#just do silly little things trying something new

[giirlblood]

caregiver ! vi headcanons !!

requested by @themoondropcollective . spinning around because i LAUV vi , he's one of my own fictional cgs (>/////< " ) . butch cg for eensy butch !! i refer to vi with he / him pronouns .. you can pry tmasc butch vi from my cold dead hands . it brings me comfort as a fellow trans butch to see someone like me :3 .. if you'd prefer other pronouns let me know but i default to he for him . that being said my vi is not a binary man pronouns do not equal gender :L .

vi is the silliest caregiver ever !! more like an older sibling in the sense that he doesn't have lots of rules && can't help but giggle when you get into mischief . he calls you lots of silly nicknames like nugget , bug , && squirt !! he teases you by calling you tiny sometimes as a nickname too but it always comes with a chuckle && a hair tousle .

while its my truth that vi is transmasculine he loves being called "mama" by his littles . you also call him "bubba" but he always melts when someone calls him "mama" or just "ma" . he does Not like being called mommy though . he's also okay with more masculine names like "papa" or "dada" as well && responds better to daddy than mommy though it's not preferred .

always telling you stories !! some of them are made up but a lot of them are about his life . he often gets lost in his tales but you hang onto his every last word .

loves to teach you new things . these little lessons often come with a little story of his own !! he notices you giggling && bites back a laugh of his own . " mama's silly , huh squirt." teaches you how to throw a punch but also about little everyday things like tying your shoes .

SOOOO protective .. literally your guard dog , he will not hesitate to throw a punch or clap back verbally if someone poses a threat to you . king of glares too , he scares away aaallll the meanies . always holding your hand && proudly calling you his little one . he often has his hand on your shoulder as a way to reassure you he's there for back up .

always including your stuffies in everything , he's so playful with them !! if you're sad he'll have them talk to you in silly voices to cheer you up && he has little conversations with them to make you giggle . sometimes he can't help but crack up himself .

he lets you play with his hair && put little clips in it . you love his hair soo much , the color is so AWESOME !! when his hair is longer he lets you style it however you like .

on the topic of hair he loves washing yours . it's super soothing for him && makes him feel closer to you . it's something so intimate that he treasures , running his hands through your hair , doing his best to learn all he can about how to take care of it if you have more kinky hair so he can meet all of your needs .

he's super good at braiding from always doing powder's braids && it's something that calms him down . if you have longer hair he's always happy to braid it — he can do all of the fancy braids !! he tries to teach you but your fingers are a bit clumsy what with you being so little .

even though he himself doesn't always practice safe binding he makes sure that you do . if you whine about it trying to point out that he doesn't he sheepishly says something like , "well you shouldn't do everything daddy does ."

[dalliesque]

I'm On My Knees . . ! ! >//<

random things that make riize weak on their knees.

꒰ png ot7!riize x fem!reader , fluff , sillies , headcanons , established relationship , lower case intended . cw kisses, pet names . wc — (not proofread) ꒱

yu notes: MY FIRST ATTEMPT AT HC AAAA, NOT GONNA LET OT6 RUIN MY DAY 🫵

shotaro — your gaze

• it doesn't matter how long you have been dating him.

• your gaze would always melt him away, never failing to make him weak on his knees

• the way you stare at him loving, so warm, so comforting.

• he swears he'll always get hypnotised by it

• and at the end of it either staring back with a pair of lovesick eyes,

• or suddenly blurting out his dramatic plans of marrying you.

• well it could be both

"what do you want for dinner? it'll be my treat" a giddy giggle escape your lips, looking up from your phone to catch him staring. your gaze soften as you call for him in a small voice, "taro?" you tilt your head slightly. not receiving any reply back, you ask once again. "taro"—"let's get married."

sungchan — your voice + petnames

• there's just something so alluring about your voice

• it doesn't matter if your voice is sometimes soft, sometimes deep, raspy,

• even when you're not talking at all and just simply breathing

• it will always be a sweet treat to his ear.

• especially if you add in some sweet new names for him in your sentences

• he'll be kicking his feet like a highschool girl

• he's so obsessed with it, he will refuse to start a day without calling you or atleast receiving a voicemail from you.

• and obviously sleep calls when he's away are a must !!

"hello?" you utter sleepy, yawning and laying back down to your bed. you can hear shuffles through the call, confusion arising when he's not replying to your words. "pretty boy?" the call goes in one long silence as you can't hear him shuffling around on the other side anymore. "sungc"—"did you just call me a pretty boy??!!! KAKSJDJWISJSJSN WAIT I NEED A MINUTE"

eunseok — your caring nature

• idiot grin on his face

• like his smile is huge everytime your personality traits starts to show up

• the way he observes your attentiveness, your caring and kind nature

• his eyes will legit turns to hearts !!

• loves to watch as your caring mode turns on everytime you see animals, people or simply seeing,, him.

you drop down to a squat gently pushing the can of tuna towards a cute little kitten. "look at you.." you coo, offering your hand cautiously watching the way the kitten reacts before gently stroking it. eunseok smiles warmly, staring down at you and the way your expression soften whilst gently carresing the poor animal. "eunseok" you call softly breaking his trance. "yes baby?" eunseok's smile widens crouching next to you, you giggle gently reach out to fix the stray hair on his face. "can we adopt her?" eunseok swears he's fallen in love twice.

wonbin — your warmth

• wonbin lovesloooooves hugging you

• or cuddling you on top of a comfy mattress

• whether it's him spooning you or the other way around it doesn't really matter for him.

• what matters the most is your body pressed close against him at all times!

• he won't be able to function without the warmth your body provides, even if it's in the middle of summer 😵‍💫

you struggle in his embrace, trying to let go as the heat of summer slowly seeps through the window. feeling you pry open his arms, wonbin let out a whine pulling you closer as he hides in the crook of your neck. "it's so hot wonbin" you pout still trying to breakfree from his embrace. "i know im hot" a groan leaves your lips hitting his back gently. "atleast let me grab the ac remote??" wonbin sigh letting go slightly, his hand still perfectly wrapped around your wrist "fine, so this is how it is huh? you don't love me anymore." "oh shut up." you roll your eyes while chuckling softly turning on the ac before spooning him back in your arms, sighing in content.

seunghan — your touch

• blushing mess everytime your hands touch

• people might assume it would be the other way around, the way he acts most of the time proves that he wouldn't be the one clinging right?

• oh how wrong that is

• he'll make sure to keep you close 24/7

• it seems everytime you touch send such an electric feeling in his body

• and he'll never get enough of it, he will alwaaays be so flustered by it

you lean in slightly, your thumb brushing over his lips. "you got chocolate on your lips" you clarify, leaning back to your seat. sipping on your hot chocolate. seunghan quickly reaches out for your hand, placing it back to his lips. "seunghan..?" "i like your touch."

sohee — your smile

• this boy have the sweetest most beautiful smile and guess what?

• his weakness is your smile.

• he's such a tease about it too :(

• would do anything to see you trying to hold in your smile, looking away while blush crept up your skin. all because of him

"so pretty." he whispers softly, tucking a stray hair behind your ear. his eyes finding yours as you try your best to keep your composure, your eyes wandering everywhere but his pair. sohee holds back a giggle, seeing your flustered state. he gently touch your chin, forcing you to look his way. "baby.. pretty.. look at me."

anton — your kisses

• your kisses are his BIGGEST and i mean BIGGEST weakness ever

• most especially a kiss on his cheeks.. oh and his lips aswell !

• he will literally drop everything he's holding and drop down to his knees

"antoooooniooooo" you call fhim in a singsong voice, running giddily towards him. anton gives you sweet smile, pulling you in for a hug. "i missed you so much" you pout, soon pulling away. "i missed you too baby"— chuu! you lean in and gives him a big kiss on his cheek and another one on his lips as soon as he finished talking. your lipgloss staining his face. anton gasps, touching the places where you leave those kisses. feeling his knees weakening. "oh my—" "anton!!" you laugh keeping his knees from hitting the ground.

2024 ©️ dalliesque

@ :: @intakstars @taroddori @reenfludfmarshmallow @enhacolor @sftsohee

[candysunoo]

Park Sunghoon doesn’t say the words “I love you”….

Because he feels like they’re overused. He doesn’t say “I love you” because he thinks that they’ve lost their meaning somewhere, somehow. He doesn’t say “I love you” because the words feel forced, perhaps because at one point they were.

Park Sunghoon doesn’t say “I love you”. Instead he says I care about you. He doesn’t say “I love you” but he shows it everyday.

Park Sunghoon brings you your favorite coffee on a cold Saturday morning. His one day off before heading back to work. He sits on your bed and watches as you get ready for the day. He looks at you like you hung the sun and moon. Park Sunghoon asks you questions while you do your makeup. He wants to know what’s what and why you use it. He tells you you’re the most beautiful person in the world when you’re finished. But secretly he likes it better when you’ve just woken up. When your face is still puffy from sleep and your eyes blink slowly adjusting to the soft sunlight streaming in from behind your curtain.

Park Sunghoon drives when you go to lunch, he knows you don’t like the highway. He pulls out your chair for you and stumbles walking back to his own. His ears going red with embarrassment as he finally manages to get into his own chair. Park Sunghoon orders for you because he knows that you’re shy with new people and that sometimes social anxiety gets the best of you. Though that doesn’t stop him from trying to help you order for yourself, whenever you decide you’re ready.

Park Sunghoon is a dork. He makes silly jokes he knows you’ll like and tells you his weird stories of his friends. He admires your smile and laughter. He’s proud that he can make you smile like that. However, he notices when you’re upset about something so he sits with you while you complain about every little thing that happened during the week. Playing with your fingers softly as he nods along to whatever story you have to tell. Park Sunghoon listens. He listens and understands you.

