#in that position. can you imagine him trying to put the souls of the fleeing wens to rest like wwx and lwj did. can you imagine him

[the-unrelated-theorist]

Noble Vs. Ignoble Bosses

Please note that I am only referencing UTY to highlight my train of thought. I am NOT trying to suggest any connections between UTY and UTDR.

I try not to draw too heavily from AU's, but I noticed a pattern in UTY that made me realize something about UTDR. So, in UTY, almost all of the bosses become op simply to defend their own pride:

Decibat fights us to shut us up so he can go back to sleep. We don't even meet him in Genocide.

Dalv has some hidden power that we never see- he says at the end of a Pacifist that he "held back," which would make us think he would be difficult in Genocide, but he's not. He just assumes he's imagining us and the whole battle plays out exactly the same as in Pacifist.

El Bailador isn't even trying to fight, he just wants to dance, and we get hurt in the process. He doesn't appear in Genocide; presumably, he fled with the other monsters.

The Feisty Four only attack in Pacifist/Neutral because they're mad at Star and taking it out on you. We never even see them in Geno.

Starlo is difficult in Pacifist because he's defending his wounded ego, he's mad at himself but taking it out on you, but we don't even get a real battle in Genocide.

Axis is always following the instructions programmed into him by a monster with a deep-seated hatred of humans.

Ceroba is ridiculously hard in Pacifist because she loathes herself and is taking it out on you, but doesn't even get a proper second phase in Geno.

In all of these cases, the only one they are protecting in Pacifist is themselves (except Axis, who is strictly following programming). When it comes down to facing a Genocidal murderer, they just can't muster enough fighting spirit to do much of anything. Heck, Ceroba is only difficult in Geno because of revenge and pure rage. She says she's protecting monsters from us, but the only real reason she's fighting is because she's pissed at us for killing Starlo.

And... we actually see a similar pattern in UTDR:

Toriel fights us under the pretense of "protecting" us (which never made much sense to me, tbh), and she can muster almost no fighting spirit. It's very difficult to force her to kill you. And we one-hit her in Geno, she does no damage, she has no defense.

Maddie is semi-difficult in Pacifist/Neutral because they claim to be taking revenge for their cousin, but she can't even remember their name, and she flees as soon as Blookie starts crying on her. In Geno, Maddie stops caring about their cousin as soon as they merge with their dummy and become Gladdie. We don't even get a proper Maddie fight in Geno.

Muffet is semi-difficult even after a couple of playthrus, and what's her reasoning? Partly to save the spiders, but her motivation is mostly money- she was paid to kill us. She doesn't give a fig about other monsters at all, just spiders. We don't even encounter Muffet in Geno.

Mettaton. What's his reason for fighting us in Pacifist/Neutral? Purely selfish: he wants to be the star, not just in the Underground, but on the surface. Killing us and giving our SOUL to Asgore is just his way of accomplishing that. He doesn't give up until: a) we blow his arms and legs off so that he can't be much of a star at all anymore; and b) he gets a call from Blookie. Remembering what actually matters in life is what makes him end the fight. And in Geno, MTT becomes a literal one-hit wonder. When he has to fight to try to SAVE the world, he just isn't cut out for the job.

Asgore. Yeah, he puts up a fight in Neutral. He doesn't want to, tho. He's tired of fighting. He's tired of killing. He doesn't really want to go to war against humanity on the surface. So we can beat him. And in Geno? Where tf was he when his entire kingdom was being decimated??? We get to the throne room and he just offers us tea!

Flowey/Asriel, doesn't matter what name he goes by, every time we fight him, he's trying to defend his position as a wannabe god and keep playing with Chara forever. He fights because he has nothing left in the world to live for. He fights because that's the only thing he can still feel, the rage and the joy of killing. As soon as we remove that feeling from Asriel, he becomes a child's ghost, and then back to a flower, but a helpless and innocent one that can't fight at all anymore.

Lancer's first battle is the only time he poses any kind of a threat, because he's fighting for the right to become "son of the month." (And even I haven't ever died to him.) He's really not a threat in the fight against him and Susie, and he starts missing in the battle between him and Susie. He was never really out to hurt us at all.

Clover isn't too difficult because she's basically just fighting with herself and we got in the middle of it.

K. Round is never a threat, either, because they never wanted to fight, they were forced into it.

Susie (when we fight her alongside Lancer) is about as difficult as one would expect by the time the fight happens. She's fighting to maintain her persona as a bully and a bad person. In all actuality, tho... she's not as tough as we would expect from someone who keeps threatening to bite people's faces off.

Jevil is clinically insane, fighting and killing for the sheer fun of it, and is crazy hard.

Spade King is difficult, and his motivation is purely selfish. He doesn't care about his people- I mean, he wanted to throw his own son off a 5-story roof! He only cares about the Knight that put him into power, about maintaining that power status, and about revenge against the Lightners that sealed him away and never returned. His difficulty in battle is fueled by rage, revenge, and a lust for power.

Sweet Cap'n Cakes claim to be on a crusade, but they really only seem to be interested in having fun and making music without restrictions. Their battle is only difficult because all three of them attack at pretty much the same time and cannot be killed. Getting all of them to dance at the same time ends the battle. Their shop in the city disappears completely in a Snowgrave.

Rouxls is... um, can we even call that a battle? You know what, let's just not even try to analyze him right now....

Spamton. His only reason for fighting, in either Normal or Snowgrave, is to become a [[BIG SHOT]]. And we know how difficult Spammy is. In reality, he's no harder in Snowgrave than in a Normal Route. It just seems harder because there's only one hero character to fight him with.

There are only 3 characters between UTY and UTDR that are more difficult in a No Mercy route than in a Normal route:

Martlet is the last boss that is highly unlikely to kill you at all in Pacifist/Neutral. She turns into sans of UTY in a Geno- and that's her second battle. She's pretty OP when we encounter her in Snowdin, too.

Undyne is difficult enough in Pacifist/Neutral, but we have the option to flee. Her reasoning is that, since she is the Captain of the Royal Guard and Monsterkind's Hero, it is her duty to take our SOUL. But in Genocide, she changes completely. Her Determination, which causes her to melt in a Neutral, suddenly gives her the power to completely transform into a god-like character. And why? Because she is the only thing that stands between us and the world. Because she can see that we aren't just a human- we're some kind of demon that will destroy everything. She's not just fighting for monsters, but for humans, as well.

sans fights us for the same reason, albeit far too late to save the monsters. But he realizes that we will tear down the rest of the world if we keep going, and something inside him decides that he can't allow that. We actually don't know why he suddenly decides to care so much, but he does. He uses every ability he has, from karma, to Gaster blasters, to bone attacks, to teleportation, to even sleeping, just to make us quit. Because he knows we'll kill Asgore. And then there will be nothing to keep us from destroying the rest of the world. We NEVER fight sans in a Pacifist/Neutral, only in Geno. So this weird little guy with only 1 HP left to his name stands up to us, knowing full well that one day we will kill him, but he is literally the ONLY thing left to stop us from destroying the entire world. He may be too late, but when he finally steps up, it's for the right reason. There is no more selfishness in his battle than there is in Undyne's. Both sans and Undyne have no interest in personal gain or glory, but in saving the world.

And then there are 3 anomalies, all of them in UTDR:

Berdly is, to my knowledge, the only character to be no more and no less difficult in Snowgrave than in Normal. (Well, maybe a little easier in Snowgrave, but that's just because of Noelle's spells, not because Berdly himself changed.) He puts up the best fight that he possibly can, no matter whether he is protecting himself, or trying to save Noelle. This, to me, suggests 2 possibilities: a) he cares just as much about Noelle as he does about himself; or b) he really was fighting for Noelle in both routes. I don't think the second option is entirely true, since in a Normal fight, he does "hit [Noelle] in the face with a tornado," and talks more about himself and how superior he is to everyone else than he does about Noelle. But even so, I think she always was a big part of his reason for fighting.

Queen is the only character to have a difficult battle (with multiple phases, no less) in a Normal Route, and no battle at all in Genocide, who is not doing it for purely selfish reasons. Granted, it seems likely that she would want to preserve her comfortable, regal lifestyle, but not only does she never cite this as a reason for fighting, she doesn't even balk at having to leave her mansion and move into Ralsei's castle. The only reason she ever gives for fighting is trying to help the Lightners (the exact opposite of her ex-husband).

I say this all the time: Papyrus CANNOT kill you. Not without the player seriously breaking the game. And as I understand, at Undertale's initial release, he could kill you, accidentally, if certain conditions were met; but this happened very rarely and has since been entirely patched out. So. For all intents and purposes, he CANNOT kill you. So the fact that there is no real Papyrus battle in Genocide is kind of a moot point, since he was never going to kill you, anyway. And, as many people have pointed out, Papyrus should be able to kill you, probably even one-hit you no matter your LV, in a Pacifist/Neutral route. But he breaks the game to make sure that doesn't ever happen, whether by lowering his own stats, moving the final large bone in his "really cool regular attack," etc.

Anyway. I said all this just to make some points about the characters: that most of them pretty well parallel real life. Truth is, most people don't give their all for the right reasons. Most people do only fight to protect themselves and their egos, and not to protect others.

[4dudesfromthe0oze]

Healing (rottmnt fic) Part I

(( @lexywrittes I hope I’m tagging the right person 👀))

Warning! May contain spoilers for the ROTTMNT Movie! I recommend watching the movie :) very soul crushing.

This is gonna be posted in separate parts cuz I’m pretty sure the whole thing is gonna be massive 👀

cw: angst, lots of angst :) spoilers for the rottmnt movie.

word count: 2,423

After the near invasion of the Kraang, the brothers work on healing, processing and coping with the physical and mental trauma they had to endure. The youngest brother, Michelangelo, continues to behave as the family therapist though it becomes clear that the young turtle could also use some talking to.

The turtle stares up into the sky as the world falls apart around him. The mission to stop the Kraang.. to save Raph… it was a failure. There was shouting, the screams and cries of the people of New York as they try to flee.

He stands frozen as his brothers try to fight off the Kraang before suddenly… stab… Both Leonardo and Donatello stabbed straight through their plastrons as the poor Michelangelo stands frozen, helpless to watch. He cries out his brothers names as he tries to rush over only to suddenly be stopped by the Kraangified Raphael.

“R-Raph-!”

He’s cut off as tentacles wrap around his neck and start to choke him. Tears swell in his eyes as he calls out for his older brothers before suddenly… he wakes up. He wakes up in a cold sweat, his hand holding his neck as he pants for air and tears pouring from his eyes.

You’d think he’d be used to dreams like this by now considering how many nightmares he’s had since the incident… but no. The memories still brought him so much pain. Thinking about how Leo was nearly lost to the prison dimension… the countless occasions where Donnie was in danger because of his exposed soft shell… the danger he himself was in…

Mikey lets out a sniffle as he tries to hold back his tears, grabbing his phone to look at the time but then winces at the brightness. It was the crack of dawn and none of his brothers would be awake right now. As he sets his phone down, he takes a look at his hands that were bandaged up. For a moment he imagines the cracks there… his body falling apart...

He takes in a deep breath, letting out a sigh before getting out of his hammock and leaving his room, deciding to go get breakfast started considering his brothers would be awake soon. It’ll also be a good distraction from the awful way he was awoken.

Mikey silently made his way to the kitchen, noticing the smell of food that only became stronger as he got closer to the kitchen. He silently peeks his head in and see his two older brothers, Raphael and Donatello, at the stove.

“I don’t think I’m doing this right… The pancake looks… weird.”

“How hard can it be to make a pancake? It’s just some flour and water.”

Donnie comments as he starts to prepare himself some coffee. Raph grumbles a little as he stares at the pancake in the pan with intense focus.

“How do I know if it’s done?”

Raph asks, glancing to Donnie who places his mug under the coffee machine.

“I dunno. Isn’t it supposed to look a gold-ish brown on both sides?”

“Yeah, but how am I supposed to know when the other side is cooked properly?”

Raph reiterates as he grabs the spatula and hand to the pan in preparation to flip the pancake.

“Again, I dunno.”

“Some help you are, Don.”

“What do you expect? I’m a scientist, not a chef.”

Donnie crosses his arms as he leans against the counter, putting him in the position to see Mikey at the door of the kitchen.

“Oh. Good morning, Michael.”

He waves, Raph turning his attention to the door when hearing Donnie talking to Mikey. He smiles to his younger brother who smiles in return as he walks into the kitchen.

“Good morning, Mikey! You’re up pretty early.”

Raph sets down the spatula as he walks to Mikey who stares at the countertop that had some flour and some of the mix scattered about.

“I can say the same for the both of you. Especially you, Donnie.”

Mikey points out as Donnie goes through the fridge to retrieve the milk.

“Bold of you to assume I’ve slept, dear ‘Angelo.”

He grabs the milk and closes the fridge behind him, receiving a look from Raph.

“Ya seriously gotta get better sleep, Don.”

“Science waits for no man nor turtle, Raphael.”

Donnie responds as he takes the milk and pours some into his coffee, grabbing his spoon and stirring it. Mikey lets out an amused chuckle before turning his attention back to Raph.

“You do normally wake up earlier than us, but this is stills pretty early even for you.”

Mikey comments, watching as Raph’s expression drops to a nervous one. He awkwardly chuckles as he glances to the side to avoid seeing Mikey’s gaze.

“Yeah- uh- about that- um-… I-I just happened to have woken up at this time. Ain’t nothing weird about it.”

He quickly speaks, Mikey’s eyebrow raising with a small smirk.

“…Right… anyways, heard you were making pancakes. Sounds like you set strugglin’ though. I can take over from here!”

Mikey smiles as he walks past Raph to the stove and grabs the spatula. Suddenly Raph’s hands were on his shoulders picking him up and away from the stove.

“Nuh uh. You need ta’ rest. Big bro Raphie’s got breakfast covered!”

Raph takes the spatula from Mikey who stares up at him with a bratty pout.

“But cooking is my thing!”

Mikey tries to reach for the spatula but Raph holds it up too high for him to reach.

“Well today your thing is relaxing. Your arms are still hurt, Mikey.”

“Um… Raph-“

Donnie tries to speak but is interrupted by Mikey trying to climb on to Raph to get the spatula.

“I’m fine, Raph! Let me cook!”

“Mikey! Get down! You’ll hurt yourself!”

Raph tries to carefully remove Mikey from his back as he continued to reach for the spatula.

“Raph-“

Mikey manages to grab the spatula, laughing in triumph before falling off of Raph’s shoulder and hitting the floor.

“Mikey!”

Raph quickly gets down to help Mikey up. He lets out a small groan, having landed on one of his arms. He looks up at Raph with a sour expression before hitting him with the spatula.

“Ow! What was that for?!”

“For being a jerk! Now put me down so I can-“

“Guys! The pancake is burning!”

Donnie finally manages to call out, the two turning their attention to the stove. Raph sets Mikey down and takes back the spatula before quickly rushing to the stove.

“Why didn’t you say anything earlier, Donnie?!”

“I’ve been trying, but you two buffoons ignored me over your bickering, Raphael!”

Donnie snaps back before taking a sip out of his coffee. Raph tries to remove the pancake from the pan but the pancake was unmoving. Mikey stares and watches before giving Raph a look.

“Ya made sure to use butter, right?”

“Uh… I-I needed to use butter…?”

Raph asks with a nervous look, Mikey face palming before crossing his arms.

“Yes, Raph, you needed to use butter to make sure the pancake didn’t stick on the pan.”

“…Oh… We don’t have any butter…”

Raph mutters, receiving a sigh from Mikey as he shakes his head. He takes the spatula and pan from Raph and brings it over to the garbage. With some work he was able to get the pancake off, managing to hide the physical strain the struggle had on his arms.

“…Let’s just have some cereal…”

Mikey suggest with the best smile he could muster, bring the pan and spatula to the sink and tossing it in.

“Right… Oh, Donnie, could you check on Leo?”

Raph requests to high Donnie nods. He gets off from leaning on the counter and leaves the kitchen. Raph’s attention returns to Mikey who went through the cupboards and took out a box of cereal. He noticed the frown in Mikey’s expression which causes him to frown as well.

“…Look… I wasn’t trying to deny you of what you like doing… but your arms aren’t in the best condition… I just… didn’t want to you hurt ya’self…”

Raph grabs the carton of milk and brings it to the table but not before stopping beside Mikey and placing his hand on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry. I should’ve voiced my worries better.”

Mikey looks up at Raph as he takes out the lucky charms. He silently thinks about his older brothers words before smiling up at him.

“It’s cool, Raph. I know you’re just looking out for me, but my arms aren’t that damaged to the point I can’t make pancakes for the family.”

Mikey takes the cereal with him before placing it on the table, Raph following and putting the milk beside.

“I know… It’s just that… You saw- You felt what was happening to your body when you opened up that portal… We… W-We could’ve…”

Raph’s words get caught in his throat, unable to finish his words. Mikey frowns, going to his eldest brother and hugging him.

“…Yeah… b-but you guys didn’t… I was okay… We’re okay…”

Michelangelo speaks softly. He was pretty short compared to Raphael, his arms not even able to reach to his brothers back. Raph stares down at the youngest of the brothers, a warm smile appearing before he carefully and gently hugs him in return.

“…Right… We’re okay…”

Mikey smiles at Raph’s words before gently patting his back.

“Now that we’ve got that out the way, let’s sit down and eat. I’m hungry.”

He breaks the hug and playfully nudges Raph out the way so he can grab the bowls and spoons. Raph chuckles before going to the table and taking a seat.

Meanwhile with Donatello, he approaches Leonardo’s room, taking a peek inside and seeing his brother still asleep. He was about to leave the room before noticing Leo’s face scrunching up in discomfort.

Donnie frowns a little, both in discomfort as he realises he’ll have to deal with whatever’s bothering Leo and because something was bothering Leo. He lets out a sigh before entering the room.

He stares down at Leo, trying to think of what to do. A robotic arm comes out of his battle shell and gently pats Leo’s head.

“Hey um… ‘Nardo? You good?”

Donnie asks, hoping it was going to be as simply as patting him and trying to get his attention. Unfortunately, it wasn’t, Leo’s discomfort visibly worsening as he tosses over and trembles.

“…Leo…”

He reaches over and nudges his shoulder with his actual hand. Leo whines before his eyes open. He quickly sits up with a yell, tears in his eyes and his arm extended as if he was reaching to something... or perhaps someone.

“N-NO!”

Donnie lets out a startled yelp, jumping back and holding his hands up in a defensive position. He quickly fixes his composure, staring at Leo with a worried expression when seeing his tears.

He doesn’t say anything for a moment, not sure how to approach the situation in front of him though he’s going to have to figure out soon as Leo has now noticed he was there.

“Uh… H-Hey, Leo…?”

Leo is stunned for a moment before quickly moving his hands to wipe away his tears.

“H-Hey, Don! What um… wh-what brings you uh… why are you in my room…?”

Donnie didn’t say anything at first, surprised by how fast Leo was able to act as though nothing happened. He couldn’t help but wonder how often Leo’s done this before that it looked so convincing he was okay… He then remembers that he had to say something.

“Raph sent me to check on you… doesn’t look like you were having a good sleep though… Bad dream?”

Donnie asks as he now looks to Leo who frowns as he confirms that he was in his room while he was having a nightmare. Leo glances to the side, not saying anything before proceeding to nod.

“Y… Yeah…”

He mutters as he wipes away his last lingering tear. Donnie notices this but doesn’t comment on it. Instead, he takes a seat at the edge of Leo’s bed, staring away to avoid eye contact.

“Ah… Those do suck, huh…? Well um… As you already know I’m not good with the whole ‘emotions’ mumbo jumbo… but if you need someone to talk to… whenever you feel like talking about… I’m here, brother…”

Donnie looks to Leo with a reassuring smile, much to his surprise. Leo couldn’t help but smile in return.

“…Okay… Thanks, D.”

Leo responds, receiving a pat from Donnie. There was an awkward silence between the two once Donnie moved his arm away.

Eventually Donnie clears his throat, getting up off of Leo’s bed. He returns his attention to Leo who stares up at him.

“You um… want some coffee?”

“Uh… Yeah… coffee would be nice. Two-“

“Two spoons of sugar and some coffee creamer?”

Donnie interrupts, Leo surprised that his brother knows exactly how he likes his coffee. He stumbles on his words before managing to speak.

“Y-Yeah that’s um… How do you know exactly how I like my coffee?”

Leo asks with a curious expression to which Donnie crosses his arms with a small scoff.

“You think I’d forget something as minuscule as that? I keep tabs on everything. What you guys are into, what you’re afraid of, general dislikes, etcetera.”

Donnie goes on to explain. Leo stares as Donnie before managing to smile.

“Wow, Don. Didn’t think you were so thoughtful. What happened to that ‘bad boy’ image you’ve been working on?”

Leo receives a glare from Donnie which only makes his smirk grow wider.

“Keep making jabs at me, ‘Nardo, and you won’t get coffee.”

Donnie flicks Leo’s forehead who lets out an exaggerated whine.

“Okay okay… Ow…”

“Oh shush. I know that didn’t hurt you.”

Leo couldn’t help but chuckle as Donnie sees right through his act. When he looks back up at Donnie he sees him smiling.

“…I’ll be back in a minute. Don’t do anything stupid.”

“Can do!”

“I doubt it.”

“Hey!”

Donnie chuckles as he leaves Leo’s room. The red-eared slider watches as his soft shell brother leaves, his smile falling flat as he stares down at his injured body. Flashes of his dream replay in his mind which causes him to frown, a guilty look in his expression has his hands clench into a fist. He still hasn’t forgiven himself for the mistake he made that nearly cost him his brothers… his families life…

His hands unclench as he lets out a heavy sigh, glancing to the side and looking to the crutches on the side of his bed. With a determined expression he grabs them and starts to get up. ‘I’m tired of just laying around in bed and being a burden… Time for me to get up!’

[llycaons]

actually forget about the immaturity and the inability to control his anger and the tendancy to be manipulated. jc would fucking suck as a chief cultivator because he consistently and demonstrably does not care about people outside his circle and he actively encourages his sect members to abandon them when they're in danger. this is something I actually understand for his situation, but it's not really a quality I want in a leader of the entire cultivation world!

[darkdevasofdestruction]

An Angel and A Demon ~ Pyramid Head x Reader

Update 2: My laptop restarted when I was in the middle of writing this, and trust me when I say it, I am positively pissed off, and I want to end my days, that's how bad of a day this was.

And I didn't leave the house.

That says a lot about today...

Update 1: But, without further ado, I was half-way writing this story, and I received this ask, and let me tell you...

helloooo, i absolutely adored the fanfics you wrote about kazan and danny🥺 could i request one where pyramid head is just really whipped for and in love with the survivor! reader but he doesnt know how to announce it to them so he brings her random ,,gifts" in and outside the trials and protecting her bc well, im pretty sure he cant speak so he doesnt really have any other options on how to express his feelings??

I live for it.

Bless you for sending me this, it's the reason I'm still sane right now.

I love you, baby-cakes.

Update 3: I want to kill myself so bad. Just smash my head on a wall until it explodes or sth. I was so happy with how this imagine turned out, only fuck fucking tumblr to just fucking delete EVERYTHING just as I was about to put the last gif and hit POST NOW.

--------

For the 5th time writing this :

FUCKMEDADDY - but this time - FUCKMYBRAINSOUTPLEASEIWANNADIE

Thanks.

-------

Hell - What was that place, anyway?

Some would describe it as an infinite ocean of flames and lava, where it's eternally melting-hot, and a bunch of hooved, horned, tailed red demons torture you with acid, with their red pitch forks, or boil you alive in their cauldron for soup. Or maybe you just get tortured by Stalin, who knows?

But never would have anyone thought that 'Hell' could look so...Normal. Well, normal in a very demolished, desolate, ravished way, but still...Normal, by human standards. Albeit, the never-ending loop of madness, anguish, agony and desperation of getting killed in different gruesome ways or fleeing for their lives and feeling a myriad of emotions pumping adrenaline through their veins so badly that their anxiety-meter skyrocketed to abnormal levels.

All this darkness, this hatred, this...Everything...It changed all the survivors. They became selfish, stubborn, rude, some even went as far as to sacrifice their fellow survivors in trials, just so they could survive. It was a complete mayhem that defied all kinds of reason, normality, morality or even ethics. Everyone became devoid of any laws that used to bind them to their humane sides, and now, you weren't sure if the killers were saner than the survivors or not.

But even in this abyss where you couldn't even see your hand in front of your very eyes, there was a little star - A beautiful angel radiating brightness and warmth, someone who was somehow able to guide everyone's straying souls with her benevolence.

In reality, she was merely a survivor, not the little lantern from an angler fish's head, but she treated everyone with such an untainted kindness...It was beautiful, and yet, unrequited for most parts. Everyone was still putting their own lives above all - And who could condemn them? - Perhaps their cowardice, for the girl preferred to save her fellow survivors as much as possible, even if that oftentimes assured her place on the hook, to be a sacrificial lamb for the Entity.

On the other hand, she rarely ended up on the hook - Most killers prefer to kill her themselves, instead of letting her become pray for the horrible Entity who tortured so many of them for refusing to cooperate - The Trapper, Evan MacMillan - He knew the best, with those hooks digging into his flesh, impossible to extract. He was the first to protect this girl. It wasn't much, but if he had to, he'd rather give her a swift, painless death, than seeing her without that serene, angelic smile on her face, as the Entity feeds on the last bits of her soul's beauty, the last parts of her humanity.

The other Killers were confused at the Trapper's actions, but little by little, they began to understand why this girl was so precious and special - And this domino effect hit Rin Yamaoka next, with Y/N stopping in the middle of a chase and taking off her jacket, just as Rin was about to butcher her with her katana, and she smiled, extending it to her. 'You must be cold' she said, realising that the Spirit was merely wearing a few bandages, not even her school uniform, or her kimono.

The ghost girl was shaken up by this, and told the others at the killer camp, but they just shrugged it off - Rin was a little girl who faced close to no kindness, they weren't surprised she was so taken aback by such a feat. That is, until Adiris, in a particularly terrible day, when everyone at the camp was staying away from her, as her profane censer wasn't able to cover the stench of rotting flesh - Y/N came over, taking out a small yet elegant glass bottle with pink liquid on it, spraying some on her - And now, The Plague smelled of roses and vanilla - 'You can come to me for perfume whenever you want, I always carry some with me!' she grinned at the Babylonian High Priestess, before leaving back to the survivor's camp site, leaving the ancient God symbol to stare with her mouth agape at the girl.

