#most fanfics aren't

[ekat-fandom-blog]

"It was retconned," they say.

"That only happened in an alt universe and not in the actual canon," they say.

"That happened in an alternate timeline, not in the current canon timeline," they say.

Fuck your retconned, alt-universe, alt-timeline, not canon bullshit. It is the version that made the most impact on me so it is part of my personal canon that I have built using scraps of what I've been given. You can disagree all you want with how I choose to write the characters I've used in my fanfics, but know that what I write is not written with you personally in mind.

"That's not how that character was characterized in this show/comic/movie that you're using as a basis," they say.

Guess what? I observed what they did in that media and extrapolated based on my own personal experiences and biases. I formed my own opinion and sometimes that opinion is skewed drastically based on who I think the character is most similar to among those I have close relationships with. Some characteristics struck a chord and stuck with me, others didn't. I'm not rewatching/rereading something I do not have time to find in order to make things fucking canon compliant.

[indigos-stardust]

their autism clashes so hard (so do their traumas <3)

[necrotic-nephilim]

@profandomhopper i was going to reblog the original post this comment was left on but i felt it divorced itself from the original topic so much, you get your own post for giving me delightful permission to ramble about this. buckle in people this is long.

so, DC is a big fandom that expanses a lot of different types of content, and like anything, is subject to crossovers. the obvious ones like Marvel are for the reason of being a similar and equally popular superhero world, so it's easy to transpose the worlds onto each other and overlap the characters. both of these worlds deal with multiverses and endless, endless heroes. it makes sense and there's no real stretch to think Batman and Spider-Man could co-exist. i mean, there have been canon crossover comics. and even some more random crossovers like White Collar have pretty easy to trace origins, being an actor in WC was a popular Dick fancast back in the day so there was some bleeding over that led to a well-loved niche crossover space.

but Danny Phantom and Miraculous Ladybug are where it gets interesting. because at a surface, MLB sort of makes sense. it's a superhero world, you're following a teen girl superhero and sure the mechanics are pretty contained, but the crossover should make sense. but when you compare it to the crossover numbers of other superhero media like say My Hero Academia, Ladybug takes the *crown* with such a bizarre popularity. and of course, DP feels like it makes even less sense. sure, you *could* lump it into at the very least, superhero-adjacent media, but it's not a true hero world like MLB or DC is.

but, the thing to always understand about DC, *especially* the Batfamily (which is where the crossover content propagates the most) is this: a *very* good chunk of fans don't interact with the comics. i would venture to say even most Batfamily fans don't read the comics and actively talk about it. we've all read a very fandom big Batfam fanfic where the author's note mentions the writer has never touched a comic in their life. typically, these fans are either cobbling together their understanding from fandom content, or by frankensteining unrelated DC adaptations to understand each character. you take Bruce from Batman: TAS, you take Dick from the animated Young Justice, you take Jason from Batman: Under The Red Hood animated movie, you take Damian from the DCAMU Batman vs Robin, and you read some fandom metas to fill in the rest and well, you've got some sort of an understanding of these characters. read enough incorrect quotes, some genfic, a couple of character metas, and boom, you understand the Batfamily fandom enough to start creating your own content. and of course now. now you have Wayne Family Adventures so it's even *easier*. a pretty easy to pick up webtoon that's filling in all the gaps for you. but i've been in this fandom long enough to remember before we had WFA and even then, this was still a common, if not the most popular way, to ween yourself into the DC fandom space. you cherry-picked the canon you liked and then plunged into the depths of fanon.

i'm not here to make in depth commentary on if i think this is a good or bad thing. trust me i have that commentary in my head, but that would need it's own post. i'm very split on it and my feelings are complicated. my feelings on WFA are even *more* complicated. because oftentimes, the attitude expressed by these fans who are frankensteining this version of the Batfamily/DC world they have in their head is they don't *want* to read the comics. the comics don't contain the content they're after. and to an extent, i understand that. if you're looking for light-hearted vibes of the Batfamily all getting along and having the occasional hurt/comfort moments but in the end, they hug and make up, you're right. largely, you won't find that in canon. of course there are so many comics to recommend for Batfamily interactions, but you have to get specific. you'll find them interacting in small groups, Tim and Dick bonding here, Duke and Cass bonding there, but largely, the comics don't care to balance the ridiculously large cast they've given themselves. but fandom does. it's easy to toss them all in a blender and ignore the parts you don't like. the default argument to ignoring the comics or writing something OOC is always "well the comics are OOC and inconsistent too" which, while a flawed argument that massively misunderstand how comics work as a medium, isn't an entirely incorrect one. you could serve on a silver platter to these fans, an easy and accessible way to get into comics and they wouldn't be interested. it's not what they're here for. fandom is always character-driven above all else. it's driven by character relationships and dynamics. if someone wants to consume content where Tim idolized and stalked Jason as 'his Robin' and now is trying to help him rehabilitate and they're super complicated but have this long epic forgiveness arc, why *would* they read the comics? because they're sure as shit not going to find that dynamic in the comics. it's laughably OOC and not canon at all, but that doesn't matter. what matters is the sandbox. most Batfamily fans care *far* more about the sandbox canon gives them than the actual canon itself. feel how you feel about that, this really isn't being negative toward that attitude, but it is a common attitude.

so, you have Batfamily fans playing in the sandbox and building their own narrative. common fandom headcanons are so common, you could practically write a guide on how the fanon Batfamily works with how consistent people are about it. or you could just read WFA, which is practically the new manifesto of it. even now, with this sudden spike in people talking about canon accuracy and "actually this happening in the comics", they don't actually care about the comics, just what they can cherry-pick for fodder. (even if they rob it of so much context they're just as OOC as they were before. see specifically: the recent phenomena with Tim Drake going from the woobified weakest member of the Batfam who everyone needs to save constantly and he's the smart boy but he's also the one with a sad tragic neglectful past who gets overlooked being the way Batfamily fandom played with Tim for years. but recently, people seem to be pushing this idea of a ridiculously badass Tim, Tim who *totally* has a kill count because of his actions in RR (2009) if you take them completely out of context, Tim who bested Ra's and is even more badass than Jason and he's the 17 yr old CEO of Wayne Industries being cool and flawless it becoming the new fandom zeitgeist. neither of these versions of Tim are canon, and the second fundamentally misunderstands his arc in RR (2009) but the shift has undeniably happened and it's been fascinating to watch. the same thing happened with people suddenly deciding Jason isn't the "angry violent Robin", he was a sunshine sweet boy who was perfect as Robin. neither of these are true, but the second feels more transgressive and new to fandom from cherry-picked panels.) the point is largely, Batfamily fans would rather build their own canon than play with the actual canon.

and then, you have Danny Phantom. i'm not into DP and have no interest to get into it, but what i know about it via fandom osmosis is this: DP fans sort of also don't give a fuck about canon. once again, the canon of DP is a sandbox, not a rulebook. the concepts and the characters are the draw, not the plot itself. i've seen DP posts explaining characters who are essentially OCs, but have become so dominant in the fandom via fandom osmosis. there are concepts and ideas about how Danny's powers work and potential concepts with his ghost nature that either aren't in canon or only happened once in canon and fans decided to expand on that and doesn't care about it's own in-universe logic. i've seen a lot of DP fans also express they haven't seen the show and they don't have plans to see the show. because the show is just some children's cartoon with some inconsistencies and a simple plot, as you'd expect from CN. the show isn't the point. no one cares about it's plot, they care about it's characters. they care about pushing the concept of half ghost boy to a logical extreme and seeing what you can get out of that. can you make it weird and fucked up. how much can you highlight on his trauma and body horror. what identity crisis can you give him and how can you build his interactions with other characters in his world around that and also make those characters fun and unique on their own. sure, the skeleton of canon is there, but the meat lies all in the fanon.

Miraculous Ladybug also exists in this similar vein. the characters, the concepts, those hold intrigue. and not even mentioning the fact the original concept for this show was supposed to be aimed to an older audience, so you can see the bones of something a bit more mature and nuanced under this typical, villain of the week magical girl transformation show. the show itself is a bit shallow and that's not a *bad* thing, it's just the medium it exists within being aimed towards children. but the concepts of a teen girl who's basically a sort of chosen one, a boy who doesn't know his father is the big bad of the show, and their weird identity porn love... square thing. those dynamics are *so* complicated and such a fun sandbox to play in with character-driven fandom.

so, at the core, you have three fandoms that care more about the culturally accepted fanon than the canon, with a good chunk of people often not even consuming the original canon content. and well, DC is an *easy* world to transpose just about anything onto. a boy who's half ghost and fighting supernatural threats? that makes sense, DC has ghost heroes like Deadman already. a girl who has this magical item that gives her animal themed superpowers? i mean that's practically the same thing as Vixen's Totem so that one makes sense too. they fit in pretty easy, no needing to change the world to accommodate them. and of course, if you're a fan of *one* fandom where you don't care for the canon content and only like the fandom sandbox, chances are, you'll get drawn in pretty easily to another fandom with similar mechanics. if you can teach yourself the DP fandom rules/concepts, you can teach yourself the Batfamily fandom rules/concepts. and well, since there's so much crossover in fandom members, why not write the fanfiction? crossover fics will always exist, but with such a shared member base, you have a really big boom.

it's why the characters you see DP interact with in DC are *always* characters who are far more driven by fanon than canon. Danny and John Constantine is a *massive* concept. for people who don't read Hellblazer comics. my poor partner, @divine-dominion has lamented to me pretty often about finding DP content in the Hellblazer tag that is essentially turning Constantine into an OC. because whatever version of Constantine is being written about isn't one bit comics accurate, and really, isn't trying to be. and the same thing happens with Shazam. you watch Young Justice and understand him well enough, you get drawn in by the character concept that you just run with it. people put their favorite blorbos in the same place because hey, wouldn't ghost boy be pretty cool in a city like *Gotham*. how would Batman even react to him. and then, the shipping. because ages for the Batfamily can be easily hand-waved and moved around based on where you plop Danny into the timeline, you have your pick of the litter with him, and same with Ladybug. of course there are the most popular ships but largely, the world is your oyster.

i don't think this is the worst thing in the world for either fandom. it's not hard to filter out the crossover tags and scroll past content i don't like. and sure, i see the appeal of making your blorbos from two different places meet. i've got my drafts *full* of DC/MHA crossover ideas because well, i like them both and think that would be cool. i think my only gripe with it is when DP or MLB crossover content seeps it's way into the wrong tags. using the above example, if you're writing about Danny and Constantine but there's zero content of the actual Hellblazer comics, i don't think you need the Hellblazer tag, just the Constantine character tag. tbh i wish this extended onto Ao3 and people utilized fandom tags better. if you're writing Batfamily fanfiction that is very clearly and obviously WFA driven in characterization and concepts, i would far prefer those fics be tagged with the WFA fandom tag rather than the Batman (comics) fandom tag. because well, you're not writing about the Batman comics. and there's nothing wrong with that, but it helps if you don't confuse yourself for content striving to interact with canon more. (this especially extends to Young Justice, by the way. if you're writing for the Young Justice tv show please, please stop using the Young Justice (comics) fandom tag. i'm at my wit's end- /lh)

the whole thing is fascinating. i've got zero interest in entering DP or MLB as fandoms because that's not my speed, but witnessing it as an outsider is my favorite pastime. i see a *lot* of posts going around the DC x DP space that are helping explain to people who's who, what's what, and understanding the canon/fanon of both of these properties so others can better enter the space. which is not something you'd need in a fandom driven only by it's canon content, but it is sweet watching others try to help newbies enter the space. it's a very inviting fandom space, i think, whether you lament it's existence or not. they're just sitting in their corner with their blorbos, and i gotta respect that. the posts explaining the Batfamily to DP fans are always fun for me to read, even if i disagree with some of the characterizations in them because it helps shine a light on what the fans of this crossover regard as "important" enough about each fandom to be worth including those sorts of primers. very fascinating stuff.

[1singulargrape]

This post has been living in my head ever since I saw it and what was supposed to be a prompt I wanted to store in my drafts ended up writing itself. Hope you enjoy!

Yuuji walks in to Sukuna sitting on the porch. His back is turned to the young man, something taking all of his attention.

Yuuji approached and understood immediately: it's a small ball of white with patches of orange and black spread around its fur. The kitty looked to be old enough to be weaned but still small; a few months old at best.

It was rubbing its head along Sukuna's hands, purring loudly. It meows needily when the caresses start to slow down and receives some chin scratches for it. If Yuuji had looked at Sukuna's face at that moment he could have caught the laughter in his eyes.

"I didn't know you liked cats". Yuuji sat beside him and brought his hand to the bite size lawnmower in front of them. The kitty sniffed at his fingers before rubbing itself with more fervor, demanding affection from the newcomer.

"...I never said I didn't." Sukuna's right eyes didn't leave the critter as he turned to look at Yuuji. "Besides, she's the one that dared to approach me. I had to at least entertain her bravery," he ran a finger down the kitten's spine, scratching the base of her tail; her butt wiggled with the movement. She tried turning around for more headpats but the hand had already retreated. "And she reminds me of you."

Yuuji turned to look at the other man "I don't see the resemblance."

"Watch."

Sukuna brought one of his hands to the kitten's face with his index finger extended. The kitty looked at it as if she had never seen it before and tried sniffing it, but before she could complete her investigations the finger moved and quickly pressed between her eyes. She went cross-eyed and blinked her big green eyes, hears perked up, while retracting her neck; she landed on her butt, bewilderment evident on the feline's face.

Yuuji wasn't impressed. He moved his hand under the cat and lifted it to his torso, "How does that remind you of me."

But while Yuuji was looking at his furry friend to make sure she was comfortable in his arms, a finger suddenly appeared in his vision, the boy went cross-eyed for a moment and when it left he blinked, once, having leaned back without noticing.

Before the embarrassment could catch up to him he wanted to berate his companion, but the words died out in his throat when he heard...

A soft chuckle made him look to his right and he saw Sukuna, smiling, his chest stuttering to the rhythm of his laughter. His face was relaxed yet happy, without any hint of malice or mockery. He was simply having fun, albeit to Yuuji's expense, but the younger man had never seen his companion so openly content before.

All of Yuuji's annoyance disappeared, and he smiled softly.

When he saw Yuuji's face, Sukuna went silent and his expression morphed back to his usual neutral frown.

"What are you looking at brat?" came the delayed question.

"Nothing. I'm just happy to see you." Yuuji was still holding the kitten who was trying to grab the collar of his shirt. The small claws were sharp but he paid it no mind.

"So, what's her name?" he asked, pulling free a claw that was stuck in the fabric.

"Cat."

"Cat?"

"Yes, until further notice." Sukuna placed an arm behind Yuuji and leaned towards him. He brought a hand closer and started playing with Cat again. The kitten was on her back and fiercely answered all of the man's "attacks" with vigorous biting and scratching. Although she could never do any real damage, Sukuna soon retreated, abdicating for now.

He was still leaning on Yuuji's shoulder when the other spoke up, "With the name you gave yourself, I thought you'd be a bit more talented at this." Cat was trying to paw his face now. "Even I could come up with a better name."

Sukuna narrowed his eyes at him for a moment. He then scoffed and stood up, "I highly doubt that."

He picked up a plate Yuuji hadn't noticed before, it was empty save for a few fishbones. "For now go walk our little guest. And buy more fresh fish and meat while you're at it." A small pause. "No canned food, her palate is far too refined for that processed junk," he added with disdain.

Yuuji frankly doubted that a stray that probably lived off vermin and thrown leftovers and was most likely infected with some kind of parasite would mind, but he addressed another issue first.

"You don't walk a cat? They just do their thing and you clean up after them." Cat was trying to jump out of Yuuji's arms. She was looking at the plate Sukuna was holding, forgetting she emptied it earlier. To emphasize her point she started meowing at him.

"I will not lower myself to pick up animal waste, and I better not find anything staining this propriety, so you take care of it." He punctuated his sentence by turning around and heading towards the living room.

"Sure Your Highness. Anything else this lowly servant could do for you?"

Yuuji didn't actually expect the other man to stop. Sukuna turned around and leaned against the doorway, bringing a hand to his chin thoughtfully, "She'll need a place to sleep. Don't get one of those plastic baskets, a fluffy pillow seems more appropriate. As for the bowls I'll accept ceramic or glass. Do whatever you want with the litter, so long as it doesn't smell."

And with that he disappeared inside before Yuuji could protest being made into the errand boy again.

...well, he did ask.

Yuuji stood up with a huff. He held Cat in front of him and she only stared back with her big empty eyes, "It's always like that with him, he does whatever he wants and leaves the gross part to me. But don't worry, I'll make sure he learns how to take good care of you too." Yuuji flashed a beaming smile towards Cat who showed no reaction, then sighed and went back to petting her. She seemed to have spent a lot of energy already and would hopefully rest in Yuuji's front pocket.

He headed towards the entrance making a mental list of everything Sukuna asked and a few extra things that will come in handy. He'll have to go to an animal store for good quality products. And book a visit to the vet. An unexpected spending for sure but thinking about Sukuna's smile and laughter earlier told Yuuji it was worth it.

///

Late in the night, Yuuji was heading back to his (empty) bed after getting some water.

Sukuna had been holed up in his study all evening with Cat doing god-knows-what.

Since he already knew sleep would not come back to him easily, he decided it wouldn't hurt to take a peek inside the room.

His companion was was sitting on the floor (again?) with Cat's head peeking out from behind his frame. She was sound asleep on his thigh, her soft purring barely reaching Yuuji's ears.

Brand new toys were littered around the room and sheets of paper surrounded the man, all with lines upon lines of ink with what looked like annotations and crossed out words. He tapped the end of a brush on his knee, and another hand was near his head. Although Yuuji couldn't see his face, he knew he was deep in thoughts.

Yuuji smiled and headed back to their bed knowing he would most likely spend the rest of the night alone.

After all, choosing a name for his first daughter was something Sukuna would do with the upmost care.

[makerofmadness]

itai itai no SICK SICK - a Cookie Run fanfic

(I spent like two months writing this whole thing lol. If you're wondering how long this is: I hit the text block limit [it's 1,000 in one post btw] and lagged out the post editor and my phone started heating up)

Warning for Heavy Angst & Whump, Hurt/Comfort, as in "a crap ton of hurt but eventually things get better"

Inspired by the song ベノム by Kairiki Bear (title comes from the lyrics)

Starring: Alchemist Cookie ft. Vampire Cookie and others

(Note: some implied Sparkvamp. Doesn't really go any further than the games themselves, though, so I didn't think it was worth tagging as ship but thought it was worth warning for)

TW: Alcoholism (or whatever Vampire is), (Self-Inflicted) Poisoning, Self-Harm (Via Poisoning), Suicidal Themes, (Cookiefied) Hematemesis

(Please tell me if more should be added to the TW, I will update accordingly)

Cover drawn by @driftwoodmfb (background by Nou/from the song's MV) and thanks to my friend @/sleep.starvedd from discord for the writing advice for one scene. And thanks to literally all my friends who read this before it was finished (@softichill @boom-fanfic-a-latta @organichotchoco and also @cosmoknightchaos who wasn't even in this fandom) couldn't have made it without ya.

(Story under the cut. Enjoy)

Grape juice.

She couldn't escape the smell of it within her home. Every day, every time she walked anywhere except for her room/lab, and especially any time she saw her own brother.

Alchemist Cookie's existence was less happy than it would've seemed from the outside, or than she really preferred to present it to others. And it all came down to one thing:

Vampire Cookie.

Embarrassing, was it not? How much he relied on her, his little sister, to keep him healthy, to keep the house tidy, to keep him together. He didn't ever take care of her, she wondered if he'd even notice if she were to ever fall sick and need taking care of, or if he'd just be happy to have that awful nagging away from him, as if she didn't nag with a purpose. 

As if he'd even have a long enough attention span to look after her. 

Ugh.

She shook the thought out of her head as she sat down at the table for dinner, alone. Vampire Cookie has gone out that night- he was always either at home or at Sparkling Cookie's juice bar, it was a struggle to get him to go anywhere else. She was half-considering calling Sparkling Cookie just to beg him to send her brother home, but she knew that would be unreasonable to ask of him like that.

Sparkling Cookie was nice. She liked Sparkling Cookie. He was kind to her; he showed her how to mix drinks once and she tried to apply that skill to her alchemy sometimes. She saw him too often. She somewhat resented him too. She would've resented him more if she hadn't met him.

