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blackasteriia · 5 years

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Xion in KH3 Rambles

Okay, so for posterity I will state that I have not played a single Kingdom Hearts game in my life. However I did binge watch the entire series’ cutscenes in chronological order like a couple weeks ago and short of me throwing down a lot of money to purchase a playstation or KH coming to switch, that’s the best you’ll get out of me. At the time I made this blog I had not yet watched Kingdom Hearts 3 but I was already attached to Xion, so I just went ahead and made her. So, before I get into this, a few notes:

One, watching Chain of Memories, 358/2 Days, and the first two hours of Kingdom Hearts 2, in quick sequences makes Sora awakening a hard whiplash. Like a complete 180° shift in the tone. Because you have the eery, psychological psuedo-horror of CoM, followed by the tragedy of 358/2 days, and Roxas’ struggle in the opening of KH2.... washed down by Sora waking-up and celebrating happily with Goofy and Donald. And it’s like, boy, do you understand that at least two people just died for you? Mind you, this was not the intended viewing experience, at all, but it lead me to a few questions.

Why have Xion/ Roxas’ plotline at all? I am convinced that if you removed CoM, 358/2, and KH2 opening, it would have little bearing on the overall plot. You would just have to restructure a couple things and shift around a few characters. In Kingdom Hearts 3 you’d have to find find a couple new names for Organization 13. However, then you could run Birth by Sleep, to Kingdom Hearts 1, to Kingdom Hearts 2, to Fragmentary Passage, and finish with Kingdom Hearts 3, and the entire series would be unbelievably simpler, and not that much different in terms of the majority of the player experience. Never mind that the entire plot line occurs to be retconned and provides a difficult, if not uncomfortable Aesop.

What is the thematic story of 358/2 Days? This to me is the most important part of this whole experience. There is an emphasis of friendship and memory, the characters discuss it quite a bit. Xion returning to Sora, disappearing, is treated as tragic by Axel and Roxas-- To them she has essentially died. However Xion insists that this is the best possible way for her, it’s the right thing to do. It is essentially, in the subtext of the story, this: Xion has stolen Roxas powers and Sora’s memories, she must give them back, it is the right thing to do, she must die so others can live. Except, as Axel points out, this stinks, Xion didn’t steal them, she was made and forced to take something she did not want. So ultimately the story is tragic, inevitable and dark. The theme of 358/2 Days is not friendship, but the falling out of friendship.

The ending of Kingdom Hearts 2 and Kingdom Hearts 3 implies that a nobody returning to their origin is a process of completion, they are made whole. Axel becomes Lea, who he originally was when his heart returns to him. Saix becomes Isa, and less of a jerk, etc. Xion, Namine, Roxas, and so on, are inherently different. They aren’t just empty bodies, because Sora and Kairi still have their hearts, no they are pieces of lost memory. Nomura has some complicated relationship with hearts written out, like a heart is made of memory (then why don’t nobodies, who remember things, have hearts???) So what we end-up with in the story is Xion and Roxas are their own unique, individuals who experience an entire character arc but are forced into a self-sacrifice on the basis that they were created. They were, from in-universe and a meta text, created to die.

Which I mean, lmao, even Nomura knew about or at least figured out was family-unfriendly because Roxas, Xion, and Namine all get brought back to life in Kingdom Hearts 3. The plot is functional at least, I’ll rewatch the Sea Salt Trio reunion like, fifty times don’t worry. I also won’t pretend I can change Roxas/ Xion’s storyline without changing the entirety of KH3. So all i’m going to do is work this blogs canon into Kingdom Hearts 3.

So I decided that Xion would survive 358/2 Days for a few reasons. In the game Xion is presented two choices: Go along with Namine and be destroyed to save Sora/ Roxas; Go along with Axel and Organization 13, assemble Kingdom Hearts, and survive at the cost of Roxas. Basically it’s a self-sacrifice versus a selfish choice. However that sacrifice is established as utterly meaningless and stupid. Xion tries to get Roxas to destroy Kingdom Hearts for her, but he fails, and it doesn’t happen until Kingdom Hearts 2. So can we figure out a better, third option that fits thematically with the story, fulfills Xion’s character, and doesn’t require a retcon?

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Okay, so Xion has just met with Namine and been told what she has to do. Axel asks what I consider a crucial question:

“Xion, what are you going to do?”

Xion answers with a self-defeated response, this is what she has to do and it is what she will do because it is the right thing to do. Axel responds that this may be best but it’s not right. Up to this point he’s correct and is making a good point. However forcing her to return is no better than forcing her to self-sacrifice, this is where Xion and Axel have to part ways. I think this conversation can provide a final perspective Xion needs. See, Axel is trying to desperately keep their trio together, hold their friendship up even as it falls in shambles. He is doing this to the point of forcing her to remain. Xion thinks she’s saving them and Roxas is oblivious to the internal strife between her and Axel. Ultimately, they fight, Axel wins to little true victory as in the next scene Xion sacrifices herself.

I propose an alternate sacrifice. While, Roxas, and Axel, cling to their friendship, which could never truly flourish under the pressure of Organization 13, Xion decides to let it go. Xion fights Roxas and forces him to forget her, essentially fakes her death, and leaves. When Namine breaks apart her memories to eradicate the siphon, much of the memory of the past year slips into an unconnected, tangled mess that will take just as long to unravel. In essence, Xion sacrifices her friendship and sense of security while affirming that those things do not define her. It would be, after a game of characters calling Xion: heartless, empty, a puppet, ‘it,’ and a tool to be used; An affirmation of her growth and individuality while maintaining a bittersweet, sense of tragedy. When presented with unsavory choices, she makes her own. In the same way that we grow-up and leave our childhood friendship behinds, Xion must move on.

Finally, in Kingdom Hearts 3, Xion would play a very similar role in the game. However she would not be apart of Organization 13 again. There is little reason for Xion to be apart of Organization 13 in the original game and even less here. Because the entire Sea Salt Trio reunion is just a big deux ex machina with Roxas randomly showing-up. So Xion at some point in that sequence, shows-up saves Axel, helps revive Roxas, we’re back in canon from that plot point on. Nomura can screw with his own ending.

I could write an extended rewrite of Kingdom Hearts 3 where Xion and Roxas’ plots are far more integrated into the plot, instead of screwing around with the data-Twilight Town red herring, but I want to interfere with canon as little as possible.

TLDR: We’re going to duex ex machina Xion into KH3

#✰*✦ This is the idiot speaking ⎧OOC⎫#✰*✦More than a mannequin on the strings⎧Headcanon⎫#✰*✦The golden twilight mirrors his soul⎧Roxas⎫#✰*✦Burning sunsets in the spectrum of red⎧Axel⎫#✰*✦ Do not go gentle⎧XION⎫

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constant-calum · 6 years

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Watercolors (Brandon Arreaga) ~ Chapter Nine: Cézanne

Summary: 17 year old Amina Parker was far from a blank canvas, but he still managed to make a finger painting with her love.

A/N: I really don’t know what to say about this story. Should I make a taglist? If so let me know if you would like to be on it.

Part Eight Part Ten

Zane was always dramatic; Amina knew that. Even still, there were times she didn’t understand her best friend. Why Zane felt the need to text her but then refused to talk to her until she could see her the next day was one of those things she wouldn’t ever get.

Zane lounged around Amina’s living room, hair up in a messy bun and stained sweatpants low on her hips. She always took “make yourself at home” very literally. Amina sat next to her, alternating between folding clothes and shoving potato chips into her mouth.

“So why am I in trouble?” Amina managed through a mouthful of food.

Zane perked up, as if she suddenly remembered exactly why she was there in the first place. “Zion told me something very interesting yesterday. He said he walked in on you and Brandon…”

“We were just dancing. It wasn’t like that.”

“Dancing with your back to his chest? That sounds a lot like grinding to me.” Zane cocked an accusatory eyebrow.

Amina groaned, feeling the heat rise to the apples of her cheeks. She didn’t know what she expected Zane to say, but she knew it wasn’t that. Amina wasn’t that type of girl. And judging from the month she had known Brandon, he wasn’t that type either.

“You and I both know that wasn’t what happened.”

Zane shrugged, reclining further into the sofa. “I don’t know, Mimi. Zion seemed pretty convinced.”

“Trust me, we weren’t doing anything like that.”

“If you say so…”

Zane reached across Amina’s lap to reach into the bag of Lays. She smiled happily as she crunched down on the chips. Amina knew barbeque was her favorite. Amina always preferred original.

When the doorbell rang, it was Zane who popped up to open it first. Amina barely noticed; it was custom for Zane to act like it were her house. Amina found it somewhat comforting.

“Mimi!” Zane called from the doorway. “Brandon’s here.”

Amina could hear the pitterpatter of her younger sister’s feet from upstairs. She immediately shot up, running for the door before her little sister had the chance to make it down the stairs. She vowed that she would never let Cheyenne embarrass her in front of Brandon again. Zane retreated back into the house once Amina appeared.

Brandon looked comfortable today, probably more comfortable than Amina had ever seen him look. He was in a simple white tee with grey joggers and a denim jacket: the stereotypical look for boys their age. In true Brandon fashion, however, he still sported his two daily chains and a nice gold watch.

“Surprise surprise. Look who it is! The inventor of the human shield.”

Brandon smiled, leaning against the doorframe. “Glad you’re giving me the credit.”

“To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“I just wanted to hang out.”

Amina’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Surely Brandon did not expect to be able to hang out on such short notice.

“Right now?” Amina felt herself stuttering over her words.

“If you can. If not, I can always walk back to Porter’s.”

“Zane’s here…”

Brandon shrugged, cocking his head to the side in an adorably childish manner. “Zion may have said he was going to call her to pick her up in a bit.”

As if on cue, Zane came bounding towards the front door, jacket and cell phone in hand. Amina just rolled her eyes at Brandon, wondering how he made this all work.

“Z called, he wants to hang out. I’ll see you later Mimi. Bye Brandon!” Zane squeezed her way between the two in the doorway, making a right down the street to her own house.

Brandon raised an eyebrow at Amina, smirking softly. Amina couldn’t tell if she was endeared or ticked off. It was definitely a combination of the two.

“Okay, I don’t know what kind of voodoo magic that was, but still. I’m black, Brandon. You can’t just show up to black people’s houses like that and expect for my parents to say yes.”

Amina tensed at the sound of soft footsteps behind her. She knew she was going to be grounded. She threw her head back in distress, turning to face her mother.

“Well hi there,” Nurse Parker said in her sweet, southern drawl. “Who is this, Amina?”

“Brandon Arreaga, ma’am. Nice to meet you. I go to school with Amina.” Brandon extended a hand for Amina’s mother to shake.

“Nice to meet you too. Not to be rude or anything, but what are you doing here? You and Amina hang out on Fridays, right?”

Brandon blushed. “We do! I was just wondering if it would be okay for Amina and I to hang out for a little bit? Just a short walk around the neighborhood.”

Amina leaned against the doorframe, watching the encounter with anxiety. It was often that Amina’s mother scared people. Maybe it was the scrubs, or the overly nice accent, but everyone always told Amina how afraid they were of her mother. In all honesty, Amina was a little afraid of her too.

