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angst-fairygodmother · 4 years ago

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“Are you planning to stay glued to my side this whole evening?” with diego alsooooo i love youuuuu

A/N: Thank you for choosing Fic Flash Pass (happy much-belated birthday). I would like to express through the following series of emojis how excited I am to finally write a fic for you: 😁💙💙🎉🎈😁 Word Count: 2517

Being close friends with Diego Hargreeves meant putting up with a lot of weird shit over the years. It meant late nights where he showed up injured or exhausted and needing your help. It meant occasional knives flying past your head when you startled him. It meant his paranoia and lectures about how it wasn’t safe to walk home alone at night, even though he had taken the time to teach you self-defense early on in your friendship. For a while it meant repeated “just for one night” instances of his strung-out brother sleeping on your couch (because he was refusing treatment, and even though he wouldn’t admit it Diego cared enough about him to want to make sure he’d be okay). And you put up with all of it, without complaint, because Diego was worth it.

You thought at this point that nothing he asked of you could surprise you anymore. And then he asked you to attend his sister’s wedding. Or really, practically begged you to be his date.

You were pulling a bullet out of his shoulder, lecturing him about how he was taking too many unnecessary risks, and if he was going to keep going after bad guys then he needed to start wearing better protective gear and he was damn lucky that his knife-harness was there to mitigate the wound.

“Allison’s getting married,” he blurted out, cutting you off before you could start in on the second, familiar branch of your lecture (that he should really be getting his wounds treated by someone with actual medical expertise, not just a little first aid training).

“Oh,” you said, not quite a question but also not quite not. You weren’t sure what he wanted you to do with that information.

“I have to go to the wedding,” he continued stiffly.

“That makes sense. She is your sister.” You raised an eyebrow. “You aren’t asking me to muck up this bullet removal so you have an excuse not to, are you?”

You were loath to admit that if that was indeed what he was asking, you might just do it. There wasn’t a lot you wouldn’t do if he asked, and after all this time you knew how to do it in a way that wouldn’t actually cause him worse harm.

“I can’t go alone!” His eyes were wide and frightened, as if attending Allison’s wedding was a fate less than death that he had been asked to undertake. You couldn’t help but laugh at the expression.

“I’m sure you can find a date, handsome guy like you. And Patch is still a friend, so she’d go. If only out of pity.” You smiled teasingly.

“Will you…” he mumbled. “W-w-will you go with me?”

Your breath caught in your throat. Part of you questioned if you heard him correctly. But if anything, his stutter made it more sure than less. He only stuttered when something was really emotional for him, when his mind was fighting itself. But you didn’t understand why (or maybe you did and just didn’t want to admit it).

“If you still want me to after the next five minutes,” you said, trying to calm your racing heart by collecting the supplies for the next part of his care. “Then I would be happy to go to your sister’s wedding with you, Diego. What else are friends for?”

“Why wouldn’t I--” his question was cut off with a shout of pain as you pressed a cloth soaked in antiseptic to the wound.

“Because of that,” you smirked, quickly cleaning the area and covering it over with gauze and binding.

The ballroom where the reception was held was beyond opulent: towering flower arrangements, crystal chandeliers and gleaming golden candelabras, and every spare inch draped in ivory silk. You could practically see yourself reflected in the polished surface of the floors.

“Wow,” you breathed. “Your sister really spared no expense…”

Diego shrugged uncomfortably. “Allison’s always been a little dramatic,” he mumbled.

“It’s pretty,” you turned to smile at him. “Anyway, you should go mingle and at least say hello to her. I’m going to find our table.”

Diego followed you as you wandered off into the dining portion of the reception hall. When you raised a questioning eyebrow, he mumbled something about it making sense for him to know where the table was too, so he didn’t have to hunt later. You shrugged.

After setting down your purse and shawl, you decided to mingle, maybe pick at a few of the hors d'oeuvres laid out on long, extravagant table displays. Once again, Diego trailed just behind you. You tried to ignore the oddity of the behavior as you picked up a shrimp puff and set it on one of the heavy little china plates. The fact that he wasn’t saying anything as he hovered annoyed you most of all.

