#apparently some idiot bastard vaguely hinted at me when talking about how much they think it's stupid anyone hates on this ship | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

trensu · 5 years ago

Text

Episode 19: The One with the Return of the Gay Yearning Death Grip, Now with More Sword!

After enduring EXTREME EMOTIONAL TRAUMA for the last THREE (3) EPISODES IN A ROW, we finally finally get an episode that has some wangxiantics again!!

I mean, they’re still gonna gut us emotionally here too but we can pretend it hurts less because of our brief wangxian moments!!!

Because this is the episode with the BURIAL MOUNDS

*cries*

Alright so golden core transfer Happened.

Review: wwx is now weaponless, penniless, golden core-less, and alone

Except jk, he’s actually surrounded by wen flunkies, so not alone! Worse than alone!!

And we all know our beloved wwx has the survival instincts of a lemming so instead of you know, keeping his mouth shut for once in his life, he decides to mock and insult wen chao and his flunkies.

WC decides to take wwx on Evil Field Trip Part 2: Burial Mounds Edition and has wen zhuliu freaking drop-kick wwx into the cursed place

Oh, hello, Bad CGI, nice to see you again!

And here we have the Return of the Screams bc apparently wwx decided to keep the Screaming Sword of Resentment in his magic pouch??

Good thing he did, i guess?? Bc the Screams summon up some resentful energy that helps him survive the fall

We cut away a moment here to see our beloved wen sibs and we are sad bc they are locked up MOVING ON

Wwx is all alone in this awful place covered in dead things and lacking sunlight, THE EXACT OPPOSITE OF OUR PRECIOUS, LIVELY, SUNSHINE BOY

It’s terrible but we’re getting a piece of wangxian pie here (a tiny one)

So the Screams are still happening, and our wwx is collapsed on the ground not responding to any of them.

They’re all shouting “wei wuxian, wei wuxian”

And still our precious sunshine boy lies there limp and exhausted

BUT SUDDENLY

AMIDST ALL THE SHOUTS

We hear a calm,soothing voice call “wei ying”

Wwx finally moves. He sits up and starts looking around for the source of that voice

BECAUSE THAT WAS LAN ZHAN’S VOICE

THAT WAS LAN ZHAN’S VOICE GENTLY CALLING “WEI YING” THREE TIMES

THREE!!! TIMES!!!!

And it’s so sad bc for a moment there wwx hears the voice and must think that lwj is there with him, there to rescue him!!

But he isn’t *cries* he’s not there and wwx just looks so lost and scared here *cries HARDER*

Instead of lwj, wwx finds the Screaming Sword of Resentment that legit says to him, “wwx, do you want revenge? Let’s be together.”

And, idk guys, swords that talk to you about revenge don’t seem like, the kind of swords you wanna be touching.

But wwx decides to become besties with it, i guess, and grabs it.

The look of triumph on his face after he accepts the swords offer is really cool if you ignore how UTTERLY DISTRESSING the whole situation is

AND HERE’S THE SCENE WHERE LWJ MAKES THE MOST BADASS ENTRANCE.

YOU THOUGHT THE THING WITH THE ROOFTOP BACK IN "THE ONE WITH THE ICONIC REUNION” WAS COOL?? THIS ONE TOPS IT.

To set the scene: we’re at Qishan where Evil Summer School took place and a bunch of wen flunkies are getting drunk and bragging about their evil deeds bc why not

And then we get a shot of white shoes (boots?? Idk) slowly walking up the steps of the evil staircase

And then the camera gives us a shot at the top of the staircase and we see LWJ clad in all white in a bitchin’ new robe, slowly appear into view, rising a little more with each step he takes up the stairs and the wind is providing ambiance by swishing elegantly through his hair

As that is happening, we see the blue flash of power that shows up whenever lwj uses his guqin and it knocks the wen flunkies down on their backs BC FUCK YOU WEN FLUNKIES

We go back to lwj, and get a closer look at his face. His face is blank and hard as a stone, and he keeps going at this unhurried, unbothered pace

Bc he knows

HE KNOWS

He’s gonna get what he wants here and now, one way or another. And what he wants is information about wei ying.

CHILLS, GUYS, THIS SCENE GIVES ME CHILLS IN THE BEST WAY

THE MOST BADASS ENTRANCE IN THE SHOW

I LOVE IT SO MUCH

So after he guqin’s the wen flunkies down (and they start cowering) he towers over them all imperiously

Lwj: Kneel

(so commanding, his tone. I know at least some of you guys Felt Things at that)

(guys, I've been on ao3, I'VE SEEN YOUR TAGS, don’t try to deny it, you kinky bastards)

(It's okay, this is a no judgement zone, and lwj is looking hella sharp in his new outfit, I get it)

Lwj: where is wei ying

(so unyielding, so demanding, but not once does he raise his voice, what a BAMF)

The wen flunkie that lwj had been kinda choking with guqin magic raises his hand (lol, this isn’t a classroom pal)

Lwj: Speak.

And the wen flunkie informs him (and JC, who showed up at some point but whatev) that they dumped WWX in the Burial Mounds

Lwj, our precious darling lwj, we know he doesn’t have the most expressive of faces, right? But the way his face tilts ever so slightly downwards at the news, you can tell, you can tell, that he was hit with that sick, cold, sinking feeling in the stomach

Kneel. Where is Wei Ying. Speak. THAT'S ALL HE SAID IN THE WHOLE SCENE AND YET HE HAD EVERYONE CAPTIVATED (and Thirsty, in some cases, it's all good, it's all good)

After all that awesome, we are forced to watch wc and jj have a domestic spat of some sort AS IF WE’RE SUPPOSED TO CARE. WE’RE GONNA IGNORE IT BC FUCK THOSE GUYS

We’re back at Evil Summer School in Qishan, and we’ve got JC and LWJ doing that thing where they stare manfully at the mid-distance and talk about vaguely Feelings-related Stuff

WuJi starts playing in the background as JC tells LWJ about how WWX was supposed to meet up with him at Yiling and never showed up; i thought he went after you, he says, but maybe the wens really did dump him in the burial mounds

And the music freaking crescendos here bc some lan disciples show up with everyone’s swords but most importantly THEY HAVE SUIBIAN which they bring to lwj directly

Makes you wonder, huh. Why did they bring suibian to lwj when jc, wwx’s brother, was right there??

PROBS BC THE LAN DISCIPLES HAVE BEEN WITH LWJ AND JC THE WHOLE TIME AND REALIZED THAT LWJ IS IN LOVE WITH WWX BC WHY ELSE WOULD HE BE SEARCHING SO OBSESSIVELY

LWJ’s eyes widen just a fraction the minute he sees suibian

HIS SOULMATE’S SWORD

IT’S ALL HE HAS LEFT OF WEI YING RIGHT NOW

JUST LIKE BEFORE WHEN ALL HE HAD LEFT OF HIS HOME WAS BICHEN

STOP LEAVING LWJ WITH JUST SWORDS, LET HIM HAVE HIS LOVED ONES!!!

