#its okay i must have faith.....that people have forgotten when it took place and also will forget this post in the future

[spaciebabie]

Y'know what we haven't done for a hot minute. Fluster Space Event. I wonder if we could make it a holiday event now. Like it could be yearly wouldn't that be fun :)

[diaphragmjellyfish]

You Just Wait

gif is from @twilightofficial​

A/N: The hardest part of writing a fic is honestly choosing the love interest XD I have so many fictional boyfriends it’s hard to choose just one. I have noticed a significant lack of Jared Cameron content and he’s super adorable so here it is! Also, I left the concept a little bit more vague so more people can relate to it. It doesn’t specifically say vaginismus, it’s more of a general “sex doesn’t normally go well for me” type thing. 

Bottomless, covered in chocolate sauce, walking through the woods, phone dead, in the middle of August on a weekday. How did you end up here? Jared Cameron. Your boyfriend. He had roped you in to an elaborate prank on Paul that hadn’t exactly gone as planned. Needless to say, you were desperate for a shower and a nap. A hot meal wouldn’t hurt. And you were beyond irritated, not even looking Jared’s way as he walked next to you in a similar state. 

“Babe, if you let me carry you, we’ll get home way faster,” he whined.

You didn’t respond, only walking with more frustration around the roots and fallen trees. It was growing dark, just about twilight, and you knew you wouldn’t be reaching either of your houses at this rate. You were miles into the forest. But your pride kept you from accepting Jared’s wolfy-back ride, because he tended to make lots of jokes about being between your legs and you riding him and blah blah blah, and you honestly might punch him right now if he did that. 

So you just kept ignoring him, arms folded tightly against your chest because, yes, it was August, but this was also the Washington coast. It got pretty chilly no matter what time of year it was. 

“I can see you shivering from here,” he pleaded, almost sounding in pain at the thought of you being uncomfortable. “It’s only gonna get colder. Let me help you.”

You ignored him. 

“C’mooonnnnnn,” he cried. His preferred way of cracking your silence was usually by annoying you out of it, and it was working. “C’mon, c’mon, c’mon c’mon c’mon c’mon c’m-”

“Jared, I swear to God!” 

“Aha! She speaks!” he laughed. 

“”Only to tell you to be quiet, or I’ll-”

“Or you’ll what?” he cut you off. “I’m way stronger than you!” He was teasing you into talking to him. Even if it was in the form of arguing. Damn, he always got you to crack. You stopped walking, turning to face him, arms still held tightly around yourself. You couldn’t resist a good bicker, and Jared knew that. He would get the sass to come out, and then once you got tired, he’d apologize and you’d be made up within half an hour. That’s what always happened. And you couldn’t exactly stay mad at those big brown puppy eyes for long. 

“Physically, maybe,” you chided, “but I’m definitely way smarter than you.”

He stepped closer to you, a playful smirk on his face. “What, are you gonna read me to death or something?”

“I’m gonna strategize a huge plan, manipulate you, and leave you here in the forest by yourself. That’s what I’m gonna do,” you sassed. He never took arguments to heart, which is one thing you loved about him. He knew how grumpy you could get and would let you vent, and then make you forget all about the problem. 

“Oh, okay, yeah sure,” he giggled, hands going up in defense. “I’m just saying that in this situation, there is no way you come out on top. You run, I catch you. You hide, I sniff you out,” he teased. This made you crack an almost imperceptible smile, but one he noticed nonetheless. “And if you did somehow manage to get away from me, you’d freeze to death in an hour flat.” The cold breeze that caused you to shiver more violently could not have had worse timing. Obviously, Jared noticed, and his face dropped. He approached you slowly, silently asking if you were still mad enough to not let him touch you. When you didn’t step back or stop him, he wrapped both his arms around you and brought you into a huge bear hug. You sighed at his warmth, wrapping your arms tightly around his torso. He’d given you his hoodie hours ago, and was left in only a pair of shorts, though he didn’t seem to notice. Damn him and his werewolf heat. 

You still shivered in his arms, but his feverish temperature was a relief to your aching bones. 

“See? Could’ve been warm hours ago,” he teased once again, noting your clinginess. 

“Shut up. I’m still mad,” you mumbled into his neck. He laughed softly to himself, rubbing his hands up and down your body to create more heat. After a few minutes, you were starting to struggle to keep your eyes open. It had to be close to 2 in the morning, and you’d been walking for what felt like hours. Jared could have easily run home and let you brood alone, but he stuck with you no matter how long you went without speaking to him. 

“Sleepy?” he murmured into your hair. You just nodded softly, and didn’t protest as he bent down, one hand going behind your knees and the other staying around your back. He picked you up with ease and started walking through the woods once more with an “Okay Princess, I got you.” His stride never faltered, easily avoiding tripping over roots or slipping on rain-soaked moss. He must have been walking for about 30 minutes, never so much as breathing hard or shifting you in his grip. You didn’t sleep, but welcomed the rest he allowed you. Your eyes were closed, head resting on his shoulder when you felt him stop. You looked up, and in the distance, maybe 50 yards away, you saw a small building. 

“Hunter’s cabin, I’m guessing. No one’s home,” Jared stated, anticipating your questions. 

“Think there’ll be blankets?” you wondered, tired, yet still playful. 

“What, am I not enough for you?” he feigned mock hurt as you giggled at his unshakeable good attitude. Without another word, he began walking towards the small cabin, which was about the size of an average bedroom. When you reached the door, he set you down gently, holding his hands close to your waist while you found your footing, and then wrapping an arm over your shoulders to keep you warm. 

“I’m assuming it’s locked,” you sighed, disappointed. 

“Babe, no door is locked when you have super strength. Honestly, I thought you’d have more faith in me by now,” he smiled brightly. 

“You can’t just go around kicking random people’s doors in!” you scolded. 

“Okay, first of all, I can tell by the smell that no one’s been here in years. Second of all, how would anyone know it was us that broke in and not, like, a deer? And third of all, I’d say this counts as an emergency,” he sassed right back at you. You looked at him in annoyance, too tired and cold to actually care. 

After a long sigh, you muttered “fine.” 

He immediately turned to the door, not letting you so much as inhale before he slammed his foot into the space next to the knob, the door all but flying off its hinges. The whole scene caused deafening noise that interrupted the silence of the trees. 

“Jesus!” you called out in surprise, a hand shooting up to your pounding heart. You look around, though knowing no one was around for miles. Jared only turned to look at you, a cheeky smile adorning his face, and said,

“See? Told ya.” 

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help the loving and admiring energy that overcame you. Jared really was one in a million, and you were lucky to be by his side. He could be in the worst situation in the world and still find something to laugh about. 

He motioned for you to go in first, ever the gentleman. Walking through the door, the first thing you noticed was the dust. The entire inside of the cabin was covered in a thick layer of it. There was a small, rickety couch with cushions so worn they had holes in them throughout. And the fabric… my God. It looked like something from the 60’s, an obnoxious floral that had faded over time, and now just looked flat out stained. There was a flimsy throw blanket over the back of the couch, a cooler in the corner of the room that was covered in dirt, and on the opposite wall, a fireplace! No wood, no matches, but it was there. The floor was scattered with bullet shells, receipts, and decayed leaves. It was obvious no one had been in here for at least 3 or 4 years. 

“Okay, I can work with this,” Jared said. You really were jealous of his optimism. But, as disgusting as this place was, it beat the frigid breeze of outside, and had a place where you could rest your heads. You walked over to the couch, grabbing the blanket and beating the dust off of it. It was really only meant for one person, but you guys were okay with getting close. It would do. 

Jared walked over to the opposite corner where the cooler sat by the fireplace and opened the lid, peeking inside. 

“Just water,” he said, sounding almost disappointed. 

“Were you really gonna eat whatever was in there?” you spoke incredulously. 

“Babe, I’m starving. You have no idea how close I am to licking that chocolate sauce off of you,” he voiced. You had almost forgotten about the sticky sauce that covered both of your clothes. That prank really was a disaster. You looked down, face heating at the thought of Jared’s mouth on you like that, and turned to the fireplace where he stood. He was looking on the mantle, oblivious to the effect his comment had on you, and exclaimed “Aha!” before reaching up to grab something. “A lighter. We’re saved! Well, you are,” he laughed looking over at your shivering form once more. “Stay here and get comfy. I’m gonna go get some wood.” 

You tried your best, sitting on the edge of the couch and immediately feeling a spring poking you in the butt. The couch really was tiny. You guys were gonna have to bundle up close to fit. The thought excited you. Sure, you and Jared had always been comfortable touching and holding each other, but there were certain areas of your relationship you had yet to explore. More… intimate areas. It was your fault mostly. To make a long story short, you’ve just never enjoyed sex. You found yourself not able to get aroused, which made things painful. Sure, you wanted to. You’d thought about it a ton. But in the moment, your head was so full of thoughts of ‘What if he thinks I’m ugly? What if I smell? Am I doing this right? Is he having a good time? Am I taking too long?’ that you just stopped trying. And obviously you wanted to have sex with Jared, but you were worried he’d be disappointed. By the time he got back, just a few minutes later, you had brought your knees up to your chest, holding your legs close in an effort to preserve warmth. 

“Doing okay Sweetheart?” he asked gently. You gave a small smile and nodded in response. He plopped the logs in his arms down into the fireplace, scavenging the floor for receipts, dried leaves, anything that would catch fire. He dumped these into the fireplace and lit them, the fire catching within seconds. He walked over to the other side of the room where the couch was before bending down, grabbing the bottom lip of it, and pulling it (and you) across the floor, one-handed, and closer to the fire. “Better?” You had always been in awe of his strength. Let’s be honest, it was just plain sexy. Again, you just nodded your head, staring at him in adoration. 

He sat beside you on the couch, throwing an arm over your shoulders again, and leaning back, taking you with him. You cuddled into his side, watching the fire. 

“Ya know, if you take away the shitty couch and sticky clothes and add a few more blankets, this would actually be pretty nice,” he finally spoke. 

You laughed softly, replying, “It would. The couch isn’t even awful, but these clothes are really ruining the mood for me.” 

“Well why don’t you get out of ‘em, hot stuff?” he joked. You knew he wasn’t serious because you guys haven’t gotten that far yet, but something, maybe the exhaustion or the way he kept challenging you today, made you want to actually do it. Before you could lose your nerve, you reached down, pulling off the hoodie and shirt in one go and tossing them onto the floor. You relaxed back into his arms in just a bra, acting like nothing had happened. He was frozen beside you. Maybe it was mean, but you wanted to tease him a little. He’d put you through a lot today, so you wanted to mess with him a tiny bit. So, coolly, you brought a hand onto his thigh and began running it up and down, going higher and higher with each pass. He was still frozen, so you gave a light squeeze, and heard him inhale sharply, though he tried to hide it. 

“I thought you were tired,” he commented.

“Guess I’m not anymore,” you responded, turning to face him boldly. He immediately leaned in to kiss you, softly as always. You reciprocated, bringing your other hand up to cup his face. His arm that was around your shoulders slipped down around your waist, pulling you in further. Jared had always been gentle when kissing you, so you knew you’d have to make the first move to deepen it. Which is exactly what you did. Running your hand up his head and grabbing his hair, you pulled him towards you even more and traced your tongue across his bottom lip. He responded by matching your energy, tongue slipping out to caress yours before bringing your bottom lip between his teeth and nibbling softly. You guys had never kissed like this before. You felt a bead of warmth pool in your abdomen, something you’d never felt with a guy before. Sure, you’d been turned on while watching certain videos or reading certain fanfiction by yourself, but you’d never actually experienced it with someone before. It was exciting. Maybe it was the knowledge that you could stop things at any time and he wouldn’t be upset, or maybe it was how in love with you he really was, but you didn’t feel nervous or worried. You felt comfortable. 

Taking things a step further, you swung your leg over both of his, moving to straddle his lap. 

He pulled away slightly at this, making you ask, “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing’s wrong,” he responded, “I just don’t wanna make you do anything you don’t wanna do.”

You smiled, “I’m not doing anything I don’t wanna do. Are you?” 

“Are you seriously asking me that question right now?” He laughed, making you giggle along. 

You leaned back in for another kiss, when he stopped you again. “What exactly… are we doing, though?” You knew what he was silently asking. Are we about to go all the way? And you didn’t know yet. This had started out as playful teasing, but now you were beginning to think that maybe you did want to try something. With Jared. He was it for you, the one you wanted to spend forever with. If you couldn’t trust him, you couldn’t trust anyone. And he’d taken such good care of you these last few hours, keeping you warm, making sure you were storming off in the right direction, that you knew he’d appreciate you in a more intimate sense. 

“I- I kind of would like to try… some stuff,” you answered. 

He looked at you, eyes wide, before answering, “What kind of stuff? I mean, I will do literally anything you ask me to do and you know that, but I didn’t really prepare for this. Like, I don’t… have what we need.” Oh, a condom. What a responsible boy. 

“I’m on the pill,” you replied a little too quickly before looking down and fiddling with your hands. “If you want to.” 

“Y/N, I would be absolutely fucking honored,” he breathed, before cupping your face and pulling you into the most heated kiss yet. Your tongues danced, hands wandering. Yours, across his muscled chest and abdomen, and his, down your waist and around to cup your pantsless ass, squeezing firmly. It felt nice. He handled you in a way that was gentle and painless, but still dominant and firm. And it made the heat in your belly grow. You continued kissing for several minutes, your hands moving up his neck and eventually landing in his hair once more, and his remaining on your ass and waist. You softly sucked at his lower lip, nibbling slightly, and it made him let out a low growl and pull your hips forward onto his, where you felt something hard push against you. You knew what it was, and it didn’t scare you like it normally would. You did, however, feel your damp underwear. Shit, that’s never happened before. You were normally bone dry at this point. You let out a soft sigh, grinding your hips onto him once more. 

He softened his kisses slightly, bringing a hand around to your stomach and running his knuckles lightly across your lower abdomen. 

“Can I?” He questioned delicately. 

“Yes,” you replied almost immediately. He brought his hand under the waistband of your underwear, when you said, “Wait,” and he stopped. “Just one thing. I kind of… have never been able to do this without it hurting a lot, so maybe you could just try to be gentle?” 

“Oh, baby, you’ve been in pain before? I’m so sorry,” he whispered genuinely. 

“It’s okay, I just…” It was now or never. He should know. “Normally I’m super nervous about everything, so I can’t really… get into it, and when girls aren’t into it it’s kind of… dry? And that makes it kind of hurt really bad.” You faded out at the end, feeling embarrassed. He brought his hand out of your underwear and up to your chin, tilting your face up to look him in the eye, looking concerned. “But I’m into this, I mean, right now. I’m excited. I just thought I should warn you,” you awkwardly laughed at the end. 

“You promise? Because you know that if you want to stop we will, and I would never be upset or pressure or anything like that,” he spoke sweetly, making your heart flutter. And you did know that, which is why you felt comfortable. Every other time, you felt that if you went past a certain point, you couldn’t say stop. Couldn’t call it off without making whatever guy you were with super mad and then… who knows what would happen. But when Jared spoke those words, you believed him. 

“I promise. And I know you’ll stop. But I don’t want you to.” 

With this, he scanned your face one more time for any signs of hesitation, and when he found none, brought you down into another heated kiss. You felt his hand trail from your chin down to your breasts, skimming over your bra, down your stomach and once again to the waistband of your underwear. Only this time he didn’t go under. He stayed on top of the fabric and brought his hand down between your legs, index finger brushing lightly against your core. You barely felt it, and began to worry that you’d once again feel numb. Oftentimes, when guys would touch you or go down on you, you felt nothing. It was like you were broken or something. And you started to become concerned that tonight would be no different. 

But he brought his finger down again, repeating the same movement, only with significantly more pressure this time, and it had you release an involuntary sigh. And instead of removing his finger like he had the first time, he kept it over your clit, drawing firm circles. 

Your mouth dropped open in a silent moan, Jared staring intently at your face. 

“Oh, wow,” you finally breathed. 

“Good?” he asked cockily, wearing a large smirk. He repeated the movement again, drawing a line from your core to your clit, stopping to rub circles. 

“Mmm hmm,” you sighed. He leaned in once more to meet you with the sloppiest, dirtiest kiss you two had shared yet, and it only made you grind your center into his hand. He repeated the action several times over, and you were a writhing mess in minutes. 

He brought a finger under your waistband once more, stretching the elastic out before letting it snap lightly against your skin. “Let’s take these off, hmm?” You’d never stood up so fast in your life, practically ripping the panties off of you, taking your bra off with it. Jared stood up to remove his shorts, but stopped to stare. 

“What?” you questioned shyly, moving to cover up.

“You’re literally the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my entire life.” 

The boy quite literally had heart eyes for you. 

“Oh,” you responded meekly, cheeks heating up. When you kept looking back at him, he seemed to snap back into the moment and hurriedly ripped off his shorts and underwear, sitting back on the couch and opening his arms for you. You moved to straddle his hips the same way as before, and he brought his arms around to embrace you as you shared another heated kiss. One of his hands moved up to cup your breast, thumb rolling over your nipple as if you were made of glass. Jared pulled his mouth off of yours and trailed his lips down the side of your face, to your jaw, and down onto your neck, suckling lightly and leaving wet kisses. You tilted your head to the side to give him better access, and brought one of your hands down between you two to grasp him. He shuddered, only grabbing your hips and bringing you impossibly closer. His other hand trailed down to your center once more, going straight to your core and gathering the slight wetness there before bringing his finger up to your clit and circling. With your underwear out of the way, you felt almost lightheaded at his touch. You never knew how girls could cum during sex before, because you never seemed to feel much at all unless it was pain, but with how aroused you were right now and Jared’s movements, you thought for the first time that you may actually be able to finish. People do say that 90% of sex is mental, and you guessed this is what they meant. The more into it you are, the more physical sensation you actually feel. Groundbreaking. 

“Can I finger you?” he murmured huskily into your neck. 

You tensed slightly at this, but trusted him. If you said stop, he would. “Ok, just go slow.”

“Of course,” he responded before placing a sweet kiss on your shoulder and bringing his index finger back to your core, swirling around the entrance a few times. You took a few deep breaths to relax your muscles, and he looked at you, wordlessly asking, Ready? You nodded, and he slipped his finger in, just to the first knuckle, and held it still while he brought his thumb to your clit and continued rubbing. When he noticed you visibly relax, he slipped his finger in further to the second knuckle, stopping for a few seconds, and then all the way. He kept it here again, giving you time to adjust or tell him to stop, all the while keeping you stimulated with his thumb. It felt really good. Well, you didn’t exactly feel his finger at all, which was better than pain, and his thumb was making you crazy. Your breathing was labored at this point, eyebrows furrowed as you held onto his shoulders, nails digging in and sure to leave scratches. He pressed the finger inside of you onto your front wall suddenly, massaging the ridges firmly, and you let out a moan. Your first real moan ever. And damn did it get Jared excited. He continued this motion again and again, building in intensity and pressure slowly. When he felt how wet you had become, he pulled his finger back out to the first knuckle, and added his middle finger next to it, sliding them both back in slowly so as not to hurt you. Your eyes widened at the stretch, but it didn’t hurt. It felt amazing. 

“Oh, fuck,” you whispered to yourself, before moaning once more as his fingers began the ‘come-hither’ motion once more. 

“Am I hurting you?” he asked, concerned at your cursing. 

“No, feels so good,” you moaned, and he smiled at this, increasing the pressure even more. Your eyes screwed shut, hips stuttering over his hand, letting him finger fuck you for several more minutes as you began to feel a tightening in your stomach. He brought his thumb off of your clit finally, adjusting his hand for a better angle and bringing his other hand off of your waist and up to his mouth, licking his thumb and bringing that down to your clit, resuming the tight circles. You could hear how wet you were, feeling too good to be embarrassed. The heat in your stomach was building, spreading. You felt your legs begin to shake, muscles begin to tighten around his fingers, and your eyes screwed shut as you opened your mouth in a silent scream and came. The waves of pleasure washed over you for a long time, Jared slowing his movements down so as not to overstimulate you. When you finally opened your eyes again, you were panting, legs feeling like Jello. Jared was staring at you with a look of absolute awe on his face, mouth agape and dick rock hard, red, and leaking precum. He was more turned on than he had ever been from actual sex before, and it was only from watching you. 

“Fuck, baby that was so hot,” he all but moaned. 

You reached down to grasp him, panting a “your turn.” 

He grabbed both your wrists, stopping you. “Nuh uh, this is about you. Lie the fuck down.”

You gasped, his dominant tone turning you on despite your recent climax. You both knew that if you were even slightly uncomfortable, things would stop immediately. But it was fun for both of you to let him be a little aggressive. You did as told, lying long ways across the couch cushions, Jared moving to kneel between your legs, moving your knees softly apart so he could look at all of you. You didn’t feel insecure being exposed like this. You felt excited. 

“Are you absolutely sure you wanna do this?” he questioned. 

“I have never been more sure, Jared baby, I want to,” you pleaded. This was enough for him, so he brought his dick down to line up with your entrance, rubbing the tip up and down a few times to collect your wetness. He was worried that there wouldn’t be enough lubricant, so he brought a hand up to his mouth and spit, rubbing the saliva on his cock. 

“You just wait ‘til we get some real lube and a real fucking bed, Princess. You won’t be able to walk for days.” You shuddered at the thought of this, and of the sensation of his dick rubbing around your clit and back down to your entrance. He pushed in slightly, letting the tip in before pausing and checking your face for any signs of pain. When he found none, he pushed in slightly more, and more. He was being extremely slow, and you appreciated it. Guys normally would just shove themselves inside, not giving you any time to adjust before pounding away. But Jared was careful, despite how turned on you knew he was. He still had your best interest in mind. Within a couple of minutes, he was fully seated inside of you, staying still until you told him to move. He brought his face down to give you a sweet kiss, waiting for you to give him the signal. 

After a few seconds, you didn’t feel any sort of stinging or pain, so you nodded, saying “Just start slow.” 

“Of course,” he replied genuinely. He pulled his hips back just a few inches, before slowly grinding them back into yours. You closed your eyes, focusing on keeping your muscles loose and relaxed as he continues this movement a few more times. The next time he pushed in, he ground his hips further into yours, hitting the deepest parts of you. This had you release a gasp, eyes opening to meet his. “Okay?” he questioned. 

“Yes.” 

He did this several more times, letting you get used to the feeling of him being so deep inside of you, before your hips began to grind back into his. It felt really good. When he noticed this, he began pulling his hips back more, pushing back in slightly faster, and this had you moaning. You threw your head back, back arched, just enjoying the sensations. Your hands were grasping at his shoulders, definitely leaving scratch marks. 

“Oh my God,” you whispered. 

“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he responded, planting sloppy kisses to your neck and collar bone. “Baby, I’m not gonna last much longer.” 

You smiled at this, glad he was enjoying it as much as you were. “Go ahead, cum for me,” you spoke, and your words had him right on the edge. He pulled out of you quickly, hand fisting his cock as he stared at your sweaty, writhing body below him. He came hard, spilling onto your stomach as he growled out, the sound making your toes curl, almost animalistic. You both remained in this position as you came down, breaths labored and eyes barely open. He stood up fully off of the couch and reached for the flimsy blanket on the floor, using it to wipe off your stomach. He threw it into the corner of the room and lay down next to you on the couch, gathering you up into his arms to cuddle. 

“Did you have a good time?” he asked almost nervously after a few minutes. 

“Nah, kinda sucked,” you teased, and he let out a playful laugh, lightly shoving you away before pulling you back and planting a kiss on your temple. 

A pause. “For real though,” he prodded, beginning to panic slightly. 

You burst out laughing. “Of course I had a good time, Jared. Best i’ve ever had, if I’m being honest.” 

“Ok good,” he sighed, relieved but trying not to show that you actually had him nervous for a second. 

Another pause. “Did… did you have a good time?” you questioned back at him. 

He seemed almost offended at the question, bringing a hand up to cup your face so that your eyes met his. “Y/N, this was the best night of my entire life. That was perfect. You are perfect. And I’m glad you trusted me enough to do that with you.” 

You felt your eyes sting slightly, emotions running wild. You considered yourself the luckiest girl in the world to be with Jared Cameron. Not only was he totally gorgeous, but kind, hilarious, and great in bed. 

In an effort to switch the tone back to a more playful one, you replied, “Yeah, well I was promised some more fun involving real lube and a real bed so…” 

He tugged you further into him, wrapping his arms around you in a way that made you think he might never let go. He laughed, and said “Oh, you just wait.” 

[romanticchemacademic]

Dear future health professionals and stem professors,

We need a revolution of thought. Only through a renaissance of pure and genuine passion towards medicine and other sciences will we have competent doctors, nurses, other healthcare workers, and teachers. We live in a world where people pursue noble professions for the sake of social and economic advancement. However, we lack individuals who love the process of learning and their career.

I recollect quite a marvelous excerpt written by one of the world’s greatest scientific minds, Albert Einstein. In his book, The World As I see It he writes:

ACADEMIC CHAIRS ARE MANY, but wise and noble teachers are few; lecture rooms are numerous and large, but the number of young people who genuinely thirst for truth and justice is small. Nature scatters her common wares with a lavish hand, but the choice sort she produces but seldom.

We all know that, so why complain? Was it not ever thus and will it not ever thus remain? Certainly, and one must take what nature gives as one finds it. But there is also such a thing as a spirit of the times, an attitude of mind characteristic of a particular generation, which is passed on from individual to individual and gives a society its particular tone. Each of us has to do his little bit towards transforming this spirit of the times.

Compare the spirit which animated the youth in our universities a hundred years ago with that prevailing today. They had faith in the amelioration of human society, respect for every honest opinion, the tolerance for which our classics had lived and fought. 

  I believe that one of the faults lies within education institutions. Educators rely on testing, textbooks, and detached memorized lectures. Lectures lack passion and another essential factor: the real practice. The theory is important but the practice is necessary to understand the theory. But without passion, nobody will learn to love the material being taught. Ibn Sina is known for being one of the greatest physicians and teachers of Islamic medicine. I am not completely sure whether what I am about to mention is true. But I read that when he lectured theory to the medical students at the Madrassa (University) he would show them how it worked. Besides medical history and theory. He also taught physics, astronomy, philosophy, and mathematics. However, he is also famed for being an excellent teacher duly because he would take his students to test out the theories and practice what they have been taught. If they were learning medical theory, they were taken to the hospital to observe patients and their cases. If they were learning astronomy, they would all gather in the evening to look up at the heavens to look at the constellations. Lastly, his passion for his vocation was the final touch. Educators without the drive cannot teach. Learning is about understanding oneself, others, and the world. Learning evolves our minds and our spirits by making us get in harmony with the universe. I believe this ties in with Aristotle’s famous saying, “The unexamined life is not worth living”. Though my interpretation may be a wee bit off, I translate it as thus; we can gather all textbook knowledge as possible but if we do not put into practice the knowledge learned, what is the point? I yearn and I pine to experience all that I have learned. I want to see why the theory makes sense in reality. I want to conduct experiments. So much potential is being wasted. Biology is the study of life. However, when I took the course, it was so cold to a point that it did not even feel like I was studying the human body but something alien instead. There is also such a rush to memorize material within a couple of weeks because of exams that the material ceases to be interesting and becomes more of an arduous chore instead. Our sense of time-shifted completely after the industrial revolution. Perhaps this is a reason why we feel the need to rush through everything and not take our time to study profoundly. 

We need another Scientific Revolution, curious minds thirsting for the acquisition of knowledge and unanswered questions. However, I believe that the leading force behind this is a necessity. I would like to mention an example to illustrate what I mean from a novel I read a while ago called, The Physician by Noah Gordon. A boy from Medieval Europe lost his mother from an unknown disease leaving him orphaned. He then grew up with the necessity to learn what the disease was and how to prevent other similar deaths, so that others do not suffer what he has suffered. He then worked with Barbers (people who performed medical procedures in Medieval Europe). But the medical knowledge these professionals had was not enough to answer his question. Thus, he traveled to Persia where there was a quite renowned and exclusive medical school. He did not have the economic means or previous schooling to attend but he impressed the headmaster with his passion and knowledge. Thus, the headmaster admitted him into the Madrassa. The European boy then invested all his time doing research, dissections and treating patients until he finally found out what ailment caused his mother’s death, side sickness (appendicitis). He figured out a way to treat this illness, removal of the appendix. From his initial necessity which was the driving force for him to pursue a medical career, he became a famous physician and felt that all his suffering and odyssey were worthwhile. The sense of necessity leads to the feeling of passion. It was his love for his mother that made him follow such a journey full of obstacles. I am beginning to apply that to my own life. I want to figure out my necessity which will be the driving force to power through university and medical school without ever feeling burnt out. I want to feel fulfilled. I believe this is what all pre-medical students and teachers should think about. What is your necessity? We are going to be dealing with human life, someone’s mother, father, friend, sister, uncle, lover, husband, or child...It is not something to be taken lightly. I know so many doctors lacking empathy because they went into the medical field with just the intention of being acknowledged as “Doctors” and getting rich. But I feel that even the most apathetic healthcare workers can become great empathetic professionals the moment they realize that something was triggered deep inside them, perhaps a loved one having an unknown disease. This would lead the apathetic doctor to do mass amounts of research to try to find a cure. This feeling becomes a necessity. A necessity to not lose the loved one. A necessity to save lives. Thus, finding passion, purpose, and becoming a better person. Though each person is different, we all share a selfish feeling. Most of the time we do not truly care about other peoples’ suffering until it happens to us. Once we are affected by something, we drive all our time and attention to find a solution or a way to deal with a problem. We become consumed and completely obsessed by it. I regard this as passion. I do not think passion subsides, it lingers on inside us. It is a fire that never burns out. I remember my high school teacher writing in my yearbook:

Remember a few things, BE PATIENT. You are eager and you will accomplish so much. But take your time, you are always rushing. Life is a journey, it is not about the destination. Be picky. You love everything with enthusiasm but enthusiasm can burn out. Find a fire inside yourself that burns for a long time.

