#soulbeats

[resolbeats]

need any free type beats Check out

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[omanxl1]

Deep House Mix 2023 | Refresh Yourself #03 | Carlos Grau

Digital Crate Digging Continues on a Terrible / Terrific Tuesday where things can go either way! we claimed the terrific outcome the situation is critical,  they had a dude enhancing techniques chilling out in the lab /  muster stations. What it do? the hatred? I’m not digging it, even though it goes back!! The situation is pitiful!!  spotted dude acting like  George Santos showing bluster…

[djrecords]

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[fictionalshippingbean]

Dream to Cinna: you can hear peoples ‘soulbeats’? Come on that’s a little far fetched.

Cinna, staying silent for a bit before smirking slightly: *being flirty* I can hear yours too *gently grabbing Dream’s chin with a hand* your souls beating pretty fast

*Dream goes completely silent, blushing brightly*

[megabrianhibbertuniverse]

Slow Burning Soul.

Production Music for Film, TV, Radio and Online Media.

Website        http://otsm.co.uk/

Audition/Download  44.1kHz Wave       https://soundcloud.com/otsm/albums/

Show Reels  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1PrmouvkeJo

Info               https://news.prsformusic.com/1V6T-6JEA2-F8CDKXQF1A/cr.aspx

[organicdeep]

oldie

[am-reggae]

DJ Vadim – Dubcatcher 3 Flames Up // Sello: Soulbeats Records – SBR111 // 2 X LP Vinilo // Europa / 2019 // ======== ESTADO: ========== 2 X LP Nuevo / Precintado // ====== 28€ ======

[zu-is-here]

Zu, we need to talk ! How do you dare make them so perfectly in pain and happy at the same time (⁠ノ⁠•̀⁠ ⁠o⁠ ⁠•́⁠ ⁠)⁠ノ⁠ ⁠~⁠ ⁠┻⁠━⁠┻

I'm joking, I'm loved how you make them and how you make this moment (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)

Probably stupid question but in your comic before the Aim birth (you can see the one with Cross says at Dream "I don't need help") the Aim kick hurts Cross, but in the one with Cross falling asleep, the kick doesn't hurt. Does that mean that the longer you're pregnant the more it hurts, or do the little kicks not hurt, but they do if it's a powerful kick. I don't really know how to explain it, sorry (⁠๑⁠•⁠﹏⁠•⁠)

ヾ(≧∪≦*)ノ〃I'm really happy to hear it, thank you from the bottom of my heart ♡

No need to apologize! (ówò) If you mean Soulbeat, Aim doesn't kick there (like here because of Cross' aggression towards Dream), but on the contrary, he calms down because Dream is close again (〃ω〃)

What Dream hears is the beating of Aim's little soul inside Cross' <3

UPD: (*´꒳`*)

[undertale-fic-librarby]

Hey! Do you know any good Errormare fics? I know ‘Wayward’ and ‘At Their Mercy’, but I’m looking for more 👀

Howdy, thanks for asking! Here are some fics that might fit what you're looking for!

It's All Just Training, Right? by atomiCherry, Souldew_UT (Explicit, Complete)

Hopping from universe to universe after his own Anti-Void no longer suffices as a safe place from the chains of Fate, Error winds up in Nightmare’s Castle with none other than the God of Negativity himself, who’s far too pleased with the Destroyer’s presence. Unaware of Nightmare’s true intentions, Error finds himself taken aback by a suspicious yet remarkable deal that very few people have the courage to propose. It was meant to be a simple session, a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, but then the both of them find out that there might be more to their meeting than meets the eye… - updates every Tuesday and Friday

Catalyst for Concord by Somebody_OntheInternet (Mature, Incomplete)

“My ecto-o isn’t unsummoning.” He kept his gaze firmly locked on the carpet, refusing to look the other God in the eye. The tentacle in his grasp curled around his radius and ulna, and he squeezed it. There was an awful, crushing silence for a few moments, before his husband spoke: “…you don’t think..?” *----*----* After their mating cycles lined up, the "evil" Gods of Destruction and Negativity find themselves in quite the predicament. They must figure out how to balance their dangerous work with the task of ensuring their baby's development is healthy. That, and they have to ensure the Council does not find out. No matter what, Ink cannot find out.