These words began to spread, and it was no surprise when the killers saw Susie clinging and begging her Legion friends to spare Y/N, for she was there to hug away her worries more than once, to tell her sweet words, to play with her hair and play the guitar whatever songs she wanted to hear, to get reminded of her home - She was so home sick that she freaked out, but now she was better, thanks to Y/N - 'I know you miss home, but sometimes, home is where your best friends are, and all three of them are here!' she tried to encourage the cute pink-haired girl who could only squeal and hug her new friend.

Even Ghostface wasn't exempt from falling to her charms, and they would often take silly selfies and mess around, making fun of the old horror movie tropes and doing lots of puns and pranks - So much that she even got his trust to be told about the Danny/Jed thing, and how he began his killer profession - 'You're a very talented photographer, Danny! You deserved all that recognition you got, both as a journalist, and as a killer!'

And very soon, Y/N found herself in the crushing arms of an overprotective Anna, humming her mother's lullaby together with walking through the forest, Y/N making flower crows for all the female killers at the camp site, and little by little, she somehow managed to worm her way under everyone's skins.

Y/N was the survivor with the highest survivability percentage, and maybe the Entity sometimes got pissed off, but at least she still got killed sometimes, so who cares? Well, that was soon to change as soon as a new Killer was added to this sick game - Pyramid Head, the terror of Silent Hill, as Cheryl, the new Survivor, called him - or The Executioner, as he was known now. He was ruthless, merciless, grotesque - He had his own criteria of killing, his own moral compass, ethics, conscience and understanding of the concept of life and death. Nothing that could compare to the visions of humans, clearly - Everything was gravitating around Divine Retribution and Justice, but the from the outside, he was nothing but a killing machine.

He would kill everyone and anyone that crosses his path, without fail.

Y/N felt like her fortune ended completely the second she found herself in the new, overly cramped map, with Pyramid Head as the killer - She couldn't help but run around like a spazzic meerkat, trying to find and fix as many generators as possible, without having to get face to face with the walking hazard...

Only to run past a stuck Pyramid Head.

Slowly backtracing her steps, she saw the mountain of a man with his metal pyramid stuck in the frames a low window which he tried to walk over. He was trashing like a raged bull trying to attack a matador, but it was clear he was getting nowhere with this.

"H-Hey, u-uhm...Need some help?" she asked in a soft, careful voice, almost like a meek cat trying to test the waters, but in return, he started groaning even louder from the wrath he wanted to unleash upon the whole world. "Okay, uhm...I think I saw a can of vaseline in one of the chests around. I'll go fetch it and I'll come back for you. Don't move." she said, only to then realise how horrible that sounded, considering the situation, and it only seemed to anger the killer. "...I'm sorry, ignore me, I'm an idiot." she slapped herself pretty harshly before bolting out of there trying to find the chest.

However, Y/N cursed herself for not having perfectly memorised the whole map by heart already, since she found the vaseline can after the 3rd chest, and then, it took quite a while to find the bloody window that got the killer stuck - And by the time she got there, she was dead tired. "Okay, I'm here, I found the vaseline! Let's try to get you out of here." Y/N muttered as she put her feet on the low window pane to get to his level. "If it's not too much trouble, could you please hold onto me? I can't balance myself with both hands occupied, and I'd rather not fall." she explained as she opened the vaseline can, only to shiver as she felt two big, strong hands getting a firm grip on her hips. It was almost...Endearing, were she not too busy trying to get the killer unstuck. She kept massaging the metal edge, trying to push and pull, also praying to whatever deity that existed in her human world that she had her tetanus shot done on time - Until finally, she was able to get hear a loud screech, like a pop, and the killer got unstuck, and in the process, he stumbled backwards, while Y/N fell down on her butt.

"Ouchie..." she muttered, rubbing her back and sides to take away the pain surging through her body. "Are you okay?" she asked, almost intuitively, without realising it at first, until she heart a low grunt that brought her back to reality. "O-Oh...! You have glass shards stuck in your side! And you're bleeding too! Hold up, let me help." she hurried to his side, while the killer merely stiffened, feeling her delicate, slender fingers tracing his body, while he heaved and slouched his shoulders from the repressed wrath. "It may sting a bit, and I'm really sorry, but I promise it will be better soon." her voice was so motherly and warm, which also resonated in her actions, as she gingerly took a water bottle and imbued some tissues with it, to wipe away the blood smearing down his skin as she extracted the glass shards, and then..."This is grandma's marigold ointment. It's really good, and it smells nice." she explained as she carefully smeared a thick layer of the yellow ointment on the biggest wounds, while the little ones were covered by smiley-flower patterned plasters. They were cute, and colourful, and they never failed to make her smile. "Okay, there we go, all better! I hope you'll feel better very soon!" her voice got a tiny bit more cheerful and upbeat.

It made the Killer think about a trillion things, as he stepped in front of her, towering over her like the Empire states building next to a smiling pomeranian. What was with this girl? Why did she help a killer? And why did he feel so...Warm inside? He could sense a foreign kind of luminosity, a naivite and innocence that he only witnessed in children and animals. This woman in front of him was untainted by the darkness and evil of the world.

It didn't matter how many hardships she's been through, or how much sadness she had to endure - Her soul remained as pure as any snowdrop, as the first snow of winter, as the fleece of a baby lamb who let out its first 'meeeeh' to its mamma sheep.

He couldn't allow this human to be maimed in any way - Not by the world, not by the Entity, and certainly not by him. - Screw the Entity, Pyramind Head kills by his own rules, and now, he was blessed to be faced with a human who bore no real hatred for her peers, or for the world, despite the horrible situation she was thrown into.

He didn't understand, obviously, especially as he remembered the myriad of abominations that lurked through Silent Hill, all of them created by the torment of humans - The very torment that distorted their own reality, which resulted in him needing to solve the purpose as The Executioner - Eradicating the world of all evil.

"Th-This sword is so heavy...H-How can you carry this around like that...?! Your muscles must be so strained and sore...Y-You really need a massage, I'm sure." she stuttered as she tried to lift the much taller and heavier sword from the ground, only for the brute to simply bend and pick it up with extreme ease, putting the girl to shame with her complete lack of strength. "Hehe...You're really strong. I'm embarrassed now." she chuckled softly, scratching the back of her neck.

Before she could leave or do anything else, Pyramid Head picked her up by the throat, careful not to hurt her or restrict her air intake - I mean, how else was he supposed to carry her so he wouldn't hurt her with his metal head or sword? - and it was pretty clear she didn't feel any malevolence from him, as she clinged on his forearm, trying to keep herself up, only to be dumped on top of the hatch, as the killer pointed towards it, so she would leave.

"O-Oh...! Thank you so much! You're really kind! I really appreciate this...I-I know it probably doesn't matter much to you, since you'll be doing this over and over again with all the survivors...But I really appreciate you for your kind gesture, and I appreciate you for being so nice with me. Thank you. Take care!" her dazzling smile lit the whole place up, but he couldn't talk, nor could he tell her how he should be the one thanking her for showing him that, despite the hundreds and thousands of years he had to roam the 'Earth' and execute the injust, miracles still existed.

As soon as she reached the survivor's camp, everyone cheered for her, asking how in the world could she have escaped the wrath of the butcher. "Oh, but he wasn't that bad. In fact, he's much more humane than I anticipated! I think he has a beautiful, blooming heart!" okay, she's lost it - the other survivors thought - but even so, she's always been a bit...Out of it, so who cares?

It took quite a while for the other three survivors to reach the camp, all bloody, in fact, like the new killer, who dragged himself with the same menace to the Killers' camp. "How the hell did you manage to survive?!" they yelled at her in utter shock, seeing that she got out of there unscratched. "Oh, you see...I found the hatch." she shrugged simply, not wanting to give away that the person who massacred those three was a soft one and he basically threw her down the hatch to her safety.

As she took a twig to roast a marshmallows, she noticed how Pyramid Head was standing much farther away from the rest of the killers - She knew that silent killers were bound to stay away from the more obnoxious one, remembering how Michael Myers almost killed Ghostface and The Legion at least a dozen times - But this time...He seemed kinda...Lonely? So Y/N took the matters into her own hands, roasted another marshmallow in another twig, and when it was done, she went to the killer's camp, calling out the lonely one's name - She has no idea why, but he actually followed her, pushing her further deep into the forest, until he was sure nobody was going to hear, see or interrupt them...

"Hey. You seemed pretty lonely out there...I thought you could use a friend. Thank you again for what you did at the trial...Here, this is a marshmallow. I don't think you've had many before...Cheryl told me of that horrible place you had to live in...So I hope this will make your day a bit better!" Y/N extended one of her hands towards him, so he could take the marshmallow - And a long, black tongue erupted from underneath the pyramid, snatching away the fluffy marshmallow and gulping it in one go.

What the hell was he turning into?

A towering man built of pure muscle, wrath and divine justice, with a pyramid representing the evil of humanity burdening his body, and a sword taller and heavier than the average human being constantly dragged in one of his hand...He now was a slave to a cute, innocent girl who was putting flower plasters on his minuscule wounds that would heal in a heartbeat regardless - He saved this girl who was now offering his these soft, squishy things that tasted overly sugarly, just like her upbeat and cheerful personality - If he could eat her, he was sure she would taste even sweeter than this - A sickish kind of sweet, that is.

She was indeed a beautiful angel in this tragic hell. But he didn't wait to snatch the second marshmallow either.

"Ah...! You liked it, didn't you? Well...Next time, I promise I'll give you more!" she grinned at him the same way a princess would to her chivalrous knight who saved her. The since he couldn't talk, silence took over them - It wasn't an uncomfortable one, per se, but it made it feel as if the conversation was over. "W-Well...I'll guess I'll see you around! Take care and I hope to see you again soon!" she waved cutely, trying to turn around back to her camp, only to feel a rough hand on her shoulder, turning her around and urging her to stop and wait for him and he went deep into the forest, leaving her alone and undefended by the potential malevolent forces of the forest.

When he returned, however, he stepped right in front of her, creating the perfect shade as he towered over her - Then he kneeled in front of her, so he would reach her eye sight, then he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and put a beautiful pink flower - As pink as the blush that started creeping on her face - He wanted to see her luminous face better, to highlight her dazzling smile and her glimmering eyes as the warm, silver light of the mother moon caressed her face.

Y/N felt her heart picking up the pace - It was beating so much faster than ever before - But this time, it wasn't out of fear or anything negative...It was something good. Something she never felt in her life, especially with her human acquaintances from back home. None was as chivalrous and gentle with her as this butcher of tormented souls - The bringer of justice, the merciless Executioner who was supposed to end the life of every living being that would cross his path.

It was insane how every Yin finds its Yang, even if that comes in the form of a little lamb of a small, frail girl, and a huge abomination of a brute man who knows nothing but death, bloodshed and carnage. It was truly crazy how opposites attract, and here she was, holding the killers large hands and gingerly putting them on her face, leaning into his touch - She felt safer now than ever in her life - Now, in the arms of an ancient killer.

An Angel and A Demon brought together in a perfect union.

As she leaned down, she touched the metal of the pyramid where she anticipated his forehead would be with her own forehead, and closing her eyes, she finally felt herself calming down. There was no need for words, actions spoke louder than anything, and she appreciated it...She appreciated him.

"Thank you." she whispered to him, knowing that yes, even though nobody else would hear it anyway, it was much more intimate than anything she ever experienced.

She was hooked.

Hope you liked my completely shameless pun, I couldn't stop it, especially after the pain I went through trying to write this...3 freaking times.

Yay.

[imnotusedtobeingloved]

HAPPY IS YOU

(PLEASE DON’T REBLOG!)

Warnings: No longer unrequited love???

Pairing: Zuko x Mai x f!Reader

Characters: Zuko, Mai, King Kuei (mentioned)

Requested: Yes!

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, nor the gif. Credit to the owners.

Summary: A happy ending for Y/N.

A/N: Here it is! This is part three to “happy is her”.

The chatter and the music that rang through the hall did nothing to ease your nerves.

Your eyes flickered back and forth between Zuko, who had his back to you standing at the other end of the hall and Mai, who looked at you expectantly.

“I really... don’t know if that’s such a good idea, Mai.”

Your friend raised a brow.

“What are you scared of?” She asked, while you played with your fingers, lowering your eyes. “Of what he’s going to say... how he’s going to react...” you mumbled and shrugged.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said, folding her arms in front of her chest. “he might not be the exact same Zuko from back then, but he’s not a stranger. Deep down he’s still the goofy, firebending, turtleduck-lover you remember.”

You bit your bottom lip, looking over her shoulder. From across the room you saw him turn, eyes scanning his surroundings. He was clearly searching for Mai to get him out of his misery.

The little crease between his brows disappeared when he spotted your friend, but once his eyes switched to see who she was talking to, they widened.

Your first instinct was to flee, but Mai took a look over her shoulder and grabbed your elbow, before you had any chance to escape.

Zuko navigated through the people in the hall with long strides and the closer he came, the more you realized how tall he had grown. He wore traditional Firenation attire, a swirl od red, black and gold.

“(Y/N),” he spoke, softly. As if he couldn’t believe you were here. “you’ve come back.”

“I’m one of King Kuei’s advisors. He’s gotten sick. I’m here to represent the Earth Kingdom.” You clarified, forcing yourself to get the words out, despite your nerves.

“Ah.” He said, lamely.

Mai rubbed the bridge of her nose.

You had a lot of things to say. A lot of time to make up with either of them, but you found yourself unsure where to start. Seeing them again after all this time was beautiful and terrifying.

Thankfully, Mai was there to rescue you. Like she had so many times before.

“I’m going to leave you two to talk.” She interfered and went.

Zuko eyed you for a moment, before putting a hand at the small of your back, leading you. “Come on. Let us speak outside, where it is calm.”

You nodded and remained silent until you were on the terrace. The laughter and the music followed you out and eventually faded, once he closed the doors behind you.

Your heart beat rapidly against your chest and you did not dare to face him yet. Once a few seconds passed, he put a hand on your shoulder. “(Y/N),” he said, softly. “you’re tense. Am i making you uncomfortable?”

“No. It’s just...” You searched for the right words to come to mind. “I’m trying to figure out how to tell you that i’m sorry. I’m sorry for leaving you. And Mai. And everyone else.”

A small smile pulled at Zuko’s mouth, but a moment later it disappeared.

“Mai missed you, you know?”

“I know. She told me. I heard she’s not the only one who did.”

A little crease formed between the Fire Lord’s brows. “I just didn’t understand why you did it, (Y/N). Why so sudden? Why did you leave without saying goodbye?”

“Mai didn’t tell you about my letter?”

“She did. But she never showed me. She never told me what it was about. Even while you were gone, she took your side.”

“Well...” you mumbled, lowering your eyes. “that was my goodbye. I thought she would explain it to you, since the two of you were... one.”

Zuko shook his head, stepping closer. “And then we weren’t. So, are you going to tell me what really happened? Did someone threaten you?” His features darkened, reminded of the many attempts on his life since he’d stepped up to his position.

“No! No. Never.” You reassured, eyes shooting up to his.

“Then what happened?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Why is that?”

“It is embarrassing.”

“(Y/N),” he took one of your hands in his. They were warm. “We are still friends, are we not? You can still trust me, whatever it is that bothers you.”

You pursed your lips. He looked at you with so much hope, so much kindness. It nearly brought tears to your eyes, realizing how much you had missed. The young prince had grown into an intimidating and respected Fire Lord, heavily involved with all parts of the world as you knew it.

“I left because—” The words got stuck in your throat.

“Because?” He gently urged, golden eyes burning into your soul.

“I left because i was in love with you, okay? I was in love with my best friends boyfriend and it was embarrassing! I couldn’t stay around you any longer, back then. It... i just couldn’t take it anymore. So i left.” You lowered your head in shame, not able to meet his stare any longer.

Zuko was silent.

“Was?” He then said.

“What?”

“You said ‘was’. Does that mean you’re not in love with me any longer?”

“I don’t know.” You bit your bottom lip. There was no denying that the attraction between the two of you hadn’t completely vanished. You knew for a fact that you had been in love with the boy back then, but the question was if that still applied to the man he had become.

“Is there any way to find out?” He asked, nudging your chin with his fingers, to look up at him.

“What are you saying?”

“There is no love in this world, (Y/N), that is embarrassing. It should be cherished. It is true that i loved Mai, but i regret that you had to leave how you did. I wouldn’t have judged you for it.” The corners of his mouth lifted into a beautiful smile.

“Thank you, Zuko. That means a lot to me.”

“I’ve always loved you, (Y/N). Maybe even as more than just a friend, i realize that now. But the young boy back then was too blind to see it,” Zuko was so close, that his chest almost touched yours, his hand still under your chin. “Seeing you tonight has made me recognize a lot of things i didn’t see, before you were gone. I propose, if you’d be willing, we could explore those feelings together, that once were.”

What was the right thing to say in such a situation? Your mouth slightly open and wide-eyed you searched his face for any pointers that this was actually some kind of cruel joke.

He could not be serious, could he?

“(Y/N)?” Zuko pulled you out of your thoughts, his expression turning concerned. “I’ve been too forward haven’t i?”

You swallowed dryly. “You haven’t.”

His features lit up as his eyes flickered over your face. “So you are giving us another chance?”

Hesistantly, you nodded. “I am, if you are.”

Relieved, he chuckled, wrapping his arms around your waist. “I most definetely am,” he leaned down, burying his head where your neck curved into your shoulder. Just like he did when you were small. “i am so glad to have you back, (Y/N). I cannot imagine spending another day without you.”

“I’ll make sure you don’t have to.” You grinned.

Standing on your tiptoes, you could see Mai pass the window over his shoulder, giving you a look that seemed like approval, before she disappeared back into the crowd.

Zuko peeled away slightly, only to tilt his head to capture your lips with his. And with your best friends approval, you kissed back. It was better than you’d imagined it to be. They were soft, molding perfectly into yours, and his satin hair tickled your cheek.

He made sure to leave you breathless.

By the time the two of you pulled apart, your lunges ached for air. Zuko laughed softly, infecting you with his delight, sharing small kisses between your shared joy.

“Promise you’ll never leave again, will you?” He adored you. You could see it in his eyes. It was so undoubtably and genuinly him, that you smiled until your cheeks hurt.

You lifted a hand, softly trailing over the scar on his face, before cupping his cheek.

“I won’t. I promise.”

[agntofhydra]

Sawbones // FIVE

(gif credit) 

summary: Red String of Fate Soulmate AU

Soul mates have a red thread tied to each others pinkies that only one of them can see.

You’re the Resistance’s head medic. You can see the red thread of fate that leads you to your soulmate. Poe doesn’t believe in the soulmate / thread theory. You don’t agree with his tactics, nor does he approve of yours. Leia and Holdo just really want a win.

pairing: poe dameron x reader

rating: mature for later chapters

read me on ao3!

part one. part two. part three. part four. 

read on till the end for notes! 

((the gif if 100% poe’s face in the cafeteria just read you’ll know what i’m saying)) 

SAWBONES 

FIVE // WRONG CONVERSATION

“I’m gonna tell him.”

“You’re not gonna tell him.”

Jasti looked at you bitterly as she stabbed at...whatever was on her metal tray. The two of you were having lunch, or at least trying to. You rarely visited the base’s cafeteria, opting to just grab your meals and go, but you decided socialization might be good for you. Get your mind off things. And it was good, until Poe and a couple pilots from Red squadron walked in and were now sitting two tables behind you, directly in Jasti’s eye line as she sat across from you.

“Tell who what?” Ziff asked as he sat down next to Jasti, accompanied by another engineer whose name you could not remember.

“Doctor,” he nodded to you, and at your hesitation he supplied his name. “D’an Ralac. Blue squad calls me six, ‘cause uh, I’m Blue Six.”

You nodded back at him, still picking at your own food as Jasti seethed across from you,

“Seriously, tell who what?” Ziff tried again.

“Commander Dameron’s soulmate is a fake,” Jasti aggressively shoved her forkful of food into her mouth. Ziff turned to you, eyebrows raised as Race silently began eating his meal.

“There’s no way, he wouldn’t believe it unless he was absolutely sure.”

“Maybe he’s just stupid,” Jasti muttered and you kicked her shin under the table, earning you another bitter stare.

“I don’t see what the big deal is. It’s not like you’re his actual soulmate, right?” Ziff tried to laugh off his question, but voiced his concern subtly when he looked at Jasti and repeated, “Right?”

Jasti’s glowering caused her to completely miss the tone of Ziff’s voice, and you restrained yourself from kicking at her again. Just because your relationship was officially in the compactor does not mean that hers had to be, too.

“She’s overreacting,” you told him, bringing your water to your lips.

“You’re underreacting,” Jasti replied incredulously. “Are you kidding me?”

Your foot met her shin again on its own accord. “Keep your voice down!” you warned her, though you knew the boisterous laughter coming from Poe and his table made it impossible to overhear their conversation.

“There’s something going on you two aren’t saying,” Six spoke.

“We know who his soulmate is,” Jasti’s voice was finally neutral, though the expression on her face was begging you to come clean to the table. “And it’s not that pilot from Coruscant.”

Ziff, in his surprise, slammed his hands on the table. Hard. “Are you kidding? We have to tell him!”

You winced at the sound which, of course , interrupted the laughing from the table two behind you. The newfound silence that befell the cafeteria, coupled with the widening of Jasti’s eyes made your stomach absolutely flip.

“Blue Two,” you cringed when you heard Poe’s voice behind you, “you alright?”

Ziff’s eyes mirrored Jasti’s. “Uh,” he cleared his throat. “Yes, Commander! Impressed with the kitchen staff on how they prepared the fried prog today!”

You eyed the prongs on your fork, noting the durability and sharpness. If you were to stab the utensil into the side of your neck to hit your carotid, or in one of your intercostal spaces to pierce your lung, which would kill you quicker? If you went lung, you’d be dealing with tension pneumothorax, and ultimately would be waiting for the compression on your heart to lead to cardiac arrest. The whole ordeal would take around half an hour, whereas bleeding out of your carotid would take maybe 10 minutes. If you did either, you hoped FX-7 would take pity and let you wither away.

Ziff gave you a wink at what he thought was a great response and you begrudgingly put your fork down. You spared a glance over your shoulder to peek at Poe.

The table directly behind you was empty, allowing you a clear view of Dameron and his crew. Poe was sitting in your same position, and offered you a slight smirk when the two of you made eye contact. You hid your scowl by turning around.

“Y’should give your compliments back there,” Dameron said. “I’m sure they’d appreciate it.”

Ziff nodded immediately. “Yes, Commander.” Maybe you’d stick the fork in his lung.

After a beat of time, Poe’s table returned to their previous conversations and Jasti turned to Ziff. You watched as she flexed her right fist, and you weren’t sure if it was to restrain her arm from jutting her elbow into his side or something else. You hadn’t had time to think about it before she was once again giving you a pleading expression.

You returned a flat look, blinking at her. She took it as reluctant acceptance.

“Y’know how Doc here can see her string, right?” Jasti began, her voice lowered. Six obviously didn’t, but he nodded anyway just to be included. She paused, looking at Ziff pointedly.

He nodded at her again, still maintaining eye contact. “Yes, I was present for that conversation. And?”

Jasti gave him the same blank look until the table could hear the gears in his head finally turn. You were pretty sure that Six had understood right away, judging by the way his lips pursed as he slowly let out the breath he was holding.

“You’re fucking kidding!”

Jasti laughed as she lightly bumped her elbow into Ziff’s side. “That’s what I said!”

You resumed poking at your tray. Unlike Ziff, you were not impressed by the fried porg.

“How long have you known?” He asked.

“Since the day I met you two in the med bay,” you murmured. It sounded way worse when you said it aloud.

“Doc, that’s been weeks. You’ve kept this from Commander Dameron?”

You nodded. “I didn’t think he’d believe me, and I was waiting for the right time. But it never came, and when it almost did I work-zoned him. And then he went and left for stupid Coruscant and met that stupid pilot that I have to do stupid paperwork on. They sent over her file this morning, and I looked at her measurements. I’m a little pissed.”

The table let you rant, this was the most you’d probably talked in one beat and they didn’t want to interrupt. They knew you needed to get it all out.

“So yeah, I fucked up,” you admitted. “And it’s way too late to do anything about it, because the damage has been done and I just need to get over it.”

You heard someone let out a low whistle from behind you and the hairs on your arms stood on end.

“That’s not very Doctor-like of you,” Poe said as he came up behind you and stood at the edge of your table. You reluctantly looked up to meet his gaze. “You’re supposed to fix damage, not cause it, right?”

The taunt was harmless, playful even. But since Poe had been boasting non-stop about his soulmate, and the fact that she’d be here within the coming days left you angry and raw. You felt like an exposed nerve, every touch and breath felt like an assault on your entire being. You’d kept your interactions with Poe at an absolute minimum, keeping him at arm's length. If you felt callow and bare now, imagine how hard it was to restrain it when he was talking to you about her.

“We all make mistakes. Surely you know that, don’t you Dameron?”

He narrowed his eyes, the faint upturn of his lips turning sour. You hated when he looked at you like that, with contempt. Like the thought of you left a bad taste in his mouth. He should be looking at you like he probably looks at her, laughing with you like he did with his table, touching you and putting his fingers in your mouth like he had in your dream.

Dream, you repeat to yourself firmly. You’d be lying if you said that dream wasn’t the only reason you were able to fall asleep most nights.

But this look that he was giving you right now was something that you deserved. Why would he treat you any different, treat you like his soulmate when he didn’t fucking know? He was too busy deluding himself  that his soulmate was on Coruscant, counting the days until she was to arrive on D’Qar when in all actuality it was you, the woman sitting at this stupid metal table berating him, that was his soulmate.

“Maybe I need to come into the medbay for a check up,” he scratched at the scruff on his chin that you definitely had not fixated on these past couple days, “I must need to get a brain scan done since you’re so concerned with these helpful reminders.”

“Door’s always open,” you said with a sweet smile. The two of you held each other’s gaze for another few moments before Poe finally broke it with an eye roll. He nodded at the rest of your table.

“Have a good rest of your lunch, if you can,” Poe withheld his side glance back to you, “Glad you like the porg, Blue Two.”

With that, Poe was finally the one fleeing.

“Stars, you didn’t need to be a bitch to him!” Jasti kicked your shin this time. “Could you dig the hole you’re in any deeper?”