It wasn't fun having to be called over so often, to pick her own brother up like that, to shoulder him home as he'd confusedly ramble about this and that, as he'd seem to have forgotten who she was...

It hurt. She felt sick just thinking about it.

It'd come back to him, it always did. He promised he always forgot everything from time to time like that, the times he'd forgotten his own name still scared her, but that he'd never really forget her.

She didn't believe it. One day he wouldn't see her every day, and then he wouldn't remember her when he sobered up. One day he'd be around and she wouldn't be. His lifespan would outlast hers. That was what little she really understood of his condition. And how she resented it.

She didn't really understand her brother and how he operated. She worried for his health as he seemed to only consume grape juice some days, and seemed bored or averse of normal sustenance. She tried everything in her power to get anything good into his diet, despite his resistance.

"I don't need that stuff, sis," he'd always tell her, "all I need is grape juice. That's what keeps me going."

She couldn't help but worry for him. He never seemed to worsen despite his diet being built on what should've been unstable grounds- the opposite was the case, actually: he was considered quite the strong and ethereally handsome Cookie by most. He was popular, he had many treasures, and nothing ever seemed to get to him. Everything was well with his life. "Cheers to a wonderful life!" He'd say sometimes.

Was she an afterthought, or did he just not see her distress?

As a Cookie, he was many things: Carelessfree. Unaffected by her pain. An immortal being who would outlive her.

Who would take care of him after that?

She had only ever talked about this to him once. And he told her she was "too young to start thinking about mortality." She was still what would be considered too young for that. But how could she not? Life was at alchemy's center, and her brother was an immortal vampire who would definitely outlive her.

And yet here she was, still trying to make him eat his vegetables because it was 'good for him' or make him go to check-ups with Dr. Bones Cookie because he was too lazy to bother going out that far for something without a promise of juice. He didn't need any of this. She really did know it deep down. But she kept doing it anyway.

She would never dare say it, but maybe deep down she just wanted to pretend he was normal.

...Her brother probably would've crumbled from juice overdose by now if he had been normal.

From that poison he sustained himself on.

But the alternative would've been...

She picked at her plate, having lost her appetite suddenly. She much preferred devoting as much time and energy as possible to shutting herself away in her lab, away from her brother and the grape juice smell that came off of his very dough, and endlessly researching and experimenting until he found his way in somehow and made her stop pushing herself so hard. Her life's work had been researching Life Potions. Her Life's work had been to extend her own lifespan

She got up from the table, leaving her plate untouched. Perhaps Vampire Cookie would just eat it for her. She knew he wouldn't bother. He didn't typically bother with normal Cookie meals, when he did it was either to please her, to participate with a group, to look normal at events, or for the flavor. He wouldn't be eating a random salad by himself.

...she decided to go over to the phone and make a call. To a number she had to have memorized by now:

"...hello? Sparkling Cookie? Yes, it's Alchemist Cookie, I was just wondering if my brother is going to come home soon... ... ...A party, huh? Well... Whatever. Just- If you don't mind me asking, could you, uh... cut him off sooner rather than later tonight...? I'm just- you see, I might be busy tonight, so I'd prefer it if he could come home by himself tonight, safely... ... ...Thank you. I knew you'd understand. Have a nice night."

She put the phone back on the wall and began walking away, but felt... hollow.

Of course he'd have gone to a party without telling her anything. It wasn't as if she'd be worried sick if he came home late...

Maybe he'd come home sooner if he couldn't have more, though...

Whatever. It didn't matter. He always had more lying around, anyway. In the cellar, or in his room, or in the kitchen, or wherever he could store it. He'd even tried to use her vials, more than once...

And then he'd just lie around and do nothing with her. They never really spent time together, it felt. Sometimes they'd go out and do things, social events and the like, but she craved something personal. Meaningful.

For their entire existence, had they ever really just hung out? One time, she had done a favor for Cherry Cookie, and said cookie had talked all about her plans that day with her sister, Cherry Blossom Cookie. Those two had been planning to go on a picnic together that day. And hearing about those plans, all Alchemist Cookie had thought was: Why didn't MY sibling do that with me...?

She sat down on the couch- and looking at the furniture she started to feel ashamed for not being happy. While she had specifically made sure that their home looked normal enough, it very obviously showed through that they had... more than average to spend, with how nice everything looked, shining and sparkling even within the dim lighting of most rooms.

She didn't know where he got it all from.

He didn't have to work, and she was more interested in her passions, and her working options were limited at her age anyway. No one made any money, really-

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the front door opening, and a voice shouting for her:

"ALCHEMIST COOKIE~!!"

Before she even had the opportunity to say a word or leave the room, a certain fanged Cookie slumped in. She could smell the grape juice saturating his dough. She suppressed a gag. That smell had gotten stronger than usual. She could even see a stain on his coat.

...she wasn't surprised.

"So- *hiccup* 'scuse me-" he plopped himself down next to her, while she just tried to stare off onto space. She had better things to occupy her mind with, things that her brother wasn't interested in in the slightest except for maybe that one time. She'd just escape into her mind while her body would stand in until he either had his fill of rambling to her about 'the wonders of taking breaks' or-

"Sparkling Cookie said you called him, eh...?"

Her jam ran cold. Even though he had no anger in his voice.

"..." she avoided looking at him, knowing that the best she could really say was the truth, "I-I just- you see... I was going to go work in my lab, but I... wasn't expecting you to be home this soon-"

"I mean, duh. No juice, no Vampire Cookie."

He didn't even stick around just to talk to his friends...?

"But, why's that the issue...?"

"..." Was he really that oblivious? "If you had too much, I would have to help you come home... but if I'm working, then I won't be at the phone, so I won't even know-"

"Oh, I see: You're worried about me, aren't ya?"

She was torn between two responses: 'Yes. All the time. Every day. And I don't know how much longer I can take it for.' And 'Worried that you'll try to come home yourself anyway and end up in some stupid or dangerous or stupidly dangerous situation, yes.'

Both went unsaid. Instead, just:

"Yes."

"Awww, you know what I always tell you, sis..."

Vampire Cookie leaned into his sister, affectionately wrapping an arm around her and pulling her closer to him. The warmth and love of a familial embrace could no longer reach her.

"Don't worry about everything so much! It'd do you wonders to-"

"How can I not?? I never asked to have to look after my big brother, just because HE can't put down the STUPID JUICE GLASS-"

She immediately slapped her hand over her mouth. That wasn't supposed to come out.

"..."

"...I-I'm going to my lab."

She got up with her brother's arm giving away from her surprisingly easily, given that he was usually slightly stronger than average, and walked away without looking back. 

She didn't even see the look on his face. But she could care less.

Alchemist Cookie just walked away, practically without thought, her legs carrying her all the way to the door to her lab. As she entered and shut it behind her, however, she suddenly lost her will to carry on.

...

Oh. Her eyes had sprung a leak. Embarrassing.

Alone, nothing and no one to grant her solace, something dark within her mind that had been brewing for a long time began to concoct an idea out of festered, fermented emotions:

If he was going to nourish himself on poison every day, she thought:

Two could play at that game.

It took about a week to gather the ingredients. In that time, somewhere deep down, she had been hoping that something would happen to change her mind. It was a decent amount of time, she thought, looking at the grand scheme of her pathetically short existence. 

But nothing did. In fact, she only had her current thoughts affirmed.

Not by any change, but by a lack thereof: by stagnation. 

By that stagnant grape juice her life had been drowned by.

She couldn't even really focus on or enjoy her work anymore because whenever she tried to get 'in the zone,' her thoughts would always go back to her brother.

One day, which she had spent almost entirely in her lab, her brother came home from the bar- not by himself, but being shouldered by his acquaintance Cinnamon Cookie- who interrupted her planning just to inform her that her brother was home. The nerve of that Cookie. (...she had to have gotten a call, right? She didn't leave her lab the whole day, so...)

"*sigh* How much did Vampire Cookie drink...?"

"...uh- N-nobody knows..."

"...ugh. Whatever."

No one ever kept track.

Days went by and her brother was none-the-wiser to what she was planning. Despite all the time he spent at home...

She had a hard time keeping him out of her room, though. She couldn't lock the door to her lab, so he'd always get in. But her reagent-gathering was sporadic and unplanned, she had nothing written down...

Then came the day she finally decided that she was ready.

This would be the perfect concoction. Acridly flavored. She was turning it into an experimental melting pot, a pot of completely random reagents. Not really. She was very much aiming for the most toxic ingredients she had as she grabbed them from around the room. With the test subject being herself. 

By the end, once she'd had enough of tossing things in the pot, she watched the final color end up as a vivid pink. The mixture had bubbled and fizzed during the mixing process, but now it was... completely still.

Deathly still.

It was almost tranquil, the way it sat. She stared at it for a moment, before scooping some of it into an empty flask she had laying around.

She swished it around a little, staring blankly. Nothing changed about it.

Whatever this nocuous cocktail would do, it wouldn't be anything good for her...

She knew this would be it. This would show him. He'd finally understand. This would teach him a lesson.

She wanted to -------

She slowly took the flask up to her lips.

Bottoms up.

Immediately she felt it burn as it rushed down her throat.

It hurt. It tasted foul. She made sure to get down every last drop, swallowing a steady stream of death-

Something inside her told her to spit it out. But she was set, she refused to go back: She would show him. 

Once she'd gulped it all down, she put the flask down on her work table. Already she could feel the effects: A stomachache was setting in, she felt incredibly nauseous and dizzy, a pain began to burn her chest from the inside, her eyes began to spill water and something buried within her once-logical mind was still yelling at her SPIT IT OUT-

But she couldn't. It was far too late for that.

There was no going back.

~~~

She staggered out of her room with an aching sensation filling every inch of her dough. Her head especially was beginning to throb with pain- but really, her entire body was in general agony.

Her head was spinning, to the point she was starting to see double, and this combined with the sudden shortness of her breath that she couldn't tell if it was just her panicking or if it had been yet another effect of her concoction made walking to the living room take...

She didn't know how long.

The numbers on the clock, she couldn't read them anymore. She couldn't recognize them. She couldn't process any of them. 

Her head hurt even more trying to do so.

But she eventually found her way in, and, after further difficulty bumping into the furniture, finally managed to sit herself down.

She lay back on the sofa, but even cessation of action did nothing to make breathing an easier task. She could feel her heart beating in her head chest. It was speaking over her reason. Shouting over it.

'Why even bother sitting out here? You know he's not going to notice. Even if he does, he won't be concerned. Get to work; Be productive with your time at least...'

She shook any thought from her mind the moment her brother came into the room. She felt too weak to even spend the energy talking to him, she wasn't even sure if she would be able to get a coherent word out anyway, but surely he'd at least ask how she was doing. And then when she didn't answer, he'd look at her, and then he'd notice something was wrong-

But he just walked on by.

He said something, but she couldn't focus on the words. And it didn't change the fact that he just left the room anyway.

(Maybe it sounded like "Love ya, sis" but she couldn't tell. She wouldn't have believed it, anyway.)

That woefully familiar miasma of grape juice hit her senses, worsening that already overwhelming nausea of hers. Stronger than ever. Or was it the same as usual...? Everything just felt worse like this...

'...what a joke. He just walked right past you. He probably didn't even realize you're here. He probably forgot you again.'

The leaks were back, gushing, overflowing- and she didn't have the energy to fix them. Agonizing all alone, with this toxin eating away at her system...

If it didn't crumble her tonight, she'd try again tomorrow. And the next day. And the day after that. And over and over again until he finally noticed that something was wrong...

She slept unrestfully that night, and even though the effects of the concoction had mostly subsided by the afternoon when she woke up, she still felt tired.

She planned her routine out from there: Every day, once she woke up (frustratingly, it was already difficult to keep to her usual schedule), she would immediately take a drink of the poison before she even went to eat breakfast. She'd then just let the day play out as she rapidly grew ill, and see if her brother ever asked about her health.

He didn't ask her. One day, two days, three days- she seldom spoke to him, as he'd be either in his room lazing around or indulging in the one thing he cared about in the world, or at Sparkling Cookie's- and she was just exuberant to see the look on his and Vampire Cookie's faces the inevitable day she'd come in to do her usual 'nag-and-drag' routine and at best not even have the physical strength to get her brother off the floor and at worst-

'You could crumble right in front of him and he wouldn't say a thing. He doesn't care about you. He's NEVER cared about you.'

She didn't care anymore.  That night, though- her brother staggered home with his arm over another Cookie's shoulder again. This time, however, it was Sparkling Cookie himself who accompanied the drunken Cookie through the door.

She didn't know this until the two of them walked into the living room, where she was leaning over the left side of the couch trying not to pass out from exhaustion.

"Oh. Well, hello there, Alchemist Cookie!" Sparkling Cookie smiled at her with a warmth that she couldn't feel.

"He-ey, lil sis! *hic*" Vampire Cookie gave a loose, lazy wave. "How ya doin???"

Alchemist Cookie didn't want to speak to either of them. Tiredness was the bulk of the reason, she really hadn't vocalized much at all in the past few days since her experiment had begun, but really what could she have said to either of these Cookies?

Sparkling Cookie. The Cookie that ran the juice bar. The Cookie that called her on the phone at bare minimum three times per week just to pick her brother up from said juice bar. The Cookie who did nothing but serve that disgusting, baneful juice. 

She really resented Sparkling Cookie.

And her brother... 

Immediately flopped himself next to her, as close as possible, forcing her to take in that grossly prominent grape juice smell, as if it weren't hard enough to breathe already. And lovingly, he started clinging to her side by the arm, practically leaning all of his weight into her as if he hadn't been a heavy enough burden-

His body was as cold as always. She knew to expect that from him. She was always prepared to feel that. And normally the physical cold was easy to ignore thanks to the emotional warmth. But she just couldn't feel that anymore...

She was so, so cold.

"Alchemist Cookie? You're shivering... are you alright?" Sparkling Cookie looked at her carefully and with concern, coming closer to her. She couldn't get up. "You look... unwell..."

...

She tried to say something, but all she could get out were wheezing breaths and a hacking cough she couldn't cover up.

Sparkling Cookie put his hand to her forehead. She didn't have the energy to get it away.

"Hmmm... you're not burning up, but you sure look sick. And you sound sick, too..."

"Yeeeeaaaahhhh... ya look kinda funny..."

Her brother's face was practically pressed into hers as his spacey eyes made direct contact with hersand she hoped he would notice how they had dulled to lifelessness by now as she turned her head too, and even just that caused her a splitting headache that she did her best to ignore because she wasn't going to let Sparkling Cookie see that.

"...eh, doesn't look like much. Looks like Alchemist Cookie like always. *hiccup* You're fiiiiiiine~ It's whateeeeeeever~"

He didn't notice. He didn't care.

Sparkling Cookie sighed and pried Vampire Cookie from her, gently but still causing her pain yet again. Vampire Cookie just leaned to the other side of the couch, oblivious just as he always was.

"Don't be a buzzkill, Sparkling Cookie!! *hiccup* I was all nice and comfy right there... Can't a Cookie just give his lil sis a hug in peace?? What's this world come to... *sigh*"

The look on Sparkling Cookie's face seemed disappointed but unsurprised before his attention shifted back to Alchemist Cookie:

"Thank goodness it was a slow day at the bar tonight. There's no way Vampire Cookie would be able to take care of you like this..."

If he was implying what she thought he was implying, then she wished she could just get up and run away, but she knew the air would leave her faster than it could get to her.

She didn't want him hanging around her house. Her brother had enough access to grape juice already. She wasn't going to let him have the idea of bringing bar nights into their house. She already couldn't escape them normally.

She just barely scraped together enough energy to shake her head, weakly. She tried to get up, now that her brother was off of her and couldn't weigh her down.

The dizziness set in immediately as she could barely find balance in her feet, waving her arms around trying to find a support-

Sparkling Cookie's hands approached to help stabilize her, but she slapped them away before they could make contact. Purposefully.

"A-Alchemist Cookie, let me help you to your room, please. You're clearly too weak to stand on your own..."

As she tottered towards the wall to lean against it, she glared back at him and tried to mouth her answer: 

I want you gone.

She knew he could lip-read decently enough. She knew the way she mouthed it was obvious enough.

She didn't care.

She saw his feelings on his face. In his eyes. The shock, confusion, worry. Hurt. She didn't feel bad. Not for the barkeep that drove her and her brother only further apart. Maybe a little, for the mixologist that'd always bring out some set of old alchemy textbooks from the back when she needed to hang around, that she'd practically had memorized from the amount of times she'd read them all front to back. She turned away before staggering over to the hallway. 

"G'nighty night, sis~, don't *hic* don't let the... what's the sayin again? Whatever, sweet dreams..."

She turned in early that night. She didn't have anything better to do anyway. She couldn't do anything else like this. She couldn't do alchemy anymore. But she didn't care.

She was beginning to accept the struggle to sit up or even just to open her eyes in the morning, the way her vision would still be so blurry and unfocused even after putting her glasses on that she wasn't certain they were even on her face, the lingering aches and pains that hung over every moment...

"...Alchemist Cookie...? Alchemist Cookie!"

This wasn't part of the routine.

She had been sitting there at the edge of her bed for who-knows-how-long likely a minute before she realized a voice she knew all too well was inside her room.

Vampire Cookie.

She looked over to see him leaning with his back to the side of her cauldron pot, holding one of her vials.

She just barely mustered the words with airy breaths in-between: "Wh-what are... you doing... up... this ear...ly!?" 

"Uhhh... first of all, it's 4 in the afternoon." He walked to her as she sulked in place without energy to move. "Second of all, Sparkling Cookie told me that last night, he noticed you were feeling... more than a little under-the-weather. So I came in here to check on you, and I saw... whatever that is."

He pointed over to the cauldron. Her heart skipped a beat.

"Well, I looked at it and thought that maybe you'd finally made more of that wonderful pink juice that you'd kept insisting was 'just an accident' and 'you didn't have the recipe for.' So, I couldn't help but have a little drink..."

Ah, yes, the 'Pink Juice Incident.' The one that had dyed most of the kingdom pink with love. She had been so confused that night when both her brother and Sparkling Cookie came and started thanking her profusely for "that delicious rosé juice" and "the boost in business for the day." That was the first time Sparkling Cookie had ever been over at their home. (And she wished the two of them could've been a little less... excessively romantic.)

...but her brother had been so sweet that night. When he wasn't rambling on and on about how debonair Sparkling Cookie looked in pink, he was giving her a pat on the head or saying about five times total "cheers to my brilliant sister and her alchemy!" despite no one else raising a glass with him, and she'd felt all warm and fuzzy on the inside...

It almost made her wish, in some deep selfish recess of her mind, that she could make it again. Just so he would praise her some more. She craved that validation.

...but she couldn't. And even if she could, she wouldn't. She couldn't poison him like that just for her own needs.

Wait...

He drank the poison...? He drank her concoction!?

The look on his face changed from pleasant reminiscence to light disgust.

"But that stuff tastes awful...! What did you even put in there?"

...of course he wouldn't be affected. Her potions never worked on him. Even when she��wanted them to.The 'Pink Juice' affecting him was only a result of how haphazard that entire concoction had been.

She had once sought out to transmute her brother alchemically, to create some kind of potion that could eliminate that listless juice addiction of his. And yet none of them ever worked on anything but a normal Cookie.

There was that one time his personality seemingly inverted out of nowhere, where he started dressing and acting like her for a few days and even researching alchemy (...seemingly), that she never got an explanation for, until she came up with a potion to put him back to normal...

No. She knew her potions wouldn't have suddenly started working on him. She made all her concoctions with the reference of how to affect a normal Cookie, all the way down to composition. He wasn't normal. She had a whole pile of failed attempts at a working Flavor Reversal Potion by the end of her prior experiments in futility, after all. And she used them as the basis for the cure.

...in which case, she certainly couldn't have 'fixed him' by the end of it when he encroached on her field, so how did he return to normal...?

...

Had he really just been messing with her the whole time...?

She'd somewhat started to appreciate him more after that incident. At least, she realized her problem with him was less about him and more...

Whatever. She didn't care anymore. "No juice, no Vampire Cookie," in his own words.

She tried to get up to her feet- and immediately she envied her brother's ability to levitate as the pain shot up through her legs.

"OW!!"

"Alchemist Cookie??" 

"You... you drank my... my poi- my potion...!?"

"Yeah. So?"

"...grrrr..." she didn't look at him, but felt a sudden burst of... not as much as strength as it was anger,and yet it still wasn't enough to give her hands the strength for fists, "why... why can't you... why can't you just control yourself for once!?"

It could hardly be called a shout, but she couldn't do that anymore. 

But she could spit venom just fine.

"...sis, what do you-"

"It's always drink this, drink that...!! All for you, you, YOU...!!!" She pushed him to the side and dragged her legs over to her prized pot. Looking into it, it didn't seem to have had much taken out of it, and yet she still felt furious that he had taken what was hers. As she turned back around and made sure to make direct eye contact, further infuriated by the confusion that met her, she put on a sarcastic tone and gestured sloppily as she mimicked her brother's voice: "Can't you make some juice with your alchemy?' this and 'Can you stop bothering me about alchemy when I'm trying to enjoy my juice?" that *pant*... and then you have the gall, to come into my room, and try to just drink anything that wasn't meant for you... and when it's not that, you're looking through my research notes, to see if they have anything about juice... because THAT'S ALL YOU EVER CARE ABOUT-"

Unable to keep up with her own shouting, she suddenly entered a violent coughing fit. She couldn't breathe. Vampire Cookie looked a mix of horrified and... mortified.

She had to support herself on the side of the cauldron to prevent herself from keeling over, with how light-headed she was getting. She'd started spitting venom, but she felt as if she were going to start spitting jam.

As soon as she could get a breath back in, as she saw that fanged Cookie take just a few quivering steps toward her with a face of remorseful shock, she shot a glare in his direction and finally gasped out:

"Why, does everything, have to be, about you...!? You... about your juice... is that... all I'm good for, to you...? Making juice, for you...? Taking care, of you...?? Catering, to you...!?!"

"..." Her brother stood frozen by her cold words. "...A-Alchemist Cookie, you know that's not true, you're not-"

"It's always, juice for you, juice for you..." As she gazed fondly into the contents of the cauldron, her mouth formed a twisted, broken facade of a smile: "But this, is for ME... this... makes me... feel better..."

It was funny to her, almost. The purpose of this entire experiment had once been to make her brother see what he was doing to her himself. Nourishing himself on that poison of his every day. 

That crimson venom dripping from his fangs as he bit into her life.

But she didn't care anymore. She wasn't doing this for him anymore.

She had long lost her original intent.

But really, her intentions now had always been there, lurking deep down within the darkest crevices of her mind. Just waiting to bubble to the surface.

Her routine poisonings had begun to feel almost comforting to her, in some form. Because at the very least, it was something she had control over. She could control her own degradation except she knew it was progressing at an uncontrolled rate. She was doing this to herself. No one else was. She took a sense of pride in that, a sense of power, a sense of control.

Control. She needed control. She couldn't control her own mortality, she couldn't control her brother and his behavior. This pernicious potion was the only way to control anything, she thought...

So what if her health was deteriorating? She had every right to make it deteriorate.

This wasn't right

"(Feel better...?) Is it... a cure or something...?"

The inquiry snapped her out of her blissful thought, but she didn't look at him. She just thought:

He was right about that one thing: That this was, to her, more nostrum than noxious in the grand scheme of things.

She'd prescribed it herself to her own heart, the one true remedy for its malaise: Her own personal, hand-crafted, home-brewed panacea. 

This would make everything better.

And so, she answered accordingly:

"Yes..."

"(...well, guess I shouldn't be surprised about medicine tasting bad...) Sis... I-"

"Sh-Shut up..."

Her head snapped to look at him and it hurt so much to make such a sudden movement, and she ignored the guilt that had been shining in his eyes and glared as she panted out:

"Get out... of my room... I'm done, talking... and, give me back, my vial, now...! *gasp* And then get out...!!"

She held out her hand. She would've pointed to the door with the other if she could trust her legs to keep themselves standing on their own, without propping herself up still. Vampire Cookie looked at her dejectedly before making his way toward the door, handing her the vial as he walked past but otherwise not stopping to look back...

Until he was at the door.

Just before he left through it, just before he could give her privacy, he looked back at her and said:

"...Could... could you at least... air out the room a little...? I-I just noticed that it's a little... I don't know, mephitic in here...? And you know I'll be able to smell this from-"

"Out...!!

"(...I-I'm sorry...)"

He shut the door, leaving her alone to her own devices in her ill-lit, shadow-casted room where the curtains hadn't been touched in days. She sighed.

'Finally. Almost thought he'd never go away...'

Now there was nothing keeping her from her precious elixir of death life... so-to-speak. 

She didn't want to miss a dose. She rationalized it in her head, one should never skip even just a day's dose of their medication, after all. It just wasn't healthy...

She was really becoming an addict of her own. Addicted to her own misery. Pushing away, hitting away even the very idea of relief. She didn't even do anything of worth anymore, passing through life devoid of passion, of her passion- once she had dreamed of making great discoveries, but now what knowledge could be held in a mind too tired to think...? She reminded herself so much of her brother: Drinking, doing nothing, and decaying in her room; Dozing off in dreamless sleep and waiting for her doom; Hardly ever leaving, barely living in this tomb.

What a miserable creature she was. Maybe she deserved this anyway.

Bottoms up.

Over the next few days, she'd stopped keeping at some point. Of how long it had been since she'd started her slow march toward the end experiment. The days were all congealing into a mass of constant fatigue languor, not helped by her now inconsistent sleep schedule... most of her schedule was 'sleep' now, really, or a state between sleep and awake that she couldn't tell the difference between anymore because she just couldn't do anything else and even thinking was becoming too much of an energy sink sometimes.

She didn't even really have the energy to make her meals anymore. Sometimes she was too queasy to stomach anything. Sometimes she struggled to leave her room in the first place. The times she had done so, when the hunger got too much to bear, she'd noticed that her brother had started waiting around the kitchen more. Sitting at the table sometimes, trying to coax her into joining. "Are you going to keep me waiting for lunch?" or "Don't you think a sandwich would be nice right about now...?" ...he wasn't very subtle.

...one time he got desperate enough to try cooking something. It wasn't very good, he really had no idea how to prepare a salad if burning it was ever a possibility and especially in the way he did it, but...

The only thing she could easily put down was that burning potion of hers. But she was finding the simple act of swallowing to become more and more difficult thanks to the sheer pain of everything in her body.

And it was just another late afternoon, who-knows-how-long after this had all began, after her heart had crumbled and fallen apart, and she was about to take her potion again. Up to her mouth, running down her throat...

But she had to spit it out halfway through because she couldn't swallow it.

"ACK!!"

Something was wrong. More wrong than ever before.

It hurt.

It hurt.

She'd never felt more SICK.

She started coughing, forcefully, oxygen making its escape. Her body was trying to expel something.There was something in her that needed to get out.

And it came out.

Onto the floor and her hands as she dropped her flask, causing it to shatter there with the mess of...

Strawberry jam.

Nausea, pain, vertigo- everything was making her head spin, the room was spinning all around her, her vision was doubling, tripling in an instant and she could hardly keep her balance on her feet, her head was growing light and yet it was still heavy with soreness, everything was in pain-

She fell over onto her back. The lights above her looked all the brighter and stung her eyes. She could hardly keep them open; she didn't want to. She was beginning to fade in and out of conscious, anyway. Her consciousness was beginning to fade in and out of being, anyway.

This was it. The culmination of her experiment: A date alone with death, with toxins flowing through her.

Her crumbled body would lie alone within her room, not to be found for days. Weeks. Months. YEARS.

...

She was full of fear. 

Those leaky eyes of her wouldn't stop, not when this wasn't what she had really wanted, deep down in the crumbled pieces of her heart, though she had long stopped admitting it to herself.

The one thing she'd wanted, needed, was...

Something she'd never get to see herself have, if she were to crumble now.

But she had no way to control the outcome of this. She never had. That cocktail of death had been dooming her every day she drank it. There was no going back.

'This is goodbye...'