“I suppose that would be fine,” Nurse Parker looked back and forth between the two. “Mimi, sweetie, go run up and grab a sweatshirt or something. As long as you two are back in an hour, we should be alright.”

Amina nodded, wordlessly doing what she was told. Obedience wasn’t an option in her family, it was an expectation. Neither Amina nor her older brother went through a teenage rebellion phase, simply because it was not an option. When her parents asked her to jump, Amina’s only question was “how high?”

Amina threw the clunky, red sweatshirt over her braided hair, grabbing her phone and wallet to head out. Brandon, unsurprisingly, was talking to her mother once Amina returned. She called a goodbye over her shoulder, whisking Brandon away from the doorway. He chuckled.

“Someone’s in a rush.”

“I just didn’t want her to ruin your mood. She has a reputation of doing that to my friends, ya know.”

Brandon’s upper arm brushed Amina’a shoulder as the two continued down the street. The day was beautiful for late September: crisp, bright, and sunny. Amina’s running sneakers crunched against the few leaves that had begun to fall.

“So why did you want to take this impromptu walk?” Amina asked, looking up at Brandon’s profile.

“I don’t know. I guess I just needed a break from the chaos of Austin’s house. Plus, it kind of forced me to stop obsessing over my art. Midterms are due in two weeks.”

Amina nodded, averting her gaze back to the cracked sidewalk in front of her. “And do you have any idea what you’re choosing for your final piece?”

“I know I want to paint, which is a start.”

The two hung left, turning the corner onto the major road perpendicular to Amina’s. The neighborhood changed right around here. The houses instantly got more compact, closer together. Small bodegas and corner stores began to pop up at the blink of an eye. It was a very different Towson, New Jersey than people at Amina’s school were used to.

Amina expected Brandon to ask to turn back, or to ask why everything had changed, or what was wrong with this neighborhood. He didn’t, however. Brandon just pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose and kept walking forward, uneffected.

“Do you know what the subject of the painting is going to be?” Amina found herself asking.

“I have some ideas, but none of them are concrete. I’m just worried my head won’t be in it, and then I’ll have shitty art.”

Amina stopped him, pulling him by his elbow until he turned to face the smaller girl. Brandon was a lot of things, but he was never insecure.

“Look, B, I know you have a lot going on. I’m sorry about the whole Valerie thing. No one deserves that. But you and I both know that you could never produce shitty art. You’re amazingly talented. Don’t you ever forget that.”

Brandon watched Amina’s curvy figure continue walking ahead, not even waiting for his response. Amina knew what she was doing. Brandon needed strong encouragement. If he wasn’t going to encourage himself, Amina was happy to do it for him.

“Coming?” Amina asked, looking back to see Brandon stuck in his place. He just shook his head and jogged to catch up.

. . .

October first was one of Amina’s favorite days of the entire year. Since she was 14, she had a tradition: Black lipstick. She always started off the month with her favorite glittery black lipstick with the hopes of a good Halloween. October first, 2017 was no different.

“You look so badass,” Edwin commented at lunch that day. “Not everyone can pull off black lipstick.”

Amina smiled, ducking her head slightly. “Thanks. It’s probably one of my favorite colors.”

Next to Edwin, Austin marvelled over the tube that Amina had let them see. He kept twisting the stick higher and lower, seemingly mesmerized by the lipstick.

“How do they get the glitter in there?” He asked.

Zane laughed, patting Austin on the shoulder sympathetically. “Oh, sweetie. You have a lot to learn.”

Austin’s eyes grew to the size of saucers. “Mimi, are you going to be a makeup guru?! Can you teach me how to be a makeup guru?”

Now it was Amina’s turn to laugh. She took a sip of her raspberry lemonade, the glitter of the straw twinkling in time with her matte lips. She was amazed at how pure Austin was. From day one, she knew he was a sweetheart.

“I was not planning to be a makeup guru, Austin. But, I can still teach you. I can teach you what I know at least.”

Austin nodded. “Boom, awesome. That means Amina’s doing makeovers this Friday.”

The rest of the boys around the table groaned. Nick looked especially unhappy with this declaration, nudging Amina with his shoulder.

“Look what you did,” he complained. “Now I’m gonna have to walk around in a full face of makeup.”

Amina cocked an eyebrow in a challenging manner. “What? You’re too macho for makeup?”

“Ain’t nobody putting makeup on me, that’s for sure.” Zion interjected from across the table. Zane swatted his hand as he reached for one of her apple slices.

“What’s wrong with that?” Austin questioned.

“Makeup is for girls. Let’s keep it that way.” Nick responded, seeming final in his tone. An alarm went off in Amina’s head.

“And why is that?” Amina’s fingers tightened around her glittery, reusable cup. “Who said makeup is just for girls? Why can’t people express themselves the way they want? If boys wanna wear makeup, then why shouldn’t they?”

Brandon nodded from next to Amina. “Exactly. I don’t know about forcing boys to put on makeup, but if they want to wear it, what’s stopping them?”

“Listen,” Zion raises his arm from around Zane’s shoulders. “I’m not trying to start shit. But I agree with Nick. Historically, makeup is for girls. Girls look good in makeup. So why not just leave makeup to the girls of the world?”

Zane looked shocked. “You really feel that way?”

Zion nodded.

“That’s a really ignorant point of view to have. By those standards, I must be a boy because I don’t wear makeup, or because I love Thursday night football. And any boy who wants to wear the color pink, or wears makeup, or likes fashion must be a girl? All these gender roles and stereotypes are fake, Z.”

“That’s not what I’m saying. I just think that there are girl things, and there are guy things. Some of them overlap, yes, but some of them don’t. And that’s fine. We should keep it that way.”

Zane scoffed, rolling her eyes. “I didn’t know I was dating ignorant trash, wow.”

As Zane gathered her things, Amina averted her eyes. Leave it to Zane to cause a scene in the middle of the cafeteria. As she walked away, Zion’s calls for her to come back gained some attention from the surrounding tables. Amina just hid her face in Nick’s shoulder. She always despised causing a scene.

“Fuck, that girl is such a piece of work,” Zion said after a moment of silence.

“I mean what you said is kind of messed up, dude.” Edwin shrugged unapologetically.

“How was I supposed to know she’d freak out like that?” Zion retorted.

Brandon looked disappointed. “She’s your girl, Z. You’re supposed to know her better than anyone. That includes knowing what not to say. You should’ve stopped the minute she disagreed.”

Amina was glued to her seat, mouth taped shut. Realistically, she knew that she should have been the one to speak up about what ticked her friend off, but like everything, she felt like it wasn’t her place.

“You’re allowed to disagree, though, Z.” Nick spoke up.

Edwin shook his head. “If my mama taught me anything in life, it’s that your girl is always right.”

“You’re all stupid,” Amina muttered under her breath, catching the attention of every boy at the table. Zion looked at her challengingly. “This isn’t an issue of ‘your girl is always right.’ Zane’s allowed to be upset if her boyfriend has a slightly bigoted opinion. I’m sure you’ll work it out between the two of you. Relationships need fixing sometimes.”

Zion scoffed, rolling his eyes. “I’m not sure I want there to be a relationship if that’s how she acts at the first sign of a disagreement.”

That was the first time Zion and Zane broke up. Amina knew it wouldn’t be the last based on the fact that they got back together two days later. Amina sandwiched her cell in between her shoulder and ear, using both hands to write an outline for her new adventure story.

“I just couldn’t break up with him over something that stupid,” Zane rambled. “And when he showed up with the flowers and the best sex I’ve ever had in my life, I had to take him back.”

Amina just hummed into the phone, not really focusing on Zane’s words in the slightest. It wasn’t that she didn’t care about her best friend’s dilemmas, but she knew that nothing she could ever say would ease the drama in Zane’s life.

A wet curl slid its way into Amina’s eyes, causing her to huff and flick her entire head back. Zane’s voice faltered for a second.

“Honestly, I blame Brandon for this whole thing.” She stated.

Amina’s head perked up at the mention of his name. “Why Brandon? He didn’t do anything.”

“Z said that Brandon kept pushing him to apologize and get back together with me. If he hadn’t done that then maybe my feelings would still be intact.”

“Your relationship drama is not Brandon’s fault. He only pushed Zion to apologize because he knows how much you two care for each other. You should be thanking him, not blaming him for your issues. He was just being a good friend to both of you, and you should appreciate that.” Amina let out in one long, labored breath.

Zane scoffed from the other end of the line. “I was joking, chill. Since when did you get so defensive about him?”

Amina floundered for a second. Her heart pounded in her chest, the type of rhythm that only came with anger. When did she get so defensive over Brandon? Amina just blamed it on her teenage hormones, and not the fondness she had admittedly developed for the boy.

“That’s not the point. I was just saying that you’re doing a lot of complaining over something that should be a good thing! You and Zion obviously really care for each other, so enjoy it. And maybe don’t be so willing to break up with him next time.”

Zane’s father’s voice was muffled in the background of the call. Amina heard her best friend before being dismissed with a quick ‘I have to go.’ Zane was never quite good at taking advice, especially Amina’s.

Amina just picked up her purple glitter pen and kept outlining her adventure story. The main character would be a boy, different from the usual heroine that saved the day in all of Amina’s stories. He would be tall, artsy, and a little nerdy—but he would secretly be a superhero. Amina groaned, reading her outline over. She wondered when Brandon had started to infect her mind, and how on earth did she not notice.

#watercolors #escritos #arreaga #brandon arreaga #prettymuch #prettymuch fanfic #prettymuch imagine

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stlgeekgirl · 6 years

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For Day Three of Molly Hooper Appreciation Week we have Get the Party_____

Here’s my contribution.

It’s My Party

“Let’s get this party started!”

The resounding cheers and wolf whistles followed Molly from the lab as she left to head back to her office.

The problem with sharing a birthday with the ebullient Registrar Zoe Hunter was that she drew all their co-workers around her with her talks of pub crawls that nobody ever remembered that it was her birthday too. Although, to be fair, not very many people ever knew it was her birthday. Mike remembered, of course, but that was because it’d been on her CV. He usually left a cupcake on her desk, red velvet, her favorite. But this year Mike was on vacation, a well-deserved one truth be told.

She walked into her small office, shutting the door and cutting off the cheering down the hallway. Her desk only held folders with reports, her landline and her computer. No cupcake this year. Swallowing back the disappointment, she sat down at her desk to begin working on the reports. With Mike on vacation, she was Supervisor on call which meant, she was signing off on all the reports that needed approval. She’d be here well past when she was supposed to go home. Not that there was anything to go home to. Toby, of course, but no friends, no family, no significant other to wish her Happy Birthday or take her out for cake or even a birthday drink. Just her. Always her.

During the first year she and Tom had dated, he’d taken her out for her birthday, no stops. A nice dinner, drinks afterwards, a little birthday sexy times when they got back to her flat. He’d even gotten her a lovely little present, a gold chain with a heart pendent. The next year, he was out of town and completely forgotten. No call, no text, no email, nothing. He hadn’t remembered until three days later. Of course, there was apologizing, and he’s taken her out for a nice dinner, but the damage had already been done. Their third and final year together, he went out with friends to the pub while she sat on her couch and cried. She had returned the ring two days later.

