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smells-like-mettaton · 3 years

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Rating: G

Summary:

“There is nothing I can do, then.” His voice fell somewhere between a statement and a question.

Her palms felt hot. She clenched her fists, snuffing out the fire before it could ignite.

“You can bring back my children.”

(Asgore and Toriel angst, post-pacifist route. Takes place the first night on the surface.)

Word Count: 1,878

XXX

Toriel expected sleeping on the surface to feel a little more comfortable.

Of course, laying sprawled in the grass couldn’t compare to her queen-sized bed. And the breeze was new and old and restless, dancing in her fur and keeping her awake. And somehow, despite not having lungs, Sans was snoring.

Those were just excuses, she knew. The real interruption to her sleep lay on the other side of the clearing, his hulking form too still to be unconscious.

Her ex-husband.

The murderer of her children.

She wasn’t afraid of him. But after all these years, her anger and disgust had fermented to something even more bitter. If she had her way, he would never set foot near her child.

But Frisk was forgiving. More forgiving than Toriel could be.

She sat up just a bit, trying not to make a sound, just so she could check on Frisk. They were still bundled in Sans’ bony arms, seemingly oblivious to the thundering snores. Toriel trusted Sans—despite everything, her friend had fulfilled his promise—but it still pricked a bit that Frisk had chosen him to protect them, rather than her.

It made sense. She’d learned that Sans was the only one who didn’t fight them.

She rolled over. A pointy rock jutted into the fur between her shoulder blades. The stars were too bright.

And Asgore was still too close for comfort.

With a muffled sigh, Toriel got to her feet and padded towards the edge of the clearing. Sans and the others could protect Frisk for now. She just needed a moment to clear her head, to be…

Alone. How long had she been alone? Perhaps that was the problem. So many monsters—and one human—breathing in sync, filling the air with the sounds of life.

You missed that. You missed them. Do not pretend he has not caused your pain.

It was a short walk back to the cliff where they’d exited the underground. The moon—the moon, oh, it was beautiful—hung bright and round as a butterscotch pie. The whole world seemed to spread beneath her feet. The wind caressed her face with the tenderness of a lover—

A lover who had seen her children destroyed. Dead. Stolen from their home, struck down when they set foot outside, rammed through with a trident meant to protect—

“Could you not sleep, either?”

She jolted up at the voice, fire magic already flaring in her palms. The voice’s identity didn’t give her much incentive to put it out.

“Dreemurr,” she said curtly, turning back towards the moon and reluctantly extinguishing her flames. “Do you not have better places to be than bothering a tired old woman?”

“Um.” He coughed. Even after all these years, that cough felt so familiar. “I thought, perhaps you would like some company… but it appears I was mistaken.”

Despite that, she didn’t hear his footsteps leave. Insufferable man.

“You wanted the company.”

He chuckled sadly. “You always could see right through me, Tori—Toriel.”

She pursed her lips at the nickname. How could he still call her that, even by accident? How could he think things could be the same, when he had her children’s blood on his hands?

Paige. Finn. Ceil. Ren. Malia. Dylan. And very nearly Frisk.

“Things will be difficult for us monsters on the surface,” Asgore murmured. “I do not relish leading our people alone.”

Our people. The words stung. The monsters were still her people, but they weren’t her people. She could no longer be their queen. Some wounds just went too deep.

“You will manage, I am sure.” Look at the moon. Not at the man she once loved. “You will have Undyne, and all of the Royal Guard. Against my better judgement, you will have Frisk as your ambassador. You will not be alone.”

The wind whistled between them, almost obscuring Asgore’s next words.

“But they will not be you.”

Toriel’s fur bristled. “You should be grateful they are not. You will find them much more willing to forgive you.”

He flinched. She wasn’t sure when she’d started looking at him again.

“There is nothing I can do, then.” His voice fell somewhere between a statement and a question.

Her palms felt hot. She clenched her fists, snuffing out the fire before it could ignite.

“You can bring back my children.”

Asgore closed his eyes. The moonlight highlighted the creases in his fur, the centuries of pain carved there.

She would know. She’d collected those centuries like scars herself.

“If only I could, Toriel,” he whispered. “If only I could.”

He settled down on the ground a ways off. Just far enough to not technically be in the same space, yet still near enough to make her fur itch.

She should go back to the clearing. Her new friends and her child were there. Without Asgore nearby, she might even be able to sleep.

...No. She doubted she would get a wink now.

Sighing, she started down the path to the clearing—

“Would you tell me about them?”

She paused at his voice, her eyes narrowing. “I suspect you will get to know Frisk well enough on your own.”

“No—them, plural. Your children. The ones I… no.” He shook his head, horns glinting in the moonlight. “I would not cause you more pain if I can help it. I think of Asriel and Chara every day. I thought, perhaps, if you wished to share your fond memories… but I would only taint them.”

He wiped his face with one paw. “I am sorry. There truly is nothing I can do, though I wish with all my soul.”

She blinked at him. His apology, his wishes, his sorrow—none of it could make a difference. None of it could bring her children back.

Paige. Finn. Ceil. Ren. Malia. Dylan.

(Asriel. Chara.)

But she’d saved one. Well, Frisk had mostly saved themself. According to Sans, they’d survived most of the Underground with very little interference. All Toriel had done was return in time to, as Sans put it, “dunk on the king.”

“Toriel…?”

Right. She had been staring.

With a heavy sigh, she settled down in the dirt. Not too close. But not too far, either.

She wouldn't sleep tonight anyway. There were worse things she could do than remember the children who had sacrificed their lives for her freedom.

“Paige,” she said quietly.

“Hmm?” Asgore straightened.

“Paige. She was the first human who fell, after… after Chara.” She swallowed. Heavens, this would not be easy. Yet somehow, despite everything, it felt right.

“Your guards found her in the Ruins. Before I sealed the entrance. She would have stayed with me forever, if it were not for that. I know it.”

She was only seven. Smaller than Frisk, but louder—full of life, full of energy, and at most times, full of the monster candy Toriel left out for the Whimsuns and Froggits. A pink ribbon shimmered in her ponytail, catching the light of Toriel’s fire when they cooked together. Well, when Toriel cooked, and Paige pretended to slice vegetables with her toy knife.

Wherever human souls went to when they died, Toriel hoped she was happy.

“Finn was the next to fall,” she continued. “He had come to Mount Ebott on purpose—I do not think Paige did. I never did figure out how she ended up there…” And Toriel never would, thanks to the man beside her.

Realistically, Paige would be dead by now anyway. Humans did not share the lifespan of boss monsters, and she had fallen hundreds of years ago, so soon after Toriel had lost Asriel and Chara.

And yet it was still an innocent life, ended too soon.

“Finn,” Asgore repeated quietly. Toriel had almost managed to ignore his presence until then.

“He was an odd one. Always surprised that I knew that he was a boy, as if I could not see his soul. Perhaps humans are less discerning in that regard. He loved to play catch in the front yard, and he never gained the taste for snail pie, though he single-handedly kept the spider bakery in business.”

She smiled at that memory. On the few occasions Muffet visited the ruins, she always gave Finn an extra cup of cider with his donuts.

Muffet had later delivered the horrible news herself, rather than leaving it to the spider gossip chain. Finn had been captured by a dog monster outside Snowdin. He’d never gotten to taste the Cinnamon Bunnies he’d snuck off to buy.

She said a prayer for him, though she was no longer sure anyone listened. If someone had, Finn and the other children would still be with her.

“He sounds like quite the sweetheart,” Asgore murmured. Present tense. As if his orders hadn’t been the cause for Finn’s demise.

“I… I can’t do this, Dreemurr.” She squeezed her eyes shut, but all she could see was blood. Blood and dust.

She was free. They were all free. With Frisk’s help, no monsters and humans would fight again.

Was she still too stuck in the past to appreciate just how bright their future could be?

“Toriel—I’m sorry.” His arms fell back to his sides. He had been reaching out, as if to hug her. “I am so sorry…”

“Ceil was sorry,” she whispered. “She left me a note before she disappeared. Nabstablook told her of a cousin with a talent for dance, and she… she wanted nothing more than to perform for monsters, to show that humans were not to be feared…

“And Ren. Always exploring. Reading. Learning. Soaking up whatever knowledge he could, and writing it in his little notebook. I wonder what happened to it when he… when he…”

Tears ran down her face, staining the front of her tunic. Embarrassment flushed her, but why should she care? This was the man who had killed her Ren. Why should she hide her grief?

“Tori—”

“Malia,” she cut him off, her voice shaking. “Always wanted to help. Tried to make my butterscotch pie… I’ll never forget the f-flour on her face…

“And Dylan. Malia’s older brother, searching when she never returned. I had to tell him… tell him I couldn’t protect her…”

She huddled her knees close to her chest, all pretense of dignity gone. It didn’t matter what Asgore thought of her. She knew what she thought of him.

He was a murderer. No matter his intentions, she could not, would not forgive that.

“I…” He held out a hand.

“Don’t touch me, Dreemurr,” she snapped, though her soul was hardly in it.

Her anger wouldn’t bring her children back, any more than Asgore’s regret would.

“I will not.” His voice was soft. The voice of a husband, not a murderer, but ears could deceived. The soul could not.

She had seen the extermination points shielding his soul. Strengthening his trident. He was not the man she remembered.

“Thank you,” he whispered, “for telling me of them.”

She looked up, meeting his tearful gaze with her own.

“You can thank me by removing yourself from my life,” she growled.

Then she stood, and made her way down the mountain.

Her child—the one she had left—would be waiting for her.

#undertale #undertale fic #fic tag #asgore #toriel #angst #tali writes #apparently i write undertale fic now lol

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bugheadfamily · 4 years

Photo

🎶 They're creepy and they're kooky

Mysterious and spooky

They're all together ooky

The Bughead family

Their fic is for the season

When people come to read 'em

They really are a scream

The Bughead family 🎶

Happy Halloween, Buggies! We gladly feast on these mysterious and spooky fics. Below you’ll find a mix of supernatural, horror, dark, and seasonal type fics with Halloween specific ones (marked with a 🎃). Curl up in your favorite costume, pull out the treats, and get your Halloween fic fix here below the cut!

🎃 10.31.17 by @jugandbettsdetectiveagency | T

On that night, when the veil is at its thinnest, he finds his way home.

🎃 A Kiss That Thrills by @lilibetts | E

On Halloween, college students Betty and Jughead go through a Haunted House and finally act on their respective crushes.

And the Ash Shall Rise by @likemereckless | M

Riverdale is actually Purgatory (why else would so many crazy things happen in one town!) Jughead Jones, Shadowman of purgatory level one has been tasked with finding an Awakened soul, one who the Premier Shadowman says jeopardizes the future of their world. When Jughead discovers Betty Cooper’s soul down by the River Styx he finds all is not as it seems and a final battle between Heaven and Hell is on the verge of breakout. *It’s Purgatory so ALL characters are dead. *You will find out how they died. *Get ready for a ride!

🎃 Be More Chill by @literatiruinedme | M

Betty and Jughead run into each other in the bathroom at the annual Blossom Halloween party.

body talks by @justcourbeau | NR

Instead of late morning light being his wake up call, Jughead was woken by the horrendous chirp of an alarm clock going off, and, really, that should have been the first sign that something was wrong.

Cooper’s Monsters by @cooperandjonesinc | M

In the darkened halls of an abandoned mental hospital Dr. Hal Cooper has been making monsters.Betty, oblivious to her father’s machinations, comes across a horrifying creature. Together can they stop the doctor and free the others?

Curl of Ash by @darknessaroundus | T

Jughead attempts to save a strangers life in Queens one night. Nothing is what it appears to be.

