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ticklishshenanigansau · 3 years

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Ticklish Shenanigans - Chapter 44

Kid Sure Can Hold a Grudge, Huh?

Mod Yosh ~ Angel, Denise, Papyrus, Toriel Mod Kitty ~ Flowey, Frisk, Sans

Sans sat still and quiet as Papyrus finished up the job of wiping his bones down of any lingering blood. He knew he'd still have to change when he got the chance. "thanks, bro...."

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“Are.... Are you going to be alright?...” Papyrus asked softly in concern.

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He sniffled, daring to peek open his sockets again which immediately started to water. He wiped at them. "y-yeah ... you know m-me. i'll come to my senses eventually when i'm with ya, pap...."

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Papyrus smiled gently as he hugged his brother close. “You have no idea how happy I am to hear that.”

“Is there anything I can do to help you two get better?” Toriel asked.

“Well ... I think Sans could do with a bottle of ketchup right about now. U-unless it emotionally destabilizes him because it's the same color as b-blood. I ... I think we just need some time alone. Thank you, Lady Toriel.”

“Well, if you need anything else, I'll be in my room getting ready for the next school week.” Planting a gentle kiss on Sans' skull and rubbing Papyrus' shoulder, she made her way back to her room.

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Eyes adjusting to the light and reality, Sans stared blankly ahead, emotions and thoughts jumbled and confused. "i-i'm so sorry i let her get hurt, pap, i sh-shoulda realized she'd wanna come with us. sh-she always does.... i shoulda known! i'm sorry!"

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“Hey, hey, it's okay now.” He rubbed Sans' back and hugged him tightly. “We were all distracted, it's not your fault. I mean ... I'm her owner, I should have made sure she wouldn't follow. If there's anyone to be blamed for this, it's me. Don't blame yourself, Sans. Angel will be just fine now. I'm just so glad you managed to get her here in the nick of time. Thank you so much, Sans, for saving her.”

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Calming down a bit, Sans shook his head against his brother's neck. "n-naw bro, if you're not lettin' me blame myself, i'm not gonna let you be hard on yourself either." Stretching himself upward, he gently nuzzled Papyrus's cheek then leaned his skull against his brother's shoulder. "i promised i'd find her, there was no way i wasn't gonna try my best. i ... i think she was hurt before i even got there though, but ... i just dunno how it happened. a ... a lot'a stuff happened to me up here," he expounded, tapping his skull, "but ... someone or somethin' else must have been in there for her to get a wound like that.... it c-couldn't have been dad. he ... he helped me find her. all he's ever done is try to keep us safe and ignorant to the void, h-he wouldn't do that to her. there must have been someone else...!"

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“That's what I believe too. Perhaps.... Perhaps there was another reason why Dad was trying to ... scare us away from trying to find him. Maybe ... he knows of something lurking in the Underground, and he's trying to keep us safe from their wrath. I don't know who it could possibly have been, though.... All I know is when — or if — we go back down there, we'll have to be much more prepared.”

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Sans looked down to the ground, the image of Frisk's blank, dust-covered face rose in his mind. "y-yeah ... i'm stumped too...." He clung a bit closer. "b-but i think we have a better idea of what we're facing now, even if we had to learn the h-hard way...." Sans managed a soft, weak chuckle. "...hey, i th-think you're right about the ketchup thing, but ... could ya maybe make me some tea while i go change? i, uh, like mine with a lot of milk, heh...."

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Papyrus giggled a bit, trying to lighten the mood. “Milk in tea? You sure are something else, aren't you? Sure, I'll make you some, go ahead and change.” He gave his brother one last hug before making his way into the kitchen to fill a tea kettle with water, ignoring Flowey's presence.

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"heheh, you know it, bro." Squeezing Papyrus tightly before he withdrew, Sans headed upstairs and peeled off his bloodstained clothes. Rummaging through his drawer, he grabbed a soft, blue t-shirt with a white decal of the galaxy, and dark-gray shorts and got dressed. Luckily his slippers hadn't gotten dripped on — he only had the one pair.

Flowey ignored the fact that Papyrus was ignoring him. "Golly, it seems like you sure had a rough time, friend! Especially that cat and your brother! It's a good thing you can hug Sans today, isn't it?" He grinned rather maliciously.

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Papyrus chose to ignore the little flower rather than humor him, silently screaming at the water to just hurry up and boil already.

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"Gosh, you know, Papyrus, being rude to me is what made tomorrow's punishment happen in the first place. Are you sure you really want to ignore me? I could add on another day ... or even make it the rest of today too...."

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“You know, Flowey....” Papyrus began coldly. “I just learned that my only other relative besides Sans is still alive, yet we're unable to reach him. Sans nearly went insane in his own despair and sorrow, and my cat was this close to bleeding to death from a knife wound. Sorry if I'm not really in the mood for any more stress and trauma right now when I'm about to collapse on my own.” As he spoke, his sockets began to water, but he wiped them away, not wanting to be seen crying in front of one of his enemies. “Please … just leave me alone for now.”

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Flowey was about to uncaringly gloat some more, but then paused after a breath. His expression changed to an open-mouthed frown, beady eyes slightly narrowed. "Did you just say a knife wound?"

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Papyrus looked over at Flowey, surprised and puzzled that he was actually showing some form of concern to the situation. “Umm.... Yes?”

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Flowey stayed quiet for a few seconds. "...Interesting. What happened, exactly? Tell me everything you know."

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Papyrus stared dumbfounded at the flower for a moment. Why in the world would Flowey be so interested in what had happened to his kitten? With a soft huff, he decided to humor him. “Unfortunately, I don't know much. You'd have the most luck asking Angel, but she's on her way to the vet. However, Lady Toriel did say she was muttering things like ‘erase’ and ‘control’ in her sleep as she rested.”

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Flowey slouched on his stem in a haze of thought. "Golly, that's ... that's something, isn't it. I'll definitely be talking to her when she gets back...." He turned toward the window, gazing out. "Go ahead with what you were doing, friend."

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Papyrus was very much taken aback. This wasn't like him at all, that's for sure. He was about to go against his better judgement and ask what was wrong when the kettle began to whistle. Deciding to save his question for later, he took the kettle off the heated eye and poured the scalding liquid in a tea cup over a bag of herbal tea mix. Once he had let it steep for a few minutes, he added a generous amount of milk and stirred the contents in the cup with a spoon.

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Sans made his way down the stairs, stopping by the bathroom to make sure all the traces of blood were gone. Papyrus had done a thorough job — not that he should be surprised, his brother did like to keep things clean after all. Even so, he looked rather worse for wear, eyes tired and haunted. He should probably take a proper shower, but he just didn't have the energy at the moment. Gingerly clutching his arms, he walked to the kitchen hanging in the doorway rather quietly just as his brother started mixing his beverage together.

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Papyrus finished mixing the ingredients in and turned, preparing to search the house for Sans, only to jump and yelp when he saw him in the doorway, nearly spilling the drink all over him. “G-gosh, Sans, you startled me! I didn't even hear you come down. Uhh.... I finished your tea. I didn't know exactly how much milk you liked so I took my best guess.” He handed his brother the cup.

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"geeze, ah, sorry pap, heh." Sans gave Papyrus an apologetic look as he took the offered cup, downing a small sip. "mm ... thanks, this is udder-ly great, bro." He smiled softly.

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Papyrus snorted softly. “Good thing you aren't around any Temmies, brother, otherwise they'd have a cow with that pun.”

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Sans's grin grew, sockets nearly arching as he huffed out chuckles, shoulders lightly shaking. "heheh...! oh geeze, don't ... don't remind me. those monsters don't skim-p on the whole punishment thing. really puts a damper on the moo-ood."

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“Nyeheheehahaa! I just can't bull-ieve I still can't out-pun you to this day!” Papyrus covered his mouth with his hands as he giggled.

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"oh, i'll always cream you at pun-offs, bro," Sans snickered, leaning against the wall for support. "i dairy you to even try, heheeheh!"

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Staring and blinking for a few seconds, he finally threw his hands up in the air in surrender before walking out of the kitchen and into the living room.

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Sans broke out into soft, but ringing laughter, following his brother out to the living room, trying not to spill his tea in his amusement. "oh my gosh, pap, hahaha! thanks again for the calf-feine, hahaa! it's quite bovine, heheeehee!"

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“NYEEEEEH!” Papyrus flopped on the couch dramatically, mumbling into the armrest.

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Sans snickered into his hand for a good few moments, waiting for a pause in his giggle fit to take another longer sip of his tea. Setting the cup down on a safe surface, he stood beside the couch with a soft grin, then hopped up, laying against his brother's backbone. "hmm, seems like this couch has a few lumps, heheh!"

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Papyrus let out a strained squeak. “Gah...! You're the big ol' lump here, get offa meeeee...!”

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"naw, heh, i think i might rest here for awhile, maybe take a nice, long nap, heheh," Sans couldn't keep the chuckles out of his voice, idly tracing his fingers along the side of his brother's ribs.

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“Eeek!” Papyrus jolted in shock at the unexpected tickling — though, really, he should have expected as such from his brother. He reached behind him to try and grab his brother's wrists, though wasn’t quite able to reach given the awkward position he was in. “Nyeheeheee! Sahans!”

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Withdrawing so Papyrus wouldn't catch his hand, he leaned slightly the other way, to teasingly scritch and trail over his femur. "heheh, what? why're you laughin', bro? what's so funny?" Sans grinned down at him.

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“Nyahahahaaaa! Y-you’re tihickling mehehee!” He kicked his legs around a bit, lightly smacking the armrest with a hand.

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"what? no wayyy! you must be imagining things, bro!" Sans snickered and flopped down more fully on top of Papyrus, skittering his fingers along his vertebrae and the sides of his ribs in earnest.

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“Ahaa! Nyahaaaa! Stahahappit!” Papyrus gave up on trying to swipe Sans' hands away, thumping the couch with his fists as he wiggled his spine around.

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"stop what, bro?" Sans scooted up slightly, reaching for Papyrus's nape, gently teasing with his fingertips, grin wide.

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Papyrus grinned and giggled giddily, twitching a bit, but ultimately falling still. “N-nehever mind! Nyeheheheeeaahaa!~”

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"hehehe! you're adorable and hilarious, pap," Sans cooed, delighting in his brother's happy laughter. His SOUL was far calmer now than it had been — he didn't have to think too much, playing around with Papyrus like this, and that was just fine with him. Teasingly, he glided his fingers down and across his scapulae, then skittered back up along the sides of his neck. "heheh, gitchy gitchyyy getcha!"

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“AhahaaHAA! Heheeeee! Sahahaahans, ahahaaa!” Frankly, he was more than glad that Sans was getting over the day's events in the here and now, and he was definitely enjoying the attention. He felt it was time to return the favor, however, so he summoned a few rather quaky bones and began poking Sans' backbone.

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Sans squeaked and curled his fingers, not particularly wanting to fight off the magical attack. "ehee! mhmhmm ... hahaha~!" He was still unable to help lightly squirming.

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“Nyeh? Now you're laughing? What's gotten you in such a giggly mood, huh, brother?” He grinned as the poking and prodding turned into scratching and twisting now that he was less distracted.

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With a rather shrill intake of breath, Sans wriggled, sliding off and down beside Papyrus. "hh~hehe! s-sohomethin's pohokin' at my~hee back...!" he played along, grinning giddily. "c-can ya—aahaha~! ch-cheheck it out f-for mehee?"

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Papyrus couldn't seem to hold back his giggles. If he himself was as cute as Sans claimed he was, then Sans was downright adorable! “Sure thing, brother!” He lifted up his shirt and began to lightly scratch his vertebrae.

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"heheee~! mhmm~haa! h-heheh~kkh~hmhmmm!" Sans fidgeted, humming and giggling into his arms. His SOUL brightened, flushing out some remnants of darkness that had seeped within.

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“Hmm.... I can't seem to find anything here, brother. Should I stop?” He smirked playfully as he slowed down his tickling.

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Sans lifted his head slightly to peek at him. Geeze, that knowing smirk.... "no, dohon't s-stop, i kn-know thehere's somethin' there!" he said, just shy of begging, stretching himself out a little more and shivering as Papyrus slowed.

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“Well, okaaaaay...~” He resumed tickling, picking up the pace dramatically in a duration of a few seconds.

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Sans's eyes arched at the rush of pleasant tingles, squirming in a burst. "ehehee~! a-ahaha! mhm~ahahaaa! hahaha! oho no, ahee thihink it's you~! hahaa!" he playfully accused, starting to lightly kick his legs.

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Papyrus gasped dramatically. “Oh, dear! It appears you are right, brother! However, I have found that I'm unable to stop! I seem to be mutating from a skeleton monster to a skeleton tickle monster!” He started to rapidly scratch and skitter across his backbone, twisting his fingers mercilessly between the vertebrae.

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Shoulders shaking in genuine mirth, Sans briefly guffawed before falling back into helpless giggles. "ahaha~heehehee! oho nohoho! y-you gahahatta fihight ihit, bro! gghkk~! aaahaaahaa! heheee~aaaaaaahaa~!"It was still wonderful, but the relentless twists crossed that unbearable cusp and Sans rolled over onto his back, defensively batting at his brother's hands. "hehee! d-dohon't gihive in! hahaaa!"

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Papyrus laughed loudly and happily as he gently combated with his brother, trying to find an opening to tickle his ribs. “I'm tryheeheeing, brother! Nyahahaah!”

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Seeing the long, bony fingers dart in close to his ribs was enough to make Sans curl up, rolling onto his side, eyes shut tightly and grin giddy "heheee! noho! no! ahaaa! whyhehe cahan't you t-tuhurn ihinto a h-hugging mohonster? haaha!"

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Giggling, Papyrus hugged Sans tightly, nuzzling him affectionately. “Believe me, brother, you'll wish you never asked for this!” Grinning, he began to wiggle his fingers along Sans' spine and hips, trapping his arms to his sides in the hug.

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After an initial jolt, Sans nearly relaxed into the cuddly hug, letting out a full-bodied sigh — then tensed up again at Papyrus's words. With a gasping yelp, he wriggled and wormed around to no avail, now completely unable to physically defend himself. "kkh~hehee! ahaha! pahaaahap! nahaa, plehease! you're r-rihight, ahehee rehehegret ihit! hahaahaa!"

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“Alright, alright, I'll leave you alone now.” He stopped tickling and snuggled Sans with a happy hum.

Just then, the front door swung inwardly, and Denise and Frisk entered the house, the younger sister holding a pet carrier in her arms. “Hey, Frisk and I are back!” Spotting the two brothers snuggling on the couch, she squealed loudly, her hands shooting up to her mouth. “Awwwww! So adorable! Frisk, look how cute they are!”

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"hehee...~" Sans affectionately bumped his head against Papyrus's chest, nuzzling him with a contented smile. His sockets still betrayed a little wear, but in the moment, his troubles felt far away.

"Oh my gosh, awwwwww! I wish I had a camera, hehe!" Frisk giggled.

"geeze, it's like they've never seen two skeletons hug before," Sans mumbled to Papyrus with an amused, lazy roll of his eyes. In any case, the mood of the two girls seemed a sign for good news. He spoke up a little louder, "how was the trip to the vet?"

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Papyrus giggled at Sans' comment.

“Ehhh....” Denise crossed her arms and glared off to the side in irritation. “It would've been great if it weren't for my ex begging me to take him back.”

“Ex?” Papyrus echoed, looking up inquisitively at his girlfriend. “I didn't know you had a boyfriend before.”

“Believe me, I wish I didn't. Chris is so desperately clingy. He tried to give me a discount, then offered to heal Angel for free, if I went on a date with him.”

“Wowie, he does sound rather desperate for your affection.”

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"Yeah, it wasn't a pretty sight ... but he did get Angel patched up, so she should be more stable now!"

"heh ... looks like the poor thing's still sleepin'. geeze, i might join her soon...."

"Chris said to let her rest as long as she needs, so we probably should let her wake on her own."

Sans gave Papyrus a squeeze. "...well, tori's expecting an explanation, so i'd better go give her one. will you be okay, bro?" he asked softly. Sans knew Papyrus was concerned about him, but the smaller skeleton knew none of this had been easy on his brother either.

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“I'm more concerned about you to be honest,” the younger skeleton admitted. “But yes, I'll be fine. If you need any help with any explanation, just let me know and I'll be there faster than you can say deter—” He stopped himself, remembering the little panic attack Sans got the last time he used that word. “E-er.... F-faster than you can say spaghetti!”

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Chuckling weakly, Sans glanced away with a nod. "don't ... don't fret about me, pap." His pupils flicked up to look at him again. "you've already helped me plenty." Sliding off the couch, he picked up his milky tea, giving his brother a soft smile. "love ya, bro." Then he headed to Toriel's room, knocking on the door. "hey, tori, it's just me."

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“I love you, too, Sans. Good luck.” He flashed a supportive smile at his brother as he left the room.

Toriel opened the door and smiled softly down at Sans. “Hello, dear. Are you here to explain what happened? I just want to let you know beforehand that I am not angry, so please do not feel the need to walk on eggshells around me.”

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Sans hadn't really thought she was, but he felt himself relax more anyway. "heh, thanks, that's ... nice to know, actually." He gently brushed her fingers with his own as he passed, sitting on the floor at the foot of the bed.

"the thing is ... even if i wanna tell you everything, it might be ... difficult. i-it's ... where angel and i were specifically ... it doesn't technically ... exist. pap and me and the humans went to the underground 'cause denise and frisk wanted to see if we could find any more skeleton monsters down there. and ... there's something about my and pap's past ... something to do with probably our dad, something that was ripped away from time so that it technically never happened."

"i ... i know there's too many 'technicallys' here already, but i-it's hard for me to wrap my mind around and the more i try to understand it anyway, the more aggressively ... it tries to make me forget. th-that whole event's already a blur.... but anyway, it was there waiting for us, i suppose 'cause of who we were lookin' for, and i, uh, teleported us away from the danger. angel followed us and when you called, i went to look for her and she was in that non-existent place, already wounded, so i went in to find her."

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Toriel nodded slowly, looking puzzled and startled. “...I see. Well ... I suppose a lot of strange things can happen to a place full of discharged magic. I'm afraid I do not entirely understand, but I do know you would never lie to me. Just.... Whatever you plan to do next, be careful. I do not like to bring this up and I'm sorry for this, but.... You said Angel was attacked down there. She was almost killed, but if-if it were you who were attacked....” She didn't say anymore on the subject, lowering her gaze to her lap and tearing up a bit. “J-just be more c-careful, dear....”

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Sans gulped down the rest of his tea, playing with his fingers. "gh ... believe me, this is the sort of thing i'd love to study and research and experiment with to help everyone understand it better, but i'm not about to endanger anyone for curiosity's sake. ...a-and i know, tori...." He knew he was lucky. He had been completely vulnerable, and yet Angel's attacker hadn't touched him. If he'd died there, would anyone even remember him? Rising to his feet, he hugged the goat monster gently, looking up at her. "i know...."

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The boss monster hugged the smaller monster back, falling to her knees and burying her face into his hoodie as her shoulders quaked with silent weeps.

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"hey, it's okay...." He moved a hand up to tenderly pet her head for a little while, then gently grabbed one of her paws, maneuvering it to his cheek, nuzzling and kissing at it. "i'm here, tori, i'm not gonna be reckless. heh, a guy like me knows better...."

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“I-I.... I know. I was j-just scared.... I don't w-want to lose anyone else ever ag-gain....” She sniffled and wiped her tears away with her other paw before nuzzling Sans.

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He held her close, fingers gently clutching into her fur. She deserved someone stronger than him. Someone she wouldn't have to worry about after suffering the losses she had. And Sans couldn't promise his own safety. Between Flowey and the Void, he was walking on the edge of a knife. "i love you so much, tori. i-i'll do my best for you, okay?"

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“That's all I can ask from you, d-dear. Thank you.” Toriel finished wiping her tears away and smiled gently down at him. “There was something else I had wanted to ask of you. If we aren't too busy, would you still like to spend some time together tomorrow like we both agreed on?”

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He softly grinned at her. "of course, tori, i've been achin' to spend more time with you...."

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“Good, I'm glad. But why don't you and the others take the rest of the day to wind back down? You've clearly had a very stressful day.”

A sudden knocking at the door caught the two monsters’ attention. “Sans? Are you in there?” The voice belonged to Papyrus.

“Yes, he is. Can we help you, Papyrus?”

“Angel's awake and ... she's saying some rather disturbing stuff. Even Flowey's listening to what she has to say in the living room.”

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"oh, geeze, we better get down there!" Hurrying to the door, Sans followed Papyrus downstairs with his empty cup.

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Denise was sitting on the couch stroking a frantic Angel in her lap, Frisk sitting next to her and Flowey perched on the coffee table. She looked up when she spotted Papyrus coming back with Sans. “Come over here, you need to hear this. Angel, tell us everything you know.”

“I.... I....” Angel was trembling violently in the older human’s lap, her amber eyes wide with fear. “I saw... a non-monster.... She looked like Frisk, but…. B-but they had r-red eyes, and they were g-green and yellow ... a-and they had a kn-kn-knife!... They…. Th-they…!” The kitten buried her face in her paws, mewling in despair.

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Sans's pupils flickered out, his hollow stare directed at Frisk’s pale face as memories flashed of the little girl wielding the knife — of her killing everyone—! No ... no, that hadn't happened....

Angel's description of her attacker didn't match the visions he'd seen. …But, another memory sparked. The note he'd written to himself. Green and yellow were a danger to Papyrus. He'd assumed it just meant Flowey, but the way he'd phrased it always seemed odd to him. He could vaguely recall their conversation in that doomed timeline, his brother had dreamed of a figure in green and yellow with a knife....

And hadn't he had the same dream — just from a different perspective — even before...? He heavily winced, his skull beginning to pound.

Slowly reaching trembling fingers, he softly stroked around her ears. "i'm so sorry that happened to you, angel...."

Flowey was quiet, intently hanging on her every word. How had Chara survived? Did she have determination powers too? But if Angel compared her to Frisk, that meant she was still a child — at least in body. Yes, he'd been disillusioned somewhat by Frisk's appearance, but only because ... seeing his sibling again was such a strong desire. Surely, Chara wouldn't hide from him for so long? Had she just awoken? Was she still who she used to be?

Flowey knew of Chara's more ... violent tendencies — and her affinity for knives — but she had only been trying to creep him out, he'd thought. And maybe some accidents happened, one in particular that inspired their plan.... And she was certainly aggressive when they had shared a body that fateful day. But she hadn't outright stabbed someone before. That he knew about, anyway.

Nevertheless, he'd taken her philosophy to heart, becoming more and more aggressive and violent in his own right until he convinced himself it didn't matter anyway — that death and murder had no meaning. It became a game of cause and effect, a means to satisfy his curiosity. To manipulate and spur unique events.

He wasn't sure what it meant to Chara. And that ... unsettled even him.

"Did she say anything to you?" he asked.

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Angel leaned into Sans' hand when he pet her and looked at Flowey, trembling violently. She couldn’t help but wonder how he could have assumed the human’s gender. “She.... She said.... ‘She will pay….’ I-I don't know who she was t-talking about.... I-I don't have a-anything she w-wants from m-me!...” She buried her face in Denise’s lap and mewled like a lost kitten.

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"hey...," Sans started soothingly, stroking along her back. "i'm sure she's got nothin' against ya, it was just, uh...." A stab in the dark. Sans grimaced at himself. "an unlucky circumstance. it doesn't sound like you're her real target, and we're all gonna keep you safe from anything like that happening ever again."

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“O-okay....”

“Wait a minute,” Papyrus suddenly said, realization dawning on him. “I think I might know what she's talking about! Sometimes I have nightmares of a little human girl wearing green and yellow holding a knife. I'd try to befriend her, but then.... Then she'd ... erm....” He wrapped a hand around the back of his neck and gulped. “N-never mind.”

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Sans looked up at Papyrus with anxious eyes, putting a comforting hand on him. He wished his brother didn't have to remember such a horrible dream ... but perhaps it was for the better. "please, pap ... you're so kind, and i know you always look for the good in people, but please ... stay away from this human if you see her," he begged.

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“But ... I know she can be good. Who would be evil for no reason?” He couldn’t help a glance at Flowey, then sighed heavily. “Alright, I'll stay away from her....”

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Flowey briefly shot Papyrus a sharp-toothed grin in return.

"th-thanks, bro." Sans felt a bit of relief wash over him. "you don't know how much that eases my mind...." He turned back to the kitten, smiling gently. "you take it easy, all right, cutie? heh ... hey, tori, can't we overlook angel's punishment just for now? i think she should have a little somethin' nice for bein' so brave."

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Toriel glanced down at the kitten in question. “Well.... While she shouldn't have been going off on her own in the first place, I do agree with you. Her punishment shall be lifted until she's in good health.”

“Thank you….” Angel closed her eyes and fell asleep again.

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Sans gave Toriel a grateful look as he gave the kitten a gentle parting pet. "mm, i think angel has the right idea ... might just go curl up somewhere...."

Seeing he wouldn't be getting any further insight for now, Flowey nudged Frisk. "All right, I guess you could put me back on the windowsill now."

Frisk nodded, carrying him there. "Is it who you mistook me for?" she inquired in a whisper.

Flowey narrowed his eyes, frowning at her, but finally relented an answer. "I think so. But I don't know what she's up to, so don't hound me about it."

The little girl stared down at the floor, still holding onto the flowerpot. “...But how could they have seen her in their dreams if—”

“I don’t know! And you should just shut up if you know what’s good for you!”

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“I'm ready for a nap myself,” Denise yawned with a stretch.

“How about you all take a nap to restore your energy, and I will make Shepherd's pie tonight,” Toriel offered.

“Wowie, that sounds delicious, Lady Toriel!” Papyrus exclaimed with an excited grin.

“Aww, thank you, Papyrus! So, I'm assuming you and Denise are both going to be sleeping in Sans' room from now on?”

Papyrus and Denise both blushed heavily. “Wh-wha?!...”

“I’ve been married for a good while, and I'm currently dating Sans. I think I can tell two people are in love when I see it, don't you? Congratulations, my dears.”

“U-Uhh.... Th-thanks, Ms. Toriel!” Denise stammered.

“Of course! Come along, sugar skull!” Picking Sans up, Toriel cradled him in her arms. As she walked to her room, she whispered to him with a giggle. “Which sounds like a better ship name to you? Denirus or Papynise?”

