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who-knew-a-sheep-can-write · 2 months

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Sympathy For Wolves: Werewolf!Blackwatch!Cole Cassidy x Fem!Reader (NSFW)

CHAPTER 1: THE MOON

This Chapter Contains: Oral Sex, Hand Jobs

“A secret society exists, and is living among all of us. They are neither people nor animals, but something in-between.” ~ The Howling

The stench of sweat and blood from cracked noses and bruised fingers radiating off of working bodies can wrinkle anyone’s nose. Even Cole’s. The stench of the training room may have clung to the insides of his nose, but the stench of being in a notorious gang made Cole’s nose its forever home. Even when he’s staring down Reinhardt’s monstrous form before him, he could still smell out the haunting reminders of living on Route 66. Dust caring everything, the scent of roadkill being pecked at by vultures, rusting iron of the old diner and even older gas station no longer in use. Hell, the gang members smelled worse than the locker rooms in Overwatch.

But even as Reinhardt towered him even from across the wrestling mat, he longed to be back in his bedroom he shared with you. The warm candles you both had snuck in from your journeys that definitely aren’t up to Blackwatch standards. He wished to smell the freshly washed flannel blankets, the soft powdery scents helped ease his aches brought on by training regimens.

It was almost laughable how fast Cole went down against the giant German man. As soon as Strike Commander Morrison blew the shrill whistle the big man practically trampled poor Cole, big muscular arms the size of which dwarfs Reinhardt’s head wrapped around Cole and pinned him to the wrestling mat.

Cole wheezed as the giant squished him to the dirty blue mat, getting a face full of a sweaty, hairy chest. He didn’t even have time to react to the man above him, so he laid there and waited for Morrison and Reyes to take mercy on him.

The whistle shrieked once more, and with that, Reinhardt removed himself from Cole’s poor squished body and boasted a loud bark of confident laughter at his victory despite Reinhardt being three times the size of Cassidy.

Upon being released from his sweaty and hairy jail, Cassidy sat up with a gasp and coughed harshly, his ribcage no longer being crushed by the giant, and took in the humid air surrounding him in the training room.

Commander Reyes barked out a laugh of his own, not as loud or as long as Reinhardt’s. Cole shot a short glare towards his commander who just playfully scoffed and scribbled down something on the notepad he plopped down on a spare metal crate.

“Come on Cassidy, can’t you beat Reinhardt?” the Blackwatch Commander laughed.

Cole clicked his tongue and scoffed light, looking away from his commander to his comrade Genji who was watching him fail, boredom lingered in his cybernetic eyes. Genji only shrugged slightly to the cowboy still sitting on the wrestling mat trying to catch his breath.

“Bah,” Reinhardt boomed, “all he needs is fine German bodybuilding!” he boasted.

Cole suddenly yelped as he was pulled to his feet by his collar, two of Reinhardt’s gigantic fingers had curled into his collar of his standard issue Blackwatch training gear to lift him off the ground.

“‘M fine!” he huffed, wiping the sweat off of him, gagging on the inside as most of it came from the giant before him.

“Well then, if you’re fine Cassidy, you can go again against Reinhardt,” Reyes cocked a grin.Cole glared at his boss, ruffling a hand through his hair to not make it look like he was just flattened by a giant. Before he knew what hit him, Morrison blew the shrill whistle once more and the giant German knight came barreling at poor Cole, pinning him to the stale blue wrestling mat once again.

With a glorious flop, the bed bounced under Cole’s sudden weight with a few squeaks, a low groan radiating from the back of Cole’s throat. He just wanted to melt into the sheets and never return. The soft flannel drank up his sweat like vampires, the mattress softer than furs under his bulky weight, the light scents of cleanliness easing some of the pain his nose had just gone through.

A soft chuckle stirred his eyes open just a bit, honey brown eyes peering up from their hiding spots in the sheets to see what made the sound. His eyes roamed the room just a bit only to land on the door to the bathroom occupied by the figure of the love of his life.

“Bad day, cowboy?” you purred, leaning against the metal door frame.

The way the sun filtered in through the small bathroom window behind you, illuminating your lovely figure with a golden glow. It made his stomach twist in heated knots; and, if he was being honest, made him feel tingles in all the right places.

“You know it, pumpkin,” he sighed.

His large hands fisted the sheets, knuckles curling against soft red and black flannel.

You slowly walked up to the side of the bed and sat on the edge, looking down to see Cole’s half exposed face. Your eyebrows pinched upwards in amusement.

“I heard Reinhardt flattened you quite a lot earlier from Genji. Four times, was it?” Cole groaned against the sheets much to your amusement. “Is there something I can do to help you, handsome?” you purred lightly.

Cole froze for a moment when you gently placed a hand on one of his toned biceps, a light shiver running down his still heated spine before he realized what you meant. He pushed himself up by his elbows and laid on his side so he can actually get a good look at you.

You had just gotten out of the shower, your hair still slightly sparkling with water droplets. A silk bathrobe had been tied tightly around you, leaving little to the imagination. He could eye the curve of your breasts, the tie showing the dips of your waist. Just the sight of you made him stir even more.

“You can take care of me, darlin’.” There was a slight growl in his voice. He rolled to lay on his back, groaning as he felt his back ache from the day’s labors. “Take care of me nice an’ good, yeah pumpkin?”

You smiled softly, guiding your hand up his bicep to his broad chest where your fingers traced over the perky muscle of his pectorals beneath the gray t-shirt. He saw your eyes glint with lust as you kept eye contact with his chest, at how the t-shirt is just a big too snug around his chest and framed everything right, hugged all of the right curves and straight edges of muscle.

You playfully glanced back at his face. The look in your eyes sent a tingle from his neck all the way down his spine.

He groaned gently as he felt his cock twitch in his boxers, tenting in his uniform sweatpants.

“We both know you’re being sent out on a little scouting mission in a few hours,” you purred.

“Yeah,” Cole pressed, “hours, darlin’. Hours. We got time.”

“So we do.”

Cole groaned in the cavity of his mouth, lips pressed in a straight line. While your one hand occupied him by tracing unknown shapes into his muscular chest, little did he realize your other hand had traced his body along the sheets slowly until you had gotten down to his groin. You had firmly cupped your hand around his tenting erection and squeezed gently at the tight material. Cole let out a louder groan, lips parting as his head leaned back against the blankets bundled up beneath his head.

He felt you feeling his erecting cock right beneath his pants and boxers, fingertips feeling at all the right places almost as if you knew what to do down to the very last stroke.

“Darlin’, please,” he begged, “I need ya.”

He was starting to sound breathless. One of his hands came to grasp at your waist as the other fisted the sheets until his knuckles were white.

“What do you want me to do to you, Cole,” you cooed innocently. You dug your fingertips into the waistband of the sweatpants, your hand no longer cupping at his erection. “Do you want me to suck you off? Do you want me to stroke you until you cum?”

Cole whined at your words. His eyes squeezed shut, grit his teeth.

“Yes,” he moaned.

You slowly peel down the sweatpants, Cole even lifted his ass up in the air for just a brief moment to allow you to pull down his sweatpants until they bunched at his knees as the hem of Cole’s shirt had curled up just a bit, revealing the line of dark chocolate hair traveling up from his boxers. You couldn’t help yourself as you chuckled lightly, it was music to Cole’s ears.

“Lifting your ass in the air just to get your pants off, Cole? Someone’s horny.”

“Darlin’ please,” he crooned.

He looked at you with his puppy brown eyes, pleading. He knew you couldn’t say no to his eyes.

Your fingertips gently grazed his happy trail, fingernails lightly scratching right above the hem of his boxers. You could see his erection pressing against the plaid design of his boxers. You lowered a hand back down to his erection and palmed him through the fabric until you had finally peeled down his boxers just enough for his cock to spring free, already erect.

Cole suddenly gasped, head curling back into the bunched up sheets. You had placed your lips over the head of his cock only to pop it out. You had licked at the head of his cock for God knows how long, little kitten licks swirling around his head until you had slowly started taking more and more of his cock with every thrust of your head. Cole cursed under his shaking breath, fingers twitching around the blankets as he fisted them. God, he wanted to bury a hand in your hair just to keep your pretty head right where it was, to have his dick buried in the warm and wet cavity of your mouth. God, how you circled his dick with your tongue had him seeing stars.

He craned his neck up just a bit to see you hunched over his groin, lips wrapped around his thick cock, your eyes gazing up and into his eyes. It sent a shiver down his spine. He groaned and hissed between his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut so hard he saw swirls of purple and green in the black void.

You had cupped his balls, gently squeezing them every time you had slowly craned your head down the length of his cock, softly massaging them in small circles. With how warm your hands were from the shower and how hot and wet the cave of your mouth is, he cursed under his breath when he felt the coils in his gut start to turn tighter and tighter until they were starting to feel white hot. His cock twitched in your mouth and he knew you had felt it. He gazed down again at you to see you take him in your mouth again, lips slowly lowering on his shaft until your nose gently brushed up against his tight abdomen.

Cole was openly moaning by this point, propping himself up a bit by his elbows to watch you better.

Your fingers curled around his balls were working a little faster, massaging them firmly, only making Cole groan and ache with need and want to cum all over your pretty face and have his seed paint your mouth white.

Cole shouted as he came, trying to silence himself by biting his tongue. Hot seed spurted into your mouth as he climaxed, your lips still wrapped around the head of his cock until you finally pulled away. As Cole leaned back against his arms, he hissed when your lips finally parted from him, a trail of saliva breaking quickly. He saw his milky seed drip from your lower lip, milky white over the nude of your lips before your tongue rolled over for the little beads left.

Cole’s cheeks were ablaze, his chest aching slightly from how fast he was breathing, his head swimming in pure lust and love for you. All he wanted to do was to flip you over onto the mattress and fuck you until you could only cry out his name. He wanted to be tangled in the sheets with you all day, the mission he was being deployed on was only a little thought at the back of his mind. The sheets drank up the sweat on his skin, sticking to his sweaty body like glue

He shivered when he felt your fingers drift back down to his cock still tingling with a little life. Fingertips danced lightly on his slicked shaft, still glistening with your saliva and whatever of his milky cum you didn’t swallow. Your fingers curled into a ring around his cock, slowly gliding up and down his slick dick, occasionally squeezing the head and base of his cock to spring more life back into it. Cole groaned as he felt his cock twitch again, prickling with new hopes of climaxing all over your pretty face that you had just washed.

Your other hand had gone to his abdomen, pushing up the bottom hem of his shirt to reveal his stomach and the light defines of his abs. He wasn’t all jacked up like Reinhardt and he wasn’t too soft, he was just right in your eyes.

As you stroked his cock, you had also traced the light definition of his abs, fingers rising softly and dipping down on tanned flesh, admiring his body. You traced the little scars he had gotten from his life of crime to being a hero, mostly bullets grazing him or little burn scars from cigarettes.

Cole felt his stomach flutter at how soft you were being right now compared to just a few minutes ago where he swore you were trying to suck the soul right out of his cock. He laid there and looked up at you sitting over him, admiring how you looked into his eyes all sweet-like now.

He felt little twinges and twitches stirring his cock, his eyes fluttering at the knowledge that he was going to become all unraveled once again and it hadn’t been too long after he just came in your mouth and down your throat.

Just how gentle you were being was driving him crazy, he fisted the poor sweaty sheets as he panted loudly, your name spilling from his mouth, pleading with you to let him cum again.

You kept up a steady pace, softly jerking him off spurred on by the little pearls of milky white cum that beaded out from the tip of his dick. He needed to cum, he needed you to make him cum.

This time he came with a soft moan, head leaned back against the sheets as he felt your hand let go. He felt the sticky drips of cum fall on his stomach and knew it had gotten on your hands.

You had leaned down, nosing his broad chest down to his abdomen now coated lightly in his cum. Cole shivered when he felt your tongue lick up a strip from his gut, your warm tongue on his cool and sticky gut felt so nice, it had him seeing stars. You had dug your fingertips into his sides to support yourself, Cole felt like he was going to cum just from touch alone.

“We should get you cleaned up,” you sat up on his lap. “After all, you are being deployed in a bit.”

“We got time, darlin’,” Cole grunted, fingertips digging deeper into your bare hips. “You offerin’ to help me?”

“Always.”

Cole hoisted you up without another word, a shrill laugh erupting from you as he clapped a hand over your ass, carrying you right back into the bathroom.

Cole watched you from his place on the transport right in front of the wide open doors. You were standing next to Lena waving the small Blackwatch team goodbye, the sun maybe around midday should Cole consult his watch. The transport was huge, it was meant to get them from the base in Switzerland to a small Overwatch base somewhere in the eastern United States to get them the rest of the way to the west. He honestly didn’t remember what the mission was for exactly, and he didn’t care to get his ass reamed by Reyes for not paying attention or for the terror that was asking Genji or Moira. Cole gave a single glance over to Genji once more, thinking it over once more on asking him, only to decide against it at the last minute once more seeing the ninja settle into his own little corner of the transport, already attempting to find the energy to try and meditate, blocking out the idiocy of the people surrounding him.

Cole looked back towards you and saw you wave again, a slight smile still on your face. Lena was still next to you, this time talking to someone nearby with a bright smile.

Only you two knew of the markings painted under Cole’s standard unit transport gear; Consisting of Blackwatch-Issued military jacket and cargo pants, boots and his gray t-shirt from earlier. All of the hickies and scratches and bruises now forming purples and yellows on his tanned skin hidden behind the same gray shirt from earlier.

“Cassidy!” Reyes barked, sending the poor cowboy to jump out of fear. “Get your ass in here!”

Cole gave you one last wink goodbye before the transport doors closed in front of him and the ramp had retracted in.

Cole turned back around to face the commander who was already wrangling a pile of folders in his arms, trying to sort through them as he stumbled towards the small table off to the side of the transport’s main room. Cole felt the rumble of the transport coming to life under his feet, and not too long after, the roar of engines, and soon flight.

“Get over here the three of you,” Commander Reyes muttered, turning back fully towards the table to see Moira already there. Even the commander jumped slightly from her being there. “The two of you,” he corrected himself.

Cole shivered along with his boss at the “good doctor” and her behavior. She always moved like a specter, a ghost of some sorts, freely and loosely yet rigid and strict under hard discipline of her upbringing. Cole didn’t know too much of her life, all he knew was that she was the type of kid to probably destroy an ant hill with a magnifying glass or something. He knew she liked to watch people squirm and tick, and this mission was no different. He had also heard rumors from Overwatch members that she used to work at a university somewhere in the Oasis, a Utopian amongst other universities, she was apparently fired and kicked off the campus for inhumane experimentation with the use of the university’s equipment… But he could never find out anything else.

He heard Genji’s all too quiet footsteps, the ninja still needing to get used to the fake attachments from his knees and below, the hard alloy making up his feet always lightly tipping and tapping with every light footstep. He felt the presence of the ninja next to him before Cole saw him out of the corner of his eye. The ninja always looked so stern and serious, bushy black eyebrows always arched and eyes narrowing at the slightest of things that could annoy him.

“Now that you all are here, it’s time to go over all of the details just in case some of you,” all three threw sharp gazes at Cole, “may have forgotten some of the slight details.”

Cassidy paid them no mind as always and eyed the table as Reyes slapped down one folder and peeled it open. Inside were some papers, but it was mostly loose pictures. Some were paperclipped to little notecards. Reyes pointed to one photo, it seemed to be a drone captured image of a little metal building surrounded by wet foliage.

“Sources tell us there’s a small Talon base deep in the woods near Washington’s coastline. Overwatch drones in the area picked up these images of their supposed base, and it seems like they’re still there. Last known activity was when a single hover-truck went into the building,” Reyes pushed forward another photo of said truck, “and never came out.” Reyes moved the third picture to the center. “Conveniently, there is to be a transport escorted by United States officials from an unknown government-owned building. It’s possible it might be coming from a Washington arms factory nearby since they claim to have invented a new kind of energy weapon.” The photo was of the factory, doors sealed tight and lights all around as if it were a prison in the sleepy, rainy depths of Washington.

“Our job is to only scout and try to find out information. No hostile contact as it can render this mission a failure. Should something happen, a small team of Overwatch agents stationed nearby will help us. We cannot risk anything going wrong.” Reyes shuffled folders out from under his arm. “You each will have a folder with your orders. Follow them. Spend the entire transport there to learn what you all have to do.”

Genji had gotten the thickest of the folders as he normally does. Being a trained ninja nearly all of his life would get you positions like that. Moira had gotten the next, average, yet surprisingly not as full as the folders normally are; No doubt her role as the medic for the team was to watch out for the Overwatch team should something happen. Cole was handed out last, his folder thin. Thinner than usual and it even had him cocking an eyebrow as he opened his folder.

There were a few pages, but what stuck out most wasa sticky note right in the center of the first page, Reyes’ handwriting bold and loud in black permanent marker. ‘Don’t Rush In’ was ordered on the little note. The papers were mostly explaining to stay by Reyes’ side and watch his back should any Talon agents be around, but to mostly be the muscle should shit hit the fan. His usual orders at that.

“Read up and rest up. We have a long night ahead of us,” Reyes commanded.

The soldier turned on his heel and marched off to his own little makeshift office he conducted out of a pretty large cleaning closet. Moira had stalked off to the medical bay below deck and Genji had moved back to his own corner to read, leaving Cole standing there in the open room, only the sound of the transport cutting through the air at dangerous speeds filling his ears. Cole had simply decided to try and follow orders, sitting down in a nearby chair and plopping the folder open to read, however, his eyes only caught a few things as the rest were just a buzz in the back of his head.

‘Location: Unknown. Expected around 150 miles West of Seattle.’

‘Occupancy: Fully Occupied. Expected Crew Size: Unknown. Drone Estimates - 46 Members.’

‘Reason For Mission: Possible Robbery of Dangerous Weapons.’

‘Overwatch has administered a team of 22 agents from the North West region of the United States to aid in this mission should something go wrong. The team will be stationed 2 miles south of the targeted area.’

‘Take prisoners if needed.’

The last one stuck with Cole for a second, briefly remembering his time sitting handcuffed to a metal table, half naked as his shirt was missing and freezing from how cold the room had been kept. He was sporting a bruised cheek and his wrists burned from where he pulled at the handcuffs to try and free himself as if he were a wild animal. He remembered how Reyes looked at him like he was his own son who told the principal to shove it, how Morrison looked at him as a dangerous dog who needed to be put out in the cold. Cole shivered, he never wanted to go to a time like that.

And when he had first met you. You were just walking down the same hallway as him, all dressed up in your Overwatch uniform wrestling with papers and folders in your arms until you had accidentally dropped them, the pages scattering all over the floor. He had helped you, picking up the pages until your hands had accidentally touched. He remembered that blush on your cheeks, hell, even his cheeks were flaming. He remembered how you stuttered out a little ‘Thank you’ and hurried off to some boring meeting, all nervous like a high-schooler.

Cole has failed to realize he had spaced out until he suddenly realized Genji’s presence before him, the ninja sitting across from him in the opposite seat. His red eyes narrowed at Cole, but not in annoyance or anger.

“Do you feel something off about this?” his words cut cleanly.

Cole cocked a brow.

“What d’ya mean by that?”

“Something does not sit well with me about this mission. I do not know why.”

Cole mulled over Genji’s words for a moment until he saw a figure in the stairway to the lower deck of the transport. Lo and behold, it was Moira’s lanky figure walking towards the two, her folder held carefully open between her hands as she continued to read. Her face was painted in confusion.

As much as Cole avoided and hated speaking to her, he couldn’t help his own curiosity.

“Somethin’ wrong with you?” he questioned her.

Moira didn’t even look up from her folder, just walked up to the table the two men were sitting at and placed down her folder. She pointed a long nail at a bullet point.

“Was this in either one of your folders?”

Cole looked down at what her nail was pointing at.

‘Overwatch agents reported a loose, large dog-like wild animal nearby the suspected Talon outpost. Suspected animal is supposedly responsible for the destruction of one Overwatch drone.’

Cole peeled open his folder once more to look as Genji shook his head.

“Not mine, either,” Cole mumbled.

“Strange,” the doctor noted, picking her folder back up. “And there isn’t any note of us capturing it or if Talon seems to be looking for it in my notes.”

“Reyes probably has to deal with it then.”

“Then why wouldn’t he inform either of you? Why leave a note in my folder only?”

Cole glanced back over to the ninja who eyed him back warily.

Over the next few hours, silence hung over the three like a lead ball. Reyes had yet to come out of his makeshift office, almost as if he knew he would be questioned by his crew. The door remained locked tightly from the inside, neither one of them had a key. They had refueled somewhere in the middle of God fucking nowhere Ohio and were already sweeping through the air westward.

“What animal could it’ve been they saw?” Cole popped the question.

For the past few hours they were mostly talking of Talon and why they would maybe have a deadly animal - most likely genetically engineered or mutated - and why it may have gotten out.

“Washington has quite a few large mammals,” Moira pointed out. “Bears, coyotes, bobcats, wolves,” she counted on her long boney fingers.

“Thought wolves were drawn out and hunted,” Cole lit a cigarette.

“Around 2050, yes, but they’ve been reintroducing them like they did nearly a century ago. What I don’t get is why it also states that it took down a drone from Overwatch. Wolves don’t do that by nature. So unless it’s trained by Talon, I don’t see why one would-”

The door to Reyes’ “office” opened up finally just as the speakers above them read out coordinates of their dropping area, but mostly-

“Welcome to Washington State,” Fio stated robotically.

“You all read your folders, I assume,” Reyes deadpanned at the mess of papers and photos scattered on the table.

“When were you gonna tell us that there were giant wolves or bears runnin’ around the woods? When one would try and eat us?” Cole stood up.

“Relax, Cassidy. It was only supposed sightings, nothing confirmed. Besides, you’re not the scientist aboard this transport.”

“The drone-”

“It was ‘supposedly’ destroyed. It could have been Talon, it could have been a bear getting it. Who knows. There is no video recordings of it, and it didn’t go down in or around the Talon base so it’s fine by me.”

Cole’s nose twitched with anger from Reyes’ dismissal of the whole situation, but there was little that he could do or say to change Reyes’ mind.

The engines roared suddenly, weight pulling at Cole’s knees for only a moment as gears and engines hissed at the sudden stop and gentle fall. There was a loud beeping, the lights above the transport door glowed red for only a moment.

“Blackwatch-” the doors opened and the ramp slowly extended out until it buried itself in the wet ground, “-welcome to Washington.”

Cole looked over his shoulder to the outside. He winced at the sudden biting cold wind, jaw unhinged a bit at the sight of pure wilderness right outside of the transport.

The woods before him were dark, large and looming trees had grown taller, mountains only climbing higher. But what caught his eye was the moon hanging full and bright in the sky, partially covered by dark clouds and fog.

For a moment, Cole wished under his breath that he was back in his room with you, snuggled up in the warm blankets in the afterglow, mindlessly loving each other.

Something cold and heavy sat in the pit of his stomach as he was blinded by the full moon over Washington.

#overwatch #cole cassidy #cole cassidy x reader #cassidy x reader #jesse mccree #mccree x reader #werewolf!cole cassidy #werewolf!cassidy #werewolf!mccree

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idololivine · 7 months

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(anon who just chills in the notes of you and your friends posting bc y'all are so funny and make the nubarnival content i want to see in the world. also gotta bring the oliposts to the oliguy) also seconding gigantic bunny olivine!! big and soft...... flops when he feels safe...... has perhaps been known to pull a binky at a work function...... i also love bunny edmond bc of the gap moe potential, i so desperately want this very serious man to thump when he gets mad. the man on the outside casts a vote for edmond to be the tiny rabbit obsessed with his girlfriend who is 4x his (cup) size

I am...... the oliguy.......!!!!!!!

@requiodile @fisheito we have a vote

big soft fluffy bunny Olivine... big floppy ears... big squishy dewlap... twice the size of your average house cat. more bunny to love. the only people who can reliably pick him up are Quincy and Blade. (Dante pretends he doesn't feel vaguely jealous about not being strong enough to pick up a giant bunny.) his lop ears get all squished up in his work uniform hat... poor guy is so uncomfortable...........

Edmond and Olivine have that herbivore prey animal solidarity going on. and also uncomfortably squished ears solidarity. I imagine that where Olivine is one of those extremely chill huge rabbits, Edmond is one of those little ones that has two settings: asleep, or a perpetual motion machine. he is Doing Things All The Time. and yes, him thumping/stomping his foot when he gets mad would be SO CUTE. and little bunny kicks in his sleep... and also "4x his (cup) size" is killing me

god. what if they also have cottontails. that's just too cute.

#asks #Anonymous #nuca zookeeper au #also google tells me that rabbits have dewlaps bc then they can pluck fur from the dewlap to make a nest for babies #now I'm an omegaverse enjoyer. so when I see a reference to nesting. I immediately think heats #apparently it's less that rabbits fuck a lot and more that they produce a lot of babies every time they fuck?#hey that's probably fun for kuya and his breeding kink. even if nothing comes of it that still sure is words he can say during the deed #anyway. even if real rabbits don't fuck that much that doesn't mean we can't still do a bit about Olivine and Edmond fucking like rabbits #my posts

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mongrelmutt · 2 months

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Continuing the Jules Verne kick with "20,000 Leagues Under the Sea"

Under a cut because this is longer than the others:

- This is my least favorite of his books so far. I am falling asleep while reading it.