Darkside by @exmachina187, @itsmarscosta | E

Jughead has had centuries to reflect on his life, but none of it had meaning until she came along.

Dear Angel series by @tory-b | M/E

🎃 Dirty Devil by @thesecretfandom | E

Betty and Jughead are celebrating Halloween, but their costumes seem to be interfering with their fun.

Dust & Desire by @darknessaroundus | T

They have a rhythm to their days, the result of having very little company but each other for years now. When Betty wakes from the nap, they eat mac and cheese before they go hunting. A Vampire Slayer AU.

erase & rewind by @sopaloma | M

When a powerful storm hits Riverdale, five students are hit by lightning as they leave school. The result of that storm will change their lives forever, in ways they never could have imagined. A Misfits AU.

Ever Since We Met by @lilibetts | M

It's almost All Hallow's Eve and witch!Betty has a broomstick breakdown. She lands near werewolf!Jughead's bar and he helps her out...by giving her another broom to ride.

🎃 go home people (the party’s not over) by @grilledcheesusyouredelic | T

“It was your dad’s idea,” Betty chirped. “He told my mom that if people were going to stare at us she may as well make it worth her while.” Jughead bit back a sigh. “And she said ‘like what, throw a party’? And he said ‘sure, Alice, the perfect holiday is coming up’.”

🎃 Howling by @lovedinapastlife | T

Jughead’s working a shift at the Blossom haunted house when he spots a familiar blonde ponytail and decides to try and give her a scare. He ends up smashed in the face, real blood added to his costume. Horrified, Betty tries to make it up to him. She’s nervous to finish the house by herself, so Jughead offers to let her work on a few scenes and scares with him until Archie comes back from his break. There’s nothing quite like method acting with a childhood crush and best friend when hearts are pounding and limbs are entangled in a ravenous display. Something’s building inside of them, a low, penetrating howl.

🎃 I Don’t Have a Lot of Friends by @typing123 | M

Joker Jughead and Harley Betty meet at a Halloween Party. It’s definitely a treat.

Interview with the Coopers by @typing123 | E

What a perfect little family they make

🎃 It’s A Great Pumpkin, Jughead Jones by @alisoncollis | NR

Jughead and Betty go to a pumpkin patch.

i will hang on the hook of your splendour by @jughead-jones/@stark | G

“We have to go up to Woodland House tomorrow,” Betty said, hopping out of the back of the van the night before, dressed in something that she called summer sleepwear and Jughead deemed to be sweet torture. “There has to be a clue there about these abductions.”Mystery Inc AU

Jug the Ripper by @lovedinapastlife @theheavycrown | NR

Murder kink isn’t on the menu—not really. But he’ll do anything for his beloved.

🎃 Let the Right One In by @yavannie | T

When Jellybean talks Jughead into going to a Halloween-themed birthday party in Greendale, she does such a good job on his make-up that not even his best friend can tell it’s him.

🎃 love is kinda crazy (with a spooky little girl like you) by @whaticameherefor | G

Jughead always thought that falling in love would feel like a punch to the gut. It didn’t, of course. It was more like a punch to the face. Right in the nose, to be exact.

🎃 Movie Night on Elm Street by @bettsc | NR

Jughead Jones finds himself at the Cooper household on Halloween night, and it’s not just the scary movies that are giving him goosebumps.

🎃 No Guts No Glory by @thesecretfandom | E

Jughead may have taken their pumpkin carving competition a bit too far, and now it’s Betty’s job to get the both of them cleaned up.

🎃 Nobody Knows You Now by @bettsc | M

They moved like this for what seemed like hours; neither one relenting to the other; both losing themselves in the intertwining of two souls.

🎃 october 2017 by @elizabethbettscooper | G

“Jug, you’re home!” she glanced up, grinning at him. He nudged off his shoes and started towards her.

“So it seems.” he said, smirking and dropped onto the floor beside her. “What’s up, Betts?”

“Do you have plans tomorrow? I want to go to the pumpkin patch.”

“The… pumpkin patch.” Jughead raised an eyebrow and put his arm across the sofa seat, leaning in to look at Betty’s planner.

Outbreak by @moon--mama | T

The breakdown only took 36 hours.

🎃 Over the Wall by @typing123 | T

The Over the Garden Wall AU nobody asked for.

🎃 Pumpkin Spice (and all things nice) by @itsindiansummer13 | G

Jughead, Betty, and Halloween through the years.

Seek Forbidden Things by @maeve-of-winter | T

Kevin Keller has gone missing from Riverdale, and it’s up to Betty and the rest of the gang to bring him back.

🎃 Self control by @bettyscooperr | NR

Jughead just really hates Halloween

Spirits, Are You There? by @jugandbettsdetectiveagency | T

An abandoned asylum, plus a ouija board, plus Cheryl Blossom? The perfect potion.

Strange and Unusual by @lovedinapastlife | M

AU loosely based on the film Beetlejuice - where a ravenous ghoul and a shrewd teen make a strange and unusual alliance that goes far deeper than convenience.

strange days by @sopaloma | T

His sister is missing, his dad is talking to Christmas lights and Betty Cooper needs his help. November 1983 is a strange time for Jughead Jones. A Stranger Things AU.

Taboo. by anonymous | NR

Death becomes her.

The Beast Within series by @cooperjones2020 | M/E

He likes to watch her sleep.

🎃 the business of being dead (and the curse of virginity) by @thetaoofbetty | M

🎃 The Cooper House by @satelliteinasupernova | T

“Let’s go to a haunted house, Jughead,” Jellybean had said. “It’ll be fun,” she said.

Except, now he was turned around somewhere in a dark hallway; alone. With no source of light nearby, he could barely make out his surroundings. Tentatively, he reached out to use the wall to guide him, taking one step at a time. The surface of the wall was uneven and with each step he felt another notch as his hand moved across one panel of wood to the next. The floor creaked softly under his feet. Here in the dark, it was unnervingly quiet. The only other sound he could hear was of the wind passing through the trees outside the house.

“Hey, JB?” he called out. “Where the hell did you go?”

🎃 The First Halloween Since by @typing123 | G

Single Mom Betty doesn’t think she can face Halloween this year. She just wants a quiet night in with her daughter. Jughead’s not so sure.

THE HOUSE IS NOT HAUNTED by @satelliteinasupernova | T

“For the hundredth time, the house is not haunted,” said Gladys Jones as she lifted another box from the U-haul to carry into the house. “Now, go help your brother carry your things to your bedroom.”

JB huffed, and marched over to Jughead, reaching for her box of vinyl records, “How else did we get this place so cheap? You know it’s because that girl disappeared here.”

Silently, Jughead agreed with her, but he was getting tired of the argument. He knew JB wasn’t bringing this up to stop them from moving into the new house, she just wanted their mom to admit that was the reason they could even afford it. Gladys Jones wasn’t one to own up to her own methods, much less admit weakness.

The Hunger by @mistressofmalplaquet | M

Betty is being slowly starved at the Farm, while Jughead is hungry for blood. Hunger and seductive Blood Lust leads the pair into a swirl of terror, torture, and an inescapable dark fate.

🎃 The Jack-O-Gram by @noorakardemmomesaetre | T

The Jack-O-Gram has become the perfect way for Riverdale High students to express their feelings for someone special before the Halloween Banshee Bash at the end of the week.

Betty can't help but hope she receives one from the only boy who's ever captured her heart, Jughead Jones.

the key to (harm)ony by @lovedinapastlife | E

Everything else falls away, even her mother, sister, and Geraldine, when he steps towards her, untethered and confident with the grace of a circulating fountain. Up close, his eyes are blue - brilliant and deep like Sweetwater River, just on the verge of a knowing wink. His long spider-leg lashes flutter as he exhales in a hum of satisfaction, and the longer she looks at him the more it feels like she’s in the tub, water rising up over her chin until she can’t breathe.