Signed, Your Penpal by Hellsaint7w7 (General Audiences, Incomplete)

Geno and Nightmare fall in love through anonymous notes to each other and their love of books. But of course, Geno doesn’t stay Geno forever and Nightmare doesn’t handle it well.

Day 1: Teratophilia/Size Difference by Destiny_Of_A_Dragon (Explicit, Complete)

Nightmare feeds on too much Negativity and the only way Error can get them to calm down is by letting them use his body. Error felt Nightmare’s whole body shift and ripple— and couldn’t resist taking a peek over his shoulder again. The destructive Skeleton froze in a soulbeat, eye-lights shrinking as he saw the corrupted Guardian fumbling with their own pants, mind not stable enough yet to undo them properly. Eventually, the fabric tore— and Error’s eyes went wide as he saw what was underneath. S-stars, that was—! That was—! Nightmare was currently over twice his size and full to bursting with excess magic, but Error hadn’t really thought about what effect that might have on their ecto!

Chocolate Pampering by Souldew_UT (Mature, Complete)

Error succumbs to anxiously drown himself in chocolate - eating more and more every day than usual. He pays so much attention to the chocolate which eventually causes Nightmare to get stupidly jealous. Nightmare doesn't like sweets, but he likes to mess around with Error, so he takes all the chocolate away when Error is not present and hides it.

Thanks for the recommendation! The fics being recommended are…

Wayward by Queer_Sleep_Demon (Mature, Incomplete)

Error had always been in control of his teleporting abilities. He knew the ins and outs of world-hopping like the back of his hand. The joke was on him, though, because the multiverse didn't play by anybody's rules. An impulsive decision to teach Nightmare a lesson in respect went horribly wrong. As a result, Error and Nightmare become stranded in a foreign and hostile dimension. Finding a way out was easier said than done.

At Their Mercy by Devcipher (Teen And Up, Complete)

The multiverse had been perfectly balanced when the seven higher beings weaved it together. Through countless interferences, however, the balance has begun to tip, and stability is threatened. Fate's creation has been unresponsive to their warnings, and thus a solution must be made. While feuding with Destiny over a monster to be Ink's counterpart, Karma intervenes. Inspiration from Harrish6's Forced God of Destruction universe, but a unique alternate multiverse/universe of my own. Discord is constantly breaking the link for the ATM discord but: https://discord.gg/DgHWGnMNrs *EDIT: My server got raided twice please message me for a link lol* Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/devtemrys

Here's a few more fics that are similar to what you're asking for!

[dustcrumbs]

Dr. Crumbs

What if Dust just shakes, vibrates mayhaps, when thinking too hard about things

So Horror just squeezes him in a big hug and Dust's face gets squished into Horror's big man tits and hears his soulbeat, and that calms him down

- @largefoundation

I don't think it's only the heartbeat that's getting him to focus

But I do feel like Dust gets reslly fidgety when excited or interested. He'll hop on one foot and switch to the other as he rambles to Killer about something or he's just constantly tugging on his scarf as he's telling Horror about his plan to sneak out of the castle to see the aurora or smth idk

[fairy-verse]

I have a bit of questions i wish to ask abt fairyverse ^^

1. What would happen if a faerling became frail from not getting their needs? (E.g warmth and feeling and hearing their mothers soulbeat)

2. If two firstborns of a certain season were to have a faerling, would they need another one to be a precautionary heir to rule over that season if they die?