- The professor calling Conseil his "boy" when Conseil is 30 years old, and only 10 years younger than him 😬😬😬

- *Hisses at Captain Nemo* Bad Vibes

- I'm pretty sure physics doesn't work like this, but I don't know enough to argue. Nor do I care enough to look it up. I am just so bored. Please get to more interesting things.

- Also, lol of course the Victorian dudes would be like "WHALE BODIES MUST BE STRONG AND IMMOVEABLE LIKE MANLY IRON TO DIVE SO DEEP AND NOT BE KILLED!" Wrong! they squish and adjust their innards to adapt to the pressure:

- Trying to suss out what (if any) real sea life is being described when no name is given, just fantastic descriptions.

- Sleeping underwater in scuba gear seems... unwise.

- More 19th century anthropology 😬😬😬

- Yes, yes I understand that the water temperature is invariably 4⁰ wherever and whatever time of the year at depth. You've said that like 8 times already. This had better turn out to be relevant. [Note: not particularly]

- I do not like Ned Lands.

- Shark slander 😭

((Why did the myth that sharks have to turn over to bite things last so long? I remember it from "James and the Giant Peach" as well. I would have thought enough people would have at least seen sharks biting bait at the surface by the 1800s for this to be known false?))

- Man, these guys are a bloodthirsty lot. Every new animal they see they're like "Can I kill it?? Please let me kill it! Let's kill it! 😈 Man, wouldn't you jump at the chance to kill sharks like you do bears and lions??" :/

- At the same time they're afraid of everything, assume it's dangerous, and, if not killed instantly, will retaliate violently in revenge, including a freaking *dugong.*

- Wow, some people at least knew industrial commercial whaling was unsustainable and would result in the whales' extinction even in the late 1800s! Wild that it took almost 100 years to get it (mostly) banned!

- *head desk* Nemo is such a hypocrite (I imagine that may be The Point)

- Ugggghhh the whole "predators are evil, vicious monsters, and we need to slaughter them all without mercy to protect the poor innocent prey animals" attitude still so prevalent today.

- ...wait, those are *sperm whales*?? I thought they meant killer whales at first! Sperm whales don't even eat baleen whales... All that brutal slaughter for nothing :'(

- ... Bonus for an even more uncomfortable use of "voluptuous" than Bram Stoker! Seal eyes are described as "voluptuous" 😆

- Of all the sea creatures to declare harmless Verne chose *elephant seals* 🤦🤣

- YAY THE KRAKEN!! At least these covers haven't lied to me!! :D

- aaaw no, the giant squid didn't play nearly as big a part as advertised *le sigh*

- Ah, the classic "crap I've written my characters into a deadly corner, time to knock out the POV character and have them wake up safe in bed later."

- Why did the Professor talk about Lands like he was dead at the beginning? I can see a few reasons from the author's perspective (varying from "deliberate red herring to increase the suspense" to "oops I forgot dude was originally going to die and didn't correct it") but not from the character's? It's not even like he was reflecting on the matter from decades later, when Ned might have died after the story, they're all still chilling together in Norway waiting for a steamer home?

Lands: Stop telling people I died.

Professor Aronnax: Sometimes I can still hear his voice.

- Welp, I did enjoy the sea critters and fun steampunk machines, just not the long rambling bits that seemed to overwhelm the story for me

#my adhd was showing hard with this one #personal #lol #reading #I really need a witty tag for this endeavor

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roscgcld · 3 years

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HEADCANON + VARIOUS || what cuddling will include

anime: jujutsu kaisen

characters: itadori yuji, fushiguro megumi, kugisaki nobara, ryomen sukuna, gojo satoru

pronoun: non specific

proof read: N/A

ITADORI YUJI

Yuji sometimes finds it hard to sleep, with Sukuna nagging at him all night long - so he tends to stay up a lot on his phone or something

But when you are together, curled up in each other’s arms? He turns into the heaviest sleeper on the planet - not even an earthquake can wake him up

With that being said though; imagine wrapped up in his arms and his face just curled up against your neck? I just - *cries in absolute cuteness*

He loves being the little spoon - and is never shy to admit it. He’d make grabby arms at your direction and demand for cuddles with a pout

His hand will find its way under your shirt and trace patterns on your skin. It’s like he feels soothe just by feeling your soft skin underneath his fingertips

If you have stretch marks/scars? Bet he’s going to trace them every chance he gets, telling you how cute and beautiful they are with the most loving and softest eyes

On days when you want to be the little spoon, do not hesitate to ask - he will just open his arms with a loving smile and wrap your arms around you tightly

You two will talk about anything and everything

“Babe? Do you think snakes can laugh? Like, what if all snakes have ticklish spots that we just don’t know about?”

“…wait-”

Most times though, you two will just be a ball of arms and legs, laughing and talking for hours on end with the most loving smiles on your faces

RYOMEN SUKUNA

Since you’re dating Yuji, you’re indirectly dating Sukuna as well - the King of Curses, and asshole supreme. Or, so he demands to be called

At first Sukuna just sort of sat there with the boredest expression on his face, with you cuddled against him whilst he wrapped his arms around you awkwardly

Eventually, he started to demand to come out for cuddles, sometimes whilst you and Yuji were already in the midst of cuddling

It pisses Yuji off a lot, but you just find it so cute since Sukuna is now demanding for cuddles

You’d end up tracing his tattoos, arms, chest, back and face. In return he’d give you such a weirded out look, but if you ever try to stop he’d give you the most offended look and force your hands back to continue

He also demands for you to play/pet his hair like he’s a puppy. It’d always make him sleepy and fall asleep against your chest, so you do it just so you can see that softer side of him

When you are seated before him, best believe the man will just nip and kiss along your neck and shoulders to both tease you and to show you affection

He likes placing soft and lingering forehead kisses, mostly when you’re either close to falling asleep or already asleep - cause that way you can’t ever tell if he actually did it or not

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI

Knowing this shy boy, cuddles were not a thing at the beginning of your relationship - it took a lot of initiation from your end and a lot of stiff cuddles and blushes. But eventually he got used to it

Usually you two would cuddle in your dorms, far away from others to save poor Megumi from embarrassment, since he isn’t that fond of PDA out in public

He loves it when you play with his hair, twirling the strands between your fingers. It makes him relax and sleepy. He enjoys playing with yours too, since he loves how soft it feels between his fingers

Your head would rest on his arm, his face resting close to yours on his pillow whilst you two just talk; with you mostly doing the talking whilst he just takes the time to admire your features with such a soft look in his green eyes

He’d randomly lean over to rub your nose against his lightly, grinning softly whenever you’re caught off guard and end up blushing and hiding from him

He loves playing with your fingers - he loves how small your hand is compared to his, how soft your fingers are compared to his; yet they fit together perfectly

Many times you two would just lay next to each other, listening to soft music playing from his speakers with the curtains drawn and comforter thrown over you two without saying a word. It’s pretty chilled and laid back

KUGISAKI NOBARA

Honestly, bet you she claims that she is the bigger spoon when others ask; when in reality she is the little spoon - whining and pouting for your attention like a kitten

Whenever you have to sit down and do your work, she’d most likely curl up in your lap; her arms and legs wrapped around you like a baby koala

Loves it when you’d wrap your arms around her in return and shower her face in kisses

She’s just such a baby - I just need a moment cause I just love her so much ><

On days where you just need cuddles, she’d happily just wrap her arms around you and coax you to rest your head on her chest so you can hear her heartbeat to calm down

She loves playing with your hair too, and if it’s long enough she’ll even braid it. So don’t be surprise if you get up from your cuddle session with crazy hair

When she wants kisses, she will want you to give them to her - so she would sit there with her lips puckered until you give in

Sometimes she’d just lay in your arms and rant for hours on end about either Gojo, Yuji, or Megumi - or all three of them combined.

Regardless of gender, she hands will somehow find their way onto your ass - she hates how it’s perkier then hers and would squeeze it whilst ranting to you about it

Gojo Satoru

This loveable giant is just the biggest pain in the ass - constantly annoying or pissing you off. However, it’s different when you two are curled up together

He’d wrapped his lanky arms around you and plays with your hair, letting you rest his head on his chest whilst yours arms are wrapped around him

You two rarely get time for yourselves, so he’d take these moments seriously and refuse to let anything or anyone disturb the peace

Soft pecks and sweet nothings are mumbled to each other quietly, the only few times he wouldn’t be his loud and rambunctious self

Although he’d still toss in a teasing word or two in there just to press on your buttons

“Look, your hands aren’t even as big as mine.” He’d coo as he pressed his hands against yours, clearly showing the size difference. “How on Earth do you go about your every day?”

“Shut up, you giant man child.”

He would wrap his arms around you tightly and refuse to let you go, pressing soft kisses along your face; whining for your attention whilst you tried to ignore him

Eventually though you’d give in, showering him in attention and love whilst he stares up at you with his beautiful eyes; a soft smile on his face

He loves it when you’d trace his features with your finger, not only does it calm him, it also gives him a slight ego boost.

Other times, you’d take his opportunity to squish his cheeks together, kneading and playing them like mochi whilst he whines at you without making any effort to move away

At the end of the day, it is just both of you being lazy whilst teasing each other non stop - but it’s all filled with love and affection

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pekoeboo · 2 years

Text

Khalan's Journal (Entry #34)

Rating: T also on AO3 [prev]-[start]-[next]

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Day 162 – Evening

Sometimes I do not know what to do with Aya.

I found her at the edge of the lake earlier today kneeling beside a boat. Of course my first instinct was to ask her if she was planning on traveling, but as I drew closer, I noticed a lump of green in the middle of the small boat that she was interacting with.

The lump happened to be two giant turtles! Squished together with no space to move within the tiny confines of the crude, one-man craft! How she managed to capture the poor creatures, I have no idea. But they looked to be in absolute misery crammed against each other in such a manner. It is like a repeat of what happened with the barn all over again.

I get the impression that she was playing with them – much like a young girl would do with dolls. Only fragments of her convoluted love story were revealed to me, and I'm convinced that she was pretending the two turtles were becoming wed; as she was trying to force them to kiss each other.

When I brought up my concerns about their well-being, I was met with quick opposition. Aya claimed that they were happy together and that she had saved them by trapping them in the boat. I beg to differ. They do not look happy in the slightest.

She was offended at the prospect of me releasing them. I don't have the heart to go through with the idea now, as I do not wish to upset her further. In truth, she has been in a bit of a fragile mental state since the incident in the mineshaft, and I can't help but wonder if her more childish actions are a form of coping? It's difficult to tell.

But the fact of the matter is that I worry about crossing boundaries in how I deal with this kind of behavior. She is putting these poor animals in a situation they do not want to be in, but I can't seem to convey that to her without her disagreeing with me entirely.

What should I do? She doesn't see me as any sort of parental figure, so I don't feel like it's within my right to tell her what not to do. Do older siblings do that sort of thing? I'm not sure. I am afraid of overstepping boundaries in our relationship if I were to push the matter further. I do not want to come across as harsh or stern with her.

But it also deeply bothers me to see her treat animals in such a way as a result of her blissful naiveté, so I feel as though something must be done.

Oh, those poor turtles. They do not deserve such hell. There has to be something I can do to help them.

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Just a small disclaimer: Aya struggles with understanding animal behavior, as she lived on an alien space station before meeting the others in Drehmal. So even though she doesn't always seem to treat animals very well, she has no ill intentions and genuinely thinks that she's doing the right thing.

She'll learn eventually, though. It just might take some time. Fortunately, Khalan has a better understanding of how to tend to various animals, so he's typically the one taking care of their farm animals and any other pets on the property (including his cat Aakil, Lucy the llama, and the various fish that they have in the decorative pond outside the house).

#minecraft #mineblr #writing #text post #fanfiction #fanfic #oc #khalan #khalan al shariq #aya armas #cookieg122 #primordial smp #khalan's journal #this particular entry is based on when i logged into the server one time #and there were just. two turtles smashed together in a boat near the front of the house #and i was so confused like?? how did they get there #so it became a joke that the turtles were 'in love' but they just looked so miserable #and i figured that the concept needed to be included here in the journal as well lol

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goldenlaquer · 3 years

Note

I'm really curious how Yan will encounter and interact with Yorozuya, especially Kagura.

Interaction-wise:

Gintoki calls Yan “Big Guy” and routinely acts like he isn’t extremely jealous about Yan’s height (Shinpachi’s always calling Gintoki out on this, as per straight-man-comedy protocol). To Gintoki’s irk, Yan calls him “Little Man” right back and is fairly amused (lucky for Gintoki) rather than offended by his attempts at pushing his buttons. They form a bit of an odd acquaintance; sometimes, Gintoki stumbles into a bar and sees Abuto and Yan already there drinking, and he joins them for a round or two so he can filch some free drinks. And Yan, at the start of dawn, carries a passed-out Gintoki like a sack of rice over his shoulder back to the Yorozuya.

With Kagura, the unlikeliest friendship you’ll ever see. Yan indulges Kagura a lot, letting her braid his hair or hang off on his shoulders for a joyride (think Yachiru hanging off Kenpachi from Bleach). You might say that she’s like a little sister he’s never had. Kagura is also very delighted by Yan’s stoicism, getting a kick out of pulling on his cheeks in a poor imitation of a smile or squishes them into a duck pout. Yan even lets her eat his konpeito, and in return, he’s one of the few people Kagura allows to have a strip of her sukonbu.

Yan thinks Shinpachi is hilarious. And Shinpachi is mortally afraid of angering the giant Yato. He’s apologizing every three seconds, especially when Gintoki’s trying to get a rise out of Yan, because he thinks Yan’s non-reactions to everything is a sign that he’s one second away from snapping and killing them all. After a few coincidental encounters though, Shinpachi comes to the realization that Yan is regularly misunderstood (for the most part) and his worry is unnecessary since Yan is a hella chill dude. Another unlikely friendship here, with Shinpachi kindly explaining Edo customs to Yan.

Sadaharu does not like Yan, tucking tail between his legs and scooting back whenever Yan tries to reach forward for a snout pat. Yan is secretly sad about this, but used to it since most other animals don’t like him either.

Encounter-wise:

This is gonna hafta stay a secret; I’m still working out his integration into the Gintaverse plot-wise ;)

#gintama #gintama oc #yan

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popculturebuffet · 3 years

Text

Legend of the Three Cablleros: Nazca Racing and Mexico A-Go-Go

Saludos Amgios and welcome back to The Ride of the Three Caballeros! And we’re almost at the finish line! After this reviews only 4 episodes, 2 reviews and a top 12 list/celebration of this long and fun as hell journey, this one for free to thank kev for paying for all these reviews and because without him this probably woudlnt’ of happened for some time and I thank him for that. Point is we’re so close I can taste it to being finished here so with nothing else to cover, after the cut we’re diving right into adventure.. literally.

Nazca Racing:

So we open at the outside of Sheldgoose Manor as while we’re not at the scene of the action YET, the show has kept it’s tendency to have intresting intros as it goes on. Point is Xandra is incredulous about the guys claims of a magic barrier.. for some reason. Seriously Sheldrake is a powerful sorecerer, has a lair, even if they don’t know about that part, why WOULDN’T his place be shielded from you guys? Still she has to test it punchiing it , arrowing it and throwing a rock at it.. and the rock does take out a window prove it even if i’ts vandalism but that wasn’t a crime thousands of years ago and no one saw them so we good.

Our heroes brainstorm back at the Cabana what to do, ignoring the girls suggestion that since the cabs can’t get through the barrier they can but are ignored because ... I dunno. I seriously dont’ know, they haven’t treated the kids like this before or since. Also if you were wondering why not humphrey, spark of life. Too risky. But this discourse is interupted as there’s a signal in peru. The trap has been sprung and the girls warn it might be since they KNOW the cabs will show up where they are and have time to plan but are brushed off. We also get the start of a thread with Jose as he gives all his money to some kittens who are actually con artists. Turns out that’s WHY he’s poor: he gets money easily but donates it all to bogus charities. You know like Louie’s kids or PETA. It’s a nice character trait, showing despite being a lady’s man and having a bit of an ego.. he’s still a very good guy if very, VERY gullible. Hopefully it comes up againa s this smacks of a flaw brought up and solved in one episode, and while ti’s adressed her it really dosen’t get resolved, but with 5 episodes left after this I HIGHLY doubt it.

So our heroes are off to the Nasca lines of having gotten there with the help of a shady pilot... instead of you know.. porting there.. but given the Nazca Lines are best seen from air according to wikipedia and best shown off that way, as well as the fact it’s revealed you can enter the realm the creatures represented in the lines inhabit via plunging into it, it does make sense. She could’ve TOLD them all this before going but this is one of her off days. The Nazca Lines are a real life set of geoglypys that look really damn cool, and show up in all sorts of works, the two off the top of my head are Mega Man Starforce 2 where their used as the basis for the villians, and Yu-Gi-Oh! 5ds, where there used for the basis for the earthbound immortals.. also villians, a series of powerful and evil gods, and naturally represented by cards, that bring people back from the dead to serve as their avatars, known as the dark signers.

As you can see they also look really fucking awesome. Sadly I have not had a deck with them as I haven’t really thought about it and you need a field spell to keep them alive, but still good stuff. Really need to watch that arc in full some day.

Point is the plane starts to fall apart because the pilot swindled them, or rather Jose, and they have to jump without a parachute as there’s only one. Xandra of course leaps first forgetting her friends don’t have god strength or durability and will just go squish if her logic doesn’t pan out. Panchito naturally leaps without thinking and Jose decides why not and sky captain and the crappy plane he bought for 5 bucks decides to snatch the parachute so Donald’s forced to leap. It does work though and we do get one of the best parts of the series thus far: our heroes are drawn in chalk which is beautiuflly animated and a really creative idea. Granted the magic chalk thing dosen’t make a LOT of sense given the lines are carved in.. but at the same time we’re talking about three talking birds and a goddess chasing after an overweight one percenter, his talking staff and said talking staff’s son/lover/donkeybatmonkeyrat. Exact accuracy to real life can be waved just a smidge. Point is they find Mono, a monkey and one of the guardians of the lines, who Feldrake apparently trapped, though Xandra is suspcious. NOW, after their already in the trap basically.

But yeah Mono tells them Feldrake is going after the Nazca Gyroscope, a device at the center of the earth that keeps the earth orbiting the sun.

Point is our heroes have to stop him though Xandra is again suspcious as Feldrake wants to conquer the world not destroy it.... forgetting the whole lava lizard scheme... just.. seriously what was his plan there. rule over a pile of ashes.. actually given Feldrake’s competence and intellegence so far. that’s probably exactly it. Why is Sheldgoose the one getting called fool a lot again?

So we get another really stellar Musical Number, draw the line as our heroes progress through the Nazca world. Also I forgot to mention but earlier, in a nice bit of setup, we set up both that jose is a talented artist, which comes in handy here, while donald struggles and doubts himself. Can.. .can relate. Say that a lot but REALLY can relate. They end this wonderful song easing on down the road while our villians watcht hem.. instead of you know going ahead up and erasing them as is their plan.

Meanwhile, the trips sneak into Sheldgooses mansion trying to find some sort of evil scheme or lair or some clue they can use. But instead june, looking for some secret in the money vault, instead is caught by security so a chase insues and our heroines spend the episode barely outrunning the security dogs.. who SHeldgoose apparently raised.

Don’t.. DON’T want to think about THAT any longer than I have to. Point is they find Feldrake’s hidden lair we saw in the second episode where Sheldgoose found the staff. Not bad stuff, just really not something I need to spend an hour recapping.

So our heroes continue along encountering Hanzy, another guardian with giant hands who they free from a finger trap.. and her reasoning is both adorable and chucklesome, as Sheldgoose, having a piece of the chalk, drew a finger trap and never having had one in her size she just had to try it. So the party gains another member as they tread carefully past the spider, the final guardian and one who will eat them without a second thought. With that they reach the gyroscope.. and Mono turns on the cabs revealing Sheldgoose tricked him into thinking they were the bad guys and this is naturally a trap. And that is part of the episodes problem: the tension from “well their walking straight into a trap” is kinda.. nonexistant. OUr heroes ran in blind, and even when suspicious in the liens being on their guard amounts to nothing and we know from last episode this is a trap. It’s one thing to have a plan turn out to be a trap for the heroes or for the villians, as we’ll see later this week, that’s fine.. but either the audience isn't aware or there’s general tension from our heroes not knowing. Here there’s none of that.

So our heroes are trapped in a cage while Sheldgoose and Feldrake head up top to erase them, as if their drawings on hte line, the way they came in are erased so are they. It’s a good plan.. and the tension is dissipated again as hanzy just casually tosses the cage off, mono apologizes and our heroes use the chalk to draw themselves flying machines, with Donald only having a balloon and a basket. Comedic gold. Despite once again any dramatic tension this episode evaporating like ..t ears in the rain? I dunno I don’t have a metaphor that works here. Despite this the race is genuinely thrilling with sheldgoose busting out a shark rocket launcher since neither Feldrake nor Xandra’s magic work in the lines. Nice touch by the way. But he runs out of chalk (”You should’ve learned how to conserve space!”) though our villians reach the exit first by unleashing the spider, who Jose tries to smooth talk into not eating them.. and Donald, like me afriad of spiders, iconically shouting “KILL IT, KILL IT WITH FIRE!”

The heels erase Hansy, which is genuinely sad. Our heroes do escape in time though before he can get them and while Feldrake makes a speech in an awesome moment, Xandra just.. ignores it and fills him full of arrows.. well the g rated equilvent about that, I don’t think any of us want to see Wayne Knight bleed buckets. I”m still not over that scene from Jurassic Park where we saw nothing but I imagined it all right.. I.. imagined it *shudders*

So i’m scared for life but our heroes are free and revive hanzy with the chalk and we get a really sweet payoff to Donald’s trouble drawing as his new finger for her is a bit crooked but she loves it. It shows even if your art isn’t as good as other people’s it’s still worth something. A nice message. Feldrake once again berates Sheldgoose who points out the cabs can escape death again and again... giving Feldrake the idea to go talk to death personally. And yeah these teases... while I get this series was made for streaming.. they keep hurting the story slightly like they did here. Though I will give them credit this one.. ends up ratcheting up the tension next time so props.

Final thoughts on Nazca Racing: This one was decent. The animation was gorgeous and always the jokes were top notch, and the subplot was a nice opportunity for the triplets to take the stage and have an adventure.. but the plot banks a lot on our heroes walking into a very obvious trap and that just sours things for me. Still it’s not a bad episode like “World Tree Caballeros” or “No Man is an Easter Island” for the reasons stated above. And there was no daisy for an episode so while I badly wanted to find out how she’d react to the events last episode, we also got a break from her being bitchzilla, queen of monsters for an episode.. for an episode. “Sigh”

Mexico-A-Go-Go:

Okay back on form. Our heroes return home to find.. a conspiracy board all around the house.

Sadly it’s not that but it turns out the girls haven’t slept since the mansion and while Donald objects to their breaking and entering, they soon reveal what htey found: The Sheldgooses have all been linked to eveyr major disaster over the centuries... ever since Feldrake, who we see as a mortal for the first time, holding his OWN book as a counterpart to the heroes. They also uncovered a connection to Clinton coot and the sheldgooses but don’t have time to elaborate before Donald waves them off to check his messages. Unsurprisingly it’s Daisy who says “In light of recent events” i.e. you know seeing Donald’s friend save her life, dapper abandon her and seeing donald fight an evil sorcerer and wrangle a bear, to give him one more second chance.

Yeah i’ve spent a good chunk of this series complaining about Daisy.. and given she appears in the final two episodes i’m probably not finished. But this is just.. wow. So now she KNOWS, if not all the details that Donald and his friends are entangled in something big and scary, that involves a lives bear and actual fucking magic, so that his ducking out on her last time was NOT him being irresponsible or going to hang with his pals or something stupid, but probably something pretty important, she’s not fully aware of everything but she’s aware ENOUGH to know Donald really is making something of himself or at least is trying and really didn’t mean to mistreat her.. and she STILL is giving him fucking ultimatums!

I just.. i’m so done with this whole fucking subplot. All of it. Not just Daisy, Donald constnatly having a moan about loosing her and whining about going on missions to save the world instead of keeping this ungrateful, bossy, self esteem shattering, shrill, selfish, gold digging, impossibly high stand’s keeping big gulp full of bitch.

Donald.. buddy YOU CAN DO BETTER. Xandra’s right there and even if she’s not interested there’s a WHOLE TOWN of rich, eligible ladies. Go woo one of them! it’s hard getting out there, believe me I know, it’s VERY hard and i’ll probably die alone.. but your a good man, you have good friends. Friends who’ve screwed up yes but good friends to wingman and wingwoman for you. Just... leave Daisy behind. It’s not good for your mental health to keep bending over backwards for someone who wants you to be something you’ll NEVER be. Who wants someone sophisticated and with a steady job.. and the latter part’s never going to happen now your a Caballero, and given that’s more important.. good! If she can’t see what you do or won’t take the time to fucking listen... MOVE. ON. I know moving on’s hard but you have to. For your own health. Staying stuck in place over a person just hurts you and them.

