#monsterkind comic

[pieandsnails]

hello you three! how's it going? are you on the surface? how's chara there? where do you all live? (don't ask why i need to know that one) also how can you hear me? hope you don't mind me asking a lot of questions

[babyye]

[davestriderascend]

the first time i read homestuck i read it in two weeks. granted it was still updating at the time but i literally like. did not eat, did not sleep, did not leave the house or do anything but read it during that time period. so i think its only natural (and for the best) that its taking me much longer to get through this go around

[akanemnon]

What’s your opinion of Chara? I know the community is pretty split on if they were a good person or not and I’m curious of your stance on them and if it influenced the next chapter for their backstory

Also gotta say, love the comic. Keep doing cool things!

I said it before, but to me, Chara is a complicated person. Neither good, nor bad. Just morally grey. A kid who has been implied to have come from a very bad place with people who haven't been very kind to them. Arguably the very reason why they hated humanity. They got to experience the worst of it. Probably the first ever time they legitamitely experienced real love and kindness has been from Asriel's family. That honestly must have been very confusing for them. If you don't get to experience these kinda things, it is hard for you to properly process them later on in life. Not to say that they didn't love their new family. They absolutely did. Otherwise they wouldn't have been so willing to sacrifice themself without question for monsterkind. But their way to go about it, and the way they acted with Asriel was possibly just something they carried within themself from their old life. You adapt to your surroundings in order to survive and fit in. But in the same vein old habits die hard.

That is at least their characterization for Twin Runes. Everyone has a different stance on the matter, after all.

[bahgasdump]

I probably will never do a "GEAR-SHIFT Yellow" comic... but I will still make sprites!

More info below the cut

Roles:

Clover: No role change, but new name (Rowen)

Martlet <--> Dalv

Starlo <--> Ceroba

Kanako <--> Feisty Four

Chujin <--> Mo

Axis <--> Decibat (Decibot)

Rowen! A police officer in training that aims to keep EQUITY at all costs They jumped down Mt Ebott to investigate the 5 lost souls

AXIS A little wind up toy that, despite not having any sort of intelligence or consciousness: Is a massive prick. Winding it is heavily discouraged, as he'll just cause havoc due to being built a bit weirdly But can you really get mad? It was one of Chunjin's first toys

Martlet After the tragic death of her mentor, decided to help everyone she could with her carpentry skills! Recently, she's decided to help around the monsters in the Elden Catacombs, but due to her OSHA violating attire, she accidentally broke her wing But that won't stop her!

Dalv, the Royal Guard After having to encounter a not so merciful human, he decided he wouldn't let another monster be hurt by it again, and joined the Royal Guard right away! He's a bit better than Martlet, but he's still a big softie when it comes to friendship

Nine Tailed Fox (or her real name, Ceroba) Used to dress up as a Samurai for her daughter Kanako, but seeing as it not just brought her joy, but also to almost everyone in the West Side, decided to keep doing it, in order to keep bringing hope to those close to her But, sometimes... she gets a bit TOO in character

Kanako (Too young for a persona) Always following around Nine Tail Fox, wanting to one day, be just as strong as her! (basically Monster Kid)

Starlo... A simple corn farmer, he enjoyed this life, as simple as it were But... when he made a promise to that old innovator, to continue his research, and set Monsterkind free... He was set on that promise. And trust me when I say, he takes promises, very, very...

sirius.

Decibot The Central UG Library is a technological marvel, despite its main appeal being its books. But, as a library, it needs someone to take care of loud guests. (Sprite by my good friend Yoshi the Pyrosaur)

Mo A crazed con artist that, above all else, wanted to make a monster soul strong enough to be able to break the barrier, and perhaps even go toe to toe with a human He would test on anyone he could, be it on 4 volunteer farmers, to even himself Which, led with his own demise. But before he could die, he made the local corn farmer make a promise, a promise to finish his work.

Chunjin Just your local toy maker, he sometimes likes to go to different areas of the Underground to give out free toys to people passing by But of course, you can always donate a bit of money if you want

[papiliovolens]

Spoilers for up to Ch. 20

This drabble was written as an exploration for Nightmare's motives for Ch. 25, so it will have some hints as to how he will act.

it also hints at more multiversal mechanics going on in the background of everything

This is a glimpse at his interpretation and first impressions of Classic, courtesy of an evil overlord who thinks he knows everything :)

this also became a lot longer than i was expecting, so enjoy 1000 words of nightmare being nightmare

The multiverse was nothing if not predictable.