Here she was once again, working late to avoid an empty flat while her younger counterpart went out with her gaggle of mates to get pissed for her birthday. Maybe she’d stop by the shop on the way home and pick up a bottle of white and a pint of pistachio and spend the evening with Toby and Christopher Tietjens. He was dreamy and awkward, and she fancied herself a bit like Valentine. If only there were men out there like Tietjens…

Her mobile buzzed, pulling her out of her thoughts. She picked it up already knowing who it was. With Mike gone, there was only one other person who would message her.

Need you for a case. SH

You’re not at home. SH

Why are you still at the lab, it’s 2 hours past your time. SH

With a glance at the clock on her computer she realized with a start that she’d been in her office working on reports and lost in her thoughts for over four hours. It was half seven. She really needed to get home and feed Toby before he decided to announce his displeasure at being ignored on bathroom rug again. When she looked back at her phone, there were three more messages.

Stay there, I’m coming to you. SH

Where are you? SH

NM Be there in a sec. SH

The door to her office flew open as she finished reading the final message and she looked up as Sherlock leaned in, his eyes scanning everything before coming to rest on her.

“Off you pop. Need you for a case.”

Her lips thinned, and she resolutely turned her attention back to the computer screen. The last thing she wanted to do on her birthday was run around the streets of London after some murderer or thief and catch a fever. She had too much to do while Mike was gone to come down sick.

“Can’t tonight.” She said. “Too much to do. Call John or Mary or some…hey!”

He’d reached over and turned off her computer. Her eyes flew up to his angrily.

“I hadn’t finished that. You’ve just lost all my work.”

“Don’t be ridiculous Molly, it auto saved, it’s fine. Now come on.”

Normally, she’d jump at the chance to be around him. Tonight, she just wanted to feel sorry for herself.

“Sherlock, I have plans.”

“Nope.” He responded popping the “p” at the end of the word. “You were going to go home with either wine, or ice cream or both and watch one of three movies, honestly Molly, I’m sensing a theme with your romantic heroes.”

God, she hated how he was always able to see through her. Grumbling, she climbed to her feet and snatched her mobile from her desk.

“I can’t actually run around London in my work flats.”

“No need. No running involved.”

She frowned as he held out her jacket for her. She turned and slid her arms into, closing her eyes and smiling at the brief pressure of his hands as they smoothed the fabric across her shoulders. When she turned back around, he had her purse extended. “Is it undercover? I’m not really dressed for undercover work.”

“You’re dressed well enough. Ready? We must pop by Baker Street before we’re off. I need to pick up something first.”

“Fine.” She muttered, following him from the office, shutting off the lights before she closed the door.

At least I have tomorrow off, she thought as they walked out of the lab and up to the main floor. I can spend tomorrow in bed recuperating from tonight and ignoring everyone.

Outside, Sherlock flagged down a taxi and shuffled her in, climbing in after him.

“So, what’s this one?” she asked once they were on their way. He was already on his mobile texting someone.

“Hmmm?”

“The case. What am I doing?”

He glanced up at her from the corner of his eye before going back to his mobile. “You’re being yourself.”

She frowned. “That’s not going to work if we’re going undercover.”

“I never said undercover, you said undercover.”

She was getting frustrated. “Well if you aren’t going undercover, what do you need me for Sherlock?”

He slid his mobile back into his pocket and turned his full attention to her. “I need you Molly Hooper. Just being you.”

She didn’t have an answer for that. She sat back against the seat and watched London drive by as the taxi made its way to Baker Street.

Briefly she wondered if Sherlock knew it was her birthday. He could deduce anything, why wouldn’t he know? But then again, why would he care?

The taxi slowed down in front of the flat and Sherlock handed the driver some notes before getting out. “Might as well come on in Molly Hooper, not sure how long this is going to take.”

She climbed from the taxi, tired now, and feeling a bit petulant. “Sherlock, how long is this going to take? Really, I just want to go home.”

He unlocked the front door and turned around. “Just a few minutes Molly. Trust me.”

Rolling her eyes, she stomped in after him, shutting the door behind her. She trudged up the stairs that he took two at a time, emotionally tired. He was waiting for her when she finally reached the landing, one hand on the doorknob. She looked up at him expectantly. The sooner they did this, the sooner she could go home and hide out under her covers.

“Before I forget.” He said, his voice suddenly soft as if he didn’t want anyone else but her to hear what he was saying. “Happy Birthday Molly Hooper.”

She was stunned, her eyes widening. They widened even further when he bent down and place a soft kiss against her lips. Then he opened the door and taking her hand, pulled her into the flat.

The entire front room was full of balloons and people.

“Happy birthday!”

Molly stared in stunned disbelief as she looked at the people in the room; Mrs. Hudson, Greg Lestrade, Mary, John. Then she burst into tears.

“What?” Sherlock’s suddenly panicked voice rose over the din. “What did I do?”

“Oh luv,” Mary clucked, coming to her and pulling her head down against her shoulder. “It’s okay, don’t cry. You didn’t do anything wrong Sherlock, she’s just overwhelmed.”

Molly sniffed and pulled her head away from Mary’s shoulder. The blonde cupped Molly’s face in her hands and smiled at her. “Hey it’s okay.”

Molly smiled back, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hands. “I just…I wasn’t expecting…”

Mary put an arm around her shoulder and led her towards the kitchen. “Come on, let’s get you something to eat, yeah?”

She noticed John standing by the desk, not looking at anyone and talking to Sherlock as they walked past. “Y-you didn’t have to do this, I don’t want anyone to-“

“Hush.” Mary said as they stepped into the kitchen. “It’s your birthday and everyone who loves you is here, no matter what. You don’t worry about anything else except sharing a slice of that red velvet birthday cake with me because, I’ve been dying for a piece since I saw it.”

Molly spied the beautiful cake that Mrs. Hudson was setting out onto the clean and covered kitchen table.

“How did you know that was my favorite?”

Mary’s smile was playful. “Someone might have texted Mike Stamford and asked. The same someone might have called in a panic to help him set this up. But I’m not saying who.”

Molly glanced into the front room where Sherlock was currently rolling his eyes at something John was saying. He glanced towards her, their gazes meeting for just a moment before he turned his attention back to John. Molly smiled to herself and turned back to her conversation with Mary.

Later, when the food was put away and everyone had left, Molly was gathering her gifts and her coat when Sherlock suddenly appeared behind her. She turned, curious.

“Thank you.” She said. “For the party. It was lovely and more than I expected.”

He gave her a soft smile. “You deserve it Molly.”

He held out his hands, a package wrapped in a deep blue paper in it. Molly gasped.

“Is that…you didn’t have to…it’s too much.”

“Take it.” He placed it into her hands, wrapping his fingers around hers to close over the package. “Open it when you get home.”

The warmth of his hands covering hers made her fingers tingle. She lifted her head, a small smile on her face.

“Thank you.”

He nodded. “There’s a taxi waiting downstairs to take you home. Good night Molly Hooper.”

He leaned down to her and her eyes slid shut as his lips met hers once more, firm yet soft against hers, hesitant as if he wasn’t sure she would accept it. She immediately missed the warmth when he stepped away. Opening her eyes, she watched him, watched the flush of pink around his neck.

“Good night Sherlock.”

She turned and walked down the stairs, feeling the weight of his gaze on her back as she left the new quiet flat. The taxi was outside as he said, already paid for.

As she sat in the back of the taxi, oblivious to the sights passing on her way home, she played the party over and over in her head so she wouldn’t forget it. Everyone coming together, no matter what, for her. She looked down at the small package in her hands. It didn’t matter what was in it, the fact that Sherlock took the intuitive to plan a party for her and had kissed her, twice, was better than any present she could get.

Because it meant he cared. And being cared about by Sherlock Holmes was a gift all in itself.

�

#molly appreciation week #Day three #Get the Party #Molly Hooper #Sherlock Holmes

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dancinggrimm · 7 years

Text

My Day in London: A Review

I just thought I’d share a few points of my day down in London earlier this week.

1. Missed my fucking train. I’d forgotten that there were some major road works going on and didn’t allow enough time to get to the station. The taxi driver very helpfully spent the last ten minutes of the journey telling me that I should have allowed more time until I wanted to knock his block off. However, he made up for it earlier by telling me a story about how he knew all about the history of my home town, Kidderminster, and how in the second World War the British Sikh regiment captured all of the Italian military (no they didn’t), brought them back to England as POWs (no they didn’t) and didn’t have enough prison camps so they closed down all of Kiddermister’s carpet factories (nope) and made people live there and that’s why Kidderminster doesn’t have any carpet factories any more (it has several) and why most of the townsfolk have Italian names (seriously? It’s full of chavs!).

2. Got another train and ended up sitting next to a man who was talking in his sleep in, I think, Korean. I wish I’d known what he was saying, because his two travelling companions sitting across the aisle from us seemed really embarrassed for him.

3. Went to the V&A museum. The guard on the way in to the tunnel entrance gave me the glad eye and told me I didn’t have to have my bag searched because I was too pretty to be a terrorist. This made me feel neither complimented nor particularly safe, but at least I got to take my bottle of Oasis into the museum unhindered. Mmm, delicious Oasis. Even tastier when it’s contraband.

4. I searched for but failed to find @atlinmerrick‘s favourite statue that looks like Martin Freeman in the nip with a peach bum. I did however see some wonderful statues, some nicely gothic ironworks, a lot of beautiful kimonos, and some truly fuck ugly high fashion clothes in the Balenciaga exhibit.

5. Took the tube to Camden and managed to find exactly the same pub that my friend @bagelofdeath and I went to for lunch last time we met up. They do really good pizzas and cider, and have a little upstairs room overlooking a busy junction. So I sat at a table right in the window, looking out at the rain and the traffic, listening to indie rock music and cramming my face with carbs and rocket. Which is a very London thing to do.

6. Wandered up to the lock market for a bit of Christmas present shopping and did my best to avoid the storekeepers trying to ingratiate me. Saw many stalls selling the exact same products, the stall keepers of which all hurried to assure me were handmade by themselves that very morning. You wove all these printed scarves by hand in a morning? Why are you not in the Avengers?

7. There were way more shops selling bongs, marajuana sweets, and similar stuff than last time I was there. Sign of the times, man.

8. As I walked past one shop front the guy at the counter cat called me, which I hate, but he yelled “Hey darlin, where you from?” and when I ignored him he bitterly added “Oh yeah, that’s a really pretty name”, like he couldn’t remember what he’d even asked me, and it was funny enough that I didn’t really care.

9. He did exactly the same thing when I went back down the road an hour later. What a bell end.

10. So. Back on the tube and up to Leicester Square. I had a wander around the Lego store without buying anything, as you do (honestly, it’s more of a museum than anything else), and then popped into the M&M store which smells fucking awful. How do you manage to have a shop full of chocolate products and make it smell like the back of a printer? And who loves M&Ms that much that they want their whole wardrobe to feature them? They’re just Smarties’ inbred cousins! They were having a German Christmas market there too, but it wasn’t anywhere near as good as ours. Fuck yeah Birmingham!

