#I DUNNO LIKE;; wish this was talked more; i find it fascinating and sometimes its just so common on f.go to see servants all around | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

songfell-ut · 4 years

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Rrrrrrgh Chapter 18 rrrrgh

I had to re-insert EVERY GODDAMN LINE BREAK ARGH it also took out all the italics. I’ll get those in a minute ;_;

(Watch out for arachnophobia, angst, aaaaand smut~~)

For the eighth or ninth time, Frisk wished she had just said no. But she hadn’t, and she couldn’t back out now, so she kept walking, arms stiff at her sides.

At least she was almost there: she could hear rustling in the dark up ahead, and faintly musical sounds, like someone twanging a piano wire. Suddenly, her heel stuck on something, her shoe nearly coming off; the next moment, something else tickled her cheek. When she tried to brush it away, it wouldn’t come off her fingers. In the dim light, it looked like…a spiderweb?

There was a high-pitched giggle overhead, and more webbing dropped onto her shoulders. The child was yanked off her feet, pulled straight up until she slammed to a teeth-rattling stop in midair. Heart pounding, head spinning, Frisk tried to tug herself loose, but it was no use: she was caught in the bouncy, gluey strands of…

…a really, really big spiderweb. And where there was a really big spiderweb—

“Ahuhuhu~”

Frisk turned her head as far as she could, and uttered a raspy sound as her gaze met five huge, mirror-shiny black eyes. It was a spider monster in frilly bloomers, ribbons, and pigtails—surprisingly cute, except for its fangs. “My! Whatever do we have here?” The giant spider leaned in closer, and Frisk watched in fascination as her reflection flickered in time with the monster’s blinks. “What brings a bite-sized human like you to my parlor?”

The child couldn’t tear her eyes away from the spider monster’s eerie, fluid movements. It was balancing on the web, brushing crumbs off its sleeve, and dipping a pastry into a cup of tea it’d just poured for itself, all at once! “A-Are you Muffet?” she squeaked.

The spider smirked, nibbling daintily on her pastry. “That’s me, dearie. Did someone send you to find me?” Her face creased into a scowl. “If that skeleton told you it would be funny to disturb us, I swear I’ll—”

Something chittered, and Frisk couldn’t help squirming. Muffet gasped as a tiny shape emerged from the child’s collar. “Alphonse? Oh my goodness me! How did you get here?!”

Frisk shut her eyes tight as the little spider crawled the rest of the way out of her shirt, followed by another, and a few more, and then what seemed like a thousand others. She could feel a tickly procession streaming up her neck and along her arms onto the web, where they swarmed around Muffet, making rapid clicking sounds.

“They gave me a piece of paper asking for help,” the human explained, though the spiders were probably saying the same thing. “They were tired of the Ruins, but Snowdin is too cold, and it’s too expensive to get a heated carriage, so I gave some of them a ride to Hotland.”

All five of Muffet’s eyes sparkled, and she clasped two legs in pure joy. “Oh, what a sweet little morsel you are! You’ve saved us thousands of g, just like that!” Frisk heard more chittering, and found herself being eased free of the webbing and lowered gently until she was back on the sticky floor. “I’m so sorry if I frightened you, dearie—most humans have a nasty habit of squishing spiders, but I didn’t know how very kind you were toward us!”

“You’re welcome,” Frisk said, trying to pick the webbing out of her hair. The grownups had chopped almost all of it off before they left the castle; she’d hate for them to cut the webs out and make it look even worse. “My name is Kris. It’s nice to meet you.”

The spider-lady was ignoring her, listening to what sounded like dozens of little voices at once. She didn’t have eyebrows, but her upper three eyes wiggled in almost the same way. “Really, now?” She regarded Frisk with new interest. “You wouldn’t happen to be ten years old, would you, dearie?”

Where had that come from? None of the other monsters had asked her age. “Um…yes? I don’t know my real birthday, just the year.”

The spiders must have understood her, because the noise increased, and Muffet tittered louder than ever. “How interesting~”

“Why?” the child couldn’t help asking.

“Ohhh, nothing, just a bit of gossip.” Muffet hopped onto a higher strand of webbing, crossing a pair of legs and pouring herself more tea. “Would you like something to eat?” She indicated a table with a pile of iced cakes and a sign reading 9,999 G. “No charge, just for you.”

Was that a spider leg sticking out of the frosting? “I’m full, thank you,” Frisk lied.

“Suit yourself, dearie.” For someone without any lips, the monster could slurp her tea quite loudly. “The spider clans don’t communicate with each other nearly as often as we should, but when someone manages to get here from the Ruins, they tell the most fascinating stories. Like the humans’ last visit here, eleven years ago—did you know that your King came with them? Supposedly, it was a group of minor nobles discussing repairs to the border fence, but no one notices spiders – except you, of course – and they hear all sorts of things behind closed doors~”

The child frowned. “The King was here?” She didn’t think he’d ever been to the Underground; she’d just been glad he hadn’t come on this trip, though she was sorry the Queen was sick. It would’ve been so nerve-wracking to have to behave around him!

“He certainly was.” Muffet licked a drop of tea from the fine hairs on her forelimb. “Yes, the King paid us a secret visit, and poor Chara was never the same afterwards. There was quite a commotion, you know, after he’d been gone a little while. They had to take her all the way to the Ruins so no one would hear her s—”

There was a familiar chuckle behind Frisk. “ahh, muffet. putting the spy in ‘spider,’ huh?” Sans held out his hand, and Frisk gladly took it. “yeah, i dunno what she’s talking about, either. c’mon, kiddo, you shouldn’t be here. time to have a ferry good ride back.”

“On the contrary,” Muffet said haughtily, “this wonderful child is welcome in my parlor any time. I would love to have her over for lunch!” Two sets of arms clapped their hands. “Go on home, dearie. Come and see me again sometime soon.”

“man. you got a knack for making friends, ya know that?” Sans remarked as they stepped around the webs lining the floor. “i didn’t think she liked anyone who wasn’t rich, or fattening.”

Frisk didn’t answer. The corridor had just enough bare, echoing surfaces for her to hear the last of Muffet’s conversation. “Not a word to anyone,” the spider was telling her family, or minions, or whatever they were. “I—what? …Why, yes, he would pay for that information. What a splendid idea! We could even give him a discount! Those glasses are so cute~”

Frisk and Sans looked at each other, shrugged, and moved along to thinking up spider puns to unleash on Pap. It didn’t occur to Frisk until much later that Muffet had said “her”—the smaller ones hadn’t gotten that far under her clothes, had they?

Ah, well. She figured spiders must not know much about human pronouns, and they probably said strange, random things to everyone. It was nothing to worry about.

Many years later, Frisk would remember that and wish she could smack her younger self upside the head. Not only was it racist, it was very incorrect, not to mention ungrateful. Spiders knew damn well what pronouns were, and nothing Muffet had said to her was random. She hadn’t even charged her for it…

The hotel attached to Mettaton’s resort was unbelievably crowded that evening, the air warm and full of amazing smells. Sans had materialized by the fountain in the lobby, figuring it was long enough after dinnertime that there wouldn’t be too many people around. This turned out to be hilariously wrong: the line was still two or three deep at the food counter, the queue winding up and down the room and ending nearly out the doors. There wasn’t enough space for one boss monster to just appear out of nowhere, much less two, but here they were.

“My. Do you think they’ve gotten a room?” Toriel asked dubiously, releasing his arm and nodding to the monsters scrambling out of their way. “Should we check with the front desk?”

Sans glanced around, then relaxed and let his SOUL point him in a direction, like giving a hunting dog a scent to follow. Sure enough, his feet started toward the restaurant on the left side of the resort. “This way,” he grunted.

Luckily, at their size, they didn’t have much trouble getting through the crowd. Nor did they have to say anything to the restaurant’s maître d’: he took one look, bowed so deeply that he almost fell over, and walked ahead of them to harass the seated monsters out of their way.

They soon reached the far end of the room, where Frisk was holding court at a small table with Alphys, Undyne, Mettaton, and a few others. To Sans’ delight, she had perched on the back of a heavy chair, confidently projecting her voice over the other diners. “So I finished the introduction, she came out onstage, and what did she do? She froze right there in front of everyone,” the human said, gesturing with her champagne glass.

This got quite a reaction. “Oh, please,” Mettaton said with a groan.

“Ha!” Undyne thumped the table. “Served her right! What’d you do?”

“I peeked out from behind the curtain, and I looked at her, and I went—” Frisk closed one eye and opened the other as wide as possible, flashing a demented smile, and the monsters cracked up. “She almost started laughing, and it was perfect, because that was where the Queen was bragging about how much everyone loved her!”

“Good evening, everyone,” said Toriel, walking ahead of Sans to join the others. “Forgive me, but, what was this?”

Cries of welcome rang out. “Good evening, Lady Toriel! I was telling them about my friend Mathilda,” explained Frisk.

Standing on the periphery, Sans drank in the sight of his human seated among the monsters, looking adorably tiny by comparison, but completely at home. She was more animated than he’d ever seen her at the castle, her eyes bright and hands in constant motion as she talked. It was everything they’d both hoped for when they came here.

And speaking of drinks, he also had to note all the open bottles of wine and other adult beverages around the table. He remembered ordering several crates of them, but he’d assumed they would be consumed at a slower rate than this; monsters couldn’t handle alcohol as well as most humans. Come to think of it, neither could Frisk.

Mettaton had gotten up to greet Toriel, and was bowing her into his seat; Sans was impressed with his manners until the automaton turned and shooed Alphys out of her chair so he could take it.

Justice came swiftly: Undyne waited for Mettaton to get comfortable, then kicked him under the table hard enough to make a metallic clang. “Never mind him. Here,” she said to Alphys, holding her arm out and patting her lap.

Toriel cleared her throat, and the scientist turned about five shades of reddish-orange. Practical as ever, Undyne got up to grab a chair from another table instead, ignoring its irate former occupant and cramming it between her seat and Frisk’s. “Ta-da!”

When Alphys was happily settled, Toriel gave the automaton and the Royal Guard Captain reproachful glances. “Your friend Mathilda?” she prompted.

Frisk smiled. “Yes, from St. Brigid’s. She wanted me to narrate the part of the spring pageant where she was playing the Queen—have you heard of The Sun Cycle?”

Toriel accepted a glass of red wine from the waiter. “The allegory about the two sisters? Of course. Did Mathilda have a case of stage fright?”

“Right after she spent ten minutes straight telling me not to be shy.” Frisk made another face. “I teased her about that for years.”

Toriel chuckled. “And rightfully so.”

Sans was busy staring at Frisk when she suddenly looked straight at him. “Sans?” He jumped, then scowled self-consciously as she shifted her weight. “I hate to make you stand there—is there anywhere he can sit?” she asked the group.

There was a general murmur and scooting-out to make room, but Sans waved his hand. “Nah, don’t worry about it. ‘s what I get fer bein’ late to the party,” he muttered.

The priestess frowned a little. “Well, if you’re sure…” She indicated a green jug on the table. “You wanted to try some hard cider, didn’t you? Now’s your chance.”

“’m fine,” he said gruffly, and she gave him a short nod before Mettaton reclaimed her attention with a question about human seating etiquette.

Sans wanted to smack himself on the cranium. Typical Frisk: she was mad at him, but still didn’t want him be to left out. Well, neither did he! It physically hurt to keep himself from going over and petting her hair, tucking that one bit behind her ear, asking how she was feeling…

Yeah, this whole staying-apart thing wasn’t fucking working. If he couldn’t have some time alone with her soon, he was going to throw her over his shoulder and teleport them both far, far away, which would probably look a little suspicious. What would it take to—

Alphys coughed. “S-So did the rest of the pageant go all right?”

Frisk sipped her champagne. “Oh, yes. I’ve always loved that story, and I didn’t have to be onstage, so I—” She paused and held the empty glass out, and another waiter swooped in to refill it. “Thank you.” Sip. “It was wonderful. We had a five-piece orchestra playing along, and the Queen’s song, ‘Daylight’s Lament,’ actually brought people to tears.”

Sans wasn’t thinking very straight, or else he would known better than to say, “Is that the mopey thing you’re always singin’?”

Everyone turned toward him, and he shrank back at the priestess’ expression. “Are you a musician, Frisk?” Toriel asked around her refilled wineglass.

“Yes, I was in the choir at school,” the human said, giving Sans a significant look. “The Sun Cycle had just been adapted into a musical, and we all nagged our teachers until they let us perform it.” She grinned ruefully. “It was the best political training I’ve ever had. If you want to delve into the darkest side of human nature, just tell a group of teenage girls that only one of them gets to play the Queen.”

They all laughed, though no one disagreed. “And Mathilda got it?” Sans asked, just to contribute.

“Yes, she did,” Frisk replied. Her feet swung back and forth a few times, drawing his attention again. “She tends to get what she wants.”

Trying to distract himself, Sans remembered something and asked, “Isn’t she the one who’s gonna replace you?” They looked at him in surprise, and he added, “Y’know, if you ever decide ta quit?”

That earned him another glare. “Yes, if I ever do. The only reason I became High Priestess and not her was that my magic was stronger. Otherwise, she’d have been perfect.”

“Now, now. I would think—no, I know that you’re doing an excellent job,” Toriel said warmly, and the priestess ducked her head.

“Wait a sec.” Undyne banged her mug on the table, startling Alphys. “Didn’t you say somebody tried to kill you ‘cause you’re the High Priestess? Aren’t you worried someone’ll come after her, too?”

“Well…not really.” Frisk made a complicated gesture. “It may sound cold, but you’ve never met Mathilda. She doesn’t have time to be assassinated. If the Church didn’t pay for a half-dozen guards everywhere she went, she’d just hire them herself and go about her day.”

“Nice,” said Undyne, but despite Frisk’s light tone, Sans wasn’t so sure about the way she was frowning into her champagne glass. Did she feel guilty for being so cavalier about her friend’s safety?

…No, that wasn’t it. He had a sudden attack of insight: Frisk wasn’t only in danger because she was the High Priestess; she was also in the way of people who profited off monsters. Did Mathilda have different views on the subject – maybe more safe or conventional ones – that would keep her from being targeted?

What about the person who had paid to keep Frisk safe? He still had to tell her about that, too, assuming he ever got the fucking chance!

That was enough of that topic. What else could they talk about? “How’d it go in the lab today, Al?” he asked.

This time, they all looked at him as though he’d thrown dog turds onto the table, and a couple of the other monsters actually got up and left. His stupid, tired, frustrated mind took a second to catch up: everyone knew that Alphys had been testing Frisk’s magic, and as much as they liked and hopefully trusted the human by now, they didn’t want to hear about her barriers.

“Um…” Alphys fidgeted with her mug of spiced cider. “You were r-right. I couldn’t even quantify how much f-force she could potentially withstand. It’s honestly still hard to believe.”

“Yeah, it turns out she’s even better than we thought,” Undyne said defiantly, and raised her mug. “Toast: to Frisk being on our side!”

Frisk raised her glass in reply, downing the rest of the champagne in one gulp, and everyone with a drink quickly followed suit. As the waiter came back for more refills, Sans nodded his thanks to Undyne; she stared at him, then drew her thumb across her throat to indicate that he was dead. He shrugged, agreeing that that was fair.

Alphys fidgeted again. “Actually, Sans, I’d like to t-talk to you about that sometime soon. Alone, m-maybe?”

The skeleton blinked. “Uh…okay.” Now that a few chairs were empty across from Frisk, he walked over to shove them aside and sit down on the floor, putting his eye level only a foot or two below the others. Why would Alphys need to talk to him alone? If she wanted more data, why not include Frisk? He’d have to find out later.

Undyne scowled, half-turning to drape her arm over Alphys’ shoulders; the lizard monster turned a few more colors, then leaned into her. Good for them, thought Sans, with only a twinge of jealousy. “I remember when I was a kid and I used to snoop around in my parents’ room,” Undyne continued. “My mom got fed up and told me there was a human hiding in her closet. Not only did I stop sneaking in there, I’d run past their door to get to my room!”

Sans forced himself to join in the laughter. “Poor Pap,” he remarked. “When he was a kid, I got him that pirate bed, and he wouldn’t stop jumpin’ on it in the middle of the night. I didn’t wanna take it away, so I said there was a human under it ‘n Pap was gonna wake him up.”

“Sans,” Frisk scolded him, but she was smiling now.

“It’s true,” he said gleefully. “The next night, I found him makin’ a decoy to throw into bed so he could go hide in the closet.”

Undyne guffawed, and Toriel shook her head, though she was also smiling. “That poor child! Tell me he isn’t still sleeping in the closet, Sans!”

“He’s not. I made a big deal about talkin’ with the librarian and finding out humans are scared of books about Fluffy Bunny. We read one every night from then on, and whaddya know? The human never got ‘im,” the skeleton said proudly.

They laughed again, and the last of the tension dissipated. “Speakin’ of Papyrus, where is he?” Sans asked, feeling guilty for not noticing sooner. “Hope I didn’t miss ‘im on his way home.”

Mettaton couldn’t drink, so he had spent most of the conversation checking his face paint; he sighed theatrically, putting the mirror away in his chest compartment. “He got drunk already, the poor dear. I sent him upstairs to sleep it off.”

Sans didn’t have to fake a grin. “Makes sense. It only takes half a mudslide to get him started tellin’ everyone how bad my jokes are, and tellin’ the jokes ta prove it, and then gettin’ mad that he knows all my jokes by heart.”

“A ‘mudslide’?” Frisk repeated.

“Yep. ’s one of Grillby’s finest cocktails: magic ‘n mud.”

The human looked puzzled. “By ‘mud,’ you mean…?”

“Wet dirt,” Sans clarified.

“…You…drink…?” Frisk couldn’t bring herself to finish the sentence. “What does that even taste like?”

Pause. “Mud.”

More laughter. Frisk’s nose was wrinkled, but she was still smiling; that was enough for Sans.

He didn’t want to ruin the mood by saying something else stupid, so he nodded to her and turned to survey the now-half-empty room. It must have been pretty late, because the maître d’ wasn’t letting anyone else in. The nearest table had just one person, and—

It was sitting there, out of nowhere, legs dangling over the side of the table. The demon-child locked eyes with Sans, hands resting on the knife in its lap, and it grinned.

Sans stared back at it, paralyzed. Through the fog of shock and terror, there arose a single thought: Are you fucking serious?! I don’t need this right now!

The thing shook its head. It looked meaningfully at their table – at Frisk – and back at him. It raised the kitchen knife, pointing at the side of its own head, and made a circling motion.

Sans managed to twitch with sheer rage as he recognized that childish gesture. The little bastard had come all the way here to tell him Frisk was crazy?

Its grin faded into a faint, superior smile. It lowered the knife and tapped on its sternum three times. Then it shifted around to face the human; to Sans’ bewilderment, it sat cross-legged and leaned forward on its elbows, ruby eyes glued to Frisk, as if waiting for a play to begin.

What was it doing? …Why was it doing? He had the feeling that it genuinely wasn’t interested in him for the moment. What did it think Frisk was going to—

“Sans?” Her voice snapped him out of it; the skeleton found he could move again. “What’s the matter?”

“Uh…” He looked at her, then back at the demon. It was gone now, of course. “Nothin’.” He glanced back and forth a couple of times just to be sure. What the hell was that about? The thing wanted to tell him that Frisk was nuts and Sans should check her SOUL? But…

Sans shook himself, turning to size up the room. Everyone was slightly to moderately tipsy, but relaxed, probably ready to call it a night soon. There was absolutely no sign of danger anywhere; even if there was, Sans couldn’t imagine a threat too big for him, Toriel, Undyne, and Frisk.

To hell with that thing. He wasn’t going to ogle her SOUL for no reason in front of everyone; somebody would notice and give him crap for it, she’d get embarrassed, and he’d have yet another thing to make up to her.

Toriel took a bottle of wine directly from a passing waiter and poured herself another glass. “Where are you staying tonight, my child?”

The human brushed her hair behind her ear. Sans glanced at her, and his spine stiffened: she was looking right at him, her finger tracing the edge of her choker. “My things are still at Sans and Papyrus’ house, so I was planning to stay in Snowdin tonight at the inn.”

The skeleton tried to hide his sudden jubilation. She was telling him she’d have her own room, which meant some damn privacy at last! He’d have a chance to tell her things and apologize for being stupid about the chessboard, and then…choker, and—

“Whaaat? You have an entire new wardrobe upstairs, and you want to go all the way back to that smelly wasteland?” Mettaton complained. Sans gritted his teeth as the automaton reached over to play with Frisk’s hair, sweeping it up with one gloved hand. “You know, darling, if you’d let me put this up for you, it wouldn’t keep getting in your way. Why don’t you stay here another night so we can figure it out?”

“I’ll be fine, thank you,” Frisk said tartly, pushing his arm away.

Mettaton pouted. “But what about—”

“She said no, dipshit,” Sans snarled. “Not everyone has time to play dress-up.”

“Oh?” drawled the automaton. He sized up the giant skeleton and flashed a literally pearly-white smile. “I see. Well, if she absolutely must stop in at your hovel, be sure she has everything she needs. You know, her clothes, a few midnight snacks…plenty of socks?”

Undyne and Alphys nearly spat their drinks across the table. Sans twitched as though he’d been poked in the SOUL—which, in a way, he had. “Ya wanna die, ya friggin’ piece of—”

“Be nice, children,” Toriel mumbled. She covered her mouth for a massive yawn, nearly dropping her wineglass. “Speaking of wardrobes, Frisk, I had enough time after my nap this afternoon to go through Chara’s old clothes. I found several things that should fit you. Why don’t you stay over another night so we can try them on?”

The human’s face was still red. “No, thank you, Lady Toriel,” Frisk said over the faintest murmur of “Socks” and barely-suppressed snickering.

The former Queen sighed, too far gone in memory – and alcohol – to notice. “It would be so cute to see you in those dresses,” she murmured. “We can hem them up if we need to. You’re about the same size she was at…goodness, fourteen or fifteen!”

“Yes, childhood malnutrition will do that.” Frisk accepted yet another refill from yet another waiter. “My mother took no care of me.”

“You poor thing.” Toriel shook her head. “How I wish you could have stayed and grown up here! We would never have neglected you like that.”

Undyne sighed, propping her head on one fist. “Yeah, that would’ve been amazing.”

Mettaton also sighed, lacing his fingers together and resting his head on them. “For once, darling, we agree. She should know at least five times as many dances as I’ve taught her.”

Toriel hiccuped. Sans had always heard that drunk people did that, but never seen it for himself. “And she could’ve sang for us, too. My poor little angel—such a wonderful child!”

Frisk smiled, until Toriel went on, “Yes, I’ll always miss Chara. Did you ever get to meet her, Frisk?”

No answer. Sans’ backbone prickled; he checked the other table, but the demon wasn’t there. He glanced at Frisk, and to his alarm, she was almost literally vibrating with tension.

Alphys was also squinting at the human, as if checking her. Whatever she saw made her eyes go wide, and she signaled frantically at Sans. “So, Frisk,” he said, too loud.

She looked up, startled. “Uh,” he said. Crap. Now he had everyone’s attention, and he had to say more words. This time, though, he made himself think first, settling on a topic so safe and dull that nothing bad could possibly come of it. “I just remembered—when I was passin’ stuff out with the Royal Guard earlier, we found a couple small discrepancies in the list,” he said casually. “I made some notes about it. Can you and Tori take a look real quick?”

“Of course. I’m sure it’s fine, though,” Frisk said, giving him another smile. Then, as he started to reach into his coat for the invoices…

It was the tiniest movement, and he just barely caught it. She took too large a drink and slopped champagne onto the corner of her mouth, which she chose to lick off slowly, eyes on his.

Sans would think of that moment and berate himself for years afterward. For one thing, he didn’t know or care how openly he was staring at her, or who was watching; more importantly, his hand kept moving while the rest of his mind did a belly-flop into a mire of absolute lust, all his resources suddenly diverted to socks and lace chokers and that cute little mouth…desperation to run his hands all over her again and find out if she still had that weird blood thing going, what her exact criteria were for it being the right time to—

Left to manage on its own, his hand knew only that it was supposed to get something for her out of his pocket. It encountered the papery thing he needed, and then another thing it knew was for her, and dutifully pulled both things out. He didn’t have enough concentration to use magic and send the invoices directly to her, so he tossed them onto the table with a solid thmp. “Pass that t’ Frisk, wouldja?” his mouth said.

A couple shreds of conscious thought worked themselves free, wondering why the papers had gone thmp. Paper wasn’t supposed to go thmp. What had he…

Oh. It was the heavy golden envelope, the one with the King’s letter for her.

On the table.

…With her full name on the front.

Right by Undyne, who was reaching to pick it up, just like he’d asked.

Time slowed to a crawl. Icy dread swept over him, and he raised his hand, knowing it was too late—Undyne had handed over the invoices and was already saying, “Heyyy, what’s this, boss?” Before he could stand up or regroup his magic, the Royal Guard Captain flipped the envelope around to read the calligraphy. “Fancy! Is it a love letter for—”

She stopped. Sans’ SOUL shrank to nothing as the fish monster’s brows drew together. “Hey. Your Majesty?” she asked, raising her voice.

Toriel finished her drink, trying to set her glass down and missing the table entirely. “Yes, Captain?”

Undyne gave a puzzled half-smile. “Did you adopt Frisk or something?”

Frisk looked up from the invoices. The goat monster glanced at her, then chuckled. “Why, no, not that I’m aware of.” Toriel was smiling, too, clearly waiting for a punchline.

Sans snatched at the envelope with a burst of red magic and shoved it into his pocket. “Hey, Frisk! Guess what? Time ta go!”

Frisk started, and had to catch herself before she fell off the chair. “What? Why do—”

“Then how come she has your last name?” asked Undyne.

Silence. Toriel and Undyne were awkwardly smiling, each waiting for the other to speak and growing more confused as the seconds ticked by.

Alphys frowned, then peered at Frisk, who was staring at the panicky skeleton. “Sans,” the human said softly. “What is she talking about?”

Sans was still sitting on the floor, and couldn’t get up; he felt sick as Frisk stepped down from her perch and came over to him. “What do you have there?” she asked, even softer.

His hand moved on its own again to pull out the envelope. “’s a letter,” he mumbled. “I was gonna give this to ya later, when we talked about—”

Frisk snatched the envelope and turned it over. He forced his sockets to stay open as her face went pale, then stark white. Slowly, her head lifted until their eyes met. “I didn’t mean ta get it out yet,” he said helplessly. “It was an accident. I’m—”

“Where did you get this?” she asked carefully. “When did you get this?”

“Yesterday. From…from Dr. Serif. He met me in the village to help get all the stuff ready, and the King gave it to ‘im ‘cause he thought you’d be—”

“This is from my father?” Frisk stared at the dark-gold calligraphy, then at him. Sans just stared back, letting his silence speak for itself.

Alphys squinted one more time at Frisk’s chest. Then she bolted from her seat, skittered around the table to Mettaton, and latched onto his arm. “You need to get everyone out of here! Right now!” she hissed.

The automaton quirked a lacquered eyebrow at her. “Are you joking? This is the most—”

“I said now!”

Toriel and Undyne watched Mettaton scramble out of his chair, leap straight into the middle of the room, and strike a pose. “Hello, beauties!” he called to the remaining twenty or so diners, giving Alphys a nervous glance. “This is your lucky night! We’re going to have a scavenger hunt, and the prize is me—one candlelit dinner with yours truly! Follow me to Paradise!”

Alphys breathed a sigh of relief as the monsters trooped out, dragging the waiters and the protesting maître d’ with them, and the doors slammed shut. The royal scientist gestured to Toriel, then Undyne, who had come around to their side of the table. “We should leave, too,” Alphys said urgently.

“What?” The goat monster frowned at her, and at Frisk, whose shoulders had hunched. “Are you all right, my chi—”

“Yes!” They jumped as Frisk whipped around, clutching the envelope to her breast, giving them a dreadful smile. “Yes. Yes, I…I’m fine. I just need to—” She gulped. “Never mind. I have to talk to Sans.” She held her hand out. “Let’s go.” He didn’t move, and she said desperately, “Now? Please?”

A tiny quiver of fear ran through him, and not just because he, personally, was in an absolute world of shit. He could feel the air around Frisk grow heavier, and for the first time in a long time, his instincts were urging him to back away. Her magic was building rapidly, as if she was getting a barrier ready, but she wasn’t doing it on purpose. What did she—

Oh, crap. Not only were they Underground, where magic was naturally stronger than above, she was already at least a little drunk, and tired, and…well, “upset” would not begin to cover the fallout of his slip-up. Was Alphys worried something would happen? But…

Just to be sure, Sans took a long look at Frisk’s SOUL. For a second, he thought something was wrong with his vision, or he was just out of practice; then he realized that, for once, he was not the problem.