Regardless of its infinite multitudes, it followed specific patterns. Universes fed off nearby ones to fuel their creativity, forming clusters whose links became jumbled in a heated mess of wired connections. The universes' influences on each other were palpable.

Ultimately, universes could dissolve into basic templates through which each spread its roots into the larger multiverse to cement a place for itself. Thus, despite the multiverse's infinitude, it lacked any carbon copies.

It seemed everyone had a different idea as to why.

So, Nightmare relied on the patterns in each universe- how, regardless of their separation from other universes or how out-of-place they seemed, they acted in predictable manners. It made most missions comically easy once Nightmare conducted a little research. The current state of affairs between monsterkind and humanity, the existence and status of the Underground, and the presence of resets told him all he needed to know.

Even Dream's responses had become expected, although that was more due to his inherent benevolence than anything else.

So, yes- the multiverse was predictable to a reliable degree.

- Until a week ago.

Nightmare planned his missions meticulously. They did not fail. Perhaps delayed, and he occasionally needed to iron out minor kinks, but outright failure was never a factor.

The fact that Dream happened to be in the universe Nightmare chose that day was unfortunate, but it was an easy fix. He sent his men to the Capital with a single order, causing enough panic to draw Dream's attention away, and his plan was back on track.

It worked flawlessly for all of about ten minutes.

Nightmare's goal had been simple. Investigate one of the negativity spikes that plagued the multiverse as of late- the same that had Dream floundering like a fish out of water. For all his supposed wisdom, Dream had failed to realize that the emotional spikes were not the result of any 'affliction' or 'sickness' as he seemed to believe.

So when the spike Nightmare was tracking vanished completely, he had nearly gone into a frenzy, and Dream, unfortunately, sensed his sudden anger. His brother came like a moth to a flame, and Nightmare was happy to turn his frustration to his pathetic brother.

The battle had been going as he expected. The arrival of a Sans was slightly unexpected but hadn't even made a blip on his radar. He begrudingly gave the monster a bit of respect at how they managed to get Dream away from his for a few seconds, but it was child's play to find them and send the Sans off to the pits of whatever hell awaited him.

Oh, the way Dream's face had fallen felt heavenly. His face crumpled like Nightmare had not witnessed in decades, and- yes, he wanted to take a picture to make the moment last forever. The way Dream shook, his frown, the tears brimming at the corners of his sockets, the way his face twisted with the hopelessness Nightmare had always dreamed of-

And then the Sans, whose soul Nightmare had just shattered, threw a bone at his skull.

Nightmare was not ignorant of resets, but the situation screamed foul play. It had been nowhere near enough time for a reset or load to occur, especially since the Sans was from a different universe entirely.

Nightmare could not deny his interest as the Sans reentered the battle and somehow dodged him at every turn. Yes, skeletons tended to have a high tenacity for dodging, but few could bear to stand so close to his aura without collapsing.

Nightmare's memories toward the end of the battle were fuzzy. He remembered his brother finally releasing his fragile hold on his aura, enveloping the forest in its sickly sweet tones. Nightmare responded in kind- flooding the air with negativity to choke Dream out.

Then the Sans, somehow still standing despite the clash in auras, dared to grab him, and then-

Nothing.

Nightmare had not slept in a millennia.

He would have thought the same nightmares he inflicted on others on an hourly basis would fill his dreams, but his sleep was oddly peaceful. No demons nor haunting visages visited him, and he idled in the darkness of his mind for what felt like days.

The multiverse was meant to be predictable. It moved in expected and flawed ways, but ways that could be measured and recorded for future reference.

This Sans was an oddity—an anomaly. A strange mystery in a multiverse Nightmare had already scavenged for everything of interest to him.

There was no record of this Sans, Classic, anywhere until a month prior. It seemed he had fallen into the multiverse out of, quite literally, nowhere. While a universe suddenly gaining access to the rest of the multiverse was expected, what was not was the extent Classic had spread his influence in such a short time.

With Ccino's report, Nightmare wasted little time reaching out to the destroyer and protector. Error had appeared particularly peeved when Nightmare reached out to him, dismissing him until Nightmare uttered Classic's name. The destroyer had gone quite still, seeming to hover threateningly near a crash at the name alone, and a wave of nostalgia flowed over him.

It was a plethora of information Nightmare had not been expecting, and he happily bid Error farewell when he recovered enough to threaten to decapitate him.

