#so I'm trying to do this without a readmore so you don't get any of the other gillion sketches.. sad!

[toskarin]

Always slightly jarring seeing you post about anything 40k cause I always have the impression it's something you'd either be ambivalent of or passively dislike

my relationship with 40k is complicated! complicated enough to warrant a readmore

it's an aesthetically gorgeous setting of absolute misery and awe-inspiring violence to a ridiculous extreme. it's the aesthetics of the NWOBHM extrapolated and amped up as far as they can possibly be amped up, complete with little doodles of 60s era elric slathered in the margins

it creates so much beautiful artwork and so many interesting hypergranular interactions between individuals who have to exist in that kind of world, who have to continue on with their fundamental personhood pushing against an abjectly hopeless reality and no future worth living into

it's weaponised cathedrals in space that shovel corpses into their furnaces, five zeros added to every important number, a norse dialect of Future Latin existing entirely so that a linguistic technicality about the name "bjorn" can come into play like a macbeth prophecy, king arthur von gilgamesh is kept on life support so that everyone can pretend the empire isn't collapsing by worshipping his catatonic corpse like a nuclear power plant that produces divine will

it's a grotesque excess in all things! it's joke upon joke upon joke!

you can even root around a bit further and say "the little glimmer of hope that the imperium provides humanity is propaganda papered over the collapsing hopeless void of how bad things really are, and all of the cruelty is at once needless and pointless" if you want to get especially gothic about it

which I personally do! as someone who enjoys the fiction space allowed by nihilistic and terminal circumstances, it provides a lot of ink for that well

I quite like a good deal of 40k! I also can't stand it, and it's mostly not even because of how the fanbase acts about women, gay people, and the intersections of those categories that contains me (you've seen my blog theme. I'm a deep sea creature to that kind of stuff at this point)

even setting aside the starship troopers aspect of things, even setting aside the faults of the writing itself, 40k being the strut-skeleton of a wargame where you're encouraged to be (profoundly) financially invested in your faction by way of your army leads to some of the absolute most obnoxious powerscaling debates I've ever seen for any franchise ever

I'm trying to think of the best way to put this without coming off as overly mean-spirited, but if you look at the replies on any art of a character who is not a space marine killing a space marine, regardless of dramatic context, you'd be forgiven for assuming the artist personally threatened to cuck everyone in the thread

something that mechanically occurs in the wargame, which textually occurs in the written canon, will be litigated out until everyone gets to settle on the most boring possible answer and nobody dies who isn't expected to

and of course the franchise itself has a perverse incentive to play gently with those exact feelings! in the business of selling boutique plastic and faction rulebooks, there's a lot of money that goes up in flames if you make the primary buyers of your most sustainably reflavourable moulds widely popular miniatures feel like a lost game could be reflected in canon rather than just being some bad gameplay on their part

I can't really offer any particular synthesis of all this into a broader point. in the end, I can't stand the canon or fandom, and I'm also primarily endeared by the canon and fandom

or to put all that another way, I don't care about how the sausage is made, I'm not the one buying it, but I do enjoy the infrastructure that invites gratuitous textual accounts of sausage factory manglings and photos of their aftermath

I'm mostly just here for the yaoi and the dip pen art

[acorviart]

Europe VAT laws not changing any time soon, recent. If understand FAQ well, mean shipping to Europe impossible for several years minimum?

That's correct, I won't be shipping to the EU for the foreseeable future due to some import packaging regulations that either have already been implemented or are planning to be implemented in the future.

Note that this is for EU countries only—I can ship to all other non-EU countries like Switzerland, except for the UK due to the UK's own convoluted VAT system.

The only workaround I can offer for EU folks is that you can have a friend or family that lives in a non-EU country place an order to deliver to their address, and then they are able to ship that order to you marked as a gift. Not an option for everyone, I know.

Longer explanation under the readmore for those curious:

As it stands now, each EU country has its own system and fees that I can't keep up with (for example, France would cost me 80 euros per year), I'd need to individually register and report to each country, some require reporting and tracking of what sources of packaging I use, I believe? It's all very complicated, and it makes my head spin just trying to figure out what the requirements actually are, so that's why I stopped shipping to the EU entirely out of an abundance of caution. I also just don't get enough sales to the EU to justify the headache, I'd probably actually lose money paying all the fees. Actually, while I was looking up details while writing this post, apparently there's a new PPWR that's going to replace the old EU Packaging Directive? This is why I can't handle this (ಥ﹏ಥ)

As for why this doesn't seem to be affecting all companies—corporations can obviously afford their own professionals whose entire job is to handle this stuff, and the requirements are also different for large vs small volumes. Meanwhile, a lot of other small or 1-person businesses straight up don't know about these requirements, because it's not like there's a memo passed around about updates to international shipping law. It's also even more confusing because some packages are slipping by without any issue, probably in part due to how the regulations are still new and still being implemented, so I assume it's kind of a mess.

I know of a few people who are willingly taking the risk and shipping to the EU anyway and have had no consequences (for now at least), but I'm not risking the fines ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Now for the UK, their VAT system doesn't have anything to do with packaging, but what it does require is similar registration with the government, and I'm required to collect and pay the VAT myself. No thanks!

TLDR; laws hard. laws also expensive. too stupid to figure out and too fearful of fines. no ship to countries

fun story: someone also once emailed me this long diatribe about how they think I'm shit at research and that I'm just making all this up (specifically just to screw with europeans or something, I guess?), so I sent them a few links to the literal official government websites where I got my info (like that UK one), and they never responded. lol

[trinketstar]

what do you think of pomni and ragatha’s relationship?

It's VERY interesting. This ones gonna get long so I'm putting a readmore

They're definitely being set up as one of the most important dynamics in the show. In ep 1 they spent the most time together and each one since has had a notable moment of tension between them. It's clear that they're going to be good friends at some point but they started off on the wrong foot and haven't really recovered enough to really be friends yet. Rags is VERY focused on trying to befriend Pomni specifically, and Poms seems either disinterested or finds it overbearing.

The thing that makes Pomni different from the rest of the cast is that she isn't really hiding anything about herself. Everyone else is closed off or ingenuine in some way, whether they mean to be or not. Pomni is extremely honest and blunt. When Gummigoo told Pomni to tell him what he is, she just told him straight up. She's kind but still says what's on her mind. And that seems to be a quality she appreciates in others. Pom only connected with Gummi and Kinger because they both had genuine conversations about their feelings and completely opened themselves up to each other.

Now Ragatha is on the WHOLE OTHER END of things. She's trying to make nice. Keep the peace. If Gummigoo had asked HER what he was, she woulda made up something that sounded nice and perfect for the candyland story and told him to head home to his mom.

And of COURSE she's like this! She has to be roommates with this tiny handful of people for eternity! And if they get too upset they turn into monsters!! I'd be faking nice too!!

She clearly cares a lot for Pomni, genuinely. Ragatha is a person who craves companionship and wants to feel loved, and in an isolating place like the circus of course she'd be excited to get a fresh start with a brand new friend! It's a rare opportunity!

It's just that Pomni's whole life has been ripped away from her and she's got other things to think about right now. She's got little patience for the fake role-play adventures and that includes Ragatha's platitudes about playing along with them. All of these people are strangers to Pomni, and until very recently she hasn't been thinking about the others very much at all. It's less that Pomni is a selfish person, and more that she's still in shock and self-preservation mode. It's not until Kinger tells her to cherish the people around her that Pomni goes back to let Ragatha know that her efforts were appreciated.

But even though Rags loves Pomni genuinely and wants them to be close, she's not being honest about her own feelings. She clearly still holds it against Pomni for leaving her behind for the exit door, and is jealous that Pom became so close with Gummigoo instead of her.

Pomni's actions in episode 1 were completely understandable. She was in a blind panic. She thought she was going to die, and self-preservation is an instinct that takes over in those situations. But Ragatha is the type of person who represses her own feelings for the sake of making others comfortable, and she feels hurt that Pomni didn't act the way Ragatha believes she would have done in that situation, which is unfair of her. She won't be able to have a healthy relationship with Pomni until she actually talks to Pomni about it, or just accepts that Pomni didn't mean to hurt her and moves on.

But I get the feeling that Ragatha is one of those people that wants to avoid starting a tough conversation, and will ruminate on it without saying anything, and hopes that Pomni will read her mind and apologize without Rags needing to bring it up first.

But that probably won't happen, because usually people don't assume that their friends are secretly mad at them about something. And so it'll boil under the surface until Ragatha blows up and says something out of nowhere. And hoooo boy THAT will be interesting.

All that being said, weirdly enough I don't really ship them? Not with their current dynamic anyway. The fanart is adorable tho

[tingedautumn]

any charlastor fic recommendations? :)

HEEHEEEHEHEEE DO I EVER

i started writing a quick list, got carried away, and just went hogwild, so under readmore for length. the list is NOT comprehensive by the way, i grabbed the ones i had an immediate bookmark for but PLEASE know i have a solid twenty or thirty more in my favourites folder. feel free to send recommendations if you have any!

starting off strong with under my skin by queen whamgram. for those of you unlucky enough not to have read it, it's an ongoing canon compliant story following alastor and charlie falling in love and developing a relationship together, and it is literally always open in a tab both on my laptop and on my phone. just the best, best, best charlastor fic. i adore it so much. please read this story and then scream about it with me.

absolutely anything by @firebreathingrubberduck who is just an absolutely queen legend saint of charlastor smut, but a soft place in my heart is always reserved for i can explain, which is an au where charlie and alastor are roommates (alastor is a serial killer, and that's shockingly not the major obstacle in this story.)

i'm obsessed with split by midnightchemist, who has matched my freak on twitter too many times to count and whom i adore. it's a two parter, where through unforeseen events, human alastor is brought to hell to meet demon alastor and charlie. it goes exactly as you hope.

midnight fawn by justmondayagain is shockingly not smut! but it's a domestic au where alastor and charlie become parents and are handling a newborn. it's genuinely so soft and loving that i sometimes reread it whenever i'm feeling out of sorts, it just turns me into mush. the author has been adding chapters to it which is like every christmas present at once.

hallowed be thy name by yinyentwins was probably the first charlastor oneshot i ever read, and god what a perfect way to introduce me to the fandom. originally set as just the one chapter, it looks like the author is planning to expand, which has me SO excited. just a warning that it DOES mention consensual open relationship / infidelity, but it's not a major component of the story.

worship by shardetector is a two-shot of canon-compliant charlastor first time (and also second and third.) it's both soft and extremely sensual, and just a total delight to read. it focuses on alastor's point of view and just immediately starts in on the action, i'm a huge fan of this fic.

broadcast by carried_away is a SUPER CUTE human au. charlie and alastor become unplanned work partners to open charlie's rehabilitation center in new orleans, but face a growing opposition comprised of shady characters. the chemistry between the two is INSANELY good, but the author does a fantastic job of spacing out the scope of each character and their influence. absolutely loved this fic, and it's completed!

shadows in the bayou, by shirokitsune95, is an ongoing human(?) au that has got me absolutely enthralled. you know when you're reading a story, and the prose is just so gripping, and you don't realize you're finished the chapter until the last line? that's sitb. just absolutely stellar writing, and as it's only a few chapters in, the mystery and intrigue is really getting set up. there's immediate chemistry between charlie and alastor which i adore (nothing i love more than the two finding instant connection together and flirting without realizing it); i'm really excited to see where this one goes!

wrecking force by zirekile is my absolutely favourite professor / student au. erin won't see this so she can't stop me saying nice things here, but goddd i love the dynamic set up from the first few chapters. alastor is hot and cold but clearly drawn to charlie, and charlie is just such a cute goof trying to make sense of their insane compatibility. highly recommend.

i think you might be ruining me (i might like it) by gloriouscacaphony was, i believe, written in response to a tweet i made talking about how i wanted to see more fics have alastor just gobwild for charlie when she's touching him, and this fic delivered tenfold!!! canon compliant, simple one-shot where charlie blows alastor and he collapses about it, my FAVOURITE

you need to read both a stormy night in the hotel and the labyrinth by ventessa, because oh my goddd oh my god, oh my god. stormy night follows charlie and alastor's sexual awakening together and the development of their physical relationship - it's just supremely hot, well-developed, and surprisingly tender. there's insane character development even while they're fucking, which is the height of talent in my personal opinion. labyrinth is an au that hooked me immediately, where each year, contestants of hell navigate a mysterious and deadly maze; the winner achieves immunity from the annual purge. charlie enters to achieve immunity for all of hell, and meets the elusive and dangerous radio demon. currently, both fics are unfinished, but they're still worth the read i HIGHLY encourage it.

the devil in love, by shadow_logic. i actually recommend all the charlastor fics shadow_logic has written, but their fics are the kind you don't want to just shuffle through looking for distraction. shadow_logic is such a brilliant, clever, witty writer; you feel so accomplished when you get a reference they're putting down, and just so drawn in to every plot and twist. it's a rich and rewarding kind of story, each and every time.

impulse, by causa, explores one of my all-time favourite charlastor tropes - the mating rut. warning for infidelity within the fic, but alastor being just so down bad for charlie is my weakness, and he's this with the fic in spades.

i do, mrs malveaux by mochaangel HOOHOOOOO LEMME JUST SAY. MOCHA DOES THIS TIME PERIOD SO WELL. it's a human au where charlie and alastor agree to marry to mutual benefit, but not for love - or so they think!!! and there was only one bed!!!!!! as always, mocha knows what my heart craves and serves accordingly.

hush, hush, hush - here comes the boogeyman by thebonezone is a dark fic, but it is. so good. genuinely made me reevaluate myself after i finished. kat writes an au where human charlie accidentally (or not so accidentally) stumbles upon a demonic entity, who finds himself enticed with her. size difference comes out to play BIG time here, and there's definitely monster overtones (he's a demon harold) but my god, what a way to go.

behind the curtain, by devoted_stargazer, has a simple premise: charlie is shopping for a halloween costume. alastor is coming along to help her out of it. they fuck in a changing room (rosie i pray you have cleaners.)

talk to me, alastor by divinedevil has phone sex - in hell! another amazing fic with alastor down so bad for charlie; he goes from nervous to ravenous in about three lines. IDEAL setting.

preaching to the fire by mithril_owl. it's a priest au!!! mithril is one of my favourite charlastor authors - their other fics are just an absolute delight - and they very kindly allowed me to read over this one, which i failed to make any edits to because a) it was perfect, b) PRIEST AU PRIEST AU PRIEST AU!!! a oneshot with just phenomenal pacing and stellar chemistry, I'M A FAN.

to the radio demon on his birthday, by papercrane. this is one of my all time favourite one-shots, shockingly tame all things considered. it's a burlesque spin on the canon dynamic, and alastor is absolutely heart in his eyes head-over-heels obsessed with charlie. cherry-wine sweet and the smoothest pour, i adore this drabble.

puppetry by fluffyboots. krissie is one of those writers who just radiates talents. every update looks so effortless, and more importantly, every update delivers. puppetry is a canon-compliant au wherein charlie, before she begins her hotel, seeks to know her subjects better, and sets up temporary residence in cannibal town. she's drawn into the allure and intrigue, of course, but more specifically, she's drawn to alastor, the mysterious and charismatic master of the radio. this story is ongoing, and brilliantly, breathtakingly, written.

i would be absolutely remiss if i did not mention the charlastor classics, so without further ado!

the riddle of magic, by rubyfoxfire. i read up to chapter fifty in two days (sleep was not included) and was absolutely obsessed from there on out. ROM is canon-adjacent - it follows the general premise of the series, but deviates pretty far in terms of its own canon. ruby does a fantastic job exploring the evolution of alastor and charlie's relationship as alastor teaches her his form of magic. this fic is a long one, but i find it well worth the jaunt - it's got such a rich lore, strong development, and powerful structure. it might take you a few days, but you'll be the better off for it.

the taxidermist, by angelus19. this is probably the defining charlastor fic - even if you haven't read it, there's a good chance you've heard about it. the story is split between alastor and charlie's perspectives, and that can be jarring at first; that being said, there's a huge reward in keeping up. a scene told from one view gets new context in the next, and the chemistry is developed over several chapters. this is a human au, written long before the series aired, so the author really developed the lore as their own, and it's stunning. arguably my favourite part is that, once alastor admits he wants charlie, he is loathe to keep his hands off her. the fic has concluded in the spanish translation, and the english translation is just missing the ending!

smiling man by musevalentine. this is such a great fic; do not ever ask me to read it again LMAO. another human au, and a long one; the plot weaves a gripping narrative, and it's always that urge to find out what happens next that will keep you going. disclaimer, i do like this fic - i think it's well-written, well-plotted, and incredibly well-structured. that being said, i finished reading it at 5 am on a tuesday morning and literally just stared at my ceiling for three hours before i could get up after. this is a heavy hitter, and it's not a happy ending, but it's worth a mention in terms of older charlastor fics that are famous in the fandom. do not go into this expecting a good time, but don't miss the development by skipping it all together!

[corpupine]

I've been doing a lot of thinking...and I feel like I need to scream this out somehow even though I'm sure it's been talked about before (and I'm putting it under a readmore because it gets long).

No matter what, in any playthrough you do and any timeline you create.

UNDERTALE is a game about guilt.

You have Toriel, so guiltridden she couldn't protect her own children that she devotes herself to never letting another child leave again. And then they do!! over and over again, that guilt compounds until it's the center of her life and every choice she makes!!

And obviously Asgore, so guiltridden that he couldn't protect his own children from humans that he spends the rest of his days trying to get out and get revenge on them--as if that will stop the voices in his head saying, if you had been out there with them you could have stopped it, you could have stopped those humans from killing your children, and maybe he could have!! Or maybe not!! He'll never know and it eats him from the inside out!

Alphys, oh my sweet summer child this fandom does not deserve you!! Alphys, so guiltridden from her own perceived failures as a scientist that she began to try anything, anything to make the King happy, and it seemed to be working at first, and then it was so everlastingly worse, how can you cause something worse than death?? without even trying??

And it shows up in little ways, silly ways, too! Ways you wouldn't even think about as guilt! Undyne! She feels guilty that she won't let Papyrus join the Royal Guard so she gives him cooking lessons instead! Papyrus feels guilty that he's not in love with you after one date so he'll "keep being your cool friend and act like this never happened!"

SANS MY BOI don't even get me started. His guilt isn't as physically obvious but he made a promise to toriel, he promised her he would keep the human safe, and in timelines where you save everyone he follows you pretty much all throughout the Underground (even if he doesn't do anything to help smh) because he'd feel guilty not doing it, and in timelines where you kill everyone he feels guilty for not stopping you, AND in those SAME timelines he feels guilty for stopping you because it means he's breaking his promise to Toriel to keep you safe I!!! This boy can fit so much cosmic guilt in him!!!!

Asriel! FLOWEY!! Do you ever wonder if he feels guilty about being the one to wake up again? The one to survive, when Chara had to die twice?? He sits at their grave and he will do anything, anything to drown out those thoughts so he befriends and kills and torments and it's all the same and it's all useless!!

And their guilt compounds each others'! Toriel makes Sans make that promise because of her own guilt, which increases his! Asgore's guilt is what pushes Alphys so far past the limits of ethical science, because he increases hers!

And all of this, all of this, ALL OF THIS pales in comparison to you!!!

You!! The player! You return to the Underground after maybe accidentally killing Toriel or a few others because you didn't know, you never wanted to hurt them!! You listen to Flowey and you come back and you save them all!

You! The player!!! You cry at the ending and you'd feel guilty, so guilty about letting them all go, wouldn't you? So you ignore Flowey's pleas to let it alone, and you come back again, you say hello to your dear friends but this time it isn't the same, this time you kill them all because you want to see everything this game has to offer, might as well get your money's worth, the fights are cool, right?? And then you get hit with the most unsatisfying atomic bomb of an ending and the only thing left is your own reflection staring back at you from the black screen of your computer as the horror dawns, what have you done???

YOU!!! The player! You go back again even though there is no Flowey left to tell you to, and you save them all again because I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry, nobody deserves what I did to all of you, and it's all good, nobody remembers, and then you get to the end. The game knows what you did!!! It never forgot, and it'll make certain you never forget either!! Guilt!! Guilt, guilt!!! It's baked into the code of this game!!

