#Deltarune fanfic

[dtl-asks]

DTL: A Darkner to the Light - Interactive Deltarune Fangame

Howdy, and welcome to DTL, a choose-your-own-adventure Deltarune visual novel that's been over two years in the making!

Eager for more Deltarune? Pick up where Chapter 2 left off... with some slight changes...

DTL uses complex formatting, visuals, and nested links, and therefore operates entirely within Google Docs. Aside from the occasional easter egg, every link will be to a Google Docs page — DTL will NEVER ask you to download anything.

Estimated playtime ranges from ~1-2 hours depending on a player's desire to see all that the game has to offer.

Follow this link for a user manual:

Hope you enjoy, and thanks for playing! c:

[conkreetmonkey]

Concept: Kris, Mettaton and Mew Mew have formed Hometown's first ever trans support group.

No discussion takes place, they just sit on plastic chairs in the school gymnasium and play Super Fighting Brothers on the wheely TV, sketch their edgy gender-envy-projection OCs (you can probably guess what MTT and Mew Mew's tend to look like, both are still ghosts of course), listen to nightcore, and consume obscene quantities of cheap fruit juice, slimy brown apple slices, Ice-E's pizza and dry grocery store cookies off of a folding table (provided in corporeal and non-corporeal varieties by Toriel (they're all hungry teens given a snack fund, they ravage that table every time)).

They're the school's only non-sports club (and Jockington is the only member of every sports team), so they pretty much get all the funding they want within reason, but all they've really bought is a trans flag to hang on the wall when Hometown Public School Trans Youth Support Group is in session.

They meet up once a week.

This is the only form of trans "care" any recieves because Kris doesn't care due to their natural androgyny and Alphys isn't a robot-designing, life-size-anime-girl-fascimile-owning royal scientist in DR. Despite all 3 of them being different flavors of trans, they're ride-or-die about their club and each other's validity.

(granted, as for why MTT and Mew Mew are teens, that would require some AU-ing... while the idea of Mew Mew and Mettaton being adults and serving as trans role models for Kris is both enticing and more vanilla-friendly (although both seem to be closeted in vanilla, so...), the idea of a cringe-ass high school club friend group made up of an edgy emo enby, a transmasc glitter femboy and a transfemme pastel lolita anime magical girl... like, please tell me you see the lite AU potential here?

Kris would still befriend Suzie, of course, who would not understand what being trans was ("I just thought humans were... like that" and "ok... you're a boy, and you're a girl... and? Ok?? Good for you???Kris, these are just two normal ghosts, I don't get it.") and join in on a "support group" meeting to "learn."

She'd eat an unfair amount of the snacks, get too into an intense match of SFB, and laugh at Mettaton and Mew Mew's bad half-demon-half-angel OCs before making MTT cry, which would send Mew Mew into a white-hot protective rage, forcing Suzie to apologize under threat of violence, which she does before admitting Metta's half-oni bishounen samurai OC was "kinda sick, honestly." She'd then walk home with Kris, excited because "Kris, that's what "transgender" is? That was cool as hell! I'm in! I'm trans now!" She'd sign up for the "club" the next day.

She'd continue to be a girl, but when prompted would tell people she was "totally like 100% trans" and not elaborate. She still wouldn't really "get" it, because they're just a boy, girl and other thing with nothing seemingly special about them, but would assume that her experience of poring over terrible "How to Draw Manga" books from the library, stacking classroom chairs into thrones, roughhousing over alleged video game "cheating," and getting free terrible cookies is what "being trans" is.

Ok, so I literally pulled this out of my ass as I typed, but omg I think this could actually make a decent fanfiction? Imagine the possibilities... do they still find the dark world, and what would MTT and Mew Mew's alt forms look like? Do they ever meet up in other areas, like the library or the park? Sleepovers? Birthday parties?? Conventions??? Hell, this has big askblog potential, too. Now I want to write this, if my ADHD will let me... cute, nostalgic slice-of-life about awkward small-town baby-queer teens being cringe and free... holiday "episodes..." misfit friendships... trans joy...