Ink, on the other hand, was a dead-end. Getting him to talk was easy enough, but he hardly reacted to Nightmare's probing about Classic, stuck with that annoying blank look on his face. Ink only muttered something about a metal chair, blinked at him, and then greeted him with a child's enthusiasm.

And, of course, there was his brother. From his and Classic's interactions on that day alone, it was not difficult for Nightmare to glean the burgeoning friendship between the two, and the expression that crossed Dream's face at Classic's fake death began to make more sense.

It seemed Classic had undergone a rather unconventional introduction into the multiverse. The more Nightmare heard, the higher Classic raised on his list of utter buffoons.

It was strange. Unexpected. Exciting.

Nightmare had not faced a new mystery in centuries. His studies were his first venture into the multiverse outside of spreading negativity, and it had successfully occupied him for most of his existence. But then things got predictable. Nightmare found that, with enough time, any question at all got boring quickly.

Classic presented a new project with novel results.

And Nightmare was very, very curious.

[indigo-flowers09]

How did c!overtale Clover get to the surface? Is the barrier gone?

HOO BOY THIS TOPIC IS A HEADCANON AU BULLSHIT RIDDLED DOOZY IVE BEEN PUTTING OFF

look i made silly little drawings of me to make it more fun!!!

Clover, and all the other monster versions of the fallen humans, have…uhh… I’ll just call them bright souls. because i don’t have a name yet. it’s because of these bright souls that they can cross the barrier. i know it’s weird i’ll get to it.

but first, the barrier. The barrier is fuckin weird. like. the humans sealed the monsters underground with MAGIC??? i thought magic was a monster thing???? whuh??? and it can only be broken with seven human souls??? maybe i’m just crazy idk

so going off everything i know about the barrier (1. it’s weird asf 2. humans can cross either way and 3. monsters cant) how do i make it so monsters can cross the barrier and the story is even possible??? simple!

just make it so monster souls can be as almost as powerful as human souls so they can cross the barrier but still not be able to break it! and only sometimes!!! so simple.

okay. so.

The way a monster gains a “bright soul” is from unwavering determination. Usually only found in younger monsters, hence why all of them are children. They don’t have the understanding of the dangers of humanity that adults do, and they all strive for one thing: the freedom of Monsterkind.

They usually have something from their earlier childhood, some kind of trauma, that makes them realize how desperately monsters need to be freed and and they understand they are capable of doing such.

Very few monsters, such as Dalv, have survived an earlier event that i call “The Conflict,” that was referenced in the first few pages of the comic. At that time, fears of humanity were much lower, until violence would once again break out. Little to no monsters remained on the surface after that.

one last thing. Boss monster souls.

i sorta decided to shelve them, not entirely but making the ability to return to the surface a game of genetic chance was something i was NOT interested in. If that were the case, The Queen would’ve probably returned to the surface already and beaten August into a pathetic little sad guy puddle.

buuuuut boss monster souls do have a LITTLE bit of importance, they’re why Hope and Frisk’s souls are bright red instead of pale. Having inherently stronger souls plus a bright soul makes you a marvelous little mountain goat that’s for sure (i don’t know what it does yet except make their souls more red)

YEAH so if this is really confusing tell me i’m writing this at 1am and have no idea what i’m talking about please ask questions i love answering asks a full inbox makes a full tummy

okay baiiiiiii :3

[karmaspidr]

StoryShift CocoaPowder doesn't work.

Whenever I try to imagine CocoaPowder in StoryShift, I just see Clover and Chara arguing with each other or trying to kill each other. And it's not in the sweet way that the Classic verions bicker with one another. We'll be ignoring that StoryShift has its own version of the Justice Soul for this discussion.

Their doomed relationship ultimately boils down to this; Chara is a traitor who unjustly escaped their fate. Let me explain.

In StoryShift, Chara wasn't the first human. They were the eighth while Frisk was the ninth. Even though the six children that came before were killed, Chara was spared and adopted by the Dreemurrs while also getting a high-ranking job from Sans as the Royal Judge. Even though a human has formed close and friendly relations with a bunch of high-ranking Monsters, the war hasn't ended. The majority of Monsters still want human blood but befriend Chara anyway, oblivious to their true nature. Chara's identity as a human is (rather poorly but very successfully) kept secret and everyone just keeps waiting for the next human to fall and be murdered even though no one in power supports it.

Sans has been against his decision since day one, Papyrus had walked out on Sans when the decision was made and Toriel and Asgore were literally the ones who adopted Chara. Everyone with an ounce of authority is against killing humans but they do NOTHING about it and I doubt Chara would encourage them to.

