#dei the skull kid | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ari-cuno · 1 year ago

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HAPPY (LATE-) BIRTHDAY AIM!!!

To celebrate I spedran a little drabble to celebrate the boys day^^

***

Fresh snow fell gently outside the foggy windows in the living room, obscuring the warm light of the fireplace. Axel tossed a piece of construction paper into the trash can next to him, sighing heavily as pixels buzzed around him. Several arts and crafts materials were thrown out onto the coffee table in the center of the couches, and he made sure not to spill the several containers with beads and charms for bracelets all over the floor, knowing his parents would give him an earful for it.

The little skeleton found himself at odds with himself, a pen taped to the side of his skull as the young boy attempted to start on a new piece of paper, taking out one of his mom's several pencils. Snow continued to trickle down outside, despite the questionable weather conditions the Omega timeline provided its residence.

Winter was always one of his favorite times of the year. It was cold out and it made him sleepy ever since he was younger. It was still magical, of course, 5 years of growth didn't mean he wasn't a kid still. He liked the feeling of snowflakes landing on his face, and part of him wondered if maybe he should go outside, have some fun and think about this gift a little less. Axel frowned as he looked down at the drawing he'd worked so hard on, crayons and markers strung about as he'd forgotten to put them away before writing his card.

He continued to stare as he folded the paper in half, getting ready to decorate the front with stickers, tapes, and glitter. Did he get the features right? The drawing contained two little figures in the center with big, happy grins. It conveyed happiness and love, the pair surrounded by little hearts and stars. The little skeleton could recognize himself well enough. He'd drawn himself in his old clothes he'd worn up until recently, the warm coat, the simple yet comfy pants, and a scarf resembling his father's. But he felt his face warm up staring at the other figure, little orange pupils staring back at him.

He remembered they were orange, a sort of Mac and cheese color he found silly to point out, but the other skeleton had found his little joke funny, and something about that made him smile. Did he still wear overalls? Axel had worked hard drawing the set, finding it incredibly difficult and painstaking. No matter how much his mom taught him, he could never really get the hang of drawing certain things. Despite this, Axel was proud of his achievement.

“...I wonder how you're doing.”

“How who's doing?” A little voice asked next to him.

Axel made a sound of surprise, trying to jump up but catching his knee on the edge of the table, a small wince coming from the ten year old's mouth. “Ow!! Aelis! Don't do that!” He cried out, before her words registered in his head. “No one! I'm just- making…something.” He trailed off.

His little sibling gave him a pleasant little stare, a mug held in her small hands. The small of chocolate and cinnamon filled his nostrils, and he let out a little huff of disappointment. Aelis was holding a cup of warm hot cocoa, little drops of marshmallows and a swirl of whip cream sprinkled with cinnamon made his mouth water. But no, no chocolate for him, he was stuck with warm milk, or some other non-chocolate based beverage.

“...Writing?” Aelis asked with a curious glint, peeking over in an attempt to see, but noticing his drawing. “Mmm…who's dat?” She asked, pointing at the foreign orange skeleton. Axel immediately hid the drawing, his face a shade of soft, cool blue. “Go awayyyy! I thought you were supposed to be outside in the snow.” He pointed out.

“Mhm. Was cold so Mommy got us hot cocoa. They said to come tell you so dey can give you something warm to dwink.” Aelis said, taking a sip of her chocolatey goodness.

Axel blinked in surprise. Was he that focused on his word he didn't even see his sister or hear her open the front door? The snow sounded so much fun to the little glitch, his gaze held longingly towards the outside, where his parents were out with his sisters. But no…he had to put his feelings into words correctly!

It had been five long years since he'd seen the only skeleton he'd deemed a close friend, despite their short time together. Aim didn't make fun of him, or taunt him, or make him feel bad…he was nice, kind…and Axel had taken the time to make him a little bracelet.

Looking back, that little thing was held together by string and glue. It surely must've broken by now. But, he'd improved his craft and his string magic. His dad had been kind enough to teach him how to tie knots and use his strings like thread, much like how he made dolls and plushies for him and his siblings.

Axel looked towards a bracelet and a few other trinkets off to the side, tied together with blue threads and decorated with colorful charms and beads. Three letter beads were threaded together in the center of the bracelet next to two stars, the word simply reading: ‘Aim’. He felt all giddy just thinking about the orange skeleton seeing his creations and actually receiving them. Their time had been cut oh so short from each other, but Aim had no idea how much of an impact his presence made on him.

His dad didn't understand it, and his mom found his ‘infatuation’ or whatever that meant cute. Axel felt inspiration growing within him as he opened the paper turned card, getting ready to write his new ideas in the blank space.

“...Should I tell Mommy you don't want it?” Aelis chimed in as she watched her brother.

“Uh? Oh, yeah, no, I'm good… I don't want anything.” He reassured his little sibling, despite how nice of an idea something warm and sweet sounded. The sound of his sister walking off before heading outside barely registered in his head as he went back to work.

Hi, Aim.

If you're reading this letter, this means that my

m̶e̶s̶s̶a̶g̶e̶ letter got to you! Do you remember me? I'm Axel, the boy whose name sounds like that silly frog looking thingy? My parents call me that all the time! What's the word spelled? Axolotl! Yep! That's me! It's been 5 years, right? You said your birthday was today, right? Well, I wanted to-

Axel paused as his focus was taken away from the card, hearing the sound of the front door opening this time. He expected to see his younger sibling, but the actual person wasn't who he was expecting. Ink exhaled a frosty breath, wearing a warm coat and their scarf tucked more closely to their body to preserve warmth.

“You should be playing outside.” His mother said, multi-colored eye lights staring at him as they approached, light sprinkles of show sprinkled across their face. They were holding a cup that smelled sweet and creamy, topped with cinnamon. “Aelis told me you didn't want anything. But I figured I'd bring you something just in case.” The short skeleton said, walking over to them.

“I'm not hungryyy…” Axel whined, his face warming up as he attempted to hide his work in the making, although his workspace was far too broad to hide well.

“You haven't eaten since this morning, now drink this, it's eggnog, with no adult drinks, it's nice and warm.” Ink said softly, setting the warm cup down on the table. Axel made a sound of acknowledgement, knowing he couldn't really disobey his mom, besides, a sweet drink did seem really nice…

“If you don't wanna play with dad and your sisters, I'll keep you company here.” Ink said sweetly, offering him the mug.

“...Thank you.” The little boy mumbled politely, taking the mug, temporarily letting his protective grip on his prized work go. Ink eyed the little mess of art supplies on the table curiously, eyelights shifting shape and changing color as they blinked. They took a second to observe the drawing Axel had placed neatly next to the little charms he'd worked too hard to make on his own.

“Who's that?” His mom finally asked curiously sitting down on their knees next to him. Axel flinched, putting down his mug in a quick motion. “I- uhm…it's- gift- It's-its not done-” He stuttered out, partially hiding his face in the fabric of his scarf. Ink took a second to remember, looking lost in thought as they studied the features on the other skeleton doodle curiously. It clicked in their head finally.

“Oh! Is that the little boy you met when you were four?” Ink asked, picking up a pencil from the stack of supplies enthusiastically.

Axel felt like he'd been caught with a hand in the cookie jar. “...Maybe.” He fessed up, his face a darker tone of blue. “Wait…I was four? Ugghhh-” He mumbled, knowing he'd have to cross out and erased some words in his yet to be finished letter.

“Hm…I thought you'd stopped thinking about that kid for a while now, why are you doing this now? It's been a long time.” His mom pointed out, “I'm not saying it's wrong, but you don't even know if he'd remember you.” Ink said, giving his head a little pat of reassurance.

“It's his birthday today…”

Ink blinked in surprise. “You…remembered that?” They asked, looking a little stunned by his ability to retain that little fact.

“I don't know, I remember telling him about birthdays and how awesome it was for me. He told me didn't really know other kids his age and so couldn't have a birthday party…so uhmm…” Their son hesitated, looking towards their letter. “...I just…thought even though I can't see him…I want him to know I still wanna be his friend.” Axel said, sounding shaky and a little uncertain.

Ink's face softened more, “Ah, So what are you doing?” The painter asked, taking another look at the charms on the table. “You've been working with your strings I see.” They commented, picking up the named bracelet and staring at it thoughtfully. Axel gave his mom a hesitant look.

“I gave him a bracelet when we first met, but it's probably lost or broken by now, so I'm making a new one.” He said with a bit more confidence. “I practiced more like Dad told me, and It's done. I added some stars and sparkles too, and a ring with a star on it!” He said, sounding more comfortable explaining the layout of his work. His mother seemed a little puzzled, tilting their head slightly as their eye lights blinked to a new color. Ink noticed a hot glue gun off to the side, frowning. “Next time you want to use that ask me or Error, that stuff hurts to get on you.” They warned, before pausing. “Wait, huh?”

“Ring!” Axel repeated.

“Ring?” Ink asked.

“Yeah, like, the ones you and Dad have? I wanna have matching ones with him too!” Axel declared.

Ink looked down at the precious piece of jewelry on their finger, breathing out a little laugh. “Oh, Axolotl, I don't think you know the meaning of these rings at all, but do what you want.” They said, enjoying the innocent and puzzled look he flashed them. “Don't worry about it.” Ink said sheepishly, eye lights large with affection.

“Hmph…” Axel sighed as he looked down at the card he'd been working on, stumped on the little message inside. His look of disappointment was noticed by Ink, who scooted closer to look over the words on the page.

“Are you trying to write a thank you card?” Ink questioned, twirling the pencil they had picked up from the pile of art supplies.

Axel nodded, “Yeah…well…it's more of a feelings card…? I guess??” He said quietly, groaning as the pencil he was using to write with broke. He wiped the bits of graphite off the colorful card with slumped shoulders. “Oh? Feelings? Like…a confession?~” Ink said smoothly, giving the little boy a teasing look.

Axel gave his mom another puzzled look, “What are you looking at me like that for- wait-” He said, realizing what they meant. “EW. Not like that!! No! Nope! BLEH!” He huffed, sticking his tongues out in exaggerated disgust.

“Haha, if you say so.” Ink said, giving him a comforting nuzzle. “Here, why don't I help you?” They offered warmly.

“What?” Axel echoed in a puzzled tone.

Ink replaced Axel's pencil with the one they had taken. “I can help you write, or if you're having trouble figuring out what to say I can help you.” They said, smiling down at him. “You won't get anywhere without some help.” Ink pointed out.

“But what about playing outside with Oras and Aelis?” Axel asked with sudden 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖼𝖾𝗋𝗇, “I mean- I don't need…that much help…I don't know…” He trailed off, bringing the card closer to him as he thought about the importance of his words so carefully. It would be so…so much easier in person, but…

“Your dad can watch them, besides it gets lonely in here, and I can see none of the pets are keeping you company.” The small painter commented, looking around for Oras’ platypus or the family cat. “I guess…” Axel mumbled with unsure energy, blinking in surprise as the stress pixels around his body fizzled back to normal, or well, normal enough.