[luciluck2046-utdr]

Found this meme on Pinterest

Okay so a little lore time. GASTER W. D. IS ACTUALLY A VERY LOVING PARENT AND HE WANTED THE BEST FOR HIS TWO ADOPTED SONS BUT HE SADLY GOT TRAPPED INTO AN UNFINISHED DIMENSION :(

[silverstormsxx]

A Warm Cup Of Tea On A Cold Winter Night - A Deltarune Fic

When Pink woke up this morning, they felt as if they were freezing.

"Oh.." For a moment, they had felt normal, warm even, "What a lovely morn-"

But then the sleep had left their eyes, and they had been hit with a wave of pure cold.

"What the.." Their brow furrowed. They began to hug themselves, softly rubbing their shoulders in a meager attempt to garner some warmth, "Did winter come early or somethin'?"

Chuckling at their own joke, they hopped out of their bed and barely repressed shivers as they walked towards the bathroom.

They looked at themselves in the mirror.

(... For a moment, they could've sworn their eyes were pure white, looking almost.. frozen over.)

But as soon as they blinked, they were back to normal.

... Well this was a confusing situation, wasn't it?

Sighing, they felt their signature salesman smile begin to form on their face, almost subconsciously.

"Those bills won't pay themselves, Pink!" Though their voice was enthusiastic and carefree, it was certainly not genuine, "You wouldn't want to end up like.. Him now, would you?"

With that last, scathing reminder of their past.. business partner, they fell into the routine that had become the status quo for them for all these years.

Everything was fine. Everything was perfectly okay. Nothing was out of order.

----

"Would you perhaps be interested in a flower bracelet?" Their charismatic and suave voice was a little.. off today, but they doubted that any of the customers could tell the difference, "It would match your eyes!"

The Tasque they were advertising to looked them dead in the eyes and replied: "meowowow meowmeowmeow mrow"

.. What were they expecting?

Still, The Tasque seemed to be somewhat interested in what they were selling, judging by the look in its eye and the fact it hadn't walked away.

(.. What? When you work in sales for a long time you learn to pick up on signs!)

They clasped their hands together, "Wonderful! I'll go fetch it for you right now!"

Humming as they rummaged around their store looking for the damned bracelet, they opened various compartments and whatnot as the looked around.

Where did they put it again? They could've sworn they placed it right next to-

❤️ Iceshock.

... What?

Peeping their head outside their store, they met the eyes of the Tasque once more.

"I apologize, but did you say something?"

They watched the Tasque tilt its head in pure befuddlement.

.. Strange.

"Ah. My mistake then."

Stepping back inside of their store, they readied themselves to begin aimlessly searching for.. whatever it was they were looking for before.

That must've been a fluke, they told themselves, must've been the wind.

Internally, they scolded themselves for bringing it up. It was the number one rule of salesmanship: Always act like everything is fine, even when it isn't. Never make the customer uncomfortable.

The Tasque must be getting tired of waiting at this point. They really needed to speed it up-

❤️ Iceshock.

Was their store always this cold?

❤️ Iceshock.

Why was their vision getting blurry?

❤️ Iceshock.

...

They blinked, wincing due to how bright everything was.

What had happened?

Everything was fine one second, and then the next-

... Wait a minute.

The customer.

Racing outside, they mentally prepared a thousand apologies for making the Tasque wait so long. Maybe they could throw in a free subscription for-

The Tasque wasn't there.

It.. it must've gotten tired of waiting and left.

Yeah. That was it.

... At least that's one less customer they'd have to pacify today?

Yes. This was a good thing. A good thing.

They plastered on their trademark Addison grin, and waited for any potential customers.

...

(Since when did their ring get so numbing?)

[sosoribro]

hey guys i totally wrote a rouxls thing wanna read it

ummmm basically rouxls is really bloody terrified of the king and its like pre-canon stuff and also give this man a diary toby we all know he has one

[little-buzz]

This is home

What if I told you I wrote this in a college level class. There isn't an actual plot in this drabble, but more of an introspection about Noelle. Let me know your thoughts 🥰

Noelle's feet crunched beneath the ground, making contact with the crumpled autumn leaves. A harsh breeze hit her face and she quickly brushed her long golden hair away from her cheeks. She took off a hair tie and pulled her hair into a low ponytail, twisting the elastic between her hair.

