#imagine the boss fight if he actually held animosity for us

[day-night-darlix]

MASKED FOOL AVENTURINE TIME BITCHES

carus

a masked fool notorious for gambling with lives.

“all i do is lay down a bet. it’s out of my control if my opponent decides to lay down their life, isn’t it?”

a well known musical artist and actor, his associations are not known to the public. he seems to harbor animosity towards the ipc.

[calunasteria]

please, xanny. | sanzu haruchiyo

"𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙢𝙚𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙙 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙙𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙗𝙪𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙩𝙨 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙙 𝙢𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚𝙣 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡𝙨 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚."

- wherein sanzu haruchiyo falls in love. that's all. (i'm bad at summarising my stories, i'm sorry ><)

current word count: 3.1k

tw (throughout the series): mentions of drug use and abuse, manipulation (gaslighting) and toxic relationships, mentions of blood, death, and murder, rape (attempt), use of deadly weapons, slight nsfw (??) - kindly tell me if i missed one. thank you.

date started: 07/29/21 (wattpad) | 07/31/21 (tumblr)

date ended: -

01 ! please,xanny.

-

what was it? was it the alcohol? was it the food they ate earlier? maybe it was spoiled, or worse, maybe it has drugs? probably no.

 maybe she's just overthinking things.

maybe she's just imagining all of this.

to say that she's inloveㅡ no, cross that out, to say that he's inlove is dangerous.

but how is it that the sanzu haruchiyo, bonten's number 2, is making her feel numerous things?

he reeked of instability, insanity.

yet his touch was as soft as the cotton, gentle like the wind, it was comforting.

say....

have you ever known what it felt like to drive on highways, with gnawing trepidation?

to taste betrayal and fondness while running on an endless tunnel of vague roads?

to be loved by none other than sanzu haruchiyo?

-

"welcome everyone, to our company's afterparty, please enjoy yourselves for tonight!" honey dripping voice echoed throughout the wide spaced room that is decorated with some dimmed and flashing lights, shimmering crystals plastered on the wall, extravagant leather couches, and large, black speakers booming with music. her soft, delicate hands then set the microphone down, as her wavy jet black hair bounced and swayed as she walked down the stairs with elegance.

"nakashima-san, the director wants to talk to you, he said to head towards the VIP area, over there." a small voice beside the stairs managed to squeak out, catching the girl's attention and turning her head to the direction he pointed at.

"did he told you the reason why he wanted to talk to me?" she asked, voice filled with a hint of irritation and tiredness - the complete opposite of how she sounded earlier on the stage. the boy shook his head, then uttered 'excuse me' before dashing away from his superior.

the girl then just sighed and walked towards the bar counter, which is the complete opposite of the direction she was told to go.

"one grey goose martini and a plain cranberry juice, please. thank you." she ordered as she sat down.

"wow, you're actually gonna drink tonight, kasumi? are your shits finally getting to you, girl?" the lady beside her stated with amusement as she popped out of nowhere, a glass of whiskey found in her hand, still laughing and smiling drunkenly.

"yes, kaoru. where the fuck were you? you were supposed to be the one to speak up front earlier to welcome the guests, not me, because i was the one who arranged this. and now boss said he wanted to talk to me about something." kasumi vented to her friend while her friend's grin just got wider, further infuriating her.

"whY THE HELL ARE YOU SMILING KAORU I-"

"calm the fuck down, kasumi, don't let boss get into your nerves, okay? its just me, so inhale, exhale. nice! see, just go drink your shits and talk to boss later. maybe hand in your resignation slip, you know?" kaoru laughed while wiggling her eyebrows and hugging kasumi.

the two talked to each other for a while before kasumi bid her goodbye and stood up to head to the direction she was supposed to go to earlier.

her heels clacked on the expensive marbled flooring while her black silk dress hugged her curvaceous body, gently flowing while walking.

upon reaching her destination, there she saw her boss with at least 4 women whispering and flirting with him, one on his lap and 3 beside him, along side with his other friends and acquaintances. they both shared a glance momentarily as kasumi forcefully smiled to her boss.

"ah yes, everyone, excuse me for i have something to finish up with my personal assistant." her boss announced to all the people around him, making kasumi uncomfortable and embarrassed, by all the stares she accumulated and daggers she got from the women who was flirting earlier with her boss.

"let's go, darling." sentence uttered by her boss before they left the place with him grabbing her wrist, and oh heavenly archons how irritated kasumi was because of her boss' actions and words.

she was practically being dragged away the from the event area, their shoes resonating throughout the empty hallways that are connected to the parking lot when she asked him, "excuse me sir, but where are we going? i thought you said you wanted to talk to me?"

"hmmm, yes. that's right, don't worry, kasumi-chan, we're just going to talk while where on a late night drive, and it'll definitely enlighten you. now get in the car." he ordered with flirty yet stern voice but kasumi did not budge at all - she just stared in disbelief to her boss, anger bubbling up within her.

"kasumi, we both know that i don't like repeating myself, now do what i said, please."

"i'm sorry but i don't think i'll go with you since we can talk here. so just say what you need to say so i can get on with my life, thank you." she declared cheekily.

"i said get in the car, why are yo-" he blurted out with annoyance but was cut off when kasumi said, "seems to me like you don't have anything to say, well i have one, i'm resigning, kitamura-san, i'll hand the file tomorrow, so if you have any requests, tell them to your next assistant." then proceeds to walk away that made her boss snap.

rushing towards her with malice and anger, with his system being controlled by the alcohol he consumed earlier, he grabbed kasumi's hair making her stumble and lose her balance, while the towering man held her waist with his left arm and his right arm held her face forcefully, and whispered to her from behind, "that's what i hate about you, you're so fucking stubborn, you and your smart ass mouth, i hate it so fucking much makes me want to shove my dick down your throat to make you obey me, and cry you bitch."

kasumi had chills run down her spine when she heard her boss mutter those words to her, and when she felt him grinding on her from behind ㅡ the last string of patience she had snapped in half, all she can see was red.

she used all her strength to stomp on the man's foot making him clutch down because of pain inflicted by her stiletto, releasing his hands that grasped her smaller frame. her hands then moved swiftly with anger to slap the man before her, knees being lifted up to kick his crotch making him to finally crumple down on the floor, silently mumbling profanities under his breath containing hatred.

"the next time you pull that stunt with me, or with other girls, i'll make sure you won't have something called dick after that." she threatened, voice laced with venom as she tried to wipe the ruffles that ruined her expensive, dusk colored dress.

"don't think you'll get away with this, bitch." the man croaked out while standing up, eyes filled with animosity, but then falling on his knees once again when a sharp, solid whipping sound tore through his thighs, vermillion colored blood gushing out of the gaping hole that was shot, followed by his shrill, agonized wail.

"seems like you grew stronger these past few years, kasumi-chan." a familiar voice grinned, few meters away from her.

"haruchiyo." she whispered under her breath, astounded.

***

"kasumi? are you listening?" a soft feminine voice spoke out, breaking the deep trance the raven coloured hair girl was in - chasmic ebony eyes stared at the person next to her, embarrassment creeping up in her system, realizing that she hasn't paid any attention to the words and sentences that her friend was telling her.

"i'm sorry, kaoru. what were you saying again?" she apologized, tuning her attention towards her half eaten sandwich that she was munching earlier.

"i was asking you if you know that boy over there, 5 o'clock," kasumi whipped her head towards the direction her friend gave her, eyes landing on a somewhat familiar person - he had a medium length hair dyed with bleach blonde, eyes glimmering like precious blue zircon gem, long and beautiful eyelashes that highlighted his daring eyes and a noticeable black mask covering half of his face. he looked so serene among the vast crowd  filled with bustling people.

"sanzu?" she asked turning her head to her friend who's eyes sparked with curiosity and underlying suspicions.

"how'd you know him?" the petite girl squinted her eyes to her friend, making kasumi roll her ebony orbs. "i just happen to know his name. after all, he's in a gang, right? toman, i think."

