#they hate each other. they have not spoken in a civil manner once. but they do have a weird bond between them than only aromantic people

[dolokhoded]

simon peter is the funniest apostle to work with because in theory he's the most loyal, most by-the-book of the apostles so you'd expect him to be the most logical and collected one but 80% of his concerns (pre crucifixion then everything went downhill and they all died) are that he has a crush on every person he encounters

[xthelastknownsurvivorx]

Freshman Roommates!au

A hc of mine from about a year ago loosely based off of the setup of tharntype bc my current WIP is long and nowhere near done

Alex, Henry, and Pez are all freshmen, Nora is a sophomore, June is a senior (Bea, too, but she’s not in this fic)

It’s second semester Alex’s freshman year, and he has a new roommate- Henry. This is b/c his first sem roommate is studying abroad this semester, and so the new British transfer student is filling his spot.

At first, Alex doesn’t mind Henry. He seems decent enough, maybe a little quiet, but manageable. His sleep schedule is like Alex’s, aka practically nocturnal, yet he somehow can get up at 7 for all his music classes. Alex is happy to sleep through Henry leaving quietly in the mornings. They don’t eat together, but, honestly, Alex wasn’t looking for his new roommate to be his best friend.

However, this all changes in a few weeks.

Alex was relatively well-known and popular among the student body at the small college. While everyone who had made it through admissions was smart, he had a certain charm and way with people that got him invited to parties. It was a pretty logical transition from being prom king and valedictorian senior year of high school. It made sense.

The way that he suddenly began to be compared to Henry does not.

Henry is a perfect blonde-haired, blue-eyed (and god his eyes are blue) well-mannered man with a British accent. He’s an English-Music double major, sentimental but sharp. Suddenly, Alex finds himself being compared to Henry, hears girls giggling over which of the two of them is better, and, inevitably, it’s also Prince-fucking-Charming who wins out.

Alex goes on a tirade to June and Nora about white male mediocrity and the fucked internet phenomenon of how people love vaguely attractive, seemingly unproblematic white men regardless of their talent and how it’s so different for poc.

Henry doesn’t even seem to care that he’s stolen Alex’s popularity, doesn’t care about the girls who stare at him and it’s infuriating.

Not only that, [some misunderstanding Alex has where Henry seems to say something mean to him]

(It’s at this point that Alex starts to treat Henry more coldly and increasingly reaching an arch-nemesis status.)

But when a girl asks him about Henry after hooking up, Alex is done.

He storms up to the residential services desk and asks to switch roommates.

But it’s too late in the semester for a room change. Either Alex has to move out, find someone to switch with, or he’s stuck with Henry.

The first is not an option - his mom made it clear he couldn’t move off campus until at least sophomore year.

The second, he tries. But his mixed floor is half occupied by girls. Then there are the guys he’d never room with. Several options present themself, but they all ultimately fall through for some reason or another.

However, there’s no way he’s gonna keep living with Henry.

Which means it’s war.

Alex is determined to drive Henry out of the room and feels no remorse given [the misunderstanding].

Henry is incredulous at Alex’s first attempt to drive him out of the room.

“Am I offending you? Sorry I’m not obsessed with you like everyone else. I know that must be confusing for you.” “Do you know what? I think you are. … Only a thought. Have you ever noticed I have never once approached you and have been exhaustively civil every time we’ve spoken?”

“Wales, I want you out of this room.”

“I will not.”

They glare at each other for a good long time.

And then it’s on.

It all boils over at a floor event where they (read: Alex’s clumsiness) end up destroying something.

They’re both called into the RDs’ (Zahra + Shaan) for a stern lecture: Zahra with her profanities and Shaan with his long-suffering demeanor.

Eventually, it ends in them punished with six hours of community service, spread over three Saturdays.

The first is full of sworn hate and everything like that. But then at the end of it, either the bus back breaks down or they get on the wrong one/off at the wrong stop/etc. Basically, they’re in a Situation™ and have to work together to get out of it.

Turns out, Henry’s not so bad? (Almost dying together will do that.)

Also, he has a surprisingly sharp wit that Alex kind of enjoys.

At the end of it, Alex calls some sort of truce by inviting Henry to a party (maybe thrown by his frat?) Henry isn’t keen on parties, but Alex insists (as does Pez, later), so he goes.

Then it’s the Kiss™

Idk about Alex having a sexuality crisis or not but yeah

And suddenly Alex can’t get enough of Henry

Honestly, no idea about a villain or particular plot beyond this, I just liked the setup of the story

but basically they do the same enemies-to-friends-with-benefits-to-lovers thing as in canon and their dorm neighbors end up hating them for different noise complaint reasons ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

[cilldaracailin]

Hammer To Fall

Hello my Tumblr lovelys! And here are those few words I know you hate to hear from me, but this is the last part in this story. :( But don’t be too sad. I have another story in the Robyn and Taron series ready to go and I will be posting the first part here and on my AO3 tomorrow evening and its a good one if I do say so myself but then I am very biased and adore my characters (And Taron) a lot!

Thank you so much to all my new followers  *Waves hello*. Nice to meet you all and thanks for being my Tumblr buddy!

Thanks so all who read and click the heart button and comment. Makes me grin like a fool!

Anywhoo, moving on to the story. ( I am Irish and have kissed the Blarney Stone... I am good at talking and was good at it before I kissed the stone and in fact I actually missed the stone so now I am just rambling....... ;) )

3

“A meaningful apology is one that communicates three R's: regret, responsibility, and remedy.”

Taron quickly jumped over the barrier again and started to walk back towards the make-up trailer, not looking to the crew who stared him down as he moved past them, or even behind to see if Robyn was following him. He felt suddenly felt so ashamed of his behaviour and was disgusted at how he had spoken to Robyn and was mortified and embarrassed at his conduct, taking all of his frustrations with regards to the media out on Robyn, rather than being tactful with his rage and emotions. Reaching the trailer, the door still open, he walked up the steps and inside, hearing Robyn following him and the door closing. Turning around to look at her, hating how his heart thought she looked so beautiful when she was so angry with him, he was even more repulsed with his actions and knew a simple sorry was never going to fix the mess he had made.

“Well?” She asked as she stood with her hands crossed over her chest, her whole stance in defensive mode.

“Have you really been getting calls from parents?” He asked her, afraid of what her answer was going to be. He had no idea the words from the story printed online could have had such an effect on her work and job.

“Yes. It has not been very nice trying to clean up the chaos that the article and comments has left for me.”

“Does Emma really not know that you are here?”

“She really thinks I am at home sick in bed.”

“You really flew here to New York.”

“I needed to have my say.”

“Are you going to lose your job?”

“Not if I can help it. Still have a bit of a fucking disaster to fix. Thought maybe after our talk, it might have been easier, but I guess I will be back to fixing my problems by myself.”

Taron pulled the make-up chair out and turned it around so he could sit on it, facing Robyn who still stood with her hands crossed over her chest. He needed to sit down, his legs were shaking so much.

“You had so much to say yesterday, lost for words now huh?”

“Jesus Robyn.” Taron looked up to her and her features were still stuck in a wonderful beautiful outraged look, her blue eyes so dark in colour.

“You also only have about a minute left.”

“Robyn…”

“You expect me to go easy on you Taron? You want it to be nice and fluffy? For this conversation to go something like ‘Oh Robyn I am so sorry that I jumped to conclusions and made you fly all the way to America to fix my problem for me’ and I will reply ‘Oh Taron, that is ok. Let’s go back to the way things were’. I don’t fucking think so. You have hurt me Taron. Literally stabbed me in the heart with your fucking shit attitude.”

“Robyn…” Taron went to stand up but sat straight back down when she started to speak again.

“You immediately came to the conclusion that because my name was there in black and white, that I had to of been the one who wrote that comment. Let me just say, sure it looked very suspicious and maybe before all of this shit I could have understood why you would have thought it was me but if you had of just called me and spoken to me in a proper tone instead of coming at me with your arrogance. You never even gave me the chance to talk to you properly in a civil manner.”

“I know I should have handled it differently Robyn but I was just so angry and to read those words and have the reporters at my home.”

“And you think it was easy for me to see my name associated with those same words Taron? And then to have my best friend turn around and blame me for writing them? In the time you have known me Taron have you ever heard me use such crude and smutty words? Jesus Taron, I know you and I have crossed boundaries and but I have never spoken with such offensive language.” She watched as Taron couldn’t even look her in the eye, his focus on his hands as he played with them. “And that was just the start of it Taron. You said such horrible hurtful things to me. I was only out to get my name lights and I wanted my fifteen minutes of fame. That I fucked you over, causing so much shit for your family and Lyndsey? That I never cared for you?” Taron’s head fell into his hands as he heard Robyn repeat back what he had said to her and he was so humiliated. “All it would have taken Taron, was for you to call me yesterday and explain to me what was going on and ask me rather than shouting at me, accusing me, finding out if I was ok after what was being written online.”

“I am sorry Robyn.” He said, raking his hands through his hair.

“It’s not enough Taron and I don’t think it will ever be enough.”

Taron looked up to her. “Please don’t say that.”

“Can’t you see how one sided this relationship has become Taron? How you need me so much more than I need you.”

“Robyn please, that is not true.”

“In the beginning maybe but now? I don’t know Taron. I just… You are not the same person to me anymore and after all of this shit? I really don’t know where I stand with you. I don’t know if I can trust you.”

Taron was on his feet in seconds and standing beside her. “Robyn, it was a terrible mistake. A stupid fucking mistake where I let my head get too deep into the situation and my emotions run wild, without thinking logically and I know I have fucked up. I know this is my fault, this whole mess and I should have handled it so much better, talked to you properly and waited for Lyndsey before I started all of this shit and I understand that I have really really hurt you so much but please don’t say you can’t trust me again.”

“I have been here before Taron and I have given someone a second chance and I learnt my lesson then. I don’t want to do it again.”

“Robyn…” Taron went to take her hands, but she avoided his and walked around him and down the trailer a bit so there was another gap between them. “The media just fucks with my mind Robyn and I let my own insecurities get to me and when they come for my family, I just don’t handle it well.”

“No shit sherlock but to believe, to truly believe that I would write something like after our conversation Taron. I know how much the media fucks with your head Taron, I was the one who held you tight against me when you had a near anxiety attack in my home. Surely that was enough evidence for you to believe I wouldn’t do something like this, especially when I saw how upset it makes you. Then after our conversation on the beach and the promise we made to each other. You think I was the one who broke it, but it was actually you Taron. You were the one accusing me of not only reading the comments but posting one too. I can support your anxiety Taron and I would always have been there for you with that, but when you attack me with no room for me to protect myself, well that is a different story altogether.” Robyn felt the tears start to drip down her cheeks, exhaustion from lack of sleep and fighting her case finally settling in. “It would have been so easy to avoid all of this. A simple two-way conversation.”

Taron moved closer to her when he saw she was now really upset, his natural instincts to comfort her, but once again she stepped away from him.

“I can’t Taron.”

“Robyn, please.” Taron stepped to her again but she took another step back.

“I can’t.”

They stood at opposite ends of the trailer, Robyn silently crying, Taron’s whole body slumped with defeat.

“I am sorry Robyn.”

“I know but sometimes it’s just not enough.” Robyn sat in the chair that Taron had vacated not moments before, while he took the one that was closest to him and sat on it, his elbows on the counter, his head buried in his hands. His whole body started to shake with soundless sobs and he let his arms cross on the table, his head laying on his arms, ignoring how the position hurt his lower back.

A knock on the door, didn’t even make him lift his head and Matthew opened it and walked up the steps of the trailer, his head poking in the door. “Sorry to interrupt Taron but your phone has been ringing non-stop. It’s Lyndsey. Thought you might like to talk to her.” Matthew hadn’t actually looked into the trailer until he had finished speaking and nearly slipped off the steps and fell backwards when he took in the scene in front of him. The space between the two inside was enough evidence for him to know how bad their chat was going and he placed the phone on the counter and slid it down beside Taron. “I will leave it there for you.” Matthew left the trailer quickly and closed the door, glad to have left the unbelievably tense atmosphere behind.

The vibrations made Taron’s phone make a loud humming noise against the counter and it travelled a little way before he decided to pick it up an answer it.

“Hello?”

“Hey Taron.”

“Lyndsey.”

“Would you like some good news?” Taron grunted his reply to her. “Hey what’s with your best impression of a grouch?” She frowned when he didn’t answer her. “Taron?”

“Robyn is here.”

“Robyn is here? What do you mean Robyn is here?”

“In New York.”

“Wait what? Robyn is in New York with you.”

“Yep.”

“Taron what have you done?” She asked him.

“Oh, you really don’t want to know but probably fucked up the best thing I have ever had going for me.” Taron wasn’t bothered by the fact that Robyn could hear his conversation. As far as he was concerned, he couldn’t do anything else worse than he already had. “So, you said you had some good news for me?”

“We found the IP address of the comment and know who posted it. It was from someone in America and I have your legal team already working on it. We will have retraction of the comment within twenty-four hours.” Taron let his head bang hard off the counter, his entire body giving into defeat. “Hey Taron, this is good news. Maybe a little gratitude?”

He couldn’t find his voice. He couldn’t even thank his publicist for sorting the whole mess out. All he could think of was that if he had of waited another day, one more day before he blew his cool, he wouldn’t be feeling so shit about everything right now. If he had of just kept his bloody temper, he would not only have his worries about the comment solved but still the love and trust from his best friend. He didn’t even notice that his phone had been pulled from his hand until he heard Robyn talking to Lyndsey but he was so caught up in his own self-interest and worries, that he wasn’t even listening to the conversation.

Robyn had seen Taron at his worst, when he was physically hurt and bleeding and she was still furious with him but watching his whole-body crumble against the table, her heart broke for him. She got to her feet and took his phone from his hand, answering Lyndsey’s calls of his name.

“Hey Lyndsey, it’s Robyn.”

“Robyn what on earth is going on there? Is Taron ok? Are you ok? Why are you in New York?”

“We are both ok.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

Robyn sighed. “Just some shit we have to work through Lyndsey.”

“Robyn…”

“So, you found the person who wrote the comment?” She asked, ignoring Lyndsey’s warning tone. “You can get it taken down?”

“And the picture too.”

“The picture doesn’t bother me but the comment is unfortunate. Lyndsey anyway we can stop others from using my name like that? It has caused me nothing but grief.”

“I am working on it Robyn but I can’t promise anything at all.”

“If you could Lyndsey, I know I would very much appreciate it.”

“Has it caused you a lot of problems?”

“Quite a few. Especially with regards to my work.”

“Taron’s involved in it all too I am sure.”

“Plays a part in it.”

“He sometimes gets a little crazy and I am not trying to defend him Robyn. I just know how his brain works and sometimes he does stupid things without thinking.”

“Well when you hear what he has done, you won’t be too pleased with him.” Robyn heard Taron groan miserably from the table. “Lyndsey, I am going to go. You can call Taron later to explain all of this to him in more detail. Thank you so much for doing what you have done so far for me. I very much appreciate how you are trying to take my name out of it.”

“I will always do my best by you Robyn. I wouldn’t have Taron if it wasn’t for you.”

Robyn ended the call and left the phone beside Taron on the counter. As he rested his head on the table, all she wanted to do was put both her hands in his hair and scratch his head to help take his pain and ache away but she was still mad with him so instead she went back to the chair she had been sitting on.

They were used to sitting in silence with each other, enjoying each other’s company but now the silence was filled with so much hurt from both of them, it was unbearable for Robyn. Taron still had his head on the counter, his arms hung loose by his sides as he sat, and she watched as his back rose and fell with each staggered breath he took, his whole body convulsing every now and again with a long broken silent cry he tried to keep in. He lifted his whole body from the table and raked his hands through his hair, his hands covering his ears, his eyes squeezed tightly shut as he tried to catch his breath as some wrenching sobs filled his whole body from head to foot. He made himself take some deep breathes and lay his head back on the table, feeling completely at a loss because the last time he found himself in such a state of panic, Robyn helped him. Now she sat at opposite side of the trailer and she wasn’t even looking at him.

As she sat, she could feel her rage cooling down and all the resentment and flurry of furious emotions start to leave her. She was still unbelievably upset with him and his actions and wished he had of just spoken to her yesterday about everything instead of what he actually did. She stared at his perfect side profile as his forehead rested on the table and hated her heart for reacting with a jump. Everything was so complicated and Taron had made it so much worse but as Robyn’s temper quickly returned to the little dark hole it lived in, she started to try and think like Taron a little and understand why he reacted the way he did. She had never had to live her life in the direct eye of others who constantly judged him and although he conducted himself disgracefully and completely in the wrong way, he was trying to protect his family and himself from any sort of harm. He had told her himself many times when they had been together, that the media was the bane of his life and he would do anything to protect his family and when it came to the press, he lost all train of rational thought. Unfortunately, she had now been at the end of that foolish and unfounded behaviour.

Feeling tears slip down her cheeks, Robyn put her own head into her hands. She couldn’t forgive him for what he had done, the way he had treated to her and spoke to her but she couldn’t walk away from him, even if she threatened to do so. She still loved him terribly. She slowly wheeled her chair over to him so there was only a foot between them, slightly concerned at how upset he was making himself, his body still trembling.

“I just don’t understand why you couldn’t have asked me Taron. You know you can talk to me about anything.” Her voice was quiet and low.

Taron lifted his head an inch off the table so his lay cheek lay on the cool surface instead of his forehead. His body had emptied of all of the energy he had and his head was pounding right at the bridge of his nose and behind his eyes. “I just saw red Robyn. I have no excuse for what I did. I saw the headline, I saw the comment and just lost it. There wasn’t a calm bone in my body that tried to stop me from ringing you and just letting my anger loose on you and I shouldn’t have done it.”

“Just to have asked me Taron would have been so easy.”

“Easier than you flying to New York.”

Robyn closed her eyes, trying not to smile. “I needed to give you a bollocking.”

“You did a perfect job.”

“You were so out of line Taron. You have really hurt me, really hurt me. I thought what we had couldn’t have been broken so quickly. I honestly have given you everything I have emotionally Taron. I have taken so many chances and risks for you.” Robyn started to cry a little. “I just don’t know what I am going to do Taron. You honestly think I could write something so disgusting about us?”

Taron lifted his head from the table and turned his chair to face her. He had seen her cry before, but he absolutely hated that he was to blame for the tears now on her cheeks. “I am so sorry Robyn. I know it is not enough, it will never be enough for you and I cannot explain it or myself or my actions. I can only ask that you do not give up on me or walk away from me because that will just…” He swallowed the lump in his throat. “It will destroy me in so many ways.” Taking a chance, he moved his chair closer to her and reached out his hand to her and though he felt her pull away, their fingertips still touched. “I should have waited until Lyndsey called me back. I should have been a man and listened to my head and not my heart. I should never have spoken to you the way I did, said all those horrible things I said to you. I don’t believe any of them Robyn. I know without a doubt that I am here because of you, that I still owe you everything.” He slipped his hand a little further down hers, so his fingers rested on the inside of her hand. “You were absolutely right about me being selfish and thinking only about myself and how the media will perceive me and my family and it has been that way since we left the 7/11. Sure, I may have rung you to apologise when those nasty comments appeared but it really never occurred to me how much it could further affect you and for your job to now be at risk?” He linked his right hand with her left, relieved that she didn’t pull away this time. “I can help you fix that Robyn. I will make sure to fix it for you. I will get Lyndsey to help you with whatever you need and once this retraction has been made, I will make sure that the media are well aware that you have no connection with anything that is ever written online under your name. I am so sorry for the hurt I have caused you. I sorry for being a complete and utter tosspot.”

She fought so hard not to smile at him, but it was so hard when she could hear the genuine apology in his voice and his offer of help, her lips rose in the smallest of smiles and she reached out to link her other hand with his, feeling Taron grip her fingers extremely tight with hers. “I will not have you ever speak to me like that again, you understand Taron? If you have a problem with me or there is something we need to sort out, we will do it together as we always have in a civil manner with a proper conversation, like two adults. You will never, never ring me in such a rage again accusing me of doing something because I swear to God Taron and on my family’s life, it will be the end of me and you.”

Taron desperately wanted to wipe the tears from her cheeks but didn’t dare take suck a risk when he had only just gotten her to talk to him so gave her hands a little squeeze instead. “I never want to see the hurt and pain in your eyes that I have caused ever again Robyn. I am so so sorry for all of this.”

Taron’s warm hands felt so nice on her cold ones, Robyn inwardly enjoyed the heat from them. “It cannot go back to the way it was either Taron. Not straight away. I haven’t fully forgiven you yet and I am still a little mad at you. We are going to have to work at our friendship and you are going to have to work very hard to build my trust back up again.”

“I will do whatever it is you need me to do Robyn.” Taron spoke quickly.

“The first thing you can do is compose a letter from you with help from Lyndsey and your team that I can email to every parent in my creche to explain the situation and what has happened and how it was not me and that my name, which has been associated with this comment, has nothing to actually do with me. I need some serious damage control back home.”

“It is done. I will call Lyndsey and get it done today and send it to you so you will have it by tomorrow morning.”

“Thank you.” Robyn took her hands from his and scrubbed at her eyes, trying to wipe falling tears away. “I need to get this mess sorted as quick as possible.”

Taron took her hands again and was so glad that she didn’t pull away from him once again, even allowing him to rub his thumbs over her knuckles. “You really flew all the way to New York to bollock me?” He asked her quietly.

“Couldn’t quite get you on the phone.”

Taron looked away from her face, still feeling such shame for his actions. “When do you have to fly home?”

“Nine tonight.”

Taron let go of her right hand and picked up his phone from the counter. It was just before four in the afternoon. He looked back to Robyn. “You actually came here for less than four hours to talk to me?”

“No, I came here to call you out for your shitty behaviour.”

Even though Taron knew Robyn was speaking to him, her words and body language clearly showed him that she was still completely pissed off with him, even if she let him hold her hands. “Robyn, I just… I have no words for you. I can’t even comprehend what I have put you through but I feel like I do need to say some sort of thank you for coming here to sort me out.”

“I came here for me Taron, not for you. I will never let anyone accuse me of something I haven’t done, especially even more so when they won’t let me defend myself.”

Closing his eyes, Taron lowered his head to his chest. He felt like an absolute fool. Robyn had been nothing but a friend to him and he had pushed her under a bus without a second thought. He really had never met a woman like her, who had given her all to help him and although he was completely ashamed and disgusted with his behaviour, he was glad he had a woman in his life, apart from his mother who was ready to reprimand him for this stupid actions and behaviour. It just stung him so much that his normal jolly Robyn was no where to be found in front of him. Letting go of her hands, he used his own to cover his face, so she couldn’t see the guilt in his eyes and the tears roll down his cheeks. He scratched at his face, raking his fingertips down his cheeks before covering his whole face again but he felt his hands being taken.

“You are going to hurt yourself.” Robyn’s voice was so soft and almost a whisper. “Promise me you will never do something like this again and if you are angry at something the media has said that you will talk to me. You cannot behave like this again Taron. I have a feeling that there are going to be so many more of these comments and posts, and you cannot react to each one in this way. I cannot fly across an ocean each time I need to give out to you. You need to call me. It is ok to be angry but make sure you are angry at the right people, not those who love you so much even though you are a fucking…”

“Tosspot.” Finished Taron. “I will and always will.” He looked up to her and sighed glimpsing at last a hint of love that he was used to seeing when he looked at her in her eyes. He closed his own as she raised her right hand to brush a finger down his left cheek, his whole body freezing and his breath hitching as the trail of her finger blazed with fire on his skin.

“You have scratched yourself.” She said simply.

“I don’t care.” He replied, taking her hand from his face. “I am sorry.”

“I know.”

“Robyn, I am really sorry and I promise.”

“I know Taron.” She held his hands in hers, and watched as his eyes, now back to their beautiful green colour, searched hers. “I know.” She repeated.

“Did you bring anything with you?” He asked. “Do you have a coat? Your hands are so cold.”

“I have nothing Taron. I literally came with myself, passport, phone and my debit card and my hands are always cold.”

Taron frowned a little. “I know but they are freezing cold and not just Robyn cold.” He placed both her hands together before moving his own in a backwards and forwards motion on hers to rub some heat into them. “I can get you a coat. It is cold in New York.”

She tried not to show it, but she enjoyed how Taron tried to generate some heat into her hands. Now sitting in the make up trailer with her adrenaline gone, she realised how cold New York actually was and she shivered a little. “You are just in a suit.”

“But I get wrapped in a big fluffy coat in-between takes Robyn.”

She smiled a little. “I like your suit.”

“Better than my midnight blue one?” He asked holding his hands still against hers for a moment before starting to stroke hers again.

“No. That was a fucking spectacular suit.” Robyn did her best with a Scottish accent, enjoying the small laugh Taron gave. “You look good, if not tired and I know you have a headache.”

Taron stared at her. She always could read him so well. “I have no excuses for how I look and the headache is my own fault.” Taron stopped rubbing her hands and linked their fingers again. “I will get something from the medical tent for my head.” Robyn resisted every urge to take her hands from his and reach forward into his hair to scratch his head for him, suddenly desperate to help lift his pounding headache. “And I am going to get you a coat too. You are going to freeze.”

“Thanks.”

“We are going to ok right Robyn?” He asked her so quietly, his eyes searching the floor and couldn’t help the obvious sigh of relief as he felt her right hand on his left cheek, the cold of her palm seeping into his skin and it felt so wonderful. He immediately nuzzled deeper into her hand, trying to steal any sort of comfort from her that she was willing to give him. He placed his hand on hers, keeping the connection on his face, making sure she wouldn’t move her hand too quickly away from him.

“With time Taron.” She gently stroked his cheek. “We will be ok with time.”

The door of the make up trailer opened and Matthew walked up the steps and into the trailer. “Sorry Taron. I have been knocking.” He felt his own relief as he took in the scene in front of him, so glad to see that the atmosphere was clearer, the two looking much more comfortable with each other. “Lunch is over and we need to get started on this scene. I really need to get it done before the light fades.”

Turning his head, Robyn’s hand falling from his face, Taron looked to Matthew. “Yeah sure of course. I will be right there.”

“Robyn is more than welcome to come and watch, as along as she doesn’t try to re-write my script for me. Though I must say, I wish that had of been scripted and I needed a serious confrontation scene because it was epic. Also, I picked up all of these for you.” Matthew took another step into the trailer and placed the yellow post-its on the counter. “Just in case you wanted them. You have two minutes Taron and for one of those Stephanie will be in here to fix up your make up.”

“Thanks Matthew.” Replied Taron, though was inside was cringing a little when his friend and director described the bollocking that Robyn gave him as epic.

The door of the trailer closed and Taron turned to look at Robyn. “You brought my post-its with you.”

“Dramatic effect.” She said simply shrugging her shoulders.

Taron reached over for the post-its. “You want these?” He asked her.

“Please. I will put them back in my scrap book.” Robyn took them from his hands and put them back in her pockets of her hoodie.

The door of the trailer opened and a petite lady with brown hair in a bob walked in. “Taron, heard you need a top up?”

“Please Stephanie. This is my friend, Robyn.”

“Nice to meet you.” The two women shook hands and Robyn went to stand up but Stephanie shook her head. “You can stay where you are Robyn. I am going to stand. Right Taron, let’s have a look.”

The make-up artist, pushed Taron’s chair back a bit so she could stand in front of him and with her hand under his chin, moved his head to check his face. “What did you do to yourself?” She asked him deciding he needed a complete overhaul and fresh face. “You have a scratch on your cheek.”

“Caught myself with a fingernail.” He answered.

“Gonna have to try and cover it Taron.”

“Whatever you need to do Stephanie.”

With quick professional movements, she cleaned Taron’s face of the smudged make up first, wiping the scratch with a cotton wool pad, before she quickly applied the required make up needed for the scene, adding a little extra to hide the redness from the scratch on his cheek and under his eyes. Robyn watched on a little intrigued. She knew he had to wear make-up on set but it was strange watching it being brushed and sponged onto his face and she got a little kick out of it. It took Stephanie about two minutes to get Taron prepped for the scene, fixing his hair into the slicked back Eggsy look with some hairspray and she stood back once she was finished.

“All done and you are good to go.”

“Thanks Stephanie.” Taron stood up and picked up his Eggsy glasses and phone and handed his phone to Robyn. “Would you mind this for me?” He asked her.

“Of course.” Robyn took the phone and followed Taron out of the trailer but stopped once he was down the steps and outside the trailer. He turned around to face her.

“Thanks for coming to sort me out. I needed it. Really needed it. I was a complete arsehole to you Robyn. You didn’t deserve any of what I did and I will swear to keep my promise and make sure that I talk to you and talk to you properly and only with the upmost respect and love that I have for you.” With a step closer to her, Taron placed a quick kiss on her forehead and then turned away from her and with a jog back towards the steps of the park where Matthew and his co-star were waiting for him, ignoring how his head was still pounding, feeling nothing but relief that he and Robyn were on speaking terms again and she had willingly given him a little bit of the comfort he craved.

Now that Taron was no longer in her presence, Robyn felt at a bit of a loss standing behind the scenes on a movie set after storming her way in and making a huge spectacle of confronting Taron on the steps of Bryant Park, in front of the whole crew and cast. She looked down to the ground, feeling a little embarrassed as she could feel many pairs of eyes staring at her. She had been absolutely set in her ways of coming to New York to take Taron to task for his behaviour and although it was still a tense between them, their issues had been talked through a little and she felt a lot better that she got to help him see sense about the whole situation but now that that was done, she realised that everyone had heard every word she had said to Taron and she knew they were a whole lot of people judging her for her own behaviour, even if she felt she was right to confront Taron. She didn’t know what do to now or where to go and looked at Taron’s phone in her hand, swiping the screen saw that it was just after four. She needed to be back at JFK by six to make her flight home, so she had about an hour before she needed to hail a cab to take her to the airport. She swiped the screen again and even though she didn’t want to, she found herself smiling at the picture Taron now had as his lock screen, one of her and him together at Elton’s, both smiling as Taron took the selfie, both of the wearing the same goofy grin on their face.

“Robyn?” He attention was taken from the picture as Matthew walked over to her and in his hands, he carried a large black coat. “Taron told me you needed a coat. You want to use this one that he has been wearing? We don’t actually have another one set.”

“He will need it.”

“He told me you would say that but he is going to be busy filming these scenes on the steps for a while. It’s a quick little fight sequence. It will keep him warm. You take the coat.”

Stepped closer to Matthew, Robyn turned so she could slip her hands into the fleece lined coat, pulling the sleeves up as they were too long for her hands. It felt so snuggly and warm inside and as she fixed the hood and collar, she inhaled, smiling as that all too familiar scent of Taron filled her senses. She turned back around to him. “Thank you. Erm, I am sorry for all the commotion on the steps Matthew. Really sorry. I kind of just barged onto your expensive movie set and took over and let rip and probably ruined thousands of pounds worth of tape or equipment as well as wasting precious filming time. I know your schedule has been so tight especially ‘cos you had to move the whole process because of what happened to Taron but I am just really sorry. Probably not the best time and place but he really pissed me off and he needed to know it.”

