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gazetotheabyss · 7 months

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I read the words plain as day on my computer screen some weeks ago. With no context it might seem so entirely monotonous. Like the pop up anyone might see on any given shady ass website they come across while doom scrolling.

But I think I'm getting ahead of myself.

My name is Geri. I, like most people my age, grew up in this wild age of information. My parents from the generation who slaved away in times of the unknown, blessed by the ignorance of some harsh bouts of misinformation given to them by Aunt Agnes some odd years ago that they just didn't have any sort of measure to dispute. Or, and God forbid, having to go to the library. But us? All of us? It's all at the tips of our fingertips, isn't it? The age of rumor and myth was killed by the dawn of Snopes and Wikipedia, and for the most part that's okay.

God, I'm sorry.

Okay.

I'm not that type of person to go on long diatribes about nothing. At least I wasn't. It's all twisted in my head now. Where to start, where it's going to end. I'm committing to just writing as a train of thought, to make sure I get it all down for posterity. It's all a mess and jumbled in my head, so some things might be out of order, but this is all true. As much as I would have loved to have been making this up.

Blah blah blah, it was a normal day. Went to work. Came home. Do you really even care about those details? Reading about the sort of hot pocket me, a broke college student, picked on that monumental night? After finishing up a particularly grueling portion of a paper I was working on for the Lit class I'm taking I had to shut off my brain. You know, decompress? My brain was fried, I was tired, but I just couldn't bring myself to sleep. The thought of working so hard the whole day only to waste what little free time I had with sleeping just sounded so fucking miserable. So, doing what any of us do, I laid there. Practically catatonic under a mountain of blankets, cozy up, listening to whatever YouTube videos I could find to just play in the background, while just scrolling. Post to post, site to site. Not even really reading or processing. Just scrolling, hoping to feel something.

I thought I would fall asleep for a minute or two. I clicked some link, shady as it might have been, thinking by some measure it was a joke or something since I'd just been imbibing in some pseudo-deep meme content after a bit. I'm hesitating to type the name of it right now, because I really don't want to curse anyone with this, but just know it was very... I don't know, 90s Geocities. The top of the page read 'Library of Eternity' with some bad clipart of a book. It was all very bad and by all rights writing it off should have been what I did, but that late with so little brain power the curiosity is stronger than the will to click away. Clicked the little book and my screen went black. Fucking virus, right?

Honestly that's what I thought. All the furious clicking, slamming my fingers angrily on the keyboard, it really didn't seem to do shit. After about ten minutes of screaming to any higher power who would listen a window popped up.

Corny shit, right? I've written off my laptop at this point. Maybe I can cry to mom and dad and beg for them to help me pay off a new one? Maybe Klarna? I just thank anyone who would listen that I didn't have any important information on there, and that two-factor authentication was on for my email. I close the damn thing and toss it off my bed, and that should be the end of it. If I had any sense about me at the time maybe it would have been, maybe if I knew the things I knew now or could go back and stop myself.

I browse reddit a couple hours, play some stupid game I saw on a mobile ad because fuck I'm bored, and that's the night. I pass out, wake up with a sore nose and my phone on the floor after passing out while browsing.

Then comes the beloved day off. The holiest of days to those of us playing double time as college kids out here in the trenches. I'm pumped, at least once I drag myself out of bed after hours of '5 more minutes'. Now not exactly being a social butterfly, most of the time my days off consist of exactly what you'd expect from someone who goes to school, goes to work, and has most of their friends online. I dick around on my computer, doing exactly what I did the night before. Now my dumbass, completely forgetting most of what had just transpired, gears up to do the exact same thing. Getting all cozy under my blanket fort again, ready to stream some movies, or binge the same show I've watched about a hundred times. But I open my computer and that popup is still fucking there. Mood trashed. Life ruined. Day off totally and completely in the gutter.

Nothing better to do. No computer, nothing else on the docket. I really have nothing to lose. At least for foresight purposes. So, boom, I clicked yes. But all it does is open up another pop up.

Fucking.

Yes?

I clicked yes. How much more ready could I be?

Clicking yes again I'm ready for meat spin, surprise real life gore, or some other sort of stupid jump scare surprise. But no, nothing so fun. Just another goddamned window.

This 90s ass virus website just called me ignorant. A challenge I could never have backed down from. No one will ever call Geri Monaghan ignorant. I was not about to be challenged by some two-bit website probably programmed before I was born.

I’m ready.

At the time that was what I thought. Of course, I did. How the hell would anyone expect--

My screen went from black to white. Okay, not expected in the slightest. It started with one sentence, then another, and they just kept lining up one right after another like a typical word document. Eventually when it ran out of room on the screen they started overlapping. I shouldn’t have been able to read or understand any of it with how fast it was happening. I just stared blankly, reading and absorbing every fucking word. Even as my screen went black, blank from all the information overloading it, I was retaining every written word. It was torture. It felt like hours were going by. Days even. Stuck in that fucking trance lost to endless streams of eternal information pouring bit by bit into my brain.

No one ever tells you how loud silence can be. Staring into the blank void of my screen was like staring into entropy. All sound vacuumed from my room, all life void from my body. But trapped. I was still in there. Stuck frozen with my eyes open, unable to close them or even move as that information became more. Like eternity spread itself open before me, my consciousness was ripped away. I was at the start of it all.

No.

Sorry.

That’s not right.

It was before the start. The black void. Before life, before time, before existence. A place where things like us shouldn’t be. Like tendrils writhing and slithering, it probed my mind. The worst headache I’ve ever fucking had times a million. Drilling a half inch bit into my skull without me ever going into shock or going numb to the pain. Everything went white again. The page was clear, and I was sitting on my bed again. Laptop open. Screen still black. Not even a minute had gone by.

Staring into that empty screen. That digital fucking abyss. I still felt like I was floating in that vacant nothingness. Existing before anything.

I know there’s so many guys out there who pretend to be know-it-alls, or that they have all the answers...

My head.

Felt so heavy. Just to exist even now while I’m writing this it feels like I’m trudging through miles and miles of heavy sludge like thoughts to even get to the point. All this stuff sitting in my head. The real stories of how life and history happened. The beginning, the end, the swirling concepts of space and time that mankind has only scantly begun to get a grasp upon. Omniscience? But in a head not meant to keep it. Answers to every question, knowledge of every fact that could be, would be, or had been.

I took an aspirin and decided to go for a walk. Maybe the fresh air would help. Maybe I just fried my brain last night reading a bunch of random shit after reading hours and hours of random Wikipedia articles or know your meme pages blankly to just fill the gaps.

For a minute it did.

Lights felt brighter, sounds felt clearer. I didn’t even put on my glasses today and I could see just fine. Something I didn’t even bother questioning in the moment. Mom always told me to never question good things and I wasn’t about to start now.

It really wasn’t until later in the day I was hanging around with my only real-life friend at this school. I don’t know, we’ll call him Tom. Tom and I usually do the same shit I do at the apartment. Only sometimes we smoke weed too. Everyone does that with their friends, right? Sit pretending to actually hang out when you’re both independently browsing on your phones while some random shit plays on TV? He asked me some random question.

I’d tell you I don’t remember it, but I do. I remember every detail as it hit me at that moment. Piercing through whatever fog the day had put to haze over the vast span of eternity all of those eons and eons of information just struck. Being shot in the head wouldn’t have felt all that much different. I answered his question.

“Bro, do you think there’s life on other planets?”

“Not within our immediate solar system.”

Not stated as an opinion, but as a fact. I was on autopilot, like a fucking Alexa or Siri, just blindly answering the question in totality as I knew it. Like knew it. Subjects I’d studied for years and years on end. Tom stopped me about halfway through.

“Dude what the fuck are you talking about?”

It was fair. I think at some point I stopped speaking English, and it was more just guttural noises. Some foreign language? Alien. Obviously confused, I replied.

“You asked me if I thought there was life on other planets dude, I’m just telling you there is.”

“How can you possibly ‘know’ that?”

Going off in a trance again pretty much, I told him all about the Library. All the things it showed me. I tried for him to keep it vague. But he kept prodding me. Asking me for more. I couldn’t shut it off. Like the curse of knowing all of this stuff was more than just the knowledge itself but having to share it just as readily. Which sounds great. Like the benefit of knowledge to mankind.

I told him everything. I looked him dead in the eyes. Answered every petty or grand question that came to his mind. Ones I couldn’t possibly know the answer to or ones that had just been prying their way at his mind.

He asked.

Oh god he asked...

“Can you tell me everything?”

I told him no. Like I was being pedantic or something. Fucking possessed, not able to stop myself or control my own body I just grabbed hold of him.

“No, I can’t tell you everything. There’s no time. I can show you though.”

Both hands on either side of his head, staring into his eyes.

“Dude don’t be gay.”

Which was funny as hell coming from the gay dude, but I wish I could laugh. He just went silent. This wasn’t like a movie or anything. There weren’t bright flashing lights, or some orchestral song to demonstrate just what was happening. Just Tom’s face going from bright and lively to sinking. All the color drained from his face. Happiness turned to horror. Tom just started screaming.

He wouldn’t stop.

The loudest blood curdling scream I’d ever heard, and it’s haunted me ever since that night. Like all this information was attacking him. He was begging for me to stop but I felt my fingers furling on their own. I was squeezing him, holding him in place. My mission was to make sure he learned everything I had. By the end of it he had screamed himself down to a rasp. An hour or so passed while we were sitting there. When my hands finally let me let go of his head, he just sank. Tom sagged, his whole body wrinkling on the couch for a moment while he breathed ragged. I sat there. Feeling empty. Nothing. Then, all I could do was sit there on his couch and watch him while he calmly and slowly stood up. Take a minute or two to compose himself or process the information and then run at his window and just fucking leap.

Tom was gone. One of the few things I don’t know is what exactly Tom saw that drove him to do that. Whether it was a specific piece of information, or if it was just his mind trying to process everything. Like burning out a CPU by overworking it.

Cops came, because of course they did. A man just killed himself, and they come up the stairs, bust down his door, to find me just sitting there. The thousand-yard stare, locked in my body like a puppet while someone else moved me. Question after question came. I answered them all honestly. Their final one broke me out of my daze.

“Why do you think he did it?”

I started crying, because it was all my fault. I just told them I didn’t know. It was the only question I could think of where I didn’t actually know the answer.

That week after that was a blur. I sat in my room doing my best to avoid talking to anyone while the Uni excused me from my classes for a while. Something about it being the last of my worries, but sympathy expires. I know it does. The vast swathes of information that shifts and wriggles through my brain like a virus. Infecting every part of myself that had ever been. I know what I was like before. Who I was. I’m having trouble holding on to whether or not that’s who I still am. The perspective of every single thing I knew has been warped beyond belief and I can’t look at life the same way I did before.

What was the point? I asked myself aloud.

And then I knew.

Why were we here, then?

And then I knew.

So, our whole purpose in life, the meaning of everything we’ve ever done--

But I already knew.

Mankind wasn’t meant to. Knowledge is not a gift. So many people spend their entire lives trying to find the meaning behind action. Why are we here? Where do we come from?

Is there a higher power?

Questions people live and die trying and failing to answer, I knew in an instant. I knew how Tom’s mom felt getting the call from the school. Every agonizing thought. I knew immediately how Tom felt, overburdened and overwhelmed.

And I knew how burdensome I’d been to everyone around me. Every single negative weight on my consciousness about what everyone thought about me outweighed any single positive counterweight it had. The disappointment I’d been. When you’re alone in the dark, in the deafening silence of a room black as pitch is when you start whispering the worst questions to yourself. The ones you don’t really wanna know the answers to but muttering them just helps you feel better.

Looking out across my desk, passed the light of my laptop, now I can still see the darkness of the void. The nothingness that probed my mind and let me see everything I’d ever asked. I claw at my scalp until it bleeds, scream until my voice can’t even carry sound with it. I haven’t eaten anything in days. I know there’s no point. No reason. I look in the mirror and I don’t even recognize the hollow shell of a person I’ve become. I just see... how tired I am. I’m so exhausted. Every time I sleep, more and more knowledge just floods into my head. For days I’ve felt like a balloon about to burst.

Maybe that’s what Tom saw.

Maybe he saw what would become of me, how it would feel.

Decided that he didn’t want to become this.

I looked up last night at my ceiling. Laid out flat on my bed, I asked to forget. If there was some way to unknow all of this. Could I go back to the way things were before? I remember very clearly the pop-up. As if the memory was spitting in my face.

Ignorance is bliss.

Humans weren’t meant to know this much.

The void, the ardent darkness lingering in a time before time. This morning, it called to me. Maybe it always did, but now it spoke and for the first time I understood. I can’t go back, can I? I’m trapped in this loop of suffering, with entropy pulling me apart from the inside.

There is no God listening.

No, that’s not true. There is no God answering our prayers. But it’s listening. Amusing itself on our suffering. It has fooled us into thinking there was ever any reason. There was ever good and evil but, in the end, there is only nothing. Nothing like there was before. Tom isn’t living it up in Heaven playing guitar and smoking weed in the afterlife. He’s not in Hell lamenting his sins or paying penance to some arbitrary rules. He’s gone. What I don’t know yet is if it’s the same for everyone, or if it’s my fault. If having this knowledge is what did it?

This whole thing to say I’m scared.

Or I was scared. Maybe this has been my way of working up the courage.

I’m so tired. I can’t sleep anymore. Every time I try, I just wake up more exhausted. I can’t keep doing this anymore. I tried. I tried to forget, I tried to make myself forget. I couldn’t talk to anyone else. I was afraid of what might happen if I did. What if they asked me like he did? It’s what it wants. I know it.

We weren’t meant to know. What we are meant to know isn’t even a full sentence on a page in a chapter in a single book in the endless library of eternity. We’re lucky to finish a word by the time we die. My head is pounding. It feels like any moment I’m just going to explode.

I can’t do this.

I’m sorry mom. I’m sorry everyone. If you read this, and then happen to come across that site?

Tom was right.

#short story #horror #existential dread #horror story #creepypasta #scary stories #creative writing #horror fiction

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exposedlockers · 5 years

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Headcannons, mind showing their parents and family and knowing about their relationship and first reaction the Legion’s disappearances

Uh well to be honest with you, I don’t even have their full designs yet. I have like small segments of ideas and headcanons for their parents, Especially Joey. Their parents are still a work in progress; but now that artfight is over I can get back around on working on them!(kind of.) I can show you what I have so far and talk about their reactions. I’ll put a read more since there might be alot haha. I also don’t know if I could really give you headcanons for each but I can definitely talk about them.. since… it’s still a wip.. sorry about the inconvenience!

We actually got an ask about their parents and this is where I left off before I got busy with personal stuff and other things.

I always saw Joey’s parents the disco/soul type before Joey came into their lives, And Joey loves it. He actually carries a photo of their younger days with him in his backpack and holds it to him dearly. He just loves his parents and looks up to them heavily. As for Julie and Susies parents, I dont have really anything for their past. So sorry about that. And Frank is uhh, just Frank haha.

I’ve somewhat brushed on their relationships with their parents but I could talk alittle more about it!

Starting off with Joey, His relationship with his parents slowly went sour after Frank stumbled upon his life. His father became ashamed of Joey as he went through a transformation. looks, style,everything. He used to look like this:

I guess you could say he felt like he lost his boy, seeing the people he hanged out with. I wouldn’t say he despised him, more ashamed of him in a way. Joey didn’t end up the son his father dreamed of having. Though his mother doesn’t mind who he has become. Joey and his mother still held a close relationship, the only thing that got in the way was the drinking. His mother’s drinking habits held a burden upon him and his family, and it pushed him to distance himself from spending time with his mother. He couldn’t handle the atmosphere of constantly taking care of his drunk hungover mother. It depressed him watching her waste her life away, but there were brief moments where it was just the two of them spending time together just like when he was a little kid. To put it in a more simple way, Joey is sort of a mama’s boy. Sure he loves his dad even if hes too hard on him, But his mother was always good to him and he knew for a fact she would always love him no matter what. It was already mentioned that after their disappearances everyone just thought they ran away and left town until finding a body. It starts with devastation, especially with his mother. She’s in denial about it- the thought of her son killing someone just doesn’t seem real. Then him just suddenly disappearing, absolutely no traces to be found, she’s heartbroken. She blames herself for that night. Drinking so carelessly. Not getting up from the couch. Not stopping him at that doorway. She can’t help but blame herself, she feels like she failed as a mother. Then ontop of that her husband blames her too. I figure their fighting would escalate after the disappearance of their son, probably leading to a divorce or Joey’s mother dying from heartbreak. We haven’t really decided yet.

Yeah so I really dont have a grasp on designs for Julies parents. Well, pretty much everyones parents. I want to make sure I get that 90′s feel to their designs so i gotta tinker with it. But I Just… haven’t got around to it. On the other hand, Julie’s relationship with her parents is just a typical teen thing. She was their little sweet pea until highschool came around. Julie used to be the kid they were proud of showing off. A straight A student who played a bunch of sports, with a sweet simple girl personality,popular. But highschool changed that. In a way, Frank changed that. Her grades started dropping, all her relationships with her friends fell apart, personality did a complete 180. In a way, her parents were pretty disappointed in the path she chose. Instead of trying to talk things through, they became a little more pushy with her. Trying to push her back to sports; mother trying to get her into cheer leading, signing her up for tutoring and what not. And of course this interfered with their relationship.I would say there were alot of arguments between her and her mother. Her father though was more on the sidelines about things. Yes he was disappointed on how she turned out to be, but getting between her and her mother wasn’t something he was interested into doing. He’s more silent about his disappointment, but spoke loudly through his actions. For instance, barely being able to look at his daughter, Or even talk to her at the dinner table kind of thing. Julie didn’t really mind, or at least showed that she didnt care. If anything, Her families actions pushed her more into her impulsive actions. Then when shes gone, they’re both devastated. They both blame eachother for her disappearance at first until the body showed up. They go through a range of emotions. Shock, anger, betrayal, disappointment. They would have never thought their own daughter would do something like that, but knowing the type of person Frank is, they could believe she could be behind the murder along with Frank. Although it upsets them that their daughter is probably behind the murder, they pray one day they could just hold their daughter one last time.

As for Susie, Her relationship with her parents isn’t bad. She isn’t angsty, She doesn’t fight with her parents, and she tries her best to be a good daughter. Of course the group interferes with her for being an honest good hearted child, but the group doesn’t interfere with her relationship with her parents. We feel as though Susie and her family had a strong bond, they get their ups and downs but they only grow a stronger relationship. As stated before, Susie’s mother is extremely protective of her- practically all of her children. With being protective, she is also supportive of Susie and her dreams. She works hard to help Susie pursue her dreams of going to college for arts and encourages her heavily on her projects. Susie loves her mom, and admires her hardworking self, along with her father. We cant really see any complications about her and her fathers relationship other than him not understanding why she would want to go to school for art. They bicker about it at times but its nothing to big to ruin their relationship. I’ve already talked about Susie’s relationship with her siblings- Since they’re so young she cant really hate them. Kids are just obnoxious, and theres no stopping that. Obnoxious or not, she still loves them; even though they might steal her stuff, ask her millions of questions, or argues over control for the TV. She would protect her siblings with her life, and to the same with her from her siblings. But when she’s gone, they don’t understand. They don’t understand why their parents are crying, making thousands of calls desperately asking for more information on their daughter. It only leads to more confusion when their parents just turn silent about the situation, they won’t bring it up around them. Their parents won’t give them any answers- If anything, their parents probably lied to them and made up some story that Susie finally went off to college to at least leave some positive image of her behind. Now to get more into their parents reactions, of course they’re upset. They would never think she would just suddenly disappear like that, especially knowing that her relationship with the group isnt that strong. (at least with Frank.) They know for a fact she loves Julie with all her heart, and would be willing to do literally anything or her. They first come to the conclusion that maybe she was kidnapped, or possibly lost. With scarce information, their questions were answered with the murder of the janitor with multiple stab wounds. They couldn’t accept it, they couldn’t accept the fact that Susie would do something like this or that she would disappear so willingly. They automatically put the blame on Frank and Julie for her disappearance, unwilling to accept the fact she would do such a thing or even accept the fact she would just disappear so abruptly.

Then there’s Frank. He’s just a sad story with a sad ending. A nobody ending as a nobody. His parents gave him up, his foster dad didn’t even care about him when he was around. We don’t really think his foster father would care if he was even gone. Maybe even glad. It would be no surprise to anyone if he was the one behind the murder in the first place or the disappearance. Everyone knew the type of person Frank was, and everyone in the right mindset knew to stay away from him. There’s really not much to tell for him.

#sorry this might be really jumbled my brain is fried #this is not proof read either so IM SO SORRY LMAO #mod knives #exposed status.

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helaintoloki · 3 years

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Meet the Family

pairing: Pietro Peter Maximoff x fem!reader

warnings: angst, manipulation, reader is a Westview hostage controlled by Wanda, etc., 2.5k in length

notes: writing a piece that takes place in the WandaVision universe was such a challenging and fun experience, and I really tried to capture the same dark undertones of the show so I hope you enjoy!

summary: An innocent family dinner with Pietro’s new girlfriend reveals that life in Westview is not what it seems. Uncle Pietro introduces y/n to the family!

Y/n almost feels like she’s being watched as the warm hand of her boyfriend— since when do I have a boyfriend?— carefully guides her trembling figure up the front steps of his sister’s house and rings the doorbell. Her grip on the glass dish of brownies in her hands is so impossibly tight she fears she might just break it, and when the silver haired man swoops down to steal a kiss from her cherry gloss stained lips she can’t help but to feel nauseated. The sickness morphs into guilt immediately, and when he looks down upon her with a gaze so tender and fond she forces herself to bat her eyes and smile at him. What kind of girlfriend is horrible enough to be disgusted by a kiss from her own boyfriend? Something isn’t right here...

“Don’t even sweat it, babe, my little sis is going to love you!” Pietro comforts with an easygoing grin plastered on his features.

“I hope so,” y/n murmurs quietly, nervously chewing at her bottom lip. This is the audition, her one shot at impressing the boss, and if even one tiny minuscule detail is thrown out of place then there goes her new house and fancy wardrobe and y/n is written out of the show. Permanently.

“My girlfriend is such a worrywart,” he laughs fondly with a gentle pinch of her cheek. It’s as if a switch is flipped inside of her, and this time when she smiles at him it is genuine and full of unadulterated love.

“I just want everything to be perfect, I know how much this means to you,” she replies earnestly, too dazed to notice the soft aww that drifts through the air from the audience. Pietro smiles.

“Man, did I luck out on finding the most perfect girl in the world or what?”

“Well us being together certainly isn’t a coincidence,” she notes with a small smile. The uneasiness begins to wash over her again, but y/n isn’t given a chance to dwell on the feeling as the front door swings open and a vibrant looking young woman stands in the doorway, almost beaming at the two with pure glee.

“Thank goodness you made it!” She exclaims, hand delicately resting on her chest to showcase her relief before she pulls the stranger her brother into a hug.

“Like we’d really miss Sunday dinner,” Pietro jokes before pressing a chaste kiss to his sister’s cheek. His hand returns to the small of y/n’s back and the fond smile pulls at his lips again. “Wanda, I’d like to introduce you to a very special little lady, my girlfriend y/n.”

“Oh, she’s very special indeed,” Wanda notes with an overzealous wink, ignoring the way in which the brownie dish begins to tremble in the poor girl’s hands. Just a little stage fright, that’s all. “It’s very nice to meet you, y/n. I’m Wanda.”

“It’s an honor to meet you,” the girl replies earnestly, “Pietro has told me so much about you.”

“Well aren’t you sweet! Please, come in,” Wanda grins, ushering the two inside before shutting the door. “Boys, Uncle Pietro is here!”

“What a lovely place you have,” y/n compliments. Her eyes scan the perfectly decorated home in wonder, awe, and a third thing she can’t quite place for if she dwells on it for too long her head begins to ache and her surroundings begin to grow fuzzy.

“Oh, please, it’s just a little something I threw together,” she jokes, canned laughter echoing distantly in the background of y/n’s mind.

“Uncle Pietro!” Two voices exclaim, and y/n watches curiously as her boyfriend lets out an ecstatic laugh before rushing forward to scoop the twin boys in his arms.

“If it isn’t my favorite little trouble makers!” He grins, making sure to ruffle both heads of hair. “Billy, Tommy, say hi to your aunt y/n.”

“Hi, aunt y/n,” Billy greets politely. Tommy is at her side in an instant, movements so quick y/n can’t help but to let out a startled yelp as he lunges for the dish in her hands.

“Are those brownies?!”

“Tommy, where are your manners?” Wanda chides gently, shaking her head with a laugh and reaching for the pastries. “Boys will be boys. I’ll take these off your hands.”

“Oh, uh, yes, thank you...” y/n murmurs softly, brows stitched together in discomfort.

“You’ll have to excuse my husband’s absence, another late night at the office. You know how it is, don’t you?”

“I can’t say I do.”

“Hmm... Well, make yourself comfortable. Dinner will be ready soon, I’ll just go put these in the kitchen.”

“Oh, do you need any h-“

“No,” Wanda blurts out abruptly, startling everyone in the room. She plasters on a smile, “No thank you. How can I be a good hostess if my guest is doing all the work for me?”

“You’re right, I’m so sorry,” y/n flounders, panic clear amongst her features. “I-I didn’t mean to impose at all.”

“No apologies,” the woman murmurs quietly, a small smile on her lips and an admonitory glimmer in her eyes, “we’re going to have a nice family dinner, and everything is going to be just perfect.”

The tension in the air is suffocating, wrapping itself in a slow growing hold around y/n’s neck. Her eyes begin to water, bottom lip quivering in fear as she looks around the room that suddenly feels too big and too bright. She doesn’t belong here with these people, something is wrong, the man she came here with is not hers, and as Wanda’s figure retreats behind the kitchen door y/n makes a mad dash towards the nearest exit.

