#oomf was talking about him having them and i couldn’t resist

[mxmarsbars]

gives him freckles and dimples

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

hello 🩷recently found and loved your account so i’m here to ask from you!!

criminal minds SSA aaron hotchner x reader

i’d love any explicit smut 😋

ideal trope(s) would be jealousy, established but secret relationship due to workplace like the whole thing stems from AH being jealous af that you’re getting hit on or smth and he can’t do shy about it in public but oh when ur home.. 👀👀👀

hahaha sorry the brain rot is real

thank you if you do this!!

and i hope u never stop writing i’ve been reading ur other posts too i love them sm

༉‧₊˚. 𝐚 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 || 𝐚𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫

— pairing: aaron hotchner x plus size!reader

— summary: your new relationship brings out a side of aaron that he had never seen before.

— warnings: established relationship, jealousy (obvi), unprotected sex, rough sex, teasing, couch sex, aaron lowkey bends you like a pretzel, heavy praise, he taps you on the cheek (lovingly ofc), implied creampie, consent king aaron!!, slightly insecure aaron, implied age gap but not specified, body massages and an implied size kink!

— wc: 2018

⋆ a/n: WOW a long smut fic, who would have thought? anywho, i'm trying to break free from posting headcanons because i just know they'll overtake this account. thank you for this request!

masterlist | AO3

Aaron felt his eye twitch. 

His eye never twitches.

The culprit? The maintenance man that won’t stop talking to you. 

He had so much paperwork he needed to complete, the stack of it had begun to tower, but Aaron couldn’t manage to get himself to focus on anything else but you. 

Your relationship was fairly new, so you both had just agreed to keep it low-key for now. It wasn’t like you guys were lying, how could you when you were constantly surrounded by nosy profilers? 

With new relationships came new feelings, and one of them he hadn’t felt since he was a young man somehow managed to resurface right under his nose: jealousy.

Yes, he had his moments of jealousy when he had first gotten with Hailey, but this? This was different. The age gap between the two of you wasn’t that large, but it was considerable enough that when he saw men closer to your age creeping around you, it always put him in a foul mood.

Like right now he just wants to storm down there and kiss you right in front of that stupid kid. The urge was primal and unfamiliar, and quite frankly it drove him insane.

Aaron was sure you hadn’t meant to come off as flirtatious, and who were your colleagues to step in if you looked genuinely interested in the guy? For all they knew you were single.

Oh, yeah, this was going to drive him over the edge, and it was all your fault.

It was safe to say you were excited when Aaron had decided to call it an early night, you just hadn’t expected him to jump on you as soon as you breached the threshold of your home.

He didn’t give you time to think or even put your things down, his briefcase followed along by your purse collapsed to the floor with a surprisingly loud thud!

Your lungs burned and your face was hot, heated between the two furnaces that were Aaron’s large and work-worn hands. You desperately clung onto the sleeves of his suit jacket, the material twisting between your fingers to keep yourself sturdy as he walked backwards.

“A- Aaron wha - what’s going on?” You pleaded breathlessly. You had to slightly shove the man away even though you were met with his uncharacteristic resistance. He just stood there and stared at you like a wild man, pupils dilated and chest rising and falling with every hastened breath he took.

He shook his head and blinked, like his thoughts were escaping him. Aaron couldn’t think when you looked at him like that; your lips kiss swollen with a light sheen of spit, your blouse covered breasts grazing his firm chest.

“You’re going to be the death of me.” Was all he could say before reconnecting your lips. 

He continues to walk backwards before the back of his calves meet the couch. He allows himself to drop down with a slight oomf, his needy hands tugging on yours encouragingly until you clambered onto his lap.

He didn’t give you time to show him any hesitancy, his palms gripping your hips firmly and all but holding you down against him. You gasped at the feeling, your fingers scratching at the shaved hairs on the back of his neck. 

“Aaron! What has gotten into you?” The question was a flustered giggle. Aaron’s eyes casted to the side in a rare show of nervousness. 

“It’s ridiculous.” He mutters. “I can bet you a million dollars that whatever you’re going to say isn’t as silly as you think it is.”

“It was that guy. The one that wouldn’t stop talking to you.” It took you a moment to think back on it before you finally understood what he meant. “The maintenance man? What about him?”

“He was flirting with you, and - I don’t know, it made me feel things I haven’t in a long time.”

Saying the actual word jealousy seemed so juvenile to Aaron; he was a grown ass man with a grown ass man job, so what right did he have to be acting like this?

“Oh.” It was long and drawn out. You felt a smirk begin to form on your face and you gently coaxed his eyes to meet yours. Aaron’s gaze was unsure. 

“You know I’m yours, right? I don’t want anyone else that isn’t you, no matter how young, rich or tall.” Your hips begin to grind down on his and Aaron chokes back a groan. His grip on your flesh gets stronger and it draws a whimper out of you.

“Yeah?” He asks sensually, his voice a low purr. He aids in your grinding and your head grows fuzzy. “Yeah.”

He’s quick to reposition the both of you, your back now resting on the couch cushions. He kisses down your neck, nipping lightly at the skin there. It sends a shiver down your spine and your lower half canting up, desperately searching for friction. 

Your hot cunt meets his knee. “Ah! Aaron.” You whined, fingers digging into his shoulders. Your boyfriend has one foot on the ground and the other wedged between your legs.

Aaron rises from your chest for a moment, shoving off his suit jacket and working the buttons on his shirt. You take it upon yourself to take your blouse off, arms reaching behind you to unclasp your bra with learned precision. 

His eyes fall on your breasts and you could have sworn his movements gained a bit of franticness.

“Like what you see?” You couldn’t help but tease, your hands now working to shimmy your pencil skirt down your thighs. “Very much.” Aaron agrees with a lazy half smile. “Here, let me help.” You lift your hips up and he takes both your panties and skirt off at the same time.

The casual show of strength made your stomach clench, and you all but snatched Aaron by the back of his neck back down to your level. A noise of surprise escapes him and you take it as a chance to slip your tongue in his mouth.

Your body begins to heat up, his taking grabs and grips driving you insane.

“Fuck me.” You heave. Aaron pulls away from you, “Are you sure? You aren’t prepared well yet, and I don’t want to hurt you.” You smile softly. “As much as I appreciate your concern about me, I’ll let you know if there’s any discomfort, okay?”

Aaron thinks on your words for a moment, mulling them about in his brain before relenting at the feeling of your sweet, tempting hands stroking his bare chest.

“You always have to keep me on my toes, don’t you?” 

“That was in the agreement.” You bite playfully. He snorts and rolls his eyes, but sits up once more to unbutton his pants. 

With what feels like forever, he’s finally bare for your hungry eyes and clambering on top of you.

Resuming his old position, he wraps your legs around his waist, the tip of his cock poking at your slit. The two of you shiver at the feeling.

“Are you sure about this, sweetheart? You know I don’t mind eating you out; I’m in no rush.” Your cheeks turn warm at his crudeness. “I’m sure, baby. I need you. Now.” With one final search of your face, he begins to push forward.

Your breath catches in your throat and you hold on to his muscular biceps. Your eyes flutter shut at the full feeling of him, your legs trembling and stomach tightening. 

The first initial stretch hurts of course, but with a minute of laying there adjusting to Aaron’s size as he delivers very stimulating circles on your clit to distract you from the discomfort, you find yourself loosening up.

“Move.” You grunted quietly. 

Aaron’s jaw is set tight, the vein in his forehead slightly bulging when he proceeds to thrust experimentally. Your lips roll in between your teeth to hold back the whorish moan that threatens to practically barrel out of you. 

He does it again, and again, and again, until all of his self control is thrown out the window and the only thing he can think of is you; of how tight you are around him.

“It feels so good, baby. So, so good…” You babble, your hands reaching up to grip the armrest of the couch for more leverage. “I know honey, I know. ‘M gonna get deeper, okay?” Aaron groans. You nod wildly, a bead of sweat dripping down the side of your face.

He steadies himself on the knee placed on the couch, lifting your legs up so either one sits on his big, broad shoulders. 

The change in position caused your back to arch, your mouth dropping open into an ‘o’ shape as you struggled to keep your head on straight.“Mphm! You’re so - you’re so deep.” You cried out, tears brimming on your eyelashes. “I know I am, baby. But you can take it right?”

“Mhm! I can! I know I can!” 

“You can take it because you’re mine right? Because you’re my good girl?” 

His praise pushes you dangerously close to the edge, and you’re honestly convinced that the crescent shape of your nails will leave an imprint on the material forever. The couch cushions stick to your skin like glue, the so of skin hitting skin resounded throughout the room lewdly.

A hand lightly slapped your face, your cheeks squeezed between his fingers, puckering slightly.

“I asked you a question, didn't I sweetheart?”

“You did, you did! ‘M sorry. ‘M your good girl, please.”

What you were begging for, you didn’t know; was it mercy? Was it a desperate call for your sanity? Whatever it was could wait, because you were going to cum.

“Gah! God, Aaron, ‘m gonna cum! Help me cum, please.” You begged again. “I got you honey.”

Aaron’s hand slithered down your body before landing on your clit, a calloused thumb drawing it around in firm circles. Your body moved and convulsed violently, your moans growing in volume – you’re sure you’re going to receive a noise complaint in the mail later.

That coil in your stomach threatened to snap, and all you could think to say was, “Cum with me?” 

To be frank, Aaron was ready to cum a few thrusts before, but he was always one to prolong his pleasure if that meant satisfying you.

“Of - of course.” He stuttered, his dominance slowly slipping away from him.

Aaron bent forward just a little more to test how far he could push you, and though you were sure your muscles were going to ache when everything died down, but God, this was so, so worth it.

“F- fuck!” You swore as you came.

Everything disappeared for a moment besides the sound of Aaron’s guttural groan that sounded more like a loud, long-drawn-out whimper than anything when he came too.

You were slowly brought back to reality by Aaron massaging your sore muscles, gently twisting them and rubbing out any potential knots that threatened to form. You knew he'd disappear in a minute to grab something to wipe you down with, but you couldn’t seem to find it within your post orgasmic bliss to care.

“Mm, that’s nice.” You rasped, your eyelids fluttering open to face your disheveled boyfriend. His hair was all out of place in the best way possible, his bare body shining in a clear sheen of sweat. If you weren’t so tired, you think you’d jump straight to a round two.

“I’m sure,” Aaron’s voice was just as hoarse as yours. “I think I pushed your body a bit too far.”

“Don’t get started, Aaron.” You chided lightly. “It was perfect, okay? You were perfect. Now get up here.” 

You dragged him from where he was and laid his body on top of yours.

“Down.” You demanded playfully. “I’m heavy, honey.”

“Don’t care.” You exaggerated the ‘don’t’ and pulled the rest of him down.

“I want to lay like this for a minute.”

“Alright,” Aaron nodded to himself. “I can do a minute.”

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @celtic-crossbow @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @alixwriter @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus @khxna

[theydontknowaboutusimagines]

Valentine’s Day Surprise - Harry Styles Mini Series (Part 5)

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4 

**

It was the morning of Valentine’s Day and sunlight made it’s way through the curtains and into the bedroom. Arms were wrapped around you and you could feel content breathing against your neck. You smiled realizing where you were and knowing it wasn’t a dream. You gently and as quietly as you can turn around so you’re facing your boyfriend. 

He was still sleeping so you contemplated on your next move. You didn’t know if you rather lay next to him and enjoy a lazy morning or go into the kitchen and make a special breakfast. You ended up deciding on the best of both worlds, staying there for a few more minutes before going downstairs. 

“Whatever you’re doing, stop,” Harry mumbled. 

“Excuse me?” You giggled, looking down at him. 

“You’re overthinking something,” he said, pulling you closer to him. 

“How do you know that?” You laughed. 

“Because I just do,” he said. “Now, what are you thinking about?” 

“Nothing huge,” you said. “Just whether I should stay here or go cook up some breakfast.” 

“Here, definitely stay here,” he smirked. 

“Why? You were sleeping, plus you still have your eyes closed,” you said. “I know I look a hot mess in the mornings, but I didn’t think it was that bad.” 

“You don’t,” he said. “You might smell a bit, but you look beautiful.”

“Fuck you,” you groaned hitting with a pillow. 

“Heeey!” He whined. 

“What?” You said innocently. 