Matthew grinned. “Nothing like a woman to put a man in his place and no need to say sorry. I knew something was wrong yesterday and even more so today when Taron stepped on set and screwed up every take. Granted probably not the best place for an argument on the steps of a park in New York city.”

“Oh Jesus, it is going to be all over the news now.”

“Don’t worry Robyn. Completely closed set and everyone has already signed a non-disclosure agreement.”

“Yeah but I wasn’t exactly using a whispered voice. I am sure it travelled down the steps.”

“Hey we are filming a movie. It could have been part of the scene.”

“And me rushing away from the set. Oh, dear God, I have just caused so much more mess for us.”

Matthew took a step closer to her watching as she started to fret. “Hey now. Let’s not start that worrying ok? Like I said, it is a closed set and we are filming in New York on one of the busiest streets. It is really loud here and I doubt anyone heard. Sure, you were angry but you weren’t that loud.” Matthew watched as the young woman in front of him paled. He had complete and utter respect for her, for what she did and very much approved of Taron’s choice of his newest love interest, even if she didn’t realise just yet how her actions showed how much she loved him too. “Hey Robyn, don’t over think it ok? There was a reason you flew all the way here to talk to him and as far as I can tell, a lot of shit has been sorted right?” Robyn nodded. “Ok well look when the filming day is done, you know Taron will be on the phone to Lyndsey to talk to her about this and if you are photographed together, they can say you came to visit him. It’s Christmas in New York. It is easy to make up a story of Taron inviting you out to New York to soak up the atmosphere.”

“Yeah I guess.”

“Let me put it this way, would you rather be photographed here with him and have the shit sorted, or still be at home still furious with him.”

“I would much rather be there.”

Matthew smiled. “Well then, let’s not get too ahead of ourselves ok? I know he can be a pain in the arse and be absolutely frustrating as hell, but deep down he would do anything for you and loves you more than you actually know. Right now, sure it might not look like it, but he does. He will sort it out just like he will sort out whatever else he promised you. So why don’t you come and have a look at the magic of movie making with me. We can watch Taron in action.”

“Yeah alright.”

Robyn followed Matthew to where she had met him first and stood behind the monitor. He called out a few directions to the actors and camera crew and once everyone was in place and knew where they were starting from, he shouted action, the scene on the steps finally playing out the way he wanted it.

It was a treat watching Taron work and although it did spoil a little bit of the movie magic, it was interesting to see how the scene was filmed and she enjoyed watching Taron hit every mark in perfect sync with his co-star. She felt herself gasp a few times as Taron’s character took a few hits, even though she knew it wasn’t real, it really looked like he had been punched in the stomach a few times as well as his face. The hour flew by and she knew Matthew was delighted with the scenes he had captured as he fist pumped the air and laughed and high fived his assistant when he yelled cut.

“That is what I am fucking talking about!” He turned to look at Robyn. “Can you please stay for the entire schedule of the movie to give Taron a good old tongue lashing before he films a scene. Haven’t had a string of scenes run so smoothly in two days.”

Robyn smiled a little. “If it is ok with you, the next time I come and visit him will be for a different reason. I don’t ever want a repeat of today. Also is there any way I can get a hold of Taron quickly please. I need to get back to the airport.”

“Wait you are going back home?” Asked Matthew.

“Yeah. My flight is at nine tonight. I have to be work tomorrow morning at nine thirty.”

“You really only came to talk to him.”

“Yep. Is it ok to take him away for five minutes? Just to say bye.”

“Yeah of course. I will get him.”

Robyn stood as she was behind the monitor, the crew busy running around her and she still really felt out of place, so she stood quietly waiting.

“Robyn!” Taron ran up to her, a little sheen on his face from the effort of acting out his hand to hand combat. “Matthew told me you need to go.”

“Yeah Taron, I have to get back to JFK and there is going to be a lot of traffic.”

He reached for her right hand and linking his left fingers with hers, guided her to a quieter part of the set, where there wasn’t as much activity and they were slightly hidden between two tents. Once he was happy that they had a little bit of privacy he turned to her. “I won’t ask you to stay because I know you can’t, even though I would give anything to have more time with you, just a night.” He slipped his other hand into her free one. “I will do everything and more to fix this Robyn and to stop it from happening again and I will email that letter onto you this evening, once I finish filming, asking my team to help me. I know I have let you down and I know I have hurt you and there is nothing else I can say to explain my actions. I can only offer another apology to you and hope someday you can forgive me for what I have done. I will keep my promise to talk to you as we have always done and not to over react in such a disgraceful manner. I can only hope that in time we can be as close as we were.” Taron let go of her left hand and brushed some strands of her hair that had come lose from her pony tail away. He fixed them behind her ear, lightly touching the hoop ear ring in her cartilage piercing. Last time he saw her it was a small round white diamond. His eyes wandered to her tragus piercing, smiling to see that the jewellery he had bought her was still in her ear. He then looked to her high pony and let his fingers run through the long strands, keeping some in between in thumb and index finger. “Robyn…”

“Hmmm.” She had her eyes on him the whole time, enjoying how he was trying to waste some time by playing with her hair.

“Did you dye your hair pink?”

For the first time she arrived in New York a genuine smile filled her lips. “Maybe. Just a little bit.”

“When did you do this?” He asked looking down to her, a grin finding his lips when he saw one on hers. He didn’t think he would see her smile before she left him and it was such a beautiful sight to see.

“A few weeks ago.”

“Is this because of the hair chalk?” He asked her, pulling the inch of pink hair from her pony tail.

“Possibly. When we were talking about it, I decided to just do it again.”

“I like it.”

“Thanks Taron.”

He brought his attention back to her face and smiled a little sadly. “You have to go.”

“Yeah I do.”

“Robyn?” Asked Taron.

“Yeah?”

“Can I hug you?”

It was a sentence she never thought Taron would ever have to ask her, as he generally just pulled her close for a hug when he felt like it but now he was asking her permission and that hurt her so much more than the pain he had caused from his phone calls and anger towards her. His voice sounded so sad and tentative, his whole body almost curling into itself after he had asked, ready for her rejection.

Without a second thought, she shrugged the big black coat from her body and almost flung herself at him, glad he was able to keep his balance and the two of them standing, his two arms squeezing her tight against him, as her arms wrapped around his shoulders, his going round her waist. He buried his head into her neck, his cheek resting against soft skin that was warm and inviting. He really didn’t think she was going to say yes when he asked for a hug, and moved one hand to back of her head to squish her a little deeper under his chin, giving everything he had to the hug. He closed his eyes tight and sighed when he felt her fingers dip into the hair as his bottom of his head, enjoying as she gently ran her finger tips in soothing circles. He never thought he was going to feel this close to her so soon after everything that happened and every part of his body was tingling.

Robyn loved it when Taron tucked her under his chin and adored the little sigh she heard from him as she started to massage the nape of his neck. However discouraged she was by his stubborn mindset, she would never be able to refuse a hug from him, especially when he had been so honest about his intentions and promise to do his best rather than promising not to do it again. It was an answer she respected so much more than a promise that would have been too hard to keep. They were bound to have their disagreements in the future, but she knew Taron would definitely think before he spoke the next time. She moved her head a little so she could rest it over his heart, hearing it race under her ear, loving how he tried to hold her even closer to his body. With the coat off, she could feel the chill from the late afternoon air but Taron was his usually warm self and his body heat felt wonderful against her, even a little warmer due to the exertion of the scene he was just filming.

“Thank you for my hug.” He whispered into her neck, placing a small kiss on her skin. “Thanks for knocking some sense back into my head too.” He moved a little away from her but kept his arms around her. “I am sorry.” He said in the quietest voice, the words filled with every positive emotion he could find. “And I love you.” He added, dipping his head to kiss her cheek. He lingered a little with the kiss before standing up straight.

Robyn moved her hands from around his shoulders and to his face. She put a little gentle pressure on his cheeks to make him dip his head down. “Don’t you ever, ever treat me like that again.” She stood on her toes, leaned in and placed a kiss on his forehead. “And I love you too.” She replied just as quiet.

It was another tight hug that conveyed enough for them to know that although the air was clear, a lot more needed to be said between the pair when they had more time.

Taron gave her one last squeeze and then let her go. He reached down behind her and picked up the coat. “Bring this with you. It is still really cold and you can use it to sleep with on the plane home.”

Robyn accepted the coat and gladly put it back on, missing the warmth Taron’s body provided her. “You won’t need it?” She asked him as she took his phone from one of the pockets.

“Nah. I think Matthew is going to keep me pretty busy for the rest of the day. I have quite a bit of filming to catch up on.”

“Thank you.” She handed him his phone. “I had better go.”

“Yeah I know. I can walk you to the barriers, help you with the cab.”

“I got it Taron but thanks. You head back to Matthew.”

“Please text me when you are on the plane. I won’t be able to answer it straight away but I will as soon as I can and I will call you once I have sent the email.”

“Ok Taron. So, I will talk to you later?”

“Yeah you will.” Taron had almost called her ‘chicken’ but stopped himself, knowing it was not the right place or time or if that nickname would ever even come back into play. “Have a safe flight.”

Robyn turned and walked away from him, coming out of their little hiding place and making her way through the all the gear, wires, boxes and crew to head back towards the barriers. Even with their hug, their parting was a little strained and awkward and she sighed as she ducked under the barrier to leave the set and mingle in the crowd walking down sixth avenue. They had an understanding between each other and she knew Taron was completely shook by her appearance in New York and the way she had approached him. She didn’t know how it was all going to play out and she had no plan in her mind except to challenge Taron. What she did know was that she was glad he had actually listened to her and listened to her properly, finally understanding how he wasn’t the only one affected by what the media said about them. She was so grateful for Lyndsey and her quick response to the story and was so glad there was going to be a positive outcome for her and her work. A statement from Taron himself circulating to all of the parents would take the heat from her. She stood at the corner of sixth and thirty-fifth street and held her hand out to hail a cab, one stopping immediately. She opened the door and got in greeting the driver.

“JFK Terminal five please.”

“Sure, no problem.”

“Thanks.”

Robyn sat back in the car, snuggling into the coat Taron had given her. She closed her eyes and sighed. One thing she knew and knew for certain was that Taron Egerton was playing mayhem with her emotions and when she left JFK four hours ago she was absolutely sickened by him, but now as she made her way back, she found herself tingling with the usual spark that always appeared when she thought about him. The next time they met up would be a serious test for them and it would either bring them even closer together or push them further apart and away from each other.

[franstastic-ideas]

Beyond a Shadow of a Doubt

Wraithtale AU - Sans and Gaster haven’t seen eye-to-eye for a while now; even small conversations between the two can feel like an uphill battle. When the existence of shadow monsters is revealed to the people of Ebott Town, Gaster forbids Sans to make any contact with them. To spite him, Sans decides that he’s going to become besties with a monster girl – Frisk. He probably could have handled his introduction better, though. Now she thinks you’re a creeper, Sans.

Word Count: 20,600

Warnings: Family drama, some mild body horror, repeating themes of poor self-worth and esteem, and one minor curse that's repeated twice.

It's been fine weather yesterday and today, so we watched the clouds.

It's weather that makes you lazy, and slowly closes your eyes.

It seems it's hard to remember "that" so easily now,

As we've been getting older ever since...

 ~~~~~~~~~~

 "Sans." A familiar stern-sounding voice said from behind him. "Where do you think you're going?"

"well crap…" Sans thought.

Things had not gone according to plan. If they had, he would have been out of the house and far away from the old man before he even knew he had left. But no, Gaster just had to be on top of his game today. Why hadn't he recalled that today was Gaster's day off? Now he remembered: it was because his father didn't bother telling him anything anymore, unless it was about another one of Sans's screw-ups. It seemed like he couldn't do anything right anymore in his father's eyes.

Home was supposed to be where the heart is, the one place in the world where you felt most comfortable and safe. But lately, this place didn't feel like home anymore to Sans.

Sans wanted to retort that it was none of his business, but he was reminded of his younger brother and his sincere and earnest wish for the two of them to get along again, so he held himself back, albeit begrudgingly.

He would try to make this work, if only for him.

"c'mon, sans. do it for paps…" He mentally urged himself to be civil.

"well hiya, pops! didn't see ya when i came through. sure is some great weather that we're having this morning!"

"ok, that sounded fake." Sans could have gagged at his clearly faux overly cheery tone; that didn't sound like him at all.

"Sans, it's eleven thirty. It's almost noon."

"but we're still in the a.m. hours, and if we were at grillby's right now he'd still be serving breakfast, so it's still morning in my books."

Now that sounded more like himself.

"Okay then, let's agree to disagree. Anyhow, you're avoiding my question and I want an answer: where are you going, Sans?"

"i was going outside."

"Yes, anyone with two brain cells could see that!" Gaster was losing his patience. "Allow me to rephrase my previous question – where are you going outside?"

"i dunno. i might go see alph and 'dyne, bro and i might work some jobs around town, i might go to grillby's for lunch…" Sans prattled off everything he thought Gaster wanted to hear and then finished it off with something he knew he didn't want to hear. "pretty much anywhere that isn't here."

Sans had to stop himself from stomping as he made his way towards the front door. When he reached for the doorknob, his father's voice halted him once more.

"…You really hate me that much, don't you?"

"i didn't say that. you know i didn't say anything like that, so quit trying to guilt trip me."

It had taken every ounce of Sans's willpower not to raise his voice; he had already failed Papyrus's request for them to be civil towards each other, and it made him feel ashamed even though his brother wasn't here to witness their latest spat. But he and Gaster had been at each other's throats even more than usual for the past few days and Sans needed to get out and clear his head before he said or did something he would regret, and Gaster himself was making this harder to do than necessary.

He didn't hate his father, but Sans didn't think he could ever love him as he once had.

"You're going out wearing that?" Gaster pointed at his blue hoodie.

"yeah, i am. i always do, don't i?"

"It's 90 degrees fahrenheit. You could suffer from heat stroke wearing that. Take it off."

"i'll drink water." Sans all but growled before swinging the door open and shutting it behind him with a slam.

Once he was out of the house and far enough away, he took a shuddering breath. He had grown so furious that if he had stayed even a second longer, he was sure he would have lost his temper. Nothing looked right to Sans when he was angry – colors and shapes blended together and blurred. He couldn't even speak coherently when his temper reached a certain point.

He hated feeling like this – he felt like some sort of wild animal. No, something that went beyond man or beast.

He remembered the breathing excercises Toriel had taught him.

In. One… Two… Three…

Out. Exhale. Slowly.

Repeat.

He did so until he felt the negative emotions leave his body enough to regain his thoughts, silently sending thanks to Toriel for her assistance even when she couldn't be there. He wouldn't have forgiven himself if someone had come across him and he snapped at them while in that state.

Sans looked down at the sleeves of his hoodie and he couldn't deny that it did feel too warm at times to wear it, especially now since it was summer. Before, he had been reluctant to part with it simply because it was his favorite article of clothing. But now… not wearing it wasn't an option. And Gaster knew that. And yet he had spoken as if he were exasperated with him wearing it constantly.

"no, I'm not taking it off, because i can't! and i wouldn't have to wear it all the time if it weren't for you!" He had wanted to scream.

But deep in his heart, he knew he shouldn't and couldn't place the blame on Gaster. As angry and hurt as he was with him, as much as their relationship had deteriorated, he couldn't blame his father for it.

It was an accident.

And it had been four months since the accident, but sometimes Sans could still feel the wounds inflicted upon him with the same intensity of pain as the day he received them.

 ~~~~~~~~~~

After calming down considerably, Sans had decided to go to Grillby's for lunch after all. He would probably do everything on the list of things he gave Gaster before he left, but there was also something he planned to do that he didn't mention – Gaster would blow his top if he discovered Sans's newest pasttime.

"Hey… look at that guy over there." Sans heard someone whisper not so discreetly behind him – an out of towner, most likely a tourist that dropped in Grillby's as a rest stop before continuing on their merry way, probably to the big public beach a few towns over.

"You mean the one wearing the coat in this weather?"

"Yeah, that one. He ordered, like, three burgers when he clearly doesn't need them. I mean, just look at him! What a fatass."

Sans flinched in his seat, but he chose to ignore them and continue eating.

His burger didn't taste as good as it did before…

"Hey, I think he heard you."

"Do you think I care? I'm just telling the truth. He can't get mad over that."

"Excuse me, ladies." A low, smooth masculine voice interjected – Grillby, the restaurant's owner and one of Sans's longtime friends, had chosen to leave his position behind the counter and intervene.

"Y-Yes?" The first woman stuttered, both out of being caught badmouthing another customer and out of shock from seeing Grillby's handsome face up close – some citizens of the town and smitten passerbys still wondered to this day why he settled on becoming a cook for his profession and not a male model instead.

"I do not condone such behavior within the walls of my establishment, nor outside them if I can help it." His tone was polite, yet firm. "If you cannot act like civilized well-mannered individuals, then please leave the premises and never return."

The lady seemed offended and her company embarrassed, trying to make herself look small in the booth where they were seated. The first woman dug into her purse and slammed some money onto the table then grabbed her friend roughly by the arm and dragged her out the door, muttering a colorful string of curses under her breath that Sans was surprised he hadn't called her out for.

"aw, grillbz, ya didn't have to do that."

"They were being rude. It's restaurant protocol to toss out discourteous and troublesome customers. And… they were speaking terribly about my friend."

"you can't throw out everybody that calls me a fatass, grillbz. it's bad for business."

"Language. And perhaps not, but I can certainly try." Grillby ran a hand through his shoulder length hair, the red and orange waves of locks almost resembling the flickering of flames when in motion. "And I don't care about business when it was none of theirs to be making unwarranted comments on others' appearances, in this case towards you. That's harrassment, Sans, and I don't know why or how you tolerate such actions on a regular basis."

"eh, you get used to it after a while of hearing it so much."

"But you shouldn't have to." Grillby sighed, knowing that this conversation was leading to nowhere, as per usual whenever they entered this subject matter.

Sans received large portions of unwarranted gossip, especially since he returned from college with no degree and refused to speak of why he was back early, deflecting any and all questions asked about the issue. Sans had left the town and was supposed to have majored in the field of science like his father, but he, like many others in Ebott Town that aimed for higher things, ended up coming back. Grillby was one of them as well – he had left town for culinary school, but he wasn't gone long before he set up his restaurant here. Whenever someone left Ebott supposedly for good only to come back, that person became the center of gossip for a while.

But aside from the rumors circulating around him about his sudden departure from college, Sans usually heard insulting remarks about his body or less than positive remarks on his mismatched eyes. Sans wasn't obese or even fat, but he could definitely be considered chubby. Even so, he was nowhere near as lazy as most thought him to be – he could run fast enough to keep up with more thin-bodied friends, and a great deal of what others thought was fat was in fact muscle that came from years of wrestling with Undyne. You don't get to play rough with Undyne like he had and not get some muscle mass out of it.

Then there was his bone structure – he had naturally thick bones. He had first found this incredibly odd and didn't believe Gaster or Toriel when he was told this until the latter had Sans take an x-ray and showed it to him. It seemed so unlikely to him because Gaster wasn't built like him, nor was Papyrus, and from the few dusty old pictures he could find of his mother, she wasn't thick bodied either. When he compared himself to them, he looked like an outsider, nothing like them at all aside from skin color and perhaps his eyes; one of them, anyway.

"i guess every family's got to have a member that's ugly as sin. might as well have been me."

If it had to be himself or Papyrus that was burdened with an undesirable appearance, he would choose himself every time. Papyrus was blessed with all their father's good looks, and Sans was thankful for that. He would never have to deal with what Sans did so often.

That wasn't to say that Sans always rolled over and took the verbal abuse. Definitely not; there were times when his patience was finally pushed to the limit and the beast within was unleashed. The terrified and shocked screaming of those who brought forth this reaction from him was priceless, their expressions clearly showing that they didn't expect him to be capable of running, especially not at such a remarkable speed, and towards them with fists flying.

It was especially bad for the unlucky souls that provoked his wrath when Undyne was also in the vicinity. She would drop everything she was currently doing and not ask any questions at all before happily joining in on the pummeling. The fiery redhead didn't need to ask anything – if Sans was beating the living snot out of somebody, then they definitely deserved it.

If Alphys was also there, she would record the entire thing and then edit soundtracks from shounen action anime over the scene to show it to them later. Mettaton had wanted to upload the videos she collected onto the internet, the fame monster, but Sans immediately denied him the right to do so despite his whining and begging.

Even so, sometimes during the ensuing chaos, if he was also present, Mettaton liked to play announcer, commenting on the big ball of violence that was unfolding around him with increasing enthusiasm.

With friends like Sans had, Grillby wondered why anybody bothered trying to bully Sans anymore. He had seen the compilation video Alphys had sent him – Sans by himself could be an absolute beast when pushed far enough, but Undyne too? And the additional humiliation of Mettaton's added commentery along with Alphys recording and holding cinematic proof of the harasser's resulting beatdown? Someone would have to be an idiot to pick on Sans at this point, and unfortunately, there were still times where he would be surrounded by idiots.

Poor Papyrus – he would always try to put an end to the fighting if he happened to witness or catch wind of it. He disapproved of some of his friends' eagerness to start throwing punches and kicks, believing that violence wasn't the answer. He tried to take the adult approach and pull everyone aside to speak with and scold them on their behavior like the mom friend he was. Of course, the ones who evoked Sans's wrath in the first place weren't the least bit sorry for what they had done; sorry for getting thoroughly thrashed maybe, but not for their continuous unkind remarks that led to the situation in the first place.

Sans and Alphys could be guilted somewhat easily, but Undyne and Mettaton were different. Sans didn't like the disgusting feeling that washed over him once the built-up aggression had faded and his desire for instant karmic retribution inflicted on those who had agonized him had been satisified, and Alphys simply didn't like the idea of Papyrus being upset with her for any reason ever. Undyne, however, would hold firm to her actions, believing that anyone who was subject to the combined forces of her's and Sans's dukes most certainly had it coming. And Mettaton was an enabler when it came to creating drama - he actively encouraged it if said action would bring about a situation or story that he found spicy.

Grillby felt sympathetic towards Papyrus, he really did.

As much as he loved Sans as a friend, he had to admit, out of the whole lot, Papyrus was almost always the only sane man, and that was saying something.

But he also couldn't lie and say that seeing Sans stand up for himself wasn't satisfying, if not incredibly alarming and heavy on brutality.

Sans wasn't a violent person in the slightest normally, but sometimes, a person can only be pushed for so long and too far before they've had enough, he thought…

Grillby studied Sans's face carefully for a few moments, causing the latter to eventually take notice.

"…what? have i got ketchup on my face?"

"No. I was only wondering… it may be none of my business, though I am concerned, but… did you and Dr. Gaster have another falling out this morning?"

"gee, grillbz. now that ain't fair." He shook his head, turning away from him. "ya read me like a book. …how could ya tell?"

"You seem troubled. Your eyebrows were knitted together almost the entire time since you walked in and your posture is tense." He answered, his gaze softening. "Do you need to stay at my place for a while until things settle?"

"nah, i appreciate the gesture, grillbz, but it's fine, really."

"Then would you like some company and perhaps we could discuss the matter? I can go on break and we could talk-"

"nah, nah, you don't gotta do that. 'm ok, don't worry. 'specially not over me." Sans stood up and began pushing him towards the kitchen. "now go on, grillby; you gotta get back to work and i told tori pap and i'd help paint her roof. off ya go, now."

"Sans!"

"bye, grillbz! see ya later! money's on the counter!" He shoved his friend into the kitchen then shut the door, breathing a heavy sigh.

This wasn't the first time Grillby had offered to open up his home to Sans, and sometimes he took him up on it when things in the Gaster household were especially strained, but Sans didn't want to trouble his friend and his own household when it wasn't necessary. There were occasions where it truly had been best for both himself and Gaster's mental wellbeing for the two to distance themselves from one another, but despite his minor meltdown earlier, this morning had not been one of those times of urgency.

Grillby's younger sister Celosia was also in middle school, and that was a busy time for a kid her age. He always felt guilty for intruding into their home during the nights where she had school the next day and probably had homework that was difficult to concentrate on with his presence invading her personal space. Now that it was summer, she might want to invite over some of her friends for the evening or have a sleepover, and Celosia couldn't do that with total peace of mind when Sans was in the room next door having an emotional breakdown and unpacking it all on her big brother.