"i wasn't aware that you know about gangs, kasumi-chan. perhaps you like their leader, huh." her friend teased earning another eye roll from her brunette friend. "i'm just kidding. its just that i haven't saw him without his mask. some people say he has nasty scar on both side of his mouth, and i don't know if its legit, but given the fact that he wears that mask, its probably true." kaoru shrugged and stood up to head to their class.

sanzu haruchiyo. he was definitely mysterious, kasumi mused, as she walked. he was quiet and he had a calm demeanor when he talks. they weren't close but they shared a small talk in the past, and usually its just about school, like each of their classes borrowing and returning some school supplies and other little things. she never even heard him speak more than 7 words. well, it wasn't a big deal, since she thinks that he's just an another person on this world who has probably their own shits to deal with. he was insignificant to her as she was to him. or so she thought.

their room was filled with silent mumblings, a heavenly boring stupor that kasumi tried to fight, heavily lidded eyes blinking slowly in the hopes of trying to understand their lesson - she was tired and sleepy and it was not long until their class ended, her mind being awakened once again like a newborn baby, because she's going home.

their house reeked of alcohol and despair, of cigarettes and sorrow - it was a hopeless sight. everything was a mess. kasumi then heard a faint coughing on their kitchen and there she saw her ill mother who's trying to wash the dishes with her frail arms, her thin and small frame found her daughter who rushed to her side to help her do the chores but then just told her to sit down and rest.

"mama, you're not supposed to be doing that. you're the one here who needs to rest, i can handle that. besides, where's papa?"

"he's out, i think. but don't worry, kasumi i'm almost finished. we can then eat dinner afterwards so you can talk to me about what happened today with you? you don't have work tonight, right sweetheart?" her mother's voice was definitely her haven, it was warm and sweet. "yes, sure." the girl replied, already at ease but then her phone chimed loudly, signaling that someone texted her - it was her co-worker that texted her he can't attend his shift, and was asking kasumi to be the one to replace him for the mean time.

what are the fucking odds.

her mother noticed the younger's change of emotion and asked, "who was it, sweetheart?" and it pained kasumi to leave her mother alone again but she needs to work. she needs the money. "i need to go, i actually have work since im covering for my co-worker's shift. i'll be right back, so make sure you eat your dinner. i love you." she kissed her mother on her forehead before she left.

***

"thank you, come again!" the girl chimed in, weariness evident in her voice. it was 2:30am and god knows how tired she was. this was supposed to be her day off but the universe just straight up said no.

"nakashima-san, i'm so sorry, you can now go, i'll take it from here on. please take this on your way home as a compensation for what you did to me. thank you! take care on your way home." her co-worker apologized, shyly smiling and blush evident on his cheeks as he handed her a plastic bag filled with some foods and snacks.

kasumi uttered her thanks, with a small smile as she went to change her clothes to go home already as all she wants to do right now was sleep and rest.

upon reaching the store's parking area for bicycles, she noticed that one its tires was flat. she sighed loudly, venting out her exasperation and frustration.

"well, guess i'll walk then. fuckkkkkk. this isn't my day huh." she groaned, muttering some profanities before going on her way home.

it was a chilly night, the breeze was crisp and wintry, with her trembling breath rising up forming a ghostly smoke, vanishing into thin air as she exhales. her whole body was quivering because her cardigan was too thin for this type of weather. kasumi hugged herself in hopes of warming herself up. the skies were tainted with midnight blue perfectly combined with the pitch black heavens decorated with gleaming constellations and stars, along with the dimly hanged moon.

her way home usually takes around 30-40 minutes with her bike, and around an hour and a half if one decides to walk. it was a peaceful and cold night not until she passed this one dark alleyway where there were 2 men laughing their asses off, and another one drinking away his life. kasumi paid no attention to the men and just picked up her walking pace to quickly get out of the picture when her left arm was sharply snatched by one of the men in the dark alleyway.

"hey pretty, wanna have fun with us?" the man grinned like a maniac, his yellow teeth visible and his breath smelled like rum and hostility combined together. the other men laughed like crazy while the last one ogled at kasumi's body.

"no, let me go you ugly bastards." kasumi snapped, snatching her hand away from the man, before turning away to run. she wasn't dumb to not pick up what in fuck was happening back there, so she tried to regain her composure by trying to find her phone to dial the number of her friend who's probably still awake by now to call for help when her hair was maliciously dragged backwards making her lose her balance only to fall on the ground and be dragged away. the plastic bag she was carrying along with her phone was now nowhere to be found.

only her hoarse cry for help was audible, she was too slow, too tired, too exhausted for all of the things happening to her - but her body was flailing so hard, trying to release herself from the man's tight grasp on her hair and it felt like its going to be ripped off her head anytime soon when they stopped on the same alleyway the men were previously drinking. "bitch thought she can get away with us, well let me tell you something sweetheart, we don't take no as an answer. plus you were wearing that thin-ass blouse,  you're trying to seduce us after all so let's have fun shall we?" the bald headed man smirked while he held kasumi down on the ground.

she was terrified, frustrated, and she's doing her best to try and fight them all away. she was able to slap and kick the two of them, desperation was highly evident as she frantically scramble to her feet but that was as far as she can go for she was violently punched and slapped before she fell down with her vision getting hazy, tears streaming down her face non-stop as she lost all her energy to fight. everything was becoming blurry and she was now just hoping for everything to just end.

she was so lost in her train of thought that she didn't even realize that the men who were trying to break and ruin her were now out cold, laying on the freezing ground while a man towered over them.

"stand up." was all kasumi heard when she snap back to reality and saw a figure standing before her, wearing an all black outfit - black jacket, black jeans, and a black mask. his straight bleach colored hair was neatly tied up in a ponytail too.

"stand up." sanzu repeated as kasumi tried to stand up, still shaken by what happened to her and the picture of the scene before her. kasumi then felt something drape over her shoulder when sanzu came near her, his mint and delicate masculine scent filling her senses.

"follow me." was all the boy said before he exited the alleyway leaving her all alone with his jacket that he gave her. following his footsteps, while tightly clutching his jacket, she saw a shiny, and expensive looking car few meters out the alleyway with sanzu standing near it, and as she got closer to him, she heard him say, "get in."

not wanting and not having enough energy to fight nor say anything, kasumi just silently obliged to what he said. after getting inside the vehicle, sanzu followed afterwards, turning on the car and driving to god knows where - kasumi was drained, and she couldn't care less what would happen anymore although she wanted to say and atleast utter her gratitude towards the boy beside her, but her voice just seems to be gone. the car ride with him was silent, but it wasn't awkward. it wasn't uncomfortable. it wasn't scary either, rather, it was surprisingly comforting.

moments later, kasumi saw a familiar house outside her window when sanzu pulled up and opened the door for her, handing her some of the things she brought earlier - her bag and her phone.

he didn't talk, he didn't say anything before heading out and going inside his car once again, and driving away.

kasumi was dumbfounded.

she have so many questions whirling over her head like, how did he know my place? why did he do that?

she entered their house with her head aching - cross that out, with her whole body aching, everything that happened to her this day had taken  a toll on her. she was definitely traumatized and shaken by what happened. with her literally dragging her body towards her room desperate to rest and lay down on the soft and smooth mattress.

and even though she was almost raped, and potentially murdered, the one thing that stuck in her head was sanzu. sanzu haruchiyo.

and she swore to find him tomorrow before she fell into a deep slumber.

[horde-princess]

omg 17 would be perfect

Sorry this took so long! I’ve been soo busy and kinda distracted with the new season ✨ There are still a few prompts in my inbox, plus Home Is A Lonely Place, not to mention all the meta i still wanna write sldjfskj there’s a lot going on

but anyway i yelled when i read what 17 was tysm for sending it!!! 💖 this is filled with angst and does get a little spicy so. take care of yourselves out there

17. Needing to kiss to hide from bad guys

Adora twisted against her handcuffs uselessly, wrists chafed and bloody, before finally giving up and dropping her hands into her lap. Her head was buzzing with fatigue and hunger, her muscles ached from spending the night in a Horde prison cell that was about as comfortable as a bed of nails. Still, it offered a semblance of safety, and for that she was grateful–since every second spent trapped here was time that she might have spent being, well, dead.

