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Chapter Text

"Mei~!"

Mei looks down at her lap, holding the book she was reading up to look at her cute girlfriend laying on her. "Yes, what's-?" Mei's eyes widen, and she snorts. "What are you doing?"

Using her lap as a pillow, Kiana has pulled a portion of Mei's long dark hair over her face, a long strand laying on the space below her nose and above her mouth, almost resembling...

Kiana giggles, grinning madly. "It's a Mei-stache."

Mei lets out a small snort. "Oh. My god." She giggles. "That's horrible." It escalates to a jubilant roar of laughter. "You're horrible."

Kiana smiles. "You know you love me."

Mei kisses her girlfriend. "Yes. Yes I do."

Chapter Text

Deep within the lowest depths of the White Palace, its great king had long passed out from a night of tinkering in his workshop. Of course, one could hardly call his projects "tinkering". Working with Void was never an easy process, even for someone as (regrettably) as experienced as him. 

But to someone who knew nothing of the plight of Hallownest, Wyrm's slumber was almost...peaceful. A single white spot in a workshop of inky black Rpainted a fascinating picture. In fact, some (Root) would have found the Pale King's current appearance to be rather adorable. His little claws serving as a pillow for his head, his tail swishing occasionally as he rested, and the faintest snores could be heard echoing through the workshop. 

"Father."

The Pale King stirs from his slumber, groggily rubbing his eyes as he awakens. "Hm? Root? Its Third Day. Cuddle time is Fourth...SWEET ME!"

The Pale King jumps, startled by the new presence in his workshop, clutching his chest. "Hornet, sweetie...how did you get in here?"

His weaver child stares at him, beady blacks eyes expressionless, like pools of void. Hornet looks at his own cloak, and pulls at it, trying to get his attention. "Father."

"Yes Hornet I'm listening."

Hornet, without warning, shoves something fluffy and red into his face. "I made you sweater."

The Pale King does not fully register Hornet's gift initially, as he is tired and now has a blob of red shoved in his face. But once he's pried the foreign object from him, and opened it up to properly see, the Pale King realizes that yes, Hornet did give him a sweater. 

Its made of silk, like all weaver clothing, but knitted in such a sway that it would cover most of the Pale King's torso, and had patterns not unlike the his own crest. It was actually quite impressive, the king realized upon further observation. Not a single thread was out of place, and he could feel the faint hum of Weaver magic embedded within. A protection charm, perhaps?

"This is very nice," the Pale King complimented his daughter, genuinely impressed. However, the rest of his worries return to him. "But how did you get in here-?"

"SHAW!" Hornet shouts, once again spooking the king as she began running back to the main entrance, crawling on the ceiling like she was hunting something. Most likely? She intended to wake Root and give her a similar gift, if she hadn't already. Although the Pale King was uncertain how a child could create enough silk to cover his significantly larger partner.

The king stared at where Hornet used to be, then at the sweater, and then back at his desk. He reaches for a ink, and scribbles down the words, "Note to self, add more sawblades. Need better security".

The Pale King yawns, and then lies back down to sleep, resting peacefully on his daughter's gift.

Chapter Text

"Why do you think they gave Christ a crown of thorns?" 

Kallen looks up from the flower crown she was making, staring at Otto with her wide and bright blue eyes. "Um...aren't you the genius?"

Otto pouts, "Well I understand the symbolical significance and the allegory. Christ was being sacrificed for the sins of mankind-a martyr for humanity." A scapegoat, the teenager thinks blasphemously. "He was also the king of kings, hence the concept of the crown." He flips through the pages of his bible. "But why would the Romans do that for a heretic? There's no reason to do that for, who was in their eyes, a criminal. You know, the logic behind it?"

Kallen clearly had no idea what he was talking about, muttering "allegory? martyr?" in confused whispers. It was his own fault-he used big words for a twelve year old. "A allegory is a story that can represent something else. Like Christ death and resurrection was an allegory for humanity being forgiven for the first human's sins and now allowed to go to heaven." Not that Otto believed any of that. He'd long begun to suspect that religion was just something the houses used to keep the common people under control. 

But Kallen believed in God, and Otto wouldn't ruin that for her. "A martyr," Otto continued, "Is a person who dies due to their beliefs. Christ is a perfect example of this-he was preaching the word of god, which went against the mainstream, and was betrayed and executed for it. But his faith and devotion was rewarded by his father, and he was resurrected."

Kallen nods, seemingly getting most of what Otto was saying. "But now God is everywhere, and the Romans are long gone."

Kallen always found new ways to impress him. "Huh, I never thought about it that way. But you're not wrong. Public opinion is always subject to change. The great hero could be a villain tomorrow, and a wicked man could become a become a philanthropist in an instant."

"Phila-Than-???"

"Don't think about it too hard."

Kallen stands up, and puts the flower crown on his head. "Well not us! We'll be the same forever!"