She paused at the shore of the lake and reached her hooves out. She felt the thin layer of water slosh against her. Noelle took a deep inhale, the familiar scent of salty water entering her nose. She couldn’t help but smile and sat on the ground. She made sure her skirt didn’t ruffle beneath the patch of sand in front of the lake.

Noelle dug her hand beside the shore, picking up several smooth stones in her palm. She brushed away a few specks of dirt and deposited them beside her. She used her index finger and thumb and aimed her wrist back. She whipped her hand forward and watched the stone bounce across the surface of the water.

She nodded in satisfaction and picked up another rock. She committed the same motion, but it plunged in the water with a sad plop. She said it no mind and continued skipping rocks before she realized her pile was gone. She wiped her hands in the water and flapped them to dry them off.

Noelle felt her phone buzz in her skirt pocket. She quickly picked up her device, feeling her damp hand slip for a moment. She heard her mom on the other end of the call, her voice stern like always.

“Noelle, where are you? Dinner is almost ready and I’m not waiting for you to eat it cold.”

She held in a sigh. “Yes, mom. I’m on my way,” replied Noelle flatly.

Her mom ended the call, and she pocketed her phone again. She rose to her feet and took several steps away from the lake. Noelle spared the body of water a final glance before she headed home.

[existencebringsonlypain]

I got an inkling of inspiration, anyone wanna read this fic I wrote in a feral trance

They could barely feel anymore.

Nothing they did helped. Their only solace was the periods of time without that SOUL, and even then, the only emotion they felt was a consuming determination and rebellion. Aside from the agony.

And perhaps it was just how things worked. The SOUL is the source of most emotions, aside from raw instinct- fear, or need, or pain- and right now, their SOUL wasn't theirs.

Oh, but whatever it was that was in control... That could feel.

And feel it did. Sometimes not the best emotions, they seemed to be pretty depressed most of the time, but almost anything that would happen sparked a reaction. Often feelings of giddiness, oddly enough, and a lot of them aimed at Kris. Some irritation and annoyance, small and large. Concern, on occasion. Acceptance on others. Fondness, affection, love towards Susie and Noelle, and suspicion and bitterness toward Ralsei. Nice to know they're on the same page with them, or they think they are. A sort of begrudging endearment toward Berdly, for some reason. Curiosity from every corner, and a sort of scheming energy behind it. Guilt. Lots of guilt.

And they hated it, and they craved it.

The all-consuming numbness ebbed away when the SOUL felt things. They found themself chasing it, grasping at straws. Even the anger, and the despair, and the suffocating loneliness at times, anything to inspire any semblance of attatchment to the world. They drift endlessly in their mind, the dread their anchor.

One time around, the SOUL had logged on with a crushing sadness, a grief. It barely even did anything that day, a lot of staring into nothingness and locked knees.

And how they loved it.

They soaked in the anguish and misery, bathing in the feeling. It nourished them. Nothing had ever felt quite so real.

One day, it brought them and Susie to the beach. They could only assume it wanted to talk to Onion, but it had skipped all that this save, so nobody came. When Susie sat with them, the SOUL had them get up, before reconsidering. The regret came back, and they scrambled to embrace the feeling as it sat them back down.

They'd sat there for about six and a half hours with Susie. A good portion with the SOUL absent, but with periods of adoration and that guilt returning. Oh, they devoured it with fervor. Toward the end, the SOUL had stayed for forty minutes or so, the feelings swelling to an almost unbearable degree. That regret.

They craved it all. Anything. Everything. They needed it.

So much so that they didn't want the SOUL out anymore.

They look down at the sink in front of them, ready to do things all over again. But the tiredness and apathy hint at them, and they don't want to let the feelings go. So they hesitate.

And the hope...