“Oh it’s on now,” he smirked, tickling your sides. 

“Harry! Stop!” You whined trying to move out of his reach. 

“You started it,” he pointed out. 

“You told me I smelled,” you pointed out. 

“Well... I mean,” he shrugged. 

Rolling your eyes, you decked him with a another pillow. 

“Oomf,” he groaned. 

You giggled jumping up out of the bed and running out of the room. 

“So, that’s how it’s going to be huh?” He laughed chasing after you. 

You let out a screech as you run through the house, but low and behold you he wraps his arms around you, tickling your sides. 

“Why are you naked?” You laughed. 

“I believe the real question is why aren’t you naked,” he smirked kissing your cheek. 

“Because I get cold,” you answered. “Duh.” 

“I’ll keep you warm,” he whispered against your neck. 

"Oh, is that right?” You asked. 

“I’ll be more than happy to show you,” he said. 

“Lead the way,” you smirked. 

**

A few hours later, you and Harry were sitting out in the backyard enjoying your Valentine’s Day brunch. Yes, it involved the cheesy heart shaped pancakes, or at least the attempt at them. There was a ton of fruit and your other favorites. Harry made mimosa’s that you two sipped on well after you finished eating. 

There was a swing out in backyard the two of you were cuddled up. His hand ran up and down your legs as you laid your head on his shoulder. He smiled kissing your head. 

“You know, it’s strange to think this time last year, we hadn’t even spoken to one another in years and now here are together,” you said. “I can’t believe how much as changed for us in the last few months.” 

“I know,” he smiled. “I wish I would have reached out to you sooner. Then we could have had more moments like this.” 

“Yeah, but now this just means we get to make up for lost time,” you smiled. “Oh, wait. Your presents.” 

Before Harry could protest, you had already gotten up to head inside. Harry followed you and was surprised to see you standing there with a red and pink gift bag. 

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” he said. 

You rolled your eyes, “We’ve always gotten each other Valentines. Well.. except during the time we weren't really talking... but that doesn't count,” you said. 

He laughed taking the bag from you and opening it up. First he took out the teddy bear and he quickly laughed, wrapping his arms around you. 

“I love this,” he laughed. “Where did you find it?” 

“A shop round my house,” you giggled. “I couldn’t resist when I saw it.” 

“Thank you,” he smiled kissing your head.

“There’s more,” you said. 

He took out his favorite candies and the tiny bag holding the bracelets you had gotten. He put the other items down as he opened up the drawstring bag to reveal the beaded bracelets. He smiled when he noticed your and his first initial with a + sign in between. 

“I added that little touch,” you smiled. “We have matching ones... just like when we were younger.” 

“I love you,” he smiled pressing a kiss to your lips. 

“I love you, too,” you smiled widely. 

**

After spending the rest of the day in bed, watching movies, and just spending sometime together. It was time for Harry’s plan to be activated. You got out of the shower to a large box waiting for you on the bed. Harry was getting ready in the guest room and let you get ready in his room. You walked over and saw a note on the box. 

“Just a little something I thought you might like. Feel free to wear it tonight. Love, H.” 

You smiled opening the box and saw the most beautiful dress if you have seen at least in person. It was a little different than what you normally purchase for yourself, but you were looking forward to putting it on. You laid it out on the bed and of course, you needed shoes to pair it with. You did bring a few pairs of shoes, so hopefully you had a pair that looked okay with the dress. 

But before you worried about that, you went back into the bathroom to finish up your hair and makeup. Working from home, you hardly ever put on makeup and even if you did, it was only a little bit. But you really did like the moments you could go all out with your hair and makeup. 

Once you were done with that, you walked over to your suitcase taking out the shoes you had brought with you. Luckily, you had one pair that looked decent enough with the dress. You slipped the dress on and it surprisingly it fit perfectly, you were always nervous about getting clothes from other people because women’s clothing always fits differently based on brand and style from some reason, so it can be pain. 

Anyway, you waited until you had the shoes on before looking at yourself in the mirror. Your lips turned into this wide smile because you felt absolutely beautiful. Not that you didn’t think you weren’t beautiful before, but this was one of those moments where you saw yourself as a different type of beautiful. 

“Y/N, I’m heading down to make sure the driver’s on his way, you almost ready?” he asked. 

“Yeah, I’ll be down in a bit,” you smiled. 

You waited until you heard his footsteps leave and walk down the stairs before you opened the door to follow him. He was on the phone with his back turned to you as you made your way down. Before you got to the bottom, you cleared your throat. 

He turned around, phone still at his ear and his eyes went wide. He quickly ended the call and walked towards you. 

“You look... wow,” he whispered. 

“Good wow or bad wow?” you laughed. 

“Both,” he laughed. 

You cocked your head to the side, “What?” 

“Good because you look amazing, bad because you look amazing and I don’t exactly want to leave the house,” he laughed taking your hand as you walk down the stairs. 

“Did we just have a Titanic moment?” You giggled. 

“A small one,” he laughed. “Care to reenact the drawing and car scene later?” 

“Oh, I already plans for later,” you smirked. 

“Do you now?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Yep,” you said. “Now, let’s go before we’re late.” 

“Why did I make reservations again?” He groaned. 

“Because you love me and want to take me out to a big fancy dinner,” you smirked. 

“Right, right,” he laughed. “The driver’s here anyway.” 

“No getting drunk,” you said. 

“I don’t get drunk,” he scoffed. 

“I’m sure one phone call to Jeff can debunk that statement of yours,” you added. 

“You’re one to talk about getting drunk,” he said. 

“That was one time! and it was your fault, might I add,” you said. 

“How was I supposed to know they were my Mum’s wine coolers and not juice,” he said. 

“We were fifteen,” you said. 

“I was naive,” he said. 

“And the lie detector determine that was lie,” you joked. 

“Oh whatever! You were the one who kept drinking them, even after we figured it out,” he said. 

“They were refreshing, okay,” you said. 

He laughed kissing your head as the two of you got inside the car. 

**

The restaurant was located on a hill overlooking the ocean. You were worried about it being packed with other couples for the holiday, but surprisingly it wasn't too bad. Harry placed his hand on your lower back as the two of you followed the hostess to your table. It was in the very back of the restaurant, in the corner facing the window with an ocean view. 

“Wow, this place it gorgeous,” you smiled. 

“And the food is good, too,” he said. “Definitely worth it.” 

“How expensive are we talking?” You winced. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he said. 

You give him a look, but he grabbed your hand, “Don’t worry about it.” 

“Okay, okay,” you said, squeezing his hand. 

After a few minutes, you both order and sip on your drinks. 

“Oh, I forgot to thank you for the dress,” you smiled. “I love it.” 

“You’re welcome,” he smiled. 

“I feel bad now though. You did all this and I only got you a teddy bear and cheesy bracelets,” you said. 

“Don’t be,” he said. “The dress was just something extra. And I love my gifts.” 

When you were finished with your meal, you and Harry decided to take a walk on the beach while you waited for your driver to pick you up. Harry carried your shoes in one hand and held your hand with his other one. You smiled wrapping his arm around your shoulder. 

“It’s so beautiful here,” you said. “Even at night.” 

“Yeah, it is,” he nodded. “But it’s not home.”

“Yeah, I get what you mean,” you smiled. 

“Speaking of home,” he said. “I have something I want to ask you.” 

“Oh boy, what it is?” You asked. 

“Well, I started thinking... about us,” he said. 

“And?” You asked. 

“Would you... would you maybe want to uh... move in together when I go back home?” He asked. 

“Really?” You asked. “You don’t think that’s too soon for us?” 

“We’ve known each other our whole lives... I know we’ve only been in a relationship for a few months, but I love you and you love me. I’m ready for this, if you are. You don’t have to give me an answer right now-” he said. 

You wrapped your arms around him and pressed your lips against his. “My answer is yes,” you whispered. “It’s always going to be yes with you.” 

He smiled widely pressing his lips against yours again as the waves crashed at your feet. 

**

You weren’t sure if it was the drinks at dinner finally kicking in or the thought of moving in together, but as soon as you and Harry were back at the house you were practically attached at the hip. Your arms were wrapped around him as he walked you back through the house and he kicked the door shut. 

“Hm, bedroom?” you mumbled against his lips. 

“Eventually, but I’ve got one more surprise for you,” he said. 

“Ugh, fine,” you groaned removing yourself from him. 

He kissed your pouted lips before putting his hands over your eyes, “No peeking,” he said. 

“Remember, you just asked to move in together, surely you’re not wanting to kill me already,” you joked. 

“Eh, not yet,” he smirked. 

Harry helped lead you through the house and out into the backyard. The first thing you noticed was the soft sound of music playing in the background. 

“Okay, open your eyes, love,” he whispered in your ear. 

You weren't sure what you were opening your eyes to, but it was not anything compared to what you saw when you did. Red and white lights were strung along the backyard. Candles and roses were floating inside of the pool. There was a large cabana placed right into of a makeshift projector screen ready to play your favorite movie. There were blankets, snacks, and drinks all set up and ready to be eaten. 

“You did this?” You smiled, looking over at him. 

“I had help,” he smiled. “Do you like it?” 

“I love it,” you smiled. “This is amazing and I can’t believe you this. When did you do this?” 

“My help came while we were at dinner,” he smiled. 

“Wow, I can’t believe you pulled this off,” you said. 

“Hey, not sure if that’s an insult or complement,” he laughed. 

“The latter,” you smiled. “We should probably go change. I don’t think wearing fancy dinner wear is suitable for this level of luxury.” 

Both you and Harry changed, him in a pair of jogger pants and a hoodie, while you put on one of his hoodies over the lingerie you had on underneath your dress. Once changed, you both cuddled up in the blankets while snacking and watching the movie. 

At the halfway mark, your mind had left the movie and was only focusing on your boyfriend who laid next to you. You wrapped your arm around his waist as you cuddled closer to him. You placed your leg on top of his and started kissing his neck. 

“What are you doing?” he laughed. 

“What do you think I’m doing?” You smirked turning to straddle him. 

“Don’t you want to finish the movie?” He asked. 

“I’ve seen it a hundred times. I know how it ends,” you said. 

“Well, when you put it that way,” he shrugged leaning up to kiss you. 

Your fingers found their way to his hair as the two of you kissed. His hands ran up along your legs as he deepened the kiss. Soon, you tugged on his hoodie, signaling him to take it off. He tossed it to the side and you smiled running your hands over his chest and shoulders. 

“Now, off with yours,” he smirked. “It’s only fair.” 

“Go ahead,” you said sitting back a bit. 

His hands quickly found their way to the bottom of the hoodie, pulling it over your head. You counted in your head how long it took for him to realize what you were wearing underneath. You only managed to get to about one and half before he uttered a fuck under his breath. 

“What was that?” you smirked. 

“God, you’re so fucking hot,” he mumbled against your lips. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” you giggled. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, indeed,” he laughed. 

And that remained true for the rest of the night. 

**

THE END! Hopefully you enjoyed it!

Don’t forget to send in any ideas or what you want to see happen for my AU series Sunflower! I hope to have the next part of that updated in the next few days. :)

[chubbyooo]

Blurred Lines : Chapter 5 - The Rancors Jaw

Chapter 5 is here continuing Gacen and Ash’s story

Gacen wakes up with a massive headache and he and Ash make a quick stop on their job 

As Gacen woke up he felt like a drill was drilling into his brain this was almost certainly alcohols fault. He lay there unable to get up for about half an hour, what happened last night? as he began to think memories started coming back to him. Oh god Ash had found him drinking but he’d been so careful ughhhhhh, Gacen slumped out of bed as he remembered he’d agreed to lay off the alcohol oh god he knew what his brain did without it though. Ash seemed pretty serious though so he should probably listen, Gacen made his way to the cockpit to find Ash already up.