3. Are there other types of fairies besides the seasonal ones?

The faerling in question would at best grow up with weakened wings that will struggle to take flight, possess a dim light that reflects their fragile soul, and have a weaker tolerance for stress and injuries. At worst, they will slowly wither away and die.

The Firstborn are all immortal and do not require any heirs, though a faerling born from two of them would inherit some powers from them both, though these are not nearly strong enough to control either season. Should a Firstborn somehow die, then their faerling may temporarily control their season until they are reborn, but this would be terribly straining on their bodies and could result in death should said Firstborn parent take too long to be brought back.

Yes! The season fairies (all sans variants) are the most abundant ones, but there are also regular monster fairies (for example: Toriel, Asgore, Alphys, Undyne), and with the monster fairies you will also find Papyrus variants. These fairies live in different colonies on the eastern side of the Island, some have even fully adapted to living in Big Folk villages (within barns, attics, windmills, and the like), though you’ll have a larger chance of finding them near and within The Sleeping Sisters, Kval hills, and Willoway Forest. Papyrus fairies are especially easy to find in the Kval hills, though some have also been spotted in Clearfog Town.

There are also regular human fairies, or fae as most will call them. They were born only a few centuries ago, so their colonies are still small. Unlike season and monster fairies, the fae are rather shy and aggressive towards the Big Folk, and they tend to avoid them at all costs. Arguing that their founding mother had been a daughter of the Big Folk matters little, for she was no longer human by the time she grew fat with the first fae. Their father, Ink, had changed her with his magic, so she was no longer anything that could be named. Today, Ink is the only remaining one to know all that is to be known about the fae, and he forgets it all almost as soon as he remembers it; plus, he has so many, many children and faerlings roaming about. He couldn’t possibly keep up with them all.

[plasma-studios]

why can't we ever burn the right way?

@angstober Day 05: Dried and Cracked.

TW/CW: Hurt no comfort, physical hurt, emotional hurt, soul science (non-sexual), mind rewiring (when Nightmare eats the apple), injury, fire and ice imagery, coma(? or something like that). Fandom: UTMV/Undertale Word count: 1.5k

Summary:

Nightmare and Dream have peculiar souls, but it hardly matters. Then the Apple Incident happens, and ah. Nightmare's soul becomes a ghost of its former self and Dream's soul burns itself (and Dream) alive. Maybe it would be better if they just died. But that's the one thing they cannot do.

ao3: (x)

Nightmare had been thinking of dying souls for the past hour. Perhaps it was morbid. Perhaps it was mere curiosity. He had never seen a dying soul before. The sketch in the book had been his first time seeing anything like it. it had been grayed (his eyes flew to his own purple glow, faint beneath his clothes but unmistakably there) and shrivelled up. The folds resembled raisins quite a lot.

He felt guilty for that comparison for some reason, but it was true. The soul-skin was all shrivelled and dried up. It was what dying— not dead— souls looked like. What souls looked like before Falling Down.

Yet even in their prime, the soul in the book looked completely different compared to his own.

So Nightmare thought his soul was very strange. For one, it weighed. Souls were usually light and weightless, floaty and delicate. Instead, his soul weighed like a rock in his ribs.

For another, souls usually took the form of hearts. He’d read it in books. Yet his soul was, to put it bluntly, a ball of purple light. 

One final thing. Souls were usually warm with life. His soul was— well, perhaps not ice, but like cold water forever icy but not quite ice. Oh, and his soul was so quiet. His soulbeat was almost silent, and the pulsing light was easier to notice than the quiet, quiet thumps.

He pondered it till nightfall. Was it different for Dream?

Was it better for Dream?

-------

Dream thought the stars were beautiful. 

They always were, but perhaps less so tonight. The throbbing in his chest took away what beauty he could find in their glitter. 

A bead of sweat fell from his forehead to the grass. He swallowed thickly. The soul in his chest weighed against his ribs. His breath hitched as the warmth, no, fire in it pulsed for a second longer. The red-hot heat was left there, searing his ribs into rock and his breath into stone. 