Otto touches the crown gently, as to not damage the precious gift. Edelwise is what Kallen had picked today. It was a long lasting flower, so if Otto was careful, he could preserve it so that it would last forever. 

He hope like the flower, Kallen would remain the same, like she claimed. He hoped she would never see the evil of the church, or the sins of their families. He hoped she would be like the mountain valley they were playing in-timeless, and untouched by humanity. 

Kallen flops onto the ground, looking up at the sky. A gentle breeze brushes past them, sending leaves and petals into the vast ether. "...It's not a bad thing, I guess. Being a martyr. Dad was a martyr."

"But Sir Francis didn't due for his beliefs," Otto pointed out with a slight panic in his voice. They had killed him, by following him into battle. 

But Kallen couldn't believe that. She couldn't know of sin, of guilt, of debt. 

"He died a hero," Otto attempted to reassure her. He didn't believe it. The Chevalier should have let them die, or fought harder to live. 

"But he died for being a Kaslana-for our house's beliefs," Kallen countered. 

"Every Kaslana Bold Must Live By Their Oath. Purge The Vile Honkai And Smash The False Gods.

Your Sires Sleep In The Fields As Humanity's Brave Shields.

By The Judgement Of Shamash, Kaslana's Die And Never Yield"

It was a speech Otto knew by heart, and despised. It would take Kallen from him, just as it had took Sir Francis from the both of them. 

But Kallen loved the Kaslana Ideal, so what could he say?

Kallen grabs his ankle, causing the the blonde to squeak as Kallen pulls him down so he can lay on the grass with her. Otto is about to protest, until he see the thoughtful, far off look in her eyes. Kallen hardly ever though too hard about things-it was her greatest strength and worst weakness. 

"Otto," she asks him, "Never change, okay? Even if everything else does, don't leave, okay?" 

Otto tilts his head. He would never leave Kallen. And if she wanted, he would remain her genius inventor forever. 

The two children watch the clouds, staying the moment lost to time. 

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Centuries later, Otto Apocalypse would be met with the hallucination of Kallen wearing a crown of thorns, not unlike the Holy Son that Otto had long stopped believing in. The flower crown of his childhood had long since rotted, and the mountain valley had become a parking lot. Kallen never saved the world, and Otto had made it worse.

And Otto had keep his promise to Kallen, unchanging even after all these years. 

And not once was Otto ever a constant in the Holy Maid's life-the truth intent of her words her realize far too late. 

Chapter Text

What does one see when they stare into the Abyss?

What do you do when you are faced with great evil?

What can you say against the tides of death?

If sinners are born only to sin, does redemption stand a chance? If humans are only capable of destruction, how can creation be possible? If all beings hate, what place does love have-?

The lights the kitchen of the Imperial Library flash on, earning hisses from the two sole occupants. Tokuda Shuusei stands in the doorway, confused and too tired to be dealing with whatever the heck this was. "Dazai, Akutagawa, what the hell are you doing? It's four in the morning?!"

His two fellow writers blink tiredly at him, having obviously been standing in the kitchen for several hours. Akutagawa was wearing his usual sleeping yukata, and was, as usual, smoking. Dazai, however, had opted for a simple tee green shirt and shorts, with the shirt having the English phrase "brat". Shuusei was decently certain someone had given it as a gift to him, and had somehow managed to convince him it meant something other than the obvious. 

Akutagawa took a puff of his cigarette. "Staring into the abyss."

Dazai nods. "Yeah. What Sensei said!" 

Dazai looks so proud of himself for agreeing with Akutagawa that in Shuusei's sleep deprived state he just wants to smack him. Just to see what the little shit would do. He knew he was responsible for this, somehow.

Shuusei pinched the bridge of his nose. "And what is the abyss in this context."

The redhead fool point behind him. "Ango's coffee."

Yep, it was Dazai. Or, it was one of Dazai's questionable companions. Shuusei should have known Ango was involved. His cooking had a fifty fifty chance of taking you to heaven...or sending you to hell. 

"Akutagawa-sensei was having trouble writing a particularly dark scene, so I said, "why not look at Ango's cooking? Nothing darker than that." The nervous chuckle Dazai lets out indicates that he had clearly said it as a joke and Akutagawa had taken it literally. "But loe and behold! Ango made coffee!" He looks back at the coffee pot. "It is something..."

Curious, Shuusei approaches, looking past the two to observe the infamous coffee...and yeah, it was something. Dark and murky, like the ink that fell from Taints. The pot exhibited a foul odor, and emitted a purple miasma. Shuusei was decently certain he saw something move in it. 

Dazai continues to stare at the pot, mesmerized. "It's so gross...but you can't look away, you know?"

Shuusei did know, and agreed. It was a fascinating liquid. If you looked carefully, you could see the faint color differentiations in the muk-greens, purples, blues-and how it would bubble under the low heat. There was something oddly beautiful about it. 

