and just shake my head. I work on another breath.

I keep on like that for a few more, determined to follow the pattern — in for four and out for four, the sounds of it loud between my ears. It’ll pass. I can’t fight it, I have to just know I’ll get to the other side. But fuck, I don’t even want to. This will be over and Noble will still be gone.

After a few steady moments, Erin squeezes my shoulder.  "This song," she muses, letting the slow-building track of All I Want Is You set a soothing rhythm to the air I take in. "Remember when Joe and I took you to that U2 concert? You were what, you’d just graduated high school?"

Another gradual breath while I think about that night out in the city. "Yeah," I answer. "Danny was on modified assignment working The Garden."

Erin chuckles. "I need to remind him of that cushy little gig next time he tries to say the bosses are too soft on you."

I sit there and let the music sink through me. This song is so goddamn sad it hurts. First Nicky’s absurd to love is to be vulnerable speech. And now the lull of Bono’s haunting voice musing that all the promises we break, from the cradle to the grave, when all I want is you — everything is a joke. 

I focus on the memory of that night, years ago with Erin and Joe. When simple shit like going to concerts and walking around New York, our ears ringing and our voices hoarse, was enough of a thrill and not a lot else mattered. “We had nosebleed seats,” I recall.  “And Danny managed to get us down front."

"That was a pretty awesome night."

I breathe again and the sick feeling starts to dissipate. "Between that, and this room, it's like… I'm remembering another life." 

She glances up and around, seeming to consider the memories held in time here. "It sort of was."

I swallow hard and close my eyes. "Somewhere I went wrong, Erin."

She just turns her gaze to me and offers a quiet "Shh" worried I'll get worked up again.

"How is this where I'm at?"

"Jamie, don't look for answers now."

"I have to look for answers or I'm gonna start missing him like hell."

"So let yourself miss him."

I take another slow, deep breath as the heat beneath my skin begins to taper off. At this point, it’s like missing Noble is all I have the energy for. It’s all I can do to tip back across the bed once more and close my eyes. 

My empty heart dwindles its beat down to something that almost feels normal, leaving the slightest flicker of clarity, reminding me that my only control is over what I do next.

[fathertaurus]

Late Night Phone Call -- David Dobrik smut

A/N: Oof it’s been a hot minute since the last time I posted some of my own writing on the blog but I was inspired by you all lol. Hope you enjoy this Au concept because I can definitely see myself developing it further.

You were just curious.

Honestly.

It was one of those nights where you just couldn’t fall asleep for the life of you for no apparent reason and it was growing increasingly annoying. Tossing and turning under your sheets soon became tedious, the irritation boiling inside of you until you forced yourself up and out of bed and down stairs to your living room with a blanket. Grabbing the remote from the coffee table you flicked the flat screen on and got comfortable amongst the cushions of your couch.

It had been an hour or so now, the clock across the room reading 3:06 and yet sleep was no where on your radar. You had taken to scrolling through your phone due to lack of content broadcasting on just about every television station—it was that point in the night where there were only infomercials playing.

Finger flicking the screen of your phone once more, you absentmindedly scrolled through your twitter, reading but not really absorbing anything due to lack of interest.

“Are you feeling lonely?”

Your ears perked at the ominously seductive voice echoing off your walls, eyes instantly shifting to the tv.

Prancing around in nothing but tight briefs were a montage of multiple male models, all of them genuinely too pretty to portray whoever the add was selling. But it did the job in catching your attention so you have to give them credit.

“Are you in the need for companionship, a fiery Friday night inside instead of out?” The man’s sickly sweet tone spoke over the provocative music decorating the background of the video, another man appearing laying sprawled out on a couch.

“Why don’t you take your chances and call us at 1-800-FUN-TIME.”

A phone sex company? Of course this would only air at 3 in the morning.

“Spend time talking to some of our hottest guys with the hottest voices. Only 50 cents per minute with your one night beau.”

“Yeah right.” You scoffed to yourself, snorting and reaching forward to grab the remote, switching the channel to another random number and letting it play as you returned back to your phone.

30 or so minutes passed.

And you couldn’t get that damn background music out of your head. The jingle rang between your ears continuously, despite your efforts to ignore it and focus on the hundreds of tweets scrolling over your phone screen. It was obnoxious.

Though you had to admit it had been quite some time since the last time anyone besides yourself got you off, 7 months to be exact. You were constantly tied up at work, project after project within the company being handed to you which left you little time to associate with anyone besides those in your work circle. And if you weren’t stuffed underneath piles and piles of manila folders and emails you were sleeping. The last time you went outside of the house for yourself was when you walked from your front door to the mailbox on the first floor of the apartment complex, and that was less than 10 minutes.

This just wasn’t a period in your life where you could really search for a relationship and actually have one. All your efforts went into work and work only.

But maybe you deserved attention..even if it was a paid job.

Before you could even recognize what you were doing the pads of your fingers were typing away on the keypad, the numbers rolling off as if you had them memorized (which after that commercial flashing it over and over again at the bottom of the screen you practically did).

“1-800-FUN-TIME”

The phone began to ring and suddenly your palms were sweating, cheating constricting itself of air as the realization hit you that you were *actually doing this.

But you could hang up anytime. You weren’t obligated to go through with the phone call. If you wanted to you could end the call right now and go back to reading through your phone as if nothing happened—

“Welcome to the Fun Time Sex Operator line! Give us one moment whilst we connect you to one of our eagerly waiting guys!”

Shit.

As the phone began to ring once more you began to rack your brain over whether or not you were actually going to do this. If you wanted to back out this was the exact moment to do so. So..why weren’t your hands moving to end the call?

“Hey there sexy, I’m David.”

Your heart dropped into the pit of your stomach.

There was actually someone on the other line—this was happening. And even though he only spoke 5 words your body was already responding to the sound of “David’s” voice. Maybe it really had been too long if you could get wet this quickly.

“Hello?” Senses flooding back you jumped at the sound of his voice, remembering you were in a conversation.

“H-Hi.”

He chuckled, “Hi there.”

Your face flushed, slapping your hand against your face in embarrassment at your lack of speech right now. But what do you say to a phone sex operator?

“Can I assume this is your first time using a sex line?” He sounded humored, voice dancing out of the receiver onto your skin creating a ripple you didn’t expect.

“Mhhm.”

“Well then, I promise to be gentle.” Chills, actual chills, “How about you tell me your name pretty?”

You contemplated it for a moment—somehow now feeling more in tune with yourself to manage the basics of human understanding and interaction. Should you give your identity away? Wasn’t the whole purpose of phone sex meant to protect yourself of exposure?

“Uhm, I-I don’t know if I want to.” You stumbled, mumbling softly back to him.

“That’s okay,” You could hear the smile in his tone, “Do you have something you’d like me to call you instead?”

Another pause as you thought to yourself. The options were limitless. But after hearing David’s voice, surprisingly there was only one thing you wanted him to call you.

“Baby girl.”

It came out as more of a question rather than a demand, but your nerves were still a bit frazzled—this was a situation you didn’t exactly know how to adjust to. David on the other hand seemed to tense at your choice of name, the sound of his breath getting caught in his throat echoing over the receiver.

“Mm baby girl..I like that.” He moaned.

Heat pooled between your legs like a flash flood.

“So, baby girl, what can I do for you?”

It was the ultimate question with an answer you don’t know if you exactly had. You knew the intent of course—it was in the title. But what did you want?

“To cum.”

Another obvious grin from his end.

“I can help you with that.”

“Okay.” You whispered, bracing yourself for whatever was to come.

“Take off your pants baby girl, want you in just your underwear.” An electric feeling raced under your skin causing goosebumps to rise yet again, the tone of David’s voice changing from soft and endearing to dark and demanding in the matter of a moment striking something deep within you.

You did as asked, pulling the strings loose on your sweatpants before shakily shrugging them off your legs. They were tossed to the floor, your top following creating a pile that you would return to later.

“They’re off.”

“Good. Now put me on speaker, you’re gonna have to be able to both of your hands.” A moan nearly escaped your lips at his words, toes curling and pussy aching from the sheer directness. You hastily did as instructed, placing your phone to the side—a far enough distance where you could perform anything David was going to ask of you and still communicate back and forth.

“Y-You’re on speaker.”

He simpered before he spoke again, now even closer to the mic than he was, “Play with your clit baby girl, one finger rolling over and over again on your sensitive button.”

Easing them inside you gaped at the feeling of yourself being stretched out. Sure it didn’t compare to your toys or an actual cock but it did feel great. 

“In and out for me.” He whispered, as if he could see everything that was happening, “Want to hear how wet you already are for me.”

You moaned at his words without any control, his voice putting you in a heavy daze which was beginning to mix with the pleasure arising inside of your core, creating a deadly intoxicating concoction. 

“I can hear it baby girl,” David grinned, “Sounds like you’re in a puddle and we’ve only been talking for 10 minutes.” 

You opened your mouth to combat with a witty response but he spoke before you.

“It’s been a long time since anyone’s paid that little cunt any attention huh?” 

Another moan slipped off your tongue, practically dripping down onto your bra-cladded breasts. You had never admitted it, not even to past conquests but dirty talking did something to you. You found it to be better than any other form of foreplay. Something about someone being so demanding over you, forcing you to succumb to their wishes please a part of you like nothing else.

Unknowingly you picked up the pace, fingers pumping in and out at a heavy rhythm--earning a cry.

“Sound so good for me baby girl.” David spoke, “Keep going just like that.��

Your body seemed to be more sensitive than usual, your orgasm already making its way down faster than it ever had in the past. It was a startling feeling, unfamiliar. Normally it took you quite some time to build up, but now? Maybe this stranger was capable of doing more with less than any of your past partners ever were when they had more.

“Da-david!” You moan, digits fiddling with your clit whilst the others slipped in and out of your dripping cunt “Please!”

“Aww you already sound like you’re gonna come undone. Do you want to cum baby girl?”

“Yes!” You whine out, back arching as you throw your head back letting out loud, incessant moans. You’re so close, fingers doing you so surprisingly well that you could feel a knot in your stomach, straining to come undone but then suddenly everything stops. David’s voice interjecting

“Don’t cum,” He growled, “Not yet.”

“P-Please!” You whine in response, body flailing around on the couch at the sudden lack of physical attention. “David.. please let me cum.” You wail.

“Nu uh Baby girl, you wanted me to make you cum. So you have to listen to everything I tell you to.” He whispers, voice corse and slightly strained as though he himself was trying to hold back.

“How? Please I’ll do anything!” You cry out.

“Just listen to me,” He snarled, “And if you cum before I say so then I’ll hang up.” Obviously he couldn’t see you but you nodded your head furiously in agreement, moaning out a shaky ‘Okay’ as you tried to retain some air.

“Good girl.” David beamed. “Now open your legs again, three fingers in your hot cunt now but don’t forget about your clit.” He says. Your body follows instinctually, legs falling to their sides at his will.

The moment you slip your fingers back in you can feel your walls start to clench, the sensation having you groaning out

“Oh--fuck!” You cry, toes curling and body trembling under your own touch.

“There you go baby girl.” You can barely heard him, attention fuzzy from the overwhelming pleasure stretching from your core to every other nerve ending in your body. “Just imagine those fingers are mine, pumping in and out of you, caressing your clit like no other guy ever has.”

You jut forward, every movement happening now beyond your control. The pleasure was leveling up and quickly—euphoria near, on the brink.

“I bet you taste so fucking good.” He groans, chest sounding heavy with strained breaths.

“David, I-I’m gonna cum. ” You whine, the pace of your fingers speeding up rapidly to edge you further.

“Hold it.” He growls yet again. “Hold it baby girl."

“I can’t,” You huff, the knot in the pit of your abdomen burning so brightly you knew you had little to no time left. “Let me cum, please just let me cum.” You chant. It feels like you’re going to explode from the inside out, body so close and aching for that sweet release. Tears are streaming down your face as you cry out.

“Okay.” He finally speaks, “Cum for me, let it go.” The moment after the words leave his mouth you’re completely blinded by the pleasure irrupting from inside of you. There’s no stopping your body’s reaction to the orgasm: crying out loudly and body quaking as the waves expand inside of you like a stretched out rubber band.

And David is talking you through the whole thing, words of encouragement and admiration spilling one after another.

The orgasm subsides and now the both of you are just met with the sound of your heavy breathing, and if loud enough—your beating heart.

“You sound so pretty when you cum for me baby girl.” He coos to you, tone returning to it’s gentler touch that you heard when he first introduced himself. You’re more than a mess, brain coming out of the clouds to try and find the right words to say.

“T-Thank you.”

His now familiar chuckle echos over the phone yet, ringing out into the open space of your apartment, “No problem baby girl. Have a good night.”

The phone cuts out and the call drops, David leaving you in nothing but a puddle of his own making.

A/N: oof hope you enjoyed!

[solei28]

Coffee, Pie, You- Chapter 8

James went to the living room to wait for you. It took more effort to get out of the tub on your own, but you did it. You went through the draws and found a wonderful variety of bras and panties. They were lined up by size so easily found your fit.

You opened the closet to find it packed with a wide variety of clothes. They were lined up by size as well. You chose a simple pair of black jeans and a black t-shirt. There were boxes of shoes and sneakers stacked on the bottom of the closet. You pulled out a black pair of kicks.

Looking at yourself in the mirror, you laughed. I really do wear a lot of black, huh?”  James was sitting on the couch next to Steve. They were looking over some files when you walked in.

“Hey, Y/N. How are you feeling?” Steve asked.

“In pain, but I’ll be alright.” You looked at the file on the table. There was a small picture of Sandra clipped to it. “Any luck finding her yet?” James shook his head. “Not yet. Don’t worry, we’ll get her soon enough.” He closed the file and stood up. “Ready to go to the Med Bay?”

“Yeah, I’m afraid I may have made things worse,” you said worriedly.

“We should hurry, then. Come on,” James reached out a hand to you.

You walked over and grabbed his hand. Steve got up and grabbed the file. The three of you made your way to the elevator.

“I’ll be in conference room B if you need me. I’ll comb over the file with FRIDAY's help,” Steve said to James.  

“Sure thing. Just keep me posted if you find anything.” James looked at you smirking. “Are you ready to meet another Avenger? In the Avengers Tower.”

“Are you making fun of me, Buchanan?” you said shocked.

He chuckled softly and gave your hand a squeeze. “Just a little.”

“I cannot believe you would do such a thing when I’m in such a state, Sir,” you said with mock disappointment.

“Sorry, I couldn’t help it. You’re really adorable when you’re starstruck,” he told you with that lopsided grin you were falling for.

Your heart fluttered at being called adorable. Despite all you had been through over the past week, this beautiful man made you giddy. You knew you were falling hard and you didn’t care. You could see in the way he looked at you that he was falling too.

The elevator stopped. “I’ll catch you 2 love birds later,” Steve said smiling while walking out of the elevator.

“Later, punk,” James said rolling his eyes when Steve winked at him before the doors closed.

“The 2 of you have the best friendship,” you commented.

“You think so?” James asked intrigued.

You nodded happily. “Yeah. Even as old men, you guys are still really close.”

An eyebrow shot up. “Old men?”

