#hope there is functioning hot water i am so very very very tired of cold showers oml

[tpup]

my friend is subletting her room out for cheap enough I'm able to stay there!!! everywhere else needs you to be working full-time or have a guarantor who makes 40x the rent so I haven't been able to find shit... oml. been sleeping on couches or in my car since the summer.

this is still real small and certainly not an ideal place but holy shit a room with a bed 😭 hopefully I can stay there at least til I'm able to get a better treatment plan & can actually start working 🤞🤞🤞 & either way having my own space means I can try making content

[everyone-has-a-nightmare]

but I’m a fire and I’ll keep your brittle heart warm | warnette

Juliette has trouble sleeping. Set after believe me.

I’ve been looking at the clock for forty minutes. I realize I’m falling back into old habits, counting minutes and counting seconds and counting tick tick tick tick’s.

I stop myself before I spiral further into my own thoughts. I am not in the asylum. I am not in Oceania. I am safe I am safe I am safe.

I am sleeping next to my husband. This is the thought that keeps my heart from crawling to my throat.

Still, I am awake and he is not. It was a long day for both of us, but especially for Aaron. He works himself too hard. I guess old habits die hard, but we’re both working on it.

I crawl out of bed, careful as to not wake Aaron. I pull on one of his robes. It’s too big on me, but his warmth and scent keep me safe as I go down the stairs. We have lived in our house for a few weeks now, but I’m still getting used to getting so much space for ourselves. It hasn’t been easy, fixing a house that was left for ruin, but it’s ours, so I love it.

One of the steps creaks loudly beneath my feet. I sigh. We need to fix that.

Today it was the doors that needed fixing. They were about to come off their hinges, and after a mishap in which my finger got caught on one of the doors, Aaron insisted that they needed immediate attention. It’s hard work, but I wouldn’t change it for the world. Knowing that every hinge on every door has been meticulously inspected by my husband to keep us safe makes this house the best in the market.

I quickly find my way to our small kitchen. I can still smell the roasted chicken we made for dinner. Neither Aaron or I had much experience cooking, but luckily, one of our neighbors was more than happy to help. That neighbor was Kenji. Aaron pretended to be annoyed, but I could tell he was grateful for our friend’s help.

I start to boil some water on our barely-functioning stove. My tea won’t be very hot, but I’m hoping it’ll help with my insomnia.

I sit on the kitchen island facing the stove and wait in the darkness. Bring my knees to my chest and hug them to distract myself from the cold.

I’m about to jump down from the counter to get one of my mugs when the light flickers on. I don’t flinch, though. I know exactly who it is.

He sits next to me on the counter and rests his chin on top of my head. Presses a few kisses to my hair. “Sweetheart.” His voice is tired.

“Did I wake you?”

He puts one of his arms around my waist. “No, love, you didn’t wake me. I was just worried when I woke to an empty bed.”

I rest my head in his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Were you making tea?”

I nod.

He hops off the counter and looks for a mug. He chooses a light pink one that’s slightly cracked. It’s my favorite.

He’s usually up in the morning before I am, so he knows how I like my tea. He hands me my mug. “Here, love.” He brushes a few strands of hair that came loose from my ponytail away from my face.

I bring the lightly steaming cup to my lips and swallow. “Thank you, Aaron.”

His lips flicker to form the smallest and sweetest smile. “I’ll happily make your tea every day until we’re eighty.”

“I hope you do. And I’ll keep stealing your robes.”

His smile widens. “I love seeing you in my clothes, so I don’t think that will be a problem.”

I place a quick kiss on his cheek before finishing my tea. “Let’s go to bed, then.”

He places one arm under my knees and the other one behind my back, and carries me away before I can start protesting.

Our tired laughs make their way up our bedroom and well into the rest of the night.

[psychedellic-phase]

Perfect

A/N: this is a request that i got forever ago!! so sorry that it took me so long:(

ReidxFem!BAU!Reader

word count: 2.2k

tw: SMUT (unprotected sex, oral (road head, male recieving) , degradation, slight exhibitionism, all around rough sexy vibes plus a sweet ending)

Masterlist :)

The roads were always empty when you’d finally leave work. Your job was never nine to five; it was more like nine to midnight. Not that you minded; the company was always good.

The company was always Spencer. When everyone else would finally give up and go home for the night, he’s the one who always stayed. And once you started your torrid love affair with him, you stayed too. Most nights he’d take you in an empty conference room, or a bathroom stall. Everyone wondered why you two always seemed to have so much paperwork to do, when in actuality it wasn’t about the paperwork, it was about each other.

It started out how most friends-with-benefits situations do. You were both stressed, full of pent up frustrations and sexual energy with no outlet. It started after a case, him showing up at your door unannounced and practically jumping on you the second you let him in. That night ended with two earth-shattering orgasms, and sleeping next to your coworker.

You both swore it would just be that once.

“A moment of weakness,” you had told your girlfriends, but soon that moment of weakness turned into days, turned into months, turned into nearly a year of weakness. Nearly a year of janitors-closet hookups and concealer-caked hickies. Nearly a year of sexting and countless trips to the mile-high club.

It had been nearly a year, and even though you swore it was nothing, it was definitely something. Sure it was sex, but it was also the way he looked at you and the way he’d take care of you afterwards. It was the way he’d burn toast in the morning and kiss your cheek when you woke up. It was more than what either of you had bargained for, but neither one of you had gathered up the nerve to admit it.

You were hopelessly, desperately in love with each other, and neither of you even knew it.

“Staying late again?” You asked him, half sitting on his desk.

His eyes trailed up your legs, admiring how your skirt slid up. He cleared his throat, “Actually, I’m going home.”

You were taken aback. The matching bra and underwear under your clothes were counting on being taken off by him tonight.

“Oh, well, okay then.”

He smiled at you, that awkward smile he always does that you insist looks like a frog.

You made your way to your desk, embarrassed and red, wondering if he was suddenly tired of you. God, you hoped he wasn’t.

The two of you entered the elevator together, the air thick and awkward. Usually, you would’ve been halfway naked, doing god knows what right now, but instead you were standing three feet apart and wishing the elevator would fall through the floor.

When the doors opened, you exited simultaneously.

“Let me drive you home,” He said, delicately grabbing your wrist.

Your interest was piqued, “Oh?”

He pulled you a little closer to him, but not so close that security would see what he was trying to do, “I have plans for you.”

You giggled, “I like the sound of that.”

He pulled you to his car. The old, yellow thing must have been from 1926 and you were amazed it even functioned.

You followed him eagerly, dipping into the passenger seat with ease. He started the car, looking over at you with a gleam in his eyes that you swore was more than just the moonlight.

“So, what’s the plan, Reid?” You asked as he pulled out of the parking garage.

His hand met your thigh, stroking small circles on your bare skin, dangerously close to where you were already throbbing.

“I was thinking, maybe you could do something for me. I mean, since I am driving you home and all,” He looked over at you, devilish grin.

You bit your lip, “And what would that something be, Dr. Reid?”

He took his bottom lip into his mouth, “Surprise me.”

You took that as your opportunity to reach over, glide your hands up the inside seam of his pants and palm him. He was already rock hard, you could see the pants straining to contain him. You deftly moved your hand up, the same way you had a hundred times, and unbuckled his belt. Then you pulled down his zipper at a ridiculously slow rate.

“C’mon baby, the ride’s only so long,” He said, his voice strained and his breath already heavy.

“Then take the scenic route,” You whispered, biting at his neck as you dipped your hand into his boxers and pulled him out.

The moonlight allowed you to see the gleaming tip, mouth watering as you twisted your body so you could bend over. He tugged his pants down slightly and moved the seat back to give you more space and access.

Your tongue teased the tip first, swirling around the head and dipping into the slit. He tasted musky and salty, the same way he always did. You quickly used your lips to take the entire head into your mouth, sucking hard while your tongue touched anything it could reach.

The sounds coming out of his throat were animalistic, “God, stop teasing.”

He used one hand to gather up your hair and tugged on it gently, your mouth opening up wider. You hit a bump in the road, his cock forcing itself up into your throat and causing you to gag. You kept him there, as far in your throat as he could go. Your hand found whatever your mouth couldn’t reach and moved in the same rhythm as you did. You nipped and sucked at him, tongue drawing broad stripes up and down and up and down.

You removed your mouth for a moment, your hand smearing your saliva and his precum around as you jerked him. Your tongue found his balls sucking and squeezing each of them between your lips.

He bucked up into you, the car jerking.

You giggled, tongue still poking out to lick at him, “Watch the road, Reid.”

He groaned as your mouth and hands switched places, hands toying with him while you bobbed your head up and down. He thought he was going to explode.

“Get off,” he ordered, yanking your hair again, this time pulling you off.

You were confused, mascara under your eyes, cheeks puffy and hair a mess, “But—“

Spencer pulled off the side of the quiet road, “You’re going to go bend over the back seat.”

You wriggled in your seat, “But I want to—“

“You heard me. Back. Now.”

You got up on shaky legs, your neck aching slightly from the angle of the road head.

You opened the door, and bent over, allowing your skirt to ride up.

You felt Spencer behind you, his large hands warm on your thighs as he trailed his hands under your skirt, finding your panties and yanking them off. The air was cold against your wetness but you didn’t feel it for long. His hand traced the curve of your butt before grabbing at it roughly.

“You’re so desperate, pretty girl,” He whispered, sliding the tip between your folds, “You’ll let me fuck you here, in public, for anyone to see.”

You couldn’t do much but whimper. The way he could use his words to build you up and simultaneously tear you down was enough to make you push towards him.

He roughly grabbed your butt again, “Oh, very desperate today, aren’t we pretty girl?”

You nodded, but he couldn’t see.

“I said, aren’t we, pretty girl?”

“Yes!” You yelped, “Yes! Please, please, I need you.”

He pushed into you then, leaving no time for adjustment. His hands fit in the dips where your hips met your waist. He started at a brutal pace, your knees rocking back and forth against the rough seats, destined to be cut and bruised tomorrow. You didn’t mind it.

He grabbed your hair again, pulling your head back so he could look at you, “You like that, don’t you? For such a pretty girl, you’re so dirty.”

You nodded, “Only for you.”

The words meant more than you intended them to, but he didn’t notice, too busy palming your ass and muttering insults at you.

You could feel him in your stomach with every thrust, your wetness spreading around, no doubt dripping onto his seats.

“You’re really just a whore, aren’t you? A pretty little whore, but still a whore.”

Your arms were growing weak, unable to hold you up anymore. You slid down onto your elbows from your hands, arching your back as high as you could.

He yanked your hair, the pain melting into pleasure that flooded down your body, “Look at me while I fuck you.”

You turned your head slightly to catch a glimpse of him. He was sweaty, hair stuck to his forehead and beads dripping down his face. His shirt was half unbuttoned, a peek of skin poking out, tie undone lying across his shoulders. His sleeves were rolled up, exposing the veins that line his arms and hands.

He looked like a God.

You turned back around, not able to handle the feeling in your chest in conjunction with the feeling in your lower belly.

“I’m close,” You muttered between groans, Spencer taking his fingers to your puffy clit and drawing fast figure eights.

“Cum all over me like a good whore. My good whore.”

That was enough to push you over the edge, pulsing and groaning beneath him. With a few extra sloppy thrusts, he was pulling out and cumming all over your ass.

You sighed, feeling the high that always came with him, but the low that always came the second he left.

You didn’t move. He was opening the glove box in search of tissues, wiping himself and you off before fixing your skirt.

He helped you up, knowing that your knees and elbows would be sore from holding yourself up. When you stood, he grabbed your hands to steady you and ran his hands through your hair. You saw that same thing in his eyes again, a lightness that could easily be mistaken for love.

“You know, you really are a pretty girl,” he said, his hand tracing from where he tucked your hair behind your ear to your chin. There he cupped the side of your face softly, pulling you into him for a kiss.

You’d kissed him a million times before, but they were different. They were always hot and heavy and frustrated and passionate. This kiss was light, sweet, kind. The kind that could be mistaken for love.

When he pulled away, you smiled at him.

“I-“ you started, before cutting yourself off. This wasn’t healthy, but if this was what you got, you’d take it. Any time with him was valuable time.

“What? What is it?” His voice was low, the moon above his head.

You blushed, realizing just how close he was to you. You wondered how you’d slept with him many times and this somehow felt more intimate than all of those experiences combined.

“I-we should get home.”

He smiled, “Right.”

When you got in the car, you turned away, knees facing the door. He instinctively put his hand out to find your thigh, but found nothing.

He sighs, “Did I go too far? I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’m so so sorry. I thought you liked–“

You laughed, voice only cracking slightly, “No, you were perfect.”

“Then what’s the problem?” He asked, voice high and nervous, nasally and wary.

“That is the problem,” You sighed, turning to look over at him. Even driving, he was somehow the most beautiful thing to ever grace this earth, “You’re perfect.”

He chuckled lightly, “Far from it.”

You reached out for where his hand was on the stick shift, placing your fingers over his, “Perfect.”

He looked over at you for a moment too long, car swerving as he did so.

You smiled, “Watch the road, Reid.”

He glanced between where his eyes should’ve been and where they wanted to be, “It’s hard to pay attention to the road with you here.”

“Really? Why’s that?” You said, sliding effortlessly back into the usual flirty banter. But the words left unsaid were on the tip of your tongue.

“Because I love you.”

He said it easily, honestly, more like a promise than a proclamation.

You squeezed his hand, the words falling over just as easily, “I love you too.”

He grinned, looking over at you once more, “I mean it. I don’t know when or where or how, but I fell in love with you, pretty girl.”

You leaned over to kiss his cheek, “I don’t know when or where or how, but I fell in love with you too, pretty boy.”

——————

Taglist:)

@slutforthegubes @safertokiss @tomorrowmeansoportunities @fullwattpadmusictree @helloniallslovelies @patronising-raven  @anthoqhila @chocolateflowerzipperbear @imjusthereformggcontent​ @haliekayy​ @drspencerreidscum @youre-a-wallflower-charlie​ @blameitonthenight21​

[honibee-arts]

ship prompts: nielan ageswapped with their brothers?

The first time Nie Mingjue met Lan Xichen, he was a tiny boy holding tight to his stone faced older brothers hand. His tiny arm was almost swallowed by Lan Wangji's enormous, flowing sleeves. He stood at his brothers side, his honey eyes wide and curious as they peered at Mingjue, studying him curiously.

"Come on didi, say hello to Xichen." His da ge urged quietly, a gentle hand on his back as he clung to the olive and grey silk of his skirts, trying not to pick at the glittering gold embroidered into the fabric.

"H-Hello..." He mumbled.

"Introduce yourself." Huaisang said softly, gently patting his head.

"M... Don't want to."

"Forgive me, Wangji, he's very shy. A moment?"

"Mn. Of course."

Mingjue felt his ears burn in embarrassment as his da ge kneeled down in front of him. He looked away from his brother as Huaisang gently took his hands, softly nudging the slight pudge of his cheek with his fan to turn his head back to face him.

"Didi..." He sighed.

"Mm."

"What's wrong, didi? You can talk to your da ge."

Mingjue said nothing, only stared at the ground, tiny fiat's clenched and cheeks puffed.

"Are you nervous?"

"Keeps looking at me..." Mingjue mumbled.

"Hm?"

"He keeps looking at me like I'm weird..."

"Xichen has never really seen anyone outside his sect before, let alone someone outside his sect who his own age. He's just curious."

"Why can't I be with you and Wangji-ge?" Mingjue mumbled.

"Because Wangji-ge and I have boring things to do. Last time that happened you were lonely, so Wangji-ge brought his didi so you two could play together and make friends." Huaisang said gently. "Can you do that for me? Can you play with Xichen today?"

"Mm... Okay. For da ge."

"For da ge? Okay. Can you introduce yourself to Xichen?" Mingjue nodded hesitantly. "Do you still want da ge to hold your hand?" Mingjue nodded again and Huaisang stood up, taking his small hand in his, squeezing lightly.

"Mm... I'm... I'm Nie Mingjue..."

Xichen let go of his brothers hand and held his short arms out in a small bow.

"I am Lan Xichen. It is nice to meet you. I am sorry for upsetting you."

Mingjues brow furrowed as he reached to stop the boy, holding his arms. The white fabric of his robes was soft and warm in Mingjues hands.

"Why are you bowing?"

"For respect. You are the Second Young Master of the Nie sect. Shushu says I must bow to show respect."

"You don't have to bow to me if we're friends. Da ge says friends don't need to how to each other because they respect each other already."

"Oh... Are we...?"

"Friends?"

"Mn."

"Yeah. You're my friend."

".... I've never had a friend before." the little boy looked down, his sad, honeyed eyes staring at his little white boots.

"Well I'm your friend now."

They had played all day, albeit with some encouragement. Mingjue had learned that day that the Lan sect had many rules, and to him they made life sound miserable. What child could be happy if they weren't allowed to run and laugh and climb and fight?

As the evening began to come in, the boys found themselves growing tired. The last thing Mingjue remembered of that day was his da ge draping his outer robe over them as they curled up in his room on one of his large pillows, Xichens head resting on his chest.

Mingjue had been right about the Gusu Lan Sect rules. Studying here was miserable. He missed his home, the comfort of his own bed. He missed his own rules, his own routine. He missed being able to run, train and fight whenever he wanted. If his days were filled with study back in the Unclean Realm then he would practice the saber until the sun had long since set.

The cursed curfew had banned him from such things.

The lectures were long and dull, his only reprive in this nightmare was Xichen. Mingjue rested his cheek on his fist as he huffed, glaring a hole through the row of Jiang disciples blocking Xichen from his view. He never glared at Jiang Yanli, though. The girl was too kind and gentle for that.

Beside his uncle, Lan Wangji stood tall, the newly minted Hanguang Jun a jade pillar of discipline, the picture of the perfect Lan disciple in modest, flowing white and sky blue robes. His hawk-like eyes bore into Mingjue, silently demanding he sit up straight and pay attention, lest he had to punish him.

Mingjue glanced at the soon-to-be sect leader apologetically. The long lectures made him restless and it was easy for his mind to wander. God's, he couldn't wait to get out of here. He checked to see if Lan Wangji was watching him, but his attention had turned to Jin Zixun and his snickering gaggle of Jin disciples, his bright gold eyes burning as he glared at them.

Taking advantage of Lan Wangji's divided attention, he took a small piece of paperman talisman paper and scribbled a message onto it. His da ge was right. It was a good idea to keep some on him during his studies.

He activated it with a thread of qi and checked if anyone was watching before he sent it in Xichens direction. He hid his smile behind his fist as he watched the red paperman dance toward Xichen in the air, perching playfully on his elegant shoulder.

He felt his fingers twitch as its little arm played with his hair, seeing how Xichens lips twitched into a smile as the paperman relayed Mingjues message. Was he... Jealous of his talisman?

No, no, that couldn't be possible-

Xichen laughed softly, smiling at Mingjue so brilliantly it made his cheeks grow hot.

Okay.

Maybe he was jealous of his talisman but... Xichen was so... So... Pretty. He put everyone around him to shame with his radiance. Since they had been reunited here in Gusu after so long, Xichen had grown almost a full head taller than him and had begun to fill out as he entered the later half of adolescence. His shoulders appeared broader under the countless layers of his blue and white robes, tapering at his waist. His face had lost its child-like softness, giving way to the sharp angled features of a man.

Oh.

Oh no.

He was in love with Lan Xichen.

"Nie Mingjue!" Lan Wangji said sharply. Mingjue startled, turning his attention to the glaring First Jade who was crumpling the paperman in his fist.

Mingjue swallowed thickly, looking up at the glaring first jade nervously.

"Yes, Hanguang Jun?"

"You're in for it now." Snorted Nie Zonghui behind him.

"You were passing notes during a lecture. Go to the library pavilion after this lecture and transcribe the disciplines twenty times. I will supervise you myself."

Twenty? That's a little harsh...

Ignoring the whispers around him, Mingjue stood up and brought his arms out to bow to the First Jade.

"Yes Hanguang Jun. My apologies. It will not happen again."

"It better not." Lan Qiren said sharply, narrowing his eyes at Mingjue. "You may be seated."

Mingjue swallowed thickly, nodding as he sat back down. He felt countless eyes on him as he straightened his spine and squared his shoulders, trying to ignore the snickers of the Jin disciples.

"Try not to take it too personally, Nie-Xiong." Jiang Yanli said quietly, looking over at him sympathetically. "Hanguang Jun has always been harsh with his punishments. A-Xian got punished a lot while he was here."

He gave her a grateful nod, turning his attention back to the lecture.

3000 - appreciate the good people.

Mingjues wrist ached after painstakingly coping all 3000 rules twenty times. He withheld a groan as he pit his brush back into the water, grimacing at ink on his hands, unable to wipe it off onto his white robes. He missed his familiar dark grey robes, comfortable and functional rather than the white guest robes he was ordered to wear.

He checked his ink was dry one last time before collecting the copied rules into a pile. He steeled himself as he stood up and walked over to Hanguang Jun.

"Ah... Hanguang Jun..." Mingjue said awkwardly. He felt his blood turn to ice in his veins as he was met with the First Jades cool gold eyes. "I have finished... I hope these are to your satisfaction."

He plucked the copies from his hand, deathly silent as Mingjue bowed, scanning the copies diligently.

"Nie Mingjue."

"Yes, Hanguang Jun?"

"What are your intentions with my didi?"

"E-Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

"Xichens just my friend..."

"Lying is forbidden in Cloud Recesses." Lan Wangji fixed him with a blank stare. Mingjue was beginning to feel an anxious cold sweat run down his spine. "I care very little for things in this world. My didi is one of the things I do care about. If you hurt him, if you even consider an action that may harm him emotionally, physically, mentally or spiritually, I will not hesitate to flay you down to your bones in front of your sect, do you understand me?"

"Y-yes Hanguang Jun." Mingjue mumbled, terrified and bewildered at the monotone delivery of such a violent threat.

"Begone. I have other more pressing matters to attend to than your lacking discipline."

Since the day in the library, Mingjue hadn't exactly avoided Xichen per se, but tried not to linger too closely, out of fear of his brother. Jiang Yanli walked beside him, chatting brightly about her family back in Yunmeng as he nodded and listened. Da ge was quite fond of Jiang Yanli's own gege, and spoke of their times in Gusu often. The Jiang sect heir had been something of a role model to Mingjue growing up, as he was admittedly more disciplined than his da ge and a much stronger cultivator.

He smiled politely as she tittered on brightly, laughing happily as she recounted the memories of her summers back at home. The mention of such things made him miss Qinghe too.

A gaggle of Jin disciples walked by, snickering about something.

"- too plain for the Young Master. I heard she's willing to kiss up to anyone at this rate. Who would want her? It's a pity really, considering how strong her brothers are." a boy from the Jin sect sighed.

"Is Wei Wuxian really her brother though? From what I've heard they seem... Close." another sneered. "She might be like her father... Unfaithful. Impure."

Mingjue shot a glare at the disciples, gritting his teeth and clenching his fists. The small group bunched together and made a startled sound.

"Nie-Xiong, please, its not worth it. It is nothing to worry about. " Jiang Yanli said softly, but the tears collecting in her eyes said otherwise.

"Keep walking you brute." one of the braver disciples snickered. "She knows what she's worth. She doesn't have her precious brothers to protect her now." behind him, Jiang Yanli sniffled softly. "Especially not her precious A-Xi-"

"Jin Zixun, was it?" Lan Xichen interjected, the polite smile ever present on his face but something dark and enraged behind it.

"You should know who you're sitting next to instead of gazing over at that Nie brute like a cut sleeve."

Oh, that was the last straw.

Baxia pulsed on his back, itching to strike and stain the Jin disciples robes with his crimson blood. The blade twitched, rattling in its holster as Mingjue reached for it.