So it was for the best that he not drag his friend into his personal problems anymore.

 ~~~~~~~~~~

"Now Sans, you should be more careful climbing up those steps!" He heard Toriel warn him from below.

Papyrus had already perched himself up on the roof, helping steady the ladder from up there while Toriel held it from the bottom. Even so, both were chronic worriers and were afraid of him slipping and falling.

"i got it, no need to panic. see, 'm already over halfway there- woah!" As soon as those words left his mouth, he nearly missed a step and teetered backwards, the ladder beginning to wobble slightly.

"Sans!" Both yelled in panic, their grip on the ladder tightening.

"'m fine! probably shouldn't have spoke so soon. better wait 'til i've made it up all the way to start bragging."

"You can still fall from up there if you aren't careful, young man." Toriel reminded him with a cross glare before letting out a fretful sigh. "I'm beginning to regret this. One or both of you could get killed."

"don't sweat it, tori. we've climbed bigger heights than this, haven't we paps?"

"YES, THAT IS TRUE, BUT LET'S NOT TOSS ASIDE OUR OWN WELL BEINGS FOR THE THRILL OF THE CLIMB. AND LET US NOT FORGET THAT THIS IS A VERTICAL ASCENSION AND NOT A GRADUALLY RISING HORIZONTAL ONE!"

"I assume the two of you are speaking of climbing Mount Ebott." Toriel said, turning a glance towards the near impossibly tall snowcapped mountain that loomed over them, the town's namesake and centerpiece. "While climbing up a ladder is different than climbing up a mountain path by a wide margin, both still have their dangers."

Once Sans was close enough for him to reach, Papyrus grabbed him under the arms and hoisted him up onto the roof with little to no effort – his brother was so strong and muscular, it was no wonder the town's kids thought he was great and wanted to be like him when they grew up.

He couldn't blame them at all – Papyrus was just the coolest.

Once he was safely up on the roof, seated next to his brother, he reached for a brush and can of paint and both began to work. Over half of the surface was already painted green and the unpainted sections purple. Toriel and Asgore were going to finish the job themselves, but Asgore was called into the town office unexpectedly for reasons she was sure to hear about later. He didn't want her to finish painting it alone, fearing what should happen if she were to stumble up there by herself, so she called in the brothers for help.

Papyrus was accepting offers for odd jobs around town until he found what he wanted to do in life, and now that Sans wasn't in college anymore, he had to make money for himself somehow. Gaster earned a good income, but Papyrus had wanted to start providing for himself though they lived under the same roof. And Sans wasn't going to allow himself to depend on his father for anything anymore since the accident, so he began to pitch in and pay the bills as well, though less out of a desire to prove himself a mature and responsible adult and more as a gesture to spite the old man.

It was a surprisingly effective countermove on Sans's part – he felt that Gaster inwardly resented him for getting kicked out of college and therefore barring himself from a well-paying job. By adding his own earnings into the house's collective funds, he was effectively telling his father without words that he could indeed support himself just fine without relying on his financial aid, as it was originally Gaster's idea to push Sans towards the college path when he first entered his junior year of high school.

There were days where Sans was actually happy to have gotten expelled, but mostly, he wished he hadn't, even if it was Gaster's desire for him to get a degree and eventually join him in his scientific endeavors. Sans had once loved science and taking part in the experiments he did with his father, but now invention and formulas only brought a bitter taste to his mouth when it once had brought joy.

That's why Sans so often grew so unmeasurably upset with him – despite all that's happened, his father still dropped everything else in his life and ran to science with open arms, even though it ironically costed Sans his college degree, his mental health, their previous family dynamic, and even Sans's entire future.

It wasn't the accident itself that hurt Sans to this day – it was Gaster's reaction to it.

Following this was when Sans began to spend so much time away from the house. If Gaster wanted to spend all his time with his work, then that's exactly what Sans would give him. Gaster had already made his choice, now he'd have to live with it, Sans thought.

The worst part about losing his opportunity for earning the college degree though was that now Sans had nothing to show for himself when people insulted him. Before, where there was a person that shamed him for his appearance, another would fearfully whisper that he was the son of the famed scientist Gaster and he was sure to follow in his footsteps, then the offending person would respectfully back off. During those times, he had felt so proud to be his son.

But now he was just Gaster's failure drop-out son.

Just another comeback kid for the entire town to talk about behind his back.

"the only reason the both of you are so bent out of shape over me going up a ladder is because i'm so fat you think i'm gonna break it."

His inner self-loathing was slipping out through his speech, he realized too late. He told Grillby before he was used to it, but he guessed now that what the woman at the bar had said affected him more than he previously thought. You could only hear something negative about you said to your face for so long before beginning to believe it yourself, even when you knew it wasn't true. And though he was normally easygoing, even Sans wasn't immune to bearing issues of self-esteem.

And Toriel wasn't about to stand for it.

"Sans, we've been over this – you're not fat, you're just-"

"big-boned. i know, i get it." He replied, his response coming off as more snippy than he intended it to and his brush strokes consequently more messy with his soured attitude, which he quickly tried to ammend.

He had been shown his own x-rays plenty of times to know that what she was saying was the truth, but it actually only made him feel worse. Losing weight was something he could do – changing his entire bone structure wasn't.

"Has someone said something to you recently about this?" She inquired, arms crossed over her chest and eyes narrowing as she studied him as closely as possible from where she was standing.

Sans could deny all he wanted, but Toriel's suspicions were already confirmed without him saying a word. There was no use in smudging the facts or concealing anything from her when she was like this – Ultimate Mega Mom Mode, Undyne called it. Toriel was Asriel's mother, but she was also a mother to everyone that knew her. She filled that maternal role that was absent from his and Papyrus's home nearly since they first moved here as children.

And when one of Mama Toriel's children were mistreated, she wanted to know the details first, the who then, and the why later.

Sans murmured something, but it was lost on the wind.

"What was that dear? I didn't quite catch that?" She asked with a heavy frown and a lowered brow.

"…a lady at grillby's called me 'fatass'."

"who was she?" She immediately questioned.

"an out of towner. she's long gone by now. 'sides, grillby ran her off."

"That Grillby is a good boy. He hasn't let his sudden popularity change his core values in the slightest." She smiled, apparently happy with his answer.

Before graduating high school, Grillby had been bullied for having an appearance that was considered 'nerdy'. He was required to wear glasses, and the large round frames he wore then didn't flatter his facial structure. Not only that, but the way he dressed, the way he spoke just screamed 'nerd' to his tormentors. But when he came back to Ebott Town, everyone that knew him, including the ones who had so often went out of their way to make his days miserable, had discovered that he had changed during his absence.

Grillby is now regarded as a chick-magnet, and though he has since forgiven those that used to agonize him, inside, he hasn't, and never will forget what they had done to shatter his self-confidence in the past.

He had graduated when Sans entered his sophmore year, and though the former had changed a great deal physically since he left town, Sans had internally felt a sense of relief when he learned his friend remained the same on the inside upon returning.

"yeah, grillbz is a great guy." Sans readily agreed.

"WAIT A MINUTE – YOU ATE AT GRILLBY'S?" Before he could answer, Papyrus continued. "THEN YOU DIDN'T EAT THE BREAKFAST I MADE FOR YOU THIS MORNING?!"

"no, i didn't. 'm sorry i didn't when you went to the trouble to make it. i just… didn't have time to."

Papyrus always woke up at six 'o clock in the morning, made breakfast for himself, Sans and their father, then once he was finished, he went out for a morning jog that lasted for at least an hour to start off his day. Papyrus was the designated cook of the household, making sure that everyone was fed. They always ate whatever Papyrus served them, but they never ate meals together at the table anymore, always separately.

Sans usually took his breakfast with him if he couldn't eat it in serenity at home, but he had ran into Gaster before he could grab his plate and the ensuing confrontation had made him forget it.

"It's wonderful that someone stands up for you when you won't for yourself." Toriel's voice brought them both back on topic, thankfully – otherwise Sans would have had to explain to his brother just why he didn't have time to eat his lovingly crafted breakfast, and he wasn't looking forward to it.

"tori, it doesn't bother me."

"EVEN IF IT DOESN'T, SANS, IT'S STILL WRONG! HAD THAT LADY NOT LEFT EBOTT AS QUICKLY AS SHE HAD, I WOULD HAVE BEEN FORCED TO SPEAK WITH HER ON THE CONSEQUENCES OF EXHIBITING SUCH POOR AND DISRESPECTFUL MANNERS IN A RELAXED PUBLIC SETTING, GRILLBY OR NO GRILLBY."

"Papyrus is absolutely right, dear. I'm afraid your feelings towards such inexcusable behavior doesn't matter – if you heard the exact same thing happened to your brother or even me, even though either of us said we wouldn't let what was said bother us, how would you feel?"

"i'd still be furious."

"So why should it be any different for us when concerning you?" He then peered over the edge of the roof to find her smiling sweetly at him.

Sans wanted to argue that he was a different case compared to them, but they would only argue and try to make him see otherwise.

So he decided changing the subject entirely and steering the attention away from himself was the best course of action to take.

"so, green, huh?" He asked after a lengthy pause, looking at the paint.

Toriel knew he was trying to create a diversion, but she allowed him peace and answered his question.

"Yes. When Asgore and I married and bought this house, he said he wanted the roof to be my favorite color, so it was painted purple. Now, so many years later, the old paint was chipping away and fading, so the two of us decided it should be painted Asriel's favorite color – green."

"is asriel happy to be out of school for the summer?"

"He's so overjoyed he barely knows what to do with himself or all the free time he has on his hands now. He's out with his friends for the afternoon; Grillby's sister Celosia and… oh, that blonde boy with the spiked hairstyle. I always forget his name and it makes me feel so ashamed because he's Asriel's friend and he's been invited over here so many times that I should know! Oh, but that hair of his… Asriel has been wanting his own cut like that and I've been trying to dissuade him from it. If that's what he really wants, I won't try to stop him anymore, but I don't know if Asriel really wants that specific style or if he's trying to follow some sort of trend."

"if you're wanting to know about fashion trends, i'm the last person you need to be asking." Sans laughed more to himself. "i just roll out of bed like this – if it's stuff about clothes or hair that's popular, it's matt you want to talk to, or, well, mettaton. that's what he's going by now since he got in over his head with that band he started up."

"Didn't you tell me once young Matthew, or rather Mettaton, renamed himself after an angel?" Sans and Papyrus both gave positive confirmations to her question. "But wouldn't that be 'Metatron' instead?"

"yeah. he read it wrong." Sans snickered. "so now he's stuck with a typo for a name."

"WELL, I STILL THINK IT SOUNDS COOL! IT JUST BREATHES STARDOM, JUST LIKE HE SAID!" Papyrus huffed, sending his brother a pointed glare, to which he childishly stuck his tongue out at him.

Papyrus then flicked his brush at him, splattering green flecks of paint on his face. Sans was about to wipe it off on his sleeve, but before he could, a white handkerchief was tossed in his direction. His brother was always prepared – the definite mom that oversaw their group of friends when Toriel couldn't.

"thanks, bro."

"IT WAS NOTHING. YOU WEAR THAT HOODIE SO MUCH THAT, IF IT GOT PAINT ON IT, YOU PROBABLY STILL WOULDN'T WASH IT UNTIL I MADE YOU."

"according to alphys, the main character of any story has to have some kind of wardrobe or piece of clothing that identifies them – this hoodie is mine, just like yours is your red scarf."

"WELL, I SUPPOSE YOU'RE RIGHT…" He hesitantly agreed, toying with the somewhat tattered ends of his scarf. He then gasped. "WAIT – YOU THINK THAT I COULD BE A MAIN CHARACTER? ME?!"

"of course, bro. who wouldn't want to watch a show where you were the star?"

"AWW, SANS! THAT'S THE SWEETEST THING YOU'VE SAID ALL WEEK! GET OVER HERE." Deciding that Sans was too slow, Papyrus shuffled over on his knees, throwing his arms around him and pulling him into a tight hug.

Sans happily returned the gesture – he's had an awful day so far, but a hug from his bro always made a horrible day better.

Papyrus suddenly recoiled and stuck out his tongue with a loud 'bleh'. "EW! YOU SMELL LIKE GRILLBY'S! I'VE CHANGED MY MIND - GET AWAY! GET AWAY!"

"aw, come on, bro. don't be like that." Sans grinned widely, holding out his arms and shuffling towards him while Papyrus moved in the opposite direction.

"KEEP YOUR DISTANCE FROM ME, CONSUMER OF GREASE!"

"but i love you so much, bro. c'mon, a little elbow grease is good for ya."

"NYEH! THAT PUN WAS HORRIBLE! JUST TERRIBLE! ONE OF YOUR WORST ONES YET!"

"you sure? 'cause i'm starting to think you might be a bit fried and prejudiced against my jokes."

"EUGH, NO! WHAT HAVE I STARTED?"

"nothin'. just one whopper of a pun, that's all."

"SAAAANS! IF YOU WON'T STOP YOUR PUGNACIOUS PUNNING, I'LL JUST HAVE TO PUT AN END TO IT MYSELF!"

"go ahead, hit me with your best shallot."

"NYEEEEEEEEH!" Papyrus lunged for him, attempting to cover his mouth to block the endless stream of bad puns from escaping.

"Boys!" Toriel called from down below, the pair hovering a bit too close to the edge for her liking. "I can understand the sudden need to initiate a brotherly round of roughhousing as much as the next person, but my nerves would be far more at ease if the two of you would wait until you were standing on solid ground to do so, and instead put your current focus on staying a-chive while up there."

"MRS. DREEMUR, HOW COULD YOU?! I THOUGHT WE HAD AN UNDERSTANDING!" Papyrus fake wept dramatically, but backed away a safe distance from the edge as requested of him.

"yeah, paps. better move back some before we make a mis-steak that'll cost us our lives."

"YOU SAY THAT, BUT YOU'RE ACTING LIKE YOU WANT ME TO THROW YOU OFF THIS ROOF!"

He reached over to snatch at Sans again, but before he could, he slipped and lost his balance, falling directly on his brother with a loud cry of alarm. Once again they heard the worried shouts of Toriel below.

"Sans and Papyrus Gaster!" Oh no, she had brought out the last name. "If one of you stumbles off that roof and the impact doesn't kill you, then so help me, I'll strangle the both of you myself!"

"yes, ma'am! sorry, ma'am! won't happen again!"

"YES, MA'AM! SORRY, MA'AM! WON'T HAPPEN AGAIN!"

Their tomfoolery immediately ceased and the two continued diligently painting the roof as they had before.

 ~~~~~~~~~~

"I'm so sorry for shouting at you like that, dears." She apologized once the two were finished and on safe solid ground. "But I don't know what I would have done if anything had happened to either of you."

She stole a glance at Sans's covered arms and said quietly, her voice dropping down to a whisper that only he could hear. "We've already suffered one tragedy. One is plenty enough."

He broke eye contact with her to wordlessly tug at his sleeves.

"Do they still hurt? Have you been using the balm the doctors prescribed to you?"

"yeah, i've been using it. and, no, it doesn't hurt." But while subjected under her caring gaze, he found that he couldn't lie to her. "…not as much as before."

She gave him relieved smile, happy that he decided to be honest with her. Before Papyrus could get too curious as to what they were talking about, Toriel decided to produce a distraction.

"I made lemonade earlier, and I think you boys have earned it after a job well done."

A short while later, the three were sipping on their drinks under the shade of her expansive front porch. During the evening, she liked to come out with Asgore and watch the fireflies dance about. She looked again towards the massive mountain.

"Sans? Papyrus? You mentioned earlier that the two of you occasionally climb Mount Ebott?"

The two of them nodded.

"Have you seen anything peculiar of interest?"

"…like what?"

"SANS GOES UP THERE MORE THAN I DO, SO IF HE HASN'T SEEN WHAT YOU'RE VAGUELY REFERRING TO, THEN I CERTAINLY HAVEN'T."

"Oh, just, you know… anything unusual."

"…ooohhh. you're talking about the wraiths, aren't you?"

"Well, not especially. I really did mean anything odd at all."

"well, if we're talking about the wraiths, than no, haven't seen 'em."

"I SAW A WILD GOOSE THE OTHER DAY. IT HONKED AT ME AND CHASED ME FOR A REALLY LONG TIME! I THREW A PIECE OF LETTUCE FROM A SANDWICH I HAD PACKED FOR LUNCH AT IT AND ITS ATTENTION WAS SUCCESSFULLY DIVERTED! ANOTHER SPECTACULAR VICTORY FOR THE GREAT PAPYRUS!"

"crazy bird." Sans shook his head, taking another sip of his glass before asking, "why'd you wanna know if we saw anything?"

"Because lately, a significant increase in sightings have been reported. Of the wraiths, I mean. I thought that if you two were walking the mountain trail, you may have seen something."

"nope. we haven't seen anything like that, have we, paps?"

"NO. JUST THE OCCASIONAL UNREASONABLY ANGRY BIRD."

"I see. I suppose that being pursued by a territorial goose is enough of a sight."

"do you believe in them, tori? i mean, they're just supposed to be old town legends, right?"

"I honestly don't know how to answer that question. It's true that people have lived in this town for centuries, and the existence of these shadow creatures hasn't been proven. They're even supposed to be highly skilled practitioners of magic. Magic! It all sounds so fantastical, it would be logical to believe it as pure fiction. And yet, so many have seen something up in the mountains that resembles those monsters of lore throughout the years, and their accounts all being so similar to one another with very little deviation." She breathed a relaxed sigh, sinking further into her rocking chair. "I guess I don't have a clear answer. But I do know that there are some things that science or logical reasoning just can't explain away, and I suppose the wraiths are just one of them. We may never know, and perhaps it's for the best it stay that way."

"FOR THE BEST? WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT?"

"because think about it, paps. if someone proved that the mountain had monsters on it, what do you think would happen?" Sans didn't give his brother a chance to answer before continuing. "they'd either be captured for experiments or killed on the spot. that's how it always goes in the books and movies, and art imitates life and life imitates art."

"…MAYBE THINGS WOULDN'T HAPPEN THAT WAY IF THEY WERE DISCOVERED BY THE RIGHT PERSON! IF THEY EXISTED, THAT IS."

"maybe. but that person'd have to be something special. most would kill something like that without a shred of hesitation."

He decided not to mention the more malevolent legends surrounding the wraiths – the ones where, if they caught you, they would eat you from the inside out and then inhabit your corpse in order to impersonate you.

After reading about those tales, Sans wondered how many innocent lives were taken when, many years ago, villagers were said to have burned anyone alive who went into the mountains and returned acting strange, believing their body had been abducted by a wraith.

As a child, his bullies had always told him he would never have to worry about a wraith wanting to steal his body, because you had to have a life in the first place for them to take, and his face was far too ugly for even a monster to desire.

"What about you, Sans? Do you believe the wraiths exist?" Toriel asked, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"i dunno, to be honest. i guess if enough evidence piles up, i will, but right now they still sound too much like something adults made up to make sure their kids stayed off the mountain so they didn't get eaten by bears or something." He took another sip of lemonade and chuckled. "now muffet, she definitely thinks they're real. that girl should have went on to be a cryptozoologist instead of working in her family's bakery, but she does make a mean blueberry muffin. she's gone up in the mountains for years and sometimes she comes back saying she saw something."

"Do you believe her?"

"i believe she believes she saw something, if that counts. muffet wants to see something so bad that maybe her eyes might be playing tricks on her."

"I think one's attitude towards the legends might have a lot to do with it. There are even some that travel to Mount Ebott with the sole purpose of trying to capture one on film. Almost all of them leave disappointed, but i have seen on the television some nights before in the past where one will get a photograph or video of a shadow that could be perceived as a wraith. Although, picture editing softwares exist now, don't they? So it all could be faked. This old lady doesn't know anything about modern technology - I still don't understand those me-mes you kids send me sometimes on the cellphone."

"it's pronounced 'memes', tori!" Sans actually laughed, almost spitting out his drink.

"Is that right? I've been pronouncing it wrong this entire time."

Suddenly Papyrus's cellphone went off, the familiar lyrics of Caravan Palace's 'Black Betty' filling the once relatively quiet space around them. He quickly picked it up and squinted at the screen.

"IT'S A TEXT MESSAGE. FROM UNDYNE! SHE TURNED ON HER LOCATION…? …SHE SAYS IT'S AN EMERGENCY! AND SHE NEEDS ME OVER THERE RIGHT AWAY!"

"You had better run along then and see what she wants." Toriel chuckled.

"AND I WILL! THANK YOU, MRS. DREEMUR, FOR THE DELICIOUS LEMONADE! I MUST BE OFF, FOR I AM NEEDED ELSEWHERE!"

With that, Papyrus jumped up and performed a backflip off the porch railing, landing perfectly on his feet an impressive distance away and sped off in the direction of the location Undyne had told him she was at, leaving trails of dust behind him in his wake.

"Will you be joining him? Wherever it is he's going?" Toriel asked Sans, who had moved from where he had been lounging in her hammock to sit up.

"maybe. i dunno. with undyne, an emergency can either mean anything from 'this guy is trying to rob somebody, let's pulverize him into oblivion' to 'hey, come watch me suplex this entire boulder'."

"I see. In that case, if you aren't leaving, then might I talk to you for a bit?"

"…what about, tori?"

"There were a few things that I wanted to ask you earlier, but Papyrus was here, so…" She took a deep breath, then let out a long sigh, her gaze both remorseful and sympathetic towards him for what was about to be said. "It's about you and Dr. Gaster."

"i figured as much." Sans replied flatly, then thought, "of course it had to be about that. i really don't wanna talk about this right now…"

While he had occasionally unloaded some of his familial issues onto Grillby when he just couldn't keep his inner turmoil locked away anymore and Grillby was persistent enough in getting him to open up, Toriel was his primary listening ear. The difference between the two was that when Grillby managed to convince Sans to air out his feelings, he gave as vague details as possible. He knew his friend only wanted to help; he would listen to his complaints without judging him and wouldn't spread what he heard around town, but there were just some things that occurred between him and Gaster that Sans didn't feel comfortable repeating.

Toriel, however, was a different case. She was easy to talk to, her gentle maternal aura unconsciously coaxing him into freely speaking what was on his mind on more occasions than he would have liked. She too wanted to offer her assistance in some way, even if all she could do was listen to his troubles, but he didn't want to bother her or anyone else with what he saw as trivial and petty matters. What went on between him and Gaster was solely their problem; not Grillby's, not Toriel's, not Undyne's, Alphys's, Muffet's, or even his brother's, San's believed. He and Gaster had gotten themselves into this current sad state of affairs themselves, and if their relationship was meant to be repaired at all, then that was something that could only be done by themselves.

Unfortunately, Toriel had become involved in the mess the two had created before it even truly began. When Gaster had taken him to the hospital that fateful day, it was her that treated Sans's wounds – she, his father, a few select staff at the hospital, and Sans himself were the only ones who presently bore knowledge of what his bare arms looked like. After the accident, he chose to conceal them from view to avoid any scrutinizing stares, even as the temperatures gradually began to climb. Not even Papyrus had seen the horrifying mess of burnt flesh that lied underneath the cloth.

He didn't want Papyrus to see that – Sans himself didn't want to see his arms whenever he was forced to take off his hoodie in order to apply medicine on the wounds, bathe, or change clothes.

"I didn't want to bring this topic up for discussion with Papyrus present. I know he means well, and please do not take offense for me saying this, but I feel as though he tries much too hard to force change."

Sans's sole reply was a low hum of acknowledgement; Toriel was right – he meant well, but Papyrus was rather pushy when it came to helping people with their problems, and Sans himself was no exception to this. Papyrus was a good listener, but he always wanted to help fix the problem after being informed – he was a person who wanted to see action being put towards the issue at hand with his own eyes and he expected immediate results.

His brother just wanted to help him in the only way he knew how. More so than anyone else, even Toriel with her infinite motherly doting. But Sans just couldn't let him see what he was trying so hard to hide from the eyes of the rest of the world, his physical and mental scars, even if it did mean eventually upsetting Papyrus.

Sans did everything he could for him, whether Papyrus was aware of it or not. Whether that meant anonymously slipping an extra twenty dollar bill into his wallet when he was a few bucks short of buying something he really wanted at the time or staying up until three in the morning listening to him prattle on for literal hours about his latest crush.

Sans would do almost anything for Papyrus. Nearly anything to preserve that smile that always brightened his day, no matter how terrible.

There was only one thing he could think of that he couldn't allow Papyrus.

He could pretend that everything between him and Gaster was fine, he could put on a fabricated smile and spoon feed him fake reassurances that things were getting better when they weren't, but the one thing Sans couldn't do for his brother was let him know just how broken up he really was, inside and out.

And while Toriel didn't approve of his evasive maneuvers against what she saw as procedures and methods that were supposed to be aiding him towards the process of healing mentally, she understood all too well why Sans would want to hide his serious personal affairs from Papyrus.

"One day you will have to let him in, Sans; let him know what's wrong and how you truly feel. You know that, don't you?"

"mmmnn…" His answer came in the form of an unenthusiastic and noncommital grunt.

"But I can't force the two of you to talk; it wouldn't be right, just as it isn't right for him to try to force you and Dr. Gaster to spend an extended duration of time with each other alone."

"i think maybe paps thinks that what's been going on between me and him can be solved with one talk and a hug, and then everything will go back to how it used to be."

"That's an unrealistic expectation. A familial dispute such as this could take months, perhaps even years to properly mend. And that's alright. Because healing of any kind takes time depending on the size and severity of the wound. Just like your own, Sans."

"…i lied to you earlier, tori." His voice had dropped to a whisper. "they still hurt. they still hurt a lot."

She took his hands in hers, giving them a squeeze. "I know you don't believe me when I tell you this, but it will get better." Her palms moved up to his lower arms, almost causing him to flinch from the contact. "The pain you're feeling right now will gradually fade."

He couldn't meet her eyes. "…but they won't ever go away, will they?"

This was a question that he had already asked Toriel before, one which he already knew the answer to since long before now.

But it didn't stop him from hoping, that just maybe it was possible that-

She frowned, fighting the sting of tears that threatened to form in her eyes as she gingerly traced over his sleeves. "No. Not in the manner that you wish them to. We… did the best that we could at the time, Sans. I'm so sorry we couldn't do more for you…"

"i know that. and i'm grateful for all you've done to make this bearable. it's just… one of those things that won't get any better, no matter how much time passes." He shrugged, trying to save face by acting unaffected. "maybe the same could be said about me and gaster."

"Maybe not and maybe so. But mutual effort is needed in order to bring about a change."

"i am trying, tori!" He suddenly snapped, taking a step back. "papyrus keeps telling me over and over, 'TRY THIS TIME' and i always do! but just about every single time we try to have what should be a short and civil conversation with each other, one of us ends up saying something to make the other fly off the handle! the both of us should just back off then, but no, it just gets worse and worse because neither of us will shut up! and what gets it all started in the first place is almost always something that's so stupid to get so heated up over when it's all said and done and we're thinking back on it later. and it's just getting worse and worse as the days pass by!" Sans suddenly slumped where he stood, his volume dropping to a defeated mutter. "sooner or later, we're going to stop coming to the realization that what we were even shouting at each other over was stupid to begin with. …why do we argue so much about things that are completely insignificant and have nothing to do with the actual problem? gaster's mad at me for getting kicked out of college and ruining my own life and i'm mad at him because… his crazy experiments got me hurt and he went right back to wanting me to work with him in the lab again like nothing happened after."

Toriel didn't say anything for a while. Sans had wandered over to her garden bench and sat down, his clenched hands grabbing fistfuls of his hair as he stared without emotion at the ground. He had completely shut down for the moment. It had been a while since he had done this, but she knew what to do. She found it was best to let him come back on his own terms, let him sort out the chaos in his head.

She would stand by and wait quietly until then.

He didn't stay like this for long. He never did. She had been counting down the minutes on her watch. Four minutes of silence from him when finally, he murmured,

"gaster loves his work more than he ever loved me. …i know he loves us, but he loves his work more. paps and i just can't compete with it anymore."

"What makes you believe that he loves his work more?"

"aside from the fact that he tried to get me back in the lab so soon after i'd been released from the hospital? i… started noticing things after i came home for good."

"What sort of things?" Toriel questioned cautiously.

While Sans had spoken of his continuous quarrels with Gaster whenever she could persuade him to talk, he had never once told her about anything pertaining to details he had picked up from the doctor following the origin of their disagreements. She was breaching new territory.

"back when i first started working with gaster, we spent a lot of time together. in and out of the lab. it was fun then, but at the time, i didn't really think about how papyrus felt about it. he never got good grades in the science classes in school, you know, but i did. i think me and alph got the highest scores out of everyone. but lately i've started to wonder if papyrus actually felt left out. because gaster was so focused on me, he didn't pay all that much attention to him anymore. …and i didn't either. not as much as i did before. when i stopped going to college and after we got into that fight, the really big one that kind of started all these smaller ones between us, he stopped talking to me too for a while. it was like i didn't even exist, like i was a ghost in my own house."

Toriel had to bite her tongue to keep from saying anything.

She truly did want for there to be eventually, one day in the future, a happy resolution to the Gaster family conflict. However, while she tried to remain neutral to both parties on the outside, on the inside, she leaned more towards favoring Sans's point of view on the things that went on in the household. She knew that the doctor loved both his sons and was trying just as much as Sans was to make things right, in his own misguided way, but Toriel couldn't stop herself from feeling a bit cross towards the doctor and placing the blame on him for this entire debacle.

Gaster was a man of logic and reason. Displaying and successfully evoking the more tender emotions residing in his heart came difficult to him. Sans could repeat to her every single word said by Gaster in each one of their arguments they had in these past few months and she would probably find herself capable of translating just what it was he had actually wanted to say to his son, but it wouldn't mean a thing if it came from her mouth and not his.

As much as she wanted to go off on Gaster herself on some instances after seeing Sans so miserable, Toriel knew the last thing she needed to do was encourage the two to emotionally stray further away from each other by widening the gap between them with her own biased opinions and personal feelings on the matter.

"Sans, you have nothing to feel guilty for, if that's what this is about." She rested a hand on his shoulder, sitting down next to him. "I know you well enough to believe that you truly have been putting in your best effort to make amends with Dr. Gaster. And sometimes simply that is enough."

"isn't there anything i can do to make it better though, tori? i'm so sick of fighting with him."

She thought for a few moments, then shook her head with a resigned sigh. "I'm afraid I don't, dear. I've never seen a case quite like yours and the doctor's… Asgore and I have had disagreements before, everyone does, but they never lasted long and we always grew closer afterward. During those unpleasant times, when our feelings of anger burned bright, we kept our distance from each other until we were ready to talk again. So perhaps what you are doing now is best."

"but what if he wants to talk and i'm not ready to?"

"Then tell him. Just say, 'I'm sorry, but I don't feel ready to talk yet'. If he continues to pursue the subject, then he is the one in the wrong at that point and you have right to feel upset. …I must say, I think you're handling this far more maturely than most would in your situation, Sans."

"you really think that?" He lifted his head to look up at her with wide eyes filled with disbelief.

"I wouldn't have said so if I thought differently." She let out a light chuckle, gently ruffling his hair. "You recognize when you've done wrong and feel remorseful, seeking to amend your past mistakes and readily admit to when you were wrong once the fire has died. Not many people are like that, instead choosing to stick fast to their hateful words that were said in a moment of anger out of pride. You even had the courage to walk away instead of staying to fight, even though some would unrightfully claim that doing so was cowardly. there is absolutely no shame to be found in walking away from an unpleasant situation."

"thanks tori, i… actually feel a little better now." His own words surprised him, his chest truly did feel a bit lighter than it did before. "but how did you know gaster and I got into it earlier?"

She bit her lip. "Because I received a text message from Asgore. Dr. Gaster appeared at town hall suddenly and the two have apparently been talking with each other ever since. Gorey told me from the sound of things, it seemed like the both of you had another argument."

"oh, that explains it then." He said after a beat, a sense of relief falling over him – he had thought someone in town passed by their house and somehow eavesdropped, then decided to gossip and it reached Toriel's ears.

"You know, they've known each other for years. They've been the best of friends since even before Asgore and I married. You of course weren't born at the time, but the doctor was Asgore's best man at our wedding and Asgore at his. Asgore still talks about their wedding, your father's and Miriam's."

"…gaster never told me about any of that stuff."

Sans and Papyrus didn't know anything about their mother. Gaster never spoke of her and she had died when both brothers were small, Papyrus being two years old and Sans five. Try as he might, Sans couldn't remember a thing about her. The only evidence of her ever existing were some old photos Sans had managed to smuggle out from under his father's nose, the ring she had once wore now stowed away in its box inside their house, and Sans's left eye.

Both brothers even existing was proof enough of their mother's existence; her hair color which they shared was the color of snow, but white hair existed in both their maternal and paternal family trees. Sans's left eye, that startling shade of light blue, came solely from her. There were times when Gaster wouldn't even look him in the face because of his heterochromia, and when Sans was furious, sometimes it was as if Miriam was haunting him from beyond the grave through her oldest son.

Sans took out his phone from his hoodie pocket. "i had better go see what it is that undyne wanted, just in case it really was something important. 'm sorry for suddenly blowing up on you like that, tori."

"It's alright, Sans. I know you didn't mean to and you're carrying a great amount of stress on your shoulders, but if it helped you to feel better by even the slightest amount, I would stand here and permit you to shout whatever was on your mind at me for as long as your voice would allow."

"you're too good for this sin-filled world, tori." He spoke after a pause, having raised his arms up about halfway, wanting to request a hug from her but too shy to ask despite the fact that this woman practically raised him and loved giving and receiving physical gestures of affection.

Thankfully, years of knowing him had made it easy for her to read his body language. She swiftly swept him into a comforting embrace and whispered,

"I know that this world is filled with unspeakable horrors, but I've found that life is also abundant with many indescribable blessings. Please, no matter how difficult life may become for you, never forget them."

Once again, she was right, he could admit to himself. He may have an emotionally distant father and an unattractive body, but he had been gifted a group of friends that actually cared for him and the best brother than anyone could ever ask for. If he remembered those things, the bad points of his day became more livable.

After she released him and he her, she slipped a small wad of cash into his pocket. "For the roof – you're helping to keep the household up now and the bills aren't getting any cheaper."

"thanks, tori. …for everything."

"Anytime, dear. Now run along and see what Undyne wants before she hunts you down. You wouldn't want that to happen, would you?"

Sans winced, remembering the last time he had dared to brush her off.

Piledrivers. Lots and lots of piledrivers.

He turned towards the direction Papyrus had taken off and his phone buzzed; Undyne had sent him her location. Good, it seemed as though he wasn't in hot water with her, otherwise she would have just ignored his text and hunted him down, as Toriel said.

She and Papyrus were down at the riverbed, but she gave no details about just what it was they were doing down there and why she had texted Papyrus saying there was an emergency.