-V

We cannot rush our personal legend. I believe it comes to us. It is Maktub (it’s written). But we also have to do something. Imagine you are on a stranded island but you have a machete, a fishing rod, coconuts, a cave for shelter, wood for a fire, an ocean full of fish. Everything required for survival is there, but you simply have to cut open the coconut with the machete, go fishing for food, fire to cook, and warmth. The fish isn’t going to swim right into your hands and the fire will not light itself. We must use our resources and do our bit. The Universe has a lot going on, we must help out a bit.

If you ever think about quitting, try to remember what made you start your odyssey in the first place. I do not know what my necessity is yet but that is okay. I believe it will come to me eventually. So for now, I simply love to romanticize academia. I like to imagine the: earthy tones of the universities archways, cobblestone paths, laboratories with clean Erlenmeyer flasks, beakers, pristine white lab coats, bunsen burner flames changing colors as different salts are added, Bromothymol Blue pen stains, elegant calculations inside a worn leather-bound notebook, formulas scrawled over the blackboard, forgotten cold Irish breakfast tea on the desk, academics discussing theories, applause from a successful experiment, gray rainy days spent inside the lab, Whitman, Hemingway, et Sir Arthur Conon Doyle being read during break, intellectual conversations with professors, chemistry reports being written, molecular models built, volumes of ancient words, fire slowly burning in the stone fireplace, trying to understand, looking at the constellations on a clear night in the astronomy tower, reciting poetry, Tchaikovsky playing whilst completing a long lab report on Lê Chatelier’s theory of Equilibrium, curious minds, sleepless evenings in the library, beautiful anatomical illustrations...Just imagining these things motivate and inspire me to continue my path. Though it may seem superficial, it awakens something inside me. I yearn and I pine to become a Chemistry Romantic. 

I want to conclude this letter by saying that pupils and educators keep ideals alive and can change them accordingly as well. We have the power to become excellent professionals or simply exist and do nothing for the human race. But if you plan on becoming a physician or educator, you must find the trigger which brings your passion to life, your necessity. Once you find that, you are guaranteed greatness and fulfillment. However, do not rush. Perfection takes time. A couple of obstacles should not hinder you from persevering. Many will tell you to give up but do not. That is the Universe testing you. Do your best until you master the topic. Once you know better, you are then able to do better. 

Regards,

Confessions from a Chemistry Academic

[candlelight27]

Chapter 1: The Call Of Yesterday

Summary: Sylvain has been ignoring you since you met him. You had been in love with him since you met him. College is about to offer you a fresh start. New academic year, new life. You were ready to forget him. But fate seems to have other plans... (COLLEGE AU)

Series: Seeking Your Warmth If Only For A Day

Warnings: Not so unrequited love, Sylvain being an asshole, curse words

Pairings: Sylvain Jose Gautier x Female Reader

Word Count: 3617

AO3: The Call Of Yesterday

A/N:  Okay, my aim is not for this College AU to be faithful to reality, but to incarnate my own college fantasy. I’m tring to use a lot of characters to make it interesting. Anyways, come talk to me! Send me your suggestions, your comments, your thoughts... And enjoy this fic!

“This is going to be my year”, you told yourself as you got ready for your first day of university. You were brushing your hair and styling it the way Dorothea suggested, since she always knew what would suit everyone’s features. You wanted to be perfect because that was going to be a special day.

Your mind wandered off into the days you spent in Garreg Mach High School. You smiled softly at the reminiscence, since some of the most beautiful memories you harboured took place there, between those cherished halls. Prom night, summer c88uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu

amps, the sports club... You were going to miss that time, but you had to move on.

For that matter, it was about time you moved on from a certain thorn in your heart. One that had been bothering you for years. Of course, that thorn had a name, a middle name, and a surname, all too well known to everyone at Garreg Mach.

Sylvain Jose Gautier.

Your own particular unrequited love story.

Your crush on him was kept a secret throughout all high school, naturally. How could it not be? You had fell for the most renowned womanizer of your year – probably the most renowned womanizer of the whole history of your school. He was handsome, he was intelligent, he was nonchalant and carefree, yes, but he also was an asshole, and you didn’t want your friends acknowledging the fact that you had fell fully for his tricks. However, there was something quite worse than falling for the corny clichés and shameless lines Sylvain constantly used. Something far worse than melting with his every word and dying to be the girls whose cheeks he made blush. And infinitely worse than spending all your breaks trying to catch a glance of his fiery hair around the corners of the building.

The thing is that Sylvain had never spared a second glance to you. He hadn’t even tried to flirt you, unlike he did with the whole female community.

That complete banishment was what mortified you the most in your romantic ordeal.

You remembered that time Ingrid introduced you to her childhood friends, Dimitri, Felix and Sylvain. They had gone to the field to cheer her during a football match of your high school team. You had heard of them before and saw them often on the corridors, but you had never crossed a word with any of them, as they were in Ingrid’s class and not yours. You were quite excited to finally talk to Sylvain, for you had been looking at him in the distance ever since Ingrid started telling you stories about him. Yet while your heart pounced like a runaway horse, he only muttered a ‘hi’ and disappeared into thin air.

“Apologise our friend. He’s always off to chase skirts, it’s nothing personal”, tried to explain Dimitri, ever the gentleman.

The next few times you met him, he merely pronounced monosyllables to your efforts of striking up a conversation. Even Ingrid commented on how dry his behaviour was when you were there. How could love appear out of nowhere? It was probably the stupidity of puberty. But your desire was out of control and you couldn’t help going back to him. To those light brown eyes that seemed to melt your heart…

But it was all water under the bridge. You grew up. That silly attraction ongoing for years was going to meet its end with your fresh start at university. Your teenage love was gone with the wind.

You had all summer to psych yourself up and forget him. So far so good. No nigh-time fantasies to keep suffering, no fateful encounters to revive the forgotten flame, nothing to remind you of Sylvain.

You even went on a date with Ferdinand, something completely new for you. It was Dorothea, always meddling in your love life, who had set you up with him when she wormed out of you that you liked redheads. She was convinced your lifelong crush was Ferdinand, because you had been on the same class since you were kids. After such a pompous announce of your date with him, you almost felt bad for your brunette friend as you told her how horribly wrong your date was, but in the end you both laughed about it.

So, yes. You were indeed free from the fetters that Sylvain had bounded without realizing. Or so you thought. You didn’t want to think about that small trace of doubt that told you it would all be in vain the second you see him again after summer break.

“This is going to be my year…”, you repeated out loud as a chant while you gathered your things for your lessons.

“Are you ready?”, asked Ingrid from another room. She was now your flatmate, on one hand because a sudden friendship had bloomed during the holidays, on the other hand because Dorothea was stuck with a new exchange student, Petra, and Mercedes couldn’t be separated from Annette, so you both ended up alone and it seemed the obvious solution. You didn’t complain, you liked her company and things were working just fine.

“Yes!”, you answered and joined her in the entrance, rucksack on your back and phone on your hand.

Her blonde hair was tied neatly in a long braid and her clothes were comfortable yet formal, just like her usual self. She seemed excited for the fresh start, too, as she rushed to talk about the upcoming lessons.

You left the student’s residence, following a couple of groups of people you didn’t know. It was a sunny morning, thus the beams of light shone right though the leaves, already changing their colours at autumn’s pace. While you walked, Ingrid was checking her phone for new messages.

“Are you talking to the guys?”, you asked as you wondered about Sylvain’s schedule in silence – not that you were interested, you wanted to make sure you avoided him –. You didn’t want to be too straightforward, because even the most oblivious person, Ingrid in this case, would notice there was something going on if you were too invested in his affairs, so you were cautious.

“Oh, right now I’m talking to Ashe.” She smiled, still typing. You raised your eyebrows.

“I thought you weren’t that close to him.”

“He’s attending all my lessons so I’m checking a few things with him”, she answered. You nodded and checked your own phone.

Dorothea (08:45): I’m waiting for you on Anna’s Café.

Dorothea (08:45): HURRY UP YOU ARE SLOWER THAN MY GRANNY

“Dorothea’s waiting ahead for us”, you commented.

“Who are you sharing lessons with?”, Ingrid questioned, putting her phone away in her pocket. You hadn’t seen her so interested in the machine ever – you’d have to figure out if it was Ashe’s fault.

“I’m not sure!”, you said. “I think I’m sharing subjects with some of the Golden Deers… Marianne, Lysithea, Claude… Also, Mercedes and Bernadetta.” You weren’t that close to any of them in particular. You sometimes hoped you had closer friends with you, but at least it was a good opportunity to become closer to new people.

“That’s quite the group! All the houses of Garreg Mach mixed!”, the blonde exclaimed. She was right, it was going to be quite the sight – and an exciting adventure, too, you supposed. “Yesterday Sylvain told me he’s going to be in my first lesson today along with Felix, and on some other ones. But the ones who got the same itinerary as me are Dimitry and Ashe, so I’m going to see them often.” She made a pause, as if imagining the future. You, on the other hand, were delighted to hear you weren’t going to share classes with Sylvain. “Leonie and Edelgard have chosen that itinerary too –”

“Hello!” Dorothea sprang to you, dressed in the latest trend, as always. Her smile was radiant.

“Hi, Dorothea! We were talking about who’s on our classes”, commented Ingrid.

“I’m with Hilda! I was hoping some handsome boys would be on my classes but Hilda said she did the research and was quite disappointed.” Dorothea sighed but suddenly called your name. “Claude is in your class, right?” You nodded with caution. “Didn’t you get along with Claude?” You nodded again, furrowing your brows in suspicion. “You could ask him out!”

Ingrid started laughing while Dorothea’s voice was a sweet giggle.

“Playing the matchmaker again, Dorothea?” Ingrid tried to calm herself. “Last time, it was a disaster.”

“Yes, sorry for that”, offered Dorothea.

“Don’t sweat it”, you said, shaking your head humorously.

“But”, the singer wasn’t one to let things go, “he’s actually very hot. Everyone with eyes can see that. And he’s really easy going, unlike Ferdinand. And smart! You must have a lot in common –”

“I’m fine.” You had repeated the same many times. Your friends were trying to set you up on dates lately. “I can manage myself pretty well.”

“You could use a little stress relief though…” Ingrid blushed this time hearing Dorothea’s words. Noticing the silence, the brunette continued. “This goes for you too, Ingrid!”

“That’s not true!”

“Anyways, where’s Petra?” You tried to divert her attention as you were approaching your building.

“She had to sign some documents, so she must be in the main office,” informed Dorothea with a bright smile, her good mood contagious.

“I want to meet her”, said Ingrid, who hadn’t moved yet when you all were acquainted with the student from Brigid. You hadn’t shared more than a few greetings, but she was getting really close to her flatmate.

“We are going to throw a party at my house next week or the other!”, Dorothea announced with excitement. “If you don’t bump into her before, you’ll get to know here there.”

Even though you knew Dorothea’s parties tended to get out of hand, they were always fun, and it could be a great start for something new. You would have to work hard to convince Ingrid, who didn’t like going out that much.

And like that, you reached your destination and parted from them.

The halls of the place where you’d spend your next course studying were filled with students. All seemed to be trying to find the right way to their new classrooms. Chatter filled the air as you read the indications on your phone. It was confusing finding your way in the intricate web of corridors and doors.

“Where is room 122?”, you muttered and chewed your lip.

You found the room 121, but room 122 wasn’t nowhere in sight. You looked at the map, and figured it had to be around the next corner, so you kept walking to the direction you thought was right. You saw your phone, and it was almost 9 a.m., so you increased your rhythm. Then, you turned left.

Only to bump into someone. More specifically, someone’s chest.

You were quite confused as you fell on your butt and your backpack flew. Your bottom ached. Disoriented, you let out a faint ‘sorry’, but you were not sure to who it was directed. When you processed the situation, and that you were indeed going to be late on your very first day of university, you lifted your glance with the intention of getting up fast and entering your classroom.

Yet light brown eyes that seemed to melt your heart stared back at you.

“Are you all right?” The question was announced by a smooth, rich voice.

It was Sylvain.

Shit.

You felt a rush of nervousness that run all over your body. You tried articulating a sentence, a word, anything to play it off cool, but your tongue didn’t respond, so you simply nodded. You weren’t okay, but he didn’t need to know that. Sylvain seemed quite surprised. His luscious lips were parted slightly, his pupils were fixed on you, and he remained as still as a statue, which only added to your agitation. At last, as if he was awakened from a trance, he rose his eyebrows and extended his hand.

“Sorry, let me help you.”

You grabbed your rucksack and took his hand. It was warm, soft, and strong. Sylvain helped you up and you could see you were right in front of your classroom.

“I have to… go to my first lesson”, you said as you pointed at the door.

“Oh, yes. Me too”, he flashed you an award-winning smile of his, totally recomposed of the mishap. “I think we share itineraries.”

“I thought you were… with Felix. And Ingrid,” you said. Inside of you, your thoughts were rioting. This couldn’t be true, you repeated yourself over and over. Half of you was trying to stay calm and affirm yourself that your stupid crush was over. The other half was sheltering some kind of hope you didn’t have time to identify. What was clear was that the redhead managed to break all of your expectations once again and you didn’t like it one bit. Of course, you put on a blank face, totally disconnected from your real feelings.

“Yes, right. I switched itineraries this morning”, he extended his hand and hold the doorknob. “My father signed me up for the one he wanted without any kind of regard to what I wanted in life… So, yeah, thankfully I had time to change everything before it was too late.” He opened the door for you.

“That’s… nice”, you smiled timidly.

“We’ll see each other often, then.” You entered the lecture room and Sylvain walked behind. It was big and spacious, and it was full of students. But at that time, it was as if only Sylvain existed. You’d have to get used to his presence in your lessons. A new challenge, but you were going to ignore him anyways.

Sylvain bid you farewell with a ‘see you’ and took a seat next to Mercedes.

You looked around to see where you could see. You saw a smiling Claude waving at you, right next to Lysithea and Marianne, and making gestures for you to come closer. “Sit with us!”, you barely understood what he said with all the chatter in the room, but his body language left no doubt.

“Hi!”, exclaimed Lysithea, looking cheerful and determined as always. Marianne looked collected and waved her hand. They both seemed much more mature after summer break.

“I’m glad to see you here! Just in time.” Claude moved his books in order to make some room for you at his side. You took the seat and settled there.

“Nice to see some familiar faces here”, you told the Almyran.

“I wonder what this year has in store for us…”, he continued, but he couldn’t finish the rest.

A young professor appeared. He looked like another student, but you could sense the authoritarian aura around him. His short hair was dark blue, and he wore black clothes. This new face sparked your curiosity, and although you were dying to turn your head and see what Sylvain was doing, you forced yourself our of your own trap. ‘Focus! You’re here to study, dammit!’, you chastised yourself.

“My name is Byleth and I’m going to teach ‘Fódlan’s history and culture’”, started the new professor.

Then, Byleth proceeded to give a long, detailed, and boring speech about the bureaucratic minutiae related his subject. It was completely tedious. He went over percentages, grading systems, schedules, credits and so on. He was really testing your will at not being distracted.

Rather than yielding to temptation, you turned around to see what Claude was doing. He was stretching like a cat and yawning. When he realised you were looking at him, he winked at you. You weren’t expecting it, so you nervously smirked and looked elsewhere. You swore it was a coincidence that your glance just happened to fall upon the infamous womanizer of Garreg Mach.

Unexpectedly, your eyes met with Sylvain’s. You decided your safest option was looking at your professor and finally paying attention.

What was happening that disastrous day? The Goddess herself must have been punishing you. You felt like you lost a war to your heart. You thought you had finished the chapter where all you did was thinking about Sylvain, you were going to date someone else, maybe fall in love and, above all, you were going to avoid returning to those years head over heels for someone who didn’t even know your name – or at least you supposed so, since he had never said it. Instead of the sensible thing, your whole being decided to betray your will, and you were all flushed and flustered with a single look of that man. It didn’t matter it was the first time he paid attention to you or that your longest conversation had been held that very same day. It didn’t matter to your dumb heart, which-

“This project will be done in pairs and it’s about the 25-30% of the final grade.” Oh, you might have wanted to pay attention to that, now that Byleth was saying something quite important.

“What did he say?”, you asked Claude.

“Too busy giving Sylvain the eye?”, he remarked, a satisfied smirk on the side of his face.

“Claude!”, you tried to scold him, but as you were whispering, it sounded like a high-pitched yell of guilt. Just like your feelings.

“Okay, okay. No need to get your knickers in a twist”, he couldn’t resist teasing you. “There’s this big project, 30% of the final grade or so. We have to research a topic he will give.” He sighed. “The professor also added that he’s going to assign the partners. I know it’s for our own good, for the sake of team working and all that boring paraphernalia, but it kind of sucks.”

“Maybe we’ll be lucky and we will be able to work together”, you tried to look at the bright side.

“As much as I’d love that, I think it’d be far more interesting if you got paired with someone else we know…”, he trailed off, testing the waters.

“I don’t know what you are talking about”, you sentenced.

“I’m not a fool. I know you’ve liked him since high school”. That, you weren’t expecting it. You hadn’t been exactly secretive with your longing staring, but you hadn’t been expecting the master of gossip to be after your very own secret. “Don’t make that face. I didn’t tell anyone, but you can’t fool me.”

“Just don’t tell Dorothea or I’m not going to hear the end of it”, you surrendered and pleaded. What was the use of hiding it longer? Besided, Claude made you feel comfortable and you though that he might be the right person to help you.

“Don’t worry. Just, why him?”, he wondered.

“I… It’s something beyond my control. It’s like I was condemned to love him and I can’t escape by any means. Like a force of fate is controlling me.” Now that you got to put it to word… it was the perfect description to how you felt. And you wondered how that could be.

“And how come you haven’t hooked up yet?” He laughed again at your expression of shame. “He’s Sylvain! Come on!”

“He ignored me. As in, he had never talked to me in high school”, it actually felt better than you imagined having someone to talk to. And Claude always kept quiet about other’s matters. He knew everyone’s secrets, but he never told any.

“That’s… weird. I will investigate that.” He placed his hand on his chin and his expression turned meditative. “He seems interested in you now, tough.”

“What do you mean?”, you couldn’t believe him. But something told you that it must be true if it was Claude who noticed it.

“He’s been looking at you for 40 minutes.”

You turned around and, in effect, Sylvain was looking at you. This time, it was him who moved away his gaze, a bit embarrassed to have been caught.

“So, from what I’ve seen,” Claude started to sum up, “you are trying to ignore him – don’t deny it, I’ve seen you stealing glances – because he had rejected you all high school. But now he’s flirty and charming, so you are on square one.”

“Yes, you could say so.” You were ashamed, but eager to see where he was going.

“There’s only one solution.” He moved his head closer to you, as if it was a conspiration.

“What is it?” He decidedly had captured you then, and you moved your head closer to hear him better.

“Play it along. See what happens. Don’t implicate yourself too much, but find out what changed.”

Right before you could answer, Lysithea shushed you. The professor was beginning to announce the pairs. As expected, most of your friends ended up with an unknown partner. Marianne was lucky and was set to work with Mercedes, one of the sweetest girls you knew. Bernadetta, who you hadn’t noticed until that moment, was paired with a girl called Monica, who seemed eerily familiar. Your name hadn’t been said, and neither did Sylvain’s, much to Claude’s delight.

After a long list of surnames, you didn’t recognise, it was your turn. While your name left your professors lips, your eyes widened. You raised your hand so Byleth could identify you with the name.

“Okay. There. Your partner will be…”, he was scanning the remaining names, for the list was almost finished. “Sylvain Jose Gautier.”

“Fate has decided for you”, Claude commented. You looked at Sylvain, and he had the audacity to smirk and wink at you. Outrageous.

You were then sure of it. Sothis was laughing at you. How were you supposed to survive this year?

[atamascolily]

Shield of Lies, continued.

What would my mother think of me? he wondered, and it was the first time such a thought had ever confronted him.

Luke, you really suck at introspection, don’t you? Like... NEVER in TEN YEARS have you EVER wondered about your mother? Sigh.

Shortly after the reorganization of the government, Nanaod Engh had given Luke keys to most of the real treasures of the New Republic—the central data libraries maintained by various branches of the General Ministry. Thanks to Admiral Ackbar’s intervention, Luke also carried the highest-grade security clearance held by any civilian.

Between the two, Luke had—potentially—a great deal of information at his fingertips. But the access he had been granted was a courtesy, not a necessity. Luke’s most urgent curiosities were in areas of little interest to bureaucracies, and he had never found reason to make much use of the favors extended him.

But he found himself with reason now.

Speaking of lack of imagination.... SIGH.

Luke returned to the pilot’s couch and curled up sideways in it. “How do people become part of the circle?”

“Curiosity is not sufficient—which I hazard you know. Some are born to it. Some come to it. Is it any different in your discipline?”

“Born with the gift, do you mean, or born to someone who already belongs, to a trained adept?”

“Is the gift not in the blood?”

“Sometimes it seems that way. Sometimes it seems as if the talent goes wild, almost as if the Force chooses its own,” Luke said, turning on his back and propping one foot on the control panel.

“Why, what do you mean?”

“Look at the way the Jedi are coming back,” said Luke. “The Empire hunted us so relentlessly that most everyone who escaped thought they were the only Jedi left. But it isn’t just that a few solitaries who were hiding have resurfaced. I’ve found students with no family history whatsoever, in species that were never represented before in the Order.”

“Some of your number may have been adventurous travelers,” said Akanah. “On Carratos, I heard many jokes about how the Emperor spent his evenings. If a Jedi sleeps alone, surely it must be by choice, as it is with you.”

LOL, Akanah doesn’t know about Callista. Or Gaeriel. Or anything else about Luke’s messed-up love life.

“Are you saying that you expected me to warm a bed with you?” Luke said. “I didn’t think that was our bargain.”

“No,” she said. “I never expected that.”

“Then what are you saying?”

“That Luke Skywalker could have a hundred children by now. A thousand.”

“That’s crazy.”

“No—that’s the simple truth. There are different rules for heroes and royalty, and you’re seen as a little of both. You can’t be unaware of that.”

Luke frowned and looked away. “I don’t know how to be a father to one child, much less a thousand.”

“You wouldn’t need to know,” she said. “Their mothers wouldn’t expect it. They would be grateful enough for the gift.”

“I’d expect it of me,” he said, and firmly steered the conversation back on course. “We were talking about my being an honorary member of the circle—”

Again, I’m surprised by Luke’s lack of imagination--and offers--given how people at the spaceport viewed him. Did none of them really think, “I would totally bang this dude?” WHY IS HE SO SURPRISED?

Also Luke, just say “fuck,” it’s okay, I promise.

“We were talking about my being an honorary member of the circle—”

“Not honorary,” she corrected. “Novice.”

“Novice, then. But there’s an exception in your oath for people like me?”

“Every adept has the right to judge and the duty to teach,” she said. “I’ve made my judgment.”

“And the rest?” Luke asked. “We’ve had many hours together—why haven’t you started to teach me?”

“But I have,” she said. “I’ve asked you to think about what you know and believe. To go beyond that, the novice must ask for the door to be opened. But you aren’t ready to think of yourself as a student again—not yet. You run too well and easily to go back to crawling.”

#accurate. Luke spends most of this book so convinced he knows everything and yet he can’t figure out why he’s so stuck in a rut.

“No,” Luke said, shaking his head. “To be a Jedi is to be a seeker. A Jedi is always learning. It’s only on the dark side that one becomes obsessed with knowing, and impressed with doing.”

“There’s a touch of the dark side,” Akanah said slowly, “in the way you cling to the privilege of killing, and resist the teaching I’ve offered you. A hint of a mind that has settled on answers and resents being challenged with new questions.”

Luke toyed with the lacing on his longshirt as he considered her words. “You may be right,” he said finally. “I found the Force at a time when what I needed was power. I wanted a weapon to protect my friends, not enlightenment. I was thinking of war against the Empire, not peace with the universe. Perhaps something of that lingers in how I see myself. I’ll think on it.”

“Good,” she said. “Your words give me hope. And hope is the beginning of everything worthwhile.”

I have no idea how the chronology lines up with the other plots and honestly it’s hard to care. This is the most interesting part of the book to me, and I’m STILL reeling at how late in the game this is.

He then took advantage of the open space inside the bay to work his first complete set of Jedi training drills since leaving Coruscant. Working both with and without his lightsaber, he patiently went through the complex exercises which brought him to a profound state of restful clarity.

It was in this state that he felt most keenly the truth and the wisdom of the simple words: There is no emotion; there is peace. There is no ignorance; there is knowledge. There is no passion; there is serenity. There is no death; there is the Force. The peace, the knowledge, and the serenity were gifts that came with his surrender to the Force and with his connection through the Force to all that was.

Sustaining that clarity was always the challenge. In the isolation of a Dagobah, the Jundland Wastes, or a hermitage on a frozen shore, an experienced Jedi could preserve that inner state indefinitely.

But the chaos of the real world was another matter. When ego returned, so did will. The surrender became tainted, the connection flawed. The clarity gradually slipped away under the continuous assault of elementary drives and passions. Even the greatest of the masters needed to perform the practice regularly lest they lose the discipline that made them what they were.

GAH. WHY IS IT ALWAYS DUALITY WITH YOU, KUBE-MCDOWELL? WHAT ABOUT  A MIDDLE WAY BETWEEN THE “TAINTED WORLD” AND “PURITY OF ISOLATION”. What about “entering the market-place with gift-bestowing hands”? And nothing ever stays the same “indefinitely”!!!!!

The drills were as much a test for the body as for the mind, and the docking bay’s newly sanitized shower brought a blissful peace to muscles that were telling Luke they had not been properly exercised in too long. He stood for a long time in the place where the six needle jets converged, letting the water flowing down his body become another meditation.

Yeah, maybe you should have thought of that in your hermitage-quarantine-sulk thing??

I’d forgotten about the bookstore full of Jedi forgeries!!! 

The offerings included Emperor Palpatine’s Principles of Power, a private publication for Imperial Moffs; the Sith book of offerings and rituals; the H’kig book of laws; and the secrets of forming Bilar-type claqa group-minds, among others—with a special discount if Luke took any three or more. Most of the documents were undoubtedly frauds, and none tempted Luke beyond idle curiosity over the skillfulness of the fraud.

And the Jabba’s palace re-creation OH MY GOODNESS:

But making his way to the outgate, Luke turned a corner and was taken aback by the brilliantly lit exterior of a club bar called Jabba’s Throne Room. Performing Nightly—The Original Max Rebo Band, said the scroll. Visit Jabba’s Guest Quarters with a Pleasure Slave. Face the Mighty Rancor in the Pit of Death—

Driven by an outraged curiosity, Luke joined the line and paid the membership charge without haggling. Inside, he descended a curving flight of stairs into a remarkably faithful copy of the throne room in Jabba’s desert palace on Tatooine. Some of the dimensions had been stretched to accommodate more tables in front of the bandstand and around the rancor pit, but the architecture and atmosphere were authentic.

“Why, it’s just like the Palace Museum,” [he] said to the tall and elegantly dressed Twi’lek barring the way at the bottom of the stairs.

“I’m afraid my master Jabba is away on business,” said the Bib Fortuna look-alike, nodding toward the empty dais. “But I’m having a little party in his absence, and I hope you’ll enjoy yourself.” His head-tails stirred in signal, and one of the scantily clad dancing girls hurried to him.

“Yes, Lord Fortuna,” the server said.

“Oola, this is a friend of mine,” said the major-domo. “Treat him well. Find him a seat at my best table.”

The same fiction was carried through everywhere else—an Ortolan keyboardist leading a jizz-wailer trio on the bandstand, the roaring of the rancor underfoot, an annoying Kowakian monkey-lizard skittering around the room stealing food and cackling rudely, even a carbon-frozen Han Solo hanging in the display alcove. But a busy kitchen was concealed down the corridor to the servant’s quarters, and the price card “Oola” left for him included various services available upstairs in the guest quarters and downstairs in Jabba’s dungeon.

It was tasteless and exploitative, but the music was surprisingly agreeable, the roast nerf was tantalizing, and the clientele was markedly more subdued than their counterparts out on the walks. [He] ordered a drink and the executioner’s cut of nerf, refused all other offers with a polite smile, and settled in to discover the truth quotient of The Secrets of the Jedi.

Shortly after his meal arrived, Luke’s consciousness was pricked by hearing a familiar name spoken at a nearby table: Leia’s. He looked up, fearing that the evening’s entertainment at Jabba’s Throne Room would be a dance by a slave-girl-Leia look-alike. But the band was on a break and the transparisteel dance platform over the rancor pit deserted.

I’m honestly surprised this isn’t at Galaxy’s Edge, tbh.

Shortly after, a holographic Jabba made an appearance on the dais above the main floor. That signaled the start of an elaborately scripted show that promised to involve not only “Bib Fortuna” and the dancers, but additional actors and the audience as well.

Luke took that as his cue to leave. His decision was affirmed when, climbing up the curving stairs to the street, he encountered the bounty hunter Boushh coming down them with an unconvincing Chewbacca in tow.

“Aren’t you a little short for a Wookiee?” he muttered under his breath as they passed.