"A-Jue, don't." Xichen urged, stepping between Mingjue and the Jins. "Fighting is forbidden, please. If you let this de-escalate and calm down then I can get Gege and he can punsih them, alright?" Mingjue grit his teeth, glaring at the cowering disciples. "Please."

".... Fine."

"Report to Hanguang Jun for your punishments. You have broken three rules: no gossiping, no use of frivolous words and no arrogance. You are aware of the rules and yet you have broken them, therefore you must be punished." He said firmly, towering over the Jin disciples who quickly ran off. "Anyway. Gege has heard reports of water ghouls in Biling Lake. He was wondering if you would accompany us on a night hunt, Mingjue-Xiong."

"Water ghouls? A-Xian and A-Cheng could be of help. They're not too far from Gusu and they have lots of experience with water ghouls. They're very common in Yunmeng."

Xichen grinned, laughing softly to himself.

"Yes, I'm sure they'll be of much assistance." He said lightly. Jiang Yanli laughed gently.

"I feel as though I am missing something here."

"You'll see, Mingjue-Xiong. You'll see."

"LAN ZHAAAAAN!" Wei Wuxian screeched as he launched himself at Lan Wangji, throwing his arms around the First Jade.

He had heard tales of the Yunmeng Jiang first Disciple endlessly teasing Lan Wangji, but this happened to be something else... Something more personal as he watched Wei Wuxian wind himself around the statuesque form of Xichens Gege.

"Wei Ying. We are on a night hunt. Behave accordingly."

"He's never behaved accordingly in his life." Jiang Wanyin snorted, folding his arms. "Why is he here? There's no rivers or lakes in Qinghe. I doubt he can swim. His brother couldn't."

"I invited Mingjue-Xiong along so he could gain experience in things like this. Its important to have a broad scope of abilities as a cultivator." Xichen said brightly, humming as he twirled his xiao between his fingers.

Mingjue felt his cheeks burn as Xichen beamed at him. He inhaled deeply and hoped he didn't screw up this whole night hunt.

The water finally settled as the vortex closed, the boats rocking under his feet, causing his stance to waver. He gasped as he stumbled back, colliding with Xichens chest as his arms wrapped around him, steadying him.

"Mingjue-Xiong, are you alright?" Xichen asked, holding him by his waist.

"Hm? Yes, yes I..." I'm trying not to focus on the way you're holding me. Or how beautiful you look when you're a little wet. You're just beautiful. I think I love you.

"You're all wet. Let's get out of here so we can stop to change at the tavern, alright?"

"A-alright."

"Didi." His da ge called from the shade of his seat on the deck surrounding the courtyard, watching diligently as Mingjue moved through sword forms.

"Yes, da ge?" Mingjue replied, flicking his hair off his bare shoulder as the sun bore down on his skin while he trained.

"When were you going to tell me you had a crush on Lan Xichen?" He asked slowly.

"I-I don't!" Mingjue said too quickly, his face flushing rapidly as he whirled around at his brother.

"Your lips say one thing, your body, heart and mind say another. Even your core yearns for him, didi."

"Aiya... Leave me alone... There's no point. I can't have him." He sighed, pointing his blade down into the stone beneath his feet, leaning against the rounded pommel.

"Why not?" Huaisang asked, gently fluttering his fan.

"He's Lan Xichen." Mingjue replied, stating the obvious.

"And you are Nie Mingjue. You are not sect leaders. He is not a sect heir. Union between two men is uncommon but not unheard of."

"So you're, what, asking me to march to Cloud Recesses and demand Lan Xichens hand in marriage from his uncle and gege because of some childish crush?"

"Didi. I brushed off my feelings about Jiang-Xiong like this. Did I love him? Yes. I called it a childish crush to protect myself. When Ba... Joined Mama and A-Niang... I knew not only could I take another sect leader as my husband, but I could not have any weakness. That is why I pushed you to be as strong as you are. You are my weakness, but you can protect yourself. I have my regrets... All I wish is to ensure you do not have to live with yours."

[chokemeanakin]

Would you write another fluffy Obi piece?? Cause I absolutely fell in love with your first one and that man needs more love shown to him 😫 What about taking care of a sick, tired Obi after a mission?

Thank you for the request! Hopefully it lives up to the first Obi fic I did, idk all I can say is that as an Anakin writer, I tried my best 😅. Enjoy! ❤️

WC: 2.3k

Masterlist

You Can Rest Now- Obi-Wan Kenobi x gn Reader

You had told him to bring that extra fleece jacket. And those thermal gloves, and the hat that covered his ears, and the scarf that wrapped around his mouth and nose, and the insulated boots, and the chill-resistant underpants--

Obviously he hadn’t listened to you.

You were on the rescue craft sent to pick up Obi-Wan and a few of his men, who had been stranded on Hoth after a group of Wampa ate his transport ship for lunch. A rescue had been deployed immediately-- being out in the cold of Hoth for too long was deadlier than a lightsaber through the chest. 

Maybe not necessarily that deadly… but with the way your heart was hammering against your ribcage as you scanned the snowy slopes for any sign of your Jedi lover, it might as well be.

He had been gone for little over a week now, hopping from planet to planet, trying to track down the plans for a secret Separist weapon. And although there had been times when he was gone for even longer, your pulse still jumped when you spotted the small black dots on the horizon. You could feel him, and your heart reached out for him with each second the ship grew closer. 

You were the first one down the loading ramp when it descended, still zipping up the heavy jacket as the harsh wind blew the fur-lined hood off your head. The cold was paralyzing. Just the first couple seconds of being in it was like a slap in the face, and it took a moment before you could remember how to function again. 

You and the group of medics and rescue workers trudged through the thick snow and began to get to work helping frost-bitten and hypothermic men into the ship. You twisted and turned, squinting your eyes behind people’s masks to try and find the only one you were here for--

“You’re here,” you whipped around, the voice warming you to the tips of your fingers despite the frigid cold.

“Obi-Wan!”

In the circumstance that you two were alone, you would have run to him and crushed him to you in a big hug. Alas, you were not alone, and there were eyes on you two, so you had to instead shift uncomfortably on your feet, scanning your eyes up and down his figure to search for injuries.

He didn’t seem to be sick like a lot of his men, but then again it was hard to see anything despite the layers he was wearing. All that was visible to you was a thin strip of fair skin, interrupted by the azure of his eyes. You took his gloved hand and began tugging him toward the ship.

“You must be freezing,” you stated dumbly, mind still trying to work through the sludge of ice your brain was forming into. “I’ve only been out here for a few minutes, and you’ve been here for.. what... hours? I knew you should have worn those chill-resistant Tauntaun ponchos, but no. They looked “tacky and ridiculous”. Isn’t that what you said over hologram? Only you would choose fashion over safety. I bet you regret it now, huh?”

“Does working your mouth keep you warm?” Obi-Wan quipped. There was no resistance as he let you drag him into the ship, ushering him to your personal quarters. “If so, continue on my behalf. I would hate to see you catch a cold.”

“Oh, I will,” you promised. “Just as soon as I make sure your limbs aren’t going to fall off first. Sit.”

Obi-Wan’s icy eyes glanced wearily to the couch. “I’m all wet. I’ll soil the cushions.”

“Sit.”

He lowered himself onto the couch clumsily, heaving out a breath as he did so. This worried you. Nothing Obi-Wan ever did was anything less than elegant-- even when he was beating the shit out of that four-armed robot with tuberculosis, he did so with the practiced grace of a lithe panther. 

You began with his hands, removing the multiple layers of gloves and throwing them in a wet pile on the floor. When you finally found skin, you were relieved to see that none of his fingers were black, but you still didn’t like the blue and purple tint they had to them. 

You gathered his larger hands in yours, trying to squeeze some warmth back into them, and blew hot breath into your cupped palms. Then you got to work taking his hat off, the scarves, the layers and layers of jackets… it was a process to say the least, and when you were done, you were left with a shivering Obi-Wan in nothing but a skin-tight blacksuit, and a huge pile of sopping wet clothing on the floor.

“I-in a way,” his teeth chattered as chills began to rack his body, “Being n-numb was better than… was better than t-this.”

“It’s a sign that you’re warming up,” you skimmed your fingers across his cheekbone, gaging his temperature. Still ice-cold to the touch, and the white tint to his lips was more than a little alarming. You frowned, then quickly moved away to start a warm shower in the fresher. 

You turned in time to see Obi-Wan struggle to push himself to his feet, failing and falling back against the cushions before succeeding on his second attempt. Now that his face was void of any coverings, you realized just how tired and sickly he looked.

“Did any of the medics check you before I dragged you away?” you asked, narrowing your eyes at the pale pallor of his usually golden skin. Even the sandy strawberry of his hair seemed to wilt, as if the color had been swallowed up by the stark, barren landscape outside.

“I’m alright, d-darling. You’ll come to f-find that I am p-pretty resilient.”

“Pretty resilient my ass, Obi-Wan,” you rolled your eyes. “Someday, your loftiness is going to get you into real trouble.”

“M-my loftiness?”

“And if it’s not that, it’s going to be because you never take care of yourself,” you ignore him, checking the water with your fingertips.  “You’re too damn selfless, is what you are. You don’t realize other people can wait, and don’t need your unbridled attention every second of every day. Yes, there’s a war out there, but you deserve to be saved too.”

In all honesty, you didn’t really mean to begin lecturing him. You were panicked, not liking how quiet and subservient Obi-Wan was being. There was definitely something wrong with him, and running your mouth distracted you from the possibility that maybe he was injured and was hiding it from you, or maybe something happened that triggered that glassy look in his eyes, or maybe he was actually very sick and slipping between your fingers and you didn’t even realize it…

Obi-Wan sensed your panic, too. Ice met your cheek, and he turned your face to look at him.

“Hush, darling,” his cool breath washed over your face like a gust of flurry-speckled wind. “You’re w-working yourself up over n-nothing. I’ll be alright, I p-promise.”

You zipped your mouth closed and nodded. The bags under his eyes were dark, and you were kicking yourself for adding to them. The last thing he needed on his plate was more stress, especially coming from the person who was supposed to be his oasis of love and comfort. You leaned up and placed your lips over his, aiming to kiss some color back into them. 

“My apologies,” you spoke against the coolness of his mouth. “The water’s hot. You can get in now.”

You left Obi-Wan to shower, throwing all of his clothes into the hamper to be taken away for washing. A protocol droid dropped off a new pair of loose fitting sleepwear and Jedi apparel for tomorrow, as well as extra blankets and some warm foods which you had specially requested.

Steam billowed out of the fresher when Obi-Wan emerged, wrapping him in a ghostly embrace. His skin was covered head to toe in goosebumps, and although a little color had returned to his skin, it still looked as if every step took a huge effort. He sat on the chair by the desk, a towel tied around his waist and another working through the dripping hair on his head. He shivered when he felt your hand on his back, slipping the sleep clothes into his lap.

He got changed as you made the bed with all the blankets and set out the food on a bed tray. When you turned and saw that he was all dressed, you immediately took a fluffy blanket and wrapped it around his shoulders, hugging it into his back.

Obi-Wan laughed breathily, a hand coming up to hold yours over his shoulder, stroking your knuckles with his thumb.

“I appreciate the sentiment,” he said, “But this might be a bit overkill.”

There it was. The nasally sound in his voice. The bleary eyes. The slight sniffle, and the rasp of air scraping into his lungs as he breathed. The precursor to a deep, crackling cough. The bastard was sick, you knew it--

Your hand slammed into the protocol message button.

“RA-7, please send up some cold medicine. And a crowbar while you’re at it, there’s someone I need to bludgeon with it--”

“Y/n,” Obi-Wan groaned. He stood and dropped the blanket from around him like he had done with his robes before battle one too many times, turning to face you in exasperation. “I’m okay, it’s just a little cold. I’ll be better by the time we touch down in Coruscant.”

“Not if you don’t keep this blanket on, you won’t,” you retrieved it from the floor and tossed it around his shoulders again. Then you pushed at his shoulders to get him to sit on the bed, piling blankets higher and higher onto him until all that was visible was his annoyed face and the wet strands of his honey toned hair. A strand of his bangs had fallen into his eyes, so you smoothed it back from his forehead and replaced it with your lips. 

Then you reached for the tray of food and set it atop the mountain of blankets that were smothering Obi-Wan.

“I do hope you’re not planning on spoon-feeding me,” he said.

You were, but then the door buzzed,and you knew the cold medicine was here. You left the tray of food to retrieve the package from the protocol droid, and came back to find Obi-Wan sitting up, still almost being swallowed by blankets, but now carefully spooning soup into his mouth. He was taking care of himself, and the sight dissolved your panic and warmed your heart.

You dropped another roll of bread onto his tray before opening the cold medicine, shaking a couple pills into your palm and handing them off to Obi-Wan, who for once had no witty remarks. 

You sat on the bed next to him then, making sure he had the good pillows before turning to find Obi-Wan holding a piece of bread out for you. You shook your head, pushing it back towards him.

“You eat, I’m fine.”

“Y/n, my love, it’ll make me feel better if you eat as well.”

There was Obi-Wan. Even sick and tired and on the edge of hypothermia, he was still looking out for others. So selfless, so giving, so good. You took the bread and bit into it to make him happy.

Once you had finished the bread, he began passing you various other tidbits of food even though you insisted you had already eaten. Meanwhile, he could only manage half the soup before he became too tired to continue. You took the tray away and set it on the bedside table, then turned the lights down and got into bed beside him again.

“Are you warm now?” you smoothed your hands through his damp hair as he lay back on the pillows, sighing deeply at the soft touch.

“Very.”

He was still sniffling a bit, and the raspiness of his breath was increasing with each minute. But he was on the verge of sleep, and rest was exactly what he needed to feel better. 

You set your head down on the pillow next to him, ghosting your fingers over the delicate skin of his closed eyelids, down the slope of his cheekbone, caressing the downy hairs of his beard. He nuzzled his face into the warmth of your palm, inching closer to you.

“You can rest now,” you told him, and he hummed sluggishly in response.

Despite the sheer amount of blankets on him, Obi-Wan began to shiver once more. You’re not sure if the bone-deep cold was setting in again or if it had something to do with his illness, but he kept shifting toward you, yearning for more of your touch.

You took the hint, slipping under the blankets yourself and wrapping your arms around his quivering body the best you could. To see this man-- this renowned Jedi Master, General of the 212th legion of the Republic army, and prominent hero of the Clone Wars-- so weak and fragile and wilting under your touch… it broke fissures into your heart. You tightened your hold on him, crushing him against your body like you could absorb all of his pains and woes and replace them with warmth and comfort instead.

You felt down the length of his arm, up and down, up and down, and with each pass you tried to memorize every dip and curve of his body beneath you. You were hoping to rub some warmth back into him this way, or at least soothe him to sleep if all else proved fruitless, and it seemed to be working. After a while, his shivers subsided and the fingers clinging to the shirt on your back relaxed, as did his face.

He was peaceful now, breathing deep and even as he got the rest he rightfully deserved. You held him close to you, wishing for time to slow so that he could stay with you like this forever.

[johnny-and-dora]

sunny one so true, i love you

as a long, hot summer draws to a close, jake is determined to make sure mac has the best first beach trip a toddler has ever experienced. (written for @undead-thot-hours as part of the b99 summer 2020 fic exchange, i hope you like it!) @b99fandomevents

read on ao3 -

Ideally, living in Brooklyn in the middle of the summer would be perfect. There’d be some kind of ice coffee river Willy Wonka stylez that Jake could wade into, functioning air conditioning on demand and plenty of opportunities for him to up his sunglasses game and practise some cool new moves to impress the squad.

In reality, it costs like $12 for one tiny cup of iced coffee, and the air conditioning at the precinct is constantly on the fritz. He can’t even practise any cool sunglasses moves because one of Mac’s current favourite pastimes is taking either of his parent’s eyewear and lovingly slobbering all over it. It’s kind of a bummer - but also, like everything his son does, extremely cute, so Jake doesn’t really mind. The great picture he got of Mac wearing his sunglasses makes it worth it.

It’s been a long, long summer filled with paperwork and overtime instead of getting to hang out with his beautiful family all the time, which is the real bummer. So, when Amy suggested they take advantage of their shared Sunday off to take Mac to Brighton Beach for the first time, he’d responded with trademark enthusiasm.

Which was then later followed by abject panic, because Jake kinda sorta forgot that he’s not the beaches biggest fan.

It’s not like he’s some kind of beach hater, because that’s like hating summer or holidays or fun and Jake loves all of those things. It’s just that his lasting childhood memories of the beach are less than rosy. They mostly include him getting super sunburnt, dropping his ice-cream in the sand, or getting buried alive by Gina. None of them make him feel particularly good, and he doesn’t particularly want to pass that not-good feeling down to his son by ruining Mac’s first beach experience.

So many things could go wrong. What if a seagull steals his food, or his ball gets lost at sea? What if his favourite toy gets all sandy and ruined? What if a seagull steals him, and Jake’s powerless to do anything but watch?

To cut a long week of worrying about increasingly improbable scenarios short, this beach trip has to go well. In fact, Jake’s general brain weirdness and a strong desire to be a good dad means this needs to be the best beach trip a toddler has ever experienced in the history of beach trips. It’s the least he can do for Mac.

So, he invites Charles and Nikolaj along and buys Mac a cute little bucket and spade and the four of them build a really epic sandcastle while Amy gets a rare chance to peacefully catch up on some reading. They paddle in the sea a little, Mac clinging to Jake the whole time because the water’s so cold, and Jake snaps a photo of the three of them with ice cream that is definitely lockscreen worthy. Charles even takes the kids for a bit so Jake and Amy can have some precious alone time soaking in the sun.

It may not be perfect – Mac gets very upset when he can’t see any dolphins (which Jake would be disappointed by too, to be honest) and somehow he gets sand absolutely everywhere which he’s definitely going to traipse back into the apartment. But he seems happy, and Amy is happy, and that means that Jake is happy too.

“Did you have fun today, Mac?” Amy asks, wrapping him up tight in his beach towel and trying to brush some of the sand out of his hair. Their little boy nods enthusiastically, his curls bouncing everywhere as he climbs up on to Jake’s lap.

“This is the best day ever!” He says, slightly muffled as he sticks his thumb in his mouth, and Jake’s heart swells. Mission accomplished. He looks to Amy, who’s hair is even shiner than usual as she’s bathed in sunlight, her pretty sundress flapping around her legs. She gets more and more beautiful every single day.

“Hey, Ames, you look like a mermaid.” He says, grinning fondly at his wife. He gently pokes Mac to get his attention. “Doesn’t mommy look like a beautiful mermaid, Mac? Like she could be queen of the seahorses or something cool like that.”

“I know about seahorses!” Mac pipes up, which wasn’t exactly what he was going for but endearing, nonetheless. Camilla and Victor gifted him a book about animals for Christmas last year and he’s been parroting random trivia from it for months, as if they needed more proof that he’s half-Santiago. “They live in the sea and they’re not even horses, they’re fish.” He says matter-of-factly, wriggling in Jake’s lap.

“That’s right, baby.” Amy says warmly, gently stroking his curls and grinning at Jake when their eyes meet. Their kid is going to be the most insufferable know-it-all in his class, and they’re already so proud of him.

“Hey bud, did you see any seahorses in the sea?” Jake asks (He knows it’s unlikely, but it would be super awesome). Mac shakes his head. His face falls for a second and Jake worries that he’s going to have to go on some impossible heroic seahorse quest before his eyes light up again.

“Uncle Charles and Niko caught a crab though! It was all pinchy and angry!”

“Cool, like Sebastian?” Mac nods fervently and Jake grins, humming a few notes of ‘Under The Sea’. He makes a mental note to put The Little Mermaid on as soon as they get home – it’s on theme, has a great soundtrack and won’t make any of them cry too hard, which is a win in Jake’s book.

Mac is squirming in his lap again, so Jake lets him down. It warms his heart watching his son totter about on the sand wrapped in an R2-D2 beach towel, singing ‘Under The Sea’ to himself (except really, he’s just babbling the chorus over and over again). God, he loves this kid. His dad Spidey-senses kick in when Mac bends down to pick up a pebble, though, knowing it’s probably going directly into his mouth, so he racks his brain for cool seahorse facts to try and distract him.

“Hey Mac, did you know that it’s actually the daddy seahorses that carry the babies around in their tummies?”

“No way!” Mac says, the pebble instantly forgotten, and Jake knows he will never get tired of watching his son learn new things about the world every single day.

“Uh-huh.” Jake nods, and for effect, grabs a nearby beachball and stuffs it under his T-shirt while Mac laughs. “What do you think, little man? Would I make a good seahorse?”

Mac shakes his head, grinning toothily. “That’s silly, daddy.”

Jake smiles proudly – he may be pretty proud of his many accomplishments as a highly decorated detective, but nothing makes him feel prouder than when he makes the most important, treasured people in his life laugh. “Yeah? Well, I am pretty silly. That’s like, the thing I’m totally best at and have won a lot of silly awards for.”

“And blanket forts! And storytime! You’re the best daddy!” Mac says, running up to present the pebble to him, and Jake gets a little misty. He can see Charles also getting misty out of the corner of his eye, but that’s actually pretty toned down by his standards. He accepts the pebble and bends down to pick Mac up and spin him around, the two of them laughing, and knows he has nothing to be worried about. Not even the world’s biggest seagull could swoop in and ruin this day.

Jake may be a just a little sunburnt, and his grand dreams of an iced coffee river may be unfortunately impossible to fulfil. But he’s here, with his gorgeous, amazing wife and their equally amazing son, and has to admit the beach isn’t so bad. As long as he has his family beside him, any summer in Brooklyn seems pretty much perfect.

[ambientstars]

If you could please try with this prompt - “Sleep over? Please?” With 13 and it’s be soft and fluffy. Maybe after a hard adventure or whatever you think is best 💜

Thank you for the request:) 

Warnings: mentions of abuse and blood 

-    -    -

“Doctor please, no!” Your fingers clutched her coat, your whole body weighing down on it to keep her from moving. “Please don’t leave me with him!”

She smiled calmly. It was probably supposed to be reassuring, but it was far from it. “I’ll be five minutes, that’s all I need. I just need you to stay and distract him.”

Tears brimmed your eyes, your bottom lip wobbling. You’d never been without The Doctor before and it felt all too much for the first time to be left alone with The Master.

Yet again he was putting the world in danger and The Doctor had been quick to follow his path which had led you to his makeshift home that he had made in the ruins of a once beautiful castle that he had no doubt destroyed himself.

The Doctor’s plan was to distract The Master from whatever vile plan he was conjuring up next whilst she ran back to the TARDIS to do… something. That part had been unclear to you as soon as she said you’d be staying behind.

“Do you trust me?”

You looked at her for a moment that seemed to last forever, your vision blurred by tears. Your grip on her coat loosened slowly, allowing her to move freely again. “Yes.”

“Five minutes. I promise.”

And with that she turned and ran in the opposite direction, slipping out of view when she turned the corner.

“Well, what do we have here?”

You quickly wiped away the hot tear that fell down your face at the sound of The Master’s voice. You faced him and drew in a steadying breath, ready to be the distraction you needed to be.

Five minutes.

Five minutes of talking, keeping him busy. That’s all you had to do.

-    -

The familiar sound of whirring woke you from your restless sleep, the ache in your back and the chill of the cold ground was an instant reminder of the situation you were currently in.

The tightly locked chains around your ankles stung against the wounds they had rubbed into your skin, the sound of them on the floor of stone rung in your ears like they did every time you moved.

You focussed on the sound, welcoming the distraction from the pain that radiated throughout your body, hoping to forget it all together, even just for a minute.

The blue box The Doctor travelled in began to materialise in front of you, the flashing light on the top was almost too bright in the dimly lit room you’d spent most of your days in.

With a final clunk of settling in place, the door to the box flew open, even more light flooding into the room making your eyes squint.

