when his face telegraphs the pun before it happens

Ina Kingsley x MC: Receiving Gifts

This is the longest one yet 😳 but I've been wanting to put it out for a while so here it is 😁

Tags: @nydeiri @thepotatobleh

•••

"What, you think I forgot?"

Rarely was Ina Kingsley appreciative of her status as 'Professor Dreamy'. This was one of those times.

Thank god that these Belvoire brats were rich kids. That meant, at this time of year, all the starry-eyed students harboring crushes on her would pull out all the stops for the perfect Christmas gift.

Ina was currently munching on a To'ak chocolate bar. Which, she didn't know what the hell was until Chloe St. James told her it was the most expensive chocolate in the world as she presented it to her. Definitely not worth two hundred dollars in Ina's opinion, but she wasn't about to complain. The benefits of being deemed the hottest professor on campus were far and few between, so Ina was going to take all the dubs thrown her way.

One of those dubs being the Golden Ticket candy bar sitting in a gift bag under her desk. Was it really that well-known that Ina had a weakness for sweets?

A knock on Ina's door made her start, and she scrambled to stow away the overpriced chocolate. "Uh, c-come in!" She called, checking her watch. Only one person ever came into her office at this hour.

"H-hey, Professor K-Kingsley," Aliyah greeted her as she stepped into the office. The first thing Ina noticed was how she was shivering so hard that she might as well have been trying to escape her own skin.

"Aliyah!" Ina stood up and quickly made her way over, "Christ, you know it's in the negatives outside, right?" She cupped the side of Aliyah's neck before she even knew what she was doing, and winced at the biting cold she was met with.

"I d-do now," Aliyah said, tone drier than her lips. She didn't even have the energy to react to Ina's warm skin against her neck, partly because she could barely feel anything. She started to shed her coat, but Ina stopped her.

"Leave that on for now, else you'll be the next boy in the iceberg," she said.

Aliyah's jaw dropped. "Ina K-Kingsley, was that an Avatar reference I just heard?!" She practically screeched as Ina led her to the fireplace by the armchairs. Damn, were all the professor offices pimped out like this? This woman wasn't even tenured.

Ina gave her a small smile. "My geekier side tends to come out when I'm in a good mood," she replied.

Aliyah smiled right back as she plopped down in an armchair, and started to brush snow off her nose. "Uh oh, Christmas fever?" She suggested.

"You could say that," Ina gestured behind her to her desk. Aliyah could see gifts overflowing from beneath Ina's desk, where she'd probably hidden them for the sake of good sportsmanship with the other professors.

The younger woman's smile faltered a bit as she glanced down at her backpack. "Shit," she muttered under her breath. She'd forgotten that she'd be faced with so much competition around Belvoire.

"Aliyah?" Ina asked softly. Aliyah's head snapped up.

"Yeah, sorry," she said as she started reaching into her backpack, and then pulled out two thermoses. She'd start small. But apparently not too small, as a grin practically burst onto Ina's face when she realized what she was holding out. "Merry Christmas?" Aliyah asked, smile sheepish.

"You're the most wonderful person I've ever met," Ina said as she took a mug gingerly from Aliyah. And her tone was joking, but Aliyah still felt her face grow hot (which was honestly a welcomed feeling, seeing as she was a literal ice cube at the moment). This was supposed to be the part where Ina went 'what I meant was…' but it never came.

"Oh god," Ina groaned as she took a sip, "Now I know what heaven tastes like."

Aliyah couldn't help but laugh. It was almost ridiculous how good of a mood this woman was in. "What, the thousand dollar chocolates and pearl necklaces don't do it for you?" She asked. Please say no, she thought.

"It was two hundred dollar chocolate, mind you," Ina pointed out with a smirk. Aliyah jerked back in that sarcastic 'my bad' gesture. "And not to say that I'm ungrateful for them, they just… don't possess the same level of sincerity."

"'Cause they bought it with daddy's money?" Aliyah asked.

Ina nodded, and Aliyah relaxed. "Because they bought it with daddy's money," she confirmed, and the two women shared a laugh as they drank Aliyah's (patented) red velvet hot chocolate. "I'm surprised you haven't left for the holidays yet. Almost nobody is in school these last couple of days," Ina quipped.

"Well, there's not exactly anyone for Leon and me to visit," Aliyah replied offhandedly, not realizing how morbid that sounded to Ina, who frowned. "What about you, Professor 'Anthropology is the love of my life'? You gonna leave this office any time soon?" She asked.

Ina blushed profusely. "Am I really that bad?"

"You're horrible, honestly," Aliyah said, even though her grin translated into 'you're wonderful, and I have the fattest crush on you'.

"I myself am not traveling, but my sister and my niece are coming up from Boston for the break," she said with a wistful smile. Charlotte was going to go insane when she saw her Christmas present.

Wait a minute… present.

Shit!

Ina started in her seat, lurching towards her desk. Then she paused. Aliyah shot her the most confused look Ina had ever seen. "Now would really not be a good time to have a seizure Ina, I'm tired," she said. Ina refused the urge to roll her eyes as she looked at her desk.

Had she brought Aliyah's present? Yes, of course, she'd been keeping it in her desk so she wouldn't forget.

…Should she give it to her right now and send her on her merry way home? (pun intended)

Selfless Ina said yes, she had a little brother and some good friends to spend time with. Selfish Ina said no, keep her here as long as you can. Neutral Ina decided to listen to Selfish Ina for once.

Ina cleared her throat as she settled back in her seat, "Sorry about that." Aliyah's brows bounced up in that unconvinced manner as she took a sip of Heaven's Hot Chocolate.

"So, what all did the student body pour on top of you in gifts?" Aliyah asked. She'd heard murmurs around campus of ideas from other students. She wondered if that one guy had actually followed through on buying Ina lingerie…

Ina tapped her chin in thought. "Plenty of chocolate, some jewelry, perfumes, gift cards," her face twisted oddly, and Aliyah was laughing before she'd even said it, "One student got me some… ahem… bedroom wear."

Aliyah was wheezing like a deflating balloon as she slapped her knee. "You can say lingerie, Ina," she managed to say. It's not like I haven't seen yours before.

"I wouldn't go so far as to call it lingerie," Ina replied, before stalking over to her desk and pulling a bag out from underneath. Aliyah started wheezing again when Ina held up some kind of abomination to her. "If I was any less compassionate, I would've thrown it back in his face," Ina said.

For God's sake, the thing was yellow and green. It looked like something that would be sold at Babies R Us, but someone took it and then tried to make it sexy. Ina was holding it gingerly by the hems, like just touching it was messing up her sexual mojo.

"Oh my god, put it away, put it away," Aliyah flapped her hand towards her. Ina laughed as she did just that. "Jesus, did he think he'd come back to school after break to see you wearing it just for him?" She asked.

Ina smiled in good nature. "Well, it's not like he could have known I favor warmer colors," she quipped.

Aliyah smirked under her thermos. "Actually, purple's considered a cool color," she replied. Ina shot her a challenging look from her desk, and Aliyah was surprised to see it lacked the typical sternness of Professor Kingsley. Her brow was arched sharply, and Aliyah swore she could see a hint of a smile playing on her lips…

…Wait, was she playing coy with her?!