“Hello, Betty,” he says with a soft, secret smile, and her heart rattles.

~~~

Betty resents her drunken mother's attempt to replace the recently deceased Charles with a stranger, his enigmatic half-brother Jughead. It's almost like he's waiting for the right moment to please her, to slink into her latest mystery and submerge her in something foreign: Freedom.

🎃 The Mouse by @typing123 | G

A hungry Jughead is lured into the woods on Halloween by a hungry vampire.

🎃 The One That I Want by @dreamersshouldknowbetter | T

Betty and Jughead meet at a Halloween party where they accidentally form two halves of a couples costume

the strange death of Elizabeth Cooper by @wolfofansbach | T

Betty Cooper, after a long struggle with illness, has passed away. Except–she hasn’t, because against all rhyme and reason, she awakens on the coroner’s slab, hale and healthy. The illness is gone, and she couldn’t be in better condition, to the weeping relief of her friends and family, not least of all her longtime boyfriend, Jughead Jones. No real explanation is forthcoming, but what does it really matter, when Betty is alive? And he can discount the occasional oddity in her behavior. She’s been through a lot, after all. Except, as the days go by and the strange happenings pile on, Jughead begins to suspect that whatever it is that crawled out of the grave that day isn’t really Betty Cooper.

🎃 the unexpected perks of being a pumpkin by @thetaoofbetty | M

Jughead Jones has a damn good Halloween.

🎃 Things that Go Bump in the Night by @createandconstruct | T

Are sometimes things that also squeal…

Thrill Me, Chill Me, Fulfill Me by @ms-maj | T

The gang does Rocky Horror.

Time Honoured Tradition by @jugandbettsdetectiveagency | T

When Cheryl dares Betty to spend some time in the abandoned house across the street she gets a little more than she bargained for.

What Happened on Elm Street by @tory-b | M

When Jughead Jones moves to Riverdale with his family, he uncovers a few mysteries this simple small town has been trying to cover up–specifically the murder that occurred in his house during the late 1950s that was never properly solved. Unable to keep his curiosity away, he teams up with neighbor and fellow mystery lover Betty Cooper to uncover the truth.

🎃 what we pretend to be by @sylwrites | G

It’s his little sister’s first Halloween, but his parents don’t have money for a costume or the time to take her trick-or-treating. The answer to both of these problems comes in the form of his best friend’s neighbour.

🎃 What’s Your Favourite Scary Movie? by @gellsbellshead | T

Betty Cooper doesn’t do scary movies. However maybe she could be persuaded by some cuddling from her boyfriend Jughead. This is a continuation of the fic “Movie Night”

🎃 when things go bump and grind at night by @rainystripe | M

Betty dresses up and Jughead is her slave.

Wild Creatures by @lilibetts | E

Neither Betty Cooper or Jughead Jones were particularly hopeful about their soulmarks; the inky black First Words seemed custom built for their hole-hearted selves. But with a mysterious game ensnaring students on campus, and killing some, it was a question of whether they would learn to work together before them being at cross-purposes destroyed everything.

🎃 Wish Fulfillment by @lilibetts | T

On Halloween, the core four meet up to go Trick-or-Treating, only to find themselves turning into their costumes. Revelations are had for Jughead and Betty.

🎃 won’t you tell me what you’re thinking of? by @flwrpotts | G

Betty enlists Jughead, Reggie, and Archie to help her set up for the annual Riverdale middle school Halloween dance.

Still haven’t satisfied your itch for Halloween fics? Check out our fanfic tag on @riverdale-events! Our Halloween event, Tricks and Treats of Riverdale, is going on and you can find fics posted exclusively to Tumblr there!

#bughead #betty x jughead #bughead fanfiction #bughead fanfic #bughead fic rec #riverdale #betty cooper #jughead jones #halloween #fanfic #fic rec #masterlist #*admin #tricksandtreatsofriverdale #riverdaleevents

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undoundue · 4 years

Text

a season in hellsite - chapter 1

chapter 1. in which horatio and bacchus play chess

now the tale tells that darkness gave way to light, or else light filled a space where light had not recently been. the issue is theologically contentious, and at the time no one could be sure.

the light played an important role in the events that were to come. first it hit bacchus’s eyes. then it hit horatio’s eyes. then it hit bacchus’s eyes again, then it hit horatio’s eyes again, and this process repeated several thousand times in the next few seconds, until the light took a break.

the light did not hit the same spot each time, because of angles. it hit a narrow circle very well, and then a wider circle less well, and then an even wider circle far worse than that, because light is by nature a specialist.

now individually, these halos were not exciting, though everyone had his or her preference: but the width of the aureoles varied intriguingly, unlike the areas the light had not touched, which were all the same shade of black. so the boys ascended their subjectivities, refracting the light from their convex lenses as it bustled to describe the scene.

we may morbidly wonder how horatio and bacchus felt in this moment as the red sun dawned and with it their damnation. however, it took them a minute to realize what they were looking at, and in the interim they did not have interiority, so we cannot truthfully comment upon their thoughts or feelings, though we can surmise that in a certain qualialess way they too felt the soul-crushing dread of existential freedom—this being the onus upon all souls who wander the afterlife accurst, unguided by the voice of instinct that, after all, is only borrowed from God.

but what the tale says with confidence is this: one day horatio and bacchus looked up and noticed that they were in hell. neither of them remembered how they had gotten there, but neither of them were surprised.

“—,” horatio said, and he moved as if to speak, but then he saw bacchus starting to speak, so he stopped.

“—,” bacchus said, and then stopped for similar reasons.

“—,” horatio said, starting up again, but then he saw horatio starting up again, so he stopped, and then bacchus stopped as well.

“your move,” bacchus said.

“sorry, i was developing interiority,” horatio said.

“it’s ok,” bacchus said.

“yeah it’s okay,” horatio said: and he played 1. e4.

now when it was bacchus’s turn he did not blithely reach for 1…e5, nor the sicilian. oh no. instead he conjured two quartz goblets and poured in blood-red wine.

horatio said, “where did you get the wine?”

bacchus said, “i can infinitely generate wine, it’s one of my god powers.”

(note at this juncture that bacchus is class DYING-AND-RISING GOD, level 1, while horatio is class GEOMETRICA FRAUDULENTUS, level 1.)

“what the fuck,” horatio said.

“yeah, it owns,” bacchus said. “except it doesn’t really affect me because my blood is like 30% GABA at baseline? but it’s cool at weddings and such.”

so they drank. and bacchus made like he was going to move 1…e5, but instead he just grazed it and said “j’adoube.” horatio gave him a look.

and bacchus said, in a voice of ambiguous irony: “if i did move that piece, we would be much akin to those frozen center pawns: stuck in the zugzwang of existential freedom.”

“and also we can only capture on our diagonals,” horatio said.

“yeah,” bacchus said, “or, i don’t know, man. i suspect it's my history of epub piracy—that, or sometimes i've said something that sounded like it was nice, but by adhering too close to the letter of the law, i was actually deconstructing that niceness, mocking it, and God knew. that, or it was a sin of omission. that, or—and here's what's most likely—every decision i’ve ever made has been five degrees off-course. i trusted my instincts, and my instincts were good, but then i ran into the error margin, and unfortunately, i was too consistent, too kantian, too tragically good, perhaps, which—and i’m not trying to exculpate myself here, because if i did something wrong i would be the first to admit it—which could happen to anyone.”

now bacchus drank. and he stood and dusted the knees of his toga, and looked up at the heavens, and down at the earth, as if the two had been briefly confused.

“look,” horatio said sagely.

“yeah?” bacchus said.

“in the field of anthropology, it has been found that nearly every system of morality prohibits acute angles,” horatio said.

“yeah?” said bacchus.

horatio said: “so i suspect i went wrong in a similar way.”

now horatio took a drink. and from whence he was prone, he rolled supine, and felt the wind move over him: west, then east, then west, then east, a little weaker with each breath, folding in on itself like a blanket.

“also, my only charitable cause was wikipedia,” horatio said.

“same, of course,” bacchus said.

“dude, seriously,” horatio said, “it’s your move.”

but bacchus did not want to move. and so a long time passed in which they were kind of bored and did not know what to do. every few days one of them would feel the urge to eat or sleep, and so they would do

that, though the summoned pad thai got samey after a while and sleep was a time-skip without rest or even a recuperative panel of black, and their ghostly eidolons didn’t have to eat or sleep or perform any other bodily function for that matter, but it was a distraction. even so, now and then they looked up and noticed they were in hell: and neither of them were surprised.

“okay,” horatio finally said, “do you want to play a chess variant?”

so they played:

courier chess (german chess)

fortress chess (russian chess)

xiangqi (chinese)

jangqi (korean)

scottish chess (white moves once, then black moves twice, then white moves three times, and so on)

senterej (ethiopan; both sides start playing at the same time and make as many moves as they like until the first capture)

shatranj (persian)

shatar (mongolian; in which the king cannot castle, and the knight cannot deliver mate),

and then they briefly played connect 4. they thought about but did not play scrabble. they played checkers. and then they played:

turkish checkers

canadian checkers,

and then they dropped canadian checkers like so many rules and played go: go was fun, but lacked a certain je ne sais quoi; they switched to blue-red hackenbush. then they played chess. they played:

shogi (japanese chess), including but not limited to: micro-shogi, whale shogi (pieces with variant movesets, named after whales), tori shogi (birds), hasami shogi, trishogi, hexshogi, masonic shogi, space shogi (nine 9x9 shogi boards stacked vertically), and taikyoku shogi (402 pieces of 209 types on a 36x36 board)

atomic chess, kamikaze chess, avalanche chess, dunsany’s chess, and hexagonal chess (variants: brusky’s, de vasa’s, mccooey’s, shafran’s, gliński’s);

meanwhile bacchus kept them amped on high-tannin wine—tossing aside used goblets and summoning new ones—it was a cantrip that cost him not a soul point (SP), the class equivalent to horatio’s knack for summoning abstract games.

"do you think tannins are funny?" bacchus asked shyly. then, hearing his voice and finding it mellifluous, he became bold: “yeah…i'm thinking tannins are funny.”

“tannins are kinda funny, yeah,” horatio said.

name prime numbers (basically, they competed at naming large prime numbers, but eventually horatio named the biggest one and they had to stop)

but they felt like they were running out of steam. so they played all the games listed above, but as drinking games, wherein every time one spotted a pattern one had to take a drink. as a consequence of this behavior they became quite drunk.

“i don't know…….” bacchus said dysarthrically, “i feel like i messed up….…”

“what is this! i thought you didn’t get drunk!” horatio exclaimed.

“no!…i said, wine didn’t affect me,” bacchus countered, “but my ebriety [vocab word] can still be perpetuated by the endogenous, xanax-like molecule that floats in my ichor, i.e. the blood of the gods…!"

bacchus tripped and then caught himself. he smiled at gravity with the warm antagonism one holds for a cartoon villain, then turned his 18 charisma on horatio. but horatio, whose alignment was lawful neutral, was unimpressed.

“well, you did mess up,” horatio said, “you’re in hell.”

“yeah, but i don’t think i should have to feel guilty on top of that,” bacchus said, “guilt is un-dionysian! it’s bluepilled!”

“okay, so then don’t,” horatio said.

“okay,” bacchus said, “then i won’t!”

“okay!” horatio said.

“okay!” bacchus said.

they both felt better after this interaction. soon bacchus was puking into an ink-black river.

"yeah, i'm feeling it," bacchus said.

"you're feeling it?" horatio said.

"yeah, i'm feeling this is dionysian as fuck," bacchus said.

now the river was utterly opaque to light, so one would expect it to have the consistency of tar, but the boys were surprised to observe that to the touch it was thin as water. so they went uphill and upstream to a slow-moving pool and rinsed their hands and splashed their faces and hair. in the pool, dark nymphs with sporty swimsuits swam until they became silly with paresthesias; and the satyrs leapt in chortling menacingly like hoo hoo hoo and ho ho ho and the nymphs would giggle with elusive allusive illusive knowledge, and within a few minutes both had forgotten lifetimes, staring at each other like babies in a warm and curious fog.

by the time the boys had looked up from the river that did not show their image, they had forgotten most of the engrams their souls had contained.

“word,” bacchus said; though this should have come earlier.

“yo,” horatio said, “i’m pretty drunk.”

“yeah,” bacchus started to say, but for some reason he stopped and instead stared blankly.

“yeah,” horatio thought about saying; but he was too tired, so instead he stared blankly too.

the next one hundred years were spent in a hangover.

