#oh and i also did an unrelated work drinks thing at a bar after and it was fun!

[notjanine]

i survived my first professional conference and learned that the most evil thing about networking… is… it’s kinda good……

[iamthunderhearmehowl]

BG3 Headcannon: Halsin's Daughter

Okay - like I said I was going to continue to work on this because it brings me joy. It maaaaay not be completely accurate to DND lore - but shit I'm trying my hardest (it's all new to me - also this is just for funsies.)

original head cannon post for this can be found here: https://iamthunderhearmehowl.tumblr.com/tagged/bg3-headcannons

Some things that came to mind: (NOTE: she is an adult in these darker themed cannons)

Per previous post; she is a druid, kind of. There's a twist. She believes that nature is choas, it's unrelenting, brutal/harsh. Nature is about survival - survive first and always; thriving is a luxary that few can afford. This more than likely comes from her being half drow and wood elf: she had to survive. Being an illigetimate bastard child of drow nobility and their slave; she was treated like dirt and frowned upon. Her mother used her has a house servant and a bartering peice. Had she been born a boy she would have probably sacrificed the babe (apparently male drow are on the bottom of the totem pole) - but since she is the daughter Halsin, the man whom was beautiful enough to be held captive and used - her mother saw her as a novelty and bartering peice. Guests needed entertainment for the night? Send in the bastard child. Oh noooo a guest spilt their drink? Send the bastard child. Oh you're feeling angry and want to fight something?? SEND THE BASTARD CHILD.

I don't think they would tell her exactly who her father is other than the large wood elf who could change into a bear and was pretty handsome.

I also want to add that - again - she is just as beautiful as her father IF NOT MORE. She has these beautiful doe eyes (the same color as Halsin's) and a kindness in her face.

When her mother married off her half sister to unite houses - she sent her off with her by force to be used as her brother in law's play thing. She was part of the deal. She knew she would be beaten everyday, tortured, etc. She had to leave, even if she died trying.

When she finally escaped the underdark she ran as far as she could - straight to baulder's gate where she ends up meeting Mol and working for The Guild. There, she honed her skill: mercenary work. Her specialty. It was easy for her as she could change into different beasts - they couldn't pinpoint a person.

EX: Oh Larry?? Yeah he went camping and got fucked up by a bear. He died of course.

She's not proud of all she's done, but again - Survive first; thrive later.

At some point she does begin to question who her father is. She begins digging around and getting info; leading her back to the land that was once shadows.

The first place she heads to is Last Light Inn; she honestly just wanted a bath and a warm bed after all the traveling. She is sitting at the bar having a drink when she notices a wood elf who is. . .quite large.

She obviously does not run up and say "Hi pops" oh no no no she would be concened that he would hate her just as much as her mother. Not to mention - there aren't many people who are fond of drows.

Halsin notices her as well - he can't quite put his finger on it but there's something familar about her

Okay so that's all I have right now. :) I hope you enjoyed this as much as I did and again - This is for funsies so it's not going to be completely accurate to DND lore or whatever.

NOTE: Also if there is anyone who is willing to have some fun RPing this, I am so down. I will make a discord and everything.

[suz-blog]

I didn’t even notice that I was doing it until my husband pointed it out when we were first dating, but if I ever nod off accidentally, the first thing I do when I stir is apologise. He asked me why i instinctively say sorry before I’ve even fully woken up, because “you’re allowed to have a little nap on the couch if you’re tired, babe”. And I thought about it, and realised that when I was a kid, if ever I fell asleep at any point other than in my bed at night, I got yelled awake. Even in situations that are totally normal for kids to fall asleep, like in the car, and even at an age where naps are completely developmentally appropriate and won’t ruin night sleep.

He was also shocked to learn I had no consistent bedtime and put myself to bed almost every night, because I was the only child of a single parent who owned a pub. Loads of pubs in the UK have a residence upstairs, including some ours, therefore she was on the premises and technically I was supervised, but she was downstairs working every night until 11.30pm, and if I tried to go into the bar for anything less than, “mum, my room is on fire”, she would scream at me to get back upstairs because I was contravening licensing laws and if an inspector saw me in the bar when the pub was open, she’d lose our licence (because people who check that kind of thing are definitely targeting the eight year old child of the landlady timidly peeping out from the kitchen and not 16 year olds trying to blag drinks underage) and then she’d lose her job and we’d lose our home and did I want us to be homeless?? So I just stayed up every night, because I wasn’t allowed to sleep anywhere but my bed and little kids aren’t great at impulse control when it comes to leaving the TV and putting themselves to bed.

After I had a kid of my own, I casually asked her, whilst discussing my own kid going from 3 naps a day to 2, what age I stopped napping. “Oh, you didn’t nap, not after the first few months anyway. You just stayed up. And then you’d fall asleep on the couch and I’d have to wake you up, or you’d fall asleep into your dinner! That was your best trick, you’d have food all over your face! I used to have to force it into your mouth because otherwise you wouldn’t eat it! Hahahahahaaa!”

So anyway, on a totally unrelated note I’ve suffered from lifelong insomnia and can’t fall asleep until I’m completely flat out exhausted, and also I’m terrible at reading my own hunger cues and knowing when I’m full. I don’t know why though, guess it’s just a mystery

[burytherosemarysprigs]

Oral Sadism and Literary Arguments

A/N : Ok, so, like enemies to lovers???? slow burn??? literature??? fuck me.

/ Masterlist /

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader (College AU)

Word Count: 6k

Summary: There’s probably only one thing worse than chauvinist literature, and that’s the sardonic boy who sits two rows behind in Lit class with his torn paperbacks and ineffable aversion.

“Well, I actually disagree with you,”

If you didn’t have that much self-control, you would’ve snapped the pencil you were holding in half, as you heard a deep voice speak up behind you, and before you could retort, Professor Gordon spoke,

“And why’s that Jason?”

“I think Bukowski was trying to present how men will hide their inner thoughts and feelings, really their sensitivity in that aggression as an attempt at protection.” Jason spoke up, his voice boiling your blood as the rest of the class stayed in relative silence, as you turned around to look at him as he stared directly at you,

“I’m sorry, protection? What part about misogyny and blatant objectification of women as only being sexual objects that can be discarded and picked up when he pleases passes as protection? Women that are empty and uncharacterised to the extent the reader begins to agree with Chinaski that yes, women are less. Women are not important. And women don’t require compassion and consent, what part of any of this reminds you about goddamn male – “

“All right, I think that’s enough for today.” Gordon interrupted your heated rant with a sigh, which you share and quickly turn around close your eyes to try and avoid the weight of Jason’s stare as Gordon begins to dismiss the class.

“All right everyone, I hope you took something useful from that discussion, though I’m not sure if you would classify that as a discussion,” He added sarcastically, before continuing, “I expect you all to have brief outlines planned out for next week, and please try to work as collaboratively as you can with your partner to do so.”

The last part was directed at you and Jason – though neither of you payed proper attention – while the rest of the class let out small snickers.

“Right then, class dismissed, and uh, you two, could you both please stay behind for a minute.”

Fucking great. You thought to yourself, even though Gordon didn’t specify both you and Jason, his tired expression tells you otherwise and you start collecting your notes and pens into your bag in a silent fury and made your way to the front of the class, where Gordon was leaning against his oak desk, watching both of you stand in front of him – not casting a single glance towards the other as you waited for him to speak. He sighs,

“I don’t think you both understand how frustrating it is when your top students both have it out for each other and can’t hold a single civil discussion before arguing like little children,” He begins, becoming more wary as he continues, “Which is why I paired you up for this assignment and I fully expect you both to work together, and I hope I can expect that from you?”

He looked at both of you with an expectant look, and Jason only nodded curtly as a response, and you did the same but decided to chirp in,

“That’s great that you think we’ll be able to work together, sir, but on a totally unrelated note, how would my grade be impacted if my partner was suddenly mauled by a car over the weekend and was unable to complete the project with me?” You spoke, voice deadpanning, as your professor barely restrained in a smile while Jason looked at you with an empty expression.

“I would say that would be a fail as you missed the premises of ‘working with a partner’, as well as some serious legal consequences.” He replied, somehow maintaining a serious look as he spoke.

“That’s great to know sir.” You spoke, nodding along before he dismisses you both, leading you to quickly walk out of the classroom, breathing out a sigh of relief as you see Barbara leaning against the wall, busy on her phone, waiting for you to come out.

“What took you so long,” She asks as soon as she hears your sigh, pocketing her phone, and linking her arm with yours,

“I swear to God, one day, I might as well skin him – “

“Look, if I had known before that you could be so dramatic, I would’ve told you to choose drama as your major.”

“Ha. So funny. It’s just – fuck him.” You say the last part under your breath as you turned around to see nobody in the empty hallway.

“You two are really something else.” She states, making you roll your eyes.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It’s supposed to mean that you and Jason are really annoying. And petty.”

“Well, he’s the one that needs to contradict and compete against every single fucking thing I say, every single fucking time! It’s really fucking annoying,” Barbara only rolls her eyes in amusement. “And Gordon paired us up together for this project, and, God, I just can’t do anything with him without wanting to punch him in his stupid face.”

“I know, and that’s exactly why Gordon paired you both up, he really likes you both and he wants you both to stop having this weird rivalry between each other.”

“Wait. You knew?”

“Well yeah. I’m his daughter.”

“Well, why didn’t you tell me then?”

“Because I like seeing you suffer.”

“You know, you’re a terrible friend.”

“Thank you,” She replies, with a small laugh, before she links her arm with yours again and whips out her phone to frantically shoot another text as she lets out a deep sigh. “Where is Steph? She took my car this morning and said she’d pick us up.”

“You let her drive your Bentley?” You ask, surprised she would give Stephanie one of her most prized possessions.

“Yeah, I know,” She spoke, absorbed in her phone, “But, she promised me that she would keep it safe, and we all know that I will kill her if something happens to it.”

“I do.” You reply, a small laugh escaping your lips before a blue Bentley pulled up in front of you both, causing Barbara to quickly pull open the door and shuffle inside, leaving you to chuckle to yourself before making your way to the back seat of the car, the blaring music making you wince as you enter the car but Babs quickly turns it off as both of you settle in.

“See! Your car is perfectly fine, just like I told you it would be!” Steph smugly announced, her blonde curls bouncing wildly as Barbara stared at her unimpressed, before both of them fall into their routine bickering as, this time, Babs begins to criticise her driving and apparent ‘mishandling of the most precious thing to me’, while you only roll your eyes at their antics before pulling out your phone to scroll through the messages you’ve missed throughout the day.

“Hey,” Steph’s voice shakes you out of your thoughts as you meet her eyes through the rear-view mirror, “What’s up with you today?”, her seemingly innocent question provokes a snicker from Babs – to which she receives a smack on the shoulder from you.

“What?” Steph inquires further.

“Nothing, why don’t you ask miss ‘I-fucking-hate-Jason-Todd’ here.”

“Fuck off, Barbara.” You grit out, glaring at her through the rear-view mirror.

“God, both you and Jason actually act like children,” Stephanie chimes in, “You’re both almost the same but you both compete against each other against every little thing – “.

“Are we done talking about Todd?” You retort, ignoring Steph’s comment, “I have better things to do than think about him.”

“Mhmm, sure.” Barbara winks at you and it takes a lot for you not to launch at her right there, in the car but Steph draws your attention away by babbling about some boy she met in her criminology class and the conversation in the car gradually fizzles out, until Steph asks,

“You guys heard about the party this weekend, right,” A matching ‘yes’ from you and Babs prompts her to continue, “Well, you’re going then, right?”

“I don’t know, but why’re you so pressed about it?” Bars questions, with a raised eyebrow.

“No reason, I’m just curious.”

“It’s Tim, isn’t it?” This time, you pipe in, and Steph almost yells,

“No. No, it’s not!”

“Oh my god. Of course it is.” Babs laugh echoes with yours as you eye Steph in the rear-view mirror, to see a blush dusting her cheeks as she quiets down.

“Whatever, are you coming or not.”

“After this conversation, yeah I am.”

“God. I hate you both.”

Standing in the corner of the party, nursing a red solo cup of something that burns your throat when you drink it, you regret not saying anything in the car against attending this party.

You’re currently standing alone, both Steph and Babs have completely disappeared into crowd, as Dick had shown up and quickly whisked her away as soon as you all entered the apartment, whereas Steph has promised to get you a drink about twenty minutes ago but never came back and as you try to block out the reverberating EDM music blasting through the room, you make your way towards the kitchen to re-fill your cup (the one that you went and got yourself), before something catches your attention in the peripheral vision.

It’s a wispy haired girl, her eyes smudged with mascara, backed against the wall of the kitchen – away from the main crowd, you could pick from her body language a sense of uncomfortability as she was drunkenly shaking her head at a man who towered in front of her, making you stop in your tracks to watch the scene unfold right in front of you, before quickly changing your course towards their direction, already knowing the identity of the man in front of the girl, without seeing his face.

“Hey, Cyrus, get the fuck away from her!”

As soon as you reach them, and the words leave your mouth, another raucous voice speaks at the same time as you.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

Cyrus and the girl in front of him stop at their hushed conversation, to look away from each other and face you both while you also look at Jason – with a shocked expression – standing next to you and before you can say anything, Cyrus lets go of his hold on the girl before turning to glare at you.

“I don’t see how any of this is any of your business?”

You restrain yourself from physically hurling at him and fist your hands at your sides before looking at him with an unimpressed look.

“I don’t see how any of this is your business either, Beck? Thought daddy said that he’ll pull you out of school if he had to deal with your stupid behaviour again, or did you forget about it?”

“I swear to god – “

He tries to step closer to you but Jason steps in front of you before he can do anything else, and mutters,

“How about you fucking walk away before something worse happens?”

Beck shrugs of Jason’s hold on him before walking away and pointing a finger at you.

“You’re such a fucking bitch, you know that?”

“Should’ve said that to your daddy when he said I was best fucking person he’s ever met.”

He looks at you wildly and is about to retort before one of his friends pulls his attention to a game of beer-pong happening in another corner of the party and the whole scene stops for a second. You watch with a held breath as within a fraction of a second, a cocky smile overtakes his face and his shoulders relax as he runs his hands through his dark hair, leaving with his friend and you quickly turn around to see the girl, still standing there, her arms wrapped around her body and a shocked expression on her face.

It takes you a second, but you manage to gently coax her to the hallway outside the apartment and Jason (unbeknownst to you) follows in your footsteps.

“Do you want me to call you a cab, or can I drop you off?”

She shakes her head and is about to say something before Jason interjects,

“I can take her home.”

Both you and the girl turn around and stare at him and you quickly shake your head, diverting your gaze away from him,

“It’s fine Todd, I’ve got this.”

He sighs.

“Will you just let me help her?”

“Well, I’ve already told you that I’ve got this under control, so I don’t see why you’re being so – “

“Oh - uh, you don’t have to worry about me, I can uh – go home myself.”

“No. I – uh mean, let us take you home just to make sure that everything will be okay.”

A meek smile overtakes her face as you squeeze her hand lightly and you offer a half-smile in return.

“Us?” Jason’s voice perks up and you turn around,

“Well, I don’t have a car. If you want, I can come with you and drop her off at her place but – “

“Yeah, sure. Come on.”

His voice is clipped as he moves past you both, turning around the end of the hallway, leading you both to quickly follow him as well.

“Wait. I never asked you for your name.” You gently rest place your hand on her shoulder, making her stop and quietly giving her name,

“It’s Anna.”

...

By the time you’ve left Anna’s apartment complex, the small talk in the car dwindles down as you both sit, unnerved in the dimmed light of the car, the silence suffocatingly awkward. It doesn’t change until he pulls up to the curb, facing the entrance to your apartment building.

“Thanks.”

It’s quiet enough that you didn’t expect that he’d actually hear you. Let alone, grab your wrist before you leave, an incredulous expression on his shadowy face.

“Thanks? That’s it. You’re not going to say anything about what’s just happened?”

“Well, what the fuck do you want me to say.”

“I don’t know.”

“Well neither do I. Look. Thanks for dropping me off and Anna. That’s it. I don’t have anything else to say to you.”

He doesn’t say anything and let’s go of his hold on your wrist before you quickly slip out of the car, not realising the force at which you push, slams the door shut, making you internally wince. But in your peripheral vision, you can see he doesn’t look at you, with his face staring forward and grip tight on the wheel.

His car’s gone further and turned the corner before you’ve even made it to the entrance doors, and you breath in the cold October air, letting the wind whip across your bare skin, goosebumps rising while standing in a pathetically insulating satin dress, your thoughts pummeling through your mind without fully understanding them and you sigh again.

“What did you say to him after that?”

“Babs, I’m already – “

You stop midway through your hushed conversation with Barbara to see a disheveled Jason noisily weave his way through the shelves, towards the table at the back of the library you had occupied with Barbara.

“Sorry, I – “

“If you weren’t really going to care about this assignment, you should’ve said something before showing up thirty minutes late.” You deadpan, voice steely and brows furrowed.

“Will you fucking listen to me?” he breathlessly cuts you off from saying anything else as he drops his books on the table.

“I’ll head out now.” Barbara mutters to you, squeezing your arm and slinging her bag over her shoulder before quietly slipping out of sight. You rested your chin in your propped arm, waiting for Jason to continue,

“Well, what’s your excuse?”

“I don’t have an excuse. I was caught up in call with my father, it ended up being longer than I expected.”

You stare at him for a moment, his eyebrows also furrowed and hair sticking in all directions as he breathes heavily.

“Whatever, just complete the outline of notes I made for you.” You replied, pushing pieces of sticky notes and highlighted papers, that you had been picking at for the past half hour, towards his direction.

In about fifteen minutes, you’re both working in relative silence apart from the occasional remarks on the thesis and clarification on handwritings. There’s also been the perpetual looks on Jason’s part, and regardless of how much you try to block them, it itches at you to confront him about his irritating tendency.

“What Jason? What do you want now?”

His expression is firstly, taken aback, and then he coughs before asking,

“Did you ever talk to the girl after the party?”

You nod slowly, eyes still trained on the table, curving letters on colour-coded sticky notes before replying,

“Yeah, Stephanie’s their R.A, so I went and checked up on them the day after the party, she’s doing fine.”

You think that’s the end of his curiosity, but the pit of anxiety in your stomach and his next question, makes you internally want to bang your head against the alder wood table.

“And, uh, what about Beck?

Now, you stop writing with your pen and look up at him instead, resting your chin on your propped hand again, with a bored expression splayed on your face to try and detract from the internal anxiety, for both yourself and him.

“What about him?”

He doesn’t say anything at first and for a moment you think he might snap like he did in the car a few nights ago, but he only closes his eyes in frustration as you cock your head to one side.

“If you’re wondering if he’s going to face consequences for what he does – then no.”

There’s no verbal response except for a quizzical expression and you almost roll your eyes at him.

“I swear to God Jason, do you live under a fucking rock?”

“I just – look if you’re gonna be a bitch about it, then fucking leave it.”

“Maybe if you’d like to stop yelling in the goddamn library, I can fucking say something.” You almost hiss at him, voice seething as you both glare at each other.

“Anyways, you probably know that Beck’s the son of the headmaster, yeah, yeah, anyways, he’s always been a fucking creep around parties, but he’s never like you know, ever gotten that far.”

Jason raises an eyebrow at your hushed whispers.

“Like, he just trails around parties looking to either fight someone or just annoy them the fuck out but usually someone stops him before he can do something worse. But, still doesn’t mean that he isn’t a fucking asshole anyways – and his dad and him have like the worst fucking relationship ever, he’s threatened to pull him out a bunch of times of school because he’s so shit.”

You lower your voice even further at the last past, that you’re not sure if he can even hear you.

“How do you know all this?”

You shake your head and trail your eyes back to the unfinished notes in front of you.

“That’s unimportant. He’s a whiny trust-fund brat and I don’t know why someone hasn’t punched him yet.”

That silences Jason for a moment. And the moment doesn’t last long before your phone’s alarm blares through the silence of the library and you quickly move to silence it and Jason eyes question you but you don’t respond, instead move to disorderly throw all the pens and highlighters into your bag and grab as many papers you could in one go before quickly whispering,

“I’ve gotta go.”

“Wait – “

“Look. I promised I’d help a friend out with something. I’ll let you know when I’m free again.”

Jason doesn’t have a chance to say anything else before you’ve flitted through the haze of bookshelves out of view.

“What happened to the guy your dad set you up with?”

“Darian?”

Babs doesn’t look up from her place on the vanity table as she touches up her makeup while you’re sat on the table with a plastic fork prodding the edges of one of the Halloween themed chocolate cakes Babs attempted to bake for the party.

“Yeah, the one with the hair, right?”

“The hair?”

She casts a pointed look at you through the mirror, but you only take in another forkful of chocolate icing before answering,

“Yeah, he had like the most voluminous hair I’ve ever fucking seen.”

“Really? Well he had the most boring personality that I’ve ever fucking seen.”

She barely contains a smile at your comment while her own snarky comment elicits a snort from you but before you can say anything else, the frantic clicking of Stephanie’s (beloved) d’orsay heels against the linoleum floor followed by her quickly making her way into the dimly lit bedroom causes the room to fall into silence.

“You’re not ready yet?”

Her voice holds an accusatory tone and Babs quickly scoffs,

“I’m trying. But somebody keeps distracting me by asking unimportant questions.”

“Excuse me. I’m trying to be a good friend and keep up with my friend’s life.”

“Please. It sounds more like you want to know more about Darian.”

Before you can retort to her statement, Steph’s voice cuts in,

“Darian? Who’s that?”

“A guy I went on a date with a while ago.” Babs replies with a roll of her eyes, pulling out a scarlet lipstick tube from her make-up bag.

“ – That your dad set you up with.” You finish for her and Stephanie laughs.

“Since when is Professor Gordon a dating guru?”

“Since fucking never,” Babs replies, this time, twisting the cap of her lipstick. “It was just some guy in the forensic unit that he probably felt bad for being single and alone, but he shouldn’t have, ‘cause he didn’t have a fucking personality even if he tried.”

“Well that sucks. Anyways, are you both ready?” She pulls out her phone out of the bag she’d brought and starts typing.

“Or, you know, at least tried to be ready?” This time, she eyes you pointedly and you let out a noise of protest while stuffing another forkful of chocolate cake in your mouth.

“I’m sorry not all of us have devoted our whole fucking lives curating every Halloween costume known to man!”

This was something you’d noticed since you’d come back to Gotham and had been forced to attend Halloween parties – nearly everyone you’d encountered was practically obsessed with the celebration – and one of those people was Barbara. So much so, that every year she held a Halloween party and planned it more profusely than you’ve ever seen her do anything else. Her love also came with a heightened scrutiny for your enthusiasm – or lack thereof – for the holiday.

Which was why you were currently sat, dressed in a black boat neck dress with a flimsy witch hat resting on your head as you decimated one of Babs’ rejected Halloween cakes – yet the worst part was that it was currently early December (midterms being pushed back made it impossible to have it in October) and the last thing you’d wanted was to attend this party but Babs had personally threatened to drag you there to complete her and Steph’s wish of doing a group costume.

“It’s only you, you know.” Steph retorts, head cocking to one side and blonde curls hanging over her shoulder, “Now, let’s go, let’s go!”

About three hours later, you’ve found yourself nursing a cup of cheap bar (the number, you’re pretty sure that you’ve lost count of), eyeing a clique of literature students, who are currently in the midst of an argument while you stand in the corner of the room, trying to avoid them recognizing you out of their peripheral vision.

“What’re you doing?”

“What the – “ You quickly turn around to see a tall figure dressed in black staring down at you quizzically, and then you realize that it’s Jason Todd.

“Todd, what the fuck do you want.” You hiss – not at all in the mindset to have a conversation with him at the moment – while trying to remain quiet enough so that you don’t attract any unwanted attention.

“I should be asking you,” He taunts back. “You’re the one sulking around the party and hiding in places.”

You don’t try to reply to his response but offer another front of argument that throws all sensibility of your previous claim of not wanting to fight Jason out of the window.

“I don’t fucking understand, why can’t you just leave me alone?”  

“Don’t flatter yourself. I’m just trying to talk to you and you’re blocking everyone’s way.”

“Well, I’m not moving. So, they can find another way.”

“Are you fucking serious,” His voice raises. “You’re actually acting like a – “

“Shut up. Will you.” You hiss, pushing both of you further into the corner, so the bi-fold doors hide you better from the view of the group.

“What are you – “

“Morgan and his stupid friends keep trying to argue with me about some shit literature and won’t leave me alone.”

“Why?” There’s an edge to his voice which you pretend not to hear by avoiding his eyes.

“Beats me.”

He falters at the hostility of the comment – or lack thereof and you don’t say anything else but instead move to carefully peer pass the maple doors to scan for the group you’ve been avoiding amongst the mass of people in the room and as soon as you can’t see them you quickly move past Jason, to the to the cantilever staircase, without registering Jason’s footsteps trailing behind yours until you’ve reached the top and the overwhelming music and yelling from the party subdues a little and you let out a breath of relief before you see Jason also reaching the top of the stairs.

“Are you fucking following me?”

“No. Barbara and Stephanie were looking around for you and I was helping them.”

That lessens your anger a little and then confusion settles.

“Why?”

“I wanted to apologise to you.”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in and find yourself a little speechless.

“I – I meant why were they were looking for me but go on.”

“Oh,” You think you see his cheeks tint pink a little but with the dim lighting dancing shadows on his face, you’re not sure. “Well, I wanted to say sorry about the last class we had with Gordon.”

He takes a pause to slightly mess with his hair by running a hand through it.

“You were right about Bukowski – I – I don’t know why I said all of that shit.”

Looking back at this moment, you think it’s not your brightest because somehow his rather heartfelt confession falls almost deaf on your ears and somehow the narrative in your mind shifts to something else entirely.