Anyways tl;dr, maybe it actually did make sense to give this game to the pope

[menlove]

i saw on some of your posts that you say you aren’t an india truther, out of curiosity what do you think caused john and paul to have a fallout? do you think the resentment was more gradual and happened over 68-69? im sorry if you’ve answered this before but i love hearing about people’s theories of what happened in india and the aftermath.

sorry I totally forgot to answer this but for me.... hm. tossing under a readmore bc it got long oops

I think it was more gradual. like the way they act w each other in the get back sessions & just in general speaks more to something more unspoken happening than some big dramatic break up or rejection, at least to me. esp given how john & yoko lived with paul for a while in the summer of 68 (and talk about the world's worst throuple)

I wouldn't say I don't think Anything happened in india, but imo it seems more like.... I saw someone talking about how up until that point they were all on a lot of drugs & india was them getting off them for a minute & they sort of looked around and went "what the fuck are we doing? do I even know these people?" and that rings the most true to me I think.

some of the bigger reasons I have my doubts abt india being some huge thing where they fucked for the first time and paul rejected john are a) they still got along after that. things were weird but not much weirder than they'd been after brian's death b) paul wrote "i will" in india and I've talked before about how I'm 100% convinced that's about john and to me "will I wait a lonely lifetime, if you want me to I will" doesn't sound like the words of someone about to do any rejecting c) the infamous blowing the mic scene in get back is way too lighthearted and makes paul blush and giggle like they're just referencing fucking as a part of their relationship that happened enough to not be disarming. doesn't seem like john is being bitter or trying to egg him on and paul isn't reacting like someone that got called out for fucking john and then rejecting him. it reads more, to me, like just two lovers slyly joking around about a time they fucked that no one else can know about

which brings me to d) I'm also a "they had a sexual relationship" truther (which would be a whole other essay tbh) and so For Me Personally that just doesn't jive w smth big and dramatic happening in india. I just don't think they ever talked about what the fuck was going on between them, whatever it was, and then the typical band breakdown reasons coincided w a breakdown of their personal relationship as well. like just sort of dying out without much fanfare which can honestly be worse than some big rejection or breakup. and then ofc john goes full in with yoko and paul flounders around trying to settle down with a woman and marry her in such a weirdly frantic way. like that quote where he asks if he was supposed to be a 26 year old queer that never got married....... I would wager, imo, that things breaking down w john & then jane would've lead him to a bit of a Crisis about all that. but he found linda and went all in w her and she wound up pregnant so there you go.

which would lead them to a really weird place by the get back sessions, which I at least feel like is reflected pretty well- this awkward tension, paul's nervous desperation, nostalgia for the old times, lingering sexual tension. but not the attitude like they hated each other yet or had some big breakup or rejection. they're still joking and flirting, it's just awkward. the Big Moment would've been something else after that imo, probably john announcing he wanted a divorce but could've also been something more private that would go a long way to explaining why they were basically not on speaking terms at all by the abbey road sessions

again this is all Purely Speculation. mostly based on my more conflicting view from the fandom at large that they did have a sexual relationship and paul isn't as repressed/clueless as he puts on. so w those Two Beliefs in mind, this is sort of the trajectory that would make the most sense to me!

of course, without those two Core McLennon beliefs of mine I can see why people would point to india as the game changer if they think paul is a repressed bisexual who thinks he's straight while john pined over him. like it would make sense in that scenario if that's where the tension snapped & it was just a mess after that. but I very firmly and adamantly don't believe that so it's just hard for me to see the india theory as anything solid when there's a lot of other explanations for why india was such a shitshow

but all that is just me personally! don't have shit to back it up beyond what I can bring up about the evidence of a sexual relationship and paul being closeted that then lead me to these speculations based on that but yeah lmao

(and fun fact lmao whenever we publish it this is gonna be like half of the story of "i need you" so yall will get to see my fully baked opinion there mixed w just what I think would be fun or angsty dbshsjss)

[mwagneto]

okay phew. my thoughts on watson episode 1. might put a readmore coz it'll probably get long. anyway um

so 💥 IN MY OPINION 💥 it was not good but it wasn't bad either it's the exact perfect mid i usually get with american episodic tv especially one trying to adapt something from england. not even a complaint btw i would've been shocked if it was good. i do think they needed a much stronger pilot but it was like... fine? like i had a good time with it overall and then sometimes i went HRHRGH WHAT. but anyway let's go category by category otherwise this'll be even more incoherent than it already is. so yeah cut incoming this is gonna be long as hell i was right

1) characters

watson: i elaborated on this topic in an earlier post but to sum it up, i think watson's personhood, by nature of being the pov character in the novels, revolves so strongly around holmes that it's an incredibly difficult task to define who he is without holmes, and especially to portray it. so far nothing this watson has said or done made me go "he wouldn't fucking say that" but at the same time nothing's made me go "he WOULD fucking say that" either. no actually him immediately jumping into a waterfall without any hesitation coz he saw holmes go in was extremely in character he would fucking do that. but like that just comes back to the whole issue of like, that's in character for him bc it's about holmes. but the rest? like who even is he? esp here where he can't even be defined by his position in his society or his era or his city because he's in modern day americatown instead of victorian england. so like overall i like the guy but as soon as the scene isn't about holmes he stops being watson and just becomes generic medical show leading man. i'm very curious to see if they can manage to make me feel like i really am watching dr john watson instead of just a random guy. but again outside of not really being watson i like him he seems fun

adam and stephens: i don't know why the showrunners would fuck themselves like this like why are you making your job so much harder by having 1 guy play 2 guys. edit ok apparently it's literally coz the showrunner wanted something challenging. well i hate it. also i don't think the twin thing works on any front it just makes me very uncomfortable to watch a guy trying his absolute hardest to pretend to be two separate people. it sucks. hopefully their plots will be interesting at least. calling it now there's gonna be a plot where they switch places

ingrid: i like her she's really hot imean interesting but her energy is so millenial i feel like she's gonna drop an umm that just happened! any second now. but that's not the character's or the actor's fault it's just a vibe i get

sasha: i had to look up her name on wikipedia icl but i only know the other people's names because every time a name was mentioned i rewound and paused and said OK THATS [insert name]. DONT FORGET. she just didnt get a proper namedrop ig. anyway i have 0 thoughts abt her other than her first line being about her accent which then proceeded to completely disappear in her 3rd line and then come and go as it pleased for the rest of the episode was really funny. the adoption thing is interesting tho let's see where they go with that

mary: mary-s (maries?) tend to be very strangely written bc every time they're included the writer wants to do a subversion of the generic irrelevant wife from the victorian era stories so she's usually a plot relevant badass which like. i don't think that's necessary. like you don't have to be doing all that. like i don't mind i'm usually neutral abt any given mary i just think it's annoying that they all default to that instead of doing literally anything interesting. so it's a relief that i actually like this mary coz even though she's still the usual plot relevant badass, it's not accompanied by her being watson's epic cool girlfriend she gets to be her own person. like as far as i can tell they're not gonna get back together #i ❤️ divorce. she's even bisexual!! sweep

shinwell: whyyyyy does he talk like that omg. please. also guy from the east end is a criminal duuuuude thats crazy however do they come up with these. sucks so bad. i'm gonna like him out of spite but he's such a bad character what are we doing

moriarty: what can i fucking say man. why is he here. also the acting was so bad??? like wh??? ???? why was it this bad. i guess you could blame the script but like, second takes exist yknow. you can do another one if the first take sucks. are you aware. anyway i hate it when moriarty is a big bad but we'll get into that in a later section... can't say much abt his character he was only in 1 scene. usually i'm a huge fan of colourblind casting but i don't get making him a poc if you're gonna make him the horrible evil mastermind but hey at least he's not a black woman killing orphans for money like in enola. still don't know why they did that. getting off topic anyway why did he also get hit with the yankify beam. does anyone remember england. sherlock holmes was there

2) the plot

the episode's plot: it was... fine? like it was stupid as hell but it's a medical drama so whatever. patient needs mouse bites to live. this vexes me. etc. i do think the whole today☝️ we're 🧑‍🤝‍🧑 NOT ❌ doctors ⚕️ we're 😎 detectives 🕵️ was kinda cringe but it's like the entire premise of the show so it's very much a megszoksz vagy megszöksz situation. how do you say that in english. my way or the highway. take it or leave it. you get what i mean

the overarching plot: i mean obviously this was one episode so i can't reflect on the entire thing but i CAN look at the setups and think about them. it's nice that a major part of this show seems to be watson coping with the absence of holmes. i think they should focus on it slightly more, like acd watson's life was essentially over and pointless post reichenbach and i don't think they fully emphasise the severity of that but we only have one episode so we'll see. i am very very annoyed that moriarty is a presence at all in this show and especially that they didn't even have enough faith either in the audience or their own material to wait a bit before revealing him. episode one bam he's there and he's immediately named. it sucks. we do not need him. hold my hand. look me in the eye. it's ok to write a holmes adaptation where moriarty doesn't keep coming back from the dead. it's ok to have a different villain. or just regular ass criminals that aren't masterminds. it's fine. it's ok. you can just have moran if you're desperate. in fact you SHOULD have moran we're literally post final problem pre empty house this is moran's main time in the spotlight. but whatever what's done is done. i just think what's done is dumb as hell

3) the technical stuff that reviewers love talking about to make themselves sound smarter

the dialogue: chief. it's not good. like it's not outstandingly bad but there were some lines that made me go 😬 and some of them are just. so bad. eugh. like i alluded to in ingrid's section, if a script feels like it could smoothly fit an mcu style quip without it feeling out of place, maybe reconsider the lines you're writing.

the lighting/colours: i actually really like this, i think it gives the show a very distinctive look. i do think it's weird how ambient all the lighting is in this hospital but it's a lot nicer than the horrible white and blue you'd normally get, plus as a serial surgery haver i would much prefer to have this to the inhumane buzzing leds. not to mention i'm eastern european so compared to our hospitals, this place is like a spaceship.

cinnamon topography: i just watched brilliant minds last week which had some of the most beautiful shots i have ever seen and easily the most beautiful shots i've ever seen in an episodic medical drama which is unfortunate for this show because it's also very competent in this field but my standards are all the way up. but yea overall the shots range from generic-good to pretty good so no complaints there. i really liked the shot of watson and mary talking with the garage pillar separating them, and the overhead shot of a board that says WE LIE in big red letters made me laugh really hard

4) miscellaneous

my cat just crawled into my lap while i was trying to spell meschallenios everyone shut up. ok she was there for an hour and then left so back to it

acd story references: i always think these are fun and very satisfying to clock, and by god there were a lot of them in just this one ep. my episode was like 240p so i couldn't really observe the background details (to be remedied once i get my paws on 1080p) but even then there was a ton of stuff to go duuude 🫵 at. the 1881 robot (year study in scarlet is set in) which was then immediately revealed to be called clyde (elementary turtle) was really funny like why are we referencemaxxing. like i mentioned in the john watson post, i hope they won't overly rely on them, but it was fun to pay a little extra attention to everything to see if there was a reference hidden anywhere

5) overall

my general faith in this is. very little. a lot of people have a lot of goodwill for this show, both because of elementary (which i haven't seen sorry) and because of morris chestnut (who i didn't know before this but i'm very much the kinda person who prefers to not even know the names of actors) but neither of those have any impact on my opinion or my trust in the show, nor do i think it should. even if elementary was my favourite show, i'd still expect watson to win me over just by itself. i'm also very worried about some comments the showrunner made, especially the one abt adler being holmes's lover (what?? 💀) none of which inspire confidence but again that's not part of the show either and if the show itself is good, i don't care what the showrunner thinks.

but is the show itself good? i mean, it's not bad and i never expected it to be good. i'm a huge fan of holmes adaptations and have seen way too many of them (pretty much every single one that's not unwatchably bad, and then some) so i'm always hyped when there's a new one. i don't hate this by any means, i'm glad it exists and it was a fun way to spend 2 hours watching something that's 40 minutes long and then an entire day writing a review of it.

like i said at the beginning of this unnecessarily long post, it's perfectly mid with some tentative swings in both positive and negative directions which is probably why i was able to write this much about it. if it was good i would've just said IT SLAPS YAYY YIPPIE and if it was bad i would've said "holy shit this is the worst thing i have ever seen" and that would've been it but instead here we are. hope you're glad you spent the past 7 hours reading this instead of war and peace. thank you for coming and hopefully my review of episode 2 will be a more managable size coz lowkey what the hell am i doing lol. goodbye

[andreabandrea]

The AndreaBandrea UTY post

I need some place to put my Undertale Yellow (UTY for short) thoughts & criticism, and this is my blog, so I might as well put them here. If you don't want to see constructive criticism about Undertale Yellow, don't click below the readmore!

Pretty much everyone I talk to really likes this game, and honestly, I'm really sad that I don't like it more. I like some parts of it quite a bit! But I have mixed feelings about other parts-- I think the writing and characterization could have been a little more impactful than they were, and I’ll be discussing that here. I don’t want to just rag on this game without expressing suggestions and parts that I do like in more detail, so those will be covered as well. 

I also want to add a disclaimer that I don't have negative feelings towards the development team or fans of this game in the slightest. I have nothing but respect for the creators of Undertale Yellow. This project was obviously a massive undertaking with a lot of love behind it, and I'm glad to see that it's found success and a community of people who do enjoy it. 

The reason I’m writing this post is that, again, I liked parts of this game and wish I enjoyed it more. If I didn’t like it at all, I just wouldn’t engage with it at all anymore. I also haven’t really seen any other people expressing constructive criticism on the game’s writing, so it’s felt more important for me to express these thoughts, be heard, and see if others feel the same way. 

The Good

I'll start off with the things I like. The art, the animation, and the music are all fantastic. I was very impressed by the battle backgrounds and the little touches, like the way Clover runs. Clover doing things like reaching for other’s hands, giving fistbumps, drawing their weapon, changing their expression at times-- they feel very dynamic and fun to play as.

The music is really catchy and fun. I love the iterations on the battle theme-- Snowdin’s battle theme having bells, for example. 

I also had fun with most of the fights in the game! I liked the unique mechanics that came into play (e.g. the lasso in North Star's battle). I think that changing the way Clover attacks compared to Frisk feels organic and fun. 

I also love the mail system. Ever since you could deliver and receive letters in Paper Mario 64, I’ve been hooked on mail as a storytelling system in video games. I think the letters you receive are interesting and clever, and it’s a great way to keep past characters relevant in lieu of a cell phone. 

I’m going to be discussing criticism of the characters later, so I’m going to take a moment to talk a little about things I liked about them. I really like Martlet’s optimism and belief in humans. Starlo made me laugh quite a few times and the Feisty Five have a great dynamic with each other. A lot of the background characters in the game are fun-- I like the one who serves you at the Honeydew Resort. The fact that you can go back to these vendors later on and get four new topics to talk about is fantastic and makes the world feel a lot more alive. 

The Slightly Less-Good (and more disclaimers)

The writing is where the game falls short for me-- and it’s sad for me, because the writing is the heart of Undertale. I don’t think that the writing is bad by any means! I like the characters and story well enough, but- again- I just wish that I liked them more. I’ll try to incorporate suggestions so this isn’t just a total downer post without anything backing it up. 

I want to express something about the ‘suggestions’ that I’ll be offering after the criticism. I know that Undertale Yellow  is now out, and the team isn’t going to go back and change it now, and that’s totally fine. I don’t want to make it sound as if the team should change Undertale Yellow just because I have some reservations about it. I’m just one fan out of many. In the very off chance that a member of the Undertale Yellow development team is reading this--

First of all, hi! 

Second of all, I know that changing major parts of Undertale Yellow at this point is very unrealistic, and I wouldn’t want you to. If anything, I’m honored you’re reading my ramblings at all. I’d be touched if you’d be willing to take some of my words to heart as you move onto your next creative projects.

The reason I’m including suggestions, therefore, isn’t because I think that the team should or must make these changes, but because I don’t want to just sound excessively negative about this game without offering a little feedback. 

I don’t presume that my criticism and suggestions are objectively correct or better than what the Undertale Yellow team created. This is my personal blog, and these are my personal rambly thoughts about Undertale Yellow. The reason I’m including so many disclaimers is because I’ve gotten into discourse before due to poorly thought-out posts about Undertale, and I hope to avoid that this time. I don’t want to just not post something on my own blog, though, because I’m afraid it could be misconstrued or possibly upset somebody. So, I’m trying to discuss this as carefully as I can. 

As one final disclaimer, I'll say that I know that it was more likely than not that I'd be at least a little disappointed by Undertale Yellow. The original Undertale was a very important game for me, and very little could reach that standard. (I think this is one reason why Toby decided to do Deltarune, a sort of AU/spinoff rather than a full-on "Undertale 2", and I respect that decision.) 

I also think that quite a bit of my criticism is subjective-- several of the characters didn't fully click with me and several of the jokes just didn't land for me, personally. More people than you might think just didn’t connect with the regular Undertale, either. I’ll be talking a little about my subjective opinion on characters, but I’ll try to explain why I feel the way I do rather than just say, “XYZ character sucks because they’re lame, moving on.” 

With that said, the post. I’ll be addressing my criticisms from smallest to largest. To begin, I’ll recap the plot of UTY to better analyze aspects that I do and don’t quite like. Spoilers abound.

Undertale Yellow Plot Recap!!!!

The central story of UTY, to my memory and understanding, is as follows:

In the past, a fallen human being went on a rampage in Snowdin and hurt Kanako, the daughter of Chujin, a former royal scientist and monster who happens to be a boss monster. Dalv, an unrelated monster, was also hurt in this incident and sealed himself away in the Ruins in a self-imposed isolation. Chujin’s family (presumably him or Kanako, but not Ceroba, as she doesn’t recognize Dalv) felt bad about this and left him corn from Starlo’s farm as a gift. But, when Chujin died, the corn gifts stopped coming. 

Stepping back a bit, after the incident, Chujin developed a deep hatred for humanity. He invented a security robot called Axis and told it to go kill the human. Axis did this (and we will return to this later). Chujin kept the soul (at least, for a time) to experiment on.

At some point in this, Axis failed to impress Asgore and Chujin was fired as the royal scientist. At some point as well, he began to teach Martlet how to build puzzles. Martlet got a job in the royal guard and Chujin disapproved because humans are very dangerous.  

Due to experimenting on his own boss monster soul in an attempt to find a way to turn regular monsters into boss monsters so that monsterkind could potentially stand up to the threat of humanity, Chujin wound up very ill and then passed away. He left video tapes to his wife, Ceroba, asking her to finish his research. However, he asked her to leave Kanako out of this so she could live a normal life. 

Ceroba agreed to finish this research, but Kanako found out about it and asked to be experimented on because she, like her father, has the power of a boss monster. Ceroba agreed to experiment on her, which injured Kanako and caused her to ‘fall down’. Ceroba sent the near-death Kanako to Dr. Alphys, the new royal scientist, who was collecting ‘fallen down’ monsters for her own experiments with determination. 

Plot summary over. I’ll take a closer look at some of these aspects going forward.

UTY Plot Criticism

I don’t feel like this is a bad story, necessarily. With that said, it doesn’t feel quite as tied together as Undertale’s story does, and I think certain aspects don’t land. 

First, I feel that the majority of the plot elements about Chujin & Kanako get dumped on you at the last minute. You might be thinking that the story about Chara & Asriel is also dumped on you at the last minute-- and to an extent, this is true. You do get a massive amount of information regarding their story near the end of the game, in the True Lab.

However, Chara & Asriel's story is a massive part of the narrative from the very beginning. You meet 'Asriel' (Flowey) in the very beginning of the game. Toriel is in the Ruins due to the fallout of Chara & Asriel's deaths. Asgore and the monsters are trying to kill Frisk and steal their soul because of this, and the royal guard has taken it up as their mission. Sans is aware of an anomaly that will end everything (implied to be the player), and he would have 'killed Frisk where they stand' had he not made a promise to Toriel. And so on.

I’ll be reviewing criticism of the game’s plot in sections themed around each major character. I will be discussing suggestions about each character in their respective section here, as I discuss things I didn’t quite like about each character, my suggestions are intrinsically tied to why I didn’t quite like them. 

Dalv

The connections between characters and the Chujin & Kanako plot feel a bit tenuous to me. Similarly to Toriel, Dalv is in a self-imposed isolation in the Ruins due to a major incident in his past. He fears humans due to the attack he suffered in Snowdin, and he suffers loneliness  after losing his friend (who left him corn). When he sees Clover, he wonders if this is “some sort of haunting” (implying he knows that the human who attacked him was killed). 

In the pacifist route, Clover can prove to Dalv that not all humans are evil and Dalv can move out and learn how to trust people again. This becomes a recurring theme-- Clover, pure of heart, proving to monsters that humanity isn’t that bad after all. 

However, Dalv then disappears from the story. His motivation is to basically be left alone, but once you prove to him that humanity isn’t so bad, his role in the story is essentially complete.

I feel that, by comparison, Toriel’s motivation is more active-- to protect humans who fall down from Asgore. It’s this motivation that drives her to return at the end of the true pacifist route and ultimately make the true ending of Undertale possible.

Dalv’s passiveness makes him a weaker character to me. Now that you’ve proven that you’re his friend and humanity isn’t so bad, I would have liked to have seen him take an active motivation to protect his friend or help them in some way. We don’t have to copy Undertale beat for beat and have him dramatically save Clover from Asgore or anything, but it would have been nice to see him vouch for Clover in some way at some point. 

Now, for the final time, I know that UTY is released and major changes aren’t likely. Some of my suggestions are “I would have liked to see this, but this change would require redoing the entire game,” which I don’t think should or could be done at this stage. This is just daydreaming and- if I’m praising myself highly- potential considerations for the devs’ future works (and the works of any other creatives who are reading this). 

With this proposed major change to Dalv’s character out of the way, I’ll suggest instead the most minimal possible change that I would like to see, so my suggestions don’t feel entirely like just daydreaming. 