After the third conversation that you tried to have with other guests that ended in an awkward glance over your shoulder at a glowering Diego and a hasty retreat with a half-assed excuse, you decided you’d had enough. He hadn’t gone to offer his congratulations to Allison and Patrick. He hadn’t so much as looked around for his other siblings or anyone else he might know. He hadn’t eaten anything. He just...followed you. It was very odd behavior and it was getting on your last nerve.

Setting your empty dish down heavily on an empty table space, not even caring whose it was, you turned to him, arms folded over your chest.

“Alright, that’s it,” you snapped, not caring who might overhear. “What is going on with you?”

He frowned, puzzled and tried to deny that there was anything going on.

“Oh, don’t give me that bullshit. You have been looming and lurking and following me around like a lost puppy since we got here. Are you planning to stay glued to my side this whole evening?”

His frown deepened, and he opened his mouth to speak, only to snap it shut again with an audible click.

“Because if you are, the least you can do is dance with me.” You held out a hand. “It is a wedding after all.”

Hesitantly, he took your hand and let you lead him out onto the dance floor. He pulled you close to him, one hand in yours and the other wrapped around his waist. You placed your free one on his shoulder, his suit jacket soft and warm beneath your palm. You felt your face heat under his gaze, now focused down on you and you tried not to let it faze you, focusing on a slight crease in his lapel as if that would let you escape it.

The two of you twirled across the floor, falling into easy step together, each surprised at the other’s dancing abilities.

You licked your lips nervously. Something about being here like this with him was making you think about things you had pushed aside (namely the crush on him that you had developed and decided early on in your friendship wasn’t worth the risk of losing him in your life, fearing that you could never compare to his detective) and you wanted it to stop. But at the same time, for a moment everything was perfect, and you didn’t want to ruin it.

“So…” you said eventually as the two of you slowed and the song changed. “Want to tell me what’s going on?”

His hand shifted slightly, tugging you a little closer to him, your face practically pressed to his chest, as the next song began. As you danced and he avoided answering your question, you decided to find the answer on your own. You knew him well enough.

There was a slight tremor in his hand which gripped yours a little tighter than necessary. His jaw is set tightly, twitching just enough for you to suspect he’s grinding his teeth together. His breath is a little short. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he was...afraid?

“Seriously, Diego, are you alright?” you murmured, trying to catch his eye.

He startled at the sound of your voice. “What?”

“You’re acting really strangely and you seem...upset. You haven’t spoken to your sister at all even though it’s her wedding.”

“I’m not upset. And I’ll talk to Allison later, she’s busy with all her other guests,” he argued, eyebrows knitting in a frown.

“You’re not upset? Okay, then explain to me why you’re holding my hand so tightly you’ll be getting a bill from my physical therapist on Monday.”

He dropped your hand like it had burned him and stuttered out an apology.

“Relax, it was a joke.” You frowned. “Let’s go out to the balcony. I feel like we both could use some air.”

Without waiting for an answer you grabbed his arm and dragged him in the direction of the double doors and the candle-lit, if slightly chilly, night. As soon as you passed out of the crowded room, you could feel the tension pour off of Diego and you breathed a sigh of relief. The pair of you moved to lean on the rail, shoulders just barely brushing.

“I...don’t belong here,” he sighed. “I’m just going to screw something up.”

“What are you talking about Diego?”

He shook his head. “Allison has this grand life. Big movie star L.A. life, and if I talk to her I’ll...what would we even talk about? We haven’t seen each other in years. I haven’t seen any of them in years.”

“That’s not true, you saw Klaus six months ago,” you joked, not sure how else to comfort him.

You knew what he was trying to say. He felt like Allison had moved on, and built a new life where her siblings were unwelcome, the invitation to her wedding a mere formality that for some reason all of them, save, thankfully, their father, had accepted. And on some level, you thought, he was probably right.

“Is that why you were nervous to ask me to be your date? Not that I’m a date-date, but I can imagine why having a real date would make things weirder and that’s really not the point, anyway...Because you don’t think you should have come at all?” you asked.

He shrugged.