And as for Daisy.. this is easily the worst version of the character. And I went into this FULLY KNOWING this version was bad, FULLY KNOWING she was going to be grating and some of the things she’d pull like Dapper thanks to spoilers. It’s why I held off watching this for so long.. and turns out while it was worth it, the series is quite good, my fears were JUSTIFIED and no amount of reading it could prepare me for how terribly written and horribly damaging this all is. And I do mean damaging: Kids pick things up from media. And while I should’ve caught on sooner, can’t fully blame a cartoon, I did as a kid and teen get my idea of romance from cartoons and tv and thus got the idea that pining after someone in secret was okay and they’ll come around eventually and starring at them and what not is entirely fine and not creepy. Of course it isn’t, of coure you have to say something, and of course you have to let it go if there with someone else. I know that NOW, and there have been much better geek gets the girl plots. .but it still seriously fucked with my autistic brain’s view on friendships with women, something I still struggle with at times. And that’s why I take this shit seriously: Because while thankfully I never bought into THAT , shit where “it’s okay if it’s a WOMAN, abusing a MAN”. Men can be abused to. It’s why we had SO SO MANY unfunny stalker characters in the 2000′s, and so many plots like this where the guy is wrong.. because h’es male and his partner being domineering and expecting him to change everything without doing anything for them or treating them as an equal.. is just not okay. And it speaks to a bigger problem.. out of touch writers who assume because THEIR wives are only with them out of obligation that’s how ALL relatoinships work, when no it’s not get a divorced please god. The Duckverse REALLY doesn’t need this According to Jim, My Wife and Kids, George Lopez, Home Improvement, Cleveland Show, King of Queens, Dinosaurs, Rick and Morty, Glen Martin DDS, etc all bullshit. People break up and Donald deserves better. And I genuinely blame both EP Matt Daner and Tony Anselmo for this. And I have a LOT of respect for both guys, i’ve made that very clear.. but Matt as EP and thus the one in charge fo the overall storyline is clearly the one who thought of this and Tony, who helped write for Donald this series, didn’t either get Tress, whose been doing daisy for two decades and is as knolwedgle for her as he is for donald the same courtsey or chime in given he should know daisy better. Both of these men should know better. Danner wrote for Xiaolin Showdown, that had great female characters for the most part and Tony is a grown ass man whose worked with women and is married as far as I know. Figure it out. This Daisy thing has EASILY been the worst part of this retrospective as a whole, the worst part of this series and probably the worst thing i’ve seen in a duck property.. and again I saw daisy ACTUALLY HIT DONALD.

And this is worse. Because instead of one moment of terrible writing and misplaced slapstick that comes off as abuse, it’s just a constnat barage of emotoinal abuse treated as if i’ts DONALD’S fault. Donald did nothing wrong to her and his only crime is obessing of this hellspawned hardian. Fuck this entire plot with a garden rake lined with acid.

Also just a quick note before we speed through Daisy’s screentime to get to the good part of the episode, there’s, at least no yet NO proper reaction to Donald’s new life and it bothers me it bothers me a lot. She learns he has this whole secret life and has no fucking questions just more of the same old bullshit. “SIGH”

So yeah this b-plot: Donald wants to stay for Daisy

And the others drag him along though this time.. Donald comes off as the asshole because he KNOWS they need him, knows he’s useful and knows this is more important but drags his feet anyway for someone who again, has done NOTHING good for him. And even with the girls saying the’ll help and telling him to keep the mirror handy, he still keeps complaning up until the plans reveaeld.

The plan, which.. May I think, the orange one. I know June is purple, but while May isn’t on board for this, the plan is to have April and June do the totoem pole trench and have donald be the face. So the entire plan is basically this

They have an actually nice date till the ruse is revealed, and while he says “I can explain” which he can.. she PUNCHES the mirrror saying explain this.

So our heroes need to go to Mexico, Panchito’s homeland and somehow, in a series based on and starring primarily south american characters... one of the two times we visit the region and the only time we visit one of the cabs two home countries. Now the latter part i’m fair on since they were likely saving Brazil for the season 2 that never happened and didn’t want to blow their load just yet. The other part.. not so much. I’m not saying set the entire series there, there’s a lot of world, but most of the locations aside from the world tree are pretty common for globetrotting adventure: Easter Island, Stonehenge, Mt. Rushmore, The Pyramids, the Moon, and coming up Camelot and Shangri La. These aren’t BAD settings mind and are used creatively and probably will be in the two I haven’t seen, and the setups involving king arthur and a yeti spa do sound like they wont’ dispoint, but you had a real opportunity to teach kids, and my grown man self, about South America and ya blew it.

But we’re in Mexico where after meeting a spooky cloaked guy who says they might not leave alive

So our heroes enter the temple and the other side and find a bunch of chickens who see Panchito, who insisted on the trip due to his luchadores code of always helping the incident, as a god and their chosen champion for the goddess of light as the preistess explains. So we get a montage of Panchito getting pampred while the other cabs get pushed around, ending at a restraunt. Xandra is naturally suspcious as the locals are being AWFUL vauge about what’s going on here, and this is getting pretty midsomar. Donald is distracted by daisy and Jose is distracted by a beautiful senorita, leaving Xandra to TRY and get panchito to think.. before being distracted herself by a mysterious handsome latino gentleman in black. Though during the dance with thier respective partners, Xandra and Jose both remark that it’s weird.. but are distracted by the sexy long enough for it to be revealed what Panchito’s duty is: as the champion of life.. he has to fight the champion of death. No Prize for guessing who. Though unlike with “Nazca Racing” where the teaser removed all tension since we knew it was a trap, here the teaser last episode helps, as we don’t see Team Feldrake till this moment, and we know something involving death itself.. and finding out panchtio’s representing life just ratchets up tension: we know the bad guys are involved.. but we don’t know how or what they’ll do.

And the how is simple: A one on one wrasslin match!

Or lucha match since we Panchito’s a luchador and we’re in mexico. He’s wearing his usual outfit while Sheldgoose is wearing standard wrestling tights.. so a superstar babyface versus a heel comentator... but actually entertaining this time. As you can tell I love wrestling. While i’m more of a casual fan, I watch OSW and some other wrestling youtubes and don’t really watch the product at the moment, I do love and respect the sport and love a good wrestling episode or series of television as a result, so this hits the spot.

So the match goes on and Panchito has the clear lead as Sheldgoose is playing by college wrestling rules and Panchito is playing by pro wrestling rules. And while you can use standard holds well you gotta mix the two together kurt angle style. Eventually Xandra decides to confront the sexy bird and sexy boy, and finds out, in a twist I didn’t see coming they ARE the god of life and god of death, respectively. While I knew this was a fight to the death, as death explains, a symbolic battle between the two with real stakes to keep ballance, I thought these two were just illusions brought up to keep Xandra and Jose from leaving or digging deeper. Instead they were just doing it on their own and as the god of death shows, they were genuinely intrested. I mean... why not get some while preparing to have your champions do battle. God for you death god, multitasking like that. Same for you goddess of life. Get it girl, you get after it. Jose is a fine man. I’d tap that if I could. Get after it. So Xandra warns Panchito who finds taking life against his code and Jose again shows his awesomeness by pointing out the obvious: the match is timed, so if they run out the clock it’s a draw. Might lead to something but it’s better than nothing. So Panchito TRIES this, but Sheldgoose has leopold “Throw mommy to daddy” (One of my faviorite gags of the episode), and wacks him with feldrake before the whole thing becomes a brawl. And the god of Death does not take DQ’s or outside intefernce well and instead kills them all for breaking the rules.

Not kidding. The main cast is DEAD minus Xandra, as Death still wanted to bone her, but she refuses. So now Xandra is left while al lher friends are dead while the god and goddess head off in his caddy to go knock over mailboxes I guess.

Final Thoughts on Mexico-A-Go-Go: Outside of .. certain parties, this was a REALLY fun one, with a great wrestling theme, a great mystery and the awesomeness that was the god of death, who was smooth, cool and thoroughly interesting and I wish there was a second season and his and xandra’s dynamic was really interesting. One of the series best, helped by the fact the Daisy bit while thoroughly irritating, was religated to a pretty funny subplot, with May being understandably skeptical of the plan, it somehow working and the sheer redicuonsess. It dosen’t make daisy tolerable, but it makes the episode better.

#the legend of the three caballeros #donald duck #jose caricoca #panchito romero miguel junipero francisco quintero gonzalez #panchito pistoles #xandra goddess of adventure #april duck #may duck #june duck #humphrey the bear #the arcuan bird #ari #baron von sheldgoose #lord sheldrake #ride of the three caballeros #the three caballeros #ducktales #donsy

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songfell-ut · 4 years

Text

Rrrrrrgh Chapter 18 rrrrgh

I had to re-insert EVERY GODDAMN LINE BREAK ARGH it also took out all the italics. I’ll get those in a minute ;_;

(Watch out for arachnophobia, angst, aaaaand smut~~)

For the eighth or ninth time, Frisk wished she had just said no. But she hadn’t, and she couldn’t back out now, so she kept walking, arms stiff at her sides.

At least she was almost there: she could hear rustling in the dark up ahead, and faintly musical sounds, like someone twanging a piano wire. Suddenly, her heel stuck on something, her shoe nearly coming off; the next moment, something else tickled her cheek. When she tried to brush it away, it wouldn’t come off her fingers. In the dim light, it looked like…a spiderweb?

There was a high-pitched giggle overhead, and more webbing dropped onto her shoulders. The child was yanked off her feet, pulled straight up until she slammed to a teeth-rattling stop in midair. Heart pounding, head spinning, Frisk tried to tug herself loose, but it was no use: she was caught in the bouncy, gluey strands of…

…a really, really big spiderweb. And where there was a really big spiderweb—

“Ahuhuhu~”

Frisk turned her head as far as she could, and uttered a raspy sound as her gaze met five huge, mirror-shiny black eyes. It was a spider monster in frilly bloomers, ribbons, and pigtails—surprisingly cute, except for its fangs. “My! Whatever do we have here?” The giant spider leaned in closer, and Frisk watched in fascination as her reflection flickered in time with the monster’s blinks. “What brings a bite-sized human like you to my parlor?”

The child couldn’t tear her eyes away from the spider monster’s eerie, fluid movements. It was balancing on the web, brushing crumbs off its sleeve, and dipping a pastry into a cup of tea it’d just poured for itself, all at once! “A-Are you Muffet?” she squeaked.

The spider smirked, nibbling daintily on her pastry. “That’s me, dearie. Did someone send you to find me?” Her face creased into a scowl. “If that skeleton told you it would be funny to disturb us, I swear I’ll—”

Something chittered, and Frisk couldn’t help squirming. Muffet gasped as a tiny shape emerged from the child’s collar. “Alphonse? Oh my goodness me! How did you get here?!”

Frisk shut her eyes tight as the little spider crawled the rest of the way out of her shirt, followed by another, and a few more, and then what seemed like a thousand others. She could feel a tickly procession streaming up her neck and along her arms onto the web, where they swarmed around Muffet, making rapid clicking sounds.

“They gave me a piece of paper asking for help,” the human explained, though the spiders were probably saying the same thing. “They were tired of the Ruins, but Snowdin is too cold, and it’s too expensive to get a heated carriage, so I gave some of them a ride to Hotland.”

All five of Muffet’s eyes sparkled, and she clasped two legs in pure joy. “Oh, what a sweet little morsel you are! You’ve saved us thousands of g, just like that!” Frisk heard more chittering, and found herself being eased free of the webbing and lowered gently until she was back on the sticky floor. “I’m so sorry if I frightened you, dearie—most humans have a nasty habit of squishing spiders, but I didn’t know how very kind you were toward us!”

“You’re welcome,” Frisk said, trying to pick the webbing out of her hair. The grownups had chopped almost all of it off before they left the castle; she’d hate for them to cut the webs out and make it look even worse. “My name is Kris. It’s nice to meet you.”

The spider-lady was ignoring her, listening to what sounded like dozens of little voices at once. She didn’t have eyebrows, but her upper three eyes wiggled in almost the same way. “Really, now?” She regarded Frisk with new interest. “You wouldn’t happen to be ten years old, would you, dearie?”

Where had that come from? None of the other monsters had asked her age. “Um…yes? I don’t know my real birthday, just the year.”

The spiders must have understood her, because the noise increased, and Muffet tittered louder than ever. “How interesting~”

“Why?” the child couldn’t help asking.

“Ohhh, nothing, just a bit of gossip.” Muffet hopped onto a higher strand of webbing, crossing a pair of legs and pouring herself more tea. “Would you like something to eat?” She indicated a table with a pile of iced cakes and a sign reading 9,999 G. “No charge, just for you.”

Was that a spider leg sticking out of the frosting? “I’m full, thank you,” Frisk lied.

“Suit yourself, dearie.” For someone without any lips, the monster could slurp her tea quite loudly. “The spider clans don’t communicate with each other nearly as often as we should, but when someone manages to get here from the Ruins, they tell the most fascinating stories. Like the humans’ last visit here, eleven years ago—did you know that your King came with them? Supposedly, it was a group of minor nobles discussing repairs to the border fence, but no one notices spiders – except you, of course – and they hear all sorts of things behind closed doors~”

The child frowned. “The King was here?” She didn’t think he’d ever been to the Underground; she’d just been glad he hadn’t come on this trip, though she was sorry the Queen was sick. It would’ve been so nerve-wracking to have to behave around him!

“He certainly was.” Muffet licked a drop of tea from the fine hairs on her forelimb. “Yes, the King paid us a secret visit, and poor Chara was never the same afterwards. There was quite a commotion, you know, after he’d been gone a little while. They had to take her all the way to the Ruins so no one would hear her s—”

There was a familiar chuckle behind Frisk. “ahh, muffet. putting the spy in ‘spider,’ huh?” Sans held out his hand, and Frisk gladly took it. “yeah, i dunno what she’s talking about, either. c’mon, kiddo, you shouldn’t be here. time to have a ferry good ride back.”

“On the contrary,” Muffet said haughtily, “this wonderful child is welcome in my parlor any time. I would love to have her over for lunch!” Two sets of arms clapped their hands. “Go on home, dearie. Come and see me again sometime soon.”

“man. you got a knack for making friends, ya know that?” Sans remarked as they stepped around the webs lining the floor. “i didn’t think she liked anyone who wasn’t rich, or fattening.”

Frisk didn’t answer. The corridor had just enough bare, echoing surfaces for her to hear the last of Muffet’s conversation. “Not a word to anyone,” the spider was telling her family, or minions, or whatever they were. “I—what? …Why, yes, he would pay for that information. What a splendid idea! We could even give him a discount! Those glasses are so cute~”

Frisk and Sans looked at each other, shrugged, and moved along to thinking up spider puns to unleash on Pap. It didn’t occur to Frisk until much later that Muffet had said “her”—the smaller ones hadn’t gotten that far under her clothes, had they?

Ah, well. She figured spiders must not know much about human pronouns, and they probably said strange, random things to everyone. It was nothing to worry about.

Many years later, Frisk would remember that and wish she could smack her younger self upside the head. Not only was it racist, it was very incorrect, not to mention ungrateful. Spiders knew damn well what pronouns were, and nothing Muffet had said to her was random. She hadn’t even charged her for it…

The hotel attached to Mettaton’s resort was unbelievably crowded that evening, the air warm and full of amazing smells. Sans had materialized by the fountain in the lobby, figuring it was long enough after dinnertime that there wouldn’t be too many people around. This turned out to be hilariously wrong: the line was still two or three deep at the food counter, the queue winding up and down the room and ending nearly out the doors. There wasn’t enough space for one boss monster to just appear out of nowhere, much less two, but here they were.

“My. Do you think they’ve gotten a room?” Toriel asked dubiously, releasing his arm and nodding to the monsters scrambling out of their way. “Should we check with the front desk?”

Sans glanced around, then relaxed and let his SOUL point him in a direction, like giving a hunting dog a scent to follow. Sure enough, his feet started toward the restaurant on the left side of the resort. “This way,” he grunted.

Luckily, at their size, they didn’t have much trouble getting through the crowd. Nor did they have to say anything to the restaurant’s maître d’: he took one look, bowed so deeply that he almost fell over, and walked ahead of them to harass the seated monsters out of their way.

They soon reached the far end of the room, where Frisk was holding court at a small table with Alphys, Undyne, Mettaton, and a few others. To Sans’ delight, she had perched on the back of a heavy chair, confidently projecting her voice over the other diners. “So I finished the introduction, she came out onstage, and what did she do? She froze right there in front of everyone,” the human said, gesturing with her champagne glass.

This got quite a reaction. “Oh, please,” Mettaton said with a groan.

“Ha!” Undyne thumped the table. “Served her right! What’d you do?”

“I peeked out from behind the curtain, and I looked at her, and I went—” Frisk closed one eye and opened the other as wide as possible, flashing a demented smile, and the monsters cracked up. “She almost started laughing, and it was perfect, because that was where the Queen was bragging about how much everyone loved her!”

“Good evening, everyone,” said Toriel, walking ahead of Sans to join the others. “Forgive me, but, what was this?”

Cries of welcome rang out. “Good evening, Lady Toriel! I was telling them about my friend Mathilda,” explained Frisk.

Standing on the periphery, Sans drank in the sight of his human seated among the monsters, looking adorably tiny by comparison, but completely at home. She was more animated than he’d ever seen her at the castle, her eyes bright and hands in constant motion as she talked. It was everything they’d both hoped for when they came here.

And speaking of drinks, he also had to note all the open bottles of wine and other adult beverages around the table. He remembered ordering several crates of them, but he’d assumed they would be consumed at a slower rate than this; monsters couldn’t handle alcohol as well as most humans. Come to think of it, neither could Frisk.

Mettaton had gotten up to greet Toriel, and was bowing her into his seat; Sans was impressed with his manners until the automaton turned and shooed Alphys out of her chair so he could take it.

Justice came swiftly: Undyne waited for Mettaton to get comfortable, then kicked him under the table hard enough to make a metallic clang. “Never mind him. Here,” she said to Alphys, holding her arm out and patting her lap.

Toriel cleared her throat, and the scientist turned about five shades of reddish-orange. Practical as ever, Undyne got up to grab a chair from another table instead, ignoring its irate former occupant and cramming it between her seat and Frisk’s. “Ta-da!”

When Alphys was happily settled, Toriel gave the automaton and the Royal Guard Captain reproachful glances. “Your friend Mathilda?” she prompted.

Frisk smiled. “Yes, from St. Brigid’s. She wanted me to narrate the part of the spring pageant where she was playing the Queen—have you heard of The Sun Cycle?”

Toriel accepted a glass of red wine from the waiter. “The allegory about the two sisters? Of course. Did Mathilda have a case of stage fright?”

“Right after she spent ten minutes straight telling me not to be shy.” Frisk made another face. “I teased her about that for years.”

Toriel chuckled. “And rightfully so.”

Sans was busy staring at Frisk when she suddenly looked straight at him. “Sans?” He jumped, then scowled self-consciously as she shifted her weight. “I hate to make you stand there—is there anywhere he can sit?” she asked the group.

There was a general murmur and scooting-out to make room, but Sans waved his hand. “Nah, don’t worry about it. ‘s what I get fer bein’ late to the party,” he muttered.

The priestess frowned a little. “Well, if you’re sure…” She indicated a green jug on the table. “You wanted to try some hard cider, didn’t you? Now’s your chance.”

“’m fine,” he said gruffly, and she gave him a short nod before Mettaton reclaimed her attention with a question about human seating etiquette.

Sans wanted to smack himself on the cranium. Typical Frisk: she was mad at him, but still didn’t want him be to left out. Well, neither did he! It physically hurt to keep himself from going over and petting her hair, tucking that one bit behind her ear, asking how she was feeling…

Yeah, this whole staying-apart thing wasn’t fucking working. If he couldn’t have some time alone with her soon, he was going to throw her over his shoulder and teleport them both far, far away, which would probably look a little suspicious. What would it take to—

Alphys coughed. “S-So did the rest of the pageant go all right?”

Frisk sipped her champagne. “Oh, yes. I’ve always loved that story, and I didn’t have to be onstage, so I—” She paused and held the empty glass out, and another waiter swooped in to refill it. “Thank you.” Sip. “It was wonderful. We had a five-piece orchestra playing along, and the Queen’s song, ‘Daylight’s Lament,’ actually brought people to tears.”

Sans wasn’t thinking very straight, or else he would known better than to say, “Is that the mopey thing you’re always singin’?”

Everyone turned toward him, and he shrank back at the priestess’ expression. “Are you a musician, Frisk?” Toriel asked around her refilled wineglass.

“Yes, I was in the choir at school,” the human said, giving Sans a significant look. “The Sun Cycle had just been adapted into a musical, and we all nagged our teachers until they let us perform it.” She grinned ruefully. “It was the best political training I’ve ever had. If you want to delve into the darkest side of human nature, just tell a group of teenage girls that only one of them gets to play the Queen.”

They all laughed, though no one disagreed. “And Mathilda got it?” Sans asked, just to contribute.

“Yes, she did,” Frisk replied. Her feet swung back and forth a few times, drawing his attention again. “She tends to get what she wants.”

Trying to distract himself, Sans remembered something and asked, “Isn’t she the one who’s gonna replace you?” They looked at him in surprise, and he added, “Y’know, if you ever decide ta quit?”

That earned him another glare. “Yes, if I ever do. The only reason I became High Priestess and not her was that my magic was stronger. Otherwise, she’d have been perfect.”

“Now, now. I would think—no, I know that you’re doing an excellent job,” Toriel said warmly, and the priestess ducked her head.

“Wait a sec.” Undyne banged her mug on the table, startling Alphys. “Didn’t you say somebody tried to kill you ‘cause you’re the High Priestess? Aren’t you worried someone’ll come after her, too?”

“Well…not really.” Frisk made a complicated gesture. “It may sound cold, but you’ve never met Mathilda. She doesn’t have time to be assassinated. If the Church didn’t pay for a half-dozen guards everywhere she went, she’d just hire them herself and go about her day.”

“Nice,” said Undyne, but despite Frisk’s light tone, Sans wasn’t so sure about the way she was frowning into her champagne glass. Did she feel guilty for being so cavalier about her friend’s safety?

…No, that wasn’t it. He had a sudden attack of insight: Frisk wasn’t only in danger because she was the High Priestess; she was also in the way of people who profited off monsters. Did Mathilda have different views on the subject – maybe more safe or conventional ones – that would keep her from being targeted?

What about the person who had paid to keep Frisk safe? He still had to tell her about that, too, assuming he ever got the fucking chance!

That was enough of that topic. What else could they talk about? “How’d it go in the lab today, Al?” he asked.

This time, they all looked at him as though he’d thrown dog turds onto the table, and a couple of the other monsters actually got up and left. His stupid, tired, frustrated mind took a second to catch up: everyone knew that Alphys had been testing Frisk’s magic, and as much as they liked and hopefully trusted the human by now, they didn’t want to hear about her barriers.

“Um…” Alphys fidgeted with her mug of spiced cider. “You were r-right. I couldn’t even quantify how much f-force she could potentially withstand. It’s honestly still hard to believe.”

“Yeah, it turns out she’s even better than we thought,” Undyne said defiantly, and raised her mug. “Toast: to Frisk being on our side!”

Frisk raised her glass in reply, downing the rest of the champagne in one gulp, and everyone with a drink quickly followed suit. As the waiter came back for more refills, Sans nodded his thanks to Undyne; she stared at him, then drew her thumb across her throat to indicate that he was dead. He shrugged, agreeing that that was fair.

Alphys fidgeted again. “Actually, Sans, I’d like to t-talk to you about that sometime soon. Alone, m-maybe?”

The skeleton blinked. “Uh…okay.” Now that a few chairs were empty across from Frisk, he walked over to shove them aside and sit down on the floor, putting his eye level only a foot or two below the others. Why would Alphys need to talk to him alone? If she wanted more data, why not include Frisk? He’d have to find out later.

Undyne scowled, half-turning to drape her arm over Alphys’ shoulders; the lizard monster turned a few more colors, then leaned into her. Good for them, thought Sans, with only a twinge of jealousy. “I remember when I was a kid and I used to snoop around in my parents’ room,” Undyne continued. “My mom got fed up and told me there was a human hiding in her closet. Not only did I stop sneaking in there, I’d run past their door to get to my room!”

Sans forced himself to join in the laughter. “Poor Pap,” he remarked. “When he was a kid, I got him that pirate bed, and he wouldn’t stop jumpin’ on it in the middle of the night. I didn’t wanna take it away, so I said there was a human under it ‘n Pap was gonna wake him up.”

“Sans,” Frisk scolded him, but she was smiling now.

“It’s true,” he said gleefully. “The next night, I found him makin’ a decoy to throw into bed so he could go hide in the closet.”

Undyne guffawed, and Toriel shook her head, though she was also smiling. “That poor child! Tell me he isn’t still sleeping in the closet, Sans!”

“He’s not. I made a big deal about talkin’ with the librarian and finding out humans are scared of books about Fluffy Bunny. We read one every night from then on, and whaddya know? The human never got ‘im,” the skeleton said proudly.

They laughed again, and the last of the tension dissipated. “Speakin’ of Papyrus, where is he?” Sans asked, feeling guilty for not noticing sooner. “Hope I didn’t miss ‘im on his way home.”

Mettaton couldn’t drink, so he had spent most of the conversation checking his face paint; he sighed theatrically, putting the mirror away in his chest compartment. “He got drunk already, the poor dear. I sent him upstairs to sleep it off.”