The warmth faltered, and he let out a breath. The throbbing loosened ever so slightly and he released his fistful of grass.

Beside him, Nightmare’s soul pulsed in time with the quiet breaths.

Dream untensed and let out another breath. His soul thrummed soundlessly in his chest. The quiet thumps were relentless against the bone. 

He smiled. It felt like a crack. 

His soul went on thrumming, erratic and alive. The fire burned painlessly. Well, more painlessly than before. The fire tended to spike at odd moments. One moment he was counting the stars and the next he could hardly breathe with the weight in his chest searing the underside of his ribs. 

It was easy to ignore the fire in his chest in the daytime, where he couldn’t tell the warmth and the sunshine apart. It made it easier, though the fire never truly went out.

Which wasn’t all that bad, either. It kept him warm through the colder nights, and even simmered down it felt like love, liquidy and honeyed warmth in his stomach, like a roaring hearth.

Dream closed his eyes. He fell asleep with the soul in his chest thrumming like a tired butterfly fluttering its wings to flick off mud.

-------

The bite was tasteless. 

Nightmare couldn’t tell what was breath and what was the apple’s flesh; both were sinking into his tongue and then his teeth and then it was bitten through so easily—

The wind picked up around him. He could feel the bite as it went down, rigid and unyielding but a part of him. His other hand forced another bite from his mouth out of the apple and this time he recognised the welt of blood in his throat, mixing with the tasteless flesh and—

He couldn’t feel his soul.

Something cracked his face upon. A cruel sound bubbled up in his throat, waiting for the crack to shift and the chance to slip right out but his back hurt and then he was arched, something breaking his bones and shifting his ribs—

Why couldn’t he feel any pain?

The sun was out. 

His back was torn upon and the thing spilling out wasn’t his blood.

Why was—

“Nightmare?”

Dream was frozen. 

Nightmare wasn’t cold. Nightmare was nothing. He felt nothing. 

Except—

Why was the pain— 

(Dream.)

“Dream?” The word was choked out on croak. “You—” leave, don’t look back, something is wrong, I am not me—

Why was the pain different?

“Nightmare?”

Why did the pain feel good?

Why did the pain feel free?

The sun was out. 

It was noon and the sun was out.

“Nightmare!” 

Dream reached for him but he stilled midway, eyelights the size of pinpricks, a pained gasp escaping him—

(Dream.)

Nightmare reached forward,  hand touching his fingertips and agony (true agony, not the tasteless bite, not the tear in his back or bone) bloomed from the touch.

Why did his brother’s touch hurt?

Why did everything else— not?

He reached for his brother—

Something reached back.

He blinked and—

Who am I, right now?

-------

“Nightmare!” 

Dream fell to his knees. 

The waves wouldn’t stop, thrumming through the ground and gripping him through the air— 

Waves of negative energy, he realised vaguely. Nightmare.

Dream couldn’t move his legs. In the absence of sunlight his his soul was heating up, festering and hungry.

Dream was burning up.

He looked to the sky, throat parched and dry. Why was there an eclipse?

“Dream.” The voice came as crackling, as if dusting upon its words being spoken. 

Something in Dream made him stop struggling, stop breathing, it isn’t safe to stay leave leave—

That isn’t my brother. (Is it? Isn’t it?)

“Dream.” The wind slowed down around him. He was choking on his breath and his soul was burning him alive.

Dream looked up, and he didn’t recognise the person before him.

Oh, he thought dimly. Nightmare ate an apple.

Dream was accustomed to his soul burning up. 

He would not wake up for the next six hundred years.

This time, it burnt out.

-------

Dream’s soul was not shrivelled or dried. Dream’s soul wasn’t dead yet, it was still dying. 

It would never truly die. It had turned to stone, and stone has no life. It simply is.

Nightmare could destroy it, though. Break the stone into crumbling pieces of dust.