“Is this some sort of joke, Todd?”

“What?”

“Did Morgan put you up to this shit? I know you and I don’t get along but siding with him is real fucking low, you know?”

“I – “

“I can’t fucking believe that you’re listening to all their bullshit and agreeing with them. It’s so – “

“No. What the fuck is wrong with you?” He cuts you off and his voice raises considerably. “I’m trying to fucking apologize to you and all your doing is being a bitch again.”

That silences you, but he continues.

“You know, I’ve tried. I’ve tried everything to understand what I did to fuck up with you, I’ve asked Barbara and Stephanie and – just, fuck, why did I listen to Dick?”

He mutters the last part, but you catch it anyway but still no response forms in your head at all, instead new questions pop-up as Jason runs another frantic hand through his ruined hair before quickly thundering down the stairs, leaving you…

You’re not quite sure what you’re feeling but cold is one of them as you pull the pathetic lace sleeves down your arm to try and warm yourself but nothing happens and maybe you feel your eyes too heavy to keep open as tears brim at the corners.

“Hey – are you okay?”

Babs’ voice causes your head to snap upwards as you watch her quickly scaling the stairs, eyebrows furrowed together, and you offer no response until she reaches the top and extends her arms to pull you into a hug.

“You were right. Halloween really isn’t your holiday.”

“Could you please stay behind for a moment?”

Gordon asks of you as you’re heading out of the hall, and the pit of anxiety resting in your stomach throughout the class, blooms further as you wait on the side until all the hall empties and its just you and Gordon.

He doesn’t say anything for a while, until he finally sighs and looks at you with a hard expression – one you’re all too familiar with from when you were little –

“Concerning Jason,”

You nod. Since your argument two days ago, you haven’t seen him, and the guilt seeped in farther when his spot well behind you remained empty the entire lesson.

“He’s pulled from your partnership.”

“W-what?”

“He came to talk to me, saying that he can’t continue to work with you anymore on any further projects, and the last one I paired you up on should definitively be the last.”

“Sir, I – “

“Look, I don’t like to meddle in the private lives of my students, but this situation is too tiring for me not to say that whatever problem you and Jason have; fix it. I always find both your work fascinating and that goes for the assignment you both submitted before and I simply cannot allow your own vanities to cloud judgment over the fact that you and Jason are paragons at literature and in my books, are too quick-witted to allow this talent to be lost amongst petty arguments.”

“I know, I – “

“So, I hope you’ll resolve this issue before next week’s lesson?”

“I – yes. Yes, I will.”

“Good. You’re dismissed.”

“Can I come in?”

The situation that you’re currently in rolls over you in waves of guilt and anxiety as you stand in front of Jason, in a beige coloured hallway as he idly stands with the apartment door halfway open, hesitant at your words or more so at how you’re standing in front of his apartment with worn boots and a heaving chest. You’d finally taken heed of the advice offered from Gordon, Steph and Babs and even consulted Dick and mulled it over with your own guilt before trekking all the way to his apartment.

“Sure,” His voice sounds removed – apathetic enough that you have to refrain from wincing, as he opens the door further to let you in. “Are you okay?”

You don’t hear him as your boots echo against the hardwood floor as you enter the apartment building and the sudden realization that this is the first time you’ve seen his apartment settles in as you eye the dimly lit space, with books scattered on the coffee – most of them are torn, something you’ve always found a little endearing, though you won’t admit it. The room is an oddly home-y mixture of warm beige's and deep browns that you would’ve kept staring at if he hadn’t called out your name again.

“What?”

“I asked, are you okay? You’re red in the face and panting.”

“Oh, oh, yeah, I walked all the way here and the elevator was out of service, so I used the stairs.”

“Why did you walk, nearly twenty blocks?” He furrows his brows and you let out of a puff of annoyance.

“I – listen, I don’t want to argue with you,” You take a step closer and calm yourself before starting. “You – you were right, I was being a complete and total bitch to you without reason at that party and before that. It’s just – “

You stop, and release a chuckle before awkwardly asking, “I’m gonna need a drink to get through this, do you have any?”

Nearly fifteen minutes later, not as drunk as you need to be, but enough that it gives you courage to finally stop beating around the bush and talk to him so you move to see him also standing facing the open windows to the evening sky, the sun setting against the horizon as dusk settles and you motion for him to sit on the floor as you are and he slowly complies.

“Look, I know I’ve been hostile towards you since – “

“Why?” He interrupts, not looking at you and you sputter a little. “Why have you been so hostile to me.”

“Well, you should know, none of it was your fault – well, not directly.” You sigh.

“College was my chance to start over. You don’t need to know all of the other shit, but I just thought that this whole experience would make everything okay and I wouldn’t need to fight for every single thing in my life just to end up being sub-par. And, it was going great.” You slightly chuckle to try not to choke on your words.

“That was, until you came along with your prodigal capabilities in literature and it felt like everything was falling apart again. Because somehow, suddenly, I wasn’t Gordon’s favourite anymore and I wasn’t at the top of the class – and somehow, I wasn’t enough.” Your voice is a little more choked now as you kept looking forward, even though Jason had started watching you now.

“It just was like my entire belief system just got turned upside down.” You release a breath and let the silence settle after your words.

“Fuck, I just unloaded a crap-ton of shit onto you, and you probably don’t understand any of it. I mean, I’m drunk so I don’t understand either.” You laugh and try not to cry, even though you’re pretty sure you will.

“No, I think I understand sort of, too,” He replies, voice softer than you expected and you’re more surprised to see a small smile gracing his lips. “You’re not completely wrong about the whole belief system thing there, you know, Gordon’s classes meant the same thing to me too and I just wanted to enjoy something without having to fight my way for it but boy, did you make that hard.”

A breathy chuckle escapes you as he stops talking and you both sit in the silence until he pipes up again,

“If we’re trying to mend this whole thing then maybe you should want this back too,” His voice is cryptic as you furrow your brows in confusion and stare at him with a lost expression as he stands up to walk away and disappear into the hallway, out of your sight before quickly returning with something clasped in his hand while you raise an eyebrow at him.

“You dropped this in my car when we were heading back from the party with that whole thing with Anna. Dick found it the next morning and had a whole field day about it.”

In his palm, rests a single earring piece shaped like an olive branch which you thought you’d lost in the chaos of the party and you almost laugh.

“You know, I’m gonna pretend this isn’t too creepy and thank you for giving it back.”

“I was trying to give it back to you but you never wanted to have a single conversation with me so,” You roll your eyes before picking up the earring and hooking it back through your ear even though you didn’t have the other one on.

“Right, I get it, I suck.”

That causes him to laugh as he settles back down again next to you and he doesn’t look at you before saying,

“No, you’re not as annoying as I originally thought.”

You echo a ‘hey’ and lightly punch him and the silence envelopes you both – softly, and there’s a moment of peace you think you’ve both settled in and it feels nice.

le fin

(pt.2 will come)

[geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde]

He’s Not Important

Valdo is the perfect man, he really is. He’s thoughtful, he’s kind, he loves Jaskier. Jaskier wants something else.

Jaskier/Valdo (current), Jaskier/Geralt (past)

Warnings: Heavy angst, rough sex, violence, drug and alcohol use, dub-con*, adultery, toxic people and their toxic relationships, overuse of flashbacks, Valdo’s not the bad guy in this one, ending is ambiguous and all characters could be happy one day with a lot of therapy so y’know... *marking as dubcon because, at times, all parties were unable to fully consent due to drugs/alcohol and also the mental states of Jaskier and Geralt are questionable at *all* times

-

Jaskier smiled the most enthusiastic smile he could manage as Valdo opened the door to the restaurant, ushering him inside. He was doing his best to feel excited; it was their anniversary after all, and the restaurant was amazing, and he was here with his boyfriend of two years.

He worried his smile fell flat.

It shouldn’t, really. He should be thrilled, happy to be here. Valdo was amazing, the perfect gentleman at all times. He was kind and thoughtful and everything you should want from a partner. And every time he smiled at Jaskier and told him how much he loved him, Jaskier felt empty inside. There was no reason for this, Valdo was easily the best boyfriend Jaskier had ever had, certainly the kindest and most thoughtful. All of his friends were jealous, they looked at Valdo and saw the epitome of boyfriend material. He truly cared about Jaskier’s wellbeing, his thoughts, his feelings, it was amazing. It should be everything Jaskier needed from a relationship, everything he could want.

It wasn’t.

He craved more. He would lie awake at night remembering his last relationship, the fire that ran through his veins. The urgency, the passion.

Jaskier had never felt those things with Valdo.

It was like an addiction and he was hopeless to stop it. His skin itched as he tried to pick a fight, to get Valdo to raise his voice, to throw something at a wall. But he never did, Valdo stayed calm and kind and wanted to understand what was wrong, wanted to help.

It was too much for Jaskier.

Sitting across from Valdo in the restaurant, Jaskier knew that he could easily let himself stay in this miserable dead-end relationship. He would be fine.

Not happy. Never happy.

He would never be happy, though.

-

Jaskier groaned as his back was slammed up against the nearest wall. He felt Geralt’s mouth on his neck, biting down as he ground his hips against Jaskier’s.

They had been arguing, again. Geralt missed another dinner, one they had been planning for weeks. He said he was busy at work, that he got held up. He got held up at work a lot.

Jaskier had spent hours agonizing over the meal, cleaning the apartment, he had gone out of his way to pick up the hard-to-find imported beer Geralt favored. It was supposed to be special. But Geralt stumbled in two hours late, smelling like whiskey and cigarettes, excuses falling off of his lips as soon as he took in the sight of Jaskier sitting dejectedly at the table, the now cold meal still sitting in front of him.

The excuses were too much, making Jaskier see red. The next thing he realized, his plate was flying through the air, slamming into the wall behind Geralt, shattering all over the ground. And then Jaskier was pushed up against a wall, teeth digging into his neck. And then he was bent over the kitchen counter, more dishes being pushed off as he tried to brace himself. Geralt pushed into him brutally, making Jaskier grunt as he was rhythmically forced up against the cabinets. He groaned at the pain, already feeling the bruises forming.

-

“How was last week, by the way? When I was out of town. I hope you weren’t too lonely with me gone.” Valdo tried to strike up conversation as they looked over their menus. Jaskier didn’t respond.

-

Geralt was like a drug Jaskier just couldn’t seem to quit. Memories of their time together haunted Jaskier, he could still practically feel the man’s grip, tight and unrelenting, as he pounded into him from behind after they fought again. He could still feel his teeth biting down, too hard, always too hard, on Jaskier’s thigh, marking him, claiming him.

It was little surprise that Jaskier ended up back in Geralt’s bed despite their breakup, despite his current relationship with Valdo. But Valdo was out of town and Jaskier had an itch he needed scratched. And Geralt, well Geralt had always managed to scratch that itch better than anyone else ever had.

It was just a matter of sending a simple text, “you home?” and then Jaskier was in Geralt’s apartment, bent in half as Jaskier screamed out in a mix of pleasure and pain. Geralt was just as rough as Jaskier remembered him being, just as aggressive, just as uncaring of Jaskier’s pleasure, simply taking his own.

Jaskier loved it.

-

Jaskier smiled politely at the waiter as the man stumbled through taking their order, staring at Jaskier as if he recognized him. As he walked away, Jaskier couldn’t help but notice the tattoo on the back of the man’s forearm, a memory hitting him like a truck.

-

Jaskier leaned on the man in front of him, letting their bodies rub together. His hands were woven through the man’s hair. The man had a tattooed arm wrapped around him, one hand down the back of Jaskier’s pants, gripping his ass tightly and grinding them together, his other hand still holding the drink Jaskier had first approached him with.

He felt himself being moved backward, toward the bathrooms. He was desperate, the vodka mixing with the ecstasy in ways that clouded Jaskier’s head, making him whine, every sensation amplified tenfold. His head spun with lust and he felt himself pressed up against the door of the bathroom.

SMASH

Jaskier forced his eyes open, focusing on the sight in front of him. Geralt, hovering in front of him, Jaskier’s… friend’s drink, smashed on the ground, the man in question thrown on the ground. Suddenly, Geralt has a hand on Jaskier’s shirt, pulling and manhandling him out of the back exit of the club, pushing him up against the wall of the alleyway.

Jaskier keens at the first thrust, Geralt pushing into him with far too little preparation. The drag of skin on skin like lightning shooting through his veins. He’s achingly hard, crying for more, harder, and then it’s over. Geralt’s done, telling Jaskier to pull up his pants and hurry the fuck up so they don’t miss the last train.

Jaskier brings himself on that night sitting on the floor of the shower, his hands scraped and bloody from the wall in the alleyway.

He cries.

-

Jaskier leaned over the bar biting his lip as he practically stared down the shirt of the bartender, “Are you sure there’s nothing I can do to convince you to spend the night with me?”

She frowned back at him, “I saw you come in with your boyfriend.”

“He’s not important.”

Crossing her arm in front of her, she wouldn’t even meet Jaskier’s eyes, “I’m not a homewrecker.”

“You wouldn’t be wrecking any homes, like I said, he’s not important.”

“I can’t take you home, I have a roommate.”

Jaskier smiled, he had known from the moment he saw her he would have her, “Well then I’ll take you back with me.”

“To the apartment you share with your boyfriend?” She sounded skeptical, but not nearly as opposed as she probably should have.

“I’ll put a sock on the door, he can wait outside.”

“That’s fucked up.”

Jaskier shrugged, standing up to his full height and throwing back the rest of his drink, the burn in his throat sending warmth through him, “Do you want to fuck, or not? Because if you’re amenable, I’d like to spend at least an hour with my head between your legs.”

The woman glanced over his shoulder to where Valdo sat quietly, waiting for Jaskier to come back with the drinks he said he was going to get about half an hour ago. Jaskier had been hoping that maybe by flirting with the bartender, Valdo would get riled up, drag Jaskier back home and claim him, make him understand who he belonged to.

Instead, Valdo just… waited.

“You’re sure he won’t mind?” The girl finally asked.

“Doesn’t really matter if he does or doesn’t, I’ll get you off either way. Three times if you behave.”

The woman flushed and grabbed a piece of paper, scribbling her phone number on it and sliding it across the bar, “I’m off work at three.”

“I’ll text you where to meet me.”

…

“She seemed nice!”

“She wants to fuck me,” Jaskier responded dully, throwing her number on the table in front of Valdo so he could see her name scrawled on it.

Valdo smiled back at him, “Well of course she does. Look at you. If I didn’t already have you then I would be trying to get your attention too!”

“I want to fuck her.”

“Oh… well, I don’t blame you. She’s beautiful. And like I said, so are you. I’m lucky to have you.”

Jaskier stands up abruptly, grabbing his jacket, “I’m leaving.” He storms out of the building.

Hours later when he stumbles into their apartment, smelling of whiskey and cigarettes and a woman’s perfume, Valdo asks no questions, just helps Jaskier clean up and makes sure he’s okay.

-

The meal came and they ate in silence, Jaskier focusing on his plate until Valdo cleared his throat. Jaskier looked up, trying hard to not look bored and undoubtedly failing. Valdo stood from his seat, kneeling on the floor beside Jaskier.

Fuck.

“Jaskier, I love you so much and I can’t imagine spending the rest of my life without you. Will you marry me?”

Jaskier felt like the world was spinning around him, crashing down. His cheat seized; his hands shook. He needed out.

“No.”

-

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[bluemusickid]

𝓕𝓮𝓶𝓶𝓮 𝓕𝓪𝓽𝓪𝓵𝓮

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Conwoman!Reader

Warnings: smut, 18+, unprotected sex (do not recommend, pls be wise) Ransom's hurt ego/pride.

A/N: I love Ransom so much. I'd probably let him get away with murder, which is probs wrong since I'm a law student. Anyways, hope you enjoy!! Also the writing is crap and not at all intelligent, I just needed to let off some Ransom steam. ^_^

I post my stuff here and on AO3, nowhere else. 

You took a sip of your martini. Perfect. The one thing about these high end resto-bars was that they never went wrong with their martinis. Always the right balance of sweet and intoxication. If only you could always afford these places.

You didn't mean to sound bitter, oh no no. Life has worked out better than expected. Your way of life got lonely sometimes, but survival of the fittest was the way of life, right?

In your experience, doing what you did, you realised that men were very literal creatures, always thinking linearly. Most of them lacked any depth to their thoughts, their way of life. The rich ones? They were as deep as an above ground pool. Throwing money every chance they got, flaunting their first row seats at the operas, trips to their villas in the French Riviera and what not. Their wives had no idea, always doting after their perfect husbands, with their Himalayan Birkins.

Imagine the surprise these men felt when you took what was most precious to them; no, not their families or children, but their money. A woman, no less. A woman who they had considered a damsel, in need of pearls and diamonds, and their strong strapping arms and care. And they didn’t dare report this. How could they? As far as their wives were concerned, you didn’t exist. You snorted. Good riddance, and all that. 

That’s why you chose him.

Hugh Ransom Drysdale.

He wasn’t a different one, that's for sure. A pretty boy with arrogance dripping off of him like he had just stepped out of a swanky prep school. He screamed rich kid, with his perfectly coiffed hair, right to his buffed fingernails. 

This should be easy, you thought to yourself.

You walked passed him, swaying your hips ever so slightly. Your look for tonight was carefully calculated: bait for a good, prize catch. There were many men there, sure, ordering crates of champagne for their "business associates".

But this one was different. He didn't pay heed to you as you made your way towards him, placing yourself next to him at the bar, nor did he check you out like most men did. He simply took a swig of his drink, focusing hard at something in his phone. Weird. You chose to give him the benefit of the doubt, calculating his next move. Surely, he'd ask to buy you a drink. He was just playing hard to get, you were sure. His next move stunned you, however.

He got up, slid a 100 dollar bill on the counter, and walked away, his jacket slung over his arm. You blinked, not really understanding what had happened. You ordered a red wine, quite perplexed. This was perhaps the first time something like this had happened, and it quite perturbed you.

You didn’t have time to dwell on your thoughts, however, as the bartender slid a coaster towards you.

“Mr. Drysdale sends his regards.”

You frowned. Drysdale? The famous real estate mogul? Man oh man, this was gonna be good.

You smirked as you read the scribbles on the coaster. To think you thought that he was gonna be different. Oh well. Room 537 it is, then.

You made your way to the room, checking your makeup and spritzing on a bit of perfume on the way. Standing outside his room, you knocked three times before the door swung open to reveal a treat.

Mr. Drysdale, sans shirt and his tight dress pants. Yum.

You composed yourself and entered the room, remembering the fact that you had a job to complete.

“So, that’s your game?” you asked, setting yourself down on the settee by the minibar.

“I don’t play games.” he said, pouring an amber liquid from the crystal cut decanter.

“Then why bother giving me your room number?” you drawled, accepting the glass.

“I know you wanted me to chase you. Knew it from the moment you entered. But that’s not how I work. I get what I want, and I wanted you.”

“A real charmer, aren’t ya?” you said dryly.

“Let’s cut to the chase sweetheart. You want me, I want you. Simple.”

“How can you be so sure that I want you? I could have just come up to confront you or something.”

“Yea, right. That dress says differently. You know what you want and you were going after it. I just skipped a few steps along the way. You’re welcome.” he smirked, raising his perfectly shaped eyebrow at you.

“So now that your plan has come into play, what do you suggest we do?”

He grinned and took a swig of his drink. Placing his drink on the counter, he took your hand in his and pulled you up, pulling you tightly to him.

Leaning towards your ear, he rasped, “I’m gonna fuck you till you can’t walk.”

With that, Ransom didn’t waste any more time. He picked you up bridal style and tossed you on the bed, without any preamble.

“Last chance to leave, kitten. Whaddaya want?”

You gulped. You wanted this, you needed this. You didn’t bother answering him as you pulled him down by his tie, lips melding against his as you held onto his collar. He was surprised by your sudden attack, but reciprocated equally, if not with more ferocity.

Lowering you onto the bed, he yanked the thin straps of your dress down, sucking at your pulse point, his hands caressing your body. You moaned, feeling his actions go straight to your core, lighting you up from within. He pulled the dress down with urgency, freeing your breasts from their confines.

Taking a hardened nub in his mouth, he swirled it around his tongue as his hands wandered lower. He was about to pull your dress up, when you stopped his wandering hands, pushing him off you, as he looked at you, bewildered.

“What the-!” he began but you quickly silenced him with your lips, your hands working double time to undo the buttons of his shirt. You deepened the kiss pulling him by his tie, while grinding against him ever so slightly. He broke away from the kiss, panting; his eyes wide, an unknown emotion swirling in the midst.

“Oh sweetheart.”he growled, “You’ve awoken the beast, now.”

With that, you were lost in a frenzy of movements. He nearly ripped your dress off, throwing you on the bed, caging you underneath his body. Lowering himself, he nipped and sucked at your neck, your collarbone, your breastbone, his voracious tongue leaving fire in its wake. You gasped, fingers making their way to his messy locks. What had started off as a game, a new target, was quickly becoming something more, and that thought scared you.

Eyes on the prize, sugar. Let him lead.

His tongue was drawing circles on the tattoo at your abdomen, while his fingers were at your core, his thumb lightly nudging your clit. Jesus. Your hips moved of their own accord, tugging at his hair in silent plea. Looking up, he saw your need and whispered lasciviously, 

“I’m gonna make you scream till all the other floors know my name, sweetheart. Just need to get you nice and ready for me. Wouldn’t want to break my promise now, would I?”

With that, you felt your entire focus shift to your core, as his intrepid tongue drew patterns on your clit, his digits moving within your wet channel. You groaned, tugging on his hair, bringing him closer to where you wanted him. You felt your walls tightening, the coil in your belly ready to unwind. He withdrew his fingers, moving up swiftly, gazing into your indignant eyes.

“Only time you’re gonna come is on my cock, sweetheart.”

With that, he thrust himself inside you, your walls engulfing him. Luckily for you, Ransom didn’t do sweet, slow thrusts. He set up an unrelenting pace, spearing into you, his shaft reaching places which no man had been able to reach before. You groaned, closing your eyes, your head jerking to the side, unable to handle all the sensations he was invoking.

Grasping your chin, he turned you to face him. “Eyes on me, sweetheart. I wanna see how good you feel while I’m taking you apart.” he rasped.

Something in his voice made you break; making you almost feral. You pushed on his shoulders, catching him off-guard for a minute, enough to push him on his back and straddle him.

Leaning down and catching his lips for a kiss, you whispered, “You should have the best view for a show like that, then.”

You sunk down on him, moaning loudly as you engulfed him to the hilt. Holding onto his hands for support, you began riding him for all your worth. Ransom watched on with awe, his eyes mesmerised by the sight of you; your eyes closed, mouth slack with arousal and your breasts bouncing with each bob. 

You were quickly reaching your peak and Ransom could feel that too. He planted his feet down on the mattress, thrusting upward, meeting you thrust for thrust. Your thighs started quivering, an intense pressure building up with each thrust.

“Come on, come for me, kitten.” muttered Ransom, through gritted teeth.

You threw your head back, screaming as you reached your peak, raking your fingernails across Ransom’s chest. As your walls clenched around him tightly,  Ransom grasped your waist, holding onto you as he thrust upwards, chasing his end. 

Leaning down, you took one of his buds into your mouth, swirling your tongue around as you met his eyes.

“Come for me, tiger.” you said huskily, tugging on his lower lip.

Ransom grunted and cussed loudly as he poured himself into you, his grip on your waist tight as he held you in place till he filled you with every last drop. Rolling off him, you watched him catch his breath, slowly drifting off, his arm encircling your waist as he went deeper into slumber.

After a few minutes, you checked on him, just to be sure. He was out cold.

You smirked. Alright. 

Time to start Part 2 of the Plan.

--------

Ransom woke up, feeling satisfied and smug. Yet another conquest down. He didn’t understand why women played these games women loved to play with him. Smirking, he looked over to look at you, but was surprised to see your side empty.

He frowned. Getting up, he checked the bathroom. Empty. 

She left without even giving her name. Ahh, well, not the first time this had happened. Moving to check his phone, he noticed his wallet open, with all the cash missing.

Oh, so that’s why she left. Wow, what a surprise, he thought. Good thing she didn’t leave a name, for she was no more than a common whore, he thought, puling on his pants. 

He was sorely mistaken though.

As he walked past the attached common area, he saw something which made him stop in his tracks.

The safe was wide open, with all of its contents gone. Every last thing.

He stormed into the area, his anger surging with each passing second. He couldn’t give less of a fuck about the goddamn valuables that were missing. But she had taken something which had taken him 3 fucking years to get. 

She had stolen the documents; not just any documents, but the very ones which would have bought the Langleys’ silence and their company, making Ransom a very, very rich man. All gone, because of a quick fuck.

The bitch had stolen his ace of spades. And he would make sure that she would suffer. 

Ransom would make her pay. By hook or by crook.

-----

A/N: Eeeeek, I was too nervous to put this out ughhhhh. Also, I have a taglist now, if you’re into that sort of thing. 😅  (link is also available in my bio)

Tags: @donutloverxo​ @ozarkthedog​ @chris-evans-indian-fanfic​ @readermia​

[null-is-sparing-you]

OKAY I GIVE I HAVE TO TALK ABOUT THIS GAME OKAY

DELTARUNE SPOILERS BELOW THE CUT I REPEAT SPOILERS BELOW THE CUT

So I began taking reaction notes when I began playing the game but i kinda stopped after leaving the closet. Here's the summary:

THE BEDROOMS:

Their existence seems like bad news.

I noticed how the part associated with Asriel's side of the room is dark while the other side is colored.

BUT I also noticed that Susie's room fits exactly with Kris's room. Between you and me, I think that's going to be coming into play later, as in the rooms are going to be put IMMEDIATLY next to each other.

Anyone else get weird Deja Vu about the cloths ripping eachother to shreds part?

MISCELANIOUS:

Susie is very food driven.