Sans didn’t have to fake a grin. “Makes sense. It only takes half a mudslide to get him started tellin’ everyone how bad my jokes are, and tellin’ the jokes ta prove it, and then gettin’ mad that he knows all my jokes by heart.”

“A ‘mudslide’?” Frisk repeated.

“Yep. ’s one of Grillby’s finest cocktails: magic ‘n mud.”

The human looked puzzled. “By ‘mud,’ you mean…?”

“Wet dirt,” Sans clarified.

“…You…drink…?” Frisk couldn’t bring herself to finish the sentence. “What does that even taste like?”

Pause. “Mud.”

More laughter. Frisk’s nose was wrinkled, but she was still smiling; that was enough for Sans.

He didn’t want to ruin the mood by saying something else stupid, so he nodded to her and turned to survey the now-half-empty room. It must have been pretty late, because the maître d’ wasn’t letting anyone else in. The nearest table had just one person, and—

It was sitting there, out of nowhere, legs dangling over the side of the table. The demon-child locked eyes with Sans, hands resting on the knife in its lap, and it grinned.

Sans stared back at it, paralyzed. Through the fog of shock and terror, there arose a single thought: Are you fucking serious?! I don’t need this right now!

The thing shook its head. It looked meaningfully at their table – at Frisk – and back at him. It raised the kitchen knife, pointing at the side of its own head, and made a circling motion.

Sans managed to twitch with sheer rage as he recognized that childish gesture. The little bastard had come all the way here to tell him Frisk was crazy?

Its grin faded into a faint, superior smile. It lowered the knife and tapped on its sternum three times. Then it shifted around to face the human; to Sans’ bewilderment, it sat cross-legged and leaned forward on its elbows, ruby eyes glued to Frisk, as if waiting for a play to begin.

What was it doing? …Why was it doing? He had the feeling that it genuinely wasn’t interested in him for the moment. What did it think Frisk was going to—

“Sans?” Her voice snapped him out of it; the skeleton found he could move again. “What’s the matter?”

“Uh…” He looked at her, then back at the demon. It was gone now, of course. “Nothin’.” He glanced back and forth a couple of times just to be sure. What the hell was that about? The thing wanted to tell him that Frisk was nuts and Sans should check her SOUL? But…

Sans shook himself, turning to size up the room. Everyone was slightly to moderately tipsy, but relaxed, probably ready to call it a night soon. There was absolutely no sign of danger anywhere; even if there was, Sans couldn’t imagine a threat too big for him, Toriel, Undyne, and Frisk.

To hell with that thing. He wasn’t going to ogle her SOUL for no reason in front of everyone; somebody would notice and give him crap for it, she’d get embarrassed, and he’d have yet another thing to make up to her.

Toriel took a bottle of wine directly from a passing waiter and poured herself another glass. “Where are you staying tonight, my child?”

The human brushed her hair behind her ear. Sans glanced at her, and his spine stiffened: she was looking right at him, her finger tracing the edge of her choker. “My things are still at Sans and Papyrus’ house, so I was planning to stay in Snowdin tonight at the inn.”

The skeleton tried to hide his sudden jubilation. She was telling him she’d have her own room, which meant some damn privacy at last! He’d have a chance to tell her things and apologize for being stupid about the chessboard, and then…choker, and—

“Whaaat? You have an entire new wardrobe upstairs, and you want to go all the way back to that smelly wasteland?” Mettaton complained. Sans gritted his teeth as the automaton reached over to play with Frisk’s hair, sweeping it up with one gloved hand. “You know, darling, if you’d let me put this up for you, it wouldn’t keep getting in your way. Why don’t you stay here another night so we can figure it out?”

“I’ll be fine, thank you,” Frisk said tartly, pushing his arm away.

Mettaton pouted. “But what about—”

“She said no, dipshit,” Sans snarled. “Not everyone has time to play dress-up.”

“Oh?” drawled the automaton. He sized up the giant skeleton and flashed a literally pearly-white smile. “I see. Well, if she absolutely must stop in at your hovel, be sure she has everything she needs. You know, her clothes, a few midnight snacks…plenty of socks?”

Undyne and Alphys nearly spat their drinks across the table. Sans twitched as though he’d been poked in the SOUL—which, in a way, he had. “Ya wanna die, ya friggin’ piece of—”

“Be nice, children,” Toriel mumbled. She covered her mouth for a massive yawn, nearly dropping her wineglass. “Speaking of wardrobes, Frisk, I had enough time after my nap this afternoon to go through Chara’s old clothes. I found several things that should fit you. Why don’t you stay over another night so we can try them on?”

The human’s face was still red. “No, thank you, Lady Toriel,” Frisk said over the faintest murmur of “Socks” and barely-suppressed snickering.

The former Queen sighed, too far gone in memory – and alcohol – to notice. “It would be so cute to see you in those dresses,” she murmured. “We can hem them up if we need to. You’re about the same size she was at…goodness, fourteen or fifteen!”

“Yes, childhood malnutrition will do that.” Frisk accepted yet another refill from yet another waiter. “My mother took no care of me.”

“You poor thing.” Toriel shook her head. “How I wish you could have stayed and grown up here! We would never have neglected you like that.”

Undyne sighed, propping her head on one fist. “Yeah, that would’ve been amazing.”

Mettaton also sighed, lacing his fingers together and resting his head on them. “For once, darling, we agree. She should know at least five times as many dances as I’ve taught her.”

Toriel hiccuped. Sans had always heard that drunk people did that, but never seen it for himself. “And she could’ve sang for us, too. My poor little angel—such a wonderful child!”

Frisk smiled, until Toriel went on, “Yes, I’ll always miss Chara. Did you ever get to meet her, Frisk?”

No answer. Sans’ backbone prickled; he checked the other table, but the demon wasn’t there. He glanced at Frisk, and to his alarm, she was almost literally vibrating with tension.

Alphys was also squinting at the human, as if checking her. Whatever she saw made her eyes go wide, and she signaled frantically at Sans. “So, Frisk,” he said, too loud.

She looked up, startled. “Uh,” he said. Crap. Now he had everyone’s attention, and he had to say more words. This time, though, he made himself think first, settling on a topic so safe and dull that nothing bad could possibly come of it. “I just remembered—when I was passin’ stuff out with the Royal Guard earlier, we found a couple small discrepancies in the list,” he said casually. “I made some notes about it. Can you and Tori take a look real quick?”

“Of course. I’m sure it’s fine, though,” Frisk said, giving him another smile. Then, as he started to reach into his coat for the invoices…

It was the tiniest movement, and he just barely caught it. She took too large a drink and slopped champagne onto the corner of her mouth, which she chose to lick off slowly, eyes on his.

Sans would think of that moment and berate himself for years afterward. For one thing, he didn’t know or care how openly he was staring at her, or who was watching; more importantly, his hand kept moving while the rest of his mind did a belly-flop into a mire of absolute lust, all his resources suddenly diverted to socks and lace chokers and that cute little mouth…desperation to run his hands all over her again and find out if she still had that weird blood thing going, what her exact criteria were for it being the right time to—

Left to manage on its own, his hand knew only that it was supposed to get something for her out of his pocket. It encountered the papery thing he needed, and then another thing it knew was for her, and dutifully pulled both things out. He didn’t have enough concentration to use magic and send the invoices directly to her, so he tossed them onto the table with a solid thmp. “Pass that t’ Frisk, wouldja?” his mouth said.

A couple shreds of conscious thought worked themselves free, wondering why the papers had gone thmp. Paper wasn’t supposed to go thmp. What had he…

Oh. It was the heavy golden envelope, the one with the King’s letter for her.

On the table.

…With her full name on the front.

Right by Undyne, who was reaching to pick it up, just like he’d asked.

Time slowed to a crawl. Icy dread swept over him, and he raised his hand, knowing it was too late—Undyne had handed over the invoices and was already saying, “Heyyy, what’s this, boss?” Before he could stand up or regroup his magic, the Royal Guard Captain flipped the envelope around to read the calligraphy. “Fancy! Is it a love letter for—”

She stopped. Sans’ SOUL shrank to nothing as the fish monster’s brows drew together. “Hey. Your Majesty?” she asked, raising her voice.

Toriel finished her drink, trying to set her glass down and missing the table entirely. “Yes, Captain?”

Undyne gave a puzzled half-smile. “Did you adopt Frisk or something?”

Frisk looked up from the invoices. The goat monster glanced at her, then chuckled. “Why, no, not that I’m aware of.” Toriel was smiling, too, clearly waiting for a punchline.

Sans snatched at the envelope with a burst of red magic and shoved it into his pocket. “Hey, Frisk! Guess what? Time ta go!”

Frisk started, and had to catch herself before she fell off the chair. “What? Why do—”

“Then how come she has your last name?” asked Undyne.

Silence. Toriel and Undyne were awkwardly smiling, each waiting for the other to speak and growing more confused as the seconds ticked by.

Alphys frowned, then peered at Frisk, who was staring at the panicky skeleton. “Sans,” the human said softly. “What is she talking about?”

Sans was still sitting on the floor, and couldn’t get up; he felt sick as Frisk stepped down from her perch and came over to him. “What do you have there?” she asked, even softer.

His hand moved on its own again to pull out the envelope. “’s a letter,” he mumbled. “I was gonna give this to ya later, when we talked about—”

Frisk snatched the envelope and turned it over. He forced his sockets to stay open as her face went pale, then stark white. Slowly, her head lifted until their eyes met. “I didn’t mean ta get it out yet,” he said helplessly. “It was an accident. I’m—”

“Where did you get this?” she asked carefully. “When did you get this?”

“Yesterday. From…from Dr. Serif. He met me in the village to help get all the stuff ready, and the King gave it to ‘im ‘cause he thought you’d be—”

“This is from my father?” Frisk stared at the dark-gold calligraphy, then at him. Sans just stared back, letting his silence speak for itself.

Alphys squinted one more time at Frisk’s chest. Then she bolted from her seat, skittered around the table to Mettaton, and latched onto his arm. “You need to get everyone out of here! Right now!” she hissed.

The automaton quirked a lacquered eyebrow at her. “Are you joking? This is the most—”

“I said now!”

Toriel and Undyne watched Mettaton scramble out of his chair, leap straight into the middle of the room, and strike a pose. “Hello, beauties!” he called to the remaining twenty or so diners, giving Alphys a nervous glance. “This is your lucky night! We’re going to have a scavenger hunt, and the prize is me—one candlelit dinner with yours truly! Follow me to Paradise!”

Alphys breathed a sigh of relief as the monsters trooped out, dragging the waiters and the protesting maître d’ with them, and the doors slammed shut. The royal scientist gestured to Toriel, then Undyne, who had come around to their side of the table. “We should leave, too,” Alphys said urgently.

“What?” The goat monster frowned at her, and at Frisk, whose shoulders had hunched. “Are you all right, my chi—”

“Yes!” They jumped as Frisk whipped around, clutching the envelope to her breast, giving them a dreadful smile. “Yes. Yes, I…I’m fine. I just need to—” She gulped. “Never mind. I have to talk to Sans.” She held her hand out. “Let’s go.” He didn’t move, and she said desperately, “Now? Please?”

A tiny quiver of fear ran through him, and not just because he, personally, was in an absolute world of shit. He could feel the air around Frisk grow heavier, and for the first time in a long time, his instincts were urging him to back away. Her magic was building rapidly, as if she was getting a barrier ready, but she wasn’t doing it on purpose. What did she—

Oh, crap. Not only were they Underground, where magic was naturally stronger than above, she was already at least a little drunk, and tired, and…well, “upset” would not begin to cover the fallout of his slip-up. Was Alphys worried something would happen? But…

Just to be sure, Sans took a long look at Frisk’s SOUL. For a second, he thought something was wrong with his vision, or he was just out of practice; then he realized that, for once, he was not the problem.

Her SOUL was a goddamn mess. It shone as bright and beautifully red as when he’d first seen it, but where it had been rock-solid with determination, it now looked more like a snowglobe that kept getting shaken up before the glitter had a chance to settle. Magic was seeping through her skin and beginning to tint the air around her, and if she was aware of it, she wasn’t even trying to control it.

Fuck. Alphys had been smart enough to keep an eye on Frisk’s SOUL when she started getting agitated about Chara—had the scientist noticed some instability when she was testing the human’s magic? Either way, she’d been scared enough to have Mettaton clear the room.

But it wasn’t as if the monsters should be scared of Frisk, was it? Sure, she seemed pretty volatile right now, but she was still Frisk! She would never hurt anyone! At least, not on purpose…

Sans couldn’t help glancing at the other table. Sure enough, the demon-child was back, grinning and clapping its hands in sheer delight. “Told you so,” it said gaily.

Undyne coughed. “Uh…Frisk? Why’d your dad call you that?”

Frisk gestured one more time, and Sans made himself look at her hand with a grim, apologetic shake of his head. His SOUL wanted to tear loose and go hide at the way her face contorted. “You’ve gotta calm down, kid,” he said quietly. He didn’t know how to explain in front of everyone that her magic was too thick for him to teleport her anywhere without touching her, and doing so right now would singe him down to the bone—probably straight through it. “Please,” he added.

The priestess let her hand drop. She closed her eyes in resignation, pinching the bridge of her nose. “He called me that because I’m illegitimate, and I have to use my mother’s name.”

Pause. Sans shuffled back a little as Frisk’s eyes opened again, taking in the monsters’ blank faces. “Oh, for God’s sake! Do I need to spell it out for you?” She brandished the envelope at them: FRISK DREEMURR. “That was Chara’s last name, and she was my mother!”

The world stopped for a moment. Sans watched Toriel, breathless, painfully aware that her reaction was the one that really mattered. If she took Frisk seriously, then the priestess could probably recover her equilibrium and work through some of her feelings. If she didn’t—

Toriel was frowning in bewilderment. Then…she started to smile, and Sans’ SOUL shrieked in panic: Nonono, don’t do it, don’t—

The former Queen gave a polite little laugh. “I’m…sorry, my child, but…there must be some mistake.”

The air crackled, not loud enough yet for the others to hear. Frisk gripped the letter harder, still holding it at arm’s length. “Why do you say that?” she asked, too calm.

“Well…” Oh, crap. Now Undyne was smiling, too, only stopping when Alphys yanked on her sleeve. “Sorry,” the Captain said, “but c’mon. Chara never even had any kids!”

“Yeah, she did,” said Sans, and the women looked at him in astonishment. Frisk’s arm fell to her side as he continued, “The humans who visited ‘bout twenty-four years ago had their King with ‘em, and he knocked her up. She hid it till the last second, ‘n then she gave birth in the Ruins so no one would see anything.” He glanced at Toriel. “Right?”

It was hard to say who was the most shocked. “I thought Chara had me after she left the Underground! You mean I was born here?” demanded Frisk.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me!” barked Undyne. She looked at Toriel, whose eyes were huge, hands pressed to her mouth. “I-I mean—” The fish monster turned to Alphys. “Don’t humans get really big and weird when they’re pregnant? Wouldn’t we have noticed something?”

“Not n-necessarily,” Alphys said, fiddling with her claws faster than ever. “It depends on the individual, and how the baby d-develops. Besides, it’s not as if we had other humans to compare her with. She could’ve just w-worn thick clothes and stayed out of sight.”

“Huh.” Undyne stared at the floor. “Now that you mention it, she did spend a few months cooped up in the house before she left. But—”

“Where did you hear this, Sans?” None of them had ever heard Toriel sound like that, her gentle voice lowered to an almost bestial snarl. “Who told you?”

Sans grimaced. “You guys cleared everyone out of the Ruins, but you didn’t get all the spiders. They saw what happened, an’ they heard her tell you who the dad was.”

Toriel’s mouth fell open. “Spiders?”

“Yep. Some of ‘em made it over to Hotland while Kris was here, and they told Muffet, an’ she wound up sellin’ the story to Grillby. I don’t think he ever told anyone else. He just likes knowin’ stuff.” The skeleton scratched the back of his skull. “When I asked him ‘bout Chara the other day, he told me everything. I just never got a friggin’ chance to talk to Frisk about it.”

Another long pause. Was it his imagination, or was the air getting hotter? The priestess was only a few feet away, and though he didn’t have the courage to look at her again, that side of his body was tingling very unpleasantly.

Toriel’s face had hardened, her arms folded at the waist. “Be that as it may, it proves absolutely no connection between her and Chara.”

God damn it. “No, they didn’t know for a fact that Frisk was her kid. But her age matched up, and a bunch of the spiders who rode with her were right next to her SOUL for a few hours. They said she had a buttload of magic, and it smelled like the Underground—way more than any human’s should.”

“It would explain how she’s so powerful,” mused Alphys. “With the capability to use magic from her f-father’s side, and being c-conceived and gestated here, she probably started accruing it before she was even born. She’s already proven that she can convert a monster’s power for herself, so…”

“Holy shit,” whispered Undyne. “So Chara really did have a kid?”

“Yes, she did,” the former Queen said tightly. “We just thought she was ill and shutting herself away for a while. She didn’t tell us how Stephin had betrayed our hospitality until she was nearly in labor, and she begged us not to tell any of the other monsters.” Toriel was gripping her own sleeves hard enough to puncture the fabric. “We gave her two months to recover, and then Asgore sent them both to Stephin. The baby wasn’t very strong, but Asgore was afraid that if we kept her here, Stephin would think we were holding his child hostage.”

No one answered, and Toriel swallowed hard. “A few weeks later, Chara returned to us in agony. Stephin had just become engaged to another woman, and he refused to break it off. The baby had become sick after leaving the Underground, and when Chara started preparing for the journey back here, she…the child didn’t make it home.” The former Queen wiped her eyes with the side of her hand. “I am sorry, Frisk, but there is no way you could be—”

“Yes, there is,” Frisk said, sounding oddly detached. “Chara lied to you. I didn’t die—she left me with a wet nurse and paid her to be my foster mother.”

Sans wanted to dive out of the way as Toriel took a step toward the human, Undyne and Alphys also shrinking back. “You mean to tell me,” the goat monster said, deathly quiet, “that my daughter knowingly abandoned her child and deceived her family?”

“Yes. She did.” Frisk was standing firm, but the monsters could see the haze coming off her like a golden mist; Sans traded looks with Undyne, who pulled Alphys closer. “If you really think it’s impossible for me to be Chara’s daughter, why did you ask my exact age?” the human demanded. “Why did you want to know how old I was when I first visited, and why did Asgore ask Sans the very same thing? You knew Chara had had a baby girl ten years before the delegation arrived, and then you found out Kris was a girl. Were you wondering if I was actually—”

“No!” They flinched at Toriel’s sheer vehemence. She gritted her teeth, trying to control her temper. “It was all Asgore’s fault. When Chara returned to us, he had the temerity to accuse her of lying about her child’s death. He told her she was not welcome unless she brought the baby back with her! Of course we didn’t see her again for ten years!” Smoke drifted from between her fingers as she wiped her eyes again. “I still don’t know how he could have done something so cruel, or how he told you about it, but my only regret is that I ever considered the possibility for a single second! I know you are both wrong!”

Frisk’s eyes narrowed, and Sans jumped as a golden spark flew in his direction. He quashed the reflex to teleport to safety and stood up, only for Frisk to look around him, as though he wasn’t there. “I haven’t spoken to Asgore since I was a child. He has nothing to do with this conversation,” she snapped. “Do you know who first told me Chara was my mother?”

Toriel tried to give her a tolerant smile. “No, child. Who first told you?”

“Asriel.” Before the goat monster could react, Frisk pressed on, “He put the pieces together after he saw me make a barrier by accident. He knew that that ability ran in the royal family, and the King had fathered Chara’s child, so he asked her if it could be me. Chara got him to bring me to her, and he told me who I really was.” The envelope trembled in her hands. “He told me I’d come home.”

Toriel’s eyes widened again. She started to speak, but Frisk raised her voice: “Chara said my nurse had told her I’d died, and she apologized to me for how she acted whenever she visited the orphanage or the castle kitchens.” The human’s face had the hard, bitter expression Sans recognized from the time she’d caught him trying to escape. “She was so sweet to all the other children, and then she looked at me like I was some kind of diseased rat! She said it was because I reminded her of her little girl and it made her sad, and she didn’t know it was actually me!”

“There!” Toriel exclaimed. “You see? The nurse wanted to hide the King’s child for her own gain, and—”

“Chara knew who I was all along!” bellowed Frisk, and it was the goat monster’s turn to step back. “She knew damn well that I was alive! Why else would she pay my foster mother a hundred dinar every month for ten years? How did she know to check in on me every so often to see if I still existed? Why’d she leave me to be beaten and starved half to death while she kept the thousands my father gave her to support us both and did whatever she liked?!”

“How dare you say that? My child would never have—”

“She would, and she did! I’m sorry, Toriel, but she lied to everyone, especially you! Chara abandoned me until I was useful for something besides money, and she tore your family apart to punish Asgore for being right about her!”

“ENOUGH!” roared Toriel. She made a violent gesture, flame sizzling through the air. “I will not hear any more of this! Do you understand, High Priestess?! Whatever you may think happened, I know my daughter, and I know what she was and was not capable of! If you’re going to insist on slandering her any further, perhaps it would be better for you to l—”

The echoes died. The fury in Toriel’s gaze was gone, a hand coming back to her mouth.

“Better for me to what, Lady Toriel?” Frisk asked, so gently that Sans cringed. “Should—” Her throat worked. “Should I leave the Underground? Are you going to send me away again?”

Toriel didn’t have the chance to reply. A barrier screamed to life overhead, and constricted until it formed a dome around them only about twenty feet across and fifteen feet high. “All right. I understand,” said Frisk.

Undyne reacted first, pushing Alphys to the floor and stuffing her under the table. “Frisk!” snapped the fish monster. “Calm down, okay? She didn’t mean it!”

“She didn’t mean to say I was lying?” Frisk inquired, her voice suddenly rising to a shriek: “She didn’t mean to tell me to get out?”

“Frisk!” Sans tried to grab her shoulder, only for a flare of gold to warn him away. “C’mon, sweetheart! Ya gotta stop it! We can talk about this!”

“We just did, Sans!” He had seen her in pain before, but it was nothing compared to the wild-eyed stare she turned on him now. “We talked about it because you couldn’t wait to show everyone who I was! Thank you so much for helping me have this difficult conversation! We’ve finally answered the question of whether someone else I love is going to call me a liar!”

Sans’ SOUL already hurt so much that it took a moment to remember what she—oh, God. She meant when she’d told him she was Kris, and he’d scoffed at her until she stripped down to prove it. Now she’d been forced to reveal her identity to Toriel in the least natural way possible, and she didn’t believe her, either. “Frisk—”

She was smiling, but in a very unhinged way. “No, I should really be thanking you. Life is so much simpler now! I don’t have to waste any more time and energy wondering if I should feel worthless, because the closest person to a real mother I’ve ever had just told me so!”

Sans couldn’t answer: he had to fling himself backward before a cascade of sparks hit him in the face. Frisk drifted away a few steps and sank to her knees, hands still clenched on the envelope in her lap. “It’s fine,” she mumbled at the floor. “Food, presents, bubbles—I already gave you everything I have. If you don’t want me anymore, then…”

Toriel was rooted to the spot, chest heaving. The barrier sank lower, nearly grazing her horns, and Undyne rushed to sling her under the table as more sparks flew. “Sans!” the Captain shouted over the crackle and hiss of human magic.

The skeleton glared down at Toriel, and shook his head as she tried to speak. Frisk was too far gone—anything else the goat monster said would just aggravate her further, assuming she could even hear it.

Meanwhile, the dome was slowly closing in on them, and they couldn’t do a damn thing about it. If he tried to touch Frisk now, she’d just shove more magic at him; not only would that hurt like hell, it’d trap them all between two layers of barrier. He yelled her name again, but she didn’t move.

Shit! Why hadn’t Alphys warned him sooner? Why hadn’t Undyne kept her goddamn mouth shut about the letter? And if Toriel couldn’t accept right away that everything she knew was wrong and Chara was even worse than Sans had imagined, couldn’t she have found a way to deny it without completely destroying Frisk?!

Why hadn’t he—

No, all that mattered right now was getting through to her. The light surrounded them in blinding golden pulses, the barrier crackling like…

Humming. The barrier was making a hell of a lot of noise, and it…didn’t sound like her humming at all. Why was he thinking of that now?

…Because the last time his magic had been out of control, in his prison cell, she’d calmed him down by humming. But he hadn’t even heard her at first; he’d only snapped out of it when she touched his blaster – the physical embodiment of his magic – with her bare hand. He never did explain to her what a no-no that was…

Sans looked at his hand. He looked at his priestess, curled in on herself, lost in misery. The golden dome was so close to the crown of his skull that he could feel his whole body screaming at him to run.

The giant skeleton looked Toriel in the eye. Then he squeezed his sockets shut, lifted his arm, and placed his hand flat on the barrier.

Something…happened.

One second, the pressure in Frisk’s head was intolerable, grief and despair rising to a fever pitch, spurred by the determination to keep the monsters here until they changed their minds, till they were sorry. Then—

The sensation could only be likened to someone running their finger down the inside of her chest, the most strange and intimate thing she’d ever felt. It should have been horrible, or at least uncomfortable, but…

But it didn’t feel invasive. It felt like someone giving her heart a gentle nudge, saying in a familiar, gravelly baritone, “’s all right, Frisk. It’s gonna be okay. I promise. But you gotta stop now, ‘kay?”