some of the games they played during the hangover include:

moving their hip flexors

moving their knee extensors

moving the plantar-flexing muscles of the feet

moving their hip extensors (meta-breaking)

moving their knee flexors

moving the dorsi-flexing muscles of their feet

by this point their enthusiasm for the lower extremities had dimmed—horatio bored when he had solved the path to the game’s solution, bacchus discouraged when the flapping of the map recalled to him the territory—and the psoas and quadratus lumborum muscles were given only a cursory trial.

their attention moved superior (we are skipping over the reflex arcs and smooth muscle contractions that took place automatically, such as laughter, sneezing, and vasodilation, though the boys became skilled at those too) as the boys practiced other forms of iterated narrowing choice: the brash trapezius giving way to the stoic biceps, the careful flexors, the presumptuous precision of fingers and thumb closing three pixels away from the yearned-for dimensionless point. they considered past encounters with such discrepancy: ah yes, these were the angles who ached to lose themselves in intersection. three pixels. electricity clenched efference on no choice at all.

“we could play chess,” horatio attempted to say.

but he had forgotten how to speak. horatio gestured with his hand (though not in a way that was interesting or original or which had semantic meaning) and briefly he felt good (due to dopamine) because he had moved (which felt like an accomplishment) but soon he stopped moving (and the dopamine faded) and then he was still.

“uhn,” bacchus said.

to explain these profound deficits is difficult. we must note that, in addition to the known amnestic effects of alcohol and the river lethe, their circadian rhythms were off. managing the boar-driven chariot that drew the sun across the sky was not a highly-sought position: the black sun rose during the day, and the red sun rose at night; but the red sun did not rise every night, and though the black sun was more timely it was directionally impaired: rising in the south and setting in the north, rising in the northwest and setting in the northeast, or rising in the north and taking a strange zig-zag pattern to the south and back—possibly an attempt to draw a “cool S”. we can also say with confidence that the grayish vapors disseminated from the cracked obsidian of the forsaken earth did not have a salubrious effect. finally, we must note that the boys’ amnesia could have resulted from the omnipresent rule of demonic soul magic, in which what is attended to becomes real, and what is not attended to, does not.

now at this time horatio and bacchus girded themselves with determination, even though it caused them sadness, and tried to recall language. it started with a sharp inspiration and then a slow expiration, “ooooooo”; which got a laugh, and with pursed lips they varied the number of oo’s for a while before settling upon 6 to 8 as the optimal (i.e. funniest) range. then they widened the distance between their lateral commissures to make eeeeee, and they dropped their mandibles and flattened their tongues to make aaaaaah, and these too were amusing, if admittedly juvenile in the way of all unperturbed air. hence the consonants: one would lead off with a gggggggg and the other would breathe the metronome of expectation and listen to gggggggggggggggggggggggg continuing past all semantic purpose until with some internal wrenching of sockets this noise would give way to eeeeee, and they would laugh.

various orderings of consonants and vowels were tried as the sophistication of their humor increased. now with words they recalled meanings, and with meanings they became capable of irony, and shortly thereafter they were back to their old ways.

“1…e5,” bacchus said.

“holy shit,” horatio said.

and so the boys continued to game systematically, but not as systematically as they once had; and they continued to drink, but sometimes in moderation.

“do you think there's a psychological typology of chess openings?" bacchus asked, “like, certain types of people prefer certain openings, to clarify?”

“yes,” horatio said.

“yeah, i think so too,” bacchus said.

2. Bc4 Nc6

3. Qh5 Nf6??

4. Qxf7#

now by this time horatio fundamentally understood bacchus, and bacchus fundamentally understood horatio, but not in the way that allowed them to make predictions about individual actions, so they kept being surprised. for it was evident that the light that limned them had exhausted innumerable other options before settling upon this one, because the scene had purpose and harmonious proportion. and even though the light vacillated across moments of perception, in each moment, it seemed that it could be no other way.

“yeah man,” horatio eventually said, “my take is, you can be in a bad place, and still make a good thing of it.”

horatio tilted the white queen and rolled her base across the fatal square.

“in fact, maybe it's better to have a good time in a bad place, on your own terms, than to be in a good place, conditional upon doing what you’re told,” he said.

“well,” bacchus said, spinning the board, “maybe.”

and with a desultory sweep, horatio brought pawns and knights errant to the frontier of their steady-state, while bacchus, kneeling, with three arcs of divine manumission lifted pawn, queen, and bishop directly to their native squares.

chapter 1 - END

#a season in hellsite #ash #horatio #bacchus #chess

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kurtty-drabbles · 5 years

Text

Misfit au (revealing)

@djinmer4

N/A: ideas make the world turn around. Djinmer4 give me some ideas and now, this chapter exists. Columbina is really smart, but, a bit naïve and I think that´s a combination I can like. I think that Kitty´s group still using the Suicide Squad is a bit cruel, especially as it is linked to tragedy, so, they´re now the Siren.

Captain Washington asked for help of all heroes, and in a turn of events that shocked no one, she asked Columbina´s help as well along with the others Sirens to defeat a super-villain that can control time, It was a very intense battle that highlights each one best ability. In the end, the good guys defeat the villain. (“We´re not the good guys, we´re neutral part” “Oh, my bad, Columbina”)

The side effect is that everyone is extremely tired, especially one Columbina, Blink and Warpath went together home, the couple makes no secret they are together, Polaris is behind talking with White Witch and QuickFlash, Ice Woman is showing some energy to the fire type heroine FireAngel( now making impossible for Tory to make fun of Kitty´s liaison with Creepy) and finally, Doc Croc went with Dark Claw, in few words, both will capture the rogue villain that was helping the primary villain of the week.

Columbina is far too tired to crack jokes, instead, she flies away and immediately spots her house. She weirds out a little as her house seems bigger than usually is, but, then again, she´s tired and everything looks different in the dark.

Columbina saw her couch and shirking herself as a cat would. It didn't need much to make Columbina sleep and have nice dreams, it was a shame Creepy wasn´t there in the mission, but, she can fill him in later.

Kurt Ryder wakes up in his usual time. Groaning loudly the man leave the bed and went to the kitchen to make the breakfast, as usual, except, one sleeping Columbina is in his view. And a smile plays on his face as the woman does sleep as her namesake suggests. Like a kitty.

Finally, Columbina wakes up, again, resembling an adorable cat, and looks around confused for a moment and then her eyes(still with her make up intact) search and found Kurt Ryder and quickly jumps from the couch. “What are you doing in my house? Wait, that´s not my house, what am I doing here?”

Kurt Ryder is so thankful for the acting lessons he had or else he would burst laughter now.”That´s my house, Columbina, and I´m about to make breakfast, would mind to join me?” The explanation Columbina offers is that she misses her own house, which again, Kurt is amused but is still keeping a professional look. Columbina is now trying to fix this little mistake a civilian can´t know who she is nor has any contact with Columbina.

They eat breakfast, well, Columbina had to make as Ryder is a terrible cooker. “How?” is the only question she made and without waiting for an answer is doing breakfast (Ryder manages to explode their breakfast and spoiling his own shirt) and Ryder is being really professional about it.

Once real food is put on the table, she is gazing upon him. The famous reporter of “you´re wrong” is right next to her and Kitty knows how Kurt Ryder is the type to go all the way for a new. Time to cut the evil by its root.

“Look, Ryder” she forgets to make her fake accent and quickly adjust this situation, however, the accent seems a bit Germanic now and Kurt Ryder is being too professional, while, Kitty is blushing and pretending to clear her throat. “I mean, Look, Ryder, I´m a dangerous person and I´d admit I made a mistake last night” Kitty feels as she just had one night stand and is trying to leave this prompts her to blush again, thank god for the good make up “and I need to know you won´t babble about this. My secret life needs to be kept as a secret”

Kurt Ryder can understand that. “I can understand that. So, rest assured, Columbina, no one will know what happened last night” Kurt Ryder can play with words too.

Kitty blushes and went far beyond than what she was planning. “Look, if you break this promise I can call Creepy to visit you and he won´t like “ Kitty crosses her arms and looks intimidating enough, at least, that´s what she hopes for.

Kurt Ryder is thankful for the acting lessons. “Oh, really?! I somehow doubt you can make Nightcreeper do anything he does not want to do”

Kitty just smirks “Wanna bet? Ryder, you may be strong, but, Creepy is way stronger and the man really likes to protect me” Kitty nods remembering the last event they face together, without her knowing, Ryder is thinking the same.

“Oh, then, by all means, maybe, you should call him now. In fact, “Ryder gives her his phone “go call him now, I think this is something he needs to know”

Kitty pretends to dial a number (the art of faking pressing digits is overreacting) and pretends to call with Creepy. Somehow, there´s something wrong in this scene that she can´t put a finger on. “So, yeah, if he babbles out…you´ll kick his ass? Thanks”

Kurt Ryder is so thankful for the acting lessons.

Kitty Pryde meet Kurt Ryder in the halfway of his studio, a cacophony of sounds are being made and Kitty sees Ryder in the centre of attention of everyone. The man stops giving an order(much to the interns' relief) once spotting Kitty Pryde.

“Everyone, break of 5 minutes” Ryder suggest/order and no one is questioned the perfectionist.

“Uh, sorry, I didn´t mean to stop your work” Kitty starts once they are on a coffee and the man just waves off saying he needs a break anyway and he prefers to drink coffee with her then give orders to his interns.

Kitty is biting her lips as she summons the courage to ask. “So, anything out of normal happens to you? I mean, on my way here I saw Green Tempest fighting with her boyfriend and it was a loud fight”

Kurt Ryder is too amused now. “No, actually, nothing happens with me, my morning was pretty mundane, was the fight that serious?” Kurt asked noticing her shock face. “Oh, yes, I think they were in a love triangle, so, your morning was…normal? Nothing of extraordinary happens?”

Kurt puts his coffee down and then looks at her. “Well, something did happen” and Kitty is looking at him firmly. “I wake up and that´s extraordinary”

Kitty is speechless. Kurt continues speaking. “Actually, since we´re here, do you still want more tips for your show? Making fun of journalism should be made but…you need the right pieces” Kitty blinks and nods.

And they spend more than 5 minutes talking and Kitty is taking notes. Somehow, this begins their routine. And Kitty can say the man is trustworthy.

“You know, when I heard about you, I thought you were just arrogant, but, now, I can see you´re more than that and I´m impressed with how much you conquered in such short time” Kitty speaks and Kurt Ryder can offer a smile mixing a bit of gratefulness and smugness.

“You did conquer a lot too. Your show, for example, is rare to see a show where the humour is not based on racism or sexism. You´re far intelligent than you give credit for”

“I just make fun of Columbina, but, maybe I self-project into her…” her face is devoid of her usual smile and Kurt Ryder wants to know what happened on Kitty´s past, what she´s hiding

“Well, then, believe me, you´re far more intelligent than you give credit for,” Ryder said in a soft tone.

“So, I could be a reporter like you?”

“Uhm, with lots of training I´d not see why not” ____________________________________________________________________ Kitty is back at her place and is ready to call a day and enjoy a nice free night, however, a green furry lunatic has other plans. Nightcreeper is on the balcony on her house far too amused as the man points out the many fun spots he could find.

“Creepy!” Kitty replied happy to see the man, until, she realizes he never actually meet Kitty Pryde, so, she changes her demur to a scared woman. “Who are you, you creepy dude?” and Kitty has the broom in her hands as an improvised weapon.

Creepy is only giggling madly at this. “Cute, very cute,” he said as adjusting his boa and then sitting on her coach, he mentioned, how her coach is smaller than it should be and Kitty has no idea what he meant by that. “I´m here to see you”

“what?”

“Yeah, Columbina called me saying Ryder is may giving her trouble and I thought, hey, the best time to see how Columbina is doing on her free night” Creepy explained giving one of his smiles and is pleased that she´s sitting next to him.

“You knew I was Columbina the entire time?”

“Of course, I didn´t tell you?”