“No,” you said, turning to face him and taking one of his hands in both of yours. “Please talk to me Diego. Maybe I can help?”

“How could you possibly help, Y/N?” he snapped, running his free hand through his short-cropped hair.

“I don’t know! You’ve got me playing damn guessing games when I came to this wedding where all I know is you and the junkie in the corner talking to the air,” you gestured back through the doors at Klaus who was doing exactly that, ��for you. Because I care about you, and I thought maybe you needed, maybe you wanted me here. So you tell me Diego. Or maybe I should just leave.”

“No!” his eyes widened at the threat. “Please don’t leave.”

You pressed your lips together, feeling tears well up in your eyes and praying that no one thought to glance outside to where the two of you were arguing. If there was a way to ruin a wedding it was the bride’s brother and his date having a screaming match. You had said your piece, so now you watched him expectantly, waiting for him.

He sighed deeply and turned away from you, eyes seeming to focus on a point off in the gardens below somewhere.

“I knew this whole thing was going to be uncomfortable,” he explained very slowly, and you instinctively reached over again to cover one of his hands with yours where it gripped the bannister tightly.

“But I thought it would be worse not to come at all.”

You nodded in understanding, leaning closer to hear him better over the wind and the din from inside.

“And everything’s easier when...with you So I thought...”

Your heart skipped a beat. In all the years of your friendship, he had never said anything like that before. You knew that you counted him among your best friends, and that he didn’t have very many friends in general, making you one of a rare and exclusive caliber, but to hear him come this close to admitting it was strange and new and oddly thrilling.

“But,” he glanced back at you before returning to his vigil, “you looked so beautiful tonight that,” he shook his head, “instead it reminded me of how incredible you are, and how it’s just one more thing for me to ruin.”

“Diego,” you frowned. “I don’t understand. What’s one more thing for you to ruin? My outfit? I would be pretty pissed if I was dressed like this and you pulled your usual superhero nonsense and bled all over me or something but I don’t think that’s going to be a problem here.”

“Don’t joke, Y/N. Not when I’m trying to be serious.”

“I’m not joking Diego. Okay maybe I am a bit, but only because I’m not following you. What don’t you want to ruin?”

“You!” he cried, throwing himself back around to face you. “I don’t want to ruin you!”

You resisted the urge to call attention to the innuendo there, especially since doing so would probably include admitting that you would not mind it a wink. Instead you bit your lip, thinking fast and trying to piece together what he was saying to you, about you.

“How could you possibly ruin me Diego?” you blurted out. “That doesn’t even make sense.”

“I’ve already started you know,” he mused softly. “You don’t even flinch anymore when I show up injured and need you to stitch a wound or dig out shrapnel or glass. You have such a good heart and care so much, I don’t want you to end up...like me.”

“There is nothing in the world that could get me to dress in leather and fight bad guys and get punched a lot. And the rest of you, I don’t see how it would be a bad thing to be like.”

He scoffed.

“I’m serious Diego. After all, you have the biggest, sweetest heart and soul in the city. Or you wouldn’t be out there every night saving people. It’s what I love most about you.”

Your hand came up to cup his jaw instinctively, marveling at the feel of his stubble against your palm and how perfectly fit it seemed to be to rest there. He looked beautiful in the dim lights, like an artist’s painting of a hero or a god. You breath caught in your throat as he leaned into your touch, his eyes fluttering shut.

“Y/N, I…” he reached blindly out for you, catching your other wrist in his hand, sliding down hesitantly to lace his fingers through yours.

“Diego, unless I’ve read the room completely wrong, there’s nothing more that needs to be said,” you chuckled. “So just shut up and kiss me, already?”

#don't think I forgot my promise for your birthday to jump your first request/a fic for you once we shared a fandom to the top of the queue #this ended up very Soft so I hope that's cool #😅#Diego Hargreeves x Reader #The Umbrella Academy fic #p.s. LOVE YOU TOO

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theadelaide-parade · 5 years ago

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so i saw @kelenia‘s wonderful cr taz au art and i blinked and i had written more than 4000 words of the mighty nein in the balance campaign, so...here’s that, i guess

read it on ao3

It starts in a tavern - or, no, really it starts when Caleb responds to an ad calling for adventurers, because it’s that decision that results in him sitting in this tavern with these people, and he’s already beginning to regret it.