“Whoa!” Pietro exclaims with an uneasy laugh, and in a blue flash she suddenly finds herself being scooped up off her feet and tossed back down on the couch in between the apprehensive twins faster than her fried brain can even comprehend. “Not so fast there, missy. Just where do you think you’re going?”

“I... I don’t feel right,” the young woman murmurs, wincing at the uncomfortable dryness of her throat as she swallows. “I want to go home and lie down.”

“Don’t be like that, babe,” he chides with a disappointed frown, “this is my family.”

“But what about my family?” Y/n whispers, tears welling in her eyes as she realizes that whenever she attempts to picture the life she once lived not a single thing comes to mind. “I don’t have a family.”

“This is your family now. We talked about this, remember? We came to Westview to make Wanda happy, and you don’t want to upset her, do you?”

“No,” she replies meekly, shuddering when the calloused pad of his thumb swipes across her warm cheek to remove any evidence of tears. No, I don’t want to make her unhappy, because if I do then I’m written off the show and I don’t know what will happen to me if I am. “I want to spend time with my new family.”

“Atta girl,” Pietro grins as he cups her face with both hands and brings her in for a kiss.

“Yuck!” Tommy exclaims in disgust from beside the couple, and this time y/n can’t help the bubbly laughter that escapes her at the young boy’s antics. Any memory of her previous meltdown is quickly wiped from her mind, and all she can think of now is how utterly grateful she is to be loved by such a wonderful man and be taken in by his wonderful family.