“Probably,” you offered. Jasti let out a groan as she rested her head on her arms on the table. Ziff and Six looked at you, puzzled.

“Don’t know why you did all that,” Six started. “Why further the animosity? Are you hoping for the thread to snap?”

You turned your attention to the green-tinged man to your right. “Can it do that?”

He shrugged, taking a small sip of his blue milk. “I’ve heard rumors, basically myths about it. If a soulmate dies, or gives up on the search, the thread will break. I don’t know if it can by the sheer power of will. You’re on your way to finding out, though.”

You frowned. “I don’t know what I want.”

Jasti threw her crumpled up napkin at your forehead. “You want him! Soulmate or not, that little squabble had some tension of the sexual kind to it.”

“Poe has sexual tension with everything,” you rolled your eyes. “The man reeks of it.” Ziff nodded in agreement and you gave him a weird look. It made you wonder what life looked like under Poe’s command. Especially for someone like Ziff. Six had also mirrored your expression, which made you feel a little bit better. Or worse. You really didn’t know.

Ziff was smart, talented and you were pretty sure he put all of that into being a pilot. He was tall, broad and his sandy blonde hair made many of the women on the base turn their heads. However, he only had eyes for his x-wing. That was, until a few weeks ago when he and Jasti had been side by side in your medbay. Now, Ziff had eyes for Jasti and his x-wing.

“I think you should just tell him,” Six shrugged. “What’s the worst that could happen? He doesn’t believe you?”

“Yes?” you said. “And he humiliates me, discredits my position and authority across the base. How is anyone going to come into my medbay and not look at me like I was another poor girl who made up the soulmate thread to bed Dameron?”

“But you didn’t make it up,” Ziff frowned. “It’s true.”

“How am I supposed to prove that?”

The table fell silent, Jasti Ziff and Six all deep in thought. You gave them a minute, but your patience was wearing thin. You’d been out of the medbay for too long, and FX-7 was sure to let you know that as soon as you got back.

“Thanks guys, but I really can’t do this right now,” you offered them a weak smile. You grabbed your tray as you got up from the table. Jasti opened her mouth to stop you, but fell silent. You dumped your food and placed the tray on the conveyor.

✗ ✗ ✗

As per usual, you were back in your office sorting through the mountains of files on your holopad. Specifically, you were sorting through files for the new incoming pilots from Coruscant. Five, to be exact. Physiologically speaking, they were all perfect. Maybe you’d get lucky when they got here and you’d have to ground one or two for high blood pressure or a heart murmur. You found yourself constantly going back to one file, though. Of the five, two were female. Yet one was human and the other Togruta. You’d heard a tale of one of Poe’s many escapades involving a Togruta woman that had not ended well, so you decided on the human.

Scoria Tane.

Fuck, even her name was pretty. You honestly were dreading her arrival in the coming days. Coruscant had been vague, giving the generals a time frame of arrival for the pilots. D’Qar and Coruscant did have different orbital periods and hours in the day, so you understood why you didn’t know an exact date. It added to your anxiety nonetheless.

In spare moments of time, you found yourself lapsing back to her tab. No photo, just the basic demographics. Although your mind wanted to inch there, you refused to compare her measurements to your own. A dangerous place, that was. A place you didn’t, couldn’t enter.

“Strange to find you here,” soft footsteps preceded the voice. “Do you usually linger here for long periods of time?”

“You’re very funny,” you lifted your head, hoping Leia wouldn’t notice you move Scoria Tane’s file off your screen. The voice in your head said her name like a slur.

“Someone has to be,” she smiled at you, lowering herself into one of the seats across from your desk. “It’s so...tense here. And I think to myself, tense ? In my resistance base?”

“Blasphemy, I agree,” you couldn’t repress your wide smile.

“You wouldn’t happen to know why it’s tense around here, would you, Doctor?”

“I’m afraid not,” you answered honestly. “Pilots haven’t been out in awhile. I’m sure they’re just antsy.”

“You say pilots, as in plural,” Leia raised an eyebrow. You furrowed yours.

“Yes?”

“You’re the funny one now. I happen to think it’s just because of one pilot in particular.”

You powered down your holopad as you placed it back in your drawer. “I’m not sure what you mean?”

Leia gazed at the wall, a soft smile on her face as though she were gazing out a window. Yet, nearly the entire Resistance base on D’Qar was underground so windows were not an option. You liked to assume that’s why they built your medbay so white and...bright. Create an atmosphere of pseudo-sunlight. She continued to gaze for a few more seconds until she returned her attention back to you.

“Your right hand, has it been bothering you, lately?”

“Occasionally,” you admitted. There was no use in hiding anything from Leia.

“I understand why you’ve kept it from him,” she folded her hands in her lap, “but what has it cost you?”

You bit the inside of your cheeks, releasing a deep breath that felt like you’d been holding for days. Leia had opened the floodgates, uncorked the bottle that you’d been stuffing this whole situation into. You felt the air of the room sting your eyes, or was it something else? Ignoring it, you pulled at your right pinky finger on top of your desk.

“Peace of mind,” you answered, then laughed. “My sleep.”

“He was so close to figuring it out,” Leia frowned. “I gave him a push, figured that would be all he would need. I should’ve known better - men almost always need you to spell it out for them.”

“Do you think I’m too late?”

Leia shook her head. “No, but you’ve certainly created yourself quite the challenge.”

Leia was right, reiterating what your friends had told you previously. Not only was it a feat in and of itself just to talk to Poe, but to change his mind? Especially about her, about Scoria Tane? To convince him that he’d been wrong - again? And that your callous words and strained relationship that you’d created with him was only because you were scared, and insecure.

As if she could hear them, Leia interrupted your thoughts.

“He’s more sensible than you think.”

“Respectfully,” you began, “have you been in the same room as the two of us? The way Poe interprets my words and opinions would not justify him as sensible.”

Leia rolled her eyes. “That’s because the two of you are always having the wrong conversation.”

“And what’s the right one?” you pressed.

“You think I would tell you?” Leia smirked at you as she stood. “That would be too easy. You have a couple seconds to figure it out though.”

As soon as you processed her words, Poe was entering your office, the whoosh of the double doors preceding his entrance. His stupid beautiful teeth shone under the fluorescent bulbs when he saw Leia. He regarded her warmly after she winked at you and made her leave.

As much as you repressed, you couldn’t ignore how fucking good Poe looked in his casual clothes. He looked good in anything - but today was just...too much. He was wearing his usual dark pants, loose enough to be comfortable and to move in, but still tight on his ass. He must’ve changed after eating, because the faded baby blue button up he wore with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows was a shirt you hadn’t seen, or at least noticed before. With the way the lightness of his shirt juxtaposed the black of his hair, his stubble, his eyes - you were sure it was new. There’s no way you would’ve missed it before. However, the subtle, almost pleasant softness that befell his features was something you did almost miss, though.

“Hey, Doc,” Poe sat down. You didn’t respond - not verbally, anyway. Your breath was caught in your throat as your eyes focused on the small, gold chain that hung around his neck and low on his chest. Your eyes traced the way it arched over the curve of his collarbones and disappeared past the neckline of his shirt. Poe cleared his throat again and your eyes left his chest to meet his eyes.

“Here for your scan?” you asked nonchalantly as you pulled your holopad back out of the drawer, giving yourself something to fidget with.

He shook his head. “Just wanted to know how the new recruits are looking.”

“All of them, or just one in particular?” you arched one of your eyebrows, your finger hovering over her tab.

He smiled, shrugging. It made you simultaneously want to gag and rip your clothes off. The buttoned collar of your medjacket felt like it was constricting on your airways as you swallowed thickly.

“Can I ask you a question, Dameron?” you gripped the holopad tightly. At your sudden seriousness, Poe rectified his posture and nodded.

“How did you,” you wanted to stab yourself, “How did you know? That it was her?”

You braced yourself, expecting him to lash at you, tell you it was none of your business. But when he didn’t, when he licked his lips slowly as he pondered his answer, it made you wish he would’ve. His response wasn’t one you wanted to hear, but you needed to know his reasoning.

“I can’t see my thread, but in these last few weeks, my finger has been throbbing. I can only imagine it’s tied there,” he rubbed at his left hand and you watched as his movements vibrated the string, causing yours to ache in turn. The thread was taught in the small distance between you, almost daring you to try and cut it.

“So, I just knew whomever it was, they were close. And when I went to Coruscant, and she told me we were connected, I just knew.”

The weight on your chest felt like your ribs were cracking, heart straining to pump your blood that felt like it had congealed in your veins.

“What if,” you tested your voice. “What if it isn’t her?”

“Wow,” Poe scoffed. “You’ve only read her file, you think that gives you a right to pass judgement?”

“No!” you cut him off. “I’m just offering another point of view. Like I always do. I’ve heard the stories, Dameron. I just think you should be carefull.”

Poe rubbed at his hand again. “Do you know how it feels, Doc? To search the whole galaxy, trying to find them? Only to fall short countless times?”

You shook your head. Of course you didn’t. You’d spent almost the entirety of your life on only three planets, and really hadn’t felt the desire to branch out to anymore. With the First Order gaining traction, it’s threat of another galactic war looming, you placed your work first. You always did.

“Can you even see your thread?”

You didn’t respond, eyes holding his as you saw your vision blur. You willed the tears away - not here, not now.

It was evident Poe was waiting for your response, so you swallowed before answering.

“Yes.”

“And you’ve never been curious to know who was on the other end? Never wanted to go out and find them?”

“It’s complicated,” you answered, eyes falling on his finger. The knot on his finger was mocking, almost taunting you.

“How is it complicated?” Poe asked. “You either want them or you don’t.”

“I do,” you said through your teeth. “But it’s not that easy, Dameron. You have no idea.”

He leaned towards you, hands on his knees. The length of your thread shortened, and momentarily you wondered what it looked like if the distance was closed.

“So help me understand,” Poe pleaded. “I just,” he stopped. Stewing on his words before he opened his mouth again. “I don’t get you. At all. You’re so hot and cold - mostly cold. We get along, and then we’re at each other's necks. I’m getting tired of this game, Doc. Aren’t you?”

He would make it so easy, you thought. It would be so easy to fall in love with him. You did want it, more than you’ve wanted anything in your life. To walk side by side with him amongst the halls of the base, kiss him before and after flight missions, actually go back to your quarters at night and know that he was there. Stars, you wanted nothing more than to have Poe Dameron in your bed, waiting on you. You wondered if he ever entertained the thought of you two together, maybe as soulmates or maybe not. Has Poe ever wanted you like you wanted him in this moment?

The thought scared you, the possibility that he hadn’t kept you silent. He closed his eyes, shaking his head as he sighed. Poe stood up, looking at you dejectedly.

“I am tired - “ you began quickly, not wanting him to leave. He paused, waiting to hear you out before the base rumbled with the force and scream of aircrafts entering the atmosphere.

Poe’s face lit up.

“We can make up later,” he smiled. “She’s here.”

- 

and the plot thickens. i hope you enjoyed - how excited are we to meet these new pilots?? as always, love & feedback is appreciated and encouraged. xoxoxo. also, ziff = himbo. i do not makes the rules. but we love him. 

TAGLIST (send a message / ask to be added!) 

@yayrainday​ @samhollandssweaters​ @softly-sad​ @rebelgeneraldameron​ @btillys​ @daydreamerinadazedworld​ @teaofpeach​ @iamthe-shadow-on-the-wall​ @fandom-addict-aesthetics​ @peterwandaparker​ @bookaholicinwonderland​ @roserrys @clydesducktape​ @heythere-mel​ @justrunamok​ @corrupt-fvcker​ @lets-do-get-help​

(please please send an ask or message to be added! it’s getting a little hard to check every chapter’s replies so i dont miss anyone! & if i did miss you, i’m so sorry please lmk). 

[dahniwitchoflight]

KH: The Foreteller’s Animal Masks

This is half fun facts / half theory but basically it’s a list of which Sins/Foretellers are associated with which animals AND where the inspirations for the animal associations came from, since there’s actually a few different sources!

The first would be the Ancrene Wisse, which was a sort of field guidebook for Anchoresses (Female Abbesses/Monks/Nuns basically) containing rules of conduct and behavior 

https://www.hermitary.com/articles/ancrene.html

This goes into many things that honestly have cool thematic ties with symbolism for stuff in Kingdom Hearts, which I could honestly make a whole post in it’s own for tbh, but for here were focusing on one passage:

“The wilderness is the solitary life of the anchoress's dwelling, for just as in the wilderness there are all the wild beasts, and they will not endure men coming near but flee when they hear them, so should anchorites, above all other women, be wild in this way, and then they will be desirable, above other women, to Our Lord. 

In this wilderness are many evil beasts: the lion of pride, the snake of poisonous envy, the unicorn of anger, the bear of dead sloth, the fox of covetousness, the sow of gluttony, the scorpion with the tail of stinging lechery, that is, lust.”

So, we start out with a nice base for some of the Sin/Foretellers:

Ira - Wrath - Unicorn - Unicornis

Avaritia - Greed - Fox - Vulpes

Acedia - Sloth - Bear - Ursus

Invidia - Envy - Snake - Anguis

but then wait, here Gula/Gluttony is a Sow, a Pig, but in KH it’s a Leopard

As well as recently in KH, they’ve made it clear that Luxu/Luxuria is a Goat, not a Scorpion (As cool as a Scorpion would have been for Luxu’s emblem, but a bit too on the nose I suppose haha)

Well, interestingly enough, did you know that back when the 7 deadly sins was actually more like the 8 Evil Things once? And that they were also grouped into a Trio of their own? 

(Despair as Tristitia being the 8th one, because it’s essentially the sin of falling to sorrow/sadness or giving up, of blinding yourself to other’s troubles and causing sorrow in return or being too sorrowful to act, later it was folded into Sloth as a lack of diligence) 

But the 3 Major sin groupings was essentially the three Reasons that people would sin the deadly sins

Incontinence: Doing wrong because they couldn't help it. Or sinning from a lack of moderation or self-control.

Violence: Doing wrong because of anger, revenge or retaliation. Or sinning from by trying to force your will externally

Fraud/Corruption: Doing wrong on purpose in order to hurt other's. Or sinning from betrayal, lies and manipulation. 

These three things form a sort of Unholy Trinity in opposition with the Divine trinity of Father-Son-Holy Spirit

And, very famously, Dante’s Inferno links these three groupings to three creatures from a famous bible verse describing the destruction of humanity via it's own nature:

Jeremiah 5:6 - “Therefore a lion from the forest shall slay them, and a wolf from the desert shall destroy them. A leopard is watching against their cities, every one who goes out of them shall be torn in pieces because their transgressions are many, their apostasies are great.”

A Lion, A Leopard and A Wolf.

Now based on Dante’s actual writing which grouping with which animal and which sins is often debated, but usually it’s roughly as follows:

Leopard of Incontinence: Gluttony, Greed, Luxuria (from Immoderation, Extravagance, Wastefulness)

Lion of Violence: Wrath, Pride (from Murder, Suicide, Squandering, Blasphemy)

Wolf of Fraud/Corruption: Envy, Sloth, Sorrow/Despair (Tristitia) (from Corruption, Thievery, Falsifier, Betrayal) (yeah... old timey people did indeed view what was essentially depression as a “willful” sin aka something people did on purpose to hurt themselves, like they drown in their sorrows willingly because of a refusal to heal themselves or as a willing corruption of their soul, nowadays if it existed would definitely be thought of a Leopard sin I’d think)

So here it’s very easy to see where Leopardos and Gula get tied together, because in KH the sin of Gluttony is lifted above the other’s in the group, which makes sense because being gluttonous for money is greed, being gluttonous for luxuries was Luxuria (or sex for lust)

And here also, the Sin of Pride/Superbia is again associated with the Lion as it is in the Ancrene Wisse (though it’s also associated with Wrath strongly as well, so no wonder MoM chose Ira to be the next leader after he was gone)

So in all likelihood, this means that the symbol of the Master of Masters is most likely a Lion of Pride, Superbia (and if he had his own union, it might be something like Leo or Panthera) 

But honestly the biggest thing that definitely makes MoM the Lion of Pride is the passage in the Ancrene Wisse that elaborates upon the Lion of Pride, describing it as having “many cubs”:

“But the author continues the animal analogies, enumerating a classification of the sins. "The lion of pride has very many cubs," he states, and enumerates them: vainglory, indignation, hypocrisy, presumption, disobedience, loquacity, blasphemy, impatience, contumacy, contention, "airs and graces." “

Reminds me of both MoM’s many apprentices or Master Xehanort’s collection in the organization

Though the REAL reason is also because did you know when KH was still being thought of and designed, Nomura actually wanted to make Sora a Half-Lion Chainsaw Wielder and we all know Sora is secretly the MoM right lol

But anyway, that explains Gula being a Leopard

So then where did all this talk of Luxu being a Goat come from?

Well one reason could be that later on as the deadly sins got solidified as just the seven of them, and as their meanings changed from umbrella terms to more specific sins, their animal interpretations also started to differ:

Avarice/Greed = Toad/Frog 

Invidia/Envy = Snake

Ira/Wrath = Lion

Acedia/Sloth = Snail

Gula/Gluttony = Pig

Luxuria/Lust = Goat

Superbia/Pride = Peacock

Also Ira with a Lion mask would be cool but can you imagine a Snail Aced or a Froggy Ava? lol

But it IS Cool to think that these “Modernized” animals could then become the emblems of the Union Leaders that inherited Ava’s legacy, since they are the newer versions of those Unions, obviously there’s no one to Inherit MoM’s legacy

But you could easily think of Ventus as the “Traitor” aka the scapeGoated 6th for the new group, leaving Frogs, Snakes, Lions, Snails and Pigs for the other five 

(I wonder who I’d put with who... Ephemer, Skuld, Lauriam, Strelitzia and Brain... the only sin associated with Death would be Wrath (As Suicide) and the “Ira” position appears to be the one who inherits the leader, and it’s theorized Strelitzia was the circled name supposed to get the Book of Prophecies

So Strelitzia = Lion/Wrath

Ephemer and Ava always seemed to be the closest and he was the one who seemed to inherit her Legacy the most so he can get Frogs/Greed

Brain is similar to Gula in how they calmly investigate issues and try to uncover the truth and got extra information than the others, so Pigs/Gluttony for him

Lauriam was the poster boy for temptation into darkness, which is what Darkness was intended when his sister Strelitzia was killed, for him to be the first to fall to rage and grief, nice Aced parallel as the one everyone suspected of falling to darkness first so he gets Snails/Sloth, fitting for the flower elemental lol

and that leave Skuld and Invi which also makes sense as the parallel for the person who tries to intervene in conflicts and mediate for the group, so Skuld gets Snake/Envy

Neat!

But anyway back to Luxu, I think Luxu is represented by the Goat not just because of the above modern listings, but also because of the special place of evil that Christian religions tend to place on Goat itself

If the Lamb is the most common symbol of Jesus Christ, the Goat has always been a symbol of the Evil of Lucifer. Sheep and Goats, despite being so similar, have always been seen as this symbolic duo. Sheep and Lambs being submissive, complacent, docile, while Goats are crazy, willful, destructive and etc likely because since they are so close in nature, they are basically seen as the Good and Evil version of the same animal, a Goat is essentially a heretical false Lamb

They are very commonly associated with the Devil/Lucifer himself and goats have always gotten the short end of stick, all the way back to the old tradition of using goats as well, scape-goats literally. The practice of singling out a particular creature or person and placing all the sin and blame onto it, and then driving it away

Luxu is singled out from the group, likely given the role of “Traitor” amongst the six of them and then is forced into essentially exile to the future by MoM where he can do nothing but watch and wait, never able to interfere or meddle with anything

And this reasoning of the Goat fits Luxu above all others.

So there we have it, finally at the end:

Ira/Wrath - Unicorn/Unicornis

Avaritia/Greed - Fox/Vulpes

Acedia/Sloth - Bear/Ursus

Invidia/Envy - Snake/Anguis

Gula/Gluttony - Leopard/Leopardus

and if Luxu and MoM had union names, (which seem to be just be taken from the genus of the animal directly) they’d likely be:

Luxuria/Lust - Goat/Caprini

Superbia/Pride - Lion/Panthera

But I think the Most Interesting Thing to glean from all of this, is going back to the 3 Groupings for the 8 evil things, can you imagine if KH ever decides to give MoM a little backstory, and a figure based on the Wolf of Fraud/Corruption, emblem of Despair came into the picture somewhere?

Something that might look a little like this?

Hey that’s interesting, isn’t this the special secret boss Dark Hide from Aqua’s Fragmentary Passage? Y’know, that journey all about Aqua falling into the pits of Despair where she then ends up fighting The First Real Pureblood Heartless she ever faces in the Realm of Darkness? Something that Aqua felt was Willfully and Intentionally Stalking her through the depths, instead of mindlessly attacking her?

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JQGONhqs0mU

Isn’t that interesting how all of things, they give this boss the opportunity for the player to see through it’s eyes, something very unique, and how it initially appears as a formless Darkness

And isn’t Darkness itself, given a will and a personality, now a figure in KHUX Dark Road, that has specific ties to the MoM, as Luxu describes as being a fellow student and/or old friend of MoM?

Could the Will of Despair manifested from darkness come to be a secret 8th apprentice of MoM?

Who knows, but it’s interesting how that symbolism lines up isn’t it?

[dragonrajafanfiction]

The Trieste Venture but with the MC added (Part One)

How the Trieste adventure should have gone in the game.

"They ...... they're coming!" Lu Mingfei said hoarsely.

You and Chu Zihang looked out from the observation window below. Scarlet water mist gushed out of the ruined ground. The dragon blood flowing from it rushed up, and from the cracks in the ground crawled slender living creatures, their bodies glowing with a metallic sheen, their pupils a hideous gold. Because they had slumbered so long, they couldn’t swim up yet. They creeped on the sea bed, crawling, wriggling their slender lower body. But after being nourished by the dragon's blood, their bodies immediately regained the strength of the ancient era. As they crawled they sprang up, swinging their long tails to float upwards rapidly. They passed by the side of the Trieste, but did not cast even a glance at the metal object with the lights on. Their eyes were on the endless darkness above. Hundreds and thousands of them finally broke free from the seal of bondage and were about to return to the human world.

"Snake tail people. Mermaids." Chu Zihang said softly, "This is not a pureblood dragon species. They were also human-dragon hybrids. This is not the city of the dragon race, it was built by the ancestors of the hybrids!"

"It's like a dragon ascending to heaven." Lu Mingfei murmured.

In the upper view, countless slender shadows were striving to swing their long tails, and the lava illuminated their bodies as they came together like golden whirlpools.

"When they rise all the way to the surface, this will get tricky. If even one of things were captured by the media, tomorrow every newspaper in the world will make it a headline." Caesar said, "But it's not our business anymore. Leave it to those Japanese. It's time for their support team to come into play. Our job is just to level the place. Whether it's the Lenin, the Embryo or Takamagahara. The very existence of such things is trouble."

"The deep-sea walking suits can only support five minutes at most." Chu Zihang said, "I'll have the Trieste lowered a bit."

"That's enough time." Caesar squeezed himself into the pressurized compartment on the side of the cockpit, swiveled around and snapped the 10 meter thick hatch shut.

Outside is an incredibly ultra-high pressure environment, and Caesar couldn’t use a diving suit without being crushed. So instead he was in another robotic submersible made of thick metal, spherical and pressurized. But even with this, his time is quite limited. Caesar gripped the operating handle of the metal arm firmly and blew into the microphone in the helmet: "Chu Zihang, try the communication device."

"I can hear you very clearly here, can you hear me?" Chu Zihang tapped the microphone in the cockpit.

"The call works well," Caesar paused, "Aren't you also a proud man?"

Chu Zihang froze.

"It's just that you're proud in a different way than I am." Caesar added, "Although you're uncomfortable when you're proud, if you weren't proud, you wouldn't deserve to be seen as an opponent by me at all. Those old guys in my family want to target you, but that matter has nothing to do with me. Don't think I would use those kinds of underhanded tactics against you. If it's my death and your life, just keep living so proudly … don't be defeated by the bastards I despise."

You’re not sure what they’re referring to exactly so you ask Zihang directly. “You were targeted by Caesar’s family?”

“It’s a long story.” Chu Zihang muttered, still focused on the device.

“MC! You’re not crying! That’s a good sign!” Caesar’s teasing voice came through in your ears.

You scowl at the monitor. “I never cry for any of my friends.”

“You do it when you sleep.”

Your jaw clenched and your hands balled into fists.

Lu Mingfei audibly gasped. If his head swiveled on his neck any faster, it might snap. “No way! You two… No way!”

“Nothing happened between us!” You growl at Lu Mingfei, before turning back to the image of Caesar in the monitor. “Why are you listening outside my bedroom, you creep? I’ll try not to cry for you then. I should be out there. You’re responsible for your own death.” You didn’t mean to speak so bitterly. But you never really had time to mourn, so your grief rapidly progressed from shock to denial to anger. But Caesar only chuckled, amused to get a rise out of you even at a time like this.

　　The moment the pressurized nozzle spewed out the zeppelin gear, Chu Zihang saw Caesar in the gear put his hand into the spherical helmet and gave him a thumbs up, not knowing it meant "victory".

Caesar slowly descended in the water, occasionally brushing by newborn mermaids. The ruin was like a gateway to Hell. Now that door to the underworld is open, the souls are desperate to escape. The mermaids are no longer in their right mind, but they still retain their beastly instincts, as if all of them have a premonition of destruction, and they are desperately fleeing from this desperate situation, not attacking anything along the way. Caesar couldn't figure out how the guardians could have sensed that Takamagahara would be destroyed by a nuclear explosion. That’s obviously not something they would be able to do.

Some of these long-dead hybrid species were intact, others were mutilated. Their preservation was similar to the mummification process but used more powerful alchemical techniques that sealed their vitality in immortal bodies. Some of them were missing half of their heads, others had pierced abdominal cavities, seemingly the remains left after a brutal battlefield, which the alchemists of the ancient world used as raw material. Caesar thought of the battlefield carvings he had seen on a birdhouse, as if that battle had really happened in history, and perhaps it was what finally destroyed the city.