Yes, Chara and Asriel were sent by Toriel to protect Frisk (in the Reboot at least) but I still find it unlikely for Clover to get along with Clover in a similar situation, especially considering Chara's blatant misanthropy. Heck, in a fan comic, Chara constantly sabotages Frisk to try and get them killed. This isn't very strong evidence for obvious reasons but when has canon ever stopped this fandom? Besides, I think this trait fits them quite well.

Yes, CocoaPowder works best as a slow burn, with the pair helping each other to move past each other's flaws, such as Clover proving to Chara that their hatred of humans is wrong, but there are limits to such things. At least in Undertale, Chara was the first and Monsterkind's opinion on humans remained pretty consistent after they died. Here, Chara is spared and barely any effort is made to save those who come after.

Clover would be furious at the injustice of Chara being protected and loved by every Monster while every human that came before and every human that would come after them is treated like an enemy. Chara would see Clover's constantly evolving mission to find the Fallen Children as just humanity trying to take away Monsters' freedom again. There'd be no middle ground for the two to stand on.

I just can't visualise them working out. Chara would constantly push Clover's buttons with their actions and opinions while Clover's thin patience would add to Chara's conviction that humans are inherently bad.

But, this is my opinion. If you think otherwise or have evidence to argue against or for me, then please share.

[riftfic]

17. Epilogue

The end is here.

Thank you, everyone, for staying with me till now. I've made two additional illustrations buried in the text below. :)

Happy Anniversary, Undertale. 💙

< Load | RESET

An incandescent future unfolded over the course of that year. Though far too familiar events repeated with frustrating familiarity, they arrived in new packages: some in bright and colorful wrapping, some in grossly damaged bags. Even if confusing and often jarring, most monsters expressed gratitude to have familiar yet unfamiliar lives awaiting. The additional security and a world more accepting allowed them to press on with more comfort than expected. 

Not all were as fortunate. Several returned to lives in pieces. Lost relationships. Humans that knew them, loved them, and had aged beyond them. Photographs of small children they might never conceive. Tombstones engraved with names of the living . . . sometimes their own. 

At first, Asgore and Toriel tried to shield you from the responsibility. This level of accountability, they said, should not rest on a child’s small shoulders. No one needed to know about your hand in the broken clock. 

You didn’t see it that way. Not knowing why their lives had been stolen, left wondering if their relationships could be undone again, only festered the wound. So you explained to them what had happened and why, and swore that it would not and could not happen again. Amazing, how forgiving monsters could be—not that they all were. 

For three months, HEART continued its search for monsters left behind. The moment Sans had recovered, he had jumped at the chance to join Papyrus and Undyne among their ranks. His unique teleportation magic served them well once he had a feel for those snaking, unfamiliar shafts and pathways. Places once difficult to reach suddenly became accessible. Dozens of monsters and their families owed him thanks, especially those trapped deep in the Ruins. 

None of them were Wingdings.

With this and all else he had set in motion to free them, monsterkind quickly came to love and respect Sans in a way he had never truly experienced. Sure, he had been a recognizable face in the local comic scene, the friendly smile at Grillby’s every other night, the playful hotdog peddler in Hotland, sentry and judge for the royal family, but never . . . this. If the swath of gifts and well wishes in his hospital room hadn’t been enough proof, Asgor went far enough as publicly honoring him. He hadn’t knighted him, thankfully—a fact Sans could not celebrate more—but he did proclaim something more touching than that. 

He named a star.

As a human, the first mention of this honor had underwhelmed you. Humans named stars all the time for science, for romance, for shits and giggles. What you hadn’t understood was that, to monsters, this meant far more than looking up and picking a distant flicker. 

Their people had evolved from stardust. While humans had a touch of this magic in them, monsters churned with this fire as their lifeblood. The celestial bodies, their very beginnings, were esteemed with enough reverence to be gods. 

Their banishment to the Underground had been especially cruel for this fact, and after such a long separation from the sky, marking their reunion with a new light was more than fitting. After all, when someone’s name was thought with enough intent in so many hearts, a star wasn’t only named; it was born. 

It was bright and it was beautiful. When viewed through his telescope, it nestled in a pocket of blue and gold fringed in red, much like the Ring Nebula, only light years from a star they had once named after you. 

“i don’t get it,” he admitted to you after the fact. “all i did was make up for somethin’ i did wrong. my motivations weren’t exactly heroic either.”

“Not all knights wear armor, Sir Sans the Star.”

“heh . . . and just what’re you gettin’ at, fair frisk the fart?”