"Anyway, you need to try this chocolate Chloe St. James got," Ina said as she sauntered back over, packet of To'ak in hand.

Cheap instincts kicking in, Aliyah leaned away from the forsaken bar. "I swear, I'll deserve to go to hell if I ever eat some two-hundred dollar chocolate," she said.

Ina rolled her eyes as she set a square piece down in front of Aliyah. The younger woman would have gagged if it didn't… you know, actually look pretty good. "You've accumulated enough blessings in your life to deserve a piece of overpriced chocolate, Ali," Ina said.

'Aliyah' was the only term of acknowledgement Aliyah had ever heard from Ina, and so her head snapped up when she stopped one syllable short. She really was feeling loose.

Aliyah picked the chocolate square up off the table, appraising it suspiciously. "If I have to see the devil when I bite the dust, I'm blaming it on you," she said, before popping the piece in her mouth.

Ina leaned forward, waiting impatiently for an explosive reaction. Instead, she was met with the most unimpressed side-eye God could have made possible on anyone's face.

"Wow," Aliyah drawled, "It tastes like chocolate."

"Hard to impress as ever, hm?" Ina asked. Aliyah shook her head as she gulped the piece down.

She wasn't about to admit it, but that definitely was the best chocolate she'd ever had in her short life. By a mile. "I'm actually embarrassingly easy to impress," she admitted, "It's just that overpriced chocolate isn't the right angle."

Ina tapped her chin in thought, narrowing her eyes as she scrutinized the woman before her. A smile slowly creeped onto her face. "Let me guess. A fast food restaurant date where you don't have to pay?" She suggested.

If that had come from anyone else, Aliyah might have actually been annoyed. But since it came from Ina, she threw her head back and laughed. "Well… are you offering?" She asked.

"Would that be a satisfactory Christmas present?" Ina countered.

Aliyah hummed contemplatively, while the little devil on her shoulder screeched 'hell yes!' Hell, Ina could offer to take her dumpster diving, and she'd say yes. "I mean, it'd be rude of me to say no to such a generous present…"

Ina chuckled as she rose from her armchair and started for her desk. Aliyah's gaze followed her curiously. "I'll keep that in mind for another time, then," she replied, "But for now, I'm hoping this will do."

When she made her way back over, she was holding a small gift bag out to Aliyah. Aliyah stared at it, wide-eyed. "You didn't," she said. Ina laughed a little nervously.

"Except I did," she replied, "Merry Christmas, Ali."

With the most cautious touch, Aliyah took the gift. To be honest, she'd gotten into a habit of forgetting that you were supposed to receive gifts as well as you give them during Christmas.

A grin slowly broke out onto her face, that mischievous one that made Ina anxious but also… other less than appropriate things. Aliyah shed her coat before unzipping her backpack, and pulling out a rather clumsily wrapped rectangular package. "Do not make fun of the wrapping," she said sternly.

Ina laughed as she took the gift graciously, "You really didn't have to."

"Except I did," Aliyah replied with a smirk, "Merry Christmas, Ina." She looked back down at the gift bag, shaking it slightly. "Open at the same time?"

"Sure."

"1… 2… 3," Aliyah popped the bag open while Ina tore away the wrapping (Aliyah didn't totally know why, but that made her kinda upset… she'd spent, like, an hour trying to wrap that thing). Aliyah's jaw dropped first, and then she laughed as she pulled the first thing out. "You weren't kidding about getting me a mug," she said as she held the '#1 TA' coffee mug up to the light.

"Of course I wasn't," Ina replied as she tossed the wrapping she'd pulled off on the coffee table. Her eyes promptly widened as she stared down at the half-visible gift.

Aliyah peered up at her nervously. She wasn't sure if that expression was one of positive or negative awe. "Ina…?" She asked carefully.

Ina breathed out a laugh as she pulled the rest of the wrapping off, and held the book tightly. "I can't believe you did this," Ina said, grinning. She held up the copy of The Tailend of Humanity (some old book that mashed sci-fi with anthropology; right up Ina’s alley) with a near reverent gaze.

"What, you think I forgot?" Aliyah replied with a cocky smirk. Chloe St. James and her overpriced chocolate could kiss. Her. Ass. 'Cause Aliyah had never seen Ina smile so wide.

"How did you even get a hold of this?" Ina asked, "There are only twenty copies!"

"Uh, I got one of them, duh," Aliyah replied, "Had to haggle with some guy down on Sixth for a few hours, but it was worth it. Plus, he had a signature in there." Aliyah gestured to the inside of the book cover. Ina had never flipped a book open so fast.

Yep. That was the author's name alright, written in his unmistakable cursive hand. "You really remembered my whole lamentful spiel about losing this book?" Ina asked.

"Well, that spiel included your apartment burning down," Aliyah replied pointedly, "I wasn't exactly gonna forget that." Ina shot her an amused smirk, and Aliyah gave her a wink. "Sooo… is it better than the green and yellow lingerie?"

Ina threw her head back and laughed, before setting the leather-bound book on the coffee table and sitting down next to Aliyah. "That has to be one of the best gifts I've gotten in the past years," she said. Fireworks set off in Aliyah's head. She was honestly winning so hard.

Ina gestured to the gift bag at Aliyah's feet. "There's one more thing in there that I think you'll appreciate," she quipped.

Would she though…? The doubtful persona in her head asked, I mean, you're definitely gonna look like the materialistic one here. Ina told that particular facet of herself to shut the hell up before she could get too far in her own head.

Aliyah raised a brow suspiciously as she picked the bag back up, and it did indeed still have a little bit of weight. "Two presents? You're spoiling me," she said.

"You deserve to be," Ina replied fearlessly. Aliyah's face flushed red as she turned her gaze back to the bag.

Slowly, as if she thought she was taking out the wrong gift, Aliyah pulled out a long, thin jewelry case. The younger woman looked up at Ina with a wide, doe-eyed gaze. "Ina, what is this?" She asked, bewildered.

"Open it," Ina urged her in reply. And Aliyah did exactly that, and holy shit, that was a nice necklace. She actually gasped, and would've been embarrassed for it (and Ina also would've teased her to no end) if she wasn't so busy marveling at the piece.

Aliyah lifted the silver chain out of the case and let it spill into her hands. Jesus Christ, did it look expensive. Ina had gone from Aliyah's chemistry-fired infatuation to her damn near sugar mama in a New York second.

A flicker of recognition passed over Aliyah's face the longer she marveled at it. Her head snapped up and she looked at Ina. "This looks…"

"An awful lot like the necklace you had that Bea Hughes snapped?" Ina suggested, "Well, I didn't remember exactly what it looked like, but I tried to get as close as possible." For a moment, Aliyah couldn't even remember her propriety and say thank you.

Bea goddamn Hughes had some nerve. Aliyah couldn't quite recall what had been said, but she more than vividly remembered Hughes reaching up and snatching the chain clean off of her neck. She was nearly impressed.