LOL. Anyway, here’s some stuff on archives searches in the GFFA:

From Carratos he requested any information available from newsgrid, political, or police records on Akanah Norand Pell, Andras Pell, and Talsava. He sent the same query to Coruscant’s criminal records office and citizen registry and to the home offices of both the Coruscant Global Newsgrid and the New Republic Prime Newsgrid.

From the New Republic Reference Service, he requested a quickreport on naming conventions on Lucazec and Carratos, thinking he might parse another lead from the names in hand.

A second request to the same source asked for five-hundred-word excerpts from all matches on the key words “Fallanassi” and “White Current.” After a short debate with himself, and despite the pathetic and sensational inaccuracies of Secrets of the Jedi, Luke also contacted an information broker on Atzerri and paid a hundred credits for a search on the same keys.

He also requested a Current Terms & Conditions brochure from the chief librarian’s office on Obroa-skai. The library computers there were the only resource offering both a greater variety and a greater volume of records than those held by Coruscant.

But Obroa-skai’s generosity with its planetary treasure was limited. To protect against theft of the library, and to provide the resources needed to maintain it, accessing the records meant either going to Obroa-skai or hiring one of the library’s own trained contract researchers.

In either case, Obroa-skai was not a resource one turned to for quick answers. The official language of New Republic recordkeeping was Basic, and everything held by Coruscant was kept in one of several readily searchable data specifications. But the Obroa-skai library was a collection of primary documents, in ten thousand storage formats and uncountable languages. The most complete general index covered only fifteen percent of the library’s holdings, and all the specialty indexes combined added only a few percent to that.

Those were the principal reasons why the brochure—which Luke received within minutes of requesting it, as the first response to any of his inquiries—reported that a normal single-part library search was averaging eight days. The waiting list for terminal time was holding at fifteen days, and the backlog for contract researchers had climbed to seventy.

LOL. I should definitely use that in a fic at some point.

[skelebonecentral]

Hothouse rose chapter 1

a reverse harem with the lust boys

first we gotta meet the basic skeles

words under cut

Frisk was your cousin.

They’d run away, a week after their mom passed away. Your aunt, their other mother, was frantic and your whole family had gone out searching, as well as most of the town. You’re so glad it was your dad’s oldest sister who first caught sight of the monsters and not the sheriff or someone not quite as sensible.

Frisk came back from the mountain that loomed above your town with a whole civilization behind them.

Yeah, they tried to hook their mom up with Toriel, the strong, kind, and welcoming goat woman who was the Queen of the monsters, but Frisk was just a very romantic kid in general. They flirted as a hobby, it was hilarious and you were so glad they were back and safe to continue cracking you up with it.

They hugged everyone and apologized for scaring them, that they figured out that just because they were hurting didn’t mean it was okay to hurt other people, when they finally got the chance to exit the monsters’ camp after the police and government and all kinds of things showed up.

Still, you had to admire them for how much they grew up if that was what they wanted to say right away. Well, sign. Frisk was mute, after all.

Having them home was so nice, and their new friends were awesome.

You met Toriel first, of course, and her ex-husband, Asgore. You felt sorry for the big fluffy guy, he looked so hopeless and sad when Toriel would glare at him. And Frisk called him Dad, that was so cute, cause he just lit up. It was weird, though, feeling so pitying toward a ten foot tall goat man with huge horns and a long golden beard who had been alive for centuries longer than you.

Still, you liked both the goat people, and Monster Kid, Frisk’s new bestie who ran around with them. He was…well, he was a monster kid. Lizardish, with a tail and yellow-orange scales, but no arms to speak of. It made him top heavy, since he was humanoid, so he fell over often. Frisk seemed very fond of him, and you were glad. They hadn’t had a lot of luck making friends with other human kids at school before all of this.

But Frisk, being the eternal matchmaker they were, decided YOU needed to get in on this whole monster friend business.

Of course, you didn’t realize it until Gyftmas. It was a monster holiday from Snowdin, a small town Underground, that centered around gift giving and involved Santa for some reason? Anyway, the monster community was holding a carnival inside the local event center (it was mid-September so there weren’t any OTHER holidays to do) and your little cousin, being the ambassador, was of course invited and they brought you as their plus one.

Did you forget to mention that Frisk was the ambassador for monsters? They are. Well, at least in name. That’s their official title, is Ambassador, but they’re more like a figurehead while Toriel and Asgore handle the actual statecraft. The adults do let them cut ribbons and make speeches, but they’re just not ready for something that complicated. They are only six, after all.

But back to the carnival, Frisk brought you, and took you to a particular booth.

The booth was decorated with several action figures from an old 80’s cartoon that you used to love watching reruns of, and the sign above said, “THE GREAT PAPYRUS’ TRIVIA BOOTH!”

Frisk beamed as they dragged you, and looking in the booth, there was a very tall soldier-looking fellow who seemed to be a skeleton.

“HELLO, DEAR FRISK! I SEE YOU BROUGHT A HUMAN WITH YOU!” he called exuberantly, waving with bright red mittens. He had a black something or other on under the white chest piece of…oh that’s not actually armor. As you got closer, you’re now aware its made of fabric and the lines and emblem on the front are felt pieces sewn to it. The big round shoulder pads are attached, too.

Frisk signs eagerly, “Hi Papyrus! This is my cousin, Y/N! I wanted them to try your trivia!” Their hands are going very fast, and they’re bouncing, so they’re very excited about this.

“OH!” the skeleton stands up, showing his very obvious spine in his black whateverthatis and the odd ultra-short shorts that match his chest piece. “HELLO, HUMAN Y/N! I AM THE GREAT PAPYRUS AND IT IS A PLEASURE TO MEET A RELATIVE OF MY DEAR FRIEND, FRISK!”

He holds out his hand, and you shake it, feeling the long fingerbones underneath and finding yourself grinning like an idiot. Holy heck, an actual skeleton was talking to you. Your inner child was screaming with joy in their Jack-skellington slippers. Frisk had to have known…well, how could they not, your room is covered in Halloween and skeleton themed knickknacks.

“H-hey, Papyrus, I’m super glad to meet you, too!” you didn’t mean to stammer but you’re trying not to freak out as your arm is nearly shaken from its socket. He’s so STRONG!

Frisk giggled and signed something too quick for you to parse, and Papyrus let you go, “OH, ALRIGHT! HAVE A GOOD TIME, FRISK! YOUR COUSIN AND I WILL HAVE A BATTLE OF WITS!”

They scampered away and left you with the skeleton, who pulled out a fold out chair, setting it in front of his booth and then sitting in his own behind the counter, “ALRIGHTIE THEN! HUMAN Y/N, YOUR CHALLENGE SHALL BE TO ANSWER TEN QUESTIONS ABOUT MONSTER CULTURE. THE MORE YOU GET CORRECT, THE BETTER YOUR PRIZE! BEING FRISK’S COUSIN, YOU SHOULD DO VERY WELL!”

“Don’t be so sure, Papyrus. I have some wicked test anxiety,” you joke, and he blinks his sockets at you.

“NO NEED TO BE NERVOUS!” His smile seems set in his long jawed skull, but it actually tilts up a bit more, “SOMEONE WHO LOVES OUR FRISK IS BOUND TO BE A GOOD LISTENER AND KIND SOUL, SO I HAVE FAITH IN YOU. FIRST QUESTION!” he whipped out a set of cards, “WHAT IS KING ASGORE’S FAVORITE DRINK?”

You smile, happy it’s one you know, “Golden Flower Tea. He likes tea in general but that’s his favorite.”

“CORRECT! WOWIE, AND SO CONFIDENT!” Papyrus seems just as pleased as you are, “NEXT ONE! WHAT WAS THE FIRST SECTION OF THE UNDERGROUND CALLED?”

“Ah,” you had to think a moment, then said cautiously, “I think it was the Ruins?”

“YOU’RE RIGHT.” Papyrus then set two further action figures from the same set as his decorations, “THESE WILL MARK YOUR SUCCESSES! ALRIGHT, NEXT!” He shifted his sockets in a comical manner that you had to fight your instinct to laugh at, “HOW MANY MOVIES HAS METTATON, OUR BELOVED STAR, PUT OUT AS OF TODAY?”

You blink…and you have to guess because you honestly don’t care for Mettaton’s version of movies, “28?”

Papyrus’ jaw just falls open, and he sets another figure on the counter, “I THOUGHT FOR SURE THAT WOULD STUMP YOU! I’M FLABBERGASTED. YOU MUST BE A VERY DEDICATED FAN OF METTATON, JUST LIKE MYSELF.”

You blush, “N-not really. His music and dancing are great, but the movies go over my head, I guess. I only watched one because Frisk wanted me to…”

He chuckles, “AT LEAST YOU ARE HONEST. I WATCH THEM FOR THE FUN OF SEEING EVERYONE ELSE’S REACTIONS, HONESTLY. AND THE SET DESIGNS! THEY’RE VERY WELL DONE, AFTER ALL.”

“Oh, yeah, I did notice that. I bet a lot of Broadway plays would love to get his input on that front.”

Papyrus perked up, “BROADWAY? I KNOW A STREET BY THAT NAME BUT I GET THE FEELING YOU’RE REFERRING TO A THEATER OR SOMETHING SIMILAR.”

“Kind of?” you quirk your mouth a bit, not really smiling but thinking about it, “It’s a street in New York City with lots of theaters on it that’s famous for having the best in plays and musicals in the country. It’s really a cool place, from what I hear.”

“OOH! I SHOULD LOOK UP MORE ABOUT THAT LATER. ANYWAY!” He gets out a set of note cards, “I WROTE ALL THE QUESTIONS DOWN SO I COULD HAVE LOTS OF CHOICES. YOU’RE DOING A LOT BETTER THAN SOME PEOPLE!”

You were getting excited now, wondering what he could ask.

“OKAY! WHAT WAS THE NAME OF OUR LOST PRINCE?”

You frown. That was a serious question, and you think back to Frisk’s descriptions they would give you now and then of their time under the mountain. “Asriel.” You remembered thinking his name sounded angelic.

“ANOTHER FIGURE FOR YOU!” Papyrus plops the next figure on the desk and…

“Is that the villain? I didn’t know they even made a figure for him.” You can’t help yourself, not when you’d loved his antics as a kid. “Lord Verminator, looking good.”

Papyrus gasped, “YOU LIKE ALIEN WARLORDS OF JUSTICE?! I THOUGHT HUMANITY HAD FORGOTTEN THIS CLASSIC SERIES! I HAVE EVERY FIGURE EVER MADE EXCEPT FOR THREE, AND EVERY EPISODE ON VARIOUS VHS TAPES. I WILL HAVE TO ASK FOR FRISK TO BRING YOU OVER AND HAVE A MARATHON!”

You nod eager, “I know I haven’t been able to see every episode. I only got a few episodes they put on an old cable channel but it was so good. I managed to salvage some merch from antique stores, but it’s never been enough.”

“THERE WAS MORE THAN ACTION FIGURES?!” Papyrus is awestruck, orange sparkles appearing around his skull. “OH THIS HAS TO BE FATE! MY FIRST HUMAN FRIEND HAS A GROWN-UP COUSIN WHO LOVES THE SAME SERIES AS I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS? SERENDIPITOUS!”

You finally laugh and nod, “You’re so peppy! How did Frisk manage to keep you a secret? I wish we’d met sooner now.”

His sparkles increased, and he began pumping his fists up and down eagerly, “DO YOU REALLY MEAN IT? BECAUSE IF SO, I AGREE WHOLEHEARTEDLY! LET’S GET THIS QUIZ OVER WITH SO WE CAN GUSH ABOUT OUR FAVORITE THINGS INSTEAD!”

He takes a notecard and asks, “WHAT IS THE SYMBOL OF OUR KINGDOM CALLED?”

“The one Toriel wears, right? I think…it was the Delta Rune?”

“YES!” the card was set down, a figure was placed, and another card picked up, “WHO IS THE CAPTAIN OF THE ROYAL GUARD?”

“Undyne.” You sigh, “She tried to suplex me the first time I had to go to Toriel’s to pick up Frisk.”

“OH, THAT WAS YOU?” Papyrus tilts his skull, and you notice his sockets are slightly uneven. You also notice you like hearing him talk, even though he’s very loud. “SHE TOLD ME SOME HUMAN CAME AND MANAGED TO DODGE HER GRAB. SHE’S BEEN TRYING TO GET FASTER AFTER THAT.”

You want to comment, but Papyrus gets another card, “WHO CREATED THE CORE?“ he stops, frowns, then tosses the cards behind him, “THAT ONE WAS ACTUALLY A TRICK QUESTION, BECAUSE NOBODY KNOWS WHO DID IT! AND AS MUCH AS I LIKE TRIVIA, I’M MORE EXCITED ABOUT TALKING WITH YOU.”

Smiling, you take his elbow when he offers it, despite him being two feet taller than you, even in his flat bottomed red rain boots, “That’s pretty flattering. What was the prize for the quiz, though? I’m curious.”

“A DATE WITH YOURS TRULY!” Papyrus laughed, “NYEHEHEHE, BUT I HAVE A FEELING HUMANS WOULD BE RATHER INTIMIDATED BY SOMEONE AS HANDSOME AND CAPABLE AS MYSELF, SO GIVING YOU A TOUR SEEMS MUCH NICER.”

Papyrus led you around the event center, pointing at the various booths and explaining them, even sometimes introducing you to the monster manning it. You didn’t see hide nor hair of Frisk for the rest of the evening, but you didn’t really notice. Papyrus’ enthusiastic rambling and genuine glee at showing you around kept you glued to his side gladly.

When the crowds had thinned out considerably, you asked, “Papyrus, this has been the most fun I’ve had at a fair in years. I’d really like to do more cool stuff like this with you, so maybe we could exchange numbers?”

He froze, then turned, big sparkles appearing again, including inside his sockets, “WOWIE, REALLY?! OF COURSE WE CAN! I REALIZE IT IS LATE AND HUMAN BEINGS NEED PLENTY OF SLEEP TO BE HEALTHY, UNLIKE THE GREAT PAPYRUS, SO LET US HURRY!”

He shoved his phone into your hand and you gave him yours, typing in your number and naming yourself with a balloon emoji on the end to remind him of the fun fair you’d shared together. You get your phone back as you hold out his, and it says “THE GREAT PAPYRUS” with a skull emoji and a gold medal one on the end.

“Perfect! Feel free to text me whenever, but I might not answer if I’m busy or sleeping.”

He nodded, “I UNDERSTAND! I WILL PROBABLY BE TEXTING YOU QUITE OFTEN, BUT FEEL FREE TO TAKE YOUR TIME. UNDYNE SAYS I TEND TO RAMBLE WHEN I’M EXCITED. AND I’M ALWAYS EXCITED! ESPECIALLY WHEN I MAKE A NEW FRIEND.”

You nod and bid him goodbye, getting a back-cracking hug, before he rushes off into the fair and you head toward your car. Frisk had texted you earlier to say they were going home with Toriel, so you rode back alone, glad for the break so you could process your night with the personification of optimism that was Papyrus.

--

You got texts from Papyrus every day. Multiple texts in a row, about ten different times a day, and about just about any subject that was on his mind at the time.

“JUST GOT BACK FROM MY MORNING JOG! I HOPE YOU’VE HAD A GOOD MORNING SO FAR!” at 5:30 am.

“IF YOU NEED ANYTHING AT THE STORE TODAY, I WORK AT SMILE MART! MY SHIFT IS FROM SIX TO TWO, SO FEEL FREE TO SWING BY FOR A VISIT.”

“I LOOKED UP BROADWAY FINALLY! THERE’S SO MUCH TO LEARN! IT’S BEAUTIFUL!”

“UNDYNE IS STILL DOING SPEED TRAINING TO TRY AND OUTMATCH YOU. I CAN’T WAIT FOR YOU TWO TO OFFICIALLY MEET ON BETTER TERMS!”

That was the general gist of his messages, just little windows into his day and topics that related back to earlier conversations.

You would answer him between classes, since you were a freshman in the local college, and once you were off around noon, you’d head to Smile Mart and see Papyrus in action.

The first time you actually were able to see him at work, he was meticulously arranging the dairy section, making every gallon of milk have the handle facing the same direction in his white button up, black pants, and bright pink apron.

Hearing you approach, he snapped upward and his face lit up, “HUMAN Y/N! HELLO!” Standing to hi full height and brushing himself down, he posed like a soldier at parade rest, “HOW DO YOU LIKE MY DAPPER WORK ATTIRE?”

You smirk a bit, just in an effort not to laugh out loud at that pose and speech combined, but answer honestly, “You make it look good.”

“THANK YOU! I’M AWARE!” he grinned, then got back to his task, “THANK YOU FOR COMING IN. WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING FOR TODAY?”

That sounded suspiciously like a work script rather than just Papyrus being himself, but you shrug it off, “I don’t need anything in particular at the dorm, so I’m just gonna grab one of those yogurt and fruit smoothie drinks over there when I head out. best breakfast treat.”

He looks at the items you’re pointing at, then nods in approval, “FRUIT AND YOGURT ARE GOOD CHOICES FOR A MORNING BEVERAGE. AND DORMS? ARE YOU PERHAPS A MEMBER OF THE CLERGY?”

You do laugh at that, “No! No, I’m a first semester freshman at the university. You have to spend your first semester on campus if you live more than a certain distance away and unfortunately, my house isn’t in the right range.”

“OH. THAT’S QUITE INTERESTING!” He rubs his chin, “I WAS ACTUALLY CONSIDERING GOING TO THE COLLEGE MYSELF, BUT SANS ISN’T EXACTLY A FAN OF IT.”

“Is that the brother you told me about at the fair? The one who sleeps?” Papyrus had mentioned he had a brother who was lazy and slept a lot, but not the name.

“YES. HE NAPS ALL NIGHT AND FREQUENTLY DURING THE DAY ALSO!”

You grin as he waggles his brows. He had noticed how you didn’t like his wording when he’d said the same line about “napping all night” at the fair, and now he teases you with it. “Still called sleeping, Pap.”

He chuckles good naturedly and shrugs, “WHATEVER IT’S CALLED, THAT’S WHAT SANS DOES. SLEEP, EAT, AND EMIT SLIME.”

“He emits slime?”

“SOMETIMES. FRISK SAYS THAT IS ACTUALLY CALLED DROOL UP HERE. NOW I’M WONDERING IF MY BROTHER IS RELATED TO DOGS BECAUSE THEY’RE THE ONLY ONES I’VE SEEN WHO DROOL QUITE AS MUCH AS HE DOES WHILE SNORING.”

The visits become routine after that first one. When you get a break during his shift, you just go to the store and buy some kind of single serving drink. Yeah, you wish they were in cardboard cartons or glass instead, but all your bottles do go into your recycling bucket at your dorm. It’s more an excuse to talk to Papyrus, anyway.

He asks more about the university, and when you ask him what he’d major in if he did attend, he has a very good answer already, “SPORTS MEDICINE! I’M A VERY GOOD HEALER NATURALLY, AND I LOVE ATHLETICS OF ALL SORTS, SO WHY NOT COMBINE MY TWO PROCLIVITIES INTO ONE CAREER PATH? UNDYNE DOESN’T NEED ME ANYONE ELSE IN THE GUARD NOW THAT WE’RE UP HERE, AND I WANT TO BE HELPFUL.” He scratched his chin a bit before adding to the end, “WELL, MORE HELPFUL THAN I AM CURRENTLY ANYWAY.”

That’s a great idea, you think, and you encourage him to go for it. After all, he’s got so much energy, you’re sure any course of study will be a breeze.

It’s kind of surprising when, a few weeks later, he texts you excitedly, “I GOT MY ACCEPTANCE LETTER! NEXT SEMESTER WE’RE GOING TO BE CLASSMATES! ONCE IT’S TIME, LET’S CHOOSE OUR SCHEDULES TOGETHER!”

Wow, he really does go for what he wants, doesn’t he?

--

Great was definitely the least you could say about Papyrus by the time you two were meeting up on the first day of the semester.

He had already invited you over to his house several times, Frisk had dragged you along on lots of outings with the skeleton, and you had braved a meeting with Undyne and her adorable wife, Alphys, as part of a celebration for Papyrus’ acceptance into college.

So when his unique figure came striding up the sidewalks on campus, you immediately ran to meet him and got scooped into a twirling hug with your mutual giggles echoing off the old gothic revival buildings around the ovular clearing.

“Papyrus!”

“Y/N!”

As you were set down, you beamed up at him, “I’m so glad I didn’t start my gen ed until now. We have all semester together.”

“I KNOW! SURE, I HAVE TO TAKE THAT ONE NUTRITION CLASS WHILE YOU’VE GOT CHEMISTRY, BUT OTHER THAN THAT!” He’s bouncing on his heels and utterly pleased, and noticing his bouncing is what draws your eyes to the shorter figure next to him.

Another skeleton, about your height and blinking at you with white lights in his large, round sockets, stood next to Papyrus and waved lazily at you, “heya.”

“Oh my gosh, you must be Sans!” you were excited to finally meet Papy’s brother. “I dunno how it took this long for us to end up in the same place but I’m so glad to meet you!” You offer your hand and it gets taken with a long “pffffffffffffffffft” sound.

“SANS! I TOLD YOU NOT TO BRING THAT TODAY!” Papyrus sounds equal parts furious and embarrassed, as the bright orange glowing on his cheekbones betrays.

“had to, bro. can’t skip the classic gags,” Sans takes his hand back, revealing a small red whoopie cushion in it.

You stare, surprised, “Oh my gosh? I didn’t know anybody even used oldies like that anymore. Or did actual harmless pranks like that. Consider me impressed; you’ve got better taste in humor than most of MeTube.”

That seems to shock the smaller skeleton before you, making him lower his hand slowly. He was wearing a blue hoodie jacket over a white shirt with small stains on the chest, and black basketball shorts with white socks and pink house shoes. “uh. thanks.”

“DON’T ENCOURAGE HIM,” Papyrus huffed, “HE’LL START PUNNING AND THEN WE’LL BE HERE ALL DAY.” He pulled you forward, away from Sans, and waved at his brother, “HAVE A GOOD DAY DOING WHATEVER ODD JOBS YOU HAVE TODAY, BROTHER! I WILL BE ENJOYING MY TIME LEARNING WITH MY BEST FRIEND!”

“I thought Undyne was your best friend?” you say as he speeds away from a perplexed looking Sans, who you wave to with a helpless expression.

“SHE’S MY BEST FRIEND, TOO. YOU CAN HAVE AS MANY BEST FRIENDS AS YOU LIKE!”

--

Classes go smoothly, but you begin to notice….

Well, you see Sans pretty much everywhere.

Leaving your one class you don’t have with Papyrus, you see him snoozing on a bench outside.

While leaving your part time job sorting all the incoming books for the library on campus, there he is again, at one of the computers looking up jokes.

Even while you’re out getting a haircut, you find him running a little hotdog cart. Finally, you have to ask him what he’s doing.

“Heya, Sans,” you go up to the stand, which is currently empty. “Been seeing you around a lot.”

“why didn’t ya say hi, then, kiddo? my brother sings your praises daily, wouldn’t have minded saying hello.” He’s just got a green apron on over his outfit from before, and you smile.

“I don’t wanna intrude. Just thought I’d ask what was up, y’know? Normally it’s just students at the library. How’d you even get in the computer without a student id?” That had been bothering you for a bit.

“oh, easy. I’m faculty.”

Your brain shorted for a moment, “You…are?”

“yep,” he chuckled, waving you to a seat next to his cart. “turns out a monster phd converts pretty well to a human one. Just consulting with the physics department right now, but once the political climate settles some more, who knows?”

Something bubbles up to the front of your mind, “Oh. Oh! Papyrus said you liked physics once. I guess it’s more of a passion for you than he let on.”

“heh, used to be. might be again. dunno yet.” He looks across the street, away from you. “anyhow, frisk and pap both seem to think you’re the bees’ knees.”

You tilt your head a bit, but then see the little buzzing insects around a flowerbox on the other side of the street. “Oh! hahah, good spot. Yeah, I’m pretty lucky two really cool people decided I’m interesting enough to look after.”

Sans hummed as you both watched the bees, “yeah, they’re both kinda neat folks. My bro’s the coolest though. biased, I know, but it’s true.”

“I can’t argue there,” you feel happy thinking about Papyrus, “He’s taken to school like a fish to water. I really love finally having a friend who’s so positive. Not that my roommate’s not cool, but she’s as tired as I am usually.”

“you got a roomie?” he hums, “then why spend time with my bro? surely you’ve got more in common with her?”

“Hah!” you actually laughed. “I’m a linguistics major, Sans. She’s a botanist. Her side of the room is covered in so many plants I have to take sinus medication 24/7. Nah, she’s a good person but we have nothing in common other than living space and shared love for cheesy family-friendly rom-coms.”

You had gotten so involved with watching a particular bee rolling around a tulip that you didn’t notice when Sans faced you again. “so if she decided to get into a fight, you wouldn’t back her up?”

“Oh, no, I’d pull her out and tell her off for fighting. But she’s always in the greenhouses or labs, so I doubt she’d find anybody to fight with even if she wanted to. More likely to squeak like a dog toy and hide, if we’re being totally honest,” you turn to Sans smiling, but his expression makes you freeze.

His lights were out and the haunting blankness of his huge sockets made you shudder.

“kid, you better be telling the truth. My brother’s the best, but people take advantage of his kindness. If you hurt him, you’re gonna have a bad time.”

Nope, you were not going to stand for that. Getting up, you bolted, and as soon as you made it back to your dorm, you texted Papyrus.

You: Papyrus, we need to talk about your brother.

Papy: WHAT HAS SANS DONE NOW? YOU TWO HAVE BARELY EVEN MET!

You: We talked today and he threatened me.

It takes more than two seconds for an answer. Clearly you’d managed to rattle Papyrus (heh).

Papy: TELL ME EVERYTHING.

You explain yourself, how you kept seeing Sans around when Papyrus wasn’t there, and the incident after your haircut today.

Papyrus doesn’t answer in text, and after a moment or two you get a call from him.

“Papyrus-“

“I AM MORE SORRY THAN WORDS CAN SAY FOR WHAT MY BROTHER DID TODAY.” His voice was hard and serious, something you’d never heard before. “I DON’T BLAME YOU IF YOU’D RATHER NOT TALK ANYMORE AFTER THIS, BUT I ASSURE YOU I WILL HAVE A SERIOUS DISCUSSION WITH HIM ABOUT WHAT HE DID. APPARENTLY, FROM WHAT I GATHER, HE DID THE SAME THING TO FRISK.”

He’d threatened a child?! Not just any child either, your COUSIN! Who saved his people from captivity! You were about to ask about that when Papyrus continued. “FRISK SAYS IT WAS JUSTIFIED, BUT I’M NOT SURE HOW. BUT YOU? YOU HAVE NEVER HARMED ME, NOR ANYONE ELSE, AND HAVE DONE NOTHING TO DESERVE IT. SO, NOW THAT I’VE SAID MY PIECE, WHAT DO YOU THINK?”

You have to turn your brain back on to think for a moment. Papyrus was very dear to you, he was sweet and lifted your spirits no matter what. Still, with a scary protective brother, you weren’t sure if you wanted to be near him anymore.

“Papyrus, I like you. You’re my best friend. But I can’t feel safe around Sans and I’m kind of scared to come to your house ever again. We still have classes together, but I think if we’re going to be friends still, we can only meet out in public or at my place.” Even saying that makes you nervous. Nobody’s ever done this before, threatening you just out of nowhere.

“THAT’S REASONABLE. I CAN HEAR HOW SCARED YOU ARE, Y/N, AND I’M….WELL, INCREDIBLY ASHAMED TO HAVE BEEN PART OF WHY YOU’RE FEELING THAT WAY. THIS WILL NOT GO UNSEEN TO, I SWEAR IT!”

Tears were starting to leak out of your eyes at this point, your adrenaline leaving you tired and scared, but you smile, “I have faith in you, Papyrus. Just…I’m just scared now. I’m gonna try to calm down and I’ll see you at school tomorrow.”

“YES, THAT IS A GOOD PLAN. TRY TO BE KIND TO YOURSELF UNTIL I CAN BE KIND TO YOU INSTEAD…” There was silence, and then a very soft, worried, “I love you.”

That was enough to get you sobbing, “I love you, too. Be safe.” You had to hang up now, and you curled up under your covers to hide from the world.

--

As soon as he hung up the phone, Papyrus quickly wiped his sockets. He, too, was crying at the thought of his dear friend, who he loved fiercely, being terrified and menaced by HIS BROTHER of all people. But he was going to fix this.

Yes, he’d been far too late to fix what happened with Frisk, and Frisk themselves didn’t seem too upset by it, but YOU certainly were. He could feel it in the way you’d spoken, how very close he’d been to losing his best friend. He still might lose them.

But he’s going to make the effort to try not to.

Taking several deep breaths, Papyrus left his room and went down the stairs. Sans was on the couch as he’d expected, flipping channels on their TV.

“hey bro, what’s up?” Sans had his normal expression, and it made Papyrus furious.

“BROTHER. I KNOW WHAT YOU DID.”

Sitting up, Sans looks confused, “what do you mean?”

Papyrus took another breath, feeling his ribs fill to capacity with the cooling air that helped calm him, “SANS, I JUST GOT SEVERAL VERY FRIGHTENED TEXTS FROM Y/N, AND THEY WERE ABOUT YOU.”

Ah, there, the permanent smile on Sans’ face drooped significantly, “oh.”