~~~

"...Al...mi...C..ki....?... 

(Why did this have to be such a slow process...? Why hadn't she crumbled yet? Was there something keeping her alive, some force of will? Was that really powerful enough to keep her from the brink...?)

(...she didn't want to crumble, but she had gone too far to save herself. And no one else was there to save her. Now she was stuck in a slow atrophy from the inside-out. 

She could feel her insides crumbling. 

Jam and leftover poison still oozed from her mouth, dripping down her face- and within her mouth just tasted so odiously foul and yet she couldn't spit any of it out. Her eyes could hardly keep open. She was just about to let them close, finally, to plug up that incessant leakage, even if she feared she may never open them again...)

"ALCHEMIST COOKIE?!!"

(Wait...)

(There was a voice, and footsteps that, even with the ringing in her ears, were close enough to make out, and they sounded far too fast for any normal Cookie to be running at...

She knew a Cookie who wasn't normal.

"Alchemist Cookie!? ALCHEMIST COOKIE!!!! WAKE UP, PLEASE!!!!!!!"

She just barely opened her eyes again as the ringing cleared to find the face of a Cookie staring down at her, that had gotten down next to her on the floor, that, even though her vision was blurry, she could make out had crimson hair and deep purple eyes...

Vampire Cookie...? 

"Alchemist Cookie!?!?! What on Earthbread happened to you...!?!"

(He... found her. He actually found her. That shouldn't have happened, and yet...)

"..." She was scared to even try speaking. It'd be a waste of what little breath she had, anyway. It wasn't as if he'd ever listen to her, right?

...could she even speak? Could she even breathe? Was she even still...

No. No, the agony was undeniable. It said everything without words. Even if her body had broken down, even if it wouldn't work as she wished, she was very much still in it.

"...N-nevermind, you can tell me later. J-just- just relax, okay?? Just stay... calm..."

He got up and ran away- and while she couldn't get up to watch him leave, she was already feeling no less than sheer despondency. It wasn't disappointment, no- that would imply she had expected better of him, that she had had any hope left in her that he wouldn't just tell her to 'chill out' like he always did and then abandon her there to break down in desolation-

She never heard the door close.

She was ready to let the darkness take over her field of view again. She didn't hear the footsteps returning...

But she heard the sound of wings flapping towards her.

Looking as far towards the door as she could in her position, with her blurring vision she could make out some small, round blob of red flying in through the door and stopping right beside her- and in a sudden 'poof' of smoke, what was left was the taller figure of her big brother.

He came back

?

"Help is on the way, sis...! We just have to... wait right here, not move... and I'll be right by your side, I promise..."

(...oh. She didn't have a phone in her room, did she...? He had... called for help...?)

He knelt down next to her and rested his hand on her forehead. Cold to the touch, as always. But something about it was... soothing, to the slightest extent. Maybe it was because of how much she had been burning up on the inside. Maybe it was just the feeling of care that she felt within those eyes that were finally looking at her with clarity.

(...just for once, she felt grateful she didn't have a lock on her door. That she hadn't been able to shut him out. Just this once. Otherwise, she would have...)

"...Alchemist Cookie... what even happened to you, sis...? D-did the medicine you make not work? (I should've known it wasn't working, why didn't I...) What kind of sickness do you even have??"

"..." She didn't know whether or not to tell him what she had really been doing at this point. Two parts of her were conflicting, fighting for dominance over her crumbled heart: One of them held her original intentions, the other held those that had been more latent. Neither of them really felt like 'her.'

"...you know what, I'll just... leave that to Dr. Bones Cookie to figure out. That's their problem, not yours. You probably... don't even know, do you...?"

She did know. She knew what she was sick with.

She knew what made her sick.

She would've been able to tell him right now, in perfect detail, if she could just speak, she thought.

(Wait... who did he say...? She had to have misheard that, he was way too lazy to go through that much trouble...)

"(...that look in your eyes...)" He sounded confused and... guilty. Since when did he feel guilty...? (...there was that one time...) "But..."

She couldn't tell if he was shocked or in shock, but whatever it was, it left him silent for a few seconds before he said, with an uncharacteristically perturbed voice:

"A-anyway, I'm just... lucky I could smell... all of this from my room, otherwise, uh... (Heh, maybe it's a good thing you didn't open the window when I asked you to, right...? Haha...)"

(Sometimes she forgot how good his senses were... when they weren't being fogged by his favorite intoxicant. Actually, maybe that was why she had forgotten: Because they were always too numbed to function to the fullest...)

...the one thing she could clearly see was the discomfort he was trying and failing to hide, trying to keep his eyes on her and away from the red, sticky, sweet substance spread on the floor...

Unfortunately, it was also on her- splattered on her dress and body, seeping into the undersides from where she had fallen into this red, disgusting mess, and there was still some left over around her mouth that she was unable to wipe off. 

She knew her brother could sometimes get a little squeamish- it only ever showed, really, when he was 'low on juice,' though. He didn't have the capacity for any such feeling otherwise, she thought. 

...he did tend to drink more after physical exertion, though...

She saw a mild burgundy glow coming from where she knew his eyes to be

"I'm... starting to wish I didn't take Sparkling Cookie's advice right about now..." His stomach growled like some kind of animal. What did he mean by that...? "Uh... (good thing I don't like jam as much as juice, otherwise I would've... n-no, no need to think about that...) Rushing around sure works up a thirst, huh? Let's just, hope they... get here, in time..."

("like jam")

(...the alternative...)

...

Seconds passed, maybe a minute, and the two of them just stayed together in silence. It felt like an eternity. What was taking so long...?

...

Alchemist Cookie's body was so ridden with toxin at this point, she didn't know if she even had enough time to wait for them. It was so unfair. Why did she have to change her mind? Why did she have to feel so conflicted? She didn't understand herself. She didn't understand anything. 

...

"...V...Vam...pire... C-C-Coo...kie...?"

The words fought to escape her throat. Vampire Cookie immediately snapped to full focus:

"Wh-What is it, sis...??"

"...A...am, I... g...gon-gonna..."

She gasped for air as she tried to communicate. It was taking so much of her breath. She hadn't spoken in so long, too, that she wondered if her difficulty forming the words was because of her fatigued and deteriorating condition or if she just didn't know how to anymore, if that were even possible.

But with her brother's full concern attention, she choked out the final words as those annoying leaks in her eyes outflowed, for what she knew could be the final time they ever would:

"...crum...ble...?"

Why was she even asking him this?

Why was she even asking him this...?

..why did she want to hear what he had to say...? To a question that was surely unanswerable for him?

...

Was it just to see how he'd react...?

(...just to see if he'd react...?)

His eyes widened as soon as the words escaped her mouth.

"N-NO, NO!!! I-I mean, no!! Don't- That'll never happen, I won't let it...!" She could just make out the white of his fangs... as he was giving her some attempt at a comforting smile, even if she could tell despite the fading of her sight that it was faltering. "Don't even think about that, sis!! J-j-just- just relax, like I said, and everything will be fine... you hear me? You'll be fine, you'll be a-okay, please, I- I won't let anything happen to you, just... just hang in there, I... I..."

She felt a few drops of something slowly drip onto her face. That facsimile smile came to grief.  

"...I-I don't know, if I can do anything... Please, just, hang on... I can't lose you, sis..."

He was...

He was crying.

His voice was breaking up as he desperately sobbed out his pleas: "D-don't make me lose you like this, sis, not like this, not this early... p-p-please, you have to hang on, just hang on... you- you know I really- you know I love you, y'know..."

I love you

Hearing those words, she finally felt a wave of peace wash over her, gently lighting up the darkness that had veiled her world of hurt all this time.

All this time, those were the words she had been crumbling to hear. The words she had wanted, needed to hear.

The words her body was currently breaking down over.

She was beginning to wonder if it really had to come to this just to hear them.

The exhaustion had finally worn down on her too far to persevere. Her muddied eyes so dull and lifeless were coming to a close.

"A-Alchemist Cookie!?!?!?! N-No, stay with me, STAY WITH ME!!!! ALCHEMIST COOKIE!!!!!"

Her hearing was fading away, and the last thing she heard was:

"...I need to go make another call, or three..."

"...when is she going to wake up?? IS she going to wake up!?!"

"S-slow down, slow down!! I'm doing everything I can!!"

Alchemist Cookie's eyes just barely cracked open. It was so... bright. 

Was she...?

...she was lying in a bed, under the covers- she could recognize that feeling. She wasn't wearing her usual clothes, either- she couldn't feel those. And the smell of the room was very... antiseptic. And... like ice cream...?

She was still in pain, she was still sick, but it felt... less so than before. 

(...she could hear a beeping sound...)

Her head felt lighter, but not light-headed. More so, as if a weight had been taken off... 

Her hat was gone.

She was...

...finally beginning to see clearly...

It was so brightly lit, the entire room. Bright and clean, white and lighter blues all over the room... 

After a few blinks, she began to make out her surroundings in more detail: There was a sink in one corner, a chair and a table in the other. Looking down without moving her head she saw she was... definitely in a bed, just as she'd felt. With calming blue covers pulled up to her waist.

...She was wearing some kind of pale blue outfit with darker dots. She couldn't feel much covering her arms beyond the shoulders.

Finally budging her head just slightly to the left, ignoring the aching that still followed her head's movement (yet it still somehow still felt less than how much it had hurt to move before), she saw her arm lying out to the side, and...

There was... an IV tube, hooked up to...

Some kind of... heart-shaped plastic bag...? A bag full of... red, on some kind of white and cyan-striped stand, hooked on by... bones?

She heard the beeping coming from next to the head of her bed, out of her field of view, but she could tell what it sounded like. (She wasn't sure if it sounded... right or not... She wouldn't be surprised.)

There was only one place this could be:

Dr. Bones Cookie's clinic... which was more like a fun-sized hospital, really. It was located at the opposite corner of the kingdom as her and her brother's home (Dr. Bones Cookie had expressed their wishes to have it built more toward the center of the kingdom when they moved in, but there wasn't any room.)

And looking to her right, she saw her brother and the doctor themself chatting away... closer to 'frantic bickering' than 'chatting.'

"C'mon, Doc, just tell me she's going to be okay, tell me she'll wake up-"

"H-hold on!! I'm a doctor, not a miracle-worker! And, to be frank, a miracle's the exact kind of thing we need right now..."

They looked down at their clipboard as her brother crossed his arms, seeming uncharacteristically on-edge. The doctor looked over in her direction, and...

"...Oh, my. Well, we officially have a miracle on our hands...!"

Vampire Cookie turned over towards her, locking eyes with her, and gasped.

Alchemist Cookie could immediately see her brother's dark eyes light up with emotion like a moonlit night sky through a window, despite the bags under his eyes that she never would have imagined him with (at least his eyes were their normal hue). His mouth grew into a smile so visibly brimming with... elation and relief. He didn't seem to be able to hold back:

"ALCHEMIST COOKIE!!!"

Vampire Cookie transformed in a poof and flew right at her, rattling the poor doctor's bones.

"C-CAREFUL!!" Dr. Bones Cookie cried. "Bats are known for spreading diseases, you know...!!"

Her brother ignored them and landed next to her head with maybe a little too much impact (but it didn't hurt more than she could ignore), immediately snuggling into her. That round, red juice bat with pointed ears and sleepy eyes- his body was as cool as ever, even in this form...

And yet it was just barely warm enough that she almost smiled. Almost.

"You're okay! You're actually okay....!"

"...I'm... here...?"

Dr. Bones Cookie grabbed her brother by the wing, lifting him up and away from her. Standing right next to the side of the bed, they held the bat up to their eye socket level, squinting at him with an annoyed look.

"Be careful!!" they warned.

"Well, sorry..." Vampire Cookie said sarcastically before poofing back into his usual form, which visibly startled the poor doctor. "But my dear sister almost crumbled..." he continued, and shrugged, "can't I celebrate that that didn't happen...?"

The doctor pointed at him with their pen and said: "A-as long as you don't touch her until I'm certain her condition is stable!! Do you even realize how brittle her dough was back there!? I'm surprised she didn't crumble before-"

"Okay, okay!! *sigh* I'll just, stand here, just... let me talk to her for a second, okay...?"

"..." They said nothing, but backed up slightly, nodded their head, and motioned as if to say go ahead before turning away to look at their clipboard papers. Probably something to do with her.

Alchemist Cookie looked at her brother, and he looked at her- eye to eye in complete reticence, and the uncertainty hanging in the air applied pressure, for someone to make the first move. She couldn't move her limbs, and her mouth tasted bittersweet. She just lay there, trying to communicate with her eyes to just go on and say it- whatever it was he had to say.

Her brother's expression became more somber as he finally shattered that tension looming between the two of them:

"Sis... why did you do it?"

"...?"

"Why did you..." the words came out of his mouth with an unsteady, shrinking tone: "poison... yourself?"

...it wasn't possible. He'd thought it was medicine. She'd told him it was medicine.

"...you... know...?"

"..."