Her SOUL was a goddamn mess. It shone as bright and beautifully red as when he’d first seen it, but where it had been rock-solid with determination, it now looked more like a snowglobe that kept getting shaken up before the glitter had a chance to settle. Magic was seeping through her skin and beginning to tint the air around her, and if she was aware of it, she wasn’t even trying to control it.

Fuck. Alphys had been smart enough to keep an eye on Frisk’s SOUL when she started getting agitated about Chara—had the scientist noticed some instability when she was testing the human’s magic? Either way, she’d been scared enough to have Mettaton clear the room.

But it wasn’t as if the monsters should be scared of Frisk, was it? Sure, she seemed pretty volatile right now, but she was still Frisk! She would never hurt anyone! At least, not on purpose…

Sans couldn’t help glancing at the other table. Sure enough, the demon-child was back, grinning and clapping its hands in sheer delight. “Told you so,” it said gaily.

Undyne coughed. “Uh…Frisk? Why’d your dad call you that?”

Frisk gestured one more time, and Sans made himself look at her hand with a grim, apologetic shake of his head. His SOUL wanted to tear loose and go hide at the way her face contorted. “You’ve gotta calm down, kid,” he said quietly. He didn’t know how to explain in front of everyone that her magic was too thick for him to teleport her anywhere without touching her, and doing so right now would singe him down to the bone—probably straight through it. “Please,” he added.

The priestess let her hand drop. She closed her eyes in resignation, pinching the bridge of her nose. “He called me that because I’m illegitimate, and I have to use my mother’s name.”

Pause. Sans shuffled back a little as Frisk’s eyes opened again, taking in the monsters’ blank faces. “Oh, for God’s sake! Do I need to spell it out for you?” She brandished the envelope at them: FRISK DREEMURR. “That was Chara’s last name, and she was my mother!”

The world stopped for a moment. Sans watched Toriel, breathless, painfully aware that her reaction was the one that really mattered. If she took Frisk seriously, then the priestess could probably recover her equilibrium and work through some of her feelings. If she didn’t—

Toriel was frowning in bewilderment. Then…she started to smile, and Sans’ SOUL shrieked in panic: Nonono, don’t do it, don’t—

The former Queen gave a polite little laugh. “I’m…sorry, my child, but…there must be some mistake.”

The air crackled, not loud enough yet for the others to hear. Frisk gripped the letter harder, still holding it at arm’s length. “Why do you say that?” she asked, too calm.

“Well…” Oh, crap. Now Undyne was smiling, too, only stopping when Alphys yanked on her sleeve. “Sorry,” the Captain said, “but c’mon. Chara never even had any kids!”

“Yeah, she did,” said Sans, and the women looked at him in astonishment. Frisk’s arm fell to her side as he continued, “The humans who visited ‘bout twenty-four years ago had their King with ‘em, and he knocked her up. She hid it till the last second, ‘n then she gave birth in the Ruins so no one would see anything.” He glanced at Toriel. “Right?”

It was hard to say who was the most shocked. “I thought Chara had me after she left the Underground! You mean I was born here?” demanded Frisk.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me!” barked Undyne. She looked at Toriel, whose eyes were huge, hands pressed to her mouth. “I-I mean—” The fish monster turned to Alphys. “Don’t humans get really big and weird when they’re pregnant? Wouldn’t we have noticed something?”

“Not n-necessarily,” Alphys said, fiddling with her claws faster than ever. “It depends on the individual, and how the baby d-develops. Besides, it’s not as if we had other humans to compare her with. She could’ve just w-worn thick clothes and stayed out of sight.”

“Huh.” Undyne stared at the floor. “Now that you mention it, she did spend a few months cooped up in the house before she left. But—”

“Where did you hear this, Sans?” None of them had ever heard Toriel sound like that, her gentle voice lowered to an almost bestial snarl. “Who told you?”

Sans grimaced. “You guys cleared everyone out of the Ruins, but you didn’t get all the spiders. They saw what happened, an’ they heard her tell you who the dad was.”

Toriel’s mouth fell open. “Spiders?”

“Yep. Some of ‘em made it over to Hotland while Kris was here, and they told Muffet, an’ she wound up sellin’ the story to Grillby. I don’t think he ever told anyone else. He just likes knowin’ stuff.” The skeleton scratched the back of his skull. “When I asked him ‘bout Chara the other day, he told me everything. I just never got a friggin’ chance to talk to Frisk about it.”

Another long pause. Was it his imagination, or was the air getting hotter? The priestess was only a few feet away, and though he didn’t have the courage to look at her again, that side of his body was tingling very unpleasantly.

Toriel’s face had hardened, her arms folded at the waist. “Be that as it may, it proves absolutely no connection between her and Chara.”

God damn it. “No, they didn’t know for a fact that Frisk was her kid. But her age matched up, and a bunch of the spiders who rode with her were right next to her SOUL for a few hours. They said she had a buttload of magic, and it smelled like the Underground—way more than any human’s should.”

“It would explain how she’s so powerful,” mused Alphys. “With the capability to use magic from her f-father’s side, and being c-conceived and gestated here, she probably started accruing it before she was even born. She’s already proven that she can convert a monster’s power for herself, so…”

“Holy shit,” whispered Undyne. “So Chara really did have a kid?”

“Yes, she did,” the former Queen said tightly. “We just thought she was ill and shutting herself away for a while. She didn’t tell us how Stephin had betrayed our hospitality until she was nearly in labor, and she begged us not to tell any of the other monsters.” Toriel was gripping her own sleeves hard enough to puncture the fabric. “We gave her two months to recover, and then Asgore sent them both to Stephin. The baby wasn’t very strong, but Asgore was afraid that if we kept her here, Stephin would think we were holding his child hostage.”

No one answered, and Toriel swallowed hard. “A few weeks later, Chara returned to us in agony. Stephin had just become engaged to another woman, and he refused to break it off. The baby had become sick after leaving the Underground, and when Chara started preparing for the journey back here, she…the child didn’t make it home.” The former Queen wiped her eyes with the side of her hand. “I am sorry, Frisk, but there is no way you could be—”

“Yes, there is,” Frisk said, sounding oddly detached. “Chara lied to you. I didn’t die—she left me with a wet nurse and paid her to be my foster mother.”

Sans wanted to dive out of the way as Toriel took a step toward the human, Undyne and Alphys also shrinking back. “You mean to tell me,” the goat monster said, deathly quiet, “that my daughter knowingly abandoned her child and deceived her family?”

“Yes. She did.” Frisk was standing firm, but the monsters could see the haze coming off her like a golden mist; Sans traded looks with Undyne, who pulled Alphys closer. “If you really think it’s impossible for me to be Chara’s daughter, why did you ask my exact age?” the human demanded. “Why did you want to know how old I was when I first visited, and why did Asgore ask Sans the very same thing? You knew Chara had had a baby girl ten years before the delegation arrived, and then you found out Kris was a girl. Were you wondering if I was actually—”

“No!” They flinched at Toriel’s sheer vehemence. She gritted her teeth, trying to control her temper. “It was all Asgore’s fault. When Chara returned to us, he had the temerity to accuse her of lying about her child’s death. He told her she was not welcome unless she brought the baby back with her! Of course we didn’t see her again for ten years!” Smoke drifted from between her fingers as she wiped her eyes again. “I still don’t know how he could have done something so cruel, or how he told you about it, but my only regret is that I ever considered the possibility for a single second! I know you are both wrong!”

Frisk’s eyes narrowed, and Sans jumped as a golden spark flew in his direction. He quashed the reflex to teleport to safety and stood up, only for Frisk to look around him, as though he wasn’t there. “I haven’t spoken to Asgore since I was a child. He has nothing to do with this conversation,” she snapped. “Do you know who first told me Chara was my mother?”

Toriel tried to give her a tolerant smile. “No, child. Who first told you?”

“Asriel.” Before the goat monster could react, Frisk pressed on, “He put the pieces together after he saw me make a barrier by accident. He knew that that ability ran in the royal family, and the King had fathered Chara’s child, so he asked her if it could be me. Chara got him to bring me to her, and he told me who I really was.” The envelope trembled in her hands. “He told me I’d come home.”

Toriel’s eyes widened again. She started to speak, but Frisk raised her voice: “Chara said my nurse had told her I’d died, and she apologized to me for how she acted whenever she visited the orphanage or the castle kitchens.” The human’s face had the hard, bitter expression Sans recognized from the time she’d caught him trying to escape. “She was so sweet to all the other children, and then she looked at me like I was some kind of diseased rat! She said it was because I reminded her of her little girl and it made her sad, and she didn’t know it was actually me!”

“There!” Toriel exclaimed. “You see? The nurse wanted to hide the King’s child for her own gain, and—”

“Chara knew who I was all along!” bellowed Frisk, and it was the goat monster’s turn to step back. “She knew damn well that I was alive! Why else would she pay my foster mother a hundred dinar every month for ten years? How did she know to check in on me every so often to see if I still existed? Why’d she leave me to be beaten and starved half to death while she kept the thousands my father gave her to support us both and did whatever she liked?!”

“How dare you say that? My child would never have—”

“She would, and she did! I’m sorry, Toriel, but she lied to everyone, especially you! Chara abandoned me until I was useful for something besides money, and she tore your family apart to punish Asgore for being right about her!”

“ENOUGH!” roared Toriel. She made a violent gesture, flame sizzling through the air. “I will not hear any more of this! Do you understand, High Priestess?! Whatever you may think happened, I know my daughter, and I know what she was and was not capable of! If you’re going to insist on slandering her any further, perhaps it would be better for you to l—”

The echoes died. The fury in Toriel’s gaze was gone, a hand coming back to her mouth.

“Better for me to what, Lady Toriel?” Frisk asked, so gently that Sans cringed. “Should—” Her throat worked. “Should I leave the Underground? Are you going to send me away again?”

Toriel didn’t have the chance to reply. A barrier screamed to life overhead, and constricted until it formed a dome around them only about twenty feet across and fifteen feet high. “All right. I understand,” said Frisk.

Undyne reacted first, pushing Alphys to the floor and stuffing her under the table. “Frisk!” snapped the fish monster. “Calm down, okay? She didn’t mean it!”

“She didn’t mean to say I was lying?” Frisk inquired, her voice suddenly rising to a shriek: “She didn’t mean to tell me to get out?”

“Frisk!” Sans tried to grab her shoulder, only for a flare of gold to warn him away. “C’mon, sweetheart! Ya gotta stop it! We can talk about this!”

“We just did, Sans!” He had seen her in pain before, but it was nothing compared to the wild-eyed stare she turned on him now. “We talked about it because you couldn’t wait to show everyone who I was! Thank you so much for helping me have this difficult conversation! We’ve finally answered the question of whether someone else I love is going to call me a liar!”

Sans’ SOUL already hurt so much that it took a moment to remember what she—oh, God. She meant when she’d told him she was Kris, and he’d scoffed at her until she stripped down to prove it. Now she’d been forced to reveal her identity to Toriel in the least natural way possible, and she didn’t believe her, either. “Frisk—”

She was smiling, but in a very unhinged way. “No, I should really be thanking you. Life is so much simpler now! I don’t have to waste any more time and energy wondering if I should feel worthless, because the closest person to a real mother I’ve ever had just told me so!”

Sans couldn’t answer: he had to fling himself backward before a cascade of sparks hit him in the face. Frisk drifted away a few steps and sank to her knees, hands still clenched on the envelope in her lap. “It’s fine,” she mumbled at the floor. “Food, presents, bubbles—I already gave you everything I have. If you don’t want me anymore, then…”

Toriel was rooted to the spot, chest heaving. The barrier sank lower, nearly grazing her horns, and Undyne rushed to sling her under the table as more sparks flew. “Sans!” the Captain shouted over the crackle and hiss of human magic.

The skeleton glared down at Toriel, and shook his head as she tried to speak. Frisk was too far gone—anything else the goat monster said would just aggravate her further, assuming she could even hear it.

Meanwhile, the dome was slowly closing in on them, and they couldn’t do a damn thing about it. If he tried to touch Frisk now, she’d just shove more magic at him; not only would that hurt like hell, it’d trap them all between two layers of barrier. He yelled her name again, but she didn’t move.

Shit! Why hadn’t Alphys warned him sooner? Why hadn’t Undyne kept her goddamn mouth shut about the letter? And if Toriel couldn’t accept right away that everything she knew was wrong and Chara was even worse than Sans had imagined, couldn’t she have found a way to deny it without completely destroying Frisk?!

Why hadn’t he—

No, all that mattered right now was getting through to her. The light surrounded them in blinding golden pulses, the barrier crackling like…

Humming. The barrier was making a hell of a lot of noise, and it…didn’t sound like her humming at all. Why was he thinking of that now?

…Because the last time his magic had been out of control, in his prison cell, she’d calmed him down by humming. But he hadn’t even heard her at first; he’d only snapped out of it when she touched his blaster – the physical embodiment of his magic – with her bare hand. He never did explain to her what a no-no that was…

Sans looked at his hand. He looked at his priestess, curled in on herself, lost in misery. The golden dome was so close to the crown of his skull that he could feel his whole body screaming at him to run.

The giant skeleton looked Toriel in the eye. Then he squeezed his sockets shut, lifted his arm, and placed his hand flat on the barrier.

Something…happened.

One second, the pressure in Frisk’s head was intolerable, grief and despair rising to a fever pitch, spurred by the determination to keep the monsters here until they changed their minds, till they were sorry. Then—

The sensation could only be likened to someone running their finger down the inside of her chest, the most strange and intimate thing she’d ever felt. It should have been horrible, or at least uncomfortable, but…

But it didn’t feel invasive. It felt like someone giving her heart a gentle nudge, saying in a familiar, gravelly baritone, “’s all right, Frisk. It’s gonna be okay. I promise. But you gotta stop now, ‘kay?”

The feeling slipped away. She stirred, trying to get it back; Frisk opened her eyes and—

Sans. Her chest gave a happy little shiver as she saw him looking down at her. He was standing nearby, giving her a strained smile and…and touching—the barrier—

Fear jolted her fully awake. Frisk whistled as hard as she could, and the searing golden light vanished. Her whole body ached, but it was nothing compared with what she glimpsed as Sans lowered his arm. “Oh, God! Sans—”

“Hey, kitten,” mumbled the boss monster. He had to stifle a grunt, shuffling hastily to turn his back to her. “Tori, could I…get a hand with this? Heh…ow…”

Frisk tried to get up from where she was kneeling, or at least stop shaking. Green light shone around Sans’ huge form, but she barely noticed; all she could see in her mind’s eye were his blackened metacarpals, the smaller bones not just burned, but partially melted by her magic.

Her legs refused to work. Frisk dropped the envelope and shuffled herself around in a half circle to see if anyone else was hurt, and whether they had seen her nearly kill her poor skeleton. No one was here…

“Aww, darn. You were so close.”

…except for a voice that felt like spiders crawling into her brain. The demon-child sat on the edge of a nearby table, shaking its head at her and sighing. Then it gave her an encouraging grin. “Oh, well. That was still fun—just like old times. Don’t worry, you’ll get ‘em someday!”

Someone moved behind her. Frisk blinked hard, then shuddered, and pushed herself up onto her feet, standing with her back to the demon.

Undyne was climbing out from under their table and offering a webbed hand to Alphys. “Undyne?” The human moved gingerly toward them. “Are you two all right?”

The Captain’s eye widened, and her arm shot out, protecting Alphys from…from what? Frisk glanced around them, looking for—

Her. Undyne was protecting Alphys from her.

And why not? Hadn’t she done exactly what the monsters feared most—trapped them with a barrier, maimed someone, and nearly killed them? Even Undyne was afraid of her now!

Frisk shouldn’t have gotten up: she felt her body go heavy, legs giving way. She was only vaguely aware that she was going to fall, and that Undyne was hesitating, moving too late to catch her.

A soft, tingling sensation stopped her just short of the marble floor, lifting her higher into the air. To her dismay, she was enveloped in red magic, and Sans was reaching for her; Frisk tried to say, “No, don’t—”

His arms closed around her, strong and safe, his injured hand settling her against his shoulder. The other drew his coat over her legs; a shaky phalange ran through her hair, and a shakier voice rumbled, “Y’okay, sweetheart?”

Frisk wound her arms around his neck as tight as they’d go, not caring how his vertebrae dug into her flesh. She was too numb to cry, and she didn’t have the strength to ask what he was doing, or why he was anywhere near her. All she could do was hang on.

Undyne cleared her throat. “She…is she okay now?”

“She’ll be fine,” snapped the giant skeleton, and immediately stroked Frisk’s hair again as she trembled. “Shh, s’alright,” he murmured.

“Sans,” Toriel said brokenly. “I—”

The world tipped and swerved as Sans shifted his weight, turning them away. “C’mon, kitten. Let’s go home.”

“To your house?” Undyne was still shaken, but Frisk heard a warning note in her voice. “Look, I know you’re really emotional right now, but she’s not in any condition to—”

“To sleep!” he snarled. “I’m takin’ ‘er home, and we’re gonna sleep! Good fuckin’ night!”

A tiny part of Frisk wanted to tell him to be nice, but she couldn’t even stay conscious. The last thing she heard was Toriel’s cry of “Sans, wait!” before his magic rushed them through space. Then—

On her third day at the convent, they finally made her leave her room.

Frisk kept her eyes on the ground, letting the matron steer her down a hall and out into a courtyard full of chattering girls. The noise dropped a little as they saw her, but when Frisk stayed by the wall, there was a collective shrug, and the chatter resumed.

The wind was howling. Frisk wiped her nose on the sleeve of her new uniform, wondering dully if it was going to snow out here. The drifts in front of Sans and Papyrus’ house never seemed to go down, no matter how often they tossed her into them.

Did they miss her yet? Did they even know she was gone? Or had the accident—

“Excuse me?”

Frisk looked up. Through her tears, she saw a group of older girls standing in front of her, with a grownup right behind—the Sister must have ordered them to come be nice to the new girl. Sure enough, the speaker was holding out a handkerchief, looking kind and concerned. “Thank you,” Frisk whispered, taking it and wiping her eyes.

“It’s all right. I know I was very sad when I first got here,” the girl said, a little too loud. She smiled, and Frisk tried not to shudder—she’d gotten so used to monsters that the girl’s pretty blue eyes, golden hair, and rosy skin looked fake, like a doll.

The grownup nodded approval and moved away to yell at another group for telling dirty jokes. Immediately, the blonde girl’s smile sharpened, and she wrinkled her nose. “Keep it,” she said curtly.

That was bad, but at least Frisk had expected it. What really hurt was when the group moved off and the girl said to her friends, “Oh my God, her hair! And did you see her eyes? She looks like a rabbit!”

The snickering felt like a scab being ripped off Frisk’s heart. “Geez, Mathilda,” another girl said quietly.

“Well, it’s true! They’re not supposed to be red! Is she cursed or something?” Laughter. “I’m serious! We all need to say extra prayers tonight!”

…

Would it have changed anything if Frisk had remembered that conversation? Soon after, the King visited and told her everything – how he had thought Chara was at least providing her with basic necessities, and he would be sure she never lacked for anything again – and when she worsened, they decided to remove her memories; the Mother Superior had repeated the most relevant facts about her father and her future education, and Frisk had accepted her new life.

As far as Frisk knew, the first time she met her best friend was soon afterward, when Mathilda switched places with someone to sit next to her at lunch. “Hello. You must be Frisk,” she said, smiling. “Do you, um…”

Frisk watched her in puzzlement. Why was Mathilda Owen bothering to speak to her?

Mathilda fidgeted. “Never mind. I just wanted to say hello.” Why did she look so guilty? Her friends were watching, whispering anxiously to each other, as though something important was at stake. “Would you like to come and sit with us? I hate to see you all by yourself.”

As soon as she figured out that it wasn’t a cruel prank, and she really was making friends with the most beautiful and kind-hearted girl in the entire school, Frisk was too happy to question things further. It took her a long time to realize that everyone knew why the King had been here, and that everyone wanted his daughter to like them, especially Mathilda.

Even then, Frisk had decided not to care. As long as she could earn their friendship by being kind and helpful, did it really matter how it’d started? It wasn’t as if she was only worth something because of her father.

…It wasn’t.

…Finally.

She shook the ruby droplets from the kitchen knife, wondering idly why he was the only monster who ever bled, then kicked the dust aside. It was time to move on.

Frisk awoke in a rush of adrenaline and half-remembered nightmares. It was dark; she thought for a moment that she’d been buried alive, then realized that something huge and leathery was draped over her entire body. No golden twilight through the windows, no blood, no dust…

Ugh. Her mouth tasted like a warm sock, and her head throbbed the way it always did when she’d used too much magic. With great care, the human slithered out of her warm prison for a look around.

She was in Sans’ room, lying on his outgrown mattress, his overcoat loosely wrapped around her. The lamp was on, but he’d draped an old shirt over it to diffuse the light into a soft glow, giving the cold, messy space a warmer aspect; in fact, the golden haze reminded her of—

A barrier.

Chills swept through her, clearing her head of other thoughts like a blast of frigid air. It wasn’t just a nightmare: she had used a barrier against monsters inside the Underground. There was no coming back from that, no excusing or explaining it away.

Even if Toriel hadn’t really meant it at the time, her order to leave would probably become reality. Her friends might not entirely blame her for lashing out, but there was still no way they could trust her anymore—after she had hurt Sans like that, she’d be angry if he did trust her!

Frisk slowly eased herself back down inside the coat, as if she could hide from what she’d done. In her bitter, selfish regret, she didn’t even think of what this meant for her peace efforts; all she knew was that the Underground was the only place she’d ever really belonged – her birthplace – and she had lost any right to be here. Back to the humans, then, and her suffocating routine of work, exhaustion, and loneliness, secretly hoping that maybe, if she could be useful enough, someone would love her for more than her money or her pedigree and stay. If she could just be good enough—

Well, obviously, she couldn’t.

Frisk wasn’t going to cry again. She was tired of crying about things in general, and in this case, there was no possible way to make herself feel better. Why bother making her headache worse and her sleeves all soggy again? She just burrowed deeper into the huge leather coat, willing her mind to subside into comfortable nothingness; at least she was good at that.

It usually helped to have something small to focus on, so Frisk unhooked her itchy black choker and scratched her neck, flushing at the memory of flirting with Sans in front of everyone. Then came her boots, her stockings, and her earrings…

…which weren’t there. The priestess frowned, fingering her earlobes. She didn’t remember taking them out. Had they come off while she was asleep?

Wait a moment. Sans had put her here, hadn’t he? Her satchel was close by; Frisk stuck her arm out until she could pull it over and peek inside. Sure enough, not only had the boss monster removed her earrings for her, he’d left them atop her folded clothes, where they were both safe and easily found.

For some reason, that one little thing, that bit of care and attention, was the last straw. She took a deep breath, only for it to catch as a huge sob tore loose, partly muffled by his coat. Then another, and—

Sans was suddenly standing by the mattress. “Frisk!” He sat down hard. “Frisk, it’s okay, don’t—”

The human forgot that he was supposed to be scared of her. Moving on pure instinct, she flung the coat aside and launched herself up at him, letting his shirt absorb the first wave of tears. “Aww,” he murmured, folding his arms over her back and cradling her head in one massive palm. “C’mon, sweetheart, ya don’t hafta cry. Everythin’s fine now.”

Frisk pressed her face into his clavicle, furiously shaking her head. It was important to explain to him that nothing was fine and it was absolutely correct for her to be crying, but she was crying too hard to get the words out.

Sans gave a large, soft sigh, carrying her outward and back in. “It’s okay,” he repeated, his voice rumbling throughout her body. She shook her head again, and he ran the side of his finger down her back. “Yuh-huh, it is. Calm down.”

She didn’t want to calm down, but as he kept petting her, Frisk’s sobs slowed down a little. The boss monster made a sound deep in his chest, and she answered him with one that made him squeeze her tighter.

There was that magnetic feeling again, as though she was completely stuck to him. This time, though, she wasn’t frightened. And this time, she felt something else: another sensation was stealing over her, so slowly that she thought it might just be her imagination. It was similar to when he’d accidentally given her his magic, but this didn’t seem accidental, and it wasn’t exactly magic…

She’d felt it when he touched the barrier, and here it was again, washing over her in gentle waves: guilt and anger at himself for kicking off the whole incident, anxiety for her, and…well. He didn’t think she was worthless, or dangerous, or that she needed to do a single thing to deserve forgiveness. His hand didn’t even hurt anymore. …Much.

Even if it did, he still loved her.

Frisk shook her head again, but her sobs grew slower and weaker, gradually coming to a stop. The human leaned away long enough to sniff back a giant wad of snot, then sought a dry patch of his shirt to wipe her eyes. She wasn’t sure how he was doing this, but she wasn’t going to question it right now. “Hand?” she croaked.

Sans was quiet. He grunted, then held his palm up. “It ain’t that bad. Looks kinda like a frowny face. See?”

The priestess gulped, raising her own fingers to trace the pattern of deep swirls and grooves her magic had left in the living bones. “Can…” Frisk had to swallow a few more times before she could whisper, “Can you still move them?”

He paused. She felt a closing-off sort of twinge in her chest, as though he’d decided to stop sharing his feelings so he could fib: “Yeah, pretty much.” His metacarpals waggled back and forth, the smallest of them longer than her entire hand. She poked the base of his thumb and forefinger, where a good two or three inches of bone were fused together. “That doesn’t count,” he said stubbornly.

Frisk shuddered, turning to rest her cheek near the top of his sternum. “I’m so sorry.”

“I know.” He shifted uncomfortably. “Do ya wanna talk about it?”

“I don’t know,” she said, and winced as her head throbbed. “What time is it?”

“Last I checked, it was about seven o’clock,” he replied, petting her hair again. “I got up maybe half an hour ago an’ healed you, just in case.” Tap, tap. “How’s yer hangover?”

“…Not that bad, actually.” Frisk yawned. She’d missed being with him so much that it felt like a waste to just sleep, but it was hard to argue with the results. After all she’d had to drink last night, and then…the incident, she was amazed that she only had a headache and an icky mouth. “Thank you for that. It feels like I got much more than five or six hours.”

Sans chuckled, tapping her head again. “That’s ‘cause it’s seven in the evening, kitten. I think we slept about eighteen hours.”

Frisk’s eyes shot open. “Are you serious?” She leaned back enough to look him in the face. “Is that even possible? I—”

The words faded as their eyes met. Frisk figured she must look pretty awful, but he wasn’t much better. “Did I miss a spot?” he asked gruffly.

The human nodded, reaching up to brush at the dried red on the corners of his sockets. Sans leaned into her touch as she rubbed his cheekbone. “You’re supposed to be a big boy now,” she scolded the giant skeleton. “Do I need to—”

Memory hit her again like a fist. Sans jumped as Frisk suddenly yanked her hand away, trying to push herself off him. “Hey!” he protested. “What’re you—wouldja hold on a damn minute?!” More by reflex than design, his hand tightened around her back, keeping her in place. “It was an accident, goddammit! You’re not gonna do it again!”

“No, it wasn’t!” Frisk thumped his shoulder with her tiny fist. “You don’t understand!” Thump. “It wasn’t an accident! I was so angry, I wanted to keep everyone there, and I didn’t want to control it! I don’t know what would’ve happened if you hadn’t stopped me!”

Sans started. “That little fucker,” the skeleton whispered, as if he’d realized something very profound. “I know what it was, Frisk. That goddamn thing was right there! I saw it a minute before the whole name thing started! I dunno if it made me drop the letter so you’d freak out, or if it was plannin’ something else, but it wanted you to go nuts! That’s why—”

“No! It wasn’t!” Thump. Thump. “Are you even listening?! It was me! I did it on purpose!” Thump. “I was already…” Frisk shuddered, shaking her head again as more emotions boiled to the surface. “Do you know how scared I’ve been? We’re halfway through our visit, and I haven’t even talked to anyone about ending slavery! I’ve just been thinking of how to tell Asgore and Toriel about Chara, whether they’d believe me and if I’ve been selfish to keep back something that could help make peace—I had no idea their estrangement was because Asgore knew Chara was lying about me! And I missed you so much—” His arms tightened, and Frisk caught herself on another sob. “I don’t want to go, Sans!”

“No one’s makin’ you go anywhere!” He gave her a very light shake. “We all know you, Frisk! Ya think anyone’s sittin’ there thinkin’, ‘Welp, that was inevitable, let’s go ahead ‘n toss ‘er out now’? Or d’ya think we feel like shit ‘cause we kept pokin’ you till you couldn’t take it anymore?”

“How can you say that?” she demanded. “It doesn’t matter how badly I was provoked! I wouldn’t let you get away with attacking me just because you were angry!”

“Y’already did. Remember?” He stroked her back with one knuckle. “You coulda done anythin’ you wanted once I quit tryin’ ta murder you, and ya put me to bed ‘n fed me.”