“Morning sleepyhead how’s your head?” she said with a definite sarcastic tone 

“well i feel like i’m being shot continuously by a Blaster rifle soo not as bad as i was expecting” he grinned this was a blatant lie it was more like a light saber stuck in his skull but he thought Ash could use some positive news

“alright well you ready to get some lunch we have arrived at Irodonia” Lunch but he’d just woken up that didn’t ma-- he looked at the clock 12:00 ahhmakes sense 

“well it’ll be breakfast for me but sure” he could really do with some food to soak up the alcohol he looked at Ash “youuu need me to land the ship for you?” she still hadn’t really got the nack for landing he didn’t want a repeat of last time she tried to land, so expensive

“no don’t worry i think i got it now” Gacen was worried he was very worried but probably should trust her he had plenty of disposable income anyway

“alright then Ash bring us down” he said leaning back to put his feet of the dashboard. She began bringing the ship down into the small spaceport of Iridonia, Gacen began getting anxious that was a rather small landing pad even he would have trouble with such a thing and he was pilot ace of the galaxy, “youuu sure you got this” Ash didn’t respond clearly fully concentrating on the task at hand, this is fine she has it covered surely Gacen mulled over the possibilities for a while but then suddenly felt a small oomf as they landed

Ash turned to him with a cocky smile “uh yeah i got this” Gacen hadn’t seen her this pleased in a while nice one. He got up and began pacing he was starting to get some nerves, he hadn’t been outside while sober for quite a while, maybe just a quick drink wouldn’t hurt, he began to try to stealthily drink from his flask but quickly found it snatched out his hand damn she was fast

“what did we JUST talk about” Ash looked visibly angry he had to explain

“it was just a little to calm the nerves Ash nothing more” He wasn’t sure if that was true or not now she had confronted him

“i don’t think it was nothing more, the rules are as follows alcohol is only allowed at a bar or social event where i will decide how much you can have” god she wasn’t his mum Gacen wasn’t really on board with the idea of rules

“Ash i didn’t agree to you babysitting me i said i was gonna do it myself” he could do it he was somewhat sure

“you wanted to get better Gacen this is the way, trust me on this i don’t want to have to limit you but i also don’t want to be dealing with the alcoholic binges so it’s these rules or none” she seemed pretty firm about it and as much as Gacen hated to admit it she was right, he had tried to kick it before and failed so her help was probably a good thing.

“alright Ash, sorry we’ll do it your way” Ash seemed genuinely pleased with that

“thanks bud, anyway lets get some grub” she said perking up they made their way out the ship and after all the ship parking preamble was done they were looking for a cantina 

“you know I can probably spot a good cantina here” Gacen said with a cheery smile he was starting to wake up and the fesh air was helping his headache

“uh huh why’s that then you been here before” Ash seemed unimpressed with his street smart knowledge

“well it’s Iridonia home of my distant relatives the less red zabraks” he forgot the name something starting with I

“what so you have a natural instinct” Ash said clearly not taking his powers seriously 

“exactly and by that i know that this cantina the Rancors Jaw will server the best food on the damn planet” Gacen said while pretending to be tapping into some force power

Ash stifled a chuckle heh even she couldn’t resist his wit “Oh really the Rancors Jaw sounds appetizing” her response was dripping with sarcasm

“hey a Rancor can be delicious if cooked right but i do admit the name does just sound like the owner thought of an animal and then a body part and went with the first which sounded good.” Gacens tone wavered a bit the Racor cooking reminded him of home he should refocus don’t wanna head there not right now. “after you” he said with a rather baroque bow at least he thought so

“alright mr showman pack it in we’re in a public place” she said walking into the bar she’s just jealous Gacen thought jokingly as they entered the bar they got the immediate vibe of a sleazy cantina full of lowlifes and criminals “are you sure abou-” Ash began

“It’s PERFECT” Gacen said with a smile as he sauntered over to the bar where a rather large Zabrak stood washing a glass. Music was playing softly in the background sounded like some generic popular music not really Gacens style. Ash joined him at the bar somewhat less impressed. “one pint of your finest beer please” Gacen said with a smile Ash turned to him with a sour look “you said only at bars this is a bar” he said innocently haha beat that logic

“fine but only one” she said she did not seem pleased 

“don’t worry only one, oh sir can we also have some menus” Gacen waved his hand to call him over, the zabrak brought over the menus they looked pretty tacky but Gacen was starving so he didn’t care. He was browsing until he saw they did Grilled Rancor he was so surprised, no one ever did it because it was so hard to make “hey hey Ash Ash have you decided” he said excited

“uh yeah why are you squealing like a child” Ash raised her eyebrows concerned

“they do grilled Rancor” he said maybe he should tone it back a bit he was getting looks

“congratulations that sounds disgusting” Ash said looking unimpressed and turned to the Zabrak “i’ll have a Bantha Burger and i assume you know what he wants” Ash said gesturing to Gacen who had calmed down. The zabrak just gave a nod and passed Gacen his beer finally this was gonna be good, they began to make their way over to a table.

As they were heading over Gacen was about to take a sip and then he felt a tap on his shoulder “Gacen Zandar?” A rather rough looking Houk asked, this guy looked big better say no

“uh no sir you must be mistaken” he said confident his cover was safe.

The Houk began to mess with a holopad “oh really” oh no he has the holonet Gacen was all over that “not this Gacen Zandar” he said holding up a bounty photo of him, oh ok wellll this is bad. A bunch more goons surrounded them, Ash turned to Gacen 

“what did you do?” she said as they were forced back to back 

“i don’t know probably an illegal crime sometime in the past there’s a lot to choose from” Gacen said panicked

“well it looks like we’re gonna have to fight them off” Ash said readying her fists

“god dammit fine” Gacen said lifting the hand not holding his beer

*as the fight began a new song started playing on the jukebox*

https://open.spotify.com/track/6I9VzXrHxO9rA9A5euc8Ak?si=tSGKzIU0QnGHOP9DwMkVEw

Gacen didn’t know how many guys there were but knew he didn’t want to be in the middle of them he slid between the legs of the Houk beer raised as not to spill it. He saw Ash began to fight most of them off they were gonna get schooled but then three began coming for him, he took a quick sip of beer for courage and went to swing at the one closest which made them stagger back before he kneed them in the face knocking them cold to the floor. As he turned the second went for a swipe at his chest he moved his hands in the way blocking some of the blow, but as he did some of his beer was spilt damn gotta keep that out of the firing line. He went for a quick kick to the old voidwolfs knocking the second guy to his knees, he thought a celebratory sip was in order but as he was about to the other goon left clonked him on the head getting beer all down him. He elbowed the third guy in the side forcing him to move back then Gacen grabbed a bottle and threw it at his head with that he was out like a light. Hows the beer situation he thought about half left let’s put it down to avoid further damage to his drink. As he took a breather he pondered where Ash was in that big but admittedly smaller looking mob of goons, Suddenly he saw her and the Houk go flying out of the mob and over the table he just put his beer on, Motherfucker god dammit now he had to get another drink, Ash quickly returned to the mob seeming to hold her own, she’s probably got this Gacen thought. He gave the Houk a quick kick for spilling his drink before hoping over the bar, he began to pour while he watched what he could see of Ash fighting off the rest of the guys. He counted six bodies already on the ground and two more would soon be on the way as she threw a Rodian into a Deveronian knocking them both out in the process. Honestly if he got involved he’d probably get more in the way than anything, the beer was finished and he was really craving a drink when he felt something break over his head knocking him to the ground. FUCKING GOD DAMN BASTARD he thought as his vision clouded he’d almost certainly dropped his drink, as his vision returned he saw the Houk was standing over him with some sort of vibroblade he quickly began to shuffle backwards as the Houk began trying to attack him with the blade way too close t the old voidwolfs. He shuffled back to the end of the bar his balance was still off so he couldn’t stand properly, the Houk began to move forward though it was having trouble with all the glass from the beer cutting at his feet ha bare feet idiot. Gacen saw his chance and quickly unholstered his blaster with a quick one two he shot both of the Houks kneecaps the Houk fell to it’s knees roaring in pain. After a minute of regaining his balance he moved over to the Houk and knocked him out with but of his gun, stupid beer spiller. Gacen carefully made his way over the glass and began pouring as he looked up however he saw a goon flying straight towards him he ducked instinctively he hit the wall with a loud crack Gacen popped his head back up to see the bar empty and Ash standing in the middle of 14 unconscious goons “wow remind me not to get on your bad side” he said as he poured his beer.

Ash gave him a grumpy look “then don’t pour that” what no he never got his first one

Gacen began to say “the one i had got spilt and...” Ash cracked her knuckles clearly not in the mood “fine”...

[frogmanwritings]

Chapters: 4/?

Fandom: Teen Titans (Comics), Teen Titans (Animated Series), Teen Titans - All Media Types

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Relationships: Beast Boy/Starfire, Garfield Logan/Koriand'r

Characters: Garfield Logan, Beast Boy, Starfire, Koriand'r (DCU), Slade, Slade Wilson, Deathstroke, Robin, Robin (DCU), Dick Grayson, Cyborg (Character), Victor Stone, Raven (DCU), Rachel Roth

Additional Tags: Angst, Romance, Villains to Heroes, Fluff, Smut, Violence, Alternate Universe - Teen Titans (Animated Series) Setting, AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Evil

Summary: Garfield Wilson has lived with his adoptive father, Slade, since his parents died. Finally, after 5 years, Slade is sending him out to try and take down his rivals, the Teen Titans. How will a dark and mistreated Garfield react to them upon meeting them? How will he deal with their bright alien bringing a shine of positivity and joy to his life that he had hidden from him behind angst and abuse? Explicit Rating for Violence and Sexual Themes later on.

Links:

Ao3

Fanfiction

Wattpad

Starfire wasn't about to pretend that she hadn't seen some horrible stuff from her time on Tamaran. The war on her people led to many brutal battles, and she often saw the aftermath of such conflict. Tamaraneans were much more durable than humans and had a much stronger resistant to pain, so when a Tamaranean went down with an injury, you better believe it was something bad.

So while Robin had tried to shelter her from what they were about to witness, the alien thought she could handle it just fine. But... maybe her time on Earth had made her soft. Death in battle was a rarity, most criminals usually being restrained before anything escalated to that level, and her friends hardly ever had serious injuries. So when she laid her protected gaze onto the mauled face of one of the victims' in a far out warehouse, almost unrecognizable from a normal human's face with it so covered in dried blood, a gasp escaped from her mouth and she quickly looked away.

The Teen Titans had received a call about some seemed to be a deal of goods gone wrong, with two dead and one wounded. It was rather confusing as to why they were being notified with this, seeing as how just normal criminals were usually left to the local police force to handle, but then they were told that one of the victims was one of the Titans' long time enemies, Professor Chang. He was supposedly selling a crate-load of Xenothium to an unknown buyer, and, obviously, things didn't go according to his plan and he ended up with a bullet in his head.

Starfire was still suffering side effects from the flashbang that rattled both her sight and her hearing, but she found it to be manageable enough to be outside if she wore some sunglasses, or as she put it, 'Glasses of the Sun'. And the ringing in her ears was still present, so she still had to wear earplugs, but they were small enough so that she could still hear others, but reduced normal talk down to mere whispers, though the sound of cars driving and other loud noises were quite the bother for her. Robin was with her, refusing to show any sort of weakness despite the fact that he was still nursing his twisted knee. He didn't even have to tell her that he was in pain, she had been with him so long, she could read his face and body language almost without fault. He refused to limp, but each time he put weight on his left leg, his upper lip would raise just a tiny bit before falling back into place and his mask would scrunch up a small amount.

Of course, the Boy Wonder insisted that he was fine, but Starfire knew that to not be true and she just wished he didn't feel the need to be so tough and 'macho', as Cyborg once described it, all the time.

Speaking of Vic, he and Raven were both currently back at the Tower, still nursing their injuries, as while Robin had told the news that they were fine and could protect the city if need be, Cyborg still suffered from outages and was currently charging up after he dropped his battery and he almost lost all power. Raven meanwhile was meditating, trying her best to focus all of her energy on healing, and going to a crime scene with two victims wasn't really relaxing.

So it was just her and Robin, who was currently looking down at the body of Professor Chang. He had fallen awkwardly, on his stomach, right leg atop of his left with his arms each pointing outward like a starfish. And, of course, the gaping bullet wound that easily pierced his white helmet. There wasn't any need for them, as it was clear how both of the men died, but the bodies were soon to be hauled off for an autopsy report to see if they could find any evidence without possibly contaminating the corpses.

A heavy sigh escaped the Boy Wonder's mouth, and Starfire levitated over to place a hand on the shoulder of the black-haired leader. With Robin's previous work of being the apprentice of Batman, he had a clear no-kill policy, and death was something he could hardly stomach. As much as he hated the likes of Slade, he never wished death upon him, only that he be stopped and put in jail. And while Professor Chang had previously blindsided Robin and nearly destroyed the city, Starfire could feel that he felt no real hatred for the man.