Susie is actually very precious and thank Toby for Susie. I really needed that ability to make everyone act without having to give up an action for Kris.

Why does one soul affect everyone in the group? That's weird right? Like there are gameplay reasons but what about the practical reasons?

Did I mention that Susie is precious? See the way she acts when she enters Toriel's house?

Actually Susie seems like she may be homeless? She "only had chalk for breakfast" and drinks the milk Undyne leaves?

Oh yeah and she didn't actually call her parents DON'T THINK I MISSED THAT TOBY!!! Does she even have parents?

Complete side note, anyone else think the titan that's supposed to consume the energy from the fountains looks like Asgore?

Unrelated to any theories: The bar music puzzle looks kinda cool

OKAY now we are past that portion, let me tell you what I'm thinking.

Deltarune is about either depression, or a related topic. I had this theory even before the ending scene. I think Kris is living with their family having been ripped apart, and may be ripping out their soul regularly as a means to reduce the pain, even for a little while.

Before getting to the ending, I thought they were ripping it out and destroying it every night, but that bathroom scene makes me think differently. I think what's happening instead is that Kris is removing their soul regularly to get some sense of relief. Removing the soul might disable the conscience, and then Kris would go around and dump their feelings into anywhere they can (see: dark fountains).

This is... a problem though. We keep absorbing it back up, meaning the feelings wind up right back where they once were.

Or rather... this WOULD be a problem if it weren't moving Kris towards being in a better position.

Kris and Susie don't realize it yet but it's not the dark world that's giving them what they need. It's facilitating it, as a catalyst, but ultimately, I think it's just Kris and Susie needing each-other.

Susie pushes Kris to act out, yes, but is also starting to give Kris the real foundation they need. An outlet for negative emotions (which monsters don't seem to handle often?) plus someone who can acknowledge and handle the out of hand situation.

The way Susie acts in Sans when Toriel and Asgore bump into eachother... this to me says that Susie may be the first to actually be able to help Kris through that divorce.

The way Kris acts towards Susie is a bit harder to read, but I get the sense that Kris isn't looking to get rid of Susie. In fact, I think Kris is the first to really accept Susie for ALL she is. And by the end? I think that relationship plays heavily into what happened.

I think Kris got to the point where they don't understand much about how they feel, but they do understand that they feel happiest in the dark world... a place they've only been to with Susie. I think Kris also knows that in that moment, on that couch watching that TV, they don't want the moment to end.

I think that our little knight is struggling to maintain a moment of happiness and is afraid to let it go.

=======

Also one final thing to throw everything off: Asriel is dead and Asgore killed him.

Something took Asgore off the police force. What? We don't get to read.

I think Toriel is hiding this from Kris and possibly even Asgore too. Murdering children is not out of character for Asgore (remember Undertale), but... i don't think it would have been on purpose.

Toriel was working with a human. A determined human is dangerous, so Toriel would have good reason to hide the truth. But hiding it from Asgore as well would complicate their relationship significantly. Toriel likely sees Asgore differently, but because she never told him, Asgore lives in complete ignorance of what happened. And thus, the marriage crumpled.

This leaves Kris to live with a brother that suddenly cut him out, a mother that has suddenly turned cold and is clearly dealing with the emotional issues related to losing her son, and a father desperate to rekindle the relationship without understanding why it's even struggling in the first place.

Maybe some part of Kris knows what's going on, but can't accept it because it's too big of an emotion for their tiny body and lack of support. If so, it would certainly explain why Kris is struggling to the point of OPENING INTER-DIMENSIONAL RIFTS IN THE WORLD MADE PURELY OF EMOTION.

[sichengtual]

— summary: in which seungcheol, a high-collared executive at his dad’s firm, signs up for a fake dating service in an attempt to make everyone believe his life is more than just the office.

— pairing: choi seungcheol x reader.

— genre(s): fluff, humor, angst.

— au: fake dating, office.

— word count: 1676. 

— song of the chapter: full moon — the kinks.

masterlist. 

part one — congratulations, your request has been accepted!

“This is ridiculous.”

Seungcheol takes a sip of his drink as he turns to look at Mingyu. 

The younger is scoffing, eyes fixed on his phone, clutched tightly in one of his hands. 

“What are you on about?” Seungcheol questions, not prying his eyes off the documents laid across the table. He’s read them a thousand times, a separate sheet of annotations resting somewhere along the mess. He knows them by heart, even if it’s just been a few days since they were handed to him, but that was to be expected after the many hours he’d spent pouring over the words. “And now that I think about it, you still haven’t given me your notes on the case documents.” 

“Notes? It’s been two days, do you really expect me to have read all of it by now? Who do you think I am?” Mingyu exclaims. He sounds worried, and if Seungcheol didn’t know him like the palm of his hand, he would have believed he actually was. It wasn’t any news that Mingyu didn’t care about the case, just as much as he did not care about the firm at all. He doesn’t care about much, anyway, or at least, about the stuff he can’t get some fun out of. “Anyways, it’s about this girl — “

“It’s always about a girl,” Seungcheol mutters between his teeth. Mingyu doesn’t notice, or ignores him if he does, but his rant goes uninterrupted. 

“I’ve been seeing her for the last few months and now she won’t leave my apartment,” he finishes. He sits down on one of the couches inside Seungcheol’s office, one of his legs draped over the armrest, much to Seungcheol’s annoyance. “She says she thought we were official? We weren’t even exclusive. I know my place is cute, but listen, I’ve — ”

Seungcheol rolls his eyes. 

“It’s your own fault for messing around,” he comments. He taps his fingers on the desk, the rhythm of the taps aligning with that of his heartbeat. Always steady. “I’ve told you that.” 

Mingyu lets out a laugh. “Oh, I know you have.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Look, brother,” Mingyu sits up straight. His phone rests discarded on the couch, not deserving Mingyu’s attention any longer. “You know I admire you, and all that…” And all that. “But, honestly, maybe what you need is to mess around. You know, loosen up, get out of the office … just a little bit.”

“I don’t, Mingyu,” Seungcheol answers with a shake of his head. One of his hands clutches a pen, movements halted. “And besides, I don’t have time for that. I have to do both your work and mine.”

“Does that mean you’ll read over my documents for me?” Mingyu smiles. “Cheol, come on, what would one going out do? We’re not going to lose this client just because you go out on a date, are we?”

He’s not surprised. 

Looking back, it had always been like that. 

He had grown up alone, with only Mingyu by his side and even then not really, because, contrary to him, the younger never had any trouble making friends. He’d say it was all because of his dad, and the way he used to look up to him ever since he was a little kid — always expectant. He’d always told Seungcheol how much alike they were, both in attitudes and in destinies, and how, if following the right path, he was sure he’d never let him down. 

But it was also because of him, and his own expectations, and feeling that if Mingyu was allowed to let go if it meant he had to hold on a little tighter, he’d do it. He’d always known his brother was not made to stand the loneliness that came with following their father, or at least, not as much as he was. They were different people with different needs, after all, and as much as Seungcheol was comfortable with silence, there are times he wishes it wasn’t like that. 

There are times he wishes he had separated himself from it all, even if just a little bit. There are times he actually wishes he had a friend. He wishes he had a friend he could actually trust, who could actually be there for him, and not like the business people he was friendly with. The ones he sometimes went out with, the people he grew up next to, all of them just as immersed in the money daze. He wishes it all went past parties and business deals, an actual bond that could not be broken by envy or convenience. 

“A date?”

“Yeah, a date!” Mingyu exclaims. “When was the last time you went out on one of those, huh? College?” 

“I think?” Seungcheol frowns. Actually, he doesn’t remember dating in college, but he’s not about to tell Mingyu that. “Listen, just get your notes ready by tonight, yeah?”

“Yeah, yeah,” his brother answers. 

Mingyu rolls his eyes as he stands up, phone once again in his hand. He walks over to the door, a smile on his lips despite his ‘annoyed’ expression. Seungcheol knows Mingyu is not going to comply, but he tells him anyway. Just like he always has. It’s part of why they get along so well, because they would be too lost without the other. 

“Oh, and Gyu?” Mingyu opens the door, but turns to his brother before leaving. “Just talk to her, man. Try to not be an asshole, though.” 

Mingyu laughs, and Seungcheol shakes his head. He smiles. 

Out of the both of them, he’s always been the one that actually thinks things through. 

Night has fallen and the room is quiet. 

Moonlight breaks through the window and soaks the room, documents shining under the 

Compared to a few hours prior, not much has changed except for the color of the sky and the scrambly document that was placed on his desk, along with a ‘here you go, loser!’ written on a hot pink post-it note. The entire office smells of coffee and leather, a product of the almost-new furniture and the ever-brewing coffee machine. Is it really that easy to tell that Seungcheol never leaves? 

Taking off his glasses, Seungcheol runs a hand through his face after taking a good look at the clock. He finds it funny that the little hands are the only thing that seems to be moving in the ever-present stillness that he’s immersed himself in; the only indication of movement being the passing of time. His days are always measured in just how much he can get done in an hour, how fast he can get to places, and how long business meetings extend to. They’re composed of work, strictly, and he doesn’t notice, because it’s how it’s always been. It’s ironic how he never notices time passing in-between, because time seems to have taken notice of him. 

He’s spent the past few years trying to be a good boss, and he can’t help but wonder if that’s all people think he is. He can’t help but wonder if that’s all he is, anyway, because it’s the only thing he can think of when he thinks of himself. A good boss and a good brother, and everything else is nothing but a sporadic in-between. 

He’s heard his friends say it, his mind going back to the occasional bar outings and business parties. He remembers the sly comments here and there, the conversations he never got involved in, the stories he could not understand. He remembers the feeling left out, resorting to steadily drinking out of a glass of water. Predictable. 

And then he remembers one of the stories that Jeonghan, one of his college friends, told them a few months before, of him signing up for a fake dating service when his parents were on his back about him finally settling down. He can’t help thinking of Mingyu when he thinks of his friend, and how he seems to get along with him better than he ever did. They were too much alike. 

He remembers laughing, shaking his head, wondering the lengths he’d go to only to maintain the fun, and lifestyle, he’d always had. He remembers what it all was — a pretense. And he knows that just like Jeonghan, he had always been good at pretending. 

He unlocks his phone, a picture of him and Mingyu looking back at him from his screen. It was a family trip, the both of them and their dad, just when Mingyu had graduated from college a few years back. He’s smiling at the camera, and Mingyu is probably staring at someone walking nearby, because he’s not focusing on the photo. He lets out a little laugh.

He opens the chat with Jeonghan, and scrolls up to find the number he had texted him. He hadn’t asked for it, and had chuckled when Jeonghan had sent it, but he’s thankful for his insistence. 

“You laugh now, but who knows, you might need it someday.”

He takes a sip from his coffee and winces when it burns his tongue. He knows it’s out of nerves, with the bouncing of his leg giving him away. He knows he’s got nothing to lose, but even then, he can’t bring himself to calm down over the thought of possibly meeting someone new in a matter unrelated to the office. He knows Mingyu would laugh if he were to look at him now, shaking over the thought of a date… and not even a real one. 

Taking a deep breath, he taps on the contact and types. He stares at the message, eyes going over the words time and time again. Does it sound good? Is it too casual? Does he — shaking his head, he sends it. 

He’s just asking someone to fake date him. It’s alright. It’s almost like a business deal. It’s a cold, impersonal — 

It’s not even a whole minute before he gets a reply.

[from unknown number, 21:34 pm] Hi! Yeah sure, why not? 

[battlecries-dear]

AN: sorry if u guys already saw this!! I posted it a few minutes ago and accidentally deleted it because my brain doesn’t work :/

Prompt: Jaskier's songs about Geralt are super popular in a small village they pass through, and all the children swarm Geralt wanting to hear about the monsters he slays. so Geralt reluctantly does so bc he's a big softie for kids. meanwhile, Jaskier is having an internal crisis bc its just way too adorable.

Jaskier wasn't planning to ever return to the small farming village, but it was on their path to Kaer Morhen, and he wasn't about to miss out on that opportunity. Jaskier had always been filled with an overwhelming wanderlust, and didn't stay put for too long, however, after the mountain incident, he found himself wanting nothing more than to just hole up in an off the map town somewhere, write legends about monster hunters, and be a bard, not Geralt's bard, just him, on his own. The irony that most of the songs he performed were about his adventures with Geralt was not lost on him, but still, he'd put that all behind him.

So, no, Jaskier didn't plan on returning to the no-name town where he spent far too many weeks sad and unmotivated, never performing anything new, fearing he would never leave, and die barely a footnote in the history books, but he did leave, and then Geralt found him, and he apologized, he explained, he promised to be better, so they traveled, and they fell back into familiar habits, and Jaskier let himself fall back into a quiet sort of love he couldn't escape even if he wanted to.

But that's unimportant, Jaskier spent more time in this town then he had anywhere since he left home at the tender age of 15, he recognized their surroundings as they approached the town, he saw the dawning familiarity in the eyes of the old man tending to the outskirt fields, and already, Jaskier felt too known.

To Geralt's surprise, Jaskier took the lead through the sparsely populated street, and led them to the towns only inn, and with a friendly greeting to the barmaid, Meredith, and a quick exchange of coin, they were holed up in a small room above the towns only tavern.

"Been here before?" Geralt asked, divulging himself of his bags

"Yeah, a while back." not totally a lie at least, Jaskier thought

"Hm, well, I need a drink, join me at the bar?" Geralt look satisfied enough with his answer

“No thanks, we were on the road for far too long without a bed, I could use a nap," truth is Jaskier couldn't deal with seeing to the butcher's twins, who must be, wow, who must be seven years old now, and he didn't want to think about the old spinster who came every day to see him perform, and had come down with something terrible before he left, or the mayor's son, and how he always looked at him with something in his eye too hungry to be simply friendship, he didn't want to be faced with things changing, moving on without him.

"here, and tell Meredith at the bar that I'll be down to perform later, she might give you a discount on your ale," Jaskier paused for a moment, and handed Geralt a pouch of coins before gracelessly flopping back onto the bed.

Jaskier busied himself in his notebook, and reorganized Geralt's bags, and restrung his lute, and did each and every menial task he had been putting off just to busy himself, Geralt had been gone for too long though, and it was only an hour or two off from sundown. finally allowing his worry to overtake his dread at facing any of the people, his friends, who he left without a word of goodbye. He decided to look for him.

He reluctantly made his way down the narrow staircase and saw more people than he was used to seeing in the tavern, Meredith noticed his presence and his confusion and gestured to Geralt, sat in what was once Jaskiers favorite corner booth. Jaskier was surprised to see Meredith's little sister, probably on her 12th winter by now, the butcher's twins, and three more children he recognized but was less familiar with, all sat at the booth with Geralt, Meredith just laughed and gestured him over.

"You sang so many songs about him that when you came Esbith recognized him right away, and went off to get her friends, they've been asking him questions about witchering for the past two hours, they've been asking him questions about you,"

"I... I've missed you, Meredith," and he did, though getting to know her in the first place was a regret of his, but the self-loathing could wait for another time, as there was something far more interesting happening in the corner booth

"I've missed you too you old crone, now, what's the deal with the witcher? not all of your songs were jaunty adventure tunes, I heard all of em, the heartbroken ones too Jask," she sounded accusatory while leaning across the bar into Jaskier's space

"After I left," he looked into her eyes and tried to convey whatever apology he could for leaving so abruptly, and took a breath, "shortly after I left he came to find me, it was a terribly romantic thing, we've been traveling together again,"

"romantic thing huh?" she seemed interested now, and raised her eyebrows at him,

"Oh not like that you witch, it was just more dramatic than I know him to be, and if I were a lesser man, I'd have confessed my feelings then and there, but you and I both know I'm a great man,"

"I'm holed up in this tavern all day and you don't have anything for me?" It was almost frightening how quickly they had slipped back into their dynamic, Jaskier entertaining her with tales from outside her provincial town and her always asking for more.

"Unfortunately no, he's kinder to me than he was before, but nothing that speaks of a dramatic longing for me," he replied, a bit too dramatically

"Have you asked?" That's another thing that hadn't changed, her unrelenting snark.

"I'm usually quite aware of these things Meredith,"

"Hmm, like how you flirted with me for a week until I introduced you to Rosine," oh god, Jaskier had made some truly terrible calls by way of romance before, but he thinks he had never barked up such a wrong tree so thoroughly.

"That was different!" he nearly shouted "I was in a very bad place!"

"He's looking over here," she pointed out with a tilt of her head, "Cmon go, he looks like a lost puppy,"

And he did a little bit, Esbith was braiding his hair, and one of the twins, Saidbh he thought, was pulling his sword out of Geralts sheath, and he was looking up at him with a silent pleading look in his eyes. With a parting insult to Meredith, he made his way across the floor.

"Esbith, my darling, how I've missed you,"

The young girl turned around in a flash and gasped loudly "Jaskier! Mary said you were here but I wasn't allowed to bother you,"

"Sorry dear, I've just spent so long traveling that I needed a bit of a rest, I'm glad you've been keeping my witcher here company"

She looked between Geralt and Jaskier, and leaned in to stage whisper in his ear, "mister Geralt is just like you described him to be," and then turned her attention back to braiding his hair,

after the brief aside, the other twin, Edin, maybe, waved her hand in front of Geralt's face, "Mister witcher you have to finish telling the story!" and Geralt's whole self softened for a moment before he launched back into what Jaskier recognized to be their last run-in with a siren. He noticed that Geralt was embellishing the story a bit. And he looked excited, even, to be entertaining his audience. Jaskier thought it was precious. Geralt rarely allowed himself to relax, especially in the presence of unknown townspeople, but over the years Jaskier had taken note of the soft place he held in his heart for children, he asked him about it once and Geralt told him it was because children were always more curious than afraid, that no one is born with hatred or fear, Jaskier also suspected it had something to do with the witcher being unable to have any children of his own.

It was truly a sight though, and seeing Geralt look even a little bit relaxed in a tavern in an unknown town, a place where he's usually so guarded, brought a feeling of warm fondness that calmed Jaskiers tender heart, even if Geralt didn't love Jaskier in the way he wanted him to, he was still Jaskiers best friend, and seeing him happy, entertaining children and being comfortable and happy, brought Jaskier so much joy.

[unsteadygalaxy]

all is soft inside chapter 9

a miragehound multichapter fanfiction

Also posted on Ao3, my username is the same there!

previous | next

9. scars we cover up with paint

The first thing they’re aware of once the gunfire stops is Elliott running towards them, and they don’t quite register what he’s doing until he’s already done it. 

Elliott is hugging them fiercely, whooping and hollering and jumping up and down, and they stand in his embrace as stiff as a board. He picks them up and spins them around, laughing joyfully. They’re delighted to have won, of course, but they didn’t expect Elliott’s reaction in the slightest. His warmth, his smell, his softness- all of it engulfs them in one singular moment, and their cheeks burn harder than they have in years. The victory music blares over the loudspeakers, and the surge of pride they had felt blazes in their chest between the two of them. Just before they melt into his touch, he stiffens, puts them down, and jerks away.

“Uh… s-sorry,” he stammers, his eyes wide as he backs up. 

They stare at him, at a complete loss for words. Nothing in Bloodhound’s brain is working properly- their thoughts are just one big blank, and it scares them.

Wh-

Gibraltar claps Elliott on the shoulder, laughing that big, booming laugh of his. “Well, would you look at that!” he says, grinning. A relieved whoosh of air leaves Bloodhound’s lungs. “Witt clutches the win! Great job, bruddah. I knew you could do it.”

He shakes himself a little, and turns away from them. “Thanks! Couldn’t have done it without you guys. Or maybe I could’ve. Who knows?” He shrugs and flips his hair a little. The arrogant facade is back, and it makes a twinge of sadness poke at Bloodhound’s heart. 

“Well done, félagi,” they say as they cross their arms. “Ég er stoltur af þér.”

“Are you ever going to tell me what that means?” he quips, smiling and rolling his eyes.

Bloodhound laughs, just a little. “I am proud of you.”

The grin that splits his face is enough to warm their chest for the rest of the day.

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

The lights in the Paradise Lounge are dim, and it’s very close to closing time. Bloodhound stands in the doorway, peeking inside from the shadows. Only a few people linger in the bar. Makoa and Ajay are among them, laughing and finishing off their drinks. Elliott is with them, leaning against the bar and sipping at a drink of his own. Bloodhound smiles at the sight. They are grateful that their fellow Legends are (mostly) friendly with one another; the idea of a hostile environment outside of the ring is not particularly enjoyable. 

They linger at the doorstep for another moment, debating on whether or not to go in. This is ridiculous, they think. You never show up to post-match celebrations. Why now? But a part of them knows the answer. And another part of them wishes they didn’t.

They shake themself internally. There is no use, they think. They turn to leave. There is no point in staying, no point in mingling with people they rarely speak to, and no point in being here if they couldn’t be alone with-

“Bloodhound?”

Elliott’s voice echoes from behind them, and the residual joy from his win today is evident in his voice. They turn back, and their heart stutters in their chest when their eyes lock on his. The light from the bulbs at the bar paint his face in shades of warm gold and yellow, running fingers of light through his dark hair. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, and the top two buttons of his purple button-down are open, giving them an unobstructed view of the top of his chest. They’re suddenly very glad they need a mask to breathe.

“Good evening, Elliott,” they reply, after a horrifyingly long moment. “Hello, Makoa, Ajay.” They incline their head to each of them in turn as they approach the bar. 

“Hey, cousin.” Makoa raises his glass to them and smiles widely, nodding.

“‘Sup, BH?” Ajay quips, tossing up a peace sign. “Don’t see yuh here very often. What are yuh up to?”

“Uh, yeah,” Elliott butts in, setting down his glass. “What’s up?”

It strikes Bloodhound that they have absolutely no idea how to respond to that.

“Come on, bruddah, they’re here to celebrate!” Makoa says, raising his bottle and draining it. Bloodhound is beyond grateful for him for the second time today. “And who wouldn’t, with a win like ours? Elliott, my man, that smoke screen idea was fantastic.”

Elliott bows dramatically, flourishing his hand as he goes. “Thank you, thank you,” he says, adopting a grandiose tone that makes Bloodhound roll their eyes. “It was one of my finer ideas, I must admit.”

“All of yuh were on fire today,” Ajay admits, shaking her head. ‘Specially you, Hound. Damn scary when yuh come at everyone while you’re glowin’ like that.”

A twinge of annoyance crosses their chest as it always does whenever someone doesn’t use their full name, but they let it pass. “You fought well, felagi,” they reply. “You managed to evade me, and few are able to do so. I commend you for your efforts.” For the first time they are self-conscious of how stilted and formal they sound, but they don’t know what to do to change that. They look to Elliott and Makoa. “But we still came out victorious in the end, did we not?”

“Hell yeah, we did!” Elliott cheers, smiling widely at them. He raises his glass to try and clink it with theirs, but he seems to realize that he did not offer them one. His eyes go wide for a fraction of a second and red flushes his cheeks. “Uh, you wouldn’t happen to want a drink, would you?” He looks extremely unsure of his offer, and he sets his cup back down on the counter, looking sheepish as he grabs an extra one.

“No, thank you,” Bloodhound replies. “I do not drink.”

“Didn’t think so,” Elliott says quickly, and the cup is gone in an instant. 

“I appreciate the gesture.” Bloodhound takes a seat at the bar to Ajay’s left and tries their best to settle in amongst all their gear. It proves to be a little difficult- the bar stool is small and their uniform is awkward. Part of them wishes they had just left their extra gear back at their apartment, but they know they would have felt too exposed without it. They tune back into the conversation just as Makoa begins to laugh.

“--and then I told him, ‘bruddah, it’s gonna take a lot more than that to knock me down!’” He laughs uproariously, and Elliott and Ajay join him, nearly doubling over from their mirth. Bloodhound finds themself staring at Elliott- listening to his amusing laugh, admiring the curve of his smile, enjoying the contour of his jawline amidst his beard. They gaze at him unabashedly under the mask, wondering what it would be like to-

They catch themself. 

None of that, they berate themself. Elliott is a friend. Nothing more. 

Their chest aches a little at the thought, but Bloodhound staunchly pushes it away. 

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

The night winds down, and Ajay and Makoa soon decide to leave, leaving Bloodhound and Elliott alone in the bar. The three of them were excellent company, and had managed to make Bloodhound laugh a few times. That had surprised Bloodhound; they hadn’t expected to have such a good time. Part of them wondered if it would last, if it was worth it to keep coming back. That was yet to be determined.

Elliott picks up the glasses and begins to clean them. “So, have a good time?” he asks nonchalantly. 

“Surprisingly, yes,” they answer, popping their fingers. The social interaction had nearly wiped them out, and they’re nearly ready to retreat back to their small apartment to sleep. They’re looking forward to their day off before the match on King’s Canyon. Strangely enough, coming back to Solace for the Games always felt like coming home. 

“‘Surprisingly’?” Elliott says, a laugh pressing at his voice. “What do you mean? C’mon, Bloodhound, can you really resist Makoa’s laugh? Or Ajay’s jokes? Or my unrelenting charm?” He winks at them, biting his lip a little, and there’s a strange fluttering sensation in their stomach. 

“What charm?” they deadpan. “I have no idea what you are talking about.”

Elliott places a hand on his chest, feigning hurt. “You mean you don’t see all of this glorious Witt wit? I’m wounded, Bloodhound, I really am.” He sniffs greatly and pretends to wipe away a tear. 

Bloodhound laughs, and their chest hurts a little. “‘Witt wit’?” they ask, incredulous as they shake their head. “That is your worst joke all evening. Including the one about the Gaean golfer.”

Elliott laughs too, throwing his head back in mirth. Bloodhound loves the sound of it. It’s embarrassingly heavy and goofy, but so… Elliott. “Oh man, that golfer joke gets people every time,” he says, patting his chest absentmindedly. He sighs, a smile still resting on his face. “It’s just classic.” 