The Rebellion defense had been a total disaster. No, that was a lie–Adora was the only one to blame. She let Catra manipulate her again, choosing to save her friend’s life even knowing it would result in defeat. Why Hordak took her captive instead of killing her on the spot was a terrifying mystery that Adora preferred not to unravel right now. She couldn’t let fear paralyze her. She had to think of a way to get out of here. She had to get back to Glimmer and Bow, she had to help her friends–

A sudden movement in the darkness outside her cell startled her. She sat up straight against the wall, blowing loose hair out of her face. Whatever they did to her, she wouldn’t let them see her spirit broken.

But the shadowy figure was… familiar. Adora’s heart rate picked up and she watched as the door slid open to reveal the only person who actually did have the power to break her. 

They stared at each other for a moment, Catra’s expression unreadable. Adora was expecting insults from her, or mockery, but… none came. Truthfully, she looked like she hadn’t slept in days. Catra frowned, marched over, and yanked Adora up to her feet by the handcuffs, causing her to hiss in pain.  

“Let’s go.”

When Adora resisted, Catra gripped her arm painfully and dragged her out of the cell anyway. Her animosity never ceased to feel like some kind of fucked up hallucination.

“Catra, don’t do this!”

“Would you shut up?” she snapped. “If you get us caught, we’re both dead.”

She released her and pulled out a tablet, glancing nervously around the empty atrium.

“Wait… what do you mean ‘if we get caught?’”

Catra grit her teeth. She touched the screen and there was a quiet click as a door near them unlocked.

“I’m trying to get you out of here, dumbass.”

Adora felt like the world just slipped off its axis. She must have been more exhausted than she’d realized because there was no way she’d heard that right. But hope clawed at her insides anyway, demanding and vengeful, struggling to escape the little coffin she had shoved it into long ago and buried six feet underground.

“You’re… helping me escape?”

Catra shot her a glare then started walking again, pulling Adora along with her. Hostility emanated off her in waves. They passed through the doorway and started down a deserted corridor, broken lights flickering eerily. 

“But why?”

She rounded on Adora, stoic anger turning fierce. “Do you know what Hordak wants to do to you?!” she whispered. “He’s not just going to kill you, Adora! He wants to torture you, corrupt your powers–prod you like a lab rat until there’s nothing left.”

Adora had guessed as much, but that wasn’t really what she meant.

“I don’t get it, isn’t that what you wanted all along? I mean… you’ve been trying to get rid me ever since I…”

Left. Abandoned you. Ruined everything. She didn’t know how to say it aloud. 

Catra was quiet for a moment, then she sneered.

“No one gets to take you down but me. Got it? Especially not fucking… Hordak. And if I can ruin one of his plans while I’m at it, all the better.”

There it was again, fluttering madly in the deepest recesses of Adora’s chest. Hope.

“But why not just take me out now?” she pressed, wishing Catra would just tell her the truth, for once. “I don’t have my sword, I’m powerless.”

“Yeah, well, exactly!” Catra sputtered. “You’re all chained up and pathetic right now. It wouldn’t be a good fight.”

“…Catra–”

“We just have to get to the–Shit. Someone’s coming.”

Searching frantically for an escape, Catra pulled her into a niche in the hallway. 

The space was tight and dark, and Adora could feel Catra’s shallow breaths, and every accidental touch of their bodies sent a wave of anxiety screeching down her spine like nails on a chalkboard. All at once she realized exactly what Catra was risking by trying to save her. If she got caught… it would be the end of her.

The guards’ voices drifted over to them, getting closer. There must have been three of them, maybe more.

“…weird signal coming from the prison block.”

“No, it’s three in the damn morning. It must be a glitch.”

Catra took a steadying breath. “There’s no way they won’t see us here. How many can you take?”

“Oh, sure. I’ll just take down some armed gunmen with my hands cuffed.”

Catra groaned quietly, clenching her fists, and Adora could see the wheels in her head turning. Then her body went slack and her eyes filled with what could only be described as… horror.

Unmitigated horror. 

Adora blinked at her.

“Catra?–”

“We have to kiss,” she breathed.

Adora’s brain slowly faltered to a stop like an overworked motor.

“…Um. What.”

“Think about it! Why else would two teenagers be hiding in a dark corner in the middle of the night? If we can play it right, maybe they’ll leave us alone.”

The voices were getting louder with each passing second and Adora was experiencing a strong wave of nausea. 

“You can’t be serious,” she rasped.

“Well I don’t hear you coming up with any bright ideas!”

The shuffle of boots echoing down the hall suddenly stopped.

“Hey, did you hear something?” A woman’s voice said, her flashlight beam sweeping near them.

Catra held her breath and Adora did the same, feeling like the blood in her veins had been replaced with electric current.

“Check the door over there.”

Catra was so close, and so warm, and so Catra; and if she closed her eyes she could imagine they were just kids again, sneaking around the Fright Zone, getting into trouble together. She could forget everything that had happened the past few months, all the pain they had caused each other. She could forget this was a life or death situation. She could forget that Catra hated her fucking guts.

…Though, apparently, not quite as much as she once did.

“Nothing here, boss,” one of the guards said.

“Keep moving, I know I heard something.”

It was dark, but not dark enough to hide them once the flashlight illuminated the space. As soon as the guards walked past them they’d be spotted. They’d be asked to identify themselves, if they didn’t already know their faces… fuck.

“…It has to look convincing,” Adora choked out.

Catra met her eyes, expression carefully neutral. 

“Take off your badge.”

Catra did as instructed. Adora moved behind her so her back was to the wall, hiding her tied hands from view. The guards were closing in fast. Catra’s face suddenly turned pale.

“You know what? This was a stupid idea.”

“Huh?”

“There’s no way they’ll just let us go… what if–I could take them myself, right? I  fight giant killing machines all the time–”

“Catra, they have guns–”

“Or I could tell them who I am, say I was just taking you to the–”

“Catra!”

The guards were feet away and the light was sweeping towards them and before she could think too much about it Adora surged forward and crushed her lips to Catra’s.

The earth seemed to drop out from under her.

God, it was so… wrong. It was fake and bitter and poisoned and fuck, it shouldn’t have happened like this, it shouldn’t have happened like this.

It took a second for Catra to respond, but then Adora felt her moving deliberately to make it look natural. She wrapped an arm around her waist, roughly pressing Adora between the wall and her body. The whole thing lasted for all of two seconds before she sensed a light shining on them.

“Oh–”

“What–”

“Shit–”

Adora’s head spun as Catra pulled her lips away and turned to address the guards, keeping her hands on Adora and her body pressed close. She was functioning at about a half a percent mental capacity and couldn’t begin to imagine how Catra was handling this so easily.

(Maybe it hurt her ego. So what?)

“The fuck?” Catra griped loudly. “Can we get some privacy?”

“Sorry, ladies, there’s been a security breach and–we didn’t mean to, uh–we’re supposed to check your badges–”

“We’re a little busy, here,” she interrupted, flipping them off as she turned back to Adora with a dangerous smirk. 

Her previous distress was all but gone now, masked over with an exaggerated confidence. She gave Adora a meaningful look, then leaned in and caught her lips in a sensual, open-mouthed kiss. And now that her brain had caught up with her body… Adora was on fire.

The guards, the prison, the Horde, the Rebellion–it all disappeared in a puff of smoke as Catra’s tongue twisted with hers, two opposite forces coalescing, and nothing in the world mattered but this, nothing existed apart from this. If Catra were to stop kissing her, she thought the fabric of her universe might rip apart. Somewhere in the back of her mind she registered the guards walking away, but Catra wasn’t stopping the kiss, and every touch, every swirl of her tongue was bringing Adora closer to some kind of breaking point. Catra slipped a thigh between hers and a soft moan escaped her, she couldn’t control her body’s response anymore, and it definitely wasn’t part of any act.

Catra must have realized that, too, because she immediately pulled back to look at her, wearing the most smug expression Adora had ever seen on someone. Heat rose in her cheeks as reality slowly pulsed back into focus. 