Ink gave him a little boop on the nose, a little smile forming on the boy's face as he looked up at his mother. “See, you stressing like that makes you all glitchy. Seems to me like you do need help.” They said, a smug look on their face.

“...Maybe a little bit?”

“Great, now, what is it we're writing here?”

“Oh- well, I wanted to write him a thank you note and just…tell him how I've been and how I feel and it just…isn't coming out the way I like.” Axel sighed, sticking out his tongues in annoyance, “I know what I wanna say from my mouth but-”

“You can't put it into words, right?” Ink concluded, getting into a comfortable position as they moved closer to their precious son.

“Yeah!” Axel huffed, “Mom, why can't I do it?” He asked innocently, eyes still filled with that same child-like curiosity and joy from all those years ago. “Well, what you put into words and what you speak can mean and sound different, do you want to copy everything you want to say onto the page?” They asked.

“Well…it'll be too much.” Axel mumbled sheepishly.

“Ah, well, why don't we leave the really, reaaally important things first? That way there will be room for extra things but you get your most important feelings out of the way first.” Ink said, helping the little skeleton erase some of the unwanted writing he'd started on.

“Okay!” Axel agreed.

Snow continued to fall outside, and Axel couldn't help but feel a little more at ease. “Okay then.” Ink said brightly, “Can you tell me the most important things you want to say? I'll write it down since my writing is neater, haha.” They said, tapping the end of the pencil against the wooden frame of the coffee table. Axel gained a deeper blue hue to his face, taking some of the leftover strings he'd been using, tugging and fidgeting with his magical threads. They snapped after a lot of tugging, but it helped calm his nerves.

“Uhmm…okay…” Axel sucked in a deep breath, preparing himself to get the raw emotions out verbally.

The minutes ticked by, and the soft crackling of fire mixed with their writing let a cozy mood form for the pair. Occasionally their cat came to offer a greeting, but Ink shoo'd the cat away, not wanting her to mess up the several bags of art supplies and ribbons that would be terrible to clean up from the carpet.

Axel felt much more relaxed now, a small smile on his face as he discussed with Ink openly, his mom listening with silent contempt before turning to write down the snippets of speech on the paper in a neat hand-writing. He'd nearly finished the eggnog his mom gave him before the front door was opened once more, a few sprinkles of snow being able to sneak inside. The little boy could see his dad in the corner of his vision holding the door open as Oras ran inside, dragging Aelis along with her, who was covered in snow bits, her hood looking as if she'd been pelted by a snowball gun.

“Okay, I think we got everything Axolotl.” Ink said, signing off the corner of the card, and taking the time to doodle a little drawing.

“Yeah!” Axel said, smiling up at his mother appreciatingly. He turned his attention to the card, a proud look on his face. “Huh?” He noticed his mother doodling, “What's that?” He asked.

It took Ink a second to respond, but the little being flashed a small smile, setting their pencil down once the doodle was done. Ink had drawned a neat little picture on whatever space was left on the page. There were 4 figures Axel recognized easily; himself in the center, his mother and father off to the side, and his sisters on his other side, all looking chibi and happy. Above the cute doodle was a small message surrounded by bells and ribbons.

‘Happy holidays from us to you!’

“Do you like it?” Ink asked hopefully.

“It's great!!” Axel cried out joyfully, giving his mom a big hug, causing them to flinch in surprise with his excitement. “Aw- I'm glad I could help.” They said affectionately, returning the little gesture.

“Did he finish da weird card?” Aelis asked, sounding exhausted before letting out a little sneeze, shaking some of the show off her body.

“Yeah- wait, why are you so covered in snow?” Ink asked.

“Snowball fight.” Error explained, wiping some snow off his shoulders. “That I won!” Oras declared after him, jumping up proudly in the air. He closed the door behind them, letting the warmth of the house take over. Error helped Aelis get some left over ice bits off her head, the five year old letting out another little sneeze to clear her nostrils of any snow.

“Why don't we eat something? Especially for you, before you catch a cold.” Ink said, looking towards Aelis. Error took his large coat off, hanging it up near the door as he helped Aelis take her gear off. Oras had already put her things by the door, instead focusing on her poor brothers little finished project that he was attempting to put in a little box. “Who's that for?” His older sister asked, gaining everyone else's attention.

“No one-” He said quickly, hiding the little gift box behind him.

“Oras, go wash your hands, me and your dad are gonna prepare something warm for you.” Ink said, the little skeleton huffing and running off to the nearest bathroom. “You too, Aelis.”

Aelis followed her sister, running past her brother with another curious look on her face.

Error offered a brief glance, but didn't seem to question his sons little present, instead accompanying Ink to the kitchen across the living room, their soft talking kept mostly muffled to Axel, who was focusing on cleaning up the mess he'd made with all the stickers and glitter and other little decorations. He grabbed the trash can, throwing away his scraps and other unnecessary objects. Axel could hear his father walking over, standing over him with an intrigued glint in his eyes. “There must be something really special in that box.” He said, taking a second to help Axel put all the art supplies back into the boxes neatly and orderly.

Axel gave the box a little shake, the card, bracelet, and ring inside moving about. “Mom helped me write my friend a super special card to go along with a present I made with my strings!” He said happily, finishing putting the last items, some sticker sheets, into the arts and crafts boxes.

“Are you gonna give it to your friend today?” His dad asked, putting the boxes away on a nearby shelf.

“Yeah-” Axel declared, before pausing. Wait…

‘How… How am I supposed to get this to him? The whole point is that I can't see him, but I want to give this to him anyway. Why didn't I think about this before? Oh no…’ Axel thought, his face visibly darkening. Error noticed, the tall skeleton frowning. “What's wrong?” He asked.

“...Nothing…I just…uhm-” Axel hesitated, before an idea blinked in his head. He looked away, fidgeting nervously. “I'll tell you during food time!” He said, trying to wipe the sadness and anxiety off his face.

“Uhmmm, sure, kiddo.” Error said hesitantly, figuring he could trust his son enough and not press on the matter until he was ready.

The smell of warm soup and some sandwiches made Axel's soul flutter, his mouth watering at the thought of having a nice, warm meal after all that work. He noticed his sisters returning from their trip to wash their hands, looking to be talking. Axel would've paid attention, but he was too busy staring down at the gift in his hands. If he had skin his palms would be sweaty.

It felt like several hours went by with Axel blanking out, his whole consciousness entirely focused on the perfect little present in his hands. The boy knew his idea had a low chance of success, but..if his mom and dad were willing to hear him out, maybe…

“Axel?”

Maybe he could get them to-

“Axel!”

“Ah-” He yelped, snapping out of the little daze he'd put himself in. Axel hadn't even noticed Oras had walked over to him until he heard her call his name more than once to finally get his attention. “Y-Yeah?” He said to his younger sister, sounding distracted and a little uneasy. Oras gave him a little huff of exasperation. “I told you that the food is ready! Come onnnnn! You've been staring off randomly for the last…” She paused to count, “-Ten minutes!!” She finished in a lecturing tone.

“I was thinking!” Axel huffed, his sister dragging him by the scarf over to the kitchen where the rest of the family was already seated and served whatever food they wanted. “Okay, okay! I'm going! Stop pulling on my scarf!” He huffed, holding onto his gift for dear life as he was pulled against his will.

She finally let him go once they reached the table, the oldest plopping down next to her younger sister and digging into the warm chicken noodle soup served for her in a colorful bowl. Axel took a seat closer to his parents, looking down at the warm food on his plate. He would've eaten, but he knew he had to be brave and force out his question already. A few minutes went by of quiet eating and talking, mainly between the other's as Axel poked at his food, trying to distract himself and come up with the best way to ask, mainly his mom, his question and request.

“Axel?”

“Hm?” Axel said as his name was spoken, looking towards the one who called him; his dad. Error had a concerned frown on his look, mirroring Ink's own look of faint worry. “Are you gonna eat?” His father asked, gaining everyone else's attention.

Axel fumbled around with his scarf, looking away. “Yeah! Uhm… I just…wanted to ask…” He hesitated, before slowly bringing the little present out, setting it on the table. “I can't give this to the friend I have on my own…s-so I was wondering if you and mom could do it for me.” He asked shyly, fidgeting with his fingers.

“The orange boy we haven't seen in forever?” His older sister asked curiously. Error's frown deepened, “You're still thinking about that kid? I thought you'd move on from him.” The tall glitch said in exasperation, before sighing as he watched the look of pure sadness on Axel's face. “Listen, there's reasons why you can't visit him right now, he's somewhere far, faaaar away, and me and your mom aren't supposed to-”

“I promise we'll get it to him.” Ink said brightly.

“WH- honey please.” Error huffed, glitching with slight irritation, before his gaze softened at the pleading look on his son's face. Ink turned to look at him, eyes soft and optimistic. “Aww, come on Error, look at how much this means to him…” Ink pleaded, bumping against his shoulder in an affectionate manner.

“You know better than anyone the last time you interacted with that anomalies parents-” Error lectured, pausing as Ink and Axel gave him pleading faces, mainly Axel.

“Pleeaaaase?”

Error’s faces gained a tiny tint of blue. “Ugh, fine.” He grumbled.

“Yay!”

“Don't worry, I won't interact with them for more than ten minutes.” Ink said, taking the present from their son as he gave them a look of joy and appreciation, sighing in relief as he continued to eat.

“Oh you won't because I'm going with you, I'm not letting you get attacked again.” He mumbled quietly enough so that the other kids couldn't hear. Ink cringed, a nervous laugh coming from the smaller skeleton. “But we haven't seen him in years!” Oras cried out, swallowing a piece of the sandwich she was eating. “Why are you even doing this now?” She asked.

“Becoming 10- or 9 or whatever is big deal!” Axel huffed, before looking away, “It's his birthday…and I never was able to make anything that would actually reach him. I used to make little gifts that would lay around in my room or a floaty lamp I hoped would reach him but they never did…and ever since mom and dad said I should stop I just kind of forgot after all this time…” The glitchy skeleton said softly, feeling his mom give him a little head pat. “...I just want it to reach him in time.”

“We'll get it to him, me and your dad promise, right?” Ink asked, glancing up at Error.

“Don't get his hopes up…” Error mumbled before sighing, “We'll try, but let us eat first.” His dad said, a small smile on his face as he stared back at Ink.

“WHAAAT?” Axel cried out, his voice glitching.

Ink blinked in shock, “Eh- well you can't expect us to drop everything and go now- you gotta be patient.” They said teasingly.

Axel let out a groan, sitting back in his chair as Oras gave him a head pat. “Cheer up, Axolotl!” She said in a bubbly tone.

“Ouuughhh…” Axel mumbled, sitting back in his chair in defeat.