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Sans felt so warm and comfortable in Toriel's arms, already half-asleep, about to mumble an amused reply, when suddenly her earlier words caught up with him and his sockets snapped wide open. "wait. they were both sleeping in my room!?"

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“Hehe! That they were, just last night! I heard them from my room — I do have rather big ears after all — and they were so shy, it was quite amusing and adorable to listen to. I knew the two had a thing for each other before even they did.”

----

Sans glanced away, conflicted. Of course, he wanted nothing more than to lightheartedly tease his brother about it, but ... hadn't they said they only got that final push to tell each other their feelings after his jab at them this morning? And crawling into bed with his crush didn't sound like something Papyrus would do on a whim.

Was ... Papyrus being harassed at night? It was a good move to hide in plain sight — in the blissful ignorance of the others. But considering all that had happened between Angel and Flowey, and the conditional 'game' Flowey had in store for his brother and him ... well, the SOULless creature didn't like to be ignored.

And he knew Papyrus was going to shoulder as much of the burden as possible to spare him. He hated how much Flowey was taking advantage of that fact. His sockets panged, SOUL aching, and Sans did his best not to start weeping.

----

Toriel walked into her room and tucked Sans in her bed. “There we go! Snug as a bug in a— ...Sans? Are you alright?” She noticed Sans looking a little more down than usual. “Is it something about Papyrus and Denise? I suppose it would be difficult watching your little brother growing up after having protected and cherished him like a child all your life.” She smiled empathetically and stroked his head.

----

A small, selfish part of him was affected like she said, but he really was ecstatic about the two of them. He closed his eyes, leaning needily into her touch. It was useless to lie to her, and he didn't want to anyway. "i ... it's just been such a long day already ... i h-have a lot on my mind...."

----

“I understand. Would you like for me to stay with you for a bit? Just until you fall asleep? I have no trouble at all doing so.” She lovingly caressed his cheeks and rubbed his back, nuzzling him softly all the while.

----

"h-hmm~ if you wouldn't mind, i-it's comforting with you here," he agreed, smiling and sighing as she pampered him. And geeze, that feels so nice.... His SOUL lit in a glow, faintly shining through the center of his galaxy shirt. "thanks, tori, i love you."

----

“I love you too, sugar skull. Now, which would you like from me? A shoulder and foot massage, a back rub, or a backbone tickle? Or would you like all three, or perhaps something else? Whichever you choose, I am perfectly fine with it.”

----

Everything she said sounded heavenly. "oh geeze, do what you like with me, tori, i'm all yours," he responded with a blush that he didn't bother hiding, gazing up at her fondly.

----

“Oh, are you now?” She smirked playfully with a mischievous glint in her eyes as she grabbed a hold of one of Sans' ankles and began rubbing his sole with her thumbs, occasionally scratching gently with her claws.

----

He squirmed at her look with a shiver of anticipation. The massage over his foot bones was incredibly relaxing, though the soft brush of her fur kept him slightly on edge, a squeal building up inside him that broke free when she used her claws. "heeeee~hehee! h-hehmmhm! m-mmm~ mhmhmm...." If not for the firm hold on his ankle, he was sure he wouldn't be able to hold still for her with those deadly ticklish things.

----

“Oh? Whatever is wrong, dear? I'm just giving you a massage.” Pretending to be oblivious to the situation, struggling to hold back a giggle, Toriel massaged and softly scratched his toes.

----

"heheheee! mm-hmhmm~ n-nothin', i-it's n-nihice...!" he played along. But was it really playing if it was true? His fingers lightly clawed into the bed, toes curling and twitching. "kkh~hmmhaha! m~mm~hmm...."

----

“Oh?” She stopped to look at his toes. “It seems you have a bit of dirt between your toes. Allow me to brush it out for you, dear.” She smiled and giggled as she stroked the fur on her fingers between the phalanges, gently prying them apart with her other hand to better brush between them.

----

Sans involuntarily jerked on his ankle, his other leg curling up as far it it could go. "ghh—heeehee~! ahaa, o-oho no, plehease!" he squirmed and rocked, giving the mattress an even pummeling with both fists. "eeeeeehee! ahee c-can gehet ihit mysehelf! d-don't goho t-to the t-trohouble! hahaaa~!"

----

“Oh, don't be silly, it's no trouble at all! However, it seems my fur won't help much.... Perhaps this will instead.” She started to lick and nibble his toes, all the while lightly trailing her nails up and down his foot at a leisurely pace.

----

"hh—hahaaaahaaa! noho no, nahaat thahat! ahahaa~ee—! heheheee! gaha—! ihit tihickles!" He couldn't help a few thrashes, the combination of tongue and claws really did make it feel like his foot was under a vicious attack — not that it wasn't.

----

“I believe I got it, hehehe! Now, let's have a look at the other one.” Toriel grabbed his other ankle, letting go of the first, and started stroking her fingers between his toes.

----

"hehehee~aaaahahaaha! nono! hahaaa! noho, staaahaap! ee~heeheeheeeee~!" Now she had him all worked up and he clutched at his skull with a long, shrill squeal, arching, his first set of toes still ringing with tingles.

----

Toriel spotted that Sans' torso was now unprotected, and with a devious bleat of laughter she pounced, wiggling her fingers under his arms. “Gotcha! Hehehee!”

----

"ahaa~eeeeeek~khh—!" Sans's eyes briefly opened wide, arms snapping down to his sides far too late. "eeeehee~! nahahaa! oh gahaha—! plehehease!" Cachinnating squeakily, he weakly clutched at her forearms. "ihit's so t-t-tihihicklish...! ahahaaaa~!"

----

“Oh, my stars, you are still too adorable for your own good!” She nuzzled the hem of his shirt up with her broad muzzle so she could blow fluffy raspberries on his spine and ribs, still scratching his underarms.

----

"ee~noho! nononooaaaaahahahahaaaaiiieheeee—!" Head turned to the side, he was briefly paralyzed by the radiating ticklish sensations. "ahee...! ahehe c-cahan't ta~heehee~ke it!" Reflexes kicking back in, he wriggled and pushed against her — though that would have no effect even at full strength.

----

“Okay, okay, I'll have mercy!” Laughing, Toriel stopped tickling and retreated her paws and muzzle. “I'm so sorry for getting carried away, I just adore your laughter and I figured you needed to a little. Are you alright?”

----

"hehehee...~" Opening slightly watering sockets, his expression softened to one of adoration, SOUL glimmering. "yeah, i'm all right ... still a bit tingly, heheh...." He dared to raise an arm up again, cupping her cheek and stroking with a thumb. "thanks, tori, i do like to laugh, heh. glad you get somethin' outta it too."

----

She leaned into the affection with a happy hum. “I did. Oh, how I love you so.” Her own SOUL began to glow brightly through her dress, nearly in sync with Sans'.

----

"i love you too, toriel ... geeze, you're so beautiful...," he murmured, petting her until his hand dropped from exhaustion. He nestled close to her, closing his eyes, soon falling asleep.

----

“Thank you, dear. And you're very handsome.” She nuzzled him gently as he fell asleep, then quietly left him to rest, heading off to the kitchen to begin preparing for dinner.

#Undertale #Ticklish Shenanigans #Main Story #Sans #Papyrus #Flowey #Frisk #Toriel #Angel #Denise

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omniswords · 3 years

Text

Chronicles of a Parisian Dumbass 17

Happy Chronicles day, everyone! I’m so happy I got to put some more work in this weekend, and I can’t believe I’m in the home stretch of actually writing everything out, gosh…

anyway, I hope you enjoy this update!

from: itsdjbubbles

bro??? what HAPPENED?

to: itsdjbubbles

it’s… a long story.

The problem isn’t that Mr. Dupain drives Luka back to the Liberty . Actually, that’s the cool part. Or, as close as he can get to “cool,” given the circumstances. He’s never been in a delivery van before—he’s only ever delivered by bicycle—and it’s nice to see Paris as a soundproof blur, especially to the rhythm Mr. Dupain taps out on the steering wheel. He spends most of the ride with a sandwich bag of ice on his knee, studying the postcard Marinette handed him just before she hopped in the back seat. Because she insisted.

(The postcard complements the flyer perfectly. She really does know what she’s doing. He shouldn't be surprised.)

Marinette doesn’t tell him exactly who is going to kill her, but she doesn’t have to. It’s, uncomfortably, all over her face as soon as they pull up to the bank of the Seine, where Juleka is waiting for him. As Marinette climbs to take his place in the front seat, she gives him a tight smile. The kind that tries with all its might to be kind. The kind that tries with all its might to cover something up.

Luka’s eyes narrow. “Are you… okay?”

The smile never leaves her face; in fact, it seems like it’s trying even harder to stay. Her gaze drifts just past him, then flickers down to where he’s shifted all his weight to his good leg. “I think I should be the one asking you that.”

“Marinette…”

She gives him a little wave goodbye before pulling the door shut, and Luka swears he can see traces of some sudden fatigue through the tinted glass of the passenger window.

Juleka’s expression is just as muted when he hobbles over to her. “Come on, dumbass,” she says, slinging his arm over her shoulder. “You can tell me all about it inside.”

That’s the nice thing about Juleka, at least: she puts the people she loves first, always. Sometimes even in spite of herself. It seems like she and Marinette are similar that way.

“So,” he says, even as she all but dumps him on the couch. “How long am I gonna be in the middle of, uh.” He gestures vaguely with the hand that hurts less. “Whatever’s going on here?”

“I dunno,” Juleka shoots back with a shrug, already looking for an ice pack. “How long am I gonna be in the middle?”

Well. She kind of has a point. “Sorry.”

“No, I…” She sighs, “I’m sorry. It’s just… weird. I can’t even ask if you get it because, duh, of course you don’t.”

Luka studies his nails. “They’re looking kinda chipped, y’know?”

“Sounds like you just want me to wait on you hand and foot.” Juleka sinks onto the couch, carefully resting the ice pack on his knee. For a while, she doesn’t say anything else, simply focuses on where his leg is propped up and occasionally on his nails. Once, her gaze darts over to the postcard still in his hand, and then it flicks away almost immediately, as if maybe it shouldn't have lingered there. Before long, she sits back, still not looking at him, and says, “Why are you doing this, Luka?”

It’s vague enough that Luka doesn’t feel entirely stupid for asking, “Doing what?”

To her credit, she doesn’t give him the look that says the Lord is testing her. But then, neither of them really totally believes in a Lord, anyway. “All this… Marinette stuff.”

It’s the first time he’s heard Juleka say her name. It doesn’t sound as bitter or scared as he thought. Just… hesitant. For all he doesn’t know, it still checks out. “I thought you were cool with it?”

“I mean, I am,” she says, but it doesn’t feel as relieving as it should. “I don’t wanna get in the way of… whatever’s going on. It's your thing, so it's your business.”

“I don’t think you’re in the way,” He pauses. “But… I wasn’t totally joking about the whole ‘caught in the middle’ thing. I don’t want—I don’t wanna try anymore if you’re just gonna get more uncomfortable with it because of…” A shrug. “Whatever’s going on. Or went on.”

“No offense,” Juleka quips back, “but it doesn’t seem like that mattered much when you started talking to that Bubbles guy.”

“You’re upset about the gig.”

“I’m not upset about the gig, I just—” This close, Luka can see nearly every muscle in her body go tight; she must feel vulnerable, because she bolts to her feet and makes for the fridge to start on dinner. “You kind of cornered me with this shit,” she says, once she’s got some distance on him. “It felt like, yeah, I could say no, but I’d be an awful person if I did. An awful… sister.” She pauses only to tie her hair up and out of her eyes; it’s nice, how mature she looks when she wears it that way. Or maybe it’s just her words getting to him. “That’s why it bothered me so much when you kept insisting you weren’t doing it to impress her. And maybe you don’t think you are, but… all the stuff you’re doing isn’t exactly convincing me otherwise.”

She’s staring at the postcard now, allowing herself to, as if it might prove her point, and... well, Luka can’t entirely refute it. “D’you wanna cancel it? “he asks. “Call a meeting?”

Juleka shakes her head, wrinkling her nose when the end of her ponytail tickles her face. “We’re already in this. Might as well keep going.”

“I mean... “ He gestures toward his leg. “We have an out.”

“Unless you’re planning on doing some sick-nasty knee-guitar playing like Jimi Hendrix or something, I think you’ll be fine.”

“I don’t think Jimi Hendrix ever played with his knee,” Luka scoffs, wincing when a few pots clang together as Julie’s trying to wrestle are out. He wishes he could help; it’d actually beat picking the rest of the polish off his nails and feeling out the way his knee won’t stop throbbing. “Would… you still feel like this if it were somebody else?”

Juleka pauses; Luka was sort of hoping it would tell him more than it actually does. “I mean… yeah, I guess? Maybe just… not as much.”

“Will you ever tell me what happened? Between you two?” He probably shouldn’t ask. He definitely shouldn’t ask. But somehow, he doesn’t really regret it. And he doesn’t regret it, either, when he adds, “Do you… hate her? Secretly? Or something?”

The stove clicks to life, and Juleka shakes her head even as she’s rummaging through the cupboards. “Nah,” she says, hollow though she sounds. “I don’t hate her. But I guess I wouldn’t be surprised if it were the other way around. I’d probably deserve it.”

Luka doesn’t know what stings more: that Marinette could ever be capable of hating anyone, or that anyone could ever be capable of hating his baby sister. Or that she could ever think that she deserved it.

Then Marinette’s words ring in his ear again—why would you ever think that you deserve any pain?— and his thoughts die away. He’s got no leg to stand on, literally or figuratively. Or maybe it’s that if he can think that Juleka’s good and deserving, then he can think the same of himself, someday. Or someone else can think the same of him. someday.

But “someday” and “maybe” feel like nothing more than a spark that’s gone as quickly as it arrived, and Luka can’t be bothered to stick around and find out when—if—it’ll ever burst into flames.

“Look,” Juleka says over the cooking. “I’ll cut you a deal. You stop throwing yourself, and Kitty Section, into all these new ideas just so you can impress or get close to Marinette... and I’ll figure out how to tell you what happened. All right?”

She doesn’t have to do this; she’s made her point already, no matter how much his own curiosity is getting to him. But he knows how she gets when she’s set on something, because it’s practically in their blood. He holds his tongue and nods dumbly, trying to work his knee through the scrape and the swelling. It still throbs and stings in protest, though not as badly as before. He’ll try not to push it—by which he means he’ll be up and at it again tomorrow, just… hobbling instead of sprinting.

“What’re you gonna tell Ma?” Juleka asks.

“Easy.” He smiles, half-satisfied, and slumps back. “I fell for someone.”

“I cannot stand you.”

“Then sit,” Luka says, and he makes a grab for his phone.

to: itsdjbubbles just got plenty of time to practice before the 29th, huh?

from: itsdjbubbles man, you’re ridiculous

to: itsdjbubbles i’m surprised you didn’t figure that out sooner.

#miraculous ladybug #lukanette #luka couffaine #marinette dupain cheng #juleka couffaine #fic: chronicles of a parisian dumbass #AWWWWW YEAHHHHHH SIBLING SHIT

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sondepoch · 3 years

Text

Chapter 4

Hearts on Three (Satan x Reader)

The athlete and the nerd. The rich kid and the scholarship student. The girl who will constantly joke about breaking your knee caps and the boy who will actually do it. There are so many ways to describe your relationship with Satan. Too many, if you’re being honest. He’s your best friend. The smartest tutor you’ve ever had. He also spends thousands of dollars for you at the drop of a hat and holds your hand when you’re feeling down. And in the beginning, that's okay. Neither of you let yourselves get bogged down by labels, both of you content to just savor this newfound friendship. But deeper feelings always have a way of complicating things. And for better or for worse, you and Satan are no exception.

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | ✎

MASTERLIST

“Bro, you good?”

Satan blinks the sleep from his eyes at the feeling of a pencil tapping against his shoulder, groggily turning to face the owner of the voice that tore him from his precious slumber.

“...bwha?” is the educated response Satan can come up with in his sleep-addled mind.

Solomon snorts.

“Dude, this is the third time you’ve fallen asleep in class this week.” The white-haired athlete grins. “Keep this up and I’m gonna score better than you on tomorrow’s test.”

“We have a…”

Satan groans inwardly. He has a test tomorrow? The blonde blinks up at the board. It takes a second for his vision to clear, but then it registers that he’s in math class, and everything else falls into place. A quick scan over the whiteboard confirms that Satan didn’t miss anything important, that the chapter the teacher is covering is something Satan taught himself roughly two years back, but the boy still groans to himself in frustration. He doesn’t like to sleep through class. Ever.

“Thanks for waking me up,” Satan mumbles to his friend when he glances at the clock. It seems that Solomon let him doze for nearly the entire period, opting to wake him up a mere minute before the bell should ring.

“No problem. But seriously, I’ve never seen you slack this hard. You good?”

“I’m fine. I’m just tired because…” Satan trails off, hesitant to confess that the reason he’s so exhausted is because of you. No doubt, Solomon would read way too deeply into that—nope, wait, it looks like Solomon figured it out on his own from the shit-eating grin he’s now sporting.

“Ah, your future girlfriend, is it?” Solomon leans back in his chair, grinning. “The love life is rough, buddy. Make sure you’re using protection at night, though.”

Satan has never been more relieved to hear a bell ring.

“Would you lower your voice?” He growls when a couple of kids passing by give him weird looks. Satan glares hard at Solomon, but the latter gives a grand total of zero (0) shits.

“Sorry,” Solomon says in a voice that makes it all too clear that he’s not sorry.

Satan has never hated his schedule more than in the next moment when he realizes that Solomon is in his next class and that they can’t split ways. Worse yet, it’s Physical Education—the stupidest course of all time because all it consists of is kids walking in circles for an entire hour and being “encouraged” to run. And somehow, to top it off, Satan always ends up walking with Solomon.

“We’re not together,” Satan grunts to his friend when they’re outside doing laps around the track. “It’s just that it’s fucking hard to balance club duties, her volleyball schedule, and my own studies.”

“I totally get it,” Solomon blurts. “But you’ve gotta get used to it, bro. Imagine how much harder it’s gonna be to when the two of you start dating! You’ll have to take her out on dates, and—fuck—have you ever been to one of her games? She has crazy stamina, man. The two of you’ll be at it all night.”

Satan thinks back to freshman orientation, wondering why, of all the places to sit, he chose the seat next to the most annoying person in the entire academy.

“Solomon, can you shut the fuck up?”

Solomon, unsurprisingly, does not shut the fuck up.

With enough difficulty, Satan does finally manage to steer the topic away from Solomon’s matchmaking attempts and towards more normal topics. Namely, Satan’s matchmaking attempts. Of course, just as Satan places no weight on Solomon’s opinions on his love life, Solomon completely ignores Satan’s advice to stop beating around the bush and just ask Asmo out, the athlete having the nerve to say “I’ll ask Asmo out when you ask our volleyball captain out”—as if you and Satan have a remotely similar history to Asmo and Solomon, who, as now known by the entire campus, are both desperately pining for each other but are too dumb to see it.

Satan sighs, shaking his head.

Idiots, he thinks. I’m surrounded by idiots.

It’s to this thought that Satan hears someone calling his name in the distance: an extremely familiar voice, almost grating on the ears, but a voice he knows he should not be hearing.

Satan shakes his head, deciding that he’ll clear up his schedule today so he gets a nap in because surely, surely he must be imagining you calling his voice. Surely you’re not actually on this track field. Surely you’re not cutting English, of all courses, a subject that Satan insists you pay extra attention to because it’s the single course you're most likely to fail.

“Bro,” Solomon whispers, eyebrows raised in disbelief.

Satan closes his eyes, trying to see if pretending that he doesn’t hear your footsteps sprinting closer and closer towards him will make it so that they’re not real.

It doesn’t work.

“Satan!” You shriek, now close enough that he can’t pretend you’re a figment of his imagination anymore. “Satan! Satan, Satan, Satan!”

The blonde continues staring resolutely forward, committing himself to the ideology of I do not see it, therefore it is not happening.

Unfortunately, Satan sees it. And so it happens.

Without any warning whatsoever, you lurch forward and grapple on to Satan, wrapping your limbs around him like a literal koala as you yeet yourself onto him with enough force that Satan is just barely able to remain standing when you attach yourself to him while shrieking: ”Satan! Guess what, guess what!”

The blonde is at a loss for words, so dumbfounded and taken aback that it’s all he can do to sputter out a confused “w-what?”

You grin at him with a smile so wide it looks like it hurts, and Satan can only stare as you reveal what made you so happy.

“I got an 85 on the Shakespeare test!”

The Shakespeare test, the man thinks, trying to remember.

The Shakespeare test, he repeats in his mind, a vision of you cram-reading the final acts of King Lear flashing through his mind

The Shakespeare test! Satan realizes with a start, suddenly recalling how it was a test he expected you to fail.

Satan’s mouth drops open at that. He had been prepared for you to get a 20, a 30; the highest you told him to expect was a 60, and even that was below the fail margin, but an 85? Holy shit, Satan might cry if he got a grade like that, but for you, it’s a genuine accomplishment, and he’s fucking proud.

“You’re joking,” he blurts, already calculating how this will affect your average and, holy shit, it’s actually going to pull you up to a passing grade.

“I’m not!” you declare with so much happiness that it’s infectious, and then the two of you are hugging and laughing except that Satan’s literally carrying you so it’s awkward, but neither of you care because this is the highest grade you’ve pulled all year, and Satan is finally beginning to feel like the late hours and the sleepless nights are all worth it.

The two of you are grinning and beaming at each other even when you finally de-koala yourself from Satan and land on the ground; and it’s at this precise moment that Satan realizes just how many people are watching.

The blonde clears his throat awkwardly.

It felt so natural when you tackled Satan midair, but he’s now beginning to realize just how intimate that whole scene looked to any onlookers. He stiffens, and you seem to notice, your own demeanor turning sheepish in turn.

A low whistle from next to you diffuses the situation.

“An 85, huh?” Solomon slings an arm around your shoulder, sandwiching you between him and Satan as the three of you continue walking along the track field—effectively sending a message to anyone watching that the show is over. “Not bad, Captain, not bad.”

“It’s amazing, Solomon!” you cry out in turn, grinning as you lean into his shoulder. (Satan doesn’t feel weird when he sees that, he swears he doesn’t.) “I haven’t scored this high since, well, I dunno. I don’t really pay attention to the scores I get because they’re always so low!”

Solomon laughs at that, definitely remembering when he was the same way.

“It’s all thanks to Satan, no?” Solomon prods, and the blonde shoots a sharp look at his friend. He’s up to something. Satan isn’t sure if he wants to know what.

“Oh, definitely! He literally read every single text out loud to me! I left this one book for the very last day, and he actually stayed with me and—”

“You need to get back to class,” Satan swiftly interrupts, his ears turning red. “You did well on one test, but you need to pay attention if you want to continue.”

“Oh, but—”

Satan practically shoves you away, gesturing wildly the whole time with a vigor that has you confused but compliant as you slowly depart, doubtlessly making your way back to the English building as slowly as you possibly can.

When you’re gone, Solomon snorts.

“You read to her?” He asks, expression brimming with mirth.

“It’s not—it’s an effective studying technique that we use to save time—”

“Oh my god,” Solomon mumbles under his breath, wiping a tear of mirth from his eye. “Next thing you know, I’ll find out that she’s sleeping on your shoulder or something. Seriously, Satan, way to make a move early on.”

Satan is incredibly grateful that Solomon doesn’t see how his face changes at that part, a flush rising on his cheeks when he realizes that you’ve fallen asleep on his shoulder not once, now, but several times.

“Shut up,” Satan grumbles, trying to end the conversation as quickly as possible.

“No way, man!” Solomon cackles with laughter, finding great amusement in his friend’s frustration. “Oh my god, the two of you are so perfect for each other that it hurts! Here, take a look at this—”

Solomon pulls up his phone and opens up his Photo Gallery, swiping twice before handing it over to Satan.

“Just look at that, dude—” he gestures vaguely at the picture. “You two already look like you’re dating.”

Satan stares at the image, his feet slowing down. It’s a picture of you and Satan hugging, taken conveniently when you were still koala-ing Satan with your entire body because of course Solomon was able to get a picture that quickly, and although Satan can’t see either of your faces due to the side angle, even he has to acknowledge that the two of you really do look like a couple.

“It’s not like that,” Satan mumbles, shaking his head as he hands the phone back to Solomon.

This might be the first time, though, that he actually entertains the thought of what it would be if it was like that.

It’s not a terrible thought.

You hate away-scrimmages for a lot of reasons.

The first reason is that, more often than not, the environment is hostile. The other team is always bound to have more support, more cheering, more motivation powering them forward while yours has nothing more than the girls on the bench and the loud voice of your coach.

The second reason is that they always feel like a waste of time. Scrimmages, by nature, are meant to be an extension of practice. So what’s the point of a scrimmage if you spend more time driving to the school than you spend playing against the school? It’s totally backwards, in your opinion, and pretty stupid.

The third reason is the most compelling reason, though. And it’s probably because this is the issue you’re dealing with right now: the fact that at away-scrimmages, if there does happen to be someone from your school who puts in the time and effort to come watch, the pressure on your shoulders instantly triples. Scrimmages are supposed to be fun, enjoyable. They’re nothing more than practice matches to collect data and get ready for when you’ll go against the school for real—but when people from your school travel such a long distance to watch you play not even a game but a scrimmage, it feels like you owe it to them to bring home a win, to succeed, to make the match worth their while.

And while Satan doubtlessly had no intentions of adding to your stress when he asked to watch you play at today's scrimmage, that’s exactly what has happened.

“Listen, girls,” your voice is low as your team groups up in what will likely be the last huddle of the match. “I want us to win this. Really badly. Do what it takes, but bring home that victory.” You take a moment to recite the weaknesses of the other team, trying to downplay their skill and build confidence in your own teammates, but ultimately, you all know the truth. “It all comes down to how we play this point, girls, so let’s play our best.”

You glance around at your teammates, stealing a glance at the bleachers where Satan sits, watching the scrimmage.

You want to make him proud.

“Wolves on three: one, two, three—”

“Wolves!” your teammates echo, raising their fists as the lot of you split off into your serve receive positions.

As it stands, match point is weighing against you, and your team is at a heavy disadvantage. From what you’ve gathered on the opposing team, their libero is a literal legend when it comes to front row saves, and they have an amazing right-side hitter, one that easily rivals your own skill. This entire game, their team has been leading, but all your team needs to secure victory is a measly three points, three points that you know you can obtain if you try hard enough.