…Damn it. “That’s not the same thing! I—”

“Frisk.” His phalange brushed her cheek. “Yer the one who’s not listenin’. No one is makin’ you leave. We’re gonna talk about it with everybody, there’s gonna be a big damn fight over who’s the most sorry, an’ we’re gonna figure out how to get you in to see Asgore. You’re gonna say whatever you need to about Chara and lay out yer big plan to make everything all better. If he doesn’t wanna do it, we’ll figure somethin’ else out before we leave.” His hand rested on her back like a shield. “And I’m gonna quit actin’ like all I hafta do is stay outta yer way an’ let you do everything. From now on, I want you ta tell me if somethin’s botherin’ you before ya go crazy.” Squeeze. “Any questions?”

Frisk thought about it as she sniffled. “Yes. Why couldn’t you have been this sweet when I gave you the stupid chessboard?”

He snorted. “Yer startin’ ta sound like me!” Pause. Shrug. “Short answer? It was pretty much the best thing I ever got, and I didn’t know what to say.”

“Whatever happened to ‘Thank you,’ Sans?” Thump. “I was really looking forward to you opening your gift, and you couldn’t wait to get away from it!”

“I know, I know!” His shoulders hunched again. “’m sorry! I…wanted ta jump you, but that wasn’t exactly an option. I didn’t know what else ta do!”

How could he make her want to hug and slap him so badly? “Well, putting that aside, do you plan to spend the rest of your life running off when you get embarrassed?”

“I wasn’t—” He caught himself and scowled. “I dunno. Just…sorry I was shitty about the chess stuff. It was amazing, and thank you a lot for it. Okay?”

He was so exasperatingly cute that Frisk had to bite her lip. “All right, then. You’re welcome. I…”

Rrrrgggrgrgl.

They both froze as her stomach rumbled. Frisk made a sheepish sound, and Sans chuckled. “Right. I was in the middle of makin’ a couple sandwiches when I came up.”

Frisk nodded. “Where’s Papyrus?” She wiped her eyes again. “Please don’t say he’s planning to make dinner.”

“Nope! I left a note on the door tellin’ him and Undyne ta stay at the inn tonight. I said we’d meet ‘em at the Ruins tomorrow morning.”

They were going to be alone tonight? The priestess felt light-headed, her cheeks burning. Sans must have been thinking the same thing, because she could’ve sworn his bones were getting warmer. “Time ta eat,” he mumbled, and a blink later, they were in the living room.

Still in his arms, Frisk turned her head to survey the kitchen table. He’d set out a loaf of bread, some cheese, tomatoes, and a few other things, obviously dropped when he’d heard her crying. Frisk thought about it, then snuggled back into Sans. There was food, and she was starving, but he was right here, too; she didn’t know which she wanted more at the moment.

Another rumble from her stomach settled the question. “Off ya go,” he said reluctantly, and Frisk sighed, moving her hand down to push free of their stuck-togetherness.

Sans suddenly made a strangled sound. Frisk didn’t understand it, or why his hand had flexed to avoid squashing her, until she looked down: she’d accidentally reached in between his ribs, pushing his shirt through and wrapping her fingers most of the way around his middle rib.

She’d never put her hands inside his ribcage, assuming it was basically a private part, and it seemed she was right. Just like that, his breathing had grown ragged, his bones trembling as her hand tightened. There was no misinterpreting his physical reaction; she could imagine how his instincts to comfort and protect her were deepening into much more raw emotion…

…because it was completely mutual. The young woman tugged lightly on his rib, and felt him shudder again. “Frisk,” he muttered. “Knock it off.”

Frisk moved just enough to brush her cheek against his jawbone. “What?” One finger slid along the bone toward his sternum. “This?”

Sans’ entire frame jerked. “Yes, that!” He caught her wrist in the curl of his index finger. “If I was a human, it’d be like stickin’ yer hand down my pants!”

“You don’t want me to?” she asked, very matter-of-fact.

Sans’ arm across her back was almost hurting her. Not tight enough, then. “Frisk,” he said warningly.

“I’m serious.” She licked her lips, feeling heat spread through her, chasing away the sorrow and anger. “My period’s over, the house is empty, and your magic doesn’t have any negativity at all right now.” Her free hand drifted toward his sternum. “We both need this, Sans. Don’t tell me you’re not interested.”

“I’m not sayin’ that!” To her bewilderment, he seized her with his magic and set her on the couch with a butt-tingling thump. “Just… I want you so bad, I’m about to lose my damn mind!” His entire skull was bright red. “But you’re still messed up from somethin’ that only happened ‘cause I was bein’ a dumbass, an’ I’m not gonna do it when you’re not thinkin’ straight! That would be fuckin’ wrong! Got it?” Despite himself, he stepped closer to touch her cheek. “’Sides, there’s somethin’ we’ve really gotta talk about first. The letter from yer dad is…”

He trailed off as her face twitched. “What?” he asked suspiciously.

“So, you…” Frisk knew this was not the time, but she couldn’t keep the words from bubbling up: “You’d be…fucking wrong?” Her body was trembling again, this time with the urge to giggle. “You already went the extra mile and figured out how to be my size. I’m pretty sure that means you can do it correctly now!”

“Frisk,” he said, scandalized, and covered his face as she snrrrked. “God damn it, woman, I’m tryin’ ta be serious here!”

She didn’t answer, at least not out loud. Sans took one look at her face and gave his scariest growl. “No.”

“But—”

“Frisk.”

“But are you—”

“Friiiiisk—”

A long pause. Frisk sighed in resignation, shrugging one shoulder.

Sans nodded. “Okay. Now, for real, Frisk, I’m—”

“—fucking serious?”

The dam broke: one moment, they were staring each other down, and then they burst into hysterical, snorting laughter. Frisk was sobbing again, but for the right reason, dammit; Sans let his forehead thunk on the floor, trying desperately to stop long enough to say something, only to end up laughing harder.

Eventually, out of sheer weakness, they had to slow down, and reached a point where they could almost breathe normally. “Shit,” rasped Sans, and wiped his eyes on his sleeves. “Oh my God, I love you.”

Frisk’s breath caught, her heart coming to a standstill. She sat up, watching the skeleton realize what he’d said. His sockets widened, but he looked straight at her, almost defiantly. “What?” There went the red again. He looked away…and back. “’s true,” he said, very quietly.

There was no telling what she might have done if Sans hadn’t pushed to his feet and waved his hand at the table. The bread knife started sawing away, cutting the loaf into sandwich slices and assembling the ingredients. “We need ta eat somethin’, an’ then I should go track yer letter down,” he mumbled, trying to rub the color off his skull. “I dunno if someone picked it up, or if it got left up there, or what. You can get some time to yerself—take a bath or somethin’.”

A bath sounded good, decided the one functional corner of her mind. She accepted the glass of water and mostly-tomato sandwich he wafted over to her a moment later, ignoring his muttered apologies for its crappiness. Nor did she pay much heed when he said something else, tapped a knuckle on her shoulder, and winked out of sight.

Alone for the first time in several days, Frisk finished her sandwich. She put the dishes in the sink, went upstairs, and ran a very hot bath, staring at the steam rising from the water. Then she went to Sans’ room, removed all her clothes, and lay down to wrap herself in his overcoat again. She hadn’t touched herself since before they left the castle, and she was even more worked up now than she’d been the night she made herself clear to Sans; being in his room, with the feeling of his bones and everything he’d said to her fresh in her mind, anticipating time to themselves at last—that was more than her body could handle. So…

It took so little time that the water was still hot when Frisk stumbled back into the bathroom. She left the door open a crack before she got in the tub, because…the steam…had to escape. Yes. The door needed to be open. For the steam.

Frisk knew exactly when Sans returned; to her disappointment, she heard an embarrassed mutter in the hall, and the door clicked shut. Just because she could, Frisk splashed louder, whistling his favorite song and letting the notes linger than she probably had to. She let the water out, also loudly, and kept humming as she dried herself and got dressed.

Sans was obviously on his guard when she came downstairs, which was wise: she was wearing his old clothes again, hands in the pockets of his zipped-up blue jacket, though she hadn’t had the nerve to put on any socks. He gave her one glance, reddened again, and turned his head, shoving the golden envelope at her. “Here.”

Frisk swallowed. “Thank you.” She studied the envelope for a moment, then tossed it on the couch and advanced on him. “I’m feeling much better now, so—”

“Nope!” Sans skipped away fast enough to make her yelp a little. He held up his good hand, as if to ward her off. “Dammit, Frisk, I mean it when I say I’m not gonna fuck you yet! Sit down and listen!”

Startled, the human sank onto the couch. Sans scratched the back of his head, collecting his thoughts. “Okay. So. Gaster gave me that thing, an’ he told me what’s in it.” He shut his eyes. “First thing: your King’s been talkin’ about you all over the place. Everyone—all the humans know Chara was yer mom.”

Frisk’s stomach lurched. “I see,” she murmured. Sans watched anxiously as she blew out a long breath. “Well, at least if I start throwing barriers at humans, it won’t frighten them.”

Sans chuckled. “Nope. They’d think it was neat,” he agreed.

The priestess thought it over, and decided that this particular problem could go back on the shelf for now. “Did someone see the letter and start spreading the word?”

“Yep. Gaster says yer dad’s pissed off, and that’s his way of bein’ passive-aggressive.” He indicated the envelope. “He fixed up a bunch of legal stuff with your name all over it.”

“‘Legal stuff’?” Frisk scowled. “Am I being arrested for theft?” She almost hoped so; that was a fight she’d enjoy winning. “If I am, I swear I will burn down the entire—”

“Nope. Just the opposite.” The skeleton took a deep, deep breath. “He…”

Watching his face, it suddenly clicked. “He wants to adopt me?” she asked crisply.

Blink. “…Uh.” Blink. “…yes?” Emphatic blink. “How the hell did you know?”

Her teeth clenched, all her muscles knotting at once, and then she let it go with a sigh. “He hinted at it a few times back when I was teaching Gaius magic. It’s been so long, I forgot all about it.” Mostly. “The poor boy isn’t going to live long enough to have his own heirs, and my older siblings are almost all gone, so… I was hoping His Majesty would name one of his more distant relatives, or pick another of his children.”

“Well, you’re the best he’s got.” Frisk flushed as Sans sat down against the opposite wall. “Is that a normal thing fer humans? You’re gettin’ old and yer official kid is kinda puny, so you grab a backup?”

Frisk crossed her legs, absently enjoying his reaction. “It’s uncommon, but it’s happened before in order to keep a particular bloodline going.” She picked up the envelope and broke the wax seal. “I’ll bet you a million dinar my father says he’s invited Luke and Mathilda back to the castle with their family. He went to school with Luke’s father, so he probably wants to get reacquainted before they announce our engagement.”

The boss monster watched in silence as she pulled out a sheaf of expensive papers, setting aside the copies of her ducal investiture and adoption decree. Frisk unfolded the handwritten letter, read it over carefully, and nodded. “You owe me a million dinar.”

He didn’t laugh. “See? If you end up havin’ my kid, it’s probably not gonna improve yer chances of bein’ Queen someday and gettin’ to set everything right for everyone.” Sans shrugged, eyes on the floor. “Not the kinda thing I can ask you to give up just so I can get laid.”

Warmth bloomed in her chest and rekindled in her middle, where she was still sensitive from her personal time upstairs. “I’m not giving anything up. I don’t want to be Queen,” she said calmly. “I want to become the humans’ ambassador to the monster race and set up an embassy somewhere close by—maybe at the farm on the river.” She set the papers aside and got to her feet, her entire body humming. “And if I do have a child, I’m going to love it and raise it, no matter how hard things get…even if it’s only half human.”

Sans’ eyes went blank. “…Frisk?”

The High Priestess’ heart was pounding so hard that she wondered if he could hear it as she crossed the room. She stopped in front of him, and held her hand out. “Will you stay with me, Sans?”

His hand came up to engulf hers and tug her against him, even as he shook his head. “Ya can’t decide somethin’ like that so quick,” Sans protested. Frisk leaned in just hard enough for him to feel her breasts through the thick blue jacket, and he shuddered. “I-I mean, believe me, I understand bein’ horny, but—”

Frisk reached up to rap on his cheekbone with her knuckles. “Excuse me, sir, but my mind has been made up since I opened the box.” She turned to press her lips to his phalanges. “Take me to your room, please.”

The light in his sockets dilated nearly all the way. Massive hands closed around her, and the world suddenly rushed by, depositing them by the door in his room. His magic pulled the mattress out to the center of the floor, straightening his overcoat in lieu of sheets or a blanket; the skeleton released her and glanced around for a moment, visibly regretting that they weren’t in a more romantic or at least clean environment. “Close yer eyes,” he mumbled.

Frisk complied, feeling and hearing him compress his huge frame down to human size. She opened her eyes just in time for Sans to pull her down to the mattress, setting her in his lap with her calves draped over his femurs. As before, he didn’t seem to care how his clothes hung off him; he simply yanked his sleeves back, then slipped his arm around her waist, the other running through her hair as he mouthed her neck.

That was a good start; the priestess wound her arms around him as Sans pulled her even closer. She made a delicate little sound as he slid his tongue into her mouth, his movements slow and gentle until she deliberately nipped him.

He nearly snarled at her, one hand gripping the small of her back and the other tangling in her hair. Frisk almost purred at the twinges in her scalp, letting him hold her in place as the kiss grew rougher and his fangs grazed her lip. She couldn’t believe how easily this was coming to her, how gratifying it was—all it took was a few little sighs, soft touches, and complete sexual abandon. Who knew?

It was more than a physical urge, though. She couldn’t even guess which of them needed this more, to be held and explored, valued, accepted—

The hand on her back had crept under her jacket, finding the hem of her shirt and then encountering bare skin. Frisk shivered pleasurably at the feel of bones gliding up her side, and at the disbelieving sound he made. “Holy shit,” breathed Sans. “You’re so soft.” His nasal ridge dropped back to the crook of her neck; he inhaled so deeply that she felt a rush of cold on her damp skin. “You smell amazing—” His tongue ran across her throat, his teeth sinking just hard enough to make her whimper and reach up to caress his skull. “I don’t…are ya really sure about this?”

Sighing inwardly, the priestess nuzzled the side of his vertebrae; he sucked in his breath as her tongue ran over the dry bone. Her legs shifted toward him, hips scooting closer as she guided his hands to her waist. Sans accepted the invitation, hitching up his baggy trousers and carefully grinding his pelvis into her so that she could feel his magic more directly.

It was one thing to have undergone a comprehensive scientific education and read dozens upon dozens of romance novels, and quite another to actually feel male parts…or magical facsimiles. The eternal, universal question sprang to mind: how was anything that size supposed to fit in her? That couldn’t be right. If she didn’t know better, she’d dismiss the whole idea as an elaborate prank, and childbirth as some kind of optical illusion. But…

Frisk ducked her head into his shoulder, face burning as his fingers combed through her hair. Luckily, Sans was oblivious. “’s not fair,” he murmured above her. “Everythin’ about you feels nice, ‘n I’m just a buncha gross bones.”

Frisk gave a disapproving snort—this, she could handle. “Here, give me your hand.” Ignoring her hot cheeks, she took his wrist and slid his hand up under her jacket, unable to suppress a tremor as his phalanges traced the underside of her breast. “If I thought you were ‘gross,’ would I be letting you do this?”

There was no telling what Sans thought: his powers of speech had degenerated into a series of incoherent sounds. To her irritation, he withdrew his hand and grabbed at the bottom of her jacket, desperate to pull it over her head…only to blink in confusion as Frisk snrked at him, leaning back and helpfully tapping the zipper.

As it turned out, the joke was on her. In another split-second, Sans had the jacket unzipped and the sleeves pulled straight down her arms, the whole thing tossed aside; before she knew what had happened, he was crushing her against him, his hands back under her white shirt, palms sweeping along her sides and up across her back—

In the heat of the moment, both of them had forgotten about her scars. Frisk tensed as his hands passed over the rough skin, and he stopped dead. “This okay?” he inquired after a moment, giving her a few experimental pets. “Doesn’t feel too weird, does it?”

The young woman shook her head, resting it on his shoulder and reminding herself that he’d already seen them. There was nothing to worry about or feel ashamed of. “You can touch it if you want. It doesn’t feel like much of anything anymore—the nerve endings are gone.”

Sans ground his teeth. “Are ya sure I can’t go kill that bitch?”

Purely on instinct, Frisk placed her slender fingers between his upper ribs, near his sternum; his eyes widened further as she pulled herself the rest of the way onto his bony, baggy-trousered lap. “Please don’t,” she said against his jaw. “I think we have better things to d—”

In one motion, Sans pulled her shirt up to her collarbone and hitched her forward to lay them both down on the mattress. With her face aflame and her heart galloping harder than ever, Frisk stayed still as he rose on one elbow to look her over, jaws parting to breathe more heavily; but to her surprise, when he reached down, all he did was rest his right palm on her sternum, where they could both feel her heartbeat reverberating through the disfigured bones.

Frisk gradually forget to be embarrassed, or cold, letting him see that she trusted him enough to stay exposed. Sans moved his thumb a little, and without thinking, she rested her hand on his, playing with the gaps between his joints. They were both content to stay that way for a few quiet moments, studying the contrast between her skin and his bones.

Soon, though, he had to lean down again to kiss her, and his hand turned to stroke her breast with the backs of his fingers. Frisk made a soft sound and tried to sit up to demand more; to her surprise, he shook his head and slung his femur across her waist, pinning her to the mattress. “Slow down, kitten,” he muttered. “I don’t wanna go nuts an’ hurt you by accident.”

That was cheating. She was already aroused enough; when she reached down to grab his hand, only to have her wrists corraled and pinned over her head with a trace of red magic, she couldn’t help moaning out loud.

Sans’ orange eyes were fully dilated now. He had sat up and partly turned aside, but couldn’t look away from her writhing and urgent noises. “What’d I just say?!” he snapped.

“I can’t help it!” Frisk squirmed again. “Let me go, and I’ll stop! Please!”

With unnatural speed, Sans released her and kicked off his trousers. His full weight flattened her to the mattress, and something pressed very distinctively into her stomach; Frisk tried to look down between their bodies, but his baggy shirt was blocking her view. Was it red like the rest of his magic, or—

His fingers caught her chin, making her look up at him. “Okay, kitten. You ready?” He let go long enough to hook his phalanges in the waistband of her black-and-white-striped pants, and rested his forehead on hers. “I…” He exhaled, his entire body trembling. “I’m just guessin’ on size. Went with somethin’ like this.” His tongue stuck out for a moment. “If it doesn’t work, then—”

“It’s all right, Sans.” Frisk leaned up to kiss his jaw, wiggling her hips to help him remove her last piece of clothing. “Go ahead.”

Sans nodded, taking in the view with his jaws still parted and his eyes burning, but he clearly couldn’t wait any longer. She let him arrange her arms around him, then run his hand over her waist and hips, rubbing her thighs for an appreciative moment before he nudged her legs open.

Either Sans had read up on this process, or the instincts Undyne had mentioned could adapt to human anatomy, because he didn’t even hesitate. He plucked the folds of his shirt out of the way and reached down, and Frisk jumped as something prodded her entrance. She’d gotten a couple of her fingers in there before, but as Sans moved forward into her, she couldn’t help wincing. The pressure quickly grew into discomfort as her body started giving way; she buried her face in Sans’ shirt, and he paused for a second, then leaned in—

Romance novels had absolutely lied to her. The pressure built into sharp, burning pain as he pushed further into her, and Frisk couldn’t hold back a little sob as he moved out, and back in. He shook his head; she tried to tell him it was all right, only to cry out as he sank the rest of the way inside. “God—‘m sorry, Frisk, just—” His hips moved back again, and he started to sit up.

Frisk latched onto his ribs again, legs squeezing his pelvis in the strangest, strongest determination she’d ever felt. She didn’t care if it hurt: he needed her, she needed him, and she’d be damned if she’d let it end yet! “Don’t stop,” she whispered, keenly aware of the effect her voice had on him. Just to be certain, she ran her finger over the back of his skull. “Please?”

There were no more words after that. The boss monster slammed into her again, drawing another near-sob from her. He snarled deep in his throat, hands trembling as they grasped the overcoat behind her head; with a huge effort, he drew out and pushed in more slowly, then stayed still for a moment. Frisk made the mistake of wriggling her hips to try to adjust to the feeling of fullness – of intrusion, really – and he swiftly jerked out and slammed in again.

That was enough for Frisk. She pulled clumsily at him with her legs, and he either took the hint or couldn’t hold back anymore: he snarled in his throat, movements faster and more erratic the closer he came. Frisk held on, ignoring the pain and focusing on the fierce exultation of watching him lose himself in her; when he started to slow down a little, she growled and bit his clavicle as hard as she could, determined to see him finish.

Sure enough, Sans groaned deep in his throat, ending on a snarl; his hips went once—twice—three times more, and his arms locked around her, his entire body shoving her into the mattress as hard as she’d wanted. Frisk let him ride it out for as long as he wanted, waiting till the tension in his limbs finally relaxed and he slumped into her.

Neither one spoke for several minutes. There was no need for him to pull out: she felt his magic vanish, and tried not to breathe too big a sigh of relief. Well, she couldn’t be disappointed in the lack of multiple orgasms or even much pleasure yet—how could she when Sans was lying in her arms, rubbing his face slowly into her neck as his breathing began to slow?

Frisk stroked his skull and shifted her weight where his leg was digging into her, and immediately regretted it as her entire lower half protested. She was going to have many bruises in the morning. They would just have to work on their technique, she thought, resting her cheek on his cranium.

Sans showed no signs of life besides his breathing for several minutes. She was starting to worry a little when he moved his head enough to say, “M’rm.”

The young woman blinked. “Beg pardon?”

He was silent for a long time. “Never mind. I’ll ask ya later.” Sans rose up on his elbow and shakily leaned in to lick her neck again. “Thank you,” he murmured.

There was so much behind it that Frisk didn’t know what to say. Instead, she reached up and pulled his head back down to her breasts, resting his cheekbone over her heart. It made her remember how he’d shared his feelings directly with her before, and what’d happen if he tried that in the middle of sex…

Frisk sighed, closing her eyes. That was another thing to put away for later, to worry about and/or look forward to when she got to it. For now, she closed her eyes, and waited for Sans to say something; then she peeked at him, and saw that she was wasting her time. He was already fast asleep.

#songfell

54 notes · View notes

duhragonball · 4 years

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Launch?

Give me a character and I will answer:

Why I like them: I think the main appeal to the character is that she doesn’t take any shit from anybody. The blue version of Launch is pretty passive, but she also knows that anyone who messes with her for too long is going to have to deal with the blonde version.

To go a little deeper, I think there’s an enigmatic quality to Launch that draws people in. We have no idea why she changes hair and personality when she sneezes, and we don’t know where she came from or what she was up to when she dropped out of the Dragon Ball story. This sort of ties into something I’ve always maintained about the Vegebul ship: the main fascination lies in how much we don’t know. The audience is left wanting answers, and has no choice but to invent those answers for themselves.

I decided to look for information on sneezing in Japanese culture, just to see if I could find some insight into the character. I had a hunch that there must be some figure of speech about a volatile person changing moods as often as they sneeze, or something like that. What I found instead was the superstition about a sneeze meaning that someone must be talking about you. I didn’t think this had anything to do with Launch, but then I found out the superstition goes a little deeper. If you sneeze once, then someone must be saying something nice about you, but if you sneeze twice, then someone’s saying something bad about you.

So that might be what Launch is based upon. When she sneezes, someone must be saying something nice about her, and she becomes nice in turn. But on the next sneeze, she turns bad, just as someone must be saying bad things about her. Really, though, she turns the whole superstition on its ear, because of all people, no one’s ever talking about her while she sneezes. They’re always watching her with breathless anticipation.

Anyway, I think it’s her lack of a coherent character arc that intrigues people. You can sort of piece something together, but nearly all of her appearances in the anime are filler scenes, so it’s almost a guarantee that you’ll be putting more thought into it than the writers. That scene where she’s working in a food truck could mean that she’s gotten her life in some kind of order, but with her, there’s really no telling.

Why I don’t: I find the lack of hard information about Launch frustrating at times. I feel like there’s some awesome throughline that I should be able to find that would define the character in some profound kind of way. Mark Waid could figure it out, I bet. I still need to read his run on Archie. He probably did some 4D-chess character study on Coach Kleats or something that would blow my mind. I’m sorry, this is supposed to be griping about Launch and instead I’m griping about how envious I am of Mark Waid. Uhhhh... I dunno, maybe she shouldn’t be stealing stuff all the time.

Favorite episode (scene if movie): I can’t think of anything better than the episode where she’s getting drunk over Tien’s death in the Saiyans Saga. It’s a great followup to their last encounter, where she wanted him to join her in robbing banks, and he wasn’t interested.

Death wasn’t that big a deal for TIen in the long run. He just ascended to the next plane and trained under King Kai, just like how he trained under Kami in the year leading up to the Saiyan invasion. But for Launch, it’s a big deal, because he’s finally gone somewhere she can’t follow. And at last, she begins to understand why Tien isn’t interested in stealing money.

And then... nothing. She shows up again at the end of the Kid Buu fight, giving zero indication as to what’s happened in between. What happened to her? You decide, because Mark Waid costs too much money to hire, and I sure got no clue.

Favorite season/movie: Probably the Tien Shinhan Saga by default, since her fascination with Tien is probably the biggest character development for her. And she figures into this weird glitch between the anime and the manga. See, the manga version of the 22nd Budokai is much shorter, so Launch never leaves the hospital after they take Yamcha there to deal with his broken leg. You don’t even see her until the final match, where she, Bulma, and Yamcha are listening to the play-by-play on the radio. But in the anime, the tournament is drawn out over a few days, and she watches all of Tien’s matches in person, and even attempts to murder Chiaotzu. So it’s a weird deal, which is perfect for Launch.

Favorite line: Probably the line where she explains what happens to her when she sneezes, since it’s the only concrete evidence that she’s aware of her double personalities. Blonde Launch sometimes goes “awww, no!” when she feels a sneeze coming on, but that could only mean that she hates sneezing, even without knowing what it means. But Blue Launch knows she has another self, which means the Blonde one must be aware of this as well.

Favorite outfit:

It gets no better than the black shirt and army surplus pants.

OTP: Tien. There’s so little we know about Launch, so I’m inclined to hang on for dear life to the one thing we do know, which is that she’s very interested in Tien.

Brotp: None. Launch is a very solitary character. She’s the wind.

Head Canon: Not really a headcanon, but a story idea that I couldn’t really work out, but I thought it might be interesting if Launch’s Launchness was like a physical condition that could be imparted upon other people. Like, Bulma gets it, and then she ends up alternating between robbing banks and standing around going “Oh my!” But I wasn’t sure I wanted to reduce the original Launch to that sort of explanation. “Oh, we know what causes this, and it’s something we can turn off.”

This may be why I struggle to come up with story ideas for Launch, because my impulse is to try to invent some neat and tidy explanation for Why She Is Like That, but doing such a thing would force me to choose one possibility and exclude any other, potentially better ideas.

Unpopular opinion: Toriyama forgot about her because there was really nowhere left to go with her at that point in the story. Once DBZ started, the story became less about Goku’s friends and more about Goku’s family, and Chi-Chi basically took Launch’s spot. She was introduced as a foil for Master Roshi, and then got a stint as Tien’s love interest, and then the series progressed to the point where Tien and Roshi were both afterthoughts, so of course Launch was going to become even more of an afterthought.

And this is okay, because this is what happens with supporting characters. Like I was saying, if she actually stuck around, and showed up in every “All-the-side-characters-watch-what’s-happening-on-TV” scene, I don’t think she’d be as interesting as she is with her long, mysterious disappearances.

A wish: I hope my next attempt to write Launch goes well.

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen: I don’t really have anything to put here.

5 words to best describe them: Enigma wrapped in a mystery.

My nickname for them: Ain’t got one.

#dragon ball #ask duhragonball #launch #lovelypurplefox

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deeeelightfuldee · 3 years

Text

Your ex taps you on the shoulder and says, “I still love you.” You say? ooooof. I don’t think i’d buy that. I hardly think people who DO show they have feelings for me are being truthful, so I doubt that.

Do you play video games? haven’t in some time, but I want to get back into it a little.

Do you spend a lot of time with family? oh heck yeah. I have a really great family.

Is your house more than two stories tall? nah, it’s the two stories with a basement.

Have you ever hit your significant other? Has he/she ever hit you? I will never raise my hands to another human being. I once dated someone who was a veteran and had severe ptsd. we were napping one time and he got aggressive. that wasn’t HIM though.

What makes you an attractive person? (Talk about your personality too!) physically, I suppose I have nice eyes and a decent smile. personality wise, I am warm, friendly, loving, supportive, sometimes funny, very loyal.

What color is your hairbrush/comb? depends which one I use. I have a pink one right now.

What snacks do you have available in your household atm? I honestly haven’t got a clue. I haven’t been let out of my room in 2 weeks.

Has anyone recently told you that they like you, or find you attractive? yes. it’s weird.