Akutagawa nods, taking another sip of his coffee...

Shuusei's brain does a double take. He turns to stare at his taller junior, who smiles serenely, like he wasn't a complicate idiot. He then whips his head around to study Dazai, who, behind him on the counter, as an empty mug next to him. "...Did you two drink it?"

"Obviously," Akutagawa says a matter a factly. "In order to understand the dark, you must drink of it."

"And if Akutagawa-sensei drinks some, I have to to!" Dazai declares happily, puffing out his chest. Akutagawa smiles at the action. 

Shuusei's mouth hangs open like a dead fish's, his eye twitching at the sheer stupidity of his collegues. "Throw up," he orders them. 

Akutagawa and Dazai exchange a glance, before turning back to Shuusei. "Huh?" Dazai asks. 

Shuusei attacks, reaching into Dazai's mouth, much to the latter's protest. "Throw up!"

Dazai begins to squirm, shouting madly. Akutagawa watches on, intrigued, and is about to drink more of the caffeinated poison, only for Shuusei to kick it with his foot out of his hands. "Hey! I was drinking that!" Akutagawa protests. 

Shuusei tries to shove his fingers into the redheads mouth to get him to vomit. "RANPO!" He shouts. 

Out of nowhere, Edogawaw Ranpo descends from the vents in the ceiling, landing on Akutagawa's shoulders, wrapping his legs around his torso, and mimicking Shuusei's action, resulting four people screaming instead of one, and waking the rest of the library.

--

The Chief Librarian stares down Shuusei, Ranpo, Akutagawa, and Dazai, with a disappointed yet absolutely dumbfounded expression. He purses his lips, and asks, "So how did you know Edogawa-san was in the vents?"

"I didn't. I just assumed he was doing something weird in the middle of the night, and he's hear me when I called him."

"It's true!" Ranpo confirmed with a cheerful grin. Akutagawa and Dazai glare at him. 

The Chief Librarian puts his head in his hands. Next to him, Ao looks up from his clipboard and asks, "Should I make another Safety video?"

The older man nods sadly. 

Dazai turns to Akutagawa, overjoyed. "Sensei! That'll be the third video we'll be in together this month!"

Akutagawa smiles and the two exchange a high-five. Shuusei groans. "The library has suffered since you two started to get along."

Chapter Text

The Christmas of 200X was by far the best one yet, from Tenna's perspective. All of the two families were gathered in the Dreemur household, celebrating the cherished holiday...with the Holidays!

Mike would love that. 

In the kitchen, Rudy and Toriel were in the process of baking Christmas cookies shaped like gingerbread monsters. Tenna did not have the ability to smell, but if the baking shows Toriel had been binging in preparation were any indicator, they were going to be utterly delicious. 

Carol and Asgore appeared to be trying to figure out how to set up a train display, and it did not seem to be going well. Asgore had managed to tangle the tracks into his horns, and Carole looked to be this close to smashing the box it came in. Kris and Noelle were watching with curious eyes as their respective parents were in the process of losing the fight against a train set. Kris has also seemingly snatched some cookie dough from the kitchen without their mother's knowledge. Oh dear, that was most certainly going to make them sick. Perhaps he could...

Tenna, acting quickly, changed the channel from the holiday music channel to the hard metal station-a favorite of the eldest Holiday-catching Toriel's attention. "Dess, what did I say about playing that-KRIS!" 

Kris pauses mid lick, their wide eyes visible even from under their messy bangs. Asgore turns to chastise them as well. "Kiddo, you can't eat that. It's bad for you."

In response, Kris starts shoving more cookie dough into their mouth, like a panicked animal about to be caught. Noelle shrieks, and Asgore and Toriel rush over to stop their child. Rudy, unbeknownst to Toriel, also starts trying to eat the raw cookie dough. Carol rubs her hands across her face as Kris screams in protest once Toriel and Asgore start trying to take the dough from them, which was easier said than done, as Kris has managed to shove an absurd amount into their pant's pockets. 

Well, Tenna thought to himself, that didn't go as expected. But in the very least, Toriel and Asgore were now paying attention to Kris, so the child couldn't hurt themselves or get sick. 

But speaking of eldest...where had Asriel and Dess gone?

Tenna feels around the electric lines of the house and...there! The teenage monsters had set up a smaller tv upstairs. Tenna sneaks a peak on the two. 

Once upstairs, Tenna could see December Holiday standing in front of the junky tv the two had found, fiddling with the antenna-tickling Tenna. 

"Almost there..." Dess muttered before straightening up to stare at her work. "Okay, this should do."

From his bed, Asriel flips through multiple different horror movie dvds, each with a more gruesome cover than the last. "I got The Nightmare After Christmas, Amalgams 3, Another Horror Tale..."

Dess snapped her fingers, "Did you grab Jackenstein 4 from the church?"