You snickered. “You are like 100, right?”

“That’s cold, doll,” James said pouting.

You giggled and shook your head. “It’s ok. I like older men.” You stood up on your tiptoes and kissed him.

James hummed when you pulled away. He put his forehead on yours, looking into your eyes. Cupping your face in his hand he ran his thumb across your jaw. “Doll, when you’re better and we put Sandra away, would you go out to dinner with me?”

Your face lit up and made his breath catch in his throat. “I would love to, Buchanan.”

He smiled brightly and kissed you once more. Your mouth still tastes like pizza and he can’t get enough. He nibbles at your bottom lip pulling a giggle from you.

“Ahem.”

You both jump and look at the elevator door. Bruce Banner is standing next to Tony Stark. Bruce has a shy smile on his face while Tony has a shit eating grin in his.

You quickly look down, crimson making its way up to your neck and cheeks. You hear James clears his throat.

“Banner, this is Y/N,” James says quickly.

“Hi,” you squeaked out.

“Hello,” Bruce said.

“Can you check her injuries. She, um hurt herself, in the, um, shower.” James rubbed his hand on the back of his neck, eyes darting around.

“Yes, of course. Come on,” Bruce said.

“Thank you,” you said following him out of the elevator.

“So, I see you 2 have finally taken the next step in your relationship,” Tony whispered to James as they walk down the hall.

James gave him an irritated look. “Yeah, what of it, Stark?”

Tony threw his hands up in surrender. “Hey, don’t get so defensive. I’m happy for you, Terminator. It’s about time.”

James looked at him suspiciously but gave him a small smile after a moment. “Thanks.”

You all walked into a room that looked just like where you had been in the emergency room at Kings County. It smelled like a hospital, too. You sat down on the bed in the middle of the room Bruce gestured to.

“I’m sorry we had to meet like this, Y/N,” Bruce said kindly. “I’ve heard a lot about you from the team and was hoping to meet you at your kiosk.”

“That would’ve been great. But, it would seem life had other plans.” You were trying to stay positive through everything, but there was a part of you deep down that just wanted to break. You wanted to just shut yourself away so you could cry and scream and just get it all out. However, you also knew that it wouldn’t change anything. Besides, you had Buchanan to look after you, now. That did help immensely.

“So, tell me exactly what happened in the shower.” Bruce looked a bit embarrassed but he needed to know so he knew what to look for.

You explained that you had fallen asleep in the tub and awoke from a nightmare thrashing around. He didn’t ask for details about the nightmare, thank goodness. You really couldn’t get through having to say that out loud again.

After using some seriously high tech devices to check your injuries, (you had never seen anything like it.), Bruce had assured you that you didn’t reinjure yourself. He did give you a booster shot to help speed up your recovery. He explained that it was perfectly safe for regular people and superhumans alike. When he gave it to you, it sent a tingling sensation through your whole body. It wasn’t unpleasant, but it was definitely odd.

“Ok, Y/N. You are good to go. By this time next week, you should be healed up due to the shot. Just get plenty of rest.” Bruce smiled at you then furrowed his eyebrows. “Oh, and your appetite will increase quite a bit. It's normal, so don’t worry about it. Your body is going to need the extra calories since you’re healing at a faster rate.”

You stood up from the bed and nodded. “Good to know, Doc. Thank you, again.”

“Oh, don’t mention it. I’m happy to help,” Bruce said.

You looked at James and tilted his head with a smile. He looked at Bruce and nodded in thanks as he grabbed your hand.

“Come on. You need to get some rest.” James led you out of the room.

Tony came around to your side, sandwiching you between the 2 of them. “So, dear. How do you like your new place?”

You beamed. “It’s incredible, Tony. Thank you so much.”

“Sir, Sergeant Barnes. Captain Rogers requests you come immediately to the conference room,” FRIDAY said.

“What does Capsical need now?” Tony asked rolling his eyes.

“It would seem there has been a development on Sandra’s whereabouts,” the A.I. explained.

“About damn time.” Tony looked at James. “Do you want to meet us there after you take Y/N back?”

“It’s fine. I can make it on my own. This is more important,” you insisted.

James looked at you seriously. “Are you sure. I can take you.”

“Sweety, I’m more than capable of getting there on my own. Besides, if I get lost, I’m sure FRIDAY can help. Right?” You looked up.

“You are correct,” she answered.

“Ok, doll.” James smiled at you as the elevator doors opened. You all stepped in and he gave her hand a squeeze as the metal box made its way up. “If you need anything, just let FRIDAY know.”

“I will. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. I’m in the Avengers Tower, after all,” you sang.

The elevator stopped on the floor Steve had gotten off on. Tony stepped out first to give you 2 a moment. He waved with a “See ya later,” as he made his way to the conference room.  

James leaned over and kissed you. “I’ll see you later, doll.”

“See you later, sweety.” You watch him get off the elevator. Before the elevator doors close, he looks back and winks at you. Your heart skipped a beat and you smiled stupidly as the elevator went up to your floor.

You made your way back to your room and decided to check out the kitchen much more thoroughly this time.

⇻⇻⇻⇻⇻⇻⇻⇻⇻⇻⇻⇻⇻⇻⇻⇻⇻⇻⇻⇻⇻⇻⇻

James walked into the conference room after Tony. Sam, Clint, and Natasha were there with Steve.

Steve looked at James. “How’s Y/N?” he asked seriously.

“She’s fine. Banner gave her a booster shot,” said as the door opened to the room again as Bruce made his way in.

Steve looked relieved. “That’s good to hear.” He turned his gaze to the T.V. and went into full Captain America mode. “Fury has located where Sandra is hiding. He sent us these.” He pointed at the screen that was displaying a warehouse. “She's hold up in an abandoned warehouse by the South Brooklyn Marine Terminal. She’s alone from what we can see.  

“Fury has eyes on her so the minute she moves, we’ll know. I don’t want to give her that chance, however. We’ll surround the building and catch her off guard. Tony and Sam will stay in the air and cut off her escape if she gets past us. Nat will take the west side entrance and I’ll take the east. Bucky will come in the front door. Bruce, you’ll be on standby in case things go south. Do not underestimate her. She is faster and stronger than us,” he gestured to himself and James.

“Why is Bucky coming in through the front door?” Clint asked.

“She seems to have some personal vendetta against him. I’m hoping it will distract her long enough for the rest of us to get in position and make our move,” Steve explained.  

“Makes sense,” Clint nodded.

“Now, I’d rather not kill her. At the end of the day, she is a victim of HYDRA. Stark and Banner have developed stronger tranquilizers that should bring her down faster than last time. We’ll use those first.”

“Will SHIELD be in on this, too? James asked.

“They’ll be on standby, also. Their main purpose is to keep an eye on her and make sure she doesn’t escape,” Steve confirmed. “If she gets past us, they have orders to kill on sight. I don’t like it, but it’s not my call from there. That’s Fury’s decision and I understand why he made that call. She’s too dangerous to let roam free.” Everyone seemed to be in agreement. “Alright, if there aren’t any more questions, suit up. Wheels up in an hour.”

⇻⇻⇻⇻⇻⇻⇻⇻⇻⇻⇻⇻⇻⇻⇻⇻⇻⇻⇻⇻⇻⇻⇻

You were in love with the kitchen and everything in it. The fridge, freezer, and cabinets were jam-packed with food. You found machines that you had never even heard of. It was like stepping into wonderland.

Your stomach began to growl and you knew the shot was taking effect. Hmmm, what should I make? You wandered to yourself as you rummaged through the fridge. You found some cut up chicken quarters in the fridge.

You figured you could just season them and throw them in the oven. There were some russet potatoes in a bowl on the counter and a light bulb went off in your head. You’d make baked potatoes on the side with a simple salad. You knew it would be difficult to cut anything up with a broken wrist. You saw there were grape tomatoes in the fridge with baby spinach, so you didn’t have to worry there.

Once you gathered the seasonings and ingredients, you put the oven on and got to work. About a half an hour later there was a knock on your door. You opened it to find James standing there with a small frown.

“Hey, is everything alright?” you asked worriedly.

“Yeah, I just came to check up on you.” He lifted his head up and sniffed the air. “What are you making? It smells delicious.”

You laughed. “Chicken with potatoes. You hungry?”

He smiled sheepishly. “I am, but I can’t. We’re leaving in soon. We’ve found Sandra.”

You nodded understandingly. “That’s good. I wish you had more time. It would’ve been nice to eat with someone.” You looked down, sadness taking over your features.    

James reached his hand out and grabbed your jaw between his thumb and index finger. He gently lifted your face up so he could look into your eyes. “I know, doll. I’d love to sit down and have a meal with you right now. Let us take care of this first and I promise we will.”

You bit your lip and nodded. “I know. I’m sorry-”

“There’s nothing to apologize for. You have every right to feel the way that you do. Once this is over, I’ll make sure you don’t have to feel like this alone. Ok?”

You stared into those intensely blue eyes of his. Sandra was right. He adored you and you read it in his eyes. You grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him to you, crashing your lips into his. You kissed him fervently making sure he knew how much you cared for him.

Finally breaking away to catch your breath, you looked deep into his eyes. “Please, be careful. I’ll be waiting for you so you better come back to me. Ok, Buchanan?”

He felt his heart burst in his chest and warmth flood his veins. The way you were looking at him and what you said made him feel like he could take on the world. It was clear how deeply you cared for him and that was enough to keep him going.

“I’ll come right back to you, Y/N. I promise.” He captured your lips again in a searing kiss. How he wished it didn’t have to end.

Tony, Nat, Clint, Sam and Steve watching James and Y/N kiss on a monitor: Tony: Oh, man they are so in love! Sam: Seriously. When do you think the wedding will be? Nat: Next summer in Central Park. Clint: Yay. (Claps hands together like an idiot.) I can't wait! Steve: Can we give them some privacy?

@babygurl8840

[thinkingaboutyoungroyals]

Who Waits For Love (Chapter 3)

Summary: T.J. Kippen lost his chance to tell Cyrus Goodman how he felt when they were in the 8th grade. Now, they are in their junior year of high school and Cyrus is on his 3rd relationship. Is it time to give up… or continue to wait for love?

A/N: This is so much longer than I thought it was going to be. A lot going on here!

When T.J. pulled up to the Goodman home that morning, the porch steps were empty. Furrowing his brows in confusion, he decided to give it another minute or so. Cyrus was rarely late in the mornings but then again, after everything that happened the day before, T.J. couldn’t blame him if he was a little delayed.

When five minutes passed and the door never opened, T.J. grabbed the bag of chocolate-chocolate chip muffins from the compartment beside him and exited his car. He walked up to the front door and rang the bell.

Cyrus’ mother opened the door. “Oh, good morning, T.J.,” she greeted with a kind smile. “I’m sorry but Cyrus isn’t feeling well enough to go to school today.”

The way she flashed him a knowing look after saying that made T.J. realize that she was aware of what happened.

“He told you?” he asked, hesitantly.

Sighing, she nodded. “Thank you for taking care of him yesterday.”

“Yeah, of course. He’s my best friend.” He looked down at the muffins in his hand before handing them over to her. “Can you give him these? My mom made them last night.”

Dr. Goodman nodded, taking the bag. “Of course. I’ll let him know you stopped by when he wakes up. He went back to sleep.”

“Thank you.”

He gave her a polite nod before turning on his heels to get back to his car.

For the first time since he got his license, he was driving to school alone. The absence of enthusiastic chatter made the silence all the more glaring so he turned up the stereo.

It felt a little strange arriving at school alone and just following the crowd. He had gotten used to Cyrus being next to him. Alone, he went to his locker to grab the things he needed for the day.

“Kippen.”

T.J. froze upon hearing the voice he knew and despised so much. 

Scowling, he turned around to see the brunette Lacrosse player who broke his best friend’s heart standing there. T.J. felt a smidge of satisfaction at seeing a bruise marring the corner of the guy’s lips and a little regret that he didn’t do more than just one punch.

“You got some nerve showing your face to me after what you did,” he spat, making sure to lace his words with poison.

Lance’s confidence faltered before he schooled his features to that of the cocky bastard he was.

“Whatever. Where’s Cyrus? I need to talk to him.”

At that, T.J. barked out a sarcastic laugh. “And you think I’d let him talk to you?”

“Pfft, you’re not his boyfriend, Kippen.”

Low blow, but he didn’t let it bother him.

“Neither are you. At least at the end of the day, I’m still his best friend.” He chuckled without humor. “You think after what you pulled, Cyrus would want to get back with you? You’re over, remember? He said so.”

“I can get him back if I want to,” Lance replied, cockily.

T.J. raised a brow. “Really? You think he’d take you back? A little overconfident there, aren’t we, buddy?”

Lance’s gaze flared. “Look, here, Kippen-.”

“No, you look here, Parker.” Squaring his shoulders and standing tall and intimidating, T.J. took a step forward. “This is what’s going to happen. You’re going to stay away from Cyrus. Don’t look at him. Don’t talk to him. Don’t even think about him. Or so help me, I’m going to make sure you’ll never play another game of Lacrosse again. A shame to miss out on those college scouts, right?”

It was an empty threat. T.J. would never actually hurt him (much). But, his old reputation as a middle school bad boy still preceded him. Not to mention, his height allowed him to tower over the Lacrosse player. 

Lance seemed to have lost all his confidence and swagger from earlier. He knew that T.J. had the physical capabilities to render him unable to play another game. He had proven it the day before.

He scoffed. “Fine. Whatever. Keep him, then.” He looked T.J. up and down, wrinkling his nose. “He was boring, anyway.”

T.J. made to lunge at him in anger, school rules be damned.

“Whoa there, Kippen.”

A hand landed on his shoulder and forcibly pulled him back. He turned his head to see Marty, flashing him a warning look. When T.J. turned back to Lance, the bastard was already walking away.

T.J. shrugged Marty’s hand off. “You shouldn’t have stopped me,” he said, heading back to his locker.

“If I didn’t and you got in trouble for beating him up and Cyrus found out, you know you’d regret it,” Marty replied, harshly.

He was right. Unfortunately.

T.J. just huffed, choosing not to respond. After getting heated from that encounter, he needed to clear his head.

Marty leaned against the locker next to T.J.’s. “How’s Cyrus?” he asked, more gently.

T.J. sighed, shutting his locker and swung his backpack over his shoulder. “Not good. He’s not in today. His mom told me he went back to sleep.”

“He’s really broken up about this, huh?” Marty stated as they began to walk together.

“He got cheated on Marty, of course, he is!”

Marty raised his hands in surrender. “Sorry, I just… they didn’t seem serious. At least, Lance didn’t seem to be.”

“When Cyrus likes someone, he gives it his all. No matter what his relationship with Lance was like, I know he gave it his all. That’s why this is breaking him. That… that bastard doesn’t deserve him.”

“Yeah, I agree.”

They walked in silence for a moment, T.J.’s fury slowly being replaced by worry for Cyrus again. He wondered if he should text him just to check in.

“How are you doing, though?” Marty asked.

“Me? I’m fine. It’s Cyrus who’s hurt, Marty.”

“Yeah… but when Cyrus cries, you’re unfocused until he feels better.”