You laughed. “It doesn’t matter why you did it,” you said. “You still did it. You brought back the dead, Sans. You deserve to be thanked for that, don’t you?”

You knew Asriel hadn’t been the one he wanted to resurrect. Even after the members of HEART had disbanded, he delved into the dark in search of Wingdings until his phalanges bled and his magic ran dry. All of you had begged him to relent, Asgore more than anyone. Not until every inch of the Underground’s remains had been scoured did he finally lose hope.

At least now, his brother’s name did not wither from memory like a dream in the morning light. For the first time, he could mourn him freely. He could share memories with those who knew him, find understanding in kindred spirits, and heal.

As one year on the surface came to a close, he finally found the courage to destroy the machine.

The spring sun crisped dewdrops from dandelions as you and Sans strode across his overgrown lawn. The skeleton brothers’ house, a cozy little two story chalet, stood half embedded in the steep hillside behind you. Its stilted, elevated porch overlooked miles of green forest and a babbling river inlet at the knoll’s foot, just as he had remembered. A long road wound atop the hill’s peak, passing from driveway to driveway to outline a comfortably spaced neighborhood. In the distance, Mount Ebott reached among smaller peaks for white clouds in a gold and pink sky. 

Under your arms, you each carried a folded mesh lawn chair. Matte black aviator sunglasses masked Sans’ eyes, though a cyan glow smoked behind the left lens. A pair of bright purple shields blocked your own. Following behind in a cloud of blue magic, the rusty, tattered block of a machine he called a “temporal flux manipulator” hovered helplessly a meter off the ground.

A safe distance from the coyote bushes dotting the property line, Sans shook out his chair and tossed it down beside a patch of naked buckwheat. You followed suit and plopped into your seat.

“countdown?” Sans requested.

Before you could start, he had flung the machine unceremoniously upward, nearly thirty feet into the air. At its very peak, he voided his magic. It plummeted into a satisfying cacophonous crash of metal and glass, as if a double decker had smashed into a brick wall.

“Three,” you said.

Two Gaster Blasters materialized over his shoulders.

“Two.”

Their unhinged jaws pooled white-hot energy in their gullets.

“One.”

Those wild-eyed dragon skulls unleashed two furious jets of dangerous magic. The light reflected in your sunglasses. Screams of raging power overwhelmed the once peaceful ambiance of nature. You both watched impassively, but perhaps just a little smugly, as what had once been a marvel of science was pummeled down into a flaming mess. 

The blasters dissipated, appeased. Both natural and magical fire burned high like a bonfire in front of you. You popped open a bag of marshmallows. Sans, meanwhile, emptied an old yellow envelope into the flames, then shrugged and tossed in the sleeve as well. Blueprint after blueprint shriveled away to embers, never to be crafted again.

“erase that, ya fat gameboy,” he muttered. 

Just as he reclined in his chair, a sputter of laughter spooked him out of it again.

“That was five years of our lives and 20 million G in government funding you just blew up.”

Sans whipped around, eye sockets wide and empty. You followed his gaze. The uncooked marshmallow you had been too impatient to wait for fell from your lips.

A lanky skeleton stood somewhat removed behind your chairs, clinging to a small paper bag and his own wrist. An orange laminate wristband hung above his bony palm, rugged from wear, and another rested alongside it in white. The sleeves of his loose, plum colored button-up had been pushed up to his elbows; the buttons down his torso had been fastened incorrectly, off by one. Something like apprehension and hesitation lit the small lights of his eyes, so similar to Sans’ and yet worlds apart. 

Sans’ hand shook audibly as he peeled the sunglasses from his face.

Wingdings looked exactly the same as he had nearly a century ago—no longer melted, his body whole—even if those awful cracks still split his skull. They had been mended, only scars now behind a thin but large pair of lopsided circular glasses. Though he had seemed joyful a moment ago, his smile slowly slipped away. 

At his heels, a small white dog panted happily. Far behind, at a bend in the road, a black Lincoln idled in park. Asgore stood leaning on the car door, watching from afar.

“I guess,” Wingdings eased past the silence, “it worked. Kind of. In a roundabout way. Basically, I was right; you were wrong. Congrats to me.” A small smile split his face again and his shoulders twitched upward. “Hooray,” he lilted weakly.

Sans had been creeping cautiously nearer, trembling, tracing that silhouette with the star of his left eye. Only inches apart, he touched the wristbands. The white one listed his name, his species, a mental hospital, and an admittance date—almost nine months ago. The orange band simply stated, “SUPERVISION REQUIRED.” 