The tiefling woman, who calls herself Jester, has more boundless enthusiasm than Caleb thought possible for a single person. On the other hand, Yasha is even quieter than Caleb himself. There is no reason the three of them should make anything resembling a good team, and yet -

No one expected the members of the Institute of Planar Research and Exploration to make friends with each other. It wasn’t necessary for the job, for one thing, but for another it just didn’t seem possible. Mollymauk was too loud, and Yasha was too quiet; Beau too stand-off-ish and Jester too friendly; Caleb and Nott too insular and Captain Fjord too ingratiating. You would be hard-pressed to find a more dissimilar group to send out on a long-term space mission together, but, well…

Watching your entire world be destroyed by black tentacles suddenly bursting from the sky had a way of bringing people together.

Jester wasn’t so sure about these companions of hers at first, but it turns out they work really well together! Okay, so they got a town kind of sort of blown up. It wasn’t for lack of trying, though! Even though Caleb sort of froze up mysteriously when they first saw the magic fire glove thingy, and even though Yasha barely spoke a word to anyone, and even though Jester kept getting distracted by the weird magic orb she found, she thought they did okay!

Anyway, that person - Bryce? - who they saved from the weird spider dude sure thought so. They were really quick to recommend them for a job, anyway. And the Director didn’t really hesitate, either. All that stuff about these super dangerous magic items seems pretty crazy to Jester, but hey, now she has a job! With pretty cool people, too. Bryce is really nice, and Mollymauk doesn’t say much but he knew super awesome card tricks. The Director is nice, too, but...when she thinks no one is looking, Jester thinks she seems kind of sad.

Caleb was the first of their number to die, in cycle 6. It wasn’t exactly a surprise - Caleb had always been a little too breakable for his own good - but that didn’t make it any easier. Jester’s journal pages were often tear-stained that year, Beau grew increasingly snappish, and Nott withdrew almost completely. As the restart drew closer, it felt like the whole ship was holding its breath.

Almost before Caleb had finished appearing on the deck, Nott’s hand was pulling out of his as she tackled him in a desperate embrace, Jester not far behind. Fjord, from his place at the wheel, just heaved a sigh of relief. Thank the gods - on top of everything else they had to deal with, at least they could count on death to not be too permanent.

Yasha still isn’t sure what to make of her team, but she’s growing fond of them despite herself - despite what happened the last time she let herself get fond of someone. Nonetheless, she often finds herself despairing of their capabilities as they try to solve the murder mystery on this train.

She cannot understate how strange these new friends of hers are. Jester has taken to calling herself “Not the Best Detective Agency,” which not only doesn’t inspire a great deal of confidence, but also doesn’t seem necessary since Jester is just one person, not exactly an agency. Yasha can usually count on Caleb to commiserate with her about Jester’s weirder moments - she’s still not totally convinced this “Traveler” is a real god, much less that proper worship requires painting dicks on every imaginable surface - but he’s been distracted by, of all things, a little halfling boy traveling alone. Certainly, Luc had given them some assistance, but Caleb couldn’t seem to deny the boy anything, and seemed as confused as anyone by this turn of events.

Still, they manage - with, okay, a LOT of help from Luc - to figure out the mystery, and return another Relic to the Director. And if Yasha feels a twinge of sorrow as Mollymauk wordlessly brings them their payment, beaming, for reasons she can’t begin to guess...well, she never claimed to be any less strange than her friends.

When Fjord appeared at Beau’s door one night, dripping with seawater - despite the fact that the current cycle was on a planet with no oceans to speak of - even the unflappable first mate was distinctly perturbed. When he described the strange dream he had - of looming eyes, booming voices, promises and threats - she channeled her disquiet into waking the rest of the crew for an immediate debrief.

