#it's actually positive i just have nowhere to express this without sounding silly i feel

[pinkysberg]

personal under the cut bc i feel weird talking about anything red dead related anywhere else whoops.

so red dead is obv very important to me. in a very. obvious way lol. it's hard to ignore. and it's something im weirdly insecure about, im not sure why. i think im embarrassed about being 25 and loving something so intensely, even if that passion is directly related to like. a cognitive difference. i just feel kind of silly. so i don't talk about it much outside of the internet BUT

i wanted to get into dating, im about to graduate soon and i'll have time so i downloaded hinge uhh. in february? i don't know. and i was like. i gotta get this red dead thing out there NOW because i don't know how to bring this up. "yea i have a very deep, passionate love for this cowboy game. so much so i run multiple social media accounts dedicated to it. :)" so all i did was include a hinge voice note warning people not to bring it up bc i have a problem. in a silly joking manner.

well, this guy bit. he immediately piqued my interest by bringing it up and admitting he hadnt played. we ended up continuing to chat generally and at some point i'd mentioned that "red dead is like my star wars" to convey the level of intense passion i have for this game. he called that endearing. it ends up coming out that i run a tiktok for the game. (he will never hear about this account) and i was so stumbley and embarrassed about it, and he's weirdly impressed by it. he ends up finding the account while sending me a tiktok and then he tells me he likes that i enjoy it so much, that its a sweet trait.

anyway, he's my boyfriend now and that's very new for me. ive been in relationships but admittedly have done primarily e dating til this point bc. i don't know autism, anyway. the point is, this has been a really big step out of my comfort zone but it's been very rewarding for me thus far.

he said he wants to play the game as well. im going to ruin his life.

[invui]

I'm so happy I found a person that writes for akuneko(╥﹏╥)

Can I get this with flure, lamli, and ammon (fun fact; ammon's my favorite♥)

When Aruji-sama kabedons them

this was pretty interesting to write actually and i enjoyed every second of it hehe, thanks for requesting!

characters: Flure, Lamli, and Ammon

Flure Garcia

Poor boy would be blushing so hard he can’t speak

He’s going to squeak if you kabedon him which is adorable in return

Definitely going to avoid eye contact and won’t move a single inch from his position

He’s basically a statue now, no words and no movement

You thought it was cute at first but you started to feel a bit bad seeing that Flure was completely defenseless in this situation

Your grip on the wall behind Flure’s back was starting to get weaker as you thought about how Flure was feeling

You soon let go of Flure, making him gasp in relief

You apologized of course which made Flure say that it was all right and that you didn’t need to apologize at all

In fact, it seemed like Flure had……. enjoyed it?

Well, he sounded sincere and was serious about what you were saying but his facial expression seemed to contradict his own words

You quietly nodded and murmured a silent okay until Flure had left your room

It was a good thing that the butlers didn’t witness what was happening in your room

If they did, that would be endless teasing for you and for Flure

Lamli Bennette

This boy would probably not be flustered considering that this man is a bit playful

As your hands and expression was strong, Lamli was just under you; minding his own business

This little clown was giggling and smiling, how?

You had no absolute idea on why Lamli was like his but this is what Lucas and Nac deal with pretty much everyday

Of course you were ought to deal with him too, sooner or later when you had first arrived at the manor

Lamli would giggle underneath you as you hover over him, with confusion covering your face

After a few minutes of playtime, Lamli would suddenly hug you out of nowhere and start to cuddle with you

His grip was surprisingly strong since you couldn’t move a single limb as you were held hostage by this little clown

You would definitely be yelping out of surprise in Lamli’s arms while he giggles without any remorse

This would go on for a while until either Lucas or Nac have to pull you out of Lamli’s arms

Ammon Lead

Flirty kiss ass comes last

He would definitely stutter and be surprised but he would literally smirk so much it makes you think if you have stunned him

There is a chance you did but Ammon isn’t going to lose so easily just because of one silly action that was done purpose

This might be inappropriate but I guess I can see him blowing a raspberry at you

Your goal might have been changed from making Ammon flustered to slapping Ammon for his behavior

But you love/like him so of course you would never do that (right?)

With the situation like this; the chance of Ammon being flustered was nearly impossible, judging from the way he’s acting

And just like Fennesz (if you have read the first one) he would literally turn you over and kabedon you out of purpose

He clearly knew what he was doing and you didn’t like it

The prideful smirk he had on his face was basically punchable

But you were very surprised from this turn of events to the point where you were speechless

You would quickly push Ammon, making him fall back, and run away as soon as possible

Ammon has trolled you once again

i hope you enjoyed reading these and i just want to apologize if this was late, im slowly taking a small break from writing so that’s the reason why my requests are closed and why the hcs are coming late ^^;

[igotbulletproof-insomnia]

Adopting Bangtan 09

01 previous

AN UNLIKELY WEDDING

You bit your lip as you stared at your phone. You had an email from Jimin and Taehyung’s mother. Song Jieun was your old coworker who you had adored, but who also tricked you into taking care of her children so that she could get married without worry. Your respect and opinion of her had gone down significantly with that move, but you… didn’t exactly understand, but you did appreciate that she gave her children to someone who could properly take care of them instead of leaving them to fend for themselves which had seemed to be her original plan.

What’s wrong?” Seokjin looked up from the video game he was playing, ignoring the cut scene he had watched a dozen times before now to focus on you. You could hear the younger boys playing in their bedroom, the sounds of legos clattering and mouth-made explosions louder than what their closed bedroom door could block off. They were sounds that had become familiar in the past six months, sounds that used to be made by one child and were nowhere near this boisterous.

“Nothing,” you shrugged while you scrolled through the email a second time and tried to sort out your feelings. Seokjin’s stare burned into your cheek and rolled your eyes. “I mean it, nothing is wrong. Just…” You could feel your face twisting into a dissatisfied expression and tried to relax it back into something more neutral. There were times when you found you could rely on the eldest of your children, and times when you thought it was better to keep things to yourself, and you weren’t sure which one this was.

“Someone emailed me,” you hedge. “I’m just trying to decide how I feel.”

“That’s your worried face,” said Seokjin. “You only make that face about work and about us. But you also whine when you’re worried about work, so it’s about us, isn’t it? Which one of the kids is failing school?”

“No one is failing school,” you laugh. “Namjoon could be doing better, but I’m certain he just doesn’t care as much as his teachers want him to. Neither does Yoongi…. You know, as a teacher myself, I should probably be more concerned.”

“You’re appropriately concerned,” Seokjin reassured you. “Why should you worry about things you can’t control? You’re just going to age faster.”

“You’re going to stop calling me old one day.”

“Lying isn’t healthy,”

“Says the kid who lied his way into adoption.”

“I took advantage of my situation. That’s not lying, that’s cunning.”

“I didn’t raise you like this,” you say, standing.

“No, but that’s kind of the point, isn’t it? I’m raising myself, six kids, and my guardian. I can’t tell if I’m doing a piss poor job or not.”

“Language, Kim Seokjin!”

“Dinner, seonsaengnim!” he shouted back. The problem was, you aren’t sure if he successfully distracted you from your concerns or if you successfully distracted him from you.

===

Song Jieun’s email bothered you intermittently throughout the week. It’s not like you forgot she existed. You’ve received a hefty sum into your bank account every month for taking care of the boys, enough to make you wonder exactly why her new husband didn’t want to take care of them when he would probably be spending a lot less money if they were under his own roof. So no, Song Jieun wasn’t someone you forgot existed unlike like you could the rest of your kids’ parents, she just… wasn’t relevant. So it bothered you that she was trying to make herself relevant now, after six months of silence.

“You’re doing the thing again,” Seokjin poked your face. You startled, unaware that he had approached, but thankfully kept your coffee mug full. “What are you so worried about?”

“Nothing,” you say for the umpteenth time that week. “I’m not worried about anything.”

“You’ve been ‘not-worried’ since last Thursday,” Seokjin argued.

“So then why do you keep asking me what’s wrong?” You didn’t have to turn to see the weighted stare he gave you, you could feel it. That was the thing about your kids, all of them. They had a way of making you feel like you were the one in trouble, you were the one being raised instead of the other way around. Some days you were convinced that they were the ones keeping you around, explicitly for financial reasons.

“If you’re just going to insist on being stubborn,” Seokjin sighed. He poured two cups of coffee, one for himself and one for Yoongi, and turned the kettle on for Namjoon. The other boys would be zombie-walking their way into the kitchen for breakfast soon, so you and Seokjin set to work preparing leftovers from dinner a few nights ago.

“Song Jieun wants to visit the boys,” after a long, silent moment, you finally admit your concern. The kettle was puffing it’s pre-whistle warning, so you turned it off, sitting the pot on its wicker table mat until Namjoon made his way to the table.

“Who’s Song Jieun?” asked Seokjin. “Which boy? Not me, right?”

“No, of course not you, silly. You won’t even tell me your parents’ names. How am I supposed to know when they come to visit?”

“Trust me, they won’t,” Seokjin’s tone left no room for discussion, just a sad or regretful sort of resentment.

“If you say so,” you shrugged off your curiosity, familiar with how closed-off this kid got when it came to his home life before you. “Song Jieun is Taehyung’s mom and Jimin’s stepmom.”

“The coworker who tricked you into adopting them?”

“That’s what you got out of that?”

“Isn’t that what happened?”

“That’s besides the point,”

“That is the point.”

“What’s what point?” Namjoon shuffled into the kitchen.

“Our guardian is trying to decide if the twins should see their mother.” Seokjin answered.

“That’s not what I said,”

“That’s what you were going to say.”

“Everyone else gets nice, obedient, adoring children,” you grumbled. “I get sassy monsters who boss me around.”

“You raised us like this,” Namjoon said absently.

“I did not, you raised yourselves.”

“Same thing,” both boys speak in unison.

“I’m giving you two away.”

“Good luck living with Yoongi without us,” Seokjin shrugged. “You’ll be begging me to come back by the end of the week.”

“Joke’s on you, this is the end of the week.”

“My point still stands.”

“Okay, I quit, I won’t win this one,” you literally throw your hands in the air.”

“Good,” Jin grins at you in that cheeky way he’s mastered, taunting you.

“So what’s this about the twin’s mom though?” asked Namjoon. “I thought she…” he trailed off, but you understood what he was saying, or rather, what he didn’t want to say. I thought she didn’t want them.

“Yes and no,” you say. “She just… it’s… not exactly complicated, not if I were in her position, but… let’s just say, some people are stupid and not everyone has the same priorities.”

“Song Jieun chose to make herself happy over taking care of her kids?” Seokjin translated. “She didn’t want to take them to live with her new husband?”

“More or less,” You agree, taking note of the bitterness in his tone.

“You’re not allowed to get married,” Namjoon mumbled from the table.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re not allowed to leave us or get rid of us because you want to be married,” Namjoon repeated. He’s obviously still half asleep from the way he lays his head down in his arms, but your heart clenches just a little bit from the casual desperation he speaks with.

“If I were to get married,” you said, “my future spouse would know that they come in eighth place anyway. I’m not getting rid of you, even your original parents would have to fight me. God will have to fight me.”

“But you’re still not allowed,” said Namjoon.

“Drink your tea, you’re talking crazy,” said Seokjin. “Our guardian will have to actually date first, and we all know that won’t happen.”

“The disrespect, I tell you!”

It’s after breakfast and during the chaos of getting seven young boys dressed and prepared for school when Seokjin knocks on your bedroom door frame, wearing an anxious expression.

“... Can I talk to you for a moment?”

“What’s up?” you asked. Seokjin walked fully into the room and closed the door.

“About… the twins? I… I don’t know what you’re thinking about, and that’s valid, but… I think you should maybe let them see her?” Seokjin didn’t fidget like the rest of the kids did. He leaned against the door, arms crossed and focused his eyes fully on you. It was moments like these when you realized exactly how mature your eldest was, and you recognized that most of it wasn’t because of you. Namjoon and Yoongi were you. Seokjin had probably been raising himself for longer than he’s lived with you.

“Okay,” you said.

“I just… if it was me, I would want to know that she still cared, right? And she does, I guess. You mentioned that she sends them money, and she wrote you a letter asking forgiveness, so that has to mean something. I just don’t want them feeling abandoned like the rest of us. Not if they don’t have to.”

“I’m just worried that it will confuse them even more,” you admitted. “It took weeks before Jimin would talk to us openly. Jieun-ssi isn’t going to stay. She’ll come for an afternoon or a day, take the kids out, spoil them, and then bring them back here, and they’ll both be wondering why. And I don’t know how to answer that question.”

“With the truth, obviously,” Seokjin rolled his eyes. “You’re always straight-forward with us. Why should this be any different?” Because they’re younger than you were. Because they were given away, not abandoned. Because their parent still cares from a distance. Because I don’t like making you all cry. Because picking up pieces has never been fun.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” you said instead. “I’ll think about it.”

“Okay,” Seokjin nodded, and you can see him visibly deflate, relieved to be finished with the conversation. “That’s all I wanted to say. Don’t forget to take your lunch with you.”

“Make sure all the kids have theirs,” you countered.

“It’s funny because you thought I didn’t already do that,”

“I love you, Kim Seokjin,” was your response.

“I love you too, I guess.”

=======

Your talk with Seokjin gave you a new perspective, but you still felt apprehensive about everything. You just didn’t like the idea of hurting Jimin and Taehyung any more than they already have been. What type of guardian would you be if you just let them walk back into heartbreak? What if this was just a one-time visit and Song Jieun never came to see her children again? What do you do when the boys ask to see her again? You had been lucky that you only had to have one conversation about not being able to take the boys to see their mother in the last six months, but if Jieun could make the time and the trip to come visit, then what will be your excuse now? What if this visit was actually a prelude to taking the boys back home with her?

Oh.

Huh.

So that was the real problem then. You didn’t want the boys to leave you. As much as you groaned and complained about taking in so many kids -- usually just to yourself, but sometimes your stress got the better of you in front of the kids -- you loved them. Each one of them, you loved and adored them and the thought of any of them leaving you or being taken away hurt. Not only that, but where in the hell would any of those parents get off, what right did any of them have to come to you and even fix their mouths to ask you for “their” kid back? You had words prepared for each and every so-called “parent” of all seven of your boys, copies of your lost child police reports, drafts of parental rights transfer papers, the phone number for several NCPA lawyers, and a fist just itching to make contact.

But what if Taehyung and Jimin preferred to be with Jieun anyway? She is their mother. She raised them for years, even if she was Jimin’s stepmother. You’ve only had the “twins” as you and the older boys had taken to calling them, for six months. Why would they want to stay with you?

“Okay, but she didn’t say she wants to take the kids,” you told yourself against the slew of depressing thoughts. You retrieved your phone from your pocket and opened your emails. Finally pressed reply. “She just wants to visit. A visit is… safe. It’ll be okay.”

Probably.

=======

Later that day you received a new email. Song Jieun will be in town that weekend. Tomorrow.

It took a lot of effort for you not to swear and make plans to take the kids out of town.

=======

Song Jieun was pretty. She wasn’t particularly tall or “skinny” like what TV liked to portray, but she was hippy and had a cute face and short hair that she curled most days. She favored dresses with blazers or oversized sweaters and skinny jeans, with pale makeup and dark pink lipsticks. It was easy to pick her out at the cafe she asked to meet at. She sat alone off to the side, a coffee already in front of her, but two plates with fruit-decorated cakes were also placed nearby. You considered telling her that the boys weren’t allowed any sweets right now. It wouldn’t have been a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth either. They weren’t allowed sweet things like cakes until after dinner and only when they behaved well. Still, you decided that was just your frustration and jealousy talking. You didn’t want to punish the two boys because of their mother, so you bite your tongue and hold your bitterness and let it go.

“Jieun-ssi,” you greet uselessly, as the moment Taehyung and JImin saw her they sprinted across the room to tackle the woman in hugs. Jieun’s smile stretched across her face and she cooed and made cute noises as she greeted her sons in return. You felt something creep in your chest that felt a lot like jealousy. But you weren’t jealous. You couldn’t be. You just hugged them this morning when they tried to tickle you awake. You held both of their hands from your house to the cafe. You had nothing to be jealous of, they were your kids now.

“How have you been?” Jieun asked when you sat down across from her. Jimin and Taehyung were already seated and digging into the cakes she bought for them. You barely had a chance to answer before your chatterbox was rattling off every activity he’s done for the last six months to his mother. Jimin grinned and threw in his two-cent’s worth every few minutes, but generally let Taehyung carry the conversation for him. And you, in spite of all of the emotions pressing on your chest and clouding your judgement and making you really, really want to shake Song Jieun, you enjoy yourself. You watch your boys -- your boys -- smile and chatter and sing and show off for their mother. You wonder if they’ll be okay going home, if you’ll have tears to clean up later, or arguments to break up, or just pieces to sort out and glue, but right now the kids are happy, and right now, that’s what you’ll enjoy.

=======

Taehyung climbed into your bed that night. He should have been asleep an hour ago at least, you’re sure, but he’s seemed to have a lot on his mind since this afternoon, and you’ve been letting the kid have his own space to figure out his thoughts. As hyper as he normally is, Taehyung is also prone to moments where he just sits and fiddles and thinks and you’ve learned that it doesn’t do any good to bother him about it.

“Can’t sleep?” Taehyung shook his head as he slid across the blankets to bury his face into your shirt. You curled an arm around his shoulders and held him close.

“Mommy…” Taehyung started and trailed off. “Is Mommy happy without me?”

It felt like your heart stopped with the words of his question, but you continued to brush his hair with your fingers. It was a difficult question to answer. You wanted to be honest, but you also didn’t want to hurt him. Unfortunately, there weren’t too many ways to answer without hurting Taehyung one way or another.

“What do you mean?” Taehyung was quiet for another short moment before he spoke again.

“Mommy… didn’t seem sad. And she said she’ll see us another time. And… she got married, but she didn’t want to keep me and Jiminie… So I started wondering… is she happy now? Happier than she was before when it was just me and her and Jiminie? Did we -- I don’t think -- I --” And the kid seemed to break then, all of the tears that hadn’t been shed for six months seeming to finally culminate into an emotional outburst. You shushed him, holding him just a little more tightly, and the fingers in his hair moved down to stroke his back. This was the thing you had wanted to avoid, and while part of you felt satisfied to be right, most of you just fought your own tears. It hurt to see one of your kids so hurt. You aren’t a stranger to crying children, but this emotional distress was something that never got better. You thought that maybe Jieun had talked to the boys beforehand, maybe Taehyung had dealt with his emotions before he came to live with you and that was why he seemed so well-adjusted. Clearly, Taehyung had just been living in denial, or maybe with the belief that his mother would come back for him “later,” that you were only a temporary home.

“This isn’t your fault, Taetae,” you murmured. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Sometimes… sometimes adults make hard decisions. We think we’re doing the right thing and… sometimes it’s hard to see if we’ve made the right choice or not.” You sighed, picking through your words super carefully. “I think… I think that your mother made what she thought was the best decision for both herself and for you and Jimin. She believed she would be happy with her new husband. But she did not believe you and Jiminie would be happy. So she put you somewhere that you could be. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah, but I’m still sad,” Taehyung cried harder.

“I know,” you said, “and that’s okay. I would be sad too.”

“I just want my mommy back,”

“I know.”

“I don’t want you to get married,” Taehyung said suddenly, long after his sobs had calmed down. Tears still fell, but slowly now. “I don’t want you to send me away too.”

“If you listen to your Jinnie-hyung, he says that won’t happen because I don’t date anyway.”

“Mommy didn’t date for a long time… and then she did. And then she got married.”

“I won’t get rid of you even if I did get married, Taetae,” you told him.

“You’re still not allowed to get married,” he argued. “Or date. You have to be mine forever and ever, okay?”

“No matter what, I will be yours forever and ever,” you agreed.

“Can I sleep here tonight?” Taehyung asked. “I'm comfy and you make me not sad.”

“Of course,” you said. “You’re comfy like a teddy bear, I don’t want you to go.”

=======

In the morning, Taehyung was bouncing off the walls, screaming as he chased Jungkook around the house. Jimin was curled into a corner of the sofa, giggling while he watched his brothers play and encouraging Taehyung in his antics. You could hardly tell that Taehyung had an emotional breakdown the previous night. You knew he was far from being “over” his feelings about his mother, he was only eight and the feelings were complicated. But he was happy for now and that made you happy. You’ll deal with the noise and the chaos and shout at the kids yet again about running inside where things were breakable including themselves as long as they kept smiling.

Surprisingly, it was Namjoon who came knocking at your door after bedtime that night. Similar to Taehyung, he didn’t speak or ask permission, just closed the door behind him and slid into your bed. Buried himself beneath the blankets and stuck his head beneath the pillow and tucked his gangly limbs into a ball. You were familiar with these moods, but haven’t seen one in years, not since you took in Seokjin. So you finished the chapter you had been reading, turned off the light, and sank down to lay your head on your pillows. Similar to Taehyung, Namjoon would speak when he was ready, when he found the right words to use to express his feelings.

“You really won’t get married, right?” Namjoon whispered beneath the pillow next to you. His voice was heavily muffled, but you’d been waiting for him to speak for some time. You just didn’t expect for him to continue a joke conversation from several days ago.

“What’s wrong with me getting married?” you asked.

“If you get married, you’ll have to get rid of us.”

“There is no world where I will give up any of you just to get married, Namjoon.”

“But that’s what happens, isn’t it?” said Namjoon. “Adults… if they aren’t married, but they have kids… they get rid of them so that they can date. Because kids get in the way. Because it’s stupid to take care of other people’s kids.”

“Why does it sound like you just called me stupid?” Your sarcasm probably wasn’t appropriate for the moment, but the words slipped before you thought about it.

“We’re really lucky to have you, we know that,” said Namjoon. “But that just means --”

“Namjoon, I’m going to stop you right there,” you cut him off before he finishes. You remove the pillow from his face so that he can hear you clearly, and card your fingers through his hair. “I didn’t create any of you. I didn’t ask for any of you. But I have you. And I love you. I adore you. I will tear apart skies, drain oceans, and vanquish God if it will keep you all safe and happy, okay? If your parents ever come back for you, I will press charges against them and make it so that they can never look at you, let alone hurt you ever again, do you understand me, Kim Namjoon? You and Yoongi and Jungkook and Seokjin and Hoseok and Taehyung and Jimin, you’re all mine. You’re my kids, all seven of you, and I will be damned if any lover or spouse, or anything at all, comes between me and you. I don’t say that because it sounds good -- although seriously, you have to admit that this is one of my better speeches,” -- at that, Namjoon giggled, the noise muted and soft, but a win was a win -- “but I say these things because I mean them. I will put a brick in the hospital for you, Joonie.” You hesitate, but continue anyway. “If it weren’t for you, I may have left the country at the end of that year. Teaching is fun, but I wasn’t super happy before. But then you asked me to take you home and you were so cute that I got attached almost immediately. I didn’t want to take you to the police and have them send you to your parents. I liked having someone to come home to. I liked taking care of you. Most people go get a pet or a lover when they’re feeling lonely, but here’s me, collecting kids like you’re pokemon cards.”

“No one collects pokemon cards anymore,”

“What, is Yu-Gi-Oh back in style?”

“What even is that?”

“The coolest card game ever. Period.” Namjoon laughs again, and you feel accomplished.

“It’s not that cool if I’ve never heard of it,” Namjoon argues.

“Joonie. I love you. But even I know you aren’t the coolest among your classmates.”

“I’m the coolest out of all my friends!”

“I won’t argue about that. I’m also sure that in your group of friends, ‘coolest’ means ‘knows the biggest words and has the best grades.’”

“You’re just jealous,”

“Absolutely. I wish I knew as many words as you do. Imagine how much fun I’d have fussing at you kids in Smart People language!”

“Why are you like this?”

“Please, other kids wish they had someone as cool as me taking care of them.”

Namjoon cuddled closer to you in the bed, laying his head on your shoulder and gripping your pajama shirt. You spend a few minutes massaging his scalp, a soothing gesture for you just as much as it is for him. After a few minutes, you begin drifting off, believing Namjoon is on the verge of sleep as well.

“Are you really okay?” he asks. “With taking care of all of us? You don’t… want to go back home?”

“I am home, silly,” you flick the side of his head gently. “I love you. And even if I wanted to go back to my home country, don’t think I won’t take each one of you with me. I said you’re mine. I mean it.”

“Okay.”

And it’s not that you don’t believe him, but you know your kid. You know he internalizes things and finds convoluted ways to take blame for other peoples’ problems, including your own. You know it will be a while yet before he truly accepts and believes you when you say you want to keep him and enjoy taking care of him. But you also know that he wants to believe you and he’s trying. You idly wonder if you’ll have to have some sort of discussion in the morning, an announcement over breakfast that no children will be displaced in the event of an unlikely wedding. You dismiss the thought, deciding it was more likely to incite panic and give you a headache more than anything else.

To find more of my child-bangtan fics, select the "Collecting Strays" tag at the bottom of this page ^_^

[crystalninjaphoenix]

Kindness & Kidnapping

A JSE Fanfic

I’ve written something that’s less than 6000 words for the first time in a year, whoo! I was planning to include more plot but after a while I realized there was too much to put into one chapter so I broke it into two. And now, this chapter is short, but it has some important and...interesting developments. Let’s just say, Anti makes his move. I don’t know what to say beyond that, so just read on ;)

You can find the other stories under the pw timeline tag!

It was a bright morning outside, but Chase didn’t know that. He was inside, sitting at a hastily-done computer setup inside his closet. It was cramped and dark and honestly kind of dusty. But he hadn’t wanted to keep this setup out in the open. Because this was the computer he’d been using to access Anti’s website, and if he kept it out in any other room of the house, he knew he’d keep glancing towards the windows and doors, waiting for something to happen.

Though...nothing had happened in the past week or so since he’d first found the website. He’d told the police about it, contacting that detective, Nix, who was in charge of the search for Jackie and JJ. Nix had been really appreciative, saying that this was a helpful clue and the police would be right on it, but he’d warned Chase to not go looking at any websites like this again. “These are dangerous,” he’d said. “And many of them use trackers to gather information or worse.”

Yet here he was. First thing in the morning. Staring at a creepy hitman website while sitting in his closet.

Part of his mind was yelling at him to stop. That even though he’d waited a few days before accessing the site again, that didn’t mean anything. This was dangerous. But...he couldn’t help it. This was the first time he felt like he was doing something, like he was actually helping the search for his friends. So, he stayed there.

His study of the website mostly consisted of scrolling through the anonymous reviews and trying to find ways to look at the source code. Chase...wasn’t that good with computers. Despite the fact that recording videos and putting them on the Internet was his job. He’d basically absorbed all his knowledge from Jack and his editor and only knew how to do things like editing because of that. Anything beyond what was required for YouTube was a mystery to him. But he was trying.

His phone vibrated in his pocket, and he gasped, then felt silly. It was just a text notification. Sighing at his own jumpiness, he took out his phone and looked at the message on the screen. It was from Marvin. Hey do you know any quick ways to get food? Other than ordering.

Oh? Chase responded. Are you out of bed this early? Thats a 1st. And he didn’t just mean because Marvin was having trouble getting out of bed recently. Marvin never woke up before ten, even before JJ disappeared, so this was strange.

Luna was yelling at me because i forgot to fill her bowl last night and i couldnt deal with it anymore so i got up and thought i might as well get breakfast.

Thats great bro. As for food I bought you some microwave mac n cheese and noodles.

Marvin instantly replied, I’m not eating fucking noodles for breakfast. That’s weird.

Chase laughed a bit. Sorry, Marv. I know your sense of order is a big thing for you, but sometimes you need exceptions.

This time, the reply was slow. The typing bubbles appeared and disappeared a couple times before finally: i just cant. maybe another time.

Ah. Of course, even if he was out of bed, Marvin was still struggling. Chase thought for a moment, then said, Alright, Marvin. No problem. How bout toast and butter? It takes five to ten minutes depending on how much you want it burnt. That was a frequent go-to for him. I know u have bread and butter, too.

Alright. Thanks.

No problem. Chase paused, then added, Hey I was gonna go visit Jack again later today. Do u think youd be up for coming with?

Another long pause. I dunno. Ask me again when it’s closer to time.

Got it. And with that, Chase set his phone down and returned his attention to the website.

About an hour later, he gave up. He couldn’t find any clues at all, and reading this was really starting to get to him. Carefully standing up, so as to not knock over the computer setup in the tiny closet, he turned off the monitor and CPU, then edged around to the closet door. He hesitated, feeling uneasy anxiety rolling in his stomach, then slowly opened the door.

Nobody was outside. Well, of course not. He took a deep breath, and stepped out into the hallway. It was time to get ready for the day.

But still, that anxiety followed him. And he couldn’t help but remember the notice that Anti had put at the top of the website. Something about business being closed until something was “taken care of.” That just...sounded very bad. And Chase couldn’t help but think about what might be happening to Jameson and Jackie.