So no, Park Sunghoon in fact doesn’t say the words “I Love You”. They sting when they bubble up from his throat. Like a promise broken before you. He looks down when you look at him with sympathy, he hates that he can’t say it.

His eyes are still shining with something similar to guilt when you gently lift his face up, his eyes meeting yours. “I care about you” you whisper softly, a perfect replacement for words so forced. “I care about you too, more than you know” he says back his hand squeezing yours softly.

Park Sunghoon says I care about you in replace of “I love you”. Because while yes in all sense of the word he does love you. His love goes deeper than that. He knows that love can be fleeting but care is forever. He knows that you’re it for him and he will spend the rest of his life wanting to take care of you. Park Sunghoon doesn’t say “I love you” because it’s not a strong enough way to describe how he feels about you. In all reality care isn’t either but who knows maybe he’ll find a different noun one day. One worthy of you and his affection.

‼️‼️ ©️ @candysunoo 2024 DO NOT copy, repost or translate without permission ‼️‼️

[constantnbpreg]

Think of a scenario that could be improved by being very pregnant~

of course there’s the classics like driving or going to a restaurant but a scenario i love thinking about that would be amazing to do while very pregnant is grocery shopping as silly as it sounds

i like to imagine myself my twins. gotta go to the grocery store weekly which means regulars who come the same time and day I do and the same employees get to see me get more and more pregnant each week. and because it’s twins, i’m getting big quickly. at first no one would notice anything of course. the small curve of my previously flat tummy is easily hidden by my shirts, barely pressing into my pants yet. just my little secret.

but every week starting after the day my pants stop buttoning though? oh that’s when the changes really start. as my tummy starts to really round out and become a proper belly i notice things. i notice how it’s getting harder to reach for things on top shelves without my belly getting in the way. the day i stretch to try and grab a can, my belly knocks over a bunch of products on one of the lower shelves and i am so embarrassed and lean i have to reach sideways now to not risk that happening again.

i think about me, standing in an aisle trying to find something and rubbing my belly as I do so. hand resting on the curve of it as i peer over my choices. maybe i’m looking at something i’m craving, not on the list but im sooooo hungry. the babies do nothing but kick me and demand me to eat it feels like. and by the way my thighs stretch my maternity pants and my new love handles, you can tell how all those cravings have been adding up.

all the walking i do up and down the aisles is when i start to notice im beginning to waddle a bit. my belly getting so big and heavy on my widening hips. i can feel how the added baby weight makes my ass and thighs jiggle as i move in a way they’ve never done before. it’s clear from my cart that gets more and more items for all my cravings how i got those soft new curves and as the babies get heavier, the harder it is to try and complete my grocery trip. the babies that my partner did such a good job fucking into me take after them in size which means they are biiiiig. and they’re only getting bigger from that point on. they sit heavy against my pelvis, and curve my back so much that it makes me groan.

the space between me and the cart too is nearly non existent at this point too, it just swells so much in front of me that i fear what i’ll do if i can’t reach past it. before i got pregnant i used to always use self checkout, but that’s nearly impossible for me now, trying to maneuver all those items by myself is too exhausting. so instead i squeeze me and my wide hips into a register line. i try and not just how much my hips have grown and spread but it’s hard to when i see how much they fill the small space. i pray i don’t get stuck by the end of this pregnancy, but by how these babies are growing, i better not test my luck.

the cashier would smile at me and like many of the customers i’ve passed, they’d ask me when i was due because it had to be soon right? i tell them i still got three months left and it’s big twins and i see the shock on their face because im just so gravid.

still by my due date, i’m still attempting those trips. my partner helps me though because i have to have one hand holding the underside of my baby filled belly and one supporting my poor back. no way to man a cart groaning as i make my slow way beside them and panting but smiling all the same. my clothes barely fit too, belly hanging out and ass near bursting through the seams of my pants. customers and employees stare at me as we pass, wondering how could be just so big and fertile. wondering why i would still be up and moving when it’s obvious how uncomfortable i am. and they’re right, i am but god it feels so good still being this pregnant and out.

and as we walk and chat about the babies and what to eat for dinner, i lovingly rub my belly thinking about how i’m so excited to do this all over again

[dreamscapeee222]

Hey, this is a request if you don't mind,

Would it be ok if you could write the boyfriend and marriage headcanons for Jimin?

A/n: Hello <3 Yes, yes ofc I'll write that for you :)

Boyfriend Headcannons

Jimin x reader

Masterlist

This man adores you to no end.

He’s your biggest hypeman. Whether you’re just cooking dinner or trying something new, he’s clapping and saying, “Wahh, that’s my baby!” in the cutest way possible.

Jimin has such a gentle yet flirty nature. He’ll hold your face in his hands, look into your eyes, and smirk slightly before saying, “How did I get so lucky?”

He’s super touchy. From soft back hugs to cheek kisses and randomly pulling you into his lap, he just loves being close to you.

(I just want to expand on the physical affection section just a tinyy little bit ^^)

I feel Jimin gives the best hugs. Whether it’s the playful kind where he runs up behind you and squeezes you tightly, or the comforting kind where he pulls you into his chest and strokes your back, his hugs always leave you feeling warm and safe.

When you’re sitting together, expect him to be glued to your side. He’ll rest his head on your shoulder or lean into you, his hand either holding yours or lightly brushing over your arm absentmindedly.

Jimin lives for cuddling. He’s the little spoon one minute, and the big spoon the next. He loves feeling your warmth and having your arms wrapped around him. Bonus points if you play with his hair while cuddling—it sends him straight into bliss.

He always reaches for your hand, no matter where you are. On walks, during dinner, even when you’re just sitting at home watching TV—he loves the reassurance of feeling you close.

He’s got this habit of cupping your face in his hands, gently stroking your cheeks with his thumbs while looking at you like you’re the most precious thing in the world.

He can’t help but poke at your sides or tickle you lightly just to hear you laugh. If you’re lying next to each other, he’ll trace patterns on your arm or tap his fingers on your hand like he’s playing a tiny piano.

He’ll pepper your face with quick, light kisses when he’s in a playful mood, or pull you in for slow, lingering kisses when he’s feeling romantic. And don’t even get him started on cheek kisses—he thinks they’re the cutest.

If you’re working on something, he’ll come up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder. Sometimes, he’ll nuzzle into your neck and leave soft kisses there too.

Even in public, he loves maintaining some kind of physical connection. Whether it’s a hand on your back, a light brush of his fingers on your arm, or gently tucking your hair behind your ear, he just has to touch you.

He loves to spoil you, not just with gifts but with thoughtful little gestures. Like, you mention wanting a specific snack, and the next day, it’s sitting on the table waiting for you.

Jimin is very intuitive. He can read your emotions like an open book, so if something’s wrong, he won’t hesitate to ask you gently, “Are you okay, my love? Do you want to talk about it?”

He’s a huge fan of random dance parties at home. He’ll grab your hands and twirl you around, making you laugh until your stomach hurts.

Oh, and karaoke nights are a must! He’ll belt out his favorite songs, serenade you dramatically, and then laugh at himself when his voice cracks on a high note.

When it comes to your bad days, Jimin is the sweetest. He’ll make you tea, wrap you in a blanket, and sit beside you quietly until you’re ready to talk. And if you need cheering up, he’s got funny stories or silly dances on deck.

If you’re someone who struggles with self-esteem, he’s always there to lift you up. “You’re so beautiful, inside and out. You know that, right? Don’t ever forget it.”

He can be a tiny bit possessive—but in the most adorable way. Like, if someone’s flirting with you, he’ll quietly slip his arm around your waist, just to remind everyone who you belong to.

Jimin treasures quiet moments with you, like cuddling on the couch or watching sunsets together. He’ll press a kiss to your forehead and whisper, “I could stay like this forever.”

He’s your number one partner in crime when it comes to trying new things—restaurants, hobbies, even a new workout. He’s always excited to share new experiences with you.

And let’s not forget how much he loves teasing you. Whether it’s tickling you until you squeal or calling you by a silly nickname, he just loves seeing your reactions.

At the end of the day, Jimin is fiercely loyal and endlessly loving. He’ll go out of his way to make you happy, and he’s not afraid to remind you every single day just how much he loves you.

Requests may be made. Only SFW. Surrounding BTS and Avatar (The Way of Water) only at the moment.