Nightcreeper is on patrol and Columbina is right along with him, Dark Claw is asking for help and the lunatic has no problem in going cartoony with the rescue plan. Columbina watches as the Hyena´s henchman flee in fear as the lunatic is giggling chasing after the criminals. Columbina is really only watching.

Bullets do nothing for Nightcreeper. Knives mean nothing.

And the Hyena even try to run over Nightcreeper, which, of course, it fails completely and the Hyena is begging to be arrested. Dark Claw and Jubilee arrive, having to take the hostages of Hyena to a safe place, and are ready to lock Hyena away for good.

“Creepy, that was amazing,” she said and the lunatic beams at her compliments. “So, Creepy, can I introduce you to Ryder? I mean, I know he won´t tell my secret but…if he sees you …”

Nightcreeper laughs and shakes his head. “No, sounds boring, let´s do something else”

Jubilee and Dark Claw look at each other. “So, she still has no clue?”

Columbina is a creature of habits, she knows that, so if Kitty Pryde has a habit of always meeting Kurt Ryder and talking with him, then, Columbina has the same one. The man is reading the news as Columbina arrives.

“If you want me to keep your secret as a secret show up in broad daylight is not the way to go” Ryder chastised her a little, but, Columbina waves him off.

“Green Tempest and her boyfriend are made up and no longer bowling, is on twitter now” and Columbina´s words are true. “I´m here to…” she stops her dark tone when she looks at the kitchen “AGAIN?”

Kurt Ryder just smiles apologetically. And once again, Columbina has to make him breakfast. Once is done she said. “Look, I talk with Creepy and he won´t do anything with you, it was difficult to convince him but he won´t hurt you, I can trust you”

“Thanks, I can sleep better now”

“But” now her eyes are a bit dark and Ryder has to admit now she looks 10x hotter “I need to know what is your intentions with Kitty Pryde” and then she amends by adding “she´s my favourite actress and I don´t see her in pain” her eyes narrow at him and again, she gets 10x hotter now. Thank god, he´s not on his Creepy form.

“My intentions with Kitty Pryde are the best. I want to date her if she wants me”

This caught Columbina out of the guard. “I ask around about your love life and well, Kitty Pryde does need to deal with any crazy ex”

“Fair enough, but, I´d want to date her, my crazy ex is just that. Crazy and my ex. There´s no love triangle here” Kurt is really good at acting “she´s cute, smart, resilient and ambitious. Many people ask me why I would want her, and honestly, those people are blind, why no one would want to date a woman like her?”

Columbina is looking away cleaning her make up as she´s crying a little. “Well, ok, I´m just making sure as you know…no crazy ex” Kurt nods “ and if you do something with her…I´ll call Creepy”

Kurt nods sagely.

“Creepy?” Columbina asked resting her face on his chest who is vibrating as the man is laughing maniacally “one, don´t do evil laughter, you don´t need, and two, what are we?”

“A physiological question to make. Maybe we´re just characters from a fanfiction, who knows?”

“No that, I mean, us. Would you be mad if I accept someone´s else invitation to a date, would you be mad?” Creepy now looks at Columbina. “Who?” his voice is showing displeasure and Columbina adds. “Kurt Ryder” and that´s the magic word as the man is back to his happy crazy self.

“Oh, no, not a problem, Katzchen” Creepy promised.

Columbina blinks.

Kurt Ryder asking Kitty Pryde is big news for the interns and works. Vera Sweet is giving all the details of the fact (“He was pinning over her, it was so obvious” “True, do you think she likes him” “Duh”)

Meanwhile, the date is going alright. Kitty Pryde is an honest person and she won´t lie to him. “Look, I´m also dating a lunatic and the lunatic knows about you”

“Really? What´s the name of the lunatic?”

“You seem far too calm, but ok, is Nightcreeper”

“You like that lunatic?”

“Yes, but, I like you too…and Oh, I must sound confusing or selfish”

“No, not really, I´m Nightcreeper and I appreciate you like me no matter what”

After an explanation and apology, Kitty understands what happened. So, of course, she throws a glass of water on his face (“really? Why you didn´t tell me this before?!” “sorry, I thought you did knew”) the couple is now talking about future.

Bonus: “So, are you telling me, she never knew you and Nightcreeper were the same person?” Logan asked in one of the hottest bars in New Gotham.

“Nope”

“But…she knew right away I was Dark Claw”

“Logan, this is not a hard thing to discover”

#misfit au #kurtty #kurt ryder #kitty pryde #life is a comedy #captain washighton is sort Carol Danvers

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beanplague-moved · 6 years

Text

my @aphsecretsanta gift for @reyeslala! happy slightly belated holidays, i’m not sure I captured the best of them here—i have a kind of particular characterization of bela and i’ve never written spain extensively until this project, but i had a lot of fun. i kinda pictured him as a very fumbling romantic.

all that aside, i really hope you enjoy it! i tried to touch on all the prompts without being heavyhanded, and there’s unrequited lietbel in there for the sake of a sort of compare/contrast thing.

read it on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13198962

There’s some kid sitting at Natalya’s bus stop. She tries not to pay him any mind, but he’s just so happy. It’s incredibly distressing.

Natalya has been taking this same bus to work almost every day for the last five years or so, and she has never encountered this unfamiliar entity. He sits at the other end of the bench, humming contentedly—probably to some music playing over his headphones, it sounds far too cheery for Natalya’s taste—as he waits for the bus.

Natalya tries not to pay him any mind. He probably won’t be here tomorrow, anyway.

He’s there tomorrow. And the day after that.

He’s becoming quite the regular to public transport, and Natalya would usually assume that two or three days of taking the bus and likely the subway would chase away any semblance of joy related to the experience. Yet still, he keeps on smiling when sitting at the stop.

He waves at Natalya when she arrives at the stop today, and she raises her eyebrows at him.

She takes a good look at this kid. He’s relatively normal looking. He doesn’t seem to be a rampant serial killer, though Natalya isn’t known for her ability to read others.

(That might be evidenced by the fact that she believes one must be a serial killer to enjoy riding the bus, or wave to strangers.)

He isn’t bad looking—he’s kind of cute, in an objective sense. Natalya thinks he’s a bit too handsome for her taste. All her partners in the past have had pretty obvious flaws, which Natalya appreciated. This guy seems a bit too unreal for her. Sun-kissed skin and messy but not too messy hair. He’s like someone lifted directly from a magazine her sister might’ve read when they were younger.

He wears an apron, so Natalya assumes he’s heading to a workplace of some kind. Probably a Starbucks or something. He’s been wearing the same headphones since his first day at the bus stop.

Natalya figures he’s a new regular, and pays him no mind. If he wants to be disproportionately happy with public transportation, who is she to stop him?

He says, “hi!” when Natalya passes him on an early morning. It isn’t the best decision he could’ve made. Natalya has barely slept for the past few days.

There’s this meeting coming up, and Natalya’s boss—who she would usually describe as, “an American asshole who’s never known hardship a day in his life,” but for the sake of her sanity, she refers to as Mr. Jones—says she’s up for a promotion. So all this weekend she’s been preparing for this meeting, and she’s going to be preparing for it until the day it comes around, because like hell is she going to be here, riding the bus to work everyday, only so she can sit in a cubicle and file everyone else’s cases.

So yeah, she’s a bit on edge today, and she glares at the new bus regular. He looks confused—like he’s not sure what he’s done wrong, which, yeah, is to be expected—and then quickly tilts his head curiously at Natalya.

She keeps her chin up and ignores him. There’s no point in caring about how a stranger might perceive her. Hell, Natalya barely cares about how people she knows and talks to regularly perceive her.

Natalya looks like shit, and she realizes it as soon as she gets home and looks in the mirror. Her eyes are sunken and tired-looking. Her hair is a mess.

She has a face that was often described as delicate when she was younger. Fair-skinned and free of blemishes. Long, shining blonde hair and simple, thin features. Nowadays she does little to keep up that image. Fuck that, she’d rather be this than continue that reputation of some angelic, perfectly kept young lady.

It is better to be unbroken than it is to be fragile. It is better to be rough around the edges and clearly visible than it is to be blurry, hard to comprehend. And she’d do anything nowadays to prevent that softness from creeping into her.

Her hardness is an immunity to the outside world and its effects. If there is one chink in her armor, it flies by unnoticed, because the world can’t attack Natalya. No one can.

It’s best, that way.

That same guy who’s been riding her bus everyday stands up when Natalya approaches the stop, and honest to God, he bows.

He bows, and holds out a hand to her. Natalya raises an eyebrow. She’s almost entirely sure that they’re at a bus stop in Queens, not some kind of renaissance faire where it's commonly accepted that one bows to those they’ve wronged.

She should be clear, it’s not a full on bow. He doesn’t bend at the waist and declare his subservience. Nor does he fall to the knee at the sight of her. He simply lowers himself a bit and holds out a hand.

“I, uh,” He laughs, “I’m not really sure how I’m supposed to do this. I’m sorry?” He tries, and he keeps talking, “I said hi to you when you came to the stop the other day, but you kind of glared at me, and that got me thinking, is it not protocol to say hi to people here? And then I started overthinking and I wanted to apologize, if you’d let me.”

Natalya is a little bit shorter than him. She glances at his green apron to see that his name tag says Antonio C. She glances back up at his hopeful eyes, and denying his apology now would be kind of a cheap shot, like kicking a sick puppy or something.

She shrugs, “It doesn’t matter,” She says, “I’ve been having a bad week, you’re a stranger. Seemed an easy solution.” She speaks in the same level tone that she always does.

“Ah, okay,” He seems sort of relieved, still sort of confused, “thank you, miss…?”

“It doesn’t matter,” She repeats.

“Miss It Doesn’t Matter, then,” He smiles, and Natalya isn’t the best at reading people, but he sounds amused, “I’m looking forward to riding the same bus with you.”

“You shouldn't be.” She says, deadpan. “I’m not.”

It’s quiet from then on, but the silence is less confrontational. Maybe that’s an improvement.

At work, there’s this guy. He likes Natalya, and it’s all very sweet aside from the fact that she couldn’t be bothered to feign interest in him.

Toris is nice—far too nice, in Natalya’s opinion. One really should use discretion with those they are kind to—and he isn’t bad looking. Quite the opposite, but he isn’t Natalya’s type. Not even Natalya really knows what “Natalya’s type” is.

He stutters when he talks to her and smiles when he thinks of her, and it’s nice. It’s nice to be liked by someone, she can admit that much, but aside from the ego-boost, it does little for her. She avoids him, most of the time.

“Ms. Arlovskaya,” He refers to her, and he goes pink in the face when she looks at him, “I have some cases you should look over.”

“Toris,” She returns, and he hands her the files, and it’s over. Natalya thinks little of the interaction, because she thinks little of Toris.

Antonio thinks of Natalya as a friend, or so it seems. He smiles when he sees her and he exudes this warmth that just gets warmer when she’s nearby. She thinks, maybe, in a way, he might like her. More than other people do, anyway. It feels good, being liked by Antonio. It makes her question what “her type” might be.

“Miss It Doesn’t Matter,” Antonio greets her at the bus stop. It’s a Friday, today, and he’s been greeting her like this all week, “It’s nice to see you again.”

“Did you hear something?” She says to no one, “I swear, there’s something insignificant flying near my ears, making noises,” She pauses dramatically, and there’s this primal amusement that’s hard to suppress, “Oh, it’s just you.” She turns to Antonio.

“Very funny,” He smiles, and she thinks he means it. It’s kind of weird, how genuine he is. Natalya can’t imagine being so happy in public, but she is smiling a bit when she talks to him.

The non-confrontational silence is getting very friendly as of late, and Natalya thinks more about it. She’s been thinking a lot more about Antonio, lately.

Natalya’s sister wants to visit. Natalya’s boss wants her to do some overtime shifts. Natalya’s brother wants her to come home for the holidays. Natalya’s friends—if she had any—would probably want to steal her time if they could.

Natalya takes her boss’s offer. It’s the best decision, if she wants that promotion.

Antonio thinks Natalya looks very unhappy lately.

“You seem very independent. Are you a scorpio?” He asks, and Natalya raises an eyebrow. Their bus is late. “I’m an aquarius.”

“A virgo, actually.” She says, and she doubts he’d expect her to be superstitious. Still, she researches the signs, and so she asks, “I don’t see much of an aquarius in you.”

He looks surprised, and then a smile creeps onto his face and he scratches the back of his neck. “Well, you’d have to get to know me better.”

Natalya might like to get to know him better. Maybe.

It rains during her overtime shift, and it’s all very depressing, watching the rain hit the windows as it slowly gets darker, but she always packs an umbrella. She’ll be fine, if a little less motivated.