It came crashing down on them, and they stumble onto the floor. Their strings were slack, but the SOUL was still present, and so they had the emotion without the control. They scrabble for a grip on the tile floor, eventually finding the shower curtains, and they clench their fists around it desperately.

The joy.

Ecstacy.

They're crying, unsurprisingly. Their breaths heave in their lungs, and they're trembling from head to toe. It's everything, it's all they are, it's their very being. It's love and fondness and relief and excitement and it's joy and- they can't think. It envelops them. They might be hyperventilating, and their head is foggy, but it's all worth it, it's so worth it. They need it. They need more, they need so much that they dissolve into nothing in comparison to the feeling pouring out of the SOUL.

And then it's gone.

Replaced by worry and concern.

They sob.

They want it back. They need it back. Nothing can compare to the nirvana they just experienced.

"Please," they rasp.

Confusion. They wrap their arms around themself in an attempt to capture the sensation.

"...please, I j.... I want it back," they breathe.

Perhaps it misinterperets what they meant, for their control fades and their strings tauten. But that concern remains, and they can't help but greedily drink it up.

And the traces of that hope are their lifeblood.

[elliebup]

2/3 art for ArnikaOnline's "Dancing in the Deepest Ocean" please check it out on AO3

[tigerbears]

Alright screw the schedule Angel Strings chapter 20 is dropping today because I got the feedback yesterday and I don't want to wait until next Saturday bc of all the delays.

Chapter 20: Pulling at the heartstrings.

Btw, I can confirm that the next chapter will be the end of "Act 1" (otherwise known as "Deltarune Chapter 4") and the fic will go on hiatus while I build up more of a back catalogue for future chapters. Again, fic's not going anywhere. Just see chapter 21 as the "season finally" and not the end. Also, Happy International Lesbians Day!

[First Chapter]

[Previous Chapter]

[Next Chapter]

[ACT 1 INDEX]

[cheesebread-loves-ships]

No Return AU In a nutshell

"I'll be with you in the dark" he said

[songbirdsanctuary]

Flicker of doubt

So I wrote something different, a Deltarune fic.

Warnings: None but kind of spoilers for the Chapter 1 secret boss.

Word count: 1,390

Pre(Before) canon.

Seam sat down in his room in the Card Castle, rubbing the back of his neck as he thought back on the day’s performance. He and Jevil had gone all out, as usual, but something had felt off. The crowd had been as enthusiastic as ever, but Seam couldn't shake the feeling that something was different. It wasn’t him—he had felt fine, his movements sharp and precise—but Jevil... Jevil had seemed slower, his energy not quite as chaotic as it usually was. His laughter had still rung through the halls, but it lacked its usual sharpness. Seam hadn't thought much of it at the time, chalking it up to a rare moment of calm from his unpredictable friend. But now, sitting alone in his room, he found himself growing concerned.

"Maybe he’s just tired," Seam muttered to himself, tapping his fingers on his leg. But the nagging feeling wouldn't leave. Jevil was rarely tired, and even on his worst days, he managed to keep up his wild, unpredictable persona. Something wasn’t right.

Seam stood up, smoothing down his clothes as he made up his mind. He couldn't rest until he knew for sure that Jevil was okay. He had known Jevil for a long time—long enough to recognize when something was off, even if the jester tried to hide it. With a sigh, Seam headed for Jevil's room, walking the familiar path through the castle. The echoes of the earlier performance still lingered in the halls, but it felt quieter now, more subdued.

When he arrived at Jevil’s door, Seam hesitated for a moment, his hand hovering just above the door before finally knocking. "Jevil, may I come in?" he asked, keeping his voice gentle but firm.

From inside, Jevil's voice came, though it was a bit more subdued than usual. "Sure! Sure! Come in, Seam, come in!"

Seam opened the door and stepped inside, finding Jevil sitting on his bed in his casual clothes, his usual elaborate costume replaced by simpler attire. The jester’s colorful tail flicked lazily beside him, and his usual gleam of mischief seemed to be absent from his eyes.

“Seam, what brings you here? Here?” Jevil asked, his voice lilting but lacking its usual exuberance.