In the light of gas mines and lava, the nuclear powerhouse that would be used to blow up the ruin and the Lenin were in clear view. The narrow nuclear powerhouse pitched in a pile of lung snails not far from the Lenin, millions of them writhing beside it. Caesar dropped into the pile of lung snails, and the tiny creatures were steadily dislodging themselves from the Lenin, hitting the zeppelin suit with a dull thud. Struggling to maneuver his awkward prosthetic limbs back to a standing position, Caesar trudged through the pile of lung snails, inching closer to the nuclear powerhouse. The currents were too chaotic for him to float forward, so he didn't dare release the lead weight on his zeppelin rig, and had to stick to the seabed like this, somewhere between walking and crawling. There was a constant stream of mermaids passing above his head. How many of them had been revived, a few thousand or tens of thousands? Caesar could not count them. In this underworld at the height of the day countless undead were buried underground. These mermaid hybrids seem to have directly inherited the civilization of the dragon, completely unlike humans.

The Zeppelin suit is already working over-capacity -- the pressure is overloaded, the output is overloaded, and the lighting inside the helmet keeps flashing out. If not protected by the ultra-high-pressure saline inside the suit, Caesar would have been bleeding internally, but the ultra-high-pressure saline also made his eyes bloodshot and made it difficult to breathe. He had eyes only for the nuclear powerhouse less than ten meters away, but to crawl through ten meters in the waist-deep pile of lung snails, he gradually wondered if he could do it.

His vision was getting blurry. The effects of high pressure are the most obvious on vision. The target in his sight began to appear ghostly. He started to feel a severe headache. His metal prosthetic limbs were slipping in the pile of lung snails, as if he was struggling in a mudslide and could be swallowed up at any moment.

Caesar closed his eyes and released the Scythe Itachi. Few people know that his hearing ability is not an aid. It’s a sixth sense even more effective than vision. The scythes hovered and danced in the sea, and Caesar was surprised to find the field expanded to an unprecedented extent. The sea was an excellent conductor of sound, and the loss of sonic transmission was less than in the air. Caesar could now see that the ancient buildings that had collapsed had thousands of black bells hanging from them. In the days when Takamagahara stood on the earth, the wind must have drowned the whole city in bells.

But in the sea, the bells emitted sound is beyond the range of normal human hearing ultra-low frequency. If he had not released the scythe then Caesar would not have been able to hear this magical music. Heavy ancient ultra-low frequency sound with the sea current through the ruins, Caesar immersed in the ancient music, imagining that the Takamagahara was on dry land. Thousands of bells were turning in the wind, and the tide of sound was ebbing and flowing in the city, tidal wave after tidal wave. He had never "heard" such a vast city.

"Come in, Caesar! Come in, Caesar! Answer! Answer!" Chu yelled.

Three minutes after ejecting from the deep submersible, Caesar lay in a pile of lung snails. His last action was to cling to a pile of lung snails, and from the camera inside his helmet, look at the pleasant smile remaining on his face.

No answer. Life monitoring equipment showed that he still has a heartbeat, but he had completely lost consciousness. You turn your eyes from the monitor. You can’t bear to look. Renata… Anton… Vera…

Did you have to watch Caesar die too?

Chu Zihang muted the microphone, took off the headset and handed it to you, staring into your eyes: "Remember, since the nuclear power module is detached, Sumeru can no longer monitor the data of its  operation, underwater communication must rely on the cable."

You refuse to accept it. “What are you doing? You’re not going to go out there and die too, are you? Caesar said we all have to stay here!”

"What do you mean? I don't understand!" Lu Mingfei shook his head in bewilderment.

Chu Zihang doesn’t respond to you but presses the device into your hand. "It means that if you don't tell Gen-kun about what’s happening, he doesn't know if the nuclear power module has been ignited again. If I fail to bring Caesar back, you tell Gen-kun that the ignition has been successful, but not that you cannot recover me and Caesar, so that he can recover you immediately. Gen-kun cannot verify the result of the ignition, he can only choose to bring you back. If he knows you’re still here and the nuclear module is not ignited, he will ask one of you to stay in the deep submersible and the other to get out of the cabin." 

“Zihang, let me go out there. H-hey!”

Chu Zihang put the headset on your head, "Don't say too much, and don't argue with me out of embarrassment. Just like Caesar does not want to sacrifice himself to save you and me out of the cabin, Chisei’s pride does not allow him to drive us out of the cabin."

You pull the headset off. “This is bullshit! Did you hear anything I said before to Caesar? Why aren’t you listening to me?”

"My pride also does not allow me to let a lower grade out of the cabin." Chu Zihang ignored the headset you held out, "If we don't make it back, you're the leader of the dive team."

“Isn’t Lu Mingfei my senior?” Your gaze shifts from Chu Zihang to Lu Mingfei.

Lu Mingfei sat limp on the chair, eyes innocent like a small raccoon, and you realize that Chu Zihang was right. Never once had you ever seen Lu Mingfei ever fend for himself in a pinch. He always seemed lost with the eyes of a small raccoon. If anything happened to Chu Zihang and you, Lu Mingfei would be fish bait.

The Dark-haired senior turned to Lu Mingfei. "Answer me sincerely, are you still unable to forget Nono?"

“Huh?” You asked.

Lu Mingfei lowered his head: "Yes, but I can't do anything about it, I just try not to think about it."

"If you're the only one of the three of us to escape, don't feel guilty about it. It's not your fault that Caesar and I had an accident. Try again to see if you can impress Nono. I always think she's actually a very weak girl inside. Losing Caesar will be very sad, right?" Chu Zihang walked towards the pressurized cabin, "You still have a goal to achieve, unlike me, I have nothing to aim for."

Your eyes returned to Lu Mingfei with a brand new sense of disgust. Was he seriously lusting after Caesar’s fiancée, planning to take his place at her side now that he’s going to die? If you knew that was the case, then you would have been happy to let Lu Mingfei out there to get eaten by lung snails!

"Brother, did you like the little dragon lady?" Lu Mingfei asked in a numb voice.

"So you call her the Little Dragon Lady?" He turned to you and said, “I know there’s a lot you don’t understand, but you will in time. Thank you for caring for him.”  Chu Zihang snapped the door of the pressure chamber shut behind him.

When Lu Mingfei turns to look at you, he doesn’t even react to the deep despising look you’re giving him. He just sighs. 

“You’re an asshole.” You snarl at him, biting the words out.

“I know…” He grumbles. “You don’t have to tell me.

[calitraditionalism]

Arc Three: Chapter Thirteen

(AO3 counterpart here.)

The five witnesses glanced at each other, unsure. Darkpelt, Redheart and Mistface stood together, with Darkpelt taking the lead. Her tail danced about merrily and her ears were perked. It looked a little like she had spotted particularly fat prey and was preparing to catch it.

“So,” she said, “this whole StarClan thing, right? Real puzzle, isn’t it?”

Mistface gave her a very dry look (though he wasn’t bothering to hide his smile). Redheart’s eyes rolled skyward for just a heartbeat.

“Seems a difficult thing,” Darkpelt went on. “We’ll have to consider our options carefully when we approach this topic.”

“What options?” Beetlefoot said. “All we can do is run.”

“Incorrect!” Darkpelt’s grin broadened. “As you all may have guessed, I’ve been doing some real hard thinking on this particular topic, and just now broached my newest theory to our deputy and…” She turned towards Mistface. “I’m trying to find a nice way to call you ‘smarter than your assumed looks would imply’.”

“Get to the point, Darkpelt,” Mistface said. “Now ain’t the time for jokes.”

“That is true, at least.” Darkpelt shook her head in self-admonishment and returned her attention to her audience. “Anyway, my theory posits as such: the false StarClan eats souls, as we all know. This would imply it needs a way to sustain itself. Which-“ She leaned a little forward. “-implies further that it is, in some form, alive. And if it’s alive, it can be killed.”

Greyleaf stared at her. For perhaps the first time since meeting Redheart in the waking world, his heart leapt with a sudden excitement. His mind immediately was working furiously away at this idea, many thoughts shouting over each other with plans and what information he’d collected over the years.

"You think that's possible?" Flyfang's eyes were wide.

"I'm quite certain it is," Darkpelt said. "Anything can die. What makes this so different?"

“I-“ Laurelclaw shuffled his feet, halfway between nervous and eager. “Well, I would like to think so, but how does something like that die?"

“That’s the puzzle part,” Darkpelt said. “It’s not going to die like a cat. It’s not built like us. It relies on souls and belief to get anything done.”

Littlepaw’s ears perked. “Belief?”

“Belief,” Darkpelt repeated. “That’s the key. It’s a mental game. This thing’s power is all in the mind.”

A realization hit Greyleaf in a full-force tackle. He stood up, tail straight out and bushy. “It’s a psychic monster. It relies on your thoughts and beliefs to be effective.”

“Therefore-“ Darkpelt almost wiggled in excitement. “Therefore, if there’s a way to take it on, it’ll be all in our heads.”

“Take it on?” Beetlefoot repeated, looking bewildered.

“We don’t need to flee from it.” Darkpelt’s paws kneaded at the ground. “We need to figure out how to attack it within itself – within our minds, in our sleep, perhaps.”

Greyleaf couldn’t help a rush of adrenaline in his blood himself that made him want to jump up and down. “It can take a dead soul and it can lie to us, but that’s all it can do. There’s a weakness somewhere that we can find just in a dream.”

“Yes!” Darkpelt nodded fervently at him. “Precisely!”

Mistface spoke now. “Thing is that we ain’t seers, and even seers don’t got the power to force StarClan to meet them wherever or whenever they like. So we gotta march up to its den and make it acknowledge us.” He looked at Redheart. “Which is how we’ve made a new plan.”

“The plan so far – young as it is – is this.” Redheart’s voice was level, but there was an intensity behind it that belied her excitement. “We want to head north and get to the Lighthouse. That place is the most direct link to StarClan – it will have to respond to us there. Once there, if everyone who comes with us dreams at once, we stand much more of a chance of defeating it through what means are possible.”

Darkpelt flicked a paw in Mistface’s general direction. “Your theory so far, my lad?”

Mistface, of the three, was the only one talking like he was conversing the weather. He tilted his head, eyes contemplative. “Just a theory, mind, but Redheart explained to me a little of what this thing is like. Nightmarish.” He looked almost sadly at Greyleaf. “Can’t even imagine it in my head without a little panic.”

Greyleaf offered a weak smile in return.

Mistface breathed in slowly and continued. “But what I gathered is that this thing’s just as much land as it is a monster. It shows seers landscapes same as it does ghosts. That can’t all be simple illusions – it ain’t that original. My guess is that, if we are to destroy it, we gotta approach it like we’re destroying a forest or a field.”

“How do we do that?” Flyfang asked. She was halfway to eagerness, but she still sounded hesitant. “We can’t just claw it to death.”

Mistface smiled lazily at her. “We’ll just have to get creative, won’t we?”

“That ‘we’, by the way,” Darkpelt added, “refers to whoever wants to come with us. I’m putting my paw in on this plan, and so are Redheart and Mistface. You all are free to leave, and maybe you should. I won’t lie and say we’re guaranteed to stay sane and in good health on this quest, but-“

“I’m in,” Greyleaf said.

Mistface beamed.

“Don’t know why I even pretended to ask you.” Darkpelt’s laugh was like her elation had filled her and had nowhere to go but forcibly out. “That’s four. Warriors, your thoughts?”

“Think carefully,” Redheart said. “You’ll be traveling with me and Greyleaf, and we’re both wanted. Even besides StarClan and whatever risks we face with it, you could be arrested for assisting us and trying to escape the Territory.”

“Doesn’t matter to me,” Flyfang said. “I’m coming with. As if there’s another option.”

Laurelclaw nodded at Flyfang. “Same for me. You- you might need a little muscle anyway, if someone tries to stop us.”

“Look at you actually offering to fight,” Beetlefoot said wryly. “We’ll probably need it.”

“Then you’re with us?” Mistface asked him.

Beetlefoot nodded as well - curtly, but with a spark in his eyes. “Any way I can help, I will. This is too important to decline.”

Littlepaw jumped to her feet. “I’m coming too!”

Every adult looked her way. Greyleaf could see on their faces that they’d all completely forgotten the apprentice. He had too, to be fair, but it was still a little funny.

Redheart frowned a little, tone careful. “Littlepaw, I can honor your enthusiasm, but I don’t think we can keep you with us from this point on. It’s been dangerous enough for you just in these past couple of days. The leaders will be looking for us-“

Littlepaw shook her head violently. “Let them. I’m not quitting here.”

“Littlepaw-“ started Flyfang.

“You’re going!” Littlepaw looked at her, outraged. “And the only reason you’re not my mentor is because we didn’t do the ceremony! You can’t just leave me behind!”

Laurelclaw tried next. “It’s dangerous for all of us, nevermind you, you know? We don’t know what StarClan can do to us. I mean, I’m sure it’ll tell everyone to chase us down if it catches wind of what we’re doing. We just don’t want you to get in trouble with us.” He cowed a little when Littlepaw glared at him. “Legal or physical, I mean.”

“He’s not wrong,” Darkpelt said. “Heading straight into the wasp’s nest may have some dire consequences for us, if we get there before the Clan gets us. We have absolutely no idea of how much it can hurt us until and when we get to the Lighthouse.”

Littlepaw stood as tall as her tiny stature would allow, tail lashing and eyes fiery and determined. “You don’t get it. I have just as much stake in this as you do. Not because of my family and my own life.” She paused, swallowed, and continued, a little shakier and angrier at the same time. “I helped propagate the lie of StarClan. I helped this thing deceive everyone. It deceived me! I bought into its crap and I told everyone what it told me, and they bought into its crap too. You can’t just send me home and expect me to forget everything I’ve learned, and everything I’ve helped it do.”

“No one blames you for being fooled,” Redheart said soothingly. “That isn’t your fault.”

“But it’s going to be my fault if I don’t do something about it,” Littlepaw countered. She gave everyone a defiant, fiery stare that was so uncharacteristic on her pretty face that Greyleaf almost wanted to draw back a little in alarm. “So you can take me with you or I can follow you the whole way to the Lighthouse, no matter how hard you try to drive me off. Either way, I’m part of this, and I don’t care what I need to do to help stop StarClan, with or without your approval.”

There was a silence. The adults now looked at each other, silently debating back and forth. Greyleaf regarded Littlepaw with sympathy. He understood her fear of that helpless frustration at being put aside and forced to do nothing with this horrible knowledge in her head.

“Let her come with us,” he said. “It’s only fair.”

“Getting an apprentice in trouble with the leaders, though…” Laurelclaw said anxiously.

“It’s her choice.” Greyleaf nodded to Littlepaw. “And I can’t make her live with what she knows and be unable to do anything about it.”

Mistface hummed. “She is right. We ain’t her mentor. Or her mother, for that matter. Let her do what she wants.”

Redheart had her head down, eyes narrowed in thought. She looked up again after a moment and said to Littlepaw, “My caveat is this: we can make Flyfang your mentor right now, and she will have the final say in what you do. If she says no, then you go home.”

Flyfang and Littlepaw blinked in surprise, looked at each other, and then smiled at the same time.

“Sounds fair to me,” Flyfang said. “Littlepaw?”

“Let’s do it,” Littlepaw said. “And don’t disappoint me.”

Flyfang poorly restrained a chuckle and looked at everyone else for confirmation. Without a word, the rest of the cats stood and moved to allow Flyfang, Littlepaw and Redheart some space. Greyleaf was grateful for how oddly light-feeling the moment was.

Redheart took a step forward, completely clear of Mistface and Darkpelt, and raised her voice a little, enough for it to be heard clearly in the thick woods.

“The apprentice before us has reached a turning point in her life,” she began. “She has chosen to leave behind the path of seerhood and turn to warriorhood. We honor her decision with this ceremony. Littlepaw, as an approved deputy of the Clan, I thank you for your service as a seer-in-training and change your status to warrior-in-training.” She looked warmly at Flyfang. “Flyfang, you have already taken charge of Littlepaw’s education and protection these past months. You will be her official mentor from here to her graduation and naming ceremony. I ask you to pass on your skills as a fighter and hunter to her.”

Flyfang and Littlepaw faced each other and touched noses. Greyleaf could see excitement and nervousness fluffing Littlepaw’s fur. He waited, not sure whether to hope for Flyfang’s approval or Littlepaw’s dismissal. From the tension in the air, everyone else was thinking the same thing.

“And with that…” Redheart’s eyes turned serious again. “Flyfang, it’s your call. Will she come with us?”

Flyfang looked down at Littlepaw, a flurry of emotions passing through her face. Littlepaw’s tail trembled a little.

After what felt like an eternity, Flyfang said to Redheart, “She will.”

Littlepaw bounced twice before catching herself and standing stiff and serious. Greyleaf couldn’t help a sigh of relief, odd thing though it was to be relieved about. The other adults relaxed and exchanged looks again, some worried, some optimistic.

“Then that’s that.” Redheart smiled at Littlepaw. “Your mentor has the final word.”

“Not that it would have made a difference,” Beetlefoot muttered. “She was going to follow us.”

“But now I don’t have to,” Littlepaw said, grinning. “So when do we head north?”

“Preferably as soon as possible,” Darkpelt said. “We’re losing cats daily. We ought to put a stop to this swiftly as we can.”

“We leave as soon as we’ve eaten,” Redheart said.

Everyone brightened at this. Greyleaf could feel the same thrill he had in his heart from the others. Having this plan – even the slimmest spider-silk of hope – it felt like having a reason to live. As the group of renegades started chatting to each other about possible trails and ideas, Greyleaf and Mistface simultaneously got up and met each other halfway.

“We’re savin’ Mama,” Mistface said, quiet enough for only Greyleaf to hear him. “She ain’t goin’ to that thing.”

Greyleaf nodded firmly. “It’ll have to get us first.”

Mistface’s features were calm, but Greyleaf could see, deep in his green eyes, a steadily burning determination. Greyleaf smiled grimly, feeling that determination roaring away in his own heart.

Hang on a little longer, Mama, he thought, hoping it could reach her somehow.

Just a little bit longer.

We’re coming for it.

You’ll be safe soon.

[whumping-to-conclusions]

So I lost the ask where I received this prompt, but it was from @ironwhumper359. She had given multiple options, but I decided on 14 +28!

14. cottage, 28. poisoned blade

This is another installment in my whump fics centering around Pyotr, a Kvani man from the world of a Victorian-equivalent supernatural detective novel I'm working on. I'll be making a masterlist soon, but you can find my first Pyotr fic here.

Enjoy!

CW: Burn scar, fever, past whumper (assassin) reappearing, poison, restrained with ropes, gunshot, character death (from gunshot)

Pyotr stepped into the cottage, shaking off his rain-soaked coat and hanging it on a hook by the door. This should be a safe enough place to spend the night. Shining his oil lantern around the place, he saw that it was small, but blessedly dry. Large windows gave a view of the woods surrounding the house, darkened by the rainstorm, and a small cuckoo clock made a gentle tick-tock, tick-tock in the background. A wooden rocking chair sat in front of the hearth. It was draped in colorful quilts and, upon closer inspection, exquisitely carved with flowers and vines.

Stepping into the adjacent room, the golden ring of light from his lantern shone on a bed--a real bed!--piled with more quilts. Oil paintings hung on the walls, and white stone vases on the windowsills held dried flowers. This place would be the first real comfort he’d seen in weeks.

Glancing around the cottage, the place looked abandoned--the bedsheets were rumpled, but the fireplace in the main room was ashy and cold. Probably sometime in the past week, since not much dust had collected anywhere yet. The poor soul who owned this cottage must have gone off and died in the woods. Bear attack, maybe. Pyotr had heard there were bears in this part of the country.

One night here couldn’t hurt. He hadn’t seen Briar in weeks, since he’d given her that terrible burn back in the hotel. There wasn’t any way she would find him now, especially now that he was tucked away in the woods like this, right?

Pyotr strode over to the hearth and struck the flint and steel he kept in his pack, setting the ashy logs ablaze. As the flames crackled to life, he crouched and warmed his hands in front of the fire, feeling the molten heat glow on his rain-drenched skin. Gods above, that felt good. He straightened up, stripped down to his wool drawers, and curled up in the rocking chair, wrapping the quilt around his soaked, freezing body. He watched the flames for a while. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. The cuckoo clock made a rhythmic, soporific beat in Pyotr’s ears. How warm it was here… how lovely it would be to rest….

A shadow passed in his periphery. Pyotr’s eyes snapped open and he slowly rose from the chair, letting the quilt fall onto the ground.

“Thought I couldn’t find you here, didn’t you?”

The rough burr of Briar’s voice still sent a chill of dread down Pyotr’s spine. He’d heard it in his dreams, every night since their first encounter.

“I told you I wouldn’t rest until you were dead. I’m not the kind to give up. I’m not the kind to flee, unlike a certain man that I know. Deserter.” She spat out the last word like a curse.

Pyotr didn’t dare move, even as he heard Briar step closer. “Kill me,” he rasped. “What are you waiting for? Put your knife in my heart. I’ve got nowhere to go.”

“That would be far too quick for you, deserter. You left the Styx, and I want you to suffer for what you did to me.” Briar stepped in front of him. In the dying firelight, the twisted burn on her cheek was a livid scarlet. “I killed the little old woman who lived here, you know,” Briar crooned, her lips curling into a smirk. “She’s buried in the garden, being eaten by the insects and birds she loved so dearly. Funny, isn’t it? How we’re all eaten eventually?”

Pyotr couldn’t stop his breath from hitching. What was Briar going to do to him? Burn him? Torture him?

Pyotr raised his fist to punch Briar in the ribs, but Briar was prepared. She slugged Pyotr in the gut and twisted his arm behind his back. Pyotr howled in pain as he felt something in his arm pop.

A few minutes later, Pyotr was tied up in the rocking chair, hands bound tightly together. Briar crouched beside him and raised a knife. Its cruel, curved edge glistened a strange green in the firelight, like it had been dipped in….

“That’s right,” Briar whispered. “Poison. I’ve been saving it for this moment. You’ll be in pain for hours until you finally drop dead.”

Fear burned with cold fuel in the pit of Pyotr’s stomach. Though he clamped his mouth shut tight and closed his eyes, he could not stop his limbs from shaking as he waited for the slash to come. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. The sound of the cuckoo clock was the slow, hard beats of Pyotr’s heart, pulsing in his heaving chest.

There it was―a sharp, efficient slit in the crook of his arm, a viper’s bite. Pyotr grunted as he felt a drop of warm blood roll down his arm.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. How long until the poison took effect? How long until he started to shiver and scream as it made its course through his body?

A few moments passed before the pain began. A dull, aching throb in his arm that spread as the minutes went by. Soon, his whole body hurt. Pyotr tried to move into a more comfortable position, but he was bound so tightly to the chair that he could barely move a muscle. All he could do was sit, enduring the ache in his bones, breathing deeply and trying not to groan, trying not to let Briar know how much pain he was in. At some point, the shivering started. Then the sweating. Even as he had resolved to stay strong, the ache worsened until he couldn’t help but cry out. Sweat trickled down his temple and dripped onto his clavicle.

“Doesn’t feel good, does it, deserter?” Briar said. “Imagine how I felt after you stuck that poker in my cheek. That took weeks to heal.”

Pyotr could only whimper in response.

As the hours went by, the cottage echoed with his screams, but Pyotr found no relief. His body was an enemy, a trap that he could not escape. Briar watched on, occasionally whispering gloating comments in Pyotr’s ear.

“No one is coming for you, Pyotr,” Briar crooned at some point. “Your friends are long-gone. They think you’re dead, left in a snowy grove with your chest split open.”

“Someone will come for me,” Pyotr panted. His mouth was dry, his skin pulsing with heat. “If not them, then someone else.” The words were achingly naïve, he knew, and he wasn’t even sure what “friends” Briar was talking about, but saying them brought him comfort, however small, something to cling to.

Briar gave a long, slow smile, saying nothing.

Pyotr lost track of the time he spent in that dark cottage. Briar had closed the curtains over the windows, so no daylight found its way into that foul place, letting Pyotr know that morning had come.

At some point in this feverish haze, Pyotr heard the door crash open. He lifted his head as Briar rose from his side and stepped towards the door. No sooner had he heard the shink of a dagger being drawn before a gunshot cracked the air, making Pyotr jump.

Briar’s body thudded to the floor not three feet away from him, a trickle of blood trailing from her mouth, eyes open and glassy, her knife clattering to the ground.

A pause, before a low, feminine voice broke the silence. “...is she dead?”

A tall man knelt beside her and pressed two fingers to Briar’s throat. “Yes. She’s gone.”

The floorboards creaked as someone knelt down in front of him. A woman―sable-skinned, with a tumble of dark braids and a tattoo of a rattlesnake coiling around her shoulder. Something about her seemed familiar, but he couldn’t place it. The room was spinning.

“Pyotr,” she said. Another wave of pain racked Pyotr’s body and he cried out.

“Pyotr, are you okay?” She reached out and felt his burning forehead with a cool, slender hand. “Pyotr, answer me!”

More voices rang out in the cottage. “Pyotr! Pyotr!” So someone had come for him after all.

Their voices chased him into the dark.

[365days365movies]

April 8, 2021: Swiss Army Man (2016) (Recap: Part One)

Don’t think about the Boy who Lived.

Daniel Radcliffe is a talented actor with a wider range than he’s given credit for. He’s been working since childhood, and has picked up quite a lot over time. While most famous for...a certain role that will go unnamed...he famously started his stage career in 2007 with the musical Equus, and that later progressed to How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead, and Endgame.

Meanwhile, he also made appearances of television in varied roles, live-action and animated. He started his career in an adaptation of David Copperfield in 1999, voiced a character on The Simpsons three separate times, hosted Saturday Night Live in 2012, and also currently has an excellent role in the anthology series Miracle Workers.

And MEANWHILE, he also had quite the robust film career, especially after...the role which shall not be named. There were a few films made during that time period, like December Boys and The Woman in Black, but most of his time was understandably taken up, as was his public image. That, of course, ends in 2011. The first time I saw him in a role outside he who shall not be named was in the film Kill Your Darlings, about the collegiate career and romance in the life of famous gay poet Allen Ginsburg. It was very good!

The same year, 2013, he starred in Horns, a unique fantasy film that I considered watching for Fantasy March. His film career would be full of ups (The F Word, Trainwreck, Lost in London) and downs (Victor Frankenstein, Now You See Me 2, Playmobil: the Movie oh God REALLY JESUS). And right in the middle of those came one of his most famous weird roles. And that’s today’s focus. And I’ve been wanting to watch it for YEARS. And while we’re talking about him, let’s talk about this film’s other star: Paul Dano.