“YES, OH.” Rubbing his sockets, as they had started burning like he was going to cry again, Papyrus asked, “DID YOU EVEN THINK ABOUT WHAT THIS WOULD DO TO ME BEFORE YOU THREATENED THEM? DO YOU EVER CONSIDER HOW THIS COULD HAVE MADE THEM SO FRIGHTENED THAT THEY NEVER SPOKE TO ME AGAIN? OR IS THAT WHAT YOU WANTED? DO YOU WANT ME TO BE ALONE FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE, SANS?”

“n-no, no that’s…I don’t want you lonely, paps, I just want you to be safe.” Sans’ voice and eyelights were both small and shaky. Good, he realized how serious this was.

“I KNOW YOU DID THIS TO FRISK, TOO, AND I’M JUST…SANS, YOU CAN’T THREATEN PEOPLE WHO HAVE DONE NOTHING WRONG!” He wanted to move, to do something dramatic, but Papyrus just couldn’t with the weight of his frustration and disappointment. “I LOVE THEM BOTH, AND YOU…YOU DON’T SEEM TO CARE WHAT YOU BREAK ON YOUR WAY TO WHAT YOU CONSIDER MY SAFETY. I’M AN ADULT, SANS, NO STRIPES ANYWHERE, AND I’D LIKE YOU TO TREAT ME LIKE ONE. I KNOW I’M OPTIMISTIC, I KNOW I’M SILLY, BUT THAT’S HOW I LIKE TO BE. I LIKE BEING A GOOD INFLUENCE FOR PEOPLE, AND IF THAT MEANS SOMETIMES I GET MY HEART BROKEN, THEN I LEARN, DON’T I?”

Sans was just staring at him, but he finally found his voice, “but paps, they aren’t like other folks. They’re humans, they have a lot more power and-“

“I KNOW THAT.”

Closing his mouth that had opened to argue, Sans listened. “SANS, DO YOU THINK I WASN’T SCARED WHEN FRISK CAME? I WAS TERRIFIED! I KNEW THEY COULD DUST US BOTH WITH A MOVE, BUT I HAD TO AT LEAST MAKE THE EFFORT TO SHOW THEM THAT WASN’T WHAT HAD TO HAPPEN. I WANTED TO CAPTURE THEM, YES, BECAUSE THAT WOULD HAVE MADE UNDYNE AND EVERYONE ELSE SO PLEASED WITH ME, GIVEN ME MORE OPPORTUNITES TO MAKE THE FRIENDS I WANTED. BUT…THEY LIKED ME.” Papyrus was at a loss. “THEY PLAYED ALONG WITH MY ACT AND SEEMED HAPPY WITH IT. SO I CHANGED MY MIND. I DIDN’T FORGET WHAT THEY COULD DO, WHICH IS WHY I TRIED TO GET UNDYNE TO BE FRIENDS WITH THEM, TOO. I DIDN’T WANT HER TO GET HURT EITHER, OR FOR HER TO HURT FRISK.”

Oh the tears were back and Papyrus scrubbed them away angrily, “BUT NOW I’M WONDERING IF I SUCCEEDED IN SPITE OF YOU! I’M WONDERING IF YOU DIDN’T THREATEN EVERY PERSON I’VE EVER TRIED TO BEFRIEND JUST OUT OF SOME TWISTED SENSE OF PROTECTION!”

Sans just looked at his hands, bones looking ashen as Papyrus tried to hold back his sobs. Had…had he been hurting Papyrus more than helping him all this time? Yeah, Frisk had posed a threat but the kid had made good. Really good, if he had to be honest. And he had seen nothing to really make Y/n any more dangerous than they were. And now Papyrus was crying.

“SANS, I DON’T BLAME YOU FOR BEING AFRAID OF WHAT HUMANS CAN DO TO US, BUT I AM DISAPPOINTED THAT YOU DON’T TRUST ME ENOUGH TO MAKE MY OWN DECISIONS ABOUT FRIENDS. IT HURTS, AND…AND EVEN THOUGH I’M SURE YOU DID IT OUT OF LOVE FOR ME I JUST CAN’T FORGIVE YOU FOR THAT RIGHT NOW,” sniffling a little, Papyrus couldn’t even look at his brother. “I’M GOING TO STAY WITH UNDYNE FOR A FEW DAYS. I HOPE YOU CAN LEARN HOW TO…WELL, NOT DO THIS AGAIN. THINK ABOUT THE CONSEQUENCES MORE. SOMETHING.”

Escaping back up the stairs, Papyrus quickly packed three days’ worth of clothes and essentials, then ran out the door. He just couldn’t believe his older brother had betrayed his trust like this.

--

It was pretty awkward with you and Papyrus after that.

You tried to talk like normal, but he was sad, and you were scared.

Two months after the incident, you got sick of it. “Papy, let’s go to Bungle Land.”

“OH?” he perked a little, “WE HAVEN’T BEEN FOR A LONG TIME. OKAY.”

Grinning, you took his hand and ran to your car, giving him the option to drive if he wanted. He had his license, but just hadn’t gotten around to buying the perfect car for him. But he refused, wanting to save driving for his own dream car, so you let him move the passenger seat back as far as he liked while you drove to the local theme park.

And you had fun. Papyrus was an adrenaline junkie and took you on every ride, while you were a game shark, trying your hand at the carnival games and loving the useless and low quality plushies you won from them. You both had a lovely collection of little birds, though Papyrus had exchanged five of his for a larger plush of a super hero, more to his tastes, from this trip alone. Thank stars for your yearly pass, and the lovely guest vouchers that came with it.

Finally, as the sun was going down and you were hungry, Papyrus guided you toward one of the stands before a familiar voice made your heart freeze, “hey you two. Pretzels and lemonade?”

Papyrus’ expression soured, “SANS, DO YOU REALLY THINK THIS IS THE TIME FOR ONE OF YOUR ODD JOBS? WE WERE HAVING FUN.” He’d gotten an apology from Sans a while back now, and a Promise not to repeat his blunder, but he still wasn’t sure of Sans’ intentions for Y/n.

“I really didn’t think you’d be here today, pap, swear on my bones,” Sans looked exhausted and held up his hands. “but tell me what you want and I’ll make it while I do something I’ve been meaning to.”

You just say you want a pepperoni pretzel and a cherry lemonade, and Papyrus goes for a normal pretzel with a blue raspberry lemonade, but you’re nervous. The skeleton had threatened you, after all, even if your fear of him had mostly shifted to annoyance at his cheek in doing so.

Getting your food, Sans said softly, “I know I’m nobody’s favorite person right now, so I’ll make it short. I realized I’ve been overbearing, stepped over a lot of lines, and need to work on myself. I’m really sorry, y/n, for acting like you were going to hurt papyrus when I don’t even know you. it was wrong, and I’m going to try and see a therapist to get a hold on my…paranoia.”

That…was honestly one of the best and most sincere apologies you’d ever had. You can’t help smiling, and you can almost feel the pride radiating off Papyrus for his brother. “Okay, Sans. That was a proper apology, and you haven’t done any stalking that I’ve noticed so…apology accepted. I hope your therapy goes well.”

He looks so relieved, shoulders sagging noticeably, but his smile turns more genuine and he nods, “okie dokie. Go have fun, and I’ll see you at home, paps.”

“YES YOU WILL! YOU’RE GETTING THE IMPROVED VERSION OF SPAGHETTI TONIGHT FOR THAT!” It’s heartwarming to hear the excitement in his voice, and the brighter smile on his face, “YOU DID A GOOD THING! BYE, SANS!”

“Bye, Sans,” you add, and he waves you both off. Even if he was the one who finally apologized, you felt a weight off of yourself as well, and his gaze no longer made you feel like demons were on your back.

[enchantedisabella]

Why Annabeth is not Hermione 2.0

I’ve been wanting to write this post for a long time, because so many people compare Annabeth Chase to Hermione Granger when they’re really nothing alike. Yes, they’re both the smart, female best friends of the main protagonists, but that doesn’t make their personalities identical. Here are my reasons why.

Annabeth has ADHD and dyslexia and is unfocused at times. Hermione has no disorders we know about and is attentive in class. I understand that Percabeth in high school is a very popular headcanon among the pjo fandom, and Annabeth is indubitably ridiculously clever, but she is NOT going to be raising her hands every second of every day in class and she definitely won’t pass every single subject without even trying. I’d be very surprised if she could stay focused for a full lesson. Honestly, I’d expect her to be labelled as even more of a ‘troubled kid’ than Percy, because Percy has spent years in mortal school while Annabeth hasn’t. It would be Annabeth, not Percy, being the one desperately trying to pay attention but the first to lose focus halfway through. Hermione, as we all know, is the exact opposite, and hates when people disrupt classes.

Hermione is a rule-follower at heart. Annabeth is not. We all remember that time when Hermione Badass Granger kept a woman in a jar for a year, right? However, we also remember the numerous times she’s threatened to report Harry and Ron for breaking the rules- mainly in the earlier books, when their friendship isn’t as developed, but she still acts scandalised whenever rule-breaking is brought up. Hermione will break the rules, because she’s a Gryffindor at heart and she will do anything to protect her friends (trap Rita Skeeter in a jar, report the Firebolt to McGonagall because it might have been cursed), but that doesn’t mean she necessarily enjoys it. Annabeth is a different story altogether. In fanon, it’s usually her who is expected to restrain Percy from doing something stupid (like Hermione and Harry’s canon friendship), but in actual pjo canon, it’s the other way around. Annabeth Chase is smart and clever but she’s also prideful, impulsive, and downright reckless, while Hermione is most definitely not. Annabeth will use any excuse to break the rules and sees no point in regulations if they don’t make any sense, and thinks that authority figures should earn her respect. Hermione basically hero-worships all authority figures unless they’re really bad (eg. Snape and Umbridge). It takes a lot for her to rebel against someone in a higher position than her, and she will willingly give teachers her respect even if they haven’t earned it yet.

Hermione is book smart. Annabeth is street smart. I’m not saying that Annabeth doesn’t like to read, because it’s clearly stated in The Lightning Thief or Sea of Monsters (I can’t remember which) that Annabeth reads so much that Percy forgot that she also had dyslexia. However, in school aus, Annabeth would probably not perform that well on tests and she would absolutely not join spelling bees and win, or have we as a fandom collectively forgotten that in SoM, Percy said that Annabeth could have spent the whole night trying to spell ‘cyclopes’ due to the fact that she kept messing up the letters? And if I hear any reasons like ‘they removed her dyslexia because it didn’t fit their fanfiction, and there’s no need to be so pressed about it’, that’s very fucking ableist, for one, and defeats the whole purpose of Rick Riordan (bless him) making the book’s protagonists have ADHD and dyslexia for his son. Also, it says a lot about fans trying to make Annabeth into Hermione 2.0 when she’s very much not, and then fooling themselves into thinking that the girls’ personalities are carbon copies of each other. Hermione is repeatedly described as the brightest witch of her age- she’s deductive, rational and calculated. She has no problem paying close attention to detail. She spurts out so much information in the books that she has been repeatedly compared to ‘swallowing the textbook’, courtesy of Ron. I can’t even imagine how much she would have to memorise to be compared to that. Annabeth would not be capable of that, nor would she even want to be. She would not see the point in memorising facts, because Annabeth Chase learns things by doing, and Hermione Granger learns things from books. In the Philosopher’s Stone, Hermione is distraught at their first flying lesson because she can’t learn it from a book first. You know who wouldn’t be? Hands-on, street smart, capable Annabeth.

Annabeth values knowledge more than Hermione does. Some of you may not understand why this is, but Annabeth is a daughter of Athena and Hermione is a Gryffindor. They have very different learning strategies and if they ever met, they’d be nothing alike and probably wouldn’t even see eye to eye. Hermione canonically scoffs at ‘books and cleverness!’ both in the movies and the books of the Philosopher’s Stone. Hermione is Sorted into Gryffindor because she values bravery over everything else- even knowledge. Annabeth has always put knowledge first. That’s not to say that Annabeth Who-Took-A-Knife-For-Percy Chase isn’t brave, but she values knowledge above else and she’s willing to fight dirty to get it (as is Hermione, but that’s beside the point). It’s understandable that Annabeth would put knowledge above bravery, because of her parentage. Hermione’s choice is also understandable, given the circumstances, and it’s noteworthy that she repeatedly chooses friendship over cleverness in the series just because she knows its importance. Just to reiterate: the girls are different people. Don’t put them as madly competing in your Hogwarts x Camp Half-Blood fanfictions. Do you honestly think Annabeth would compete with Hermione for the best grades in History of Magic, or that Hermione would ever try her hand at sword-fighting and archery? I don’t think so. This might seem like it’s contrasting my point, but Annabeth probably isn’t going to be interested in most of the lessons while they’re taking notes in a classroom without any hands-on work. She doesn’t function like that. She would do well in Charms or Transfiguration and positively shine in Quidditch, not History of Magic or Muggle Studies or Divination. She values knowledge she deems useful, and the only way for knowledge to be deemed useful by her standards is if she used what she’s learnt in practical spells and not note-taking.

Hermione has flexible moral principles. Annabeth’s are set in stone. Hermione is a very complex character. She repeatedly chastises Harry and Ron for breaking school rules on a daily basis, but it was her idea to go through with the Polyjuice Potion in CoS, her decision to keep Rita Skeeter in a jar, her decision to use a Time-Turner to get to all her classes on time. (Well, she also had to appeal to Cornelius Fudge through McGonagall, but it was her idea.) Hermione’s moral code is flexible, to say the least. She won’t break it for mundane days, but will for special occasions, and that’s because she knows that desperate times call for desperate measures. None of her moral code is written in stone. There is always a point where she justifies her behaviour by decreeing that the situation needs it. There is no line that she isn’t willing to cross depending on how bad the situation is. Hermione has a justifiable reason for breaking rules, and though she doesn’t enjoy it, like I said earlier, she will do it of her own accord if the situation calls for it. She has no point where she says to herself, ‘Okay, this is one rule that I’m not going to break no matter what.’ This girl, this brilliant, ruthless girl, is willing to cross every single line if she absolutely must, and that is why she is not at all like Annabeth Chase. Annabeth Chase, whose principles are set in stone. Annabeth Chase, who is prideful and stubborn and who does not compromise her values no matter what. Annabeth is not ruthless; Annabeth is not cruel. She is the embodiment of- not exactly goodness, but fairness and equality. She gives everyone what they deserve. She literally told a Sphinx off for not giving riddles that make you think, but instead asking questions that you just need a certain amount of knowledge of facts to answer. Let that sink in, because it’s the most perfect example I have. Hermione Granger would have answered them quick as a flash and moved on, because it’s an easy way out, she knows all the answers anyway, and she’d probably treat the Sphinx like an authority figure whose test she has to pass, not change. Annabeth Chase, instead, gets offended and demands riddles that make you think because she will not compromise her principles for anyone or anything, and places so much faith in her intelligence (which is why she values it so much) that even if the questions will be harder, she thinks that it’s downright insulting that they aren’t already. She takes it as an insult to her intelligence. Hermione is flexible; Annabeth is hard as stone.

Annabeth has the makings of a hero; Hermione has the makings of a villain. Sure, Hermione started SPEW and cares for the welfare of creatures and is portrayed as sensitive time and time again, but if she believes that what she is doing is right, she will use wrong methods to get to her goal. After all, when the greater good is at stake, who wouldn’t use less morally superior methods to get to it faster? What’s the murder of a few people who deserved it- maybe Bellatrix or Umbridge- when a greater number of lives can be saved? Hermione is unnervingly logical and although she is sensitive, she is not weak. She might feel pity for Sirius’s experience in Azkaban, because he’s ‘good’, in her mind, but would she feel for Bellatrix, who ‘deserved’ it? And of course Bellatrix did deserve it, but Hermione conveniently ignores that they went through the same experience because only Sirius deserves her pity, because he’s good. Hermione wouldn’t sacrifice Sirius for the greater good, but she would sacrifice Bellatrix, and Annabeth wouldn’t, because as I’ve said, Annabeth does not have a flexible moral code. Annabeth would not stand by and sacrifice Bellatrix, because she is still a person in Annabeth’s eyes, but Hermione would, because there is no line she wouldn’t cross. As long as Hermione thinks that what she’s doing is right, she would condone any action to achieve her goal. I think we all know enough about history to know that that is terrifying as fuck. Hermione, under different circumstances, could be a villain; Annabeth would be the hero and do the right thing no matter what.

These two girls are so inherently, intrinsically different that I have trouble wondering why anyone would think that they were anything alike just because they’re smart and friends with the protagonist. There are probably more points, but I’m tired and it’s a school day and I can’t think of anything more to add on. Anyway, thanks for reading this and I hope nobody makes the stupid, stupid mistake of saying that they are in any way similar after reading this, because I could honestly relate Annabeth more to Ron than I could to Hermione.

[starscheme]

Change My World

Chapter Three: Other Mermaids?

A couple hours had gone by since they entered the forest. Both Steven and Spinel had been silent, anxiously waiting for something awful to happen, but it seemed for now, they weren't being pursued. Connie’s plan to throw off the townspeople must have worked well enough to give them a good head start. Besides, it was like she said, who would think a mermaid would want to trek through the forest rather travel near the ocean?

"How are you feeling?" Asked Steven finally, leaning over a bit to try and see her face as he pushed her along the narrow dirt path.

Spinel had been spending these last couple of hours trying to wrack her brain for some explanation. There had to be some other reason Steven was doing this. He was an enemy to his people now. He couldn't be doing this for nothing. No human did something for nothing. That much she was sure of.

"...you know..." she began; disregarding his questions altogether, "I don't grant wishes or anything. That's a myth."

"Oh? I bet Connie would be interested in knowing that. It's a shame she didn't get to speak with you more. She had a lot of questions about mermaids..." Steven replied. He still hoped he and Connie would see one another again. She would be happy to ask Spinel everything she had been curious about her entire life.

"Hey, she once mentioned that each mermaid has one special skill or purpose. Is that true?"

Spinel appeared flummoxed now. So he wasn't after wishes either? Was he really like this, or just really good at playing dumb?

"...yeah, that's true."

Steven beamed, "so what's yours?"

Spinel blushed and cleared her throat, "I'd rather not say."

"Oh..." a clearly disappointed Steven sighed.

Glancing back, Spinel could see how dejected he looked and quickly turned her gaze away. Everything showed on his face and Spinel was a little confused as to why she felt bad for not giving him an answer.

"...one of my old friends, her trait was creation. She could create weapons, tools, and small structures."

His mood sprung back at once. "That's amazing!"

Spinel smirked slightly, "yeah. She made my weapon...and everyone else's. She really enjoys making new things, but it takes a lot of energy. Sometimes she makes herself sick."

"She sounds like a stubborn person, but I'd like to meet her," Steven mused. "Do you have a lot of friends back home?"

Spinel had enjoyed reminiscing about her friend, but Stevens question had brought her right back to reality. The reality that reminded her of how awful humans were.

"I have...a handful of friends back home. There used to be a lot more...before the war..."

Steven felt as though he'd stepped on a land mine. He had nearly forgotten about the war. After all, it happened long before he was born and had been over for thousands of years. Suddenly, he stopped walking when a thought occurred to him.

"Wait-you were a part of that war?!"

"...well, not as much as the others were...but, yes." She didn't want to say that her trait was next to useless in a fight.

"But...then that would make you..." Steven started, attempting to do the math in his head.

"I'm over six thousand years old." Spinel answered before he could finish.

Steven was completely thrown. He knew Mermaids lived long lives, but at most, he was thinking a few hundred years.

He looked down and Spinel and almost laughed at the prospect of her being thousands of years old.

"Well, you look great for someone your age." He joked, continuing to push her chair through the trees.

"Six thousand is actually pretty young for my kind..." she added with a pout, thinking Steven perceived her as some old lady now.

"Heh, well that must be why you're so pretty."

Spinel felt her cheeks burn once again. He was so loose with his compliments. Did he not feel foolish saying things like that? A human finding a mermaid beautiful or anything near it was strange. Even his friend Connie had complimented her like that. "You're weird."

"So I've been told," Steven chuckled.

Even though they were basically on the run for their lives, Steven couldn't help but find this pleasant. At least Spinel was speaking to him now and though she often seemed to be angry with him, there were moments when her eyes softened and it warmed his heart.

After walking for hours, Steven tried to find a place where they could rest a moment. The forest was dense, but he had to be doubly cautious. Though he found a place for them to hide, it happened to be behind several berry bushes, ones that were covered in large, sharp thorns.

"This is perfect. We can make camp here." Steven announced.

Spinel gawked at the thorns and once again thought there was something wrong with him. "You can't be serious, how are we gonna get through—Hey!" Before she could continue, Steven had already scooped her up from the chair, holding her high enough that she wouldn't touch the thorns.

"H-hey, wait a second, you're gonna get all cut up! Don't just—"

"—if you don't stop yelling, someone is going to hear you," Steven insisted as he pushed through the thorny bushes, doing his best to keep Spinel out of harm’s way. Though he winced a bit as the thorns snagged at his clothes and slit his skin, it wasn't as bad as he thought it would be. Once he made it through the first patch of bushes, there was a small clearing in the middle. "See? It's perfect. And it's like we have a little barrier around us. Hopefully that will keep the animals away." Steven placed Spinel down onto the grass. "Now, just wait here. I'll go get our things and look for some water. ...I guess I'll also need to get some firewood. Huh, I wonder if I can actually manage to start a fire without matches," he joked before taking a step to head back through the bushes.

Steven’s words repeated in her head. Wait here? "NO!" She screamed out, apparently alarming a few birds that were nestled up in the trees around them.

Steven nearly jumped, turning back to Spinel. "Wha...are you okay?"

Spinel quickly turned her head and hugged her tail as she sat against the grass.

"I-I'm fine. Just hurry and-and try not to get too cut up."

Clearly she was lying, but he did have to get firewood and water before it got too dark to see. "I'll be back as soon as I can. ...just...don't worry, okay?" Steven reassured her before reluctantly making his way back through the bushes.

Spinel glanced in the direction where Steven had wandered off and she started to feel herself begin to tremble.

"Stop it..." she whispered to herself, hugging her tail tighter as she closed her eyes. Rocking herself lightly, Spinel waiting in silence, the only sound around her was her heavy breathing as she tried to calm herself down. The silence of the forest was only making it worse.

How long was this going to take? How long was she going to have to wait here alone? Even when she was being held Captive on that ship, she was never alone. Suddenly, she felt a cold hand graze her cheek and a distorted voice whispering, "Why don't we play a game?"

With a start, Spinel gasped and snapped her head up, expecting to see someone there, but was met with only the dense Forest around her. She sighed, covering her face in her hands, doing her best to block out the memories, luckily for her, that's when Steven came pushing through the bushes once again. How much time had gone by? He was holding up the wheelchair with one hand, all of their supplies in its seat, and in the other hand, he appeared to have found some water that he stored in the only empty container they had.

"Sorry, it took a while to find some water," he explained as he set everything down. He was so fixated on keeping everything from falling, he didn't notice Spinels expression right away, but now that he got a better look...

"What happened?!" Steven exclaimed in a panic, quickly dropping to his knees to inspect her before looking around them. She looked terrified. Had someone come while he was away?

Spinel wasn't fully aware of the face she had been making, but when she saw Steven there, she just stared at him in stunned silence.

"I...I'm fine," she answered finally. "You should be more worried about yourself," Spinel insisted once she saw his torn shirt and the cuts along his skin.

Steven was not deflected by her concern, but so long they weren't in immediate danger, he decided not to press her about it. He knew she had many reasons to be closed off, he just hoped that soon she would be able to trust him.

"This is fine. I'm a fast healer," he replied, reaching over and pulling the water jug towards her.

"So...I don't know if you can just drink it, or if you need to just uh...pour it on you, but this was the best I could do for now." He finished awkwardly.

Spinel still felt a little shaken, but Steven was trying so hard, she felt bad for being so rude. “…Thank you,” she said with a sincere smile.

Steven’s heart jumped lightly when he saw the warm, soft expression in her eyes. She really was beautiful. Clearing his throat, he got to his feet, “Y-you’re welcome. I should uh…see if I can start a fire.” He was actually worried that he wouldn’t be able to start one. He’d never started one without any matches and he didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of Spinel. After all, he promised to save her and how much faith would she have in a guy that couldn’t even start a fire?

Spinel drank some of the water as she watched Steven gather the firewood he had collected. She knew there a lot of terrible humans, but how many of them were like Steven? He must have been the only one. He had to be. “…Well if you can’t start one, I definitely can’t,” Spinel tried to joke.

Steven laughed as he piled up the wood, “I guess there aren’t many fires in the ocean, huh?”

“Not so much,” Spinel replied, giggling a bit despite her attempt to keep her guard up.

Steven was once again taken aback. His grin widened. Maybe she was warming up a little sooner than he thought. The atmosphere felt much lighter and even though it took Steven more tries than he would have liked, he was finally able to start the fire just in time for the sun to go down.

“Well, what do you know, looks like I can start a fire. …after…seven or eight attempts….” He trailed off, taking the blanket and Connie’s book from the supplies they had. He handed the blanket to Spinel and sat in front of the fire with Connie’s book. Not only was it an old book about mermaids, (that Connie had no doubt gotten at some antique store,) but Connie had stuffed a lot of notes inside of it, most of which she had clearly written in a hurry. Steven smiled sadly. He could just imagine his friend frantically trying to write down everything she knew that might help them. She did so much for them in such a short time. Slowly flipping through Connie’s notes, he saw the map that Connie mentioned. It was pretty messily drawn and the notes around it didn’t make much sense. She must have only written down some key words. Steven read them aloud, hoping that would help him make sense of it. “Underground. Capital. Experimental. Peridot. …I’m not sure how these go together.”

“Did you say…Peridot?” Spinel asked, scooting herself a little closer to Steven, trying to take a peek at the book.

Steven lowered the book and closed the distance between them. It was harder for Spinel to move on the ground, so he wanted to make it easier if he could. “Yeah, in these notes that Connie wrote down. She said the woman that might be able to help us is a couple of towns over. She drew this map, but she doesn’t mention a name, just these random words around the map.”

“Peridot IS a name!” Spinel exclaimed with an excited smile. “Does it mention her anywhere else?!”

Steven felt a little pressured now, thumbing through Connie’s notes as quickly as he could. “uuuuh…oh! Right here!” He pulled out a piece of paper that was surely crumpled up before, but had been smoothed out. Again, it was a bunch words that didn’t seem to connect. Once again, he read them aloud, this time for Spinel who was practically digging her fingers into his arm in anticipation. “Peridot. Lost. Capital. Off Color. Legend. Lapis.”

Spinel stared at the notes, nearly hugging Steven’s arm now. Her heart was racing. After all these years, she didn’t think she would hear those names ever again. Peridot could have been a mistake, but when she heard the name Lapis in there too, there wasn’t any doubt.

“They could still be alive…” Spinel whispered.

“What?”

“My friends! Peridot and Lapis Lazuli! Those names are names of Mermaids that disappeared a long time ago! Your friend can’t be more than, what, 15 years old?! If she heard about them in her lifetime, there’s a chance that they’re still alive!”

This was the first time that Steven had seen Spinel so genuinely happy and hopeful. “Well, Peridot’s name was written on that map that Connie drew down. Maybe that means we can find more information about her when we find that mystery woman.” Steven suggested, doing hoping to add to her new mood.

“I hope so…” she whispered with a smile. “Lapis was caught by humans during the war. Peridot was her mate. After the war ended, we thought the humans had killed Lapis, but Peridot insisted she was alive and said she wouldn’t stop until she found her. …When Peridot never came back…we assumed the humans had caught and killed her too…” Spinel explained sadly. “…but if their names are still known to humans, maybe…there’s some hope.”

“All mermaids are taken to the capital for the royal family. No one really knows what they do with them there. …So you never know. I we can find your friends, we can get you guys home together.” Steven added with a smile.

“You’re strong, Steven, but I don’t think even you can carry three mermaids on your shoulders while running from the entire royal army.” It was meant to be a joke, but when Spinel looked at his face, he wasn’t laughing. Instead, it almost appeared that he had stars in his eyes as he stared at her.

“You said my name,” he stated.

“Huh? Well…yeah?”

“Up until now you’ve only said ‘you’ or ‘idiot.’ This is the first time you said my name.” He explained further, overjoyed by this outcome. They had taken so many steps today. “Does this mean you trust me a little?” He asked, mostly to tease her.

Spinel blushed, just now realizing that she was still holding his arm. Removing her hands, she hugged her tail to herself in an attempt to hide her face. “J-just get some sleep so we can get to that mystery woman. We’ll sleep in shifts…so I’ll take the first watch.”

The grin didn’t leave Steven’s face, but he didn’t want to push his luck, instead, he leaned over and kissed Spinel on the cheek before laying himself down on the grass. “You’re the boss,” he replied as he closed his eyes with a smile.

Spinel sat there, completely shocked still. She brought her hand to her cheek, feeling the heat from her flushed face. “Y-You—!“ Spinel stammered in embarrassment, while Steven simple chuckled happily.

[marvelsbestsuperheroine]

Waiting - IronWidow Request

TonyNat angst with a happy ending? Natasha's secretly in love with Tony but she thinks after his break-up with Pepper, he would never even try to love again. She was wrong.

A/N. Hello! Apologies for the delay. My laptop is no longer usable and I need a new one. I’m posting this on mobile and I’m still getting used to the formatting so forgive me if it looks weird. I’ll work on the next request as soon as I can.