The guards were gone. The universe was, somehow, still intact.

“If you wanted to get me alone, all you had to do was ask, princess.”

Asshole. Adora wanted to smack the mocking grin off her face. Too bad her hands were tied.

“What–I don’t–Screw you! That was way past ‘convincing!’”

Catra cocked an expectant eyebrow and Adora relented with a sigh.

“Sorry. I… I know you’re just trying to help me.”

For some reason that made Catra’s smile fall. She leaned in again, lips close, her scent washing over Adora, smokey and intoxicating.

“Is that what I’m doing?”

They locked eyes for a long, tense moment. The taste of her lingered on Adora’s tongue and her heart was pounding so hard she was afraid Catra might hear it. There were no guards, no threats… it was just her and Catra this time. Catra, the person who had vowed to destroy Adora and everything she cared about. Catra, who was supposed to be her enemy. Catra… who was currently saving her life. 

“We should…” Adora licked her lips. “We should go.”

“Yeah,” Catra agreed.

But the second Catra’s eyes fell to her lips Adora was pushing forward and kissing her for the third time that night, giving into something furious and insane and probably inevitable. Catra sighed into her mouth as her hands raked down Adora’s body and she struggled against the handcuffs, not even feeling the pain of it, just desperate to touch her, and–fuck–this wasn’t fair–

Reading her mind, Catra raised Adora’s arms above her head and pinned them there with one hand, the other moving down to lift her leg around her hip. Adora swallowed back a whine as Catra pressed flush against her body–her kiss urgent now, consuming–and Adora arched into her, giving up any pretense of dignity or self-control. She was unraveling more with every new touch and she decided she didn’t care how fucked up this was anymore… she didn’t care if Catra was manipulating her, whether she hated her or not–what did it even matter? There was such a mess of emotion between them, it was impossible to make sense of, and if this was how it manifested in Catra, she really didn’t mind. 

Then, with a harsh movement–seemingly out of nowhere–Catra broke the kiss.

It was like having the wind knocked out of her. Adora slowly came to her senses and felt how Catra was struggling to control her breathing, fingers trembling against Adora’s jaw. The silence stretched between them. When she finally spoke, her voice was dark and… devastated.

“…What are you doing to me?”

Adora didn’t have an answer.

Catra’s grip on her loosened, she stepped away, and it left Adora feeling ice cold in the absence of her touch.

“Catra, I…”

What could she say? That she was sorry? She wasn’t. She was selfish, and stupid, and cowardly, but absolutely nothing in her was sorry. 

Not for this, anyway.

“This doesn’t change anything,” Catra stated rigidly.

Adora wasn’t sure which one of them she was trying to convince. Still, the weight of the words crushed her. She had nothing left, her cards were all on the table. If Catra were to ever use this against her… she almost laughed at the thought.

Catra turned away from her and walked out into the hallway, but Adora was afraid to move, afraid to shatter the illusion.

This doesn’t change anything. The words echoed in her mind over and over again.

“So that’s it?”

A beat of silence.

“Yeah.”

Catra looked back at her and jerked her head towards the exit, then walked away without waiting for Adora to follow. 

[stories-you-wont-hear]

– due process. pt 8

we are heading towards the end, ladies and gents! i’m thinking maybe two more parts to this and boy let me tell you, no one is ready for where this is heading :) please let me know what you think of this part, i love love love hearing your opinions of this story! xoxo mira

tag: @abcreid  @mattiemurdocksvoicemakesmesplosh @krazy-katt-lady @digicharr

“I see no reason for my client to be held in jail for the duration of this trial, Your Honor.” Tap tap tap. “The alleged murder and rap-” “Objection!” Tap tap tap. “Sorry. The alleged murderer, Benjamin Harris, is free to go on about his life while the victim, Amanda Taylor, has lost her life. I don’t think that’s quite fair, Your Honor.” Tap tap tap.

You didn’t have to look behind you to know that Matt had entered the courtroom, and from the sound of the tapping subsiding, you figure he had found a seat. Meanwhile, you focused your attention at the situation at hand, which was the prosecution trying to revoke Ben’s bail. “Innocent until proven guilty, unless I’m mistaken,” you countered. “Your Honor,” the prosecutor stood in the middle of the room, hands out as if she were pleading with the judge, “The last time Ben Harris was out on bail, the very same victim ended up losing her life.” “That case was dismissed,” you replied, narrowing your eyes at the opposition’s lawyer. “Without prejudice,” the ADA shot back, to which you took a second to address. “Are you charging him with that?” you said after a moment, having caught yourself in a sticky situation. She was right, those charges had been dismissed without prejudice, meaning the district attorney’s office could charge both Ben and Andrew again. “No,” the ADA said pointedly, making eye contact with you before returning to face the judge, “Those charges were dismissed, Your Honor, Ben Harris was not acquitted. But the fact of the matter is that this very court has the power to hold Amanda Taylor’s alleged murderer, who was also her alleged rapist and I don’t know about the defense here, but I don’t believe in coincidences.” “Your Ho-” you stood up to cut in, but the judge held his hand up.

“Enough,” he said, casting a grave look over both the prosecution and your own table, “While our country’s justice system relies on the assumption that one is innocent until proven, I am inclined to take the prosecution’s point into consideration.” Beside you, a confused Ben looked up at you and then back, to Matt you assumed. “What’s happening?” Ben whispered, his eyes wide. “Your Honor,” you started again, gesturing for Ben to stay seated. “I’m sorry Counselor,” the judge said, holding up his gavel, “I order Benjamin Harris into custody for the duration of this trial.”

“What?” Ben cried, his mother rushing up behind you, adding to the clamor in the courtroom. “Ms. Harris,” you could hear Matt attempting to assuage her as you tried to reassure Ben. “You’ll be okay,” you tried to say in your most convincing voice. “Why are they doing this?” he asked, the court officers coming up to take him. “You’ll be okay,” you mouthed as they led him away.

A few moments later, you left the courtroom only to run into Ben’s mother and Matt. “How can they take my son like this?” the woman asked you, her eyes watery. “I’m so sorry, Ms. Harris,” was the only thing you could say. “It’s just the DA’s office trying to cover their bases,” Matt added. She somehow seemed more reassured at Matt’s words, rather than the words of the actual lawyer defending her son but you stayed silent and let Matt do the talking.

You were sure he’d leave with her, but to your misfortune, Matt turned to talk to you after Ben’s mom left. “Look,” you started before he could say anything, “The ADA brought up a good point, I couldn’t say anything.” He nodded as you talked before speaking up himself, “Look, Y/N. I know you’re used to murky cases with blurred lines, but Ben is innocent. You have to defend him like he is.” You opened your mouth to say something but couldn’t find words. “I wanted you to take this case because it’s morally clean-” “Murder is morally clean? What kind of shoddy Catholic are you?” you interjected. He sighed, giving you a serious look in return, “Y/N. This is your new start.” You scoffed, making moves to brush past him until he held your arm. “Let go,” you said between clenched teeth. “Don’t tear yourself apart over this,” he said softly, low enough for only you to hear before letting go.

You meant to walk away, you really did, but this bit of you urged yourself to turn back to Matt, and so you did. “Who’s tearing themselves over this? Not me, Matt,” you said pointedly, ignoring the looks you got from the occasional passerby. “I’m helping you,” he replied, his posture a bit more relaxed. You chose not to reply, instead, you stared, hoping the glare you were giving him opened the lock that he seemed to keep on everything he somehow happened to know. “There was someone there,” he finally said, catching your attention. “Who?” you asked in a loud whisper, to which Matt shushed you for. You reluctantly apologized but leaned in to make sure no one else overheard. “I don’t know,” he said admittedly, “But that could be who killed her.” Part of you dreaded asking the question, but you had to, “How do you know it wasn’t Ben?” Matt stood, speechless for a moment, but in the end, he just shook his head, “It wasn’t.” “Matt,” you said softly, with the absence of the edge that your voice had carried towards him for the last couple of weeks, “How do you know it wasn’t Ben?”