She pulls Pietro in for another kiss and giggles uncontrollably when he responds by tickling her sides, all while Wanda watches carefully from behind the scenes.

~~~

“Dream of better lives, the kind which never hate. Trapped in a state of imaginary grace.”

Her voice is quiet and serene as she hums along to the Modern English song playing on the radio, a content smile on her face as she washes the dishes leftover from dinner. It was the least she could do after the lovely evening Wanda had hosted; her sister-in-law had been called upon by the neighbor Agnes for a task that hadn’t quite been specified, so y/n was happy to tidy up while her boyfriend spent quality time with the boys. She couldn’t remember the last time she had felt as happy and content as she did now— she couldn’t remember anything, really— and y/n knew then and there that moving to Westview with Pietro had been the right decision for the family, for his sister and themselves, and for the children, too. Yes, everything was just peachy keen.

The kitchen door swings open and in walks a man y/n has never seen before. He looks just as surprised as she is when their eyes meet, an awkward smile on his red face and the morning paper in his hands, and y/n slowly drops the dish she had been washing back into the sink.

“Hello,” the man greets curtly, “I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure of meeting before.”

“I’m afraid not,” y/n agrees with a bashful smile, quickly removing her rubber gloves so that she may extend her hand towards him for a shake, “I’m y/n, Pietro’s girlfriend.”

“Ah, yes...” he murmurs lowly, cautiously shaking her hand and sizing the woman up and down until she shrinks under his gaze. He means her no harm, but he isn’t sure whether or not she’s part of this cooky little play or just another victim cast under Wanda’s spell. He smiles suddenly, the gesture startling the girl. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, I’m Vision.”

“Oh, yes! Of course. It’s so nice to finally meet you.”

“May I ask where my wife is?” Vision asks.

“She went off to the neighbor’s,” y/n explains before promptly returning to her dish washing. The radio sounds distant and warbled now, the song she had been singing along to now nothing but static and jumbled up syllables, but to Vision’s dismay she doesn’t seem to notice in the slightest.

“How are you enjoying Westview?”

“I’m having the best time. Pietro and I have been talking and we might just have to hunker down in our own little place,” she says with a giggle. “It would be nice to be closer to you all.”

“I must say, having you and Pietro here was quite the surprise.”

“Not a bad one I hope,” she frowns. Vision guiltily refuses to meet her gaze.

“No, not at all. But, might I ask how you two came to be?” Vision asks apprehensively, adding on so that she doesn’t feel cornered, “I’m sure it must be a lovely story.”

“Oh, yes! I remember it like it was yesterday,” y/n swoons dreamily, a fond smile plastered on her face and her gaze casted out towards the living room where Pietro sits playing video games with the boys. She blinks once, twice, eyes never once leaving the silver haired stranger in the couch. A pregnant pause hovers over the two, the porcelain plate trembles in her hands, and Vision watches in silent horror as her eyes begin to well with tears.

“Y/n?” He calls gently, fingertips carefully brushing against her elbow in an attempt to bring her focus back to him. He removes the plate from her iron grip and sets it back carefully in the sink before turning the girl by the shoulders to face him; she still wears that same adoring smile despite the tears that silently fall down her cheeks.

“Forgive me,” she murmurs quietly, “I can’t seem to gather my thoughts properly.”

“Who did this to you? Was it Wanda? Pietro?” Vision press urgently. Y/n sways slightly when he shakes her by the shoulders in a desperate attempt to break her from her trance but still her smile remains.

“Pietro? Oh, he loves me, and I love him.”

“My dear, I don’t think you do,” the man utters sympathetically.

“Of course I do, silly. We were made for each other.”

“Perhaps you were, but not in the way you think. Y/n-“

“Please let go,” she interrupts in a soft, steady voice, looking up at him like a scorned child, “you’re scaring me.”

“If you would just let me,” Vision begins to say, fingertips reaching for her temple in preparation to break her from the spell only to be interrupted by another presence in the room.

“Whoa, what’s going on in here?” Pietro asks with a raised brow and uneasy laugh. “Hey toaster oven, you mind maybe letting go of my girlfriend?”

“Of course, my apologies,” Vision murmurs, stepping away from the girl and allowing her to run into the arms of her boyfriend.

“You okay, babe?” He asks with a raised brow. She isn’t, not in the slightest, but she has a job to do and a role to play, so she merely bats her eyes at him before leaning up and pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Never been better. Hey, how does dessert sound?”

“I think that sounds lovely,” Wanda chimes, her sudden appearance in the kitchen doorway startling the already present trio. Vision looks like a deer caught in headlights when Wanda saunters over and gifts him with an innocent kiss to the cheek. “Why don’t you and Pietro get the boys settled down while y/n and I prepare the dessert?”

“What a lovely idea, darling,” Vision chimes with an easy smile— y/n isn’t the only one with a role to play. “Come now, dear brother-in-law.”

“Take good care of my girl, little sis,” Pietro calls on his way out. Wanda smiles, her eyes never once leaving y/n’s trembling frame.

“But of course. What is family for? Y/n, be a dear and grab the plates, won’t you?”

“Yes, Wanda,” the girl chimes obediently. She smiles.

“I noticed you seemed a little shaken up just now, is everything alright?” Wanda asks, feigning obliviousness.

“Oh, you know, just some friendly questioning from my new brother-in-law. I’m sure he just wanted to make sure Pietro had found the right match,” she explains with a passive wave of her hand. Wanda hums softly.

“Well we don’t need to worry about that,” she notes. “You’re here for a reason, y/n. Do you know that?”

“For Pietro, and for you,” she replies earnestly, smiling when Wanda takes her hands in her own and gives them a gentle squeeze. “You’ve always wanted a big family, a real family, one that would never turn its back on you or leave you behind ever again. You want a sister and nieces and nephews and love, and I’m here because I can do all of that and more for you.”

“Exactly right. Family is forever, y/n. Are you ready for the commitment that comes with being a Maximoff?”

“I’ve never been more ready,” y/n responds eagerly. Wanda smiles.

“I’m so relieved you said that,” she utters gently, pulling y/n in for a hug so that she may not see the way in which her eyes begin to glow red and waves of energy begin to emit from her fingertips as she carefully settles herself fully into the girl’s mind. She fills her head with thoughts of Pietro and family, with memories she’s never lived and feelings she’s never had, she fills her with love, and y/n is none the wiser.

“Congratulations, y/n,” Wanda utters quietly, comfortingly stroking the girl’s hair, “you’re a Maximoff now.”

#wandavision spoilers #wandavision #peter maximoff #pietro maximoff #peter maximoff x reader #pietro maximoff x reader #peter maximoff imagine #pietro maximoff imagine #quicksilver #quicksilver x reader #quicksilver imagine #wanda maximoff #vision #wanda maximoff x reader #vision x reader #marvel #mcu #mcu x reader #mcu imagine

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ghostnebula · 4 years

Text

Sincere and Dignified

“Eddie's twenty-first birthday + The entire Losers' Club + Las Vegas + Being in love with your best friend = Well, exactly what you'd expect.”

[read it on Ao3]

(or here)

Eddie’s birthday is in November. Which makes him the youngest member of the Losers’ Club. Which makes him the last Loser to turn twenty-one.

Which means they go all-out to celebrate, since it’s the first time they can all (legally) celebrate together. And because they’ve kind of forgone “proper” twenty-first birthday festivities for everyone else, so no one would ever feel left out. Finally, no one needs to be left out of it.

They’ve all been living together for over three years now, they’re all getting close to graduating from college, and they all saved up for this one, because this is pretty much it. The last big, fun, tangible milestone in their young lives. The last “new” thing they’re earning the right to do (legally) after driving and voting. You bet your ass they go ham on Eddie’s birthday plans.

That’s how they end up in Vegas. Several long weeks of planning, lots of money they scraped together into jars over the last few years ready to be spent, checking and double-checking every class syllabus to make sure no one misses anything important on Friday (they have to be at their hotel in time for check-in or, between Stan and Eddie, someone will pitch a fit). Then they’re all piling into Ben’s station wagon with as little luggage as they could manage to bring for a weekend trip (the station wagon is “spacious”; it is not a fucking miracle vehicle).

Roughly ten hours later (five hours for driving, two for check-in plus cramming all their crap into the motel room and then attempting to organize it, one for figuring out and agreeing on where to even start with the partying, two more for getting ready) Eddie Kaspbrak has his first legal drink as a proper twenty-one year old, on this night of November third, and there’s no aftertaste of guilt like usual. He’s got Richie pushing shots into his hands, Mike making sure he’s eating some snacks once in a while so he doesn’t get too trashed too fast, Bev directing bartenders to make the most delicious fucking drinks he thinks he’ll ever taste in his life (Porn Stars, or something else inappropriate like that).

He has Bill, the oldest, practically under oath to stay sober (at least for tonight) so there’s one semi-coherent Loser present to keep the rest of them safe and sane until he can drag them all back to the motel.

He has a wad of cash in his pocket, a chunk of his savings from the past year, ready to blow on booze and gambling and whatever the fuck he wants, because it’s his birthday, so he’s allowed to do whatever the fuck he wants.

It’s safe, and more importantly, it’s legal, and most importantly, it’s Vegas. He never thought he’d ever have the balls to set foot in a place like this -- the kind of place his mother would demonize when he was a kid. Drinking, before he left Derry and his mom and the vice grip she had on his life, was completely out of the question, let alone getting hammered in a casino in Sin City, of all fucking places, under the care of the “evil little shits” he calls his best friends.

He more than lets loose. He lets twenty-one years of virtually non-stop anxiety unwind in one night.

When he wakes up the next morning, hung over for the first time in his life, it’s almost worth it. Bill’s the only motherfucker awake already, being that he’s the only one who doesn’t have several bottles of vodka et al. to sleep off, and he’s draped across the ratty arm chair in their ratty motel room, channel-surfing with the television volume as low as it can get. The light burns Eddie’s eyes, still, when he lifts his head and -- instead of turning, his head just kind of lolls on his shoulders until he can look at Bill properly.

He wants to ask him to end his suffering, which he can only assume he has yet to see the worst of. Suddenly he understands why aspirin exists. He wants Bill to pump him full of painkillers until he stops feeling like he’s made of electrified cotton. Instead, he says, articulately, “Guh.”

Bill turns his attention from Scooby-Doo to where Eddie is half-lying, trapped under the weight of Richie’s arm and half his chest. Richie is snoring away, glasses askew on his face, a cooling puddle of drool soaking Eddie’s shoulder. It’s gross, but he can’t really complain at this point. He’s accustomed to it by now.

“Ah, he lives.”

“Ugh,” says Eddie.

“I bet,” says Bill. “So, do you want a recap of the events of last night, or did you keep your promise and remember every life-altering decision you chose to make?”

Bill’s voice, which he’s hardly putting much effort into keeping down -- owing to the fact that all his effort is being channeled into trying not to laugh, and Eddie can’t even begin to fathom what’s so funny -- is causing the other Losers to stir. His splitting headache doesn’t want him to try to figure out what’s funny. He must have fried a metric shitload of braincells with all those Porn Stars last night, or whatever the fuck sugary booze Bev was pouring down his throat before everything went hazy.

“Life-altering?” he repeats after a few moments, as Richie’s arm finally stops crushing him. It’s the only word that really stands out to him in the jumbled mess of hangover discomfort his brain is fighting, and it should cause him anxiety but he’s more worried, right now, about drinking some water. Richie sits up beside him, yawning.

Bill hums. He looks terribly pleased with himself, which can be good or bad depending which side of the story you’re on, and Eddie’s got this sneaking suspicion he’s on the wrong side, here. “Yeah, that life-altering thing I tried to talk you two dipshits out of for longer than the actual ceremony took?”

“Ceremony?” Eddie asks, trying to feel back through his poor, poor brain to remember anything after slot machines and vibrant chatter and deceptively sweet beverages being passed to him. Richie’s head drops onto his shoulder as his arms wrap around Eddie’s waist. “Guh,” he says into the fabric of Eddie’s rumpled shirt. Habitually, Eddie reaches up to pat him consolingly on the head. Richie’s not one for mornings.

“Why don’t you take a look at your ring finger, birthday boy?” Bill says, but Eddie’s already frozen, because there was a flash when he raised his hand and he’s not entirely sure he’s believing what he’s seeing, and where the fuck did he even get the ring anyway, let alone a ring as nice as this? “Or, sorry, I should say: Mr. Tozier?”

Eddie... mostly ignores him, in favour of smacking Richie a few times on the skull to get his attention, hangovers be damned. “Richie,” he hisses, heart going a mile a minute. “The fuck did I do?”

Richie grumbles some kind of complaint, lifting his head from its safe space on Eddie’s shoulder, and when he follows Eddie’s gaze he lets out a kind of... laugh? More of a squawk, really. His left arm jerks off of Eddie’s waist lightning-quick, and then he’s holding up his own hand beside Eddie’s to show off their matching rings. “Oh my god,” he says, quiet (for Richie). A little bit of tension melts out of him. Then, “I think you mean, ‘the fuck did we do?’”

“Oh my god,” Eddie squeaks, and Bill loses his battle and dissolves into peals of laughter, remote slipping out of his hands and landing somewhere on the floor. “Bill, you were supposed to be babysitting.”

It takes a while, but Bill manages to regain his composure long enough to say, “Well forgive me, but you were a man on a mission. I distinctly remember a lot of, ‘we’re practically dating anyway’ and ‘no time like the present’ and ‘Bill, if you don’t step the fuck off I’m gonna shove this ring so far up your nostril you’ll be sneezing gold until you’re ninety.’ What was I gonna do about it?”

“Oh my god,” Eddie says again, red-faced, mortified, heart still going-going-going. They aren’t dating, though, is the problem, and yeah, he’s always had this stupid little idea in his stupid little head that they might as well be, but he’s never asked, because he wasn’t sure if he should. Wasn’t sure if it was safe. Wasn’t sure if Richie wanted something proper or to just stay very, very close friends until the grave. They weren’t dating, and now they’re married, and ohJesusMaryandJoseph why did he let himself get so drunk last night?

He doesn’t expect Richie to be resentful or anything, but he’s also an anxious mess by default, and post-drunken-haze Eddie is a different, apparently less chill person than mid-drunken-haze Eddie, because he doesn’t remember having this freakout last night.

He doesn’t think that Richie will be pissed about it, necessarily, but he’s terrified that Richie’s going to want to... undo this, somehow.

He expects regret.

He doesn’t expect Richie to slide his hand against Eddie’s so that their rings clack together, letting out a soft little, “Aw,” as he does so, or to press his scratchy, stubbly face against Eddie’s cheek to plant a kiss there, or to say, just as quiet and soft as ever, “We’re married, Eds.”

“Is that okay?” Eddie asks, heart in his throat, wondering if he somehow forced Richie into this when he wasn’t in full control of his faculties.

“More than okay,” Richie says. “Is it okay with you?”

Eddie nods dumbly, staring at their rings again, wondering what the fuck possessed them to make such a rash, life-altering decision like this, yet understanding all too well that his love for Richie is too big to contain and it has to spill out in little doses like this, or it’ll probably kill him, or make him go crazy. “Yeah,” he says finally, nodding perhaps too fast. “Yeah, Richie, it’s more than okay.”

He turns in Richie’s arms to kiss him properly, apparently not for the first time, and just the action brings a couple snippets of last night’s escapades abruptly to the surface.

“$25 Weddings,” a pink neon sign outside a squat white chapel proclaims, “Sincere and Dignified.” And below that, in smaller, baby blue lettering: “Can provide: Flowers, Rings, Witnesses, Transportation, Attire...” The list goes on. It’s a wonder Eddie is coherent enough to read it, let alone comprehend it, but he’s rounding on Richie, whose arm he’s hanging off of, with the best fucking idea already leaping from his lips.

“Ffffffuck Kaspbrak,” Eddie slurs as a reluctant Bill helps him slip on a suit jacket, fiddling with the purple clip-on bowtie Richie threw over the divider at him. “Fuck Kaspbrak, right, Rich?”

“Right,” Richie says enthusiastically -- probably too enthusiastically -- from the other side of the thin wooden divider that separates their “changing rooms.”

“Fuck that name,” Eddie decides, nodding to himself. Bill takes the bowtie out of his hands with a sigh, and Eddie lifts his chin to let Bill fasten it to his shirt, grumbling all the while about how stupid they both are. “And fuck my mom.”

“Fuck your mom!” Richie shouts. There’s a beat of relative quiet, then, “Not, like, fuck your mom, obviously. Fuck... you, maybe?” And then Bev’s raucous laughter echoes through the whole room.

Eddie can’t help laughing with her, even though Bill’s insisting he stay still “so you can at least look semi-presentable for your pictures, c’mon, Eddie, this is a big moment for me, too.”

“How are you the bridezilla, here, Bill?”

“Could you please just work with me here, I swear to-- agh!” (More laughter from Bev. Stan saying something incomprehensible but loud and boisterous. Mike trying to shush them.) “I’m just trying to make sure this is actually special since you absolute buffoons refuse to just wait and do this right.” Is Bill fucking crying?

Richie’s tongue down Eddie’s throat, over and over and over: in the chapel; in a bar; in front of the bar; just before Bill drags them away from the casino they’re trying to sneak back into and instead towards the station wagon he’s doing his best to herd the Losers to; in the station wagon; in front of the motel.

Bill prying them apart with minimal assistance from a piss-drunk Ben who insists he’s “helping,” telling them once again that they are not allowed to consummate their fucking marriage in public, and especially not allowed to do it in the motel room all seven of them have to sleep in--

He hears Bev’s little “aww” behind him somewhere as he and Richie break apart, and Stan’s grief about how fucking early it is “for this shit.” Eddie can hear something like a smile in his voice, if not just plain old amusement.

“We’re married, Rich,” Eddie repeats incredulously, and Bill is saying something about their marriage license in his wallet because neither of them can be trusted, but Eddie couldn’t care less about licenses or whatever, because Richie’s smiling down at him in that way that makes his heart feel too full. And he doesn’t mean to, but a choked noise bubbles up out of him, almost a sob, maybe a laugh. Tears burn in his eyes.

But that’s alright, because Richie’s crying already, and he wraps himself bodily around Eddie, rolling them over so he’s squishing him into the mattress while he kisses all over his face and his throat until Eddie’s squealing with laughter despite his agonizing hangover. He almost feels too good to care about it now, but he’s definitely getting some water and painkillers into his system the second the weird high he’s feeling subsides.

“Okay, okay,” says Stan, standing above them suddenly, swatting at Richie’s shoulders. “You’ve had your fun. Noisy assholes. We were too drunk for proper congratulations last night. Move over.”

All the Losers squeeze themselves onto the queen bed, somehow, and water bottles and aspirin get passed around. At some point Bill gets up to start the coffeemaker and comes back with (good fucking lord) their “wedding photos” in a crisp manila envelope. They’re just as gaudy as he expected. Leave it to Richie to find the ugliest possible outfit for his literal wedding.

Eddie gets hugs and shoulder-squeezes and cheek-kisses from everyone, over and over, and Bev actually cries for about ten full minutes while she holds him, then at least ten more while she holds Richie, and then Ben cries, and... well, they all end up crying all over each other, but it’s awash with joy. “We’re happy for you,” they keep saying, and Eddie’s happy for them, too. He didn’t expect to accidentally do things this way, but he has to be glad it happened.

“God,” he says a while later, shaking his head as he sips sugary coffee from the mug he and Richie are sharing (this room is meant for four people, max, not seven, and is equipped accordingly). He’s still examining a picture of Richie attempting to give him a piggy-back ride out of the chapel. Bill is visible in the background, eyes red and puffy, a wad of tissues clenched in his hand while Mike tries to console him. Eddie has been making fun of him for about half an hour now. “My mom would flip if I told her about this.” But the thought doesn’t scare him. He doesn’t get scared of her anymore. Not like he used to. Not when he’s so far away and he feels so safe with these six idiots who bring so much joy to his life.

Richie’s thumb rubs over the skin of his lower back where his hand has crept up Eddie’s shirt. “Good thing you don’t have to,” he says, and that familiar mantra of “You never have to see her again,” bleeds through, plain as ever.

Eddie hums. Passes the coffee back to him. “I know. But... I kinda want to. Just to watch her head explode,” he says with a shrug and a grin, earning a chorus of easy laughter from his friends. He stares at the ring on Richie’s finger as Richie throws back the rest of their coffee, something warm and familiar blooming brighter in his chest.

#reddie #my writing #oh look i actually found time in the chaos of my life to post this #a miracle #also a fic short enough to just post the whole thing on tumblr???#a second miracle #the losers club #cw alcohol #cw gambling #vegas wedding babey

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ashintheairlikesnow · 4 years

Text

Shake: Chris and Laken

(Why do so many of Chris’s pieces end up having a title of just a single word? Huh. This is just a very smol drabble I’ve been meaning to write and is basically a present for @slaintetowhump, as is most of my Laken content let’s be honest here)

Timeline: College!Chris, early in his burgeoning relationship with Laken. I’d say first semester in college.

Tagging: @burtlederp, @finder-of-rings, @endless-whump, @whumpfigure, @stxckfxck, @slaintetowhump, @astrobly, @newandfiguringitout, @doveotions, @pretty-face-breaker

CW: Some brief references to past trauma/noncon, fucky survivor thoughts on navigating consent and relationships post-recovery, memories of conditioned thoughts around spice

“I can’t believe you’ve never tried this before,” Laken says, leaning over, so close their knees are nearly brushing his, and Chris’s eyes are caught in theirs. Dark, so dark, and ringed in black eyeliner that makes them seem even wider and darker, pools he could dip into and not ever come back from.

“I... I, I might, um, might h-have,” Chris says, his voice strained and a little rough around the edges. All the hairs on his arms and his neck have stood up, goosebumps rolling over his skin as Laken’s hand moves. “I don’t remember.”

Laken pauses, giving him that sort of thinking-look they have sometimes when he says he doesn’t remember things, or doesn’t know a movie or show or some big national thing everyone else does. Then they seem to shrug that moment off, but Chris caught the pause.

He should have pretended to know about this.

He’s just so tired sometimes of lying.

They pick up a single french fry from the plate they and Chris and are sharing, skinny as a matchstick, one of the fries not already drenched in the neon-yellow-orange cheese sauce they’d ordered. Laken smiles, top teeth just resting on their full bottom lip, and dips the fry into the chocolate milkshake with whipped cream and a cherry on top they have right in front of them.

“See? Dip, hold for one second-” Laken holds up a single finger on their other hand for emphasis, and Chris can’t help the way his own mouth stretches in a smile. “-and eat!”

They pop the french fry into their mouth, closing their eyes, and Chris loves the perfect even line of their eyeliner, the way it swoops just a little further than the corner of their eyes.

“Now you try.” Laken points back at the plate, and Chris’s eyes drop quickly down to it, his face reddened and warm at the idea that Laken caught him staring at their face. A bit of their hair has fallen into their eyes and he wants to bury his hands in the thick, curly black hair that runs over the top and back, rub his fingers into the soft, short shaved hair at the sides, wants to-

Just wants, in formless ways that go no further than the idea of what he might feel if they held him, kissed him, were near him, legs intertwined, a subtle weight against his side.

The wants are good, but under them lingers the fear of what comes after the holding. When the weight is no longer subtle but heavy, when kissing isn’t enough for them, when they want him to perform.

They wouldn’t call it that. That’s not what it’s called, out here. That he’ll lose himself again, and the next time maybe he won’t remember how to run from it first. He can’t be rescued every single time he gets in over his head, can he? He’s supposed to be able to do these things himself, now.

It was less than a year of his life, lost, they think. Nat and Jake think so, anyway.

How can less than a year of his life still hurt so much later?

“Chris?” Laken snaps their fingers in front of him and he blinks, sitting up in a sudden flinch backwards-

Pay attention, darlin’, you should always have eyes on your owner

-and catches himself just as fast, giving them a smile. “S-sorry, I, I was in my, my my-my head I guess. What, what did you say?”

-won’t repeat myself, you should have focused on me-

Laken pulls their hand back.

-what else is there for you to look at, hm?

Laken’s hand hesitates, as though they might want to reach forward instead of pulling back. He wants them to touch his face so badly and he doesn’t want to be touched at all. He wants both things.

He wants to grab at them and hold on and say please tell me I can do this and he wants to say just walk away before you find out and the sentences are so jumbled together in his brain he can’t say either at all.

The lights are making a sound, a sort of hum that he thinks Laken can’t hear but he can hear it and it drills into his ears, under the memory of Sir’s voice, slick and smooth, the sense-memory of a hand lying on the back of his neck, pressing soft leather into his spine.

Pay attention. I said-

“I said,” Laken says, softer this time, “that it’s your turn.” They hold out a fry, skinny twig potato, with only a hint of cheese sauce at one end. “Dip it in the shake, take a bite. I promise it’s amazing.”

Amazing. You really were worth every penny I paid, weren’t you?

Chris is sure he sees uncertainty in their expression, but he’s not always good at knowing what the people around him are thinking. The subtler shifts of expression that don’t contain the threat of violence he was trained to prepare for sometimes mean nothing at all to him, and between the weight of their face at the front of him and the pressure of the fluorescent lights in the diner above and behind him, that buzzing noise that no one seems to hear but him, Chris wants to run.

Get up and run, like Kauri used to run, and that feels safer than what he’s trying to do here.

The train tracks of his thoughts are scattered, unsure. He wants to get up and walk out, go somewhere dark, and remind himself that people like him weren’t ever supposed to have moments like this.

You are a pet and you’ll never be anything but-

Chris sets his jaw and tries to remember that memories can’t grab you out of the light, the buzzing is just a sound - the lights are just cheaper than any other kind - and Laken’s hand is safer than the hand in his mind.

You’ll never be anything but-

This. He can be this, instead.

He takes the fry from Laken’s fingers, lets his brush theirs just a little for the rush of electricity along his nerves, the feeling of touching lightning, and dips his fry in the shake.

Then he pops it into his mouth, and his eyes widen at the sense of cold and hot, chocolate ice cream and fried potato, salt and sweet. He picks another fry up and tries it again.

Laken laughs, sitting back and clapping their hands, ducking their head slightly. “See! You like it! Didn’t I tell you?”

“You, you, you-you you did, you told me,” Chris smiles at them around the french fry still sticking out of his mouth, prompting another peal of laughter, catching the eyes of people in the other booths in the diner. Chris would sink into himself, except he realizes after a second that the older couple looking at them is smiling, watching Laken laugh.

So he starts to smile again, too.

“Great.” Laken picks up a long-handled spoon, dipping it into the whipped cream and picking the bright-red, fire-engine-colored cherry off the table. “You want my cherry?” They start to giggle, blushing themself, and Chris just blinks, not understanding this joke, either.

There are so many jokes he doesn’t understand but he smiles along with anyway.

“I’m kidding, I’m just-... sorry, being out with you makes me kind of nervous, and I’m just covering it by being ridiculous,” Laken says, sighing, eating the bite of whipped cream and the cherry themself. “I really am sorry, Chris.”

“You, um... you, you, you-you... you’re nervous?” Chris asks, voice low. That... he can’t have heard that right.

“Uh, yeah, of course I am. You’re fucking gorgeous and you dating me... it’s a lot. You know? You make me really nervous.” Laken hesitates, swirls their spoon around in their milkshake without looking up. “Like I’m going to fuck this up for sure.”

“Me, um, me-me... me me me, me-... wait, my words, um-” Chris groans, reaching for the black bracelet he always wears on one wrist, pushing the little metal circles wound into the heavy nylon rope to focus on the press of an edge against his finger, the way they spin against his skin. “I’m... I’m nervous, too.”

“Are you?” Laken cocks their head, and there’s that hair again, falling over one eye. “Well, I guess we’re both nervous, so that cancels us out, right?”

Chris takes a breath, reaches out, and brushes the bit of hair from over their eye, watching Laken’s smile grow and change, become softer and warmer all at once, as they look up at him.

This look, he knows. The I want you look. He’s given himself, practiced and performed, with a smile that never reached his eyes.

Laken’s eyes, though, are warm. He’ll fall in.

“I, I, I think I’m too weird for, um, for you,” Chris says, finally, hesitantly.

Laken grabs his hand in theirs, twining fingers warm around his chillier ones, and kisses the back of his hand. “Not possible.”

“No, really-”

Laken shakes their head, pulling his hand to rest his knuckles against their cheek and his voice is caught in his throat, then. It’s lost somewhere in the look on Laken’s face. He can’t quite remember how words work, but he’s pretty sure he doesn’t have to.

“No.” Laken says the word soft as can be. Chris thinks of the way it felt to pet the kitten when Ruth’s stray cat had a litter. “Really. You’re not too weird for me, Chris. I want this to be our first date, not... not the last one. Yeah?”

Chris breathes in and out. His hand is on fire with sparks from Laken’s touch.

He wants, all those things that feel safe. The holding, the kissing, the things that go no further. He has no idea how to ask.

“... right,” He says, finally. “First date, not, not, not-not last date.”

“Perfect.” Laken kisses the back of his hand and then gives it back to him, but he kind of hopes they’ll just keep his hand forever, it can be all theirs, whatever, just keep smiling like this and he’ll give them anything they want. “So. Next fry?”

They pick one up.

Chris picks a fry up, too.

They dip their fries into the milkshake in unison, and Chris can’t think of anything but how gorgeous Laken looks in the awful fluorescent light.

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lampmeeting · 4 years

Note

I need to know about what influences you to write/draw Magnus and Toki the way you do! 8O Your art is such an inspiration and I think yours was the fic that finally pushed me into Hammertooth hell. XD

ahhhh that’s sweet of you!! :’) sorry you’re in this hell, though. and sorry there’s no escape kdfjgh

i’ll put this under a cut bc it’s not long but it’s just, well, i guess long enough haha

the two of them together are just.... man, what can i say. their relationship is so comforting to me, just like i imagine it is for them eventually (after a rocky start haha)