—————— 

Nearly a month had passed since Anti had taken JJ. For nearly a month, Jameson had been stuck in this room with Jackie. And with no means of escape that he could see. He’d looked, of course. But even with Jackie’s help, they couldn’t find a way out of the room. The closest thing he could think of was somehow unscrewing the door hinges, and he’d actually spent about a week trying to do that, but without any tools, there was no way those hinges would budge.

The only opportunity that he could see was when Anti visited, which he did often. But even that would be difficult to pull off. Jameson and Jackie might have numbers on their side, but Jackie was pretty weak after almost a year of captivity, and JJ had never been that athletic. Still, he was starting to consider it. Maybe Anti wouldn’t be expecting it, if he could just convince Jackie that they could do it, and if they could find an opportunity...

But even if they were going to try, today would not be the day. Anti had come into the room for one of his visits, which were becoming worryingly frequent, and Jackie had decided to hide in the attached bathroom. Jameson refused to look at Anti, in the vain hope that he’d go away if he didn’t engage.

“Jamie.” Anti pulled a chair away from the table, and then indicated the one across from him. “Come s...sit down.”

Jameson shook his head. He folded his arms, and stayed where he was, standing next to the bunk bed.

Anti stared at him for a while, then sat down. It didn’t ease the tension at all. For some reason, Jameson still felt like he was looming over him. “Alright. F-fine.” He paused. Waiting. Watching him with his mismatched eyes. Today, the fake one was brown, not green. Odd, but it didn’t lessen the intensity of his gaze.

After a few silent moments, Jameson couldn’t take it anymore. He slowly walked over to the table and sat down. God damn it. Why was just the silence enough to get him to respond?

“Ah, there we are.” Anti smiled. “About time. You’re always so...so tense, Jamie, when you really shouldn’t be. I won’t h-hurt you.”

What do you want this time? Jameson signed stiffly.

“Why do you keep asking that? I don’t want...anything, I just want to...talk.” Anti leaned back in the chair. “I don’t understand th-this. You’re so...different. And I’m trying, you know. Know. You know—I know, by now, that this wasn’t the best starting point. But I’m trying to...to get everything back to the way it was. You want that, don’t you?” His voice was soft, like he was talking to an easily startled animal. Or a child.

No, I don’t. Jameson said firmly. I don’t want everything to go back to how it was, because back then, you were making me help you throw bodies in the river.

“That was a mistake, okay? Oka-ay?” Anti sighed. “I shouldn’t...should never have gotten you involved in all this. So, I’m not going to, ever again.”

Jameson laughed. You’re a bit late for that! Maybe you should’ve thought of that before you kidnapped me!

“That was another mistake, and I’m sorry that you f-f-feel I was out of line. I can see what you...what you mean. But you’d never talk to me otherwise, let alone go anywhere with me.” Anti’s fingers tapped an irregular rhythm on the table. “But I can pr-promise you, no more dead bodies. Ever. Ever again. You’ll be safe.”

He sounded genuine, and JJ had to admit that at least there was still a part of him that cared about—no! Jameson stiffened and pushed away that softening feeling. It didn’t change any of this. Anti still abducted him, and he was willing to bet that ‘safe’ to Anti wasn’t the same as ‘safe’ to him. It would be more of this, most likely. Trapped inside, unable to go anywhere, always under Anti’s watchful eye. Why was he even continuing this conversation? Jameson balled up his hands and shoved them under his arms, physically preventing him from saying anything more.

Anti’s expression shifted slightly. “You’re being so difficult, my god. We’ve been doing this for a-a-a month and gotten nowhere. If you would just li-listen, we could go—past—move past this.” The tapping rhythm increased slightly, nails on wood. “But alright—okay. Fine. Yes. I-I-I have a pro—” And then the tapping stopped. Anti’s eyes suddenly widened. “Oh. That’s it.”

Jameson leaned back a bit, waiting for something. Those last words sounded like a threat. But—

Out of nowhere, Anti slumped forward onto the table. JJ gasped and stood up. In an instant, he was moving automatically, rolling Anti’s head to the side and looking for anything dangerous nearby. There was nothing. Could he breathe? Was this a good position, or should he move him? He should’ve recognized it, Anti was having difficulty with his words, he knew that was a sign—Wait, the watch. The watch he was wearing around his neck, the chain it was on had tightened a bit. JJ grabbed the chain and adjusted it so it was more loose.

A few seconds later, Anti gasped, and pushed JJ away. He stepped back.

“I...fuck.” Anti blinked, eyes glancing around the room. For a moment, he was confused. JJ could see the recognition slowly fade back into his expression. “Thwshnnbad.”

JJ watched anxiously. For a moment, he glanced over towards the door. But...he just couldn’t. Not now. Maybe he was too nice, but it just felt cruel to try and leave after that.

Anti took a few deep breaths, then looked over at JJ. “You helped.”

Jameson hesitated, then nodded.

“Hmm.” Anti didn’t say anything, but there was a look on his face that made Jameson squirm a bit. Almost smug. Almost. There was a fair share of gratitude that prevented it from being fully self-satisfied. Anti reached for his pocket, and after a few tries, pulled out his phone. “That was...not that long?”

Just a few seconds. Maybe fifteen or so, JJ said. No twitching or jerking. 

Nodding, Anti tapped on his phone for a bit. “It’s...been a while,” he said quietly. “They’re not that bad anymore, you know.”

Unsure what to say, Jameson just nodded again.

A few moments later, Anti took a deep breath, and returned his phone to his pocket. “Anyway. As...I was saying. I have a proposal.”

Immediately, all Jameson’s sympathy was gone, replaced by cold fear. What is it? he asked warily.

Anti didn’t answer for a bit. Instead, he reached inside his jacket, and pulled out a small keycard. “Do you know what this is?”

A card? Like...for a hotel?

“No, not for a hotel.” Anti smiled a bit. “Though I guess...it’s sort of like it.” His eyes darted towards the bathroom door, slightly ajar. “He’s been telling you about what happened. With him and the doctor.” It wasn’t a question. So Jameson didn’t answer. But he didn’t have to. “Did you ever meet that doctor?”

Jameson started to shake his head, then reconsidered. Once, he said. He thought I was you.

“We do look similar. Even more so than all these...these doppelgangers do to each other.” Anti tried to twirl the keycard around his fingers, but failed. It fell to the table, and he quickly picked it up again. “So, you only met him once. Hmm...I expected you to interact with him more. You’re part of this...this friend group now. I thought, surely, they’d introduce you to each other. Well, I guess they tried. I’m assuming it didn’t go well.” He paused. “But still. You’re a good person, Jamie.”

What are you saying? Jameson almost didn’t want to ask.

“You wouldn’t want anything to happen to him, right?”

Anti fell silent, but Jameson didn’t dare to answer. He couldn’t. 

“This keycard happens to give me...access to the hospital where he’s staying,” Anti continued. “I’ve already been there. I know how to get him out.”

Don’t hurt him, Jameson said, all color gone from his face. Please.

“That depends on you. Well, and our friend in there.” Anti indicated the bathroom door again. “Originally, I was going to use him, but then I thought, that didn’t stop that doctor woman from leaving. But he might try to leave himself, especially with the two of you...here. Together. So I thought I’d use something that’ll affect both of you.”

He hasn’t done anything to you. Leave him alone.

“That doesn’t mean he’ll never do anything,” Anti suddenly snapped. “The cops know I exist now. It’s only a matter of time before they start to ask him questions.” The anger drained away. Now his face was still, unreadable. “Besides, that didn’t stop me before.”

Why did you even take him in the first place? Jameson asked. Why? It wasn't for your...work. All of this could’ve been avoided.

“I was...curious. He thought I was his friend Jack, you know. When I ran into him that night. And I thought to myself, this man is clearly delusional. But I figured it would be easier to play along. After he realized what happened, he explained his whole condition to me, and I wondered. I wondered how I could use that.” Anti’s smile was sharp. “It’s not every day an opportunity like that runs into you on the street.”

Jameson backed away, horrified. Too late, Anti noticed his reaction. And for a moment, he looked hurt. Then angry. Sad. And finally, determined. “Think about what I said.” He stood up, and headed towards the door. For a moment, Jameson considered following him. But he hesitated for a second too long, and Anti was gone, the door locked behind him.

The room was silent. Jameson stood there for what felt like forever. Then he moved, walking towards the bathroom. He slowly pushed open the door, peering inside. “Hmm?” he hummed.

“Down here.” Jackie was sitting on the tile floor, up against the shower in the corner of the room. The bathroom was sparse and small, containing only the necessities of a toilet, sink, and shower, along with a bonus medicine cabinet that was empty. There was nowhere to sit except the floor.

JJ stepped inside. Did you hear all of that?

Jackie nodded silently. His hands were covering his head, fingers digging into his scalp. Tears threatened to spill out of his eyes, and judging by the tracks, a few already had. “H-he can’t—Schneep is going to—he won’t be able to—”

It’s going to be fine, JJ said, kneeling next to him. We won’t let anything happen to him.

“The—the only way to make sure of that is—but you can’t—you could get away if you—but not if he’s—”

It’s going to be fine, Jameson repeated uncertainly. I’ll make sure that it’ll work out. Maybe I can get Anti to listen to me. We can find a way. The police would notice Henrik disappearing, they’ll find us.

Jackie choked on a sob. He pulled his knees up to his chest and folded his arms on top of them. “They haven’t,” he said quietly. “They’re...not going to.” And he buried his face in his arms, shoulders shaking. 

Jameson didn’t have anything to say to that. All he could do was stay close, and hold Jackie tight as he cried.

—————— 

It was a lovely day outside. For late-November-near-December, that is. Though the sun shone bright in a cloudless sky, there was still a chill to the air that forced people to wear jackets, or even coats. But Schneep didn’t mind. He hadn’t been outside in so long that anything would feel refreshing.

Silver Hills had itself a back garden where some patients could spend time. It was fenced in, for safety, but it was still quite large. Dr. Laurens had told him the news at the end of yesterday’s session: she’d gotten approval for some supervised time outside. Schneep had been hesitant at first. Some of his old paranoia and fear resurfacing. When he’d been with Anti, he hadn’t been allowed out without permission. And even when he had permission, Anti always found a way to keep an eye on him, either via cameras and GPS or by accompanying him himself. What if—what if this was another trick? A test? And if he failed the test—

No, of course not. Everything was alright here. There were other patients out and about, going on walks along the paths and stopping to look at flowers nearby. Schneep watched them from where he was sitting on one of the garden’s benches. He twirled his medical bracelet around his wrist. They’d also finally decided that he could wear clothes—besides the standard issue white shirt and pants—again. As long as they didn’t have any hard fastenings or dangly bits like strings, but that was understandable. So now the bracelet was the only sign that he was a patient here. Which was the same as everyone else. That...helped, actually. Somehow.

“Schneep? Is everything alright?”

“Hmm?” Schneep blinked, realizing he’d been gone for a while there. Oliver was nearby, as always. In this case, sitting at another bench nearby, far enough away to give Schneep his own space but close enough in case of an emergency. “Yes, I am fine. It is just a bit chilly.”

“Well...you’re not wrong there,” Oliver muttered. The orderly uniform was short-sleeved, and evidently, they weren’t allowed to wear anything over it.  His arms were covered in raised goosebumps. “Anything else?”

“No, I was just thinking.” Schneep looked down at his lap. Laurens had given him one of her notebooks and a box of markers. He’d said that he wanted to try drawing, like they’d done in one of their sessions, and she’d been encouraging. So now he was trying to draw the gardens. It was hard. He wasn’t particularly artistic, and he was pretty sure a twelve-year-old could do better than him. But it was...nice. Focusing. Grounding.

Oliver nodded, and went silent. Schneep returned to his paper. The markers were a bit annoying, since they couldn’t be erased. But it was fine. He worked around the mistakes.

Quite a bit of time passed before he was ready to go inside. A few clouds had appeared in the clear sky. Schneep stood up, closing the notebook. Oliver looked over at him again. “Ready to go?”

“Yes, I’m going back to my room.”

“Alright, then.” Oliver stood up as well. “Let’s go.”

They made their way inside, winding through the halls and then up the stairs. It was so good to have his old room back, from before that tiny, featureless room on the first floor. Apparently those rooms weren’t supposed to be lived in for that long, a fact that the lovely Dr. Newson had neglected to mention. But that was in the past. Now he had a window! And some battery-powered lamps, and a bathroom joined to the room, and more furniture than a bed and a single table. It was amazing.

“Alright, here we are.” They stopped outside Room 309 and Oliver unlocked it with a swipe of the key card. It was only ever unlocked when nobody was inside; another difference between this one and the tiny first-floor room. “You remember to push the button if you need anything?”

“Yes, yes.” There was a call button on the wall inside. Pressing it would bring an orderly to the room, hopefully within minutes. “I remember.”

“Great. I’ll be around.”

“Thank you.” Schneep opened the door, adjusting his grip on the notebook and box of markers before heading inside. “I will be seeing you, then.”

Oliver smiled a bit. “Of course. See you.” He waved a bit, then walked off, disappearing down the hallway. Schneep waved after him, pulling the room door closed shortly before he started to turn the corner.

By now, it was solidly in the afternoon, and the sun was shining its beams directly into the window. Schneep blinked in the sudden brightness, then once his eyes adjusted, he walked over to the table and put down the notebook and markers. He opened up to the page with the garden drawing and considered it. Not bad, really. For someone who wasn’t an artist. Jackie and Marvin would’ve done much better. Maybe they could have given him advice, if they were here.

It would be some time before dinner. A little over an hour, judging by the numbers on the digital clock on the table. In the meantime, he could get some reading done. The room had a shelf, and Laurens had been providing him with some books for it. He was just barely starting a new novel, but it had already sucked him in. Yes, that was a good idea. Get through a few chapters of that.

Schneep headed over to the shelf, running his fingers over the spines of the books until he reached the one he was looking for. He was just about to pull it off the shelf when there was a movement in his peripheral vision.

He stiffened instinctually. Even though he’d been seeing strange movement in his vision for years now, he’d only been uneasy about it ever since his time with Anti. But he wasn’t supposed to acknowledge it. It was better that way. Just ignore it, just ignore it, just ignore—

There were footsteps behind him. And he couldn’t help but turn around. The first thing he saw as he turned was the door to the adjoining bathroom. It was open. Hadn’t he left it closed? Could he have not closed it all the way? Then some sort of shift in the air could’ve opened it, causing the movement he saw?

No, that theory was disproved when he saw the second thing of note in the room: a man. Who hadn’t been there before. He was wearing the orderly uniform, but Schneep didn’t recognize him.

No.

No, he did recognize him.

His eyes were a different color, and his face wasn’t scarred, but there could be no mistaking him. Anti.

Schneep froze. No. No, it wasn’t real. He was just hallucinating. He’d done the same a few days ago, thought he’d seen Anti in the rec room. That couldn’t have been real. So this couldn’t be real. So it wasn’t. If he just ignored the hallucination, it couldn’t do anything to him. Slowly, he turned back around. He reached with trembling hands to take the book off the shelf.

More footstep sounds. He saw in the corner of his vision the image of Anti again. Anti was circling around him to his left, staring, watching, staring, watching—why is everyone always watching him?!—No, no, don’t let it get to him. It wasn’t real. He pulled the book off the shelf, and knocked down its two neighbors in the process, grabbing those as they fell. It was fine. Everything was fine.

He took a few deep breaths and turned away, taking the three books to an armchair near the window of the room. The image of Anti watched him, watched him with interest, curiosity. He always did that. He’d done it in the beginning, when he’d trapped Schneep in that house with him, always curious about how far he could push his limits.

“Es ist nicht real,” Schneep said to himself. Just a reminder. It couldn’t be real. How’d he get into the room? The front door hadn’t opened, and it was impossible for him to be inside beforehand. The room had been locked. Nobody could get in without unlocking it with a keycard. “Es ist nicht real. Es ist nicht real.” It was impossible.

Footstep sounds. Schneep could see the image of Anti approaching out of the corner of his vision. He didn’t turn his head, and focused on stacking the three books on the window sill. “Es ist nicht real, ist nicht real, ist nicht real, nicht real, nicht real,” he continued to whisper under his breath. “Nicht real, nicht real, nicht real.”

The image reached out and—

It grabbed his arm. 

He felt a sharp pain.

Panic flooded his system. Schneep screamed and spun around, picking up one of the books and throwing it at the man. The book connected solidly, hitting with enough force to snap the man’s head back and cause him to let go. He yelled out in pain.

No, someone was here. It wasn’t a hallucination. Someone was here and they weren’t supposed to be. Schneep ran across the room, heading for the door.

“You—!” The man recovered quickly, and ran to the door as well. He was faster, and Schneep skidded to a halt as the strange man who looked like Anti blocked the door. 

Okay, no door then. Schneep’s eyes scanned the room, and—the call button! Of course! He lunged to the side. The man saw where he was going, and pounced.

Schneep’s hand landed on the button for a split second before the man grabbed his wrist. He started to yell for help, but the man covered his mouth. “Shush,” his voice hissed as he wrapped his other arm around Schneep’s torso.

No! Schneep immediately started struggling, kicking his legs and trying to wriggle free. For a moment, his right arm pulled away, and he hit the strange man in the face. But the man was quick, and recaptured the escaped hand before it could do any damage. “Calm down, you’re going to be asleep in a few moments anyway,” the man said. “Don’t make this hard on yourself.”

That voice—it was—but it couldn’t be. It was impossible—how would he get inside? That—no. Schneep’s thoughts swirled in broken fragments, unable or unwilling to finish and come to the natural conclusion. He shook his head and continued to struggle. The man’s grip was firm. Unbreakable. It was...a familiar feeling.

There was something on his hand. Something powdery, chalky. Like...some sort of makeup. Like...something that could be used to hide blemishes. Or scars. It was on his right hand, the one he’d used to hit the man’s face.

Where Anti’s scars would be.

No...it wasn’t possible. This couldn’t be happening! It wouldn’t be—was it all a trick? All of it? Was he always planning to come back? Or maybe it was all in his head—no. He refused to believe that one.

Strangely, the longer he struggled, the slower his movement became. Sluggish...weak. And Schneep recognized these effects immediately. A sedative? But when...oh. Oh, that sharp pain he’d felt when he had grabbed him...that was a needle, wasn’t it? It was too late, wasn’t it?

Too late...yes, his vision was starting to waver. Schneep gave up on the weak escape attempts. They weren’t doing any good, anyway. Maybe he’d managed to hit the call button, and someone would be coming. Maybe...maybe they could...stop this...help him...please...please...

He looked up into the eyes of his captor and the world faded away.

[nightshade-minho]

-Blue Book- (1)

Warnings: parent death, mentions of abuse, smoking and alcohol, eventual smut.

Requested: Yes. (A loong time ago, lmao.) This was supposed to be a oneshot, but it turned out a little longer than I’d expected it to, so I decided to make it into a series.

E2L, Slow Burn, High School Au. (Half the story takes place in high school, and the other half takes place when they’re adults.)

You knew exactly why you hated Bang Christopher Chan.

It had all started in high school. A new town, and a new school. You weren’t one of those people that would be bitter about the move- you understood that your mother’s new job meant you could no longer stay in the town you grew up in. Besides, it wasn’t like you had any friends to say goodbye to- or memories you’d miss.

Your father had left your mom when you were 9. He’d met a woman ‘that he actually loved’, whatever that meant. He moved to a new country, and started taking care of a new family. Sometimes, you bitterly hoped he would abandon them as well. Sometimes, you understood why he left. You knew that it wasn’t a good idea to force yourself to stay with someone you didn’t love...but did he have to leave you behind as well? Did he not love you?

A year later, you received the news that he’d died in an accident. You weren’t even able to attend his funeral.

For the most part though, you were actually a very optimistic individual...as optimistic as you could be, without a father and an alcoholic mother. Usually, children who grew up with a single parent tend to hold grudges, and act like the whole world was at fault. However, there must have been some sort of factory error, cause you happened to gravitate towards a world-view that hid behind rose-colored lenses.

You were buzzing with excitement on your first day. You’d never really been much of an academic-oriented student, but there was a newfound need to make your mother proud...one that arose the very first time you heard your father yell at her.

You’d bought cute stationary and school supplies, determined to be a great student and one day be able to support your mother. However, you quickly realized that none of the other students appreciated it when you eagerly answered the teacher’s questions, jotting down notes. You heard murmurs every time you raised your hand, every time a teacher complimented you on your perfect assignment. Nerd. Suck-up. Dork.

It was tiring, but you somehow managed to keep up the positive facade...until a few months later, when Chan walked into your life.

***

You were sat at the cafeteria table, all alone. You sipped your banana milk and hummed along to the music playing through your earphones as you continued writing in your little navy blue book. It was more of a diary, but you occasionally used it in class. Right then, you were writing a small piece of poetry that had randomly popped into your brain, tongue sticking out in concentration as the words poured out.

A few tables away, Jisung chuckled at the sight. “Does she ever go anywhere without that stupid book?”

Hyunjin scoffed. “I don’t think so. What does she even write in it?”

“I’ve seen her write in it in class. It’s probably just some school-related shit. Nerd.” Changbin said, biting into his sandwich.

Seungmin cocked his head to the side. “Um, I doubt she’d carry around something like that with her everywhere. It must be something important.”

Felix waved a hand in front of Chan’s face. The latter had been staring at you, observing the way your face was scrunched in concentration.

Minho suddenly laughed out of nowhere, causing the seven boys to look at him. “Chan, are you into the nerd?”

Chan chuckled lightly. “As if. You’re really funny these days, aren’t you?”

Minho raised an eyebrow. “Uh huh. You know what...life’s been getting a little boring these days. I have an idea.” A smirk appeared on his face. “Chan...I dare you to get that book.”

Chan squinted in disdain. “Ha...what’s in it for me?”

Minho tapped his chin for a few minutes as he pondered. “Hmm...oh, I got it! I won’t flirt with Miyoung anymore.”

Chan looked up at that. Miyoung was an extremely pretty, popular girl that he had a crush on. However, lately, she’d been expressing a little interest in Minho. He didn’t really like her back the same way Chan did, but being the fuckboy that he is, Minho flirted back quite a lot.

Chan rolled his eyes.

“Fine. In fact, I’ll go right now!” The boys hollered, cheering him on as he got out of his chair, walking up to you.

You looked up, taking your earphones out when you felt his presence at the table that had been empty except for you. Confusion took over your face as Chan smiled warmly at you.

“Hi, Y/n. Whatcha doing?”

“Uh...nothing. Just...y-ya know...” You stuttered. You’d always found Chan attractive but he was one of those people who’d never really bothered to acknowledge your presence...until now.

“How are you today?” You asked, trying to recover.

“I’m fine, princess. Better now that I’m talking to you.” You blushed, avoiding his eyes. Chan’s gaze flitted to the book laid open in front of you. You followed his line of sight, quickly shutting your book.

“I find your...book interesting. Can I see?”

You shook your head. “I...I’m sorry, I just...” You couldn’t say anything else, words freezing up in your throat as you squeaked out a “Bye.”

You got up, chair scraping the floor as you grabbed your book and bag, leaving as fast as you could.

Chan sighed, looking back to the boys. He walked back to his previous seat, sighing as he plopped back down. “Well, there you go.”

Minho shook his head. “Welp, guess I’m just going to have to ask Miyoung out to the game-”

“NO! I’ll do it. Just...give me a few more days, okay?”

Hyunjin cleared his throat. “Okay...we’ll give you a week. that should be more than enough, right?”

The rest of the boys nodded in agreement as Chan threw his head back, sighing.

“You guys are so weird...” He rubbed his temples. “Fine.”

***

You sat on a bench, humming as you sketched the park pond. It was a bright, clear-skied day.

Meanwhile, Chan decided to cut through the park on his way to Minho’s house. But as he passed the pond, he saw you sitting on the bench, eyes widening as he remembered the bet.

Cursing, he decided to go over and talk to you. He’d been planning to talk to you tomorrow at school, but he might as well do it, since you were already here.

He approached you slowly, so as not to startle you. Hmm. You actually looked quite peaceful as your eyes ran over the ducks in the pond, smiling softly, as if you were reminiscing about something...or someone.

Chan contemplated tapping you on the shoulder, but you looked way too tranquil to disturb. After a few seconds, he cleared his throat loudly. You yelped, turning to the side and squinting at him.

“Oh...uh, hi...”

Chan smiled, before gesturing to the bench. “May I sit here?”

You nodded meekly, and he lowered himself down carefully, trying to keep a respectful distance. He noted the way your fingers protectively clutched the book tighter, sighing internally. This was going to take a while.

“Hey, calm down. I’m sorry about this morning. I was just curious.”

You avoided eye contact, staring at the pond. “It’s alright.”

“I was just wondering what you do in it. I always notice you carrying it around.”

You pondered for a moment, turning to look at him. “I...write in it, mainly. And...” You trailed off. Shaking your head, you took your backpack and shoved the book bag in. You moved to get up, but Chan’s hand shot out, grabbing your wrist and effectively stopping you. You looked down at him in confusion. He quickly let go, mumbling an apology.

“I, um...don’t leave yet, please? You seem sweet... and I’d like to get to know you more.”

You squeaked in response. Your brain was short-circuiting as you looked at the cute boy smiling softly. 

“Okay...”

You sat back down, hesitantly smiling at him as you played with your fingers. You were a little nervous...well, a lot nervous. Chan’s smile made your knees melt.

“So...what’s your deal?”

“My...deal?”

“You’re new here, right?”

“Oh yeah, I moved here recently with my mom.”

He nodded, noting the way you avoided his eyes with a frown after the sentence left his lips.

Chan groaned to himself, wondering how he would be able to get you to trust him enough. He just needed to get that book for a day...knowing the girl, it was probably just a study book like Changbin had said before. It was just a silly bet...but Chan never lost. Besides, prom was approaching in a few months and he needed Miyoung to be his before then. He needed her to be the queen to his prom king.

He glanced at his watch. Fuck.

“Sorry, Y/n. I’ve got to go now. But I’ll see you around, yeah?” He winked at you, internally smirking at the quick blush that spread across your features. 

Hmm...an idea was blooming in his head.

This might be easier than he thought.

***

Chan opened the door, wincing when the smoke hit his nostrils.

Jisung looked up, setting his controller down. “Broo, finally! What took you so long?”

“Well...I saw Y/n on the way here.”

“Y/n...?”

“The nerd, Jisung.” Minho said, holding out a beer can for Chan to take.

“Aaah.”

Chan sighed as he took the can, taking a sip before sighing. “This won’t be easy. She’s very protective of that book.”

Changbin chuckled. “Sounds exciting. I’m even more curious now.”

“Um, guys...why are we even doing this? I mean...she’s just a girl who likes writing in a diary.” Felix spoke up, softly.

Minho scoffed. “Yeah well, we’re bored. And she looks like she’ll be fun to pick on. Always going Teacher this and Teacher that.” He mocked, before turning back to Chan. “So, what are you planning on doing?”

Chan settled on one of the beanbags beside Jeongin, whose full focus was fixed on the video game, fingers fiddling with the controls.

“I kinda have an idea.” Chan says, smirking. “She seems so shy whenever I talk to her, and she’s constantly blushing. I have a feeling that she likes me.”

Changbin looked up from the screen. “I mean, this is probably the first guy who’s talked to her since she moved to town.”

“Shut up, Changbin.” 

Seungmin scoffed. “Get to the point, Chan. What’s your plan?”

“I’m going to ask her out.”

***

(None of these gifs belong to me.)

[moonknightly]

mistakes and sour grapes : modern!poe dameron x reader (four)

Word Count: 2.3k

Excerpt: “What if you gave up a job you were actually enjoying, one that you were actually good at and it turned out to be for nothing? It was silly. Silly and stupid and foolish but God, you’d been a fool for those brown eyes since you first looked into them.”

Warnings: Mentions of sex but no smut, cursing, alcohol. That’s really it.

[SERIES MASTERLIST]

Honestly? You were beyond thankful to have the following day off from work. It gave you time to think, time to stew in your own emotions and thoughts and try to make sense of them. Really, you were struggling to make sense of the situation as a whole, the confusion and the mixed emotions only bleeding over into the next morning, causing you to question if this job was even really worth it. You were so close to calling out, a headache already starting to form behind your eyes as you thought about having to go in for your shift.

You didn’t even fully understand why you were struggling so hard. You both had been drinking, it should have been easy enough to just blame it on the alcohol that had been swirling through your veins, clouding your judgement and making you act on impulse. It should’ve been as simple as that, but you knew that there was more to it, that it ran deeper than that.

It was your stupid fucking crush on him that was making it so complicated, because you knew that even sober, you still would have jumped him had he shown even an ounce of interest in getting you out of your pants. You still would’ve kissed him and you still would’ve fucked him and he still probably would’ve ended the night on the same note and that was what frustrated you more than anything. Even without the vodka induced courage and bravery, you still would’ve given yourself to him and he still would’ve been a complete asshole afterwards.