And god the way he GRIPS it with YEARNING.

All of his motions are still very sedate, but just the microexpressions we’re getting from him change the tone of the movements

Wang yibo - guys, idk much about any of the actors but this guy does a great job. Like, how does he make such emotional expressions when his actual face hardly moves??? WITCHCRAFT, I TELL YOU, WITCHCRAFT

Lwj tries to unsheathe the sword but here we find the Suibian has sealed itself (bc he’s a loyal sword; he aint cheating on his master with no one!)

Lwj: wei ying, where are you

Such quality Lwj Yearning™

And then we get interrupted by Plot Things again, ugh

Blah blah we’re at qinghe blah blah we meet jzx's asshole cousin and hate him blah blah

Lwj and JC show up at qinghe and interrupt jzx’s Disaster Het shenanigans (thank god)

Jiang sibs have a reunion while jzx and lwj stand awkwardly at the side

Lwj sees that display of Emotion and is like, nope, that is Too Much, i’m gonna distract myself by staring at this disembodied head hanging at the entrance

(he’s already in emotional turmoil bc his soulmate is missing, he cannot handle anything more than that!!)

Idk why by jzx decides to join him

Jzx: hey, that’s wwx’s sword! Did you…

Lwj: *Death Grips bichen AND suibian with Extra Yearning™*

Lwj: evil summer school has been burned

SUBTLE CHANGE OF TOPIC THERE, LWJ

Also, c’mon jzx, LWJ IS NOT HERE TO TALK ABOUT OR ACKNOWLEDGE ANY MORE FEELINGS RIGHT NOW OKAY

Jzx goes off to talk about something unimportant and lwj is like phew, dodged a bullet there

Except, JUST KIDDING

Jzx: soooo, where’s wwx? I need to return his sister to him

Lwj: *stoically silent*

Lwj: *refuses to look at jzx*

Lwj: *gives off major I DON’T WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT vibes*

Jzx: *doesn’t take a hint*

Jzx: yeah, so where is he??

READ THE ROOM, JZX

Idiots, we’re surrounded by emotionally incompetent idiots

Lwj doesn’t react until he hears jyl softly gasp when jc updates her and even then, it’s only to just briefly glance in her general direction

OUR BOY IS HURTING, POOR LWJ

And now we’re back to Plot Things

Blah blah battle strategy blah blah nmj looks imposing blah blah baxia does a thing blah blah

Jzx: yeah, so we’re doing great, we just gotta take back gusu and yiling now

Lwj: I volunteer AS TRIBUTE for the mission in Yiling

Jc: dude, SAME, plz red blade master, let us go there

Nmj: uh, idk guys, that’s right next to the wen’s stronghold…

Lwj; red blade master…

Nmj: yeah, okay, fine

Wow, capitulated pretty easily there, pal. Thought you were supposed to be a tough guy, nmj…

We get a jiang sib moment

With soup, ofc

Ooooh, now we get to watch jj have a mental break AND IT’S GLORIOUS

Disembodied eyeballs!! How fun!

And that’s the end of that episode!!

Oh god, i’m so glad we finally got some wangxiantics. Like, not a lot of them, and they didn’t share screentime BUT THEY WERE STILL VERY EMOTIONAL WANGXIANTICS

THEY MISS EACH OTHER SO MUCH *SOBS*

Return to Masterpost

#WangXiantics #wangxian #the untamed #cql

81 notes · View notes

ddproductionsw77 · 4 years ago

Text

Feeling It. Chapter Two.

Fandom: The Beatles

Pairings: (Eventually) Paul McCartney x John Lennon, (Past) Paul McCartney x Jane Asher, (Mentioned) George Harrison x Pattie Boyd, Ringo Starr x Maureen Cox

Characters: Paul McCartney, Mary McCartney, George Harrison, (Mentioned) Pattie Boyd, Ringo Starr, Maureen Cox, Ivan Vaughan

Rating: T (Unless Strong language offends you, then watch out)

Description: Paul is trying his best to raise his daughter, earn a living, and complete his education. John is an unplanned complication.

Author’s Note: This is completely a work of fiction, not meant to offend anyone or imply anything about real people. The song for this chapter is ‘Ain’t No Rest For The Wicked’ by Cage The Elephant

___________________________________________________________

John

“John!” A voice yelled, accompanied by a hard smack on his bedroom door, “Get up, you lazy bugger! Nearly 2 in the afternoon, Jesus!”

Somewhere beside him, John felt another body stirring among his sheets. He turned his head and cracked his eyes open to a head of long, curly blond hair and a slender figure. He vaguely recalled the night before, it was just the bird he’d managed to tempt home.

The girl groaned, pushing herself up, “Is it really two already?”

John blinked and looked at his alarm clock across from her, “Uh, quarter till?”

“Shit,” The blond hissed, throwing herself from the bed to begin gathering and throwing on her discarded clothes. “I missed my first two classes!”

Huh, she was in school still... John briefly wondered what she was studying, what she wanted to do with her future? And then his mind turned to his nicotine craving and he remembered that he didn’t care... would she think he cared? Fuck, he hoped not. Emotional birds were a drag to deal with on top of a hangover.

He busied himself with sitting up and lighting a cigarette, trying to sift through his memories for the girl’s name and praying she wouldn’t try to talk to him too much. The only girl he didn’t really mind morning-after chats with was not the girl in front of him. His chest clenched a just a second in something similar to guilty before he blow if off with an exhale of smoke. That girl, the somewhat special one, couldn’t get hurt if she never found out.

Looking at this girl in the morning light, with her make up smudged, hair knotted in the back and a pinched face, John was not all that impressed with himself. He’d pulled much better. Hell, Cynthia was prettier than this bird and Cyn was about as plain as paper to him these days. John thought for a moment that he should have just gone ‘round her place last night. A good boyfriend would have. But he’s wasn’t good at really anything, ‘sept maybe guitar and Cynthia bloody well knew that, didn’t she?

The bird that was not Cynthia glanced up at him to give a coy smile, “So, you’ll call me, right?”

Fuck no, he thought but had the grace to not say aloud. Instead, John cleared his throat and shrugged, “Look, uh...”

“Holly,” The blond supplied, her smile dropping.

Unfazed, he continued, “Holly, me girlfriend might not like that, so probably not.”

Holly looked stricken, “You... you have a girlfriend?”

Before John could answer, there was another slam on his door.

“Bleedin’ hell, Lennon!”

“Oh, fuck off, Sutcliffe!” John yelled back before taking a drag from his cigarette. He turned back to Holly and just shrugged. Yeah, technically he had a girl already. One that was easier to put up with than most others and yet still never enough for John, hence all the other temporary ones.