And neither did she. He was a coward at heart and certainly a villain, but... he wasn't awful. She could certainly come up with villains that she disliked more. "Who would Professor Chang be selling Xenothium to?" Robin said to no one in particular, his brow furrowed and a pair of latex-covered fingers stroked his chin, glancing up at Kori who also entered thought. Professor Chang had made a few enemies in his work besides just the Titans thanks to his devious ways of going about business, but why would Chang set up a meeting with any of those people?

No, it had to be someone Chang was cool with, or at least was on speaking terms with. And that made the list so much longer. Doctor Light, Psimon, Killer Moth, Adonis, The HIVE Five, there were many villains that were at least partial to Professor Chang, enough to set up a meeting at least. But none of them wielded a gun. They all opted for less conventional weapons, and had no problems getting their own power sources, so why would they need to buy such an unstable compound?

"Perhaps the Brother Blood has escaped from jail?" Starfire suggested, but was quickly rebuffed with a firm shake of Robin's head. "No, I checked in with the Steel City police force before grabbing you. No recent escapes, let alone from someone as high level as Blood." He dismissed the notion, a heavy sigh escaping his lips afterwards. "Red X hasn't been seen in a while, and he has.. had beef with the Professor." The Boy Wonder went back to thinking out-loud and Kori continued to float around the warehouse, her eyes narrowing as she tried to see anything that would help, any unmarked evidence, but her sunglasses, while great for protecting her eyes, made it difficult to make out any details.

So, once she was in a relatively dark spot in the warehouse, Starfire shed her sunglasses, blinking at the newfound light and all the new colors that assaulted her sensitive eyes without her mahogany-colored senses, before eventually, her vision was clear enough for her to look around and see if there was anything she could find. Besides the two corpses and the guard who was hauled off to the hospital, there wasn't much to determine just who was in the warehouse at the time. Was it a single person who carried out the double murder, or maybe a gang?

Her eyes trailed until she had to shield her eyes from the glaring sun as a big hole in the wall allowed the light to seep in. Shading her eyes, Kori once again attempted to look at the gap, only to notice something... interesting as she began to look up. It was a glimmer, but it was all the Tamaranean needed as she floated over, using her hand to protect her eyes as the beaming sun stared at her. Any other time and such a bright day would bring joy to her, but right now? It was just an annoyance. She never thought she could hate the sun, and she still didn't, but now she was beginning to understand what it was like for Raven, to have the light burning into your eyes in the mornings after spending all day and night in a dim-light room.

But that was at the back of her mind as Starfire kneeled down beside the hole, her gaze, while dampened, still had a knack for little details that humans had troubles picking up, and what she saw was a few strands of hair. Not just any normal hair... or was it even hair? It was green. The same green that filled her sight just a few nights ago, dressed in black and bronze. Garfield. Her delicate fingers pinched the hairs, lifting them up for closer examination and she silently confirmed it to herself. Small bits of red gloop stuck on the ends of them, and the alien had to tug one of her fingers free after giving it a small touch. The same adhesive that Professor Chang was known for.

Her mind trailed back to Garfield, remembering the haunting sight of the green-skinned criminal standing over her, sweat-soaked and furious with that metallic staff in hand, recently stolen... Her vision was still very blurry from the flashbang, but.. her sight had become clearer faster than she let on...

"Robin!" Starfire screeched as a large ball of smoke enveloped the Boy Wonder and 'Garfield', but before she could react, to try and save her friend, a cylinder-shaped bomb had been tossed at her feet and exploded. But instead of shrapnel piercing her, her vision became white, and it seemed the bomb had more 'oomf' than it looked, as her ears were screaming in agony at just how... loud it was. Her hands came up to try and protect her eardrums, to shut off the screeching ringing through her mind, but she couldn't hear or see anything, her eyes shut tight and ears ringing, which left her an easy target...

Next thing Star knew, she was driven to the ground, crushing pain slamming down onto her chest, followed by her body crashing into the road, feeling the asphalt crumble and flatten beneath her. Seconds passed afterwards, the screaming pain still a constant in her head, but she could, only faintly, hear the sound of footsteps. Angry footsteps. She had to fight back, to get up and take down this criminal... no matter how much it hurt.

Her eyes burned as she opened them, a blurred vision of green, black and bronze above her, along with bright red a foot away from the tip of her nose. Slowly, her vision began to clear, and... there he was. Garfield Logan, as he called himself. The supposed son and apprentice of Slade, who had succeeded in not only stealing the top-secret staff of a local laboratory, but having bested the Teen Titans in combat and was about to... drive that explosive staff into the face of hers..

She tried to react, but her muscles felt lifeless after the smash down onto the road, and the ringing in her head prevented her from focusing on her emotions to summon her starbolts. She was helpless and fear enveloped her gaze. She couldn't go out like this!

But... he didn't finish her off. Starfire watched as Garfield seemed to have an inner struggle with the concept, body shaking and doubt crossing his eyes, that sickening frown on his face that was fuming with rage turned into a silent gasp drenched in despair. His irises widened, as if he was in a trance and just broke out of it, realizing just what he was doing. It.. confused the Tamaranean, to see this once ruthless villain seem so... hesitant. And slowly, he sheathed his weapon, muttering swear words under his breath and seemingly in a rush to get out of there.

It was... intriguing. Just who was this Garfield? Her eyes followed him as best as they could, but in her weakened state, where her muscles felt almost glued to the street, she could only give a last curious gaze in the direction of the changeling.

Starfire had thought that maybe he wasn't a killer, that his mission from Slade was to kill her and he refused, but... she later found out about the police officer who he had killed just minutes before the Teen Titans showed up. And that was something that was going to haunt the Tamaranean for the rest of her days. She and the rest of the Titans hadn't thought anyone was in danger, it was a laboratory closed at night far away from most common nightspots. If she had known that the police officer was just a block away, oh how she would've rushed her way there. Instead, they wasted precious minutes back at the Tower for Cyborg to start up the T-Car, of course bragging about it to Robin as he got in, even showing off his new upgrades which made her giggle.

Everyone felt guilty for the death, especially Cyborg, who took his frustration out on the very T-Car that he had previously bragged about, uninstalling and destroying the very upgrades that he had shown off to the others.

Starfire's heart squeezed at the memory of a sobbing Victor practically tearing apart his 'Baby', as he described it, hating both himself and it for costing the life of a brave and respected officer of the force. But... another part of her heart felt tight as she thought of the murder itself. Garfield was a killer. And that made her... sad. Murder isn't really common in Jump City, so each time the Titans had gotten involved with one, it was particularly hard on Starfire. But this one hurt even more. Why? Was it because she felt that Garfield was better than that? Was it because of the officer's status? Emotions were something she always had trouble with. Well, HER emotions.

Kori could read the emotions of others pretty well, like how she picked up on Robin's affection for her rather quickly. How Raven was always jealous of the three when they laughed and told jokes while she sat away from the others. How Cyborg felt grief when a mechanical part of him malfunctioned and didn't work properly, like the time his right hand couldn't grip down for a week. He tried to hide it with jokes, but she could see just how sad he was whenever he would drop something because of his malfunctioning hand, just wishing things were simpler for him.

Oh how she wished to be able to read herself as well as others, so that she could tell just what was going on in her heart and mind about this Garfield.

"What's that, Star?" Robin's voice interrupted her thoughts, who seemed to ignore her lack of sunglasses in favor of his interest towards what she held in her hand. And seemingly without noticing, Starfire had gripped down onto the green hairs while in thought. "Robin... I think that Garfield may have something to do with this." She responded, opening her palm and holding up the hairs up to the Boy Wonder, who took and held them with his thumb and index finger, mask narrowing and a small grimace crossing his face.

But before he could comment, the orbs on Starfire's gauntlets began to glow red, as well as the center of Robin's belt. Trouble. The alien thought somberly as this made the third day in a row someone was causing trouble, and it didn't take the world's smartest detective to figure just who was causing the ruckus. "Star, you should get back-" "No." Kori cut off any attempt of the Boy Wonder's to shield her from danger, hiding her sad look in place of a determined one and it seemed that the leader got the message, giving his leg a quick shake before running over to his R-Cycle, throwing on his helmet and zooming off towards their destination, the Tamaranean flying right beside him after putting back on her sunglasses. If she was going to get answers for her feelings, then hiding from the cause of them wasn't going to do anything. This Garfield guy, whoever he is and whatever his motivations are... she needed to find them out.

Garfield was exhausted, both physically and mentally. Just a day after the Xenothium deal gone right, with the death of the wicked Professor being all apart of his father's plan, along with securing a great amount of Xenothium. More than enough to power the entire city, not even the changeling knew just what his mentor was going to do with all of it, but he did have a clear idea in mind. First the staff, then the Xenothium, and now he was going into another laboratory, seeking out a special chemical that he's been told to enhance the physical traits of humans.

A bit like 'VENOM' that Bane used to power up his already superhuman body, it seemed that Hughman's scientists were trying to replicate the addictive drug, keyword being 'trying'. It was still very addictive, but their goal was to eliminate that, and to make it sustainable to strengthen the human body, increasing muscle mass and blood flow, as well as increasing brain activity and enhancing the seven senses.

Basically, it was suppose to be a 'miracle' drug. And Slade didn't want to wait until it was released to the public. As well, early versions of these sort of drugs tend to be far more... unpredictable and much more like its 'Venom' counterpart rather than a life-extender and body regenerator it was hyped up to be. And unlike Venom, this one was being guarded by weak scientists rather than a monstrous, smooth-talking Brit with the strength to break backs like no one else.

He was dressed in his standard black and bronze jumpsuit, armored gauntlets and boots still in tow, but again, without his utility belt. Or at least, without the utility in his utility belt, given how all of his tools and weapons were missing and only the belt remained The Titans were weakened, so Slade decided to test him once more. No tools and no weapons, just his powers, his body and his mind. And while Garfield knew his physical traits and mind were much better than the average human's, he felt... weak. While he did have enhanced healing, the skin on his arm still hadn't grown back from when he had to tear off the red glue that stuck to him, and holy hell did it sting.

.The pain of actually ripping the adhesive from his arm was painful enough, having lost lot of blood in the process and even exposing the flesh beneath his mutated skin, but it just didn't go away. It burned so bad, the constant feeling of his unprotected flesh rubbing against his bandages was like torture. Not to mention he felt mentally drained, having to kill two people in two days, as well as having to deal with his emotions being toyed with by his father, his newfound feelings for Starfire, be them real or not.. it was tough. But this was what he wanted. To be his father's apprentice. To do whatever he said and grow into a mirror image of the man who saved his life. And this was by far better than living in a eight foot wide room, tied to a pole like a dog.

Eyeing up the door to the laboratory, he took a deep breath, cracked his neck and thrust his boot forward to snap the door off of its hinges. "Everyone down!"

A room filled with average humans dressed in white coats and pants froze at the command, some not even bothering to look up to see who was giving the demand before crouching down underneath her desks. And it seemed that others got the message once they got a look at the mutated man stepping through their facility, ducking down to avoid the wrath of the stranger.

Garfield let out a snarl as the room began to glow red, a loud blaring alarm doing little more than piss off the changeling, his sensitive eardrums in pain over the obnoxious sound. Of course, he knew that would happen, but that didn't mean it still wasn't highly annoying to deal with. Trudging forward, he knew that the test samples of the green chemical would be in the higher levels, and with the outer-design of the laboratory being near identical to the past facility, it shouldn't be difficult to navigate.

Things were going relatively smooth, with him reaching the staircase leading up to the second floor, that was, until he ran into some pale-skinned blonde girl who seemed to be frozen in place once her brown eyes got sight of him. What she was doing, he didn't know, since she was looking like she was coming DOWN the stairs, even with the blaring alarm and flashing lights. Was she trying to stop him? She certainly didn't look like she could handle a kitten, let alone a strong muscled guy who could just so happen to turn into a kitten if he wanted to.