Alcohol didn’t make a person act like that. That was all Poe, you were sure of it.

You also couldn’t help but feel like you were blowing it out of proportion, turning it into something that it wasn’t. Why should have you expected him to act any different? What were you even expecting? Flowers and chocolates and romance? It was only a stupid hookup. Just because you had feelings for him didn't mean he had to return them.

And not only that, but you didn’t feel like you knew him well enough to be so irritated and upset with him. It’s not like you were friends or anything. He was your boss and you were his employee and that was it. That was all it would ever be.

Though you weren’t sure how much longer that would even last.

You kept staring at the phone in your hand over and over and over again, trying to stave off the feeling of dread that pooled in the pit of your stomach at the single sentence staring back at you.

“We need to talk.”

Four words. Four simple, straightforward words, and they made your stomach completely sick with nerves.

A conversation with Poe was the absolute last thing you wanted to have, but of course you needed to talk. This wasn’t a situation that could just be ignored, no matter how much you wished you could just shove it underneath the pile of dirty laundry in your closet and bury it forever. You wished it could be as simple as that, you really did, because while you knew you both needed to sit down and at least acknowledge that yeah, something happened between the two of you, you were dreading having to look him in the eye.

Calling out really seemed like the better option.

But you found yourself walking into the bar a half hour before your shift, trudging up the stairs as your heart raced in your chest, anxiety overtaking your every thought, every feeling.

You were sure he was going to fire you. That had to be why he wanted to speak with you, right? He was going to fire you and you’d left things fairly shitty with your last job and who knew when you would find another. You’d lose your apartment, your car, everything. You were going to have to sell everything you owned just to be able to eat and-

And you were effectively pulled from your ridiculous train of thought by the sound of your name rolling off a familiar tongue.

“You alright?”

Poe was standing in the doorway of his office, looking like he had been just about to leave and run an errand or something, Bee’s orange vest strapped securely around her and her leash in his hand. You blinked, taking a moment to try and clear the thoughts from your head, actually shaking back and forth as if it were a trick that actually worked.

“M’fine.”

His brown eyes, those stupid brown eyes of his narrowed and you could tell that he didn’t believe your words for even a second. “You look like you’re gonna be sick.”

Did you? Maybe that would be enough to get you out of this conversation, enough for him to send you home for the night so you could stew some more, let your thoughts marinate for another twenty four hours.

But you knew that would only make everything worse. It would only cause you further confusion, make your anger grow into something nasty and ugly and caustic.

You still hated the fact that you were so angry and frustrated to begin with.

“Really, Poe, I’m fine,” you said, brushing past him into his office.

The familiar smell of cigarette smoke mingling with his cologne hit your nose as soon as you were near him, but there was something else thrown into the mixture. Maybe just a hint of mint and coffee — two scents you hadn’t noticed two nights before but now filled your senses completely.

He even smelled perfect. Damn him.

You shook your head, the action subtle enough that he didn’t catch it, and you took a seat on the old couch pressed against the wall, instantly regretting it, knowing you probably should have sat in one of the chairs facing his desk. It would have been the more professional approach.

And it would have kept some distance between you both.

Poe sat on the other end of the couch, hunched over with his hands folded in his lap as he refused to let himself relax back against the cushions like you were. All you could do was stare at him, wait for him to say something, anything to break the silence that was causing nothing but anxiety to bubble up in the pit of your stomach. Being near him had never felt so uncomfortable.

It was a few minutes later when he finally shifted, angling his body to face you, his back against the side of the couch. He ran his hands over his face, taking a deep breath before exhaling. You watched as his chest rose and fell with his action, and you mentally cursed yourself for wanting to reach out and feel his skin move under the palm of your hand. You were being so ridiculous, giving yourself total whiplash and driving yourself mad. It needed to stop.

“If you’re going to fire me can you just like, do it now instead of letting it drag out?” you finally asked after realizing he still didn’t plan on saying anything.

He furrowed his eyebrows, dropping his hands away from his face so that he could actually look at you. Your stomach flipped again, and this time, you couldn’t tell if it was good or bad.

“Fire you? Why would I fire you?”

Your expression now mirrored his, your confusion evident. Recognition soon crossed his face however, and he started to hastily shake his head before you could say anything in response to his question.

“I’m not gonna fire you just because we had sex.” He sounded almost disappointed, almost wounded. Did you really think that little of him?

His tone only added to your irritation. “Can you really blame me for thinking that though?.”

A deep sigh left his lips, and he shrugged his shoulders, looking away from you again as he started to gnaw on his bottom lip. “I’m not that much of an asshole.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

Your words slipped past your lips before you even had a chance to think about them, and Poe scoffed, eyes hardening as he let his gaze flutter back to you. “I was going to apologize for being a dick the other night but now I’m not so sure I want to.”

It was your turn to sigh, and you let your head fall back and thump against the wall. You were quiet for a moment or two, the anger you had been feeling for the last two days seeming to just evaporate. At least he’d admitted that he’d been wrong in the way he acted. Maybe that was all that you needed.

“Honestly?” you mumbled, holding his eye contact as you shrugged your shoulders. “I don’t know what I was expecting, really. I mean, it would’ve been nice to hear that you’d enjoyed yourself or something.”

Poe couldn’t help but laugh, just a little bit, his expression softening significantly. “You were worried I didn’t enjoy myself?”

You shrugged again, nodding, and he only laughed again, his nose scrunching in the most adorable way that made you want to hit him just for being so fucking cute.

“Babe.” The petname just slipped out, and you could tell he didn’t even realize, didn’t even mean to use it. “Trust me. I’m almost positive I’ve never come that hard like, ever.”

“I don’t think I have either,” you admitted, averting your gaze, only a little embarrassed. Embarrassed wasn’t even the right word, it was more like you were just nervous, unsure of yourself. Unsure of where this was heading.

Poe was experiencing similar emotions apparently, because he merely sat there, staring at you for what had to be close to a full minute. He looked conflicted, like he was either choosing his words carefully or like he was just looking for the words period. It was the same expression that had been on his face as he stood between your thighs down in the basement, right before Bee had interrupted whatever small moment you had been having.

His voice was quiet when he finally did speak, his eyes maybe just a little sad but you couldn’t tell, the emotion fleeing them completely after only a second or two. “We can’t.”

Of course, you knew that. You knew there was nothing you could do about it, nowhere for it to go. It was wrong it was wrong it was wrong. You shouldn’t have had sex with him in the first place, you knew that. It would have been different had you just been two consenting adults looking for a quick fuck, it would have been different if he wasn’t your boss.

You hated that one little fact, that one little detail changed things entirely and marked the entire situation taboo, marked him off limits.

You also hated that you found yourself wanting to quit just so that, maybe, if he wanted to, you could try to continue your little escapade, maybe turn it into something more if he were at all interested. You weren’t even sure if that was something you were interested in.

Like you kept trying to tell yourself, you hardly knew a thing about the man. What if you gave up a job you were actually enjoying, one that you were actually good at and it turned out to be for nothing? It was silly. Silly and stupid and foolish but God, you’d been a fool for those brown eyes since you first looked into them.

You were pulled back to reality at the sound of his voice, one simple word rolling off his tongue though his tone was stern, making it feel more like a punch to the gut. “Don’t.”

You stayed quiet, simply blinking at him. Were you always that obvious and easy to read?

“If you keep daydreaming about something that’s not going to happen, you’re just gonna end up making yourself sick.”

He always had a way of making his words sting.

But you’d always known how to bite right back.

“I’m not daydreaming about anything. I don’t want you.”

You knew your words sounded harsh, and not only that but it was a blatant lie, but judging by the way his jaw clenched and how his nostrils started to flare, one that he believed.

“Fine. That makes things easy then.”

“I guess it does.”

Another round of silence, and when it was apparent that neither of you had anything left to say, you stood, ready to put as much distance as possible between you both even though you were working under the same roof.

Poe didn’t try to stop you, but you were near positive you heard him mutter a quick “fuck” under his breath as you walked out the door, and that might’ve been something slamming against his desk that followed but you couldn’t quite tell.

You just wanted to get your shift over with and get the hell home.

It would give you time to think, time to look at your options and seriously debate whether or not quitting was one of them. If giving up the first thing that made you genuinely happy was worth killing your crush on a man you couldn’t have.

You still couldn’t make sense of anything, still couldn’t understand. There were still so many unanswered questions and emotions you wanted to ignore, but the one thing you did realize?

Taking this job wasn’t the worst decision of your life, your biggest mistake, biggest regret.

But fucking Poe Dameron was.

[logically-asexual]

okay i'm already procrastinating and i don't plan on sleeping any time soon so here we go.

☆ ✩ my personal ranking for every season 1 Sanders Sides episode. ✩ ☆

i think it's going to be pretty similar to @dukeofonions' but let's see if i find something new to contribute haha. i see you didn't include that one about Patton in the Big Game or whatever, so i'm not including it either xd. also i think i'm going to count Accepting Anxiety as one episode only.

edit: i finished and now i dare you to drink a shot of water every time i say the word spanish or a version of the word comfort and become very well hydrated.

#16 I'm in a Disney Show

(i agree with dukeofonions here) i always forget this episode exists. it was ok in terms of being happy for real life Thomas but as a Sanders Sides episode it didn't do anything. the sides were just giving their opinions but it wasn't very funny or interesting. also i'm bitter because it made me look up the episode he was in and i didn't like it at all. i don't know if i'm too old for those Disney shows now but Thomas was literally the only good part of it, everything else was really dull and boring imo. a waste of time.

however, Logan supporting clickbait is one of the funniest things ever, and i'll never forget it.

#15 Becoming A Cartoon

i didn't hate this episode but it was just .. meh.. you know? several factors contribute to this. one, i couldn't feel much nostalgia for Butch Hartman's shows because i watched them in Spanish, and everything feels really weird when they speak English, i don't like how my old cartoons sound in English. two, it was disappointing to me because we were all desperately waiting for Plot™ and instead they give us this short episode about nothing (oh how the tables have turned now it's the other way around haha). and three, i didn't like the style of the animation :/ their faces and expressions freaked me out, Roman's douchey face still haunts me.

#14 Way Too Adult

here i'm biased because i don't like Patton much, and i didn't back when i watched the series the first time either, so this video was a little disappointingwithout the rest. also it wasn't relatable to me because i am still too young and dependent on my parents haha. but Patton is funny and it's funny to laugh at Thomas' struggling.

#13 The Dark Side of Disney

i've never been a fan of Disney movies. i actually never watched Mulan or the Lion King or Aladdin as a kid, so meh. i liked the ending, though, it was cool to see Virgil have fun and be right for once. it does make me a bit uncomfortable because the way Thomas tries too hard with Virgil's mouth movements and his low voice reminds me of a guy that had made me v uncomfortable not long before watching that video. so an icky feel overall.

#12 A New Year of Lying to Myself

this video was actually kind of fogettable to me. i had a hard time connecting the voices in the song to the characters and idk. i don't love it nor hate it, just .. neutral.

#11 My True Identity

pretty much the same opinion as dukeofonions, again. it's a good introduction and it's good that it was the beginning of it all but on its own it's not very special. i think it's awesome on Thomas to have come up with such a clever idea, like choosing the dad, the teacher and the prince and putting them together and match them with thoughts?? that fit so perfectly?? it really is just very impressive when you think about it, that it was just a random idea he had for a short 5 minute video.

#10 Taking on Anxiety

i liked this video a lot because when i watched it i had recently been a lot on tumblr, and found out through relatable posts that i had anxiety. so watching this video was really fun and it made me happy to feel so seen, specially the intro when Thomas just talks about what it's like to have Anxiety and Virgil is so smug about it.

- ★ -

okay now that those are out of the way things are going to get hard... all the following i love with all my heart so i'm going to rank them based on the smallest things.

#9 Growing Up

once more, Patton isn't my favorite. so that's why i'm putting this here, plus the echo at the end askjhsahg, but i love love this video. i remember we were waiting and oh so ready for the angst of nobody taking Patton seriously. and we received!! i love that though Roman and Logan are antagonists here, they're both so happy about Thomas wanting to have a healthy life. and i just adore the way Logan admits his mistake at the end and asks Patton directly. my heart... also aw.. the nostalgia. i remember none of us knew how to spell Patton's name and were writing it in very funny ways until Thomas and Joan told us lol.

#8 The Mind vs The Heart

when i watched this video the first times i didn't like it much, because i only had eyes for Virgil, but later i came back to it and loved it. so taking that into account i'm putting it here. logicality was the first ship i ever shipped in the show because i saw a gifset on tumblr of Patton screaming "what do you know about love?!" and Logan "apparently more than YOU" and the caption said "MARRIED", and i thought hey yeah... anyway. i love them. they're both my dads since that day.

this video is so so so relatable and i love it. Logan and Patton are so much fun arguing and i love how they compromise at the end and work together. im reconsidering.. i might move it higher? no, fine i'll leave it here.

#7 Making Some Changes

this video was absolutely hilarious. i personally couldn't see it as the Sides still once they were acted by Thomas' friends, i enjoyed it more as that bunch being silly and trying to be the sides but failing in so many ways, while sometimes nailing stuff suddenly. i really don't take this one too seriously as an episode. except Joan!Logan and Valerie!Logan, my beloved... i love how Joan acted as Logan and their voice and that they kept their ace ring on.. there's a reason i had them as my icon for so long. and Valerie looks a bit (a lot) like me with the glasses and dressed in dark colors, plus she spoke Spanish and there's .. no words to describe the joy i felt when seeing/hearing that. wait i'm getting emotional...

#6 My Personality Q&A

when i watched this Virgil was my favorite side and i didn't care much about the rest lol. when i heard his answers i related to him SO much it was scary, and also his voice is so soft and it was all very comforting. it was also when i first starting looking at Logan with more attention, because when he brought up Big Hero 6 and Fall Out Boy and said he didn't sing and would recite it like a poem? it only took a couple seconds but my brain said "me" and never went back.

now this video is a little underwhelming to watch for me, most of the appeal for me was in finding out the answers, and also watching it when we didn't know a lot about the sides. now we know more and want to know more so it's not as fun to me as it was first.

i wish so bad they'd do another one, although i know it would be more difficult with a much bigger audience, i think they can manage and i just need it. the chaos.. the energy.. they all being so savage with each other, learning little random facts about them you didn't expect.. i need it.

- ★ -

oh boy top 5 here we go. the next three are practically a tie. i can't choose.

#5 Alone on Valentines Day

i love Valerie, and the idea of this video was perfect and so perfectly excecuted. every side just giving their crazy opinions on how to woo a random stranger, i laughed SO much. first with Logan speaking simlish out of nowhere? at that point i didn't know practically anything about the sims except that it was some video game and the whiplash of Logan going AYO and the rest killed me. then when Roman whipped out that dialogue in Spanish??? my life was completed. i've never felt more happy than i did in that moment gosh. just the hilarity of Roman's drama, the shock of them speaking Spanish suddenly like that, the absolute JOY of seeing a creator i like speak (may i say) perfect Spanish, the other characters' faces after that.. never been happier.

also the conclusion was so cute. Virgil solving the whole problem without wanting to. i loved it.

#4 Am I Original

i think this video speaks for itself. it was fun to watch them all do the ideas Roman had, plus Logan and Virgil nodding at each other, (i love them so much), plus the angst at the end of Roman's perfectionism, plus Roman's just perfect name. this video has it all.

i think Thomas posted it kind of late at night and i watched it at 7am in the classroom as i waited for my classmates to arrive and the class to start. (i usually was like 40 minutes early to school due to mom’s work). i had to contain my laughter and it wasn’t easy.

#3 Losing My Motivation

i started loving this video after a while, when Logan passed Virgil in the position for my favorite side. but once he did this episode was beautiful. it's so funny and i love Logan and Patton's dynamic so much. and the video also so damn relatable in general. i felt so seen with it because they named all the problems i have when procrastinating, down to Patton's vague explanation of his feelings, it's exactly how i feel every time i want to do stuff. and the plot twist! i can hear the dramatic sound effect and see how they all turn to Logan clearly in my head, and it always makes me smile. plus there's so much Logan angst that can be dug up and overanalized. i love to watch it over and over.

#2 Accepting Anxiety

this video was perfect. everything we wanted. we knew it was coming and it delivered perfectly, better than any fanfic done in the waiting time. the week between the parts was agonizing but in a fun way somehow. i remember precisely when i was watching part 2 in my living room. i screamed. and i cried, a lot. i was feeling terrible at that time in my life and Thomas was such a comforting presence and i can't begin to describe how this episode made me feel.

and later it is always fun to rewatch with all their different reactions to being in Virgil's room, the energy of that was on point. Thomas is such a great actor and the characters where just amazingly performed. plus it gave so much to talk adn think about, the idea of the rooms, lots lots of insight into the characters, foreshadowing, so much. it's just perfect i have nothing else to say.

#1 (for purely emotional reasons, ironically) My Negative Thinking

i think Accepting Anxiety is the best episode of the season objectively but my favorite is My Negative Thinking. because i love Virgil and Logan so much and seeing them argue together was and is great. the comfort.. i can't repeat that word enough throughout this post. it's such a soft video while not being overwhelming with Patton and Roman's outbursts. just quiet (mostly) and clear and with perfectly timed humour.

Logan my beloved.. learning spanish... helping me with my own anxiety.. and their debate was so good. and the fact that they were friends i- i can't. Virgil didn't think Logan liked him and Logan told him explicitly that he did and the casual softness of it i cant even. Logan is happy that he tried.. it's just marvelous. Virgil and Logan as best friends will always be my favorite pair, and their dynamic will always be what i strive for in any relationship i might form, with both sides silently comforting each other within their own limits and realistic perspectives. so nice.

- ★ -

so yeah. that's all. thank you if you read all the way up to here. ♡ ♡ ♡

[fipindustries]

critical missive

dedicated to @cryptovexillologist

oh boy arent we in a fine pickle now?

usually i enjoy talking openly and bluntly about my opinions on whatever the last thing i read is, safe and secure in the knowledge that the author will most likely never stumble on my measily 700 followers tumblr blog, so i am free to express my opinion to my heart’s content knowing that no feelings will get hurt. 

mission critical would be no different except i talked with the author and read their acknoledgement and the AMA they did on discord after writing the story and they have endeared themselves thoroughly to me so my language will have to be neutered, at least for the first half of this excercise. afterwards things will get a bit harsher but i’ll try to rest at ease in the knowledge that we seem to be kindred spirits and i would be delighted in hearing any kind of criticism of my work either positive or negative. 

ok, enough coaching done, lets go on to what i thought of this novel.

it is a delightful romp, as i said before, the worldbuilding is understated and realistic with enough glimpses of depth and detail to suggest a much larger picture. this world feels inhabited, lived in, like it was well chewed on for long by the author before putting pen to paper. consequentially the characters that arose from this world feel like they belong, they feel like real people with real lifes. by far the strongest sections of the book were the flashbacks to their lives before the plot started. their voices, regretably, do sound very similar when interacting with each other but in their own sections the characters shine in their charm and cleverness. every time one of their flashbacks ended i was left with the intrigue and the desire to know how their particular story would continue.

the terra ignota influences are very noticeable, the world and its people carry the same kind of almost childlike positivity and innocence, the same kind of cheerful, happy go lucky trust in human progress and the great project of humanity for the future with the same sobering forlorn attitude towards the horrors of the past.

on top of that its silly, gosh in heaven it is silly. it has moments of cringe, in the best of ways. strange slapdash bits of flavor, immature non sequiturs, small indulgences from the author’s own weird interests and dumb meme humor. i do love me my awkward corners in a book, after all it is those that make something unique. there is a clear personality poking through and it is a delightful personality to meet.

i cant help but like this almost more for the context in which it was written than for the content itself, it was done during quarentine as a way to both stave off cavin fever and to process the author’s feelings regarding their gender identity. as someone who also wrote a story where i almost deliberatly tried to trick my self into breaking my own egg and who turned madly towards creative endeavors to survive the pandemic i can sympathize strongly with this. i am really happy that the author got to do this and kickstarted a project towards a big, possibly decades spanning trilogy.

so, yeah, those were the nice things i had to say, if you are content enough with that you can stop here but if you are curious to know more, well... you can

in short: it is a bit of a mess. again, im willing to be lenient, considering the way in which this was worked on, this is very much a really early first draft. the second half of this story was a very slow and very boring trudge towards a sudden end.

first, the fact that the flashbacks and the worldbuilding bits are the strongest part of this story means the actual plot itself suffers from being fairly boring and generic. “astronauts explore alien planet, find spooky stuff there” was already old hat by the 50′s. it is a plot so worn down and archetypical that it really cant survive if that is literally all you are going to do with it, and that is kind of all that this book does. i did mention moments of flavor and strange self indulgence. we needed way more of those. yes thats right, im saying that this story was not self indulgent enough. when you have such a well trodden plot such as this, worn down to the point that it becomes paint by the numbers, we need quirky, we need cringe, we need strange excess and personality. the author mentioned that they would love to see some of the weirder alexandria fan fics, well so do i! be the miracle you want to see in the world! the moments alexandria debated if wether identifying as a trilateral were amazing but they were not enough. we have a great structure here but lets put some proper meat on these bones, some proper fat and skin, some clown make up and a weird novelty hat and outrageous clown shoes. im getting carried away here, lets get back to the point.

the other problem is  there is not a clear trajectory for the story here, no well defined moment of climax and the emotional beats tend to fall a bit flat or to come out of nowhere. there are emotional crisis which i sort of missed or didnt get where they came from. the characters act in ways that are hard to relate to  that come off as stilted. the way they conduct themselves through the mission felt at times weirdly unprofessional and like it didnt follow much of a logical throughline, and when i say logical i dont meant “i wanted the characters to act hyperrational at all times” i mean i want the characters to act in ways that make human sense. ironically the one character that acted a bit too human for my tastes was the AI. alexandria is an interesting character but i feel that the place to explore that idea is not in the middle of an incredibly important mission where having your mainframe experience a crisis might not be the most practical thing in the world.

the ending was jarringly sudden, i didnt feel there was a proper resolution and finishing it off with flashbacks to the time the characters were training was... odd. i reached the last line and it felt like the story had just decided to stop without ever having reached anything that came even close to the third act. all of this can be easily fixed with some concientious editing and a complete rearrangement of the different sections of this story.

all in all a great first step in what i hope will be a long career as a writer.

[madllamamomma]

The Cave~ Part 2 (Muriel x OC)

[This chapter is actually SWF, other than profanity and adult themes. Still, no trash pandas under 18. Thanks.]

Part 2~

Swimsuits and Sandwiches~

Still a bit taken by surprise, Rhemi tilts her head thinking about what Asra just asked her. A..... beach day? She thought. That’s a little random. The last time I went to the beach was almost a year after I woke up. The sounds of the ocean waves crashing to the shore and the smells of salty air come to her mind. A faint smile twitches up in the corners of her mouth as she continues to ponder on the thought of being in the warm sun. 

“.... The beach?...” Muriel mutters warily, sounding to not be the biggest fan of that idea and he sneers a little. “Why there???”

Asra takes a step back, letting go of Rhemi, exchanging it for Julian’s hand and leans affectionately into his arm making him flounder as he lazily closes his eyes to explain. “Well, Rhemi’s Aunt Athena used to take her every year on this date.”

Rhemi glances between all her friend’s faces then back to Asra’s, tilting her head cluelessly and raising an eyebrow. “She…. We did??” Thoughtfully she glances to the wooden floor boards with her pointer finger resting on her bottom lip. She still can’t really recall any of those things.

Asra stifles a chuckle at her adorable puzzled expression. “Yeah. It was like a little tradition you both had. Athena said you liked to look for ingredients for potions, powders, things like that. She used to make a day of it, played games, packed a lunch, sometimes you even went swimming.”

“...Did you go too?”

A shrug rolls smoothly off his shoulders. “A couple of times, yeah. Especially when we were younger. It was a lot of fun.”

“Hmmmmmm.” Rhemi folds her arms, and taps her chin with her finger looking towards the shelves eyeing the large conch shell that lived there that she always admired. It was huge, about half the size of Muriel’s hand. Visualizing the crispy blue-ish green water, the smell of the salty ocean breeze, and the wonderful feeling of the hot sun beating down on her skin makes her smile even wider. “Ya know? A beach day does sound pretty nice actually. I’m sure the water would be nice, too.”

“Then what are we waiting for?? I have a good suit that I've been dying to use back at the clinic!” Julian says with a cheer tone walking towards the door.

A swimsuit….Oh no. “Ooooh wait..... I don’t think I have anything to wear anymore…”

Suddenly Julian stops dead in his tracks, spins around dramatically, his one eye lights up with pure excitement, and Rhemi starts to slightly grimace, realizing what she just said out loud. “OOOOO! We are gonna go shhhhhhoooooopppppppiiiiinnnnnngggggggggggg!!!!” He sings whimsically wiggling his hands and fingers.

“Oh noooooooooo….” Rhemi huffs unenthusiastically. She despise clothes shopping. That’s why she wore such baggy clothes (other than her tight pants and under shirt) and fastened them all together with a corset belt.

The silly Doctor quickly whisks Rhemi away out the door, Portia tailing behind with a large goofy smile. “Oooo! Ooo!! OOOO!!!! I’m coming too!! I’m coming too!! Wait for meee! I know the perfect place to find one!”

Trapped between the two, Rhemi had nowhere to go but with them. She groans, helplessly rolling her eyes knowing that there is no real way out of it, and when you think about it, shopping is a lot more tolerable with good company. “Just…. Just nothing too revealing, please!!” She murmurs. 

“YAAAYYYY!” The Devoraks cheer together merrily, leaving Muriel and Asra alone in the shop with the door wide open.

Asra snickers a bit and shouts, “Take it easy on her, you two!” And they wave without looking behind them, still dropping their friend down the street. The magician just shakes his head and shuts the door and waves his friend along. Muriel just scowls grumbling into his fur cloak, and Asra just smile at him. “Come on. I can probably whip something up for you.”

“Thanks….” Muriel unenthusiastically grumbles. He feels a bit uncomfortable with going back to the shores. The last time he was there wasn’t the best of memories, but it’s for Rhemi’s sake so he’ll deal with it. She did seem happy to be going, and that's really all that matters to him. 

--------

While Portia and Julian go shopping with Rhemi for the perfect swimsuit for her, Asra swiftly makes his friend something he could wear as well. He makes him a long brown wrap-around cloth that stops around his knees. Knowing that he would be uncomfortable showing that much skin, (well more than he already is) Asra also made him a thin olive colored cloak to put him at ease. Muriel tries on the outfit and Asra places his hand on his hips proudly. “Whatcha think?”

“Tall friend handsome!” Faust hisses cutely.

Muriel looks all around and looks in the long mirror and nods slowly in approval with a faint blush. “It’s, ah... a-acceptable… I guess… T-Thanks, Asra.”

The magician laughs a little then goes in a flash he changes into a white with gold trim short shorts. As he comes out of his room, he dons a cover for now, a cute little lavender flowy dress.

Now mid morning, Asra and Muriel start to pack up a picnic basket and start to fill it with small plates, a couple of forks, a few napkins, a dozen or so small sandwiches, three loaves of bread, some cheese, a small jar of olive oil and of course Agrippa’s cake so they can all enjoy it at the beach. Asra then notices Muriel is just staring at the picnic basket, his mind miles away. By the looks of it, not somewhere pleasant.

 “...Muriel?” Asra whispers, making his friend snap back to reality. “You ok?”

“Oh… Sorry.” He mumbles shaking himself out of his thoughts and returns back to his task of making sandwiches.

Asra flutters his eyes softly. “What’s wrong?”

“I-I’m fine...”

Asra looks at the picnic basket pondering on if for a minute. It’s nothing particularly special, just a large wicker picnic basket. They have seen hundreds of them before.... in fact... Finally it dawns on him exactly what is weighing so heavily on the hermit’s mind. Asra exhales sharply through his nose. “...Thinking about what happened the last time we were there together?”

His tall friend stiffens for a moment, sticking out his bottom lip, and his face turns a little pink. “...No..” He fibs.

Asra stifles a chuckle and a small reassuring smile sprouts across his lips. “The beach is actually a lot more fun when you aren’t forced to sleep there.”

Muriel’s shoulder’s relax a bit, knowing that his friend can read right through his lie. He scratches his left ear a little, feeling a tad bit embarrassed. “... A lot of stuff is actually fun now…. with the right people I guess.”

Rather touched with his statement, Asra places his hand over his chest. “Awwwww, Muriel! You’ve grown so much!—”

“—S-shut up.” Muriel grumpily moans going back to the sandwiches, turning away to hide his smile. “...Why do you have to make things weird?”

Asra laughs and starts back on wrapping up the sandwiches in napkins. “No, really! I mean it. You and Rhemi both have grown so much. The two have just brought out the best in each other. And... And I never want to see you two apart. You belong together.”