By the time she clocks out, it’s absolutely pouring outside. She catches the bus without a drop of rainwater on her. Her heavy utility umbrella is good for something, at least.

When she gets to her bus stop—the one she catches in the mornings and gets off at in the evening—she’s surprised to see Antonio there, shivering on the bench. He’s soaking wet.

He looks up at her, before smiling that stupid smile. “You might not believe it, but I didn’t actually know it was going to rain today.”

“I believe it.” Natalya says, holding her umbrella over her. It’s black, and it’s made for the rainiest of days. It kind of looks like she’s heading to a funeral, honestly.

He scratches the back of his neck and coughs, “I thought it’d be better to wait here so I could get dry before trying to walk back and get more, you know, soaked.”

“I see,” Natalya says, and that’s kind of the dumbest thing she’s ever heard. It’s cold out here. He’s certainly going to get a cold. “And how’s that working out?”

“Bad,” He’s still laughing. He’s so happy, all the time. It’s like it’s effortless for him, and Natalya has a lot of feelings geared towards that particular facet of his personality. They’re all very confusing emotions, most of the time.

(And when they aren’t confusing, they’re crystal clear. Envy and anger and frustration, but also a sort of hope that she’ll catch it from him one day.)

And Natalya analyzes the situation, and she’s completely dry save for her shoes, which are touching the wet pavement and are therefore getting wetter by the minute. Usually she’d hurry to her apartment to lessen the damage, but instead she contemplates her actions before handing him her umbrella.

“Pay it forward,” She says, and he looks up at her like she’s doing something very generous and very stupid. She agrees. “I’ll be fine.” He takes the umbrella silently, nodding at her.

She walks home in the pouring rain. It’s cold and annoying and she feels awful, but there’s something warm and unidentifiable in her chest that has grown slowly since she gave him the umbrella.

Whatever. She takes a hot shower and goes to bed in dry clothes. Sleep-wise, it’s one of the best nights she’s had in ages.

The morning greets Natalya with a particularly powerful case of the sniffles. Antonio greets her with the umbrella and a bouquet of flowers.

“I thought repayment might be in order,” He smiles, and there must be some dial inside of him that allows him to turn up the charm on a whim. Natalya certainly feels the effects of it. “Thank you, you did me a favor, Miss It Doesn’t Matter.”

“Natalya.” She says, and he tilts his head, “My name. It’s Natalya. You’ve been calling me by that nickname the whole time.”

“Natalya,” He says, testing the sounds in his mouth. “It suits you. I love it. Are you sick?”

A lot to take in there. Natalya focuses on the last one, “It’s only the sniffles, it’s fine.” She says, and he places the flowers and the umbrella on the bench.

“Can I take your hand? This works best if I get to hold your hand,” He says, and it’s kind of adorably kind that he asked, so Natalya says yes. He takes her hand, “You got sick on my behalf! I demand that I be able to right this past wrong, and take you out to lunch, if that’s okay.” He adds if that’s okay, and Natalya likes Antonio.

She likes that he makes her smile. She likes that silence with him is no longer confrontational. She likes that he respects her boundaries in every regard.

“Okay.” She says, and she doesn’t smile, but she hopes he can tell. He adds his number to his phone and saves himself as Antonio Fernandez Carriedo with a heart at the end.

She goes to the meeting and presents perfectly, and it’s boring as hell and it’s long as hell but at the end of it Mr. Jones announces that she’s due for a promotion, and Natalya takes that time to ask if she can get an extra hour added to her lunch.

Mr. Jones—Alfred, he tells her. He’d like it if she’d consider him a friend, but Natalya never could—is surprised. Natallya has never expressed a desire for added benefits, but he’s more than happy to give her this one. He tells her that, if she wants, she can be free for the day.

She texts Antonio to tell him she’s free for the rest of the day. He sends something back that is full of emojis and happy emoticons. He tells her to meet him at the bus stop.

She walks with little urgency, he arrives out of breath, like he ran to get there.

“I ran to get here,” He says, “I convinced my boss to let me out of there so I could hang out with a beautiful woman, and maybe get lunch.”

“You lied to your boss?” Natalya raises an eyebrow.

He grins, “Hardly.”

Lunch is nice, Antonio makes it better. Natalya isn’t in love with him or anything, but snow falls outside of the restaurant windows and Antonio makes a comment about the weather being all over the place lately and she wants to laugh even though it isn’t funny at all. He makes it funny, what with all his softness and all his happiness.

She thinks, in her heart of hearts, that she may have caught some of it.

#aph belarus #aph spain #spabela #hetalia

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iishipallthethings · 7 years

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Love and Fate Chapter 17

Story summary: Aurora reaches 21 summers and her council is demanding she seek a husband. Maleficent is looking for a mate and her beastie catches her eye. Her instincts tell her to take the beauty for her own but she fears that she would not be accepted by the one she cares for most. Meanwhile war brews between the Moors and human kingdoms. Gonna be dark start at 9(blood, war, the whole shabang)

Maleficent awoke to the sensation of lips kissing her neck softly. She released a soft groan and rolled over to her side, an arm and wing wrapping around the body next to her, pulling her closer. She felt lips now kissing her cheek and a warm hand playing with the gap where her robe parted on her chest. She squirmed as sleep began to leave her, groaning again when the warm hand left her robe.

Aurora leaned back as far as she could without causing a ripple effect in the hammock to look at handiwork. The fairy would open her eyes soon. Soon was not quick enough. She pressed her lips against the brunette's and heard her give a whimper. She pulled back and hummed when the fairy instinctively lifted her head to follow the lips.

Green eyes opened lazily and she saw her mate staring down at her with an unmistakable look in her eyes. She smiled and pulled her back down to kiss her deeply, her tongue granted access immediately without her asking. After a few seconds she broke the heated kiss, pleased when she heard slight panting from the younger woman. "What a lovely way to wake up," she commented as her fingers played with golden hair.

Aurora shrugged as Maleficent continued to play with her hair. She leaned down to brush their lips together. "I was just bored," she stated.

Maleficent frowned at the way her voice wavered a bit at the end. She looked closely at the blonde and saw a hint of dark circles under blue eyes. She tilted her head and cupped her mate's cheek, concerned with the way that Aurora leaned into the touch desperately, as if she had been starved of human contact for her entire life. "Beastie, what is wrong?"

"You haven't called me Beastie in a great while. I was starting to think that you no longer saw me as your little Beastie," she replied.

Maleficent's frown deepened, Aurora did not answer her question. She moved out from under the young queen so she could study her fully. Her cheeks were flushed but they were always like that after they kissed. She gazed into the blue eyes and saw the hidden pain in her depths. She shook her head with a sigh. "You will always be my little Beastie, I thought you knew that Aurora."

Aurora shrugged again and crawled over to Maleficent, concerned that the eyes she loved did not begin to glow red as they should. She fisted her hands into the fairy's robe and pulled her closer, trying to end their conversation with her lips. "Just shut up and love me," she whispered huskily.

Maleficent did not argue but she did not give into Aurora's request. She rolled them over so she was on top and trapped the blonde with her wings. She broke the kiss and gently pushed Aurora back down with her fingertips when she tried to lean up to recapture her lips. "Tell me what is wrong Aurora," she said.

"I hate this," Aurora whispered. She saw a flash of pain in the fairy's eyes and quickly shook her head. "No, I didn't mean," she trailed off, not sure in the first time of her life how to express her feelings. She looked down and bit her bottom lip in concentration. "I hate the fighting, the bloodshed. Too many people have died Maleficent and all because we fell in love." Tears came unbidden to her eyes and she angrily wiped them away.

Maleficent looked down sadly and sighed. "I know Aurora, but this will all be over soon." She sat up and pulled the blonde into a hug. She felt Aurora bury her head into her mahogany locks and hummed as she rubbed the queen's shuddering back. "You should not hide your pain in sex however. In the end the pain will return and along with it regret." She whispered, "I should know."

"I just want to forget the pain, if only for a few minutes." Aurora pulled away from the comforting embrace. "Please Maleficent, please make me forget," she pleaded.

Maleficent knew that they were treading on very thin ice but the look Aurora was giving her was heart wrenching. Instead of answering, she gently pushed Aurora down so her back was pressed against the hammock. She kissed her when a gasp came out of the blonde's mouth.

She tried to think that this was going to help Aurora as she felt desperate hands roughly pull at her robe until it fell away. She tried to convince herself that Aurora will feel better as she made the woman under her gasp and moan without restraint. She tried to believe that Aurora was not hiding behind ecstasy so she wouldn't have to deal with the fact that more blood needed to be shed as she felt fingers grab at her back and wings for support. But when she gazed at the slumbering form afterwards, she could not try to be blind to the pained whimpers and the quiet 'please' as the blonde battled another nightmare.

The two did not discuss their desperate lovemaking when Aurora finally got out of the hammock. As they dressed slowly, Aurora did not offer any comment on what her nightmare was about, not that either of them did not know. The fairy had heard the aunt's name stumbling out of her mate's lips. Maleficent opened her mouth occasionally but it shut without a word coming out. Aurora seemed to be distracted as she did not acknowledge the fairy whatsoever.

The quietness became too much for Maleficent. She walked over to Aurora, her back facing her as she gazed at the human kingdom in the distance. She wrapped her arms loosely around her waist and felt the blonde tense for but a moment. She looked over to the kingdom and then down. She breathed in her mate's scent for courage. "Please do not be distant Aurora."

"I cannot be distant even if I wanted to. We are still mates, are we not?"

It was true, Maleficent could feel the unease and hurt radiating from Aurora through their link. She shook her head and tried again. "That is not what I meant and you know it." Her voice softened as she kissed the younger woman's bare shoulder, glad that she did not pull away. "Please Aurora, speak to me."

Aurora turned around quickly much to the fairy's surprise. She stared into green eyes as she shook her head angrily. "I just want this entire thing to be over with! A-and I feel so useless, while you and everyone else goes off fighting I'm forced to hide and I-I'm just sick of it!"

Maleficent did not react to Aurora's outburst immediately. She slowly took a step closer and pulled her into a tight hug. She kissed the crown of her head as she whispered. "I know, I know. But we have to hide you, you must understand why." She felt more than heard the blonde nod. She grabbed the queen's chin and forced her to look at her eyes. "And don't you ever say you are useless. You are the only reason why I am still here today. You brought light back into my heart and led me off the dark path I was traveling on." She brushed her lips against Aurora's before continuing, "You give my life meaning and I cannot begin to comprehend a world worth living in without you. You are the queen of both the Moors and human kingdom and your people need you, I need you. That is why we hide you away, no one can bear the thought of you hurt."

"But if we just show my kingdom that Phillip and I are alive then we will expose the advisors for the traitors they are! The human army will fight for us, just like those soldiers here!" Aurora argued back.

"It is too dangerous," the retort was swift and given without any real thought. Maleficent shook her head and explained, "The advisors will do whatever it takes to make the humans believe that you and King Phillip are dead. If we simply bring you two to them, they will declare that I used some dark magic to make copies of you. We have to capture them first before we can bring either of you to the castle."

Aurora did not like the reasoning but she knew that it was sound. She reluctantly nodded and leaned into the fairy. She felt arms and wings circle around her, shielding her from the outside world. She sighed, she hated having to stay on the sidelines while everyone risked their lives.

They stayed in that position for a long time, their breathing the only noise that broke the silence. Maleficent was the first to break the embrace, she kissed the younger woman's lips before pulling away. "Come, we need to speak to the others about what we are going to do now," she said.

Aurora sighed but followed the other willingly. She did not want to face the harsh reality of more war but she also knew that the sooner they attacked, the sooner all the fighting will end.