Scoffing in disgust, Holly rolled her eyes and finished zipping up her dress, picking up her heels, “You’re a swine!”

John honestly couldn’t agree more.

He gave her an apologetic smile and another small shrug. Holly huffed and threw the door open, shoving past Stuart on the other side. The lad watched her go before spinning ‘round to look at his best mate while leaning on the doorframe.

“Fun night, then?”

“It was alright,” John chuckled, getting up and throwing on a t-shirt to pair with his boxers and socks. “Had better.”

“Speaking of fun nights, we still going out tonight?” Stuart asked. “Because I thought you worked?”

“And?” John laughed, stubbing out his cigarette. “Only get the free booze if I’m behind the bar, y’know?”

“I highly doubt that’s the pub’s policy, Johnny,” Stuart commented with a sigh, “Cynthia’s meeting us there, right?”

John nodded and flicked his hair out of his eyes, purposely playing ignorant to Stu’s pointed question as he moved past the other lad toward the kitchen for a drink of water. His mouth tasted like whiskey still and was drier than the Sahara, plus his head was pounding something fierce, “Said she was, least.”

Stuart grinned, “Ah, that’s great! Cyn’s alright!”

Cynthia was alright, John guessed. She was pretty with a smile that even managed to make his lips curl. Blond these days, too, John’s favorite and much more suiting than her once natural mousy brunette. Some of his mates thought she had horse teeth but John had never noticed. But above all, Cyn wasn’t a complete fucking idiot. She actually had a brain, talking to her never dug under John’s skin the way it did with any other birds. It was this unique quality that had made her the only steady relationship he’d ever even attempted.

Attempted being the key word there, seeing as he hadn’t managed yet to stop himself from continuously stepping out on her.

John simply shrugged, taking a drink of his water. He set the glass down and went about opening cabinets in search of something for his headache.

“Oh, piss off, Lennon,” Stuart laughed, “You don’t suffer fools. Wouldn’t still be shagging her if you didn’t like her.”

“Aw, Stu, I’m touched by you’re assurance in my character so as to not stoop as low as to—“

The other cut John off when a raised hand, “Oh, no, no, no, don’t get me wrong, Johnny. You’d definitely stoop that low— I mean you still do with other girls all the time, don’t you? You’re just smart enough to know Cyn’s a bird worth keeping ‘round.”

John examined his glass of water, having found the pain reliever now in his hand, “So, I’m an bastard... but I’m a cunning one?”

“John Lennon,” Stuart gestured the air like he was seeing some billboard before him on the kitchen cabinets, “Cunning bastard!” Dropping his arms, he flashed his best friend a grin, “Got a certain ring to it, doesn’t it?”

John laughed, gulping down the pills and downing the rest of his glass, “Piss off, Stu.” He flickered his eyes away, avoiding his friend’s gaze, “And just so ye know, I don’t like Cynthia. I love her.”

“Sure ye do, Johnny.” Stuart sighed, suddenly sobering. Neither of them spoke the rest of the sentence but they both knew...

Sure ye do, Johnny, just not enough to try and treat her right.

John sighed and began to bounce on his feet to rid himself of the uncomfortable energy rising up in his chest. “Got hours before we got to go anywhere, though, so I’ll be in me room if that’s already with you, mate?”

Stu rolled his eyes, “Yeah, whatever, Johnny.”

Once back in his bedroom, alone in his safe space, John sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He hated feeling... heavy— he refused to call it what it really was: guilt. And he always did when Cynthia was brought up.

He loved her... he did! He just got so fucking bored with her sometimes! He longed for excitement, for the thrill of the flirtation, the constant tug of war, the competition. Cynthia didn’t give him any of that anymore.

John could remember when she’d first caught his eye, over two years ago sitting up straight as a ruler in the row in front of him in one of his various art classes. He liked art but had majored in Political Science for Mimi; hadn’t stopped him from taking a few electives though. Cynthia had been a year ahead, older and wiser and completely uninterested in his immature games. Maybe that had been her appeal, her disinterest and indifference. She’d been work then, hard to get.

She was such a prude, too. That pretty little nose of her’s had always seemed to turn up at the mere sight of him and she’d just rolled her eyes at any of his advances. She’d been engaged to some bloke back in her hometown, some sophisticated git who was just perfect as could be apparently. She’d blatantly told him so when he’d tried asking her out, shutting him down without even a hint of remorse. His pride had been wounded at the time but his want to win her had only grown.

And John was good at the game he played, an expert at the chase, and he’d seen the lingering looks Cynthia still gave him, saw her flush bright red when he gave his attention to other girls and how her lips twitched when he sent a compliment her way. Not long after, word spread around the university that Cynthia Powell had broken off her engagement and was single as could be.

John made sure that wasn’t true for long.

She finally agreed to go out with him to the pub were he worked and the rest was history. Cynthia was the only girl John could stand on a regular basis, the only girl he called his girlfriend, the only girl he kept coming back to. He didn’t really know why, she was just Cyn and he actually wanted to have a claim on her. Being with her wasn’t quite as frustrating as being with others. She had enough of a brain and a bite to be at least a little stimulating.

Still, John knew what people said around them, what they whispered to Cynthia nearly everyday, what they thought.

He’s nothing but trouble.

You deserve better.

He’ll never really be faithful.

And history would prove all them right. He didn’t deserve Cynthia. He wasn’t an idiot, he knew that. He cheated on her, he snapped at her, he treated her like crap most days... but for some reason she stuck around. No one else, besides Mimi, Stu, and Pete, stuck around for John. Fuck, his own mother and father had had little to nothing to do with him since he was just 5— But Cynthia hadn’t left him yet. He was... grateful to her for that. So, John had decided he would keep her for as long as she’d stay; so far that was a bit over 2 years now.

Glancing at his dresser, his dark eyes were drawn to the framed photograph sitting atop it. Cynthia had given it to him on their last anniversary — he’d gotten her a box of condoms. It was a picture of them two of them, sitting side-by-side on the couch in his flat. He was reading, paying her no mind, and she was gazing at him with a small, adoring smile playing on her lips like he was something to be admired and awed by. She looked in love... he looked bored.

Again, he felt heavy and groaned in frustration and he reached out to set the frame face down. He didn’t feel like thinking too much anymore. He wanted to stop thinking.

John sighed and swallowed, going over to pick up his guitar and rid himself of that stupid fucking weight in his chest.

Music had always been John’s escape, even before he could make it. He’d spent hours listening to all the great classics back in his bedroom at Mimi’s growing up. The Isley Brothers, Arthur Alexander, and the greatest of all, Elvis Presley; they were practically gods to him as a boy. He’d practiced till his fingers bleed trying to learn their songs, eventually trying to write his own.