“I know…. I don’t know where I’d be if it weren't for her. Probably still wanting to be alone in the forest…. Still wanting everyone to forget that I even existed.” He pauses again, but this time his eyes are glowing with warmth and love as he think about Rhemi’s pretty face. “I… I want to be with her forever…” Muriel flushes a little harder and sheepishly looks at the half made sandwich in his hand. “Asra.... I…. ahh…. I’ve been meaning to ask you…..”

“‘Bout what?”

Muriel's large strong hands start to slightly tremble and he swallows hard. “...What… if….I… I dunno….” Crimson red now engulfs the top of his head down to his chest and a little bit of sweat beading at his brow placing the half made sandwich to the counter top. He opens and closes his mouth a few times, makes vague gestures with his hands then somehow beams even more red. Frustrated, he turns his entire body away to pretend to fetch some more cucumbers, despite the fact there are still three whole ones on the counter.

With a large sigh, Asra places his hand on his shoulder reassuringly. “You can tell me anything, Muriel. I’m your friend and I will never judge you for it.”

Taking a large terrified inhale, Muriel turns himself back to face him and twiddles his thumbs. “..... How would you feel… If…. I asked Rhemi… to… to—”

Slowly the white haired magician starts to realize that he’s trying to ask, and his eyes start to get wider and his lips stretch up into a large toothy smile, and Muriel’s words die in his throat. “Murieeeellllll~ Do you want to pop the question?”

“N-No…….” He scoffs. But then his face softens and he quickly grumbles, rubbing the back of his neck. “...Alrightmaybealittlebit.”

“AAHHHHHHHH! OHMYGOODNESS—MURIEL!!!!!!”  Asra squeals, throwing his arms around Muriel’s waist making him just groan and flush even more. “Wait—Wait-wait!!! A-Are you asking for my blessing?!”

Muriel throws up his hand and shrugs awkwardly and shuts his eyes, trying not to stammer. “I—I dunno!.. I don’t know h-how to do any of—” He vaguely gestures to all around him and to Asra making him smile even wider. “I—I n-never thought…. I’d be in this p-p-position!”

“Of course you have my blessing, Muriel!! No one in the world is more deserving of her then you!!!” Muriel makes a strange shocked mumble, his hands hover over Asra’s shoulders. Slowly they come to rest on his back accepting his affection. “HA! Now I can’t stop thinking about how beautiful your babies are going to be~”

“HUH????” Muriel suddenly covers his face with his hands, but smiles secretly liking the idea of it. “—Wait a minute!—Sl-slow down a bit! I haven't even asked yet! She might tell me no…. I mean… We’ve only known each other for little over a year!... She might think it’s weird. Say ‘no’.” His smile falls, it’s clear that he’s terrified of what she might say or even think about him. 

“But you know she’s the one—I can see how you look at her! And I’m pretty sure she feels the same about you. I have known Rhemi for years. I have seen her with a couple of different guys before she came back. She has never looked at any of them the way she looks at you! Rhemi loves you, Muriel. With every fiber of her being--”

Muriel suddenly lifts Asra up in a huge bear hug that takes him by surprise, but loves at the same time and he squeezes his large barreling chest. A few seconds later, Muriel sets him down, realizing himself and clears his throat. “.... D….Don’t we have some sandwiches to make?” Asra holds his stomach and laughs at the hermit’s sheepish face. He then takes pity on the man and pats him on the arm. “Thanks…” He whispers with a small grin, feeling so relieved that his friend approves. Asra has been there for him so long, even though he may never admit it, their opinion is very important to him.  

The two finally go back to their rhythm making sandwiches and wrapping them up, and there is a comfortable silence for a while. But then Asra snickers a little without looking at Muriel. “So…. when are you gonna ask her?” He whispers loudly.

“A-ASRA!!” Muriel scowls.

Suddenly the door flies open and in walks Rhemi, Portia, and Julian all carrying a canvas tote of some kind. “—I really wish you’d stop saying that, Portia!” Rhemi says opening the door to the shop with her cheeks hot and pink. Apparently the three of them are continuing on their conversation.

“What~?? You should be proud to have such nice big ones!—I was just a bit shocked because you always hide them with these loose shirts of yours!” Portia teases and Rhemi gets even more red.

“Ugggggghhhh!!!! SHUSH!!!” She gripes then covers her mouth with the back of her hand. “I know they're big!!!” She loudly whispers.

Julian just is holding in his laughter, snickering all the way back from the market and Rhemi holds in the urge to punch him. Muriel and Asra stick their heads out the door frame holding the picnic basket eyes wide and confused. “...Do we wanna know?” Asra chuckles while Julian trots over. 

“—NO!” Rhemi quickly snaps with her bottom lip out freezing in place. The magician’s eyes light up as his partner hands him a tiny straw sun hat for Faust and she slithers around his neck giving him a loving squeeze, and he only flinches a little.

“Yeah, you‘ll just see.” Julian loudly whispers, gently peeling Faust off his neck with a large grin while heading to Asra’s room to get changed.

Embarrassed, Rhemi covers her face with her hands, her words muffled by her fingers, “HolyfuckIhateyoubothrightnow.”

Muriel ducks out of the kitchen and trundles over to his lover. As soon as she notices his presence, she drops her hands and she gives him a warm hug and he returns it. “Find something?” Muriel asks as she pulls away to look in his mossy emerald eyes.

“Ahhhh… I guess I did.” Rhemi mumbles with her hands still around his waist. “Not...uhh.. Exactly what I was expecting to find… buuuuuut—” She finally notices his outfit and glances back down changing the subject. “Well you look cute!! Asra, did you make this for him? I love the color!” Asra nods proudly and Muriel scratches the back of his neck shyly.

Giddily, Portia skips over, tugging Rhemi’s shoulder towards the stairs. “Hey, we’re burning daylight! Let’s get changed!” She says so giggly like a young school girl.

Rhemi whips her head towards her direction. “Oh—Okay!” Using Muriel’s forearm as leverage, she jumps up and steals a quick peck on his cheek making him flush ridiculously, then she zips up the stairs to get changed with Portia as he tries to hide a love drunk expression. “Be back in a minute!” She says with a wink. 

Muriel’s attention then goes to Julian as he dramatically bursts out of Asra’s room with a puffy long sleeved, but lite, burgundy embroidered shirt with a deep cut V and a black pair of very short trunks. “Ta-da~” He sings trying to embody a fabulous pose. Muriel stares at him blankly while Asra sputters into laughter at the doctor's goofiness. Finally, Muriel turns grumbling loudly and rolling his eyes, heading back to the kitchen to finish the last of the sandwiches.

Portia is the first to come down stairs, dressed in a large sun hat and an off-the-shoulder scarlet tankini. “Come on, Rem!” She excitedly calls to her as she brushes out the wrinkles in her short orange cover-up around her waist.

“I’m coming, I’m coming! Hang on!” Rhemi comes hopping down trying to get her dark blue slip on shoes on her feet. Asra and Muriel feel slightly disappointed as they see her coming down in an ombré green wrap tied around her neck that covers all the way down to her knees, not yet getting a chance to catch a glimpse at her new swimsuit that the Devoraks were raving about. She quickly pulls her hair up into a bun and cutely says, “Ready!” It’s good to see her looking happy again. 

Muriel silently grabs the picnic basket and pulls his hood over his head. Asra, fetches a large blanket and places in a large canvas tote. Portia takes a beach ball and Julian has an umbrella. Rhemi also is carrying another umbrella, along with her trusty crossbody bag filled with glass jars with tops on them so she can collect items that they need. This was the main point of this trip after all.

As the group of friends head out of the shop, Rhemi closes the door tight and swiftly places the protection spell, securing it safely. Key in hand, she spins around as she drops it into her bag, and finds herself starting at them all.

Just the other day, she felt such dread like she had an empty void tugging away at her chest. Fixated and upset that she didn’t remember why she hates August 15th so much and what exactly she lost that day. But today, all of the anxiety, the emptiness, and the nausea all but disappeared as if it never existed in the first place. She might not remember her childhood, but she does remember what it feels to be terribly lonely. Yet watching her friends joke and laugh and carry on amongst themselves as they wait for her, this was something she always wanted. At one point she even envied what she has now. But now this is all her’s. Surrounded by love, understanding, and never ending kindness. People who love her. The real her. She can’t help her as she smiles stupidly, thinking to herself, “What did I deserve to have so many wonderful people who care about in my life?”

Muriel turns around and his eyes meet with her’s. Seeing the corny grin on her face, he knows exactly what she’s thinking and he smiles back. How can you not smile back at a ray of sunshine? Nodding his head, gesturing for her to hurry over, she hops merrily off the step and over to her friends, excited for the day they're going to have together. She loops her arm around Muriel’s left bicep and he gives her a gentle little squeeze. “Let’s go everyone!!” Rhemi happily shouts, tugging Muriel ahead of the pack, nearly sprinting, pointing towards the shores of Vesuvia like she’s going into battle.

“Today is going to be a good day… What happened in the past doesn’t matter… All that does matter is that I’m here now, in this moment. Loving every minute of it.”

To be continued…

I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG. But holidays, am I right?? Anyways, lets hope that 2021 is a better year that this dumpster fire. Thank you all for being the lovely trash pandas that you are and making 2020 bearable. I really don’t know what i would have done without The Arcana, this fandom and all of you guys you read my hot trash. I love you all, have a great night, and as always...

Thanks for reading my hot garbage. <3

[bastardtetsu]

{day 13} falling slowly | semi x reader

pairing: semi eita x gn!musician!reader

genre: angst, mutual pining or unrequited love depending on how you look at it

wc: 1.8k

warnings: a little swearing, reader who plays piano/sings, mention of a previous relationship, unresolved feelings, just a lot of pain

⍋⋆*❅｡. 25 days of fic-mas mlist .｡❅*⋆⍋

falling slowly eyes that know me and i can’t go back

—falling slowly; once (music & lyrics by glen hansard & marketa irglova, book by enda walsh)

“that song you just played— did you write that?”

you stood there, wide-eyed, staring him down as he turned to walk away from the spot where he had just been busking on the sidewalk. semi wanted to ignore you, but your resolute gaze already had a vice grip on him.

“yeah,” he grunted reluctantly.

“it’s very good.”

“thanks.”

despite his gruffness, you were still staring at him like your life depended on it. it was kinda unnerving.

“why’d you leave your guitar?” you questioned him with a sense of urgency, gesturing to the guitar semi had left in its case on the sidewalk. his expression hardened.

“i don’t want it anymore,” he muttered, casting his eyes downward.

“you should take it. those things are expensive, you know.”

“fine,” he grumbled, shooting you a glare as he stooped to grab the case by the handle, “i’ll sell it if it makes you feel better.”

“i know a shop!” you blurted out, “a music shop. where you can sell your guitar. i was just on my way there, actually!”

“…seriously?”

“it must be fate!”

those words made him cringe back then.

as the two of you entered the store, a cozy place packed with various instruments, you wasted no time making a beeline for the back of the store, dragging a confused semi along with you.

“where are we going? i thought we were here to sell my guitar,” he questioned.

“just follow me,” you insist. the determination in your voice told him there was no point in resisting.

you continued leading him through the shop, all the way to an old upright piano that sat towards the back. “the owner lets me play this whenever i come in,” you explained, your merciless gaze now fixed on the instrument, “it’s a beautiful piano. if i ever win the lottery, this is the first thing i’m buying.”

semi just watched you quietly as you stood there, marveling at it. he was able to appreciate the intensity of your stare more now that he wasn’t the subject of it - the way your eyes glimmered was actually kind of entrancing.

“so what would you like to hear?” you questioned, suddenly turning your gaze back on him as you sat yourself on the bench, “bach? mozart? something of my own?”

“oh, uh— whatever you want,” he muttered. there was clearly no use stopping you at this point, so he might as well comply.

you positioned yourself and began playing. it was a somber melody, gentle but distinctly melancholic. your concentration remained unbroken as your fingers danced gracefully across the keys, until the final mournful note echoed through the empty store.

“did you write that?” semi asked, a bit awestruck by your talent.

“no. felix mendelssohn did.”

“ah.”

“now you play me one,” you demand, eyes aglow.

“wh—no,” semi faltered.

“please,” you begged.

“no,” he stated firmly, his expression hardening again, “i just came here to get rid of my guitar.”

“what do you mean?” you protested, “your music is good, why are you giving up on it?” semi cringed at the sting of your question.

“there’s no point anymore,” he snapped, “it’s gotten me nowhere.”

“what, so you’re quitting ‘cause you’re not famous?”

“i’m not—“ he scoffed defensively, “you wanna play your songs for people who want to listen.”

“well i’m people,” you stated, your gaze on him more unyielding than ever, “and i want to listen. now play me a song.”

the rigidity of your stare was almost enough to convince him.

“no.”

however, just as semi turned to leave, as if by some sort of drama-induced miracle, a sheet of folded paper fell from his coat pocket, which you wasted no time snatching up before he could even grab at it.

“hey—“ he protested, “give it back, come on.”

“music is dead to you, right?” you taunted, “so isn’t this trash?”

“you know what,” he huffed, his patience at its limit, “fuck it—yeah, keep it. it was nice meeting you.”

“hey!” you barked right as he was turning to leave. his head spun around to find your eyes staring him down with the most intensity and desperation he’d seen from you all day. “you won’t die if you play this song with me,” you spoke to him sincerely, “please.”

he didn’t answer, but remained frozen where he stood, unwilling to break from your acute gaze as you lowered yourself onto the bench and placed your fingers on the keys.

you perused the slightly crumpled page while semi waited with nervous anticipation, reminding himself to breathe as you began to play the notes he had scrawled onto the staff.

as your fingers began to recreate the familiar motif with impressive precision, he gingerly picked up his guitar from its case by the piano, looping the strap over his head as he started to sing,

“i don’t know you but i want you all the more for that”

he sang tentatively at first, the words and notes like scratches upon an unhealed scab, until your voiced chimed in with a harmony,

“and words fall through me and always fool me and i can’t react”

semi began to strum at his guitar, more self-assured as the gentle tune continued, your voices and instruments moulding together as the music swelled into chorus after chorus. his reluctant voice became more and more powerful with each changing chord, each strum of his guitar more intentional as the sounds intermingled with yours, creating new discoveries within a painfully familiar refrain.

as the tempo slowed to a quiet halt, your eyes met with his again until you played the final chord in unison. you both stood there in silence for a moment, as if you were waiting for the final sound waves to finish reverberating, dissolving into the air.

“so where is she?” your question broke the silence.

“where’s who?”

“the girl in the song,” you clarified, “is she dead??”

“what—no, jesus,” semi sputtered, caught off guard for what must be the 75th time today.

“so where is she?” your gaze is on him again, adamant as ever.

“she left,” he uttered, his dejection covered by his brusque tone, “about six months ago. there was nothing else for her here, so—”

“so you still love her?”

semi’s face twitched, feeling his chest tighten at the question.

“no. we’re finished,” he stated shortly.

“no one who writes a song like that is finished,” you enunciated firmly, causing his breath to catch. “if you sing this to her, i bet she’ll take you back.”

“huh?” the ash blond’s face twisted into a confused scowl.

“i’m serious.” the gleam in your eye only affirmed your statement.

“no way,” he replied, “i’m not running after some woman who’s doing fine without me just so i can sing her some stupid—“

“it’s not stupid!” you nearly yelled at him before softening a bit, maintaining your resolute stare. “your songs are good,” you stated emphatically. semi felt his breath catch again, this time accompanied by a rush of warmth to his face. “do you have more??”

-

your heart nearly stops when you see it, breath catching in your throat as the sting of tears begins to prick your eyes.

the old upright piano you had spotted one day in a music store now sits in your living room, a large, bright red ribbon adorning its shiny wooden surface. there is no note, but you need no indication to know who it’s from.

he must be long gone now. he got a call from his ex practically begging him to come back, so of course he went. it doesn’t matter how many longing glances you caught as you helped him rehearse, or how much electricity you felt surge through your body every time you so much as brushed his hand while reaching for some sheet music.

he has unfinished business. you’ve both always known that, it’s why you tried so hard to keep your distance, even as you helped him produce a studio album, relentlessly encouraging him not only to keep pursuing music, but to keep pursuing her. it’s what he deserves. it’s not your place.

it doesn’t matter how much your heart wanted to leap out of your chest when his stern grey eyes stared into yours, uncharacteristically earnest, as he squeezed your hands in his and thanked you for changing his life. he was talking about the music. you’ve only ever talked about the music.

it doesn’t matter that no matter how hard you tried to maintain your distance - god, you really tried - his songs always pulled you back in. those songs aren’t about you. he wrote those for someone else, someone who he is destined to go back to.

it doesn’t matter that every time he played one he felt a shift, like discovering a new harmony, each lyric twisting into a different meaning. that somewhere along the way, he started singing them about you — you can’t think about that. it can’t be about that.

it doesn’t even matter that he said you were a part of his new life, starry-eyed and nearly breathless, imploring you with to run away with him and start a band together, make an album, just the two of you and all your beautiful music. it was just a silly fantasy. one can only entertain such a delusion for so long before you have to move on with your real life again.

as you lower yourself onto the piano bench, you imagine yourself back in the shop on that day, the ash-blonde musician you had just met scowling dubiously as you began to play the opening of one of his songs. you can almost hear the delicate strains of his guitar as he plucked the accompaniment on the strings, his voice growing stronger as he sang.

“and games that never amount to more than they’re meant will play themselves out”

you recall sitting with him at the top of a hill just outside of town one night, looking down at the warm lights of the city twinkling in the distant. he told you about the first time he ever felt scared. you told him you only saw him as a friend. could he tell you were lying?

“take this sinking boat and point it home we’ve still got time“

tears begin to well in your eyes, blurring your vision as you play. but you don’t even need to see the keys, because you know this song too well. it’s engraved in your muscle memory. no matter how hard you try, your body will remember.

“raise your hopeful voice you have a choice you’ve made it now”

“call your girl tonight,” you reminded him as you left the recording studio for the last time. he asked you to come over to his place later, but you’re not going. you know better than that.

“falling slowly sing your melody i’ll sing it loud”

the tears are falling freely now, wetting your hands and the keys, but you continue playing as if semi were right there singing along with you, creating sweet harmonies and stirring chords together, losing yourselves in the music.

you allow the song to engulf you, the melody washing over you like a wave of pure feeling as you bid goodbye to the man you fell unwillingly, irreparably in love with.

a/n: i’m not normally an angst person, or a huge semi simp really, but i still ended up hurting my own feelings with this lmao. i’d probably let semi ruin my life as much as he wants too, let’s be real. the songs linked at the top are definitely required listening for this one (the first link is them together in the music shop, the second one is the reprise at the end) and if you really wanna experience pain, find a bootleg of the show & watch the whole thing bc i truly struggled trying not to shove the entire musical into this one fic (once again if u need help finding it i may or may not have a link if u dm me)

taglist: @izagraceee​ @musicgetsmeoutofbed​ @azo-musxas​ @tsumurai @ghostlydiamond135 @animeboysimppp @starshaped-raindrops

[lampmeeting]

Hey I’m working on a fic and I really like the way you write Toki so I wanted to know if you had any advice for capturing his voice

oh wow!! :O this is really flattering and SO sweet, thank you fish! yeah, lemme see if i can organize my thoughts in a way that makes sense (i apologize in advance if i don’t, which... yeah i probably won’t haha)

Let’s bust out the capital letters and write this properly though. All right, so here’s a collection of things I think about when writing Toki:

he can be hypervigilant at times due to his childhood trauma, looking out for other people’s emotions

he’s also optimistic to a stubborn degree and sometimes gets carried away with that without meaning to (I think the intense optimism is a protective measure he developed as a kid)

he feels very deeply but doesn’t always know how to express that, which can lead to frustration and second-guessing himself

he’s smart but due to spending most of his life either in an abusive household with no proper schooling or in a mansion with servants, he’s got some serious gaps in his knowledge and social skills, so he can seem weird/spacey/stupid at times

enjoys activities that make him feel “grown up” since he’s not used to being viewed as a capable adult (i tend to write him older, too, so it’s especially difficult for him being constantly treated like someone much younger than he is)

The thing about Toki, too, is that he still has these very innocent, childlike views and opinions. A kiss and a hug should make things better. Ignoring a problem might make it go away. When someone is mad, they must be mad at him. He can be very reactionary, unless he doesn’t feel completely safe, in which case he might feel everything the same way, but be much more subdued and observational, or if he feels VERY unsafe might even retreat into himself entirely to try and escape (I also think that when he feels safe with someone, that’s when his playfulness/brattiness can sometimes pop out, which is why he’s like that a lot with the boys because he feels comfy around them).

And then of course he IS prone to just wildly explosive episodes of anger. No one can keep up the :D 24/7 with without a good outlet for negative emotions. I like to think art and making models can sometimes help him zone out and deal, and of course we know he can abuse alcohol to cope with bad feelings, but when he doesn’t have any of those outlets readily available shit can sorta boil over. It’ll always seem to others like it came outta nowhere, but Toki was probably feeling it build for a while until he finally couldn’t take it.

I feel like I’m not doing a very good job of this haha... sorry. My thoughts are always really scattered and trying to wrangle is difficult. I also tend to put a pretty fair amount of myself and my own thought process into Toki because I’ve come to relate to him the older I get, so things tend to get a bit muddled.

Basically, to me, Toki is a sensitive, socially-stunted adult man who desperately wants to be perceived as someone capable and worthy of respect, but he also wants to cuddle his teddy bear and sing silly songs and fall in love and be a mushy, goofy motherfucker, and I think he’s always trying to figure out how to find that balance that allows him to have it both ways.

And as far as, like, his actual dialogue goes, I tend to keep him in shorter sentences just because they’re easier for him (and let’s face it, me) to deal with. A lot of his “dialogue” tends to be nonverbal, too (I think? or at least it is in my mind). Expressions, what his hands are doing, how he’s positioning himself, etc. I try to keep the plurals as minimal as I can while still staying true to his canon way of speaking. If I could get away with season 1 Toki, I would, but unfortunately by the time the later seasons and Doomstar happen, he’s talking more and more like Skwisgaar (and throwing in a random 3rd person just like Dr. Rockso does...). And then it’s always fun to try and have him use words he can’t really remember how to pronounce, or maybe he uses a similar-sounding word in place of what he means to say (”blowjob” instead of “nosebleed”).

Just for like...example purposes I guess, here’s my favorite lil’ bit of Toki dialogue I’ve ever written (from What You Need, near the beginning when he’s out with Magnus):

“Thanks for coming out with me, man.”

“I’ms the ones what should be thankings you.” Magnus gave him a curious look and Toki blushed and kept talking. “Well, um. Ams just nice to gets away from everyones for a while.”

“Yeah,” Magnus said slowly, rattling his ice. “How’s that all going?”

Toki didn’t want to think about it too hard. The alcohol was making it sting. “Nots great. Nathans and Pickle ams still hatings each other. And I can’ts works for Murderface anymore ‘cause of thems photos on the news.”

Magnus stifled a wheezing laugh behind his glass, cleared his throat. “I, uh. Saw that. Just terrible.”

Toki put his head down on the table and groaned. “Whats ams gonna happens to Toki, Magnus?”

(I love sticking in those little bits when he refers to himself in 3rd person, it’s so silly and cute.)

Anyway, I hope this helped in some way?? Sorry for writing you a novella here. If you have any follow-up questions I’d love to take a crack at ‘em! :D And thank you!!!

(PS - also I should mention that @sourbat writes an exquisite Toki that really inspires me and they’re phenomenal at explaining their thought process, so if you’d like another perspective you should totally hit them up)

[songfell-ut]

Chapter 13, something luck something

I gave myself the feels, @lostmypotatoes send help

Link here.

“…AND THIS, MY INTREPID YOUNG FRIEND, IS…THE ROYAL GUARD!! NYEHHHHHH!”

They’d stopped at the head of the staircase in the Grand Hall. Her new skeleton friend had thrown his arms wide at a line of monsters standing motionless in shiny black armor, as proud as a child showing a visitor his favorite toys. “NYEHHH,” he added reverently.

The Royal Guard was quite impressive, like gleaming statues that could come to life and kill you, but Frisk wasn’t scared. She could see their ears poking out from their helmets, and some of them looked pretty silly: a couple of dogs, a cat, a rabbit, a bug, something like a lizard or dragon…

But then there was their Captain, who had just removed her helmet. She did not look silly. “UNDYNE!” Papyrus blared at the tall, eyepatched fish-woman. “THIS IS KRIS! SAY HELLO TO HIM! …ER, UNDYNE? HIS NAME IS KRIS, NYEH HEH! …HE IS A HUMAN! …NYEH? UNDYNE?”

No answer. Undyne’s scarred, scowling, evil-toothed countenance did not waver. Her webbed hand was clenched on the shaft of her spear, cerulean scales and mostly-yellow eye glittering in the witchlight. Even her red ponytail looked menacing as it fluttered in the breeze of passing dignitaries.

The human’s path was clear. Her expression went blank with determination. Frisk looked around and saw vases full of fresh flowers against the wall; as the monsters glanced at each other in confusion, the child selected a vase, tossed out the flowers, lugged the vase back to the Royal Guard Captain, and, with one almighty heave, threw the water right into Undyne’s face.

~

Frisk woke him even earlier than they’d planned, looking as though she hadn’t slept and sounding very businesslike. Sans was too groggy at first to remember last night, and before he could wonder if it had even happened, she was already laying out their plan for the day.

And…it was not what they had discussed yesterday. It was the opposite. “Lemme get this straight,” he said when she was finished. “Ya don’ wanna sneak out anymore. You wanna tell everyone an’ their mom that we’re takin’ the monsters back t’the Underground as a goodwill gesture in exchange for more cool monster stuff.”

“Yes.”

“So we’re goin’ out as a big deal that everyone knows about, on purpose?”

“Yes.”

“We’re gonna let ‘em think you already cleared it with the King ‘n everything’s fine?”

“Yes.”

“That’s…that’s a big fat lie.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“Yes it is.”

“No. It isn’t.”

“Yuh-huh.”

“I’m not an idiot, Sans! If we disappeared without any indication whatsoever of where I’d gone, His Majesty would assume I’d been abducted and send soldiers after me. I just woke him up a few minutes ago and told him where we were going, and why.”

Something about the way she said it made him ask, “And he’s okay with it?”

Frisk smirked. “We’re going.”

~

Departing with a lot of fanfare actually took less effort than Sans expected. All he had to do was go down to the stables, announce that Her Eminence was leaving immediately on an important diplomatic mission, hand over her written instructions, and then stand back. For once, his scariness was a real advantage: by the time Frisk brought down the group of silent, shivering monsters, the wagons were already in place, the horses hitched up, and the cargo nearly loaded.

The priestess had been busy mobilizing a small army of assistants, which was a lot easier than their original plan to have him teleport everything from her room. Their provisions and gifts for the Underground were brought down and loaded according to the diagrams Frisk had drawn for the monsters: one wagon was for Ice Cap, who would travel with the majority of the food, while the other had Pyrope and Vulkin, who were wrapped in fireproof blankets and seated away from anything flammable. The other monsters would ride with them in order to stay warm—the canvas wagon covers were good for privacy, but didn’t keep out much of the wind.

Sans had made himself scarce while the work was going on, but when everyone and everything was in place, he stepped up to make Frisk get in with the flame monsters instead of riding up front in the lead wagon. She’d been standing in a corner of the freezing yard to supervise the last preparations; in her full High Priestess regalia, she was as impressive as ever, but he’d watched her closely and seen her trying not to cough.

As her personal guard, and her…whatever the hell they were now, it was his duty to not let her get sick again, but his official consideration was for her safety. They were traveling with a cortege of twelve guards, which would deter most attackers and also help clear traffic ahead of them, but there was no point in putting her on display for someone to take potshots.

They wheeled out of the castle gates and onto the main thoroughfare just after sunrise. Sans wasn’t a big fan of walking, or being in the cold, but his slippers and overcoat were mostly adequate. He wished he could poke his head into the wagon to check on Frisk, but she had asked him not to let the other monsters see him yet; besides, he heard her humming at a couple of points and figured she was busy keeping them calm. Pyrope was a twitchy little bastard, and Vulkin had a bad habit of “helping” via lava, so he’d just leave her to it.

The day passed, and to their pleasant surprise, they reached Frisk’s house on the outskirts of the city long before dark. That gave them more time than expected for Frisk to unload the monsters and shepherd them into the house; Sans grabbed enough food for that night and the morning, and the attendants took the wagons and horses to the nearest inn. Two guards took up positions outside the house before they locked the door for the night, and that was that.

None of the monsters had spoken or made eye contact with anyone all day, to Sans’ knowledge. As soon as they were gathered in the dining room, the priestess allowed him to step in and say, “Heya.”

Frisk retreated as the monsters came alive, swarming around the giant skeleton and all babbling at once in frantic relief. He had been somewhat scary to them in the relative peace of the Underground, but seeing him now was the best possible reassurance that the High Priestess had not been lying or playing some kind of sick game with them: they really would be home by the day after tomorrow.