“I don’t,” he replied finally, and maybe you should’ve felt happy at his admission for not knowing something. Finally, something that the ever omniscient Matthew Murdock didn’t know. But you didn’t. You felt bad, a twinge of guilt clouding your mind as you placed a hand on his arm. “I’ll fight this,” you reassured him, “I’m going to fight for him.” “Thank you,” Matt replied, with a smile and despite all that had happened, that devilish grin still made you swoon.

 Over the past couple of months, you had found yourself letting a number of people into your apartment. Foggy, Karen. Matt. But the last person you expected to see outside of your apartment was your old boss, Malcolm Randall. “Malcolm,” you said as you spotted him while coming up the stairs. He seemed oddly out of place in your apartment building, he certainly seemed to feel the same way. “Y/N,” he replied in acknowledgment. “Can I help you?” you said, your voice signaling your confusion at his presence. He held up the box in his hands, similar to the one that had appeared at your apartment after your departure from your firm. 

“Some of your things,” he said, holding the box out towards you. “I thought you already sent them,” you said, nevertheless taking the box. “Not all of it,” he replied, his speech curt. You wondered if the man held any animosity towards you, as the two of you had grown as close as you’d imagine you could while working on your last case together. Loyalty was valued at any top law firm, and your abrupt departure was not something that would reflect well on that. “Malcolm,” you started, cutting into the awkward silence between you as you leaned against the door of your apartment, “I’m… I’m sorry.” “Don’t be,” he said, reaching into the pocket in his coat to lay an envelope on top of the box you were holding. Caught by surprise, you didn’t say anything as he abruptly took off, leaving you alone.

“How much is it?” Matt asked over the phone. “Ten grand,” you replied gleefully, sipping at your glass of wine while staring at the check in your hand. You had opened the envelope Malcolm Randall had left you immediately after getting into your apartment, and at first, you were blown away by the glowing recommendation he had written you, so much that you hadn’t noticed the severance check that was in the envelope, too.

“That’s insane,” Matt’s voice commented through the speakerphone you had laid on your coffee table. “It is,” you agreed, “I guess I didn’t realize I had grown on him that much.” “Do you regret it?” Matt asked, and you found yourself able to answer the question without too much thought. “No,” you said sincerely, “I don’t. I like being… morally clean.” He chuckled at you quoting him from before and you imagined him at his desk, tie loosened and head leaning back as he talked to you. “Are we good?” he asked, cutting into your thoughts of him. “Yes,” you replied, only after a moment’s hesitation. Maybe it was the wine. “That’s good to know,” he hummed back, and you could hear the smile in his voice. “I really am sorry, Y/N,” he blurted and you shook your head as if he could see you. “I know, Matt,” you interrupted, “And I forgive you.” He said nothing but you knew he was smiling on the other side of the call. “Any plans for tonight?” he asked, and you held up your wine glass, examining the red liquid in the cup. “Just me, this court case, and some Chinese takeout,” you hummed into the phone, and as if on cue, your doorbell rang. “And that is my date for the night,” you said, getting up to grab your pocketbook. “Alright,” Matt said, “Call me if you need me.” “I’m an independent woman, Murdock,” you teased, moving towards your door. “Yeah, but let me know if you need a vigilante,” he laughed. You rolled your eyes, sure he could probably hear it through the phone, “Good night, Matt.”

Slipping the phone into your back pocket, you opened the door, pocketbook in hand to pay the delivery person. “How mu-” you started, only to be caught floored by the sight of the familiar man standing at your door. “Hey sweetheart,” he said, flashing a signature white smile. You swallowed audibly, stunned at the sight of the man who had been such an important part of your life, now suddenly having appeared at your doorstep. He chuckled, leaning down to kiss your cheek. You simply stood there, feeling the brush of his facial hair as he pressed his lips to your cheek before pulling back. Hand moving up to touch where his lips had just made contact with your skin, you looked at him with disbelief, somehow convinced that he would disappear just as suddenly as he had appeared. When he gave you a look, eyebrow raised in confusion, you were certain he wasn’t a figment of your imagination, that’s when you finally stepped back, letting him into your apartment.

He stepped in, navigating through the place expertly, almost as if he lived there. Which he had, a long time ago. “The necklace looks good on you,” he commented, leisurely sitting back into your armchair, “I knew it would.” You sat down across from him on your couch, your hands folded in your lap as you struggled to think of something to say. “Cat got your tongue, sweetheart?” he said, the grin spread across his face signaling his amusement. “What are you doing here?” you asked finally, your voice level as not to give away what you were really feeling. He pouted in mock disappointment, “What? I’ve been gone for so long and that’s the first thing you say to me? Where’s the warm welcome, sweetheart?” You nodded, moving your shoulders back a few times to relax, before meeting his eyes and granting him a small smile.

“Hey, Billy.”

woooooahh BILLY RUSSO IS THAT YOU?? ok i feel like i had alluded to Y/N’s “B” being Billy and if you didn’t catch it... well NOW YA KNOW. i have a very clear idea of where this story is going and again, let me say that y’all are not ready and tbh, neither am i!

[dragonasheswrites-blog]

The Heaven We Didn’t Choose, Chapter 14: In Which Much is Explained

...And Undyne plays therapist.

First: Chapter 1: In Which a Child Makes a Friend

Previous: Chapter 13: In Which Nothing Good Lasts Forever

Next: Chapter 15: In Which Sans is Hired

Click here for the story overview.

Weeks passed in a similar manner.  Though Sans didn’t breathe a word about Attie, or Frisk, or his missing phone data, he thought about them almost constantly.  It seemed like Attie and Frisk took up almost as much of his life in their absence as they had when they were actually part of it.

He made sure not to walk past Frisk’s house on his way to and from the park where he sold hot dogs.  It was pretty far out of his way, actually, especially on sore feet.  He couldn’t even remember why he’d started using that route in the first place.  It was much easier to take the straight path through the heavily monster-populated part of town, even if he could feel eyes on him.

The feeling was particularly strong one evening as he was walking home from his sentry shift.  He was almost sure someone was following him, but that could’ve been a trick of his half-mad mind.  Pulling double shifts on top of selling hot dogs was utterly exhausting, even though - or, perhaps, because - it had been such a boring job lately.  Sure, sentries were technically supposed to keep humans out of Mount Ebott and dangerous monsters in, but few people were stupid or reckless enough to try crossing either way.  Every once in a while some dumb human teenagers would dare each other to go up the mountain, but they were easily turned back.  Sans hadn’t had that pleasure in...well, since long before he met Attie.

He glanced over his shoulder.  His shadow didn’t duck behind the building fast enough, and he caught a glimpse.  A single figure, humanoid, face covered by the hood of a jacket.  Dark clothing.  Short, around his height.  Slender.  The faint outline of a rounded chest.

...What was a lone woman doing out at night in this part of town?  And tailing him, no less?

She was following him relatively closely, which was...not as annoying as Sans thought it would be.  At least if someone got stupid and jumped her he’d be close enough to hear the ruckus and intervene if things got out of hand.  He resolutely ignored the idea that he wouldn’t have cared before Attie came into his life.

The woman stalked him past Grillby’s, and he resisted the urge to stop in for a drink.  Grillbz would report to Boss if there was enough money in it for him, and Boss was still unusually cranky.  The last thing Sans wanted was a repeat of his punishment from the day Attie disappeared; that had been nearly a month ago, and he still felt a little sore when he stood for long periods of time.

Sighing to himself, Sans cut back towards his apartment building.  Hopefully she’d just confront him and get it over with.

He held the door to the building open with one foot and shifted, watching the woman tense from the corner of his eye socket.  “You comin’ in or what?”

She sidled along the building, a little unsteadily, and put a hand on the door.  As she passed him, the yellow glow of the bare bulb in the hallway highlighted the curves of a familiar jaw and cheekbone.

“F-Frisk?”

Frisk held a finger to her lips and stepped into the hallway, letting him close the door behind her.  She made a motion with her hand that took Sans a moment to decipher.

“O-oh, yeah.  Uh.  Sure.  C’mon in.”