I really like how Dalv sends Clover a letter about his moving out to Snowdin. This is active of him in terms of motivation-- Clover is his friend and he wants to keep in touch with his friend. I’d be absolutely thrilled to see a little bit of extra dialogue for him in an update. After you go back to Snowdin and see him, I think the dialogue he already has is totally fine! But, I’d be really happy if he’d take initiative and tell Clover a little more about his experience with the past human, or invite them to rely on him, too. 

Martlet

Martlet felt… a bit restrained in terms of her writing, to me. I think that one aspect of Undertale’s writing is that it’s not afraid to go over the top. Papyrus isn’t just silly, he wears a costume every day and cartoon eyes pop out of his head when he’s surprised. Undyne isn’t just determined, she aspires to be a badass anime heroine. I like Martlet just fine, but she never had a moment where she really stood out to me in this way. 

Martlet’s defining traits are that she likes puzzles, she loves reading and abiding by the rules of the royal guard, and she believes in humanity and wants to help Clover. As I said before, I really like this optimism and belief. I’d like to see more of it. 

Near the end of the true pacifist route, Martlet says that she was taught in the royal guard that humans are scary, but Clover proved to her that humans are kind. This felt very abrupt to me at the time-- we know that Chujin disapproved of her joining the royal guard due to his own trauma, but Martlet had no personal involvement in the last human’s violent actions. 

Martlet doesn’t seem to have any reason to dislike humans more than any other monster. We learn in her diary that she essentially joined the royal guard out of a desire to help people and build puzzles, and also because she needed a job. 

If she’s just supposed to be a representative of the average monster and their feelings toward humanity, and her growing to like Clover is meant to represent how all of monsterkind could grow to like humankind, that would be one thing-- but I think that she specifically is meant to represent a person who wholeheartedly believes that humans can be good and that humans and monsters can live in harmony. In the no mercy route, she repeatedly pleads to Clover to do better, that they don’t have to act this way, that she wants to help them. That’s not the response of the average monster, who fights Clover or tries to flee from them. 

I believe the intention is that Chujin & Martlet represent either end of an ideology axis (no pun intended). Chujin believes all humans are evil no matter what, but Martlet believes that humans can choose to be good. But why does she choose to believe in humans other than a sense of personal optimism? 

I would have liked to have seen some defining event that made Martlet choose to believe in the goodness of humanity. I would have liked to have her being kind and optimistic to a fault be more of a defining trait-- to have that go over the top in an Undertale-style way. A lot of her interactions with other characters just personally weren’t very memorable to me. 

Martlet spends a lot of the game sidelined. She loses you in the Mines. She gets thrown in jail in the Wild East. She has to go back to Snowdin once you're freed. Yes, she's there for you in the true pacifist route, but she's otherwise pretty absent through the neutral/true pacifist routes.

I recognize that the main characters in Undertale can be absent after you leave their respective sections of the game. However, you're able to call Papyrus & Undyne as much as you want, and you get a major hang-out (or “date”) with each of them and Alphys which gives time to expand on their backstory and character arc. Martlet doesn't get that. We even get a little bit of time to hang out with Dalv after we become his friend, but Martlet shoves us on a boat and hurries us to the next area as soon as we beat her. And sure, we get to talk to her on the boat, but it’s just a bit of silly dialogue-- it doesn’t really expand on her character. It feels like a missed opportunity. 

So, yes, my major suggestion on her would be to zoom in more on her belief in you and let her be a liiiiitle sillier and more over the top, and give more opportunity for Clover to hang out with her. 

At this stage, however? In this proposed minor ‘dialogue update’, I’d be really excited to see a little something more from her. Maybe a letter? She does send you one, but only in the neutral route to tell you to meet her on top of the apartments. It would be a good opportunity to either let her be silly or explain a bit about when she came to want to believe in humans-- or both, ideally. 

Starlo

I honestly have very little to say on Starlo. He seems to be the fan favorite, and I did find his section fun! Ultimately, though, he's just kind of… there? I mean, he's on the periphery of Ceroba's (and Chujin and Kanako’s) story because he's her childhood friend (and his family grew the corn that Chujin gives to Dalv), and yes, he later on reminds her that she can still choose to be a better person because he also almost killed Clover! However, every monster in the game almost killed Clover.

There’s nothing wrong with having a silly character who wears a costume and isn’t a major player in the plot. I feel like Starlo is similar to Papyrus in this way. But Papyrus isn’t just a goofball, he’s the monster in Undertale who believes unerringly in Frisk & the player’s ability to do better because he firmly believes that you can make anything happen if you just try. This belief helps elevate Papyrus from comic relief to an actual rounded character. 

I don’t feel like Starlo has any sort of strong conviction like that. We do learn that he wants to bring hope to the Underground by roleplaying as a sheriff in the Wild East town, giving them a slice of (supposed) surface life. I think this is fine, but I’d like to see a bit more of it. In the no mercy route, he does bravely stand against you because he’s a sheriff and it’s his job to bring justice to murderers like Clover. 

My expectation when I first met him, a fellow cowboy (gender-neutral), was that he’d have his own ideas about justice. I expected that he would clash with Clover about these ideals, and neither of them would be quite right or wrong-- and this would prove that justice can’t be measured mathematically, and one outcome can’t be applied to all situations. 

But, he’s not at all bad the way he is. He has a lot of fans, after all. The minor change I’d suggest now that the game is out is that I’d be interested in learning why the cowboy aesthetic specifically appealed to him. Maybe a diary in his room explaining that Westerns are the epitome of ‘justice’ to him? I’d like to see a peek into the motivation that transformed an ordinary farm boy into someone who could bravely stand against a murderous human. 

Ceroba

I’ll be honest. I want to like Ceroba, but I don’t.

I understand that there's an attempt to mirror Asgore in that the war against humanity, in general, has taken Ceroba's partner and her child from her-- and ultimately, Clover forgives her and helps her learn how to move on. It's about letting go, just like Undertale. I get that. But Ceroba’s story doesn't land for me, personally. In order to talk about Ceroba, I need to talk about her husband, Chujin, because Ceroba spends so much of the story acting out Chujin's will. 

Whereas monsters in Undertale do attempt to kill Frisk and steal their soul, and Asgore has killed other children before, it's framed in a very 'video game' violence sort of way (again, Undertale has these meta elements). Ultimately, in the True Pacifist route, none of Frisk's deaths have stuck, and Asgore's actions- while reprehensible- allowed for Asriel to break the barrier once and for all.

Chujin, in the video tapes he leaves for Ceroba, implies that Axis’s murder of the human- presumably a child, like Clover and Frisk- was very violent and bloody. It feels a tiny step beyond the 'video game violence' aspect, for me. While it’s shown that Chujin regrets this, it still doesn’t change the way that this violence is expressed in the game. 

Instead of giving the human’s soul right to Asgore to bring monsterkind closer to freedom, Chujin- who has already been fired by Asgore, I should add- chooses to keep the soul and experiment with it.

This is very selfish, even though he has good intentions. He’s told nobody else about his experiments with his soul at this point- not even his wife- and Asgore has told him to cease all activities as the royal scientist. 

While monsters do want Frisk's soul for their own selfish reasons, they notably do not butcher them violently, succeed in this, and still try to get painted with the same quirky and fun brush that the other characters get. 

After Chujin dies, he leaves detailed instructions for his wife to continue his work-- and although he says "don't involve Kanako", he leaves her all the tools she would need to experiment on Kanako, and notably, no other way to finish his work except to experiment on Kanako.

As I said, Kanako finds out about this and asks to be experimented on. And while she does give consent, she is a child. I cannot stress this enough-- she is a child who just lost her father and is still wracked by grief. Kanako is a child who cannot possibly know what she is consenting to. 

Ceroba chooses to experiment on Kanako and more or less kills her. And then she chooses to send her 'fallen down' daughter to Alphys's experiment, despite the fact that Kanako presumably has some sort of trace of human soul/determination left in her-- which could have compromised Alphys's work as well.

Let's return to how I said that Ceroba is a mirror for Asgore. She's made so many mistakes and it's cost her her family and she can't stop now or it will all be for nothing. She's done horrible things, just like Asgore.

But the difference is that Asgore is the king of monsterkind. Asgore has no desire to kill human beings. He declared war on humanity in a fit of anger and grief, but the Underground had lost hope due to the loss of Chara & Asriel. Believing that Asgore could gather seven human souls and free them all brought hope back to the Underground.

His actions, while wrong, are selfless-- and much less explicitly violent and more 'cartoon violence'-like. Chujin & Ceroba have the well-being of monsterkind as their own pure intentions, but their actions are far more selfish and violent. Axis, Chujin’s creation, massacred a human being. Yet we're still expected to find them silly and fun and relatable-- it just feels unusual.

I’m not someone who hates nuance or morally gray characters. One reason I’m so sad that I don’t quite like Ceroba is that I love morally gray women. It’s just that we’re not allowed to really dislike Chujin or Ceroba for what they’ve done, and instead we’re supposed to see Ceroba- and Axis- as silly and relatable like the rest of the characters. 

Immediately after Ceroba’s boss battle, instead of processing what just happened to a greater extent, Clover chooses to sacrifice their soul for monsterkind. 

I understand that the intention is that Ceroba's grief and Chujin's desperation to protect monsters from humanity contributed to Clover's decision to sacrifice their soul. However, the idea is- to me- abrupt. Ultimately, too, Clover's decision is just as much about how much they love their friends (and how it's impossible for them to hide out in the Underground forever) as it is about Ceroba and her family.

Chara & Asriel’s deaths, Asgore’s war on humanity, the war of humans and monsters-- these elements impact every part of Frisk’s journey. But Chujin and Ceroba’s actions, while impactful on Martlet and Dalv to varying extents, are only part of Clover’s journey. And Chujin and Ceroba did awful things for this comparatively minor impact on the plot. 

EDIT: Further analysis about how Ceroba doesn't have a lot of agency and spends a lot of the plot just acting out Chujin's will, as well as the inconsistency in her characterization (and feelings about sacrificing Clover and the well-being of Kanako), with input from @carlyraejepsans. Thank you!

I would have liked to have seen a bit more from Ceroba without any influence from Chujin- maybe an interaction explaining her relationship with Martlet and an additional conversation about Martlet’s nearly unwavering belief in humans vs Ceroba’s inherited grudge against humanity- but I don’t know where this would fit in. Adding more time for Clover to process Ceroba’s boss fight before sacrificing their soul might throw off the pacing. 

In general, though, Ceroba's boss fight- while flashy and fun- ultimately feels pointless with how little she learns from it and how quickly she changes her stance on using Clover's soul for the benefit of monsterkind, and what will happen to monsters after they break the barrier. To quote @carlyraejepsans in the ask linked above:

In addition, it's like the writing didn't want to commit to her delusions and little character development. She feels that her daughter is alive and thinks she can save her—wait no that was a lie—wait it wasn't. The moment she's defeated she goes "Agh, what was I thinking!" out loud (which is already a questionable writing choice imo but i digress), and recognizes that sacrificing Clover for her plans is horrible... and then 5 seconds later Clover chooses to sacrifice themself to break the barrier and whoops nevermind she's suddenly the one getting the others onboard with the idea... wait. didn't she say she was making the serum because the humans would've only slaughtered them again if they broke the barrier? oh wait wasn't that also chujin again? whoops.

I would have felt better if there were more room to view Chujin and Ceroba in a critical light (and time to view Ceroba outside of just being a mom and wife). I can’t think of any ‘minor’ suggestion that wouldn’t require a lot of editing. 

Axis…

And... okay. Let's talk about Axis real quick.

I want to give the dev team the benefit of the doubt, but I need to point out that this security robot's name is "Axis 014." If you don't know what I mean by pointing this out, I'll just say that both of these terms are nazi dog whistles and allow you to look up the specifics.

I recognize that, by this point, it’s too late to change his name. I’d at least be grateful if the team would acknowledge this and confirm that they aren’t nazis. 

Axis’s name makes his actions far worse in retrospect. He, as a security robot wants to kill a child, but he isn't able to anymore because his programming has changed. So, as a legal loophole, he forces them to hold 'a weapon' (a trash can lid) so he can justifiably kill them. This is the same robot that brutalized and murdered a human being in the past at Chujin's behest.

It feels tone deaf and ultimately the one thing I’d just outright call bad about UTY. I don’t think it was intentionally done this way, but I don't like that we're supposed to find this nazi-aesthetic police brutality robot "quirky and relatable" like the Undertale cast. In the true pacifist ending, he falls in love with a robot made out of a trash can and his eyes turn into cartoon hearts and etc. It’s even more jarring than viewing Chujin & Ceroba in a fun/relatable way. 

In the no mercy route, Axis will defend himself and claim that his programming forced him to kill the human and he didn't want to. This "just following orders" defense feels weak to me as well, personally. Axis clearly delights in harming humans, going out of his way to try to kill Clover. But also, Axis spends a significant amount of the game displaying a very similar amount of free will to the other characters. He’s not just a janitor robot that sweeps back and forth. 

He’s a nearly sentient being-- and the fact that there are these nearly sentient robots makes Alphys’s accomplishment of creating “a robot with a soul” (at least, so she claims-- Mettaton is only the ghost in a machine) much less impactful to me, personally. Yes, Asgore thinks that Chujin failed in creating a sentient robot, and so it’s impressive that Alphys supposedly did it. But I don’t know why Asgore wouldn’t be more skeptical of Alphys’s accomplishment after Chujin failed more than eight times and set fire to his flowers. 

I think that Axis is ultimately a missed opportunity to make a really villainous character. This concept that he disobeys his programming- used as sort of a parallel for law, as a security robot- to attack Clover could have been explored to further the ‘justice’ theme. He doesn’t write his programming (the laws), he just carries it out (violently enforces the laws). 

The ‘minor’ suggestion I’d make, though, is to just acknowledge the name. 

Undertale & Meta Elements

Now, we’ll be addressing my largest criticisms-- the omission of meta elements and the way Flowey is written.

Undertale Yellow never quite stopped feeling like a fan game to me. And it is, of course-- but I think that it feels as if it tries so hard to be Undertale (in the writing style, the humor, etc) that it fails to forge an identity of its own, and that holds it back from being just a fangame to a fangame that succeeds in expanding on the original creative work. 

At the same time, although UTY tries to feel like Undertale, I don’t think it captures certain elements that make Undertale be Undertale. 

Whereas Undertale was ultimately about video games as a medium and the normalization of violence in them, UTY doesn’t have this level of metatextual commentary. UTY does have a running theme of 'justice'-- and I don’t think this is bad! After all, if Undertale already said all there was to say about video games and violence, why retread that path? I respect that UTY knows its limits and simply focuses on justice as a concept instead.

At the same time, Undertale isn’t just an RPG about mercy-- it’s an RPG about RPGs. The fact that you can talk to and spare enemies isn’t just a quirk of the game, it’s what the game is about. This is one thing that makes Undertale great that UTY doesn’t focus on.  

UTY doesn’t completely ignore these elements, of course. Flowey takes over resetting for you, and you do have three distinct paths based on whether or not you kill enemies-- the ‘true pacifist’ path, the ‘neutral’ path, and the ‘no mercy’ path (I will not be calling it the ‘genocide’ route, especially in light of recent world events). Through whether or not you choose to kill enemies, the theme of ‘justice’ is explored-- who is Clover seeking justice for? In the true pacifist route, Clover seeks justice for the monsters, while in the no mercy route, Clover seeks justice for the fallen humans before them. 

However, Flowey taking over the mechanics of saving and resetting for you makes concept of ‘the player’ obsolete. I recognize that not everyone in the Undertale/Deltarune fandom quite enjoys the concept of 'the player' and the meta elements of these games due to the fact that there can be implications that playing Deltarune (as an example, which ups the meta elements quite a bit) can actively hurt Kris and make their world a worse place. However, Deltarune isn’t a complete work and we don’t know this for certain. Additionally, I feel as if at least acknowledging Toby's intentions are important to analyzing the work, no matter what one's personal feelings are about them.

The Importance of the Player

The presence of you, the player, is important in Undertale. Frisk is a subversion of the 'blank slate protagonist' trope. You think that you're able to name them and control them, but in the True Pacifist route, Frisk begins to act on their own (they walk slowly in some parts of the True Lab because they're presumably afraid, etc). In the end, you realize that Frisk is their own person with their own name, and you as the player have to let go-- when Frisk & the monsters go to the surface, Flowey (a mirror of the player themselves) urges you to let them go. Don't treat this as a game anymore-- don't replay and wring out any last drops of content you can. You enjoyed it, now move on.

But many players want to see the No Mercy route because it’s the last thing they haven’t done in the game, and they don’t want to let go. And that's where the role of you, the player, becomes undeniable in the game's story. What is the No Mercy route except playing a 'typical' RPG in the way it's meant to be played? You grind to become stronger, killing every enemy that stands in your way. And when you've killed all the monsters and become as strong as you can be, you've won.

Many players didn't do this because they hate the characters in Undertale and want to hurt them-- if they hate them, they likely just wouldn't play the game. Many players did it because they like the characters in Undertale, and wanted to see what would happen. They couldn't stop playing. And this is exactly what Sans means in his dialogue during his boss battle-- to paraphrase, "you think that because you can, that means you have to."

This is one of the ways that Flowey is a mirror of the player. Flowey didn't start killing out of malicious intent, but because he had become so bored and isolated that he just "had to see what happens".

Chara's role at the very end of the No Mercy route is to call you out directly for this. They tell you that their power was yours. Their words were very misconstrued by fans for a long time, and they themselves wound up as a scapegoat for the No Mercy route-- but ultimately, there's no reason for Chara or Frisk to kill every monster in the Underground. The only reason is because of you, personally. You want to see what would happen. You want to grind and play it like a typical RPG.

They call you out for this if you don't want to delete the game world at the end. Why go back to that world that you've already destroyed? Why play nice with the monsters that you just massacred because you can?

Why am I talking about this at such length? Because I believe that ‘the player’ and how they interact with the world of Undertale is important. Characters lampshade the UI and battle mechanics often-- Flowey talking about the world as a game and ‘saving’ and ‘loading’, Papyrus telling you to “press C to open the dating HUD”, Sans explaining ‘LV’ and ‘EXP’, and so on.

This is my personal opinion, and I recognize this is very nitpicky, but I feel that not acknowledging this or adding to these meta elements in some way makes UTY weaker for me. 

Flowey’s Role in UTY

Flowey essentially saves and resets for you because he's bored, and he wants to use Clover as a tool to access Asgore’s five stored human souls. His role as a mirror for the player becomes him essentially just acting as a stand-in for the player. While this in itself can invite self-reflection, I think that the execution of his role is a little awkward. 

We learn at the end of the neutral route that Flowey has already reset the timeline hundreds of times by the time we first start playing the game. According to him, Clover always ends up at a dead end (they choose to stay in the Underground for the rest of their life) or they die (and they can’t reset of their own power). Thus, Flowey chose to set Clover on an alternate path by sabotaging a lever in the Ruins, which made them fall into the Dark Ruins and meet Dalv.

Flowey then tries to kill Clover and absorb their soul because they, again, hit a dead end. Yet he gives up on it after a while because Clover won’t stop fighting back, and he thinks he can just reset and try again anyway. 

At the end of the true pacifist route, Clover instead opts to sacrifice their soul willingly to Asgore & monsterkind. Flowey comments that he could just reset (and you still can, if you want to play again), but Clover “earned their rest” and he calls them a friend. 

This progression from “Clover is a tool that Flowey is using to access the 5 human souls” to “Clover is a friend and Flowey willingly lets them die and stay dead” feels undeserved and underdeveloped to me. 

"But, Andrea," you might say, "Flowey went from trying to kill Frisk as Omega/Photoshop Flowey to hugging Frisk as Asriel really quickly too!"

Yes, but in that short time, Frisk and Flowey/Asriel had a Whole Thing where Frisk 'saved' him like everyone else and he learned he needs to let go, too. It was a short time, but it was a poignant time. By contrast, Flowey is pretty much absent throughout most of UTY's true pacifist route. Sure, you could easily say that he just got bored of Clover and gave up-- but that, too, doesn’t feel quite right to me. 

I really hate to say this, but I feel that Flowey’s writing in UTY cheapens the original Undertale for me, which is why this is one of my major criticisms of the game. 

Flowey's entire character arc in Undertale is about how he was stuck with the same places and same people for an endless amount of resets. In my opinion, the limited amount of places and characters for him to interact with in Undertale only adds to how trapped he is (and the Underground being so small really strengthens the concept of "there's overpopulation and the monsters are running out of time to find a solution/earn their freedom" that we see in the game, but I digress).

So when something finally changes and he meets Frisk, it's deeply impactful to him. Finally, someone new to play with! Finally, potential for change! Even though Flowey admits that, even if Chara came back, there's a great chance that he couldn't really love them due to his lack of soul, just experiencing something new for the first time in ages is as close to love as he can possibly get. So Flowey:

Starts to believe that Frisk is Chara, this person he ‘loves’ or wants to love, or some manifestation of Chara. 

Refuses to let Frisk go, even if that means- when Asriel has the power of seven human souls- just resetting the Undertale timeline over and over instead of going to the surface or doing anything else.