After a few minutes, Frisk came back into the room, bare-headed and wearing a loose white gown, for Sans to re-introduce her as “Kris,” the not-really-a-boy from the human delegation. Six of the eight remembered her, and Pyrope got so excited that he left a couple of smoking holes in the carpet.

When everyone was done eating and talking, Frisk directed Ice Cap to the attic, where they could safely leave the little window open to keep it cold, while Sans built up the kitchen fire and made an asbestos-blanket fort for the flame monsters. The others sprawled out on the beds or any patch of floor they could, safe and well-fed; still, Sans noticed how uneasy they were, and understood what that was like. He just hoped they’d be able to feel safe again.

Once everyone was settled, Frisk was nowhere to be found. Of all the damn places she could’ve slept in, Sans finally found her wrapped up in her cloak in the bathtub. “Frisk,” he said accusingly.

She made a noise explaining that she was fine, a monster could have the remaining bed.

“Nope.” The priestess squeaked as he bent to scoop her up in both hands. “C’mon, kitten. Time ta sleep literally anywhere else.” Before she could object, he walked her into the smallest bedroom, dropped her onto the bed, and threw a comforter over her. “There. G’night.”

Frisk struggled to sit up. “Wait, where—”

Sans lay down on the floor and sighed noisily. “We’re not t’the Underground yet. Let’s just go ta sleep, okay?”

“…Okay. But, Sans—”

The boss monster emitted a loud, sustained fake snore, cut short by her pillow landing on his face.

~

Either the demon-child was still satisfied from the other night, or they were just too tired to be reachable, because they woke from a dreamless night to another stiff, sore day of travel.

The monsters were more animated today as they loaded into the wagons, which Frisk took as a good omen. Granted, there was a delay when Sans got too close to the draft horses and scared them so badly that the grooms had to unhitch them for a quick jog around the block, but the crowd gathering on the street to watch still cheered and waved as they set off.

It was another bitterly cold day, and as Frisk leaned into Vulkin, she tried not to think too much about spending the night in the no-man’s-land. King Stephin had still been sleepy when they talked yesterday morning, and the best objection he’d come up with on the spot had been the diplomatic ramifications of bringing so many humans so close to the Underground. She’d countered with the proposal that they leave all their attendants at the border and have Sans handle both security and transportation from then on, as he was a monster and knew the area well. The King tried to backpedal, but Frisk had gone on about a smaller group being faster and safer, attracting less attention, needing fewer provisions, etc., until he gave in.

“Very well. I will ask His Holiness to arrange the necessary financial matters for each monster,” the King had said coolly. “I am trusting you, Frisk, to bring back favorable news, and prove that this mission is any better than a child’s tantrum over not getting her way.”

“I wonder that Your Majesty has ever spent enough time with a child to see one,” she shot back, eliminating any chance of leaving him on a polite note.

Unfortunately, Frisk was now so busy thinking of that conversation – and trying to ignore the bruises she was accumulating from riding in a big, jouncing cargo wagon – that she forgot to mention it to Sans until they stopped for a break several miles outside the city. He’d started bemoaning the logistics they had to work out for that evening, trying to get all these guys fed and coordinated and bedded down and what they were going to do with the horses, and she had to cut him off with “They’re not coming.”

The guards and drivers looked up from their roadside sandwiches at a furious, smothered explosion of sound. They glanced at each other as the massive skeleton growled down at the priestess, but she didn’t seem worried, so they resumed eating as Sans carried on snarling and gesticulating.

Frisk could understand why he was upset, but the third time he ended a sentence with “—‘n did I mention I’m not a fuckin’ horse?!” was enough. “Sans,” she said, and he stopped. “Calm down and think about it. This may actually be safer. Have I ever shown you how I can hide something with a barrier?”

“Uh…” The boss monster shrugged crankily. “I know you’ve got a lotta different tricks.” Snort. “Any chance ya have somethin’ that’ll pull the wagons for us?”

“Yes. You.”

Sans blinked, and covered his face with one hand. “God damn it.”

Frisk turned her back to the guards so she could grin at him through the veil. “It takes a lot of strength, but if it’s just the two of us and the wagons, I could keep us completely hidden for short periods,” she said, more somberly. “In your opinion, is it safer to move by night, or camp outside the border till morning and then make as much time as we can?”

The skeleton tapped his dusty slipper on the grass, thinking out loud. “It’s probably better t’go at night. A lot of this place is so flat that you can see fer miles on a clear day. I can get by pretty well in the dark, so yer right. If we don’t have all of these dorks walkin’ with us ‘n makin’ noise, you’d just need ta cover up the wagons. It’s mostly bedrock out here, so with the wind blowin’ the sand around, we shouldn’t hafta worry about tracks.”

“I see. How far should we try to get tonight? I don’t think we can make it all in one push.”

“Not if I’m all we’ve got,” he grumbled. “Let’s get t’the fence and see how we’re doin’.”

Frisk had a word with the drivers; when they started again, they went at a quicker pace, the better to reach their destination and allow the men and horses time to get back to the nearest village before dark.

She grew more and more apprehensive as the hours passed, and finally dug out her satchel of clothing, asking the monsters to close their eyes so she could change into a more practical dress than her High Priestess leg-trap. Not long afterward, the wagon slowed and ground to a halt; they were at the border, a day’s journey from the Underground.

~

Sans waited till the other humans were almost out of sight to tell the monsters, “Come on out, guys.”

All but the flame monsters piled out to stretch their legs and wings while Sans ran a trace of red magic along the wire fencing. Frisk watched him pluck at a seemingly solid strand, revealing a length of twine holding two cut pieces together. “Humans go in ‘n out this way,” the skeleton informed her. “’s like havin’ a gate. They just untie it and tie it back up behind ‘em.”

Frisk shook her head and hugged herself tighter under her cloak. Sans didn’t have time to admire how the cold air had turned her cheeks red, or be really irritated at how the men had all gawked at her without her veil, but he did it anyway while the monsters got ready to resume their places. “So,” the skeleton said, resigned, “how’re we gonna do this crap?”

Five minutes later, Sans was trudging along in the fast-fading light, his hands shoved in his pockets, the wagon’s shafts wedged between his wrists and his hipbones so he could pull it in lieu of a horse. Frisk sat in the driver’s seat of the second wagon, whistling softly and watching the tufts of red magic keeping its shafts upright. Sans had to admit that the flat terrain and the laws of physics made it easy to keep the wagons going once they’d started…but it still sucked.

“Are you doing all right?” the priestess asked at one point.

“Neigh,” he responded, and she started snrrking so hard that he threatened to stop and make her pull the damn wagon. Then he had to deal with that mental imagery until it got darker and he could focus on maintaining a tiny speck of magic to sharpen his night vision. It was nearly a new moon out, perfect for moving in secrecy.

It happened some time after midnight. The monsters had fallen asleep; the priestess was dozing, and Sans was on the verge of stopping for the night when a shriek rang out from the wagon behind Frisk, who nearly fell off her seat. Sans had to lift her down for her to run back, leap into the wagon, and rouse Vulkin from a nightmare, humming urgently to quiet her.

“Shit,” Sans muttered as a torch flared in the distance. “Hey, kitten?”

She didn’t waste any time: a whistle raised a golden bubble around them, and Sans winced at the sheer power crackling through it. For the first time, he found he was less worried about being trapped inside a barrier than he was about the amount of magic it was costing her.

Minute after minute passed. Strange human voices drew way too close, and Sans could only stand there while Frisk held the spell steady, diverting enough magic to soothe the terrified monsters. The giant skeleton had no idea how she was blocking both sound and light and hiding the barrier’s presence from the other side while she hummed, but she did it, because the poachers soon concluded that it’d been a false alarm and wandered back the way they’d come. “They’re gone, sweetheart. Drop it,” Sans ordered, and he heard a ragged sound as the barrier evaporated.

That was enough. Sans set the wagons’ brakes, grabbed as many rocks as his remaining magic could carry, and formed stacks under the shafts to hold them upright, then stuck most of his head into the back of the wagon. “I’m so sorry,” whimpered Vulkin. “I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s not yer fault,” he said roughly. In the monster’s glow, he could see the priestess lying on the wagon floor, resting her head on her forearm as she struggled to catch her breath. “Hand ‘er over.”

Later, he would kick himself for dragging Frisk into the cold again, but he had to see for himself that she was okay. Sans bundled her under his coat and sat down against the wheel, folding her into the crook of his arm while he summoned up heat and softness, everything a skeleton usually couldn’t offer.

That was all well and good, but as she turned toward him, trying to reach up around his neck, something weird happened. He allowed her to stand on the ground and rest her weight against him, her arms sliding under his coat and over his bony shoulders; he’d almost gotten used to that amazing, fluttery, possessive thing his SOUL did when she was on him, but this time, it got physically warmer, and he felt like something was…leaving him? What—

Frisk’s whole body jerked. She pulled her head back enough to stare at him. “Sans? What did you do?!”

“I…” Sans had to close his sockets against a rush of dizziness. “I dunno.”

The priestess withdrew her arms and looked down at her hands. She raised one and snapped her fingers, and another barrier roared to life around them. “What the crap, Frisk?” Sans rasped. “Ya don’t have the strength fer that!”

“I do now,” she said blankly. “How…how did you give me magic directly? Is it—”

Just like that, the dizziness had become full-on vertigo. “Sansy needs t’go night-night,” the skeleton mumbled, and the darkness politely stepped up to pull him back down with it.

~

A band of poachers had made camp near the river. Their sentry glanced up from his breakfast, then leapt to his feet and called out as someone emerged from the morning mist. “Whoa! Easy, pal,” said the stranger, stopping a polite distance away and holding his hands up. “We’re not lookin’ for trouble. I’m just checkin’ somethin’.” He made a strange face, as if he wasn’t entirely sure how faces worked. “Have ya heard who’s s’posed to be out here right now?”

“Maybe,” the sentry admitted. He eyed the interloper’s oddly pale hair, the contrast it made with his black coat and red shirt, and lowered his crossbow. “Depends what you’ve heard.”

“Someone from the High Priestess is passin’ through, doin’ somethin’ with a buncha monsters,” said the newcomer, lowering his arms very slowly. “I was makin’ sure ya weren’t them. We’re pretty new at this, so—”

The sentry gave a bark of laughter. “Dumbass! It’s the High Priestess. She’s out here with nine or ten monsters, all by herself.”

“Really?” The stranger blinked too many times. “Hot damn.” He laughed, too, sort of. “Too bad we can’t get magic outta her, huh?”

The sentry leered at him in male camaraderie. “Ever seen her in person? I know what I’d get out of her!” He slapped his leg, oblivious to the stranger’s twitching eye and clenched fists. “Well, if you’re new to the business, take it from me: keep any humans you find and save ‘em for ransom, ‘specially her.”

Blink. “Ransom?”

“Yeah. Ransom,” the poacher said impatiently. “You know who her dad is, right?”

The pale-haired stranger blinked again. “Duke Whatshisface?”

“Seriously?” The sentry shook his head in disbelieving pity. “Her dad’s the King, dipshit. You never heard about it?” He gestured expansively with the crossbow, enjoying the stranger’s dumbfoundment. “No joke. The old man used to fuck anything that’d hold still long enough. There’s five or six kids left that we know of, and she’s his favorite.” His grin broadened. “You really didn’t know? Man, you’re fuckin’ stupid.” He flapped his hand. “Get out of here. Go on home before you trip ‘n kill yourself.”

In a daze, the stranger put his hands in his pockets and turned around. “Oh, by the way,” he said, and without warning, something erupted from the ground, impaling the sentry’s foot.

His screams brought his comrades running to see him clutching a huge white bone sticking out of the bedrock, and a stranger pointing wildly toward the river. “Holy crap, it came from over there!” he shouted. “It’s that big-ass skeleton thing! It’s definitely over there!”

Only one of the poachers tried to say, “Who’re you?” before another line of projectiles slammed into the ground heading away from them; he ran to follow the rest of the group, leaving the luckless sentry to try to wrestle the bone free. When he looked up to demand the stranger help him, there was no one there.

“Fuckin’ fuckstick,” Sans muttered to himself from a few hundred yards away, jerking a hand to summon more bones and make it seem like they were still under attack. “I oughta fuckin’…” He kicked a rock so hard that it hurt his stupid wimpy human toe.

Fuck-a-duck. He couldn’t go back to camp like this. With the mist covering him and the poachers haring off in the opposite direction, he could think things over for a minute, starting with whether Frisk had ever come out and said who her father was.

…No, she never had. He’d just remembered something about Rosa – who he now knew wasn’t even her mom – working for a duke, and reached a reasonable conclusion that was totally wrong. It was probably such an open secret that she either hadn’t thought to tell him or hadn’t wanted to in case he treated her any differently. She was probably sick of that already…

Sans was too lost in thought to see something moving in the mist, following him away from the poachers’ camp along the riverbank. When he absently turned to stare at the water, it vanished, only to reappear as he turned again.

So, Frisk had pulled this crazy stunt because there was nothing else she could do about the monsters being sold. According to everything Sans had seen, only the Cardinal or the King could go over her head; therefore, while Duke Whatshisass was in charge of doling the monsters out to new owners, it probably wasn’t him who’d actually decided to sell them. The Cardinal hadn’t bothered her since she said she’d be retiring, and she hadn’t mentioned him at all, which just left the King.

Sans had seen for himself how much the old man treated her like a daughter, go figure. Knowing Frisk, she’d probably told His Majesty to his face that she intended to free those monsters, and he’d decided to keep her out of serious legal trouble and also remind her who was boss by ordering them sold right away. No wonder she’d been willing to flip him the bird right back by stealing the monsters and getting public opinion on her side.

Against all logic, Sans felt his poofy lips curling upward. In a weird way, this was the push he needed to be a little less miserable about not deserving her and a bit more smug that she’d picked him over the zillion guys desperate to snag an illegitimate princess. At this point, she transcended the concept of anyone deserving her. He still thought he sucked, but so what? If he hadn’t imagined what she’d said the other night, then…

The mist was beginning to thin out as the sun came up. Sans paused and glanced behind him, but nothing was there. He turned back toward their camp, reaching for his chain. Better not confront her about something she hadn’t really been hiding in the first place, though now he was determined to ask about her m—

Only the hiss of something flying through the air alerted him in time to fling up a wall of bones, barely deflecting a blow aimed at his neck. Before he could even swear aloud, more things came at him, and he instinctively turned to run away from their camp.

“Hey! HEY!” a voice shouted. Sans’ human ears perked up at the sound. “Come back here, meat-wad!”

His aim wavered as he threw a wave of pointed bones behind him, just missing the figure in the mist. It easily caught one and threw it straight back at him, only to see it glance off another wall of bone. “You!” the figure snarled. “How did you get Sans’ magic? Where is he?! Tell me, you damn coward!”

Sans dodged another one. “Hey!” Dodge. “Hey, listen, ya crazy broad! It’s—”

“Sans?” They both froze at the sound of Frisk’s voice. “Sans, where are you?”

The boss monster finally understood that expression about blood running cold. Fighting chills, he turned his head and opened his mouth to tell Frisk to run.

That moment of distraction was all the figure needed: Frisk came up just in time to see a bone spin end over end and smash into the back of his head, nearly knocking him out.

~

The High Priestess had heard Sans’ attack on the poachers as she was balancing a frying pan on Vulkin, who’d volunteered to help cook breakfast. Frisk just prayed Sans could divert them without killing anyone, or that he would at least try.

Several minutes later, though, he hadn’t returned. She was passing the pancakes around and had retrieved the bucket for more water when she heard shouting. Her stomach lurched at the sound of bones breaking. Sans!

Telling the monsters to stay put, Frisk reflexively grasped the bucket handle and ran out of the warded camp, keeping another barrier ready. “Sans?” She looked around, squinting through the last tendrils of mist. “Sans, where are you?”

She saw him a split-second before someone threw one of his own bones straight back at him. Frisk choked on a scream as he hit the ground, blood darkening the sand. “Sa—"

“Hey. You.”

Frisk gulped as their attacker advanced on her from the edge of the water. “What’d you say about Sans, human? You know where he is?” The tall monster emerged from the mist, removing her helmet as she glared down with one mostly-yellow eye. “Oh, come on! Don’t tell me you took out a boss monster! How’d you do it? Cheating?” She almost spat the last word. “Start talking, you—”

“Undyne?” Despite her fear, Frisk smiled. “Undyne, it’s you!”

A spearpoint flashed in the air, stopping the priestess as she tried to step forward. “How’d you get my name? Did you torture it out of someone, human? Huh? Was it Sans?!” The spear poked at Frisk, forcing her backward. “Tell you what,” Undyne snapped, pivoting toward the human-shaped boss monster, who was still struggling to get up. “Let’s assume you care at all about your accomplice here. Either you tell me what I want to know, or…” The spear rose.

“No!” In sheer panic, Frisk threw a barrier between Sans and the other monster.

A moment later, she realized her mistake: Undyne had only been threatening him, but as she looked back at Frisk, her gaze was now murderous. “That’s it! That’s how you did it! You used a frickin’ barrier!” She stomped the ground so hard that Frisk felt the bedrock tremble. “I ought to gut you like a fish, you damn cheater! Do you hear me? A FISH!”

“Wait!” The priestess held up her hands, too distressed to be amused by Undyne’s choice of words. “Undyne, please! I’m—” She bit her lip. That wouldn’t work; Undyne wouldn’t believe that she was Kris. It might make her so angry that she’d try to kill them outright. Frisk racked her brains for some way to prove it—she had never shown Undyne her scars, but…

The Royal Guard Captain scowled deeper, this time in puzzlement, as Frisk stared at the bucket dangling from her forearm. “You’re what, human?” Undyne demanded.

Frisk swallowed hard. “I want to show you something,” she said, and took a deliberate side-step toward the water, ignoring the raised spear. “It’s not a barrier, and it’s not some kind of trick. Just watch, all right? And don’t hurt him!”

Undyne glanced around them in case this was a diversion, and at Sans, now lying still and silent. Frisk saw him, too, and her expression made Undyne lower her spear ever so slightly. “What is it? Make it quick!”

Frisk took a deep breath. To Undyne’s bewilderment, the human’s expression went neutral. She went to the river, dipped up a half bucket of water, carried it back to Undyne, and threw it into her face.

~

Through the haze of pain and gut-wrenching fear, Sans distantly heard Undyne yelling at Frisk, and he felt the barrier she put up to protect him. He wanted to shake her for thinking of him and not herself, and for showing Undyne she could do it. Then there was a dreadful silence, and he couldn’t get up to—

“NGAHHHHHHH!”

Sans threw himself forward, not quite gaining his feet. Hitting the ground again on all fours, he looked frantically for Undyne and whatever horrible things she was doing to—

Frisk was dangling, not from a spear’s bloody point, but from Undyne’s bear hug as the dripping-wet monster swung the human in time to a joyous bellow of “My little bestiiiiiiiiie!”

What the…no, never mind. With an effort, Sans pulled off his disguise and tried not to collapse as the world lurched sideways. “Ow,” he muttered, just to be part of the moment.

Undyne froze, not quite releasing Frisk. “Sans? What the—where’ve you been?” she demanded.

Sans’ glare would have set a lesser monster ablaze on the spot. “Almost gettin’ murdered by yer crazy ass!”

“Really?” Undyne looked puzzled. Then her face lit up. “Ohh, that was you! Ha!” She gave her giant-toothed grin. “Sorry about that, boss. How’d you do that? And why were you saying all that crap to that human back there?”

“I was tryin’ ta throw him off our trail! We’re the monsters and the High Priestess!” Sans sat up and raised one hand to heal his aching skull, indicating Frisk with the other. “Now let ‘er go before ya squeeze her t’death!”

“Hm? Oh, right.” Undyne set Frisk down, letting the priestess catch her breath. “So you’re Kris, huh?” The Captain planted her hand on one hip, watching Frisk brush herself off. “Did you know she was a girl?” she asked Sans.

“Nope. She had us all fooled.” Sans closed his eyes to focus his magic. Fuckin’ Undyne. If he hadn’t been a boss monster, that would’ve killed him!

“It wasn’t my idea,” Frisk protested as she picked up the bucket. “I was only ten, and they said it’d be safer. Can I help you with that, Sans?”

Undyne waved her spear. “Whatever! You’re here now! Ignore him, he’s being a big baby.” She glanced around. “Let’s move out before any more damn humans show up. No offense.” Frisk inclined her head. “You say you’ve got more people with you?”

If the monsters had been happy to see Sans, they nearly turned to dust when Undyne strolled into camp and announced that she would be escorting them the rest of the way home. Once everyone had calmed down, Sans had to admit the fish-lady knew how to get people moving: they scarfed down the remaining pancakes and some leftover oranges, then loaded right up and took off toward the Underground.

“Man…” Undyne was holding it together better than he had the first time he found himself inside a barrier, only betraying her fear of the dome overhead with a tighter grip and her eye darting back and forth. “I can’t believe it. She really is the High Priestess, huh?”

“Yep.” Sans was very pointedly nonchalant, sauntering along as the barrier crackled and the fish monster twitched. Served her right. “She coulda killed me a zillion times over, but she never did. Hell, I tried ta kill her a few times, an’ she smacked me down without hurtin’ me.”

Undyne shook her head. “It’s just…Kris is back, and he’s a she, and she’s the High Priestess, and she’s crazy strong…but she’s still Kris. It’s a lot to take in, you know?”

“Tell me about it.” Sans adjusted his grip on the shafts. He was pulling one wagon, and Undyne was pulling the other one alongside him; all it’d taken to get her going was a hint that she couldn’t do it. She was puffing a bit, but doing well now that they were moving. “So how’d you suddenly know it was her?” the skeleton asked.

“It was from the first time Papyrus introduced us,” Frisk said from the driver’s seat behind him. “I thought Undyne must’ve been upset because she was thirsty, so I grabbed a flower vase and tried giving her some water. …In her face.”

Sans guffawed, freeing one hand to slap his femur. “How’d that work out? Did the nice fish say ‘thank you’?”

“No, she just looked surprised. I thought she was feeling better, so I went back and—”

“The little punk tried to do it again! It was the stupidest thing I’d ever seen, but the kid wasn’t scared of me at all.” Undyne shook her head. “Then the King ordered us to be friends with the humans, so I figured I’d be the best damn friend Kris ever had.”

“And you were.” Frisk sighed. “When we get there, Undyne, I have something for you. In fact, we brought gifts for everyone. Did Alphys ever read the last two Adventure Lady novels?”

“Nah, and it’s been bugging her for years, the poor—” Undyne’s eye widened. “No. You didn’t!”

Sans let them chatter, profoundly grateful that they weren’t doing that weird thing where women hated each other for no reason. Having Undyne on their side, both physically and for moral support, was worth a dozen other monsters. “Did you get him that outfit?” she asked Frisk, nodding at the boss monster. “He’s been growing nonstop, so after a while, he just quit buying new clothes. It drives Papyrus nuts.”

“He’s my bodyguard, and it pays pretty well,” Frisk explained. “Those were a bonus for helping me shop for everyone.”

“Nice!” Undyne couldn’t reach over and smack him in congratulations, so she contented herself with jerking her head. “Good job, boss. Way to find a nice—what do humans call it? A ‘sugar mama’?”

Frisk burst out laughing and couldn’t stop, Undyne joining in as Sans sputtered. Stupid women, he thought sullenly. Why couldn’t they hate each other instead of giving him shit?

A few hours later, Undyne called a halt. “At this rate, we can get there by nightfall,” she said, offering a hand to the priestess half a second before him. “Er…do you have to, uh, go?”

Frisk looked uncomfortable enough for Undyne to nod hastily and point behind the wagon with her spear. “Not much privacy out here. We’ll just pretend you’re not doing anything, okay? Here, I’ll dig a hole for you.”

If that was awkward – and it was – it was nothing compared to the piscine monster making the others talk to cover the sound of Frisk’s business, then leaning over and whispering to Sans, very matter-of-fact, “Is it just me, or is it weird that Kris turned out to be so damn cute?”

Sans wished the ground wasn’t so flat around here, because then he could find a nice big pit and jump right on in. Luckily, Frisk suddenly said to herself, “Oh, dirt, why now?” and stuck her head beneath the wagon to call, “Undyne? Can you please get the little gray bag out of my satchel for me?”

The Captain obligingly found the only satchel with human clothing in it, rummaged around, and tossed the bag over the wagon and into Frisk’s lap. The young woman mumbled her thanks, but sounded so aggravated that Undyne asked, “What’s up? Are you okay?”

A prolonged sigh. “It’s nothing, just a stupid, ridiculous thing that human females have to put up with.” Frisk came back around a few moments later, stuffing the bag into the satchel. “Now, once we reach the Underground, should we all come in through the Grand Hall, or should Sans and I go through the Ruins into Snowdin?”

Sans exchanged glances with Undyne, who was munching on a roasted potato as if it was an apple. “You’d probably better not go straight to Asgore,” she said reluctantly. “When Snowdrake came back, he was pretty messed up, and the King was…uh…”

“Not happy?” Sans guessed.

Undyne’s eye closed. “Yeah. Not happy.”

“We’ll tell him what happened,” piped up Vulkin from inside the wagon. “We all heard the humans talking. Lady Frisk’s in big trouble for bringing us home, but she’s doing it anyway.”

The monsters made generally affirmative noises, and Frisk managed a smile.

“You are?” Undyne scowled. “Here, we’ve got to get going if we want to make it home before dark. Why don’t you give me the whole story on the way?”

They did, starting with Frisk being brought to the convent after her stint in the Underground and her memories being removed at her father’s request— “Oh, crap, that’s right,” Undyne interrupted. “That scumbag said the King’s your dad. Is that true?”

Frisk looked down at Sans in alarm. “Yeah, that’s what the guy told me,” Sans confirmed, not turning his head. “He was talking about her being worth a lot for ransom.”

The priestess grimaced. “I might not be, after all this.” She swallowed. “I wasn’t sure if you knew. I’m sorry if I—”

Sans made himself shrug. “It’s fine, kit—kiddo. Not like ya ever actually lied about it.”

“I don’t get it,” said Undyne. “If your dad’s the king, why aren’t you a princess?”

“Because I was one of many, many children the king had with women he wasn’t married to,” Frisk replied. “To be a princess, I’d have to have come from his actual wife. The first queen died childless, and his second wife died having the Prince.”

Undyne started. “Wait, so he…with just anyone, and you didn’t even count? What the hell is wrong with humans?”

“There’s the million-g question,” Sans mumbled.

Frisk sighed. “Anyway,” she said, “once I stopped begging to go back to the Underground, I settled down and studied as hard as I could. I was ordained a priestess when I was sixteen—”

The story continued until it was time for Sans to pick up with how he’d been caught by a party of five sorcerers almost a month ago. “I figured I’d hang out in jail until someone came ta get me, then kill ‘em,” he said conversationally, “but guess who came strollin’ downstairs?”

“The Duke asked me for help. There was a huge monster in the cells, and no one could decide who would be suitable to take him,” said Frisk. “I figured he must be a boss monster, and I scared them with stories about how powerful he was and how lucky they were that he hadn’t destroyed half the castle already. Then I said I’d take care of him.”

“And you tried to kill her?” Undyne snapped at Sans.

“Tried to burn ‘er, squish her, and blast her,” the boss monster said, almost proudly. “Nothin’ worked. Next thing I knew, I’d signed up fer a month of bein’ a witch ta learn how to grow better crops.”

“Which turned out to be much closer to three weeks, thanks to His Majesty,” Frisk said sourly. “I had each of these monsters taken from humans who were mistreating them so badly that even the Church wouldn’t allow it anymore, and I brought them out here to keep them from being sold again.” Even over the sound of the wheels crunching on sandy rock, they could hear her teeth grinding. “The King knew what I wanted to do, but he thought I shouldn’t have to worry my pretty little head about it anymore, so here we are.”

Sans considered pointing out that the King probably just wanted to keep her out of trouble, but decided he’d rather not be murdered. Undyne’s sole contribution was “…Damn.”

They rolled along in silence. “In three days or so, we can go back to the village and pick up the grain and other things Sans ordered,” the priestess said. “It won’t feed the entire Underground, but it will help.”

“That reminds me, Undyne—ya know the big farm over that way with the maple trees?” Sans nodded in a direction. “She’s gonna get it fer us.”

The Captain gaped at him. “She what?”

“I shit you not,” said Sans. “The human who owned it croaked, an’ she’s been negotiatin’ ta buy it. Turns out bein’ High Priestess makes ya super rich.”

Undyne muttered something under her breath, taking a fresh grip on the wagon shafts. Then her head swiveled, and without being told, Frisk immediately began whistling again. The air around them, which had been a translucent gold, solidified until it was nearly opaque. “They can’t see or hear us at all?” asked the fish monster, glancing up warily.

Frisk shook her head, and paused long enough to say, “They’d have to literally be touching the barrier to know we’re here.”