Are you attracted to the last person you Facebook messaged? DEF not. he has been asking me out since we worked together maybeeeee.. 8-9 years ago?

Do you care about anyone that doesn’t care about you? yes! I am trying to learn how to undo that. it’s not that I don’t want to care about him, but I know and can soooooooo clearly see that he doesn’t care anymore, and it is extremely emotionally draining to watch.

Was your last Facebook friend requests from a male or female? I wanna say female but idk

Which one of your relatives is most likely to embarrass you? scott

When was the last time you ate a bar of chocolate? couple days ago.

Do you play any games on Facebook? Nope.

What would you like to get a degree in? I have two degrees -- one in psych and one in SLP.

Do you wake up a lot in the middle of the night? ahahahaha yes. almost always wide awake from 3-6

Would you prefer to read a book, watch a movie or TV show, or play a video game? typically more in the movie/show or book mood.

Do you usually get popcorn or soda at the movie theater? Both. nothing like that buttery, salty goodness that obvs requires an enormous drink

What genre of films do you like the best? either make me EXTREMELY sad, or romantic.

How many bank accounts do you have? 2

Have you ever had the flu? Yeah.

What is your goal for the next few months? i have several. the only one that can/will be public right now, is to get my lungs back to functioning as they were.

Have you ever had some kind of sleep-disorder? How did it affect your life? yes. I have very bad breathing during sleep. I have had 11 sleep studies done, because my breathing will just stop randomly, which luckily my brain wakes me. it doesn’t really affect my like severely.. I function normally. but shoooooot, if I got normal levels of sleep i’d be a force to be reckoned with.

Have you ever had food poisoning before? Describe the experience. Yes. It was AWFUL. vomiting for 2 days straight. it was so gross.

Funny, charming, cute, romantic, smart - choose only 2 for the opposite sex. smart and romantic.

Have you ever let somebody use you? Why did you do it? hmm. I think there have been times where i’ve let people have more access to me than they should have had. or there have definitely been times I’ve been used in school groups. But honestly, I tend to be protective of myself. I stop when I feel enough is enough.

You can go back in time & change something in your mom’s past - what is it? I would want either Bill to not die, or for her to be spoiled incessantly by someone else.

Do you know anybody who is around the exact same size as you? Who? psh. no. my friends are all tiny which is just not fun.

Ever been to a haunted house? How scared were you? Yeah. i found it so fun.

Been on any websites today you wouldn’t want your parents to see? ahahahaha no.

Which is worse: dusting or mopping? mopping. i hate doing the floors.

Did you pull a senior prank? Not really advised when a homeschooler.

Did you graduate? Yes. that was a rough, rough day.

Have you ever been unfaithful in a serious relationship? Nope

What was the last song you listened to? i think it was Happier than Ever by billie eilish. the lyrics are ... woof.

Are you one of those lucky people with 20/20 vision? 20/12 -- the last time I had insurance anyway.

Is fashion one of your interests? honestly, if I had money, it would be. but it isnt right now.

Do you think you’ll eventually find that special someone? It’s getting harder and harder to believe that will be the case. I knowwwww I need to start dating, but every time I go to open up an app, I hesitate and chicken out. I just was so happy before.. its hard to think I could be able to offer anything to anyone right now.

Do you care what people think? veryyyyyy few people. I care about the thoughts of those I genuinely love and respect. However, I still ensure I’m protecting myself regardless.

Is acting something you enjoy? No.

What was the last thing you broke/sprained? I have a bum knee, so I sprain that from time to time. I last broke a finger.

Have you ever fought with a friend because of their boyfriend/girlfriend? Because of yours? ahahahaha yes. but years ago. never because of mine.

Has a stranger ever yelled at you for your language? No. I don’t cuss.

Whose house, other than yours and your families’, are you most comfortable at? probably either nathan’s or em’s.

Has any of your friends’ family ever yelled at you? alix’s family used to yell at me a lot for being fat. that used to mess me up.

Did you ever play a sport as a little kid? Did you enjoy it? soccer. no, i found the endless running to be unnecessary.

Did you ever watch the show Full House? yup

Is there a celebrity you are just DETERMINED to marry? no, thats so out-of-touch with reality

Have you ever burned someone’s picture? yes, i have.

What’s the longest hike you’ve ever been on? i think it was 8 hours. I hate hate hate hikes. But, thats because I have really weak lungs, so my doctor says it’s like lighting them on fire.

Would you ever get a lip tattoo? No.

Who is the first person of the opposite sex that pops into your head? kile

Do your parents smoke cigarettes? my mom hasn’t since a teenager. I think my dad does still. though, i dunno for certain.

What does one of your T-shirts have written on it? uhhhh, PTK honors society

Name a pet you definitely wouldn’t want. Any reptile or insect. <<<< same

Would you prefer your partner smaller or taller? Taller.

Do you enjoy going through old pictures? Yes. very much so.

Do you believe people when they say they don’t judge people? No, i respect people who are truthful saying they either try not to judge, or that they do judge despite their desire to stop.

What did you love the most about the town you grew up in? sooooooo much. it’s small town-y, quiet, safe, lots of trees, family close by.

What’s a movie you cried the hardest during? ps i love you will always shatter my heart.

What’s your favorite restaurant? buona or ashford

Is there a dessert you don’t like? im not wild about pastries.

What’s a book that you read because everyone else was reading it? hmmm maybe that one mrs. pettigrews home for peculiar children.

Underwater or outer space? i’m fascinated by both. typically more interested in the water.

Dogs or cats? both. all of them.

Kittens or puppies? kittens.

Bird watching or whale watching? whales!!!!!!!!

What was your best subject in school? in HS probably history. or science. in college, psych or neuro.

What was your worst subject in school? Math. always freakin’ math.

What is one thing you wish you knew in high school? Uhhh. hm. i don’t think anything. I liked my experience.

Who is your fashion icon? nada.

Diamonds or pearls? Both are nice. I love pearl stud earrings and I really want a simple, one pearl necklace. I am kinda ruined for diamonds for some time. My favorite rings and necklace were diamonds from kile and I just cant bring myself to wear those anymore.

What color dress did you wear to prom? pink

Honestly, are you jealous of someone right now? oh sure. I am envious of those with bangin’ bods. I’m envious of those who have great finances. I am envious of those who live life married to their love. I’m envious of people who see kile regularly. But there are difficulties that come with any of those situations.

Honestly, when was the last time you REALLY cried your heart out? not long ago. the whole crushing reality of losing kile just destroyed me. I’m OK now.

Do you need to return anyone’s phone call? ahahahahah. I just reject all calls.

Who are you closest to? My mom and nathan rn.

Have you ever had a bad concert experience? no

Are you currently sad about anything? several things have recently been really saddening, but I’m ok. Ill get thru it.

Have you had any form of exercise today? Its going to be some time before I’m cleared for that. I almost faint from taking a shower and I have to be on oxygen after doing the one flight of stairs.

Can you handle blood? doesn’t bother me at all.

Has any place hired you underage for a job? yes. I mean technically, I was legal to work in that I was 17, but the company didn’t want to hire younger than 18.

Have you ever carried a concealed weapon? not like in public, but at a house or gun range, yes.

Are you currently searching for a job? soon.

Does eating breakfast make you sick? i’m never ever ever hungry for it. I know i should, but its the worst. I don’t even like breakfast foods.

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exhaustedfander · 4 years

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NFWMB: Part Two

Previous Chapter

a03 link

Word Count: 2,300

Summary: Roman comes to the rescue, offering his much-needed aid. Afterward, he and Logan have a very emotional conversation.

“What in the world are you doing here, Logan?”

Logan flinches at the sound of Roman’s voice, not too far off. He’s here, thank god he’s here.

“And what do you need my help with. From the sounds of things, it was pretty –.” Roman stops dead in his tracks when he lays eyes on his twin bleeding profusely and unconscious, Logan hovering over him and sobbing.

“Oh- oh my god! What happened? Remus? R-Remus, hey,” Roman gasps, quickly rushing to their side and kneeling by his brother.

“Roman, you’ve – you’ve got to do something,” Logan says, still trying, in vain, to hold the piece of sleeve already so soaked in blood to Remus’s wound. “You need to get him out of here. I – I can’t do it, a-a-and –,” Logan pauses, wheezing for breath. Quickly, Roman pulls his sash off and tosses the blood-drenched piece of cloth away, holding the red garment to Remus’s side.

“Remus, can you hear me? Remus? Come – come on,” Roman begs, turning to Logan with panic wide in his eyes. “He isn’t answering. Logan, why isn’t he answering?!”

“He – he lost consciousness a few moments ago.” “What happened to him?”

“A bat,” Logan sniffles, watching as Roman tries to constrict to blood flow, “It – it swooped down, a-and picked him up and bit him. Please, he needs stitches, he needs help a-and we can’t give it to him here. Who- who knows what else might be lurking! The creature could come back.”

Roman snaps his fingers, and in an instant, they’re in the Common Room. It’s a blessing of some kind that none of the others are there to see the gruesome scene unfold. A table is conjured bellow Remus, as well as a good deal of medical supplies. Logan wouldn’t have known how to get out of the imagination, not on his own, but now Roman’s here. My god, he’s really here.

“His – his breathing,” Logan comments in horror, holding the sash to Remus’s gash as Roman fumbles around in the suddenly manifested medical bag. It’s so shallow, Remus looks a few breaths from, from – Logan can’t stop himself from thinking it, no matter how hard he tries. Certainly, a side can’t really die. It wouldn’t – it wouldn’t make any sense! Remus won’t die; Remus can’t die.

“Hey, no, don’t talk like that. He’s going to be fine. I’ve seen him in worse shape before, this – this is nothing,” Roman says, though they’re both painfully aware of the fact that it’s a blatant lie. A side has never been in such a state, plunging them into terrifying unknown territory.

“The creature came out of nowhere. It tried –,” Logan struggled to take a breath, “It tried to take him away.”

“No one’s taking anyone away,” Roman says, seriousness etched into his words. “This thorn isn’t my side isn’t going anyplace that easy."

Roman works with great precision, cleaning the injuries and beginning to stitch the wound at Remus’s side. He works with the practice of a medically trained doctor, and if Logan was in the midframe for it, he’d ask how the hell he knows how to stitch a wound so well. Instead, Logan cards a hand through Remus’s hair, soothingly despite the fact that the Intrusive Side is unconscious, his eyes scanning over his chest over and over, continuing to check for a sign of life.

He helps Roman where he can, even in the state that he’s in. Presses a damp cloth to Remus’s temple, administers pain medication, bandages the less pressing injuries. Patton walks in for a moment, panicking immediately. It takes everything that Logan has in him to express that things are fine, Remus will be fine, don’t worry, don’t tell anyone, not yet. It’s impressive, considering how much Logan is beginning to think that things will not be fine, that death is moments away from rearing its head and taking Remus away for good.

But, somehow, Roman manages to stitch the wound closed and take care of Remus’s other injuries to the best of his ability. Amazingly, there aren’t any broken bones, and Remus is still breathing.

Remus is placed in Logan’s bedroom, as his own is most likely far messier and less sterile than a condition he should be in, and because Logan insists. The moment that Remus is out of the woods, at least as far as they can tell, Logan expresses the fact that he will keep watch of the intrusive side until he awakens.

“I can, too,” Roman says, “You don’t need to be alone.”

“It’s fine,” Logan responds, amazed he’s gotten through a few moments without bursting into tears again, an intensity of emotion he is entirely unfamiliar with, “You’ve done an exceptional job here. You’ve – you’ve saved him, Roman. You should rest, I’ll stay.”

And Roman begins to insist that he should stay and that he’d be perfectly fine with it, but Logan ultimately shuts him down. Defeated, Roman slinks to his room with a heavy heart and exhausted mind, troubled sleep gracing him for a few hours as Logan stays put and sits, his eyes not leaving Remus for anything more than a blink of the eyes.

=+=

“You’re still up?” Logan tilts his head, glancing to see Roman standing in the doorway.

“What’re you doing awake? You haven’t been asleep for more than four hours.”

“And you haven’t slept at all,” Roman points out, stepping into the room and standing beside where Logan is sat. “It’s late, specs.”

“I’m aware.”

“He’s going to be okay,” Roman insists, manifesting a second chair and taking a seat beside his friend, “I promise. It… well, it might’ve been a close call. I don’t know, I still don’t know, if we can die, that is. It’s a wonder I haven’t found out myself, considering all my own close calls,” Roman laughs, though the sound lacks any humor. Logan doesn’t find it funny, either.

“I’d still like to make sure he’s okay,” Logan says, though exhaustion is achingly present in his voice. “I can’t leave him.”

“You’ll exhaust yourself to a point of shut-down, if you aren’t careful,” Roman says, speaking from experience. Logan pinches his temple, his eyes still trained on a sleeping-Remus.

“I don’t care. All that matters is that he's safe.” Silence hangs heavy between the two for a long moment before Roman speaks up, evidently intent on staying with Logan for a while.

“So… you and Remus, huh?”

“What about us?”

“You guys are, like, a thing, right?” Logan shakes his head.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Come on, Lo. I’ve seen you two. I’ve seen the way you look at each other.” The inflection in Roman’s voice is edging on romantic and Logan doesn’t care for that at all.

“We don’t “look at each other” in any way and I have absolutely no idea what you’re referring to,” Logan says tersely, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Logan…” Logan’s heart clenches in his chest. This isn’t a conversation he was intent on having. In fact, he was sure it was one he’d never have, yet it seems Roman has foiled that plan.

“I… care for Remus, very deeply. That's all. I don’t understand why you’re looking into it the way you are.” Roman sighs, the sound heavy with exhaustion and tension.

“I’m sorry.” Logan tilts his head, eyes still settled on Remus.

“What for?”

“For being such a dick to you lately,” Roman sighs, “You and Remus have been spending so much time together and… I dunno… I’ve been a royal prick, haven’t I?” Logan wants to say no, but he can’t entirely disagree. Roman has forfeited spending time with him a great deal lately, and he’s known it has to do with his friendship with Remus. Logan’s silence speaks volumes.

“I know I have. All because you’ve been hanging around my brother, I’ve been ignoring you and that… that wasn’t very princely of me. Jesus, I’m sorry, Logan. I’ve failed to even try to have a relationship with Remus for so long, and now I’ve let it hurt our friendship.” Roman exhales sharply, his shoulders sagging as he buries his face in his hands.

“I don’t hate him, you know. I know it must seem like I do, and maybe once I did… but I don’t hate Remus. I don’t really have anything to hate him for anymore, do I? We’re so different, he’s so much cruder, so much unlike me… but that isn’t grounds to hate a person, to hate a brother.

I’ve told myself for years that I don’t want to be anything like him but… he’s made you so happy, lately. I’ve seen you light up around him, specs, more than I’ve seen in a long time. My brother makes you happy, and god, we’ve been so rude to you lately.” Logan’s ears perk up at that, and for a moment, he finally turns to face Roman.

“We haven’t been listening to you, not enough. Virgil, and I. Even Patton, sometimes. We’ve pushed you aside… I’m so sorry, Logan. We all are. I – I promise we never meant to hurt you.”

Logan wishes he could relish in the feeling of finally being apologized too. He wishes that he could finally embrace some change and have the others listen to him a bit more; this should feel incredible. Except… Remus is lying in Logan’s bed, asleep and having just faced the icy brink of death. Logan can’t bring himself to focus on much other than the fact that Remus is still alive, despite all that’s occurred.

“It’s… it’s alright, Roman,” Logan manages to respond, his voice weak. It’s clear that isn’t the end of the conversation, not nearly, but now just isn’t the time. Logan’s eyes settle back onto Remus, tired but wary.

“He does,” Logan blurts suddenly after a long while of quiet, “Make me happy, I mean. I enjoy the time we spend together. The conversations we have fascinate me greatly, he’s – he’s nothing like what I imagined at first, and I enjoy that. Remus challenges me. He engages in inane experiments with me,” Logan chuckles lightly, amazed that he can find the humor in much of anything right now, “I’ll admit, sometimes our experiments are little more than ‘blowing shit up,’ as he might say. It’s illogical... but quite fun.”

“What were you guys doing in The Imagination?”

“He promised he’s show me the river of blood,” Logan says, the pain so terribly evident in his voice. Roman can’t help but smile at the mention of Remus's side of The Imagination.

“Oh, yes, he’s very proud of that. You don’t know how many of my creations of drown in that cursed thing!”

“When the creature dropped Remus…” Logan says, voice wavering, “And he lay, so still on the ground, the bat came towards us, a-as if to inflict more damage.”

“What did you do to get rid of it?” Roman asks, curiosity peaking.

“I picked up his Morning Star and started swinging,” Logan states, earning a gasp of surprise from the creative side.

“Wait, are you serious?”

“I am.” “Damn, pocket protector. I didn’t know I had it in you.” Logan sighs.

“Honestly... me neither.”

“He’s so quiet when he’s asleep,” Roman muses and Logan hums in response. “So much more peaceful than usual.” A beat. “It feels so wrong, doesn’t it?”

“Incredibly so.” Logan pauses lost in thought before something occurs to him. “Roman, how is it that you stitched up Remus’s wound with such tact?”

Roman bites his bottom lip, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, which is odd because Roman is very much not a sheepish person.

“Well, you know how it is.”

“I do not.” Roman lets out a sigh.

“I get hurt in The Imagination kind of a lot, okay?” Roman says, gesturing to the small faint scars that litter his face, the others that must litter his body invisible under his princely garb (minus a sash), “I mean, look at me, it’s not exactly a secret that I’m stupid and reckless sometimes.” Logan’s mouth thins into a frown.

“I didn’t call you stupid.”

“How’s about reckless?”

“Oh, undoubtedly so.” Roman laughs faintly at that, and it can’t help but bring out a small smile in Logan.

“Anyway, that’s why I’m good at doing stitches, I’m used to doctoring myself up. Done it enough times to get the hang of it. I bet if Remus hadn’t been so hurt, he could probably do it himself. He gets hurt nearly as much, if not more.”

“You two are so thoughtless when it comes to your well-being it’s positively infuriating,” Logan seethes, though there’s very little bite to his bark.

“And yet you loooove us anyway,” Roman says, and that can’t help but stir something in him. Had it been a few months ago, Logan would’ve insisted that he was incapable of emotions, and thus, enable to love. But that isn't a lie he can bring himself to believe anymore.

“I… I do,” Logan breaths out, and the raw vehemence of his tone must surprise Roman.

“Hey, Logan, it’s okay –.”

“I love him,” Logan admits, unsure of he’s just come to this conclusion or if it’s a truth he’s been keeping hidden from himself for some time. His breath hitches as he feels the tears return to his eyes, his vision blurring. “I love him, Roman. A-and he’s been so hurt, Roman I a-almost lost him.”

Logan gasps as he feels Roman’s arms around him, the embrace firm.

“I know,” Roman shushes, beginning to rub circles into Logan’s back as he sobs into his friend’s shoulder, past the point of caring how terribly unprofessional he’s been, “Shh, I know. It’s okay, Logan. He’s going to be just fine."

Logan nods against Roman’s shoulder, sobs still bubbling as he clings tight. Remus is going to be alright. Logan loves him, and he’s going to be alright.

=+=

Taglist:

@nadiestar

@unoriginalgayboyalex

#intrulogical #romantic intrulogical #angst #angst/fluff #hurt/comfort #Logan and Roman bonding over sadness #something I enjoy writing a bit too much if I'm honest #Remus Sanders #Logan Sanders #Roman Sanders #blood #blood tw #gore tw #exhaustedfander writes #exhaustedfander #injured!Remus

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sealers100 · 5 years

Text

A (brief) review of every Donald Sutherland movie (so far)

I’m not coping well with quarantine at all and no one else seems to be either (which makes me feel a bit better) So what started out of boredom back over christmas break has turned into a quest to find and watch every Donald Sutherland movie ever. Probably not my best idea since a lot of them are very old and hard to find and would need to be bought online (which isn't an option right now.) Don’t ask me why, this kinda just happened and I’m not gonna fight it. So stick around for an unprofessional review of a very professional actor’s long film career.

(if anyone has any suggestions or knows where to find more hmu)

M*A*S*H*

Ah talk about a movie that didn’t age well (but neither did Holiday Inn and we still watch that) I’m not here to bash on it for being problematic because apart from the way they treated Houlihan, I genuinely loved this movie. It had be rolling the whole time just like the show and I still catch myself whistling like Hawkeye all the time. Probably still like the show better and Alan Alda’s Hawkeye (sorry Donald) but its definitely been a go to when I’m having a rough day.

Kelly’s Heroes

I think this was the first movie of his I ever saw as a little girl and I remember being very confused. (since it didn’t match my dad’s military stories at all) so this ended up being the first one I went out of my way to hunt down and watch and sorry to Clint Eastwood but Donald stole this movie from literally everyone. He’s hilarious, he’s sexy, he steals the show and it’s definitely one of his more underrated movies (the movie itself is a bit long) which is a damn shame since he (literally) died filming this one. (if you don’t know the story, look it up its wild)

Alex in Wonderland

Wow, who knew he could be such a convincing asshole! At least he becomes aware of it by the end of the film but I just felt so lost by the end. Like ,what did I watch, what happens now? Not one of my favorites but definitely interesting and a sure product of the early 70s. Overall, he does have a lot of good scene (a scene with THE Federico Fellini) that are sometimes light-hearted, dumb, cute, irritating, and just...what? The relationship between him, his wife, and children is probably the only redeeming factor since its pretty accurate for how his actions strain his relationships. I am gonna be honest though, I only watched this one to see him as a long haired hippie 😂 (sorry).

Klute

Leave it to Jane Fonda to remind me why I’m bisexual (I wish she wasn’t always a prostitute) Although there was a lot more of her and a lot less of him, even though he is John Klute. I am an absolute sucker for those old black and white noir movies and this is no different. It leaves some feelings to be desired at times (Donald apparently felt the same way) but you can really tell there’s a fascinating chemistry between him and Jane (because there actually was) Overall the story was entertaining but the character’s themselves seemed somewhat drab. I wish we got to know more about them and had more scenes with more emotion apart from just the sex and love scenes. Oh well, it was still a pretty damn good movie and I’d definitely watch it again if I got the chance.

Lady Ice

Basically Magnum before Magnum was even a thing. Now just because a movie is bad doesn’t mean it can’t be entertaining. I love the whole Miami Vice vibe I get from this and again, huge fan of private investigators, detectives and dirty schemes. His acting might not be exemplary but I don’t even care. The movie is fun and not every movie has to be deep and meaningful. Nothing wrong with just watching a movie for the hell of it. And that moustache, it’s my kryptonite. 😆

Don’t Look Now

If you haven’t seen this movie, stop reading my bs and go watch it right now. (its free on crackle) This is such a good movie I could make a whole post on it alone. Donald and Julie Christie (I’m still not over her either) put so much into every scene, giving us such a beautiful relationship that’s been fraught with tragedy. Every scene is beautiful and eerie and enchanting Iloveitsomuch!!! I don’t wanna spoil too much because the ending turns everything on its head. I’m not sure if this is meant to be a horror movie but it really walks that uncanny valley with the whole setting of Venice in it’s off season, the dark corridors, creepy premonitions. I will spoil this, I love how for once, the man is the psychic instead of the woman, which is a trope that waaaaaay over done. AND THE SCANDAL! Okay sex scenes in movie isn't exactly scandalous but this one was surprisingly realistic (no they didn’t actually have sex) so everyone in the 70s pitched a hissy fit over it and I can’t understand why. It’s by far the most realistic and beautiful sex scene I’ve ever watch, hats off to Donald and Julie. God Bless Nicholas Roeg for this masterpiece, aaaaahhh just go watch it its so good!

Fellini’s Casanova

Alright but bear with me on this. I think I had a religious experience while watching this movie. I was overly exhausted and had my eye on it for a while said ‘fuck it let’s watch something weird.’ This what actually started by quarantine marathon (how appropriate) and I can safely say, I think this is the most beautiful, most grotesque, most enchantingly beautiful and yet dark and bizarre movies I’ve ever seen. Donald makes such a convincing 18t century venetian lover and they really went all out with his appearance, acting and the scenery of the whole movie. Everyone in the film seems to genuinely enjoyed everything they’re doing (which says a lot they do some crazy shit in this one) and the whole time, everything is erriley whimsical, almost like a fever dream (which is what this film might have been I dunno). And the fact it spans the entirety of Casanova’s life, from his highest point to his absolute lowest decent into squalor just proves that Fellini holds nothing back AT ALL. Again, no spoilers (I don’t really think I can spoil this film) but there’s just copious amounts of sex and its just plain strange but if you find it in your heart to give it a try, please do. If you’re not sure about it that’s fine definitely not for everyone. However I highly recommend Fellini’s other works. (go watch La Strada)

Invasion of the Bodysnatchers

Hahaha oh man I can’t tell you how many times I’ve seen this movie. My friends and I in college had a horror movie night and this one seriously freaked out my roommate (i’m so sorry). I love me some sci-fi (I run a star trek blog) and this not only gave me lots of Donald but also Leonard Nimoy, (along with a very young Jeff Goldblum) so yes, this is now one of my favorite sci-fi movies (I did a film analysis on it too). I don’t recommend watching it in quarantine unless you’re into freaking yourself about a global pandemic. I will say, this movie is an anomaly since I think it might be the only movie that is not only better than its remake, but also better than the book (which I also read) This one gives us Donald (and his moustache) playing of all things, a health inspector (I’m dying) whos put into some creepy scenarios of apocalyptic proportions. This is one of those horror movies that’s fun without being funny. It’s got plenty of drama and awkwardness between to characters while also reaching it’s cult classic status. All the actors in this film manage to give such a convincing performance that you can’t help but feel like you’re right there with the characters, which makes for a fun and terrifying ride. 10/10 would scare my roommate again.

The Great Train Robbery

Donald Sutherland AND Sean Connery? Sounds like a great pair right? Well they are, sort of. Okay this movie looks like a typical british drama, buuuuut I’m not so sure about this one. Donald is pretty great in this one and so is Sean, but I’m just very confused if it’s trying to be serious or funny? The plot itself makes sense and its pretty good but the execution is just...what? Oh well, Donald and Sean make an entertaining pair with their odd “train heist” I felt this movie would have done much better if it went for either one side or the other instead of jumping all over the place, and it played out much more like a soap opera. It’s not bad though but its not a favorite of mine.

Bear Island

Okay I’ve been pretty nice so far, but this...the only real redeeming part of this movie is Donald and his beard. Which is such a shame because I feel like this could have been SUCH a good movie. The story itself is really good and enthralling but somebody somewhere dropped the ball. No, they didn’t drop it. They threw it off a cliff. Nothing about this movie makes sense, most everyone’s acting is subpar, and I don’t blame them because the script was probably the main offender of this film. Even Donald’s acting is uncharacteristically bad. I know shoot me, criticized his acting. It’s just so strange to see what could have easily been a fantastic film. Someone send this to Philip Kaufman and ask for a remake because this one needs it.

Ordinary People

Oh God, this movie. This movie means so much to me. Again, watched it with my roommate, we sobbed like children and its now a must see in our group. The fact that Donald wasn’t even nominated for an oscar for this film is a travesty. A story like this is something that in a way I’ve lived myself. Everyone’s acting in this film is superb and as someone who would know, yes, all of this is very really and very heart wrenching to watch. I don’t mean to get sappy or anything, but I have been Calvin Jarrett, I (and I’m sure others) have been that mediator who eventually is broken by the two fighting forces. Watching his eventual collapse is so surreal and wow this movie really broke me in some spots. Uhg god this movie, I wanna cry just thinking about it. I’d totally watch it but I’ll just spend the whole time wanting to hug him.

Eye of the Needle

If any of you know me personally, you’ll know I’m absolutely terrified of needles, so this might not have been the best movie for me to watch, but I had no idea what I was getting myself into. This whole movie is actually pretty fantastic. For once, Donald plays a bad guy, but you can almost root for him (if he wasn’t a nazi) I felt so conflicted because while yes I wanted him to take her away from her horrible husband, hes a damn dirty Nazi, and we don’t stan. Of course, Donald’s character is extremely charming but I’m left wondering if his character really did have feelings for Kate Nelligan. I have a feeling that I could really run with this story. This one is a thrilling story with a thick plot that tears its characters apart. I can’t help but love it.

Crackers

Fight me, I thought it was funny. Not really but this is one of those “entertaining but not really good” movies. Donald’s character is...well, he reminds me a lot of most of my exes. He’s just down on his luck, he’s not a bad guy. Yeah that sums up how I feel about his character. However, the movie overall is pretty damn funny. At least it knows it’s a comedy and it even has a sweet(ish) ending. I will say its not great, but there is a good scene with Donald falling flat on his ass which was so worth the whole rest of the movie. This one is still on my quarantine go to for when I just wanna forget about life for a while.