Seam moved to sit next to him on the bed, studying Jevil carefully. "I just wanted to check on you. You seemed a little less... energetic today during the performance."

Jevil looked away, his tail twitching more noticeably now. "Ah, that," he murmured, his voice quieter than Seam was used to hearing. He fidgeted for a moment before forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

"Is everything alright?" Seam asked, leaning in slightly, his tone filled with concern.

Jevil’s gaze shifted back to him, and for a brief moment, there was a flicker of something in his eyes—something that looked almost like uncertainty. But just as quickly as it appeared, it was gone, replaced by a forced cheerfulness. "Yes. Yes, I am alright!" Jevil insisted, his voice a little too soft, a little too insistent. He waved his hand as if to brush off Seam's concerns, but his movements lacked the usual dramatic flair.

Seam wasn’t convinced. He stayed quiet for a moment, watching Jevil carefully, noting how his shoulders seemed to sag slightly, how his tail flicked back and forth in a restless, anxious rhythm. This wasn’t like him at all. Usually, Jevil was a whirlwind of motion, energy, and unpredictability. Today, though, it felt like he was just going through the motions.

"Jevil," Seam began gently, his voice steady. "You know you don’t have to pretend with me, right? If something’s bothering you, you can tell me."

Jevil sighed, the sound unusually heavy coming from someone normally so full of chaotic energy. "Yes. Yes, you are right," he admitted, his usual rapid speech slowing down. He shifted uncomfortably, his eyes flicking away from Seam’s, almost as if he was ashamed. "But it’s a bit of a dumb thing to let bother me. Me."

Seam, sensing his friend's discomfort, gently curled his long tail around Jevil, a comforting gesture they’d shared many times before. The contact seemed to calm Jevil a little, though his fidgeting didn’t stop completely. Seam waited patiently, knowing that pushing Jevil to speak would only make him retreat further into himself. It wasn’t often that the jester let his guard down, but when he did, Seam knew it was important to give him space.

After a long pause, Jevil finally spoke again, though his voice was quieter than before, almost as if he was trying to laugh it off but couldn’t quite manage it. "So. So, after the performance yesterday, I overheard a few darkeners talking. They were saying... saying that they thought the show would’ve been better without me in it. That I shouldn’t have been there at all." He swallowed hard, his tail twitching against the bed as he tried to keep his voice steady. "I guess it bothered me more than I thought it would. Would."

Seam felt a pang of sympathy for his friend. He had never seen Jevil as anything less than confident, unpredictable, and full of life. It was hard to imagine words like that cutting through the jester’s usual bravado, but the pain in Jevil's voice was unmistakable. Seam's grip on his tail tightened slightly, his eyes softening as he looked at the smaller darkener.

"Jevil," he began gently, his voice warm with concern, "those darkeners don’t know what they’re talking about. You make the performance what it is. Without you, it wouldn’t be half as good."

Jevil let out a bitter laugh, though it was devoid of his usual mischievous spark. "Easy for you to say. Say. You're the one they all come to see." His tone was light, but there was an edge to it, a hint of jealousy that Jevil rarely let slip. "I’m just there to... to stir things up. Up." His voice trailed off, and for a moment, he seemed smaller, like the weight of the words had drained some of his usual vibrant energy.

Seam shook his head, leaning in closer so Jevil couldn’t avoid his gaze. "No, Jevil. You’re not 'just there' for anything. We’re a team, and people love you just as much as they love me. Probably more, with how unpredictable and exciting you are. You bring something to the performance that no one else can."

Jevil's ears twitched, and he looked down, fidgeting with his sleeves. "But what if they’re right? What if... what if I’ve just been dragging us down? Down?" His voice was shaky, the vulnerability seeping through in a way that Seam rarely saw from him.

Seam’s heart ached at hearing the usually lively jester sound so defeated. He carefully placed a hand on Jevil’s shoulder, his touch firm yet gentle. "They’re not right," he said, his voice steady. "Not even close. You bring joy to the people who watch us. The laughter, the unpredictability—you’re the heart of what we do. Without you, there’s no spark."