(Did he even want Dream to die?)

The world was different. The world felt warped. Pain felt sweet and hope tasted bitter. Guilt tasted honeyed and regret even sweeter. 

His blood ran free and his soul felt like nothing.

If he’d looked a little closer, he would’ve seen the slightest crack in the dim gold.

He looked up to the eclipse. He wasn’t smiling; it was as if he had forgotten how to.

In time, he would forget the cold too. He would not feel his soul for centuries. He would forget the still serenity of a quiet soulbeat. He would forget the languidness of his old soul. Nightmare was no longer himself.

But the soul would still weigh in his chest, like nothing at all.

He would summon his own soul later and see the dry soul-skin at the edges, as if starved of life and falling apart at the edges. 

And he would feel the sunkissed revolt in his throat.

-------

“Do you ever wonder what’d it be like without it?” Dream asked a lifetime ago.Nightmare paused, a finger hooked and ready for the page turn. “Without it?” 

“Our souls. As in, you know.” Dream yawned. “What if we had normal souls? Lighter souls, less ball and more heart-shaped.”

“Like,” His eyebrows scrunched up. “Weightless?”

“Maybe not that much,” He amended. “Just less heavy. Less hot. Less cold for you, too.”“Ah.” Nightmare hummed. “I wouldn’t mind that. If only just for curiosity’s sake.”

Dream nodded, “A soul. A normal soul. Just like everyone else’s.”

“Sounds different.”

“Sounds nice.”

“Eh. Maybe.” And he went back to his book, and that was the end of it, a lifetime ago.

-------

Dream woke up with dust in his mouth. 

The sun wasn’t shining, but the eclipse had long ended. It seemed there was simply no sun left to sun for him.

He felt nothing but hollow. His brother wasn’t here. How long had it been?

Perhaps it would be better if he was already dead. Dried soulskin, sunken soul, dimmed light. He already had a crack in his soul. It wouldn’t be difficult to split it wide upon, for a normal soul. 

But his soul was different. His soul wasn’t normal. His soul wasn’t mortal.

He didn’t know how to feel when the trickles of heat started up again, flowing through the gaps and veins somewhere in the golden mass of light. 

-------

Dream would meet Nightmare in another place, another time, and think, my brother died before me that day, didn’t he?

-------

Normal, no, mortal souls dry up and crack with even just age. Their souls were different. If put under pressure and still youthful, maybe they would shrivel up a little or crack here and there. But they would never perish. 

So Dream would have to keep on burning.

And Nightmare, Nightmare—

Nightmare was already dead. He was long dead, with his dry soul-skin and soul starved of life and falling apart at the edges. 

Not a single part of him was alive that wasn’t decaying.

-------

Dream learnt to burn silently, just like how Nightmare used to ponder silently under that tree. 

[charaofthedead]

READ THIS FOR MORE INFO

harmony: the combination of notes that form a chord or a chord progression (several notes that sound good one after the other, its like a scale) (durability)

timbre: the ability of a note to sound different in a different voice or instrument (potential)

melody: the blend of several notes stacked. aka, different notes sound at the same time (range)

rhythm: strong, repeated pattern of sounds or music. (Precision)

BPM: beats per minute (speed) soulbeats:[REDACTED]

(you may not use the idea of soulbeats without my PERMISSIOn)

(the music in this has melodies from jojos bizarre adventure part 3 and from a song called love love nightmare)

[lightyearssurrogatedaddy]

Uh ErrInk bc I was in a slight mood

The Anti-Void never made noise. It never hummed, it never stirred. Things echoed without walls, if one is quiet enough they could hear the thrumming beat of their soul, soothing like the sound of a fan late at night. Never terrifying to him, the sound of him breathing, shifting, just him and him alone out in such an expanse. No random, intruding sounds that came from living in an AU, no surprises. He controlled what he heard and what he didn't even without his headphones, he only needed such helpful items when someone else was nearby or when he was out and about. The endless clicking of his needles or off-thought rambling, sometimes saved videos on his phone or a portal to Undernovella.