“Don't worry kiddo, we'll get it to him before the day ends.” Ink offered gently, a determined look on their face.

“If we can find him.” Error sighed, his arm wrapped around Ink's shoulders, earning an elbowing from his smaller spouse.

***

Aim moved through the pages in his book with incredible speed, his immersion and focus on the story being at its height as he neared the climax. The little boy sat on his bed, legs swaying back and forth as he turned another page. His Unclemare had given him a new load of books to read on his special day, and although Aim missed the way his uncle would sit with him and read the words out loud, this was fine all the same.

The taste of chocolate still lingered in his mouth from the slice of cake he'd cut on his own a few hours earlier. He'd heard from his parents about how birthdays were a time where those closest to you could come by and have a party and eat sweets to celebrate another year of your time alive. He…didn't exactly have many friends, but that didn't affect him as badly.

He had his fathers, his uncle, and when Nightmare had left, Killer, his other favorite ‘uncle’ to interact with had dropped by to give him presents and congratulate him. Reading books and playing and having fun wasn't so bad on his own, no matter how strange it felt seeing other kids playing with others on the rare times his dad's took him around other kids.

Aim had a whole stack of books left to read, all a wide variety of subjects. Some sci-fi, fantasy, historical fantasy, and even a little classic fairytale to spice things up a little. He hummed a little tune, quickly turning into a little whistle. He was happy his dad hadn't presented the idea of training him like last year. The thought of it made his focus cut away from the words on the page he was on.

No, he shouldn't think about that, especially when it was his big day. His parents were happy too, and that was good…so he needed to lighten up.

Aim blinked and shook his head, sighing in disappointment as he lost the spot he'd been reading, having to start all the way back up at the beginning of the page. The clock ticked quietly in his room as he finished the chapter he'd been reading, that excited investment finally back on his face.

There was the soft sound of some sort of glass shaking and moving next to his bed, starting off quiet and barely audible.

Aim turned his orange eye-lights to the sound after it got too loud to ignore. A glass container full of paint he kept for art purposes was shaken from the corner it was sitting in, one of the paint bottles inside rattling around quite unnaturally. The little boy stared in bewilderment and confusion, closing his book and sitting up. He grabbed the trembling glassware carefully, taking the lid off to get a better look at the paint bottle looking as if it was having a seizure.

“What…?”

Aim attempted to grab it, flinching as it magically jumped out of the container, landing on the floor with a hard smack. He fumbled, putting the glass container with all the other paints down, staring upon the still trembling and moving bottle. Did they have ghosts? Was there a ghost trapped in the bottle? He rubbed his eye a little, wondering if he was just seeing things.

…Nope, still moving-

BURST.

The paint bottle suddenly exploded, the green paint inside bursting out and somehow growing in size from the volume that was in the bottle initially. Aim let out a shocked cry as he watched the paint fall to the floor, coating a good portion of the floor an emerald green color. “Waaaaa! Oh no! The mess-” Aim cried out, rushing to go get a towel, before scurrying to a halt as the green paint began to…move?

The paint made soft ripples on the ground, little bubbles coming from its surface as it looked like something was…forming?

“Uhm…” Aim opened his mouth, but his confusion turned into shock once more as the paint suddenly shot up into two silhouettes, morphing with strange liquidly sounds until the paint melted off the strangers’ bodies.

“Oh good! Finally!” One of the…skeletons called with a light, high voice. The skeleton looked all too familiar, strange, multi-colored eyes and a signature splotch on the right cheek. Aim stared in shock, but noticed an even larger skeleton looming over them. He looked annoyed and disgusted with the paint on his body, strange blue streaks running down his face. Aim almost thought he was eternally crying.

“Ink hurry up-”

“AHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!” Aim screamed in fear, stepping back as there were two random adult skeletons in his room, one he knew all too well.

“Woah! Hi! Since been such a long time-”

“Leave me aloneeeee! I don't wanna be your friend you're mean!!!” Aim cried out, earning a confused look from the two skeletons before him. “Woah woah! Calm down! I'm not your Ink- or well, the one you know! I'm the cool one! Calm down-”

“Why are you in my room?!” Aim said, his nerves not calming down, trying to process what the slightly kinder looking Ink was saying. Hmmm…this didn't really look like the Ink he knew from his childhood, the one that had abducted him. That skeleton was scary, always having some weird unsettling feeling behind him whenever he spoke, as if his words or intentions weren't always clear in the end. Aim found that out very quickly, remembering the sting in his soul when his father grabbed him…

But this Ink… there was no maliciousness behind those eyes, in fact, their presence was strangely comforting, a sense of warmth surrounded them, and despite the obvious lack of natural feelings behind their eyes and very being, this felt more…genuine.

…Wait, when was the last time he met another version like this-

“Yeahhhh- haha sorry don't mind him.” Ink said, pointing at the scary and big skeleton standing behind them like a guard. “He's just here to make sure I don't get hurt again!” They said sheepishly. Aim had his hand on the door to his room, having been ready to sprint down the stairs and to his parents for help and safety. He halted, turning to look at them oh so slowly.

“...Again? W-What are you-”

“ANYWAY. Listen we don't really have enough time, so here-” Ink pulled out a little box from behind them. A little bow was on the top, carefully keeping the present closed. “We hope we're not too late, it is still your birthday, right-”

“AIM! Are you alright?!” A muffled voice came from downstairs, quickly rising as footsteps were heard approaching.

The man behind Ink tensed, “Ink let's go.” He said sternly, tugging on their scarf.

“Oh boy- okay listen- this is from someone who really wanted to give this to you! Please open it!” Ink said, handing the present to the little boy, although it was more of a toss. Aim barely managed to catch it, looking down at the little tag taped to the side of the box. For Aim only.

“Happy birthday and Merry Christmas! I hope you-”

“Ink!”

“I'm going!”

“Who is this- wait!” Aim cried out, hearing the sound of a portal of some sorts being opened. He turned around, watching as the taller skeleton jumped through the other side with them, leaving the paint mess on the floor. He tried to reach out, but the scary looking glitches made him hesitate. No, he needed to know who they were! Why did he feel a strange sense of deja vu he couldn't put his finger on.

“You can't just leave this here!” He shouted. , watching the portal close up, leaving the space around it back to how it was initially. Aim was left alone in silence, his emotions running wild. Confusion, fear, but part of him found things a little humorous, especially as the paint on the floor was left there. He was looking down at the gift with wonder, eye lights sparkling faintly the more his mind processed the information.

…Someone had given him a gift? Someone he couldn't remember or didn't know? Guilt filled his chest, maybe it was his uncle playing a prank, or his parents… ?

Aim yelped as his door was busted open, his parents looking tense and ready for battle.

All they saw was Aim holding a little present, and a puddle of green paint on the floor, soaking into the carpet the more seconds went by.

***

Aim looked down at the brand new, pretty bracelet in the box, the little ring tucked nice and close to it, a few decorative pieces of paper being stuffed inside to cushion everything. He held the little bracelet in his hand, eye lights large and full of silent, raw joy. On his nightstand were the remnants of an old bracelet, worn down through time but unforgotten.

He noticed a handmade card at the bottom of the box and carefully grabbed it, setting the box aside. It was cute and well made, little stickers and decorations littered the back and the front, everything from snowflakes to little peppermint stickers was sprinkled around. Glitter lines the border, and Aim couldn't help but let the excitement grow as he opened the card.

He saw a little drawing of a skeleton family in a big corner, before his eyes turned to the words written in neat handwriting. Aim's eyes widened.

Dear Aim,

My name is Axel! My mom is writing this for me because my grammar and handwriting isn't the best, so don't think it's mine! But I wanted to get you this because, well, it's your birthday, right? You may not remember me, but if you do, I want you to know that I enjoyed our short time together, and you made me feel, well, not weird. I tried giving you gifts before, but my mom says it isn't easy to get things for you, but If you're reading this that means they made it! I gave you a bracelet when I first met you, do you remember that? You were afraid of my mom but we took you back home and I made you a bracelet to make you feel better while they tried to find your home! Well, five year old me had terrible skills, so I wanted to remake it as a way to show I still remember you and want to meet you again, even if it's been forever. Sorry none of my other gifts from previous years made it to you, I promise I'll try to get more for you next year if you can respond somehow.

I asked my mom if we could invite you for Christmas next year, but your parents have to say yes, so PRETTY PLEASE ask them! Please don't forget about me :[ I miss you a lot. Can we be friends again, even if we might have changed?

From,

Axel

P.S. I luv you and Merry Christmas!!! Please visit next year!

__________________________________________

Aim belongs to @zu-is-here

Oras, Axel, and Aelis belong to me

Thank you Zu for creating such an adorable little man^^

#undertale au #utmv #sanscest #aim!sans #post dark cream #ink sans #error sans #axel #oras #aelis #ari writing #so sorry its so late! D:

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nevadas-night-time-novelist · 10 months ago

Note

Can I request Doc x Nurse assistant! Reader who was treated badly by nurses where they work?

Doc x Nurse!reader

CW: Past abuse/trauma

"Ahem." You jumped slightly, turning around to meet the goggles of your new employer. With his face bandaged and goggles over his eyes, his expression was hard to read. No doubt if you could see it, you'd see the same judgement and irritation from your previous coworkers, before it would spill into anger as they screamed how incompetent, how useless you-

"Could you hand me a roll of bandages? Above your head, to the right." You turned back around, seeing a small cardboard box with 'BANDAGES' scrawled on in sharpie. Rushing to avoid being screamed at, your fingers held the box and-

It slipped from your grasp, the rolls tumbling to the floor, one of them rolling away and unravelling as it went. You followed them to the floor, crying and flinching away. "I'm sorry! I-I didn't mean it-" You cried, shaking and preparing for a slap.

"Are you alright?" Doc's voice was soft, or as soft as he could manage. You looked at him, he was kneeling down on one leg, his hand inches from your shoulder. "It was an accident, I need some new boxes anyway... I'm guessing your training wasn't smooth sailing."

The pair of you were now sitting together, Doc behind his desk, and you in front of it. He'd cleared his desk, serving some lavender tea for you to help calm you down, breaking out a secret stash of cookies he kept hidden for himself. "I'm trusting you with this secret. If the boys knew of this, they'd be raiding my cupboards every night." He chuckled.

Even with his relaxed attitude, you were still on edge, preparing for him to snap in an instant. The Matron was very good at putting up a nice front before doing a rug pull and turning vicious. The physical abuse you could see coming, the mental abuse was something else. The sick irony in care workers being some of the most cruel people you've met.

"So," Doc lowered his mask, showing off his scarred face. Deep scars gouged into his face, a Glasgow smile slit into his cheeks. "do you want to discuss what just happened, or not?"