When they reached the war room, everyone was already present. Diaval smiled sadly at the two and Aurora was shocked to see how tired he looked. Maleficent felt the surprise and whispered to her mate, "Balthazar and Diaval were close. When you were younger and he spent most of his days as a raven, Balthazar would give him berries occasionally. When I left him as a human for long periods of time, Balthazar would teach him his language."

Aurora nodded and walked over to the table. She ran her fingers through her hair, she did not want to deal with this now. She looked around the room with a small frown. "Where's Phillip?" she asked.

Tory was the one who answered. "He said he wasn't feeling well and wanted to be left alone." Aurora nodded to the answer.

Michael cleared his throat to catch her attention. "While you were uh gone, Roy and I were talking. We believe a surprise attack soon would be the best course of action. The kingdom will still be in a state of shock over their defeat and they will not have enough uh," he hesitated with a glance to Aurora, "replacements to efficiently guard the castle."

Aurora only nodded in agreement. "Do we have enough warriors to execute the plan?" she asked.

Diaval nodded. "Yes," he said, his voice hoarse, "we have about two hundred able warriors waiting for orders."

Maleficent shook her head. "That will not be enough. If we storm the castle, we must deal with peasants as well. We need the soldiers who gave their oath to protect us. Disguise them and have them take the human kingdom for us."

Roy grunted his disapproval. "Is that your plan? Have thirty of my men, some injured mind you, fight against more than one hundred of their own brothers. Yes, that plan will work exceedingly well." His words dripped with sarcasm and Maleficent had to contain herself lest she attack him.

Michael shook his head at his friend's display. He looked at Maleficent, "Ignore him, many of the men that died were his friends." He looked back at the map of the human kingdom and pointed to the market place. "Whoever we decide to send can hide here. The guards will be spread too thin that they won't even notice one hundred extra people doing nothing here."

Aurora nodded. "We'll need another attack happening at the same time though. We don't know if King John's army is still there."

"I can fly over and see if you wish Aurora," Diaval said.

Maleficent shook her head. "Don't be a fool," she said. "They catch one glimpse of a raven and they will shoot it down. Besides, it is too dangerous for me to turn you into a raven for a few days time. The magic I used to heal you could be unraveled if you transformed."

Diaval looked like he wanted to argue but he held his tongue.

Maleficent glanced at Aurora before cautiously stating, "We can have the pixies cause another distraction." She noticed how the blonde sucked in a breath and straightened her already rigid back. She continued, "They can still create a powerful wave even without Thistlewit," she whispered the name but it was heard by everyone nevertheless.

Aurora ran her fingers through her hair again. "They might be expecting another magical attack. We need something else, something we didn't use before."

Diaval looked up excitedly, his sadness momentarily forgotten. "The eaglesprites!" he exclaimed. "They're big and they can fly silently above the clouds! They'll be able to take out the archers before the groups on the ground attack. Without those pesky arrows, we'll take the kingdom easily!"

Roy raised an eyebrow. "Uh, can anyone tell me what an eaglesprite is?"

"They're basically giant grey creatures with a fish's tail for half of their body and some sort of insect for the other half. They have an eagle's beak and two arms to grab things," Aurora tried to explain what the eaglesprite was to the best of her ability but the three human men seemed to only get more confused. "They also have these long, thin tubes that look like their beard and hair, it's kinda cute," she added lamely.

"They are dangerous when provoked and extremely strong. That is all you need to know," Maleficent said.

They nodded in understanding and they thought about the battle strategy. Michael glanced at Maleficent. "We can also hide some of the tree men in the market place, they're human looking enough with a thick cloak. The guards will be confused as to why Moor and human are fighting alongside which will make it easier for us to take them down."

Roy added, "We have five archers as well. They can ride these eaglesprites," the word felt strange on his tongue, "and shoot at the guards who are controlling the Northern Gate. Once we take control of that, we can sneak in our army without incident, any other patrol will see the guards and believe they are on their side."

Tory looked at the general. "What about the other advisors?" he asked.

Michael pointed to the castle. "They'll be hiding in the council room, it is where they will give orders to the human army."

Aurora added, "There will probably be a few guards posted there but once we take the castle, they should surrender quickly."

Maleficent looked at Aurora. "I will take care of those bastards once we take control."

"Don't kill them," Aurora said seriously.

"No, they deserve to be exposed to everyone for the traitors they are. Afterwards they should be hung in public, not given a warrior's death," Maleficent replied.

Everyone agreed to the fairy's logic but Aurora did not say anything else on the subject. She sighed. "Okay, so we will take the Northern Gate with some of our eaglesprites and archers. The rest will fly onwards and take care of the archers stationed around the castle. Once that's done, we will quietly move the other fit soldiers and several tree men into the market place. They will wait there until Knotgrass and Flittle create some sort of wave to distract the guards," she swallowed the lump that suddenly formed in her throat. "While that is happening the ones stationed at the marketplace will charge at the castle. Without the reinforcements from above, the guards will be too confused to know what to do and surrender. And while all of that is happening I will be here being protected by Phillip and Tory" Aurora added bitterly. She looked at everyone before they could react to her last comment, "Who will be in charge of what division?"

Roy scratched at his beard with his wooden hand. "I may have one good arm but I can ride that eaglesprite. I'm curious what they look like anyways. No offense," he added with a shrug to Aurora.

Michael volunteered to be in charge of the division hiding in the market place.

Aurora looked at Maleficent. "And you?" she asked, already guessing the answer.

"I will be with the eaglesprites taking out the archers stationed around the castle. And afterwards I will ensure that the advisors are taken possession of personally." She could feel Aurora's displeasure through their link but did not comment on it. She wanted to see the advisors before her mate and perhaps beat Marcus to a bloody pulp for all the trouble he caused.

Tory looked between the two women before clearing his throat. "After the human kingdom is under Moor control I think it will be beneficial if Queen Aurora, along with King Phillip and I, go to the castle. If the people see us, then they will know that the advisors were lying to them and thus be on our side." He saw Maleficent looking like she might protest and quickly added, "We can even have an escort to protect us from any unforeseeable harm."

"Knotgrass and Flittle," Aurora said with a sad smile. "They will not physically be a part of the invasion, they can stay at the Northern Gate hidden with the three of us. Once everything is said and done, you can give us a signal and they can escort us through the kingdom."

"How do we know they will have enough power after creating a second wave to be able to protect you if need be?" Maleficent knew that desperation leaked into her words but she did not care. She simply couldn't allow Aurora to go into the battlefield once more, she couldn't risk it.

Aurora frowned and glared at the fairy. "I am not a child and I can more than handle myself in a fight if they are too weak. You know that I can."

Maleficent's eyes narrowed. Yes, she knew exactly what Aurora could do if cornered, but that was a problem. She had no quarrel having blood spilled by her hands if it meant protecting the Moors or her mate. But Aurora, she was far too pure to have her hands bloodied more than they already were. She had no doubt that the fighting was changing her, but she could not allow it to change Aurora too. She opened her mouth to tell her that but she didn't get the chance.

"We are stronger than you think Maleficent," Knotgrass said as she flew into the room with Flittle close behind. She turned in a mini red windstorm that only affected her and a second later she stood in her human form. Flittle did the same and she looked anywhere but directly at anyone's eyes.

Both women looked like they have been through Hell and back. They had dark circles under their eyes and, they had not slept the night before. In human form, their clothes were saggy as if hastily thrown on and their hair was unkempt, looking as wild as Thistlewit's was.

"We have enough energy to create a tsunami made of fire and protect Aurora," Flittle said with Knotgrass nodding in agreement. She could only manage a strangled whisper, her throat was too sore to speak any louder.

Maleficent still shook her head. "No, you two cannot be trusted to fight after dealing with Thistlewit's death so soon."

"We can say the same for Balthazar's," Knotgrass retorted but her usual venom was missing. She glanced back and saw Flittle's shoulders shudder once as bloodshot eyes left the ground to look at the fairy before gazing at the floor once more.

Maleficent bristled, her wings rising an inch from the ground. "Do not pretend to know my affairs pixie," she spat.

"And don't you pretend to know ours overgrown pixie," Knotgrass shot back, her ire showing in her red face.

"Alright enough! Both of you!" Aurora yelled as she physically got between them, her arms held up in case they actually began a fight which looked like they were seconds away from. She glared at her lover and her aunt. "All of us are in pain and fighting amongst ourselves will not change anything! We need to stop the advisors from causing any more destruction than they already have! So will both of you please calm down and listen!" Aurora was breathless after her shouting but she still looked at Maleficent and Knotgrass as if daring one of them to continue their childish shouting-match.

Knotgrass was the first to deflate, she released a deep breath and nodded. "You're right, fighting will get us nowhere." Maleficent only nodded and the tips of her wings were once again resting on the ground.

Aurora smiled but it lacked humor, "Good!" She turned to her aunties and began to explain their plan of surprise attack. They did not like the idea of bringing Aurora, Tory, and Phillip into the human kingdom right after they conquer it and were quick to voice their objections. "It is the easiest way. If the commoners see that I and everyone else are alive then they will not have any reason to attack the Moor army. Even the human army will be less inclined to revolt if they know that the advisors were lying to them."

Knotgrass and Flittle shared a glance that held their reluctant agreement. They both nodded and Flittle pulled Aurora into a surprise hug. "We are so proud of you and we swear that we will do everything to make sure that you are safe." A sob escaped her throat. "We can't lose anyone else."

Misty eyed, Aurora returned the hug and stepped back. She looked at everyone in the war room and saw the determination in their eyes. "Today we shall prepare for the final battle. Once night has fallen, we will head to the human kingdom and at dawn we shall attack. We will show the human kingdom that we are not some kitten who had their claws taken away and their fangs filed, but a fearsome lion. We will show them that they have not only poked the lion but hit it with a rock. And we will retaliate with a vengeance worthy of the dragons of old! When the sun rises in a day's time we will conquer the human kingdom and release the citizens from the advisors' poisonous grip!"

All around her cheers erupted. Roy and Michael bellowed and looked as if they could not wait to prove themselves in battle once more. Diaval and Tory were hollering as if children playing with swords for the first time and not young men. Maleficent kept silent but her even without looking at her eyes, their link betrayed her excitement for battle. Knotgrass and Flittle were reluctant to join in the uproar but soon they were grinning viciously, eager to make the humans pay for taking away Thistlewit from them.

Aurora watched them and felt a stirring of sadness in the pit of her stomach. War was changing them into people she did not recognize and this frightened her. She could only pray that the fighting will end soon enough that they can become the people she knew and loved. She acted excited as well and walked quietly past her aunts whom she used to believe could not hurt a single fly. She now knew that they could crush one hundred men with a simply flick of their hands. She also pretended not to see the green eyes looking at her curiously as she walked out of the war room to be alone with her thoughts.

#malora #maleficent #aurora #surprise im back #loveandfate

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dragonasheswrites-blog · 7 years

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Operation: Sansta Claus

Their first Christmas after the barrier was broken, Sans and Papyrus embark on a very important mission.

Let's just say...a certain holly jolly spreader of gifts and good cheer is withholding information.

What could go wrong?

Click here to read on Archive of Our Own, or read more below the cut.

Sans wedged himself further behind the display of large stuffed bears on Aisle 13. That had been way too close.

