#multiverseoflove

[chorusnihili]

@multiverse-of-love continued.

Ciara had been practically bursting at the SEAMS with excitement! She had woken up nice and early, eaten breakfest, packed all that she could fit into a light blue backpack, and bid the skeleton brothers ado! Admittedly, the walk from Snowdin to Hotland had been a bit hard at some points. She had to stop to drink as soon as she had crossed over to Hotland, the sweating sucked,(how do magic talking skeletons sweat anyways??)and the added weight of the backpack left her feeling a bit tired. Still, she kept up the pace until she finally got to the CORE entrance. Once there, she was very careful and doing her very best to be aware of her surroundings. Looking for irregularities in walls and machinery, attempting(and failing) to detect magic fluctuations, pretty much anything she could think of to keep herself concentrated on the task at hand instead of the fear of getting lost forever. Gulping, she finally finds herself face to face with a long corridor(hopefully the one the Doc mentioned) and steps inward. She doesn’t feel anything off until she gets closer to the end of the hall. “G-Gaster?” The doctor is an anomoly and that could be it but shs still found herself uneasy as she crossed into the room where the Doctor.

A long corridor, an empty room, and a sole elevator.

👎︎☜︎☜︎🏱︎ 👍︎⚐︎☼︎☜︎

It was noisy. It was always noisy--Hotland in general was always noisy, the CORE even more so, and Gaster's lab was somehow a mixture of distant rumbling and eerie silence.

The magic of noise reducing barriers.

The lab was pristine, silver and metallic hues and bright lights in the ceiling.

Except.

There was dust on the floor.

Plenty of other rooms branched from the main room, but the doctor was not to be seen.

[galaxies-unknown-a]

[ @multiverse-of-love​ || Asked for the bug mum!]

Well, she hadn’t anticipated this. Chrysalis has been wandering near the edge of the forest- the Everfree, a place not many ponies explored- in search of a certain pony. Instead, however, she found herself watching a white-coated, yellow-maned mare. Usually she would have moved on ages ago- there was no point targeting a single pony, that kind of catch wouldn’t help her hive in the slightest.

But maybe, the other would be able to lead her to a nearby town chock-full of ponies, if she was careful. So, the queen donned a simple disguise- a pegasus stallion with a dark blue coat, and darker still mane. Once it was completely fabricated, she stepped out from her hiding place.

“Hello? Hello, miss!” She was now attempting to get the mare’s attention.

[withoutcomedy]

CONTINUED from @multiverse-of-love

Ciara doesn’t even react as the other skeleton poses the question, eyes seemingly fixed at the wall behind him. How long had she been here now? It didn’t matter. “Ha,” her eyes tear up again despite having finally just stopped an hour before, “I-I don’t know. I ran, mostly.” She seems to curl into herself, pulling her legs up to her chest. “I know I fought if I had to and used my healing magic when I could.....” She couldn’t even bare to see his face right now, if she was being honest. Her body shook and her mouth quivered as she shut her eyes. “I almost wish I hadn’t.”

She takes a few deep breathes in and out methodically, trying to steady her voice, her breathing, her grip on reality.

Wish you hadn’t, either. The words itched at the tip of his tongue, hung over them like the blade of a guillotine ready to cut off their heads at any second. Yet, they remained unspoken and as if to physically wipe himself clean of his thoughts, he stroked down his hoodie in an attempt to straighten the fabric, that already hung heavily enough on his weary shoulders. 

“ah”, he then said, his voice hoarse, “i see.” 

“y’know”, he added after a pause, as he sat down next to her, eye lights studying the poor, frightened skeleton, he now considered to be the only family he had left in this world, “i, uh, probably’d done the same if i had healin’ powers.” He gave Ciara the most sincere smile he could muster. “so, uh, don’t blame ya self, ok, sis? you’ve done all you could.” 

She had; he hadn’t. But the truth was going to do more harm than good, he knew, always had known; and thus, he simply patted her head, before he asked: “say, didja see anyone else outside the lab? king fluffy buns maybe?” 

Fingers crossed, he hoped, he wished, that the anomaly had given up after all; that they weren’t alone in this god-forsaken underground prison.

[thesmokeymayor]

@multiverse-of-love continued from X

He could see the Imp shaking, Alastor did enjoy the atmosphere of a tense fear, unpredictability. He raised an eyebrow at her for her eventual answer but the smile remained as it always did. At least he was known to her, judging by her reaction anyway.

“Really? Is it truly just the age old idea that making a living motivates you?” He stood and observed her for a moment, assessing and thinking. “You don’t enjoy it even a little?”

[chorusnihili]

@multiverse-of-love CONTINUED.