"Well...." You nibbled on a cookie, trying to calm your nerves. "yeah, I.. I guess. Uh.. um.. It wasn't nice. Well, it was to begin with, but it spiralled fast. Where I trained, it was a real dog-eat-dog place. The strong step on the weak to get what they want. You don't want to follow in their lead, you become a target yourself. I helped a patient another nurse was beating, and that's when the trouble started for me."

A shaky breath escaped your lips. "Take your time, you don't need to go over everything if it's too much." You glanced up at Doc. "We can take a break if you need to."

"How'd you get your scars?" You pointed at your cheek.

Doc cleared his throat and shrugged. "I suppose I can answer that. Deimos and I used to be part of the agency. We were dissenting, and happened to get caught. Or, I did. I was pinned down, one of my former friends pulled his knife and started carving. Deimos put a stop to it by shooting him in the back of the skull. He saved my life, as I had his many times before."

Doc had told you little pieces here and there about how he'd adopted a newborn and orphaned Deimos and raised him, they'd been together since Dei's beginning, a father figure to the little shit.

"He was sobbing, pretty upset. He thought I was gonna die since I was coughing up blood. I had to calm him, and get him to help treat my face. Kid's been through hell with me. Of course that means I know I can trust him with my life."

Out of everyone in the base, Dei and Doc had the strongest bond, but you knew from the subtle glances and awkward flirts that Dei and San's bond was pretty strong too.

"You trust the others?" You glanced behind, almost expecting them to be standing there, but they weren't even close to your location, the three of them on a mission to intercept some more firearms.

"Sanford, sure. He's helped since day one, using his strength, mechanic and cooking skills to help everyone. Sometimes I train with him. A skilled tactician, and a sadist when he needs to be. Good for getting information."

Doc paused, taking a long drink of tea. "Hank on the other hand, absolutely not. He's reckless, downright moronic when he's got a goal in mind. Nothing else matters but meeting it. I don't doubt that one day he's going to try and kill the team. But I know we can put him down when that happens."

That didn't really take away from your worries. "What if Hank hurts me?"

"I'll kill him." Doc's eyes narrowed. "It was hard enough to find a nurse to aid me, let alone one as competent as you are. The only think I believe holding you back is self doubt. You've got potential. I just wish you'd use it."

"You get told you're awful and beaten for it long enough, and you believe it." You replied, swallowing the lump in your throat.

Doc exhaled, a long and resolute sigh. "I suppose I've got a lot of work to do building you back up then." He smiled, his aged features looking rather handsome in the dull light. "I believe in you, and I know you'll be the perfect nurse to this doc."

#2bdamned #madcom #madness combat #madcom 2bdamned #2bdamned x reader #madcom reader insert #madness combat reader insert #x gon deliver to ya #ya boi is ona fuckin ROLL recently woo woo

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thxcxlxstialwarricr · 7 years ago

Photo

((A bunch of random doodles I did for fun. The Pamoon with the sunglasses is from one of the verses I barely use. Yes King Dice is in there... and yes i drew him a Lance with swapped outfits.Yes I drew a cuphead style Pamoon and Lance. I actually wasn’t planning on doing Laila, Albert, Shelby, and my persona in that style but... Tired Pamoon is how I feel. Also did one Lance with the manga colors.))

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afriendlypokealien-blog · 8 years ago

Photo

((I wanted to do a full drawing of my persona. I did my best. Is a front view and look I actually added the trumpet. The hat is doing whatever it pleases. Magic hat.))

#outofnoodles #my art #mun art #dei #dei the skull kid #persona #my persona #skull kid #transparent #imp #tp skull kid #twilight princess skull kid #skull kid twilight princess

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aurorasofdxstiny-blog · 8 years ago

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((addshgkjfgdgd This took forever omfg. Just mostly expressions and stuff of Green. Yeah I know some aren’t the best but Idc. Oh look there’s a drawing of how I currently feel in there too.))

#my art #deoxys #destiny deoxys #pokemon destiny deoxys #movie pokemon #green core deoxys #mythical pokemon #legendary pokemon #pokemon #expressions #my persona #dei #dei the skull kid #skull kid #skull kid tp #skull kid twilight princess #doodles

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datawyrms · 4 years ago

Text

Changed Hunt

For Phic Phight 2021! (not completely finished but AAAAfinshnowwww) lowkey Dannymay Day 2 Portal, as well

"That portal is awesome!" Sam says. "Would be so cool if it worked."

Danny goes down into the lab that night to try a few things—it doesn't quite go as he planned.(aka a no one knows au) (Dey’s prompt!)

Danny really wished Sam and Tucker had stayed a bit longer that day. With them around, maybe he wouldn’t have wandered in that portal like an idiot. In his own defense, how could he have known that little panel in there had been an on switch? Who’d put that inside a reality tearing portal device? Jack and Maddie Fenton, apparently. He was just lucky the thing hadn’t killed him! Or at least, managed to overdo it to the point he...survived somehow? He hadn’t really decided what that portal had done exactly. Waking in a pained heap, bathed in a haunting green glow from the now active portal was confusing enough. Looking up and seeing a stranger in the reflective panel nearby just made it worse. Of course he didn’t take it well, or know what to think. If he’d become a ghost, his parents would freak. Fixing their portal by turning into some...evil human hating creature probably wasn't in the plan. At least his terror somehow managed to get him to become human again. Heartbeat and everything. He hoped it had just been a weird one off, or he’d imagined it from trauma. Until he started falling through things. He died so hard that he got his life back? The portal only managed to kill half of him? He was dead but ‘imitating humans’ was his specialty? Some human that just got to use his ‘soul’ or whatever to be a ghost early? Sam and Tucker might have had guesses- but he knew one thing right away. Whatever happened, he wasn’t all human anymore. He couldn’t tell them. What if they decided that was just too weird? What if they blamed themselves for not being there- thought they’d killed him? It wasn’t worth the risk. Besides, he couldn’t let Mom and Dad find out, so he’d be trying to hide any of the new weirdness anyway. Might as well just always do it. Maybe the weird new abilities would just go away. They hadn’t. They just forced him to think about it to keep both feet on the ground. He could deal.

Until other ghosts started showing up. Ghosts that actually knew how to be ghosts, terrifying powers and all. Ghosts that seemed to know what he was. He’d nearly jumped out of his skin when a green woman in a hairnet tapped him on the shoulder and asked who ‘changed the menu’. There was a lot of screaming and running away at that, considering she was floating and well. Obviously some sort of dead person. Freaky Fenton attracts freaky ghosts. Of course. She didn’t buy his claim of not knowing why the menu wasn’t exactly the same as fifty years ago (why would he? That’s a lot of years!) and thought setting ovens on fire and throwing them at him was a fair answer! So apparently Mom and Dad were totally right about ghosts being completely terrifying monsters that he should run away from very quickly. Which he did. He only ran into two walls he meant to go through, even. Just more reasons to never, ever tell anyone he might be like that crazed ghost lady. Mom and Dad proving their inventions actually did work sometimes was just icing on the ‘i’m so screwed’ cake. Ghosts exist, they fought one, and the school got shuttered for a week from excessive damage via flying appliance. Fun.

It was dumb to pretend that was a one off thing. It was stupid to think he could keep hiding what happened that day. Even if it felt safer, even if he just wanted to keep denying the portal was open so she could keep pretending it hadn’t done anything to him. Maybe if someone knew, he wouldn’t be hopelessly trapped by a huge glowing robot. Running didn’t work on this one like it did the older ghost lady. He tried, he really did, but the self proclaimed hunter kept tracking him down. Even when he transformed into the strange ghost version of himself he failed to dissuade the robot. Punching metal still hurt as a ghost, and so did getting pelted with little missiles. So much for intangibility being an advantage.

“You’re lucky that you’re a rare creature, whelp. Otherwise I’d be disappointed by how little effort hunting you took.”

Great, flame head thought he was a disappointing freak. More pressing was the net the ghost had shot at him that he couldn’t struggle free of. Even drawing on his weird ghost side wouldn’t let him phase through it. “Pretty sure you can’t hunt endangered species!” He redoubled his effort as the ghost picked up the net, trying to trick himself that his swinging was making him feel ill, not the terror of being carried off by some monster that came through the portal just to hunt him down.

“Hah! If I didn’t take you ghost child, someone else would simply end you.” The blank green eyes stared into his own as the machine pulled him up higher. “You should be grateful to be part of my collection.”

Danny gulped, unsure if he should keep his attention on his captor or the fact they were getting closer to the swirling portal. “How about no thanks? Since you’re such a good samaritan and all. You can just let me go and forget all about uh...this.” Why couldn’t he just squeeze out of the net, or make the rest of him all weird like when his legs decided to vanish sometimes? Pulling with his gloved hands wasn’t working, and the glow just grew brighter as the lump in his throat got thicker. “Please? You already said I was weak, if you let me go I’ll be stronger next time!” Okay, it was a stupid plea but he’d try anything right now to not get dragged to some ghost world.

“I’m not a catch and release sort of hunter.” The ghost chuckled as his prey shrank back with the denial.

“How can you be the ‘Greatest’ hunter if you just go after kids, huh?” Begging wasn’t working, so maybe getting him angry? He couldn’t go through there, what if being on the other side made him more like this thing, or the other weird green monsters? “More like lamest hunter.”

“Oh you’ll see the sort of creatures I normally hunt, ghost child. Once you join them.” Skulker shook the net hard, rattling what little bravado Danny had managed to gather up right back out of him.

So much for that hope. “This has got to be a mistake, just let me go!” The ghost didn’t answer him, and he couldn’t help closing his eyes when the mechanical monster fired up a jetpack and flew through that portal. It wasn’t as cold as he feared it would be, it wasn’t like the void of space. Just as green as the portal, still a swirling background to everything. He swore he saw faces and doors, but couldn’t keep looking for long. The combined movement of being dragged along with the spinning energy was stomach churning enough, and he had to deal with the fact he didn’t know anything about this place. Even if this ghost decided to let him go, where would he go? Was there even anything to navigate with? He certainly didn’t see anything useful like stars. Would all this green stuff just soak into him and make him not want to find home? Nothing here made sense! It was easier to curl up instead of struggling with the net to stretch out, and the stupid ghost couldn’t see how the tears welled in his eyes as he struggled not to cry.

He should have been braver, should have tried to watch more, but it’d been too much. The crunch of metal against stone jarred him out of his silent self berating, just to be even more confused. He was on an island? That just floated, because islands did that here. Islands that had forests on them, that grew out of what looked like rock. Sure, okay. At least it was a bit of a distraction from the fact he was trapped by some evil robot in a completely different reality! Well. It had been. Seeing the fact the ghost lived in some weird stone skull jutting out of a mountain made him snort despite himself.

“You said my puns were bad, and you live in that thing?” He was pretty sure the green mohawk monster was Skull-something anyway. Mostly tuned it out after he kept repeating the ‘greatest hunter’ bit. “Ghost Zone’s Greatest Halloween Decoration’s a more fitting title.”