He liked how simple that was. Absolute silence. All the time. He loved the beat of his own soul, repetitive and constant, never-changing. Just like every other sound he allowed in there. Most things that were too extra and assaulting to the ears were barred. But sometimes unexpected and changing sounds were welcome, because even they have a certain level of consistency he could follow and even lull to.

Some sounds, like the irregular tune of an aimless hum, were more soothing than a soulbeat. Distracted tune-deaf singer voicing colorful thoughts, swinging his feet back and forth underneath the in-the-works of a sweater. Small enough to lay comfortably over his companion's chest with very little crowding or irritation. Blanketed in gentle fabric that pulled and shifted as it was worked on.

Some sounds were welcome, they gave good hugs when they were needed.

[phantomstarss]

Umbra And The Gangs Relationship.

Just sorta wanted to ramble about Umbra and the gangs relationship with him. Idk if this will interest anyone but I thought I might as well post it.

Imma put a cut here because it's a little long.

HATI:

Even though the sheer… obsession has dimmed over the years, Hati is honestly still quite possessive over Umbra. Umbra is his God. Umbra is his Savior. Umbra is his father Boss. Umbra. is. his. Everything. And Hati doesn't give a single shit that Umbra only 'hired' him first because he was the simplest and easiest opinion. Hati was the first. Hati is his Second in Charge. And that's all that matters.

He values Umbra's life far more than his own. Random jackasses at The Market annoying Umbra? He'll tear them to shreds. Sol and his followers? Not even a second thought. The embodiment of Destruction himself? He'll do it in a soulbeat. Hati would throw himself in any danger if it meant keeping Umbra safe.

Though this doesn't mean he certainly doesn't have… fun with this on occasion. Throwing himself off rather high places to either A: prove a point or. B: for his own amusement. To see how long it takes Umbra to catch him, has become somewhat regular. 'oh? Boss has been doing paperwork all day and has ignored me? Time to yeet myself off one of the castle walls!'.

the rest of the boys were confident Hati was just straight up suicidal. Though Umbra was quick to ensure them this was just a thing Hati did for attention. At this point Umbra is very familiar with the taste of his AU's dirt, when he's just a little too late on the whole melding into shadows.

Umbra realized this to an extent when he first acquired Hati. Though he thought this was more because he left Hati to his own devices (after he could walk that is) in a giant pitch black castle, and the only real socialization he got was Umbra himself and the literal God of Death. for months, nearly a whole year. And maybe the rare visit to The Market once and a while.

Umbra only realized the sheer level of obsession Hati had with him when he brought Fenrir on the scene. He was expecting some backlash from it, he assumed they would probably fight, gripe, maybe even fully dislike each other at first. But never, in a million years, did Umbra expect that Hati would be outright jealous of Fenrir. And he certainly didn't think this was going to turn into bloody physical fights for affection. Or well, praise on Hati's side and fighting for his life for Fenrir.

Umbra, of course, gets rather frustrated with this behavior. He's weaned Hati off of this behavior, to a extent. Though he'll never be able to fully wean him off.

FENRIR:

The two have a very symbiotic relationship with each other. Dare I say a pack like relationship

Umbra provides food, Fenrir feeds everyone. Even though Umbra doesn't need to eat. Umbra protects him, Fenrir protects Umbra. Despite not needing any protection from a mere mortal. Umbra cleans him, Fenrir cleans Umbra. Though it never does much. Umbra comforts him, Fenrir comforts Umbra.

It's pretty common for the two to make cuddle piles.(that they usually drag the other's into). Be it because one - or both - of them is upset. Or one Umbra's light scoldings turns into cuddles. Or simply Fenrir looking for a snuggle partner, and the God is a perfect candidate.