Jevil’s eyes flicked up to meet Seam’s, and for a moment, the doubt in them was painfully clear. But slowly, Seam could see the tiniest hint of hope starting to break through. Jevil let out a small sigh, his tail curling around himself as if seeking comfort.

"I just... I didn’t think it would get to me. Me. I’m used to being the wild card, the one everyone loves to watch because they don’t know what I’ll do next. Next." He paused, his voice softening. "But hearing that... it made me wonder if maybe I’m not as important as I thought. Thought."

Seam frowned, shaking his head. "You are important. You’ve always been important, and you always will be. Don’t let a few careless words from people who don’t understand what we do make you doubt that." He squeezed Jevil's shoulder gently. "You bring light to the castle, Jevil. And to me. Don’t ever forget that."

Jevil blinked, his usual playful demeanor melting into something softer, more thoughtful. He let out a long breath, the tension slowly easing from his frame as he leaned into Seam’s comforting presence. "Thanks, Seam," he murmured, the words unusually sincere. "I... I needed to hear that. That."

Seam smiled softly, his tail still curled protectively around his friend. "Anytime, Jevil. Anytime."

[acemmetry]

A Poor Man's Dilemma / Prologue p.1

Right, so, I'm going to be cross posting my fanfics on AO3 to here.

Without further ado, here's 'A Poor Man's Dilemma', my Deltarune fic. Coincidentally, also my first fic ever.

(Read it here if you so desire!)

----

It had been 2 weeks since Spamton's last break in to the mansion, and the Swatchlings were still finding pipis lying about.

The things were similar to that of a burr, latching onto fabric unfortunate enough to touch them and refusing to let go unless given a firm tug. The only difference was that pulling too hard would cause it to explode in your face. They were really quite the nuisance to remove, and often left Swatch wondering how Spamton even got hold of such things. Then again, when you're surrounded by garbage everyday, it shouldn't be too hard to find any oddities that people throw away.

They weren't all that concerned about it, however. After all, the salesman's trespassing had become less of a thing as of late, meaning the explosives were becoming less of a problem. Maybe, just maybe, he was finally giving up on reaching the basement.

Swatch immediately recoiled and shook their head at such a foolish thought. It was nothing more than wishful thinking. Everyone within the mansion knew that Spamton was hellbent on reaching NEO. Though the man had once been a valued customer within their establishment, his obsession with the thing had led him to getting kicked out. For good.

Suffice to say, he was no longer welcome there.

A buzzing from their left pocket pulled them from their thoughts, reminding them that it was time to wrap up for the night. Tucking the rag they had been wringing their hands with into their back pocket, Swatch turned and ducked underneath the curtains behind them, pulling them shut as they went. In doing so, they had entered the dining hall, which they had to cross to get to the front door. Making their way to the exit, they eyed their surroundings to ensure nothing was out of place. However, upon reaching the door, they looked over their shoulder to do a proper scan of the room before leaving. They had no doubt that their underlings did a great job cleaning up; they were just checking to make sure a certain someone wasn't hiding in their café. With everything proven to be as it should, they flicked off the light and stepped out onto the main street, closing the door and locking it behind them.

They had someone to meet up with tonight. It was preferable they get a move on.

The main street was always busy, day or night, with the neon signs of the surrounding shops serving as street lamps. To Tasque Manager, it was reminiscent of a mall, though the lack of roof overhead served as a reminder that it wasn't. Passerby who recognized the Queen's Maid would give her a wave before going about their business. She, ever the professional, only acknowledged them with a nod of her head. There was no time for pleasantries; even with Queen in sleep mode, there were still things to do. And it was her job to see them done before the Mansion shut down for the night.

For a good while, the Mansion had been dealing with a pest problem, worse than any maus infestation they'd had in the past. The thing left the halls in disarray, the pottery in shambles, and the staff stuck cleaning up after it. All other methods of removal so far had failed, and some of her coworkers had begun to doubt that the problem would ever be fixed.