Tuning the guitar, John leaned back again his headboard and began to strum. Strum away all the buzzing, screaming thoughts in his head, calming him mind if only for just a single fucking second. He wished he could share this part of himself, his music, with someone. Wished he could make Cynthia or Stu or anyone, really, understand the way the music felt in his chest, in his blood and his bones.

But that was a connection he’d given up on making a long time ago.

Stu played bass, Pete was alright at percussion and drums, fuck, even Cynthia knew a bit of piano but none of them felt like he did. Music was a lifeline to John. He couldn’t be without it, none of them’d ever gotten that.

Hours later, the boys were dressed and ready to go. The other inhabitants of the flat, another long-time friend, Pete, and Stu’s bitch-of-a-girlfriend, Astrid, had thrown themselves together as well.

Pete had had to style his blond hair three times from John ruffling it each time he’d only just gotten it right and he was wearing a sports jacket, a flannel and jeans. Stuart had put on the clothes Astrid had laid out for him, a navy sweater and tight dark blue jeans. John had rolled his eyes upon seeing Astrid in a matching shade of sequined tank-top and shorts. They were fucking matching these days, God help him.

John himself had simply tossed on the first things he’d found in his dresser that smelled like laundry soap and not sweat. So, basically a plain black t-shirt with a white collar, ripped gray jeans, and his favorite leather jacket with his aviator sunglasses. In his pocket were his Buddy Holly inspired prescriptions for once he got to work.

Emerging from his room, he was assaulted by Pete snatching his shades from his face, “Sun’s down, ye look like an asshole.”

John smirked and plucked the shades back, sliding him back on to his face, “I am an asshole, Pete. Remember?”

The two young men made their way to the living room, purposely shoving and banging into each other just for a laugh. They found Astrid standing on her toes, straightening Stu’s sweater. Her eyes narrowed on John as he enter her field of vision.

“You look homeless,” She commented in her heavy German accent

“And you look easy,” John shot back back only to receive a look of warning from Stuart which he ignored. Stu was his best mate, sure, but he wouldn’t put up with the little blond terror’s bullshit for even him.

Astrid scoffed and upturned her pretty little button nose.

She was fit, sure, with her slender build curved in all the right places, soft features, and pixie cut hair. That part of Stu’s infatuation with her John could understand, but fuck, the personality and attitude on her was the ultimate turn off. Had she been John’s pull, he have kicked her to the curb the next morning, not begged her to come live with him and his mates as Stuart had done.

John supposed that was why Stu had Astrid, who he hardly sent a second a part from, and he had Cyn, who had her own life and priorities that kept her off John’s back. He didn’t see the appeal in all the bullshit people spouted about ‘sharing a life’. Independence got you fucked over a lot less.

“Alright, alright, you two,” Stuart broke in, running his hands down his girlfriend’s arms until he intertwined his fingers with hers. “That’s enough. Let’s just go, yeah?”

Astrid grinned, nodding and pecking his knuckles, John rolled his eyes, and Pete shrugged while rubbing the back of his neck.

Stuart took that as an affirmative.

The pub, called The Cavern, was only two blocks over from the flat. They regularly walked there, all too cheap to pay fare, even on the bus. Astrid got all whiny about the area and how it wasn’t safe for them but it wasn’t like she had much other choice, just as poor as the rest of them. Instead, she just clung to Stuart along the way like a bloody octopus. John and Pete walked ahead of the couple, playfully bantering with one another.

John had been forced to to take his sunglasses off upon stepping into the twilight of outside, being even less able to see than normal. He was feeling bitter as he slide on his prescription lenses, Pete chuckling beside him.

Reaching out, he roughly shoved his mate, “Sod off, Shotton, no one fucking asked you.”

Behind them, Stuart called, “Oi, Johnny, stop being so damn sensitive, would ye? Just glasses, mate!”

John shot him a glare before grabbing Pete’s arm to help him right himself, “Primadonna, you are, son. Toppling like that.”

“Arsehole, you are, John. Shoving people like that.” Pete shot back but there was a grin on his lips. John smirked and any tension instantly defused.

Between Stu and Pete, John could be kept mostly in line. They all knew how easily he could fly off the handle, even John himself knew, so they all worked to make sure the lad wasn’t poked at or prodded too much. John had already spent a few nights in jail for throwing fists around when another drunk at the pub said just the wrong thing and neither Pete nor Stu had the money for bail at the moment.

The only option was just to try and keep Johnny boy out of trouble.

#john x paul #the beatles #john lennon #paul mccartney #mclennon #Feeling it.

1 note · View note

askmicrowaveayem · 7 years ago

Text

MAYEM: Fear & Loathing - Pt.7

[Previous]

[Archive] [Cast]

“Good.” Gaster smiled back at him and wished that he could help somehow, Papyrus that is. He just had to tell himself that this was good too, helping with the core and all.

The two Pap’s were so different it was crazy to ever think the little one would, maybe, somehow, grow up to be just like his. How could that even happen? Maybe it wouldn’t. It wasn’t like this Gaster had grown up to be completely like him.

He was way too damn nice.

It was a little funny how much the other Gaster denied his niceness, to the point where he fully ignored it existed at all. Ah well. Self-loathing did funny things to a skeleton.

Gaster nodded. “He’s definitely improving. Hopefully when things calm down, it’ll be even better, but he’s much better than he was. I was worried he was starting to backslide when he stopped talking again, so… your Papyrus showed up right in time.”

“Maybe there’s a reason for everything.” Gaster said as he pulled out his notepad and flipped to the page with his suggestions on it. “But that would mean there’s a thing such as fate, and I don’t believe in that nonsense.”

“Oh, thank fuck,” Gaster said, heaving out a sigh of relief, “I was worried you were about to start talking about destinies and shit.”

“Fuck that shit.” Gaster cursed, frowning but not looking angry at his twin. Perhaps he was recalling something in his past that made him a little bitter about the whole idea.

“You met someone who was really hardcore about that, huh?” he asked, figuring venting might help.

Gaster opened and closed his mouth a few times. He paused and actually looked around for a moment, as though he expected someone to leap out right from time and space to give him a slap.

“Yeah, actually. Their name was Seer. Or that’s what we called them.”

“‘Them’ as in a group, or one extremely annoying individual?” Gaster asked, listening interestedly.

“One extremely annoying individual. I think. Maybe there’s more of them. I don’t know.” Gaster flung his hands up, as if thinking about it was enough to drive him insane. “They worked as our river person after the war but… ugh.” He shoved his notepad back into himself much more forcefully than he intended.

“During the war they worked was, obviously, the seer for the king. They would predict the outcome of battles and all that nonsense but it was always just vague enough that you couldn’t really tell whether or not they were actually seeing the future or fate or whatever the fuck.” He flung his hands up and began to gesture along with his speech.