He lead the way up to the apartment he and Boss shared, took a deep breath, and opened the door.

“SANS!  You sack of SHIT, you’re LATE!”

Sans dodged Boss’s attack on instinct, then felt his very soul stutter.  Frisk had been behind him.  He turned to look, but thankfully she stood…

...well, mostly unharmed.  She had a scratch on her left arm from wrist to elbow, skin and a thin line of blood showing through the tear in her jacket.  Considering the trajectory of Boss’s attack and the fact that she’d been caught by surprise in the narrow hallway, it was impressive.

“Kiddo, let’s-”

“Oh, Ambassador Dreamurr!  I apologize.  My underling-”  Boss kicked Sans out of the doorway- “Neglected to tell me that we would be having such a prestigious visitor in our humble home.  Are you harmed?”

Sans heard Frisk confirm that she was mostly alright.  The attack had been aimed him, after all; it hadn’t been very damaging.  She accepted Boss’s invitation to enter the apartment, but not his offer of dinner.

“SANS, GET OUT.  The Ambassador has something to discuss with me.”

He nodded and limped towards the door.  Grillby’s it was, then.

“Actually,” Frisk said, not moving from her spot in the doorway, “I need to speak with Sans for a moment.”  She glanced between him and Boss, amusement evident in the slight quirk of her eyebrow; Sans could only imagine what their expressions looked like.   “Alone, please, Papyrus.”

“Yes, your highness.”  Boss saluted and strode back towards his bedroom, shooting a very nasty glare at Sans as he went.

Screw this up, and you’re dust, the glare said.

Sans gulped audibly.   Message received.

Then they were alone.

“Do you, uh, want to sit...down?”

“Alright,” Frisk responded.  She headed not towards the couch that he’d been vaguely indicating but towards the dining room table.  He shrugged lightly and followed her.

They sat across from each other for a long moment, neither speaking.  He wasn’t sure how to break the silence without violating Boss’s rules, so he waited for Frisk to start first.

“I owe you,” she said, finally. Her voice was low, like she didn't want Boss to overhear.

“Uh…”

“What do you want?”  The question held a lot less animosity than Sans had been expecting, especially considering how completely she’d cut him out of her life.

“I…”   I want to see Attie again, he yearned to say.   Just for a moment.  Just to make sure she’s okay, and doing her Science and Math, and eating properly; nothin’ weird.  Just to say goodbye.

“Do you think Frisk wants a filthy pest like you in her daughter’s life?”

“I don’t...want anything,” he said, fiddling with his fingers.

“What?  Nothing?”

“Nope.  Never...uh, never did.”

And it was true.  From the day he’d found Attie in the bushes outside her house he hadn’t even considered collecting payment for his actions.  It showed a stunning lack of self-preservation on his part - Frisk was a powerful woman, and her favor could get him nearly anything he could ever want - but he was just...tired.

“Then, why-”

“I just didn’t want a kid to watch her mom die, okay?” He took a deep, needless breath, fighting to keep his voice down.  “I don’t...I don’t know where this idea came from that I want you dead’n a ditch somewhere, but that’s...not true, okay?  We...you ‘n me, we haven’t always gotten along, sure, but I don’t get along with most folks.  Hell, I don’t get along with Grillbz half the time.  Doesn’t mean I’m waitin’ in a back alley for him, tryin’ to extort money off ‘im whenever he’s having a bad day.”

“Okay, but you’ve done so much for us.  For me.”  Frisk’s hands pressed to the dingy tabletop without regard for the stains that littered its surface as she leaned towards him.  “Even if you didn’t help us so you could have something to hold over my head, isn’t there something you want?  I...I can talk to Papyrus about getting your shifts reduced, at least?  It isn’t fair that you should have to make up time when you were helping me.  It’s not like you were slacking off.”

“It’s fine.  Someone’s gotta watch the old place.”  And most of the other sentries had families, which was more of a consideration now than Sans wanted to admit.

“Okay, well...are you sure?  Is there anything you want?  Anything at all?”

A picture, he wanted to say.  You and Attie, smiling.  Just one - just something to remember the both of you by.  Something to remind me that you aren’t just the pretty painted statue I always see on TV.

“The ambassador’s daughter is too important a secret to be entrusted to the likes of you.”

He shook the thought away.  “Just...be happy, okay?  And make sure the kid does her Science.”  He couldn’t meet her eyes.

Weak, whispered his mind.   This is why you should stay away from them.  You’ll only drag them down to your level.

Frisk nodded, slowly, looking almost as lost as he felt.  “I...okay, I will.”

He gestured towards her ripped sleeve.  “And get your mom to patch that up, okay?”

“Alright,” she said.  She fidgeted with the ragged edge, apparently not bothered by the wound.  “Are...are you okay as well?”

“Fine.”

“Are you sure?  It looked like Papyrus kicked you-”

“I’m fine.  Really.”

Silence dragged on until it felt uncomfortable, then a few seconds past that.  Frisk watched him carefully the entire time, as if trying to peek into his soul by way of his eye sockets, but he forced all emotion down, down and away from her prying eyes.  There was no need for her to worry about scum like him.  “Well, then.  I suppose...I’d better leave you be, then.  And truly, Sans, thank you."

He nodded.  He didn’t think he could form words around all the things he couldn’t say.

“I’ll...see myself out.  If he asks, please let Papyrus know that I’m not happy with him; he’ll understand what it means.”  She stood, pushed in her chair, and was gone before Sans could think of a reason for her to stay.

He retreated to his room before Boss realized Frisk had left.  Passing on a message like that would probably cause a screaming fit, and he didn’t think he could handle another screaming fit.  His bones felt strangely fragile, like he was about to fall apart at any moment.  And what was there to keep him together?  Sans had just given up his best chance of getting everything he wanted, and he couldn’t tell if it was the right thing to do or the worst mistake of his life.

For most of the night he just sat on the edge of his mattress, face in his hands, and tried to ignore the tears that streamed down his cheekbones.

The next morning, he felt awful.  He hadn’t slept much at all but managed to drag himself out of bed on sheer force of habit.  The apartment seemed too quiet, just like it had every day for the past month.  How long would it take for him to get used to normalcy again?

Boss was out, as usual.  It abruptly occurred to Sans that he didn’t know what day it was.  He’d been counting days, sure (it had been 26 days since he'd last seen Attie), and it should be possible to figure out the day of the week from that, but he didn’t think his foggy mind would stand up to that much math.

He shuffled around in various pairs of dirty pants until he found his phone, only to find that it was dead.

Great.

It took only a moment to plug it in on his way to the kitchen, but even that felt like too much work.  It was surprisingly early; if he actually needed to go to his hot dog stand, he wouldn’t even have to run.  He stared for a long moment at the coffee machine, debating whether it was worth the effort.  On the one hand, it was even more work and he felt exhausted.  On the other hand...caffeine.

Deciding that caffeine was necessary to keep him going through the day, Sans dumped water and coffee grounds into the machine and started it up.

The door to his apartment slammed open just as the final drips of coffee were disappearing into the carafe.  For one terrible moment, he thought it was Boss; he nearly tripped over his own feet in an effort to get his back to the wall.

“...The hell, asshole?”

“Oh.  Hey, Undyne.”

“It’s CAP...y’know what?  Never mind.  Where’s your brother?”

“Uh...not here?”

“Don’t eff with me.  I can smell coffee.”

Sans wondered just how long Undyne had gone without sleep.  She looked nearly dead on her feet.  On the other hand, it was hilarious that she was still censoring her language around the apartment.  “Y’do remember that I can make coffee too, right?”

“Huh?  Oh, yeah, right.  Just didn’t think you’d bother.”

He sighed.  “Sit down, I’ll get you a mug.”

She grabbed at the piping hot carafe, ignoring the potential for burns.  “MUGS ARE FOR-”

“Yeah, yeah, but I want some too.  Go sit down or somethin’.”

Undyne actually sat down (in a chair, no less), which said a lot about her mental state.  She growled something under her breath when Sans moved the carafe, but settled down a little when he poked a mug of coffee into her field of vision.  The carafe itself followed, minus the contents of his own mug.