You crouch low, getting ready for the opposing team’s serve.

The first two points are easy for your team to get: the first point comes when the opposing team’s outside hitter rams the ball into the net, and the second comes when your team's right-side hitter manages a clean hit through a line of defense that jumped a second too late.

The final point, as always, is the hardest to get.

It just so happens that it’s your serve, so you consciously aim at what you think is the weakest link in the opposing team, but they’re able to recover. From then on, it’s an intense volley back and forth until it’s just you versus the right-side hitter, #18, the two of you fighting it out in a rhythmic contest of pass-set-hit that just won’t end.

It’s at this time that you feel the pressure beating down on you heavier than ever before. More than anything, you want to win. Not just because you’re naturally competitive, not just because you really fucking hate #18 right now (seriously, what business does she have being as good as you?), but because you know that Satan is watching.

You really, really, really want to bring home a win for him.

It’s to this thought that you set the ball over on the first touch, sabotaging the flow of the game and ruining the other team’s momentum.

It happens in slow motion as the ball falls, slowly, slowly.

The entire room seems to hold its breath as three girls on the opposing team, #18 included, all pancake-dive for the ball. Sensing their success, you bend your knees, preparing for the ball’s return.

It never comes.

The blow of the ref’s whistle is surreal, almost as faraway as the subsequent cheers of your own team, so empty and distant as they instantly group up for a team tackle—but for the first time, you don’t join them.

Instead, you’re left staring up at Satan who, from his spot on the bleachers, is grinning down at you with a proud look on his face.

You don’t think you’ve ever been so happy to win a scrimmage.

Everything else passes by in a blur. Your team regroups and changes out of your uniforms, and the lot of you board the bus that’s set to bring you back to the Royal Academy of Barbatos.

You, however, stay back.

“I’ll get a ride from my tutor,” you tell your coach, bidding farewell to your friends.

The man arches an eyebrow at you, asking once and then twice if you’re certain you don’t want to stay with the team, but you nod your head.

Weird, you think as you go to find Satan, who’s waiting for you at his car. This must be the first time I’ve prioritized someone else over the team.

You decide not to dwell on that thought.

Instead, you choose to think about how sick Satan’s ride is.

“Oh my god,” you mumble, gawking as soon as you see the car. “Satan, I knew you were loaded, but I had no clue you were this loaded.”

Satan laughs at your reaction, grinning when you can do nothing but stand and stare at the sheer beauty of it: a slick, black Bugatti with a single green stripe down the middle.

“Oh, it’s beautiful,” you coo, marveling at the interior when you slide into the passenger seat and slug your volleyball bag unceremoniously in the back. “Satan, I think I like this car better than I like you.”

The blonde gives a short laugh, rolling his eyes as he gets inside next to you. “I’ll let you drive it someday,” he offers.

You’re quick to decline, shuddering to think about how many more sports scholarships you’d need to ever pay such a thing off if you were to crash it.

Satan can only smile at that, mumbling something under his breath that you can’t hear.

“Your match was amazing, by the way,” he says before you can probe him about what he said. “It looked really intense. It’s impressive that you were able to keep a level head even at the end.”

You don’t tell Satan that your head wasn’t level, that you were practically dizzy with fear from the possibility of losing in front of him.

“It comes with practice,” you instead choose to say. “Something we’ve gotta do tonight!”

“Please tell me you’re joking.”

You shoot Satan an innocent smile in response.

“Your match lasted a good hour, and I saw you practicing with your team before your bus left.” Satan shakes his head, a frown beginning to spread across his lips. “You’re going to destroy your muscles if you try to do any more. Even you need to rest.”

“Yeah, but resting is boring.” You lean back in your seat and stare at your palms. “Besides, that scrimmage was way too close for comfort. Didn’t you see number eighteen? She was, like, really good. If both our teams make it to the state tournament, we’re going to have a lot of trouble dealing with her unless we practice like crazy until then.”

“Exactly,” Satan says. “Your team needs to practice, not you. The best thing you can do for them is relax and make sure you don’t overexert yourself.”

“But don't you want to reward me for getting a good grade on my Shakespeare test?” A smile curls onto your lips because you know that's something Satan has been thinking about. “Come on, just a few balls? It’ll be quick, I promise. I just want to try a few moves out.”

Satan lets out an exasperated sigh that lets you know he’s agreeing.

“Yes!” You exclaim, resisting the urge to jump out of your seat and hug him because he probably won't be as inclined to help you if you make him crash his car. “Thank you so much, Satan! I won’t be long, I promise!”

The blonde doesn’t say anything to that, sighing softly as he switches his destination from the student parking lot to the on-campus gym you usually conduct your practice sessions in. It takes a while, but when the two of you get there, the spot Satan pulls into is far from the doors. It's a necessity since all the other spots are taken, but it makes you raise an eyebrow because this is the first time you’ve seen this gym even remotely filled up.

You nudge Satan out of his car regardless.

“Alright, so today I want you to make my tosses higher than normal. Number eighteen was taller than me, so I’ll need to increase my jump height if I want to be able to break past her defense.” You pull him to the door, wasting no time to get inside. “And don’t worry if your tosses aren’t perfect! It’ll be good practice for...for when…”

Your train of thought is disrupted when you see how packed the gym is.

“Damn,” Satan mumbles next to you, frowning.

There must be some kind of athletic event coming up. That's the only explanation you can think of for the picture in front of you. As it stands, there are tons of students inside this gym, everyone practicing their own sport. It’s ridiculous, honestly, because even sports that are traditionally outdoors are practicing inside. You can see Solomon leading his soccer team through a few drills on the far side of the court, taking up one half of one of the six nets set up in the gym.

“They must be here because it’s so muddy outside. All the outdoor sports are practicing inside.” Satan crosses his arms. “Let’s come back tomorrow. You’re not going to be able to get an effective practice in.”

“No!” you immediately exclaim, if only because you see a group of people setting up to leave. “Look, we can take that side of the court. Let’s go! I don’t want someone else to get there first.”

It’s a bit harder to find a spare cart of volleyballs than it was to find a spot to practice, but after checking enough supply rooms, you finally find what you’re looking for. After that, it takes you all of two minutes to wheel the cart over to Satan where you present your findings to him proudly.

“Shouldn’t you stretch first?” He frowns. “I don’t want you to get injured.”

“Come on, Satan. I just came back from a match! My muscles are all loosened up, so let’s get straight into it! The faster we can get this done, the faster we can return to the dorm, so let’s hurry!”

The boy doesn’t look wholly convinced, but he acquiesces to your request nonetheless, throwing you a toss higher than usual as you jump to slam it down.

It’s only once the two of you have returned to your usual rhythm that you begin to feel the stretch in your thighs, and for a moment, you stop to consider the fact that it might have been better if you’d stretched after all, but you ultimately decide that you’ve already started so there’s no point in stopping.

The practice whizzes by, as usual. It's almost pitiful how quickly the end of it nears.

“Three more balls,” Satan says, glancing at the number of balls left in the cart. “Then we go back, alright?”

“Sure thing!” you exclaim with pride, the familiar sense of satisfaction after a practice session well-done setting in.

Satan tosses you the third-last ball, and your feet begin following it as soon as it leaves his fingers. Your feet follow a familiar pattern—left, right, left, jump!—and you force yourself to put in a little bit of extra power to increase the height of your jump, letting your palm collide with the ball just a few inches beneath the peak of the arc to let it slam onto the court at an angle so steep that even a reinforced defense wouldn’t have been able to save it.

“Perfect!” you shout the moment your feet land on the floor. “Two more like that, and we’re set!”

Even Satan can’t hold off a smile at that.

Already in-tune with you, he doesn’t bother asking if you’re ready before throwing the next ball into the air.

Again, you go through the motions that have been ingrained into your muscle memory since you were eight years old. The sting of pain against your palm is familiar, too familiar, and you’re still high in your jump when the ball spikes down onto the floor.

What isn’t familiar is the immediate calls of concern from across the court.

Everything seems to happen in slow motion.

You turn your head to the source of the noise, the loud group of soccer players who are on the far side of the gym and are all shouting to watch out. You stare at them in confusion for a moment, squinting to look for what they're all pointing at, because right now you don’t see anything to watch out for, and why—

Your eyebrows furrow.

Why are they all looking at you?

That thought is the only warning you get before your feet land—and the first thing you realize is that you landed way too early, that you should have been in the air for longer given the height of your jump. That’s when you realize that you haven’t landed, that your foot is instead twisting on top of a soccer ball that’s rolled directly underneath you.

Your hands go out to catch yourself when you fall, but there’s nothing you can do about the swell of pain that bursts from your ankle when the soccer ball pops out from underneath you.

There’s a moment of trepidation, a single second where your body is completely suspended in the air, and the gym is silent.

In that quiet moment, you hear Satan call out your name in a terrified voice.

Then, the ground collides with you and hard, and there’s nothing you can do as the pain you’d been feeling earlier blossoms out from all parts of your body.

MASTERLIST

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | ✎

Word count: 4.2k

Notes: ive returneddd :D this chapter is dedicated to the vball captain who, in my freshman year of high school, injured herself. her injury was more dramatic, given that it was way more severe and it was during an important match, but irene, i carry you in my heart <3

Comment & Like

Thank you for reading <3

I do not own the rights to Obey Me! or any of the characters within it.

#Word count: 4.2k #obey me! shall we date?#satan x reader #obey me satan #obey me solomon #reader has personality #volleyball athlete reader #slice of life #friendship #friends to best friends to lovers #human au #high school au #college au #slow burn #extremely slow slow burn #requited feelings #crushes #gonna be *wholesome*#mild swearing

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the-writer-nerd-ro · 3 years

Text

Part 1 of my HDL birthday fic. The other part will be out in the next few days

Birthday Plans

D: Any fun plans for today?

It was seven in the morning and Dewey was sitting in the cockpit of the Sunchaser on his birthday. Della was bringing coffee but Dewey was still a little tired. There was a different kind of tiredness that had settled in his bones as he thought about spending his birthday away from his brothers. He didn’t expect either of them to be awake but he thought he would shoot them a text before he started flying.

H: I wish. I have a bunch of tests tomorrow so I have to study all day today. But tomorrow after my tests, my friends and I are going out for belated birthday drinks.

D: Tell the bartender it’s your birthday and get free belated birthday drinks

H: I’m not going to lie, it’s against the JWG

D: You’re 24. You’re not a Junior Woodchuck anymore.

H: You’re right.

H: I’m a Senior Woodchuck.

L: Do you guys ever sleep???

D: It’s 7 AM

L: Yeah, it’s 7 AM, you should be asleep

D: What are your plans today, Lou?

L: Boyd is visiting after I get off work and we’re going to spend the rest of the day together

H: Aww, adorable.

D: Sappy

L: Anyway, what are you doing today, Dewdrop?

D: Doing a flight with mom and then cake with some of the fam later

H: Have fun, eat a slice of cake for me.

D: Will do

L: Your present should be in the mail. Yours too, Hue.

D: You didn’t have to get me anything

L: Yeah, but I feel bad that we can’t be together today. It feels weird.

D: It does feel weird

H: I miss you guys

Dewey set down his phone, blinking back tears. He hadn’t wanted to get emotional this morning but he was having a hard time holding it together if Huey was throwing around, “I miss you,” and Louie was commenting on how weird things were.

To avoid addressing his emotions Dewey found a gif of a dancing baby that said happy birthday. That was enough to start a gif chain that moved them away from heavy emotions.

“You okay, sweetheart?” Della asked, offering her son a cup of coffee, and taking in his bummed-out expression.

“Yeah, just texting Huey and Louie.”

Della nodded somberly, “It’s hard being apart from them, isn’t it?”

Dewey was trying his hardest not to get choked up.

“I shouldn’t be so dramatic. They’re just a few hours away, and we’re meeting up in a couple of weeks after Huey’s done with finals.”

“But today’s your birthday. It’s okay if you miss them extra hard today. Your feelings are valid.”

“It’s our first birthday apart,” Dewey whispered.

“I know how hard that can be,” Dell said, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

“Mom? Does it get easier?”

“A little. But the time apart makes the time together so much better. And you get to do one barrel roll in the Sunchaser on your birthday.”

“I should get to do 24 barrel rolls because it’s my 24th birthday.”

“Don’t push it, buddy.”

Huey had a coffee and an English muffin (toasted, lightly buttered) and was one flashcard away from a breakdown. He was exhausted, which was not the way you wanted to spend your 24th Birthday.

Everything was always happening all at once. Huey probably wouldn’t have remembered it was his birthday until Dewey had texted him earlier. He’d fussed about lying to an imaginary bartender but had had no qualms lying to his brothers. There were no friends taking him out for belated birthday drinks. No one here knew him intimately enough to know his birthday.

Texts would roll in all day from the family and friends who he desperately missed, wishing him a pleasant day and asking him about his fabricated plans. He was almost in tears every time he furthered this delusion that he had people here, that he was not just a loser alone on his birthday. How pathetic would that be? When Dewey was with their family and Louie was with his boyfriend. Huey’s chest ached about the fact he was the only one alone.

Fenton was the only one who called him out on his lie.

F: What’re you doing for your birthday, Huey?

H: I have to study today but I’m getting drinks with some friends tomorrow.

F: Oh, nice.

F: So you finally made some friends over there?

Huey wished that he hadn’t ranted to his mentor about how incredibly difficult it was to find time to make friends.

H: ...No

F: So who are you drinking with?

H: Nobody

F: Drinking alone, then? Maybe call a car to get home.

H: I’m not drinking alone

F: So you just lied to me?

H: Not just you?

Fenton stopped responding for a few minutes and Huey felt devastated. He hadn’t wanted to lie to his loved ones but he hadn’t wanted them to pity him either. And now he had to deal with guilt on top of all the exhaustion.

F: So you’re all alone on your birthday?

H: I guess I am

F: I see why you wouldn’t want to talk about that

F: But you didn’t need to lie

H: It’s too late now, I already told everyone that I’d be drinking with friends tomorrow.

F: Well, I don’t have any plans tomorrow. Team Science reunion?

H: Team Science reunion

Huey felt a bit better about his birthday, grateful that Fenton had reached out. He still missed his brothers though. He decided to text them both one more time today before he went back to studying, though he decided to text them separately this time.

H: Have a safe flight, Dewey.

D: Thanks, bro. Good luck studying

H: Thanks

He decided to text Louie later since he’d been tired and he wasn’t fun to talk to when he was tired. And then, swamped with studying, he promptly forgot until dinner.

H: Hey! I hope you had a good day at work and that you and Boyd have fun today. A responsible amount of fun.

L: Lol I’ll tell Boyd that the arson is canceled

H: No arson, but you could still probably make S’mores. Boyd’s really good at that.

L: I get it, you’re both Senior Woodchucks. Hey, do something nice for yourself today, okay? Don’t just study yourself to death.

H: ...Okay. Thanks, Lou

“Who’re you texting?” Boyd asked, already making himself comfortable on Louie’s couch.

“Huey. He told us to have fun. And to not commit arson.”

“I wasn’t gonna commit arson on purpose, were you going to commit arson?”

“Well, it’s my birthday, and you did bring cupcakes and candles.”

“Mm, those are more fun if you blow them out instead of letting them burn. How’s Huey doing anyway? Fenton just texted me about him.”

“I’m afraid he’s overworking himself,” Louie admitted, “But that’s just Huey’s nature. I'm not especially surprised.”

"That's the vibe I got too. Fenton asked me if I wanted to go get drinks with him and Huey tomorrow so that he doesn't have to be alone."

“Whoa,” Louie said, eyes widening.

“What?”

“Huey must’ve lied about having plans with his school friends tomorrow.”

“Aw. Well, you would’ve done the same thing. Huey probably just didn’t want you guys to worry. A classic Louie move.”

Louie frowned deeply.

"Hey, babe, do you ever get the sense you're doing the wrong thing?"

"Elaborate?"

"Well, I took this internship, to you know, pull myself up by my bootstraps. Be my own person."

"I'm really proud of you for that."

"Yeah, well… Being my own person sucks. I've always been one in a set of three. And it feels like recently someone ripped the "Do not separate" sticker off and I hate it."

"Hm… Do you want to come and get drinks with me tomorrow?"

"Getting wasted won't help. I've tried and alcohol doesn't fill that hole."

"I know, I've carried you home before. But I mean do you want to go get drinks with me and your brother? We could surprise Huey."

"Hey… That's not such a bad idea. I need to make a call."

“I’ll light your cupcakes on fire,” Boyd said cheerfully.

“No fair, starting the arson without me,” Louie laughed, as he pulled up the texts from the morning and tapping on Dewey’s number.

“Oh, hey! Hey, Louie, hold on, guys Louie’s on the phone, we gotta sing again!”

Louie laughed, cringing a little in anticipation of the awkwardness as his family began a staticky and muffled rendition of Happy Birthday.

“Thanks, guys, means a lot to me. Dewey, can I talk to you for a moment?”

“Sure, sure, let me just step outside,” A moment later Dewey’s voice came back, “What’s up?”

“Are you busy tomorrow?”

“Uh, not sure, why?”

“Well, it seems like Hubert lied about his birthday plans. Apparently, there were never any friends he was gonna go drinking with, so Fenton decided to drop by and he wanted to bring Boyd and Boyd thought it was a good idea if I tagged along. So what if we surprise Huey? He’s been working really hard at med school- hell, we’ve all been working really hard. What do you say?”

Dewey was silent for a minute and then Louie heard a laugh (Or was it a sob?) on the other end.

“Man, I’ve missed you guys so much. I’d love to do that. Let’s set something up, mm-kay?”

“Yeah. Boyd! Text Fenton and tell him that me and Dewey are gonna come surprise Huey, we’ll figure it out from there.”

“Okee dokee,” Boyd said cheerfully, putting an alarming amount of candles (probably 24) in one cupcake.

“I have to go, Dewey, I’m afraid that Boyd is about to set my apartment on fire without me, but I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow! Enjoy your fire hazard and your boyfriend.”

“Those are the same thing, Dewey.”

“Then enjoy your fire boyfriend. Boyfire? I dunno.”

“He is pretty fire, isn’t he? Bye, Dewey.”

“Bye!”

“Boyd if you light that you’ll coat that cupcake in so much wax it’ll be disgusting and that’s just a waste of a good cupcake.”

“Then I’ll eat that one. I’m an android I’m not as picky about what is and isn’t cupcake.”

“Sometimes, fortunately not often but sometimes, you remind me so much of Dewey that it’s terrifying.”

“Do you still love me?” Boyd asked, squinting a little and laser lighting the candles. As Louie had assumed it quickly became a soupy, fiery mess.

“More than words can express,” Louie said, capturing Boyd’s lips in a kiss after extinguishing the cupcake.

“Did you make a wish, baby?” Boyd asked, holding Louie close by the hips.

“I don’t need to, everything is going to be okay. In fact, I think that everything is going to be… Perfect.”

“Happy Birthday…”

#ducktales 2017 #ducktales fanfic #aged up hdlw #hdl #happy birthday hdl #huey dewey and louie #louyd #huey duck #dewey duck #louie duck #della duck #fenton crackshell cabrera #boyd gearloose

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nightshadedawn · 3 years

Text

Persona 5 Royal Playthrough pt3

I ended up going through two Palaces before I could update y’all. Oh well.

...Yeah, no, quit calling me Miss Special Snowflake's boyfriend. It's not happening.

Ryuji, Morgana, and Yusuke having a conversation in the laundromat: "It's like he's our mom," says Ryuji... the mom friend.

Every time Morgana is like "I have to turn into a human so no one else can have Lady Ann!" then expects no one else to hear him makes me laugh. Like, bitch, no.

I have the restaurant in my Thieves Den 'cause I like it. Yusuke, Ryuji, and Morgana are there. They're so precious.

I got a three in a row Tycoon on cutthroat!!!

Ryuji and Ann just keep going "Shoulda figured" and other versions of the statement every time I win.

Ann just rejected Morgana's feelings HARD. I am happy.

Ryuji is too good, honestly. Why would anyone not like him? He's... He's always trying to build the team up, make them proud of themselves and what they've done. I will admit that he has his moments of being not a great human, but they're teenagers who were given absurd powers, so honestly, can you blame them?

I didn't know darts was an actual minigame! There's so many minigames. I'm so happy.

I don't like Akechi. I don't know why some people do. Like, his death scene was a bit... too late for a redemption for me, right after he tried to kill Joker, several times. His pain is understandable, but still... I can't.

Their "two sides of the same coin" also doesn't seem particularly fair. It's totally uneven in everything but color schemes.

Guys, GUYS, please, PLEASE decide whether you're going to react to my teasing or not.

"We don't have to deal with them directly," Ryuji says joyfully about the mafia. Oh you sweet, sweet, innocent child, if only you knew what I do.

I literally can't play this game around anyone else because I tend to yell "BABY!" to Ryuji, Ann, and Yusuke and "BITCH" or "FUCKER" to... a rather long list of villains in this game... and Makoto.

I can literally feel Yusuke's anxiety about his painting when you take him to Leblanc to see Sayuri.

How can you say Yusuke isn't gay when he says everything I do is beautiful?

I love Ryuji's 9th social link. It's LITERALLY written like a confession scene. This also means I kinda hate it because... I can't date him.

Also... PRETTY BOY RYUJI PRETTY BOY RYUJI PRETTY BOY RYUJI

I actually kinda thought that the new scene for Ryuji being a crossdresser is kinda funny??? Is this bad??? I wanna see him in a dress, tho. I gotta agree, he'd be a natural. Not the like, painfully obviously not taking it seriously from the dancing game, though.

Though I do think it's valid that he freaks out when two strange adults come up to him and try to take him somewhere, especially in a place known for being shady, and at night.

...When Ryuji complains about it, I do feel bad about ditching him. Then again, I blame the cat.

Ryuji may be my ideal type on paper, but I'm also highly attracted to Yusuke and this is so totally unfair.

*softly chanting* butlers butlers butlers butlers

Don't mind me just... *makes meticulous plot to avoid having Makoto join the team that i may or may not write a fanfic about*

Makoto is one dumbass bitch. Like, honestly, there's nothing she does that's in any way remotely smart.

...I thought I'd just skip Makoto's scenes until she became relevant, but here I am, still skipping her scenes. Does that mean she’s still irreleveant?

"Witch" I suggest, and Makoto complains! "Would you prefer "Bitch"? I can use that too.

I put Yusuke on the team in the middle of the palace through settings, replacing Morgana, who had been standing right behind me. Which made Yusuke stand right behind me. It looked like he was holding onto my waist and standing uncomfortably close. Bro, babe, I love you, but not in front of my boyfriend and girlfriend!

Just accept the compliment, guys, I'm not going to compliment Queen.

...Opening chests with Ann or Ryuji is just so sweet because they're so affectionate and touchy feely. Especially Ryuji.

Math. Fucking. Sucks. I should not have to use math in a game. I hate this. Obviously it's the Palace Makoto comes in that this happened.

Well, I finished the Palace in a day. I love the feeling. But it was getting close there. Joker and Yusuke were down to no spells...

...Yoshizawa hasn't showed up yet. When is she getting shoehorned in?

WHY IS THE VELVET ROOM RED!?

My very first playthrough I didn't execute a single execution except for the first one we have to do. It really screwed me over my second playthrough...

...I broke the electric chair. That's certainly something that happened.

147 games of Tycoon later and I've only been a beggar 31 times in total, versus the pure thirty wins in just Cutthroat.

They're in their summer uniforms and it makes make miss warmer weather already. It's fucking snowing outside. Grrrr.

Beat Kaneshiro! ...Wasn't a fan of his new boss battle. I'm even playing on safe mode! But whatever.

Makoto is a DISASTER at Tycoon. She exclusively got beggar all three times I played with her!

...RYUJI YOU CAN'T SAY SHIT LIKE THAT AND NOT LET ME DATE YOU.

Ann, sweeties, baby, you're doing so well.

She confessed to me, then in the call afterwards it was basically insinuated I proposed... WHICH IS LIKE FUCK YEAH 'CAUSE SHE ACCEPTED IT.

It makes me think of the future conversation where they're talking about marriage.

Anyway, if you haven't noticed, l love Ann.

My next playthrough I'm not gong to date her, though. I'm a completionist and I want ALL of the possible awards. But... I refuse to cheat on Ann. So I'll date everyone else then just hang with Ryuji... despite how cringy some of the date things are.

...If Akechi wasn't, you know EVIL and tried to KILL ME, SEVERAL TIMES, I might, MIGHT, like him. But in truth, I think that's really just the Persona 5: Revival talking. We get... into some stuff during that.

I know that either Atlus or the translators know EXACTLY what goes on in the Persona fandom because otherwise "He's too pretty to be wrong" would not be an option when talking to the newspaper girl about Akechi. I have to agree with her that his looks aren't really, you know, awesome enough for that.

Also, I read it as "He's too petty to be wrong" at first and I think that's an accurate sum of his character.

YO AKECHI-FUCK I HAVE NO NEED TO SEE YOUR ASS LIKE THAT WHEN I HAVE BOTH A BF AND AND GF.

...fucker fucking giving me shit about my fake glasses...

If you COULD date the boy out of mod, Akechi would definitely be the one they were pushing you to date. Like Makoto. Or Yoshizawa.

But hey, at least I get to not be nice to him.

I remember seeing this picture where Ann, Ryuji, and Joker kept going to the movies together and seeing 3D movies, and Joker couldn't wear the 3D glasses properly because of his own. I keep imagining that picture during this event with Caroline and Justine.

You know what? Some people call Joker a loli lover because of them, but nope! He's just adopted two more siblings. That is my stance on it.

FUcking

Fucker

WHAT THE FRRRRRRRR

FUCK YOU ATULS OR TRANSLATORS OR WHATEVER

APHRODITE AND MARS ARE FROM TWO DIFFERENT MYTHOS. Aphrodite is GREEK, Mars is ROMAN. Their reversed are VENUS and ARES. USE ONE OR THE OTHER PEOPLE.

I get very pissed about this, and it's worse with Hades.

7/4 is the day I am screaming at, if you were wondering.

My dad asked me if the other students think Joker's stupid because every time I answer a question right they get all surprised.

I don't really like Makoto, as I'm sure you've noticed, but she was super nice about Ryuji's special move idea. And that put her ahead of Akechi in my book.

TESTS ARE NERVE WRACKING EVEN WHEN THEY'RE FICTIONAL

Yusuke and Ryuji are good boys, the best boys. And they're so awesome about their special move.