“No kidding?” Undyne squinted to watch the far-off group of humans through the barrier. Sure enough, they were moving away. “So,” she said presently, “how long are you gonna stay this time? Another month?”

“’Bout ten days,” Sans answered for her.

Undyne nodded slowly. The whistling stopped, and the human said, “Yes, if all goes well. It depends how long Asgore will let us stay, and what we’ll be allowed to bring back to the castle afterwards.”

“‘We’?” repeated the Captain.

It took Sans a second to realize what Undyne was even asking. He and Frisk had yet to discuss whether he’d be coming back to the castle after her visit, but the possibility of leaving her hadn’t even occurred to him, and she obviously felt the same way. “Yeah, I’ve gotta learn more witchy crap,” he said, hiding his elation. “Plus, the more monster stuff she gets ta show the other humans, the less trouble she’ll get in fer cartin’ these guys off in the first place.”

“And I’m not pulling the wagons back on my own,” Frisk added.

“Got it,” Undyne murmured, and Sans breathed an inward sigh of relief. Another thing they needed to hash out: what to tell the other monsters about…whatever they were now. Everything still depended on him working on himself, didn’t it? It would be easier to learn to control his magic in the proper directions inside the Underground. Who knew? Maybe if he kept thinking happy thoughts and not actively loathing himself, it’d really be possible. Maybe, if he was in good enough shape by the time they straightened things with Asgore, they could really—

The priestess resumed whistling, snapping him out of it. Undyne began bobbing her head along with the melody, and immediately started getting the rhythm wrong, but Sans decided not to say anything; he had a lot more thinking to do before they got home.

~

Very much against her will, they left Undyne just out of sight of the Underground’s principal entrance. She would announce their arrival, see the monsters to each of their homes, and then report to Asgore; knowing the King would insist on the wagons being inspected before he allowed them inside, they would also remain here.

Undyne checked over the little group of monsters as they climbed out, then paused. “Hey. Sans? Are you…gonna talk to Her Majesty?”

Frisk knew a loaded question when she heard one. Sure enough, Sans took a much longer time to reply than usual. “Yeah, I kinda have to. If she’s asleep already, I’ll leave ‘er a note.”

“Okay.” The Captain picked up her helmet from one of the shafts, pulled it back on, and nodded to them. “I’ll be in Snowdin as soon as His Majesty’s done with me. Good luck, guys.”

“We’ll see you soon,” Frisk replied, giving her a smile and ignoring the butterflies in her stomach. This was it. They were here!

The monsters trotted off, and they very faintly heard Undyne hail the sentries from atop the rise. “Welp,” Sans said. “This way.” Frisk obediently grabbed her satchel, which she’d stuffed with apples and potatoes, and set off after him, trying to be happy and grateful and not on the verge of barfing.

~

It was another cold, boring day in Snowdin. The monsters were pretty sure they knew what was going to happen today – nothing – and that it was going to keep happening, and it was hard to care much about it anymore. Sure, Papyrus kept nattering about how Sans and a mysterious human had told him they were going to come back to the Underground soon and everything would be all right, but…Papyrus. The denizens of Snowdin carried on with nothing as usual, secure in the knowledge that—

Every monster in town stopped what they weren’t doing and looked around in confusion. Magic was building in the air like smoke from a barely contained fire; there was a hhhwp, and in the empty space in front of the skeleton brothers’ house, there now stood a boss monster in black slippers and a tiny human peeking out from beneath his overcoat. “I told you to wait,” she scolded him, moving the coat aside like a giant curtain.

“What? You were the one whinin’ about how cold it was,” retorted the skeleton.

“Hey!” To their surprise, Undyne sprang up from where she’d been sitting on the step. “Where have you nerds been?” she snapped. “It’s been five frickin’ hours! Were you talking to Her Majesty, or what?”

“Nah, we got lost in the Ruins,” said Sans. “Tori’s asleep, so I left her a note like I said. What’re you doin’ here already? Is everyone okay?”

Undyne looked at them narrowly, then said, “Yeah, it turned out Asgore was already in the Grand Hall, so we didn’t have to waste time finding him.” She had changed into the outfit Frisk remembered: a short jacket, wool shirt, long pants and red boots. “Everyone’s home by now. I left Ice Cap with his family a few minutes ago.”

Frisk nodded gratefully. “What did the King say?” she asked, setting her satchel down.

Undyne hesitated. “Well…he was happy to see everyone, but then they started talking about how the High Priestess was coming in through Snowdin, and he wasn’t happy anymore.”

“How not-happy is he, exactly?” Sans demanded. “Is Frisk in any danger?”

“Nope. The others kept going on about how you saved them from the other humans, and when I told him you were Kris, he got really quiet.” Undyne put her hands in her jacket pockets. “He said you could stay until we ‘know your true intentions.’ I have to babysit you, and he wants to talk to Sans as soon as possible, but that’s it.”

Sans and Frisk breathed sighs of relief. “Good enough,” said the boss monster. He stood on tiptoe, the better to see most of the way across Snowdin. “Where’s Pap?”

Shrug. “I don’t know. No one’s in the house. He must be at the store or something.”

Frisk rubbed her arms unconsciously, turning in circles to look around them, especially at the light-spangled house. “I can’t believe it,” she murmured. “I—” She swiped at her eyes.

The Royal Guard Captain stepped over to the High Priestess and put an arm around her shoulders. “You know what? May I be the first, K—Frisk, to say: welcome back.” She gave the human what was, for her, a gentle squeeze. “C’mon. We’ll introduce you to everyone again. We can take it nice and slow, no pressure to—HEY!” Undyne had spotted a nearby cluster of monsters staring at them. “What are you looking at? Haven’t you ever seen a human before? I know you have!” She pointed at Frisk, who was still tucked beneath her arm. “Remember Kris?”

Frisk quickly forgot her irritation as several monsters hurried over. “Kris! Bro!” One dinosaur-like creature shouldered its way through the crowd, hopping from foot to foot. “Is that really you? Do you remember me? Hi, Undyne!”

Of course she remembered Monster Kid, who was only a little bigger now, still wearing the same armless sweater—twelve years obviously didn’t go as fast for monsters as it did for humans! There was the bunny who ran the store, Gyftrot – stuff still dangling from his horns – a couple of the various dogs she’d petted and thrown sticks for…

Once the first wave of pleasantries had subsided, it was time to tell them the reason for her visit, what Sans had been up to, and why “Kris” had turned out to be a lady. She noticed a few of those who hadn’t greeted her falling back to go spread the news, but saw no signs of Papyrus.

She wasn’t the only one: right in the middle of a very important discussion on someone’s baby sister being ready to hatch soon, Sans let out a growl that shut everyone up at once. “Where’s my brother?” he asked.

Shrugs and mumbles all around. “He was staring at the river again,” volunteered Gyftrot.

Sans waited for more information, then nodded. “Okay, everyone,” he told the little crowd. “We’re gonna head inside for a minute. If anyone sees Pap, don’t tell him I’m back yet, don’t mention Kris, and don’t do anything to freak him out. Got it?”

A chorus of agreement. “Don’t freak out,” someone said helpfully to Papyrus, who had just stepped into view.

Papyrus froze, staring up at Sans. “BROTHER?” he said. Then: “BROTHER! NYEHHH HEH HEHHHHH!” He leaped up and threw his arms around Sans’ massive ribcage, doing a pullup of sheer joy. “YOU’RE HERE! YOU’RE REALLY HERE THIS TIME, LAZYBONES! I THOUGHT…THE GREAT PAPYRUS THOUGHT—”

“Yeah,” Sans mumbled. “Hey, Pap.” He hugged him back for a long moment, then glanced downward. “She said she’d bring me back safe, didn’t she?”

Papyrus looked at Frisk, who was grinning. He looked at Undyne, who was grinning and nodding. The younger skeleton released his brother and launched himself straight at his best friend, tackling her with a wail of “THANK YOU, UNDYYYYNE! NYEHH!” Before the Captain could correct him, Papyrus dropped her and caught Frisk up in a less forceful but similarly enthused hug. “THANK YOU, HUMAAAAN! I—” He stopped, and turned his head to look at her quizzically. “NYEH. WHY AM I THANKING YOU, HUMAN?”

“Ya met ‘er the last time we talked, Pap, in the dream,” Sans reminded him. “An’ you were right. She is Kris.”

Papyrus blinked, still holding on to her. “I SEE,” he said sagely. “NYEH HEH HEH! OF COURSE THE GREAT PAPYRUS WAS RIGHT! I…I…” His eyes rolled up, and Sans caught Frisk just before she hit the snow along with the fainting skeleton.

“Geez. He probably hasn’t eaten anything or slept in a couple days. No worries, we can fix that!” Undyne punched Sans reassuringly in the ribs, then bent and rummaged in her friend’s “armor,” helping herself to the house key before slinging Papyrus over her shoulder. “Listen up!” she shouted at the assembled monsters. “This is all very exciting, but these guys’ve been traveling for a couple days straight to bring the others back to us. We’ll see everyone in the morning, okay?” She poked Sans as he turned to teleport into the house. “Not you! Asgore’s waiting. Get your bony butt over to Alphys’ place before he comes looking for you.”

Frisk gripped his sleeve, but she made herself say calmly, “It’s fine. We’ll be here when you get back,” as she picked up her satchel.

He stared at her for a moment, then gently removed her hand, and was gone.

Undyne let them into the house, flipping the witchlights on and kicking the door shut as Frisk walked into the living room. It wasn’t the biggest or nicest of dwellings, and it didn’t help that Papyrus had probably been stress-cleaning—it would explain why the couch cushions were still damp from the last time he’d mopped them, and why the pet rock by the kitchen was barely visible under a pile of rock-candy shards. Had Sans set those out for his brother to use, just waiting for the pun to sneak up and hit him out of nowhere?

“Here you go, Pap,” Undyne said briskly, tramping up the stairs while Frisk marveled at how much smaller everything was than she remembered. The priestess heard her deposit Papyrus in his pirate-ship bed, slam the door behind her, and come back down to pull a kitchen chair out for Frisk. “Have a seat. Sorry, but they don’t have anything in the fridge.”

“That’s all right,” Frisk said. She unbuckled the satchel and offered Undyne an apple.

The Captain took it politely, but as Frisk glanced down to dig another one out for herself, the monster chomped the apple nearly in half, wiping her mouth on her sleeve. “So,” she said casually, “what were you and Sans up to in the Ruins? No one’s dumb enough to just get lost in there for that long.”

Frisk felt her face grow stiff and hot. “I had to stop and rest because I used too much magic today,” she answered truthfully, and Undyne nodded. “I…actually, maybe you’d know this—is it possible for someone to directly give someone else some of their magic?”

The Captain paused, her eyebrows rising, a smile growing into a giant grin. “Haven’t you heard of—”

Frisk’s face got even hotter. “Not like that! I just mean, if you were weak and needed a little extra power, could, say, Asgore or Alphys give you a handshake, or a hug, and lend you some magic?”

“Nope. They couldn’t.” When Frisk looked skeptical, Undyne sighed, then made a fist. “Look, pretend this is my SOUL.” Another fist. “This one is…we’ll say Alphys.” Frisk wondered if it was her imagination, or if her friend’s face was turning red, almost purple under the smaller blue scales. “My body’s made of magic, and so is hers. But my SOUL is self-contained, and so is hers. Even if I took a chunk of my magic and handed it to Alphys—” She knocked her fists together. “Nothing would happen. She can heal me, but that’s just repairing damage, not giving me power that I could use to attack someone or do my own spells, assuming I knew any. There’s no way to combine or exchange magic unless you’re trying to have a kid, and that’s a whole different thing. It takes a lot of power and concentration, and…it’s different.” She was definitely purple now. “Why are you even asking?”

The priestess thought about it. She made a fist, and loosened her fingers until she could slide the fingers of her other hand through it. “After you left today, I was tired, and Sans gave me some of his magic again,” she said distantly. “Monsters can absorb a human SOUL, but…” Her fingers wiggled. “I don’t think it works both ways. Humans can’t take a monster’s SOUL, at least not directly into ourselves.”

Undyne suddenly looked very, very uncomfortable. “That’s true,” she commented, “for normal monsters. For Sans, the rules are a little different.”

Frisk was so startled that she dropped her hands. “Are you saying I was able to take some of his SOUL because I’m human and he’s a boss monster?!”

“Hell no!” the Captain snapped. More calmly, she said, “It doesn’t work like that. If you really took something from him that he couldn’t get back, he’d be acting a lot weaker, or he’d be dust already.” She shrugged. “If he did somehow give you magic and you had to wait for him to recover, and he did, then nah, there’s no permanent damage.”

That was something to think about. Frisk remembered last night, when she’d just wanted him to hold her. There was that jolt of energy, and he’d almost immediately passed out… She thought of a few hours back, when she’d gotten anxious and her magical exhaustion had suddenly kicked in, forcing her to sit down. Sans had – somewhat correctly – assumed that she was getting cold feet, gotten impatient, and picked her up, and when she turned to put her arms around him, it’d happened again.

Then, of course, they’d been in a uniquely ridiculous quandary where she was brimming with magic that wouldn’t help them get anywhere, and he couldn’t even stand up. Thank God she’d had something for him to eat in her satchel, or they might have been stuck out there all night waiting for him to recover. When she half-jokingly suggested she try giving his magic back to him, he’d almost bitten her head off.

Wait. Wait a second. If his magic was supposed to be so dark and terrible and evil, etc., how had she not felt anything like that from him, much less been poisoned? Frisk had the sudden, idiotic, schoolgirl-ish urge to giggle—did the good magic come out of the top half of his body, while the evil stuff came out of the other thing?

Undyne was shaking her head in wonder. “You need to tell all this to Alphys. She’d have a better idea of what’s—”

Crack went the window.

Both women whipped around at the sound of shouting outside. Undyne wasted no time, slamming her chair back and throwing the door open to roar, “What the hell is going on?”

A moment of quiet; it might have ended there if Frisk hadn’t peeked around her friend’s shoulder. A group of four or five young monsters stood a few yards away, holding stones, their body language scared but defiant. Their ringleader was a feathery snow monster who looked very familiar. “Chilldrake, isn’t it?” the human asked.

The hoodlums drew back as Undyne’s face darkened. “What do you want, kid?” she snapped. “If you’ve got a good reason for breaking Pap’s window, I’m listening!”

“We want her gone,” the drake said, shifting his feet and glaring at Frisk. “Haven’t you seen Snowdrake? He’s not Snowdrake anymore! How can you let a human in here after what they did to him?!”

“And what if she blows us up?” his friend added.

Undyne grabbed a spear from thin air and thrust it in the monsters’ direction. They shrank back, but stood their ground. “That’s not up to a bunch of kids like you,” the Royal Guard Captain snarled. “His Majesty said she could stay. Are you telling me you know better than Asgore?”

They shuffled back again, but a moment later, Chilldrake drew himself up. “Does he know she’s the humans’ High Priestess?” He raised his voice for the monsters standing nearby to hear: “Does he know she makes barriers?”

That got an anxious murmur going. Frisk felt sick; this was everything she’d been afraid of, no matter what Undyne said, or Sans. She glanced around instinctively, but he wasn’t there.

“He knows way more than you do, punk!” snarled Undyne. She advanced down the steps, leaving Frisk in the doorway. “Now get out of here before I get you out of here!”

“Fine!” Chilldrake shook his ruff, dancing a little in place. “If she’s here, it’s not safe anyway! We should all leave before she traps us and drags us off!”

The murmurs were louder and more upset now. The Royal Guard Captain looked at the other monsters in disbelief. “Guys, you were just telling her how glad you were to see her again! She’s the same damn person she was fifteen minutes ago! Are you going to listen to this little—”

“Is she really the High Priestess?” the shopkeeper asked Undyne.

The piscine monster’s face said it all. Too late, she snapped, “It doesn’t matter! She only uses her magic to—”

Everything happened at once. A stone came sailing over Undyne’s head, straight at Frisk, who did not stop to think that it was better to get a black eye or a bad cut than to confirm their worst fears. Reflex kicked in, and a barrier flared in front of her, pinging the rock away.

Her one piece of luck was that every monster froze in place instead of screaming or running to spread the tale of the human who had snuck Underground to use barriers on them—every monster but Chilldrake. “See?” he screamed, flapping his wings so hard that ice crystals flurried off them. “What did I just tell you?! Get out, human! We don’t want you here, and if I have to go tell His Majesty that you’re using barriers, I’ll—”

Whump.

It wasn’t a rock, or a spear, or a barrier. A ball of pure flame struck the ground in front of Chilldrake, who yelped and hopped backward, crashing into his friends.

The monsters’ heads turned toward the magic’s source, the edge of the field to Frisk’s right; each one immediately dropped to their knees or the equivalent thereof, with the hoodlums dropping the rocks and throwing themselves flat on their faces.

Undyne took one look, shook her hand to dispel the energy spear, and went to one knee as another monster advanced. “Your Majesty,” she said in wonder, then apprehension. Her head ducked. “Majesty, I can fully explain and take responsibility for—”

A gesture silenced her. The monster came to stand in front of the house, her amber eyes coming to rest on the High Priestess, features impassive.

Frisk’s heart constricted. She was suddenly ten years old again, not knowing whether to be afraid, whether she should bow or do something royal. She came down the steps, and to her horror, she found herself breathing harder, eyes prickling, throat tightening. “Lady Toriel,” she whispered.

Toriel folded her arms at the waist. She wore a plain robe, adorned only with the Delta Rune in white—the same thing Asriel had worn the day she fell into the Underground, only purple instead of black. The former Queen regarded Frisk for a long, terrible moment. “Where is the human named Kris?” she asked sternly.

It took all of Frisk’s training, all her experience as an exalted and lonely member of the Church’s highest echelon, to speak up. “The human child you knew was not a boy, and his name was not Kris. He was a girl, and his name was Frisk.” She swallowed. “I am Frisk.” Damn it, her voice wouldn’t stay steady. “I’m back, Lady Toriel. Please—”

Toriel took a step toward her. Another, and another. Her white-furred hand came up to brush Frisk’s hair from her face. The boss monster stared into her eyes…

And she stooped, opening her arms and folding Frisk into a huge, warm, cloud-soft hug.

Everything pent up behind Frisk’s defenses rose in a surge that crumbled the walls like wet paper. She still smelled like cinnamon and golden flowers, Frisk realized, and she wasn’t ashamed to grab hold of the velvet robe and get it soaked with tears again.

“My poor child,” the boss monster murmured, stroking Frisk’s hair as the priestess’ shoulders heaved. “My poor, dear girl. I’ve missed you so much.” She hugged her tighter. “I cannot tell you how very glad I am to see you again.”

Frisk was sobbing without restraint now, not caring what anyone saw or heard or thought of her. Toriel rested her hand on the back of the young woman’s head and looked up for the first time, her eyes bright with unshed tears. “Am I to understand that this human is not welcome here?” She didn’t raise her voice. She didn’t have to. “Would anyone like to say anything?”

Chilldrake had collapsed in on himself. His beak moved, but all he could muster was “…High Priestess, Majesty.”

Toriel’s hand grew heavier. “Is this true, my child? You’ve become the High Priestess?”

Frisk didn’t have the courage to raise her head. She just nodded.

The boss monster inhaled, and sighed, her diaphragm moving under Frisk’s cheek. “Then we are very fortunate to have you, Frisk.” She glanced up, once. “Wouldn’t you agree, young man?”

Chilldrake did not nod so much as vibrate his head too fast for it to be visible.

“Splendid. We…what, my child?” Toriel listened as Frisk turned her head to mumble more clearly. “They broke Sans and Papyrus’ window? My word.”

Frisk didn’t see who rushed forward, but she heard a scramble to be the first to check the cracked glass and figure out how to fix or replace it or something right now.

Toriel waited for the priestess to get herself under control, then stepped back and took Frisk’s hand. “Captain,” she said, and Undyne was instantly on her feet, fist on her chest. “We have much to discuss. Please accompany us.” And with as much grace and ceremony as if the old house had been a marble palace, the boss monster went inside, allowing Undyne to glare once more at the crowd, then shut the door gently behind them.

[minsimagines]

scared - part one | k.r

A/N: first kylo fic. I think it’ll be two parts, unless I feel like adding on more, who knows. <3 Pairing: Kylo Ren x Y/N Warnings: A curse word. Nothing else, I think?? Words: 2k.

Parts: one, two, three, four

“Is this the girl?”

You heard the metallic voice before you saw him. You looked up from your chair, watching as a tall man clad in black from head to toe stepped into the room. Was this the supreme leader? He was wearing a mask. A quite frightening mask.

“Yes, Supreme Leader,” a man by the door said. You looked between them as the masked man sent the other one out of the room. There was a long silence after the door shut. The room felt much smaller in this man’s presence.

“Do you know why you’re here?”

“I… I don’t think so,” you said, your voice quiet. This man frightened you, but you didn’t feel any need to be afraid – you hadn’t done anything bad. You had been asked to follow the stormtroopers, and you had. You didn’t make a fuzz.

“I believe you have something that could be very useful for me,” the man said, walking towards one of the walls. It wasn’t much of a wall actually; it was just a huge window looking out at the ships surrounding the one we were on.

“When I began working here, they didn’t allow me to bring anything,” you said, a confused frown on your face. What could he want from you when you didn’t possess anything? He couldn’t be talking about the small necklace you had hid under your pillow. What would a supreme leader want with a necklace?

“I’m not talking about an object,” he said turning to you, his voice calm. Your confusion spiraled.

“Well… then I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean.”

“Have you heard of the force?”

“The force? I heard about it in a story,” you murmured, looking out the window, trying to recall what you had been told.

“Magic, apparently very powerful,” you said, biting your lip. He kept quiet as you thought. “I heard someone could even move things without touching them,” you continued, a shy smile on your face as you looked at him. It sounded silly to you. “It was just a story though.”

“What if I tell you it’s not?” He asked and the frown on your face appeared once again.

“Then I would have to ask you to prove it,” you said, lifting your shoulders in a small shrug. “I haven’t ever heard of or seen anyone do it in real life.”

“What if I tell you, that you have the ability to use the force?” he asked and you were quiet for a while, trying to process what was going on. Had the supreme leader really taken you of all people, to talk about fairytales?

“I’m sorry, sir, I don’t think I understand what you mean,” you said, hoping you weren’t offending him. You had heard some rumors about him being quite the ruthless man.

“I have a proposition for you,” he stated as he moved to stand in front of you, towering over your smaller frame on the chair.

“Okay?”

“You come work for me, as my apprentice, and I will make sure your abilities are put to good use,” he suggests, and you stared at him for a good minute, wondering what in the hell you could do for a guy like him.

You agreed. He promised the conditions of both the new living quarters and the work would be better, though once he began training you, you understoodd that only one part of that statement was true.

He had revealed his face to you at the first session and you had blushed the whole time. He was younger than you had expected, and a lot more handsome. His face was in a constant scowl, and you had an urge to know what he looked like when he smiled.

The training was t o r t u r e. You had to stay on your back on the floor for at least 15 minutes after the sessions, just trying to catch your breath. Your palms were blistered from holding onto the wooden stick he had you use for practice.

Practice for what?

You spent every day following him around the ship, learning whatever he could teach. There was a lot, and you didn’t even bother pretending you got everything – there was too much going on everywhere at once.

When you first connected with the force, you passed out from shock. The feeling had been too much for you, the surprise of such a thing being real. He had looked at you differently when you woke up, and he changed his attitude towards you after that. He was colder.

He was always cold, but he had seemed a bit looser around you. He never smiled or talked about anything other than what was happening in front of you, but after you had passed out, it was as if he didn’t even want to look in your direction.

This feeling made you realize you had really enjoyed the weeks of being around him. You had liked them more than a girl of your position should. He was mysterious, and his stare was intense, and you had felt so scrutinized under his glare, yet you had liked it. It was something special – it was him. You liked him.

He wasn’t like that anymore, he was distant. Worked you harder in the sessions, then left without a word. Your stomach felt heavy whenever he turned his back and walked out on you.  You didn’t get to follow him around as he made commands around the ship anymore, he had you follow Hux. You didn’t mind Hux, but he wasn’t Kylo.

“Focus!” Hux hissed quietly next to you, and you had leapt a foot in the air, your head snapping to the side to look at him.

“What?” You stuttered, and he rolled his eyes, walking away. You were left at the deck, looking at the spot where he had stood. What was wrong with you? Why had you not been able to focus? Was that why Kylo didn’t want to look at you anymore? Because you had disappointed him?

Speaking of the devil, he appeared on the other side of the bridge. You could never tell if he was looking at you when he had his mask on, but his head was turned directly towards you. You knew your expression was probably looking like that of a rejected child.

Before anyone could say anything, and before you could notice him move towards you, you bolted out of the control room, heading for your chambers.

---

You were awoken by loud noises, alarms blaring and the whole room shaking. You had been frozen, upright in your bed – your still half-asleep mind not being able to grasp what was going on. You weren’t able to snap out of it until your door opened and Kylo had stepped inside in a hurry, grabbing your arm and pulling you out of your bed.

Being painfully aware of the small amount of clothing you had on from sleeping, you tried to reach for your long pants, put he had pulled you along before you could put them on. There were people everywhere, running wildly about like frightened sheep.

The shorts you had on weren’t too short, but you felt very exposed. Your sweater covered your whole upper body, so you at least had that. Your pants were tucked under your arm as you half jogged after Kylo. His strides were long and fast.

When you stepped into the hangar, you could see the massive chaos outside the ship through the opening in the wall. You had stopped out of shock, gaping at the absolute war that had broken lose outside the ship. Kylo had growled at you and you ran after him towards his ship.

It wasn’t big, but there was enough room for three or four people, though you were the only two in it. He sat down and began pressing all sorts of buttons while you pulled your pants on outside your shorts. You had never been in a small ship like this. You had never been in a ship except the one that took you to this big one.

He ordered you to sit and strap in, so you sat in the seat next to his, fumbling with the belts. You had no idea how they worked, but you tried, what could you say. Kylo had reached over and angrily strapped you in, and you felt a blush rise on your cheeks in embarrassment. He was angry at you. You were slowing him down.

You didn’t understand why you were so upset. It wasn’t like you had huge aspirations for becoming whatever he was training you to become.

Kylo flew the two of you out of the hangar and into the middle of the war. You held onto the sides of the seat tightly as you gasped at the speed and all the laser beams flying by the ship. You were terrified and certain of death when a ship flew right in front of you, shooting directly at your ship, but Kylo was a good pilot. You had shut your eyes, your body stiff as a pole.

After a while, everything was quiet. So quiet, you thought you had died. Peeling open your eyes, you found yourself in the middle of space, no other ships around. You looked around, as if a ship would appear out of nowhere and shoot you down.

Glancing over at Kylo, you saw his head was facing forwards, his body more relaxed than yours, but he seemed to be deep in thought. Somewhere far off into his mind.

You wanted to ask him what was going on. You wanted him to speak, to tell you that you were safe, tell you anything. You felt tears well up in your eyes as the adrenaline from earlier was running out. You were scared. And rightly so. Even if you didn’t know a whole lot about anything on that ship, you knew the shaking had been the ship taking hits.

The enemies wanted you all dead, and they hadn’t cared about the civilians on the ship. What assholes! Your thoughts went to the girls you had worked with before moving up to train with Kylo, had they made it out? Would they survive? Would the ship survive the hits?

You were pulled out of your thoughts at the hissing sound of him removing his helmet. He looked at you. It was the first time in a month he had looked at you. You felt pathetic at the fluttering in your stomach.

“What’s going on?” You asked before you could stop yourself. Your voice was barely audible, but in the small space you heard it clearly.

“Nothing you need to worry about,” he answered, his voice low as he turned his attention back to the window.

“I don’t mean the battle,” you mumbled, looking down.

“Then what?” he asked, sounding annoyed and you swallowed thickly.

“You seem… different,” you whispered. “I don’t like it.”

He was quiet for a long time, just staring out of the window. You were slowly growing agitated at him. You were trying to mend the bond between you, even if it was just as master and apprentice.

“You don’t need to like it,” he commented and something in you snapped.

“If I did something wrong, just tell me. I don’t like playing games like this. If I did something to you, then look me in the eyes and tell me!” You demanded, looking at him with an angry frown.

“You want to know?” He hissed, looking at you and you leaned back in surprise, though the small space didn’t allow for you to move all that much.

“You passed out,” he said, and you threw your hands in the air.

“I’m sorry!?” You asked, incredulously.

“You fucking passed out, and I was scared to death! I don’t get scared, Y/N!” He growled, his eyes on fire. He leaned back in his chair, refusing to look at you. “I don’t get scared,” he murmured.

“I… What?”