11. Found a tiny second hand bookshop staffed by a woman who was the most perfect fit of a librarian stereotype I have ever seen and it’s genuinely tragic that she doesn’t work in a library. Tiny build, twinset and bead necklace, decorative chain on her wing glasses, nervous demeanor and a itsy bitsy high pitched voice. She was so cute. I bought a book just so she’d talk to me a bit more (and the book turned out to be quite good) and managed to put the Evangelist who had been badgering her into enough of a snit by interrupting him that he left.

12. It was 7pm by now, and time for the actual reason I’d gone down to London in the first place, the stage musical of Young Frankenstein at the Garrick Theatre! It was fantastic. Ross Noble, one of my favourite stand up comedians, was playing Igor and he was great, really enjoying the hell out of his costume and his occasional use of a French Horn. The songs were hilarious and, though they didn’t include my favourite moment of the Affectionate Elbow Nudge, the song that replaced it, ‘Don’t Touch Me’ (Tits! Tits! Tits!) was a real highlight. As was the extended performance of ‘Puttin’ on the Ritz’, and Lesley Joseph’s (72 and still a fox) Frau Blucher who was getting really annoyed with those damn horses. I loved it! If you can get to London before the end of February, give it a go.

13. Back on the train to come home, and spent much of the journey listening to the conversation of a young couple at the table seats opposite who were really not at all on the same wavelength. He would tell her about how often his brother threw up on trains and she would reply that yeah, the special effects on the music video she was watching on her phone would make anyone hurl, and he replied that he didn’t like Spotify either and it made everything look weird, and it was like that game where you’ve got to come up with names that start with the last letter of the name that came before it, except with entire concepts. Also, I played quite a lot of Kitty Powers’ Matchmaker, which was good fun, highly recommended.

14. Birmingham New Street Station is really, really creepy when you arrive there at 12.30 am and nobody is around and you can fool yourself into thinking that you’ll never find the exit and you’ll be wondering around in a tasteful but poorly signposted interior for the rest of your life like a brushed chrome pergatory until you’re suddenly outside and almost falling into a flowerbed and you don’t know what happened.

15. You know that thing where you and a stranger going in opposite directions nearly walk into each other, and you stop, and you move to your right and they move to their left, and you’re still in the same place, so you apologise and both move the other way, and oh no, ha ha, what a to-do, until one of you makes a break for it? While walking home through a pedestrian underpass I got trapped in that idiot dance for a good thirty seconds with the biggest fucking rat I have ever seen. She was the one that made a break for it, and I was honestly surprised not to see a small cowboy riding on her back as the ran past me.

And then I got home and went to bed, the end :)

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kuno-chan · 7 years

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Sea of Chains - Ch. 24, Gem Fortress Isle

Rating: T

Summary: Years after the events of Anchor, Captain Kai and Jinora Gyatso remain famous names on the seas and their children are literally born pirates. Now, their daughter, Nima, is becoming a little too pirate for comfort. When trouble with Captain Quil of the Blood Moon Pirates turns tragic, Nima is viciously dragged into what can only be be described as every parent’s worst nightmare.

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–

The Sozin’s biggest enemy, Dan decided, was itself and it’s own clockwork routines. Designed to keep the process of commuting guards to and from Gem Fortress Isle safe and smooth, it was no trouble at all to blend into their everyday habits. No one questioned his presence, despite clearly being of the Water Tribe. There were other guards of other ethnicities as well to his surprise.

The ship was a sprawling mass of the finest, most polished wood with the reddest sails and the blackest emblems and the goldest threads. On deck, somebody was always shining and swabbing, keeping the sun glinting on the wood at all times and free of any mildew or grime. There were rooms for bedding everywhere, an armory on every level, two galleys and two mess halls. An imperial ship at it’s absolute peak.

On for only a few days at a time for weeks, the same men did the same things and the rest found something to do with themselves. Their routines were age old. A formality, no longer truly functioning as real security. How long had it been since most of these men had seen real combat?

Dan asked as such.

“Nobody in their right mind would come attack an imperial vessel of the Fire Nation so close to it’s home,” laughed one of the veteran guards -- Kadesh he mentioned his name was. He was tan, black-haired and golden-eyed. “Only Shu Ting of the Dragon’s Crown is ever so bold. Even then, she won’t stay in these waters too long.”

She probably had bigger fish to fry, Dan figured.

Good. Then, The Sea Viper would probably be fairly undetected. Of course, ships sailed in and out of the seas of the Fire Nation year round, especially since Hidama was its most inward coastal city.

Before he left, Nima told him to be careful, but it didn’t seem like there was much danger to be had. Nobody checked his credentials. Nobody seemed to care that there was a new face. She was worrying for nothing.

Besides, he wished she would stop. He didn’t fancy the way she looked at him with those pooling green eyes. It almost -- almost -- made him squirm how the uplift of the corner of her eyes and lips softened when she seemed lost for words.

She didn’t have to say anything. He was used to silence.

When he lived with his sister, things were often silent. Not because she ignored him, but because when her husband had some diplomatic mission back home north in the North Pole, she went with him. Considering how he was sent away in the first place, he never had any inclination to return home to Nerrivik.

He would rather be left to himself. And left to himself was how he preferred it.

He didn’t need a girl like her bothering him. Especially since she had made it very clear that she didn’t totally appreciate his presence either.

He didn’t care.

It was only a job as far as he was concerned.

-:-:-:-

Gem Fortress Isle did it’s name justice. Massive black stone towers erected out of the cliffsides, the waves crashing against the foot of the jagged rocks. Large torches inside square rooms lit the head of all the towers and smoke billowed in the salt sea breeze. There was a brined smell in the air as they sailed closer, like a bonfire burning salt stones.

It reminded Nima of the time her Uncle Nukko had caught a massive fish one summer and the smell from cooking it filled the ship for days. But these were no cooking fires. Each tower lined the edge of a wall half it’s size and from there it was pretty much impossible to climb between the sheer black stone and marble walls to the sharp merciless rocks that beheld centuries old fortitude.

“Captain,” Ranaka began, crossing her arms over her chest as she observed the island wide fortress. “How are are going to keep them from seeing us?”

Captain Koika put a large hand on her shoulder. Despite his alertness, there seemed to be shallow bags under his eyes. “Don’t worry. We’re going to keep close to The Sozin until we near enough to hide beneath those rocks. Their ship is much bigger than ours so we can manage a little hide and seek. We’re going to have to use the rowboats to get any closer than that.”

“Dan’s going to meet us,” said Nima, reassuring them. “That’s what he said.”

“How?” Foba too was examining the fortress, his face crestfallen.

“He’ll find a way,” said Nima. “Tehan, didn’t your friend mention rowboats?”

Standing next to Captain Koika, Tehan nodded. “He says things are kind of relaxed there. Nothing happens and so no one really notices much. There should be some rowboats somewhere around there. Dan’s a smart kid. I’m sure he’ll find them alright.” He flashed a smile at her. Nima blinked before belatedly returning it.

Hyun nudged Tehan. “How come this friend o’ yours is helping us so much?”

“He hates his boss and, well, the entire job, really,” replied Tehan, shrugging. “He’s always been a little rule breaker, that one. One reason we get on so well.”

“What time should we go meet him?” asked Nima, leaning on the gunwale. “So, we make it quick.”

“Relax, lass,” Koika told her. “We’ll set up after they port and go in once night falls.”

Hyun sent Nima a lazy grin. “Dan’s a big, sturdy fella, but I see you’re awfully worried.”

“Of course I’m worried!” Nima moaned. “He’s in there by himself!”

And they didn’t even really know what they were looking for. Hell, they didn’t even know if it existed. All of this was just a hunch. The guilt seeped a little further into Nima’s belly.

All this uncertainty and Dan still went along with it. Unlike the The Sea Viper crew, he wasn’t in it for any possible loot. He just did it… well, he just did it because she asked.

Nima sighed through her nose. “I’m usually involved in the raids,” she said, wincing. “At least, now I am. My dad finally figured I was old enough as long as everyone else was involved.”

“A kid should learn how to fight,” Hyun agreed. “You’re dad’s smart not to shield ye. World can be a cruel place.”

Nima didn’t answer him. Less so because she had nothing to say and more because her throat tightened up at her father’s mention. No, he hadn’t shielded her from fighting. Just from himself.

“Can they really not see us?” Saika asked, frowning. “It just seems a little unbelievable that they would leave so much treasure so loosely guarded. I guard single gold coins with my life.”

“Remember, ships pass by this island constantly. They’re not going to immediately raise the alarm just because a ship is skirting the island,” said Koika, rubbing his eyes. “That’s why we’re going to anchor in their blindspot.”

“That still sounds like terrible security,” Saika replied.

“I’m not going to question whatever gets us shot less.” Ranaka hooked her arm in his. He smiled at her a little. “Would you?”

His smile widened, a twinkle in his eye. “Your optimism is showing.”

“Always is, darling” she cooed. “Not getting shot is a favorite pastime of mine.”

Nima almost smiled at them. She turned back to The Sozin.

She hoped Dan would pick up on that pastime too.

-:-:-:-

Night fell.

Saika and Captain Koika followed her on the boat, leaving the first mate in charge should anything go wrong. Hyun only saluted his captain before they left. Nima was a bucket of nerves and she kept glancing at the corner of the rocks in front of her. Dan had to be coming. He had to be.

What if he’d been found out? What if somebody questioned him and realized he wasn’t who he said he was? She dared not open her mouth with those worries though, even Koika keeping silent as he rowed the boat a little farther forward.

She heard the quiet splash before she saw it. Around the corner of the jagged cliffside, Dan rowed in a small, dark wooden boat, still in that uniform that she almost told him was a little bit too tight for him. It wasn’t like they exactly had a choice, but the fabric at the shoulders was as bit snug. Even from here she could see them grappling at the brawny muscles of his arms as he rowed toward them.

“You’re okay,” she breathed when he was finally close enough.

He glanced up at her, his stare lingering. “...yeah,” he said. “Hurry up. Get in the boat. Who’s all coming?”

“I am,” Koika said, climbing into the boat. He extended his hand out to Nima. “I’m not letting you kids go in by yourselves. At least, I can be a little bit of extra muscle. Ranaka will take the boat back.”

Ranaka raised her chin. “Aye, captain.”

Nima took his hand, flashing a grateful smile. “Will we be able to get in though?” she asked Dan. “With all three of us?”

Dan nodded. “We won’t even be seen.”

He rowed them toward a small hidden shore directly under one the watchtowers, the angle so perpendicular and obscured by cliff rocks that there was no way someone could simply look over the edge and see them. There was an opening big enough for one person to fit through, Koika and Dan having to bend over, but otherwise he fit enough.

“What is this place?” Nima asked.

Ahead of her, Dan replied, “One of the older guards told me about this opening. It’s not taught officially, but all guards know about it apparently. It’s like a hidden escape route in case someone needs to get away. To send or receive important or secret messages that is.”