as far as art goes, i like drawing them in scenes that put magnus either at a disadvantage or in a position that makes him feel uncomfortable/anxious. but i still always want the vibe to be loving, because even though magnus might be sweating, toki’s right there for him. i think in art i tend to portray toki a little more aggressively, which i’d love to eventually incorporate into my fics. and i love amping up their physical differences. :3 toki is JACKED and a little shorter. magnus is a tall-ass rake with a coat on it dfkjgdf... it’s just fun for me to do since my other ship is two short shorties with less differing body types (though pickles i hc with a lil pot belly and toned arms/legs and charles is muscular and compact like corned beef, but with some softness around the edges i think).

writing them... ahhhhhh this is where my head jumbles into various screams of delight. if you read sourbat’s post about their hammertooth dynamic, my feelings fall in line very close to that (plus it’s just so eloquently-stated). i really enjoy playing in the immediate post-doomstar space (like the first couple years of it) because i know what that kind of codependent relationship is like, and i know that people are absolutely capable of growing and changing with each other for the better, even if it’s a slow progress.

like most Magnus People, i feel like i tend to project parts of myself into him in order to make sense of him and flesh him out. and then eventually i realized i was starting to do the same to toki, so sometimes it feels like writing them is just a conversation between my better angels and my worst demons hahaha like not to get ~super personal~ or anything but magnus gets to play with my forever-ignored depression and rejection-sensitive dysphoria, and toki gets my “if i don’t think about the problem or talk about it or look at it then it doesn’t exist and it’s fine” mentality so YEAH UHHH writing them together is really fun haha, but i also don’t mean that sarcastically it really is legitimately fun! because i also like playing with toki’s optimism and his capacity for love, and magnus can be really sweet and gentle when he tries (and god damn does he try) i could talk about them forever but my brain is starting to get fried from all this introspection @__@

#thank yoouuuuu hopefully this made sense!!!#thejollybeardcollection

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lideria · 4 years

Text

Give Me a Few. | Johnny

Request: hi hi can you write smtg with johnny? like anything hhhh im soft for the man

Author’s Note: I miss school. Yes, that might be a crime but hear me out: this quarantine’s got me missing school and having crises over assignments and quizzes and tests, which is crazy to me. So, this shall be a college fic.

Warnings: A few swear words and a little anxiety. English is my second language so there might be errors + my brain is pushing a writer’s block on me but I won’t let it so there might be some complications with the flow loves I’m sorry.

Word Count: 1.752 IT’S SHORT.

Genre: Fluff, Angst if you like squint really hard, college!au, platonicfriends!au

Hope everyone who reads it enjoys!! 💚Have a lovely time, and good night for me lol

“The fuck?”

Johnny’s head bolts up at the frustrated question. He sees you hunched over the printed papers with your mechanical pencil in your hand and your phone in the other, scrunched eyebrows looking at the white surface scribbled all over with equations and formulas. The desk has eraser dust all over it, all from the past few hours of tussling with questions he thought must simply be too difficult. “That doesn’t make any sense, you sure that’s right?”

He can hear the faint “Dude yes, I used the calculator.” of your friend on the other end of the line, and sees your hand spring up to your temple, rubbing the spot as you let out a sigh. Shortly after, though, the mechanical pen comes back in contact with the paper. “Okay okay. Just guide me through that one more time please.”

Your friend cleans their throat so clearly Johnny can hear it, and with that he returns to his own share of notes. He is much more relaxed than you are since he has left his fair share of difficult examinations behind, and although he has a lot more memorizing to do still, it is whatever. Just two more to go.

It takes a few minutes for your friend to go over everything they had just told you, with you writing the formulas and equations down step by step, circling the ones you deemed important. You thank your friend for helping before hanging up.

Which is when the mechanical pencil is thrown out of your hand and onto the desk. “I’m gonna fail this final so bad,” You whine out. “Why make the course mandatory if half the faculty doesn’t even get it?” Leaned back on the chair, you rub your eyes with your fists. There is nothing more you want other than being done with the finals already and to never have to be acquainted with this course ever again— but you also have to pass it in order for that to become true.

“Should I just help?” Johnny suggests, his own studies long forgotten at that point. Not that he had been doing a particularly good job at focusing on them.

He sees you hunch back over the desk, looking at him with your hands tiredly placed on your cheeks. “Hasn’t it been like.. 2 semesters since you’ve taken this? Plus, you have a test tomorrow.”

Johnny clicks his tongue. “It’s history anyway— I couldn’t care less, it’s easy. Multiple choice.” Shutting his notebook close (which still amazes you how he can take notes by hand of a class like history where it is dominantly lecture material that matters), he stands up and instead takes a seat on the chair beside yours. “I’d rather struggle with formulas than read about every revolution there ever was.”

“Easy to say when you ace tests without studying for them.” You mumble, which makes Johnny smile. He could not protest that because it was true. He was a good listener during class, which helped him tons with assignments, which in turn helped him not forget the class material. The only type of courses that truly got to him were the ones where most things are dependent on discussions, arguments or debates where he needed to improvise. Not because he is bad at any of them, just because he is the type to take problems more subjectively rather than objectively.

Johnny tells you to take a breather for a few minutes while he tries to get what is going on in the question. You see this as an opportunity to take a few sips from your sugary drink that is supposed to get you through this night’s study session that is sure to become an all nighter considering you still have a couple of pages to work out. Then you check your phone, scrolling through your social media for a little, until Johnny’s hand lightly lands on your forearm. “I think I figured it out.”

“You did?” The question sounds more hopeful than it should have. “Mhm,” His eyes land on your phone momentarily before he continues speaking. “Let’s have dinner first, though.”

For you to agree he almost has to literally drag you outside of the study room the two of you had occupied, but he manages to bring you out by wrapping his arms around your shoulders and waddling his way out until the door closes and locks behind you. The two of you then make your way to the cafeteria just because you could not be bothered with making any food or asking for delivery.

While you eat, Johnny tells you he is almost sure you could not get the question because your brain was fried rather than being unable to do it. Although not knowing if it is true or not you are thankful that he says it, because it gives you a motivational boost.

Both because you are hungry and because you really need all the studying you can get, you hurry up eating— barely even tasting the food before you leave to get back to the study room.

When you are back both of you immediately go back to your seats, putting your phones on flight mode before abandoning them at the far end of the desk. Johnny takes your mechanical pencil and eraser, erasing your jotted answer before starting to re-read and rephrase the question for you. He writes down the answer step by step, making sure you truly understand everything and stopping when you need to get your head wrapped on some things.

And when he erases his writings so you can write the answer down, he gives you encouraging pats on your shoulder, letting his hand rest there as a reminder that he is there if you need to ask something.

At some point he places his chin on your shoulder as well to watch you. Not you writing your answer down, but you. “You’re being annoying right now.” You mumble, to which he chuckles slightly. “Am I?”

“You are,” Confirming the statement, you tap down at the desk. “Just look. I got the right answer this time.”

He does. The smile that spreads across his face soon after he does so makes you proud. “See, I told you it was only your overworked brain.”

With a roll of your eyes you thank him, before turning back to the many practice questions that awaited you. The questions start coming as a breeze for the first couple of hours as you gather help from your textbooks with your freshened mind. Johnny starts to play one of his many playlists with chill songs on it, reaching out for his phone to do it before also reaching out for his notebook and highlighters, returning to history out of the sheer fact that it would make him feel better if he studied while you were.

The music in the background provides a nice ambiance in the room, much more lighthearted and relaxed than how it has been for the whole study session so far. Johnny and you take turns leaving the room to walk around, partly to get some exercise and partly to delay the point where you would get sleepy.

The night seems to go by faster after you start studying for the second time. And surely after some time, you had to start leaving the study room not for short walks, but to wash your face in order to stay awake.

Letters slowly start to form a gibberish language in your mind, numbers becoming a jumble of weird lines and strokes. What really breaks all that you have left of wakefulness, though, is when Johnny starts softly humming to the songs on his never-ending playlist.

His voice is deep and strains when he is using such a low tone to hum to the songs, but it is still quite the attention catcher. You cannot help but start listening to him, and you certainly cannot help your hand that trails off of the practice questions. Within a few songs’ time, your eyes get droopy and your world gets droopy, too. But you honestly try to fight off the sleep.

Yet, sleep is much stronger than whatever is keeping you awake.

“I think I’m gonna take a nap,” The announcement comes as a surprise even to you, but you reach out for your bag and drag it until it is in front of you on the desk. “What’re you doing?” Johnny throws a soft yet questioning look at you even though it must be obvious what you are doing. “I’m gonna use it as a pillow.”

“Just lay your head on my arm,” He says as if it is nothing, and shrugs a little when you look at him with your own pair of questioning eyes. “My cardigan’s thick and soft enough to be comfortable for both you and me.”

You smile at him, and pull your bag full of books and binders aside. Reaching out for his left arm, you hold his hand lightly— even though he is fully capable of lifting his forearm to place it in front of you— and drag his arm to the space previously occupied by your bag. He returns to his notes, unbothered, and gets back to humming along to the songs.

When you place your head on his forearm you smile at the scent of his cardigan, the scent of the coffee he had had before you started studying still embedded into the fabric.

You shut your eyes that do not have the motivation to fight off the sweet invitation of sleep. And if anybody ever asked you, you would say you fell asleep before Johnny finished the line he was humming to.

And if anybody ever asked you, it was the one of the best (and deepest) sleeps you had; your face engulfed in him and his cardigan’s warmth, your arms closed around his forearm, hunched over the desk in a position that is surely going to ache your back— until there is a scratch at the top of your head and through your hair. “Hm?”

“An hour’s passed.” He whispers, his hand still in your hair. You draw his arm closer to you, nuzzling your face into the fabric. You were not the one with a test tomorrow, and you were surely not the one with a test tomorrow that you could ace with your eyes closed. “Gimme 15 minutes.”

You hear him laugh. “Okay, big baby.”

#nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct x reader #nct johnny #johnny #johnny imagines #johnny x reader #nct #nct 127 #mmmmm me like this one #mmmmmm this reminds me of someone i know in particular and my school #mmmmmm i'm making myself upset #yeah i also have a jaehyun fic that flopped so if you wanna check that out feel free to #mwah

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ramblinganthropologist · 4 years

Text

N7 Challenge - 14 (Military)

Summary: Alistair Shepard isn’t the military type. So... why’d he enlist in the Alliance anyway?

---

“Shepard... mind if I ask a question?”

Normally, questions like that made Alistair's skin crawl. However, he was currently bent over the Mako and trying to get it to work so all his thought process was focused on that. It didn't really register who or what was asking him a question until he backed up to evaluate his progress.

Then he realized it was the Normandy's only turian.

“Oh, hey Garrus.” He glanced back at the panel – still loading for twenty more minutes. That meant he had time to catch his breath after the nightmare that was Noveria. Hours later, and he still felt freezing as he pried frozen rocks out of the treads. At least any ice had long since melted.

A quick glance told him that the turian's body language registered as curious. So, that probably knocked out tactical or mission questions. If he had to guess, Garrus was about to ask something personal. For a turian, that was... odd. Definitely against the manual of interacting with someone in authority. So whatever it was, it had to be important.

He could play ball.

The turian looked around the empty room before he spoke. Then his mandibles twitched – a classic sign of turian nerves acting against him. He was curious, but uncomfortable about asking this. So it was probably important enough that Alistair backed away from the console and let it keep working.

Man, he was glad he took that turian body language course back in basic. It was saving his ass now for sure.

“What's up?”

Garrus's mandibles twitched again. “Just... you're not really the military type, are you?”

Alistair blinked at that. “Uh... I'm going to have to ask for some clarification there. What do you mean?”

Now the turian in front of him really looked uncomfortable. Had he been annoyed, the Spectre would have enjoyed it. But mostly he was just tired and cold, and he wanted to get this conversation over with so he could get back to work. His bed was calling his name, and he needed to answer it as soon as possible if wanted to stave off the post biotic headache that was currently looming behind both his eyes.

Biotics – they got you coming an going. At least he wasn't an L2 though. Man, it sucked to be Kaidan.

“Well... you're not...” Garrus mulled over his words. “Aggressive. Forward? When people look at you they don't seem to think you're a threat, even in armor.”

Yeah, that happened when you were under 5'5” and didn't really carry much muscle. Hooray for being the medic.

He held up his talons quickly though. “No offense, by the way. Just pointing out something I noticed while we were on Noveria. You don't really have a military presence about you.”

Alistair resisted an eye roll as he glanced back at the panel – 15 minutes now. “Yeah, I know. It's because I'm small and all lean muscle. Still managed to get to the end of N7 though, so I don't see why that's a problem.”

Ok, maybe there had been a bit of edge to his voice there. But could you blame him? This wasn't the first time he had ever had this conversation with someone, and no doubt it wouldn't be the last. He was pretty sure people would start adding Spectre to the 'shit people didn't thin he was' list. It was getting kind of long.

But whatever, welcome to his life.

“I didn't mean anything by it... you just don't seem the type.” Garrus' mandibles twitched as he shrank back a little. “Why'd you join anyway? Is it a Shepard family thing?”

Despite his annoyance, Alistair let out a quick and bitter chuckle as he typed something into the mainframe. “No, I'm the first in the family and hopefully the last.”

Then he turned around, tapping the spot where his head met his neck. Though he couldn't see it, he could feel the metal embedded into his neck. Right then, it was warmer than usual. It wasn't quite overheating yet, but it got close.

“I joined because my brain was going to explode if I didn't.”

Then he went back to the panel, typing out commands as he tried to ignore the turian all but standing over his shoulder. An awkward tension filled the room, probably because neither really knew what to say. Garrus probably felt guilty... and he didn't like talking about this.

Almost a decade later, and he was still annoyed.

“Your brain?” Garrus's head cocked to the side briefly. “I thought if you got past infancy, the rate of cancer-”

Alistair shrugged his shoulders as he gave up on the console for the moment. “It does. My problem was that my biotics are so strong they were overheating my brain without an amp.”

He smiled bitterly as he rubbed the port. “Most humans get their implants at puberty to help jump start more serious training. I should've gotten mine at 14, but... well, let's just say I didn't get that chance. I probably would have been part of the L2's if they had gotten to me in time.”

Instead, he had been whisked off Mindoir as the batarians rounded everyone up. A few years in foster care, then aging out... his teen years had mostly been a jumble of headaches and missing memories that came from his brain overheating. Or at least that's what the doctors told him from ages 14 to almost 20 when he went to them.

Then his brain had almost fried at 20.

“So... when did you get yours?”

The Spectre still had his hand on his amp as he spoke. “20, when I enlisted. I think I set a record for oldest person to get one and not have permanent brain damage. Pretty sure I'm in a couple medical text books under patient X or something.”

Not that he had ever gotten the chance to read one. He'd wanted to – med school had been in his goal plan once he finished community college and transferred to a four year school – but the military had made that goal a distant dream. He still thought about it sometimes, but with how things were going he'd probably be in for life.

It wasn't how he'd seen his life going, but that's how it was.

At any rate, Alistair shrugged and let his hand drop from the cooling amp. “I only joined because the Alliance had the tech to keep me from dying from brain overheat. I was only going to stay for my enlistment, but then the Blitz happened and Akuze wasn't long after. Before I knew it, here I am at N7 and suddenly I'm a Spectre.”

So, for a guy who didn't seem the military type... he was ass deep in the military. Maybe that was to his credit. Either that, or the universe didn't want him to settle down and go to med school. Was there some future where he was like Doctor Death or something that it was trying to prevent?

Could've done that without the Reapers, you know. He would've accepted not getting into med school well enough.

At least Garrus nodded at that. “Sort of all just hit you at once.”

“Yeah. Besides, couldn't leave Bo in by herself. We work too well together to split up.”

The meter on the Mako beeped to let him know he had five minutes left until he could finish up. With any luck, he would be able to do so in silence. After having to talk about a past he wasn't too happy about, Alistair wasn't feeling too cordial as he continued to type data in.

Bitter? Absolutely.

Unfortunately for him, Garrus didn't leave. Instead, he just stood there, his body language screaming he wasn't sure what to do next. In animal species, they might wash their face or dig a hole. In turians, their mandibles twitched and their talons flexed. He was making a show of both at the moment, all he needed was the teeth grinding.

Not that Alistair wanted to hear that. Recordings of it were nasty enough.

So he worked in silence, finishing up the Mako repairs. After he pulled a few more rocks out of the treads, the timer beeped to let him now he could shut the diagnostic off. Its details were already streaming into his omni-tool; he could analyze them later at his desk, away from everyone else in the quiet of his room.

“Well... guess that's it for me. If you need to fix-”

“I'm sorry I said anything. You are a military type.”

Alistair blinked as he looked up at the turian in front or him. “Quite the change of heart you've got going on there, Garrus.”

He watched as his mandibles flared out a little – classic signs of embarrassment. Well, at least they were getting somewhere. Honestly, he was feeling a little bit in the same way. He just hid it by running away instead of staying there like an idiot.

Amazing the coping strategies between their species.

The turian cleared his throat as he glanced away. “Sense of responsibility, I guess. Should've seen it sooner.”

“Some might call that idiocy.” He allowed a brief smile. “Thanks, I guess. I don't mind not being seen as a military type, mind you. It makes getting people to agree to things without having to shoot them a lot easier.”

Which was good, because he had terrible vision and barely massed marksmanship in basic. Now that he was down an eye... well, he was glad diplomacy worked much better for him than shooting. Maybe that was why he had survived in N7.

At least that made the turian relax. “You have a point there. I think I probably would have been more annoyed if someone the other Shepard's size bumped into me in the Presidium.”

“Garrus, if Bo had bumped into you, you'd have been flat on your carapace and probably dealing with a concussion.”

He would know – he had seen enough of it.

At least that got his companion chuckling, which wasn't a bad sound. It was kind of chicken like, but not in an awful way. Honestly, it was something almost soothing to his grated nerves. Maybe this was his reward for sitting through the conversation.

Wasn't totally worth it, but it was nice.

“Yeah, that's probably true.” He stopped chuckling. “Anyway... looks like I should get out of the way so you can get back to work.”

Alistair nodded as he started to walk. “Nice talking to you, Garrus. If there's anything else wrong with the Mako, let me know. You know I have these nice, non-military sized wrists that are good at fitting into things.”

“Never going to let me live that one down, are you, Shepard?” Still, there was that chuckle again. “Right, talk to you later.”

Something about it felt good as Alistair left the area to head back to his quarters, wrist full of data. If he thought about it, it was the first decent conversation the two of them had ever had. Maybe they should have more of those.

Though... he could do without the 20 awkward questions next time. Some things he just liked to keep to himself.

#n7month #ramblinganthropologist's writing #Alistair Shepard

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madpanda75 · 5 years

Note

Sonny for “You have something in your hair, umm… Do you want me to get it out?” Pretty please!!

Thank you so much for your request! I’m so sorry it took me forever to get out. I hope you like this! I enjoyed writing it ❤️

I apologize to anyone who is blonde and named Karen. Also it is my personal opinion that our germaphobe string bean has named his truck and carries various medications with him.

“Always Been You”

Sonny paced in front you with a serious expression on his face, his crystal blue gaze never leaving yours. You wondered if this was what it felt like when a criminal was being interrogated. Only rather than confessing where you hid the body, the lanky handsome detective was asking you practice questions for your sergeant’s exam.

You closed your eyes in concentration, searching your brain for the correct answer. “Is it……D,” you hesitantly said. “Such a procedure might involve liability for the department in the event persons re-occupying the space are injured.”

Your partner frowned and shook his head. You groaned in frustration, throwing your head back on the sofa. “I’m wrong, aren’t I? Why did I even tell Liv I was going to take the test. What the hell was I thinking? I can’t be a sergeant.”

A smile slowly spread across Sonny’s face. “Actually you’re right. I just like messin’ with ya’,” he teased with a wink.

“Sonny Carisi, I’m going to murder you!” You growled, hurling a pillow at his face.

He laughed and sat down next to you on the couch. “Ya’ know I think killin’ a fellow officer may not be the best idea a week before the exam. Just sayin’, it probably won’t bode well with NYPD.”

“Unless they don’t find the body,” you replied in a sing song voice. It was Friday night and you had been studying for hours with Sonny in his apartment. Taking the exam book from his hand, you stared down at the questions, all the words seemed to jumble together. At this point your brain was fried. You were even mumbling penal codes in your sleep. You tossed the book aside, leaning your head on your partner’s shoulder. “I don’t know about you, but I could use a break. Wanna get some ice cream and tequila?”

Sonny chuckled. “Ice cream, yes but let’s save the tequila for after you take the test.” He booped your nose with his index finger making you smile.

“Sounds like a plan. As long as I get sprinkles.” You stood up and stretched before moving to grab your coat.

“Sprinkles is a given,” he replied, following you to the door. “Just a long as you don’t get a peanut butter sundae. I don’t know how you can stomach those things. Grosses me out,” he cringed.

“You’re so weird,” you snorted a laugh and helped straighten his coat collar when Sonny’s cell began to buzz in his pocket. As he took out his phone, you could see the name “Karen” flash on the screen along with a picture of the blonde beauty who had the fakest smile known to man.

“Hold on a sec,” he mumbled to you before answering the phone. “Hey doll!” You internally rolled your eyes, listening to Sonny talk to his girlfriend. “Nah, I’m not busy. I was just helping Y/N study for her exam.”

You could overhear Karen’s voice dripping with disdain at the sound of your name. To say that there was animosity between you both was putting it mildly. You and Karen did not get along. You thought she was selfish and demanding. The world revolved around her. When Karen said jump, she expected Sonny to ask, how high. Based on the interactions you had witnessed, it was obvious she didn’t care about him. To her he was just a shiny new toy, one that she would kick to the curb as soon as she saw a sleeker model that she deemed worthy of her time. You knew if she dumped Sonny, you would be the one to pick up the pieces of your partner’s broken heart.

In addition to your contempt, there was also a green eyed monster lurking within. As much you hated to admit it, you were jealous of Karen. Sonny Carisi had been your partner since your first day at SVU. He took you under his wing, showing you the ropes and how the squad operated. It wasn’t too long ago when he was the new guy himself, he knew what it felt like to be in that position. As your partnership grew, so did your friendship. The two of you were inseparable, leaning on each other for support. When Sonny was nearly killed by Tom Cole, it was you that persuaded him to go to therapy. Likewise, when the grandmother who raised you suffered a massive stroke, Sonny was with you everyday in the hospital.

Over the years, your bond became stronger. You cherished your relationship with Sonny. You couldn’t imagine life without him. He had somehow stolen your heart. If only he would look at you the way he looked at Karen. Why couldn’t he see that the one person who loved him more than anything was standing right in front of him.

“Yeah, I’ll be right there. Give me 10 minutes.” Sonny hung up the phone, gifting you a sheepish look.

You crossed your arms, quirking an eyebrow at the detective. “Let me take a wild guess. Our study session is over.”

Sonny sighed. “I’m sorry. Karen needs me to pick her up. Her and her girlfriends got invited to an after hours club by this bartender.”

“Isn’t that what Ubers or taxis are for?” You asked, walking out of his apartment in a huff.

Sonny threw his hands up in the air, following you to the elevator. “C’mon, don’t be like that. Ya’ know how hard it is to get an Uber on a Friday night.”

“I know,” you mumbled, watching the numbers drop as the elevator continued its descent. You glanced sideways at him. “I just think you deserve better.”

He locked eyes with you and for a split second a look of sadness flashed across his face. It broke your heart. “You’re a good guy, Sonny.” You reached up and playfully ruffled his hair.

“Hey! Not the hair!” Sonny smiled and pulled you into a tight hug. “Thanks for looking out for me,” he softly said, kissing the crown of your head. All too soon, the elevator dinged announcing its arrival to the main floor.

After parting ways with Sonny, you stopped by the bodega on your street to pick up a pint of ice cream, figuring Ben and Jerry could help you study that night. You had made it all the way home when you realized you had forgotten your exam book back at Sonny’s place. Not wanting to wait until tomorrow to get your book back, you decided to head back out to his apartment, hoping he would be home by the time you got there.

Luckily just as you arrived, someone was entering his building allowing you to piggyback in. As you walked down the hall, you heard muffled sounds of shouting coming from Sonny’s door. You stood there frozen, knowing that you should leave rather than eavesdrop on your friend, but temptation got the better of you.

“I can’t believe you showed up with that truck, Sonny! What were you thinking?” Karen shouted. You clicked your tongue in disapproval. Karen hated Sonny’s truck, which you had affectionately nicknamed, Bubba.

“I thought I was going to go pick up my girlfriend. Instead I see ya’ practically giving the bartender a lap dance!” Sonny retorted, his Staten Island accent thicker with his rage.

“Give me a break!” Karen scoffed. “The bartender was just being friendly. I’ve known him since high school.”

“Friendly?! The guy was being smothered by your tits. That’s your idea of friendly?!” Sonny screamed. You could envision how he must have looked, a few strands of his perfectly gelled hair flopping onto his forehead, his sleeves rolled up, face red with a protruding vein throbbing in his neck.

“What about you and Y/N!?” Your ears perked up when you heard Karen mention your name.

Your jaw dropped. “Oh my God!” You silently mouthed, pressing your ear to the door.

“You leave her out of this,” Sonny growled. “She has nothing to do with this.”

“Oh yeah!? You don’t think I see how you look at her or how she looks at you? She’s all you ever talk about! It’s always, “Y/N this” and “Y/N that.” I can only imagine what you guys do during all those late night study sessions! You love her, not me! Just admit it!”

“That’s not fair! I’ve never-,” Sonny stammered.

“Save it, Sonny!” Karen interrupted. “You know what! I’m outta here! We’re done!” She abruptly opened the door to find you on the other side, practically stumbling into her arms. You were stunned by what you had just heard, your feet rooted to the spot on the floor. “He’s all yours!” She sneered, looking back at Sonny who was standing in the foyer. She pushed past you and walked away, leaving you and your partner to stand there in awkward silence.

Sonny placed his hands on his hips, his nostrils flaring, lips pursed, waiting for you to provide a reasonable explanation as to why you were there.

You shuffled your feet, looking anywhere but at the man in front of you. “Ummm….Half Baked?” You held up the now melted pint of ice cream, offering the dessert to your friend. In your opinion, ice cream seemed to resolve most matters in life, at least in yours it did, so it seemed like an appropriate albeit awkward gesture.

“What are ya’ doin’ here?” Sonny softly asked.

“I forgot my book,” you mumbled, playing with the hair tie around your wrist. He motioned for you to come inside, grabbing the exam book from the coffee table and handing it over to you.

“Thanks,” you held the book tight to your chest, completely clueless as to what to say to your best friend.

He crossed his arms, tilting his head as he looked you over. “So, how much of the fight did you hear?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “Maybe the last minute or two. Just a snippet really. I barely heard anything.”

Sonny arched his brow, he could always tell when you were lying. “Ok, I heard everything,” you confessed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to overhear your fight, it just happened. Then I heard Karen say my name and I just didn’t know what to do so I stood there.” Standing in front of him, you could feel your cheeks getting redder by the minute. You threw your arms in the air, exasperated with the way the entire evening turned out. “I just wanted to study and eat some ice cream! I didn’t mean for all this drama to happen!”

Your partner squeezed his eyes shut, pinching the bridge of his nose, waiting a long moment before answering. “I think maybe you should leave, Y/N.”

You bit your lip, feeling a lump form in your throat as you nodded your head and slowly made your way to the door. You held it together until you got home, unable to fight your tears anymore. In the span of a few hours, you had managed to lose your best friend, unsure if you would ever get him back.

In the blink of an eye, Monday had arrived. You spent the weekend eating one too many pints of Ben and Jerry’s and shedding countless tears. Fin watched as you walked into the precinct, dressed in a drab sweater and jeans, nursing a large coffee, your hair unruly, eyes puffy and red.