Bloodhound shakes their head again, smiling under the mask. It strikes them how effortless this feels. They didn’t like talking to others for long, but Elliott... Elliott is different.

And that confuses the hell out of them. 

“Thank you for your company, Elliott,” they say. “I quite enjoyed the evening.” 

“It was good to see you,” he replies as he finishes cleaning the glasses. “Why don’t you come around more often? I would- I mean, we- would love to see more of you.” Elliott’s cheeks flush a little, which Bloodhound notices.

“I… will consider it,” they answer carefully. They truly had a great time, but… a small part of them nags at their brain, kicking up a stir and whispering, You do not belong here. You do not deserve this. It kicks at their heart, forcing it back into the box where it belongs. Their feet shift to get up from the stool, but their body does not follow. 

“Fair enough,” Elliott says. He seems to think for a moment, and then asks, “Hey, can I ask you a question?”

Bloodhound considers this. “Yes. But know that I may not give you a straight answer.”

“Oh, believe me, I know,” he laughs. Then, he sobers up and looks a little unsure of himself. “I noticed you when we were on the Epicenter tower earlier. You had a little case and it looked like you were meditating or something. What were you doing?”

The question catches them somewhat off guard. They didn’t expect him to be quite so bold in asking, though they can’t really blame him. Maybe it’s the lateness of the hour, or maybe it’s because of the happiness they’ve felt, but they answer him honestly. “I was offering a prayer to the gods,” they say.

“What about?” he asks. “For the match?” Part of them is a little bothered at his nosiness, but they know it’s because of the whiskey he’s had. He’s not drunk, but he has had enough to loosen his tongue a little. 

“Yes, and no,” they reply. A familiar sense of grief floods their chest, and they allow it to visit and poke around a little. The words are spilling from their mouth before they realize what they’re saying, their tongue loosened by the pain and the growing trust they have in him. “I asked the Allfather to strengthen us and lead us to victory.” They swallow, suddenly feeling like a deer in the headlights. “I also... asked him to keep my mother and father’s spirits at rest.”

Elliott raises his eyebrows, and his mouth opens a little. “Oh,” he says. “Um… what happened to them?”

They hesitate. 

“Do you know the history behind World’s Edge?” they ask quietly. That nagging part of them starts to scream and thrash, but they seize it and stuff it away. 

“Not really,” he says, rubbing his neck. “All I know is that there was a huge meltdown at an IMC facility like, thirty years ago or something, and that’s what caused all the ice around Epicenter. Why?” 

Bloodhound sighs, and their heart feels raw and tender as it emerges from the box they had so carefully squeezed it into. 

The snow beneath their feet crunches as they approach the tower. It looms above them, taunting them, digging its claws into their soul and ripping away the layers and layers of protection they had so meticulously constructed. The mountains of ice around them seem to collapse over them, trapping them inside and suffocating them. Their eyes sting and burn, their legs shake, and sweat runs down their back in waves. Bloodhound knows that somewhere, deep below the remnants of this facility, the corpses of their mother and father have solidified into ice.

Ajay stops next to them, staring at them for a moment. “Yuh all right, BH?”

They cannot answer; their throat is clamped shut with freezing irons, and their jaw will not open. Their goggles are fogging up, and their vision is blurry. Their breaths come in quick, half-gasps, and their hands tremble. 

“Bloodhound?” Anita’s voice is firm, but warm. The two women look at them, concerned. 

“I…” they manage. “I am fine. Please continue on. I will loot here.”

“Yuh know that’s bullshit,” Ajay replies steadily. “Come on, what’s up?”

“I told you I am fine. Please do not worry.”

Ajay rolls her eyes. “Fine, but don’t come cryin’ to me later when you need a rez.” She turns and begins to make her way down the hill. 

Anita stares at them sternly, but not devoid of concern, and asks, “You gonna be good for combat?”

Bloodhound clenches their fists to stop them from shaking. “Yes.”

They slowly pull out the silver case from an inside pocket of their jacket and open it. Their parents stare up at them, smiling happily. Their father’s youthful optimism and spark shine through the photo, and he cradles their mother lovingly. Their mother was so beautiful. Her ginger hair matches their own, and she holds an infant Bloodhound in her arms. Opposite the pair of them, their uncle Artur sits stiffly for his picture, blushing a little in discomfort. His bushy red beard covers his mouth completely, but Bloodhound knows he’s smiling anyway.

They stare at the pictures, willing the ache in their body to subside. “My mother and father were brilliant scientists,” they say. They slide the case over to Elliott, their heart pounding in their chest harder than it ever has before. “The IMC recruited them for their research on energy harvesting. They brought me to Talos when I was very young, and they began to build a life for us.” Their voice tightens fractionally, and they force their throat to relax, because there is no way in Hel they are going to cry in front of him right now.

“The IMC meddled with concepts and forces they did not understand, and my parents suffered because of it.” They did not meet Elliott’s eyes. “When the facility exploded, it caused a meltdown, and my parents were caught in it. They are still there, somewhere. Under the ice. They would not allow us to retrieve the bodies.”

Elliott is silent for a few agonizing moments. “Y-Your parents…” he starts, his voice shocked. “Your parents are… under Epicenter?”

“Yes.”

“And you have to walk over their corpses every time you’re there?” Bloodhound hears him pick up the case, and he takes a few moments to examine it. “Oh, my God. I don’t know what to say.” They hear him swallow thickly, and his voice is quiet and reverent the next time he speaks. “I’m… I’m so sorry.”

“Do not be,” Bloodhound sighs. “It was many years ago.” The last thing they want or need is for Elliott to pity them. While traversing World’s Edge had severely jarred them at first, they had managed to somewhat make peace with their horrifying obligation to walk over their parents’ graves. They did not need anyone else to feel their emotions for them. Especially Elliott.

“How the hell do you deal with that?” Elliott asks, his voice hushed. “I mean, I have no idea what I would do.”

“It was… difficult at first,” they admit reluctantly. They look over to him, and their heart stops in their chest. He’s examining the pictures inside it with a fascinated horror, his mouth open, his eyes wide. It’s as though he’s in a trance. 

They swallow hard and continue speaking. “It is still difficult, if I must be honest. That is why I ask the gods for strength every time I am there.”

Elliott is quiet for a long time as he stares at the case, and Bloodhound begins to worry that they have said too much, dumped too much on his head. They start to push their heart back into the box they had constructed, and the nagging voice comes back- stupid, stupid, STUPID- 

“You’re incredible,” he murmurs, and the kindness and awe in his voice makes their head snap up to meet his gaze. 

Elliott stares at them with open admiration and reverence. The honesty of it makes them want to hide away, because they certainly do not deserve these words.

“I told you before, I am human, like you.” Their voice comes out far more irritated than they intended, and they wince. “I appreciate your compliment, but please know I am not anything special.”

“Oh, come on,” Elliott says, his eyebrows raised in disbelief. “That’s absolute bullshit. You’re special. You kick ass, you’re powerful, you carry my sorry ass through basically every match we’re teamed up in-”

“That is not true, Elliott,” they interrupt, the annoyance building more now. “You held your own today, and I was very proud of you. I am very proud of you.” 

He shakes his head, visibly biting back a smile. “Okay, fine, I did all right in today’s game. But that doesn’t change the fact that you’re one of the most valuable assets to any team.”

It’s Bloodhound’s turn to shake their head. “I simply do what the Allfather asks of me, nothing more. The outcome of any match is written before we even step into the arena, and there is no changing that.”

“You seriously believe that?” Elliott asks. “You seriously think that our fates are set in stone and we can’t do a damn thing to change them?” The frustration of the other night is returning, and Bloodhound hates that they are the cause of it. 

“Yes, Elliott,” they fire back, feeling exhausted and exasperated. “I do. You do not have to agree, but that is the principle on which I have fashioned my entire life. Please do not disrespect that.”

He sighs, waving his hands in a placating gesture. “All right, sorry, sorry. All I’m saying is, maybe you should have a little faith in yourself every once in a while. I’m sure your gods are fa- fast- great, but so are you.” He leans on the counter across from them, his hands coming to rest on the lacquered wood. 

“You know not of what you speak,” they murmur quietly. Under any other circumstance, they would be angry, but they cannot summon up the energy. “I am not hrokafullur- arrogant- enough to think that I will succeed alone.” Their heart aches, and their chest feels like it’s being crushed with frustration and grief. They’ve done so well in managing their emotions up until now, but talking about their parents has put them in a place they have done their best to avoid for a very long time. Why him? Why Elliott? Why do they feel like he can be trusted, despite everything they have buried? Despite everything they have done?

“I’m not saying you need to do anything alone, Bloodhound,” Elliott replies, his voice patient. “I’m just saying you need to give yourself more credit. You’re seriously the greatest warrior I’ve ever met.” He looks at them expectantly, and Bloodhound can see the expectation on his face. But there’s something else there, too- a boldness that Bloodhound has come to miss from him. They stare directly into his beautiful brown eyes, not breaking eye contact. For the first time, the simple act of looking at him makes their face heat up, and if it wasn’t for the mask, they would have looked away a long time ago. They notice that his hands are very, very close to theirs, and the desire to reach out and touch him is far more intense than they bargained for. 

Bloodhound finally sighs and looks down. “I am sorry, vinur minn. Thank you, but I cannot agree.” Their voice is barely above a whisper, and it takes a great amount of effort to make anything audible. “Maybe one day, but…”

They suddenly feel pressure against their hands, and they look over to them quickly. Elliott’s hands are trembling, and his knuckles are pressing against their gloved fingers with hesitation. They inhale sharply, flinching, but a part of Bloodhound forces their body to relax, to welcome his touch, even though the other part is screaming at them to run away. Time stretches out like molasses, and Bloodhound reaches further across the bar. That nagging part of them begs them to stop, but they shove it away angrily. The instant their hands make contact with his, their heart stills, and it’s only then that they realize it’s been pounding and roaring in their ears. They do not dare look into his eyes, because they don’t want to see pity or admiration or anything else he has for them. They don’t want his kindness. 

Yes, you do, they think. You want it so badly you think your soul is going to burst. You are pathetic, craving affection and acceptance from those who it is most unattainable from. You really think Mirage can save you? You really think Elliott Witt, heartthrob of the Outlands, will listen to your woes? You are a naive child, and nothing has changed. You are the same person you were all those years ago when Boone-

“Hey, um…” Elliott’s voice startles them out of their thoughts, and they meet his eyes. There is no pity there, only patience and a determined concern. “I… I know we don’t know each other very well, but… If you ever need to talk about anything or whatever, I’ve got ears.” His cheeks redden, and he begins to babble, letting go of Bloodhound’s hands to gesticulate wildly. “I mean, I’m all yours- I’ve got ea- ugh, I’ve got you and I’m all ears.” He stares intently at the wood of the bar, blushing a bright red as he crosses his arms and hides his face in his hand.

Something inside Bloodhound fills them with a strange kind of static. It feels warm and alarming all at once. It pools in their stomach, swirling around with a pleasant feeling, and all they can do for a moment is stare and blush furiously. Their heart starts pounding in their ears again. They’re surprised by his words. For so long, they have been the one to reassure and uplift others. And now, someone is reciprocating? Someone cares? Elliott cares?

The feeling inside them multiples and a soft peace quiets the annoyances that have plagued them all evening. “That is… very much appreciated, Elliott.” Their throat is tight, and they have to fight to keep their voice steady. 

“Hey, no problem,” he shrugs. “It’s the least I can do after everything you’ve done for me. My advice might not be great, but I can try.” 

“The effort is appreciated,” they murmur. They want to take his hands again. They want to feel his skin on theirs again. They want to know what it would feel like to be held in his arms and kept safe. They want to-

“Oh, hey, here’s this.” Elliott offers the case back to them, and they shake themself out of their thoughts as their cheeks burn. 

“Thank you.” They take it from him and tuck it back into their jacket pocket.

“Who’s the other guy? The one with the awesome beard?” Elliott strokes his own face as he says this, brushing his fingers through his already-perfect facial hair.

Bloodhound smiles. “That is my uncle, Artur.” They look into his face, taking advantage of the mask so they can stare at his gorgeous features unabashedly. 

“Is he… you know… still around?” he asks, hesitation written all over him.

A deep feeling in their chest twists around painfully, and their scars seem to burn. Their lungs ache and clench, and the air seems to leak out of them at an agonizing pace. Bloodhound’s heart begins to pound again, and blood rushes through their veins. “No, he is not,” they reply, trying to calm themself down. Breathe in. One, two, three, four-

“I’m sorry.” Elliott is silent for a moment. “What happened to him?”

It’s an innocent enough question, but it makes adrenaline shoot through Bloodhound’s veins like Octane’s stim. A horrible buzzing sound fills their ears, and their mouth runs dry. Their palms begin to sweat, making their gloves feel too tight around their hands. Dread fills their stomach and seizes their lungs, making it nearly impossible to breathe. What breath they do manage to take in is choppy, uneven. That awful nagging voice is back, screeching into their ears- your fault, your fault, your fault-

“Th-that is a story for another time,” they manage, and they get up from the bar, their limbs shaking.

“Hey, wait, are you okay?” Elliott asks, and there’s concern all over his face. He reaches out over the bar and tries to steady them, but they’re already moving towards the door. “Bloodhound! Wait!” 

“Please, Elliott, I am fine,” they choke, their vision beginning to blur. “I will see you in the match.” 

“Bloodhound, come back-”

But they’re already out the door and swiftly striding down the street towards their apartment, leaving Elliott and his reaching heart behind.

When they make it back to their tiny apartment on the third floor, they slam the door behind them and rush to the bathroom. They pull off the gloves, helmet, goggles, and mask and set them on the counter. Shuddering gasps hiss through their teeth as they turn on the tap and plunge their hands beneath the icy water. They pull the stopper in the sink and let the liquid pool until it’s deep enough to plunge their face into. Bloodhound leans over the counter, takes a deep breath, and presses their head into the water, keeping it there as long as they can stand it.

They gasp, stumbling backwards from the sink until their back makes contact with the door. Water runs down their face in rivulets, soaking their jacket and hair. They breathe heavily for a few moments, and they meet their own gaze in the mirror. Their scarred skin is red from shock, and their hair sticks to itself, drenched. For one eternal second, everything is fine. 

But the moment passes, and they sink to their knees, burying their face in their hands as sobs begin to burst from their mouth.

[dannypuro]

So I just binged Something Telling and it’s just, so amazing? Like, your characterization is so on point and I just have nothing but nice things to say about it. Can I make a list? I’m gonna make one cause I have Emotions™️ about every one of these dweebs.

1. Grantaire is just, so nice and kind and smart, and not an alcoholic! Like, I love the fics where he deals with that, but it’s nice to see him being a semi-functional adult person. (Was he an alcoholic in this universe at one point?) Plus, he’s still enough of an emotional disaster otherwise. Love him ❤️

2. ENJ VS TECHNOLOGY. I could read about that forever. Swearing in an elevator? Iconic. Never using the space bar? Perfect. Also now I refer to movies as “movings” in my head so there’s that.

3. Combeferre is the sane man of this family and I love it so much. Also I never thought of vaccines for time travel AUs and I genuinely cackled when Ferre brought it up. Like, yeah, that’s a good point.

4. Jehan is always chaotic and I love them for it. Also, I know R doesn’t want to hear about it, but I absolutely want to know what their sex talk consisted of. I’m curious.

5. Baz and Feuilly. Yes. Good. Lovely boys. So glad they got their shit together.

6. “I am wanted by the government for high treason.” Honestly Enj has so many golden moments/lines. He is trying his best and I love him.

7. The PTSD our boy has and how he’ll have to work through it, but he has Friends and Boyfriend to help. (Side note: I live in the US, so I don’t know how much of a thing it might be in Paris, but do they set off a lot of fireworks on New Years? Cause I feel like that would be a thing that Enj would have to deal with, especially if no one tells him about it beforehand)

8. The research you would have had to do for this is just, incredible. And I think you captured how someone would really be if they just got yeeted into the future with no tech experience whatsoever. Like, I’ve been living here since 1994 and I’m overwhelmed by stuff sometimes.

9. Slightly unrelated but I also saw that you did the AU where Grantaire is a baker and Enj is totally not in the mafia (the name escapes me) and I also love that fic.

Hopefully that was somewhat coherent! Seriously though your work is great and I can’t wait for more!

(Also, if you want and it’s not a plot point of the next one, what is Enjolras’s reaction to musicals? I know the boy loves his opera, but someone had to have shown him something on YouTube and I just crave knowledge about this universe) Thanks! 🥰

GUH thank you!!!!!!! thank you thank you!!! and thank you for taking the time to make a list because i thrive off of validation alone and it made my day 🥺. SO.

grantaire is a total sweetheart. like, genuinely a nice person who is trying his best despite the fact that he has a hard time. baby. of course, the funniest part about him is the fact that he has NO idea that he’s actually just like... nice. he’s like... oh man it sure sucks that i’m the worst person possible to help someone in need... sucks that i’m the only one here... sorry dude i’m sorry i’m not combeferre... and then he proceeds to just like. make beef stew and be so careful and kind and thoughtful and try his very best and let enjolras go to sleep on his shoulder during a moving. like... sir. ok. also, yes, i tend to write him a little more... with his shit together, especially in this fic. you mentioned that you read And If I See You In The Daylight (the bakery fic)--i kind of wrote this assuming a similar character arc (minus the bakery, of course. like, grantaire used to be much, much more of a mess in a lot of ways, and drinking too much was a part of that, and he’s slowly been working on it. and now he’s 29, and he’s doing his best, and his friends love him. he’s doing a little better in this fic than in the bakery fic--maybe he’s a little older? maybe because combeferre is a little harsher than jbm and gets on his case when he starts to slip back into old habits? yeah.

ENJ VS TECHNOLOGY. sweetie. baby. the first time combeferre vacuums his apartment when enj is around he’s like “hey man, do you mind if i do the vacuuming?” and enj (has NO idea what that word is, is falling asleep while reading on the couch in the sun) is like “do what you will” and then ferre turns the vacuum on and enjy does that thing when a cat is startled and it jumps like three feet up in the air and puffs up like a squirrel. he’s awake now.

combeferre. baby. he’s genuinely, genuinely trying his best, but it’s fucking hard when you’re tired and overworked and also none of your friends use their brains more than 30% of the time and also your new best friend is a spiky little revolutionary from EIGHTEEN THIRTY TWO. so. um. he’s a little stressed. but he loves enjy so much and doesn’t even mind when he’s dramatic and annoying because he’s such a sweet dude and they’re FRIENDS. sometimes he comes home from a long day of work and enj has come over and washed all of his dishes and brought over takeout but also rearranged all of his books and also eaten like three mangoes. listen. friendship is about gently tormenting your BFF because you are COMFORTABLE AROUND EACH OTHER.

jehan. baby. instagram influencer supreme. i’ve gotten like a bazillion asks about their sex talk--i SWEAR i will write it eventually because the concept of it just cracks me up. jehan is like. “ok. enjy. tell me what you know about sex” and enj is like... “i understand that..... it occurs?” and jehan is like :^/ and enj is like “one must be careful not to contract syphilis from unseemly sources?” and jehan is like “TIme For A Conversation Before Grantaire Messes This Up”

baz and feuilly. babies. they’re just such a sweet, casual couple and they  like each other so much. also, first date 3 am kebabs? after they FINALLY communicated? and then baz gets railed like he deserves? they deserve it.

enj has a secret little sense of humor and it’s just a little hidden by the fact that he is 1) repressed 2) awkward. but it’s there! he’s just so smart and secretly funny and grantaire thinks he’s fucking hilarious. except when he jokes about the fact that he’s technically dead. it makes grantaire sad. he’s like YOU’RE NOT DEAD THOUGH BABE YOU’RE EATING JAPCHAE RIGHT NOW and enj is like. “i believe that if you observe my wicky encyclopaedia you shall learn otherwise 🤷” and grantaire is like 😰BABE

yeah. yeah. listen. he’s got a lot of shit to deal with. it’s gonna take a while. like... that is some SERIOUS trauma, and he didn’t even have any time in his own century to process it. he went straight from a very violent event--LITERALLY about to be executed 😰--to being zapped to a time where he recognizes NOTHING. that... didn’t help. and he can’t really go to a therapist (which causes combeferre no shortage of distress) since like... he wouldn’t be able to explain anything about the barricades or the source of his trauma to begin with. so... yeah. but yes! he has friends and a boyfriend who love and support him so much! and it’s the framework he needs to begin to work through stuff at his own pace 🥺 (also, yes, fireworks are a big thing. they’re also big for the 14 juillet, which i... kind of forgot to address. i might go back and write a scene somewhere around ch. 5 for it and post it on here. we’ll see.)

i’m so glad you appreciated the research! 🥺🥺🥺 legit i... kind of spent a stupid amount of time on it. i really tried to make it as realistic as possible (barring, like, the whole time-zap thing, and also the whole “characters from les mis” thing) since the whole POINT is the differences between their two times, so... i’m glad it paid off. it means a lot to hear that u vibed with it.

thank you thank you! again-- And If I See You In The Daylight is the name of the bakery fic, and i also love it 🥺🥺🥺 . to everyone else... READ IT!

enjolras does not like musicals. like... yes, there was a natural progression from 20th century opera to early musicals, but enjolras missed all of that. and 21st century musicals are pretty fucking different from 1820s/30s opera. he can’t quite understand the music. the plotlines don’t make sense. the plots aren’t stupid enough for his taste. they take themselves too seriously. not enough miscommunication. orchestral parts not nice enough. cosette tries to show him a musical on youtube and enjy is like. who is that. why are they all dressed the same. what is going on. why do they not use their Pocket Fones? why does it sound like this. hellp. (she gives up and shows him a Puccini opera instead.)

anyways. THANK YOU! and to everyone else--send me asks! send me prompts! send me questions! i WILL respond to them and i treasure them all i just tend to be kind of slow! but i love to receive them! thank you!!!

[proxylynn]

Underfell: File Name not Edgy Enough #27

Chapter 27: Burden

WARNING: I WANT NO RESPONSIBILITY OVER SPOILING THINGS FOR OTHERS. THAT BEING SAID, THIS IS HOW FILE NAME NOT FOUND WOULD FUNCTION IN THE AU OF UNDERFELL. BEFORE YOU READ THIS, UNLIKE THE NICE TIME OF UNDERTALE, THIS WORLD IS KILL OR BE KILLED. THIS STORY WILL BE GRAPHIC, GORY, USE SWEARS LIKE NOBODY'S BUSINESS, AND DEAL WITH SENSITIVE SUBJECT MATTERS. FOR EXAMPLE, THOSE OF YOU WHO HAVE READ THE FILE NAME RELOCATED SPOOF WILL KNOW HOW I PICTURE THIS VERSION OF LYNSIE COMING TO THE UNDERGROUND. IT IS NOT AN ACCIDENT. IT IS NOT BECAUSE OF SOMETHING DUMB. IT IS BECAUSE SHE CHOOSES TO END HER LIFE. SO TAKE THIS WITH A GRAIN OF SALT. I MADE IT BECAUSE I NEEDED TO LET SOME OF THIS EDGINESS OUT OF MYSELF. WHICH I GUESS MAKES UNDERFELL LYNSIE EVEN MORE TRUE TO WHO I REALLY AM. ANYWAY, ENJOY. ^_^

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

[A quick recap]

My melancholy blinds me to my current surroundings. I only come out of it once a spotlight hits me.

"The hell...?"

Things look funny. No doubt it's a setup by Mettaton. But I'm unsure what this act is. I mean, it looks like a receptionist's waiting room. A desk and some random chairs.

"GOOD EVENING, LADIES AND GENTS...!"

Mettaton zips in wearing a red suit and shoves me in a chair as he takes center stage.

"FIRST AND FOREMOST, WE HERE AT MTTTV WOULD LIKE TO APOLOGIZE FOR THE LACK OF ME OVER THE COURSE OF THE PROGRAM. DUE TO THE LACK PREP WORK WITH MY COSTAR HERE, WE SADLY HAD TO FORGO A THRILLING ACT BACK IN LEVEL TWO INVOLVING HUNDREDS OF EXPLOSIVES!!"

I so freaking called it. I should let him have his moment...Nah!

"I thought you said that act was shit anyway?"

He extends an arm to cover my mouth.

"FORGIVE HER. SHE'S LOST A LOT OF BLOOD AND NOT ALL THERE MENTALLY."

I leer at him flatly.

"BUT...DARLING HERE IS GOING TO MAKE AMENDS WITH US ALL RIGHT NOW. IT'S TIME TO ANSWER SOME BURNING QUESTIONS."

I'm so confused as he lets go and leaps onto the desk, posing dramatically.

"IT'S TIME FOR..."

A large neon sign shaped like him drops from the ceiling.

"BURNING THE MIDNIGHT OIL WITH A KILLER ROBOT! THE LATE NIGHT TALK SHOW HOSTED BY YOURS TRULY."

Huh. Not a bad title.

"I thought you were working on a courtroom trial program?"

He scoots to now sit behind the desk.

"UNFORTUNATELY, WHILE I DO HAVE THE FUNDS, I DON'T HAVE AVAILABLE WORKERS TO MAKE SUCH A SET. SO...WE'RE DOING THIS INSTEAD."

"Heh...Must be hard to meet your expectations."

"DARLING, YOU HAVE NO IDEA."

A tense dramatic score plays.

"SO, DARLING...ARE YOU READY TO TELL ME EVERYTHING?"

Ah. I see now. Fine, Metta, have it your way. Just be careful what you wish for. You may not like it. Now don't get me wrong. I know my limits. I'm not about to tell him EVERYTHING. I'm not that stupid. But if he wants truth, he's going to get a version that's missing some characters and other junk.