"Move." Was his simple demand, upper lip curling up into a snarl, revealing one of his sharp fangs to the girl. Whoever she was, she didn't seem important, looking very generic for the humans that Garfield had seen in his time on his work. Bright white coat covering most of her frame, her features were bland and her eyes... were boring. Certainly didn't invoke any emotion in the changeling staring into them, besides annoyance. Though he supposed that her competition wasn't exactly fair in regards to the women that he found attractive. "Pl..Please don't touch me.." Even her voice was unremarkable as she pleaded with the green-skinned man. "You... don't want what's up there, it's really... really unstable. It's not even worth anything!"

Sighing, Garfield stepped up the next few steps until the blonde was only a step up from him. "I said to move, lady." He firmly told her, brows furrowing in frustration. While he had no issue harming people, Slade had told him to try and not create any more victims after killing two people in two days, a third would only bring him more attention and his father preferred to keep things... relatively subtle. Grand theft brought less attention than murder, and while the thin woman would be easy to kill, that wasn't his mission. She wasn't a threat by any stretch, and thus when she silently pleaded with him with her almost yawn-inducing gaze, he grabbed her by the collar of her coat and lifted her up the rest of the stairs, before tossing her to the side of the white floor, letting her scramble and crawl away.

Several white-coats were in the room, playing around with tools that Garfield didn't bother to try and understand, only knowing he needed a few vials to complete his mission. One by one, the scientists turned in the direction of the green invader, most of them getting out of the way of the changeling. News spread quick of a shapeshifting villain who wasn't afraid to kill people and had a deadly disease inside of him, and thus most didn't want to bother with trying to fend off the health threat. But there were a few who looked to stop him, the burliest of the bunch who looked to protect their research.

Courage was admirable, but stupidity was repulsive, and the handful were much more the latter. Since Garfield had little trouble safely knocking out the adversaries, or at least making them rethink facing down a superpowered villain, he went right to a table that so happened to have half a dozen vials filled with the lime-green liquid. Slade said that while VENOM required a straight shot into the bloodstream to have its effects, this drug just needed to get into contact with the skin before it soaked into the muscles and blood cells beneath. Thus, the vials were tightly contained, no cork to close them, instead hard, clear metal with a tight switch that required the mightiest of thumbs to push upward to open. Tucking them into the designated containers on his belt, strapped down tight, he was a bit surprised to just be able to walk back out of the place, the ringing of the alarm the only annoyance he encountered exiting the building.

Of course, he was being just a bit too optimistic when he thought he could get out of sight before the Titans showed up, only this time, only half of them were there for him. A blazing red and black motorcycle was parked a few yards away, and an all too familiar Boy Wonder stood on the road, waiting for him. And above him... god he wasn't ready to look at the Tamaranean again. Was he a coward for doing all he could to avoid Starfire's gaze and instead focus entirely on Robin? Perhaps, but he was willing to be a coward if it meant appeasing Slade, and getting captured because he was too busy having a staring contest with the pretty alien didn't seem like the most optimal way into his father's heart.

He wasn't exactly surprised that the Teen Titans weren't fully together, he gave Cyborg a good frying and that Raven chick a few broken bones to remember him by, and even then, it seemed that the two in front of him weren't at 100%. Robin had a bit of a limp and Starfire was wearing sunglasses, and unless that was a fashion choice he hadn't been clued in on, it seemed the flashbang still gave her some troubles. Then again, he wasn't exactly fully healthy either, what with his wounded arm and fatigued brain.

"Garfield, I'm only going to warn you once. Stand down!" Robin spoke first, pointing a green latex finger at the changeling, who simply growled in response. Expecting some sort of add-on from his companion, he took a mental note of Starfire's silence, because he wasn't about to look up at her face to see just what her facial expression was. And instead of answering, Garfield knew he had to strike early and strike quick, so.. he did. One step forward and he transformed into a tiger, leaping at the Boy Wonder who was ready for the assault, ducking underneath the claws of the big cat.

"Star, check in with the workers and see if they need medical attention!" The Titan ordered his flying friend, who nodded her head and zoomed into the laboratory. Robin then turned in the direction of Garfield, who had shifted back into his human form, shaking his head. Exhaustion had always made his transformations more difficult, but now, in the heat of battle, it was more evident than ever. The simple shift into the tiger took a lot of energy out of him, and he wasn't sure how many more he could do to keep up with the leader. "I didn't kill anyone, just roughed a few up a bit." Logan huffed, getting into battle stance. He had hand-to-hand skills, might as well use them to converse energy.

"Well when dealing with a murderer of three, forgive me if I don't exactly trust you." Dick responded, matching the fighting stance of his green adversary, before eventually, things came to blows. Robin was the first to strike, a chop aimed at the nose of the changeling who blocked it rather easily with a forearm. However the Boy Wonder was quick, both on his feet and in his mind, and before Garfield knew it, a metal boot caught him in the gut, causing a heave and a momentary step-back. And it seemed that he wasn't getting any time to breath, as this time a metal boot was flying towards his chest.

This time, Logan had to duck out of the way of the foot aimed at his ribs, letting the walking traffic light land behind him after the whiff before pouncing onto his back, arms hooking around his head. A grunt escaped Robin's mouth as Garfield wrapped a bicep around his throat and claws replaced his fingernails to scratch at the face of the Boy Wonder. However, before the changeling could make a taunting comment about the situation, blunt pain ran through his forehead that forced him to let go and back off, reaching a hand up to feel at his face, only to see his own blood leaking down his nose. And in front of him was his adversary, holding his signature bo staff while he checked his own face for wounds.

"If you want to play dirty, then let's play!" Robin said in a grizzled tone once drawing his glove away to expose scarlet dribbling from scratches on his cheek. A scowl crossed his mouth and his face wrinkled in determination, and his hand suddenly drew his grapple gun, aimed at the hip of Garfield and fired. The changeling twisted his waist to the side, letting the hook fly past him and returning his gaze to the Boy Wonder, who had a cocky smirk to his face. Awaiting a next projectile or a charge forward, what he wasn't expecting was the raven-haired leader to suddenly blaze forward, drawn in by his grapple.

Logan let out a gasp of shock and pain as he once again felt the cold metal slam into him, unable to react in time as the blunt aching extended over to his gut. His body was propelled back by sudden momentum, until eventually he felt an explosion of sleek white wall behind him and the two crashed through into the inners of another lab, though it did seem to be closed.

Unsure of just what happened, Garfield coughed and held a hand over his screaming stomach, hoping to ease some of the pain as his vision returned to him, only to see the yellow, red and black grapple hook attached to a colorless chunk of the wall they just crashed through. He had used his grapple to propel him forward and catch the changeling by surprise. Clever. He begrudgingly and silently complimented his opponent, only to feel a boot press against his chest and his green gaze looked up to meet the domino-masked Titan that had taken him down. "Last warning. Surrender now or I'll drag your body over to the station."

Every part of Garfield hurt, his muscles felt weak and he thought that perhaps he could escape once surrendering, but he knew his father would be greatly disappointed if his son even entertained the thought of giving up. At the very least, he should escape, wait until his wounds were healed and he could properly beat up the Boy Wonder who aggravated him so, but... there was nothing more that the changeling wanted than to pound the boy who had captured his father's attention, to make him pay for taking up much of Slade's thoughts and plans, who was under the wing of the assassin before HIM.

So despite how much his body hated it and screamed against it, Logan transformed.

An anaconda to be specific, wrapping his thick body around the foot and ankle of Robin, who grunted as his muscles and bones were squeezed down upon. Garfield hid his face from the jabbing bo staff that attempted to blind him, only connecting with the durable flesh of the reptile, trying his best to snap every bone in the bird-boy's leg and cripple him, and the continued attempts to pull him off were in vain. The changeling saw his opponent's other leg wobble, threatening to give out on him, and itching to see that happen, his extended jaws chomping down onto his thigh.

And just as victory seemed to be in his grasp and he felt a bone snap beneath his coil, Garfield felt a stabbing pain in his side that forced him to open his mouth and let out a hiss of agony, looking over to see one of Robin's signature birdarangs stuck in his snakeskin, blood oozing out of the wound. And the pain forced him to return back to his human form, crawling away from the leg of the Boy Wonder and reaching for the weapon that was stabbed into his side. It was lodged in deep, and each pull only let more scarlet red gush out of the wound, but the apprentice bit his tongue and ripped, letting out a shriek in agony and clutching at the large gaping hole in his stomach now.

Glancing over at Robin, his vision was blurred but he could still make out the eyesore of his red, green and yellow outfit laid on the ground, gloves clutching at his ankle and forehead pressing against the white tile of the lab. A growl escaped Garfield's mouth, and as much as he did want to obey his father's orders of no deaths, the rage of being stabbed by Robin... that each time he saw him, he saw someone his father chose before him, to leave him rotting in his cellar... perhaps the son that Slade wanted over him...

Gripping down tight on the Bird-a-rang, he flung it as hard as he possibly could right towards the head of the dazed Boy Wonder, hoping to see the image of his own weapon lodged into his brain, his body limp and gray, presented to his father to show him that HE was the superior apprentice, that all of his attention should've been directed at HIM. But a bright, green flash interrupted the projectile, causing it to break into several pieces and bounce a safe distance away from Robin.

No.. Garfield thought somberly as his chance to kill the source of his jealousy shattered, and only fitting it was by the one Titan that mystified him. "Robin!" Her voice echoed in his ears, he didn't need to see her, he didn't WANT to see her. And he certainly wasn't ready to fight her. He was aching everywhere, his previous transformations had exhausted him, not to mention the last time he looked into her eyes, he felt emotions that he hadn't felt in years. That he felt ever even. Thankfully, it seemed that her relationship with Robin won out over her sense of justice, as he could hear her asking of his condition.

Clutching his wound, he chose this moment to try his escape, panting as he practically crawled through the hole his body crashed into. But he was struggling, his arm started to bleed again, and he was losing blood quicker than he could run. And to just add onto his misery, the last thing he heard Robin say was "Go after him!". All he could hope to do was hide out and hope that he could regain his energy before they found him, unlikely as it may be.

So, he cut into an alley, unable to hold his breath to fight off the stench of the junk that rotted there. It seemed that despite the ever clean interior of the labs, it was because they dumped all their trash into the dumpsters and stuffed them into the alleys. Soon, Garfield finally collapsed behind one of the dumpsters, trying to fight off his vision blurring, to hold in as much blood as possible, but his clothes were torn and his hands could only cover so much.

"Garfield..?"

That soft voice.. she was there. His glassy eyes glanced upward, but his vision was giving way, black creeping in on the corner of his eyes and everything was a fog. But he could still see her. That bright autumn hair, shining orange skin, purple attire, and of course... those twinkling eyes. The closer she got, the darker his sight went, and just before a hovering hand could touch him, his body gave out and darkness enveloped him, leaving him with a mixture of relief and disappointment that confused him, just like her. Just like Starfire.

[zerathine]

Chapter 1: Your Best Friend

Book 1: Dark

Breaking the barrier permanently and ending the Resets will require Frisk and Chara to choose a side: friends or enemies?

Virtual

The bed of golden flowers

I lie on stretches to soak in the feeble sunlight. The cavern is cozy, a smidge wider than my room at home but much, much taller. A tan hand that does not belong to me covered in pollen lifts to block the light. I roll…

No. Wait. That is not quite right, is it? I am not the one in control.

<!-- Another Reset… -->

The voice - his? hers? theirs? - is more of a thought than speech but is as clear as the music of Mom’s crystal wine glasses.

The owner of the voice stands--and I with them--a stick clutched in their left hand as they pat the pollen from their striped shirt. Tufts of leaves poke out of the stick’s single branch. They’re lucky it didn’t impale them or snap from the fall. As though sensing my thoughts, they inspect their person for injury apart from whatever the bandage on their forearm covers.

They...they...No, that, too, is inaccurate. I am not an outsider peering in. I am...dead. Was dead. Irrelevant. I can sort that mystery out later. Correcting my perspective to right this disorientation takes precedence.

My essence is bound to...to you. As it was once bound to another. You breathe, and I breathe with you. Through your eyes, I see a white card reflecting sunlight tucked into the flowers.

That’s new, you say, and these words resound off the surrounding pillars.

Hmm, no, that perspective does not quite fit either. This person is not really “you,” are they? “You” are entirely someone else.

The child kneels to collect and inspect the empty card, and their wonderment buzzes through me, just like their question.

<!-- What’s your name? -->

Name...My name is….

My name is…?