Dano’s career also began young, and in the opposite way to Radcliffe’s: in theatre first. After a stint on Broadway at the age of 12 (GODDAMN) in Inherit the Wind, as well as several other productions, he transitioned to film in 2000, around the same time that Radcliffe started as well. Eventually, he gained acclaim with his role in Little Miss Sunshine, and then...anybody else in the mood for a milkshake right about now?

Yeah, I haven’t seen that movie, but I really should this year. Consider it on my list...at some point. I’ll figure it out. Anyway, Dano’s role in There Will Be Blood only increased his acclaim, and found him acting in a number of indie films. Dano’s definitely not a blockbuster guy, but that’s not to say that he completely avoids them either. He’s been in Knight and Day, Cowboys and Aliens, and Looper, which all fall under that category. And except for the last one...they aren’t especially good, either. 

But again, he was also in 12 Years a Slave, Okja, Wildlife, Where the Wild Things Are, and Meek’s Cutoff, and all of those were critically acclaimed, and some almost reached blockbuster status themselves. So I don’t really know how to feel about his upcoming role as...the Riddler.

Yeah, we’ll see, but I’m holding my breath. Dano’s great, and I love the Riddler, but...I dunno. Like I said, we’ll see. But in the meantime, that’s enough navel-gazing. Let’s watch Swiss Army Man! SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap (1/2)

We begin at sea. If you have thalassophobia, this is already terrifying for you. After seeing many plastics floating on the ocean, covered in written messages, we make our way to a deserted island, where Hank Thompson (Paul Dano) is committing suicide after being stranded there for so long.

However, as he does, he spies someone lying on the beach. The rope snaps, and Hank runs over to greet the body, hoping that he isn’t dead. Unfortunately, after a very loud burst of flatulence, it’s pretty damn clear that this is a dead body. And yes, this is Daniel Radcliffe, but I’ll introduce him formerly when the time comes.

Hank’s sad that the guy isn’t alive, but still speaks to him about his hopes and dreams in the past. He’d always wanted a life of parties and friends and love, and imagined that he’d see that kind of life in a flash before he died. Instead, he only saw the body, who responds with yet another fart. But with that, Hank goes back to trying to hang himself. 

And as he does...the body keeps interrupting with its INSANE gas. Like, it’s so bad that the body keeps shaking as if it were alive. The body washes into the sea, and its flatulence begins to propel it away from the shore. Hank sees this, and he uses the humming he was doing to make the Intro Song, which is strangely mesmerizing? Like, literally soundtrack-worthy, I’m not kidding. He also grabs a piece of his noose, uses it to grab onto the body, and rides it as the farts propel them both far away from the beach. It’s absolutely absurd...and kind of great. And then the titles play.

Hank wakes up on the short of a different island, or possible a larger land mass, and is overjoyed by the change in scenery. He shouts his name to the world, and credits the body with his rescue. No longer stranded in the Pacific, as far as we know, he tries to use his phone, to no avail. He decides to head out and look for help, grabbing a bag of Cheetos that washed up alongside them, bids the body farewell...and then comes back for it.

Carrying the farting body on his back (and kind of treating him as if he’s alive), he wanders through the forest to find help. He wonders if the gas is the result of decomposition (likely, if excessive), or if its the body’s soul leaving it. Either way, the trudge forward. They settle in a cave for the night, as it rains heavily outside. As Hank is want to do, he hums to himself, and shares more of his personal life with the body, as he sings to it. And yeah, I’ve been linking to these songs, because the soundtrack is genuinely fascinating to me.

Morning comes, and Hank awakes to a raccoon prying at the body, which he subsequently chases for food. In his desperation for food and water, he’s once again about to leave the body in the cave, but notices it leaking copious amounts of water from its mouth, which it had collected from the cave walls overnight. And yes...he drinks it. Which is absolutely disgusting when you think about it, which I now choose NOT to.

In the process, Hank squeezes the body for more water, and air escapes his mouth in such a way that it sounds like it’s speaking a name: Manny (Daniel Radcliffe). From that, Hank gets the body to speak his name and a simple greeting, but grows frustrated from the inability of the body to speak properly. This leads to him being a bit abusive towards him, reminding him unfavorably of his own father. Ooh, character revelations, me like.

Anyway, he apologizes to Manny for treating him that way...and Manny responds. Which FREAKS HANK THE FUCK OUT, understandably, and he punches Manny and flees the cave. As he comes back, Manny is indeed speaking outright, which is either a miracle or Hank just straight-up hallucinating. Either way, Hank asks Manny to try and remember his past life, but all he can get is the vague recollection of the Jurassic Park theme song. But Manny can’t remember the movie itself, which is when Hank says the most correct line ever said in all of film.

You’re goddamn right. Anyway, from, there, Hank tries to teach Manny about the ways of the world, and the nature of life and death. And the resulting conversation is absolutely fuckin’ ridiculous, and I love it all. Through the process, Manny learns about the world, and Hank asks him to help get home.

In the process, Manny inadvertently insults Hank, causing to walk off and once again look for help, only to eat poison berries and throw up for a sec. The two reunite, and their conversation turns to the topic of sex. See, there are some magazines in the cave that they’re in, which prompts some questions about women, sex, and love. To both of their surprise, this conversation causes Manny’s heart to beat! Spurred on, Hank continues, and Manny’s heart appears to reawaken...as does his penis. That’s a link to the soundtrack, I promise.

Hank and Manny both freak out, as his little Manny seems to have a mind (and motility) of its own. But in the ever absurd nature of this movie’s premise, this too has a secondary function: it’s a compass. Yup. And that prompts the next step of their journey, which is full of a conversation about fetishes and masturbation. Yeah, Hank’s surprised about that, too.

This leads to a conversation about his parents, as well as somewhat traumatic parts of his childhood, including his mother’s premature death. This makes Hank upset, and he lashes out at Manny, who briefly returns to being dead until Hank apologizes. As they go on, however, they encounter another denizen of the forest: a bear. This causes the two to fall off a cliff, and causes Hank’s phone to fall out of his pocket and turn on, allowing Manny to see the picture of a girl on his background.

Manny’s enraptured by the picture, and constantly asks to see her again, as Hank continues to struggle for food. The problem is that Hank needs to conserve the power on the phone, but Manny asks if Hank can dress up as the girl in order to help him remember, and bring him back to life to help save them both. He does so reluctantly, but Manny calls him beautiful, to which Hank reacts positively. This not only helps Manny come to life a little more, but also leads Hank to shave to look more convincing for Manny...and possibly for Hank, too.

As these two engage on a fake date and create a fake bus (while Manny listens to a fake self-sung cover of Cotton Eye Joe that I’m putting on my playlist), this is a good time to mention the one thing I know about this movie...maybe. I don’t quite remember where I heard this, but I have heard that this film is possibly a commentary on the transgender experience, or at the very least that Hank is transgender, but hasn’t come to terms with that as of yet. Now, I don’t know if that’s true or not, but I have heard that, and I’m definitely interested to see if that’s the direction this goes. This scene definitely seems to somewhat confirm this theory. Also, I will say (as I have said before when watching The Danish Girl), I’m a straight dude of the cissexual sort, so this is in NO WAY in my wheelhouse, but I still figured I’d mention it.

We’re also at the halfway point now, so this would seem like a good time to pause for Part 2! See you there!

[likesomekindofcheese]

Promised: Part One (The Great mini-series)

Pairing: Grigor Dymov x fem!Reader

Word Count: 2,878

 From this Anon Request:  ahhh im so happy that you'll write for grigor, gwil seems to be under hyped these days. can i request grigor having to be in an arranged marriage because peter somehow fucked up another treaty and the only way of fixing it is through an alliance (we can just ignore grigor being married already)

A/N: Of course! I hope you are okay with it being a fem! Reader. If not, just let me know and I’ll write a neutral version!

Anyways, enjoy the first part of this mini series of Peter being...Peter and you are Grigor getting into an arranged marriage to fix it up!

“This wine tastes like shit, where’s the vodka?”

The bread roll you had been chewing on nearly fell out of your mouth in surprise. This was the man you had been expecting for weeks. The Lord and Sovereign of all of Russia. The son of Peter the Great, a legendary warrior king beloved by all who knew him. He even shared a name with this godly figure.

The second he announced his arrival sent everyone in your house into a giddy panic. The manor was cleaned inside out. Every butler and maid lined up outside for his entrance in their most pressed uniforms. Your family and you had put on your finest garbs as well. You had even bought a new dress for the occasion, a pink silk gown with white cloth down the sleeves, and a white middle part while long bows decorated your cream stomacher.

Every soul in the manor was there when his carriage arrived to greet and curtsy to him and his friend, tour the house, and serve him a meal featuring the best cuts, foods, and drinks available, some of which were gifts from the locals honoring his appearance.

And he just called your finest vintage wine shit.

Every pulse in your house was heard in that moment. Your mother gasped a little at the sound of such language used at the table. Especially from him.

“We…we have whiskey to be served after, it’s stronger” you suggest meekly.

“I suppose, just something stronger than this,” his companion next to him reasoned.

He was a man who was perhaps in his thirties at most, brown hair barely seen beneath his dusty wig and in a dark green jacket, only a few steps below Peter’s finery. He swirled the glass with his large hands and took polite sips of it. You looked for a reaction to the taste and barely saw one.

“You want the emperor to drink shit wine, then!? What kind of hosts are you?” Peter asked, leaning back in his chair.

He was far more relaxed than the sea of straight backs of everyone at your table. He even tossed the glass over his shoulder.

KKKK!

A servant behind rushed up with a broom to sweep up the bits.

Your mother and father looked at each other questioningly.  Your brother normally had a healthy appetite, but his fork paused in mid-air since the wine complaint.

With a little sigh, your father turned to a butler and asked him to retrieve a bottle of whiskey and to look for any spare vodka at once.

Looking at your brother, the sanguine chatterbox, you saw his face had paled and his jaw was still tight. Looks like it would have to be you then to alter the mood and keep the peace.

Turning to the Emperor’s companion on Peter’s right, you began to shyly greet him “Sir...uhm…I’m sorry, I forgot your last name…”

“Dymov,” he answered kindly.

His eyes softened. At least he seemed less of an unpredictable bull as his friend.

“Sir Dymov, what is the weather like in Russia? Is it as cold as everyone says?” you questioned.

“Oh, yes, very! Some winters have crowds of people wearing fur coats indoors and gathered around the fire,” he explained.

Peter cut in, chewing on the meat with an open mouth as if he were a cow in a field, “which is why we need to drink vodka to stay warm. Speaking of which, where is your butler and why the fuck hasn’t the vodka gotten here yet?!”

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Later that evening, there was some parlor entertainment as usual. Coffee, whiskey, and vodka were all served and seemed to be drank in generous amounts.

It began with you showing your musical gifts. You were to sing as your father accompanied you on the pianoforte. Your breath was feeling higher than what was needed for healthy singing. You could not help but gape at the two Russians who seemed to analyze you. They were hard not to ignore since they were both astoundingly tall, Peter only barely taller. Sir Dymov listened attentively, hands leaning against him as he and the emperor were offered the softest chairs.

But Peter was somehow enraptured. He looked right at you and was still, listening to it the whole time.

You noticed his eyes were not on your face. And your pink dress was as modest as your mothers.

Forcing yourself back into the music, you picked a spot in the parlor, near a bookshelf, and stared at it, trying to focus on the music and words. Lose yourself in its brief escape.

There was polite applause following. When you curtsied, you put a protective hand over your chest.

Your brother, more inclined to the world of theater, offered a reading of some texts by the finest playwrights of your land. Everyone listened to him as they settled for cards at a table, but you stood a while to focus on your knitting. Nerves had shot through you and you had to do something with your hands that would calm you more than cards with the boorish guest.

“May I sit here, Miss Y/L/N?” Sir Dymov asked to the spot next to yours.

“Yes, you may…” you answered, finishing a row of purl stitches.

As he sat down, he even offered to hold your yarn and straighten any strings.

“Thank you for the dinner, and the reading, and the music and everything, it was nice, far more peaceful than at home! And God knows, I could…we all could use some peace…,” he turned away briefly to keep a small eye on Peter.

“Sir Dymov, why would you need peace? Is it the war with Sweden?” you asked curiously.

His angled face looked oddly dark, despite the glow from the fire.

“No…Just a little bit of personal heartbreak, Lady Y/L/N. And your song was about love, so I was reminded of her.”

“Can you tell me what happened?” you asked

Flinching away, you cursed the impulse. It might be too personal.

“She rejected my marriage offer. She’s uhm, uh…how do I put this politely… she’s Peter’s mistress,” he explained

“Oh.”

“And she said she would not give up her position after our marriage, so she said I could either have to be married to her but share her with Peter or she would not consider my offer at all,” he sighed.

Setting your knitting away, you looked up at him with empathy.

“Sie Dymov, that sounds hard. But I can’t imagine how her saying yes would make anything easier…”

“I do miss her, and she’s in court so I see her still every day,” Dymov complained.

“You’ll find a way through heartbreak. I’ve had some of my own, but something better might happen!” you say, shrugging your shoulders.

Once you set things down and decide to join the card table, you see Peter look up from his cards and scowl.

“You know, this is dull. Where is the louder singing? The wild dancing? The animals? No wonder people die here so much, they become bored!” he spat throwing off his hand onto the table.

“Things here are…a little quiet compared to your mighty empire,” your mother answers with a plastic smile. “But we make do…”

“I’m practically dying of boredom. How the hell was my father friends with you lot?” Peter asked.

Your father’s head ticked to the side, his eyes getting bigger.

“We were friends since our youth, and he loved all of us,” he said, words tinged with a subtle venom.

Your mother cleaned up the cards, and your brother paused his dramatic reading.

“Your highness, we can all retire if you don’t want to play anymore. I think traveling all the way here from your palace must have been exhausting. Is there anything else you need to make your stay here more comfortable before tomorrow?” she asked.

Peter’s eyes glinted up at you. Your body cinched as if ready to fight or flee.

“How about you offer to bring your daughter Y/N to my bedchambers for tonight, that would make me a lot more comfortable!”

Dymov’s jaw dropped. Your father stood up a little to get out of his chair but he was beat. In a flash, your brother slammed his book shut and rushed over, staring the ruler of Russia in the face.

“How dare you treat my sister like one of your whores?! Never!” he yelled.

“It’s my right as your guest?” Peter rebutted with a bizarre calm.

“After we’ve been kind to you? Gave you our best food and wine, housed you in our nicest room?” your brother roared.

You wanted to shrink yet you were frozen. Your father walked to your side and put an arm around you.

“You can have anything you want, but you’re a married man, Peter. My daughter’s dignity is important to me, as is your own wives. I don’t want to insult her as well,” he reasoned.

“Honor? Honor? You all only spit about honor when you live shit lives with shit food and shit company!” Peter argued.

The warmth of your father’s presence left you as he walked forward. Scuttling, your mother stood by you to take your hand in his place.

“Your highness, I knew him like a brother. If Peter the Great was here…” your father warned.

“He isn’t here! And I’m the Emperor now! And he isn’t!” Peter bellowed.

So on. And so on.

You retired early, your mother by your side to escort you as you saw your father and brother arguing back and forth. The only ally Peter had, other than his title, was Dymov holding him back. To protect or stop him, you could not tell.

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The next two days there was such bad blood it was unbelievable. There were no fun outings as planned. You ate alone. You hardly saw anyone. Any room you walked into; you could hear yelling.

Your father made sure you weren’t alone with Peter, but it seemed his eyes had gotten distracted with the fighting. Hopefully, he was joking. Partly.

One night you snuck downstairs to have a glass of water and heard a few words despite yourself.

“That’s it! I leave tomorrow morning! And you can forget my support and all your fucking soldiers, too!”

“Your highness, our money is about to get tight. And our people need it even more than us!”

“Too fucking bad, then!”

Oh no…Russia is our enemy.

You cried yourself to sleep that night. The idea of now starving. And your brother was about to marry a woman he loved in a fortnight. How could he provide for her or any future children? How would all the people who depended on your generosity fare with reduced funds? Worst of all, Peter had his quick moods and ideas. What if he declared war out of spite from this one visit?

You never met Peter the Great. He sometimes seemed like a kindly fairy god father in some ways he had been mentioned. His love of your house and your country and his friendship with your father. Financial support given when needed. How so much was funded and gifted and provided thanks to his generosity.

How could any of you live after that? Even with the embarrassment alone of being insulted by an emperor?

As you woke up, you only had barely time for breakfast when your mother entered.

“Y/N…we would like to talk to you.”

“Mother, I have breakfast. And I was hoping today I’d practice my music and finish that scarf,” you dismissed.

But from the look on her face you had no choice.

“It’s important. And you must be there.”

She walked you over into the main table where days ago everyone dined awkwardly. The Emperor and his companion were there. Peter pouted yet Dymov’s face looked as if he had seen a ghost and his folded hand were shaking a little.

As you sat down in your chair, every eye looked at you, there was a moment of tense silence.

“Well, what is it?” you asked.

“We’ve reached an agreement with Peter…” your father began.

“Are we going to lose…lose everything?” you asked anxiously.

Your heart was tolling in your eardrums as the words left your lips. It had been the question that kept you worried for days.

“No, your family is going to be fine…” Dymov assured, a hand placed over his mouth.

“You can still have some of my father’s money and support from the Russian crown and our fucking alliance even!” Peter threw in, hands going up.

“But…”

“But what?” you said.

“You have to bring half of your army to fight for me, Sweden’s trying to invade us and we need men. And some of your relatives have to swear loyalty to me. But that promise needs to be secured.” Peter continued

“How? We are already sending you soldiers and subjects? What else would do it?” you asked. Although your gut was telling you the answer.

There was a little pause, but quite an evil smile from Peter.

“There has to be a marriage. Your brother’s betrothed. So you’ll have to marry into Russia to secure it!” he revealed.

Blinking, the wind was knocked out as if you had been punched in the stomach.

“Sir, you’re married to…to Sophie! That Austrian girl!” you cried.

“Sophie? She isn’t Sophie anymore; she’s already christened by my church with a new name: she’s Empress Catherine of Russia now. And since she will be your ruler and you will address her as such! Might as well christen and give you a new name too!” he scolded.

“Of course, I mean I will but…but…who do I have to marry? Do you have any…any brothers?” you fret.

Numbness gripped your hands and nausea gripped your stomach at the thought of marrying a copy of Peter.

“I’ve got no brothers, no male relatives of age or alive for you and I want this contract done soon so…”

His head turned to Dymov with a congratulatory pat on the back.

“It’s Grigor here you’ll have to fuck for life in about a month!”

Grigor’s ears turned pink and he looked up at you, lips tight.

And if I say no? you start to wonder, tasting the words.

But what choice did you have?

“Lady Y/L/N, I promise, this isn’t any easier for me either…” he finally said. “I know this arrangement isn’t coming the way you expected…and I’m just as shocked as you are.”

Would you put your family’s and your people’s future down the drain? Would you let them become bankrupt, ruin your father’s memory of his friend, and make enemies with one of the richest, largest, and most powerful countries because of your selfishness?

Besides, no suitors had been calling you, really. None likable or with good intentions at least. You were getting to the age of spinsterdom. You knew you had to be desperate if you wanted any sense of security for yourself or your family. Who knew if another offer like this could be made?

Taking a deep breath, you looked Peter in the eye.

“I will do it. For my family and for everyone who we look after.”

Peter produced a document agreeing to the engagement, marriage, and benefits it brought. You and Dymov signed it.

Afterwards there was a small service in the chapel to pray for the future and for this marriage. But you were half in another world, unaware this was happening. Dymov seemed to flush between being pale or being red.

Immediately later, they decided all was well and to make plans to leave. Before packing, Dymov approached your parents and you in the parlor.

“I have to alert you of something that will happen, when Lady Y/L/N arrives…there will be a test done by the priests to see if she’s, uh, pure…and it involves checking her…” he gestured to his pants.

You let out a shocked gasp. What kind of kingdom were you about to be thrown into?

“I just wanted you to know, so you wouldn’t be shocked,” Dymov added on.

Your mother took your hand again and rubbed your knuckles soothingly.

“We have family physicians here. Trusted friends. They will do the examination and sign a document right before she goes. There will always be a chaperone until the marriage, to make sure everything is by Russia’s standards,’ she insisted, squeezing your hand extra tight.

Before they left the whole family saw off the Russian party. As Dymov turned to you, his blue eyes darkened slightly. He bowed lowest for you and kissed your hand.

“I’ll write to you as much as I can. You can call me Grigor,” he said.

“I guess you can call me Y/F/N…Grigor,” you replied

“Goodbye, Y/F/N. We will see each other…before the wedding. Soon.”

As kind as the gesture was, your brain had not stopped reeling. It remained even as you stood there, watching the carriage trot away. A pair of blue eyes even looking at you sadly from the window.

He seemed to have the same concern

How could you travel to live in another country ruled by someone like Peter?

And how could you love, much less marry, a man you just met?

Taglist: @queenlover05​

The Great Taglist: @stardust-killer-queen​ @itsametaphorgwil​ @freaking-nix​ @im-an-adult-ish​ @grigorlee​ @themficsilike 

[wrestling0neshots]

Courage or Stupidity? - Undertaker

What would you risk for someone who got you to where you are? Are your actions worth the possible consequences?

Requested by Nikkie on AO3 Originally posted on Archive Of Our Own.

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

Tonight you sit at ringside, on a cold metal chair, headset on. The show thus far has been fairly bland for you, and you wonder why you have been booked to sit ringside at all. In terms of commentary you haven't had much to add at all, and it isn't like the two beside you have been making much of an effort to include you.

Things could have been going better, but they could have been going so much worse. The only time you had something to speak about was at the beginning of the show, where during a particularly bland match you had been asked about the women's division, which of course you had something to say about.

It has been your home for six months now, and although you haven't yet had a shot at the title you feel as if one could be coming soon. You just have to keep pushing for it. That conversation had ended as quickly as the match that was being spoken over, and since then other than a word or two your input has been minimal. 

At least you get a good view to study how those with more experience than you move in the ring. Your ears pick up on the conversation beside you, "They said they were coming out here, and we've yet to see them out here."  You perk up at Tazz's words, this is what you have been waiting for. This is what you have been waiting for all night.

After 15 seconds of silence Big Show's theme song begins, you try to hold back your excitement.  You have been following this particular storyline for sometime now, it has been going on for more than a little while, and yet you still haven't found yourself disinterested.

In fact, you have known Vickie for many years, having met her through mutual friends, she had been the one to help you get your job, to give pointers and critiques in order to help you get to where you are today. Without Vickie you wouldn't be in the position you are in.

By the time you have finished reminiscing on your fondness of the greatly disliked woman she is in the ring, standing between Big Show and Chavo. Vickie raises the microphone to her lips before saying her famous two words, "Excuse me" She repeats herself, but the crowd doesn't silence. You find yourself shaking your head with her. She ignores the masses, deciding to get straight to the point.

"Where are you, Undertaker? All of us are waiting for you." She smiles smugly, shrugging at the lack of response from the deadman. "You see, I should never have reinstated you to begin with. You physically and mentally obliterated my husband, Edge, You swore. You swore you would never take my soul! You didn't take anything. Let's have a look."

As the segment plays on the titantron you think about the situation that Vickie has put herself in. For months now she has stood up to Undertaker, despite everything that has happened.

You have to give credit where credit is due, she has done very well to keep up the act in front of someone like Undertaker, one of the most feared men in the company. You can't imagine what it would be like to have to stand up to him. "Gosh, Undertaker, are you having second thoughts?" Vickie begins again, "because I still don't see you!" She laughs.

Chavo gets close to her, pulling the microphone away from her, "I don't think this is a good idea. It's not a good idea." He stutters out. Big Show takes the microphone, apparently deciding Chavo's opinion doesn't matter.

"Hold on, hold on. Undertaker, everyone's waiting for you to come out here and save the day." Big Show states. "It's not gonna happen and I'll tell you why. You see The Undertaker's lost his nerve. The Undertaker's been humbled. I crushed The Undertaker's spirit. I broke his jaw and I have destroyed the myth of The Undertaker."

The crowd goes wild as the arena goes dark, a familiar bell toll ringing out. You fold your arms over your chest, waiting to see what Undertaker does. Big Show did do a number on him the other week, for sure, and it did seem as if Undertaker was going to be a no show. But now you realise your assumption was wrong.

The lights come back ,and Chavo is gone. Of course he would be the first to flee. The titantron catches your eye, it shows Chavo being choked by Undertaker. Vickie screams to Big Show to go help her nephew, in the process forgetting about herself.

You blatantly ignore Jim Ross as he begins to cover what he is seeing, taking the headset off as a whole. You lean forwards, watching Chavo get thrown around in the back, Big Show now having disappeared from view.

The camera begins to flicker, your eyes widen. It's a trap. Vickie is defenceless.

Before you can collect your thoughts the lights go off once more. Within seconds they are back on, and sure enough Undertaker stands behind Vickie, who knows for sure he is there. You raise to your feet, mind racing, heart beating as you turn and pick up the chair you were sat on. You fold it in half, making your way to the stairs at the corner of the ring. 

By the time you're through the ropes with the chair Vickie is already done for. She lies on the mat unconscious, Undertaker staring down at her. You stand behind Undertaker, raising the chair above your head as he stands. Before you can swing he turns. 

Despite your silence getting into the ring he somehow knew you were there. You don't move, keeping the chair in place, wanting to hit, but something stops you. The look he is giving you is a dangerous one, but he doesn't move. You begin to lower the chair when Vickie's body catches your eye, she was defenseless.

You bite your lip hard, daring to challenge Undertaker. You find yourself filled with whatever determination and drive that has caused Vickie to keep going for all this time.

You find yourself swinging the metal chair, any hesitation you had before, gone. The impact the chair makes isn't what you were hoping for, Undertaker taking a hold of the chair. He pulls it from your hands, tossing it to the side. Now filled with fear you take a step back. He takes a step forward.

Your back hits the ropes.  His hands land either side of you. You're trapped.

"To know whether you have shown incredible courage or plain stupidity I do not know, but I would advise figuring out where they differ or you just might end up in the same position as your dear General Manager." You say nothing, you do nothing. You don't even dare to breathe until he pushes away from you. 

Once he exits the ring you don't dare look in his direction, instead slowly making your way over to Vickie, who is now being put on a stretcher, her neck secured. It dawns on you just how reckless you were, what danger you were in. You could be on a stretcher right now after taking a tombstone.

But you're not. Why Undertaker spared you this time you do not know. If there is one thing you do know it's that you're glad he did.