Asriel holds up a dvd with a pumpkin on the cover. "Obviously."

Dess lets out a haughty laugh and Asriel throws it to her so that she can stick the disk into the dvd player. Asriel smirks proudly as she comes back to hop onto the spot next to him. "Hey?! I said I'd deliver, didn't I?" Asriel asks her, arms crossed, yet smiling. 

Dess playfully hits him on the shoulder. "Hell yeah you did. And you said you managed to distract your parents lone enough for it to finish?"

Asriel nodded. "I let Kris steal some cookie dough. I nuked it in the microwave ahead of time so they wouldn't get sick...but Mom and Dad don't know that."

Dess stops mid action of pulling out a cigarette from her leather jacket pocket. She raises an eyebrow. "Who are you, and what have you done with Asriel?"

Asriel laughs nervously. "Hey! We're going off to college in a couple years. I need to toughen up!"

Dess offers her cigarette, which Asreil accepts. He stares at the joint, sniffs it, before attempting to take a swig of it...only to cough hysterically almost immediately. Wordlessly, Dess takes the cigarette back, smirking into as she takes a huff. "Never change Azzie." 

On Tenna's screen, a woman is being chased by an unknown monster. Dess watches on, bored. "They really cut the effects budget from the last one didn't they?" When Asriel doesn't respond, Des repeats her sentiment. "Uh, looks cheap, right Azzie?"

Asriel, meanwhile, is cowering under his blanket, paralyzed with fear. 

"Dude!" 

"Just because its bad doesn't mean its any less terrifying!" Asriel insisted. "Plus, it reminds me of what Mr. Boom said."

"Azzie, I don't think he's going to come back from the dead when he dies to haunt all the student who forgot to turn in their homework."

Asriel shakes his head. "No, the first part."

Des blinks. "About?"

Asriel shrugs. "You know." 

The woman on the tv is stabbed. 

"Death."

A terribly acted scream echoes through the bedroom as Dess stares at Asriel with wide blue eyes. Asriel sighs. "You know, my parents are getting older, your parents are getting older, hell we're getting older. Monsters only age when they have kids. One day. we'll have to say goodbye to em for good. College is just the start."

Dess looks down at her hooves, and Tenna grimances. This was a much too deep conversation for Christmas time. But there was little that he could do. He was just a simple TV. 

Luckily, Dess seems to know what to do. "If you could have your dust thrown on anything when you go, what would it be?"

Asriel peaks out from under his blanket, long hears still tangled in it. "Huh?"

Des leans back against the bed. "For me, I bet everyone would expect my guitar or something. But really, I'd want to be laid to rest on hour Christmas tree. Object of everyone's attention, and I would get to come back every year and see my family's happy faces ever time. And they wouldn't be sad, because I would be like that one song! With the snowman!" Dess reaches for her guitar, which was rest against the side of the bedframe, and begins to sing. "Oh, Frosty the snowman, Had to hurry on his way, But he waved goodbye, saying "Don't you cry", I'll be back again someday"." She turns to look back at Asriel, and grins. "See? Cool as candy."

Asriel glances away, bashful. "Well, now you're gonna think mine's stupid."

Dess places a hand on Asriel's shoulder. "Azzie. Nothing you say could be stupider than that time Kris shoved a bunch of markers up nose."

Asriel takes his leg. "Yeah...good point." He throws his hands up into the air. "Fine! A flower!"

Dess smirks. "Azzie, I don't think you'd want your dust mixed in with a cooking ingredient."

The goat monster turned bright red. "Flower! Not Flour! F-L-O-W-E-R! Like what my dad used to grow before he became police chief!" He puts his head in his hand. "Years ago, Mom, Dad, Kris and I went up to the mountains and saw this beautiful flower field with all sorts of yellow blossoms! Dad said back then, "If I died now, I'd be happy". And then mom smack him because it made me and Kris cry. But looking back on it, I could see what he meant. All those amazing flowers, living in nature without any problems...it would sound nice." Asriel turned to Dess, and grinned. "And if I got planted into a pot, then I could be with everyone year round...assuming mom remembered to water me. A bright spot in their lives, like you said."

Dess watches as Asriel as he speaks, focusing on the way the light of the tv reflected in Asriel's dark eyes. Or, at least, that's what Tenna assumed she was doing. December Holiday was something of an enigma to him. But in this moment, this time in space, anyone could see the look of admiration on Dess's face. "...Azzzie...I..."

"DESS! ASRIEL! DINNER IS ABOUT READY!"

Dess's father's shouts snap the two out of their trance. Asriel groans. "They took out Kris faster than I thought. Well, I guess we should get-"

Before Asriel can react, Dess places a simple, chaste kiss on his forehead-in the space between his horns, rendering the goat boy speechless. "Never change Azzie. I mean that. You're wonderful all on your own."