Through some experimentation, they quickly discovered that both Fjord and Uk’otoa - as the entity apparently introduced itself - could initiate these conferences. They also discovered, to their horror, that Uk’otoa’s threats in Fjord’s dreams weren’t empty. Even though he came back in the new cycle, Jester was never quite the same after she found Fjord’s body in his bed, drowned overnight in his sleep.

Luc’s appearance as a new member of the Bureau of Balance doesn’t particularly surprise Caleb, but he gives a stern look at the Director when she makes the announcement, regardless. A boy that young has no business being employed by a shady organization, no matter how noble its purpose. After all, look what happened with...well. No need to bring up the past.

The Director, for her part, rolls her eyes in response. Caleb is not surprised by her informality. He thinks perhaps he should be, the Director is overall a very solemn woman, but something about her always seems to brighten when the Mighty Nein are around. (Look, he knows there are only three of them, it was never meant to be a serious suggestion.) Not just Jester, whose presence lights up any room she’s in, but Yasha too, and even Caleb.

Something about her gets heavier around them, too, like there is a weight on her shoulders. He knows better than to bring up either of those things to her, though.

He also knows better than to complain in front of Jester, who will tease him for weeks, even when their new mission gets them wrapped up in, of all things, a battle wagon race.

There was a year, amidst all of the frantic searching for the Light, the desperate flights from the Hunger, where things were...good, almost. The planet they ended up on was mostly beaches, and they found the Light barely a week into the year. Suddenly, they found themselves with time to just...relax.

Nott mostly stayed on the ship doing alchemical experiments - for fun, though, not for any mission-related purpose - and Caleb alternated between keeping her company and lounging on the beach, working his way through a backlog of unread novels. Beau spent much of her time meditating, taking advantage of the sounds of the sea to hone her craft, but took frequent breaks to assist Jester with various pranks. Molly and Yasha sought out what few flowers they could discover and wove them into extravagant crowns and necklaces. Fjord stuck to his duties at first, unwilling to shed his persona as the responsible Captain, but eventually let loose and invented a new ocean sport. That year, the eruption of dark tentacles from the sky was even more disheartening than usual.

No matter what Caleb says, Jester thinks that the mission in Goldcliff went pretty well. They got the Gaia Sash and didn’t destroy even a little bit of the town in the process! Okay, yeah, there was that weird thing at the end with the lady in the red robe who started yelling at them about being afraid and hungry and then blew up or something, but Jester definitely isn’t worried.

That isn’t the right reaction, apparently, because when they tell the Director about the Red Robe she freaks the fuck out and says that if they see the lady again they have to run right away. She’s also super bummed about the Captain, who it turns out was a friend of hers, and who she really didn’t expect to fall under the Gaia Sash’s thrall. But it works out okay for the Mighty Nein, because they get to be the only Reclaimers now, since everybody else keeps getting thralled. Just another reason why the Mighty Nein are the coolest!

Jester also isn’t worried about how her magic orb kind of seems to have a mind of its own. No, definitely, definitely not worried.

On cycle 100, they landed on a plane that was a lot like their home. Or, at least, like the plane they started in; they’d all spent more time on the Balleater than they ever did in the place they were born, and the ship and its crew had started to feel more like home than anywhere else.

Anyway, this world was a lot like theirs. It had elves and dwarves and humans and orcs, and magic a lot like theirs, and weather a lot like theirs. And they had a plan, they’d been working on it for a while, and they found the Light fairly quickly. So, they decided that this was as good a place as any to try to put down roots.

Of all their missions so far, this one might be Yasha’s least favorite. She doesn’t like the suits they have to wear to avoid the transmutation magic, and she doesn’t like the creepy singing crystals they keep running into, and she doesn’t like the pacifying tones of the servant of death who wants to arrest them for necromancy crimes. (He somehow manages to sound agreeable while listing their impossibly high death counts - if Yasha had died eight times, she’s pretty sure she would remember - and that is a mismatch of intention and demeanor that Yasha doesn’t trust one bit.)

Yasha also doesn’t like how easy it is to win this time. Yeza’s only punishment for messing with the laws of life and death (what was he thinking, the man is an alchemist) is having to send back the souls he summoned? All it takes to wipe clean the Mighty Nein’s slate is a game of chance? Death isn’t that easily pacified, Yasha knows very well. It isn’t fair that things should be so easy this time, when they never were before.