"As you wish. You wanna know the truth? You want to scar the entire Underground? Sure. Why not. What else do I have to lose at this point since you exposed me? So congratulations! I hope you like the prize you've been longing to get. Because I sure as hell don't."

Let the show commence.

[Now our featured presentation]

"RIIIIGHT...ANYWAY...WHY NOT INTRODUCE YOURSELF. LET THE UNDERGROUND KNOW JUST A BIT ABOUT YOU."

I wave with a stupid grin to where I think a camera is.

"Howdy, monsters of the Underground. My name is Lynsie. Last I checked, I'm 5'8'', twenty eights years old, born November 7th, am a Scorpio, blood type A+, and enjoy long naps by the beach."

Am I introducing myself or recording a dumb dating profile video?

Mettaton whips out some cards from his desk.

"REALLY? YOU'RE THAT OLD? HUH."

"Yeah. Why?"

"YOU LOOK OLDER THAN THAT."

I sneer.

"It's the raccoon eyes. Insomnia is a hell of a slap to the face."

"THAT ASIDE...HOW ARE YOU FEELING? YOU'VE BEEN THROUGH A LOT SINCE THIS PROGRAM STARTED."

"I'm grateful to have this reprieve. It's nice to not be flung into fight after fight for a moment. I don't like fighting. I'd much rather avoid any conflict if able."

"SUCH A KIND GIRL. ARE ALL HUMANS THESE DAYS LIKE YOU?"

I eye him funny.

"WHAT?"

"Do mean 'kind' or 'stupid'? Because every monster has called me a fool for being nice."

"STUPID IS A STRONG WORD. NAIVE IS MORE LIKE IT."

I rumble lowly in my seat.

"But...To answer you properly, no. Not all humans are like me. Or...I'm not like most humans."

"OOOOH~, SUCH AN AMBIGUOUS ANSWER. FINE THEN, IF YOU'RE GOING TO BE LIKE THAT, I'LL HAVE TO BE MORE BLUNT IN MY QUESTIONS. LET'S SEE..."

He flips through some of his cards.

"OH! HERE'S ONE...HOW DID YOU COME TO FIND YOURSELF IN THE UNDERGROUND?"

Blunt? I'll give you blunt.

"Easy. I tried to kill myself."

[SNOWDIN: Skeleton House in present time]

The mood in the room sours as the human continues.

"Yep. You see, Mt. Ebott has a reputation, a legend dating back lord knows how long, that those who climb the mountain never return. This has made it a popular place to die. Not as bad as the literal 'Suicide Forest' of Japan, but it does the job okay."

Mettaton's screen blacks out.

"Don't give me that look. You wanted this. You wanted the truth. So take it. Take the blunt no holds bar truth of the matter. And you know what else? It wasn't the first time either. I can think of at least five other attempts. Each more pathetic than the last. But, if memory serves me right, I do believe my very first try was when I was still so very small. Somewhere around age six to eight. I had learned that apple seeds contain cyanide, a very toxic poison. Of course, there's not a heck of a lot in a single seed, but if you ingest a lot...well...Kid me didn't know how many were needed. Just that it was deadly. As you can see, I didn't have enough and I didn't try that form of suicide again. I don't try the same kind twice. I'm too fearful of messing things up the second time. What if it only partly works and I end up surviving? Heh...Trying to end it all only to live but in even worse condition? The irony would be such a hilarious joke. Then again, that's my life in a nutshell. One big cruel unrelenting joke."

Toriel's eyes water. She knew her child had her demons, but she knew not just how far back they spawned. Mettaton's screen relights.

"I...I WASN'T EXPECTING..."

"Yeah, no one does. No one expects me to be so dark. But what can I say? I do a damn good job hiding it."

"BUT...WHY THOUGH? WHAT WOULD MAKE A CHILD THAT BENT ON KILLING THEMSELVES?"

She takes a deep breath and lounges back in her chair.

"You ever feel guilty for something? Something you have no idea why you should feel that way for but you just do?"

She runs her hands over her face.

"I don't remember why I asked her that question. Maybe I was just morbidly curious. I knew my siblings were unexpected pregnancies. The eldest never came to be, so whether it was a boy or girl is forever unknown. My brother came about in the randomness of my mom hooking up with my dad. She married my dad because, well, she did like him but also so that he wouldn't be deported once his school visa ran out. He and his family escaped their homeland to start a new life...but did so illegally. Even on the surface, there's no true freedom. Four years into the marriage, I was born. Things only seemed to spiral from there. Dad would stay out drinking. Mom would be pissed. Bro and I would hide in my room and try to keep the fighting out. Mom gave up on him, someone else charmed her heart and would later be the father of my sister. Eight years into this world and they divorce and months later sis is born. She was unknown and with how old mom was at the time, she now suffers from spontaneous seizures."

The girl looks up in thought.

"So a few years ago, I asked mom...Was I unplanned like they were? Was I another surprise baby?"

She looks back down, her face holding a more cold expression.

"No, she told me. You were the only planned one. ...I should've stopped there. *sigh* I then asked...Why? She answered..."

Emotion leaves her.

"We had you in the hopes that you'd fix our marriage."

Silence. Dead silence.

"So much pressure. And to put that on a babe? How was I supposed to solve your problems? How is it my fault you couldn't stand each other when things got rough?! How is a kid supposed to make sure you don't start taking drugs and acquire sixteen felonies?! How is it my job to make sure you don't regret loving someone else?! How is that fair?! Why not take some fucking responsibility for once in your god damn life?!"

She becomes irate, grabbing one of the chairs and beating it into another one till both are useless before ending with a guttural roar that pains the throat in its harshness.

Toriel recalls similar words from her not long after they became close and she found her.

"Child? You're trembling. Is everything all right? Child, please. Just speak to me. Tell me what's wrong."

"I hate you! I hate all of you! You fucking pieces of shit! Why?! Why is it so hard for any of you to care?! I've been missing for days or weeks and none of you care! *sobs* Did you ever love me?! Why did you even bother having me if you don't even care that I'm gone?! *bawling* Why? Why? Someone tell me why...please..."

"I know this isn't the most pleasant of times to ask...But since we've come to know more about each other, I have been curious about something. The humans that fall down here...They tend to not fall down for the happiest of reasons. If it is not too painful...Can you share with me your reason? What made you come to a cursed mountain where none ever return from?"

"*hard sniffling* They used to care. I used to know what it was like to know others cared. I can't remember when they started to pull away. When I became invisible. I just want to know why. Was it something I did? Did I do something wrong? Did I not make them proud? I thought I did everything right. I was a good girl. *voice cracking* I'm a good girl. Aren't I?"

Even Grillby had memories of such talk pop into his head.

"You are an amazing person. You live in his cold place and open this bar to every sad face willing to cast aside their mean spirits for spirits of another kind. You put up with a lot of nonsense, a good bit came from me today, and I'm sorry about that."

"Where is all this coming from?"

"I'm not done. You have been nothing but nice to me. And doing that isn't easy in this world we live in. Since meeting you, you've shown me more kindness than I got from my own family, and this is only our second meeting. Heh, how pathetic is that? I fell into the Underground trying to die, only to end up wanting to live because of the few that showed me any decency. And for that, I give you my thanks."

"Pussycat?"

"I don't know if it was the punch or I'm just in a weird mood. I'm probably making things awkward. No one wants to hear someone ramble about lame junk when at a bar. This is a place people go to forget things. I know I've got a lot I want to forget. Like the three or four times I ran away from home but never had a plan and always had the cops take me back. Or the time I cussed out my grandma because I thought she lost my dog when it turned out my mom had dumped the pup at a shelter and told me it escaped. Or the suicide attempts..."

"Attempts?"

"Oh yeah, there was more than one. Hard to believe, but I'm a very sad person. No, that's being too nice. Depressed is more accurate. 90% of the smiles you see me do are fake. Just part of the mask I wear to hide how truly miserable I really am."

"God, I hate myself. I'm a sad pathetic mess."

Sans now gets a clearer picture of the baggage weighing on her.

"oh! and don't forget, you're making dinner. pap only let that slide because you were practically dead. so don't get any ideas thinking you can get out of it."

"Did you just really say that?!"

"the hell is your problem?"

"Did you really just insinuate she'd harm herself?"

"i dunno...maybe?"

"You can't say that kind of stuff to her!"

"why not?"

"You...You don't know how she came to the Underground, do you?"

"she told me that she fell."

"I'm not comfortable telling you this, seeing as she hasn't and I don't think it's my place, but I can't let you say idiotic things like that."

"okay, weed, you have intrigued me. if she didn't fall, then how did she get here?"

"Well...Falling is how she came to the Underground. But...She didn't fall from an accident."

"you're telling me she..."

"She fell on purpose. She...was trying to die. I don't know about her life on the surface. She doesn't tell anyone about that stuff, not even Mom. But I have been with her since the start and I can tell...Under all that toughness and pass the goofy dork innards...She's very sad deep down."

And that moment that recently happened at Grilbby's.

"enough with the act! you act all calm, with your little quips and remarks. making you look so well put together. but i know better. i know you're just as messed up as the rest of us. so why don't you get off your high horse and get out of my life!"

"You're right. This is an act. Every day, I wake up and I pretend to be this way. To play this role of the girl that never gives in and can smile through it all. I put on my mask and face this world as best that I can. But inside I'm dying. I'm being crushed by insecurities, doubt, depression, and so much negativity that I let myself fall into a pit hoping for the sweet embrace of death. I have attempted to end my life a good handful of times. Each more pathetic than the last. Even now, I'm just a few triggers shy of crumbling into a blubbering mass of tears. Yet there are few things that keep me from doing those bad things now that I'm here. And if putting on this act keeps me in, relative, ease...Then yeah. I'm gonna pretend my ass off that all is fine with me. Because I'm a fucking moron that is too afraid to open up to those closest to me and ask for help!"

Papyrus, of course, takes all this in as vital information he could use against the human. Her emotional and mental instability can be used to manipulate her. Grooming her to be more obedient to his will.

"I'm sorry."

"DAMN RIGHT YOU'RE SORRY."

"No...I mean, I'm sorry for earlier. It was wrong for me to hit you. You just...*sigh* How do I say this without sound like a dweeb?"

"JUST...SAY WHAT YOU WANT TO SAY. DON'T ALTER YOUR WORDS. THEY LOSE IMPACT THAT WAY."

"If that's true, then don't make a big deal out of this."

"W-WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

"I am an emotional wreck and going through so much internal bullshit that it ain't funny. So know that the stupid things I'm about to say are true because this is making me feel very vulnerable and uncomfortable which I think you feel too."

By now the human was breathing heavily over the shattered remains of once recognizable objects, slowly regaining her composure. She stares at the mess for some time. Mettaton doesn't even try to do anything that could get her attention while in such a state. Eventually, she drops the bits in her hands and takes a seat in the chair she spared. Slumping in remorse and holding her face.

"I'm sorry. That...That was shameful. I'll pay you back for the damage."

"DO YOU NEED A MOMENT?"

She rubs her eyes of faint moisture.

"N-No...No. I'm fine. That...That was just a moment of venting weakness. I normally cry this crap out of my system. But...I'm so sick of crying. Yet...That felt good though. So much pent-up bullshit I don't or can't let out was just dropped like weights off my back. ...Does this count as therapy? Because this feels better than that child physiologist mom sent me to after I ran away...the first time."

"SOUND LIKE YOU DON'T CARE FOR YOUR PARENTS."

"You'd think that, but no. Don't get me wrong. I love my parents. They could've been far worse even with the flaws I've mentioned. Dad never missed work and made sure bills could be paid. Mom always made sure we could eat even if it meant she didn't and often broke the law to do so."

Her head lolls back as she lounges.

"It's easier to dwell in the negatives than the positives growing up. It can make for a bitter soul. This is just the tip of a massive iceberg, there is so much more crap hidden below. But now is neither the time nor place to dive deeper into those murky waters. I'll drown if I stay under too long. *sigh* I don't hate them for the life they brought me into. I'm just...disappointed. Disappointed by the choices they made and things they expected to get from them. Disappointed in myself for allowing all that to have so much of a hold on me. Disappointed...So very disappointed...*long drawn out groan* Could we please leave the personal questions for now?"

"VERY WELL."

He flips through the cards.

"YOU'VE BEEN IN THE UNDERGROUND FOR SOME TIME NOW. HOW HAS THAT BEEN? WHAT IS IT LIKE TO BE A HUMAN AMONG MONSTERS?"

This gets their attention. The human knows better than to tell all. But she's so far been extremely open. They hoped she was of sound mind enough to remember to keep some secrets.

"Even after all the attempted murder...I prefer monsters to humans. Because at least once the fighting is over, things can be somewhat normal. It's like 'hey, I know I just tried to kill you, but do you wanna maybe hang out for a bit?' and then that happens. It blows my mind how there's no animosity or spite afterward. After Humans fight with each other there's no calm, no peace of it being over, hell, a war might break out if it was bad enough. You never know how bad someone feels after and if the grudge they carry will make them go to extreme measures to make them feel better. Well...Except for the Irish. Those lads can tussle and then be all chummy after like it was a bonding experience. Nice folk. Always fancied them. Heh...Kinda like Monsters. A tough outside but nice inside. Maybe that's one of the reasons they were persecuted too. ...God, my kind is trash. All it knows is hate. We even hate ourselves. And one day...That hate will be the end of us."

She moves some hair from her face. A small smile coming to her.

"Moments like this...It's nice. Brief pauses of reflection and repose. Typically I end up doing this kind of thing in my head or I talk to myself. Funny how that works, the mind I mean. It is a self-aware entity in itself that can be both you and not you at the same time yet won't confuse itself by doing so. Probably why the imagination is such vital part of it. *pause* Heh...My bad. Lost myself for a moment. Back on point...Sure, this all began with you nearly killing me and it's probably just leading up to something else. Something good or bad. Yet till that happens...This is nice."

"SPEAKING OF NICE...YOUR LV HASN'T GONE UP FROM ITS BASE LEVEL. WE'VE SEEN YOU GO INTO FIGHTS, SO IT'S NOT THAT YOU'VE AVOIDED THEM COMPLETELY."

"As I've said...I don't like fighting."

"YOU MUST BE AWARE THAT PACIFISUM IS NOT A RECOMMENDED OR AN EASY THING TO DO IN THE UNDERGROUND. IS IT HARD BEING NICE FOR YOU DOWN HERE?"

"Is it hard for a fish to swim or bird to fly? Nice is my default. I don't have it in me to be genuinely mean. I can be rude or even a bitch, but that's only if that was how I was treated first. The real hard part about it is getting others to understand this niceness is real. Some pick it up with no trouble. But others are difficult. Going so far as to think I'm trying to lull them into a false sense of safety as part of an evil human trap. Can you believe that?"

Sans eyes Papyrus who rolls his sockets at his brother, both knowing damn well she meant him.

"EVEN SO, HAS THERE BEEN A TIME WHERE YOU WANTED TO FIGHT BACK? SURELY EVEN I PROBABLY INCURRED SOME IRE FROM YOU?"

She looks at the mechanical machination with a mix of confusion and annoyance.

"Ire is a strong word. True, I'm not happy about this situation. Exposing me for ratings. One of your goons bashing me over the head. The creepy stalking behavior by watching me through cameras. The needless puzzles and fighting. All of it wasn't necessary."

"I DISAGREE. EVERY BIT WAS COMPLETELY NECESSARY."

"Bull crap."

"NOW NOW, LET ME EXPLAIN. REGARDLESS OF YOUR INTENTIONS, YOU HAVE TO AGREE THAT YOU BEING HUMAN DOES CALL FOR CERTAIN MEASURES TO BE TAKEN. HUMANS DEAL PHYSICAL DAMAGE AND MONSTERS ARE WEAK TO SUCH ATTACKS."

"I know that. Get to your point, Metta."

"MY POINT? VERY WELL. MY DATABASE CONTAINS THE COLLECTED INFORMATION WE'VE GATHERED FROM THE PREVIOUS HUMANS THAT CAME BEFORE YOU. EACH WEAKER AND WEAKER AS TIME PASSED. YOU, ON THE OTHER HAND, HAVE BEEN DISPLAYING STRANGE ABILITIES..."

A monitor comes down, displaying the human in her earlier distress and giving off that strange energy.

"NOT TO MENTION YOUR SOUL HAS BEEN CHANGING IT'S COLOR WITHOUT MAGIC INFLUENCE."

The monitor shows the many different colors her soul was throughout the show.

"SO, DARLING, AS YOU CAN SEE EVERYTHING HAS BEEN COMPLETELY NECESSARY. EVERY LITTLE OBSTACLE ALLOWED FOR MORE OF YOUR UNKNOWNS TO BE REVEALED. HOWEVER..."

The monitor goes back up.

"I GET THE FEELING YOU'RE STILL HIDING SOMETHING."

She glares at the robot.

"I repeat, this wasn't necessary. All you needed to do was ask."

She sits up straight and focuses. Her soul emerges...it is a deep dull blue.

"I don't know everything. Seeing as this whole 'soul' thing isn't known on the surface anymore. To use now, the soul is an intangible thing. It leaves when we die and does whatever since no one truly knows what happens after death. But...I do know my soul isn't normal. Not normal from what I've learned here anyway. I possess ten traits for which my soul can become."

Shock smacks them. Even Mettaton spits oil from some port.

"T-TEN?!"

She nods.

"Ten traits. Ten colors. Nine of which are completely fine."

Her breathing falters as she concentrates harder, forcing the soul to change color to her will.

"Blue, integrity. Cyan, patience. Green, kindness. Pink, passion. Purple, perseverance. Orange, bravery. Red, determination. Yellow, justice. White, hope. ...These are my main traits. The nine that make up my core personality. Yet...There is one, the last one, that I will not show you. No matter what."

A question mark appears on Mettaton's screen. Toriel and Sans know full well which one she means.

"WON'T SHOW? HOW COME?"

"That soul is too dangerous. One that I can't control. The black soul of relentlessness."

Papyrus sockets widen. Sans wasn't making it up after all.

"IF YOU TRULY EXPECT ME TO BUY INTO THIS BLACK SOUL NONSENSE THAN YOU BETTER FIND A WAY TO PROVE TO ME THAT IT'S REAL!"

"and how do you expect me to do that? have it triggered and let her kill half the town?"

"OF COURSE NOT! SHE'D NEVER GET THAT FAR INTO SUCH A SPREE ONCE I SLAY HER."

"YOU DON'T THINK I CAN KILL HER?"

"her? sure, you'd kill her no problem. she'd probably let you do it if things got really bad. but the black soul? that's a different story all together."

"YOU TALK AS THOUGH YOU'VE SEEN THIS 'BLACK SOUL' IN ACTION."

"..."

"YOU HAVE, HAVEN'T YOU?"

"that thing isn't something you want to mess with. don't go after something you can't handle."

"YOU DARE THINK THAT PITIFUL CREATURE CAN HARM ME?!"

"no! i don't think it would harm you! i know it would kill you!"

"I have no will over that trait. It consumes me utterly. Coldly targeting anything and everything as a threat, then calculatingly eliminating victims brutally with no remorse by any means. Pain doesn't phase it. It has no fear. But I do. I fear this soul. I fear becoming that...that thing. That beast."

The robot's screen blips.

"YOU MAKE IT SOUND TERRIBLE. IF IT'S AS BAD AS YOU SAY, HOW HASN'T YOUR LV INCREASED? SURELY A MURDEROUS SOUL LIKE THAT WOULD HAVE A BODY COUNT ATTACHED TO IT?"

"I have thankfully been taken out of that state when it happens. My brother down here, the flower you may have seen me with, he's the one that saves me. I don't know how he does it as I only barely register what happens when the Black Soul is in control. But it's one of the reasons why we stay together. He doesn't want to die and I don't want to hurt anyone, so it's a good deal for us both."

"AND DO YOU KNOW WHAT TRIGGERS SUCH A STATE TO HAPPEN?"

"I'm not 100% sure but I have a theory. The worst of times. Moments when I lose all hope or can't take the pain. Mentally and/or physically. It takes over when I can't deal with things. And I guess it tries to 'solve' the problem...by getting rid of it."

Her demeanor is becoming more unsettled as she continues.

"I...I normally am unwilling to share this information. I don't like being personal with strangers. But since this is a live broadcast, and I've basically torn open a can of worms full of my emo baggage, I want this to be known. I need others to understand the danger. Because you all seem to view me as an easy kill. The dumb nice human that doesn't fight back. It'll be easy to get her soul. Hell, if it weren't for the black trait, I'd have given this thing to you guys ages ago. But it's not worth it. There's no point going to the surface, otherwise I'd be more inclined to leave and be subjected to the crap I deal with. And trust me...You don't want to know what I deal with."

Her eyes get dark and her expression serious to the point it's unnerving.

"The death that can possibly happen if the black soul activates and isn't stopped could be limitless. As the bearer of this curse, I remain here. Not because I see less harm if it triggers around monster, hell no. I trust my death to you because I have faith in monster kind being able to handle it. It's because I don't want to risk it being weaponized by humanity. Magic...REAL magic like this is gone from the surface. If it were to be discovered now...Magic will be coveted like any other valuable resource. Blood and dust will be spilled over ownership. The experiments to find a better means of harvesting it, the torture, the suffering, the endless cycle of hate feeding upon the lack of morality. I have no doubt monsters wouldn't even be seen as people. We've done it to different creeds of humanity throughout history, hell we still do it. I...I don't want that for Monsters. Part of me is saying I'm overthinking it, but I can't that optimistic side of me knowing all the fucked up shit Humans do. I don't want you guys to suffer. I don't want to cause harm. I don't want to see any more death! Please!!"

Her eyes are watering and her body trembling.

"I...I-I hate this feeling. This h-helplessness. I'm caged. I'm useless. I'm nothing on the surface. I'm a danger underground. I'm my own worst enemy and I don't know how to fight. *struggling* Why? Why didn't the fall kill me? Why can't I just die? Why am I so weak? I can't even bleed to death!"

She's a mess, weeping into her gloved hands. But Mettaton dismisses this display and keeps going.

"WEAK? YOU SELL YOURSELF SHORT. CLAWING INTO YOUR OWN BODY ISN'T A VERY WEAK THING AT ALL. COME TO THINK OF IT...IN YOUR ENCOUNTER WITH MUFFET, YOU TOLD HER WHY YOU DID IT. CARE TO EXPLAIN WHAT YOU MEANT?"

A recording is played.

["I have just spent an ungodly amount of time trapped in that elevator over there having my soul violated by people that don't even exist anymore on this plane of reality. I have clawed my skin off to stop feeling their hands on me."]

Her face has the look of someone biting their tongue fairly hard to stay in control.

"What's to explain? I meant what I said and said what I meant."

"YOU'RE AVOIDING THE QUESTION, DARLING."

"No. You're refusing the answer."

"YOU SAID YOU'D TELL THE TRUTH!"

"I am!"

Agitation mounts.

"BULLSHIT! HOW THE HELL CAN ANYONE BELIEVE THAT?"

"I don't give a crap if you believe me or not! You weren't the one there!"

"JUST TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED!"

"It doesn't matter! You can't do anything about it! No one can! You can't stop people that break the laws of reality!"

Sans didn't like what he was hearing. And none of them liked that her still exposed soul was sparking with that strange energy.

"THERE ARE NO PEOPLE LIKE THAT!"

"How would you know?!"

"IF EVEN A FLY FARTS ANYWHERE IN THE UNDERGROUND, I KNOW ABOUT IT. IF ANYONE WITH ABILITIES LIKE THAT WERE HERE, THEY WOULDN'T BE UNKNOWN FOR VERY LONG."

"Did you not hear my words? They don't even exist anymore on this plane of reality! You can't find people that are outside time and space, you fucking idiot!"

"I'M THE IDIOT?! DO YOU NOT HEAR YOURSELF?! OUTSIDE TIME AND SPACE?! YOU CAN'T EVEN MAKE A CONVINCING LIE!"

"I'm not lying, you insufferable ego-maniacal narcissistic jackass!"

"TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED!!"

"I did! Accept the fact there is shit in life you can't fathom or comprehend yet is true! Like Bigfoot, life on other planets, or stigmata! Unexplained phenomenons are the backbones of reality! Deal with it!"

"THAT'S NOT AN UNEXPLAINED PHENOMENON! THAT'S A PURE IMPROBABLE IMMPOSSIBLITY!"

"By who's rule?! Are you God?! Do you know every infallible law the universe runs on?! No! You know nothing! No one does! So stop digging for shit that isn't there before something bad happens!"

"THEN GIVE ME A REAL ANSWER!"

"Stop...Please stop!"

"DARLING..."

"I s̷ái͟d͝ s̷t̢̛o̧͘p̀͟!̵̕͜!̧"

A surge of energy bursts from her soul, the flash whites out the screen and hurts the eyes. While blinded they all can hear the garbled sounds of pain and the sudden thud of weight hitting the floor. Their sight comes back to see the human writhing on the ground and gripping her soul, teeth bared in restrained growling.

"DARLING?"

She struggles to make her body move. Just slightly getting her head off the floor.

"Th͜i͞s͠...͜T́h̴i̵s̸ ̛įs ̕y̕our ̛f́aul͝t͏..̢.̴I͜ ͟a͡ske͝d ͠y̕o͏u t̷o͜ ͜s̛top..̢.̵"

The energy courses from her soul over her form, a brighter than normal light emanates from her clutched soul. She weakly pulls herself up to be supported by her free arm and the reason for the light is made clear, a crack has marred her soul. But that is far from the worst part. Sans spots it before Toriel but she's the one that points it out.

"Oh no!"

"What's wrong?"

"The darkness!"

Indeed. Black began to appear in the human's heart. The darkness corrupting the white light and faintly leaking out of the crack. The girl feels this. Panic flashes in her eyes but she's in no condition to handle so much on top of what has already happened.