It was true. He hated whenever Cyrus cried. He wanted to cheer him up until he smiled again. For all of Cyrus’ past breakups, he was there as a shoulder to cry on. But, this time, he knew it would take more than just muffins and a High School Musical marathon to take away the pain.

He sighed. “I don’t know, man. I just… I can’t get his face out of my head. How hurt he was and all I want is to just…”

“Kiss his tears away?” Marty teased.

T.J. glared at him but didn’t deny it because, yes, that was exactly what he wanted to do. All the time.

“All I can do right now is just be there for him, like I always am,” he replied.

“At least now you have a chance with him,” Marty tried to help.

“I… wasn’t even thinking about that. You know, too busy being worried about my best friend while trying to not destroy his asshole of an ex.” They finally reached his homeroom. “Anyway, I’ll text him to ask how he is before the bell rings. I’ll see you, guys, at lunch.”

Marty nodded. “See ya.”

T.J. found his seat and sat down before taking his phone out to text.

Underdog Cyrus: Hey. Just checking in if ur OK. I gave ur mom muffins. Let me know if u want to talk. I’ll come right over. Luv u, underdog.

He felt his lips twitch at the last line. He wasn’t shy about telling Cyrus he loved him, anymore. He just wished he had the guts to tell him how deep that love really went. But, as long as Cyrus was okay, he would do everything in his power to make him happy again.

…….......

Time seemed to drag on the entire day. T.J. had History with Cyrus and he normally enjoyed the class. But, that day, his friend’s absence was felt even more as he didn’t have a seat partner to do the day’s class activity with.

Lunch couldn’t have arrived sooner and when it finally did, he bought his food and made his way to his usual table with the Andi, Buffy, Jonah, and Marty. (Some days, he would sit with the basketball team for socialization purposes, but that day was not one of those days.)

They were already seated and digging into their food when he arrived. Andi, Buffy, and Marty were seated on one side so he slid into the seat next to Jonah across from them. He sadly stared at Cyrus’ empty spot next to him and sighed.

“Did you hear from Cyrus?” Andi asked him.

He nodded. “He texted me around third period. He said he was feeling better but he’ll probably skip school for the rest of the week. Good thing it’s Thursday.” He stirred his bowl of chili. “I brought him muffins this morning. I hope it helps.”

“We should try to see him after school,” said Buffy.

“That’s a good idea, we can bring his homework,” added Jonah.

T.J. groaned in disappointment. “I have basketball practice today.”

Jonah nudged his arm with his elbow and grinned. “Don’t worry, we’ll tell him you miss him.”

T.J. blushed but before he could respond, Andi let out an excited squeal. She was looking at her phone and Buffy leaned over to look.

She snorted. “It’s just Amber,” she said, exaggeratedly rolling her eyes but she was smiling.

“She said she did really well on her Sociology test!” Andi squealed as she enthusiastically texted back. Finishing, she put her phone down and sighed, forlornly. “I miss her.”

Andi and Amber were a surprise to everyone. Last year, Andi realized that she might also like girls… and by girls, she meant one specific girl: Amber. And, apparently, Amber always knew she liked girls and tried to date boys to get rid of those feelings...until she met Andi, that is. They started dating last year and were currently in a long-distance relationship, since Amber was away in California for college. But, they seemed to be holding on pretty well.

T.J. always wondered how Jonah felt about both his exes dating, but he still hung out with both girls whenever he could so he probably got over it.

As they all dug into their lunch, T.J. took a moment to observe everyone around him. At first, he only really hung out with them because of Cyrus. After Reed and Lester pretty much abandoned him back in the 8th grade, he didn’t really have any other real friends.

He wondered...Would he have found another group of friends? Ones who actually liked and supported him?

It took him a long time to gain this group’s trust. And, now, even without Cyrus there, he no longer felt shy and out of place when Andi handed him her box of fries to share or when Buffy stole a piece of grape from his fruit cup.

“What are you smiling about?” Buffy asked with a raised eyebrow.

T.J. realized that he was, chuckled, and shook his head. “Nothing. Now, can you please stop stealing my fruit and start getting your own?”

“Nah, it’s not as fun.” And to demonstrate, she reached over and stole a pineapple.

Yep, these were his friends now. 

He couldn’t help but stare at Cyrus’ empty place again.

He really hoped he was okay.

…….......

Thursday ended and Friday passed. Before he knew it, the weekend had arrived. T.J. went to work Saturday morning and by the time he got off in the afternoon, he still didn’t feel like going home. His mom was working until very late, anyway, so he had the day to himself. So, he drove to Cyrus’ house.

He parked across the street from the driveway and made his way to the backyard. Finding Cyrus’ window, he stood under it as he took out his phone and called him.

It took three rings for Cyrus to answer.

“Hello?” His voice was a little raspy.

“Hey,” T.J. greeted. “How are you feeling?”

“Better, thank you. I didn’t cry today.”

T.J. smiled at that.

“Sorry about yesterday,” Cyrus continued.

T.J. had tried to see him after school the day before but Cyrus had shooed him away, saying that he didn’t want to see anyone. T.J. was a little hurt by that but he knew that his friend was going through something that he couldn’t dare to imagine or understand.

“It’s okay, I get it,” he replied. “Are you okay enough to hang out with me today?”

Cyrus chuckled. “Yeah.”

“Great! Then, come out.”

There was a pause.

“What?”

T.J. smiled to himself as he looked up at the closed window. “I’m outside your window. Come out for a drive. We can go anywhere you want.”

He heard shuffling and kept his eye on the window until it slid up. Cyrus poked his head out and found him fairly quickly.

T.J. waved. “Hey.”

Looking confused yet elated to see him, Cyrus replied, “Hey. Why didn’t you just go through the front door?”

T.J. shrugged. “This is more fun.”

His friend did look better, though his eyes still looked droopy and a bit swollen, probably from all the crying. His hair was a messy mop, like he just got out of bed and didn’t have time to brush it.

“And cheesy. What are you? Romeo?”

He was happy to hear that Cyrus was feeling well enough to joke.

“If I’m Romeo then you’re my Juliet,” T.J. couldn’t resist flirting.

To his delight, Cyrus blushed and lowered his head, shyly.

“So… you wanna drive or what?” T.J. asked.

Up on his window, Cyrus nodded. “Okay. I’ll be down in 10 minutes. Just gotta get changed. Come through the front door, you savage! Mom’s home.”

“Okay, see ya.”

Cyrus waved before shutting his window and hanging up. Meanwhile, T.J. bounded back to the front door, a skip in his steps.

Dr. Goodman let him in with a smile, asking how he was and if he would like something to drink. She settled on an armchair in the living room while T.J. plopped himself on the sofa, making small talk.

There was a moment of brief silence where they could hear Cyrus pottering about upstairs as he got ready.

“Is he really okay?” T.J. had to ask.

Dr. Goodman leaned back in her seat. “Well, it’s the first time in days where he’s willing to leave the house. On Thursday, he just slept all day and only came out of his room when Andi and the others stopped by to drop off his homework. Yesterday, he didn’t leave his room at all and was listening to sad music on full volume. I would have reprimanded him but… well… I think he needed to let his emotions out, one way or another. So… I think he could use a distraction today.”

“I’m hoping to do just that. We’ve been worried.”

Footsteps coming down the stairs silenced them. T.J. turned his head towards it to see Cyrus neatly dressed and his hair now brushed.

He flashed T.J. a faint smile. “Hey,” he greeted.

T.J. stood up. “Hey, ready to go?”

Cyrus nodded.

They bid Dr. Goodman goodbye, promising to be back by dinner, and Cyrus followed him out to his car.

“So, where do you wanna go?” T.J. asked as soon as the doors were closed.

Cyrus shrugged.

“Park?” T.J. suggested. “We can go on the swings.”

“Sure.”

T.J. reached over and ruffled his hair, fondly, before starting the car and driving.

Cyrus was silent during the ride, only staring out the window.

“So, you wanna hear something funny that happened in history class yesterday?” T.J. casually said.

“Sure.”

“So we were watching a documentary on the Great Depression…”

Cyrus hummed to indicate that he was listening.

“… and Mrs. Shapiro fell asleep!”

T.J. flashed him a quick look from the corner of his eye and was pleased to see Cyrus breaking into a small smile and chuckling.

“Of course, she did. She finds her own class boring!”

The mood after that turned lighter, even if Cyrus barely spoke.

They arrived at the park and headed right for the playground where, thankfully, their swings were empty and devoid of children. Cyrus immediately went for his swing, sitting on it, and kicking his legs, silently.

T.J. settled on the one next to him, still watching him.

He didn’t like seeing Cyrus so… devoid of life. He wasn’t like this with his past breakups.

Tommy was more of a friend than a boyfriend and sure, Cyrus had been sad, but it was a mutual split. His feelings for Freddie went deeper but they broke up and made up so much that Cyrus didn’t even cry when he broke up with the drummer for the last time. Lance must have been special.

Not for the first time, T.J. wished it was him, instead. He wouldn’t break Cyrus’ heart the way Lance did.

“Legs go up, legs go down,” T.J. began to sing. “That’s how you make the swing go ‘round.”

Cyrus’ lip twitched.

“Come on,” T.J. prodded. “You gotta sing it, Underdog.”

His friend flashed him a look that asked, “Really?” But, eventually, Cyrus sighed in resignation.

“Drag your feet, you go slow,” he sang. “The more you drag, the less you go.”

Smiling, T.J. sang along with him, kicking his legs into the air, enthusiastically.

The sight of two high school guys sitting on the swings and singing what sounded like a nursery rhyme was probably comical to the outside view. But, T.J. didn’t really care what other people of them thought because Cyrus needed this. He needed to feel and be reminded that things would be okay again.

They rarely went to the swings anymore. High school made sure to get in the way of that. But, the rare times they did, it was always for a good reason. Either they were celebrating something or one of them needed comfort. The swings were always there, waiting for them.

“Remember when we first really talked?” T.J. asked, out of the blue. “It was right here.”

Cyrus chuckled. “I thought you were going to make fun of me.”

“Nah, you were too cute. I couldn’t make fun of that.”

Cyrus blushed. “It’s amazing how much things have changed since then, right? Except for these swings. I’m surprised they haven’t fallen apart yet. Unlike my heart.” He dug his feet into the ground, stopping his swinging, and let out a loud sigh. “I’m sorry for being such a downer.”

T.J. shook his head. “It’s okay. You’re allowed to be.”

“I don’t want to feel this way anymore.” Cyrus’ voice cracked as he spoke. “I want to stop crying. I want this pain here.” He placed a fist against his chest. “To stop. I just… want to move on already.”

“And you will, Cy. I know you will because you always do. You always pick yourself back up.”

Finally, Cyrus turned his head to look at him. “Really? You think so?”

T.J. grinned. “Definitely.”

Cyrus’ smile widened. “Thanks, T.J.”

“Anytime.” T.J. pushed himself off his swing. “I’m in the mood for ice cream. What about you?”

“I’ve eaten so much ice cream in the last three days, I feel like my stomach is gonna pop.”

T.J. raised an eyebrow. “So… yes?”

Cyrus stood up. “Lead the way, basketball guy.”

They bought ice cream from a guy with a cart and sat on a bench to enjoy their treats. T.J. regaled Cyrus with stories of what he missed at school, all the shenanigans of their schoolmates, and how he missed the rare day where the cafeteria served curly fries for Friday lunch. At some point, someone came by, walking their puppy, and it resulted in Cyrus getting on his knees on the asphalt to pat and briefly play with the little critter (T.J. took photos and videos).

By the end of their hangout, the color and vitality were back on Cyrus’ face and he was laughing and bouncing as they made their way back to T.J.’s car.

“Today was fun!” he exclaimed. “And that puppy was so cute! I have got to convince my parents to let me adopt one!”

Meanwhile, T.J. placed the key in the ignition, getting ready to drive Cyrus home.

“Hey, thank you, again.”

He turned to his friend, who was watching him, softly.

“You’ve always been there for me, Teej.”

T.J.’s heart fluttered at the complete faith and trust Cyrus had in him.

“I don’t think there’s anyone else in this world I trust more than you…don’t tell Buffy and Andi I said that.”

T.J. chuckled. “My lips are sealed.”

Cyrus sighed and leaned back in his seat, his smile faltering. “I always thought that… Lance would become someone I could completely trust. I’m kind of glad now that I never introduced him to my parents. Can you imagine the humiliation?” He chuckled, humorlessly before sighing again. “Damn, why do I have such bad tastes in guys?”

T.J.s heart began to quicken. “You just haven’t found the right guy. You never know… he could just be… right around the corner.”

Or right beside you, T.J. wanted to say but kept his mouth shut.

Cyrus huffed. “Where? They should just come out and sweep me off my feet.” He flashed him a grin. “I sound demanding. Sorry.”

T.J. shook his head. “It’s fine.” He paused, a lump forming in his throat as he turned his head to look at the wheel, instead. “Actually… Cyrus…”

“Yes?”

“I… um… if you want, you can…”

Go out with me. Date me. Be my boyfriend.

All those words ran in T.J.’s mind. He wanted to say them so badly.

“I can…what?”

Cyrus sounded like he was anticipating his next words. But, they only made T.J. even more nervous.

Cyrus had always said he was an athlete with boundless confidence but he couldn’t be further from the truth. T.J. was a coward when it came to him.

“You can… skip school on Monday,” he ended up saying, mentally kicking himself. “If you’re not feeling better, you shouldn’t go.”

“Oh. Yeah, I thought about that. But, I already missed two days. I don’t want to miss any more. Besides, I need to show Lance that he didn’t break me.”

T.J. finally chanced a peek at him to see Cyrus looking determined.

“I’m strong, right?” he asked, almost tentatively.

Feeling a little brave, T.J. reached out and placed a hand over his. “Very,” he agreed, squeezing his hand before pulling back. “So… ready to go home?”

Smiling, Cyrus nodded.

The drive back to the Goodman home was still silent but it lacked the tense atmosphere of earlier. Cyrus was feeling okay and relaxed enough to turn on the stereo and sing along to a few songs.

Meanwhile, T.J. was in turmoil, mentally scolding himself for being a coward. But, then he reasoned that Cyrus just got out of a relationship and probably wasn’t ready for a new one right off the bat. Besides, he didn’t want Cyrus to go out with him just because he was heartbroken. He wanted Cyrus to go out with him because he wanted to.

He pulled up to the house and parked. It was late afternoon now but he managed to bring Cyrus home before dinner so that earned him brownie points with the Goodmans.

“See you Monday?” Cyrus asked.

He nodded. “Monday.”

Cyrus leaned over and wrapped his arms around his neck and T.J. instinctively brought his own arms up, wrapping around his waist.

“You’re my best friend, Teej.”

T.J. swallowed. “You’re mine too, Cy.”

They hugged for a beat or two before pulling away and Cyrus got out of the car.

T.J. waited until he was inside the house. When the door shut closed, he let out a loud groan, leaning back on his seat, head hitting the headrest.

“I’m an idiot.”

…….......

“You’re an idiot!”

“I know!”

“You said he can skip school on Monday?!”