My memories of the time I was alive are far from lacking: tender moments with family sitting before the lit fireplace or moments where I was given that rare delicacy known as chocolate, but like the card, my name is empty.

/* I don’t know. */

The person blinks and lowers their arm to their side, head tilted. My answer, I suspect, is unexpected, but the hesitation lasts a heartbeat before another thought comforts me: <!-- Let’s keep going. -->

Ah! Let’s. Let us. Us, we, ours. Had I lips, I would have smiled. We smile anyway.

We slide the glossy card into a pocket on our shorts and snap the button shut, then follow the single passageway to a slate-colored doorway with the Delta Rune emblazoned above, supported on a pedestal by two ridged pillars. We brush our fingertips along the dry stone in the threshold, eyeing a cheerful flower bobbing along to its humming. When it spots us, its smile widens.

<!-- Don’t let him trick you. He’s a jerk. -->

/* Really. Well then, what do you propose we do? */

<!-- We try running. -->

/* And has that worked for previous encounters? */

<!-- No. -->

/* Hah! Then, what makes you think it’ll work now? */

<!-- It won’t, but we don’t have any other choice. Help never comes until we’re about to die. -->

Well, that’s the finest display of optimism by my new companion…. We inhale and, it occurs to me as we run toward the flower on our exhale, that we haven’t been properly acquainted.

/* Hey, what’s your-- */

“Howdy!” The flower’s friendly smile widens. He expects us to stop. “I’m Flowey! Flowey the Flo-”

Our foot smashes into Flowey’s face, and we exult with a reverberating “whoop!” and laughter. Never, in the history of human or monster-kind alike, has a plant faced such demoralization.

“Aaaaargh! What’s the big idea, you idiot!?” Flowey shouts.

The magic he flings at our back tinks against the stone floor as we dash into the next chamber where a grand staircase hugs a pile of Autumn leaves. Our chest spasms from our giggles and breaths.

<!-- We did it! We’re going to esca--Oomf. -->

Something latches onto our collar and lifts us running from the ground, reducing us to dangling Flowey-bait. So much for our great escape.

“My child, you should pay closer attention to your surroundings,” a woman chides.

She sets us facing her on our feet and brushes down our wrinkled shirt. Ears drape over her shoulders and small, white horns poke out of her head. She holds herself with the grace of royalty, posture erect, towering even. Her face...

“You ought to apologize to the poor dear.”

...M-Mom.

It’s...it’s Mom.

But she should be at New Home. Not here.

But here she is.

Why…?

We stumble after her tug on our wrist, too dumbstruck to resist. Flowey, whose grimace reeks with suspicion, leans away from our approach and into the halo of light, which highlights the footprint stamped into his face. With a bit more force, the indentations might have been permanent. It’s too bad dirt will wash away.

“Do not be scared, little one,” Mom says. “The child only wishes to tell you they are sorry.”

She releases us but places her paw in between our shoulder blades to keep us from fleeing, a habit she developed because of my past fights with Asriel, heheh. She nudges us forward, and our hand flexes around the stick, the tip of which Flowey eyes as it teeters up and down.

“You do wish to tell him that you are sorry, do you not, my child?”

We flip the stick so the point faces behind us, grin at our masterpiece, and frame the shoeprint with our fingers. Some of the pollen from the golden flowers has mixed with the dirt. Truly a photogenic piece.

“That’s not an apology,” Flowey says, glowering.

We crouch to eye level with him and circle our arms around our legs, then pick at the bandage on our forearm. He sinks into his stem.

“Well?” Flowey snaps.

We pull our eyelid down with a finger and stick our tongue out at him.

“Rrrgh, you little--”

“My child.” We flinch at the severity in Mom’s voice as she places a hand on our shoulder and kneels beside us. Her disapproving frown foretells a Mom talk. “In life there are many choices, each of them paired with a resulting consequence.” She gestures to Flowey. “Your decision to terrorize this poor creature will result in a negative consequence such as a night without dinner. However, should you reverse your course, a positive consequence may follow such as my warm, homemade, flaky butterscotch-cinnamon pie.”

Mom’s pie...steam rises from caramelized sugar waiting to melt in our mouths. The spicy-sweet scent of the cinnamon glaze Mom brushes onto the pan and the top of the pie permeates the cavern. We can almost reach out a hand to dig our fingers into the gooey filling, but our growling stomach bursts the daydream into a pie-less reality.

I’m sorry…

“What was that?” Flowey drawls. “I couldn’t tell if that was your mouth or your stomach talking.”

I’m sorry your face found my foot.

Flowey giggles. His tipping head leads the sway of his stalk like one of those gaudy solar dancing flowers.

“Golly, that’s…” And in that instant he freezes, his expression darkened to a poignant scowl while we bite back more laughter. “That’s not funny…. Stop laughing.” We laugh harder. “I said stop laughing!”

“Oh dear,” Mom sighs. “I’m sorry, ah…”

“Flowey,” Flowey growls.

“My deepest apologies, Flowey, for the child’s misbehavior. Allow me to make it up to you somehow. Would you and your family like some baked snails?”

“Hmph, I don’t have a family.”

“O-Oh...dear. I am sorry. I, ah, did not realize….” Flowey shoots Mom a withering glare. “Well, would you like to accompany us for some pie?”

What, no!

“Hush, my child. We will deal with your punishment when we return home.”

/* Worth it. */

“No. I’m fine,” Flowey says.

“Are you certain, small one? I would like to do something to make up for the child’s discourtesy.”

“I said I’m fine. But thanks. For the invitation.”

“Well, if you change your mind you are more than welcome to join us.”

We waddle the cramps from our legs into the next room, where amethyst clusters protruding from the ceiling saturate the brick with a deep purple glow, almost disguising the stone crumbling from years of disuse. It’s certainly a stark contrast to the blackness of the previous cavern. We glance over our shoulder, but Flowey’s gone. Well, at least we dodged on apologizing, and he’s out of our hair now. Plus, whatever punishment Mom decides upon won’t be cruel.

Mom herself, now that we can get a better look at her, looks older. Her coat has lost its luster to time’s corrosion. It’s more matte, more brittle than soft. The only exception is the faintest glimmer of joy in the crinkle of her eyes.

“What an interesting creature,” Mom says as she follows our gaze to the now-empty moss. “I’ve never seen a flower monster like him before. Hmm, nevermind. It’s not as though I have spoken to every existing monster myself.” We meet her eyes. “My name is Toriel. I am the Keeper of the Ruins, and every day I pass through this area to see if any humans have fallen. Though your behavior was less than ideal, I still look forward to showing you your new home.”

We follow her up the deteriorating steps, the stone rail rough with age under our hand. Even the crystals above look like they might wiggle loose with one good quake, crushing the staircase into dust and rubble and submerging this room, too, in darkness. Mom hums a haunting lullaby that accentuates the hollowness of the Ruins. Slimes, shadows, frogs...monsters of all sizes, shapes, and stenches used to pack these vacant walls. But now they are no more.

Just how much time has passed between my death and now?

We hop up the remaining two steps, whereupon a flower pops out of the floor near the doorway.

“Howdy,” Flowey says. His face looks naked without our footprint art. “So, I’ve thought about your invitation, and I’ve changed my mind. I think pie sounds like a wonderful idea, and it’s the perfect apology.”

“Oh, splendid!” Mom says.

/* This is not splendid. */

“We would be delighted to have you join us, wouldn’t we, my child?”

We say nothing as Mom turns the corner ahead of us. We squeeze the stick to dispel our rocketing anxiety, point two fingers at our eyes, and then jab them in Flowey’s direction. Unfazed by our warning, he bares his fang-filled smile and plops underground.

“...variety of difficult puzzles,” Mom says as we’re entering the first puzzle.

/* Oops, should we have been listening to her? */

<!-- It’s okay. We won’t have to worry about it. -->

She lowers the lever and the doors scrape open to the sound of rushing water. We shuffle along the well-worn path past the six depressed buttons and into the next corridor where water flows along two parallel troughs. Flowey, waiting for us at the first lever, pulls it with a vine and a leafy wave. A distant mechanism clicks, slides, and clicks.

“Puzzles will be no problem if we work together, right?” Flowey asks as he sways to and fro.

I can do it on my own.

“I mean, I’m sure you’d be fine, but what’s wrong with a little bit of help from your best friend Flowey?”

Repaying a Loan Shark would be easier. We ignore him and dash across the bridge ahead of Mom to pull the next lever.

/* Wait, that’s-- */

“No!” Mom shouts.

We jerk our hand back as though scalded by the metal, our jaw clenching when Flowey giggles from behind us.

“That’s the wrong switch, silly,” Flowey says.

We stumble back and look between the two levers, puzzled, though it’s pretty clear which one is correct.

<!-- It’s supposed to be this one. -->

/* But the yellow arrows are pointing to the right one. */

<!-- No, you don’t understand- -->

“What’s wrong, my child?” Mom says. “Go ahead and pull the other switch.”

I just wanted to see what this switch would do.

“Well, if I’d have known you wanted to waste everyone’s time, I wouldn’t have given away the answer,” Flowey says with that ear-drilling giggle. “By all means, go ahead and pull it, but it’s just a dud.”

You’ve taken all the fun out of it.

We march to the other lever. We tug it down. The spikes slide beneath their plates, which opens the way to the next room where a dummy sits in the far corner.

/* A cotton heart and a button eye, you are the apple of my eye. */

“In the underground, you will run into monsters who will try and attack you, but do not fear, my child,” Mom says. “Simply talk to them and stall for time until I can come to your aid. Why not practice talking to the dummy?”

Monsters...monsters attacking us. No, that cannot be. Knight Knights, Bye Bees, Doppel Gen Mirs, Migospels, Gorgonzillas...None of them would hurt a human.

<!-- A lot has happened. -->

Flowey’s existence is proof enough of that. He pokes out of the ground next to the Dummy and pats the base with a leaf.

“What’s wrong? Don’t tell me this stuffed animal scares you,” he says.

No.

“Do you hate dummies?”

No.

“Then what’s the problem? Don’t you want to be its friend?”

We cross our arms and jerk our head away.

No.

Wait….

The dummy sheds a stuffing tear and putters into the air out of sight. We wince.

“Gosh, that wasn’t very nice,” Flowey says.

You set me up on purpose.

“What are you talking about? I just asked you a simple question. You were the one who chose to say no. Don’t go blaming others for your insensitivity.”

“Flowey is right, my child,” Mom says. “You cannot place blame on others for your actions, even if it was an accident.”

“From what I’ve heard that dummy is pretty sensitive, too. Why, I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s telling its cousin about what you said right this instant,” Flowey says.

“That’s enough from you, too, young one. It is cruel to dig at the wounds of another.”

Flowey rolls his eyes. “Yeah, whatever.”

He burrows beneath the rock, and Mom leads us into the next room, where vendors with vibrant stalls once lined up in rows to sell their handmade blankets, dishware, and trinkets away from the city bustle. Only the stone remembers the echoes of the names they once hailed.

/* By the way...you never told me your name. */

<!-- Oh. It’s Frisk. -->

/* Frisk? That name...it feels so familiar, but I am certain this is the first time we have met. */

<!-- It’s not. -->

/* What? */

<!-- It’s difficult to explain. -->

/* Try me. You certainly act like this isn’t your first time through here, yet everything has taken you by surprise thus far. */

<!-- Because it’s different. It’s the same, but it’s different. You’ve never forgotten your name before, even though it’s changed several times--  -->

/* Changed? */

<!-- --and we’ve never been able to step on Flowey’s face before, and he’s never insisted on tagging along directly, and-- -->

/* Calm down. Your jumbled thoughts are making me dizzy. Wait, watch out! */

A Froggit hops into our path within the narrow corridor, more startled by our presence than we are its. We keep our posture open and inviting to counterbalance the Froggit’s offensive crouch.

Aw, aren’t you a cutie.

It doesn’t understand our words, but it relaxes and blushes pink until Mom hustles up to us and frightens it away with her stinkeye. It hops by in a hurry to escape her, poor thing. It didn’t do anything wrong.

Mom takes hold of our hand anyway to guide us across the spiked floor ahead of us. She’s more protective than I remember.