[maskydoolovesmasseffect]

Mass Effect Tag

Wellio, I’ve been tagged by @berryshiara. Passing this on to @grummel83

Gunna answer my questions now. Y’all feel free to tell me what you think of these answers. ​

I’m a fan since: 2008. I was just out of high school and still not over KoTOR. I was fresh in the army and got to talking to some other dude fresh to the army about video games. He asked me if I played Mass Effect. I said no. By the next day I just about totally forgot about him, then he suddenly appeared out of nowhere sat in front of me in the chow hall and pulled a copy of ME1 for Xbox 360 out his pocket like he was a magician doing a magic trick (ACU pockets are huge.)

Anyway turns out that guy was a romance option and I must have picked the right dialogue options. I’m still with him, too.

Favorite game of the series:

Mass Effect 2. It seemed like that’s the one where choices mattered most and you really got to know your squaddies. Also MAJOR gameplay improvements over the first game. And that game gave me the most freedom to do basically whatever I wanted and wasnt afraid to give me consequences for it.

MShep or FShep:

FShep. Nothing against MShep, but for me the real Shep is FShep. Can’t beat Jennifer Hale’s voice. 

Earthborn, Colonist, or Spacer:

Colonist. I like having the background of knowing just how dangerous the galaxy can be and how the Alliance can’t be everywhere at once so sometimes you need to manage your best on your own.

Biotics or Tech:

Both.

Paragon or Renegade:

Paragon, mostly. I tried being renegade but some of the actions are just so pointlessly dickish, or even outright unhinged in a way that would make it impossible to believe the Alliance would ever promote Shepard as an officer or even keep her in the Alliance at all, especially in the first game.

That said, there are times where a renegade action is more expedient and practical than a paragon one, like in 2 when you stab a dude in the back to prevent him from repairing an enemy gunship, so even with a paragon playthrough, my Shepard will have no issues taking that opportunity. She’s already seconds away from betraying all those guys anyway.  

Paragon in treatment of others, renegade in combat pragmatism.

Favorite Class:

I play as infiltrator and vanguard.

Infiltrator is great for using a sniping and opening loot, and then for going invisible, and if I remember right AI hacking too. That’s cool and I wish there were more genuine opportunities for stealth.

Nowadays I play as Vanguard in my playthroughs mainly just so my Shepard can be canonically biotic for story reasons. From 2 on when looting no longer needs a special skill and I get to charge around the map. I don’t really care much about using biotics (that’s what the squadies are for) but the movement is super useful (when Shepard actually does the thing instead of just standing out in the open soaking up bullets until the ability decides to actually work.)

Favorite Companion:

Garrus. I like to set him up in sniper positions. When he actually STAYS where I put him instead of running straight up to enemies to try to snipe them at point blank, he’s great.

Also his quips in 2 on are pretty entertaining.

Least Favorite Companion:

Garrus, Oh my god. Go back to the sniper position where I put you. Leave tanking to krogan; you do not have the HP for this.

Also Kaidan in ME1. He can not shoot to save his life - literally.  

My Squad Selection:

For all ME1 playthroughs after my first one, Ashley and Kaidan, just of their comments and because... well... I only have so much time with them.

Apart from that I mainly just pick my team based on who’s likely to have the most interesting commentary on whatever the mission happens to be, squad balance be damned. 

Favorite In-Game Romance:

Garrus X Shepard is my favorite love story. They are just so adorable together and always supportive even when they disagree.

But my cannon romance is Kaidan X Shepard for the drama and angst.

Favorite NPC:

In ME1 there’s this random Turian on Noveria who randomly has like a New York accent and I absolutely adore him. He plays basically no part in the story other than some minor information but he’s just so pleasant to speak to.

“If you need anything, I’ll be here.”

Favorite Antagonist:

Morinth, the Ardat-Yakshi daughter of Samara. Yes, she’s a murderous vampire who will absolutely kill you given the chance... but like, it’s a medical condition. And I really can’t help but feel for ardat-yakshi in general when their only options are to spend their whole lives on the run from justicars out to execute them, or waste their entire 1000 year lifespan imprisoned in a monetary unable to experience the world at all. Yeah, Morinth is evil, but Ardat-Yakshi don’t exactly have a good deal.

Favorite Loyalty Mission:

Grunt’s loyalty mission is the best. I get to help my baby boy, reunite with Wrex, enjoy krogan society being fleshed out, have a kickass battle against a thresher maw, and get a breeding request. It’s nice to have a quest that isn’t about family drama and genuinely gets a happy end.

Favorite Mission:

Despite Citadel DLC requiring everyone to have a deathgrip on an idiot ball, and also basically gloss over some really dark stuff, the whole clone storyline with the whole crew is an absolute ride all the way though, with lots of interesting and unique scenarios, a ton of replay-value, and funny party banter that feels like it came straight out of a Marvel movie.

Favorite DLC:

Again, Citadel DLC. Not only did it come with the story above, it also had all those interactions with past and present crewmates, including a memorial for Thane (finally!), a cool apartment to hang out in, a party, an arcade, and an awesome battle arena. It really added a TON. Also, it’s nice to see Bioware figure out that DLC needs characters - I’m remembering back in the DLC to ME 1 the party never had a single thing to say, no matter what was going on. The fun and wacky Citadel DLC is a far cry from the serious and somewhat dark space opera Mass Effect started as, but as the final DLC capping off the end of the series, it gets to do a silly victory lap (and get the taste of the ending out of our mouths.)

Control, Synthesis, Or Destroy:

No.

Favorite Weapon:

Sniper rifles, whatever I have that’s fast and has high damage output. Also that one pistol that shoots tiny energy grenades. Pew pew.

Yeah I wasn’t really big into the weapons so much. I’m here to get my story on. 

Favorite Place:

The presidium on the Citadel. It bothered me a lot when I couldn’t explore it in the second game. I know it would have been terribly impractical, but as the presidium is just a huge ring, it would have been cool to be able to explore the whole thing, going past all the little park areas, shops, monuments and so on until you loop aaaaall the way back around to where you started. Like, how cool would it be if the ring had a running track? Maybe C-sec  academy trainees would be spotted jogging together along it in formation. And can you imagine grabbing a coffee (I was going to make up a space-related name for Starbucks but it’s already STARbucks...) and taking a nice stroll along the water before finding a nice bench to alien-watch from? Other locations in the game are like great places to explore and do gameplay stuff, but the presidium seems like a nice place to just be.

Favorite Quote:

"Stand in the ashes of a trillion dead souls and ask the ghosts if honor matters. The silence is your answer." - Javik.

This is such a fucking raw damn line. It makes me think a lot about Cerberus. When ME3 wasn’t out yet, I thought maybe the plan was Shepard would at some point choose a side, Alliance for paragons and Cerberus for renegades. It would have been so cool to have morality not merely be good vs evil, but idealism vs that ruthless calculus Garrus mentioned. How fucking raw would it be if Cerberus wasn’t just generically evil for no reason and suddenly indoctrinated but really were embodying that ruthless calculus, determined to defeat the reapers at any and all cost. Maybe Cerberus actions’ were more likely to do terrible things for the sake of ultimate victory, doing whatever it took, whereas the Alliance would be less willing to make the terrible choices and ultimately be less likely to succeed.

Now obviously, that’s not what happened, as it would have required Bioware to basically make two entirely separate games. But that line from Javik makes me think of that concept, and a universe where like Dragon Age party members can approve or disapprove of actions not merely as good or evil but along the lines of their personal values. I think Javik would sit at victory at all cost.

Also that one mission in 2 where some random NPC catches Shepard sneaking around and is all like ‘what are you doing here?’ and Shepard is like ‘What am I doing here? What are you doing here? Get out here before it blows!’ and the guy’s freaking out like WTF and she says ‘RUN!’ then laughs to herself as he flees from an imaginary bomb. Shep you troll. 

The thing I like the least about the entire franchise:

The misogyny and objectification that crept its way in, epically from the second game on. Really didn’t like those ass-shot camera angles, or female characters being slut-shamed in-universe for the clothes the designers made them wear. Yikes. 

But the biggest yikes for me in that regard is actually the reveal in 3 that the prothians guided asari development. That was fine and all, but the part that bothered me was the characters commenting “ooooh, so that’s why asari are so advanced,” as it was ever any kind of mystery before that exact moment. For one thing, asari aren’t really shown as being more advanced than anyone else, apart from having discovered the citadel first, and for second, why wouldn’t asari be advanced? All the way from ME1 it’s established that 1: Asari live for a really long time, and 2: can instant transmit information directly from brain to brain. That means they have long lifetime in which to accumulate knowledge and experience, and also can easily spread and preserve that knowledge without even the need for books. That ALONE should put them ahead. And even with all that, they only barely beat the salarians to discovering the Citadel first. But no one asks for an explanation for why salarians, who live only a few decades and can’t do mental data-transfer, are so advanced. No, only the success of the all-women race needs explaining. It was just one moment but it still bugs me. 

Also the general loss of realism after the second game. First game everyone gets armor, including full-face helmets automatically on in environments that need it. After that, people can apparently just wander the battlefield half-naked and even somehow survive in a total vacuum if they just put a plastic cup (that isn’t even connected to anything) over their mouth and nose. In the first game they at least made up some reasonable-sounding science fiction explanation for things, but after that it’s like F-it everything is just space magic now. 

Oh, and those repetitive unlocking stuff minigames. I use a mod to just skip those. 

[bowieandqueen11]

Underwater / Ben Hanscom Imagine

Request: May I request an Adult Ben Hanscom imagine where the reader, who is married to Ben, is down in the sewer with the Losers and gets pulled under water by Penniwise? Our man Ben needs some reassurance from his wife that she's okay. Fluffyness! 🥰 

@may85 eek thank you darling!! <3

Warning, some swearing!

You wished, with all your heart, that you never had to smell the stench of this place again.

When you all finally arrived into the depths of the sewer, Mike and Bill leading the way as everyone else trailed so slowly, so unsure, behind them, that’s when you finally allowed your heart to sink.

This was real. This was actually happening. You’re no longer thirteen, you no longer have an excuse, a way out, a way to forget this. You either die here, or you die out there. 

The water the gang jumps down into is a turbid brown, the colour of sewage, or as Eddie fondly calls out again,

‘It’s still the same old fucking grey water.’ 

Branches have been blow in by the storm, and you gag a little, pressing your face into your husband’s thick back as he raises his eyebrows, wrapping one arm around your own as the two of you watch a small, glittery pink shoe swirl pass, like a relic from a time long forgotten as it floats by without a ripple.

‘Was that- was that Betty Rip-’

‘Don’t think about it hun’, Ben whispers, his thumb trying to tenderly stroke against the goosebumps that flash painfully against your arm, but his grip is tighter than he realises and he ends up digging in a small welt. The water eddies around them, but not that relaxed way water usually does: harshly, more like mini vortexes. You can hear Richie swear softly in front of you as Eddie bumps into him, loud ‘ah-ah, nope nope nope’s escaping his mouth as a half chewed teddy bear floats by his chest.

‘Come on guys, we need to get out of the water, it’s n-not f-far now.’

‘Is that supposed to reassure us?’, Richie whispers with a sigh, slapping his wet leg up onto the jagged stone mound as Eddie reaches down to help him up, his flashlight bouncing around on his head and illuminating different patches of the water in a shimmering light that reminds you of-

the deadlights.

Cold water is the most efficient thief of heat you know. It takes what it does not need. The water surges around your skin, rising up my leg on one side, making tiny eddies on the other the further you follow your friends. The weight of the water is almost enough to topple you, the temperature a dare, as if you were racing hypothermia with each wade through its murky depths. In front of you, your husband shivered against your arm, the water so cold it stung into his hips and flattened his shirt against him painfully. Every touch stole another part of his heat, leaching away a few more fractions of a degree. It crept up the fabric of his pants, clamping the icy fibres to his already frigid skin. But he kept going, because he knew in doing this, he could save you. And if killing a clown meant your nightmares would end, that you would be safe again, he would take on the universe one monster at a time.

Sensing your hesitation as the two of you finally start approaching the giant wall of rock where Eddie and Richie stand, brushing each other off with grimaced faces, Ben slowly turns around and pulls you slowly to him, wrapping his arms around you. His embrace was warm, and his big, strong arms seemed very protective when wrapped around your shaking body. The world around seemed to melt away as you squeezed him back, not wanting the moment to end. The simple touch sent a wave of butterflies coursing through your veins, their fluttering wings easing the dread that had settled inside you.

‘I can’t do this Ben, not again, not after last time. What I saw-I saw-’

‘You are so brave, sweetheart, but this time, I’m not leaving you alone for a second. Plus,’ he says, elbowing you slightly with the biggest smile he can muster at the moment, ‘if you see the deadlights, I’ll just have to kiss you again to pull you out and back to me.’

‘Ben Hanscom, I swear!’, you mutter with a hoarse laugh, pulling your arms around his neck and burying your head into the curve of his shoulder. You just needed a moment, just one more moment with your husband in your arms, his hands tight against your hips, safe. 

Everything was okay.

Through the darkness behind your head came the glow of two yellow eyes, like sallow lamplight eight feet off the ground, if only Ben’s had been open to see them, and if only Richie and Eddie hadn’t been having a mock fight over who’s married to who’s mother.. They moved with a slight sway, as if the unseen body prowled like a big cat. The monster advanced on them, its physique hardly discernible in the shadowy twilight of the sewer. With each slow movement that belied the speed it was capable of, slime dripped, oozing great globs of phlegm and depositing them with light splashes into the water; it’s skin was gnarled, but crumpled and folded as if in the midst of changing form. Over it's belly lay crusty flaps of concave skin. The beast reeked of raw sewage and rotten fish. A smell that hit your nose with a rancid pang only a few seconds before it had reached the edge of your shoulder, and Ben had drawn himself away from his warm daydreams of you to open his eyes.

In a split second, it had torn you from Ben’s grasp and dragged you down into the depths with it.

Darkness enveloped you. The water closed in around, filling you with a deep dread as you kicked out against it’s knobbly arms and screamed against the claws that dug into your cheek and left bubbling scratches. Red and black splotches danced in front of you as you gave the clown one final desperate kick in the shin, wiggling out of its grasp as a desperate hot wave enveloped you, warming even your frosted toes. Your heart was beating rapidly in panic, the urgency for air was apparent than ever. There weren't red blotches in your field of vision anymore. It was all black. You opened her mouth, gasping for air, fighting until you feel like your head is about to explode. You have to take a breath. So you do. For some reason it doesn’t hurt like you thought it would. You’re not scared anymore, it’s almost peaceful actually. 

You begin to fall, dropping further and further into the darkness until it threatens to swallow you whole.

Ben knows he’s scared when those old fears run through my head, when he hears the taunting laughter of years past, when he was the ‘fat kid’ and punchline of teenage jokes. He knows he’s scared when these bad memories cut loose their chains and invade his confidence, eroding the person he had built since those dark days. 

But this time was so much worse.

The adrenaline flew over his veins like licks of fire, but he couldn’t move a single muscle, not even to scream. The absolute horror completely paralysed him, and the more he thought about losing you, the more he thought each straggling breathe he pulled in as he dipped his head up above the water would be his last. If you died, he was going to die too. He didn’t remember being that scared in his life.

The rest of the group jump in after you with desperate cries, not one of them caring in the smallest bit for their safety as their stomachs and heads hit against the cold with tumultuous crashes and wake Ben from his nightmare, his own head being pulled down by his brain to desperately search for you in the darkness. Even Eddie dipped his legs in, not really swimming to search for you  so much as drowning slowly. Every few strokes he was swallowing the shitty water and within metres he was fully submerged, the light dying out with him.

It took you a few moments to register that there were other shapes, big square blocks floating around in the water with you. Something in the back of your mind seemed to recognise the sandy curls that brushed against your forehead, the callused and raw hands that grabbed at your biceps, every pinprick touch registering a shock to your skin as you allowed yourself to be taken away. You thought, as you see the face of your husband warp in front of you, that angels had finally come to take you away.

As the two of you break out of the water, Ben taking in a massive, gasping breathe, his shouts echo around the cavernous walls as the other’s begin to rise up one by one with shaking cries.

‘She’s here! She’s here, I’ve got her! I’ve got you.’

In that simple moment he wrapped his arms around you and you let your head rest upon his chest. All your thoughts stopped as if your heart took over from your head, your breathe beginning to catch itself as water spluttered up from your lungs and escaped in gasping coughs out of your lips. Next he would squeeze as if he needed to check you were really there with him, really there and really real.

You looked sharply up as he took your hands into his. They felt like sandpaper or perhaps stone, rough and unfinished. It suited him, you thought, looking into his deep eyes, his hands warm in yours as he brought them up to his lips, your nerves tingling at the harsh comfort of contact, your body melting into his hard chest, his heartbeat comforting, if a little rushed for your liking.

‘It’s okay, Ben, I’m okay.’

You pull your head back to look at him, your heart sinking as you reach up with a shaking finger to wipe away the tears that littered down his cheek, his lips twitching as your touch brings more relief than his heart can hold. He is eating you with his eyes, running his hand through your hair, as if he can't quite believe you’re not part of an almost forgotten dream. When he leans down to kiss you, it's sweet, gentle, and it tastes of his salty tears as he laughs against your warm mouth.

‘Hey, what did I say about not leaving you alone ever again? Please, don’t go, don’t go ever again, I couldn’t take it.’

[proxylynn]

Underfell: File Name not Edgy Enough #25

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. ^_^

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

Hell hath no fury like this fish woman. For Undyne's rage casts a near-visible aura of hate as she stormed her way into Hotland. Clad in her special armor, keeping her form from dehydrating, she intimidates those that witness her barreling towards the Lab. With a mighty kick, she almost hurls the doors from their hinges before continuing inside. Knowing all too well where her intended target is. Cameras follow her movements but do little to warn their owner in time. Alphys receives the signal just as the echos of hurried stomps reaches her ears. By the time the doors are thrown open, Alphys has made the scene a little more authentic and hides away her more sketchy items. As one can imagine, the Captain of the Royal Guard is less than pleased to see a human being given treatment instead of having its soul collected.

"U-Undyne...W-W-What a surprise."

"Cut the crap, Alphys. How long have you known about it being in the Underground?! Why wasn't I informed?! And why, in Asgore's name, are you keeping that thing alive?!"

The disgruntled captain points at the unconscious human strapped to a bloody slab with several machines around her. Thick bandages cover the wounds given on-screen, the eerie beeps of the machines that are annoyingly loud in the silence, sticky liquid crimson softly dribbles from the slab edges to a small pool draining on the floor as tubes and wires are placed on vital areas. The scene looks like a medical mess. For what good it does to try, Alphys puts on a straight face and gets professionally cold to defend her work.

"Your Captain of the Guard status does not mean I report to you or have to inform you of anything."

The rage of Undyne only increases.

"What did you say?!"

Alphys adjusts her glasses, snidely flipping Undyne off with her middle finger.

"I am the Royal Scientist. I work under and report directly to the King himself. My rank supersedes yours. And as such, unless it is a matter that requires your assistance, I will inform only those that are needed to be informed. Understood?"

Undyne snarls beneath her helmet. This type of thing wasn't uncommon. She knows that Alphys separates herself when it comes to her work. Undyne does it too but tries not to be so obnoxious. It's moments like this that make her crush a little less on this lizard girl.

"But to answer your question...This human has been living in the Ruins for quite some time. Sans and Papyrus have been monitoring her for me."

The skeletons? Those sneaky bastards! She bet Papyrus was thinking he'd use this to one-up her.

"Why use them and not me?"

"Really? You can't stand the cold and they live there. It's a no brainer."

Good point.

"Okay...But why monitor? The law clearly states that the soul of any human is to be collected. No exceptions!"

Undyne summons a spear and readies to spike the human through the face. That is till Alphys moves over to the human and interacts with one of the machines, making her soul slowly emerge...it's white. This sight has the captain of the guard drop her weapon and remove her helm to ensure her eye was not playing a trick on her. Without her helm, the true visage of the Captain of the Guard is shown. Undyne is a piscine anthropomorphic monster. She has blue scales and a long red hair she keeps in a wild ponytail. Red and blue fins on the sides of her head act like ears, she has no nose to speak of. Her teeth are sharp yellow daggers like a barracuda or shark. She has red eye shadow and has an eye-patch on her left eye. Her good eye has a black vertical pupil and a yellow sclera.

"It's...White? What the hell? It was light blue on TV. I saw it!"

"We all did. And it was purple when I first examined her. This is why I've had her under severance and not executed. This human...It's not like the humans we've encountered or the ones in our texts. She seems to be able to change traits or possesses multiple traits."

"How is that possible? Is that even a thing? Is that a thing humans can do now?"

"I haven't collected enough data to determine that. My current theory is that she may be a random mutation, an evolutionary anomaly of sorts. Though, from the information I have gotten, it seems the humans of now have indeed fully lost their usage of magic."

"I thought those past ones seemed off."

"Yes. The previous humans were lacking in their levels of magic but they still possessed it. This one, however, according to my scans had no magic in her soul prior to coming to the Underground."

Scientist say what?

"Wait...What's that supposed to mean?"

Alphys pulls out what looks to be her cell phone and moves it over the soul, scanning till it beeps. She then shows the results to the Captain.

"There's at least 20% to 30% magic now resonating in her soul. Enough to trigger magic prepubescence."

Undyne snickers at the thought of such a thing and it nearly breaks Alphys's composure.

"You can't be serious."

"I am. I had to stabilize the flux with those patches we give out to teens. It's why she's about 30%."

"Dare I ask...How a non-magic soul suddenly has magic?"

"Not sure. Perhaps it's the nature of such a weak soul to pull magic when it can, however, it can. Be it from the surroundings, food, or contact with other beings of magic. Who's to say? Or her soul could be like a parasite and leeching magic for as of yet unknown reasons. I'm just throwing ideas at this point."

"So...What you're saying is the human is dangerous."

"All humans are dangerous, Undyne. But this one? *scoff* Since being down here her LV hasn't budged from its base level."

The Captain is intrigued.

"Has it not been in a fight?"

"Quite the opposite. There's plenty of telltale signs, not to mention video surveillance, that indicates she's been attacked."

"So the wimp flees? Pathetic."

"Sometimes. Most of the time they endure the fight and find a way to end it without fighting back."

A gruff laugh leaves the fish woman.

"Pacifism? Down here? Now that's a joke."

Alphys checks on a liquid-filled bag that's emptying into the human's veins.

"As dumb as it may be, her strategy is a good thing..."

She increases the dripping.

"By not attacking, she isn't killing anyone. And by not killing anyone, she isn't gaining LV. And you know what that means."

Undyne grins like a hungry barracuda.

"It makes it all the easier to collect the last soul."

Alphys nods and removes her glasses to clean them.

"Still...With the number of unknown variables, I'd have to insist on further study of this soul and not just yet bringing it to the King, even if she dies."

"How come?"

"Like I said, too many unknowns. If Asgore wishes to fuse with the seven souls it would be best to make sure this one doesn't overpower or corrupt his own."

"Hmmm...I guess that's fair. We don't need to waste the human souls and lose the King if we can help it."

"My thoughts exactly."

Alphys puts her glasses back on and steps away from the human.

"Come, Undyne. We must leave now."

Confusion comes to the Captain.

"What? Why? You're really going to leave her unattended?"

Alphys grows colder.

"Do not be so stupid."

Undyne had to bite her tongue hard.

"I never said she'd be alone."

With a simple button press on her phone, the sound of speeding rubber screeches towards them, the door opening seconds later.

"IS IT TIME? SHE'S IN STABLE CONDITION?"

Mettaton skids to a stop with excitement.

"She's stable. And under heavy sedation. You may proceed with the prep work."

Digitized giggling pours from the automaton.

"EXCELLENT. LADIES, IF YOU'LL EXCUSE ME..."

Undyne is ushered out by Alphys before she can question things.

"Um..."

"Don't think about it too much."

"But..."

"As they say...The show must go on. I suggest you stick around and watch what unfolds."

Undyne groans to herself.

"I'll make that spicy ramen that you like."

"...Extra chili flakes?"

"Yep."

"Hot damn!"

With the women gone, Mettaton turns his attention to the human on the slab.

"OH DARLING..."

A compartment opens on his side and he extracts what looks like a kit of some kind.

"WE HAVE SO MUCH WORK TO DO."

[AN HOUR AND A HALF LATER-BEHIND THE LAB]

The wall of the building opens up, a split door allows the heat of Hotland in while the unconscious human carried by the killer robot comes out.

"FINALLY...THE SHOW CAN COMMENCE ONCE AGAIN."

While two of his arms set the human down his other two open a bottle of smelling salts and wave it under her nose, slowly rousing her back to consciousness.

"WAKIE WAKIE, DARLING."

She groans in delirium and sits up. Medical grade sedatives really pack a punch.

"FOCUS DEAR. HOW MANY FINGERS AM I HOLDING UP?"

Mettaton holds up his four arms and each is displaying two fingers. Her head wobbles with dizziness and she rubs the sleep from her eyes.

"Mettaton? *yawn* Why is it so hot?"

Why did she have to be so cute when so messed up?

"I'LL ANSWER YOU IF YOU ANSWER ME."

She shakes her head clear and stares at him for a bit.

"Eight."

He sighs with relief and helps her up before patting her head.

"GOOD. YOU'RE PERFECTLY FINE."

"Not entirely sure that's what I'd call it after the game you made me do. But whatever. Least I ain't dead."

"THERE WE GO. ALWAYS LOOKING ON THE POSITIVE SIDE OF THINGS."

Her senses coming back, she looks at her form and begins growling at the mechanical television star.

"IS SOMETHING THE MATTER?"

"I'm going to ask this as calmly as I can and I want you to be honest...Did you dress me in my sleep?!"

In Mettaton's defense, it's not like he could leave her in her bloody outfit or the medical gown. And to his credit, he made it for her to be both fashionable as well as comfortable in Hotland's arid heat. A black zip back cutout crisscross cami top with MTT emblazoned in red across the chest, waist-high black garter shorts with tiny Mettaton studs along the straps, black ripped footless tights end in knee-high black riding boots that have red MTT zippers, and to add to her annoyance her nails were also painted red. The only normal thing about her was he kept her hair tied in a ponytail but moved it higher up to be more lively than her usual dead weight droop.

"TO BE FAIR, DARLING, YOU WERE A BLOODY MESS AFTER THE SHOW. IT WOULD BE TASTELESS TO HAVE MY CO-STAR CONTINUE IN ANYTHING LESS THAN THE BEST."