Sans’ face was wet before he realized why. Every thought and feeling had been swept away until now.

“did you really come all the way from the void,” he hardly breathed, “just to rub it in my face?”

Wingdings stared down at him a long moment before his eyelights circled up into a cinched brow. He shrugged again. “Yes?”

Sans bubbled with laughter then, and Dings bubbled back. Next thing you knew, they were piled in each other's bones on the ground, happy, relieved, home. The Annoying Dog danced joyful doggy circles around them with a wildly flapping tail. 

From his vantage point, Asgore smiled with relief and found the resolve to approach.

“Oh, hey,” Wingdings said brightly when he noticed you nearing. “One sec.” 

He opened the paper bag and rustled around inside. The sound of pill bottles jostling like rain sticks only distracted you a moment before he surfaced something both considerate and serendipitous. Chocolate. Your favorite. A big, thick bar of the good stuff, the kind that melted in the mouth and made for soft and perfect s’mores. Your mouth salivated as you took the brick into your hands. The two of you were going to get along fine.

“One square at a time,” Asgore instructed you firmly.

You nodded.

“nine months?” Sans lamented playfully, tugging at the band around his brother’s wrist. “i coulda given birth by now. what happened? where were you? why . . .” Joy siphoned out of him. “why didn’t i know?”

At this, the anxious guilt Wingdings had forgotten sprang to life again.

“I’ll explain.” Asgore’s broad shoulders blocked the sun like a monument. His large though gentle voice stilled them all. 

“Your majesty, I can . . .” 

“I am no longer ‘your majesty,’” the great boss monster interrupted Wingdings with a smile. “I am your friend.” 

Dings relented, then, even if he fidgeted with the tags wrapped around his ulna and radius. Sans took his hand hostage.

Shortly before Sans had joined HEART, a small team had discovered Wingdings deep in the remnants of Waterfall. They had nearly given up their search when an annoying white dog barked after them ceaselessly. It led them to a dark alcove behind watery curtains, where Wingdings lay huddled in a corner, confused and nearly starved. 

“I was all bone,” Wingdings interjected shyly, but no one smiled. 

When he received the call that yet another skeleton had been unearthed, Asgore had raced to meet them almost as fast as he had run to meet you—but what he found was not the reunion he had hoped for. His smart, clever friend had been whittled down to a frightened creature with an ever fracturing hold on reality. With the breaking of the barrier, more than his grip on the rift had slipped loose. His mind had lost its bearings into a whirlwind of relentless psychosis. Excluding his early years in the void, Wingdings could not remember enduring an episode darker than this. 

Though warned of Wingdings’ catatonia and incoherency, the king of the underground immediately requested to visit him. He was glad he did. Something about seeing Asgore snapped Wingdings out of his stupor and into a brief moment of clarity, long enough to ask for help . . . and beg for the news not to escape, not even to Sans. 

“I didn’t want to be seen like that, marbles all over the floor,” Dings said. “And if I couldn’t be helped, well . . . I thought it would be better to stay forgotten.”

‘i didn’t forget you.” Sans’ grip on his brother’s hand tightened. “i mourned you. i thought you were dead.” 

‘I’m sorry.”

“I should have told you, Sans,” said Asgore. “Right away. I was torn . . . and the longer I put it off, the harder it became.”

Sans took measure of his heartache and decided it wasn’t worthwhile to blame them, not now. He had learned to forgive Asriel; he could absolve his brother and Asgore of this one misstep. He let the warmth of that metal bonfire and the sight of Wingdings’ tired face smooth over his soul.

“you don’t gotta apologize,” he sighed. “it sounds . . . scary.”

Windings nodded meagerly, but did not elaborate.

Asgore had placed him in a special care ward under the brightest human and monster minds he could assemble. Thankfully, humans had already researched three years ahead on this front. With their combined understanding of monster and human anatomy, they found a combination of physical and magical treatment that worked enough to stabilize him. The rest relied on therapy. 

“I’ll have sessions twice a week,” said Dings. “Asgore already agreed to take me, so if you have reservations . . .”

“reserva—the hell are you talking about?” Sans said. He had gripped his little brother by the shoulders, then, harsh at first but quickly gentle. Tears beaded in his eyes. “you think a little hot water’s gonna scare me off? you’ll be lucky if you get me off your heels!”

“It’s not over,” Windings said shakily. “I’m not cured. Something like this doesn’t just go away. It . . . sleeps.”