The feeling slipped away. She stirred, trying to get it back; Frisk opened her eyes and—

Sans. Her chest gave a happy little shiver as she saw him looking down at her. He was standing nearby, giving her a strained smile and…and touching—the barrier—

Fear jolted her fully awake. Frisk whistled as hard as she could, and the searing golden light vanished. Her whole body ached, but it was nothing compared with what she glimpsed as Sans lowered his arm. “Oh, God! Sans—”

“Hey, kitten,” mumbled the boss monster. He had to stifle a grunt, shuffling hastily to turn his back to her. “Tori, could I…get a hand with this? Heh…ow…”

Frisk tried to get up from where she was kneeling, or at least stop shaking. Green light shone around Sans’ huge form, but she barely noticed; all she could see in her mind’s eye were his blackened metacarpals, the smaller bones not just burned, but partially melted by her magic.

Her legs refused to work. Frisk dropped the envelope and shuffled herself around in a half circle to see if anyone else was hurt, and whether they had seen her nearly kill her poor skeleton. No one was here…

“Aww, darn. You were so close.”

…except for a voice that felt like spiders crawling into her brain. The demon-child sat on the edge of a nearby table, shaking its head at her and sighing. Then it gave her an encouraging grin. “Oh, well. That was still fun—just like old times. Don’t worry, you’ll get ‘em someday!”

Someone moved behind her. Frisk blinked hard, then shuddered, and pushed herself up onto her feet, standing with her back to the demon.

Undyne was climbing out from under their table and offering a webbed hand to Alphys. “Undyne?” The human moved gingerly toward them. “Are you two all right?”

The Captain’s eye widened, and her arm shot out, protecting Alphys from…from what? Frisk glanced around them, looking for—

Her. Undyne was protecting Alphys from her.

And why not? Hadn’t she done exactly what the monsters feared most—trapped them with a barrier, maimed someone, and nearly killed them? Even Undyne was afraid of her now!

Frisk shouldn’t have gotten up: she felt her body go heavy, legs giving way. She was only vaguely aware that she was going to fall, and that Undyne was hesitating, moving too late to catch her.

A soft, tingling sensation stopped her just short of the marble floor, lifting her higher into the air. To her dismay, she was enveloped in red magic, and Sans was reaching for her; Frisk tried to say, “No, don’t—”

His arms closed around her, strong and safe, his injured hand settling her against his shoulder. The other drew his coat over her legs; a shaky phalange ran through her hair, and a shakier voice rumbled, “Y’okay, sweetheart?”

Frisk wound her arms around his neck as tight as they’d go, not caring how his vertebrae dug into her flesh. She was too numb to cry, and she didn’t have the strength to ask what he was doing, or why he was anywhere near her. All she could do was hang on.

Undyne cleared her throat. “She…is she okay now?”

“She’ll be fine,” snapped the giant skeleton, and immediately stroked Frisk’s hair again as she trembled. “Shh, s’alright,” he murmured.

“Sans,” Toriel said brokenly. “I—”

The world tipped and swerved as Sans shifted his weight, turning them away. “C’mon, kitten. Let’s go home.”

“To your house?” Undyne was still shaken, but Frisk heard a warning note in her voice. “Look, I know you’re really emotional right now, but she’s not in any condition to—”

“To sleep!” he snarled. “I’m takin’ ‘er home, and we’re gonna sleep! Good fuckin’ night!”

A tiny part of Frisk wanted to tell him to be nice, but she couldn’t even stay conscious. The last thing she heard was Toriel’s cry of “Sans, wait!” before his magic rushed them through space. Then—

On her third day at the convent, they finally made her leave her room.

Frisk kept her eyes on the ground, letting the matron steer her down a hall and out into a courtyard full of chattering girls. The noise dropped a little as they saw her, but when Frisk stayed by the wall, there was a collective shrug, and the chatter resumed.

The wind was howling. Frisk wiped her nose on the sleeve of her new uniform, wondering dully if it was going to snow out here. The drifts in front of Sans and Papyrus’ house never seemed to go down, no matter how often they tossed her into them.

Did they miss her yet? Did they even know she was gone? Or had the accident—

“Excuse me?”

Frisk looked up. Through her tears, she saw a group of older girls standing in front of her, with a grownup right behind—the Sister must have ordered them to come be nice to the new girl. Sure enough, the speaker was holding out a handkerchief, looking kind and concerned. “Thank you,” Frisk whispered, taking it and wiping her eyes.

“It’s all right. I know I was very sad when I first got here,” the girl said, a little too loud. She smiled, and Frisk tried not to shudder—she’d gotten so used to monsters that the girl’s pretty blue eyes, golden hair, and rosy skin looked fake, like a doll.

The grownup nodded approval and moved away to yell at another group for telling dirty jokes. Immediately, the blonde girl’s smile sharpened, and she wrinkled her nose. “Keep it,” she said curtly.

That was bad, but at least Frisk had expected it. What really hurt was when the group moved off and the girl said to her friends, “Oh my God, her hair! And did you see her eyes? She looks like a rabbit!”

The snickering felt like a scab being ripped off Frisk’s heart. “Geez, Mathilda,” another girl said quietly.

“Well, it’s true! They’re not supposed to be red! Is she cursed or something?” Laughter. “I’m serious! We all need to say extra prayers tonight!”

…

Would it have changed anything if Frisk had remembered that conversation? Soon after, the King visited and told her everything – how he had thought Chara was at least providing her with basic necessities, and he would be sure she never lacked for anything again – and when she worsened, they decided to remove her memories; the Mother Superior had repeated the most relevant facts about her father and her future education, and Frisk had accepted her new life.

As far as Frisk knew, the first time she met her best friend was soon afterward, when Mathilda switched places with someone to sit next to her at lunch. “Hello. You must be Frisk,” she said, smiling. “Do you, um…”

Frisk watched her in puzzlement. Why was Mathilda Owen bothering to speak to her?

Mathilda fidgeted. “Never mind. I just wanted to say hello.” Why did she look so guilty? Her friends were watching, whispering anxiously to each other, as though something important was at stake. “Would you like to come and sit with us? I hate to see you all by yourself.”

As soon as she figured out that it wasn’t a cruel prank, and she really was making friends with the most beautiful and kind-hearted girl in the entire school, Frisk was too happy to question things further. It took her a long time to realize that everyone knew why the King had been here, and that everyone wanted his daughter to like them, especially Mathilda.

Even then, Frisk had decided not to care. As long as she could earn their friendship by being kind and helpful, did it really matter how it’d started? It wasn’t as if she was only worth something because of her father.

…It wasn’t.

…Finally.

She shook the ruby droplets from the kitchen knife, wondering idly why he was the only monster who ever bled, then kicked the dust aside. It was time to move on.

Frisk awoke in a rush of adrenaline and half-remembered nightmares. It was dark; she thought for a moment that she’d been buried alive, then realized that something huge and leathery was draped over her entire body. No golden twilight through the windows, no blood, no dust…

Ugh. Her mouth tasted like a warm sock, and her head throbbed the way it always did when she’d used too much magic. With great care, the human slithered out of her warm prison for a look around.

She was in Sans’ room, lying on his outgrown mattress, his overcoat loosely wrapped around her. The lamp was on, but he’d draped an old shirt over it to diffuse the light into a soft glow, giving the cold, messy space a warmer aspect; in fact, the golden haze reminded her of—

A barrier.

Chills swept through her, clearing her head of other thoughts like a blast of frigid air. It wasn’t just a nightmare: she had used a barrier against monsters inside the Underground. There was no coming back from that, no excusing or explaining it away.

Even if Toriel hadn’t really meant it at the time, her order to leave would probably become reality. Her friends might not entirely blame her for lashing out, but there was still no way they could trust her anymore—after she had hurt Sans like that, she’d be angry if he did trust her!

Frisk slowly eased herself back down inside the coat, as if she could hide from what she’d done. In her bitter, selfish regret, she didn’t even think of what this meant for her peace efforts; all she knew was that the Underground was the only place she’d ever really belonged – her birthplace – and she had lost any right to be here. Back to the humans, then, and her suffocating routine of work, exhaustion, and loneliness, secretly hoping that maybe, if she could be useful enough, someone would love her for more than her money or her pedigree and stay. If she could just be good enough—

Well, obviously, she couldn’t.

Frisk wasn’t going to cry again. She was tired of crying about things in general, and in this case, there was no possible way to make herself feel better. Why bother making her headache worse and her sleeves all soggy again? She just burrowed deeper into the huge leather coat, willing her mind to subside into comfortable nothingness; at least she was good at that.

It usually helped to have something small to focus on, so Frisk unhooked her itchy black choker and scratched her neck, flushing at the memory of flirting with Sans in front of everyone. Then came her boots, her stockings, and her earrings…

…which weren’t there. The priestess frowned, fingering her earlobes. She didn’t remember taking them out. Had they come off while she was asleep?

Wait a moment. Sans had put her here, hadn’t he? Her satchel was close by; Frisk stuck her arm out until she could pull it over and peek inside. Sure enough, not only had the boss monster removed her earrings for her, he’d left them atop her folded clothes, where they were both safe and easily found.

For some reason, that one little thing, that bit of care and attention, was the last straw. She took a deep breath, only for it to catch as a huge sob tore loose, partly muffled by his coat. Then another, and—

Sans was suddenly standing by the mattress. “Frisk!” He sat down hard. “Frisk, it’s okay, don’t—”

The human forgot that he was supposed to be scared of her. Moving on pure instinct, she flung the coat aside and launched herself up at him, letting his shirt absorb the first wave of tears. “Aww,” he murmured, folding his arms over her back and cradling her head in one massive palm. “C’mon, sweetheart, ya don’t hafta cry. Everythin’s fine now.”

Frisk pressed her face into his clavicle, furiously shaking her head. It was important to explain to him that nothing was fine and it was absolutely correct for her to be crying, but she was crying too hard to get the words out.

Sans gave a large, soft sigh, carrying her outward and back in. “It’s okay,” he repeated, his voice rumbling throughout her body. She shook her head again, and he ran the side of his finger down her back. “Yuh-huh, it is. Calm down.”

She didn’t want to calm down, but as he kept petting her, Frisk’s sobs slowed down a little. The boss monster made a sound deep in his chest, and she answered him with one that made him squeeze her tighter.

There was that magnetic feeling again, as though she was completely stuck to him. This time, though, she wasn’t frightened. And this time, she felt something else: another sensation was stealing over her, so slowly that she thought it might just be her imagination. It was similar to when he’d accidentally given her his magic, but this didn’t seem accidental, and it wasn’t exactly magic…

She’d felt it when he touched the barrier, and here it was again, washing over her in gentle waves: guilt and anger at himself for kicking off the whole incident, anxiety for her, and…well. He didn’t think she was worthless, or dangerous, or that she needed to do a single thing to deserve forgiveness. His hand didn’t even hurt anymore. …Much.

Even if it did, he still loved her.

Frisk shook her head again, but her sobs grew slower and weaker, gradually coming to a stop. The human leaned away long enough to sniff back a giant wad of snot, then sought a dry patch of his shirt to wipe her eyes. She wasn’t sure how he was doing this, but she wasn’t going to question it right now. “Hand?” she croaked.

Sans was quiet. He grunted, then held his palm up. “It ain’t that bad. Looks kinda like a frowny face. See?”

The priestess gulped, raising her own fingers to trace the pattern of deep swirls and grooves her magic had left in the living bones. “Can…” Frisk had to swallow a few more times before she could whisper, “Can you still move them?”

He paused. She felt a closing-off sort of twinge in her chest, as though he’d decided to stop sharing his feelings so he could fib: “Yeah, pretty much.” His metacarpals waggled back and forth, the smallest of them longer than her entire hand. She poked the base of his thumb and forefinger, where a good two or three inches of bone were fused together. “That doesn’t count,” he said stubbornly.

Frisk shuddered, turning to rest her cheek near the top of his sternum. “I’m so sorry.”

“I know.” He shifted uncomfortably. “Do ya wanna talk about it?”

“I don’t know,” she said, and winced as her head throbbed. “What time is it?”

“Last I checked, it was about seven o’clock,” he replied, petting her hair again. “I got up maybe half an hour ago an’ healed you, just in case.” Tap, tap. “How’s yer hangover?”

“…Not that bad, actually.” Frisk yawned. She’d missed being with him so much that it felt like a waste to just sleep, but it was hard to argue with the results. After all she’d had to drink last night, and then…the incident, she was amazed that she only had a headache and an icky mouth. “Thank you for that. It feels like I got much more than five or six hours.”

Sans chuckled, tapping her head again. “That’s ‘cause it’s seven in the evening, kitten. I think we slept about eighteen hours.”

Frisk’s eyes shot open. “Are you serious?” She leaned back enough to look him in the face. “Is that even possible? I—”

The words faded as their eyes met. Frisk figured she must look pretty awful, but he wasn’t much better. “Did I miss a spot?” he asked gruffly.

The human nodded, reaching up to brush at the dried red on the corners of his sockets. Sans leaned into her touch as she rubbed his cheekbone. “You’re supposed to be a big boy now,” she scolded the giant skeleton. “Do I need to—”

Memory hit her again like a fist. Sans jumped as Frisk suddenly yanked her hand away, trying to push herself off him. “Hey!” he protested. “What’re you—wouldja hold on a damn minute?!” More by reflex than design, his hand tightened around her back, keeping her in place. “It was an accident, goddammit! You’re not gonna do it again!”

“No, it wasn’t!” Frisk thumped his shoulder with her tiny fist. “You don’t understand!” Thump. “It wasn’t an accident! I was so angry, I wanted to keep everyone there, and I didn’t want to control it! I don’t know what would’ve happened if you hadn’t stopped me!”

Sans started. “That little fucker,” the skeleton whispered, as if he’d realized something very profound. “I know what it was, Frisk. That goddamn thing was right there! I saw it a minute before the whole name thing started! I dunno if it made me drop the letter so you’d freak out, or if it was plannin’ something else, but it wanted you to go nuts! That’s why—”

“No! It wasn’t!” Thump. Thump. “Are you even listening?! It was me! I did it on purpose!” Thump. “I was already…” Frisk shuddered, shaking her head again as more emotions boiled to the surface. “Do you know how scared I’ve been? We’re halfway through our visit, and I haven’t even talked to anyone about ending slavery! I’ve just been thinking of how to tell Asgore and Toriel about Chara, whether they’d believe me and if I’ve been selfish to keep back something that could help make peace—I had no idea their estrangement was because Asgore knew Chara was lying about me! And I missed you so much—” His arms tightened, and Frisk caught herself on another sob. “I don’t want to go, Sans!”

“No one’s makin’ you go anywhere!” He gave her a very light shake. “We all know you, Frisk! Ya think anyone’s sittin’ there thinkin’, ‘Welp, that was inevitable, let’s go ahead ‘n toss ‘er out now’? Or d’ya think we feel like shit ‘cause we kept pokin’ you till you couldn’t take it anymore?”

“How can you say that?” she demanded. “It doesn’t matter how badly I was provoked! I wouldn’t let you get away with attacking me just because you were angry!”

“Y’already did. Remember?” He stroked her back with one knuckle. “You coulda done anythin’ you wanted once I quit tryin’ ta murder you, and ya put me to bed ‘n fed me.”

…Damn it. “That’s not the same thing! I—”

“Frisk.” His phalange brushed her cheek. “Yer the one who’s not listenin’. No one is makin’ you leave. We’re gonna talk about it with everybody, there’s gonna be a big damn fight over who’s the most sorry, an’ we’re gonna figure out how to get you in to see Asgore. You’re gonna say whatever you need to about Chara and lay out yer big plan to make everything all better. If he doesn’t wanna do it, we’ll figure somethin’ else out before we leave.” His hand rested on her back like a shield. “And I’m gonna quit actin’ like all I hafta do is stay outta yer way an’ let you do everything. From now on, I want you ta tell me if somethin’s botherin’ you before ya go crazy.” Squeeze. “Any questions?”

Frisk thought about it as she sniffled. “Yes. Why couldn’t you have been this sweet when I gave you the stupid chessboard?”

He snorted. “Yer startin’ ta sound like me!” Pause. Shrug. “Short answer? It was pretty much the best thing I ever got, and I didn’t know what to say.”

“Whatever happened to ‘Thank you,’ Sans?” Thump. “I was really looking forward to you opening your gift, and you couldn’t wait to get away from it!”

“I know, I know!” His shoulders hunched again. “’m sorry! I…wanted ta jump you, but that wasn’t exactly an option. I didn’t know what else ta do!”

How could he make her want to hug and slap him so badly? “Well, putting that aside, do you plan to spend the rest of your life running off when you get embarrassed?”

“I wasn’t—” He caught himself and scowled. “I dunno. Just…sorry I was shitty about the chess stuff. It was amazing, and thank you a lot for it. Okay?”

He was so exasperatingly cute that Frisk had to bite her lip. “All right, then. You’re welcome. I…”

Rrrrgggrgrgl.

They both froze as her stomach rumbled. Frisk made a sheepish sound, and Sans chuckled. “Right. I was in the middle of makin’ a couple sandwiches when I came up.”

Frisk nodded. “Where’s Papyrus?” She wiped her eyes again. “Please don’t say he’s planning to make dinner.”

“Nope! I left a note on the door tellin’ him and Undyne ta stay at the inn tonight. I said we’d meet ‘em at the Ruins tomorrow morning.”

They were going to be alone tonight? The priestess felt light-headed, her cheeks burning. Sans must have been thinking the same thing, because she could’ve sworn his bones were getting warmer. “Time ta eat,” he mumbled, and a blink later, they were in the living room.

Still in his arms, Frisk turned her head to survey the kitchen table. He’d set out a loaf of bread, some cheese, tomatoes, and a few other things, obviously dropped when he’d heard her crying. Frisk thought about it, then snuggled back into Sans. There was food, and she was starving, but he was right here, too; she didn’t know which she wanted more at the moment.

Another rumble from her stomach settled the question. “Off ya go,” he said reluctantly, and Frisk sighed, moving her hand down to push free of their stuck-togetherness.

Sans suddenly made a strangled sound. Frisk didn’t understand it, or why his hand had flexed to avoid squashing her, until she looked down: she’d accidentally reached in between his ribs, pushing his shirt through and wrapping her fingers most of the way around his middle rib.

She’d never put her hands inside his ribcage, assuming it was basically a private part, and it seemed she was right. Just like that, his breathing had grown ragged, his bones trembling as her hand tightened. There was no misinterpreting his physical reaction; she could imagine how his instincts to comfort and protect her were deepening into much more raw emotion…

…because it was completely mutual. The young woman tugged lightly on his rib, and felt him shudder again. “Frisk,” he muttered. “Knock it off.”

Frisk moved just enough to brush her cheek against his jawbone. “What?” One finger slid along the bone toward his sternum. “This?”

Sans’ entire frame jerked. “Yes, that!” He caught her wrist in the curl of his index finger. “If I was a human, it’d be like stickin’ yer hand down my pants!”

“You don’t want me to?” she asked, very matter-of-fact.

Sans’ arm across her back was almost hurting her. Not tight enough, then. “Frisk,” he said warningly.

“I’m serious.” She licked her lips, feeling heat spread through her, chasing away the sorrow and anger. “My period’s over, the house is empty, and your magic doesn’t have any negativity at all right now.” Her free hand drifted toward his sternum. “We both need this, Sans. Don’t tell me you’re not interested.”

“I’m not sayin’ that!” To her bewilderment, he seized her with his magic and set her on the couch with a butt-tingling thump. “Just… I want you so bad, I’m about to lose my damn mind!” His entire skull was bright red. “But you’re still messed up from somethin’ that only happened ‘cause I was bein’ a dumbass, an’ I’m not gonna do it when you’re not thinkin’ straight! That would be fuckin’ wrong! Got it?” Despite himself, he stepped closer to touch her cheek. “’Sides, there’s somethin’ we’ve really gotta talk about first. The letter from yer dad is…”

He trailed off as her face twitched. “What?” he asked suspiciously.

“So, you…” Frisk knew this was not the time, but she couldn’t keep the words from bubbling up: “You’d be…fucking wrong?” Her body was trembling again, this time with the urge to giggle. “You already went the extra mile and figured out how to be my size. I’m pretty sure that means you can do it correctly now!”

“Frisk,” he said, scandalized, and covered his face as she snrrrked. “God damn it, woman, I’m tryin’ ta be serious here!”

She didn’t answer, at least not out loud. Sans took one look at her face and gave his scariest growl. “No.”

“But—”

“Frisk.”

“But are you—”

“Friiiiisk—”

A long pause. Frisk sighed in resignation, shrugging one shoulder.

Sans nodded. “Okay. Now, for real, Frisk, I’m—”

“—fucking serious?”

The dam broke: one moment, they were staring each other down, and then they burst into hysterical, snorting laughter. Frisk was sobbing again, but for the right reason, dammit; Sans let his forehead thunk on the floor, trying desperately to stop long enough to say something, only to end up laughing harder.

Eventually, out of sheer weakness, they had to slow down, and reached a point where they could almost breathe normally. “Shit,” rasped Sans, and wiped his eyes on his sleeves. “Oh my God, I love you.”

Frisk’s breath caught, her heart coming to a standstill. She sat up, watching the skeleton realize what he’d said. His sockets widened, but he looked straight at her, almost defiantly. “What?” There went the red again. He looked away…and back. “’s true,” he said, very quietly.

There was no telling what she might have done if Sans hadn’t pushed to his feet and waved his hand at the table. The bread knife started sawing away, cutting the loaf into sandwich slices and assembling the ingredients. “We need ta eat somethin’, an’ then I should go track yer letter down,” he mumbled, trying to rub the color off his skull. “I dunno if someone picked it up, or if it got left up there, or what. You can get some time to yerself—take a bath or somethin’.”

A bath sounded good, decided the one functional corner of her mind. She accepted the glass of water and mostly-tomato sandwich he wafted over to her a moment later, ignoring his muttered apologies for its crappiness. Nor did she pay much heed when he said something else, tapped a knuckle on her shoulder, and winked out of sight.

Alone for the first time in several days, Frisk finished her sandwich. She put the dishes in the sink, went upstairs, and ran a very hot bath, staring at the steam rising from the water. Then she went to Sans’ room, removed all her clothes, and lay down to wrap herself in his overcoat again. She hadn’t touched herself since before they left the castle, and she was even more worked up now than she’d been the night she made herself clear to Sans; being in his room, with the feeling of his bones and everything he’d said to her fresh in her mind, anticipating time to themselves at last—that was more than her body could handle. So…

It took so little time that the water was still hot when Frisk stumbled back into the bathroom. She left the door open a crack before she got in the tub, because…the steam…had to escape. Yes. The door needed to be open. For the steam.

Frisk knew exactly when Sans returned; to her disappointment, she heard an embarrassed mutter in the hall, and the door clicked shut. Just because she could, Frisk splashed louder, whistling his favorite song and letting the notes linger than she probably had to. She let the water out, also loudly, and kept humming as she dried herself and got dressed.

Sans was obviously on his guard when she came downstairs, which was wise: she was wearing his old clothes again, hands in the pockets of his zipped-up blue jacket, though she hadn’t had the nerve to put on any socks. He gave her one glance, reddened again, and turned his head, shoving the golden envelope at her. “Here.”

Frisk swallowed. “Thank you.” She studied the envelope for a moment, then tossed it on the couch and advanced on him. “I’m feeling much better now, so—”

“Nope!” Sans skipped away fast enough to make her yelp a little. He held up his good hand, as if to ward her off. “Dammit, Frisk, I mean it when I say I’m not gonna fuck you yet! Sit down and listen!”

Startled, the human sank onto the couch. Sans scratched the back of his head, collecting his thoughts. “Okay. So. Gaster gave me that thing, an’ he told me what’s in it.” He shut his eyes. “First thing: your King’s been talkin’ about you all over the place. Everyone—all the humans know Chara was yer mom.”

Frisk’s stomach lurched. “I see,” she murmured. Sans watched anxiously as she blew out a long breath. “Well, at least if I start throwing barriers at humans, it won’t frighten them.”

Sans chuckled. “Nope. They’d think it was neat,” he agreed.

The priestess thought it over, and decided that this particular problem could go back on the shelf for now. “Did someone see the letter and start spreading the word?”

“Yep. Gaster says yer dad’s pissed off, and that’s his way of bein’ passive-aggressive.” He indicated the envelope. “He fixed up a bunch of legal stuff with your name all over it.”

“‘Legal stuff’?” Frisk scowled. “Am I being arrested for theft?” She almost hoped so; that was a fight she’d enjoy winning. “If I am, I swear I will burn down the entire—”

“Nope. Just the opposite.” The skeleton took a deep, deep breath. “He…”

Watching his face, it suddenly clicked. “He wants to adopt me?” she asked crisply.

Blink. “…Uh.” Blink. “…yes?” Emphatic blink. “How the hell did you know?”

Her teeth clenched, all her muscles knotting at once, and then she let it go with a sigh. “He hinted at it a few times back when I was teaching Gaius magic. It’s been so long, I forgot all about it.” Mostly. “The poor boy isn’t going to live long enough to have his own heirs, and my older siblings are almost all gone, so… I was hoping His Majesty would name one of his more distant relatives, or pick another of his children.”