Oh well. He supposed that he would find out when he got there.

 ~~~~~~~~~~

"SANS! Do you have ANY idea how late you are?!" Undyne barked as soon as he came into her line of view.

"i didn't know i was supposed to show up…?" He offered with a small shrug. "you sent the text to my bro, not me, so how was i supposed to know you wanted me here too? i just thought i should show up since paps said you told him it was an emergency."

"Oh, don't give me that crap!" She stomped over and jabbed a finger into his chest. "and it is an emergency! Haven't you heard the news?!"

"uh…?"

"The town police has been talking about it ALL week – the shadow monster sightings up in the mountains have been CRAZY lately! Chief of police said that if somebody could catch one and bring it back to the station, there'd be something good in it for them! Do you have ANY idea what that means, Sans?!"

"uh-"

"IT MEANS UNDYNE MIGHT FINALLY GET TO BE AN OFFICIAL MEMBER OF THE FORCE IF SHE CAN PULL IT OFF, WHICH I BELIEVE SHE CAN!" Papyrus answered for her, causing her to whip her head in his direction.

"PAPYRUS!" Undyne yelled, jumping over to him and grabbing him into a head lock. "Don't interrupt me when I was just about to tell him myself! …But thanks for the confidence – really appreciate it!"

"IF YOU APPRECIATE ME, YOU WOULD STOP NOOGIE-ING ME!" He nearly squealed, trying to break out of her hold.

She quickly released him and bounced back to Sans.

"I've called up Alphys and Muffet for help in planning this whole thing out. Alphys is gonna help me track one down and Muffet probably knows more about those things than everybody else in town put together! They're late too, but they're supposed to be here any minute now. The only reason why I haven't noogie-d you into the next dimension is because you happened to show up before they did, so consider yourself lucky, punk!"

"then, uh, what's mettaton here to do?"

"Mettaton? I didn't invite hi-" She noticed his gaze straying to over her shoulder and turned around, then exclaimed, "Oh HECK no!"

"Oh heck YES, darlings!" Mettaton retorted, stepping forward with Alphys and Muffet following behind.

"Why are you here?!"

"Well that certainly is a rude way to greet an old friend!" He huffed, sticking his nose into the air and crossing his arms. He cracked open one eye, "But since you're so curious, I was over at Alphys's house when you texted – she's helping Blooky and I with our band, you know. Audio equipment, technical stuff and such and all that jazz. When I heard that you wanted her, Sans, Papyrus, and even Muffet to come here, but not me, well… I simply wouldn't stand for it! …So here I am, in the flesh. Uninvited, but fashionably late, as per usual."

"…And just what is 'even Muffet' supposed to mean?" Muffet stared at him with narrowed eyelids, a sweet smile on her face but the danger that lied under her expression was evident to all. "I'm beginning to believe that I am unwelcome among this circle of friends. Perhaps I should just go and-"

"No, wait!" Undyne shouted, bowling over Mettaton to reach her. "Don't leave! He's the one that wasn't invited, not you! And I really need your help with this, Muffet."

"Alright, since my company means so much to you, I suppose I can stay for a while…" She giggled, her mood doing a complete one-eighty degree shift.

"Okay, now that everyone is here, plus the unexpected and unwanted addition of Mettaton-"

"Hey! What did I ever do to you?!"

"Let's get down to business." Undyne walked over to a tree stump by the water's edge and raised one foot to rest on it. "…So, how are we going to pull this off?"

"Y-You mean you called all of us here and you have no idea what you're doing?" Alphys asked, gobsmacked.

"Well DUH, if I had any idea on what I'm supposed to do, I wouldn't have bothered dragging you all to this spot." Undyne looked at them as if they were the ones wasting her time. "Mount Ebott is HUGE. Like… REDONKULOUSLY huge. Finding one of those shadow monsters would be like finding a needle in a haystack, if the haystack was the size of… I dunno, a whale or something? Anyway, I hate to admit this, I mean REALLY hate it, but I can't just go tearing up there looking for something that's lived there its whole life and knows the place better than I ever will and all the places it can hide. It's a mission bound for failure if I go up there unprepared – I gotta be smart about this. So, that's where all of you come in."

"…uh, undyne?"

"Yes, Sans? What is your question?"

"you do realize that you're talking about catching a creature that isn't supposed to exist, right? i didn't know you believed in them."

"I didn't until the guys at the station started talking about them! It STILL sounded completely bogus to me until all these supposed to be really credible eyewitnesses started showing up at the station and Gerson and the rest started passing around the pictures those people turned in. I saw 'em with my own two eyeballs and they looked real, not like those computer edited photos they show sometimes on the TV. I even heard they might be sending them to Dr. Gaster so he can test if they're fakes or not."

"gaster wouldn't bother doing something like that – he'd just look and say they were fakes without even paying attention to what's on 'em."

"He will if these reports get to be a big enough thing around the town!" Undyne shot back with a maniacal grin. "If the doctor gives the word that they're the real deal, then the hunt is on. And I'm not talking about myself – there'll be people from all over the country flocking here to the mountain. I've got to do this now before that happens and this great little window of opportunity that's opened up just for me is suddenly slammed shut in my face. …SO HELP A GAL OUT, WOULD'JYA?!"

She received mixed levels of enthusiasm from the replies of the small group she had gathered, but their hesitation was apparently enough of an answer for her – and the answer she had picked up from them was yes.

Sans sighed to himself,

"this is going to be just like the time she tried capturing santa claus when we were kids…"

"Poor Mr. Dreemur… He never saw the net coming." Alphys added solemnly.

"Alright, so listen up you pack of weenies! But not you though, Alphys. You're a peach and we're all glad that you're here." Undyne couldn't stop from showing her favoritism among present company. "So, back to what I was saying before Mr. Negative Nancy threw me off track – how are we gonna do this?"

Everyone was silent for a while.

"howz about we all go to lunch to think it over and talk about this again sometime after?"

"It's almost evening, you lazy clod!"

"Undyne, dearie, you're going about this all wrong." Muffet's smooth voice interjected.

"How so?" Undyne turned to her and crossed her arms impatiently.

"If you really wish to find a wraith, then you need to know exactly what it is you're walking into. They're clever beings, Undyne. They're adept masters at hiding and keeping their presence hidden from the world. It won't be like capturing a pesky possum eating your pet cat's food or a raccoon rummaging through your garbage and strewing it everywhere each night. This outbreak of sightings is merely a game of peek-a-boo to them, most likely. If you go up there looking to capture one of them, all that awaits you is disappointment."

"You're a fine one to talk, Muffet! You go up in those mountains several times a week looking for 'em and you've been doing it practically since you learned to walk!"

"Yes, dearie, all of what you just said is true. However, my goal isn't to apprehend one like a common criminal." Muffet's smile turned eerie. "The wraiths are simply impossible to catch, that's what I've come to believe. If you do encounter one and attempt to take one into custody, your face may just get ripped off for trying. You've heard the more… malevolent tales concerning them, haven't you?"

"Is that supposed to scare me?" Undyne scoffed. "So the wraiths can kill me. So could another human. So could a dog. So could a very dedicated duck!"

Papyrus nodded readily at her last point.

"The wraiths aren't that special in that department. What DOES make them special to me is that they're gonna help me finally secure a place in the police force!"

Undyne had known since before she ever entered kindergarten that she wanted to be a police officer when she grew up. She wanted to take down bad guys and arrest them, punish them and keep them away from the rest of society for the good people's sake and peace of mind. But when she graduated high school and tried to apply for a position she was immediately rejected. Apparently her frequent brawls with the local youth and her firey personality had branded Undyne as a troublemaker in the eyes of the force, everybody except Gerson.

He sympathized with her, so he talked with the rest of his coworkers and after much debate, they finally gave her a job – sort of. She was relegated to the position of 'mountain patrol', a fake position given to her out of pity where she circled the road that stretched around the base of Mount Ebott to search for anyone that may be breaking the law. She had received her own uniform and a walkie talkie like the others, but it was obvious that she wasn't considered one of them by the rest of the officers.

Undyne had done her job with as much passion as she could muster at first, thinking that if they saw her hard at work then a promotion might be on her horizon in the future. She had caught several individuals before that had tried to make the mountain their own personal dumpster through illegal dumping. She had apprehended one man who had committed several robberies and hid his stolen goods somewhere in that area. She had even prevented a very drunk man from kidnapping a woman who had been walking by herself that night and witnessed him trying to drag her up onto the mountain to do heaven knows what with her.

And despite all that, everyone on the force with the exception of Gerson still looked down on her.

That's why Undyne felt she had to prove herself to them by doing the impossible: capturing one of the elusive wraiths that roamed the mountain territories.

"Muffet does actually have a point, kind of." Alphys timidly spoke, causing the attention to be drawn to her. "Monsters or no monsters, it's still i-incredibly dangerous up there! Like you said, Mount Ebott is enormous, and how many times have you actually gone up there?"

Undyne looked down at her hand and began counting on her fingers. "…None."

"See? S-So maybe before you go up there, maybe it would be better to… become more familiar with the geography? Muffet, does the library have a map of the mountain?"

"I've got something better than the library…" Undyne whipped her head around, tossed a piece of blank paper then a pencil and pointed with a shout, "Sans! Draw me a map of Mount Ebott!"

He looked at the sheet and pencil resting at his feet and back at her with an owlish gaze.

"are you insane? i can't draw a map of the entire mountain!"

"I thought that Papyrus said you and him have been up there a lot in the past few months!"

"yeah, we have, but not enough that we've memorized everything up there! i've been up there more than paps and I haven't even made it one third of the way to the top! if mount ebott was an english mastiff, then we're the equivalent of a bunch of fleas jumping on its back! i don't think there's a person that's ever lived in this town or anywhere on earth that knows everything there is to know about that place and its geography. there is no complete map of ebott because i've looked. this whole idea of your is dangerous and crazy, undyne."

He was expecting her to blow up, but instead she inhaled through her nose and placed her forehead against her palm.

"You don't think I know that? But this may be the best chance I'll ever have of getting some respect from the force."

"Is getting respect from people that never believed in you worth possibly losing your life?"

Surprisingly, it was Mettaton that had asked her this question, and he for once looked serious.

"Undyne, if you truly want to hunt down one of those monsters, then I support your ambitions entirely, but you're still heading into something risky. You haven't planned this at all, you just assembled the team and hoped we'd have what you wanted to hear. And as for earning respect? Who needs it! Everyone told me I was making a mistake when I changed my name and formed my band, and they still do, but I'm happier now than I ever was before. I'm sure that fame will come our way any day now, but we're preparing ourselves for it every day. You, however, despite having told us that you wanted to play it smart, were planning on tearing off up there immediately after this little meeting of your is adjourned, correct?"

Undyne wouldn't look at him, but she gave a short nod.

"That's what I thought. I know this feels like a race against time to secure a place where you are comfortable belonging, but you need patience if you truly want to pull this off. Do some research, look at some maps, even if they are incomplete because some knowledge is better than none, and then you can go into the mountains with nets and fists ablaze to bag yourself a shadow monster!"

"…Wow, Mettaton." Alphys stared at him with wide eyes. "T-That's the most wise I think I've ever heard you speak! Usually you're encouraging us to make bad decisions for the sake of drama."

"You're right. He is acting strangely out of character…" Undyne pondered aloud, then shouted, "You're not Mettaton at all! You're actually one of the wraiths, aren't you?!"

Everyone knew she was joking, but the sudden increase in volume of her voice still made Mettaton jump. Before he could respond to her accusation, Undyne grabbed him around the ankle and swung him over her shoulder.

"Undyne, put me down this instant!"

"Nuh uh, you're coming down to the station with me. You're under arrest."

Everyone started laughing and snickering at his vain attempts to release himself from her hold, Alphys and Muffet having taken out their phones to record the scene.

"Undyne, please! If you're going to insist on carrying me, at least make it a princess carry! I deserve that much!" He loudly whined.

"Now that sounds like something Mettaton would actually say…" Undyne halted her steps, pretending to be in deep thought. "Huh, maybe the wraith hasn't completely taken over yet…"

"well, you know what the legends say to do, right?" Sans grinned, walking towards the two at a leisurely pace. "when the wraith's taken over, you burn it. when there's still hope left for the poor victim, you drown it out."

"…Don't. You. Dare." Mettaton hissed.

"Grab his legs, Sans."

"you got it, boss."

Together, the two heaved the frantically wiggling Mettaton closer to the slowly moving water. He began to screech when they started swinging him back and forth.

"SHOULD WE DO SOMETHING…?" Papyrus questioned the two girls, feeling as though he should perhaps say something.

"No, dear. This is just a… how you say, a jape." Muffet giggled.

"I'm not saying anything because this should be enough payback for him erasing my downloaded Mew Mew Kissy Cutie episodes on that disc I left laying out just so he could use it."

Papyrus didn't think Alphys was the type to partake in petty revenge, but the more you know, he thought.

"Sans! Undyne! Stop this madness immediately! My fabulous hairstyle will be ruined! And my makeup will run!"

"One…! Two…! Three…!" "one…! two…! three…!"

At the count of three, they both tossed him into the river, screeching and yowling like a cat when the cool water hit his body. Undyne and Sans both gave a whoop and cheered, laughing as they bumped fists before it turned into an elaborate and handsy handshake that ended in the two playfully wrestling each other on the ground.

"PILE DRIVER!"

"ow, undyne!"

"HEADLOCK!"

"nooooo! c'mon 'dyne, is this any way to treat your partner in crime?"

"Sorry, Sans, but war takes no prisoners. You already know what's next. NOOGIE NOOGIE NOOGIE NOOGIE!"

"agh! your knuckles are sharp!"

Mettaton spluttered and was thrashing in the water, trying to flounder towards shore but failing miserably.

"Come on, Mettaton, stop being so dramatic." Undyne rolled her eyes, her arm still wrapped around Sans's neck. "You're not drowning, the water only comes up to your collarbones if you're standing up."

He immediately ceased his splashing and did as she instructed, standing on his own feet to find that what she said was correct.

"…So it seems." Was all that he said, his voice small and clearly embarrassed.

"c'mon. i'll help ya out." Sans crouched down and offered his hand.

Mettaton smiled to himself, reaching over to clasp his outstretched palm. But before he could pull Sans into the water, Sans grabbed him and flung him over his shoulder then onto the grass on his back.

"…I dislike you with great intensity." He narrowed his eyes at Sans.

"i give you points for trying though, pal."

"Okay, so I will hand it to Mettaton that he's made a good point. I don't need to rush into this blindly and risk ending up a future episode of 'Missing'." Undyne began.

"And you had to throw my poor self into the water to admit that?" He sniffed, wringing out his soaking wet hair.

"Yes. It was entirely necessary, Mettaton. To banish the wraith from your body." She nodded sagely. "Anyway, I've decided that what I'm going to do is, I'm gonna find all the maps that I can of Ebott and, ugh, study them, bleh. And Muffet, if you could lend me some of your books, I'd really appreciate it."

To no one's surprise, she retrieved a large and thick book with an ominous featureless figure on the cover out of her little black spider plushie purse that she always carried (how did she even fit it in there?) and handed it to Undyne.

"You're wasting your time, dearie."

"You'll be saying that when I've caught what you've been looking for for literal years in just a matter of days." Undyne shot back good naturedly.

"Undyne! Patience? Future episode of 'Missing'? Remember?!" Mettaton piped up again – despite being completely drenched by the two, he still cared very much about her.

"I got it, I got it. But once I'm done doing the boring part, I'm not leaving a single stone uncovered until I find a wraith! Thank you all for coming here today, but I've gotta get started! Later, dorks!"

Undyne then sped off in the direction of the town's library, or librarby, as the mispelled sign out in front stated, without another word of goodbye.

"She calls us all here suddenly and she's gone just as quickly." Mettaton remarked with a defeated sigh. "Now if you'll excuse me, I've got to blow dry my hair now."

"you aren't mad at us, are you?"

"…No. I'm not. It was all in good fun, after all." He then smirked. "But I'll be getting you both back for it in the future, darling. Just you wait and see."

"bring it on, matt."

"I'm afraid I have no clue who you're speaking of." He all but sang, turning around and giving everyone else a wave goodbye. "Ta-tah, darlings."

"WHAT ABOUT YOU, ALPHYS?" Papyrus asked, "HOW WILL YOU BE SPENDING YOUR EVENING?"

"I-I think I'll catch up with Undyne. If she really does want to do this, then I think I should help however I can and k-keep an eye on her so she doesn't do anything s-sudden or rash, like Mettaton said."

"OKAY! HAVE FUN!"

Once Alphys had left, it was just Sans and Papyrus with Muffet.

"i hope you aren't expecting that book to be in one piece when you get it back." Sans told her. "i dunno if you noticed, but she can be kind of rough handling things."

"Oh, that's perfectly alright, dearie. If she damages my book, I'm certain that she can reimburse me to purchase another copy."

Both brothers looked at each other with a worried frown – that book had not looked cheap.

"It's a lovely evening, isn't it, boys?" She gestured to skies above that were beginning to be tinted with orange. "A perfect evening for a mountain walk, wouldn't you agree?"

"is that what you're gonna do?"

"I'm afraid not. Mummy needs me to make a birthday cake for a customer that's coming by to pick it up tomorrow. But maybe I'll see you on the mountain trail sometime. Ciao."

"WELL, SANS, EVERYONE ELSE IS GONE WITH THE NIGHT VASTLY APPROACHING! WE SHOULD PROBABLY BOTH HEAD HOME NOW AND-"

"actually, i think i'll go do what muffet suggested and take a walk." He quickly replied, not wanting to see Gaster just yet.

"WELL, ALRIGHT…" Papyrus looked like someone had told him his dog died. "JUST DON'T STAY OUT TOO LATE, ALRIGHT? AND KEEP YOUR CELL PHONE ON YOU AT ALL TIMES! IF THE BATTERY IS RUNNING LOW, THEN COME HOME IMMEDIATELY!"

"will do. i'll see ya later, paps."

He started walking in the direction of the mountain, its magnificent shadow stretching over him and the rest of the town.

Wraiths.

He still wasn't convinced they exist.

 ~~~~~~~~~~

"Hello, dearie."

Sans nearly jumped out of his skin. He had said so earlier that Muffet should have been a cryptozoologist, but he also believed that she would make an excellent assassin with how she could quietly creep up on unsuspecting people.

"muffet! i thought you left."

"I did. And now I'm back, but only momentarily."

They were standing at the base of Mount Ebott directly in front of one of the dirt roads that led into the mountain.

"so, uh, what brings you here?"

"I wanted to show you something interesting." She smiled in a way that made him feel somewhat uncomfortable.

She moved towards a thick group of bushes and motioned for him to follow.

"…you're not going to show me a dead body, are you?"

"Don't be ridiculous, dearie. I said something interesting, did I not?"

She then moved aside the shrubbery to reveal a small statue that he had never seen before. It looked almost like a vase, hourglass shaped, and it seemed ancient, probably hundreds of years old.

"Now look inside it."

He did as instructed and found a large stone inside, colored red, yellow and orange, and was carved in the shape of the sun. It was resting on a pedestal of some sort and large silver prongs held the stone firmly in place to ensure it wasn't easily removed.

"I bet you had no idea this was here, did you?"

"no, i didn't. …so what is it?"

"This monument was constructed by the people of Ebott Village many centuries ago. There are more of them spread out at the base of the mountain. They were made to keep the villagers safe here, and the wraiths confined up there."

"how are these things supposed to keep them up there?"

"That stone inside the totem is a sunstone. According to gemology it's believed that they can harness the power of the sun. The combined power of these stones create a ring of protection that wards off the shadow monsters; think of it as being almost like an electric fence."

"i'd never heard that before." He rubbed his chin, leaning closer to the statue. "i can't remember ever seeing one of these things before, and they're all over the town?"

"Just around the base, but yes."

"i wonder why i never noticed them."

"They've become well hidden throughout the years. The legends began to fade out, nature's madness took over, and they were gradually forgotten. I suppose if they were well known, some might try to steal the sunstones inside. Of course, according to the old documents on them I acquired, they say misfortune falls on those that would attempt to take the stones."

Sans wasn't superstitious in the slightest, but he couldn't help but think aloud. "something still doesn't make sense, though – the myths say that wraiths would steal the bodies of humans to impersonate them. if the statues make some kind of invisible magic ring that they can't cross, why go to the trouble of stealing a body if they're stuck on the mountain?"

"Oh, Sans. Don't you see? That's precisely why they would need the body of a human." At his perplexed expression, she continued with a wry smile. "The bodies of a wraith, made of shadows, would incinerate if they made contact with the sunstone ring. So, they capture a human that wandered into their territory, hollow out the body, then liquify their own body and crawl inside so they can safely bypass the ring."

Sans felt his stomach churn at the graphic mental images she had instilled in his brain. "that's disgusting, muffet."

"Heehee! You should see your face – so sour right now." She giggled. "Well, I just thought I'd share that with you. Have fun up there, oh, and don't get eaten!"

"you're full of it, muffet!" He called out to her as she began walking away with that light girlish chuckle of hers.

"Is that any way to talk to your amicable ex-girlfriend?" She laughed.

"you're not my ex-girlfriend! it was one date, that gaster set up, and we both agreed it wasn't a real date because neither of us agreed to it."

Even though they had left the 'date' as better friends than before and Sans didn't hold any romantic feelings for her then or presently, Muffet had told him at the time that he wasn't her type. He understood entirely, she wasn't obligated to feel that way towards him even though the two did get along swimmingly when she wasn't being morbid. But he couldn't help but wonder if his looks had anything to do with her decision.

"You know I'm just teasing you, dearie. No need to get so hot under the collar. And speaking of hot, aren't you steaming by now in that hoodie?"

"a little, but it's nothing i can't handle." He didn't mind Muffet asking about his hoodie – she wouldn't look down on him for wearing it out of season because she too had a peculiar fashion sense.

"Suit yourself, dearie. Bye-bye~"

After Muffet had left, for real this time, he began his ascension up the mountain trail. The mountain didn't have any roads built on it, just traversable paths created by nature. As far as he knew, nobody lived anywhere up there despite how expansive it was. It had remained the same for centuries, devoid of modern civilization and a sanctuary for Ebott's wildlife.

The dirt roads only stretched so far before grass overtook them. From that point onward was where the mountain began looking like several different worlds had been melded together. Sans had only seen a handful of the mysterious sights Mount Ebott had to offer, but what he had seen made it sometimes worth the hike up there: a lake with waterfalls in sizes both great and small, a field of flowers that stretched on and on with no end in sight, thick forests that were so dark it was almost impossible to see your own hand in front of your face…

And that was just what he had seen with his own eyes one-third of the way up the mountain. He hadn't explored the sides of the mountain or the areas higher up, like the snowcapped top or the caves rich with odd stones and minerals. He supposed he could spend every day on this mountain for the rest of his life and still not know everything about the place. Perhaps if he continued visiting and going a little further each time, he would be the first to create a complete map of Ebott.

Sans didn't come here to chase shadows or cause trouble for the environment like most did when they passed by - he came here because it was quiet, save for the songs of birds and the wailing of the cicadas. Being surrounded by the peaceful scenery and focused on the thrill of the climb took his mind off of the problems he had left behind at home.

When he was younger, he had wanted to explore the mountain with his group of friends. They were labelled far too young for such a dangerous activity, and were consequently restricted to playing near the river bed and the small wooded areas spread around town; everyone pretended they were at Mount Ebott, but now he was living out his childhood self's dreams of adventure here in the present.

Even so, he missed those days dearly.

His younger self never imagined that everything in his life would have turned out the way it did. When he was younger, he thought his body looked the way it did because of baby fat and he would eventually grow out of it after he reached puberty. Instead, he only grew more bulky. When he was younger, he thought that he and his father would be working together as equals to revitalize the town that was considered dead-end by not only outsiders, but its own citizens. Instead, he was injured by one of his father's own creations and ruined his one chance to get an education from a prestigious academy thus estranging himself from his father, and the townspeople still wanted to leave and would complain whenever they did and came back.

Sans hadn't been in a rush to grow up when he was a child, but he thought that it would have been more fun than what it turned out to be.

He was the one out of the group that was supposed to soar above them all in terms of success, and he had sunken below them all.

Papyrus was doing the exact same thing he was doing; completing odd jobs around town, but he was only doing that to gain experience and had plenty of drive. Undyne was bettering herself every day and was aiming for a higher position in Ebott's police force even if her methods of attempting to do so were insane in his eyes. Alphys had more or less taken his place as Gaster's first hand assistant in the lab after he quit having anything to do with science – he didn't hold it against Alphys at all even though she apologized constantly for it even in the present, he was the one that chose to quit. Even Mettaton had a better future planned for himself than him; yes, he was a bit in over his head with his dream of instantly achieving fame and becoming a star, but Sans had to admit that he was creative and talented in some aspects. He might not achieve prime stardom like he wanted, but Sans wouldn't be surprised if he did aquire a little slice of recognition in the future.

Everyone else seemed to know exactly what it was they were doing with their lives.

He didn't have a clue anymore.

There existed legends of people that climbed the mountain only to disappear without a trace. Paranormal explanations or not, there still existed records of persons that were last seen heading towards the mountain then never heard from again. That was many years ago though, and nobody has been reported missing in this town in over a hundred years.

But, if he were to disappear, Sans wondered, would he be missed…?

He rapidly shook his head, immediately banishing the intrusive thought. Of course he would be missed; Toriel would grieve for him if something ever happened to cut his life short, his friends would mourn, and Papyrus… Papyrus would never be the same without him. If Sans died, he would be taking a piece of his brother with him.

He didn't know why such a thought would enter his head in the first place; even though his life had been turned on its head, he had a great group of friends and he appreciated being alive.

But he still could have lived without the permanent marks on his arms. They were throbbing painfully under his sleeves, and he hadn't brought any medicine with him to ease the sensation.

Sans could hear the sound of running water up ahead after a while longer of walking. He came to a clearing where the river was and looked both left and right to see if it was safe to shed his hoodie. He wasn't sure what he was looking for; all that was here in this area were birds, and they couldn't blab his secret to the town.

He slid his arms out of the sleeves, crouched down by the rocky mountain riverbed and dipped them into the clean cool water. It soothed the angry enflamed marks on his skin, but only a little. Not even the balms and creams Toriel prescribed to him completely eased the pain.

He had been in near constant pain since the accident, and he wondered if that was how he would be spending the rest of his life despite Toriel's reassurances.

Sans had allowed himself to relax for a few minutes, listening to the wind blow through the nearby tree branches as he tended to his wounds. Every muscle, every joint in his body locked up when he heard the bushes on the other side of the river rustle.

It didn't sound like a small creature made the noise. He hurriedly yanked his arms from the water and threw on his hoodie before scrambling for the thickets on his own side of the river. If he left now, he would be creating too much noise, so he would wait it out until whatever it was left.

The creature's footsteps sounded too light to be a bear but too heavy for a raccoon or possum. He waited, concealing himself in the shrubbery until only his eyes were peeking out between the leaves. The sounds gradually grew closer as the seconds ticked by, buy Sans felt like he had been waiting for the noisemaker to show itself for hours.

Finally, it stepped out of the forest, and he was surprised to find himself looking at a girl.

At least, she appeared to be a girl. And she was wearing incredibly bizarre clothing; a large floppy pointed hat and a long sleeved robe that stretched down to her feet. Her hair was unusually long as well, reaching past her waist. But the most unusual thing about this girl was her skin – it was dark. Beyond dark. Blacker than black.

And her eyes. As she came closer towards the river bed, even at this distance, he could see them clearly, constrasting with the blackness of her face. They were two pretty gray blue spheres, glowing and the color of celestite.

He had one blue eye as well, but he liked the shade of hers more. They held a mysterious quality to them that he felt his didn't.

Oh, but it was obvious to him that she was wearing contacts and this wasn't her real eye color. People's eyes didn't glow like that. People didn't dress like that normally either, so she must be wearing a costume. But what would she be doing way out here in the mountain wilderness wearing what looked like a wraith costume? Was it some sort of prank?

Everything made sense now – those photos Undyne saw must have been of this girl. People were beginning to believe that she was a real monster. Sans was all for playing good harmless pranks, but this one was dangerous. Someone might see her like that and a very gun happy person might mistake her for something otherworldly and shoot her, he thought.

He had planned on leaving when she did, but he felt the need to warn her.

Sans was about to step out from the bushes but froze when she suddenly slowly raised her arms into the air and her chest began to glow with a white light.

She began singing in a strange tongue unfamiliar to him,

 amita ibiria amore

amita sibidia samora

mia sari mi ia…

Her voice was deeper than he would have expected and melancholy, almost mournful in tone. It pulled at his heart in a strange way he couldn't quite describe. Calming, yet sorrowful all the same. But he didn't have long to dwell on her song itself before he had something entirely different to focus on.

The flowing water in the river abruptly stirred, unnatural ripples beginning to form on the surface. From one side of the riverbank to the other, large stones from the river's bottom rose up to create a sturdy pathway, stable enough for one to walk across without fear of it crumbling and whoever was on top falling in.

The girl lifted her robe slightly and placed one foot, covered in what looked like a sandal ethnic in design onto the makeshift bridge. Satisfied that it was secure, she stepped onto the rocks and began slowly making her way across. As she did, the stones that had meshed together became undone and sunk back down to the watery depths behind her as she again sang in that undecipherable language,

amita ibiria amore

sia a sibiria samora

mia sari…

When she reached the other side of the riverbank safely, whatever was left of the pathway had crumbled away by the time her singing ceased. Sans was stunned and in disbelief – despite his earlier skepticism, he couldn't deny what he had seen was magic. Magic fueled by the power of this strange girl's voice.

Beyond a shadow of a doubt, this girl was a wraith.

"muffet would probably kill a man in cold blood to be in my place right now."

But then a realization hit him that made his heart drop down to his stomach:

This girl was a wraith.

A shadow monster.

A creature of legend.

And in those legends, the wraiths murdered people to snatch their bodies.

If she saw him, would she try to end his life? At this thought, his heart began pounding with fear when moments before it had been from wonder.

He needed to get away without being noticed, but how?

Sans didn't get to think of an effective strategy before he was spotted. The wraith was standing no less than three feet away from where he was crouched, staring down at him with slightly widened half lidded eyes that Sans couldn't decide whether it made her appear adorably sleepy or incredibly seductive.

Either way, she was standing over him and he had very little time to think of a way to escape her shadowy clutches before she pounced him.

He quickly rose to his feet, but before he could move another inch the wraith let out a tiny squeak and scrambled backwards with widened eyes and a heaving chest. That was a curious response, he thought.

Common sense told him that now would be an opportune moment to run, but curiosity told him that he should test this. Curse the scientist that was still within him.

Instead of fleeing, he took a step towards her and guaged her reaction. The monster girl let out another distressed cry and scurried away from him until her heels were one inch from her being in the river – one more step, even a little one, and she would fall in.

Oh the irony.

She was afraid of him.

Well that simply wouldn't do.

For reasons he couldn't quite begin to ponder, the idea of a girl, even a monster girl, being afraid of him didn't sit well with Sans.

He smiled at her in a manner that he hoped appeared friendly and inviting.

"hey," She flinched at the sound of his voice, but he continued. "it's alright. no need to feel scared. 'm not gonna hurt ya, see?"

He held out his hand towards her, but it didn't appear she had listened to or understood a word he was saying because she let out a small scream and stumbled backwards, nearly falling headfirst into the river.

And she would have, if he hadn't rushed forward to catch her.

Everything around them stilled. It seemed as though even the birds in the trees and the water below them had hushed to gawk at the sheer novelty of the situation they were in. She was bent backwards, feet barely on the ground and he was holding her with one hand around her shoulders and the other wound around her lower back. And they were looking each other directly in the eye.

She was so tiny compared to him.

It was just like a scene from one of Alphys's cheesy shoujo mangas, he would acknowledge later, but while in the moment, he was rendered speechless from the suddenness of the occurrence. Her skin was cold, he noticed, the closest comparison he could think of being as if she had been sitting in front of a powerful air conditioner for several hours.

Both remained motionless for an undisclosed amount of time until the wraith started trembling in his arms, wiggling to get out of his grip.

"stop it. if i let you go now you'll tumble right in. i don't think you went to the trouble to make a bridge before just to get wet, did you?"

But she only squirmed harder, and he almost dropped her a few times during this short duration. When she showed no sign of complying to his reasonable request for her sake, he yanked her closer to him and tried to step away from the river with her.

The river was different up here compared to in town; the water moved faster and if she fell in and didn't know how to swim, she could easily drown. That is, if she needed to breathe in order to live. But Sans wasn't about to take any chances and just assumed that she needed to.

Their chests were now pressed up against each other. The thrum of her chest didn't match his – it didn't sound anything like a human's heart beat should, and though he was entirely unfamiliar with this creature's biology, he could tell that it was thrumming faster than it normally would.

Thump… thump… thump…

But it was still far too slow for any healthy human's heartbeat to sound. If he didn't believe that she was something paranormal before, he would have now.

Her fingers dug painfully into his shoulders, small hands shoving at his chest and clawing at his wrists to get him to release her, and several shaky sounds escaped from her throat all the while, noises that he assumed must have been unsuccessful attempts at using her voice-based magic. Only when they were both at a safe distance from the water did he release her.