For Flowey to have gone through everything that he does in UTY- all these new places, all these new people, Clover included- weakens this, in my opinion. And sure, there's very heavily implied to be lots of places that Frisk doesn't explore and people they don't meet-- 99% of New Home and its residents, for instance. But Clover themselves is the real problem for me.

No matter how many times Flowey reset with Clover, I really struggle to believe that he would get bored of a human being that easily. He even said that Clover's actions and choices would sometimes change from reset to reset, and he only recently learned how dramatically he could alter their path by sabotaging that lever in the Ruins. Clover isn't a static being-- and even if they were, they're at least a new static being.

And although we learn in the neutral route that Flowey can't really absorb Clover's soul because they fight back too much, I can't believe that would stop Flowey so easily. What about at the end of the pacifist route, where Clover has given it up willingly and it's being transported in a little jar? Clover’s body is separated from the soul, now-- could Clover still fight back?

Or, what about if Flowey tried to kill them as soon as they entered the Ruins? Or, what if Flowey played nice the entire route and then at the end tried to convince Clover that if they sacrificed their soul, he would take it to Asgore for them? With access to full control of the timeline, I don't think Flowey would give up on this. We learn in Undertale how painful it is for him to be soulless and how desperate he is to access power so that things will change.

For Flowey to acknowledge Clover as a 'friend'- maybe even a true person, not just a compilation of dialogue- suggests character growth. It suggests remorse for his resets that he isn't capable of having and doesn't have until the events of Undertale. I just don't feel like it’s earned. 

Flowey is, of course, an unreliable narrator. 

At the end of the no mercy route of UTY, Flowey expresses that he never saw Clover as a friend-- he only enjoyed watching them die over and over again. It should be noted that this was said while under extreme duress (Clover is LV 20 by this point and has killed everyone save for Asgore), and this route isn’t canon in the way that the neutral and pacifist routes are. 

With that said, if we agree that Flowey can’t feel love as a soulless being, then I could argue that this is about as much of a ‘friend’ as anyone could be. This is how he wanted to keep Frisk (“Chara”, in his mind) for eternity when he had the six human souls + the entirety of monsterkinds’ souls-- just watch them try over and over again, for eternity. 

Why am I contradicting myself? Because, let’s suppose that Flowey doesn’t mean Clover is a ‘friend’ in the traditional sense- that they earned his respect and he cares for them in some way- but Clover is a new toy that he got bored with and gave up on. I feel like this, too, makes Undertale a little weaker. 

If Flowey did have some type of positive regard for Clover, but was willing to let them go, then it feels- to me- like Frisk’s role in his story isn’t that significant. Frisk helped him learn how to let go and move on, but Flowey has already demonstrated being capable of this. The circumstances are different- if Flowey gives up at the end of Undertale’s true pacifist route, it’s over for real, whereas if he gives up at the end of UTY, he can just wait for another human to fall- but I feel like the core feeling is the same. Flowey, by the start of Undertale, doesn’t strike me as someone who’s capable of letting go. 

So, how would I have changed this?

I recognize that- again- Undertale already made these points about video games and violence, and Flowey has his entire character arc in that game. For Flowey to have more of an arc in this game would potentially make this game no longer line up with canon Undertale or weaken Undertale further. And why retread old ground that Undertale already talked about?

I respect the decision to tell a self-contained story, but the meta commentary about video games in Undertale is so significant for me that I personally would have liked to see a bit more of it in Undertale Yellow. I also recognize how much of my criticism of Flowey’s writing in UTY is subjective. It feels unrealistic for me, his arc feels abrupt for me, it makes Undertale less poignant for me. 

A lot of people love his inclusion in this game, and it’s very novel to see Flowey as a friend throughout most of UTY and hear his snarky commentary on demand rather than having him as an enemy who’s absent through most of the game, as he is in Undertale. 

The Flowey Suggestions

First, I’ll be honest. I know this is not and has never been possible, but my easiest solution to the dilemma of Flowey’s lack of a character arc- and the lack of an ability to give him a character arc- would have been to just remove him from UTY. 

I think that Flowey’s inclusion in the story of the yellow soul human and his role saving and loading could have been interesting. It goes against certain story elements implied in Undertale, and popular fan theories-- and I don’t mind that, if something meaningful is done with it. But, I feel as if Flowey’s relationship to Clover isn’t impactful enough to justify including him. 

To clarify on ‘implied story elements’ and ‘popular fan theories’: 

While I might be misremembering, I thought that it was implied in Undertale that Flowey came into being after Asgore had already collected six human souls, and that a significant amount of time had passed since the last human had fallen down. 

I won’t go into it at length because this post is long enough and I, again, am not an Undertale expert. With that said, it’s also implied that all human souls are capable of saving/loading/resetting in the Underground. If you make Frisk tell Asgore that he killed them before, he just nods as if he’s used to it-- and he’s the one character who we know has killed humans before.

Now, how did Asgore successfully kill beings that can just reset the game whenever they die? Well, Sans faces the same dilemma in Undertale’s no mercy route. There’s no way that he can permanently defeat you, the player, who is a real being. Therefore, the way he ‘wins’ is by infuriating you enough with his difficult boss fight until you give up and stop playing Undertale (or, at least, reset and make better choices). 

Think about all the times you’ve played a game, got stuck on a hard boss, and never played it again. While it’s not ‘canon’ to the story- giving up on your copy of Mario doesn’t mean Bowser really wins- functionally, giving up on a game means that the story ends for you. This is how I believe Asgore captured the six human souls, even if they were also capable of resetting like Frisk is-- he fought them until they gave up.

Humans all are said to have great amounts of ‘determination’, not just red soul bearers. We don’t even know what trait the red soul exemplifies. Whatever it is, I don’t think it’s determination itself. 

The bottom line is that I don’t think it would be unrealistic for Clover to be able to save/load/reset on their own, or for Flowey to not exist yet during the time they fell down. 

But, I get it, Flowey was in UTY’s demo that has been out for seven years. He’s in the trailers. He couldn’t be removed at any part of development, and he sure as hell can’t be removed now. 

My second suggestion would have been to zoom in on him, instead. While the prequel is about Clover, the yellow soul human, I would have liked to see it be about Flowey in a significant way. I kept hoping for Clover to have an opportunity to ask Flowey at some point, “why are you helping me, anyway?”.

This is my personal interpretation, but I’ve come to believe that Flowey thinks that the reason he’s stuck as a flower is that it’s a punishment. Because he, as Asriel, refused to fight back, he failed Chara, and now they’re dead. Now he’s stuck as a rinky-dink flower with no soul, he can’t love his former family, and he can’t stop playing this game. 

In the no mercy route of Undertale, Flowey feels very much like he’s trying to appeal to Frisk- the person he believes is Chara- in a way like a younger sibling trying to impress an older sibling. He says he’s impressed by how you killed everyone. He helps solves puzzles so you won’t have to slow down. He brags to you about how he’s also a heartless killer. 

Notably, he talks about his past. He tells ‘Chara’ that he was afraid to start killing, at first. He said he wouldn’t enjoy it, but he just had to know what would happen.

Then, Flowey laughs and says that you (Chara) know how liberating it is to be this way-- to kill people and shape their fates. He ‘recognizes’ Frisk as being actually Chara because of how they killed everyone in the Ruins. 

But we have no indication that Chara was a violent or evil person in their life. I believe that Flowey is partially projecting and partially recognizes Chara because, in the last moments of their life, they were telling him to kill. He always knew that Chara hated humanity and wanted power to better the position of monsterkind. This is why Flowey brags about how he has a plan to get the human souls, and once they do so, they can go to the surface and “finish what [they] started.” 

To Flowey, in my opinion, killing people isn’t just about seeing what happens. It’s about trying to understand and appease Chara and doing what he thinks he should have done all that time ago, as Asriel. 

I bring this up because I think that I would have liked to have seen this be explored in Undertale Yellow. Flowey is still a very misunderstood character today due to being an unreliable narrator. I believe that a lot of Flowey misinterpretations are due to taking him at face value-- hearing him say that he’s an unfeeling, manipulative, patient killer and agreeing with him.

But Flowey contradicts himself at several points. He gives up his “catch these friendliness pellets” trick after you dodging just a few times. These aren’t the makings of a perfect manipulative killer, but an impatient child. That’s who Flowey is at his core-- a child. 

I recognize that, again, if Flowey told all of his tragic backstory to Clover and they became true friends, this wouldn’t fit with canon Undertale and his actions in that game. Flowey and Asriel distance themselves from each other, and it wouldn’t make sense for Flowey to tell this to Clover-- especially if he just views them as a tool to use and play with. 

I think, however, it wouldn’t have been impossible for Clover to have learned this information about Flowey in a way that could still be canon compliant with Undertale itself. Hypothetically, maybe the “hopes and dreams” statue in the UG Apartments near the Core could have sparked intrigue in Flowey. 

Maybe analysis of Flowey could have come up during his neutral route boss fight-- after all, Clover appears to peek into the minds of Ceroba and Martlet during the true pacifist and no mercy run boss fights, respectively. We already get a little of this- Clover has to run through a hallway of flowers in Flowey’s boss fight, and we hear sad and scared dialogue that’s presumably from a past version of Flowey himself. However, it’s not necessarily new and doesn’t quite add to Flowey’s character in my personal opinion.

I feel that including Flowey’s story more in some way would justify having Flowey in the game, and knowing the history of Asriel & Chara could factor into Clover’s decision to give up their soul for the sake of monsterkind. Chara, too, sacrificed themselves willingly, after all. 

I don’t have a ‘realistic suggestion’ that could be implemented with a dialogue update because these suggestions are so vast-- and, ultimately, very personal and subjective. I have very strong feelings about Flowey.

Meta Elements of Undertale 

In Undertale, you’re asked when you should or shouldn’t fight. As a pacifist, you can get through the Ruins without killing anyone. Flowey will then ask you what you would do if you met a relentless killer. Would you betray your morals and fight? Or would you give up and let yourself die?

Undertale is the friendly RPG where nobody has to die. While you have to kill Asgore at least once to do the neutral route, and you do have to fight back against Omega/Photoshop Flowey to end his battle, the game ultimately posits that there never is a good time to fight. You don’t beat Omega Flowey by being stronger than him, you do it by appealing to the souls and allowing them to rebel. You don’t beat God of Hyperdeath Asriel Dreemurr by beating him up, you do it by saving your friends- him included. The game, again, is about an inversion of the necessity of violence in video games to me.

I would have been interested in seeing an exploration of when it is necessary to fight, and this could be done through the lens of ‘justice’. Would Clover fight if it brought them closer to justice (on a pacifist route)? Is it morally correct to kill one person if it saves thousands? 

Sparing someone is always the correct option in Undertale. In that way, the true route is quite linear-- there’s one solution that works for everyone. What if there were situations in UTY in which there is no single correct option that works for everyone? What if Clover were placed in situations in which they had to act as arbiter and decide between two outcomes and what is right? It could have been like how they get forced to solve the trolley problem in the Wild East, but with consequences. 

Adding to putting a ‘twist’ on the elements that Undertale introduces with its combat system-- what if sparing someone ultimately enabled them to keep hurting others? What if fighting to weaken someone was the correct solution for once? These inversions could have built on the meta elements of Undertale, and I think that it would make Clover’s decision to sacrifice themselves to bring justice to monsterkind more poignant to me.

Again, I have no ‘realistic’ suggestion for this in the full release of UTY. I think that the plot about justice alone isn’t bad, but I would have been happy to see it tie into the gameplay a little more. 

Conclusion

Ultimately, I think that UTY tries too hard to be Undertale without iterating on the aspects that made Undertale memorable. The characters feel like they fail to pop or relate to the game’s story in meaningful ways, and to me, the main story isn’t executed as well as it could have been (and far darker than the main Undertale in ways that don’t feel as if they’re handled sensitively). 

I will say, again, that this project is very impressive in scope, and I applaud the dev team for finishing it and releasing it. I recognize that a lot of my distaste is subjective, and creating another Undertale is a fool's errand considering the acclaim that Undertale got. I recognize one final time that my suggestions are just daydreaming, and this game has already found a lot of success-- which I think it deserves.

I tend to criticize a lot of media I like, which might sound contradictory to some, but it makes perfect sense to me. If I don’t like something, I won’t engage with it. I think that the original Undertale has its flaws, too. At the end of the day, I like UTY, but no media is perfect. This is how I think it could have been better, and I hope that I think other creatives who want to make Undertale fanworks (or any creative works, for that matter) will take these thoughts into consideration.

Thanks for reading.

[dragongirlsweetie]

my tag directory + explanations :

#cute art (self explanatory)

#dragongirlposting (for all my posting about dragongirls/being a dragongirl)

#slimeposting (for slime posting & such)

#dragonposting (so i can tag other people's dragonposts without them needing to be girl. i generally avoid using dragongirlposting for other people's posts unless they explicitly mention girlness in the post or i know them personally just to avoid any potential social blunders)

#girlposting (girling. also used for girlposts that aren't dragongirls)

#tooie's tf tag (for tf)

#tooie's SCARY tag (new filter tag i just made for scary stuff that's not tf-related because i'm #branching out a little #thebrancher. probably mute this one if you don't like stuff to get dark because it does get very dark, like some kind of indie scifi horror movie)

#tooie's SCARY tf tag (for the scary stuff mostly so people can filter it. usually 100% sexual. if you don't like body horror then mute this because i absolutely do)

#meee :3 (for pictures of me)

i tried to make the ones that i would potentially be adding to my own original posts very specific so they don't show up in search results so if you're wondering why some of them are so verbose that's why

(currently WIP) tf submission guidelines below readmore because well it's nsfw haha:

so basically what you can do is send an ask or submission to tf me and i'm not sure what my response to it would be yet (which is why i haven't answered sny of the asks -w-) but in terms of my preferences for what to submit:

starting with my absolute "no"s: absolutely nothing fully permanent that can't be reversed ("permanent" as in lasts indefinitely but can still be reversed at any point later are fine)

no identity death or anything that would destroy my mind/sense of self. something so stimulating that it's difficult to think is ok (even good) and strong instincts are fine but do not change my name, memories, gender, personality, any of that

anything regarding age is strictly off the table. no age regression of any kind. the reason for this is that i have a certain type of ocd (iykyk) that makes me extremely uncomfortable with this kinda stuff

other misc. kinks/niches to avoid: piss, scat (too gross & not into body waste), incest/fauxcest (not into it in the slightest and it's way too much of a loaded subject for me to want to deal with it), some food (really really hit or miss. generally candy & sweets are alright and cooking me (just by myself with no other ingredients) is great but anything else i'd say try to avoid), might be more if i think of any later

kinks that i am not opposed to but also have absolutely 0 interest in: inflation, musk (not counting pheromones but those are more about the instinctual impact than the bad smell), might add more later

in terms of actual tf subjects:

mammals are an incredibly hit or miss category for me. generally speaking for stuff that i know i like: cats, wolves, bats, foxes, wild dogs (not domesticated), certain rodents like mice and rats and such, deer and other deerlike animals, squirrels, sheep

mammals i'd prefer to avoid: most farm animals (cows, horses, pigs, oxen, etc.), any ungulate that is more horselike than deerlike (zebras, girrafes, etc.), anteaters & tapirs & such, bears, domesticated dogs, etc. just in general mammals are really hit or miss so if you try something not in this list and i don't like it then sorry :/

speaking of farm animals: chickens and ducks are off the table as well. can't explain why. just not my thing

pretty much all other animals (reptiles, other birds, bugs, fish, what have you) are a-ok

ok i'm out of time. more to come later

[neechees]

hello! I’m Deaf and white. I will be going to my first powwow this month. May I ask, is it okay to stay the whole time or do I leave whenever? It is from 10-5pm. Also, are there cues I can look for for knowing when to stand? I will be going alone so I am nervous because of my Deafness, but really excited. Thank you if you see this :)

That's a good question! And that's so exciting for you!!

Yes! Anyone can come and go at any time they please. Some people even just drop in for food and then leave, that's also acceptable :) While generally there's a schedule for when different dances and events are planned throughout, it's not like mandatory that guests stay for the entirety of those planned events. You can stay for the whole thing (or leave whenever)! I can't really think of why you wouldn't be able to. Also, don't be surprised if, despite the schedule, things happen later than expected. Most pow wows aren't very punctual lol

Based on the schedule, it sounds like you're attending a mini pow wow. For pow wows, usually they take place in a circular structure known as an "arbor", and the outskirts of the structure will most times have bleachers, stands, and a walkway/path just in front of it. For cues on when to stand, if you see most people in the bleachers standing, then you can stand too. below is an example of a pow wow arbor where lots of people will be sitting in the stands, so that's where you can look to for the cue.

Most of the time, people will be asked to stand for at least parts of Grand Entry, the victory song, walking the flags out, and/or any prayers or other things (but based on the schedule of the pow wow, it's unlikely they'd have the things I'm thinking of, so I won't tell you about them because you likely won't have to worry about them). Once again, you can find the cue of when these things are happening just by looking at the crowd.

However, pow wows also recognize many people have disabilities, and it's not uncommon for emcees to specifically point out that if you have a disability (Ex: in a wheelchair, have a chronic illness that makes standing for long periods painful, walk with a cane, have an injury, etc), then you are not required to stand. If you're nervous, I'd say this could apply to you as well. Also, even many non-disabled Natives will also sometimes sit through times they are asked to stand, there's no like designated scolder that's going to come and get mad at you for not standing lol.

Also, tip, but I'd say you should try standing next to a/the drumgroup when they sing, you'll be able to feel the vibration and enjoy the music that way :) Lots of people like to go up and watch the singers or record them, so you won't be alone or look strange for doing this!

under the readmore below, I'm just also listing some general pow wow etiquette just in case you've never been taught about it!

Big one, but don't bring any alcohol, recreational drugs, or weapons to the pow wow. Security can and will kick you out if you do

if you see lawn chairs, those are people's personal chairs brought by other attendees, so you can't just sit on them because people brought their own seating.

additionally, if you see a blanket placed upon the bleachers, that is also someone's seating, the blanket means someone has marked their territory and will be back at some point, so don't sit there. feel free to bring you own blanket for this!

do not touch a dancer's regalia without permission

do not take any photos of any dancers without permission. There are also certain times when you are not allowed to record video or photos, but this might not be likely to happen to the pow wow you're going to just because it's so short: if you're nervous though, just don't take any pictures of the dancing or singing just to be safe.

hope this helps!

[toskarin]

A question of curiosity - assuming you play them due to your involvement with a bunch of them, what are your favourite kinds of characters (be it mechanically or narratively) to play in TTRPGS? And do you have any associated anecdotes to go with them?

courtesy readmore

mechanically kinda depends on what's on the menu, but if it's combat-focused, I personally really enjoy characters who "deny" things

not really the kind of character who I'd ever expect a GM to put in their element on purpose (I usually make a conscious effort to remind the GM of things I'm capable of so that I don't trample on any fun setpieces) but definitely the kind of character who modifies objectives just by being in play. I also like magic-users in concept, but that's more of a flavour thing

I think that's reflected a good bit in the kind of narrative play I enjoy, too. when I make a character, I prefer to do it with the rest of the party in mind, less to make the character "compatible" and more to make them sharply contrast in ways that encourage the other characters to have moments where they can reaffirm who they are (both in narrative and out of narrative)

there's a fine balance to strike here. on one end of things, you risk yes-manning so hard that the party quickly becomes a problem solving engine with a single striking surface. on the other end of the things, you risk being The Chaotic Neutral Guy

the space in the middle there represents the characters that people often want to regularly interact with, but rarely want to play. the sort of character who isn't actively disruptive, but raises a lot of red flags when they suddenly show enthusiastic agreement for what you're doing. the kind of character you almost need a diminished sense of discomfort to play without getting in your own feelings about

I adore playing characters who are catered to find plot hooks in other players' characters and tug them just enough to pull them to the surface

most parties have characters who disagree on things that aren't easily resolved. that's always fun, but (because people courteously tend to avoid conflict) it's very rare for those conflicts to come up without GM prompting, and "create productive conflict between two characters without leaving out the rest of the characters or starting a fight between players" is often an equally uncomfortable situation for a GM

lots of fun directions to take it!

have an arc that would benefit from a character taking charge but their player doesn't feel comfortable just Doing That? it helps to have someone else try to take charge who obviously should not be allowed, just to get everyone behind the alternative

have someone with a pure heart who doesn't really get to show that in a party of players who don't want to be mean? maybe someone who's a little more morally-compromised could give them a window for explaining what they actually believe

have a character who's part of some mysterious cult that nobody else is going to find the time to look into? the party could benefit from having a nosy character to justify cracking open that backstory

GM needs to fuck something up to remind the party of how dangerous things are? why not add to the mood by showing what your often-cold character looks like when something manages to actually upset them

[WARNING: DOING ANY OF THIS WALKS THE PRECARIOUSLY THIN LINE BETWEEN BEING COMPELLING AND BEING ANNOYING]

observant readers (well, those who have followed for a while) might have noticed I periodically go on rants about the much-maligned "evil character in a good party" and how both sides of the argument represent a communication and courtesy breakdown. that also very much ties into this sort of thing. I won't go over Tolerable Villainy 101 again, but you get the idea

distilled, I like playing the sort of thoroughly worldly bastards who often end up important in their own right, but mostly on accident, by virtue of being important to what makes other characters compelling

[neon-sunsets]

having watched the lovely response @iamthemaestro has received from his mutuals, I have decided it is time for me to start posting about my half of our mutual OCs. as Maestro says in his post, we started writing this in 2022, made it through a 500 page draft, and then started the whole thing over with a significantly modified plot and far more complicated lore. there are four protagonists and four POVs through which the story is told: Percy, Sydney, Esther, and Atarah. Maestro came up with Percy and Sydney and writes their POVs, and I came up with Esther and Atarah and write their POVs. I'll let her do the talking about Percy and Sydney who have a uh ... toxic yaoi doesn't even begin to cover it really ... sort of thing going on. I love them, they're very dear to me, and I enjoy making them miserable for sport.