“It wasn’t my brightest moment, I know!”

Huffing, Marty dropped himself on the bed next to T.J. “He was practically giving you an open invitation to ask him out!”

“I highly doubt it’s that.”

“Dude, you are hopeless.”

T.J. snorted. “Don’t I know it.”

After dropping Cyrus off, T.J. had the bright idea of texting Marty and coming over to his house to rant.

He wasn’t sure if it was a bright idea anymore. Marty just kept on going about how he missed an opportunity to finally make his move.

As they both stared forlornly at the ceiling, the door opened.

“And this is why your moms think I’m some sort of cover-up for your secret relationship with T.J.”

Both boys looked up to see Buffy standing by the door, arms crossed and eyebrows raised.

“Yeah, babe, we’re totally in love,” said Marty as he sat up and opened his arms invitingly.

Buffy rolled her eyes but nonetheless, walked over and plopped herself onto Marty’s lap. Meanwhile, T.J. continued to lie on Marty’s bed.

“So, what’s going on?” she asked.

This allowed T.J. to relay the story again, complete with arm gestures and his inner thoughts of the moment sprinkled in. Buffy listened, nodding or rolling her eyes in response to his narration.

When he was done, she was shaking her head.

“I agree that maybe asking him out right in this moment is a little… inappropriate,” she said, carefully.

“Ha!” T.J. blurted out, pointing at Marty. “I told you.”

“But!” Buffy continued, flashing him a pointed look. “You also shouldn’t waste time like you did after Tommy and Freddie. You’ve been crushing on Cyrus for years, T.J.! You’re a better choice than all of his previous boyfriends! And that’s saying a lot coming from me! So, why don't you just make a move?!”

Yes. Why didn’t he? Ever since 7th grade, there had always been this strange… pull… between him and Cyrus. He never understood what it was. He just knew that he liked him. A lot. Between then and now, he could even say that he had fallen in love. Hard. 

“I’m… scared of losing him,” he replied, softly as he stared at the ceiling. “I should probably just give up. You know how relationships go. Honeymoon stage. Then, you get comfortable. Then, you realize you don’t have feelings anymore. Then, you break up and never talk again. I can’t… I can’t handle it if Cyrus and I stopped talking.”

Buffy and Marty were both watching him now, sympathetic to his plight.

“Is that what you really believe would happen to you, guys?” Buffy asked, gently. “Your entire friendship is not that shallow, T.J.”

“I know… it’s just… I’d rather have him as just a friend and not lose him than go out with him and have things go wrong.” 

He let out a loud and long sigh.

“T.J.-,” Marty began.

“Guys.” He sat up and leaned against the headboard. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.” He managed a smile at them. “And, I’m not going to give up. I’m just… going to let him heal a bit. You know, get rid of all the Lance pain before I swoop in and put his heart back together. That’s a plan, right?”

He sounded confident on the inside but on the inside, his hope felt like a dry desert.

And judging by the looks the couple were throwing him, they weren’t buying it either.

It was worth a shot.

…….......

True to his word, that Monday, T.J. picked up Cyrus for school and he was waiting for him on the doorstep.

The drive was normal with Cyrus chattering, T.J. listening, and the two of them play fighting over who got to choose the next song that played.

This time, Cyrus didn’t leave his side to greet a boyfriend but simply to go to his own locker.

“Are you gonna be okay when…. You know…. When you see him?” he had to ask.

He didn’t have to say a name but Cyrus stiffened before loosening himself up and nodding. “I’ll be fine,” he replied. “Don’t worry. See you at lunch?”

“Yeah.”

With a smile, Cyrus bid him goodbye and bounded off.

T.J. went about his morning routine of being greeted by Marty, walking to homeroom, and settling in his seat to wait for the morning announcements and other stuff to start.

The announcements were a blur – updates on school events, wins and losses of their sports teams, and what they were serving in the cafeteria that week.

T.J. doodled on his notebook, bored.

Finally, announcements were done and they had a full fifteen minutes to do homework, study, or chat before the first bell.

And, then, the door opened. Everyone in class, including T.J., looked up to see the Vice Principal entering with a guy in tow. He was tall with distinguished curly brown hair and really thick eyebrows (that reminded T.J. a bit of Cyrus’ eyebrows, they were really cute).

The Vice Principal briefly spoke to Mr. Singh, T.J.’s homeroom teacher, before clapping the new guy on the back and leaving.

“Okay, kids! Eyes up here!” Mr. Singh called out, but everyone already had their attention on him, anyway. “We have a new student joining our homeroom. Please introduce yourself to your classmates.”

The guy grinned and lifted a hand in greeting. “Hi, everyone. Name’s Aidan. Aidan Ross. Moved here from Florida.”

From sunny Florida to breezy Shadyside? Quite a change.

“Okay, Aidan, there’s an empty seat right there by the window.”

The rest of the class murmured to each other and themselves as they watched the new guy make his way down the aisle. By this time, T.J. went back to his doodling, no longer interested.

“Hey.”

He raised his head to see the new guy in front of him, still grinning.

Oh, right. There was an empty seat next to T.J. right by the window.

“Um, hey,” T.J. greeted back, politely.

The new guy held out a hand. “I’m Aidan.”

T.J. knew that already, he was just introduced.

Nonetheless, he took the hand and shook it. “T.J.,” he provided.

Aidan squeezed his hand. “Nice to meet you.” He let go before proceeding to the seat next to T.J.

Confused, T.J. managed a, “Um… you too.”

That was odd.

A/N: So, I imagined this guy to be... Joshua Bassett. I just really adore his friendship with Luke and while I was setting the story up, his face popped into my head so... here he is! I even used his character name from “Stuck In A Middle”. (Super creative, I know. But I do like the name.)

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[abundantchewtoys]

HS Epilogues, Meat p26 reaction

Well, we unexpectedly went on a little hiatus there, in our liveblogging. It's just one of those things you got to find time for doing, you know?

So, last time in Homestuck Epilogues, Dirk was present for Rose's ascension into omniscience. Although he did state he still had a manner of control over her, and was going to do something to anchor her to her living body. So, you know, they're not on equal footing just yet, in part because Dirk hasn't relinquished control of the narration to her.

I hope the POV switches to John again, but since we just had a page from his perspective, it might be going back to Kanaya? Or Roxy, but Dirk might not want to spent more time around her "unfathomable" mind than is necessary for the plot to advance. It's not something you'd relish, as a supposedly omniscient narrator.

---

"Jade kicks her shoeless feet behind her slowly, as if she’s swimming with the current of the gravitational waves pulling her ever closer to their source." Oh! I didn't think we'd see her again, at least in the Furthest Ring. Thought the Black Hole had already swallowed her up. Though maybe as a Space player, and one with a connection to a seven-year-more-experienced version of herself located outside of canon and thus with more guaranteed conditional immortality than normal, she might be able to... resist getting thorn to pieces, as she crosses the event horizon? Unlike, presumably, every other being sucked into this thing.

"the ruby slippers are gone. She kicked them off hours ago, as if to jettison all hope of returning anywhere resembling a place she used to call home. The fond remembrance of such a place no longer has any pull on her.

Now, something else entirely is pulling her." Welp, guess the Black Hole is kind of hypnotic, ain't it? Or maybe it's Alt Calliope's strong personality.

"Believe me, I’m sympathetic to the temptation. It’s always just there, isn’t it?" To jump into the void? I don't think it's ALWAYS there for everyone Dirk, but thanks for the unique perspective into how your mind functions.

"There’s something about being alone for so long, it makes time feel like it doesn’t exist. She knows this almost better than I do." ... Yes, well, Lonely Jade did, and it seems as if she might have taken over, or melded with, Reload Jade? So yeah, her three years of isolation would indeed have given her some inkling of the feeling of loneliness that Dirk and the cherubs must have experienced, being physically alone all their life. ... Right, of course her childhood on Hellmurder Island would have also done that regardless.

"Jade also knows well enough by now that time doesn’t actually exist in a literal sense, the way we generally understand it. It’s just one aspect of many, and the complement of her own, Space. It therefore can be neutralized by the introduction of her essence. Reduced to white noise or soft light. The continuum of time is therefore demonstrably an illusion. The field of sequential moments and physical conditions that stretch on and on, resulting in the mirage of loneliness, is pure projection from disproportionate attention given to a single side of one cosmic, polar pair of ideas: time." Ah yes, aspect exposition time! To quote the swamp bender: "Time is an illusion", huh? We're going that route? Well, sure, but for most people a rather convincing one, no matter what your Aspect is. Though it would be interesting to see what "disproportionate attention" given to Space would result in... Despite a ravenous Black Hole consuming an entire realm, I guess.

"It’s my way of saying, and thereby alerting her mind to what she already knows, that this feeling of all-consuming solitude and despair haunting her since childhood—it’s in her head." Like, I can only root for Dirk in trying to save Jade from whatever Calliope has cooked up, but he's still manipulating her for his own purposes.

"The ticking of time is a little contrivance in her mind as a byproduct of imbalance, of the vast disparity between her limited self and her Ultimate Self." So, what, his past is as real to Dirk right now as his present and future?

"It lives rent free there the way Dave once did, and for this version of Jade, probably still does." Funny how that points to this still being Reload Jade more than post-canon Jade.

"Maybe Dave broke her heart a little, and he keeps doing it too, no matter how many different timelines they try out." Okay, see? This applies to post-canon Jade! It seems to swing around from moment to moment, the direction the narration points into. Though, I guess post-canon Jade might really benefit from absorbing her pre-retcon selves memories regarding her relationship with Davesprite, to assess how to go about handling Dave on Earth C.

"She slips closer to the event horizon, still making no effort to impede her descent. My persuasion skills are admittedly a little rusty. Bear with me here." So very rusty, so very unused recently. :P But yeah, she's different from Rose AND John, so he'll need a different approach.

"In my experience, there’s something about being alone that can take a person’s limited meat-engine and make it imagine that it can see beyond the confines of its own electrical processes. Make it believe that it is ascending to a place where it can see the four dimensions spread out beneath it like a set of windows." Is he... paraphrasing Jade's current mindset? Or his own, isolated on B2 Earth? Sounds also as if he's describing a medidative monk, kind of.

"Like sheet music. Like a garden, where Jade used to spend so much of her time with her hands in the earth and her head in the clouds, dreaming about flowers that bloomed in six colors and grew when she played them a song. Was that real? It’s hard to tell. But it made her happy, didn’t it?

Isn’t that what she needs now?" Ooh, so he's trying to persuade her to turn around by getting inside her head and trying to figure out what made her most happy. Being omniscient, he might just have a hard time distinguishing the important bits from the trash? He seemed to describe it in such a way, as if Jade might sometimes have been daydreaming in a way it overlapped with dreaming on Prospit! And so, she might have created a space for her dreamself that didn't stick to the confines of the dreamroom.

"Isn’t it reasonable to presume that’s the only thing capable of persuading her to slow her descent—to being invited to imagine, fake or otherwise, that which once made her happy? That which could still make her happy, if only she’d slow down, think about it, and do whatever is necessary to place herself in those surroundings again?" So, he's trying to shake her out of it by thinking happy thoughts. :P

"It’s possible that manning the other end of a suicide hotline, transmitted through pure thought in a metatextual format, may not actually be my true calling." (He actually kind of sucks at this.)

"I’m doing my goddamned best here. She just isn’t slowing down, for some incomprehensible reason." So, uh, what's stopping you from pulling a John and just, like forcefully move her thoughts to where you want them?

"Perhaps my touch is too soft. It wouldn’t be the first time." Said no one ever that ever knew you. :P

"Perhaps the limits of persuasion itself are being tested by the most powerful gravitational force to ever exist?" Now that'd be something! That a pure manifestation of an Aspect could overcome narrators of omniscient inclination.

"Or perhaps it’s true that insistence is just the more effective half of persuasion.

So I’m insisting now." Took him long enough.

"Jade Harley will not go into that hole. She does NOT want us to all to see what happens when she unsettles the spirit residing there." So Dirk also seems to be convinced she's survive? Or maybe he thinks that, adding her to the matter inside the Black Hole, would upset some kind of balance.

Basically, he's like: "No, Alice, don't go into the rabbit hole!" and "No, Dorothy, don't look behind the green curtain at the wizard residing there!"

"she does, though." OOOOOOoooooohhhhhh!!!! Battle of the narrators!

Guess Alt Calliope's eon-long isolation, coupled with her Spacey thing, gave her the same powers as Dirk's. So that answers the question whether ghosts can grow into an Ultimate Self! It has interesting implications regarding Aranea and (Vriska), for one!

"Fucking yikes.

Jade throws on the brakes. I say she does. But by now, the gravity is overwhelming. Is she even trying to resist, or is it just that it’s useless to try? I’m not... I’m not sure I can tell?" Wow, yeah, so here we see what happens when Dirk encounters another narrative force of equal or greater power. He loses the ability to discern everything. But Alt Calliope remains eerily silent, only 2 comments from her so far.

"Jade realizes, preferably before it’s too late, that this is fucking serious. She needs to turn this around. She doesn’t want this. She doesn’t want to die.

she wants to return to me." ...? Eh? Does Alt Calliope see herself as THE Self now, devouring all other beings into some sort of hivemind gestalt? Or does she refer to the time Jade (either version) spent with Calliope (either version)? Seems a bit stupid if she'd mean that. On the other hand, it might be a childish response, a desire for affection so deeply rooted into the main Calliope, that Alt Calliope during her ascension absorbed it.

"All right, I’m done messing around.

YOUR name is Jade Harley. YOU decide, right now, that you do not want to die. You resist the pull of the black hole with all your might. What would killing yourself accomplish? Sure, most of your friends are dead. But John is still looking for you. Do you want to let him down? Do you want to crush his soul? Do you have any appreciation for what he’s going through, Jade? He can take you home. To your new home, Earth C. The home I made for you, Jade. Your friends are all there, alive and well. Rose, Dave, Karkat, slutty adult Jade, Jane, Jake, Roxy, me. You wouldn’t want to disappoint them. You wouldn’t want to disappoint me, would you, Jade?" Well then!! Pffff, I didn't think a Strider could ever evocate "Stern Fatherly Disapproval" like Dad Egbert/Crocker can, but here we are. Let's just skim the implications of taking a teen Jade back to Earth C to live with adult versions of her friends, as well as Dirk's less than gentle tone here, and agree that her survival is definitely desirable, just cuz IT'S ABOUT HER, SURVIVING.

Still, you have to wonder what Dirk's ultimate plans for her are. I'm starting to doubt he'll be successful, though.

"You’re close now, to the ceiling of the cancerous deformity. Too close. Just skimming the edge of this thing’s vicious horizon." It's like he's describing the event horizon as a quantum vacuum decay, which for all we know in science, it just might be.

"You dip your toes through the place where the singularity is snapping everything apart at the seams. It’s so loud that it’s completely silent. You can already feel yourself stretched thin, distorted, pulled out with your descent elongated for all eternity." I suppose there's no one suited for pulling her out at the last second, is there? No chance for Davepeta to make a last-moment re-entry into the epilogues.