The two of them just stared at each other, in seconds on end of uncomfortable eye contact and silence except in the midst of it she could hear Vampire Cookie mumble under his breath, something like "where did that spark in your eyes go...?" (and... she didn't know how to answer.)

"...Sparkling Cookie saw some... things around your room... put two and two together."

"...?" Sparkling Cookie had been there...? When??

Seeming to read her confusion, he went on: 

"...I... called him, Herb Cookie and Mint Choco Cookie over when you passed out... I-I didn't know what else to do, they know more about that 'healing' stuff than I do..."

(...That was how she made it, wasn't it...?)

"...T-turns out, Sparkling Cookie couldn't really do anything for you since you were... not awake, you know. Can't give a drink to an unconscious Cookie and all..."

She was glad he didn't get to. The thought of it made her sick to her stomach... 

(How was her stomach faring...?)

"So, he ended up, uh, looking around your room, 'cause we didn't, uh, kn-know what happened, and, uh... yeah."

He seemed... increasingly unsettled the more he recounted. She had a feeling she knew why.

"...He... said he recognized some of the things you had in there from what he read in some books. I think he meant the books he keeps checking out of the library for ya, 'cause he... said you absolutelywould have known, what those things would do to you, s-s-so..."

 "..."

She didn't really know what to say to him. She hadn't planned for anyone to recognize her reagents and their uses... or lack thereof. She didn't have an excuse planned. 

Vampire Cookie stared at her, contemplating, before he took a deep breath and said: 

"...why did you do it? Why would you ever... do that, to yourself...? I just- I, I don't understand..."

She could see the tears beginning to pile up at the corners of his eyes, and it... still perplexed her, to some degree. As she readjusted to speaking, she blankly queried:

"You... care...?"

"...th-that shouldn't be a question..."

Alchemist Cookie looked away: "I... thought you didn't."

"...Wh-wh-what made you... what made you... think that...?"

(Her eyes looked back at him again. The look on his face... why did he seem so... upset?)

"..."

This was it, this was the moment she had been waiting for this entire time: The moment when she would look her brother dead in the eyes and finally divulge to him the disease that had been plaguing her mind, say the words, "you did."

"You did this to me."

...

But as much as it burned the back of her throat, the words just never came. And her head ached with the thoughts that she couldn't express.

She couldn't bring herself to say that.

She felt something burst in her eyes again. Embarrassing; there was no way to hide it this time.

Why did things always have to be so UNFIXABLE...?

"A-Alchemist Cookie, you're... y-you're crying..."

"I-I... I..." The words were so, so hard to form. Nothing felt right. Everything felt wrong. She felt so, sowrong. She couldn't take being wrong. But... her feelings had to come out. And they came out; she finally managed to spit it all out: "...I just... I couldn't... I couldn't take it anymore... I can't take it anymore..."

"...take... what...?"

She sniffled: "...you're always... it's always grape juice, it's all... it's everything to you, it's everywhere,every day, all the time, and I... I-I just feel like I'm nothing to you... I have to take care of you, when you get drunk and that's all the time... you can never take care of yourself or come home by yourself or do anything yourself... and you pass out and say weird things and you forget your own name and you forget my name a-and-"

Her voice was collapsing in on itself like a buckled floor, but she fought weary and bleary through the instability:

"A-a-and that's all I ever... all we ever do together is... because you're always so... intoxicated... it's like you forget about everything else... you forget about me... and you're always just..." She was breathing so hard that it hurt, "you never spend real time with me. It's always either at the bar o-or, or when you're at home you're still just drinking and drinking and..."

A heavy acid rain was drowning her voice and face. She didn't know if she was able to purge everything that had ravaged her on the inside, if she could get everything out in the right words, if her words would be right at all...

But... those feelings needed to get out.

She needed to get those feelings out.

It wasn't wrong just to feel, was it? When these feelings were designed to tell that something was wrong.

"I just... just... wanted, f-for you... to care about me... I-I couldn't take that, that... that I didn't matter as much, to you..."

"Alchemist Cookie..." he was trying to cover his face with his hands, she could see the glimmers of guilt in his tears, but he didn't look away from her. Contrarily, his stare became much more fixed as the words solemnly spilled from his heart mouth: "...you... you mean more to me than I can... I-I don't know what I'd do without you-"

"I know, s...someone has to ta-ake care of you... that's, the problem... I have to, but I can't... I can't take it..."

"Th-that's not what I... (crumbs, I didn't mean it like-)"

"I can't... I can't keep taking care of you... I'm sick of it... I'm sick of grape juice... I'm sick of seeing you drunk all the time... I'm sick of LIVING LIKE THIS...!" She coughed, but she could still breathe. She persisted: "I- I- I can't- I can't... I can't keep doing this... for the rest of my life... knowing that I'm going to crumble before you ever will eventually and then who will take care of you after that??" She took a deep breath. "I-I-I... I'm just a normal Cookie and you're not... Wh-why do we have to be so unequal...?Wh-why- why do I have to be to be so INADEQUATE...!?"

"D-don't say that, STOP!!!" He slapped his hands over his mouth immediately, his eyes widening and looking down at them. After seconds of evident processing, slowly returning to meet her gaze again, his next words were immediately at a lower volume and gentler tone: "...Please..." He almost reached one hand out at her before stopping himself, "Alchemist Cookie, you're my little sister, you shouldn't beworrying about... stuff like this, you shouldn't be thinking anything like this, you're... you're too young for that, you... you're..."

His hands went back up to his face again, this time burying himself enough to muffle his voice just slightly.

"You're too young to crumble... I don't- You have a whole life ahead of you, you have- you have so much time left, why would you... wh-why cut it short...?" 

(...why was that his fixation...?)

"..." the waterworks still welled in her eyes, but her voice grew stabler yet also quieter, colder just like his hugs. But she couldn't move. "...I just... wanted things to change. I wanted to be happy."

"...you weren't happy..."

It wasn't a question.

Vampire Cookie folded his arms, eyes cast down, tears trickling and... contemplative.

"...I... didn't even realize... I-I mean, I guess I started to-"

(Started to...?)

She cut him off:

"Of course you didn't notice, with how happy you are all the time. You're really lucky, aren't you? Life's so good to you all the time... Everyone wants to be friends with you, you just have everything and you never have to work for it, you never have to care about your health because you're special... and you tell me I need to stop worrying about things, but I have to worry about you because you don't worry about anything, but I- I need to worry about you because you'll probably get into something stupid while you're drunk or just stop... stop taking care of yourself everywhere that matters and, I can't let you do that, I can't let you be alone when someone has to take you home and... and..."

She felt as if a world's worth of weight was upon her, a world of pain that she was forced to live in. Alone.

"I just don't understand, why you get to be so happy, when I don't..."

"...I'm not."

"...wh-what?"

"Alchemist Cookie, I... it's not like that, but..." as he stared into her eyes again, he sighed: "...I don't never worry about anything, I'll admit it. The truth is... I'm... always kinda worried... sorta... you know..."

He looked over to something out of her field of view- by the head of her bed. It was where she heard the beeping sound coming from.

"...you're always working yourself so hard, sis... too hard... you basically never relax, I have to remind you to sleep half the time. You think I don't get worried about you...?" He paused before continuing: "I... kinda always felt like something like this would happen someday- not the same thing, but... that you'd just give up taking care of yourself because you're so dedicated to your work. Or that one day I'd just come into your room and see that some experiment gone wrong did you in, and..."

(His breathing hitched...?)

"...I-I... I can't lose you like that..."

"..." Alchemist Cookie blinked away any remaining droplets. Still processing what she was hearing, her only words were: "You're going to lose me eventually..."

"...I- I know. I don't like to- I don't want to think about that... any of this... I-I've always tried to not think about it..."

"...is that why you drink juice all the time?"

He attempted to mumble something under his breath- but he was just loud enough and he was just close enough that she could just barely make it out:

"(I don't know. Maybe more than I need to, I guess...)"

"..."

...

As the saying went: "The first step is admitting you have a problem."

He started speaking clearly again, looking back to her yet another time- and he looked just a little more regretful than even before:

"...I know it's nothing like... what you've been going through, I'm not trying to compare that, I just... want you to know that I do care about you, sis, I just... gosh, when you yelled at me that one time- what was it, two weeks ago now?- I knew something was wrong, but I didn't know it was this much-"

"You mean... the time I yelled at you, in my room...?"

(...she felt just a small pang of guilt about the intensity of her ire in that moment...)

"Hmm? Oh, that was... that too I guess, but I mean earlier than that. Where was it again? Living room, I think...? Yeah, that! Probably two and a half weeks ago, I think..." 

"...that was..."

...two and a half weeks ago...?

...she hadn't even been poisoning herself for that long, and things had escalated this far...?

How potent was that solution of hers...? 

...

Despite the nagging of her own insatiable interest, she knew that, perhaps, this was a knowledge that was better of not known, to herself at the very least. For her own sake. She didn't want to stare into that abyss again.

...

Two and a half weeks ago. She had outpoured her anger two and a half weeks ago.

Two and a half weeks ago, her feelings had finally boiled over. She had gotten to concocting her plan to poison herself with that sick solution...

And for what? For what had all of this been?

Would this have really been the solution to all her problems?

...

If she hadn't survived to explain everything to Vampire Cookie, he wouldn't have realized a thing. He wouldn't have stopped drinking grape juice. He probably would've started drinking more of it just to cope with the loss...

...

Two and a half weeks ago.

Somehow, he had kept track of the time.

And he remembered. He remembered her outburst.

He remembered her.

...

While she was beginning to think back on those weeks, on everything she hadn't paid attention to before, her brother kept on talking:

"That was when you told me you didn't want to, uh, look after me..." he hugged his arms around himself and looked down to the side, embarrassment showing through the regretful smile he was trying to put up, "I, uh, didn't even really get it fully until I was talking to Sparkling Cookie one night, when I went out... and uh, he told me that he always calls you to take me home when I, can't do it myself... and I didn't even realize how often you had to do that, I thought it was just a few times, haha..." his laugh didn't really sound amused as he brought one hand up to his face, "...I didn't even... remember half of those times..."

"...yeah. I can guess."

"And I thought that was all that you meant. So, I told him to stop calling you, and-"

"You... got your friends to take you home, didn't you...?"

That night Cinnamon Cookie had carried her brother home, then the other time that Sparkling Cookie did the same... How could she have been so oblivious...? 

"...I... didn't even realize you had done that... I even talked to them, but..." her eyes turned away from him, "I... guess I was just so focused on how you were still drinking grape juice, I didn't feel like anything was changing..."

"...I...is that why you did it, then...? Above everything else? Because I have to drink juice?"

"..."

She fell more silent than she would have expected to be at this question. She was imagining, over and over again in her head, the various reasons she could give for why she had done what she did- many of which had something to do with grape juice- and the exact ways to lay it out, to get the perfect emotional response, but...

No. None of it felt right, really. None of it was perfect.

Even now, with them spilling everything within their hearts to each other- none of it was perfect. She knew she had so much more to say, and he probably had more too, but the flow of conversation would carry them away before they could get it all across, when they weren't holding themselves back. How long would it take of conveying these ill-defined feelings in words, over and over again, until they finally understood each other? Would it be days? Weeks? Months? Years?

"...I-I don't know..."

Really, that was both true and untrue- she had a multitude of reasons, compounding upon each other to poison her mind- but...

None of her reasons were right. Nothing. The action she had taken in and of itself was just so wrong, there was no way she could justify it anymore. Why had she done that to herself!? It hadn't done any good in the end. Things had been changing for the better around her, Cookies had been caring for her well-being, and it was exactly because she had been so dedicated to her own self-destruction that she had not seen any of it...

(...she really needed to apologize to Sparkling Cookie, didn't she...?)

And to her brother...

She knew it would be foolish of her to tell him, "it's because you don't care."

Because she knew that was wrong.

She was seeing that on full display right now.

She had seen it the entire time.

But it was only now beginning to click.

"...you were... you were actually trying to care for me when I... started doing this, weren't you? When you checked in on me... and I yelled at you..."

"Oh. Yeah. Uh, when Sparkling Cookie told me you were... 'sick,' he pretty much... banned me from the juice bar, temporarily. And told me to cut back on the juice until you were better. And... I knew he was probably right by that. How was I supposed to take care of you if I couldn't even take care of myself?Uh... yeah. But I don't really know how to 'cut back,' so I kinda... went back and forth on too much and too little. Left me really thirsty a lot. Thought it'd be fine to try and look for a drink around your room that one time, but... (gosh, the stuff you said there was... I probably should've seen all of this coming...) I didn't want to..."

He seemed to grow more uncomfortable talking about this, scratching the back of his head nervously.

"I knew I wouldn't be able to resist. So, I just... decided to stay out of your room, after that. You know how I get when I'm... 'low on juice,' right...?"

(He hadn't kept trying to check up on her in her room after that, but she had noticed him hanging out around her more anyway, the few times she left the room. He had... tried to make sure she was nourishing herself...

...Those two and a half weeks, he really had been able to tell she was sick... No thanks to any toxicant, but the few times she'd communicated with other Cookies... and he had done what he could with what he was given, each time...

She really never had needed to dance so close with death, had she...?)

"..."

He always drank more after physical exertion.

But she could only really think of one time she had seen him get ravenous

The day he became abnormal.

Split wood on the floor

Spilled puddles of red

Desperation dripping with hunger

Violet consumed by burgundy 

"...yes. I don't want to think about that..."

"...am I really that scary...? Well, I guess if Dr. Bones Cookie's a good metric to judge by, then... (heh...)"

Alchemist Cookie's eyes moved to the other Cookie in the room. She could see that Dr. Bones Cookie was trying to let the two have their moment and focus on whatever papers were on their clipboard, but couldn't do much to hide the anxiousness on their face looking back and forth between those and the siblings.

She knew that they'd always expressed their own concerns about Vampire Cookie and his condition, but they certainly seemed to know more about the type of Cookie he was, about his needs, about how he functioned in general... but Vampire Cookie would rarely ever show up for scheduled checkups. Alchemist Cookie always did for her own, and she... hadn't considered asking them about him. 

...how had she missed something so obvious?

(...she'd been missing obvious things for the past two and a half weeks...)

"...Dr. Bones Cookie?"

"H-huh!?"

The doctor, startled at the mention of their name, almost dropped their clipboard but managed to catch it in the nick of time. Vampire Cookie tilted his head, but said nothing.

"G-Good Tingly-Bones! Is there something wrong???" the doctor asked as they checked through their papers, making sure they were still in order. (Alchemist Cookie was dreading when she would have to hear whatever those said...)

"No. I just... I know my brother has to drink juice to sustain himself, right...? But... is that really true? Is there really nothing else he can-"

They immediately sighed, as Vampire Cookie shifted uncomfortably in place but didn't say a word. They started to explain:

"Err, your brother is an... interesting Cookie. His dough contains around 10% strong grape juice- that would be strawberry jam in any other grown Cookie, but-"

"He's different. In a lot of ways. I know already."

She didn't intend for that to sound so bitter.

"...w-well," they continued, "they don't exactly put too much about vampires in medical literature, so what I do know is limited, but... normally they have to drink the jam of other desserts... but if his body's composition substitutes juice for jam, then-"

"My brother substitutes juice for jam as well..."

Vampires were jamsuckers- She'd heard about that. She'd never seen her brother personally do such a thing... except in a few scuffles, but that was just the way he fought dessert monsters and such- he didn't do such things recreationally, and never to another Cookie.

...But what she saw in movies and read and novels, heard about in horror stories, about Cookies like him, the things she tried to deny due to the occasional discrepancy and knowing her brother wasn't a monster...

How could she keep denying her brother's namesake at that point...?

Vampire Cookie turned his back to the other two, as if he didn't want any attention paid to him. 

(...they were kinda talking about him as if he weren't right there in the room, weren't they...?)

Dr. Bones Cookie paid him no mind:

"That's my theory, at least. But make no bones about it, he certainly does have it in him to drink jam if he's desperate enough..." they shot a mildly disgruntled look in her brother's direction, "Never set up a jam transfusion with a starving vampire in the room, if I've learned anything..."

She could see shivers travel up her brother's back, and his face turned redder than its usual tinge- but the way it burned his cheeks was unfamiliar compared to the drunken flush she was accustomed to seeing him with. He whispered a "sorry" under his breath with his eyes pointed towards her.  Dr. Bones Cookie's focus appeared to shift before Alchemist Cookie could bargain ask any further questions:

"Speaking of which: Vampire Cookie, I need to discuss a few things with you..."

Dr. Bones Cookie pulled Vampire Cookie to the side- or at least, they tried to. Vampire Cookie wasn't so easily moved. 

"What things...?"

"Err, concerning the patient. I-I know this isn't my field of expertise, but I... I just have a few concerns, and, um..." the doctor glanced over at Alchemist Cookie for a moment, and then returned their attention to Vampire Cookie as they lowered their voice to a whisper that was still not low enough for her not to hear: "(have you thought about signing her up for counseling with Chamomile Cookie...??)"

"..."

Vampire Cookie seemed more compliant after that. The two stepped a bit further away- just far enough that as they talked to each other quietly, she couldn't hear a single word they were saying. Probably something about her that they didn't want her to hear just yet, she assumed...

(...counseling... they were going to put her into counseling...

Something about that knotted up her stomach further than it had already been twisted. Counseling was for Cookies who needed help, for Cookies who cried. Alchemist Cookie didn't need help, she didn't cry.

...

Oh, who was she even kidding at this point?

Gosh, she was really SICK, wasn't she...?)

...she was caught between a rock and a hard place.

Juice or jam.

...

Nothing could ever be perfect, could it? He seemed so deeply discomforted with just the sight of strawberry jam, and of course he'd be: Hungering for the lifeblood of another living being, that was... a disturbing idea, even to her. It wasn't even up for consideration.

Neither of them would be happy like that. 

She didn't want him to be unhappy like that. 

...in the back of her head, she did ponder what life would be like like that, if he drank jam instead of juice. But the reveries of her brother being more active, more aware, more... there were quickly broken by visions of him sucking the life out of other Cookies' necks like a scene right out of a horror movie.

She didn't think he would hurt her... maybe. Otherwise she probably wouldn't be alive right now.

(...once she thought about it, what she pictured of her brother acting ideally... wasn't even that different from the way he was acting right now, or... even how he acted normally... when he wasn't too drunk, at least...)

That grape juice aroma that had lingered around their lives, it was by no means a good thing. It would've been so much better if they could just be rid of it entirely. But they couldn't have that. Life would never be perfect. But for what they could do, for what they did have, it was just something they had to put up with.

'It could've been worse' was never the best thought to turn to- but even it had its uses...

...

It could've been worse.

He could've been so much worse

He could've been like those vampires from the movies and myths, cruel and uncaring and violent- some cold count, creeping around the darkness, hunting unsuspecting Cookies like a predator stalking its prey...

But for all his flaws, all his shortcomings, everything he could improve on, everything he should improve on...

He cared about her. Enough to try cutting back on juice by himself. Enough that he cared about her happiness even when he didn't know the full extent of her pain. 

He came all the way out here to the hospital just to be by her side, when normally such a thing was too much work to him. He tried to respect her boundaries when he saw it was getting to her. He tried to cook for her, when he had never touched a stove, because she wouldn't eat...

She'd thought he wouldn't have cared if she were to crumble right before his eyes. 

Those same eyes had dampened her crumbling face with a gentle rain of tears as he said "I love you..."

(He loved her enough that he was willing to put in the effort to make a change.

He didn't really know how to do it the best way, and maybe things could never go as far as she'd have dreamed of, but... maybe, they could work it out...)

"Alchemist Cookie?"

She had been lost in her thoughts for long enough that the other two had finished their conversation and walked back to the side of her bed. Dr. Bones Cookie was trying to address her while her brother was standing next to them... and while she couldn't read his expression, it didn't seem very joyous.

"...what is it?"

She could read their deliberation in the stuttering of false starts, of "well"s and "you see"s, as they struggled for words, nervous sweat running down, before they at last got a sentence going:

"(How do I say this...) S-so, from the jam test results and what your brother said was found in your room... Good Tingly-Bones, kid, you shouldn't even be alive right now!! H-How much of that mixture of yours did you drink!?"

She wasn't shocked by their disbelief- she'd felt about the same way, after all. But what surprised her, thinking about how to answer their question... was the answer she ended up giving:

"I-I... don't know... I think it was... I drank it every day, for... a week, and a half...?"