She gets flustered.

"That's not the point! You could've waited till I was awake and I would've dressed myself! Instead, you did so while I was vulnerable."

She shudders and looks away from him.

"To think...I started to like you."

An exclamation mark flashes on his screen.

"But it seems you're just as bad as the scum on the surface."

He panics and waves his hands in defense.

"W-WAIT A SECOND, DEAR, IT'S NOT LIKE THAT!"

"Then...Aside from seeing my frail body, do you deny the obvious usage of me as brand advertisement?"

The look she gives him is cold and hurt, making him flinch.

"UM...WELL...I..."

She turns around with her hands on her hips and smirks.

"We're not on camera right now, are we?"

His screen flashes in confusion.

"...NO? NO CAMERAS ARE ACTIVE AT THIS MOMENT. WHY?"

"Heh...Because you're being you right now. The same guy I got to know over the phone. TV you is more cold and sticks to the script, like a soulless machine. This you, the ghost in the shell, this guy I like and willing to work with."

He's caught off guard by that remark.

"UM...WHAT EXACTLY DID YOU MEAN BY THAT?"

"Which part?"

"GHOST IN THE SHELL."

"Oh, that? It's the name of a manga/anime series. The setting is a future where technology is so advanced that it becomes an existential crisis if souls can transfer over to pure machine bodies and if artificial intelligence can gain humanity through cyber-evolution. It's really deep."

"OH."

"It also is a play on the fact you're literally a ghost in a robot shell."

He flinches.

"W-WHAT? I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU'RE..."

"Dude, don't lie. We're not on camera and Alphys already confirmed my suspicions."

He blanks for a moment sighing.

"WELL...BRAVO, DARLING. YOU'VE SOLVED MY GREATEST SECRET."

She shrugs.

"It's no big deal. And don't worry about anyone else knowing, I ain't a snitch."

"SUCH A CLEVER GIRL. I KNEW YOU'D BE PERFECT FOR THIS."

Her arms fold.

"While I was messing with you before, I am pissed about this."

"WHICH PART?"

"This! This isn't my style. It feels weird and shows way too much skin for my liking."

At this rate, he was lucky she couldn't see her reflection or she'd be pissed about how he did her makeup. Red eye-shadow to create a smoky effect on her eyelids. Mascara to make her long lashes even longer. A bold black swoop of liquid eyeliner all the way to the outer corners of her eyes and swept a little up at the end. And the pièce de résistance is the luscious red lipstick to make it all pop.

"BUT, DARLING, YOUR OLD CLOTHES WERE RUINED. BESIDES, WITH HOW THICK THAT FABRIC WAS, YOU'D DIHYDRATE IN MOMENTS OUT HERE. AND NO ONE WANTS A SWEATY DRIED OUT SACK ON SCREEN."

She leers.

"NOT SAYING YOU ARE ONE. MAKING THAT CLEAR HERE."

She sighs.

"I see your point. I ain't happy about it, but I see the reason behind it."

"GOOD."

She checks herself and gets upset.

"My items? Where are my items?!"

"I TOLD YOU, YOUR CLOTHES WERE A MESS AND I CHANGED YOU INTO THIS."

She grabs him.

"Metta, my buddy, I need my gear. My stats are crap without my items. Please tell me you didn't trash them...Please?!"

To understand her panic he checks her.

[Lynsie - LV:1 - HP: 40 ATK: 20 DEF: 11 - Too nice for her own good.]

Her HP increased? How? Her LV hasn't increased. Did she earn EXP in the game and recovery? Wait...The other stats are dangerously weak. Hmmm...This gives him a wicked idea. If his screen could grin it would be wide and twisted.

"OH HEAVENS NO, DARLING. YOUR POSSESSIONS ARE SAFE."

Her eyes light up.

"Sweet! Can I please have them?"

He grabs her waist and scoots her back from him a bit.

"UNFORTUNATELY, I DO NOT HAVE THEM ON ME."

"But...W-Where are they then?"

All four hands point out into the distance.

"YOU CAN HAVE YOUR ITEMS BACK...ONCE YOU MAKE TO THE NEXT FILM SET."

Her jaw drops.

"Dude! Are you freaking serious? Do we see the same stats? Because I'm fairly sure I can get one-shot killed out here."

"RELAX, DARLING..."

"Relax?! Says the guy that literally can't be hurt!"

He waves dismissively.

"AND THEY CALL ME DRAMATIC. LOOK, I CAN'T JUST GIVE YOU THEM BACK NOR CAN I TAKE YOU TO THE NEXT SET. YOU SHOULD KNOW THE REASON WHY."

She glares before pouting in defeat.

"The law requires you to still attempt to 'capture' me."

His screen flashes.

"BINGO! AND TO PROVE THAT I AM FOLLOWING THE LAW WHILE STILL WORKING WITH YOU, YOU WILL BE TELEVISED AS YOU MAKE YOUR WAY THROUGH MY SHOW GAUNTLET."

She looks at him funny.

"TO BE HONEST IT'S JUST NORMAL ENVIRONMENT AND PIPEWORK FOR THE CORE. BUT I DID ADD OBSTACLES AND PUZZLES, SO TECHNICALLY IT COUNTS."

Her funny look grows.

"And you film back there in all that?"

"IT MAKES MORE SENSE WHEN YOU SEE IT."

"I guess."

All four hands slap together in a loud clap.

"GREAT! NOW THAT THAT IS ALL SAID AND DONE, HERE'S THE DEAL. ONCE YOU TURN THAT CORNER AND BEGIN THE TREK, YOU'LL BE BACK ON TV."

"Okay."

"TRY NOT TO BREAK THE FOURTH WALL, WE DON'T NEED VIEWERS KNOWING YOU'VE BEEN HERE LONGER THAN ADVERTISED AND WITH THE HELP OF OTHERS."

"True, very true."

"AND SINCE YOU DON'T HAVE YOUR PHONE..."

"Can I get that back too? I swear I won't make calls."

"OR TEXT?"

"Did you even see my phone? It can't text or take pictures."

"HMMM...I'LL THINK ABOUT IT."

"Please and thank you."

"LIKE I WAS SAYING SINCE YOU DON'T HAVE IT AND MAY NEED HELP UNDERSTANDING A FEW OF THE MORE TRICKIER PUZZLES..."

On hand retreats into his body and pops out with a small clip-like earring that, you guessed it, looks like him.

"ATTACH THIS TO YOUR EAR AND YOU'LL BE ABLE TO HEAR MY MELODIOUS VOICE WHEN I NOTICE YOU'RE NOT PROGRESSING."

"Not that I'm against it, but isn't this cheating?"

He chuckles while bringing her close and clipping it to her right ear.

"DON'T THINK OF IT LIKE THAT. IT'S LIKE YOU SAID, YOU'RE WILLING TO WORK WITH ME AND WE BOTH DON'T WANT YOU DEAD. YOU'LL STILL BE GOING AT THIS ON YOUR OWN, BUT WITH A LITTLE LIFELINE THAT GIVES YOU CLUES AND NOT FULL ANSWERS. NOW DOES THAT SOUND MORE OKAY?"

"FANTASTIC!"

He spins around and shoves her to the ground before retracting his wheel to begin hovering.

"WELL, DARLING, THE NEXT WE MEET I HOPE IT TO BE SOON AND WHILE YOU STILL BREATHE."

"Um...Me too."

He takes off like a rocket to the next stage, kicking up dust and smoke in his wake.

"FAIR THEE WELL...!"

The cloud takes a bit to settle and the human finds herself alone. The path ahead is unknown but the only way to go. Somehow being behind the building she thinks she was held within and with no door to speak of insight. She silently prayed that her trust in the robot that abducted her was well placed...even though that thought made her question her ability to pick people to trust. Either way, her journey through game show hell begins now as she walks the lonely road that is way too narrow and high up for her liking.

[Snowdin: Skeleton House in present time]

Nothing. Nothing but re-run filler has been on the TV for hours. And all they could do was wait. Wait for any change on that damn picture box. Papyrus was doing his best to keep a worried Toriel and tense Grillby from burning the house down. Sans on the other hand was lost in his mind, retracing the history of his time in the LAB and its many rooms. Where were they hiding the human? What new rooms were added since he left? Could Alphys still be using the old underground facility?

*obnoxious fanfare*

The television cuts from its old showing to Mettaton live out in Hotland, on real clues can be seen as he hovers about the volcanic rock.

"SORRY FOR THE DELAY MY DEADLY GUYS AND DOLLS. SEEMS I WAS A BIT TOO ROUGH DURING OUR LAST GAME AND MY CO-STAR NEEDED EXTRA TIME TO RECOVER. GUESS I DON'T KNOW MY OWN STRENGTH."

His nonchalant attitude and words were far from comforting to the four.

"BUT FEAR NOT, AS SHE HAS MADE A FULL RECOVERY!"

A weight is lifted from the room.

"IN FACT, SHE'S ON THE START OF THE NEXT PHASE OF OUR SHOW. A DANGEROUS GAUNTLET OF OBSITCLES, DAUNTING PUZZLES, AND THE RANDOM VAGABOND THAT MAY OR MAY NOT JUST HAPPEN TO BE WANDERING AROUND."

The video feed shifts to the human on a conveyor belt. Merely scrolling along in a tacky outfit and makeup trying not to look down.

"The fuck is she wearing?!"

Grillby fumes. Toriel is equally unhappy about her daughter's new look. Sans rolls his eyes, finding it somewhat funny that Grillby is displeased by this when did way worse before.

"HER GOAL, REACH THE END TO BEGIN OUR NEXT SHOW SEGMENT. SHE WILL REPEAT THIS TWO MORE TIMES BEFORE ENDING WITH OUR FOURTH AND FINAL ENCOUNTER."

That doesn't sound good. The feed zooms in on her.

"WILL SHE SURVIVE AND EARN HER LIFE TO LIVE FOR ANOTHER DAY? OR WILL THIS BE THE DAY THE LAST SOUL IS COLLECTED? WE SHALL FIND OUT SOON ENOUGH. IN THE MEANTIME, I NEED TO AQUIRE A FEW ODDS AND ENDS, SO I LEAVE YOU TO OUR DARLING'S DARING DO. ENJOY."

The camera switches to a different angle and continues to follow her. Before the words can even leave Papyrus's mouth Sans is already shaking his head.

"i still don't know where that is."

"ARE YOU SURE?"

"trust me, i don't recognize where she's at."

"Don't you have a post in Hotland?"

Grillby points out much to Papyrus's puzzlement.

"YOU HAVE A POST IN HOTLAND?"

Sans sighs.

"it's like i told ya, i do more than ya think i do. i have posts at the start of snowdin forest, waterfall's beginning, level two of hotland, and i am the one that waits in the judgment hall."

Papyrus is even more confused but Toriel starts to broil.

"You...You were the one all along, were you not?"

Sans balls his fists, bracing for this.

"You were the one that killed the humans that left the Ruins."

No Tori...not all...just one...over and over again.

"no. i haven't killed anyone."

That gave her some relief. But more questions.

"Then if not you, who does harm them?"

"asgore does."

And that killed it. Her eyes sink with a flame, one of hate and despair. It's painfully obvious. She's going to snap.

"ya should know he doesn't take pleasure in doin' it."

Her expression falters.

"it's a lot of weight on that old goat's shoulders. what with bein' a king and everyone expectin' him to solve all our problems, like breakin' the barrier. it's one thing to kill someone that's wronged ya. it's much harder to look an innocent in the eyes and end them."

She frowns, seeing some truth in his words.

"ya may hate his guts, but he's harborin' the biggest burden. bein' the one to harvest the souls."

"But..."

Does she still wish to fight?

"But the law states humans are to be killed on sight, right? You can not tell me the Guard has not spilled blood in all this time!"

"ACTUALLY..."

Papyrus chimes in.

"WHILE IT'S TRUE, THAT IS THE BLUNTEST FORM OF THE LAW, IT'S NOT THE EXACT WORDING. *AHEM* IF A LIVING HUMAN IS FOUND IN THE UNDERGROUND THAN THEY ARE TO BE ENGAGED AND CAPTURED. EXTREME CAUTION AND VIOLENCE IS TO BE USED IN THE APRENTION OF HUMAN SOULS. NOWHERE IS IT SAID WE ARE TO KILL ON SIGHT. BUT THE CURRENT CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD HAS INTERPRETED THIS LAW IN HER OWN WAY AND INFORCES IT AS SUCH...DEATH TO ALL HUMANS. NO EXCEPTIONS. OVERTIME, THAT'S HOW THE LAW EVOLVED TO BE KNOWN TO THE PUBLIC."

"Why?"

"captain undyne lost her family in the war. that kind of wound doesn't heal easily. it didn't help much that the hammer of punishment took her in as his own."

That name struck a chord.

"Gerson? I suppose that does make sense. He was ruthless in his prime. And he left our court when we choose to surrender. Said we were showing weakness by giving in. So many were already lost...We wanted to end the slaughter before the dust count became unrecognizable."

"seems that spite got passed on in undyne."

"OUR CAPTAIN GOES BY ANOTHER...THE SPEAR OF PUNISHMENT."

Her worry overcomes any animosity she held.

"I pray my child never encounters your Captain."

One can only hope.

"Shit..."

Grillby gets their attention.

"She's been spotted."

Eyes return to the television and the footage shown. The human had passed the large system of conveyor belts going forward and backward. Exhaust ports of vermilion flame burst from nearby pipes in the background, the wooshing sound of steam and cogs adding to the scenery. Reaching the end of the conveyor belts, the human comes into view of several small islands surrounded by boiling lava. Most of these islands hold steam vents. However, the human is unaware of this due to being blocked by a Tsunderplane.

[HOTLAND: LEVEL ONE]

Damn this heat. Damn this plan of yours, Mettaton. And damn this odd-looking monster that won't get out of my way. It appears to resemble a regular real-world modern airplane, an Airbus A340-300 to be exact, wearing a black mob cap with thin red ribbons on it, a faint blush tints its nosecone.

"Um...Do you mind?"

I move slightly to the side, trying to give it room while avoiding the edge. But it just moves the same as I do, almost like a mock mimic. Maybe it's just a fluke. I try it again. And again it does it.

"You're not gonna let me by, are you?"

My soul feels gripped and without skipping a beat, my blue soul comes out, a battle begins.

[Tsunderplane gets in the way! Not on purpose or anything.]

Wait...Don't tell me that name means what I think it does. What are my options?

[FIGHT]

[ACT]

[̴͝SP͜͞E͡L̵͜L͟͠͏]͘͢

[ITEM]

[MERCY]

That weird one came back? It looks so...messed up. I won't touch it. Maybe as a last resort, but not if I can help it. Let's see what this thing is made of.

[ACT selected.]

[New options available.]

[CHECK]

[FLIRT]

[APPROACH]

I am not doing those last two before I know what this thing can do.

[CHECK selected.]

[TSUNDERPLANE – HP: 80 ATK: 25 DEF: 26 – Seems mean, but does it secretly like you?]

"The fuck...?"

This plane catches an attitude.

"No way! Why would I like YOU?!"

Especially since we've only just met. Wait...

"You can talk?!"

It moves it's wings up, summing its attack. Several smaller planes fly horizontally straight from either side above me, dropping bombs that look like miniature nukes. Once a bomb hits the ground, a vertical line of toxic smoke appears and blocks my sight momentarily. All in all, this is not easy to avoid because of the lack of space and I end up taking a really nasty hit.

[HP ████████████████ 15/40]

I'm too afraid to check my wound. My ears are ringing and I feel damp somewhere on my side. I won't stand another hit like that. Damn it! I need my defense items!

*bang*

My head is smacked hard by metal.

[Tsunderplane "accidentally" bumps you with its wing.]

It pushed me back. It's keeping distance. Why it's not like it needs the room, damn thing can fly. I wonder...What'll happen if I get close? But first I need to heal.

[ITEM selected.]

I need to remember to thank Flowey when I see him again. If it wasn't for his prodding I'd have nothing in my inventory.

["Butterscotch Cheesecake" - All HP - Butterscotch cheesecake, one slice.]

"Mmmm...So good. Thanks, mama."

[You ate the Butterscotch Cheesecake. Your HP was maxed out.]

[HP ██████████████████████████████████████████ 40/40]

Ah, much better. Now I just need to avoid getting hit again. My turn ends.

"Hmph! Id... Idiot! Don't get in my way!"

You blocked me, asshat.

She uses a different attack but one that's somewhat easier to deal with. Large planes fly directly at me, leaving a horizontal-moving toxic trail of smoke balls. I am grateful this was it's second go. I dodge this one better, no damage taken.

[Tsunderplane shakes its nose dismissively at you.]

"_... Human..."

Now it speaks in emojis? I mean, I guess that's a thing that can happen, Gaster speaks in hands and junk.

"Something wrong? I can't help but notice."

Going off its behavior and name, I put some real emphasis on the word notice. It flinches. Got you.

Tsundere is a Japanese term for a character development process that depicts a person who is initially cold and sometimes even hostile before gradually showing a warmer, friendlier side over time. The word is derived from the terms tsun tsun ('to turn away in disgust or anger') and dere dere ('to become affectionate'). They're the opposite of a Yandere. Yandere is a Japanese term for a person who is initially very loving and gentle to someone or at least innocent before their devotion becomes destructive in nature, often through violence and/or brutality. The term is derived from the words yanderu (a mental or emotional illness) and dere dere. They are different and yet have one weakness...Wanting the attention of Senpai, the person they have a fondness for. Why do I know all this? Because I'm a big freaking dork! I can use this. I just don't understand why it would have such feelings.

"...H-human ... ...?"

Now to test my theory.

[APPROACH selected.]

[You get close to Tsunderplane. But not too close.]

"Eeeeh? H-human ...?"

It's getting flustered. I'm not proud of this method but if it works to keep me alive, so be it.

"You don't mind me getting close, right?"

[Tsunderplane looks over, then turns up its nose.]

"Huh!? Y-you sicko!"

It spins on heels it doesn't have and nearly takes my head. This ain't going to be easy.

The mini planes return but something's off. Six planes attacked me before, but now there's only three. Easier than before yet still dangerous. That smoke is noxious and obnoxious.

[Tsunderplane gives you a condescending barrel roll.]

"Don't think I'm going easy on you! It's not like I LIKE you."

Your actions say otherwise, so does that growing blush. Time for phase two.

[FLIRT selected.]

[You tell Tsunderplane it has an impressive wingspan.]

"I must say, birds wish they could have wings like that. Very cool."

It covers its nosecone in its wingtips.

"Ah...is that true...?"

"Why would I lie?"

I think this is working. It summons the large planes again but this time the planes are surrounded by narrow green auras and the smoke trails aren't moving. Curiosity has me touching the green and finding it does two things. One, it doesn't hurt me. And two, it's blushing more excitedly. After touching four Tsunderplane is practically glowing, or it could be the headlights. And when that last sixth plane passes Tsunderplane looks away shyly and starts to give off the smell of an airport perfume counter. Maybe just one more to seal the deal.

[FLIRT selected.]

[You tell Tsunderplane it has cute winglets.]

"Awww...Those wingtip fences are so cute! Then again, on such an adorable aircraft, that's to be expected."

It loses its mind. Jetting high up and aileron rolls three times before zipping off into the distance.

[YOU WON!]

[You earned 0 XP and 60 gold.]

Damn! That's some gold! Much needed due to spending all my gold in Waterfall so long ago.

"Not my worse fight but one of the more interesting ones. Till we meet again, Tsunderplane-chan."

I wave to where I saw Tsunderplane fly off and return to my journey. However, this is short-lived once again, but not by a monster. I think this is one of the obstacles Mettaton told me about. The land is broken. Vents shoot out big gusts of steam. I think he intends for me to use these to traverse the area since there are painted red arrows on the one in front of me and the one across from it. The flaw in this plan of his is this...In trying to have seen any of this, I ended up looking down.

Sweat begins to slide down my brow, but not from the heat. My wide eyes can't look away from the high as hell drop to lava that I'm meant to cross. My body starts to tremble. My breathing harsh. I'm going into a panic.

[Snowdin: Skeleton House in present time]

That was a stressful fight to watch. The massive damage the human took at the start made it clear she had been stripped of her armor, adding harsher levels of difficulty to an already challenging task. But they know her well by this point. She's clever. She's adaptable. She's stubborn as hell. And she knows they're likely watching.

["Butterscotch Cheesecake" - All HP - Butterscotch cheesecake, one slice.]

"Mmmm...So good. Thanks, mama."

[You ate the Butterscotch Cheesecake. Your HP was maxed out.]

[HP ██████████████████████████████████████████ 40/40]

Toriel's motherly heart was swelling. This one. This was the one she believed could survive in this hell. And her non-violent victory against the Tsunderplane made it more clear that her daughter wasn't so much the child she believed her to be.

"Yeah! Way to go, pussycat!"

Grillby is at least in better spirits. He nearly torched the couch when he thought of Mettaton stripping her of her armor.

"SHE'S NOT MOVING."

True. The human had won the fight but was now frozen in place by the vents, fear dripped from her face.

"uh oh."

This got attention.

"What is wrong? Why does she not continue?"

"pap and me found this out about her when she first came out of the ruins. she's afraid of heights. and if she doesn't move soon, she'll pass out under the pressure."

"But...It's not like she can just leave. And if she falls..."

No one wanted to finish that thought.

"THE HELL...?"

Something new appears and has their attention.

"Flowey?"

[HOTLAND: LAB]

Undyne had been watching the many screens Alphys controls as part of Mettaton's live feed broadcast. Nothing had been particularly interesting, not even that bogus fight with the Tsunderplane. But then...

"The fuck...? Alphys, you seeing this?"

Of course, the lizard was scribbling like a madman on her notepad. This was something new.

"Huh...Show me what ya got, human."

The fish woman resumes watching with a hearty slurp of noddles.

[HOTLAND: LEVEL ONE]

It's happening again. My legs turn to jelly and I drop to my knees. I can't do this. I can't move. What if I fall? I don't want to burn to death. I heard it's not quick either like how movies portray it. The pain overload is what kills you. I don't want that. I ̕ca͢n̛'́t ͢de̶al͏! Í ̸c̷̨a̴n'͡t!͘

*STATIC* HELLO? DARLING? CAN YOU HEAR ME?

The earpiece Mettaton gave me goes off. But something's interfering.

*STATIC* YOU NEED TO GET GOING, DEAR. DON'T WORRY ABOUT THE STEAM. IT WON'T BURN. THOUGH YOU MIGHT GET A BIT TENDER IF YOU PLAY IN THEM TOO LONG.

T̷̵h̷́at̵̨'̧͞s̵̸͞ ́̀not ̷̕͜h́el̴͘̕p̛i̸͜ng͟!̢͟

I feel it starting. The blood dripping from my nose. Why? Why am I so weak?!

*STATIC* DARLING? COME ON. YOU NEED TO MOVE. WE HAD A DEAL.

F̴̶͢u͘͞c̶͞k͏ ͟͏̴ý̢ou ̸́a̶̕͜n҉͞d҉̛ ̶̀y͢o̡u̸͠r̸ ̧́͝d͞e̢͜ą̕l͢͝! ̨̛I͝͞͝'̶m̢҉ n̡o̡͜͝t̴ ̵҉̛m̀͏o͘͝v̴́͠i͏̀n͟͡ǵ͜!̴

Strange energy begins to crackle around me. I don't know what it is and it's freaking me out more!

"There you are..."

Life returns to me upon hearing Flowey's voice.

"You just always seem to...The hell is up with your face?!"

"B̢͢͞ŗ̡̀o̸t̡h̡͟e̵̛r͘̕͞?"

The strange energy slowly dissipates, Flowey being here is calming me down, though the sight still unnerves him.

"Easy now. Just calm down. You don't want to overtax your soul."

"S̨-̀Sơr͡ry̷.̛.͞.I.̶..͢*shaky inhale*I looked down."

Flowey moves over to me and pats my leg with a tiny vine.

"Don't worry, your big brother's here for you."

I give him a nervous smile and wipe my nose.

"So...What's wrong with my face?"

"Uh...Nothing. You look fine."

I look at him flatly.

"I have makeup on, don't I?"

"Well..."

God dang it, Mettaton.

"Fudge it. As long as I'm not dolled up like a clown, ignore it. Right now I need help."

"Fine with me, but first...I want an apology for that stunt at the bar."

I nod.

"I'm sorry. It was a dirty move. But..."

He pouts.

"You wanted to talk to him without me butting in."

I claw the ground.

"...There are things I still can't tell you."

"When? When can you open up to me?"

"Soon. Lots of stuff I know is in pieces. I just need to figure out how it all fits to understand."

"Like what?"

"Well for starters...Getting through this crap."

Flowey looks out at the vents.

"You really can't do this?"

"No. My acrophobia, paranoia, vertigo, and lack of self-confidence prevents it."

"Sheesh. At least your honest."

I sit on my heels and slap my face a few times, trying to psych myself out.

"The body and mind both have their own ways of keeping themselves safe. Even if one of them is tricking the other. My body won't move if my brain keeps telling it no because it feels in danger."

"Hmmm...And I take it you're not up for that blindfold idea again."

I look at him confused.

"Over lava?!"

He sighs.

"Yeah, fair enough."

This sucks.

"Oh! I got an idea. What if I carry you over?"

Flower-goat-boy say what?

"Not to put you down, bro, but I ain't exactly light and I don't want you to hurt yourself trying."

He winks.

"Trust me. I'm stronger than you think."

I don't doubt you, I'm more worried I'll freak out if he does. But what choice do I have? Sit her forever or move forward.

"Okay. But not yet."

"Huh?"

I feel the ground again.

"This is rock and yet you're moving through it..."

"Yeah?"

"Can you scout ahead through this vent thing? Tell me if other monsters or crap is hiding?"

He nods.

"Can do."

He sinks into the ground. Here's hoping he stays out of sight of any hostiles. A few times I see his petal head pop up from time to time, but in areas I can't see I get a bit shook. Especially when he's out of sight for too long. I count the seconds between each puff of steam, giving up because it's too fast. A small rumble off to my side, part of Flowey's stem is protruding but seems to be having trouble coming out. With some wiggling and what looks like some tugging, he emerges yet only partly.

"*strain* H-Hey...I found something you can use."

I'm curious. I help chip some ground away and something metal appears. Looping my finger through a hole, I help him pull this mystery thing out and wow it puts up quite the struggle. With a final double pull from the both of us, the object reveals itself...a frying pan?

"The hell...?"