But then she also vividly remembered giving that girl a black eye, and threatening to knock her out so hard her soul flew back to Farmsville. Ina had stopped her before she could uphold that promise.

"Here, let me," Ina shifted behind Aliyah, holding her hand out for the necklace. Aliyah snapped back into non-violent consciousness, and fumbled to give the necklace to Ina.

"That necklace meant a lot to me," Aliyah said as Ina brushed the hair away from the back of her neck.

Ina hummed thoughtfully. "I could tell. I'd never seen you so absolutely livid before," she replied as she brought both arms around Aliyah's shoulders. Neither of them were ignorant to Aliyah's sharp intake of breath.

She smells good, she smells really good, why does she smell so good? Aliyah thought as Ina's perfume wafted incessantly into her nostrils. She could feel the warmth radiating off of Ina, the lapels of her blazer just brushing her back. Aliyah wished she would hurry and put that necklace on, before she started thinking with something besides her head.

Ina's fingertips brushed the back of her neck, eliciting goosebumps as she worked to clip the necklace into place. "There. Hopefully it's a worthy enough replacement?" She asked as she shifted beside Aliyah again.

Aliyah touched the necklace, and smiled down at the silver as it winked in the fireplace light. She looked up at Ina again, whose fingers were caressing her hand absently. Dark brown eyes crinkled at her in a subtle, knowing smile. Aliyah was powerless to resist smiling back.

"You're perfect," Aliyah said. Ina's eyes widened. "I-I mean, it's perfect! It's awesome!" She stuttered as her face turned the reddest shade of red on the color spectrum. Aliyah cleared her throat gruffly, ignorant to the small smile plastered on Ina's face.

"I'm glad you think so," Ina replied mercifully, before checking her watch. She frowned slightly as she realized that this Cinderella night was about to come to an end. "It's getting late. You should head home before your brother starts to get worried," she continued.

"He's with my uncle right now," Aliyah replied. Well, not really her uncle uncle, but everybody was your uncle when you were Filipino.

But why did she say that? Ina was either compassionately giving her a way out of this, or telling her to get the hell out now, and Aliyah was a useless lesbian who couldn't tell which one it was. But it only took her a moment to decide that there was one more thing she wanted to do before she left…

"Hey, uh, I've got one more present for you," Aliyah quipped. Ina cocked a brow curiously.

"Oh? And what might that be?"

Aliyah's eyes darted not so subtly to her lips, and Ina had her glasses on, so she saw it. The younger woman bit her lip pensively, but Ina's hand squeezing her granted her the necessary confidence. Slowly, she leaned in…

Aliyah hovered not even half an inch away from Ina's lips, their breaths one and the same. "May I?" She asked softly. Ina's eyes met hers underneath her long lashes. For a long moment, the two of them only stared at each other. Contemplating, waiting.

"Please," Ina finally replied. Aliyah's eyes creased in a hidden smile before she leaned forward, lips just barely brushing against Ina's. Ina's breath caught, and the hand on top of Aliyah's shifted to her waist. "Come here," Ina demanded, pulling Aliyah towards her and crashing her lips against hers.

"Mm…" Aliyah smiled against Ina's lips, dragging her hands up her arms and into her brown hair. Something had cracked in Ina, and Aliyah could see it through the light filtering through now. "Ina…"

After a long, long moment, Ina finally tore away with a gasp. Her eyes stared wide and lost at the floor, as if she’d just committed the indefinitely worst taboo. Aliyah watched her face expectantly...

And like clockwork, it slowly grew cold again.

"I… I can't. I just can't. I’m sorry," Ina said, "Aliyah… I think it's time you headed home."

Aliyah let out a mirthless laugh, practically tearing her hand away from Ina as she stood. Ina winced as the air around Aliyah shifted. She didn't so much as spare Ina a look as she scooped her jacket up into the crook of her arm and slung her bag over her shoulder.

Only when she was at the door of Ina's office did she look back at her. Aliyah’s eyes were glassy with what she would say was frustration. Ina stomach tightened painfully. "You need to figure your shit out, Ina. You're about as decisive as a horny high school sophomore," she spat, “If I wanted to be your little college girl plaything, I would’ve just told you so. This isn’t fair.”

Ina flinched at the sting, and then once more as the door slammed shut behind Aliyah. Neither of them saw the other as Aliyah brushed her fingers over the necklace and let out a sorry whimper, or as Ina ripped her glasses off and threw them across her office.

But, Dammit! They both thought.

~end~

Red Velvet Reel 8: Dirt Nap:

              [Fic Directory]

Pairing: [Married] Spicyhoney (Underfell Papyrus x Underswap Papyrus)

Summary: Edge is sleeping in too much, and it's starting to freak Stretch out. Too bad he sucks at confrontations, and Edge takes this opportunity to springboard into a topic Stretch never ever wants to discuss. Now they're both unhappy.

Characters: Edge (Underfell Papyrus) & Stretch (Underswap Papyrus)

Contains: Mpreg/Skelepreg! Domestic Fluff! Sleepy Edge! Worried Stretch! Anxiety! Discussions of death and wills! Crying! Emotional hurt/comfort (mild tho)! Misunderstandings! 

Rating: Teen and up! (I guess?)

Note: The official start of Phase II! :D Should clarify the title is a pun/double entendre, lol, nobody actually dies!

Sleepy mornings were his favorite.

Edge was too tired and out of it to put up his usual defenses, indulging in the raw affection he sometimes struggled with in his more alert moments. Waking up to see his husband snuggled up against him, so openly relaxed and at peace, never failed to soothe the unspoken concerns in Stretch’s soul.

...Were.

Stretch shifted into a more comfortable position, propping his head up on his arm as he watched Edge sleep. He stroked down the arms wrapped around his waist absently, glancing at the clock on the bedside table.

11:30.

There was that familiar prickle of concern. This was the second weekend in a row Edge slept in past 10. He usually only ‘slept in’ until 8:30.

“Darlin’,” he asked softly, running a gentle hand down a shoulder blade and along the humerus, “Are you feeling well?”

“Mmm...” Edge complained, turning further into Stretch’s chest to escape the tickling fingers. Stretch laughed at that reaction, enjoying the way his husband’s shoulders shook by extension. “Stop...”

Stretch rolled onto his back, bringing Edge with him. The sleepy monster huffed, rearranging himself into a more comfortable position, cheek pressed against his husband’s chest. He blinked blearily, voice rough with sleep, “Why’re ya up?”

“It’s past 11, Babe,” Stretch placed a hand on Edge’s forehead, discreetly feeling his temperature, “That’s the third weekend I’ve been the one waking you up. I’m getting worried you’re coming down with something...”

Edge gave a dismissive snort, “M’fine, Honey Bear.” Stretch smiled at the pet name, rubbing circles on Edge’s shoulders and pulling him closer. It did nothing to soothe his frazzled nerves.

“Yeah? Then why are you so sleepy, hmm? This entire week, I’ve been the one waking you up for work. You don’t usually sleep through your alarms.”