She instantly sprang away from him, turning her back to Sans and fleeing into the thick expanse of trees, blending into the shadows of the forest around her perfectly and rendering her invisible.

Sans lingered around the area just long enough to regain his breath, but he had seen enough for one day – it was time to go home.

By the time he reached his house, Papyrus had finished making dinner but Gaster still wasn't home yet, which was fine for Sans, but his brother despaired over another portion of his cooking going to waste if their father didn't return that night. Sometimes, as Sans occasionally stayed at Grillby's home until things blowed over, so did Gaster, but with Asgore at the Dreemur residence.

A few hours later, it was made clear that tonight was going to be one of those nights, so in order to spare Papyrus's feelings over his culinary creation going unconsumed, Sans ate Gaster's share. Which would only add a few more pounds to his already plump figure, he lamented.

He didn't tell Papyrus about his encounter on the mountain before heading upstairs to his room. Would his brother even believe him? He could barely believe it himself, and it had happened to him! And he couldn't stop thinking about it either. Usually, most people did one of two things when encountering the unknown; tell everyone they knew and didn't know about it, or they kept it to themselves for the rest of their lives. He wasn't sure if he could do either.

After a while of trying to distract his mind by watching television, playing a game, or reading, he finally gave up. He couldn't keep his thoughts from drifting to the wraith he had seen, spoken to, and even touched.

He sat at his desk and pulled out a sketchbook; it had once been filled with formulas and sketches for inventions when he was Gaster's apprentice, but he had since torn those out and filled the empty book with random drawings and doodles. He opened the book and stopping at a blank page, then began sketching the best he could from his memory.

Sans didn't know how long he had spent there, but it was pitch black outside by the time he finished. It wasn't perfect by any means, but it was something that he could remember this day by. He had a feeling though that he would never forget what happened today, even if he tried from this point onward to forget.

And he was right; he never did forget this day.