/* What do you mean my name has changed several times? */

<!-- It’s not all the time. Usually when we first meet. Sometimes it’s Steve, other times Ellen. It’s been Kevin, Zera, Susan, and a bunch of other names I can’t pronounce. -->

/* None of those are me. */

...None of those are me. I can’t explain how I know this, but those names do not encompass who I am. With nothing left to say, we step through another threshold into a corridor stretching into an infinite nightmare. Mom turns to face us.

“I sense some remaining animosity between you and Flowey, my child,” Mom says. “Please, forgive me for what I am about to do, but I believe it is for the best that you two work through your differences.”

Mom books it to the other end of the hall, a white and purple speck by the time she reaches the lone pillar. Flowey pops out of the ground, giggling.

“Finally, she’s gone. Now you and I can chat without interruptions.”

We sidestep Flowey and entertain the thought of stomping on his face again. He cuts us off.

“Well, gosh, from the way you’ve been acting, it seems like you already know what’s going on here, huh?”

We shrug. It’s still a long way to where Mom’s hiding.

“You seem pretty smart for a human,” Flowey continues. “Say, and I’m only making a wild guess here, but…”

We skip past him again, confident he won’t attack where Mom can see us. He sure is a persistent flower.

“...Hey…”

We ignore him.

“Aaaaaaaargh! Would you stop and listen to me, you idiot!? If you don’t, I’ll kill her. Hee hee hee.”

We pause and tap the tip of the stick against the cave floor. Flowey clears his throat to draw our attention, but we cross our arms and wait. If he wants to talk, he can come to us. He growls but pops up in front of us once more so we can talk face-to-face.

“As I was saying, it seems like there’s been a misunderstanding between us. I mean. Our first meeting was you stepping on my face. And then blaming me for your mistakes. So, I’m not exactly in the wrong here.”

We wave a hand in front of us to tell Flowey to get to the point.

“At least this time,” Flowey adds. “So, what was it before? I give you some bad advice? Try to steal your stick?”

You know the answer to that already.

We start to walk away again to let him know we won’t answer his roundabout questions.

“Okay, okay. I admit, the thought of killing you did cross my mind. I’m guessing that’s what I’ve done in the past, so I understand why you don’t like me.”

We shouldn’t have said anything, but we halt again, since he has stopped beating around the bush.

“Sure, I may have done some preeeeeeeetty gross stuff to you before. But” --he studies us-- “are you entirely innocent yourself?”

Distorted thoughts skritch along our brain like dozens of agitated bees. Our flinch is the trigger for Flowey’s next sting.

“You aren’t, are you? You’ve toyed with their lives, too. You realize this is all just a game, so you Reset to discover what you’ve missed. Hee hee hee. You sicko. You’re just like me.”

That’s not--

“But it’s okay because no one remembers. Why golly, even I can’t remember!”

You’re just assuming things.

The skritching worsens the longer Flowey considers us.

“I can be amicable, too, you know,” he says slowly. “We could be allies, you and I. Wouldn’t that be interesting? With your ability to Reset, it’d be useless to try and kill you, I see that now, but if we worked together, we’d be unstoppable. The best part? There wouldn’t be any consequences!”

No, absolutely not. We storm past Flowey, our heart and mind racing in opposite directions. His fixation on this idea bodes ill for us, and we’re only a third of the way through the hall. But if Flowey is right and we...if Frisk is some anomalous time traveler, then the probability of Resetting to sate their curiosity seems rather high.

/* Is it true, Frisk? */

<!-- No! -->

/* Then why Reset so much? */

<!-- It’s not-- -->

Flowey wraps a vine around our ankle, which we shake as he stretches his stalk further from the ground to twist in front of us.

“Why are you so against the idea of us working together?” He follows our involuntary glance to the pillar where Mom hides. “You think that pig hiding actually cares about you? That she’s any better than me?”

She looks more like a goat.

“Augh, whatever! Pig, goat, trash, I don’t care what you call her. The point is you are just a replacement to her, a fantasy for times long past.”

You’re lying.

“She ran away from her responsibilities and now searches for poor, injured humans to try and fill in her loneliness. Look at her. She’s a pathetic bleeding heart. She’d be more than happy to let you march off to your own death than try to prevent it. Why? Because she’s afraid. She’s afraid of facing her shortcomings and mistakes far more than she fears for your safety. What a hypocrite.”

That’s not...

Our struggle against Flowey’s hold ceases at the flicker of a memory, not from me but from Frisk, of Mom’s hug begging us not to leave the Ruins yet not offering to accompany us either to ensure our safety. Her expectations, her loneliness, her fear....she’d claimed to set them aside for us, but the truth was that she had clutched onto them all the tighter.

/* No, Mom isn’t like that, Frisk. */

Flowey continues, “But me? I’m not afraid of anything, and I’m the only one who can really understand you and your ability. Hee hee hee. I can help you. Your false trust, your loneliness, your fear. I can help you overcome them. I can show you the truth, and I won’t lead you astray. There’s just one itsy-bitsy thing you gotta do. It’s simple, really. You just have to side with me. It’s your call. Just make sure it’s the right one.”

Flowey burrows underground, leaving us to contemplate his offer.

But to accept would be absurd. We are caught at a crossroads halfway between the corridor’s entrance and Mom’s pillar. This is all wrong. Asriel’s and my plan had failed, but Mom should still be with Dad, so why is she here anyway?

/* Frisk, what happened since...since my death? */

<!-- I can’t tell you. It’s not my place. -->

/* What do you mean? I deserve to know what happened to my family. */

<!-- It’s better if you learn it from them, not me. -->

/* Fine. */

We reach the pillar in silence, where Flowey waits with Mom, who has her hands clasped before her until she sees us from the corner of her eye. The furrow of her brow betrays the dissatisfaction she won’t voice.

“Greetings, my child. I am sorry to have left you. I wished to not only test your independence but allow you the opportunity to reconcile with Flowey. However, he tells me you continue to ignore him.”

Mom hesitates and scrutinizes us. With a curt, self-assured nod, she pulls out an ancient-looking cellphone from the pocket of her robe and approaches us.

“Here, my child, take this. I must attend to some business in order to prepare the pie and think it would be best if you and Flowey used this time to continue working through your differences. I am sure that you two have more in common than you might think. Why not talk about some hobbies you may share while I am away? Or pretend you are monarchs ruling over the leaf pile with a fist of iron. I will return in a short while to see how you are doing. Be well, my children.”

In the yard with the blackened tree, our knuckles white and hand aching, we brandish the stick as the weapon it truly is for the first time against Flowey. Too many battles has that contemptible flower interfered, providing wrong directions to watch us flounder against easy enemies throughout the entirety of the Ruins.

No, not enemies. They are not enemies, no matter what poison Flowey feeds us. There’s no reason to kill them, even in self-defense, as Frisk has proven.

But this...this parasite will ruin us.

“Boy, without me around to help you, you woulda been dead by now, huh, friend?” Flowey says. “Good thing I’m here! Are you sure this isn’t your first time though? You seemed kinda lost. I mean, there was that whole thing with that stupid ghost--”

His name is Napstablook, and it’s your fault he left crying!

“--plus the puzzles you constantly screwed up at every turn despite how much you’ve supposedly done them, and have you never fought Moldessa triplets before?”

I’ve only seen them a few times, and that was forever ago.

“I’m not judging you or anything, but your form was a little sloppy. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone fight more pathetically than you.” His sly smile is another cut along our battle-weary soul. “Maybe it’s not that you choose to befriend everyone but rather you can’t even fight. You don’t know how to attack, you don’t know how to kill, you don’t know anything! Maybe the previous times I tried to kill you because it would be a mercy!”

Our befriending attempts may have been sloppy, but our vertical slash at Flowey is swift and precise. Flowey jerks to the side in time to catch the blast of air as the stick whistles past his face.

“Golly, you sure are quick to attack for someone who’s never killed, huh?” Flowey taunts. “Have I already angered you to homicide? Hee hee hee. That was easier than I thought.”

We sweep the stick parallel to the ground, but Flowey tunnels out of the way.

“I guess you’ve made your choice then,” Flowey says.

I won’t side with you. Lie to as many monsters as you want to make them hate me--

“What in the world is going on here!?” Mom shouts.

A wall of flame intercepts our next slash, and we falter in our step, aghast. Not often have I witnessed the sort of rage that engulfs Mom’s arms in fire to the elbows without singeing a lock of her fur--or the bag of groceries clenched in her opposite hand. We instinctively cower away from her.

“That is enough of this childish behavior. You two could get seriously hurt. Child, follow me this instant. I do not know how you were treated on the surface, but down here we do not needlessly attack one another when there is a disagreement.”

Mom snatches our arm and drags us staggering toward the quaint house, one of the only structures not falling apart brick by brick. Despite being in trouble, the lighting as we enter the foyer casts a homely glow, even as we’re tugged to the right and down a hallway consisting of three rooms, the first at which she jerks us to a halt. We relinquish the stick to her outheld paw, sulking as we’re ushered into the bedroom.

“You may come out when you have calmed down and thought about your actions,” Mom says.

Though we expect the door to slam behind us, the jamb mutters shut and the lock snicks into place. We jostle the handle to no avail. We truly are locked in. Mom’s voice fades as she exits the hallway toward the living room, asking Flowey if he’d like to help her with the pie and apologizing on our behalf, as if we’re the enemy.

We scour the room for an escape, but aside from dusty toys, a chest full of shoes, a camera on the bookshelf, and a closet full of assorted striped shirts, we find nothing. Along with the camera sits a music box, which we wind up to fill the tense silence. It’s the lullaby Mom was humming earlier, the underlying chords warming the melody.

We plunk down onto the bed and rub a hand along our face, sinking further into the mattress as we exhale.

<!-- I was expecting minor changes to this run but nothing as...extreme as this. -->

Not particularly keen on talking to Frisk myself, I retain my silence, and we listen to our heart slowing to the music’s tempo. Throughout the Ruins, we bumbled through attacks and floundered through puzzles, our knowledge of how things should be and reality differing from one another. Our accidental insults toward the monsters had dwindled into stony silence with Flowey as our constant shadow.

Stacked atop all of that is Frisk’s insistence on withholding knowledge claiming it’s for my benefit, just like Mom used to say when I asked her questions, or like that one game, keep away, which I used to play with Asriel. Except now I’m the victim. No wonder he always tattled on me.

<!-- I’m not doing it to anger you. There’re just...some things that are better forgotten, things I wish I could forget. -->

/* The least you can do is stop invading my thoughts. */

<!-- I’ll try. -->

We unsnap our pocket and remove the card we found at the start of our journey. Both sides are still empty. It’s rectangular, about the size and glossiness of a photograph.

/* You’ve said before that it was new. */

<!-- Yeah, and it wasn’t the first strange thing to happen, either. -->

We close our eyes, our hand covering the card on our stomach while our legs dangle over the side of the bed. We picture a long hallway tinted blue and devoid of sound, writing etched into the wall where occasionally a gray door stands.

<!-- Because of that, everything has changed. -->

"I can feel it,” Asriel’s deep voice echoes. “Every time you die, your grip on this world slips away. Every time you die, your friends forget you a little more. Your life will end here, in a world where no one remembers you…”

The world is ending, has dissolved to the darkness of final confrontation. Before us Asriel floats, the wings of the cosmos extending to the ends of the universe. I can feel it, too. Every soul pulsing within his body cowers at the magnitude of the power ensnaring them. They are lost, each and every one of them. Yearners, dreamers, wishers...all seek the forgotten.

Hundreds of beams punch through our paralyzed soul until it splinters into halves. But it refuses.

“Still you're hanging on...? That's fine. In a few more moments, you'll forget everything, too. That attitude will serve you well in your next life."

We bolt awake, solid and whole and shaking.

/* Frisk, was that… */

<!-- A memory. -->

/* Asriel’s alive? */

<!-- No, not exactly. -->

/* Then what? */

<!-- He’s kind of like how you are at the moment. -->

Huh, that makes a bizarre sort of sense. Neither alive nor dead but caught within the circuitry like a glitch.

Rubbing our eyes of sleep and yawning, we slide from the bed onto our knees to grab the card and pocket it again. A dense grogginess numbs our mind, but we rock to a stand and approach the door, not like Mom’ll have unlocked--

It swings open. We blink, then creep into the hallway like fugitives. The warm smell of pie clobbers our olfactories, nearly toppling us into a starving heap on the floor as our stomach clenches into a meal-deprived knot. Mom’s too far away to summon for help. Looks like we’ll have to proceed on our own.