“For a terrified whelp, you are very chatty.”

“I think I looped around from terrified when I saw how doomed I am.” He was just joking. Totally. He wasn’t goofing around to try and fend off the engulfing panic of never getting home, nope. Absolutely not. He tried to pay attention to the strange ‘skull mountain house thing’, but the fact it reminded him more like a zoo inside wasn’t helping. Massive, monstrous glowing ghosts leering out and snapping as they passed, smaller sorts that didn’t even look up and several empty cages stained green was not calming his nerves. He couldn’t even describe some ghosts, being such a confusing jumble of parts that didn’t remind him of anything. All he could tell was robo-hunter probably didn’t have any willing guests. Unwilling guests that looked far, far more powerful than anything he could dream of trying. He was so, so doomed. To the point that being tossed roughly in a similar cage was almost a relief so he wasn’t right beside the ghost anymore.

First task was struggling free of the no longer glowing net (deactivated somehow? weird.) which wasn’t too hard, but just left him in his freaky ghost form, in a cage, in the middle of who knew where. The Ghost Zone, that’s what they kept calling it. Not Earth. Fantastic! That’s enough to get a C-, but not enough to get him out of this cage. Reaching through the bars was out, the unexpected shock had him rubbing his hand and grumbling to how having some invisible field between the bars was just unfair. At least let him see it before hurting him more. Now what? Grasping that feeling that let him walk through walls wasn’t letting him through the cage floor, just like how the net wouldn’t let him out. Floating just reminded him of getting dragged here. So that was it. Why did he have to get stupid dying powers? They didn’t even do anything useful!

Stressing out and not finding a way out was an exhausting way to spend a few hours. He kept thinking of new problems, like he didn’t have enough already. When the robot wandered past, he almost grabbed the bars to get closer. “Hey! Screw head!”

The ghost actually looked at him, the stern face looking more confused than anything.

“Yeah you! You know I’m gonna like, starve to death in here, right?” Danny had no idea how he was managing to say something he was very terrified of coming true like it was a joke. “Kind of a waste, don’t ya think?”

“You will be fine, ghost child. Your pleas for freedom won’t fool me.”

“Wanna bet? Maybe we’re so rare because we all starve to death in this dumb ghost world or whatever.” That and there probably weren’t too many people dumb enough to get shocked to...sort of death. “That and like, you’re some freaky machine man, you probably don’t know anything about eating to start with.”

Skulker kept staring at him, as if doing that would suddenly reveal all his secrets. “Well I prefer live specimens, but I suppose I could always do with another rug.”

Oh gross! “Seriously? Do I look like rug material to you?”

“Wall art?”

Yup, he was gagging now. The very idea a ghost would want to do that just made his spine want to shake right out of him with disgust. “I’d be way out of place, all of the other ghosts here look like animals! You’ll just gross all your hunter buddies out.” Maybe if he pretended to be some know it all like Jazz the ghost would...reconsider making him into wall art? Uurk. What was his life that he even needed to think that?

At least that got the metal monster pondering, massive hand scratching at his chin. “I do wonder if your pelt would only show half of your nature.”

“How about we don’t test that and say we did.” He’d seen some of the knives on the way in and did not want any of them near him thank you very much. Not that he had much of a choice- oh man he really, really did not want to learn why Sam hated the fur industry this way. “Pretty sure I’d just die. More. Or something.”

“Oh, but you’ve seen the other pelts on the way in. They’ve still got enough of a spark to not melt to nothing ghost child. I’m not that sloppy.”

Oh so he could be barely aware wall art. Even better! What would he do, skin him alive or just crush him? Both? “Humans don’t melt.” It was all he could think of blathering out. Don’t think about what the terrifying ghost guy can do Fenton, just don’t.

“True...unfortunately I don’t have another subject to test on.”

Score one for being a unique sort of freaky ghost kid. Maybe. “Soooo how about you just bring me back and rethink the whole uh. Hunting me thing.”

That just got Skulker laughing. “Not a chance whelp.”

“I’m not a whelp! I don’t even fit in with all your monster-things!” It had annoyed him, really. The other ghosts didn’t really...talk? “I’m not some animal!”

More chuckling, as if amused by a puppy chasing its tail. “Of course you are, with that stench of the human world on you.”

“You think I smell. With what nose, metalhead?”

“None of your business. Not to fear, any ghost here can tell you’re a hybrid. That human body you insist on wearing can be felt even when you’re in a superior form.”

Oh, was this a ghosts thinking humans were animals thing? Or was this a ghosts are kinda racist to different ghosts thing. Was there a difference? He probably should have paid more attention in civics. “Yeah well that ‘human body’ needs food.” He wasn’t even going to touch the idea that he was ‘wearing’ his own body, eeeeugh.

“I’ll figure out a solution to your hybrid failings, child. I won’t let a prize go that easily.”

Greeeeeeat.

#Danny Phantom #phic phight 2021 #dannymay2021 #skulker #unfinished im sorry fsljfsfs #i took longer writing then i meant to #but uh. i can use other prompts to finish #or something #i swear this was mostly meant to be funny but i didn't get to the funny bit yet

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kimtanathegeek · 4 years ago

Text

Two Brothers, Many Paths - Ch 18

Poor Sans... :( I wish I could just hug him... :(

Thanks for reading! :)

—

Undertale copyright Toby Fox

Story and original characters by me, Kimtana

Please do not use without both permission and credit.

Read below, or read it on AO3 here.

First

Sans sat on the edge of the bed staring at the wall across the room, his mind and anxiety racing. Should they leave immediately? If they do, where would they go? If the monsters were coming out of the cavern, they could go anywhere. Should they stay hidden in the shelter? Did he camouflage it well enough? They were growing a forest, what if they tried to clear the boulders from the valley to grow more trees? Even if their shelter was never discovered, what if they were while foraging for food?

He ran his trembling hands over his skull, completely overwhelmed. A deep sigh escaped his lungs, tinged with a panicked whine. He was at a complete loss as to what to do.

Papyrus sat on the end of the bed, giving Sans some space. He knew something was wrong when his brother looked scared after seeing the trees, then wanted to return to the shelter at once. Papyrus asked him a few times if he was ok, but Sans didn’t seem to hear him. A chill of fear went up the little skeleton’s spine, realizing something terrible must be happening to make his brother like this.

Papyrus nearly jumped out of his clothes when Sans suddenly gave an angry, frustrated groan that turned into a cry as his hands slammed down onto the bed by his sides. The little skeleton curled his knees up against his chest and hugged them, his body trembling fearfully. The last time he saw Sans this angry, it was because Sans couldn’t find their father in the cavern. The day he went to look for him by himself in the valley so his brother wouldn’t be so upset. The day he got lost in the snowstorm and—

Papyrus jumped in surprise when he noticed that Sans was looking at him. His anger was gone, and his face was now sad. Sans lifted his hand and beckoned his brother to come closer. The little skeleton uncurled himself and crawled slowly over to his brother, who had shifted himself to sit in the bed cross-legged. Papyrus climbed into his brother’s outstretched arms and lap, hugging him tightly. Sans wrapped his arms around his brother and felt him trembling.

“Sorry, Pap,” Sans whispered gently. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

He pulled out of the hug to face his brother, the little skeleton sliding back to sit in front of Sans. Papyrus’ eyes were brimming with tears. Sans rubbed the top of his brother’s skull gently, frowning as he sighed. As much as he wanted to keep his fears to himself to protect his little brother, he had to be honest with Papyrus. That was the mistake he’d made a hundred times before, and he had resolved to not suffer in silence anymore.

“It’s just...,” Sans began, unsure how to put his thoughts into words that wouldn’t scare Papyrus more. “The trees out there, they scared me. They are magic, and monsters make magic. So, monsters must have made the trees, and it scared me to see them....”

“Why?” Papyrus asked softly, his eyebrows contorted in confusion.

“Because...,” Sans answered, straining to keep the anxiety out of his voice. “We’ve been out here for a while, just you and me, right?”

“Mmhmm,” he nodded.

“But those trees mean we aren’t alone out here anymore.”

Papyrus tilted his head. “Why?”

Sans blinked. “B-because someone had to make the trees....”

“Yahbut, den dey go home,” Papyrus said.

Now it was Sans’ turn to tilt his head. “What?”

Papyrus turned his palms upward in his lap as he answered. “Mosters come out, make twees, den dey go home. S’too cold outside, dey not skeleytons like Sas an Pa. Dey make twees, go ‘Brr! Brr!’, den dey go home an get all warmed up! Dey not outside anymore, dey home. Dat why we don see mosters outside wif alla twees.”

Sans blinked. His brother’s logic was incredibly genius.

Of course they wouldn’t stick around out here. Few monsters could stand the cold like they could, so why would any of them stick around? And there weren’t any traces of others out there—no strange footprints near their shelter, no sounds, and no signs of movement. Maybe they just made the trees to cover the stone doorway from view in case any humans were still looking for them. Or maybe they made the forest to harvest the wood, which meant they’d be back out to collect it.

“But what if they go out to get the trees? What if they’re exploring to forage like we’re doing? What if they’re trying to find a way out of the mountain? What if they spot us?” Sans’ questions came out rapidly as his anxiety rose.

Papyrus thought for a moment before answering. “Dey not hurt us. Dey not yoomans.”

Sans’ voice trembled as he reached the main issue of his fears. “No, they won’t hurt us. But, Pap, they will separate us, remember?! I will lose you! We’ll be split up, and I’ll lose you....”

Sans felt hot tears he didn’t mean to shed fall down his eyes into his lap.

Papyrus put his little hands on his brother’s and looked up into his eyes. “Den we leave an come back here.”

“H-how?!” Sans’ sobbed, his anxiety making his voice crack up high. Why wasn’t his brother taking this more seriously?

“If mosters make twees, door mus open,” Papyrus answered matter-of-factly. “If mosters take us, we go out door an leave. Come back home here.”

“Pap,” Sans whined in frustration, burying his eyes in his sleeves to dry his tears. “It’s not that easy! We can’t just walk out the front door! There will be guards there, they aren’t going to let two little kids wander out of the cavern. And that door is the only exit—the tunnel’s closed off, remember? So how are we gonna get home?! We can’t just snap our fingers and—”

Sans froze. He stared ahead in realization, his eyes growing wide.

There was another way.

“Actually...,” he said slowly, returning his eyes back to Papyrus’. “You know how you found out that you could do healing magic by accident when you were trying to save me?”

Papyrus answered with a nod.

“Well, I found out that I could do a new kind of magic, too.”

Papyrus’ eyebrows raised in awe. “Gween?”

Sans shook his head. “No, not green. And what’s interesting is that I first did it when I was trying to save you. I can instantly be somewhere else.”

The confusion on the little skeleton’s face coaxed Sans to elaborate.