The marriage hcs you asked for <3

[lovelaetter]

hi! its my first time asking but any thoughts on rosé cuz goddamn i love her so much

and also can i be 😎

THANK YOU!

it surprises me that i haven’t talked about her yet because those who know me know that she is my main girl. okay, sure, her, jennie and yeri actually fight for the position from time to time but she’s the top suitor, number one girl fr. it’s so not healthy to ask me about her because i could talk about her for hours and it’s not even a joke, the posts i miss the most from the old blog are hers :( like, sugar baby!rosé, vampire’s reader crazy gf!rosé… come back to me, i miss you all 😢

now let’s talk about something that haunts me: secretary, controversially younger sugar baby and mistress!rosé. you feel so bad, that’s an awful thing to do to your partner, but then you enter the hotel room she’s waiting you at and sees her in bed looking like the most ethereal little fawn against the pillows wearing the pretty silk set you bought her, pouting, softly snoring… how were you supposed to not fall for her? all thoughts are out of your head because look at your baby, got all dolled up and you took so long to arrive. suddenly everything you want is to take off your shoes, get into bed and awake her with soft kisses. and she’s so happy to awaken, honestly, jumping onto your arms with this huge smile for a real kiss, running over her own words “i missed you so much why did you take so long no it doesn’t matter i dont care i misseeeed you”. the type to not let go of you, whines when you get up to shower even if you promise you’ll take minutes, seats on your lap while you two eat dinner but you have to feed her yourself because she talks and talks and talks and the talking turns into moaning because the food is gone and you’re just looking at her with this lovingly gaze, asking “really, baby?” and rubbing gently between her legs over her shorts and she has nothing underneath and is starting to feel her hole leak and seep through the fabric with ease.

she’s your little secret but maybe not so little, there is a number of people who have seen her sneaking into your office at not so busy hours of the day only to come out thirty minutes later all smiley and glowing, something new in the air around her, sitting behind her desk fixing makeup and hair. or the glances you throw at her outfits, expensive pieces she certainly isn’t buying with secretary money or how she doesn’t know to act when your partner shows up unannounced for some reason. but who cares? it’s not their business if the boss is fucking her younger secretary or not.

and she doesn’t want to ruin your marriage, really, but there’s no guilty in her when your marriage is already failed, she knows it’s all an act… but that doesn’t mean she can’t get jealous. totally does not storm inside your office after your partner leaves to passive aggressively ask how they were, trying to be nonchalant but staying in the middle of the room staring at you with her arms crossed. you might try to convince her to come to you but she won’t, leaving you to get up and walk to her, taking her pretty face in hands and kissing the pout away, telling her to “stop being silly, rosie” and it takes her guards down because she knows there’s nothing to worry about :( ends up bend over your desk and basically drooling, her pants undone and all the way down her ankles and keeping her ass cheeks spread open for you, who is kneeling and slurping on her sweet cunt from behind.

[spotaus]

Alright *cracks knuckles* time to get into my favorite chunk of worldbuilding central >:]

Ohh yeah, you got it perfect- I like to think Killer was the one who caught the knife, like, for dramatic affect probably an inch or two before it would've hit Dream straight in his socket (For narrative fun, maybe the same socket Nightmare is blind in because of Dream's actions earlier in the story). And Killer reels it back and sits back in his seat trying to hold in the sign of relief that he caught that because *holy shit* that was close??? Bonus points if he wasn't even paying attention (busy flirting w/ Ccino) and his alarm-bells went off in his head. He hands the knife back to Cross cross the table, but. Wooooo. And yeah, Cross won't ever let it go! He deserves to hold a grudge, and deserves to not have to forgive, because Dream did an unforgivable thing in his mind! Raugh!!!

Gonna be quick on this because I want to dig into the magic system, but- Yes! Horror and Cross get to have this nice, respectful, conversation where Horror lets him down gently instead of letting it go on (And I'm glad you noticed the note about it being before Crop! Because, yeah, Horror was never interested in Cross and probably never would be, and he's the kinda guy to just nip that kinda thing in the bud!) Now I'm thinking he and Horror have this silly brotherhood pact where they agree to talk about their love-lives with each other (usually just Cross tho) outside of Killer's earshot. So maybe Horror knew the Lust thing all along, and acts surprised when Killer finds out, and they never tell anyone-

His infatuation w/ Ccino at this exact moment in the story is exactly right! Ccino's starting to recover, and he's not picture-book style pretty, but there's still something Cross just adores (spoiler, he's still extremely pretty, but he also seems happy and healthy-). And yeah. Dream was handsome in the sort of Storybook Prince kinda way, and definitely had Cross wrapped around his finger w/o trying, but Cross never felt like Dream was in his league to begin with, so his crush was like a kid crushing on a celebrity lol-

And omg you're killing me with the Lust bit!! Ough it's so on point! Cross being so so flustered and obliterated that it's actually going his way, and Lust just being glad that Cross was the one to bridge that gap (because I mean, they managed to be friends a little, but Lust is a professional, he doesn't flirt (intentionally) on the clock!) so he got the opportunity and pounced on it! Ohh they're so so cute...

HAH- Dude I'm so so glad you found it funny because I was writing the drabble and I was like "I hate to be a malicious author, but also I can't let Cross hear about how good it is here, because the Guard usually don't actually hate it.... Oh! Lying man :]" And then chuckled about it writing the entire rest of the drabble! Misinformation that's completely unbounded! Love him for that!

Oh I love the idea that the rest of the staff find him so so funny and mess around and tell stories with him! Shep is actually a beloved member of the castle, if only because he can't stop lying and it adds an extra layer of drama to the castle when things are like. Super tame now that Night's in charge. (No affairs, new mates, burned cities, sacrifice nights, nothing! They have to entertain themselves somehow!) Shep is basically the unofficial Bard... And yeah, Night and everyone knowing his tells like second nature- So casual- (Night loves Ccino's cats. he might not know all their names, but he does make an effort to make it into a little paradise for them! No sub-par toys or food!) And dudeeeee. The idea of Shep coming to visit and Cross having just found out about the lying like a day prior being, "yeah?? I'm bad??? You lied to me!!" and Shep just being like, 'That's what I do, yeah. Back to the spying thing?' gods I love them-

Okay!!! Magic system!!! (Actually, first: The Bet was probably something along the lines of a challenge for their next training (deeply unserious). Like, whoever lost would have to do their next training session wearing a dress or a blindfold or smth. (Dust agreed because he knew he'd win, and Killer loves an excuse to do fun silly stuff that makes them have good memories together :] )

Okay. Now magic system. HOLY SHIT when I read this this morning I was sitting in my classes rotating this around in my head- Yes, first off! Entering Nim's stupid weather-repellant land totally saved his life, or at least made it better! His survival relied on way way too many chance decisions and happenings, because I do like the idea that Dust could've gotten fried by accident by his soul when he was still too young to absorb the excess the shocks gave to him- And OH GOD the idea that Dust knows how it feels to dust??? without knowing it??? feral of you, I love it so dearly. We're back to shaking you for enrichment because!!!! That gave me chills in such a cool cool way- The spell always revives him in time, it's always there, and he always feels a little better, so he assumes it's his own brand of monster fatigue or some other weird thing that he doesn't have time to figure out rn because he has work to do (Crime Lord, Knight, etc).

The concept that the only way to kill him is a super powerful sint-magic field is my favorite ever and we're putting that one into the books- And using a lil silly from your Drabble, I love the idea that he gets tired after the spell leaves his body by even a short distance for too long, and by that measure I like to think that when he was imprisoned? The only reason he wasn't initially fighting to get out (or causing a storm) is because the dampeners literally told his spell to shut up, and the spell had the choice to either Support Dust (which it chose) or to try and break him out and risk killing him in the process. He starts off really oddly relaxed for a smart crime-lord criminal, and has less energy than one would expect. It's kinda assumed that the longer he's back up and moving and getting used to trusting Night that he just got some kick back in his step, but it was actually the dampeners being removed that restored his energy!

The vision of him getting downed w/ a hit to the soul (Everyone knows he's a glass cannon, and they know the horrific sound of a breaking soul) and no one can get to him in time before they start seeing his form shake and shimmer like it's ready to dust. And then. Just the loudest sound of lightning cracking, bright light from his ribcage (glowing through his clothes), and just like you said, he gasps and sits back up before getting right back to attacking? He assumes it was a weird fluke, he got hit in the head and blacked out. Everyone else is panicking and feels sick because??? What the hell??? Monsters don't do that? Souls don't do that?? Dust??????

And ofc we've kinda already touched on this bit, but yeag. I love the idea so so much that magic looks different to everyone. That the intent is always the same but the actual appearance depends on how any one magic-user processes their own magic. And I love Error and Geno's perspectives and the way you framed them!!!

The note of the og mage not even recognizing their own work is so cool to me too, because you're right! That's Dust's now! For all intents and purposes, I bet that mage thinks Dust is dead (which is why this didn't make big news). They tried to come back to check up a few times (after Dust finally woke up and stablized) and his family allowed it to ensure their little boy was going to be alright, but then Dust ran away, and the Mage just assumed Dust ran away to die like a wounded animal (I think the mage had mostly good intentions, but they were also very un-confident in Dust's survival rate). Dust's spell is his own creation now, and the og mage would probably look at it and deny their involvement, because that's not their magic. Simple as that. (To Mages who studied? magic has a set form it takes and stays in once they set it, so Dust's conundrum is one of a billion reasons why Geno is so invested-)

And yeah, The others walk in and are just super duper confused, because Dust swore he had things under control- He was definitely visibly still surprised himself when the others showed up and he was still trying to figure out exactly why his magic just auto-fried the guy- And yes! They keep Dust there as a guard because they're 90% sure Cross could control any other magic and escape if he had the chance, despite the cuffs, so they're putting the one they Know can effectively counter-attack him in charge of ensuring he stays contained! (i love that Cross thinks of magic like Orders and Commands btw, that is a GENIUS look at it!! This magic system is so so cool and I'm glad you were inspired because I am eating this up.....)

Lastly: Yeah, Error is positive he made the right choice in claim on big brothers. I mean! Error explodes things, Dust explodes things, they're the explosion brothers :D

New Age AU (Cross' Spy Adventures)

Hi guys! I'm back! This one has been eating at me so forgive me if it's a bit rougher than the others, but I hope you still enjoy! (And if plot details don't seem to line up? Remember Cross has no clue what's going on yet :] )

Context: Cross has been asked by Dream to do recover information on his brother's next plans of attack. He's not a very good spy.

(Hi to @ancha-aus @papiliovolens and @mutzelputz !!!)

Stars this place was big.

He'd almost forgotten what it felt like to be on a castle grounds after so many years roughing it with Ink. Inns and taverns and tents. He wasn't sure how much he enjoyed being back in the throes of the rich and powerful's estates.