The Doctor stepped out in a hurry, a big adrenaline filled smile on her face, her knees bent slightly so she was primed to run on a moment’s notice.

Her smile faltered when she saw you on the ground, tucked in the corner, battered and broken. As quick as a flash she was on her knees in front of you, hands outstretched as if she wanted to touch you, but restrained herself in fear of hurting you further.

“What…?” Her eyes looked you up and down several times, her brilliant mind not quite comprehending what she was looking at. “How…?”

A lump formed in your throat, painful and hard to swallow past. Within seconds you were feeling every emotion possible, ranging from relief and happiness that The Doctor was here, and sadness, betrayal and hurt that she’d left you behind to fend for yourself - albeit poorly.

“I was only gone for-“

“Months.” Your voice was croaky, your throat strained and dry from the lack of water you’d been given by The Master. “You’ve been gone for months.”

The Doctor’s mouth flapped open and closed in confusion and shock, unable to find the right words to say at the news.

Time travel was tricky and almost never straight forward, even just a quick, seemingly easy trip would often result in landing in the completely wrong time and destination.

The TARDIS tried her best to get wherever The Doctor demanded to go, but time lords weren’t much good at being pilots and what good is a time machine without a decent driver? After all she was stolen, destroyed and tinkered with so often, she was hardly herself anymore and the steering was a little off now. Although she tried her best, sometimes she just couldn’t get it right and this time just so happened to be one of those unfortunate times.

From the hallway, the sound of The Master’s footsteps in his heavy boots echoed all the way into the room you’d been held captive in.

The Doctor looked towards to locked door and then back at you. Her first concern was to break you out of the chains round your ankles and take you back to safety in the TARDIS.

She pulled her sonic from her coat pocket and waved it over the locks, her brows furrowed in concentration. She mumbled to the sonic in her hand to work faster, The Master’s footsteps getting louder as he got closer to the room.

With a clang of metal on stone, the chains came loose and fell to the floor, releasing you from their previously unrelenting grip.

The Doctor scooped you up in her arms and turned, running back into the TARDIS as quickly as her legs could take her. She kicked a lever on the console as she ran past it, the time machine coming to life and beginning the process of her primary function, The Master’s yell of anger that you had gotten away was heard clearly through the halls.

You were hastily taken to the medbay, where you were carefully placed on a not-so-comfortable bed and stared at by The Doctor. You felt self conscious, laying there completely vulnerable and helpless, covered in cuts and bruises that would heal as scars to remind you of your torment.

Although she called herself the Doctor, she didn’t have much of a clue as to how to help you and your injuries. The TARDIS hummed her guidance, telepathically speaking to the timelord and instructing her on how to clean and dress your wounds.

Through the whimpers and muffled cries of pain behind your hand, you were glad that the suffering was finally over and you could now begin to relax in the safe company of The Doctor and her blue box.

-    -

You hadn’t said much since you had been rescued, your throat strained and your head pounding, but even if you had wanted to say something, The Doctor wouldn’t have allowed you to get a word in edgewise. She kept repeating herself over and over, saying she was sorry and trying to explain that sometimes timelines get confused and she ends up in the wrong times and places.

She exhausted her apologies, pleaded on her knees for you to forgive her, but of course you did. You’d forgive her for anything in a heartbeat and accidentally leaving you behind in the hands of a monster for months was no exception.

Warm soapy water ran over your shoulders and trickled down your arms, cleaning away the dirt and dried blood in it’s path.

The Doctor pushed the sponge back under the water you were sitting in for a moment until it had absorbed as much as it could, then brought it up to continue washing you.

Your bruised knees were tightly pressed against your chest, your chin resting on them, your arms wrapped around your legs. Despite the fact that you were totally naked in front of The Doctor for the first time ever, the atmosphere in the room was calm and you felt guarded and finally free from danger for the first time in months, and she didn’t mention anything about your nakedness, making you feel somewhat at ease.

Memories of the countless days you’d been under The Master’s control came flooding back in as soon as you let your guard down and the sob that ripped up your throat was unexpected, surprising both of you.

You cried helplessly in the tub, the water vibrating against you as your body shook. The Doctor moved your hair away from the back of your neck and planted soft kisses there in the hopes of bringing you comfort. You’d be lying if you said they didn’t, but that still didn’t cease the crying.

“I’m so sorry, really I am.”

You grabbed a hold of the hand that fell to your knee, gripping it tightly in yours almost as if it would keep you grounded somehow.

The Doctor wrapped her other arm around you, effectively holding you in an awkwardly positioned hug, dismissing the fact that you were wet and naked, and she was dry and fully clothed. She laid her head on top of yours and rocked you gently as you continued to sob deeply, just letting you do so for as long as you needed and being by your side the entire time.

-    -

You sat on your bed with your legs crossed, The Doctor in the same position right behind you.

After helping you get out the tub and assisting you in getting dried and dressed in the softest pyjamas you owned, she insisted on brushing your hair out for you. It had become a devastatingly tangled mess after months of not brushing it, but The Doctor combed through it gently and patiently, her eyes narrowed in concentration so as not to hurt you anymore than you already were.

You had finally managed to pull yourself together and stop crying, but now your eyes were puffy and your cheeks red, exhaustion rapidly overwhelming you.

“I’m tired.” Your voice was weak, but The Doctor heard you perfectly.

With a few final strokes of the brush, your hair was finally knot free and feeling like silk, something you didn’t ever think you’d come to appreciate so much until now.

The Doctor laid you down in your bed, covering you with the sheets up to your chin and smiled softly as she moved a few stray hairs away from your tired eyes.

“Get some sleep. I’ll be right in the other room if you need me for anything, just shout and I’ll be right here.”

You smiled back as best you could. It felt good to smile again, your chest filling with a warmth you hadn’t felt in a very long time.

Just as The Doctor stood to leave, you grabbed her hand and pulled her back. “Sleep over? Please?”

She nodded once and climbed into the bed with you, waiting to hold you tightly as you readjusted yourself to rest your head on her chest, your arms around her and hers around you.

“You’ll never let anyone hurt you ever again, I swear.” The vibration of her words rumbled in your ear. Her thumb stroked back and forth on your back, your muscles relaxing under it. “I’ll never leave you behind. I’ll keep you by my side always.”

“Promise?”

She held you even tighter and although your battered body ached at the affection, you forced yourself to keep quiet in fear of ruining the moment.

“I promise.”

[bleak-midwinter-snow]

At his bedside

Notes: Free continuation of A Candle on the bedside table, though you don’t have to read it to enjoy this (though I’d be happy if you did because I enjoyed writing that one, haha). Again very vague but with Tommy in mind so hints on Grace, nightmares and all the angst with hopeful ending. After writing this I feel like I should have left the oneshot alone but here we are anyway! Next time I will write something that actually uses names for once.

And again, English is not my first language so I apologise if something sounds off. Enjoy!

—–

She knew he had nightmares. Some nights were just worse than others.

At the beginning, when he slept most of the time due to pain medication and exhaustion, they were the worst. She would find him thrashing in bed, making his wounds bleed all over again and when he finally woke up, he had that look on his face - eyes wide but glazed over, like a veil, as if he did not really see what was in front of him. Sweat dripping from his temples, hair sticking to his forehead. If his voice was not lost, he called her by a name that was not hers. She was gentle with him, swiping hair out of his eyes and cradling his face, whispering words of reassurance and when he calmed down a bit and his breathing evened out, off she went to grab a washcloth and new bandages.

Sometimes he was already sleeping when she returned but most of the time he was somewhere in his delirium. Mumbling things almost inaudibly, things that made sense to no one but himself. She saw him like this almost every night and she had to admit to herself that despite being familiar with these states, somewhere in the far corner of her soul, the sight made her heart wrench. She didn’t let that be known though, for she knew he needed help, not her pity.

Time had passed, the morphine had been left out of his prescriptions. It didn’t do him good, he said, nor was it helping with pain anymore. Things went by. His eyes weren’t hazy anymore but they looked empty, lifeless. She knew he wasn’t alright but she did what she could. Kept showing up at his house, helping him out to get back on track again, become functional enough to slowly go back to everyday life and making sure he didn’t do anything reckless. And the biggest surprise for her was that along the way, he didn’t protest much. He let her help him and she appreciated that.

But now it felt like they were taken back to the start. He fell ill with a horrible fever after the weekend he decided he wanted to be alone and scared her out of her mind when she found his house empty. Going out in pouring rain in nothing but his shirt and trousers, that was an impulse he took upon and didn’t return until almost sunset. So much for preventing him from doing anything reckless, though despite the worry for the man she took care of every day for the last couple of months, it felt like a right thing to do at the time. She’d been around for so long, it was about time he started being alone again, do things his way. It was just for one weekend, she told herself. And yet... so here she was again, at his bedside with a cold towel to put on his forehead.

Fever nights brought back fever nightmares. The sight of his unconscious suffering didn’t get any better over the months and the inexplicable dread in her stomach almost made her hand shake when she gently put it on his shoulder, whispering his name. He didn’t talk about what he saw in his nightmares often but when he did, there were no words that would form a proper reply, so she almost always resolved into the comfort of silence and making a cup of hot cocoa or milk with honey. After a few tries, he finally opened his eyes, jolting awake.

She expected him to call her the another’s woman name again but he only sat there, eyes wide, shivering.

“It’s okay, you are okay,” she whispered, one hand on his forehead, the other on his cheek. He was burning and his night shirt was soaking wet with cold sweat. She gave him a minute to recollect himself, even his breathing out before he fell back to the pillow with a deep sigh.

“You have to change out of the shirt, it’s drenched.”

As she was pulling him to sit up, he suddenly wrapped his hands around her and buried his face into her dress. It caught her by surprise but she let him.

“You are the only fucking thing left.”

She knew he was not talking to her. But she said nothing. As soon as he had a dry shirt on and ice-cold towel over his eyes, she left the room, her stomach sunken low.

***

She barely slept that night but it wasn’t because of his fever. It was her own mind, thinking about the way he acted towards her since he returned from his walk, the way she unknowingly let this behaviour affect her. That was another reason why his words over breakfast caught her unprepared.

“I meant it, you know,” he said, looking at her and she felt like he is seeing right into that hidden corner of her soul she was trying so hard to silence, “You are the only one I have left.”

She hated how these words made her feel. She knew he is vulnerable and he says things he doesn’t necessary mean. She saw it, time and time again with soldiers and heavily medicated patients, confessing their never-ending love and affection for her when she was tending to their wounds or ruffling their pillows.

But when he said it, it was worse. There was this inner conflict she inflicted upon herself, how she let her boundaries be pushed further, despite knowing how these things go. She knew, deep down, that even the kiss he gave her when he returned from his wandering wasn’t exactly what it seemed like. It was tender. It was painful.

She let him though. She let him rest in her arms, let him find comfort with her but deep down she knew he was a broken man and she was slipping, the same way he was slipping in the middle of the night when he woke up from a horrible dream with hazy eyes. And that was on her - she could only blame herself she felt this way about him.

“It was you why I returned.”

“… what?”

He was looking out of the kitchen window into the distance. The day was gloomy but it stopped raining at last. She didn’t notice.

“At first, I saw her. It’s always her. She keeps telling me things, you know. But not this time. She didn’t know me. As if I was a stranger.”

A beat of silence.

“But then, it was you. It was you who was talking.”

She had no idea what to say.

“I knew you would never let me do anything I did that day. So, I have returned. And you were here.” His voice was raspy and she couldn’t bring herself to focus her eyes on him.

“You came.”

“Maybe you should return to bed before you get too exhausted, you still have a fever.”

Her mind was set on default by his words. She heard what he said but she couldn’t process it. He was still sitting there, looking at her, lips slightly parted, not even blinking. The silence lasted almost forever, like time had slowed down. Now it was her who felt like in an altered reality, a fever dream.

“Maybe you are right. Maybe I am too exhausted. Tired of all of these things. Or, just too sober on most days to say any of this shit out loud. Maybe that’s the fuckin truth.”

“You are not yourself, maybe after- “

“There’s no after. Nothing changes.”

He was looking at her. Eyes clear, still no spark in them still but neither the haze, just the underlying shade of pain and heaviness. She could see his hands shaking.

“What is it you want to tell me, then?”

“The truth is, there was something about that walk. Made me realize a few things.”

“What is it?”

“I want you by my side.”

Silence.

“You’ve seen the side of me very few have seen before. But you didn’t back away to comfortable distance. You didn’t leave the moment your job was done.” She saw him standing up and walking towards her but she did not move, she was frozen in place, heart pounding loudly in her chest.

“I wanted to push you away but I never could bring myself to do it. Because it was your hands that held my face when I woke up in the middle of the night.”

He stood there, the same way he stood when he came back that evening. Same look on his face, the only thing missing was the pouring rain outside and silent water droplets hitting the floor.

“The truth is, I grew weak. I grew weary and tired. And at this point, I don’t think I can recover,” he put his hands on her shoulders and it brought her partly back to reality.

“I can help you,” she heard herself whisper and she knew she is quickly approaching the line she was so wary of. He shook his head, eyes focused on her.

“That’s not what I am asking.”

She felt a wave of chill running down her spine. She was trying to avoid exactly this, this situation. She was trying but she fucked up. After so much time and experience doing this, she let herself get too close. It was a mistake. But she could only blame herself. He said he grew weak. So did she.

She brought her hands to his face to cradle it once more, thumbs caressing his cheeks. She held him like this almost every night but she wanted to hold him every single night.

“I’ll be by your side.”

[aliceslantern]

Heartlines, a Kingdom Hearts fanfic, chapter 16--Amalia

Twelve years ago, Xemnas betrayed the royal court of Radiant Garden to his father, Xehanort. Prince Ienzo flees to another city and begins university in the aftermath, hoping the anonymity will protect him from eager eyes with ill intent. The darkness spilling across the country, as well as an individual from his past, cut short Ienzo's new beginning and bring new conflicts to light. Strained between the desires of his magic and his heart, Ienzo's choice will change him forever.

Modern Fantasy AU, Soulmates, Zemyx. Updates Fridays until it's done.

Chapter summary:  The child's birth brings an unexpected ally.

Read it on FF.net/on AO3

---

Even returned a few moments later with a large glass of water and, of all things, a glass of wine. “It’s… traditional,” he told Ienzo. “Honeyed wine.”

“I’m not sure it’s a good idea for me to drink, if I’m to feed her,” Ienzo said.

“She’s got enough magic in her right now to metabolize what little alcohol would reach her.”

“Our powerful ass baby,” Demyx said.

Even exhaled. “Quite.”

“And of the others?” Ienzo gulped down the water nearly in one swallow. The wine was sweet and made him warm. “The magic, it--”

“Don’t worry about them. Focus on your daughter and rest. I’m sure you’d like to clean up--and we should do something about your bed. Not to mention weigh and measure her."

Ienzo raised an eyebrow. “I can simply shower ?”

“You’re already healing. Surely you must feel it.”

"...If you're sure."

Even helped him out of bed and up the stairs. He felt odd… empty, the separation too final. "You're alright?" He asked.

"I think I may be in shock."

"Startlingly fast." Even sighed. "I'll get you some clean things to change into. Take your time."

Ienzo… took a shower.

It was the first time he'd seen his body postpartum. His stomach was still somewhat distended, but already, he suspected, slimming to what it would be with the weight he'd gained with the pregnancy. He was sweaty, and there was a burst blood vessel in his right eye that was healing too. Ienzo considered himself. “I had a baby,” he said out loud, just to hear it, and bit his lip. He laughed a little. He was a parent. Downstairs, with his soulmate, was their living daughter, that had been in his body.

The hot water should not have felt as good as it did, and he moaned out loud. He washed himself clean. Just inside the door, Even had left pajamas and a thick menstrual pad. Ienzo sighed; he knew this was part of it. He dressed and returned downstairs, wincing on the steps. Demyx was still singing softly. The sheets on Ienzo's bed had been changed. Ienzo was surprised at the intensity with which he wanted to hold her, his breasts aching. "That may have been the best shower I've ever taken."

"Better?"

"Much."

"She's three and a half kilos exactly," Demyx said proudly. "Fifty-three centimeters. Someone ran out and got diapers."

Ienzo sat back down gingerly. The baby began to snuffle, and then cry; the aching worsened. "I think she's hungry. Give her to me." He unbuttoned his top and brought her to his chest. She latched on almost instantly. Ienzo shuddered as the milk began to flow.

"Does that hurt?" Demyx asked.

Ienzo sighed. "Would you believe me if I said it feels good?"

"I'm just surprised you wanted to do it this way."

"It's apparently...very good for us in particular."

"The magic?"

"...Yes. I'm… ambivalent to the actual functions of my body. I'm more resentful of the expectations forced onto them." The baby ate eagerly. "I can… make concessions for this."

"I just… can't believe it." Demyx stroked her head. "But at the same time… it feels like she's always been here."

"I'm still in shock, honestly." She seemed to have finished, falling back to sleep against Ienzo's chest. "In your… dream. Did she have a name?"

"No. You?"

"...No." He considered her. "We're… parents, Demyx."

He kissed him. "We are. You need rest, Ienzo. You must be exhausted. You had a baby. "

"Yes… I… well."

Demyx settled down next to him and pulled up the covers. "I'll wake you if she gets hungry." He blew out the candle and took off his shirt, holding their daughter against his chest. “What? Isn’t skin-to-skin good?”

“It… is.” He yawned.

“Ienzo, please sleep.”

He did; he couldn’t help it. The birth exhausted him and he slept so heavily there was just darkness until he heard the baby cry. Milk beaded along his nipples. He stirred groggily; in the semidarkness he could just barely see Demyx and Even, heard their soft voices.

“...Passed out immediately.”

“You’d be tired too, if it were you.”

The crying continued. He tried to sit up, his core protesting. “Is everything okay?”

“Your daughter just wants milk. I wanted to make sure she was feeding properly.” Even eased the warm little bundle in his arms, and like last time she started suckling instantly.

Ienzo drifted in and out as she fed, not helped by the gentle pleasure of it; distinctly nonsexual, but enjoyable nonetheless. It was very much soothing. He burped her when Even told him to, half asleep.

“Never seen him so out of it… it was weird.”

“...He’ll be back to himself once he’s gotten some rest,” Even said softly. “Once the spell wears off--” When the baby was done she was taken away, and he felt a wave of coldness wash over him, almost--but not quite--bringing him fully to consciousness. Between the summer heat and the exertion it actually felt quite nice. Everything felt nice right now, the sheets, the feeding, the memory of his baby in his arms.

“What--” Ienzo mumbled.

“Just checking on you, child. Relax.”

He’d just fallen back deeply into sleep when he heard the door.

Adrenaline woke his magic, still potent post-birth, bringing him back into consciousness.

Someone had left the lamp on. Demyx was unconscious next to him, deeply asleep, their squish-faced baby against his bare chest. Had Even slammed the door too hard by accident? He sat up and reached over to stroke her head once. He was again thirsty; he may as well get some water while he was awake.

Then he saw the crumpled mass on the floor. Even was unconscious as well, his blond hair in a pool around his face. Ienzo nearly screamed and clapped a hand over his own mouth. He forced himself to his feet and lurched over to Even, checked his pulse. He was just… asleep. But Even would not make the decision to sleep on the floor, not when there were chairs in this room.

And the door had slammed…

Someone was in the house.

Slowly, he crept towards the stairs. He was sore, despite the magic healing him; he winced as he climbed the stairs. The back door had been left open. Ienzo followed. The brightness of wards was obvious, but eerily, there was no one there; no one, of course, aside from the head of glowing blue hair. Ienzo opened his mouth--

“Don’t scream,” Saïx said. “Peace, your highness. Peace.”

Ienzo’s mind was spinning. Scary man, he remembered from the Forecast. Friend coming to you.  

He looked a little worse for the wear; his hair mussed, his face bruised, his suit torn. He clutched his side; blood oozed through his fingers.

“What do you want, Saïx?” he asked, coldly.

“I felt your… magic. It seems congratulations are in order.”

Ienzo let the magic hum along his skin. “You cast a spell on a newborn baby,” he spat. “I should rip you limb from limb. I can .”

He held up both his hands. “Of that I have no doubt. I promise you I did nothing to the child. I… surrender myself to you. I come in peace. I know you have no reason to believe me.”

“What do you want?” he asked again. “To get through the wards… what have you done to my friends?”

“Your friends are safe. They’re simply asleep. I would like to talk to you… your highness.”

Ienzo realized he didn’t know his name. He intended on keeping it that way. “About what?”

“I… I don’t wish this to be my legacy,” he began. Ienzo could see his glowing gold eyes. “I no longer wish… to be his puppet. More than anything… I’m sick of the darkness. I want to be whole again.”

His aura told him that Saïx was telling what he believed to be the truth. “But why now?”

“I’ve been trying to contact you for months. Even before… all this.”

Ienzo thought of the night at the club… “Then why did you attack us when we fled the other city?”

“I could not yet resist what had been done to me… but I… learned. Please. I wish to help you. Xehanort is a snake swallowing his own tail,” Saïx spat. “He will destroy us with the darkness… and the darkness will destroy him. I… thought darkness was power. But look at me.” He laughed darkly. “Where did it get me?”

"Why should I believe you?"

"You can sense I'm telling the truth. I know."

"Saïx--"

"My name is Isa."

"Then why--"

"He makes us take on new names. Anagrams them."

"Why would you betray him?"

He smiled tiredly. "I'd rather die for a good cause than die senselessly."

Ienzo took a tentative step forward. "Are you… wounded?" If he were hurt, Ienzo definitely had the upper hand, despite being immediately postpartum.

"He does not like… defectors." He chuckled softly. "But I was not followed, if that's what you were wondering."

Ienzo watched him bleed against the grass. "I can heal you."

"I'm aware."

"If I do--swear to me you will cause no harm."

"I swear."

He meant it. Ienzo exhaled. "Come on, then."

Isa followed him back into the living room. Ienzo told him to lie down; he did so. He held his hands over Isa. The wound was rather grave; if not for Ienzo he would likely have bled out. This, believe it or not, was good; saving his life meant Isa would be indebted to him, and he seemed the kind to respect that. He healed it quickly. "Sleep," Ienzo whispered; Isa slipped immediately into unconsciousness. He dragged him over to the couch and bound him magically. He was beginning to cramp by then, his exhaustion becoming overwhelming.

He found Aeleus unconscious near Dilan at the property line; he woke them both with a lucidity spell. "Ienzo," Aeleus gasped. "Where--oh--I am so sorry. What happened?"

"You were hit with a particularly potent Sleep spell," he explained. "There is a… situation, in the living room."

Aeleus grasped his shoulders. "You're alright? The child is alright?"

"She and Demyx are sound asleep."

Dilan dusted himself off. "A little girl?"

"Yes."

He smiled a little. "To think you'd be a parent before any of us."

"...Quite."

"What is this situation?" Aeleus asked.

Ienzo explained. "He seemed to believe what he said--moreover, he owes me now. Do with him what you will--but do not harm him."

Dilan scowled. "The fool. Ienzo, I know you are exhausted--perhaps you might be--"

"Wrong?" He raised an eyebrow. "My magic is still powerful from the birth. I trust it."

Aeleus sighed. "Then we should trust him. Go rest, child. We'll take it from here."

This handled, Ienzo hobbled back downstairs. Demyx and the baby were still asleep, and he soon followed.

---

Ienzo woke every few hours to his daughter's cries; he fed her twice and Demyx changed her. There was still warmth in his body, healing him from the birth; Ienzo kept sleeping. He was so tired, and the feedings lulled him too. He dipped in and out for an unknown amount of time, woken only by the baby being pressed against him or taken away. When he finally regained consciousness fully, he was still sore, but less horrifically.

"How are you feeling?" Demyx asked. He'd dressed their daughter in a yellow onesie. He was still cradling her.

"Better," Ienzo said. "Sore, but I'll manage."

"Good. ...I think someone wants breakfast."