Blaperile points out something significant to me: Dirk has attributed Jade the "you"-ness factor! It would be cool to have Jade come on par with John in the epilogues, but I doubt it'll last past this page.

"When you look down, the stripes of your witchy tights go on and on for miles. Please, Jade. Don’t ever say I didn’t try to stop this.

she closes her eyes and lets go." Is... Alt Calliope going to take over the narration for a bit here, on the next page?

We have three potential candidates for taking up narration at this point - and no sight of Andrew Hussie, the author avatar, who could have been a fourth.

Welp. Now Jade's really gone. I have to wonder what this means for post-canon Jade, who fell unconscious with the sight of the Black Hole seared into her eyes. It can't have been a pleasant thing that happened to her, there. I just hope Alt Calliope hasn't taken over her body like a true puppeteer, giving Dirk a run for his money.

[carrotsofavonlea]

Equals

AO3

Anne and Diana want to attend Josephine Barry’s annual party, but without a male to escort them it seems their dreams are dead.

Aunt Josephine’s was a place where people of all kind gathered together to simply celebrate life and indulge in who they truly were.

It was the occasion Anne longed for every year, something to keep the joy and bring warmth to the cold Canadian winters.

But Marilla was still skeptical to let her go alone.

“But Diana and I have been before.” She pleaded, going so far as to fall to her knees before Marilla’s chair. “You didn’t have a problem with it lastyear.”

“If I recall,” Marilla looked up from her needle point, removing her reading glasses from the end of her nose. “Last year you had a male escort.”

Anne stood up sharply. “Oh Marilla aren’t we passed those days where we can’t go anywhere without a boy?”

“It’s for my peace of mind Anne. Two young girls shouldn’t take such a journey by themselves. I couldn’t bare it if…” she trailed off and took a deep breath, calming herself. “I couldn’t bare it if something happened to you. Or Diana for that matter.”

“But Cole will be there. Just not travelling with us.”

“Anne, unless you find a suitable means of travel, I am going to have to refuse to permit you to attend. I still think you’re far too young to be attending in the first place.”

“I don’t understand it Diana.” Anne sighed, their arms linked in their usual fashion as they walked along the path to school. “We’re 15, we should be allowed to travel by ourselves.”

“My mother would never approve. She says her and father won’t be in attendance either, he is far too busy with work. My belief is that he just does not want to go and therefore comes up with excuses.” Diana always seemed so willing to accept what she was told, and whilst Anne loved her dearly, it could be rather troublesome when trying to plot adventures.

“You could always ask Jerry?” Diana said slowly, and Anne immediately wrinkled her nose at the prospect. Jerry?

“Jerry would only make fun. Besides, he’s needed around Green Gables, there’s no way Marilla or Matthew for that matter would let him go.”

“Matthew perhaps?”

“Diana, I love Matthew with all my heart.” Anne said, “but he would rather die that attend a party, let alone one as extravagant as Aunt Josephine’s.”

The girls tried all their best to come up with potential escorts, even so far as to suggest Moody Spurgeon, but none seemed right.

“You know who that leaves.” A small smile spread across Diana’s lips. They had just reached the school house and she knelt down to place her milk in the cold stream.

Anne glanced through the dirty window, just able to make out the faint shape hunched over a book.

“No. No way. Diana you’re positively insane!” Anne shook her head sharply.

Diana grabbed both her wrists, “Anne, you’re the one being completely insane.”

Anne would be lying if she said the thought of Gilbert escorting her didn’t immediately pop into her head, especially after the whole incident at Mary and Bash’s wedding. Something had changed that day, the way Gilbert had looked at her…not to mention how he’d been the one to bring up Miss Stacy’s “tragical romance”.

She put it down to simply the romantic air from the wedding that she’d felt an odd fluttering in her stomach when he’d smiled at her like that. She was just overwhelmed with the romance and wasn’t thinking clearly. She cursed herself for thinking such romantic thoughts about Gilbert Blythe no less.

So the best thing was to deny to herself that she’d ever thought them, and so far she’d done a good job at that. Until Diana had to bring it up.

“He would never agree to it anyway so there’s no point in asking.” Anne whispered as they hung up their hats and coats.

“You know he has a crush on you.”

“Why does everyone keep saying that!” Anne marched past Diana, head held high. “First Cole and now you.”

She sat at her desk, purposely turning her back to Gilbert. Diana sat next to her, casting her own glance towards the boy in question. He had looked up when Anne walked by, a flicker of a smile on his face. Diana had known Gilbert a long time, even if they weren’t exactly friends, but she knew he hadn’t ever smiled like that until Anne had arrived in Avonlea.

“I’ll just have to kiss my dreams of attending the party goodbye. My life is a perfect graveyard of buried hopes.”

“Oh would you stop being so dramatic Anne Shirley.” Diana folded her arms. “Gilbert is your friend and he would gladly say yes.”

“Well, I won’t be asking him. So it doesn’t matter. We’ll find another way to attend.”

“Anne, Gilbert.” Miss Stacy called them up to her desk while the other children were filing out for the end of the day. “I wanted to talk about you furthering your studies since the Queens entrance exams will be soon.”

Anne looked over her shoulder at Diana but she mouthed something Anne couldn’t understand and skipped out of the school building with Ruby.

Miss Stacy kept Anne and Gilbert an extra hour, and whilst Anne was ecstatic to get further ahead, a part of her resented the fact she had to spend a whole extra hour alone with Gilbert.

She found herself looking at him instead of her book, which was unusual because normally nothing could interest her more if she had a book in her hand. But she just couldn’t help herself, he was stood at the chalkboard, writing out some complicated equations that looked more like an old ancient wizard language than anything to do with mathematics.

Miss Stacy was explaining something as he wrote, but Anne noted how tall he seemed compared to the teacher. Anne found she’d read the same sentence about five times and had to put a hand up inconspicuously so as to block out Gilbert.

It was certainly no secret that he’d grown more handsome, and she refused to let her reputation of rivals disappear because of it. No matter how tragically handsome he was. She wouldn’t let her foolish emotions stop her from beating him fair and square.

Anne was determined to get out of the school before Gilbert, but his stupid long legs caught up quickly to her. He practically sprinted to open the door for her and Miss Stacy.

“I’ll walk you home?” He offered.

Anne nodded, after all they were friends weren’t they? And outside the classroom there was no need for rivalry.

“Pardon my asking,” Gilbert said finally, breaking the silence they’d been waking in. They’d just reached the edge of the field. “But is everything ok between you and Diana. I just…saw you arguing earlier.”

Anne laughed, shaking her head. “No, Diana and I are wonderful. We were just upset because we can’t attend Josephine Barry’s party this year.”

“Why not?”

“Because we didn’t have an escort. Which is ridiculous might I add because we’re 15 and capable of attending something without a man present.”

“Of course.” Gilbert nodded, a smile forming on his lips.

While others would criticise Anne for speaking so much, Gilbert would beg to differ. She was passionate, actually cared about things unlike most people in this town. It felt like the town was trapped in time, unable to see things differently. But that wasn’t Anne. She was slowly trying to unfreeze that town, and Gilbert would gladly let her.

“But obviously I want to go. How could I not when last year I had the most scrumptious time.” She closed her eyes and placed her hands over her heart.

Anne stopped walking and looked up at Gilbert, he stopped too. She hadn’t realised she’d done it but now they were just looking at each other and she knew she had to say it.

Just ask him. And if he says no - which he most certainly will - it’ll be fine. You’ve faced more embarrassing and simply mortifying situations before. She tried to reassure herself that worst case scenario was just another embarrassment to add to her lifetime list of woes.

He watched her, trying to read her expression as she moved her lips silently. Like she couldn’t decide whether to say what was playing in her mind.

He had that confused look on his face, another look reserved only for the likes of Anne Shirley Cuthbert and how she both fascinated and mystified him.

“Perhaps, you would also like to attend?” She awkwardly played with the strap of her school books. “Uh, Diana will be there. And Cole. And the food is most divine and I’m sure we could pay you for the inconvenience and-” she started talking quickly, trying to make it clear that it wouldn’t be just them, not like she was asking him to privately accompany her.

“I’d be honoured. And payment will not be necessary. You’re company will be enough.” he chuckled. Then he quickly added, “As well as Diana and Cole of course.”

“Of course.” She smiled back, ignoring the light feeling in her stomach and began to walk again.

They’d taken the train to Charlottetown, Cole gladly meeting them at the station.

“Cole!” Anne ran into his arms and the two friends embraced. “How are you?”

“I’m better than I’ve ever been, I can be myself.” Cole even looked better, happier. Like a weight had been lifted from him after so many years.

“You’re kindred spirits.” Anne smiled, glad Cole finally found a place where he belongs.

Cole hugged Diana, and gave Gilbert a handshake.

“Still don’t believe me that he has a crush on you?” He whispered to Anne when Gilbert and Diana had begun to exit the station.

“What?”

“You even brought him with you.” Cole couldn’t believe how bad Anne was at lying. “Looks like you feel the same.”

Anne rolled her eyes and playfully nudged him. “We’re friends. He’s just here because we didn’t have another male escort now you’re here.”

“Uh huh.” Cole have her a smug smile. “Keep telling yourself that.”

When they arrived at Aunt Josephine’s house, Gilbert was simply awestruck. The last time he saw such colours he was in Trinidad with Bash. It brought back those memories and he smiled to himself. But his gaze was soon captured by Anne.

Her eyes lit up at all the exquisite colours, turning around and around to get every inch of the room as if her eyes couldn’t capture it all quick enough.

Cole cleared his throat and Gilbert blinked, pulling his eyes away. “Huh?”

“I said, I’ll show you to your room Gilbert.” Cole had to hold back the laughter as he gave Gilbert a small tour of the house, leading him to one of the spare rooms.

Diana and Anne were shown to their own room and began helping each other get ready for the party. Anne had a new dress that Matthew had gotten her for her 15th birthday. This time it was blue, and it was simply the most beautiful dress Anne had ever seen.

Diana agreed how well it complimented her hair, especially now it was a darker red. Instead of braids, Diana helped Anne tie a single ribbon in her hair.

When they opened the door, Gilbert and Cole were waiting for them dressed in their smartest suits. One of the benefits of living with Josephine Barry was that she insisted on Cole having a decent suit, and therefore he too got to experience the luxury of fine clothing.

When Gilbert saw Anne, his eyes widened before crinkling into that reserved-for-Anne smile. Cole already extended his arm to Diana to enter the ballroom, both giggling to each other as they did so, leaving Gilbert to offer his arm to Anne.

She hesitantly slipped her arm into his and they entered the party. Gilbert never took his eyes off Anne, especially not when she gasped lightly at the room lit up in all its glory.

He couldn’t hold back the smile.

Anne grabbed Diana by the hand and the girls laughed as they twirled around the dance floor.

Gilbert stood to the side, content to just watch Anne. She’d always had his attention, but even in a room full of people, it was as if she were the only one.

Josephine came up behind Gilbert, noticing how he was watching Anne.

"Anne is special isn't she? I haven't met someone like her in years."

“She’s passionate alright.” Gilbert chuckled to himself. “She hit me over the head with a slate once.” He touched the part of his head where there had once been a temporary lump from that incident.

“Good heavens.” Josephine laughed. “Whatever for?”

“I called her carrots.” Gilbert felt bad about it still, wishing he’d made a better first impression. But now they were friends at least.

“That’s no way to gain a lady’s affections.” Josephine raised her glass to her lips.

“No, it wasn’t.” Gilbert admitted. “We have a rivalry at school, trying to beat each other.”

“Reminds me of my Gertrude.” Josephine smiled sadly. “She was always reading over my shoulder, accidentally spoiling the ends of my stories. She drove me mad. But she was my best friend. Greatest loves always are between best friends, don’t you think?”

Gilbert considered her for a moment, before smiling. He didn’t think he was in love with Anne, but maybe one day… “I say I’d agree.”

“Well,” Josephine nodded to him, “I better go socialise. Gertrude always was better at it then I was. Have a good evening Mr Blythe.”

“You know,” Cole once again crept up on Gilbert. “Anne has a crush on you.”

“She doesn’t.” Gilbert smiled sadly. “She only just about sees me as a friend.”

“You two are unbelievable.” Cole sighed.

Josephine gave a speech later on in the evening, Gilbert very aware of how the crowd of people meant his arm was pressing against Anne’s. He couldn’t concentrate on what was being said, mind focused on the fact that his hand was very, very close to Anne’s. If he just moved his hand a tiny bit, they would make contact. But he did not have the courage to even dare. Instead he froze and tried to look like he was paying attention.

He caught himself in time to hear something about life being too short, to grab love when you can find it.

When the crowd cheered, he took a deep breath and composed himself.

Diana grabbed Cole by the arm and dragged him to the dancefloor.

Gilbert and Anne stood in silence watching their two friends, but it was unbearable.

“Are you having fun?” Anne quickly said, trying to break the awkward tension.

“Very much. Thank you for asking me to accompany you.” Gilbert was looking ahead at the crowds of people dancing. “It’s so vibrant.”

“I love these parties.” Anne smiled, unable to help herself from looking all around again, even though she had been doing that all evening. “I hope to able to throw some like this myself one day.”

“Follow where you passions lead you.” Gilbert tilted his head at her, repeating the phrase she’d once said to him.

“Oh, I almost forgot! Wait here.” She hurried away, only to return a few moments later with something behind her back. “Close your eyes.”

He obediently followed her instructions and closed his eyes. For some reason he felt his chest tighten, he could feel Anne had stepped closer to him. He almost held his breath.

Gilbert felt something on his head and he opened his eyes to see Anne had a wreath of flowers on her head.

“What?” He laughed and felt a similar wreath on his own head. “Flowers?”

“Everyone wears them. I just thought…” she seemed embarrassed almost, an expression Gilbert hadn’t really seen before crossed her face.

“Well, thank you.” He grinned cheerfully. “I feel positively pretty.”

They watched the couples dancing for a few moments, before Gilbert mustered up the courage to ask what had been on his mind the entire time.

He turned himself to fully face her, “Would you care to dance, miss?”

He bowed dramatically and held out his hand, a playful smile on his face.

She curtsied just as dramatically, and hesitantly took his outstretched hand. Only Gilbert ever seemed to call her “miss”. She knew he was only playing at being polite, but it was nice to think that someone at least thought she was worthy of being called miss.

Anne placed on hand on his shoulder an the other in his other hand. He placed his free hand on her waist. The song was fairly fast paced, so they almost skipped around the room in time with the other dancers.

He spun then around and she couldn’t hold back the smile. It was fun, dancing like this. Like friends. No rivalry just companionship.

They held each other’s gaze as they danced before the music changed, this time a much slower song.

Gilbert and Anne awkwardly looked around the room but everyone was now dancing much closer to each other.

Gilbert slowly pulled Anne a little closer to him, and they waltz slowly in time to everyone else.

“I never knew you could dance.” Anne looked up at him as they danced, deciding talking would make this less awkward.

“Looks like I’ll have to practice to be able to catch up.”

“Must everything be a competition between us?” Gilbert’s smile faded. “We have fun don’t we?”

“Sure we do, but that’s just how we work.” Her forehead creased. “I thought you liked the rivalry.”