“Rough weekend?”

“Something like that,” you mumbled, plopping down at your desk and starting up your laptop.

Fin got up, moving to sit at the edge of your desk. “Where’s your partner? Normally you two get here around the same time.”

As if on cue, Sonny walked in. The detective lacked the usual spring in his step. He looked just as rough as you with dark bags under his eyes and scruff on his chin. “Mornin’,” he grumbled.

“Damn, Sonny. You look worse than Y/N. What the hell did you all do this weekend.” Fin’s eyes bounced between you and your partner. “Anything you guys wanna tell me?”

You and Sonny glanced at each other before you focused on your laptop screen. “No,” you softly said.

The sergeant sighed and shook his head. “Whatever, it’s your business.” He patted you on the shoulder as he walked away. “I’ve got good news and bad news. Noah has the chicken pox so Liv is going to be out for a few days.”

“So what’s the good news?” Sonny asked.

He turned around, a smirk firmly planted on his face. “I’m in charge.”

Work served as a welcome distraction from your personal life. You spent most of the day in the basement records room, sifting through cold case files you believed were linked to a string of recent rapes and murders. Although the basement was damp and dingy, you would rather be there than feet away from Sonny.

“This place is a mess,” you mumbled, getting on your hands and knees to get the last box which had been carelessly shoved on the back corner of a bottom shelf. You lugged the heavy box back to the makeshift work space you created, sneezing and sniffling, the mildew-laden basement affecting your allergies. When it came to your job, you threw yourself into your work, dedicating countless hours to every case, determined to seek justice and allow the voices of the victims to be heard.

Sonny walked downstairs, to find you elbows deep in a file, muttering to yourself. The night of the fight, Karen had hit the nail right on the head. Sonny did love you. It was as if the blindfold was pulled from his eyes and there you were. You were the one. The person who had captured his heart. Over the weekend, all he could think about was you, wondering if he should confess his feelings. But then there were those nagging fears that kept him up at night. What if you didn’t feel the same way? What if you had moved on?

Sonny cleared his throat to catch your attention but you didn’t respond, completely focused on the police report you were reading. “Hey,” he called out.

You glanced up from your work to see your partner standing in front of you. “Hey,” you replied before letting out a sneeze and rubbing your watery eyes.

He sat down next to you, pulling out of his pocket some allergy medication. “I figured you’d be down here sneezing and wheezing so I brought you these.”

You softly smiled and took the pills from him. “Thanks.”

Sonny watched as you drank some water to swallow down the medication, glancing around the room, trying to think of what to say. After years of being best friends and partners, the detective suddenly felt shy and nervous in your presence. “So….uh…how’s research coming?” He asked.

You shrugged your shoulders. “Good. I think I may have found the missing link that connects all of our victims.”

A smile tugged at his lips as he studied your appearance, your hair wild and coming loose out of its messy bun, a bit of dirt and dust smudged on your face. “Ya’ have somethin’ in your hair.”

“I do?” You felt around your head, trying to search for the object in question.

“Umm….do ya’ want me to get it out?”

You nodded your head as Sonny helped fish out the pen cap stuck in your hair. “Oh thanks. I was wondering where that had ran off to,” you replied, replacing the cap back on the pen you were using.

He reached into his pocket and handed you his handkerchief. “Ya’ also got some dust or something on your face.”

“Jeez, I’m a mess.” You grabbed a mirror out of your purse and graciously took the handkerchief, wiping your face clean. “Better?” You asked, looking up at Sonny.

“You’re perfect,” he softly said.

You blushed, turning back to your work when he reached for you, gingerly touching your arm.

“Look about Friday night, I-,” Sonny started before you interrupted him.

“Let’s just forget about it.” You waved him off, wanting to put the whole thing behind you.

He shook his head. “I can’t. Karen was right. She was right about everything. It’s you. It’s always been you.”

You stopped, your heart skipping a beat as you turned to face him. “What did you say?”

“I’m in love with you, Y/N. I was just too blind and stupid to see that. You’re the last person I think of before I fall asleep and the first person I want to see every mornin’. You’re everything to me.”

You let out a shaky breath, your eyes glossy with tears. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve waited to hear you say that?”

Sonny sighed and smiled brightly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Really?”

“Yes! Sonny, I’ve been in love with you for years. You’re all I ever wanted. I just wish I would’ve said something sooner, but I was too scared.” You sniffled, looking down at your hands.

“Ya’ don’t have to be scared with me, doll.” He reached out and cupped your face. “Please, tell me I still have a chance with you.”

“Yes,” you softly said.

Stroking your cheek with his thumb, he moved his hand behind your neck, bringing you closer to him. His eyes glanced down at your mouth before looking back up to meet your gaze, silently pleading for permission to kiss you.

“Yes,” you repeated in a barely audible whisper, leaning forward. Your faces were so close, you could feel his hot breath on your skin.

The minute your lips met, the floodgates opened, years of pent up sexual tension finally being released. You sighed into the kiss, feeling Sonny’s tongue dart into your mouth, mingling with your own. Your lips began to fervently move against his, desperate to taste him, encouraging him.

Sonny groaned and tugged you onto his lap as his hands roamed your body, grabbing fistfuls of your flesh. He was overwhelmed, not knowing what part of you he wanted to touch first, all he knew in that moment was that he wanted you, all of you. His lips laid kisses across your cheek, until they found purchase on your pulse point.

“Oh Sonny,” you whimpered, grinding down against his clothed crotch. You turned your head to capture his mouth once more. Threading your fingers in his hair, you deepened the kiss, pulling him even closer to you when a familiar voice pierced the air.

“Y/L/N?” Amanda called out causing you both to jump.

“Yeah?” You timidly responded, panting hard from your brief makeout session.

“Is Carisi down there?”

“I’m here! I was just…uh…helping Y/N,” Sonny chimed in breathlessly.

“Well when y’all finish Fin needs you up here. Looks like our perp is willing to talk.”

“Yeah, I’ll be right there,” he said with a smirk, staring at you like a hungry wolf does when they’re about to pounce on an innocent lamb. “Ya’ know, we have a problem.”

You nervously bit your lip. “What’s that?”

Sonny leaned forward, his lips ghosting over yours. “Well now that I’ve kissed you. I can’t seem to stop,” he purred.

“So don’t stop,” you whispered, closing the gap between you both and kissing him hard, playfully nipping at his bottom lip. After a couple more quick kisses, you grabbed your case files and followed him upstairs.

Amanda sat at her desk, doing a double take as you and Sonny entered the bullpen, “Something wrong, Rollins?” He asked, cocking his hip to the side.

She coughed, trying to cover up a laugh. “Nope! Everything’s fine. Fin was asking for you.”

Just then the sergeant walked out of one of the interrogation rooms, raising his eyebrows in surprise when he saw Sonny. “Ya’ know Carisi, that lipstick you’re sporting really doesn’t bring out the blue in your eyes. Why don’t you wash off your indiscretions and go interview our perp.”

You looked at your partner and gasped when you saw your berry lipstick smudged on his lips and chin. He turned beet red, trying to wipe the offending stains with his hand. “I’ll….uhhh..be right back,” he mumbled, making a beeline to the bathroom.

Biting your lip, you watched him walk away, paying close attention to his cute butt. “Damn, you could bounce a quarter off that ass.”

Amanda nearly spit out her water, laughing so hard she snorted while Fin gave you a disapproving look. “Did I say that out loud?” You cringed.

Fin nodded his head. “Eyes forward, young lady,” he reprimanded. “Don’t you have reports to get done?”

You saluted him and sat at your desk. “Yes sir. All work and no play.”

A few minutes later Sonny came back, his face freshly scrubbed and clean. He walked past your desk, catching your eye and winking at you as he walked into the interrogation room. You smiled, giggling a bit, your cheeks turning bright pink.

Fin witnessed your interaction and laughed to himself, shaking his head, “Man, I hate being in charge,” he muttered to himself. “It’s like babysitting a bunch of horny teenagers.”

@thatesparzacrush @southern-magnolia @glimmerglittergirl @eclecticminded @sweetcannolicarisi @obfuscateyummy @katmstanton @beltzboys2015-blog @letty-o @sonnysdoll @lyssa1385 @sweetsummertime99 @burningsorr0ws @gibbs274 @izzythefanfreak @riodallas @babypink224221 @amirightcounsellor @livxrafa @delia26

#sonny carisi #Dominick Carisi JR #sonny carisi imagine #sonny carisi fic #sonny carisi x reader #sonny carisi fanfic #sonny carisi fanfiction #carisi #carisi fic #carisi x reader #carisi imagine #law and order svu fic #law and order svu imagine

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dancingkirby · 5 years

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So I heard that y’all were asking for more Bopal fics

And I decided to write one! This is a missing scene from Part 2 of the epilogue of my fic “Into Open Waters.” Brief recap: Bolin and Opal are in a polyamorous relationship with Eska in which they’re all married to each other, Opal had just given birth from Eska’s PoV, and then Eska had to leave the room briefly because it brought up traumatic memories for her. This is what happened while Eska was out of the room.

WARNING: Mild gore; i.e. normal postpartum stuff.

Bolin, Opal, and Suyin all looked up at the sound of the door closing, and glanced over to see that Eska’s spot on the bed to Opal’s left was now vacated. Suyin’s nostrils flared.

“If she thinks that she can just up and leave without so much as saying anything…” she began.

“Mom. She can,” Opal interjected. “She was here for hours on end, with all the noise and talking, and she obviously needed to go cool down.”

“Should I go check on her?” Bolin asked. “Make sure she’s okay?”

“I’d recommend giving it a while. She needs her quiet time,” Opal answered. Having settled the matter, the two of them turned their attention back to San, whose initial lung-filling wails had quieted down to grumbling as An the midwife loosely wrapped him in a towel.

“He’s beautiful,” Bolin murmured. He knew that he’d already said that, but there wasn’t anything wrong with saying it multiple times, right? “And so are you.”

The front part of his wife’s hair was plastered to her forehead with sweat, the back part was sticking out every which way, and her eyes had dark circles under them. Bolin thought that it was possibly the most wonderful thing he had ever seen.

At that moment, An cleared her throat and said, “Well, it’s time to cut the cord. Dad, would you like to do the honors?”

Bolin thought at first that the midwife was talking about her own father, and he looked all over the room for a really, really old guy. It was only when Suyin prompted him by saying his name that he realized: Oh yeah. He was the dad. Of course, he’d known that already since this wasn’t even his first kid, but Kinalik preferred to call him by his given name and he had a tendency to let her. Thus, someone actually addressing him as “Dad” was a bit jarring.

“Uh…sure,” he finally replied. An put the clamps on and showed him where to cut, and he got through the whole thing on his very first try. Everyone applauded politely. Shortly thereafter, An pressed on Opal’s stomach with one hand while pulling on the severed cord with the other, and…

“Did her guts just fall out?” Bolin cried, painfully aware that his voice had gotten higher and higher until it was a nearly inaudible squeak by the end of the sentence.

“That’s the afterbirth, Bolin,” Suyin explained like this should be perfectly obvious to anyone. “It’s supposed to come out. In fact, it’s a very bad thing if it doesn’t.”

“Oh,” Bolin mumbled, looking down at his shoes.

“Mom,” Opal warned again, her voice nearly a growl this time. Even Suyin looked surprised, and was briefly at a loss for words.

“She’s right,” the older woman conceded when she found her voice again. “I shouldn’t have used that tone with you. I’m sorry.”

That was his Opal, all right: normally patient and gentle and introverted, yet terrifying when that patience ran out. Bolin squeezed her hand in gratitude. However, his heart plummeted again when Opal’s teeth started chattering despite the room being well-heated.

“Oh, honey, you’re getting chills. Why didn’t you say that you were cold?” Suyin said quickly. She did not have to tell Bolin what to do next; he had already grabbed a blanket from the stack near the bed. Opal’s mother gave him a nod of thanks, and told him, “Be sure to wrap that nice and snugly…and around San, too.”

Meanwhile, An was examining that big, red, angry…thing… and confirmed that it had all come out in one piece. Then she stepped into the smaller room off the main one that was strictly off-limits to non-employees of this birthing center, and returned bearing several small, pointy instruments. Opal groaned in dismay.

“She doesn’t like needles,” Bolin explained as he and Suyin finished tucking the blanket corners in.

“I’m sorry. She has a tear that needs repairing,” An said briskly. And, to Opal, “You don’t have to worry. It looks to be fairly uncomplicated as far as these things go, and should be able to be fixed in a few minutes. And I will give you a shot that will numb the area. You might not feel anything whatsoever if you’re focused enough on your baby. Just be sure to hold still.”

Opal had to hold on tight to Bolin’s hand, and although she yelped a bit during the shot, the numbing medicine appeared to do the trick. Suyin had moved towards the back of the room to give An some space (was it wrong that he felt a little relieved?), so Bolin decided that he would help distract Opal in the way that he knew best: talking about the first things that came to his mind.

“I want to buy you something,” he said in a rush. “Anything you want. Even if it’s the most expensive necklace at the most expensive jewelry store in Republic City. Or…or…that humongous toy stuffed armadillo bear that you thought looked cute while we were shopping for stuff for San’s room. Or…”

He was cut off by Opal placing a finger against his mouth.

“You don’t have to buy me anything,” she said with a confused look on her face. “Why would you think that?”

It was a good question. Bolin had always had trouble putting his feelings into words, especially when they were all jumbled into a huge knot like this. Thinking very hard, he started, “Well, you went through all that, and I feel bad that I have nothing to give you in return. And I guess…”–he finally had his epiphany mid-sentence– “It doesn’t seem fair that I only did the one part at the beginning, and you had to do all the hard work. And then you were in labor for I don’t know how long, and then you got hurt while doing it, and, and…I just love you so much. Him too, of course.”

He kissed each in turn, before adding, “I think I’m starting to cry again,” as he once again rubbed at his damp eyes with his equally damp sleeve.

“You’re sweet,” Opal replied, looking a bit teary-eyed herself. “But you don’t have to worry about me. I decided to have your baby because I wanted to; I didn’t feel any kind of obligation. And it’s true that the labor was more difficult than I was expecting, but I knew going in that it wasn’t all going to be a walk in the park. Besides, I enjoyed being pregnant overall…and there were perks.” At Bolin’s confused silence, Opal leaned over and clarified in a whisper, “The sex was great, with both you and Eska.”

“Oh,” was all Bolin could come up with in response. Most other times, he would have preened over the praise, but his brain was fried from staying up all night.

“If you still really want to buy me something…I could always use more books. Eska can help you find some if you want. Just…don’t go overboard,” Opal said.

“Is ten going overboard?”

Opal gave a drowsy smile. “Ten would be great.”

She looked like she was on the verge of drifting off, needle and all, so Bolin simply held her in silence until An announced, “Done! See, that wasn’t so bad, was it? Now let’s get mom and baby all clean and bundled up, shall we?”

And so An measured, cleaned, and swaddled San, while Suyin helped Opal into her nightgown and bathrobe and redid the blanket. Then, at long last, Bolin got to hold his son. It was exhilarating and nerve-wracking all at the same time. Bolin had never held a newborn infant before, and although San was a sizable baby, he was still so fragile.

“Uh…question. How do I not drop him?” Bolin asked.

Suyin, not looking concerned in the slightest, replied, “Just keep supporting his head and bottom, and everything should be fine.”

And it was. But now what was he supposed to do? He thought about this, and after several seconds recalled from one of Opal’s classes that it was important to talk to babies so they could start building up their language skills for later.

“So…uh…hi. I’m your dad,” he began; it was still weird to say it. “And over there are your mom and grandma. And you’re San, obviously.”

Opal giggled a bit. Bolin looked over, worried that he messed it up, but she assured him, “Keep going. You’re going great.”

“Right. So of course, there’s Eska too. She’s going to be like a second mom to you, and to be honest she’s the only one of us who knows what she’s doing. And Ki’s back at the house. She can’t wait to meet you; it’s pretty much been all she’s talked about for the past two months! And there’s also Baatar Senior and Baatar Junior and Huan and Wing and Wei. You’ll meet Mako and Grandma Yin and all the rest on my side of the family in a couple months when we get back to Republic City.”

San peered up at him somberly; he had completely quieted down by now.

“Oh, and you’ll get to see Korra and Asami too; they have this awesome pool, and Asami saved all her toys from when she was a kid. And you’ll probably be going to Air Temple Island a lot. And, in a couple years, you can come to the pro-bending arena and hear me commentating some games…”

He broke off because San was starting to fuss again.

“Already decided you don’t like pro-bending, huh?” Bolin mused. He looked up and asked, “No, seriously, did I do something wrong?”

“I think it’s more likely that he’s ready to try to nurse,” An replied. “If you would…”

“Hm? Oh, yeah, here you are.” Bolin handed San back to the midwife, who gave him back to Opal in turn. As they started the process of assisting San with latching on, Bolin began to feel like this was a special moment between only Opal and her baby, and didn’t want to intrude.

“Should I see how Eska’s doing?” he asked. “Or did you want me to stay here longer?”

“Go on ahead,” Opal said, wincing slightly as San apparently found his target. Bolin felt a little anxious, and his face must have showed it, since she added, “I’m fine. It just takes a little getting used to.”

“Okay then. I’ll be back soon. Hopefully with Eska.”

Bolin hoped that he wouldn’t have to walk all around the building to retrieve her. To his relief, as he cautiously opened the door a bit to look out, he saw that their wife was sitting only a few doors down the hallway. She looked up at the noise of the hinges, and he was further happy to see no evidence that she had been in crying or otherwise in major distress.

“Hey,” he said to her, “What’s up?”

#fanfic #legend of korra #bopal #bolin #opal

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catalinda04 · 5 years

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Carried Away Chapter 5: Breakfast Confessions

Masterlist

“I’m sorry Sir, but Miss Claussen has asked not to be disturbed. You may leave her a message, and I can assure you it will be delivered first thing in the morning.” The middle-aged woman behind the front desk assured him.

“No, no thank you. No message.” Henry walked away from the desk of the hotel. “How could you be so stupid?” He chastised himself. “You weren’t going to take her to bed tonight. Why did you ask? Now she most assuredly thinks you’re some sex-crazed playboy just out for a good time. You need to make this right. But how can I if she won’t see me?” He argued with himself. “I’ll just have to wait for morning. I’ll wait for her and apologize then.” Pleased with his plan, he went home to take a cold shower, and try not to think about Lucy and her soft lips, and sparkling eyes.

Lucy couldn’t remember crying harder in her life. She needed a friend and she needed one now. Sarah would know what to say.

“Oh, Sarah! I made a mess of things! He wanted me! ME! And instead of just going for it, I ran away. Literally! I RAN away from him! He must think I’m some kind of weirdo, glad that he dodged a bullet there.” She sobbed into the phone.

“Sweetie, it’s ok. I wish I could be there to give you a hug. Now explain. Tell me exactly what happened.” Lucy explained about the dinner and the wine and the dancing in the park, and the kiss that had fried her synapses with its heat and intensity.

“I ruined it! He wanted me! Now I’ve ruined the whole thing. I don’t even have his phone number or know where he lives to explain myself.”

“Honey, I’m sorry. Why don’t you get some sleep, and maybe everything will seem better in the morning. If nothing else, please don’t wallow in this. You’re in London! Go out and see the city, do all of the things you had planned, and try to forget about it.”

“Thank you. I know it’s silly. I only met this guy today, I shouldn't be so messed up over this. I’ll call you tomorrow. Love you.”

“Love you too. Get some sleep.”

Lucy contemplated the pint bottle of vodka she’d purchased earlier in the day. She hoped that by finishing it, she could at least sleep through the night. She finished the bottle and fell into a fitful sleep, full of jumbled dreams, where Superman was flying overhead while Henry laughed at her.

She awoke to a jackhammer in her brain, and a roiling in her stomach. The vodka probably wasn’t the best idea she’d ever had, she decided. After a long shower, a bottle of water, a handful of ibuprofen, and a gallon of concealer she finally felt ready for a day of exploring the city. The first item on her agenda; buy a map of the city. No more getting lost in strange neighborhoods. Only trouble came from that.

She put on her Jackie O. sunglasses to hide the dark circles the concealer didn’t quite cover, stepped out the front door of the hotel, and almost ran right into Henry.

“Good morning. I brought you a cup of tea.” He said handing her a paper to go cup.

“Henry! What are you doing here?” Lucy paled at his appearance.

“I came to apologize. I obviously came on too strong last night. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“No, I’m sorry. I DID get scared, and I ran away, instead of facing my feelings. Would you like to go get some breakfast, and maybe I can shed some light for you.”

They made small talk as Henry led her to a nearby restaurant. Perusing the menu, she asked, “What does a ‘Full English’ breakfast consist of?”

“A ‘Full English’ is usually fried eggs, sausages, bacon or black pudding, fried veg, beans, and toast.”

“And people say Americans fry too much. How can anyone eat that much fried food this early in the morning.”

“There’s nothing better after a night at the pub.” He smiled. Lucy had planned on skipping breakfast today, but it seemed since seeing Henry, her stomach had forgotten all about the vodka incident.

“I feel like I owe you an explanation.” Lucy started after giving the waitress their orders. “First of all, again, I’m sorry for how I left last night. I really did have a wonderful time, it was probably the best evening I’ve ever spent. Then you...made your...request...and I didn’t know how to handle it.”

“I’m sorry I said it. It was incredibly forward of me to even suggest that we might take things to that level, we’d known each other for less than 12 hours. I didn’t mean to imply that I thought that you were…” And he just trailed off.

“It’s not that I was offended, or didn’t want to. I did, oh good lord how I did, it’s just…I can’t believe I’m telling you this…I’ve…um...never…um...well you know.”

“Had a one-night stand?” He suggested.

“Had ANY night stand.” She supplied, not meeting his eyes.

“Oh…OH!” He exclaimed, his eyes going wide as understanding hit him. “But you’re what 26, 27? How does that happen? Is it a religion thing?”

“No, it’s a never had the opportunity thing, and I’m a month shy of 31 thank you very much for reminding me. I wasn’t popular in high school, and in college, I was focused on my studies, then well, guys have never shown an interest in me. Which is why I was so surprised when you actually showed at the coffee shop yesterday.” She explained fidgeting her hands on the table.

Thankfully their food arrived at just that moment, halting Lucy’s rambling and giving them a few moments to take in what had already been said.

After a few minutes of thoughtful eating Henry finally broke the silence. “So what is on our schedule for today?”

“Our? What do you mean our?”

“If you wouldn't mind, I’d like to accompany you around town today.”

“What? Why?” Lucy asked, genuine shock crossing her features.

“Because I’d like to get to know you better. And I’d like to see where this could lead.”

Lucy sat dumbfounded, staring at Henry “You, want to spend the day with me? Even after how I behaved last night, and all that’s been explained over breakfast?”

“Why is that so hard for you to comprehend?”

“Because. No man has ever wanted to...get to know me.”

“Well, then they are supremely daft. Because I’ve thought about nothing but getting to know you since the coffee shop yesterday.” She gaped at him slightly, her brow furrowing in disbelief. “I would like to keep spending time with you while you’re here in London.”

“I’m just planning on doing standard sightseeing, nothing that you’d want to do, I’m sure.”

“I have a few days before we start filming on my latest project. I would like to spend as much of those few days with you as you’ll allow.”

For a few seconds, Lucy couldn’t speak. Had he just said that? he wanted to spend more time with her. Her brain could barely fathom the idea. “Well, I was going to go to the Globe, followed by the Tate and St. Paul’s.”

“Wow, that’s quite a bit for one day.”

“I’m only here for a few days, I want to see as much as I can.”

Henry stood. “Well then, we had better be off, but before we go,” He leaned close when Lucy stood as well. “I want to tell you, my ‘offer’ from last night is on the table, so to speak. But I will leave it up to you to decide if you want to pick it up. There will be no pressure from me” Lucy gaped after him as he left to pay the bill.

Once they were outside, he donned a pair of sunglasses and a hat. “Disguise.” He explained. “It’s not a great one, but it’s better than nothing.”

Lucy and Henry spent the entire day together. Talking, laughing, learning little bits about each other, like her love for Picasso, and his aversion to black olives. Lucy surprised herself. She was normally a very selfie-phobic person, but she found she would take as many selfies as possible as long as Henry was by her side.

That evening, they enjoyed a lovely meal at a little bistro near Leicester Square, before Henry escorted Lucy back to her hotel. When she tried to say goodnight at the front door, he insisted on seeing her to her room.

Her room was at the back of the hotel, through an outdoor courtyard. When they arrived at her door, Lucy unlocked it and turned to say goodnight to Henry.

“Is this your entire room? He asked peering inside. “This may be the smallest hotel room I’ve ever seen.”

“The bathroom is so small that in order to turn around, you have to step out of it.” She laughed, gesturing in, indicating he should have a look.

He stepped into the room and what had once been a small room, seemed positively minuscule. He turned to Lucy. He had planned to say goodnight, give her a simple kiss and be on his way. But the nervous, expectant look on her face nearly undid him. He took the two steps possible to cross the room and framed Lucy’s face in his hands. He lowered his lips to hers, intending to give her a slow, sweet kiss goodnight. She responded with abandon. Wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling him in closer. She opened her mouth, and her tongue dueled with his.

He slowly sat down on the bed, pulling Lucy with him. She sat next to him and buried her hands in his hair. Henry turned to lay her down on the bed, her hands slid down his strong back to slide under the hem of his shirt. His hand left her face to slide down her neck, moulding his palm to her breast. Lucy moaned against his mouth.

His hand continued its downward slide to her waist, toying with the hem of her shirt. When his hand slid under to touch the bare skin of her stomach, she started. She put a hand on his chest. “Stop.” She gasped. “We need to stop. I...no. Not yet.” She could barely get the words out around her gasping for breath, sitting up, she left the hand on his chest.

“Yes. Stop. Good idea.” Henry agreed once his brain started working again.

Lucy stood up and pulled Henry with her. “You should go.” She said kissing him again, all but pushing him out of the room. “Good night Henry. Thank you for a wonderful day.” She said, kissing him once more, before shutting the door and falling back onto it.

Henry stood staring at her door. He started back toward the hotel exit before he turned and knocked on Lucy’s door. She answered with a slightly dazed expression on her face.

He grabbed her and kissed her one long, deep, thorough, kiss. Resting his forehead against hers, he breathed heavily. “I’ll go now, but think about this. When we do finally make love. We’re going to set the sheets on fire.” Then he kissed her again for good measure and walked off. As last words went, that was one for the record books.

Chapter 4 Chapter 6

#henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic #fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #carried away #fan fiction

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soybeantree · 6 years

Text

a grim moment - pt. 2

pairing: hyungwon x reader genre/warning: angst, mentions of death/dying word count: 7.2k+ parts: o1 | o2 description: Straddling the line between the world of the living and the world of the dead means you’re the only person who can help a devastatingly handsome reaper with an impossible task.

After one final read through of your short answers, you put your pen down and start to pack up. Three finals down and two more to go. Your brain is fried, your body is exhausted, and your emotions are a jumbled mess, but you’re still alive. Handing in the final to the TA, you take a deep breath. While you’d like to spend the remainder of the day resting, the library calls to you. “Y/N!” You spin at your name to find Minhyuk racing down the hallway after you. He’s a gangly mess as he runs, and his face is lit with a smile. It’s infectious, and you find yourself returning it. “Hey.” He’s breathless when he reaches you. “What did you think of the final?” “Definitely as hard as Professor Min said it would be. But it’s over now, and if I work my schedule just right, I won’t have to take another one of his classes.” You start walking again, and Minhyuk falls into step with you, chuckling. “If I ask really nicely, will you let me copy your schedule. I don’t think I’ll survive a class with him on my own.” You chuckle yourself, as you pull your hair up into a bun. Minhyuk stops, his eyes fixed on your hands. “Is something wrong?” “Sorry.” He blushes. “I was just looking at your watch.” He continues on his way, but your body remains frozen while your consciousness hurtles back to that day beside the reaper. You watch the car pass by and can see the six passengers through the windows. One turns revealing a glimpse of his face, his smile. You watch the car crash and feel the moment when Minhyuk leaves this world. You’re back in the present. Minhyuk stands a few feet in front of you alive and well. He has stopped and is staring back at you. “Y/N?”