“This place was built in a time of war,” added Koika. He walked behind her with a surprisingly light footfall. “Before it was a fortress for the Fire Nation’s greatest treasures, it was a source of other things. War spoils, prisoners… then over time it became a symbol of their wealth and power. Some harvested right at home with no problem.” His face went dark. “Others stolen from lands not their own. You might find quite a few Air Nomad relics in here.”

Nima’s heart dropped. She was born and raised a pirate, but her mother and grandparents made sure she also knew about her Air Nomad heritage. That was no less a part of her than her pirate heritage either. “I’m Air Nomad,” Nima said quietly.

That wasn’t right.

They shouldn’t have kept those relics. Those… there was something particularly nasty about stealing someone else’s culture from them.

“Honestly, lass, most of the people these days probably don’t even know they’re here. I doubt even Fire Lord Izumi knows. It’s been so long and these things have been buried for ages. Longer than your lifetime five fold.”

For such intimate things to be stolen from their homes so viciously, the blood of their owners and creators and rightful curators having been wiped clean from them probably only to be placed in a glorified trinket jar...

She knew her peoples’ history and how Fire Lord Sozin had begun the ravaging of the Air Temples. Equally so, the Air Nomads themselves, slaughtered around the world over time until their population dwindled. Her great grandfather, Aang Gyatso, had been the one to surprise every nation and finally defeat Sozin’s grandson, Fire Lord Ozai, and end The Great War.

“This used to be named The Isle of Sozin, during his reign that is. It wasn’t exactly official. More of a nickname,” Koika said, ducking further as the tunnel became smaller. He grunted. No doubt his back didn’t exactly like that.

“Modest man,” Nima commented in a small voice.

“Great men have a tendency to be terrible men.”

She immediately thought of Captain Quil and her bones felt a little bit heavier like they always did when he came to mind. Heavy and leaden like a sitting turtleduck when he took that sword and--

“We’re here,” Dan said, mercifully bringing her back from her own head. The world slipped back into place and she remembered that the flat of her feet were on the ground, not her back against red soaked wood.

On the other side of her, Dan put his hand against a solid rock wall and said a word she didn’t quite understand under his breath. The rock slid open for him and he climbed through, extending his hand out to her when she came close enough. Torches lit the hall they climbed into, heavy darkness hanging in the air, ready to descend upon them should the torches. She noticed there were was only one barred window. Not one large enough for a human to come through, but the moonlight reached through, lighting the night that laid underneath it. Their footsteps threatened to echo, but Dan put his fingers to his lips and pointed at their shoes.

She and Koika nodded. Walk slowly. Walk quietly. Got it.

They took a right, not even stopping when they came across a stairway at the end of a second hall. She looked back, sharing a small frown with Captain Koika. Where were all the guards?

“This was my area for the night,” Dan said quietly when they climbed the stairs. “Which was why they showed me the door. Nobody comes down here.”

“Where are we going?” Nima asked, keeping her voice just as low.

“To the main vault.”

“Nobody comes down here and the main vault is in this area?” Koika asked. Nima shared another glance with him. Exactly her thoughts. “That doesn’t smell right.”

“They said security prioritizes over the personal treasures of the Fire Lords rather than the main vault, which is filled with lesser important treasures. There are other guards around, but they still keep to their end of things.”

“And this happened to be your wing?”

“Yes,” Dan said, come face to face with a large black door. There were no handles, hinges as far as she could see, but there was cracks where the opening was. Nima reached out to feel it, but Dan grabbed her hand before she could. “This is why we get in, get what we need and get out. No unnecessary exploring. These people are laid back at best, but they’re eventually going to come relieve me for a midnight shift change.”

Nima frowned, pulling her hand away. “How are we going to get in?”

“Everything here is guarded by wards and passwords written into spells. Only the higher ups know the passwords. The warden left his office open and I snuck in. He had he passwords in a drawer.” He put his hand on the door, just like he did with their entrance, and spoke a word she didn’t know. It was certainly not in the common tongue.

“Old language of the Fire Nation. They still use it for record keeping in certain places, but it’s largely not spoken in their modern tongue,” Koika explained, putting a hand on her shoulder. “It’s smart. This is why they’re not worried about anybody getting in.”

Still. Something tickled at her spine. Something her Grandpa Yung always said to listen to.

Sorry Grandpa, she thought. I don’t have much of a choice this time.

The truth, actually. She didn’t even know if this was even the right decision. Would Roku’s stone even be in here? She didn’t… she didn’t know. Was this what her life had come to? Risking the lives of other people over hunches and half thoughts? If they were caught…

She didn’t want to think about what would happen if they were caught.

But that tick down her spine also kept saying something else:

Keep going .

Well, this was all she had. This small hunch was all she had to go on, but… that something was gnawing at her. And every time she thought about Roku’s Flare it just started gnawing a little harder. Her Uncle Lefty would have called that guts if he ever heard her talk about it.

If she ever got to talk to him about it.

Despite their size, the doors slid open smoothly and in relative silence. On the other side there was a barren space and another set of doors. Following Dan’s lead, they stepped into the space and the doors slid closed behind them. When they did, the second set of doors slid open, no need for Dan to intervene this time. The doors receded and--

Piles.

Nima’s mouth dropped open. Even Koika couldn’t keep himself from whistling a little.

Piles and piles of gleaming stones, gems and other such precious items. The vault’s impossibly high ceiling made way for small mountains of rubies, emeralds, crystals, diamonds, fire stones, golden gems and an endless rainbow of strange and exotic treasures of the earth. Even Dan was looking on with a faint sense of awe.

Nima had never seen anything like it. She probably had been in towns worth less money than this vault on it’s own. As a child, her grandfather would take her along when he had little business ventures to do. Errands to run. Sometimes, he would bring her to the Bank of Republic CIty where he had important things to discuss with the family banker. She used to think that place had to be the richest place in the world.

How small… how small it was compared to the wealth of this place. Gems gleamed and shone, lighting the walls in their kaleidoscope of colors, the shadows of herself, Dan and Koika lost in their inherent beauty of color and reflection.

“This…” She tried to begin. She wet her lips and closed her mouth. “I’ve never seen anything like this…”

“Just a few of these will keep The Sea Viper and everyone on it set for life,” said Koika, picking up a sapphire and examining it.

He seemed to be lost in his own thoughts when Dan said, “It’s going to be nothing short of impossible finding Roku’s comet stone. We don’t have time to get distracted. We should split up and take a look. Then meet back here.”

Nima glanced at Koika who was still looking at that same sapphire a few feet away. “Are you sure?” she asked, keeping her voice low enough so only he could hear her.

“We don’t have a choice. We need to find this thing and get out before somebody realizes that I’m no longer at my post.” Dan looked up at Koika. “Are you going to be alright?”

Koika looked up, blinking, before he realized that Dan was talking to him. “Of course,” he said, as if his mind had been deep elsewhere. He stroked his grey beard and narrowed his eyes at his surroundings.”Of course I will. You kids give a shout if anything.”

Dan nodded at him, then he nodded at Nima.

Well… alright. She didn’t like it, but Dan had a point.

The place was already so big as it was, but… it was here. It had to be. She could feel it deep in her gut that the thing was here. Waiting. Waiting.

She watched Dan find a path between the mounds and disappear around the corner wordlessly. “Will you be alright?” she asked Captain Koika.

He smiled wryly at her. “Don’t you worry about me, lass. Like I said. If anything happens, just give a shout and we’ll come running.”

Nima nodded and turned away, rounding the corner of a pile particularly bespeckled with rubies. She felt a shudder at the red light it bathed her in, her muscles stiffening.

“I’m not there,” she told herself.

She wasn’t there. Quil wasn’t there. She was nowhere near him.

Her fingers grazed the coldness of the gems, felt them trickle at her feet. Gold coins also littered the floor, clinking with her every step. She let her gaze wander, looking, searching for a… a sign that would tell her she’d found the comet stone. She needed that stone. If that stone wasn’t here and her gut was wrong then…

She shook her head. It was here. It had to be here. For what felt like too long she roamed the corridors of the vault. Round and round she roamed, the mountains of gems blurring together. Was it endless?

Her mind began to feel… tired.

How long had she been searching? She was ready to call out for Dan. This wasn’t working and they were going to get lost. It felt like she’d searched for too long, too deep. Again, she asked herself how long she’d been searching.

Indeed, how long? Why did she not really have a sort of estimate? It was like this place with all it’s jewels and all it’s treasures were imprisoners of her senses.

It smelled like nothing in here, too. Not like iron or ore or the sharpness of metal. The ceiling was just so high she couldn’t make out where it ended and the darkness that shrouded it above seemed alive somehow. Like it was ready to swallow her whole.

She sighed deeply through her nose, finding a way between two more closely laid mountains.

And there was a road.

Nima froze, feeling more like an animal caught than ever before.

There was a road. And a town around that road. There were people hustling and bustling by, carriages rolling along. Under her feet, she tapped the cobblestone. Every smooth bump was there. Real. None of the people paid her any mind, but…

She knew this street.

And the smell. It wafted across her nose and almost made her knees weak. A bakery. Not just any bakery. Nima watched as Mr. Lao from Lao’s Pastries was filling the basket at his shop window with fresh loaves of bread and what she knew to be cherry filled buns. She… she hadn’t had one of those in months.

Because they hadn’t sailed to Republic City for a little while. Her father had wanted to make a round to other ports before they went back to visit her grandparents. They’d only been on their third or fourth port when she was separated from them.

The smell of the bread flooded her senses, inviting her despite the stress behind her mind’s eye. How had she teleported back to this place?

Her mouth watered as she edged toward it, the scent damn near overwhelming her like it always did. She usually could feel one of her uncles at her side, chuckling at her growing excitement of yet more food.

But she was alone right now. She felt more alone with all these people around than she had a moment ago.

Where was Dan? And Captain Koika? Had they come to this place too?

They should try the pastries if they di--

Then she saw herself. Not a reflection, not like a mirror. She watched as a smaller girl left Mr. Lao’s shop. She was shorter than herself now, in a brown and beige dress Nima hadn’t worn in years.

Twelve. Nima’s heart dropped into her stomach. She could remember for a fact that this was a twelve year old her. Twelve had been a…. Gods, it’d been a bad year. Such a bad year.

Looking on at this girl with her green eyes and brown hair, happily carrying her sack of food. She remembered the day, the hour.

She knew twelve year old her would leave Mr. Lao’s shop like she did and Nima walked after her, the younger girl dancing along the street as she went next door to climb the rooftop and eat her goodies in peace so her mother wouldn’t tell her to put them away till after dinner.

Up on that rooftop, her ship was visible at the harbor. Her father had told her not to go without someone and she, well, had but… Uncle Skoochy was easy to convince as long as she didn’t wander too far from the cigar shop he was browsing at the moment up the street.

Nima wasn’t sure if she was breathing or not. She was in her own body and with her twelve year old self all at once. The little girl pulled the scene along with her, as if she was forcing her present self to follow.

But Nima knew what happened. She didn’t want to see it.

Her own feet seemed to refuse her plea.