Despite all this Fenrir never feels like he's enough for Umbra, or even the rest of the Gang. Umbra comes at any sigh of stress, no matter the day or time, perhaps before they even realize it. Umbra has battled God's for them. Umbra has taken them from their darkest moments and rebuilt them. Umbra takes care of the all, doing anything within reason for them. And what does Fenrir do? He makes sandwiches and fights Umbra's lesser half.

Umbra always says it's more than enough, Umbra lets him have pretty much everything he wants. Even to this day it still surprises Fenrir to an extent. Especially considering how he used to treat Umbra.

Biting, clawing, kicking, screaming, acting like a caged feral animal. Umbra used to not be able to leave Fenrir's room without a new hole in his shoulder or one of his tentacles. Yet he put up with it (mostly). Dealt with all the wounds. Dealt with all the outrageous accusations, every. Single. Accusation. In. The. Book. 90% of them made zero sense. Even Fenrir, in his confused state, knew it. But he still threw them, in any desperate attempt to get Umbra just to leave him alone. But he didn't. He stayed and helped Fenrir through his mental knot.

He owes countless things to Umbra. And he plans to make it back.

SKÓROS/WISP:

Why Him? Of all the creatures in the Multiverse, Why Him? Hati, Fenrir, hell even Xolo makes more sense than him.

Hati was the first. Seemingly perfect for this 'job'. Despite his clinginess and need for attention he was perfect. He listened without a second thought, he'd lay down his life for the God. He'd kill with a smile on his face, and be complacent if ordered otherwise.

Fenrir cooked, cleaned, provided where the others couldn't or simply refused. He protected those he knew and loved. Unlike Skóros who slaughtered mindlessly. Fenrir was large, he could hold his own in a fight even without magic or weapons.

Xolo was the cast away lover of Sol. A strong enemy and even stronger ally. He has strong magic, he knows basic medicine, he was in the royal guard. He. Knew. Things. He even started his own rebellion.

And Skóros himself? Absolutely. Nothing.

Yet Umbra still keeps him. Keeps him safe. Make sure he eats - and gets rather mad if he doesn't. Cleans him- Cares for him.

Skóros can't count the times he's just layed in Umbra's lap while said God rambles on about something. Just… having a casual conversation with him, even if it is mostly one sided.

Skóros can't count the times Umbra comes to his aid with Nightmares. Slowly coaxing out of those horrific memories.

Skóros can't count the times he's been praised over the smallest and strangest things.

Skóros can't count the times Umbra has put up with his childish outbursts. Physical or verbal.

Skóros can't count the times Umbra has healed him, be it from Sol, the others, or himself.

...

Skóros. Can. Count. The. Times. Umbra has smiled at him.

And it's too many.

He just doesn't understand.

XOLO:

Happy. Confused. But happy. Sol had painted a very specific picture in his head. And Umbra was nothing like that picture.

Or, well, mostly. Xolo expected the table throwing. Perhaps not throwing a table about 15 feet long, made of pure stone and slightly crystal, that probably weighed about 20 tons, being thrown halfway across a room the size of a football field, and hitting the wall and shattering like glass. But he did expect table throwing.

Xolo trusts Umbra to an extent he never thought he could. Umbra understood things, he doesn't blow up or sweep it under the rug like Sol would. He didn't have to walk on eggshells.. mostly. Talking about Sol or trees typically ended in future throwing or Umbra disappearing for a month.(leaving them to be babysat by Extinction who was a little too excited to play 'dad') but mostly harmless.

[megabrianhibbertuniverse]

Cool Soul.

Music for Film, TV, Radio and Online Media.

Website        http://otsm.co.uk/

Audition/Download  44.1kHz Wave       https://soundcloud.com/otsm/albums/

Show Reels  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1PrmouvkeJo

Info               https://news.prsformusic.com/1V6T-6JEA2-F8CDKXQF1A/cr.aspx