The shorter skeleton listens silently, eyes teary and shadowed. Against her internal pleading, her skeleton body shakes under the weight of her thoughts, feelings, and fears. Almost subconsciously, she hugs herself.

Despite her fowl state and the way the room was partially blurred(god, how long had she been like this again? Clearly too long..) she attempts to grin as he speaks of his passion for science. God, how she craved to have one of her own. How she’d bend down shaking hands and knees to feel like she was GOOD at anything. That she could feel motivated to do anything when it wasn’t asked of her, for her own self…..but now wasn’t the time to share this, not yet. Instead, she continues to listen.

She smiles, a bit more genuinely than the first time as he describes it. She felt hope everyday since she had settled into life here. Whether it was Sans’s puns, Alphys support, Papyrus’s unending enthusiasm, or any other thing her friends did with and for her, that’s what they hadn’t given her; hope. Hope that life could be happier, fuller, and not always burdening. A tear threatens to fall out of her left eye socket but she manages to stall it by wiping her eye.

Watching the doctor’s head drop, she starts to reach out to him, concern coloring her eyes despite everything else between them. She lets her left arm fall onto his right shoulder, a silent show of, “you’re not alone” being reflected by the dull lighting in the room.

She finds herself clinging to him as he continues speaking, tears readily forming in her eyes and falling slowly. She had forgotten that tears could seem to weigh so much….

“I-I-” She chokes on her words, unable to fight everything spiraling in her head anymore.

How can I POSSIBLY how much that means to me? How badly I’ve longed to hear something like that? That even the act of me being alive is important in it’s own way. She collapses into his chest, clinging to him like a lost child.

The only response he gave to the desperate contact, the ... clinging was a sort of twitch of his skeletal mouth, uncertain how to really... react.

There was a time where he was a very affectionate monster, who greatly enjoyed contact, relished in it, even--but it was so long ago, it’d been so long since he’d really been ... loved in any way.  

Truthfully, it was a question he struggled with on his own.

Why continue existing? What was the point?

He was so heavily burdened with the past, with what he'd become ...

But he was still here and he could still influence the future.

For the betterment of everyone.

And that was enough. It had to be enough.

He didn't return the contact but he didn't force her off either.

"Truthfully, young one, the best thing you can do is seek out help. Monsters have a vast and varied repository of therapeutic research from when monsters were first forced underground.

"Understandably many were distraught and traumatized by the war and the various changes they were having to go through.

"While I worked as a therapist aide at one point in my life, that was many many years ago. Certainly there have been advances and I've forgotten many of the techniques.

"Certainly a change in a point of view can have a major impact. But in some cases it's not enough and there's nothing wrong with looking into other methods of coping."

[chorusnihili]

@multiverse-of-love CONTINUED.

Ciara was just doing her regular morning routine round of “good mornings” around Snowdin. She had given everyone a round at Grillby’s, sent her love to Alphys via text, hugged the skeletons brothers in bed, and greeted most of the royal guardsmen before stumbling upon something....unusual.

She had just finished up wishing Doggo well and was headed up to the fishing hole, hoping to get something new out of the phone that was kept in the water. Instead, however, she stumbled upon....a new monster!?? It was just playing in the snow?? Where did this thing come from?? “Hello there little buddy!” she kneels down, trying to get more on it’s level while keeping at least five feet between them.

He acknowledged he was being spoken to...if you could call the critical look that he scanned her with an acknowledgement.  Stared her over, from top to bottom with that singular white eye, unblinking, tips of his tentacles curling underneath him.

He gave a huff.

Continued staring.

[withoutcomedy]

🤕🤕🤕🤕 ~ with my UT S/I

Send "🤕" or "Badly hurt" for my muse to wake up from serious injuries and is now in your muse's care. -- @multiverse-of-love

"do you want anything?" Sans didn't need to look at his brother to know the answer. He felt the other's firm grip around his own weak hand, a tight push of affirmation, as his sibling guided him to the familiar entrance of his favorite restaurant. Through a storm of ice and snow, a world falling apart, they walked, until finally, they arrived at their destination: the bar in the middle of snowdin. Tinged in warm orange, Sans turned the doorknob, as all tiredness fell off him.

Then, it all came crashing down.

With despair, he noticed he was losing grasp on Papyrus, the safety, and comfort of his grip disappearing just beyond his reach together with pub and candle lights. Instead, deeper and deeper he plummeted into the darkness of his own hopelessness. Reality.

A single tear trickled down his cheekbone, as he awoke with a gasp.

Was this another reset? Another sick, demented run by the anomaly?

The soreness that ranged across his sternum when he slipped out of his sickbed and right into his fuzzy slippers, refuted this theory. But Sans didn't care for pain, or death, or resets. Almost robotic, he grabbed the bloodied hoodie he had found next to his bed and turned to the only other person in the room as he put it on.