I will do a little bit of soliloquizing about the world first, so bear with me. as Maestro says it is "a lot like ours but slightly to the left," essentially meaning that there are different countries and locations (most of which correspond to some sort of real world equivalent -- we have the British navy at home, you get the gist). the other main difference is that there are a lot of Weird Animals.

basically, instead of whales, the oceans in the story are populated by the Giant Eel.

when I say giant, I mean Giant. these bad boys range from fifteen to forty-five feet in length (and sometimes more). they have stinger barbs and impressively large teeth, and they're smart enough that you could train one if you were reckless and determined enough (I promise this is relevant to the plot). the Giant Eel has significantly shaped the culture of this world. the various parts of the eel's body are used for medicines and food, the fat is used for fuel, and the teeth and bones are used in a similar way to ivory. killing one is really hard to do, and sailors often brag of having killed one when that's not actually the case. I've always been a big eel fan so I'm quite pleased to be writing a story where they're an important motif.

putting Esther and Atarah's bios under a readmore so those of you who hate when lesbians get divorced without ever having been romantically involved can skip reading about them.

many know the Eel Queen, the navy's second most wanted pirate captain and the Guinness World Record holder for Most Giant Eels Killed By A Single Person (or she would be, if that existed in her world). few people - Sydney, her mother, a few members of her crew, Esther, and eventually Percy - know that her real name is Atarah, and fewer people actually call her by it.

(art by @iamthemaestro )

the important thing to know about Atarah is that she fundamentally believes herself to be evil. this means she has an unfortunate penchant for running away, leaving things behind, faking her death, and otherwise trying to remove herself from the lives of those around her. other notable traits: she's gay, gender non-conforming, a rapier purist (she will NOT use a cutlass, she knows it's less practical, don't even ask), and in another life she would have been a doctor. she's even Jewish (or the in-universe equivalent). for close to fifteen years she's loved Esther, and for close to fifteen years she's believed that Esther could never love her back. contributing to this perception is an event that occurred ten years prior to the events of the story, an incident that Atarah refuses to discuss.

Atarah captains the Steel Ace (a ship she cobbled together by cashing in a number of very high-value favors after she wrecked her previous one) and is well-liked and respected by her crew. any pirate who could have reasonably posed a threat to her has either died, retired out of shame after she beat them repeatedly at cards, or gone to work for the navy's most wanted pirate captain. she's been quite successful in pushing people away, actually. yay! except that means she's incredibly, indescribably lonely.

Atarah and Sydney are, for all intents and purposes, siblings - she took him in when he was fourteen and taught him everything she knew about piracy and the world. she's saved him from a number of incredibly foolish and ill-advised plots, near-death situations, and silly shenanigans. she'd go to the ends of the earth for him.

but their relationship is rocky, in large part due to Atarah's mother who, for plot reasons, I cannot tell you anything about beyond the fact that she was a truly awful parent. (and Sydney, as you can see in Maestro's post, isn't exactly well-adjusted.) as a result of her mother's parenting Atarah believes that everyone in her life is better off without her, including the brother who loves her more than anything and the woman she left behind.

Esther Cardozo is many things: armorer, trade guild representative, sometimes revolutionary; former captain of the Wayfarer, a civilian merchant vessel; Jewish; professional hater, particularly of the navy; unbeatable at the weird not-poker card game we came up with; autistic; butch. ten years ago, she lost the part of her leg below her right knee in an incident that she barely remembers (due to the fact that she passed out from blood loss partway through), so she uses a prosthetic leg and cane. though she won't talk about what happened next, whatever it was ruined her and Atarah's relationship, and they haven't seen each other since.

(art by @/satturn, commissioned as a lovely gift for me by Maestro)

when she was eight or so, Esther's parents were murdered. she was adopted by a very prominent naval officer named Admiral John Barnett, who taught her armory and the rules of the nobility, forced her to leave her culture behind, and gave her a new name and a new identity as his daughter. when Essie Barnett was eighteen, both she and her doting father were killed in a senseless act of violence by a passing drunkard.

at least, that's what the navy told the world. Essie Barnett died, but Esther survived, joining up with the crew of a merchant ship and being mentored by the ship's cook. that, combined with the skills John Barnett taught her, meant that eventually she sort of just ... inherited the Wayfarer from its previous captain.

it was during her tenure as captain that she met Atarah. a chance encounter between them ended with a curious bargain, wherein Atarah promised not to target Esther's ship or crew in exchange for some goods (a fine dagger, several bolts of silk, and approximately three crates of oranges). this professional alliance evolved into a close friendship, and despite everyone in their lives assuming they'd end up together, neither Esther nor Atarah ever took that leap. in the ten years since the incident that drove them apart, Esther has managed to convince herself that she hates Atarah. whether or not this is true is another question entirely, but Esther is nothing if not good at denial.

when we meet Esther she's a full-time armorer, part-time revolutionary pretending she doesn't miss the ocean or any pirates who might be sailing it. unfortunately for her, things are about to boil over in the navy's largest and most rebellious colony, and her involvement with the revolutionaries has put a very precise target on her back. the navy wants Essie Barnett back, and they don't care what they have to do to get their hands on her.

(and, more than that - it would seem that no matter how much Esther and Atarah try to move on from each other, something keeps pulling them back into orbit.)

of course, that's only half the story. Percy and Sydney have their own insane gay journey happening; their POVs, as well as the friendships and dynamics between all four characters, are incredibly important and a lot of fun to write.

this story is so important to me; it's been a lifeline through some very difficult health problems, an experience that has sort of found its way into Esther's character. go check out Maestro's post if you haven't already - he has a lot of art of Percy and Sydney on her blog!

thanks for reading! stay tuned for more about these tortured weirdos ...

[helloarchivist]

Hello!! So, for the lovely @quinloki 's birthday request event, I have written a thing!! It's a day later than I intended, but we made it!!

This thing is a monster and it got away from me lmfao, but I genuinely hope you enjoy it. :)))) Even in the short time I've known you, I've found you to be a lovely person and a wonderful friend, and you deserve all the fun and joy in the world. If this manages to be even a little part of that, I will be honored and thrilled.

So, without further ado, please allow me to introduce:

Cabin in the Woods

summary: A break-in, a road-trip, and a mysterious cabin all coalesce on what should have been a quiet Tuesday night in August. The world is changing, and our reader must adapt to a mystery they could not have imagined, and circumstances they could not have foreseen.

cw: op x reader with Sabo, dark content, yandere stuff. (nothing graphic or even violent really happens, but the circumstances are still there). there is a gun, but no gun violence is involved. no pronouns are used, but the reader is mentioned as having breasts and a vagina. there's smut, both explicit and implied. petnames used: darling, love, sweetheart, baby.

I don't think i'm forgetting anything but as always if this kinda stuff isn't your cup of tea, don't read it.

14k word count so it's going under a readmore, but yeah!! Here we go!

**

A bump in the road jolted you awake, head snapping up from where it had slumped against the passenger side window.

“Sorry love,” a soft, familiar voice whispered from beside you, accompanied by the soothing warmth of a palm smoothed over your thigh and you sighed, relieved, allowing your eyes to slip closed for a moment again before you straightened up in your seat.

It was hard to tell how long the two of you had been on the road. Sabo had insisted on driving so that you could rest, but that had been in the wee hours of the morning. It was still dark now, the sky a sickly, bruised grey that could have been dawn or dusk, and you scrubbed a hand over your face, trying to get your bearings. With a heavy sigh, you dropped your hand into your lap again, eyes roaming aimlessly around the car before settling on the dash radio. 5:15 AM.

You frowned, muted worry etching itself across your brow as you shifted your hand to rest atop the back of your fiance’s. He must have read the look in his periphery, or felt your concern seeping into his skin at your touch because he chuckled warmly, turning his hand palm-up to lace his fingers with yours.

“Don’t you worry, okay? I’m a veteran roadtrip driver, and besides...you needed the rest. Last night was…” your lover trailed off for a moment, something vague and inscrutable flittering across his features for a moment.

“...a little hectic,” you supplied, finishing his thought, and that gentle smile returned to his features once more as he regarded you with a wink.

“Hectic. Yeah. S’as good a word for it as any,” He squeezed your hand a little more tightly, rubbing his thumb along the back of it in tender, absentminded circles.

Silence settled back over your little car for a while then, and you turned your attention out the windows again, trying not to let the memory of the previous night, or the reason for your impromptu flight from civilization, enter your mind. When you’d drifted off, it had been on an empty, nondescript stretch of freeway, fallow farmland on either side, no other cars in sight beyond one lonely set of taillights which had bobbed along ahead of you for perhaps ten miles before drifting off down an exit of its own, leaving the two of you to the liminal solitude of late night travel.

If Sabo had pulled off at any stops along the way, he hadn’t woken you for them, but given that the scenery had changed from open farmland to winding, forested foothills, it couldn’t have been more than once. Under normal circumstances you might have chided him for it ‘Breaks are normal, it’s not worth the hour saved to give yourself a UTI trying to do the whole trip in one go,’ but given the circumstances…

You blinked your eyes shut hard, shaking the thoughts away before stretching to the side a little to rest your head on Sabo’s shoulder.

“Want me to take over for a bit, ‘Bo?” You asked softly, running your free hand up his forearm a little.

Sabo leaned over slightly, slumping his cheek against the top of your head for a moment before pressing a soft kiss there, lingering just long enough to breathe the scent of you in before straightening back up.

Nah, s’okay. We’re only a couple hours out from it now, and the side road is really hard to catch. Hell, I used to come out here every summer with my brothers, and I still drive right past it sometimes.” He said, the corners of his lips turning slightly upwards at the memory.

You adored his brothers, boisterous and warm in their own ways. They were the only people on earth that Sabo loved as much as you, and for a moment your heart clenched at the thought. Between the bars of your mental blockade, you hoped faintly that they were holed up somewhere safe, too. That they’d found their way out of the city before--

“Do you think we should try the radio again? See if there’s any news...any updates?” Your voice sounded grave, frightened and thin in your own ears, and you winced.

Sabo squeezed your hand a little more tightly. “...Let’s wait til we’re up at the cabin. If the car radio runs out of signal we’ve got the ham radio, and that old long-range one Luffy’s grandfather left up there.” He lapsed into silence for a moment, and when he spoke again, his voice was lower, betraying the first hint of worry he’d let slip since your departure. “We beat the first wave out, and there’s nothing we can do ‘til we’re safe up there. Won’t help anything to get ourselves all wound up before then, right love?” his voice was low, reassuring, reasonable. He didn’t want you to be scared. You didn’t want you to be scared.

He offered you the out, and you took it. “Yeah. May as well get everything set up before we start taking stock of how bad it is.”

“Brilliant as always,” he crooned, lilting his voice with that cartoonishly syrupy sweetness that never failed to make you laugh. He grinned at the sound, heart fluttering in his chest, and exhaled a long, slow breath. He wasn’t worried about what might be on the radio. All that mattered was that he had you here, had you safe. Whatever else happened, you could weather it together.

**

True to his word, the little road that led back to the cabin was barely visible until the car was almost on top of it; even with the help of the morning light, filtering grey through the thickening cloud cover, the path Sabo slowed and pulled off onto could barely be called a road. You’d already pulled off the freeway maybe 30 minutes before, onto a two lane little back road that veered off and up into the hills and valleys beyond. This was an unpaved, overgrown footpath with delusions of grandeur, that seemed to meander almost aimlessly through the trees. Slowly but surely, the road behind you slid into the foliage and out of view, and though you knew he must be exhausted, you found yourself deeply grateful that Sabo had opted to finish the drive himself.

You could barely imagine picking your way through this on foot without prior knowledge, let alone in a car. At regular intervals Sabo’s side of the road would simply open up into nothing, offering a stunning view of the valley, of the forested mountain on the other side, and what you were sure was likely a precipitous drop off into the river below. The thought of it made you a bit queasy, despite the beauty of the scenery, and you leaned back into your seat, opting instead to watch the high wall of fallen leaves and hillside passing by on the passenger side.

“Just a little bit longer, I promise. The cabin’s just on the other side of the hilltop. You’re going to love the view. Plus it’s got good access to a little lake. The water is always unreasonably cold, but it’s gorgeous,” He said, turning his head only slightly towards you to keep his focus on the road. “Tell ya what, if the old rowboat is still functional, I’ll take you out on it. Tomorrow, after we’ve had some rest.”

You smiled at that, humming acquiescently. The thought of spending time out on the lake with him—spending time out anywhere with him—was wonderful, perfect, of course, though at the moment the only thing you could muster any true enthusiasm for was a long bath and the promise of a comfortable bed. The whole place was probably going to need aired out and dusted off, and while there was a generator Sabo had made it clear that it might need a little TLC before there would be any power. That was fine. If you two needed to spend the first night cooking hotdogs and smores in the fireplace, it wouldn’t be the end of the world.

That phrase rattled around in your mind a little, and you shuddered. Sabo glanced at you, before reaching out and flicking the AC down a couple of notches.

“Don’t worry,” he whispered. You squeezed his hand tightly, before drawing it up to your lips.

“With you? ‘Course not.” you whispered back.

He smiled, perhaps a little smugly, though that simply made you kiss the back of his hand once again.

**

When the road had finally meandered off the slope of the mountain you were on, following a little rise into a nestled clearing between peaks, you’d sighed in relief and slumped back in your seat, making Sabo laugh good-naturedly.

“The ride in is a little harrowing the first time, but I promise it’s gonna be worth it,” He’d said, letting go of your hand so he could ruffle it through your hair, and down to rest at the back of your neck, soothing the tense muscles with warm, precise little movements.

You weren’t honestly sure what you’d been expecting the cabin to look like. Vague images of a hunting lodge, of a summer camp bunk house, of a better homes and gardens style airbnb, and Rapunzel’s tower had all made their aimless way across your mind on the way in.

What you found was nothing short of magical. Even in the grey, dreary light of what had turned out to be a drizzly, windy sort of day, the little valley nestled between the peaks still seemed to glimmer with the echos of sun-warmed adventures and youthful secrets. The road you were on petered out into the soft green grass of a charmingly overgrown clearing. The hilltop seemed to cup the clearing like a giant hand, curving trees and bushes and delicate little wildflowers inward towards the cabin, more like the framing of a painting than the work of nature.

The cabin itself was larger than you’d anticipated, but not nearly as campish or dilapidated as Sabo had suggested. Dark old wood comprised both stories of the house, with a wraparound porch and swing visible as you approached, and a balcony on the one upstairs room you could see from this side.

The windows were boarded up, sure, but Sabo had assured you that was standard practice every time he and his brothers left the place for the season. Safer that way in case of storms, and it kept most of the animals from scratching around too much.

“We’ll pull the boards off the windows of the upstairs rooms so we can get a cross-breeze up where we’re gonna sleep. Rest of em we can work through tomorrow. No rush. We’ve got time to settle in.” he said, cheerful despite the situation, as he finally pulled the car to a stop, and killed the engine.

You leaned forward for a moment, taking in the place through the tinted blue of the top of the windshield, before unclipping your seat belt and climbing out of the car at long last. Without the rumble of the engine and the whirring of the AC, the place was even more beautiful. Wind swept through the valley, rustling in the trees, stray leaves twirling and trailing in the wind as they fell.

Sabo climbed out of the car too, leaning against the open driver’s side door to watch you, a gentle smile on his lips.

‘It’ll all be worth it. Even if all that ever came of it was this, it’d be worth it,’ the thought settled across his mind like gossamer silk, his eyes growing dreamy and unfocused, as he drank in the sight of your excitement. You seemed to glow in the gentle light that filtered down through the trees, and he knew in that moment that there was no one in the world more perfect than you. His love, his darling.

He could make you happy here. He would make you happy here. Happy, and safe, and loved. As you deserved.

You almost yelped in startled delight when you lowered your head from observing the trees around you to find Sabo directly by your side, lips quirked up into a grin. It was one of the things you loved about him, one of his many fascinating little quirks, he could be so quiet when he wanted to be. Your high little peal of laughter only widened his grin, and in one swift motion he had you lifted up into his arms, cradled against his chest, nestled into a grip that spoke of unfathomable reverence, and a heat that seemed always to be boiling just inches beneath his skin, a hunger that only ever found satiation in your love, your touch, your pleasure.

You looked up into the face of the man you loved breathlessly, the hint of color and responding heat beginning to touch your cheeks, and he sighed, letting those beautiful cornflower blue eyes of his slip closed, poorly feigning a chiding expression as he leaned forward to press his lips to your forehead.

“I see how it is,” he sighed airily, turning towards the cabin with you as though you weighed nothing at all. “What am I, compared to pretty leaves and a mysterious old cabin~” he intoned, hyperbolically mournful, and you rolled your eyes playfully before turning your head to kiss his chin.

“My guide through the darkness, as always,” you returned, mimicking his feigned mournfulness, though just as the words left your lips, Sabo carried you up onto the creaking old wood of the porch, and into the semi-darkness that came with it. The cloud cover was too heavy to throw off the pal of disuse, and you couldn’t quite manage to suppress the shiver that ran through you. Up close, with its boarded windows and unfamiliar shadows, there was something...ominous, about the place. Sabo stilled for a moment, glancing down at you, his playful expression giving way to concern, and something like remorse, as he set you gently onto your feet again.

“Nobody’s been out here in a couple years,” He squeezed your shoulders softly, rhythmically, before pulling you forward into a hug. “That’s all it is. There’s no way that anythi—that anyone would even know to come out this way beyond Ace and Luffy, and they’re out of state. You know that,” his voice was so even, so reasonable, and when he pulled back just far enough to rest his forehead against yours you sighed, and nodded.

“Whatever’s happening out there, it can’t get to us here. I’ll keep you safe.”

You sighed, leaning in to kiss him, and as he stroked your cheek and let you sink into his warmth, you willed the worry to subside, at least a little.

“Yeah,” you whispered, and he nodded with a soft sigh before turning his attention back towards the task at hand.

He seemed to ponder the boarded up door for a moment, brows furrowing thoughtfully. If you hadn’t known him so well, you might have wondered whether you were locked out...but after a moment of “contemplation,” Sabo tilted his head down towards you, and winked.

“We always board everything up when we leave...except the front door. Watch,” Sabo leaned forward, running his fingertips along the outside of the door frame until something gave way with a small click. Without bothering with the visible lock and seemingly independently of the doorknob, the entire boarded up apparatus swung open a couple of inches, and Sabo pulled it open the rest of the way with a flourish.

“Is it...fake?” you asked, reaching out to touch the camouflaged button he had pressed, watching the simple release mechanism punch outwards curiously.

“False front door,” Sabo replied proudly, almost excitedly, as he ran his palm down the old wood. “One of the few good ideas Luffy’s grandfather ever had. The actual front door is on the lakeside of the house. This way, even if someone did somehow manage to approach from the road, all they’d see is what looked like a boarded up old house.”

Something about that felt a little odd. Why would such a decoy be necessary in general, let alone for a place as secluded as this? But beyond what sounded like an old man’s paranoia, you couldn’t quite place why it struck you so strangely, nor did you have time to properly contemplate it, as Sabo was moving ahead of you into the house, striding confidently into the gloom.

You hesitated in the doorway, still gripped by that odd sense of foreboding; distantly, the sound of thunder began to roll through the hills, and it might as well have been night for all the grey light did to illuminate the interior of the cabin. Little slits of feeble light peeped out from impossibly far back in the space, and you noticed, once the rumbling of thunder died down, that the cabin had fallen quite silent. You couldn’t hear the sound of Sabo’s boots on the wooden floor, nor any of his usual stream of cheerful commentary.

It was as though the house had simply swallowed him whole.

Behind you, the wind seemed to be slowly picking up in intensity again, carrying the distant rolling thunder closer. Fat droplets of rain began to plop down through the trees, into the grass, hitting the windshield with intermittent but purposeful force.

The anxiety of the previous night began to creep up the back of your neck again, adrenaline pooling in your lungs as cool as rainwater.

Pat. Pat. Splat.

You’d been dead asleep when it started. The crash of glass had jarred you awake, the sound of screaming shortly after like nothing you’d ever heard. High and ragged and inhuman, like someone burning, like agony and rage and consumption tearing insufficient human vocal cords raw in punishment for attempting to express a pain and hatred so vast.