“Well, you’re the best he’s got.” Frisk flushed as Sans sat down against the opposite wall. “Is that a normal thing fer humans? You’re gettin’ old and yer official kid is kinda puny, so you grab a backup?”

Frisk crossed her legs, absently enjoying his reaction. “It’s uncommon, but it’s happened before in order to keep a particular bloodline going.” She picked up the envelope and broke the wax seal. “I’ll bet you a million dinar my father says he’s invited Luke and Mathilda back to the castle with their family. He went to school with Luke’s father, so he probably wants to get reacquainted before they announce our engagement.”

The boss monster watched in silence as she pulled out a sheaf of expensive papers, setting aside the copies of her ducal investiture and adoption decree. Frisk unfolded the handwritten letter, read it over carefully, and nodded. “You owe me a million dinar.”

He didn’t laugh. “See? If you end up havin’ my kid, it’s probably not gonna improve yer chances of bein’ Queen someday and gettin’ to set everything right for everyone.” Sans shrugged, eyes on the floor. “Not the kinda thing I can ask you to give up just so I can get laid.”

Warmth bloomed in her chest and rekindled in her middle, where she was still sensitive from her personal time upstairs. “I’m not giving anything up. I don’t want to be Queen,” she said calmly. “I want to become the humans’ ambassador to the monster race and set up an embassy somewhere close by—maybe at the farm on the river.” She set the papers aside and got to her feet, her entire body humming. “And if I do have a child, I’m going to love it and raise it, no matter how hard things get…even if it’s only half human.”

Sans’ eyes went blank. “…Frisk?”

The High Priestess’ heart was pounding so hard that she wondered if he could hear it as she crossed the room. She stopped in front of him, and held her hand out. “Will you stay with me, Sans?”

His hand came up to engulf hers and tug her against him, even as he shook his head. “Ya can’t decide somethin’ like that so quick,” Sans protested. Frisk leaned in just hard enough for him to feel her breasts through the thick blue jacket, and he shuddered. “I-I mean, believe me, I understand bein’ horny, but—”

Frisk reached up to rap on his cheekbone with her knuckles. “Excuse me, sir, but my mind has been made up since I opened the box.” She turned to press her lips to his phalanges. “Take me to your room, please.”

The light in his sockets dilated nearly all the way. Massive hands closed around her, and the world suddenly rushed by, depositing them by the door in his room. His magic pulled the mattress out to the center of the floor, straightening his overcoat in lieu of sheets or a blanket; the skeleton released her and glanced around for a moment, visibly regretting that they weren’t in a more romantic or at least clean environment. “Close yer eyes,” he mumbled.

Frisk complied, feeling and hearing him compress his huge frame down to human size. She opened her eyes just in time for Sans to pull her down to the mattress, setting her in his lap with her calves draped over his femurs. As before, he didn’t seem to care how his clothes hung off him; he simply yanked his sleeves back, then slipped his arm around her waist, the other running through her hair as he mouthed her neck.

That was a good start; the priestess wound her arms around him as Sans pulled her even closer. She made a delicate little sound as he slid his tongue into her mouth, his movements slow and gentle until she deliberately nipped him.

He nearly snarled at her, one hand gripping the small of her back and the other tangling in her hair. Frisk almost purred at the twinges in her scalp, letting him hold her in place as the kiss grew rougher and his fangs grazed her lip. She couldn’t believe how easily this was coming to her, how gratifying it was—all it took was a few little sighs, soft touches, and complete sexual abandon. Who knew?

It was more than a physical urge, though. She couldn’t even guess which of them needed this more, to be held and explored, valued, accepted—

The hand on her back had crept under her jacket, finding the hem of her shirt and then encountering bare skin. Frisk shivered pleasurably at the feel of bones gliding up her side, and at the disbelieving sound he made. “Holy shit,” breathed Sans. “You’re so soft.” His nasal ridge dropped back to the crook of her neck; he inhaled so deeply that she felt a rush of cold on her damp skin. “You smell amazing—” His tongue ran across her throat, his teeth sinking just hard enough to make her whimper and reach up to caress his skull. “I don’t…are ya really sure about this?”

Sighing inwardly, the priestess nuzzled the side of his vertebrae; he sucked in his breath as her tongue ran over the dry bone. Her legs shifted toward him, hips scooting closer as she guided his hands to her waist. Sans accepted the invitation, hitching up his baggy trousers and carefully grinding his pelvis into her so that she could feel his magic more directly.

It was one thing to have undergone a comprehensive scientific education and read dozens upon dozens of romance novels, and quite another to actually feel male parts…or magical facsimiles. The eternal, universal question sprang to mind: how was anything that size supposed to fit in her? That couldn’t be right. If she didn’t know better, she’d dismiss the whole idea as an elaborate prank, and childbirth as some kind of optical illusion. But…

Frisk ducked her head into his shoulder, face burning as his fingers combed through her hair. Luckily, Sans was oblivious. “’s not fair,” he murmured above her. “Everythin’ about you feels nice, ‘n I’m just a buncha gross bones.”

Frisk gave a disapproving snort—this, she could handle. “Here, give me your hand.” Ignoring her hot cheeks, she took his wrist and slid his hand up under her jacket, unable to suppress a tremor as his phalanges traced the underside of her breast. “If I thought you were ‘gross,’ would I be letting you do this?”

There was no telling what Sans thought: his powers of speech had degenerated into a series of incoherent sounds. To her irritation, he withdrew his hand and grabbed at the bottom of her jacket, desperate to pull it over her head…only to blink in confusion as Frisk snrked at him, leaning back and helpfully tapping the zipper.

As it turned out, the joke was on her. In another split-second, Sans had the jacket unzipped and the sleeves pulled straight down her arms, the whole thing tossed aside; before she knew what had happened, he was crushing her against him, his hands back under her white shirt, palms sweeping along her sides and up across her back—

In the heat of the moment, both of them had forgotten about her scars. Frisk tensed as his hands passed over the rough skin, and he stopped dead. “This okay?” he inquired after a moment, giving her a few experimental pets. “Doesn’t feel too weird, does it?”

The young woman shook her head, resting it on his shoulder and reminding herself that he’d already seen them. There was nothing to worry about or feel ashamed of. “You can touch it if you want. It doesn’t feel like much of anything anymore—the nerve endings are gone.”

Sans ground his teeth. “Are ya sure I can’t go kill that bitch?”

Purely on instinct, Frisk placed her slender fingers between his upper ribs, near his sternum; his eyes widened further as she pulled herself the rest of the way onto his bony, baggy-trousered lap. “Please don’t,” she said against his jaw. “I think we have better things to d—”

In one motion, Sans pulled her shirt up to her collarbone and hitched her forward to lay them both down on the mattress. With her face aflame and her heart galloping harder than ever, Frisk stayed still as he rose on one elbow to look her over, jaws parting to breathe more heavily; but to her surprise, when he reached down, all he did was rest his right palm on her sternum, where they could both feel her heartbeat reverberating through the disfigured bones.

Frisk gradually forget to be embarrassed, or cold, letting him see that she trusted him enough to stay exposed. Sans moved his thumb a little, and without thinking, she rested her hand on his, playing with the gaps between his joints. They were both content to stay that way for a few quiet moments, studying the contrast between her skin and his bones.

Soon, though, he had to lean down again to kiss her, and his hand turned to stroke her breast with the backs of his fingers. Frisk made a soft sound and tried to sit up to demand more; to her surprise, he shook his head and slung his femur across her waist, pinning her to the mattress. “Slow down, kitten,” he muttered. “I don’t wanna go nuts an’ hurt you by accident.”

That was cheating. She was already aroused enough; when she reached down to grab his hand, only to have her wrists corraled and pinned over her head with a trace of red magic, she couldn’t help moaning out loud.

Sans’ orange eyes were fully dilated now. He had sat up and partly turned aside, but couldn’t look away from her writhing and urgent noises. “What’d I just say?!” he snapped.

“I can’t help it!” Frisk squirmed again. “Let me go, and I’ll stop! Please!”

With unnatural speed, Sans released her and kicked off his trousers. His full weight flattened her to the mattress, and something pressed very distinctively into her stomach; Frisk tried to look down between their bodies, but his baggy shirt was blocking her view. Was it red like the rest of his magic, or—

His fingers caught her chin, making her look up at him. “Okay, kitten. You ready?” He let go long enough to hook his phalanges in the waistband of her black-and-white-striped pants, and rested his forehead on hers. “I…” He exhaled, his entire body trembling. “I’m just guessin’ on size. Went with somethin’ like this.” His tongue stuck out for a moment. “If it doesn’t work, then—”

“It’s all right, Sans.” Frisk leaned up to kiss his jaw, wiggling her hips to help him remove her last piece of clothing. “Go ahead.”

Sans nodded, taking in the view with his jaws still parted and his eyes burning, but he clearly couldn’t wait any longer. She let him arrange her arms around him, then run his hand over her waist and hips, rubbing her thighs for an appreciative moment before he nudged her legs open.

Either Sans had read up on this process, or the instincts Undyne had mentioned could adapt to human anatomy, because he didn’t even hesitate. He plucked the folds of his shirt out of the way and reached down, and Frisk jumped as something prodded her entrance. She’d gotten a couple of her fingers in there before, but as Sans moved forward into her, she couldn’t help wincing. The pressure quickly grew into discomfort as her body started giving way; she buried her face in Sans’ shirt, and he paused for a second, then leaned in—

Romance novels had absolutely lied to her. The pressure built into sharp, burning pain as he pushed further into her, and Frisk couldn’t hold back a little sob as he moved out, and back in. He shook his head; she tried to tell him it was all right, only to cry out as he sank the rest of the way inside. “God—‘m sorry, Frisk, just—” His hips moved back again, and he started to sit up.

Frisk latched onto his ribs again, legs squeezing his pelvis in the strangest, strongest determination she’d ever felt. She didn’t care if it hurt: he needed her, she needed him, and she’d be damned if she’d let it end yet! “Don’t stop,” she whispered, keenly aware of the effect her voice had on him. Just to be certain, she ran her finger over the back of his skull. “Please?”

There were no more words after that. The boss monster slammed into her again, drawing another near-sob from her. He snarled deep in his throat, hands trembling as they grasped the overcoat behind her head; with a huge effort, he drew out and pushed in more slowly, then stayed still for a moment. Frisk made the mistake of wriggling her hips to try to adjust to the feeling of fullness – of intrusion, really – and he swiftly jerked out and slammed in again.

That was enough for Frisk. She pulled clumsily at him with her legs, and he either took the hint or couldn’t hold back anymore: he snarled in his throat, movements faster and more erratic the closer he came. Frisk held on, ignoring the pain and focusing on the fierce exultation of watching him lose himself in her; when he started to slow down a little, she growled and bit his clavicle as hard as she could, determined to see him finish.

Sure enough, Sans groaned deep in his throat, ending on a snarl; his hips went once—twice—three times more, and his arms locked around her, his entire body shoving her into the mattress as hard as she’d wanted. Frisk let him ride it out for as long as he wanted, waiting till the tension in his limbs finally relaxed and he slumped into her.

Neither one spoke for several minutes. There was no need for him to pull out: she felt his magic vanish, and tried not to breathe too big a sigh of relief. Well, she couldn’t be disappointed in the lack of multiple orgasms or even much pleasure yet—how could she when Sans was lying in her arms, rubbing his face slowly into her neck as his breathing began to slow?

Frisk stroked his skull and shifted her weight where his leg was digging into her, and immediately regretted it as her entire lower half protested. She was going to have many bruises in the morning. They would just have to work on their technique, she thought, resting her cheek on his cranium.

Sans showed no signs of life besides his breathing for several minutes. She was starting to worry a little when he moved his head enough to say, “M’rm.”

The young woman blinked. “Beg pardon?”

He was silent for a long time. “Never mind. I’ll ask ya later.” Sans rose up on his elbow and shakily leaned in to lick her neck again. “Thank you,” he murmured.

There was so much behind it that Frisk didn’t know what to say. Instead, she reached up and pulled his head back down to her breasts, resting his cheekbone over her heart. It made her remember how he’d shared his feelings directly with her before, and what’d happen if he tried that in the middle of sex…

Frisk sighed, closing her eyes. That was another thing to put away for later, to worry about and/or look forward to when she got to it. For now, she closed her eyes, and waited for Sans to say something; then she peeked at him, and saw that she was wasting her time. He was already fast asleep.

#songfell

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twilightgoddesshylia · 4 years

Text

The Incident

Read on Ao3 Here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23375077

This is. Entirely the fault of @linkeduniverse-incorrect

Ranger gives me IDEAS at oh-god-o’clock in the morning

+++

“Who let this happen.”

Time stood with his arms crossed, glaring the boys before him. The one eye always somehow made his stare so much ore intense, and they all shrunk under the force of it.

Warriors stepped forward, and they all held their breathe in wide eyed fear.

“Its my fault. I know how rash my sister is, and I still let the girls rush off on their own. I take all the blame,” He stood at attention, a good soldier ready to face his failure. Time’s cool stare didn’t budge.

“Wait no!” Wild jumped forward, flinching under Time’s attention. “I was the one who told her about it, I knew she would rush off, and I let myself get distracted, and then she was gone, and I’m sorry, I should’ve been guarding her, and I didn’t mean to but its my fault and-”

“It’s Twilight’s fault.” Despite the collective gasp Legend remained completely unrepentant, looking Time evenly in the eye. “He was with her the whole time and did nothing to stop it. He’s definitely one hundred percent to blame here, don’t listen to the self-sacrificing idiot team.” Legend crossed his arms, effectively ending his testimony, ignoring the other’s side eyes.

Time looked each one of them in the eye, before sighing, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Well Twilight. What do you have to say for yourself?” Time turned, facing his protege, as well as the . . issue at hand.

Twilight finally gave the group his attention, pulling away from the scene.

“I would sincerely like to see y’all do better. Frankly, I don’t know what the problem is.”

An observer, might note that, at this point, the eldest hero had developed a twitch in his eye.

“The problem,” said hero began, “is that this situation is in no way sustainable. We’re on a very serious and dangerous quest, we never know where we’ll end up next, or when a hoard of monsters will attack, and we certainly,” Time was near actually raising his voice at this point, “do NOT. Have the room, time or resources to keep a Hylia damned PEACOCK!”

Silence reigned, briefly, and then-

“WUUAAAWK! EEEHH! EEEHH! EEEEEH!”

The “issue” was this: Hylia, had made a friend. Twilight, had been with her when Linkle- and it was still odd to think Warriors had a twin; how did that work with the hero’s spirit?- had bounded up and asked if they wanted to see a something even cooler than a cucco. Now, had he been more familiar with his friend’s sister, he might have been more wary. Or not. He did love animals, even the ones that frightened him, like cuccos. The point being, that one might have considered what exactly she might find more interesting than a cucco.

The answer, was, naturally, the biggest peacock Twilight had ever seen. Not that he’d seen many, but there were a few in the castle gardens, that were terrible gossips when he was in wolf form. This one however, was significantly larger than those. Hylia’s size, or lack thereof, was made very obvious next the over sized fowl. A giant, white peacock. Because of course it was white. Really, what happened next was truly an inevitability, a design of fate.

They were supposed to keep there distance, as Linkle warned them of the disturbing level of aggression the Peacock had displayed, and they did! But, the bird had other plans. It waltzed right up to where they sat at the edge of the wood, and plopped itself in Hylia’s lap.

She had thrown her arms around the massive bird, and looked Twilight straight in the eye, declaring, “I love him, and I’m keeping him.”

Their fate was sealed.

Now, Time stood, attempting to wrangle some sense into the situation, while the others looked on but Twilight knew it was futile. Hylia made ordonian goats look compromising when she dug her heels in, and the peacock might actually be worse.

“We can’t keep it.” Time was actually attempting to stare down the goddess who faced hatred incarnate. No one could ever call him a coward, but clearly he still had something to learn about picking battles.

“Archimedes has decided to accompany us, and quite frankly, I don’t see how you can stop him.” Hylia mirrored Time’s crossed arms. She was absolutely mocking him. The newly dubbed Archimedes found this hilarious, bugling happily.

“You..Named it.. what.” Time’s voice could not have been flatter. Archimedes also found this amusing.

“Archimedes Ranger Hyrule. The first. He’s quite intelligent, no need to be insulting.”

“. . .”

At this point, Twilight was certain his mentor had broke. The absurdity of the situation was too much. They were arguing with Hylia, white goddess of Hyrule and time itself, about whether or not she could bring a giant peacock named Archimedes, along on their mysterious quest through time.

That is A Lot.

Hylia, finally taking pity on the poor man, pranced up and squished Time’s face with her hands “Oh don’t be such a worrywart; He’s a giant, wild Peacock, he can take care of himself. He can hunt, he doesn’t need bedding, and he can easily keep pace with us. It certainly won’t trouble us; in fact, birds make wonderful guards, especially the larger fowl. Think of Archimedes as big breathing alarm.” she beamed, and well. Twilight didn’t see how anyone could refuse that smile.

Time closed his eye “I’m not winning this, am I.”

Hylia giggled standing tiptoe and tugging his head down to place a kiss over his scar. “Absolutely not.” She pulled away, and faced the others, beckoning them closer to her and the bird.

“All right boys, come properly meet Archimedes; don’t crowd him now, he likes hugs but only on his terms. . .” The heroes were relieved and curious about their new companion.

Twilight clasped Time’s shoulder. “He really is a decent beast.” he tried to reassure him.

Time eyed the group were Archimedes was allowing a hug from an enthusiastic Wind “We never stood a chance.”

“Not even a little bit.” They looked at each other and shared a chuckle, before joining the group.

All’s well that ends well.

Though, this wasn’t even close to being the end.

#linked universe #linked universe fic #linkeduniverse fic #linkeduniverse #time #twilight #hylia #wild #legend #Warriors #wind #Blame Ranger for this

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writing-the-end · 4 years

Text

LoL Chapter 5- Milliara

Master Post

A Wizard Hermits tale (AU belongs to @theguardiansofredland )

Arriving in Milliara, the hermits are excited to finally share what they found with the Magistrate of Lairyon. Things....don't exactly go the way they plan, however. Meanwhile, on the hermit island of Eremita, an old friend returns.

___________________________________

The walls of the capitol stretch across the swampy marshes of mid-Lairyon, the only firm and permanent ground being the roads and city streets. During the winter months, when the marshes flood with snowmelt from the mountains both north and south, the walls protect the city from the rising waters as well as attacks from monsters and other enemies.

Entering through the massive Kindness Gates of the northeast wall, Scar can’t help but feel like the gates don’t reflect their names. The sharp iron teeth of the portcullis bear down over them as they walk through, just one pull of a chain and the bars would clamp down and bite him in half. He glances to the side, noting the sharp halberds each soldier stands at attention with as well- faces devoid of any emotion. It takes Scar a second to realize they aren’t real people- they’re all the multiplication of one man. Very real, but magical all the same. Clones, with the real man as the captain.

Scar scurries back to the group of hermits, looking around at the massive, sprawling city. A shadow casts over them, the pillar representing one of the eight core values set by the king. Kindness, casting it’s long shadow over the bright pennants and green canals of the streets. Wooden buildings stand on stilts, resting on the steppes and tiers of the city. From beside and beneath the houses, waterfalls pour over mossy and verdant lips of ground, water traveling through the city like blood through veins. Little boats carry messages, their fabric sails filled magically. They bob down the canals, bumping across lilypads and the flowers that live on circular islands, tipping over waterfalls but never losing it’s precious mail.

And already, the hermits can see the center of the city, the heart of Lairyon. Three large buildings, white as aged cypress trees, and just as old. The castle, with gleaming towers that stretch out like branches, home of King Sor.

In the center, a stout building with twin water wheels, spinning in their eternal race to nowhere. Moving water across all of Milliara, like a heart pumping blood. Water is the lifeblood of Lairyon, the island nation. The structure is a feat only completed through the help of all the cities. Metal from Dwarveil, flown in with cooperation from Foresta and Edenswell- their magic and animals. The mill, built by the brightest engineers from Darlon, and the water moved with the aid of Rivera and Watercrest’s magical affinity.

And to the right, the newest building. The capitol house, home of the magistrate and Council of Guilds. It’s they who make the laws, with the magistrate as the elected head of the people. Vaulting windows that spiral up the shortest building of the three, and the flag of Lairyon at every corner and trellis. That’s where the hermits are going. The capitol building, to meet with Magistrate Dolios. Some call him the People’s King- elected by the populace, but in power almost as long as the young king has been. The people just keep electing him every new season.

Doc rubs his shoulders, glancing out the corner of his eyes as they walk over a bridge, white twisted roots and pennants bearing Lairyon’s colors inviting the hermits into the city center. “Doesn’t this feel wrong, you guys?”

“What do you mean?” Jevin tilts his head, slime squishing and a lock of his blue semi-liquid hair falling into a cowlick.

“I mean...we should be more careful, man. We’re an illegal guild walking into the center of the law. Most of us have been on the wrong side of this man and his rules about guilds for years.” Doc tugs on the sleeves of his robes, the tattered ends sticking out like a sore thumb around high society.

“You’re just being paranoid, dude.” Ren snickers. “Not all of us are hardened criminals that have done time in prison. Just you, Doc.”

“Besides, the magistrate said if we investigated that mega problem in Gildara, we’d become a legal guild. Well, now here we are to claim our reward!” Iskall adds.

“Why now, is all I’m asking.” Doc picks up his pace, falling in step with Xisuma. “How many times have we been rejected to be a new guild? I mean, we tried to follow Dolios’s law and get a license, but we were always rejected for no freaking reason! It’s not a fair law, but now all of sudden he wants to give us what we were denied? And why not ask any other guild?”

Xisuma tightens his lip, though no one but him knows. His mask is on, protecting him from the sunlight. “We can’t go into this assuming anything. We did what the magistrate has asked, despite the clear violation we are in with his own laws.”

“Just...remember that.” Doc slinks back, falling into step with BDubs and Zedaph. Both of which would rather not be in the busy city center. Guilds have been restricted by law, one of Magistrate Dolios’s early orders passed. A licensed guild is moderated, inspected. Safer than an unlicensed guild. At least, according to the capitol, they are.

But unlicensed guilds have their reasons for existing. It’s expensive to run a legal guild, so missions often come with high expenses. The Hermit guild picks up work legal guilds would refuse, helping poor towns who can’t afford such high commission fees. To many of the hermits, the laws of guilds are too strict. They don’t allow for creativity, for individuality. To belong to a guild has become a status symbol few poorer or uneducated mages can attain. The knowledge stays within the guilds, and especially the Council of Guilds has become a country club of sorts. The new nobility.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve stood here.” Stress whispers, looking up the steps of the capitol building.

“Right there with ya, mate.” Mumbo runs his bottom lip over the hairs of his mustache, looking around. Hoping no one notices him. Stress ran away from the high life. Mumbo was abandoned by it. The guild walks up the steps, an odd crew seen at the crown of the kingdom. A mix of criminals and nobles, mischief makers and rule followers, quiet souls and crowd pleasers. And their magic is just as varied. Guild members and other government officials stare as they enter into the grand hall of the capitol, clean pressed robes a harsh contrast to the battle worn and road weary hermits. Grian still has hay sticking out of his hair.

The staircase, with velvety red carpet and marble steps, is blocked by giant magical swords. Guards wield the blades, keeping what they can only imagine to be riffraff out of the offices. “State your business, wizard.”

“We are here to meet with Magistrate Dolios.” Xisuma states, lifting his chin proudly. The guards don’t move, only glancing at one another. X rolls back on his heels, the awkward silence prolonging until he’s popping his lips just to fill the void. He typically likes that stuff too. “I expect he knows we’re coming, right?”

“Why would the magistrate, the leader of Lairyon, want to see a bunch of mongrels off the streets?” One guard hisses, nose wrinkling. “You all reek of backwater, why don’t you return to your-” The second guard is cut off as his sword pulls away from blocking the stairs to point at the hermits.

“What do you think you’re doing to my esteemed guests?” A clear, calm voice cuts through the air. A voice that demands the attention of every single person in the hall, including every hermit. The guards turn, looking up the stairs. And standing at the top, hand resting on the stone railing, is Magistrate Dolios.

Curly brown hair, the color of fertile soil fresh from a morning rainfall, sweeps down into a tame ponytail, framing a tanned face and charismatic blue-hazel eyes. A soft smile creases between the magistrate’s beard. Purple and red robes flow down the stairs, a golden tassled belt denoting the man as the magistrate of the Council. “You put those barbaric weapons away, and let these good people of Lairyon up the steps.” Dolios looks to Xisuma, nodding his head and placing a hand over his heart. “I have been anxiously awaiting your return.”

The guards don’t hesitate to follow the magistrate’s orders, sheathing the weapons and letting the hermits pass by. Most follow Magistrate Dolios up the stairs, though Doc can’t help but give the arcane guard some trouble on his way past. For once, they can’t do anything to arrest him. The hermits follow the magistrate up into the offices, walking along the velvet carpet with awe. Most have never seen such riches in their life. Dolios’s words are just din. “I’m so glad you arrived completely unharmed. But may I ask...where is your guildmaster?”

“TFC? He went back to our compound to research a specimen he found in Gildara. He didn’t want to waste a minute, so he left alone.” X responds, stepping through the door that Dolios opens.