“See,” he said, sitting across from her at the table, “We can pretend to be all civilized.”

A skeptical eyebrow begged to differ.

“So, uh, whaddaya need Boss for?”

“He’s supposed to be on patrol around town this morning and he’s not answering his phone.  He always answers his phone.  So, that’s worrying.  Especially since there’s been an increase in weird stuff in the past few weeks, ever since...well.  You remember when Frisk was attacked by that bitch in the hospital?”

Sans did remember, but he was pretty sure the real “bitch” was the one who brought down the would-be assassin, not the assassin herself.  He knew better than to say that out loud, though.

“So, now that Frisk is able to perform the official interrogation we’re getting ready for the trial.  There’s a weirdly vocal group of humans who think we targeted this lady for some bullshit reason.  Don’t know who spread the rumors, but some of them are saying that we, I dunno, accused her at random because of her skin color??  Hah.  I don’t discriminate when taking down people who threaten my besties.”  She took an aggressive gulp of coffee, then refilled her mug.

“That’s weird.  Do they have any proof?  I mean, we caught this lady in the act.  We have video evidence of what happened.  ‘Ts not like we lined up a bunch’ve humans and framed the one that’d cause us the most trouble.”

“Eh, most of the human media won’t touch our footage; they say it’s fake.  Lotsa folks are saying we made up the whole thing, especially since the hospital’s official stance is that it was some kinda huge accident.  HAH!  I’m glad we got Frisk out of that place; one of the doctors was apparently bein’ a real creep.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah.  Someone was tryin’ to get the hospital to keep her locked up for ‘mental distress’ or some kind of bullshit like that.  Kept tryin’ to turn away visitors, too.  That’s why there was the big rush to get her out of there.  Didn’t think you’d dump the kid on her right away, though.”

Sans’s head was spinning.  A doctor?  Was that Dr. Ray?  And: “...I didn’t dump the kid, Undyne.  Boss sent me out and passed off the kid before I got...uh, back.”

She stared at him.  “What are you talking about?”

“We’re talking about...about Frisk’s kid, right?”

“Yeah.  Attie.  You know her name, I know you do.”

He fidgeted.  He didn’t want to be having this conversation, especially not in his own dining room.  If Boss found out…

“Hey.”  Undyne leaned over.  “What the hell is going on in this dingy little apartment, anyways?  I get one story from Papyrus - and he’s my vice-captain; I know exactly how trustworthy he is - and I get another story from you.  What’s your game?”

“...Nothing?  Look.  I...I like the kid, okay?  Yeah, she was a little annoying at first, and I’m not convinced she won’t grow up to be a tyrant to rival Asgore, but...she kinda grew on me.  I tried to do my best with her, but Boss...he got worried.  He didn’t want Attie around someone like - well, like me - any longer than necessary.  I’m an asshole, remember?”

“Hmm.”  She finished up the last of the coffee, tilting the mug back to catch every last drop.  “Y’know, Papyrus can be a manipulative bastard sometimes, but usually I can call his bullshit.  This is just weird.  There’s no motivation for any of it.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I texted him as soon as I heard that Frisk was released.  We needed security to escort her home and all that, especially since she wasn’t in particularly good shape.  He was in charge of that part.  He showed up with Attie and without you, which was weird.  Said you were tired of watchin’ the kid; to me, at least.  Told Frisk she missed her mom too much.”  She paused, rubbing her eyes.  “Actually...I guess I knew something was up.  Attie’s story didn’t match his, after all, but she’s scared enough of Papyrus that we figured she didn’t have the full story.   Dammit.”

“I mean...it’s not a big deal?”

A forceful punch made a dent in the tabletop.  “It IS a big deal, you ASSHOLE!  My vice-captain lied to me!  I mean, that’s normal - he’s overdue for his annual assassination attempt, after all - but I’m supposed to RECOGNIZE it!  I’m LOSING my EDGE!”

Sans shuffled around the table and took the chair next to Undyne.  He had the weird urge to pat her on the back, like he'd do for Attie when she was upset, but thankfully quashed it.  She’d probably bite his arm off if he tried.  “Hey, it was a weird situation for all of us.  Boss, uh, explained things to me after; I think he was just lookin’ out for the kid.  I’m really not the best caretaker, remember?”

“What did he tell you?”

“Uh, what?”

“What did he ‘explain’ to you about this?”

He thought back to his battle with Boss in the park.  “He, uh, said that Attie was too important to be trusted with me.  He pointed out that...well, I’m not the most reliable guy, y’know?  And Frisk and I haven’t really gotten along.”

Undyne examined him through her single narrowed eye.  “And yet, she snuck out of the house, past our defenses, and wound up here last night.  Now, why would that be?”

She knew about that?  Was it a setup?  “Uh...she was sayin’ thanks?  She thought she owed me somethin’.”

“IT WAS A RHETORICAL QUESTION, YOU BAG OF BONES!  She came here because she DOESN’T hate your guts!  She CARES ‘bout you!  You impressed her!  She realized that you aren’t just the lazy shitstain you pretend you are!”

“But I am…”

“SHUT UP.  I’m Captain of the Royal Guard; I’ve seen your employee file.  Your real file.  The one without bizarre grease stains blotting out half the information.”

Sans hadn’t realized he’d missed a copy of those documents.   Good to know.

“I know what you’re capable of.  I know what you’ve done.  Oh, and while we’re on the topic: expect Asgore to give you a call sometime this afternoon about your... other job.”

“Okay…?”

“My point is, you pass yourself off as a lazy asshole.  Heck, most of the time you are a lazy asshole.  But somehow, Frisk saw something different.  Something she, well, doesn’t hate.  She really was grateful that you, y’know, saved her freakin’ life and took care of her kid out of the blue for a couple weeks, and she was a little hurt when you didn’t contact her at all after giving Attie back.  By the way, why didn’t you contact her after...well, after Attie went home?  They haven’t heard from you at all, which backed up what Papyrus said, but when they tried texting you their numbers were blocked. That's just not right.”

“So, uh, Boss kinda...messed with my phone.”

“WHAT?”

“He took off Frisk’s and Attie’s numbers, all the texts, the pictures…”

“WHAT?  Even the ones where we were doing training poses??”

He grabbed the carafe, started another pot of coffee, and scooted down the hallway to grab his phone.  It gave him whiny messages about having a low charge, but it turned on.

“Here,” he said, sliding it in front of Undyne.  “I don’t know how he blocked numbers, though.”  He didn’t want to watch her look through it - the missing pictures and texts still stung - so he retreated back into the kitchen to watch the coffee finish up instead.

He didn’t have many pictures left, so he was still fiddling with the coffee machine when she shrieked in outrage.  “THIS IS AWFUL!  Those were GREAT poses!”

“Yeah.  I sent ‘em to Frisk, y’know; she still has 'em, I bet.  She’d probably send them to you if you wanted.”

“HELL YEAH!  Hey, do you want them too?  You took ‘em, after all.  Even if he’s blocked Frisk’s number somehow, he wouldn’t dare block mine in case I need to text you for work.”

“Better not.  Boss still goes through my phone sometimes; if he finds a pic of Attie he’ll be pissed.”  He brought the full carafe to the table and set it in front of Undyne.  She needed it more than he did, and if it kept her talking…

“Hah.  Never understood why you put up with that bastard.  I mean, I put up with him because he’s got a good head for strategy and he’s a natural leader and I outrank him, but he just yells at you. And beats up on you, if Frisk's right about that.  That’s grounds for you to leave the family.  Why stay?”

“He’s...Boss?  I mean, we’ve always been that way.  Him ‘n me against the world.”

She downed an entire mug of coffee in one go.  “You know the world’s not like that anymore, right?  There’s only so much I can do as his boss, but there are other people willing to - urgh! - help.  Hell, go make puppy eyes at one of those human abuse rehab programs; they literally throw parties every time a monster shows up at their door.  They’d get you set up somewhere else.”

“C’mon,” he sighed, “Does that really sound like me?  Whatever you think you know about me from those files, I gave up a long time ago.”