“Sorry. I, um, I was lost in thought for a minute. What did you say?” You force your voice to be calm, even as your body quakes with the knowledge that the boy in front of you will die in three days. “I asked if you wanted to grab lunch with me, and my friends before you lock yourself in the library. I don’t think you’ve met them yet.” “Maybe next time.” You attempt a smile and manage a grimace. Though if they’re who you think they are there might not be a chance for a next time. Like Minhyuk, they may all be dead in three days. The thought hits hard, but you force yourself to remain standing. “I should get going.” Without giving him a chance to respond, you spin on your heel rushing down the hallway. The minute you pass through the main doors, you take off. You’re feet pound across pavement as your body threatens to collapse. Not Minhyuk. Not the boy who smiles everyday and does everything to bring a smile to those who need one. Not the boy who saves you a seat whenever you’re running late. Not the boy who brings coffee to class because he knows you spent the whole night studying. Not him and his friends. You run until you reach the park where you’d stood with the reaper three days before. Rasps of breath fill the air as you recover from your dash and the shock of everything. Tears well in your eyes, blurring the world around you and reminding you of the world of the dead, the world Minhyuk will soon enter. You want to scream and kick and hit, but there is nothing to hit or kick and your voice won’t make a sound. Instead, you stand and as silent tears stream down your cheeks. Your life or theirs. Your life or theirs. The words have been your constant companion for the past two days. Even as you study and sit for your finals, the words whisper through your mind. The words change now. Your life or Minyuk’s. Your life or his friends. Your death is not an absolute certainty. The reaper said you were in danger of dying, but Minhyuk and his friends, their death is certain. You watched it, felt it. It is a re-occurring nightmare that replays in your mind whenever there is a lull. The watch weighs heavy on your hand. You raise it to eye level, and for the first time can see the names on each hand. Minhyuk, Hyunwoo, Hoseok, Kihyun, Jooheon, Changkyun. Turning your wrist over, you undo the strap and hold the face in your hand. “You’ve made your choice.” His deep voice fills your mind, chasing away the lingering doubts. “I know Minhyuk. He’s in two of my classes.” You begin as you replace the watch on your wrist. “I’ve never met the other five. He asked me to grab food with them today. I couldn’t do it.” Your voice warbles, and you breath deeply to steady it. “I couldn’t sit across from them, knowing they would die soon. I won’t let them die.” You turn to face him. He’s as elegant as ever in his three piece suit, not a wrinkle in sight. But, there’s something different about him today, a lightness in the way he stands, an ease in his face. “What’s our first step? I’m assuming it’s not as easy as telling them they’re going to die in three days if they get in that car.” He shakes his head. “It wouldn’t change anything. Death would still find a way to take their lives. Death always claims what belongs to it.” “Then what do we do? If Death always gets its way then how are we supposed to save them?” Frustration laces your words. When he came to you for help, he made it seem like he had some grand plan in place and all you had to do was play your part. “I was hoping you would know.” You snort in disbelief. ‘Me.’ You mouth pointing at yourself. “How the hell am I supposed to know? You’re the damn reaper. Didn’t you go to reaper school or something.” “As a reaper, you are taught how to keep order not break it. And you, you’ve cheated Death before and lived.” He pauses, his eyes gaze off and his shoulders fall, and you remember the look on his face when he watched his friends die. As imposing and fierce as he appears, he is just a boy trying to save his friends. Clearing your throat, you break the silence and draw his attention back to you. “You mentioned that before, but I don’t remember ever doing that.” “It was when you were little. You went on a hike with your parents. You were playing to close to the edge of the cliff-” “I fell.” You remember the day. Your mom had scolded you not to play too close to the edge, but seven year old you thought you were invincible. It had rained that morning and the stone was slick. You’d slipped and fell backwards. “You should have died.” “There was a man at the base of the cliff. He saw me falling and caught me. We were both in the hospital for a week. I broke my arm and my leg and cracked his ribs and skull, but we both lived. Was he supposed to die that day too?” He shakes his head. “His time hasn’t come yet.” The knowledge brings a smile. After you two were discharged, you never saw the man again. You’re glad to know that he’s still alive. “I lived because someone who wasn’t supposed to die interfered at the moment of my death.” You whisper as your mind mulls over the information. “Put like that I guess it’s pretty simple what I have to do.” “They die in a car accident. How are you going to interfere at the moment of their death?” That part wasn’t as simple. Coming between a little girl and the ground was less dangerous than coming between two speeding cars. “I just figured out what I have to do. Can you give me a minute to figure out how?” The words bite as fiercely as the wind, and you regret their harshness as he retreats into himself. You huddle deeper into your jacket and clear your throat. “I doubt I’ll figure it out standing here freezing to death. There’s a little hole in the wall place near here that makes great soup - not that you eat - but I do and food always helps me think better.” “Are you asking me out on a date?” “What? No! I-” And that’s when you catch him smirking. “I didn’t realize reapers could joke.” “The longer you’re a reaper, the less human you become which only makes sense. Why does a reaper need to have human tendencies? They only get in the way of doing your job.” “And sometimes those tendencies keep you from doing your job.” You two have started walking, but he stops a moment before smiling and shaking his head. His smile is a small thing, but it transforms his face completely. “How long have you been a reaper?” The question has nagged at you since you found out what he is. “A years.” “Does that mean you died a year ago?” He shakes his head, and you fall silent. “It’s not painful to talk about. I’ve accepted I’m dead, and being a reaper isn’t bad. People misunderstand reapers and our job. We don’t kill people. We’re there to help them when they die. Without us, they would endlessly wander the world of the dead and never find peace.” You’ve seen the world of the dead, a dark empty place filled with the blurs of the living. Wandering it for eternity would be the worst kind of hell. “Did you choose to be a reaper?” He nods. “I want to be there for my friends when their time comes. I just don’t want it to be now.” “And it won’t.” You promise if only to bring back his little smile. “I won’t let it be now.” “Don’t say anything more.” You start to turn. “Don’t look at me. Keep walking. Don’t turn to the left or the right. Just continue forward.” His words quicken your heart and release a burst of adrenaline, but you force yourself to remain calm and continue walking. Rounding the corner, a woman stands in your path. She wears a perfectly tailored three piece suit, her face is smooth as glass, and her hair is coiffured in a severe bun. While she lacks the elegance of your reaper, she is a reaper just the same. Squaring your shoulders, you continue forward and straight through her without flinching. You force your gaze forward as you head towards the soup shop. A warm blast of air hits you as you enter, and your shoulders fall as you sigh. The owner greets you with a smile and tells you to take your usually table in the back while she gets your soup. Unwinding your scarf, you drape it on the back of your chair before plopping onto it. You rub at your face and take a series of deep breaths. “Are you okay?” Your head whips up. “What just happened? Why was she there?” “I told you Death likes order. I thought I was being careful, but it seems I’ve drawn their attention to you. If you see another reaper, will you know?” You shake your head. “Good. Just pretend you don’t see them. No matter what they do, just pretend they’re not there. If they find out you know about us, you’ll be in danger. You also shouldn’t wear that anymore.” He indicates the watch, and you instinctively pull your wrist against your chest. “I thought you said that there wasn’t any danger in me wearing it.” “There is no danger in wearing it, but if a reaper sees you wearing it, you will be in danger.” You pull your wrist away and glance at the face. The names on the hands glare back at you. Without a word, you undo the latch and hand the watch over. “How will I contact you without it?” “I’ll come when it’s safe.” “What if it’s never safe? I can’t do this alone.” “You won’t I promise.” His eyes hold yours, and instead of pulling you into the dark void, they anchor you. Before you can respond, he’s gone. The owner comes with your soup, fussing over how skinny you are and how tired you look. You smile at her and thank her for her concern, but your mind is elsewhere as you contemplate how to trick Death.

Finals come to an end, leaving you with one day left before Death claims Minhyuk and his friends. The reaper has yet to return, but his brethren are everywhere. They haunt your paths, and while you do your best to ignore them, it’s no easy task, especially when they pop in out of nowhere. The worst moment had been while you were in the library studying. You’d glanced over at your computer to find a reaper standing in it. By some miracle, you had kept yourself from screaming. But, you’d had to move your computer to use it. Their constant presence has made devising a plan difficult that and the fact that you have no idea what you’re doing. You have a plethora of questions for the reaper, but with no way to ask them, you fester over the problem. Minhyuk has texted you several times, asking to get drinks to celebrate the end of finals, and each time you come up with an excuse why you can’t. You’re running out of excuses and time. If you could just lock them all up until the end of tomorrow, you would, but you know it would be useless. The reapers who surround you would interfere, and all of your lives would be forfeit. You have to trick Death at the moment of their deaths. Not knowing what else to do, you return to your coffee shop. Your favorite spot affords a perfect view of where everything will happen as well as the spot you stood with the reaper when he showed you. Your eyes travel to that spot wondering if he’ll be there, if he watches this spot like you. But all you see are the living. “I knew you’d be here!” Minhyuk’s voice breaks through your revere and sends your heart racing. “Minhyuk. Hey.” Your greeting is flat, and the way his face falls let’s you know that you’re not the only one who thinks so. He pouts and doesn’t take the seat across from you despite his hand resting on the back of it. “Sit.” You gesture to the seat, but he remains standing. “Please.” You add with a forced smile. He finally does and places a coffee on the table for you. The gesture twists your heart. “Thank you.” You whisper as you pull the cup closer to you. Your eyes drift back to the window and to the spot where Minhyuk will die in less than a day. Tears well in your eyes, so you close them before they can fall. “What’s wrong?” His voice is soft and sweet, and you can hear his little lisp as he speaks. “I’m just-“ “If that sentences ends with tired just stop right now. You’re not just tired. Even when you’re tired, you still talk to me, and you’ve been avoiding me.” “Tell me about your friends.” The spot on the street still holds your gaze, but out of the corner of your eye, you catch him shifting in his seat. “Why do you want to know about them?” “I saw you with them the other day, and you all seem so close. I was just wondering how long you’ve known them and why you haven’t mentioned them before.” The lie comes easily. “Ah...” he pauses for a minute. “We’ve known each other since middle school. We’ve always been close, but a year ago...” he pauses again, his voice thick, and your eyes leave their spot on the road to watch him. “Something happened, and we all lost touch for a bit. But, we’re better now and going forward we’ll be by each other’s sides no matter what.” His smile returns, but its light is dimmer now. “I’m sorry. Whatever you went through must have been hard. I’m glad to know you’re better now.” He nods pulling at the straw in his drink. You want to ask him more to know if the event he refers to is the reaper’s death. You want to know who the reaper was, what his name was, and why his death tore them apart instead of bringing them together. But you don’t. You don’t want that smile to dim further. Not today, when today may be his last day. “We should celebrate the end of finals.” You announce breaking Minhyuk out of his gloom. Minhyuk huffs and shakes his head at you. You blush and clear your throat. “I know, I know. I have no right to suggest a celebration after I’ve ignored all of your attempts, but can’t you just accept my apology and we celebrate together?” “You haven’t apologized.” He points out. “I’m sorry.” You add extra cheese to your smile, and he laughs, nodding his head in acceptance. “Fine. But I already have plans to celebrate with my friends tonight. But, I don’t think they’d mind if you tag along.” Your smile falters, but as it does, a determination solidifies in your gut. Tomorrow will come, and it’s outcome may be inevitable, but tonight you can change. “I’m in. When are you meeting up with them?” He checks his imaginary watch, his face twisting in thought. “Now.” He chuckles. You blink at him as he stands up and comes around to your side of the table. “Come on. You said you’d come.” He pulls on your arm, jumping and pouting. The other patrons eyes him, but his antics bring you laughter. Standing, you barely have time to slip on your jacket before he is dragging you out of the coffee shop. You glance once more down the road and make a silent promise. Down the street from your coffee shop is a pub much frequented by college students. The door sticks whenever you try to open it, and you often have to shove it open with a shoulder. But the extra work is worth it when the first whiff of food reaches your nose. The pub has the best local brews on tap, but what it’s truly famous for is its kitchen and the little old lady who works in it. She’s the owners wife, though everyone calls her ma, and she has fed generations of college kids. She calls them her children and never lets any of them leave hungry. It’s here that Minyuk’s friends have gathered. They sit in the booth at the far back corner of the pub, but their presence is palpable from the moment you enter. You hear their laughter first before they come into view. They’re an eclectic group. The two biggest sit at the end, a wall between their friends and the rest of the pub’s patrons. However, despite how muscular the two are, they aren’t intimidating. One looks like a giant teddy bear and the other has a smile nearly as infectious as Minhyuk’s. Two others sit nursing their beers while the third tells a story, his face morphing to match the ridiculous voices of his characters. Minhyuk clears his throat as he approaches, drawing their attention to the two of you. He introduces you first and then his friends. You know their names. They are etched into your memory as clearly as they are on the clock hands. Hyunwoo is the teddy bear, Wonho, the one with the smile. Jooheon is the one making faces. Kihyun smiles at you politely, and Changkyun stands up and bows formally. Minhyuk explains that he’s just weird. The five make room for the two of you and order another round of drinks. Two drinks in, and you feel like you have been friends with these boys all your life. They tell you stories of their high school days, and you nearly choke on your beer. They were reckless, and you wonder how they lived to college. Sitting with them, your mind refuses to believe what tomorrow will bring. Nothing could remove the brightness of these boys’ souls from this world. They belong here with their laughter and their zest for life. After the third drink, your bladder prompts you to stand from the table. The boys are quick to move out of your way. Changkyun even takes your hand to lead you around the booth until you stand on the outside. You chuckle at his antics and promise you’ll be back soon. Halfway to the bathroom, you trip on your own feet and fly face first towards the floor. Someone catches you before impact and places you back on your feet. “Thank you.” You smile as your eyes focus on your savior. “Reaper!” You gasp as you recognize the smooth features and three piece suit. “What are you doing here? What if the other reapers see? Wait. How did you catch me?” “Do you really think this is a good idea?” He hisses. “You answer my questions first.” You wag your finger in his face as you sway from side to side. “You’re drunk.” “Damn right I am. Do you know what I’ve been dealing with the past three days? And where have you been while I’ve been trying to figure out a way to save your friends? Hmmm?” He hushes you and pulls you through the wall and into the bathroom. That sobers you, and you step back as your stomach roils. “What just happened? How did you do that?” “Drinking loosens your grip on the world of the living, just like when you’re exhausted.” “Okay, but never do that again.” You threaten as you crouch down and lower your head between your legs. “Are you okay?” “I’m drunk and was just pulled through a wall. What do you think?” “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that, but people were coming.” He looks away from you, but your eyes stay on him. The world whirls around you, but he stands still in the center of it all. Breathing deeply, you sit back and examine your reaper. No longer does he wear his impassive mask. Worry creases his brow while a frown pulls down the bow of his lips. Your hand itches to smooth the wrinkles and curve the bow into a smile. But the watch hanging on his wrist stills all thoughts. Its tick, tick, tick chases away the last of your buzz, leaving you tired. You meet his eyes and in a whisper say, “I know what tomorrow is. I know what will happen. But I don’t know how to stop it.” A sob chokes you as you admit the truth. You bury your face in your knees, letting your hair form a curtain around you. You can’t look at him. You don’t want to see his face. “If tonight is their last night, I want it to be a celebration.” Tears gurgle your words, but the gentle hand on your shoulder let’s you know he heard. Peaking through your hair, you glimpse his face. Gone is the worry, replaced with defeat. You can see it in the way his shoulders slump and the way his chest rises and falls. The movements are slow and shallow as if he no longer has the strength to breath. “I’m sorry.” The words are his. Pushing back your curtain of hair, you stare at him more fully. He takes a seat next to you, mirroring your posture. His long legs stick out at awkward angles as he pulls them to his chest. For a moment, you glimpse the man he was. You can imagine him as a gangly teen hanging out with Minhyuk and the others ready to get into mischief. “I shouldn’t have come to you. I knew it was a long shot. I was selfish and didn’t care how much it could hurt you.” His voice is a deep whisper, soothing your frazzled mind. You reach over and lace your fingers through his. His hand dwarfs yours, and the feeling eases the weight on your shoulders, reminding you that your hands aren’t the only ones carrying this burden. “Even if you shouldn’t have told me, I don’t regret that you did and I don’t blame you for how I feel. Minhyuk is my friend too, and now the rest of them are. Even if I can’t save them at least I know I tried.” A tear slips down your cheek. His finger is light against your skin as he brushes it away. You smile at him before leaning your head against his shoulder. The stress of the week and all your worries mix with the alcohol to lull you into a half sleep. Your hand remains in your reaper’s as he rubs small circles on the back of it. “You don’t need to worry anymore.” He whispers, brushing your hair off your face. “When my friends go, I’ll go with them, and I’ll take your memories with me, so don’t worry anymore okay?” “Mm.” You mumble snuggling against his neck. A pounding wakes you, and you find yourself alone in the bathroom, propped up against the wall. Minhyuk’s shouts can be heard through the door, threatening to come into the bathroom if you don’t come out. Pushing yourself to your feet, you pull open the door to stop your friend from getting himself in trouble. With a start, you realize he’s not alone. Hyunwoo stands behind him, and the look on his face lets you know that Minhyuk wouldn’t have charged into the bathroom alone. You apologize profusely, telling them you fell asleep. They decide that means it’s time to call it a night. You argue against the decision, but it’s six against one. They walk you back to your apartment and wish you goodnight while promising to get home safely. Watching them walk away, you almost wish they wouldn’t. If something happened to them tonight would that mean that they wouldn’t die tomorrow? Entering your apartment, you throw your purse on the floor and trudge to your bed collapsing on it. You stare at the ceiling as tears race down the sides of your face. Your mind is full of their smiles and laughter and the crazy stories they have, but overlaying each happy memory is the image of their car tumbling over and over and the feeling as each of their souls leaves this world. All you have to do is interfere at the moment of death, but how do you interfere in a car accident? The thought chases itself through your mind, lulling you into oblivion. Music blares from your phone, pulling you out of sleep. Sunlight fills your room, and you wonder when the sun rose. Your phone continues to sing to you, so you slide your finger across it and bring it to your ear. “Hello?” “Wow, you sound horrible. Did you sleep at all last night?” Minhyuk chirps at you, and his voice is so bright and cheerful it makes your insides twist. “I can’t remember.” You croak. “I was calling to see if you wanted to get breakfast with us where going to that dinner down the street from the coffee shop you like, but I think you should just go back to sleep.” “By the coffee shop? Are you driving there?” Your voice quavers with panic, and your hand shakes so much that you can barely keep the phone against your face. Silence fills your ear. “Minhyuk!” “Calm down.” He chuckles. “Hoseok was talking to me. I’ve got to go. Hyunwoo just pulled the car around. Get some sleep. I’ll talk to you later.” “No! Minhyuk! No!” But the line is dead. “Minhyuk. Minhyuk.” You fumble with your phone as you call him back. Your call goes straight to voice mail as does your second and third. “No. No. No.” You whisper as your clock flashes the time at you. How could you have fallen asleep? How could you have wasted so much time? You try to call again as you throw on shoes and a jacket but still no answer. You have to get to the coffee shop. You have to stop this from happening. Hyolyn is coming out of her apartment as you race down the stairs. In your mad dash, you plow right into her. Both of you go flying as do your purses and everything in them. You stutter out an apology as you shove everything back in your purse. Her keys sit next to your foot, and as you reach for them your mind starts turning over an idea. Hyolyn hasn’t noticed the keys yet. She’s still busy collecting everything else. Your hand closes over the keys, pulling them to your chest. With a final apology, you race past her. What your about to do is illegal and crazy and stupid, but with any luck it’ll work. Hyolyn’s car is older than both of you and wears its years without grace, making it easy to spot parked on the curb of your building. You hurry to it and start it up before Hyolyn makes it out of the building to find you stealing her car. You make a silent promise to pay her back and speed away towards the coffee shop. Your eyes shift between the road and the clock, and you push the gas a little harder, zooming between the cars around you. “Stop the car.” The words jolt you and nearly send you swerving into the car on your left. “What the fuck?” You screech at your reaper who now sits in the passenger seat. “Can’t you see I’m driving?” “Stop the car now!” You remain silent as you continue to switch between lanes. “What the hell are you thinking?” “You asked for my help, and I’m helping.” “I also told you not to worry, but you’re choosing to ignore that.” “I can’t let them die.” “So you’re going to die instead?” His voice is a slap to your conscious, and your foot eases off the gas. Taking a deep breath, you swallow the lump in your throat and continue. “I might not die. The man who saved me didn’t die. We both survived that. All seven of us might survive this.” “You were a little girl who fell on him. These are cars colliding. You really think you’ll survive this?” “If I stop now, they die.” “And if you continue, you die.” “You warned me helping them could lead to death.” You reason with him and yourself. “I knew the consequences when I agreed.” “This isn’t what I was talking about. There was the possibility that Death would learn what we planned and send the reapers for you. You’ve escaped the reapers’ notice. You’re in no danger now, so stop the car.” He lungs across the car to pull your hands off the wheel, but his hands pass straight through you. “I’m fully in the world of the living. There’s nothing you can do to stop me.” The coffee shop looms before you, and the clock ticks away. “Y/N, look at me.” The way he says your name breaks your heart, but you refuse his request. “I won’t let you take my memories.” He growls, and you know if he could he would pound the dash. “What do I look like to you?” The question is pointless, but you need a distraction. “What? What does that matter? Stop the car!” “Everything looks blurry in the world of the dead. Do I look blurry to you?” “You’re vibrant.” His voice pulls your eyes to him and nearly robs you of your resolve.

“Y/N, please.” He pleads. Closing your eyes, you push on the accelerator. Tears stream down your face as the car lurches forward coming abreast with the boys’ car. The moment of death, you can’t interfere until the moment of death or your sacrifice will be useless. “Stop the car!” He screams as the car in front of you runs the red light. You thrust your foot against the accelerator, peeling out in front of the boys. You hear their tires squeal then the ear shattering screech of metal pushed beyond its limit then nothing. The world goes silent around you.

The void surrounds you, and this time your reaper is not there to center you. You are alone surrounded by black nothingness, but the fear you had before no longer exists. You exist in this void free from all emotion. You’re waiting. For what, you don’t know, but you know you must wait.

Steps sound behind you and beside you and all around. Whirling, you search for their source, but nothing disrupts the blackness. It continues in an unbroken ribbon around you. The foot steps stop. You are not alone. A woman stands before you hunched over a cane, but when you blink, you realize you were wrong. She is a young man with an inquisitive brow. You blink again and he is both man and woman. You blink again and they are neither. “You’re Death.” Your voice echos through the void, and the being in front of you smiles and nods. “So I died.”

The beings shakes its head. “So I’m alive.” The being shakes its head again.

“The void exists between life and death.” It’s voice is deep and soft but loud and forceful. It surrounds you and resounds inside of you. “You Are neither alive nor dead, so you exist within the void.”

“Will I die?” It tilts its head and fixes you with a cursory gaze.

“Do you want to die?” The question is simple curiosity, and you find you don’t know how to answer. “I wouldn’t mind if you did. Twice you have eluded me. Once happens. I’m quite busy. The dead far out weight the living after all. But twice.” Death tsks at you, and the emotions you thought you were free of return. Worry creeps through your veins. Death likes order. Your Reaper had reminded you many times.

“Will I die?” You ask again. Dying doesn’t worry you, but Death does. The look in its ever shifting eyes leaves you with a sense of unease. Your Reaper said that without guidance souls would wander the world of the dead forever. Would Death leave you to wander as penance for your defiance? “Can I become a reaper?”

A slow smile splits Death’s face. “You wish to join my reaper.” Death waves a hand, and your Reaper is before you. He stands still in his three piece suit, his face masked once more. You call to him, but he doesn’t hear you. You take a step towards him but find yourself no closer to him. Death waves a hand again, and he’s gone. You stand, staring at the empty spot.

“I can make you a reaper.” His offer is a choice.

“I don’t have to die.” You meet Death’s gaze, “I’ve asked you twice if I will die and twice you have avoided the question. You offer me the chance to be a reaper, but I don’t have to take it. I don’t have to die. I can live.”

Death nods. “Order sits upon a fulcrum. As you were not supposed to die this time, you won’t have to die, but as you were supposed to die before, you should die. Order would accept either.”

“And my friends?”

Death shrugs. “They didn’t die. I have no right to them.”

“So I can live?”

Death nods. “But order must be restored.” You blink at that. “The living have no part in the world of the dead. If you choose to live, you will be fully in the world of the living with no memory of my world and only death will bring you back to it. Your clock will start again.”

Life is the obvious choice. Life with your family and your friends and all the possibilities that lay before you. It’s what you would have had if your reaper hadn’t come to you. But despite the obviousness of the choice, you don’t make it. Not yet. You pause and think of your reaper. He would want you to choose life. He had begged you to choose life, but still you hesitate. For the rest of your life, you will never see him again. You will never remember him. He stole your memories once, and their absence had gnawed at you, robbing you of sleep and leaving you a shadow of yourself. Could you live that way the rest of your life, knowing you are missing something, feeling half-formed?

“Will my reaper always be a reaper?”

“No.” Death shrugs. “No reapers remain for all eternity. All who were once living must pass on eventually.”

“When would he?”

“Whenever he chooses.” His words from the bar come back to you. He’ll go when his friends come. You stopped their deaths. As long as they live, he will remain a reaper, alone watching over them.

“Can I speak with him?” You want to tell him not to wait that you’ll watch over them for him, and when the time comes, you’ll all join him.

“He has no place here.”

“But you-he-” You point to the space he had occupied.

“An image pulled from your conscious.”

“So I can’t say goodbye?” The words are a whisper.

“You’ve made your choice then.”

You nod. “I want to live.

Voices sound around you. They speak in soft whispers, their words indiscernible, and below the voices is a steady beep, beep, beep. This sound above all others keeps you from slipping back to sleep. Sleep grows further and further from you, and in its place, it leaves pain. Your chest burns with each breath and a dull pain throbs through your right arm. You try to move and adjust yourself, but your body refuses to respond. “I think she’s awake.” A sob warps the whisper, but the words reach you. You are awake, though your eyes won’t open. “Sweetie, can you hear me?” A hand grasp your left hand. “If you can hear me, just squeeze my hand.” The task should be easy, but it takes ever ounce of your strength to curl your fingers around the hand. A sob sounds, and the hand in yours begins to shake. The other voices grow louder and closer, but you’ve used the last of your energy. The next time you wake, you are able to open your eyes. Your mother sleeps in a chair to your left. You call to her, but your voice is a croak in the silence. She still hears it and is up and at your side in an instant. Over the next few days, consciousness returns in greater lengths. You learn you were in an accident, and that you nearly died. Minhyuk comes to see you the day after you opened your eyes. He cries when he sees you awake and runs from the room. Your mother brings him back, and he apologizes saying that it’s all his fault. He forgot his phone after he hung up with you, and he should have just told Hyunwoo to come pick you up. Hyunwoo and the others come later that day. They bring you flowers and balloons, and all of them bare the same face as Minhyuk. They blame themselves for what happened. The crash is a blur in your memory, but you assure them it wasn’t their fault. You had been driving recklessly. If anyone is to blame, it is you. None of them accept that, and they proceed to dote on you during your stay in the Hospital. When the doctor clears you to leave, you cry in relief. Your apartment is blessedly empty, and you tell the boys that if they come over you will personally unman them. The silence in your room is a comfort, but even still it weighs heavy on your shoulders. The silence holds something a question? A memory? Whatever it is, it remains just out of your reach. When the boys invite you to their Christmas party, you gladly accept. Getting ready is difficult. A cast still wraps itself around your right arm, and you struggle to zip up your dress. The boys said it is an informal party, but you’ve been wearing nothing but hospital gowns for the past week. You want to feel pretty tonight. Checking yourself out in the mirror, you catch a glimpse of something in the corner of your room, but when you look, you find the spot empty. Shaking your head, you slip on your jacket. You’ve had several similar instances since returning to your apartment. Walking down the stairs, you smile at Hyolyn as she exits her apartment. Your near death experience had deflated any anger she had about you totaling her car. Plus, she had been planning on scrapping it any way. The two of you walk down the stairs together, chatting about your holiday plans and predicting what the coming semester will bring. When you walk out into the chill winter night, you find Hyunwoo waiting for you with his car. The sight sends a chill down your spine, unrelated to the winter wind, but you swallow your trepidation and smile as Hyunwoo holds the door open for you. The party is at Hyunwoo and Kihyun’s apartment. There are more people than the seven of you. The boys have quite a collection of friends. And you find yourself keeping to the fringes of the party, exploring the boys’ apartment rather than interacting with the unfamiliar faces. As look through their bookshelves, your eye catches on a photo. Judging by the boys’ faces, it must be from their high school days. You smile as you pick out baby Changkyun and Hoseok before he started working out. Your smile falters as you notice a seventh member in the group. He’s sitting next to Minhyuk with his long legs pulled up to his chest. A lazy smile graces his face. As you stare, tears fill yours eyes. “That’s Hyungwon.” Minhyuk’s words jolt you back to the present. You clear your throat and wipe at your eyes before he can see your tears. You don’t even know why you were crying.