Sans deflated, then softly clutched him to his chest. Dings lowered his eyes, melting touch-starved into arms he had once lost hope in feeling. 

“i know,” Sans answered calmly. “and when it wakes up you don’t gotta face it solo. you’re not alone in the dark anymore. you’re home.”

Sans inhaled deeply, mercifully, as if he hadn’t truly breathed since the day he lost him. Saying the words aloud had released something inside him like puncturing a balloon. Everything felt pure and new: the weight of his brother in his arms; the scent of him intermingled with the neighbor’s freshly-cut grass; the warmth of his breath amid the late summer sunlight bleaching his skull; the glow of his eyes against the bonfire flickering strange their shadows. Nothing would let him forget this, not even the stars that began to glimmer out of hiding. 

“you’re home,” he said again, and this time his voice rattled with joy.

Wingdings held him very tightly then, desperately, and with it Sans knew he shared the sentiment. He smiled truly, deeply, never more whole, and hid it for himself in folds of wine purple cloth. 

“you made it.”

The End

Hear me now, hope you're listening It's been centuries, least what it seems to me I've been on this road, my eyes glistenin' Our past don't matter, I'm much stronger And fly much farther, soar overseas Finally, see, I'll keep on climbing Ridin' the lightning and I am sure

At times, I really didn't show What was wrong with me, wrong with me I told myself I cannot grow Without lovin' me, lovin' me But this is just the hell that lives inside Tell me now, where to? Please be my guide

I've been goin', goin' in circles Reoccurring dreams, talkin' in my sleep Then I'm floatin' up to the surface I can finally breathe, I could do anything And I don't know why it's all right And it's not at the same time Then I look up at a blue sky And I know

At times, I really didn't show What was wrong with me, wrong with me I tell myself I cannot grow Without lovin' me, lovin' me This is just the hell that lives inside Tell me now, where to? Please be my guide

"Lovin' Me" - Kid Cudi feat. Phoebe Bridgers

That's it. That's the end. :')

This has been an amazing journey. Thank you, thank you so much for reading through to the end.

I've been considering starting a new fic, a part two so to speak, that follows Wingdings as he reconnects with family and friends and learns to navigate his new life. Plus healing, as well as his mental health and trauma from the void. Maybe romance??? idk. A wholesome slice-of-life thing, much lighter in tone. I have scenes in my head already.

Thank you again. I have a surprise in store, so please don't unsubscribe just yet. ;)

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[gemknightau]

A new problem arises. Takes place after the events of this comic. Monsterkind's safety has been uncertain for a long time now, with humans invading the island to steal gemstones. The very fabric of this world has been torn open, allowing anything from beyond the au to pour in. A rift, if you will.

Those memorials would hold the gemstones of the former queen and king, but along with their lives, their gemstones were taken as well in an incident that happened years ago.

[fuzzwool]

fan art of Monsterkind by @enenkay -- screeches into the heavens about how much I love this comic

[bundleofboys]

HI HELLO. so i just stumbled upon your work a couple days ago, fell in love, subbed on patreon etc. i was on my 3rd day of rotating all the clubgoers around in my brain just to learn that YOU'RE THE SAME PERSON WHO MADE MONSTERKIND, which was like! a formative webcomic for me! i followed from 2015-2021 so no wonder i instantly fell in love with everything here, and i just wanted to let you know that your work was a HUGE inspiration for my own comics/storytelling! thank you so much for putting your work out into the world it's so so amazing to me still!!! <3

The idea that someone could fall in love with my work all over again without even realizing it feels incredibly special to me.

Thank you so much for such a kind and wholehearted message. I've been pretty down lately, so people taking the time to write to me like this is a huge pick-me-up ♥️

I really hope you'll continue to enjoy whatever I make next!

[babyye]

[mysteriousbp]

How accepting were the humans when monsterkind returned to the surface? Is racism something that monsters have to face daily, is it something they run into maybe once or twice in their lives, or somewhere in-between?

Mixed. There were humans that accepted, humans that weren't sure about having another species start to live along side them all of a sudden, and humans that were against the idea.

But over time most humans were more open to monsterkind when monsters were able to make life better for humans with healing magic being able to cure small wounds and monster food being made out of magic and not being able to spooil helped to ease the food resource problems.

And I'm not going to sugarcoat it. Yeah, there's racism. The rate being dependent on the locations.