"Something we have in common." He took her against his breast. "You should know… Saïx arrived last night."

Demyx flushed. "That asshole?"

"He was here to surrender himself. He was gravely wounded; he owes me a debt. And I intend to collect. He will not harm our baby."

A hot anger flooded Demyx's eyes; he grit his teeth. Ienzo had never seen that look before. Frankly, it was terrifying. "Like hell he will. I'll--" He cut himself off before he could say something violent in front of the baby.

"...And I'd help." Ienzo burped her.

He sighed. "Right. So, breakfast. What do you want? You haven't eaten since she was born."

And Ienzo was feeling it. "Pancakes. Bacon. So many carbs."

He gave him a small salute. "On it."

Ienzo followed him upstairs. He almost didn't want to set her down. Isa has been removed, detained elsewhere, he suspected, so they could have peace. Even sat at the table with his head in his hands, but when he heard them he perked up. "Are you alright?" Ienzo asked.

"Sleep spells always give me a horrific headache," he muttered. "Never mind that. How are you?"

"Better. Starved."

"Well, you're still eating for two." He got up and crossed over to him. "Is she feeding?"

"Quite well."

He stroked her small head once, something hazy in his eyes. "Seems like yesterday this was you."

The smell of frying bacon practically made Ienzo weak at the knees. "It must."

"May I?"

"...Yes."

Even took her gently into his arms. "I am much too young to be a grandfather."

Ienzo sat gingerly. His uterus was beginning to cramp in earnest now; only a pale shadow of yesterday's pain, but nonetheless not pleasant. Demyx gave him water, juice; he drank it all down and then some. He had to restrain himself from eating too quickly when the food was finally placed in front of him. "To think, only a little over twelve hours ago I began laboring in this same chair."

"...Quite." Even bounced her gently. "It seemed to go as well as it could've--for that, I'm grateful."

"Please give everyone my sincerest thanks."

"Yeah," Demyx said. "Really."

"They've all been messaging me all morning, asking about you and the baby."

Demyx gave him more food when his plate was clean; Ienzo kept eating. "And… our friend?"

"Being kept in that hellish unit across town."

Ienzo nodded. "In the Forecast… our daughter mentioned… an unexpected ally. A friend ."

"...That occurred to me too." Even exhaled heavily. "I suppose… there are stranger bedfellows."

"He was wounded. He owes me. I should--speak with him."

His head snapped up. "Ienzo, your sole job right now is to rest and learn to be a parent. I know you probably feel fine, but you said yourself--you were in labor twelve hours ago."

"I'll teach him how to chill," Demyx said. "We'll be okay."

Even nodded. With something like regret, he gave the baby back to Demyx. "I should check on the situation. You go back to bed and stay there."

Appetite sated, Ienzo did. The magic was starting to wane, and he was again tired. He and Demyx cuddled with their daughter. Something had changed in him, Ienzo realized; something had become serious, shifted in his eyes. Grown up. "Did you tell your parents?"

Demyx hardly spoke about his adoptive parents; Ienzo found it odd, considering adopted children were almost always wanted. He'd gathered from faint whispers and from Riku that, while his mother had been accepting of the whole magical thing, she wasn't so accepting of her son's sexuality. So Ienzo's pregnancy had initially excited her--until she learned he wasn't a woman.

Demyx took the baby's hand; it closed around his finger. "They're glad you and the baby are healthy. But they… don't care about meeting her. Or you, for that matter."

Ienzo sighed. "I'm so sorry." He wondered if their tune would change if they knew of his lineage.

He shrugged, though Ienzo saw the flicker of pain. "I don't mind holding my distance. I have you; I have her. That's all that matters." A pause. "I feel like… I was meant to be her dad, you know? And yeah, it terrifies me. I've been afraid from the minute we decided to do this. But that dream…"

"What did she show you?"

"That we're gonna crush it." He kissed the baby's head. "Doesn't she smell good?"

"She does," Ienzo conceded, brushing a finger across her cheek; she snuffled. "What should we name her?"

"I dunno. She's the princess--isn't it a big deal?"

Ienzo realized he had seen the baby purely as theirs . But she was the heir; royalty. He laughed a little.

"What's so funny?"

"I gave birth to the princess in an unfinished basement."

"...Hey, we made it pretty homey down here." A pause. "Does that make me royalty?"

"You'd be considered my consort, so in a roundabout way, yes."

"...I like that." He kissed him. "You mean in another life we would've been rich? Ugh." He smiled a little. "I was thinking…" The baby blinked stiffly. "Amalia."

"Why, pray tell?"

"She's a figure from our heritage. She was the one who freed us from the rule of the land, the word of the gods."

"...A liberator?" He nodded once. "Yes. That's it."

"Little Ammy. Lia. Li-li. Maya."

Ienzo chuckled. "Let her learn her name, before you nickname her."

"I can't wait to take her to the ocean."

"Will she… be able to transform?"

Demyx shrugged. "I have no idea," he said softly. "I haven't even been able to try myself since I got my power. But if she takes after you…" He furrowed his brows. He very gently took the baby-- Amalia --from Ienzo, unbuttoned the top of her onesie, and turned her onto her belly.

"What are you doing?"

He took out his phone and turned on the flashlight. He shone it on her shoulders. "...Huh."

"What?"

"Look. That iridescence. They're her fledgling scales. I had them too. They'll be really small, and rub off."

"...Will it hurt?"

"It'll itch." He redressed her and laughed a little. "My fishy."

"...I never noticed them on you."

"They shed, like skin. When I lost my power… they fell off, and never came back." He settled her against his chest. "I love her so much it hurts. "

"...Me too."

---

As natural as it felt, there was still some adjusting when it came to parenting; Amalia did not cry much, but when she did it was piercing. He and Demyx took her night feedings in shifts; Ienzo was soon able to strain off the excess milk he made for the freezer. Demyx worked; Ienzo cared for the baby. He was afraid to leave the house with her, lest they be attacked; Even only enabled his paranoia. But finally Demyx coaxed him into a walk in the park, and when there were no Heartless, Ienzo relented.

How odd, to simply be a family. People would smile at him and the baby in public; it took Ienzo too long to realize it was just because of the baby, and not because anyone recognized them. Perhaps she had inherited Demyx's charm; perhaps it was because she was an adorable newborn.

About a week after she was born, Ienzo insisted on seeing Isa.

He was doing better now; in fact, he seemed to have gained some weight. Ienzo noticed for the first time the scar on his face; he must've put it there the day they fled to Twilight Town. He’d been too exhausted the last time they’d met. He was reading calmly when Ienzo was ushered in. "You look well," he said.

"Are you comfortable?" Ienzo asked instead.

"Quite--I am--very well protected." His lip curled.

Ienzo sat on one of the chairs. "You owe me a debt."

"I do."

"I intend to collect."

"Then tell me how I can pay. I've already told the guardians of yours all I know."

"Such as?"

"This is more than just human experimentation. Xehanort attempted--he wants to give everyone magic, with the darkness. Before I met him… I was a normal little boy, albeit one locked into a monstrous form three days of the month. Lately… those enhancements were… redoubled, in a desperation to quash the remaining resistance. Hence… why I could use the power outside the full moon."

"But some people's bodies simply cannot handle magic," Ienzo said. He thought of his eye, how even he was not immune from this. “Not to that extent.”

Isa sighed. "Yes. In my time… I've seen too much death."

"You said you would rather die nobly rather than senselessly. What about living?"

A sad smile. "Look into my eyes."

Ienzo did.

"See the gold? My--pointed ears? Signs of poisoning--of darkness. Likely within a few years if I do not fall entirely, my cells will begin to break down--degrade."

"Perhaps we could fix that."

"Well--it may prove useful to your research, anyway."

"So they have numbers, darkness, and magic. What could you provide?"

"Intelligence. ...A double agent."

"You, I presume?"

He shook his head. "I've shot my load--as it were. But I trust this individual."

"And why should I?"

"Because he very much knows who you are--and has not acted on it." He cocked his head. "Have you ever heard of a bar called Seventh Heaven?"

"You know I know. You stalked me there," Ienzo spat. "You mean--the bartender--Luxord?"

" Very sharp, your highness. He knows all about all of your friends, too. He does not care about Xehanort's cause; all he wants is his own personal safety… and to see the situation evolve."

"So why would he help us?"

"To see how the game is played." He set his book aside. "I'm also willing to protect your daughter."

Ienzo tensed.

"I know. Why let me near her?"

"Why indeed." He leaned forward. "Tell me everything."

[proxylynn]

Underfell: File Name not Edgy Enough #24

Chapter 24: Drama

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

You know...I used to love darkness. It was the one element that felt the most kind to me. Now it's a different story. At this point I hate it. Nothing good comes when I'm in darkness anymore. If I'm not dreaming then I'm being used by a maniacal scientist as his personal experiment.

{What are you doing here?}

Or this crap happens.

"Seeing as I don't get a choice in these matters, I should be asking you that. So...Why am I here, Chara?"

{Go away.}

"Why so serious? You've been avoiding me like the plague."

{You've been listening to Gaster behind my back.}

I sigh.

"Are we really about to do this?"

{Do what?}

"A childish back and forth of 'how could you do this' b.s."

{I warned you not to trust him. And what do you do? You cut deals with him.}

"You've been rummaging in my head. Not very nice of you, bro."

{Don't call me bro. Family doesn't backstab family.}

"Heh...You've been dead so long you forget what humanity is like. And I didn't backstab anyone."

{Yes you did!}

"How? How does seeking aid from the best source of soul knowledge so I don't go kill-crazy backstab you or the family?"

{That's not the point! You didn't listen to me! Why doesn't anyone ever listen to me?!}

Where is this coming from?

"Dude, calm down. You're a kid. A dead kid. You should be used to no one listening."

The darkness rumbles with thunder. Energy swirls around like wind or unseen water. A form begins to take shape, distinctly that of a male child. The boy is pale-skinned, has bright pink cheeks, piercing red eyes, as well as light brown hair, and dressed in a red sweater with a black stripe across the middle, black pants, and brown boots. This is Chara...at least...Chara pre-death. And oddly he's intimidating.

{I am so sick and tired of people not listening to me.}

"*scoff* Join the club, kid. You really think I ended up here because others heard what I had to say? You can't expect me to ignore help because you tell me no. It's MY soul. MY problems. And I will deal with them MY way. Not anyone else's."

The energy gets stronger. It's starting to become visible as it clashes around him.

{Not again...I won't let it happen again...}

I don't like the looks of this. But what can I do about it? It's not like I have power here.

"Look, I'm sorry if I piss you off. I have an annoying tendency to do that. It's not intentional. I..."

{I won't let you kill Asriel again!}

Confusion seems to be my normal state of mind these days. Does he actually mean me? Is he having a moment like Sans and thinks I'm Frisk? Could he even be thinking of Gaster? Or is he calling out all the other past humans to fall before me? Either way, I'm not going to get through to him. The look in those eyes of his gives me the message loud and clear. Talking is pointless. Now I'm left to do the one move I've done all my life...brace for impact.

{Not again! NEVER AGAIN!}

As expected, his rage causes the energy to lash out at me and all I can do block. Damn things cut like knives. I can't tell if bleeding is possible here but it feels like it.

"*mutter* Geez...And I thought I had issues. *grunt* No one is out to kill Asriel! Calm down!"

He doesn't say a word. Yet the energy intensifies. Hitting harder. Pushing back. Pushing me away.

"*strained* Do you think this solves anything? That lashing out at me keeps him safe? Harming me only puts him in more danger!"

Again, he's not in a mood to listen. The energy is cutting away at me more. I won't be able to take it much longer at this rate.

"*snarl* Damn it, Chara! Don't be like Toriel and put your problems on me like it's my fault!"

For only a moment there's a break in his attack and I think that maybe...just maybe...maybe he sees that this isn't the right way of handling the situation. This hope is dashed when he suddenly rushes me and grabs my shirt. The look he has. So spiteful. It breaks my guard.

{If we're really family...You won't come back here again.}

He blasts me at point-blank range and everything flashes from black, red, and then white.

"*gasp and cough*"

God, I hate this shit. Each time I wake up I feel closer to dying. Like one day, I'll open my eyes but be unable to breathe or I won't wake up at all.

"Bad dream?"

...Or I'll wake up in an unknown place with lord only knows who.

"With the wack you took, a little nightmare is the best outcome you could've gotten. Though we still can't rule out brain damage quiet yet."

I can't see anything apart from the ceiling. A brace of some sort is restraining my head. I can feel bands on my wrists and ankles. And something else...something cold.

"Hmmm...Vitals look stable. Then again, it's been a long time since I've had to human hooked to this thing. Oh well."

Great. From bad to worse.

"Not a big talker, huh? Or are you just slow to take in what's going on?"

I am in no mood for this crap.

"In any case, the short version is you're now in Hotland. No one knows you're here. And if you ever want to go home, it's best that you cooperate."

The sigh that leaves me is one oozing with boredom. I'm numb to this. I've been here too long to care.

"You're taking this oddly well, human."

"I'm in no position to care. I'm restrained in a place I don't know. You already have points on me I can't bounce back from. So why not skip the spiel and be blunt. It'll be easier on us both."

There's a scribbling noise.

"Subject is reasonable yet bitchy after having woken up."

Okay...Now I have some clue.

"You're Alphys, right?"

By the sudden startle that shakes her, she wasn't expecting me to know.

"H-H-How do you...?"

"People talk. It's not like there are others down here that know what a human is and have done things to them before. Makes for a very select list of names."

She huffs through her nose.

"Perhaps you'll be of more interest than your predecessors after all. Aside from your soul that is."

She taps on something and it makes me snarl in discomfort. No wild guess needed that it's my soul.

"You're a first. I've never seen a human soul infused with magic before. Though it is funny how it can be afflicted with something so common to growing children and you are...clearly not one."

I try to not think about that stupid issue of soul puberty.

"Yeah, well...What can do? Stuff happens."

"Lucky for you...it's a condition that is easily fixed with some stabilizing magic. You might be able to feel it. It's rather cold. Much like everything else in this world."

So that's another mystery solved. I'm basically getting the equivalent to hormone balancers. The question...Why?

"Seems a little odd."

"How so?"

"No offense, but experience has taught me that no one does something for someone else down here without there being a reason. So spill it, doc. What reason could you have for treating my condition?"

There's a sigh and a loud click before the slab I'm on begins to move, slanting me to almost stand. Now I can see the room better, the machinery, the odd patch on my exposed purple soul, and her. A slightly corpulent reptile-monster that appears smaller than she is due to slouching. She has yellow skin/scales, wears spiral-shaped glasses, a red and black striped sweater with a matching black skirt, and topped off with a classic white lab coat with a few frayed ends.

"If you must know...He insisted on you being fully healed. I swear things would be more interesting if I didn't fix you. But no...he was going to annoy the piss out of me. And frankly, I'm not in the mood to tear him apart for scrap."

He? Oh...Him.

"Ah, I see. Mettaton is a crafty guy. Must be his inner ghost."

She gives me a questionable look.

"Why would you say that?"

"Because I know his cousin and he told me."

She groans and adjusts her glasses with her middle finger.

"That information is not for the public to know. You'd be wise not to spread any rumors about it."

"*scoff* Please. If I haven't blabbed by now than I ain't blabbing ever. Besides...There's no point telling anyone anyway."

She scribbles on a pad.

"You'd be wise to keep that mentality."

I roll my eyes.

"So where is he? Dude went so far as to have his flunky give me my second bat to skull injury and drag me here, the least he could do is show himself before overly explaining some elaborate plan."

She stops writing to look at me.

"HE is getting himself and I quote 'ready to shine like the star he was born to be' end quote."

If ego was hot air that metal body of his would be floating like a parade balloon.

"But what you said makes me wonder. You've watched his shows before, haven't you?"

"Enough to notice predictable patterns. Sure, the first show is fresh. But then he repeats the same theme in every show the rest of the day. It's hard not to notice."

"Like he tries too hard and looks like a moron."

"I wouldn't say that. It's endearing that he tries when it comes to an idea he likes. Whether or not the audience likes that sort of thing is subjective. You can't please all the people all of the time. Only some people some times."

"Try none and ever. Ratings have been in the dumper. The only small increase to have happened was that time he tricked you into phoning in. Heh...I still can't believe that worked."

"I'm not heartless. I don't want to see anyone hurt or die if I can help it."

She goes back to scribbling.

"Subject is a bleeding heart idiot."

I struggle to shake my head.

"Not the first time I've heard that and it won't be the last. Yet you can't honestly tell yourself that there isn't at least one person you'd risk it all for."

She pauses. Her scribbling stops to tap the pad. But this is not a long pause before she resumes again.

"Side note...If the subject is this stupid, how has it lived this long and what does that mean for surface humans?"

I can't roll my eyes hard enough.

"So you'd do anything for that fire elemental, huh?"

This has my attention.

"It's one thing to associate with monsters. Most are ignorant of what a human is. Making it easy to blend in and not be killed. But to be romantic with a monster? And to have been so dumb as to do so in public no less? That's just begging for trouble."

My glare has her smirking.

"Be a real shame if something unfortunate were to happen to him."

"You do not want to go down this road. Not on those tires."

"You are in no position to stop me if I do."

"Trust me, doc. You don't want to make me angry. Bad things happen when I snap."

My seriousness is not taken seriously.

"I'll be sure to enjoy studying every moment of it."

I sneer daggers at her.

"Humans are such pathetic and pitiful creatures."

"And yet we won the war. Go figure."

That earns me a very nasty look.

"I think you need to learn your place, human."

"I'm strapped to a table. I think I know my place."

"Let's double-check that..."

She reaches into her pocket and suddenly I'm thrashing harshly as electricity is sent shooting into me. After the longest five seconds ever, it stops. I'm left panting through my teeth and smoking faintly.

"Seems your tolerance is stronger than expected. Still...that should be enough to remind you to behave. Right, human?"

I want to defy her. I know I can. But the situation is not favoring me. She holds the power and knows it.

"*huff* Whatever."

She smiles and heads for the doorway.

"This will be interesting. That much is sure."

The door closes behind her and I sigh. Is it wrong that I miss the days of Papyrus beating me? Fuck my life. Okay...Time to make a plan.

[Meanwhile: The Ruins]

Fear. Fear is laced on the wind. Paternal fear of a mother for her child. When Toriel's voice was met by silence alarms went off. When she found the doors open when last she had shut them panic sank in. Her child's belongings were left behind, including the flower called brother. And one look at the snow beyond the door only added to her worry. The pristine snow was a disheveled mess. Footprints. In every and all direction. The worst part is the snowfall beginning to fill in the indents.

Searching.

Screaming.

Scanning for any clues as to where her child was. Yet she was lost. Second-guessing which set of tracks were the human's and uncertain if the ones she first picked were indeed the right ones. Scrambling, she picked another set and stuck to it. Swerving and swiveling through trees like dogs along a pole line. These tracks seemed hopeful enough. Stretching further into the distance than previous sets. At the rate she was headed, she would find herself in town and the location of the child would then follow suit. Just a little more. Just a bit further and then the real path shall be clear.

Yet...Why were the trees still constant?

The environment the same?

Where was this going?

...

The bridge.

These tracks made her head back towards home. Never faltering as they beelined for the bottomless pit. No deviation. No hesitation. Just clear forward motion to death. Her heart stopped. Everything stopped. She just stood there. Staring into the abyss. Contemplating just how deep or where it led. Could the human...did she...was this her fate? No...NO! There...There had to be a way to check. The...Oh! The phone! If she was in that pit or not, the ringing of that simple phone will provide her with answers.

[RING...]

She held that object muffled in her paws. Listening to the wind and anything at all.

But there was nothing. Simply the sound of snow landing on the world.

This...gave her hope. Hope touched the monster's soul for the first time in ages. Yet this begged the real question...Where is she? Perhaps some aid to this situation will be necessary. Seems like a visit to the town is in order.

[A cold walk later]

The hour is late. No one is out and about. Except for one. One that has very limited options at her disposal. In all their talks and jokes, Toriel never learned what Sans's house looked like. With a nervous lump in her throat, she approaches the bar and trembles as she knocks on the door of the obviously closed establishment. As one would guess there is no response. So she continues to knock, pressing with her urgency. After about five minutes of the most polite pounding on a door ever, a faint light approaches.

"*grumble* We're closed. Can't you read the sign?"

She ignores the annoyance due to the situation.

"Please, I need your help."

There's a pause. The door clambers open enough to show part of Grillby's face.

"M-Mrs. Dreemurr?"

"Forgive my rudeness. But I must speak to you about Lynsie."

"I didn't mean for it to be so big! It's just a hickey! I didn't hurt her, I swear!"

His defensive words confuse her and this makes the panicked man of flame become shamefully aware.

"You didn't know about that...Did you?"

Her eyes squint in judgmental frustration.

"I did not."

A small snort of steam comes out of her snout. Grillby, feeling like shit is going to end badly, slams the door in fear. Her own fear, overwriting her motherly rage, has her pounding on the door.

"Open this door!"

"I don't want to die!"

"Please! My daughter is missing!"

"...What?"

He opens the door fully now, knowing well the former queen would not lie about such a thing.

"She's missing?"

"Yes. I can not find her. Only footprints from many bodies."

She is surprised by the real concern coming to Grillby's face. He is quick to go for his phone but she shakes her head.

"I have already tried. She does not respond."

"Hmmm...This is sounding like an abduction. Has there been any notice left for you? A note? A call?"

She mopes.

"No. Nothing. I was hoping you might have a clue. Was there anything odd you noticed on your way home?"

He shakes his head.

"Unfortunately, no."

Her heart sinks. Seeing this has Grillby goes into support mode.

"Don't lose hope. We don't have much left. You know her better than I. She's prone to getting into trouble. But you know what?"

"What?"

"I know someone that can help. Just...Let me bundle up. If you can imagine, the cold and I..."

"Understood."

Grillby shuts the door and Toriel waits outside.

[Elsewhere: the Ruins]

"Ugh...my head..."

A dazed and delirious Flowey stirs in the dark confines of a bag. Unzipping a pack from the inside is bad enough, but doing so with leaves for hands is fucking ridiculous. And while hungover to boot. After some time, mixed with muffled swearing, the great escape is complete! The flower is free! Yet...Something is amiss. The bag he was contained in was not in the bedroom as he would have expected and the doors leading outside are wide open. This isn't right. It is time to ditch the pot and sink his roots into the ground to do some stealthy investigating. Covert flower style.

[Meanwhile: in Snowdin]

"Are you certain we will not be bothering them at such a late hour?"

"Don't worry about that, Mrs. Dreemurr. It's part of their job to deal with stuff like this. Plus, you're the Queen and they are in charge of looking after her. If they don't want to go through hell, they'll help."

"I hope so."

Grillby guilds Toriel the out of place house on the edge of town. Of course, they lived in a place like this. Why she expected different she didn't know. The curtains were closed yet glowed with the light of activity still going on inside. Muffled chuckling could be heard behind the walls. She recognized it easily...Sans.

"Sounds like someone's having a good time."

"Is it normal for others to be up still at such an hour?"

"Depends."

"Depends?"

"You know. Reasons. Some can't get these kinds of moments during day hours. Others just can't fall asleep all that well. Him? I think his reason is therapeutic. Ending the day on a laugh to forget all the bad stuff. But that's just my guess."

She pouts as he knocks on the door. Sans's puns when behind the Ruins exit were always on the borderline of being sad, she never thought much of it other than guessing the outside was just terrible. Now, learning more and more, she couldn't dismiss it as easily as before. But such thoughts are broken with the movement of the curtain and door opening seconds later to show the confused skeleton.

"what happened?"

Even with no word said, Sans is smart enough to know that their being here means nothing good.

"She's gone."

Sans's sockets widen.

"...get inside."

Further goading wasn't needed and once inside the door was locked much to the former queen's concern.

"now what do ya mean she's gone?"