“You guys seem really close with him. Why haven’t I met him yet?”

“He died a year ago.” The knowledge tugs at a memory, but when you try to grasp it, it flies away. You’re left staring at Minhyuk flapping your mouth as you try to formulate a response. Minhyuk throws an arm around your shoulder and guides you away from the picture. “We should be celebrating. You’re alive and well, and Christmas is around the corner.” You nod and let Minhyuk pull you back into the party. Neither of you notice the man standing by the bookshelf. He stands, elegant in his three piece suit. His face, smooth and crisp in its shape, holds no emotion. His arms hang languidly at his side, the thumb of his left hand loops lazily in his pocket, pushing up his sleeve and revealing the edge of a worn watch, the first of seven he will wear.

#hmw #monsta x dramarama #monsta x drabbles #hyungwon #chae hyungwon #hyungwon drabbles #monsta x scenarios #hyungwon scenarios

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manygalaxiesinone · 6 years

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Everything Wrong With: Undertale (Spoilers...Duh!)

1. (This game’s fanbase. And no, I’m not talking about the ones that make the awkward fan-art or fanfictions. I personally see those as ways of showing your enjoyment in the franchise and how much you want to see more of it. You like what you like and I won’t judge you for it, even if I’m not particularly fond of it myself. I’m talking about those shmucks that get triggered whenever someone points out one little flaw about the game and won’t hesitate to bash anyone for doing so. Look, I understand that this is Toby’s first official game that he’s made, but that doesn’t escape criticism. In fact, you could make the argument that it should be more than welcomed in order to see more improvements if he ever decides to make another. Also, I’m not saying that everyone in the fandom is like that, but for those who ARE like that, you know who you are.) +1 fandom sin

2. –Cue Opening- (“Dearly Beloved” inferiority music. Look, don’t get me wrong, I love the music in this game, but when push comes to shove, you can’t really deny the similarities. And while we’re at it, let’s go ahead and include the Kingdom Hearts Counter. Same as the Persona counter in the Orphen post, if there’s anything that put Kingdom Hearts on the brain, the counter goes up. Granted, there hasn’t been any confirmation about Toby Fox being a Kingdom Hearts fan, nor any of this being inspired by Kingdom Hearts, but as I said before, the similarities are difficult to ignore. And more and more people are starting to open their eyes to this.) KH: +1

3. (All the fans making theories about how Frisk climbed up Mt. Ebott in order to commit suicide even though we clearly see them tripping over a branch and falling down the hole on top by accident in the very opening cutscene. Just something I want to point out for you guys.)

4. (Yeah, I’m calling bullshit here. Even if something broke their fall, Frisk should at least be suffering from some sort of pain after landing for a bit.) +1

5. Flowey: “LOVE is shared through little white…”friendliness pellets”.” (Man I feel sorry for any fan who actually fell for this during their first playthrough. I don’t even need to watch Jackscepticeye play to notice this obvious trap.) +1

6. –Cue Toriel saving Frisk from Flowey- (“Saving the hero in the nick of time” cliché) +1

7. (Forced Tutorial Murderer. Yes, I am aware that Toby made Toriel as a joke for those games that do major hand-holding and does pretty much all the work for you. Still it doesn’t mean that everyone has to go through the lessons itself if they don’t want to, especially considering the argument on how this game is best played knowing as little as possible the first way through it. Keep tutoring as an optional choice in your games guys!) +1

8. (What makes it even worse is that you don’t run into the puzzles you got through here later on in the game. Kind of making it even more pointless.) +1

9. Toriel: “Do you prefer butterscotch or cinnamon?” (Your choice does not matter here since she’ll just end up making a pie using both butterscotch and cinnamon.) +1

10. Toriel: “A room of your own. I hope you like it.” (convenient spare room is convenient.) +1

11. Toriel: “Do you smell something burning?” (Well I guess it’s a good thing I ignored her orders and came here on my own, otherwise Toriel would’ve burned the place to the ground by leaving the oven on to cook the pie as she was picking me up.) +1

12. Chara: “Oh! It’s a water sausage!” (This is only a sin if you’re thinking the exact same thing as I am.) +1

13. (Yet another detail that debunks the “Frisk Suicide” fan theory in my eyes. If Frisk was really irritated by their life on the surface, then why is there even an “option” to ask how to return there? And I say “option” because you can’t progress the story unless you pick that option. Believe me, I tried. There’s no ending where you get to stay in the ruins living with Toriel. If Frisk really didn’t want to return home before this whole adventure started, then try to leave here? Probably would have been much happier staying here with Toriel instead of back home, right?)

14. Toriel: “This may come as a surprise to you, but I always wanted to be a teacher.” (You mean you’re not one? You certainly look like one.) +1

15. Toriel: “This is your home now.” (Kidnapping) +1

16. Toriel: “Ahead of us lies the end of the ruins. A one-way exit to the rest of the underground. I am going to destroy it. Every human that falls down here meets the same fate. I have seen it again and again. They come. They leave. They die.” (Considering the amount of humans that actually went through the underground before Frisk, I just had to ask, why didn’t Toriel just destroy the damn exit to stop more of them from dying after watching either the second or third one go? It’s not like she had any intentions on leaving the place and her conversation with Sans didn’t happen until after the death of whomever came here right before Frisk.) +1

17. Toriel: “You want to leave so badly? Hmph. There is only one solution to this. Prove yourself. Prove to me you are strong enough to survive.” (Let’s see, a character who controls fire, that is rather protective of the main character for personal reasons, and tries to stop the person they care about so much from getting themselves killed by fighting them.

Yeah, that doesn’t sound familiar at all.) KH: +1

18. Flowey: “You spared the life of a single person.” (Uhh, no I didn’t. I spared the life of all the monsters that tried to attack me while I was on my way to Toriel’s home.) +1

19. Flowey: “What will you do if you meet a relentless killer? You’ll die and you’ll die and you’ll die.” (Not unless you have mad dodging skills and simply avoid everything being thrown at you, or better yet, if you’re tough enough to survive any attack being thrown at you.) +1

20. (Minus one sin for Flowey’s laugh.

Even I have to agree that Tomba deserves more love.) -1

21. (Nearly 30 minus into the game and the opening credits pop up.) +1

22. Sans: “Hehehe…the old whoopee cushion in the hand trick.” (Sans uses a whoopee cushion in the hand instead of the true classic, the tazer/buzzer) +1

23. (Also, Comic Sans.) +1

24. Sans: “Quick, behind that conveniently-shaped lamp.” (Do I really need to say anything here?) +1

25. (Here’s an online drinking game for ya. Take a shot every time you come across a lets-player voicing Papyrus as Skeletor. Just providing him that voice at least one time during the entire playthrough is enough. From what I’ve seen so far, I suggest you take non-alcoholic drinks first before doing the real deal. Just trying to make sure no one dies on my hands.)

26. (Also, Papyrus.) +1

27. Sans: “Hey, take it easy. I’ve gotten a ton of work done today. A “skele-ton.” (Puns! Quimps! Jokes! And oh my this game has many of them. And it’s not just from Sans.) +1

28. Papyrus: “As for your work. Put a little more…”backbone” into it.” (No “badum tish” noise for Papyrus’s pun.) +1

29. Sans: “Okay, he’s gone. You can come out now.” (Please refer to the “Hungertale” comic series for the reason behind this particular sin.) +1

30. Sans: “My brother’s been kinda down lately… He’s never seen a human before and seeing you just might make his day. Don’t worry, he’s not dangerous.” (THEN WHAT THE FUCK WAS THE POINT OF HIDING ME?!!) +1

31. Papyrus: “Sans! Oh my God! Is that…a human?” Sans: “Actually, I think that’s a rock.” (The fuck did that rock come from?!) +1

32. Sans: “Hey, what’s that in front of the rock?” (…Really nigga?) +1

33. Papyrus: “Sans, I finally did it!” (No you didn’t. You just spotted me. You didn’t capture me yet.) +1

34. Papyrus: “Continue on, if you dare!” (Papyrus runs away instead of attacking now and trying to capture me. This is especially sinful in terms of the genocide route because it gives anyone who takes that route a chance to become stronger. I know you can’t die by Papyrus, but that doesn’t mean he shouldn’t try to stop you right now.) +1

35. Chara: “Someone’s been smoking dog treats.” (Smoking dog treats.) +1

36. (Sans giving us the optional tutorial on the effects of blue attacks…after going through a battle with an opponent who uses nothing but blue attacks.) +1

37. Papyrus: “You are so lazy! You were napping all night!” Sans: “I think that’s called sleeping.” Papyrus: “Excuses, excuses!” (Papyrus is turning into my older brother. That’s NOT a good thing.) +1

38. (Papyrus…FAIL!!!) +1

39. Nice-Cream guy: “Do you want some nice-cream? It’s the frozen treat that warms your heart.” (How does a frozen treat like ice-cream warm your heart? Is it made out of something that warm people’s hearts, like love? Compassion? Sea-salt?

Oh wait-) KH: +1

40. Sans: “Want some fried snow? It’s just 5G.” (Fried snow) +1

41. (No option to actually do the crossword puzzle.) +1

42. Which is harder? Jumble or Crossword? (Neither. It’s Sudoku) +1

43. Chara: “It’s a plate of frozen spaghetti. It’s so cold, it’s stuck to the table.” (How?! Did Sub-Zero come by recently?) +1

44. Chara: “It has entered the realm of the clouds.” (How is that possible if we’re trapped underground?) +1

45. Papyrus: “Fret not human! I, master chef Papyrus, will make you all the pasta you could ever want!” (Granted, his cooking sucks, but this never happens) +1

46. (One of the trees hides a button that automatically solves the puzzle for you.) +1

47. (This puzzle is pointless. Both here and the one you go to later when you face Mettaton.) +1

48. (Snow poffs.) +1

49. Papyrus: “Behold! The gauntlet of deadly terror!”

(Eh, not really as threatening as the one made by those business men Finn and Jake hired.) +1

50. Papyrus: “This challenge, it seems…maybe too easy to defeat the human with. Yeah! We can’t use this one! I am a skeleton with standards! My puzzles are very fair and my traps are expertly cooked! But this method is too direct! No class at all! Away it goes! *phew* What are you looking at?” (Tsundere!) +1

51. Shop woman: “We all know that freedom is coming, don’t we? As long as we got that hope, we can grit our teeth and face the same struggles day after day. That’s life, ain’t it?” (For some reason I feel a tad uncomfortable…whether or not it makes me think of slavery or cult stories that also used said lines before.) +1

52. Bear: “There’s never usually a problem. But if there is, a skeleton will tell a fish lady about it. Thaaaaaaaat’s politics!” (The politics in this game is similar to politics in real life.) +1

53. The Library sign is misspelled. +1

54. Papyrus: “No. No, this is all wrong! I can’t be your friend. You are a human. I must capture you! Then, I can fulfill my lifelong dream!” (Trading friendship for power cliché) +1

55. Papyrus: “I am a skeleton with very high standards.” Frisk: “I can make spaghetti.” Papyrus: “Oh no! You’re meeting all of my standards!” (Now that was easy.) +1

56. Papyrus: “I guess this means I have to go on a date with you.” (Not really. You can say “no” dood.) +1

57. (Anime powder) +1

58. (Toby Fox) +1

59. Papyrus: “Hey! You stupid dog!” (Papyrus doesn’t try to scare Toby by putting on a scary mask) +1

60. Papyrus: “Wowie! We haven’t even had our first date, and I’ve already managed to hit the friend-zone.” (Fail!) +1

61. Papyrus: “Who knew that all I needed to make pals was to give people awful puzzles and then fight them?” (Eh, not too far off on how friendships are usually made in games. It’s still fucked up and sinful though.) +1

62. (*Cue the Pokemon tutorial music*) +1

63. Papyrus: “What? It’s usually better than this. This is just a bad episode, don’t judge me.” (Practically what every Fire Emblem fan said after my review of “Shadow Dragon”. Only difference is that I’m not judging them for liking it, they’re judging me for hating it.) +1

64. (Dammit Toby!) +1

65. Papyrus: “I have a theory. I think that humans…must have descended from skeletons!” (But it’s just a theory.

A game theory!) +1

66. Papyrus: “I snagged an official dating book from the library!” (Learning how to date from a book.) +1

67. Papyrus: “I have never been beaten at dating, and I never will!” (You said this was your first date, you liar! Who got to you first?! It was Jim wasn’t it!

Damn him and his giant purple dildo!) +1

68. (No option to sneak a kiss from Papyrus while in inspection mode.) +1

69. Papyrus: “Holding my hand so I’ll tell you the answer…No! I must resist!” (Oh so NOW, you’re against hand holding, huh?) +1

70. (How can a plate of spaghetti fit under a hat?) +1

71. (And in the end, Papyrus is the one that friend-zones you. This is the equivalent of Junpei friend-zoning you in Persona 3 Portable, and people weren’t too happy about that either.) +1

72. Sans: “Fortunately, two jobs mean twice the legally required breaks.” (If only.) +1

73. (No option to have both fries and a burger together.) +1

74. (Two burgers are 10000G?!

That’s outrageous!) +1

75. Papyrus: “How did I get this number?” (Wait, you mean, I didn’t give you my number when you gave me yours? My character is rude.) +1

76. Papyrus: “So…What are you wearing?” (Hey, I thought we agreed that we’re only friends!) +1

77. (No matter what you do, Undyne will be able to find you and attack you. The various ways of how Papyrus was able to unintentionally rat you out is irrelevant. It still counts as an illusion of choice; therefore it counts as a sin.) +1

78. (How did Monster Kid get ahead of me?) +1

79. Chara: “This cheese has been here so long, a magical crystal has grown around it.” (How?!) +1

80. Sans: “It’s normally 50000G to use this premium telescope, but since I know you, you can use it for free.” (After I use it…) Sans: “Huh? You aren’t satisfied? Don’t worry. I’ll give you a full refund.” (Okay, THAT one was funny.) -1

81. (No matter what you do, Toby will always take off with the artifact.) +1

82. Monster Kid: “Yo! How cool would it be if Undyne came to school?! She could beat up all the teachers!” (As if teachers don’t have enough crap to deal with. I’m not saying that all teachers are good, because there are indeed some that are total asshats that shouldn’t be in a school, but there are also plenty of teachers that are underpaid despite their hard work and dedication,

even if they began to lose their passion every now and then.) +1

83. Text: “In the end, it could hardly be called a war.” (I dunno. There do exist some pretty short wars out there. Some lasting only a few minutes.) +1

84. (Undyne uses her spears to break the bridge, hoping Frisk would die from the fall…instead of just, you know, attacking head on while they’re in a corner with nowhere to run.) +1

85. Mad Dummy: “My cousin used to live inside a dummy, UNTIL YOU CAME ALONG!!! When you spoke to them, they thought they were in for a nice chat. But the things you said, horrible! Shocking! It spooked them right out of their dummy!” (Clearly this guy is referring to the training dummy in the beginning of the game and the only ghost I could think of that could have been possessing it at the time would be Napstablook. If that’s the case, then shouldn’t he know that Napstablook is not used to receiving positive feedback from other people outside of Mettaton?) +1

86. Chara: “Mad Dummy is getting cotton all over the dialogue box.” (What cotton? I don’t see any cotton anywhere on the screen.) +1

87. Mad Dummy: “Failures! You’re fired! You’re all getting replaced!” (Says this even though we see more normal dummies show up later on in the fight.) +1

88. Mad Dummy: “Bot Dummies, magic missile!” (Hey, if you didn’t want to get hit by magic, then why are you still using magic based attacks that can still hurt you?) +1

89. –Lies down with Napstablook and views the cosmos- -5

90. –Some of the enemies leave while the one of the spooktunes plays in the background- (I appreciate details like that, having the music show different effects on the monsters you encounter. I hope this becomes better implemented in future games. I don’t mean by Toby Fox. I meant gaming in general.) -3

91. (Even if you do somehow manage to win the snail race, you’ll only get 9 out the 10G you spent back.) +1

92. Text: “Seven of their greatest magicians sealed us underground with a magic spell.” (Unless if those magicians got magical powers from interbreeding with monsters years ago and the ability to used magic remained in the bloodlines of certain people after so many years like how it works in Orphen, how are humans able to use magic when it’s clearly been established that only monsters can use magic because of how different they’re souls are compared to humans?) +1

93. Text: “If a huge power equivalent to seven human souls attacks the barrier, it will be destroyed.” (This right here is the exact premise of Kingdom Hearts 1, where Xehanort’s Heartless gathered Seven Princesses of Heart to use their hearts in order to destroy the seal leading to the Kingdom Hearts containing the hearts of all worlds and obtain ultimate power.) KH: +10

94. (Temmies have the same name gimmick as the Vikings from Spongebob.) +1

95. Temmie: “TEM…WATCH EGG!!! Egg… wil HATCH!!! Tem… PROUD PARENT!!!” (I know it doesn’t matter anyway since the egg is hard boiled, but don’t eggs need to be kept warm by either being placed in incubators or gently sat on by anything that’s not heavy enough to crush them in order to hatch?) +1

96. (The Tem shop, literally the only place where you can sell your items in the entire game. It’s even more sinful since not only is Temmie is trying to save up money to go to college, yet she’s willing to buy anything off you that you can sell, but Toby himself has pointed out that he’s not a fan of back-tracking in games, which is why he included many shortcuts like the duck and boat-keeper; however no matter where you are in the game, if you have something you want to sell in order to make some money, you have to go straight to the Tem shop to sell it, no matter how far away of it you are.) +10

97. (And while we’re on the subject, I’m also including Dog Residue as a sin because it’s practically worthless. Yeah, you can use it to fill your inventory and sell a whole bunch at a time, sometime including dog salads, but Tem would only buy them for less than 10G each and the dog salads you could get can be used as healing items, but the effectiveness of them are based on RNG. You’re simply better off going to the old turtle’s store, buying a bunch of cloud glasses and fill up your boxes and inventory and sell them instead.) +1

98. Undyne: “He will finally take the surface back from humanity and give them back the pain and suffering that we have endured. Understand , human? This is your only chance of redemption.” (Sins of the father much Undyne?) +1

99. (How is Monster Kid holding on to the ledge without any hands?) +1

100. (Undyne repeats some of the dialogue she said before about Asgore needing seven souls.) +1

101. Undyne: “First however, as is customary for those who make it this far, I shall tell you the tragic tale of our people. It all started, long ago… No, you know what, SCREW IT! WHY SHOULD I TELL YOU THAT STORY, WHEN YOU’RE ABOUT TO DIE?!!” (Undyne would be great for gaming sins. I always wondered that myself in video games.) -1

102. Undyne: “You know what would be more valuable? If you were dead!” (Character believing that someone’s death would make the world better cliché. It kinda makes me think how messed up everyone is if people keeps putting that in their games.) +1

103. (You know for someone who’s eager to fight, Undyne is pretty patient. Not only will she wait for you to end your call with Papyrus later on, but she’ll wait around if you go off into another area to collect items and stuff. No matter how long you’re gone, she’ll be around, ready to battle.) +1

104. Undyne’s stats: 7 attack and 0 defense. (That’s pretty weak for the captain of the royal guard who fought her way to the top.) +1

105. (You know Undyne, if you didn’t want me to escape, then why do you keep changing me from green to normal?) +1

106. (How is a simple cup of water enough to completely cool off Undyne?) +1

107. Undyne: “Are you ready for your extra private one-on-one training?” Papyrus: “You bet I am! I even brought a friend!” (Then, how is this an extra private one-on-one training session?) +1

108. –Papyrus jumps out the window- (Jump out the window! {Like a boss!}) -1

109. Undyne: “I’ll make you like me so much, you won’t think of anyone else!” (Undyne goes from enemy to yandere in a matter of moments.) +1

110. Undyne: “You wanna see my room? Too bad! No nerds allowed! Well, maybe some nerds.” (Bow-chicka-wow-woooow) -1

111. GOD DAMMIT TOBY!!! +1

112. Undyne: “Hot fridge, world’s greatest invention!” (Pretty sure that’s called a “warmer”. Also, wouldn’t keeping food in there for too long cause it to spoil faster?) +1

113. –Tea, blatantly the correct choice!- (That’s this game’s way of saying “You won’t progress the story unless you pick this option.”) +1

114. Undyne: “I don’t know if I could ever let Papyrus into the royal guard. It’s not that he’s weak. He’s actually pretty freaking tough! It’s just that… He’s too innocent and nice! I mean, look, he was supposed to capture you… and he ended up being friends with you instead!” (You mean kind of like what you’re doing now?) +1

115. (Also, Goofy would like to have a word with you.) KH: +1

116. Undyne: “Wait a second…Papyrus…his cooking lesson…HE WAS SUPPOSED TO HAVE THAT RIGHT NOW!!! And if he’s not here to have it…YOU’LL HAVE TO HAVE IT FOR HIM!!!” (I see that Undyne went to the Phil school of replacing trainees. “What’s that? Hercules didn’t show up for training? Better train the next person I see.”) KH: +1

117. (Inability to Falcon Punch the vegetables. I don’t care if this is the pacifist route) +1

118. Undyne: “Next, we add the noodles!” (Common kitchen mistake: Putting in the noodles BEFORE boiling the water. Heck, if you throw the noodles in the pot fiercely, it’s pointed out that it makes a noise once it reaches the bottom, indicating that there’s no water in it at all. It’s no wonder her house burns down later.) +1

119. Undyne: “TURN UP THE HEAT!!! Let the stovetop symbolize your passion! Let your hopes and dreams turn into burning fire!”

(Inability to play “Blaze” and go Yukimura Sanada to release your inner fire. Now THAT’S an epic way to burn the house down.) +1

120. Undyne: “The way you hit me, it reminded me of someone I used to train with.” (I can’t help but wonder who she is talking about. It can’t be Asgore since he refused to fight back at all during their training and it can’t be Papyrus since she’s training him now.) +1

121. (Yeah, I’m pretty sure fire doesn’t just remain in the house after it burns it down.) +1

122. Guard 1: “Sorry… Undyne, like, told us there was totally a human in the area. So, like, us royal guards are blocking off the elevators for now.” (Inability to ask Undyne to get her to tell these two guards to not hunt you down and fight you if you managed to get through her date mini-game before coming to this point.) +1

123. Sonic: “Always wanted to be on TV!” +1

124. (Discount Namine) KH: +1

125. Alphys: “I was originally going to stop you, but… Watching someone on screen really makes you root for them.” (Says this even though in the Genocide route, the only thing she did to try to stop us is making a new up-grade to Mettaton…which basically kills him off in one hit.) +1

126. (Discount Markiplier) +1

127. Mettaton: “ANSWER CORRECTLY… OR YOU DIE!!!” (Says this even though if we get one wrong, we just take damage. The way he worded it made sound like it would be instant death if we got something wrong. Granted, we later find out that it’s just an act created by Alphys. Still a sin.) +1

128. Mettaton’s Stats: 10 attack, 999 DEF. Chara: “His metal body makes him invulnerable to attack.” (If that’s the case, then why bother making upgrades for him, especially in terms of the genocide run, in which case Alphys is no where around to help you out, so you won’t know about the switch on his back to get him to change forms? That way, we won’t be able to damage Mettaton at all, no matter what we do, literally.) +1

129. (Alphys gives us a phone upgrade and added us as friends on the social network she’s using, however the game doesn’t allow us to use the network ourselves and Alphys never gave us her phone number, so we have no way of contacting her.) +1

130. Alphys Text: “I just realized I didn’t watch Undyne fight the human.” (Considering that’s the ONE person you care the most about, you’d think she’d make watching THAT fight top priority considering the chances of us killing each other.) +1

131. (How does a volcano make lightning attacks?) +1

132. (Tsunderplane!) +1

133. Alphys Text: “OMG I DID IT!!! Claws haven’t shook like that since Undyne called me to ask about the weather…Wait, we don’t have weather down here. Why did she call?” (Alphys would be great for gamingsins. I’d hire her if she was real and I had the money to pay her.) +1

134. Alphys Text: “I wonder if it would be unfun if I explain the puzzle.” (Eh, just explain the rules on how the puzzles work and you’ll be fine. Anymore than that is practically handholding. This is something that developers should definitely take note of.)

135. Mettaton: “WE’RE GOING TO BE MAKING A CAKE!!!” (The cake is a lie. It’s always a lie. How so? After we finish baking the damn thing, we can’t include it in our inventory. Not even a slice of it like the pie we got from Toriel.) +1

136. Mettaton: “WE NEED SUGAR, MILK, AND EGGS!!!” (Pretty sure those aren’t the ONLY ingredients needed to make ANY cake, especially since we don’t have mix to be used.) +1

137. Chara: “It’s an oven. Looks like someone forgot to preheat it.” (Common cooking mistake, and since it’s on a show that teaches cooking, that’s extra sinful.) +1

138. (Frisk does nothing as Mettaton is clearly coming toward them with an active chainsaw. And this is the Pacifist route. Granted, it’s all an act, but are they really not going to try to run at all?) +1

139. Alphys: “What if someone’s…vegan?” (Then we’d have to find substitutes for both the milk and eggs as well.) +1

140. Mettaton: “ACTUALLY, I HAPPEN TO HAVE AN OPTION RIGHT HERE!!! MTT-BRAND ALWAYS-CONVENIENT HUMAN-SOUL-FLAVOR-SUBSTITUTE!!!” (Okay, a few things, one convenience!) +1

141. (Two, how exactly does that work? Is it some sort of mystery food that tastes like a soul or is it like the fake emerald from Sonic Adventure two where it’s almost like a soul, but not really?) +1

142. (And finally, does this mean that monsters eat human souls? If that’s the case then it’s no wonder humanity declared war on them.) +1

143. Mettaton: “BY THE WAY, OUR SHOW RUNS ON A STRICT SCHEDULE.” (Says this even though nothing will happen if we just waltz around and don’t go near the substitute.) +1

144. –inserts Jetpack Joyride theme- +1

145. Heats Flamesman: “I’m Heats Flamesman, remember my name!”

KH: +1

146. (Also not only will you not have to remember his name because the game doesn’t give you the option to tell him what his name is, but he would still feel defeated regardless of whether or not you tell him you remembered.) +1

147. Monster: “Hey, isn’t it weird that there’s snow on that guy’s roof?” (This random monster would be great for gaming sins. We’re currently in hotland, a place filled with lava. The heat from the place should have definitely melted the snow by now.) +1

148. Chara: “The “meat” is made of something called a “water sausage”.” (Impossible hot-dog. See game, you’re not the only one that can make puns.) +1

149. (Inability to walk around to other areas with a hotdog on your head. The least they could do is having it knocked down the moment we get hit by something.) +1

150. RG 01 Stats: 8 attack 4 Defense. (See what I mean? How does one of Undyne’s underlings have higher attack AND defense if Undyne is supposed to be the captain? I know she’s tougher to beat in her genocide run, but you’d think her base form would be tougher than that by at least a little) +1

151. Alphys Text: “Oops, how’s the human doing?” (You had one job. ONE JOB!!!) +1

152. Mettaton: “IT’S A SUPER JUICY SNEAK PREVIEW OF MY LATEST GARUNTEED NOT TO BOMB FILM!!!” (Liar!) +1

153. Mettaton: “IT CONSISTS MOSTLY OF A SINGLE FOUR-HOUR SHOT OF ROSE PETALS SHOWING ON MY RECLINING BODY.” (Still sounds better than “Fifty Shades of Grey”)

154. Mettaton: “THIS BIG BOMB WILL BLOW YOU TO SMITHERINES IN TWO MINUTES!!!” (That clearly says 5 minutes right on the bomb.) +1

155. Mettaton: “OUR NINE VIEWERS ARE GOING TO LOVE THIS!!!” (News show that focuses on violence for the sake of views cliché. Yeah I know this all fake. Still a sin.) +1

156. Chara: “Buy a spider doughnut for 9999G?”

(9999G?! That’s outrageous!) +1

157. Alphys: “Well, I hope you agree with me about Mew Mew 2!” (That would require me to actually watch it first Alphys.) +1

158. Alphys: “Uh, hey, would you want to watch a human TV show together???” (No matter what option you choose, you will never watch anime with Alphys.) +1

159. Alphys: “It’s all about this human girl named Mew Mew who has cat ears, which humans don’t have so she’s all sensitive about them! But like…eventually, she realizes that her ears don’t matter! That her friends like her despite her ears!” (So, she’s basically Felicia from Darkstalkers, just not as awesome since Felicia is a demon that was raised by nuns and uses her popularity as an idol to fight against discrimination?) +1

160. (How do I get covered up in more web when I’m walking on it and not crawling around or anything?) +1

161. (Why did it take the spiders so long to inform Muffet that I bought one of their doughnuts while in the ruins?) +1

162. –watches Mettaton’s performance- (Eh, 5/10. Needs Mettaton to hold Frisk’s hand and make eye contact.) +1

163. (Also, discount Aerith’s theme from Final Fantasy 7) +1

164. Mettaton: “ACTUALLY, WAIT A SECOND. DIDN’T WE SEE THIS PUZZLE ABOUT A HUNDREAD ROOMS AGO?” (Yeah, but you weren’t for that. Unless if you were spying on us alongside Alphys, how would you know whether or not we’ve been through this puzzle with Papyrus?) +1

165. (Even if you just stand around and not attempt the puzzle, or at least not hit any green tiles, Mettaton will still fight you.) +1

166. (Mettaton is not in his dress when they fight you in this round.) +1

167. Sans: “Hey. Let me tell you a story.”

Mr. Hippo: “Not every story has to have significance. You know, sometimes…sometimes a story is just a story.” +1

168. Sans: “Now, I hate making promises, and this woman, I don’t even know her name, but someone who sincerely likes bad jokes has an integrity you can’t say “no” to.” (Well, by that logic, we should completely trust the integrity of Shuji Ikutsuki. Yeah, he wanted to erase all life in existence just so he can somehow recreate the world in his own image, but hey, he loves bad jokes.) +1

169. Sans: “You’d be dead where you stand.” (Considering that his conversation with Toriel is after the previous child fell into the underground, does that mean that it was really Sans who’s been killing everyone that came down here, not Asgore? I mean, I don’t doubt that Asgore might have killed at least the first couple of humans, but knowing full well that Sans isn’t joking around right now, I think there’s a possibility that Sans was killing humans while on guard duty the moment they left the ruins, especially considering that Toriel points out that she has seen them die. How would Toriel see Asgore kill them if she left to the ruins before some of them came unless if Asgore just so happen to be nearby when the humans leave the ruins? It doesn’t make sense if Toriel stayed with Asgore before Frisk arrived because she seen them leave the ruins and it doesn’t make sense if the humans died some time after leaving the ruins since Toriel wouldn’t be nearby to witness their deaths. Confusing shit, ain’t it?) +1

170. Sans: “Haven’t I done a great job protecting ya?” (Sans not acting out in the genocide route makes sense since there’s always a chance one of the monsters could kill and stop us, thus taking the fight for himself as a last resort if that weren’t the case. After all, he did say he didn’t want to break Toriel’s promise and only does so if we leave no one alive. Sans simply observing us in that route is to see if we have anything redeeming about us. In the pacifist route; however makes no since considering that we’ve gone quite far to show that we mean no harm to anyone and at the very least he could do is make bone shields to protect us from attacks or something, especially in the battle against Omega Flowey.) +1

171. (This monster is either a discount Hellboy or discount Hellbent from Planet Dolan, take your pick.) +1

172. (You know, considering that no one has fixed this fountain, it’s probably no surprise that the elevator in the lobby isn’t working properly.) +1

173. (Also, I just have to ask now that we’re here, how is Mettaton able to afford his own resort and brand of products if his following is only in the double digits until we fight him? I highly doubt Asgore would spend the kingdom’s budget on the desires of just one monster.) +1

174. (Discount Squidward Tentacles) +1

175. Burgerpants: “I’m sorry, it’s against the rules to talk to customers who haven’t bought anything.” (In that case, how are going to commit a transaction if you can’t talk to me? We have to be able to communicate in some way if you want to sell me your product.) +1