AND RYUJI OFFERED MONEY FOR YUSUKE'S FOOD. And implied that he did it before???? Ryuji, you best boy.

This boys' outing DOES make me happy, though. Like, insanely happy. Dunno why.

Maybe because Joker gets to be so flipping cheesy.

...fuck you, Yoshizawa.

HONESTLY WHAT THE EVER LOVING--- Grr. Too many choices while with her. Too many. OOC Joker when with her. 0/10.

I LOVE THE FESTIVAL PHOTO

And you know, it's really hard to choose between Lala-chan and Ann, but... GONNA TAKE ANN ON A DATE

Got her some flowers. Lets see if we can give them to her this time!

"Such a good FRIEND." Babe, we're DATING. For like, TWO WEEKS NOW.

AND I DIDN'T EVEN GET TO GIVE HER FLOWERS

Ann called Yusuke a pretty boy, but then she's missing out on the REAL pretty boy, Pretty Boy Ryuji.

Ryuji, why're you so worried about other girls when you've got ME?

"I like the shade." "What are you, moss!?" Oh, admit it, Ryuji, I'm growing on you.

Cargona. Snrk. Gods, I love you, Ryuji.

Dome town with Ryuji! "Isn't it all couples?" That's the point!

I COULD GIVE RYUJI THE ROSES!?

Sadly, I bought those for Ann. Ryuji, you get the noodles.

AND HE FUCKING LOVED IT.

"It feels like I really captured Ryuji's heart!" FUCK YEAH I DID

Gonna give Yusuke the bracelet when I get the chance.

Why is everyone color coded in the chat room? Kawakami, Akechi, Mishima, and the reporter are all ORANGE. What's the point? Well, Akechi's more of a golden orange, but close enough.

While Mishima is not my first choice for a date, he's definitely not my last.

...But the boy really needs some fucking sleep. He's not drawn with the bags under his eyes, but I can see them!

It's not fair that they give Akechi a kicked puppy sprite. I'm... goddamnit, they're trying to make me not hate him.

When Makoto doesn't know something, I'm brought great joy.

NO DAD MAKOTO IS NOT MY GIRLFRIEND ANN IS AND SHE IS LITERALLY R I G H T T H E R E

First day in Futaba's Palace! I've gotta say, this is my second favorite palace. Kamoshida, Futaba, Madarame, Sae, Okumura, Shido, Kaneshiro, Holy Grail. In that order. I HATE Kaneshiro's place and dealing with the Holy Grail. But whatevs, man. I love this game. (Vanilla, at least, this one is still on the fence)

I found out a cool little thing. On the uphill sand slopes in the town (don't know about anywhere else) if you're running and turn back quickly, Joker will do a little animation to steady himself. It was cool and made it seem, I dunno, more human? Anyway, while I was admiring this, Ryuji and Yusuke just stood at the top of the slope and Ann followed me while I was running. Best girlfriend ever.

Kin-Ki is looking pretty kin-ky if you know what I'm sayin'

Please don't murder me because I do terrible puns.

*we fall through the trap door* *Ryuji starts screaming* Same, baby, same.

...Makoto is seriously annoying. Like, she's got no business acting as familiar with Futaba's situation. The one who WOULD be the most familiar is Yusuke, and I'm glad he recognizes that. It's not the exact same, none of their stories are after all, but I feel like those two get each other better than even Ryuji and Joker understand each other.

Yusuke and Ryuji's special attack is THE BEST

Ryuji and Joker getting up close and personal in the shadows. All those fanfics coming true, man.

I thought Futaba was sloth, not wrath? Why are her Will Seeds called Wrath?

Beat it in one day! It's so satisfying to watch all those achievements when I leave the palace.

You know, I'm thinking of wearing the Christmas outfits for the final battle. Just to be kinda funny.

Spending a relaxing day with Yusuke after going through Futaba's Palace... kinda want to take him to the bathhouse to check out that new scene, but I also REALLY wanna feed the boy... gonna feed the boy.

Apparently I can only make 'decent curry.' Which is fine. Because "I" can't make curry at all. Joker, you've done much better than I.

THE DATE CHANGE SCREEN HAD A RAINBOW AND RYUJI WAS COMING OVER ON THE SAME DAY FUCK YEAH MY BISEXUAL BABY

...Broooooo, the way you talk about your manga is how I talk right before I start shipping.

Took him to the bathhouse, 'cause I don't gotta worry about Mama Sakamoto feeding him.

...Can I take Ann to the bathhouse?

Asked Ryuji to move in. He was all up for the idea until he remembered that I live in an attic.

I'm Charismatic now!

...I was all hoping Ann would stop by but then Akechi asked me out. Laaaaaaaame.

Ryuji's smile is so fucking cute.

...I say we just be honest, and everyone's so fucking stupid about it until Makoto explains it. This pisses me off. They're not that dumb... At least, they weren't until Makoto showed up.

Futaba's hiding in the closet. ...I've spent too many weeks making jokes about closets to not have a joke about it.

Really, Yusuke? You see those books and think she can't understand?

...Wait, that sassy tone of voice... You were TRYING to pull a reaction of her. I knew I shipped those two for a reason. OTP and BroTP. Doesn't matter, they're both awesome.

I love you Ann, but I don't think your situations were the same at all. It's not like both are valid and bad, but... different.

Joker is SO fast compared to the others, especially when he's speeding.

What the...

Holy fuck...

JOKER IS TOO EFFING COOL

THAT MOVE TO GET FROM THE ENTRANCE TO TO TREASURE DOOR? Awesome!

Damn, Joker has my heart too.

I kinda wish we could see Futaba's costumes in her Persona. That would be pretty neat.

The moment right before Wakaba appears is so aesthetically pleasing.

...Futaba being happy is almost enough for me to accept Maruki's offer, and I haven't gotten there yet.

Ryuji and Ann keep smacking each other out of their ailments. Like, you guys just love each other so much! It's awesome.

Joker has lackluster responses to Wakaba... I'm hoping that isn't one of those "Answer these wrong and you break her!" things... Not that I think I was, but still.

I liked Futaba's new animation for when she defied her mother.

I wish the anime looked more the cutscenes. I'm trying to rewatch the anime so I can pinpoint specific moments for future editing purposes, but it's kinda painful.

1- This is the SECOND TIME you've landed on Yusuke while running from trouble.

2- YUSUKE LET GO OF MY GIRL

No Makoto, I don't want to go see Futaba with you! I can go see her myself.

So, I like Takemi's new voice with her lines during this scene.

Sure, she collapses every so often and sleeps for a while. Stays like that for a few days. Sorry that I put her into a coma for a month, Boss...

SHE LOOKS SO CUTE WITHOUT GLASSES

Guys, we have a month. Stop worrying.

THE TWINS ARE SO CUTE WHILE HANGING ONTO THE BENCH PRESS

Damn, Joker's dying to the amusement of two little girls.

I'm kinda disappointed I didn't get results for all that training. But I liked the scene.

Yusuke just casually be lugging bigass paintings around.

Taking the girls to the church may have been one of the funnier moments. These cement them as Joker's little sisters. With Futaba. Damn, Joker, you got no brothers.

Yusuke promises to come by every day and we can tell him to take his clothes off. ATLUS, you have some EXPLAINING to DO.

..And Yusuke took it and ran with it. My sweet summer child, I don't think I could handle you in as little as possible on the day to day.

"The heat induced delirium made me think outside the box." Same.

Guts takes sooooooooooooo long to level up.

"Punish me more" he says, as if Takemi won't do it.

"Good god. Well, none of my medicine can cure THAT." AT LEAST WE'RE ALL ON THE SAME PAGE

BATHHOUSE WITH YUSUKE

Awe, he had fun. :)

#Persona 5 #akira kusuru #shuann #pegoryu #pegoryuann #persona 5 royal #yusuke kitagawa #ann takamaki #Ryuji Sakamoto #Pretty Boy Ryuji

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blackhakumen · 3 years

Text

Mini Fanfic #800: Starting the New Vacation Day (Super Smash Bros Ultimate)

10:12 a.m. at Isle Defino's Patio.......

Dark Pit: (Slams hie Hands On the Table) ('SLAM') Alright, dumbasses. Any of you got any ideas on what we're gonna do here today?

Pit: There's so many places to choose from.....I'm not even sure where go to first.

Yoshi: I spotted this cool looking ramen shop a few blocks from here. Maybe we can go there for lunch later.

Ryuji: (Smiles Softly) I'm down. Their ramen might be good. Maybe even better than Min-Min's.

Elsewhere in Isle Defino.....

Min-Min: (Let's Out a Sudden Sneeze) ('Chu')

Capt. Falcon: You alright there, Min?

Min-Min: (Quick Turns to Falcon) Oh. Uh yeah. I'm fine, Captain. I could've sworn felt a distrubence just now.....

Capt. Falcon: (Shrugs) Eh. Probably just the heat weather.

Min-Min: Maybe..........

Back to the Patio.....

Dark Pit: That's one place down. Anything else?

Yusuke: I, for one, plan on going to the beach side of this island to begin my new creation thoroughly.

Ryuji: (Gives Yusuke a Bit of a Playful Smirk on his Face) Gonna find more crabs to draw, my man?

Yusuke: Not quite I'm afraid. I am more interested in finding unique and rare forms of seashells if anything. (Turns to Tails) And it seems I might need your mechanic assistance on this, Tails.

Tails: (Smiles a Bit Sheepishly at the Inspired Young Artist) I....didn't really bring my tools here with me. So I can't really help you on a mechanical level. But I can buy you a metal detector if you want.

Yusuke: (Smiles Softly) That sounds like a good enough comparison. Many thanks, my two tailed friend.

Tails: (Giggles Softly While Blushing a Little) No problem, Yusuke.

???: Morning, peeps.

Ryuji: Hey, morning bro- (Eyes Suddenly Widened For a Brief Second Before Snickering at the Sight of Making his Way to the Table With Red Kiss Marks on his Face) Dude, is that really you?

Ren: (Seats Himself Down) In the flesh.

Dark Pit: (Sighs While Pinching his Nose) Alright. I'll bite. (Turns to Ren) Why are you covered in kiss marks?

Ren: Oh. Well, Makoto and I found out that today's Kiss Day earlier thos morning. So Makoto decided to pull on the red lipstick Ann brought her for her birthday a few months ago, and started kissing my face. (Smirks Softly at the Memory) Loved every minute of it too~

Pit: And you still have kiss marks on you.....why exactly?

Ren: (Shrugs) Eh. No real reason really. Just felt it showing it to the world a bit longer, you know? (Noticed the Gang is Staring at Him) What?

Yoshi: You know what we're gonna ask you now, right?

Everyone: WHY AREN'T YOU TWO MARRIED YET!!?

Ren: Hey! Come on! We will! Just in the near future, alright? We JUST graduated high school together.

Pit: I still wanna be a Ring Bearer!!

?????: Who's wedding are we talking about again?

Tails: (Turns and Sighs Once He Sees Sonic Sitting Next to Him With Having Pink Kiss Marks All Around his Face) Let me guess: Amy found out today's Kiss Day and kissed you like crazy?

Sonic: Yup. Mom and pa blurted it out on our double date yesterday and the rest was history.

Tails: (Smirks at Sonic Playfully) You enjoyed minute of it, didn't you?~

Sonic: (Sighs While Blushing) Yeah......(Smiles a Little While Slouching his Head Down a Little) That girl sure knows how to kiss a guy, you know?~

Tails: (Chuckles Lightly) I believe so, Mr. Lover Boy~

Sonic: Keep making fun of me and it'll be your turn soon enough, Tails (Starts Smirking Playfully Himself) And with a certain bandicoot girl nonetheless~

Tails: (Already Has a Deadpinned Look on his Face) How many times do I have to keep telling you people that we're JUST FRIENDS? There's no way Coco and I would ever participate in something like that.

Sonic: Okay....(Smirk Starts Growing a Bit Wider) But why did you let her kiss you under the mistletoe though?~

Tails: (Eyes Widened in Complete Shock) H-How did you.....

Sonic: Wave told Amy and I all about it when it all happened. (Gives Tails a Thumbs Up) And we already approved~

Tails: (Immediately Turns Away From Sonic While Blushing) S-Shut Up......

Morgana: (Sighs While Sitting Down on The Group's Table With Multi Color Kiss Marks (Pink, Blue, and Green) All Over His Face) Morning......

Ren: (Starts Snickering at Morgana Along With Ryuji and Pit) Damn, Mona. You too?

Morgana: Yeah. Me too. Once Futuba found out that today was Kiss Day, she SOMEHOW convinced Haru and Lavenza to kiss me. With different Lipstick colors!!

Ryuji: (Still Snickering) C'mon, cat. Look on the bright side. At least one of your kissers was a certain Velvet girl you've been crushing on~

Ren: (Teasingly Nodded in Agreement)

Morgana: (Glares at Ryuji) .......Ryuji. One of these days when I become human again and grow older, I will do everything in my power to suplex you into the ground.

Ryuji: (Chuckles Lightly) Cute threat, Mona, but uh...(Hold Both of his Arms Up While Showing Off his Muscles) ('Heh') I got bit stronger as of late. So might it take you a lot years before you even lift a finger on me, you know?

Morgana: ('Sighs in Defeat') Crap. You're right. It'll be too long if I waited.....Oh well. When all else fails, I can always kick you in shins.

Ryuji: (Glares at Morgana) Do it and I'll chase you to end the Earth, cat.

Morgana: (Glares at Ryuji) Wanna bet?

Ryuji: If you're up for it!

Dark Pit: Calm your asses down already. We still haven't decided what the first thing we should do here-

With the sound of two girls giggling with one another, the gang turns to see Ann and Shiho making their way to the table together while having kiss marks on each of their faces.

Ryuji: Geez....Even Ann and Shiho got into the holiday.....

Ren: Right?

Ann: Hey, guys. (Sit Herself Down Next to Shiho While Giggling Softly)) You're probably wondering why we're-

Ren: You two found out about Kiss Day is today. So it led to the both of you making out. Am I right?

Shiho: Wait. How did you- (Starts Snickering Once She Noticed the Kiss Marks on his Face) Did Makoto seriously kiss all over your face?~

Ren: (Smirks Proudly) Yep! It might be the most cutest thing she done so far~ Don't tell her I said that by the way.

Ann: ('Sigh') You know, Ren, it astounds me that you two have been acting like a married couple since since day one and yet neither of you STILL have proposal to one another yet!

Ren: Um. Does "We just graduated" doesn't ring you any bells, Takamaki? And besides, if anything, I'm surprised YOU TWO having proposal to one another yet. You already have apartment together and give each other pet names. Might as start now while you're ahead.

Ann: Oh trust me. Shiho and I WILL marry each other very soon and you are gonna be our best man.

Ren: (Eyes Widened a Little in Genuine Surprise) Oh shit. Really?

Ann: (Giggles Softly) Yes. Really. You're one of my best friends, Ren. I can't think of anyone else to fit that role better than you. Well, I mean, there's Ryuji, but.... I'm not sure if could take up the role that well. (Turns to Ryuji) No offense.

Ryuji: Eh. It's no problem. (Smiles Brightly at Ren) I totally see Ren being Best Man material lot more than I could.

Ren: Huh. Well, if that's really what you girls want....(Smiles Softly) I'd be happy to be your future Best Man.

Ann: (Squeals Happily While Pulling Ren into a Loving Hug) Thank you so much, Ren-Ren!~

Shiho: (Happily Joins into the Hug) You have no idea how happy you made us-

Pit: (Suddenly Slams the Table With Excitement) ('SLAM') I GOT IT!

Dark Pit: (Turns to Pit Along With Everyone Else) What is it, Pit-Stain?

Pit: I just thought of something we could do first! Souvenir shopping!

'Silence'

'Wave Sounds'

Yoshi: You.....got any ideas, Pit?

Pit: (Happily Nodded) Yep! We can go souvenir shopping together. All this talk about Kiss Day has really made me miss Viridi a lot more than before. (Smiles Brightly) So I wanna buy her souvenir gift we could enjoy, you know?

Ann: Awwwww~ Pit~ Of course we can go souvenir shopping together.

Shiho: (Smiles Softly) We can even help you pick something nice for her and everything.

Sonic: You ladies mind helping my little bro with that too. (Smirks Teasingly Again) He has a Bandicoot Girl back home to impress~

Tails: (Glares at Sonic While Blushing Again) D-Don't you ever shut up anymore, Sonic!? And besides, I already promised Yusuke that I would buy him that metal detector!

Yusuke: (Gives Tails a Reassuring Smile) Oh there's really no need for you to go to the trouble to buy it for me. I believe you should use it give your lady friend something nice.

Sonic: See? Yusuke's gets it.

Tails: ('Sighs in Defeat') Fine..... I'll buy her a souvenir. But NOT because I have a crush! She's my best friend and nothing more.

Sonic: Whatever you say, lil' bro.

Ryuji: (Turns to Morgana) Hey, Mona, maybe you should try souvenir shopping too. (Starts Smirking Again) Maybe something nice your Velvet girl~

Morgana: (Eye Starts Twitching Before Turning to Ren) Seriously. Can I PLEASE kick his shins already!?

Ren: No.

Ann: Be nice to Ryuji, Mona.

Mona: ('Ugh') Fine......

Yoshi: (Turns to Dark Pit) We should give it a shot, DP. You could buy something nice for your girlfriends back home.

Dark Pit: I don't know....There might be a possibility that they won't it.

Yoshi: Ah don't be like that. I'm sure they'll love anything you get for them. Even if isn't fancy like or whatever.

Dark Pit: Wait. How much souvenirs usually cost exactly?

Yoshi: (Shrugs) I dunno. Five to ten bucks maybe?

Dark Pit: (Shrugs as Well) Eh. Fuck it. I'm down.

Pit: Alright! All in favor of Souvenir Shopping say 'AYE'!

Everyone: 'AYE'

Happy Kiss! (Again!)

@keyenuta

@caleb13frede

@princekirijo

@26shann

@cyber-wildcat

@ma-lemons

@albion-93

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bittywitches · 4 years

Text

A random Dialogue I came up with in my head while trying to fall asleep the night before. // G.D

Been having trouble writing lately and ended up just daydreaming (night dreaming?) abt Grayson one night, so I thought I’d try and just get it out and write something. Enjoy :)

You’re sitting in your bedroom, laying on your back with your laptop sitting on your stomach. You’re cuddled up with your jumbo-oversized teddy bear, your head resting on it’s furry stomach and your elbows lazily resting against it’s fat squishy legs. A google doc is opened on your screen, and you’re trying to half-assedly write a response for your final project on why Duke Orsino actually was gay in Twelfth Night, along with many of the other supporting characters, despite what most old white bardolators may tell you.

You feel a vibration near your leg, and you tilt your head to the side to see someone calling your phone. You pick it up, and your eyes widen when you see that it's a facetime call from Grayson Dolan. This was, of course, a shock, considering you and Grayson weren’t even that close friends, you only occasionally texted each other anymore, barely ever called, and literally NEVER facetimed. You guys had barely spoken to each other since quarantine had started, so it was definitely a surprise.

Your eyes flicker to your laptop screen, seeing that it’s around 9pm. Not too late that it’s sketchy or anything, but still pretty late for it to be strange.

You place your laptop down beside you and situp, leaning back against your headboard, quickly tying your hair up into a quick messy bun to make yourself look somewhat presentable. You slide the green phone icon across your screen.

Grayson’s face appears on your phone. He’s wearing a cute oversized fuzzy hoodie. His short hair is a bit frizzy, and it still takes you by surprise because you’re so used to seeing his long flowy locks.

“Heyy,” Grayson says, smiling at you. From behind his screen, Grayson sets himself down onto the living room couch, laying back on the arm.

“Hey.” You respond.

“What’re you up to?”

“Uhh, not much. Just working on final assignments and whatnot.”

“Oh, yea, school’s almost over for you, right?”

“Yep, just a few more weeks.”

“Bet you’re excited to finally get time off.”

You chuckle. “Yeah, tired of being stressed all the time.”

“Makes sense.”

An awkward silence fills both your rooms.

“Soo…” Grayson lays his head on the side of his couch.

“What’s up? Why’d you call?” You ask him.

“Oh, no reason. Just bored and felt like talking to someone.”

“Ethan not home?”

“Nah, he went out skateboarding with some friends.”

“This late?”

“It’s not that late. Just went to the park nearby.”

“Sounds fun. You know, I’ve always wanted to learn how to skateboard.”

“Yea?”

“Mhm. Maybe E can teach me sometime.”

“Hey, I know how to skateboard too. And I’d definitely be a much better teacher.”

You laugh. “Alright, next time we meet up you can teach me how to skateboard.”

“It’s a date.”

You both give a lighthearted chuckle, but then things turn quiet again.

“Erm, hold on.” You place your phone down on your bed.

“Where’re you goin’?”

“Gonna put my phone on a pillow so I don’t have to keep holding it,” You say, grabbing your nearest one and doing your best to balance your phone on top of it.

“Is that a giant teddy bear?” From the angle of your phone, Grayson can see your big stuffed animal sitting behind you.

“Haha, yea.” You lean back down on it briefly to give him a better idea of the size. “He’s my cuddle buddy.”

“That’s cute.”

“Our relationship has gotten a lot stronger since quarantine started.” You peck the bear on the nose. Grayson laughs.

“I’m happy for you guys.” You giggle, sitting back up.

“Why thank you.” You turn your attention back to your laptop quickly, and Grayson follows your line of vision.

“So what subject is this final for?”

“English.” You sigh. “Which sucks, because I’m shit at it.”

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

“Oh but it is. I always do incredibly bad, I’m literally the worst.”

“Well you’re definitely not the worst, because I exist.”

“Well yeah but it’s not your fault that you can’t read.”

“Hey, I can read!”

“Sorry, It’s not your fault that you’re ass at reading. It is however my fault that I can’t write for shit.”

He laughs. “Fine, sure.”

You giggle. “Sorry. Just a bit stressed.”

“No big deal.”

Silence again. Usually now would be the time you’d make some excuse and cut the call. But for some reason unknown to you, you didn’t want to do that. You want to fill it.

“Oh, I watched your guys’ last video.” You raise an eyebrow at him. “Tell me you guys weren’t just trying to look like douchebags with your literal 100 grand.”

“Aughhh,” He groans, rubbing his face with the hand not holding his phone. “I swear we really weren’t.”

“Uhuh.”

“I realize that it may not look like that,”

“Oh really?”

“Considering we actually had wads of cash,”

“Mhmmm.”

“But we weren't, I swear. We just thought it’d be funny for a stupid little video.”

“Okay then.”

“Hey!”

“Not judging.”

“Since when do you watch our videos anyways?”

You gave him a side-look. “What do you mean? You think I don’t?”

He shrugs. “Dunno. Just assumed…”

“You’re my friend. ‘Course I do.”

He smiles.

“Plus they are pretty fun. Like to have them on in the background when I work sometimes..”

“No way, really?”

“Yeah, why not?”

“I mean, all the ones since quarantine we’ve had to be pretty creative with. Since we’re stuck at home and all.”

“You guys don’t give yourselves enough credit. I love what you come up with. It’s cool to just listen to you both ramble about stuff.”

“...Are you saying you also listen to the podcast?”

Your eyes shoot back to him. He was actually joking, but seeing your guilty expression lead to the smug sort of look on his face.

“You guys have very satisfying voices, okay?”

“Uhuh.”

“Shut the fuck up!” You laugh, and he does as well.

“Either way, thanks. It means a lot that you do. I never really know if people we’re friends with like our stuff, so it’s good to know that at least someone does.”

You smile, and he returns it.

You suddenly hear a ding coming from his side.

“Oh shit almost forgot about my toast-” You see Grayson’s phone wobble as he gets up to head for the kitchen.

“Avocado?”

“You know it.” “Dang, I don’t think I’ve had avocado toast since…” You pause. “Huh. I guess since I accidentally ran into you at that one restaurant and we happened to get food together.”

“What-” He rights the phone so it’s facing him again. “That was ages ago!”

“Yea, I know.”

“That’s unacceptable.”

“You may think so.”

“Alright, so after I teach you how to skateboard, I’m gonna have to take you out for food.”

You laugh. “Is that a set in stone thing?”

“Oh definitely.”

He sets his food down on a table, and you watch as he tries to balance his phone up against something. He sits down, then takes a bit before looking back up at you.

“So when’s this due?”

“Uhh, tomorrow night.”

“You almost done?”

“Er..” You look at your half written page. “...sort of.”

“So no,” he chuckles, and you do too.

“I’ll finish it, don’t worry.”

“Didn’t say I was.”

“Well that’s ru-”

“Because I know you’ll finish it,” He interrupts you, and you roll your eyes. “You always do.”

You sigh, setting your elbow down on your knee and resting your face on your hand. You watch him silently for a bit, and he takes a few more bites before realizing your eyes on him.

“What?” He says, food still in his mouth.

“Nothin’,”

“Yea?”

“Yea, just… kinda just miss you.” You finally blurt out.

He stops chewing suddenly, and looks at his phone with a very intent look. He expects you to say more, but you don’t, looking back at your laptop screen.

He swallows, then sets his toast down. “Kinda just miss you too.”

You smile, trying to hide it by squishing the palm of your hand into your face, not taking your eyes off of the illuminated laptop.

“Why don’t we hang out anymore?”

“Because we’re legally not allowed to.” You finally look back at your phone, grabbing it from it’s pillow stand and then flopping down onto your bear’s belly.

He rolls his eyes. “No, smartass. Before that.”

You shrug. “Dunno. We never really did to begin with.”

“Sure we did, there was the restaurant, and…” He trails off, looking far away at some corner of the room.

“I mean we hung out with other friends. And we talked sometimes.” You shrug again. “Not really much else though.”

He runs a hand through his short hair. “Why not?”

You laugh. “Bro, I don’t know! You never asked!”

“Well I fuckin wanted to!” He rubs his face with both his hands as he chuckles.

“Really?” Your laughter dies down now, a softer tone taking on your voice.

“Duh, of course.” He tilts his head as his soft eyes look at you. “You’re really fucking cool, and I really wanted to get to know you better, but it felt weird to just randomly come out of no where and be like ‘hey, wanna hang out?’ like that shit usually comes naturally, yknow?”

“Well, we don’t really hang out in the same circles, so I don’t know how it would.”

“Yeah, but I thought maybe…” He sighs. “I don’t know. I didn’t even know if you wanted to be friends or anything, so..”