“You’re a bad influence,” Edge teased, obviously more awake now, although he still didn’t lift his head. “You and your laziness. Blue warned me, but-“

“I’m serious, Pap,” Stretch persisted, grabbing his husband’s hand and threading their fingers together, “What if you’re getting sick? We should go see Undyne again-“

Edge made a face at that, “Stretch-”

Shaking his head, Stretch continued earnestly, “What if something’s wrong with you? What if something’s wrong with Pancake?”

Edge changed his position so he was resting on his elbows, almost like a cat. He maintained eye contact as he put his head back down, tracing lazy hearts over the sternum.

“The baby is fine. I am fine,” Edge said slowly and carefully, mouth quirking into an almost mischievous grin, “Since they are your child, it’s only natural they crave sleep. That’s a good sign.”

“Heh,” Stretch smiled briefly, resting his hands on Edge’s hips loosely. As much as that comment filled him with warmth, however, that sense of unease and dread was overpowering. “We still need to get it checked out. I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you.”

“If anything happens to me, you would adjust and carry on.” Edge sighed almost like he was disappointed, like that was the most obvious answer in the world. Like it didn’t make Stretch’s soul freeze at the mere thought.

“Don’t-“ His throat felt tight, a heavy and unpleasant feeling settling in his bones, “Don’t say that!”

“Why not? I’ve been a part of your life for 6 years and 4 months. I’ve only been a part of your daily life for 1 year and 8 months.” Edge was so blasé and frank about it, like he was talking about the weather or something. “It would be difficult and painful,” he cupped Stretch’s cheek as though that made this whole horrible conversation any better, “But you can do it. I know you can.”

“What are you even talking about?!” Were they having the same conversation? “I’m even more worried now, thanks, so we’re absolutely going to the doctor now. Even so, it’s probably not life or death-“

“Yes it is!” Why was Edge still going on this horrible tangent?! “Life and death are all part of the same thing! Gain comes with loss. I could die today, tomorrow, two years from now, or twenty. We all Fall Down someday. Actually, back home-“

“Edge,” Stretch grabbed his face, butting their foreheads together, more than a little desperate, “This isn’t Underfell! You don’t need to worry about dying anytime soon!” He let out a little, shuddering breath, thoroughly spooked, “Geez, how can you even be thinking about this now of all times-“

“Papí.” He recognized that tone of voice, oh no- “We cannot control what events come our way, but we can control our reactions-“ Edge cut himself off when Stretch hugged him a little too tightly, face burrowed in the junction between his neck and shoulder. He pet the back of his husband’s skull gently. “You never know what could happen, so it’s very important we have a plan.”

Stretch shook his head stubbornly, feeling the beginnings of tears as his soul seemed to thunder in his chest. He wasn’t going to think about it. He wasn’t going to imagine this. “No.”

Edge went quiet for a moment as though he was actually surprised by the strong reaction he was getting. Bastard. “Let me tell you what I want you to do when I dust, then-“

Stretch groaned as loudly as he could, voice starting to break, “You are literally killing me!”

His husband continued to stroke his back reassuringly. “Well, in the event of my murder, Red is going to avenge me, if necessary. You don’t need to worry about that.”

Stretch wanted very much to make a snappy and irritated remark, but found himself trying to regulate his breathing. This was such a stupid thing to be upset about-

“It’s very selfish, but I want you to keep wearing my ring, and if possible, sprinkle some of my dust on it. When you proposed, you told me you would be mine forever- so I’ll hold you to it.”

Stretch’s shoulders shook with the force of his head shaking, unable to articulate anything coherent. He wished this was just idle talk- a cruel and morbid prank- but he knew his husband was being serious. Edge continued to stroke his skull, using his other hand to hold him close.

“I won’t ask you to remain celibate or single, but remember, I own your heart. My ring always goes first. And if you DO end up with someone else, which you can, and maybe even should if Pancake outlives me, then-“

“Stop, stop!” Stretch gasped incredulously, feeling like he was going to burst into tears, “How can you possibly want to talk about that?”

Edge looked at him incredulously,  “It’s an important conversation we need to have. I have several plans for Pancake’s future, but I need your input first.” He pulled out three folders from his inventory. “The pink folder is in case we both die and it’s for our brothers. The yellow one is in case I die and it’s for you. The blue-”

“Oh my God, you’re gonna die-” It felt like a knife had been thrust into his soul, and he could practically feel Edge turn to dust in his arms. Why else would he have such detailed plans? “You’re gonna die, and leave me alone with Pancake-” His chest was starting to hurt, and it felt like it was getting harder to breathe as the waterworks started.

“I am not going to die! I’m fine!” Edge pulled him against his chest, alternating between patting and rubbing his back. He actually sounded alarmed now, “Why would I die now, when I have so much to live for? Don’t cry!”

Stretch tried to say something else, but it just came out as a watery blubber.

“I’m not going anywhere. I’m okay, Papa Bear.” Edge held him until he managed to get his breathing back under control. Maybe he didn’t have Edge’s soul reading ability, but it wasn’t hard to tell his husband was definitely spooked, “Why are you crying?” Edge brushed away the tear tracks gently, “This is a complete overreaction! I’m not going to dust from sleeping too long-”

Somehow, that little phrase cut through the haze of grief and Stretch saw red.

“I’M overreacting?!” Stretch sputtered in a rage, pulling away with an indignant huff, “You-! How dare you!”

He didn’t wait for Edge to answer, “I was just asking if you were coming down with a cold! You’re the one talking about death! I’m sorry I worry about you?! This whole death talk cruel and unnecessary-“

Edge flinched, pulling away, and Stretch was immediately filled with remorse.

“Babe, Sweetheart, love of my life, please,” Stretch wasn’t above begging, literally clasping his hands in supplication, “I didn’t mean it that way. Sorry.”  

This was a weird, bad awkward. Stretch kept talking nervously, “If you want to discuss the future, how about we look at the best and happy one! Like, how we want to decorate and furnish the nursery! Or look over at Blue’s baby shower theme and venue suggestions! Literally anything else, please, please.”

For a long moment,  Edge was quiet, something unreadable in his expression as he scrutinized his husband’s face. Finally, he nodded stiffly, “...Ok.”

Great. Now Edge was mad or disappointed in him, and he felt bad again-

“I’m sorry I upset you,” Edge said quietly, obviously considering his words very carefully, “If it makes you feel better, I will go and see the doctor.”

“No-“ Stretch sighed scrabbling at his face, “You’re right, I overreacted- you’re not dying, you’re just, like, utilitarian and morbid. Efficient and morbid?” He kept his hands over his face, not wanting to see Edge’s expression at that poor word choice. “Anyway, I know you hate the doctor, and I was getting carried away, so-“

“It’s fine.” Edge’s tone was still cautious and calm, and he quickly got out of bed. Stretch only lifted his hands to look up at his husband when he felt the gentle weight of a cellphone on his chest. “You should-“

“Are you mad at me?” Stretch sat up quickly, cellphone tumbling to his chest as he caught Edge by the wrist. “I’m sorry- I know this sort of conversation is important and you meant well, so I didn’t mean to be dismissive or anything. I’m sorry I didn’t react well, but you just caught me off guard-“ The words just started tumbling out, a roiling sense of unease that was making his anxiety spike, “And then talking about Pancake like that was just a little too much for me! I mean, they aren’t even born yet and you’re already prepping for a future where you’re not there and I just- I can’t even begin to even think about a future without you and I can’t fathom having them but not you so I just panicked-“

“Papí.” Edge’s tone was firm but warm, taking his hands with a squeeze that was too tight to be pleasant. It sure got him focusing on that instead of his frenzied thoughts though. “You need to calm down. We’re done talking about that.”