Rosary Murders

So this little gem I kinda just watched on a whim thinking it would be some campy horror movie that was very pro-catholic and woooweee was I wrong. I loved this movie so much I ended up watching it twice, two nights in a row. It really was a thrilling movie with a plot thicker than pea soup, all while throwing some (slight) shade at the catholic church. This movie goes less for the horror side of things and more for the shock and drama and it does it well. Not to mention he makes one hell of a cute priest. I loved the hell out of this one and I’m glad i decided on this one the other night. I might even watch it again who knows.

Pride and Prejudice

Everyone in this movie is neurotic as hell except for Donald Sutherland and Keira Knightly. Sorry I was never a huge Jane Austen fan but I admire her ability to write hell of a good slow burn and that exactly what this is. Hell most of you know what this movie is about so I’m not gonna talk about it too much. Its one of those movies everyone else seems to have seen and I haven’t so mom and I sat down and watched it together. She just laughed as I sat there yelling at the TV, waiting for an exasperated Donald to come on. His final scene though, so sweet. I did like how the movie showed a father daughter relationship that wasn’t toxic (not like the last one) but I was kinda over the whole song and dance after a while. I’m sure most people think its a really good movie but I just don’t get it.

The Hunger Games (All of them)

As I understand it, this movie actually means a lot to Donald, as it does to a lot of people, and that he really enjoyed working with Jennifer Lawrence, so that’s nice. Yes I’ve seen all three (four) movies, read all the books and I couldn’t think of anyone else to better play Katniss Everdeen’s antithesis than someone like Donald. I feel like this is one of those roles that was just made for him. He was such a scary and venomous villain that played so well off of the main protagonist. Uhg I really do love the Hunger Games Series, it was a huge part of my childhood, I just hate how the fans destroy people who love the main villain, like many fandoms do (looking at you star trek). I wish I could just enjoy these movies in peace without everyone being so polarized on them.

Oh wow there’s definitely gonna be a part two but as of now, this is all I got. I’ve got a long way to go and (with the way things are looking here in the U.S.) I’ve got plenty of time to do so. I really do enjoy doing these kinds of things so if you want me to watch and ramble about any other movies (no, it doesn’t have to have Donald Sutherland) I’m gonna be in quarantine for a while, so let’s at least do something fun to pass the time. 😊

#Donald Sutherland #this brings me joy #Im gonna laugh if I actually watch all his movies #mash #hunger games #pride and prejudice #ordinary people #I'm not gonna tag every movie wed be here all day

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asras-eyelashes · 5 years

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Book 0: The Fool

Full AO3 Fic // Previous || Next

Chapter 2: Heart of the Cards

Not much time had passed since you first met Asra, but every chance you got, you find yourself wandering over to his rug where he read fortunes and sold masks he and his friend, Muriel, made. Your family hadn’t really studied divination, so it’s always fascinating to watch. Asra in turn has never tried potions; he knew a little about charms, but his knowledge was very basic.

“Hey,” Asra chirps, breaking the comfortable silence between the two of you. “Do you want me to teach you?”

“Teach me?”

“Yeah, tarot. It’s not that hard, especially for you - your magic is strong.”

Flustered with the direct compliment, your words tumble out of your mouth. “Wh-What do you mean? My mag-magic isn’t that great!”

“What are you talking about, yeah it is. I can feel it in your aura.” Faust even bobs her head, as if to agree. Oberon, who had since warmed up a bit to Faust after realizing she wasn’t going to eat him, also looks up encouragingly from his seat next to the snake.

Feeling a bit cornered, your tongue seems to trip on your words. “M-my aunt says other…wise…”

Asra’s lips purses into an irritated pout. “Your aunt isn’t that great, all she does is yell and scream.”

“That-that isn’t totally true…she teaches me magic…sometimes…” There is magic in making potions, and learning how to cool yourself in the humid Vesuvian summers…

“Well, you’re gonna learn either way. It’s fun!” Not waiting for a response, the young magician grabs his handmade tarot deck. Placing the deck in my hands, he simply says, “Shuffle ‘em.”

You look down at the deck he had given you. It radiates low levels of magic, which is not unpleasant, but certainly foreign. In the back of your mind, you hear a breath of a whisper. Meeting Asra’s eyes, he gives you a confident nod. Reciprocating, you shuffle then cut the deck.

Once you pick a pile, Asra instructs you to lay out the cards in a circular pattern. Once that’s done, he continues his gentle instructions.

“Close your eyes, and try to reach out to the card that calls to you.”

You do as he says, closing your eyes and concentrating your magic. It wasn’t unlike using magic to brew potions, but you are startled when the whisper returns. From shock, you open your eyes wide.

“I heard a voice,” you explain, glancing around at you to make sure no one was doing any funny business.

“What did it say?” Asra seems unworried…

But thinking back on it, you aren't sure what the voice said. You knew it was a voice, someone uttered words, but…had it been a foreign language? No, maybe it wasn’t even words…

“I…I don’t know.”

Still unperturbed, Asra brings your attention back to the cards again. “Maybe the voice is trying to help you?”

Maybe…

You close your eyes once again and reach out. Following where your magic leads you, your hand naturally floats to a card…

“Wheel of Fortune, reversed,” you hear Asra read the card you selected.

Opening your eyes, you stare at the image on the card, staring at the details of the wheel.

Most people when drawing this card focus on the word “Fortune”, or at least the ones who stop by Asra’s spot. But they seem to miss the point that the card symbolizes a force that is out of their hands. If upright, it’s a sign to enjoy good moments while you have them. But if reversed…

“Looks like luck isn’t on your side, huh?” Asra’s airy voice brings you back to your senses.

Out of all the cards you’ve seen people draw, the Wheel of Fortune card puzzles you the most. Whether upright or reversed, it seems like it basically says you can do nothing about external circumstances in your life.

You let out a huff, disgruntled. Asra’s laughter chimes in, surprising you.

“What’s so funny?” You put your hands on your hips, continuing to frown.

“You just seem so concerned.”

“Well, I dunno, the Wheel of Fortune card confuses me. If I can’t control anything, then what am I supposed to do about it?”

“It means that in life, there are cycles of good and bad,” Asra explains gently. “So just because you’ve been unlucky for a while doesn’t mean it’ll always be like that. Things will look up.” He flashes a kind smile.

Somewhat satisfied, you let his words simmer in your brain. While you hate that your parents are always abandoning you, it gives you the freedom to practice magic. You aren’t sure if you would have gotten so much experience if they aren’t always away. On the other hand, that meant spending the majority of your life with your “aunt”, who loved to yell at you when she could. But that did also mean meeting Asra…

“Maybe you’re right…” you mumble under your breath.

“OI! Yer time’s up!” The loud voice disrupts your thoughts. With a sigh, you get up, reaching out for Oberon, who swiftly climbs up to your shoulder.

When your aunt had discovered that you made friends with the street fortune teller, she was not pleased at all. “You shouldn’t be associating with scum on the street,” she had said, which hurt you. Asra is definitely not scum. He is most certainly a magician, or at least one in training. “You better not be slacking off in the back because of him,” she had threatened. “And yer lunch breaks are still the same! Just because you found a chummy face to talk to means nothing.”

You had silently nodded to her words, knowing better than to raise your voice against her. Unfortunately that hadn’t done anything to calm her down, but didn’t anger her further at least. But nowadays, it seemed like your aunt’s fuse was a bit shorter…

“I better get going,” you say apologetically, already feeling yourself withdraw into your meek persona.

It's Asra’s turn to frown. “Alright…”

You cast one glance back, as if to say sorry, before rushing back to the shop.

Opening the door, the mildew and must of the shop assaults your nose. You’d think after working here so often, you’d get used to it…

“Were you out with that fortune scammer again?” your aunt badgers, hands on her hip. Behind her, a fire heats a cauldron, its contents lazily filling the room with a dim green light.

“He’s not a scammer…” you mutter, wishing that had come out a bit more confidently.

“Pah, all divination is a scam. Ya just hurl some cards around and what? Remember what each card means and make some vague statements about it.” You’ve had this argument with your aunt several times, but every time she holds her opinions firm.

“But it is magic…” you counter weakly, berating yourself that you sounded so submissive.

“I’ll tell ya what’s magic - the fact that you can get anything done with that little voice of yers. Now get back to preppin’!”

Accepting another loss, your head droop as you walked over to the cabinet. Oberon gives you a sympathetic nuzzle. Hopefully this wouldn’t ruin the brew you’re about to make.

#asra #asra x mc #asra alnazar #the arcana #the arcana game #fanfiction #pre prologue #book 0 #the fool #ao3

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tumblunni · 5 years

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Random game idea that came to mind: clockwork man simulator

I dunno, i just got the general image in my head of a soft homey aesthetic equivelant of that terrible game about the androids. Itd be more like just a life-living game, like stuff like animal crossing or harvest moon. Just fully exploring the perspective of these creatures and the world that created them, rather than BOOM ACTION SETPIECES or whatever

I only have some scattered ideas for it tho, and not really any idea of a main plot or gameplay gimmick or 3 act structure or like.. Anything to take this from idea to game, lol.

SO ITS MISC IDEAS TIME

* more of an olden timey fantasy style instead of sci fi. Youre still an artificial person created to run errands for humans, but youre more of a combination of clockwork and magic. There's still an element of being made of inanimate object parts but there's also some glowy energy core or something. Possibly would be interesting if it was something unusual to use as a power source? Like i dunno, a bell or an acorn or a teacup or one of those rocks with the hole in it that sometimes wash up on beaches. Or just a glowy orb of Generically Defined Energy Substance, which flows through you like aesthetically pleasing glowy veins

* you're a service clockwork homunculus thingy, bought by a disabled person who needs help around the house. PERHAPS A SWEET OLD GRANDMA! Whatever i decide on (IT'LL PROBABLY BE THE GRANDMA), your owner is a kind person who sees you as part of the family and feels guilty using an android as they believe you are absolutely a real person and wish they could set you free. Unfortunately theyre kinda one of the people who needs androids the most, as they dont have any family who can help them. At the same time though, they are very old and quite resigned to nobody caring about them, plus theyre just a good person who'd put your life over their own. So i feel like the plot would literally start with this person trying to set you free and you are just like "i do npt understand the concept, that is not in my programming". Its become kind of a morning routine now to hear "youre free! Get out, dammit!" and have a brisk argument over breakfast that inevitably always ends with you refusing. Grandma's prpbably got so desperate they're resorting to tactics like trying to trick you into getting on the bus out of town or "if you dont leave im gonna hold my breath and i wont stop til i pass out". All inevitabley failing! So they just try and help you understand your sentience and become more independant, encouraging you to take free time every day and go around the town to enjoy yourself. Which is kinda a concept you dont understand yet, so its just like MISSION RECEIVED: WALK IN CIRCLE AROUND PERIMETER OF TOWN. And its kind of a hit and miss experience because the people in this town have never seen an android before- this magic is usually a thing for rich people and this proposed scheme of disability assistance androids is still in its test run. Some people are suspicious or hateful, but there are others who welcome you to the village and brighten up your day. Not just a world of 100% everyone assholes to make a melodramatic point delivered awfully through racist stereotypes.

* i think a good subplot with this disabled grandma would be to show her regaining her independance too. Like she starts off quite fatalistic and used to nobody caring about her, all this mobility aid stuff is new and she feels like its too complicated and she'll never get it, or its too expensive and she doesnt deserve it, or all the nonsense that ableist society drills into people. But with the support of her new friend and access to more tools to help take her life into her own hands, she starts regaining hope again! Like ironically she felt like her previous carers were all the kinds of awful things people expect these androids to be. Robotic, emotionless monsters who dont care about the person's feelings and comfort, and certainly not independance. She suffered from a lot of the same nightmares that androids do too: being forced into a rigid schedule, limited in her options, deprived of basic rights, being told how she's supposed to feel, etc. But to an android that all seems like an inefficient way to do things! My function is healing and human healing efficiency is decreased in this circumstance! I am incapable of ignoring data due to personal bias! Basically imagine MAGIC BAYMAX ok. Anyway this plot would progress with grandma regaining her smile and eventually itd be a super happy day when she's able to get her new wheelchair that she can wheel to the shops on her own without needing someone to push her. Itd be really sweet from the player's perspective to get used to saying goodbye to her every morning and then suddenly you see her wandering around the shops with everyone else and she can become a part of the vibrant town too. Im thinking give her more complex AI than all the other villagers even, like give her a more complicated set of actions and move routes and stuff like SHE IS EVERYWHERE and she is LOVING IT! Life is back where it belongs: in the hands of the person living it! And it also intensifies the message of android slavery not being necessary or moral or good. Like i mean here this lady benefitted from getting an android but literally all she needed was a friend, a healthcare professional who gave a shit, and affordable access to mobility aids. Humans could have done that if they werent lazy assholes! And this android deserves the right to the same uplifting independenceifying experience they helped this grandma have!!

* random idea: all the events you encounter on each daily walk are actually stored in your inventory as items. Memories of experiences, good or bad, become literally experience for you! They each affect stats in different ways because of what you learned from that moment. Maybe bad experiences give you combat abilities and good ones help with your daily life skills and development of personality? And its possible to crack or even shatter a memory, if new experiences end up clashing with it. Usually its just 'oh i learned the more advanced version of this skill through better understanding of why humans do it', but also traumatic memories damaging good ones, and good ones helping ease traumatic ones. And maybe you could solve puzzles and make friendships through using these memory items? Youre faced with a challenge and have to make the connections in your mind to figure out which past experience is relevant here. And becoming more talented at something would help narrow down the choices you get given? And being unskilled would do screwy stuff with the interface like putting the correct option far away near the bottom or mixing up the names and icons of each memory. (Dunno how i'd program that though!)

* Maybe character customization similar to Medabots? The games were so cool and ahead of their time, you get to collect hundreds of different robot base frames and then mix and match the parts to make your own cool aesthetic! Shame it was only used for fighting though, that could be cool in a more social game too! Like go out wearing different fashions to help befriend different people, but its more fun cos its ROBOT FASHIONS! 'hey grandma do u think fred will like this arm or this arm?' She fusses over you all excitedly cos you showing an interest in fashion is a good sign of developing free will! Though you still get stuck in logic loops of 'you should wear what you like best, honey' 'HUMAN OPINION IS OF HIGHER PRIORITY' ...god i think i just made this character so i can ramble Relateable Social Anxiety Moments BUT ROBOTS

* possible ideas for Memory Events you can find around town! Meeting a cute neighbour cat- a fascinating creature you were not programmed to deal with, as you're a hospital android who isnt even meant to leave one single room for your whole life. You get absolutely entranced by the confusing small carpet with legs, and spend all morning interrogating it on why it wishes to rub its face on you. Why is your motor overheating, tiny carpet? Human master, how do you troubleshoot this noise?

* Another idea! You get 'mission: count the steps on the stairs to town' popping out of nowhere, and at first you ignore it because this is an illogical directive that does not come from a human. But it keeps happening every time you go here!! You try finding new ways to get to town crossing through fields or forests or walking directly into the path of a horsedrawn carriage, but ALAS it seems the only efficient path is those curious curious steps! Only then do you finally realise the mystery command is coming from yourself! You're not used to this strange concept of just..wanting to do something, all by yourself. You talk to your human and she says that's 'natural curiosity', 'personality', 'free will'...things that seem impossible to understand. You ask her to take you back to the shop to get this fault fixed, but she says its good and you should try acting on it. But it'll serve no purpose!! BUT AAARGH I HAVE TO KEEP SEEING THOSE STEPS EVERYDAY!! Eventually you do count them and you find it makes you satisfied for no logical reason. And that was the end of that small crisis, but you'll forever be confused by the whole thing! The next week you're like "what if i organized all the blue things with the blue things" and youre intensely frustrated at yourself. Human grandma says this is a "taste for fashion" but you remind her that you do not have a tongue. (And then she gets you the robo parts catalog and you unlock customization. Yay!)

* Possible idea for a sad subplot! A new human visits the village and he seems very strange, sometimes seeming kind and other times being angry and standoffish. You think its a simple 'jerk with a heart of gold' story but the truth is a lot stranger! It turns out this stranger is actually an important bishop in disguise, and he has multiple androids acting as body doubles to protect him while he's on the road. Theyre supposed to just be empty husks who only know how to imitate, but they clearly have their own personalities! You're tasked with finding all these runaway androids and returning them to their master for a reward, leading to a goofy lil game of hide and seek with twelve of the same guy. But it starts to get a bit sad because they're all convinced theyre the real one, and whenever they stumble into holes in their memory they freak out. When they all see each other gathered together its an absolute despair explosion and theyre forced to face the truth. And you can help them bond together as brothers and develop their own individual identities, even helping them pick out their own new faces from your set of fashion roboparts. Sadly you cant keep them here for long because itd obviously be suspicious to have exactly twelve new people move into the town right when twelve bots went missing. So you get help from one of grandma's friends to send them off in a stagecoach to another town where they can find employment and start their own life disguised as humans. The asshole bishop obviously doesnt react well to his androids vanishing into the night, but he never thinks of blaming you because after all you're only an android and you could never choose to help others out of all that free will you dont have. He just berates you for being so incompetant as to fail his quest to find them, and you get your reward taken back. Oh no~ i am~ very ashamed~ i will go tell my human that my ocular circuits require recalibrating~ (internally: HAHA YEH FUCK U OLD MAN) Grandma is super proud of you!

And thats all i got so far

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khaelisfics · 6 years

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Short Soumate AU - the concept was “your soulmark is a reference to what your soulmate likes the most”, and I rather liked it!

Tagging @doctorroseprompts, in case this can fit into a prompt!

I hope you’ll like it! :-)

He had scoured every modern art museum, every ephemeral exhibition throughout the country, combed through thousands of websites about painting, drawing, sculpting, bought hundreds of magazines and books about the subject. No name, no face he had encountered had caused that spark he was desperately looking for.

He tossed his ticket in a nearby bin, annoyed and disappointed he hadn’t found her in that tedious expo in a dark corner of London. Listening to wrinkled man on the verge of falling asleep each time he stopped talking in that monotonous crow had put his patience to the test. Looking at depressing paintings about death and phantasmagorical creatures made by an artist who obviously didn’t know black and grey weren’t the only colours that existed hadn’t helped. Maybe it wasn’t a bad thing he hadn’t found her there, actually. He didn’t know what he would feel if his soulmate happened to be a deranged woman fascinated by necromancia and festering cadavers.

A liquid shiver rolled down his spine at the thought, and he hurried to take out his list of current exhibitions he needed to go to.

“Nope to Nighthorses 66, then,” he mumbled under his breath, crossing the name of the exhibition with the pencil he always kept in his pocket. “Next is… S.C.M. Just hope this doesn’t stand for super creepy monsters."

He shoved his quickly shortening list back into his pocket and headed for the nearest underground station. It was already quite late in the afternoon, and he knew he should call it a day, head back home and get a full night of sleep if he didn’t want to doze off over his desk the morning later. But he also knew the disappointment and frustration of not making any progress, the longing he felt to finally find her growing into some kind of unhealthy obsession only predicted long hours spent tossing and turning in his sheets without finding Morpheus’ comforting embrace.

He took a quick look at his watch, ignoring the soulmark on his arm as if it’d just been a cheap tattoo he would forever regret, and made his decision. He hopped out of the train a few stations later, didn’t look twice at the large mural on the wall he had learnt a few years back had been painted by a foreign young artist, and made his way up the stairs. He was getting tired to try and see her where she wasn’t. A sticker on lamp post with a cartoonish drawing. Crass tags in back alleys, elaborated frescos on iron curtains. Street traders who sold ridiculously expensive prints of artworks stolen on the Internet. Everywhere he looked, he was tempted to believe it was her, and every time, he was a tad more disillusioned when he found out it wasn’t.

His worn chucks squished on the wet pavement as he made his way to one of his favorite places. It was a cramped bookshop in the corner of an ever-deserted street he had discovered the first time he had moved in this part of the city, rather by accident than real intention, and he came back to it every week, some weeks every day. It wasn’t as much the books as the owner that always brought his steps back to that small shop that smelled of yellowed paper and dust. Rose, was her name. A young woman with honey-eyes and wheat-hair, full lips and round nose. He knew she was just his friend, but sometimes, he wished his soulmark could be a small pile of books, or a meaningful quote from her favorite author - not that odd-shaped moon that belonged in a Van Gogh painting. His soulmate was an artist, not a bookworm. Not the woman he had dreamt of so often he believed he must have broken a hundred rules and, though unwillingly, cheated on his real soulmate on several occasions. Not Rose. Never Rose.

The small bell chimed when he pushed the ancient door open and the sound of his steps died on the heavy carpet. She was nowhere in sight - probably in the cellar she called a storage room, or in the broom cupboard she called an office. She would eventually pop out, like she usually did whenever the bell rang. His feet took him to the only alley he was interested in, and he picked up an old encyclopedia that had lost a bit of its varnish. He had always wanted to buy this book, but it almost was a relic, and not only did it look like it, it was also worth it. He sifted through random pages, smiling at the centuries-old mathematical formulas and theorems that had long been replaced by more precise, and especially more valid ones.

“You should buy it before it’s gone.”

He hurried to slide the heavy book back in its space at the sound of her smiling voice and twirled on his feet to greet her with a smile of his own.

“Rose, hi, how…” he started before his mouth gaped open and his voice died in his throat.

He first noticed the dark blue apron she was wearing over her eternal oversized jumper. Then he spotted the pencil she had stuck behind an ear. And he finally understood the multicoloured stains dotting and streaking the apron were paint. That wasn’t right. Rose loved books. She was a bookseller. Not an artist. He would know if she were, after so much time spent sharing coffees and pointless conversations. So much time spent wishing she could be the one.

“Fine, if your question was how are you,” she giggled, wiping her hands on her apron so she could give his shoulder a friendly slap without harming his pinstriped jacket. “How are you?”

“I, uh, yeah, good, I suppose,” he nodded - he found his voice again when he managed to ame his heart hammering against his ribs. “What are you doing with all that equipment?”

“What does it look like I’m doing, John?” she taunted as she motioned for him to follow her through the maze of crammed corridors. “I was about to close, I didn’t think anyone would come so I just started working on a little something. D’you wanna sneak a peek?”

“You never told me you liked painting,” he said, almost reproachful.

“You never asked.”

She led him to the door that was plastered with a large sticker that read storage, offered him a shy smile and pushed the door open with a finger.

He couldn’t move. Instead of a dark, small room filled to the brim with rows of old books, he saw a bright, large space void of anything. Anything but paintings, hanging on the walls, haphazardly propped up against the walls. Colours bursting out of the canvas like fireworks, fiery landscapes and smooth still-lives, abstract shapes that made him feel so many things at once his heart flew to his throat, meticulous portraits of people she probably knew given the depth and the familiariaty that oozed from the faces. She was painter. A very talented painter. An artist. Rose was an artist.

“I wanted to show you the one I’m working on,” she said as she strutted towards her easel that was directed towards the window, unaware he was staring a her as if she’d just turned into one of the monsters he’d seen at the weird exhibition. “I think… You’re the expert, maybe you can tell me if I did it right?”

He could only nod even though he barely heard her words and watched, speechless and on the verge of collapsing under the weight of the unexpected revelation. Rose was an artist. She turned her easel towards him, and what he saw made his stomach twist into tight and uncomfortable knots.

“That’s a golden spiral,” he said, running a feverish hand through his spikes of hair. “Logarithmic spiral, it’s… Maths.”

“Yeah, I know,” she smiled, a quivering smile that lacked its usual enthusiasm. “Does it look… Dunno, accurate?”

“Accurate isn’t the first word that came to my mind,” he said softly, taking a few steps towards the painting to let his fingers hover over the snake of yellow and soft orange. “This looks beautiful, Rose. Why did you paint this?”

“‘Cause I found out…’ she started, sheepishly rocking on the ball of her feet. “What my soulmark is. I didn’t want to know, because I’ve always thought I would meet my soulmate whether I knew or not. But then… I mean, you came along and you made it really hard to resist the temptation.”

“What’s your soulmark, Rose? Please, show me.”

He held his breath as she slowly rolled her sleeve up her arm, stared at her pale skin covered with lines and lines of tiny numbers from her wrist to the crook of her elbow. He wanted to scream his joy, cry his relief, he wanted to hug her and kiss her and let his whole body and soul finally love her. But he simply blinked and swallowed it all down. She had never told him about her mark. She had never wanted him to know, and she probably had a hundred good reasons not to tell him.

“That’s the Fibonacci sequence,” he told her, unconsciously tugging on his own sleeve to make sure she wouldn’t see his mark. “It’s… My favorite sequence, actually.”

“I know,” she shrugged with an embarrassed twist of her lips. “I mean, I figured. You’ve bought several books about that sequence from me, you know. Doctor Smith, clever scientist and mathematician and all.”

He noticed the dejection in her voice, the way she gently kicked the foot of her easel and lowered her eyes to the carpet. He was hurt, deep and violent, that she didn’t seem to want any of what he had to offer, but that didn’t make him any less indifferent to her own pain. He slipped a finger under her chin to catch her eyes and give her a gentle look she didn’t want.

“Talk to me, Rose,” he said softly, fully cupping her cheek when she started to bow her head again. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I know you’ve got a bit of Starry Night on your arm,” she answered with a sharp nibble on her lip. “I know that… You would have found out I like painting, sooner or later.”

“Why wait until now, then?” he asked, befuddled by the tears that started to roll down her cheeks. “Rose, I don’t understand, what’s wrong?”

“Look at me, John,” she sighed, swatting his hand away from her face. “Look at me and tell me I’m the soulmate you’ve always wanted. Tell me I was made for you. Tell me you can ever love me. I don’t want you to think I’m the one is all. There has to be someone else for you, John.”

They matched. He didn’t understand why she refused to see it, refused to believe it, refused to accept she could be his soulmate. They matched. That’s all he understood. Her mark was a mathematical sequence. His mark was actually borrowed from a Van Gogh painting. They matched. And he had fallen for that woman so long ago, To know he had already learnt everything he loved about her, to know she was the one. That left no room for tears or unhappiness.

Despite her protests, he cupped bot her cheeks again and hurried to press a soft, lingering on her lips before she could draw back. Rose was an artist. Rose was the one.

“You’re the one I’ve always wanted,” he whispered, catching her lips between his again to steal her answer. “You were made for me, like I was made for you.”

“John…” she tried to complain, though she was slowly melting into his arms, little by little, a little more each time his hot breath caressed her chin and his lips danced against her own. “I’m not…”

“There’s no one else for me. You, just you. God, why did you have to wait so long, Rose, we’ve lost so much time. All that time spent looking for you when I had already found you. All that time spent pretending I didn’t love you when I could have shown you how much I do. “

“You do?” she breathed out, pulling away to see that truth in his eyes.

He only sat on her stool and pulled her sitting over his lap, his mouth hungrily looking for those lips he wanted to devour, his chest pressing hard against that body he wanted to touch, his heart reaching out for that shared loved he wanted to drown into. Rose wasn’t just an artist. She was his soulmate.

#ficandchips #doctorroseprompts #ten x rose #soulmate #au #john smith x rose tyler #first kiss #fluff #romance #<3

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spaceleviathan · 7 years

Text

Fic: It Blooms

Fandom: Batman

Summary: Harleen's got a date with 4 lucky contenders: Her psychiatrist, her best friend, her new beau, and the mysterious figure all in black.

Read on A03

Harleen’s appointment with her new psychiatrist, the kind but confused Dr Deller, went like this: Harley was fifteen minutes late, Deller was thirty, and together they realised that Harley was somehow functioning in at least one aspect of her life despite debilitating illness. Lucky for capitalism and all the lovely men and women in Arkham, Harley’s entire ability to function had been forcibly channelled towards her job.

She told Deller, “Well, it’s no hardship. I’m mentally ill, and so are the patients.” It sounded like it shouldn’t work, even as she said it, but truly there was no better way to connect than compare dysfunctions. She admitted, “I forget what red flags are sometimes. Self-harm’s an outlet, so let’s get it out! If something’s that bad, why do they have to keep it in?”

Which was why she was here, she told Deller. “Maybe I’m not functioning so great at work, either.”

Her main problem areas, work notwithstanding, included her home-life. “I forget, y’know. To do laundry, to cook, to consider my electricity bill. I’ll leave the lights on all night, then I gotta pay an arm an’ a leg, and it’s just stupid.”

“What are your relationships like?”

“Yeah, I guess I should talk to you about that one too,” because she’d always struggled; keeping people in her space was suffocating, and sometimes there were already too many noises in a one-person house.

Deller had been concerned about Harley’s lack of friends. “Oh, I got my dogs. They’re beautiful. Huge things, god knows what breed, not sure if they’re actually dogs, y’know? Rescued ‘em from a shelter a coupl’a years ago.”

“Harley, what do you want to talk about?”

“How about that guy in the news! The guy at the chemical plant? Apparently some poor bastard was there late and the Batman shoved him into a great big vat full of junk. Not that I think he did it, you’ve seen what the media is like with Batman, right? They hate him-“

“Why that story?”