And then, perhaps in an escape, Dess hops out of Asriel's room, making her way back to the kitchen and living room. Tenna cannot see her reaction, but he does catch how Asriel lets out a very dignified squeak, and buries his face in his pillow.

"ASRIEL! IF YOU DO NOT GET YOUR BUT DOWN HERE I'M LETTING KRIS OPEN YOUR PRESENTS!"

His mother's threat shocks Asriel out of his state, and the teenager hurries downstairs, shouting, "I'M HURRYING!"

Tenna loved his family. 

Chapter Text

Hurt. 

Hurt. 

Hurt. 

You had been hurt for long time. 

Hurt when SHE came. 

Hurt when HE sealed. 

Hurt when THEY fell. 

Hurt when YOU born. 

You hurt for long time. You were not supposed to hurt. HE did not want you to hurt. HE thought you would never hurt. 

"No cost too great."

But HE wrong. YOU hurt all time. You no act. You no speak. 

You no scream. 

Body HURT.

Mind HURT. 

Soul HURT. 

You want MOTHER.

You want SISTER.

You want SIBLINGS. 

You want STOP!

STOP! 

STOP!

STOP!

STOP! 

STOP!

STOP!

STOP! HURT! STOP! HURT!

STOP! HURT! STOP! HURT! STOP! HURT! STOP! HURT!

STOP! HURT! STOP! HURT! STOP! HURT! STOP! HURT! STOP! HURT! STOP! HURT! STOP! HURT! STOP! HURT! STOP! HURT! STOP! HURT! STOP! HURT! STOP! HURT! STOP! HURT! STOP! HURT! STOP! HURT! STOP! HURT! STOP! HURT! STOP! HURT!

Sibling. 

Sibling here. 

Sibling in temple. 

Sibling with Pale Nail. 

Sibling with brand. 

HIS brand. 

Sibling come here to stop you. 

Sibling come here to kill YOU. 

Good. 

Hurt will stop. 

SHE will be stopped. 

SHE do only one good thing for YOU. 

Now you may SCREAM. 

Now you may cry out in AGONY.

You may unleash all the RAGE and PAIN you have felt whole LIFE> 

You may take your broken nail and PIERCE the Radiance that has taken over YOUR body. 

And your siblings (Both) may use their needles and nails to PIERCE your BODY and DREAMS. 

So YOU may SLEEP. 

Chapter Text

Welt Joyce can't swim. Never had the chance to learn in his short existence.

Otto Apocalypse can't swim either. Never bothered to learn in his 500 years of existence. 

Why they were at a beach of all places was beyond the understanding of rational people. 

But neither of them were really rational people. A herrscher who fought for humanity and a man who had long hence lost his humanity. Mortal enemies. Two sides of the same coin. Two people who understood nothing about each other. Two people who understood each other more than anyone else in the world.

And now their attention was focused entirely on a tide pool. Pale blue shallows of water hidden among the rocks of the shore, secret oceanic treasures resting within. Bright green kelp swaying calmly. Mussels and barnacles hidden under rocks. The occasional fish swimming around the pool, trapped within until the tides changes. Starfish. Lots of starfish. 

The two were focus on two particular starfish, both missing limbs. One was grandiose, with a multitude of thick limbs, even for sea stars. It's center was brightly colored, which faded into a dark purple as it got close to the tips of the limbs. It's massive, occupying at least a fifth of the tide pool. 

Next to it, sits a much small sea star. Pure cobalt blue, bearing significantly less limbs, and smooth and thin. It's dwarfed by the larger star, but much closer to the typical starfish. 

Waves crash in the distance. 

"Are they dead?" Joyce asks, not looking up from the pool. 

"No," Otto responds. "Starfish don't move a lot. I imagine they're conserving energy to regrow their limbs."

A fish swims over the giant sea star, who care little for it. 

"Rather rude, isn't it?" Joyce remarks. "Would be nice if it gave something else a glance."

Otto lets out a small "hm", acknowledging Joyce's statement, eyes still focused on the starfish.

The larger starfish starts crawling, slow and agonizing to watch, towards the smaller starfish. It latches onto it with its hidden teeth. 

"I heard other starfish will sometimes eat each other," Joyce says, further attempting conversation. "The large one must be going after the little guy."

Once again, Otto gives the bare minimum of response, shrugging as the large star starts ripping off the limbs of the smaller one. Despite the enemy it is up against, the small star starts to fight back. It gripes and grabs at the large star. Its efforts seems futile. 

Waves crash in the distance, but closer this time. 

"I wonder why its bothering going after the little one," Joyce wonders aloud, having accepted Otto wouldn't respond until he wanted to. "There's plenty of other creatures to eat, and would take a lot less effort too. Its just making it harder on itself. To make things even worse, it's going to be all alone now. What as waste."

The large star tears off another limb. 

Waves crash. Water flicks their faces. 

Joyce rests his head on Otto's shoulder. "You're trying very hard to ignore me."