“Ok, so, remember that place where we found the mouseshroom nightlights?”

“Yeah?” Papyrus answered, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, I could go there right now. And then come right back here.”

Papyrus’ eyes widened and he gasped in awe. “Wowie!”

“Yeah!” Sans grinned, his fears slipping away. “And I already know that I can take you with me, so if we get caught, I just need to find you, hang on to you, and take us right back here!”

Papyrus raised his arms up above his head in triumph. “Yeah!”

Sans smiled down at his brother, feeling much better having a solid exit plan. He was so glad he talked this out with his brother, even though he was so young.

“And,” Sans continued, following the trail of optimism. “We may not even need to worry about that. You’re right, why would they be out here in the cold with us, when they have their nice, warm cavern to live in? And even if they do come out, we can be careful about walking around, look for any of their footprints, and keep an eye out for them. We know they’re in there, but they don’t know we are out here. And if they try to chase us, I’ll bring us somewhere safe in an instant.”

Papyrus nodded emphatically. “Yup!”

Sans leaned over and hugged his brother. “Thank you so much, Pap. You made me feel so much better. I’m not as scared and worried anymore.”

His brother hugged back tightly. “Welcome, Sas. Pa potec Sas. No scayerd, no wowwied no more.”

Sans nuzzled in to the side of Papyrus’ head, grateful to have such a smart, positive, and wonderful brother.

Over the next several days, the brothers didn’t leave the shelter, unless it was to retrieve snow. Sans wanted to get steadier on his feet before they attempted going outside again in case they were seen and they needed to run. So he spent the days exercising and strengthening his weakened limbs.

He started off by walking circles around the main room, first with Papyrus holding him to support him, then, when he was stronger, on his own. Aside from walking, he took time to strengthen his limbs with squats, lunges, pushups, and dips—exercises he had learned by watching their mother do her morning routine to keep in Royal Guard shape. As he did his workouts several times a day, Papyrus would copy his movements, and Sans couldn’t help but smile.

But Papyrus’ favorite exercise was Sans’ weight training—because he was the weight. Sans would lay on his back, and Papyrus would stand in front of his knees. Sans would then curl up and grab Papyrus’ outstretched hands and rock onto his back, bringing his brother up over him, suspended on his knees and hands. The little skeleton couldn’t help but giggle as he was held up in the air looking down at his brother. Sans would then lower his legs and arms, bringing Papyrus close to him, then pushed back up, raising the squealing skeleton. Sans would start counting as he grunted, then Papyrus would take up the counts each time he rose into the air, giggling with each number.

Sans felt so much better after his workouts, he decided that, even after he had strengthened his limbs back to normal, he would continue doing workouts with his brother to keep their bones strong. A morning routine, just like their mother’s.

About a week after they spotted the forest, Sans felt strong enough to attempt a trip outside to explore the forest near the cavern. He especially wanted to check for any footprints that strayed from the line of trees towards other parts of the valley—especially any that ventured in the direction of their shelter.

He emptied out the haversack onto the floor, put away any items that would be damaged by sitting in the snow, and shouldered it while Papyrus put on his shoes. Sans debated on whether or not he should go without the haversack, in case they needed to make a run for it, but in the end decided to bring it in case they came upon something useful to forage.

They exited the shelter and covered up the entrance, then Sans peered around, eyes straining for any signs of movement. When there was none, he led Papyrus away from the shelter in the opposite direction of the cavern. He wanted to make a wide circle around so that if they were spotted, they looked as if they had come from the darkened area at the edge of the valley, and not from where their shelter was located. They hid behind every boulder and stone formation they came across, making sure the coast was clear before moving swiftly to the next.

Slowly, Sans started headed towards the cavern. They crept cautiously towards the edge of the line of white pines, and as they approached, Sans realized that the forest was split down the middle by the torch-lit path. On either side, the forest was roughly thirty to forty trees thick, densely packed.

Not wanting to get caught walking down the path, Sans led Papyrus to the edge of the forest on the opposite side of the trail that their shelter was on, taking every precaution to keep their home location hidden. They slipped into the trees, careful to weave between the tall trunks. They didn’t need to worry about disrupting any branches—the trees had been created to branch out much higher up the trunk than normal pines. This confirmed for Sans that they needed these trees for their wood, not for cover.

They crept cautiously, peeking behind every tree as they neared the cavern’s door. Sans kept glancing at the torch-lit trail, noticing that there were no tracks in the snow that had accumulated on the path. This brought him much relief—perhaps creating these trees was the only reason they had ventured out of the cavern after all.

Sans was peeking around a tree when he felt his brother tug the hand he was holding. A chill of fear ran up Sans’ spine as he whipped around to his brother in panic. Papyrus pointed over at the forest floor wordlessly, and Sans breathed a huge—yet silent—sigh of relief.

On the ground were a couple pine cones. Sans rubbed the top of Papyrus’ head to let him know that he had made a great find—pine cones meant pine nuts. However, Sans was at a loss as to where to stow them—pine cones also meant sticky pine sap. He couldn’t risk putting them in either of their bags, since the sap would be impossible to get out of the fabric, so he racked his brain for an idea.

After much thought, he created several small loose white bones and tied them with twine, fashioning a small crate. They quickly gathered the pine cones, carefully placing them in the crate, straining not to make a sound. They continued their way through the thin forest, collecting cones along the way and checking for any signs of life.

Eventually they neared the cavern door, its purple door and violet frame slowly coming into view through the thick mass of trees. Sans slowed their already cautious pace to an inching creep as they proceeded further.

At last they were upon the cavern entrance, and Sans was extremely relieved to see that not only were there no tracks leading from the doors, but there was a large amount of snow blown up against the cavern entrance. This told Sans that, aside from making the forest, the door hadn’t been opened in a long while, perhaps only the once during Sans’ recovery.

Sans led Papyrus up to the cavern, and they walked across to the other side of the trail, hugging the cavern wall and doors. As terrifying as it was to walk past doors that could swing open at any moment, Sans knew that if they walked against the wall and doors, the doors would obliterate their footprints when they opened again.

Once they had entered the forest on their shelter’s side of the path, they continued through the forest, collecting cones as they went, their pace much faster. Sans kept a constant eye over his shoulder for any movement, but the lack of footprints and high snow mound against the door helped ease his fear of any monsters being in the vicinity.

As soon as they reached the end of the forest, they hurried over to hide behind a boulder, then made their way back to the shelter in a large circle around it, running from boulder to boulder as they progressed.

After a long while, they reached their shelter. Sans felt so much better after exploring the forest and seeing the entrance with his own eyes. Papyrus closed up the entrance as Sans pushed the crate of pine cones through.

They had collected quite a lot, and even though Sans knew this kind of pine cone didn’t produce as big or as many pine nuts as other pine trees, they would still be a great addition to their diminishing food stocks.

He took the crate into the fire room, created a few long loose white bones, and lined the bones on the left edge of the fire basin. He placed the pine cones on the new platform of bones so that they could dry out in the heat of the fire. Then he took a handful of snow and held it over the basin to melt so that he could wash away the sticky sap from his hands. He made the crate’s bones disappear and coiled up the twine, returning it to the haversack pocket.

Papyrus was sitting on the bed, his scarf, shoes, and bag still on, waiting for his brother.

“Ok,” Sans said as he shouldered the haversack again. “We’re going to need to get more mushrooms, and maybe check out more of that area. I’m going to take us there with my new magic so that we get there real quick, ok?”

Papyrus nodded, jumping off the bed. “Yup!”

“Alright,” Sans said, taking hold of Papyrus’ hand and grinning. “Let’s go.”

Sans shut his eyes and—

—the crash, the sound of his skull crushing, blinding pain, darkness, excruciation, fear, utter agony, the cave floor, shattered bones, his crumpled body, his fading soul.

He flinched violently, screaming out. “No! No!”

Sans let go of Papyrus to grab his skull as he shouted, his eyes shut tight, tears springing from them, his face contorted in pain. Every few seconds, his head jerked to the side as if being struck.

Papyrus stood there, looking up at his brother in fear. What was happening to him?

Sans collapsed to his knees, still screaming and flinching, then fell upon his side, curling up as he kept clutching his skull tightly.

Papyrus was at his side in an instant, desperate to help, but had no idea what to do. He put his hands on his brother’s arm, trying to comfort him.

“Sas...?”

Sans didn’t respond, but instead curled up tighter into himself, crying out as his head jerked to the side every few moments.

“No! No!” he shouted at the top of his lungs.

Papyrus started to cry as he struggled to calm his brother down. Something was scaring him, hurting him, or both.

“Sas, Sas!” he sobbed, putting his hands over those of his brother’s clutching his skull. “Sas, wass wron?! Sas!”

Suddenly, Sans’ body relaxed, and he was no longer screaming out. He let go of his head, his arms falling down limp as his body heaved, gasping for breath. He slowly opened his eyes and blinked, sweat pouring down his temples.

Papyrus knelt down in front of him, putting his hands back on his brother’s skull and his face close to his own.

“Sas...,” the little skeleton called, tearfully.

It took a moment for Sans to focus his vision, then he looked at Papyrus with his own tear-filled eyes.

“P-Papyrus...?” he whispered, still out of breath, staring at him as if he hadn’t seen him in years.

“Sas, wass wron?” Papyrus sobbed. “Wass wron, Sas?”

“Wh-where am I?” Sans gasped, eyes darting around the room.

“Sas, we home,” the little skeleton answered, concern pouring out with his tears. Why was he asking where he was? Didn’t he know?

Sans looked around, struggling to catch his breath, then pressed the bottoms of his palms into his eyes. He was so confused and terrified. He struggled to regain his focus.

Then he remembered. He wasn’t in the cave, he was at the shelter. His body wasn’t broken, it had healed. He wasn’t dying alone, he was safe with Papyrus.

Papyrus!

He moved his hands from his eyes and looked up. When he saw Papyrus in front of him, he lifted himself up to his knees and threw his arms around his precious brother, hugging him so tight against him, Papyrus felt his bones pop. Sans sobbed into his brother’s shoulder, his body trembling, afraid to let go of Papyrus as if he would disappear.

Papyrus stood, stunned by the sudden, crushing embrace. He couldn’t move his arms, so he gently nuzzled his head against his brother’s, still immensely worried about what had happened to him.

Soon, Sans calmed down, returning to the present. He let go of Papyrus and sat back on his legs, burying his face in his hands.

“I-I’m so sorry,” he stammered. “I don’t know...I don’t know what happened to me....”

Papyrus stood in front of him, helplessly, drying his own tears on his sleeves.

Sans lowered his hands from his face to look at his brother. “Th-that magic.... When I found out I could do it, I tested it.... Where I was able to go.... A-and th-then...I...I tried...to go home...our real home.... And—”

—the crash, his skull crushing, his bones breaking, the agony.