A strange look grew across Undyne’s face.  It was the same look she wore when she had defeated a particularly challenging enemy, but without the wide-toothed grin.  “Attie misses you,” she said, voice carefully neutral.

Sans had no response to that.

“She told me so yesterday morning.  She’s sad that you won’t call her.  Thinks you don’t like her anymore.”

“Undyne, stop.”

“Hmm?  Why should I? I thought it didn't matter. I thought it wasn't a big deal.”

“Look.  It really is better if she just...forgets about me or somethin’.  ‘Sides, Boss said I’m not allowed to even say her name.  How’m I gonna-”

A fishy fist left another dent in the table.  “THAT’S THE POINT!  If Papyrus isn’t around, he’s not your ‘Boss’ anymore, right??  Yeah, I know it’s not normal for us to break up families, even now that we’re on the surface.  And I know that he's the head of your family.  But...sometimes you just gotta pick your battles, okay?  Besides, I KNOW you pay the bills around here.  You can move out any time you like.  File for emancipation so he can’t drag you back and all that.  And then maybe my besties will stop talking my gills off about how much they miss your bony ass.”

The thought of anyone missing his ‘ass’ was laughable, but he felt his skull turning colors anyways.  “I...uh, well, maybe.  I mean, it’s not so bad ‘round here, y’know?  And like you said, we’re family and I pay the bills.  Who’d take care of the ol’ place if I leave?”

“STARS, HAVE SOME SELF-RESPECT, WOULD YOU??  THERE ARE PEOPLE WHO ACTUALLY CARE ABOUT WHAT HAPPENS TO YOU!”  She chugged the remainder of the coffee.  “NOW I’VE GOT A CAFFEINE HIGH AND IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT!  I’VE GOTTA RUN THIS OFF BEFORE MY MEETING!  LET ME KNOW IF YOU SEE YOUR BASTARD OF A BROTHER!”

She slammed the door behind her, the sound echoing around in Sans’s skull.  She had a point, he knew.  There would be plenty of advantages to living alone.  No more punishments, more free time, the ability to cook his own meals…

...missed shifts because he didn’t get out of bed on time, time lost staring into nothing, crippling loneliness…

No, he wasn’t ready to go it alone, no matter how bad things got.  Boss was just...Boss.  Just the same as any other monster.  They were family, and that meant something to monsters.  Abandoning your family meant you were the lowest class of monster, worse than froggits.  Worse than dirt.  If Undyne and Frisk were worried, well, maybe they had forgotten just how bad things had been in the Underground.

He owed Boss, and that debt would never be repaid.

With a heavy soul, he tied his sneakers on and made his way over to his hot dog stand.

Boss, as it turned out, had been summoned by Asgore sometime early in the morning.  Undyne came down from her caffeine high long enough to text Sans about that, and to send him forceful messages in all caps warning him not to repeat anything she said while sleep-deprived.  He smirked.  Over the time he’d been taking care of Attie, Undyne’s attitude towards him had changed.  It was strange, having the excitable and ruthless Captain of the Royal Guard as some kind of...of friend, but it wasn’t bad.  He respected her, actually.

And in light of that respect, he reconsidered her words.  She had said that Attie missed him.  Just the thought of that tugged at his soul.  It shouldn’t have, of course; he’d only known her for such a short time.  And she was a little human kid.  Why should he care about a little human kid?

He deliberately did not think about the kid’s mother.

Luckily, he had bigger problems to take his mind off things.  Just as Undyne had predicted, Asgore called him just after Greater Dog and Lesser Dog stopped by the hot dog stand for lunch.  Sans cleared his nonexistent throat, willing himself to keep calm; the King of Monsters was terrifying, even over the phone.  “Uh, hello, your majesty.”

“Hello, Sans.  I am calling to discuss your return to a job you have not held in quite some time.”

Fear locked his bones.  “Uh, w-which job?”

“Hmm.  You have held several positions, have you not?  I feel that a phone conversation is not the best place to discuss this.  Come to my castle in the Underground immediately.”

“Y-yes, your maj-”

The king had already hung up.  Sans texted Undyne with shaking fingers, letting her know that he’d be late to his sentry shift due to a meeting with the king, then sent the same to Boss.  Better safe than sorry.

He grabbed a spare ‘dog and closed down the stand.  A sudden thought prompted him to glance down; he was still in his pyjamas.

Teleporting from an alley to his room saved him a lot of time and potential embarrassment.  He listened closely, but everything seemed quiet; with any luck, Boss was occupied elsewhere.  A sharp ding from his phone made him jump, but it was just Undyne telling him to take the first of his shifts off.

He changed into his button-down shirt and slacks, still clean from the last time he wore them, then stepped into a shortcut.  He couldn’t teleport all the way to the top of Mount Ebott - even if the distance wasn’t too much, there were magical protections in place - so he went in stages.  His first teleport brought him to his favorite lookout spot, just a short jog from the sentry station he handled most often.

The air was crisp and cool and the forest smelled like winter.  From his lookout spot he could see the town laid out below, rows and rows of houses and hospitals and schools and businesses tied together by thin veins of black.  There was a bit of activity in the streets, probably humans and monsters getting ready for Christmas (and maybe Takersfaire, if the monsters were feeling bold), but it was barely noticeable from such a distance.

A slight breeze wiggled its way between his bones as he walked towards his station.  There were two barriers on Mount Ebott: one just below the sentry stations, and one closer to the entrances where the original once stood.  The first - designed to alert sentries when someone approached the mountain - didn’t do anything in particular to block normal entry but he couldn’t teleport through it.  It was annoying to have to stop, walk through the barrier manually, then teleport again, but it was an old routine and he managed.

The second barrier, the one that protected the Underground from most intrusions, was one of his least favorite spots in the whole world.  It was almost entirely Frisk’s work.  Her magic always felt hostile against his bones; no matter how many times he climbed the mountain, he was always a little afraid that her barrier would refuse him entry...or dust him outright.

It was a surprise, then, when he didn’t feel the familiar crackle of angry magic as he approached.  Worry niggled at the back of his mind; had Frisk not refreshed it recently?  It had been a month since she was released from the hospital; surely she’d climbed the mountain at some point...right?  King Asgore still lived Underground most of the time, after all, and she loved him like a father despite everything.

The low hum of powerful human magic filtered slowly into his senses, more noticeable the closer he got.  Within arm’s reach of the barrier, it was so strong that it rattled his bones a little.  It felt nothing at all like he expected.  He carefully held out one hand towards the barrier, and found…

Gentle.  Welcoming.  “Hi, Sans!”

“What the hell?”  This...wasn’t normal.  Actually, what had Undyne said?

“She CARES ‘bout you!  You impressed her!  She realized that you aren’t just the lazy shitstain you pretend you are!”

...Yeah, Frisk had refreshed the barrier, alright.  He felt his entire skull turning colors.  Beads of sweat began to form under his collar and his breathing picked up.

Magic, even Frisk’s weird human magic, dealt a lot with intent.  When he and Frisk had been passive-aggressive enemies - and they had been as long as he could remember, exchanging japes and the occasional harsh word off and on - her intentions toward him had been wary and antagonistic.  Now…

Well.

Sans crossed the barrier and stepped into a shortcut before he could think too hard.

A pool of brilliant light met him on the other side.  Once upon a time this had probably been a majestic hallway, a tribute to the golden sun the monsters hadn’t seen for generations, but with so many more urgent problems and a general lack of reliable builders it had fallen into disrepair.  By the time he had seen it for the first time it had been half-buried and caved in, more of an obstacle to reaching the palace than an entryway.  It had only gotten worse over the years.

Now, it looked like someone was in the process of repairing the old place.  Most of the rubble had been cleared out and the weak parts of the ceiling and walls had been reinforced with scaffolding.  The shattered stained glass windows had been removed; lead scraps were piled in a corner, waiting to be repurposed.  The artificial light sources were harsh without the scraps of color the broken windows had provided.

The world...really was changing.

“Sans?” a deep voice boomed through the hallway, shattering his reverie.  “Come through to the throne room.  You and I have business to discuss.”