Because today was the beginning of an entirely new world being opened for Sans and his brother.

 ~~~~~~~~~~

Sans awoke to what sounded like Gaster clambering around downstairs below his room. So he had come home at some point. He rolled over to face his clock and saw that it was eleven thirty. Not surprising, since he had stayed up late last night. Dear old dad wouldn't be happy with him that he slept the morning away once again, but in his defense, as he said yesterday, Grillby would still be serving from his breakfast menu right now.

He took a shower then cautiously made his way to the kitchen. To his surprise, Gaster and Papyrus were actually eating at the table. Both of them looked up from their meals to stare at him, and he felt out of place for not the first time in this household since the accident.

Sans briefly wondered if his brother and Gaster would get along just fine if he weren't around.

But then again, Gaster might shift his scientific prodigy-making plan onto his brother or Alphys if he didn't keep watch over him. It seemed he would have to continue being a nuisance for their safety and wellbeing.

He pulled up a chair and sat down without a word.

"You're late. As per usual."

"if i'm late then so are you. you're eating breakfast too."

Gaster didn't appreciate that at all, glowering at him from across the table. Papyrus quickly looked for a topic to lighten the mood.

"D-DID I MENTION THAT UNDYNE HAS BEEN WORKING HARD FOR A PROMOTION LATELY?!" He all but squawked.

"Is that so…?" Their father quirked an eyebrow at his youngest son's squirrely behavior then took a nonchalant sip of his coffee. "Ah, speaking of recent news, have either of you heard about what's been happening on Mount Ebott lately?"

"…" Neither said a word.

Gaster continued anyway regardless. "The people of this town are saying that they're catching glimpses of monsters in the mountain's wilderness. Can you imagine such a thing? What utter nonsense.

"yup. utter nonsense." Sans nearly choked on his mouthful of pancake.

"Some are even planning on hiking up the mountain to seek them out. I've never heard such insanity in all my life. Now listen, the both of you: I don't want either of you going up that mountain, mythical beasts or not. I can't have the people of Ebott thinking you're caught up in the frenzy of hunting for them too. And even if they did exist, which they most certainly do not, I wouldn't want you interacting with such creatures."

"uh-huh. i gotcha."

"If these people have time to be chasing shadows, then they have plenty to spare on actually putting effort into revitalizing the town instead of always complaining about what we don't have."

"yup, what a complete waste of valuable time…"

"You have little room to speak, Sans. You lollygag about just as much as the rest of the townspeople these days."

"tell that to the stack of cash i earned this week working my butt off around town." He rebutted, stabbing his fork into the sausage on his plate.

"Yes, you really raked it in this week, you think. If you were living on your own, that amount wouldn't keep you afloat in the slightest."

"well, from the sound of your tone, it sounds like you really want me to leave and never come back. maybe i should."

Sans had tried moving out directly after he had gotten expelled, but he wouldn't leave without his brother and Papyrus remained firm on staying. Papyrus had created a stalemate; he couldn't leave until things either got better between him and Gaster, or Sans decided to go without his brother. Sans didn't see either happening anytime soon.

"Was that supposed to be a threat? If so, it was entirely ineffective."

"PLEASE, DON'T FIGHT YOU TWO. CAN'T WE HAVE A NICE BREAKFAST TOGETHER LIKE WE USED TO?"

"No, Papyrus, I don't think that's possible anymore. Your brother, despite being the older of the two of you, can't seem to be a mature adult for longer than two minutes and keep his temper in check."

Sans wanted so badly to retaliate, but he held his tongue once again. He stood up from his seat, the chair scraping against the hardwood floor as he did so. His meal was left unfinished, he mentally noted, but he had lost his appetite anyway.

Just as yesterday, he made his way towards the front door.

"And just where do you think you're going? I haven't finished speaking!"

He remembered what Toriel had told him to say.

"i'm sorry, but i don't feel ready to talk yet."

He reached for the doorknob and Gaster rose up from his own seat. He swiftly paced over to Sans, and in his haste in preventing him from leaving, roughly grabbed his arm.

Sans screamed.

His yowl of pure pain snapped Gaster out of his anger, but it was too late – the damage had been done. His son spun around to look at him, large mismatched eyes moist and filled with confusion and betrayal, then mistrust and anger.

"I-I'm so sorry! I… I didn't mean to, Sans! You have to believe me, I would never-" But he had. "…Let me see it."

Sans instinctively wrenched himself away from him, cradling his arm.

"SANS, PLEASE DON'T GO! FATHER SHOULDN'T HAVE GRABBED YOU SO SUDDENLY, BUT IT WAS AN ACCIDENT! HE DIDN'T MEAN TO HURT YOU!"

Accident.

Accident. Accident. Accident.

Everything was always an accident when he and Gaster were involved. Their entire relationship now had been reduced to one long continuous stream of accidents.

And he just couldn't take it anymore.

Sans turned his back on him and ran out the door as fast as his ligs would carry him, hearing Gaster and Papyrus yell for him behind, but he didn't dare stop or even slow down. He wasn't even sure where he was going, anywhere that wasn't back there.

He found himself going exactly where his father had told him not to go just minutes earlier: Mount Ebott. He wondered if his body was subconsciously spiting Gaster now. He continued running until his legs nearly gave out, stopping at another clearing – a picturesque woodland area.

He sat himself down on a conveniently placed large boulder nearby to catch his breath, wanting to bawl his heart out from the pain enflared in his arm.

Gaster had grabbed him.

He had never done that before. But he just had to grab his burnt arms, didn't he? He was one of the few people that held knowledge of his burns, and he had just unconsciously used his injury against him.

This was it. Nothing between him and Gaster was ever going to get any better.

He heard rustling in the area nearby, just like yesterday evening. Curiosity once again taking presedence over pain, he crept closer towards the sounds to see what he would find making them. Over by a thicket of berry bushes, he found the noisemaker.

It was her again.

She looked exactly the same as yesterday, the only difference being the leather bag she wore over her shoulder. She seemed to be holding a glass container of some sort, picking berries from the bushes and dropping them in, letting out a soft happy-sounding hum as she did so.

Would she run away again if she saw him?

Before he could ponder too much on this, his mouth started running ahead of him.

"hey, it's, uh, me again." He called out to her.

She stiffened, turning her head around slowly to peer at him. He smiled awkwardly and raised one hand up, gradually, since the last time he moved too quickly she didn't respond well. The wraith stared at him for an extended period of time, wordless, before turning her attention back to the berry bush.

Her posture wasn't anywhere near as relaxed as it was before he revealed himself and she had stopped humming.

"i'm sorry about suddenly, you know… grabbing you yesterday. i just didn't want you to fall in the river."

"…"

"so, do you come here often…?" He was grasping at straws.

"…"

"do you have a name? i can just call you 'ghoulie' if you won't tell me."

"…"

"do you… understand a word i'm saying? at all?"

"…"

To his surprise, she actually turned around to face him, studying him intently before giving a small nod.

"…you do understand? what I've been saying? everything?"

Another nod.

"then why aren't you talking to me? did i offend you or something?"

"…"

"ugh, fine. be that way." He groaned, spinning on his heel and then sitting down on the ground right there, crossing his arms with a huff and his back turned to her.

A few more moments of silence passed, when suddenly he heard a tiny voice,

"...…Scary."

"…huh?"

"…Scary."

"sorry, i didn't catch that?"

"Scary. You're… scary."

She spoke in the same manner as someone that had gone an extended amount of time without using their voice; hesitant, soft and unsure of their words. Putting that thought to the side, he focused more on her words themselves.

"scary? me?" He pointed to himself, dumbfounded.

Yet another nod.

Sans stared at her, probably slackjawed as he thought,

"i must be pretty dang ugly if a monster thinks i'm scary…"

So, he decided to question her further,

"what is it about me that makes me seem scary to you?"

"…I …don't know you."

Well, if that really was the only reason why she was afraid of him, they could easily fix that, he thought.

He turned around and stood up, stepping over to her until he was towering over the girl.

She was petrified to the spot.

"you're right, you don't know me. but you will soon. and do you know why?"

He was trying to be funny, leaning downwards until their noses were nearly touching, and whispered,

"because we're going to be best friends you and i."

Sans shouldn't have been surprised when she let out a startled shriek, but he was, and he was startled even further when something collided painfully against his cheek with a loud smack – her hair?

A section of her tendril-like hair was raised unnaturally in the air, much like an octopus's tentacle ready to strike again. But the expression on her face said that she hadn't meant to do that at all, seeming almost sympathetic but still overrode with fear.

Before he could even begin to apologize for making things worse, he was suddenly violently shoved onto the ground landing on his behind. A third figure had intercepted his path to the girl – it was another wraith.

This one was redheaded and had eyes the color of blood. She was glaring down at him almost murderously, the green robe she was wearing fluttering around her as the wind shifted ominously around her. She bent downwards, her face hovering over his.

"Stay. Away. From. My. SISTER!"

Her face suddenly changed shape, looking far less like a woman in cosplay and more like the very terrifying creatures of legend they had been described as. The smaller and timid wraith clung to the other wraith now identified as her sister and quivered. The green clothed one was just about to pounce and most certainly put an end to his life when something stopped her,

"SANS! WHERE ARE YOU?! SAAAAAAANS?!"

Papyrus was looking for him somewhere in the distance. Sans turned towards the direction he heard his voice, but when he turned back to the wraiths, they were both backing away from him and the area entirely, clinging to each other as if they were one another's lifeline. The blue eyed shadow had her head tucked into the other's shoulder while the redheaded one scowled at him.

 camita sora mia

ii sama dite doche

miketa amia

ideta asomarita

ii tento mia dora

ii sama vida doche

ii seta madora

iria ia dileto

 This other wraith's voice was higher and stronger in tone and volume. The trees around the two, spaced out considerably suddenly began to huddle together, creating a massive shadow with their foliage that stretched several yards wide. The two then stepped backwards into the created shade and faded from view, the last thing Sans saw being her red eyes piercing through the darkness before they too faded out.

"SANS! WHAT ARE YOU DOING OVER THERE ON THE GROUND? ARE YOU ALRIGHT? YOU'RE NOT HURT, ARE YOU?!"

Papyrus rushed to his side moments later, apparently not having seen anything to do with the shadow monsters. He had shown up just in time, too.

Sans wanted to answer that he was alright, but he somehow found himself laughing instead.

"SANS, WHAT'S GOING ON? WHY- WHY ARE YOU LAUGHING? YOU'RE BEGINNING TO SCARE ME…"

Sans was scared too. Scared and excited all at once. He had never felt anything like it. He then flopped on his back in his hysterics, tears nearly streaming down his face as he laughed, clutching his stomach.

Later, when he thought about why he might have laughed so hard, instead of believing it to have been a delayed reaction to all the tension he had felt in that perilous moment and his body had released it by laughing it off, he concluded it was because, even though that other wraith had been ready to kill him where he stood…

He still wanted to meet that softspoken monster girl again.

[hellzyeahwebwielingessays]

Superior is INDEFENCIBLE Part 2: Odds and Ends

Part 1

As a little follow up to this post I want to wrap up some defences I have encountered for both Superior #2 and the Superior storyline in general.

To start with we have more hypocrisy from the man I once admired as he tried to defend his position on Superior.

He was challenged on his primary argument that Peter and MJ’s separation justified her obliviousness now that they are back together; for further details see the above linked post.

In response to this challenge he said:

“I think there is more to my argument then "They've lived apart for a year" and her relationship with him during that time doesn't have to hold relevance to their relationship after being apart.”

Like…this guy was for fucking real.

OF COURSE their relationship back then is going to hold relevance to their relationship after being apart.

Obviously with the benefit of hindsight Nick Spencer’s run proves this to be the case. And you can refer back to my prior post where I dive deeper into the topic.

However, in that post I was talking about the specific nuances of Peter and MJ’s relationship.

What’s mind boggling is that in the above quote he’s making an even bigger reach. Jesus Christ OF COURSE their past relationship is going to hold relevance for their then-current one.

That’s how relationships work!

FFS, romantic or otherwise everyone’s relationship with everyon else is shaped by the past. This is like arguing Peter hating Norman for killing Gwen Stacy doesn’t have to be relevant to their relationship after his return to the Clone Saga.

I mean shit dude, Peter’s high school romance with Betty Brant was relevant to their romance after he graduated college!

This is how all types of relationships work. You don’t just jump in after awhile, start fresh and then nothing from the past has any bearing on the present. Even in the most positive of scenarios the fact that you are getting together again  would still be shaped by the fact that you liked each other in the first place.

And for the life experiences those two shared that’d go a thousand fold.

Now let’s move on to some over miscellaneous comments sent to me a  looooooooooooong time ago.

I’ve had this stuff in my drafts for years! 

For the sake of catharsis I’ve decided to clear it out. It revolves around Superior Spider-Man and the comments I’m responding to were made before the original volume ended in 2014.

“Rob Wrecks wrote:Why would Aunt May even react to it? She doesn't even know the identity of Spidey now.”

In Civil War she was able to tell that the Chameleon, a MASTER of disguise who was being more subtle than Otto was, was not her nephew.

Whilst she might not know he is Spider-Man she knows her nephew so she should react and become questionable regarding his change in demeanor and behavior. What’s the old saying ‘A mother always knows’.

“As for MJ, they aren't even married anymore either. Sure she remembers who is under the mask. But I doubt she's gonna bring trouble on herself for prying.”

I address a lot of this in this  post.

Basically, not being married anymore has nothing to do with it. This woman lived with this man for years (five to be precise) and had a very close relationship with him which involved countless tragedies and traumas. That doesn’t just go away. This is to say nothing of the fact that she has known this man for about 10 years and has been his friend and girlfriend during that time. In fact in Stern’s run when she knew who he was but didn’t let him know, she was depicted as knowing him better than anyone and was able to read him as a book. This was back when they weren’t as close as they are now, hadn’t known each other for as long and she didn’t know him as intimately as she would later come to down the road. In ASM #290 Peter himself says MJ knows him as well as he knows himself and this was before the marriage.

Even in Slott’s run this depiction of Mary Jane knowing Peter better than anyone else was highlighted in various stories like Spider Island, a time travel arc, Alpha, and a Lizard arc at HORIZON labs. 

In JMS’ run Peter and Mary Jane were shown to be somewhat in synch even though they were separated at the time and had been for a long while going back. This was showcased in ASM V2 #50 and they had been effectively separated with minimal interaction as far back as ASM V2 #13; arguably even issue #1.

And yet she understood him and knew him very well, falling back into synch with him when they reconciled. Yes there was some awkwardness and them getting to know each other again but it was not on the same level of Otto guzzling champagne, creating spider bots, talking in a manner which was unlike the way he’s ever spoken before and MJ just wondering passingly then dismissing it. This woman has lived through the Chamelon, robot parents and clones and lives in a world where friggin Skrulls have invaded.

This out of character behaviour should send off alarm bells. She DOES clock something is off in Superior #10 but only when he says a phrase she’s never heard him say before. He was doing shit MUCH more out of character before then and she was dismissing it.

Later she was STILL dismissing the notion that Peter wasn’t himself as merely crazy on her part.

Again this woman knows Peter can be/has been cloned  repeatedly. This woman even for awhile believed Peter himself was a clone so she knows even memories can be replicated. But Peter is acting so obviously NOT himself that it’s practically SCREAMING at her that she should get this. In fact Peter’s ghost point this out which is Slott lampshading the situation. That doens’t make it good writing that’s just pointing out how bad your story is.

“Hasn't she (I'm guessing he's referring to Aunt May?) been focused lately on her new marriage though? I don't read enough of Spidey these days so I'm only going with bits and pieces I've read about here and there.”

What does being married recently or focusing upon it have to do with anything?

In Civil War she was focused upon not dying because Peter’s ID reveal had upended her life.

If you are someone’s MOTHER and have raised them all their life you will absolutely  be able to tell when something is wrong, when they are in fact not the real deal.

“As for MJ, who would she go too? Not like anyone would likely believe her unless she had a telepath scan her mind.”

Who would she go to? I dunno maybe the fucking Avengers or Fantastic Four who are Peter’s friends and team mates. Or maybe not go that far why not go to Black Cat, Human Torch or Daredevil . These are all people whom she knows (at least vaguely in regards to Daredevil) personally and have access to technology that can prove things one way or another.

Even if you argue that it’s not fair bringing in the wider Marvel Universe, Black Cat, Carlie, HORIZON labs, the Bugle staff and Scarlet Spider are all Spider-Man franchise characters.

“Now there could be a possibility she's making a list of his behavior and the like and is just waiting for the right time to say something when she knows she's less likely to die from it.

Maybe Slott's just got something going that'll eventually be revealed? Who knows.”

Oh boy, that didn’t stand the test of time did it?

This is just shitty analysis on principle. It hinges upon blind faith and writing stuff in your head about what characters are doing behind the scenes.

There was NEVER an indication MJ was doing anything like that and her actions actually contradicted event he idea of her doing any of that stuff.

The net responses are to the statement that Doc Ock was a gentleman who would treat women with respect.

“Keyword there, 'was' a gentlemen. I can imagine after years of defeats at the hands of Spidey, certain habits would change and he wouldn't care anymore.

It could have just been a subtle change that no one really noticed. He did try and end the world before #700 if I recall right.”

You need to SHOW those habits changing. The last major Doctor Octopus story before BND was in JMS’s run when he was very much a gentleman. You can’t just say his illness and defeats suddenly transformed him into a would be rapist. It’s utterly out of character for him. It’d be like bringing back Ben Reilly and making him a mass murderer. WHY is he a mass murderer.

(Fun fact. The stuff I bolded about Ben Reilly was something I wrote at the time. I kept it in because of how sadly ironic it wound up being…fuck Clone Conspiracy seriously)

Ending the world before #700 is one thing IN Doc Ock’s character. He is egotistical and wants acknowledgement of his genius.

Superior depicted him going against a character trait he’s always had. In his origin story, when he was ‘courting’ Aunt May, when he was involved with Stunner and Lady Octopus and the like he has always been show to have a respect for women and not had to resort to cheap ploys to woo them.

In Superior he was trading off of MJ’s relationship with Peter and Peter’s memories to basically abuse this woman. That is beneath Doctor Octopus. He is an intellectual a man for whom such actions are debase, the realm of the common thug whilst he is much more he is DOCTOR OCTOPUS.

BTW in Web of Death it was established that Doc Ock probably would not target MJ or Peter’s family even though he knew Peter’s identity.

So for him to suddenly switch to ‘I’m gonna fuck his girlfriend to get one over on him” is again utterly out of character.

‘Web of Death’ was co-written by Tom DeFalco btw, who established Otto’s origin. Thus the argument is flying in the face of someone who helped define the character with no explanation at all.

Slott had done this with other characters like Ashley Kafka.Suddenly the most naively compassionate woman in the world who believed she could redeem CARNAGE is saying this lesser serial killer is a complete monster. That is piss poor writing.

Even if Slott WERE to establish and show how Ock went from one extreme to the other it doesn’t make it a good idea. Doc Ock would be rapist is a lot less interesting than Doc Ock the lone super villain who is part gentleman and part humanitarian with a respect for women. If this was Norman Osborn in Peter’s body, or Electro, or Shocker I’d believe these actions.

The topic then changed to Carlie Cooper’s depiction in Superior as a goddam idiot who isn’t even telling MJ Peter might  be evil. “Red Hood wrote: Carlie and Wraith followed Ock’s paper trail because she knows for fact that peter parker doesnt have the money to fund his own private army, the reason she hasnt said anything is because it's not such a good idea to go pointing fingers without absolute truth, remember eddie brock and how he was so sure about the sin eater?”

Carlie’s investigation was going incredibly sloooooooooooooooooowly. Not only was it dull reading, but it made her completely unsympathetic. Why not warn Mary Jane by saying “Look before he died Doc Ock told me he and Spider-Man had swapped bodies. I’m not saying Peter IS Doc Ock but just....be careful MJ”.

Or why not inform the Avengers or Fantastic Four about this. Sure the Avengers gave him a physical but they wouldn’t know what to look for. And why is Carlie Cooper all of a sudden saying “Wait I KNOW Peter doesn’t have this kind of cash so this is a big clue that he isn’t himself.” When her first big clue should have been that time Spider-Man SHOT SOMEONE IN THE FACE!

“also peter and mj arent married anymore.”

See above.

You don’t just suddenly fall out of knowing someone if you’ve been THAT close to them and known them for that long just because suddenly you are not married anymore. She has deduced subtle differences in the Chameleon and clones before this but Ock is NOT being subtle whatsoever. He isn’t even talking the same way he normally does. And Mister Red Hood even says so himself, Carlie can tell right way. His co-workers whom he’s known for LESS THAN A YEAR can tell something is up. But the woman who’s been closer to him than ANYONE in his life, she can’t tell. That is bullshit of the highest order.

“1. mj and peter arent married anymore, idk if they were married in identity crisis but remember how after the deal with mephisto they were separated for x amount of years before she even came back to new york, i can see her not being able to tell peter is acting different at that point. aunt may and the avengers though don't get a pass especially when carlie who knew him the least could tell right away.”

See above.

You don’t just suddenly fall out of knowing someone if you’ve been THAT close to them and known them for that long just because suddenly you are not married anymore. She has deduced subtle differences in the Chameleon and clones before this but Ock is NOT being subtle whatsoever. He isn’t even talking the same way he normally does. And Mister Red Hood even says so himself, Carlie can tell right way. His co-workers whom he’s known for LESS THAN A YEAR can tell something is up. But the woman who’s been closer to him than ANYONE in his life, she can’t tell. That is bullshit of the highest order.

When you separate from someone you’ve been that close to those feelings don’t just disappear. This is especially true of people who’ve been through immensely traumatic events together. Soldiers often find that only fellow soldiers, specifically ones who were with them in combat, can truly understand what they went through and how they felt. It creates an emotional/mental bond. Same thing here. Peter and Mary Jane went through Venom, Kraven’s Last Hunt, the death of Harry, Gwen, aunt May, Ben Reilly, the clone saga as a whole, Civil War, Peter’s OWN death, Maximum Carnage and so on. They’d have that kind of connection I was speaking about, you don’t just forget it to the point where you let MASSIVE differences in behaviour slide, especially massive differences in behaviour which are different to the way he was acting LAST WEEK!

“3. Also i don't think his  [Doc Ock’s] actions are entirely out of character, i mean he was dead, then revived, beat down for several years into a dying body. given time to think about all the things you would do if given another chance i dont think its out of the question for doc to say "great, second chance at life with a movie starhottie gf". also if you'll threaten the city, then the world, then mind swap with someone i dont think having sex is that big a stretch.”

See my comments above why this IS out of character for Doc Ock. Again this isn’t just him wanting to get laid this is him potentially date raping an innocent woman. You need to SHOW the progression of that change

And rape in comic book fiction is understood to be worse  from the reader’s POV than the various Saturday Morning Cartoon style crimes he’s pulled.

The next comment was in response to the public’s indifference towards Spider-Man shooting Massacre in the face! “7. As far as no one caring about massacre, didn't he break out a few times and inflict his namesake? no one is going to care that a killer like that gets shot, humans aren't dignified at all. i can see aunt may saying something but no one else is going to be like "oh great that killer is back in jail, too bad all criminals break out" no they're going to be like "finally someone put down this thug, maybe my life or someone i care about will be spared from him at least in the future" and maybe it was caught on security cameras or phones but maybe they deleted it, i mean spider-man just shot a dude in the face and if he wanted there would be nothing anyone could do to stop him from putting the hurt on someone else”

This is just rubbish.

No one is going to care? For God’s sake the police in real life get reprimanded for using unnecessary force.

The law is the law you CANNOT publically execute an unarmed man. And my point was no one, not even Mary Jane or Jonah, were reacting to this mind-blowingly out of character action on the part of Spider-Man. Maybe they do not care that Massacre was killed but they should be wondering “Jesus that’s not like Spider-Man at all”. This was Spider-Man becoming absolutely EVERYTHING Jameson ever falsely accused him of and no one reacted. And I am sorry but the attitude of ‘human’s aren’t dignified so they’d react like THIS” is extremely broad and generalised. This would be a major talking point and a major issue. This is EXACTLY what the entire ‘Civil War’ debacle was about. Super heroes running unchecked doing as they pleased. It’s been what, a year tops Marvel time since Civil War? If that stuff was deleted YOU NEED TO SHOW IT. The cover story is that EVERYONE in that massive crowd covered for him. That is in no way shape or form how humans actually act. And who would there be to stop like a teenager or a kid or a lone person in the crowd from tweeting “OMG Spider-Man just shot this dude” or uploading a video or picture. They were CHEERING him on they wouldn’t be afraid of him being reprimanded. Once something like that hit the internet it’d spread like wildfire, it wouldn’t be something that if immediately taken down would die away, especially when THE NEWS was stating Spider-Man had ‘neutralised Massacre’ and then Massacre shows up dead, WTF would the public THINK happened?

“Aaron Alexander Luthor wrote: Superior is an excellent title, but I feel you approached it having already made up your mind. Doc Ock NEVER attempted date rape, and I don't know where you get that from”

Boy, I wonder where I got the idea of Otto trying to rape MJ from? What an obviously ‘excellent’ title.

Trying to sleep with Mary Jane whilst tricking her into thinking he is Peter Parker then that is categorically trying to date rape her. He didn’t go through with it because he discovered he could just wank off to her memories (I can’t believe I wrote that) but that is exactly what he was trying to do. Maybe to HIM he didn’t think of it as rape but yeah that’s exactly what it was.

“He ripped off his own shirt, not hers.”

I honestly have no idea what he’s talking about here btw.

“Mary Jane had/has mentioned several times that there is something wrong with him and that she thinks there is something strange going on, he also hasn't spoken to her in weeks in the time frame of the comic.”

Yes MJ has noticed passingly things are wrong but then he feeds her a line and she buys it or otherwise she dismisses it herself. This in monumentally out of character for her given her history and makes her incredibly stupid, which is the ONLY way this title could have worked out. Again, she lives in a world of Skrulls, clones, LMDs and shape shifters one of which is literally an enemy of Peter’s and has tried impersonating him multiple times (targeting her specifically twice). But she either doesn’t clock anything is wrong or doesn’t really react when she does. And he HAD spoken to her within weeks by the time or Superior #2.

“Same goes for Aunt May, he visited her the first few weeks as Parker, and hasnt spoken to her since. He is basically ignoring the people in Peter's life, and they have taken notice.”

See my response about Aunt May not knowing. Again, this woman RAISED him and she could tell when the master of disguise who was being a lot more subtle about impersonating Peter was not her son/nephew.

Also he wasn’t exactly ignoring  the HORIZON labs staff was he?

“When he killed Massacre, some of the civilians were shocked and appalled, but when the police investigated all the officers on the scene lied for Spidey, because they think he did the right thing. That is why the only officers still interested are Carlie Cooper who does know, and is ACTIVELY trying to prove it isnt Peter, and Captain Watanabe aka The Wraith”

My point about NO ONE taking photos, tweeting, facebooking or whatever still stands as does the security cameras thing and the fact that Massacre was TRYING TO GET PUBLICITY. Again with Carlie why is she not warning SOMEBODY at this point. It isn’t like they wouldn’t believe her after Massacre. It isn’t like Spider-Man isn’t acting weird. It isn’t like body swapping is a legit THING in the Marvel universe. For God’s sake this happened to Captain America!

Kaine, the CLONE of Peter Parker with identical memories and everything. In the Sibling Rivaly crossover between Scarlet Spider and Superior Team-Up even HE couldn’t tell that Peter. Was an imposter This guy doesn’t just know Peter well, he IS Peter. And Otto was ranting none too subtley about how Kaine has bad blood with HIM. He doesn’t say he’s Doc Ock but he’s conveying unsubtly to Kaine that he is not Peter Parker and he is not TALKING like Peter Parker either. When his CLONE is still operating under the delusion that he is Peter Parker that’s put it beyond doubt this was ridiculously contrived.

“BTW, Carlie and MJ have talked about the suspicious way Pete has been acting, Carlie just hasnt told MJ directly.”

WHY didn’t Carlie tell MJ! And WHY were she and Peter noticing Peter’s different actions yet being totally blasé about them.

FFS in ‘Kraven’s Last Hunt’ MJ and Peter had been married for just 2 weeks and in that time she was able to deduce from his actions that the guy in the Spider-Man suit was NOT Peter. In the Mark of Kaine an identical clone of Peter approaches her and she is ultimately able to tell (twice) that he is not her husband. And she did this whilst pregnant and stressed out from a life or death situation to say nothing of the fact that Aunt May had recently died which would be weighing on her mind. Yet in Superior her mind was clearer and she was still buying this was Peter. This is enormously bad out of character writing for her

“As for the Avengers scans, it wasnt that no one could read them, its that they all came back NORMAL.”

No, the scans DID NOT come back normal at all. Doc Ock looked at the scans and could TELL something was not normal because he saw ghost Peter was in his mind. Yeah there was a tiny inconsistency in the brain waves but why the heck weren’t there people on the Avengers team that day to take note of stuff like that. Cap, Wolverine, Black Widow and Thor are obviously NOT going to be able to properly read this scientific equipment like Iron Man or Hank Pym or the Beast. ANY of those guys would’ve been able to tell but no only the Avengers who categorically would not be able to properly read the brainwaves were there. Why? Why get the unscientific Avengers? Because of plot contrivances is why.

And where were the telepaths? One telepathic scan from SOMEBODY should have told all. And again these tests come back normal....no one thought he could be a clone? Spider-Man has joked to these people about his clones, they know about them. Correct me if I am wrong but at the time of the Avenger’s physical of Peter wasn’t there a character involved with the Avengers who was supposed to be the living universe? SHE couldn’t tell Doc Ock is Spider-Man? The universe literally didn’t know this?

“Even Dr. Strange and Wolverines tests all came back regular.”

If Dr. Strange with all his power wasn’t able to deduce the truth that’s even MORE contrived!

And what the heck were Wolverine’s test? That he smelt the same? Of course he would.

“There was a tiny inconsistency in the brainwaves, it wasnt that no one could read it, its that it was so small that no one would even take notice of it, except for Peter or Ock if they were to look for it.”

See above for why this is bullshit.

“And the Avengers are STILL very suspicious, if you read the current titles.”

At the time a ‘current title’ was  Superior Team Up #1.

In it the Avengers told him they were wrong to put him in probation and are still just ‘suspicious’ when he INVADED SHADOWLAND WITH AN ARMY!. Because THAT’S so usual for Spider-Man right?

“You're entitled to your opinion, but you cant just make up facts and call it a discussion. I get the impression that you a)Havent read the whole series; b) Had already made up your mind before reading the issues you have read; and c) Havent read the companion stories (i.e. Avenging Spider-Man, Superior Team-up, Hickman's Avengers titles). If you look at the story as a whole, its actually quite good.”

Said the guy who got all the above information I outlined WRONG.

From a technical point of view it doesn’t make sense, it uses contrivances and out of character writing to keep it going. You want to write Doc Ock as Spider-Man. Okay then don’t surround him with people who should be able to figure this out. Or say there is some kind of device redirecting their attention.

Don’t have Doc Ock not act like Doc Ock because that defeats the point of the exercise. Don’t go for deliberate sensationalism or crass storytelling which was essentially everything revolving around him hooking up with Mary Jane and then the oh so lovely page of the Superior Spider-Wanker.

That issue in particular even resolved itself in a contrived manner. Doc Ock begins uttering gibberish which recalled One Moment in Time about “we cannot be together because it’s an unsolvable equation blah blah blah”.

Basically he is saying “I can never be with you because of the danger I put you in”; which is Slott using the character as a mouthpiece.

In the next issue Otto began courting a student at his college because consistency rocks. Even Ghost Peter is out of character at this moment “WOW Ock you did the one thing I could never do and walked away from Mary Jane”. Peter is right he probably can’t walk away from Mary Jane but...does he WANT to? Where the heck is this coming from? What is worse is that it’s so unnecessary. There was a MUCH better explanation for Ock breaking up with MJ. If Ock were in character he could just come to the conclusion that sleeping with MJ under these circumstances would be wrong and beneath him hence he wouldn’t go through with it. If Ock was out of character as he was in their issue but still vaguely in character he could just come to the conclusions that since accessing Peter’s memories he’s begun to have genuine feelings for MJ and doesn’t just want to fuck her, it would involve him having a relationship with here which at this point in time he is incapable of, he doesn’t know how to handle it. I will wholeheartedly admit I was not jazzed about the concept of Superior from the outset. If nothing else I want to read about Peter Parker not Doc Ock and if I did want to read about Doc Ock AS Doc Ock, not as Spider-Man and not as an rotting body.

An arc in a comic is one thing doing this long term all the problems I foresaw have come up as well as some I didn’t even predict. This could have worked if Doc Ock was separated from Peter’s supporting cast who should be able to tell something is amiss but then that defeats a lot of the point of the story. It was a lose-lose situation.

People can enjoy garbage if you want but don’t call it gold.

Part 1

[the-fae-folk]

You have spoken of the crown of shadows being lost, is there still a court of shadows? What can you tell of this court? A story? Is darkness evil, good or perhaps in a limbo between. The shadows and dark have always been a peaceful yet hauntingly beautiful place to me. The way objects and lights are obscured makes one feel like their in an entirely different world, it would be wonderful if you could explain this feeling to me

Darkness is not evil. Darkness is merely the absence of light. Evil things can hide in the shadows, unnoticed, unseen, forgotten. That is why so many people fear the dark. Because of the possibility of danger, the not knowing. They are afraid of what might be, because they do not know what is.There once was a Court of Shadows. A long time ago. They dwelt in a place of darkness. The sky was black. There were no stars, no moon, and no sun. But this place was no wasteland. It was a forest. Growing slowly in the dark, finding light of its own, anything to survive. Bioluminescence, magic, and fire. Stags whose antlers sprouted ghost like flames from the tips, birds that could spread their wings to reveal glowing feathers, and lantern fish swimming through the air. Trees that produced glowing fruits to attract animals that would spread the seeds, ferns and mushrooms that would give off light when disturbed, and pitcher plants that lured unsuspecting prey inwards with a soft enticing light.This place was a place of will ‘o the wisps, guiding lights that lead to doom. It was a place for those who wished to remain unseen, for those who preferred to keep their secrets.In the center of the woods was a city of tents. They had no desire to disturb or change their woods, so even their rulers slept in tents instead of a palace. Few of this court took human forms, though all could look however they desired. Instead they appeared as animals and beasts. Wolves and crows, ravens and owls, mice and foxes, badgers and raccoons, squirrels and ferrets, stoats and otters, serpents and wildcats, and all manner of different creatures of the woods. This city of tents was the center of the Kingdom of Luminare Tenebris, the Court of Shadows.But things changed. One day there came someone new. We do not know who he was, just that he did not belong, that his very presence was wrong somehow. Not just there in the shadowlands of Luminare Tenebris, but in Faerie itself. This man was powerful and held a strange pernicious aura about him.We did not reject him. Not at first. For that was not our way. The Court of Shadows is a place for those who have nowhere else. So we welcomed him in despite his wrongness. It would be our undoing.The Court of Shadows had always been a place of feral behavior. Wildness. Untamed violence and dark impulses. But it had never been a place of evil. Never a place of needless cruelty. That changed. Wrath grew quietly, building until we were at each others throats for even the smallest of things. We were greedy and filled with envy for what we didn’t have. Others were prideful and arrogant, demanding or commanding, feeling entitlement to everything. Some withdrew altogether, avoiding conflict where before they would have offered arbitration and mediation. What had once been a place of wildness and dark, it had become a place of hate.When at last the chaos had grown to outright civil war, our mysterious visitor stepped from the shadows where he had been watching. In his hand he carried a torch of dark fire. Flames born from the violence and cruelty, from the wrath and hatred, from the fear that we were creating under his influence. They burned black, blacker than the shadows, blacker than the spaces between stars. With that dark fire he ravaged our kingdom, scattered our people, and destroyed the Court of Shadows. He fought with our King, who had watched with horror as we descended into madness. Tooth and claw, fire and maw they fought.At long last they both fell there. The King’s crown clattered to the earth alongside the still burning torch of dark fire. And our forest burned. Burned as we fled to all the distant corners of Faerie, hiding in shadows and whimpering at the light. Dark flames and dancing shadows. The Crown was never found. Nor has our King returned. Faeries cannot die. But we know not where he has gone, nor what became of that terrible enemy.One day, perhaps, we may learn the truth. But for now...all that’s left...are shadows.

[eabhaalynn]

An Open Letter to the 31 Signatories of the Recall Petition - 18/10/19

Dear MLA

I am writing to articulate my concern and disdain upon hearing that you signed a recall petition calling for the NI Assembly at Stormont to sit this Monday October 21st, especially given the timing of this petition.

This week, we reached one thousand days since we’ve had a functioning assembly. That has been one thousand days of our political decisions being made – not by you, our elected representatives – but by unelected civil servants.

I have come of age in a period of - to put it lightly - political discourse. I am eighteen. When the assembly last sat, I was fifteen. In the time that has elapsed I have gained ten GCSEs three A-levels with an extra AS and got into my dream degree at a brilliant University in England. It was when we reached a year, and then eventually eighteen months without an Assembly, while I continued my studies at excellent schools under excellent teachers in Northern Ireland and watched those schools suffer under your lack of direction and leadership, I decided I could not remain in Northern Ireland any longer than I needed to. I am officially a part of the great ‘brain drain’ of rural Ireland, and I am going to be a great doctor someday in England.

This hurts me. Because I am so proud to be Northern Irish, and I am so proud of my Irish heritage, and I am even prouder again of the place the people of Northern Ireland have made for themselves in the twenty-one years since the Good Friday Agreement. In a deeply divided Society, I have grown up with friends from any and all political and religious persuasion, with all sorts of views on the very issues that have finally brought you back to work. But I could not have stayed in a nation that places the breaching declared human rights from women, pregnant people and the LGBT community, at a higher importance than such vital public services as the NHS and education.

The NHS is something I care very passionately about. I have worked within it, I have spoken to patients and families about waiting lists that are completely unsustainable and unfair on patients and doctors alike, that are out of our control but certainly not out of yours. I have shadowed doctors, nurses and social workers across disciplines in the NHS, who have been working above and beyond their workloads while you looked on doing nothing. I have even been a patient in the NHS at both a Primary and Secondary Care level and experienced the dedication of these health professionals to their work in a time where the service crumbled around them due to you, your party and your assembly’s ineptitude.

While I gathered all of this work and life experience, while I grew up, while you have been taking an all too conveniently timed furlough from work, and before I fled your shambolic elected office at home, I even managed to change schools. After studying at a rural, Catholic non grammar school for five years, I made the jump to St Louis Grammar in Ballymena. This allowed me to pursue my career in medicine in a way I simply would not have been able to if I had stayed at my previous school. Luckily, I thrived at St Louis, and proudly identify as a St Louis alum, but the fact I had to do this is a disgrace. My school was not sufficiently funded to offer the courses I needed at A-Level. It certainly has the calibre of teachers and students; it gets people into medicine almost every year. But it could not have provided me with the subjects I needed to achieve the future which has become my present. This is not the school’s problem. This is a funding problem. The school, like most other schools across the country, is suffering because it is being inadequately supported by the very executive and assembly that was founded to enable it to thrive. But that doesn’t bother you enough to have you sign a recall petition, now, does it? It is now a full two years since I left that school. Its retention rates are going down, along with its budget. Teachers and their students are suffering. Living, born, children are suffering. But to me, the concerned constituent, it appears the plight of children doesn’t bother you after they’ve left the womb?

As I mentioned previously, I moved to St Louis Grammar, where I thrived. St Louis enabled me to sit A-Level politics where I was taught about the functioning of the assembly, which, in my lower sixth, had ‘only’ been down for nine months. Politics informed me on the issues which mattered to me, and those which have mattered to you and your party, and how deeply different they are.