They’re in his office. It’s large, but the space feels tight. It’s full of artifacts and trophies, both manmade and organic. Zedaph immediately shrinks in, the head of a bakunawa mounted on the wall beside him. Impulse and Tango look around as well, all three members of team ZIT unnerved by the office. Something doesn’t feel right. But Dolios is perfectly at home, sauntering behind his desk and sitting down. His eyes run across the hermits before him, picking up a white feather from his desk as his eyes pass over Grian. “So, tell me. What did you find in the town of Gildara?”

Joe steps up, repositioning his glasses on the bridge of his nose and clearing his throat. “When we reached about five kilometers from the town of Gildara, we became aware of the earth turning grey, like ash. But not just the top layer- the entire ground was devoid of life. Crops that grew died, and wooden poles were beginning to rot. When we reached the town, it was completely uninhabited. We soon discovered a crystal deep within the well of the town, which was unaffected by any magic we threw at it.”

Dolios nods his head slowly. “So how did you take care of the problem?”

“We...We didn’t. Two people- who we can only describe as being simple husks, devoid of thought, life, or energy beyond basic magic- appeared, attacking us. The crystal then lashed out, and we were only able to make it retreat before falling back ourselves.” Joe bites his lip.

“You asked us to investigate the disturbance, Magistrate Dolios.” Xisuma steps up, brushing out the top of his outfit. “We took care of the crystal, sending it into dormancy. But the people of Gildara are gone. I think this requires more researching before we can truly do something to break that crystal. Based on my albeit limited knowledge- they don’t really cover this kind of magic at the academy- I do believe this crystal was corrupted by dark magic.”

The office is silent, Dolios staring at the hermits. Finally, he sighs. “That is rather...disturbing news. Do you have any idea who could be behind this?” All of the hermits shake their heads in unison, thought team ZIT becomes distracted by something fluttering on the wall. “Unfortunate. Well, your work is valuable to my cause. I have learned a great deal from this.”

Dolios stands, hand waving. The door behind the hermits opens, allowing the harsh light of the hall into the dark office. False raises an eyebrow. “So...does that mean we’re a guild now? A legal guild?”

Mumbo steps back as he sees a dangerous glint enter Dolios’s gaze, though his lips never turn away from the charismatic smile he wears like jewelry. He closes his eyes, hand raising to cover his mouth. But it does nothing to hide the laughter, growing as his shoulders bounce and he leans back in his chair. It’s a low laugh, reverberating from the chest like a growl. “You really believed I would give you the honorable title of a licensed guild...just for that?”

Doc rips forward, hand waving across and nearly knocking half a dozen knicknacks from the Magistrate’s desk. A few papers lift up, but the magistrate places a hand over them without even looking away from the puppeteer. “We did what you contracted us to do! You said we’d be a legal guild!”

“You mean this contract?” Dolios’s fingers dance across a parchment paper, bearing the signature of the Order of Hermits’ guildmaster. TFC’s crawling, stout signature. He lifts it up, showing it to all the hermits with brazen eyes. A devious curl appears at the corner of his soft smile, and he snaps his fingers.

The contract goes up in flames. Ash sweeps past the hermits, carrying all their hopes and dreams along with it. “Why would this nation need a pack of roaches like you? I will let this unlawful congregation of...miscreants pass through Milliara for now. But you all are in direct violation of my laws, and must disband at once. You are dismissed.”

“That’s not fair!” Grian shouts, scrabbling up Mumbo to get a better view- a better place to yell from. “You contracted us to investigate Gildara, you contacted us yourself! You-”

“You need to learn to stop squawking your mouth, little bird.” Dolios cuts him off, twirling the feather in his hand. Zedaph notices red stains on the pure white barbs. “I recommend you all leave my office now, before your privilege as esteemed guests becomes the misfortune as unlawful intruders to the leader of Lairyon’s own office. I will repeat myself only once more. You are dismissed.”

Doc is the first one out. Storming through the guild, muttering “I told you so” under his breath. Zedaph races out next, tears pricking at the corner of his eyes. Tango and Impulse are close behind their friend. Once every last hermit is out, the door slams closed, and the same guards that met them at the bottom of the stairs have arrived to escort them out.

-----------------------------------------------------

“TFC? Where is everyone?” TFC looks up, pulling the magnifying piece from his eye and setting down the black crystal. Before him, a knight in shining armor has appeared, or at least the closest version the hermits can find.

“Ahh, Wels. What took you so long?” TFC grumbles, returning to his inspection of the crystal. The short tone sets Wels aback, brows furrowing. Their guildmaster is typically overjoyed to have a hermit return from a mission. Hugging, checking them over for wounds, and asking about the job done.

“You know Alphasgard. Just a bunch of sticks in the asses.” Wels shrugs, feeling his shoulder ache where the bone and skin is still healing. Those rogues thought they could torture him for information, but they just made him mad. “Nothing I haven’t dealt with before. Got some pretty sick scars to show off when the others return. Where are they?”

But TFC isn’t listening, back to prodding the crystal with a metal needle. Scraping at the lustrous surface. Wels steps away, setting his shield down at False’s forge before returning to his home. He glances back at TFC’s crystalline cave. Something isn’t right. TFC would be hounding Wels to take a look at his scars. He always berates the younger members for being so reckless, but then pats them on the back- quite rough- and congratulates them on another great tavern tale earned. But TFC is alone, on the empty island. How long has he been the only one here? Just him and that strange crystal?

And what happened to the other Hermits?

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raendown · 4 years

Link

A commission from @officerjennie for a friend!

Pairing: TobiramaItachi Word count: 5077 Rated: T+ Summary: Itachi and Tobirama get a cat. They didn't really mean to. They certainly weren't prepared to.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

KO-FI and commission info in the header!

Meow and Furever

They hadn’t actually intended to get a cat. If not for their own collective lack of creativity they would never have even been inside the shop that day. Social niceties dictated they bring some sort of gift to Hashirama’s house-warming party that weekend but neither of them were any good at buying gifts for other people; such was the main reason they had a long standing agreement to the limit of one gift each during the holidays. Without any better ideas they had come to the conclusion that they would instead purchase gifts for Hashirama’s many dogs. That was just the sort of cute gesture he would adore and it came with the added bonus of not disappointing any human recipients.

So off they went to peruse through aisle upon aisle of nonsense toys that made an entire cacophony of noises when squeezed or shaken. It was standing at the end of aisle twenty-seven with a plastic hotdog between his hands that Itachi spotted the beast who would change their lives forever.

“Tobi,” he murmured from one corner of his mouth. When the other did not respond he reached out to nudge lightly with one elbow. Tobirama grunted, looking up from comparing two different squeaky donuts.

“What is it?”

“Look.”

He did. And what he saw was quite possibly the ugliest cat he had ever come across in his entire life. Situated behind glass in a wall of cages designed to attract potential pet parents while also keeping the animals safe, a pair of amber eyes glared back at him in a way that spelled death. Or possibly begged for treats. It was hard to tell under the absolute explosion of ginger fur and the massive jaw.

Almost before Tobirama could process the man had even moved Itachi was across the aisle and all but pressed against the glass barrier, fingers coming up to trace patterns in the air for the angry ball of fluff to follow with its eyes. The store employee standing nearby gave them a side glance that practically smelled like a sales pitch. She watched with dollar signs in her eyes as the giant orange cat stretched out both front legs and yawned, showing off uneven teeth sticking out in all sorts of strange directions, then pattered daintily closer to the glass where it sat and resumed staring at the brave human who dared to approach.

“What on earth happened to its face?” Tobirama wondered out loud. As though it heard him, the cat turned to look at him with both ears swiveled forward as best they could over the crumpled folds of skin. Despite its obvious feline roots one could almost mistake it for a pug with a face that squished.

“Poor genetics,” the nearby employee piped up. “He was born that way. It’s put off quite a number of potential owners.”

“I think he’s beautiful,” Itachi breathed.

When the cat looked back in his direction he cooed and wriggled his fingers enticingly. Tobirama sighed. After several years together he knew his partner very well and he knew the look in those dark, beloved eyes. Come hell or high water they were going to take that animal home. Oh he could put up a fuss and dig in his heels, he could come up with a dozen logical arguments why they shouldn’t or couldn’t, but when Itachi really wanted something he had ways of being quite convincing. All of them were very underhanded. None of them were the sort of thing Tobirama wanted strangers to witness in the middle of a public pet shop.

Still, he had a reputation to maintain. With as stern of an expression as he could muster he simply growled, “No.”

“But look at him!” Itachi whipped about to stare at him with wide eyes.

“I am,” Tobirama said. “He’s as ugly as sin.”

“He’s perfect.”

“The answer is no, Itachi, we are not taking him with us. We don’t have anything for a cat at home. He would destroy the furniture we only just finished paying off!”

Despite knowing this was a battle he would inevitably lose Tobirama folded his arms with every intention of standing his ground.

An hour later they were trooping out the front door of the shop with half a dozen bags of assorted feline paraphernalia and a plastic carrier containing one very smug orange monster. The inside was meant to be lined with blankets for extra comfort but after the third was ruined before it could even make it halfway inside the staff decided that perhaps it was best they keep anything soft far away from those sharp claws until the thing was no longer their problem. Tobirama said a silent goodbye to the sides of his couch even as he watched Itachi settle the carrier across both knees and murmur soothingly through the grated door. Incredibly, he did not get hissed at.

For the entirety of the drive home the two new cat parents discussed their options for names. On the adoption forms Itachi had written down the first thing that came to mind simply for the sake of being able to take him home quicker but that was one thing Tobirama had successfully put his foot down on. He refused to call out ‘Butternut Squash’ whenever he inevitably got angry at the cat for something. They tossed a lot of options back and forth and by the end of the drive it was narrowed down to two different options.

“I would have thought you’d be more excited about ‘Tang’,” Itachi mused. “It’s close enough to the word dang that you could almost feel like you’re swearing.”

“True. Unfortunately it reminds me of that awful drink powder my brothers were all obsessed with when we were young.”

“Ah yes. That would be why I rejected ‘Clifford’. I remember it a little too well from a show my own brother used to enjoy.” He frowned briefly, though it faded when his new monster gave off a sort of rumbling sound that might have been purr or growl, it was impossible to tell.

Pulling in to the driveway, Tobirama gave a sage nod. He’d never liked that show either. “Alright so what are we going for? I’ll leave the final decision up to you; are we calling him Winston or Rohan?”

He didn’t get an answer until after they had fought their way out of the car and in to the home with their many large bags. Itachi set the carrier down on the kitchen floor and then sat beside it to coo through the door soothingly. Whether or not it worked was hard to tell. Before opening the door to let their new family member roam free he paused to crane his neck up with a smile.

“Would you consider another option?” he asked.

“Seriously?” Tobirama lifted one eyebrow. “We just spent half an hour narrowing this down and you want to throw in a new contender?”

“Tesla. We could call him Tesla.”

“...because all that fur makes him look like he’s been in some sort of electrical accident?”

“Precisely.” As if to prove the point he’d already made Itachi squeezed the latch and twisted, swinging the little door open, then beamed with a parental sort of pride as their newest addition came stumping out of its carrier in a gait that reminded Tobirama very uncomfortably of his brother’s best friend.

True to his proposed name, however, the cloud of orange fur surrounding the cat’s massive bulk stood out from his body in raggedy clumps that gave a very good impression of being recently electrocuted. After pausing to rub himself up against Itachi’s knee almost incidentally he took a few cautious steps and lifted his nose to sniff the air. His misshapen little nose wriggled in time with his ears, swiveling front and back while he tried to take in as much information as possible about this new environment. Both humans watched him take a few more steps-

Only to plop his bottom down on the linoleum and declare the whole adventure business to be too much trouble. Instead he stretched out and rolled over to put all four paws in the air.

“I’m not sure what that’s supposed to mean,” Tobirama murmured.

“Maybe that he feels safe here already?” Hesitating very briefly, Itachi reached out and dared to run his fingers through the wild hair covering the belly on offer. “Oh. Oh he’s so soft!”

“So clumpy, you mean. I wonder when he last groomed himself.”

His partner gave him a stern look. “Quit insulting him and just tell me whether or not you like the name!”

“Yes, I think Tesla is a good name for him,” Tobirama gave in. It wasn’t a lie, he did think it was a good name and it definitely appealed to his nerdy side, he was just a little too fond of the way Itachi’s nose wrinkled whenever he was exasperated. He was a little too fond of many things about this man.

Tesla himself seemed to approve of the name and he showed this by rolling heavily back on to his feet and strutting away from them both with his tail held high in the air. His short hesitant footsteps were surprisingly delicate for a creature of his size. Just as Tobirama was beginning to think that perhaps adopting him wouldn’t be quite as big of a change to their lives as he had initially suspected Tesla paused to lock his gaze on to the dishes piled up by the sink. With both of their families stopping by for visits over the past week there hadn’t been much free time to wash the dishes just yet so the stacks were getting just a little wobbly. That, of course, is precisely what caught Tesla’s attention.

Before either of them had time to do more than gasp with prophetic despair Tesla crouched down and launched himself upwards straight towards the tallest and most wobbly stack of dishes on the countertop. It was only by the grace of some god or other that all the bowls and cups he smacked in to face first were each made of plastic. A good thing, too, as they all immediately came cascading down towards the floor amid shrieking yowls of surprise. Tesla’s little claws screeched against the kitchen floor as he landed only to shoot out of the room in fright, abandoning his new parents to the task of cleaning up his very first mess.

Tobirama felt he was being incredibly generous by waiting until after they had spent five minutes chasing waywards cups that really wanted to roll their way to freedom before turning to his partner with both eyebrows on the upper limits of his forehead. Unfortunately for the sassy remark he’d been composing in his head, Itachi beat him to the punch.

“He lived his whole life in that shelter,” he reasoned. “A pile of dishes is probably something he’s never seen before; he couldn’t have known that would happen!”

“Don’t think logic will save him from my wrath every time,” Tobirama muttered.

Gathering up as much dignity as he could, he set all his gathered dishes down and swept out of the room. Now would have been a perfect time to actually wash the dirty cutlery and so on but he was much more concerned with what else their fluffy new resident could have gotten in to. Five minutes was a long time for a cat to be loose in an unfamiliar environment. All it took was a couple of visits to any of his brothers’ homes to know that pets were their own class of natural disaster.

As it turned out, his instincts were correct. Barely two steps past the kitchen Tobirama broke out in to a run as a terrible ripping sound reached his ears. When he skidded in to the living room it was to find Tesla halfway up their living room curtains, although by the look of the long rips he’d probably made it quite a bit higher before the polyester gave up its structural integrity. Granted, those curtains were ugly as ugly as he was and only remained in the window because they’d been a gift from Itachi’s younger brother at some point, but that didn’t make the prospect of replacing them any more pleasant.

“I should leave you there,” Tobirama snapped. Tesla wriggled until he could tilt his head for a very cute and innocent meow.

“What happ- oh! He’s stuck! Can you hold the curtains still so I can get him down?” Itachi inched around their cluttered living room to reach the window where he began stroking down the cat’s back, hoping to sooth him.

Tesla honestly didn’t look like he needed much soothing. He purred to have such gentle affection, a sound that could be compared to a dying lawn mower, and continued to hang in place as though such had been his intentions all along. It took the two humans working together several minutes to detangle all four sets of claws so they could set the cat back on the ground, whereupon he immediately leapt on to the couch and began kneading the blanket Mito had crocheted for Itachi as a birthday present several years back.

“You’re not going to stop him?” Tobirama asked incredulously. “He’s going to pull out all the threads and leave holes!”

“It’s crochet, it’s already full of holes. No one will notice.”

“Mito will notice.”

Like he’d been struck with lightning Itachi launched in to action, crawling over furniture to reach for Tesla and very gently encourage him to leave the blanket alone. Evidently having his activities interrupted was grounds for declaring war in cat language. The moment his claws were once again detached Tesla hissed wetly at them both and took off down the hall to disappear in to yet another new room. Both men hurried after him.

One cat, Tobirama thought to himself as they came to a skidding halt outside the bathroom. It was only one bloody cat. If he didn’t already know the exact devastated expression his partner would give him for doing so he would give up now and toss the bloody animal outside in to the garden. Gently, of course, because he was actually pretty fond of cats himself. But he was also fond of maintaining an orderly home life and while the cat he’d taken care of growing up had been docile, almost demure, it hadn’t exactly taken him a lot of time to realize this one would not behave the same. They may have chosen his name for the way his fur stuck out at odd angles but it was becoming very clear that Tesla had lightning in his veins as well. Tobirama could already predict many nights being awoken by an attack of ‘the zoomies’ as his brother called it.

“Ah! Tesla! Don’t eat that please!” Itachi hurried forward to rescue the bowl of sweets he kept on his side of the bed for the rare occasion he got a craving. “I don’t think those are good for you.” Tesla meowed curiously and made a valiant effort to follow the bowl, determined to continue inspecting the contents.

“Just let him sniff it and maybe he’ll leave it alone once he knows what it is,” Tobirama suggested.

“But what if he tries to eat one?”

With a sigh Tobirama looked down at the cat stretched up on his hind legs and shook his head. “Then I suggest putting it inside your nightstand for now. Come on, you, let's show you where your litter box and food are. Maybe that will calm you down.”

Tesla gave a very loud protest when he was picked up without further warning. As good as he’d been in the carrier, he didn’t seem to appreciate being swung freely through the air. Unfortunately Tobirama didn’t trust him to keep his claws to himself just yet and so he opted for holding the beast out in front of him like a stinky sack of potatoes rather than cuddling him up close as he would with any other cat. Considering the size of him it was no surprise that Tobirama’s arms began to feel the strain long before he finally made his way in to the laundry room where they planned to set up the litter, figuring this was the best place for any possible stinkiness.

Only after he had arrived and found himself in the middle of the room did he remember that they hadn’t actually had time to set anything up just yet.

“How much do you love me?” he asked in a flat voice. From behind he heard Itachi cough in a poor attempt at covering up a bit of laughter.

“Enough to lock you in here with him while I go get everything ready.”

Tobirama sighed despondently. It was probably for the best. Leaving Tesla in here alone would probably result in some kind of disaster. Reluctantly and with much pouting, he agreed, watching the door close them in like a prisoner might watch the door to his jail cell slam shut. When they were alone he set Tesla on top of the washing machine and wrinkled his nose in irritation when the cat immediately began pawing at a stack of clean laundry. He supposed he should say goodbye now to the idea of ever being cat hair free again. Not even a lint roller was going to save him from this explosion of puff.

By some merciful twist of fate it only took Itachi a few minutes to set up the food and water dishes in their kitchen and fill the litter box, something he did right outside the door. The sound of him pouring litter just a plank of wood away drove Tesla absolutely mad and set him to scratching at the door until finally Itachi opened it.

“Clearly he’s already decided which of us to attach himself to.”

“Well can you blame him?” Itachi carefully set the box down and buried his fingers in orange fur. “From the sounds of it I was the first person to ever give him a chance. Just look at this face, who could ever help loving a face like this?”

If not for the fact that he was overly aware he was making the exact same expression as the cat, Tobirama would have had some very different answers to that question. Instead he only darkened his scowl and turned away. Stupid animal. As soon as his partner spotted the thing he’d known they would end up taking it home but it was only now hitting him just how sleepless, fur-covered, and lonely his future was looking. The shame was probably the worst part. He was jealous of a cat. A cat. Well, more of an orange monster that was clearly plotting to steal all of Itachi’s time and affection away from him.

Doing his best to consciously smooth his face in to something more neutral and unrelated to cat based jealousy, Tobirama cleared his throat. “Shouldn’t we be showing him his litter box so he knows where it is? That’s supposed to be important.”

“Oh, right, yeah.”

“So maybe you should put him down, then?”

“But listen to him purring…” Itachi gave him a tiny smile that blossomed in to a full grin when he laid his head down against Tesla’s side to listen to his monstrous purrs from up close.

With a huff Tobirama nudged the litter box. “Just put him in it.”

It was already happening. The stupid beast was already stealing Itachi’s best smiles, the really soft ones normally reserved just for him when the two of them were all alone. And he was already feeling stupid for letting it get to him. Tobirama wondered if it would be a little too childish to bury the stupid thing in litter while it was still clean just to have what petty revenge he could; it wasn’t as though Tesla would really understand, after all. Stealing Itachi away wasn’t exactly premeditated.

Nor was it real, the man was still right there and he would no doubt still have a part of his large heart reserved for the one who shared his bed, it was just that Tobirama was already fairly sure their bed had just gained another occupant.

“Come on little one, like this!” Itachi used the litter scoop to dig through it like he was teaching a child something new.

“I think he knows how to bury his own shit,” Tobirama grumbled. “The store said he was box trained.”

“What if this isn’t the brand they used? Change can be confusing for anyone.”

“Oh for- I’m going to make dinner.”

So he did. Tobirama ignored the bemused questions that followed him out in to the hall, calling back over his shoulder that keeping up with Tesla’s explorations was Itachi’s responsibility for now as he himself stomped off to the kitchen while trying not to be obvious about said stomping.

Irritated as he was, he chose not to make anything too complicated for dinner, not wanting to let his distraction affect how well he cared for his beloved partner. He definitely had an advantage in this arena. Tesla was great and all but his paws probably weren’t all that useful in the kitchen - not to mention he would coat anything he touched in long ginger fur. Not very tasty for humans.

Eventually as he went about his business the familiar motions of chopping and stirring and fiddling with their faulty stove dials helped center him, calming the silly emotions he hadn’t been able to help. There was something about the simple domesticity of housework that never failed to bring him back in to himself. Probably because housework didn’t require much of his brainpower and so allowed him plenty of time to work through his thoughts without any expectations or outside pressures. Tobirama opened the dishwasher to pull out his favorite set of miso bowls and admitted silently to himself that he might have overreacted to getting a cat. Sure he usually loved cats and yes he had very much enjoyed having one as a child but he and Itachi had lived alone together for close to a decade at this point, their home had become a place where he knew that the rest of the world could fade away and he could envelope himself in nothing but the quiet man who stole his heart from the very first date. It was a little embarrassing to realize that he’d grown so attached to that concept that even as simple of an addition as a pet could make him feel threatened. Itachi would love him no less. Pay him no less attention. Really there was nothing to worry about.

Almost as though he could sense that a bit of mental peace had been reached, Itachi came wandering in to the room just as Tobirama was pulling down some glasses. He insisted on setting the table, for which Tobirama was grateful, and in only a couple of minutes they were both seated together devouring a simple yet delicious meal. The kitchen was Tobirama’s domain and his talents in that area only grew with each year. On the other hand Itachi hadn’t learned to cook until he was nearly thirty and his talents mostly included bowling water.

When Tesla came wandering in to the room with a plaintive yowl Tobirama found it in himself not to glare at the sight of his partner leaping up immediately to guide him towards the cat dish. He supposed the animal deserved to have dinner as well and they might as well eat at the same time. A small fragment of his mental peace was shattered when Tesla began to eat, however, and he realized the stupid thing snarfed down its food with a litany of disgusting sounds almost like he were gargling it. Just because he accepted that the beast would be living here didn’t mean he had to like the thing.

“Thank you for agreeing to let him come home with us,” Itachi said as he slid back in to his chair. Tobirama grunted. “I can’t imagine how it must have felt to stay in that place for so long with only a tiny cage to live in and never have anyone love him.”

Rather than answer all Tobirama could do was grunt again and stir his miso aimlessly while trying not to feel guilty for fantasizing earlier about tossing the thing out.

Dinner was quick, the clean up after even quicker, and even though it was probably a bad idea Tobirama decided that the rest of the evening would be his own, determined to ignore any shenanigans their new addition might get up to. Several people had told him over the years that he was too uptight. He would show them. Of course he knew how to relax, how to let the small things go. How much damage could one animal do in the short span of a single evening?

After the past couple of hours he already knew the answer to that question; he chose to ignore it.

Never having been a large fan of most popular TV shows, he spent the rest of his evening curled up in one corner of their large couch trying not to leap up and investigate every crash or yowl or quiet scolding word. Listening to his partner follow the cat around while Tesla continued learning this new environment did make him feel slightly guilty. Not guilty enough to actually go help though, not when getting the damn thing had been all Itachi’s idea. Sometimes he could be a nice guy but he certainly wasn’t that nice. Instead he combated his helpful urges by sinking farther and farther in to the cushions with every loud noise until he was all but buried between them and tried his best not to imagine what chaos was being made of his neat and orderly home. Whatever got misplaced he was sure Itachi would at least try to clean it up.

By the time his phone went off to tell him he should probably go to bed - a daily alarm he’d been using since college when his study habits grew wildly unhealthy - his efforts to relax hadn’t been nearly as successful as he would have liked but he wasn’t feeling quite so twisted up in knots as he had been before dinner. Tobirama called a few vague words down the hall to let his partner know he was tucking in for the night, pleased to hear Itachi call back that he would follow in a few minutes. A man of his word, he was in the bedroom getting changed when Tobirama came back out of the bathroom, teeth freshly brushed and flossed.

Since Itachi always took so much longer to perform his nightly ablutions Tobirama had plenty of time to slip under the covers and squirm about to find a comfortable position. He didn’t often move around much in his sleep but the older he got the more prone he was to aching limbs if he didn’t fall asleep in just the right position. Just as Itachi came out and crossed the room to turn out the light Tobirama at last found the perfect spot, spread out on his side just close enough to the center of the bed that when the other man crawled under the sheets he was able to fit himself right in to the cradle of Tobirama’s hips. As much as he liked to pretend that cuddling was something he only did for his partner’s benefit, it did help him sleep most days. Tobirama was grateful that slumber was such a private activity. There was no need for anyone else to know that under his gruff exterior he was nearly as sappy as his older brother.