176. Burgerpants: “Thanks! Have a fabu-ful day!” (Fabu-ful) +1

177. Burgerpants: “I’ll get in trouble if I get chummy with the customers.” (You just said that you can’t talk to anyone who hasn’t bought anything, but since I have, you shouldn’t get in trouble at all.) +1

178. Burgerpants: “This place is a labyrinth of bad choices! And every time we try to change something for the better, he vetoes it and says “that’s not how they do it on the surface.” (Just because a system works on the surface doesn’t mean it’ll work anywhere else.) +1

179. Burgerpants: “Oh, right. Humans are always eating hamburgers made of sequins and glue!” (Eh, not too far off of what some restaurants actually serve.) +1

180. Burgerpants: “Why do people find him so attractive? He’s literally just a freaking rectangle!” (Hey, some people are attracted to different things than others. Besides, high self esteem and confidence are important qualities people should have, as long as you don’t go overboard.) +1

181. Burgerpants: “Never interact with attractive people! Unless if you’re “one of them”, they’ll take advantage of you.” (Wrong. There’s always a chance that anyone would take advantage of you, regardless of looks, age, gender, or sexuality.) +1

182. –Listens to Burgerpants’s story about how he got his name- (You mean you didn’t keep them in your inventory?) +1

183. (The two characters that practically share the same brain cliché) +1

184. Bratty: “Come on, Catty. Don’t you have like any standards?” Catty: “Nope!!!” (Well at least she’s honest.) +1

185. Bratty: He acts really weird.” Catty: “And he acts like it’s OUR fault he acts that way.” (I agree. I’d understand that if wanted to help out if you’re broke and can’t afford anything to eat, but stealing food just to get someone to like you is pretty dumb.) +1

186. Bratty: “Where do we get the garbage? Like, the garbage store. Duh.” (You mean a dump?) +1

187. Bratty: “He’s like, my robot husband.” Catty: “Actually, he’s like MY robot husband.” Catty: “I think we’re like both going to marry him.” Catty: “We’re both like already married to him. He just, like, doesn’t know it yet.” (Ah yes, good ol’ self proclaimed relationships. Otherwise known as…stalking!) +1

188. –Listen to Bratty and Catty go on and on about Alphys- (*sighs* Oh if only you knew.) +1

189. Bratty: “Oh my god! He’s like a total goober!”

190. Catty: “Wait! I’ll pay you 1000G if you could get Mettaton to autograph my butt!” (No option to complete this side quest.) +1

191. (Wait, how did they managed to get Mettaton’s house key in the trash? It’s not like Mettaton abandoned it or anything. He has diary entries laying around.) +1

192. (Really? “Madjick”? That pun of a name wasn’t funny in Orphen and it’s not now.) +1

193. Chara: “The air here is filled with the smell of ozone.” (Last I checked, the ozone has no smell.) +1

194. Mettaton: “THIS WAS ALL JUST A BIG SHOW. AN ACT. ALPHYS HAS BEEN PLAYING YOU FOR A FOOL THE WHOLE TIME.” (Surprise reveal is not so surprising. I didn’t sin this earlier for the obvious hints scattered throughout the game considering I doubt Alphys would have enough time to practice everything completely before we got here, especially considering her social anxiety and depression.) +1

195. Mettaton: “AFTER ALL, THE AUDIENCE DESERVE A GOOD SHOW, DON’T THEY? AND WHAT’S A GOOD SHOW, WITHOUT A PLOT TWIST?” (Mettaton goes Shayamalan on us.) +1

196. (If Mettaton has no intention on harming humans and decided to drop the charade, then why is he trying to kill me for real now?) +1

197. Mettaton: “So what if a few people have to die. That’s show business baby!” (Corporate Commander.) +1

198. Chara: “You tell Mettaton that there’s a mirror behind him.” Mettaton: “OH, A MIRROR? THAT’S RIGHT! I HAVE TO LOOK PERFECT FOR OUR GRAND FINALE!” (That actually works.) +1

199. Mettaton: “Oh…yes…” (…fuck it) -1

200. Mettaton: “I’ll make your last moments…absolutely beautiful.” (Discount Marluxia.) KH: +1

201. Chara: “Smells like Mettaton.” (Why do you know what that smells like Chara?) +1

202. Mettaton: “Who needs arms when you have legs like these?” (Someone’s been watching Jackscepticeye’s Happy Wheels videos.) +1

203. Alphys: “He’s just a robot. If you messed it up, I c-could always…build another.” (Unless if we exterminate Mettaton’s soul, then he’ll be gone for good, ghost or not.) +1

204. Alphys: “I lied to you. A human soul isn’t strong enough to cross the barrier on its own.” (Two things. 1, surprise reveal is not surprising. The game literally tells you that if you read the text on the walls while in waterfall.) +1

205. (Two, you’re not the only person that lied to us by saying that since both Papyrus and Undyne also said that Asgore would simply let us through the barrier.) +1

206. (I see that as well as with names, Asgore isn’t good at building design since this place looks exactly like the same place as the house Toriel lives in now.) +1

207. (Okay, I’ll admit. I actually cried a little at this story.) -5

208. (The stronger knife and locket you get in the genocide route is pointless considering that Sans is the only enemy left at this point in the game and he only deals 1 point of damage per hit, no matter how high your defense is and he also dies in one hit no matter what weapon you have. They would have been better used in this route considering that there are two boss fights left (bosses in which we have no choice BUT to actually fight) and even more enemies if we chose to go back and get the true pacifist ending.) +1

209. Sans: “You will be judged for your every action.” (No I’m not. You’re just judging me based on how many people I killed. And even then, you won’t do anything about it unless if it’s the genocide route. Even if I killed Papyrus and no one else, the most you give me is just a vicious glare and that’s it.) +1

210. Sans: “You’re about to face the greatest challenge of your entire journey.” (Liar!) +1

211. Sans: “Your actions here will determine the fate of the entire world. If you refuse to fight, Asgore will take your soul and destroy humanity. But if you kill Asgore and go home, monsters will remain trapped underground. What will you do?” Riku: “Neither. I’m taking the middle road.” Diz: “You mean the twilit road to nightfall?” Riku: “No…

KH: +1

212. (Inability to inspect the other coffins) +1

213. (While this place does look beautiful, how does it get this kind of light since we’re underground and away from the sun?) +1

214. (Also, since this is the throne room, wouldn’t having a garden here risk getting stepped on by a LOT of people? It’s not like in FF7 where the garden was accidentally formed in the middle of a church because Cloud landed on a box filled with flowers.) +1

215. Asgore: “I’ve almost finished watering these flowers.” (Says this, yet when he turns around, we don’t see him carrying anything he could’ve watered the plants with.) +1

216. Asgore: “I so badly want to say, “would you like a cup of tea?”, but…you know how it is.” (Inability to get some tea anyway. Haven’t any of you guys ever heard of a “last meal”? This could be the case for either Frisk or Asgore since in this route someone’s going to die.) +1

217. Asgore: “Perfect weather for a game of catch.” (There’s no weather underground.) +1

218. Asgore: “How tense. Just think of it like…a visit to the dentist.” (Considering it’s no surprise that Flowey pops up later, I do have to admire the build up for this fight. True final boss or not, you can feel the intense atmosphere emanating as you get closer to the battle ground, giving you time to become mentally prepared for the fight. There’s not a lot of games that are able to achieve this feat anymore, at least from what I’ve played.) -20

219. (Seriously? A save point only a few steps away from the previous one? POINTLESS!!!) +1

220. (The barrier looks like something out of The Matrix.) +1

221. (Wait, you mean Asgore just kept the human souls in jars instead of just absorbing each one he obtained? By doing this, he risks them being stolen by someone else like Flowey who would use them for more disastrous purposes.) +1

222. Chara: “It seems your journey is finally over.” (What the hell, we didn’t even fight yet.) +1

223. (SON OF A BITCH JUST BROKE THE MERCY BUTTON!!!) +1

224. Asgore’s stats: 80 attack and 80 defense (In a game like this, this is a clear sign that this isn’t the final fight. He’s stats aren’t maxed out.) +1

225. Asgore: “After everything I’ve done to hurt you, you would rather stay down here and suffer, then live happily on the surface?” (All we pretty much did was fight. You didn’t do anything like torture me to the brink of depression.) +1

226. Asgore: “I promise you, my wife and I will take care of you as best we can.” (Yeah, something tells me that Toriel ain’t going to forgive you anytime soon dood.) +1

227. (No matter what you do, no matter how many tries you make through this path, Flowey will always destroy Asgore’s soul and stop you from absorbing it. This is especially sinful considering in the True Pacifist route, he absorbs everyone’s soul, including Asgore’s. Why didn’t he just absorb Asgore’s soul along with the human souls to obtain more power, even if it’s just a little bit more?) +5

228. (Wait, LV 9999? When the hell did Flowey become a Disgaea character?) +1

229. Flowey: “Without you, I never could have gotten past him!” (You know you could have just taken the souls while Asgore was distracted by the fight, right?) +1

230. Flowey: “Boy, I’ve been empty for so long. It feels great to have a soul inside me again!” (Flowey is a nobody, confirmed!) KH: +1

231. Flowey: “And then, with my newfound powers, monsters, humans, everyone, I’ll show them the REAL meaning of this world!” Vulcanus: “Humans! Demons! Angels! I’ll be the god of them all!” +1

232. (Discount final boss from Kingdom Hearts 1. Seriously, it starts out with you fighting Asriel, then you have to go to multiple sections of his body, and then fight him finish him off for good.) KH: +1

233. (Also, fuck this fight.) +1

234. Flowey: -loads file after dealing final blow- -insert troll song- +1

235. Flowey: “That’s right! Your worthless friends can’t save you now.” (Good point. Where IS Sans in all of this? Considering his unusual abilities, you’d think he’d find out what’s going on and help out, especially considering this is the pacifist route.) +1

236. (You know what might make an interesting ending? Give us the ability to fight Flowey over and over and kill him over, thus having Flowey become more and more horrified after his own death each time we kill him. –laughs- What a gift to relish…a victim that can’t perish…)

237. Flowey: “Killing me is the only way to end this…” (Liar!) +1

238. Flowey: “…Why? Why are you being…so nice you me?” (No option to say “because it annoys you.”) +1

239. (Okay so…where are we right now? We couldn’t have passed the barrier since we never took Asgore’s soul and we can’t be in the ruins, otherwise Toriel would’ve certainly caught on to our whereabouts.) +1

240. Sans: “All the humans that fall down here will not be treated as enemies, but as friends.” (Even if said human is an actual homicidal maniac? I mean, I know not everyone’s evil, but there are definitely some cruel living beings in the world.) +1

241. Undyne: “Hey, who’s in charge here?!” Papyrus: “Me.” (Sure doesn’t sound like it.) +1

242. Undyne: “Anyways, now I’m working as Alphys’s lab assistant!” (No wonder the place tends to blow up now.) +1

243. Papyrus: “But if she knew who you’re talking to,” Sans: “We wouldn’t get the phone back for hours.” Papyrus: “We have the mercy to spare you from her!” Undyne: “But call back anytime okay?! She’d love to talk!” (Says this even though if you call her at any point outside the ruins she’ll never pick up. I’d understand that if you’re getting close to the end and not wanting to risk talking to Asgore, but you’d think she’d be more willing to check up on Frisk to see if they’re okay and make sure that Sans is keeping his promise.) +1

244. Flowey: “If you did everything the right way, why did things still end up like this? Why? Is life really that unfair?” (Why yes it is!) +1

245. (Inability to go through the Alphys subplot until AFTER the fight with Flowey. You have NO CHOICE but to beat the game once and load again to get the true pacifist ending. The least they could have done is have it unlocked after we’ve been judged by Sans.) +1

246. Undyne: “It’s kind of personal, but since we’re friends, I’ll tell you. Hotland sucks! I don’t want to go over there!” (Not really a secret if you’re yelling it.) +1

247. Undyne: “Oh, and if you read it, I’ll kill you!” (Says this, even though there’s no option to read it behind her back.) +1

248. Alphys: “OMG, did you write this letter?!” (You mean Undyne never signed it to indicate that it’s from her? How does she expect to get a response if Alphys doesn’t know who sent it?) +1

249. Alphys: “First, I got some metal armor polish…Um…maybe you can’t use that.” (Even if I’m wearing Temmie armor?) +1

250. Alphys: “Do you…like…anime…” (You know for someone who’s experienced in dating sims (I mean, how else would she know about affection levels), she seems pretty unprepared even for a date with Undyne. This one I am going to sin regardless of her condition since they knew each other for a long time and she had plenty of time to prepare.) +1

251. Alphys: “Let’s go to the garbage dump!” (Pretty sure there are better and more private areas than the dump to go on our first date Alphys.) +1

252. (Convenient trash can is convenient.) +1

253. Undyne: “Have you at least seen her?” (No matter what you say, Undyne won’t spot Alphys behind the can and she’ll take off.) +1

254. Alphys: “I thought it would be fun to go on a cute, pretend date with you to make you feel better? It sounds even worse when I put it like that, doesn’t it?” (You think? Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind helping you and Undyne get together, but don’t lead a brother on, okay? That’s where we start having trust issues.) +1

255. Alphys: “And I’m just a nobody.” (No you’re not. You still have a soul. Flowey’s the nobody.) +1

256. Alphys: “What should I do?”

257. Alphys: “Isn’t it better this way, to live a lie where both people are happy?” (Perhaps, but by telling the truth, you’ll no longer have to carry so much weight on your shoulders. Your conscience will be clear and you’ll be able to reach a state of peace and tranquility. That and the fact that there’s a chance the truth will be revealed at some point anyway and people will hate you more for hiding it from them for so long, this causing more trust issues.) +1

258. Alphys: “Hold me Undyne! Hold me!”

259. Undyne: “What did you just say?” (You mean she didn’t hear any of that?!) +1

260. Alphys: “I told you that seaweed is scientifically important.” (That’s not a lie. It has plenty of vitamins and minerals. Probably not as healthy as sardines, but you get the idea.) +1

261. Undyne tosses Alphys in the trash. Sans: “Gettttttt dunk’d on!!!” +1

262. Alphys: “Undyne, you’re…really going to train me?” Undyne: “What? Me? Nah, I’m gonna get Papyrus to do it.” (In a way, this makes sense since Papyrus has very high self-esteem, but don’t you think you’d have a stronger bond if you’d train her yourself Undyne?) +1

263. Undyne: “Anime’s real, right?!” (Uuuuuuuuuuuh…)

(Technically yes???)

264. Papyrus: “I feel strongly and for no apparent reason, you should also go there. To her lab…house.” (Papyrus encourages invasion of privacy.) +1

265. Alphys: “I want to be clear, this isn’t anyone else’s problem but mine.” (Character unwilling to shoulder the burden cliché) +1

266. (Not only do we survive THIS fall, but the elevator is still intact!) +1

267. Alphys Recording: “If only I could make a monster soul last.” (Even if you could, how would that be able to let everyone escape the underground? It’s clearly pointed out that all the monster’s souls together is equal to that of a human soul. By making a longer-lasting monster soul would mean nothing since in the end it’ll still be a monster soul.) +1

268. Chara: “The vending machine dispensed some chisps.” (I haven’t heard a more creative name for a brand of products since “beer”.) +1

269. Alphys Recording: “None of the bodies have turned into dust, so I can’t get the souls. I told the families that I would give them the dust back for the funerals. People are starting to ask me what’s happening. What do I do?” (Simple. Just tell them that they haven’t turned to dust yet and you’re still waiting to obtain the souls.) +1

270. Amalgamates: “Come join the fun.”

271. Alphys Recording: “Nothing is happening. I don’t know what to do. I’ll just keep injecting everything with determination.” (It’s best NOT to continue using something if you receive no results, otherwise you’ll overdose and end up with horrific side effects.) +1

272. Alphys Recording: “Seems like this research was a dead end, but at least we got a happy ending out of it? I sent the souls and the vessel back to Asgore and I called all of the families and told them everyone’s alive.” (Considering that you’re still studying the effects of determination, wouldn’t the wiser option would be to inform everyone that they appear to be alive, but you want to keep a close eye on them just to be on the safe side in case something like this happens?) +1

273. (Why does Alphys has Asgore’s home videos in her lab?) +1

274. Asriel: “I remember, when we tried to make butterscotch pie for dad, right? The recipe called for cups of butter and we accidently put in buttercups instead.” (Uh, give me a moment.) –looks up the symptoms of buttercup poisoning- (Holy shit, how the fuck did Asgore survive that?!) +1

275. (Also, if buttercups was used to make golden flower tea, then why is Asgore drinking it? All parts of the flower are considered toxic. It’s not like a puffer fish.) +1

276. (Furthermore, how did WE survive after drinking it during our date with Undyne? Especially considering that Chara didn’t survive eating buttercups.) +1

277. Asriel: “Six…We need to get six, right?” (This is kind of messed up if you think about it. I mean, it makes sense in Chara’s case, corrupted or not since they always hated humans, but innocent Asriel is willing kill of 6 random humans. He’s only not on board with it because, duh, his best friend’s dying!) +1

278. (This shaking fridge is a fake troll. There’s nothing even inside it that would cause it to rumble.) +1

279. Alphys Recording: “A monster can’t absorb another monster’s soul, just like a human’s soul can’t be absorbed by another human. So, what about something that’s neither monster or human?” (So, a newborn nobody?) KH: +1

280. –Indicator turns into a monster- (Umm…how?) +1

281. Alphys: “Hey! Stop!” (Saving the hero in the nick of time cliché again) +1

282. Alphys Recording: “I’ve chosen a candidate. In the center of his garden, there’s something special. The first golden flower that grew before all the others.” (So Asriel’s dust just HAPPENS to be on the flower that Alphys just HAPPENS to decide to test determination on? How convenient.) +1

283. Chara: “It’s a voice you have never heard before.” (Literally the one thing that doesn’t make any sense in this game. Considering the vines that cover up the elevator after you get off, it’s highly indicated that it’s Flowey. There’s just one problem though. How is Flowey speaking as Asriel since he hasn’t absorbed any souls yet?) +1

284. (On top of that, how come Frisk doesn’t recognize Asriel’s voice after watching Asgore’s home videos?) +1

285.

KH: +1

286. –Toriel uses a fire spell on Asgore- “Surprise muthafucka!” +1 like

287. Toriel: “What a miserable creature, torturing a poor, innocent, youth.” (What the hell, technically, we didn’t even fight yet.) +1

288. Toriel: “At first, I thought I would let you journey alone, but I could not stop worrying about you. I realized, I cannot allow that. It’s not right to simply sacrifice someone for someone to leave here.” (You’re just NOW coming to this conclusion?!) +1

289. Toriel: “If you really wanted to free our kind, you could have gone through the barrier after you got ONE soul, taken six souls from the humans, come back and freed everyone peacefully.” (I have an even better solution! Why not just wait until six humans come underground and then have everyone all attack the barrier at once? That way everyone can be freed and no one has to die at all. Yeah, you’d still have to wait for some actual decent humans that would be willing to do so, but at least there would be no killing involved.) +1

290. Alphys: (There’s two of them?!) (How the fuck do YOU not know about the queen?!) +1

291. Mettaton: “OH MY GOD!!! WILL YOU TWO JUST SMOOCH ALREADY?!” (Literally the mindset of any fanbase with shippers. Including me.) +1 (+1 self sin)

292. Toriel: “W-Wait! Not in front of the human!” (Game prevents make-out session.) +1

293. Alphys: “How did you know how to call everybody?” Papyrus: “Let’s just say, a tiny flower told me.” Alphys: “A tiny flower…?!”

294. (You know, everyone has sinned this part considering the fact that Sans could’ve easily dodged it, especially since he actually fought Flowey before, and you know what, I am no different! How the flying fuck did you NOT see this coming Sans?! You had one job! ONE JOB!!!) +1

295. Flowey: “Not only are those souls are under my power, but your friends are going to be mine too!” (Again, WHY didn’t you do this after the battle against Asgore?!) +1

296. Flowey: “It’s all because you made them love you.” (I didn’t MAKE anyone love me. You can’t force anyone to change their true feelings about you. Even if they claim they love you, there’s always a chance that deep down, they want you dead and out of their lives.) +1

297. Flowey: “This is all just a game. If you leave the underground satisfied, you’ll “win” the game. If you “win”, you won’t want to play with me anymore.” (Yeah, but at the same time, if you keep feeding us cheap bullshit, we’re going to give up and in THAT scenario we’ll never play with you again. At least in the case if we win and become satisfied, there’s a higher chance we’ll come back and replay the game, because we enjoyed ourselves and would actually want to go through it again. Hell, I played Kingdom Hearts 1 and 2 dozens of times and both of those games are long as shit, but I love them so I tend to go back every now and then.) +1

298. Flowey: “But this game between us will never end!” (Wanting to live forever. A common desire for non-insane people.) +1

299. Flowey: “If you DO defeat me, I’ll give you your “happy ending”. I’ll bring your friends back. I’ll destroy the barrier. Everyone will be satisfied.” (Pfft. Spoilers.) +1

300. (Seriously Flowey, when has killing me this way EVER worked out for you?) +1

301. (Oh, I love it when the crew comes together.) +1 like

302. (And for the absolute cherry on top, the final boss of this whole game (for the true pacifist run at least), is a discount Xemnas!

He even looks like Xemnas! Who are you trying to fool?!) KH: +20

303. Asriel: “Up until now, I’ve only used a fraction of my real power.”

304. (You know that Sans is under Asriel’s control, you’d think he’d make him call up some gaster blasters.) +1

305. (How come Alphys and Undyne doesn’t fight as a duo like everyone else?) +1

306. (Why is Alphys in a dress when she was in her lab coat when Asriel captured her?) +1

307. (Wait, these are the only ones we have to save? What about the other souls Asriel has trapped in him?) +1

308. –Asriel blasts me with all his might-

309. Asriel: “As a flower, I was soulless. I lacked the power to love other people. However, with everyone’s souls inside of me, I not only have my own compassion back, but I can feel every other monster’s as well.” (And yet that wasn’t the case when you took 6 souls and fought us the first time, huh?) +1

310. Asriel: “And, they all care about you too Frisk. I wish I can tell how everyone feels about you.” (You just did.) +1

311. Asriel: “There’s no excuse for what I’ve done.” (That’s okay. You could always start over as a prinny and spend 400+ years atoning for your sins.) +1

312. Asriel: “Frisk, I have to go now. Without the power of everyone’s souls, I can’t keep maintaining this form. In a little while, I’ll turn back into a flower. I’ll stop being myself. I’ll stop being able to feel love again.” (You’re a nobody. Just be patient, make friends and you’ll grow a new soul.) +1

313. Asriel: “I don’t want to let go.” (Then why did you let go first?) +1

314. Papyrus: “Cooking? Can I help?” Undyne: “Wait, can I help too?!” Toriel: “Certainly!” (Welp, our stomachs are fucked.) +1

315. Papyrus: “You two are two feet away from each other! Why are you texting?!” (Papyrus would be great for gamingsins.) +1

316. Asgore: “Now that the war is over, we might not need the royal guard anymore.” (Yeah you do. Just because time has passed and you’re no longer declaring war on humanity, doesn’t mean all the humans would be that willing to accept you, especially in places like Indiana.) +1

317. Asgore: “What’s an…anime?” (Oh boy Asgore, that’s one can of worms you don’t want to open when you reach the surface. Just show him some Astro Boy, he’ll be fine.) +1

318. Alphys: “It’s like a cartoon but,” –sees the two options- (Uh, both cartoons and anime have swords and guns. Watch Looney Tunes for proof.) +1

319. Alphys: “Uh, that’s the wrong…” Asgore: “Were those two robots…” Undyne: “kissing?” (You showed the man hentai, didn’t you? Normally, I wouldn’t count this as a sin, but that’s kind of a bad place to start introducing someone to anime. Might give them the wrong idea…to a degree.) +1

320. Asgore: “Would you like a cup of tea?” (Even now you still won’t get any tea time with Asgore. Once again, this could have worked as a last meal situation for everyone before they finally leave to the surface.) +1

321. Dog: “Does this mean I married my sister? Wait, we’re dogs. That stuff’s normal.” (Purebreeding) +1

322. Burgerpants: “Friendship is just a hot person’s way of making you their slave.” (If that’s how you view friendship, then it’s clear that you’ve never had any true friends.) +1

323. Burgerpants: “So, what time do they wanna hang out?” (Well, you gave in pretty quickly.) +1

324. Burgerpants: “Never let a hot person think you care.” (Jennifer and Rozalin would like to have a word with you.) +1

325. Catty: “We’d be saving his LIFE with our friendship! His LIFE Bratty!” Bratty: “Uh, so?” (Wow, Bratty, you ARE a real bitch.) +1

326. Burgerpants: “So, we’re free huh? Mettaton told us. Then he told me “Don’t think you’re getting out of work early.” (You know at this point, I wouldn’t blame you if you quit.) +1

327. Burgerpants: “I feel like I played a hand in everyone getting free somehow.” (Oh yeah, you sold me a bunch of items that are more expensive than in other shops. TOTALLY different from every other merchant in video games.) +1

328. Catty: “Dogs are just firm cats!” (No they’re not!) +1

329. Asriel: “Why would you ever climb up a mountain like that?” (Because I wanted to explore. A child’s mind tends to be filled with imagination and wonder after all.) +1

330. Asriel: “Was it foolishness? Was it fate?” Baby: “Maybe curiosity? Maybe ignorance.” +1

331. Asriel: “Chara really wasn’t the greatest person.” (Well, I’d imagine that a suicidal child with hatred towards their own species would have some trouble having an upbeat personality.) +1

332. Asriel: “Let’s be honest, I did some weird stuff as a flower.” (Yes. Genocide of multiple timelines can only be counted as “weird”.) +1

333. Asriel: “If I killed those humans, we would have had to wage war against all of humanity.” (Uhh, considering that Asgore declared war on humanity after your death, chances are, it would have happened if a different human came down and he obtained all of the souls. So, you not fighting back may be a key feature toward delaying the war, but not the only important detail.) +1

334. Undyne: “The sun is so nice, and the air is so fresh!” (What part of the planet are you where the air isn’t polluted?) +1

335. Asgore: “This is the beginning of a bright new future. An era of peace between humans and monsters.” (How can you tell if humans don’t know that you left the underground?) +1

336. (I’ll admit, I didn’t actually do a genocide run on my own. I never bothered. Normally that being the case, I wouldn’t sin anything from that route, but there are some things I want to get off my chest, and it requires to bring that route up just to do so. I don’t plan on doing this in future posts so, don’t get used to me doing this. That said, let’s start with…Inability to absorb Toriel’s soul after killing her. Flowey doesn’t even show up and deal the final blow this time. This is especially sinful if you’ve beaten the game once, thus will recall the fact that humans can absorb monster souls and will need it to escape the underground.) +1

337. Flowey: “I have a plan to become all powerful. Let’s destroy everything in this wretched world!” (So you plan to become the “god” of the world by killing everyone in the world…)

Baraka: “How do we rule a realm with no one in it?!” +1

338. (I can understand Temmie still being around, but why is Burgerpants still here? You’d think he’d high tail it after discovering Mettaton’s death and realizing he doesn’t have to work with him anymore.) +1

339. (Speaking of Mettaton, I can probably understand how he could die by having his soul be exposed thanks to the suit, but I don’t understand how Mad Dummy could die. We established with Napstablook that we can’t kill ghosts.) +1

340. (How come we can see Chara in the reflection from the water, but not from the mirror?) +1

341. Flowey: “I soon realized I couldn’t feel anything about anyone. My compassion disappeared.” (Well, you are a newborn nobody, so it’ll take quite a bit of time before you grow a new soul. Even more so now since you’ve become corrupted.) +1

342. Flowey: “At least we’re better than those sickos that sit around and watch it happen. Those pathetic people that want to see it, but are too weak to do it themselves. I bet someone like that’s watching right now, aren’t they?” (Bystander effect) +1

343. Flowey: “She must have taken you when she left and decided to give you a proper burial.” (Kinda messed up if you think about it considering that Chara committed suicide by Buttercup poisoning and she buried them under golden flowers.) +1

344. Flowey: “Let’s finished what we started. Let’s free everyone. Then…let’s show them what humanity’s really like!” (And how do you plan on doing that when everyone’s dead? You said that you planned on killing everyone to obtain such a power to begin with and that requires you to kill everyone, so again. HOW DO YOU PLAN TO FREE EVERYONE WHEN YOU KILL EVERYONE?!) +1

345. Flowey: “You won’t give me any worthless pity!” (That line’s going to bite you in the ass later.) +1

346. Flowey: “You’ve got a sick sense of humor!” (Coming from a guy that commited genocide in various timelines just for the hell of it. Pretty sure this still categorizes you as worse than us.) +1

347. –See’s Sans’ battle intro-

KH: +1

348. Sans’ stats: 1 attack 1 defense. The easiest enemy. Can only deal 1 damage. (Notice how this is the only piece of info about Sans Chara has provided for us. At this point, Chara is almost completely corrupted, yet doesn’t bring up anything important like the fact that Sans’ attacks poison you or each of his attacks can hit you more than once. If Chara was so intent on killing everyone, then why do they barely help us at all in this battle? Just a playful thought.)

349. (Inability to spare Sans and take off while he’s sleeping.) +1

350. (How come Sans can bleed after being cut while Papyrus didn’t bleed after we cut his head off?) +1

351. Asgore: “Why not settle this over some tea?” (Oh for fuck’s sake game! Let me have some tea with Asgore already!) +1

352. Flowey: “See? I never betrayed you!” (If you wanted to convince me of that, then why did you destroy Asgore’s soul instead of letting me absorb it?) +1

353.

(This outcome is only available in the Genocide run) +1

354. Chara: “Greetings.” (Discount Roxas. What? You thought I was going to say “Vanitas”? –laughs- Oh boy, I can go on and on about why that’s not the case in my eyes, but here’s a simplified version. Chara is more and more corrupted overtime the more people you kill. Vanitas is literally darkness incarnate.) KH: +1

355. Chara: “Why was I brought back to life?” (To become another nobody?) +1

356. Chara: “HP. ATK. DEF. Gold. EXP. LV. Every time a number increases, that feeling… that’s me.” (Yet another interesting thought. Doesn’t this confirm that Chara’s around with us in the pacifist run as well since we get gold from monsters every time we spare one of them or sell an item to Temmie, who is a monster? Just, thought I’d point that out.)

357. (Now this is a time where I appreciate your choice not actually mattering, because in a way, it still does! After all we spent so much time and effort just to kill every living being in the game, that it would be appropriate that we get this ending where the whole world falls to darkness. I’ll admit. This is clever.) -10

(However, this also brings me to my biggest issue with the game; the lack of a redemption route. If you start the game up and wait 10 minutes, Chara will restore the world in exchange for your soul. You can’t play the game again at all unless if you do so. By doing this, your true pacifist ending will become forever tainted. At the end, Chara will take over Frisk’s body, indicating that they’re still in control and haven’t forgotten about what you have done. Why not have some sort of full fledged hard mode that’ll restore the pacifist ending by beating it? Not saying that Chara would forget the genocide mode after doing it, but they’ll give you back control. Don’t get me wrong, I do love this game, but I think having something like that would make it better than it already is. But instead, we just got to use hacking in order to fix everything. I guess humanity really is above consequences just as long as you have a good scapegoat.) +5

Total Sin Count: 288

KH Count: 45

Sentence: Eternal Darkness

Next Game to be sinned:

#everything wrong with #undertale

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