We slink through the foyer, straining our ears to listen for any suspicious sounds, arms wrapped around our stomach to muffle its protesting growls until we reach the wall between us and the living room.

“...digestive systems as they mature?”

Ah, facts about snails. Asriel loved it when Mom shared a new snail fact with us every week, always spent the first hour trying to guess what fact she would share by shouting nonsense like, “Talk. Really. Slowly?” Flowey, on the other hand, looks bored to tears as we poke our head into the living room. Huh, surprising he hasn’t threatened her with violence yet.

Mom catches us from the corner of her eye and smiles while she places the snail book in her lap. “Good morning, my child. You are just in time to eat pie and enjoy some facts about snails. Would you like to join us?”

We nod and enter the room in trepidation as Mom leaves for the kitchen and returns with the biggest slice of pie I have ever seen. We take the plate, plop onto the floor, and scarf down the pie, much to Mom’s amusement and Flowey’s distaste.

“Say, what would you do if you found out the human killed someone?” Flowey asks.

Mom nearly spits out her bite of pie, and we nearly choke on ours. “What?” Her attention snaps to us. “Who did they kill?”

“Oh, nobody!” Flowey giggles. “It was just a hypothetical question. You know, just in case they ever do.”

Mom contemplates her answer. “I would ask who they killed, why they felt inclined to do so, and if they thought it was the right thing to do. There is always an underlying reason for our actions. I would then explain to them that the monster likely had a family who had cared for them very much and that now the monster is gone and will never return home.”

“Wow, that’s really sad.”

We dislodge from our throat the chunk of pie that tried to kill us and set our plate aside--fork and knife included. The pie looks less appealing now as apprehension worms its way into our stomach instead.

“What if they continued to do it?” Flowey says.

“W-what?”

“You know, kill monsters. What if they didn’t listen to you?”

“I…”

“Golly, what a heavy question. They would never do that, would they?”

Flowey shoots us a pointed look, his head tilted sideways. We shake our head, our pulse racing. Flowey’s eyes sink into his disk, forming hollow orbits through which his pupils glow, and his smile curls into that of the deranged, growing wider and wider until it could swallow us whole. We fall back on our hands to scramble away from him.

“That’s why someone has to do it for them until they learn otherwise!” he says.

A barrage of pellet-sized bullets punch through Mom, who slumps back in her chair, eyes glassing over as we scramble to our feet. Her plate clatters to the floor.

“Ha….ha…” Toriel gasps the last of her breath.

Her dust plumes out to cover the chair, her soul hovering in the negative space until one pellet strikes and shatters it into thousands of sprinkling shards. Flowey cackles.

“So, you won’t kill anyone, will you? No, you want to save them. Hee hee hee. That’s okay. I’ll help you overcome your fear of watching them die by killing them myself when you’re least expecting it. Go ahead! Reload your last save. I’ll be waiting.”

Flowey vanishes beneath the floorboards.

The room tears away into darkness that sews itself together into the bedroom where we were previously grounded. We release a shuddered breath and exit into the hall. This time, when the pie’s sweetness bombards our nose, we swallow a gag. Nauseated, we slink into the living room contemplating the worst outcomes.

Mom lowers the snail book to her lap and greets us with her ignorant smile.

“Good morning, my child,” Mom says. “You are just in time to eat pie and enjoy some facts about snails.” She frowns. “Oh dear, are you unwell? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Flowey makes a show of dipping his head to inspect his leaves, his eyes lifted toward us while another of his disturbing smiles sprouts along his face.

I’m okay, just a little tired.

“Howdy!” Flowey perks up. “Boy, you slept forever. I was getting bored and was about to ask our host what she would do if you ever decided to kill her.”

“Goodness,” Toriel says, “what prompted that question?”

“Well, they're human, aren't they? And humans are notorious for believing they're above consequences! Aren't you? Hee hee hee.”

That's a lie! You’re the one who thinks there’re no consequences for our actions. You believe this world is kill or be killed, but you’re--

“Right!” Flowey says. “This world is kill or be killed. And I’ll show you why.”

Again the bullets puncture Mom’s body. We let out a strangled cry, reach for her as her dust billows outward in a cloud. We crawl toward her shivering soul, but it bursts into glass fragments that dissolve upon impact with the floor. We sink against our heels, arms limp at our sides.

“You know, my sibling used to get me in trouble all the time,” Flowey says. “It's kinda nice being on the opposite end of that for once, hee hee.”

As he twists around to face us, Flowey gives our shoulder a sympathetic squeeze with one of his vines.

“Oh, stop crying. The only reason you're suffering is because you refuse to distance yourself. You should revel in the freedom that killing others brings without worrying about the consequences. Continue like you are and you’ll only end up alone with no one to blame but yourself. I’m your friend. It’s not like I enjoy seeing you like this, but you’re hurting yourself with your constant lies. All you need to do is admit that you’ve killed, and this violence will stop. That’s it!”

We shake our head with conviction. Flowey sighs and tuts at us like we’re a simpleton.

“You’re lying,” Flowey says.

He disappears, and the world tears away to the bedroom once more. Again we march to the living room and again we stop short as Mom smiles at us.

“Good morning, my child. You are just in time to eat pie with us and enjoy some facts about snails.” She frowns. “Oh dear, are you unwell? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

I’m fine, just a little tired. Can I still have some pie?

Mom chuckles and stands, placing the book on the cushion of her chair. Once she disappears into the kitchen, we snatch one of the fire pokers from the stand in the corner adjacent to the doorway, the wrought iron heavy in our hands.

“Hee hee hee. You’re so easy!” Flowey says.

We rush Flowey just as Mom walks in with the pie, which clatters to the floor and explodes into a gooey mess. Fire weaves itself into the palms of her hands, but a cascade of bullets hail through her. Her body shivers from each impact.

“Did you really think attacking me was going to help her?” Flowey asks.

Mom drops to a knee. We shout and stab at Flowey’s smug, nightmarish face with the poker, but his litheness makes him a difficult target.

“Ha….ha….I see now….my child….” Mom says before her form dissipates.

“You’re never going to save her.” Flowey’s eyes bulge with hunger-lust. “Maybe you should choose more carefully who your enemies are. Hee hee hee. Just admit you’ve killed before and I’ll end the torture. Your move.”

Flowey disappears, the living room vanishes, and we find ourselves materializing in the dark bedroom, the length of which we pace.

<!-- What are we supposed to do? We attack Flowey, Toriel dies and we prove his philosophy of “kill or be killed.” We do nothing, Toriel dies. We run away, Toriel dies. How can we keep him from killing her? -->

A rather unpleasant question with an equally distasteful answer.

/* Sometimes it’s better to keep your enemies closer than your friends…. */

We stop with our heels pressed together. Teddy bears, dolls, blocks, and toy trains overflow from the toy chest. None of these toys, however, can solve our dilemma.

<!-- We should tell him we’ve killed? -->

/* He wants to get a rise out of us. If we submit for now, we can wait for an opportunity to gain the upper hand, lure him into a false sense of security. But we can’t give up pushing his buttons entirely or he’ll become suspicious of our behavior. */

<!-- But he’ll keep pushing us to kill if we tell him we’ve done so before. -->

/* We can figure that out later. He’s not going to budge on this. Unless you want to watch Mom die continuously. */

<!-- No, no, I get it. Okay. I’ll trust you on this.  -->

/* Make sure it’s convincing. */

We leave the bedroom and return to the living room, freezing mid-step as a pile of dust greets us, “The Book of 72 Snail Facts” face down and its pages bent from how it fell.

“You waited too long this time, friend,” Flowey says. “You should have known you were on a time limit. I wonder, how long will your Determination last? Will you cave and start killing her yourself just so you don’t have to deal with the pain, or will you watch as I turn her to dust over and over and over?”

Okay, Flowey, you’re right. I have killed during previous Resets. We hold ourself with pride, shoulders squared, back straight. I’ve killed Froggits, Vegetoids, Migosps, and Moldsmals. I’ve gained Toriel’s trust just to stab her in the back, and I’ve cut her down with one blow. But one thing has never changed, Flowey, and that’s the strength of my Determination.

Flowey grins at the conviction empowering our words. The best fibs contain a spattering of truth, but in this case I can’t tell how much is truth and how much is lie.

“I knew you’d see it my way,” Flowey says. “But you’re only halfway forgiven. Hee hee hee. Reload again, and maybe this time I won’t kill her.”

We do so and roll our shoulders before entering the living room for the final time. Mom smiles at us.

“Good morning, my child. You are just in time to eat pie with us and enjoy some facts about snails.” She frowns. “Oh dear, are you unwell? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

I’m fine, just a little tired. Barbs scratch our dry throat as we repeatedly swallow. I...I’ve also thought about what I’ve done. It was wrong of me to step on your face and blame you for my mistakes, Flowey, and I’m sorry for attacking you earlier. I hope you can forgive me.

“Golly, it'd be criminal of me not to forgive you, friend! You already know I’m not one to hold a grudge. An apology was all I wanted.”

Flowey sticks out his tongue and winks.

“I am so proud of you, my child. It takes a lot of courage to shoulder responsibility for one’s mistakes and apologize for them.”

We flash Mom an exhausted smile. Can I have some pie?

Mom retrieves the biggest slice of pie we’ve ever seen from the kitchen. It tastes like dust and imprisonment.

“Um, I’d just like you both to know how glad I am to have you here,” Mom says once she settles into her chair. “I know that if you give each other a chance, you could become friends. Maybe even...siblings?”

“Golly, that'd certainly be nice, wouldn't it?” Flowey says.

<!-- I liked Flowey more when he was just a stalker. -->

/* Hah. Well, whatever may happen, you must stay Determined. We are in this for the long haul, partner. */

Reality

Re: Anomalies

Ness Dink

To: Gentry Itti; Vance Serpere

7/3/18  7:20 PM

Apologies for the late reply. I just got off of work. It certainly seems as though today has been rather active for everyone in the gaming universe. Even the people I have spoken to who hate Undertale have expressed concern over Toby’s disappearance. It is quite the conundrum, but there isn’t much we can do, is there? It’d best be left to the authorities.

I suppose we could livestream. I will run Genocide, since you have already claimed Pacifist in your blog, though I am not looking forward to fighting Sans again, but since there will be plenty of others who will explore the neutral routes, I think it would be good of us to stream the two extremes first.

I think it would be best if we did not race, however. If there are as many new events as Vance has claimed, then we will want to take our time and explore all of the differences.

Bray will also want to study our recordings to come up with her own theories, so don’t get overzealous like you tend to, Gentry.

On 7/3/18, Fri at 6:13 PM, Vance Serpere wrote:

Actually, it is not uncommon for game devs to set up a scheduled time for an update to be released, especially if they’re going to be gone for a while.

Heh, who knows, maybe he faked his own death because of how much of a celebrity he’s become.

On 7/3/18, Fri at 6:05 PM, Gentry Itti wrote:

Vance, buddy! Glad you saw my post. Sounds like you and the other DedRiters have been busy. Crazy stuff, huh? Toby hasn’t updated the game in centuries, then BAM, an update goes out the day he vanishes.

Still can’t get over the fact it’s Friday 13th. I’m not normally superstitious, but this gives me the heebs.

Luv the idea to livestream, Vance. What do you say, Ness? Ready to wipe off the old Undertale livestream accounts and race like we used to?

On 7/3/18, Fri at 5:56 PM, Vance Serpere wrote:

Hey.

So, I’ve run some initial tests that I think you two might find interesting. I suggest livestreaming both of your profiles from here on out because the game gets insane.

It’s easily tripled in size and gameplay, bumping up average time to about 18 hours. At least 12 new rooms have been added along with new enemies and dozens of new objects to interact with. It’s like a completely different game with the same premise and graphics.

I’m going to see what else I can crack, but right now there’s some code that even those more skillful than I cannot access because of some high-level encryption. Dunno what Toby’s been doing for the past 3 years since the game’s release, but his programming skills have rocketed.

Oh, I also looked into the MIRAGES bit you mentioned in your blog, Gentry, and it looks like Room 269 is now off limits until an event triggers. However, it’s become more difficult to edit room values and fun values without hitting a wall. Believe me, my buddies on DedRit are trying, but every time we crack through a bit of code, a firewall goes up to keep us out.