The sound had frozen you to your core, welding your joints in place, leaving you trapped and horrified in what had only moments before been one of the safest places in your world. There was a moment of quiet, punctuated by gasping, sickened breathing, by the steady pattering of something thick and wet falling to the floor of your bedroom. Shambling steps cracked the glass that littered the floor, erratic, listless...and this time, when that primal shriek ripped through the nauseating silence, you jolted beneath your sheets. Just barely. Just enough.

Something heavy had pressed down on the end of the bed, so close to your frozen legs that any further movement would have brought you into contact instantly. The thick, wet liquid dripped against the blankets as the unseen thing made its unsteady way up towards the headboard where you lay and it stank, rot and decay flooding your nostrils, turning your stomach almost enough to make you retch--

If it hadn’t been for Sabo, if he’d taken even a second longer, if he hadn’t dropped his water glass to shatter in the sink and flown down the hallway like a man possessed, it might have touched you. It might have dribbled that foul bile onto your face, into your mouth, and you would have screamed...you were sure you would have died. But as it was, you never saw it. Mercifully, you never saw it.

The weight had lifted from the bed the second your bedroom door had crashed open, and though you still hadn’t quite been able to make yourself move you heard it, Sabo’s fury and something that sounded suspiciously like metal as it sang through the air, only to crash into the thing with a sickening crack.

When he’d pulled you out of bed, he’d faced you away from the thing. From the mess you were sure must lay just beside where you’d been sleeping. The second he had you standing, the same spell that had frozen you sent you spinning into action, and he followed your lead. The two of you had grabbed what was easiest, throwing food and ice into a cooler, grabbing the first aid kit you usually kept for camping excursions, and you’d been in the car and out onto the road without evening looking back.

If it hadn’t been for several overturned cars, for several houses that stood like guttered ghosts with gaping eyes of broken glass, for the smoke that rose and billowed in the direction of town, it might have seemed like a normal night.

Sabo had turned on the radio only long enough to confirm that they were in range of nothing but the emergency broadcast system. Other than that one set of lonely taillights, you might have been the only two people left on--

All at once, the cabin lighting sprang to life, startling you from your reverie in a moment of mingled relief and panic. The warm orange glow of welcoming old lights filled the previously menacing space, and faintly over the sound of the rising storm, the labored rumbling of the generator could be heard.

“Looks like Ace actually left the thing topped off last time he was here, but we can still cook out in the fireplace if you w—” Sabo jogged back into view from where he’d disappeared—either to the basement or the back of the house—but his triumphant tone sagged into worried silence when he found you, ashen, still standing in the open doorway where he’d left you.

“I’m okay,” you said, though your voice wavered unconvincingly. A gust of wind splattered the steady drizzling rain against the back of your neck and this time you did jump, before stepping over the threshold and closing the door a bit harder than you’d intended.

“I’m okay.” You said again, more an order for your own frightened heart than a reassurance for your fiance, but he stepped forward anyway and pulled you into his arms again.

“We’re okay,” Sabo replied.

You breathed deeply into the warmth of his chest, and believed him.

**

That first day passed in a near constant stream of activity that kept your mind thankfully occupied, either by the seemingly endless stream of maintenance tasks the cabin seemed to need, or the loving, doting, and supportive attentions of your lover.

The storm that had blown in had made getting the windows unboarded and opened untenable, but the downstairs bathroom hadn’t required much to get to a usable state, and with the boiler kindly willing to acquiesce to your request to light, you’d been able to share a hot bath before changing into your set of spare clothes.

By the time you were nestled down in the sea of blankets Sabo had pulled out of their vacuum-sealed prisons and roasting hot dogs in the fireplace, the memory of the night before had slunk back into the recesses of your mind again, like the dregs of a bad dream. Sabo had said something about the storm likely interfering with the radio, and that he’d try to get it working once it had blown over.

You hadn’t argued. Eventually, you knew, you would have to open those floodgates, to see how bad things were...but if you had to wait another night to make it real, that was okay.

When your lover had rolled you gently onto your back in that sea of blankets, in the warmth of the dying fire and the storm raging outside, you had opened beneath him like a flower. He’d made short work of the boxers you’d borrowed, of the t-shirt which had been your only quick option during your flight.

The warmth of his hands as they cradled you to him, as they lifted your hips onto the improvised cushions and angled your body into a comfortable position, burned away, at least for the moment, any worries for the world outside.

Instead you sank into the sight of him, into the way the firelight seemed to dance across every inch of soft skin, every furrow of relaxed muscle, entranced by the way his belly contracted as he shimmied out of his pajama pants.

“Beautiful,” You’d whispered, as you opened your arms to him, following the familiar lines of muscle up over his shoulders to clasp around him, to close the gap between you that kept his warmth so cruelly from you.

“Not like you, love,” Sabo sighed softly, reverently, stifling any possible retort as he licked into your mouth at last, lapping over your tongue, tasting you as much as kissing you until any breath, any thought but desire for him, had been consumed.

Sabo had always been ravenous, had always run you up against the limits of what you thought you could take with, and though he was as gentle and supportive of your pleasure as he was of all aspects of your life, there was always that glimmer. That glint in his eye that suggested he would always need one more, one more from you, to ever properly be sated.

That night, with the outside world denied entry and the distractions of your previous life distant and moot, he was like a man possessed.

Even as the kiss left you gasping, wanting, he’d trailed lower, suckling marks into your throat that would take days to fade, lapping and soothing over each one as though determined to taste every inch of you.

“You know I’d give you all of me...everything I am,” his voice, usually so smooth and even and honey-sweet, came out raw and low, more a sensation against the peak of your nipple than voice before he closed his mouth around the bud, swirling it with his tongue as a promise of pleasure to come. Warmth blossomed through your body and when you whined softly in response, body flexing as you arched your back to press more of yourself into his mouth, he obliged in earnest, his palm sliding between your shoulderblades and lifting you like you weighed nothing at all.

Under any other circumstance he might have teased you. Might have made you ask, might have made you use your words, but the patience required had fled him. He kissed across your chest, watching the way your eyes fluttered, the way you flushed and writhed at his touch, and simply could not imagine a world where making you wait could be worth it. At least, not today.

This time, when he closed his mouth over the sensitive peak of your nipple, the fingers of his free hand trailed lower, soothing over your belly, calming your writhing body down even as he worked his teeth into the tender flesh there. This time when you cried out, he moaned sympathetically in return, as though the sudden surge of pleasure had rushed straight from your nerves into his, though he did nothing to lessen the intensity, the sympathetic noise turning into a low groan of need as his fingers dipped lower still, stroking the slick building between your thighs gently.

“Sabo, please,” your voice, thick and heavy with need, with a desperation much bigger than the moment, snapped his gaze towards yours for a moment.

“I know, I know,” he’d whispered, burying the quirk of his lips between your breasts, down your belly, nestling momentarily in the tuft of hair just above where you needed him most. “Gotta get you ready, darling, I—”

Rather than finishing the thought, rather than giving you the opportunity to thrash or beg him further, Sabo had dipped his tongue between your lips, watching you with hazy eyes as the taste of you flooded his senses. He teased the hood of your clit with the tip of his tongue, barely swiping over it in little circles before dipping lower, kissing between your legs, licking and suckling you open.

By the time he’d lifted his head again, chin slick with the evidence of your need, you almost felt hysterical. He watched in mesmerized pride as your clit twitched like a second heartbeat, swollen almost entirely out from under its hood, though only for a moment before finally giving you what you needed. The sound you made when he’d closed his lips around your desperate nub had almost sounded wounded, and Sabo had smoothed his palms up the backs of your thighs, tapping them wordlessly to get you to hold them while he drove you towards your peak.

It took almost nothing for the first orgasm to take you, racing up and crashing against your clit with every swirled beat of his tongue, though he’d given you only a moment to revel in it before slicking two fingers into your spasming cunt. He knew your body better than his own, knew where the little spot inside you was that made you growl and thrash in his arms like a thing wild, and he grinned against your core as your breathlessness gave way to a wail of pleasure that might almost have contained his name.

He didn’t let you rest. The pleasure of the first orgasm never quite ebbed enough to end as he dragged you through the pleasure up, up towards another peak. You were burning in his arms, beneath his mouth, molten desire stripped of more complex concerns, and he hadn’t even filled you yet.

“M’ready, I’m ready, S—aaa, Sabo please, plee-eeeaaa,” your pleas dissolved into another wordless groan as the pleasure began to crest again; this time when you came, your back arched so sharply that it practically lifted off the floor, your legs falling open at your sides as sense momentarily left you, displaced by the sensitive ecstasy he had driven into you.

You’d looked down then, vision hazy and eyes half-lidded through a cloud of bliss, and the small part of your mind still capable of thought expected to see him pulling away, getting to his knees, surely, surely you were wet enough now, pliant enough now...but the gaze that met yours from where your lover still lay between your legs seemed almost maddened with lust. At some point in the fog of your pleasure he had moved, knees spread out in a low crouch, and despite your previous two orgasms arousal twisted low in your guts as you realized he was rutting himself against the blankets beneath him, mindlessly soothing his own need while he drank from yours.

“Awww, I felt that, baby,” he whispered against you, grinning positively lethally in the firelight as you clenched and dribbled around his fingers. “Do you like that? Do you like knowing what you do to me, my love? How desperate you make me?” his voice was low, almost teasing despite all, as he rutted his hips against the blankets in quiet demonstration.

“Yes...fuck, yes,” you hadn’t bothered to hide it, he knew, and even if he didn’t, it wasn’t like your body was capable of covering for your lie. Sabo kissed the inside of your thigh in appreciation, though that hunger seemed to rise in him again when he slicked his fingers out of you only to watch your hole flutter around nothing.

Part of him wanted to simply dive back down into you, to slick his tongue in as deeply as he could and drink until he was full...but that would have been selfish. And besides...he had all the time in the world now worship at the altar of your thighs.

Gently, carefully, Sabo shifted his weight, sitting up on his knees properly again. He rested his cock, swollen and red and leaking, along the entire length of your slit as he leaned over your, taking his weight on one splayed palm so that he could lean down over you, nuzzling his forehead against yours. Beneath all that ferocious hunger, he loved you so, and the warmth that spread through his chest at the way you lifted your watery eyes to meet his almost quelled the need scrabbling between his ribs.

Almost.

He allowed you one last moment to breathe, enjoying the way you rolled your hips against his as he rutted the head of his cock against your clit once, twice, and then he was guiding himself lower, slick with your own pleasure and his slick as he rocked himself forward, fucking himself just barely through the spasming ring of your opening. The heat of you nearly knocked him senseless, and the mingled cry of desperate pleasure and relief was so mutual that there was no way to tell where your voice stopped and his started. His hips stuttered, pleasure surging through him at even this shallow connection, and he only managed to pull himself partially out of you before plunging back down, this time to the hilt.

Whether it was the terror that had driven you here, or the desperation for the normalcy of this intimacy, you might never know, but you would have sworn in that moment that you’d never felt so full in your entire life. Sabo gasped again, the sound sending rippling shocks of pleasure out from where you were connected, grinding himself in deeper still, fucking little spurts of precum against your cervix. When he kissed you it was so soft as to be jarring; a tender lament for what was to come.

Carefully, purposefully, Sabo moved you, unhooking the leg you had wrapped around his waist on instinct so that he could drape your knees over his elbows. Palms splayed against the makeshift bed as he held you open, letting you feel the way he pulsed and twitched inside you as he pulled halfway out, and fucked down in again, angling his hips to rut over the spot he’d been worrying with his fingertips before.

“Breathe for me, love,” he whispered, tone almost cloyingly sympathetic as he drove his hips downwards, patience finally slipping away as he took you in deep, rough strokes.

The instruction did nothing to stop the way the pleasure rushed into you again, leaving no room for air, for thoughts, for intention. Your eyes rolled back, and Sabo suckled your tongue into his mouth, toying with it the way he had your clit even as he ground his hips down to scrub against the little nub in turn.

You were going to cum again, he was going to make you cum again, and you babbled incoherencies against his tongue as that familiar feeling began to twist and tighten inside you again.

“That’s it darling, that’s it. Perfect love, gorgeous, do it for me, I know you can,” he panted against your lips, and you could feel it too, the way he was swelling inside you, the way his hips were starting to stutter and twitch.

You wanted him to feel good, needed him to follow you over the edge this time, and you knew he knew, somehow, knew he could tell what you wanted like he was living inside your head with you. Some distant part of you wondered if he was. If that would really be so bad.

With a last push of coordination Sabo wedged his hand between your bodies, fingers finding your clit and pressing down against it, rubbing neat, almost vicious circles, and you were gone, that final orgasm chasing away any sense that wasn’t the pleasure he fucked down into you. The all-consuming heat of it stole his breath too, and it was all he could do to rut you through it before he had to bury himself in you, teeth clenched and cock twitching as he filled you with hot, thick spasms of his pleasure.

Time seemed to trickle by, thick and slow as the heat between you as you both tried to settle back into reality. Love seemed to cradle you in all directions as Sabo murmured to you, gentle praise and careful check-ins melding together in your mind into a comforting static of safety.

You weren’t sure when sleep took you, only that when it did it was to the feeling of your lover’s lips against yours, and the soft slickness of his cock softening out of you. Bliss.

**

It almost felt like a honeymoon, despite the circumstances. That first week had been a whirlwind of activities, interspersed with spontaneous, increasingly intense lovemaking that left you dizzied, but satisfied and contented.

Sabo had always been an early riser, and you often found that by the time you joined him—at the oh-so-late hour of 9ish every morning—he had completed some new battery of tasks that left the day open for less strenuous maintenance, or walks down by the lake, or a bonfire in what turned out to be a very lovely firepit in the back yard.

If it hadn’t been for what had driven you from your home to begin with, you might have been content to simply let yourself fall into the routine he had set up for the two of you. Sabo certainly seemed devoted to keeping your mind off things—he hated to see you worry, hated the idea of you ever having to feel frightened—and had it not been for the issue of the radio, you might have settled into this new life without terribly much regard.

Sabo had always been, as far as you knew, an open book with you. Even when you’d just started dating, even when your relationship was fresh and tentative and new, he had always answered your questions honestly, had prioritized open communication and honesty as a core tenet of your life together.

So it concerned you when, after a week of trying to get signal, Sabo had outright refused to let you into the radio room to give it a try.

You’d thought he was joking at first, had laughed and tried to brush past him, but he’d taken your hand and spun you into a little dip, dancing you away towards the stairs that led down to the loft room you’d taken up residence in.

“It’s kinda...unsafe in there, to be honest,” he’d said, when it was clear that simply kissing you wasn’t going to put the conversation to bed.

“What do you mean ‘unsafe,’” you’d asked skeptically, the corners of your lips still upturned in a grin despite all, half-convinced this was all one of his jokes, though the good humor had started to melt back towards confusion and concern when his expression didn’t give.

For a long moment, Sabo didn’t answer. Instead he chewed on the inside of his cheek, eyes unfocused, and something in your stomach started to churn.

“Did you hear something?” you asked quietly. Sabo shook his head firmly.

“No no, nothing like that, it’s just. The only room in the cabin that’s not really finished.” He paused again, like he was trying to choose his words carefully, and when he met your gaze again there was something mournful, a little, in the blues of his eyes.

“Luffy’s grandfather set that room up in case of...emergencies. We weren’t even allowed to go into it while he was still alive, none of us had seen it until the deed to the place passed to us with his will. It’s just…” another short pause, and then. “It’s...boobytrapped. Kind of.”

There was a slight pause. Part of you had been tempted to laugh at the suggestion, vague images of Roadrunner and Wil E. Coyote running through your mind, but something in his expression stopped you from doing so.

“What kind of boobytraps…” you asked carefully, rubbing his arms with your palms. Sabo just shook his head.

“Luffy’s grandfather...Garp...got a little paranoid towards the end. He was sure Ace’s biological father was going to show up, that he needed to be ready for some kind of an attack…”

“Was he not on good terms with Ace’s father?” You asked quietly.

“No idea, we never knew him. By the time Garp started talking about this, Ace’s dad had been dead for nearly 20 years.”

Whatever concern or confusion had settled into your heart began to give way to sadness. Sabo’s eyes slid away from yours for a moment before he leaned forward to kiss your forehead.

“I wasn’t trying to hide anything from you, but the guy’s ex-military, special forces, we only figured out there was anything wrong with the room because Luffy stepped on a loose board and almost lost his foot to some kind of wire trap set into the space beneath it.”

You sighed heavily, glancing warily over his shoulder to where the door to the radio room stood partially ajar.

“Sorry baby, I shouldn’t have pressed,” you started, but Sabo shushed you, pulling you into his arms and rocking you gently.

“Nothing to be sorry for, I’d have been curious too! It’s just...tough to talk about. I’ve got it mostly mapped out in there, but I’d die if you got hurt, and it seems safe to assume there probably aren’t...hospitals. To take you to, in any event.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, and nodded, and for a time you let the radio room and its mysteries slip out of your mind. If he caught a signal, you knew he would tell you, and until then...it seemed reasonable to give the room a wide berth.

**

The real trouble started when your hastily gathered supplies began to ran low. Clothes weren’t really an issue, the cabin had a washer and a line to dry things on, and enough dry detergent to last the next 20 years, but the food had began to dwindle after the third day, and while the lake seemed to be well stocked with fish, running it dry didn’t make a lot of sense.

Hunting wasn’t an option, neither of you were particularly proficient with firearms, and the idea of killing and gutting anything bigger than a fish turned you both off immensely...which left only one real option.

“I’m going to make a run into town—”

“We’re going to make a run into town—”

“There’s one just about a half hour away back up the main road, and I’ll be back before you can even miss me,” Sabo said, kissing your forehead and then your nose despite the fact that you had crossed your arms rather tightly against your chest and were refusing to budge.

He sighed. You arched your eyebrows and stared at him, waiting.

“Do you think I’m not capable of putting canned food in a shopping cart?” you asked dryly.

Sabo scrubbed a hand over his face, looking helpless. “Of course not, this has nothing to do with competency or ability,” he said evenly, though that mournful look at begun to creep its way into his eyes again.

“Okay. Then help me understand. This is basic horror movie rules, Sabo, don’t split the group, don’t send people off on their own. How do I keep in contact with you with no phones, what if the car breaks down, what if you d—” you stop yourself, wincing, irritated at the tears prickling the edges of your eyes.

Gently, patiently, Sabo pried your arms apart, rubbing and relaxing the muscles until you went limp enough for him to take your hands.

“I’m going to come back. I know it’s horror movie rules, but another horror movie rule is to not leave home base unattended, right?” he asked, kissing the backs of both your hands. You scowled up at him, though the expression was somewhat dampened when you leaned forward to gently bonk his forehead with yours. He laughed, the chiming sound of it wriggling stubbornly into your heart, and you sighed.

“Okay...next time I’m going though. We’ll trade off. Deal?” You asked.

Sabo linked his pinky with yours. “I’ll even bring back walkie-talkie’s, there’s a hunting store in town that ought to have decently long range ones.”

You nodded, placated for the time being, though it made you queasy with anxiety to watch him pulling away from your little safe haven, even moreso to watch the way the little car seemed to vanish into the foliage like it had never been there at all.

Sabo felt it too, nausea churning in his stomach as he pulled away. He knew you’d be safe this far out, but leaving you behind felt awful.

Lying to you felt awful, too. You were so good, so loving, so trusting, and it broke his heart to have to not be honest with you...but it was only for a little while longer. Routine cured a great many ills, and once he had everything settled, your life together would be secure. Unshakable.

Just a little while longer.

**

It had been eerie, a little, that first time, walking back up into the cabin alone. Not quite so ominous as the very first day, but the silence of it was unsettling. Without the semi-constant flow of conversation with your lover, or the sound of hammering, or the promise of outdoor activities, the reality of your situation...of, potentially, the world’s situation...began to creep in at the corners again.

Sabo had made fairly quick work of...whatever the creature had been, that was sure, but he had taken it by surprise. And there had only been one.

What if they moved in groups? What if only some of them were shambling and loud and slow like that that? What if—

You shut the thoughts down, slapping your hands gently against your cheeks until the mental noise started to subside. If you were going to be functional through this, you were going to have to learn to adapt...and to trust the man you loved to keep his promises.

He would come back to you, car loaded with enough soup to make you sick of the prospect, and everything would be fine.

For a moment you had simply stood in the middle of the livingroom, looking around the space thoughtfully. Most of the actually necessary maintenance had been done by now, the only rooms still boarded were ones where the glass had been damaged somewhat, whether by the storm or disuse.

You’d found so many bed linens and vacuum-sealed bags of clothes you’d both wondered how many people Garp had actually intended to have stay at the cabin, despite Sabo’s assurances that to his knowledge he, Luffy, Ace, and the old man had been the only ones he’d ever seen there.

Still, there were two floors and a basement full of closets and storage that it would hurt nothing to sort through, and so you set about that task. In a blind stroke of luck, the first closet you’d gone through in one of the side rooms on the first floor had contained a record player, and five boxes worth of old vinyls. That, at least, was something, and you had chased the eerie silence out of the cabin with The Eagles and Steely Dan while you worked.