This draws Otto's attention from the starfish, and eyes Joyce with detachment. "...I never needed you."

Joyce glances at Otto, a serene yet oddly smug smile on his face. "Then why did you seek me out?"

With the last of its strength, the blue sea star manages to get a good grip on the large star. The latter tries to resist, but the former hangs on tight, not letting go, and tears off a limb. 

A loud sound echoes from their right, and giant waves crash into them, enveloping them in water, leaving no trace of anything. 

--

Otto Apocalypse awakens with a start, breathing heavily. Waves no longer entrap him body, only his bed sheet. The dark murky depths of the ocean do not blind him, only the darkness of his bedroom in Schicksal Headquarters. Welt Joyce is no longer with him. Otto is alone. 

It was a dream. 

It was all a dream. 

Then why was he so disappointed?

Otto pulls on his hair, breath hitching. He wanted to tear off his skin, rub in until it is raw, soulium be dammed. Anything to get rid of this ache. "What the fuck was that?!"

"Hell if I know?" The Void Archives calls out from its spot on his nightstand table, glowing lightly in the dark-a eyesore Otto couldn't get rid of. "Ha! Your dreams have always been weird, but God this is new." The device laughs at him, mocks him. "You sure know how to pick them. Savior types. Blue eyes. Kicked your ass." A beat as the divine key snarkily adds, "Dead."

Petty and bitter, Otto knocks the Void Archives off the table and onto the floor, not unlike how cat would do to a glass of water it hated. 

Chapter Text

"How did you manage to walk into a wall right in front of you?" The blonde stranger asked Welt. 

Welt doesn't respond, doing everything in his power to not look the merchant in the eyes-two green pools that inevitably led to an abyss. And it was Luocha's fault in the first place he'd ended up in this situation! Welt had gone back to the express to grab something before going back to the Luofu, spotted a familiar blond man talking with Himeko, and then promptly crashed into the stair case. 

Don't look at him like that! It's a very normal reaction! It was a very normal Welt reaction!

The blonde man, now identified as Luocha, doesn't say much else as he continuously heals Welt will holding a glowing golden pendent to his head. Welt was too shocked to say that he had a healing factor himself, and thus didn't need this. It actually made for a very embarrassing picture-Welt, too confused by this stranger's appearance to reject his actions, and Luocha, obviously wondering why his healing wasn't working. 

Eventually, Luocha pockets the pendent in defeat. "Well, I don't understand why I can't heal you, but you don't seem to have any signs of a concussion, so I can say you're in the clear."

Relief flooded Welt. Now he could leave. "Perhaps we're not compatible," he mutters unconsciously and stands up to leave. 

Welt feels his hand get grabbed. Looking down, he sees Luocha staring at him with an intrigued expression. "Well that is an odd way to phrase it."

There was a slight up in Luocha's pitch as he said this, like he was somewhat offended by the notion, which baffled Welt, which he voices. "You sound...put off."

Luocha raises an eyebrow. "Well, who wouldn't be when a stranger says you're incompatible before you've even taken them to dinner."

Welt Yang had this very weird feeling in his chest. It was something of a cross between butterflies and the same feeling you would get when you felt when a lion was hunting you (Weird summer in Africa don't ask). Luocha was staring at him expectantly. Not in a malicious way, Welt did recognize that. But it made him feel very...confused. 

Suddenly, to Welt's surprise, Luocha stands up and hooks his arm with Welt, grinning. He holds his free hand out for Welt to shake. "You can call me Luocha. I do hope I'm not being to forward, but to you enjoy noodles?"

Welt's brain fries from Luocha's offer. "H-Huh-Wha-What do you mean?"

Luocha blinks. "Well, I'm asking you on a date in a very roundabout way?" His grip loosens on Welt's arm. "Unless I'm being "incompatible", like you said."

Now, Welt recognizes, once more, that he has an out here. He can say no, and Luocha will like leave him alone. He would be free. That was the smart thing to do. 

But Luocha was looking at him with those eyes now. They looked sad, disappointed, and...kind of pretty now that Welt was looking at them. 

Bright red, Welt manages to look and away and choked out, "...sure..." as a response. 

Luocha beams, and miraculously, places a quick kiss on Welt's cheek before dashing to the express exit. "I'll pick you up at six," he calls out before leaving. 

And Welt just stands there. Shocked. Motionless in place. Like an idiot. 

Like an idiot in love. 

He then turns to hide in his room-

SMACK!

-Only to crash into the wall again, this time sending him to the floor. Himeko, having watched this entire exchange, gives Welt the side eye while drinking her coffee. 

Luocha peaks his head back through the express door, glancing around until he spots Welt. He turns to Himeko. "Did he seriously-?"

"Yep," The woman responds, "Its a Welt thing."

Chapter Text

"I told you not to catch a Snorlax," the blade haired hobo that called himself her travel companion chided her in a bored manner. "Now look what you've done."