“Only because you insist on it. I wanted to be equals.” Gilbert’s words ringed in her ears. Wasn’t she always the one talking about how she thought partners should be equal?

“Equals?”

“Well, yeah.” He smiled softly. “I’ve always seen you as my equal. Never anything less.”

“Then I propose this rivalry come to an end?”

“Equals?” Gilbert raised an eyebrow.

“Equals.” Anne nodded.

She suddenly squinted her face, looking down at the floor. “Uh, you remember how I said I wanted the tragical romance?”

“Yeah?” Gilbert looked down at her but she wouldn’t meet his gaze.

“I decided that I don’t want a tragical romance. I want a happy one, a fulfilling one where we’re equals in both love and friendship. Not full of heartbreak, but full of laughter. Is that foolish of me to believe it could happen?”

He shook his head in mirth. “I think it’s very much possible.”

He held her gaze so intently, and she could have sworn she felt him squeeze her hand a little, sending a bolt of lightning through her.

She always dreamed of some romantic epiphany, like she’d read in so many books. Of course she never really expected to have herself. But that smile and the way his hand felt against hers, how she felt with his arms around her…maybe this was her romantic epiphany.

The party had been a huge success, but Anne was glad to be back home to Marilla and Matthew. She told them all about Josephine’s speech, and how she’d received many compliments on her new dress. Marilla called her vain, but she was secretly happy for Anne that she had received so many compliments.

Anne wouldn’t stop talking with Diana about the party on the walk to school. They tried not to speak too much around the other girls, out of fear of hurting their feeling that they were not invited. But all day Anne could have sworn she saw Gilbert glancing over at her from his desk.

There was an unspoken tension between them during their extra tutorial with Miss Stacy after class. If she noticed something was different she didn’t say it, but there was no denying that the two were a lot less competitive and more supportive of one another.

As had become their routine, Gilbert offered to walk Anne home after class.

“I wanted to thank you Gilbert.” Anne said when they’d gotten out of earshot of the schoolhouse. “For coming with us the other day.

“It was no trouble at all. I had a good time.” He truly meant it. “It should be me thanking you.”

“Perhaps Bash and Mary would like to attend next year, I know Ms Barry wouldn’t mind at all to have extra guests.”

Gilbert laughed, “I don’t know if it’s really Bash’s thing. But maybe I could convince him.”

They had an equal pace, steadily making a way through the trees.

“If… if you ever need another escort to something,” Gilbert hesitantly glanced at her, unsure if he was about to cross a boundary. “You know I’m always here for you. It’d be an honour to escort Avonlea’s finest to a social event.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you.” She felt a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

Green Gables finally came into view, and Anne stopped walking.

“I’ll be alright from here.”

“You sure? It’s no problem to walk you to your door. I’d hate for you to think I’m not a gentleman.” He looked mock offended.

She laughed a little, but shook her head. “I don’t think there are any dragons that need slaying.”

He looked at the ground, both remembering their first interaction.

She quickly grabbed his arm and placed a blink and you’ll miss it kiss on his cheek, before running off through to the gate.

Gilbert stood, dumbstruck as he watched her run. His cheek where she’d kissed it, burning. He placed a hand on his cheek and smiled to himself.

He didn’t think he ever could be her equal now. She had a hold of him and he’d only recently begun to accept it. But now he realised he was fully under her spell, no hope of ever freeing himself. No doubt about it, Anne Shirley Cuthbert would be the death of him.

[wincestisasincest]

Murder in the Blue Morgue -- Part 5

Trigger Warning: Death

With a warning like that, how can you not click on this?

Last part I’m posting for tonight, and be on lookout for a masterlist.

First chapter: https://twincestforthewincest.tumblr.com/post/181730682110/murder-in-the-blue-morgue-part-1

Second chapter: https://twincestforthewincest.tumblr.com/post/181756574650/murder-in-the-blue-morgue-part-2

Third chapter: https://twincestforthewincest.tumblr.com/post/181756696770/murder-in-the-blue-morgue-part-3

Fourth chapter: https://twincestforthewincest.tumblr.com/post/181756885220/murder-in-the-blue-morgue-part-4

“Alright, kid, where are we off to?” Russel had been quick to rush them out of the house and onto the streets, leaving 2D and Kathleen to discuss whatever matters befell them. He knew that it might end up with some physical violence, but he just wanted to get Jo out of the house, because it would’ve been more violent with someone who more easily provoked her. “Um, I mean, you were thinkin’ a diner, right?” She was still a little awkward around the band, as, though she would never admit to feeling a little overwhelmed that they all showed up, it still was a change of pace. “Preferably one with a hot waitress.” Murdoc stumbled behind them. It takes more than one beer to get Murdoc drunk, of course, but that was assuming that it was his first beer of the day. “I can get you one with an easy waitress,” She started to walk on the right side of the street, with the band, minus 2D, trailing behind her through the unfamiliar streets, “So, you just casually flew all the way out here, huh?” 

“Needed a break, y’know? And, we never really visit other places unless we’re on tour. Just wanted to see casual New Jersey,” Noodle was looking to make conversation again, “Besides, I don’t know if ‘D would’ve been able to face that woman without our encouragement.” “He won’t, y’know. We should’ve stayed.” “Nah, he’s actually pretty capable, we just needed to push him to actually see her in the first place.” Noodle made sure to leave out the part where they purposely taken the painkillers out of his suitcase so he could stay focused.” “Also, you need to get outta that house. That woman is a massive bitch. Dunno how she ever got any, even Dents has standards.” Murdoc, though not considerate, wasn’t stupid. And he made sure everyone knew that. “Yeah, sorry about that. Trust me, we saved the bad stuff for when people aren’t in the house. But normally I don’t stick around for that long anyway.” “Yeah, my parents were shitty too. More advice? Your birth doesn’t determine your family, and for your sanity you need to move out as soon as possible.” Murdoc once again threw in his 2 cents, spewing things that, while unsolicited, were at least relevant. And, for once, he was happy to share his life experiences. “Again, I already got that. But, thanks. Oh, look, we’re here.” She turned into the glass doors of a sparsely populated diner. The bell rang above them that alerted the attention of a waitress with dark, black hair and a large smile. “Hey! Joey! How’ve you been?” She approached the group with a couple menus in her hand. “Y’know, the usual. Break’s over. School’s shit.” Jo shrugged and looked at the floor. “Ever the optimist. And you brought new folks!” “Yeah, luv, we’re scouting out the best girls of Jersey.” Murdoc shoved his way to the front, sensing someone just as eager as he was. “Well, you came to the right spot! But I’m not off work for a few hours, so we’ll see what I can do for you now, and you can come find me after hours.” She gestured for them to follow her to the corner table, with Murdoc’s eyes trained on her ass the whole time. “Y’know, Jo, I can’t remember the last time anyone but you and your buds sat here.” She and Jo shared a laugh. “Well, you’ve worked here for two months. Just wait for spring, that’s when all the crackheads start to show up.” The group took seats around the table as Jo continued her conversation, with the girl passing out the menus. “Dear, it is Jersey.” “Hey, going to college doesn’t count as living here. Only I get to insult Jersey. Not that it needs help.” “Alright, you folks take a look at those menus and I’ll be back in a minute.” The waitress sashayed off into the kitchen, leaving the group in a decided silence and Murdoc slightly stunned as his eyes followed her. “What’s her name?” “Gina.” “Damn.”

//The meal passes, because transitions amirite folks//

“And they invited you the next year?” “Everyone knows you can’t have a party without Murdoc Niccals.” Murdoc leaned forward, a french fry in one of his hands, or ‘chip’ as he called it, obviously way too invested in the telling of his many holiday stories. “Even though he was in prison next year.” Noodle hadn’t spared any expense in going outside of her comfort zone with this meal. In all her time living in England and Japan, she couldn’t deny that she had gotten both her best and worst food experiences in America. However, the greasy, juicy burger that had sat in front of her an hour ago was definitely one of the better ones. “Wouldn’t be the last time either.” Russel had to admit that he’d been missing classic American food, even if it wasn’t like what he’d had in Brooklyn. Of course, New Jersey pizza, especially with the yelling in Italian that he’d heard from the kitchen, was nothing to sneeze at. “Damn.” Jo leaned backward in her seat, feeling her pancakes already beginning to digest in her stomach. Diner food was always fantastic, and it practically ran through her blood at this point, but it never ceased to make her incredibly tired. “Hey, now, I was only guilty once, and I was just caught because that goddamn brothel wanted me back.” Surprisingly, even though he, at one point, had been one of the most immoral people that England had ever known, most of the reasons he had gone to prison were fairly tame. False checks, contact breaches, etc. The boring crimes were the only ones where he cared to get sloppy. “Well, no, gettin’ in trouble with the cops is nothin’, you’re only really in trouble if you get caught.” Jo munched on one of Noodle’s fries, similar to Murdoc, wholly invested in the conversation. “Little young to be robbing stores, are we?” Russel could remember back to his own childhood, even in private school. One of the best parts of being a kid, of course was doing illegal things and knowing how illegal they were while you were doing them. “Nah, robbing stores is trashy. Just trespassing. But again, you’re only really in trouble if you get caught, so I’m clean.” “Alright folks!” Gina returned to the table, slamming the receipt in the middle of the group, “It’s been a pleasure having you all here tonight, and I do hope to see you again. Especially you,” She blew a kiss to Murdoc, “Jus’ give a yell when you’re ready, the place is practically empty.” She was right. The diner was completely vacant, and most of the lights were off as the staff had begun to clean up. The group had spent more time at the diner than they’d originally intended, getting caught up in conversation while slowly gnawing away at the food, which was admittedly delicious. Even Noodle, who would normally ask for dessert at this point, was completely stuffed. “Alright, so mine was 7 bucks, and-“ Jo had pulled some of her babysitting money out of her back pocket, and begun flipping through the cash.” “Wait, mine was only 6 dollars?” Noodle had pulled out a 20-dollar bill, ready to cover the expenses. “Well, yeah. We don’t just like diners because they have good food, they’re also cheap.” Jo had forgotten that not everyone was familiar with having delicious food this readily accessible. “Uh, Noodle, I only brought pounds, can you cover me for, uh, 15 dollars?” Murdoc had insisted that he had brought dollar bills when the rest of the band was going to the exchange counter, and that his time would be better spent ‘discussing’ music with one of the cashiers at the gift shop. “Damn, Murdoc, what did you buy?” Russel, too, was thumbing through his wallet. “Only, like 2 beers.” “No problem, Mudz.” Noodle sighed. The group had left their cash on the table, including a rather generous tip considering the racket that they’d made, and cleared out into the empty, dark streets. The buzz of cars was in the distance, but any populated roads were at least three blocks up. All of the streets with the most popular food or shops were almost entirely ones where people would walk. “So, um, are do you guys wanna go back to the apartment, or…? Because, like, if you’re curious about the nightlife I can give you directions or somethin’.” Jo was never good at ending meetings, especially when they resulted in her having to return home, but she couldn’t keep them here all day. “Actually, yeah, are there any bars around-“ “We’ll head back with you and see if 2D is still busy.” Russel interrupted Murdoc, yet again, legitimately curious if 2D had turned out alright. “Where would ‘D have gone if he was done? Back to the hotel, right?” Noodle was just beginning to realize how chilly the night could be, even in the city, slowly rubbing her arms. “I hope so.” Russel lead the way this time, vaguely remembering the way that the group had taken on their way there. He and Noodle continued up front, with Noodle gawking at some of the lights while chatting with Russel about some of his memories from living in the area. “Psst.” Jo whispered into Murdoc’s ear while they continued down the street. “Yeah?” Murdoc copied her whisper instinctively, his attention grabbed. “2 blocks up from the apartment, on 419 Edgebrook Street, it’s free drinks with karaoke that night. And there’s a strip club just down the street. Just tell ‘em you know Marty and they’ll let you in.” “Who the bloody hell is Marty?” “I know the son of the guy who runs it. Marty is his dad.” “Hm. Thanks, kid.” “No problem.” Sirens blared down the street, closing up just behind the group, and slowing down as they passed the group, making them halt in their tracks. The cop driving the car pointed his flashlight out at the group, finally landing it on Jo. “Josephine Powell?” “That’s me.” “You’re gonna have to come down to the station with us.” The group began looking at each other, slightly panicking. “I didn’t do it.” Jo didn’t know that trespassing could land someone a police chase. “What? No, you’re not being arrested, it’s your mother?” “What happened?” “She’s been murdered.”

DUN DUN DUN!!!

Thanks to all of y’all who got this far.

Be on the lookout for more chapters!

[aringabrielmoved]

I’m Gonna Change Your Life

(Chapter Two of: The Night We Met) Chapter one is on tumblr and ao3

(Again, under a read more as it’s about 5,000 words! Tagging @omuonrice because they were super enthusiastic and kind about the first chapter!)

“C’mon, are you not enough of a rebel, Joey?” Mary had a glint of fire in his eyes as Joseph flinched away from the needle that he personally believed was too close to his eye for comfort. How had Mary convinced him to do this? His dad was going to kill him, it didn’t matter that he was moved out. Mary was supposed to be his path to domesticity and respectable Christian life, not college rebellion and fake IDs. And certainly not getting a black eyebrow piercing and ripped up jeans. His mother would have thrown them into the fire.

“Fuck!” Joseph’s voice rang into the small shop they were in before he immediately covered his mouth and felt the tips of his ears heating up. He took a deep breath as the slight sting of the new piercing in his eyebrow hit him. He saw himself in a small mirror across the way and slowly looked over his own face, bringing his finger up to the barbell that was now in his skin, wincing when he touched it. “Oh my stars, what have you done to me, Mary.”

Mary’s friend Damien had tagged along and was laughing to himself in the corner at Joseph’s apparent surprise. He had only tagged along because Mary wanted another person to come and make sure that Joseph didn’t chicken out, but he was glad he had sacrificed his time to witness that. “Maybe now you’ll finally pull out that stick that your father has shoved so far up your posterior.” Damien feigned an old-timey sort of accent and broke out into laughter along with Mary.

Joseph sat up and looked a little dizzy, but he had a small smile curling his lips up slowly. He tried to act like he felt guilty, and maybe he did, but rebellion tasted bitter-sweet. “I think it looks good, Joseph, something other than khakis and good Christian spirit.” Mary was smiling a little too wide, like it was her life’s purpose to lead Joseph into rebellion and this was the first movement forward. “You’re getting there, Christiansen, slowly but surely.” Damien giggled as Mary went on. “Let’s get out of here, we’ve got progress to make.”

Of course, Joseph made sure to thank the guy who had pierced his eyebrow for the sake of peer pressure before following Mary and Damien out of the shop and to Mary’s car, that was just the right thing to do. He was irrationally terrified of what his parents were going to think, even if he was 19 now and two hours away from home while moving into an apartment next to the college nearby. College. Oh boy, that was a storm coming his way. What was he doing in college? He’d figure it out, right?

Mary ruffled his hair and he quickly sprung into real life and away from his intrusive thoughts, staring over at where Mary sat in the driver’s seat. “I’m assuming I can’t convince you to do anything fun with that perfect bleach-blond hair of yours?” Joseph shook his head as he looked at the faint streaks of red that were slowly fading from Mary’s dirty blonde hair. He was not going to do that, or anything of the sort to his hair.