(Two and a half weeks didn't leave much up to interpretation. But it still just felt too short... but... no, no, things had really just deteriorated that quickly. And that was what confounded her so. And yet it all blurred together in her head and dragged on for so long...)

"...how much of it every day, exactly...?"

"...I-I wasn't keeping track, I just filled the vial in my room, I think..."

She could hardly fathom the lack of plan or reason in what she had no way of denying had been her own fully conscious actions. She wasn't even sure what to think of herself at this point.

Dr. Bones Cookie sighed, murmuring something about 'treatment' before speaking with a resigned voice: "I-I'll just... keep it brief: That concoction contained some of the most dangerously toxic substances known to Cookiekind... and those substances are all over your body right now. Most of them don't even have known antidotes...! I've given you what I could, but most of what I can do is treat the symptoms until this clears out of your body on its own... (hopefully). You'll be staying here until I'm certain you're in a good condition...!"

None of this was anything she didn't either already know or couldn't have figured out on her own. And yet, hearing the words said out loud, she felt the weight of her circumstances really sink in.

...but one thing stood out to her, regardless:

"...I-I can't go home...?"

"Your body can't fight this on its own. I-it's going Tibia LONG road to recovery, but with proper care... (well, let's just hope your condition stays stable, at least...)."

Alchemist Cookie frowned. Did they really have to try lightening the mood like that...?

"...Dr. Bones Cookie...? How long will it be...?"

"...my best guess right now is at least a month..."

(...that didn't sound like a concrete estimate...)

Vampire Cookie pulled his cape over his face. 

"D-D-Doc said that..." he started with a lachrymose voice, "that no one can really do anything but hope for the best right now. Nothing else. We c...can't control what happens, s-so..."

He turned away and began walking towards the door sulkily.

"I should get going, visiting hours are over. I'm taking too much of their time anyways..."

It didn't even feel as if it had been that long. Were visiting hours that short? Or... how long had he been waiting for her to wake up...?

The sound of his footsteps as he trudged to the door made Alchemist Cookie feel... something that called her to ask, just to make sure:

"You'll come back tomorrow, right...?"

He stopped just before he could touch the handle, at first seeming completely frozen for a few seconds before he at last responded:

"...y-yeah, of course...! Just..." he looked back at her, "don't go anywhere! Okay?"

And with that, he opened the door and staggered out, letting it slam shut behind him.

The weeping was loud enough she could still hear it, unmoving for minutes until finally fading away.

And thus, Alchemist Cookie was left to intensive care. 

Not exactly the intensive care unit, but she couldn't be picky like this.

"...Dr. Bones Cookie?" Alchemist Cookie said. "...when do you think I'll be able to move, or... touch things.... or do anything again?

"Hmm... well... you're able to communicate. That's a good start."

The recovery process over the next few days didn't have a lot to do, with her being stationary as Dr. Bones Cookie managed her condition and kept it from worsening. Even just the fact she hadn't been able to eat for those days was causing problems; Dr. Bones Cookie explained to her that had her brother not told them at the scene about her malnourished state, they would've immediately put her onto parenteral nutrition... which would've triggered refeeding syndrome. She had to be slowly and carefully replenished, gradually increasing back to normal amounts... via catheter in the arm. It wasn't even certain if the damage to her stomach could heal in full.

(She asked them to give it to her while she was asleep. She wanted to be able to move freely the moment she recovered)

Despite this lack of action, her second day of regained consciousness was... not what she would call boring, with a curiosity like hers. She was constantly asking questions about her condition, and when she wasn't doing that, she was thinking over it herself. After all, medicine was a key facet of alchemy.

Would she ever be able to do alchemy again? Was she still even Alchemist Cookie without that? She didn't have anything else that had defined her at this point. She didn't know what to think of herself.

As promised, Vampire Cookie came to visit, more punctual than she had ever seen him been in her life. He seemed a bit less 'out of it' than when he had left, from the moment he was allowed into the room. But he still seemed a little off, the way he was so obviously catching his breath, sweating, as if he had ran all the way there from their home.

...

That was it, wasn't it.

That wasn't it for the odd behavior, though- as soon as he could breathe, he immediately went on questioning her about how the doctor was treating her (well), how comfortable she was (as much as she could be), if she was doing any better (...)...

...he was more alert than usual, more agitated. It was apparent to her that he was still depriving himself, even though she was no longer in his care. He kept pulling his cape over his mouth whenever he wasn't speaking, and when he did speak, she couldn't help but notice that faltering tone of his voice. That barely noticeable reddish tinge tainting his eyes, threatening to consume

...he seemed hesitant to stand too close to her. Whenever even just a hand or a foot would cross some theoretical line, he'd pull it back immediately, as if he couldn't be near her. 

...

That conversation she had had with Dr. Bones Cookie must have really gotten to him, hadn't it? Everything she had said that day in general, to the point he's ended up in a situation like this: denying himself the satiation that would give himself security here.

"I-I'm sorry if I'm a bit... antsy today, I just... i-it's just been really stressful with everything happening, I just-"

His stomach grumbled, shutting him up and putting a look of apprehension clear on his face. He backed a few steps away from her. 

She rolled her eyes, just as a gesture to tell him that his fears were all in his mind: He wouldn't do anything to her; it simply wasn't in his nature.

She trusted him.

She wasn't used to doing that, now that she thought about it. But after what happened in her lab, she felt she could start.

...

The following days of slow recovery, each and every one, he would come in like this. Every single day, for every last minute allotted to visit, he would keep his distance from her, yet still question her as much as possible. She could tell this was eating him up, but she didn't really know how to address it. She didn't want him to be unhealthy.

"...just remember to feed yourself, silly," she said abruptly one day as he left.

"Huh? O-of course I will, I haven't been... d-don't worry about it, sis. It's your turn to relax, anyways."

"But-"

The door cut her off. She made a mental note to shift her research into vampirism the moment she could pick up a book again. Whenever that day would be. If that day would ever come. Every single night, as she was dragged down into sleep, her greatest fear was that she wouldn't rise the next day. 

It was the very next day that she would finally regain the strength to move. She didn't try to sit up without the support of the bed- she wasn't sure she was quite ready for that yet- but she could finally lift her arms. Every movement ached, and it was clear her mobility still had a lot to improve on, but it was there. 

After some discussion and a close examination of her dough, Dr. Bones Cookie finally supposed they could relent on the 'no touch'

She saved her energy for when her brother arrived, and the moment he sauntered in looking in much better shape than when she had last seen him. He seemed less tired, no signs that he had ran- probably started walking sooner, given he still arrived on time- and he immediately was much more comfortable standing close to her. His eyes were perfectly purple, too. Calling him out must have made him get himself together, she supposed.

It was almost jarring to see how much more relaxed his demeanor had become, however.

"Alchemist Cookie, hey! What's up? How's it been?"

...well, he was acting more like his usual self, at least. Casually leaning against the air, floating next to her with his arms behind his head- it was the grape juice smell that confirmed it to her, though: He really had listened to her this time.

She felt nihility creeping up on her. Even though she had been the one to tell him to do it, she still felt this bitter-tasting fear in her that now she had been stable for long enough, things would just go back to the way they had been before. That he would forget this had ever happened. That he'd stop caring again...

"I'm still stuck here. Not much has changed... except for this:"

After some struggle to muster up her energy, she lifted her arms up and held them out and open. And immediately, Vampire Cookie gasped:

"Wait... does this mean what I think it means...?"

He tossed a look at Dr. Bones Cookie, who, after a moment's pondering, seemed to realize what he was referencing and answered:

"W-well, I suppose so... but if you're going to do that again, then you at least need a SHOWER first for sanitation's sake-"

"I washed my hands, that's good enough for me!!"

"H-hey!!!"

Paranoid as they were well-meaning, the doctor tried to grab hold of his cape, but he had already poofed into his smaller form before they could stop him (and all they could do was sigh in resignation). And before Alchemist Cookie could react, she found herself hit square in the chest by the force of what could've easily been mistaken for a baseball if he hadn't been so soft. 

She took the smaller juice bat into her hands gently, holding him out in front of her. The smile on his face was almost infectious... 

"You look so stupid right now, you know."

She couldn't help it. It was such a big, dumb smile.

A big, dumb, warm and loving smile.

"You really..."

Her mouth twitched and her eyes softened. He really was that happy to see her get better. He really cared that much.

"You..."

She took him up closer to her face, and as he nuzzled against her cheek...

She smiled.

She hadn't had a true, happy smile on her face in so, so long.

She hadn't felt truly happy in so, so long.

She had forgotten what it had felt like, to feel secure in the world, that others loved her; to feel that love as it existed right next to her in all its warmth without obstruction or oblivion; to feel all warmth of emotion through the cold of the physical body. She felt that emptiness being filled.

He felt warm to her. She didn't mind if he was cold to the dough. The warmth and love of a familial embrace had finally reached her, and she felt happier than she could ever remember being in recent times. Maybe ever. She didn't know anymore, and she didn't need to; It didn't matter. She was just so happy to have this moment, to have her brother here with her, to be here right now and to experience this joy.

This love.

"...sis? You're crying all over me, y'know... are you alright?"

"Y-yeah, this is... *sniffles* I've never been better..."

She hugged him close to her chest, with all of her limited strength. As limp as her arms were... perhaps that was a good thing: She likely would've crushed him otherwise. She was squeezing him as if she'd never gotten a hug before, as if he hadn't given her one a million times over. 

...he had. But this time, it just felt different. She wasn't being clung to obnoxiously by a tipsy Cookie; this was a genuine moment of reciprocal tenderness, where everything felt just right.

This was something personal. Meaningful. 

"...well, I'm not complaining."

"I-I can't remember the last time I was this happy..."

She felt all warm and fuzzy inside...

She felt so happy to be alive.

"(...maybe Dr. Bones Cookie was right...)"

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

(She had a feeling she knew what he meant... and maybe she didn't have to worry about it. It would spoil the moment, anyways.)

Her recovery seemed to go by a lot faster after this, with her gradually regaining strength in her limbs even if the pain remained. Her brother continued visiting everyday, and now she was the one asking him questions- making sure he was still taking care of his own needs (even if he looked like it already), that they would be hanging out as much as possible the moment she was out of there (she already had several activities planned out), and...

With his little juice bat self nestled in her hair, she asked:

"...why didn't you ever tell me you weren't happy?"

"...hmm?"

"I remember what you said, you know. You said you aren't really that happy."

"...well, why didn't you ever tell me you're never happy?"

"..."

"Besides-"

"I just didn't think you'd care, I guess."

"...Alchemist Cookie-"

"B-but, you always talk about how much you love your life, right...? How do you love your life if you aren't happy??"

"...you know, sis, there's always going to be stuff that makes you unhappy. And sometimes you can't do anything about it. But... I guess what I've learned is... not to think about it all the time. You just have to think about the stuff that makes you happy instead, y'know...? Like, say..." 

She felt his wings pressed down on her head.

"My most precious treasure."

"...what would that be?"

She tilted her head, her eyes shifting upwards despite not making him more visible. He replied, shortly yet sweetly:

"My brilliant little sister who's the smartest Cookie on Earthbread."

"..."

She didn't feel as if she deserved to be called that. But... it felt good hearing someone say it. 

Hearing him say it.

"Love ya, sis."

"...love you too."