The cart-ride with the other new recruits had been pleasant enough, they were all decently friendly guys. A few were putting on that tough-guy facade, but none of them could've been older than 25. Fresh off the press, practically. Perfect soldiers to be brainwashed.

Cross had laughed and joked with them about what life in the castle might be like. How different it would be from the old daily grind. How maybe they'd pick up a hot partner in town on their patrols. How they hoped they'd eat like kings.

Though, Cross noticed that each of them got cagey when word of the King resurfaced. One birdish-monster mourned that she couldn't have served the last King, Nim, before she passed on to join the gods. Another spoke of the honor it would bring for him to serve the blood of Nim.

They seemed averse to even acknowledging King Nightmare's existence. Aside from his connection to Nim.

Now, the chatter was all silent, and Cross was among the many new soldiers who were ogling the castle as they passed around its outer wall and entered through a side gate.

It was, admittedly, impressive.

His own home kingdom had less of a castle, more of a monolith. It had been dense, and tall, and impossibly smooth. His father couldn't stand imperfection.

This castle was almost the exact opposite of what Cross had always known. The walls imperfect and overlapping, rather than brick it looked like it had burst straight up from the ground. Bumpy and imperfect and natural, and yet beautiful and structurally stable. He didn't linger on it, but he wanted to so badly.

Instead, he drew his attention ahead. To where a man stood, his armor decorated in the marks which indicated him as a reporting officer.

This man, a human with a crooked nose and a thick, black, beard held up a hand, and the driver of the cart tugged at his reigns, the horses pulling to a slow stop.

One by one, once given the signal, the soldiers filed out. Stating their rank, their camp of origin, and their name.

Cross was middle of the pack, and saluted the human as Dream had taught him and as everyone had done before him.

"1st Year Guard, Pierson Camp, Z." He reported.

He was not proud of his code-name. It physically hurt to say it with a straight face, but when he'd been talking about needing a new code name, Ink had excitedly suggested it.

Z, he'd said, Like 'X' but not! And Cross hadn't been able to shut the idea down when Dream had giggled and tapped his cheekbone, the spot just under his eyelight that held is scar.

Dream had called it fitting, and it'd been settled in a heartbeat.

Cross managed to say it aloud without any hint of suspicion and was waved off to join his fellow recruits.

They lined up haphazardly, but didn't dare to do more than grin and snicker between eachother at. Well. Anything, it seemed. They were taking this very casually compared to what Cross had been expecting.

Though, the moment the captain was done looking to the cart for any stragglers, he turned. The soldiers all went still and aligned themselves.

Cross wondered how they survived training if they goofed off like that so readily.

He watched as the cart which had brought them circled away, and he listened carefully as the man introduced himself.

"I am Captain Rogers. Your platoon will report to me for any and all management. I control your training schedules, your mealtimes, and your work hours." He called out to them, right there on the lawn "you are here today to serve the blood of the gods, and by Nim's watch you will not slack on your oath. No matter how much you loathe it here. Understood?"

Such a bold declaration of... unrest.

The soldiers, one by one, gave affirmative nods and salutes, Cross making sure he wasn't the first. He didn't want to seem too eager.

The captain led them about.

He asked for them to stay in formation, and Cross ended up towards the middle of the pack yet again, just close enough to hear the explanations of their duties, places on the grounds they were allowed to go, and what their daily routine was meant to be like.

Near the stables, they paused briefly, and the Captain was taking an extra long time explaining that the horses in the stables were not to be ridden without explicate orders from him or another commanding officer.

Cross couldn't help but notice the guys ahead of him whispering about something, and Cross followed their miniscule gestures off to the left.

A black cat, wirey and short-hair. It was standing in the shadow of a fence, and he didn't think he would've spotted it if it weren't for its big, green eyes. They were like little saucers in its head.

It was staring straight at him. Tail flicking. One ear twitched.

Cross tried to ignore it, but when he'd glance back, it was still there.

Until, suddenly, it wasn't.

By the time they moved on, it was nowhere in sight.

His old home hadn't had many animals, especially not roaming cats. He wondered if it was a 'barn cat'. Blue had explained the concept to him once.

Regardless, that thing was freaky.

Finally, after what felt like hours of walking, the Captain announced that their last stop of the night would be to their quarters.

He could practically feel the relief rolling off of the guys next to him, and it took am effort to let his shoulders sag even an inch in imitation. The guy next to him looked like he might fall over, and Cross shared none of that exhaustion.

They would start their assignments bright and early in the morning, each of them would have a more experienced guard join them as a guiding measure before they were left to the duties themselves.

A much kinder grace period than Cross had been expecting, honestly.

The Captain escorted them down the halls, long and twisting. Each one held soldiers out of uniform, turning in for the night, going through their routines. As well as some moving out for the night shift. They ignored the rookies as they kept to their own business.

The Captain swung a door open, only to immediately block the soldiers in front from entering the space of relaxation beyond.

"Ah, Ccino, I was worried we'd missed you." The Captain spoke up.

"Soldiers, back up. Stand at attention." Came an order next.

Cross was faster than the others in recognizing the order, but forced himself to wait until the others stumbled into him to start moving. He wasn't sure why they were getting into this stance, but he knew better than to start asking questions.

They all stood in the hall, and Cross caught a few snickers from nearby lounging guards as the rookies stood there.

"The King called upon me, so I wasn't able to meet you where we had planned," a softer, calm, voice rang, "I figured I would run into you here before you turned in for your first night."

The Captain stood before them, and beside him, exiting the barracks, was a monster.

Cross tried not to stare, but he couldn't deny that this was odd. He'd never known a captain to bend to anyone but a higher up. But...

This skeleton was dressed in a servant's uniform. Granted, it was made of a thick, soft-looking brown and tan fabric, with an apron with more embroidery than he thought he'd ever seen in his life, but it was nothing too out of place.

Surely it wasn't a Knight. No, he'd been told they wore masks. He could tell this skeleton was not a Knight. He could see the full skull, soft and gentle, calm eyelights, and a body Cross swore had never seen a single battle.

No. Cross, stop that.

He didn't tear his eyes away, but he forced himself to look back to the skeleton's shoulder. No eye-contact, but still facing him. Good.

"Soldiers, This is our Head of House, Ccino." The Captain gestured to the skeleton at his side.

The soldiers all remained silent, and the captain nodded.

"If Ccino ever gives you any sort of order, you listen." The Captain's voice was harsh with this, the same way he'd spoken about the horses, and the kitchen, and the private training rooms they'd passed. "No questions, no hesitation, no disobeying. You understand?"

The squint of the Captain's eyes were more than enough for Cross to know better than to ask. Something like this was unfamiliar, for sure, but he knew when a soldier was saying something he truly believed in. Lived by. For better or worse.

None of the other recruits seemed to speak up. Cross certainly didn't. He tried not to let his nerves show as this skeleton, Ccino, let's his soft white eyelights skim softly from one soldier to the next. When they came to him, he desperately avoided the gaze, practically staring a hole into the soft fur scarf wrapped around his neck, hiding his spine from view.

"It's a pleasure to meet all of you," That calm voice again, "As you heard, my name is Ccino. I manage the Castle, it's grounds, and the people who stay within our walls. This includes all if you, as of tonight."

He seemed rather put-together. Pleasant. Cross didn't feel any unease. He was positive, now, that this was not a Knight. Yet, he couldn't figure out why such a monster would be held in such high regard, unless, of course...

"As you heard, our King trusts my decisions regarding these matters, which is why he asks you listen to my requests. However, I don't abuse this privilege, and it shouldn't dissuade you from coming to me if you have any problems." Ccino pulled his arms to cross infront of him, and once again looked over the recruits. "You may be our guard, but that does not mean you shouldn't recieve help as well. If you cannot find me, ask another servant and they will get word to me."

Ccino seemed... kind. That had to be it.

The sparkle of admiration in the captain's eyes. The way some of the soldiers watched. Maybe Ccino was the golden light in this dark place? Though, that didn't seem quite right.

"Stick to your duties, remain diligent, and you will be cared for here." He said softly. "Now, stand down and go rest. Your training tomorrow will be thorough, and you will need the extra sleep."

Oh.

Cross recognized the order, and his body moved a bit before his mind could catch up. He relaxed, as much as he naturally could, and took a step. Toward the barracks. Then paused and glanced like a deer in the headlights to the Captain and the Head of House.

Ccino just smiled, and the Captain seemed stoic.

"Seems Z gets first dibs on the cots!" The Captain announced, and with his approval, humor seeping into his tone a bit, and laughter echoing from the older guard who'd been observing?

Cross made the quick duck into the room and grabbed for the first cot he saw. Bottom bunk, closest to the door, the easiest way he'd be able to leave the long room of bunk beds.

The others hurried in after him, some laughing, others cursing jokingly at Cross having noticed the test first.

The test.

Of course it'd been a test. A test to see if they'd recognize Ccino as an authority figure. A test to see if they took the warning seriously. Cross just listened to the superior officer. And... put himself in the limelight of excelling new recruits.

If there was one good thing, though it was mortifying, the others didn't seem to notice what it was. They were too busy teasing Cross for the grape blush that enveloped his face the moment he sat to think it over. The others assumed he'd just slipped up. Listened to the prettiest person in the room.

Once again, Cross wondered how they'd made it through training. Though, it was good they just thought he was a stupid lover boy. Better than them realizing he was following orders on instinct.

It'd been a hard sell, getting to sleep, but he'd managed somehow.

.

The morning was much easier than the night prior. He woke up before the sun, before a lot of the others even showed signs of stirring. It was good he got up so early, sneaking off probably wouldn't be much of an issue.