“No, thank you, Mary. I’m perfectly fine with my boring blond hair.” Joseph reached up to touch his hair, as if to assure himself that Mary couldn’t mess with it and it was still there. He was already afraid that Mary was about to slash all of his jeans, though he had to admit he liked the feeling his new ripped jeans gave him. It was something different, it was his own decision, not his parents’ or his fear telling him to stick to what he knew.

“Suit yourself, Sailor, but I’m taking Dames to a friend’s house to dye his hair.” Joseph raised an eyebrow when Mary started giggling, Damien shaking his head in the back seat as they turned a corner on the way to their apartment. “Some asshole called him gay for having a purple streak, so now we’re gonna dye all of it fucking purple.” Joseph sighed and Mary pulled onto the side of the street in front of their building with a smile on her face.

Damien was grinning now too, obviously in on this joke. “Well, I just think that if purple hair really does mean homosexual, then I should be very clear that I am fully committing to purple hair.” Joseph laughed a little at that one, but he was nervously tapping his fingers on the door next to him and becoming acutely aware of the fact that there was no comfortable place for his tongue to rest in his mouth. Hanging out with Mary and her friends was nerve-wracking, he didn’t know what he was supposed to talk about or how much information he was allowed to reveal to second-hand friends that he wasn’t truly acquainted to- and what if he hit a touchy subject? What if he got hungry but was too polite to interrupt and ask for food? What if-

“Jo, cool your jets, I stopped at the apartment for a reason!” Mary unlocked the doors in the car with a click and looked over a Joseph with a sort of knowing smile. He had already put the poor guy through so much rebellious change in one day, he needed a break. “I get it, you can chill here while we go- there’s leftover takeout in the fridge.” Mary laughed as Joseph’s face lit up, his seat belt unbuckling as he let out a long sigh.

The car door swung open too fast for Joseph to hide his apparent relief, but he wanted Mary to know that he was thankful for her mercy. “You are a blessing, Mary.” Joseph stopped half way out of the door to lean over a press a kiss to Mary’s cheek, hoping that that somehow conveyed his gratitude. Mary just rolled her eyes and motioned for Damien to come up and take shotgun. Joseph finally stepped out into the fresh air, noticing how dark it had gotten- it must have been getting late. “Please be safe, call if you stay the night?”

Mary nodded and sent a peace sign Joseph’s way as Damien closed the passenger door, knowing that no matter what Joseph would worry about her while she was gone. He was a kind soul like that. “Deuces, nerd, don’t get into too much trouble.”

Joseph waved as the car sped away and fished through his pocket for the key to their apartment, struggling to shove his hand deep enough into the tight pocket of his jeans to retrieve it. As he scaled the steps to their door, he realized that his stomach was growling. They really had been out for a while, huh? He was tired, but not ready for sleep, even if the soft sheets of his and Mary’s bed looked appealing right now.

Food. Right. How old was that take out in the fridge? Joseph was not ready to be a victim of week old take out- his stomach churned at the thought. Instead, he opened his wallet and stared at its contents. At least 50 bucks, and that could go a long way for crappy filler food, a few old receipts, some of those punch out cards he always forgot when he actually went to a place that used them, and the newest addition, a fake ID, proclaiming him to be 22-year-old Jared Hanson. Was this convincing? It looked real, but did it look real to anyone else?

Joseph turned to look into the full length mirror across the bedroom, staring at himself for a moment. It was weird to see himself looking so different than he had a few months ago, but he thought he was rocking the ripped jeans. His shoes were kind of clunky, and he wished his glasses would go far, far away, but that eyebrow piercing was cool, right? He knew at least a few people who would have to do an open-mouthed double take if they saw him right now.

The piercing kind of hurt, and to be honest, the holes in his jeans were making his legs kind of cold, but he felt so empowered that he couldn’t bring himself to care. He was being an individual, a rebellious college student, and he didn’t have to have a reason for it did he? He just felt good! He was allowed to be whoever he wanted and wear whatever he wanted- even if he kind of wanted to throw on sweatpants and give up for the day. He was going to keep these jeans on and show the world, he was god damn determined.

He took one last glance at himself in the mirror before pocketing his wallet, fake ID enclosed, 50 dollars safe and sound. He was going to go out and he knew just the place. A bar, any bar really, so he didn’t know the place. He knew nothing about bars, actually. All he knew was that his 22-year-old fake ID  alter-ego Jared could get into any bar he wanted to. So once he made sure he had his keys, he threw on an ugly salmon colored jacket over his shirt and locked the door behind him, taking his grumbling stomach out into the world and looking around. Gosh darn, it was cold outside.

There were a few signs with bright lights that had turned on since the last time he was outside, and the small street looked almost pretty with the lighting. (It wasn’t a very attractive street.) There was a café that had earlier in the day closed, one of those weird but cute antique stores that was probably only open on Wednesdays or something, the road to the college campus that wasn’t very far away, a small family diner with a small glowing ‘open’ sign, and all the way at the end of the street was a bar with obnoxious neon light radiating down onto the pavement. That was his fate, right?

No big deal, walk up, show someone his ID, get in, get a beer? One beer wouldn’t get him drunk, right? What would his parents think, their little boy going out and getting drunk underage, oh my stars, he would never hear the end of it. He could do it, though, show himself that he was capable of walking in that bar in his new clothes, with his new piercing, with his 1- 22 year-old self. Yeah, he could totally do that.

He could feel the light washing over him as he approached the building, his hands fidgeting in his pockets as he approached the door. His thumb and forefinger grabbed hold of his ID preemptively, and his heart was beating faster than normal without his permission. A few people outside of the bar were staring at him as he made his way to the door, following a crowd of people who looked young, but older than him. Act natural, right? Confidence is key.

A few people in front of him pulled their IDs out and Joseph did the same, getting nothing more than a strange glance before he walked into the bar. And he was in. He was in a bar. That was fine right? He was a year past legal adult. Two years under legal drinker, but he wasn’t not planning on getting wasted anytime soon. Was it morally wrong? Well, not if he shifted his morals. He realized that he had been standing in one place for too long, that he was probably expected to move and sit down somewhere.

A table would be sad, and maybe suspicious. He hadn’t thought about the fact that he was coming in alone, or the fact that he would have to talk to someone to order food or drinks. The end of the bar was fine, right? There was almost no one at the one end, but enough people scattered around that he wouldn’t look alone. He slid into a seat and tapped his fingers on the bar, hoping that the bartender would take a while to notice him.

Joseph heard the door open again, but he didn’t pay attention, more focused on toying with his wallet and rehearsing what to say when he had to order something. The man who walked in sure did pay attention to him, though. If Joseph had the ability to read minds he would know that the man’s exact thoughts were something along the line of ‘what is this poor boy doing here.’ It was easy to ignore groups of college kids drinking their final exams away, but it was not easy to ignore a scared looking twink of a college student sitting alone at the bar.

“Can I buy you a drink?” Joseph nearly jumped out of his seat when the man jumped into the seat next to him, but he tried to calm himself down. Someone thought he was old enough to be bought a drink, and that counted for something. Was this guy nice, though? Did he want something else? Maybe it was time to abort mission. The man adopted a concerned look onto his face, hoping that he hadn’t intruded on some internal conflict. “Are ya doing okay there, kid?”

Joseph finally looked over at the man, giving him a once over. Or a twice-over. He was a little nervous. The man was easily in his twenties, and a little older than most college students, but he gave off the vibe. He had a leather jacket on that was a little too big, and Joseph could only figure that it was his dad’s. He had messy dark hair, tight-but-not-too-tight jeans, and some nice hands that toyed with the ring on his finger. Ring on his finger. Married. Phew. “Me- I, yeah!”

Joseph’s jittery nervousness thankfully didn’t scare the man away, he just slumped against the bar and motioned the bartender over to where they sat. “What do you want to drink, you look like you deserve one.” Joseph attempted to ask for beer and the man laughed at his cluelessness, and the fact that he didn’t even know what kind of beer he liked. He really was new to the bar scene. “Two shots of whiskey, please.”

Joseph realized that he was being bought alcohol. And that he hadn’t eaten. He wasn’t an expert on how fast people got drunk, but if he knew anything, he knew that drinking on an empty stomach would get him drunk faster than he wanted to be. And he already would get drunk fast if he hadn’t had alcohol before, right? He was going to turn into a train wreck pretty fast. “You don’t have to-“

“Shush, you obviously don’t know what you’re doing, you need a hand.” Joseph stared at the alcohol that was pushed towards him and then back at the man who had bought it. He could have easily said no thank you and went home. And that would be his fate wouldn’t it, being a bad rebel? No, he was going to prove himself. He snapped his head back and downed the shot like he saw in movies, feeling the burn down his throat but ignoring it the best he could. He must have made a weird face, though. “Damn, maybe not as much help as I thought you did.”

“I- yeah, thank you.” The man looked Joseph up and down this time, taking in more than he should have for being a married man. He wasn’t going to make any moves, that was the farthest thing from his mind, but he could appreciate Joseph for what he was. Especially after he took that shot. It was a little sexy. He shook his head and looked back up to where Joseph sat his glass on the table. Joseph could feel the man’s eyes, but he didn’t really care.  He was confident that the guy was loyal to his wife, he seemed like a good man. “What are you doing here?”

The other man’s shot was the next to go, a laugh rising into the air once he swallowed. “Ah- you first, what’s got you in here.” For some reason Joseph figured he wasn’t a man to drink beer often, definitely a shots man. Joseph was also sure that he just witnessed the man order more shots. Wow, he might have been screwed. “And I want the real shit, you look like the most scared, failed attempt of rebellion I’ve ever seen.”

Joseph’s face went a little red, and he tried to avoid talking. He had no idea how long it would take him to start feeling weird on an empty stomach. “I- well…I don’t know what I’m doing.” The man laughed and gave Joseph another shot, muttering something about ‘me too, kid,’ that make Joseph feel a little better. Maybe they were both at a lost point in life. He felt oddly ready to spill his thoughts to stranger, and he knew that wasn’t the alcohol talking yet. “I’m supposed to be going to college, that’s why I’m here, but I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

“Ah, I get that.” The man looked kind of tired while thinking about that, still sipping on alcohol. “I know I look kind of old for college, but I still don’t know what I’m doing.” There was a story to be told there, and Joseph was determined to uncover it and help, but he realized he was supposed to be getting the help right now. Curse him and his kind, helpful charm.

He didn’t know how to explain without sounding like he hated his parents, but they were a part of the reason that he was so conflicted. “It’s- my parents.” Whoop, there it is. “They probably want me to study religion if anything, and I-“ He sighed as he attempted not to delve too far into why he wasn’t sure what to do. That would require insight into his past, and that was a little too personal and complicated. “I just- have other interests.”

A reassuring nod kept Joseph on the right track, encouraging him to keep going on with his story. “I really like helping people,” Joseph’s eyes lit up as he thought about the possibility of becoming a counselor, maybe even still helping with church but in a different way. “I’m thinking about child psychology- or psychology in general,”  The thought….excited him more than he ever thought it would. He could really be a positive force instead of a negative one, offering help and encouragement instead of hate and violent words. “But doesn’t psychology kind of…go against my religion or something?

The man took another shot after taking a deep breath, looking like he was trying to collect his thoughts. What was that, his third shot? Joseph, feeling self-conscious of his drinking ability, downed his second. He hadn’t even realized that there were two more in front of him. The man in front of him cleared his throat and Joseph grabbed his third shot, settling in for an inspirational speech. “You know what? Fuck it, man.”

Joseph grinned back at the statement, but raised an eyebrow, not sure exactly what he meant. He had half a mind to scold the man for dropping an f-bomb.  Joseph sipped a small amount of whiskey and immediately regretted it, making a face before downing the rest. This was dangerous territory wasn’t it, four shots would be too much, right? Whatever, this was fun. “How so?” Was he a little tipsy? Maybe. So many questions. He did, however, refrain from yelling at the man for using the f-swear.

“Just- fuck it, it’s ’a good philosophy.” The man shrugged and looked down at his drink, possibly trying to hide a story, but Joseph was feeling adventurous and he wanted to hear it. His head was swimming a little, a weird disoriented feeling that he wasn’t used to, but he was still fine. The man did, however, snap his fingers at one point to get Joseph’s attention.

Joseph shook his head a little in an attempt to regain his concentration, a smile on his face. “C’mon, there’s more than that, give me the speech.” The man tried to look confused, but Joseph was giving a very knowing gaze, even if he almost fell off his chair when he moved too fast. “I can feel it, you want to give the inspirational speech, hit me with it.” Joseph made a hand gesture that signaled the man to go on.

“I came to college with no fucking idea what I was doing- I had just had a kid and I was trying to get my shit together, and I still am.” He had a determined grin on his face, and he downed another shot, seemingly only slightly buzzed even after Joseph had lost count of the amount of alcohol he had consumed. “But now I’ve got a beautiful 4 year old daughter and a degree in film studies because- movies are cool!” He laughs and slides a tip to the bartender as he pays for his drinks, handing a final shot over to Joseph. “So fuck it, do whatever makes you happy, kid.”

The man cheered softly as Joseph drank down his last shot, the fourth or fifth? He lost track, and he felt weird after what- a half an hour of conversation? Maybe longer? He was still kind of hungry, and he was a little nauseous…woah, a little tired, but he was fine. Totally fine. “Whatever makes me happy?” Joseph chuckled a little, but he had to stop when he felt kind of sick. Bathroom? Good idea. Standing? Nah. The moment he tried to stand he had to hold onto the bar, and he immediately started laughing at himself, quite uncontrollably.

“Yeah- are you okay?” The man stood in front of Joseph, holding out a stabilizing hand just in case he started going down. Did a few shots really hit the guy that hard? Maybe more than a few…but they had been talking, maybe he gave the poor guy too much.

Joseph vaguely registered a hand on his shoulder and he tried to calm himself down to respond, ignoring the look of concern on the face of the man in front of him. “Me? Fine- I’m fine, are you fine?” Joseph attempted to start walking again and had to stop and stabilize himself, almost losing his balance.

The man caught Joseph and made sure to keep him upright, his heart racing just a little faster than normal now that he had a drunk college kid on his hands. “Shit, man, come here.” He swung an arm around Joseph’s shoulder and let the drunken idiot lean against him, even though Joseph was a little taller. “How- is it your first time drinking whiskey?”

Joseph giggled and fell against the other man’s shoulder, not even noticing that he was being led towards the door. “It’s my first time drinking, buddy, and I think I’m doing pretty good- I’m hungry, are you hungry?” Joseph brought a hand to his stomach and thought about food, remembering vaguely that he never did order any at the bar. Man, he could have gone for a burger and some fries, something greasy and gross.

“Shit, your first time drinking?” The man sighed and pressed a hand to his face, hoping that they weren’t attracting attention from anyone else in the bar. “Did you not eat anything?” Joseph’s stomach grumbling and his nauseous-ness let the man know that he hadn’t eaten anything before coming to the bar. What an amateur. “Why did you let me give you that many shots on an empty stomach and your first time drinking?” The man quickly deduced that the kid hanging off of his arm was not used to rebelling- he got the feeling when he mentioned his religious childhood, but that solidified it.