For a moment, she didn't really feel sick anymore.

~~~

The poison was finally clearing out of her system; the battle was over, and she had been victorious. But alas, war was not without its casualties:

Dr. Bones Cookie had been quite apologetic, and very apparently frustrated about their own limitations the entire time, even if no one held it against them that they were essentially running an entire miniature hospital by themself. When Alchemist Cookie was finally discharged, she was essentially wheelchair-bound. She wasn't incapable of walking, but the pain and fatigue that it brought was too much to be reasonable, and she was far too at risk of stumbling, falling, getting hurt-

The amount of time it would take to recover her walking ability was uncertain. If she ever did, then the disuse of her legs would likely mean she'd need physical therapy to be able to use them again. But at this point, she was just happy to go home...

Even if she would still need some degree of taking care of. The doctor still recommended she spend most of the day resting at the very least. Her brother would have to take care of her, against all protests of hers. She had been taken care of for long enough. 

She was certain it made him no better than what he had been. 

But he seemed... just fine with this prospect...?

"What if I never get better...? What if you're stuck taking care of me for the rest of my life?"

"C'mon, sis, aren't you the one who goes on about giving stuff in return...? Honestly, you shouldn't have been giving it in the first place, but... hey, at least now you get to sit back and relax, right?"

"..."

"...come on, give yourself a break for once. You deserve it, you know."

...

Recovery really was going to be a long process...

But she had her brother, and he was actually going to put in the effort to moderate himself. And she had never been more happy to be in those grape juice-smelling rooms of their home again.  

(The smell had just barely begun to fade...)

And there at home at last, they were surprised by her brother's friends- Sparkling Cookie had been trusted to watch the house for all the times her brother was out to see her, and with how Vampire Cookie had so excitedly relayed the news to him that she was coming home that day, he had invited Herb Cookie and Mint Choco Cookie over to welcome them home. 

...the latter two were clearly more there for her brother, and she supposed she couldn't blame them as beyond the belated 'thank you's for keeping her alive until the ambulance had arrived, she didn't really have anything to say to them either. They just didn't really know each other that well. 

...

But the former, sitting to the side and patiently listening to the rest, chiming in here and there- she wheeled right up to him and plainly stated:

"I'm sorry."

"...for what?" He tilted his head slightly.

"..." she took a deep breath, in and out: "you were just trying to help me, and I was... really mad at you. You didn't deserve... that."

"...oh. Oh. I see... It's alright, Alchemist Cookie. I'm just happy to see you've recovered from your... sickness..."

He looked deeply uncomfortable with just that one last word. 

"...you don't have to sugarcoat it, you know. I know you're the one who found out."

"..." his smile fell: "I won't pry, but... just know," he said with a gentle tone as he pushed some of her hair away from her face, "you can always come talk to me if you need someone to listen."

"..."

She smiled.

"...thanks, Sparkling Cookie." 

That very night when they had come home together, once everyone else had left and it was just her and her brother again, as she was still getting used to her new mode of movement, Alchemist Cookie found she had trouble getting through the door to her own room. She would be able to just barely reach the doorknob, but the true problem lay in that her door opened outwards... and she wasn't that good at maneuvering herself, thus she didn't know if she could find a way to get around the door hitting her when it opened. She didn't know how to keep it open as she entered, either.

...she ended up having to ask Vampire Cookie for help, already. Just to get the door for her.

(...maybe asking for help wasn't so bad after all...)

She realized immediately upon entering the room how much tidier it was compared to how she had left it, after she had messed it up creating her concoction and neglected to clean up after herself. But now, even that poison of hers had been scrubbed from the cauldron, and under the moonlight through the now open curtains she could see: Neither jam nor venom spat smeared the floor...

Good riddance, she thought.

(She'd have to thank Sparkling Cookie for this, most likely...)

Stains were left behind- forever to remind of that incident, never able to be scrubbed clean. But perhaps some things were best left unforgotten.

Once she was close enough to her bed, she was able to use her limited walking ability to get herself into it. Crumbs, that hurt really bad. 

...and her brother came to tuck her in, even though she tried to reject it. 

"This is humiliating...!"

"There's nothing humiliating about a little TLC, sis."

"It just feels so... It's like you're treating me like a kid."

"...Alchemist Cookie, you are a kid."

"..."

She'd never really thought about it before, but...

She was a kid. Yet she'd never really gotten to be one. Always at work in her lab, always worrying about things she couldn't control... and always taking care of an adult who wouldn't care for himself. That had been her life for so long. That had been her 'normal.'

She didn't know how to live without asphyxia. She had always wanted to breathe, but now that she could, she didn't really know what to do with herself. Everything she could do had long since faded to obscurity in her mind. All those hobbies of hers had grown dusty, forgotten...

But... she could work on it now. She could go out and make friends and read books and look at the stars and do anything she wanted. She could finally enjoy alchemy again.

She had made a mental note earlier, hadn't she...? To get to work on something?

...she could throw that aside for now. Right now wasn't the time for that.

...she could spend quality time with her brother and he wouldn't be too drunk to remember, maybe. A lot of the plans she had come up with for them would probably need modification, given her current indefinite condition, but she wouldn't let anything stop her from having this, now that she had it. 

She knew she could've had it more smoothly, but there was no going back. Things could've been worse, anyways. Better not worrying about things out of her control.

She had bettering things to think about now.

That very second day she was home, after getting changed out of that hospital gown she had left on (getting dressed was difficult, but it was something she could do by herself, lying on her bed...)- which she would have to wash and return later- she had her first real meal in a long time, and he was the one who cooked it. He insisted on learning this on his own, on learning to do things for himself. 

For her.

(He was adamant on washing that hospital gown too)

It tasted... not too bad, really. She could appreciate the effort this time. She put on her best smile, and happily ate away. Even if it wasn't the best.

Maybe someday it could be great.

Just watching her eat seemed to overwhelm her brother with so much emotion, that before she could even take her last bite she found him crying over her shoulder with nothing but pure joy.

"W-welcome back, sis...!"

It had been so long since she had been in another Cookie's embrace and really embraced it for herself; something about it just brought her own emotions out. And the two of them spent a good minute or two crying in that awkward position, him standing next to her sitting at the table by that mediocre meal still cooked with love, just grateful that they were both alive and had each other and that they could finally communicate.

And it was their unspoken promise to put communication above all, because that could've saved them so much hardship in the first place.

And they were never going to let anything like this happen ever again.

Over the course of the month, healing had its bumps in the road. Alchemist Cookie and Vampire Cookie were trying their hardest to get better, to make things better- and they were getting better, of course. But both of them would sometimes fall back into old habits: Vampire Cookie would occasionally fail to keep himself in check, and Alchemist Cookie's issues were a chronic mess. He'd sometimes fall to temptation and drink enough to forget, and in turn she would cry her eyes out and sometimes fall to her darker urges, and he would cry his own eyes out the moment he saw what he caused.

But they were both aware, willing to communicate, and ready to work on it all; For themselves, for each other, for family. They'd try to keep an eye on each other, to keep an eye on themselves- Vampire Cookie especially. And the day he was able to go out to the bar and come home by himself, without needing another Cookie to cut him off- the two of them couldn't have been happier. 

Beginning about a week and a half after she came home, her sessions with Chamomile Cookie were... cathartic, in a sense. She had been hesitant to spill to some Cookie that she didn't know, but the soothing, floral aroma of the cabin was enough to put her mind at ease, and she was assured that she could talk about anything on her mind. Knowing she wasn't forced to wrench things out against her will, she just started talking about her day. 

...and eventually, she started loosening up, started spilling her feelings out over a cup of tea, and she found that a burden had been lifted. Chamomile Cookie would listen to her; that Cookie wasn't that conversational, but she was a Cookie who Alchemist Cookie could confide in. 

She was able to engage more socially with other Cookies again. Pretty much the moment her acquaintances had found out she had 'been sick' (of course, certain details were never to be disclosed) and saw the lingering effects, they were all over her, so to speak. Always well-meaning, but sometimes they were a bit much. 

...she'd never really thought of herself as having many real friends. Maybe really any. She just didn't keep in touch enough. She loved having friends, but they always came and went. But seeing so many Cookies going out of their way to talk to her again made her think, perhaps the problem was just that she hadn't been able to see them.

Gingerbrave was ever the friend to all, of course- the moment he'd seen her rolling around the Cookie Kingdom, he had so many questions about what happened to her and if she was healthy and, really, she didn't want to answer most of them. Fortunately, he wouldn't keeping pressing after she asked him to stop. 

He tried to make an effort to include her in any big events- even if he didn't know too much about how wheelchairs worked or how to accommodate for them. But she did notice some construction work being done on the library for a while, and by the end of it a ramp had been installed. 

She just had a hunch on who ordered that, even if it never directly came up between them. But she had it in her head to repay him someday, whenever she could figure out something suitable.

She was happy to go to the library again. She used to spend so much time there, immersing herself in stacks of books from opening to closing while the the smell of paper would stimulate her hunger for knowledge... 

She decided to try actually checking out the books she'd read this time, to read at home for a change. Things had gotten much brighter around the house anyway; she actually had enough lighting to read, now. She wasn't sure if it was just from opening the curtains or what, but...

One day, she ran into Sparkling Cookie, returning those old textbooks she had memorized over. It... made her laugh once she realized what he'd been doing. Even if she had to thank him again. 

(When had she last laughed, again...?)

Once, and only once, she even had Wizard Cookie of all Cookies just walk up to her out of the blue and hand her a 'get well soon' card, muttering something into his scarf that she couldn't quite make out.

...she couldn't exactly call it a half-hearted effort considering he left an entire hand-written message, but...

'Dear Alchemist Cookie,'

He had written that above the card's printed-on 'Get Well Soon!' message. The rest continued below:

'I sincerely hope that you're in good health right now.

What happened to you? Did you get injured or something? Some kind of alchemical accident?

(P.S. if that's what happened, maybe try MAGIC next 

Actually whatever happened, just get better, will you? It's so BORING without you around! I miss debating with you, honestly. (Don't tell anyone I said that or you're as good as crumbled)

Sincerely,

Wizard Cookie'

...it was so funny to her, she had to stifle a laugh when she read it. This was his best attempt, just to say that he cared...?

...he cared...

Even her bitter rival cared.

...Cookies cared about her. Cookies looked at her when she came by, smiled at her, listened to her speak about alchemy on end...

(And maybe they'd always done that. But she'd never looked for it until now.)

And if no one else had time for her some days, she could always come home and cozy up to her brother on the couch at night, and he'd wrap an arm or his cape around her while she read herself to sleep or ramble to him and he'd try to keep up. And he was so pleasantly cool, just enough to warm her heart.

And whatever the future would be, however much she'd recover in the months proceeding, she knew: It was better.

[cluescorner]

I cannot imagine being a Damian stan right now. You've got both Zdarsky's bullshit (where he clearly doesn't give a shit about your boy) and The Boy Wonder (where Juni Ba clearly gives so many shits about your boy) coming out on the same day. The whiplash must be insane. I hope y'all get some nice warm soup for your efforts jfc

[blvvdk3ep]

You haven't known the triumphs and defeats, the epic highs and lows of having to explain ao3 to someone who's never heard of it before

[pokimoko]

Hi, I just saw your art of the snake and the pigeon with aromantic flags, and they look amazing! I thought that a pigeon done in the colours of the queerplatonic and/or oriented aroace flag would be adorable. Did you know that pigeons mate for life and often show affection to their partner by cuddling with each other and giving them light pecks around the neck and head? They also are apparently great parents, with both males and females taking care of the young, this load is shared almost equally between the sexes. Both parents build nests, sit on eggs, and lactate (well “pseudo-lactation” technically) to feed chicks. I just thought the idea of two pigeons in a qpr would be really cute.

Sorry for the ramble about pigeons, I just really like them.

Don't apologise, I love me some pigeon facts. And you're absolutely right, two pigeons in a QPR would be really cute.

[sentientcave]

Let's Riot!

When the Reader St arena gets bought out from under them by Morgan’s vengeful ex, Pippa Graves, The Reader St Riots suddenly find themselves without a practice space. Pippa may say she’ll play nice, but Morgan knows that she’ll either have to get back under Pippa’s manicured thumb or the whole team will be out on their ass in no time. Problem is, the only other practice space around that’s not booked up to the tits belongs to Jo Price, captain of the Femme41, and well… Morgan has a bit of ugly history with her too.

Still, Jo’s at least a little more reasonable than Pippa, and Morgan may hate to beg, but she’d hate to see the Riots disbanded more. And well, maybe there’s room for a little cooperation, especially when their teams get along so well.

Contains: Lesbians! Almost everyone is a woman (Alex is NB and there are like. A few men mentioned.) and most of them are gay, OCs: Readers and OCs from a bunch of my projects and also Bambi and Bricks who belong to the esteemed @dragonnarrative-writes , Roller Derby!, complicated dating histories, this is just a fun little palette cleanser because I got sad working on one of my other projects lmao, alcohol consumption, cannabis consumption

~3k - 18+ MDNI

“Frank, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me!”

“Come on, sweetheart, calm down—”

“I am calm!” Morgan snapped.

Chelsea quickly put an arm in front of Morgan and dragged her back a step. Calling Morgan sweetheart was a great shortcut to her blowing her top. “You are definitely not calm.” She looked back at Frank. He stood between them and the doors to the arena, a short, balding man that looked a bit sweaty and nervous in the low light. “You couldn’t give us any notice?”

��Look, I’ll return your deposits for the month—”

“That’s not the issue!” Morgan's brown eyes flashed with fury, her jaw tight, like she wanted to bite the man, which would be distinctly unhelpful.

Chelsea dragged her back another step. “It is a little the issue. What happened? We’ve never had any trouble, we’ve always paid on time, there’s no reason why you’d drop us like this.”

“New owners,” he said weakly. “I’m sorry, they cancelled everyone. You were just at the bottom of the call list, and you got here before I could.”

“New owners! Since when was it for sale?”

“Hell if I know. They don’t tell me shit either. All I know is that Gerry came in here with some blond bi—" He thought twice about his wording, giving Morgan another nervous glance. "--Woman and she’s the boss now.”

Morgan walked in a tight circle, looking up at the sky, hands on her hips. This wasn’t happening. It didn’t have to be her. Maybe it was some other blond woman with money to burn. “Fuck.”

The doors behind Frank opened. “Oh, hey sugar,” a too-familiar voice rang out, southern accent distinctive. “Fancy meetin' you here.”

Morgan turned around sharply. “Pippa.”

Chelsea groaned. “Oh here we go.”

“Go back to your office, Frank. I think I’ve got this from here.” Phillipa Graves patted Frank on the shoulder and walked past him. “Morgan, I’ve missed you. You never return my calls anymore.”

“Is that what this is about?” Morgan shifted her grip on her bag, glancing toward the parking lot. Bricks and Doll were lingering at the edge, talking to each other and looking back with worried expressions. They knew the history between Morgan and Pippa well enough to be wary of what might happen next. “You’re gonna steal our practice space because I won’t call you back?”

“Aw, honey, don’t be like that. We’re all big girls. I figure we can learn to share. Why don’t you join us tonight? And early next week we can grab dinner and make a new schedule. I’m sure there’s a way to make sure we’re all… satisfied.” Pippa twisted one of Morgan��s curls around her finger, leaning in close. Even ready for practice, she looked perfect as always, more like she was about to model for a roller skate advertisement than actually practice. Sleek blonde hair swept back in a low braid, a tight pink tank top, leggings that clung to her thighs, pads on, skates off, preparation interrupted by all the fuss she was certainly expecting.

“I’m the one that does the scheduling, usually,” Chelsea interjected. “Maybe it’s us that should get dinner.”

“If you like,” Pippa said smoothly, barely sparing Chelsea a glance. “The more the merrier, of course. Though I do have some personal business to talk over with Morgan too. Suppose it can wait.” She tapped Morgan under the chin with her first knuckle. “Come on, sugar, practice with us. We’re not so bad. And you’re all already here, ain’t you?”

“We’ll have to talk it over.”

“Course. Y’all come on in when you’re done talkin’.” Pippa winked at Morgan and sauntered back inside.

Chelsea sighed, elbowing Morgan as they walked over to the others. The rest of the team had gathered around Bricks, her height marked among the group of shorter women. “You’re gonna have to sleep with her.”

Morgan rolled her eyes. “I’d really rather not.”

“She’s not going to be reasonable,” Billie pointed out. “She’s pure evil. She’s the head of the PTA at Ellie’s school, and she runs that shit like the navy. She’s gonna bend us over a barrel to get what she wants.”

“Have you ever tried not having antagonistic relationships with your exes?” Bricks asked. “Because that’s what I do, and no one has bought a whole arena just to fuck with me.”

“Yet,” Doll said reassuringly. “It could still happen.”

“The whole team is awful,” Bambi said. “One of them works in my office, and she’s a real— Well, I don’t like her.”

“Harsh words, DB.” Bricks propped her hands on her hips. “We can suck it up for one night, a free practice is a free practice. And if you have to flutter your eyelashes at her the whole time, you’re gonna do it.” She pointed at Morgan accusingly. “This is your fault.”

“It is not!”

“It is,” Chelsea said solemnly, fixing her pink bun from on top of her head to low on the nape of her neck to fit under her helmet. “Pussy game is clearly too strong. Maybe try being a worse fuck.”

“She can’t.” Bricks gently turned Morgan around so that she was facing the doors, and nudged her forward a step. “She doesn’t know how.”

Chelsea turned fully toward the others, walking backward. “Alright, drills only, we’re not going to let them goad us into a scrimmage, they’re gonna play dirty as hell with no refs, and we can’t afford an injury this close to a game. Keep it loose, and if anyone hassles you, come to me, or come to Bricks. Do not tell Morgan or she’s gonna punch someone and we’re gonna lose our space for good.”

“I’m not!”

Bricks laughed and caught Chelsea’s arm, spinning her before she hit the edge of the door. “Yes you are, Morgan. Stay on your best behaviour. Maybe even try being charming.”

Bunny nudged Dancer, grinning. “If you’d joined up last year, like I told you to, you could have been here for the whole explosion. It was great.”

“Great?” Billie asked, raising her eyebrows. “Were we watching the same breakup?”

Bricks glanced over her shoulder warningly. “Save it for drinks, ladies, or Morgan’s gonna make us skate line drills till we drop.”

They dropped their bags along the benches and geared up, watching the Shadows zip around the track. The Shadows were mean, not just on the track, but off too, in that sugar sweet way that left you wondering if you were just reading into it. They were a pretty well-rounded team, and coordinated, thanks to Pippa. She did nothing in half-measures. It seemed impossible that she’d be able to raise children, run school events, coach a junior team as well as an adult one, somehow have a job on top, and still have time to run around keeping two relationships secret from each other for nearly eight months, but Pippa was the kind of woman who really could have it all.

The Riots were… A good team. Pippa had poached two of their players during the breakup drama, and Pepper had moved back home to take care of her grandmother, and they were still trying to get back to where they had been a year ago. Kitten Caboodle and Break Dancer were pretty solid for fresh meat, but with a small team and only four of them with more than a few years experience, it was rough going out there. Hard not to get demoralized when Kortac had beaten them 240 to 60 during their last game. No one’s fault really— Bunny and Sweetpea had been out sick and neither Kitty or Dancer were prepared to jam more than a few rounds with players that rough. They’d gotten shaken, so Morgan and Billie had done most of the jams. Nobody and Freddie Kruger had just torn right through their weakened pack while Morgan and Bill tried to wrestle their way past Queenie.

Once Dancer and Kitty got more confident, they’d be hard to catch. Kitty was tiny, and Dancer was agile, but they both needed more time. Doll and Bambi, who had joined a little over a year ago had turned out to be a highly effective set of blockers— Small, but sturdy and hard to knock down. When they were out on the track with Bricks or Chelsea, they were nigh impossible to get past, which would leave their fourth blocker free to assist the jammer, in an ideal world.

The ideal world simply had five more players in it. Maybe more, since no one but Morgan and Bricks made it to every game.

Later on, worn out and sweaty from practice, crammed into the biggest booth at a diner that was roughly equidistant between everyone’s homes and the arena (and the young man that worked the fryers had a massive crush on Sweetpea, which meant everyone got more fries), they debriefed.

“That’s gonna be tricky for me to stomach long term,” Morgan admitted. “I’m gonna sleep with Pip if I have to be too nice.”

“You don’t actually have to sleep with her, you know,” Bricks said.

“No… I’m gonna.”

“We can find somewhere else,” Billie suggested. “I don’t want Morgan and Pip to get back together, it was so annoying when they were. All in favour of Morgan not fucking Pippa, say aye.” She raised her hand to note the measure.

“Aye,” they intoned together, all raising their hands as well.

“Simone says the Femme41 practice out of Jo’s warehouse now. Pippa did the same thing to them eight months ago. I bet they’d let us skate there.” Bricks tossed another fry into her mouth. “If someone behaves herself.”

Morgan scoffed. “It’s impossible for me to date another one of her girlfriends, her relationships hardly last the weekends now.”

Bunny mouthed the word Pippa at Kitty and Dancer.

“Then you won’t have a problem asking her,” Chelsea said. “Maybe bake her something nice as an overture. A pie or something. You make good pies.”

Morgan winced. “We have a game against them this weekend. We could ask her all together.”

Billie shook her head. “No, this one’s on you. Captain to captain conversation. You have Chelsea’s schedule key, you can negotiate for a time that works.”

“And if she says no? She hates my guts.”

“Wear something low cut and bake her a pie,” Bricks suggested. “Maybe just go wearing nothing but an apron.”

“I’ve got one that says Born To Be A Lesbian Housewife,” Doll said. “You can borrow it. It’s very frilly.”

Bambi giggled. “I’ve got one that says Vagitarian.”

Doll laughed too, knocking her head against Bambi’s shoulder. “That’s way better, Morgan, borrow that one.”

"I'm not going to-- Did you people hear me when I said she hates my guts?"

"She still has eyes, Morgan," Bricks said. "And you have nice tits."

"If you don't sort this out, we might have to disband to other teams. And I don't want to. I like you guys." Chelsea looped an arm around Kitty. "We started this team because we wanted to get together and have fun and challenge ourselves without it getting so damn competitive or mean. Bill and I are not going back to the Shadows, and there's no way Bricks wants to go back to Kortac. So put on your big girl panties and a cute dress, and charm Jo into sharing the warehouse with us. Got it?"

"Got it." Morgan sank back into her seat with a groan. I'll talk to her after work tomorrow."

"Good," Billie said, a note of finality in her voice. "Now, did anyone else watch Game of Dragons last night? I have opinions."

By the time Morgan got home, walked Laika, showered, ate cold leftovers out of the fridge and stepped out on her balcony with a joint, it was well past dark, and she was bone tired. Jo was out on her own balcony, feet up, smoking a cigar. She was a thick, barrel chested woman, wearing a tank top and jeans, cigar in one hand, glass of whiskey in the other. Her hair was longer than usual, tucked behind her ears, like she'd been growing it out. It had been a while since Morgan saw her without a hat on.

They acknowledged each other with a curt nod, and Morgan settled into her swing chair, tucking her feet up underneath her. Laika went to the railing to give Jo the biggest, saddest eyes she could.

Jo maybe didn't like Morgan much, but it was hard not to like Laika. The big goofy rottweiler loved almost everyone, and knew exactly how to get what she wanted (big sad eyes, a few pathetic whines, a raised paw, if need be). It was only a minute before Jo was up and leaning over the railing to give Laika a pet.

Usually they didn't speak. The smallest things seemed to spark up into fights between them, and Morgan found it was easier just to keep their interactions to a minimum.

So it was a surprise when Jo spoke first. "Rough night?"

"Yeah. You could say that."

"Want to talk about it?"

“Thank you for pretending to care, but not really.” She grimaced. It really was the perfect opportunity to ask, but it was hard to shake the habit of brushing Jo off.

Jo snorted. “You know, I really preferred fightin’ to this cold shoulder treatment.”

“That’s because you’re a disagreeable sort of woman.”

“That’s the spirit, pet. But you can do better than that. C’mere.”

Morgan glared at her. “No. I’m good where I am actually.” She looked the other way, puffing on the joint. She could ask tomorrow. She wasn’t in a mood to deal with anyone else tonight. Having to smile and play nice with Pippa had been bad enough. She needed a good sleep before she could even pretend to be friendly to anyone else.

She startled when Jo’s thick fingers plucked the joint out of her hand. “Hey! I didn’t invite you over here.”

“Your weed’s better than mine.”

“Probably because I grow it myself. What do you want?”

Jo sat down on the solid little coffee table in front of Morgan, holding her cigar and whiskey glass in one hand. She leaned forward, glass resting lightly on her knee, bleeding condensation into the denim. Mixed drink, then, not straight whiskey. Jo drank the better stuff neat. “Pip called me today.”

“Oh yeah?”

Jo hummed, offering the joint back, blue eyes stern. “Don’t be coy, if you’re fuckin’ her again I’d rather know than get blindsided bumpin’ into her in the hallway.”

“Did she tell you we were?”

Jo’s jaw clenched tight. “She said she was lookin’ forward to seein’ you tonight.”

“Well I’m sure it was super nice for her. She bought my team’s arena. I am gonna have to start fucking her if I want to keep our usual practice slots. She made that… Well about as clear as she ever makes anything.” Morgan handed the joint over again. “So not very, but I still got the gist of it.” She scrunched up Laika’s ears, humming. Laika’s tail solidly thumped against Jo’s shin, bridging the space between them.

“Extortionist,” Jo scoffed.

“Yeah. Pretty much. Bricks said you might take pity on us if I asked nicely. I know you practice out of your warehouse.” Morgan lifted her eyes back up to Jo’s face.

“Is this you askin’ nicely?” Jo leaned forward slightly, her soft stomach spilling over her belt a bit, biceps flexing as she leaned more weight on her arms. “You can do better than that. Not so much as a please.”

“It was not me asking nicely. I had no intention of talking to you until tomorrow, and I’m still not asking until I’ve had at least four hours of uninterrupted sleep.”

“Surprised you’d come to me.”

Morgan looked away first, just like she always did. Jo had an intensity to her that was hard to match, blue eyes drilling into her own like she was looking for faults she could use to crack her open entirely. It was much easier to study the freckles on the top of her shoulder, just above the pinup girl sitting on the curve of a crescent moon that looked rather a lot like her ex wife, Sadie. “I wouldn’t if I had literally any other option. But I have to admit that you are slightly more tolerable than Pippa. Even if you do park half in my spot and fuck squealing college girls at all hours of the night.”

“You don’t need the space. You have a bike.”

“So that gives you the right to park your big-dick pickup truck wherever you please?”

“Sure does, sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me sweetheart! We have one conversation that doesn’t make me want to punch you, and you have to ruin it.”

She grinned, shifting back again. “Not being very nice to someone you want to ask a favour from.”

“I’m not asking the favour until tomorrow. I’m too grumpy to be nice tonight. You invited yourself over and plopped yourself down in front of me and started smoking my weed.” This was not helpful. Why did Jo always manage to get her this worked up? She drew in a centring breath. “No, you’re right, I should be nicer.”

"I did bogart your joint," Jo conceded. "That's on me." Rather than hand it back, she took a long drag, the cherry burning bright all the way down to the folded cardboard filter, and dropped the remains in the ashtray. She leaned forward again, cupping the back of Morgan's neck with a strong hand, and blew smoke directly into Morgan's face. She grinned wickedly when Morgan spluttered a bit. "What's wrong, pet? Thought you wanted me to share better."

"Maybe I am better off negotiating with Pippa," Morgan grumbled, swatting Jo's hand away.

"Hm. Maybe. Why don't you think about how you'll ask me about practice space tomorrow, and I'll get out of your hair." Jo stood up, gave Laika another pat, and climbed back over to her side of the balcony without another word.