By the time Sabo came back—almost exactly an hour and a half on the dot—you had cleaned out several shelves worth of vinyls, card games, and board games, and were feeling in considerably better spirits.

Your lover had laughed when he’d come in to find you sitting in a sea of old school entertainment, blasting classic rock, and you’d dashed up into his arms, kissing him thoroughly once you’d checked to make sure he wasn’t injured.

“Not a hair out of place, just like a promised,” he’d said, cradling your cheeks to kiss you back for a moment before reaching around you to turn the record player off. You’d gone out with him then to find a pretty impressive haul. Canned food, a better can-opener than the rusty old one in the kitchen, what looked like bulk boxes of jerky and dried meats from what was likely backstock, dried beans, rice, a rice cooker, snacks, a much nicer first aid kit, and, as promised, two long range walkie-talkies.

“This should hold us for a month if we’re careful with it, and fish at least once a week,” he said. You blinked up at him.

“Sabo I’m reasonably sure there’s enough soup and rice here to last us to Christmas if we had to ration,” you said, looking at all of it. Nothing was in bags, as though he had hastily loaded everything he could grab into carts and dumped it into the car.

Silence stretched between you for a long moment.

“How bad was it,” you asked quietly, watching his expression carefully.

Sabo exhaled, long and slow. “Not as bad as it could have been, maybe. Mostly it looks like people just evacuated, there’s a lot of places to hide in the mountains, but…” he worried the inside of his cheek for a moment, and ran his hand through his hair. “There were a lot of places that looked...damaged. Windows smashed in, a couple of places looked burned out. I didn’t...see anything. Anyone. But there was blood. In too many places to just have been an accident, I fear.”

Wind swept through the clearing, rustling through the trees, and a small part of your new reality began to settle over the pair of you at last. There was plenty of what had been to scavenge...but it did not seem as though there was anything to go back to.

“If things are that bad all the way out here, then the cities…” you trailed off, eyes focused a little too heavily on a can of chicken soup.

“I don’t know. I don’t know,” Sabo sighed. “Only thing we can do is stick it out here, and keep trying to find something on the radio.” He paused for a moment before leaning down to rest his chin on your shoulder. “Hey, at least we don’t have to worry about paying off those student loans anymore,” he said, kissing your cheek, and despite all you laughed just a little.

“That is one of the perks of the apocalypse. No rent either, credit scores are dead…” you said, glancing up at him with the tiniest grin before tugging him back towards the house.

“At least we’re together,” you added, and he beamed.

“At least we’re together.”

It took both of you, a bed sheet, and three trips to get everything he’d packed into the car in the house, and another hour spent organizing the kitchen into a well stocked and usable resource.

As you’d curled up together to sleep that night, you resolved to set what was out of your mind. There would be time to grieve...forever, perhaps, to grieve...but the first priority had to be keeping each other safe, and your spirits high. All you’d ever really had before was each other, at least on a daily basis, and you could do worse in the nebulous end of the world than having the love of your life by your side.

Sleep took you more easily, and when thunder rolled and rumbled through your little valley, nestled warmly in Sabo’s arms, you didn’t even stir.

**

Months passed, late summer blend into fall bled into early winter, and you and Sabo had fallen mostly into a comfortable routine.

Intermittently, perhaps a handful of times, Sabo had managed to raise someone on the radio. The people he contacted seemed healthy, sometimes scared, but nobody he spoke to seemed to know any more than they did. Occasionally, one of them would be willing to share their approximate location, but according to Sabo this part of the country had never been particularly trusting of strangers at the best of times, and he wasn’t terribly surprised most people didn’t want to give up their safe havens.

The people you did get information out of went up on a map you two had set up. While mostly people wouldn’t tell where they were, they were willing to share info about towns nearby, about the accessibility of supplies, and the levels of...activity that they’d seen.

It had been decided, after a week’s worth of debating back and forth, that given what appeared to be an increasing amount of activity, and given that Sabo was vastly more familiar with this area of the state than you were, that he would do the supply runs. They were few and far between, provided that he found well-enough stocked stores, and with the compromise that he go as early as possible, so that he wasn’t running around in broad daylight for...whatever might be there to see, you had eventually acquiesced.

The cabin was remote, but there was logic to keeping it locked and guarded with at least one occupant, as whatever this new world’s creatures were, they weren’t the only possible dangers that might crop up. While neither of you liked it, on the second big supply run Sabo had returned home with a rifle.

“You don’t have to use it, but I’d feel a lot better if you at least had it.” He’d explained, as you’d looked the thing over on the front lawn, frowning.

The idea of someone just stumbling onto your little refuge seemed extremely unlikely...but so had the world ending on a random Tuesday evening in August, previously. While you’d been mostly opposed in your previous life, it would have been silly to deny the ambient protection having the thing around provided. In the end, you’d agreed to keep it by the front door for emergencies during the day, and by your bedroom door for emergencies at night, and that had been the end of it.

All-in-all, you felt that the two of you were doing pretty well, all things considered. The cabin was comfortable and well-secured, you’d worked out a supply-running system that seemed to be keeping Sabo safe, and while the other people he’d found weren’t...accessible...knowing that the two of you weren’t the only people who had made it out, at least within range of the radio, was comforting enough to keep you both in good spirits.

For better or worse, everything seemed...perfect.

Which was why, when you were sorting through the most recent supply haul, trying to get all the consumables sorted from the toiletries and such, you weren’t exactly sure what to make of the slip of paper.

You’d almost thrown it away without thinking, eyes glazing over it when it dropped from between two bottles of shampoo, but just before it slipped out of your fingers and your mind entirely, you paused. Froze, rather, in the middle of the movement, and turned the paper over to look at it.

It was a receipt. It had been folded up and in on itself multiple times, long enough, perhaps, to accommodate the long list of supplies currently spread out at your feet.

Something acrid and metallic felt like it was creeping up your windpipe. Quickly, you had poked your head around the corner to check where Sabo was, only to find him chopping wood in the back yard, his breath clouded around his face in the cool winter air.

You watched him, your great love, until he looked up and smiled. You smiled back, and laughed a little when he blew you a kiss before going back to work.

You looked at him, and at the folded piece of paper on the counter, then back at him.

Maybe it was old. Neither of you had been the most fastidious people alive in the times before, perhaps this was simply from a long past shopping trip. Maybe it was from CVS, maybe that’s why it appeared to be several feet long.

That horrible, cold feeling lingered in your chest, though. Part of you wanted to look at it, if only to confirm that you were being ridiculous. Part of you felt like looking at it was a betrayal, was suggesting that you didn’t trust the love of your life.

Part of your mind began to turn over the radio room again, the fact that he was the only one leaving the clearing, that you hadn’t seen any part of the outside world beyond the lake and trails and grounds of the cabin in months.

It was absurd. A terrible train of thought. The manifestation of deferred grief, trying one last time to reason its way out of the end of your old life. You took a deep breath before picking up the piece of paper, determined to simply throw it away and be done, but the door opened just as you were about to let it go. On instinct, terrified for reasons you couldn’t imagine naming, you had stuffed it into your pocket instead, grabbing a jar of peanut butter and plastering on a grin just as Sabo came around the corner into the kitchen.

He paused for a moment at the sight of you, brows knitting together curiously as he approached you.

“You alright darling? You look a little pale,” he said, though he still stuffed his chilly fingers under your shirt, making you jump and laugh.

“Yeah, yeah,” you said, a little breathlessly, as you forewent the peanut butter in favor of warming him in your arms. “Just trying to get everything edible sorted out from cleaning stuff and meds, I think I’m just hungry,” you said bracingly, and he visibly relaxed.

“Tell ya what, let’s have a bath, and then I’ll get the stove going so we can make dinner, there’s enough wood chopped up to last us through the week I think,” he said, kissing your lips, your forehead, your nose.

You sighed contentedly, leaning into his affections with a nod. “Sounds perfect ‘Bo,” you said, and he grinned before popping off to run the water.

You stood there for a moment, fingertips brushing the outline of the receipt in your pocket, before calling out to Sabo that you were going to grab you both some fresh clothes and then you’d be in to join him. He acquiesced airily, easily, and you dashed upstairs, guilt and fear clawing at your throat.

You hated lying to him. You couldn’t even remember the last time you had. You stashed the crumpled receipt inside your pillowcase, before grabbing the promised clothes to bring down to him.

Next time he left, you’d look. It would be nothing, he’d laugh it off or console you for the misunderstanding...it would be nothing. You had no reason in the world to suspect him—objectively, the world’s most perfect partner—of anything at all. Let alone whatever your paranoid little mammal brain seemed to be trying to put together here.

When you reappeared with comfortable clothes and sank down into the bath with him, he held you tightly, washed your hair, your back, drained the water and refilled it when it started to cool, and made tender, gentle love to you until the water had half sloshed out and you were both laughing and sated.

‘Stupid,’ you’d thought dreamily, sleepily, as your fingers brushed the receipt later, tucked into bed and warm and safe.

‘I’ll just throw it away in the morning,’ you promised silently, as Sabo’s arms drew you into sleep.

But you didn’t though.

You kept it on you, somewhere, at all times. A strange, cursed talisman, unopened and dangerous, Schrödinger’s evidence of something unformed and unfathomable that you couldn’t bring yourself to define.

The winter holidays came and went, a New Year passed, to be spent fully in the new world you’d come to accept. The folded, worn piece of paper burned a hole in your pocket until finally, towards the end of January, supplies had dwindled low enough that Sabo announced he would be going on another run.

If he noticed your tension, or the way you seemed to hover and linger around him while he mapped out the route, he seemed to attribute it to nerves. Which wasn’t entirely an inaccurate, made it feel at least a little less like lying when you wrapped your arms around him and made him promise, as always, to come back to you safely.

**

Sabo watched you in the rearview mirror as he drove away, watched the little wave you raised as he trundled onto the path...and watched you disappear into the house before he’d made it fully into the trees.

Something was wrong. Like a miasma wafting through the air, nebulous, maddening, something had been wrong for weeks now.

It wasn’t always, of course, it wasn’t even often...but it was enough. Every now and again he’d catch you staring into space, eyes furrowed, worrying at the seams of your pants like you were trying not to be sick.

You never flinched away when he reached for you in those moments, always sank into the comfort of his touch...but you wouldn’t talk about it, either. At first, he’d been willing to brush it off as grief; your whole life, your whole world had changed, outside of your relationship with him. It was only natural that, eventually, that that wound would need tended to.

It was the little moments of fear that he couldn’t quite place, that unsettled him the most. Sometimes he would walk into the room and you would jump, startled; you always laughed it off as a moment of inattention, but even minutes later that haunted look would still be there, glimmering in the depths of your eyes…

He hated it. He hated that something was frightening you...and he hated that he couldn’t figure out what it was. He’d made sure everything here was as perfect, as comfortable, as safe and quiet and enjoyable as he possibly could. You had routine, you had fresh air, good food, books and games and music and—not to be forward—as many orgasms as he could give you in a given night.

Everything was perfect. So what had changed? What was different now, that hadn’t been there before?

Sabo pulled to a stop at the opening of the little side road, staring at the depression on the other side of the road for a moment before picking up the walkie-talkie.

“Eagle 1 to Kid Gorgeous, you there baby?” Sabo called casually into the receiver, and waited.

And waited. And waited.

He frowned, his heartbeat starting to falter, to race.

Something was wrong.

You’d never taken this long to answer, not since the first time when you’d accidentally gotten on different channels. Sabo pulled out onto the street wide, pulling back around to head back to the house, when the receiver crackled to life. He stopped dead in the street in his haste to answer it.

“Sorry, sorry hon, Kid Gorgeous was an idiot and dropped the pitcher of iced tea on the floor,” your voice settled over his frightened heart like balm on a wound, and he sighed, almost laughing before pressing the button down to answer you.

“Eagle One’s sorry to hear that, do you need me to come back and take care of the glass?”

“No, no, nothing here broken but a pitcher and my pride. Hopefully they’ve got another one where you’re headed.”

Sabo sighed, willing himself down out of panic mode, and put the car in drive, turning back onto the road again. “Roger that. I love you.”

“I love you, too, ‘Bo.”

With a deep breath, he set the receiver down in the cupholder, and willed himself to let the paranoia go.

If there was something wrong, you’d deal with it together. He had to trust you, he had to, or this was never going to work.

**

Sabo had been gone for maybe an hour by the time you collapsed onto the livingroom couch, annoyed with yourself and sweaty in the heat of the cabin despite the chill outside.

Part of you just wanted to take a shower and lay down, sleep through the empty hours until your lover returned. This time he was going on a run a couple little towns over, having mostly exhausted anything useful from the tiny town you’d been taking things from so far.

Your bed was comfortable, and so inviting after cleaning up glass and spilled tea and feeling very silly indeed...but the receipt was also up there, burning a hole in the innocent linen of your pillowcase.

Unwilling to go up there and face it, even for the reward of a nap, you had picked yourself up, resolved to grab a granola bar and head to the back of the cabin, to start going through the larger storage closet and its contents.

This little organization project had become something of a personal challenge for you, and Sabo had respected it, sitting with you while you worked on it sometimes, but largely leaving it to you. It was nice to have something to be working on ongoingly, nice to have something to do beyond just tidying up and listening to music when you were guarding the fort.

In hindsight, it was a little funny that the one truly unattended thing you were allowed to do here was what unraveled the entire facade.

The back bedroom seemed to have been Sabo’s youngest brother’s bedroom from when he was a child. The bed was covered over with protective covering still—as presumably Luffy had chosen a different room in the oddly cavernous cabin when he’d gotten older—the walls adorned with posters about different insects, the jungle-themed wallpaper adding a little extra fun and whimsy to what appeared to be a large collection of toys, action figures, and little pirate ships along the dressers.

You smiled fondly, but mostly left those things alone, determined instead to make the closet accessible, and to see if there was anything they might find useful inside.

It had occurred to you to ask, early on in your time here, whether Sabo’s brothers might try to find the cabin themselves. Sabo had looked hopeful for a moment, though his expression had quickly turned thoughtful.

“Lu’s off working on that nature preserve, and Ace is out there working with some of his buddies with the firewatch again,” he had said, smiling, if perhaps a little sadly. “They’re way out west...and while Ace has his Jeep, I don’t know that they’d risk such a long ride back. At least not until...or if...this craziness starts to die down.”

And that had made sense. It saddened you that Sabo might be out of range of his brothers for quite a long time, but neither of you had a solution for it, and so, like so many other things, you had simply learned to let it go.

You’d mostly been going through the boxes on autopilot, letting your tired mind drift while you went through what looked like children’s toys, books about beetles, old boxes with parts of expired experiments, a very dead chia pet...but you stopped when, at the bottom of the third box, a hand-crank radio slid into view.

It was pristine, despite how long it had likely sat buried underneath other toys and the remnants of childhood adventures past. You pulled it out of the bottom of the box, and for a long time you just...stared at it.

You glanced up at the ceiling, up towards the vague direction of the radio room that you’d never entered, towards the radio that was your only link to the outside world, the one thing in the house you’d effectively been forbidden to tamper with.

“It’s just a toy...it probably doesn’t have enough range to pick anything but the emergency broadcast system up,” you muttered to yourself, turning it over in your hand. Nothing on the back listed a distance, only a range of frequencies the little radio could pick up.

“Nothing but AM out this far probably, anyway. Maybe some automated church broadcast…”

you swallowed hard, suddenly stifled, like the walls of the cabin were pressing in on you, frozen, waiting.

What could it hurt? With slightly shaking fingers, you pulled the crank out of its cradle, and turned it. The first few times, nothing seemed to happen. Maybe it was broken, maybe it was so old it couldn’t be charged.

You turned it for 30 seconds, nothing. You turned it for another 30 seconds, nothing. You turned the crank for a full additional minute to no immediate response, and just as you were about to give up, to call it dead or broken and put it back in the box marked as unusable...the little front display lit up, and a voice blared out, lively and jarring in the solitude you’d come to accept.

“Annnnd folks we’re at the top of the hour, you’re listening to 43.3 AM, The Buzz. This is Buzz McCallan, comin to you with News on the 8s!”

You sat there for nearly 40 minutes, unmoving and sick. Through News on the 8s, through the update on sports, through a call-in section that seemed to be comprised of mostly disgruntled truckers...and through the Daily Update. A section on the reconstruction efforts, after the world’s brush with death.

After. The end of the world, as it turned out, had lasted for perhaps 3 weeks of sustained bloodshed and chaos, before the world had figured out how to fight back. It had taken another month after that to take stock of what had been lost, and to begin airdropping packets of a compound that seemed to reverse the damage to the parts of the brain that governed behavior and pain tolerance that the infection had damaged.

Now, nearly 6 months after the initial outbreak, the world, while still recovering...had mostly put itself back together again.

The little radio had finally run out of the charge you’d given it just as Buzz McCallan had finished his rant about gas prices, and when it shut off you simply sat there in the tinny, ringing silence.

Your mind was blank, perhaps mercifully so, as you rose on shaking, numb legs, and let your internal autopilot carry you up the stairs to the bedroom you’d been sharing.

By this point, you knew what you’d find as you fished out the crumpled receipt, and let it fall open in your hands.

Every item, listed and accounted for, dated and timestamped ‘Your cashier today was Marta!’ He’d paid in cash. He’d received $5.29 in change.

You wondered, somewhat perversely, if the people in the parking lot had thought he looked strange, dumping all of his neatly bagged groceries out, bag by bag, into the back of his car. You wondered if they thought it was one of those doomsday preppers, still too affected by the near-miss with apocalypse to think clearly.

You wondered if they thought he was nuts.

The whole world was still out there. Your job, your friends. Chinese takeout and movie trailers and neighbors you had always greeted politely but had no desire to meet.

“He’s keeping you prisoner,” a voice in your mind whispered. You frowned, brows furrowed, and shook your head.

“He’s never tried to stop me from leaving the cabin,” you whispered into the stagnant air.

The voice in your mind, which remembered horror movies and true crime podcasts, tutted. “Not the cabin. But have you so much as touched that car, unless he was there with you unloading groceries?”

You knew you were having a breakdown. You knew it was too much to take in, to understand.

“Something really did happen to us...to everyone, though. Maybe he’s just scared. He’s trying to keep us safe…” you whispered, your throat tightening around panic and tears and anger and grief.

“Sure. And that holds up for the first supply run...but you know he knew by the second. He’s paying in cash. He kidnapped you.”

Kidnapped. The word rocketed around your mind like a meteor, crashing through your rational thoughts, your excuses, battering your wounded and confused heart as it made its way down to lay like lead in your stomach.

Your internal voice didn’t have anything else to add, it seemed; the damage had been done, the illusion shattered. You had no idea what to think, what to do—your phone had been misplaced at some point early on, although now you wondered whether he hadn’t just chucked it into the lake, your purse was where you’d left it ages ago: in the car.

Still...you had to get out. Didn’t you? You couldn’t stay here, you couldn’t pretend that you didn’t know what happened. You couldn’t trust the love of your life.

Hot, stinging tears welled up and began to fall at that. Did you even know him? What was he capable of? Would he hurt you, if you tried to get away?

You shook your head so roughly your neck cracked, leaping up off the bed as you tried to stave off what you were sure was a panic attack.

You changed your clothes into something warmer, changed into a pair of the hiking boots you wore when the two of you went out fishing. The road was out there, you could follow it to the highway. Find someone. As long as you made it off the forest drive before he came back, you could make it. You tore through the kitchen, gathering food, filling your water bottle, getting a backpack you’d taken from one of the closets ready to depart.

You’d leave him a note. With the receipt and the radio. You could at least do that. Despite all, the idea of leaving him with nothing, with no way of knowing what had happened to you, hurt too much to consider.

After a moments thought, you grabbed the rifle from where it sat, primed, leaning against the doorway, and slung it over your shoulder. You didn’t know how far you’d have to go to find help, but walking alone in a world you hadn’t been part of in six months without any sort of protection seemed unwise, somehow.

The adrenaline in your system wasn’t helping the way you thought it should. Your body felt sluggish and unwieldy, like it might give out and drop you to the floor at any moment. Writing out the note felt like moving your hand through cement, comprehending the words to explain felt like sand against your brain. Everything hurt. The lights were too bright, your ears were ringing.

It was hard to hear anything over the sound of your body’s resistance to its new conditions. Which was probably why you hadn’t heard it when the car had come trundling to a stop. Hadn’t heard the sound of Sabo’s footsteps as he’d bounded up the stairs.

You almost screamed when the front door popped open, but when you whirled around with the rifle, at first, your lover had laughed—instinctively, nervously.

“Hey love, wh...what’s going on? You weren’t answering on the walkie,” he asked, raising his hands slowly, head cocked to the side in confusion, as he looked from the muzzle of the rifle to you.

The words seemed locked in your throat, and when you just stared at him, the look on his face changed from confusion to alarm. To fear. You grit your teeth, hating it, hating him, hating yourself.