The scene shifted and she was on the roof with her child self now, done with the food she’d purchased. Nima knew there was going to be commotion below from the dim alleyway. She didn’t have to watch herself peek over at the edge of the roof. She didn’t have to watch herself see the young woman with long brown hair in a messy up do get carted off by two men who were clearly up to no good as they dragged her down the dim alleyway.

Her child self glanced at The Waterbender beyond the rooftops. Then, back down at the woman being dragged away.

Nima tried to reach out as her younger self climbed down and the roof and followed them.

“Go back,” she strained a whisper, a lump forming in her throat. “Go back. Go get help.”

When Nima tried to follow her, ready to leap off the roof the height be damned--

The scene shifted again and now it was the middle of the night, moon high and swords clashing all around. A wooden deck was under her now, and there across the way, through the bloodshed--

Her Uncle Momo was holding his own against a man, their swords clashing against each other desperately before her Uncle did the smart thing and kicked the man between the legs. He raced across the deck to a small girl--

Gods, no.

“No, just leave her!” Nima’s voice broke over the chaos around her. He couldn’t hear her, only the screaming girl with green eyes that he rushed over to defend. Still, Nima shouted. “You’re going to get hurt! Just leave her! Leave me, please, Uncle Mo--”

The man her Uncle Momo had kicked between the legs had come to join his crewmates. There was a terrible flash of red and Nima screamed, running over and freezing at the site of her Uncle Momo holding his throat, jade green eyes flicking back and forth in panic and deep red oozing from behind his fingers. It was getting under her feet -- Qilaq and Kinguyakki help her, save him, she could feel his life soaking her feet -- it was leaking back under his head and oh gods, he should have just left her. He should have left her he should have left her--

Her eight year old self was screaming in full force now, diving for her uncle on the ground, but Uncle Sudhir was hauling her away as her father and Uncle Appa killed the men who surrounded had hurt her Uncle Momo--

And then the scene shifted again. She couldn’t hear the words, but her father was beyond furious. To this day, she couldn’t remember a time he was that angry with her. She couldn’t make out the words as he yelled at her eight year old self, not as her own sobbing threatened to tear apart her chest at this very moment.

She shook her head again and again. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she sobbed over and over again, her tears falling and rolling under her chin. “ I’m sorry, please, I’m sorry--”

She just wanted it to stop. She wanted to stop hearing her father yell and she wanted to get out of this dream, memory, whatever it was. The weight was a drug, dragging her under deeper and deeper and the despair hit her, cleaving itself in her chest like an axe.

The scene began shifting again and her heart missed a beat.

“No, please, no more,” she begged to whatever was doing this to her. “Please, no more. Please--”

Her pleas went unanswered.

Well, things are moving along more now and the stakes are higher once more. We’re just beginning the fun though!

As always, guys I love it when you leave those reviews! They really keep me motivated and keep me writing! Thank you for reading! Tune in for next chapter!

#kainora #legend of korra #korra #lok #jinora #my fics

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yastaghr · 7 years

Text

Dislocate: One-shot

Dislocate

Characters: Papyrus, Gaster, Grillby, Flowey, Sans, Asgore, Toriel, Doggo, Lesser Dog, Alphys, Undyne

Pairings: Alphys/Undyne, Gaster is Papyrus’ dad, Sans isn’t related to Gaster or Papyrus, Platonic bonds galore

Warnings: If you see something you want a warning for, let me know.

Story Summary: Monster Souls do not do well alone. They bond with others, platonically and romantically, so that no monster is ever alone. Most souls send out there first call to bond as children, and the longer they wait, the more dangerous it is.

“DAD?”

“WHY HASN’T ALPHYS COME OVER TO PLAY WITH ME THIS WEEK?”

“OH. SO WHY CAN’T WE PLAY?”

“OKAY. WHY IS IT HAPPENING NOW? I’M THREE YEARS YOUNGER THAN SHE IS, SHOULDN’T SHE HAVE ALREADY DONE THIS?”

“I SEE. WHY DID YOU WAIT SO LONG, THEN? DIDN’T IT HURT?”

“THAT DOESN’T SOUND VERY NICE.”

“IF YOU HADN’T, YOU WOULDN’T HAVE HAD ME!”

“REALLY?”

<Really. Come on, I can help you write the card. We should have some blue paper still lying around from the CORE’s opening party.>

“MAYBE WE CAN MAKE ONE FOR YOU AND DOCTOR SANS, TOO! YOU LIKE HIM A LOT, SO YOU SHOULD ASK HIM TO BOND WITH YOU!”

<...I don’t think so, Paps. Doctor Sans is...not interested in doing something like that with me. Some monsters are very selective in who they bond with, and he seems to be one of those. I don’t think I’ve seen him accept a bond with anyone. I suppose that’s just his way.>

“DOES THAT MEAN I CAN’T ASK ALPHYS?”

<No! I just...want you to know that sometimes monsters will reject you, even if they still want to be very good friends. It just means they aren’t comfortable with bonds in the same way you are.>

“OKAY...I THINK I’M STILL GOING TO ASK, THOUGH. MAYBE WHAT THEY REALLY NEED IS A FRIEND AS GREAT AS ME TO SHOW THEM THE WAY!”

The bell above Grillby’s door jingled merrily. The bartender looked up, cheeks brightening at the idea that perhaps Sans had finally dropped by to…

Papyrus stood in the doorway, peering around the warm room with an air of hope that gave way to despair. He took off a large yellow raincoat, shaking it carefully and setting it on the rack by the door. The entire population of the bar, human and monster alike, watched the towering skeleton wince his way over to the bar. He eyed the stool, then sighed and took a seat.

Grillby hurried over to the fridge and grabbed a milkshake. The child had introduced him to the concept a few weeks after they’d arrived on the surface, and the non-greasy treat had instantly become the only item on his menu that Papyrus would drink. As Sans had not been to the bar in weeks, the only reason he could see for the taller skeleton’s presence was one of these dairy-filled beverages.

“THANK YOU, GRILLBY.”

Papyrus took a long, long sip, draining half the glass before setting it back down with a thunk. His shoulders hunched up, and the rings around his eyes spoke of far too long without sleep. Grillby picked up a nearby glass and started polishing. He knew a skeleton in need of a confidant when he saw one.

“YOU HAVEN’T SEEN SANS IN HERE LATELY, BY ANY CHANCE, HAVE YOU?”

Grillby shook his head mournfully. Sans was one of his closest friends.

Papyrus let out a breath of deep unhappiness.

“I WAS AFRAID OF THAT. NOBODY HAS SEEN HIM ANYWHERE! EVER SINCE FRISK PULLED MY FATHER AND THE CORE TEAM OUT OF THE VOID, SANS HAS BEEN SPENDING LONGER AND LONGER AWAY FROM HOME. YESTERDAY WHEN DAD CAME HOME, SANS CAME DOWN THE STAIRS, TOOK ONE LOOK, AND VANISHED! JUST LIKE THAT.”

Grillby hung the glass up dejectedly, and waited. Papyrus took yet another extended sip from the glass. Thoroughly drained, Grillby felt confident in taking it over to the sink, where he nestled it with the others. On his way back, he grabbed another from the fridge and set it down. Papyrus hadn’t looked up.

“DAD THINKS SANS THINKS DAD IS GOING TO BE MAD AT HIM FOR PRETENDING TO BE MY BROTHER ALL THESE YEARS. HE ISN’T, AND NEITHER AM I, EVEN IF I DIDN’T KNOW. HE STILL TOOK REALLY GOOD CARE OF ME. BUT WE CAN’T TELL HIM THAT IF HE WON’T LET US TALK TO HIM, AND HE ISN’T PICKING UP HIS PHONE, OR ANSWERING HIS TEXTS, OR ANYTHING!”

Grillby tapped on the countertop, then signed, quick and clear, in front of his chest.

-Bondmates?-

Papyrus wailed, “NONE! EVERYONE WE’VE ASKED WAS EITHER TURNED DOWN OR DISCOURAGED BECAUSE EVERYONE ELSE WAS TURNED DOWN! EVEN THE QUEEN! EVEN ME!”

Grillby frowned. He’d thought Sans was just a bit of a selective monster, but that...surely someone had bonded with the shorter skeleton! Sans was at least...at least…

-How old is Sans?-

Papyrus sniffed, “I DON’T KNOW. DAD SAYS HE LOOKED REALLY YOUNG WHEN HE APPLIED FOR THE JOB AT THE CORE, BUT SINCE SANS HAD HIS PHD HE DECIDED NOT TO WORRY ABOUT IT. THAT WAS FIFTEEN YEARS AGO! WHY DOES IT MATTER?”

-Monsters who don’t take bondmates often suffer from health problems. It’s why so many monsters form platonic bonds within the first few weeks of meeting someone. If Sans hasn’t taken a bondmate in all that time, he might be very, very depressed. I knew he was a little bit, but he always said he was holding himself together for you. I thought that meant you two were bonded. But if he ran away when your dad came back, maybe he’s worse off than I thought.-

Papyrus gasped, and the Dog Squad, who had been sitting at their usual table for the Friday Night Poker, turned their heads. Doggo slid out of his chair and made his way to the bar.

“We heard you gasping, boney pup, and were maybe a little bit eavesdropping about Sans. Anything we can do to help track him down? Lesser and I might have been turned down as bondmates, but we still hold a bit of a torch, if you catch my drift. Consider the Dog Squad at your disposal.”

Papyrus turned worried eyes to face him.

“THAT WOULD BE VERY MUCH APPRECIATED. DAD AND I HAVE BEEN SEARCHING ALL AROUND MT. EBOTT. I DON’T KNOW WHERE ELSE TO LOOK!”

Doggo scratched his head.

“Have you tried searching Underground? As lonely as it is, sometimes familiar territory is all a monster wants to see.”

Papyrus’ eyeballs bulged.

“OF COURSE! SANS IS ALWAYS TALKING ABOUT WAKING UP IN SNOWDIN. MAYBE HE WENT THERE? OR MAYBE HE FORGOT SOMETHING AT THE LABS...OR WENT TO GO SEE THE CEILING IN THE WISHING ROOM. I’LL CALL UNDYNE AND ALPHYS AND HER MAJESTY AND DAD AND EVERYONE. ONE OF US WILL SURELY TRACK HIM DOWN!”

“Well howdy! Isn’t this a surprise? Coming back to gloat, Smiley Trashbag? Surface lose its charm?”

Sans didn’t stir. Flowey scowled, burrowing up another twenty feet.

“Hello? Underground to Idiot? Are you even listening to me?”

Sans skull slowly tilted back towards him. In the dim light coming down from the distant stars, the scattered golden petals of the First Human’s grave were almost the same shade of grey as the skeleton’s jacket.

“oh. hey flowey. s’been a while, hasn’t it? just over three years now.”

Flowey rolled his eyes.

“Uh, yeah. That’s why there’s nobody living here anymore, idiot. They all moved on to better things.”

Sans chuckled, breathily, “yup. y’know alphys’ is getting a kid soon? her and undyne’s paperwork finally made it through. they’re already planning about teaching them magic.”

“Great. More stabby fishsticks. Just what the world needed.”