From underneath Freddy, Kiana pokes her head out to flip Blade off. "He just likes cuddles."

"HE'S LIKE A THOUSAND POUNDS!"

"YOU'RE A THOUSAND POUNDS!"

"OBVIOUSLY NOT!"

Blade starts doing the breathing exercises his therapist recommended. Go one a journey, she said. It's a good life experience, she claimed. You'll make friends, she promised. 

Well now Blade was playing babysitter for trust funded heiress. 

His Growlithe, Cream Cheese, nudges his leg, looking up at him expectantly. Clearly, he was concerned by Kiana's situation as well. 

"...What do you want me to do?" He told Cream Cheese. "She's stubborn, and refuses to box him."

Kiana's Dratini, Mochi, slides over to her trainer. She stares at her trainer, and then Freddy, who is snoozing away as if he was not crushing his trainer. "Hi baby," Kiana calls out, "Mommy is in a pickle. If I die, you can go live with Mei. You'll like that. She makes yummy food."

Mochi lets out a sad trill, wrapping herself around her "mother's" free arm. "I-It'll be okay Mochi! Mr.Blade is reliable! He'll get you to Mei! And you'll have Rice Cake with you!"

Some distance away, Kiana's Fidough howls in despair. 

Not far from Rice Cake, a their place leaning against a tree, Ceruledge, Blueberry Pie, gives him the stink eye. She's glaring at him, gesturing with her sword toward Kiana and Freddy. Blade shakes his head. She points more aggressively towards them. Blade gives up. 

He walks over to the hulking beast, and positions himself so his back is against the creature's belly and his hands are placed behind him. Blade then, with great effort, starts pushing. 

Cream Cheese, seeing his trainer struggling, trouts up to Freddy and begins pushing the beast to with his head. 

More Pokemon join them, including Blueberry Pie, Rice Cake, and Pavlova. But even with the efforts of trainer and Pokemon, Freddy does not move and inch. 

Blade steps back, staring at the beast. "Move you oaf!" He shouts, kicking Freddy. 

Blueberry Pie, mimics Blade's action, kicking Freddy with a bit of flame behind it. Rice Cake, Cream Cheese, and Pavolova exchange a glance, and begin using Tackle. 

This results in all present using whatever at their disposal to get Freddy. To. Move. The creature stirs, but its not yet enough. 

Mochi stares at them, sliding off Kiana's arm. She stares at Freddy, and then at the rest of them. She puffs out her chest, and shakes her tail which begins to glow. 

The light catches Blade's eye, and he freezes. He waves his arms about. "Mochi! Don't use Dragon Tail-!"

But its too late. Mochi raises her tail and swings. Sending Freddy, and everyone else in the path of attack, flying. 

--

Blade wakes up, hours later, to Kiana staring at him with concerned eyes. Its take out now, and Blade can see the glow of a campfire beating against Kiana's skin. 

He groans. "How far did she send us this time?"

Kiana chuckles nervously. "You landed in the lake. I had to use the solar powered blow dryer on you."

Blade, somehow, isn't mad. "Figures," he snorts. 

Blade sits up, scanning their camp. All the Pokemon are curled up by the fire, all covered in various bandages and the cores of various berries scattered near them. Noticeably, Freddy is absent. 

Kiana sighs. "Yeah, I think I'm going to send Freddy to stay with my parents. They both have really big Pokemon, so they said they can handle. him."

A wave of relief flood Blade. No more would that glutton haunt him. 

But then Blade sees Kiana with her legs pushed against her chest, her blue eyes focuses on the fire. She looked sad. 

"Hey Blade," Kiana begins sorrowfully, "do you think I'm a bad trainer?"

Blade is taken aback. Kiana did not often asks such heavy-handed questions, much less to him. Usually if she had troubles, she would call her mother, sister, or Mei. Unlike him, who had a habit of burying his emotions. 

"I got stuck under my own Pokemon," Kiana continues, "I didn't realize how much work it would be to care for Freddy, and everyone else got roped in. Now I have to send him away. What if Freddy feels abandoned? And what happens when all my other Pokemon evolve and get bigger? I don't want to just bench them!"

Blade softens. Kiana had been seriously thinking while he was unconscious. It impressed him, frankly. But is also saddened him to see Kiana put herself down. She was such a bright girl, despite her being somewhat of an idiot. 

But Blade also knew she loved her Pokemon. She had gone to care for them herself, and loved battling with them. 

Kiana was a good trainer, even if she didn't believe it. 

Blade places a hand on Kiana's shoulder, snapping the girl out of her thoughts. "Just because you took on more than you could handle, doesn't mean you're a bad trainer," he tells her. "If anything, the fact that you took steps to adjust is a sign that you do care." He laughs, and crosses his arms. "Besides, if you really were a bad trainer, would all your Pokemon try to help you?"