Sans’ head jerked violently to the side again, his eyes shut tight as he screamed once more.

“No!”

He turned his head forward again, gasping for breath. He was trembling again, a chill running through his body. His eyes opened wide, darting around the room.

Papyrus was wringing his hands, his lower lip quivering. He didn’t know if touching Sans made his pain or fear worse, so he remained frozen on the spot.

Sans shifted, moving his legs out from under him to sit on the floor as he strove to calm down. He unshouldered the haversack and pushed it away in an effort to unburden himself as much as he could.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he repeated, still panting for air. “Something’s wrong with me....”

Papyrus crept over silently and sat next to his brother, putting a trembling hand on Sans’ knee. Sans looked down at him and covered his hand with his own.

A terrifying realization sank into his soul. He shuddered, then leaned forward, putting his other hand on the floor to hold him up.

“The magic we need...if we get caught...taken to the cavern...separated.... I...I can’t do it anymore.... I can’t do the magic anymore....”

#undertale #undertale fanfic #undertale fanfiction #sans #papyrus #sans and papyrus #sans undertale #papyrus undertale #skelebros #babybones #TBMP #TwoBrothersManyPaths #Two Brothers Many Paths

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solaneceae · 6 years ago

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MFKZ OS 9 : Precious

“- A double burg for table 2! Get moving!

- Yessir!”

Greasy fumes filled the parlor, the kind that made you want to wash your face off after a few seconds of exposure. The tenacious smell of old cooking oil that used to make him gag was now a minor inconvenience at worst. Wiping the sweat off his brow, Vinz carefully flipped the patties over; it’d been a while since he burned something during his shift, and he intended to ride his lucky streak as long as he could.

His boss looked up from the counter to peek at his work, while his hands kept on chopping onions and tomatoes like they had a mind of their own. He nodded in approval. “You’re getting better at this. Maybe with some luck you’ll actually cook something edible every time!” the dago smirked.

The hothead rolled his eyes; he knew Pipo’s little jabs at his cooking skills weren’t mean-spirited in any way -heck, he kinda deserved them after charring his first three pans way back when- but still, he was doing his best! “Well, maybe I will if you stop distracting me...”

Pipo laughed. “No can do, boy. You gotta learn how to multitask if you wanna keep this job.” He jerked his head towards his own worktop: he’d already filled a bowl to the brim with vegetables while the two talked. “You want to be able to get chummy with the customers while you make their damn food, y’know. S’important.”

Vinz nodded, hesitantly, before focusing back on the cooking meat; Pipo had been running his joint for a long time, suffice to say he was damn good at his job. But Vinz? Oooh boy, that was another story.

He’d applied for dozens of jobs over the years. Anything from bartending to bouncing (and yes, he only tried that because he thought his face would scare troublemakers away. It didn’t.), but it always ended the same way: with him getting fired (heh) over something dumb. Like he was cursed. That or he was just that incompetent at everything, but Vinz didn’t like to dwell on that particular trail of thought. Not without Lino to snap him out of it.

The hothead ignored the little coil in his chest that often accompanied the thought of his best friend, and lifted up the pan to shake the steaks around. Self-loathing issues aside, the question still stood: why hadn’t Pipo let him go, after so many instances of property damage and accidental almost-arson? And why would the guy even hire a walking fire hazard in the first place, when he could obviously handle everything himself?

“Because you applied and no-one else did.” his boss’ disinterested voice rang.

The skeleton almost dropped the pan, his yellow eyes reduced to mere pinpricks in his black sclerae. Shit, fuck, I said that out loud. He turned to Pipo, but the older man wasn’t even looking at him, merely chopping away on a wooden plank. Huh. Maybe he could finally ask what had been weighing on his mind for a while, maybe Pipo wouldn’t mind.

“I mean…” he began, scratching the back of his skull. “Sure, that’s a given. But I applied, like, four times here, and you always said you didn’t need any extra help. So what made you change your mind?”

Not your amazing skills or good looks, that's for sure, his brain stated. Shut the fuck up, Vinz replied. Unhelpful piece of shit.

Pipo shrugged. “Like I said, you were the only one who bothered applying. And after the uh, incident a few months back, my view on things kinda changed. Get those off the stove if you don’t want them to dry out.”

Vinz hurriedly got the meat off the heat -there he was, getting distracted again- and started gathering some condiments. “Sorry boss. Uh, the incident? What incident?”

“You know, typical DMC shit. Some shady men-in-black ripoffs came in one evening and told me to uh, ‘take a hike if I wanted to stay alive’.”

Pipo’s brow furrowed at the memory. “They uh, had guns. So I didn’t ask any questions and fucked off for the night. Came back the day after to see the whole place smashed, broken tables and cut marks everywhere.”

Vinz didn’t respond. He knew exactly what had happened that night. Flashes of phantom pain pulsed in his throat, images of a dark, nightmarish creature slamming Angelino against the ceiling bubbling to the forefront of his mind. Ugh. Sorry about that Pipo.

“Let’s just say,” the chef continued, “that my priorities changed that day. I wanted to spend more time with my daughter, y’know? She barely sees her old man already, so if this fucked up city decided to off me one of those days…”

He turned to look at Vinz, a shadow of a fond smile on his chiselled face. “That’s why I hired your ass. To get some pressure off my back. If by some miracle I can make a decent cook outta you, I could entrust the joint to you for a few hours a day.”

If Vinz still had his lower jaw, it would’ve fallen off by now. Did he hit his head on a shelf at some point? Had Pipo... just said he wanted him to run the place on his own during his shifts?

That. That was new. Someone other than his roommate was beginning to put a smidge of trust in him and he wasn’t sure how to handle it.

“...You have a kid?” he managed to utter. That wasn’t what he planned on asking at all, but then again his thinkpan was a bit jumbled at the moment. The italian smiled more broadly, a forlorn look in his eyes. “Aye. Chiara, la luce dei miei occhi. She’s the most precious thing I’ll ever have in this life.” He glanced back at the food and started to stack the ingredients on a plate, gesturing at Vinz to pass him the cooked ground meat. “When you have someone like that, a person you want to protect with all you have? Gives you a reason to get up in the morning. Keep going.”

Vinz tilted his head to the side, blinking.

Strangled gasps and muffled screaming, strained breathing and anguished whimpers, feverish mumblings and howls of pain. Tearful, guilt-ridden black eyes and equally black skin, bruised and bloody. Crimson patches in pure white snow.

No more no more please stop for the love of god stopstopstop he’s going to die stop-

He shook his head, his flames turning to a soft green. “Yeah. I know the feeling.”

A new sense of comprehension settled between the two, Pipo nodded and handed the now filled plate to the hothead. “I’m sure you do. Now get out there and bring this guy his food before he starts bitching.”

***

Angelino gaped. That wasn’t how his day was supposed to go. He barely registered the truck driver spewing profanities at him -nothing he hadn’t heard before- as he tried to understand what just happened.

So he’d been distracted, sue him for browsing funny memes to forget about how shitty life was in general (“News flash: we’re millennials, we all crave the sweet release of death.”), and he hadn’t registered the truck until he was in the middle of the road. At this point, all he’d been able to think was “Again?” as the 3-ton metal box on wheels came at him, too close and too fast. Oh, the sense of imminent doom and terror did reach him eventually, but something real fucking weird had happened before he could act on it.

The truck just kinda… stopped a few feet from him. Pretty violently too, if the huge, circular dent on the front of the truck and the driver’s broken nose were anything to go by.

And that was good, he was definitely glad about not dying to that asshat. Problem was, he hadn’t seen the thing the dude slammed his semi into. There was just…nothing there.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true, he did see some weird shimmer around him at the moment of impact, but it was probably the heat of the air around the motor… right?

Speaking of heat… as the driver stomped away from him, huffing slurs and flipping him off, the hybrid felt something on his right leg. It wasn’t quite burning, but close enough to be uncomfortable. Lino frowned, carefully reaching into his pocket, and blinked owlishly when he came up with a familiar white slip of paper.

One of Vinz’ little magic sigil thingies. But it’s burning. And- okay, yes, that thing is definitely glowing, he observed. “...What the fuck is happening.”

As if on cue, the symbol -something about protection, he remembered- glowed brighter for a second… before it disappeared completely, the slip of paper turning to ash in his palm. At the same time in a different part of DMC, a flaming skeleton nearly passed out in sudden exertion with no clue as to why.

Angelino only stared as the wind scattered it. He glanced at the damaged truck, back to his empty hand. Then he groaned. “Are you fucking serious-”

He was not telling Vinz, or he’d never hear the end of it.

oh my god i wrote this in one setting at 2am why *passes out*

#mutafukaz #mfkz #angelino #vinz #vingelino

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enrinkari · 6 years ago

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Ambush

Note: YUP MORE TYRAJIN SHIT FUCK YOU.

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

Tyrathan was never a fan of the holiday Love is in the Air. It felt very fake and way too commercial for his liking. He participated in it, of course. His ex-wife and kids had loved the holiday, and he loved to see them happy, so he did it for them. Now, however, he was wishing the whole holiday would disappear.

"I don't be seein' why ya be actin' like this, love," Vol'jin sighed. They were in the throne room in Orgrimmar, Vol'jin sitting and Tyrathan standing far away, back turned to Vol'jin. "Ya know dese necklaces be meanin' nuthin' but a means for dese adventurers to get some of da tokens da vendor be needin'." Right as he finished saying this, a group of three female trolls came in to deliver their necklaces, giggling and blushing as they handed them to Vol'jin. One of them even blew him a kiss as they ran out, laughing at each other.

"Oh yeah, they seemed to be here just for the tokens," Tyrathan huffed. He didn't like that he felt jealous. He knew Vol'jin would never leave him, but he had also thought that about his ex-wife. "I'm going to go shoot at targets. i'll be back later." He stormed out of the building before Vol'jin could say anything, leaving the troll feeling very confused and, honestly, a little hurt.

When Vol'jin could finally get away from the adventurers a few hours later, he went immediately to the practice range. However, no one there had seen Tyrathan that day. Walking around the city, no one else had remembered seeing him. Starting to panic, Vol'jin went to their private dorm. Tyrathan wasn't there, but a note was.

Dearest Vol'jin,

I do apologize for how I acted today. This holiday just isn't a good holiday for me for various reasons. As such, I will be away on a hunt for the remainder of the holiday. Please know it has nothing to do with you, and I will return. I just need some alone time.

Yours eternally,

Tyrathan

Vol'jin felt his heart drop. Two weeks without his human? That was the longest they've been apart since they reunited after Vol'jin became Warchief. What was bothering Tyrathan so much, and why couldn't he talk to Vol'jin about it? Vol'jin flopped face down on their bed and sighed. His human was so confusing sometimes.

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

Fwoosh.