I was raised in a very nationalist area. I was raised Catholic, though I acknowledge my faith is now lapsed. My entire background is catholic and nationalist, and I am as culturally Irish as it gets. Sectarianism was never an issue for me. I never defined people by what church they went to, or what Nationality they said they were. Northern Irish is British, it’s Irish, it’s both. That is a messy but beautiful thing to me, no one else has a country as demographically exciting as we do. This is why I am so disgusted at the blatant sectarianism informing your actions over the last three years, encompassing the lead up to and the collapse of the institutions, and the rhetoric that has been used about Nationalist politicians and their supporters in the time since. Evidently, I care deeply about politics. But I don’t feel represented by any of you! I know from my a-level that representation is one of your main jobs, the only one of the three functions of your role as an MLA that should continue in the absence of the legislature – don’t worry, I wouldn’t expect you to legislate and scrutinise too, that’d be holding my expectations too high.

St Louis also taught me the power of sectarianism that remains in Northern Ireland today. Ballymena remains a dominantly Protestant town, and St Louis’ is the only Catholic grammar there. This almost trebled my Protestant friends, but also reminded me that not everyone was raised in as anti-sectarian manner as I was. While I went for after class coffees with my friends from other schools in the town, indicating other denominations, we would get sneered at. When I went to study in the central library, in the dominantly unionist side of town, I would be met with sectarian abuse, with everything from ‘educated fucking fenian scum’ to having middle aged men spit on me, simply for wearing my school uniform.

You breed this culture, and you have bred this culture for the last three years, by refusing to speak to your political opponents. Once again, your constituents are suffering. Public relations are suffering, hate crime is on an exponential growth curve and you have done nothing but exacerbate these problems for the entire length of time I have been on the electoral register, and even longer again. You, your whole party, the whole assembly (yes, both sides) should be ashamed.

So why did this not push you back to power sharing? Why were ordinary civilians giving and receiving abuse to each other not enough to encourage you to get back into work? How, in your own conscious, is it acceptable for adults to verbally abuse children for their perceived religion in Northern Ireland in 2018-19?

What it did take to get you back to work was the thought of women and the LGBT+ community gaining rights in line with the rest of the United Kingdom which you hold so dear.

I have detailed in this letter how much Northern Ireland has suffered at the hands of your ineptitude and the institutional sectarianism over the last three years. This doesn’t even begin to describe how much the women of Northern Ireland who have had to travel to access what is, essentially, healthcare, have suffered as a consequence of the law here and of the culture of fear you are perpetuating.

I hope you never know what it is like to experience a crisis pregnancy. I hope you are never raped. I hope you are never a victim of incest. I hope these things never happen to me either. But the fact remains, these things happen. They happen every day to women all over Northern Ireland, and they happen to our sisters in Britain and in the Republic of Ireland too. I just rest easier at night knowing that in the most awful of circumstances, I now live under a jurisdiction that values my bodily autonomy.

There is a reasoned argument against abortion, and I do understand, if disagree, with it. But what I cannot understand is how you place removing this right from the women you were elected to serve at a higher priority than educating their children once they are born or providing those who take care of them with the resources they so desperately need.

This letter doesn’t even begin to detail the plight Northern Ireland’s LGBT+ youth. This is because I have no first-hand experience of this myself, but I have watched friends’ mental health suffer consistently, at the hands of an Executive that fundamentally sees them as inferior. How can we keep letting our children grow up in a society like this? How can you claim to be a Christian while allowing those who you’re supposed to represent to suffer the worst mental health epidemic in Northern Irelands history? How can you speak so horribly of the young people that should be your country’s future, simply for how they identify or who they love?

You do not represent me. Your actions this week have only further confirmed this. You are failing at not only your legislative and scrutiny roles, but now – officially – you are failing at your representative role too.

Yours Sincerely,

Eabha Lynn

[devilsknotrp]

THE BLUEJAY

Age: Thirty Occupation: Bartender, The Bar Personality: Rebellious, adventurous, charismatic; non-committal, self-denying, guarded. Faceclaim: Peter Gadiot

TRIGGER WARNINGS FOR IMPLIED DOMESTIC ABUSE

One of Perry’s earliest memories is his father, Sal, screaming at him. Sal was a hard but useless man, a sloppy drunk and a deadbeat, forever losing money and friends and fucking up in increasingly imaginative ways. Perry hated him in an intense and unrepentant way, and did not shed a tear when, shortly after the Phillip Silverman incident, Sal went missing. Turns out he died in a pool of his own vomit, but for a moment there Perry wished Sal had done something truly idiotic, like murder. At least that would justify how strongly he felt about his so-called father. Devil’s Knot was not kind to Perry, but, really, he could not give a rat’s. The community had long ago decided he was worth less than nothing, so he suffered all manner of minor injustices growing up. He was a “bad seed”, and he could never change their minds. Perry is gay. As soon as the trial was over, he and his then-boyfriend, Bobby Davies, jacked Sal’s old car and drove as far away as they could. All Perry wanted was to be alone with Bobby, forever. No more sneaking around. But things happened, and when they broke up in that parking lot somewhere in California, Perry had nowhere else to go except back where he belonged, in a place that saw him as little more than the dirt on their boots. Perry lives a private life and keeps to himself. His apartment is small, cozy, and unexpectedly neat; a result of a turbulent, disaffected childhood, he supposes. Perry is not out and only occasionally drives a few towns over to go to certain bars. Even he needs comfort sometimes.

ROBERT “BOBBY” DAVIES → The ex-boyfriend, have not spoken, unresolved tension. FRANKIE ESPOSITO → Brother, used to be estranged, difficult on-off relationship, generally civil, blood is blood.  MANDY SILVERMAN, MARY HAWKER, MICHAEL “MIKE” HAWKER, JENNY TAYLOR →  Childhood friends, slightly estranged, once the “Scooby Gang”. BLANCA SCHMIDT →  New friend, bonded over the fact they’re black sheep, a lot in common, often hang out together playing pool. ZIG LEHMANN  → Old classmate, never saw eye to eye, spits insults at each other. CHARLIE TAYLOR → Acquaintance, he comes into the bar a lot, they talk.

Perry is TAKEN

[temptation-narnia-chronicles]

From Upon the Golden Thrones

Episode 25: Mother Narnia

               Autumn had once again befallen Narnia and with it, the country had grown rather hectic with preparations. The construction for Susan’s orphanage had finally reached its completion, Mrs. Beaver helping to add the finishing touches for it’s grand opening. Susan often ventured off to oversee the progress, ensuring that everything was just so. She had truly grown rather frantic and obsessive over it, but such was only natural with a project as grand as this.

               “I’m sure everything will be fine” Lucy assured the gentle. Susan peered over the paperwork cluttering her desk, trying to organize her thoughts. The youngest queen placed a gentle hand on her sister’s shoulder to steady her mind. “You’re doing a good thing, Susan. The Narnians are going to be so grateful for this, I promise. Try not to worry yourself!”

               “I know, Lu” Susan replied, voice worn out. “I suppose I’m just nervous. This is a rather grand affair and I’m scared of something going wrong. All the dignitaries in the neighboring lands will be in attendance and I want to make a good impression. I want them to see what I’ve done and to feel proud and impressed.” Lucy nodded in understanding, though she continued to reassure her sister that everything would be fine. In her mind, there was nothing to fear. Susan glanced back over her paperwork, eyes shifting to a stack of returned RSVPs. Almost all of the neighboring countries had agreed to come, including one particular family of interest.

               The morning sun beat down on the docks as the Pevensies rushed to greet their guests. Lucy clasped her sister’s hand as they nodded and smiled at each lord and lady that approached, Tumnus and the Beavers escorting them inside and showing them to their chambers. And then there was her. Peter’s heart leapt into his throat as he saw a familiar blonde woman step off the ship, calling behind her something about her trunks. She was dressed in a rather airy pink gown with her hair piled high atop her head and adorned with a small feathered hat tilted just so. She turned and scurried down the docks to wrap her arms around Susan jovially, shrieking with delight and congratulating her. Susan hugged her back, thanking her profusely for coming.

               “Well, it was a little short notice but I wouldn’t worry, darling. I’m here, aren’t I?” she replied. Peter knew her in an instant. Standing before him was none other than Ginevra of Brenn.

               His cheeks grew hot and his hands began to twitch at his sides. Of all the guests he was expecting to greet this morning, she was certainly not one of them. Her father, Duke Rochester, followed close behind, grinning at the four monarchs and bowing down low to them.

               “A fine morning, your majesties” he greeted.

               “It’s wonderful to see you, Duke Rochester. How was your trip?” Susan asked.

               “Oh, absolutely dreadful!” Ginevra replied. “It was such a long journey, and the seas were so unforgiving, I could barely stand it!”

               Duke Rochester chuckled and nodded, then added, “But luckily we made it in one piece, didn’t we, Ginny?” Ginevra nodded quickly, then began rambling about how beautiful Cair Paravel looked and how excited she was to see the inside. Susan told her once she was settled into her chamber, she would have to give the girl a tour. “And it’s wonderful to see you again, as well, your majesty” Duke Rochester then said, turning and bowing to Peter.

               “The pleasure is all mine” he replied. He tried his best to keep his composure but his eyes kept flitting back to Ginevra, and hers to him. Before being escorted inside, she bowed and smiled curtly at him, greeting him with the utmost civility and politeness. He watched her walk away and a mild relief washed over him. Despite their conversation before leaving Brenn, he still feared interaction between them. Old habits die hard, after all, and for all he knew whatever he said could very well have not stuck. He was grateful to find that so far, she was perfectly pleasant but that meant nothing. He couldn’t stop thinking about her the entire rest of the morning, as the remaining guests filtered out of their vessels and into the castle. While relieved to find her behaving so appropriately, at the same time he felt almost bothered by her courtly manner. He expected something far more extroverted of her, even if he didn’t necessarily want it. Now that he knew that was not what he was getting, though, his mind raced. She was much harder to read like this, playing things lowkey and collected. Perhaps deep down, he really did want some sort of reaction from her. Perhaps he wanted her to say something to him, to show him some sort of sign that the feelings she had expressed still existed. That wasn’t to say he was at all ready for another relationship, not in the slightest, and yet…feeling wanted was nice, he supposed.

               “I wish you would’ve warned me first” Peter whispered to his sister as they filed back inside the castle. “I wasn’t exactly prepared to face Ginevra today.”

               Susan sighed and smoothed her hair. “Out of all the other things I’ve had to do in preparation for this event, and you’re complaining about this?” she huffed.

               The magnificent blinked a few times, having not expected his sister to grow so short with him. He truly appreciated all the hard work she was doing in order for everything to run smoothly, but he had to admit a little notice at least would’ve been nice. He opened his mouth to speak, but Lucy placed a hand on his forearm and shot him a secondary gaze. A gaze that told him to rethink. Susan did not need this additional stress right now. He looked to her once more, studying the bags under her eyes and the tight clench of her fists, and closed his mouth.

               Lucy tightened her shawl around her shoulders as she stood beside her siblings in the orphanage’s atrium. Everything was in order: the dignitaries were waiting, the ribbon was ready to be cut, Peter had his sword ready at his side. Susan read her speech over once, twice, as many as five times in an effort to ensure she did not mess up at all. She paced the little enclosure the entire time.  

               “Su, I feel like I’m watching a one-woman tennis match” Edmund remarked. The gentle shot him a dirty look. Peter placed a hand on Edmund’s shoulder.

               “Just let her be, Ed. She’s nervous, and understandably so” the High King commented.

               “You’re one to talk, Peter!” Lucy laughed. She could tell that he, too, was internalizing panic and she knew exactly why. Out there, among the crowd, was Ginevra. In the past two days since she had arrived, Peter had hardly spoken to her let alone even looked her in the eyes. She, too, kept her distance from him, an awkward energy pulsing between them. Unspoken words and ignored feelings begged to surface.

               Peter shook his head, a pleading in his eyes for Lucy not to bring it up. He didn’t want to think about such things. He didn’t want to make his anxiety worse not only for his own sake but for Susan’s as well. If he started having a panic attack, surely it would trigger an even greater one from her. Susan had worked far too hard the past year to get here, he didn’t dare ruin her day. They needed to be gentle with her, at least until all of this had passed. She deserved an environment of tranquility while she prepared.

               The door to the atrium creaked open and Mrs. Beaver peered inside. “Are you ready, love?” she asked the gentle queen. Susan’s eyes grew wide with shock.

               “What? It can’t possibly be time, I’m—I’m not ready yet!” she protested. If only she had been wearing a watch to confirm her suspicions, but Mrs. Beaver simply toddled forward and took Susan’s hand in hers.

               “Don’t you worry, dear. Everything will be fine” she reassured. “They’re all waiting for you!” Susan giggled nervously, glanced over her shoulder to her siblings in desperation. Peter shot her a kind smile, motioning for the others to follow suit. This was a family affair, after all, and even if it wasn’t, it was their job as siblings to support one another. As they reached the makeshift stage in front of the building, Susan paused to collect herself. She smoothed her skirts, perfected her hair, dabbed some color on her lips, sucked in a deep breath, and then nodded to Mrs. Beaver to alert that she was ready. Mr. Beaver announced her and motioned for her to step forward, and it was as if all the panic had melted away. Susan held herself gracefully and confidently, stepping to the middle of the stage with parchment in hand. Her siblings couldn’t help but smile as they watched her and followed to stand nearby.

               The gentle gazed out to all the faces in the crowd staring back at her and swallowed hard. She could not let them see her panic. They needed to understand she was a poised and proper queen, one avid in public speaking and social affairs. She felt as if she was a child in school again giving a presentation on the history of Marie Antoinette or the colonization of the Americas. This, however, was nothing like a school presentation. These were not her peers but her equals, those in high positions of power who would not grade her for accuracy but judge her silently and create their own perceptions of her country based on the way she carried herself. This was, perhaps, the one part of being a queen that she hated more than anything.

               There was no backing down now, though. She had to do what she had to do. Clearing her throat, she glanced down to her parchment and began her speech. “Ladies and gentleman from far and wide, I want to begin by thanking you all for being here today. I know it means as much to me as it does to my brothers and sister that you were able to be in attendance” she began. Vacant eyes stared back at her, making her question her form and diction. She continued regardless. “A year and a half ago, my siblings and I were appointed kings and queens of this lovely country and have since wanted nothing more than to provide it with everything it may need now and in the coming years. We love our country more than anything. We’re proud of our country. It is not without its flaws, however. One such flaw I saw across all regions, however, was that of wayward children. Our nation is comprised mainly of Intelligent Beasts, and in a land of such wonderful creatures, there is bound to be strife and turmoil at some point in their lives. Many of these Beasts, especially during the reign of the White Witch, Jadis, were senselessly killed for reasons beyond comprehension, thus leaving their children to fend for themselves. Children unable to take care of themselves and live on their own. Hence why I decided that the best course of action would be to build a safe place for them, somewhere they can be provided a warm bed and food and drink and a sense of companionship and safety. I have poured my heart and soul into this orphanage in order to ensure it will provide everything necessary for the proper development of wayward children now and into the future. My siblings can account for the many nights my comrades and I have spent planning, designing, and constructing such a place. I am overwhelmed with joy to see it finally completed, and hope it will welcome those in need with warmth and love and comfort.” She glanced around at the crowd once again, searching for a sign of pride or happiness in their faces. After a few moments, a wave of clapping erupted among them and Susan’s fears began to subside. She looked to her older brother, signaling it was time. He nodded and stepped forward, unsheathing his sword and handing it to her. It was heavy in her hands, a weapon she was not used to, but she wielded it decently enough. “And so, without further ado, our Narnian orphanage is officially open!” she announced, then sliced through the ribbon with the blade. Another roar of clapping erupted, and Susan’s eyes fell on a proudly grinning Ginevra. The blonde gave the gentle a brief motion of happiness and pride, something Narnian in nature that equated to a thumbs-up in London. And then her eyes locked with Peter’s for the first time since she had arrived and he felt his heart race in his chest. He averted his eyes quickly, and her face fell slightly. Peter quickly sheathed his sword and regained composure so that nobody would know that inside his head, all he heard was inconsolable screaming.

               All of the guests congratulated Susan and enthused of how wonderful a job she did, how beautiful an orphanage it was, and how kind and generous an act this was. Surely the Narnian children would take to it as if it was their own home. Even the Narnians themselves thanked her for creating such a fine establishment, finding relief in knowing that there was someplace for their children to go should something ever happen to them.

               As evening set in, everyone returned to Cair Paravel for a grand reception. A band of fauns played roaring, raucous music for all the guests to jig and leap to, and there were long tables filled with the most delicious food. Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy sat at a grand table overlooking the whole of the garden and all of their guests. A wistful smile touched the now-tranquil Susan’s lips as she took another sip of her wine. “I suppose this was a rather successful event, after all” she commented. Lucy grinned and nodded.

               “Everyone loved it! And you did incredible!” the valiant enthused. She really was genuinely proud of her sister. Despite her panic earlier in the day, she presented herself with such confidence and poise that it was worth congratulations. Peter and Edmund nodded in agreement. They, too, were wildly proud of their sister, so happy to see the praise she had received for all of her hard work. Before Edmund could say anymore, however, Nefyn galloped over and tugged him onto the dancefloor despite his protests that he didn’t dance.

               “Why don’t you go out and find yourself a partner, as well?” Susan commented, nudging Peter on the arm. A sly smile touched her lips, one that made Peter mildly uncomfortable.

               “Me?” he asked, feigning stupidity. “I don’t think so, Su. I’m really not in the mood for—”

               “Oh, come on, Peter” Lucy chimed in. “I’m sure there’s plenty of young women out there dying to dance with the High King himself!”

               Peter shook his head nervously, turning to gaze out at the crowd twirling among one another like the choppy sea. His eyes, of course, immediately landed upon Ginevra. She swayed her hips to the music as she stood at the edge of the crowd, a glass of wine in hand. It was the perfect opportunity to approach her, but he wasn’t sure he had it in him. He didn’t want to stir the pot or involve himself in things he was nowhere near ready for yet. Worst case scenario she learned nothing of his argument with her and would yet again try to shove her breasts in his face and persuade him to love her. He still wasn’t ready to handle such a thing yet. He sat there hesitating for the next fifteen minutes, nervously watching her in his periphery, but then he caught her shift, turn, her eyes landing upon a most curious fixture: the statues of the Alexandre family. That was when he knew he needed to speak with her.

               He sidled up behind her and awkwardly cleared his throat, then said, “Enjoying yourself?”

               Ginevra gasped, snapping out of a trance, her cheeks burning red. “Oh! Oh, yes, of course darling. It’s an adorable little reception. Those fauns are especially cute!”

               “They have a wonderful ear for music” Peter commented. After a beat of silence, he then said, “I’m surprised you’re not dancing with everyone else.”

               “Well, you see, nobody asked me” Ginevra replied. If Peter hadn’t caught a slight undertone of anxiety in her own voice, he would’ve presumed she had, in fact, learned nothing. However, she said this so casually he couldn’t find an ounce of malicious intent in it. She was simply stating a fact. She turned her gaze back to the statues and added, “Besides, I’ve grown rather curious as to who these are.”

               Peter swallowed back the lump in his throat. “This is a monument to the Alexandre family, the last royal family before the White Witch invaded the country” he explained. He could feel his voice beginning to breaking in his throat, but fought to control his tone. “They were very important to my lost love, and so my siblings and I decided to erect this monument to them out of respect.”

               “You did all of this for her?” Ginevra asked. Peter nodded, unsure of whether she was jealous or impressed. “This love of yours must have been very special to you, you must have cared about her very much” she said quietly, swirling her wine around in her glass.

               The magnificent’s heart ached. “I do” he replied. He locked his eyes on the statues of her parents, her sisters. He prayed that she was here with him, beside him, in this garden celebrating with everyone else. After a few moments, Ginevra’s voice snapped him back to reality.

               “It’s funny” she said with a quiet giggle.

               “What is?” Peter asked.

               “All the things you have told me about this love of yours remind me so much of the stories I’ve heard of the lost Princess Eilonwy, the youngest daughter of the Alexandres” she said, then added, “Perhaps made even funnier by the fact that she must be the one daughter missing from the group here.”

               The minute her name spilled from Ginevra’s mouth, a sense of discomfort filled Peter’s body. He didn’t like the way she said it—Eilonwy’s name. He didn’t like the way it rolled off her lips with that accent of hers. And he definitely did not like the implication that she was lost regardless of how true it was. “What do you know about her?” he asked, curiosity taking precedence.

               “Well, legend has it that she survived the massacre that fateful night because rumors swirled that the body was never recovered. I don’t know much else about her, however, except that she was the black sheep of the family. As far as I can tell, far and wide the other nobles would joke about her behind her back for being so brash and impolite, saying they were grateful she was merely a spare rather than heir to the throne. After all, a princess has no place on battlefields. Shooting arrows and swinging swords—it’s terrible! So barbaric and disgusting, I could never…” Ginevra explained, scrunching up her face as she spoke about Eilonwy. Peter’s heart ached: here she was vilifying everything that Peter loved most about his lover. He found nothing barbaric or disgusting about it—had it not been for her expertise, he may never have felt fully prepared for the Battle of Beruna.

               “You seem to know more than you think you do” Peter replied. “Where did you learn all of this, anyway?”

               “My tutor taught me” she replied with a dismissive wave of her hand. “We’re kind of required to know the history of these lands, you know. After all, Narnia is a rather large and influential land, darling! We ought to have some understanding of its backstory.”

               “What else do you know about the Alexandre family?” he asked. He was genuinely curious. To tell the truth, he hadn’t learned much about Narnia’s history beyond its creation and its downfall when Jadis usurped the throne. Everything else was rather blurry and rushed.

               “You act like you don’t know the history of your own country!” Ginevra exclaimed. “What a terrible king you are” she added in jest, slapping him lightly on the shoulder. He could tell she was easing her way into flirtation but he decided not to stop her. So far, it wasn’t worth making a fuss about. He would wait until things escalated, if they did at all, and then bring up the inappropriateness of the action.

               “How do you know I don’t know? Maybe I’m just testing your knowledge” he replied.

               “Well, darling, I’m assuming if you did know then you’d be aware of our nations’ longstanding conflict” Ginevra replied. When Peter seemed uneducated on the matter, Ginevra took it upon herself to explain in great depth. “King Lorr, the last reigning king, had a younger brother named Solomon. The two of them didn’t get along very well, and Lorr banished Solomon under false pretenses. They disagreed on how they believed the country ought to be ruled. Solomon had wonderful ideas for bettering Narnia, but Lorr wanted nothing to do with them. I suppose he thought they were rather immoral or something, though I can’t possibly see why. Anyway, Lorr banished his own brother to the Isle of Sparrow, which at that time was kept as Narnia’s federal prison, but the ship veered off course and instead landed on an otherwise uninhabited island full of savages. Nothing but violent beasts with no sense of morality or modesty. This would’ve been a rather terrible fate had Solomon not been a wildly clever man and a bit of an opportunist, at that. He saw this as a chance to create his own nation based on his own ideals and values. He claimed the island for himself, naming himself duke as he felt as if that was a far more respectable title than king. After all, all the kings he had known up until this point were rather cruel to him, his father included—he thought Lorr was the far better son, and treated him as such because he was the heir. Solomon reformed the island by putting the natives to work and built a mansion atop a hill for himself, then invaded the Isle of Sparrow to release all of the prisoners who were wrongly accused to bring to his own nation. Among them was a woman named Catherine who was imprisoned for murder though there was never any proof of her crimes. Solomon married Catherine and together they ruled their country and brought numerous children into the world who carried on their legacy and continued to build upon Solomon’s empire, which thrived considerably when Narnia went under. Many of the humans in your land never believed Solomon would amount to anything, but when Jadis usurped the throne, they all fled to Brenn in hopes of seeking forgiveness and finding safety. Solomon was never a cruel man like his brother and father, so of course he accepted them with open arms. And thus was the beginning of what we know today as my lovely little island of Brenn!”

               Peter listened intently as Ginevra relayed this history to him, trying to make sense of it all. From what he had heard of King Lorr until now, he had never gotten any impression whatsoever that he was an inherently bad man. Eilonwy had undoubtedly been upset with him for not letting her join him in battle, but they both understood now it was simply a matter of keeping her safe. This, however, was far more sinister than anything he had heard of the man and Peter began to doubt its truth. How did he know Ginevra was not lying? How did he know she was not offering a biased account of the history? But then again, the more he thought about it the more he realized perhaps Eilonwy’s account was biased, as well. After all, Lorr was her father. She loved him dearly. He couldn’t imagine her saying anything bad about the man, especially in death. Ginevra, on the other hand, had no real personal connection with him and therefore she had no predisposed notions on him other than what she had heard in history lectures.

               “As you can certainly believe” Ginevra went on, “I don’t very much care for King Lorr. I don’t believe he was a very brilliant ruler. He may have never caused Narnia any huge problems, but as a man I don’t hold much respect for him. If you ask me, I think he could’ve stood to be a little more open-minded to my great-great-grandfather’s ideas. He had wonderful ideas, but Lorr wouldn’t hear a word of it. He was far too rash and vicious. He lacked compassion and surely acted on impulse. Who banishes their own brother like that? Could you ever imagine doing such a thing?”

               And truthfully, Peter couldn’t. No matter what transgressions Edmund may commit, he could never imagine banishing him for them. He cared about his brother far too much. His brief stint with the White Witch was proof enough of that. “I’m sorry to hear of all this” Peter finally spoke. “I had no idea our two nations had been at wit’s end with one another over something so trivial and petty.”

               “It’s not your fault, darling. You had no clue” Ginevra replied, resting a hand on his upper arm. “As terrible as it all is, you know, I’m really rather grateful for what Lorr had done. If not for exiling his brother, Solomon never would’ve founded Brenn and made it what it is today: a truly prosperous nation that values trade and a time-tested caste system where everyone belongs someplace. Everyone has a purpose. It’s a rich, beautiful land that truly showcases that anyone can rise to greatness through adversity! Hence our national motto: grandez à travers le sol atteindre le soleil.”

               “What does that mean?” Peter asked.

               “Directly translated, it means ‘grow through the ground to reach the sun’, but it’s more of a metaphor for our resilience” Ginevra explained with a light giggle. Peter nodded, turning the phrase over in his mind. Truly, it was a beautiful statement. He had no idea how much adversity her nation had faced due to his own, but with that knowledge he had a greater amount of respect for Brenn than ever before. He always did appreciate an underdog.

               “I like that” Peter replied. Then, after a few moments, he added, “I am genuinely sorry for what’s happened in the past between our nations, though. If I were king then, I would’ve never allowed such a travesty.”

               A soft smile graced Ginevra’s pink, glossy lips. “That’s quite alright, darling. Like I said, things worked out alright in the end. I know many people in Brenn still hold much contempt toward Narnia, but I hope someday our two countries can mend those bonds that had been broken so many years ago. It’s time we sought compassion and forgiveness in this world.”

               Peter nodded, a small smile beginning to spread across his own lips. He gazed back up at the statues of the old monarchs with a new perspective. King Lorr looked different to him now. For so long he had considered the man to be infallible and their death untimely, but Ginevra added a whole new layer to his understanding of these people. Perhaps they weren’t as perfect as he had always believed them to be. Perhaps they really weren’t worthy of so much praise. His stomach churned at the thought of having made a mistake in honoring them in this way. He wanted to be a good king, and if King Lorr was not a prime example then what did that say about him, erecting statues of him and his family? He thought about the guests drinking and dancing not too far off and wondered if they had noticed the statues, too. Did they all think Lorr was as terrible as Ginevra made him out to be, or was she just exaggerating? And if their thoughts did align with hers, then what message did that send to them about he and his siblings? His mind swirled with thought after thought, growing dizzy with contemplation. There was only one thing he knew for certain right now. Turning back to Ginevra, he nodded and replied, “One hundred years is long enough. I think its time we gave each other another chance to forgive and fix the past.”

               Ginevra smiled up at him, his hair a golden halo in the setting sunlight, and it was then that she knew as well as he did that this was the dawn of a new era, one in which their two nations would amend the transgressions of the past and forge a path together.

[andonewillbringhisfall]

I Wanted It to be Real

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

‘You have to sit with us at meals. I’m not talking to Dev and Niall.’

‘I wouldn’t ask you to.’

‘You can’t flirt with Agatha.’

Baz sits down on his bed, staring me down. ‘Neither can you.’

I turn so we’re face-to-face and cross my legs. ‘And you have to be nice to my friends.’

‘If I’m sitting with you and being civil to you, then you have to at least try not to embarrass me with your table manners.’

‘Then you have to eat,’ I say. I don’t know where that one came from. ‘And you have to pull out my chair, since you’re such a gentleman.’

‘Fine,’ says Baz. ‘You have to open doors for me.’

‘You have to call me darling,’ I say, snickering.

Baz grimaces. ‘There’s a line, Snow.’

I lean forward. ‘You can’t call me Snow.’

He sighs. ‘I can still call you Snow in our room. Also, you can’t accuse me of plotting, trying to kill you, or being undead.’

I bite my lip. I guess I shouldn’t tell him that I heard him say it himself. I probably shouldn’t tell anyone else, either.

‘But you’re all three,’ I quip.

‘I’m not plotting to kill you, Snow,’ he says. ‘Then I’d have to pretend to cry over your dead body and I just don’t think I could put on a convincing performance.’

I open my mouth to say something – ungrateful git, I’m the one doing this for him – but bite back my response.

‘Truce,’ I say instead, holding my hand out over the space between our beds. ‘No plotting and no politics until this is over.’

Baz purses his lips. ‘You can’t talk to the Mage,’ he says.

‘I can’t just not talk to the Mage,’ I say, dropping my hand. ‘He’s my mentor. He’s the leader of the school.’

‘Fine,’ says Baz. ‘No talking to the Mage about politics or the Old Families.’

‘What if he talks to me about politics or the Old Families?’

‘Then you change the topic, or make some excuse to leave.’

I open my mouth to protest, and then sigh. ‘Fine.’ The Mage is probably too busy to talk to me anyway, and if he does, it’ll be about the Humdrum. ‘Same goes for you, then.’

‘Deal,’ says Baz, and holds out his hand. We shake on it, and Baz stands up to leave.

‘Wait,’ I say. ‘What do we say when people ask us how we got together? You know they will.’

‘We tell them all those years of antagonism were just our feeble attempt at hiding the fact that we’re desperately attracted to each other,’ Baz says, ‘obviously.’

‘Oh.’

‘Also,’ he adds, just before he leaves. ‘Everyone knows you’ve always been obsessed with me.’

The door slams shut behind him.

‘Fuck you,’ I say to the empty room, glad he can’t see me blush.

 *

 The first morning of our fake relationship, we walk down to breakfast holding hands.

‘Take my hand,’ Baz commands as soon as we step out of our room.

‘Now?’

‘Yes.’

‘Oh – okay.’ I hold out my right hand, and he takes it with his left. His hands are cold – I guess it’s what I expected, since he’s a vampire and all – but it shocks me at first. He brushes his thumb over the back of my hand once, so softly it was probably an accident, and I hold my breath.

It’s weird, holding hands with Baz, walking into the dining hall side by side. Everything feels wrong, out of place. But I’m not sure I dislike it.

Heads turn when we walk in together. Penny and Agatha look shocked for a second and then turn to each other, whispering furiously. Dev and Niall are at Baz’s usual table, with matching slack-jawed expressions. I snicker.

‘Something funny?’ Baz says.

‘Everyone’s staring,’ I whisper back, and he gives me a tiny smile and squeezes my hand, shifting closer to me.

Right. Fake boyfriends. I can do this, even though Baz smiling at me with his eyes all soft and crinkled at the corners is the most confusing picture I’ve ever seen. I gulp.

‘Good morning,’ says Penny when we reach the table.

Baz lets go of my hand and pulls out the chair, gesturing for me to sit.

‘Thanks,’ I mumble, feeling myself turn red. We both sit down.

‘Good morning, ladies,’ Baz says to the girls. ‘Did you have a good night’s sleep? Not up too late studying, I hope?’ He looks at Penny when he says the last bit.

‘Nope. Didn’t need to be,’ she says, then waves her arm at him. ‘But that’s not important. You two have a lot of explaining to do.’

‘Yes, well, Simon and I are together,’ he says casually.

I lean over. ‘We’re not lying to Penny and Agatha,’ I hiss.

Baz rolls his eyes. ‘Whatever you say, darling.’

I fight the urge to look away. ‘Fine, can you pass the butter, sweetheart?’

Is he blushing? Can Baz even blush? His cheeks might be a bit pink, but then I think I might be imagining it.

‘Sure, babe,’ he says, no hint of irony in his tone, and passes me the butter.

‘Thanks,’ I mumble. Damn it. I think that means I lost.

I look up and realise Agatha’s almost convulsing in silent laughter, her shoulders shaking and her head in her hands.

Baz leans over, placing one hand on my shoulder and talking in a low voice. ‘Don’t look so shy, darling.’

I feel his breath on my ear, and I shiver. Baz gives me a winning smirk and pulls back. It’s completely unfair that he can’t blush and my face is flaming like I’m about to go off.

‘Don’t call me that,’ I say finally.

Baz grins. ‘Changed your mind, have you?’

‘It’s just, it’s too weird,’ I say. ‘Just call me Simon. Please.’

‘Sure, Simon,’ he says, taking my hand again. ‘Whatever you want.’

 *

 As soon as we get back to our room, Baz drops my hand and takes three steps away from me. I pretend like I don’t notice or care, marching over to my desk to grab the books I need for the day.

‘New rule,’ I say. ‘No pet names.’

‘You were the one who suggested it.’

I growl. ‘I know. I wasn’t being serious.’

‘Fine by me,’ says Baz.

‘Also, next time someone says we look cute together, you have to at least pretend you think it’s a compliment.’

‘It took me by surprise, Snow,’ he says. ‘That’s all.’

It took me by surprise too, but I didn’t look as disgruntled as Baz did when the sixth-year girl said it to us, right after breakfast.

‘Well, you have to act like you actually like me,’ I insist.

Baz holds my gaze for a long moment, and then turns away. ‘I know,’ he says. ‘I don’t even know how to begin.’

 *

 We sit together in classes, sometimes holding hands under the desk, sometimes leaning over to check our answers with each other. That is, me leaning over so Baz can help me figure out what the hell I’m supposed to be doing. And he lets me. He’s endlessly patient with me, explaining things over and over in this low, steady voice I don’t recognise at all. He doesn’t mock me when I botch up a spell or an answer, telling me instead to try again.

‘It’s okay,’ he says. ‘You’ll get it. You just need a little more time than the rest of us.’

I’m fully aware that he’s still calling me slow. But he’s doing it nicely, somehow, and even though I know the niceness is only an act, it doesn’t hurt when he says it like that.

By the end of the first day, the entire year knows about us. People keep coming up to congratulate us and tell us how cute we are together.

‘I always thought you two hated each other,’ says Rhys.

‘We’re both very good at pretending,’ says Baz. I’ve never seen him speak to Rhys before, but I guess dating me suddenly makes him approachable. ‘Probably too much for our own good,’ he adds, slipping an arm around my waist. I lean into him without even thinking about it.

Rhys laughs. ‘I’m happy for you,’ he says, and then wheels down the hallway in front of us. There are still a few other stragglers around, so Baz keeps his arm around me as we follow him out to the courtyard.

‘I like this better than fighting,’ he says.

I sigh. ‘Me too,’ I say, looking up at him so our noses are just inches apart. And I mean it; I like when he’s gentle with me, and I like not having to watch my back all the time, knowing he’s right next to me.

 *

 By the end of the week, the entire school knows. According to Baz, this means that word has definitely gotten back to his family. I want to ask if he’s spoken to them, if they gave him a hard time about it, but he won’t talk to me about it when we’re outside the room and he’ll barely talk to me at all when we’re inside. Except to update me on how far he thinks the rumours have spread. And to tell me what is and isn’t acceptable. (Pet names are off limits. Hand-holding and arm-touching is fine, but I can’t touch his hair. I can ask him to bring me more scones, but I can’t try to make him eat. Gentle teasing is the only form of flirting allowed. Anyone who asks too many questions gets the death-stare until they leave us alone.)

It’s been… it’s actually been great. Baz talks to Penny and even Agatha a lot during meals, so nobody minds if I’m quiet. He debates magickal law with Penny, and talks about mutual acquaintances with Agatha. She even tells him about her Normal friends and the things she likes better about her Normal life, and he listens.

One time when the four of us are studying in the library and the girls get distracted looking through one of the books, I lean into Baz, so close my chin is almost resting on his shoulder.

‘Is this the real you when you’re not actively trying to be a git?’ I ask, smiling like I’m teasing him, even though I’m completely serious. ‘Or is this you trying to be nice when you’re actually a git?’

Baz rolls his eyes. ‘Fuck off, Snow,’ he says.

‘Simon,’ I say immediately.

He sighs. ‘Fuck off, Simon.’ He tugs lightly on one of my curls, pulling it behind my ear. I want to protest – he’s allowed to touch my hair, but I’m not allowed to touch his? – but I can’t bring myself to do it. (The truth is, I don’t mind.)

I notice that I didn’t get an answer, but it’s time for us all to pack up and go down to dinner, so I don’t push it.

 *

 While Penny’s gone to talk to her roommate (probably complaining about the pixie dust again), Niall slips into her empty seat, his gaze flicking from Baz to me. I grab Baz’s hand instinctively.

Niall gives us a lazy smirk. ‘This is fake. Right?’

I pull my hand out of Baz’s grasp. ‘You haven’t told them?’

I guess it explains why we never talk to his friends, even though they always used to sit together at meals and in classes. Not that it matters; Niall’s figured it out anyway. I don’t really know what we’re doing wrong. Niall’s smirk is confident, like he’s absolutely sure, like he knows it’s impossible. Why is it so impossible?

‘No,’ Baz says, and takes my hand again. I gape at him. ‘Simon’s my boyfriend.’ And he leans over and kisses me on the cheek.

‘Are you fucking with me?’ Niall says. ‘Are you serious?’

‘Of course I’m serious,’ Baz says, tightening his grip on my hand. ‘He’s… I don’t care if you have a problem with it. Or the Families. I choose him over everything.’

Oh. How does he do that? How does he always know the perfect thing to say?

I shift closer to him, touching my forehead to his shoulder, one arm around his waist.

‘Baz,’ I mumble. I feel the weight of his palm on my back.

‘Oh, Crowley,’ Niall’s voice says, and then there’s a screeching of chair legs on the floor, and he’s gone.

I lift my head. ‘You’re a sap,’ I say. I don’t want to let go of him just yet.

‘Shut up.’

‘The great Basilton Pitch, hopeless romantic,’ I say. ‘Who would’ve thought?’

‘Shut up or I’ll dump your sorry arse,’ Baz says, shoving me off him.

I laugh. ‘I don’t believe you.’

Baz doesn’t answer, and I follow his gaze to where Niall is walking back to their usual table. He says something to Dev, and they both look over at us.

At the same time, Baz and I reach for each other’s hands.

 *

 I’m fighting a smile as we climb the stairs of Mummers House, hands still tightly clasped together.

I like this. I like us being on the same side, for once, and Baz telling Niall off for me. I should probably tell Baz. I want him to know that I don’t like fighting, that when this is over I think we should keep the truce.

The door closes behind us and I’m about to say it, but then Baz drops my hand and steps away, his expression stony.

‘I don’t trust them,’ he says. ‘Dev is my cousin, Niall tells Dev everything, and they both belong to the Old Families.’

‘I – oh.’

‘We don’t tell them,’ he says. ‘Alright? Not them, not anyone else except for Bunce and Wellbelove.’

‘Fine. Of course,’ I say.

‘Good.’

He disappears into the bathroom.

I stand there for a long minute, staring after him, before I turn around and head back down the stairs. I don’t want to be in the room with him, refusing to look at me or talk to me. I can’t stand it, not after what just happened in the dining hall. I run back down to see if I can catch Penny before she leaves for the Cloisters. I find her outside on the footpath.

‘Simon,’ she says, not looking surprised to see me. ‘What happened back there?’

We change direction and walk out towards the Great Lawn, huddling in our jumpers against the chill. I explain what happened with Niall, and tell her word-for-word what Baz said about us.

‘Crowley,’ she says. ‘I choose you over everything. He said that?’

‘Yeah.’ I stick my hands in my pockets and duck my head.

‘That’s… kind of beautiful.’

‘Yeah,’ I say again.

‘And he kissed your cheek.’

‘He did,’ I agree.

Penny raises an eyebrow. ‘I find that… surprising. Don’t you have rules, or something? I’ve never seen you do more than hold hands.’

‘We do,’ I say. ‘They’re mostly Baz’s rules. We didn’t say anything about… kissing.’ I’m blushing again, I just know it. ‘We hold hands whenever we’re outside the room, but then he still acts like he hates me when no-one can see us.’

‘Do you think he hates you?’

I bite my lip. ‘I - Of course,’ I say quickly. ‘We’re enemies. We’re still going to have to fight each other.’

Penny walks on silently, nodding, and I know she noticed that I hesitated.

‘As for the rules…’ I say. ‘I don’t know. I’ll probably have to kiss him eventually, right? Niall already thinks we’re faking it. People will realise. Niall will realise if we don’t.’

‘Mm,’ Penny says.

‘It’ll be weird,’ I say. ‘If we don’t kiss. I don’t even know if… it’s definitely not in the rules. But he kissed my cheek, and that wasn’t in the rules, and we’re dating. So. I’m gonna have to kiss him at some point, right?’