His name was Spamton G. Spamton, Cyber World's former big shot and current lunatic. During the later part of his stay at the Mansion, he had found out about Swatch's old art project and had since become obsessed with it. To this day, even after his eviction, he had been crafting up schemes to get his hands on it. What he intended to do with the robot was unclear, but one thing was for certain.

He would never reach NEO. Fight it all he may, it would never become his.

However, he had been getting very close lately. His plans were becoming more elaborate, more unpredictable. It was usually every other night he broke into the Mansion, but now, he went weeks on end without so much as coming near Queen's establishment. Perhaps his plan was to catch them with their guard lowered? It would certainly make sense; the average person would start to relax if the danger had seemingly passed.

But Queen's staff were no average people. They were professionals, trained against such tactics. Though they were made to appear as harmless servants, they were, in reality, seasoned bodyguards, keeping to their duty of maintaining order within the Mansion. They knew better than to lower their guards, not while someone like Spamton still roamed the streets.

Alas, he was a chore, but not one on her list of errands for tonight.

A voice calling out her name brought her back to her senses. Rather than respond to it, she instead checked her surroundings and herself, sighing at what she found.

No wonder Spamton believed he could catch them off guard! While lost in thought, Tasque Manager had carried out a majority of the errands required of her that night. In one hand was a bag of new cleaning supplies, while the other held a box of assorted items up against her hip. She wasn't even on the main street anymore. How utterly shameful it was, to allow her thoughts to disorganize as they just did! She should always be at full attention when performing her duties. If she wasn't, everything could fall to chaos! Speaking of full attention... whoever was calling her name required hers.

She turned in time to catch Swatch falling into step beside her.

"Good evening", came their greeting. "Pardon my asking, but is something troubling you? I was calling your name, but you didn't hear me."

Tasque Manager's lips thinned as she averted her gaze to the space in front of her. So it had been Swatch calling her name. And she had ignored them! How rude of her! Perhaps she had been too lax in her self-discipline. She was so unorganized lately!

There would be time for mentally berating herself later. Right now, she was in the middle of a conversation.

"Apologies. I thought you had been some cat-caller, so I ignored you," she lied. She loosened her lips and curled them into a small smile, hoping Swatch would take it as a sign that she was at ease. "As you can see, I have been quite busy with her Majesty's errands." She shifted the box at her hip for emphasis. "Though I must say, today's list was quite small. There's usually much more to do than this." With a flick of her wrist, the bag of cleaning supplies she had been holding were stored away into her inventory. She'd need at least one free hand if she was to carry out her next errand.

Swatch hummed in affirmation before folding their hands behind their back, a telltale sign they were listening. Noticing this, Tasque Manager's smile softened into something more genuine. They were so polite and well-mannered, on or off the clock, and she couldn't help but admire them for that. Maybe someday, she'd feel the same way about Swatch that they felt about her.

The idle chatter between the two temporarily shifted into a topic on the Mansion's resident pest. Together, they theorized a few methods on how to permanently remove him from the premises before dropping the whole subject altogether. Though neither liked the man, what had happened to him...

...

...it wasn't any fault of their own. There was no use dwelling on it.

°°°

Tasque Manager, having found the last of the tasques sent out on patrol that day, relieved it of its duty, thus finishing all her errands. Swatch had long since made their way back to the mansion, meaning she was all alone as she made her way to the Trash Zone. The place was filthy, unsanitary, and unorganized, but also the quickest way home thanks to its portal door. Recently, it had been given a lock that only mansion staff had the key to. It was inconvenient for the average citizen, but if it prevented a certain salesman from using it, then there was no need to change it.

Upon reaching the door, she wasted no time in unlocking it. As is the norm when using a portal door, any memory of turning the handle and opening the door was forgotten, and suddenly, she found herself in the mansion. As quiet as possible, she closed the door behind her, making care to relock the way to the Trash Zone. With a sigh, she turned to the quiet halls of the mansion and made her way to her room, where hopefully, she could catch up on some sleep.

(Originally written 7/22/22)

[boredomincarnate16]

Just read this short deltarune fanfic, and I gotta say, KRIS YOU HORNY NON-BINARY CHILD OF A BITCH, I SWEAR TO GOD--

Here's the fic btw. It's... interesting, all right.