"Not getting Papyrus? You know how he gets."

Sans sighs.

"fine...hey, pap! get your ass down here!"

A loud thud bangs the inside of a door upstairs.

"*MUFFLED* I TOLD YOU NOT TO BUG ME!"

"the queen's here! the human's gone!"

Rampant scuffling rushes to a door that is flung wildly open.

"SHE'S WHAT?!"

Toriel fiddles with her fingers.

"My child is missing. I believe someone has taken her."

Now in serious guard mode, Papyrus joins the group.

"ARE YOU TELLING ME THAT SOMEONE HAD THE GALL TO COMIT SUCH A BRAZEN ACT IN MY TERRITORY?!"

"what clues do you have that she didn't just pull a stupid stunt like last time?"

She swallows dryly.

"There were tracks. Lots of them. All scattered about the snow that were not there before. It looked like some person or persons were trying to make it as difficult as possible to distinguish what track lead where."

Papyrus growls lowly.

"SANS, CONFIRM THIS AND SEARCH FOR ANYTHING SHE MIGHT HAVE OVERLOOKED."

Sans nods and teleports out.

"Overlooked? I searched those woods for what felt like ages. I overlooked nothing."

"DO NOT TAKE IT AS AN INSULT. IN SITUATIONS OF PANIC, IT IS EASY TO MISS DETAILS. I AM MERELY CHECKING FOR THE BEST RESULTS. AND, AS LAZY AS MY BROTHER IS, HE HAS SHARP EYES. IF SOMETHING IS AMISS, HE WILL FIND IT."

"Awww..."

Grillby smirks.

"You actually complimented him. Shame he wasn't here to hear it."

Papyrus folds his arms and glares at the elemental.

"AND YOU'RE HERE, WHY?"

Grillby copies his pose except his expression is that of cocky smugness.

"I think any monster worth their dust would be man enough to care about what's happened to their girlfriend. Don't you?"

Papyrus opens his mouth to say a condescending remark but then doesn't due to his mind registering what was just said and putting things together now that it's clear.

"YOU...YOU! YOU'RE THE ONE HAVING THE INAPPROPRIATE RELATIONSHIP WITH THE ENEMY!"

"If you want to put it that way, yes."

"YOU'RE SICK."

"And loving it. What's your point?"

A weird energy could be felt between them as if they had something to say yet weren't, and it was making Toriel feel rather uncomfortable. Though part of her was miffed at Grillby for being too blatant about being with her daughter while she is present.

"YOU KNOW NOTHING GOOD WILL COME FROM MAKING YOURSELF SO VULNERABLE."

Of all the things Papyrus could've said, no one saw that coming. Yet Grillby takes it well.

"I've been spurned before. If it happens again, it won't sting so much."

"THAT'S NOT WHAT I MEANT."

This had the flaming man sneer and bite his tongue, holding back words that weren't ready to be said at this moment. Papyrus turns his attention to Toriel and she flinches.

"I NEED YOU TO TELL ME EVERYTHING."

She nods.

"Understood."

[Elsewhere: Snowdin forest]

The old lady wasn't kidding. The path outside of the Ruins looked like the frenzy made on kids the last day of school. The only difference was these tracks were randomly deliberate. Whoever made these wanted them to be seen. Not a thing normal folk do around here unless goading others into a trap. Following them would be pointless. They likely only go where they wanted them to go and covered up the real tracks. Bastard smugglers. They know what they're doing. Though someone was a little sloppy. A few stray drops of blood dot the tread of a couple of tracks. Who told them about a human being down here?

[RING]

Must be Papyrus. Maybe Toriel shared something helpful.

"sup."

"WHAT HAVE YOU FOUND SO FAR?"

Guess she didn't say much.

"not a lot. but from what's here, it looks like the work of the body snatchers."

"IN SNOWDIN? ARE YOU POSITIVE?"

Why would he not be?

"it's like the reports undyne briefed us on. a group goes about making distractions and cleans up the evidence made by the single soul doing the dirty work."

As if life down here isn't hard enough.

"ANY LEADS?"

Sans looks back towards the Ruins.

"her boot tread doesn't go past the exit door all that much and i found a few stray drops of blood. my guess is they laid her ass out with a sneak attack then carried her off. such active numbers couldn't have just got here all at once or it would be too noticeable."

"YES, IT'S POSSIBLE THEY WENT THERE ONE AT A TIME THROUGHOUT THE DAY AND HID TILL THE TIME WAS RIGHT."

"bet it helped that this was our worse day."

"TRUE. THESE PRICKS ARE CLEVER."

Is it really clever to take advantage of a missing worker and one too distracted to pay attention?

"don't praise them just yet. i might have an idea of where they come from."

"REALLY?"

"yeah. some moron decided to wear mtt brand shoes. you know? the expensive ones that have his likeness on the bottom."

"HMMM...MTT BRAND ITEMS AREN'T COMMON OUTSIDE OF HOTLAND. THERE'S NOT A LOT OF JOBS IN THE OTHER ZONES TO MAKE GOLD FROM."

"yeah. so either someone saved up for ages or we're looking at scum from hotland."

"YOU DON'T SUPPOSE ALPHYS IS INVOLVED?"

"Then what are you doing with the human? Because, frankly, it should've been sent to my lab by now."

"wouldn't surprise me. bitch knows about the human. and i've had the feeling she's been behind most of the reported disappearances. but you know undyne would never question it. thirsty fish bitch."

"IF TRUE, THEN THINGS ARE ABOUT TO GET VERY DIFFICULT."

"so...they told ya anything?"

"BOTH OF THEM REPORT NOTHING UNUSUAL LEADING UP TO THE HUMAN'S ABDUCTION. THOUGH THE QUEEN MENTIONED THE GIRL RECEIVING A PHONE CALL BEFORE SHE DISAPPEARED."

"a phone call?"

"THE QUEEN ALSO NOTES SHE HAS SEEN AN UNKNOWN NUMBER POP UP IN THE HUMAN'S PHONE. WOULD YOU HAPPEN TO KNOW ABOUT THIS?"

"can't say i do. it's not like she told me about..."

"Hell, you used Mettaton for that tile puzzle. The guy's been obsessive ever since seeing her. He hasn't stopped talking about being so close to the human since he came back from Snowdin Forest."

"It was Mettaton! He traced my phone number from the other night."

"It's Mettaton. He called me again. And you know that he knows what I am."

"*soft* BUT DID I JUST HEAR THAT SOMEONE IS LAYING THEIR NASTY HANDS ON MY HUMAN?"

The realization hits Sans like a brick to the skull.

"...*whisper* oh shit."

A faint ringing can be heard.

"HOLD ON. SOMETHING'S HAPPENING."

The soft voice of Toriel answers a random call, possibly from the kidnappers. But her worried tone quickly turns to excited hope and the word child is heard.

"COME HOME, SANS. YOU'LL BE NEEDED FOR RECOVERY EXTRACTION."

"got it. be there in a sec."

He hangs up and sighs. This was worse than he figured if Mettaton was indeed the culprit. Damn machine was the reason for a RESET on what was a peaceful timeline. Well, at least there are some things he can count on when it came to the human. The girl was no damsel in distress. He just hoped nothing triggered her soul to turn black. He teleports back home completely unaware of the flower spying on him the entire time and intends to follow to find out more.

[HOTLAND LAB: around the same time]

Alphys has left me alone for a good long time now. Letting me assess my surroundings and bonds. They're tight. While one of my wrists is slightly loose. It's a trap. A ploy. She wants me to try. To make an escape attempt. I can do it. The issue is what happens when I do. Probability is not on my side. A scientist of unknown IQ has my on their turf and has who knows what in the line of traps lined up for prey that it has studied for years. Mines. Turrets. Lasers. Gas. Flamethrowers. Swinging blades. Spike pits. Razor wire. Possibility is limitless. Yet the possibilities only worsen if I remain here. I hate double edge swords. Damned if do and don't. Argh...Fuck my life.

"*wince*"

Yanking my wrist through the restraint brings back memories of the skeleton's shed. Seems like this is my role in life. Getting taken and escape. So annoying. At least that damn thing didn't dislocate. I need to keep quiet. Though it's kinda pointless. I'm more than likely being monitored in some way. Still, my odds are better if I adhere to being paranoid and ninja my ass through this place. Belt restraints are effective but old fashioned and flawed, easy to get out of if you have a free hand. I'm free in less than a minute and rips the patch off. Medical or not, I don't like my soul being out. It makes this already messed up thing even more messed up. If my paranoia and overthinking brain are on point, then the door is most likely unlocked. There's probably even a set path I'll be forced on too. Drive the cattle to the slaughter, or so they say.

A light touch on the door has it open to a dimly lit hall. Totally giving off horror movie vibes. The air has a faint stale scent, this area most likely hasn't been active in a long time. The darkness makes the hall look exceptionally long. But down it I must travel and travel I do. My steps echo like I'm walking in an empty school. Giving me unease. Like, at any second, someone or something will pop out. I haven't felt so skittish since my middle school days dodging campus security to cut class and leave the building. I'm too on edge. A slight humming isn't helping my equilibrium either. Did she set up some sort of audio mind scrambler? Am I overthinking shit? It's a 50/50% on either at this point. So I change tactics. I run. If something happens it'll at least happen quickly.

Yet...I don't seem to be going anywhere. I pass countless doors without turning a corner. I must be going deeper into insanity or something isn't normal about it. It's almost like it's...

"Son of a whore!"

I stop and grab onto the edge of a door frame. Only for the floor and walls to pull me in two directions.

"A möbius strip? No...A treadmill. Very sneaky either way. Almost didn't catch on if it weren't for that humming getting louder when I ran. Heh...Willing to bet the motor is basic and can't push past its standard limits. Which means..."

I start running backward, the hum grinding loudly as momentum builds before stopping and allowing the convener to drag me in the direction I was headed before.

"You can't correct the way it moves until it slows down to the bare minimum speed."

I ride the out of control road up to where a door, unlike the rest, becomes noticeable, this thing has a knob. Flinging it open and jumping out saves me from that dumb endless hall. One annoying trap beat. Who knows how many more to go. At least this area looks normal enough. It's open, much like a normal living space, but it's not that exactly. The interior is faint red. There are two floors, the ground floor is what looks like a workplace and the second floor is a more personal space. I'm on the second floor.

"The hell...?"

The door behind me shuts itself, sealing to blend with the wall and its knob covered by a decorative mask of an angry looking cat-girl. Everything up here seems out of place and clearly belongs in some oddball bedroom. Beside me are five fully stocked bookcases containing all sorts of things. Alphys's obsessions and hobbies, comics, anime figures, an ice cream machine, unopened letters, etc. litter her room. It's honestly very creepy. Especially the wall posters of that same angry cat-girl that have eyes that follow you. I bumpy slide down the escalator handrail, not trusting the walkway to not be a trap, and feel instant unease once my feet touch the tile floor. On the ground floor, there is a large screen that's probably been used to monitor me, a fridge with a supply of instant noodles, a messy desk with her computer surrounded by odd instruments, and a washroom. This place is creepy. Where's the exit?

*RUMBLE*

The building shakes faintly though the sound was rather loud.

*RUMBLE*

It feels like it's moving...closer?

*RUMBLE*

*RUMBLE*

*RUMBLE*

*RUMBLE*

"The hell is going on?"

The lights suddenly go out. All is very still. Till...something explodes and sends into what I guess is a wall.

"SURPRISE!"

The lights come back on and reveal Mettaton, who is now posing after bursting through a different wall.

"SUCH A FABULOUS AND RANDOM ENTRANCE. DON'T YOU THINK SO, DARLING? HUH...DARLING?"

I am less than happy shoving rubble off of me.

"Unnecessary and overly flashy. Yep...That's a Mettaton entrance alright."

"TOO MUCH?"

I dust myself off.

"Just a tad. Though, I'll give you points for it being memorable."

"BUT IF GIVEN THE CHANCE TO RATE IT?"

"Um...7 out of 10."

"HMMM...NOTE TO SELF, NEXT TIME ADD FIREWORKS AND LASERS."

Is it cute that he's trying to be cool?

"So...Is being whacked with a bat your way of saying I was taking too long to get here? Or is that how you treat all your fans?"

His screen flashes.

"OH! NO. THAT WAS MORE OF AN IMPROVISATION ON BURGERPANTS'S PART. I DO HOPE YOU CAN OVERLOOK MY POOR JUDGEMENT IN HIS COMPETENCE."

I rub my head.

"I'll give you a pass this time. Mainly because I'm thick-skulled. But no more headshots. It sucks being unconscious so often."

"FAIR ENOUGH, DEAR."

"Well, you got me here. Caused a little trouble maybe? So now what? What does a bot like you want from little ol' me?"

"OH, DARLING...WHERE TO BEGIN?"

He rolls over to me and my creep vibes are tingling. Especially when two of his four hands start posing my arms and the other two cup my face.

"AMAZING. I'M ACTUALLY IN THE PRESENCE OF A REAL LIVING HUMAN. I'VE HEARD STORIES AND SEEN FOOTAGE, BUT I NEVER THOUGHT I'D EVER GET...TO TOUCH...YOU."

What the...? Why is he saying that in such a captivating tone of voice? And why is it making feel like a dumb cliché girl? I thought Alphys fixed my soul's emotional sensitivity? I shake it off. Now's not the time for this.

"Getting a bit handsy don't you think?"

I usually save that joke when talking about Gaster, but this fits the situation too. His screen blanks for a moment at my playful voice, though I feel stupid on the inside, before flickering randomly and he lets me go.

"MY APOLOGIES. I LET MY EXCITEMENT GET THE BETTER OF ME. PLEASE...FORGIVE MY ILL BEHAVIOR."

It's so hard to get a read on him. His TV self and off-camera self are like night and day. I don't know if I can drop my guard around him just yet. This isn't normal. I'm out of my element and still dealing with lots of unknowns. Better to play safe than end up sorry...or dead. I sigh and clap my hands.

"Be kind, let's rewind."

A "?" appears on his screen while I offer my hand to him.

"Howdy, Mettaton. It's nice to finally meet you. I'm Lynsie."

He's confused, that much is certain. Though it's short-lived as he swoons dramatically and falls into my arms. Dear lord! He's heavy! Must be the junk needed to work those four arms.

"MY GOODNESS. AFTER BEING TREATED SO RUDELY, YOU CHARM ME WITH A SIMPLE GREETING? OH, WHAT MARVELOUS CHEMISTRY! I KNEW YOU'D BE PERFECT FOR THIS."

I knew there was something sketchy. I drop him.

"Once again, I encounter the creature known as selfish d-bag. I'm going home."

Not sure where the exit is but I walk away from him anyway. He, of course, scrambles to get us and zips in front to block my path.

"NO, NO, NO, DARLING. YOU HAVE IT ALL WRONG. PLEASE DON'T BE SO HASTY TO LEAVE."

"Then to prevent my irritated departure you must answer me these questions three. Doing so truthfully will have you see me remaining here with thee. But...if deception is sensed, then you shall be cast into the Gorge of Eternal Peril. But since it's under renovations, I'll resort to smacking you instead."

God, I'm a nerd. Like he, or anyone else down here, knows Monty Python and the Holy Grail. However, the idea of a game seems to excite him.

"A Q&A? OH, DARLING, DO ASK AWAY. MY ANSWERS WILL SURELY BE THE STUFF YOU LONG TO HEAR."

I hold up a finger.

"First question...What are your plans for me since you have me here?"

His top set of hands twiddles their fingers while the bottom hands move as one does when dramatically speaking creatively.

"MY PLANS? OH, NOTHING MUCH REALLY."

I cock my eyes.

"Mind telling me what exactly what that is?"

"DO YOU WANT THAT TO BE YOUR SECOND QUESTION?"

I sneer.

"No. But you're not doing this right."

"HOW SO?"

"While you technically answered the question, you did so in the laziest and non-informative way."

"VERY WELL. I SHALL BE MORE INFORMATIVE WITH MY NEXT ANSWER."

"Thank you."

A second finger is put out.

"Second question...Nothing weird happened while I was unconscious, right?"

"*GASP* DARLING! THAT IS VULGAR OF THE HIGHEST DEGREE! WHILE I SHALL ADMIT..."

His hands cup my face and hold my shoulders.

"SEEING SUCH A HAPLESS FLOWER LIKE YOURSELF BE BROUGHT HERE. HURT AND UNRESPONSIVE. A LESSER MONSTER WOULD BE TEMPTED TO DO ALL SORTS OF THINGS. FORBIN THINGS. ANYTHING WOULD BE ON THE TABLE. LIMITED ONLY BY IMAGINATION..."

His voice is different. Completely monotone. All too personal. A shiver trembles down my neck. He lets the hands drop from my face but not the shoulders.

"BUT I AM NOT LIKE THOSE WEAKLINGS. I KNOW BETTER THAN TO PLUCK A FLOWER BEFORE IT BLOSSOMS. AND OURS IS ONE THAT IS JUST STARTING TO BUD."

I hate so much right now.

"DARLING?"

"Too much info."

"WELL, YOU DID ASK FOR MORE."

"Then...*sigh*...Never mind."

"AND YOUR THIRD QUESTION?"

My third? Oh! Oh shit!

"Yeah, my third question...Did you or your goon bother to inform Toriel of this impromptu adventure/kidnapping in a way that won't result in property damage/loss of life?"

"WELL..."

Big red flag warning! Fuck being nice! serious time!

"Where's my phone?"

"HUH?"

"I know it's not on me. Do you think I can't tell if there's suddenly no weight in my baggy pockets? Now if you want to escape death at her hands or mine, please...Hand it over."

He throws his hands up.

"DARLING I DON'T..."

*Bang*

He is surprised by the sudden strike.

"Don't make me do that again. Now, please, give me my phone."

"I PROMISE, DARLING, I DON'T HAVE IT."

I want to hit him again, but my throbbing hand is screaming. Change of plans.

"Give me your phone."

"W-WHAT? WHY?"

"Don't make me break my hand in repeating myself."

He rumbles and a phone shoots out of a port on his side.

"YOU ARE SCARY WHEN SERIOUS. HERE."

"Thank you."

I reach for it and he pulls back.

"AH AH AH. FIRST, A LITTLE PROMISE. YOU CAN USE THIS, BUT THEN YOU HAVE TO DO SOMETHING FOR ME."

I growl in building annoyance.

"WELL? THE CLOCK IS TICKING."

I don't have time for this crap.

"...Fine."

He giggles and hands it to me. I scroll through his past calls. My number appears under some others all marked as SLAVE #...I guess he fits in down here more than I thought. Metal boss from hell. My phone could be with any of the goons so I thank my lucky stars that Toriel's number is burned into my head. Time to brace for impact.

[Snowdin: Skeleton House in present time]

Sans returns home in the kitchen, needing a drink to replenish his magic if he's to teleport any more tonight. He steps into the room to see the other three all trying to listen to the small phone at once. Guessing they are too focused to remember phones have an intercom function.

"Child where are you? Are you hurt?"

"A little sore, but otherwise okay."

Oh...never mind then. They're just being weird.

"As for the where I assume this is the Lab in Hotland. *muffled* There are no other labs in the Underground, right?"

"*faint* THAT'S CORRECT, DARLING."

The electronic voice is recognized by all except Toriel.

"Young one, who is that with you?"

"Would you believe a robotic TV star?"

"*faint* OH, DARLING, YOU FLATTER ME."

"Make that a robotic TV star with an ego bigger than Papyrus's."

"FUCK YOU, HUMAN."

Papyrus interrupts.

"Oh wow. I expected this but had my doubts Nanny would actually do it. Who else is there?"

"You had us worried, pussycat."

There's a pause.

"Don't tell me you thought he took me?"

Toriel laughs nervously.

"*groan* Mom..."

"ENOUGH WITH THE CHIT CHAT. ARE YOU ABLE TO LEAVE ON YOUR OWN OR NOT?"

"Hmmm...As far as I know, I'm able to go. But I have to do something for Mettaton first."

"Why?"

"I had to promise to do a favor to use his phone. Mine might be in the hands of some goon."

"What is it you have to do?"

"That's a good question. *muffled* Yo, what's this thing I have to do?"

"*faint* NOTHING TOO DIFFICULT. I JUST NEED YOU TO BE YOURSELF FOR THE NEXT...OH...LET'S SAY TWO HOURS."

"*muffled* What?"

"*faint* I THINK IT WOULD BE EASIER TO UNDERSTAND IF YOU TELL YOUR FRIENDS TO TURN ON THE TELEVISION."

The mood shifts ominously.

"*muffled* You can't mean what I think you mean."

"*faint* GO ON. TELL THEM."

"Uh...Turn on the TV?"

Sans grabbed the remote before the other could scramble and with a heavy feeling in his soul hits the on the button. The screen comes alive to a timer counting down. The caption above reading "Live Once In a Lifetime Event Special". The timer has less than five minutes remaining. Panic strikes. Papyrus steals the phone.

"GET OUT OF THERE, HUMAN!"

"Okay, ow, my ears are bleeding."

Grillby snatches the phone.

"Lynsie, you need to get out of there. You're being set up to appear on TV."

The next sound the group hears is the phone clattering to the floor and sprinting feet hitting tile flooring. Other sounds can be heard. Mechanical and aggressive sounds. Then...the line goes dead.

"SANS, GO GET..."

"i can't."

"What? Why not?"

"all she said was she's at the lab. do you know how big that place is? i need to know exactly where or i'm just wasting magic."

"But, Sans, you promised me you would..."

"i know tori, i ain't forgetting it. i don't want her exposed to the underground either. trust me on that. but i can't just poof to a secured building. alphys is probably expecting interference. and trust me, it's not a good thing to just pop in with no quick plan to get out."

Suddenly the TV begins beeping. The timer clocking down the remaining ten seconds. And all they could do was watch and wait. At the timer's end, the screen darkens to black before a flashy title screen appears while glam-rock plays. The image then cuts to live footage in a weird game show looking room and then...

"GREETINGS ALL YOU BITCHES AND BASTARDS. WELCOME TO A VERY SPECIAL EVENING OF ENTERTAINMENT. TO START THINGS OFF...A QUIZ SHOW!"

Mettaton flamboyantly parades around.

"BUT WAIT. WHAT MAKES THIS SPECIAL THAT IT WARRANTS LIVE BROADCASTING? WELL, YOU INGRATES, IT'S BECAUSE WE HAVE A GUEST THAT'S GOING TO BE WORTH WATCHING. ALLOW ME TO INTRODUCE OUR LEADING LADY...THE ONE THE ONLY..."

The camera jumps to a stand where a spotlight illuminates onto the bound and gagged human. Arms restrained behind her back and ankles cuffed to the floor.

"THE HUMAN!"

Her glare is full of rage and the beastly noises escaping the gag as she trashes in the binds make her look as dangerous as the humans of old.

"THAT'S RIGHT, A REAL LIVING HUMAN. YOU MIGHT BE QUESTIONING THE AUTHENTICITY OF THIS CLAIM. YET I ASSURE YOU, SHE IS THE REAL DEAL."

One of his hands stretches out towards her. She recoils from the grasping appendage but she can't move from the metal hand that proceeds to taser at the chest. The pain makes her screech and her light blue soul briefly emerges. Upon seeing the heart, Mettaton stops the attack.

"AS YOU CAN SEE, HER SOUL IS CLEARLY THAT OF A HUMAN'S. SHE IS 100% HUMAN AND NOT CGI OR SOMEONE IN CUSTOM. FOR NOT EVEN THE GREATEST ACTOR OR SPECIAL EFFECTS CAN MAKE A HUMAN SOUL. AND DEFINITELY NOT ONE SO LOVELY."

The assaulting hand tease touches where the soul came from and the human cringes. Though she's not the only one. Toriel is appalled and Grillby is fuming.