“Drove me fucking insane. They hung on their every word. I mean, I do owe them a lot, but… fuck.”

Gaster winced a bit, watching the notepad disappear. He decided not to comment on the ‘owing them a lot’ part, since knowing you owed a lot to someone who you didn’t trust or even like was… never the most fun thing to talk about. But still. “Wow. That, um. Yeah, that sounds awful to listen to all the time.”

“I had to travel with them at one point. Longest weeks of my life.” He sighed, recalling the memory. “They’re… a nice monster, but… jeeze. Everything they do goes against what I believe in.”

There was a pause.

“Somehow they keep finding me too, which is strange. It’s gotta be some sort of magic. That’s the only way I can explain it. A magic very specific to that particular monster. Whatever that monster happens to be.”

“You never saw a monster quite like them?” Gaster asked, curious about that remark in particular.

“I… yeah…” Gaster went deep into thought, a finger tapping his chin. “Sort of like an elemental but… I don’t think they were. It was very disorienting to look at. Like their appearance constantly changed every time you looked away.”

“Maybe cloaking magic? But I’ve never heard of that before.”

Gaster blinked at the description. “That’s… odd, definitely. ...are shapeshifters real in your world, I guess?”

“I’ve certainly never heard of them. Are they here?” He asked, looking up at his double.

Gaster shook his head. “They’re children’s stories. Monsters that can change their shape at will, to… basically anything.”

“That would make the most sense, but…” Gaster just shrugged, “I’ve honestly never heard of it and never met a monster with the same ability. Seer was… very strange.”

“... Which says a lot coming from me, I think.” He chuckled.

After a moment, Gaster grinned. “Maybe you had an early dimensional traveler on your hands.”

Gaster’s eye sockets widened, then narrowed. “Oh that bastard. If they were I will be so pissed.”

Gaster laughed. “Maybe you’ll find out on your trip? Maybe you’ll run into a younger version of them or something. Then you can interrogate them by pretending you know their future. It’ll be fun for the whole family. Fake-out the mystic.”

The doctor’s grin widened at the thought, then fell again as he looked to his counterpart. “Do any of your river people say ‘tra-la-la’ before every other sentence?”

Gaster looked blankly at his counterpart. “....do riverpeople talk?”

He stared at his double for a long while before mumbling ‘shit’ under his breath. “There goes that idea I guess. I was hoping they would be here somehow.”

“Sorry,” Gaster said, “have you asked around in other dimensions about the riverpeople?”

“Nah. I didn’t think of it until you said something. I will next time we jump and I find one.” Gaster shrugged, “Knowing Seer they’ll give me some vague hint or say nothing at all.”

--*****

Gaster nodded. “Still, it’s as good a plan as any.”

He sighed and looked at the ceiling, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah.”

Gaster looked up at the clock at the wall, checking the time. “...it’s getting towards the end of my shift. Want to cut out early and head back to see the boys?”

“Yeah, might as well. I feel we got a lot done today, despite how much time we spent being idiots.” He grinned at his double. “I’ll let you get a headstart. I don’t wanna walk into the apartment before you get there.”

“You mean we spent time not being idiots?” he asked, grinning back. “All right. I’ll meet you there.”

He took a moment to finish backing up before heading out, making sure his double was out of the line of sight of the door before he went.

He jumped a bit when he opened the door and realized there was another monster standing outside it.

They were a waterfall monster, clearly; a sort of fishman with a forked tongue and bright blue skin.

“Hey there, Wingdingss,” they said. “Who you talkin’ to in there?”

“Myself,” Gaster said, face impassive. He pushed by the fish monster, shouldering his way into the hall and locking the door closed behind himself. “Sorry if I bothered you.”

“Ssssee, I thought that at first, but then I remembered you talk to yoursself with your handss,” the fish monster said, following along behind Gaster as he tried to walk down the hall. “And it actually ssounded like a conversation. Sso…. just out of friendly curiosssity I thought I’d ask.”

“I think you’ve imagined things.”

He watched his double stop at the door and instantly tense up, or tensed as much as goo could. His flesh rippled and he bit back the itch of magic at his fingertips, recalling what his twin had said about there being… disagreements in the lab.

Gaster didn’t move until the door was fully closed, quickly forming a pointed bone in his hand and silently walking to stand behind the door as he listened in on the conversation. He moved along the side of the room as the conversation moved, his other hand waving to open up a prompt and keep as much of an eye on what was happening as he could through the wall.

“Sso rude,” the fish monster said, laughing a bit. They seemed fairly carefree as they spoke, but Gaster still didn’t let his guard down, doing his best to appear calm as the other walked behind him. He fought the overwhelming urge to protect his back. “Are you ssure you’re not hiding a third exxperiment in there? Needed one more sspecimen to add to your collection?”

It took all he had to not summon a bone and skewer the fish right there in the hallway.

But he couldn’t. He couldn’t. He couldn’t afford to be the bad guy here.

Sans and Papyrus couldn’t afford for him to be the bad guy.

So he laughed instead. A dead sort of chuckle compared to his real one, but convincing enough. “That’s a nice thought. But no. I think I have enough. Thank you. I should be leaving, now, my shift’s ended. You know how upset they get when we don’t go sleep when we’re supposed to.”

The fish made a face, and Gaster kept walking, trying to outpace them.

Hohohohohoooo boy. Gaster felt his arm shake, the grip on his weapon tightening. This bastard. This bastard.

His eyes went blank as they walked further than the room went and he stopped, standing in the corner and letting his eyes watch his window. He could see the distance each of them was, which hopefully was enough.

Hopefully the fish would have enough sense to let him be.

The fish apparently didn’t like being deflected like that. He stopped following Gaster as closely, but still called out after him, “Whatever you’re doing with thossse weaponsss, you may’ve fooled Asssgore, but we won’t let you get away witth it!”

Gaster waved behind himself, calling, “Yeah, have a good day!” before rounding the corner and breaking into a much quicker walk, reaching the elevator and getting up to the top level and outside the lab as quickly as he could.

Gaster could feel his body start to boil with rage. Figuratively at least.

The window vanished with a wave of his hand and he just… stood there. A part of him, a very large part of him wanted that fish to come back and try to unlock the door.

Come on in.

See what’s inside.

You know you want to.

You know you want this fucking B O͞ ͘N̷ E͢ ͘ ̨S͢ H O V̵ ̸E D ͏ ̡T ̕H R̀ ́O ̡U G H ̡Y͜ ̀O ҉U͏ R̢ ̕Ȩ Y̧ E̢ ̸B A̴ L͟ ̨L.͜

He would probably be even later than he intended getting back to the apartment and he would probably wait an unreasonably long time inside the room, hoping one of those pieces of shit that called themselves a monster would try to come inside and see what exactly his double had been talking to.