You won't see it happening in the comics because. 1. The characters live in a monster city on the surface. So humans that hate monsters wouldn't live where the kind that they hate mainly lives. And 2: I don't feel comfortable writing that type of stuff. With Chujin, he at least has really good motives for why he hates humanity, and in my AU, I have shown that he isn't just a straight-up racist and has still a sense of humanity inside of him. But writing characters that are just straight up racist for no reason isn't something I want to do.

So don't be surprised if I ignore those types of asks.

[fineapplequeen]

Quick comic I did overnight

End molded into Sans's dust, he's part 'old monster' and part 'new monster'. 'Old monster' reffering to 'Undertale' monsterkind, sentient and mostly harmless, they lived underground of their own free will and sought to protect The End and Ender Dragon. The 'New Monsters' refer to 'Minecraft' monsters, no longer sentient and almost always hostile. End is an 'Old Monster' in Sans's body but his soul is that of an Enderman, a man who seeks a good end. He wants to revive 'Old Monsterkind'.

[wubbgang]

helloooo everyone! decided to make an askblog for my wubbox characters bc why not, theyre fun :] feel free to send asks about whatever, i’ll try to respond with sketches and comics as often as i can!

character info under the cut!

(all characters are genderless and use it/its pronouns!)

Deej - Common Wubbox

The last wubbox to awaken on Earth Island, Deej is a shy, uncharacteristically quiet monster, lacking any sort of voice with which to speak or sing. Though it tends to avoid most other monsters, it’s slowly gaining the courage to find some real friends, starting with the other two wubboxes of its island.

Bebop - Rare Wubbox

Another of Earth Island’s wubbox, Bebop is much more outgoing than its common counterpart, and is Deej’s closest friend. It’s very curious, and loves meeting new monsters and experimenting with robotic technology, using its electrical alignment to power its creations.

Zeed - Plant Epic Wubbox

The first Epic Wubbox in its entire archipelago, Zeed tries its best to maintain an image of competence and power, but isn’t immune to getting involved in its friends’ questionable ideas. It considers itself the “voice of reason” and “most mature one” out of all the Epics, which is only somewhat true.

Frozz - Cold Epic Wubbox

Chill yet chaotic in nature, Frozz is nearly the polar opposite of Zeed. While not too bright, it’s great at coming up with jokes and poor decisions. 

Greebo - Hybrid Epic Wubbox (Wubcorn...?)

With its very existence considered a massive anomaly within the monster world, Greebo originated from an accidental fusion of Zeed and Frozz’s power cores. Despite being one of the strangest things discovered in its world as of late, it’s still just a kid, mostly taking after its Cold elemental parent’s playful and mischievous personality.

Alva - Common Wubbox

Creator of the Wublins and one of the oldest wubboxes known to monsterkind, Alva is seen as a parental figure by many of its modern counterparts. Spending most of its time on Wublin Island raising its many “children”, Alva is almost perpetually exhausted, but still is willing to help the monsters of the other islands, particularly now with the recent rediscovery of the dormant Celestials.

Keeb - Screemu

Brash, rebellious, and irritatingly loud despite its complete lack of ears, Keeb is one of Alva’s eldest children. Though it often drives its parent and siblings insane, Keeb isn’t always a menace, and loves giving itself and its friends paint and ribbon makeovers for fun.

Vikath - Thwok

The first Wublin to be awakened, Vikath is one of the quietest of its siblings, preferring not to speak due to its overly long tongue. It prefers to stay away from the chaos brought on by Keeb and co, and tries to keep things relatively calm when it can.

Gnees - Poewk

Often short-tempered and grouchy, Gnees’ personality is somewhat similar to Vikath’s, but less tolerant of stupidity. On rare occasions it’ll begrudgingly help out Keeb with its misadventures, but would rather keep to itself, endlessly trying to perfect its musical performance.

Raydar - Water Epic Wubbox

The most reclusive of all the Epic Wubboxes, Raydar doesn’t often leave its island. From what the others have seen of it, it’s a sarcastic but easygoing individual, observing the antics of its friends from afar and only occasionally joining in.

Tekk - Earth Epic Wubbox

Loud and boisterous to an almost earth-shaking degree, Tekk considers itself the leader of Earth Island’s chorus, its intense nature showing not just in its song but its personality as well. It often strikes fear into those unfamiliar with it, but under the rough, worn exterior of its mechanical parts, it’s a good-natured and supportive friend, being particularly protective of Deej and Bebop.

Acer - Air Epic Wubbox

A rather air-headed agent of chaos, Acer is somewhat immature compared to its peers. It’s adventurous, energetic, and fun-loving, spending a lot of time hopping from island to island and visiting its many monster friends.