“I wanted to seem cool- and it was free alcohol for me.” Joseph stated this bluntly, apparently losing his verbal filter as the alcohol clouded his judgement. He giggled and nearly ran into the door before the man could open it. Wow, he was having the time of his life. Poor guy wasn’t going to feel so great in the morning.

“Alright- well, I’m Robert.” The man- Robert- gave Joseph a gentle slap on the face to get his attention, and he tried to put on a friendly smile. ”And I’m gonna walk you home so you don’t accidentally kill yourself.” Robert looked out into the dark street, the realization dawning upon him that he had no idea where the kid lived. “Where are we headed to?” Robert was fully aware of how insane they looked at the moment, staring into the darkness in complete silence while waiting for Joseph to remember where his own house was.

Joseph hiccuped and covered his mouth before pointing to his apartment building, thankfully visible down the street. Ugh, he felt kind of gross. He was not going to be happy if he vomited. “Can I lay down?” He looked down at the parking lot underneath him, but it was looking more and more appealing by the second.

Robert sighed and held Joseph up to prevent him from deciding to pass out on the street. He did not put it past anyone that hungry and full of alcohol to spend a night on the pavement. At least his house was close. “Alright, you know where you live, that’s a start.” Could the drunk guy probably make it home without him? With enough effort, yes, but Robert felt like the situation was his responsibility. Hell, he could remember the first time he got drunk, and it wasn’t pretty.

Joseph turned them towards his apartment building once they walked down the street, fumbling for a key in his pocket while they made their way towards an intimidating looking set of stairs. “Yeah, well I know what I’m doing, Bobert- Robert.” Joseph let out an ugly low giggle, pulling his key out and almost dropping it. “Bobert.” Robert looked like he wanted to growl back at that name. The kid was lucky that he was drunk and stupid or Robert would have kicked his ass.

After a thankfully short walk up the stairs, Robert took the key from Joseph and unlocked the door to the apartment to save himself the key fumbling and dropping. Joseph spotted the couch as soon as they walked in and flopped onto it. God, he was going to wake up uncomfortable if he slept there. “Don’t you- you have a bed, right?” Joseph rolled over and buried himself in the couch, cuddling a pillow close to his chest.

“Too far away, time for sleep.” Robert placed the key on the coffee table in front of the couch and found a notepad to scrawl on so that the drunk kid, and anyone who stumbled upon him, would hopefully have a clue what was going on.

Robert headed for the door, not sure if he should disturb Joseph’s drunken dozing on the couch. “Good luck, kid.” A muffled groan full of tired energy was all he needed to know that the kid was alive before he vacated the apartment, laughing softly to himself as he walked down the street.

-xxxxx-

Hey- nameless drunk college kid from the bar, ( I just realized I never got your name), sorry for letting you drink yourself half to death, that was pretty shitty. I hope you’re doing alright because the second I got you here you crashed on the couch. Remember, do whatever makes you happy, kid. –Robert

-xxxxx-

“Joseph?” Mary’s voice rang through his ears as he slowly drifted into consciousness, an awful headache hitting him when he tried to sit up. He gave up and eased himself back down to the couch. Mary was holding a piece of paper in her hands and reading it over for a second time, trying to absorb the information. “Who the hell is Robert-“ Mary seemed more amazed than angry. “And did you actually go out last night, alone? I didn’t think you had it in you!”

Joseph groaned and held his head in his hands, kicking his uncomfortable jeans off after a night of sleeping in them. He could feel Mary’s eyes on his as she laughed. He looked like a mess, hair ruffled, shirt hiked up above his stomach, jeans now around his ankles. “Robert…?” Joseph had to search his mind for memories of the past night. Handsome, nice guy from the bar. “Oh! He bought me drinks last night and gave me life advice, nice guy.” Joseph buried his head in the pillow in front of him, hoping that Mary was done interrogating him.

Mary handed the note to Joseph and waited for him to turn his face away from the pillow. “Huh…was he cute?” Joseph groaned again and reached out to grab the paper, looking over it quickly with a pained smile on his face. He couldn’t seem to make the smile go away either for some reason.

“He was attractive by conventional standards.” Mary scoffed at the prim and proper way that Joseph had to put it. Joseph caught himself admitting that the man had been attractive. He needed to go back to sleep.  “He was also married- why are you asking?”

“Nothing, Jo, get some sleep.” Mary giggled as she walked out of the room, heading towards the kitchen. God bless her soul, she was making breakfast. Joseph stared back at the note before setting it on the table again.

Do whatever makes you happy, kid.

Those words of wisdom would stick with him. Whatever made him happy. He had a few ideas.

[topazshadowwolf]

Papyrus! Go Long!

Whoooo! More Gaster Blaster AU fic goodness for those of you you want more of this AU. I know I do. This one continues after I’m At Soup, so make sure you read that one first.

Hope you are enjoying this random Gaster Blastober, I know I am!

An Undertale Fanfic by: Topaz Shadowwolf Undertale is owned by: Toby Fox Set in the Gaster Blaster AU Relationships: Soriel  (only mentioned in this one) Rating: Teen Heads up: Some mention of thoughts of self harm. Best way to explain this AU is if Sans and Papyrus were a werewolf. Consider this before reading.

Papyrus! Go Long!

“Papyrus! Open the door before I do!” Yelled the last person Sans wanted to see today. Undyne was a bit too intense for his taste, but, she's good friends with his brother. In an odd way, that made the angry-fish-lady Sans’s “sister he didn't know he wanted, and still not sure he does.”

To rescue the front door from being turned to splinters, Sans opened it to let her in. “pap is finishing up in the kitchen,” Sans said as he watched Undyne walk in. Even without the title of Royal Guard, or the armor, she still has a way of moving that demanded respect.

She gave him that look, the same look Sans remembered getting when she caught him slacking off at his sentry stations, “And let me guess, you're not helping him.”

“undyne, you hurt me. i answered the door for him, but i suppose that’s not good enough for you,” Sans put a hand to his chest, where his heart would be if he had one. He continued the act by faking a wounded backwards stumble. Something about that felt too real though, so he decided to stop the act there before any unwanted memories resurfaced.

On cue, Undyne rolled her eyes at his overly dramatic reaction. Luckily, Papyrus spoke up then, “IT IS ALRIGHT, UNDYNE! I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, AM FULLY CAPABLE OF COMPLETING MY KITCHEN DUTIES, AND WITHOUT THE AID OF MY LAZY BROTHER!” Papyrus stepped out of the kitchen, taking off the MTT brand apron. It was an odd little gift Sans gave his brother after moving to the surface, and Papyrus liked to wear it while cleaning or cooking. With a sigh and his hands on his hips, Papyrus added, “HE HAS BEEN RATHER LAZIER THAN NORMAL TODAY.”

“i wasn't that lazy, i did help put the food away,” Sans shrugged, trying not to grin while he awaited his brother's response. “EATING EVERYTHING ISN’T PUTTING THE FOOD AWAY!” And there it was, the look he gets that is a weird mix of playful frustration.

“Anyway,” Undyne said, bringing the subject back to why she was here, “Papyrus, you gotta try out this throwing disk, Frisk gave me. I saw them at the dump before, but the cavern walls didn't allow us to use them for their intended purpose.”

“A DISK? LIKE, FOR A COMPUTER?” Papyrus frowned, looking confused.

“you mean a frisbee?” Sans asked, deciding to cut to the chase.

“Yeah! You heard of them?” Undyne grinned.

Sans shrugged, “just a guess.”

“Right,” Undyne turned back to Papyrus, “YOU HAVE TO TRY THIS! COME ON!”

“ALRIGHT! SOUNDS LIKE FUN,” Papyrus replied in his normal happy tone, but with narrowed eyes, “THOUGH, I STILL HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU ARE TALKING ABOUT.��

“heh, you two have fun,” Sans turned to walk over to the sofa, ready to spend the afternoon to himself in silence and peace. Before he reached his intended sitting place, his feet were no longer on the ground. Annoyed at this, he tried to glance back at Undyne, who had held him up by the back of his jacket. It was a very uncomfortable way to be held, it made him feel like some sort of puppy. The blaster part in the back of his head wanted snap at her, but he kept it in check and just gave her a questioning look.

“Oh, no you don’t. You’re getting some fresh air, too,” She said and dragged Sans out of the house with them. All Sans could do is give a lazy shrug and enjoy the free ride, even if it was uncomfortable and a bit degrading.

He had to stay relaxed, and maybe some air and sunshine would help with that. So far, it had been a whole month since his last change, and he would love to go another week before the next. If it meant going along with his brother’s and Undyne’s crazy ideas, he won’t fight them.

At the park he found himself a spot nearby, under a tree. Undyne pulled out the thing that was indeed a frisbee. He had seen them in the dump, most with the word “Frisbee” painted on them, but never really thought much of what purpose they were supposed to serve. Some of them looked like they had been mauled by a dog or such. So, he had figured it could have been a dog toy and took no interest to them.

Not like he really cared to find out what they were for now, either. Instead, he enjoyed the feel of the dappling of sunshine on his skull, and yawned sleepily. A good nap could very well be just what he needed. In the background he could hear Undyne and Papyrus talking about something concerning the frisbee, but still, he didn’t really care. Settled with his back to the tree, he closed his eyes with a content sigh. It wasn’t until he heard a sound of something flying, did he crack a socket open.

The frisbee sailed through the air between Undyne and Papyrus, each taking a turn catching it then throwing it back at the other. Each time, they changed up how they threw, trying to make it more difficult on the other. A nagging feeling started to well up in him. The same feeling he gave into at the supermarket when he saw the can rolling. The desire to catch that disk was becoming hard to bare. Desperate to not embarrass himself in front of Undyne, or trigger the change, he rubbed his sockets and tried to focus on other thoughts.

“Hey, Papyrus!” Undyne yelled out, “Go long!”

“HUH?” Papyrus looked confused, even tilted his skull slightly in a questioning manner.

“Just start running!” Undyne replied, and with that Sans closed his sockets again; he tried his best not to think of the flying object that begged him to catch it.

“What the…,” said Undyne, which Sans didn’t expect her to say. Worried about what that could mean, Sans felt his nonexistent stomach sink. Undyne looked like she was in a state of shock. As for Papyrus, he was gleefully running... on all fours. Boots abandoned, as they only hindered his forward movement, his younger brother raced ahead, gaining the distance he would need to catch the frisbee. Guessing by what he saw, Sans figured Papyrus’s gloves were torn by sharp claws at the end of each finger. His skull elongated by his muzzle and horns, had a smile on it, unaware of what happened or what he was doing. To top off his half-changed look, was a long tail trailing behind.

Sans inwardly winced at this scene, watching as his brother expertly stood to his feet while he pivoted on one leg to turn around. Papyrus’s giant grin was made bigger as his jaws parted to grab the frisbee. It looked effortless as his mouth closed around the plastic disk. Pleased he caught it, the long tail swished in a content wag.

Papyrus always had his behaviors, his idiosyncrasies, that most people just accepted as the influence of being around the dogs in the guard. Catching things in his mouth, fetching, and enjoying head pats to name a few. The truth was that they all were tied to his inner blaster. And since he had such control over his blaster self, indulging in those behaviors typically don't set off a change. That is, unless it's been a while, like a month, since his last transformation.

“What?!” Undyne yelled out. When Papyrus stood there, stunned, as he looked over himself in silence, Undyne turned to Sans. The small skeleton started to stand, and kept his back pressed against the tree. “WHEN COULD HE DO THAT?!” Undyne demanded, and Sans winced.

“since… uh, since he was born,” Sans said as he tried keeping eye contact with Undyne.

“How? How did I not know about this?” Undyne looked back over at Papyrus.

The tall, half beast, skeleton approached, holding the frisbee in his claw-torn, gloved hands and said, “We wanted to keep it a secret.” Sans winced, he hated when his brother spoke in that subtle tone; by far, he preferred the loud, overly jovial, attention stealing voice.

There was a moment of silence between them before Undyne exclaimed, “THAT WAS SO COOL!”

“WAS IT?” Papyrus again wagged his tail as he soaked in the praise.

“sure, it was,” Sans added.

“So, wait, if you can…,” Undyne looked over Papyrus, as if searching for a word that was failing to come to mind.

“CHANGE?” Papyrus offered.

“Yeah, sure. So, if you can change, and you and Sans as brothers, then can he change too?”

“i’m not as cool at it as pap,” Sans tried to deflect attention back to his brother, but no such luck.

“So, I want to see,” Undyne said, still grinning.

“Sans doesn't like changing,” Papyrus interjected in defense of his brother.

“What? Why? It's cool!” Undyne just wasn't going to drop it.

With a sigh, Sans submitted; the proverbial cat was out of the bag, anyway. Still, he looked away, uncomfortable with this, and not wanting to see any looks of pity, “when i change, it doesn't go as smoothly as it does for pap. it's more of me sitting in discomfort for a while, 30 minutes sometimes, followed by me whining about pain as my bones fracture, and then about 5 minutes, at most, of screaming. not exactly my idea of fun or cool.”

“Oh, man, sorry,” Undyne said, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“heh, nothing to worry about, not like you knew,” Sans shrugged.

“Does Toriel know?”

“...yeah…”

“Anyone else?”

“Not yet,” Papyrus spoke up, “Toriel found out a few months ago, AND NOW YOU.”

“You two kept this all a secret the whole time we were underground?” Undyne frowned.

“we were careful then, less…,” Sans started, but it was Papyrus who finished the statement.

“While we did join in some social activities, we weren’t the most social… or well-known of monsters,” Papyrus then sighed and looked down at the frisbee, “and… less things were there to trigger changes like this.”

All this talk was causing the blaster in Sans to squirm in his soul. He really wasn’t ready to change and he started to move away, “i think i’ve had enough air for today. i’ll see you at home, pap.”

Before his brother could finish his “SEE YOU, BROTHER,” Sans was back in his house thanks to a short cut. He took a few deep calming breaths, quieting the stirring in his soul. Shaking his skull, he walked over to the sofa and flopped onto it, face down.

Unable to fully relax, he rolled to his side and sighed. At this moment, he just wanted to talk to Toriel. He pulled out his cell phone and hovered his thumb over Toriel’s name. She was most likely with her class, teaching them something important. He opened the text message conversation they’ve been having and typed in: “*undyne found out”.

He stared at the simple message for a while before finally hitting send and rolling over so he was facing the back of the sofa. Maybe he should just let everyone else know. What’s the point at hiding it now? They were all going to find out anyway…

He didn’t want them to know. How many more would be curious about it, and, unlike Undyne or Toriel, they might not back off once they see Sans or Papyrus uncomfortable talking about it. They might also want to see Sans and his brother change, and put themselves in harm's way. This wasn’t something he wanted anyone to know, and yet hiding was getting more difficult, even with all the space there was on the surface.

It would make Papyrus happy if he didn’t have to hide. Still…

It just didn’t seem safe… like there was a threat in being known.