He let go of his husband’s hands only to move onto the phone, “You will call the doctor and set up an appointment for Thursday morning. Then you will come downstairs and we’ll have brunch.”

“I love you.” Stretch buried his face in his husband’s ectostomach as he threw his arms around Edge’s waist. “I’m so sorry-“

“Why? I made you cry.” Edge’s tone was warm and he rubbed his back fondly. “I’ll make you a Coolada-” Edge stopped himself. “Maybe tea would be better. I’ll add some honey. And I’ll make some of those grit things you love so much, with extra butter to it this time. We’ll also have eggs and toast and… Uh...”

Why didn’t Edge include any Underfell dishes in that line up? Edge wouldn’t eat the grits or eggs, and he almost always made Greempanadas when he was in a Brunch mood...

“Whatever else you want.”

This was backwards. Edge had a very definite uneasy tension in the way he was carrying himself, and Stretch should be comforting him. He didn’t have a reason to be this discombobulated. “But-“

“Call her, and then come down when you’re ready,” Edge was stern, as though he could read his mind, pulling away and making his way to the door. He paused at the door jamb, looking over his shoulder, “It’s fine. Stop agonizing over this.”

Stretch watched him leave, trying very hard not to agonize. He had obviously offended/hurt Edge with that comment, to the point his husband was backing off anything related to Underfell. That wasn’t what he wanted at all, but how was he supposed to turn this around? Edge, understandably, didn’t want to talk about it anymore…

Right, Edge was the kind of guy who appreciated actions over promises and words. Thursday, ok. That would give him several days to show Edge... something. But what? [ Start of Phase II: ███████░░░░░░░ 50% ]

That Got Away: A Criminal Minds Fan-fiction Part 13

Inspired by: Katy Perry’s “The One That Got Away”

 Bill Withers’ “Aint No Sunshine”

Featuring: Spencer Reid x Reader   Setting: Season 4   Rating: Mature

A/N: This is seriously hard to wrap up guys. I appreciate you all reading this far. Get those tissues ready! Warnings: Slightly public Smut and this is SUPER long. xoxo Stu

I do not own the lyrics, images or characters from the show.

Part 1   Part 10   Part 11  Part 12

This was the face you woke up to; the dewy-eyed relief of Dr. Spencer Reid. You felt like cotton balls had taken over your brain matter, but you were no longer in pain.

“Hi,” You said, sleepily. “What time is it?” You tried to sit up, but your body was so heavy. Spencer reached down and grabbed your right hand, sliding the remote for the bed’s hydraulic unit into your palm. Once you were nearly vertical, you took in the pathetic hospital room you had been granted.

“It’s nearly 6,” Spencer answered. “In the morning.”

“What a day, huh?” You tried to laugh, but your chest was bandaged. You rubbed your chest as the pain dulled, slightly.

“You have some bruising on your sternum, so that is why your chest is tender.” Spencer started to recite your chart. But you interrupted because that line was too good to leave there.

“But Sir-sir, I thought my chest was already tender.” You hummed at your self-amusement; drugs are nice. He rolled his eyes, sticking his tongue in his cheek at your raunchy pun.

“Yes, mon cher, it most definitely is.” Spencer sat down in the metal framed chair beside your bed. His face was serious now. “We have your aunt and Kurt Hansen, the bellhop, in custody.”

“And Michelle?” You asked, voice slightly hitching in alarm.

“She attacked Morgan and Prentiss had to stop her. I’m sorry, Y/N, but she’s dead.” Spencer rubbed along your forearm.

“Oh, good riddance,” You mumbled. You knew you should feel guilty about her death, but it just wasn’t coming to you. Not after all this.

“She was found with the murder weapon, Y/N,” Spencer continued. “It looks like she was the one who killed your dad. Miriam was probably the mastermind, but Michelle was the one.”

You yawned into your left hand, allowing all the information in. The past few days were a fairy tale in the earliest use of the phrase, dripping with viscous monsters and a speckle of unexpected romance. The surrealism of it was hitting you now. “Spencer, will you stay with me? I know I don’t deserve it, but will you be here when I wake up?”

He nodded, his brown eyes drowning in concern. “Of course, of course.” He bent over the railing on the side of your bed and kissed you goodnight. He sat back into his seat, pulling a tattered book from his satchel. You couldn’t read the title, but he did appear to be using an old scratch off as a bookmark. You smiled as the gentle hum of machines and the drips of their drugs whisked you away.

Hey, I oughtta leave young thing alone But ain't no sunshine when she's gone

Ain't no sunshine when she's gone Only darkness every day

The semester in Greece was a whirlwind. You had never been so possessed by your studies as you were walking the foothills and shoreline paths. The scenery was beyond all of your childhood fantasies. It wasn’t until your third week in Athens that you realized you had missed four phone dates with Spencer. Your stomach pitched as you realized how you would have felt if he had done that to you. How hadn’t you known how long you had been gone? What had you done?

You immediately left the cafe where you and your small group were eating lunch. You found a tourist cart and bought a postcard.  The rushed apology and quick small talk about his holidays were a weak attempt at atonement. It didn’t matter anyway; Spencer had moved and would never receive the letter.

An eager looking blonde woman was standing in the doorway. She held a loud purse in one hand and a laptop in the other. Spencer had dosed off in his spot at your side, his curls a halo. You rubbed at his ear. Then slowly patted his head with your right hand, the weight of it numbing your thigh. He wasn’t getting the hint.

“I’m sorry, but can I help you?” Your voice rasping. “He doesn’t seem to be ready to join us.” You smiled gently.

“Dr. Y/L/N?” She started. “My name is Penelope, I work with Reid in Quantico.”

Her name was registering in your memory from Agent Morgan’s conversation in the conference room. “Penelope...you’re Garcia? The tech wizard?” You verified.

“God, I love you already.” Her infectious smile radiated through the dull room. “Yeah, that’s me. I have something that belongs to you.” She held up the small computer.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t really take it, yet.” You explained, pointing at the sleeping man and all of your assorted bandages.

“No worries, sweetums.” Garcia comforted. She took a seat on the opposite side of your bed than where Spencer was slumped. “So,” whispering now, “I must know, how is Reid with his hands? Because honestly, they’re too pretty to not be useful.”

Your blush rushed over you as you squealed in laughter. You tried to muffle it with your left palm, but once you started laughing you couldn’t stop, shaking the bed and rousing Spencer from dreamland.