“I dunno. They haven’t found a body yet. They said they should have at least found a scrap of him.”

“Do you not like thinking about your own problems, and instead focus on others?”

“Isn’t that everyone’s problem, doc? We delve into fantasy, we fixate on the news, we indulge ourselves in the messed up lives of celebrities, all because we don’t want to face our own messes? No, I don’t want to think about my diagnosis, ‘cos it’s never the same.”

“I’d like to work with you a big longer. Figure out what medication is more appropriate for your symptoms as they arise.”

“Wanna give me something that’ll help me to work on time?” she joked. “I’m on antipsychotics at the moment.”

“For schizophrenia, yes.”

“I’m not schizophrenic.”

“Why do you take the medication then?” Deller asked, and Harley shrugged.

“I’m hear things, sometimes. Can be a drip of a tap; like water torture, you know, drip drip drip, all the time. I think they help, then.”

Deller had nodded. Run through the standard tests, do you experience things that aren’t there, do you sometimes feel sad for no reason, and let Harley go an hour after she’d arrived.

“See ya next week?”

Harley switched on the news when she got home, hugged her monster dogs, Bud and Lou, and re-watched the story of the man who’d disappeared, seemingly due to the Batman.

“He wouldn’t,” she told her dogs, as she’d told anyone who would listen. “Bats is a good guy. He’s helping the crime rate.”

Harley would like him to help the crime rate, anyway. Working in Arkham, and with her own shortcomings, she’d decided against moving out of the Narrows. She hadn’t even bothered to move apartments from when she was a student dreaming of something better. After this many years, she figured if she hadn’t already been murdered by now she was probably in one of the safer neighbourhoods. She had her dogs who’d growl at the barest high wind anyway, so it wasn’t like anyone could sneak in.

Maybe it was wishful thinking, but she found herself further soothed by the idea there was a big ol’ bat flying around and scaring the bejeesus out of petty crooks. She’d give it to the madman, he certainly didn’t do anything by half.

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

At work, she had a steady stream of patients, and she made sure to see each at least every three days. A few needed daily therapy, and a few less were even making progress. It was hard to administer help to people who didn’t want it, and she was thankful she wasn’t the one making sure the patients had swallowed their medication.

The halls were gloomy, full of long echoes and far off screaming, and hid nothing from the doctors or the other patients. If Harley strained her ears, she reckoned she could hear the noise from the canteen on the other side of the building. She liked it here; she never felt alone. All she needed now was a couple of beds for her dogs, and she might as well move in.

Occasionally, if she’d get lost in a research paper or fascinated by the medical and criminal history of a new patient, Harley found herself walking alone in the dark. There was little point having a car in the Narrows, which were too densely packed together and difficult to navigate by foot, never mind with a great honking vehicle. Also, there was no safe place to put it when you weren’t using it, so ultimately Harley kept a pair of flats on hand and trekked to and from the hospital. This was not always the safest idea.

Harley would tell her psychiatrist, who would worry about a trauma Harley refused to acknowledge, that she had been cornered by some grinning idiot, and threatened with a knife. They’d managed to catch her neck, which she’d start to joke was a ‘shaving accident’, before the Batman had grabbed him by the collar and hoisted him up and out of sight, straight over the rooftops of the Narrow’s tall buildings. Harley had been left, gaping and bleeding, alone in the street, which was, she considered, marginally better than not-alone with a maybe-murderer, but less better than not-alone with the Batman. Deller privately thought alone was better than either of them.

Harley got home with the help of a man with dark hair and green eyes, who pressed his thumb on her wound and asked her if she was ok.

“Just completely petrified,” she answered with a smile. She smiled back, concerned, a little startled. Harley was used to that last one, less used to the former. She told him what happened as she clutched his arm and kept on refusing to call any sort of authority, or take a visit to Gotham General. “It’s just a scratch, I went to medical school. I can probably handle it.”

“What about shock?”

“Nothing some good hard liquor won’t handle.”

“I don’t think-“ but upon her insistence he had left her to it, giving her a number, telling her to call if she needed anything.

Harley called Pamela, instead. Got three words out before Pamela hung up, not before snapping, "I'm working, Harley. I'll call you back." Harley waited. Pamela called back in just under a minute.

“You should stop just hanging up on me, just ‘cos it’s me,” she complained. “What if I have something important to say?”

“What do you mean you got stabbed?” Pamela demanded.

“Yeah, exactly! I got backed into an alley. It’s not like its serious, but it smarts something awful.”

“A stabbing isn’t serious?”

“Well maybe stab is a slight exaggeration.”

Pamela had grilled her for details, before sighing and telling Harley that she was a complete buffoon. “I know that,” Harley replied. Pamela hung up again soon after, sighing about Harley wasting her time, but the fact she’d been even a little bit concerned made Harley smile. Pamela was a hard cookie to crack, but inside she was made of delicious gooey stuff.

She ended up leaving late again the next day, but had since had time to process. She felt okay, despite co-workers offering to help her get back or telling her that she had to leave before sunset. She probably wound up waiting until all the working streetlights turned on out of spite. She wasn’t going to examine it too closely.

What she ended up fixating on, instead, was the fact that Batman had saved her last night. And Batman, being the reliable sort of nightmare creature that she had always known he was, would do it again.

She found herself home safely that night, through luck rather than any caution on her part, just to find a gentleman waiting at her door, with his green eyes and dark hair, and a startled expression.

“Oh! I- I, uh, I haven’t been here waiting for you- I just thought, I just-“

She thought it was sweet, because he was biting his lip and looking mortified at his own actions, and she found herself forgiving him for showing up unexpectedly at the door of a complete stranger. “You wanna come in for a drink?” She offered. “Not the hard liquor, that’s reserved for nights when I gotta be saved by a man in a bat costume.”

“That’s alright, you can keep it,” he said, but did come in for coffee.

“Let the Batman guide you safely home,” she told him when he was ready to leave a couple of nice, if slightly stuttered, conversations down the line. His name was Jim, and Harley liked her new friend. “If you wanna come over, ring me next time!” She called after him.

He yelled back, “I don’t have your number!” before disappearing into the Gotham fog.

“Shit.” She said to herself. Texted, shit, my bad, to his phone.

Use your brain, Harleen, he replied. Can’t ring you if I don’t have your number.

Maybe I’ll keep it secret, keep some mystery about me.

JUST GIVE ME YOUR NUMBER HARLEEN.

She left a message all about him on Pamela’s voicemail that night, since this time Pamela only let her get as far as, “Hello!”

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

There was news that the Batman was fighting supervillains; insane folk with red masks, or exploding umbrellas, or creeping vines. Harley loved watching the news, rewarding herself for getting up early by the Batman’s latest night-time exploits, laughing at the outrageous events that had befallen Gotham.

He’s not helping crime, said the critical newscasters who had never felt unsafe in their own homes, during their commute, at their jobs. He’s escalating!

Good morning, Jim would message her at eight, like clockwork.

“He helps me,” she told Dr Deller, like she’d told Pamela when Harley had made the perilous train journey into the city centre to accost her botanist friend during her lunch break. “He’s organised and neat and stuff. He won’t let me sleep when I ignore my alarms. He keeps ringing me ‘til he knows I’m up. I’ve been eating breakfast before I leave for work.”

“That’s good,” Deller said, in a tone that almost made it not sound like a question. Harley beamed at her, a congratulations on finding the correct answer. “I’m glad you’re reaching out to new people.”

“Couldn’t do it without ya, doc.”

“How is your psychiatrist?” Pamela asked when she’d gotten bored of the Jim talk, which was approximately three minutes after Harley had started.

“She’s ok. Not as good as me.”

“Any prognosis on the diagnosis?”

“It’s getting there. I think she thinks I’m bipolar.”

“You’ve been saying that for years,” Pamela pointed out. Harley shrugged.

“I don’t have many depressive episodes, it’s not my fault that they look at the available evidence and come to the most likely conclusions.”

“So this one’s an idiot then, if she thinks you’re bipolar, the way that you, who are also a psychiatrist, think you are. You, who deal with a higher rate of bipolar disorders than they do, because they’re more concerned with snivelling middle-aged middle-class people in the middle of a mid-life crisis.”

“You wanna say that three times fast?” Harley snorted. “Anyway, no, I don’t know if I’m bipolar, I just thought I was way back when, and I know I’m not schizophrenic, and only time will tell if my psychiatrist is an idiot.”

“You shouldn’t have to wait to get the right kind of help, Harley.”

“It doesn’t work like that, kid,” she said, glancing at the time and kissing Pamela on the forehead. “I’m gonna miss my train.”

“You’ve been here 10 minutes!”

“Well, maybe if you hadn’t wasted so much time in your stupid lab-“

“My lab is not-“

A lot of their conversations ended that way.

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

“Hi!” Harley exclaimed with delight, whilst the mugger next to her babbled incoherently and began to back away.

“H-hey, stay back, man!” he said, emptying the clip at the ominous shadow that had taken up the alleyway and blubbing like a fish out of water when nothing hit. It made something electric run up Harley’s spine. Thrilling.

He scampered away, disarmed and terrified, whilst Batman turned his disapproving glare on Harley.

“Go home,” he ordered her, ready to pursue the pathetic attempt at a mugger, but Harley shouted him still, lashing out to grab at his arm.

“Whoa, no! Lemmi at least say thank you!”

“You’re welcome,” he said stiffly, gently prying her hand off of his glove.

“Are those your muscles?” she gaped, instead of the thousand more sensible questions she could have asked. It at least worked to make him pause, reassess her, and she would have resented being looked at like maybe she was the crazy one running around in a batsuit if not for the fact she had her hands all over his arm again. “Watch me home?” She asked, because the mugger was long gone, and was not worth the Batman’s time, besides.

His compromise, though he didn’t say much to argue except disappear onto the rooftops and leave her to scowl after him on the pavement, was to literally watch as she walked back to her apartment. He stalked along the miles of interconnected buildings, occasionally leaping between blocks smoothly, to which she’d politely applaud. On the way, she yelled up questions, she talked in the spaces where he didn’t answer, and she startled them both when she whirled around, convinced she’d heard the click of a gun, a verbal threat up against her ear. “Sorry, I just thought-“ she said.

“Are you okay?” the Batman asked her when they got to her front door, and she reminded him absurdly of Jim. She touched him again, couldn’t seem to help it, and he didn’t stop her. He was made of leather and metal, the barest hint of a face, the smallest glint of eyes amid the darkness. “Do you have locks?”

“I have dogs,” she answered, which he quickly discovered for himself. The monsters were already jumping at the window, equally excited that she’d come home and horrified by the appearance of yet another stranger.

“Locks are safer.”

“I dunno, you’ve not met my dogs.”

He frowned at their snarling faces through her lace curtains. He looked back to Harley with a delightfully unimpressed expression. She couldn’t seem to stop grinning.

“Harleen,” she offered to shake his hand. “Quinzel.”

“You’re a doctor at Arkham.” He stated.

She nodded eagerly. “You’re sending us a lot of new inmates. Maybe tone it down, a touch?”

“Many of these people need help, not prison bars.”

“And we need more staff to keep up,” she told him, but not without delight. “But thanks.”

“For what?”

She shrugged, turning to unlock the door and glancing back to see him gone. “Everything, I guess, you ridiculous bat,” she answered to the night, and knew the night would get the message back to him.

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

Lou was acting really weird. He wasn’t a shy pup, and he always bounded gleeful around the place, but he didn’t like Jim. That wasn’t unusual, because he didn’t much like anyone who wasn’t called Harley or Bud, but he’d shown improvement since Jim had moved in. And Jim had moved in because Jim had not liked being called in the middle of the night to be told that Harley had once again been attacked, this time with a gun; his blood pressure was definitely taking a turn for the worst, or so he told her.

He ended up ringing her at five o’clock each PM, telling her he was waiting outside, and if she didn’t want to get him stabbed she’d better finish up quick. He would eat dinner with her, and more often than not crash on her sofa, or curl up with her in bed, and eventually just stopped leaving. Bud avoided him, which he took little issue to, because Bud was even worse than Lou. Lou stopped barking when he saw Jim at the door, which was more progress than Harley had ever hoped for. Then she stopped seeing Lou almost completely.

Jim shrugged when Harley asked him, wondering if he’d ever seen anything like that in a dog before. “Our dogs were always quiet. Nothing like your crazy things.”

“Lou’s hiding,” she told him when she found her big, scary, strong monster mutt in the corner of the bathroom, under the table in the kitchen, in as much of her closet as he could fit in. She couldn’t drag him out with anything less than promises of walks and treats.

She forced them both out one evening, when Bud had started to copy Lou and sneak away into quiet dark places, and Harley was distinctly at the end of her patience with the both of them.

“Do not make me take you to the vet,” she warned them as they sniffed around the corners of seedier alleys. “’Cos I will, y’know, and that will not end well for anyone. Especially that poor vet.”

Her heart lightened, however, as the long walk seemed to make them bounce again. They were yipping at every stranger that passed, and she was so delighted to hear them that she didn’t bother to apologise, even when people started crossing the road and her insane puppies began to howl for absolutely no reason.

As soon as they were home, however, with Jim exactly where she’d left him, lounged on the sofa, engrossed in some hammer horror, they disappeared back to where she’d pulled them from, and her mood plummeted straight back down, and then further.

“What the hell is wrong with them?”

“Shh,” Jim replied.

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

The latest schmuck that Batman left on their front door, this time with a little note that said: For Dr Quinzel (which she told herself very sternly was irritating and not outrageously adorable), was a victim of a violent home. She found herself moved in a way that this same story, told unfortunately often in these hollow walls, had never driven her to. She had to cut the session short, citing that he was still very delicate and sore (Batman may have the right ideals, but with muscles like his he would never be soft-handed) and needed some rest. She had to bite down her own tears until she was alone, turning away from the door where the orderlies led the man down the corridor, and leaning her head against the cool glass for some sort of sensation that wasn’t her own whirling emotions.

“I don’t know why it got to me so much,” she confided in Dr Deller four days later. “I had to refer him to another doctor because I couldn’t handle it. I’ve seen a hundred cases of parents hitting their kids.”

“Maybe that’s one hundred too many,” Deller replied calmly, sympathetically. “There’s a tipping point for everything, Harleen.”

“Maybe this is depression. Maybe I’m depressed.”

“You’re not depressed-“

“Hey, you can’t tell me what I’m feeling.”

“You know what depression feels like, Harleen,” Deller told her, as if she didn’t already know. “Is there something else happening in your life? Perhaps your recent attacks have made you feel more aware of the violence towards others.”

“That’d suck,” Harley pondered. “I deal almost exclusively with violent people. I’d have to quit my job.”

“Maybe we should adjust your therapy, slightly.”

Pamela thought it was Jim’ fault. “The dogs don’t like him.” She said. “There’s something wrong with him.”

“The dogs don’t like anyone. They don’t like you either.”

“That’s reasonable, I don’t like them. But they’ve never hidden from you.”

“There’s nothing wrong with Jim,” Harley said decisively, gathering her things and preparing to huff away.

“If all you wanted a live-in alarm clock, you could have just asked!” Pamela called after her.

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

“Did you fall?” Deller asked, and Harley nodded, showing her the impressive bruise on her arm.

“Good, huh?”

“Fall off what?” Pamela asked, and didn’t seem interested in the answer. Asked instead, “Does the Batman know where you live?”

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

She hugged her dogs whenever she found their newest hiding spots, taking them out as often as she could, but they were quiet, and she was quiet, and she fell asleep sometimes, curled up on her bedroom floor with her precious babies on either side of her, throwing a blanket over them all as if it could hide them from the world.

She watched the news on silent with them late at night, early in the morning, following the Batman as he made his way across the city, saving the people who needed saving, keeping the streets quiet and clean.

She’d stopped her extended trips home in the dark, and never walked the pups after sunset. She hadn’t seen the Batman in a long time, and hoped he still remembered her. Prayed, sometimes, that he’d drop by for a coffee, peek in through her curtains at just the right time. The hero always won in the end.

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

“Help,” She said, “Pam, help me!”

Her phone was shattered against the wall as Jim yelled, WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING-

“Don’t!” she said, “I didn’t- I don’t know-“

He grabbed her by the hair, flung her across the room, and she thought she’d be lucky if she could emulate her mobile phone and shatter into a thousand pieces, because that’d be the end of it.

She was sobbing, loud and ugly, begging him to stop, and he was screaming that she shut the hell up, the neighbours are going to call the cops, IS THAT WHAT SHE WANTS, and she screamed when he raised his hand, only for it to land with a thick, resounding fleshy noise on something that was not her. Still silent, except a whine that Harley had never heard from her brave dogs, Lou had stepped in front of her and was staring solidly at Jim. Bud was backing away, had been the one to get hit first, and was stepping underneath Harley’s arm. She clung to her beautiful girl, and tried to grab at Lou’s collar, get him out of the way.

“Move!” Jim yelled, unapologetically, kicking the dog in just the right way, and Harley had already known, but couldn’t bear the sight of it as he lashed out at the only two creatures in this world that deserved nothing less.

“Stop it!” she screeched, high-pitched and horrified. “Get the fuck away from them!” She wrestled them away, pushing them behind her, struggling to her feet.

Jim was still lashing out at her dogs, who were doing nothing to defend themselves, whilst Harley started hitting his chest. “Back the fuck off! Get away from my dogs!”

He grabbed her again by the roots of her hair, dragging her towards the kitchen. “Here’s what I think of your fucking dogs,” he threatened, and she knew what he was going to do even before he reached for the firearm in the drawer. She screamed, kicked him at him and hit him again and again, but couldn’t stop him as he aimed the barrel at the protective pups. They had followed her, now starting to growl lowly, ready to jump to her defence. “Don’t! Please, don’t hurt them!”

She managed to grab him, bash his elbow into his face, and she screamed loud and heartbroken when a gunshot was followed by a high yelp. “You evil fuck!” He let go of her to cradle his own face, turned towards her when she scrambled away. She grabbed the first thing in reach, and slashed at his face with her biggest kitchen knife. Once she started, she couldn’t stop. “Get away! Don’t fucking touch my dogs!”

Eventually, the noises in the house stopped, and Jim was lying in a deep red pool. Harley had followed him down when he’d fallen, and she was sitting next to him now, breathing deep, looking up only when a hesitant nose touched her blood-drenched arm.

“Bud,” she choked, then looked up and saw Lou limping towards her, bleeding from his leg. She grabbed him, and he tried to resist, but she was strong with fear. It was barely a wound, a graze, and she flung her arm around them both, sobbing anew, relieved that they’d gotten through it, that they were all alive.

A shadow enveloped them, and Harley shot up to her feet, knife still in hand, prepared to defend the three of them anew. “Fuck!” she said instead, when it was just the Batman. “You scared the shit out of me. Make some noise, maybe?”

“What happened?” he asked, glancing between Harley and Jim, still on the floor, stiff and silent. There was a bullet-hole in her wall, a dropped gun half-way across the kitchen floor, and blood across three of her four walls. Her dogs were wild all of a sudden, and the Batman had to grab them by the collar, take them out of the room.

“He tried to kill my dogs!” She told him, equally as unhinged, surprised that the Batman didn’t lock her in the bedroom too. With Bud and Lou safe, though she could hear them pawing at the door, Harley felt herself let loose a breath. With it, came every ounce of rage she’d been saving up.

“That fucker there has been hitting my dogs longer than he’s been hitting me! He was smart, he was fucking careful not to do it where I could see. But I knew, I knew when he started on me. What sort of monster fucking hits dogs.”

“Harley,” the Batman said, then again louder, grabbing her shoulders and shaking some amount of sense into her crazed head. “Harley!”

“He was hitting my dogs! He tried to shoot my dog!”

“I know,” he said. “They’re safe now.”

“Yeah! Thank you!” she exclaimed loudly, angrily, realising belatedly that the words and the delivery were incongruent. She rethought her statement, deciding she agreed with what she’d said, and repeated softer, “Thanks.”

He shook his head, his hands still on her arms. She closed her eyes, took a couple of deep breaths, and wondered where he came from.

“There was an anonymous tip of a disturbance,” he told her. “I was heading your way and I heard the gunshot.”

“Fucker,” she said again. “He’s just lucky that Lou isn’t hurt any worse, cos then he’d be hurt worse.”

“Worse than what, Harley?” Batman was looking very intense, not that he wasn’t always intense-looking, and something about it managed to filter through Harley’s fury, make her startle.

“I,” she started, stopped, looked up into the Batman’s face. He had blue eyes, she could see in her florescent kitchen light. He had beautiful blue eyes, like cornflowers. She looked down, saw the blood she had smeared over his leather and metal outfit. “Oh, god.”

Pamela burst through the door then, yelling for Harley, yelling at Batman, making almost as much racket as the dogs behind the bedroom door, but quietened when she’d taken stock of the room, catalogued every feature, new and old, made a keen observation of every splatter of blood. Saw Harley lean into Batman’s chest, crying anew in absolute silence.

“Thank god.” She said.

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

Pamela leaped into immediately into action.

Harley hadn’t let go of the Batman, gripping onto his cape every time he tried to step away, unable to stand without him, and so he had to sit down with her when Pamela had pushed her blood-stained friend onto the sofa and gone to make tea. The dogs had been let out and were sat over Harley’s feet, as close as they could and starting to sleep.

“What are you going to do?” The red-head asked him promptly whilst handing out mugs. She had one hand on her hip, glaring him down whilst she sipped one of her own brews. Harley hugged it to her chest, savouring the warmth and the soothing smell. It was something green, and strange, and almost overwhelmed the smell of blood.

Batman, usually so cool in the face of criminal activity, seemed to have absolutely no clue what to do about this. A domestic crime, with a woman he’d protected before, a woman he should have protected more. Pamela pushed, “Are you going to arrest Harley?”

“You should,” Harley said into his beautiful, solid pectorals. “You definitely should. I should turn myself in. Shit, fuck, I gotta-“

“Sit your ass down,” Pamela ordered as Harley had tried to pick herself up, dragging her mug, her dogs and the Batman with her all at once. Pamela saved them all an undignified tangle of limbs when Harley didn’t disobey.

“So, what will it be?”

The Batman spent some time looking at Harley, and Harley tried to look back. She felt she should be horrified at herself, but there was a growing numbness that only allowed shame to bleed through.

“I’m sorry,” she told him with sincerity; not for what she had done, but for the position she’d put the Batman in. “I’m so sorry you couldn’t save us.”

“Because,” Pamela interrupted. “If you’re going to sit there being indecisive, I’m taking Harley home.” She kneeled down, and pried her friend’s sticky red fingers from the Batman’s cape one by one, letting Harley lean against her instead.

“Your plants will poison my dogs,” she told Pamela’s boobs, feeling Pamela sigh, run her fingers more thoroughly through her hair.

“I suppose then you’ll stab me too.”

“Pam-“

“I think I can handle you, Harleen. I can handle you too, you realise.” She waited for the Batman to reply, but he was leaving the house.

“Wait,” Harley tried, weakly, not expecting anything. She was so surprised when he listened that she almost forgot to say more. He was more patient than she took him for, and eventually even looked back at her. “Please don’t leave me.”

“I’ll be keeping an eye on you, doctor,” he warned, but it sounded more like a promise.

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

The unavoidable reality of the Narrows was that it had an unreasonably high crime-rate, which meant that when a young man was found stabbed and slashed three miles from Akham Asylum, the police hardly bothered to do more than file it away. There had been more maniacs with knifes lurking in shadows than they could shake a gun at, and whilst the Batman had been doing his best to round them up, some of them always slipped through the cracks.

“Probably got mugged on the way home by some escaped loony,” Officer Heiden said, as she called his loved ones. His girlfriend, hushing her barking dogs, had said softly, “Happens all the time around here.”

Wasn’t that just the truth. “Maybe get out of the Narrows for a while,” she told the girlfriend, Harleen. “There are some weirdos around.”

“I’ve got a friend,” Harleen replied, and it gave Heiden with a small measure of relief.

She ended the conversation with a gentle, “Stay safe,” and smiled when Harleen replied, “You too officer. Thank you, for all you’ve done for the city.”

“No problem, ma’am. We’ll get to the bottom of it.” They wouldn’t, there was too much mess left to clean up, the world spiralling into madness the more the Batman tried to tighten their control, but Harleen Quinzel didn’t know that, and never would if she was lucky.

#Batman #fic #spaceleviathan #harley quinn #WARNINGS THERE ARE WARNINGS

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anonymoustalks · 4 years

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It was difficult being vegetarian on dorm, i said i would return once i was done

(6-20-20) You both like conversation.

You: hi

Stranger: Hey

You: anything on your mind?

Stranger: Blank slate over here

Stranger: Very zen

Stranger: Tabula rasa

You: that's nice

You: I've been thinking about my self-esteem

Stranger: How high it is?

You: mhm right now it's kind of on the low side

Stranger: Ooof

Stranger: Everyone has those moments

You: so on omegle I often go to the #politics tag

You: and I often get called dumb

You: and I'm reflecting on that i think

Stranger: Talking politics online is a mistake

You: mhm ^^ yeah it's poor judgement

Stranger: Yeaaa

Stranger: How old are you?

You: 26

You: I like to find strongly opinionated people

You: and talk to them

You: because I want to understand them

Stranger: People who talk politics online arent here to come to an understanding

You: but I think in part through the way I talk, I end up getting called dumb a lot

You: mhm

Stranger: Welp, calling someone dumb isnt cool

You: yeah a lot of them are mean

You: but I want to know why they're angry

Stranger: Read books or articles

You: mhm I guess

Stranger: Not random internet weirdos opinions

You: I feel like I'm just skeptical when I read books/articles by professors or whichever about "white rage" or things like that

You: so I think it's valuable to talk to people from places where I've never been to

Stranger: People have trouble articulating thoughts and opinions, especially with topics that make them angry

You: mhm

You: I try to ask them about what their life is like

You: and things they care about aside from the hot button issues

Stranger: Truu

You: A lot of them are just really mean though

Stranger: Welcome to the internet

You: yeah

You: anyway enough about me

You: what do you normally talk about on omegle? ^^

Stranger: Oof, anything really

Stranger: Books, shows, hobbies

You: mhm

You: I like to talk about values

You: or like things that are important to you

You: kind of like if there is one thing in the world

You: that you would never give up

Stranger: No wonder you've had so many bad experiences

You: lol why?

Stranger: Lol

Stranger: Whats your values?

You: mhm, I think I value empathy

You: and just being kind

Stranger: I can see that

You: as for things I wouldn't give up...

You: I guess my individuality

You: (whatever that means)

You: sorry it's super abstract haha

Stranger: Lol, thats cool

Stranger: Values usually are

You: um, for physical things, I wouldn't want to give up the internet lol

Stranger: Is the internet physical?

You: fine lol, I guess that's abstract lol

Stranger: Lol

Stranger: You dont want to give up the server rooms and cables

You: lol

You: I'm not christian, but I find the concept of giving things up during lent fascinating

Stranger: What about ramadan you western centric shill

You: haha

You: I actually don't know anything about ramadan

Stranger: Ohhh

Stranger: I dont know a ton about it either tbh

You: I think I just remember people talking about fasting

Stranger: Mhmm

Stranger: They fast and avoid water during the day

You: mhm

You: I think lent interests me because I had a lot friends who would be like "I'm giving up chocolate"

You: or something random or specific

Stranger: Truue

You: it made me think about what I would give up, if I were to give something up

Stranger: Depends what the goal is right

Stranger: Whats the goal of lent?

You: mhm

You: umm

Stranger: Like am i trying to be closer to god?

You: (I don't know so I went to wikipedia lol)

Stranger: Trying to understand sacerfice

You: yes sacrifice

Stranger: Truu

Stranger: No idea what i would give up

You: mhmm

Stranger: Social media?

You: I hardly use social media haha

You: I went vegetarian for year and a half in college just because

Stranger: Oh nicee!

Stranger: That can be difficult

You: idk I didn't really have a sophisiticated reason for it

Stranger: I was vegetarian for four years

You: ohhh cool

You: why were you vegetarian?

Stranger: Ethical reasons

You: mhm

Stranger: I didnt like the meat supply chain and resources used for it

You: right

You: for me I had a bad break up and just spontaneously and randomly decided I didn't want to eat meat

Stranger: I'm the opposite of you, i stopped being vegetarian when i went to college

Stranger: Ohhh, yeah breakups suck

You: was there a reason why you stopped?

Stranger: It was difficult being vegetarian on dorm, i said i would return once i was done

You: ahh

Stranger: But i started getting really into fitness

Stranger: Hard to hit the macros with a vegetarian diet

You: right

Stranger: Why'd you stop being vegetarian?

You: mhm... I think I just stopped being vegetarian randomly

You: ...it's probably not very sophisticasted either

You: I've thought about it once or twice why I ended up vegetarian

Stranger: i feel like its appropriate, randomly stop what you randomly started

You: I guess I must have treated it like how ppl sometimes get a haircut after a breakup

You: like I think I wanted a different feeling to my life

Stranger: I didnt know that was a thing lol

You: ohh yeah like it's a stereotype

Stranger: I know about delete facebook and hit the gym

You: haha

Stranger: Didya get a fancy new doo?