"I found it at one of the areas off over there. It once belonged to a human that fell a long time ago."

All this mismatch stuff. What were the humans that fell before even doing to fall with such stuff? Whatever, an item gained is better than no items at all.

[You equipped the Nasty Pan.]

[You gain 10 Attack.]

[You don't know if it's covered in old food or gore. Either way, the damage is rather consistent. Consumables items will heal 4 more HP.]

"Damn. Was really hoping for some defense boost."

"Sorry. How uneven does this make your stats now?"

"See for yourself."

He's confused till he CHECKs me.

[Lynsie - LV:1 - HP: 40 ATK: 30 DEF: 11 - Too nice for her own good.]

"What the...? What happened?!"

I stand and stretch.

"I got mugged."

He frowns.

"The robot?"

I answer with a nod and change the line of chatter to current events.

"Was there anyone out there?"

He shakes his head.

"At least that's some good news. So how do we do this?"

He moves back, over to where the path sort-of splits.

"This way."

With no other moves, I follow him to a spot where a vent is missing and he points to the land across it.

"Over there is the exit. If you can not freak out, I should be able to take you over there."

My spine shivers.

"Are you certain you can lift me over? That's at least a ten-foot gap, give or take."

"Trust me. I know what I'm capable of."

I swallow what little courage I have and shut my eyes tight.

"Please, make it quick."

"Don't worry, I got you."

There's silence for a bit. Then something slithers under then over my shoulders and slinks to wrap around my waist. I want to look but when my feet leave the ground my entire body clenches.

"Easy now. No sudden moves."

That doesn't help.

I do my best to block out everything. Like the feel of wind brushing past and intense heat that wafts up from below. My nerves are threatening to go off again. The instant I can feel a foot touch anything solid my eyes shoot open.

"See? Told you I could do it."

He's already on this side with me. Probably moved here first then reached over and carried my dumb frightened ass over. Bless you, super flower-goat-boy! The vines release and I'm once more on terra firma. I use this moment to hug Flowey.

"Thank you!"

He chuckles and now it's two going through Mettaton's show. If only I didn't leave my bag at home. Then he'd be riding with me. Then again, Mettaton would've taken that too and really screwed me over.

FINALLY. AS TOUCHING AS THAT WAS, DARLING, YOU NEED TO GET MOVING. WE'RE ALREADY BEHIND SCHEDULE AS IT IS.

I pop my neck and nod. The sooner I get through this the sooner it ends and we can go home.

"You okay with following me in case of other bull?"

"Oh yeah. You're going to need me. There are more vents past this.

I groan and silently curse everything before walking. Upon entering the north path past the steam vents, we come across another path made of pipework that veers to the right. This would be super chill if it weren't for the freaking lasers!

"This shouldn't be a big deal."

I look down at Flowey funny.

"Dude...Do you not see the lasers?"

He shakes his head.

"Don't think of them like you think they are. Those are made with magic energy. You remember what I told you about orange and light blue magic, don't you?"

It takes a second for that to click in my head. My small smirk lets him know I'm not completely stupid.

"See you on the other side."

He retreats to the ground and has to move through that, not like he can go through metal shit. So I take on this obstacle. There are nine lasers in total that go the order of orange, orange, cyan, orange, cyan, orange, cyan, cyan, and orange, with the cyan ones moving around. So by the logic of magic properties, I move through the orange ones and pause for the cyan ones till it's safe to keep going. In no time I'm at the end, a large metal pillar has a big red switch and out of spite I flip it. This effectively turns the laser off. Sweet! That was easy. Onward I go. The path veers upward and, can you guess, has more of those damn vents. A base one that changes directions, a one on the left and right side as well as in front. The path wants me to go forward but is blocked by a locked door. No doubt each side has a puzzle that opens each lock. Gotta love real-life video game logic.

"Not so bad, right?"

Speaks the emerging flora to my right.

"Still in one piece."

I joke to myself to keep the dumb side of me from saying something to jinx me.

"Need another lift?"

Looking at the gap between vents, it's not so evil as the first ones, maybe about four or five feet.

"I think I can manage this one."

He's relieved, thinking I'm being a big girl and fighting my fear.

"Great! I knew you could...wait...What are you...?!"

Don't think. Just act. Fear can't affect you if you don't realize it's there.

I take a short sprint and make nice bound over to where he's at. He's rather confused.

"The hell? What about your phobia?"

"Easy...Didn't think about it."

I head for the puzzle and he's flabbergasted.

"Wha...but...You still could've used the vents!"

"Nope!"

He catches up to me as I get distracted looking at two monsters sitting at the cliff's edge.

"You scare me something."

"How do you think I feel? I scare myself and I'm the one doing it."

There's a room nearby but these two just pull my attention. There's what appears to be a pale-green dragon in a black business suit and slick shade, like some sort of scaly lawyer. A black wisp-like monsters that reminds me of Grillby, even sporting glasses, in a gray tank-top and red pants drinking something steaming hot, dude looks chill in this heat. They don't seem to notice us and I can hardly hear bits of their chit chat. Something about how they're glad that the reactivated puzzles are preventing them from progressing as they do not want to go to work. They are also muttering some other stuff but I head for the room before they see this random human.

Inside the puzzle room, I'm met by two things. The puzzle itself and a disembodied fox head wearing sunglasses. The fuck am I tripping on?!

"The door leading through the area is closed?"

Dear God, it bounces as it talks and speaks with an upward inflection like valley speak! It hurts my brain. Good news, it has no clue what I am. Yay!

"So I tried the puzzle? But I kept running out of ammo, and it kept restarting?"

"...Bummer."

"And my two co-workers won't help? It's like they don't even wanna go to work?"

"Harsh."

"Why don't you try? Try using the console?"

I shrug and give this thing a little checking out. No real help from the fox so maybe the puzzle will tell me what to do. Oh, look! The convenient "?" icon is super tiny and hidden in the corner while also being somewhat the same color as the background. That's not a dick move, oh no, not in the slightest.

(Shoot the opposing ship!)

(Move the boxes to complete your mission.)

Okay, that's useful. Let's see...Four immovable blocks, two movable ones, and two open spaces. The immovable blocks are in each corner and the movable ones are in my way. And to top it all off, I get only two shots. Scoot the two away, shoot, and puzzle solved.

(CONGRATULATIONS!)

That's one done, another to go.

"Wow? You solved it? I'm impressed? You must be a total nerd?"

...Jackass.

Leaving the room has Flowey grabbing my wrist with a vine and tugging me to get moving.

"Bro, chill, what's wrong?"

"I heard them talking. They've been watching Mettaton's broadcast on their phones."

Yeah, that's our cue to skedaddle.

"Please use the vents this time."

I speed past him much to his chagrin.

"Screw...the...rules!"

I shout with each leap taken. I know deep down he wants to call me dumb and yet I'm kinda proud I'm able to forget about the incredibly high path we're treading that drops into freaking lava. He rejoins me as a non-moving cyan laser seemingly impedes my progress. However, it's waist level in height and nothing is stopping me from crawling underneath it.

"Wow."

"I know, right?"

Like on the right side, the left has the puzzle room and two monsters just hanging out on the cliff. These two monster girls are wearing what look like red and black Japanese school uniforms. The fuck? Not sure what's weirder, everyone's bravery by being that close to death or how the hell they got those clothes. Either way, one girl is purple with possible tentacle hair and has red eyes with black sclera, she is so clearly a tom-boy with her red back facing cap and skateboard. While the other girl is made up of lime green flame and gives off this way too innocent vibe for being here and with the bad-girl. Hotland does seem more and more to be Grillby's former home. How many more fire elementals live here?

"You think the laser has them stuck here?"

"Maybe. I know I wouldn't crawl on the floor with a skirt like that."

I enter the room and thankfully there's no head laying around that speaks in headache-inducing jabber. Let's see...Are the rules the same?

(Shoot the opposing ship!)

(Move the boxes to complete your mission.)

Yep. Same rules but different layout. Five immovable blocks, six movable ones, and five open spaces. The three immovable ones are in corners, one is above a corner, and the last is touching the corner of a corner block. And once more I get two shots. The movable blocks from a backward jacked letter C. This one is a bit more complex. The majority of the blocks move in one push. I have to try this a few times before I'm able to have it clear enough to shoot through one block and then the target.

(CONGRATULATIONS!)

If my calculations are correct, the door should be open now and further progress can be made. I leave the room and notice the laser is off. Flowey is also nowhere to be seen, probably due to the girls having moved from their original spot.

"Finally! Someone turned off that laser!"

Don't thank me, I'm just awesome.

"Now that we're free we can... Well, uh, I guess we'll just keep standing here."

"Hm? Nice try, but your loitering technique still needs work."

They chat with themselves. Great time to be invisible.

"Loitering around... What's the point?"

"Beats being in school. Why should we bother going to school, anyway...? What's the point in learning how to make a buncha puzzles? There's GOTTA be a way to cancel school."

"But isn't it summer vacation?"

"...Auuuugh! This world's got no future!"

A bit overly dramatic. Whatever. Back to business. I rush to make my final leap and almost trip on the pipework floor. Yeah...Not gonna be doing this jump thing anymore. Lost my nerve for it. Motion activates the door and it slides opens into the rock.

"Okay, Metta...Here I come."

Going through the door leads me to a small bit of land that turns to the right and three widely spaced vents in a row to reach the next...Is that kitchen linoleum? I can't be seeing that right.

"Seems like you have no choice this time."

Flowey appears.

"Can't at least hurl me across?"

He shakes his head.

"I can't support carrying you that far and I'm not risking you falling to death."

"Yeah, my luck as of late would be that level of crap."

I smack myself a few times to ready my timid nerves.

"Any words of wisdom before I do this?"

He thinks for a moment.

"Beware of chainsaws."

"What?!"

He sinks into the ground and I internally scream...Fuck my life!

Stepping onto the vent blocks the steam for a bit. The building pressure launches me from one vent to the next. By the time I reach solid ground I'm about ready to vomit my still-beating heart out.

"I hate heights!"

I'm gonna punch him. I swear, even if it breaks my hands, I will beat the shit out of Mettaton for this.

Still shaken I crawl my way into the next area. It's very weird. As if the linoleum wasn't odd, I'm now in what looks like a kitchen set. Oh...Oh god no...This can't mean...

"Don't tell me this is what I think it is."

As if on cue, low and behold, my metal master of moronic mayhem hovers down from the heavens wearing a chef's hat.

"OHHHH YES! WELCOME, DASTARDLIES, TO THE UNDERGROUND'S PREMIER COOKING SHOW!"

(Cooking with a Killer Robot)

"PRE-HEAT YOUR OVENS, BECAUSE WE'VE GOT A VERY SPECIAL RECIPE FOR YOU TODAY! WE'RE GOING TO BE MAKING...A CAKE! DEVIL'S FOOD CAKE TO BE EXACT."

Two of his hands stretch out and grab me, despite my pointless clawing at the floor, to present me to cameras I can't see.

"MY LOVELY ASSISTANT HERE WILL GATHER THE INGREDIENTS. EVERYONE GIVE THEM A BIG HAND!"

An applause sound effect goes off as well as confetti falls. I glare at myself.

"*mutter* You better have my stuff as promised or I will purposefully make sure your ratings bomb."

He pulls me in so only I hear him.

"*WHISPER* DO THAT AND YOU CAN KISS YOUR ITEMS GOODBYE."

I snort a huff and try to put on a smile. This seems to be what he wants.

"WE'LL NEED SUGAR, MILK, FLOUR, CHOCOLATE, AND EGGS. GO FOR IT, SWEETHEART!"

He's being overly flashy and fantastic. I should play along...but I'm too pissy and bitter. Plus calling me sweetheart irks me. You want a nice human? I'll be so sweet your blood sugar will spike!

"*giggles* Golly-gee. Thanks for having me on your show, Mr. Mettaton. Let's make the bestest best cake ever!"

This is stooping to new levels of pettiness that I might want to find a therapist for later. I'm pushing for a nearly unbelievable level of childish innocence as I scope the set and gather ingredients. All the while he watches every little skip and mean-spirited twirl I make before bring it all back to him a dopey smile.

"All done, Mr. Mettaton. This is going to be the most choco-lickity-yummiest cake in the universe!"

He puts two of his hands together and one on my head before sighing.

"DARLING...I LOVE WHAT YOU'RE DOING, I REALLY DO. BUT FOR THE SAKE OF THE AUDIENCE, COULD YOU LOWER THE CUTE DOWN A BIT?"

I give the puppy dog eyes.

"Am I in trouble? Did I do something wrong?"

He flinches and without thinking he slams my head into the counter. I roar and cover my face, trying not to burst into a hurricane of swears while he goes about the show.

"PERFECT! GREAT JOB, BEAUTIFUL! WE'VE GOT ALL OF THE INGREDIENTS WE NEED TO BAKE THE CAKE! MILK... SUGAR... FLOUR... CHOCOLATE... EGGS..."

He gasps suddenly while I check if my nose is broken. Good news, it's not.

"OH MY! WAIT A MAGNIFICENT MOMENT! HOW COULD I FORGET! WE'RE MISSING THE MOST IMPORTANT INGREDIENT!"

I wipe a small bit of blood off my forehead.

"And what ingredient is that? This was everything you told me to get."

Some of my attitude is coming out but not too much.

"WHY, IT'S NOTHING WE HAVE TO GO SEARCHING FOR. YOU BROUGHT IT HERE WITH YOU."

I look at him funny until I see him pulling two chainsaws out from under the counter.

"A HUMAN SOUL!"

My heart sinks as he revs them up. Yet when he begins to do a slow methodical approach...My brain remembers to do one of my many pointless talents. Poking holes things with needless but true knowledge.

"Objection!"

The nerd in me is giddy for being able to make him pause with that.

"YES?"

I slap the counter.

"This recipe is bogus. What kind of cake calls for an ingredient that is so rare and priceless as a human soul? I submit my dumb argument, because I'm willing to admit the idiocy of saying this, that a human soul would serve a far greater purpose than being used for baked goods. Such as breaking the barrier. What say you, Metta? Do you have anything to back up your reasoning to use my soul in this cake?"

I wonder if Napsablook has an emulator on his PC? I want to play Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney now.

His screen blinks a little in thought. Before one of his arms leaves the murder weapon to go somewhere off set and return to put a can on the counter.

"...What is that?"

"THAT, MY DEAR, IS MTT-BRAND ALWAYS-CONVENIENT HUMAN-SOUL-FLAVOR-SUBSTITUTE! AVAILABLE AT ANY OF MY FINE RETAIL MARKETS! PROOF THAT THIS IS SOMETHING RATHER COMMON DOWN HERE AND THEREFORE, NOT A COMPLETELY UNREASONABLE IDEA AS TO WHY USE OF YOUR SOUL WOULD BE IN COOKING."

I stare dumbfounded at this can.

"This...This thing holds stuff that tastes like a human soul?"

He turns one chainsaw off and leans on it like a villain does with a cane.

"IT IS WHAT IT IS, DARLING. THE LABEL DOESN'T LIE. I SELL ONLY THE BEST. AND I GUARANTEE, IF YOU TRY IT, YOU'D NEVER KNOW THE DIFFERENCE."

My mouth opens but nothing comes out. I put my hands together, hold them to my face, and ponder the meaning of life."

"Metta, my dude...This is some messed up stuff right here."

"HOW SO?"

I sigh through my nose and lose my ability to be subtle.

"You do know that souls can be used as sexual organs, right?"

He slips from his cool pose in shock.

"DARLING! CAREFUL WHAT YOU SAY! THIS IS LIVE AND KIDS MIGHT BE WATCHING."

"Do not change the subject by insinuating children don't have the ability to understand. Kids are always learning and they find things out quicker than others give credit. Such as their body's and, because it's a monster's core, soul. You can not expect me to believe that knowledge of that caliber is unknown."

I grab the can harshly.

"Knowing that, the fact this can exists and as you claim is indistinguishable from the real deal, it insinuates that you or someone else on your staff knows what a human soul tastes like. Meaning...Someone has had oral sex with a human soul."

He falls over at my accusations. Chainsaws long forgotten. But I'm not done.

"Further more, this can opens a can of worms in its implications. Forgive my armature knowledge on the subject, but in the old myths above, there is no mention of monsters feeding on human souls. Such things usually are connected to demons. So this concept is either new to the Underground or you're making it up purely for this show!"

My head is swimming with weird thoughts and I'm unable to keep them to myself.

"Fearing that the humans would one day turn on monster kind and slaughter their people, absorb their few boss souls and become dominant over them, the monsters decided to launch a preemptive strike. That's what the old text said, but...If this feeding on souls it true..."

I glare at the can, not liking the thoughts it's making me get.

"Then humans had a reason to seal you away."

Those words are bitter and I spit them getting angry, squeezing the can with force.

"Tell me I'm wrong."

It crunches, metal splitting to cut into my hand before furiously throwing it at the fake window behind us.

"Tell me I'm wrong! Don't make me feel bad for humanity!"

I'm physically shaking. My rage tapering on the verge. It's not even towards anyone. How can it? What's in the past is there forever. But this...Don't tell me this is real and in the present.

"Please..."

I lick my hand, trying to focus on the sting and hint of copper to calm me down. Finally able to recover, Mettaton dusts himself off. Taking note of my behavior and picking his words carefully.

"WOW, DARLING. SUCH RAW EMOTION. THE PASSION. FEAR. ANGER. AND DESPERATION. IT'S PERFECT IN EVERY WAY!"

A low snarl from me reminds him that I'm in no mood for his fabulous side.

"BUT TO ANSWER YOUR RATHER INTERESTING QUERY...NO. IT'S NOT TRUE."

A small sensation of relief begins to hit me as he opens a compartment under his screen and pulls out a small advertisement poster.

"I FIGURED THIS IDEA WOULD WORK MAINLY BECAUSE..."

He lightly touches my face.

"YOU'RE SWEETER THAN ANY DESERT~."

With the whole 'about to kill me' and fucked up line of thought thing that happened seconds ago, his little flirt has no effect and I slap his hand away. He's taken by this yet keeps his composer.

"BUT I SEE NOW THAT WAS FOOLISH. USING YOU IN A SIMPLE COOKING SHOW WAS A MASSIVE UNDERESTIMATION. ESPECIALLY TO PROMOTE MY NEWEST PRODUCT."

He crumbs the add and tosses it away.

"BUT AFTER THAT SCENE, I CAN KISS THOSE SALES GOODBYE. IT WAS WORTH A SHOT THOUGH. YOU NEVER KNOW WHAT WORKS WITHOUT TAKING RISKS."

I am so done with all of this it ain't even funny.

"YET THIS WASN'T A TOTAL LOST. I LEARNED YOU HAVE A REAL TALENT."

I eye him cautiously, getting the bleeding to at last stop.

"CLEARLY A COURTROOM DRAMA IS PERFECT FOR YOU!"

I hate my luck.

"I NEED TO MAKE SOME CALLS! GET A SET MADE! OOOOOH! THE SCANDALOUS SCRIPT IDEAS I HAVE!"

"I think you're jumping the gun a bit early on this."

He puts a finger to my lips.

"NOT NOW, DARLING, I'M WORKING."

I gesture to where I assume a camera is that he's nuts.

[RING-RING]

His phone goes off.

"THIS BETTER BE IMPORTANT! I'M ON AIR RIGHT NOW!"

Damn it. I can't hear the caller.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN SHE WON'T MOVE?! YOU TELL HER..."

He's cut off.

"W-WHAT?! HOW MANY OF YOU ARE THERE LEFT? ...JUST YOU?! DAMN IT, BUGERPANTS, SO HELP ME IF THIS IS A PLOY TO GET OUT OF YOUR SHIFT..."

While he's distracted, I use this time to move the chainsaws away and out of sight. No need for them to come back into play.

"WAIT...SAY THAT LAST PART AGAIN. ARE YOU CERTAIN IT'S HIS POST?"

Post? What post? Who's post?

"*HUFF* FINE. RETURN TO YOUR POST. I'LL DEAL WITH THIS MYSELF."

He hangs up and is not too happy.

"*MUMBLE* DAMN SPIDER AND HER STUPID PET, KILLS MY MINIONS AND STILL DENIES MY BUSINESS DEALS!"

"You okay?"

My voice snaps him out of his thoughts and he calms down.

"UM...A CHANGE IN PLANS HAS COME UP. YES! DUE TO SOME SET ISSUES AND TIME CONSTRAINTS, OUR SHOW RUNS ON A STRICT SCHEDULE YOU KNOW, I'M GOING TO PERSONALLY DROP YOU OFF AT THE NEXT LEG OF THE GAUNTLET."

Well, that sounds like a load of bullshit. But my dumb brain has to dumb brain.

"So what you're telling me is we're not even going to finish this segment by making the damn cake?"

He pulls me into an uncomfortable side embrace.

"I KNOW, IT'S HEARTBREAKING. BUT YOU SHOULD'VE MOVED FASTER AT THE START OF ALL THIS."

"I have a fear of heights!"

"NOW WE'LL JUST HAVE TO LIVE WITH NOT KNOWING HOW GOOD THE CAKE COULD'VE BEEN."

"Don't ignore me."

"OR HOW MUCH MORE DELICIOUS IT COULD BE IF EATEN OFF MY BODY."

"The fuck did you say?!"

"BUT COME ON, DARLING, I'M ONLY MESSING WITH YOU AND OUR MALICIOUS VIEWERS. HAVEN'T YOU EVER SEEN A COOKING SHOW BEFORE? I ALREADY BAKED THE CAKE AHEAD OF TIME! SO FORGET IT! BECAUSE YOU'RE NOT GETTING ANY OF IT!"

"Is the screaming in my ear necessary?"

"WOULD YOU LOOK AT THAT! RIGHT ABOUT NOW IS WHEN WE HAVE OUR COMMERCIAL BREAK! SO STAY TUNED TO THAT SCREEN AND CONTINUE WATCHING AS OUR DEAR DARLING DARES TO DART FORTH INTO DANGER ONCE MORE!"

"Can you at least tell me I don't have to do any more vent platforming?"

"SORRY, BUT I'D BE LYING IF I DID."

I start trying to swear but I end up roaring out in meek frustration.

"SEE YOU ALL AGAIN REAL SOON."

A few seconds go by and he lets me go.

"OKAY, WE DON'T HAVE MUCH TIME..."

He moves to the sink and opens the cabinets under it.

"WE HAD A DEAL. DESPITE THAT LITTLE SHOW YOU PUT ON, I AM IF ANYTHING A MONSTER OF MY WORD."

He tosses me a bag with his face on it. Taking the hint, I open it and find my missing gear. Though...no phone. I take this small victory without a fight. I'm fairly certain I know who has it anyway. That cat is so getting skinned. I equip my items and CHECK my stats.

[ HP: 40 ATK: 45 DEF: 27]

"Someday, I swear my defense will be decent, damn it!"

"ALL SET?"

I may look ridiculous with all this all but it's not like I was a supermodel before.

"Yeah, I'm good. Thank you."

"UM..."

"What?"

"I WANT TO APOLOGIZE."

I scoff.

"Forget it."

"NO. I...WHAT I DID WAS STUPID. I SKIMMED OVER THINGS AND WASN'T EXPECTING HOW YOU'D REACT. A GOOD SHOWMAN IS MORE PREPARED AND KNOWS HIS CAST BETTER. FOR THAT...I'M SORRY"

No matter the mood I might be in, I know how hard it is to swallow one's pride and admit a wrong. I just wish he wasn't such a flip-flopper because this personality switching is making it difficult to trust him fully.

"*sigh* ...I forgive you. But don't ever pull that kind of crap again. Got it? I like you monsters. I like being here. I don't want to feel bad for my kind and see THIS punishment as justified."

He nods, or what I take as the equivalent to one for a guy without a neck. With that now all said and done he once again snatches me into his arms and he blasts off like a rocket. Where to? No damn clue.

[HOTLAND: LAB]

"Well, that was disappointing. Freaky, but disappointing."

Undyne collects another bowel to enjoy.

"Not his best move. That's for sure. All that controversial fuss."

Alphys had cut the feed but was still viewing the robot and human.

"Yeah. He didn't even use those chainsaws. Such a wasted opportunity."

"Still, the way she interpreted all that from a simple can of spice...And that reaction..."

Theories were coming to Alphys.

"Definitely something to remember for future use."

Undyne takes a long slurp of ramen.

"It's a freak, Alphys. Plain and simple."

Alphys's companion's lack of imagination made her sneer.

"At least he's prolonging her activity. That provides data. And that's all that matters."

Undyne rolls her eye.

"Still...I wonder what that phone call was about?"

Alphys, being the one that sees all, knows the answer to that question. She just finds it more interesting to see if her hot fish friend can figure it out for herself. Oh, what a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive.

[Snowdin: Skeleton House in present time]

They weren't sure what they just watched. Such a strange buildup and quickly smothered show. Sure this wasn't over but no one honestly thought that second showing was going to be over in about twelve minutes. Still...The lingering questions remained when the commercials played.

"This is nerve-wracking."

"I know. But at least there's some good news. He's moving her further. She'll be done faster."

"I suppose that is true."

"OR SHE'LL BE KILLED QUICKER."

Toriel and Grillby glare at Papyrus.

"WHAT? I'M BEING REALISTIC BY SAYING THE OPTION YOU'RE IGNORING."

The glares and fire strengthen.

Papyrus takes the hint and walks away. Maybe Sans had some sort of idea and won't want to beat the shit out of him as the others do.

"you need to work on your people skills, bro."

He growls but that's it.

"i got an idea as to what happened near the end."

"REALLY?"

"yeah. i think someone tipped him off about my post there."

"YOU SURE?"

"got no other clue as to why he'd move her himself and not let her walk."

"HOW MUCH DO YOU THINK HE'LL HAVE HER SKIP?"

"who's to say? i only know what i can see from my post. and it ain't much."

"WHY DO YOU HAVE SO MANY POSTS?"

"do ya know anybody else that can teleport?"

"...GOOD POINT."

"you sound underwhelmed."

"I DON'T KNOW...I JUST DON'T SEE IT. YOU WORKING THAT MUCH? IT'S WEIRD."

"if it makes it less weird, i sell hot dogs at those stations."

"THAT...THAT MAKES MORE SENSE."

The television flickers suddenly. The commercials end and the human is back onscreen. Her exact location is odd in that there doesn't seem to be a path to leave on. There's a signpost they can't read and random cacti. Among the positives, she is sporting her equipables again and thus have her stats boosted. On the negative side...she isn't there alone for very long.