[brief-candle]

ǫᴜᴇꜱᴛɪᴏɴꜱ - Akaza

yeehaw

was debating posting the 1 haikyuu request i did here but i’m really not a fan of it so i decided to just not. i’m not deleting it off my quotev though, because it’s a part of the learning process ^^

also akaza is harder to write than i thought >:0

series: kimetsu no yaiba/ demon slayer.

notes: MANGA-ONLY CHARACTER, yandere (platonic edition), young reader, implied death of a minor character, fluff.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ───── ⊰

"Hey, Akaza?" The words tumbled from my mouth before I could stop them. Before I even glanced to see whether he was actually listening (or willing to listen) or not, I continued with another question. It was one I already knew the answer to, and it was an answer I didn't like, but I couldn't help but ask it every now and again. Just in case he changed his mind, I suppose. Even if such a thing was pretty much impossible for him.

"Can I go outside?"

As soon as I asked, I found that I didn't even want to look in his direction anyway. The atmosphere shifted immensely once those words dropped from my lips, staining the relaxed air with tension and suspense with every passing second. Like an open wound on one's favourite piece of clothing, it seemed to stain more and more until utterly ruined, no matter how much was done to save it. Or something like that, anyway.

"You already know the answer." There wasn't any indication that he even heard what I'd said before he spoke.

"True." I stretched my arms out behind me for a moment, hearing a small crack as I did so. Thankfully Akaza didn't particularly care much for those types of things, so didn't scold me like my mother used to do. Always nagging about being ladylike and manners, the whole lot. But, as I rested my arms behind my head and stared up at the now-familiar ceiling, I supposed that I missed it every now and again. And now was one of those 'every now and again's. After all, my mother wouldn't care about me going outside as long as I was home before sunset and cleaned myself up afterwards. There was no bitter disappointment to compliment the lack of surprise, only the cheerful ecstasy of being able to escape into nature for a while.

"Then why ask?" The question may have sounded snappy from someone else, but Akaza wasn't really like other people. Yes, he's stubborn beyond belief, but he's not malicious. Not to me, anyway.

Father may have told you something different, though.

"Dunno," I shrugged, leaving the topic there. He hummed passively, going back to doing whatever he was doing. Speaking of...

Sometimes I even surprised myself with how quickly I could leap to my feet. This was one of those times, even in the moment of sheer boredom when looking for something- anything- to do rather than mope around all day and just listen to the sound of the rain's gentle tapping rather than act like a child once again.

"Hey, Akaza?" Rocking on one's heels was harder than I'd thought, especially when trying to converse with someone. Countless times, I almost rocked too far both front and back, nearly toppling over and probably breaking something from the little that we have.

From his seated position on the floor, Akaza looked up at me through his- very oddly coloured- eyelashes. Life was so unfair- why couldn't I have been given eyelashes like that?! Though maybe I'd pass on the colour, thanks. Pink probably wasn't very flattering without pink hair like Akaza's. Wait!

Was Akaza born with pink hair?

Now that I thought about it, I'd never heard that name before I met him. Either it was super rare or completely made up. Or I just didn't go and meet many people. All three were so plausible...

"Yes?" He'd asked, and it was then that I had to make a decision: what question to ask first? Depending on which one I chose first could dictate whether I got to ask any more, which I desperately wanted to do. When I wasn't talking to him, I wasn't talking to anyone. And when I wasn't talking to anyone, I was doing very little else. Akaza wouldn't even teach me his super cool fighting moves, which was probably the most disappointing at all. He said it was because I was a girl, which is so unfair! So many girls out there get to fight, or even just walk outside in the rain when they want! Life is so cruel!

Ah, I've been rambling in my head again, haven't I?

It was easy to tell when that was the case, as even though he tried his absolute best to be patient with me, he couldn't always succeed. And from the way his eyebrows were creasing, I was very quickly running out of time.

"Whatcha doing?" I didn't want to risk both irritating him with what he called 'stupid' questions (they aren't stupid in the slightest, Akaza, you jerk!) and wearing down his patience. A look of confusion crossed his face for a moment- surely he knows that wasn't what I decided on asking after all that time! He always seemed to know what I was doing and thinking. One night I had decided to sneak out, only to open the door, very stealthily, to find Akaza right outside and staring right at me. It was safe to say I didn't leave my room for a while after that. In the middle of the night in complete darkness, it was terrifying to see such unnaturally coloured eyes staring straight at you, wasn't it?

"Drinking tea." Oh, so he was. How did I not notice that before? Why did I even ask when I could just look right in front of me, where the answer was plain as day.

I couldn't help the familiar curl of my lip though as I came face-to-face with the type of tea he was drinking. My worst, most powerful and deadly enemy.

Green tea.

Just when I was about to ask for some tea too! Just when I thought that I'd like some tea for a change, he goes and makes and drinks green tea! Why has God forsaken me like this?

"What?" What?

Oh, he's talking to me. And staring at me rather expectantly, questioningly. Was there something on my face? Not likely, as he probably would've told me by now. Had I been staring the whole time then?

Ah. That was probably it. How didn't I realise such a thing?!

I really wanted to ask, but wasn't sure how to word it or even whether or not to ask at all! But time waits for no one, and so I decided to take the plunge anyways, rather than stand here wasting time like usual, "Do we have any roasted green tea?"

By roasting the green tea, its sins could be cleansed into a decent tasting drink. That was the only form of green tea that was acceptable to drink in my eyes. And if something was acceptable in my eyes then the whole of society should accept it also! Even Akaza, as he sits there drinking a demon's choice of drink. Disgraceful!

He furrowed his eyebrows slightly to form an apologetic expression, "No, sorry. I can go get some tonight, though."

"I can go!" The words flew before I could even catch them and think about what I was about to say, before I could shove them down before they surfaced and replace them with a 'it's okay, don't worry about it'. It was safe to say that it didn't seem to please him.

His eyebrows furrowed further, though the apologetic expression was wiped off his face for one of disapproval instead. "We've been over this, you're-"

"-not allowed to leave the house because demons may attack you, I know!" At the time, I didn't even recognise that I was raising my voice, something I'd never done with him before. But at the time, so many emotions were stirring and clashing, fighting over which one would finally tear me apart. I loved Akaza, I truly did. He was always there for me, even when Father disappeared into the night and Mother turned me out, screaming that it was all my fault. Before and after that, he held his arms open and brushed through my hair as I cried. So, surely, it was ungrateful and bratty of me to act like this, right? It was- I knew it was! But I couldn't help it; my mouth continued to run on autopilot, "I know all that! But a demon's never attacked me, Mother or Father before. And back then we lived in the middle of nowhere, where a demon could kill us all before we could do anything about it! Besides, I can go while it's light out, because demons don't go out in the sun."

That's what Mother and Father had told me anyway, as to why I could go out in the daytime but not in the night. The forest was like the night during the day at times anyway, though, with how tall both the trees and their shadows were.

Then again, Akaza didn't go out in the sun either. I'd never really paid it much thought, for out of all his traits that one seemed the least odd. I mean, come on! He has pink hair, blue sclera and skin so pale that it almost wouldn't surprise me if he turned to me one day and confessed to having died over a hundred years ago! What about that isn't as weird as maybe not liking the sun?

"Demons aren't the only thing you should fear." With such a tone of voice, I felt my nerves tense in apprehension and fear. Each word was as if laced with venom as he spat them out. I could feel my hands begin to tremble as I clenched them by my sides, attempting to suppress the shaking. It's fine, it's all fine! Akaza wouldn't hurt me, I'm like his little sister, right? Even if that wasn't the case, he says he doesn't fight women, so why would he lash out at me?

As he moved, I barely restrained myself from flinching. However I couldn't stop my eyelids reflexively slamming shut, heartbeat drumming even louder in my chest and blood pounding in my ears. When I opened them again, which was a few moments after, I found that he'd only moved to drink some of his tea.

I was being silly again, wasn't I? I should know by now that Akaza won't hurt me. He's had many chances to, and even more reasons. Especially when I first arrived.

"Humans can be more dangerous than even demons." After finishing off his point, he beckoned.

I suppose there was truth in his words. Quite a bit when I thought about what he'd said further.

I answered, moving towards him without hesitance nor complaint.

When I stood right next to him, I knelt down beside him. He reached for the side of my head furthest away from him and coaxed it onto his shoulder. It would have been uncomfortable had he not been taller than I, leading to my neck not being strained as much. The only real issue I would have pointed out is how cold his shoulder was. The first time I'd noticed that I'd flung myself into a panic to try and start a fire, barely listening when he tried to reassure me until he'd gotten frustrated.

Blue fingers attached to pale hands ran themselves gently through my hair. At first it'd been a complete surprise at how gentle someone so muscular and (at times) intimidating could be, but by now I was very much used to it. Any surprise had been long worn out after countless days of this routine.

I think Mother had done it before Akaza, and had stopped after Father disappeared. It was barely a couple of hours later that she left to search for him, returning soon after with sorrow in her eyes. I hadn't understood it at the time, as it had been a long time ago, but it was definitely sadness. The type of sadness I'd see in Akaza's eyes at times when he helped me with chores around the house, in brief glimpses when he thought I wasn't looking. They must have had something in common then, so why couldn't they have gotten along? Maybe then the misery in her eyes wouldn't have changed to such malice, and she wouldn't have locked me out. Maybe then she could have lived with me and Akaza now, and all three of us could have found Father and been a big happy family.

I felt my muscles relaxing, becoming less tense by each passing second. Akaza's touch often did that with how relaxing it was, how easy it was to fall into the rhythm that he created each time he did this. Even easier was the habit of falling asleep at some point while he did so.

So that was what I did.

I dreamt of first meeting the pale, pink-haired man, with his blue lines that seemed to terrify me more than how he used to loom over me. Of Father's rage when he found out, how he'd gotten angry and refused to let me or Mother leave the house. How one day he went to the village for food for us all and never came back. This time Mother let the pink-haired man into the house with warm welcomes, asking him to join us in our quest to look for Father. He agreed, and off we went through the snowy forest surrounding our home. It wasn't much of a quest, though, as we stopped when finding some pinkish, bloody mass in the centre of a clearing. It was gross, and a bit sad too. Mother seemed to agree. It's always sad when an animal dies, even if it's to feed another. Though it was the first time that I found out animals wore clothes.

I'd have to tell Father when we found him, especially since this one seemed to wear a kimono just like his.

"Hey, Akaza?" I'd asked, just a bit after waking up from that dream. It was a strange dream, one that I remembered few details of. 

He was there when I awoke from my nap, as usual. It was nice of him to wait next to me when I slept; he didn't have to waste his time doing that, when he could be...

... uh...

training? Is that all that Akaza does that I can think of? Or drink green tea like some sort of heathen, but still. I wonder if he was actually a really cool painter or something. Maybe I should ask him that one day, amongst the pile of everything else I wanted to ask.

"What is it?" His voice was calm and even, as per usual.

"Do you ever dream?" It was fleeting curiosity that led me to ask this question, rather than more important ones that I could ask in order to get to know him better.

The question seemed to catch him off-guard for a moment, as it took him a moment to respond with a tone just as surprised, "I don't know?"

"You don't know?" I repeated, confused by this. How can you not know if you have dreams or not?

"I may do, but I don't remember them."

I nodded, humming in thought as I did so.

"Why, did you have a dream?" He asked. Once more, I nodded. He probably wanted to ask what about, but I bombarded him with another question before he could:

"Do animals wear clothes?"

This, once more, seemed to surprise him. Maybe he didn't know. Before the dream I thought that I'd known that they didn't, but maybe it was a situation that only the rich animals wore clothes. Rich animals probably wouldn't wander in the woods near my house, after all, for that is where the common animals linger.

When I glanced over to him, he looked troubled, as if debating on how to answer this question. Just as I was about to speak up, he seemed to settle on an answer.

"Yes. And they are the most dangerous."

A bit confused, I merely nodded. It didn't really sound right at first, but I supposed that clothing may give them more protection for fights. Maybe they fight humans and steal their clothes to prove their worth. If anything, the more I thought, the more silly it seemed to get.

But if Akaza said it, it had to be right. That's why he doesn't want me leaving the house, so I don't get lost like Father, or be killed like that animal. Akaza knew what was best, after all.

[muddyhippy]

Night Terrors, Chapter 5: Check-ins and Check-ups

A Lily Of-Many-Names Mechanisms Story

(Re-posting again because Tumblr refuses to have this pop up in the mechanisms tag and I am determined to try all the things I can think of before I give up!)

Summary

Lily has another nightmare filled with darkness and bad ones later than her usual night terrors torment her and when her usual source of comfort is nowhere to be found she decides to try her luck with the one person she’s pretty sure will still be up…

Featuring;  Some science officer observations, discussions of nightmares, lots of comfort, medical practice, some past Jonny whump, and some soft mechs at the end!

Check-ins and Check-ups

 There was a tentative knocking at the lab door.

 Raphaella frowned, she checked the ship’s time, 4:54 am. That was unusual. The only one who bothered to knock like that was Lily and Lily would be in bed by now and—

 Ah.

 Raphaella moved in a fluid motion, rising from her workbench and opened the door to be greeted by a slightly soggy Lily, the tear tracks and snotty nose was evidence of what had happened, clutching a fuzzy lump of something.

 “Jonny not in his room?”

 Lily shook her head, “M’sorry.”

 Raph sighed. It wasn’t a great inconvenience, she was hardly interrupting a breakthrough, she’d just lost track of time documenting one of her less hazardous bio-concoctions. Without a word she scooped Lily and her fuzzy thing up and carried her back to the bench. Lily immediately cuddled in close to her, Gemini tucked against her chest, breathing in the science officer’s familiar scent of chemicals, leather and a hint of flowers from her long golden hair. Lily loved Raphaella’s hair, it was so beautiful and silky. She loved being allowed to play with it, threading her little fingers through the fine strands and trying to plait them carefully.

 “You want to tell me what it was about?” prompted Raph.

 “It was silly.” Lily thought the science officer was so clever and busy with all he experiments she felt shy and small and silly admitting what was wrong, she was a big girl and she should be able to handle one little nightmare. Even if it had really scared her. Lily hadn’t wanted to bother her, Raphaella was always kind when she did her checks on her but that was always at the same time, they were planned. So were all her fun science lessons. This was definitely interrupting and interrupting was rude.

 Raphaella sighed, disappointed at Lily’s conclusion, “If it upset you then by definition it is not silly. Just because dreams are caused by synapse transfer and your brain’s interpretation of events does not mean that the outcome can be deemed ridiculous if it has an impact on you.”

 “Oh.” Lily wasn’t entirely sure what that meant but it sounded like she didn’t think Lily was silly after all.

 “Quite.”

 “I dreamt the Aurora was all dark and cold and I could hear banging like a big, angry someone was trying to get in.” Lily explained quietly.

 “I see.” Raphaella frowned.

 Lily quailed a little, misinterpreting her expression and began to hide her face, “I said it was silly.”

 The science officer sighed, realising what Lily thought she’d meant, “And what did I say?”

 “Sorry.” The child cast her eyes down as she mumbled.

 Very gently Raphaella caught Lily’s chin and pulled her face up to meet her, “No, don’t be sorry. This is a perfectly rational thing to dream Lily. You’ve been very brave and you continue to be brave. My research indicates that nightmares are a way of processing something very frightening and unpleasant that as happened to you. What happened to you was not silly so your way of processing it is also not silly.”

 It had actually be a good excuse to research nightmares in general since she knew full well the whole crew got them, regardless of age. Her own ones were manageable if unpleasant, determined to remind her of things she’d much rather forget.

 Lily’s lower lip wobbled dangerously.

 Raphaella sighed and for once decided to take a leaf out of Jonny’s book.

 Logical rational explanations could wait until she was little older. And she knew Lily responded extremely well physical comfort, she’d seen evidence of that be beyond that farthest doubt.

 “Come here little proton, it’s alright.” Raphaella wrapped both her arms and wings about the upset child and began rocking her like she’d seen Jonny do. It seemed to work after all and if observed action had been proved to yield positive results then who was she to argue with empirical evidence?  

 “It’s alright. You’re safe. Aurora is never truly dark, Nastya, Jonny, Tim and Brian don’t really like the dark either so she makes sure it’s always bright enough. And no one can get into Aurora without our say so. Aurora wouldn’t let them in anyway.”

 “An’ you’d shoot them if they did.” Came a convinced voice.

 “We certainly would. Or do something more interesting but we’d make sure they never got to you.”

 “Promise?”

 Raphaella was not in the habit of keeping promises, they were ephemeral and inconsequential unless you could use them to get what you wanted but this one felt important.

 “On my honour as a scientist.”

 Lily’s eyes widened at the words, that was very important. Raphaella was the best scientist there was and science was very, very precious to her. So she very much meant it.

 “Thank you.” Lily snuggled closer

Raphaella sighed once more, not really put out, she began to card her fingers gently through Lily’s silvery hair. It had been more pleasant than she’d been expecting to show Lily an exact comparison for her hair colour in the natural world, sunshine reflected off the surface of the lake. She rather thought the explanation of how light travelled and refracted might have gone a bit over her head but Lily had been an enthusiastic listener all the same which was better than her crewmates most of the time. She had been thrilled at being compared to sunshine too.

 Lily tentatively inched her fingers towards Raphaella’s cascading tresses, seeking the comfort they represented, Raphaella was kind and she was safe, she looked after her using her science. Lily loved sitting on the science officers’ lap, it made her feel important and special when Raphaella spoke science to her, (like when the others told her about things they loved too) even if she didn’t always understand it, she especially loved it when she let her play with her hair. Lily wanted to grow hers just as long.

 The science officer gave Lily her warmest smile, the one she had cultivated especially for the child. “Go on little proton, I don’t mind.”

 Lily gave her a smile filled with wonder that quickly turned into one of happy, soothed exhaustion. Two hands, one large, one small, each carefully combing fingers through soft hair, both knowing a singular form of peace.

 It took precisely two minutes and thirty seven seconds for Lily to fall asleep under the science officer’s ministrations. Lily had never fallen asleep on Raphaella before, she wasn’t normally the lulling type, leaving it to the others when the occasion arose but this was immensely satisfying, she could now see why Jonny never really complained about holding her till she slept.

 She was glad this interaction was being recorded too, it would be useful to refer back to when comparing different calming methods they all used to see which was the most effective. She had a suspicion that despite all their research, Jonny’s instinctive cuddle and rocking combination from the first night was probably the more sure-fire way to settle Lily. Not that she’s tell him of course. He didn’t need to know just what a comparably good job he was doing. The thing Lily had been clutching was likely to be a Jonny concoction too, the man was deceptively good at needlecraft, he’d mended enough of the crew’s clothes over the years when sufficiently bribed with whiskey, he’d even fixed the Toy Solider’s uniform when it got torn badly enough, complaining that he’d done so only because he couldn’t stand it moping around lamenting the damage.

 He’d even carefully embroidered eyes on the thing Lily held which seemed to be some sort of geological shape. She could admit whilst in her own company only that the craftsmanship on it was rather remarkable. He’d obviously gone to some effort to make her something with crystalline accuracy in some sort of fuzzy fabric and given how tightly Lily had been holding it but she’d never seen it in the mess at meal times nor had it accompanied the child to her check-up sessions, it was her comfort-at-night object. That, that was surprisingly thoughtful of him. She smiled quietly to herself.

 He definitely didn’t need to know what a good job he was doing.

 Maybe a hint.

 He also didn’t need to know the general positives these interactions were having on the pair of them and by extension, the rest of the crew. They would all work it out eventually and if she said anything too soon the idea would be dismissed out of hand, no, it was much better to be able to make unobtrusive observations and predictions unhindered.

 Lily was beginning to grow at a healthy rate, she wasn’t back up to where she should be yet but after three months she was now making steady progress. At her last weekly check-up Lily was now projected to be back on track to reach where she should be for a healthy eight year old in the next three months. They’d successfully reversed the physical damage done to her by the three weeks of acute malnutrition but the longer effects of a lifetime of not having quite enough would take longer to mend.

 Still, it felt, well, nice to see her improving.

 The first time she’d insisted on a proper check had been only few days after Lily had joined them. She’d asked Jonny to bring her to lab so she could get a real idea of what they were working with for Lily, exact height and weight, not to mention resting heart rate, lung capacity, bone density and a blood test to make sure everything was functioning as it should be. Lily was human so there were some basics that could be taken for granted but Raphaella wanted a solid starting point for knowing how best to reverse the damage of long term malnutrition.

 She’d argued with Jonny about it for 47 minutes before he finally saw sense and agreed to bring her along. His hang ups over poor medical practice were one thing and even understandable but not to the point that it impeded Lily’s recovery.

 He’d grudgingly agreed, especially when the others added their voices in assent and Raphaella assured him that she’d keep to the bare minimum of procedures to assess Lily.

 Marius had argued that it was so they could help her not hurt her. Given how delicate the matter was nobody teased Marius that surely it should be him leading the investigation if he was, in fact, a doctor. As it was, they all recognised that Raphaella’s dedication to the scientific approach would probably yield better results long term.  Marius and Brian advised on what she should be looking for specifically all the same.

 It was Nastya who’d finally swung him into accepting the proposal. She pointed out that if they didn’t check her properly when they could have and it turned out that they’d ensured the damage done by her ship management was permanent then that made them no better than the idiots that had led her mission. A grim accolade no one wanted to earn, the more Lily talked about life on her ship the more everyone was convinced it was mission led by utter idiots doomed to failure.

 She added quietly that they weren’t like their creator, that Carmilla would only be interested in tests to see how she could exploit Lily. They needed to conduct tests to work out exactly how to help Lily properly and make sure she stayed healthy and happy.

 Jonny couldn’t argue with that. Well, he could. But he wouldn’t, Lily being safe and well and as healthy as she could be was too important. Kid was a bag of bones, a mortal bag of bones at that and he should know, she still spent half her time attached to him and he was honestly worried by how light she was. He had very vague memories of being young except for a few key things but if he really thought about it he was sure at eight he’d been taller and broader. That wasn’t a bullshit boy vs girl nonsense thing either, he was sure he’d been taller and heavier at her age and that was with his family set up. Something was wrong. Raphaella was right, they did need to check.

 He didn’t have to like it though.

 Raphaella wasn’t sure which of the two were the more nervous coming in to the Lab.

 She made it more into a game in an attempt to settle them both, it wouldn’t do for their nerves to set up a negative feedback loop.  She got them both to play catch with one of her more robust recorders so she could check hand to eye coordination and reflexes. She challenged Lily to scrunch up as small as she could then stand on her tip toes and then stand as straight and flat-footed as she could on her weighing scales.

 Raphaella had Jonny pick her up and hold her as though they were posing for photo whilst she deployed the scanner for Lily’s bone density, explaining that she wanted close ups of her smiling face. It covered her dental development too.

 Checking her ears and throat had been relatively easy, getting silly to pull as ridiculous faces as she could whilst trying to sing ‘Old King Cole’ worked on her throat and the otoscope was hardly invasive.

 Jonny had managed to keep things light enough asking if Raphaella had found some of Ashes’ missing gold down there. Lily had been indignant and Raphaella had played along, pleased he was trying to make things easier.

 The blood test was unsurprisingly a little harder of a sell.

 Lily went rigid with fear when she saw the needle.

 Hmm. Understandable but not helpful, it was one of her smallest ones as well.

 Jonny cleared his throat, his own spine stiffening and also not taking his eyes off the syringe. “Why don’t we have a go with the stethoscope first?”

 That was a surprising suggestion coming from him. Raphaella had been planning to brace herself and try to use that as a wind down but maybe there needed to be buffer. She decided to put it to Lily to decide.

 “Lily, I’m not going to hurt you. I need to take a little bit of your blood to check everything is working as it should be inside you. Your blood can tell me all sorts of important things that you yourself won’t be able to tell me.”

 Lily still looked scared. Raphaella found it wasn’t an expression she liked to see on so young a face. Raphaella had no problem being seen as intimidating or even down right terrifying by those who crossed her path or got in her way. That was half the fun, but on Lily? No, she didn’t like being the cause of that fear one bit. The test was still needed though.

 “But you’ve got a choice,” she continued in the tone she’d already modulated especially for the child, no-nonsense but gentle, firm but soft enough to put her at ease most of the time. “I can take this sample now then use the stethoscope to listen to your heart and lungs or I can listen first and then take the blood sample but either way I need to take it.”

 The child had tried to melt into Jonny, clinging to him, fingers burying in fabric and belts.

 Raphaella tried not to notice that the comforting hand that was running up and down her back was trembling.

 Lily turned to face Jonny. “What do you think?”

 Jonny tore his gaze from the poised syringe and did his best to look relaxed and nonchalant despite the fact his heartrate had audibly trebled, “I think it’s always better to get the thing that scares you done first. Raph’s right though, she’s only doing it because she wants to make sure you’re okay inside and out. It won’t hurt, it’s more like getting a sharp pinch on your skin for a second and then it’s done.”

 He didn’t mention that it was fine when blood was being taken from you rather than a bunch of different poisons being injected into you over and over again to see how quickly each one affected you and how quickly you came back. How each one burned and cramped and ripped through every single system until he was desperate for death. He was the first after all. Carmilla had to make sure her new creation was full-proof and indestructible. That he could come back from anything.

 “How do you know?”

 Jonny smiled ruefully, “I’ve had a lot of injections over the years, given lots of samples too. It doesn’t hurt.” ‘It’s what comes after’ remained unsaid.

 “Oh.” Lily clearly thought about it, weighing up the pros and cons. She eyed the stethoscope on the science officer’s workbench. She knew how that worked at least. There was something right next to her that might make her feel braver. “If Raphaella takes a sample can, can I listen to your heart while she does it?”

 Jonny was halfway to opening his mouth to say ‘no’ on sheer reflex when Lily added in a small voice, “I don’t want to watch. I don’t like blood. It goes bad and gloopy and changes colour too quickly. And it smells horrible.”

 Well fuck. He could hardly say no to that.

 “You won’t be able to smell it Lily, it’ll be in the syringe.” Raphaella tried to distract, she was well aware of Jonny’s dislike of anything to do with exam practice. She was actually impressed he’d not just dumped Lily on her and run, that he’d taken part so far. He had more courage than she gave him credit for, that or a greater sense of guardianship than she’d expected. Either way, he was making her job much easier and she appreciated it.  

 Raphaella had tried to get a better understanding of his Mechanism not long after she’d joined the crew, intrigued by the ticking of his chest. She’d come at him with a stethoscope and woken up in the wreckage of her workbench recovering from 6 gunshot wounds.

 She hadn’t pursued that line of research further.

 “Still don’t like it.” Lily half spoke into Jonny’s chest and half to the science officer.

 “That’s fair enough.” Conceded Raphaella

 Lily’s eyes were doing the thing again. The thing where they took up half her face, she gazed imploringly up at him. “Please?”

 Fuck. He really had to immunise himself against that. Later. Now though?

 He swallowed. “Sure.”

 Raphaella raised an eyebrow, fully prepared to snatch Lily out of his arms and rocket skywards if he looked like he was going to detonate like he did last time.

 Jonny gave her tiniest nod.

 This was Lily. He shook himself internally. It was Lily. Lily couldn’t hurt him if she tried. Okay, well she could but she wasn’t armed right now and she liked his ticking. He forced himself to watch her, to brace for the touch of the disc. He’d be ready, he’d know. If he closed his eyes there was no guarantee he’d be able to hold it together for her. This was Lily reaching to him for comfort, he reminded himself firmly. She needed him to distract her from something frightening but necessary. Lily wasn’t going to sigh and tut and then open him up.

 He wasn’t strapped to a table.

 He forced himself to breathe as calmly as he could, the way Ivy had shown him from one of her books when he’d taken refuge once in the earliest incarnation of the library.

 He was fine, he was holding Lily. He was free to move. He was holding Lily and being reassuring because needles were frightening. He was proving it was fine. It was fine.

 The disc made contact.

 It took everything in him not to bolt.

 “Jonny, your ticking is very fast.” A little voice piped up matter-of-factly.

 Before he got a chance to answer Lily had already drawn her own conclusions.

 “I know I’m not a proper doctor like Raphaella but I won’t hurt you. See?” She took the disc off then pressed it even more gently against him, then rested her head on him too, trying to be reassuring.

 Fucking Hell. That she thought she could hurt him? Like this? At all? But the pressure helped. Carmilla had never been gentle with his chest. She’d never been gentle full stop.

 Lily was.

 This was Lily and it was fine. He held her a little tighter. “I like this,” she spoke quietly, as if she was speaking directly to his heart but then again, when wasn’t she? “I can hear your ticking all around. It’s going slower now.”

 It took two tries to speak.

 “T-That’s because you’re doing a good job.” Raphaella was watching him like a hawk, despite the fact he’d drained of colour and there was a noticeable (to her experienced eye at least) tremor running through him he was still sat still and solid for Lily, making no sign that he was about to flip her workbench.

 “I am?”

 “Of course.” He managed the ghost of his usual grin, “I don’t let just anyone listen to me.” If only she knew how true that was.

 Lily beamed at him, utterly delighted. Just as Raphaella took her moment.