“Well that’s frustrating.” You slump your shoulders down, relaxing more into your bed. “I really wanted to be friends. Just didn’t wanna seem fucking… annoying or anything.”

“Oh my god why are we like this.”

“I don’t fucking know!!” You both burst out laughing, and you momentarily drop your phone to rub the tears out of your eyes.

“Okay, it’s settled then.” You hear his voice and pick your phone up off your stomach to face it towards your face again, now sitting up.

“What is?”

“After quarantine and everything is over I’m definitely taking you out for food and skateboarding.”

You grin. “Okay. Sounds amazing.”

“Great.” There’s quiet again, but it’s not awkward anymore, both of your gleeful grins speak volumes over it.

“Okay.”

You giggle. “Okay, I should go. Should probably actually try and get this thing done.”

“Right. I’ll… call you tomorrow?”

You bite your tongue. “Yeah.”

“Okay, bye.”

“Bye.”

You cut the call, and let your arms fall down to your sides as you fall back on your bed and grin up at the ceiling. You squeeze your eyes shut, just breathing in and out to calm yourself down from the little rush. Though the buzz of your phone once again catches your attention.

You get up and look at it, seeing it’s a text from Grayson.

Grayson D.: Just realized you probably don’t have a skateboard…

You bit your lip, and flopped down onto your belly now, your legs up in the air as you text him back.

Y/N: You’d be right 😅

Your eyes eagerly watch the three dots bouncing on the screen.

Grayson D.: Would you wanna borrow one of mine?

Y/N: I’m totally good with getting my own, but idk where

Grayson D.: Well there’s this shop near my house…

Assignment long forgotten, you and Grayson end up talking well into the night.

#grayson dolan #grayson dolan fanfic #grayson dolan blurb #grayson dolan concept #grayson dolan imagine #grayson dolan x reader #dolan twins blurb #dolan twins fanfic #dolan twins concept #dolan twins imagine #ethan dolan #grayson dolan fanfiction #dolan twins

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queenofcats17 · 4 years

Text

Remember that HLVRAI Coraline AU? Here’s the thing I wrote for it.

Original idea came from me, @lady-lampblack, and @sbpstudios

This is also really old and I’m now finally finishing it. Some things have changed since the initial post because I had ideas.

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Joshua hadn’t wanted to move.

He’d liked his house and his friends and his school and hadn’t wanted to leave. But his dad had calmly explained that while he didn’t want to leave either, his new job was in another state. And while his dad hadn’t said it outright, Joshua knew money was tight. He’d heard his dad talking about not having enough money to keep the house when Gordon had thought Joshua was asleep.

Barney had offered to help, but Gordon had gently turned him down, pointing out that Barney had his own things to deal with. A security guard’s salary could only go so far and Gordon didn’t want Barney sacrificing his own health and safety just to help him.

So, they’d moved.

Joshua, his dad, and his dad’s roommate.

Joshua sat in the back of the moving truck, staring up at the ceiling while he listened to his dad and Benrey argue.

“We’re seriously not gonna have wi-fi for the whole weekend? That’s lame, dude.”

“Look, I couldn’t get anyone to come out any sooner. And it’s only for one weekend.”

“Lame, bro.”

“Well, I don’t know what you want me to do. That’s just how it’s gonna be.”

“Are there gonna be other kids at our new house?” Joshua asked, getting up so that he could look at Benrey and Gordon. Benrey was playing on his PSP while Gordon drove the moving truck.

Even if he had to move halfway across the country, maybe he could still manage to make some cool new friends.

“I dunno, bud,” Gordon admitted. “The landlord mentioned that he doesn’t usually rent to families with kids, so...probably not.”

“Oh.” Joshua’s face fell and he allowed himself to slump back onto the floor of the truck.

“I’m sorry, Joshie,” Gordon said, glancing back at his son.

Joshua said nothing. It wasn’t fair. The last time they’d moved, it had only been to another city, but it had still been hard. He’d been yanked away from his friend and had to make new friends. And now he’d have to make new friends all over again.

“You’ll still have us, little man,” Benrey said, looking over his shoulder at the little boy slumped on the floor.

“It’s not the same,” Joshua mumbled. “I wanna have friends my own age.”

“I know. I’m sorry, Joshie.”

Joshua said nothing else for the rest of the drive, curled up in a little ball.

Benrey and Gordon continued to talk off and on. Although it sounded like arguing, Joshua knew that was just the way the two of them were. They’d been this way for as long as he could remember. He knew his dad and Benrey cared a lot about each other, they’d lived together Joshua’s whole life after all, but neither of them seemed willing to admit it. Which made no sense to Joshua. He didn’t get why they didn’t just admit they liked each other. But then again, Joshua didn’t get a lot of stuff about grown-ups.

He ended up falling asleep, only being woken up by his father announcing that they were there. Yawning and rubbing his eyes, Joshua sat up and peered out the windshield. Immediately his eyes widened.

The building before them looked like something out of a historical drama, aside from the fact that it was all painted bright pink. It was massive, with what Joshua saw as towers, tons of windows, and a huge porch.

“That’s our house?” Joshua asked, his voice hushed in awe.

“Well, kind of,” Gordon said. “The house got converted into apartments a while ago, so we’re going to be living in one of the apartments.”

Joshua was briefly disappointed, but it didn’t last long. Apartments meant there would be other people, so he wouldn’t be alone. Plus, the house was in a wide open area so he could run around all he wanted.

“Can I look around?” Joshua asked, bouncing up and down. “I wanna look around!”

“Sure, just give me a second to find the landlord-”

But Joshua wasn’t listening. He’d heard ‘sure’ and had run with it, scrambling over the seat and Benrey to get out the door and onto the lawn.

He took off across the grass, eager to explore everything about the apartment complex. He’d never lived in an apartment in a house before! However, in his excitement, he failed to notice the man emerging from basement apartment. Before either knew what was happening, Joshua had plowed right into the man, knocking them both to the ground.

“Joshie!” Gordon yelled, running after him. “Don’t go running off like that!” He knelt down and helped the man up. “I’m so sorry.”

“It-It’s okay,” the man replied with a smile. “I wasn’t looking where I was go-going either.”

The man was tall, even to Gordon, which meant that he looked like a giant to Joshua. He was wearing what could only be called “dad clothes”, his attire consisting of a loud Hawaiian shirt, cargo shorts, and socks and sandals.

“You’re really tall,” Joshua announced.

The man blinked, then laughed. “I get that a lot.”

“So...do you live here?” Benrey asked, peering past Gordon.

“Not...exactly?” The man laughed again. “I-I’m the landlord.”

Gordon’s face went as pale as it was conceivably able to. Benrey put a hand on Gordon’s shoulder, squeezing it comfortingly.

“What’s a landlord?” Joshua asked loudly, still captivated by this strange man.

“It means he owns the building the apartments are in.” Gordon’s voice went up an octave. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Coolatta, I-”

“It’s alright,” the landlord cut him off with a reassuring smile. “And yo-you can call me Tommy.”

“Oh, uh, okay, Tommy?” Gordon laughed nervously. “It’s...Um...It’s nice to meet you?”

“You-You too.”

Joshua was getting bored sitting there. He wanted to keep running and exploring, not listen to the adults talk. So, he began to look around while his father and Tommy continued to talk.

Benrey stepped out from behind Gordon, hands shoved in the pockets of his sweatpants. “So, uh, Feetman said-”

“Don’t call me that in front of our landlord!” Gordon hissed, swatting at Benrey’s shoulder.

This didn’t seem to deter Benrey in the slightest as he kept going. “Feetman said you didn’t rent to people with kids. Why’d you let us in?”

"We-Well, you just seemed so desperate,” Tommy replied. “It did-didn’t feel right to turn you away.”

“Thank you again, Mr. Coo- Tommy,” Gordon quickly corrected himself. “I really appreciate you letting us rent here.”

“It’s no problem,” Tommy assured him.

“So, uh, how much do I owe you for the first month’s rent?” Gordon asked, digging out a notepad.

As the three adults began to hash out the first rent payment of the month, Joshua spotted a flash of black in the bushes. Curious, he crept over. As he got closer, a cat emerged from the foliage. It was a slender tuxedo cat, its fur sleek and glossy. It almost looked like it was wearing a little suit with the way its fur was patterned. It looked up at Joshua with piercing blue eyes that almost seemed to glow.

Joshua reached for it, transfixed by its gaze. There was a strange intelligence to the way it looked at him. As if it were somehow....human.

“Joshie!”

At the sound of Gordon’s voice, the cat turned tail and ran, disappearing into the shrubbery once more.

“Joshie!” Gordon repeated. “We’re going to start unloading the truck!”

“You gotta stake out your room or else we’ll steal the best one,” Benrey added with a grin.

“Hey! No fair!” Joshua protested.

He ran back to his father and Benrey, the cat momentarily forgotten.

Tommy, however, watched the bushes with a solemn expression. As the three new tenants began to unload their belongings, he disappeared into the woods outside the apartments, following the lead of the cat.

Joshua spent the next few weeks meeting the other residents of the Pink Palace.

Downstairs were Mr. Bubby and Mr. Coomer. They were married and had been in the circus together when they’d been young. Bubby was constantly boasting about his fire-breathing act and often still attempted to set things on fire, much to Tommy’s dismay. Coomer was still incredibly buff, even at his age, and could often be found chopping wood for Bubby to use in his little arson attempts. The whole fire thing was enough to make Gordon wary, so Joshua mostly only visited them when Gordon didn’t know about it.

Upstairs was Darnold. He was a high school chemistry teacher, although he didn’t want to do any cool experiments with explosions. Still, he was pretty fun to hang out with because he knew a lot of cool stuff about science. Even if he didn’t want to do explosion experiments, he was still happy to lead Joshua in some safer ones. Joshua got dropped off at his apartment a lot to be babysat while his father and Benrey worked because Darnold was the most normal and stable of the other tenants. Not to mention it was summer, so Darnold didn’t need to be at the school.

Next door was Forzen, who Joshua had only seen once. He was an ex-soldier and a bit of a shut-in. Joshua had been told to leave him alone.

And then there was Tommy. Tommy lived in a different house away from the Pink Palace, coming by every day to check on everyone. He was by far the coolest person Joshua had ever met, aside from Darnold and his dad and Benrey, and his dog was awesome. Sunkist was big enough for Joshua to ride! Tommy had let Joshua ride her a few times and it had been amazing.

But as awesome as Tommy was, there were certain things about him that were...strange. Whenever he thought other people weren’t watching, Joshua had noticed that his expression became strangely solemn. And he always seemed sad whenever he was around Joshua, even though he tried to hide it.

Not to mention, Joshua had seen him talking to the cat he’d seen on his first day at the Pink Palace. It always happened on the outskirts of the property, with Tommy crouched down and the cat half-hidden by the bushes.

“Whose cat is it?” Joshua asked Darnold one day after he’d been dropped off at the man’s apartment for the day.

“I’m...not sure what you mean,” Darnold said, looking up from the vegetables he’d been cutting. He was making a stir fry for both of them for lunch, which meant his usual bowtie and sweater vest combo had been removed and his shirtsleeves were rolled up to his elbows.

“There’s a cat I see sometimes. It’s black and white and it’s got these really pretty blue eyes,” Joshua explained. “Whose cat is it?”

Darnold hummed, frowning slightly. “I don’t think it really belongs to anyone. It just....” He gestured vaguely with his free hand. “Lives in the woods and shows up sometimes. No one’s sure where it came from. Tommy takes care of it sometimes, though.”

Now it was Joshua’s turn to frown. “So you don’t know anything about it?”

“Nope.”

“Uuuugh.” Joshua groaned, sinking down on Darnold’s couch.

“Sorry.” Darnold smiled apologetically.

“Well, do you at least know why Mr. Coolatta doesn’t let people with kids live here?”

“Also no.”

Joshua groaned again, sinking further into the couch.

“I always figured it was due to some safety hazard,” Darnold said, returning to his cutting of vegetables. “Although, Bubby and Coomer say that that rule was in place even when Tommy’s father owned the place.”

This piqued Joshua’s interest. The first thing that ran through his mind was that there was some sort of conspiracy going on here. Some hidden secret.

Maybe it had to do with the weird door little he’d seen in the living room. The one that led to a brick wall and was only opened with a key shaped like a button. Gordon had figured it had probably connected the room that was their living room to whatever the correlating room in Forzen’s apartment was and had been bricked up when the house had been made into apartments. A simple enough explanation. But Joshua didn’t quite believe it.

Something was going on here.

Joshua had to find out what it was.

This turned out to be harder than Joshua had expected. Darnold didn’t know anything about the door or the rule, as he’d learned, he couldn’t talk to Forzen, and when he’d asked Tommy, the landlord had reacted rather strangely.

“Oh, w-well, you know,” Tommy had said with a nervous laugh. “Sa-Safety hazards an-and all that. Oh, would you lo-look at the time!” He’d then turned and absolutely sprinted away, not even answering the question about the door.

Which left Bubby and Coomer.

Joshua stood at the top of the stairs leading down to their apartment, a notebook clutched to his chest. Both his father and Benrey were out at work, so no one was there to stop him. Taking a deep breath, he marched down the stairs and knocked on the door.

Almost immediately, the door was opened, revealing the beaming face of one Doctor Harold Pontiff Coomer. Coomer was not a tall man, but he was a big one. He looked like a teddy-bear come to life while wearing long-sleeves. But when those long sleeves came off, one could see properly how Coomer was built like a brick wall.

“Ah, hello Joshua!” Coomer said brightly.

“Hello, Mr. Coomer,” Joshua said, drawing himself up to his full height, which was not all that tall. “I’ve got some questions I wanna ask.”

“Questions?” Coomer repeated, amusement flickering in his eyes.

“Mm-hm!” Joshua nodded resolutely, holding his notebook to his chest.

“What sorts of questions?” Coomer asked.

Joshua was about to answer until Bubby’s voice came from deeper in the apartment. “Who is it?!”

“It’s Joshua!” Coomer called back without missing a beat. “The boy from upstairs!”

“He’s still alive?” There was some shuffling and Bubby appeared, wearing a faded blue bathrobe and squinting at Joshua over the top of his incredibly thick glasses.

“Why wouldn’t I be alive?” Joshua asked.

“There’s a monster here that eats kids,” Bubby answered matter-of-factly. “Would’ve thought it’d have put its little feelers out by now.”

“A monster?” Joshua’s eyes widened, all thoughts of the little door gone.

“Yeah, why do you think they don’t rent to kids?” Bubby folded his arms. “Monster. Eats kids.”

“So Mister Tommy knows?”

“But of course!” Coomer replied. “His father never let him come near this place when he was a child for fear young Tommy would be snapped up!”

“And there’s no way Greg didn’t tell the kid about it when he took over running the place,” Bubby added.

Joshua nodded, scribbling this information down.

He’d known something was going on!

“What do you know about the monster?” Joshua demanded, his face screwed up in adorable determination.

“Not much.” Bubby shrugged. “It’s weird, it eats kids, got a thing for buttons I think.”

“It lures you in by giving you everything you could possibly want.” Coomer’s expression was suddenly dark, his voice low and solemn. “It grants your heart’s deepest desires and then it steals away everything that makes you you. It eats your life and drains your soul until there is nothing left but an empty husk.”

There was a long pause as both Bubby and Joshua stared at Coomer.

“Jesus Christ, Harold,” Bubby finally said.

“Or so I’ve heard!” Coomer’s bright expression and peppy tone immediately returned. “So don’t go following any strange button-eyed creatures!”

Joshua nodded slowly, clutching his notebook to his chest like a safety blanket.

Thankfully, his attention was drawn away by the sound of his father’s voice. “Joshie? Joshie where are you?”

“I gotta go,” Joshua announced, looking back at Bubby and Coomer. “Thank you for your valuable information.”

“Don’t get eaten!” Bubby yelled after him as he ran away. “You see any spider looking fucks, you set them on fire!”

Gordon was standing on the porch in front of their door, looking slightly panicked as he scanned the lawn to see if he could locate Joshua. Benrey had a hand on Gordon’s shoulder, rubbing his thumb in circles on Gordon’s shirt. Gordon visibly relaxed when he saw Joshua running up.

“There you are, bud.” He knelt and opened his arms, allowing Joshua to run into them. “You had me really worried. I couldn’t find you anywhere.”

“Sorry, Dad,” Joshua mumbled. “Just wanted to ask Mr. Bubby and Mr. Coomer some stuff.”

“What kinda stuff?” Benrey asked, leaning against the doorframe.

“I wanted to know why Mr. Tommy doesn’t let people with kids live here,” Joshua said. “Mr. Darnold said it’s been that way since Mr. Tommy’s dad owned the house.”

“And did they have an answer for you?” Gordon asked as he picked Joshua up.

Joshua lit up, nodding enthusiastically. “Yeah! They said there’s a monster that eats kids and that’s why Mr. Tommy and Mr. Tommy’s dad don’t want kids here!”

“That’s an interesting story,” Gordon said with a somewhat unsure smile.

“If there’s a monster, why’d he rent to us?” Benrey asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Tommy did say we seemed desperate.” Gordon’s smile slipped a bit.

“It’s okay, Dad.” Joshua put his little hands on the sides of his father’s face, staring at him with an adorably determined expression. “If I meet any monsters, I’ll kick their butts.”

Gordon blinked, then laughed softly and kissed Joshua’s forehead. “Of course.”

“I’m a cowboy! I’ll kick their butts!” Joshua insisted as Gordon carried him inside.

“Hell yeah you will.” Benrey agreed, following them inside.

Gordon sighed, although he couldn’t help but smile while he did. “Don’t encourage him, Benrey.”

Dinner that night was spaghetti, which Joshua couldn’t help but complain about a little. It was just noodles and store bought sauce, both of which were rather bland.

“I’m sorry, bud.” Gordon smiled wearily. “I’m just kind of tired.”

“You’re always tired,” Joshua grumbled, sinking lower in his chair.

Gordon got very quiet after that. Benrey immediately jumped in to fill the silence with his rambling about PlayStation, but Joshua could tell he’d struck a nerve.

That night, after he was supposed to have gone to bed, he crept to his bedroom door to listen to his father and Benrey talking from the living room.

“I’m a horrible dad,” Joshua heard Gordon mumble. It sounded like he’d been crying. “I’m ruining his life and he’s going to hate me when he’s older.”

“You’re doing the best you can, bro,” Benrey replied.

“But is it good enough?” Gordon demanded. “You heard him! I’m always tired!”

“Yeah, well, busting your ass 24/7 is gonna do that to you.”

“I’m not giving him the kind of life he deserves, Benrey! He’s only eight and we’ve already had to move twice!”

“You’re doing the best you can,” Benrey’s voice grew soft, barely audible through the door. “And even if you can’t always be there, he knows you love him, Gordon.”

There was a loud sniffle, likely from Gordon.

“Thanks, Benrey.”

“No prob, dude. Now.” The creak of someone, presumably Benrey, getting up from the couch. “I’m gonna go get you some water and check on the little dude, okay?”

“Okay.”

Joshua scrambled to get back in bed, hiding under his covers to pretend he was sleeping. He could hear Benrey’s footsteps coming closer, then the door opening. Joshua laid as still as he possibly could, trying to keep his breathing even.

There was a beat of silence, then, “I know you’re awake, kiddo.”

“How’d you know?” Joshua popped up.

“You and Gordo snore real loud when you’re actually asleep,” Benrey said as he leaned on the doorframe. He’d turned on the lights, illuminating the room and his smirk.

“I do not snore,” Joshua huffed, folding his arms and pouting.

“Sure, kiddo.” Benrey strode into the room. “Now, it’s past your bedtime. You gotta sleep now.”

Joshua laid back down, continuing to pout as Benrey tucked him back in.

“Why don’t you and Dad get together?” He asked after a moment.

Benrey froze, hands hovering over the blankets. “.....Huh?”

Joshua stared up at him, his expression earnest and full of youthful sincerity.

“I know you guys like each other,” Joshua said. “So why don’t you get together?”

“It’s...complicated, little man.” Benrey started playing with the tassels on his hat.

“But you guys love each other!”

“Your dad’s been hurt by people he loved before.”

Joshua fell silent.

He knew exactly who Benrey was referring to.

Joshua knew virtually nothing about the man that was his other biological father. All he knew was that Gordon and this man had dated and the two of them had wanted to have a child together. Joshua. But when Joshua had actually been born, the man had skipped down, leaving Gordon alone with his newborn baby.

“Shifty bastard’s lucky I haven’t seen him since he pulled that stunt,” Joshua had heard Barney say once to Benrey after Gordon had gone to bed. “Otherwise I would’ve kicked his teeth in.”

The Calhoun brothers had a lot of feelings about Gordon’s former partner and absolutely none of them were positive, although they tried not to talk too much about him while Gordon was around.

Joshua himself didn’t particularly care about the man and seldom spared him a passing thought. Except when his dad was in pain. Then he thought about the man and wondered why he would leave Gordon all alone like this.

“But you’re not like him,” Joshua insisted.

“That doesn’t mean he’s not gonna be scared,” Benrey said, his voice soft. “When you’ve been burned like that...The fear never goes away.”

“So...Is he just gonna be miserable forever?” Joshua started to tear up. He didn’t want his dad to be miserable.

“Not forever. He just needs some time. He’ll be okay, I promise,” Benrey assured him, ruffling Joshua’s hair.

“...Are you gonna make sure he’s okay?”

“Yep. I’m kinda like a superhero, y’know? Keeping your dad safe from the shadows.”

Joshua giggled at Benrey’s attempt to look cool, his fears assuaged for the moment.

“Sleep well, bud.” Benrey kissed Joshua’s forehead and exited the room, closing the door behind him.

Joshua rolled over in bed, snuggling up under his blankets. Soon enough, he was fast asleep.

He was awoken hours later by what sounded like claws scrabbling on hardwood. He sat up, looking blearily around. The room was dark and the house was quiet. Aside from the claws on the wood, that was.

“Dad?” Joshua called out. “Benrey?”

There was no response.

Frowning, Joshua picked up the flashlight he kept next to his bed and put on his cowboy hat. His cowboy hat always made him feel braver. He crept into the hallway, shining his flashlight around. The sounds seemed to be coming from the living room.

The living room where the teeny door was.

Joshua walked a bit faster, sliding into the living room. There, in front of the little door, was the cat he’d seen outside. And a rat. A rat made of...cloth? The cat had the rat in its mouth, shaking it about as if trying to break the rat’s neck. In its own mouth, the rat clutched the button key to the door.

“Kitty? What are you doing in here?” Joshua asked, walking over to the cat.

The cat’s head snapped around to look at Joshua, and he got the strongest feeling that it was telling him to go back to bed. It was the same look that Gordon or Benrey gave him when they were very tired and really wanted him to just listen to them. Joshua took an instinctive step back. He hadn’t thought a cat was capable of such a human expression.

The rat took advantage of this shift in the cat’s attention to wriggle out of its mouth and through the little door with the key. Which was now open.

“Wait! You can’t take that key!” Joshua yelled, chasing after the rat without a second thought. “It’s not yours!”

The cat’s eyes widened as Joshua darted into the strange passage beyond the tiny door. It quickly followed after him, the door swinging shut behind them.

The tunnel beyond the door was.... strange. Joshua wasn’t sure why he felt like this, but he felt like he was crawling through the throat of something large. It felt....alive. He shook his head and tried to move faster.

Soon enough, he reached the end of the tunnel, pushing out into the room beyond.

“Umm...Hello?” Joshua stuck his head out of the doorway. It looked exactly like the room he’d left. Except...he could hear someone humming. Frowning, Joshua pulled himself out of the tunnel and got up, following the humming toward the kitchen.

Outside of the living room, the house looked different. It looked...He wasn’t sure how to describe it. It just looked...brighter. More welcoming.

“Hello?” He asked, pushing the kitchen door open.

There was a man in the kitchen. He had his back to Joshua and was humming while he chopped something on the counter. Upon hearing Joshua enter, he turned around, revealing....

“Dad?”

The man who looked like Gordon smiled warmly. He looked almost identical to Joshua’s father, with a few key differences. This man was far more put together than Joshua was used to seeing Gordon. His orange sweater and brown slacks were immaculate, and his hair was fluffy and swept back in neat ponytail.

And he had black buttons where his eyes should have been.

“Joshie!” The man who was not his father said, in a voice exactly like Gordon’s. “You’re just in time for dinner, bud!”

“You...You’re not my dad,” Joshua stammered, backing up.

“I’m your Other Father,” Not Gordon explained. “Now, could could you go tell your other Other Father that dinner’s ready now?”

“My....other Other Father?” Joshua repeated weakly.

“He’s in his study,” Other Gordon said, already turning away to start presumably plating the food.

“Okay.” Joshua nodded, turning away. He still had his flashlight clutched tightly to his chest.

He wasn’t sure what Other Gordon had meant by “study”. They didn’t really have a study. The closest they had was the designated game room, which Benrey did spend a lot of time in. So, Joshua headed there.

As he got closer to the game room, he could hear the sounds of a piano being played. Joshua frowned slightly at this. The closest thing to an instrument he’d ever heard Benrey play had been a kazoo, and that had only been to bother Gordon. Although, he had heard Barney mention once that Benrey had wanted to be a musician when he’d been younger.

When Joshua opened the door to the game room, he was greeted with the sight of another Benrey sitting at a piano. Like Other Gordon, Other Benrey was far more put together. He was wearing a dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, a blue vest, black dress pants, and a blue bowtie. His hair was slicked back against his head, as shiny as the blue buttons that constituted his eyes.

“Hey there, bud!” Other Benrey grinned upon seeing Joshua. “What’s up?”

“You can play the piano?” Joshua whispered, eyes wide with awe.

“Don’t need to. It plays me.” Other Benrey said with a wink.

A pair of gloves on mechanical arms emerged from the top of the piano, the gloves slipping on to Other Benrey’s hands and spinning him around to begin playing. Joshua almost dropped the flashlight as he scrambled forward to get a better look. It was incredible to watch Other Benrey’s fingers fly across the keys, even if it was mostly due to the gloves.

“That’s so cool!” Joshua exclaimed when Other Benrey had finished.

“Glad you think so, little man,” Benrey laughed, ruffling Joshua’s hair. “So, what can I do for you?”

“Oh, uh, he said to tell you that dinner’s ready,” Joshua replied, placing his cowboy hat back on his head.

“Oh hell yeah! I’m starving!” Other Benrey grinned, getting to his feet and scooping Joshua up in his arms. “We better not keep him waiting, huh?”