“Garcia, when did you get here?” Spencer asked, once he had realized where the commotion was coming from. “And, Y/N/N I would appreciate it if you don’t answer that question while I am in the room, at the very least.” His eyes danced in embarrassed beguilement as he intertwined his hand in yours.

“Awww,” Penelope gushed, holding her heart at the affection passing between you and Spencer. “I need you both anyhow. You see this is the lap top that Madwoman Miriam was trying to hack into. This is why she needed you both. There are sets of puzzles, but they are assigned to the two of you. Now, I know Reid had started answering them already. Y/N, do you want to try now or do this on your own?”

This laptop held information that caused your dad to be murdered. Or Miriam was just assuming it was important and it held nothing worth your power-hungry aunt having her neighbor girl stab your dad to death. It was and it wasn’t. If there was one thing you and Spencer could do together: it was be curious. And the damned laptop mystery was pushing at the cogs inside your head.

You nodded at Spencer’s friend, her excitement obvious. “Oooo, goody. I didn’t want to tamper with evidence if I didn’t have to.” Garcia wheeled the empty meal tray over your lap, setting the computer down in front of both you and Spencer’s thoughtful expressions.

Between the questions Spencer already deciphered and the trivial memories your father challenged you with, the screen was unlocked within fifteen minutes.

A bright banner scrolled horizontally and suddenly your father’s wide face was smiling back at you.

“Y/N, my sweetheart... and Spencer, of course! Thank you so much for working together on my little game. I hope you took the challenge in stride. I found I had fun preparing the questions. Now when I first devised this test, years ago, I was having a mild health scare and wanted to save something of myself for you to have in the future, Y/N. I wished I had recorded more of your mother’s words and wishes. You know she was gone so soon.” His kind eyes began to mist remembering your mom. His voice quavered, but he continued.

“Now Spencer, you are probably wondering why I suckered you into this ordeal. Well, naturally because you could not forget some answers and because you wouldn’t refuse our Y/N, if she indeed needed your insight. But most importantly, it is because I’ve always thought of you as a protegee, as close to a son that I have experienced. I wanted you to have opportunities that your circumstances may have not allowed you.”

You glanced at Spencer’s expression watching your dad’s confession, his lips twitched and his eyes held much weight. You sniffled, holding his hand firmly atop the itchy hospital blanket.

“My darling, Y/N/N, I am sorry to leave you. No matter if I am a senile git or the plump lug I am now. I never wanted to leave you alone in this world, my amazing girl. Take all that I have given you and spread it, my dear. Life is not about holding on, it is about letting go. Even now, I am learning this most difficult lesson.”  Then he paused, composing himself.

“I love you infinitely.” He kissed his two forefingers and touched the camera lens. The monitor went black.

The next day was the funeral on campus. You had been released from the hospital on the condition that you would return before dinner medications were passed. The funeral was set to begin at 1pm, so you had five hours of fresh air to look forward to. You were waiting at the curb outside the ambulance bay.

“Y/N, that veil is a little morbid isn’t it?” Spencer asked, scrutinizing your fashion choice. It was clearly meant to conceal your injuries, but that was lost on someone who saw beyond the physical layer of people.

“Really, Spencer, my veil is morbid?” You had your hands on your hips and your argument face on. “I’m only going to my father’s funeral, after he was murdered by people who later kidnapped and tortured me. My veil is morbid? I think this is just the appropriate level of humility and morbidity, thank you very much.”

Spencer’s eyes were saucers, but the laughter came after the shock. He held out his arm to you. You accepted it, balancing your uncertain weight on to him. You had a limousine from the funeral home pick you up, the hospital was a regular stop for them anyways.

Spencer’s whole team were coming to support him as he said goodbye to your father. You were pleased he was surrounded by a group of people who loved and respected him. You only children to single parents don’t realize how important big families are until you see them in action. Spencer deserved to be happy and it appeared saving people helped him pursue it, in his own way.

The ride to the campus was quiet, so you played with the dials on the radio. Different music filled stations you had once memorized, more commercials than you imagined congested others. Finally an oldies station came through, its yearning lyrics pulling at your grieving heartstrings.

Ain't no sunshine when she's gone And this house just ain't no home Anytime she goes away

And I know, I know, I know, I know...

You began to weep softly, holding Spencer’s strong hand in your lap. The sadness was not getting easier, the waves increased as the day progressed. You had not prepared something to read during the service, how could you? Even if you hadn’t been held hostage, you knew you wouldn’t have been able to string three coherent words together. No, your father knew you loved him. Everyone knew you missed him. And you knew this was just one stop on the journey ahead.

You recognized so many of your dad’s colleagues. There were even some of your friends from New York that had flown out to show their condolences in person. If you could feel anything besides muted agony, you would have been touched. Spencer stood by you the entire day, making small talk for you, greeting old professors and classmates. He was stunning in his duty.

The meal was just a cocktail and hors d'oeuvres hour in one of the lecture halls. The school did a beautiful job decorating for the event. You took in the scene of hundreds of people visiting, remembering and drinking in honor of your father, the quirky mathematics professor. It was amazing what one little life could do.

You sat alone in the limo in peaceful silence. You could feel the painkillers wearing off, but the ache reminded you that you remained. You hadn’t shuffled loose of this mortal coil just yet. Up until now, your life had been a study of people and places past. Always looking back at society through a defined scope of detachment. Suffering and surviving what you had these past few days, made you start to truly think about the future.

The feelings of nervous energy and gentle contentment were still there between you and Sir-sir. The impossibility of it all made you want to savor what little time you had left. Your spring break was half over, but Spencer always seemed to have another “unsub” lurking in the far reaches of the country. This spark might be fleeting, but it wasn’t snuffed just yet.

Spencer had finished checking in with his teammates, his superior Agent Hotchner the last to pat his back in farewell. As he climbed into the car, bending in half to accommodate the low ceiling he called your name. You chuckled gently as his eyes scanned the dim space. You were on the seat opposite him, in his jacket, your awful veil and nothing else.

You knew the bandages on your face and chest were rather off putting, so you tried not to highlight them. You sat quietly, watching the conflict work itself out over his chiseled features. Your breathing was starting to become embarrassing, would the man ever make up his mind?

“Y/N, did you know that popularity of shaving legs is attributed to the model Betty Grable?” Spencer started, his dark eyes gliding across every inch of you. He knelt down upon the floor of the limo and crawled toward you. Your body tensed at his approach, but you couldn’t keep the laughter inside any longer. “Spencer, just get over here already!”

He lunged at you, laughing back. His tremendous hands found your sides and tickled you, just firmly enough to feel it under the layers of bandages. Your lips enveloped his first, greedy, needing all of him. He was so gentle with you and you pushed harder, tugging at his clothing. Right there with Spencer, you were alive. He was keeping you somewhere between falling and flying.

He threw your pompadour beret against the rear window and caressed your neck in his hand. You tugged at his hair, keeping his face to yours. His other hand was pulling your ass on to his lap. He keenly teased your inner thighs from behind. “Please tell me you have that last condom?” You growled into his cheek as you trailed kisses to his jawline.