"OH BOY! I CAN ALREADY TELL IT'S GONNA BE A GREAT SHOW! EVERYONE GIVE A BIG HAND FOR OUR WONDERFUL CONTESTANT!"

All four of his hands clap as he moves over to podium across from her.

"I TAKE IT YOU'VE NEVER PLAYED BEFORE, GORGEOUS?"

She huffs loudly through her nose.

"NO PROBLEM! IT'S SIMPLE! THERE'S ONLY ONE RULE. ANSWER CORRECTLY...OR YOU DIE!"

Mettaton laughs evilly yet the human rolls her eyes. The others look to Sans again.

"don't look at me. i have no clue where that room is."

Their attention goes back to the screen as the Fair Fight Field actives as if they were in battle.

[METAL CRUSHER begins to play in the background.]

[Mettaton attacks!]

"YOUR MOVE, DARLING. YOU GET ONE FREE TURN BEFORE WE START."

The girl weighs her limited options.

[FIGHT]

[ACT]

[̴͝SP͜͞E͡L̵͜L͟͠͏]͘͢

[ITEM]

[MERCY]

Her confusion is warranted. An unknown option could lead to bad things.

[ACT selected.]

[New options available.]

[CHECK]

[CRY]

She huffs and makes a choice.

[CHECK selected.]

[Mettaton – HP: 9999 ATK: 300 DEF: 999 – His metal body renders him invulnerable to attack.]

Her eyes nearly bug out of her head.

"NOT A BAD FIRST MOVE, DEAR. IT'S NEVER BAD TO CHECK ME OUT."

A screen mounted behind him blinks on.

"LET'S START WITH AN EASY ONE!"

A question appears on the screen.

[What's the prize for answering correctly?]

A) Money

B) Death

C) Freedom

D) More questions

Four buttons pop up on her stand.

"CHOOSE CORRECTLY OR BE MET WITH TERRIBLE PAIN."

The look she has is one filled with hate. Yet she complies and presses the D button with her chin. A pleasant fanfare goes off.

"RIGHT! SOUNDS LIKE YOU GET IT! HERE'S YOUR TERRIFIC PRIZE!"

Her turn is skipped due and the screen puts up another question.

"What sort of crap is this?"

Grillby interjects.

"Her turn was skipped. How is that even possible?"

Toriel ponders.

"leave it to that quack to figure out a way to break the rules."

Sans says between drinks.

[What's the king's full name?]

A) Lord Deathbeard

B) Killer Killington

C) Asgore Dreemurr

D) Krampus

The human quickly presses the C button and the fanfare goes off again.

"CORRECT! WHAT A TERRIFIC ANSWER! ARE YOU SURE YOU'VE NEVER DONE THIS BEFORE?"

She nods.

"ENOUGH ABOUT YOU. LET'S TALK ABOUT ME!"

She groans as the screen brings up another question.

[What are robots made of?]

A) Hopes&Dreams

B) Metal&Magic

C) Blood&Guts

D) Hate&Spite

She pops her neck and presses the B button. Once more the fanfare plays. This time Mettaton gets some attitude.

"TOO EASY FOR YOU, HUH?"

She shrugs.

"WELL THEN...HERE'S ANOTHER EASY ONE FOR YOU "

[Two trains, Train A, and Train B, simultaneously depart Station A and Station B. Station A, and Station B are 252.5 miles apart from each other. Train A is moving at 124.7mph towards Station B, and Train B is moving at 253.5mph towards Station A. If both trains departed at 10:00 AM and it is now 10:08, how much longer until both trains pass each other?]

A) 31.054 minutes

B) 16.232 minutes

C) 32.049 minutes

D) 32.058 minutes

She's hesitant now. Her eyes hold uncertainty.

"Oh no..."

Toriel mutters.

"We have yet to go over such math lessons."

"THEN SHE BETTER BE A GOOD GUESSER."

The human's eyes dart from button to button. She has no clue. She picks one at random...A. A buzzer goes off.

"WRONG! WRONG! WROOOOOOOONG!"

Mettaton points at her and fires a laser blast into her left shoulder. If it weren't for the gag her cries would be excruciating.

[HP ██████████████████████████ 26/36]

She pants, biting the gag to brace some of the pain.

Toriel is understandably horrified and Grillby is worried. Though Sans and Papyrus are impressed.

"SHE'S GOTTEN TOUGHER."

"the is no pushover. the tin can is gonna learn that the hard way."

"SORRY, DARLING. BUT THE CORRECT ANSWER WAS D. MAYBE YOU'LL HAVE BETTER LUCK WITH THE NEXT QUESTION. THEN AGAIN...DON'T 'COUNT' ON YOUR VICTORY."

The next question pops up.

[How many eyes are in this jar?]

An image appears for a split second.

A) 54

B) 53

C) 55

D) 52

Not given much time to study the image, she once more has to guess.

"What kind of game is this? She is not being given a fair play."

Toriel complains.

"ACTUALLY, AS WRONG AS IT LOOKS, HE IS FOLLOWING THE LAW."

Papyrus corrects.

"You must be joking."

"he's not. one of the laws enforced after you left the king was to stop humans at all costs while giving them some form of a chance. the tin can is giving her multiple choices and only inflicting minimal damage. if he wanted to, he could just off her right there."

Explains Sans.

"As much as I don't like it, it makes sense. With one soul remaining to break the barrier extremes are bound to be made to get it. For what is the life of one human when held next to the entire Underground?"

Grillby comments and Toriel frowns. Even she sees the point in that. But that does mean she likes it.

The human contemplates her choices and seems to do a mental coin flip before pressing the D button. This time, the buzzer sounds.

"COMPLETELY UTTERLY WRONG!"

Mettaton blasts her again in the right shoulder and her roar is bloodcurdling.

[HP ████████████████ 16/36]

The bloody gaping holes in her shoulders make her slump over against the stand. She won't last much longer if this keeps up.

"THE CORRECT ANSWER WAS A. YOU MIGHT WANT TO TRY HARDER FROM HERE ON."

An annoyed groan was her reply.

"HMMM...MAYBE YOU NEED SOMETHING ELSE. LET'S PLAY A MEMORY GAME."

The screen produces a new question and image.

[What monster is this?]

The monster shown is half of a Froggit's face.

A) Froggit

B) Whimsun

C) Moldsmal

D) Mettaton

This one seems like a no-brainer yet the human seems unsure. Mostly because blood loss makes it hard to think.

"WHY IS SHE HESITATING? THE ANSWER IS CLEARLY A."

Papyrus bitches.

"Really? You think it's that easy?"

Grillby retorts.

"THEN WHAT DO YOU THINK IT IS?"

"I'm surprised you do see it. It's obviously D."

"BULL CRAP. I BET YOU 10G IT'S A."

"Fine. Just don't be upset when you're wrong."

After thinking long and hard about the question, the human presses the D button. The fanfare plays.

"I'M SO FLATTERED YOU REMEMBERED! LET'S TAKE A LOOK AT THE WHOLE IMAGE."

The picture unfolds to reveal Mettaton wearing a shirt with a Froggit's face on it.

Papyrus's jaw clenches as Grillby folds his hands behind his head with a smug attitude.

"You need to listen to pussycat more often. She did say he had an ego bigger than yours."

"FUCK YOU."

"Just pay me by week's end."

Papyrus grumbles while turning back to the TV.

"YOU'VE BEEN ON A ROLL SO FAR. BUT CAN YOU GET THIS ONE?"

The screen brings up a new and rather odd question.

[Would you smooch a ghost?]

A) Heck Yeah

B) Heck Yeah

C) Heck Yeah

D) Heck Yeah

The human and the watching group all share the say "what the fuck" look.

"GO ON. CONSIDER THIS AN ACT OF MERCY."

She sneers and reluctantly presses the B button. With no wrong choice to make, the fanfare plays.

"GREAT ANSWER! I LOVE IT!"

A steaming Grillby hates it.

"HERE'S A SIMPLE ONE."

The screen pops up the next question.

[How many letters in the name Mettaton?]

A) 11

B) 6

C) 8

D) 10

A relatively easy question except for the number of Ns at the name's end increases and eventually goes out of the screen with the numbers in the answers increasing accordingly.

"How in the world do you answer that?"

Toriel puzzles.

"it's c."

Sans says softly to the confusion of the others.

"for a second, the real numbers were there. c had eight, which is the right answer regardless of the increasing."

"Here's hoping she saw that too."

Says Grillby while adjusting his glasses.

The human is beginning to look paler than normal. The strain on her body and mind making things difficult. She wearily presses the C button, mainly due to landing on it after a slight dizzy spell, and the fanfare plays.

"OF COURSE THAT WAS EASY FOR YOU!"

She grunts against the stand, pushing herself to keep going even as her body wants her to stop.

"Come on, pussycat. You can hold out just a bit longer."

Grillby says to himself before flinching at the feel of Toriel's hand holding his. She gives him a motherly smile and it helps calm his nerves for now.

"YOU'LL BE SURE TO KNOW THE ANSWER TO THIS ONE!"

The screen pops up another random question.

[What's a pretzel's favorite color?]

A) Black

B) Yellow

C) Red

D) Dusk

This had to be one of the odder questions to be done though tame. The human wastes no time picking a button. Either to end it faster or knowing it, who's to say. But her head thuds onto the B button and the fanfare plays.

"CORRECT! YOU'RE SO LUCKY TODAY!"

The amount of blood pooling on the floor says otherwise.

"TIME TO BREAK OUT THE BIG GUNS! HERE IS YOUR FINAL QUESTION."

The screen shows the question.

[How bright is this text?]

A) 85% Bright

B) 84% Bright

C) 86% Bright

D) 83% Bright

This made little sense. The question text was the same color as all other questions. How was this even answerable to her when she can hardly even look up at the screen?

The group is just as confused. How do you tell the percentage of brightness to text?

Though after some time of no movement from the human, Mettaton rolls around his podium.

"DARLING? ARE YOU ABLE TO MAKE A CHOICE?"

A tired moan drones out of the gag.

"TELL YOU WHAT, I'LL BE NICE AND HELP YOU OUT."

Mettaton zips over to the slumped over human.

"MY MY. SUCH A MESS YOU'VE MADE BACK HERE. GOOD THING NO MESS IS TOO BIG FOR MTT BRAND INDUSTRIAL CLEANER. IN STORES NOW."

The robot plugs his latest product in the middle of a show...real classy.

"what a jackass."

Scoffs Sans.

The other soundly agree.

"OKAY, DEAR, ALL YOU NEED TO DO IS STARE AT THE BUTTON YOU WANT TO ANSWER FOR AND I SHALL PUSH IT FOR YOU."

She tilts her head and stares.

"IS C YOU'RE FINAL ANSWER?"

She exhales long and loud through her nose.

"I'LL TAKE THAT AS A YES."

He unnecessarily extends his arm in a twisty and bendy way before pushing the C button. However...Buzzer sounds.

"OH BOY, THAT'S EMBARRASSING, HUH?"

This time he blasts through her right leg making her buckle in pain to the crimson soaked floor.

[HP ██████ 06/36]

[Background music briefly pauses in silence]

"WELL WELL WELL. THAT SETTLES THAT, DOESN'T IT?"

To much befuddlement, Mettaton proceeds to remove the restraints and gag from the broken girl.

"*weak* W-What are you doing?"

"SUCH A SILLY QUESTION. IF YOU DIE THE SHOW HAS NO DRAMATIC TENSION! WE CAN'T GO ON LIKE THIS!"

She's in no position to fight this or wants to. He collects her from the ground and seems to gently hold her in two of his arms. So much red coats just about everything. He then addresses one of the many hidden cameras in the room.

"I KNOW WHAT YOU ALL MIGHT BE THINKING. BUT METTATON, WHY AREN'T YOU GOING TO KILL THE HUMAN? YOU CLEARLY HAVE THE CHANCE. TO THAT I SAY, NO. SHE WON THIS GAME. AND THEREFORE, SHE PROCEEDS TO THE NEXT ROUND OF OUR LITTLE GAME. THAT'S RIGHT! THIS WAS JUST THE FIRST ACT! NEXT UP, MORE DRAMA! MORE ROMANCE! MORE BLOODSHED! STAY TUNED, LOSERS...! NOW IF YOU'LL EXCUSE ME...THIS LOVELY LADY NEEDS TO HEAL. WE'LL BE RIGHT BACK AFTER THESE COMMERCIAL MESSAGES."

The broadcast fades into commercials. The four of them are left with more questions than answers. But at least one thing is going in their favor. Mettaton wants to keep her alive. Perhaps in the next show, she'll appear in a location that's more recognizable and rescue can be done before anyone else tries to get her. Though the four of them weren't the only ones watching the show. A small indent in the window and ground below were all the tells of the sneaky flower. His mission now clear. Save his sister.

[Hotland Lad: Medical Room]

Alphys finishes setting up life-support systems by the time Mettaton wheels in with the now very near dead human.

"Put her here."

He need not be told twice.

"Some first act. She's almost dead."

Less of a reprimand and more of a statement by Alphys while she begins plugging the human into the machines.

"I WAS WORRIED NEAR THE END. HAD SHE MISSED ANOTHER QUESTION I MIGHT HAVE NEEDED TO GO OFF SCRIPT. MAIN CHARACTERS CAN'T DIE SO EARLY IN THE SHOW."

"You're just lucky I can fix this."

"WILL SHE NEED LONG TO HEAL?"

Alphys sticks in an IV drip and taps it for bubbles.

"Don't rush this. Your blast, while clean, went through a lot of muscle and bone. Not to mention all the blood that'll need to refill. That kind of stuff will need longer to repair."

"BUT...WE CAN'T JUST LEAVE COMMERCIALS GOING TILL THEN."

The annoyed scientist shoots him a look.

"Then I guess you need some filler till then."

Mettaton cringes.

"FILLER?! SUCH A DIRTY WORD. WHAT WOULD IT EVEN BE?"

"How about you figure that out elsewhere? I need to work. Or do you want this to take longer?"

That had him speeding away as she then shouts.

"And clean up all this blood! This is a lab! Not a butcher shop!"

She was unsure he heard all that but focused on monitoring the human.

"*sigh* You are so lucky I'm bored or you'd be under my knife right now."

The human involuntarily twitches, earning a smirk from the spectacle-wearing lizard.

"Maybe you'll heal sooner than expected."

Oh, how she enjoyed her work.

[nomnomsik]

Yandere hobi (or maybe even sope👀👀👀) meeting s/o’s parents for the first time

Home is With You

Word Count: 1.7K

A/N: I’m a bit busy this week, but I hope you like this. [UNEDITED]

Trigger warning: slight yandere-themes, angst, crying, topics of death. Please do not read if you are sensitive to these topics. 

Pure excitement. If anyone were to ask Hoseok how he was feeling that moment, he would say the excitement that all children seemed to possess. The excitement was so great that it kept him up at night, sweet daydreams and imaginations that filled up his mind as he spooned you from behind. 

As he inhaled the scent of kiwi and lime infused shampoo, his eyes slowly closed with bliss that flowed throughout his body. His alarm didn’t even get the chance to ring at 6:00 am. Hoseok’s body was programmed to awake as soon as possible, sitting up only for it to be 5:40 am. It was if his subconscious knew how important this day was. There was no room for any imperfections.

“Y/n, wake up, darling.” Hoseok cooed as he gently moved some of the bed sheets away from your body. You groaned, grabbing onto the blankets with a vice-like grip. Hoseok watched in amusement as you went back and forth with him, desperately trying to maintain the warmth they had so delicately given you.

“I said,” He stressed much more forcefully. “Wake up.” With a harsh tug, he ripped the sheets away from you, exposing to you to the cold air of the morning. Your head groggy, you mumbled, turning over to stare at the alarm clock.

“Hoseok, what in the- It’s not even 7 am.”

“I don’t care. You’re getting up and getting dressed.”

“Hoseok-”

“Now.”

You obediently sat up, stretching your arms overhead as you slipped your feet into fluffy slippers that cushioned every step you took. You hugged both sides of your body as the cold air bit at your skin. As soon as the bathroom door was pushed open, you immediately ran over the shower, blasting the hot water.

Hoseok, on the other hand, began humming as he looked at himself in the mirror. He brought his hand up to the buttons of his dress shirt, neatly clasping them in place. Turning his arm over, he brought his hand over to the cuff of his dress shirt, buttoning both sides before checking his reflection again.

His eyes shifted away from his reflection as he watched you stumble out of the bathroom completely dressed, but with only your hair stuffed and wrapped with a towel. With a violent shake of the foam container, he ushered toward the chair which you compliantly sat down in.

Hoseok smiled, spraying out hair mousse into his hands that he lathered onto your hair. You dozed off as your boyfriend evenly brushed your hair to the best of his ability.

“Now, this is what I call presentable.” He grinned, both of you looking at your own reflections. You bit your lip, looking melancholic as you stared at the carpeted floor of your bedroom. You just gave him a nod, standing up and walking down the hallway to the kitchen.

Hoseok joined you, sitting on one of the bar stools with his head propped up. “I’m so excited, y/n. I can’t wait to meet your parents.”

Much to his dismay, you kept a very private life from him. It wasn’t as if he had done anything wrong. But it was your constant fear, your personal fears, that made you distrust everyone besides yourself. As you rarely talked about your parents, Hoseok couldn’t help but grow curious, always asking you questions and their preferences.

There were times where he grew irritated and frustrated at your answers, always responding with ‘I don’t know’ or ‘They never told me’. For once, he wanted a straight answer. Who cares if you didn’t know exactly? Just make something up for once. Give him something. Anything. He would question himself, wondering if it was normal to wait this long before meeting another person’s parents.

It wasn’t like he was excited to meet them just for them. He needed to meet them, make a good impression, and seal your fate with him. They were a necessity, something absolute at the end of the day so he could ensure that you’d never be able to escape.

6:40 am. Hoseok grabbed the flowers he bought the day before, the plastic sound crinkling as he held onto it. The door to your shared apartment was shut closed, as Hoseok locked the front door. He led you, hand in hand, as you dozed off again in the elevator. His eyes stared at you with adoration as you cutely leaned onto his shoulder. Affection was something you rarely did.

With a soft ding, the elevator doors opened as the two of you stepped out, walking out of the lobby and outside into the pale sky of the early morning. Hoseok moved to the edge of the sidewalk, sticking his arm out in hopes to catch a cab. You stood idly next to him, bringing your spare hand up to cover your mouth as you left out a yawn.

“Don’t let go of my hand, y/n. You know how much I hate bringing you outside.”

“Mm…” you mumbled, too tired to function.

Hoseok smiled as a taxi flashed its lights, pulling up to the sidewalk. He opened the back door, stepping in as you followed behind.

“You aren’t sitting in the front seat?” You questioned, slamming the door of the car.

“Of course not. Why would I leave you all alone in the back?” He pouted, pretending to be offended before breaking into a smile.

The ride was quiet, the soft patter of raining filling up your ears as you stared out of the window. Hoseok closed his eyes as he let his body relax on the back cushions of the car. It was a long drive you had told him, your parents living far away from the cities and into the more suburban area. The silence was unusual for your lives that was filled with chaos most of the times. From the sloppy and brief kisses that were shared as you watched Hoseok sprint out the door to the hundreds of emails you responded to a day at home.

The holiday of the New Years gave you both the much-needed break. You spent the last few days before the year ended huddled in bed, listening to soft music and watching television. You had surprised him the night before, telling him you were hoping he’d join you as you visited your parents tomorrow.

“Starting the New Year off right.” He had said before you gave him a playful push.

The sound of the driver’s voice broke both of you out of your thoughts as Hoseok handed the man his payment. When you both stepped out, Hoseok stared up at the small houses that lined up the streets, a very sharp contrast to where you lived with him. There was so much space. Too much space. 

“Hoseok, is it okay if you cover your eyes as I lead you?” You asked nervously, tightening your grip on his hand.

“Of course, I won’t open them.” He promised, squeezing his eyes shut as you guided him. His ears picked up the sound of a small gate that you pushed open, his feet now on rougher terrain. He subconsciously gripped onto the flowers tighter than before as he took one step after another on the concrete sidewalk.

“O-okay… You can open.”

As he blinked back the harsh light that blinded him, he immediately noticed the lack of houses and the vast space of lush grass and flowers.

“Y/n, where…”

He watched as you squatted down, placing the flowers in between two plaques that sat next to each other. Hoseok felt his stomach lurch as he came to the realization of where he truly was. This wasn’t a dream. This was reality.

“Hi mom, hi dad.” You whispered, bringing your hand down to touch each plaque. “I brought my boyfriend here for the first time… I hope you like him… I like him a lot.”

A wave of sadness hit him, tears pricking in the corners of his eyes as he stared at the rows upon rows of plaques. There were people and families similar to you as you looked down with love and adoration.

“I graduated college like you wanted me to. Are you proud of me? I wish you could’ve been there with me.” You breathed out, taking multiple seconds to keep your composure. “I-I was so lonely…” You choked out, a tear threatening to spill.

“I miss you so much… Why’d you have to leave me all alone? I’m so scared…” You brought your arm up, wiping the tears that streamed down your cheeks.

“I’m sorry for not being there before you left. I’m sorry for not being the best daughter. I’m sorry…!” You gasped, tears flowing uncontrollably as you hiccuped. Hoseok touched his own face, feeling his hand touch the tears that streamed down.

“Y-y/n… I’m…so…. Sorry…” He gave you a hug from behind as you cried on his arm, your body convulsing uncontrollably with guilt and regret.

“Mom!” You cried out, your tears falling off your chin and onto the ground. “I’m sorry for never saying I love you back! I love you! I love both of you!”

Hoseok bit back his own sobs, burying his face into your shoulder as he was consumed with his own tears. The original thought of using your parents was flown out the window. That didn’t matter at this moment. You being completely his didn’t even register at this moment either. All that consumed his body was disgrace. As you dealt with the pain by yourself, he had selfishly thought for himself.

“Shh… Darling… I hope I can fill that hole in your heart. Seeing you cry like this hurts me so much…” Hoseok whispered, feeling your body relax a bit from his calming words. “I care about you so much. Thank you for trusting me enough to share this with me. I really… and I mean this, I really appreciate that you entrust me with sort of thing…”

You replied with a mutter that was muffled by his arm.

“What was that?”

“I think my parents like you too…”

Hoseok’s eyes beamed and softened. “I’m glad, y/n.”

[katalicz]

19 bliban if it tickles your fancy

of course my friend, here you go!!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17440433/chapters/49387754

“I could kill you right now!” 

Blitz has been awake for long enough to realise that he is, once more, in a hospital, when the door to his room swings open and Bandit appears, still in his gear and with a furious look on his face.

“You’re an idiot!” he bites out, striding forwards and throwing himself into the chair by Blitz’s bedside before Blitz can open his mouth to say hello. He can’t even protest that he isn't an idiot, because he isn't exactly sure what he’s done this time to end up here. The painkillers are making his entire body feel horribly fuzzy and his mind is still mostly blank from the anaesthetic, which is enough to tell him that he’s had more than a little fall, at least.

“Hi,” he says – or croaks, rather, since his throat feels as though he’s gargled a handful of gravel, and Bandit scowls before carefully guiding a cup of water he’s procured from seemingly nowhere to Blitz’s lips to allow him to drink.

“What time is it?” Blitz asks when he’s finished, watching as Bandit tosses the cup over his shoulder to land neatly in the bin. It’s very impressive, he thinks, but doesn’t say it for the fear of annoying Bandit more.

“It’s almost seven,” Bandit replies, crossing his arms. Blitz doesn’t have the strength to reach out and take one of his hands, which is a little concerning, but overall, that’s not too bad considering that the raid had started at eleven.

The thought must show on his face, because Bandit closes his eyes in frustration and says, “Seven am. You’ve been here for 15 hours, you idiot.”

Ah. That explains the fury, then, as well as the dark bags sitting like bruises beneath Bandit’s eyes. Knowing him, which Blitz is pleased to say he does, he’ll have been awake all this time, prowling through the hospital ward and making anyone he encounters shy away in terror.