Joshua nodded. The anxiety he’d felt upon seeing the Other Gordon had calmed a bit with this Other Benrey, who was every bit as silly and comforting as the Benrey Joshua knew.

Other Benrey carried Joshua to the dining room, where Other Gordon was dishing up pancakes.

“Pancakes for dinner?!” Joshua’s eyes lit up as he was set down in his chair.

Pancakes for dinner was a rare occurrence at their house. Gordon and Benrey were always too tired to make pancakes most of the time.

“Of course,” Other Gordon said with a smile. “This is a very special occasion, which calls for a very special meal.”

“Hope you remembered the fruit, babe,” Other Benrey laughed, snaking an arm around Other Gordon’s waist and kissing him on the cheek.

“How could I forget? It’s your favorite part,” Other Gordon replied, playfully swatting at Other Benrey’s shoulder.

“You’re together?” Joshua asked, voice small but hopeful.

“Why wouldn’t we be?” Other Benrey asked. “We love each other.

“And we love you,” Other Gordon continued, smiling softly down at Joshua. “We’re so glad to have you here.”

Joshua couldn’t help but smile. After everything that had been going on lately...This was exactly what he’d wanted.

Gordon and Benrey happy together, not tired or overworked, paying attention to him.

He almost didn’t want to go home.

#hlvrai #hlvrai au #coraline au #fanfiction

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songfell-ut · 4 years

Text

I give up, here’s Chapter 17

I should’ve posted this a week ago, but I’ve been like “nuuu it’s cool no one minds a 25,000-word chapter” and yeah here’s only 15k that I finally split off into its own thing. Chapter is here, hi @lostmypotatoes

The Grand Hall lived up to its name: Frisk had never been to the nicer parts of the humans’ castle, but there was no way it could be more amazing than this place, which had a ceiling hundreds of feet tall blanketed with tiny lights, speckled marble columns that reached nearly all the way up, and beautiful murals on the walls showing forests, rivers, even the ocean! Monsters stood in long lines along a central aisle of sparkling white sand, so new that it had obviously been made for the humans’ visit, stretching up a gentle slope to the foot of the grand staircase leading into the Underground.

Queen Toriel had taken Frisk from the house in the Ruins through a snowy town – how did it snow inside the mountain? – and on her first-ever boat ride, which ended all too soon in a place called “Waterfall”; from there, they hurried down to the Grand Hall just in time for the Royal Guard to announce the human delegation. Luckily, instead of having to walk through all those monsters, they used a partly-hidden network of hallways to emerge right at the head of the staircase. Toriel gave the child one more pat, telling her to be good and stay where she was, before the Queen walked out to take her place beside Asgore, nodding to the guards.

Frisk was glad she didn’t have to talk to the King yet; he looked like a bigger, hairier, scarier version of his wife or son, scowling and fidgeting around until Toriel cleared her throat. They stood just in front of Prince Asriel, who noticed the child and gave her a friendly nod before he turned to face the aisle. Frisk crept out far enough to look around the rest of the cavern, wondering why humans talked about the Underground as if it was some kind of filthy mudhole. It was such a beautiful place, with boat rides and snow and twinkling lights…

Something like trumpets sounded, and the Grand Hall’s enormous bronze gates swung open. The monsters all put on their politest expressions as the delegation came through the entrance and headed up the aisle, with the frontmost humans stopping at the bottom of the staircase. “Greetings,” boomed King Asgore, extending his arms and flaring his purple cape out like great wings. “Welcome to the Underground, one and all!”

On cue, the monsters broke into cheers and applause. As the echoes faded, a fussy-looking human stepped forward to give a long speech about greetings and honor and honorable blah blah blah; it was starting to get boring when he was cut short by a cry of “Mama!” and someone rushing past him.

“Chara!” Forgetting her dignity, the Queen of monsters hitched up her robe to run to her estranged daughter. They nearly crashed into each other halfway down the stairs, Toriel’s crown falling askew as the human leapt into her embrace. There was a lot of murmuring and more genuine applause, which swelled into a full ovation as Toriel sank to her knees, holding on as though her child was drowning and her arms were a life preserver.

Asriel had also hurried down to meet his sister, and Asgore was starting toward them when it happened: Chara looked up for the briefest second, and when she saw Frisk near the head of the stairs, the woman’s eyes flashed sheer hatred, as though she wanted her dead on the spot.

Frisk jerked back so hard that she stumbled and nearly fell. When she caught her balance, she found herself looking down at Asgore; he was staring at Chara, and followed the woman’s gaze back up to Frisk. For a long second, the King regarded the human child with a question in his eyes, as though he wanted to say something, but knew better; then Chara was all teary smiles again, hugging Asriel and extending an arm to “Papa!”

The applause grew even louder as Asgore joined them, parents and siblings joyously reunited, and Frisk could have cried with rage. Why did Chara have to hate her for being there when she was lucky enough to have her own perfect family? Couldn’t Frisk have had more than a couple of minutes with those wonderful monsters before Chara stole them back?

It was too much. The child sniffled, and turned to trudge back down the hallway, trying not to think of what her mother was going to say when she found out where Frisk had been.

But as she approached the branching path that led to the Grand Hall floor, she came to a sudden halt: someone further down the hall was shouting, “I’M TELLING YOU, IT IS DEFINITELY THIS WAY!”

“sure, bro,” another person mumbled, his deeper voice echoing up the passage.

“SANS, PLEASE! THIS IS ABSOLUTELY THE CORRECT DIRECTION THIS TIME! THERE IS NO NEED TO LOOK AT ME IN THAT TONE OF VOICE!”

“relax, pap. i’m just impressed you know all these different ways to go.”

The voices weren’t moving—she was trapped up here. Frisk held her breath as the louder person demanded, “REALLY? THEN WHY ARE YOU GIVING ME THAT SMIRK?”

“…uh, bro? this is how I always—”

“DON’T LIE TO ME, BROTHER! THE GREAT PAPYRUS KNOWS WHAT A SMIRK LOOKS LIKE! IT’S A REGULAR SMILE, BUT IN THAT TONE OF VOICE!!”

“you got me. it means ‘pap is the coolest and knows all the directions.’ you like it?”

“…I SEE! NYEH-HEH. YES, I DO LIKE IT! FROM NOW ON, YOU MAY SMIRK ALL YOU WANT!”

“aww, thanks, bro. you’re the best…and that’s the tooth.”

The joke was so dumb that Frisk had to laugh. Whoever it was, they sounded friendly enough, not to mention silly. Were they humans she hadn’t talked to on the way here? Or—

“DID YOU HEAR THAT, BROTHER?” She jumped as the voice came closer. “IS SOMEONE THERE? SOMEONE WITH EXTREMELY BAD TASTE?”

“hey! i think they’ve got great taste. i mean, they obviously speak our tongue.”

Frisk laughed again, and was only a little afraid when the strange pair came into view. They were skeletons—not just thin people, but actual, literal bones that walked and talked. One was very tall, dressed in showy red boots and some kind of fake armor, while the other was much shorter, in clothes far too casual for an event like this. Why was he wearing pink slippers?

Both of them were also looking her over. With the tiny little lights in his sockets trained on Frisk, the taller one bent down to whisper to his brother. “OH MY GOD, SANS!” he yelled. “IS THAT A HUMAN?”

The short one stared at her for a moment, then nodded, and somehow closed one socket in a wink. “i dunno, pap. he doesn’t look that monstrous to me. who’re you, kid?”

“My name is F—Kris,” she said, giving them a bow, “and you’re right. I’m a human.”

“OF COURSE I AM RIGHT, HUMAN, FOR I AM THE GREAT PAPYRUS! HOW PLEASANT FOR YOU TO MEET ME!” The tall skeleton struck a heroic pose. “HAVE NO FEAR! WE MONSTERS HAVE BEEN INSTRUCTED TO MAKE YOUR ACQUAINTANCE AND THEN BECOME FRIENDS! THEREFORE, YOU MAY SIMPLY REFER TO ME AS ‘PAPYRUS,’ EVEN IF IT IS ONLY HALFWAY CORRECT.” He indicated the other skeleton. “THIS IS MY OLDER BROTHER, SANS. DO NOT BE DISTRAUGHT THAT HE IS NOT AS GREAT AS I AM, AND TRY TO BEAR WITH HIS TERRIBLE JOKES, NYEHH.” Nudge. “SANS! SAY SOMETHING THAT IS NOT TERRIBLE!”

Sans was watching her carefully; he looked like he was smiling, but Frisk had the feeling it was just how his face was made. He wasn’t happy to see her at all. “sure,” he said coolly. “the name’s sans. sans the skeleton.” Papyrus nudged him again, and Sans sighed, as if resigning himself to his fate. “yeah, i know what his majesty said.” He put on a wider grin. “welp, nice to meet you, kris.”

Fakeness or not, the monsters she’d met so far were still much better than any humans she knew. So Frisk smiled shyly at him, and whispered, “It’s nice to meet you, too, Sans.”

His smile dropped a little. They regarded each other for a few seconds; to her delight, his mouth rose again in genuine approval. “heh. you seem like a nice kid.” Shrug. “pap’s right. we’re all gonna be pals, so…”

Papyrus looked pleased as Sans took his hand from his jacket pocket. But as Frisk reached out to shake it, Pap’s smile suddenly vanished. “WAAAIT A MOMENT,” the taller brother said suspiciously. “SANS, DO NOT EVEN THINK ABOUT—”

Too late. The moment Frisk grasped the skeleton’s hand, something erupted in a palm-tickling explosion of Pfffffftttttppppppfffffffff…ffffffppp…pppf…pp……p.

Silence.

“OH. MY. GOD,” Papyrus said in the voice of doom, and rounded on his brother. “SANS, YOU IMBECILE! YOU HAVE BROKEN THE HUMAN! LOOK, IT ISN’T MOVING! IT—”

Frisk couldn’t hold it in: she howled with laughter, and only got louder as Sans pulled his hand back to reveal the rubbery, air-filled contraption that had made the rude noise. “what can i say? it’s always funny,” he said proudly. “quite a gas.”

“HOW COULD YOU, BROTHER?! THIS IS A CLEAR VIOLATION OF ACQUAINTANCE ETIQUETTE!” raged Papyrus. “HOW ARE WE SUPPOSED TO ASCEND THE HEIGHTS OF TRUE FRIENDSHIP NOW THAT YOUR IDIOTIC PRANK HAS DAMAGED THE SMALL HUMAN?!” Papyrus stabbed a gloved finger at Frisk, who was now doubled over. “IF THIS IS HOW YOU ARE GOING TO BEHAVE, YOU MIGHT AS WELL GO HOME NOW! YES, HOME! YOU CAN PICK UP YOUR ROOM IN CASE WE HAVE HUMAN GUESTS!”

“i dunno, bro,” said Sans, winking at Frisk again. “it’s probably too heavy for me. you should get it instead.”

“NYEHHH! I MOST CERTAINLY WILL NOT GET IT!”

“aw, pap, don’t be so hard on yourself. i’m sure if you just try harder—”

“LEAVE!! NOW!!!”

Funny as the brothers were, that seemed harsh to Frisk—the nearest houses had to be pretty far away from the Grand Hall, and making Sans walk all the way back because of a few jokes was a little much. She eyed Papyrus doubtfully, wondering if he was like humans after all.

“it’s fine, kiddo,” Sans told her, as if reading her thoughts. He winked one more time. “don’t worry, i know a shortcut. so, eye will see ya later.”

Before Frisk could react, Sans was…gone. Baffled, she looked around, then up at Papyrus. “HM? OH, YES. SANS HAS DEVELOPED HIS MAGIC EXACTLY ENOUGH TO BE AS LAZY AS POSSIBLE,” the tall skeleton said distastefully. “I CAN ONLY HOPE HE IS ACTUALLY CLEANING HIS ROOM NOW. MORE LIKELY, HE IS—”

There was a sound of clapping and cheering from the Grand Hall. “THAT’S RIGHT!” Papyrus threw his red scarf over his collarbone. “COME ALONG, HUMAN! I SHALL INTRODUCE YOU TO THE OTHER MONSTERS! YOU WILL BE DELIGHTED TO MEET THEM, ESPECIALLY THE ROYAL GUARD, AND THE FEELING WILL BE MUTUAL! NYEH-HEH! FOLLOW ME, NEW ACQUAINTANCE!”

“Um…” Frisk bit her lip. Papyrus was a lot to take in, especially without warning, but he didn’t seem to be faking his enthusiasm, or his kindness. Frisk looked at him, made up her mind, and smiled again. “Can we be friends now?” she asked, holding up her hand.

The skeleton’s cheekbones turned bright pink, somehow, eye sockets going wide and glittery. “REALLY?!? WOWIE! I CAN’T BELIEVE I—” He made a noise like a cough. “I MEAN…O-OF COURSE YOU WANT TO BE MY FRIEND, KRIS! I AM EXTREMELY GREAT.” Papyrus leaned down a little to take her hand. “COME ALONG! AS A FRIEND OF THE GREAT PAPYRUS, YOU SHALL BE KNOWN AND LOVED BY ALL! NYEH-HEH-HEH!”

Frisk sure hoped so, especially if the other monsters were as nice as he was. Even if they weren’t, she’d already made new friends, exactly like she was supposed to. Mama couldn’t be mad at her for that, and Chara couldn’t take them away from her!

The dream with Asriel was a fitting end to a frustrating night. Sans had picked the biggest inn he could find and asked for a room with the biggest bed they had, only to find that it still wasn’t big enough for him. He didn’t want to try sleeping in his disguise, which meant another night stretched out on the floor, longing for the massive bed in the High Priestess’ quarters. He never would have thought he’d want to go back to the humans’ castle—that damn bed had spoiled him for life! Not to mention that when he was sleeping in it, he had Frisk all to himself…

He had just started dozing off when the door to the next room opened and closed, a couple of human voices whispering back and forth. Sans made the mistake of concluding that that was it, and was completely unprepared for the sounds that exploded through the wall a minute later.

Sans was not an expert on human…anything, but he knew was he was hearing, and that he was hearing it very very loudly. At that point, he had several options; after mulling exactly one of them over, he sat up and ran a thread of magic through the lamp fixture over the bed, worming it through the conduits in the wall and into the next room. From there, he could feel the vibrations of the bed moving – ugh – and spread his magic in a thin layer under one side of the mattress; then he twitched his hand, and grinned at the shrieks and thuds of the couple being dumped onto the floor.

Unsurprisingly, he didn’t need to do anything else. The humans got dressed in a hurry, grabbed their things, and left, and did not come back. Sans let his magic dissipate and settled down, feeling a little smug, but mostly annoyed that the sounds were still stuck in his head.

The giant skeleton tossed and turned, dreamed, and got up in the morning a lot later than he intended; he was so unrested, and so disturbed at having seen Asriel – had it been real? Why and how would the Prince visit him of all people? Why now? – that he barely remembered to put his chain back on before he left the room. He forgot to ask directions when he checked out and had to grump his way around town at random, looking for the stables the warehouse lady had mentioned. He had to get the carts and horses, then go to all the stupid places and get the stupid things…

Well, this wasn’t the right way: he was on a street lined with cute little cafes and humans sitting around in fancy metal chairs. He stopped to get his bearings, and nearly swore as his stomach growled. At least there were food stands everywhere…but what the hell was a “crepe”?

A minute later, he found a place to sit down and gnaw on a couple of folded-over, chocolatey things, which were actually pretty good. There wasn’t much to do as he ate but people-watch, which would have been kind of neat if the people in question weren’t humans. They followed the overall pattern he’d observed at the castle, where the men were loud and stupid-looking, while the women were also loud and ranged from scrawny to actually-lumpy to extremely lumpy. Even the ones with nice faces were still too…human, without any soothing voices, or graceful movements, or sweet expressions…

It made him wonder yet again if Frisk’s SOUL was the real reason he’d been so drawn to her; the first time he’d seen it, he was scared shitless, and then he wanted to rip it out for strictly non-romantic purposes. Was it because she’d reminded him so much of Kris? Or would he have just eventually fallen in love with any human who was powerful enough for him, even if she was a gross person on the outside or inside?

…Nope. It was because she was Frisk. Satisfied with that line of introspection, Sans finished the second crepe and tossed the wrappers in a trash can, forgetting that she wasn’t there to yell at him for littering. Time to ask someone for directions to a more useful part of town.

The first person he talked to just shrugged, and the next pointed him the wrong way entirely, but an irate half-hour later, Sans was back on the right track. This street seemed much dingier, with fewer people around; it smelled weird, too, like horse pee and desperation.

Maybe that was why someone had started following him. Sans smiled to himself, wiggling his fingers inside his coat pockets. Should he get further into the back alleyways before he confronted the guy, or—

“Heya.”

Sans glanced to his right. A man in his early twenties was standing by a side street, nodding at him. “C’mon this way,” he said. “Got somethin’ to show you.”

“I don’t think so, pal,” said the disguised boss monster. “Whatever ya want, you’re wastin’ yer time. Don’t have any cash on me.” Without waiting for an answer, he speed-walked further ahead, grinning as he heard a soft whistle behind him.

Sure enough, someone was waiting right around the next corner, an older man in nice clothes. “Excuse me, sir,” he said loudly, “but do you have the time?”

Sans thought of the old woman again and snorted. “Nope,” he replied, and tried to walk around him.

The man quick-stepped back into Sans’ way. “My. Her Eminence doesn’t pay you enough to buy a watch?” he asked innocently.

What the hell? He wasn’t wearing the armband. “Who said anythin’ about—”

The distraction almost worked: the guy made a sudden feint toward him, and if Sans had been any less alert, he’d have backed right into the human sneaking up to grab his neck with a wire loop. Instead, Sans pivoted and slammed an elbow into his would-be assailant so hard that he felt the guy’s ribs crack. The man who’d stopped him cursed under his breath, turning to run.

Almost absent-mindedly, Sans waved a finger in the fleeing human’s direction. There was a shnk of bone erupting from the pavement, and a muffled scream as the man’s ankle was impaled mid-flight. The rest of his body yanked to a stop and hit the ground in a twisted heap.

Footsteps pounded toward them, and Sans turned to face the first guy who’d talked to him, then one other human. They sized up the situation and moved to either side of him, one armed with some kind of club and the other sporting a huge knife.

Sans gave a low laugh as bloodlust started bubbling to the surface. Finally! This was what he’d been waiting for! No more playing cute and harmless! No more letting people do whatever the hell they wanted with him! No witnesses!

Really, the only problem was that it was too easy. Sans let the one with the knife get in close, then grabbed his arm and broke it at the elbow, spinning the would-be assassin around and shoving him into the guy with the club. Both humans hit the ground, but the knife guy was up in a moment, scrabbling for his weapon with his good hand. Sans kicked the knife away, pinned both of his palms to the ground with a couple more bones, and lifted the remaining human by the neck with his magic.

Was that it? He glanced around at the one with the wire loop – on the ground, struggling to breathe – then the guy with the impaled ankle, who seemed to have passed out. The third was staring at his hands and making weird noises – not very knife of him, ha ha – and the last one dangled a few inches off the ground, clawing at the red mist around his throat.

Sans hummed under his breath, surveying the four men with an artistic eye. Well! Where to begin? Might as well start with the one he was holding up. The human windpipe was so fragile that one good crunch would do it…but no one said it’d have to be a quick crunch. Sans began to apply pressure, slow and hard, and grinned as the man’s eyes bulged in terror—

Out of nowhere, he froze mid-squeeze as a strange emotion hit him. It was…nostalgia, and then—guilt? That was it; the longer Sans stared at the captive human, the less he enjoyed the guy’s fear and despair. He knew exactly what it felt like to be trapped by someone stronger, didn’t he? Back in his jail cell, cowering behind a human witch’s barrier, knowing she could do any damn thing she pleased to him—had he looked like this to her?

Sans shook his head in irritation. What was he thinking? That was different! He wasn’t Frisk, and these guys had tried to kill him!

…just like he’d tried to kill her before and after she stopped him from hurting anyone. What had she done to retaliate? Kept him safe, given him her own stupidly oversized bed, let him sleep for over a day, and fed him more in one sitting than he’d eaten in goddamn weeks.

Sans tried again to shake it off, to rationalize that no one in their right mind would hold a psycho like him to Frisk’s standards, but when he looked again at the human in his grasp…

No, dammit! These assholes had attacked him out of nowhere, and he’d defended himself! Surely she wouldn’t expect him to just stand there and get murdered?

…But none of these guys could move under their own power anymore, much less hurt him. Now Sans could see Frisk snarling up at him in all her tiny, furious glory: “If you kill anyone and you cannot look me in the eye to tell me why it was necessary, I don't want you to come back at all!”

Argh! It wasn’t fair! She wasn’t here to stop him—she would never even know! Why should he quit right when it was finally getting good? Couldn’t he at least nick ‘em a few more times, enough to make them sorry? They might be pretty sorry already, but… “But,” Sans mumbled out loud, scowling.

Now he was thinking of Dr. Serif. The boss monster could practically hear his cool, smug voice: “But what, Sans?”

Tch. If he had to be hearing things, he’d much rather it be Frisk. He knew he should’ve taken a shortcut back to the Underground last night. Then he could’ve seen her and…done…something? Maybe he wouldn’t be so damn frustrated now, his mind jumping all over the place…

“Sans.”

Oh, shit. What about the fortune-teller? “Don’t kill anyone.” That guy had been right about stuff so far; would something happen to Frisk if Sans ignored his stupid, cheap advice? For all he knew, it could—

“SANS.”

“What?” he snapped. “Whaddya want, Doc…tor?” He gaped at Dr. Serif, who was standing only a few yards away, arms folded. “The fuck are you doin’ here?” demanded Sans, releasing the human from mid-air and ignoring his wheezing.

Dr. Serif came closer and made two gestures. A skeletal hand popped up and seized the fallen human by the throat, glowing green before vanishing. “He should live,” the royal sorcerer said crisply. He glanced at the man whose hands were affixed to the pavement, and the one up ahead. “In the meantime, do you plan to leave these gentlemen like that?”

Sans was still mad that he couldn’t leave them dead, but… He made a disgusted noise, and the bones all vanished. “Ya gonna tell me why you’re here, or what?”

“What.” Dr. Serif walked past Sans and snapped his fingers. Two pairs of disembodied hands sprang out of thin air, and one latched onto each human’s head; to Sans’ immense discomfort, the hands glowed blue, and each man obediently got up with sluggish, jerky motions – even the one with the shattered ankle – to come sit in a row, legs crossed like schoolchildren. “Why did you attack this man?” Dr. Serif inquired. “Only speak if you have useful information.”

The human with the broken ribs mumbled, “He’s the High Priestess’ agent,” in a voice that made Sans feel even weirder. There was good old-fashioned violence, and there was this. “Gonna hold him for ransom and lure in the skeleton.”

“Do not lie to me.” The humans jerked, eyes going glassy as the blue intensified. “This is not an instrument of live capture,” said the royal sorcerer, retrieving the wire loop with yet another hand. “Why do you, or your employers, want him dead?”

There was a round of silence. Evidently, no one knew, or probably cared. They’d had their orders, and that was that.

Sans stepped closer. “Were you the ones going after Frisk a few weeks ago—the High Priestess? Are you gonna try it again?”

“Wasn’t us,” said one.

“No one’s supposed to kill her anymore,” said another, and his associates nodded slowly.

Dr. Serif blinked a few times. “According to who, and since when?”

“Last week. Someone paid the Assassin’s Guild to blacklist her. She’s untouchable—anyone who goes after her gets a bounty put on his head.”

Sans had never seen the royal sorcerer so taken aback. “I didn’t know that was even possible. It would cost several hundred thou—no, a million dinar to make it worth their while,” he muttered. “Do you have any idea who did it?”

More silence. Meanwhile, Sans was not that surprised to find out there was a formal guild for murderers. Humans were such fucking scumbags.

“Are you affiliated with poachers, then?” was Dr. Serif’s next question.

“Yeah,” they all said at once.

The doctor’s foot tapped a few times. “Does your attack on the priestess’ agent have to do with the timing of his delivery to the Underground? Fewer monsters will be venturing outside if food is being brought directly to them—I assume you wanted to prevent this?”

Sans watched the men’s faces stay blank. That was probably too many words for them. “What’re you gonna do if ya can’t catch any monsters?” he asked instead.

The blue light intensified again, and someone finally mumbled, “Ransom. The High Priestess will pay to get her agent back. She won’t know he’s dead yet.”

Dr. Serif frowned. “And you’re hoping she’ll send the boss monster to rescue him?”

Nods. “It’s worth a hell of a lot of money.”

There was an odd pause. “For his magic?” the doctor asked.

“And ransom. She’s screwin’ it,” one man said tonelessly.

Dr. Serif grabbed Sans’ shoulder to restrain him. “Surely you’re not taking that rumor seriously,” he said. “It can’t be worth the danger of trying to capture such a powerful monster—he was relatively weak when he was first caught, and two men still died of their injuries.”

“Lady payin’ us says it’s true. She doesn’t want Her Eminence arrested for mis…missen—”

“Miscegenation?” growled Sans.

“Yeah. That. She wants us to catch it, but not kill it. We’ll keep it and get a shitload of magic, then sell it back later. Win-win.”

“Hm. So, your employer is a woman who wants to help the High Priestess? What is her name?”

No one answered. The blue light flickered, and one man finally said, “Dunno. We just got a few letters, and payment up front. Pretty sure it’s a rich lady ‘cause of the handwriting and the way the paper smelled, but we don’t know for sure.”

The doctor stared the man down, still holding Sans’ shoulder. “And she has hired you to hold the skeleton prisoner…for how long, exactly? And through what means?”

The human shrugged. “She said she’d tell us more once we killed this guy.”

Dr. Serif thought about it for a moment, then snapped his fingers again. The skeletal hands tightened, and Sans watched the men writhe in tandem and fall sideways like puppets with cut strings. “Well, that was more interesting than expected,” said the royal sorcerer. His hand tightened on Sans’ shoulder. “Come along.”

Sans shut his eyes as magic surged around them. It didn’t have the rushing-through-space feel of his shortcuts; this was more as if the ground had jumped out from beneath their feet and just as quickly hopped back into place. He opened his eyes and started. “Where—”

They were standing outside a large, well-kept stable. The doctor released him, saying, “I must commend you for not killing any of those men. We’ve acquired valuable information, and once they wake up, word will get around that the High Priestess’ agent is not to be trifled with.” He smiled, ever so slightly. “They will not recall I was even there.”