- Rose

Tony and Pepper’s split was highly publicized. For ten years, it was impossible to get a public appearance of Tony Stark without spotting his assistant Virginia Potts somewhere in the background, running the show and overall just keeping everything together. Over the course of Ms. Potts’ tenure there had been rampant speculation about her and Mr. Stark. Her progression to CEO of Stark Industries was not a quick one but even then people speculated that she only got the job because of Stark’s fondness for her.

And it was true. He was fond of her. But that wasn’t why he made her the CEO in 2010. She was truly the most capable candidate with the most experience and highest qualifications. But most importantly, she had proven time and time again that she was trustworthy, something Tony valued her highly for.

They did get together not long after her promotion, which sent rumours flying. But neither of them cared that much what the paparazzi had to say. They needed to have good PR for the company, sure, but they didn’t have to believe anything that was said.

For a while, they had a good relationship. Tony put his all into being there for her. He dropped hundreds of thousands of dollars, maybe millions, to make Pepper happy. Anything she wanted, he would give her, even things she maybe didn’t want but Tony thought she might appreciate. They communicated openly and were honest with each other. But like every couple, they had their problems.

As Iron Man grew in popularity, so too did Tony Stark. As Tony Stark became more Iron Man, he became less involved in Stark Industries. When the Avengers formed, Pepper was happy that Tony finally had people he could talk to about the whole superhero thing. But then Tony became busier than ever, more traumatized, more hurt more often. Pepper worried herself sick over him constantly. His myriad of pre-existing issues intensified the more traumatic events he had to live through and she hated watching him suffer. Watching was a suffering on its own.

After the battle of Sokovia, when Tony broke his promise of toning down his obsession with the suits and when he accidentally built an evil robot that nearly destroyed the world, Pepper asked for a break. Nothing permanent. Just time apart to reflect and be alone.

Tony had resisted. Hard. He’d put his foot down, dragged his other foot behind him, and threw a tantrum when nothing else worked. That had been the last straw. Pepper didn’t want to marry someone who still had tantrums like a child.

So she packed up her things and left and Tony kicked himself until he was blue and broken. When he stopped to think about it, he picked himself back up and vowed to win her back. He threw himself into his work - not as Iron Man but as Tony Stark, owner of Stark Industries and major player in the clean energy sector and liaison between the U.S. government and the Avengers. He hoped that signing the Sokovia accords would relieve him of some of his duties as Iron Man, that maybe then Pepper would see that he was trying to compromise, to make it work... for her.

Natasha watched all of this with a careful and sneaky eye, never snooping too much but always prying a little more than strictly necessary. Her heart broke for Tony, who had nothing but good intentions and a desire to save the world and everyone in it. She knew better than anyone what it was like to try to redeem yourself. She also knew how people who got too close could hurt you the most and she sympathized. There had never been anyone after Alexei, never anyone who could even come close. Steve was her closest friend and confidant but even then she kept him at arm’s length. He was too good for her, anyway.

But Tony... Tony was a deeply flawed human being. He was broken in ways that Natasha wasn’t and vice versa. He was an addict. He could be so single-minded that it blinded him to anything else. He was impulsive. He was cocky.

Natasha was in love with him. And she couldn’t for the life of her understand why. It had been years - years - since Natasha had felt like this. But she was fascinated by him, utterly entranced. Nothing would please her more than to hug him and tell him that everything would be okay.

So she sided with him in the civil war to come. She had her own reasons too. But if she was being honest with herself, at least a small part of her just wanted to stand by his side and say, ‘I’m here for you’. He didn’t seem all that grateful, so wrapped up was he in his longing for Pepper.

Natasha knew, then, that whatever she felt for Tony would never come to fruition. Tony pined for a woman who complemented him in every way, a woman who was his polar opposite, a good woman with no shady pasts or murderous ways. A woman he could trust. If there was one thing to be said about Natasha that everyone agreed on, it was that she wasn’t very trustworthy.

In the end, she had proven that to Tony in the worst way possible by betraying him to side with Steve, the one man who had put all of his trust, all of his faith in her.

When the dust was still settling, after breaking the other Avengers out of the Raft, Natasha paid Tony one final visit to say good-bye and to apologize. She found him in his bedroom, two bottles deep into a stupor, one eye still back and blue and one arm still strung up in an awkward position. It struck her then, just how alone Tony must feel. His best friend was in the hospital recovering from being paralyzed, his girlfriend of four years had left him, the team he’d called a family abandoned him...

Natasha folded herself to climb through his window and he let her. What was the point in stopping her? He had nothing now. It had all back-fired in his face.

She sat on the floor next to him, cross-legged. For a while, they sat together in the darkness and said nothing. He continued to drink and all the while the room only smelled worse (which is why Natasha left the window open).

“I’m sorry,” she finally said. “For everything.” Her whispers seemed like screams in the silence.

Tony took a while to respond. “I should be angry,” he croaked, taking another swig. “But I can’t feel anything. I should hate you with my whole being. You betrayed me when I needed you most. I wish I could hate you. I want to hate you. But why can’t I?” He pondered this as he took yet another swig, finishing the bottle and then letting it roll away from him.

“You can,” she said quietly back and tugged her knees in towards her chest. “You should.”

He shook his head. “I can’t. I can’t because I understand why you did it and all it does is make me hate myself for putting you in that situation in the first place.”

“Tony...”

“Am I a horrible person?” He turned to look at her with sunken eyes, red-rimmed and watery. His head hung low, heavy with the weight of the world.

“No, Tony,” she assured and scooched closer. They sat with their backs against the end of the bed, their hips touching. “You’re just a man looking for redemption.”

He buried his face in his hands. “I thought I had it. For Christ’s sake, I thought I had it. I had the perfect girlfriend and I stopped my company from selling illegal arms to the enemy and I became a freaking superhero and I worked okay with the others and-” He was shaking.

Natasha hesitated. She wasn’t very good at this stuff. But she wanted to try. She slowly wrapped an arm around his shoulders and soothed him, rubbing his back and holding him close.

“Why are you here?” He asked suddenly, clamming up.

Natasha froze. “Me?” She repeated stupidly. “I, uh, I’m... I’m here to...” Her first instinct was to lie. But he didn’t deserve that. Not after everything. “I’m here to apologize.”

He gave her a disbelieving look.

“No, I’m serious. Look, watch.” She pulled back a little so she could more easily look him in the eyes. “I’m sorry, Tony. For everything. I never wanted to hurt you and Pepper was a fool to leave you, especially like this.” Too honest, she panicked. Too honest!

Tony merely blinked. “You think Pepper made a mistake?”

The hope in his eyes made Natasha’s gut sink. Nonetheless, she agreed. “Yeah.”

And then he was kissing her, warm lips pushing firmly against hers, clumsy hands pawing at her hair and his weight shifting to lean over her, to knock her over. She let him and they tumbled to the floor in a heap, toppling the other empty bottle and making it roll away. His breath reeked of alcohol but she didn’t mind.

It felt so good to be passionate like this. She had forgotten what it felt like not to fake it, to let it happen spontaneously, naturally. It was addicting, like inhaling a drug and feeling immediate effects. She opened her mouth to let in more, guided his hands to her hips, pulled him closer.

She didn’t stop to think because thinking would mean stopping and she didn’t want this to ever end. Whatever the consequences, she would deal with them. But for now she let herself enjoy this, let Tony have this. Together, they shared a night without regret or guilt, something they both sorely needed.

—————

Natasha woke up to a man she had pined over for years naked beneath her and playing with her hair.

“Morning, beautiful,” he said.

Her answering smile was so bright that it looked as if it made Tony’s hangover even worse. He kissed her anyway.

“Good morning,” she returned and snuggled closer, pulling him tighter and vowing never to let go. “How are you feeling?”

“In pain,” he replied honestly, “but happier. Just knowing that someone thinks it was Pepper who made the mistake and not me... It gave me a lot of my self-confidence back.”

“Oh,” said Natasha, wondering if she should be disappointed.

“You valued me,” he continued. He stared up at the ceiling as he spoke but he was most definitely speaking to her in an impossibly intimate sort of way. “And you had faith in me. Even when I fucked up, you had faith in me. And I... I can’t possibly begin to explain what that means to me.

“And you’ve shown me that there’s a world outside of Pepper. That if I don’t get her back I can still....”

Natasha wanted to say that she wouldn’t be his second choice. But she knew in her heart that she would. If he asked her, she would. Because she didn’t feel this way about anybody else and she didn’t deserve anyone at all, let alone this kind, generous, selfless man whose bed she was lying in.

Oblivious to her inner turmoil, Tony plowed on. “I still love her. I’ll always love her. And I’m not ready for anything else just yet. But tonight- er, last night... you helped me. I’ll remember that. Maybe someday I’ll be ready but-”

“I’ll wait,” she blurted, not registering that her brain and mouth didn’t seem to be communicating very well.

Tony shifted to get a better look at her. “You will? Cause I think someday I could be ready for whatever “this” is but not today. Someday. You’ll wait?”

Their eyes locked. In his, she saw only sincerity and a broken man whose fractures matched her own.

“I will,” she promised. “I’ll wait.”

[makapatag]

GUMAMELA, a Maharlika short story

GUMAMELA

[hibiscus]

[art by @msquared_art on Twitter]

IT WAS NIGHT in one part of the planet known as Pasinsya, and day in the other. It circled around a halogen sun. It had two natural satellites: one that was green, covered in trees and budding with dambanas, natural shrines to the diwata, and another that was a simple stone gray, untouched, for a celestial diwata, intelligent, nature-personification consciousnesses that inhabited various celestial bodies, lived within it, and watched over Pasinsya. These two moons were known as Berde and Niyebe.

It was in the night where the first ships came and established an outpost in a hidden, darkened ravine. They rode on strange ships of crystallized silk harnessing dying star drives, with murals and paintings scrawled upon the undersides of their ships, depicting waves. This symbolic-creation technology is what allowed these strange heron-draconic xenobeings to encompass most of their galaxy, and what gave them the privilege to expand out and start conquering others.

But this planet, Pasinsya, was not their planet. It was not their home. It was home to a number of people--one that lived by the border of night and day. Watch with me, fellow readers, as I speak into existence and then solidify, calcify, and preserve their endearing truths through my thought-writings.

This planet was--

/// WARNING: XENOBEING SALIMBAL DETECTED HEADING TOWARD YOUR PLANET’S TRAJECTORY. EXPECT HELP WITHIN 3 DAYS. BE BRAVE. IF MERCY IS UNAVOIDABLE, SURRENDER. DEATH COMES FOR ALL. LONG LIVE THE LAKANATE. ///

--oh! And as you can see: the warning came without preamble.

It was a simple message. One that was broadcast across all of the Panuos units of the quaint little barangay of Dulo, a barangay of quaint bamboo huts sitting beside concrete three floor apartment complexes, all radiating from a single stone chapel and a large and longer hut made of limestone.

The message buzzed Panuos units, waking the entire barangay up in the middle of the night. Cryptic. Like a thief, a nightmare. A message that only served to tighten the constricting ropes of anxiety already snaking about the barangay-folks’ necks.

In the morning, the barangay folk of Barangay Santolan arose immediately to panic and distress. The people took to the plaza, which was outfitted with a neat (yet unfortunately unmaintained) fountain depicting a slender figure wielding a staff topped with a five pointed star on one hand, and then a simple bolo blade on the other. That was made of stone.

The city hall was wide open. The people voiced their uncertainties by virtue of screaming it out and creating a massive ball of pure non-understandable noise.

“Ginang Akina orders silence,” bellowed a large man to the side of the elderly woman standing above a makeshift bamboo platform. The man was clearly modded: a shock of white hair, half a body made of strange steel and flesh organic prosthetics, which had strange bamboo tubes sticking out the side.

Ginang Akina cleared her throat before she spoke. “As you all know, we have been sent a distressing message from the SD-SK itself, of whose mandala we are part of. Firstly, we have no reason for panic or alarm. I have been told that the SD-SK are sending passenger ships to evacuate us before the Xenobeings attack.

“But the message said death comes for all!” said a stray, nondescript voice arising from the firmament of words.

“That is true,” replied the Maginoo. She flourished, making sure that her ankle long barong made of pina fiber was clean and immaculate and hugged her figure. The barong was, after all, one of the few uniform formal wear in Arkipelago. “However, the SD-SK will not abandon us, especially since we have been so integral to being a porting station and trading station for Horizon goods. We must all have faith.”

#

More noise, more arguing.

It eventually awoke-- no. He never slept. He wasn’t able to sleep after the message. At 0300 in the morning, he simply sat in his balcony, staring outside. He wore a simple pull-over sweater made of light rattan fiber, and pants that billowed before cuffing and hugging his ankles. Of course, the most striking feature about him was his white-pink hair, which sometimes seemed to glow when struck with light in the darkness.

He gazed at the plaza, sitting, fiddling with a leaf that shone pure blue, which he found when he fell into a cave to the far north, right at the border. The smell of hot porridge and coffee and freshly baked bread wafted from the street below him. Behind him, the door slid open, and a hand placed a cup of coffee on the small coffee table. “Hey, are you okay?”

His brother, an older one. The one that had even lighter hair than he did. He was also taller, slender, and wore glasses which only emphasized his gray eyes. A lady-killer, through and through. “Hoy, Paolo.”

Paolo nodded, forcing irritation to flee him. “I am, I am. Sorry. Thanks for the coffee.”

“The message kept you up, huh?”

Paolo nodded.

“You afraid for Santolan?”

Paolo nodded again. “If only I was older… I could’ve had a Meka by now. I could’ve been a Maharlika, and defended Santolan.”

“Hey, it’s not your fault, alright. Don’t do that.”

“I know that but... “ Paolo sighed. “Look, Alvaro, this is the first time in 10 years you’ve been here.”

“And what are you trying to say?”

“You obviously haven’t grown very attached to this barangay like I have.”

A silence. One eventually torn down by a scoff. “Sure, you could believe that. But right now, we have no choice. The Xenobeing attacks have been escalating lately. They’ve been invading more and more of Arkipelago. We’re undermanned, undefended, and abandoned. We have to evacuate.”

Paolo breathed again. “If only I had a Meka. If only Lola hadn’t died so soon and trained me more.”

Another silence. Paolo was leaning with both elbows on the balcony. Alvaro stared at him, perhaps longing, before sighing and ruffling his pink hair. “Don’t dwell in the past. Keep your ears open for updates. Diwa knows we’ll need it. Oh, and Aling Apolina has some lugaw ready downstairs. Just come down, alright?”

Paolo heard the door slide closed behind him.

With another breath, Paolo pushed himself off of the balcony. He couldn’t sulk now. He had to do something. If he didn’t he was sure he was going to live with regret.

He quickly jumped and leapt off of the balcony, pushing himself off of the stone railings. His hands caught a galvanized steel rooftop, and he pulled himself over and up. He strode across that rooftop, reached its edge, and then leapt off of it once again, this time using the propulsion systems installed onto his boots to propel him further. An entire street, crossed.

Wind whipped at his hair, sending his oversized shirt in every direction, and he hopped from roof-to-roof until he managed to climb up to the highest point of Barangay Santolan: the bell tower of the Chapel of Saint Abuayen. He pushed himself to the top of the bell tower and sat by an unused scaffolding. From there, he basked in the view of his Barangay, his beloved barangay. The City Hall, the broken fountain, the basketball court (3 of them in one street), the Church itself, his house which stood atop Aling Apolina’s Gotohan place.

“Oy! Get down from there, Paolo!”

Paolo looked down and saw Manong Juancho, wearing a simple black robe and holding a bamboo broom. “You might get yourself hurt!”

“It’s alright, I have a scaffolding!”

“Aish! That doesn’t matter! Get down here, you!”

Paolo rolled his eyes, pushed himself off of the scaffolding, and fell straight down the bell tower. “Ay, my God!” he heard Manong Juancho curse as he fell.

He activated the propulsion systems which pushed him up and out and into the main chamber of the bell tower. “You seem to have forgotten that my brother is an Altar-Factory engineer.”

Manong Juancho was holding himself up by holding on to the bell tower’s stone with one hand. His other was on his chest, grasping his heart. “Do not ever do that again.”

Paolo couldn’t help but smile. “Alright, alright, I apologize.”

“Bah! You always say that, but you do it again anyway! You’re going to give me a heart attack one of these days,” said Manong Juancho. Silence again as he waited for the Manong to collect himself. “The barangay folk are in a flurry. We’re all preparing for evacuation. So should you.”

Paolo swallowed. “That’d be hard to do, Manong.”

Isidoro didn’t reply right away. There was a pause, a slight nuance of quiet. “Well, get along then. Get your nosy pink hair out of the bell tower.”

Paolo simply nodded. With another flourish, he flipped backwards and out of the belltower, and used the propulsion systems to buffet his fall.

The plaza floor was made of rounded stones. A beautiful kind. It was marred by footsteps and bootprints as the people had already begun to disperse, some of them preparing for evacuation, others hurriedly getting their stalls and booths and shops open. In the city plaza, Ginang Akina and her body modded cohort had already left, seemingly retreating back to the City Hall.

Paolo walked by a simple old man wearing a shirt, some shorts, and a dirty, greasy apron. In one hand he had a strange contraption: a circuit board. “Hm?” asked Paolo, tapping on the Panday’s sweaty shoulder. He had heavy dark circles around his eyes.” “Hey, Panday Ciriano: what’s that in your hand?”

“A circuit board, anak. But don’t bother me right now. I’ve got some preparing to do.”

Paolo opened his mouth to say something more, but then decided against it. Biting his tongue, he smiled and nodded. Instead, he turned around and walked toward the two establishments north of the city plaza: the stone chapel of the Priest and the bamboo hut of the Katalonan.

He opened the door of the chapel, revealing to him rows of pews and the smell of burning incense. By the altar stood two figures: one dressed in a simple black frock, and another wearing an intricate white robe over a beautifully designed okir vest and bahag.

“Father Isidore, Katalonan Silongga.” Paolo’s voice echoed against the walls of the establishment.

The two religious figures turned to face him. “Paolo, iho,” said Father Isidore. “What are you doing here? You should be back with Alvaro, preparing to evacuate!”

Paolo swallowed. “W-Well, Father, y’see… I…”

Katalonan Silongga shook her head, her white hair cascading down her broad shoulders. “I can see his heart,” said the Katalonan. “And his heart wishes to stay and to fight.”

Father Isidore’s eyes widened a bit at first, before he turned that surprise into a breath and a smile. “Iho, you are young. You have a long life ahead of you. We have no means to fight back against the Xenobeings! They will annihilate us.”

“But we can’t--!”

“Iho,” Father Isidore cut in. “You wish to become a Maharlika, yes? You wish to make us proud and fight for us in Arkipelago. How can you do that if you are dead and gone?”

“We can fight. We can! If only we had… If only we had a Meka. A NEO Gen Meka. Did the SD-SK even give a time for when their reinforcements will arrive? They didn’t!”

Father Isidore shook his head and sighed. He turned to the Katalonan. “Katalonan, speak some sense into this child. I have to attend to the evacuation efforts. Peace be with the both of you.” And with that, he walked out of the chapel through the back room.

Paolo stood resolute. He couldn’t help but think that this was not the last thing they could do. There was something more. His burning youth spurred him onward, melting away any doubts of death or non-existence of any way to fight back.

“Your heart beats just like your Lola’s.”

“Wh-What?”

“I was young when your Lola lived here, in Barangay Santolan. You do remember your Lola, right?”

Paolo nodded. Of course. She was the reason why he wanted to be a Maharlika in the first place. “Yes. She was Barangay Santolan’s only Maharlika, pledging her loyalty to Paramount Datu Prakash Arsiya of the Sandatang Sangkatauhan.”

“Her blood boils in your veins, anak. I’m sure this stubbornness and hard-headedness is the effect of that cause. You will not fall. You will not leave this home place. Just like your Lola.”

“But… Lola Zenaida is dead, isn’t she?”

“She is, with a proper burial in the Grave of Heroes. She died fighting against remnants of various Corporations from the Corporation Wars, after all.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“The truth in your heart is hard to shadow and obfuscate. My beloved anak, west of this Barangay, in the Pagitan Falls beside the borderline of Day and Night, you will find what your Lola has left for you to find. This is a gigantic gamble on my part, but you Paolo… you may not have the skill, or the attributes, but you have the heart. And perhaps, that will be enough.”

#

Paolo had prepared up a backpack filled with essentials and gear and told Alvaro that he was going to the evacuation site. It seemed, though, that Alvaro didn’t seem too invested in listening to Paolo, as he sat in front of his LiPa and typed away, a worried visage wrapped about his face.

He walked to the edge of the barangay, where the dirt road shot into the bamboo foliage. He wore something simple: a white camisa with brown pants and some slippers.

“Oy, Paolo!” He looked up to see Josefina running after him. Her short hair only cupped her brown face, and she wore a simple white shirt underneath a waist-high skirt that was woven with magnificent geometric okir designs. “And where do you think you’re going?”

“Fifi, don’t bother. Please stay behind and help Aling Apolina.”

She pouted. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“I…” Paolo rubbed the back of his neck and looked to the sky, his face pulled into a pained grimace. “I’m going to Pagitan.”

“The Falls? What for?”

“There is something important there that I must find. It’s… a mission given to me by Katalonan Silongga.”

“Bullshit. Don’t try to excuse your way out of explaining this, pink boy.”

Paolo bit his lip. “But it’s true! Look, go back to the barangay now and let me handle this.”

“Too late, I’m coming with you. Do you even remember where Pagitan is?”

He didn’t. “I do! Please, don’t come with me. I can’t risk it--”

“Come on then. I know a route that can lead us there in an hour flat. Well enough time for us to get there, do whatever stupid shenanigans you want to do, then get back here and finish evacuation efforts.”

#

Fifi was 2 years younger than Paolo, but he couldn’t help but think that she knows more about the world than he does. Her speech, her gait, all spoke to him that he could definitely hold her own, alone, against the world.

But Paolo knew that in Arkipelago, they didn’t do things alone. There was always family.

“Fifi...” spoke Paolo as he heard the rushing of Pagitan. Up ahead, he could already see the pall of darkness that was the Night Side of the planet of Pasinsya, this tidally-locked planet.

“We’re almost there.”

“...Why did you decide to come with me, anyway?”

Fifi didn’t answer.

Eventually, they arrived at a larger clearing. They were at the base of Pagitan Falls. They walked upstream the river where the waterfall flowed. There, the great height of the Pagitan dizzied even Paolo.

“Is this the place?”

“Yes, this is Pagitan Falls.” To the right of the falls Paolo could see a few bamboo huts on stilts, the huts they used to rest in or eat in while bathing in the falls.

“Alright, now can you tell me the truth? Why did you come here to Pagitan?”

Paolo turned and looked at Fifi and sighed. He placed both of his hands on both of Fifi’s shoulders. “You promise not to tell anyone?” Despite seeming so old, Fifi was still a head shorter than Paolo.

“Yes, yes.”

“Katalonan Silongga has told me that my Lola Zenaida left something for me to find here in Pagitan Falls. That’s why I’ve come here.”

“And you came here instead of preparing for evac because you think it’ll help you fight against the Xenobeings, didn’t you?”

Paolo licked his lips. “It’s a bit more complicated than that but--”

Fifi pulled herself from Paolo’s grasp, stomped the grass. “God’s balls--you’re so damn easy to read, Pao! We can’t do this. I’m taking you back.”

“What? No. We’re already here. I’m doing this. I can’t leave Barangay Santolan behind.”

“Yes you can. We can find a better, prettier place than this in some other planet. But right now, we have to leave.”

“No! We have to stay and fight--” And Fifi struck Paolo across the cheek.

“I really do have to knock some sense into you, huh? We can’t stay here. How many times do I have to say it? We are going to die. We are going to die here if we don’t go now.”

“No. I won’t allow it.”

“Oh, so what, you’re a Maharlika now? You’re all high and mighty,? The cavalry? Give me a break, Paolo! You’re going to get yourself killed! There’s nothing here, and even if there is, say, a Meka, you wouldn’t even know how to pilot it.”

“I’ve done simulations. I can do it.”

“Bullshit!” And another strike from Fifi. Paolo retaliated then, grabbing the Fifi by both wrists, and then rushing and pinning her against a nearby boulder.

Mouth near her ear he said, “You’re going to stop, and you’re going to help me find what it is that my Lola has left for me to find.”

“No. I’m going to knock some sense into you, and you’re going to come back with me. I don’t want you to die.”

“If you hate me so much, just leave me alone then!”

Fifi looked at Paolo with wet eyes. “I don’t hate you.” Her voice cracked.

Paolo opened his mouth to say something, but a voice from behind him stopped him. “Oh, won’t you two kiss already?” The voice was human, but accompanied by three more layers of voices, as if four people were talking at the same time.

Paolo turned around, whipping out a revolver he had at his waist.

Behind them was a simple woman, sitting by the riverbank, white haired and floating in the wind as if she was underwater. She wore simple garb: a tapis, bakya, and a vest wrapping around her chest, exposing her midriff. Her eyes were pure black, without any irises, only night sclera.

“Wh-Who are you?”

She turned her face to him. “I’m the one you’re looking for.”

“What?”

Sighing, the lady rose to her feet. “Follow me, descendant. Your Lola sure had some strange failsafes and contingencies. Who knew she could foresee something so distant and variable as a Xenobeing invasion and a young man that happened to be her grandson trying to fight back against it? Ah, the Diwa is mysterious, sometimes.”

“What are you---”

“Follow me,” commanded the woman, and Paolo did follow.

The two of them walked up the lake formed by the falls, their feet touching the water but not getting wet. Paolo’s heart raced when he realized that he wasn’t falling into the water.

Eventually they arrived in front of the rushing waterfall. With a wave of the woman being’s hand, the falls split into two, defying gravity. Behind the falls was a grand door, made of gold and stone, with a simple red orb in the middle, wrapped by large roots and vines.

The woman spoke: “UWIAN SILA opens the door.”

The red orb dilated and then turned into a burning green; the roots and vines receded like retreating snakes. The stone gate shuddered and opened...

...eventually showing a huge hangar within. A complex of roots and vines, with each root and vine having a different computer and machine interface upon them, with holograms emanating from solidified leaves and branches. The heat of the maintaining fire bellowed from within, like a beating heart.

All the roots led back to a single large holding contraption, resembling a giant strangler fig. The branches and roots and vines of this giant strangler fig all were positioned in such a way to hold up a twenty foot tall… humanoid suit.

“A Meka…” The word escaped Paolo’s lips.

“You Lola’s,” said the woman. “She called it: Himagsikan 7.”

“Himagsikan 7,” repeated Paolo, breathless.

One can see the wooden skeleton frame beneath the burning white and gold platings that protected its mainframe. The simple head which was designed to look like it wore a wide-brimmed salakot. Its chest and arms were medium in weight, but its legs were heavy and bulky, with burning lights to indicate its power. It held a round mace in one hand, and a Kapre cannon in the other. Perhaps the most striking thing is that its shoulder mount is one that gave it a set of gigantic arms.

“You are to pilot that to combat the threat of the invading Xenobeings.”

“Can I do it?”

“With my help? Yes. Now, you must go back to your Katalonan to perform the Chaining Ritual so that I can help you pilot this.”

“Understood.” And Paolo ran off to Fifi and the two of them ran back to the barangay.

#

A few hours later, they returned. On the wet land beside the falls, they conducted the ritual. “You are sure about this? Chaining a Diwata to you is something most Maharlika have to mentally prepare for.”

UWIAN SILA appeared before them. “I will be doing it temporarily, so as to not overload his mental capacity. But I’m sure he can handle it. He has been having some preliminary Maharlika training thanks to his Lola’s antics.”

Paolo remembered then: the meditation exercises, the heavy weight lifting, the bathing in ice.

Was that all preparing him for this moment?

“Very well then.” And Katalonan Silongga began the ritual. A long winded one where she danced around Paolo sitting on the ground, with UWIAN SILA sitting on the ground across him. It was an intricate dance, one interspersed with incoherent babbling and thrusts of a spear tipped with a stone blade.

He knew it ended when UWIAN SILA’s eyes turned white to him. She then closed her eyes and pressed her forehead against Paolo’s and Paolo was overcome with the feeling of cold. Just like what my Lola put me through.

It makes sense, now.

Paolo didn’t know he had his eyes closed until he opened them, and he saw the world a bit differently now. He can see the flames of the living things, the flow of life in every stone, the voice of every tree.

“I can see.”

“Kalagyo initiated. Good day, Paolo de Gumamela. I am UWIAN SILA, a Defender Principle Kalagyo.”

Katalonan Silongga knelt in front of him. “Are you okay? Can you hear me?”

Paolo nodded. He forced himself up, and found that Fifi and Alvaro were both there to help him to his feet. He looked around, and he saw that Father Isidore and even Ginang Akina and her bodyguard were there. Paolo didn’t remember inviting them: he only invited the Katalonan and Panday Ciriano to look at the Meka.

“Wh-what…?”

“Breathe, Paolo,” said Alvaro. “Fifi, lay him against the boulder.” Fifi nodded, and she pulled him over to the stone to lie against it.

Alvaro turned to the three barangay heads. “Now, I have some important news to impart, and I did this away from the barangay so as to avoid eavesdroppers that would share this news and no doubt cause the barangay to erupt into chaotic panic.”

“Out with it, engineer,” said Ginang Akina.

“I traced the frequency and contacted SD-SK and have learned the following things. One: the SD-SK never sent that warning message. Two: the warning message used the SD-SK frequency, but didn’t come from a known source.”

“What?” The priest clenched his fist.

“I called for reinforcements to come immediately so that we could evacuate but…”

“But we are a Horizon Planet.”

“Yes,” said Alvaro. “They said it would take at least 5 days to get a passenger salimbal here for the evacuation.”