Morgan ushered Laika inside, fuming again, and furiously got ready for bed.

She was sure of one thing; Jo Price was going to make a truce between them nigh impossible.

Title card made on Canva - Image Credits: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 (Stickers are Canva assets) Dividers by @/cafekitsune

[pa-pa-plasma]

you just made the scientific discovery of the century & you want to tell everyone & your kids are first on that list but you can't find them. you manage to get a hold of your daughter & she says everything is fine but her voice gets tight when you try to mention your work & she sucks in a breath & says she won't keep you from it any longer than she already has & doesn't say bye as she hangs up the phone. you have a sinking feeling in your gut & you really want to get back to what you were doing but. something's wrong. where are your kids. why was your daughter not surprised when you told her. why was she so quick to hang up on you. your husband has the same type of mind & that's probably why neither of you can ignore this odd turn of events & so you decide to track them down. the research can wait. after all, the spook got away somehow afterwards. it's not like you have anything to go through but data & recordings.

[00fairylights00]

Hypersomnolence

Haha funny story, I was diagnosed with a sleep disorder in November after struggling with it unknowingly for give or take 18 months. Turns out I’m not crazy and falling asleep against your will multiple times a day is actually not a good or normal thing.

So permit me to write the puppet like a sap as I need this right now lol. Yes these are in fact all things I experienced but I am medicated for them now hooray!

One task, that was all you’d managed to get through today. You felt sick and heavy, opting to sit on the cold ground before your body made you, it was a battle to stay awake as sleep attacked you again.

It was only early afternoon and you’d struggled through your one task of sweeping, you were certain everyone at the hotel thought you to be lazy, even if they’d all told you otherwise.

You’d been sick like this for a long time, long before the petrification disease or the puppet frenzy, both events having a negative effect on the way you’d usually manage your symptoms. 

And while you appreciated the sanctity you’d been spared at Hotel Krat, the nagging feeling of needing to repay Lady Antonia for her kindness was not helping your case.

You sat with your head in your hands, slipping in and out of consciousness, losing the battle again. Usually, Polendina would find you, send you to your room to rest and that would be it for the day, once you were in bed you found it hard to do much of anything else. Which you supposed was good for your body but it made your emotional well-being an absolute wreck.

Lady Antonia had asked you time and time again to be kinder to yourself, to feel accomplished of the things you could do and that you were welcome here no matter how sick you were, and she would know a thing or two about being sick.

But, you had a bad habit of being nasty to yourself, and with your sleep-related illness only seeming to get worse you couldn’t remember the last time you’d spoken kindly to yourself.

You felt like shit.

A hand at your shoulder, delicate and tender shook you but it didn’t do much to rouse you. Your vision swam uncomfortably through the gaps in your fingers, your head being too heavy to lift up. Hands grasped your wrists, pulling gently to reveal your face that was then taken into those same hands, one soft and warm, the other firm and cold.

With the weight of your head now being supported by P’s hands you could somewhat force yourself to look at him. His expression was unreadable, as always, but his presence was a balm to your spiralling thoughts.

The friendship of Geppetto’s Puppet had been good for you, P didn’t care how tired you were he was just happy to see you, he didn’t expect anything but your presence and that was something you could give freely, tired or not.

He tilted his head in question to what you assumed to be your position on the floor, slumped over rather uncomfortably.

“It just came on, I had to sit down,” you mumbled, he seemed to frown, getting down on one knee and shifting you against him to pick you up.

With you cradled to his chest, he ascended the stairs. You burrowed down against his chest, relishing in how nice it was to be looked after. 

It was almost like the trip up to your room didn’t happen, one moment you were snug to P’s chest, the next you were under your sheets and propped up against the headboard. P took it upon himself to remove his shoes and coat and sit on the opposite side of the bed to keep you company.

“Sleepy?” P asked innocently, you nodded trying desperately to suppress another yawn. 

“I-“ he started, a thoughtful look crossing his face, “-want to help. How do I help?”

He gently took your hand in his own, his thumb rubbing over your knuckles. The astounding amount of care he treated you with was sure to tear you apart in the best ways, making your exhausted mind spin.

“Just stay here with me for a bit,” You laid your head on his shoulder, “I think that’ll help.”

“Okay.”

He mimicked you, resting his head on top of yours, pulling the sheets further up your lap. Doing what he could to keep you comfortable, a concept he was still trying to grasp.

“Thank you P,” you mumbled, snuggling closer, “love you.”

He pressed a gentle kiss to your head, nose buried in your hair, “I love you too.”

[koukouture]

Kou's AO3 ffxiv fic rec list

I am so insane and I literally have only been reading FFXIV fanfics for like the past four or so months so here r some of my favorites

I will split it up into three categories: reader inserts, WoL OCs, and then yk fics with only the characters.

WARNING: I read lots of unsavory shit so please heed the tags in the links as I will not be going over those in this list.

*length of fics will be rounded to nearest thousand

Reader insert's

The Rise of Emperor Solus zos Galvus by amandaterasu

(Emet Selch x reader) Length: 25k Status: Complete (one shot) Review: You don't understand I think about this fic at least once a day oh my fucking LORD. 25k words just GONE in an instant I read this in like under an hour. Actually gigging and kicking my feet this shit bro liiiiiike the way this author writes Emet Selch... ouuuuughhh. I love it when a man is just so insane for his woman that he finds her in another life and immediately starts courting her. Honestly, this shit is just so good it reads almost like a historical drama in the best ways possible. Yeah it's romance (and smut) but it's also politics (kinda) and idk about you but those are my two favorite things. I now need a full length novel about Emet Selch's rise to emperor of Garlemald but yk what this shit is just as good. Bonus points for this author for introducing me to fanfic reading extensions to replace certain terms I will be using this from now on.

Tremble, Duck, & Weave by OwlEspresso

(Estinien, Aymeric, Haurchefant, Urianger x reader) Length: 31k Status: Incomplete Review: This inspired my current big project, Hellbound and yeah idk something about Ishgardian politics man. I'm gonna warn you right now a lot of these reader insert recs WILL be yandere/yandere-adjacent with a lot of unhealthy themes, general debauchery, and doves ranging from beaten to dead so uh... yeah. That aside, this is just a really fun time. Seeing everyone interact with the reader insert and all the different ways they show (or think about) their twisted affections... hnnnng it makes me a little insane okay. Also, shout out to pervert Haurchefant you will always be near and dear to my heart. We were ROBBED in the English translation

Captivate by samsaur

(Aymeric and Estinien x reader) Length: 41k Status: Incomplete Review: Remember what I said about doves ranging from being beaten up to dead? Well, the dove is definitely dead here, but it's rlly juicy because this shit really does feel like a horror story. I am not qualified to speak on it, but I think this is a great portrayal of Stockholm syndrome and the way it's written really puts you into the shoes of the reader insert and you kind of feel that hot and silent shame of being held captive like this. Also, one of my favorite niches of FFXIV fanfics is apparently villain Aymeric. Idk why but he is so good as a villain probably because he had every single reason to turn out one, and he would be a far more terrifying villain than Thordan. If Aymeric wasn't our ally during Heavensward, he would undoubtedly be a huge threat to us and this fic kinda takes that and dangles it over your head. Because, yes, Aymeric is holding the reader captive but he is also helping Alphinaud and Tataru out. It's this balancing act where we know Aymeric is capable of really fucked up things but he is still playing at the perfect image of our noble ally. You find yourself yelling at everyone else not to trust him because you, the reader and his captive, know that he is a piece of shit in this AU and I think it's glorious. Uhhh Estinien is there too ig. It's no fault on the author's part but I just don't really vibe with Estinien as a love interest. Though, his dynamic with Aymeric and the reader is extremely interesting to me. I can't say too much without spoiling all the fun, but I think in a way Aymeric has him trapped under this thumb too.

I'd Ask For Your Soul, But It's Already Mine by Dotharl

(Zenos x reader) Length: 29k Status: Incomplete Review: Guys it's fucking Zenos PLEASE read the tags on this one. Anyways I love my porn kjakjfjkjakhshjfjhk. Okay but genuinely I always say this, but Zenos is surprisingly genuine as a love interest because he doesn't put WoL up on a pedestal and just loves them for all of their worst bits and THAT is the appeal of enemies to lovers. This fic plays with that, especially with the reader insert being a Dark Knight WoL where Fray talks some sense into them and helps them recognize their self worth. I won't lie to you, this fic starts out with VERY fucked up Yandere fuckboy Zenos energy with all of the dubcon included, but I kinda don't care + it's just genuinely well written at times. The dynamic between WoL and Zenos is very nice here, bc yeah it starts out... like that and then it evolves into mutual respect when the reader realizes that Zenos would treat them well and not yk use them as a weapon. Albeit, it does go kind of quick but eh, it's like 4 chapters so I can't fault the author THAT much. Besides, not to diminish the fic, but it IS pretty clearly just kind of a pornfest and that is A-Okay with me! This shit was also last updated in like 2022 so I'm pretty sure it's abandoned.

Not a Champion, Just a Knight by Kei_Cordelle

(Haurchefant x reader)

Length: 23k Status: Incomplete Review: This one is in kind of a weird position because this is an AU where WoL dies at the Vault instead of Haurchefant, so there isn't exactly any HaurcheWoL action to speak of. But, WoL definitely haunts the characters' actions. Bro, when I tell you, the worst part of this fic is actually Alphinaud being very NOT OKAY bc WoL is dead. He is just a baby what the fuck do you mean he watched his friend, confidant, and hero die in front of him???? Yeah sorry I love Alphinaud a normal amount. (that is my SON) Anyways, this is written in first person which is weirdly a turn off for some people? I don't get the hate tbh, because first person just opens up so many fun opportunities! You can break the fourth wall much easier and directly address the reader, and you can also have the vibe that this is a retrospective of what the character saw. The later is definitely the vibe this fic gives. It's like, if the Heavensward memoir was written from Haurche's perspective in this AU. To me, I like to think that this fic is Haurchefant telling the tale of his greatest love and regret in writing. I feel like the action scenes could use some work but they're not terrible. It's just that they're literally one to one recounting of the Heavensward trials and it's just not the best. I think there's also the issue of the cast becoming slightly bloated so it is a bit rough to account for everyone's actions during fight sequences. I really do love this fic though because I think it's really interesting to see how everyone is unraveling. Obviously, we as the WoL take on a lot of things that are almost impossible for everyone else so to see them take on the monumental burden of the hero is very interesting. How would our companions react to certain things? Since during most trials in canon we take it on alone, how does everyone else fit in? Are they all doing the mechanics correctly? All in all, solid fic and I am holding out hope for that fated final fifth chapter since the last time it was updated was back in January and it was started back in 2022 so one day I hope that this will be complete and I get to see the final mental breakdown as the squad completes Heavensward with the legacy of WoL looming over them ✨

WoL OC Inserts

Coerthan Traitor by Cascanora (@cascanora here on Tumblr)

(Zenos x OC, a bit of typical Emet Selch and Azem reincarnation messiness) Length: 190k (GOD DAMN-) Status: Ongoing Review: The author of this fic is highkey like a celebrity to me bc I gobble up their art like it's fucking Christmas morning. Imagine being God's favorite and being blessed with the ability to draw AND WRITE??? Fucking insanity bro. Also, their OC, Crow is fine as hell like one chance ma'am pleeeeeeaaaaaseeee goddddddd- Anyways onto the actual fic, I am admittedly only on the first arc which is kind of like the childhood arc ig. But I really love it so far because I've just never seen anyone really write Zenos being kind of young and vulnerable and playful? That's a lie, I think I've read like one Zenos fluff that I'll have to dig through my AO3 history to find again (bc you'd best believe none of my bookmarks are fluffly...) so I just really like the change of pace. Zenos is obviously always put in more enemies to lovers type scenarios so I kinda like this different angle because yeah maybe he was something resembling normal at one point. Obviously he's very fucked up for a reason, but he was a kid too. He didn't always go off about biting jugulars and drinking blood or something, he got fucked up. I am so far absolutely living for a lot of the political stuff bc as I've said before, romance with a side of politics (or vice versa) is my cup of tea and nobody pulls this shit off better than fanfic authors. I'm really interested to see where the political stuff goes but it's like 2am (sheesh) as I'm writing this so I will have to delve further into this fic later. Anyways can I take a moment to talk about Crow and Zenos? Because they're so fucking cute I love themmmmm. I feel like I'm coming at this as someone who has seen a lot of Cascanora's art so I see when Crow and Zenos' relationship develop into when they're adults, so seeing the early stages of it is really cool to me. I don't quite know how to explain it? But anyways I am raving about this fic bc I think it just builds them both up so well and again, I don't see Zenos written to be playful and yk act his age the way he does around Crow. They just work together so well and while at the point of the story I'm at they're definitely just friends, I think that's the beautiful thing about friends to lovers. Regardless if it's romantic or platonic love, Zenos and Crow are a package deal. Also, Emet Selch/Solus in this fic is perfect. I LOVE my geriatric old man telling stories about his past. I would go off about how I am very captivated by the whole Galvus family dynamic but I will save that for the other fics bc this review section is already super fucking long and you had BEST BELIEVE I'm scouring the internet for Galvus family fics. I lied I will talk about this a little more because this strikes an odd chord with me as someone who wrote a lot of my own longform OC x Canon growing up. I kinda shamed myself off doing that kinda stuff as I got older, but diving into FFXIV where everyone becomes fucking Shakespear with their WoLs has made me let go of my fears of being a cringefailure and embrace the OC x Canon. To see really well written and thought out OC insert stuff is very comforting to me bc I often worry abt my own OCs being shitty and not really fitting in but fics like this assure me that hey, maybe I can make cool shit and that really is the most beautiful part of fanfiction and fandom in general. Fandom is this incredible loop of finding amazing shit and thinking "wow, I wanna do that too" and it's just really rewarding.

Save the Last Dance For Me by lalahganaja

(Alphinaud x WoL OC) Length: 11k Status: Complete (yatta!!!!) Review: ALPHINAUD MY BEAUTIFUL SONNNNN AAAAAAAARRRGGHHHSJGFKJGSGKHJHJF. This fic is so delightful bc it feels like I'm cheering on my children to kiss. A'tahja is so fucking precious and her and Alphinaud just bounce off each other so well. This fic also has the other Scions making an appearance and I fucking love it so much. Found family will never NOT make me absolutely batshit insane. Like yes, Y'shtola mamma cat <3 anyways *chews on Alphinaud and A'tahja* This is just so insanely fluffy and it made me slam my desk every few minutes bc cute teenage love story!!!! How can I not!!!! Alphinaud just acts like an adult a lot of the time and gets put in a lot of adult situations, but in this fic he just gets to be a little guy. A'tahja too, obviously as the WoL she's often off doing insane shit that no teenager should ever have to do and bearing burdens that are too much for a little skrunkly such as herself. But here they just get to be silly little kiddies who are very down bad for each other and it's adorable. I think another thing I really liked was A'tahja getting more in touch with her femininity? Idk how to put. But basically she had really short hair for most of her life bc she pretended to be a boy while in poverty, so to see her be A) pampered and B) learn to take care of herself and be more girly was super cute to see. Also, I am just always really surprised whenever I remember that Alphinaud can drink lmao. Like no, you are a baby (I was the same age as Alphinaud when I started playing this game) put the beer down and go sip on a capri sun or smth. God. Kids these days...

Canon character fics (?)

and i'm your clone, your strange creation by egg(strwpup)

(Fortemps familial angst from Artoirel's pov) Length: 6k Status: Complete (oneshot) Listen to me, I love this fic beyond words, but for the sake of my mental health I will NEVER read this shit again. My daddy issues go fucking DEEP like this is utter insanity. Don't get me wrong it is beautifully written and I love complicated family dynamics- but by god this fucked me up so bad. See, I like to personally believe that Edmont was a good, albeit flawed father but his sons know that he loves them and they love him in turn. But I know deep down in my heart of hearts that it is so much more complicated than that because you know, we can't have nice things here at Square Enix. It just personally fucks me up because I too, like Artoirel in this fic, am a momma's boy at heart and I... kinda hate my dad lmao. Basically, I kin Artoirel in this fic. Oldest child who has it out for my father + hates that I'm kinda like him. He loves his mother but holds contempt for his father, perhaps unfairly but can you blame him? (yeah I'm not only describing Artoirel here...) Edmont is a less than stellar father in this fic but you can tell he loves his kids and aaaaaaaaa I'm tearing up again. The complicated family dynamics + the drama of what happened in Heavensward is just so fucking delicious bro. 10/10 this fic destroyed me in every sense of the word and I do not want to go through that emotional reckoning again. However, I will be writing Edmont as a shitty dad in my fics now. Sorry but I am always just so insane for that sweet sweet eldest child and father dynamic because it's always so disastrous. Having parents is just so strange.

mon corps, le mien; mon coeur, le tien by steelthighsvoideyes

(Aymeric x Haurchefant x Estinien with a side of angst + Haurchefant survives the Vault AU) Length: 43k Status: Incomplete Review: I also started tearing up while writing this review because Haurchefant just does that to me okay? I feel like with a lot of Ishgard trio ship fics Haurche is always kind of left out? Or, he feels a bit tacked on to the Estimeric dynamic. That, or he's just sitting there with unrequited love bc clearly this man has not suffered enough. With this fic however, it definitely feels a lot more balanced. Like yeah a majority of the fic is just Haurchefant and Estinien bonding in the hospital, but Aymeric still feels present because of their shared past and how it's constantly being brought up. (in a good way) All three of them get the spotlight so you don't really lean towards one pairing. Romance aside, I really like the Ishgard trio's established dynamic in this fic because they're just guys being dudes. Besties who were in the military together. Like, Aymeric balances the trio out, Haurchefant is the sort of boisterous youngest member and Estinien is gruff and sarcastic and the banter between the three of them just flows so naturally. It's an actual friendship dynamic that serves as a solid foundation for what will hopefully be a romantic dynamic later on. Once again, friends to lovers is so good for this reason because the foundation is already there. You appreciate them as a person and you are aware of their flaws from the get-go, so when it turns romantic you skip a lot of the awkward exploration phase and can just be comfortable with each other. Anyways as for the crying part- the Fortemps familial drama follows Haurche throughout this fic and it does make me a little, tiny bit crazy. Not gonna spoil it, but the way Haurchefant feels about his family in this fic is just so real and visceral because of course it's super complicated. Once again, I like Edmont being a good dad, but realistically, it's shades of gray. Another thing about Haurchefant that not only this fic does but a lot of other people also head canon, is that his selflessness and willing to give can be self destructive at times. Once again, not gonna spoil, but it's just super heartbreaking to read Haurchefant be almost hypocritical, telling his friends to take care of themselves only for him to almost completely disregard himself. That's kind of what he does at the Vault in the first place, like that man died knowing that he did the right thing and protected his friend and oh god I'm gonna cry again I should stop talking... (I am not even kidding when I say that I will eventually write a Haurchefant character essay...)

Unicorn's Favor by Neyasochi

(Aymeric x Haurchefant x Estinien, yet another Haurche survives the Vault AU) Length: 34k Status: Complete Review: So, this is one of those fics where I feel Haurchefant is kinda just taped onto the Estimeric dynamic, and that's fine, it's whatever, I'm here for the porn and the banter. The premise of this fic is that Haurche helps get Estinien and Aymeric together and then smutty gay things happen. And that's all well and good BUT I NEED TO TALK ABOUT THE FORTEMPS BROTHERS IN THIS FIC!!! *holds them gentle* For me, the best part of this fic was Haurchefant's relationship with his family which for a change, is NOT super angsty and complicated. It's all very heartwarming to see how in this fic the brothers get along very well (contrary to canon where unfortunately we know they were never very close) and to see Haurchefant really appreciate that he's still alive and gets to be around the people he loves more. It's just super cute and fluffy and now I just need fics like this in general. Yeah whatever it's not canon that the Fortemps bros actually like each other this much BUT IDC!!!! YOU NEVER SEPERATE TRIOS!!!! Speaking of trios, the Ishgard trio dynamic in this is yk it's fine it's whatever. In this particular fic, I find it quite cute that Haurche had a crush on Aymeric as a kid, so even if they aren't all buddy buddy in this fic there's still that lingering admiration and it's cute. I also completely swear by pansexual Haurchefant bc that man does NOT discriminate. Okay enough abt the French I will talk about the Italians (Romans) now.

Far colder on the earth than in the heavens by Altimas_Bane

(Galvus family things) Length: 7k Status: Complete Review: I told you I love my familial angst. No, I'm NOT okay. It DOES make me absolutely rabid that Emet Selch as Solus couldn't help but have some hope for the sundered because of Lucius because can you fucking imagine that??? Your son who gave you a little bit of hope for the broken, shattered people who replaced your brethren dies and that is the nail in the coffin. That is what makes you fully believe that they are unworthy. It was briefly mentioned in the short story "Through his Eyes", but Emet Selch had a little bit of hope for Lucius, and he was probably distraught when his son died. This fic goes over that agonizing feeling of watching someone slowly waste away from sickness. It is slow, it is painful, and it is gut wrenching. Idk man, just read it.

Son, Father, Emperor by January Blue

(Varis reflecting on his life and especially his relationship with Zenos)

Length: 12k Status: Complete Review: Heyyyyyy do you bitches remember when I said that Varis probably loved Zenos when he was younger but eventually held contempt for the monster he created? You all probably thought I was crazy for reading them like this BUT I'M NOT!!!!! Anyways fatherly angst strikes again (I am in shambles and this fic goes onto the list of fics that I will never read again for the sake of my mental health) LISTEN TO ME AND LISTEN WELL; Varis and Zenos' relationship isn't so black and white. No I'm not defending Varis- but come on the entire Galvus family is fucking crazy man. Anyways, to quote the comment I left on this fic because I do not want to repeat and retype it myself: "Varis, in a lineage of men that are strong, born into the arena that is politics, is WEAK because he is EMOTIONAL. Solus/Emet Selch calls him emotional in the cutscene he was introduced in (unless I'm hallucinating) and that SENT me because I was forced to rethink all of the information we had been shown of Varis until then. I wrote him off as a shallow villain but I did some digging and Varis is surprisingly the most empathetic in the Galvus household and it SHOWS whenever Solus berated him in cutscenes." Varis had emotions, he had morals he had a line that he would not cross. He has been shown to be merciful (when we parlayed with him in the Ghimlyt Dark) and it's known that he at least cared for his late wife, Zenos' mother. Obviously, he would extend that to his son at one point, right? Perhaps when he was still young and unmarked by the world- right???? See, I really like this fic because it frames Varis' absence from Zenos' life as unintentional, but at the same time, it does not absolve him of the fact that he is a terrible father. I don't want to say too much because I would very much like it if YOU, my dearest reader, took as much emotional damage reading this as I did- but I digress. Varis and Zenos' relationship is not as simple as "Varis hates Zenos" there's obviously some shades of gray here. I personally believed that there's no way Varis hated Zenos because Zenos' mother died in childbirth, and clearly, other people think the same. Listen, you don't just hate your own flesh and blood, at least, not from the very beginning. It's a slow process, and I know it in my heart of hearts that Varis regretted what he let happen to Zenos This fic is just so wonderfully written and I was actually kinda bouncing around my room reading this. Once again, major daddy issues, so maybe that's why I like believing that Varis loved Zenos once upon a time. Something, something, father's love their kids until they grow a mind of their own.

And that's my list! In the future as I make my way through fanfics I have marked for later due to spoilers, I might make another one of these because I think people need to read this shit!!!!

If one of your fics is on here please send me an ask so that I might go back and edit this to tag you!

[gayest-squrrel]

doodle page for the fanfic Zuko Alone hehehehe

you should totally read it.....

[luminousjellyfishy]

Hey look I'm capable of writing?? Woah???

It's a oneshot, so it's not too much, but I'm still proud that I wrote something.

~

Haunting Lullabies

Characters (all Sanses from UTAU/MV): Nightmare, Killer, Dust, Horror, Cross

Word count: 3609

Trigger warnings: Swearing and harsh teasing (it's pretty much bullying)

Summary: Nightmare tasks the gang with watching a child for a day while he's out, thinking things will go smoothly. To his dismay, they don't.

~

The Bad Sanses were sitting in the living room, Nightmare on his chair, Killer and Dust sharing the larger couch, and Horror and Cross sharing the loveseat. Error had been absent for the majority of the day, either off destroying or hiding away in the Anti-Void. The five present members were each doing their respective hobbies in relative silence, enjoying the calm evening after a long, tiresome day of causing havoc throughout the AUs.

Nightmare took a rather large sip of his coffee, then said abruptly, “I feel that I should let you know ahead of time that Error and I will be gone all day tomorrow, and in our absence the four of you will be looking after a child. I owe a friend of mine a favour and it seems that… babysitting, is the task they’ve chosen.”

This sudden comment drew the attention of everyone in the room, actually resulting in a true, pure silence. Panicked eyelights were darting around the room between one another and Nightmare, desperately hoping that they had misheard.

“What…? Boss, what do you even mean? A kid?” Killer started suddenly, confusion all over his features.

“Please tell me it’s not a human.” Dust added, his eyesockets wider than his usual apathetic appearance allowed.

A small chuckle from Nightmare, “No, he isn’t a human. He’s a skeleton monster like yourselves. However, he is quite fragile, so please do be careful with him. I can imagine that you’re all wondering why I don’t watch him, as I’m the one who owes the favour, and the answer is quite simple: I don’t want to.”

Cross stared agape at the smirk on Nightmare’s face, apparently not understanding how one could just not follow through on a debt just because they “didn’t want to”.

“Is something the matter, you two? You seem awfully quiet and I thought you’d have more to say on the matter.” Nightmare asked Cross and Horror in a low voice, however completely unthreatening.

“Well, I don’t really know much about takin’ care of a kid… the best I got is Aliza.” Horror said slowly, evidently still processing the situation. Cross quickly nodded in agreement, still silent.

“I mean, you’ve had Chara living in your skull for a while now, so you’ve still got a step up above the rest of us. I mean, I guess that I worked with Chara for a while, but they were a maniac, so I don’t think they really count…” Killer said to Cross; however, quickly trailing off in uncertainty.

“I killed my human.” Dust added softly.

“What’s that gotta do with it?” Horror asked, now looking at Dust.

“I don’t wanna accidentally kill the kid we’re supposed to watch.” He answered.

“Trust me, that won’t happen.” Nightmare replied, doing little to alleviate his concerns.

Silence followed briefly before Cross said, “So how old is he? Is there anything specific we should know? Is his magic stable? You said that he’s fragile, so will we need to dedicate certain times to healing? We need so much information to make sure we don’t kill him!”

Nightmare seemed to ponder the questions for a small moment before replying with a smile, “He’s a few months past 6 years old, however he looks, acts, and thinks much older. He doesn’t have much usable magic, so you won’t have to worry about that. While he is fragile, there is nothing you can do to help, so no amount of healing will do anything. Just keep him comfortable and entertained and you’ll all be fine.”

“You really seem like you’re purposefully not telling us shit about him.” Killer commented, shaking his head in disbelief.

“That’s fully intentional, but please, do not worry too much. You’ll be fine. When you all wake tomorrow, I’ll be gone and won’t be back until late at night. He will most likely be here before you wake, so please try not to sleep in too much.” Nightmare replied with a soft smile and laugh at the end.

A pained groan quickly erupted from both Killer and Dust at the knowledge that they won’t be able to sleep in.

Nightmare laughed again, shook his head, and refocused his attention back onto his book.