The doorknob rattled.

The fish monster had come back.

He muttered under his breath, ‘fucking ssskeleton and hiss lockss,’ twisting the knob one more time.

Gaster stood on the opposite side of the door, behind where it would swing open. He held breath he no longer needed and quickly diffused his magic and forced himself to let go of his form as much as he could.

He didn’t want to look like his double. He didn’t want to get him into more trouble than he probably already would.

But he was going to scare this little asshole straight if he could.

After a third rattle, the door lock still held, and the fish monster sighed loudly on the other side.

They punched the door--or, it sounded like they did. But the door didn’t budge, and not enough force had been applied for it to. With all the scrutiny going through the lab at the moment, it’d take an idiot to break down the most high profile scientist’s door, much less mess with whatever it was he was experimenting on.

Maybe they’d find an idiot willing to take the fall?

Not in the lab, though.

Unfortunately.

Making another disgusted sound, the fish monster turned and headed towards the break room, burbling angrily.

That skeleton stole his chance to see the stars. To know the ocean.

Fuck it. It wasn’t like whoever was locked in that room was going anywhere anytime soon.

Gaster waited. He waited even after the monster had gone. He waited, holding himself perfectly still, than any sane person would.

Then, suddenly, he relaxed a little. The anger started to die down. He looked down at himself.

… He really was a freak, wasn’t he?

A horrible, murderous freak.

The doctor sighed and pulled himself together again, this time easier than all the previous times now that he wasn’t drained of energy. He slumped against the wall and sat down.

That had been stupid. He was so stupid.

Gaster pressed the palms of his hands to his skull right above his eyes. If he had gone through with that his doppelganger would have had to deal with so much more shit and it would have all been his fault. He was no good at this. He didn’t know delegation or how to delicately tiptoe around something so sensitive a subject as this.

But his double did. He was doing exactly what he needed to do.

Gaster groaned at himself and pulled his legs to his chest, hugging them.

He needed to calm down before teleporting back home.

It was a while later that a voice buzzed through the room.

Coming from one of those communication devices he’d handed out was the other Gaster’s voice.

“....hey. Are you coming back?”

His double sounded tired, concerned, but otherwise fine.

Gaster flinched at the sudden voice and reached up to press the button through his head.

“Yeah.”

There was an awkward pause before he repeated himself. “Yeah. Just… wanted to calm down a little beforehand. I’m coming.”

He inhaled sharply and stood up.

“Are things okay?” his double didn’t sound soothed at the promise at all. “The others can’t hear right now. I’m in the hallway.”

Gaster glanced at the door he stood beside before walking away from it and speaking quieter. “That monster came back to the door and tried to open it. I was just… being dumb.”

He hoped that was enough for his double to infer that he wanted to kill the guy, or at least scare the shit ouf of him.

There was a sharp intake of breath over the receiver. His double also spoke more quietly. “...Gaster… what did you do?”

He’d definitely inferred it well enough.

He just needed to know if his double had actually gone through with it.

“... Nothing. I didn’t do anything.” He said, his voice sounding ashamed of himself.

“I’m sorry.”

Even though he hadn’t actually done anything he still felt compelled to apologise for nearly doing something really idiotic.

Gaster let out a breath of relief. “It’s fine. You didn’t do it, so things are fine. And we--we would’ve figured something out if you had.”

Living with Papyrus had greatly increased his capacity to talk about violence and death without sounding condescending rather than comforting.

“But since it didn’t happen, it’s not anything we need to worry about. You’re all right, though? Feeling okay?”

Gaster closed his eyes and pressed a knuckle against his forehead, tapping it there a few times as he listened to his double.

At his question he let out a tiny, bitter laugh. “Okay enough. I’m the opposite of how I felt initially meeting Papyrus, so… things should be alright.”

He made no comment about it being alright for him, but he didn’t find that very important. The kids came first.

“But how are you?” Gaster asked, taking the hint and violently ignoring it. “You sound like shit.”

Gaster’s arm dropped from his head to hang by his side. You could hear the annoyance that was across his face through the receiver. “Thanks.”

He tried to laugh it off, a sort of dry chuckle not unlike the one his double had used out in the hallway. “I feel like a piece of shit.”

He wanted to laugh again and to say that he was a horrible person, but stopped himself.

“Because you wanted to kill them?”

There was a long pause before a very tired, very drained, almost completely different sounding voice came from the other end.

“... Yeah.”

“And did you kill them?”

It was the tone of voice of someone who knew the answer, but was going to make you answer anyway.

There was another pause before a completely different tone came through. “No mom, jeeze!”

Things were getting too tense. Too whiney. Too emotional. He switched to humor just like he always did to try and cloak it all.

“Then good fucking job, Junior!” Gaster said, following along with the humor without ever losing the intensity of his voice. “You’ve been conditioned to kill shit! You fought that conditioning and didn’t kill shit when you had the chance! That’s not something to be upset about, that means you did a good. Excellent job. Now get your goopy ass over here and get a hug from your sons. Because you did something. Remember that talk we had about assholes who believe in fate? Well, you made a conscious decision to say ‘fuck that’ and you did a thing, and that thing was not doing shit. Except making me talk for way too fucking long, my throat is on fire, holy fuck. Has my point gotten across, yet, or do I have to tell you I was tempted to kill the fucker too, but I didn’t, because I’ve conditioned myself my whole life to deal with things like that?”

Through his double’s entire monologue Gaster didn’t say a thing. He waited until he was finished before teleporting right in front of him, hand dropping from the side of his head with a dopey, toothless grin on his face.

“Does this mean we can get nice cream for being good?”

Gaster punched him in his goop shoulder. “Only if you bring enough to share.”

The doctor mouthed a ‘yes’ and did a little fistpump in the air.

Gaster shook his head. “You well enough to go inside?”

“Yeah I’m good.” He smiled, genuinely this time.

Gaster nodded, “Good.”

He opened the door and stepped inside, calling, “Hey, Papyrus! Come give your dad a hug! He’s been dumb about his feelings again.”

Then he stepped inside and started planning out the logistics of buying and transporting enough nice cream for this hell family.

Papyrus looked up from his seat on the couch. “AGAIN!? WHAT NOW?” He set down the tablet he had been messing with.

“Oh god.” Gaster palmed his face as he closed the door behind him.

“Upset about dumb thoughts when he didn’t actually do anything dumb,” Gaster said. “He’s just upset he had them at all. Don’t nag him too much. Also, we’re apparently getting nice cream.”

Papyrus scoffed and stood up, his brother’s head flopping back into the couch. “yay nice cream.” He mumbled, giving a thumbs up from his position still sprawled over it.

“Papy please have mercy.” Gaster mumbled, looking incredibly embarrassed despite being unable to blush. His son had none of it, wrapping his big arms around his father and squeezing him tight.