"Wh̸en̢ wil̡l҉ ̛yo͡u̶ le͘ar͜n.͞..̡Y͘ou ̴fuc̀kín͜g id̴iot.̸..W͢hén wil̡l yoų ́a̶l̢l͜ léar͘n that͏ ̵y͘our act̵i҉o͞ns ͏ha͡v̛e ͘co͡n̴seq͘uenc͘e̶s͘?͘!"

The distortion. The off tone. The malice that seeped out. Perhaps it was enough proof for the automaton to believe her earlier words. For Mettaton seems to be distracted one second and then takes it all seriously the next. One of his hands snakes under his desk and the next thing to happen is the floor beneath the human opens up, dropping her into the unknown. Glitched roaring echoes as she plummets. A sickening crash leads into dead silence.

"WELL...THAT WAS INTERESTING."

His nonchalance about the whole thing is upsetting.

"SADLY, MY CO-STAR SEEMS TO BE HAVING A BIT OF TROUBLE. NOT EVERYONE CAN HANDLE THE STRESS OF BEING IN THE SPOTLIGHT, LIKE MOI."

His flamboyance is rubbing them the wrong way.

"HOWEVER, DESPITE HER TEMPER TANTRUM AND LACK OF COOPERATION, I WILL ASSURE YOU ALL SHE IS NOT DEAD. I MERELY GAVE HER THE SMALL BREAK THAT SHE CLEARLY NEEDED."

It's likely that the break involved her bones or some body part.

"BUT...I CAN GIVE YOU ALL SOMETHING TO LOOK FORWARD TO...THIS WAS THE LAST PRELEWD ACT. THE NEXT TIME YOU SEE US TOGETHER, IT WILL BE FOR THE MAIN EVENT. THE FINAL BATTLE APPROACHES, MY ENCOURAGABLE VIEWERS. DO NOT MISS OUT ON THIS HISTORICAL MAKE OR BREAK MOMENT."

The show shifts into a commercial break.

Toriel begins shaking. She can't deal with this much longer. Grillby does what he can to give her support, but he too has much on his mind. His pussycat unloaded a TON of things and a lot of it was incredibly concerning. Papyrus ushers his brother away from the other two as not to be overheard.

"SO...HOW LONG?"

Sans looks at him funny.

"uh...what?"

"HOW LONG WERE THE BOTH OF YOU GOING TO HIDE THIS PART OF THE SECRET FROM ME?"

"um...which part?"

"THAT POWER. SHE HAS TEN TRAITS, SANS. JUST HOW STRONG IS THAT GIRL?"

Sans scratches his skull.

"i honestly don't know, pap. i didn't even know she had that many. my main worry was always the black trait, so i never asked about others."

Papyrus folds his arms and shuts his eyes in thought.

"i swear, i ain't lying to ya."

"I KNOW YOU'RE NOT."

"then...what's wrong?"

"*HUFF* I DON'T LIKE THIS. I DON'T LIKE THE IDEA OF THAT WEAKLING BEING POWERFUL."

His eyes open but look at nothing.

"I SHOULD'VE KNOWN SOMETHING WAS OFF THAT NIGHT...THAT PUNCH...SHE WAS HOLDING BACK SO MUCH..."

Papyrus clenches his fists into tight balls of rage.

"THAT BITCH."

"ya know she didn't want to hurt ya."

"THAT'S THE THING. SHE THOUGHT SHE COULD HURT ME. HOW WEAK DOES SHE THINK I AM? THAT'S WHAT'S PISSING ME OFF MORE THAN ANYTHING RIGHT NOW."

Sans sighs. One day his brother will taste humble pie and not like it.

[HOTLAND: LAB]

Undyne finishes off her sixth bowel of ramen and looks at Alphys.

"Well...That wasn't how I thought it was going to end. Was it really necessary to tell him to drop her?"

Alphys takes a few more notes and ponders.

"Would you rather there be no main event? Besides..."

She adjusts her glasses.

"If what the human said is true, then the Black Soul being triggered in an open area would result in mass casualties. The zone in which the ending will be shot in is, for the most part, closed and under my remote control. So even in the event of something going wrong, which the odds of such are highly unlikely, then any and all threats can be dealt with in an optimum manner."

Undyne nods.

"I guess that makes sense. Still...I don't what I saw. There was real fear in the human's eyes."

"Good. She should be afraid. She should be very afraid of what's to come."

"And what's that?"

"That would be spoilers."

"Damn it. *sigh* A human soul with ten traits...Sounds tough. I wanna fight it!"

"It does raise a lot of questions. One, in particular, is on my mind."

"What's that?"

"If a human soul, deprived of magic, possesses ten traits and begins gaining magic...What will happen when it attains 100% magic?"

A cold chill runs through the captain.

[HOTLAND: SOMEWHERE ON LEVEL 3]

I am getting so sick of this crap. Why can't I just die at this point?

"*muffled* Lynsie?"

The voice and light jostling is bringing me back to consciousness. Damn it. Here I go again.

My eyes weakly open to the sight of dirt and rock. Just an inch away from losing the ability to see. Like I need a handicap in all this.

"Lynsie? Are you okay?"

Ah, Flowey. It's about time we met back up.

"*groan* H-Hey, bro. I missed you."

He smiles sadly.

"Are you okay? Can you move?"

I roll over on my back and check myself.

[HP ██████████ 10/40]

[HEARTBREAK level ONE in effect]

I figured that's what happened. No wonder the Black Soul was triggering. Thank goodness for the fall knocking my ass out or things would've gone bad fast.

"I think I'll be okay. Sore, but okay. I'm sadly getting used to falling and possible brain damage."

My answer has him pout.

"What's with the face, bro? You know I'm a tough cookie. I'll be fine."

His face gets full of concern.

"I...I heard what you told Mettaton."

Yeah, you and the rest of the Underground.

"I...I understand now why you didn't talk about your past. Why you kept to yourself. I'm sorry."

God, he's too sweet for this place. I reach over and gently stroke his petals.

"I love you, bro. You have no idea how much it means to me that you care. But don't pity me. I do that enough on my own."

I wearily sit up, shaking my head of all that baggage I brought up for the show.

"I wasn't pitying you. It's just..."

He fiddles with his leaves in a shy way but I cut his words off.

"Bro, I get it. I do. It's the same feeling like when you told me your history. Yet, let's be honest here, you're more mentally mature than me and I'm still not completely okay after getting all that off my chest. We can talk more about it later after this ordeal is over. Maybe over mom's cheesecake? Deal?"

"...You mean it?"

"Yeah. I promise."

He smiles brightly.

"Okay. I'd like that."

I pick myself up and stretch, taking a look around at where we are.

"Don't tell me he dropped me back at the start."

"Nope. This is still Level Three. In fact...I do believe MTT Resort is just past this place."

"...For real? Is it a safe space?"

"Yep. There are shops and rooms to rest."

I hear a heavenly choir sing in my head.

"Finally! The universe throws me a decent bone!"

I regret saying that the moment it leaves my mouth. Flowey looks at me funny.

"Don't take that out of context, you know what I meant."

"I don't know. You and Smiley Trashbag are eerily close."

My eye twitches. Things I wish Gaster didn't show me try to pop into my head.

"Are you okay? You look like you're about to puke."

"Never insinuate something like that ever again."

He shakes his head at me. I try to change the subject before I have a heart attack on camera.

"So...Are you able to follow me to the resort? I'm sick of being separated."

"There's ground outside of it and parts I can reach beyond it, but the resort itself I can't get in without some sort of aid like a pot. Cement and tile flooring is a pain to break into."

"Damn, bro, you hella strong."

There's a deactivated reversed conveyor belt that's attached to the artificial platforms.

"Is it safe to cross? It's kinda giving me 'trap' vibes."

"You should be fine. This is normally the part where the colored tiles would be used again, but you know, stuff changed. It's probably off."

"Ah. Gotcha. I guess...See ya soon?"

"You bet."

He ducks into the ground so I take it as my time to leave this pit. The entire time I feel on edge. With my luck, the trap will turn on and I get screwed. Thankfully nothing happens apart from some jets of flame randomly going off in the distance and making me jump like a wuss. At least it got me to the stairs quicker.

After a quite the climb, I reach the top perturbed yet undaunted as a four-way crossroads greets me, though the two paths on the sides are blocked. More Royal Guards, a cat to the left and some kind of insect on the right, both in that imposing armor.

"Well if it isn't my best customer..."

The Ice Scream rabbit pops up from behind the cart I wasn't paying attention to.

"Fancy seeing you again."

As odd as seeing him here is, he's a familiar face that is a sight for my sore eyes. I approach.

"Hey, guy, what's up? Haven't been seeing you much in Snowdin Forest for a bit."

He leans on the cart like a cool guy.

"Yeah...Been moving around seeing if I can make mad gold somewhere where the weather isn't the same temp as my product."

"Any luck?"

"Waterfall wasn't so bad. Even started a new program with rewards cards. Turn in a card with ten punches and get a free doubling of your next order. Speaking of which..."

He reaches into his pants pocket and hands me a punch card. Some holes have already been made.

"If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't have had the funds to get this far. So...Instead of starting your card full, I may have added your previous buys. Can't say I haven't gotten better at my wonderful salesmanship."

I can't help but smile. He's come a long way. I'm proud of him.

"Well then, wonderful salesman, I'd like to add some more holes please."

"Heh...sure. But I'm warning you, prices have gone up. 25G. Got to charge more here 'cause of the heat."

"Understood, my dude. Um...Just curious...Got fudge pops? Kinda have this hankering for something chocolate."

He shakes his head.

"Sold out. The Royal Guards bought those like crazy."

"Damn. Oh well. One blue, orange, grape, and blood. All bisicles."

He fills my order and I pay the 100G.

"Here you go. All five ready to enjoy."

I look at him funny.

"Five?"

"Yep. Five. I definitely didn't toss in a strawberry one because of customer loyalty. Nope. Didn't do it."

Must...resist...the urge...to HUG!!

"...Thank you. That...That means a lot."

He gives me a wink and I practically skip away up another set of stairs. I place the treats in my inventory for now. I know not what crap will happen from here, so healing items are a big help.

I am met by a large complex. Redbrick that's been tagged with graffiti, yellow-tinted windows with some broken, a gold MTT sign with two Mettaton images with devil horns, a black & white checkered awning over the door, two large plant potters that have dry withered flower remnants, and a blood-red or just stained that way rug embroidered with gold MTTs.

"Classy."

I'm about to head inside when something hits my leg. A paper airplane? I inspect it to find it's a note.

[Hey! Go up the creepy alleyway on the right for some great deals!]

"...I'm gonna get mugged, aren't I?"

It's against my better judgment, but this is a neutral zone, so I should be okay. I wearily creep around, following spray-painted arrows, to end up finding two girls gossiping among garbage. They notice me and straighten up.

"Hey! Check it out!"

"Yeah! Check it out!"

"So, like, what's up? I'm Bratty, and this is my best friend, Catty."

"I'm Catty, and this is my best friend, Bratty."

Oh no...More valley speak!?! Why is that a thing down here?!

Bratty is a tall, green alligator or crocodile monster that wears a primarily black shawl with yellow and red details on the sides. She has yellow hair that flows into curls and red lipstick.

Catty is a plump purple cat creature who wears a set of black overalls with yellow buttons and tufts of red fur with yellow highlighted tips coming out from under it on either side. She has black hair with a red streak in it and a yellow earring on her left ear.

"Uh...Hi? So...This is a shop?"

"Like, the best shop!"

"You should buy ALL our stuff!"

Catty gets this blanket out and opens it out to show me their items. They don't have much, just four things, but I can't turn away from these items.

[25G - Junk Food - Has a big bite out of it]

[350G - Rusty Revolver - Bullets NOT included]

[350G - Tattered Western Hat - ATTACK up when worn]

[600G - Mystery Key - Probably to someone's house LOL]

A gun...How the fuck is that here?

"Oooh! I know that look!"

"That's the look of some wanting something!"

"Bratty! We're gonna be rich!"

"Where did you find this stuff?"

"I mean, like, where does anyone get guns, or food, or..."

"We found it in the garbage!"

I so called it.

"It's GOOD garbage."

"It's like, really good garbage."

"Where do you get the garbage?"

"Like, the garbage store, duh!!! ...Waterfall mostly."

"I found a gun in a dumpster!"

I check my gold...I don't have anywhere close to 1,300G for their garbage.

"Um...Maybe we could work out some sort of arrangement?"

They glare.

"That's poor talk."

"You need WAY more money."

What I need is to get that stuff away from them. That stuff is bad enough with humans, I don't want monsters messing with crap like guns.

"Ladies, I'm sure there's something we can do. Shops run on trade. This is just a trade of a different kind. I can't give you the gold, but I can get you other things. There's gotta something you'd both want that I can fetch for you in exchange?"

They mull it over.

"Thanks, but we, like, don't really need anything."

"Oh my god, can you go get us some Dazzleburgers?"

"We don't. Really need. Anything."

"Wait! I'll pay you 1000G if you get Mettaton to autograph my butt!"

Catty seems to be the easier one here. Maybe I can work with this.

"While I do know the guy, I'm not sure I can get Metta to sign your butt."

"Damn."

"Wait...You know Mettaton?!"

Their eyes sparkle.

"...Yes?"

They squeal with fanatical glee.

"Oh my God. Mettaton."

"Oh my GOD, METTATON."

"He's like...My robot husband."

"Actually he's like...MY robot husband."

"I think we're like...both going to marry him."

"We're both like, ALREADY married to him. He just, like, doesn't know it yet."

They're insane.

"Okay...Can I ask what's a Razzburger? I could try to get that."

Their eyes widen in shock.

"You don't know what a Dazzleburger is?"

"Do you, like, live under a rock?"

Don't we all do since this is a mountain?

"Dazzleburgers are epic!"

"They're only sold in the resort."

Interesting.

"Inside huh? Let me guess...Very pricey."

Bratty nods.

"The stuff inside, is like..."

"TOTALLY wicked expensive."

"But, like, this stuff we found is like..."

"TOTALLY wicked cheap."

"You should..."

"Like..."

"TOTALLY wicked buy all of it?"

"Cheap? You're selling a random key for 600G!"

They giggle at me and I sigh. Bitches, man...bitches.

"So where inside am I gettin' them?"

"The MTT-Brand Burger Emporium."

"You have to get them from Bugerpants."

That name...That name brings back memories...as well as sore spots. Douche-cat...

"Burgerpants."

"Yeah, that guy from the store. Yuck, what a creep."

"Yeah! He's a creep! But he's kind of cute, too..."

"C'mon Catty, don't you have ANY standards?"

"Nope!!!"

...You need standers, Catty.

"Yeah, I met him. Not so much a creep but he is a massive prick."

"OK, like, the annoying thing is..."

"He'd be OK if he just treated us with some respect."

"But he just acts..."

"Really weird."

"And then acts like it's OUR fault he acts that way!"

"Like, when we asked him to get those Dazzleburgers..."

"He dropped them and ran away before we could even say anything!"

"We were, like, going to share them."

"Really? I wasn't."

"Catty!"

This zone is full of awful people.

"One last thing...How many you want?"

Catty waves her paws.

"So many! Enough to fill a dumpster!"

"The mega value pack should cover us."

I give Bratty a thumbs up and leave their shady establishment. Now I enter the main building and this time I'm greeted by someone for once. It's either very diamond-like or very origami-like, but above all, it's a tiny monster.

"Welcome to MTT Resort - Hotland's biggest apartment-building-turned-hotel! Whether you're here for a night or still live here, MTT Resort prides itself on a great stay! Just passing through...? Nice! MTT Resort prides itself on being passed through!"

"Interesting business model. Does it work?"

"Oh, indeed it does, human."

"You know what I am?"

"Oh yes! The staff has been informed of your coming and instructed on how to handle you upon arrival."

Oh god, what now?

"Over on your left, we have a dine-in restaurant complete with a stage which hosts a wide cast of live acts. Either comedy done by locals or Mettaton entertains when he isn't too busy."

"Neat."

"If you're feeling like you hate yourself, behind me is the MTT-Brand Burger Emporium, home of the Dazzleburger!"

Well, they know how fast food works.

"All further questions can be taken to my coworker behind the desk."

I scratch my head and shrug.

"Thanks."

I walk away and head for the other receptionist. It's not a bad-looking lobby at least. Red & yellow checkered tiles and the rug from outside continues forward into parts unknown. The obnoxious fountain of Mettaton is gaudy though. I reach the desk and the monster behind it is a weird one. It's blue and its head is a hand with very well manicured red nails.

"Yes, we know. The elevator music volume is super loud and the song is stuck on a three-second loop. We are working on it. Because of this incident, rooms are running at a special rate! 200G a room. Interested?"

Someone sounds grumpy.

"No thank you. I was told to come to you. I'm the human if that helps."

Their head fingers extend in alert.

"Oh! Sorry. I was instructed to inform you on where to go next."

"That would be helpful, yes."

It motions to where the rug is heading.

"If you follow the rug there, you'll be lead out back to the entrance of the CORE. Mettaton will be waiting for you at the top."

"Could I use the elevator instead? All this travel is exhausting."

"No can do. The elevator leads to the Capital and main residence of our people. You're not allowed to go there."

"Oh...That's fine. I didn't want to go there. Just trying to take shortcuts if able."

"*ahem* If you require a small rest, might I suggest renting a room?"

"I don't the gold, sorry."

"That's fine. Mettaton has pre-paid a room for you. One time only."

I'm stunned. Damn him! Why does he confuse me so much?! I want to like and hate him at the same time!

"Um...In that case, sure. Where are rooms?"

They motion again.

"Down the hall to the right."

I wait for them to give me a key or card but nothing is there except awkwardness.

"Is there a problem?"

"No...not really. But...uh...Isn't this the part you give me a room key?"

"What? Room...Key? No, we don't do that. If you leave your room, you'll have to pay again."

So if I enter I can't leave or else I'll have to pay? That's insane!

"On second thought, maybe later."

"Shame. Do let us know if you change your mind. Have a sparkular day!"

I'm getting the feeling they're being nice because they were told to be. Otherwise, I doubt I'd be given such a warm welcome. Oh well. Time to pay a certain someone a visit.

I stroll up to the emporium and find myself paused. I can go about this in many ways. The different choices and outcomes play out in my head super fast. After a few, I settle on something...something that'll leave an impression. I push the doors open. A digital bell sounds. I look at what appears to be a sadder version of McDonald's. And like a mindless corporate drone, he speaks while moping the floor before seeing "who" just walked in.

"Welcome to MTT-Brand Burger Emporium, home of the Dazzleburger. Sparkle up your day (TM)."

He begins to turn around.

"What can I do to..."

His eyes widen seeing me, grinning sadistically at him like a lunatic.

"Uh...help?"

This hurts my throat to do, but it really sells this whole thing. I deepen my voice to imitate Dr. Claw from Inspector Gadget and just laugh. He is unnerved to say the least.

"*menacing* No one will help you."

"H-Hey now...Don't think of doing anything funny."

I walk up to him and he backs away slowly before leaping behind the counter.

"Stay back! You can't hurt anyone in shops!"

I keep the deep voice.

"*menacing* Hurt you? Foolish boy...Why would I do that? It's not like you put a cigarette out on my wrist and bashed my head with a bat!"

That last part was done a bit too harsh and I end coughing. All seriousness leaves.

"*coughs* Nah, man...*normal* I ain't gonna do anything. For reals. I was just messing with ya."

He eyes me funny.

"Riiiiiight...What do you want then?"

"Preferably, my phone."

He flinches, his eyes looking quickly down then darting back up.

"I..."

"Metta doesn't have to know."

"What do you mean he won't know?! He knows everything that goes on here!"

"Look, you either give me my phone, or I'm gonna go back there and take it."

"You're not seri..."

My dead stare shuts him up. He seems to freeze up now. I sneer and put my hand out. He looks at my hand and then starts sweating. I'm beginning to lose my patience.

"You have five seconds."

His fur stands on end and he suddenly slams his face on the countertop, giving himself a bloody nose.

"Sorry, (Ha ha) it's against the rules to talk to customers who haven't bought anything. And talking with you this long has put me in serious shit. If you want this 'exchange' to continue, you're going to make a purchase."

I'm not happy.

"...What do you have?"

[60G - Sorebet - Very popular food.]

[120G - Dazzleburger - Very popular food.]

[300G - Mythical Villain - Anti-Hero Sandwich. ATTACK UP in battle.]

[500G - Biltong Slab designed to look like Mettaton - Don't ask. Please.]

I huff through my nose and shell out the 60G.

"That Sorebet better come with my phone."

"Yeah yeah. Don't get your panties in a twist."

"Fuck you. I wear boxers."

He eyes me with a blush before heading into the back. Might as well chat him up while I can.

"So...Do you know the chicks behind the building?"

"Huh? Oh...Them. Yeah, I know them. What of it?"

"They were talking about you."

"The girls were...Talking about me...?"

Hooked him.

"They mentioned you threw burgers at them and ran."

"Bullshit! That is not what happened."

He comes back to the counter with a glass of frozen dessert and my phone.

"Care to enlighten me?"

He sighs and lights a cigarette. I wonder if he can do that while on shift?

"Never interact with attractive people. Unless you're 'one of them', they're just gonna take advantage of you. Those two chicks asked me to sneak them some Dazzleburgers. And I, the naive teenager that I was, said yes to them. Bad idea."

"What happened?"

He takes a dag and lifts the collar of his uniform shirt open, blowing the smoke in there.

"Does that really keep the smoke from spreading?"

"It's worked so far. *puff* So I went out to the alley to see those two ladies, and uh...you know, see what'd happen next."

"Like...Naughty stuff?"

"...Maybe."

"Nice."

He blushes.

"Anyway...Then my boss comes out of nowhere, sees me, and demands to know what I was doing. I was so startled, the hamburgers in my pockets tumbled out onto the ground. Not wanting to lose face to the girls, I scrambled to pick them up! But, as I was bending down, the weight of the remaining hamburgers...*puff*...caused my pants to fall down."

He expected me to mock him. But I can't feel anything more than pity for the guy. This surprises him and he continues his story.

"Then the girls laughed at me. Everyone calls me Burgerpants now. It's gotten to the point I can't remember my name half of the time. It's even on my name tag for fuck's sake!"

Poor douche cat.

"I think you're the first to not laugh at me or that story."

"Why would I laugh? That's...That's messed up, man."

He takes another drag.

"You know something...I misjudged you, human. I know it ain't much, but, I'm sorry for being an ass."

I rub the back of my head.

"I'll be honest, guy...Since the bar thing, I've seen you only as a prick. The idea of you having hard times and lashing out didn't cross my mind at all. That's my bad right there. Sorry on my part for being a bitch."

He smirks.

"So...You're really not going to tell Mettaton about this?"

He hands me my phone.

"Dude, this stays between us. Besides, he's kinda been pissing me off lately."

"Yeah, he does that."

He takes a deep drag before putting the cigarette out on the bottom of his shoe.

"Can I give you some advice? I'm getting on in years, so take it from me...You've still got time. Don't live like me. I'm 19 years old and I've already wasted my entire life. I'll probably be trapped at this stupid job forever. But wait! There's one thing that keeps me going! If ASGORE gets just one more SOUL, we'll finally get to go to the surface! It'll be a brand new world! There's gotta be a second chance out there for me! For everyone!"

"Maybe. So, what did you want to do before this?"

"Oh...I wanted to be an ACTOR."

"Neat."

"When I first came to Hotland, it was my dream to work with Mettaton. Well, be careful what you wish for! God, look what that idiot has done here. This place is a labyrinth of bad choices. And every time we try to change something for the better, he vetoes it and says that's not how they do it on the surface. Oh! Right! Humans are always eating hamburgers made of RHINESTONES AND GLITTER."

"...I can assure you we don't eat that. Eating that would be very bad for our health. Maybe even fatal. Monsters don't really eat that...Do they?"

His eyes shift and I facepalm.

"And you guys think I'm gonna hurt ya?"

"You should probably get going. The boss will get his gears in a bunch if you take too long getting to the CORE."

"Fine."

I put the Sorebet in my inventory and remember my awkward side-quest.

"Oh! Before I bounce, can you help me with something?"

He tilts his head.

"What?"

"The chicks, Bratty and Catty, they have items I want but don't have the crazy amount of gold. They say they'll trade for a mega value pack. Any way you might be able to help make this trade happen?"

He sighs.

"Really? Do you know how much that is?"

"1300G close? Because that's how much I need."

"...What kind of shit are they selling that's worth that much?!"

I goofily shrug. He groans and rubs his face.

"I can't just give you that much for free."

"Catty thinks your cute."

"...For real?"

I nod. He fidgets, fingers tip-tapping and pitter-pattering.

"Okay, I'll tell you what...You score me a hook up with her and I'll give you the burgers."

Damn you rule of three in side-quests!

"Argh...I guess I can try. It won't be the weirdest thing I do today but it is on the list though."

His eyes light up with excitement. I can't mess this up now. How often does he actually smile like this?

"Thank you! *ahem* I mean...Cool."

I slink out of the emporium and head for the exit.

"Um, excuse me, human...The CORE is the other way."

I groan.

"I know. I'll be back."

Exit building, go into the creepy alley, and meet the girls again.

"Look who's back."

"Do you have the Dazzleburgers?"

I show my empty hands.

"Ha! I knew she'd blow it."

"Sucks to be you!"

"Hold up. He'll give me the goods. But..."

"But...?"

"Catty...Do you really think he's cute? 'Cause he thinks you're hot."

Catty's face flushes. Bratty rolls her eyes.

"For reals? He wants a date?"

"A date? A hangout? A simple meeting while he's working? I don't know. For all I know she can walk in, say hi, and that's it. All I need is confirmation and you get all those shiny burgers."

"Yes!"

"Catty...?"

"What a deal! A cute guy and free food! It's the score of a lifetime!"

"Catty, he's a loser. You hang out with him once, then he wants to hang out... All. The. Time."