Sans gestured impatiently. “What the fuck was that about? Someone wants human-me dead, but they just wanna borrow real me to keep Frisk outta jail? An’ someone else’s paid out the ass to keep her alive? What’s—”

“It could well be the same person.” The royal sorcerer brushed some dust off his robe. “What is miscegenation?” he asked curtly.

Sans’ toes curled. “Boning a monster. It’s a literal crime. I heard somebody talking about it last night.”

“Interesting,” the doctor said slowly. “No one spreading that rumor in the city seems to know about it yet.” Sigh. “If you overheard it here, I suppose it’s only a matter of time before everyone knows.”

Sans didn’t want to talk about that right now, or ever. “How long were you following me?” he asked instead.

Pause. “Long enough.”

The boss monster didn’t like that, either. “Whatever,” Sans mumbled. “But thanks fer gettin’ all that stuff out of ‘em. You’re pretty freaky, but I guess ya come in handy.”

He heard the familiar sound of someone ignoring a pun, and then “You’re welcome.” Dr. Serif crossed his arms. “I was sent here to intercept you and the High Priestess. Given that I have not seen Her Eminence with you, may I assume you were foolish enough to come alone?”

“Uh…”

“As you were also foolish enough to leave the castle when and how you both did, I am not surprised.”

Sans snorted. “Ya think that was my idea?”

“No, but this almost certainly was.” The royal sorcerer gestured to the smushed roll of papers in Sans’ front pocket. “Come along. There should be three carts on reserve in Frisk’s name here, for when you were supposed to have picked them up on your way to the Underground.”

Sans followed him into the stable. “What, ya didn’t like us bailin’ on you?” he asked, taking childish pleasure in the older skeleton’s annoyance.

The doctor reached back without looking and took the papers from Sans’ pocket. “Hello,” Dr. Serif said cordially to the human behind the counter, who stepped right up to assist them.

This turned out to be prophetic: the doctor not only accompanied him everywhere for the rest of the morning and afternoon, he took complete charge. He made things so much smoother that Sans couldn’t even be mad about it; people listened to him, and he could fully answer their questions while Sans inspected the cargo and supervised the loading. The doctor also signed the bills of lading, reminding Sans after the first visit that as a perfectly normal human and not a monster in disguise, he was not “Sans” and needed to pick a pseudonym already.

They had almost no time to eat lunch or dinner, electing to grab a couple of sandwiches as the drivers brought the carts to the second-to-last warehouse. “So, was it your idea to swoop in on us like this?” Sans asked. “I know it was annoying to wake up and have us gone, but—”

“His Majesty is extremely unamused by his daughter’s behavior,” said the royal sorcerer, in a tone that wiped the smirk off Sans’ face. “To be very honest, I am glad I will not be there when Her Eminence receives this.” He extracted a long, expensive-looking envelope from his robe. “His Majesty assembled the paperwork yesterday for—”

“The adoption thing?” Sans interrupted. “Is it true?”

Dr. Serif made a face. “No matter where I go, the speed of gossip remains constant.” Another sigh. “Whatever you’ve heard is likely true. Should Frisk’s mission prove successful, His Majesty is prepared not only to pardon her theft, but place her directly in the line of succession.”

Sans took a long sip of water, trying and failing to figure that one out. “I thought ya said he was pissed off at her. Why…?”

“Tell me, Sans. Knowing Frisk, do you think she would appreciate being pressured into accepting such a heavy responsibility, especially in anticipation of her little brother’s death? His Majesty knows exactly how she will feel about it.” Dr. Serif paused for a huge bite of his sandwich. “Also, he may personally be unhappy with her actions, but he knows better than anyone that if she can outmaneuver him, then she is worthy of the throne.”

Fuck. “Yeah, when ya put it like that—”

The royal sorcerer glanced at him. “Out of curiosity, when did you learn that the King was her father?”

“Not till we were almost t’the Underground. I kinda found out by accident.”

Dr. Serif half-smiled. “It’s been common knowledge ever since she was brought to St. Brigid’s. And…by any chance, did she ever tell you anything about her mother?”

Sans had to whack himself in the chest as the last wad of his sandwich threatened to get stuck in his windpipe. Why did human bodies use the same damn tube for breathing and eating? “Only that she’s dead,” he rasped. “Why?”

“Wipe your hands, please, and put this somewhere safe until you can give it to her.” Dr. Serif held out the gilt envelope. “It contains copies of all the relevant documents, including an investiture of nobility—she would technically become a duchess first, then Crown Princess upon the death of the King or the Prince.”

Sans scrubbed his hands on his shirt and took the envelope. He was thinking so hard that he almost didn’t notice Frisk’s full name in fancy cursive across the front; then he looked again, and stared at it for a minute, and finally said, “Huh.”

“You don’t seem entirely surprised,” the doctor observed, sounding almost disappointed. “Have you already heard something to that effect?”

“Yeah. I had a long talk with Grillby the other day, and…I wasn’t gonna ask Frisk, but I was kinda wondering, and then she said…” Had the King done the calligraphy himself? “I never did hear her last name. I figured the High Priestess just doesn’t need one.”

“It was not hers to use for most of her life, and I would be very surprised if she chose to do so now, or ever. According to what I have gleaned from Rosa, the name does not have pleasant associations for Frisk—another fact of which the King is very aware.”

“Holy shit.” Sans looked at the envelope again. “He’s callin’ her that ta piss her off?”

“It is technically her legal name and belongs on a document of this importance. So, yes.”

“Shit.” Sans scratched the back of his head, thinking even harder. “So whoever filled out the paperwork for him knows her name, too? Which means everyone is gonna know about it by the time we get back?”

The doctor raised an eyebrow. “You’re coming back with her, then?” He let the question hang in the air, and Sans ignored it till Dr. Serif continued, “You are correct. I am genuinely sorry to leave this with you, but you will have to give her the news before you return, or else she will be completely blindsided. Please don’t do that to her.”

Sans wasn’t going to admit that the thought had already crossed his mind: throw the envelope away, let her enjoy the rest of her time in the Underground, and feign astonishment when they got back – hopefully triumphant – and found out she’d someday have the power to do literally anything she pleased, such as freeing monsters with a single decree.

Except…she was already helping monsters, and had already spent three lonely, stressful years as High Priestess. How much worse would her life be if she became the actual Queen? Would it technically fit that second fortune? Fear stabbed him so hard that he could barely breathe—what if she got surrounded by advisers and hangers-on determined to harass him away from her? There was no telling how long her father and half-brother would be around, and they probably wouldn’t let her keep a pet skeleton around, not to mention a suspiciously bony kid…

Sans couldn’t help it. Dr. Serif eyed him warily as the boss monster snickered again: a fucking crime. It was too perfect.

The carts were ready now. The boss monster tucked the fancy envelope into an inner pocket and resolved to quit thinking about it for now. Frisk could handle this; she’d know what to do. If she didn’t, they’d figure it out together.

Thankfully, the rest of the afternoon was pretty uneventful. By the time they were ready to head back to the Underground, the sun was just touching the horizon.

Everything had fit into three large-ish carts, which Frisk had accurately predicted would be a better idea than two really huge ones. The drivers were nervous about starting so late in the day, but Dr. Serif had implied that they were just headed to the city, the road to which was well-lit and patrolled by watchmen. Sans got a huge kick out of seeing the humans’ faces when the procession reached the outskirts of the village, went about a hundred yards, and came to a sudden halt. “You may remove the horses now,” said the doctor. “Please return to the village. Here is a small gratuity for your trouble.”

If the humans had questions, they were effectively answered by the five-hundred-dinar pieces Dr. Serif placed in each of their hands. They unhitched the horses and jogged them back in the fast-fading light without a backward glance, leaving the loaded carts sitting in the road.

From there, the disguised monsters waited until no one was in sight – not difficult, given the hour and the cold – and then enacted the plan they’d agreed upon earlier: Sans encased the lightest cart in a film of red magic, thought carefully about the place by the river where Undyne had attacked him, and teleported the whole thing there. No more than ten seconds later, a large patch of blackness crept over the pale bedrock; Gaster rose from it head-first, followed by the carts, and everything settled into place as the ground shimmered back into ordinary rock-ness.

“What the crap?” Sans pulled his chain off. “How do you even have that much magic?”

Gaster brushed himself off again with two extra hands, keeping his own tucked beneath his flowing black coat. He glided in a circle around the carts, checking that they had made the journey safely, and nodded. “Surely you’re not worn out from one spell?”

“No, but I’m a damn boss monster!”

The older skeleton smiled. A hand appeared in front of Sans, holding a gray orb slightly bigger than the hole in its palm. “Humans use these to store magic. Keep at least one on your person at all times and let it absorb your ambient power. Put it away when full, then repeat the process. Do so regularly, and you will soon have a supply built up for contingencies exactly like this.” The hand vanished. “Has Her Eminence used the teleportation spell I gave her yet?”

Sans remembered the brooch she’d gotten on All Souls Day, and shook his head. “I don’t think so, but she wears it a lot.”

“Good.” Gaster looked at the nearly-night sky. “Lead the way.”

The boss monster wondered exactly how many more of those stones Gaster had squirreled away in whatever fold of subspace he was using, and contented himself with the fact that the creepy bastard still seemed to be on their side—Sans hadn’t forgotten the fortune about bewaring him, but right now, he didn’t have much choice. Even the lightest of the carts was much heavier than the wagons full of monsters had been, and as tired as he was, he doubted he could’ve pulled or teleported them all on his own.

Gaster’s extra hands were pulling and pushing two of the carts with apparent ease as they followed the river. Sans tried to think of something that would pass the time without leading to invasive questions, and finally thought to ask, “The solar panel demonstration went okay?”

“Oh, yes.” Gaster’s voice was neutral, and it was impossible to read his expression in profile. “Someone attempted to sabotage it by cutting several of the wires on the main panel, so I used my own magic as a substitute. It was most impressive, if I say so myself.”

That sounded like one problem too many. They had enough crap to deal with in the Underground without worrying about sabotage or the King being passive-aggressive or some random lady who wanted to keep him away from Frisk! Get in line, he thought bitterly.

“How is Her Eminence’s mission going?” asked Gaster, as if reading his mind.

“Pretty good, I think. Asgore hasn’t met with her yet, but he’s letting her do whatever.” Sans felt the corners of his mouth lift. “She’s spent a couple nights with Undyne and Alphys at Toriel’s house, havin’ some girl time. They went shopping yesterday, ‘n pro’ly today.”

Gaster nodded. “I don’t know how you intended to do this alone,” he said, glancing at the carts, “but given your accelerated timeline, I suppose it was the best way to let her enjoy herself for a day or two. It will also help her cause if the monsters see a great deal of her firsthand.”

Sans knew what he meant—all Frisk had to do to win them over was be herself. He didn’t notice that he was smiling until he felt Gaster’s stare; the other skeleton was suddenly in front of him, drifting backwards as Sans walked. “Don’t mind me,” murmured the royal sorcerer, examining the boss monster’s sternum.

“What’s my LV?” Sans asked bluntly.

Gaster reappeared beside the cart. “You are at LV 16.”

Sans was…almost surprised. Gaster gave him a hard look. “The first time I checked, you were—”

A sound off to their left made both skeletons stop to listen. It was faint, but unmistakable. “Keep going,” Gaster said, and they picked up the pace, both assuming their disguises.

There was no question of outrunning the humans, so they let the sound of hoofbeats gradually overtake them. “Well, well,” said the first rider, pulling up in front of the carts and forcing them to stop. Two more poachers rode up alongside, and three more brought up the rear. Each man had a coil of chain slung over his shoulder, and their leader carried a heavy crossbow. “What are you doing out here so late?” he demanded. “Where you headed with all that?”

“The Underground,” Dr. Serif said calmly. “We have no monsters or valuables with us, so if you would kindl—”

“Bullshit.” The leader nodded to the other men. “Search ‘em. There’s gotta be—”

Sans didn’t even see what happened next: an unseen force yanked each man out of the saddle to hit the bedrock, filling the air with thumps, whinnying, and curses. “This is your last warning,” said Dr. Serif, still sounding very reasonable. “Leave us, or you will suffer.”

When the men didn’t answer – except for more profanity – the doctor made a gesture. This time, Sans glimpsed the skeletal hands smacking the horses on the rump, one after another; the animals screamed in panic, nearly trampling their riders as they bolted in different directions.

The poachers gaped at each other, then at the human-shaped skeletons. “What the fuck are you?” demanded the leader. With no warning, he whipped up his crossbow to fire at—

—Gaster, whose body had vanished, leaving nothing but an eerie smile and empty sockets. “Well, then,” he murmured, his eyes lighting blue and yellow. He glanced at Sans. “Please go on without me. I will see you back at the castle in…” He paused, counting on a set of hands. “…nine days.” The fingers snapped once, twice, thrice. “My regards to Her Eminence.”

Sans opened his mouth to object, and the ground dropped out from beneath him.

Silence descended in his wake, leaving the poachers in abject terror. Without the carts’ lanterns, it was impossible to see anything but the light in Gaster’s sockets. “Well,” the monster said. He looked at the men with mild curiosity, like a child with a jar full of insects. The leader jerked as a hand suddenly latched onto his face. “Can I trust you to keep this little encounter a secret?” asked Gaster.

The man nodded frantically, clawing at the hand as blood began welling under its phalanges. The others nodded, too, babbling reassurance.

“Good,” the skeleton said pleasantly. The humans had exactly enough time to start hoping before his eye-lights dilated, illuminating the hideous, masklike face. “What a pity that I do not believe you.”

There was a gruesome sound, and another, and another, and another. Silence; a tide of magic rose and swept over the bedrock, leaving nothing behind but a few splashes of blood.

Gaster nodded in satisfaction and turned to rinse his hands in the river, humming Sans’ favorite song. He paused long enough to chuckle to himself, then brushed his coat off once more, extracted a fresh stone from his coat, and vanished.

The sentries outside the Grand Hall’s gates rolled their eyes as another knock came from within. “Any sign of him?” someone asked through the crack.

“No,” the rabbit monster snapped. “For the last time, you don’t need to keep asking every ten minutes! We’ll tell you when he—”

A long, low sound from the opposite direction cut him short. “Sans?” called the guard.

“The one an’ only,” a gruff voice answered over the rise. In the still, cold air, they could now hear the sound of wheels on sandy rock, and the labored breathing of a boss monster managing three heavily laden carts by himself. “Can I get some damn help here?”

Twenty minutes later, Sans had recovered enough to get up from the cavern floor and hobble through the swarm of hungry monsters by the gates, some of whom had been waiting all day for their share of the food. “You guys don’t need to inspect it,” the colossal skeleton informed the guards, who were busy walking around the carts and poking them at random. “Me an’…someone I trust watched ‘em load it up.”

The rabbit guard looked at his partner, then at Sans. “This came from humans, right? It’s probably gotta be—”

“It’s gotta get out to people now,” Sans growled. He pointed at someone randomly. “Go get more help, whoever’s awake. I’m gonna go find Her Majesty.”

“No need,” said a clear voice. The monsters all bowed out of the way as Toriel stepped off the patchy gray sand of the central aisle. “I am glad to see you back safely, Sans. Thank you so much for your efforts,” said the former Queen. “Please, get some sleep. I will handle the rest.”

Sans was so tired that he could barely stay upright, but he shook his head. “I’m gonna check in with Asgore first.” Toriel’s face darkened, and he sighed. “C’mon, To—Your Majesty, ya know he’ll freak out if he finds out this came in without ‘im knowing.”

The other boss monster sighed, closing her eyes. “True. And if you go now, you may run into the Captain and Dr. Alphys. They will also want to know you’ve arrived safely. But after that, I want you go straight home! Do you hear me?”

He did, but sleep could wait: if those two were at Asgore’s house, then Frisk might be, too. His magic flared up, and without another thought, the skeleton took himself straight there.

Remembering how easily the women had detected him before, Sans aimed for the end of the house near the master bedroom, and caught himself with only a slight stagger into the wall. Voices were coming from the living room; the boss monster waited for his vision to clear, then pushed himself upright and crept down the hall to listen.

“It is lovely,” Asgore was murmuring. There was a musical clinking of fine metal and china—the King must be looking at the tea service Frisk had picked out for him.

“Yeah, she was pretty proud of it. Everything she’s brought has been awesome,” agreed Undyne.

Sans scowled. Frisk wasn’t here after all. Well, he didn’t have enough magic to zero in on wherever she was, and Undyne was still talking, so he might as well eavesdrop. “She got me some targets, and comi—uh, battle strategies, and stuff for my scales. It was really thoughtful,” said the Royal Guard Captain.

“And I can finally finish Adventure Lady!” Alphys exclaimed. “C-can you believe it?!”

To Sans’ surprise, Asgore chuckled. He didn’t think the King knew how to do that anymore. “I’m glad to hear it, Doctor. I know how much that was bothering you.” Clink. “What about the agricultural implements Sans mentioned?”

“Yes, Y-Your Majesty. We spent a few hours today looking them over—she knows how to treat plants so that they can go days without being watered! We t-talked about different chemicals that can improve the quality of our soil, specific nutrients for whichever crops we decide to plant first, and all the seeds she brought. The next step is to decide which fields to convert to pasture if we want to raise c-cattle or sheep.”

“Hmm. Yes, that would be wonderful.” Sans heard tea being poured and china clinking again. “What else has she been up to?” asked the King.

“We went shopping for clothes yesterday,” the Captain said, “and Mettaton is teaching her how to dance. It was pretty fun—did you hear he wants to have a big party before she leaves?”

“Yes, I have. Some festivities could be good for our people, but…we’ll see.”

“Right.” She cleared her throat. “And just so you know, Majesty, we’ve spent the past couple nights at the Ruins.”

A long pause. “I…see. Did you have a good time?”

“Yeah,” Undyne said quietly. “Everyone did.”

“That…” Asgore heaved a great sigh. “That’s good to hear. What about today?”

Undyne’s chair creaked. “Today was a little more complicated. She checked on some of the people she brought back—not that she busted in on anyone,” the fish monster added hastily. “She only got started ‘cause Vulkin asked her to come visit.”

Asgore made a startled noise. “Vulkin wanted to see her? Why?”

Sans wanted to run in and shake the King like the idiot he was, but he edged back and tried to think nicer thoughts as Undyne answered, “She said Frisk was the only human who ever gave a crap about them, basically, and her family wanted to meet her. We ended up staying for over an hour.” Another pause. “Also, Majesty…Frisk’s got this thing she does where she can hum something at you, and it’s…really nice. Not hypnosis or anything sneaky, it just…” Sans could almost hear Undyne shrug. “Right before we left, Vulkin started getting worked up, and Frisk calmed her down just like that.”

“She’s done it for us, too, right before bedtime,” said Alphys. “I haven’t s-slept so well in forever.”

“Hm. She has other abilities, then, besides creating barriers?” He poured more tea. “Have you investigated her capabilities in that respect?”

“N-No, Your Majesty. She wanted to have your permission before she made any, even j-just to study them in the lab.”

Sans got the feeling that Asgore was a little put out by Frisk conducting herself so well. “If you believe she is trustworthy,” said the King, “then by all means, study her barriers as fully as you can. The knowledge may prove…useful.” More clinking. “Thank you for your time, both of you. Get some rest. And…” His voice softened. “Please thank her for the gift.”

The giant skeleton smiled a little. Before they could get up and notice him lurking in the hall, Sans used the tiniest wisp of magic – all that he had left – to whisk himself outside to the courtyard. He waited by the tree, foot raised as if in mid-step; when the door opened, Asgore saw him and started. “Sans! You’re back!”

“Hey, Majesty.” Sans raised a genuinely weary hand. “Yeah, I just got in with all the stuff. Everything’s fine. Just wanted to let you know.”

“Thank you very much,” the King said heartily, another trace of his old self showing. “I’ll be down right away.”

“Uh.” The bigger boss monster fake-coughed. “Please don’t, Yer Majesty. Someone’s already got it under control.”

Blink. “Some…oh.”

“Hey, you,” Undyne said, moving around Asgore and hopping down the stairs in one easy bound. “How’d it go? Are you okay?”

“It’s fine, ‘m just worn out.” Sans let out a full-force yawn. “I’ll walk back with you guys,” he said as Alphys came down the steps.

“All right, then,” Asgore murmured. “Thank you again, Sans.” The skeleton nodded, and they politely waited for the door to close before turning to leave.

“Don’t even think about it” was the first thing out of Undyne’s mouth. “She’s asleep already.”

Sans was too tired not to ask, “Where? Tori’s again?”

“I’m not telling you!” snapped the fish-woman. “We had a lot of fun yesterday, but today was pretty rough on her.” She eyed him as they stepped into the elevator and waited for the grating to close. “You don’t look so hot, either.”

“I will be in a minute.” Sans swayed on his feet as the elevator descended. “After all, we’re goin’ to Hotland.”

Undyne twitched. “Nope. We’re not doing those.”

“Aww, c’mon, fish-face.” Yawn. “I’m just gettin’ warmed up.”

Twitch. “I’m serious, boss. Drop it.”

“Drop it like…it’s hot?”

“I SAID—”

The elevator ground to a halt, and he felt Alphys tug on his coat. “L-let’s go to my lab, Sans. You can take a nap and get some magic back befo—not yet!”

Sans had the impression of falling and something grabbing him, but he didn’t pay much attention till Undyne heaved him onto the lab’s concrete floor. “Ow,” he tried to say, but it was too much effort; he decided to pass out instead.

They weren’t heading to the family’s main house; for some reason, Asriel had insisted she come with him to the one in the Ruins, where he and his mother had been living before the delegation arrived. He’d told her that he had a surprise for her, but he was so anxious that she didn’t think it was going to be a good one.

Good or not, she had to admit that when Asriel opened the bedroom door and motioned her inside, she was very surprised: she backpedaled so hard that she crashed into his legs.

“It’s all right,” said Chara, very quietly, from her seat on the bed. “I wouldn’t be glad to see me, either.”

“Chara,” Asriel protested.

“It’s true.” The woman watched Frisk lean into Asriel, clutching his robe with one small hand. “Isn’t it, Frisk?” she added.

The child inhaled sharply, looking up at the Prince in alarm. “It’s all right,” he told her, smiling with such affection that she had to smile back. “I know all about you, Frisk. You’re ten years old, and you’re a girl, and you belong here. In fact, you could say you’ve come home.” He looked at Chara, beaming. “Right, sis?”

Sans must have teleported from the lab at some point – maybe in his sleep – because when he properly awoke, he was in his own room. The boss monster sat up and turned the light on with a speck of magic. A glance at the clock made him do a double take: how was it almost ten o’clock?! Sans sprang to his feet and zipped down to the living room.

No one was there, but he heard children running around outside, with the occasional shriek of happiness, or anger, or possibly disembowelment—he never could tell with kids. There was Papyrus’ voice, and Undyne’s; then he heard Frisk, and without thinking, he took another shortcut out beside the house.

Before San could get his bearings, a handful of snow hit him upside the head. “Morning, boss!” shouted Undyne. “About time!”

“GOOD MORNING, BROTHER!” Papyrus raised his head from beneath a pile of children. “WE ARE AT WAR! WOULD YOU CARE TO JOIN US?”

Sans blinked. “War?”

“Yes, indeed,” Frisk said gravely, and he looked up to see her standing on the balcony, not far above his eye level. Magic rippled through him in gentle waves as she smiled. “Is everyone ready?” she asked the monsters.

The giant skeleton came forward for a better view as the children sprang to their feet, or paws, or seahorse tail. Frisk dipped something into a narrow bottle, raised it to her mouth, and leaned over the railing to blow a stream of huge, wobbly, fast-floating bubbles.

In an instant, the kids were charging after them, leaping and clawing and even biting them joyfully out of the air. Frisk dipped the stick again and angled herself toward Papyrus to blow another round of bubbles; instead of popping them, the younger skeleton surrounded each one in blue and sent them flying in all directions, which was Undyne’s cue to materialize a short spear and leap after them, yelling, “Come back here, you cowards!”

When the last bubble had been vanquished, Frisk made even more of them, almost obscuring the pack of children; this time, Papyrus used his magic to grab all the bubbles, and instead of chasing after them, the kids tackled him again. Undyne coordinated the assault, directing her troops to surround the enemy and attack as a unit, ignoring Papyrus’ protests of being muuuurdered and that she could not have his pirate-ship bed once he was dust, because for the hundredth time even if she did have an eyepatch that did not mean she deserved to be a pirate more than him. Then everyone scattered again for Frisk to send another batch the kids’ way, and two more groups for Papyrus to keep away from Undyne.

It was hard to say who was enjoying themselves the most. Sans hadn’t seen his brother playing like this in…how long? Even some of the adult monsters were coming over to watch, standing around and chatting with each other, or asking Frisk how she’d made the bubbles and happily accepting the extra bottles she tossed down for them. It was like she’d never left…

A thought struck him, and he backed further away from the house to crane his neck all the way upward. There it was, the thin brown haze of negative energy that’d been accumulating since he absorbed the last round of it. …But—

Sans had avoided looking too directly at Frisk, and tried to take another quick peek now, only for his eyes to lock onto her. She’d taken off her cloak, revealing one of probably many new outfits: a dark-green velvet dress that accented the curves of her bust and hips, silver earrings that shimmered as she bent down to refill the bottle, and gray boots that reminded him of the fact that she had feet.

And when he finally managed to look back up toward her face, he was ambushed by the sight of a black choker. The damn thing looked like a collar, but it wasn’t even trying to be practical; it was just a little bit of lace hugging her neck, and a flagrant reminder that most things wearing collars had nothing else on. He’d contemplated keeping her as a pet, once upon a time, before he even—

Suddenly, Undyne vaulted onto his shoulder, crashing his nasal ridge into the bottom edge of the balcony. The Royal Guard Captain rapped him on the skull with the butt of her spear, dispelling the last of his lust-induced stupor. “Quit staring, moron,” she hissed, and gestured to Frisk. “C’mon, lady, we need more bad guys to kill,” the fish monster said in a normal tone, raising her voice to finish, “unless Papyrus is too weak to keep going!”

“I AM NOT!” The skeleton stomped his foot in feeble rage, trying to catch his breath as Undyne leapt down. “BUT PERHAPS…PERHAPS WE COULD TAKE A BREAK, FOR THE CHILDREN?” Two small monsters ran circles around him as he desperately added, “THEY SEEM VERY TIRED, NYEH-HEH!”