Paolo forced himself to his feet. Instead of feeling dizzier, he felt lighter, more acute. “Then I have to defend Barangay Santolan.”

“How do you think we can do that?” asked the priest. “We don’t have a Meka! A working one!”

It was then that Panday Ciriano walked out of the hangar behind the falls with gloved arm raised. “I got the Gahum Generator working!”

“Well,” said Ginang Akina. “There you have it.”

Father Isidore still shook his head. “You still can’t just put a young boy like Pao alone up against a damned Xenobeing army!”

“I just have to hold them off until you guys get to higher and safer ground,” said Paolo.

Ginang Akina nodded. “He’s right. To the southeast of here there is a safe outpost. Abandoned, but inhabitable. We can set the evacuation coordinates there and we could make the entire barangay travel there.”

“We can do that,” said the Katalonan. “We have horses and a few lifter suits don’t we?”

“Yes.”

“This is a fool’s errand!”

“You are not making sense here, Father,” said the Katalonan. “Come, we must break the news to the barangay folk.”

Alvaro turned to his brother. “Paolo, I know you have the blood of Lola Zenaida in you, but please, be careful. I will be sending you a message once we are in a safe distance. When you get it, leave the battlefield, alright? Come home safe.”

Fifi hugged Paolo from behind. “Please come home safe.”

Paolo nodded. “I will.”

#

“UWIAN SILA, activate the Meka,” said Paolo as he stood in front of the Himagsikan 7, wearing a silver and purple piloting suit that his Lola left behind for him in the Hangar’s dresser. Behind him, Panday Ciriano worked the various floating holographic displays that showcased mechanical information.

“Activating Himagsikan 7.” The Meka moved, then. Its chest burst open, revealing the cockpit within, with a tree-like spine that would connect to the Maharlika’s neural system. Its right hand let go of the mace and scooped Paolo into its chest.

Paolo settled into the seat, and the spiritual Diwa filaments connected to the piloting suit, which then seeped into Paolo’s own soul.

“Diwa Filaments connected. Soul subjectivity 50% sync.”

Paolo fought down the urge to puke. He opened his eyes and holographic screens appeared, seemingly projected by wooden branches from which more Diwa Filaments erupted.

“Let go of your mind, Paolo.”

Right, the meditation training.

He breathed, and let himself be empty.

UWIAN SILA’s voice echoed: “Neural network mapped. Soul upload complete. Soul subjectivity full sync. All systems engaged. Combat mode off. Safety engaged.”

“Himagsikan 7, GHW-S Ynaguiguinid balangkas unit. Ready for launch.”

Paolo moved, and even though he did not move within the Meka, his soul moved the gigantic construction. Step by step, every burning neural synapse burning his entire spirit as he forged forward, ahead, and soon, Himagsikan 7 was out of the waterfall.

He looked up, and through the THIRD-EYE Module of the head-unit of Himagsikan 7, he saw the invisible dragon alien laying by the bank of the lake, lying in wait.

As his soul grew accustomed to his armor, he moved faster. He raised his hand, and the Meka moved, its left hand pulling out a gun from a folding hip compartment. He levelled it and fired at the invisible thing.

It bolted to the right, completely evading the bullet, and shot straight up to Himagsikan 7. The soul, however, cuts like wind.

As the xenobeing, the Tsang-kko as they are called, these dragon aliens with bodies like serpents and manes like flowing thunder, burst toward him, its veil dissipated, revealing his shimmering azure form.

In a matter of seconds, the large gripping Mountain arms of Himagsikan 7 was upon the azure thing, and gripping it firmly, keeping the snapping maw of the dragon alien a few feet away from the head unit of the Himagsikan.

With mountain-shaking force, Himagsikan 7 heaved, and then threw the dragon alien toward the bank of the lake once again, where it crashed hard against the earth, and it flailed, and before it could get on its feet, Himagsikan 7 had used propulsors to jettison itself out of the lake, and onto the bank.

Himagsikan 7’s warhammer was high up, and it fell like a smith’s hammer on an anvil.

For all their god-like visage, the Tsang-kko still had bones, and all of them shattered when the hammer fell upon it. However, it didn’t give up. It flailed when it got hit, and then as Himasikan 7 was raising its arms, it shot up to push the Meka backwards and into the water.

Thinking quick, Paolo used the Mountain Arms to keep the Meka stable and to prevent it from falling backwards, and then used those same Arms to push Himagsikan 7 forward. Earth and lakewater were kicked up in large amounts, a corona of nature, as the Himagsikan used the momentum to bring down another hammer upon the Tsang-Kko, which was only beginning to get up once again, using its internal flight glands to float into the air.

The hammer slammed and embedded the dragon alien to the ground. It flailed, still. “REACTION AGIMAT: Aftershock Hydraulics, activate!”

“Activating AGIMAT,” replied the Meka, and the gears whirred, pistons pistoned. Movement exploded in a burst of speed, and the pistol was suddenly, aimed, locked, loaded, and fired. The bullet going straight through the head of the being.

It fell, limp, the winds about it dissipating. Himagsikan 7 stood triumphant, an omen of things to come.

#

The thundering of the Xenobeings’ salimbal echoed across the field. Panday Ciriano stood, riding a single machine lifter with rubber wheels like a tank’s, far behind him, amongst the bamboo shoots.

The Xenobeings didn’t need Meka. The Tsang-kko’s invading army stood by the precipice of night and day, their eyes revealing nothing but bloodlust. Their salimbals stood at ready to assist, but the frontlines burned with horrifying conquest.

Their larger units were larger than Himagsikan 7. Huge floating dragon-herons with behemoth scythes for claws. Burnings stars for eyes. The smaller frontline units were smaller power-armored ones, but none of them were humanoid. The Tsang-Kko had glands for defying gravity. It was their biology. They were floating serpentine dragons, not unlike the Eastern Dragons of legend.

And there they hovered, at the edge of darkness. The grass dead beneath their feet. The wind like water to their souls.

And then, with a crack of thunder, the Dragon-Heron Horde sounded a trumpet. One that reached to the heavens to make known their intent. At that trumpet sound came the beating of the drums, to signal the march. Each beat, more and more waves of Dragon-Heron Xenobeings revealed themselves from the Night Side of the planet.

The Dragon-Heron Horde charged forward, erupting from the darkness, showcasing their full might: biotechnologic marvels, scales instead of steel, green ghost flames powering flying airships with silk sails.

And Himagsikan 7 surged forward to meet them.

[nautiscarader]

2019 in animation - very selected summary

So, I dunno if anyone’s noticed, but this year was crazy strong when it comes to animation, both in terms of amount and quality of it. No matter what type you liked - traditional...

...3D...

...cell-shaded...

...hyper-realistic...

 - oh, wait, wait, no, my mistake, that’s clearly live-action. 

Anyway, no matter what type of animation is your favourite, this year gave you something. and I’m gonna go chronologically, listing those that I have been able to see. Keep in mind, day only has 24 hours, so I couldn’t see every new season or premiere (for example, I had no interest in OK KO, or She-Ra). Some spoilers below. And Gifs. LOTS OF gifs.

In January: we were still riding on the Spiderverse bandwagon from last year,, which culminated with an Oscar in February. And though as I’ve said, the movie would have worked better imho as a, say, Netflix series, as only two of the spider-people were properly fleshed out, I have to admit, it was a well-earned prize.

Then we were hit by the finale of Steven Universe, and while some complained about the another redemption of cosmic regime, it was an incredibly satisfying ending to a great cartoon... so much so that a whole movie and an epilogue series was made.

plus, it had a segment animated by James Baxter, so it’s automatic win..

January also blessed us with a reboot of another old-forgotten property, Carmen Sandiego, with her second season arriving in October. And it proved that reboots do make sense, but only if you actually do something with it. The story was fresh, creative, and yet, similar in its serialised form to capture the imagination of viewers. Also, grappling hooks for the win.

February was the month of dragons. Not only we got the conclusion of How to Train Your Dragon franchise, but Netlfix gave us second season of The Dragon Prince. While I still consider HTTYD 1 as the best movie of the franchise, as it cleverly told the story of a conflict without any obvious villain, HTTYD 3 was a satisfying conclusion, strengthened by the Homecoming special in November. 

TDP S2 on the other hand, did everything season 1 did, except better. For once, the studio finally broke their piggy bank and bought a new graphics card, so the choppy 15FPS animation of S1 is gone. The story got darker, more mature, yet whimsical, and it only made us hungry for more. Luckily, S3 was just around the corner.

March gave us season 2 of Craig of the Creek. I have to admit, I missed out on this cartoon in 2018, and it was a humongous mistake. CotC is quite possibly the most wholesome cartoon out there, telling amazing story about a boy, his friends, and his family, glorifying the mundane adventures in the creek to truly epic proportions. The family is especially important part, I do not remember a cartoon where bonds between family members were as well written as here. Definitely a must-watch if you have missed it as well.

On 8th of March, the International Women’s day, DC Superhero Girls 2019, aka My Little Pony But Humans And With Superpowers, started, and it was a blast. Creator. Lauren Faust, has once again proven that whatever she touches turns into gold. The shorts were funny, clever, and changed just enough of the DC universe to feel familiar, yet show us new, interesting scenarios. 

 In April, Missing Link had its premiere, showing that traditional, stop motion animation not only has place in modern times, but it can deliver spectacular scenes, though of course, we expected nothing less of studio Laika.

In May, one of Disney’s long-running series, Star vs The Forces of Evil had its finale, and that brings us to the first screech of the list. Many people complained about the direction the show has taken, some claiming it has gone off-track in S3, some saying it was S4 that dropped the quality. Some, like me, saw nothing wrong with it, but the finale let people dissatisfied. If anything, it was too short, and definitely could use an epilogue movie that would tie some of the remaining plot threads in something bigger than one single pan-shot. 

Rest in piece, laser puppies

Wait, they’re alive? Well, then... rest in piece, Hekapoo and her puppies.

This month also presented a first contender for this Summer’s line-up, Twelve Forever. The cartoon took us into wild, bizarre land of imagination, and offered quite a few very mature lessons about growing up and acknowledging one’s responsibilities. It also provided much needed representation, both in terms of colour and sexuality. 

Sadly, amidst scandals with its creator, the show was canned, though it’s also Netflix’s fault for not marketing it enough.

A-and maybe the show was just a tad too... creepy....

Also somewhere in May some Games might have been lost and some Thrones burned, but no one cares about it anymore. i think it was popular for a while, though.

However, 12 Forever was just a start. June gave us Amphibia, my personal top-bingeable cartoon of the year. Disney has hit a jackpot, giving us an incredibly creative fantasy show with rich mythology and enough emotional conflict to create fantastic storytelling. The only slight complain was the scheduling, as episodes aired daily, meaning the season was over by the end of the month. But honestly, the amount of humour and adventures with Anne in the forg world we got compensates that thousandfold. Book 2, coming in 2020, can only makes thing more interesting. 

Going for a hat-trick, in August we got the premiere of a cartoon that I was betting would be my personal favourite, Infinity Train... Until I learned of its schedule, even weirder than Amphibia’s. While Amphibia took a right turn, and gave us 20 episodes, a perfect amount for both plot and filler stories, Infinity Train... turned out to be a mini-series with just ten episodes, airing daily, two per night. And that, in my opinion, was a fatal mistake. Not only we now know that the story is not over, as Season 2 arrives in January, but the short episodes and its density gave very little time to leave an impact on us. If it was at least spaced out, then maybe I wouldn’t be so judgemental, but for me it was a blow that deflated the balloon I was clinging to since 2016 pilot. Still, there is more to come, and the story was more than interesting, so we’ll see if I get used to the pocket mini-story arcs.

September. Remember Steven Universe? That cartoon that ended? SIKE, HAVE A TV MOVIE. And by gods, old and new, what a phenomenal movie it was. A musical telling its own, contained story of betrayal, trust and finding yourself, based on Rebecca Sugar’s mis-adventure with a phone that reset itself... I have seen this movie at least ten times, and its OST is one I come back to constantly on Spotify. The songs are amazing, catchy, incredibly-well written, deep, and, as usual, send very adult messages about growing up and finding one’s identity, which SU was already famous for. Must watch.

Continuing the theme of reboots that actually make sense, Ducktales finished its second season after duck-bombs in March and May, with a heart-breaking story of Della Duck and humongous finale, extending DT’s universe to other Disney Afternoon shows. Season 3 promises even more, and DT is a golden standard of making a reboot that stays faithful to a more than half-a-century old material, while adding enough material to keep things fresh and funny for modern audience. What I’m saying is, Disney could really learn from Disney (pictured below).

But while some things start, some have to finish. October saw the end of My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, a show that has taken Internet by the storm in 2010 and...

...okay, cringy brony things aside, this was a clever re-imagining of the decades-old property, and its popularity, especially amongst the people outside the target demography is a proof of its quality. The ending was perfectly serviceable, nothing that stood out, in my opinion, but it definitely didn’t disappoint either. MLP FiM will live in history as the cartoon about pastel tiny horses that made adult men cry and gave them enough passion to create years of of visual crack. And porn. Lots of porn.

November:  Just In case if one season of human and elf adventures was enough, The Dragon Prince Season 3 arrived in November, and it provided a thrilling conclusion to its first smaller story arc. Though I wish the season was longer, and it dived into the history of Elves’ and Humans’ animosities, I would be lying if I said I didn’t binge-watch it all in one sitting, gripping my chair. 

Do you like Green Eggs and Ham? Yes, yes, I do, Sam-I-am. Question: how do you take a classic poem, made purposefully of limited vocabulary, and turn it into a thirteen episode series with a beginning, middle, and end? The answer: You add bunch of weird stuff and the mother of all complicated backstories... at least by the original’s standards. And here’s the thing: this is the first Dr Seuss’ adaption where it works. Somehow the writers were able to stretch each verse of the famous poem into a surprisingly emotional story about friendship, losing and restoring hope, as well as following your dreams. Plus, it gave us Fargo-esque team of Bad Guys. Come on. 

And just in time for Christmas season, we were blessed with Klaus, a clear contender for a Christmas classic in my opinion. This STUNNINGLY beautiful traditionally animated original Netflix movie is a very, very clever reinterpretation of St. Nick’s mythos, telling a deep, and very realistic story of greed and selfishness, and how can one turn their life around by changing their life, one present at a time.

We’re about to end the year, so HOW ABOUT SOME EMOTIONAL TRAUMA, KIDS? Yes, Steven Universe Future is here, and from the looks of it, Steven’s problems are just beginning, since they mature with him. The show’s too real, man. However, it also provided much needed levity, giving us a familiar taste. Nothing more to say, as the show is still airing, and it will surely give us more emotional moments.   

And that’s a wrap for 2019. As I’ve said, it is not exhaustive by any means, and from the looks of it, 2020 is gonna be as packed as its prequel. So yeah, the world might be on fire, but at least we got some nice cartoon to binge-watch.

Happy new year everyone! At least I have time until 6th of January when the first episode of Infinity Train Season two arriWHAT DO YOU MEAN IT’S OUT ALREADY

[theclaravoyant]

Would you write something with Fitzskimmons after they get cryo Fitz back? Please and thank you

AN ~ Thank you for your extraordinary patience. I’ve had a lot going on (including but not limited to a BUNCH of fics I hope you’ve been able to enjoy in the meantime). This is quite a cathartic fic, especially between Fitz and Daisy, as I felt I had to acknowledge that trauma - but with only vague references to the actual content of 5x14. I hope you like it! 

(I also don’t mind if people want to read this as platonic, up to you).

Relationships/Characters: FitzSkimmons (Fitz x Daisy x Simmons)Prompt: “comfort” for @mcubingo (see the rest of my card here)Rating: TWarnings: N/AOther Tags: Angst/Hurt/Comfort, Post S5 Finale, Vague 5x14 References 

Summary:When Fitz gets out of cryo, Jemma fusses over him and Daisy avoids him. A man can’t help but wonder why, but the answer is as horrible, and yet as simple, as it seems.

Read on AO3 (~1900wd)

the other shoe

“How are you feeling?”

Jemma couldn’t help but smile at Fitz as she crept into his hospital room. He smiled back, wearily, and confessed with a haggard voice.

“Honestly? Like I haven’t slept in a year.”

“Well, to be fair to your body, you probably haven’t. Not really.”

Fitz nodded. His head was heavy. His eyes ached with the pain of staying open and yet - when Jemma ran her hand through his curls he felt such blissful relief. He hardly remembered what concrete felt like, at the touch of those beautiful fingers. When he breathed, and she was standing in his space, he could smell her, and she smelt fresh and floral and it was probably just some sort of soap or laundry detergent but it was heaven to Fitz’s senses, who’d had nothing but grit and crime and sweat and fear to clog them for so long.

Jemma took a seat in the chair that somebody had already pulled to the bedside, and looked over the things they’d brought Fitz so far. A small shaving kit. His good old trusty copy of The Hobbit. So much the same as so many times before.

Squeezing Fitz’s hand, Jemma took a deep breath.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” she said, trying not to let her voice crack too much. “But I really want you to get some rest. You’ve missed a lot, but just - rest. Please? After the Framework and prison and… well, I suppose only you know what else…”

“Jemma,” Fitz crooned, her name as light as a dream on his breath, as he lifted one hand from under hers, and placed it on top, warm and steady. “You’ve got nothing to worry about. I swear. This bed is comfortable, I’m knackered, and even if I wanted to jump back into things, I don’t think my knees would have held me up another second. Now that you’re here, there’s no reason to leave. Except…”

Fitz felt a pang of pain in his heart, and he saw the slightest grimace cross Jemma’s features. She knew, then, what he knew. She’d noticed Daisy ignoring him, hovering back, making excuses to stay away. She’d noticed, that Daisy couldn’t quite look him in the eye, and there was a pain in her, in that grimace, warning him that it was not a matter of grief. Something had happened in his absence. Something bad.

Worse than the Framework? He could only wonder. Thinking that far back made his head hurt.

Jemma drew a weary breath, the kind that meant she was steeling herself up to something- that she didn’t want him to worry, though he’d started seeing through that long ago.

“It’s going to be okay, this time,” she insisted, adjusting his blankets and giving him a firm, determined smile as if she could will her outcome into existence. Indomitable, that one. But…

“What do you mean, ‘this time?’”

Enoch had warned him there’d be time travel involved in this somehow, but since getting him home nobody’d had the time - or apparently, the guts - to explain what role exactly it, or he, had had played. Well, except for the fact that he’d died the last time round, but he had a feeling that was not what Jemma meant. Not when she couldn’t quite look him in the eyes.

Worse than the Framework? Maybe it was, after all.

He wanted to ask Jemma about it. He had to. The desire, the need, rose up in his chest like the need for breath but before it could bubble out she must have seen it in him; she must have felt it coming. She couldn’t bear to let it out, so she cupped his hands in her own and fixed her big brown eyes on his and he wondered what could be so bad that Jemma - usually so matter-of-fact, usually a strong believer in ripping off the proverbial bandaid - could want to delay it. Perhaps she was trying to protect him, or perhaps herself, perhaps even both, but either way Fitz was struck by the desperation in her expression.

“I love you,” she said - but what she meant was: Not now. Not just yet.

“I love you too,” Fitz replied, a strange tone to his voice as he watched her. She seemed so haunted. How could he ever know what that meant? What could he do?

Before the answer came to him - if indeed, it ever would - a knock on the wood beside his doorway seemed to start time going again. Both Fitz and Jemma looked toward the sound, and found a downcast Daisy standing uncomfortably there, waiting to be invited in. Waiting to get up the nerve to take another step.

Fitz cleared his throat. “Uh, Jemma. Could you get us some water, please?”

“Of course,” she agreed, glad for the excuse to leave. She wasn’t sure what was about to happen between these two and she almost didn’t want to know. She did not envy her lovers their fight, but she gave Fitz’s hand one last squeeze before she slipped away, and brushed Daisy’s arm on the way past. None of them knew how this was going to go. They could only hope for the best.

Daisy could hear her own heartbeat in her ears. She could feel the vice around her lungs, waiting to snap shut. Jemma had left now, there was nothing between them but a few lousy feet, and Daisy could do nothing but stare at Fitz and wait. Wait, for the crippling fear to set in. For the flood of anger. For the complex, tainted grief, even, that had plagued her in these intervening months. It had been so long that everything that had happened was like a nightmare within a nightmare, and she had dreaded this moment for so long. The moment she looked into his eyes, felt his blade, heard herself screaming. She had dreaded finding him alive and never being able to look at him again. She had dreaded it so much in fact, that she had forgotten to consider… this.

Finding him alive.

He was just sitting there, rosy cheeked and starry eyed. An unflattering hospital dinner had been cleared from a nearby plate and his fingers picked halfheartedly at the scratchy apricot blanket and his eyes - his eyes - looked over at her with such unspeakable love and gentleness and a terrible sort of grief.

“Daisy?” he breathed. “Are you okay?”

Suddenly, the vice in her chest was not fear, or anticipation, it was tears. It was grief, and relief, and it was the memory of his arms around her all those years ago. It was his lips on her skin. His hand taking hers. It was everything, every moment before the nightmare had begun. The nightmare this Fitz hadn’t had - the one she’d wanted nothing more than this Fitz, her Fitz, to pull her from. This was not the man who had hurt her, and if she had any say in it, he never would be.

“Everything’s great, it’s fine,” she promised. Her feet crossed the floor with an uneasy gate, her knees very nearly buckling beneath her until she caught herself and lowered her into Jemma’s chair. Tears stuck in her throat and leaked out of her eyes and she couldn’t get over the way Fitz looked at her. Reached for her hand. Stroked her face, ever so gently - even more so than usual, like he was waiting for her to tell him to stop.

She cupped her hand over his instead, holding it against her skin.

“I missed you,” she said. “Things have been crazy without you.”

Just like Jemma, Fitz thought, Daisy was avoiding the question. The question that was on all of their tongues, but his most of all, and though it pained him terribly to ask, to poke the bear, he had to know.

“Did I hurt you?”

Daisy closed her eyes. Cherished the warmth of his hand against her skin, just for one more moment. Nightmare though it was, she still remembered what the other version of Fitz had done, and she knew he would hate himself for it, but she couldn’t lie. She nodded, and some of the pain flushed out of her, but she felt him recoil. Of course he would. And she could offer no recourse; all she had was her pain and her fury, and in her opinion whatever hate this Fitz had for his other self was well deserved, hard as it may be to face. She could only hope that it would teach them what it needed to teach them, take them down the right path. Every nightmare, after all, had its purpose.

“I’m so sorry, Daisy,” Fitz said. And it was infused with such passion and remorse, Daisy wept. It was all that she’d wanted to hear all these past few months, as the shards of her shattered faith in him had hardened into unforgiving edges. This Fitz didn’t even know what had been done, would be sick at the sight of it, and still all he wanted to do would take the burden off her shoulders, no matter what it was. He made no excuses, he needed no reason or loophole or prize. He’d hurt her, and that was enough.

Watching her every step of the way, for even the slightest flicker of discomfort, Fitz wrapped his arm around Daisy’s shoulder, pulling her in close. Embracing her, as best he could from this angle, with all the love and comfort his exhausted, confused, aching body could muster. Every emotion under the sun flooded through Daisy and out in her tears and Fitz sat with her every step of the way. Every moment. He did not know exactly what she’d been through, what he’d done. He did not know if she’d ever be up to telling him the details of it, but it didn’t matter: he of all people knew what it was like to have a horror, a trauma, that could not be explained; only exorcised. It hurt to know, but he’d got what he’d wanted: his question was answered. Truthfully it even felt good, it felt cleansing, to be there for her after what was clearly such a horrendous failure on his part. He’d sit here for the rest of his life if he had to, he knew, and heal every sorrow in her he could find.

It was not long after that, that Jemma returned. She entered in silence, feeling the heavy air of the room, and she slipped a tray with three cups of water onto Fitz’s bedside table. She had been planning to stay, but things were so private in here. She couldn’t tell if Daisy was crying or napping or somehow both, but she left her water, and took her leave.

All the same, her heart felt lighter when she paused outside the door. It was a heavy scene, but a healing one, if she’d read it at all correct. There was light at the end of their tunnel yet.

She slipped the ‘do not disturb’ sign on the door, and for the first time in what felt like a year, smiled as she walked away.

[fanficsforheartandsoul]

A Familiar Name | Seed Siblings x Fem!Reader

Hello! 

Welcome back to part 2 of The Letters Series! I hope you enjoy this as well :) The characters might be a little OOC but please consider that this is from the Seeds siblings point of view and I don’t really know a lot about them...

Attention!

Faith’s letter and the story around it is divided into two parts because I wanted to write a little more detailed. But I still hope you like it ;P

Part I

Warnings: Mention of Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, Swearing

Summary: Faith reads part of her letter and comes across a familiar name. To find out more she has to visit the youngest brother of the Seed siblings...

The statue of the father seemed to glow in the light of the sun setting and a small smile appeared on her lips. Faith sat on one of the cliffs before the statue with her personal copy of Joseph’s Word in her hands. The deputy hadn’t shown up in the Henbane River region yet and her followers were still focused on their mission. She was relieved. Their thoughts shouldn’t be poisoned with the lies of the young police officer and his friends. The mission was the only thing they should think about. The collapse would come soon and they couldn’t risk being distracted. Unfortunately, she was at the moment. The blue envelope, which Faith only wanted to use as a bookmark, somehow made its way, into her hands. She was curious and that got the best of her. She looked over her shoulder. No one was near. She opened the envelope carefully…

The envelope contained three folded papers and an old Polaroid photo. Faith inspected the picture first. A young woman, probably even younger than her smiled into the camera, holding a diploma. The woman had remarkable h/c colored hair and her smile was so wide and full of joy, Faith could only imagine how happy she must have been. On the back of the photo was a name and a place written. Y/N L/N Montana State University. “So that’s what you look like.”  The youngest of the Seed family smiled a little. She could totally see Joseph and Y/N in a relationship, and if they really had been she knew why. That woman was beautiful.

She unfolded the first paper, it was a copy of a diploma. “Master of Fine Arts, huh. Impressive!” Faith hummed in acknowledgment. “So, Joseph knows an artist.” She put the paper away and turned to the actual letter. It consisted of two slightly yellow letter paper, which gave away a faint but still memorable scent. “Did she smoke?” The youngest herald of Eden’s Gate frowned. Sniffing once again she scowled in disgust. "She's so young! How can she do this? Smoking is a sin! Maybe that's the reason why Joseph...” She didn't finish this thought.

Faith took a deep breath. “Come on, I wanna know who Y/N is! I will change the deputy but for that, I need a chance!” Then she unfolded the letter. She found the beginning immediately and her lips formed into a grin when she saw the little doodles at the edge of the sheet. “Okay, here we go.” And she started reading.

3rd of August

Dear Dad,

Guess who graduated at the University in Bozeman! Yup, it’s me! I’m finally free! No more drunk freshmen in the dormitory, no more essays, which I have to write overnight, and no more FUCKING 8 a.m classes!!! I’m so happy! 

Cross that out, it’s not really true. I mean yeah, I am happy but it would’ve been so much better if you were there, Daddy. I know you couldn’t but I just think what would have been if you had been there. If you would have been home. With Mom. Maybe then she would have come...

You know, I expected that my graduation would be celebrated with both of you but unfortunately, none of you were there... You're probably asking yourself why Mum wasn't able to attend the ceremony and you have the right to know... She's currently at the rehab center in the next town. She relapsed.

Fuck, I really thought she got better. The last time she took some pills and shot up some heroin was years ago. And then I'm away from home for a semester and suddenly she's addicted again, like what the hell? What happened? Why??? 

Tomorrow starts the fifth week of her stay in the center. Since she got admitted I can’t really sleep. Every night I convince myself tomorrow will be different, but it never is. She’s still addicted and I just can’t handle the fact that it is probably my fault that she relapsed. If I haven’t decided to stay in the dorm for the last semester maybe she wouldn’t have shot up 

And now; the worst news... The bill of her stay is bigger than I expected. And with my student bills... We're in trouble, Dad. God, I fucking hate it.

When I visited her yesterday she didn't even talk to me. Apparently, she doesn't talk at all. It's the fucking Center I swear. I just hate Estherwoods.

Faith stopped reading. Her breathing also did for a few seconds. Suddenly her hands started shaking and she had to put the letter down. She knew the rehabilitation center Y/N was writing about. Institute Estherwoods. Oh, dear Lord. Memories crashed down on her and she began to feel slightly dizzy. Taking deep breaths the youngest Seed tried to calm down.

A shout in the distance caused her to spin around in caution. She sighed in relief when she saw that the calling one was only a VIP member of the cult and not one of her brothers or even the deputy and his pack. "Faith. We have a problem..." The herald of the Henbane River region frowned. With one swift movement, she stood up and hid the letter and Joseph’s word behind her back. "What is the matter?" The red-haired woman scowled. "The deputy was seen near Lorna's Truck Stop. He killed a few of our people and then made a run for it." Faith sighed and then took a bliss flower from her flower crown on her head. "I will take care of him. I want you to do something for me meanwhile." The VIP nodded in excitement and blushed a little when the siren put the white flower in her hair. "Whatever it is, I'll do it." Faith smiled lovingly. "I need you to contact Nancy from the Hope County Sheriff's Department." The woman narrowed her eyebrows. "O-Okay... And why?" The Herald took a deep breath. "I want her to contact the Estherwoods Institute in Jacksonville. I'm looking for a woman with the last name L/N."