He heard a crackle. “Come in! Agent Lazybones, come in!”

Sans fumbled with his walkie-talkie. “Agent Lazybones here. What’s your status, Agent Spaghetti?”

“Looking good from here. I thought I saw someone chasing you and was worried.”

“Yeah, someone tried to jump my bones. I’m okay, though. The lady who had a bone to pick with me seems to have wandered off.”

He could hear Papyrus’s heavy breathing through the cheap walkie-talkie speaker. “Agent Lazybones. If you are not going to take this seriously, I will ask Fr...I mean, Agent Fartmaster, to help me.”

“Nah, I’m done for now, Agent Spaghetti.”

“Good. Now. Where are you?”

“Uh...Aisle 13.”

“Which one is that?”

“Huge teddy bears.”

“AHA! I mean…‘aha.’ I see you. You aren’t very well-hidden.”

Sans wiggled further behind a bear almost as big as he was. “That better?”

Before Papyrus could respond, a pair of human boys ran by. They couldn’t have been older than eight or nine and had the same brown, curly hair.

They stared at him.

“Mommy! Mommy! I want the Christmas skeleton!” one shouted, running back down the aisle. The other just stared at Sans, his face slack and eyes wide.

Sans gave a little wave, and the boy gave a little wave back. A smile creeped over the boy’s face. Slowly, Sans brought a finger to his mouth in the universal signal for silence.

The boy nodded, a determined look on his face. He marched back down the aisle, presumably to head off his brother.

“Agent Spaghetti, my position has been compromised! Requesting plan of action!”

He heard a shuffle as Papyrus shifted. “I thought you were going to stay hidden! Oh, never mind. There’s a stack of presents over on Aisle 16. That should be to your...right? No, other right. Yes, that’s the right direction...oh! Hide behind the robot display! Quick!”

Sans ducked behind the robots, grabbing his Santa hat that threatened to fall off his skull. “What’s going on?” he whispered into the walkie-talkie.

“The small humans who spotted you are looking for you again. You need to get farther away! But...not now. They’re right next to-”

Sans turned the volume off. He could hear the boys yelling enthusiastically, and a tired woman’s voice trying to corral their enthusiasm. The noise slowly faded into the background hum of the department store.

“Agent Lazybones back. Are they gone?”

“Yes, their mother appears to have captured them and is heading in the direction of the checkout. You have another small human on your aisle, but she appears to be headed away from you. Give...it...a...moment...ah! There we go! The coast is clear. Keep heading towards Aisle 16.”

Sans made it to Aisle 16 without too much trouble and ducked behind the pile of - presumably fake - presents. He tapped his phalanges on one and it sounded hollow. “Okay, I’m there. Where’s the target?”

“Ahead of you and to your left. The Jolly Man is nowhere in sight yet; you should be clear. Wait, wait; someone’s walking by...yes! There! Go for it!”

Sans turned off the walkie-talkie and clipped it to his belt. With another quick look just in case Papyrus had missed something from his vantage point, Sans dashed across the open floor towards his target.

Near Aisle 16 was an open space that the department store used for seasonal displays and public events. On this particular day the space had been cordoned off with faux red velvet ropes to form a waiting queue. At the end of the queue was a chair, draped in red and white and currently empty. A sign in front read:

PICTURES WITH SANTA!

That wasn’t Sans’s target. He was more interested in the large sack of presents behind the chair. Each present - wrapped in shiny paper and bedecked with bright ribbons and bows - had a tag. On each tag was a name.

On one of those tags, the name read, “Papyrus.”

That was his target.

Sans made it to the Santa picture area, ducked under the rope in a smooth motion, and skidded to a stop in front of the sack. It was huge, bigger than Sans himself. Many of the presents were small - he shuffled those to the side - but there were a few tantalizingly large ones further down that he could feel. He climbed up on a plastic reindeer nearby for better leverage and cursed his short arms. He...could...almost...reach…

“Sans?”

“OOMPH!” Sans lost his balance and fell into the sack. After a few moments of shuffling, he managed to reorient himself. “Heya, kid.” A quick glance over Frisk’s shoulder made his face flush a little. “Heya, Tori.”

“Sans,” Tori said, looking torn between disapproval and amusement.

“What are you doing?” Frisk asked, tilting her head to the side.

“Well, y’see…” He shifted, and one of the presents pressed against the volume knob on the walkie-talkie.

“AGENT LAZYBONES! ABORT MISSION! I REPEAT, ABORT MISSION! YOUR POSITION HAS BEEN COMPROMISED!”

Sans deliberately ignored Tori, who was doubled over and holding a nearby shelf for support. “Papyrus wanted to know what he was gettin’ for Christmas.”

Frisk narrowed her eyes at him. “So...you dressed up in a Santa suit and decided to sneak around the store where Dad is going to be playing Santa?”

“Shhhh, kid!” He checked that his walkie-talkie wasn’t transmitting. It wasn’t. He turned the volume back down. “Paps...doesn’t know about that.”

“Papyrus still believes in Santa?” Sans narrowed his eyes at the incredulity in the kid’s voice. She shrugged in response, though, so he didn’t push. “But...then, who buys his Christmas gifts? Or Gyftmas gifts, I guess.”

In the background, Tori - who had nearly made is upright - broke into another fit of giggles.

“N-never mind, kid. Say, wanna give me a hand?”

“Can’t. There’s a rope in the way.” Frisk patted the silky rope with both hands. “There’s even a sign that says “Do not cross.”

“Huh. Well…” Sans wiggled and shuffled. Almost...there...

He fell out of the sack, along with half the presents. Thankfully, most of them fell on top of him, so the damage to the gifts was...minimal.

Laughing, Frisk helped him collect the errant packages and rearrange them back into the bag. As he reached for the last one, she pulled it away from him slightly. She waved wildly at the tag.

To: Papyrus

From: Santa

“Thanks, kid,” Sans said, tossing it lightly on top of the rest of the presents in the sack. He ducked back under the rope.

“Wait...you’re not going to peek? You’re not even going to shake it a little?”

“Nah.” He was blushing again, he knew it.

They made their way over to Tori, who had calmed herself down a little. “Y-you mean,” she said, still huffing, “Do you mean to tell me that you dressed up, distracted everyone, and staged a massive multi-departmental operation...to look for a present that you bought yourself and asked Asgore to use as a prop for the photo shoot?”

“It was a lot easier Underground,” Sans grumbled.

“And where is your brother?”

He pointed up. Perched atop one of the department store’s support beams was a tall, lanky skeleton, waving down at them. His battle body had been replaced with a pair of red and white striped pyjamas and a Santa hat for the occasion. (Sans hadn’t been able to find or make a Santa suit in Papyrus’s size on such short notice. They’d be better prepared next year.)

“O-oh dear,” Tori gasped. “Shouldn’t we...get him down? That does not look very comfortable.”

Sans turned the walkie-talkie back on. “Agent Spaghetti, do you want to get down?”

“DO NOT LEAVE ME IN SUSPENSE, AGENT LAZYBONES! DID YOU Fiii...I mean, DID YOU ACCOMPLISH YOUR MISSION?”

“Kinda. I can give you some hints. Didn’t get a very good look at it, though. A Frisk-y kid here interrupted me.”

“AARGH! And we were so close! No matter; next year we will have a BETTER PLAN!”

“Sounds good. Hey, head back to the corner of the store by the tires, ‘kay? I’ll be right over to lift you down.”

“RIGHT AWAY, BROTHER!” And he was off, parkouring across the support beams.

Sans turned to Tori, who had finally regained her breath. “Welp, I’d better go help him down. Are you two gonna wait here for the big guy?”

Tori smiled. “I believe so. Frisk may not believe in Santa Claus, but she wanted to get a picture with her father in-costume. Will you two join us?”

“Nah, I think we’d better get out of here. I think a few of the store folks have a bone to pick with me. We’d better let things cool off around here.”

“Icy your point.”

“Heh, good one! Well, I’m off. Have a good time!”

“We shall. You both will be joining us for hot cocoa this evening, will you not?”

“Sure thing, Tori. See you then! See ya, Friskles.” He ruffled Frisk’s hair, ignoring the kid’s pout that looked more like a smile.

“Good bye...Agent Lazybones.”

Sans pulled his Santa hat further over his face and walked away a little quicker. He was never going to live this down.

The look on Papyrus’s face when Sans described his gift was completely worth it.

#Dragonashes writes #Undertale #Oneshot #Sans #Papyrus #Toriel #Frisk #Sans dresses up as Santa #Papyrus still believes in Santa #This was originally posted on Christmas Day over on AO3 #Wacky skeletons

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darcyfitz · 7 years

Text

Hi Friends, and The Science of Love readers

Wow...I don't even know where to begin this. As many of you might know, I suffered a serious health blow 18 months ago when a pulmonary embolism was discovered in my right lung. It has been a slow, painful process to get back to normal, and I've never felt quite 'right' since. I had extensive Hematology blood testing to determine what caused my clot, and they determined it was due to birth control pills. I took blood thinners for seven months, and was considered clear for the clot. A few months ago, symptoms began again that puzzled me, which is why it took me so long to complete Chapter 41 of the story. I was tired, drained, and in pain for most of the time. I even started physical therapy trying to 'bounce back'. Last weekend, I began to experience awful pain in my left leg calf muscle. I spent the entire weekend in bed, thinking it was muscle strain. Monday morning as I was dressing for work, I nearly passed out. My oxygen level was only 89, and I knew something was very wrong. ER diagnosed a DVT blood in that leg behind my knee, as well as a Saddle PE embolism wrapped around my pulmonary artery and covering both lungs. This kind of clot is most dangerous, as it causes sudden death in 15% of it's victims. I am once again baffled, stunned, scared, and fearing for the future. I will be on disability for a while as I recover, and will spend that time resting and working on the final chapter of the story as best I can. I wanted to share something with you while you wait, so you have something to look forward to until the story is over. I included a song playlist in Chapter 42, but if you'd like to see it now, you can get an idea of what I was aiming for when I wrote this story. For those of you who have told me you've gone back/are going back to reread, this should be a treat for you.

Though each song is special to me and chapter-centric, Chapter 1’s song really captures the essence of The Science of Love, as viewed through Sheldon’s eyes. All of his life, he had fancied himself better than everyone. After his breakdown, he realized that it was all a show; a way to protect himself and keep him separate from what he feared. He wasn’t the perfect dynamo he assumed he was. He had flaws, and LOTS of them. His fear was that others would see those flaws, and judge him. There are certain lines in the song which fit him so perfectly, that it’s scary. He had hit his rock bottom, much like Season 7x24, except here he’s really hit the ground hard. Whether or not he realized it, he was about to begin the long journey back home. To a better home, and with an unexpected gift: Meeting Amy. It truly sets the tone for the whole story, so listen to the lyrics and you’ll see how far he comes from Chapter 1 to Chapter 42. All songs are available on Youtube for your listening enjoyment.

Chapter 1: Take the Long Way Home – Supertramp

Chapter 2: Come Out Wherever You Are – Paul Cook & the Chronicles

Chapter 3: Trouble – Coldplay

Chapter 4: Au Revoir – One Republic

Chapter 5: Burning Bridges – One Republic

Chapter 6: Feel – Robbie Williams

Chapter 7: On Fire - Switchfoot

Chapter 8: Heart’s a Mess – Gotye

Chapter 9: The Story of My Life – Neil Diamond

Chapter 10: Worn – Tenth Avenue North

Chapter 11: Iris – The Goo Goo Dolls

Chapter 12: Tunnel of Love – Bruce Springsteen

Chapter 13: If This Isn’t Love – Jennifer Hudson

Chapter 14: Won’t Stop – One Republic

Chapter 15: Jesus to a Child – George Michael

Chapter 16: Play Me – Neil Diamond

Chapter 17: Fire and the Flood – Vance Joy

Chapter 18: I Love You – Climax Blues Band

Chapter 19: The Ghost In You – The Psychedelic Furs

Chapter 20: Girl Can’t Help It – Journey

Chapter 21: Heartbreak Warfare – John Mayer

Chapter 22: Uninvited – Alanis Morrisette

Chapter 23: I Feel It – Avid Dancer

Chapter 24: Fire Meet Gasoline - Sia

Chapter 25: I’ll Stand by You – The Pretenders

Chapter 26: The Woman in Me – Heart

Chapter 27: Teenage Dream – Katy Perry

Chapter 28: Going Thru the Motions – Kristen Kontrol

Chapter 29: I Need You Now – Agnes Carlsson (slow version)

Chapter 30: Everything I do (I do it for you) – Bryan Adams

Chapter 31: Lucky Man – The Verve

Chapter 32: Honey – Magic Man

Chapter 33: Show Me Heaven – Maria McKee

Chapter 34: The Air That I Breath – The Hollies

Chapter 35: To Build a Home – The Cinematic Orchestra

Chapter 36: Letters from the Sky - Civil Twilight

Chapter 37: Little Earthquakes – Tori Amos

Chapter 38: Running up that Hill – Kate Bush

Chapter 39: A New Day Has Come – Celine Dion

Chapter 40: Marry Me – Train

Chapter 41: Amanda – Boston

Chapter 42: Madness – Alanis Morrisette

Thank you for being there for me, encouraging me, and enjoying my story. It's meant the world to me. Love, Jo xxx

#shamy #Sheldon Cooper #amy farrah fowler #Jim Parsons #mayim bialik #shamy fanfic #shamy fandom #tbbt fandom #tbbt fanfic #the science of love #personal

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