 Jonny was aware enough of the situation to catch Lily’s face as she turned to see the source of the sudden pinch, directing her back to look at him, the surprised ‘Eeep!’ already escaping her lips. “Keep looking this way Lemondrop, it’s alright. Keep listening to the ticking.”

 Tears pricked the corners of her eyes.

 “It’s alright,” he ran his fingers through her hair, hating that she was upset, hating that they were doing this. He’d always sworn he’d have nothing to do with anything like this but here he was. A necessary evil. “It’s alright, she’ll be done soon. You’re being very brave.” He didn’t dare rock her and risk jostling the needle so he hummed instead.

 She clung to him with her other hand, with a muffled whimper but did as he asked. It didn’t hurt, not really but the idea of something being stuck in her was an idea she didn’t like. Still, Jonny had her and she could hear his ticking loud and clear and he said she was being brave so that was good. She could hear him humming Rose Red as well and she couldn’t help but relax, Jonny had her, she could hear his ticks and the humming and she could smell his spicesmokewhiskey.

 It was okay.

 She was safe.

 They were looking after her because she was part of the crew, they cared about her. It was alright.

 All at once there was the feel of something going away and something pressing on her arm.

 “There we go, all done, good girl, you’ve been very brave.” Raphaella finished taping the small cotton gauze to her arm covering the tiny pinprick of blood.

 Lily took a moment to take in the sight of her arm and then the science officer, Raphaella had been right, it hadn’t hurt. It had been scary because she wasn’t sure what it would be like and she was scared it would hurt because they were bigger and stronger and braver than her and that they said it wouldn’t hurt because it wouldn’t hurt them when they had to have needles in them but actually, it had been a bit of a shock but it hadn’t hurt at all and Jonny had made her feel safe all the way through and he wouldn’t do anything to hurt her or let anything else hurt her anyway.

 She gave a sunny smile to Raphaella.

 “It didn’t hurt!”

 Despite herself, Raphaella was rather pleased, she allowed a knowing grin to bloom across her face, rather than the haughty scoff that she saved for the others, “I did say.”

 “You did!” Lily beamed wider.

 “Well I’m glad I was proved correct. Are you ready for me to take a turn listening to you?”

 “Yes.”

 “Good, I just need a listen to your chest and then we’re all done. Can I have the stethoscope back?”

 Lily carefully removed the buds from her ears and hand the piece of equipment back, she missed hearing Jonny’s ticking quite so loudly. She leaned against him instead.

 Raphaella decided not to comment on the sudden drop in tension from Jonny the second the disc was taken away from his chest.

 With gentle efficiency she had the device in her own ears.

 “Can you sit up straight for a moment please?” Lily did so, “then take some nice deep breaths for me.”

 Lily did the best she could.

 After a few minutes Raphaella sat back, satisfied.

 Her initial suspicions were well founded, Lily was almost chronically underweight and under-height but that could be fixed with care. Her lungs and heart seemed strong through and her reflexes as well as hand to eye coordination were sharp and focused, ears and throat were clear of infection too and that was the most common source of ailments for human children according to her research. Lily was a fighter and, pending the results of the blood tests had no reason not to make a full recovery. That was pleasing and definitely worth the few uncomfortable moments.

 She gave Jonny a short nod over Lily’s head.

 The relief in his face was something Raphaella was going to remember for long time to come. She might find him deeply irritating most of the time but he’d certainly proved himself when it counted. He was many things but could not be accused of being a selfish bastard. At least, not right now.

 “Alright then, all done here. I think you’ve earned something nice.”

 “Really?” Lily perked up even more.

 “Oh yes.”

 “What?”

 “I happen to know Brian’s been busy in the kitchen with Marius.” She happened to know exactly because they’d planned it earlier, it was only fair for Lily to get some sort of recompense for having to go through something unpleasant. It was something they all wished they had had when they were young (not to mention everything that had happened since they were young).

 The excited squeal that erupted was something that warmed both of the adults in the room and would certainly not get passed on to the chocolate cake bakers. It wouldn’t do to give them ideas after all.

 Not for the first time they found themselves hand in hand with Lily, swinging the excited child all the way to the mess.

 Raphaella came back to the present and smiled as she held the currently comforted and sleeping Lily, the child had got far more used to the weekly check-ups following the first one, it helped that her blood came back fine and healthy, no underlying issues to be concerned about so no more blood tests were needed.

 She still liked to listen to Jonny’s heart with the stethoscope during the check-ups.

 Jonny still endured it for her sake.

 Raphaella thought that over the weeks he’d looked a little more relaxed each time.

 The check-ups proved what they were seeing in real time. Lily was mending. She was putting on healthy weight and starting to grow, her skin was starting to have a glow to it again. It felt nice to have used her research and scientific approach for unquestionable good for once. She’d shared her findings with them all. The rest were pleased too. They’d made a comprehensive list of supplies with Ivy and Raph’s information that Ashes organised and sourced. Marius and Brian eagerly added more recipes to the collection and the others made a point of each eating vaguely healthy snacks every so often so as to not make Lily feel like she was the odd one out. Regular mealtimes helped too.

 It was satisfying to see that improvement over time, Lily was proving to be a fascinating research study that Raphaella was very much invested in. It was also immensely satisfying that the rest of the crew was just as invested her topic of study for once. Seeing Lily grow and heal and improve was something that was having a positive effect on the rest of the crew, she’d noticed (and made notes of course) that the crew interacted more frequently and more positively usually when Lily was present but sometimes even without her there. These developments were, pleasing, to put it into layman terms. Though Raphaella wasn’t entirely sure why. It would take further investigation of course but she did have eyes, the positive interactions were slowly improving the general well-being in the crew, communal mealtimes and friendlier banter seemed to be improving moods across the board.

 Most notably of course was Jonny.

 His general comportment had softened a little, his violent outbursts reduced and he definitely looked like he was sleeping more regularly. Raphaella estimated his alcohol consumption had dropped by a least a bottle a night which was rather impressive, it wasn’t like the alcohol did anything long term since all their mechanisms prevented permanent internal damage, especially when one was killed far too frequently to even consider organ failure due to extensive alcohol poisoning. But still, it was nice to see him looking more, centred, for lack of a better word.

 Heavy boots made their appearance on the peripheries of her hearing.

 Think of the devil…

 Raphaella took a moment to soak up the situation, Lily had fallen asleep against her peacefully and easily as if she were her mother. It was a completely new experience but not an unpleasant one it turned out. Raphaella had enjoyed introducing the scientific process to Lily over the past three months, teaching her the basic principles of chemistry and physics and now botany since she’d set up the hydroponics lab with Nastya and Ivy. That had been a fun collaboration and all three enjoyed Lily’s delight at each seed sprouted and new leaf grown.

 She’d added a whole new strand of research to her study too, the poisons and toxins of plants were fascinating and she was eager to put those to good use when the next opportunity arrived. There was always opportunity for hybridisation too. Excellent.

 The heavy boots stopped right outside the lab door followed by an uncharacteristically gentle knock.

 “Come in Jonny.”

 The first mate entered looking annoyed at the presumption that quickly melted into relief when he saw a sleeping Lily in her arms.

 The science officer gave him an appraising look. Despite the obvious panic at not knowing where Lily was Jonny still looked calmer and better rested than he had for centuries. Raphaella found she liked that look on him, he seemed far more settled, music rehearsals with everyone had become a lot more productive too, always a bonus.

 She still found it funny he refused to use his ship communicator to ask the group chat where Lily was on an evening she had a late nightmare-startled wander, clearly too proud to admit he’d lost her. It wasn’t as if she could get into any real danger any more. Both the Octokittens and Stowaways knew not to touch her and Aurora wouldn’t let her get lost anywhere too dangerous. Then again, the day he did they knew it would be a serious one.

 As it was the first mate was only looking marginally stressed and panicked, a whole lot better than she’d seen him look.

 Jonny took in the sight of Raphaella as he entered the lab. From the lights behind her and a sleeping Lily in her arms the science officer resembled an angel that he’d seen statues of on multiple worlds, beautiful and terrible, just as he remembered the preacher talking about on Sundays when he was small. He’d seen what Raph could do to somewhere or someone that irked her and he’d come to believe all those stories.

 Still, the look she was giving Lily as he walked in was something else, it was a face he knew she saved just for Lily, that slight softness, a pride in her eyes and smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

 Jonny knew Raphaella was incredibly pleased by the progress Lily had made both physically and with all the science lessons she’d been teaching, Lily had talked his ear off about all the things she’d made by experimenting. The physical checks were good too, in their way. Much as he hated them. If he really had to admit it, the checks were worth it, it was good to know Lily was on the right track at least, that they weren’t making a mess of her, at least not physically.

 “Thought she might be here.” Came his way of explanation,

 “Well congratulations.”

 “She been here long?”

 “Only half an hour or so.”

 “Good.” He stayed curt, not wanting to give her room to rinse him more than he was expecting, Raphaella had a way with words that could cut like one of her scalpels if he wasn’t careful, most of the time it didn’t bother him but if it was about Lily and how he handled her, it tended to cut to the core of him, much to his annoyance.

 “How did you lose her this time?”

 “I didn’t lose her!” he snapped, “She just got up when I wasn’t around. I do check the times on things you know, she’s usually up at 11, 1 and 3 so much that you can set a metronome by her. It’s not my fault she just got up out of sequence!”

 “And you weren’t in your room because?” pressed Raphaella, not giving an inch.

 “Because I wasn’t!”

 “Jonny,” Began the science officer in a deceptively gentle voice, “I could wake her up and make Lily ask you with her big blue accusing eyes.”

 The first mate looked furious he was about to say ‘you wouldn’t dare’ but Raph absolutely would to prove a point and he really didn’t want to risk having to admit the truth to Lily, he found it incredibly hard to lie to her properly after all.

 “Fine, Lily mentioned a birthday coming up some months from now and I am making something for that. Away from my room. Lost track of time. That’s it.” He ground out.

 “A secret something I take it?” Raphaella teased, amused to have caught him in such an obvious lie, Jonny on the whole was usually quite good at lying. He managed it effortlessly on stage after all. And he was damned good poker player.

 “You won’t find it.”

 “It wouldn’t have anything to do with the bits of clothing several of us have missed over the last few weeks would it?”

 Jonny’s ears began to turn red.

 “No.”

 ‘Aha.’ Thought Raphaella. But she was intrigued enough to let it stand, it was honestly rather refreshing to have Jonny do something vaguely productive outside of his musical and lyrical talents, repair work not-withstanding. There were only so many theoretical studies of chronic alcohol abuse and sleep deprivation she could observe before it got tiresome. This proved to be far more interesting.

 “Alright then, well I await to see the results with bated breath.”

 “Fuck off Raph.”

 “I could just wake her.”

 “I could just shoot you.”

 “You know you won’t.”

 The impotent rage on Jonny’s face was amusing to witness.

 “Fine, but I fill find a way to make you suffer.”

 “I look forward to it.”

 He matched her feral grin, feeling like he’d at least gained somewhat of an upper hand he moved on to the more important issue, Lily hadn’t been out of her bed unexpectedly for the last month, not since she found Brian during the poker game.  

 “What was it about this time?”

 “Doors being rattled and banged on by enemies in the dark.”

 “Oh, standard then. Good.”

 “Standard? I thought they were all like this one?” This was interesting, there were others? Raphaella got halfway through that thought and froze.

 Uh, Jonny realised he’d not actually shared a lot of detail of Lily’s nightmares, he passed on the basics to everyone at Tim’s insistence after she’d climbed in with him, demanding to know at least what they might have to deal with if the crew was now fair game to ask comfort from. The others had backed him up, the bastards, and he’d been forced to share a bit. He didn’t really want to, nightmares were private things after all and it wasn’t fair for him to share stuff that bothered someone else but as it had been pointed out, Lily was a child whom they all cared about, whom they were all guardians for and thus they all needed to know likely sources of upset and triggers to avoid when they spent time together, either during the day or if they happened to be the ones to comfort her at night.

 He’d relented, wanting to make sure she always had some solid options for comfort. He knew in excruciating detail how unpleasant it could be to suffer that sort of fear and misery on your own. Until you learned to ignore and bury it that is.

 So the others knew the basics at least, it was always the threat of attack, rattling and banging and bellowing in the dark unsurprisingly. He tended to keep the extra details to himself though, he knew how desperately Lily wanted to be seen as a ‘big girl’ by the crew. Even though there was nothing she could say or do that would actually make them think she was somehow less. Kid had endured enough and was still pretty functional, that was one hell of an achievement already. And she was stil mortal.

 Sometimes her nightmares was flavoured with gunfire (though not Tim’s apparently, that sounded different according to Lily, Jonny had no idea how the hell gunfire could sound ‘friendly’ but supposedly Tim’s did-children clearly had a higher nuance of sound perception-it made music lessons all the more interesting that was for sure), sometimes it was visions of what was left of her crew, her parents dying and on one particularly horrendous night images of her parents demanding to know why she hadn’t saved them. He had mentioned that one to Marius and then the rest of the crew since it had taken the singing of the entirety of ‘Alice’ to lull her back to sleep bookended with ‘Rose Red.’

 The one about her being left behind that she told to Brian was concerning, that one he had talked to the others about straight away, worried that taking her to a planet had, in fact, been a bad move. Given that that was as near as an admission to the idea he’d been wrong about wanting to take her planetside actually had them all discussing it properly with only minimal jeering. It ended up being pointed out that since it was such a new experience, even though it had been very positive, Lily’s subconscious was so traumatised it wasn’t surprising it had sparked off a different set of nightmares.

 It had assuaged the guilt a little at least. He was glad she clearly had really enjoyed the visit.

 “Jonny?”

 He realised he’d been staring into the middle distance and not actually talking. Shit.

 He refocused on her. A look crossed Raphaella’s face that he’d seen maybe once or twice before in all the years he’d known her. A hint of worry.

 “Does, does she have nightmares about what we, what I,” she corrected, “do here?”

 That question knocked him sideways, his initial instinctive bastard response died on his lips. This was Raphaella actually asking him, Jonny, for reassurance, reassurance that what she was doing wasn’t physcologically damaging their charge. He’d never seen the science officer look unsure before. Jonny realised he had a choice, he could lie and tell her that yes, the check-ups upset Lily and he’d had to calm her down from a lot of nightmares inspired by Raph’s actions or, or he could be honest.

 He thought about how genuinely devastated he’d be if one of the others told him that the reason Lily had come to them wasn’t because she couldn’t find him but that she was scared of him, that she’d had a nightmare about him because of something he’d done. He felt his guts twist. No, he couldn’t do that to Raphaella, he could murder her happily along with the rest of the crew whenever Lily wasn’t about and he’d been suitably bored or antagonised but lying about this?

 He couldn’t do it.

 If he stopped to think about it, there were quite a few things he couldn’t do now. All involved Lily, he couldn’t lie to the others about her, they were all in this together, more so than anything they’d been bound by previously. Jonny knew he was the primary source of Lily information but he actually respected that fact and that he should share as much as was reasonable to make sure it was as easy for the others to comfort and look after her as possible. This communal guardianship parenting thing they’d fallen into was working but it needed proper communication much as it felt like pulling teeth sometimes. It was needed so he did it. So they all did it.

 He fixed Raphaella with as sincere look as he could manage.

 “No Raph, she’s never had a nightmare about you or the check-ups, I think she’d settled into them, always asks me stuff about what you do in the lab so I reckon you’re fine.”

 Raphaella tried and failed not to look relieved.

 “Oh, well, thank you that’s, that’s preferable.”

 Yeah, it is. Her ship’s done enough of a number on her, she’s been here long enough now to know, I think, that we’re not trying to fuck her up.

 That seems like a reasonable conclusion. She’s not been put off by what she sees on a daily basis, between Tim’s shooting practice, TS’s stories and my science if that’s not affected her negatively then, for the moment we may remain in grace period.

 “What do we do when that ends?”

 “We’ll have to slowly introduce more regular elements of life on board to get her more used to things, little by little, it seems to be working so far.”

 Jonny considered, Raph did have a point, last week something had exploded and whilst Lily had gone stock-still and the colour drained out of her face she hadn’t cried or outwardly panicked, instead asked Jonny very quietly if they could find out what happened, because ‘it was probably Tim trying his new canon that he had been showing her through the building process but could they go and check please just to make sure?’

 So they had and it was. Jonny was feeling pretty fucking murderous but Tim had ignored him and got there first, explaining when they arrived exactly what he’d been upto, that he was sorry it went off without her there to see but the trigger had been too sensitive. He’d shown Lily the system and rig so that she understood the weapon and where the sound had come from, feeling much happier that she knew this was something to protect them and not a sign that they were under attack.

 Jonny had planned an elaborate murder for Tim and braced himself for an onslaught of nightmares that never came. Well they did but it was just the usual, banging on the doors in the dark one nothing to do with Tim or his explosions. He’d been waiting a full eight days and nothing. He was beginning to suspect Tim’s approach of including Lily in the construct of the weapon really had been a big help. Clever bastard.

 “Yeah, that’s, that’s probably as good a plan as we’ve got.”

 Raphaella considered, Jonny didn’t have to have been kind a moment ago. But he was. She’d almost entirely forgotten what it was like to be concerned about the long-term effects of her science and she hadn’t liked the feeling whatsoever. He could have made it worse and didn’t. That certainly counted for something and definitely towards her working theory about him and his own developmental track.

 “It’s probably better than what she would have in any other circumstance or with anyone else who might have rescued her. We’re all doing well with her, physically and mentally, we’re all in this together and it’s working, I can see it in my results and charts as clearly as I see it on her, against more odds than I think even Ivy would be comfortable calculating we’re improving her, as a crew, she’s healing and mending, and,” she considered her words, “you’re both the catalyst and accelerator in this compound of all of us, with all the variables.”

 Jonny began to open his mouth.

 “You’re good for her, my research indicates it.” Elaborated Raphaella stiffly. Being kind and gentle with Lily was far easier than she expected it to be, transversely being articulately kind to her crewmates was decidedly harder, she’d had very little practice and took refuge in her scientific terms, they always flowed more easily.

 Jonny’s eyes widened at the implication of what she was saying. That it was her saying it.

 Still, with him, sometimes actions spoke louder than words.

 Very carefully she handed over Lily to him, fuzzy rock thing and all, taking care to catch Jonny’s hand in the process and squeeze it for the briefest of moments.

 She was deeply surprised to receive a returning squeeze, equally as brief.

 She tried to read his face, a myriad of expressions flitted over him, shock, confusion, wariness, pride and elation before settling back to his default of ‘cocky bastard smirk’

 He held Lily close a moment then allowed a softer, sincere expression to linger in his eyes, “Thanks Raph, s’what the crew’s for, everyone’s got a job with this one.”

 He sobered and shifted, face returning to its usual look, his regular swagger sliding into his stance, “See you at breakfast.” He threw out his familiar feral grin without the need or will to add a snarky comment and sauntered out with a Lily tucked up against his chest who was at least half an inch taller and several pounds heavier than when she arrived.

 They were working as a crew and it was mending Lily.

 Not for the first time Raphaella considered the pair as they left her lab, a fond smile spreading across her face. The unlikeliness of this scenario had already cost Ivy one full notebook but the science officer could honestly conclude that she was deeply satisfied by this anomaly and looked forward to the further variables it generated.

 Otherwise, what even was the point?

 Smile still on her face she settled down to update her research log on the day’s nocturnal events. Her file was getting decidedly long.

 Raphaella found that only pleased her more.

[lokimostly]

Could we have a lil blurb of Jonathan and the nurse! I just love them so much 😭

A/N: I’m gonna assume you mean James! I get their names mixed up all the time smh. Also, this turned into a full fic. Sorry.

As always, my version James Conrad and Nurse!Reader are written with pre-existing context from the Rainy Days series. 

Lean On Me

James Conrad x Reader

Word Count: 1,958

Warnings: injury

James’s ears pricked up and he paused. The shirt in his hands remained half-folded as his eyebrows pulled together in a frown. Either his senses were playing tricks on him, or a string of curses had just left your mouth in the direction of the hotel bathroom.

A small crash and another curse. No, he’d definitely heard right. 

He sighed, dropping his shirt on the bedspread. It was dark outside the open window. traveling from Paris to Milan, a ten hour trip by train, had thoroughly exhausted you both. The city lights twinkled through the screened glass as he crossed the floor of the suite. He rapped his knuckles against the bathroom door– it was slightly adjacent, but he erred on the side of caution anyway, leaning against the doorframe. “You alright?”

“I’m fine,” came your voice, a bit too harshly, from the other side. Conrad’s eyes narrowed and he paused. He knew you well enough by now to understand that you meant the exact opposite of your words. You weren’t fine. Whether or not you would resist help, however… well, he would only know once he pushed open the door.

He turned over his options silently for a moment longer before taking hold of the doorknob and opening it, peering inside the hotel bathroom. You were leaning awkwardly against the wall, your face contorted in poorly-masked pain as you struggled to support your own weight on your one good leg. Your old wound was clearly acting up again.

Conrad was at your side in an instant, lifting you up into his arms like you weighed nothing and holding you firmly against his chest. An audible wince escaped you, but you pushed away from him anyway, making futile attempts to get him to let you down. “I said I’m fine, James–”

“Clearly,” he responded flatly, letting you down on the bed, shoving aside his carry-on bag to make space for you. He eased you down with exceeding carefulness, rising to his feet to retrieve pain medicine from your carry-on.

James felt a pillow hit his back and turned around, raising his eyebrows and drawing his mouth into a thin line of annoyance. “What was that for?”

“I’m not an invalid.”

“I never said you were.”

You scowled back at him, pushing yourself up and off the mattress. “I can get it myself,” you insisted stubbornly. Your injury, however, decided otherwise. As soon as your left foot hit the floor, your leg crumpled beneath your weight. You stumbled forward, hitting Conrad’s chest as he caught you against him, again. Damn the man’s impeccable sense of timing.

Your name left his lips gently, his tone soothing and calm. Conrad waited for the resistance in your arms to release, and you fell limp against him. He set his cheek against your head with a heavy sigh.

“Darling, it’s not your fault,” he murmured, eyebrows creased together. He felt your fingers dig into the fabric of his shirt, but you said nothing. Your chest shook with every exhale. The tension still held in the muscles of your arms as you clung to him told him that you were still in a great deal of pain, and it cracked his heart in half.

When you finally spoke, your voice shaky and trembling, his halved heart did nothing short of crumble.

“I just thought I’d be better by now,” you admitted quietly against his shoulder. 

Conrad didn’t reply. For a moment you thought he hadn’t heard you at all, until you felt him press a kiss to the side of your head, lifting you up and setting you on the edge of the bed once more. He eased your left leg down as it bent, trying not to wince at your reactionary outcry. 

None of the doctors had mentioned the side effects that came after a break like the one you had suffered during the LandSat excursion almost a year ago. The bending fracture in your left femur healed easily enough, but the tissue around it didn’t take as well to such a crippling injury. It had resulted in frequent insomnia, constant ache and – like what you were experiencing right now – bursts of crippling chronic pain. 

Conrad was patient in playing your recovery by ear, but you were less inclined to go easy on yourself. It was beyond maddening that you were unable to walk on a whim. Even though your episodes were becoming less frequent, it was still debilitating – and often frustrating to the point of tears.

You waited on the edge of the bed, bunching the fabric of the duvet cover in your hands while he retrieved pain medicine and a glass of water, handing both to you. You downed them silently and let him take the empty cup. James returned a moment later, kneeling in front of you and setting his large hand on your knee. 

You relented, giving him a barely-perceptible nod and letting out a long, slow breath. Conrad took it as permission to kneel between your legs and take your left leg up beneath your knee, running through the motions of extending it and forcing the muscles to unbind. He moved his hands slowly, with practiced care, murmuring words of comfort when your muscles contracted in pain. You held onto his shoulder, gripping tightly and gritting your teeth when a wave of pain would travel up your spine. This was something the two of you had done many times before, but that didn’t make it any easier. 

Uncounted minutes passed before the pain subsided. Some combination of the medicine and the patient work of his hands finally unbound the scarred tissue around your upper thigh, and you relaxed, slumping against him.

“I can’t imagine why you put up with this,” you confessed, with lingering frustration in your voice – which was somewhat muffled, given that you were talking against his shoulder.

Still, Conrad heard you, and pressed a kiss to the side of your temple. “I love you,” he replied, pulling away to look at your face. “Is that not reason enough?”

You gave him a petulant pout and dropped your eyes, playing with the v-cut neckline that revealed just enough of his muscular chest. “I guess,” you relented with childlike stubbornness. You traced your finger over his skin, running your nail lightly down the center of his chest. “I love you too.”

Conrad smiled and exhaled softly. “Really?”

You scoffed and laughed, leaning forward to kiss him, but it was woefully short, and he pulled you back for another. “You know that,” you reminded him when he finally pulled away, leaving behind the lingering scent of vanilla and sandalwood. It was a familiar, comforting smell, though admittedly cleaner than when you first met him: back then, he always smelled of firewood, too. 

“You chucked a pillow at me. I wasn’t so sure anymore,” James replied, with a look of mock innocence that was almost convincing, if not for the devilish twinkle in his blue-green eyes. He ducked his head down for another kiss and you laughed, pushing against his chest, but nowhere near hard enough to dissuade him from landing one right on your cheek. You rolled your eyes. “You’re a tease.”

“Don’t tempt me,” he countered darkly, planting a kiss in the crook of your neck, with the audacity to graze his teeth on your skin in the way he knew would make you shiver. You gasped and laughed, covering his hand with your mouth to prevent him from doing anything further.

He made a muffled sound and peeled your hand away, pressing a kiss to the inside of your wrist before letting go. His eyes met yours and his expression sobered. “How does it feel?”

You sighed, pressing your lips together and swallowing your pride. You lifted your leg cautiously off of the bedspread, waiting for a contraction of pain with bated breath.

Nothing came.

You allowed yourself to exhale and nodded. “I think I could stand,” you venture cautiously.

“Are you sure?” He asked, taking your hands. “We don’t have to rush.���

You shook your head, setting your feet on the floor. “No, I’m sure.” That wasn’t really the truth; you had little confidence in your own abilities. You did, however, have complete trust in the fact that Conrad would be there to catch you if you fell.

Conrad stood to his feet and held your hands expectantly. You took one more breath and put weight on your feet at the same time as he pulled you up with your hands, bringing you to stand in one smooth motion.

Your leg wobbled and you tightened your grip on his hands, your eyes fixed to the floor. He moved slightly, and you panicked, digging your nails into his skin for fear of falling. “Don’t –”

“I’m not,” he reassured you, adjusting his grip and sliding his hand up one of your arms, wrapping his other snugly around your waist. He held you against the wall of his chest, letting you reach up with your free hand and wrap it over his shoulder. You laughed suddenly when you realized the position you were in was typical of a slow dance, except that you were standing mostly-immobilized in the middle of a quiet hotel suite, and he was acting only as an incredibly handsome crutch.

Conrad hummed in his chest, reverberating against your ear. “What?”

You shook your head, smirking. It seemed silly. “We’re dancing,” you explained, and laughed again through your nose. “You know– without going out for drinks, the music, or actually seeing Italy.”

Conrad chuckled, stepping away from the bed with you held securely in his arms. “This is good enough for me,” he reassured you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head and beginning to sway, holding you firmly in his muscular arms.

You clung to his shoulder, your fingers gripping so tight that your knuckles paled. You swallowed a rise in your pride and exhaled sharply, confessing your weakness. “I can’t be much of a dance partner, though. Just rocking back and forth.”

Conrad’s grip around your waist tightened and he dipped his head down, setting it against yours. “Lean on me,” he suggested lowly, his mouth hovering over your ear.

You nodded. You released any remaining tension or inhibition, allowing him fully to support you. The two of you began to sway in silence- Conrad would take a step forward and you would follow his lead, trusting his feet instead of your own. Soon you were circling in a gentle waltz, swaying to the sounds of the city outside instead of a vinyl record. His arm caught your weight whenever your leg shook with uncertainty: only once did it actually buckle, and he caught you without pause, continuing to glide across the floor. 

He lifted you up and you gasped a laugh, holding onto both his shoulders before he set you down just as fluidly and continued on.

“I didn’t know you were so good at this,” you admitted coyly, inhaling quickly when he spun you and pulled you against him with your back to his chest.

You could hear his smile in his words. “I’m a man of many talents,” he admonished, trying to sound humble. It made you smirk, and when he pulled you back to face him again you reached up to plant a kiss on his lips. Your dancing slowed to a sway as his attention turned more to your lips, moving against them without hurry, tasting sweet with every repeated kiss. 

You caught his lower lip gently between your teeth, and he chuckled. His breath fanned pleasantly against your skin, raising goosebumps. “I think our first night in Italy is going to be a memorable one.” 

You nodded, reaching up and linking your arms lazily behind his neck, deliberately toying with the hem of his shirt. Just because you weren’t going out tonight didn’t mean you would be denied your fair share of fun. “Yeah… I think so, too.” 

~ ~ ~

A/N: Thanks for reading!