 A few days went by and Faith couldn't even think once about Y/N or her mother. And that only because the deputy was a huge pain in the ass. Even though he seemed to be making a step in the right direction when he had jumped from the father statue without fear, he appeared to have forgotten her story and decided to hurt her and Project Eden's Gate even more. He destroyed her outposts and killed dozens of members and she couldn't do anything about it. She was expecting Joseph to call her in anger but when she finally heard her radio station crackle while she was in her bunker, the person on the other end wasn't her brother. "Faith Seed?" It was an unknown male voice. "Who is there?", she asked with distrust in her voice. "I am Derek from the Hope County Sheriff's Department. I have some information about the woman you're looking for."

She remained silent for a while. "What about Nancy?" Derek answered shortly after. "She had to flee. After the disappearance of Sheriff Whitehorse hell went loose. The FBI came and started snooping around. Her cover would've been blown up soon, so she deserted. I'm her replacement." Faith sat down and smoothed her dress. An actual surprise could be seen on her face. She didn't think that people actually cared about the deputies and the Sheriff that much. Well, sometimes she was just too naive.

"Okay, tell me about the woman." A short silence followed then Derek started to tell her everything he knew. "So the woman you're looking for was a patient in Estherwoods for a few years. Her full name is Eliza L/N and she was in therapy for abusing various drugs like heroin, cocaine and also for her smoke addiction. She was depressed and self-harm endangered. She went to various therapy sessions but apparently never got fully clean. The last records about her are from 2012 when she was admitted after a suicide attempt." Faith tried to listen attentively but memories of her past started to haunt her and she heard whispers and shouts and her breathing began to become ragged.

"Are you still listening?", asked Derek after a while and his calm voice was like an anchor in the storming sea of her thoughts. "C...Could you repeat your last words?" The man on the other side of the line seemed to realize that something was wrong with her but he didn't ask her about it. "I said I contacted the appropriate authorities and apparently Ms. L/N still lives in the same house." This pricked up Faith's ears. "And she lives where?" She didn't know Derek but she could imagine him smirking when he said: "In Hope County."

Without wasting time Faith started to get up. Her legs still felt wobbly but she didn't care. Derek told her the exact address and she almost laughed and cried at the same time when she found out where the woman lived. Or used to live. She didn't actually know if the former was still the case. Eliza's house was in Holland Valley, really really close to John's farm. So it was possible that she joined the Project. Or got killed while resisting. She didn't want to accept that possibility yet, she wanted to confirm it. Eliza must know something about Y/N and Joseph and somehow Faith also felt connected to the woman. Both of them stayed in Estherwoods.

The young woman rushed to her room, grabbed the blue envelope and its content from her nightstand and then hurried out of her bunker. On her way, she lost her flower crown but she didn't care. Faith hasn't felt so excited and nervous at the same time since Joseph chose her to be Faith. As soon as the sun hit her face she started looking for a truck. She hasn’t driven for years but who cared. She had seen how some of her members are driving so it wouldn’t attract that much attention. «Truth, you can’t hide. I’m coming for you!»

 On her way to her brother’s farm, she used the radio to contact him. «John?» It was silent for a while. Then the radio crackled and she could hear the smooth voice of her older brother. «Heey, if this isn’t the siren.» She rolled her eyes when she heard her nickname. «Guess who already got a clue about Y/N!» She could imagine his shocked face but instead of a surprised answer, she got an evil laugh. «Well, you’re not the only one! I’m gonna win and the deputy will atone because of me!» Now she was the one who was surprised. «What did you find out?», she asked with disbelief. «Not gonna tell you! And I need to leave now, I’m busy with someo- something.» «Wait, John, I-« «Goodbye!»

The radio turned silent. Faith breathed out a frustrated sigh and let her head hang low. I couldn’t even tell him that I’m coming to his ranch. An angry honk got her attention and she shot upright to fix her eyes on the street again. «Asshole!», shouted somebody and she let out a shaky breath. «I need to concentrate now. I-I’m still driving…» And with that, her journey to John’s ranch continued.

 When she arrived she didn’t expect to see twenty cult members just standing there on John’s veranda. With furrowed brows, she stepped out of the truck and let her eyes wander over the farm. There were some really big bullet holes in the wooden walls and the ground was covered in craters as if somebody had played with explosives. She walked up to the crowd of cult members but they didn’t seem to notice her. «I think he’s done now.» «No, no. I bet he has just begun!» She frowned. What was going on? But she found out as soon as she asked herself that. «I will squeeze every sin out of you and I won’t stop until you atone! And when you do, you will pay for everything you did to Eden’s Gate! You will rebuild my fucking sign piece by piece and Deputy, my friend, I will make sure that you claw out every single bullet in my walls with your fingers until they bleed!»

Oh. Now she understood. Her brother’s voice was so loud and full of anger he could be heard from outside. Even though he probably was in his office in the back of the house. «The deputy will be a goner once John gets him…», whispered a female VIP and the others nodded. A sort of pitiful silence fell on them. It lasted until loud footsteps were heard from inside the house and the crowd started to panic, right when Faith opened her mouth to ask them something. «Out of the way!», whisper-shouted a brown-haired man and all of them scurried off the veranda and started to act like they were busy.

Exactly at that moment, the front door opened and her brother walked out. Oh, boy. Oh, boy… John looked angry. No, that was an understatement. He looked like he was about to strangle someone with his belt. His eyes had a ferocity in them that made her take a step back. She had met people with the same gaze. And she knew how careful she had to be now. «H-Hey, John.» Faith cursed silently for stuttering. «What are you doing here?», asked the lawyer with malice in his voice, his breathing still audible from screaming so loud earlier. «I wanted to ask you something… Something involving Y/N L/N.»

Her name must have been a trigger for him because John started to calm down and his furrowed brows allayed and were now lifted in curiosity. «What is it?» Faith took a deep breath and fidgeted with her dress. Maybe I shouldn’t tell him. He could take an advantage from it… She shook her head. No, she would ask him anyway. She came this far so she wouldn’t just back down. «A woman lived really close to your ranch. Her name was Eliza L/N…» She didn’t say anything else and neither did her brother. He just scrutinized her and then turned around and went back inside without saying a word. What…? The herald of the Henbane River region just stood there dumbfounded. «Uh… Okay? That was… an informative talk.»

A few moments later came John back, in his hands five big files. «Here.» He just said and gave them to her. Faith blinked a few times. «T-Thank you…?» Her brother folded his arms in front of his chest. «These are all of the files I got when we came here and I started to purchase land. They contain information about all house owners in Holland Valley.» A surprised gasp escaped her lips. «Seriously?!» John nodded. «Will they tell me something about Eliza?» He just shrugged his shoulders. «I don’t know.» Frustration started to build up in her. «Then how are these files gonna help me?!» The annoyance clearly audible in her voice. «Just read them. And now please excuse me. I have a date with a certain someone.» Faith looked at him in bewilderment. She wanted to respond but before she could her brother turned around and slammed the door behind himself. 

Asshole was the first thought which came to her mind. A long sigh escaped her lips. “Seriously? You could’ve at least let me read them inside...” Instead of sitting in one of the chairs on John's veranda she decided to read the files in her truck. She decided so out of pure stubbornness. First, she thought he wanted to help but he clearly just wanted her out of his way. Walking down the stairs and back to the vehicle, she heard some of the cult members talk. "The deputy got some balls showing up here with that airplane he stole from John a few weeks ago!" "I'm pretty sure he's suicidal... Did you see John's expression when he walked out? I almost shit my pants... He’s so gonna kill him!" So that’s what happened. The deputy attacked the ranch! 

A wave of concern for John washed over her and she felt bad for insulting him in her head. Since the Police got involved with them all of her brothers seemed to be nervous and edgy. Faith could understand why. The deputy and his companions brought hell over Hope County and threatened the success of their mission. 

Stil feeling slightly bad for her too fast judging she entered her truck on the driver’s side and relaxed for a second. “I’m gonna find Y/N’s mother and then she’ll tell me about Joseph and Y/N!” Determination glistened in her blue eyes and she opened the first file. She started reading...

Many, many, many contracts, ownership, and other papers later she finally found something interesting. The L/N family owned two pieces of land. One in Holland Valley and one at the border of the Whitetail Mountains. The one in John’s region was a farm. The other was a small house. Even though she already had a feeling that she would be more successful with the later, she decided to visit the farm first. She looked up and wanted to start the motor of the truck when she realized that the sun was already setting. She has been reading for hours! To emphasize this, a loud yawn escaped her lips. Faith sighed. It will take a long time to drive back to her bunker. She let her head hang low and in frustration, she banged her forehead against the steering wheel. “Uuuugh, why is it always me?!”

A knock on her car window almost made her scream. The herald of the Henbane River region turned her head and her eyes fell on John. He wore that stupid coat which he ordered online with Joseph’s credit card and in his hands were two cups. Her eyes widened slightly. A smile crept on her lips and she let the truck window down. “How can I help you, Baptist?” Her brother raised an eyebrow when he heard her slightly mocking tone. “Just open the door already and move over!”” She followed his request and scooted over on the passenger seat. John sat in the driver’s seat and handed her the cup. “Thank you”, she spoke softly. The aromatic smell of coffee spread in the truck and both of them drank their drinks in a comfortable silence. 

It was weird how John’s behavior changed so fast but it has always been like that. She couldn’t remember the lawyer otherwise. When she first met him and Joseph introduced him as her new brother she had just turned 18. John was 26 years old at that time and “busy” with his job to buy more land from the people in Hope County without making Eden’s Gate suspicious. He told Joseph that in response when the father asked him to show her around in Holland Valley. It was a big fat lie. She had known that. Faith wasn’t blind and she was able to see past his stupid excuses and eventually she had found out about his and Holly's relationship. She was quite in shock. How could he do something sinful like that? She had asked herself and a mix of disgust and disappointment for him started to form in her heart. But when she found out about his parents' cruel methods of atonement these feelings disappeared. And when John suddenly turned up at her doorstep of the Jessop Conservatory blood all over his chest with the word Sloth carved in his skin and the expression of pure peace on his face and the words "I welcome you in our family" on his lips, Faith knew he was a split soul. This evening he had been peaceful and happy and they talked almost all night long about her time as an addict, her rehabilitation in Estherwoods and many things more. But as soon as he had left her house he turned into the sadistic man that he created himself, once again. Occasionally he let her see the loving John and at these moments she felt truly like he was her real brother.

One of these moments was now. Sitting in her truck, drinking coffee together. "You shouldn't go home at this hour. It's late and you might encounter a bear." Faith didn't expect him to break the silence so she was surprised when he did. His words made her chuckle. "I'm not walking home, John." He clicked his tongue in annoyance. "I know. But these animals are crazy! Once a brown bear attacked my plane. While I was in it!" She couldn't stop herself from bursting out in giggles. His rambling was just too goofy for him. "How would a bear be able to attack you in your plane??" He was in a huff. "I was still on the ground!" When he shot her an angry glare she held her hands up in defeat. "Okay, I'm sorry. I'm not gonna laugh anymore." He just nodded and stared out of the window. She calmed down and once again it was silent in the car

After a while, he asked: "Are you okay?" She raised an eyebrow and looked at him confused. "I mean with this whole Eliza L/N stuff. She was in Estherwoods... Do you know that?" Realisation hit her and she started fiddling with her sleeves. "Yeah, I know... I didn't expect to hear that name again but I guess that was naive of me." Once again her mind drifted towards the memories she tried to forget. The long corridors, the white walls of her room that were once stained with her friend's blood. The syringes. The screams, sleepless nights, Dr. Lester's evil grin when he stepped into her room and-

“-ey! Faith, are you okay?!” She snapped out of her thoughts and realized that she was crying. Tears flowed down her cheeks and she got a hiccup. John had grabbed her by the shoulder. “Hey... It’s alright...”, he spoke softly. He placed his cup behind the steering wheel and then engulfed her in a big brotherly hug. Faith's tears soaked his coat but John didn’t seem to mind. Her hands held onto him like he was a lifebelt and at the edge of her thoughts, she knew that her fingernails probably damaged the leather of the designer clothing. The herald of Holland Valley started to hum a song and she tried to concentrate on his steady heartbeat and the rumble in his chest when he hummed. She soon recognized the song and her lips formed a weak smile. 

Help me Faith, help me Faith, shield me from sorrow, from fear of tomorrow. Help me Faith, help me Faith, shield me from sadness, from worry and madness... Lead me to the bliss.

Her breathing started to become normal again and the tears stopped flowing. She was still hiccuping but besides that, she calmed down. She felt still a little shaky but mostly because she was embarrassed. John hasn’t seen her crying in years and now she clung to him like a little kid. But the lawyer didn’t seem to mind. He still hummed her song and stroke her hair to comfort her. It looked like he didn’t know that she had calmed down. But she didn’t want to destroy the moment so she kept her mouth shut and just relaxed in his arms. The familiar scent of John’s cologne surrounded her and the feeling of safety made her realize how tired she was. Soon - without her wanting it - her eyes fell shut and she drifted to sleep.

“Please leave me alone! I already did what you wanted!” Her desperate shouts were ignored. The man stepped closer to her. “But my dear Rachel, you didn’t make Archie happy. And you know what that means...” She couldn’t make out his approaching figure because her vision got blurry from her tears. “P-Please dont’.... I-I n...no more drugs, please! I will make Archie happy, I will! I promise!” His shadow loomed over her. “You’re too late, Rachel.” “No, please, no! Don't hurt m- AAAAGGGHHH!!"

[waywarddaughterwrites]

Rehab For An Angel, pt.7

A/N: Hey beauties! So, this is a bit longer of a chapter and a bit different as you’ll see. This Original Character is based upon, and the chapter is dedicated to, my wonderful real-life best friend and faithful beta reader, @kissofthebadwolf. I love them both dearly, and I’m sure you guys will too! As always, if you would like to be tagged in upcoming chapters, let me know! We have a few more until the end of our journey with our favorite golden-haired angel. Thank you all, again, for the outpouring of love and support for this story. My tiny little writing blog has gained over a hundred followers over the course of a week, which is mind-blowing to me. The fact that you all love my writing so much is so incredibly humbling and confidence-boosting. I love you all so much!! Much love and chocolates, dearies. <3

Read Me on AO3:

http://archiveofourown.org/works/13687962/chapters/31591086

Part 1   Part 2   Part 3   Part 4   Part 5   Part 6   Part 8

Tag List:

@kissofthebadwolf @the-chick-with-the-best-fandom @eurusholmmes @speight-is-great @the-writer-in-blue @ourloveisforthelovely @thewinterhunter @cipherwheeldecoder @the-kryomancer @total-fandom-imagines @creativelyquestioninglife @becausefeelsthatswhy @tardy-bee @spnimpalaimagines @nobodys-baby-now @sumara62 @universallyvoidcandy @li-ssu @sebastianstanslefteyebrow

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As the days passed, it seemed Gabriel was slowly, slowly, returning toward a version of himself he was before. He was still choosey with whom he spoke to and how much he said, but it was starting to come across as an active choice whether or not to speak, whether he felt like giving the time, versus whether or not he could. His eyes maintained a quiet, haunted look when his guard was down and he thought you weren't looking, but more often they were holding a shadow of the spark they once held of mischievousness. His pallor was back to normal and his complexion was clear of any remnants of his time in the cell. His wings had gotten most of their color back. They were still a muted version of the golden splendor they used to be, but they didn't hang lifelessly from his back any longer. He'd put on some more weight and was seen more and more often in the common rooms (if that's where you were, that is) and was even taking to snapping in small items, proving that his grace had almost completed its task of healing his vessel and was focused now on simply replenishing itself. In short, he was trying. Things were starting to look up, starting to edge the dial ever so closer to normal. Of course, that's naturally when life had to throw you a curve-ball.

Sam and Dean were in the library looking into lore about alternate universes and you were on the couch, strumming random snippets of chords and melodies on your guitar. Gabriel was on the couch beside you, your legs across his lap, a book he was reading resting upon them. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door to the bunker.

Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked at each other. In no time you and the brothers were on your feet, the boys unsheathing their guns from the backs of their jeans and you had pulled the small knife you kept strapped to your ankle out of its holster. Gabriel stood as you stood and watched you closely as you, closest to the stairs, made your way toward the door. Whomever it was knocked again before you reached the lock. Slowly, you unlocked the door and eased it open a crack.

"No fucking way."

You opened the door fully and a mane of strawberry blonde hair engulfed you, making you drop your knife. Chuckling, you hugged its owner before pushing them back, your hands on their shoulders.

"How in fuck did you find me here?"

You moved to the side as you spoke, revealing a small woman about your age with long strawberry blonde hair, big blue eyes, and a face full of freckles. Her eyes were lined to a sharp point and her lips were a bright, blood red. She was dressed in hunter gear, a leather jacket buttoned over a blue flannel and snug jeans with a holster strapped to her hip. She was a strange combination of the most innocent and unassuming woman with the blatant capability to be lethal. She had a spark in her eyes that showed off her spitfire potential and you knew she could kill a man with a paper clip and chewing gum if she so wished without a single hair falling out of place (you'd seen it). She was more than a hunter, she was an assassin.

"Y/N, you can try as hard as you wish, but I'll always find you," she replied, her voice laced with amusement. You knew her words could be a true threat if she wished for them to be.

"I'll keep trying, but I hope to always fail," you said with affection. This woman had been the closest thing to a best friend you'd had for the last few years, after you'd separated yourself from the brothers. Your paths crossed on a hunt and kept crossing until you eventually sought each other out on purpose. Occasional hunting partner became occasional bar buddy became late-night confidant and friend. You owed her your life, several times over. In all truth, though, she could say the same about you.

A throat cleared from below you, alerting you to your forgotten audience. You ushered your friend inside and turned toward the three men standing in the living area.

"Gentlemen, this is my dear friend, Kaylee. She's a badass and will snap you in half if you cross her so look out," you laughed. The men were looking at you, confusion evident on each of their faces. You amended, "she's a hunter, but she's also an assassin. I owe her my life, and she seems insistent on collecting because I can't escape her, evidently." She giggled beside you, looking ever the most unintimidating creature. You turned back to her, "seriously, though. How did you find me here?"

She rolled her eyes at you, "Y/N, come on. I've known you for almost a decade, have a little faith. Also the GPS on your phone is still turned on." She patted your shoulder and started down the stairs as you blushed.

"So this is the infamous Men of Letters bunker," she said as she looked around appraisingly.

You followed behind her and stopped beside her as she paused to survey the men in front of her. A contemplative look on her face, she chewed her lip for a second, before pointing at Dean.

"You have to be Dean. I've heard enough about you that I feel like I practically know you already." She turned to Sam, and her eyebrows shot up as she obviously checked him out, her eyes raking up and down his frame, making him shift a little uncomfortably. "You, gigantor, must be Sam. I've heard about you but I must say, Y/N here didn't quite do you justice." She winked at him, making him flush and visibly swallow. You laughed to yourself at your friend's brazenness, knowing she was teasing him just because she could. She turned to Gabriel and her brow cinched in slight confusion.

"You...I'm not sure who you are."

You stepped in before Gabriel could answer. You weren't sure if he would, anyway. "Uhm, Kaylee," you cleared your throat and she turned to you. "That's, uh, that's Gabriel."

Her playful smile dropped from her face and her eyes hardened in concern. "What?" She said sharply, turning to look at the named man. By her reaction, it was obvious to the three men that she knew who Gabriel was. She turned back to you, eyebrows raised in obvious demand for an explanation. You chewed your lip in anxiety before taking her arm and saying in a rush, "We have a lot of catching up to do--"

"You're damn right we do--"

"--so let me show you to my room and we can talk, okay?" You gave her a meaningful look. With another look toward the angel, she nodded and started to follow you out of the room.

"Wait," you heard Sam call to you both. You and Kaylee both stopped and turned toward him. Looking sheepish, he continued, "you said she's a hunter *and* an assassin?"

A wry grin spread across Kaylee's face as she replied, "the best, for a price. Not everyone wants to commit credit card fraud."

"So you kill people instead?" Dean replied.

Kaylee's expression took on an undertone of danger as she turned her eyes to him and replied, "hey, a girl's gotta eat. The people I kill have it coming. When you really look at it, the two professions aren't too different. Both are about killing monsters."

With that, she strode ahead of you down the hall, leaving you to shrug your shoulders in a 'what can you do?' sort of way before catching up to her.

"Seriously, Y/N, when was the last time you even touched a makeup brush, let alone a flat iron?"

You laughed at her pretend annoyance as she swept the rouge across your cheeks. One of the best things about "catching up" with Kaylee? They almost always turned into juvenile-like sleepovers with makeovers and gossip. Although, you couldn't remember any of your sleepovers in junior high including sharing newly learned assassin combat moves and ways to hide various weapons in your clothes that made them virtually unnoticeable.

She put the brush down and gestured to the mirror for you to look at yourself. Another plus to Kaylee sleepovers? Her makeup skills were incomparable. She had contoured your face with such precision you felt you could cut a man with your cheekbones or your eyeliner, one. You hadn't seen your face so done-up in ages. You hardly recognized yourself and couldn't stop yourself from turning your head side to side, admiring her work.

"Yeah? You're hot, bitch. Get used to it," she teased. Rolling your eyes you got up and walked to your dresser, pulling out tshirts and shorts for the both of you. You were a bit bigger of a person than her, taller and more broad-shouldered, which made your clothes make her look even tinier than she was. You tossed her the clothes as you pulled your choices on for yourself.

"Are you hungry?" You asked her.

"Starved," she replied as she began to change into the clothes you'd given her. You left the room and walked toward the kitchen, intent on bringing as much snack food as you could carry with you. Kaylee had tastefully not brought up the angel-in-the-room, waiting for you to do so yourself, which you appreciated. You knew you owed her an explanation, not only for that situation, but for disappearing out of the blue for two months without contact. You knew you'd worried her.

Your thoughts were so full of the conversation you were going to have soon with your friend, you didn't realize the kitchen wasn't empty when you entered. Gabriel was standing by the sink, having obviously just gotten himself a glass of water. You walked in and he turned at your entrance. Your eyes met and his mouth fell open slightly at your appearance, eyes widening slightly.

Shyly, you ran your hand through your newly coiffed hair before clearing your throat and greeting the angel who was not-so-subtly looking you over.

"Um, hey Gabriel." You noticed his eyes lingering on your front and you were tempted to make a "my eyes are up here" joke when he spoke.

"Is that...my shirt?"

Your eyes widened and you looked down to realize the oversized shirt you were wearing was, indeed, a shirt you'd stolen from him months before he'd died. It had become one of your favorites and was well-worn due to the last decade of sleeping in it. It was perhaps thinner now than it used to be, which you were suddenly acutely aware of. You swallowed nervously.

"Um, yeah, I think so. Did you...did you want it back?" You cringed in your head at your words, knowing how they must sound. The old Gabriel wouldn't have missed the opportunity to crack an innuendo joke, and as you met his eyes, you could tell this Gabriel was considering it. The next time he spoke, however, his voice was strangely hoarse.

"Um, no. No, that's okay. You...you can keep it. It uh, looks better on you anyway than it ever did on me." He cleared his throat once, twice. "Have um, a good night, Y/N," and with that, he strode from the room, as if desperate to get back to his own room, glass of water forgotten on the counter. You watched him go, eyes lingering on the doorway from the kitchen where he'd disappeared for a moment longer before turning away and remembering your quest for food.

You heard a small cough from behind you and you whipped around to see Kaylee leaning against the opening in the wall behind you, her eyebrow raised and her expression one of bemusement. "So he is *that* Gabriel, then. Interesting. Tell me, is it all just eye-fucking and slow-burn, or have you climbed into his pants yet?"

Your eyes widened and chin dropped in shock, "Kaylee!"

She laughed, "you know I'm teasing you. You're too easy, sometimes. I was beginning to wonder where the hell you were with the food, I'm rather glad I came to investigate."

"How much of that did you see?"

"Enough to know your angel buddy is probably off to either take an icy cold shower or rub one out at the image of you all dolled up and lounging around in his clothes." You blushed deeply and swatted at her, making her laugh again. "Seriously, though, you've gotta tell me how he's even alive to do it. He's the one who died and broke your heart, right? What, did he actually not-die?"

You sighed as you started loading her outstretched arms with chip bags and sodas. "I...don't have the answer to that. There's a lot we don't know. He hasn't spoken about it much and I'm not going to push it. I've been through shit barely a fraction as intense as he's been through and I hate talking about it, I can't imagine he would want to drag up those memories. If he ever does want to talk, he knows I'm here for him. He's come a long way over the past couple of months. You'd hardly recognize him, he barely looked at anyone, let alone spoke. He's opened up a lot and I'm not going to ask for more than he's willing to give, you know?"

You turned back to Kaylee, your own arms full with cookies you'd baked the day before and a tub of cheese puffs. She was watching you with a soft smile. You raised an eyebrow at her, questioning.

"You're still in love with him."

It wasn't a question. You glanced toward the hallway where he'd gone, hoping he had his angel ears focused elsewhere. You lowered your voice.

"It's...a bit more complicated than that. Apparently, and don't you breathe a word to him because he doesn't know, but according to Castiel, we're, um...soul mates."

"Soul mates? Like cheesy rom-com, destined to be together?"

"Um, kinda, but with less cheese and more divine influence."

"How do you know?" The two of you started back toward your room.

"Well, I didn't know until I made an offhand comment about his wings to Castiel. Apparently, being able to see them is not a common skill."

She stopped in her tracks. "Wait. You can see his wings? Like, big, flappy, birdy, angel wings?" You shrugged and nodded.

She let out a low whistle. "Girl, and I thought my love life was complicated. Speaking of, I don't mean to change the subject, but what is Goliath's deal? Hmm? 'Cause goddamn I'd climb that like a tree."

You laughed and followed her into your room. It was going to be a long night, but a good night.

[lilcutieana]

PANACEA / One  (M)

Word count: 3k

Pairing : Taehyung x reader

Genre: Fluff , (angst in later chapters)

Rating: 13+

A/N: Its my first ever attempt at fanfic. I hope you like it as much as I loved writing it. Dedicated to my friends who encouraged me to write <3

@barbika1508 @madamef-er @breakers191 @kpop-scribbles & @jiangsspace

moodboard credits : @peaches-of-1

Summary : Kim Taehyung, an adorable seven year old , loved by many with big dreams and a smile that could melt even the coldest of hearts has a chance encounter with the angel of death herself. 

Chapter one  Chapter two    Chapter three    Chapter Four

Chapter Five    Chapter Six    Chapter Seven   Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine    Chapter Ten   Chapter Eleven

Is it really just a chance encounter? 

Rain.Storm.Thunder.Death. You see one, and think of the others. They are but the reflection of one another. Some people embrace death as their only salvation, some are terrified of the unknown that comes with death while some are ignorant and blissfully living each day as if death isn’t inevitable.

Me? I’m neither of those. How I wish I had a definite end to this cycle. Collecting souls is a tedious task. Specifically more so in the past century, since humans keep changing their faith and thus making it hard to track them down. But the list given, is never wrong. It’s made before birth and determines a person’s death down to the T. However, the only change being who would get to collect. That task is determined by higher-ups I’d rather not mention.

Mostly, the souls are collected by grim reapers, there isn’t one but many of them all over the world. Conversely, for certain, very special cases, us angels are sent. My name hasn’t been summoned or spoken of in centuries, yet here we are. The world as I last saw, has changed so much. Humans, not as much it seems. How can they? Where their very core is the same, only the ideals have changed, not the sins or the temptations.

Names. They have such values and meanings to them. Humans seem to disregard that and unknowingly cause more harm than good. In the two days I’ve been here, I’ve seen more idiocy than bravery. Some amuse me while others make me wish to never return again for as long as I can. Not that it’s my choice, oh no. I’m to bring the soul of a child unborn who is to die tonight and shall be one of many angels who serve the guardian angels in time of need.

I’m early tonight, there’s still an hour left before the dreadful accident. For the living, all I have to do, is let go of my human appearance. My true self is powerful enough to evoke strong emotions from a human, transfix their very being onto me and then the soul willingly leaves the body and fuses with mine. But, this child is unborn and I shall have to wait for it to die before I can fuse the soul. As a soul, it shall recognize me for who I am and I cannot force its soul to come with me, it has to be absolutely of its own will. That, right there, is the trickiest part for which I am being involved for the very first time in two decades. Not that others are incapable, but I’m the only female angel and children are most likely to follow females, than males.

So here I wait. Right at the terrace of the building across the railroads. Leather pants, purple tank top and jean jacket clad. I don’t have need for any weapons or accessories, they would just weigh me down. The moon is bright tonight, makes it easier for me to see through it all without much effort. I’d rather not use my celestial powers among sentient beings for they don’t deserve that disturbance.

As high and mighty I speak, I’m actually itching to get out of my human illusion, not only is it restricting my appearance and powers, its making me delirious too. Should not have come two days early to inspect on the human world. Well, it is most certainly too late to regret that now.

A young boy seems to cross the railroads now. Its past ten at night, little boys should be at home. Why is he loitering around? More importantly, why’s nobody around to watch over him? It is none of my business anyway. I drag my stare away and focus on the scattered clouds above. They don’t form any particular shape but I still try to imagine myself soaring around them like old times, when I was freer, happier and naïve. Just like the young lad.

And my traitorous brain just had to focus on him. There is something about that child, I just can’t bring myself to decide whether to ignore it or to find it out for myself. It’s not like I have better things to do. He does seem old enough not to recognize the presence of all things unnatural. Even though, my senses are dulled and I cannot tell if he has the vision, I feel it’s better to keep myself as less involved as possible. I only need to confirm.