Frisk bit her lip, and Sans wanted more than ever to scoop her up for a giant hug—not only was it always hot when she did that, it meant she wanted to help Pap without hurting his feelings. Luckily for everyone, his mouth-related thoughts suddenly turned in a more wholesome direction. “Hey,” Sans murmured, catching her attention. “Ya know what you oughta do?”

The others stopped as Frisk leaned down to hear him whisper. “That’s a wonderful idea,” the priestess said warmly, and Sans felt his skull turn red. “Here, Undyne, I want the children to help me try something,” Frisk told her, dipping the wand again. “You two can supervise.”

Papyrus was happy to accept his new role, and Sans also paid close attention to Frisk’s lips as she blew a long, low stream of smaller bubbles. The kids grabbed at them and squealed as a sound followed each pop—to their delight, every bubble now contained a tiny burst of music.

Undyne reached out to poke one. “What, did you whistle into ‘em?” She jumped at the sudden sound, then laughed, popping another one. “That’s so damn cool!”

“Sans thought of it,” Frisk said. She was grinning from ear to ear, almost prancing in place. “Here!” This time, instead of a single pitch, she whistled a scale of several notes, sliding up and back down; when the children popped them, it produced a whole tangle of sounds. The adult monsters drew closer as more bubbles drifted and burst, scattering bits of music through the chilly air.

“Yo!” cried Monster Kid, bounding nearly straight up for emphasis. “Guys! Let’s try to make ‘em into a song again!”

The adults chuckled and shook their heads, but the children loved the idea. And as it turned out, they were right: the sheer futility of trying to break the bubbles in the right order was so much fun that, before they knew it, nearly every monster in the field was chasing after them. No one could hear much of anything over all the shouting and laughter, but that was okay. Everything was okay.

“Sans?”

Still smiling, the giant skeleton turned to face Toriel, noting that she was coming from the ferry and not the Ruins. “What’s all this?” she asked.

“We’re slaughtering our foes in glorious battle,” a cute little bunny said in passing. “It sounds pretty!”

“LIKE THIS, YOUR MAJESTY!” Papyrus demonstrated with a couple of quick jabs.

Toriel’s eyes widened as the sounds made a faint chord. “How wonderful!” She looked in amazement at the crowd of happy, energetic monsters. “You haven’t even received your rations yet—is this an early celebration?”

“Nah, it’s just fun,” Undyne said cheerfully. “People were fighting over who was gonna get what, and the kids were upset, so Frisk showed ‘em how she could make this stuff. Next thing you know—” Quick as scaled lightning, the Captain flicked an energy-toothpick at a bubble overhead, grinning at the resultant chime. “F sharp! Nice.” With a salute to Toriel, Undyne was off again, lifting a couple of random children onto her shoulders.

“How wonderful,” Toriel said again. She sighed, looking fondly up at the balcony. Frisk was starting to puff a bit, but clearly determined to keep going. “What a fine young woman she’s become! It’s almost like having Chara back with us.”

Sans shuffled his slippered feet. He knew it was the highest compliment Toriel could give, but the comparison really rubbed him the wrong way. Not only had he heard a lot of things recently, he couldn’t shake the dream he’d just had—the Prince so eager to have Frisk and Chara back together, and the child trying to be good, but unable to hide her fear and uncertainty…

And speaking of Asriel: “Tell her I’m sorry.” What was that about? Who was—

Suddenly, the dreams clicked together in his mind like puzzle pieces. Asriel had tricked Frisk into meeting with Chara, knowing perfectly well that the poor kid didn’t want to. Was he only sorry for that, or had something else happened afterward, awful enough to make Asriel want to apologize from beyond the friggin’ grave?

Toriel was saying something, and the skeleton shook his head. “Sorry, Tori. What was that?”

She cleared her throat. “I was asking if you’ve met the boy who’s courting her. Frisk said he’s very kind, and wealthy, but…she didn’t seem terribly enthusiastic.”

Sans almost laughed out loud. So much crap was going on that he’d actually forgotten about that guy! “Had some girl talk, huh?” he asked carelessly, shoving his emotions way, way back down and hoping his eyes weren’t glowing.

The goat monster chuckled, still watching the field. “We stayed up the other night to discuss where to distribute all the food you were bringing. Afterward, yes, we did talk about her love life.”

He made an indifferent noise. He was fine. He could do this. “I met the guy once,” he said. “Kinda boring, but I guess he could be worse.”

Toriel nodded. Her ear twitched as a longer, sweeter trill came from above—Frisk was pulling out all the stops, Sans thought proudly. “Were you there when she spoke to the fortune-teller?” she asked.

The skeleton made himself shrug, as if he wasn’t screaming internally. Stupid girl talk! How much had Frisk told her?

Well, the fact that Toriel hadn’t murdered the shit out of him meant she probably didn’t know everything yet. How she was failing to connect the dots between Frisk and Sans’ human love interest was beyond him, but he’d keep playing along for now. “Yeah, I went with her to that festival,” he said. “Pretty weird stuff. Apparently, she’s on track to have a kid soon.”

Toriel grimaced. “I certainly hope not. Frisk is much too young for that kind of responsibility.”

Sans snorted, and Toriel turned to glare at him. “Sorry, but ya haven’t seen her in action,” he said. “The first time I met her, she kept me from killin’ a whole bunch of people, all by herself, an’ she wouldn’t let ‘em kill me back. She got all bloody fixin’ up some kid who came to ‘er for help at two in the morning, she’s payin’ everything for three or four different orphanages that I know of, she keeps tabs on anyone in the whole damn kingdom who might need help, and she’s workin’ on freein’ us, too.” He shook his head. “She’s not a little kid anymore, Tori. She’s got so much crap ta deal with, and she’s been takin’ care of it all on her own. As long as she finds the right guy, it’s…”

He had to stop before he got any more worked up. Luckily, Toriel was too deep in thought to notice. “That does sound impressive, but you’re right. Her happiness depends on whether she can find a good husband, one she can trust to stand by her and care about her children—”

Now they were both grim and silent. “Just a few more,” the human called from above them.

She sounded so breathless that Sans shook his head, reaching up to tap on the railing. “Hey, Frisk? Quit it before ya pass out.”

Toriel listened for a moment, then nodded. Sans watched her stride out to the middle of the field and clap her hands. “Everyone,” she said, “I am glad you’ve enjoyed yourselves, but please return to your homes now. The Royal Guard will be here shortly to deliver your share of the supplies that Frisk arranged for us and Sans brought in last night.” The former Queen nodded benignly in their direction. “Thank you, both of you.”

The giant skeleton was rather embarrassed by the round of applause that followed, though Frisk seemed to take it in stride. Then again, it could be the fact that she was barely conscious. “Time to come in, Pap,” Sans said, jerking his head as the monsters bid each other cheerful farewells and went their separate ways. The children still seemed more excited about the bubbles than the prospect of food—were the poor little bastards just used to being hungry by now?

There was no need to ask Undyne to take care of Frisk: she had already jumped straight onto the balcony and was assisting the human inside. Sans teleported into the living room, where he immediately got in the way of the Captain half-carrying her down to the couch. “’m fine,” Frisk muttered.

Sans leaned over her, scowling. “Ya need your breath, kid. Don’t use it all up next time.” Now that he was closer, he could also see dark circles under her eyes. “How much sleep didja get last night?” he demanded, and looked at Undyne. “Were you guys at Tori’s house?”

“No,” the goat monster said, shutting the door behind her and coming to sit beside Frisk. “Mettaton kept her up so late that she spent the night at the resort.” Toriel’s hand came up, glowing green, and brushed Frisk’s cheek. “If you had stayed with me, child, I’d have made sure you rested properly.”

The priestess rubbed some feeling back into her lips. “I beg to differ,” she said a moment later. “Remember how afraid I was to fall asleep that second night? Undyne was already mad because I caught her cheating at cards—”

The Captain swelled like a pufferfish. “For the last time, I didn’t frickin’ cheat! My 6 got stuck behind my queen, and I didn’t know it was there when you asked for it!”

“Mmmm-hm.” Frisk let her head fall against Toriel’s shoulder as the goat monster stroked her hair. Sans had to look away, more irritated than ever—how stupid was it to be jealous of someone mothering her? Especially considering what she’d had for an actual mom…

“Anyway,” said Undyne. She glanced at Sans, saw his expression, and whacked him again to get his attention. “You know what your damn human did to me?” Frisk smirked as Undyne pantomimed writing huge letters across her own face. “GO FISH. Is that the dumbest thing you’ve ever heard, or what?”

Sans snickered. “What? She was probably just being supportive. You know, ‘go—”

Frisk and Toriel dissolved into laughter as the Captain smacked her forehead with one webbed hand. “Argh! That’s the same dumb thing she said!”

“It’s all right,” the human said, in what Sans gleefully recognized as her pre-pun voice. “I guess our humor is just that sofishticated.”

“NOOOOO,” moaned Papyrus, who had just come inside. “NOT YOU, TOO, NYEHH!”

“What’s wrong?” asked Sans, winking at Toriel as she covered her face with one hand. “Are you mad enough to krill someone?”

“SO HELP ME, YOU TWO, I WILL LEAVE THIS HOUSE AND NEVER—”

“But it’s so nice to sea you,” Frisk said, and Sans snorted so hard that he had to sit down before he fell over. Toriel was giggling uncontrollably, clutching her sides; Undyne just shook her head and retreated into the storage room behind the kitchen cabinet.

Papyrus looked mollified. “YES, I KNOW. BUT I—” He stopped, and they nearly died as they watched it hit him. “GRAAAAH! IF HER MAJESTY WAS NOT HERE, I’D—”

“It’s all right, Papyrus,” Toriel said behind her hand. “I know I can trust you to control your temper.” Papyrus nodded, and the goat monster added, “You’ve always been a pacifisht!”

Undyne poked her head into the kitchen, raising her voice over the din: “Pap! Get away from those nerds and come help me! We need to make room for your stuff when it gets here.”

The younger skeleton sighed dramatically, even for him. “NYEH-HEH! I SUPPOSE I MAY AS WELL. AT LEAST SOMEONE AROUND HERE WILL BE DOING SOMETHING USEFUL!”

“Thank you. You’re the least shellfish person we know,” squeaked Frisk, at which Papyrus made an incoherent sound and stormed off into the kitchen.

Sans was pounding the floor, the women nearly sobbing. “Children—children, please,” Toriel said weakly, wiping her eyes. “Really, it’s time to calm down now.” A long pause… “We can’t keep kraken up like this!”

“Oh my God, they’re gonna kill themselves,” Undyne grumbled from the storage room. They had closed the cabinet door, but it wasn’t soundproof enough. “Let’s move some of this stuff to the shed, and…hey, what’s this?” She picked up a heavy package lying in the back corner. “Huh. Looks like one of Frisk’s. Pap, go ask—”

“SANS! POSSIBLY FRISK!” Papyrus charged into the living room, hoisting the box over his head and nearly tripping over his brother. “IS THIS A FORGOTTEN PUZZLE?! MAY I OPEN IT TO KEEP IT COMPANY?”

“Oh!” Frisk gave a last snrk and accepted a clean handkerchief from Toriel to wipe her face. “Actually, Papyrus, that one is for Sans.”

“Wha?” The giant skeleton sat up and quirked a brow at her. “What’re you talkin’ about? I was with ya when we bought all this crap, and I don’t remember you gettin’ me anything.”

“That’s because you weren’t paying attention,” the priestess retorted.

…She had a point. There had been quite a few times when they were in a shop and he was so bored that she could’ve been plotting the death of all monsterkind without him noticing.

“SURPRISE PUZZLES ARE THE BEST KIND! OPEN IT ALREADY!” urged Papyrus, shoving the gift at his brother’s face.

“Yeah, boss,” Undyne said from the kitchen. “Don’t be so damn shy.”

“I’m not bein’ shy! I just…I wasn’t expectin’ it.” Scowling, Sans grabbed the package and dug his phalanges into the lid. One good rip would get this over w—

“Sans!” Frisk’s voice made him hunch his shoulders like a guilty kid. “If you tear it open like that and break something, I will end you! Do you understand?”

The others watched the colossal skeleton set the package down gently, unwrapping the paper and moving it aside as though it was made of glass. Toriel and Undyne exchanged disbelieving glances as Sans located the box’s tucked-in corners, eased them loose, and picked at the ribbons tying it shut.

But a moment later, as he removed the last layers of tissue paper, their amusement faded into gasps and murmurs. Inside the box lay a chessboard gleaming in white marble and flawless onyx, each of the pieces individually wrapped and set in neat rows.

Undyne chose one at random and peeled the paper away to reveal a knight astride a black pegasus, wings spread and hooves ready to strike. “Whoa!” She picked another, this one a rook carved in the shape of a ruined tower, complete with crumbling bricks and a few tiny bird’s nests in the windows. “Where’d you find this?! Are you gonna teach him how to play?”

“We did most nights back at the castle.” Frisk shrugged. “He beat me every time.”

“Incredible,” murmured Toriel. She took the knight and held it up to examine the sculpting of its plumelike tail. “Humans have such an amazing capacity for beauty. I never could understand…” The goat monster sighed, handing the piece back. “What do you think, Sans?”

Sans couldn’t answer. He’d calmed down a lot after all the fish puns, and he would have been fine just hanging out with everyone until the Royal Guard came by. He hadn’t known Frisk was going to give him anything, much less something beautiful and thoughtful and completely perfect—like her, dammit. How was he supposed to stop feeling all these feelings when she kept doing things?

The pause became more and more uncomfortable as he glowered at the chessboard, heat building around his SOUL until he wanted more than ever to just rip his clothes off right there. “PSST! BROTHER!” Papyrus nudged him. “YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO SAY, ‘THANK YOU FOR THE MAGNIFICENT PUZZLE, NYEH-HEH! I SHOULD ASK THE GREAT PAPYRUS TO PLAY IT WITH ME, AND WEEP GENTLY WHEN I LOSE!’”

Sans fidgeted, and Frisk looked expectant. “This’s…ya know, ya didn’t hafta waste a bunch more money on somethin’ we—” His head snapped up, startling everyone. “Hey, there’s the Royal Guard! They probably need help, right? Let’s go help!”

“SANS,” Papyrus began, and huffed as his brother disappeared. “THAT’S NOT WHAT I TOLD HIM TO SAY AT ALL! HOW DID HE GET IT SO VERY WRONG?”

Sans was not surprised by the others’ reactions when they joined him a few minutes later at the cart by the town Christmas tree. He could only imagine what they’d been saying, though the glare Undyne was giving him made her opinion pretty clear.

“Good day,” Toriel said to the cat monster holding the supply list, ignoring Sans entirely. The cart had just come through Waterfall, the sacks and crates patterned with condensation that was already freezing into ice crystals. “I have a very selfish request,” the former Queen continued. “As you know, I was awake for the entire night, and I am extremely weary. I would like to bring my share home with me now, unless of course you need me to—”

“You were up the whole night, Lady Toriel?” Frisk repeated, one hand on the side of the cart. She frowned, then rounded on Sans so fast that he flinched. “You want to be helpful, don’t you? Then you can take her and her things back to the Ruins!” An imperious gesture at the three guards. “The list, please,” she ordered in her High Priestess voice.

The cat-lady handed it over, bemused. The tiny human ran her finger down the page, nodded, and turned to the cart. “It should all in that crate, there, and that stack of—look where I’m pointing! Yes, that one, and those over there. No, don’t put it—”

Sans obeyed her as fast as he could, setting the boxes neatly beside Toriel. Frisk checked them over again, then handed the list back to the feline guard. “That should be correct, but if you find any discrepancies, let me know. Has everything gone according to plan so far? No thefts or serious disputes?”

“No, milady,” the guard replied. “We should be finished by this evening at the latest.”

Frisk smiled. “Excellent work. Please keep it up.”

The Royal Guard all saluted. Toriel’s eyebrows were raised, and Sans wished she’d look at him so he could mouth Told you so. “Good job, guys,” said Undyne, not bothering to hide her grin. “It looks like you’ve got this under control, so Frisk and I are gonna go see Alphys now. You coming, Pap?”

“HMM.” He glanced from her to his brother and crossed his arms, clearly torn. “SHOULDN’T I STAY AND HELP PUT OUR FOOD AWAY?”

“Oh, but Sans wants to help so much, we shouldn’t take that from him.” Undyne looked daggers – spears? – at the giant skeleton. “He can come right back here and do it after he drops off Her Majesty. Right?”

Dammit. “Right,” grunted Sans.

Frisk was already starting to turn away. He cast around for an excuse to talk to her again, and said, “Hey.” She glanced at him as he rummaged in his inner pockets. “Ya want those invoices back?”

The priestess frowned at him. He hated it when she did that, especially when he deserved it. “I suppose it could be useful when I talk to His Majesty.” She started to extend a hand, and her eyes widened. “That’s right,” she said to the guards. “Did you give him my note?”

“Yes.” The dragon guard cleared his throat. “He said no.”

“What R02 meant to say,” the cat monster, “is that King Asgore regrets he will not be available to speak with anyone today.”

“But he does want to talk to Sans,” the rabbit said helpfully, “and Dr. Alphys.”

“I see,” Frisk murmured. “Thank you.” As Undyne glared at R01, the human stepped back, pulling her cloak around her. “You’d better keep them to show His Majesty, then.”

Sans shrugged, rolled the papers back up, and opened his coat wider to find exactly where they’d been. All he could think about was reaching over to tug down her choker where it was riding too high on her throat; he forgot what else was in his pockets till he noticed her staring at something inside his coat. His SOUL tingled in alarm: the King’s golden envelope was sticking up partway, with the letters FRISK D showing. “Sans? What is that?”

“…Uh.” Fuck. It was too late to disappear again. He glanced around at everyone listening, and at Frisk, who was already unhappy because of him. Was this really the time to tell her what her father was planning, and that the humans all knew her name now? “It’s…I-I’ll show ya later, I promise. There’s a bunch of stuff we’ve gotta talk about.”

Her frown deepened. “Agreed.” Just like that, Frisk turned to smile at Papyrus. “Shall we?”

“CERTAINLY!” He gallantly held his arm out to her, neither of them noticing how Sans’ socket twitched.

Before the bigger skeleton could say something stupid, a touch on his radius made him spin around. “If you could take me home now, I would greatly appreciate it,” Toriel said quietly.

“Sure.” He gave Frisk one last glance. “Have fun, guys.”

Undyne made another face at him, and Papyrus waved. “GOODBYE, SANS! HAVE FUN! PLEASE BE USEFUL TO HER MAJESTY AND NOT RUN OFF AGAIN BECAUSE YOU ARE EMOTIONALLY INCOMPETENT!”

Sans twitched again, and Frisk smirked. “Have a good rest, Lady Toriel,” she said over her shoulder.

“Enjoy yourselves,” Toriel replied cheerfully. But the moment the trio was out of sight, the goat monster’s smile vanished. “Back to the Ruins, please,” she said coolly.

Sans had a headache already. “Yes’m,” he mumbled. At least all this inner turmoil meant he was generating plenty of magic: she laid a hand on his arm, he made a swiping gesture at the crates, and they were all standing in the entryway of Toriel’s house, easy as butterscotch-cinnamon pie.

“I wish I could do that,” the goat monster commented, not for the first time. “Can you bring those to the kitchen for me?” She strode ahead, briskly opening cabinets and moving things aside to make room. “Also, please tell me what the matter is.”

Sans grunted, twitching a finger to waft the crates over. “Do me a favor, Tori, and gimme a check. You can probably see it for yerself.”

Toriel obligingly turned and squinted at his SOUL. “Good heavens,” she said after a moment, and looked up at him. “Sans, what in the world…?”

If it looked half as turbulent as it felt, then it was probably pretty scary. “I wasn’t kiddin’ the other night,” he muttered.

“I…didn’t think you were. Still…” She rubbed her eyes, swaying a little with sheer tiredness. “I did want to ask you something. I heard you telling the guards last night that you inspected the carts alongside someone you trusted. By any chance, was that…?”

Well, there was a convenient misunderstanding if he’d ever heard one. “Was that what? Someone I’m totally nuts about an’ hafta stay away from because she’s a human, and just friggin’ deal with it?” He rapped on his chest. “Does it look like I’m dealin’ with it?”

“No, you are not.” Toriel crossed her arms at the waist. “Sans. I know this must be difficult for you, but—”

“Let’s play pretend for a minute,” he said conversationally. “Imagine I came up to you sometime real soon with a human an’ said, ‘Here ya go, meet the wife.’” Just saying the word made his SOUL ache further. “What would you do?”

Her eyes narrowed to golden slits. “It would depend,” Toriel said with deceptive calmness, “whether you would prefer I be kind, or truthful. Do you want my blessing to try and find happiness for a few short years, and to be even more alone in the world once she d—”

That did it. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, Tori! Ya think I don’t know how screwed I am?” Sans snarled, and her mouth fell open. “I didn’t tell you about this so you could give me a kick in the goddamn teeth! I told ya ‘cause I wanted to talk with somebody who might have some idea what I’m goin’ through! If that’s too much to ask, just fuckin’ forget about it!”

“I am sorry, Sans! I truly am!” There was a puff of smoke as Toriel threw her hands up. “If you could marry a human, I would be the first to congratulate you! But as things are…” Her face contorted. “What does my opinion even matter? You know that I have no power here, no matter how many people keep calling me ‘Majesty’! I can do nothing to help you!”

“You could still be my goddamn friend! That’s all I wanted!” He kicked at nothing. “But no, yer so worried about botherin’ little ol’ Gorey that—”

Whump.

Sans stared at the scorch mark at his feet, a smoking, blackened ring on the tiles. Then he looked at Toriel, whose hand was still aimed at the floor, her chest heaving as though she’d run the entire length of the Underground. “Do not. Talk to me. About. Asgore,” she said through gritted fangs. “That wretched man has already cost me my entire family! Do you think I enjoy catering to his paranoia and living in fear that someone else I care for will be banished, or die? What do you think he would do if you were to wed a human? What would happen to you, and to her? If Asgore decided you were truly a threat—”

He could feel his eyes burning, and didn’t trust himself to say anything. Toriel gulped. “It is not safe for you to marry a human, Sans. It is not safe for any human down here! You’ve seen it for yourself! Frisk is the only one he will even tolerate, and he could still…” Another shake of her head, ears flapping against her cheeks. “You know Asgore. All he has to do is ignore her until she leaves. It would be so easy, wouldn’t it?” The goat-woman buried her face in her hands. “Those damned men would just shrug and say that she failed in her mission, and I would never see her again! I can’t lose anyone else, Sans! I can’t—”

The skeleton’s anger subsided as he watched the former Queen’s shoulders rise and fall. He took a couple of steps toward her, sliding his hands into his pockets. “What happened with Chara?” he asked quietly. “Why wouldn’t he let her come back?”

Toriel’s fingers curled, claws digging into her muzzle. “It wasn’t her fault,” she muttered, eyes hard and dry. “He said he didn’t blame her, but he still agreed to send her away. And when that bastard human would not marry her as he promised, Chara needed us—she needed her family! But Asgore said she was lying, and he sent her away again! I didn’t see my little girl for ten years, Sans! And then—”

Sans stayed silent. Toriel let her arms fall, and slid down against the cabinet until she was slumped on the kitchen floor. “I got her back, and it was too late. She hated us both,” she said dully. “She died hating me, Sans. And she was right. I couldn’t protect her from Asgore, and when the accident happened, I could not protect her or Asriel. I was right there, and I could do nothing! All I did was send the humans away, and he even begrudged me that!” The goat monster gripped her robe, nearly puncturing the fabric. “Now my only friend comes to me for a sympathetic ear, and what do I do? I sneer at him for confiding in me and complain about my troubles!” She scrubbed her eyes with her sleeve. “I’m completely useless, as always.”

“Don’t say that, Tori! Remember that one little thing where ya kept the humans from declarin’ war on us an’ sealing the whole damn Underground? Besides…” Sans shuddered as something else came to him. “For all we know, he woulda had Kris killed, too.” He crouched to her eye level. “You saved Frisk’s life, Tori. Are you sayin’ that wasn’t worth somethin’?”

She swallowed again. “I…I don’t—”

“An’ she grew up to be High Priestess, and she saved my life when I got caught. If it wasn’t for you, she’d be dead, and I’d be dead or worse.” He shook his head. “If she was dead, we wouldn’t be gettin’ any food deliveries, or monsters comin’ home, or random bubble parties—” Despite himself, he chuckled. “Or fish puns—”

Toriel managed a smile. “That was fun, wasn’t it? Poor Papyrus.” She gave a long, deep sigh. “I may have saved her life, but as far as I am concerned, you are the reason she has come back to us. Thank you, Sans.” The goat monster got to her feet and wiped her eyes again on her sleeve. “I…I still don’t know what to tell you about your human. I haven’t even asked you her name, what she is like, how far your relationship has progressed—may I assume you intend to keep courting her?”

“Uh…” Sans ducked his head, scuffing his slipper over the burned floor tiles. “Tell you the truth, she’s kinda the one courtin’ me.”

“Sans!” the goat monster scolded him. “You’ve found a woman with enough magic, strength of mind, and good taste to fall in love with you, and you’re letting her do all the work?”

The skeleton scratched his neck vertebrae. “…Yeah?”

Toriel gave him one of her squinty, pursed-mouth glares, and he held up his hands. “I know, I know! It’s just…there’s all this stuff, but it’s her, an’ I never met a her before, an’ I—”

“All right, all right.” Toriel sighed again. “I still wish you would change your mind, but I understand that it’s not so simple.” She couldn’t conceal a yawn. “We can talk more when I’ve had some rest. I promise.” To his surprise, she took his hand and gave it a good squeeze. “In the meantime, go and help the Royal Guards, and then apologize to Frisk. That was the most lovely gift imaginable, and you behaved as though she’d handed you a steaming pile of—”

“Yeah, yeah.” Sans lifted one shoulder. “Okay, Ma, I promise I’ll be good. Go get some sleep.”

“Yes, dear. And, Sans—” She gave him a look he couldn’t interpret. “I hate to be intrusive, but…if everyone is gathered again this evening, could I please join you? If it’s all right with the others?”

Sans made a rude noise. “Of course I’ll come ‘n get you. We’re almost halfway through her offishal visit.”

Toriel laughed. “Well, water you still doing here? Go on!”

He chucked, raising a hand. “‘Kay. See ya, Toriel.”

“Thank you, Sans.” She swatted at him playfully, letting him dodge out of the way. “Now, shoo!”

#songfell #why am i like this for reals

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