~~~~

The child had been roaming the halls of the mansion for quite some time now, admittedly getting rather bored. He had pondered causing chaos multiple times since Nightmare left, but has decided against it every time… well. Every time but this one it seems.

He ran to the laundry area, in the hopes to find some buckets. After a short amount of time spent rummaging around, he finally found a few beside a washing machine. A silly, evil giggle erupted before quickly being silenced, even though he was two floors beneath anyone and he knew that no one had woken up yet.

He ran as fast as he could to the bedroom wing on the second floor, holding several buckets. After reaching the wing, he quickly made his way to Error’s room, hoping desperately that there was leftover string or yarn from the many dolls and scarfs that were so often being made. To his excitement, he found a rather large amount of lime green yarn that would work perfectly.

He set to work, filling four buckets with water and attaching fairly intricate pulley systems to each, rigging them all to dump at their perfect moments.

Now to wait…

He sat down quietly against a wall across from the bedroom doors and began to sleep. Or at least what appeared to be sleeping from an outside perspective. He had actually just entered a semi-unconscious daydreaming state that could easily be disrupted.

Time quickly passed with the child sitting on the floor.

Suddenly, a tired groan from one of the rooms awoke the child from his trance. He quickly stood up, waiting for whoever it was to leave their room. Some shuffling could be heard from what the child knew to be Killer’s room and they could barely contain their giggle when they heard him approach the door to come into the hallway.

The doorknob turned and the system was set into motion.

Killer opened the door and walked out, surprised to see the child waiting there, but raised his hand to say hi.

Out of nowhere, a bucket of water dumped onto his head, drenching him completely and resulting in a loud, startled yell of utter confusion.

The child burst into fits of laughter, unable to contain it any longer.

All the sudden commotion woke the other sleeping skeletons and forced them out of their rooms to see what the problem was. As soon as their doors opened and they walked out, buckets dumped cold water onto their heads.

Everyone was completely confused and staring at the child with reactions that varied from amusement to pissed off. The child in question was currently on the floor dying of laughter because apparently he found their suffering and misery to be hilarious.

“Ok… what the fuck? Huh??” Was all that could be said from Killer, still staring at the skeleton child on the floor.

Dust didn’t even bother saying anything about the situation, he just shook his head and turned back into his room to change.

There was a moment of stunned silence before Horror slowly approached the child, asking quietly, “I take it you’re the kid Nightmare wants us to watch?”

The child took a second to calm down, but then looked up at the large skeleton ahead of him and quieted down slightly, however still letting out copious amounts of giggles.

“Yeah, that’s me. My name’s Lullaby. You’re Horror right?” another burst of giggles, “Sorry about the water, I just got super bored because you were all sleeping and I didn’t know what to do.” The child, now Lullaby, answered through more laughter and wide smiles.

Cross looked around the hallway, noticing the very complicated design of the yarn attached to all four of their rooms, then back to Lullaby, very confused as to how a 6 year old managed to accomplish this, and wondering how long they had been here.

“You set all of this up?? How long have you been here?” Cross asked incredulously before Horror could think of a response.

Lullaby smiled innocently before saying, “I’ve been here for about 2 or 3 hours? Setting this up only took about 15 minutes, though.”

“Ok hold up, I need to wrap my head around. You’re telling me, this 6 year old brat that Boss is forcing us to watch set this all up in 15 minutes? I don’t buy it.” Killer said in a dark tone of voice, very tempted to summon some of his knives and get rid of this nuisance.

“Killer, calm down. It’s just water and not that big of a deal.” Horror grumbled in his raspy voice, watching carefully to make sure he didn’t try anything.

Killer just scoffed and turned back into his room, clearly annoyed.

“Don’t worry too much about him, he just gets… grumpy. Especially this early in the morning. Well, it’s early for him anyways.” Cross chimed in. He was still soaked in water, but was very clearly amused.

Dust finally came back out of his room, dressed in clothes perfect for lounging around the house all day. He approached Lullaby and kneeled down so they were on the same level.

“Good job, kid, I’m impressed. Not just anyone can piss off Killer so fast.” He said with a wide smirk on his face and held his hand up for a high five. Lullaby gave him one with a smile stretched wide.

“I know, I know. I should be a professional shit disturber, right?” Lullaby asked, his smile still going strong.

Cross and Horror broke out into small fits of laughter, clearly not having expected that, whereas Dust just raised his ‘eyebrows’ in surprise.

“You totally should, that sounds like a great occupation.” Cross replied, trying to steady himself. 

Horror nodded in agreement, then said, “I say we reward the newfound shit disturber with some nice cream.”

“Can I have some?” Killer called out from his room, still not opening the door.

Dust scoffed, “If you agree to play nice and not kill the kid then maybe we’ll consider giving you some.”

Silence followed for a few long seconds, when finally the door creaked open and out came Killer.

“Fine. I won’t kill him, BUT I will get my revenge.” He said maliciously, eyesockets narrowed at Lullaby.

“Oh noooooo, I’m so scared.” He muttered to himself; however, Killer unfortunately heard.

“I’m trying to be nice, and this is the reaction I get? Nah, I’m going all out. You’re going to regret coming here, kid.”

“We’ll see.”

~~~~

As the day passed by ever so slowly, Killer stayed true to his word. He had his fun torturing Lullaby, by first stealing his nice cream, then scaring him multiple times throughout the day, then taking away anything that he had been enjoying, and many more things that progressively got worse. He would taunt him and insult him, commenting on his broken and damaged bones, calling him names, teleporting him to parts of the mansion furthest away from anyone else, making fun of his purple clothing, and just overall making this day very unpleasant for him. The others tried intervening when they could, but there was only so much that they could do.

At one point, Lullaby seemed to have a mini panic attack that caused Killer to slightly falter, but not stop.

Cross, Dust, and Horror all talked to Killer, trying to get him to stop, but they were all met with a shrug and a comment similar to, “He knew what he was getting into. Besides, it's not even that bad, I’m just teasing him. It’ll help toughen the kid up!”

Eventually, Lullaby started avoiding him, if he saw Killer come near, he’d leave immediately.

Around 8pm, Dust caught Lullaby hiding in a broom closet with his eyes shut tight and muttering something, seemingly talking to someone. He stepped inside and closed the door behind him, making enough noise so his presence was obvious. Lullaby looked up at him, startled as he sat down.

“Are you alright, kid? … No, that’s a stupid question. Killer’s been a complete jerk to you and it’s not fair or right. He’s not used to talking to people outside of our group unless he’s killing ‘em, so he might think that this is ok behaviour. I mean, fuck he’s always doing it to me. Well, not to this extent, but still…” Dust whispered to him, not wanting to draw outside attention. Lullaby’s shoulders sank and he hugged his knees tightly.

“I just thought it would be funny… I figured he of all people would agree. Do you think he hates me…?” He asked reluctantly. Dust’s head snapped towards him, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape.

“No, kid. Not at all. He’s just a massive hypocrite who can dish it out but can’t take it. Stars, it’s nothing against you.” He shook his head and pulled Lullaby closer to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. He felt him tense up at the contact and quickly let go.

Lullaby looked away with a sad expression on his face and nodded, standing up to leave. Dust followed suit, opening the door and walking out.

The two walked the halls towards the kitchen, hoping to meet Horror there, but being intercepted by Killer. Lullaby hid behind Dust, grabbing onto his sweatshirt and careful not to touch his scarf.

“Awww, is the little baby hiding behind Dusty? C’mon kid, I thought you were better than that. Aren’t you the one who said ‘we’ll see’ when I told you that you were gonna regret coming? You think that was a little cocky of you? Maybe you regret your stupid your stupid water prank?” Killer taunted, his voice chock-full of spite.

Dust glared at him, “Seriously? He’s 6, Killer. He dunked you with water, because it’s funny. I thought you of all people could take a joke. You’re way out of line. How the hell do you think Boss is gonna react when he finds out how you’ve been acting? We were charged with watching the kid and making sure that he’s ‘comfortable and entertained’, neither of which you’ve been doin-”

“Aw come on! I’ve totally been entertaining!”

“Leave him alone. If I find out that you’ve continued antagonizing him, there’ll be hell to pay.”

A quick, unreadable look from Killer, and he was gone.

Dust turned to take Lullaby’s hand so they could keep walking, but quickly saw that he was crying. He kneeled down and used the sleeve of his shirt to wipe away the violet tears that looked much more oily than a regular skeleton’s tears would. After wiping them away, they seemed to stain his bones a much darker colour than the tears were. It was almost black and caused Dust to do a double take.

“Kid? Why a-”

“He’s just like them.”

Dust sat in silence, his ‘eyebrows’ scrunched in confusion.

“Whatever, it doesn’t matter. I don’t care. I’m staying.” He muttered to himself, but Dust could tell that he seemed to be telling someone else that he was staying. Someone that wasn’t himself or Dust.

The two of them stood up, and resumed their walk to the kitchen.

They walked in silence, eventually getting back to a sight that they didn’t expect.

Killer was sitting at the dinner table, his head in his arms and Cross beside him with a resigned look on his face.

Dust could feel Lullaby tense up, but neither said anything.

Killer looked up and his teasing stature seemed to crumble.

There was silence for a moment before he began, “Listen, kid. I’m sorry. I’m sure they’ve told you that I ‘struggle with emotions’ or whatever crap excuses they tried to give you to cover up for me. I dish out my pranks and comments to everyone, but I don’t know why I’ve been especially mean- no, cruel. To you. I guess I was taken aback that you got me first, so I tried making up for it like this. So I’m sorry.”

Lullaby said nothing, but Dust felt his grip loosen.

“I get if you don’t wanna talk to me or anything, but I just wanted to tell you that I really am sorry.” Killer muttered resignedly as he got up from the table and began to walk towards the door.

When Killer passed by Lullaby and Dust, Lullaby quickly grabbed onto him, pulling him tightly into a hug.

Killer stared down at him in shock, then slowly hugged him back.

“It was nice to hear you say that, but I can’t make myself believe it.” Lullaby said, dropping his arms and pulling back so tears could be seen to form in his broken eye sockets, “I don’t want to do this anymore. It’s too cruel. You’re great people and it was nice to meet you, but I really wish we could have started off better. Maybe I’ll bring myself to speak to you again later.”

Everyone’s faces shifted from confusion to shock when Lullaby’s body began leaking a dark substance from its crevices and orifices, especially his right eyesocket.

Slowly, Lullaby was completely engulfed in the goo, all of his injuries hidden and the hole where his right eye should have been was covered. Finally, his eyelight changed to a cyan slit and his demeanour changed from being a scared child, to that of a very pissed off King.

Nightmare glared at Killer, his tentacles lashing around violently, displaying his anger.

“You have no idea how much shit you’re in, Killer. It never occurred to you that maybe you should stop when you triggered him into having a panic attack? You never stopped to wonder why he did so? Why he hid?” He hissed, his tentacles sharp and pointed at Killer.

“I didn’t stop to think. I was upset that he got me fir-”

“I heard your whole speech earlier, don’t waste my time by repeating yourself.”

There was silence as Killer looked to his feet.

“Can’t explain yourself? Fine, then don’t. I don’t care to hear it anyways. As for my explanation, Lullaby is the name my past self goes by, as the name ‘Nightmare’ contains far too many negative connotations and memories. He follows me as a ghost that I can see and communicate with. I’ve been watching you all day, and honestly Killer, I’m very disappointed. You practically reenacted the worst years of his life. Of course, your ‘apology’ helps your case; however, I’m still quite upset.” Nightmare scolded, still glaring at Killer.

“He wanted to meet all of you, so we agreed that today would be a good day to do so, as Error would be out and we had no plans. I want to thank the three of you,” he looked to Dust, Horror, and Cross, “for assisting and comforting him. I appreci-”

“I’m so sorry.”

Nightmare looked back to Killer, only to see far less Hate leaking from his eyes, however being replaced by his red tears.

“I didn’t know. I thought that we were just having some fun, but I guess towards the end, I was just being mean on purpose because I wanted to feel powerful. Ha… feel powerful over a fucking 6 year old. Man, I really am the worst…” Killer sobbed, trailing off at the end.

Nightmare’s tentacles calmed and rounded slightly at the tips. He was at a loss for words. It was a very rare occurrence to see Killer cry, but when he did, it was genuine.

Everyone was quiet, broken only by Killer’s weeping.

Nightmare sighed, then pulled Killer towards him with his tentacles, gently embracing him. The other three respectfully kept their distance.

“Lullaby said it’s ok. He doesn’t blame you and you shouldn’t blame yourself. We both knew what he was getting into by taking control; however, I cannot let this go unpunished.” Nightmare murmured, gently rubbing his back with a tentacle. He felt Killer tense up slightly and he could feel his dread radiating. 

“It’s nothing cruel or torturous, I assure you. However, you won’t like it.”

He could feel the others’ apprehension as he continued to console Killer.

“You’ll be taking care of everyone’s chores, you’ll be assisting Horror with dinners, and you’ll be going to bed at 9pm, all for a month from today.” He asserted, instantly feeling his disappointment, but also understanding. Dust cheered when Nightmare said Killer will be doing their chores, Horror groaned when he said that he’ll be helping in the kitchen, and Cross laughed at the fact that he’ll have a bedtime.

Killer pulled away, wiped his face with his sleeve, and nodded.

“You said, Lullaby followed you as a ghost, and that you heard me talking earlier, so does that mean he can hear me now?” Killer asked slowly. To this, Nightmare with a quiet sound of confirmation. “In that case, I’m sorry, kid. I really am.”

Nightmare’s eyelight flickered into Lullaby’s purple one, but he didn’t uncorrupt, instead he said in his lighter voice and with a smile, “It’s ok. I really don’t blame you. Personally, I would have revoked your nice cream privileges, but this will do.”

His eyelight flickered back to cyan and his smile changed to a smirk, “I actually think that’s a great idea. Fuck you, no nice cream for a week.”

Killer fell to his knees dramatically, seemingly mostly back to his old self, and yelled out numerous profanities.

Everyone laughed at the sight, Lullaby included.

~

So, this follows my headcanon that Nightmare is made up of three consciousnesses: the original passive Nightmare (he goes by Lullaby now), the Corruption (literal negativity - goes by C), and Nightmare (he's a combination of the other 2 - primarily has control of their body). Lullaby can take control whenever he wants since he's the original (the other 2 can't take it from him), and C can take from Nightmare, but Nightmare can't take from C. For about 2 centuries after the Apple Incident, C (he went by Nightmare to keep up appearances) had complete control over their body because Lullaby didn't want to interact with reality at all (at this point, he wasn't even following as a ghost, he was just gone). After those ~2 centuries, the combination between them formed and others would notice that Nightmare had significantly calmed down, signifying the formation of the current and most well-known Nightmare.

This is inspired by a YouTube video by AButterfly (www.youtube.com/watch?v=10iGbkHDafA) and I seriously suggest you watch it! Not even just for context, but because it's cool.

Thanks for reading! :D

[nostalgia-tblr]

lololol i just read someone saying You Need To Write For Yourself and that they set 'obtainable' goals of 5 comments per chapter and welp i hate to tell you this, Enlightened One, but for many many people on AO3 that would be an insanely ambitious goal. i've seen 10 chapter fics with less than 5 comments on the whole thing, ffs!

[qcomicsy]

Lately I've only been wishing to grab a comic about my favorite character and just have a genuinely good time reading it.