"But don't you feel bad for him, Bratty? Poor Burgerpants...Think about how cool we are compared to him!!! We'd be saving his LIFE with our awesomeness!! His LIFE, Bratty!!"

"Uh, so?"

"Think of all the Dazzleburgers he could get for us!!"

And just like that, I feel like shit for doing this.

"...So is he free after work?"

"*huff* I'll be back...again."

Leave the alley, enter the building, meet up with Burgerpants.

"I don't like the look you have there. Did she say no?"

I can't lie to this guy.

"Dude, I'm really uncomfortable with this."

"What's wrong?"

"She said yes. But..."

"She said YES?!"

"I mean, she agreed, but please listen..."

"Ha! Ahahaha!! Yes!!! You've brought a tear to the eye of this old man."

I feel so bad.

"Dude, please...I'm, like, 100% sure she's gonna use you for free food and maybe gold."

"...So?"

I'm taken back.

"Look, you don't think I didn't think of that? I know she's probably going to use me. Everyone does. If it's for the food, I don't care. That's just another way I can stick it to my boss. Speaking of..."

He plops this cardboard case down on the counter.

"A deal's a deal. The mega value pack for the girl."

...Okay, they're made for each other. Everyone here is trash!

"So, uh, what time did she say she wanted to hang out?"

I hate everything about this!!

"I'll be back again."

Take food, leave, exit, alley. At this point, I nearly shove the shit at them.

"Oh my God!"

"Is that the mega value pack Dazzleburgers?"

"OH MY GOD!!! GIMME!!!"

"God, Catty. Try to have some self-control."

"Sorry..."

"'Cause they OBVIOUSLY brought the Dazzleburgers for ME."

"NO WAYYY!!!!!"

I point to the items.

"Trade. Now."

Bratty puts the key and gun into the hat before handing it over to me.

"Thank you."

I put the key in my inventory and equip the other two.

[You equipped the Tattered Western Hat]

[You gain 12 Defense and 5 Attack]

[This battle-worn hat makes you want to crew on straw for some reason. It also raises attack by 5.]

[You equipped the Rusty Revolver]

[You gain 12 Attack]

[An super old gun. It has no ammo. Must be used precisely, or damage will be low. Duh.]

[HP: 40 ATK: 62 DEF: 50]

I am becoming OP!!

"Oh! Give burger-boy this!"

Catty hands me a scrap of paper with her number.

"Fine. I'm just glad this is done."

Back to Burgerpants. I slap the paper down.

"Here's her number. I hope you don't regret this."

His face contorts in a weird way...Is he...Happy?

Sweet! I need to pick a spicy outfit for my little shindig later. Though, now that I think about it, I had to throw away all of my clothes to make room for the outfits Mettaton gave me."

"...What?"

"Don't take it the wrong way. They're just all these...Weird getups. 'Promotional' costumes. For 'holidays'. Or 'specials'. Or 'because he felt like it'. The thing IS though! Most of the time I'm the only employee who has to wear this stuff! Sometimes he even calls me into his office just to...Make me put something on...Then he laughs and lets me go back to work as normal."

My pity meter is breaking.

"Anyways, I won't sweat it. I'll take it casual. NEVER let hot people think you care. That's how they GET you."

And the pity meter dropped dead.

"Good luck with that."

I leave on that note. Fuck this resort. Fuck this quest plot. Fuck this whole damn thing!

Wanting this shit show to be over and done with, I do as instructed by following the rug's path out some doors that have a giant sign above that says "CORE". Lazy-ass designers, I swear.

Weirdly this leads to a balcony. A balcony that has been opened and a walkway built that connects to the massive facility. The light from the resort barely shows half of the path as the CORE itself surprisingly gives off the faintest glow. The CORE is an entirely mechanical complex that is largely black and yellow with red accents. The blah colors aside, what gets my attention are the two monsters that were minding the entrance that slip inside when I show up. I don't like this.

"Flowey, you better be able to get here. I have a bad feeling about this."

Approaching shows more of this crazy thing. The CORE appears to be the most industrial and modern region of the Underground. Ozone, a byproduct of electrical power, is omnipresent below the floor level of the CORE. This could mean the CORE might be made of stainless steel, titanium, or platinum; as ozone is highly corrosive to most organic materials. If this is the case, they could use this stuff. The CORE could be a source of ozonated water, which cleans clothes, sanitizes food, and purifies drinking water. This also implies this might be the greatest source of oxygen in the Underground as ozone simply decomposes into oxygen at high concentrations and temperatures. The only hazard I can think of is that oxygen is a shitty thing to breathe. Breathing pure oxygen at high pressures can cause nausea, dizziness, muscle twitching, vision loss, convulsions, and loss of consciousness. Breathing pure oxygen for a long time can irritate the lungs causing coughing and/or shortness of breath. Higher exposure may cause a build-up of fluid in the lungs and subsequent death. Guess how much more O2 is needed to do this to a person? 20% more. God, Humans are so freaking weak. I'll need to be careful here.

The lobby of the CORE has an elevator to the north and two paths to the left and right. Not a bad looking place, very lavishly decorated, the floors are engraved with intricate patterns and multicolored neon tubes serve as wall ornaments and embellishments. I check the elevator, which is disabled, I'm not shocked at this point. Not much else to do, I go to the path on the right, which turns out to be a small room with a square platform overlooking a pit of fire. Not bad. I do enjoy looking at fire. It's pretty. Moving on! Going through the left path leads to a rectangular stretch of wall-less hallway with a doorway at the end.

"Hmmm...My bullshit senses are tingling. I'm willing to bet a random encounter/ambush is about to happen."

As if cued by my words, something cracks the back of my head and then hits my gut as I turn.

"*wheeze* Called it..."

My attacker appears and my dull cracked purple soul is forced out to play.

[Madjick pops out of its hat!]

Madjick has a typical appearance of a wizard. It wears a curved wizard hat, a pair of boots, and two rotating orbs emitting cross-shaped particles. Madjick has a sly smile on its face, but a pair of bright eyes are hidden just under its hat.

[FIGHT]

[ACT]

[̴͝SP͜͞E͡L̵͜L͟͠͏]͘͢

[ITEM]

[MERCY]

I wonder if SPELL will work on this thing? ...N-No. No. Can't chance it. Stick to normal tactics.

[ACT selected.]

[New options available.]

[CHECK]

[TALK]

[STARE]

[CLEAR MIND]

...The fuck kind of options are these?!

[CHECK selected.]

[MADJICK – HP: 190 ATK: 29 DEF: 24 – This enemy can only speak in magic words.]

Finally! My states aren't shit compared to my attacker. Also, only speaks in magic words is the most fucking adorable thing I've ever heard.

"Abra cadabra."

An orb spawns off to my left and rapid-fires crosses at me. I dodge and the orb tries to cut me off by going where I'm headed. It fires about eight times and moving around is not so great.

[HP ████████████████ 16/40]

Thank goodness my defense got increased during all this crap. I could've been really messed up.

[Madjick flaunts its orbs in a menacing manner.]

It snickers.

"A smug one. I like that."

[TALK selected.]

"You know...I can do magic too."

It looks at me intrigued.

"Yep. I can make your smile disappear."

It pauses before sneering at me.

"See? I made it vanish before your very eyes!"

It didn't seem to like my humor.

"Hocus pocus."

[Madjick begins chattering to itself. Its gibberish dizzies you...Your DEFENSE drops by 1.]

My head feels fuzzy. Did it just jinx me? Are there more types of magic than what I've been told?

One of the orbs begins to chase me while deploying harmful but immobile crosses. Yet due to the jinx, my sense of direction is ass-backward. Left is right and right is left. Up is down and down is up. However...much to Madjick's dismay...I'm used to being incredibly dizzy. My childhood was filled with countless hours of boredom appeased by spinning around till I couldn't see straight.

[HP ████████████████████ 20/40]

Ha ha...Suck on those magic balls, wizard-boy!

"*slur* Is that what you call magic? Boo! Disappointed!"

[Madjick whispers arcane swear words.]

"*slur* Oh...Someone needs to put some gold in the swear jar. I'm gonna tattle!"

It growls.

"Eh eh eh. It's not your turn."

I slap my face a few times.

[CLEAR MIND selected.]

"I wonder where Flowey is?"

[You think of pollen and sunshine. Your confusion abates. Your DEFENSE increased by 2.]

"...What?"

"Alakazam!!"

It tries to surprise me with that following orb trick. But now that I know that move it's not so bad.

[HP ██████████████████████████ 26/40]

Huh? Am I auto-healing faster? Sweet! Surely that only means good things for me.

[Madjick peers at you with strange eyes.]

"What? You scared? My sick moves and auto-healing too much for you? No worries, wizard-dude, we cool. I got you."

The hell did I just say? Am I magic high? Fuck it.

[MERCY selected.]

[New options available.]

[FLEE]

[SPARE]

[SPARE selected.]

It looks at me funny. Then it looks at my HP.

[HP ████████████████████████████████ 32/40]

It flinches.

"Please and thank you."

Madjick accepts my act of mercy.

[YOU WON!]

[You earned 0 XP and 120 gold.]

The fight ends, my soul returns to my body and I give my opponent claps of approval.

"Good show, buddy. Keep up the good work."

It seems confused but nods, hovering away behind me towards the exit.

"Well...That was weird."

My head still feels odd. Nothing a few brain sloshing shakes of the old noggin won't fix. Anyway, no time to question strange feelings or whatever. I gotta get through this so I can get back to Toriel. Onwards I go.

Continuing forward, I enter a room with a bridge that is cut off by a tesla coil. Wow. Hadn't seen that in a long ass time. How much do I wanna bet there's a convenient off switch nearby. Oh, look! A super obvious switch right there on the wall. Who could've ever had guessed! I flip the switch and lasers fire at me! First blue, then blue again, and orange. Thankfully they're slow, so once I triggered the first blue laser I easily hit the deck to avoid the others that pass by.

"Setting booby traps on top of other traps now. Geez, Metta, I'm starting to think you don't like me very much. Well, that's fine. I don't like me either! So come at me already and quit this pussy bullshit!"

Calm down. No need to get riled up. Get through this and go home. Then I can just stuff my face with Nanny's awesome cheesecake and pass out happy. I march on, doing my best not to look down or notice how some of the walls and floors are chipped away. Now I'm paranoid about if any other laser that turns up is functional or decorative.

The path leads into a crossroads with a path to my left and a path straight ahead. My bullshit sense is tingling when I look at the left path. Straight ahead it is.

This room contains a bridge with many blue and orange lasers followed by a massive wall of blue lasers.

"Nope. Just nope. Screw the rules! I have plot armor importance and common sense!"

Fuck this outfit. Fuck this shit! I have lost all my fucks! I get down on the floor and combat crawl the long as fuck cold metal catwalk.

"*muttering* Stupid bullshit. Why do I have to be nice? If I wasn't nice, I wouldn't have to put up with shit like this. Bitches don't end up in laser catwalk traps. But no...I have to be a decent person. *getting louder* I have to be a good girl. I have to not give in to the overwhelming urge to punch assholes for being assholes because that's wrong for dumb reasons! *shouting* Why am I pissing myself off?! This is extremely counterproductive given my current situation! Fuck!!"

I blame all this on Mettaton. That's a healthy way to look at it. Probably not. But I'm not a mental health doctor! The fuck do I know?! After crossing the bridge, I storm grumpily along another walkway only to reach something called "Core Branch".

Turns out the "Core Branch" is a four-way intersection. Fan-fucking-tastic. Man, my mood is fucking sour. Maybe the digital sign can be useful and give me directions.

[North, the warrior's path. West, the sage's path. Any path leads to The End.]

"*growling* This is so...FUCKING STUPID!!"

Nope. Not falling for anymore of this. I choose neither side and go straight. This middle path of the "Core Branch" has me entering a vertical room with a right path leading to the eastern portion of the "Core Branch". There's nothing to my left. It just drops into the ozone, so it's certain death. I'm so sure this place followed all safety measures. There is a sign on the wall that is telling me to "Get lost...And stay that way".

"Wha...Why have signs telling me to leave when you told me to come here?! Stupid metal moron giving me dumb mixed messages."

I hate everything. No monster better encounter me while I'm in this mood. I take out a gold piece and flip it. Heads for straight and tails for the right. It lands on tails so right I go. This has to be the stupidest designed building ever! What the hell was Gaster thinking?! Was he on the drugs? Because this seems like he was on the drugs! 'Cause now I'm at another four-way crossroads. Only now I have two digital signs.

[To the East! This is The End.]

[I cannot fight. I cannot think. But, with patience, I will make my way through.]

A third, and hopefully final, tesla coil blocks what has been established as the exit. This means there's a switch somewhere. F that shit. Know what? You know what'll piss everyone off? I'm gonna do what that sign said. I'm going to be patient. Because if I know Mettaton, and I know massive egos very well, he won't want boring content to be televised and eventually spice things up. I plop my edgy tush under the sign and...wait. Using this time to chill. Let this negativity go and...

*Clank-clank-clank*

Oh hell no!

A large monster ominously approaches. Knight Knight is a monster that wields a great staff with a sun symbol in her right hand. She wears a suit of black armor and what resembles a horned helmet with a crescent moon emblazoned on her forehead. The helmet's eyepiece occasionally widens and un-widens as if it is her mouth. Her torso is dominated by a dragon face whose beak occasionally opens and closes, revealing a small eye. It is unclear whether which face is the true face.

"Let me guess...You're here to make me move?"

"Yes."

"No."

She's confused.

"...No?"

"Did I stutter? I'm not moving."

She readies her spear.

"Then prepare for..."

"Let me stop you right there. I get that you're doing your job and following the law, and blah blah blee bloo, whatever. I have been through one of THE worst days in my life. My mind, soul, and charitable goodwill have been pushed to limits that are very VERY thin now. I am in no mood to deal with any more crap. So I'm going to say this once because I ain't fighting you or moving from this spot till this electrical blockaded is gone...Turn around and go home."

She doesn't take me seriously and laughs.

"Heh heh...You have no power to give me orders, human."

She takes a step closer and I snap.

"I͏͟ ̧̀̕W͝IL͘͡L̴ ̶Ŗ͟͜I͝҉P͘ ̵O͜F̧F̛͞ ̸̀Y̧͡O̡͢U̡͠R ͠H̸EA̶͏D͏͢ ̸̕A͜N͢D S̢̛͜Ḩ̶Į͢T̵̕ ͝D̶̀OW͞N̷̴͠ ҉͞Ý̸̢O̡͡U̡͢R ̸ŅE̴͝CḰ̡̧!͞͞!̧͢"

She stumbles back in shock. The strange energy sparks off me. I regret everything.

"I̵'͘͟͏ḿ͢͞ ̧̕͞so̧̨͡r̴̢ŗ̷͜y̧.̵̛.̢͞.̛p̢l͝ea̷se͢.͟.́͢.leave me. I'm so sorry."

I seem to have disturbed her. She slowly steps back and turns around when she's convinced I'm not going to move.

"Adieu...Human."

She leaves me and I let out a shaky exhale. It's getting worse. I'm losing control. I can't do this for much longer. I haven't been given any proper time to deal with this shit. My internal bottle has been shaken too much! It's going to explode! I...I...

"What the heck was that?!"

Flowey pops up beside me and I'm too freaked out to be startled.

"Sis? What's wrong?"

I hold myself in an attempt to squeeze into a tiny ball of self-loathing. This only worries him more.

"Lynsie?"

I...I can't...I need a break. If only I had my music. I could drown out all this. Lose myself in the lyrics.

"B-Bro..."

"Yes? Talk to me. I can help. Tell me what you need."

"...H-How fast can you get to Snowdin?"

He frowns.

"You want me to get 'him', don't you?"

All I can do is nod.

"I...I can help too. You don't have to turn to him."

My eyes dart to the blocked path. He puts things together. He is a smart boy after all.

"True. Mettaton is that way and the room his encounter takes place in is an elevating platform. I can stretch from my roots pretty far but not THAT far."

He pouts.

"*huff* I guess there's no other option. He does have experience helping you out when things get bad. And he can teleport."

I feel bad that I'm making him do this...again. Like in the dead timeline.

"I...I'm sorry."

"Wha...N-No! Don't apologize. I understand. You're worried. It's okay. We'll get through this. Family helps family. What kind of big brother would I be if I didn't do everything to help? Even if that means getting others to help when I can't."

"...I need a hug...please?"

It pains me to see him hesitate. But vines come out to wrap around me for a bit.

"Thank you."

The vines retract and he extends to nuzzle my cheek.

"It won't be like last time. I promise. You won't kill anyone. No one's going to die."

"H-How do you know?"

"Because you're strong. You just have to believe in yourself. I know I do."

...I needed that. I give him a smile.

"There we go. There's my sis. Now keep that smile. I'll get Smiley Trashbag and we'll be back home with mom in no time."

He really is too sweet for this world. He sinks into the floor and I forgot to ask how he was able to get through this floor. I mean, I guess he said he can get through cement so metal can't be too far of a long shot. Asriel sure is a super strong boy even as a flower.

*BUZZ*

The power to the coil suddenly is shut off remotely like I so knew it could be. Damn it. I was hoping to have more time. How impatient is Mettaton for this? Reluctantly, I get up and walk down this new road. Halfway along this bridge, I am blocked by three vaguely familiar monsters that look like tougher versions of monsters I see in the Ruins.

Final Froggit has spike-like protrusions on its head and eyelids, accompanied by a crown-like muff on top of its head. Its lips are marked with lines, as though wrinkled from age. Its "shoulders" are decorated with sharp excrescents, while the silhouette between its legs forms a face with a triangular smile and cross eyes.

Whimsalot has a more human-like appearance than Whimsun. Also, its antennae are thicker, and there is a muff on their head that branches in two. Whimsalot's appearance is also accompanied by a double-bladed spear and a knight mask. Its ghost-like torso is skinnier and shorter.

Astigmatism's body consists of a large ball and four spiked limbs. The ball is accompanied by two "horns" on each side. When idle, a large eye can be seen on the ball also with three eyelashes. However, it changes from this face to another where the eye hollow is changed with a smile. When having its eye closed, the two side eyelashes become Astigmatism's eyes, while the middle one simply becomes a marking.

I don't know what I must look like to them. Probably dreadful. Because they move aside with not a word being side. I nod in thanks, proceeding to the end which for all I know might be the most tragic moment of my life second to Grillby dying. No! Stop it! Do as Flowey said. Smile. Stay chipper. Think of something silly. Like how dumb this place is. Honestly, was Gaster high making this place? I'll have to ask him later. Nah...I'll ask Sans. Less hassle.

The bridge comes to an end, leading to a shadowy doorway and an elevator that probably would've been super handy but was out of order to pad out the length of this bullshit subplot. Augh...It's so much easier to think my life is a fictional story or internet abridge series. It's the only way my brain allows most of this crap to make any sense.

"So this is it, huh? The epic conclusion of this grand show. Heh...I want to feel accomplished for making it this far. Almost. But all I do feel is..."

I can't finish my sentence. The weight I thought I got off my back earlier begins pressing on me again.

"Nothing...I feel nothing. *sniffling* Damn it...Don't fucking cry!"

With a breakdown seconds away from happening, I enter the doorway to the room of darkness and a door shuts behind me then locks. There is no going back now.

Please...I made a promise...Please...Don't make me have to RESET...Please...I'm begging...Please...

[notquiteaghost]

there’s nothing i wouldn’t do

mcu/hawkeye comics, post-avengers, barney&clint, 2k

inspired by this post

AO3 link in notes

He wasn’t expecting it to be a thing, is the problem.

Like, how often do aliens fucking invade New York? Once in a lifetime deal, it’s gotta be. Clint was busy — with having a hole in his chest, but SHIELD wouldn’t like him picking fights with run-of-the-mill mobsters, so it was, once again, up to Barney to step up and keep his baby brother safe. Hell, even if Clint could’ve got out his building without passing out, Barney still probably would’ve gone instead. Clint’s just a guy.

He had a plan, and it should’ve been simple. Bandana tied round his face, hair hidden under a beanie, and only Natasha’s gonna notice which Barton is actually slinging the arrows around, and Natasha’s well-aware of Clint’s stab wound. Murder all the aliens, sit through Coulson’s lecture on Clint’s behalf, hopefully their building’s still standing by the end of it. Hold it over Clint’s head until they die. Never, ever do it again.

Except.

He goes after the wannabe god, and the wannabe god can, obviously, control fucking minds, so then he shoots a shit ton of almost-entirely-innocent SHIELD employees. And then Natasha knocks him out of it and they all murder a shit ton of aliens, so hopefully SHIELD will cancel the shoot on sight order, but after all the aliens are dead, Tony goddamn Stark drags them all to get shawarma, and it’s not like Barney can say no. He can’t make Captain America think Clint’s an asshole.

And then, three days later, when Barney’s trying to explain to Coulson that, no, Clint is absolutely not going to fucking Russia, Clint can’t lift his arms, and also they’re still trying to get back the power in their building and also also as far as SHIELD is concerned it was Clint who got used as a puppet by a hostile alien and then bounced without any kind of medical eval so what is this actually about, because it sure as shit ain’t a human trafficking ring — three days later, his phone rings. Caller ID says Your New Sugar Daddy, so it’s Stark, so Barney hangs up on Coulson and answers it.

“Y’know, I could use some new shoes,” he says, throwing Clint’s phone on the couch when it immediately starts buzzing again. “What’re your terms? How much skin am I showing to get some new shoes?”

Stark splutters, but recovers within seconds and says, “Shoes are a titty pic at least,” and Barney is suddenly, sinkingly certain that him and Stark could be friends. It makes him shudder. 

He bites back the joke he wants to make about how many titty pics he gets to send before Stark stops buying him shoes, and says, “Titty pics ain’t why you’re calling, though.”

“Heard you’ve been having some apartment trouble,” Stark agrees, casually, like he has any way of knowing that that isn’t really fucking creepy. “Y’know, I have this great big tower. It’s got, amongst a lot of other things, an entirely self-sustaining power system.”

“…You want me to move in with you?”

“I’m just letting you know it’s an option, that’s all.”

Barney narrows his eyes. “Anyone else say yes?”

Stark huffs. “You’re first on my list, actually. Figured I’d start with the easiest, work my way up.”

Again, Barney bites his tongue. He cannot flirt with Tony Stark when Tony Stark thinks he’s his brother, no matter how funny it is. He’s sworn off starting shit with Clint since they got banned from Lithuania. “And what if I like my apartment?”

The briefest of pauses, before Stark says, “Then you keep living in your apartment. Again, just letting you know your options.”

“Pay to have the power lines for my block fixed,” Barney says, just as Clint stumbles out his room, “and maybe I’ll swing by for lunch. That’s what this is really about, yeah? Team building shit?”

“Wait, your block doesn’t have power?”

Clint is staring at him, eyes narrowing. He’s been awake maybe ten minutes, and it’s a coin toss if he’s remembered to put his aids in yet. Barney makes a face at him. “Half the damn city doesn’t have power, don’t you watch the news? Hell, ain’t people waving big signs outside your front door?”

“I’ve been—” Stark starts, then stops himself, then presumably remembers he’s trying to tempt Barney into some kinda morning-cartoons perma-sleepover and that’s gonna require some emotional vulnerability, and says, “Been in the workshop, mostly. The suit didn’t cope so well in the vacuum of space. But, yeah, power, I can do power. Text me about lunch.”

“Only if Captain America’s there, too,” Barney says, then hangs up. Clint’s eyes are even narrower. He’s gonna give himself a headache. “What?”

“Were you talking to Tony Stark?”

“Yeah, he wants me to move in with him.”

“He wants me to move in with him,” Clint counters.

“Hey, I’m the one who actually fought the aliens, kid—”

“I was all for fighting the aliens! You ziptied me to the bed!”

“And that you couldn’t get out of those makes it clear you were in no shape for fighting the aliens.” Barney walks into the kitchen, digs through their pile of homecooked food — you showing up on TV saving the world makes everyone want to cook you things, it turns out — for Clint’s pain meds. Clint leans against the wall and looks pitiful.

“Maybe I wanna live with Tony Stark,” he says. Barney laughs, hands Clint the tablets and the water so his hands are free to talk.

“Thought you were gonna die in this shithole. Thought, next time anyone shoots you, you were gonna demand they carry you back here so you can bleed out on the floor since getting the blood out’ll be someone else’s problem.”

“Bet Stark’s eyesore of a tower’s got power, though.”

“And soon,” Barney assures him, “so will we.”

Clint shuffles back to the couch and flops over it, and almost hides his wince at the feelings his stab wound has about that. “Bet Stark’s tower’s got heated floors. Stupid fast internet. Bet he’s got chefs and cleaners and everything.”

Barney always forgets how being hurt makes Clint into a five year-old again. “If some stranger tried to clean your room, you would stab them.” Clint sticks his tongue out.

Then he jumps, because Barney’s phone is buzzing again. Got his aids in, then.

It’s a text, this time, from an unknown number.

???: Stark tells me you’ll only come out to play if I come out too - Steve

“Holy shit,” Barney says, “Captain America is texting me.”

“What the fuck,” Clint pushes himself up, “Give me the phone. Give me the phone! He’s texting me!”

“Again,” Barney says, typing complete nonsense so Clint hears the tapping noise, “it was me who he bonded with when we murdered a load of aliens together, he has no idea who you are.”

“Barney. He’s Captain America.”

Goddammit, that fucking whine. He throws Clint his phone.

Then stands behind him to watch him type.

You: he ain’t exactly my usual kinda buddy

You: appreciate the thing with the missile obviously but also i don’t think he pays taxes?

Clint backspaces four times to change his terrible text speak for actual words. It’s hilarious. 

steve!!!!: He fucking better.