“YOU’RE A VERY SILLY MAN SOMETIMES.” He said, patting his father on the head as he hugged him.

“I know.”

“YOU’RE NOT A BAD MAN.”

Gaster didn’t reply, which only made Papyrus hug him tighter. “SAY IT WITH ME.”

The doctor mumbled out something under his breath and his son glared. “THAT WAS TERRIBLE.”

This looked like it had happened a couple of times before at least. Perhaps this was why he had been so good at convincing his smaller self that he wasn’t a bad person; he had to do it with his father occasionally as well.

Gaster had to look away and cover his mouth to hide his grin as he watched Papyrus and Gaster.

That Papyrus was really something.

...and so was the other Gaster’s self-loathing.

Gaster’s own Papyrus had been stewing in nerves and sadness ever since they’d met, but a night with Papyrus as physical evidence and a long conversation had given him enough hope to really try for a better, kinder future. The face that this older Papyrus seemed to give the same sort of treatment to his father without the same sort of effect… said a lot.

Or maybe it meant the other Gaster wasn’t as open about his issues as the younger Papyrus was.

Or maybe seeing his supposedly ‘better’ twin didn’t give him the same hope as the Papyru had. Maybe it was an age thing; he felt he could never go back.

Whatever it was, it wasn’t anything a few gallons of Nice Cream couldn’t help soothe.

He hoped that bunny was going to be okay once Gaster placed the order.

Gaster continued to groan and mumble, Papyrus even going so far as to give him a shake in his arms. “COME ON NOW.”

“holy cow dad just say it.” Sans said, laughing as he watched from the couch.

“FfffI’m not bad! Jesus let me go.” Gaster finally said, his son obliging.

“NICE JOB.” Papyrus pat his father on the head as though he were a child. Maybe he was. An overgrown child thousands of years old who threw temper tantrums.

Gaster was unsure how to look, bridging somewhere between wanting to melt away into the floorboards and screaming.

Gaster snorted, trying hard not to laugh. “All right. Okay. I’m going to get the nice cream. All of you have to behave and not wreck my apartment until I get back. Papyrus is in charge.”

He headed over to the couch and pulled a wadded envelope out from between the cushions before pulling on the only coat he had which wasn’t a labcoat and aiming for the door again.

His double opened his mouth in shock. His SON was in charge over him? The NERVE.

Papyrus started to flex his nonexistent muscles.

Gaster glared at him.

Sans just laughed.

Gaster laughed at the expression on his twin’s face.

He left quickly, hoping to avoid whatever rath might’ve been triggered by that stunt.

Even if Papyrus was definitely the best of any of them to leave in charge of the house.

Things were going to be okay.

While his double was gone, Gaster groaned and moved to flop down onto the couch with Sans. “I can’t believe this. My own son outranks me.”

“IT’S BECAUSE I’M SO GREAT!” Papyrus grinned and then moved to the door to the bedroom he knew the two boys to be resting inside. He gently knocked on the door.

“heya,” Sans’s voice came from inside at the knock, indicating they were both awake and it was probably okay to open the door.

Papyrus opened it slowly and peeked inside, smiling. “YOUR DAD HAS GONE TO GET US NICE CREAM! DO YOU WANT TO COME OUT OR WAIT UNTIL HE’S BACK?”

Gaster winced and made grabbing gestures at Papyrus before signing ‘Not dad! Not dad!’

Oh well.

Sans and Papyrus glanced at each other from where they were tangled on the bed, before Sans glanced back at their elder and said, “...you mean your dad?”

Papyrus probably just misspoke.

Papyrus suddenly looked nervous, eye sockets bouncing between the door and what he could make out his father singing from the corner of his eyes. “ER, NO, I MEANT YOUR… GASTER. IT’S HARD TO KEEP TRACK OF WHO’S WHO! NYEH-HEH-HEH!”

He hated lying so much.

Sans… wasn’t really sure why he felt like Papyrus was lying, even when what he was saying was definitely probably right? Whatever. He let it go. Maybe Papyrus was just awkward sometimes. “okay, cool. let us know when he gets here? i dunno if paps has ever had nice cream before….?”

He glanced over at his brother, who shrugged.

“oh well. still needs more nice cream, either way.”

Papyrus nodded and slowly backed out the door, closing it gently behind him. He then spun around and stared at his father, sweating.

Gaster sighed and shrugged.

Sans and Papyrus remained in their bredroom.

“well that was weird,” Sans said. Papyrus nodded.

About half an hour later, the doorknob glowed indigo and the door swung open.

“All right, now we’re going to test how much nicecream a skeleton can ingest, I guess,” Gaster said, levitating several buckets of nicecream onto the table.

“Holy crap.” Gaster said, watching as the buckets of nice cream were set on the table. “I’m surprised you actually took that joke to heart.” He laughed.

Papyrus stood and walked to the bedroom door again, knocking before peeking inside. “YOUR GASTER IS BACK WITH THE NICE CREAM.”

“Fuck you, jokes are serious business,” Gaster said with an extremely straight face. “And as it is, I’m also going to use the goodwill generated from this to get you all to let me pass out for a while, because I need to go hide my head for a while after these last few days.”

A few minutes later, Sans and Papyrus emerged from their room, ready for a massive amount of sugar.

“Giving kids nice cream and then expecting them to be quiet enough for you to sleep? You’re nuts.” Gaster said, then laughed. “But sure. Go pass out. We can watch the kiddos.”

“That’s what I was banking on,” Gaster said, grinning back. As opposite as they were, the moments when he and his twin really got each other were exceptionally worth it. He got some bowls and plates--the few he had--and began scooping them out.

Honestly, he hadn’t funny believed the joke or taken it seriously at all, until the other Gaster had done a fist pump and for a moment looked genuinely like he’d have liked nice cream.

And, well. Maybe everyone needed a pick-me-up every now and then.

He served a handful of bowls of nice cream and then delegated the elder Papyrus to be in charge of refills.

Papyrus gave a salute and handed a bowl to his brother, then offered one to his father, who looked at it oddly.

“Pap I don’t need to eat.”

“YOU DON’T NEED TO. BUT YOU SHOULD.” He thrust the bowl at his father until he took it. “SANS TOLD ME WE USE TO EAT THIS TOGETHER, RIGHT?”

Gaster smiled a little, “Yeah we did. Thanks Pap.”

While they served icecream, Gaster went to find his own corner to curl up in and relax on. It’d been a long two days.

Meanwhile, mid bite of icecream, the younger Papyrus leaned over and attempted to whisper “DO YOU THINK HE HAS A TV IN HIS GOOP?” to his Sans.

He succeeded more than his elder version would have. Sans just snorted and turned to their caretaker’s twin. “goopster, paps has a question for ya.”

Papyrus made a startled noise and tried to wave his brother off.