“What if I didn’t, Y/N?” Spencer whispered, shocking you. “What would you do then?” You glanced into his deep set eyes, the question was a taunt. You accepted that challenge. You kept your eyes pinned on him, his hunger driving yours. Slowly you slid from his lap, trailing your hands over his trim chest. You knelt on the floor in front of him, as if at a prayer rail. Next you slid his belt out of its loops, letting it fall to the floor with a clunk.

You eased him from his pants and boxers, tossing them on to the discard pile. His sex was ready and you began with the tip, sliding your tongue and his early juices down his shaft with relish. He groaned low in his chest as you took him deeply. One of his fists covered his mouth, while the other hand caressed your neck, never pushing or pulling you. You core throbbed knowing how you pleased him, knowing how he would be pleasing you soon. His thighs strained and you increased your suction, swallowing constantly to complete his climax. His body thrashed against you as you downed his seed.

You wriggled gently back on to his lap, purring into his ear. His lazy smile made you smirk coyly back at him. You twirled his hair through your fingers. “That’s what I would do, Spencer.” You whispered conspiratorially.

“I wish I knew you could do that when I was seventeen,” Spencer confided, “I would have deserved that lecture from your dad, had I known.” The mention of your dad wasn’t painful or uncomfortable, it was just a quick sly remark. Spencer’s dark eyes filled with lust again and he started kissing your knuckles, up your arm, across your collarbone, down your bandaged chest. “Now this is a sin to hide these,” Spencer lamented, his thumbs encircling your nipples over the layers of gauze. You moaned, the longing to have him on the sensitive buds was torture.

His sure arms lifted you from his lap and guided you down on the heap of forgotten clothes. As his lips found your navel, the limousine’s engine roared to life. The vibrations from his laughter and the car made you squirm beneath him. The driver began to lower the partition, but Spencer spoke first. “We’ll need a minute, if you don’t mind?”

“Of course, sir, I’ll just put the game on then.” The suppressed sound of a basketball game being announced wafted from the once again sealed barrier. Spencer liked basketball, you remembered.

“Now, where was I?” Spencer whispered into the dip near your pelvis bone. The anticipation was driving you batty. “No, I think I was over here.” His warm breath slid over you as he switched hips. His gentle hands pulling your knees back for him. The dew of your lips clung to your inner thighs, Spencer took his time lapping it up. You moaned his name, not caring if the driver could hear you or not. Finally, his fingers found your center, thrusting with such force you sat up in shock.

He gently nipped your thigh while shushing you. “I’m sorry, Y/N, are you alright?” He begged worriedly. You couldn’t speak, you just nodded, leaning into kiss him. Your flavors mingling on your tongues. You remained upright, riding his fingers as his tongue massaged yours. His thumb rolled over your clit and you saw stars. You squealed into his kiss as he carried you through your orgasm. You fell over, lifeless and reeling.

Spencer was massaging your thighs, which twitched in the aftermath. He smiled at you, you shook your head at him. “Yeah, if I had known you could do that when I was eighteen I would have been locked up.”

“Reid, you sure you’re not going to take a few days?” Morgan asked just outside your hospital room. The handsome man was leaning his meaty shoulder against the door frame. Spencer, also a handsome man, stood with his back to you, his hands casually in his pockets.

“Yeah, we need to get back. Besides I think she’ll be sick of me if I stick around for her entire grieving process.” Spencer admitted. He turned to glance at you, you just shook your head at his self-deprecation.

You had survived another night in the hospital, waiting for the doctors to formally release you. Spencer’s FBI unit was packing it up after an overly involved investigation. You leaned back onto the wide bed, waiting for the barrage of farewells to begin. “Agent Morgan, don’t let him fool you. Sir-sir is just upset that I am not begging him to stay.” You called to the friendly agent.

Derek’s bright grin glistened back to you. “Oooo, it’s like that, huh?” He chuckled, approaching your bedside. “You going to be okay once we jet home? I don’t want this guy’s mind to be distracted.”

You sighed, “I will be right as rain. Are you going to be okay?” You emphasized, stroking the matching gauze on his forearms. Derek leaned down and gave you a gentle hug, you patted his large back in gratitude.

“Oh, this is nothing, Doctor. I am taking Prentiss with me, so my back is covered.” Spencer watched you interact with his close friend from the door frame. It appeared to amuse him, his past and his present bantering. JJ, Penelope and Agent Prentiss had gathered at Spencer’s left. The three amazing and brilliantly unique women gushed as Derek stepped back from your embrace. Penelope worked her away to Derek’s side, unable to keep her hands from some part of him.

“Thanks, Penelope, for everything.” Your face a measure between gratitude and sadness. “Especially for doing my shopping, I honestly thought I had packed more clothes.” She held your hands and leaned in for a cheek to cheek kiss.

“Anytime, Y/N, girl, anytime.” Garcia promised. Derek escorted the tech analyst pack to the hallway with his arm slung around her shoulders. You waved at JJ and Emily at the door. Their expressions were more sober, but you understood why.

“JJ?” You started, clearing your throat. “You kiss that baby for me, alright? Tell him I am sorry that his mama was gone so long.” Spencer made a strained empathy sound in his throat at your guilt laden remark, he walked over to play with the fingers on your left hand.

JJ nodded from the doorway, a sad smile on her mouth. Emily patted her back.

“Agent Prentiss?” You continued. “Emily, I should say, thank you. I imagine it is not an easy thing to take a life, but thank you for doing your job here.” You were firm, trying to use your advisor voice. Thinking back the bandage on your face probably took away from any authority you once mustered.

She nodded at you, “Of course, Doctor, I’m just glad you’re alright.” She turned to leave the doorway. “Reid, we’ll meet you in the parking lot.”

Spencer held his head down, though his eyes weren’t focusing on their intertwining digits. This had been a brutal case for him, losing Dr. Y/L/N, letting himself savor Y/N like he always meant to, losing JJ and Y/N too easily. It was a lot to process even for a mind like his. Y/N reached for his face, tilting his chin in her right palm.

“There are words upon words that I would use to keep you here, but we know that it would be “with sweet, reluctant, amorous delay.” She smiled gently at him. “Sir-sir, thank you for saving me, in every sense of the word.”

Spencer inhaled, his lips pursed and his big eyes melancholy. “It was an honor, mon cher.” He leaned into her hand, as he closed his eyes to the gentle tears. His words were evading him, so he just leaned down to kiss her goodbye. The smell of ointment and her lotion mingled on the air. He took her mangled face ever so softly and kissed her as he memorized every curve of her mouth.

Heading back to the parking lot was a sun washed blur for Spencer, but he had composed himself enough to join the team once more. On the flight home, he finished the book he had been reading, slipping his lucky bookmark back into his wallet for the next adventure.