You: no not really

Stranger: Rip, you had the perfect excuse to experiment

You: yeah it's true

You: I wanted to dye my hair in college

You: but never got the courage for it

You: and then towards the end, I was worried about jobs after graduating

Stranger: You play it real safe

You: yeah I do haha

You: are you risky?

Stranger: I dont think im risky exactly

Stranger: Just more than you lol

You: lol

You: can you give some examples?

Stranger: I have alot of extreme look changes

You: ohh

Stranger: Its fun

You: yeah it sounds like it would be

Stranger: And if it goes bad its fun to joke about

You: oh haha

You: I get self-conscious easily

Stranger: Yeah i get it

You: a lot of times I convince myself that a lot of peers secretly hate me

Stranger: Ooof, i've done that too

You: I think I need to be friendlier

Stranger: Also imposter syndrome

You: but I'm a huge introvert

Stranger: Mhmmm

You: and yeah imposter syndrome

Stranger: It can be hard to put yourself out there

Stranger: What did you go to college for?

You: biology

Stranger: fancy

You: it's like one of the most common majors lol

Stranger: Lol

Stranger: Did you like it?

You: mhm I liked it enough

Stranger: Thats dope

You: what about you?

Stranger: Finance and accounting

You: oh wow

Stranger: I was actually a biomed major before switching

You: ahh

Stranger: Hated itt

You: I know nothing about finance and accounting haha

Stranger: Especially labs

Stranger: Ughh

You: yeah labs are terrible

Stranger: "I know nothing about finance and accounting haha" Sometimes i feel that way too

You: oh my ^^

You: are you in that as a career right now?

Stranger: Yup yup

Stranger: Well right now im just doing contract work

You: mh so you're wealthy then? (jk jk)

Stranger: Was switching jobs when this shit went down

Stranger: Lol i wish

You: mhm

You: what exactly is contract work?

You: like I know contractors

You: but in terms of finance and accounting...?

Stranger: I do some tax services for clients of an accounting firm i used to work for

You: ahh

You: independent contractor?

Stranger: Yeaa

Stranger: What do you do?

You: ohhh does that count as self-employment?

You: I'm in grad school

You: ...for biology

Stranger: o lawd

Stranger: They got you in the grad trap eh

You: lol

You: haha

You: mhm yeah dunno when I'll be finished lol

Stranger: They almost got me too, but i was broke for too long

You: mhmm

Stranger: fuck you pay me

You: lol

Stranger: i joke, are you enjoying it?

You: yup, well, as much as I can

You: there's the typical stress and things

Stranger: Mhmm

Stranger: So its a masters?

You: phd

Stranger: ooooo

Stranger: You fell hard for it

You: yeah lol

Stranger: Lol, thats cool af

Stranger: Doctor stranger

You: lol I feel like I'm never going to graduate lol

Stranger: You got this

You: you're really supportive and nice (random)

Stranger: Lol thanks

Stranger: People usually say i have a bristly personality

You: really?

You: I think you have an active and engaging personality

You: but also very nice

Stranger: I like poking funnnnn

You: and the active personality gives the perception that you're really listening

You: which matters a lot

Stranger: I'm a good listener i feel like

You: mhm, you seem like one

Stranger: You're pretty chill too

You: thanks ^^

Stranger: Despite fighting politics online

You: lol I don't fightttt

Stranger: Despite trying to bridge the political divide online

You: that sounds terrible lol

Stranger: It is

Stranger: The internet kinda sucks with politics lol

You: mhm

You: I feel like it's hard to have deep conversations irl

Stranger: Depends

Stranger: Some people are more receptive than others

You: mhm true

Stranger: I get online its easier to be yourself, but its also easier to be an asshole

You: mhm true

You: I think I worry a lot about interpersonal relationships irl

Stranger: How so?

You: mhm, like there's a group dynamic I guess?

Stranger: Ohhh

Stranger: So where are you from?

Stranger: Did i ask that already?

You: and the there's work colleagues

You: nope

You: new england somewhere

Stranger: myseriousss

Stranger: Are you lost?

You: new england is small enough it could be like a state if you put it all together haha

Stranger: Go pats

Stranger: With that i exhausted my sports knowledge

You: lol I'm not very knowledgeable either

You: although we hold football watching parties at my house

Stranger: I know people hate the patriots

Stranger: Because they dont inflate their balls or something

You: huuh, see I have no idea what that means

Stranger: Not cool new england, inflate them please

You: lol

Stranger: Wow, you're worst than me

You: yup!

You: I'm also bad with tv shows, movies, and music

You: basically it's hopeless if you want to have a normal conversation with me

Stranger: Im listening to music right now lol

You: lol

Stranger: I love talking about all those topics

Stranger: But i can talk about anything tbh

You: I just don't know anything ^^

You: what do you listen to?

Stranger: Like right now or in general?

You: either

Stranger: Pick one so i can start

You: general!

Stranger: You got it

Stranger: I loveeee

Stranger: Folk music

Stranger: Blue grass

Stranger: R&B

Stranger: Motown

Stranger: Soul

Stranger: Rap

You: cool

Stranger: Thanks

You: I have no idea what blue grass is haha

Stranger: Should i ask what you listen to lol?

You: um the answer would be whatever youtube plays

Stranger: Wise

You: basically pop bc I don't know anything else lol

Stranger: Lol thats fine

Stranger: Pop is fun

You: where are you from?

Stranger: Canada

You: ohh cool

Stranger: Thanks

Stranger: Its pretty nice this time of year where im from

You: mhmm summer

Stranger: Yeaaa

You: I'm like looking up your genres lol

Stranger: Lol

Stranger: Want me to recommend a song?

You: yeah that would be nice

You: I found Wanderlust 🌲 - An Indie/Folk/Pop Playlist | Vol. I

You: because I guess I automatically go to playlists lol

Stranger: always alright- alabama shakes

Stranger: Lol, playlists are a good way to discover music imo

You: I often don't go back to figure out what songs are what though

You: this was my problem with the radio

You: I recognized songs

You: but had no idea who the artists or songs were

Stranger: I do that with albums when i listen to them cover to cover

Stranger: I never know the song names, just how they go

You: mhm

Stranger: So what area if your phd in?

Stranger: Is that too personal to ask?

You: immunology

Stranger: fancyy

You: it always sounds fancy, but I have no clue what I'm doing

Stranger: Give me some fire immunology facts

Stranger: Loool

Stranger: Ohh

You: uhhhhh

You: random facts uhh idk

Stranger: Lol its ok

You: lol kay haha

Stranger: I kinda put you on the spot

You: mhm it's fine, although I was racing in my head to find something that actually makes sense lol

Stranger: Sorry im so dumb : (

You: no, as in immunology seriously doesn't make sense

You: like it's basically jibberish

Stranger: Lol i get alot of it would go over my head, im just kidding

You: like CD45RA+ AB T cells

Stranger: BRAH

Stranger: Thats my favorite cell

You: lol

Stranger: I like how they

Stranger: Multiply

You: lol

Stranger: coolest ribosomes in the game

You: you're so chill

Stranger: I know

Stranger: My cell knowledge is sublime

You: lol

You: is there a reason why you like to come on omegle?

Stranger: Uhhh, i like talking to people

Stranger: So the quarantine kinda sucks for me

You: mhm

You: I forgot it was the quarantine

You: I was just thinking it's a friday night and you seem too cool for omegle on a friday haha

Stranger: Lolllll

Stranger: Trust me, im a massive dork

Stranger: Just a pretty social one

You: right

Stranger: Recommend me a song?

You: ohhhh so tough again

Stranger: Im not letting you off the hook this time

You: :c

Stranger: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

You: *goes to dig through youtube history*

Stranger: Lol fair enough

You: do links work on omegle?

You: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W0OX-a17Hfk

Stranger: idk

Stranger: Did you send one?

You: yeah I did

Stranger: Naww lol

Stranger: Just tell me title and artist

You: v=W0OX-a17Hfk

Stranger: That works too

You: it's entirely instrumental

You: idk most of the stuff I listen to is just background music

You: for when I'm doing something

Stranger: I feel that, i listen to stuff without lyrics when im working too

Stranger: I like the art work

You: but yeah, I don't have much of a sophisticated taste in music or anything

Stranger: Dont worry, no music degree on the wall here

Stranger: I just know if i like something or dont

You: mhm it feels like most people have a strong sense of what they like an dislike ^^

You: for me it's kind of uhh... blank haha

Stranger: Lol

Stranger: I'll listen to any genre if i like the song

Stranger: This musics chill, i like it

Stranger: Reminds me of harvest moon

Stranger: Used to play as a kid

You: ohh

You: I've never played

You: I did briefly play rune factory on an emulator

You: but otherwise yeah I don't have a long list of games either ^^

You: I think I'm kind of boring overall

Stranger: lol you're not boring

Stranger: I wouldnt be talking to you if you were

You: oh lol

You: thanks

Stranger: Noo problem

Stranger: I'm kinda glad i found someone around my age to talk to tbh

You: ohh I forgot that I told you my age lol

You: do you normally get ppl much younger?

Stranger: I dont go here often tbh

Stranger: But yeah, alot of young people

You: mhm

You: I feel like you're probably the most normal person I've gotten in a while

Stranger: Lol im glad

Stranger: What do you usually get?

You: mhm angry people

Stranger: Also the political tag probably skewed your sample

You: a lot of people trolling or just having fun some way

Stranger: I seriously dont get the fun in trying to upset people

You: yeah I've been trying to understand that too

Stranger: Modern bullying i guess

Stranger: idk

You: like it doesn't work to ask "why do you like to be mean"

You: so I will continue with my research!

Stranger: Lol plz dont for your own sake

You: lol

You: haha

Stranger: Put the scientific method to bed

You: lol

Stranger: Do you know reddit?

You: yup

Stranger: Ask me anything

You: the subreddit?

Stranger: Naw, im doing an ama

You: ohhh

Stranger: You're the only one attending

You: lol

You: okay, I hope you don't mind if I push the pedal then

You: what do you regret most?

You: (I ask heavy stuff often lol >.<)

Stranger: Loll

Stranger: I felt like i should have ended my last relationship sooner than i did

You: mhm why?

Stranger: I was just kinda hoping the problems would get resolved

Stranger: And that kinda lead me to hold on

You: what kind of problems?

Stranger: Drawing the line here lol, i dont wanna be sad all day

You: ahh okay sorry lol

You: yeah I'm really nosy

Stranger: Lol its okk, i just dont wanna dwell in it

You: how long ago did you break up?

Stranger: How about you, whats your biggest regret?

Stranger: Few months ago

You: ohh

You: (I hope you're okay)

Stranger: I'm getting there

You: for me...

You: I guess not asking for help when I needed it

You: I don't have many regrets though

Stranger: Mhmm

Stranger: I never asked for help growing up

You: mhm I'm the same

You: or at least, I'm still really bad at asking for help

Stranger: I didnt wanna bother people, kinda just dealt with it on my own

Stranger: Yeahhh, its hard

You: right

You: and like I have a stupid amount of useless pride for something not important

Stranger: Sometimes i just try to remember that people do want to help alot of the time

Stranger: Oh truue

You: mhm right

Stranger: I also dont like looking dumb lol

You: yeah haha

You: okay for the next AMA: Make a confession of some kind that you don't ordinarily tell people

You: (though I guess this isn't a question)

Stranger: More like a demand

You: lol

You: clearly I'm not in the habit of doing ama's

Stranger: So like im pretty healthy and take care of myself alot

Stranger: And i come across as super confident

Stranger: But im like pretty insecure about my looks

You: mhm

Stranger: Like im pretty critical to myself

You: yeah we're often our own worst critics, right?

Stranger: Yeahhh

Stranger: How about you?

You: ohh

You: umm, how bad do I want to go lol?

Stranger: Lol, your call

You: I think I use omegle to boost my ego. Like I'm not interested in hooking up with anyone, but when people express interest in me it boosts my ego and then I can ditch them

You: >.>

Stranger: Ooof

You: was that heavy one?

Stranger: Lol no, i get it

Stranger: Im just preparing to be disconnected on lol

You: ohh I don't usually dc at all haha

Stranger: Mhmmm

Stranger: Well i think you're pretty cool tbh, take these ego points

You: oh haha

You: idk I think I'm selfish in a lot of various ways

Stranger: I feel like being able to refelct on it is like a good way to begin to address it

Stranger: Some people lives their entire lives without realizing what drives what they do

You: mhm

You: next AMA: What's something you dream of doing?

Stranger: A thru hike

You: thru hike?

Stranger: Its like a long hike that takes weeks or months

You: ahh wow that seems cool

Stranger: It isss, ive been on multiple day hikes

You: mhm I want to do one!

Stranger: But a thru hike would be amazing

Stranger: You can tag along lol

You: I have no idea how you would prepare for one haha

You: lol

Stranger: Lol

Stranger: You know how some people randomly plan holidays or online shop

Stranger: Just to waste time

You: mhm

Stranger: I plan thru hikes and my gear and food list sometimes lol

Stranger: Its pretty dorky

You: I think it's cool

You: wait so for a multi-day hike, how is that planned?

You: like do you usually go with someone?

Stranger: Solo or people

Stranger: I started going solo because its kind of hard to get people to come along

You: what do you pack?

Stranger: And being alone in the wilderness is kind of amazing

You: mhmm

Stranger: Pack alottt of stuff lol

You: lol

Stranger: I subscribe to the ultralight philosophy of hiking

You: mhhhm

Stranger: Where you try to keep gear minimal and light

Stranger: So you can go long distances and bee less tired

You: right

You: what do you see as essential?

Stranger: Tent

Stranger: Sleeping bag or quilt

Stranger: you're so lucky you're american

Stranger: You have better access to gear than i do lol

Stranger: Sleeping pad

Stranger: Backpack

You: really? for some reason I feel like canada has the outdoorsy stereotype haha

Stranger: Its legit amazing here nature wise

Stranger: Just harder and more expensive to get some gear lol

You: mhm

You: how much water/food do you pack?

Stranger: 2000 cals a day usually

Stranger: and i keep filtration tablets on me

Stranger: So i can reup on water

You: mhmm do you usually reup water?

You: I can see water getting a lot

Stranger: Streams usually

You: to carry

Stranger: Dont carry a ton, just reup on water

You: mhm

Stranger: being in nature is fun

Stranger: It feels like a reset for the brain sometimes

You: right totally

You: so do you usually pick hikes with nearby streams/water?

Stranger: Well there are usually trails people do

Stranger: Some people plan their own using a topical map

Stranger: I dontt

You: ah

Stranger: Topographic*

Stranger: Idk what topical is

You: on the surface of something ^^

Stranger: Lol oh

You: I guess it would just make sense to go a visitors center and ask for recommendations

Stranger: Naww, i usually just research it online

Stranger: I rambled a ton my bad lol

You: oh not at all

Stranger: What's something you dream of doing?

You: mhm I want to be lazy and copy yours lol

You: but I guess it's probably something vacation related

Stranger: The more the merrier

You: I'm super bad at planning

You: or more specifically, I procrastinate forever

You: so I don't plan vacations normally lol

Stranger: Loll

Stranger: I kinda like to wing it with a general idea of what i want to do

Stranger: I like exploring cities

Stranger: Where do you want to vacation?

You: ahh

You: mhmm I dunno lol

You: I so bad at being decisive lol

You: I do like outdoorsy things though

You: less so cities

You: I've never been clubbing or anything like that and I don't think I'd want to lol

You: I also don't drink very much

Stranger: Its overrated

Stranger: Im more outdoorsy too

Stranger: BUTTT

Stranger: Im a foodie

You: ohh

Stranger: and love stuffing my face when i visit a city

You: mhm that's cool

You: I think I like food until it gets too expensive

You: and then my heart sinks too much to enjoy it

Stranger: Brah fuck tourist traps

Stranger: I want hole in the wall joints

You: mhm those are great ^^

Stranger: Montreal is legit my favorite city

You: mhm montreal is great!

Stranger: Have you been?

You: yup!

Stranger: yessss!

Stranger: Have you tried the bagels lol

You: I think so

Stranger: Ughhh so good

You: ahhh yeah

Stranger: I bought two bags to bring back home lol

You: yeah I remember it now that I've googled it

You: they're fantastic

Stranger: Yeahhh

Stranger: Best souvlaki i ate was in montreal

You: ohh

You: I didn't know that was a huge thing there

Stranger: Idk if it is tbh

Stranger: But the place i went was fire

Stranger: Hard af to order tbh though lol

Stranger: They didnt speak english or much french

You: ohh interesting

Stranger: My cousin told me usually their daughter works the counter

Stranger: Im guessing thats why lol

You: lol

You: I took french in high school

You: but I forgot it all

Stranger: Welcome to the club

You: mh, it's kind of disappointing in a way

Stranger: Can always brush up on it

You: very true

Stranger: Do you know any other languages?

You: Chinese

Stranger: Mandarin or Cantonese?

You: mandarin

Stranger: Nicee

You: you?

Stranger: I can understand some hindi?

Stranger: Cant really speak much

You: ohh cool!

Stranger: Lol thanks

You: I can also understand better than I can speak

You: although my accent is okay

Stranger: First generation eh

You: mhm

You: uhh I mix up the generations

Stranger: Mhmm

You: I'm second generation

Stranger: Ohhh ok

Stranger: yeah i dont get generations either

Stranger: That means you're born here but your parents arent?

You: yup

Stranger: Ohhh, same then

You: I can never remember if that's first or second generation

Stranger: Preachh

Stranger: Alrii, hit me with another ama

You: mhm

You: let's seeee

You: bah I just thought one but it's basically the same lol

Stranger: Loll

You: biggest mistake lol

You: but that's so close to regret

Stranger: Should i ask?

You: sure

Stranger: OOff lemme think

You: looool

Stranger: lol

Stranger: Uhhhh

Stranger: Celeb crush lol?

You: ohh

Stranger: Sorry, i was struggling

You: no it's fine

You: I've never been a tv or film person so I never know actors

Stranger: Ooof i forgot

Stranger: Lemme think of another then

You: can I cheat and steal your question lol?

Stranger: Lol

Stranger: Nuhh uhhh, if you dont answer it

You: lol so cheap

Stranger: No one to blame but yourself

Stranger: Shoulda gave into celebrity culture like the rest of us

You: I'll just continue to live under a rock lol

Stranger: Ok patrick

You: lol

Stranger: Lol i got one

Stranger: What spongebob character do you relate to the most

You: mhmmm this is a struggle again XD

You: I know like three characters so uhhh

Stranger: loll

Stranger: That should make it easier!

You: oh the snail!

Stranger: Lmaooo

Stranger: I was about to say you're a total gary

You: lol

Stranger: What spongebob character do you think im most like

You: mhm you're outgoing and friendly

Stranger: aww shucks

Stranger: You dont really know me

You: idk I feel like there's so little to chose from so just spongebob

You: mhm very true

Stranger: lol

You: AMA: What do I not know about you?

You: or what I am I getting wrong about you?

Stranger: Oof

Stranger: Thats hard

You: ^^

Stranger: mmmmmm

Stranger: I mean theres alot you dont know about me

Stranger: Uhhh, i'm pretty good at vollleyball and basketball?

Stranger: Such a basic answer

Stranger: I blanked out lol

You: ohh those are cool sports

You: did you play in high school?

Stranger: Naw

Stranger: I was almost in the football team

Stranger: But gave up when i found out how often id have to stay at school

Stranger: Im lazy

You: ahh

You: what did you do afterschool in high school?

Stranger: Study, tv, games

Stranger: I legit sucked in highschool

You: hm sucked?

Stranger: Was super boring, didnt really like going out of my comfort zone

You: ahh

Stranger: What were you like in highscool?

You: I feel like I'm still bad at going out of my comfort zone

You: um, I was basically like the walking stereotype

You: swimming, piano, study, manga, writing

Stranger: Oof, i remember the manga kids lol

You: lol

You: that was mostly at home for me though

You: I read it when I was supposed to be studying

Stranger: We had a circle who hung out in the library

You: ohh

Stranger: I read a little of bit of a manga to try it

Stranger: I've watched some animes though way later on lol

You: mhmm

You: I never watched anime in high school because manga was much more discreet lol

You: I could read it on my computer without my parents knowing lol

Stranger: Loll

Stranger: tiger parents

You: mhm kind of yes and no

You: yours?

Stranger: They were pretty strict

Stranger: Moving away from them really allowed me to grow as a person

You: mhm same

Stranger: Sooo, what mangas did you read

You: ohh I read everything

You: like I was addicted lol

You: I read enough that I forgot what I read and the just all blur together lol

Stranger: Loll woww

Stranger: Do you read books?

You: yup!

You: or well, I mostly stopped reading when I went to uni though

Stranger: Boo

You: yeah I know >.>

You: too many readings for uni instead

Stranger: Pick up reading again imo

You: mhm it would be good

You: what do you read?

Stranger: I jump around alot

Stranger: Some of my favorites are science fiction, mystery, fantasy, historical fiction, dystopian

You: mhm

You: I love dark stuff lol

Stranger: spoooky

Stranger: So like

Stranger: I looooove horror movies

You: (I can't watch horror lol)

Stranger: But i havent read many horror related books lol

Stranger: Loll

Stranger: Thats cool

You: mhm for me I mean dark as in heavy haha

Stranger: Oh truuue

Stranger: Have you read The Road?

You: nope!

Stranger: Pretty good

Stranger: What genres other than dark do you like lol

You: mhm do you like survival?

Stranger: Like not dying?

Stranger: Love it

You: lol

You: I meant as a genre kinda (if that is a genre?)

Stranger: Oof idk, i dont think ive read survival

Stranger: Like man vs nature type of deal?

You: oh as kid I read hatchet and some other similar ones

You: yup

You: as for other genres, in high school when I was still reading a lot, I read a lot of fantasy and generic stereotypical trashy romance stuff

Stranger: Loll

You: oh and animals

Stranger: Like peppa pig?

You: I was the first one in my friend group to pick up twilight lolololol

Stranger: Lolll

Stranger: I never actually read the books or watched the movies

You: lol

Stranger: Do you recommend them?

You: uh, retrospectively no ^^

Stranger: lolll

You: but I did like paranormal romance as a teen

You: as for animals I read stuff like warriors lol

You: and also redwall actually

Stranger: I remember redwall

Stranger: Pretty dark

You: hm? I thought it was fairly normal lol

Stranger: Lol

Stranger: What about watership down?

You: yup I loved that one

You: well, it's a classic

Stranger: Yeaa

Stranger: I didnt read it, i kinda just assumed you would have

You: I did roleplaying forums when I was in high school lol

Stranger: omg loll

Stranger: Was that your rebellious stage?

You: lol not really

You: I was "writing" so

You: lol

Stranger: Truue lol

You: I did like wolf roleplays lol and stuff

You: I was nearly a furry lol

Stranger: Oh lawd

Stranger: Or actually

Stranger: oWO*

You: lol

You: I had a lot of really good memories from then

You: they're sort of like my defining experience on the Internet I think

Stranger: Thats cool

Stranger: A tight knit community can be nice

You: mhm, and it was actually writing, which was nice too

You: it was fun to sort of put characters and stories together

Stranger: Do you still write?

You: mhm super on and off

Stranger: Can iiiii

Stranger: Read it?

You: nope! XD

Stranger: Ughh

You: lol

Stranger: Worth a shot

You: I did nanowrimo freshman year of uni

Stranger: brah im canadian

You: it's an internet thing!

Stranger: Ohhhh

Stranger: Thats cool af

You: yeah but the thing I wrote was total trash lol

Stranger: Can i read that?

You: lol absolutely not lol

Stranger: But i want to so badd

You: when you rush to write 50k words in a month, that's like 1666 words a day

You: so basically you vomit over the page

You: and like your subconscious shows up on it which can be really bad

You: like it's like bad fanfiction but even worse

Stranger: Damn

Stranger: Exposed your Id for the world to see

You: yeah lol

Stranger: Idk if im mixing up id ego andsuperego

Stranger: I dont remember which is which lol

You: I don't remember the difference between them either

Stranger: Oh well

Stranger: Ugh i want to read it so bad lol

You: Ama: worst trouble you've ever been?

You: *been in

Stranger: I got hit for plagiarism once on a throwaway course

Stranger: I didnt do it thoughh

You: what?

Stranger: Lol it was a roman literature course

Stranger: And i used the wrong translation reference

Stranger: And the prof was a stickler for it

Stranger: I could have fought it but i didnt care enough

You: ohh

Stranger: Whops

You: yeah...

Stranger: Thats not even that bad tbh lol

Stranger: I mean maybe if you're a phd, but i was in business school and it was an elective

You: mhm

Stranger: You?

You: oh which one should I pick lol

You: I'll pick a parents one

You: so in high school, I also drew on deviantart

Stranger: whats that

You: ohh it's like the art website

Stranger: ALSO IM LEARNING TO DRAW

You: deviantart is like one of the biggest art websites, or at least used to be?

Stranger: Waitt

Stranger: Is it that like sex drawing site?

You: mhm no?

Stranger: Lol okk...

Stranger: Go on

You: although I guess people do draw some nsfw things

You: anyway

You: so I had a friend on that site, who had really serious problems

You: he cut and wrote really bloody and graphic pobik

You: poems

You: and we would pm and message each other

You: and my parents found out

You: and then freaked out

You: because they thought I was going to elope

You: to denmark

Stranger: LMAO

You: which is where the guy was

Stranger: Did you?

You: we were like 16

You: lol no

You: and it wasn't romantic

Stranger: darn

Stranger: Still a chance

You: yeah so I got banned from the computer

You: so like overnight I disappeared from the Internet

You: and I got really worried for him because basically I just disappeared one day

You: and like, he's not really stable you know?

Stranger: Mhmm yea

Stranger: Was he ok?

You: mhm like a year or two later he turned out okay

Stranger: Oohhh niceee

You: yeah

You: I only have one sad internet story

You: well with a bad ending

Stranger: Ohhhh

You: but yeah, for some reason I end up finding ppl with problems a lot

Stranger: You found me

You: D:

You: do you have many problems?

Stranger: Loll, i regular amount of problems i think

You: oh okay, I got worried ^^;

Stranger: Lol, i'm good

You: mhm that's good

Stranger: Could use some ice cream

Stranger: Mango

You: what time is it for you?

Stranger: 3am

Stranger: You?

You: same late

Stranger: Your schedule is fucked up too eh

You: mhm

Stranger: Yayy

You: we are doing shifts at my lab right now

You: since we're kind of half capacity

You: and I've been doing a lot of 2-10pm ones

Stranger: Oh truuue

You: the other one is 6am-2pm lol

Stranger: I've just been staying up because i can do contract work whenever lol

Stranger: Oh wowww

You: mhm

You: well it's the easiest way to fit 8-hours twice in a day lol

Stranger: Lol yeahh

Stranger: So what hobbies you have?

Stranger: Do you still draw?

You: uhh they're almost the same as in high school

You: except I'm less active lol

You: and I don't draw

Stranger: Damnn

Stranger: Highschol you was cool af

You: mhm I didn't really share those hobbies in high school lol

Stranger: Probably a good idea at the time lol

You: did you have a bad experience in high school?

Stranger: Longgggg story

You: ohh

Stranger: Ill shorten it i guess lol

You: okay

Stranger: I didnt get to go to the highscool everyone i went to middleschool with went to

Stranger: My parents didnt like that school

Stranger: I went to some catholic school instead and i was pisssseddd

You: ohh

Stranger: So first year i kinda was being a dick

Stranger: After that i kinda coooled off and made friends who i enjoyed hanging out with

You: mhm

Stranger: Wasnt as long as i thought it would be

Stranger: Im just really good at summaries i guess

You: ohh haha, I was expecting more haha

Stranger: sorry

You: mhm it's fine ^^

You: did you stay in touch with your middle school friends?

Stranger: Nooo

You: aww

Stranger: To be honest

Stranger: My parents made the right call

You: mhm how so?

Stranger: That other highschool and my friend circle was not great

You: mhm

Stranger: At the time it was the end of teh world

Stranger: You know, teenager things lol

You: yeah haha

You: did you have siblings?

Stranger: I doo

Stranger: One brother

Stranger: How about you?

You: younger brother!

Stranger: Damn same thing

You: lol

Stranger: Was he a snitch?

You: mhm not really

You: he was adorable actually

Stranger: Thats coool

Stranger: You guys still close?

You: I would say so, kinda

You: I'm not a very lovey-dovey person when it comes to family

Stranger: Mhmm, i get it

You: but yeah, I'm fairly close with my brother, kinda

Stranger: Lol yeah

Stranger: Im also 'kinda' close

You: I guess it's "kinda" for me because we get along really well whenever I'm home

You: but we don't talk a lot when we're apart

Stranger: Lolllll

Stranger: Same

Stranger: WE message eachother on our bdays

Stranger: or if something is up with the parents

You: lol once a year?