"guess i failed, huh? honestly thought you'd be dust like the others. humor me. how didya make it outta that 'lab'?"

[chorusnihili]

@multiverse-of-love​  A Gamumu covering its trainers face? XDD

This is Tristan.

Tristan likes pulling the Gamumus’ tails.

Goodnight Tristan.

Bonus sketch:

[chorusnihili]

ヾ(⌐■_■)ノ♪:  what are your favorite band(s)/artist(s)?

GET TO KNOW THE MUN ヾ(⌐■_■)ノ♪:  what are your favorite band(s)/artist(s)?

I really like E Nomine, but I don't listen to them too much anymore. They're like, techno Gregorian chanting. Really unique. Also usually in German / Latin, sometimes Spanish.

Try giving Rad des Schicksals, Espiritu del Aire, or Der Turm a listen if you're looking for something unique.

I'll also listen to Linkin Park, Fall Out Boy, and Man on the Internet's Undertale musical, a lot.

[chorusnihili]

☘ : Does your muse believe in luck? How about fate?

RANDOM HEADCANON MEME!

"Logically speaking, no. The world is a cosmic pot of chaos determined by demonstrable laws. There's no meaning or reason to any of it.

"But I'm fairly certain my LUCK is negative..."

[chorusnihili]

🤕🤕🤕🤕

Send "🤕" or "Badly hurt" for my muse to wake up from serious injuries and is now in your muse's care.

He remembered what happened.

Of course he did--his memory was nearly flawless, and some things, some of the horrors that lurked in other timelines were simply ...

Unforgivable.

Having just enough energy to escape in a panic, to teleport to and collapse somewhere between Snowdin and Waterfall.

He sat up, slowly, sighing, grunting. Gaze was distant--staring off at something far, far away...

[chorusnihili]

The expression that looks the most fun to ya and the color palette that clashes the most with that face? owo

Expression + Palette Doc actually gets flustered super easily if you can figure out how to pull it off

[chorusnihili]

Emoji A5 in color palette A2? owo

Expression + Palette

"It's rather difficult for me to emote, unfortunately. Much like Sans and Papyrus, my mouth and jaw do not change shape much which can make me look disgruntled at best even when happy. It contributes to my, ahem, reputation of being rather aloof."

+Bonus human G doodle, who emotes a lot better.

+Bonus mobile doodle under the cut!

[chorusnihili]

🔮🔮

SEE INTO MY MUSES PAST! SEND 🔮 AND I WILL WRITE A DRABBLE OF A MEMORY THAT YOUR MUSE GETS TO SEE INTO.

The world is vast.

He is vast, too.

The Void bleeds into nothingness, and he bleeds into it; where he ends and it begins is inconsequential.

They are one.

For all of his existence, he has no presence, he merely is in an endless plane of darkness--but the darkness is not all that's there; there's color, too, streaks of undeniable beauty, glowing, twisting upon themselves, almost as if they were dancing.

They are nearly as infinite as the darkness itself, in nearly as many colors, and yet, it's not what attracts his attention.

Rather, it’s something else; small, almost imperceptible among the vast glowing streaks of time itself, but noticeable by how it glistens white in the endless darkness.  

He pushes forward, and a hand appeared to cusp that gentle spark, and vaguely, he feels the loss of children that aren’t his; watching as his son turns to dust in the garden, watching as the human child, already gone falls to rest among the dusty flowers.  He feels the pain of the desire of vengeance, feels the pain of his life leaving.

And yet, it’s all muted; for this is nothing more than a fragment, lost within the nothingness.

It’s broken, just like him.  

His hand closes around it.

He’d give it a home.

It might not be the same life it once had, but it’d be something better, a new reality, a new timeline, a second chance where things had changed--

A Delta Timeline.  

Pieced together from fragments like this--a home for the lost and broken, those who had been destroyed so mercilessly, and yet, still could find no peace.  

He’d create that peace, with his own two hands.  

The vision of some unknown entity, some unknown place and time faded away, and Gaster was kneeling beside Ciara, one hand hovering over her back as he gently removed her hand from the glowing spark of energy that had been released from the broken cartridge she was attempting to clean up.  

“I’ll handle this.  Are you alright?”

[chorusnihili]

Failure: Has your muse ever given up on an important dream?

FEAR-THEMED HEADCANON QUESTIONS Failure: Has your muse ever given up on an important dream?

This is a skeleton that doesn't know how to give up, even when it may be for the best.

[chorusnihili]

ლ(ಠ益ಠლ):  do you have any siblings?

GET TO KNOW THE MUN ლ(ಠ益ಠლ):  do you have any siblings?

Nope!

For your time, have a cat pic.