Epilogue

@sparkle-dinosaur, @dontshootmespence @reiding-and-writing @speedreiding @reid-my-fortune @sapphire1727 @holagubler @cherry-loves-fanfic @lookingforgalifrey @miss-gleek-freak-geek@criminal-minds-fanfiction @reidbyers @sortaathief @imagicana @milkandcookies528 @reidsexualwriting

Birthday Fic

For @botgalhs, sorry for it being so late!! They sat apart on her couch, as always. Polar opposites. Him, boiling hot and cold at the prospect of physical intimacy. Her, freezing cold and needy and desperate for touch and praise and approval. But she could never ask for touch from him, he'd leave and she’d be more cut off. So, their legs touched and they looked at each other and they talked. “I mean, who would get it in their mind to do that shit?” Meenah’s shirt was off, her fingers just barely brushing the frayed ends of where her gills used to be. Or would've been. “I can't breathe underwater, I can barely-” her voice broke off in a gasp and her fingers gave an involuntary twitch when she prodded to hard. Blinking hard, Meenah's words came in stutters before she found her verbal footing again, “I can barely touch the gills now.” Kankri, who had been surprisingly silent while she talked, “I am not sure where your ancestor got that idea, to shear off the filaments in your gills.” His lips twisted in a light frown and he sat up more, just barely reaching towards her torso, “May I?” Sitting up so fast her vision went fuzzy, Meenah nodded her head, “Yeah, course you can.” Her torso tensed as his hand came closer to her gills. And then the warm pads of his fingers brushed over her gill slits and she exhaled, relaxing into his touch. Slowly, he rubbed her side, maintaining eye contact with her. Making sure he didn't hurt her, “I'm going to preface this with the fact that I am not trying to coopt your tragedy, I'm sure that doing that would most certainly offend. But, I do believe I can relate to the idea and notion of a controlling lusus figure.” A slight breath in preparation that didn't really give her a chance to reply, “As I hope is obvious, I would be considered a lowblood in the eyes of Beforian society, which also meant that on Beforus itself I was culled. Meaning that a cooler blood than I possessed took me in and took the place of my would-be yet in truth nonexistent lusus. I happened to be taken under the care of one Quinne Pierot, a purple blood. Same caste, actually, as our very own Kurloz Makara.” He frowned slightly when he said the name, “But that really isn't important in this matter. What is, is the fact of her blood color. I'm sure that I do not have to remind you that the purple blooded caste has a high tendency towards the vein of manipulation we call Chucklevoodoos.” His hand flinched, but gracefully had avoided driving into Meenah's gills, “It shouldn't come as a surprise, that as her cullee I was subjected to pampering behavior and controlling behavior. But what I wish to be, but ultimately doubt that it is, a surprise to you. Is that i was also subjected to a great deal of manipulation. Though, I suppose the reason of my lack of a will to wish that prior knowledge is due to our...more red tinged romance.” Truthfully he had no idea really where this arrangement between them. They had started out as kismeisises, unsurprisingly given their conflicting natures. Though after a particularly nasty brawl, Aranea had intervened between them and took the role of auspice, thus pushing them into ashen territory. At her insistence, Kankri and Meenah were made to spend (what Aranea had called, at least) ‘quality time’ together. And here they were. Straddling the line somewhere between true flush and pale. But it worked for them. So they worked. Quandaries about the nature of their relationship aside, Kankri continued on, “Nevertheless, now you know, or at least, were reminded. But it is true, I was subjected to near constant control, or at the very least, an overpowering presence in my mind. Which led to my tendency to not be able to talk over trollain for long or very late into the morning. Almost everything I did was controlled. When I woke up, what I wore, what I ate, how much I ate, what I would do, where I would go (if she decided that I could even go anywhere at all), and when I went to sleep.” His eyes had dropped from Meenah's and were now glaring slightly out the window. “Again, which is why I was so reckless during the start of the game. Which is why I have so many scars,” At the mention, his hand automatically went to his chest, “which is why I dislike Porrim's constant mothering and I can't stand to be alone with the Makara of our session. The two of them remind me too much of..of Quinne. And I do hope to inform you that the mere fact that you have never been soft or gentle with me as opposed to anyone else is, quite honestly, a large part of how I came to the decision to break my vow for our...relationship.” There was a break of silence. Kankri waiting for Meenah to talk and Meenah wondering how hard it'd be to find Quinne and beat the living shit out of her. Clearing her throat, Meenah nodded her head, “All understandable, Kan. Can't say I exactly blame you for wanting P-Mar to stop doing...what she does.” Shifting closer on the couch, Meenah sighed out softly, “I know what Chucklevoodoos do, Kankri, or would it be too morbid for me to tell you?” He blanched, fake paling as he shook his head, “Not to morbid, don't worry. The only thing that worries me is that you know what Chucklevoodoos do and since you are not a part of the purple class you know them second hand.” A tired chuckle and Meenah rubbed at her temple, “Yeah, I know them second hand. Hard naut to, when your ancestor is the empress and you're a rowdy wriggler who once tagged the side of the palace with spray paint. But, that was back before I was chosen to become the next Empress. I, try not to think about what coulda happened to me had I not ran off to the moon. Cause if ya look at where I was going, it wasn't to a good place. Ya see, since I was such a rowdy beach my ancestor- y’know the Empress- found it a great idea to get one of her advisors, purple blood by the name of Sabyli Perema, to dive right down into my mind and fuck me up. Puppetted me around the glubbing throne room, nebber had a minute to myshellf if people were over and I needed to be a perchfect host. So, I’m shore that if I had been left to my own ancestor’s devices and stayed on that damed planet, I’d be in a wave worse place.” The amount of fish puns she used had kept increasing as she got more and more agitated. The glow of her spots kept fluctuating from neon to barely existent, causing Kankri to raise his eyebrow and half reach out. In response, Meenah leaned into his hand, sinking into it and exhaling loudly before continuing, “So, that was a bitch to deal with. Espeshelly with the inability to swim and the corsets and the pressure and engagements and-” She was cut off by Kankri making a strangled sound. “Engagements? Who were you engaged to?” His paled out eyes were widened in concern, his thumb gently rubbing her cheekbone. A half-humorous laugh, “Cronus, if you could believe. It made sense, I guess, at the tide. His ancestor was a military general, so he had a big name to live up to. He was rich and powerful and so was I, so ole fishtits thought it great to pair us up together.” Kankri frowned slightly and tugged some pillows and blankets over, pulling Meenah onto the makeshift pile and holding her close. His warm hands moved to pet her hair and rub at her horns until her tensed shoulders slumped and a purr started up. “Think of the bright side, Meenah. It’s not that your issues don’t matter, because they do. But the causes of your issues are long away now, on another planet and in another time. You’re safe here, I won’t let anything be done to you. You’re going to be okay and you’re going to be happy and I will not let anything bad happen Meenah.” She just purred louder and nodded her head, shifting closer and wrapping around him, “Yeah, yeah. Same for me, Kan, you’re gonna be safe. Won’t let Kurloz near you, won’t let him ever get in your bright little brain. I’ll make you safe, make sure you’re safe until you’re content and happy.” Her own hands moved through Kankri’s hair, touching his horns lightly (but mostly focusing on massaging his scalp) until his eyes went half lidded. “I love you, Meenah.” He mumbled out, shifting to get more comfortable like he was going to sleep. “I love you too, Kankri.” Meenah smiled at him, hugging him closer and tucking her head into the crook of his neck.