Tomorrow, then. He'd do his sneaking tomorrow, after he got a lay of the land today. From what they'd been told, he'd be supervised today. Everyone would. It was different from what the Prince had told him, but it didn't matter. Policies could change, and Cross knew better than to disobey new policies.

The castle inside felt like a maze yesterday, he'd hopefully have routes inside, so he'd be able to memorize at least a few escapes. Orient himself. Worst case he could break a window.

He didn't want to leave any trace, though. The best scenario, as Dream had explained it, was that he'd get in, get the information, and get out. A week, maybe a week and a half tops. Cross wanted to spend as little time here as possible. He didn't want to fall into whatever mind-control he'd been warned of. He didn't want to run into the Knights. He certainly didn't want to see Dream's twin.

Though, he was curious. What he looked like. If he could see the sibling resemblance between the Prince and his supposedly brainwashed ruler of a sibling. It was honestly none of his business. If the King never saw his face, that would be all the better. He shouldn't know Cross was ever here at all.

The thoughts swirled in hid head as he stared at the bottom of the cot above his. Wood slats, the whole thing was sturdy wood, with decent mattresses and blankets and pillows resting on its support. It didn't creak at all, which was good. And surprising. Everything in the castle seemed so nice.

Mm, must've been a thing for the people here. Serve the 'gods' and live in luxury. It certainly seemed that was how the Prince's camp had run as well.

Cross couldn't be sure how long he was awake, examining the room and sitting still, but the sun managed to rise into the sky by the time he'd heard the slamming knock on the door to the barracks.

It was easy for him. When the Captain swung the door wide open and announced, in a hardy shout, that they were to be in the hall in 5? Cross rolled out of bed the moment the door closed again.

It pained him to move so slowly. He couldn't be the first one out again. Couldn't be the first one dressed. He didn't know why it took so long for the others to change to their uniforms and rub the sleep from their eyes. Monsters and humans alike! They hustled, some of them, and Cross was grateful a cat monster seemed to gather herself more readily than the others. An orange striped cat, her nose and the tip of her tail a stark white. Cross only noticed her when she rushed for the door, and he let himself trail her a moment later.

Thinking back, she'd been at the back of the group yesterday, joking with some of the others. Cross wondered what the energy change was all about.

He didn't get time to worry about it, though. The hall outside the barracks was busier than it had been last night, and Cross found himself facing, not only the Captain, but also several guards. They each seemed to be in full uniform, different than Cross' or the cat's which marked them as trainees. They seemed stoic before their captain, and Cross almost felt a moment if relief. Maybe this was a decent show of artillery?

No, wait, strong soldiers would be bad for the Prince. He'd have to get through these guys.

He shook away the thought, listening in as he stood awkwardly in the hall, another recruit lumbering out to stand where he'd joined the cat already.

The Captain looked them over, before nodding.

"Harper, you're with Jenna." The Captain ordered, pointing from the cat before gesturing towards one of the guard directly behind him.

Cross tried not to let his eyelights give away his observance as the guard stepped around her captain. She seemed to be a bunny monster, lots of fur and long, floppy ears tied behind her head. She, Jenna, saluted the cat, Harper, and Harper saluted in return.

"Listen to what your mentor tells you, got it?" The Captain asked, and Cross saw a few others exiting as he said this.

Those who started moving down the hall, and the Capatin looked to Cross. It was a kick glance, one look-over, before he turned and looked over his shoulder.

"Z, you're with Shep." And a gesture guided Cross towards whoever his mentor for the day would be.

From nearly the back of the crowd, snaked a dog monster. Black and white, short-trimmed fur. His eyes were brown and intense, and after a moment Cross realized this guard was shorter than him. He didn't like that when Shep saluted, he had to peer down to salute back.

He hardly even registered that they were already moving off, not unlike the two before them had done, until he'd taken a few steps to follow this small royal guard.

"So, you're Z?" Shep asked him as they stopped a few halls away. This one was largely barren aside from a few servants. Along each wall hung a huge tapestry, woven out of heavy threads and hung by a long piece of metal along the top edge.

"Yes, sir." Cross responded shortly. Not giving himself a moment to stammer.

Shep looked at his quizzically, before he leaned forward and sniffed. Actually just sniffed at Cross. It was still a few inches away, they didn't make contact, but suddenly he worried he was stinky. He's bathed before hopping on the cart, and he hadn't been exercising much, surely-

"Ah, you're not from this Kingdom! Not originally, at least." Shep said then, leaning away just as quickly as he'd gotten close.

Cross blinked, and he was sure his skull didn't hide his shock as well as he'd hoped. "I can smell the pollen on you, newbie. We don't have those kinda plants in this kingdom." He explained, and Cross internally cursed himself. Would he have to run? Would he have to-

"You know, I'm not from this kingdom either, I was born to the west." Shep admitted then, easily, using a paw to gesture loosely at the space between them, "I bet we'll get along just fine, newbie. C'mon. I'll show you around your route."

Cross didn't even get a spare second to defend himself, or puzzle at why a foreign monster would choose to come here. Shep was already on his way, back turned and hurrying down the hall at a brisk pace.

"As far as I know You're gonna be taking over my old route, inner portion of the castle." Cross listened, but orders were his second nature. As they walked, he eyed the tapestries hung along the wall. Long and intense, and yet, there was a moment where Cross could see the colors were more faded and worn.

"You'll mostly just be patrolling, watching out for anything out of the ordinary, waiting to see if you're needed for any specific duties." The images showed monsters, humans, monsters again. Depictions of complex circles and red splashes dripping from weapons and hands. And he noticed a trend, eventually. These must've been the previous rulers. The past Kings.

"Your patrols will be alone, the rooms in the hall aren't too important, and it's mostly servants that pass through that way." Cross almost lost his rhythm as they drew to the end of the tapestry, though the hall kept moving. There on the tapestry was a depiction of two little skeletons, one which seemed strikingly similar to Prince Dream, even in his adulthood. Beyond, the tapestry simply stopped. It was odd that King Nightmare hadn't bothered to get it finished with his own visage. Maybe his puppetmaster was waiting to put himself there instead?

"Still important, anyways. The servants halls are the easiest ways in and out of the castle, so we can't slack off." They turned a corner, and Cross pried his eyes away from the tapestry and back before him.

They passed a few more halls, before Shep stopped dead in his tracks, and Cross reacted quickly, spotting the way he peaked around the next corner.

Across the way, Cross spotted that they'd run into another pair who had also stopped. Only when Shep saluted did Cross think to follow his lead.

From the hall he couldn't see, emerged a figure.

Cross kept his eyelights to the ground, but the steps, the shoes, the heavy cape, and especially the dark and slimey tendrils which snaked along in his wake? That was the King. The one Dream had been so particular about not running into at all.

Two sets of feet followed him. Closely. He didn't have to look up to recognize that they must've been Knights. The easy weight of their steps, how close they stuck behind the king, the weight of the one's magic? Surely. He didn't risk a glance until after Shep lifted his head again. Cross only caught a glimpse of a tiger mask turning another corner before the three figures were gone.

In the tense silence, Cross swore he could hear his soul beating. He wasn't sure if it was fear, or indignance, or something else, but he knew being so close to the King had not made him feel good. Dream had been right, something about that guy was wrong.

Shep glanced around, and his ear twitched, watching down the hall where they'd left to.

The group across from them was already moving, towards the hall Cross had just cone from.

"You know, you kids are lucky Newbie." Shep voiced then, eying up the human rookie who was passing by. "When I first joined the guard, the King cut my tail off to prove my loyalty."

He said it so easily that Cross was speechless. What did he mean? Was. His tail was docked, but...

"What?!" The panicked whisper came from the passing humans who had obviously been eavesdropping. He expressed the concern coating Cross's soul and freezing him in place.

"Yep. I heard he used it as a cat toy for the strays." Shep confirmed loosely.

"Shep." Came the snap of his name from the other trained guard, though they didn't move to deny his claim.

Cross hadn't heard anything about that from Dream. Of course, he also hadn't heard about this introduction process either. He was flying blindly here, and suddenly he feared for his limbs.

Shep simply shrugged and kept moving forward. Cross wanted, badly, to excuse himself right this moment and go back and claim he couldn't do it. But he was here now, and he had a Prince to help. And a whole lot of people relying on him to prevent more tragedies.

The training wasn't hard. Shep stood with him, made small-talk, told him all the tricks to ensure he knew when someone would switch off with him, and then they had lunch.

He hated to admit it, but the food was delicious. He hadn't had something so filling in... maybe ever. He couldn't put his finger on it, not quite, but for monster food, it felt solid. Warmer. He felt less hungry after, and a part of him wondered if that was how they did it. The mind control. Was it the food?

But, no, surely not. He was still set on his mission when he went right back to his rounds. The food was just... strangely good.

The rest of the rounds were easy. Simple. And there was at least an hour after where Shep willingly guided him through the rest of the building. At least, anywhere he could.

Cross noticed, once, that Shep broke a rule. He ducked into the kitchen. Returned to a surprised Cross with two pieces of bread and handed one to Cross before tearing into his own. Apparently, from what Shep said, the main kitchen wasn't off-limits. Not really. Just the private one.

He didn't ask about the difference, he wouldn't need to know, after all. He doubted plans of attack were stached in the cupboards of a pantry.

And just as swiftly as it had begun, it ended. Shep said he'd be around the training grounds tomorrow if Cross needed him, and released him to dinner. After Dinner, Cross went back to the barracks.

Many of the rookies were talking all about their routes, others complaining that they had gotten cleaning duties for being the last out of the barracks that morning. They'd start training tomorrow. Cross tried not to contribute much, but he liked listening in. Understanding more about the place. The people.