Still. If Caduceus can take her message to Zuala, wherever she is...maybe it wasn’t so bad, in the end.

They broke the Light into seven pieces. They hoped that in smaller chunks, whatever drew Uk’otoa to the Light - its craveability, as Jester dubbed it - might be diluted enough that Uk’otoa wouldn’t be able to find them. Each of them made a powerful artifact from one of the pieces.

(Yasha, with her troubled past, made the Temporal Chalice. Fjord, lover of the wild seas, crafted the Gaia Sash. Nott, alchemist extraordinaire, created the Philosopher’s Stone. Caleb’s talent with fire flowed through the Phoenix Fire Gauntlet. Jester made the Oculus to bring her wildest imaginings to life. Molly’s history with resurrection might or might not have influenced the Animus Bell. And Beau made a staff that even she, completely lacking in magical skill, could use to shield her friends from harm.)

And then they released the Relics into the world and hoped for the best.

Even while Caduceus was making his outrageous claims, Caleb was certain that he has not died dozens of times; his memory is perfect, he would remember that kind of thing. After the events in Refuge, he is even more certain, because dying is awful. He doesn’t think he could forget it if he had died before that terrible time loop.

That isn’t what has him hiding in his room like a coward, though. He’s overcome by the memories the Chalice had shown him, of his own terrible mistakes. The Academy, his time with Trent, his fall from grace - and that last memory, or rather, the earliest, that somehow gives him the most pause. He remembers flames, the screams of the dying. He remembers that he is to blame for their deaths, just as the Chalice showed him, but…

He doesn’t remember why.

This mystery wars for his attention with the guilt of turning down his chance to make everything right. He takes some small comfort in the fact that the dangerous artifact is destroyed now, and that Yasha and Jester made the same choice, but he doubts that they have made any mistakes so great as his. Even with these sudden holes in his memory, he has no difficulty believing that he burned those people - whoever they were - to their deaths at some point during his sordid history. But why doesn’t he remember?

Eventually, he’s torn from his melancholy by Luc knocking at his door. Of course, he remembers, it’s magic day; he’s agreed to teach the boy some of what he knows, and he’s glad to do so. They are meant to move on to mage hand, today, since Luc has picked up on message so quickly. He’ll just have to try and put this puzzle out of his mind for the time being.

As the months passed, and Uk’otoa never arrived, it became clear that the plan had worked. The problem with this world being so like their home plane, though, was that the people had the same corruption inside of them. The Relics’ craveability was too much to ignore, and in short order wars broke out. Each of Relics caused tremendous damage, and each member of the IPRE felt the guilt of creating them.

Caleb tried to stop a conflict over the Gauntlet, once, and made things much, much worse. None of them felt like trying to interfere after that.

Eventually, Beau proposed a new plan: if she put up a shield around this plane, using her Staff, Uk’otoa wouldn’t be able to get to them, even if they were eventually discovered. The Light would be safe forever. Molly argued against this plan immediately. The plane wouldn’t survive without its bonds, it would fall apart. Besides that, it wouldn’t do any good to the planes that Uk’otoa had already consumed. They needed to find a better solution.

They put it to a vote. It was unanimous against Beau’s plan. She admitted defeat, and put it aside. They could only watch as their Relics continued to destroy the world.

Jester is not freaking out. She isn’t. Jester is a-okay all the time, no problem, no worries. It’s just that...when she went to go visit the Voidfish - you know, like you do - it’s just. Her magic orb kind of seemed to...react to it? Like it wanted to say something, almost. And if that wasn’t weird enough, she figured out what the Voidfish’s song means. The Voidfish has a baby.

And, okay, if the Voidfish has a baby that means the Director has been keeping secrets. Like, way more secrets than even a Director of a super-secret organization should have. And from the Mighty Nein, of all people! Call Jester crazy, but she feels like she has a bond with the Director, and she thinks the Director feels it too. Like they should be best friends, not just boss and employee.