You: if you yell at him about this please film it

You: i promise not to put it online i just want it playing on a loop in my apartment

steve!!!!: He says ‘Excuse me of course I pay taxes, I have to get rid of all this money somehow’

steve!!!!: I’m double-checking with Miss Potts.

You: did shield just give you the phone numbers of the entire population of new york

steve!!!!: No, I think it’s only 30%.

You: oh shit do you have fury’s number

steve!!!!: Strangely, no.

You: dammit

You: one day

“You are definitely the reason Fury didn’t give Captain America his personal cell number,” Barney says. Clint shoves at him. 

steve!!!!: Not planning on moving into Stark’s place, then?

You: think living somewhere that expensive would give me a rash

You: don’t tell shield this but i stole my apartment from the mob

“Oh my God Clint they are definitely reading his texts,” Barney groans.

You: hey uh unrelated but anyone give you an update on opsec

Clint glares at him, pointedly, then makes a truly inhuman noise when he reads Steve’s next reply.

steve!!!!: Is that an offer?

“Oh my fucking God I’m gonna become best friends with Captain America,” Clint says, low and reverent.

Barney rolls his eyes. “He still thinks he’s talking to me.”

“So? You wore a mask and shit, he won’t notice.”

“You are so fucking injured. He will definitely notice.”

“Okay, then you wear a wire, and I tell you what to say—”

Barney snatches the phone back, types out ‘hell yeah let’s get a drink, when you free?’, then locks it and tucks it away. Clint is fully pouting.

“I’m going out,” Barney reminds him. “Coulson wants you in Russia, I’m gonna find out the fuck why. Amuse yourself for a while, you can keep flirting with Captain America when I get back.”

“If you really loved me you’d wear a wire,” Clint huffs. Barney ruffles his hair and goes to find his jacket.

–––––––––––––––

“Explain to me again,” Coulson says, exasperated in a way Barney’s more used to seeing directed at Clint, “why you thought pretending to be Clint was in any way a good plan.”

Usually, they have chats like these in some pretentious hipster place, where all the drinks have dumb names and cost twenty bucks a pop, but for obvious reasons that’s not happening. So, they’re in a park, miraculously untouched. There’s a flock of pigeons going at what looks like some bodega’s entire stock of bread.

“Clint was stabbed doing something SHIELD don’t need to know about; SHIELD didn’t tap me for the Avengers, ‘cause they still think I’d sell them all out for the right price; aliens were invading New York; I live in New York and I didn’t have any other plans.”

Coulson pinches at the bridge of his nose. He for sure agrees Barney made the right call, given the givens, and he will for sure die before he ever admits it. Barney is the reason the wannabe god didn’t stab him through the chest, though, so Barney is gonna try and make him admit it.

“You don’t have clearance to know about the Avengers.”

“Half the world knows about the Avengers, we were on every news channel there is.”

“Prior to the Chitauri invasion,” Coulson says, exasperation ticking up a notch, “you did not have clearance to know about the Avengers Initiative. SHIELD already don’t trust you, and now you’ve been compromised by a hostile alien with unknown motivations and allegiances—”

“Which is why SHIELD’s gotta keep thinking it was Clint,” Barney agrees, “‘cause they'll just straight up shoot me.”

Coulson sighs, heavily. But he doesn’t disagree.

“Going forward, then,” he says. “Are you going to continue to be Hawkeye?”

“I kinda really thought the alien invasion was a one-time thing. You telling me we’re expecting more aliens?”

“Not with any certainty,” which is Coulson for ‘yeah, probably’. “But I, for one, would rather we were prepared. And with the way some things are going, the Avengers may be needed for purely Earth-based disputes.”

“You get superheroes, you’re asking for supervillains?”

“Unfortunately.”

Barney lets out a long breath. It should be hilarious, that some idiot might actually pull on a cape and a dumb mask and try to take over the world, but he just got done stopping the last idiot, and they’re still pulling out the bodies. Morning cartoons never have collateral damage.

“I gotta talk to Clint,” he says. “He’d be better at it, but he’s been muttering about bouncing from SHIELD lately. Taking it real personal that you don’t trust me, who’d’ve thunk it.”

“I trust you,” Coulson says, lightly. Barney rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, no shit. Look, I’ll go to Russia, but someone’s gotta babysit Clint while I’m gone. I’m sick of the fucker pulling his stitches.”

“I don’t know who’s going to be there to meet you—”

“This ain’t the first mission I’ve run in Clint’s place.”

Coulson blinks. Huh, Barney had honestly thought he knew about that. “Well,” he says, “then you leave bright and early tomorrow morning. Try not to get in too much trouble, would you?”

Barney grins, trademark Barton asshole. “No promises.” 

[johannstutt413]

(requested by anonymous)

“Alright, that’s all for today.” The Doctor stretched in his chair. “Made pretty good time, too.”

“Mmhmm.” Schwarz acknowledged his comment.

He stood up, throwing on his jacket. “You wanna grab a drink? I’ll buy.”

“You’re still trying?” She shook her head. “I won’t say no to a drink.”

“Before you fully agree, though, one condition: you tell me how you got to where you are today. I’ve heard something about you taking out an entire clan, and I want to know how much of what the rumor mill fed me is true.”

Schwarz thought for a moment. “You’ll buy the whole night?”

“The whole night,” he agreed. “Get whatever strikes your fancy, I’ll foot the bill.”

“Alright. You, me, two bottles of good whiskey, and I’ll tell you my story.”

The Doctor nodded. “Sounds like a fair trade to me. To the bar.”

-

“So, yeah...that’s my story.” They were at a table in the bar, several bottles of whiskey in front of them (one half-empty, the others fully drained). “Like I said, it’ll keep you up at night - took awhile for me to get over it, I know.”

“That is a nasty one...I wonder if the old me would’ve batted an eye, though. From what I’ve heard, I’ve been a part of similar events, both the winning and losing sides. Did you get the clean break you’d wanted?”

Schwarz thought for a moment. “Mostly. I don’t have any guilt about what I did, but...I still carry that training, those scars, the pit in my heart covered over with others’ blood and Ceylon. That poor girl - she still thinks I can be saved. Imagine that.”

“She’s not the only one,” the Doctor smirked. “This might be a bit rich coming from me, but I bet there’s still hope for you.”

“You really mean that, Doctor?”

He nodded. “I do. There’s your connection with Ceylon, which you might laugh at me considering, but...honestly, if you were truly heartless, you couldn’t even have forged that bond, and for it to have become this strong over the years since? You still have a sense of right and wrong - a rather precise one, even. Look at Lappland, look at Spectre, look at Skadi; the truly far-gone don’t have an understanding like that. And then, there’s...eh, maybe that’s too far a stretch, even if it matters to me.”

“While we’re in a spilling mood, Doctor,” Schwarz replied, “I’d prefer you do your fair share.”

“Alright, then. Well, Schwarz, the fact that you were willing to come and talk to me like this. I know you go out to drinks with the other mercenaries and whatnot every now and again, but the fact that you were willing to go into this with me, it...it made me happy.”

She shrugged. “I make Ceylon happy as well. Usually by accident.”

“Fair, but...” He was drunk enough he knew he had to be more careful about his choice of words, but also drunk enough for that definition to slip. “Is she attracted to you? Like, romantically?”

“I...I’ve never asked.”

The Doctor smirked. “That’s one big difference, then. I certainly am.”

“Hmm.” Schwarz poured another glass for herself. “Another glass, Doctor?”

“Sure.” He went to grab the bottle, but she still had her hand on it, and they ended up touching as she poured into his glass.

The Doctor pulled his hand back even as she was unfazed. Schwarz set the bottle down and gave him a look. “What is it about me you find attractive?”

“Oh boy, where do I start...” He drained his glass faster than it’d been poured. “Well, let’s be frank - you’re beautiful. I’m sure you’re more than aware of that.”

“...” Dead silence.

The Doctor responded with a disbelieving look. “Surely, someone has told you that by now. Ceylon, the Mayor, some trashy mercenary - I’m not the first person to tell you that your combat outfit leaves very little to the imagination but still leaves me fantasizing, or that your hair shines like silver and your eyes like gold, or that-”

“Doctor.” Schwarz waved her hand to tell him to stop, brightly blushing. “Please.”

“You wanted to know,” he shrugged, grabbing the bottle for himself and pouring another glass.

She sighed. “I didn’t expect you to have so much to say...”

“Have you really not been told?” The Doctor shook his head. “That’s a real shame. Besides, I didn’t even get to the harder stuff.”

“The harder stuff?”

He smirked, leaning forward. “Your faraway expressions as you fight your demons, the ones that remind me of my own at times despite the attached memories being long lost; your glare, that go-to-hell expression that doesn’t really mean malice so much as a warning to keep your distance, because everyone around you gets hurt and everything around you burns; your naturally stoic face that demands someone spend substantial time by your side to read your true emotions, something I wish I was better at...Sorry, I got lost in your eyes again.”

“Again...” Schwarz truly couldn’t believe him. “Is that why you lose your train of thought when talking to me?”

“They strike me to my core, as if they’re baring my entire soul to you...even though they clearly aren’t if you didn’t know all of this already.”

She crossed her arms and set them on the table, resting her chin on them to stare at the now-empty bottle with her ‘stoic face.’ “We’re out of alcohol.”

“I can get us more,” he shrugged. “Unless that was simply an observation?”

“...We’ve probably had enough by now.”

The Doctor nodded. “Much more and I won’t be able to work tomorrow. Can I tell you something else?”

“While we’re on the subject.”

“I’m really trying to not bring up every little thing, I promise,” he blushed. “It’s just...there’s so much about you to love.”

That seemed to be the final straw. “So much to love? Doctor, I am a shell of a person after the life I’ve led; I am a monster, bound to the shadows of the battlefield where I can mete out a life as a professional killer, a bodyguard and contract assassin who found her way to RI because of the person who freed me from my worst servitude in exchange for a lighter-than-deserved sentence. What is there to love about a person-shaped dark patch, hmm?”

“...Do you really think you’re the only monster here?”

“They’re children,” she retorted. “Children, misguided idealists, people with hope and life in their eyes-”

The Doctor’s voice picked up volume. “-Veterans.”

“...Excuse me?”

“Veterans,” he repeated. “Child soldiers, experiments in Originum compatibility gone wrong, revolutionaries, outcasts, vagabonds, warriors who should have been able to put down their swords long before now. There are Operators who have been abused, brainwashed, cut apart and sown back together, betrayed, bought and sold, cast out from their homes, stabbed, backstabbed - and that doesn’t just go for the Infected, like you and me.”

Schwarz had long since fallen silent. “Like you or me?”

“That’s right; at some point, I joined the Infected myself. If all the stories are to be believed, I’ve been a scholar, a tactician, but first and foremost a warlord cruel and unrelenting. I’ve led criminal enterprises, genocides, mass exterminations, and utterly despicable acts of sabotage and treachery in the name of some master I’ve long since forgotten my attachment to. It took losing my memory to start over, but you know what else it did? It left me a shell of a person as well, always minding my manners to not offend someone whose back has had my dagger in it once or a thousand times before, always looking for new tidbits about my past self so I can avoid being the disaster of a man I used to be, always wondering if the Operator I’m hiring on has suffered either at my hand or because of something I did in my past life. Reincarnation like this doesn’t mean my past is forgotten...it simply means I’ve forgotten it. Many of us, including yourself, don’t get that luxury...or that curse.”

“I’d...” She stared at him. “I’d never thought of it that way before.”

The Doctor sighed, standing up and donning his jacket. “I’ll walk you back to Ceylon’s.”

“I can’t let you do that; what if something happens to you on the way back?”

“I’ll say the same right back to you,” he retorted. “You know how I feel; imagine how terrible I will if you get hurt because I got you this deep into the bottles.”

Schwarz sighed. “I guess we’re spending the night together, then.”

“I guess we- what.”

“I can’t let you out of my sight,” she continued, “and you don’t want me out of yours for several reasons, so we’ll just have to spend the night together. I’m assuming your place, because Ceylon might learn something about you it’d be best for her not to figure out.”

The Doctor simply could not process this information properly. “Right, right...my room, then.”

“Let’s be on our way, then. Here - we should help each other stay on our feet.” Schwarz put an arm around his shoulder and pulled his arm around hers, and then they were off. It took some time, thanks to the staggering they were doing, but they made it to his room in one piece.

“Not that I’m ungrateful,” he managed, “but um...what’s happening tonight?”

She blinked, slowly. “You and me, sharing a room.”

“Right.” The Doctor shrugged it off, opening the door.

“Nice place.” Schwarz strolled in, a little shaky but still mostly in control. She collapsed onto his bed. “So.”

Still in the doorway, he steadied himself on the frame. “If you want the bed-”

“I want you in the bed with me.”

“Oh.” The Doctor stumbled forward, turning a fall into a tumble and standing afterwards. “Alright, then.” He shed his shoes and coat (which she had done while watching his display) and joined her.

For a few moments, nothing happened; eventually, she put a hand on his chest and gave him a probing stare. “Well?”

“...I dunno what I’m doing. One thing to dream about it, another-”

“I thought I was hopeless.” Schwarz’s statement wasn’t really a response to him. “I love Ceylon like a sister. Tonight, I want to know if I can love you like a woman.”

He collected himself - which took a moment. “Well, let’s give this a shot, then...”

He told himself he’d stop at a kiss; he was drunk, she was drunk, no guarantee if they’d remember any of what happened tonight afterwards. He told himself that would be enough, regardless of how much he wanted more. Take it slow, take it slow, take it-

Their lips met, and suddenly, the world was moving a thousand miles a minute.

[thecardsimagine]

Julian x Reader college AU

a/n: Yes! I finished the second giveaway price! Thank you @bazzpop for the idea, I hope you like it! Had some struggles with more specific things (we don’t really have these concepts of colleges here in Germany) but I asked around and I hope I got it right! Just for some clarification, I wanted to portrait Julian as a medical science student for infection, immunity, and inflammation, I just didn’t find a place to specify it more lol

Genre: AU, Fluff Rating: Teen ______________________________________

In college, everyone has that little bit of stereotype they fall under. But Julian is a bit of a wild presence on the campus, respectfully called the campus cryptic from time to time. He's the person people will talk about as if they knew him for years when in reality, they don't even know his last name. "Oh, that's so like Julian."/"I saw Julian today. He still owes me ten bucks."/"Oh, you know. Julian. Everyone knows Julian." are common things said between the students. And it's true - everyone knows him and greets him when they see him walking from one building to another, smiling back curtly, sometimes waving in response. But then again, people have very wild guesses about what he's actually doing. Is he a student? Is he an assistant teacher? Is he one of the professors? No one knows, and no one asks him either

In reality, Julian is the most chill medical science student you have ever seen. Especially for someone studying such a hard field, no one could ever expect the pressure or the amount of work he puts into his studies, behind his brilliant smile and inviting aura. He'll always have an open ear to talk to, or a shoulder to cry on for no matter who. A good joke for someone that needs some cheering up and a laugh for people that need some confirmation in their life. Just from giving advice he keeps away, not even trusting himself to be an all-knowing presence. He much rather sends people to his person of trust who just so happens to be roaming the campus too, knowing that Mazelinka is way better in that - though maybe a little unconventional in her methods of problem-solving

One day, you can find him in the library, head deep in books and notes that are so unreadable, you don't even dare to ask him about his phone number. The next time you see him is outside on a bench, feeding crows. Whenever you sit down next to him, he will tell you about the birds, pointing out that there's this one called Malek - who, in response, will caw. He's his favorite crow, and he can pick him up too, which he will gladly demonstrate and assist you in holding up Malek too if you are up to that. You can't help but admire the soft spot he has for this bird, even though you often hear Julian curse Malek's name for multiple reasons. But, at least, Julian seems to be really relaxed when he gets to feed the crows

Passing by his place, you are always more than welcome to knock on his door, especially if you like coffee. Because Julian has plenty, plenty of coffee. Always freshly brewed and if you are not there in time, gone in about an hour. When you point out that his coffee consumption is way too high, especially for someone studying about medical conditions, he will laugh sadly before loudly slurping on his cup. That aside, he is very willing to put his studies aside for a while to have a cup with you. He'll be open for any conversation topic you feel comfortable sharing with him, as well as ready to answer most questions about himself too

Admittedly, Julian is a little outdated especially in his clothes, but he barely cares for appearance - never taking himself too seriously anyway - and he has no one to fear really, aside from a few douches who randomly started picking fights with him before. He has an old mobile phone but loves texting you back and forth, especially at night when he can't sleep - as in, most nights. He uses old-timey emoticons like: :) / :D / xD / and his favorite :*

Additionally, the longer you stay awake, the more emotional the conversations will become, to the point where you wonder if he just managed to hide details of his life and feelings in very dramatic and voluminous texts about an unrelated topic, or if you are just imagining things because you are so incredibly tired. He's always the one to tell you to go to bed once he notices the time, leaving you to wonder if he will sleep too. You can't help and anticipate the coming night though, where you two will be able to share your thoughts again

If there's a party, he's there. Sometimes Julian is the main attraction on it, sometimes you will find him with some alcohol in his cup - he doesn't even remember what it was - in a corner, philosophizing with some of the other students that are already piss drunk. He claims it's quality, unfiltered opinions and he appreciates that. If you don't mind the conversation, you are more than welcome to have a seat, and Julian is sure to always listen to your point of view and think about it before agreeing or discussing it. On the other hand, hopefully you like dancing because if it's one of those nights and he spots you, oh boy, your feet will hurt the next day. But you won't have laughed like on these nights every before, and it will help you take your mind off of things for a while

There is one bad habit he might actually pull you into, that is sneaking into classes. See, Julian has an immeasurable passion for pirates, and if he finds out there's a history class about the topic, he will go there. It's quite fun, though admittedly, depending on the college you two attend, could get you in some trouble. But it's worth it when you can see him so passionately taking notes about what the professor is teaching, smiling from ear to ear and eyes shining at every new fact he learns. Julian always makes sure to not get too enthralled though, asking if you are okay from time to time, hoping you don't find the lecture or his interest boring

Most people view him as a bit too leisurely and wonder how he even managed to get into medicine. But what he doesn't actually show to most people is just how much he studies. All you ever find around him are notes and books, his room is a sorted mess, and he points out medical conditions before you can address them. Julian actually makes a point out of not telling people about his studies, claiming it would make him uncool. Though in reality, he just doesn't want to bother people with topics that he might think are interesting but could be boring to some. He is even reluctant to tell you after all the time that you two knew each other when he found out a really cool, medical fact. He will give you the dreamy eyes if you allow him to tell you and you actually find it interesting, blushing lightly and feeling only adoration for you

He also worries - a lot. Mostly about you. Did you eat anything since exams started? Did you take that cold medicine he advised or do you sniffle from allergies now? Are you drinking energy drinks again? Heaven forbid, he's not going to judge you, but you can get the subtle hint that he'd like you to sleep at night in every one of his messages when it gets darker. He once texted you to look out of the window of your room, only to find him standing outside and telling you, you should go to sleep. Really, he was just passing by and saw your lights on, but it's 11 p.m., and he knows you have exams the next morning. Don't think he wouldn't climb up to your window and put you into bed if you dare him

Julian knows the absolute best spots there are. If you are serious about being his friend or getting even closer than that, he will make sure you have a good time with him. He will take you to the building-roofs when the stars twinkle cloud-free, into the labs to show you some cool researches he heard about, to the less known bars that serve delicious cocktails, and also the handful of hotspots where you can get a real meal even after midnight. It makes the college life a little easier to have him by your side and who knows, you might just make his so much better too

[anniebibananie]

gendrya "im positive there's an evil ghost living in my apartment but i am too proud to admit that i'm scared and hey for totally unrelated reasons will you please stay the night" au

Gendry leaned back into the couch, hands over his stomach as he groaned at the amount of pizza he’d just consumed. Arya had invited him over with the promise of it—both his favorite kind and she had bought it without complaint. Now that he thought about it, there was something off about that. 

“Hey,” he called to her as she grabbed a beer from the fridge in the other room. She appeared in the doorway, tossing one to him despite the fact that it was a glass bottle and dangerous. Good thing he could catch. “Why’d you lure me over to your apartment?” 

She took an innocent sip of her beer. Perhaps too innocent in Gendry’s opinion. “What do you mean?” 

“When was the last time you didn’t fight me to go exactly 50/50 for the pizza? Or complain about how much of your beer I drink so I should have to cover the food?” 

“I’m being nice, Gendry,” Arya said with a shrug as she came back to the couch and quite literally fell into it. How she didn’t spill her drink as she did so he had no idea. “It’s not that out of character for me.” 

Except it sort of was, though he meant it in the kindest way possible. Arya was sharp and funny. She’d fight to protect the ones she loved, and she could at times be goofy as all hell, and a lot of other things that were absolutely wonderful because they were her. Nice, though? Outright without complaint? Nah, not really. 

He kicked her calf with his foot, arching a brow as she looked over at him. “Out with it.” 

She shrugged, back up on her feet again as she grabbed the plates to put in the sink. He picked up the empty pizza box and followed. If she was cleaning the apartment willingly, she truly must be ignoring something. 

“I thought we could do a sleepover, you know? Movie marathon or something. It’s been a bit.” The dishes clashed against the sink as she dropped them in. 

Gendry stood beside her, and when she turned around he was struck by how close she was. In her oversized rugby jersey and athletic shorts, hair in two dual plaits, she looked casual and beautiful. She always looked beautiful. It was sort of a problem for him. 

“Arya,” he said, a little softer than before. It was fun teasing her, but he was worried there was something genuinely up, and he only liked to play with her to a point. If she needed him actually, he needed her to know she always had him. 

She leveled her gaze at him, jaw tilted up in a way that said I dare you to test me. “I think we should run a ghost hunt in my bedroom.” 

His brow scrunched together. “Is that… a euphemism?” 

She paused, rolled her eyes, and turned away from him to go down the hall. “Oh my god.” 

“Hey!” he called as he followed her. 

She was in her bedroom, and when he entered behind her she pointed to the corner by the window on the opposite side. “There,” she said. “Around midnight every night there’s this… clacking and then a like woosh and I’m pretty sure it’s a vengeful spirit.” 

“Vengeful?” 

She nodded. “Don’t you remember my upstairs neighbor? The angry old dude with the cockatoo?” 

“Yeah, he always scoffed when he’d pass me in your lobby for no reason. Real weird eyebrows.” 

“He died right upstairs all alone,” she said as she pursed her lips, determined. “I think he’s haunting me because of the one time I had a party and kept him up.”

“Arya….” He tilted his head to the side, trying not to belittle her. She kept her jaw tight. “Okay,” he said as he sat down on her bed. “Let’s watch a movie until midnight.” 

The side of her lips twitched, but she kept her mouth even. “Okay.” 

__

The timer on his phone blared through the room, and he watched as Arya snapped her hand to the space bar of her laptop so they could pause. She sat up in her bed, the jersey scrunching up higher on her thighs. He’d never noticed the oblong mole on her left leg, and he could have stared at the shape of it forever, but Arya was clearing her throat and he looked up to meet her gaze guiltily. 

She widened her eyes. “Listen,” she said. 

For a minute there was nothing but silence and the two of them watching the corner of the room with an intensity that sort of made Gendry feel like a crazy person. Then there actually was a clacking. 

“See!” she said, jolting in the bed a little and reaching to her side to slap his arm excitedly. She froze, the joy replaced by what he assumed to be fear. 

Gendry wouldn’t say he’s smart, okay? He was aware of his talents, and it wasn’t necessarily one of them, but he was pretty sure he knew there were no such thing as ghosts. He stood up and tried to locate the sound, and it was coming from the walls but it was also coming from outside. 

He opened up her window and leaned out over the ledge. When he pulled his body back in, he turned to Arya and nodded solemnly. “I have news.” 

“Is it that cranky upstairs neighbor’s non-corporeal form is outside that window, and he’s probably going to murder me?” 

“Tis not,” he replied. “In fact, you do not have a ghost.” 

The clacking sound stopped as he finished the phrase, and her eyes widened. “The ghost didn’t like that.” 

“Arya,” he released with a chuckle. “It’s a loose wire on the side of the building.” 

Her eyebrows scrunched together comically. “No.” She hopped up and slid her body through the half-open window, going so far Gendry got sort of worried and grabbed onto her waist to keep her from completely falling over the edge. “Okay, but why does it go only at midnight?” she asked as she came back into the room. She crossed her arms. “How do you explain that?” 

“The train,” he said. “The freight train, only goes by middle of the day while you’re at work and midnight. Probably shakes the building” 

For a second, she paused. Then her arms fell to the side, and she released a sigh. “I mean, I guess that’s a good thing.” She bit her bottom lip, and his eyes caught on it for too long, but she didn’t seem to notice. Or maybe she just didn’t care. “Can you still stay over?” 

“‘Cause you’re scared?” he asked, not believing the words. 

She rolled her eyes. “Because I want you to.” 

Gendry couldn’t help the ridiculous smile that took over his face, but when she smiled back at him he wasn’t too worried it was a problem. “Sure.” 

“Sweet,” she said as she kicked off her shorts and jumped back into bed. 

He did not freak out about a quarter-naked Arya. 

She raised a brow in challenge, waiting for him to get on his half of the bed. “So… are we going to run a ghost hunt now?” She waggled her brows at him. “I mean it as a euphemism this time.” 

“I honestly don’t know what it could mean as a euphemism.” He tossed off his sweats, though, and slid into bed next to her. 

“What if I show you?” she asked, only the barest touches of joking left in her voice. 

“Okay,” he replied, keeping his cool as best as he could, but really not at all. He was pretty sure Arya Stark was propositioning him after he had proven there wasn’t a ghost haunting her bedroom, and it was so weird as in their lives were so weird and he loved her so much. 

So, he dipped forward and kissed her, and she kissed him back. The only thing he would be haunted by was the taste of her lips and the smell of her hair for the rest of his life… no big deal. He was oddly okay with that.