It sounded like the King had crossed quite a few of their paths as well, and they didn't seem happy about it. Discussing in hushed tones how weird the King was compared to the last. Dark, secretive, hardly even a ruler. Cruel. He heard the human from before shamelessly telling Shep's tail misfortune to the gathered group, who all seemed to be riled up by it, exchanging other horrible speculations.

He needed to get this information. He just... he couldn't do anything until the others were asleep. So. Morning it would be.

.

Cross was a coward.

He knew as much, deep down somewhere, but as he woke up early again, he thought through his plan. He didn't know where he'd find any of this information he needed, he didn't know anything beyond his own route. He didn't even know what he'd be finding. He'd know when he found it, he was sure, but the last thing he wanted to do was get caught

He should've excused himself during dinner to go search around, or chosen a buddy to go wandering with. Shep had told him some things, he knew the room where the Knights trained was the indoor room, and he knew some areas no one went to. He knew the hall where the Knights and King stayed, Cross found it interesting they all stayed nearby, and he'd promised himself he'd avoid the space like the plague. He knew so much, and so little, all at once.

And he waited, thinking, so long that he... he just got up as the others did. Moved to his station to rotate shifts with the night guards. He just... did his duties again.

Well, they weren't his duties. He had no obligation to be here, not really. But the Prince had told him a week. A week and a half. That would make the most sense for an in and out. So, he wanted to respect that. And he had orders now to act out. Surely if he slacked off it'd be noticed, right? Yeah. He'd just slip away before dinner and say he went to train a bit more. Peak into some doorways. No biggy. Surely.

He worried about what he'd do to pick up a slack he hadn't even lost, all day. All through his rounds. If he showed it, his replacement at his last post said nothing, and waved him off.

Cross wanted so desperately to go searching. But. Before he could pass by the hall which would lead to the mess hall for the servants and guard? He glimpsed them from down the adjoining hall.

Two of the Knights.

One with a hood obscuring his face, casting a heavy shadow over everything, his eyelights a dull white. Though he didn't see a mask at first glance, Cross had to make some assumptions based on the one beside him that they were both Knights.

The other had on leather training armor, and a tiger's mask, red ribbons hanging from it, swaying with weight. He could see the skeleton's grin peaking from beneath the mask, and noticed how the tiger draped an arm over the other and laughed.

Cross didn't even give them a second to notice him, swiftly stepping out of the corridor and towards the dining halls after all. He didn't want to get in the way. He didn't want to be on their radar.

He needed to know when they trained. When they'd all be occupied so he wouldn't have to worry about them catching him off-guard.

Off guard. Ink would be having a hayday with that one if he'd made that joke back at camp.

Cross just kept moving forward, ducking into the dining space before the Knights even reached that hall.

.

Three days. It took him 6 whole days to learn more. To learn where the information might be. To learn where the Knights usually were at any given time. To learn how to navigate the place better. To not worry about getting caught.

He'd gone back to Shep one day, to test if he'd be told to go off the dinner or if he'd be sought out. He was not, so he had his proof that no one cared so long as he was doing his rounds.

He'd sat and talked. Asked about the Knights. (Shep had little to say that Cross didn't already know). Asked about training. (Shep said he was always out here now, running routines.) Asked about the king.

And Shep was interested about him asking on the King. Cross almost fumbled, but said he'd heard a lot of rumors. Shep had been here a while. What was true?

And Shep told him stories. In a low voice. Of the King breaking spines, of throwing objects with his tendrils, of sentencing folks to death over minor transgressions. Of his ruthless rule and cruel first. How he brought in servants and guards by force. Ripping them from their homes. How the king would declare traitors and have them hung.

Eventually, Cross asked him to stop. He'd heard enough.

Some of those things he'd heard from Dream, or the folks back at that encampment. Others were new. Insider information. Things he'd never dreamed of.

It was informational, and Cross decided that he'd keep learning more, until he was sure he had the perfect moment to strike.

.

He wasn't the smartest, okay?

Cross had done his rounds, and the moment he was done, he scurried off towards his destination.

He paid no mind to servants or guards, and used a servant's hall to arrive in the location he needed. The hall where the King's Study was located.

Yesterday he'd investigated the war room. Entering and closing the doors behind him, the room had been a mess of papers and figures and notes. The maps of each neighboring kingdom alone were strewn on walls, like the ravings of a mad-man. None of them had plans of attack, though. The light from his eyelights had been enough to illuminate each one as he approached. Every single one was a new defensive plan. Ways to deploy troops if they were attacked. Not one seemed unprovoked which was... strange.

Cross was almost unable to find any sign of the King's next route of action for his destructive feats, so he was resigned to search the study tomorrow. His only solace was that exiting the War Room had only been met with a servant a ways down the hall, and a cat pacing by, paying him no mind.

The cats in this place were many. Cross had never seen so many cats in one place, and when he'd asked at dinner, it seemed that everyone thought they belonged to the Head of House, Ccino.

It would make sense, Cross had seen the embroidery along his apron, plenty of paws and cat-like figures along the hemlines, between the branch and tree motif the entire building seemed set on holding tight to. But, it amazed him that there would be so many, allowed to run free. The King must've been very lenient with his Head of House, to allow so many creatures free-roam.

...then again, the Knights wore masks decorated with Big Cats. Cross had finally caught a glimpse of the Lion, out on the lawn while he was talking to Shep. He carried an Axe twice the size of Cross' torso, and he seemed to wield it with hardly any problem. Cross just hoped the little beasts weren't being sacrificed. He'd heard about the barbaric practices from Ink once when he had his head on straight. He hadn't had the guts to bring it up to the Prince. Or Shep. Fearing the answer.

And so, now, he moved for the study. When he knew no one would be around, when no one would see him or bother him. He could dig through the information, tuck it away in his ribcage, and get out of dodge.

It was mid-day. Apparently the Knights tended to have training about now, and the King always supervised. So the forbidden hall, as the others called it, was dead and silent.

It wasn't hard to determine which door was the study, the door was carved carefully with a beautiful tree, and the handle was a shining gold, as though it got less use than the other rooms. He tested the handle, it moved, and he slipped inside.

Of course it wouldn't be locked. Who would have the guts to go snooping around in the private spaces of murderous tyrant kings? Well. Cross would, but that was besides the point.

The inside was lit by a few stray candles, and Cross tried not to marvel at the luxury of the room. Everything was carved out of dark wood, with golden fabric lacing the cushions of lounge seats and the curtains which covered the windows. It was darker, used, but still gorgeous. The daylight filtered in through an open window, giving it a warm ambience. Cross didn't know how a room used by such an unpleasant man would be so calm and soft.

There was a case along one wall, large and long. Hung inside were masks of all different shapes and styles. Some were decorated with swirls and gems, but most resembled animals. A crane, a swan, a horse, a sheep, a hawk, a wolf, they all stared out at him with blank, empty, sockets. He wondered if these were used or not, but they seemed untouched.

And beside that case, in the far corner, sat a heavy desk, with bookshelves filled to the brim tucked just behind it.

The desk was heavy, and it looked to be covered with papers, letter drafts, just a quick glance over the contents told Cross this was just what he needed.

He stood behind the desk, unable to stop himself from lifting the papers up into his hands. From here he could see the door, as well. He'd know if someone was coming.

The first paper he looked at seemed to be the draft of a letter, addressed to someone by the name of Crop. The handwriting was beautiful, and Cross was lucky Ink knew how to write in so many dialects, or he'd have trouble deciphering exactly what this was saying. The cursive was precise. And... it seemed a half-finished letter asking about plants. The state of a harvest? No, that's strange.

Cross lifted the few pages which had been tucked beneath the first, confused. These ones seemed to be written in a much more unsure writing, but they held what he could only call sketches. Showing clouds and plants and... fields? Cross wasn't familiar with farming, but he could recognize a field anywhere. The paper had a few words underlined and circled, and they seemed to be later additions, added overtop by someone else. The words seemed to be mentioned again in the letter draft? It was completely innocuous. If this was the King's letter, he was just asking about the wellbeing of a farmer's harvest. Asking about improvements.

He moved them hastily into a stack and set them aside, reaching for the next haphazard bundle of paper. That couldn't have been right.

The next piece he scooped up was in that same pretty cursive, but this time it wasn't a letter. Instead it was some sort of list. Locations, some crossed off, and some untouched. Was this what he was searching for? Surely this was it.

He moved to grab the next page that had been beneath it. It held more context, it seemed. Notes scribbled down about how these towns needed changes. Action. Cross looked to the first crossed-off name, one he recognized from one of the woman at Dream's encampment.

The paper read of a faulty justice system, a lawman who needed to be checked up on for counts of bribery and false accusations. She'd said the Knight, the tiger, had arrived and asked for their head of city guard, the one who enforced rules and kept peace in their small village. Two days later he was killed, replaced by someone the King installed, and he started jailing innocent folks.

Cross looked to the next one, a pass where travel had been haunted by the royal guard. He'd been told they'd done it to halt people from mining in the area, a crop of wealth the King wanted to hoard. But this said that it was a mountain pass with frequent and dangerous rocks lines thanks to a sudden increase in storms since his rule. Notes reminding of supplies, and pay, and signs. Signs.

The next was not crossed off. An issue of bandits ransacked the town when people would enter or exit. Notes in messier scrawl seemed to pose solutions. Ideas. One that was circled said 'Send Horror, Autumn'. It was nearing the end of summer now.

This did seem to be the list that Dream had suggested existed, my twin is organized, he'll have a list with extensive notes, but he'd said nothing about the way the list wouldn't actually contain anything incriminating.

He skimmed again, but it seemed like nothing harmful. One lower down even acknowledged a damage caused during some sort of raid and to divert funds to someone. A random shopkeep in an outer city. This didn't add up at all.