But none of Jester’s friends would keep secrets like this from her, she doesn’t think. Even though Yasha didn’t tell her about Zuala for ages, and even though Caleb still won’t tell her what the Chalice offered him...Okay. Maybe her friends would keep secrets like this from her. Still. Something is fishy. (Pun totally intended.)

It wasn’t all bad. Veth met a wonderful man named Yeza, and after a brief but passionate courtship they were married, and perfectly happy.

Except.

Except that the world was falling down around them, and Veth had never been one to sit idle while things went wrong, and so she went out into the world over and over again to try and minimize the damage their creations were causing. And one day, she didn’t return.

Caleb came out of his depression just enough to help Yeza search tirelessly for Veth. They found no trace of her.

Yasha takes back everything she said about the Crystal Kingdom debacle. Wonderland is, without question, the worst. Yasha herself has lost vitality, aged a decade in moments, and lost some future moment of glory, but it still feels like she has suffered the least.

What she hates is having to help Caleb struggle forward with so little health left. (He took a penalty rather than lose any memories, and another to try and avoid losing what little vitality he has; Yasha took that penalty for him, but that didn’t stop him from rolling body again. After such a loss, the first of his two successive skull rolls nearly killed him in a single hit.)

What she hates is watching Jester try to keep up a positive attitude after losing the only memory she had left of her mother, and most of her vision. (Jester lost her darkvision in the first round; in the third round she rolled brain again and couldn’t give up her memory of meeting the Traveler. Yasha wanted to take her penalty too, but Jester wouldn’t let her roll three times in the third round; when Jester rolled eye again and lost her left eye completely, the horrible demon twins just laughed and declared it bad luck. Yasha hates them most of all.)

It happened on a day like any other. Caleb and Yeza were planning their next avenue of investigation for Veth; Fjord was chatting with Jester and Molly at the helm; Yasha was looking for Beau to ask for a spar.

It hit them all at once; they began to forget what they were talking about, who they were talking to. Caleb found himself losing Veth’s name in the middle of a sentence about her. Molly found himself losing words all together, too invested in his friends and the mission to remember anything at all without them. Yasha found herself staring at Beau as the first mate fed the last few pages of Jester’s journal to the voidfish, and Beau caught her as she fell.

Caleb doesn’t know what to make of any of this. He doesn’t know what he was expecting when he cast true seeing on himself, but it certainly wasn’t to catch sight of the mysterious robed woman from Goldcliff. Even less expected was communicating with her in thieves’ cant - he doesn’t remember ever learning thieves’ cant, all of these gaps in his memory are getting more worrying - and deciding, despite himself, to trust her. It feels right.

He nearly dies (again) when the succubus expels him from his own body using his second skull roll. Jester pulls some kind of miracle through the Traveler to get him into a temporary mannequin body, but not before his original body is destroyed, and not before he has some kind of vision of a world with two suns that feels like...home. And then that robed woman is there again, asking them to trust her, and he wants to, and Jester does too, because apparently the Director has been hiding things, and with that it takes only a little convincing for Yasha to go along with it all.

As they destroy their stones of farspeech to the sound of Luc’s desperate questions, he can only hope they aren’t making a terrible mistake.

Beau placed them carefully. Mollymauk, poor Molly, she had to keep at her side. He was as friendly as ever, but he just wasn’t the same as before. Losing his memories did something to him; he wouldn’t make it alone. He’d have to stay with her.

Fjord, she was dismayed to discover, had vanished. Gone without a trace, just like Veth, and now there were two of their party Beau either had to search for, using precious resources, or give up on, and live with the guilt.

If Jester stops to think about anything that’s happening right now, she might just lose her mind, so she isn’t going to. She won’t think about how the Red Robe turned out to be Nott the Brave, who they met in Phandalin before it was destroyed. She won’t think about how the Director has been hiding another Voidfish, and how they have to find it without her catching them if they want to get back the memories they are, apparently, missing. She really won’t think about how that means breaking into the Director’s office.

She finds herself instead thinking about her weird magic orb. Something has kept her from thinking about it too much, too deeply, but she thinks maybe she should have tried harder. It’s starting to feel important.