Kiana looks back to the sleeping Mons, staring at them for a good minute. She then turns back to Blade, and grins. "Yeah, you've got a point!"

Blade smiles. "Now go to bed. We need to make the trek to Elysium City to challenge the gym leader."

The white hair girl rolls her eyes. "You're not my dad."

"Oh? Did Siegfried, not, give me the privilege of making sure you don't get yourself killed?"

"Ourgh! You bratty old man!"

Kiana was fun, Blade admitted. A brat, but fun. 

And weren't they both brats in the first place?

Chapter Text

Pom-Pom had a great many jobs on the Astral Express. 

Cooking food for their crewmates, relaying the travel itinerary, making sure the Trailblazer didn't stick their head in an air vent for aeons know reasons. 

But their most recurring task was cleaning. Clearing any tracked in dust a debris that followed people's shoes as they walked, or sweeping up trash that someone may have dropped. It was an important job, if not Pom-Pom's most important job. If trash was allowed to pile up, who knows what could happen to the expressed.

This job became far more relevant after Caelus arrived on the train. 

Furious, Pom-Pom hit the boy's leg with his broom, trying to get him to move. "TRASH IS TRASH! IT DOES NOT BELONG IN THE PARLOR CAR!"

With equal energy, Caelus holds onto the garbage can he had acquired from somewhere with all his might. "TRASH IS BEAUTIFUL! YOU JUST DON'T UNDERSTAND! TELL THEM MOM!"

From her spot of the lounge chair, Himeko looks away, sipping her coffee. Next to her, Welt whistles, staring at his feet. 

"TRAITORS!" 

With renewed vigor, Pom-Pom manages to get a good whack on Caelus's shines. The boy stumbles onto the ground, defeated. Pom-Pom, with a surprising amount of strength for their small size, drags both the trashcan and Caelus out of the parlor car. Himeko and Welt watch on, slightly concerned. "Should I be worried?" Welt asks his friend. 

"Its his own fault. You don't f*** with Pom-Pom's cleaning schedule."

"Fair point."

Overall, a very successful cleaning day. 

Especially when they could rope troublesome Trailblazers into being their assistant. 

Chapter Text

The Hive Knight falls before his queen, collapsing after calling out to her, even in his infected state. The doors to the hall open, and the Knight retracts their Nail. It was over. 

They glance up at the giant corpse a distance away. The queen of this hive had long passed on, and her body did not stir. 

If they could feel relief, they would have. If they had a mouth, they would sigh, releasing their concerns. But no matter. 

It was time to see what lied ahead. 

The small warrior crossed the hall, the golden honey combed walls their only witness as the approach the door. 

Only for it to shut once more. 

The Knight staggers, glancing around. There! The giant hanging body, suspended in honey...its eyes begin to glow once more. 

The room shakes, causing the knight to fall from the force of the quake. 

So. You have defeated my knight. 

I am uncertain if I should thank you for freeing him...or be enraged for slaughtering him. 

That corpse begins to awaken, now alive. It shatters its container, the familiar orange ooze of the infection falling off the queen's form. 

You. Kin of Wyrm and Root. Sibling to Beast's child. 

You carry the Brand of King. If you seek to end this kingdom's agony...

The Knight draws forth their nailing, facing the looming revived body of Queen Vespa. 

Come face me. 

Chapter Text

"Sensei, why did you drag us out here in the middle of summer?"

"Exercise of course! Exercise doesn't just keep the body healthy, it also stimulates the mind for writing!"

"Sensei its 90 degrees out."

--

"I need to start tagging you people."

"Mori can you stop pulling my ear please."

"If you stop getting heatstroke then yes."

Chapter Text

Creige of Greymoor had run is humble inn for several years now. 

BANG! CRASH! SHINK!

Many pilgrims had come to stay during their travels, and he had been happy to house them until they decided to continue their travels. 

"GARUMA!"

But by far, the red cloaked maiden named "Hornet" was his most intriguing customer. 

"SHAW!"

She had arrived first some time ago, resting at the bench and talking with Nuu, another recurring customer. That had not been surprising, as she had said she was heading to the Citadel, and Creige had believed her to be another pilgrim. 

But then she kept coming back. 

RAWWWW!

Recurringly, she would order nectar, rest at the bench, and then head back out, only to come back and order more. Sometimes, she would returned covered in feathers. And other times, she would have maggots attached to her. By all means, it showed how strong she was. And so reliable too! He gave her a task once, and she completed it with flying colors. 

SLICE! SLASH! SHINNING!

And she kept coming back even after arriving at the Citadel. What a wonderful lady! Always a pleasure to be around!

"GIT GUD!"

A loud crash sounds from below him, and the hatch to his cellar bangs. Once. Twice. And on the third, Hornet pops out from his cellar, covered in battle wounds, and red cloaked frayed. She slams his prized vintage nectar on the table, and says, "Sir, you have an ant problem."

And so useful for getting rid of pests!