He folded the paper silently and stuffed it into his armor, but kept looking. No doubt there would be something else. One of the lower pieces, something hidden away.

But the papers atop the desk seemed just as helpful in nature. Even ones like drafted decrees or laws to impose later were not unreasonable. One even seemed to propose a ban on child labor. What kind of tyrant would pass up a chance for easy workers?

Digging through the drawers revealed nothing more, just an impressive collection of quills, ink, and more books it seemed didn't fit on the shelves behind him. He wouldn't find anything more useful than these documents, he was sure. He... he just hoped the Prince would be able to see whatever evil Cross was obviously missing here. He scooped up another piece, one of the decrees, and then the letter draft to that Crop. Maybe they could speak to him? No, the planning was up to Dream. He was just here to get the information and go.

And now that he had it...

Cross sighed a bit, he couldn't understand why these were the things in here. In this innermost sanctum where only the trusted went. Everyone feared this King so much, Dream claimed he and his master were such a threat. And yet all Cross could find was a record of damages, and a plan to enact damage control. It...

"Having some trouble finding the dirt?"

Cross felt his entire soul freeze up as the voice cut through the silent room. It was quiet, and deep, and a bit gravelly. He didn't recognize it, but that didn't matter, because he knew he had been alone.

Almost all at once, a wave of presence crashed over his awareness. That damp static that had passed by once in the hall. Trailing the King. He didn't have to look up to know it was one of the Knights somewhere before him.

"Our King isn't usually one to make a mess." The voice said again, calmly.

Cross dragged his eyelights up, hands tentatively hovering at his sides. There, sat comfortably on one of the chairs, was the hooded one. Dust, Shep had told him.

Now, despite the shadow cast by his hood, Cross could see the faint details of his panther mask, black and hidden away in the darkness of his cover. He seemed entirely at-ease, not a care in the world, watching Cross. If his soul hadn't been sinking into his gut, Cross would've even thought Dust found the situation humorous.

He steeled himself, watching. Could he try and bluff his way out of this? Somehow? How long had Dust been there? How much had he seen?

"Any chance you'd believe I was looking for a good book?" Cross asked, though the bold humor he'd attempted to channel in the way Ink had done so many times before fell flat. Maybe his growing panic was clouding his mind, or maybe he'd never been much of a comedian.

Dust just stared at him, tilting his head a bit. By the way his eyelights changed shape, Cross imagined his sockets had drooped to give an unamused stare. Not a great sign.

"Are you going to try and run, or can I catch a break today?" Dust just asked across the room.

Mm. Cross didn't have much of a choice here anymore. Dream had told him, drilled it into his skull, not to get caught. Especially not by the Knights. They'd torture him. Kill him. The stories of what they did to traitors... Cross couldn't let this knight get hold of him. Couldn't be trapped. He had to get out of here.

He promised Ink he'd be back.

With that thought, his sword summoned to his hand in a flash. It was big, and bulky, and not the best for an indoor fight, but he'd make due. He just needed to get away from this guy. That was all.

His summons was clearly a declaration of intent, because he heard Dust scoff over the rush of adrenaline running through him and roaring through his ears. All at once, the electric charge in the room seemed to up itself. Bones, blue, cracked downwards from the rafters and planted themselves sturdy before the door and the window. His two possible exits. Dust stood up and stretched his arms before him.

"Alright, let's get this over with." Dust voiced, then.

Cross nearly let his guard down in the first moment. He felt a charge of energy coming from his side, and narrowly vaulted over the desk to avoid the spiked and jagged bones which rose where his feet had just been planted.

Momentum carried him now, and his sword was already poised for attack before his mind quick processed it. He slashed at Dust, growing rapidly closer. Hid swing was met with pure white bones that stopped his swing, just enough for Dust to avoid the hit with a split second to spare.

He was quiet, as they fought. As Cross lunged and spun and threw himself forward with grunts of exertion. It was unsettling, how the only noises were the cracks of his magic ripping into existence or Cross's sword cracking them to pieces like a lumberjack's axe.

He kept his attention on Dust. The magic had a pattern. The room was buzzing ambiently, and right before an attack it was like being too close to a fire. Just briefly. Cross barely managed to avoid spearing his ankle thanks to the crackle. He wished he could be a bit faster, though. Cross couldn't feel where an attack was aiming like he normally could. Dust gave no indications as to where an attack would be channeling either, almost like he wasn't controlling them at all. He didn't like it, it was unpredictable, and was wearing him down fast.

Dust kept dodging his swings, no matter how fast he moved, and eventually Cross stumbled. His shoulder connected with one of the random jutting bones. Dust stepped back just before it pierced upwards, and Cross grunted in distress as it drove him back a step as to not get impaled.

That was apparently his mistake. The moment he wasn't close to Dust, bones seemed to crop up all around him, gutting at different angles, just barely piercing the bone, little cracks forming with the force. Cross could feel each one jab a bit deeper than the last. Each time he reversed to get away from one or break away an incoming volley, another would arrive behind him at a new angle.

He hated that Dust stood back. Watched. The only sign that he had even broken a sweat was a slight heaviness to the up and down of his shoulders, and while Cross hadn't lost much HP yet, he was starting to feel the exhaustion creep closer, and each little wound and crack seemed to be draining him. Was this the strategy? Play with him like a living pin-cushion? Was this it's own sort of-

Cross shifted his stance and unsummoned his weapon as he jumped up and out of the quickly growing ring of spikes. He had to act fast. He had to get out of here.

He grumbled a bit under his breath, he didn't like trying to do this, but...

The moment his feet landed, Cross summoned up his other piece of magic. The part his father had embedded into his soul early on in his life which made him so powerful. He was sure his normally white eyelight changed shape in the split second it happened. Red, bright red.

It only took a moment, a tug at the very being, hidden away in the Knight's chest. For a split second, he could feel the control of foreign magic slip into his own hands.

For a moment, it worked just as he knew it would. His fist trembled under the effort, keeping an eye on Dust as the other seemed to stare at him. The bones he'd summoned all seemed to sink away at once, recalled faster than Cross could've hoped. Dust seemed to feel his magic stop responding to him.

Cross just needed to get the Knight downed. Not dead. He just needed out.

He shifted stiffly. One, concentrated blast of bones at the Knight. He seemed like he didn't want to risk taking any damage. That was all Cross needed then. Some damage. And he'd be free to escape back to the camp. Away from these weird monsters with their weird magic.

He let his palm open, directing the force like he'd done so many times, channeling another monster's magic against them. Controlling it against their will.

The feeling of electricity rose again. It spiked. It. It gathered in his hand, that burning feeling he felt when an attack had been about to hit him.

What?

It was too late to recall the intent once he'd released it. The moment he tried to command the magic, he felt it all roll back over him. Bones meant to be aimed at their owner came jolting straight at his front. And though he stumbled back, he couldn't escape the searing pain of a fire too hot to process escaping his bones and immediately rushing up his arm, into his chest, down to his feet.

He had to imagine, with the loud sound like a cracking whip, that that was what being struck by lightning felt like. Molten metal in your veins.

Cross laid sprawled, dazed, on the floor as his control magic puttered out. It hurt to breathe. To see. To exit. He was half-convinced his arm was completely splintered apart after the pulse of raw magic that had filtered through it, but he didn't bother to look.

His soul begged him to move, to get up and run again, but darkness danced in his vision as he stared up at the ceiling. He failed his mission.

He hated to see as the Knight rounded into view, standing cautiously over where he was laid. Floored by the backfire of his power. If the knight said anything, he couldn't hear over the loud ringing invading his head.

Though, instead of stabbing him through like Cross had expected, the knight seemed to duck down. A cool feeling encased Cross' wrists (so the other hadn't broken apart) and his soul suddenly felt exhausted. He felt exhausted.

No matter how much he wanted to stay awake, to escape, he lost this fight fair and square.

[mercymaker]

sometimes i read some takes on this website and just think 'it's not that deep'

like.. people are SO quick to jump to conclusions about other people, it's wild

[leucoratia]

Kraz, royal healer

Kraz (Razzy if they like you(but they like everyone)(except Jerry)) is a human (?) mage who voluntarily exiled themselves to the underground to follow monsterkind during the war. They are later appointed royal healer by the king and queen and has devoted themselves to the betterment of monster society ever since. They are the only human the royal scientist ever tolerated (although would you call sharing lab coats and beds tolerating or...something else?)

Information

-Species : mage (half monster, half human)

-Age : older than the barrier. As long as they will to live, it appears that a mage cannot age.

-Gender : apparently born a female, although it is unclear how sexual dimorphism develops in mages. Kraz does not specifically care.

-Soul : Green

-Height : 1.99m (6'5)

-Hair colour : Black (somehow iridescent ?)

-Eye colour : deep dark brown. Their sclera is grey as well.

-Build : sickly thin, actually skin and bones. They never eat much of anything, claiming that they do not need a lot of food. It worries people quite a lot, especially Toriel, but they have been like this for hundreds of years so... at least they're not dead ? Still, they scare the kids.

-Personnality : a sweet, calming presence. They exude an aura which makes anyone around them feel at peace. Although they are quite akward and generally anxious, they smile easily and brightly. Kraz is very friendly, caring, and kind to a fault. has quite an outdated manner of speech. A jokester. Always does their best to please people around them. Deeply devoted. Probably has some sort of attention deficit. Easily fascinated. Suffers from chronic bird behaviour (will bring you trinkets??).

-Likes : gardening, playing the piano, cooking, puzzles, collecting shiny trinkets, science, herbal medicine, cultivating bacteria, gift giving, late 1800's fashion, dark spaces, funny socks, Gaster.