Like he often did, Tobirama had trouble falling asleep. Listening to the sound of Itachi’s breathing evening out relaxed him, of course, but he still found himself distressingly awake to hear the sound of their bedroom door creaking open ever so slightly. A scowl touched his face when he felt the end of the mattress dip under a tiny weight.

“Do you really have to?” he grumbled under his breath.

As though in answer Tesla gave a low meow and trotted a full circle around the lump their bodies made together under the covers, looking for the perfect spot to lie down. No choice could have been more surprising than the one he went for. Tobirama was left blinking rapidly at the back of Itachi’s head when he felt soft fur press up against his neck; almost immediately his entire frame was practically shaken with the force of Tesla’s raucous purring. He didn’t even like the stupid thing but of course he was the one it wanted to cuddle with as they all slept through their first night together.

That, of course, was when it hit him. He understood at last why his partner had fallen so deeply in love with this creature and why it had been so important that they take him home. If ever there had existed a cat form of Tobirama himself it would be Tesla. Coarse and unrefined, prone to explorations and a curiosity that was never quite sated, he himself was exactly the sort of person many others would pass up without a second thought. He was grumpy, he was cantankerous, and he wasn't much to look at. But at the end of the day when it was only him and the ones he loved Tobirama was as soft as melted butter. If he could purr then he certainly would have every time he fitted himself around Itachi’s warm and welcoming form.

“Alright, fine,” he murmured, shifting so Tesla could curl around his head a little more comfortably. “You can stay. Just to be clear, though, I was still here first. And don’t you forget that.”

He didn’t get much of a reply but he wasn’t really expecting one. Tesla merely continued to purr, Itachi continued to dream, and Tobirama decided that he didn’t mind expanding his family just a little bit. Of all the possible choices for a pet it did warm him inside to know that, in a way, his partner had chosen to fall in love with him all over again.

#rae writes #commission #tobiita #tobirama #itachi #fanfiction

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kevindayprotectionsquad · 4 years

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give us some katelyn/aaron/kevin hc please??

Yo I’m so sorry this is like 3 months late. This has been sitting in my ask box for A Minute because it was just incomplete and I had no motivation to finish it. But I’ve been super productive today so here we are.

They start being A Thing after Kevin is this close (👌) to failing his required science class. He took biology (for non science majors) thinking it would be easy. It wasn’t. Kaitlyn and Aaron happen to see him having a full on breakdown in the library over it and offer to help him study so he can pass. (It was definitely Kaitlyn’s idea.)

When Kevin passes, Aaron just tells him he knew he would. It makes Kevin smile.

Kaitlyn gets excited with him and takes him out for a spa day. They’re hard working student athletes, they deserve a massage and a facial.

Contrary to popular belief, Aaron loves gossip. So does Kaitlyn. One of them always has some Tea. Kevin, however, is never in the loop and never knows what is happening. Kaitlyn takes the time to explain things for him.

Poor Kevin never has a sweater to wear. Aaron and Kaitlyn always take them when he isn’t paying attention. No matter how many he buys, their cold hands are there to steal them.

Aaron teaches Kevin to play Mario Cart, because he’s tired of being beat by Kaitlyn. She’s just So Good. He’s never beaten her, but he beats Kevin every time.

Aaron won’t let Kaitlyn paint his nails, but she can convince Kevin to let her. But only his toes.

On one of their stay at home dates, Kaitlyn buys one of those charcoal peal off masks for them all to do. Kevin and Aaron both think they’re man enough to do a little peal off mask. They’re not. Kaitlyn is dying laughing while watching her boys scream trying to take the mask off. They are SHOOK when she takes hers off without flinching.

Aaron tried to teach Kaitlyn and Kevin to skateboard. Kevin fails miserably and is too terrified to stand on the board without someone to hold onto, but Kaitlyn picks it up pretty easily. Aaron and Kevin both short circuit watching her practice tricks.

They get into a lot of silly arguments about stupid things. Like if ghosts are real or not, or if the world is really going to end in 2012. The arguments can get pretty heated and Kaitlyn usually has to make Kevin and Aaron apologize.

On those days Kevin can barely get out of bed, Kaitlyn and Aaron take turns watch him between classes. Aaron shows him all his favorite movies and makes sure he eats. Kaitlyn takes him to an animal shelter that lets them take a dog out for a day. It doesn’t fix everything, but it helps Kevin knowing they care about.

When Kaitlyn isn’t feeling herself, her boys team up and pamper the hell out of her. They get her her favorite candy and (attempt to) cook her favorite meal. They squish together in her bed and watch her favorite movie. They make her feel safe and warm. She loves her boys a little extra those days.

Aaron is harder to take care of, because he isn’t obvious when he isn’t feeling right and isn’t the type to just tell anyone. Kaitlyn can always tell when he’s extra grumpy. He doesn’t like to be fussed over so Kaitlyn and Kevin subtlety spoil him with cuddles, dinner from his favorite place, and the new video game he’s been wanting.

At the end of every game Kevin picks up Aaron and Kaitlyn in a giant bear hug. Kaitlyn kisses his cheek and Aaron tries to wiggle away every time. Kevin can’t help it.

Despite doing everything together, people just assume Kevin and Kaitlyn are bffs and Aaron just tags along. They don’t mind people thinking that, they like Them being a little secret.

Sorry for posting this is so late, anon. You probably don’t even remember sending this. Hope you like it though :)

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makeitcanoncowards · 5 years

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Castlevania HC’s Fem!Chubby!S/O

REQUEST: This blog is B e a u t i f u l Can I request Castlevania boys with a fem!chubby! s/o?? 😁

PT. 2: Oh, I meant to say WHICH Castlevania boys but I'm stupid haha Alucard, Trevor, Hector, maybe Godbrand/Drac? Thanks!

I am all for this request like give me hugs and worship my chub please! Also, I’m sorry I completely forgot to add Godbrand or Dracula, I was too excited and wanted to get this up asap.

ALUCARD:

-Okay so get this, Alucard just loves your little extra chub.

-You’re so good to snuggle and hold (also be used as a pillow) Like he just loves it.

-He won’t ever admit it to you because he is a gentleman, but totally loves your boobs. (also, a lowkey ass man)

-You’re also usually pretty warm, and since he’s a vampire he doesn’t feel produce his own body heat, so he’ll ask to borrow some of yours every now and then *wink wonk*

-This leads to more cuddling which this boy just craves.

-He was probably slightly touch-starved, especially after his mother was killed, and is desperate for your hugs.

-Loves to lay his head in your lap (thick thighs save lives) and doze off a little while you play with his EXTREMELY SILKY hair (for real dude what’s his secret???)

-You’ll hum songs while you do this and it’s just such a pure moment that Sypha and Trevor are crying in the background

-Okay not really

-But same mood

-If you start to say bad things about yourself or your body he will listen to your rant before looking at you and call you stupid.

-“My stomach juts out, my boobs sag, I just hate my stretch marks, and thighs god - they’re so big! >:(”

-“Y/N, I love you, but you are the stupidest girl alive if you think those things could deter from your beauty. They add to your beauty, my love.”

-Will literally sit for hours and list how beautiful and wonderful you are, from your physical beauty to your inner beauty, this man adores you.

TREVOR:

-This boy loves, loves, LOVES your thighs!

-Like you two can just be sitting down in the castle, or at some random place where you decided to set up camp, and he is always touching you in some way.

-Whether he’s just got a hand on your knee, his head in your lap, having you be the big spoon which turns you basically into a backpack because that man is L A R G E ! Or he’s just sitting there squeezing them because he loves them.

-He will totally admit his love for your boobs though because he does not give a flying fuck, he will tell you everyday if he wants: “Nice tits” Is basically his catchphrase at this point.

-You know those days where you just aren’t feeling your body at the moment (aka me rn) yea well Trevor notices almost immediately.

-He’ll be able to tell when you fold your arms over your stomach, or you refuse to wear a shirt that shows off your killer figure. He’s pretty observant, though sometimes dull, so it’s little things like that that set of flags in his brain that you need extra cuddles and reassurance.

-AKA “Nice tits” x20 with slightly more romance.

-“Y/N, you look beautiful today…”

-“Have I told you how much I absolutely adore you recently? I have? Well let me tell you again…”

-”I would totally bang if we weren’t fighting this giant hoard of demons, babe”

-Will come up behind you and squeeze your hips teasingly because he loves to listen to you squeal/laugh.

-Except once he got elbowed in the nose doing that but y’know.

-Honestly your chub has never been an issue for him, you’re healthy, you’re beautiful, and you put up with his dysfunctional self so all-in-all you’re a godsend.

HECTOR:

-Boy worships you.

-Anytime you wear tight pants or anything that is lowcut, he gets one of those anime nose bleeds and has to excuse himself before you can see.

-Gets super flustered around you constantly because he has to restrain himself from dragging you away so he can have you to himself.

-CUDDLES

-Loves to squish your cheeks together and try to kiss you, he thinks it’s hilarious when you both do it to each other where you look like fish.

-You are always the little spoon because it makes you feel so small, and Hector thinks you look adorable like that.

-He is more obsessed with your hips than anything else, except ass. He is a high key ass man

-High key

-Poor baby doesn’t even know how to act around you sometimes because you’re just there being adorable and he literally doesn’t want to do anything other than sweep you away into some quiet alcove and cuddle (or maybe more whatever you want he listens to you)

-Loves you and your chub, and in all honesty if anyone ever insulted you for it he would probably kill them .

#castlevania hector #castlevania imagines #castlevania #trevor belmont imagine #trevor belmont x reader #castlevania trevor imagine #castlevania trevor belmont #castlevania alucard #castlevania alucard tepes #alucard tepes x reader #alucard x reader #alucard tepes headcanons #trevor Belmont headcanons #Castelvania hector #castlevania hector x reader #castlevania hector imagines #castelvania hector headcanons

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shesquiinnsane-ar · 4 years

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UPDATED BIOS;

As a precursor to this I just thought to add that both Arkham Origins and A Matter of Family have also been edited and updated. Whilst writing new bios I'm also working on editing older bios as some are probably a couple years old and full of typos I never checked. So that's happening too. All new bios will have my new icon form. I'll try and posted whenever I so update bios though so people know. And now, onto the new bio!

BATMAN NINJA;

This verse will typically be used for any anime/manga characters that Harley may interact with as well as those who simply just wish to explore it. Please note that Batman Ninja is a mash of ideas from the Japan studios. There are lots of anime tropes and plot points that need to be simply taken for granted.

Gorilla Grodd used a Quake Engine in Arkham Asylum to send everyone back to Feudal Japan, causing a small distraction that landed Batman in that world two years later.. Two years in the making and Gotham’s villains were taking over as Feudal Lords; Two-Face, Penguin, Poison Ivy, Deathstroke, and the Joker with Harley alongside, where all the Lord’s of their state. The Joker and Harley were considered to be the closest to uniting the kingdom to be the one true King of Japan, the Joker was known to be labeling himself as the Demon King.

The pair first bump into Batman, using Harley disguised as the Joker to tease him as they realize he is now in Feudal Japan. This distraction allowed Joker to engage Batman in a fight, asking Batman to call him Lord Joker as he was believed to be the most powerful man in Japan. After changing into her outfit she met up with the Joker and the Batman after he finished throwing razor-edged fans. To keep the Joker occupied, she poured him a drink so they could instead watch Batman against seven of the Joker’s samurai warriors. As Batman and the warriors fought, Harley asked if they should follow, to which the Joker just sighed with his drink, asking her to simply enjoy the moonlight as they had all the time in the world.

Batman subsequently joined forces with Catwoman as he learned that the secret to going home was in Grodd’s time machine, currently owned by the Joker in his temple. He then learned Catwoman was lucky enough to find Alfred, who was in the Batmobile, and had been maintaining it as best he could for the occasion when Batman was to return. The loud motor roared down the street straight to the temple which Harley overheard, rushing to the Joker to inform him. Pushing open the doors of the temple she shouted at the top of her lungs that Batman was coming. She dropped her knees in front of Joker as she told Joker that Batman was coming in the Batmobile. Trying to demonstrate her point, using a puppet show she told Joker that the Batmobile had passed their gunmen and the canons that were in place to try and hold him back. Then Batman was always so clever with his technology, but Joker believed he was nothing without the Batmobile. Joker demanded Harley activated ‘Arkham Castle’. At first, she protested, after all the castle wasn’t even finished yet, but it had been made for Batman so there wasn’t any time like now to use it. She agreed, and after licking her lips, she clapped with a giggle. Behind the doors that had opened to her command was a piece of the Quake Engine that had been lost to Gorilla Grodd.

With the castle activated, the temple started to rise out of the ground, as Batman was seen approaching the building. It seemed to transform into a mechanically charged robot in the form of the temple. Batman labeled it a form of madness as the left arm of the mech readied a set of giant throwing stars. Each one was thrown at the road in an attempt to stop Batman from reaching them. The three throwing stars narrowly missed the Batmobile as Batman blew up the gate with a rocket launcher extension to the Batmobile. He was storming the gates and the mech tried to squish Batman in the Batmobile as it plucked it from the ground. The Batman escaped, dropping from the wreckage with part of the car that converted into the Batjet. To Joker though, it was a persistent yet predictable move. With Batman locked on the top floor of Arkham Castle, he was trapped by two prongs, the wings severed on the Batjet, leaving Batman in mid-air. That wasn’t the only trick Batman could pull, however, as dropping the wings converted the Batjet into a Batcycle, a motorbike he used to drive along the arm of the fortress straight into the top room.

Harley had fled from the floor to drop a trap on Batman. As the right hand of the fortress came crashing down to the ground Batman had to choose; save a woman and child down below, or finally get the Joker. Batman used the cycle to try and crash to the ground ahead of the hand and managed to fight off Bane to save the poor woman. The woman, however, was no more than Harley Quinn and her mallet. With Batman narrowly escaping being crushed to death she had time to perfectly line up her shot before her mallet hit in straight in the face and sent him flying across the floor. Using a giant slide to get out from the tower, the Joker joined Harley on the ground as they were both laughing. Harley noted that it was typical Bats, as he always fell for the same tricks. Joker continued to taunt Batman, as Harley and a few of his armed guards surrounded the Batman. Joker could only wonder what Batman had in store for a second act as he’d destroyed all of his toys now and there were no friends here to save him. A short and worried shout from Harley seemed to change the tides, however, as she pointed behind the Joker and tried to get his attention. Behind him, a huge colony of Bats seemed to fly toward them. During the flurry, Harley tried her best to swat them away with her mallet but it didn’t seem to do anything. The bats aided the arrival of what Harley could only describe as Ninja Batmen. As quickly as they appeared, they disappeared, taking the Batman with them, and leaving Harley and Joker confused.

On a handmade ship, made in the vision of the Joker, Harley and Joker met with Gorilla Grodd. They stood within the bird’s nest to see as far as they could in case anyone should sneak upon them. Joker told Grodd that he wouldn’t kill him if he handed over the Batman and wanted to see where he was. He quickly made himself known as floatation devices were set up in the water which from the Joker’s viewpoint looked like people. Batman told him he was surrounded but this wasn’t going to over that quickly. With a laugh, Joker admitted that he was surrounded as his samurai warriors appeared firing at sticks of bamboo in the water. Harley came tumbling, laughing as she was firing her gun at whatever she could, hoping to hit a few people on the way down. Then she opted to throw a bomb into the waters, which she knew would cause more damage. Batman seemed to shout out ‘no’ but as Harley hit the deck she laughed, what else was he expecting? They knew he’d have men hiding in the water. As she joined Joker, who opened fire on Batman, Batman told them that maybe he would another time, but right now he had a trick up his sleeve. The tiny boat that Batman and Grodd had arrived on rose up to expose a huge underground deck. Despite looking confused at first, the pair still laughed and Joker claimed they were still doomed, opening firing on them again.

The boat nudged forward, rocking Harley and Joker off balance as the hull of Batman’s ship opened as the Batman Ninja Clan and members of the Batman Family started to attack. Harley was confused, as they’d already killed them all, but the people in the waters were simple decoys to distract them from this new attack. As Harley put the pieces together Catwoman reached out to attack her and the pair started to fight. When swinging her mallet failed to land a hit, Harley took out her gun trying to aim for the Cat, who seemingly didn’t want to be put down. As she continued to fire, Harley was recklessly splintering the boat’s woodwork. She laughed until her bullets ran out which was when Catwoman proceeded to fight back, backflipping over Harley to kick her across her face.

Soon enough the fight was over, and Gorilla Grodd siding with Batman in the hopes of gaining an advantage. Harley and Joker were subsequently tied together around the mast of one of their sails. Batman was happy to disappoint Joker by stooping ‘that low’ and siding with Grodd. But if Grodd had turned on the Joker, then Grodd would also turn against Batman. Joker didn’t have a chance to say anymore as he had been gagged alongside Harley. In Feudal Japan, trust meant nothing as Grodd used his mind control in an attempt to control everyone on board the ship. Or at least he tried to as the Bat Clan had mastered their bodies and their minds and could not be under the influence of Grodd’s mind control. Now everyone had to prepare to be annihilated by Two-Face as bombs destroyed the Joker’s ship. With the boat in flames, they had the chance to escape from their chains and climb back up to the bird’s nest with a barrel containing explosives. The pair laughed, as Joker told Batman he’d see him in hell before Harley lit the fuse and sent the explosive to the deck. After all only Joker could kill the Batman, he couldn’t forgive himself if anyone else had done it. The explosion destroyed the boat and bats left the flaming embers. Supposedly ending the battle.

There were no signs of Joker or Harley after the explosion. Some believed them to be dead or simply gone. In the fields away from the villages a couple had been found. The male donned green hair, the female, blonde. They had seemingly spent years on a field that didn’t seem to grow any crops. A male in a red helmet, Red Hood, was taken for a monk who was traveling through the region and he asked the couple for a glass of water. The green-haired man happily agreed as the blonde woman walked past him to sort out this water. She commented that the traveler must be exhausted as it was a rather hot day after all. As she leaned over the pot to fill his bowl with water the traveler grabbed the blonde, causing her to cry out, telling her to ‘break it’. Helpless, her man told him to stop, as he genuinely had no idea what was going on and why someone would go out of their way to attack his wife. He was threatening for the blonde to show her true face, or else he’d break her arm.

This traveling monk knew the Joker was alive when everyone else had said he was dead but there was a confusion to his face no one could fake. He questioned why the man was insistent on calling him Joker. Kicking the blonde to the floor Red Hood grew more irritated. The green-haired man ran over to his darling feeling threatened and scared. He even questioned the male’s sanity, as none of the situations made any sense. Supposedly that insinuated the man in the red helmet was stupid, as he was expected to believe that the Joker had taken up farming. Harley covered her eyes whimpering as the pair received a beating from the visiting male. They didn’t understand, their confusion was genuine. As he was assaulted the male continued to deny the allegations, and he dropped to his knees as a bamboo barrel was pointed at his head. Gunfire went off but just scraped past the male’s head as they were rescued by a man in a Bat costume. Supposedly they were both here for the same reason, as reports of foreign farmers in the area matched the descriptions of Harley and the Joker had been found but the couple genuinely didn’t remember anything of their past. They had come to Japan to live a peaceful life and had spent time plowing the fields.

As the danger seemed to pass the blonde woman had gotten straight back to work when a miracle appeared before her eyes. It seemed like the pair had waited forever for this moment. She shouted for her honey to come and join her, her voice filled with excitement as there was finally a sprout in their fields. They laughed and embraced as finally, they had gotten somewhere, the blonde calling the green male her puddin’ as they toppled to the floor. Batman had concluded that the couple had at one point been Joker and Harley Quinn but had lost their memories to a point where they were no longer a threat. He promised to keep an eye on them and to take them back when the Quake Engine was fully operational but for now, they were harmless and they just had to let the couple be. Things were not quite so simple, however, as the travelers left the couple laughing their euphoria. The sprout that had finally grown was blowing pollen across the field, and over the couple kneeling next to it. This pollen had been created as a trigger to the couple’s memories. The seemingly harmless duo would now once again become the Joker and Harley Quinn as their memories were restored.

A month later, the Joker and Harley Quinn were ready to make their come back. The Feudal Lords; Two-Face, Penguin, Poison Ivy, and Deathstroke were all manipulated by Gorilla Grodd to develop a mechanical structure each which was far beyond the technologies of Japan at the time. Grodd had been setting up the battlefield to take over and become the one Lord of Japan. As the mechs joined together to become one, the party-crashers made their entrance. No one had known that Joker and Harley had regained their status and now they were ready to make a comeback. Throwing a laughing bomb into the hub of Grodd’s machine, a form of knock out gas was sprayed around the room affecting Grodd and Catwoman who was in the hold at the time. Other identical bombs seemed to explode through the mech as floating above in a hot air balloon donning the Joker’s smile was Harley Quinn and the Joker laughing hysterically and spinning around as they declared themselves back! It was out with the old and in with the new as more bombs were dropped on the battlefield as Harley made sure they knew that there were no exchanges or returns. The color bombs covered the mech as Batgliders identified the couple. Batman couldn’t believe it to be true but Joker greeted him as there was no way you could keep a crazy man down.

The hot balloon crashed through the roof of Grodd’s castle, the same one that had previously been owned by Joker and Harley themselves. he didn’t want to be too late to the party but it seemed he had come at exactly the right time. As Catwoman glared Joker down, she was pushed to the floor as Harley stood on her, whilst wearing a jester hat that mimicked her modern-day attire. She grinned and waved at the pretty kitty. Grodd had taken them by surprise back at the lake in which their ship sank but now it was time for payback. The flower that had triggered their memories, wasn’t too potent yet but Harley admitted that they were thinking of increasing the dosage. The plant had been one Harley had previously taken from Ivy who had the best plants. As the plant seemingly paralyzed Grodd, Harley kicked Catwoman over to join Grodd on the floor before wielding her mallet and taking her place at the Joker’s side with a giggle. Now it was a turn of events Joker intended to take over Grodd’s plan and ejected Grodd and Catwoman from the castle as they were pushed down the slide and sent falling downwards. They were caught by the Bat Clan and carried carefully to the ground as Joker took the central seat and Grodd’s tools to play a few mind games using the mech he had developed.

Activating the full transition, the mechs assembled again. This time, however, the transition seemed more fluid as each of the villains controlled a part of the mech, with Joker’s hot air balloon forming the structure's head. Now they were all serving Lord Joker to take over, and the contraption was better than anything the Joker himself could have created. Chaos ensued as the Bat Clan struggled to withstand the force of the mech and the power it had. He had attacked Gorilla Grodd, injuring him badly. Despite being saved from death, however, there was no telling of his injuries. In return for the said Grodd gave Batman his commanding flute which summoned many monkeys to help the Bat Clan defeat the fortress the Joker was in control of. The monkeys formed a giant structure, a samurai monkey to take down the mechs. In one punch the mech was sent to his needs, which was unexpected but the structure did pick itself back up.

As the Joker controlled the head of the structure, Harley was left to control the main body. Joker suggested cutting down on the monkey business by greeting the guests with a warm kiss. Pushing down on one of her levers, activated a huge central flame thrower but the monkeys seemingly withstood the heat as only their armor was damaged. The flurry of bats at the Bat Clan’s disposal doused the flames as the bats now enclosed the monkey samurai to take on the form of a giant Batman. Harley pushed down on the lever again, at the command of the Joker, as he told the Batman figure to feast on the fire of hell. The flames had no effect on Batman and with a single punch pushed straight through into the head, destroying the Joker's hub and freezing the machine. Batman opted to take Joker alone as each hero took on their villain to destroy the mech section by section. For Harley, this meant facing Catwoman who had in her opinion, chosen the wrong side to play with. In Catwoman’s mind, Harley needed a good ass-kicking after their previous encounter.

As Harley intended to go and help Joker, Catwoman almost whipped her mallet straight out of her hands but Harley bashed it out of the way just in time with a little giggle. Catwoman declared it was time for some girl on girl action as the two began to fight. Harley laughed her way through the hits even jumping with intentions of smashing the cat to the floor. As she looked, Catwoman had disappeared but she smirked, throwing her mallet to her left and striking the feline. Trapping her in her grip, using the mallet to help, Harley told the pretty kitty to take her medicine and say goodnight, before licking the woman’s cheek.

It all seemed to be going well but the monkey army had split, tackling the structure individually to slowly tear it apart piece by piece. As Harley held her grip on Catwoman a shudder throughout the building had caused her to slip, and Catwoman freed herself taking advantage by kicking the jester squarely in the face as she crashed into the wall. Resting her back against the wall Harley tried to catch her breath as she’d been winded by the motions as Catwoman tightly gripped her costume, pulling Harley up by her collar. Catwoman told Harley to keep her tongue to herself as she threw the Jester into the main system causing it to explode and completely crash which was where the Jester remained. Out cold, and hopefully not burnt.

After the fight, the Quake Engine was restored, presumably returning all of the Gotham residents to the present day.

#V; BATMAN NINJA.{mechs and monkeys; just to rule japan}#BIO RELEASE!!!

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