You: mhm yeah

Stranger: Yeaaa

Stranger: Hit me with another ama?

You: mhm I didn't prepare one lol

Stranger: Oof

Stranger: Go find a celeb and develop a crush

You: I'm still curious about your ex

You: sorry to dig it up again

Stranger: Its okkk

Stranger: It is what it is

Stranger: I think we just were headed in different directions

Stranger: And the idea of what was held us together

Stranger: When was your last relationship?

You: mhm I need to count lol

You: 5 yeas

Stranger: oh woww

You: is it surprising?

Stranger: Lol idk kinda

You: mhm I kind of had these little fluffy things in between since then but I'm not really counting them

Stranger: Yeaaa

Stranger: I understand

Stranger: Do you date and stuff?

You: mhmm not actively no

Stranger: Truuue

You: how long was your last relationship?

Stranger: 3 years?

You: mhm

Stranger: My longest one

You: mhm it must have been hard

Stranger: It wass, but i knew it had to be done

Stranger: Wasnt fair to either of us

You: mhm

Stranger: Sorry to be such a downer lol

You: no it's fine

You: life has its dark parts and lighter parts

You: I'm very familiar with that

Stranger: Just like cells

You: cells?

You: ohhh

You: those cells lol

Stranger: I'm an amateur cellologist

You: lol

Stranger: My favorite is CD45RA+ AB T cells

You: lol I stuck a bunch of letter together

Stranger: But he's so darn cute

You: mhmm sooo

You: I just realized that the number online right now is way higher than it was this afternoon

Stranger: No idea, i didnt really note it

Stranger: West coast probably hoped on

You: yeah

Stranger: East coast best

You: lol

You: what sites do you frequent aside from omegle?

You: reddit is one...

Stranger: Lol yea

Stranger: Thats the big one

You: mhm what subs?

Stranger: Askhistorians

Stranger: Fitness

Stranger: Books

Stranger: campingandhiking

Stranger: cooking

Stranger: changemy view

Stranger: dataisbeautiful

Stranger: explainlikeim5

You: those are really great subs ^^

Stranger: Lol i just looked down the list

Stranger: On my subscribed

You: was there more or did you stop at E? xD

Stranger: A ton more lol

You: oh lol

You: so many

Stranger: I'll stop though

You: yeah

Stranger: Those are kinda my big ones

Stranger: How about you?

You: mhm I don't use reddit

You: I did briefly in uni

You: actually around the 2016 election I was pretty active haha

Stranger: Ooof

Stranger: You're a big politics buff

You: I was a mod at the NeutralPolitics sub ^^

You: I'm like weirdly proud of that even though it was like only for a month

Stranger: Loll

Stranger: Thats really cool

Stranger: Not as cool as me being a mod of ultimate muscle subreddit

You: whaaat?

Stranger: A niche anime on fox that nobody has watched

You: lol

Stranger: I might make you assistant to the mod if you play your cards right

You: lol

You: mhmm it's getting kind of late I think

Stranger: Yeaaa

Stranger: Any chance you have discord?

Stranger: I had fun talking

You: mhm I do, but I don't share ^^

You: sorry

You: and I had fun talking too

Stranger: Dont worry, i wont out your fanfics

You: lool

You: I have a rules with myself for omegle

You: one of them is that I just don't continue anything offline

You: #pastmistakes

Stranger: Oh nooo

Stranger: What did you do lol

You: lol uhh it's pretty bad lol

Stranger: go onnn

You: umm, it's horrible enough that I probably shouldn't share ^^

Stranger: brahh, i had to talk about my ex

You: mhm but I had some heavy periods in the past

Stranger: dishh

Stranger: Get extra absorbent

You: omggggg rofl

You: basically times that were really emotionally low

You: it's easy to end up with people online for various reasons

You: and not turn out that great

You: I guess is probably the short story ^^

Stranger: You fell for some guy and it got weird?

You: pretty much

You: I actually crush over guys pretty easily online

Stranger: And i'm like super crushable

You: aww

You: but I just think it's better not to

Stranger: Many a maiden had fallen victim to my charm

You: lol

Stranger: I get it, i dont wanna cause you any distress

You: mhm, anyhow, have a wonderful night

Stranger: You tooo

You: goodnight!

Stranger: Gnight

You have disconnected.

#omegle #conversation #music #ama #lent #relationships #dating #hiking #high school #canada #montreal #second generation immigrant #indian #accounting #contract work #phd #abstract #i lied about being single

0 notes

reid-like-roses · 7 years

Text

All I Need - Chapter 3

Read on FF.net

Summary: After the Mountain Glenn plot failed, Roman was imprisoned while Neo escaped. Enraged by Roman’s failure of her plan, Cinder punishes Neo by torturing her, banishing her from her faction and occupying Neo’s hideouts. Now homeless and without a weapon, Neo winds up far from Vale and is trapped in a blizzard. But then she’s saved by the most unlikely of heroes. Post Volume 2 AU

Content Rating: T

Word Count: 5,218

Author’s Note: Post Volume 2 AU where basically none of Volume 3 or beyond happened. Neo is mute in this story and any dialogue from her is implied or inner monologue and will be written in italics.

TRIGGER WARNING!!! Implied torture and implied rape/non-con contained in chapter. If you do not wish to read these events, turn back now.

RWBY and all the characters within are the intellectual property of Rooster Teeth Productions, Miles Luna, Kerry Shawcross, Gray Haddock and the late Monty Oum. I am not being compensated in any way for this story and wrote it merely for entertainment purposes.

“You can come out now, sis,” Yang told Ruby as she rolled her eyes at her sister’s behavior. Ruby opened the door fully and tried to exit the closet but she tripped over a bucket and crashed down to the floor with a shrill yell. An avalanche of cleaning supplies, Christmas decorations and old videotapes fell on top of the young reaper. As Ruby struggled to extricate herself from the mess, Yang sighed and shook her head.

“Honestly, I don’t know why you’re so freaked out, Ruby. You really need to chill out,” scolded Yang as she held out a hand to help Ruby up.

“Gee, I dunno, Yang,” snapped Ruby. “I’m sure it has nothing to do with the fact that the last time we saw her, she was kicking your ass so hard that I’m surprised it’s not still bruised.”

“Language, young lady” Taiyang said as he came downstairs to investigate the loud crash. Ruby muttered something under her breath as she walked over to the refrigerator and pulled a jar down from on top of it labeled ‘Swear Jar.’ She then fished a lien out of her pocket and stuffed it in the jar before returning it to its place.

“Yeah, last time she wiped the floor with me,” muttered Yang bitterly, clearly not fond of the memory Ruby just brought up. “But this isn’t last time. I mean just look at her.”

“Regardless of her current condition,” Taiyang said calmly, holding up both hands to try to appeal for peace between the two sisters, “we still need to have a talk about what’s going to happen with our new guest.”

“I already told you that I’m not going to let you kick her out, Dad.” Yang bristled.

“I know. And I agree with what you said. I let my emotions get the better of me and you’re right, it would be inhumane to kick her out with nowhere to go in weather like this. But we have to stay on our toes because we don’t know how long it’s going to be before her friends come looking for her.”

“I don’t think she’s a threat right now,” said Yang far more calmly than she had been a moment ago. “She had a bit of a breakdown and during it, she told me how she’s lost everything, including her house and all her friends. And I could tell it wasn’t just an act. She’s legitimately at the end of her rope right now.”

“And you believe her?” Ruby asked incredulously.

“Yes, Ruby, I do,” Yang shot back with a scowl.

“I know you want to believe her, Yang," sighed Taiyang wearily, "but the fact remains that she’s not somebody who deserves our trust.”

“I know she doesn’t deserve it but I dunno. I just have this gut feeling about her that she really needs somebody to help her. And I feel like I can do that for her. Maybe we can make her an ally?”

“I wouldn’t count on that,” muttered Ruby just loud enough to be heard by everyone.

“At some point soon,” Taiyang said sharply to counter Ruby’s interruption, “you need to talk to her and get as much information out of her as you can. We need to know why she’s here on Patch and what she was doing before you found her.”

“I’m not going to interrogate her, Dad,” Yang said in annoyance. “She’s not some prisoner. She’s done nothing wrong to us.”

“Does helping crash a train into downtown Vale and letting the city get overrun by Grimm not ring any bells?” Ruby asked sardonically.

“That’s enough, Ruby,” snapped Taiyang as he rounded on his younger daughter. “Upstairs to your room, now.”

“But Daddy!” Ruby protested.

“No buts. Yang and I are trying to have a serious talk about this matter and you’re not contributing anything positive. March upstairs until we’re done.” Ruby huffed in annoyance and stuck her tongue out at Yang who just rolled her eyes. Ruby then stomped loudly upstairs and slammed her door behind her. Taiyang grimaced and shook his head in disappointment. As mature and gifted as Ruby had been to be accepted into Beacon early, sometimes she could still be a teenage brat.

“Anyway,” said Yang to break the silence, “as I said, I’m not going to interrogate her. If you want answers from her so badly, call up Qrow or Ozpin.”

“I really don’t want it to have to come to that if it doesn’t have to,” Taiyang said heavily, worn out from all that had happened in the past day. “I’m hoping that she’ll be willing to talk simply because of what you did for her.”

“Even if she would be willing to talk to me, do you really think she’d give me a straight answer?”

“It’s tough to say. I guess it really depends on how much she wants to protect her allies. If what she told you already is true and she’s acting on her own, I see no reason why she’d lie.” As Yang was about to offer another retort, the smoke alarm suddenly started beeping. “Oh no, I forgot about our dinner!”

Taiyang dashed to the oven and threw open the door to find the roast he was cooking had been badly burned. Acrid smoke poured out and caused Taiyang to start coughing. Yang groaned and grabbed the fire extinguisher from the closet Ruby had been hiding in and quickly doused the flames.

“So, spaghetti then?” Yang asked as she waved her hand to try and clear the smoke from her face. Taiyang simply nodded as he pulled the burnt roast from the oven.

————————————————————————————————-

“Neo? Wake up Neo,” said a cool, menacing female voice. Neo did come to and the first thing she saw was the glinting amber eyes of Cinder Fall. Behind her were her lackeys, Emerald Sustrai and Mercury Black. All three were wearing identical malicious smirks on their faces. Cinder reached up to lightly caress Neo’s face as she spoke again. “I don’t think you understand this game, Neo. If you die, then I can’t keep inflicting pain on you. And I’ve been having so much fun.”

Neo wanted to sign something nasty to her in reply but her hands and ankles were bound and she was unable to move. The cool air hitting her skin made Neo shiver and she realized she was naked. Neo looked down at her body and saw a large amount of scratches, cuts, bruises and dried blood all over her skin.

“I haven’t even gotten to have my turn with the little slut yet,” crooned Mercury, suggestively fiddling with his belt as he said it. “You two ladies have gotten all the fun so far.”

“Please let me know when you plan on doing that so I can be as far away as humanly possible,” growled Emerald. “The last thing I need to see is your disgusting ass in mid coitus.”

“Aw, but Emerald, I need your tips on how to properly fuck this bitch. You seemed to really enjoy making her scream earlier.”

“Quiet you two,” snapped Cinder, letting her fake pleasant façade slip for a second. “You’ll get your chance to get your rocks off Mercury. But there’s more pressing matters to attend to right now. Tell me Neo, have you ever read the works of Shan Yu?”

“Uh, she can’t tell you anything, boss,” interrupted Mercury in befuddlement. “She can’t talk, remember?”

“It’s an expression, you dense moron,” Emerald hissed as she elbowed Mercury in the abdomen hard enough to drive the wind out of him. “Shut up and let Cinder finish.”

“Thank you, Emerald,” said Cinder with a smile. She then walked over to a table nearby and picked up an instrument with lots of sharp, pointy ends on it. Cinder flipped a switch on it and it hummed to life with a threatening buzzing noise. She then sauntered over to Neo and pressed the tip of the device right against her belly button.

“Now, if you haven’t read his works Neo, he was a dictator many centuries ago who had some rather fascinating insights on war and humanity. One of my favorite things he wrote was, ‘Live with a man 40 years. Share his house, his meals. Speak on every subject. Then tie him up, and hold him over the volcano’s edge. And on that day, you will finally meet the man.’ Now we’ve been associated for a little while, Neo, but you’ve always been hanging around with Roman while I was busy with my plans. And I don’t feel we ever really got the chance to get to know each other. But now that we have all this time to ourselves, I’m dying to meet the real you.”

As Cinder pressed a button that caused the device to stab into her, Neo’s eyes flew open as she woke up in terror. After a frantic few moments of looking around, she realized that she was back in the guest room of the house on Patch. Pain shot through her left leg and she winced as she started unraveling herself from her cocoon of blankets. When Neo finally got to her leg, she was horrified at how mangled it looked. She hadn’t had a chance yet to survey the damage she’d suffered from the beowolves and falling out of the tree.

Neo tried desperately to fight back tears as she heard a small yip come from the floor beside her. She glanced down to see Zwei looking up at her with as much concern as a dog’s face could manage. He ran to the bedroom door then back to where he was, looking between Neo and the door every couple seconds. Neo realized he was asking if he should get help and Neo nodded emphatically at him. Zwei ran back to the door and began scratching at it, barking as loudly as he could. A few moments later, Neo heard heavy footsteps running down the stairs and an instant later, a disheveled looking Yang burst into the room.

“What is it Zwei? What’s wrong?” Zwei ran back over to the bed and put his front paws up on the mattress to draw Yang’s attention to Neo. Yang saw her face screwed up in agony and she quickly moved to Neo’s bedside. “What happened? What do you need?”

“I had a bad dream and I woke up with my leg killing me. Do you have any pain meds?”

“Of course, I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Yang dashed back out of the room as Neo laid back down on her pillows. She wondered why she hadn’t noticed the pain before but assumed that she must have just been so numb from the cold that she didn’t notice. A minute later, Yang was back with a handful of pills and a glass of water. Neo took both and quickly downed the pills.

“Thanks,” Neo signed as she set the glass down on the bedside table.

“You’re welcome. Do you need anything else? Should I hang out for a bit?”

“That would be nice.” Yang nodded and went back to the door to close it. She then sat down at the foot of the bed and scanned her eyes over Neo. Yang had been too preoccupied with getting her warm that she hadn’t noticed just how beaten up Neo was. Ugly scars and bruises, both fresh and still healing were all over the skin that Yang could see. Neo shivered as she realized just how cold she was and retreated back under the blankets. But it was still too cold for her.

“Can I ask you something?”

“You just did,” replied Yang with a self-satisfied smirk. Neo shot Yang a death glare that Blake would have been impressed by before she resumed signing.

“When I came to, I felt very warm and safe. And then I hit you, which means you must have been close by me. Were you cuddling with me?”

“I mean, if you want to look at it like that, sure.”

“Pervert,” Neo signed with a joking smirk on her face.

“Hey, it wasn’t like that at all, got it?” Yang shot back defensively. “Your body was ice cold and I needed to take every measure I could to keep you alive. So I held onto you all night and made sure you got warm.”

Neo paused for a moment as a deep blush crept over her face. “Would you be willing to do it again?”

“For real?” Yang asked, a blush of her own blooming on her face. “Uh, sure. I could do that again.” Yang pulled the blankets aside and stepped into the bed with Neo. After taking a moment to get herself comfortable, Yang apprehensively snaked her right arm under Neo’s neck and held it close against her. Neo stiffened up as she felt the warmth of Yang creep over her. She suddenly felt very small and helpless as she was wrapped up in the arms of the huntress.

“Are you okay? You’re very tense. Are you sure this is okay?” Neo realized she wasn’t in an optimal position to sign a reply so she pointed to the dry erase board on the bedside table. Yang grabbed it and handed it over to the mute woman.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’ve just never been cuddled with before. At least not as far as I can remember.”

“Torchwick wasn’t much of a touchy-feely kinda guy, eh?”

Neo glared at Yang and quickly wrote back, “Not that it’s any of your business but no, he’s not. And Roman and I never had a relationship like that.”

“Okay, sorry. Didn’t mean tick you off.” The two fell silent again as Neo tried to get used to the feeling of being cuddled. Even though she was still scared to be touched so intimately, the thrill of how good it felt intoxicated her. She buried her head against Yang’s chest and heard her heart beating rapidly. Eventually, Neo reached her arm around Yang’s abdomen and hugged her closer to her.

“You feel really good.” Neo spelled out on Yang’s hip.

“Hey,” giggled Yang as she began to squirm, “watch it! That tickles!”

Neo reluctantly withdrew her arm so she could write and replied, “Sorry. I wish I had a better way to talk to you while keeping my arm around you.”

“It’s fine, you can go back to that. Also, you feel pretty nice too. You’re much warmer than the last time I did this.” Neo placed the board beside her on the bed and returned her arm to around Yang’s torso. They spent a few minutes snuggling, both getting drunk on the feeling of the other’s skin. Even though she was in utter bliss, Neo really had something to tell Yang so she once again picked up the dry erase board.

“I think I’m ready to talk to you now.”

“About your nightmare?” Yang questioned, a little sad that their great cuddle had come to an end.

“No. About me. About how I ended up like this.”

“Yeah?” Yang asked, trying to contain her excitement. “You sure you want to?”

“I’ve got nothing else to lose in my life. I might as well tell my story.”

“Okay, well what do you want to talk about first?”

“Whatever you want to know most about.”

“Well, there’s lots of things I want to know about you,” began Yang slowly, pondering the question. As she thought, her father’s request came back to her mind and she knew what she had to ask first. “But the first thing I should ask about is the one that I’ve been told I need to find out from you. Am I or anyone in my family in danger because you’re here?”

Neo started writing a lengthy response. Yang couldn’t help but be slightly nervous as to what would be waiting for her when Neo was finished. She really hoped that Neo wasn’t just being overdramatic earlier and really meant that she was by herself now. When Neo finished, she passed the board to Yang.

“Not as a direct result of me, no. After the train incident, I was severely punished for Roman’s failure and banished from the faction. I tried to lay low in one of our safehouses but I was captured again and dumped out of a plane. I think they meant for me to drown in the ocean but I ended up here instead. But the point is, anyone I was previously associated with is either imprisoned or considers me an enemy. And none of those individuals know my current whereabouts.”

Yang breathed a small sigh of relief that her family could stop worrying about being in danger from Neo. But Neo had mentioned something she couldn’t help wanting to hear more about. “You said you were punished. How bad was it?”

“It was bad. I’ll just leave it at that.” Neo wrote with a pained grimace on her face as the memories of how she was tortured came back to her. “Cinder probably should have just killed me but she chose to make me suffer instead.”

“Wait, Cinder? You mean that girl from Haven?” Yang asked in shock.

“Yeah, her. The whole thing was her plan. She, Emerald, Mercury and a bunch of pricks I didn’t get to meet are on some big crusade to punish the rest of the kingdoms or some shit like that for all of Mistral’s problems. I don’t know. I wasn’t ever really interested in their bullshit. I just did what I was asked to.”

“Wow. I can’t believe it was them all along. They fought alongside us in Vale. They helped clear out the Grimm. And it was them the whole time?” Neo nodded her head solemnly to confirm Yang’s question. An awkward silence fell between to two for a minute. Yang couldn’t believe what she had just been told. Was she going to have to go through the rest of her time as a huntress not knowing who to trust? Cinder and her friends had been so pleasant but they were the bad guys. Meanwhile, Neo had seemed like a complete monster but Yang was finding out she was nothing of the sort either.

“You still want to talk about me?” Neo wrote and stuck in front of Yang’s glazed over eyes.

“Oh, yeah, sure,” replied Yang, snapping out of her train of thought. “Sorry, that whole thing with Cinder just kind of threw me for a loop. Um, how about this? Were you born mute or did something happen to you that caused it?”

“No, I wasn’t born like this. I haven’t talked since I was a little girl. My parents’ house burned down and killed them but I somehow managed to survive. Ever since then, I haven’t been able to speak.”

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. Where did you go then?”

“None of my other ‘family’ would take me in so I was sent to an orphanage to hopefully get adopted. That’s where I met Roman. His mom died giving birth to him and his dad didn’t want to raise a kid on his own so he just gave him away. He took pity on me and was my protector when we were there. I can’t even count how many times he was beaten for sticking up for me when the people who ran the orphanage or the other kids tried to give me trouble for not speaking.”

“So, did you ever get adopted?”

“No. It became clear to both of us when we hit our teens that we were lost causes and we were sick of all the shit at the orphanage. So, we ran away, just the two of us against the world. I unlocked my aura and learned how to fight and disguise myself. And Roman did all the talking.”

“Is that how you became criminals?”

“Look,” Neo began writing with a stern look at Yang, “you call it being criminals but we were two kids on our own with nothing in the world but each other so we did what we had to to survive. Did we rob people and steal things? Yeah, we did. Would you have done anything differently if you were in the same situation? If it was you and your sister who were homeless street rats, wouldn’t you do the exact same thing?”

“I guess,” admitted Yang begrudgingly. “So, then how’d you get mixed up in the whole take over the world stuff?”

“Roman never really gave me all the details as to what happened. He just told me that this woman came to him with an offer that was too good to pass up. He said that if it worked, we wouldn’t have to worry about being petty thieves ever again. We’d be set for life and all the people in power would get what’s coming to them.”

“Do you regret what you did at all?”

“To a point. Do I regret doing whatever it took to scrape out a living? No. Do I regret getting dragged into business with those assholes? Absolutely. I never wanted any of that. I just wanted to keep living like how we were.”

“What do you think you’re going to do once you’re better?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. I mean, ideally, I’d love to find Cinder, break every bone in her body and then chop her up into a billion pieces. But beyond that, I don’t know.”

“Have you ever given thought to being a huntress?” Yang asked her hopefully. “With your fighting skills, you could be a really damn good one.”

“Ah, so that’s your game, is it? You’re gonna see the potential deep down inside me and try to turn me into a good girl, is that right? Turn me into a model citizen and make me renounce all my wicked ways?”

“No, that’s not it,” replied Yang with a guilty tone. She had to admit that the idea had crossed her mind even though she figured it was a lost cause. “I just figured that fighting is what you’re probably best at and why not make a proper career out of it?”

“Thanks, but I’ll pass. I may not be interested in bringing down Ozpin, Ironwood and all those pricks anymore but believe me when I say that they’re still pricks. And I don’t really care to be one of their lapdogs for bullying the rest of the world into behaving just like them.”

“You’re probably going to have to work with them if you want to get to Cinder so badly. And as good as you are, you’re not going to be able to take her down by yourself.”

“Yeah, I know I’m not good enough to beat them all myself. But I refuse to fight their war for them. If you’re fine with being their little disposable hero, you go right ahead. That’s not how I want to live my life, though.”

“I’m not really interested in that sort of stuff, either. I just want to travel around the world, have some adventures and kill some monsters. And if doing that helps out some people in need, that’s a bonus.”

“You may want that but that’s not what they want for you. And if this war really does end up kicking off, they’re going to drag you into it whether you want to fight or not.”

“Do you really think it’s going to come to that?” Yang asked nervously. “Do you think we’re gonna go to war?”

“It’s tough to say. Cinder and her cronies do have quite a lot of shit together and they’re certainly pissed off at the world enough to try something.”

“Remnant’s been at peace for so long. I can’t imagine what would happen if the kingdoms went to war against each other again.”

“Has it really? I bet your White Fang buddy would have something to say about that.”

“Neo, please,” said Yang in desperation, “you have to do this one thing for me. Promise me that you’ll do whatever you can to make sure that this war doesn’t happen.”

“And why should I help you with anything?”

“I don’t want to have to play this card but I did save your life. I know you don’t owe me anything but please, it would mean everything to me if you can somehow keep us from going to war. I’ve lost too many people in my life already and I don’t want war to take any more. Please, I’m begging you.”

Neo paused for a few moments to consider what Yang was asking for her. Finally, she closed her eyes and let out a defeated sigh as she began to write, “Okay, fine. I can’t guarantee that I can stop it. But I’ll give your leaders all the intel I can so that they can maybe put an end to it.”

“Thank you. Thank you so much.” Yang hugged Neo tightly against her and caused a searing surge of pain from Neo’s wounds. Neo frantically flailed against Yang to try and get her to release her. Yang realized what she’d done and quickly backed away from Neo who was gritting her teeth in agony.

“You know I can’t be an informant if I’m broken in half, right?” Neo signed as the pain slowly began to ebb.

“Sorry, I got carried away,” muttered Yang sheepishly. “I should probably go and let you try and get back to sleep, yeah?” Yang went to leave but Neo quickly grabbed onto Yang’s wrist and held onto it tightly. Yang glanced back at Neo and saw she looked as surprised at her actions as Yang was. With her free hand, Neo grabbed her marker and wrote out a message for Yang.

“Please stay?” Yang read the message and then looked to Neo. She looked terrified and Yang wasn’t sure if it was because Yang might leave or because she’d written that note. Yang couldn’t help noting the similarity to Ruby when she was younger and would beg Yang to let her stay in Yang’s bed. Yang then soberly nodded and readjusted herself to how she was lying before. Neo returned her head onto Yang’s chest and listened to her heartbeat again. As strange as it was, just hearing that made Neo feel very safe and protected. Within a few minutes, both girls drifted off to sleep.

————————————————————————————————

Neo panted for breath as she glared at Emerald who was holding Neo’s parasol and malevolently twirling it in her fingers. Neo made a lunge for her but Emerald simply teleported away again and reappeared a few feet to her left. As Neo tried to strike Emerald again, a sudden kick from out of her vision landed right in her stomach and knocked the wind out of her. As Neo struggled for breath, another kick came at her, this time striking her in the jaw. Neo flopped to the ground but immediately tried to get back on her feet. As she raised her head, she saw Mercury standing above her, his leg poised in the air. He then brought his foot down with a smashing axe kick, causing the ground under Neo’s head to crack.

Emerald then hooked Neo by the back of her collar with the crook parasol and pulled Neo into a kneeling position. Through the fog caused by the kicks, Neo could faintly see the glowing eyes of Cinder walking towards her. As her vision fully recovered, Neo noticed the bow in Cinder’s hand with a frightening black arrow cocked back and aimed right at Neo’s heart.

“Tell me Neo, do you believe in destiny?” Cinder asked. But before any sort of answer could be given, the lights suddenly went out. Neo heard an arrow whiz by her face and clatter to the ground.

“Whoa, what happened?” Mercury yelled in surprise. “Everything suddenly went dark!”

“No kidding, genius,” grumbled Emerald. “The power went out. Go check the fusebox and see if it needs a new one.”

“No, wait,” Cinder said with a noticeable twinge of fear, “we must have been found out. Quickly, retreat.” The three villains tried to make their way out of the dark but suddenly Neo could hear blows being landed and grunts of pain. An enraged yell rang out and Neo looked up to see Cinder flashing in and out of light as muzzle blasts illuminated her while loud shotgun shots rang out. After several seconds of being pummeled, Cinder crumpled unconscious to the floor. Before she knew what was happening, Neo was scooped up by a pair of strong, sculpted arms and was being carried princess style away from her captors.

“It’s okay Neo, you’re safe now,” her savior said. Neo broke into a wide smile as she realized that she had been saved by Yang. She threw her arms around Yang’s neck and nuzzled her face against the blonde’s. Yang finally got the two of them out of the room and removed the night vision goggles she’d been wearing. She looked down at Neo who looked very relieved to be out of that mess.

“I always wondered what it would be like to be saved by my hero,” Neo signed to her.

“Yeah? Did I meet your expectations?” Yang asked cheekily.

“More than you ever could have done. I think you deserve a reward.” Neo then readjusted her body until her legs were wrapped around Yang’s torso and she was looking the blonde in the eye. She then pulled Yang in for a passionate kiss. Yang was all too happy to reciprocate as she ran her free hand through Neo’s hair.

“I love you,” Yang whispered against Neo’s lips. Neo shivered as goosebumps erupted down her spine and she slid her head down onto Yang’s shoulder. Yang hugged Neo tightly against her but not too tight as she lightly rubbed Neo’s back.

Neo tilted her head up and said hoarsely into Yang’s ear, “I love you too.”

Neo’s eyes snapped open and she found herself back in Yang’s guest room. Down the hall, Neo could faintly hear the sound of sizzling bacon and the delicious smell of pancakes. She then noticed that Yang was no longer in bed with her and judging by the temperature of the space next to her, she’d been gone for a little while. Neo felt a stray tear leak out of her eye and she sadly placed her hand on the pillow Yang had been using. She then recalled the dream she had been having and her heart fluttered at the memory of kissing Yang. As much as she enjoyed the thought of that happening, Neo had to admit that this was not good. Things were starting to get very complicated for her very fast. And if she didn’t get her emotions in check as soon as possible, she could end up falling for someone she knew she shouldn’t.

#rwby #rwby fanfiction #rwby fanfic #baked alaska #neopolitan #neo politan #yang xiao long

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