-Dislikes : loud noises (especially clamoring crowds), being watched, sudden movements, bright reflective surfaces, small enclosed spaces, bitter foods.

Backstory

Kraz was born to a human mother and a monster father during the war, as mages often are. Abandoned by their mother, who could not endure the shame of their birth, they were taken under their father’s wing and raised amongst a small monster village. Early on, they manifested an extremely intense green soul and spectacular magical power, even for a mage. Although unequipped and unprepared to nurture such potential, the monsters in Kraz's community did their best to encourage the toddler's magical prowess, such as having them heal cuts and bruises, or speed up a few carrots' growth. But as war progressed, human armies swept through monster territory and eventually raided the child's village, pillaging and slaughtering everyone in their path. In these times mages were rare, being the product of monster-human relationships, but extremely sought after by humanity, who could only manifest minor magic potential. Stumbling upon the young Kraz and recognising in their physiology the traits of a "hybrid", human soldiers immediately identified them as a mage and took them away to be raised amongst humans. Their father, if he ever survived the attack, never stopped looking for his little bird until his dust settled on the ground. And so Kraz was raised in human war camps and settlements, amongst soldiers and other mages. Being so young, they only ever had vague memories of their time amongst monsters and soon put them to rest. As they grew, their healing powers grew with them, and it was soon clear to the commanders that Kraz may as well be the most spectacular healer that they had ever known, capable of rising men at death's door back on their feet and ready to fight in mere minutes. Suffice to say, as one of their greatest asset, they were sent from battlefield to battlefield, from division to division in order to rise the almost dead and reinforce the dwindling human forces. But they had a fault. Kraz, at their heart, was kind. Compassionate. Caring. And oh so, so young still, no more than fifteen. And the pain, the suffering inflicted by and to monsters broke their soul into pieces. See, despite all the propaganda, they could never quite bring themselves to hate monsters. Hate half of themselves. And so in the midst of the battle's confusion, in secret, they would slip a hand or a green bullet towards a bleeding frog here. A dusting lion there. They wished they could just run to them and pour their whole magic into the wounded, but the human soldiers watched them. Always. But eventually, as war was nearing its end, temptation was too great. They could take it no more. And so during a bloody battle, they slipped away from the soldiers surrounding them and ran to a fallen monster, who was already dusting away. A skeleton. The young mage fell to their knees, reaching for the monster's broken face with magic already at their fingertips and reassurances spilling from their lip, and poured everything they had left as the soldier tried to struggle and speak. He barely was able to call to them, in a language they didn't know, his bones just starting to reform, but fate is oh so cruel. Kraz could only slip their guard's attention for so long, and just as life started to flicker back in the man's face, they were torn off his bloodied body and promptly covered in his dust, their work undone by the fall of a sword. As the soldiers dragged the teen away, they could only claw down at the dusty floor to rack up the dust, and a nametag. Dingbats.

"Traitor", they were deemed. "An error of nature", "a freak", they were called. But a valuable freak nonetheless. Their magical abilities were still wholly unmatched through all of the land. They were needed. And so Kraz was beaten down, corrected, whipped back into shape. Into following orders. Royals spoke of banishment. Of a barrier. And they needed mages.

Finally, monsters were defeated. They were to be sealed underground. Kraz and the other mages assembled, staring down at a beaten monsterkind, a sea of eyes and bleeding hearts crying out at them as they chanted the words.

They couldn't do it. They couldn't.

They ran to them.

As the barrier rose up, this child fell to their knees in front of Asgore and Toriel and begged them to let them stay. To right this wrong. To help. They did.

And so Kraz poured their heart out. It wasn't easy, getting monsters to accept human help, even though they shared some physical traits. They slaved away for nothing in return, growing crops magically in dead ground and never taking even a grain of wheat for themselves. Endlessly imbuing water with their energy to create remedies for everyone. Only accepting the bare minimum of food to stay alive, even though they felt as if they were tearing this food away from the hands of the needy. They tried so, so hard to repair humanity's sins. Clear their name in the eyes of monsters.

And eventually, it somewhat worked. Instead of frowns, they were faced with smiles. Children stopped crying when they saw the healer's incomplete beak and started to spare them a smile. The elderly stopped refusing treatment from them. And even though they still had to face a seemingly unclimbable wall as they began further studies in medicine, biology and microbiology, chemistry, agricultural sciences, magical studies, anything to broaden their knowledge and help, they made it. (No thanks to the shy, awkward, standoffish and straight up rude engineering-chemistry-physics student which whom the king and queen pushed Kraz to hang out with. They said that it would "help the both of you, you kids would work beautifully together". Not that the mage minded, as a matter of fact they quite enjoyed his presence and always did their best to be agreeable and overall lovely company; but the skeleton never quite seemed to get over his absolute loathing of humans. Oh well, no matter. They'll keep trying anyways.). Eventually they did succeed and ascended to the position of "tolerable fellow student who I regularly hang out with" in the eyes of their adversary. When Kraz got their first doctorate, in medicine, WingDings even cracked a smile. And as the two completed their studies, the now mage-doctor was promoted to "acceptable collaborator". A win for the ages!

Kraz finally moved out of the derelict place they were practicing medicine in since the war to a more acceptable place (which was, well, their newly furnished house, courtesy of the royal family for their friendship and as a congratulatory gift for their doctorate) and kept working as always. But with an official title to strengthen their position, and what some may call a reluctant friend, things seemed lighter. Monsters were flocking to their office, business (which was still free but their patients insisted on leaving little somethings) was booming, their ties to their fellow "collaborator " deepening, and the doctor became sincerely appreciated in their community. Maybe not in all monsterdom yet, memories of the war never quite fading, but it was progress. Things were going well.

But it seemed that fate had other plans.

One day, plague broke out. The illness decimated monster populations, entire families perishing from an unknown condition.

And Kraz, oh Kraz, tried everything. Every spell, every potion, every cure they could think of. Nothing worked. They asked for help to the other healers, consulted with other scientists, even asked the engineers if they could think of something, anything. Nothing worked. They could only watch as the malady swept through monsters, powerless to watch them die, just like they did during the war.

No. No.

They would not stand for it, they would not STAND FOR THIS !! They will find a cure. At any cost.

They locked themselves in their laboratory.

One day. Two days.

Three days.

Six days.

Eight days.

Their colleagues had tried banging on the door, shouting at them to come out, to go home, they would not answer. They called for the doctor’s friends, to no avail. Eventually, it was WingDings Gaster, the royal scientist himself, to be at their door threatening them to “kick their feathery ass if it’s the last thing he does” in order to get them to open the damn door.

No answer.

But the royal scientist was a stubborn man. And when words failed, he proceeded to take the door’s security system apart and barge into the lab, only to be taken aback by the stench. He covered his non-existent nose with a sleeve and bit back the urge to let last night’s dinner see the light of day again, ushering the doctor’s worried coworkers away. It reeked of illness. It reeked of plague. The skeleton, being the only one without lungs and hence immune to all airborne diseases, made his way through the mess of papers, vials and…patches of blood and hair…to the form bent over his friend’s table. Kraz was staring straight at him with their big, beady dark eyes which seemed to be glazed over. They looked even paler than they usually do, which is to say whiter than snow, and seemed so frail that they could snap at any moment. Their face was also swimming in what seemed to be bloodied spit, over a mountain of papers scribbled with words that made no sense. Suffice to say, they looked like death itself. They looked dead.

It was as if Gaster’s bones were made of ice. Barely thinking, he grabbed his friend’s limp body, by Asgore were they TALL, and zapped away somewhere safe. Somewhere clean. His place, apparently.

He cleaned Kraz. Changed them. Laid them in bed. Listened to their delirious babbles, relieved that at least they were alive. In a moment of clarity, the doctor pleaded him to retrieve some instruments from their lab and conduct a series of tests on samples of their blood, which he was urged to collect daily.

“I need to help them Dings. Please. Please, I beg of you, do this for them. Or else I would have done this for nothing. Please.”

Eventually, the unthinkable happened. They got better, the little colour their cheeks normally had returned. As soon as the healer could walk again, they were out of their friend’s house and back in their lab (ignoring everyone’s admonishments). Barely a week later, there was a cure for the seemingly incurable plague.

Monsterkind was saved.

And everything was truly fine. Kraz was promoted to Royal Doctor (a fact they endlessly teased Gaster with, because Now you can’t boss me around anymore mister science man), was granted a whole department in the Hotland labs, and was now revered though the kingdom! Their promotion to head doctor was also accompanied by another, to the exclusive rank of “beloved special stupid idiot who gave themselves the plague” in the soul of a certain someone. They weren’t going to live that one down anytime soon. But well, when the royal scientist’s coworkers noticed that his lunch was packed daily in the common room fridge with “Do not forget nourishment today dear, I will see you tonight at our usual, -A stupid idiot “stuck to it, let’s say that the air in the Core labs was decidedly more pleasant. And Alphys, a young intern that the Doctor befriended during one of their numerous visits to their collaborator-friend-lover(?),  could barely contain her gushing to anyone that might listen.

Yes. Times were good.

Until a human fell.

[zebratimw]

Spirit animal SQH

[outlying-hyppocrate]

i have officially returned. ask me anything.

[icewindandboringhorror]

finally finished all of one character's entire quests/optional dialogue/questions/etc.... 100,000 words... .... aughhh

[hinaliix]

[syunkiss]

I might probably start smoking or drinking sooner or later. Or maybe both

[look-at-the-stars-tonight]

i've been thinking about simon heap a Lot during this reread

[camellia-thea]

initially this post had some commentary about interests right now. and then it turned into a ramble about personal healing in the tags. so the interest post is going separately.