“I feel fine,” he says mildly, and tries to wiggle his toes. They respond after a few attempts, thankfully, and he looks back up to see Bandit watching him with a worryingly unreadable look on his face. “It can’t have been that bad.”

“You don’t remember what happened,” Bandit says flatly, a statement instead of a question. Blitz winces when he has try harder than usual to shake his head no. “And stop moving before Doc sees you and ties you to the damn bench.”

“He wouldn’t do that,” Blitz muses, still trying and failing to read the look in Bandit’s eyes. He hopes it’s just the drugs making him slow; he’d spent a ridiculous amount of time learning to read Bandit’s many, many faces, and really doesn’t want to consider that he’s forgotten any of them. He’d probably earn an award for being a terrible boyfriend, if he had. “He likes me, I’m a good patient.”

Bandit blinks at him once, and Blitz’s heart lurches in his chest as the look fades from unreadable to completely blank in the way it only does when Bandit is shutting himself away from the world and away from any kind of emotion and away from Blitz.

“Dom?” he says, as gently as he can, and forces his arm out to grasp weakly at Bandit’s clenched hands.

It’s the wrong thing to do; Bandit lurches to his feet with a snarl, sending his chair clattering to the floor. His body is wrought with a tension that makes Blitz’s shoulders ache to look at, and he wants to reach out, to sit up and draw him close, but he can’t.

“Bandit—” he starts weakly, not knowing what else to do. For a painful beat nothing happens, then Bandit is turning on his heal and storming away with a cold fury that makes Blitz’s chest hurt to watch.

“You almost died!” Bandit snaps, eyes glinting dangerously when he turns, and Blitz’s breath catches in his throat as the meaning of the words sink in. “You took a bullet an inch away from your goddamn spine, you absolute fucking idiot—”

“I didn’t, though,” Blitz hears himself say, even as his blood seems to freeze in his veins with terror, as his pulse thunders in his ears.  “It’s okay, I’m fine.”

Bandit pauses in his tracks to stare at him, and Blitz’s skin prickles under the intensity of his gaze. “I could kill you right now!” Bandit snarls, resuming his pacing of the room, his hands clenched into tight fists that will leave him with a headache if he carries on much longer.

“Please don’t, we spent a lot of time fixing him,” Doc interrupts, appearing in the doorway and smiling wanly at Blitz.

Bandit throws a thunderous glare at him but doesn’t reply, and Doc watches him for a moment before cautiously making his way to Blitz’s bedside.

“How do you feel?” he asks gently, and Blitz closes his eyes for a moment to pull himself together. When he opens them, Doc is watching calmly, the eye of the storm that’s still quite literally raging around them.

“Sore,” he replies, wincing as his voice cracks and gratefully accepting the cup of water Doc offers him.

“As you’ve probably heard, you were quite lucky,” Doc says as Blitz drinks, and Blitz has the feeling that he’d be in for a lecture if Doc weren’t looking so worn out. “It wasn’t quite so bad as Bandit was making out, since he ran off when one of the nurses told him to prepare for the worst, which due to the position of the bullet, we initially believed were paralysis or stroke.”

There’s a distressed sound at that which Blitz eventually realises came from him, and a brief pause in pacing when Bandit appears to trip over his own feet. Blitz inhales deeply, holds it for a count of five to try and stop himself from panicking, and exhales.

“What was it actually, then?” he asks quietly, and Doc smiles wanly.

“The bullet was almost stopped by your armour and ended up lodged four centimetres to the left of your upper thoracic spine. The shockwave from the impact would have done the most damage, and whilst we were worried about the risk of paralysis for a while, the MRIs and ultrasound show no damage to the spinal cord or surrounding structures due to low-velocity and low-calibre.” Doc folds his hands together and shrugs.  “We did surgery to remove the bullet, flushed the area to prevent infection, sealed a small tear to your dura, and stitched you up. Easy as that.”

Nothing about it seems easy to Blitz but he nods weakly anyway and closes his eyes again, unwilling to look at Doc’s tired face, at Bandit’s wrath. “That’s good,” he says weakly, and hears Bandit snort from somewhere to his left. “I’m glad it wasn’t a rifle shot.” He’s only half joking, and winces with regret when Bandit curses at him and resumes his stomping with increased vigour.

“So am I,” Doc says quietly, “because then we would be faced with the worst.”

There’s sombre silence for a second, broken only by Bandit’s frantic footsteps, before Doc sighs. “Will you please sit down?” he asks quietly, and the pacing stops, leaving the room uncomfortably quiet. “I’ll sedate you if not; you’re only making yourself worse.”

“Fuck you,” Bandit growls, from much closer now, and a hot hand closes around Blitz’s own. If he clings onto it with enough force to feel the bones shift slightly, Bandit doesn’t seem to notice, and Doc doesn’t seem to care.

He forces his eyes open to find Bandit sat down again, elbow on his knee and face hidden by his free hand. Doc is still watching worriedly, and shrugs a shoulder when Blitz meets his eyes.

“We’ll need to keep you here overnight before returning to base,” he says apologetically, dragging a hand through his hair. “Just to make sure there are no complications from the surgery. Then we’ll do some tests to ensure the nervous system is functioning properly, which shouldn’t take too long.”

Blitz nods, even as fear flutters through his stomach. Bandit’s grip tightens on his hand to the point where it’s almost painful. “How long will it take to recover?” he asks, not really wanting to hear the answer.

Doc sighs. “Not too long, we hope. There will be some muscle weakness due to the surgery but that should pass within a week, and you should be back to normal within a month, with any luck.”

Blitz squeezes Bandit’s hand again and relaxes for the first time since waking up. “That’s not too bad then,” he says, and Doc smiles again.

“Not too bad at all,” he confirms. “Though if you do it again, you’ll be benched from the team until you learn not to run directly into the line of fire like an idiot.”

“I’ll kill you myself if you do it again,” Bandit says hoarsely, peering up through his fingers and scowling fiercely. The effect is ruined by the redness rimming his eyes and the slight tremble to his shoulders, and Blitz’s heart aches for him.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, smiling tiredly at the small “fuck you,” he earns for his trouble, and startling when Doc stands up to stretch.

“Anyway,” Doc says, stepping back and checking the line of machines along the wall. “I’ll give you another dose of painkillers but won’t bother putting you under again so we can finish the tests. And if you can persuade him to at least get changed, we’d all be very grateful.” He shoots a mildly amused look at Bandit, who flips him off half-heartedly, and Blitz wrinkles his nose in sympathy with the medical staff. His gear is still filthy with the usual dust and grime from being in the field, and he probably stinks of sweat and gunpowder too.

“I’ll do my best,” he promises, grimacing as Doc fiddles with the machine hooked to the IV line and sends an uncomfortably cool flood of fluid into his veins. The pain that had slowly been building up between his shoulders lessens immediately, though, and he can’t help the small sigh of relief that escapes him.

Doc rolls his eyes and heads for the door. “You should have said it was hurting,” he scolds, “I would have given them to you first.”

“No you wouldn’t,” Blitz replies mildly, but Doc’s already gone, and suddenly the room feels far smaller.

“Don’t you dare do that again,” Bandit says quietly, voice gravelly and breathing loud. “I’m serious. I thought you were dead, when you went down.”

A painful lump forms in Blitz’s throat. “I’m sorry,” he whispers again, closing his eyes. He’s hit with a wave of exhaustion, the painkillers and emotions and adrenaline getting the better of him, and when he opens his eyes again, he’s unsurprised to find his vision blurred and cheeks damp.

Bandit watches him quietly, thumb pressing firmly into the back of his hand. The empty storm in his eyes is gone, replaced with a tired sort of fear that Blitz is all too familiar with, from missions gone wrong and too many close calls, from nightmares and memories and silly accidents on base that shouldn’t be as frightening as walking into a gunfight but somehow are.

When he’s pulled himself together, he squeezes Bandit’s hand again and smiles weakly at him. “You look like shit, by the way,” he says teasingly. “It’s a good job I can’t smell you or I’d probably be in a coma.”

Bandit rolls his eyes and leans forward to rest his elbow on the bed. “I’ll go and shower when they come and do your tests,” he promises. “The nurses here are a bit nervous.”

“They’re probably not usually, you’re just a bit terrifying,” Blitz yawns. “You knocked over a chair, nearly stomped through the floor, and threatened to kill me. Twice. It’s enough to make anyone nervous.”

Bandit rolls his eyes, presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth, and doesn’t look sorry in the slightest.

[another-sonic-blog]

That Makes Us Two: Chapter 4: Sleep

Finally, they had some proper rest. After the previous day, Shadow and Amy needed a few hours of sleep.

Especially Shadow

Strangely, and as to her conclusion, Amy didn't feel tired on the least and this was only because she was in Shadow's body.

Being the Ultimate Life Form, Shadow's body didn't need sleep to function properly. However, just for the pleasure of it, his body would oblige and get a nap.

For the first in his life, as inside being Amy's body, Shadow was utterly exhausted. He had to admit, that it was nice, to feel this normal.

Just normal.

It was day time when had arrived at their next destination. This time, Shadow knew where they were going and guided Amy through the whole flight time. Once they landed on land, and settle in their tents, Shadow had told Amy one thing only before drifting into sleep.

"Do not...I repeat...Do NOT touch anything...wait for me to wake up."Amy nodded as she was more fascinated by the place than worried by Shadow's words.

As Shadow went to sleep, Amy waited outside. Looking around the Island she noticed blue and hot pink trees, something that she had never seen before. Plants and flowers that weren't written on the books she had read before; animals and insects that that were alienated yet cosmically beautiful.

No wonder why this place was called "Dream Island"

Shadow said to not touch anything, but he didn't say she couldn't go exploring, right?

Is everything went alright, she didn't have to see an angry Shadow today.

Amy walked slowly as to not wake up Shadow. She made sure that she was far away from the camp before she began running.

She ran as fast as she could getting the adrenaline through her body. The feeling was amazing, the feeling of being able to go where-ever you wanted, whenever you wanted...that feeling of power, of being on top of the world...

She appreciated it, but it wasn't for her.

She liked taking her time. Appreciating each fragment in life, all living things, small or big. She liked going slow and steady, enjoying each moment, savoring it slowly.

She had now realized how different she was from Sonic.

and she wonders if Shadow felt the same.

She walked some more and as clumsy as she is, she stumbles upon a large and thick tree root. She laid on her tummy for a while thinking how lucky she was that she was in Shadow's body. She felt fine and was ready to stand up, but as soon as she held her head up she noticed a large mushroom in front of her...and the mushroom had eyes, a mouth, and small hands and feet.

"Oro"

"AAAAHHHHHHH!"

Her loud scream was heard all the way to the camp.

"I told her to not touch anything", Shadow mumbled as he woke up from his slumber. He quickly stood up and got out of his tent. He looked around the area but didn't find Amy anywhere near the camp. Shadow then, ran towards the scream.

Amy stumble as she felt sleep take over her. She could hear a river nearby and decided to go there to clean herself up a bit before she went back to the camp. The giant Mushroom had thrown at her face some kind of yellow powder, kinda like pollen. It covered all of her body and she was beginning to feel itchy about it...and sleepy too for some reason.

She had finally made it to the river and washed her face with the cold water, hoping that maybe, that way her sleepiness could go away.

She looked at her reflection on the water.

Well, more like Shadow's reflection.

Dammit...he is attractive.

She thought as she appreciated Shadow's features more. He had beautiful red-colored eyes, his face was delicate where it needed to be but strong at the same time. Perfect teeth, and if he tried a little bit more; the perfect smile. It wasn't only his face, but his body as well. Slender and fit, not too bulky, just perfect. Every aspect of his physic was well balanced and-

WHY AM I THINKING ABOUT HIM?!

She already had a boyfriend, a secret one on the least, Sonic. There was no one but him in her heart. Now and forever.

She loved him very dearly since they were kids and now they were finally together. She loved him and he loved her.

Right?

Amy laid down on the grass as she drifted on her thoughts, looking at the blue wide sky.

Sonic...

Sonic...

Sonic...

Shad-

.

.

.

Shadow swore that she was going to give a piece of his mind to the pink one once he finds her. He kept looking all over the place, and even went back to the camp several times.

Didn't she know how annoying it was to walk?

And the pain it was to run?

As the Ultimate Life Form, if Shadow wanted to go somewhere, he just ran. Front and back without getting tired. Now he had to worry about keeping a constant breathing pattern if he didn't want to get tired too fast.

It was just so annoying being a normal Mobian.

After walking some more, he had finally found her.

Sleeping.

Now she's really going to get it.

Making him worried and panic, he was really about to start screaming her name and she dared to be asleep?

Not like he cared enough about her to do that, no, this girl was as worth as trash to him. Yeah, she didn't matter at all, but that wasn't the case right now,

Who in the world did this girl think she was?

Shadow decided to have good use of the River. He was going to wake up Amy in the worst way. He mustered up all of the strength and rolled her to the river.

Wow, I am heavy. I should work out more.

He thought as he successfully placed Amy on the river with aloud 'Splash!'

He waited for her to start screaming at him, angry and irritated.

He waited a few seconds.

And a few more

"SH*T!"

Shadow jumped to the river and as he tried to pick up Amy, he struggled way too much. Her whole body was wet and the water and its current made it difficult for him to raise her.

He got desperate, this was supposed to be a stupid prank. This wasn't supposed to escalate so drastically.

Why in the world she hasn't woken up?"

Finally, Shadow felt Amy's body being lifted by an unknown force. He was too concentrated on getting out of the water himself that he hadn't noticed that a local Villager had come to help him.

Shadow finally got out of the water and sighed in relief to see that Amy was breathing.

"Seems like I got here at the right time." The villager said as he looked at Shadow.

"Yes...Yes, you did."

.

.

.

Shadow well knew Dream Village, a few years back, he had lived within the community. Everyone knew him, and so, the whole village showed concern when the body of Shadow the hedgehog was brought up to the Queen of the Village. Of course, no one knew that the one inside Shadow's body was Amy.

The doors of the castle open as he recognizes an old friend running towards them.

"What happened? What did you do to him?" The Queen asked Shadow angrily, unaware that she was, in fact, talking to Shadow himself.

"There's a lot of things I have to tell you, Elena."

.

.

.

"So, you switched bodies with the pink one? She is trapped in your body and you are trapped in hers?", Elena asked Shadow. They were both on a bedroom, watching Amy sleep. Shadow in one corner of the room, arms crossed; he placed his right foot on the wall to be more comfortable. Elena the fox, Queen of Dream Village, delicately sat on a chair next to the black hedgehog's body.

"Yes, and now for some reason, she can't wake up."

"Doctors have told me she must have scared a Yume Mushroom, making it release a powder that makes you sleep."

"Is it curable?"

"Yes"

"Well, will you tell me what's the cure?"

"First answer me something" Elena stood up from her chair and walked across the room towards Shadow. "Why did you come back?"

"To get our bodies back, we need to find the broken pieces and put them back together to form the Purple Gem...and we know one of the pieces is here," Shadow said as he looked at the red fox on the eyes.

"So...you didn't come back for me?", She questioned.

"If I had come because of you, believe me, I wouldn't show up in this body." Shadow tried to move away but Elena had grabbed him by the arm, making him look to her blue gaze.

"I don't care in what body you are..." Elena took a few seconds to get closer to his face. " You could stay like this and be with me...you know that I never cared if its a boy or a girl, it's you who I like...and your friend's body is not bad. Actually, is pretty above average, a very beautiful hedgehog indeed."

"I am honored your majesty, but", Shadow was finally able to break free from her grasp. He walked towards Amy's bed. " I don't feel comfortable in this body, I would very much like my body back...so, could you please tell me how to wake up Amy and give me the broken fragment of the Purple Gem?"

"Being on the wrong body...is something I had to live with since I was small, so I know what you must feel like...Fine, I'll give you the piece of the broken Purple Gem but under one condition..." Elena had changed her go flirty attitude to a more serious one. "Once you put the Purple Gem back together and have returned to your body, bring me the Purple Gem...there's something I must do with it."

"Yes, my Queen."

Shadow didn't bow but smiled at his old friend. Shadow had to confess that she was probably the only person who had his respect. She had helped him localize all the Chaos Emerald before without asking a single question, she had confided in him and him in her. They had a long history together that it would be too long to describe in a single paper.

Elena smiled back. "Well, the only way to wake up your friend is...with a kiss."

"I didn't you as one to joke around," Shadow said.

"That's because I don't make jokes." Elena simply said. She knew she had lost the battle as soon as she Shadow's worried face. Shadow could have been a great friend to her, but not even once in their years of friendship had Shadow showed such emotion towards her or anyone.

The pink one must be changing him and for the better.

"...Fine." Shadow didn't want to think too much about it. It was just a kiss, just lips against lips...nothing more. No feelings were needed.

So then, why was his heart beating so fast?

For Chaos' sake, it was just the pink brat, why was he getting so nervous for?

Come on Shadow, just do it!

He was slowly getting closer and closer to her face, he closed his eyes as soon as he felt her breathing coming out of her nose. Any minute now, their lips would touch...just right now.

"PERVERT!"

Shadow felt Amy's hammer hit against his head, making him fall to the floor.

"WHAT THE HECK ROSE, I WAS TRYING TO WAKE YOU UP!", Shadow said as he quickly stood up from the floor, facing her.

"YOU WERE GOING TO KISS ME WHILE I WAS ASLEEP!" Amy said screaming at him, rapidly standing from her bed.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you, Shadow..." Elena had an evil smile on her face. "Before entering the room, I had sent a knight to kiss Amy and she woke up...that still doesn't explain why she was asleep when we entered."

"YOU WERE EAVESDROPPING ON US!", Shadow exclaimed.

"IT WASN'T LIKE THERE WAS ANYTHING WORTH EAVESDROPPING ON! IT WAS JUST YOU BEING A HORNY TEENAGER!",Amy turned her face away from the black hedgehog, not wanting to show her anger.

"YOU LITTLE BRAT, I SHOULD HAVE LEFT YOU SLEEP FOREVER!"

"YOU NEED ME TO SWITCH BODIES BACK, IDIOT!"

Elena smiled to herself.

She had made the right choice

.

.

"Can you pass me the water?" Shadow asked Amy as it was his turn to pilot the Tornado.

"Why don't you ask Elena, I am sure she would love to give it to you.", Amy said with a mocking face.

"Thanks to her we got one broken piece of the Purple Gem, food and a warm bed and you are angry at her? What did she do to you?"

"It's not like you would understand, you guys move your tails whenever a beautiful girl passes by." Amy kept looking at the sea, even to her it was strange to get this angry.

"Are you...jealous?",Shadow asked.

Amy snapped her head to look at him. "Me? Jealous? I-I, no! Don't get confused idio-

"Because that's good! Now you know how it feels!", Shadow said without thinking.

"What?"

"Whenever I walk around the Villages, guys look at my body, your body! I can't help but want to punch them in the face and-"

Shoot.

Shadow realized that he had been talking none stop. That his thoughts came out of his mouth without him noticing. He looked at Amy who had an evident tint of pink on her cheeks. "Not like I am jealous! I couldn't care less, I just hate everybody and want to punch everyone just because! This is me just looking for excuses to punch everyone!"

Shadow began to panic, his had begun to sweat and Amy still had no response whatsoever.

"UHG, JUST FORGET WHAT I SAID...JUST FORGET IT... I HATE YOU DAMMIT!

.

.

.

.

.

.

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Previous: https://another-sonic-blog.tumblr.com/post/186691118880/that-makes-us-two-chapter-3-affliction

[veroticker]

The librarian’s vampire assistant book 4 - Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

You can buy the book on Amazon.

Summary (from Mimi Jean Pamfiloff’s website)

SHE’S MINE. BUT HAS SHE FORGOTTEN?

A crazy vampire has stolen my librarian. And if that’s not bad enough, it is my fault. Because I, too, am an ancient, deadly vampire, and it was my job to protect her. I failed.

Now, just as I have reason to hope I will get her back, the situation turns into the biggest mystery of my existence.

Apparently, this evil vampire has brainwashed her into thinking she belongs with him. I do not know how. I do not know why. But I will get to the bottom of this and win her back.

Because I am the motherf*!$%ing librarian’s vampire assistant, and she belongs to me. Or, at least she used to?

Blurb

““Michael, please come home,” Lula whimpers through the other end of my cell phone. “I’m begging you. It’s been over a year. This. Has. To. End.”

Why the hell is she telling me this? I know. I goddamned well know! I am the one who is dirty, tired, underfed, and at the end of my rope.

“I’m sorry, Lula,” I say, gazing out across the turquoise blue waters of the Marmara Sea from my suite in Istanbul, “but nothing has changed. I will never stop looking for Miriam.” I’ve traveled to the caves of Borneo, searched every oasis along the Sahara Desert, and combed through every major city, remote island, and five-star resort. I have flipped over thousands of rocks and followed hundreds of leads from vampires who’ve interacted with the legendary, ruthless, and one-lightbulb-shy-of-a-functioning-table-lamp vampire, Mr. Nice.

Wherever he’s taken my librarian, it’s somewhere off the grid. My heart sinks into my dirty leather boots. I miss Miriam more than words can say. I cannot breathe without her.

Lula sighs remorsefully. “You’re my brother, Michael— but in a non-creepy way since we aren’t actually related and did sleep together once. What I mean to say is that you mean more to me than just a best friend or sharing the same maker, which is why you give me no choice. I have to put my foot down and tell you the truth: You’re never going to find Miriam, and it’s time you face it. She’s gone.”

I turn away from the sherbet orange sunset melting into the deep blue ocean, the sound of crashing waves to my back and the cool December wind whipping through my dark unkempt hair. It is a surprise this hotel gave me a room because I look like I rolled out of a dumpster. Or clawed my way from a vegetable garden. I think they did not want to upset me. I carry an ominous vibe these days.

“Lula, she is not gone. Miriam is hidden. By a very powerful, delusional vampire. I could no more cease looking for her than I would for you if you were taken.”

“You say that, but at some point you have to accept reality and throw in the towel.”

“Never.” I am over four hundred years old, and Miriam is the only woman who’s ever managed to pierce my cold heart with love’s arrow. She made me see what life could be like if I faced my demons and let down my guard. Now that I have had a taste, I cannot go back to the hollow, emotionless vampire I once was. I need her in my life. Her, and her first-edition books. So. Many…”

(review under the cut)

Review

I doubt I’ll be able to do justice to the book in my review. I felt so strongly while reading it, and I can’t get out of it, I can’t write an objective review.

So let’s just say that, if you got attached to the characters in the previous books, especially Michael, you’re in for an adventure, and it’ll be both joyful and painful. So many things happen to them, they go from high to the very low.

Even with all that, you’ll still find the meta humor that you surely loved before. But although it isn’t the darkest book in the series, it’s still intense.

I really don’t know what more to say without giving away some plot. So... I’ll be waiting for the next book.

Quickie

Series: The librarian’s vampire assistant #4 (it’s a serial)

Hashtags: #paranormal romance #romantic suspense #vampire #surprise pregnancy

Trigger: vampire violence, drug use

Main couple: Miriam Murphy & Michael Vanderhorst

Hotness: 2/5

Romance: 5/5

+ so many strong emotions

- Michael’s journey seemed a bit too much (although necessary)

  Stalker mode

You can suscribe to Mimi Jean Pamfiloff’s newsletter on her website.

You can also follow her on Facebook.

[stranger-who-writes-fiction]

a pal and a confidant

Fandom: Supergirl Rating: T Pairing(s): None Summary: Director Danvers and Supergirl might not be sisters anymore, but maybe they can be friends. A/N:This isn’t k*lex. If I see anybody tag it as such? Yer blocked.

...

Kara hisses, experimentally probing the cut for the umpteenth time only to confirm what she already knows.