No.Wait. what do I get out of confirming if he has the vision or not? It doesn’t affect me in anyway. If he decides to stay until the accident, he will only have witnessed a horrible accident and if he has vision, he will have seen me coaxing a soul to leave with me to another dimension. But if I make him leave, he won’t notice anything and remain blissfully unaware.

Ten minutes to go before the accident. The train bell sounds from a distance, the roads blocked. The card appears right in front of me, floating like a feather. It ought not to be visible to humans, with some exceptions to the gifted of the curse of vision. Some call it a gift, but those born with it, see it as a curse, not that it can be blamed. Who wouldn’t? Seeing things that are not meant to be is not just disturbing but terrifying in its own. The words appear describing my exact job for the day. It has been appearing every now and then for this past week just so I couldn’t make the excuse of not having seen it. ? Yes, I’m guilty of doing just that. Quite the human trait I picked up. I was, after all, a human once. Even after drinking from the river of oblivion, Lethe, I still have my human traits, if not for the forgotten memories instilled in me, they are there, but I’m forced to not try to remember what is once forgotton.

                                    Attempted murder

                                    Fuse the unborn

                                    Bind the innocent

                                                 That was really helpful. No, thank you, really. I glared at the sky to whoever was watching over me.

I know exactly who to save. I really must see if this boy is the one I need to save, if at all. He turns abruptly now, and trips over a pebble and down he goes. I jump down without a second thought and whiz past the railroads straight to him. But I realize a little too late I should have taken the human approach. Not only was there a danger to be seen, but also I let some of my restrained powers out which would attract other souls to me and that, is a sight not so pretty.

I extend my right arm to him and he takes my hand without a doubt and lifts himself up into a sitting position. Letting go of his tiny hand in mine, I sit right beside him and look him over for any bruises, trying my best not to touch him. The less contact I have with him, the better. He looks fine enough, so I try to read him a little.

“You’re pretty” he says with an excited smile. So he must not have the vision. I raise my eyebrow at his choice of words. Well if I had to choose a human appearance, why would I choose an unflattering one? Ignoring his compliment, since it wasn’t the true me anyway, I asked something that has been on my mind for a while.

“Why didn’t you run away?” I ask intrigued. It isn’t everyday a child catches my attention. They’re a nuisance anyway. Not that he could outrun me, but I wasn’t even chasing him. He was going to be a bother to my case. I couldn’t complete the soul fusion without turning into my true form and I did not wish for him to witness something as terrifying and grotesque as that.

“Because I fell.” He says with a smile. Well he isn’t wrong.  But I didn’t mean just then. I meant for a while now. I looked him over closely. He had a chubby face, chocolate curly mop of hair sat on his forehead, or it could be black, it was too dark to tell. His eyes shimmering in the moonlight above, but his pupils were too dark. Either almost black, or truly black. A straight nose and a confused smile. Oh. Right. I zoned out. And that’s when it hit me, he wasn’t aware of my presence at all. At least not until I picked him up.

“Aren’t you scared? I’m a strange lady who stays out at night” I jested, trying to read him better. I didn’t dare mistake his identity. He took my hand and sat up straighter facing me.

“I’m out at night too. It feels good to stare at the stars. Not noisy at all. And you’re pretty, you won’t hurt me” he held onto my fingers so tight. That’s when it occurred to me that I was still a human and he could see me clear as day. Of course. His heart was steady enough to show he was speaking the truth too.

“This is no safe place, go back home while you have the chance. I’m not as good as you think I am.” I glared at him playfully. He was, after all, still a child. Also, he needed to leave for me to complete the task. I couldn’t let his presence deter me.

But it was too late, the train arrived and a woman was pushed through. As the train was on high speed, she went almost flying, hovering in the air for barely seconds and then crashed to the level crossing. I scrambled and held the boy’s eyes closed and covered his ears.

You had ONE JOB Y/N. Internally screaming at myself for interfering at my own work, I saw her body convulsing and slowly loose conciousness.The boy was struggling in my grasp to see what was happening. I saw someone rushing towards her and I knew I must have screwed up bad. Yet I had to watch and wait for the child’s soul to appear. Taking a deep breath I let go of the child beside me and made him look into my eyes. Hope this works.

“I’m Y/N, I know you’re scared. But it’s going to be okay. Those people are going to help that lady. She will be fine. So please, just stay behind here and wait for me. I’ll be back. Don’t follow me please. Promise?” I asked with a steady voice and looked straight at his panicking eyes. He closed them for a moment and stared straight ahead at me, more determined now.

“I’m not a child, I’m stronger, you know? I’ll stay right here, call me when you need help.” He nodded his head once with renewed determination and I was proud, well that takes care of one part of things. “Close your eyes and count till thirty. I’ll be back in a bit” I waited for him to close his eyes and let myself be invisible and took my real form.

It isn’t painful, but exhilarating. I let my wings unfurl from how they were bound to my torso and gave them a dainty shake. That felt good. Letting the other changes happen gradually, I opened my eyes and walked towards the woman who was supported by the head by another woman and a few men were discussing things and taking. I hope they called the paramedics, if there was going to be a miscarriage, I’d rather not the woman die along with it. Well, it’s not like I had any claim over the woman’s soul. I looked back at the boy and he was staring straight at me. Well that’s odd, I was only supposed to be visible to those who had death close to them or have already died. I waved at him and he continued staring at me blankly. Well that solves it, must be staring randomly. Whirling around, I waited for the soul to leave the body. I could have helped the woman but I wasn’t supposed to interfere with human dealings. That would disrupt the whole balance of nature and inevitable grant me a punishment.

I checked my watch, it was past 11:20 now. Seven minutes too long. The assignments given were always accurate. Down to every detail. Did I misread perhaps? I summoned my assignment once again and it appeared floating right above my head. Cursing my short stature, I jumped rather ungracefully and almost twisted my ankle in the process. Uncurling it of its intricate butterfly folding, I did earlier on it to pass my time, I read it again, but it was blurring right in front of my very eyes. Strange.

I blinked a few times and it was re-written again. This never happens. I think… I just screwed up majorly. The words appeared again and what I read made goose bumps run across my skin. I turned around and saw the woman profusely bleeding and losing her life, but somehow, her heart was still strong. Soon an ambulance with paramedics arrived. I guess my job here was indeed cancelled. No souls to collect. I just wasted two days on Earth without gaining anything of worth. Uriel was going to have a field day having my head on a platter and serving it to the council to comment and dissect me with wrath and hurtful comments on past mistakes. This was my final chance to prove myself being capable to return to Earth and I just blew that up in smokes.

Sighing, I turned to see the boy, well he seemed to keep his promise of not moving from his spot but suddenly he seems to awaken from his dazed state and starts to look around. I fold the parchment in my hands and will them to disappear again. Never has it happened that a death got rescheduled. Looking up, I decide to return to my human form since I need to keep my promise too. I can’t make my visit to Earth completely a fluke. He then takes a deep breath, oh no, he mustn’t call for me, not when I’m not a human.

“Y/N!!! Come Back!! “

And just like that, our eyes find each other right across the street. His eyes seem to grow twice its size. Just like magnets connecting I feel a chill go down my spine and see him shudder from a distance too. I can sense his curiosity, fear and most of all, the admiring gaze of his. It’s like I could taste it in the air. No, it wasn’t the air, I could feel it in my veins, his emotions, and his very presence was pulling me in, drowning me. I hadn’t noticed when I had started walking towards him, as if pulled by a force unseen, captivated, and I didn’t want to let go.

“You’re---- “He abruptly stopped and looked behind me. Oh.

I tucked my wings back in. He looked at me again with furrowed brows this time. Imploring me with his eyes to let him see them. We were closer now, the blaring of the ambulance just white noise, all that mattered was this boy in front of me, who could see me now. I don’t understand how, or why it happened. Maybe my name spoken with such certainty, bound me to him or maybe it was something else. I would have to bring it to the counsel to get a better understanding. But from what my instincts told me, I’d rather not leave him alone. I had to make sure he was safe and okay.

“Told you, I’m not what you assume me to be. But I’m not here to hurt anyone. I just look scary”. I looked down and chuckled dryly. Really, what was I expecting? He’s human, my cover is blown. This night couldn’t have gone any worse. “Go along, I’ll walk you back to your home.”

When I heard no replay or movement from him, I looked up to see him crying silently. /That was a sight I wish to never witness again. No, I wish to never let happen again. I felt like a dagger was piercing and twisting around my chest. It was me who made him cry. It’s all my fault. Humans always cry around me, for the loss of souls. But somehow, this time, it’s different and it hurts. He’s crying for me. Nobody did that. I know, for I can feel his emotions and mixed together with mine, they hurt twice as bad. I fall to my knees, the pain too much to bear.

“You know, we angels can’t be hurt, we don’t age, and we never die, but you---- found my only weakness. We have fragile hearts. “

“I’m Kim Taehyung. You never asked my name. Why? I don’t wanna go home yet, I like watching stars from here.They’re pretty. And you are too. I didn’t want to hurt you, I promise.” And he hugged me tightly to him. Me, who was trembling on the floor. Me, who was breaking inside. Taehyung, a beautiful name indeed. It should have been who was comforting him. But, I felt all my worries, my hatred, my doubts fading away, melting on his embrace. I felt forgiven, accepted and cared for. Is this why we were forbidden from interacting with humans unless necessary?

I didn’t want to think anymore and just--- be. For once, I wanted to forget it all. He let go of me all too soon and I wiped his tears away. With a blindingly bright smile, devoid of two teeth he held my hand and helped me stand up again.

“Let’s go home?”

With a huge sigh and kicking at a stray pebble, he bobbed his head and clutched my hand tight,

“okay”

[kawaiibobatea-blog]

Chapter 06: Faith

It had only been a couple minutes since Grillby and Sans had entered the smoking house making sure to leave the door open to start airing it out. Grillby went into the kitchen, seeing through the thick smokescreen like it wasn’t even there. All the while, Sans was internally cringing at the loud beeping emitting through the empty home by the smoke alarm. It was reminding him to uninstall it for when this happened again. The sound continued to grate on his nonexistent nerves even while Grillby grabbed a trash bag and held it open awaiting charred items. One after another, items that had once been a part of their daily life were tossed behind him and landed with a clank inside of the trash bag. Sans was just about to throw a blackened baking pan behind him but was stopped by the warm voice.

“Full.”

“… right.”

Sans glanced out of the corner of his sockets, Grillby was tying the drawstring in multiple knots. Bulges from multiple pans and pots poked the polyethylene of the bag begging for a release from their constraints. He had just been tossing everything that had been blackened, charred, or even had a smoke smell-he had been through this situation enough to know that the smell was daunting to get out, if it ever came out-that he hadn’t realized how much he was truly getting rid of. When Grillby opened another garbage bag behind him, he looked at the counters. All black. Some renovations were going to have to be made. Almost everything in the whole kitchen was black and smelled of smoke. This was probably the worst that this has ever been.

“It’ll be fine.” Grillby tried to assure, but his friend’s crackling voice did nothing to sate his worry or his slight depression. He knew that his brother didn’t mean any harm and he wasn’t truly mad at his brother, he never could be. It was still depressing though to watch his best friend leave with almost all his and Paps’ kitchen items to throw them away.

A couple hours had passed and Grillby and Sans had almost successfully cleared every piece of charred belongings from the home. The trashcans outside were miserably full leaving the living room and kitchen a little barren. Sans could already hear his favorite pen scratching against job applications to raise some money to refill their home. He took a deep breath and closed his sockets-trying to drown out that agonizing beep. Priorities. Getting all of this out was priority-and tossed another baking sheet into the trash bag Grillby was holding open. All the bowls that had been in the living room had to be thrown away which meant he would owe his friends some money or replacements. The smoke from the fire had billowed out and into the air. Sans knelt and opened the small drawer at the bottom of the oven leading to more storage space for their pans along with the many metal utensils that Papyrus liked to keep there much to Sans’ chagrin. He had hoped that these had escaped the smoke and fire’s dangerous heat, but no such luck.

“troublesome fire…” Sans muttered and heard an aggravated crackle from behind him. “excluding present company, of course.”

“That’s what I thought.”

Sans wasn’t afraid of much in life, but Grillbs was one thing that terrified him. It wasn’t that his LV was high, neither was his EXP… but Grillby had something even more terrifying at his disposal; he could tell him-and be serious-about making him pay back his tab. He wouldn’t be able to pay it back even if he worked the rest of his long, long monster life. He would also have a hard time getting a decent paying job since some places were still discriminating against monsters working for them.

“heh, sorry grillbs.”

By the time they got back to the front of the house, the smoke had completely cleared. It was nice to see his house again. Sans was just about to speak when the fire alarm gave another beep, like it was desperate for attention. With a gold flash in his eye and a quick ball of blue fire, the fire alarm had given its last shriek of warning with a large explosion. Out of the corner of his socket, he saw Jason flinch backwards so hard he almost fell. If she hadn’t been there to grab his arm, he might have. Shockingly enough, Fall didn’t even seem phased at him using such intense magic without warning. Many humans still wanted at least a few seconds warning before using any level of magic. Then again, there was just something about Jason that didn’t set right with him. It wasn’t because he was her boyfriend either. Just with the way he side-longed some glances at the monsters, and at Fall. He found himself not liking it. Of course, Grillby had told him before that he had been wrong with people… which was true.

“BROTHER, I AM SORRY FOR RUINING OUR PARTY… MAYBE I’M NOT THE GREAT PAPYRUS AFTER ALL…” If Sans had any blood in his body, it would’ve turned cold. There wasn’t much going on in Sans’ life, however, his docile life with his brother was the thing he cherished the most. Papyrus was always smiling and fun-loving. He was able to make everyone happy without even trying with his cheerful voice and oblivious nature. It was soul breaking to see Papyrus’ shoulders slump in defeat and his smile fade.

“c’mon paps, you know that’s not true.” Sans said and shrugged his shoulders. He trudged over to his younger brother, smirking when he met socket contact with his only family. “things happen, hell, you know that i’ve done some stupid things before. we all have off days, today just happened to be yours.” Seconds felt like hours when Papyrus didn’t answer him right away. What felt like an eternity later, he lifted his head up and the smile had returned with full force,

“YOU’RE RIGHT SANS! TODAY WAS JUST AN “OFF DAY”!” Papyrus complimented and put his hands on his hips and watched as Sans nodded, taking out his comb and running it across his skull absentmindedly before returning it to his shorts pocket. “WELL, NOW THAT OUR HOSUE IS UNABLE TO BE USED FOR THE PARTY, WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO NOW?”

Sans glanced over at the group of people that were with them; the monsters didn’t seem too bothered with the cold. Fall however, even though she was trying to hide it, was shivering. How could he forget to at least let her inside? After all, she wasn’t really dressed well for this occasion. “c’mon, let’s head back inside. it must be cold out here for you.”

“N-No, I’m alright. Don’t worry…” Fall said, her cheeks red. Sans wondered offhandedly if it was from the cold or a blush at being found out that she had been lying. He settled with both.

“hm, too late kid.” Sans muttered under his breath and walked in with the rest of his friends, having Undyne close the door behind the group and ignoring the sigh that came from a tad bit behind him. With a glance at the clock, he noted that it was too early to call it a night, and Paps would be upset if he pooped out. It was only around nine thirty, but he was so exhausted.

“My bar is closed, but if desired, I can open it up and continue the party there.” Grillby adjusted his glasses, the fire crackling as he did so.

“OH DARLING! THAT’S PERFECT!” Mettaton gushed, clasping his hands together.

“YES! IT IS A VERY GOOD IDEA.” Papyrus agreed, his smile even brighter than it had been earlier.

Sans glanced out of the corner of his eye, seeing Fall fiddling with a stray thread on his jacket that she was still wearing. He had been so focused on restoring the house to the best of his abilities he had forgotten. He raised a brow bone and continued to watch her, digging her toe into the carpet. The monsters were chattering among themselves, setting the plan in stone that the party would continue at Grillby’s. “go on ahead, i’ll meet you there.” Sans said and scratched the back of his cranium.

“WE SHALL WAIT IN ANTICIPATION FOR YOUR ARRIVAL!” Papyrus complimented and ran out with some of their friends, the others following close behind.

When Fall glanced at the door and started to head out, he grabbed her wrist. She went rigid and he couldn’t help but think that she was worried about hanging out with a bunch of monsters. Many humans had been like that, even all these years later: they’d pretend they were okay with monsters and want to co-exist with them, but when one touched them or got too close they would revert to their discriminatory ways. Aggravated that he was letting it get to him, he let her wrist go with no words.

“Um…” Fall began, still looking down at the floor. “It’s a walk to Grillby’s and… I don’t have any… pants on…” A tomato red blush covered her face, reaching to the tips of her ears. A small blue blush of his own dusted his cheeks and he scratched at the back of his ivory dome again.

how could i forget that?

Clearing his throat, he glanced at the stairs, “hey, fall, follow me.” He said, seeing her not even hesitate in following him. How could he have been so rude in thinking that Fall was like those other humans he had encountered? He would have to apologize to her later and take whatever punishment she would deem adequate to group her in with those discriminatory humans. Hell, maybe he was a bit of the same way as those humans. He didn’t like that thought though. Thankfully, his door had been closed so his room remained untouched by the smoky smell of the fire. Among the mess in his room, her costume still laid perfectly neat on his sheet-less bed. “hey, kid, putting that back on isn’t going to help you with the cold.”

“Well that’s true,” She agreed holding the costume in her hand with her other on the zipper of his jacket. “Either way, it’s not like I can just keep these clothes.”

Sans was too busy sifting through his messy closet to answer her, not that there was anything to say. He may be lazy and somewhat nihilistic, but even he wasn’t soulless enough to let her make the trip to Grillby’s in just a T-shirt and a jacket. If they teleported, it would knock out all of the walking, but at the same time being at the party in a bar may be a little awkward for her. A smile came to his face when he held up the piece of fabric he was looking for,

“Basket ball shorts?” Fall asked.

“yeah, put these on. i don’t really have much variety in the clothes department, but, something is better than nothing right kid?”

This time, it was her turn to not respond. She held the shorts in her hands, the blush still on her face. How in the world did she have enough gumption to give him her phone number when she was standing here blushing at everything he did or said? Maybe he would ask her about that later, if he remembered. “i’ll wait outside.” He left and closed the door behind him. She hadn’t been phased seeing him decimate his smoke alarm with magic, but randomly teleporting may have been too much for the already frazzled girl. A few moments later, she came out with the shorts on and the drawstring tightened to make sure that they stayed on her hips. She had taken off the jacket and held it out to him, which he declined. “monsters aren’t as prone to the elements as you humans are.” He informed. “so keep it, i’ll get it back from you later.” Shoving his hands in his own shorts, he smirked when she was donned in his jacket again. “y’know, i wondered a lot of the time what i would look like as a girl, but with you dressed like that, i can get a pretty good idea.”

“H-Hey!” Fall said and zipped up the jacket.

“it’s a compliment kid.”

With Fall in tow, he walked towards the door and had a phalange over the light switch. “did you want to walk, or we could-“

“Do that teleport thing you do?”

“y-yeah… how-“

“Well, you’ve been coming to my store for a few years, sometimes you would use your magic outside of the store to get back home quicker.” Fall admitted, playing with the same thread she had been previously. “I don’t mind going that way… as long as it’s not too hard on you.”

“alright.” Sans went over and touched the small of her back. “i need close contact to bring you with.” In truth, he didn’t know how close one needed to be. She was the first person he had tried it with other than... He knew it would work, there was no questions about that. He just wanted to make sure that it would be okay for her to be this close to him. When she didn’t protest, he took a step forward and brought them both in the void between this part of the world and the next. They came out right in front of Grillby’s. Fall staggered a bit and grabbed onto the sleeve of his shirt for stabilization.

“S-Sorry…” She stammered but gripped on tighter.

“no need to be sorry, kid. the first person i took with me puked when we-for lack of a better word-landed.” “O-Oh…” Fall blinked, and her grip loosened on his shirt enough to where she could stand up on her own. “Maybe it’s something humans have to get used to.”

“hm, maybe.” Sans guided her into the bar by the small of her back.

By the time they got in the bar, everything and everyone was in full force. Grillby was behind the counter serving drinks and food to his friends, continuously shining his favorite glass. Out of the corner of his socket, he saw Papyrus and Undyne sitting in a booth with Alphys. Jason and…the girl… were sitting at the bar awaiting some food. Muffet was helping to serve the food that all the friends were ordering while Mettaton was providing entertainment in the form of singing and dancing while Napstablook was playing music for them. Everyone seemed to be having a good time.

“SANS! YOU MADE IT!” Papyrus exclaimed when he noticed the party of two that had come into the bar. He hopped up out of his seat, onto the table and jumped to the floor in front of them. All the while Sans had his hands in his pockets. It was perfectly normal to watch his brother climb onto things he wasn’t supposed to. “WE WERE BEGINNING TO WONDER WHERE YOU WERE. OH! SMALL HUMAN! YOU’RE WEARING SANS’ CLOTHES.”

“she didn’t have any, so i let her borrow some of mine.”

“SHE LOOKS LIKE THE HUMAN GIRL VERSION OF YOU!” Papyrus said and smiled brightly at Fall who had been taken aback by his very robust compliment. “IT LOOKS VERY GOOD ON YOU!”

“T-Thank you Papyrus.”

“OF COURSE, SMALL HUMAN! ANY FRIEND OF SANS’ IS A FRIEND OF MINE! NOW IF YOU’LL EXCUSE ME, I’M TRYING TO SOLVE THIS WEEKS PUZZLE IN THE PAPER ALPHYS BROUGHT.” With another hop onto his table, he sat back down on his side of the booth, intently training his sockets on the words in front of him. Sans shrugged his shoulders and went to the bar, taking a seat and helping her onto his.

“What puzzle is he trying to solve?”

“the horoscope.”

“The…”

“yep.” Sans looked at Fall with his ever-present smile. “grillbs, can i get a burger for the lady here and an order of fries for me?”

Without a word, Grillby headed towards the back to cook their orders after setting a bottle of ketchup down in front of him. It wouldn’t take too long, after all, a flame elemental monster could control the fire in his kitchen better than any human stove or oven could. That’s part of the reason why he liked coming to Grillby’s, other than to spend time with his best friend. The food was always cooked exactly how you liked it, even if you didn’t tell him. Sans was focused on the sounds around him, sipping on the ketchup Grillby had left him. The smell of the food was wafting from the kitchen via the small gap at the bottom of the door. No doubt, the food would be done soon. He could already taste the food that would be sat in front of him. The fries would be worth the headache of throwing away a lot of the kitchen appliances.

“Um… Sans?”

“hm?” He swallowed the ketchup that was in his mouth and turned the barstool, hearing the all too familiar creak.

“How did you know to order me a burger?”

“when we were at my house, i saw you eyeing it with everything you are.” He couldn’t help but chuckle when Fall blushed a deep red. “no need to be so embarrassed about it. grillbs food is the best.” As if on cue, Grillby came out and sat the plates down in front of them, putting another bottle of ketchup on the counter. “aw, and i didn’t even have to ask.”

“Not for you.” Grillby said and pointed a thumb at Fall’s burger.

“fine. you win.” Sans held up his hands in defeat.

“Can I get you anything else, Miss?” Grillby politely asked.

always a charmer.

“Um, can I have a bit of alcohol?” Fall was meek about it. Why? This was a bar, order all the alcohol you want. “If it’s not too much trouble.”

“Of course, it isn’t too much trouble.” Grillby assured. “What would you like?”

“Um… I-I’m not too good with names. So just whatever you think would be good.”

“As you wish.”

Sans watched Grillby work at lightning speed, popping a fry into his mouth every now and again. It was nice to hear everyone laughing when just a few minutes ago it was full of sadness at almost catching their home on fire. He was worried that it was going to ruin their night, but of course, he should’ve known better. When it comes to Papyrus, no one can stay sad around him, so he ends up making everyone have a good time. The drink that he sat down in front of Fall was bright, colorful, and smelled nice. Her eyes widened, and she picked up the glass and looked at it.

“Wow! It’s so pretty…”

“well kid,” Sans saw motion out of the corner of his socket near the other end of the bar. “alcohol isn’t meant to just look pretty. taste it.”

“Right. Right.” She took a small sip from the straw that he had placed in the blue-green color show in a cup. “Ooh! Wow… This is really good.”

“I’m glad you like it.”

The more time that passed, the more Fall drank. The more that Fall drank, the more she would talk. The more that she would talk, the more she would get embarrassed; wash, rinse, and repeat until she was now the staggering mess next to him. She was on her third burger and fifth order of fries. She could really pack away some food. He was glad that she was eating that much bread and stuff that way she wouldn’t get sick. He had learned from her that it was a common thing for humans to do; surprisingly, it was recommended. It had been strange to him when they first arrived on the surface, but now it seemed obvious and normal. Papyrus was slamming his hand down on the table, excited that he had solved another puzzle in the Junior Jumble book that Sans had bought for him.

“Well, Frisk, are you ready to go?” Sans heard Jason from the other side of the bar.

“Yeah, it’s getting late and I’m pretty tired.”

Sans didn’t really care where they went or what they did and continued watching Grillby and a drunk Fall continue their very weird conversation on how Grillby could touch things without getting burnt. Now her inquisitiveness had went to his clothes. However, one thing that sent his attention the humans’ way was what Jason had whispered to her.

“Next time, can you not invite me to parties like these? It gets really uncomfortable with all these monsters around.”

“Jason, stop that.” She had whispered back. Sans wasn’t really too shook about it, considering there were so many humans that still weren’t accepting and from the way that he had been acting through the night, it wasn’t a shock. What came next though…

“What? You can’t tell me it’s not weird. Especially that tall skeleton. Why does everyone try to kiss up to him? They’re all making it sound like he can cook and he’s talented but he’s not. He’s weird and a terrible cook. I mean he almost burned his own house down.”

The pinpricks for pupils that he had disappeared leaving nothing but black sockets devoid of any positive emotion. No one around, but Grillby seemed to notice. He didn’t ask but gave Sans a curious glance that did not get a anything in return.

“No, Paps can’t cook, but he makes up for it with spirit and determination. He doesn’t let anything falter his spirit and he’s a good skeleton.” She commented, defending Paps. It wasn’t like Sans didn’t expect her to defend Papyrus, but that she continued to walk out with Jason washed away her defense like it hadn’t even happened.

“Whatever, it sounds to me like he’s just pathetic.”

Sans squeezed the ketchup bottle, listening to the air escape the nozzle at the top. Just as the jingle of the bell sounded through the store signifying their leave, Sans teleported outside and stood in front of them earning an alarmed sound from Jason and a confused one from her. His eyes held no emotion but loathing and anger.

“S-Sans?” The girl commented, seeing the expression on his face.

“stay out of this.” Sans ordered, his tone deepening a little bit. “this is between me and him.”

“What? You and me don’t have any business.”

“Sans… You-“

“quiet.” Sans commanded, and she listened. “you have a problem with my brother, huh?”

“…”

“i’m waiting.”

“W-Well n- ah!” Jason yelled when Sans threw a bone in his direction scraping against the side of his face. “What are you doing?”

“Sans, stop!”

“monsters are pathetic huh?” Sans questioned, shooting a smaller bone his way, not intending to hit him. “papyrus has more heart than some of you humans ever will.” Papyrus was his weak spot. All their friends knew it, when something was said or done against his brother, all thoughts or morals went out the window. With a snap of his finger, he was surrounded by four Gaster Blasters, all pointing towards Jason. A tug on his sleeve, prevented another attack.

“I said ‘stop’!” Sans’ sharp glare looked down at his sleeve and saw his old friend attached to it for dear life.

“defending someone like him, huh? heh, figured as much. all you humans stick together.” His words were filled with venom as he flung his arm, sending the girl a few feet away from him on her butt. His attention turned from the girl back to the cowering Jason. His smile turned more into a smirk and he snapped his phalanges, making the blasters disappear. “be thankful you have that girl with you.”

“W-What? Why? What does Frisk have to do with this?” Jason asked, falling to his knees his legs being unable to keep him standing anymore. He screamed out when he was pulled towards Sans, nose to nose hole.

“’cause buddy, without her,” Sans chuckled humorlessly, his sockets searing holes into Jason’s eyes. Their gaze was so intense it felt like time had stopped. “Y o u ‘ d  b e  d e a d  w h e r e  y o u  s t a n d.” With a flick of his wrist, Jason was sent further away, and a pained grunt escaped his lips upon impact. He knew that he didn’t break the human’s bones, he would’ve been able to tell. He sure was going to have one hell of a bruise there, that was for sure. He shoved his hands back in his pockets, having his back turned to the scene he had created between him and the two humans. He heard the girl get up and head towards where her boyfriend lay, “. . . don’t let me catch either of you around my brother again.”

The girl sounded like she was about to cry with her small, pitiful voice. “B-But, Sans… I-“ He turned and looked at the girl, his sockets still black with anger.

“E i t h e r  o f  y o u.” His tone of finality shut her up in just a split second. He left both humans outside. He couldn’t believe it. She had defended him… Jason… the one who had insulted his brother. Humans really stuck together, even in these times. That must’ve been the reason that she wanted to leave the Underground. She just wanted to go back to the humans… They had been friends for years… At least he thought so. He wanted to believe it, but maybe it would be better if they hadn’t been… then it wouldn’t hurt this bad. Even if she didn’t explicitly agree with Jason, she wanted him to not hurt Jason. Why? He could only imagine how that would’ve hurt Papyrus if he had really heard it. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know. He had lost all faith in Jason (not that he had much to begin with), he lost hope in humans, he lost faith in Frisk.