I look at her for confirmation.

‘Simon,’ Penny says. ‘Do you want to kiss him?’

I gulp. ‘Yeah,’ I say. (Because it’s the truth.)

‘Then I think you should go for it.’

[shazyloren]

The Room: Chapter 5 - Announcing the Catch

Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/12710496/chapters/29062374

--------

Daenerys felt exhausted by the time she'd made it to the great hall after she'd walked through the train and made sure everyone was off. She hadn't felt this tired in weeks; her father's betrayal was really starting to affect her. The sleepless nights, the physical abuse from Viserys, the longing to see her own mother well; it all culminated in Daenerys' body feeling weaker than she'd ever been. And the physical exercise of walking the entire train and then making her way up to the castle was another added layer.

But she was in the Great Hall now; and that meant once the sorting Ceremony and the announcements were made, she could eat and recoup her strength. She always sat with a couple of Slytherin girls at their House table. They were the only civil members of the House she could stomach. Sisters Tyene and Nymeria, while cruel to others, yet they had always shown pity to Daenerys. Not that she needed their pity.

Sitting down in her seat, her eyes drifted over to the Gryffindor table where Jon was high-fiving several people in and around him; flashing his badge off. Daenerys found her eyes rolling and her mouth tutting at his bragging. He was never one to act this way; he'd always been humble in his own wizarding ability. Well towards everyone else but not towards her. She knew he was never one to boast, even in his position at the top of Defence as he had been since year one. So watching hm flash off his badge was baffling to her.

Jon was a very skilled wizard; particularly in combat. She'd always struggled to keep toe-to-toe with him in their many fights in the hallways and grounds of school. He would be able to whip his wand around so effortlessly and all of his spells worked out for him. Sometimes Daenerys' own spells wouldn't always come off in their duels, she had to concentrate so much harder than he did for success. That or she'd play dirty to catch him off guard. But he still almost always anticipated this.

He wasn't captain of the duelling club for nothing.

Shame he was such an annoying prick to her; he judged her, started on her for her anger and her fears. He didn't know her, he doesn't know the hell she's been through the past four years, since that fateful Christmas. He knew nothing of her life and he judged her all the same. She could feel it in his body language, see it in her eyes. He hated her, and he had no grounds to even do such a thing. If he knew, he'd be begging for forgiveness of his actions.

She felt her anger boil as her eyes glared at the back of is head, hers fists on the table edge, grabbing onto them as if she was going to break it.

Stupid twit.

"Daenerys, we've just got back" Tyene's voice rang through her. Daenery's eyes instantly felt kinder as she turned to face the speaker. Her eyes were pleading for her to calm down. Jon always made her react in such a manner, a heated violence she did not like stirred inside her. "Don't start a war with him already"

"Sorry, I... lost myself for a moment" Daenerys tried to listen to the sorting after this; trying to completely free her mind of Jon as she did. How did he provoke such a strong reaction in her? It was is audacity, that was it surely. The feeling that he thought he knew everything about her, that he thought she wanted to be this angry mess. "Head girl, gotta keep my temper in check"

"It's alright; we've all been there" Nymeria assured her. "We're with you, it can't have been easy this summer"

"No, it hasn't" Daenerys didn't want to think about it too much. The image of her father flinging a stunning spell at her mother on the path to their house is one she'll never forget. How could he have been so cruel? To leave her and the country after everything they've tried so hard to build here. He abandoned her; he is nothing to Daenerys anymore. He got to flee and he doesn't have to face the shame that she and her mother will now face from day to day, for the rest of their lives.

She watched the rest of the ceremony intently in an attempt to put all these thoughts away; but the truth is her brain worked over time these days and it showed no signs of slowing down. As her eyes glanced at Headmaster Tyrion sat in his large chair as Deputy Headmaster Varys Lys placed the sorting hat onto people's heads. Slytherin gained twenty one new students, some of who looked so terrified at the prospect of being in this house. The halls 'oohs' rang out as William Potter, War hero Harry Potter's Great-great grandson was sorted into Gryffindor.

Soon, all seventy-ish students had been sorted and Lord Lannister had stepped up to the podium. It was time for one of his famous speeches; they were always so insightful into what his mind was thinking. Daenerys sometimes wished she'd taken notes; his wisdom was unparalleled since the days of Albus Dumbledore; who's portrait in the Headmaster's office was still the smartest thing in school.

"My most glorious welcomes to those of you who are new; and welcome back, to those of you who have returned to us" There was silence as everyone had finally turned to the front and listen. "Great going ons in the outside world; reasons to be cautious; reasons to be friendly to one another more so now, than you could ever imagine. Dark forces have risen in the east; families have gone missing, the world is coming undone. All the more reason; to promote the unity that Hogwarts has become a beacon of in these last hundred years or so"

There was mumbles all around. Daenerys had heard of these events in the papers; the Daily Prophet was reporting something right for once. As she glanced around her she saw more confused faces, some scared, some angry. No one wanted a third wizarding war, but thankfully, the aurors weren't sitting around ignoring it this time like they had done the Death Eaters.

Daenerys had heard all the stories of this before; great battles, dragon riding and the defeat of the greatest known dark wizard of all time, Voldemort. By all accounts, Harry Potter had been the age she was now when it happened. She felt like her life paled in comparison to this. What had she done at her age of note? Nothing, she was good at potions. That was all. She guessed Head Girl was an okay achievement.

"And so to promote such unity; it is my pleasure to announce our Head Boy and Girl this year" He said as a segue. Daenerys felt her eyes widen and her heart flush. "Both students are keen in mind, strong-willed, fiery and are passionate about magic. It is known throughout this school that they've been less than... civil towards each other, but if they can agree to rule this school together so to speak, than we can inform others and show others; that unity is the best course of actions"

Daenerys felt her skin flush. She was embarrassed; she hated being embarrassed. She let her eyes glance over to Jon who was too looking a little more sheepish than he did earlier. Why did Professor Lannister have to make a huge song and dance about it? It was just an appointment that happened every year.

"Our Head boy is Jon Snow of Gryffindor" There was a loud, rapturous applause from the Gryffindor table. "Our Head girl is Daenery Targaryen of Slytherin"

There was silence at first. Small mutterings followed.Was she suppose to stand up, stay seated. She saw Jon had stood up and so fumbling slightly; she stood up too. She looked down at the table almost. The clapping slowly started and eventually Slytherin house were clapping too. It didn't surprise her that lots of people didn't like this appointment, when had she ever earned it with the Student body?

In the past she'd been harsh to those who probably did not deserve it. If someone accidently bumped into her, she'd flinch and hex them into an oblivion. All better than ever feeling unwanted hands on herself again. But now; looking out at the sea of people with worried faces, besides Missandei who was smiling brightly and clapping in support, she felt the guilt of doing the stuff she'd done to other house members.

Daenerys sat down sharpish; not wanted to look like a fool.

"Thank you to both of them for agreeing to work together this year. I look forward to it" He said in a quiet tone as the mutterings in the hall faded out. Well I'm not looking forward to it. "Now, housekeeping. For those wondering; the Duelling Club will be continuing this year, as Mr. Snow will be having Head boy duties, I'm appointing someone to give a helping hand out in executing the meetings. The Deputy of the Duelling Club, is Yara Greyjoy"

Daenerys wondered if Tyrion had secretly spoken to Jon about this; she didn't imagine he could be too happy to have someone else help out with the duelling club champion. She couldn't see his face, it was turned as he talked to his brother Robb. Headmaster Lannister spoke about some other issues; the great lake on the far side was currently out of bounds due to a Pixie infestation that had yet been sorted and the grounds near the back of the castle past the Greenhouses was out of bounds due to need-to-know reasons. Daenerys could see all the troublemakers eyes light up.

"Now, a word of warning" Everyone sat up straight. Daenerys wondered if this is the Quidditch announcement. "This year, something magical is happening at Hogwarts. An event the school hasn't seen in over one hundred years. This years Quidditch cup has been cancelled so it can take it's place" There was a loud intake of breath. Daenerys thought it was an overreaction. But Quidditch meant so much to people here that she couldn't help but chuckle at their reactions. Quidditch was people's livelihood, not Daenerys' though. "In it's place we will be hosting, The Triwizard Tournament"

Daenerys eyes widened as an intake of breath was united and deep across the hall.

What the hell are the school governors thinking?

The Triwizard Tournament was a magical contest held between the three largest wizarding schools of Europe: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Durmstrang Institute, and Beauxbatons Academy of Magic, each school being represented by one Champion. Selected Champions compete in three tasks designed to test magical ability, intelligence and courage. Champions competed for the honour and glory of winning the Tournament, for the Triwizard Cup, and usually, a lot of gold.

And now; it was being held once more.

Daenerys stood upright in her seat and shouted across the hall, the rage she'd felt for potter earlier was back but was flowing in her veins in a different manner. "Professor Lannister, you can't possibly be serious?" He nodded, as if he knew every single comment she was about to throw at him. But that did not stop her, she was going to throw them all at him. "The last time this school held the Triwizard Tournament a student died; you cannot possibly think that's a risk worth taking with these students!"

"Myself and the head of the other schools have met with the Minister of Magic and the necessary precautions have been put in place for this tournament to run smoothly. Durmstrang school will arrive on the twenty ninth of October and Beauxbatons on the thirtieth. It is try, the last time this tournament was indeed held a student unfortunately perished. Which is why no student under the age of seventeen will be able to compete"

Theon Greyjoy stood up then. "Can someone explain exactly what the Triwizard tournament is?"

Daenerys' brain worked faster than it ever had done. It was too risky, too dangerous. These Students could die, someone could be killed! "Hogwarts, Durmstrang and Beauxbatons, since the early thirteenth century have come together to host the tournament. A representative from each school would compete in three task which were deemed to test intelligence, courage and magical ability. The death rate is very high, it was why it was disbanded in the first place!"

Daenerys had read all about it; there were many books at her home she would read late into the night about Hogwarts and the great events in the wizarding world. She could not believe the Headmaster and the School Governors had been so stupid to resurrect this ancient tournament; some of the deaths described in these books were horrific and bloody. Not to mention it brings out the crazy in people; people have genuinely gone insane after competing in the tournament and have lived their days out in the St. Mungos.

"I can assure you Miss. Targaryen we've taken all the precautions. Just like your appointment as Head girl alongside Mr. Snow; I've decided to allow this tournament to go ahead and promote unity with other schools; to show how strength in numbers helps more than ever"

Daenerys couldn't believe what she was hearing. So he was using it as PR to help the school and wizarding worlds image? Lives were at stake! "So you're using the opportunity to make it about Public relations? You think death of students is a small price to pay for the unity of wizarding Europe against an enemy we do not even know?"

"I can assure-" She hadn't finished. The room was silent.

"Cedric Diggory was murdered by Lord Voldemort, and before that in 1863, Jack Tollpen was swallowed whole by a dragon. Mesia Jones in 1643 was ripped apart by werewolves! This tournament is not safe to enter! And we should not be having it in this school!"

"That is enough!" The headmaster shouted louder than she'd ever heard before. "Unless you have a reasonable comment to add to this discussion, it's over" Headmaster Lannister snapped. "Now, as I was saying"

Daenerys couldn't believe it. Whoever entered that tournament, they may die. And she couldn't watch any student of this school (even Joffrey Baratheon, the Headmaster's unpleasant nephew) die at the hands of magical creatures or horrifying jinxes. It was at this she realised what she had to do. She must tell everyone else not to enter; that way, she'd be protecting them. She could tell the whole school not to enter the tournament and then... what would she do beyond that?

She would do it.

She would make that sacrifice for them.

What had she got to live for anyway? Perhaps she could salvage some of her family's reputation by making this choice. As the reality of what she knew she must do set in; she sunk into her chair and felt the rage burn inside her. And as she looked over at the Headmaster who was staring her down she thought to herself, my death will be on you.

[wellesleyunderground]

Wellesley in Politics: Interview with Farahnaz Ispahani ‘85  (@fispahani)

Farahnaz Ispahani ‘85 has been a leading voice for women and religious minorities in Pakistan for over two decades, working as a journalist, member of Pakistan’s National Assembly, and most recently as a United States-based scholar. An advocate of Pakistan’s return to democracy during the military regime of Pervez Musharraf, she served as a spokesperson and international media coordinator for the Pakistan People’s Party, working alongside the late Benazir Bhutto. During her tenure in parliament (2008-2012), she was a member of the Foreign Affairs and Human Rights committees and the Women’s Parliamentary Caucus. In 2013 and 2014 she was a public policy scholar at the Woodrow Wilson International Center for Scholars, where she completed “Purifying the Land of the Pure: A History of Pakistan's Religious Minorities” (2016), a book on the persecution of religious minorities in Pakistan. In 2012 she was listed among Foreign Policy magazine’s Top 100 Global Thinkers, as well as Newsweek Pakistan’s Top 100 Women Who Matter.

What led you to Wellesley?

I arrived at Wellesley through family connections to the college. My grandfather, M.A.H Ispahani had spoken at Wellesley when he was Pakistan’s first Ambassador to the United States. My eldest sister attended Wellesley in the late 70s. I had never been to the United States before and I wanted to go to school in a warmer part of the country but I got in and the choice was made for me!

However, once I got to Wellesley I appreciated its unique and very special education and community and made it mine. Wellesley changed my life.

How did your childhood and family influence your work as an adult? Â Who was your biggest role model growing up?

Growing up in Pakistan in the 1970s I attended a convent school run by a teaching order of nuns from Ireland. My class was made up of girls from every religious and ethnic community of my city Karachi. We never knew who was a Christian or Shia or Sunni Muslim or a Hindu or a Parsi. The nuns ensured an atmosphere of inclusion. I started understanding that I belonged to a religious minority when my mother, siblings and I used to attend majlises or religious gatherings in the month of mourning which is called Muharram. We saw a city and country where we could commemorate this month in peace and our Sunni neighbors would acknowledge the solemnity and respect us to a point where our places of worship are surrounded by tanks and armed police or army men and we are frisked for metal objects and guns when we enter in case we are terrorist wanting to blow us up.

My career in journalism, politics and as a scholar was deeply influenced by what we as a family witnessed and experienced.

My greatest role model was my Iranian grandmother. She was an amazing woman who made Pakistan her home and founded and ran the first day care center in Karachi that enabled middle class and poor women to work and have their children in a safe environment where they were taught and fed. She also founded and ran an orphanage for unwanted children. Some were left outside in the dead of the night in a basket. In a society that rejects illegitimate children Kashana e Atfal and Naunehal took in and educated thousands of girls and still does. Some of the young women who were adopted from Kashana attended Oxford, Cambridge and the Sorbonne.

Khanumjoon, as we called her lovingly, spoke 5 languages including Farsi, Urdu, French, German and Turkish. She also attended London University and got a social science degree during WW11.

Her affection, love, guidance and time were a constant for us throughout her life.

With Pakistan being Sunni run and about 77 percent Sunni, does that lead to distrust towards them from religious minorities? Based on the number of claims of blasphemy and harsh penalties for it, is it hard to people of different religions (and within Muslims for Shi’ites and Ahmadis) to trust each other?

The founder of Pakistan, M.A. Jinnah was a Shia Muslim and he was supported in the creation of Pakistan by the head of the Ahmadi Muslim community. Unfortunately, Mr. Jinnah died a year after the birth of Pakistan. The downward descent of what I call ‘communal majoritarianism’ kicked in immediately and anti-Shia and anti-Ahmadi movements gained strength. Today, we see sectarian terrorist groups that kill those of Muslim minority and Christian and Hindu minority faiths and blow up their places of worship. The leaders of these groups are known to the authorities but remain free to address open public rallies and travel. The Blasphemy Law in Pakistan is considered the toughest in the world and carries a death penalty if convicted. Once this law was passed it gave the general public of Pakistan a sort of license to judge and convict anyone they feel has blasphemed.

You said in a paper in 2013 for the Hudson Institute that Ahmadis make up only 0.22 percent of the population of Pakistan. How much of a change is that since the Partition? I saw an article recently in Dawn that another Ahmadi Muslim was killed. Do you think they’ll ever be safe in Pakistan?

Members of Ahmadi sect forbidden to call themselves Muslim. Ahmadis are some of the most common defendants in criminal charges of blasphemy, which in Pakistan can carry the death penalty. By law they cannot call their place of worship mosques or distribute religious literature, recite the Koran or use traditional Islamic greetings, measures that they say criminalize their daily lives.

The legal restrictions began in 1974, when the then-Prime Minister Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto passed a constitutional amendment declaring Ahmadis non-Muslim. A decade later military dictator General Zia ul Haq barred Ahmadis from identifying themselves as Muslim.

The exact percentage is hard to calculate as though many Ahmadis have fled the country and gained asylum in the US, Canada, UK and Australia the constant increase of the Pakistani population which is not easily attainable as many Ahmadis have to hide their faith to be able to work and ensure the safety of their families.

I do not think they will be safe in Pakistan in my lifetime. In the month of November alone, nuclear armed Pakistan’s capital city, Islamabad has been taken hostage by thousands of religious extremists demanding further restrictions on the county’s Ahmadi Muslims & praising convicted criminals like Mumtaz Qadri, the murderer of our former governor, Punjab province, Salmaan Taseer.

Also, The National Assembly (Parliament) has passed the new Elections (Amendment) Bill 2017 challenging the voter registration of anyone accused of being an Ahmadi.

The bill relates to the fresh delimitation of constituencies keeping in view the provisional results of the recently conducted census with respect to the upcoming general elections in 2018.

Speaking on the new law ‘Elections Amendment Bill 2017′ Senate Deputy Chairman Abdul Ghafoor Haideri, who belongs to the Islamist Jamiat Ulema-e-Islam-F, said that the Ahmadis’ status is the same as it was back in the 1973 Constitution. Reinforcing the Ahmadis vulnerable position and demonstrating that the parliament and government consider them non-Muslims.

Can Pakistan ever be a place where all feel safe and welcome regardless of religion?

In my lifetime only former military dictator General Pervez Musharraf had the power during his ten year rule to change the laws and ensure prosecution of those who attacked minority groups. And, to disband sectarian terrorist organizations. But he did not. I am not hopeful in the rational sense but one has to keep hope alive to ensure change one day.

Can social media be freely used or is it regulated as part of the blasphemy laws?

It is regulated to some extent. People have been arrested for blasphemy because of blasphemy allegations of online comments and killed as university student Mashal Khan was. But, like others, his family has not received justice. Journalists and bloggers speaking freely on social media have disappeared, been tortured and fled the country.

Especially after writing Purifying the Land of the Pure can you safely return to Pakistan? If not what would have to change for that to be possible?

I have gone back on a handful of occasions - but in a very low key manner and with a full understanding of the risks. Anyone who has written and spoken as much about the issues I do can never be safe in Pakistan. Vigilante justice continues unimpeded.

Do you think it’s possible to have a country based on a religion that’s welcoming to those who don’t follow that religion?

No. There has to be a separation of church and state and all citizens must be considered equal under the constitution. Religion or ethnicity cannot be a part of any modern and civilized nation.

Your work has largely focused on bringing Pakistan back to democracy. How do you hold onto hope for a country with such a history of violence?

Hope does spring eternal. However, as Pakistan is a relatively young country one can only work for a better tomorrow. But, I know how ugly the lives of those of minority community faiths are. That spurs me on. The country belongs to every single Pakistani and they deserve that.

I can’t even imagine getting to work with Benazir Bhutto as you did both when she was in exile and when she returned to Pakistan in September 2007. What is your favorite story about her?

Benazir Bhutto, was human and had faults but what a great leader she was. I still miss her every day. She had political intelligence, knowledge of her country and the world and a deep compassion and empathy for women, the disadvantaged and the persecuted. She was hated by the religious right wing forces.

My favorite story about Bibi as any of us referred to her was the day after her arrival. Estimates say that 1 million supporters gathered to welcome her arrival. As her caravan slowly inched through Karachi terrorists set off two bombs to kill her. Many died but she managed to survive.

The following day Benazir Bhutto held a press conference in her small garden at her Karachi home. It was packed with PPP party officials and reporters. Benazir arrived in a old pair of glasses from her bedside drawer as the ones she had on were shattered in the blast. The audio didn't work. Bibi picked up a hand mike and without missing a stride spoke so clearly and with an unshaken sense of mission.

She answered every question although she was mourning those who had lost their lives and been up all night talking to her family and party people.

That was Benazir. Brilliant and unbowed. And, kind..Finding a bond with every woman she met. Rich or poor, educated or not. Privately her humor, and love of chocolate and ice cream, and escaping to a movie or a having a cozy chat for a brief respite from her lifetime of heavy responsibility. I always thought of her as the perfect Wellesley woman though she went to Radcliffe!

Farahnaz’s blog is https://farahnazispahani.com/ and her writings can also be found in various news outlets.

Photo by Elliott O’Donovan Photography

[transcendencenyu]

terrie//complementary

“You’re very handsome.” We stood outside the restaurant, watching some of the others file in, some mingling outside before entering, because out here was safe. In there, we could already tell: it was a war zone. We were dressed for battle, only the finest gear to keep us protected in there, weapons drawn and ready to defend ourselves no matter what happened. My battle armor was simple, skin tight, and fit perfectly to keep in time with my body should I need to run or dodge out of the way of an attack: a short black dress, definitely one for the summer, the back mostly exposed, and the interior silken cloth covered by a harder exterior shell, a laced flowery design that pulled in the otherwise loose fabric toward my frame. Naturally, I detested dresses, but it was one that Paisley adored, one she made me buy because she “could tell” it made me look hot, although I knew she just loved the feel of it. I also rocked some sweet red converse, naturally, my boots ready to trudge through the muds of our soon-to-be bloodied arena. To anyone else, it seemed like a simple summer outfit, but Bucky and Stephen could tell it was something more, a shield against the dark forces that threatened our kingdom. I needed all the help I could get to go up against a godlike entity and the heroes around that were easily swayed by his power and charm. David, meet Goliath.

“I know,” Stephen replied shortly. “I don’t need you to tell me.”

It took a moment to pull my stare from the gates to hell, looking back to Stephen, my special weapon to ward off the most stubborn kind of ignorant asshole, and here he was, reminding me why I never complimented him. “It’s kind of the thing people do, when they want to, you know, compliment someone? It wouldn’t kill you to try it sometime,” I replied. I’d learned the best way to deal with Stephen was giving him the same amount of attitude—so long as it checked out factually—and he’d be subdued temporarily. We definitely were opposites in many regards, but we always found a way to meet in the middle. My sarcastic assholeism did the job well.

“Right. I typically don’t bother with pleasantries. They get in the way.”

A huge sigh said, “I know,” and I looked back to the Colosseum, knowing that lingering too long was a sure sign of weakness. No, we had to go in, chests out, like we were the ones in control. It was a fight to the death, and I hadn’t lost yet.

We found our seats beside Bucky and Steve, Stephen beside Tony. Honestly, I hadn’t spoken to the narcissistic dick in a while, but if anyone could put up steel defenses against this intruder, it was Tony. Even Steve seemed a little guarded today, and Bucky was ready to throw down (although this was normal for him). Bruce beside Tony—yet another person I hadn’t spoken with properly in a while—was wary as ever, concealed by his timid behavior, when really he could lash out at any given moment should things go wrong. Quickly, as the night officially began, we could tell there was a civil war brewing among the two sides of the table.

Natasha and Clint sat beside Paisley, held hostage by her new man, and our giant friend who, really, would go along with anything. I only received one look from Clint, but it was enough to remind me he was forever on Paisley’s side, pitting me against him so that I’d be opposite of my best friend. Already, they were getting distracted in music selection, but my eyes narrowed and locked on my target from the moment he spoke his first word. Straight across from me, Peter and I both knew we were entering our very own Cold War. A standoff against two assholes for Paisley’s attention and approval, and the games had already begun. You could tell he was nervous, no doubt guilty of something, just by the way he addressed the crowd, completing a rather impressive feat by meeting us all at once--his foolish and fatal mistake. He had some allies, sure, but I wouldn’t bet his team over mine any day.

I couldn’t help but lean forward, intrigued by his mannerisms, his not-so-careful phrasing of it all, calling it, us, a trial. He must have thought us judges, his executioners even, but this was much more than a hearing. No, this was a test, a skill challenge to see how much he could endure before he’d finally break and decide for himself that Paisley wasn’t worth the trouble (like any worthless man would). We were all here to find that out, to see how fast the little one would squirm. To see how the mighty fall when they see true power. Tony was especially good at this, making small, almost silent comments to Bruce and Stephen and me, making it nearly impossible to keep from giggling, or at least smiling this sly, twisted grin in Peter’s direction. Had my hatred been misdirected, I would have been the equivalent to a high school mean girl, but since I felt the bitterness was well deserved, Tony actually made the night quite pleasant, and rather straining for Quill. I knew I’d have to speak to Tony later, privately, on the matter, maybe even with drinks. If he wasn’t still a major asshole.

Then came the questions. Steve started out small—god, did it sound like an interview of some kind: “Can you please tell us about a time when you acted as a leader to accomplish a task with your girlfriend?” The whole time I was imagining him imagining Paisley naked (which was unfortunately very easy to do since I had), my nails trying to dig into the very fabric that was keeping me safe while my senses told me to relax. Sure, maybe Peter hadn’t done anything wrong yet. The only way to know was to ask, right? Unless either of them knew how to lie (totally sure that wouldn’t be the case). I could see Peter, already tense, locking eyes with Steve. As if the bastard hadn’t done enough already, he attacked Steve with his previous relationship, one I’m sure Paisley told him in confidence. I was caught off guard, trying to consider how a twisted sicko could use his supposed girlfriend’s words against her good friend, and I spit out the first thing I could think of to keep him off Steve.

“I picked those out, the glasses.” His attention shifted, fighting between Steve and me, like he was sizing the two of us up, considering which one was the weaker link, which one could go down in less hits. He hadn’t decided yet.

Bucky was brave enough to ask the million dollar question--one that would have made me laugh for hours had it not been so serious--yet Paisley’s answer meant almost nothing to me. In a room full of her closest friends, trying to impress them? She’d lie. Peter too, unless he didn’t know any better. With sex temporarily out of the way, however, conversations began to break off, and I was left staring at Peter, emotionless but challenging. He held his ground, staring back, never shifting, but his eyes expressed his discomfort--a weakness to take advantage of. In sizing me up, he’d let his barrier down just long enough for me to find an opening.

“So. Pete,” my tongue clicked as I held him down, my eyes like hands around his neck, firm yet nonlethal for the time being.

“It’s Peter, actually.”

The corners of my mouth twitched upward just barely, and I leaned back into my chair for the first time since seeing him this up close, relaxed and comfortable with the dominance I had over him. “Right. Tell me, Pete, what do you like to do for fun?”

The question, obviously trapped, was phase one in a plan listed with many phases. Of course, I would start small, working my way up to the Earth shattering bombs only if needed, wanting to leave zero casualties in his selfish war. “Okay, yeah, I’m usually looking for the next dance battle, or enjoying the last of what the universe gave us of Bowie and his sick storytelling ability.”

“Lovely. Very practical.”

“Well, when you’re trying to save the world one flash mob at a time, it’s best to come prepared.”

“Your family must be so proud,” I said, monotone in every response, while he tried his best to give me enough sass to flood the area.

“Yeah. Do you ever smile? Your face change at all, or is it just stuck like that?”

“You want me to smile?” I narrowed my eyes and gave a smirk, a gentle one, then looked away, nearly scoffing. The man who made faces at me wanted me to smile. Adorable.

Peter cranes his head back a bit, perplexed. “Okay, I see why you don’t. Damn.”

My resting bitch face came back, and I continued to delve into his brittle soul. “I’m sure you’ve told your friends all about your girlfriend. Why haven’t we met them?” Anything personal was a good place to start, although the atmosphere of chattering and clinking didn’t set the tone for any of the real questions I wanted to get to. Of course, I wasn’t a dick, I wouldn’t try and make him cry, but I did want to see him angry.

Quickly, his attention is pulled away, and my emotionless stare burns into a fiery, dark rage. Honestly, I hated few people in this world, but god did he want to be one of them. I wanted to cut him with the sharpest of words, but I just had to find the right ones. Tony had been watching Peter and me mostly, intrigued but realizing I wasn’t getting anywhere--yet. He took it upon himself to cut me off and inquire about Peter’s major, explaining another disappointment that only Peter could accomplish. An astronomy major in Missouri? Yeah, right. The only thing more pointless than a worthless major was going to college without a major. At least Paisley realized that, shooting back at me with a similar contempt I had for Pete. Peter, meanwhile, laughed everything off, sending more fire through my veins, my very own flood of fuel which worsened the flames with each word he spoke. I felt the pressure welling up inside of me, threatening to burst. Paisley pretending he was so perfect and so wonderful killed me, and I turned my head finally, tearing my eyes from Peter to sigh and growl under my breath to Stephen, “Why did we even try to come?” For once, Stephen took initiative then, seeing my struggle and speaking up.

“What do you want, Paisley? A stamp of approval?” My man slowly reached his hand from underneath the table, not to grab mine, but to touch my thigh gently with the back of his hand, to be present while I was mentally wringing Peter’s neck. I’d almost killed him in my head, too, when he interrupted that sweet, sweet imaginary visage of his bloodied smolder weakening. I could tell in an instant, that after the staring, the prodding, and the waiting, Peter was getting tired of being on the defense. He knew he’d lose if he kept taking blow after blow, so he turned himself to me, and he began to make his attack. I guess you could say he’d decided on the weaker link.

Of course, I had come prepared to fight. Nothing he could say would throw me off, nothing that I hadn’t already prepared for, and I knew this, staring him down as he charged ahead. His words cut instantly through Paisley, then Bucky, then Steve, and slowly I began to realize one small gap in my plan: I couldn’t have possibly prepared for something I didn’t know existed.

He saw my barrier exposed now, my internal struggle to flee before he could get any closer, and he took the chance to light a fuse and run. “Yeah. When you and Steve dated, she was jealous. That was the plan, right? So, they’d get together?” He disappeared with Paisley, the others were speaking, but I no longer made out words. I glanced over slowly to Steve, head still in his hands, then at Bucky who couldn’t even look back. Suddenly, nothing else mattered. My heart was pounding--I could hear thick, heavy pulses of blood thrumming against my eardrums and causing my eyes to weaken, my vision darkening. I couldn’t even process the information, only movements, my body slowly rising, then shifting, moving like a dismembered body held together with tacks and paperclips, until I was outside without really understanding why. God, did Rio look beautiful at night.

I don’t know how long I was out. It couldn’t have been more than five minutes before someone finally came to check up on me, coming to rest at the same bench my broken body had slumped into. Even at night, the wind blew nothing but hot breaths of air into my face and hair, tugging at the corners of my dress with pubescent curiosity. I didn’t seem to notice or care.

“Everyone is wondering if you’ll be joining us again,” he said, his low voice melding with the wind to create a harmonious hum for me. “They thought it would be best to give you space.”

I looked over, trying to focus, my mind unwillingly blocking out sights and sounds around me as I fell somewhere deep within my mind palace. “And what do you think is best, Stephen?”

His eyes were moving around, observing the area despite being somewhere lost on his own beside me. “I’m sorry, about which problem?” Was there a hint of sarcasm there? I couldn’t tell.

“About.. About Peter. About.. this dinner. What should I do?” My eyes found him then, searching his face for an answer, his mind a chasm full of knowledge and insight that didn’t begin to cover the rather unimpressive crack in the pavement that fit mine.

“Well, for starters, I think you need to stop letting the past influence your decisions with this man. We clearly don’t know enough about him, and this isn’t exactly the best way to do it.” It was different with Stephen, something I never felt with Grant, the way his mere presence felt comforting, felt sheltered. He was rarely physical, but his near proximity was enough. It was exactly what I needed after the way Grant treated me, not having to worry about flinching or pulling away from contact, not offending Stephen for still having memories crawl back to the center of my world when I least expected them. His temper was just as bad when it got to that point, but he kept to himself, respecting my space and only letting me make moves (which he didn’t even want half the time). He was his absolute best when he was alone, just him and me, and his secret playful side that would come out on rare occasions. Nothing like Steve.

“Why give him a chance to hurt her? If he does, Clint will fucking blame it on me, and I’ll blame myself, and I’ll have failed her twice, and Paisley.. She doesn’t deserve that. She deserves the right man at the right time, and him, right now? He’s not it.” Slowly, as I was speaking, I felt emotion come back to me, feeling the weight of my body, feeling exhausted and drained, feeling my body vibrate from the sheer force of the shock. I’d have to accept that Steve and Bucky and Paisley all lied to me about something so stupid, something that very well could have ruined my chances with Steve, but it wasn’t like that mattered, right? I was with Stephen. Everything worked out. It was better this way.

“We don’t know he isn’t, and we shouldn’t control her for our own selfish fears. I agree, he isn’t.. quite what I was expecting, but it’s ultimately Paisley’s decision, and as her friend, you have to honor that.” I looked back at the entrance, wondering if Pai and Peter had rejoined the group, if they even missed us. “Right now, she just needs you to support her, Terrance. Just be there for her.” He paused, seeing my hesitation, considering whether or not it was safe to say anything else, to push his luck. He’d witnessed my anger, knew it was eating away at my judgement, but mentioning it could very well make it worse. It was too unpredictable to really say. “Tell me, if you managed to be the perfect friend for Paisley, would you finally stop acting like her?”

“I don’t act like Paisley. Far from it—”

“You know she’s not who I’m referring to.” There was a palpable pause, my heart skipping a beat, my body tensing up once more from shock, like the way I locked up during horror films ( “You’ll definitely love this one, Terrie. It’s not even scary!” said the worst liar ever, AKA Bucky, AKA not my best friend anymore).

“I.. honestly don’t know,” I admitted lamely. Stephen never mentioned my past, both of us knowing he was aware of it, but him deciding to be respectful of it. It was chilling how observant he was, how he could distinguish lies from the truth like that. “Right now, I just.. I want to not fail Paisley again. I just want to see her smile and laugh again, like the real Pai we knew and loved.”

“She wants that too. This is her way of trying.” Suddenly, my eyes were clouded with tears that just seemed to appear, and I leaned over to find Stephen, resting against him. He gingerly wrapped his arm around my waist to allow me to move closer, and I took in a deep breath only to sigh and wipe my eyes. 

“What should I do? I mean, I can’t just walk back in there and pretend nothing happened, can I?”

“I believe that’s what everyone else is doing. It’s a good step one.”

I nodded once, sniffling and wiping at my eyes again, trying to quickly end the tears and let the redness fade again so we could rejoin the others. By now, my eyelashes were matted together, tangled and clumped, loose ones tearing away easily as I tried to fix them. What a wonderful life it was for me to not worry about makeup. “God, I’m a mess,” I said, letting out some amalgamation from trying to laugh and cry at the same time.

“..You look alluring. Ah, beautiful.” He gave a very slight smile, and I couldn’t help but laugh again and smile back, weak as ever but stable in my current condition thanks to Stephen. We sat in silence for one last moment, my head on his chest while I listened to the beating of his heart and wondered if mine would ever beat the same again, then together we braved the storm that was beginning again.

[eldestatlantica-blog]

Mr. & Mrs. M || Self Para

TW: Mild Violence

A fake smile swept across Attina’s face as the reception died down. She was married. She was his. Luca made a point to remind her at every moment he could. All it did was fuel Attina’s discontent with him. But she had to save face and be the loving wife.

“Goodbye, Daddy,” she kissed her father when it was time to part ways with the guests who remained at the estate and head to her new bedroom, Luca’s room.

Attina hated Luca’s bedroom even if the house in France wasn’t tainted by his aggression. She still hated it knowing it was his. It was made easy because they were all decorated the same way; four-post bed, mahogany furniture, a fireplace with a high-backed chair placed in front of it, and an area for his whiskey.  

“Get undressed,” Luca commanded as he popped the bow tie off from his neck and tossed it on the dresser. He looked at Attina as she stood there, still in her wedding dress. “I said…”

“I know what you said. I will not be ordered around like some whore. I am your wife. I will be spoken to in the manner that I deserve,” she crossed her arms and set her face in a stern expression.

“You’re a stupid child. I gave you my last name. I will speak to you however I please. Get undressed,” his lips curled as the words rolled off his tongue.

“No,” she stomped her foot.

“Stupid bitch,” he grabbed her by the throat and lifted her off the ground. “Do you think your threat works now? You need me. Get undressed before I make you.”

Attina clawed at his hand as she tried to push words out, “Luca,” she gasped, “I’m pregnant.”

Just as quickly as he snatched her up, he let her go. “Really?” His attitude seemed to change at the confession.

“Yes, really.” Attina’s attitude didn’t. Her hands gingerly touched the trace of where his hand had been. “A friend of mine confirmed it. Twins.”

“Twins? Are they mine?”

“Of course they are,” Attina snapped at his question. She wished and prayed that the children were Timothy’s. While she didn’t have feelings for either man, Timothy had the better genetic material out of the two. However, the world would know her children as Luca’s regardless of their true parentage. “Thanksgiving ring any bells?” She hissed as a smirk crossed his lips.

“Are you able to find out what they are? Boys? Girls? One of each?” Luca sounded excited at this news.

“Not yet,” Attina stood awkwardly in the middle of the room still in her wedding gown. “It is still early. When I find out, I will let you know.”

“Why don’t you get out of that dress and come join me by the fire? We can talk about the babies,” Luca walked over and carefully undid the buttons of her dress. Attina was expecting a rougher man on her wedding night. She was expecting the man who choked her and raped her. “I knew marrying an Atlantica would get me an heir,” Luca kissed her shoulder and she tried not to be repulsed by the contact. Even though he was being civil, he was still the monster she knew him to be.

___

The newlyweds fell asleep separately, Attina in the bed and Luca sitting in his armchair. The sounds of the fire dying and their breathing was all that could be heard. Attina, however, had much more going on in her dreams…

“Aileen! Aleesa!” Attina shouted from the outside door of the Italian estate kitchen. “Get in here!” Attina scowled as she called her daughters again.

“Be still, ma’am,” a woman dressed in the household uniforms Luca required said softly as she put plates away. “The girls are probably too busy in the water. Why don’t you go and join them?” Attina smiled back at the woman and stepped out onto the stone pathway, leaving her heels behind, and made her way down to the beach.

“Hey, Mom!” Attina heard before she saw the girls. Attina’s hair floated in the breeze as her feet conformed to the wet sand. “Are you coming in?” Aileen came sloshing through the break with her hand shielding the sun.

“We have to leave soon,” Attina stated using her hands to show her dress. “Aleesa! Get out of there. We should be cleaned up and leaving in five minutes.” The other twin flopped into the water as she heard her mother.

“How do you know that’s not Aileen and I’m not Aleesa?” Aileen asked with a laugh as she wrung out her Long ginger locks.

“Aleesa wouldn’t ask. She’d wait to see how long it took me to figure it out,” Attina smiled and looked back at the crashing waves. “And she cares even less about these things than you do. But…”

“We must go,” mother and daughter said in unison.

“Yes,” Attina smiled. “Run up and try to do something to look presentable. It’s not every day your grandfather receives an award from MACUSA.” Once Aileen was running up toward the house Attina set her hands on her hips and waited for Aleesa to break the surface. “Aleesa Amalia Morretti-Atlantica, I swear on Merlin’s grave that if you don’t get out of that water I will have you spend your Summer breaks doing an internship in the depths of Gringotts!”

“I love your creativity when it comes to punishments,” before Attina heard the deep laugh from behind her, she felt hands wrap around her waist. Her head tilted back as she presented her cheek to be kissed.

“You’re late, too,” Attina was about to turn and look at the man behind her when she saw her other daughter ride in on a wave.

Aleesa whizzed back up to the estate house and shouted, “Hey, Dad!”

___

Attina woke with a gasp. She patted the bed around her and looked around the room. “It was just a dream…” she muttered to herself as she spotted her dress hanging from the bathroom door and Luca’s sleeping figure. If it was only a dream, why did it feel so real? Was it a dream? Or a glimpse into the future?