Sans didn’t seem to hear him, “grillby opened a new bar. well, more like a chain, really. seven different stores, one for every day of the week. he’s pretty happy now, too.”

Flowey stared at Sans’ hands. They were folded over the skeleton’s ribcage, but every so often he could make out a passing quiver.

“tori and asgore are opening the gates of the new school in less than a week. doubt they’ll ever get back to being buddy-buddy, but at least they can stand to be in the same room.”

The flower tried to ignore the wave of grief at the mention of his parents in his fragile speck of a SOUL. Not enough to do anything useful, but just enough to give him the occasional twinge. He hated it, but even that was an improvement.

“frisk is doing well. knocked another item off their checklist a few weeks ago. only another two hundred to go. stars but can that kid be determined.”

Flowey turned his petals up towards the stars.

“Which one was that then? Finally getting Alphys to watch Mew Mew Kissy Cutie 3?”

“they got pap’s dad back out of the void.”

Flowey burst out laughing.

“Really? Old Crack-face? Why’d they go and do that, he’s dry as a stick and almost as annoying as you.”

Sans shut his sockets, blocking out the stars.

“pap doesn’t need me anymore, flowey.”

His face whipped around so fast his own petals hit him in the face. Smiley wasn’t allowed to sound like that. No one was allowed to sound like that. Only Chara was allowed to sound like that. So...broken. That was how they’d sounded when they told him about the plan.

“Hey, what are you talking about? Of course he needs you. He’s the most trusting, gullible idiot in the universe. Someone has to be there to give anyone who hurts him a bad time.”

Sans rolled away.

“that’s gaster’s job now. he always did it better than me.”

Flowey was actually worried now.

“So? What does that got to do with it? Anyway, what about Frisk? Didn’t you make some stupid promise to Mo- the old lady?”

Flowey poked him with his vines.

“Trashbag?”

No reaction.

“Idiot?”

Why didn’t he answer?

“Sans?”

The faintest white glow suffused the cave. Slowly, ever so slowly, a SOUL appeared, battered and grey and almost as small as his. Flowey’s jaw went slack. It started to shiver.

“NO!”

His vines raced out, wrapping around the grey heart and holding it in place. He could feel it, feel the desolation and exhaustion and fragility. It wanted to be done with this. It wanted to not have to live like this anymore. It was so tired of being lonely.

Flowey’s petals whipped around. No smiling idiots backflipped out of the shadows. No heroic fishsticks barrelled in from the sky. Crud. He’d have actually take him to help, wouldn’t he?

His vines snaked around the collapsed skeleton, spinning him up in a thick, padded cocoon. As he dragged his burdens out into the Ruins, he couldn’t help grumbling to himself about the incredible unfairness of it.

“Stupid Trashbag, coming all this way to die, making me drag his greasy bones all the way through the Underground. WHO DOES HE THINK HE IS? Smiley Trashbag, there had better be a nice reward in this for me!”

Papyrus sat, despondent, next to the decaying remnants of Sans’ old Sentry Station. They’d been searching for 52 hours now. The Capitol, Core, Hotland, and Temmie Village had all been exhausted. Most of the searchers were still in Waterfall. Those caves went on for miles and miles.

Undyne had ordered him to go to Snowdin and take a rest after the third time he’d tripped over that Annoying Dog. He’d rebelled only a little bit, walking all the way through town out here to the edge of the Ruins before his legs had finally given out. He was starting to seriously wonder if Sans was even in the Underground at all.

“Hey, you! Idiot! Get off your butt and help me out!”

Papyrus skull shot up.

“FLOWEY? IS THAT YOU?”

“Yes it’s me you idiot, now get over here! Geez, he’s heavy. What did you do, let him get a job at a ketchup factory?”

His hopes skyrocketing, Papyrus lept to his feet.

“YOU HAVE SANS?!!”

“Yes, sheesh, I have the Smiley Trash Bag! NOW COME PICK HIM UP!”

Papyrus was kneeling beside the wilting Flowey before he’d even finished the sentence.

“IS HE HURT? WHERE DID YOU FIND HIM? WE’VE BEEN LOOKING ALL OVER! IS HE OKAY? HAS HE EATEN?”

“In direct order: maybe, Ruins, I doubt it, and why in the world should I know? He was just laying in the flowers saying all this stupid garbage about nobody needing him and Gaster and then he stopped responding and his SOUL popped out and I had to hold it, which was gross by the way, and carry him all the way here. Fix him.”

Papyrus carefully picked his not-sibling-sibling out of the nest of vines and cradled him against his chest. Sans was trembling, his entire frame vibrating with unspent magic. His sockets were empty, black pits, blending into the rest of his skull smoothly via the dark circles rimming his eyes. His clothes were a mess of plant debris and ketchup stains and one slipper had left his body somewhere in the past few days.

The only reason Papyrus was able to keep himself from crying with relief was that he was already crying with worry. He let his skull fall against Sans’ chest and nuzzled in, breathing in the slight odor of grease and particle physics that, for the past fifteen years, had meant home.

“SANS…”

His voice faded into silence. Flowey waited, then growled with annoyance.

“Don’t forget this, idiot.”

He extended the smaller ball and, vine by vine, let Sans’ SOUL come back into the open. Papyrus sucked in a breathe and swayed, almost dropping Sans under the influence of whatever signals that little ball of grey goop was sending.

“F-F-FLOWEY, CAN YOU-”

He visibly sucked in a breathe, setting Sans’ body gently on the path and reaching out to cup the SOUL.

“I NEED YOU TO GO OVER TO WATERFALL AND FIND SOMEONE, ANYONE. TELL THEM TO CALL GASTER AND GET HIM TO BRING EVERYONE WHO IS WILLING TO BOND WITH SANS AND BRING THEM HERE.”

Flowey leered, “Oh, geeze, taking advantage of your poor, tired friend Flowey when he just-”

“FLOWEY, DO IT NOW.”

Flowey’s vines retracted at record speed. He let out one last shot before burrowing down.

“Fine. You really owe me big time, though.”

Papyrus sighed the moment Flowey left. He turned his attention to the SOUL in his hands. It was pulsing and crying out so loudly he could barely think. Every beat pushed harder and harder against his own magic, demanding, pleading, begging him to open up and let it in. It was terrifying, so much stronger than what he’d felt when MK went through his own first bonding call a few years back.

“OH SANS. WHY ARE YOU ALWAYS SO HARD ON YOURSELF? IF YOU HAD JUST TOLD US YOU’D NEVER BONDED...WELL, I SUPPOSE IT HARDLY MATTERS NOW.”

He settled himself comfortably in the snow, clearing his mind as best he could and pulling his magic to the brink. He hummed quietly as he began to build, coaxing Sans’ SOUL and his own to stretch out in just the right way so he could spin them together. The words of the song eluded him, but music was calming, soothing, and caring, and all the other things that he thought of when he thought of Sans. With every note, he felt his almost-brother draw a bit nearer.

The song ended as the bond faded into place, smooth and strong and perfectly formed. He preened a little at how well he had pulled it off. Confused support and absolute adoration radiated along it, and he smiled.

“HELLO, SANS. IT’S GOOD TO SEE YOU TOO.”

Cautious reciprocation and puzzled vertigo. His smile wilted.

“YOU’RE CONFUSED, AREN’T YOU? DIZZY? DISLOCATED, EVEN?”

Agreement and frustration were mixed with pride at the subtle pun. He registered the far off tingle of an incoming shortcut. He laughed out loud.

“WELL, THAT IS ONLY TO BE EXPECTED! THE PRESENCE OF SOMEONE AS WONDERFUL AS I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, IS SURE TO BE OVERPOWERING! ALTHOUGH IT WOULD PROBABLY BE LESS DISORIENTING IF YOU HAD NOT WAITED SO LONG TO OPEN UP TO A BOND. I AM AFRAID YOU ARE GOING TO HAVE TO HAVE QUITE A LOT OF PEOPLE WORRYING ABOUT YOU UNTIL YOU WAKE UP.”

The looming figures of their former Majesties crunched through the snow. He turned a cheerful, if tired, grin towards them.

“GREETINGS, ASGORE, TORIEL. I DO HOPE THIS IS NOT TOO MUCH OF A BOTHER, BUT IT SEEMS SANS DECIDED TO RUN OFF JUST IN TIME FOR HIS FIRST URGE TO BOND TO OVERTAKE HIM.”

Asgore’s eyes bulged, and Toriel frowned.

“Surely that is a jest, Papyrus. Sans is far too old for this to be his first time.”

Papyrus sighed, and brought Sans’ SOUL, which he had cupped protectively against his chest, around towards them. The moment it was out in the open, the two gasped. Asgore was the first to recover, gulping down his anxiety and shuffling over. He lowered himself beside Papyrus and held out his hands, then hesitated.

“You don’t think he would object to me joining him, do you?”

Papyrus passed the request along, and vocalized the response.

“HE TRUSTS YOU, EVEN IF HE THINKS YOU CAN BE A BIT...ODD, SOMETIMES. HE’S MORE CONFUSED ABOUT WHAT’S HAPPENING THAN ANYTHING ELSE AT THE MOMENT. HE THOUGHT HE WAS-”

Papyrus swallowed, “HE THOUGHT HE WAS GOING TO DUST.”

Asgore winced, but his hands were steady as he raised them up under Papyrus’ own. The bright mix of orange, red and blue sparkling around his palms spun itself into a tether within seconds. Papyrus scowled, but reminded himself that Asgore had bonded with hundreds of monsters over his long lifetime. Through Sans, he felt familiar encouragement tinged with a large helping of surprise.

Asgore wiped away a tear.

“I am glad you feel so kindly towards me, Sans. I know you and I have had certain...disagreements in the past.”

Papyrus caught the edge of dry humor and rolled eyes, and frowned.

“SANS! YOU SHOULD NOT BE SO FLIPPANT TO ASGORE, EVEN IF HE IS NO LONGER THE KING!”

On his other side, Toriel brushed her skirts back elegantly.

“On the contrary, Papyrus, my former husband deserves every bit of flippancy he may receive. Asgore, SOUL.”

Sans’ amusement at Toriel’s brusk confidence filled Papyrus with joy. Positive emotions were very good.

Her bond took even less time to stabilize than had Asgore’s. She beamed at Sans, SOUL and body combined.

“Oh you coy flatterer, stop that. If that door had not been standing between us I would have asked you to bond years ago. As it is, I most certainly will have a few words to say about denying your urge to connect when next you wake.”

The backlash of confusion was even stronger this time, insistent and frustrated while still being calm in a way only Sans could pull off. The three of them were equally confused.

“Sans...you did know what it was that other monsters meant by bonding, did you not? This...please tell me this was not a complete surprise.”

The equivalent of grumbling and hands thrown up in the air filled them all. In the distance, Papyrus felt his father drop off another load.

“Oh dear.”

Sprinting footsteps quickly approached. Papyrus curved his body in a defensive huddle over the top of Sans, quickly eclipsed by the two former monarchs doing the same.

“NGAHH!!!!”

“U-u-undyne, slow d-d-down!”