The sound of his arrow flying through the air towards his target was always music to Tyrathan's ears. The death squeal of the basilisk that the arrow hit was like a symphony. He walked over to his kill and started to skin it. He could sell both the skin and the meat for a decent price back in Orgrimmar.

It had been a week since Tyrathan fled to be alone, and while his heart ached to be back by Vol'jin's side, he knew it was better if he was away. Being alone also gave him time to try to sort through his issues and try to convince himself that what had happened to him before would never happen again with Vol'jin.

The snapping of a branch brought him back to reality. There was nothing - and no one - in sight, which made the snapping even more suspicious. Focusing intently, he silently drew his bow and let out an arrow. It landed in the arm of a stealthed Gurubashi troll, causing him to break out of stealth and cry out in pain. Tyrathan's eyes narrowed. He was about to be ambushed. Quickly he turned around and let loose another arrow, this time into the throat of another troll. Breaking their stealth, five other trolls ran towards Tyrathan, weapons at the ready. Tyrathan quickly sent arrows their way, and a few found homes in the trolls' bodies, but it didn't slow them down. One was quicker than the rest and raised his club up high, ready to smash Tyrathan's head in. He shot an arrow at the troll's feet, causing the troll to jump over it, surprised. As the troll was in the air, Tyrathan bent down and caught the troll with his shoulder. He then flipped the troll over his back and the troll landed with a thud. Tyrathan stabbed him in the neck with an arrow, taking care of one of his attackers.

The other four, now a little wary of this hunter with close combat moves, still charged at him but as one unit now. Tyrathan gave a leap backwards, firing off four more arrows in quick succession. Three of them landed in the legs of three different trolls and they stumbled to the ground screaming. As Tyrathan landed, however, his bad leg gave out and he rolled on the ground a few feet. When he finally stopped and tried to pick himself back up, he had just enough time to look up before the last troll brought his club down on head, knocking him out cold.

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

It had been a restless week for Vol'jin. Sleeping without Tyrathan by his side didn't feel right, and when he could sleep, he had nightmares constantly. Either Tyrathan was leaving him for good, or Tyrathan hated him, or worst of all, Tyrathan was dead. However he had to keep a happy face on for the adventurers. Walking towards the throne room, he rubbed his face with his hands. Just one more week of this. He could do it.

"My my my, someone been missin' dey beauty sleep," he heard a voice laugh behind him. Vol'jin knew that voice. He stopped walking and quickly turned around. "Bwonsamdi, wat you be doin' 'ere?"

"Can't I check up on one of my favorite trolls?" Bwonsamdi smiled. The smile gave Vol'jin the shivers.

"I not be dyin' today, Bwonsamdi, so ya should be gettin' back to wherever ya should be."

Bwonsamdi shook his head. "Vol'jin, do ya remember our last meetin'?" How could Vol'jin forget it. He had begged Bwonsamdi to return Tyrathan to the living world after the human sacrificed himself to save Vol'jin. "What I be tellin' ya dat day?" Bwonsamdi continued. "Dat it wasn't forever, right?" Bwonsamdi gave off a low laugh. "I wish I had known that ya not be keepin' him that long or else I might 'ave said no!"

Vol'jin looked at Bwonsamdi confused for a few seconds before he understood what the Loa of Death meant. He felt his whole body grow cold and felt his heart fall into his stomach. "Tyrathan..." he whispered softly.

"Oh don't be crying now, mon," Bwonsamdi teased, walking over to Vol'jin and putting an arm around him. "Your human not be dead yet. But he's almost there, and well... I be waiting for 'im." Bwonsamdi laughed again, but then yelped when Vol'jin held him against the wall by his neck.

"WHERE BE TYRATHAN?!" Vol'jin roared at him, his eyes almost glowing red with anger. "IF YOU NOT BE TELLIN' ME AND HE ENDS UP DEAD I SWEAR I WILL PERSONALLY END YOU MYSELF BWONSAMDI!"

For the first time in maybe ever, the Loa was scared. "Okay, okay, mon! I be telling you! Just don't be hurting my face! That's my money maker!" Vol'jin slowly put Bwonsamdi down, but stayed glaring at him. "He be in the Stranglethorn Vale. Look, I'll open a gate there, but that's it. Up to ya if he dies." He raised up a death gate from the ground. Vol'jin shot one last dirty look at Bwonsamdi and went through the gate.

-----------

Tyrathan's head was pounding as he slowly came to. He heard voices talking in Zandali, and decided to keep his eyes closed so they would think he was still out cold.

<I've always wanted to see what human tasted like...>

<You're always hungry! Stop thinking with your stomach for once!>

<Hey, wait a minute guys. I think I recognize this one.>

<What?! Really?!>

<Yeah! I bet we could use him to get anything we wanted out of Vol'jin!>

<You will NOT harm Vol'jin,> Tyrathan mumbled. He had no strength to fight, but he would do what he could to prevent them from hurting his troll.

<Whoa! He can speak our language!> One of the trolls walked over to Tyrathan. <I can't believe Vol'jin's pet knows so many tricks. Maybe he also knows how to sleep.> The troll punched Tyrathan in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him and causing him to pass out again.

-----

The death gate had put Vol'jin at the sight of Tyrathan's attack. He couldn't help but be a little proud that his human had gotten some of his attackers, but he knew he didn't get all of them. He growled when he noticed they were Gurubashi. He wanted to wipe them all out here and now, but he had to first focus on getting Tyrathan back. He got down on his knees and began to "pray," as Tyrathan called it. <Gonk, the great hunter Loa. Please hear my plea. Help me track down and hunt the ones who took my mate from me. Help me save him.> Almost instantly he could feel Gonk give him a boost in power. He could see the way the trolls had taken Tyrathan. He began to run in that direction, hoping he wouldn't be too late.

He found them around a campfire in some ruins. There were five of them, though one of them was still healing a wound in his arm. He looked around and saw Tyrathan, tied up and on the ground, unconscious and breathing fast. Vol'jin tried to control his rage and think of a plan, but then he saw one of the trolls kick Tyrathan in the stomach, causing blood to come out of his mouth. Vol'jin felt the anger overtake him, and he roared, running into the camp faster than a troll should, eyes red with rage.

The five trolls jumped to attention, but before they could even think about what was happening, Vol'jin threw his spear at one with such speed it went thru him and pierced his heart, killing him instantly. The one closest to the now dead troll watched his buddy fall and turned back to face Vol'jin, but Vol'jin grabbed his head and slammed it into the ground, shattering his skull. He then turned to the other three and roared again, more animal than troll.

The three slowly started to back up, too afraid to run but afraid of staying too. One of them had Tyrathan's bow and quiver, and shot an arrow at Vol'jin. The arrow hit him in the chest, but he just pulled it out. <YOU DARE USE HIS WEAPONS?! YOU DARE HURT MY MATE?!?!> Vol'jin threw the arrow back at the troll, hitting him in the eye. Vol'jin used the distraction to run and remove his spear from the first troll's corpse. As the troll pulled the arrow out of his eye, Vol'jin slashed his throat open and watched the troll quickly bleed out.

The other two decided now would be the best time to run away. Vol'jin wouldn't allow them to, however. He tackled one of them and easily ripped his head off. He threw the head at the other head, knocking him down. Before he could get up, Vol'jin was on top of his, squeezing his throat and choking him. <WHEN YOU SEE BWONSAMDI, TELL HIM HE'S NOT IN THE CLEAR YET,> Vol'jin growled as he squeezed the troll's throat tighter and tighter until the troll no longer moved. Vol'jin stood up straight and roared, ready to kill the rest of the Gurubashi.

"Vol...jin..." he heard Tyrathan call out softly and all his anger, all his strength was gone. He quickly ran over to Tyranthan and carefully picked him up. His human was still breathing fast, but at least he was breathing. "Vol'jin...I'm..."

"Hush now, mon. Save what energy ya can," Vol'jin whispered, running a hand gently down Tyrathan's face. "You're okay now. We'll get ya to a nearby camp and then get ya home and 'eal up, okay?" Tyrathan nodded his head slightly before he lost consciousness again. Vol'jin held him tight and ran to the nearest camp. He had to get Tyrathan healed soon or Bwonsamdi would be getting six souls from the Stranglethorn Vale.

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This didn't feel like the afterlife. If it was, the afterlife felt like a giant bed. He slowly opened his eyes and realized he wasn't dead, but in his bed in Orgrimmar. He slowly sat up, then winced in pain. His head was still killing him, along with his stomach and leg. But he was alive. He looked around the room and saw that it was covered in the necklaces from the holiday. He picked up the closest one and his eyes got wide. It was for him from Vol'jin. Looking at the others that were close to him, they were also to him from Vol'jin. He guessed that his troll had made all of them for him. He went to get up but gasped at the pain in his body.

He heard frantic footsteps running towards the door, and it swung open revealing a very worried looking Vol'jin standing there, staring at him. Before Tyrathan could say a single word, Vol'jin rushed to his size and embraced him with a hug that was so tight Tyrathan thought he was going to break in half. "Tyrathan, ya okay!" The troll buried his head in Tyrathan's neck, and Tyrathan felt tears starting to fall from Vol'jin's eyes. "I thought I be losin' ya for good dis time. I be so worried. I... I...."

Tyrathan hugged Vol'jin back, rubbing his troll's back to calm him down. "It's okay Vol'jin. I'm okay, thanks to you. Once again you saved me."

After what seemed like an eternity, they let go of each other, but Vol'jin kept a tight grip on Tyrathan's hand. "Why ya be leavin'? Why can't ya talk ta me about it? Did I do sometin' wrong?"

Tyrathan shook his head. "Of course not. I just..." He sighed. "I am afraid you are going to realize one day that you are too good for me and I'm going to lose you. I've been left once before. That plus the fact this holiday has memories attached to her and my kids, and I just was a mess I guess. I knew it would be better if I was away." He chuckled. "At least I thought it would be better."

Vol'jin pulled Tyrathan into another embrace, but was more gentle this time. "Ya shouldn't be thinkin' like that. I be not too good for ya. Ya be too good for me! But I would never, and will never, leave ya, Tyrathan." He softly gazed into Tyrathan's eyes. "You be my home. My mate. And not even da loas themselves will keep me from being with ya."

Tyrathan snuggled into his troll and sighed happily. "Oh," he said suddenly. "What is with all these necklaces?"

Vol'jin smiled. "I be wantin' to show ya how much I care about ya'. I made dem all myself. And even though dere be many, it still not be enough to show ya' how much I love ya. I just ran out of supplies."

Tyrathan gave Vol'jin a kiss, which the troll returned with a hunger. "With necklace to token conversion, I think you have enough here for a mount. What do you say?" Vol'jin didn't say anything, he just began to kiss Tyrathan all over. His human was so confusing at times, but he loved every minute of it.

#tyrajin #World of Warcraft #enrin's writing #Vol'jin #tyrathan #tyrathan khort #I'M SUCH TRASH JUST KILL ME

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