“What’s going on, sweetheart...what happened here…?” Sabo took a tentative, slow step towards you. Your body, frozen to the spot, only managed to stare back at him, the muzzle trained on his chest still.

Those cornflower blue eyes you loved so dearly flickered between you and the gun again before looking back towards the entry hall table...only to fall upon the offerings you’d left there. The radio. The receipt. The rudiments of a note.

For the briefest flickering of a moment, Sabo’s expression went entirely blank, eyes darkening down to blackened slits of panic and pain that seemed to flash through your own chest sympathetically.

“Luffy’s room, probably, huh,” he whispered thickly.

You nodded, your own voice still trapped in your chest. You wondered idly whether you had truly lost your voice, or whether your body knew that if it let you speak you might never never never stop screaming.

You took a deep, unsteady breath. Sabo took another step towards you, pain and sorrow etched across his face once more.

“Let me have the gun, sweetheart. I swear I’ll explain, I’ll tell you everything. No more secrets. Just...let me have this,” He said softly, earnestly, lowering one hand slightly towards the rifle.

You took a jerky step back and he stopped, raising his hands again.

With a voice that was more breath and pain than sound, you whispered “I’ll shoot you.”

Tears welled delicately in Sabo’s eyes, but he shook his head. “No, you won’t.”

Your hands started to shake. Of course you wouldn’t. You couldn’t. The image of him, bloodied and cooling in the entryway, carved its way out of you like a knife and you whimpered...but held on.

“Why not,” you whispered again. “Why shouldn’t I?”

Sabo smiled gently, sadly, the tears slipping down his beautiful cheeks. “Because you love me...and the only ammunition I brought for the rifle are blanks.”

Dark spots began to swim in your vision then, the panic of the moment, the heat of the cabin, the agony of betrayal and confusion all beginning to wear through your senses. You had no plan for this, no experience to fall back on, the only comfort and safety you’d known in your adult life was standing opposite you, perched atop a castle of lies and coercion that you simply could not understand.

On instinct, you flung the rifle at him, winging it with all your waning strength as you lunged past him for the door.

He caught it with one hand, tossing it to the side as he spun to give chase, pressing something on the key ring as he did so.

Ahead of you, just barely out of reach, the front door swung closed ahead of you, and the odd trick mechanism clicked heavily into place. You ran into it, clumsy and sick with sadness and fear, just as Sabo caught up with you, colliding with your body and trapping you against the front door as the rest of the cabin responded to the panic button he had pressed.

His voice at your ear was so warm, so comforting, so unbelievably sad as he explained to you what was happening.

“Luffy’s grandfather really did lose it in his later years, the radio room actually is dangerous,” he whispered, running his palms soothingly up and down your arms despite the weight he was using to keep you pressed to the door. Just the way he had done a hundred thousand times before, conditioning you with his touch to be calm, to be pliant. Your mind felt like it was fracturing, leaning into the comfort of his touch just as it tried to wrestle your muscle control away from him.

Sabo shifted to make sure you could breathe and then continued. “He didn’t stop at the radio room, though. The doors and windows are all reinforced with steel, the doorframes are rooted into the foundation with concrete and rebar. I don’t know what he thought Ace’s biological father might be coming to do, but he prepped this place for war.”

Tears streamed down your face, frustrated, scared; part of you wished you’d just left well enough alone. That things could just go back to the way they were. Part of you didn’t understand how someone who loved you as thoroughly, as honestly as Sabo did, could do this to you. How anyone could ever do this.

“Why is this happening,” you whispered, partially muffled by the door.

Sabo sighed, sounding more weary than you’d ever heard him. “It was real, at first, whatever happened at the apartment. In the beginning all I could think about was making sure we got out here before it got worse, before people started to panic and the roads closed up. The storm really did interfere with the radio reception, and that little town really did look guttered out when I first made a run for supplies,” he said softly, fingertips lulling your unwilling body, coaxing you to relax. He kissed the back of your head, and it took all your control not to lean back into it.

“And it worked, you know, didn’t it? We got set up out here so fast, and since it’s private property and set so far back in the forest, nobody was able to follow us. Nothing sick made it out this far. You were safe, we were together, and…” he trailed off for a moment, forehead leaning against the back of your head, still trying to soothe you as the tears fell harder.

“...and we were happy. So happy. Happy as we’ve always been...and without any of the drudgery or people or circumstances that ever caused us stress. Remember, you said no student loans? No bills at all. No politics. None of your mean, ugly distant relatives, no more morning commute to work, no more mocking up powerpoints for rich assholes that never even commend you for your work.”

Your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest, but he continued, his voice steadying into something righteous, something indignant, although it was clear that furor wasn’t directed at you.

“Every day some nonsense or another kept us apart, wore you down, caused us trouble...there was plenty enough in the inheritance to keep us comfortable, if the cost of living hadn’t just kept climbing and climbing and climbing...but then the infection started. Then we came out here, we got away...and I know it’s awful, but part of me was desperate for it to be the end. To be a REAL reset. The whole system is rotten…” One of Sabo’s hands slid down until he could wrap it around your waist, pulling you to him, rocking you carefully back and forth against the door.

It frightened you that he was still trying to comfort you, it frightened you more how badly you wanted him to, how badly you wanted all of this to go away.

Maybe he was right...it wasn’t like rent was getting any lower.

“Stop, please...Sabo, please,” your voice sounded reedy thin in your ears. Sabo splayed his palm out against your belly, kissed the back of your neck softly.

You sighed against the door, warmth blossoming through you. You couldn’t think. This wasn’t right.

When he spoke again, his lips still brushing the back of your neck, it was with a voice so wounded, so desperate, that you almost didn’t recognize it.

“Has this really been so bad?” he asked softly, rocking with you again, fingertips stroking the slight line of skin where your shirt had ridden up. You shivered, and he sighed with you, sympathetic, in sync.

“Is being here...being together...being beyond everything that hurt us before...safe and comfortable...is it really such a bad thing to want?”

Your eyes slip closed as his fingers, blunt and warm, dip beneath the waistband of your pants. Your brows furrow, but the fight’s gone out of you now. Whatever moment there might have been to escape this, to escape back into your body and yourself and the world...had passed you, at some point.

“We’re safe here...we’re taken care of here...we can live for each other and no one else...not many people get to boast a life like that,” this time when he kissed the back of your neck, lips trailing down towards your ear, you leaned back into him, into his touch.

The world stopped, the cabin walls pressed in, anxious, greedy. Waiting.

“No,” you whispered, and this time when you shifted, Sabo leaned off just enough to let you turn in his arms.

When he kissed you, long and deep, you sank into it. Back into the comfort, back into the stability of a world—of a life—that your lover had made so, so simple for you.

Sabo’s body shook against you, in longing, in relief, even as his fingertips slid lower to find you wanting. Needing.

He’d hated lying to you. Hated every moment of it. He’d tell you, he’d spend the rest of his life on his knees for you if you needed it. Anything for you to feel safe.

“You’re perfect,” he mouthed against your lips, your throat, between the valley of your breasts once he’d removed the stupid sweater that had kept you hidden from him.

“I love you,” he vowed as he sank to his knees before you, taking away the winter pants you would no longer need, tossing your hiking boots with them over his shoulder and away.

“I’m sorry,” he intoned, as he slid his tongue between your lips, laved worship and remorse against you, filled your exhausted body and broken mind with pleasure.

“Not like you,” you’d whispered back, to this, and to all, as you let him take the pain away.

He offered you an out, as he slicked his fingers into you, curling forward, giving you everything just like he’d always promised.

He offered you an out, as the pleasure peaked, wracking you with relief far beyond the moment at hand…

...and you took it.

[hotnsweetnprimrose]

Who am I? Well,

I'm part boy part girl, boygirl, the protector and mayor of transgenders! Well. Not that last one, that's not an official position nor would I claim it in a non-joking manner. I'm just a silly t4t slut :P

If you see this blog in sfw areas or engaging with sfw blogs, I’m just there to shitpost and I cannot be bothered to do a main blog switch thing lmao. But if it makes you uncomfortable, that’s okay too! Feel free to block. I will also probably reblog sfw memes and such too. A laugh is a powerful thing.

Last Updated: Jun 9 2025 - had a birthday

My name is Prim or Eden (switch 'em up when it's been a while). I'm 23, I am trans, non-binary, and bigender (androgyne flavor), and I'm here to fuck and get fucked, at least in what ways are possible over the internet. I'm interested in all genders, but have far more fondness in my heart for my fellow trans folk. :P (I’m on the aroace spectrum but absolutely sex-favorable. It’s fun)

I'm a switch and vers in many things! I am 5'1" and a tad fragile. However due to mental health stuff, domming requires a Lot of trust in advance. I’m more likely to sub simply because it’s less stressful for me at this point.

My pronouns are fae/faer, they/them, and she/he (alternating). If you’re ever in doubt for what to call me, just slam both binary gendered words together until it sounds not terrible. Examples include guygal, boygirl, princessprince, etc.

I might use it/its for myself while in subspace being a toy, don’t change any of your language in response unless I ask or you get permission, please!

I strongly believe in trans joy and t4t joy. Transmasc transfem transneutral trans [fill in the blank] we are all so hot and cool. <3 It brings me joy to lend aid whenever and wherever I can. This blog is focused on trans 4 trans first and foremost. Cis people are an afterthought, almost always.

Send me asks if you want! DMs even! I love meeting people! Don't be shy! Unless you're cis, then I have high standards so yes do be shy. And if you’re cis and heterosexual? …. Sorry, if you’re attracted to me, you absolutely cannot be both of those things! I have a discord available after I get dm'd because tumblr dms my behated.

Please don't interact if you're a minor or don't have your age in your bio. I will block you. Immediately. Be patient and you'll have a chance to explore when it doesn't endanger yourself or others.

More stuff under the readmore including limits, kinks, and other tidbits.

I also just block and unfollow liberally if you aren't firmly on the side of t4t solidarity and mutual support. We're all having a hard time out here. (I also will not hesitate break mutuals if you post content that damages my mental health that I can't filter for. This is my safe haven.) - if you support calling anyone theyfab without that being a thing they said they’re okay with I’m sorry but you’re getting fully blocked on here. I have moral OCD traits that are bad enough without me feeling like my very identity is fake to people I thought could be trusted. Thanks!

Top Surgery (No Nips!!!! Wahoo!!): 10/16/2024

Anatomical Terms:

clit, tdick, tcock, cunt, pussy = GOOD!

boygirl + any term that's deemed good already= GREAT!!

hole = fine. a bit boring

vagina = BAD! too technical

If I'm dominant in your scenario, call me mastress, mixtress, or captain. Sir is on the table for those who earn it. If I'm submissive in your scenario, call me toy, pet, diminuitive names, or kitten.

Let me know if you need anything tagged!

Due to me being bigender (androgyne edition), I try not to reblog posts with "men dni" or "women dni" on them as I feel like that's denying part of my identity. Also out of principle so maybe people will be less broad with those kinds of statements OR remember multigender folks like myself exist. Please don't binarize me, that sucks.

I call the rp/kink fiction/pretend element "kayfabe" because wrestling is y'know. somewhat analogous to kink in some ways!

I have a lot of posts I still have to queue and tag alas.

Not Planning on Going On Longtime Systemic T Please Don't Act Like I Am [I use tcock and tdick with the t meaning trans or t4t, not testosterone <3]

List time!!!!

g = giving, r = receiving

BIG YESES!!

body worship [g+r]

praise [g+r]

tentacles & monsters [...g+r] (used to be this blog's main theme, but I'm revamping! might still post/rb it though)

bondage & restraint & shibari [g+r]

hypnosis [g+r]

bimbofication & dumbification genre [g+r]

creampies [r+g but that requires a strap and/or imagination] - I hate this word I need a new word!! The stuff with breeding is good but pregnancy is such a no go for me…. 🤔

overstim [g+r]

edging [g+r]

Objectification in the sense of being a toy, a tool, something with a function that does a job [r, unsure about g]

petplay [g+r I am a kitten thank you not a puppy sadly]

gentle gender affirming genderplay/forcemasc/forcefem!!!!!! [g+r]

size kink [I'm so damn short I gotta sexualize it]

DEFINITELY MORE I DON'T REMEMBER OFF THE TOP OF MY HEAD

CONTEXT DEPENDENT (not always a big yes but the version eithout context is a no)

anal [giving ONLY, and only with gloves or a strap. I do not stuff in my ass or touching that hole]

intox [giving/domming ONLY]

Consensual non-consent but ONLY if it's clearly established as such with the post/fiction (I know I'm rare in that I find the prep and negotiation hot but hey, I love communication and trust!)

Painplay [giving/domming ONLY]

Breathplay [giving/domming ONLY] (picky about this one because safety but also I got asthma so I need to breathe normally)

NOS!!!!

Any kind of pregnancy or pregnancy focused kink

Any sort of inflation (cumflation is case by case)

Breeding with the INTENT of pregnancy (see creampies above, I do love the raw sex and being cum in but pregnancy still makes me dysphoric)

Nipple/breast focused content and/or kink (don't have those anymore and they gave me dysphoria) [except if you want to do like. breast theft. then we can talk about it but I'm super picky it's basically a no] {okay I’m cool doing it for others tits but not Mine}

Detrans kink and misgendering kink (I respect you but not my thing and usually makes me dysphoric. More power to ya though!)

Kinks involving urine, scat [shit], or filth [literal] in any large capacity

Consensual Non-Consent when it's in-universe just non-con

I respect y’all but no f4uxc3st and please tag it!!!! I have it blocked because my brain goes “you want ocd symptoms abt this? Okay!” I don’t even have full ocd just traits n trauma 😔

Nudes. Not without my express and enthusiastic agreement (rare). I might send but I do not like to receive.

[all of this is subject to changes and updates when I remember things not listed here or I learn more about my tastes!]

Tags:

#Prim Speaks = non-horny posts/writing/updates (that's what this is tagged as)

#Prim Whimpers = horny writing (submissive focus)

#Prim Smirks = horny writing (dominant focus)

#Prim Moans = horny writing (generally)

#Prim Reveals = if I ever do post suggestive pics this is the tag for that. we'll see how I feel.

#it's the little things you queue together = queued posts, if you know what song and musical that's from, kiss me on the mouth.

There are two sideblogs off this blog but they’re both secret. Thank you <3

[lokiina]

I wasn't gonna do it. But I'm gonna do it.

I'm gonna kjhdkfjghdkfjg

If you don't want character spoilers I'm slapping this under a readmore but I need to cry a lil about Gale.

So many people just think he's annoying or Solas 2.0 and that's kdghdfkjgh

if it's not coherent I apologize I need to word vomit.

!! also some mental health related TWs ahead as a warning !!

THIS MAN IS SO DEEPLY DEPRESSED. His self worth is so low and it's so heart wrenching to listen to and the writing is incredible.

(A lot of the characters in this game deal directly with like Gods and the abusive relationships they have with them but this is for Gale specifically. Everyone's got their own mess that's it's own thing. )

Holy fucking shit. I don't know if you get some of the dialog options I have gotten if you don't actively romance him but omfg. Man openly admitted to being suicidal so you talking him out of blowing himself up while everyone else including the last love his life is saying "kill yourself" is such a big big deal. Even if the end result is being framed as help. It's not. It's more manipulation and down right fucking EVIL.

His relationship with Mystra is messed up, the power imbalance is fuckin wild and if anyone out of this is expecting a goddess to be the victim when she was clearly a manipulator is unreal. Their situation he was just trying desperately to prove his worth to her and her essentially stringing him along until he wasn't of any use anymore. He wanted Mystra to see him as equal to her, and nothing he ever did was enough for her. Cuz she did not care about him. If it was a proper relationship and she actually loved him back he wouldn't have had to try to continuously prove himself.

He was taken advantage of through his relationship and his entire self worth has been shattered. Now he's not entirely without fault through some of it and acknowledges where he screwed up himself.

When you offer to find another way for him that doesn't end up in him exploding, you kick a lil spark back into him and as someone who's fuckin struggled with self worth and depression. I feel for him so hard. Sometimes it does take another person simply acknowledging your worth to be that lil spark. It doesn't even have to be in a romantic sense.

This man is high key autistic coded. Everything about the way he loves so purely, misses cues on certain things and misunderstands and needs direct clarification on stuff. Ask him about his special interest, magic. The gloom drops in these moments. It's fuckin precious as hell to see him light up.

The writing in this game is fucking phenomenal and I just. I have a lot of deep feels on this whole thing. Every character has so many lil layers to them and I wanna just smooch the whole dev team.

Anyway. He's my fav character out of this chaotic game and I just. I will protect this silly wizard with my life. He deserves good things. Fuck his haters.

I wanna go get some comfy fluffy art of him and my boy.

[origamihoshi]

As someone who made their Inky a 14 year old kid (Pa was a Templar, Mama was a Mage they made it work and then died at the Conclave and Now Everyone has to grapple with the ethical conundrum and implications of a kid being the Herald of Andraste etc.). I need the lore on your kid! Inquisitior and the fluff.

oh I love that! feel free to tell me about your inky too if you wish, they sound so interesting. 💚

okay I haven't played as them yet so things may change (I am slowly going through the DA games again but DAO has so many parts I don't enjoy it's been hard 😔 but soon I'll get to play the DA games I do enjoy)

Drawing of an idea of how they could look. I do want to add some freaky shit more from the anchor to show how much it's fucked them up.

Looking into their eyes is like looking into the fade, this kid like partly fade nonsense at this point.

will put this under a readmore so it doesn't get too long. this will all probably be a mess so hopefully things are understandable, and also shows I'm trying to not get lost in thinking about them too much when I'm still playing DAO and need to still play DA2.

Lior is eight years old, goes by they/them, is an orphan that got super attached to Divine Justinia to the point Justinia had no choice but to accept she had a kid now. That's why they were at the Conclave, they were meant to stay put and out of everything but they went looking for Justinia when they ran into Corypheus and took the anchor from him without understanding anything what is going on.

Cassandra and Leliana know this kid well, the worse they could do is not clean up a mess they made or steal sweets from the kitchen when they were told no, they both no this kid would never have any way of blowing up the Conclave, so the start of the game is one they do need to try and close the rift but also they need to keep this kid safe and try and shield them from the horrors (they can't)

Varric is for sure the first to speak up about how fucked this is putting a kid through all this.

Solas is suffering he never meant for a kid to be brought into his mess, he takes up teaching Lior how to control their newly gained magic. Lior gets super close to Solas like they get super attached to him so Trespasser is gonna hurt.

Vivienne also becomes another teacher when she joins because there's no way she's gonna let them only learn from an apostate.

The advisors + Cassandra all make the decisions so Lior is nothing but the figure head, the face of the inquisition because they're the Herald of Andraste.

I do have mods all set up for the playthrough so I'm gonna be using one that let's you do both the templar quest and the mage quest so I like to think they believed it was a good idea to take the kid to Therinfal Redoubt and that it should be safe (it wasn't), but Lior wants to help the mages too and won't shut up until they all go help, so they end up having to somehow get over to help the mages before anything happens, Lior and Dorian are stuck in the future for over a week as they try and get back to their time, what isn't easy when he has to keep this kid safe who is scared and still doesn't have the best handle on their magic at that point, they start calling Dorian uncle no matter what he says or thinks and this will never end.

Poor Lior is gonna have nightmares of the future for a very long time after this. They probably cling to Solas anymore than usual after they saw him corrupted by the red lyrium.

They of course befriend Kieran, they can be weird kids together (and maybe something else in the future because it could be fun to if they start having feelings for each other in veilguard but still haven't acted upon said feelings)

Also I keep imaging Blackwall making toys for them <3 he takes one look at them and knows what he must do, and also could partly be him trying to make up for things he did in the past.

They learn more than anyone probably wants them to from both Sera and Cole, two very different things but they're a kid so the pranks would be fun and I think Sera knows it and wants the kid to remember they're still just a person (and a kid) I feel like with Cole it's to do with the fact they're some mess of the fade now thanks to the anchor and somehow understand him really well so they both end up being weird together in ways that I think are really sweet.

Piggyback rides with Iron Bull is a must, sadly I think I'm gonna have him sacrifice the Chargers :c so Trespasser is also gonna hurt here too. (but this world state is about doing things a little differently than what I usually do so...)

The two DLCs will be done by other people, they won't send the kid into danger where they aren't needed, Lior only gets to go anywhere if there are rifts to be closed. Every mission becomes a escort mission if Lior is there.

By the end of the game they live with Divine Victoria (Leliana) and my HoF Aisling, those two take care of them until they're old enough to be on their own.

I like to think when my Hawke shows up they yell at everyone for letting any of this happen to a kid.

Also imagine an eight year old kid telling everyone at the ball how stupid they are all and they need to get along and work together.

In veilgaurd they would look probably like this (just with me leaning more into maybe some scaring left from the anchor I'm still trying to figure out how they'll be):

they've been through so much, losing their whole arm at age ten and now there's some new blight and they have to help? Kid needs help they're only 18 they can't be helping with saving the world again.

They still have a connection to the fade, it's just not killing them like the anchor was. (but anyone who knows me knows I love giving my characters chronic pain so you know they're dealing with pain from it all for the rest of their life)