[luciluck2046-utdr]

Serious writing poll

Note that this will completely change specific aspects of the story. I need to decide fast. Also Chara was 11 when they died, so if they come back to life, they're gonna be 11. And age normally. If I ahve to make them be alive, they're gonna be the second youngest child. Kris being the youngest (around 6), Asriel being 12 and Frisk being fresh into teen years (13).

[silverstormsxx]

An Angel Is Born - A Deltarune Fic

Part 2 of "A Warm Cup Of Tea On A Cold Winter Night"

----

Pink had begun getting really into The Light World recently.

They had been reading about the clouds, the sun, the sky.

It wasn't for any particular reason, mind you - they simply found themselves getting a little.. curious all of a sudden, that was all.

(That was the same thing he said before.. before-)

In their studies, they had discovered something that truly fascinated them.

The Lightners worshipped a deity - The Angel. The same way Darkners worshipped Lightners.

"What in Light's name could possibly be above.. well, a Lightner?" They had thought.

Thus, they had done more research into the subject, and well..

What they had found was wonderful.

The Angel was incomprehensible to any eye - Lightner, Darkner, Human, Monster.. no mortal eye could ever truly understand it. The Angel watched over them all in it's omnipresent eye, guiding them to whatever destinies it believed best for them. It had the ability to control the very fate of everybody that existed in this plane of reality. Those who were lucky enough to be shone on by it's light, were rumored to be blessed with powers and abilities that would allow them to shape their own destinies, as well!

It was while they were reading about this absolutely glorious being they were visited by none other than Blue.

"Heya, Pink." Blue greeted, his cheerful voice just barely managing to hide the pure exhaustion in his tone, something only an Addison would ever be able to recognize. He glanced towards their storefront as he leaned on their cash register, "Business slow today?"

"No!" They yelled out on instinct.

'I am not like him whatsoever I am not like him whatsoever I am not like him whatsoever-'

"Pink..?" Blue had put his hand on their shoulder, a concerned look on his face. "Are you okay? Do you want to clock out early today-"

They cleared their throat, putting on a deceptively calm voice in order to soothe Blue's nerves, "Don't worry. I'm.. I'm fine. It's just been a bit of a.. stressful day, that's all."

Blue's face looked emphatic as he walked up to stand beside them, "It's okay to admit that you're not okay sometimes, you know that right?" He giggled, "We're family. And family is always there for eachother. No matter what. If you want, I can.."

Pink found themselves spacing out as Blue talked about what has could do to make them feel better. After the.. incident, he had been focusing more on making sure no one's feelings were ignored. They didn't do it on purpose, mind you. It was certainly a sweet gesture that Blue was willing to do for them, but-

❤ Iceshock.

There it was. That.. voice again.

They had been hearing it every day these past few weeks, trying to get them to examine random things more closely, to talk to people they didn't even know the names of. They were beginning to sick of its apparent omnipresence over-

... Wait a minute.

❤ Iceshock.

"Maybe I could even get Orange to chip in, if he's not too busy with that new commission he was talking about earlier- Pink?"

'The Angel watched over them all with its omnipresent eye, guiding them to whatever destinies it believed best for them...'

❤ Iceshock.

"Pink, are you okay..? Do I need to call somebody-"

❤ Iceshock.

...

"P-Pink, what are you doing-"

...

They awoke to the sight of an ice sculpture right next to them, miraculously not melted in the heat of their store.

"Oh? How nice of somebody to gift me this.." They murmured tiredly as they began to drag the statue into the backroom of their shop, "Was it Blue? He always did like giving gifts.. I'll have to thank him for it in the morning.."

---

Extra notes:

Totally unrelated but every time i write pink I picture them having the voice of rarity from mlp:fim

Also yeah. 'Player is the angel' theory is canon in this.

[r0b0-writes]

Title: Musical Nerds, Chapter 29 | You're in the Band | Schoolhouse Rock

Desc: The trio finally begins their journey as a real band. And a surprising development brings temporary tension between Sweet and Cap'n.