“Myeah?” Gaster said as he spooned nice cream into his mouth.

He seemed to be warming up to the name ‘goopster’.

“paps wants to know if you’ve got anything we can watch a movie on,” Sans said, grinning up at his… uncle goopster, he decided. Uncle Goopster.

“Sure.” Gaster said, pulling the tablet out of his chest before getting up and walking over to the table where everyone was sitting. He had been keeping his distance for the little Papyrus’ sake until now.

“I really only have home movies on this thing though. I don’t think you guys have invented the Undernet yet, have you?”

Sans shook his head, eating more icecream. “so we can’t get otehr stuff on it?”

Papyrus didn’t seem nearly as upset this time as the other Gaster approached. He seemed to be getting a bit more used to his presence. Still, showing the home movies to him was probably not the best idea, since they’d either involve the lab or a young Papyrus being happy, and.. even if he didn’t get jealous, it might upset him.

“Not without being connected to the net I’m afraid. I don’t have anything like that on mine. Not a big movie fan. What about you two? You have your phones and stuff on you, right?” Gaster looked to his two boys.

Sans pulled out a cellphone from his pocket and Papyrus stood to go fetch the other tablet they brought with them.

“i’ve got some dumb videos saved.”

“I HAVE A FEW MOVIES I THINK.” Papyrus sat back down and began to tap at the screen. “WHAT KIND OF MOVIES DO YOU LIKE?”

Even if they did end up watching home movies, neither of them would have to worry about having to watch their alternate selves being happy at the same age. Those videos had long since been lost in the other timeline. Perhaps that was why he took so many these days, he didn’t have the old ones to look back to.

“all of them,” Sans said, very seriously. Then, a moment later, he amended, “what sort do you have?”

Papyrus also leaned in, interested and wanting to see a bit more.

Their Gaster was more of a photography person.

“LET’S SEE…” Papyrus said, leaning a bit and angling the screen so the two could better see the movies he had to choose from. Most of them were rather light-hearted children’s movies or action. There were a few comedies and even a horror flick or two on it as well, to which the skeleton frowned and looked over at Gaster. “YOU PUT YOUR SCARY MOVIES ON HERE.”

The doctor just shrugged, “I watch ‘em when you two are asleep and I don’t feel like working.”

“scary movies?” Sans asked, leaning forward and poking at one of the images on the screen.

The cover of ‘Alien’ popped up, which Papyrus quickly swiped away. “OH NO, NO SCARY MOVIES.”

“Yeah I’m not gonna be responsible for giving you two nightmares.” Gaster said as he spooned more nice cream into his mouth.

“we won’t get nightmares,” Sans said, “probably,” eating another scoop of icecream.

Papyrus, on the other hand, was looking pretty interestedly at one of the children’s movies that had appeared on the screen briefly.

Papyrus gave his little older brother a stare that screamed ‘yeah sure’, but he did manage to catch the glimpse of his twin’s and swiped back a few. “DID YOU SEE ONE YOU LIKED?”

Sans was unintimidated by the stare.

He could definitely handle anything the movies threw at him.

Papyrus nodded, ducking his head a bit and pointing at one of the ones as Papyrus swiped past them. It was brightly colored and appeared to focus on a bushy-tailed animated squirrel.

It looked pretty cute.

“OH, GOOD CHOICE!” Papyrus smiled and tapped a few buttons before the movie began to play. He pushed it around so the two could watch it. They couldn’t see the screen from that angle, but that was alright. All of them knew what was happening by the sounds emitted from it.

Papyrus was enthralled.

The bright colors, cheerful sounds, and easy conversation of the movie were so different from what he was used to, hidden away in the depths of the capital with his two family members, who meant well, but didn’t exactly break into choreographed song-and-dance to talk about their feelings.

He kind of thought the world would be a better place if that happened more often. People singing about their feelings. And also dancing. It would be really cool if everyone danced??

And the sounds were all mixed together well so that he never got overwhelmed with them???

Movies were excellent he decided.

Then they came to the part with the owl.

And Sans shrieked and hid behind him.

Papyrus didn’t think it was all that scary, but…. he patted Sans’ skull anyway.

So much for not getting nightmares.

“ride it out, tough guy.” Sans commented with a grin, having already started to help himself to a second serving of nice cream. Papyrus and Gaster had decided one bowl was enough for them.

‘Goopster’ wasn’t looking at them, his head leaned onto his palm as he just listened to the movie.

But he was smiling.

Sans did survive watching the ‘scary’ part of the movie, and was growing very tired by the end. Papyrus had gotten a chance to rest during the day, but Sans had been up for most of it. He was yawning by the end, despite having consumed two bowls of icecream, like his elder.

Papyrus, still taking the role of ‘in-charge’ very seriously, posed the two youngsters a question once the credits began to roll. “I THINK IT’S PROBABLY GETTING LATE. DO YOU WANT TO GO TO BED?”

Sans nodded, yawning, and his Papyrus nodded along as well, ready to take vigil over his older brother until he could also fall asleep.

Papyrus nodded and took the tablet away before standing up and beginning to clean everything. He could use a little nap himself and Sans was always ready to sleep, but their father would probably take a walk around the ruins and mess around with his machine a little during the night rather than do any actual sleeping.

While the elder Papyrus cleaned, Sans slipped back onto his crutches and made his way to the room. He paused halfway there, glancing back over his shoulder?

“papyrus? you coming?”

Papyrus held up a finger that meant ‘one moment,’ and turned back to watching his double. A moment later, he got up and began helping clean up.

The taller skeleton flashed his double a smile, eager to let him help clean up and giving him small, easy tasks as he went about putting everything in the sink and washing it up, then handing it to be dried over to his small double.

It wouldn’t take long to tidy things at all.

Papyrus began to smile a bit as his elder gave him tasks to complete.

He. He was being useful and doing a good thing without anything bad happening to anyone else.

He could get used to cleaning.

Between the two of them, the kitchen was soon back to its usual state of relative cleanliness, and he felt a bit proud of his hand in it.

He gave his elder a smile before running back to his brother and heading in to bed.

Papyrus watched his smaller self go before settling down on the air mattress beside his brother, taking his tablet and poking away at it to try and get himself in the mindset to take a nap. Despite using magic today it didn’t seem to affect him at all.

Gaster lingered for a bit before signing ‘going for a walk’ to his sons and teleporting out to do just that.

Gaster had long passed out in his corner, fairly content and certain that the kids were safe with their doubles; it gave him some much needed time for relaxation that he hadn’t had for a long time.

Sans and Papyrus climbed into bed together, snuggling up and relaxing; they both fell asleep much more quickly than expected.

All things considered, it had been a good two days.

#mayem #fear and loathing #undertale #RP log #kid #goop #sans #papyrus

15 notes · View notes