Yeah. There's Kryptonite in there.

Off-brand Kryptonite. Kara would laugh if it didn't hurt to do so. Ever since the aerosol Kryptonite stunt pulled by Otis and Mercy, there's been an uptick in Green-K knock-offs. Very few have been potent enough to have any sort of discernible damage, and Kara has to admit, the look of shock on a would-be assailant's face as she shrugs off the glowing rock is pretty satisfying.

This batch, though.

She takes a deep breath, tipping her head back against the cool brick of the semi-abandoned warehouse. She experimentally narrows her eyes, trying to engage her x-ray vision. It...works? Maybe? She's dizzy; the image of the interior of the building across the way tilts and wavers out of focus. But that could just be the result of the pain.

She takes another deep breath and wonders if she should test something else, like strength or flight, but the prospect of falling several stories onto hard concrete is...very unappealing.

Maybe I can...take it out...? She steels herself, gritting her teeth as she seeks out the offending shard.

As soon as she touches it, white hot pain shoots up her side.

NOPEnopenope. She cringes, tears forming at the corners of her eyes. It's not like the Kryptonite bullet she once extracted from her arm—a single oblong object that was easy to grip and extract.

This is a weird jagged shape, lodged deep in the lower right side of her abdomen. She thinks she can probably get a decent grip on the one edge...but she might pass out before she can pull it entirely free.

And just as she wants to avoid faceplanting on concrete, she'd also like to avoid being passed out in an alleyway, with Children of Liberty and DEO Agents combing the surrounding area.

She bites back an annoyed grunt. Three weeks ago, she would've welcomed being found by the DEO retrieval team. Being safely escorted back to headquarters for some time under the solar lamps? To be treated by medical staff with actual, sterile surgical tools to extract the Kryptonite shard? Great! Perfect! Bring it on!

Now, she can't imagine being unconscious, at the mercy of Haley and her agents, for an undisclosed amount of time. Nightmarish images of waking up in a containment cell as Haley continues her witch hunt fill her mind, strengthening her resolve to steer clear of them.

Which solves the one problem, but creates another.

What is she going to do?

J'onn's office is too far, as is CatCo. She briefly considers L-Corp, but recalls the underground lab where Sam was kept, and the same sort of uneasiness that accompanied the thoughts of the DEO resurfaces. Besides. It's just as far as CatCo, back in the heart of the city.

She feels hot and nauseous. She doesn't have a lot of time here...

“—sure the scene is secure, Director Danvers, and then report back to HQ.”

“...Yes ma'am.”

Kara doesn't catch the full conversation—her ears are ringing and it's possible that the longer the Kryptonite is lodged in her side, the more her powers are affected—but it's enough to know that her sister is here, and won't be traveling back with Haley.

But she's not your sister, Kara thinks, glancing down at her uniform. Not right now, anyway. It's almost enough to make Kara reconsider. To bite the bullet, so to speak, and try to fly out to J'onn's office.

But the torn, frayed edges of the dark blue fabric—which is now closer to a deep purple—is what ultimately forces her away from the support of the brick wall, and out into the alleyway. She sways slightly, and presses a hand to the cut, not liking the pain or the unpleasant, hot stickiness on her palm.

She carefully surveys the main street, making sure to remain out of sight. There aren't as many agents as she feared—there's only a handful of them, eight at most, congregating near two nondescript black SUVs.

She spots Alex off to one side, talking to another agent. Her motorcycle is parked nearby.

A plan begins to form. A risky one, certainly, but far less risky than flying to L-Corp or handing herself over to Haley.

“Bag the rest of the evidence,” Alex is saying. The agent nods; she's essentially giving him the same instructions Haley gave her, which means she's just about ready to leave.

Kara takes a step back, and surveys the nearest building. Like most of the structures in the area, it's brick. Flat roof, two stories.

She hastily runs the numbers in her head—she won't be able to clear it, necessarily. Not in her current weakened, rapidly-de-powering state. But then, she doesn't want to clear it. She just needs a better vantage point.

This is gonna hurt, she sighs, gathering the last vestiges of her strength.

She jumps.

And just barely clears the roof line. She does land on her feet...and then almost immediately drops to her knees with a pained wheeze. Her side is on fire, and she's sure she's just buried the Kryptonite shard deeper.

She hears the motorcycle rev on the street below. Panting with effort, she forces herself to the far side of the roof, and just as she thought, Alex is leaving the scene, turning down...Cypress? Mission?

It doesn't matter—it's a street within jumping distance.

...She hopes.

Even as the world tips dangerously to one side, and something...pulls, distressingly so, in her side, Kara still takes several steps back and leaps once more, praying to Rao that she's guessed mostly right.

She lands in the middle of the darkened street. The asphalt gives a little, because she's misjudged the force, and resulting uneven surface forces her off balance. She almost pulls that aforementioned concrete faceplant.  

That, though, is the least of her concerns, as Alex barrels towards her on her bike.

The glare of the headlights is blinding; she's too weak to move. The jump took every last ounce of powers and strength she had. If Alex hits her...it's not going to be good.

She sluggishly brings up an arm to...what? Cushion the blow of a four hundred pound Ducati?

The tires screech, and the bike swerves to one side, perilously close. Kara flinches, but all she can feel is a slight back draft.

She wheezes with relief, physically sagging as the bike's engine cuts out. Kara hears Alex's helmet being tossed to one side, landing with a sharp CRACK on the pavement.

“What the hell—!” she starts to shout, but it tapers off as she gets closer to Kara.

Kara, who is currently on her knees and very nearly bent completely in half as her entire right side throbs. “Um. Sorry,” she says. “Didn't mean...to get so close...”

Alex's eyes are wide with shock and confusion. “What hap—” she starts to say, only to change her mind. “Stay here,” Alex commands, and Kara panics a little as she turns to run back to her bike and, presumably, the other agents.

“No!” Kara rasps. Alex keeps hurrying to the bike. Kara tries again, “You can't—Director Danvers!”

Her voice is firmer. Stronger. Alex stops. “I don't...” Kara pauses. Partially because she's a little breathless, and partially because she has to be careful here. She has to get Alex on her side. Kara doesn't really know what's survived, in terms of Alex's memories of Supergirl—she's not sure even J'onn knows, given how deeply entrenched they were in Alex's psyche—so it's not like she can reliably say, hey, remember that time you helped me out after that brush with Kryptonite poisoning?

It hurts to imagine Alex being ambivalent about the K-Radiation and anti-Kryptonite suit—and, more importantly, dwelling on it is unproductive.

So she thinks instead about...about the DEO, actually, and about all the irate venting Alex's been doing, lately.

“I don't trust Haley,” Kara says. “I need help...and I don't trust Haley.”

She can't see straight and she's barely conscious, but she can see the blurry shape of Alex caught between her slumped form and the bike. She's considering what Kara has said, and Kara knows she's got her.

She's feeling pretty smug about it. She's never been on the 'enemy' side of ‘the enemy of my enemy...is my friend.’ It feels kinda...badass. She smiles. Or...is she actually smiling? She can't feel her face.

“Damn it,” she can hear Alex mutter. She's vaguely aware of her arm being thrown over Alex's shoulder, and being awkwardly lifted-and-or-dragged to the motorcycle...

But then she's out.

And then she's not, when shockingly cold water is tossed on her face.

Kara sputters awake, irritated (thanks to the water) and still in pain (presumably, thanks to the Kryptonite still in her side.)

“Don't move.”

It's Alex, her voice gruff and close by. Kara blinks the water from her eyes, and turns to see her sister seated on one of the bar stools in her apartment, slightly hunched, examining her injury.

“Am I...” the words scrape over Kara's dry throat, “on—a table?” She almost says your table, but catches herself. Supergirl's not supposed to know this is Alex's apartment.

“I didn't want you bleeding on my couch,” Alex tells her. And Kara has to admit...that’s fair. “I don't have any equipment here, just basic first aid supplies.” She finally looks at Kara. Her expression is hard. “It's going to be...messy.”

Kara gives a halting nod. She understands, but. She's not looking forward to it.

Alex nods back—sharp and sure. She disappears from Kara's view, and seconds later, Kara can hear the kitchen faucet running.

Kara let's her head fall back on what is definitely Alex's dining room table. She can feel the woven table runner, functioning as a kind of makeshift pillow.

Alex eventually reappears—she's still in her DEO gear, but her magnet gloves have been swapped out with bright blue latex. A plastic box with a bright red cross on the side sits at the far end of the table.

“Will this work on you?” Kara turns her head to see a bottle of alcohol in Alex's grip. She can't read the label—everything's going a little fuzzy again.

“Uh...” She's certain she doesn't have her powers, so the answer is probably yes. But as she glances down at her side, and sees her hand resting on the table, she notices the bright green glow of Kryptonite poisoning.

Is it a good idea, to mix alcohol and Green-K?

“Yeah,” she says, ultimately deciding that she'd rather risk it, than be aware during what's about to transpire. She weakly accepts the bottle, and gets a good look at the green veins snaking down the back of her hand.

Not good.

She takes a swig, and promptly coughs it up, unprepared for the burn.

Alex rolls her eyes in annoyance.

“You're wasting a very expensive bottle of vodka,” she says. Kara squints at the label. Alex doesn't typically buy vodka...

And then it occurs to her that she bought this for Alex. A gift for being promoted to 'Director' several months back. 

(She’s not sure if she should feel grateful, that Alex is using it for this, or a little offended.) 

“Sorry,” she croaks, and does her best to keep it down the second time.

She does. She takes another prolonged gulp.

“Alright,” Alex grabs it before she can take a third, “that's enough.”

“Sorry,” she says again. “Least I didn't...waste it.”

“No,” Alex agrees, “but I needed some for this.” With very little ceremony, Alex douses Kara's side with some of the remaining liquor.

Kara's only just starting to feel the pleasant burn of the alcohol; the sting in her side is enough to make her clench her fists as she lets out a kind of pained grunt.

“It's only going to get worse,” Alex warns in a flat tone. But then, she softens, just marginally, as she explains to Kara exactly what she's going to do. Kara listens, and only manages to catch about...twenty percent?

Thirty? Twenty-four? She lets her head fall back again as she considers the numbers.

She can feel Alex poking at the cut. Kara fidgets, unconsciously tensing muscles. But her leg throbs, like it's been bruised.

“Don't move,” Alex says sternly.

“How come...my leg hurts?” Kara's words are starting to slur a little. Has she always been this sensitive to alcohol?

“...I had to bungee you to the back of my bike,” Alex admits under her breath. 

Kara blinks, and realizes that she never really considered how Alex managed to get her back here, on a motorcycle, while she was passed out.

Again, she’s not sure if she should be feeling grateful or insulted, but as she tries to imagine the scene, all she can think is that it’s...very funny.

She laughs, only to have her breath stolen away as pain flares in her side. “I said don't move.” Alex repeats, and Kara resolves to remain as still as possible.

Don't move. I can do that. I'm great at not moving...just like I'm great at stealth. Does Alex still remember that I'm really good at stealth? ...Does she know anything about Krypton?

Kara's thoughts are a jumbled mess, and she's not sure if she's out of it because of the buzz or the blood loss.

“I can't really see—it looks like—” There's a frustrated grunt. Then the scrape of the stool against hard wood. The rumble of one of the drawers in the kitchen—the junk drawer, probably, given how much rummaging follows. The drawer closes. Alex's footsteps approach. And then the soft click of a flashlight turning on, and more probing. “I think the shard's intact.”

She probably knows it blew up. Everyone knows it blew up. Does she know about the Phantom Zone?

Wait, wait. Does she know...does she remember Astra?

Of course she'd have to remember Astra. Or at least...partially remember that event...

But...Kara remembers Alex's hardened stare, back in Parthas. Her claims of Kara's invulnerability, and her denial that Kara could ever understand...could ever conceive of anything else. 

There were so many times when Kara was vulnerable. Emotionally raw, and hurting.

And Alex doesn’t remember any of that. 

Alex, who is currently saying something about pulling out a shard. Kara doesn't care, she's too busy thinking her frenzied, distressed thoughts. Everything she'd talked about with J'onn becomes far too real, as she stares at Alex's ceiling; Alex, who regards her as a complete and total stranger.

Kara feels a sudden tug. Her nerve endings seize.

And then she's out again.

When she awakens the second time, she's still on the table, but Alex's apartment is dark, and Alex is nowhere to be found.

It takes much longer to rouse herself without the aid of the cold water, but eventually, her vision steadies, and there's a distinct soreness that runs...the entire length of her body, really. But the sharp, stabbing pain of the cut and the all-over burn of the Kryptonite are both gone.

She shifts experimentally—both to test her side, and to see if maybe Alex is asleep in bed, or on the couch.

She isn't. Kara sluggishly attempts to reason on why that could be...did she go back to the DEO? Maybe...Kara vaguely remembers something about...Haley? Something about Haley...and then, of course, the impromptu game of Operation, wherein she was the poor schmuck under the knife.

Her temple throbs. Right. A game of Operation, with a side of very expensive, very potent vodka. She runs a hand over the ruined portion of her uniform, noting the presence of a bandage and again marvels at the fact that she can barely feel any pain. Alex did a really good job, all things considered.  

But there's the headache to keep in mind; without the DEO solar lamps, her powers are taking their dear, sweet time coming back.

Stupid Kryptonite, she thinks. Stupid Haley. Stupid DEO. She wonders if she's maybe a little hungover.

Long minutes tick by, and still, no Alex. Kara drums her fingers against the table top. She's not at one-hundred percent, but she has just enough energy to be a little restless.

Maybe she should just...leave.

She turns the thought over in her mind. That feels...wrong, somehow.

Wrong to Kara Danvers, she reminds herself. But maybe Supergirl should take off, before Director Danvers comes back and grouches at her some more.

Slowly, slowly, Kara leverages herself into a sitting position, with the intent of slipping out of one of the windows, and flying back to her apartment. Slowly, slowly, she turns herself around, swinging her legs off the table.

So far, so good.

...Except for the nausea that wells up in the back of her throat.

Not a big deal, she decides, as that sort of thing usually passes.

...But not this time, apparently.

Which sends her scrambling to the kitchen, ignoring as her side screams at her to stop. Mercifully, she reaches the garbage can in time, emptying the meager contents of her stomach into the bin.

Ugh. Gross.

She braces her hands on the sink, leaning over it, waiting for the feeling to pass.

And, of course, it's in the midst of this...delightful display...that Alex should suddenly reappear.

“How did you know where the trash was?”

Kara looks up, startled. She hadn't heard the front door. Alex is glaring at her, apparently back from an early morning jog, if the windbreaker and Nikes are anything to go by.

“...X-Ray vision,” Kara lies.

“So you've recovered your powers?” Alex counters, looking skeptical.

She briefly considers sticking to her story, but worries that Alex might call her bluff. Ask her to...crush a brick with her bare hands, or something.

She ducks her head sheepishly. “...It was a lucky guess, actually.” It's still a lie, but it's one that Alex appears ready to accept.

“I guess I'm grateful you found it,” she mutters. “...But get out of my kitchen.”

“...Right. Sorry,” Kara hobbles back to the table, dropping into one of the chairs—it seems like a closer, easier alternative to the table itself. “Um.” Kara doesn't know what to say; should she apologize again for trespassing in the kitchen? Ask how the jog went? “I'm...guessing...you got all the Kryptonite out?”

Alex nods, but says nothing else, refusing to elaborate.

Kara offers a flustered follow up, unprepared for the nonverbal response. “I...um,” she pauses. “...thank you.” It's the first thing that comes to mind, and it sparks a reaction in Alex. She raises her eyebrows. In...surprise? “Really. I didn't...” she breathes out sharply through her nose, “...I didn't have anywhere else to go.”

Alex narrows her eyes once more and crosses her arms, physically closing herself off from the gratitude. Kara bites back a disappointed sigh.

But after a moment, Alex shifts somewhat uncomfortably, looking at the floor. Her mouth pulls to one side, in a manner Kara immediately recognizes as 'begrudging acceptance.'

“...Well I sincerely doubt that, but. You're welcome.”

It should be sad, that that's the nicest thing her sister has said to her alter ego in weeks, but Kara's too busy beaming at this development.

There's a lengthy, awkward pause that follows. And Kara doesn't immediately catch it, as she feels fairly comfortable, seated there, in Alex's apartment, smiling like a goofball.

Alex, though, is tense, looking at her somewhat expectantly. And it's only then that Kara realizes that while it's not a problem for Kara Danvers to hang out here, Supergirl has very much overstayed her welcome.

“Oh, I—” Kara clears her throat. “I guess I should go.” She stands to leave, when a fresh wave of nausea hits.

And she must look flushed, as she desperately glances as Alex, because she's already rolling her eyes, waving her towards the kitchen.

“Go, go,” she insists, and Kara rushes back to the garbage can. “Didn't realize Supergirl was such a lightweight,” she grumbles, just loud enough for Kara to hear between gags.

It's not as bad, this time around, because there's not much left to heave up. Once she's finished, she unsteadily makes her way back to the chair, and is surprised to see that Alex has moved it closer to the window, and that her sister is in the process of opening the blinds.

“Sit,” she says simply. When Kara stares at her blankly, she huffs. “You need sunlight to recover, right? So.” She gestures towards the now-open window. “Sunlight.”

“...Thanks,” Kara says, and does as she's told. “I'll...I won't stay long, I promise. Just a few minutes to ease the nausea—”

“No, don't—Just. Sit there.” Alex holds up a hand, making a kind of 'stay put' gesture. “I don't want any more messes to clean up, you already ruined one of my tablecloths.”

“Sorry.”

“And stop apologizing, God.”

“Sor—” Alex shoots her a mercurial glare, “—okay.”

Alex sighs, and runs a hand through her short hair, before moving towards her bedroom. Kara allows her attention to drift a little, not wanting to make this any weirder for Alex, even though this totally wouldn't be weird under normal, pre-memory-wipe circumstances.

Kara silently curses Haley, eyes drifting shut as she relaxes under the soft, warm light of the early morning sunrise.

She can distantly hear Alex opening and closing drawers, cabinets. Probably getting ready for the rest of the day.

She drifts off a bit, after that, only to be shaken out of sleep by her boot vibrating.

“Wzzzt?” She pitches forward. “Wzz...oh.” It's her phone.

She starts to reach for it, wondering who would be calling her at this hour. She turns to look at the clock on Alex's mantle, startled to see Alex standing in the living room area. She's turned away, facing the TV, one hand on her hip, the other holding her phone.

Huh, that's funny, that she's on the phone too—

Kara freezes, eyeing the buzzing phone in her boot.

Alex is still turned away; she carefully extracts the device and checks the glowing screen.

ALEX CALLING.

Kara's just about to shove the phone back into her boot when Alex turns.

Kara hurriedly mimes pressing the 'answer' button, nearly dropping the phone in the process.

“Uh...hello? I mean. Ah. Hello.” She makes sure to hit the 'send to voicemail' option as discreetly as possible. “...I, uh. Right. Yes. I'll be there...shortly. To do that...thing, we agreed to...do.”

She pretends to end the call, watching as Alex does the same.

“That was, uh, a...colleague,” Kara feels like she has to really sell the ruse. “Another...superhero. We have, ah...a thing? To do, so. I...I should really go.”

Alex is clearly both unimpressed and unconvinced by the rambling, but doesn’t care enough to question her further. She just nods.

“Right,” she says, all business. “Just. If your powers don't come back right away, you'll need to change the bandage. And clean it—obviously, we were short on supplies, so it's not my best work...”

“I will. Promise,” Kara says with a smile and a nod. “Thanks again, Director Danvers.”

She moves past Alex, headed for the front door. As she does so, her sister sighs.

“I think...in light of the whole...late night, emergency surgery thing...” she says, “you can call me Alex.”

Kara has one hand on the doorknob, but she pauses, and looks back over her shoulder.

“...Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Alex says, but hurriedly adds, “In the field, though, it’s still ‘Director Danvers.’”

Kara looks at the living room rug. “So...does this mean we're friends now?”

Alex rolls her eyes again.

“Don't push it,” she says. “We're friendly. Not friends.”

Kara narrows her eyes dramatically.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Because...I mean. I'm pretty sure I remember some mutual bonding over our hatred of Haley.”

“There was no bonding, you were drunk.”

“We could make a dartboard with her photo!”

“You're feeling better, obviously. You can leave, now.”

“Seriously. I'll pay for the darts.”

And, Kara knows Alex is fighting it, but she can see her smile, even as she puts her hands on her hips and attempts to be mean.

“Who knew Supergirl was such a giant dork, geez,” she exclaims, nudging Kara aside and grabbing the door. “You're worse than my sister.”

At which point, Kara is politely, if also somewhat physically, kicked out of Alex's apartment, but she can hear her sister still snickering behind the door.

Kara smiles as she makes her way to the stairwell at the end of the hall.

“Oh yeah. Definitely friends.”

NOTES:

- I think it’s clear I know nothing about emergency medicine OR alcohol. In spite of being related to individuals who are very familiar with both. - Title from Andrew Gold’s “Thank You for Being a Friend” 

[pockpop]

Hii honey uwu! Can i ask for a reaction to skz? When in winter his girlfriend bathes with cold water because she likes it I hope you understand, since my English is not good Thank u uwu

stray kids reaction to their gf taking cold baths during the winter b/c she likes it

a/n; your english is fine love! i hope you like it hehe ♥(ˆ⌣ˆԅ)

••

woojin;

he would be sitting on the edge of the tub, conversing with you quietly about your day as you took, what you told him anyway, a soothing bath. absentmindedly he put his hand in the water but flinched so hard that he flicked water in your face and amidst his apologizing, he was shook, “why in the hell are you taking a cold bath? it’s freezing!”

complains about the bath he’s not even in and is so cute about it and honestly over dramatic for no reason cause he doesn’t even mind you taking them during the winter as long as you’re bundled up well afterward so you don’t get sick.

chan;

surprised? yes. would he judge you for it? depending on his mood. if you liked it, how could possible judge what you liked? if you suggested it to him and offered to take one with him, he might try it just to amuse you if anything

“cold showers aren’t what I consider soothing but I guess you do you boo,”

minho;

hell judging at first, ”who hurt you?” 

cause he just doesn’t understand why. he’d be curious about it of course, especially for those days when he’s just too tired to function. but cue a complaining minho when you make any comment about how cold it is outside, he’s not having it at all and will always tie it back to your cold showers

changbin;

“what do you mean you take cold showers in the winter?” changbin said to you, naked and standing outside the shower with his fists raised, literally won’t get in the shower with you until you turn on the heat and he wasn’t playing. he wouldn’t really mind you taking them but taking them with him? think again 

hyunjin;

so confused at first tbh

“so you’re telling me it’s below zero outside and your ass is taking a cold shower. y/n, is there something we need to talk about?”

but when you explain you like it and all the benefits you’ve been receiving from them, he’d be more willing to try it just to see how it is, even if he’s cursing the whole time

han;

“you like cold showers in the winter?” literally repeats you in hella confusion but he ain’t bothered by it, just expect  judging eyes when you come out the shower shivering but gives in to cuddling you anyway because he’s a sucker for you real talk

felix;

“so you saying when it’s cold outside, you subject yourself to the cold water of the shower instead of warm water which you pay a bill for every month for. I am confusion.”

he’d listen well when you explained that you just liked them, they helped you a lot and that you felt better after them so he was cool with it really. anything that made you feel good was good with him

seungmin;

so concerned about you getting sick and always has the heater blasting even if he gets hot, just so you’re warm when you get out of the shower. he’s not very fond of you doing it even when you tell him its good for you, dandy boy here just ain’t having it okay

“okay if you freeze to death, i just want you to know its been real”

jeongin;

seriously just adds it to the stuff he loves about you. he ain’t judging but will be one of the ones complaining about how cold you are when you hug him afterward,

“the audacity! it’s already cold outside, my girlfriend has to be cold too?!”