Asgore sat up and, smiling, went to greet his former Captain of the Royal Guard and Royal Scientist.

“Howdy, friends! I take it you wish to help Sans too?”

Undyne finished settling Alphys onto the ground, taking off her own coat and wrapping it around the cold-blooded monster. She then grinned widely back.

“Of course! He might be an annoying, over-pranking nerd, but he’s our annoying, over-pranking nerd. Isn’t that right?”

Alphys nodded hastily as she shuffled her way between Asgore and Papyrus.

“Uh, yes. He’s been a f-f-friend of mine for...years? Even b-before the, um, Core incident made you forget, Pap? He...he’s always been there to lend a hand. Even if there w-w-was a whoopie cushion in it.”

Sans’ SOUL chuckled merrily. Toriel, reluctantly, unwrapped her paws from around it and let it gravitate over to Alphys. Her bond was sloppier. It wavered in and out of alignment before finally settling in with an audible snap. Everyone winced.

Alphys’ right hand reached up to rub at her left shoulder.

“Y-yeah. Sorry, Sans, I didn’t, um, didn’t mean to- oh? You really…? Oh, um...thanks.”

The waves of reassurance and humor tickled at Papyrus’ SOUL. He stood up to give Undyne his seat. He swayed, bracing himself on Toriel’s shoulder as a wave of exhaustion washed over him. Sans’ fresh bond with him, as well as Papyrus’ older ones with Undyne and Alphys, all inundated him with concern. He sat back down, and Undyne instead swapped places with Asgore.

“I thought I told you to take a rest, punk! You are going to sit there and warm up your broth- warm up Sans until I tell you otherwise, you here me?”

He wilted, “YES, UNDYNE.”

“Good. Now, Alphys...hey, you’re alright with me doing this, right nerd? I know we’re not exactly besties, but-”

“HE IS FINE WITH IT AS LONG AS YOU DON’T MAKE HIM TAKE COOKING LESSONS AND BURN DOWN THE HOUSE. ONE HOUSE IS MORE THAN ENOUGH. I AGREE.”

Undyne rolled her eye, “Fine, sure. Gimme the SOUL, Alphee.”

The former Captain’s bond took ages to form, crackling and spiking at the slightest sound. Gaster dropped off yet another load in the meantime, Doggo and Lesser Dog loafing into the clearing. Toriel and Alphys politely exchanged positions with them. Everyone’s eyes were trying to find something interesting to look at in the muffling snow. Sans himself was patiently bored, if such a thing existed.

Finally, the bond was fixed with a bright burst of energy that was more show than substance. Undyne’s grin split her face.

“FINALLY! Almost thought you were giving up on me, nerd, but welcome to the family. You now get automatically invited to all Anime Nights and Monster Truck Rallies. So’s Pap, but he never goes. Says it’s too dirty or something.”

Sans gave off the equivalent feeling of waggling eyebrows. Undyne scowled.

“Ugh, fine. But no weird stuff, okay? That cooking show one was confusing as heck.”

Lesser Dog barked, and Undyne turned her head.

“What? Oh, yeah, here you go. Nerd says it’s fine.”

She growled when both Lesser’s and Doggo’s bonds took only a minute each. Lesser looked almost apologetic, but Doggo only grinned and spat out his dog treat.

“No offense, Undyne, but not everyone’s as much of a stick in the mud when it comes to getting pranked as you. Even pulled a few of our own on Sans, over the years. Remember that, Sans? Heh, yup. That was a good one. You and me should team up sometime and get those old fuddy-duddies at the Town Hall something good.”

Asgore chuckled, “I will pretend I never heard that.”

Toriel looked up at the sky.

“Come, Dreemur. I think some of us should get a fire going over in Home. It is somewhat nearer than Snowdin, and certainly possessed of a greater number of guest rooms.”

She stood up, shaking the snow off her gown. She paused halfway upright.

“...what do you mean, Sans?”

Frustration and a query.

“...of course we are going to stay with you. What would possibly make you imagine we would do otherwise?”

The feeling of learning, and paperwork, and impending excitement.

Doggo barked out a laugh, “What, the school? If you aren’t up and about by the time that opens up, they can probably get away with leaving for a day or two. You’ve got, what, seven bonds now? And the Doctor said he was bringing at another two.”

Overwhelm. Doubt, confusion upon confusion, mounting frustration, worry, fear, depression, self-hatred, denial, self-sacrifice, embarrassment...everyone nearby visibly shuddered from what amounted to a physical blow.

The clearing around them swarmed with indigo lights laced with gold. Several tree branches swayed in a non-existent wind. Doggo’s discarded dog treat lifted into the air. Magic surged.

Papyrus neatly reached out and enclosed his once-brother’s SOUL in his own blue attack. The clearing froze, its inhabitants’ expressions ranging from terror and confusion to admiration and even resignation. Slowly, Sans’ power settled down. Papyrus sighed and let loose the containment he had erected.

Alphys coughed. They all faced her.

“What was that?” She squeaked.

Everyone but Papyrus, who was too exhausted, Sans, who was still collapsed, and Doggo, who had been facing the path to Snowdin and had seen the monsters approaching, jumped.

Gaster minced his way into the clearing, a sheepish expression on his face. Behind him, bundled up to his ears in waterproof clothing still damp from the summer rains, Grillby walked with slightly less care.

<Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare anyone.>

Toriel rubbed at the bridge of her nose.

“Of course you did not, Wingdings. Still, you somehow always do. I take it you and Sir Grillby are the last of us?”

Grillby’s hands moved quickly.

-Not Sir, and yes. Gaster thought any more than nine might cause a bit of an overload. There were at least seven more dressed up and ready to go. I think he just got worried and wanted to see Sans for himself.-

Gaster flushed.

<M-maybe, so? Nine bonds in one day is still more than any monster in recorded history has undergone. We have no idea what the effects might be.>

“SO FAR, THEY HAVE BEEN CONFUSION, FRUSTRATION, AND AN INCREASE IN THE DESIRE TO PUN.”

Undyne’s eyes were blazing with excitement.

“Don’t forget that blaze of light, Pap! That had to be the biggest display of raw magic I’ve ever seen!”

Asgore frowned.

“Yes, it was rather large, wasn’t it? Toriel?”

She nodded, “Indeed. How old is Sans, Papyrus.”

The skeleton threw up his hands.

“WHY IS IT THAT EVERYONE ASKS THAT QUESTION OF ME? I DON’T KNOW?”

Two pulses of annoyance, then a pause, then five, then a longer pause, then two and a shrug.

Everyone turned to Sans with astonishment.

Undyne croaked, “Please tell me you forgot how to add up to ninety.”

Laughter and a no.

Lesser dog whined.

-I feel you, my friend. Sans. How in the world have you managed to go so long without bonding?-

Silence. Undyne looked annoyed, then Alphys jumped.

“Oh! Sans, did you c-c-catch any of that?”

Uncertain denial and a request.

“Grillby, um, would you- would you come over here, please? He w-w-wants to talk direct- as d-d-directly to you as he c-c-can.”

Grillby sparked, and hurried over. Gaster laughed, and Toriel scrunched her nose at him. He wiped away the tears as Grillby channeled his flames.

<Sorry, but you have no idea how hilarious that was. Or possibly you do, and I am more hysterical than I thought. Probably that. I don’t think I’ve slept for three days now.>

Alphys, Papyrus, and Toriel scowled at him. He waved them away, oozing closer to his son and the skeleton who had cared so well for him when he had been trapped in the Void. Grillby’s bond settled in seconds before Gaster’s own hands reached out to take the SOUL. Grillby’s flames crackled and popped as he shared a few choice thoughts with the smallest skeleton he knew. Finally, he sighed.

-Sans, I am not sure what you mean. Is this really a surprise?-

Affirmation strong enough to send them all swaying. Toriel herself summoned a handful of fireballs to knock away the bones. Grillby rubbed his forehead.

-No one told you.-

Yes.

-No one explained to you.-

Yes.

-You never bothered to look it up yourself?-

Laziness and nihilism.

“Of course it matters, silly skeleton,” Toriel sounded almost as frustrated as Sans, “We must know so that we can be certain this will not happen to another monster ever again.”

Placid shrug and justification.

Undyne sighed. Gaster sweated as his bond failed to take shape.

“Well, you better give us a good explanation later, punk. What kind of parents would fail to tell their kid something like this.”

Grief quickly brushed aside by defensiveness, then washed over by apathy, then shattered by hatred and fear. The blue bones barely had time to form before they crumpled under the attacks of Doggo and Lesser Dog.

Asgore and Toriel blinked, and Gaster swore as yet another attempt at a bond evaporated at his fingertips.

<Sans, if you do not want me here, please just have one of them tell me. This is getting ridiculous.>

“THAT WASN’T YOU, DAD. SANS HAS...COMPLICATED FEELINGS ABOUT HIS BIRTH FAMILY.”

The complete sensation of Sans response could be translated as: no duh, you think?

<Ah, I see. Nevermind then. I take it I am still welcome here?>

Magic filled the clearing once again.

Asgore cleared his throat, “Sans seems to have...complicated feelings about you as well.”

Undyne happily smashed a spear through a giant, floating skull. Gaster blinked at it in wonder.

He paused.

“HE STILL THINKS YOU ARE MAD AT HIM. AND GUILT. QUITE A LOT OF GUILT,” Lesser Dog whined, “AND SOMETHING LESSER DOG SAYS FEELS EXACTLY LIKE BEING A PUPPY AND GETTING KICKED BY SOMEONE YOU STILL WANT TO CALL YOU A GOOD BOY.”

Papyrus’ scarf unraveled itself from his neck and buried itself on top of Sans’ SOUL and face.

“Yep.”

Gaster sighed and freed Sans’ SOUL from the scarf with care.

<Sans. I am honestly baffled as to why you think I’m supposed to be mad at you. You took care of my son for fifteen years with no warning or training whatsoever. Not to mention the fact that you did so alone, and managed to handle his impression that you were his brother swimmingly. The guilt probably has something to do with that, and if you try to tell me it has anything to do with me and my team falling into the Core I will smother you. Probably in hugs. It was my own fault and you know it.>

He cleared his throat.

He took a deep breath, passing a silent message to Papyrus, who responded with an overwhelming yes.

The energy sprang from Sans’ SOUL to Gaster so quickly he nearly screamed. Then he laughed and let it in, feeling the brilliantly happy, bubbling relief echo through his SOUL.

Undyne snorted, “Looks like you’ve got a brother again, Paps. Try not to shout the mountain down in your excitement.”

Flowey, a few hundred feet away in the bedrooms of Home, winced as Papyrus’ shout of excitement knocked a picture frame down off the wall. He rolled his eyes, picking it back up and tugging it straight on its hook.

“There. Smiley Trash Bag better be getting me something really good for all of this.”

He vehemently trampled down the faint echo of amusement from what, if he had had any more of a SOUL than he did, he would probably have admitted to being a bond.

#platonic bonds #sans the skeleton #papyrus #gaster #toriel #asgore #flowey #grillby #alphys #undyne #undertale fanfiction #undertale fandom #undertale #yastaghr #doggo #lesser dog

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