The remaining three weren’t so tragic, not at first. Yasha, Beau found a community for, where her strength would be valued. She was overjoyed when she learned that Yasha had found a wife. She was devastated to discover that her friend’s love had been lost.

Jester ended up in a bustling city, residing in the care of a kindly performer. She thrived, for a time, finding new mischief constantly, and Beau delighted to check in on her. But one day, when Beau took a look, she found Jester confined to her home. Her mischief got out of hand, she went after the wrong person, and now she was in danger if she went outside. Beau maybe should have found a slightly less exciting home for Jester.

Caleb, she placed in a farming town that reminded her of the stories he told her of his birthplace. She expected him to thrive, and he did, for a while. Then he got caught up in some kind of wizard cult, and she didn’t notice until he’d gotten caught up in a mass murder. She could never find the evidence that Ikithon was the one really behind it, but Caleb certainly seemed convinced it was his own fault. New nightmares joined the flashbacks of events he couldn’t even remember, and Caleb’s life on the run got worse and worse, and Beau...couldn’t fix it. There wasn’t anything she could do but finish the mission as quickly as she could.

By some means that are beyond Yasha’s ability to fathom, Luc has gotten involved in this harebrained scheme, because he figured out that the Mighty Nein were up to something. Now she and Jester (with Nott secretly in tow) are breaking into their boss’s office on the intel of a mysterious lich woman who Caleb said they should trust, while Caleb and the kid are going to get him a new body that Luc thinks Pumat Sol might have for some reason.

It’s all a little beyond Yasha. But she wants to know the truth behind all of this, and if it takes breaking into a few offices to do it, she will. She’s very good at breaking things.

(Fjord is desperate. He’s been trapped in this gods-damned ball since Uk’otoa put him into it years ago, when he thought he died but didn’t, and he’s tried everything he can think of to get Jester to notice his presence. Nothing has been enough, and he’s terrified that his crew, his friends, his family, are about to go up against Uk’otoa without him, and there’s nothing he can do about it.)

(Veth didn’t mean to be gone for so long, she really didn’t. She barely meant to leave at all - she and Yeza had just gotten married, and life was finally really good for her. It was just - her Relic kept leaving a trail of destruction, and Caleb was so distraught about what had happened with the Gauntlet, and she just couldn’t stand it anymore. She had to do something.

She didn’t know that she’d run into that goblin tribe and get captured. She’d never have guessed that that witch would curse her and make her a lich, and make it impossible for her to get back to Yeza.

She definitely wouldn’t have risked it if she’d known she was pregnant.)

(Empty, empty, empty, empty - )

Caleb and Luc are racing through the halls after Caleb fended off those shadow creatures, knowing that something is happening, and whatever it is, the Director probably knows what it is. They burst into the office just in time to see Jester and Yasha down the Voidfish ichor, and the Director doesn’t arrive in time to keep Caleb and Luc from doing the same.

Memories flash through Caleb’s mind almost too fast for him to process. The Gauntlet - his Gauntlet - and the voyage, and Uk’otoa - the Director is watching in horror...no, Beauregard, Beau, why would she - ? And then he can’t think about any of that because he’s thinking about Veth, oh gods, how could he forget about Veth?

Jester is so busy dealing with all these new memories - Beau, Veth, Fjord, where’s Fjord? - that she barely notices her magic orb thud to the ground and begin to roll away. It rolls all the way over to Luc, and when he picks it up, it suddenly glows bright as a star.

I didn’t do that! Luc yells.

I know, Jester says, and she does, and she shatters the ball on the ground, and it explodes in light, and oh, there’s Fjord.

Through a blur of memories, Yasha watches her captain appear in an explosion of yellow. Then she watches Veth, released suddenly from the bag of holding, whirl towards Beau but freeze when she catches sight of Luc.

...Luc? It’s barely more than a whisper.

Luc squints, then his eyes widen and get very watery very quickly. Mama?

And then they’re holding each other and everyone else is wrapped up in that apparent reunion but Yasha only has eyes for Molly - Molly, Molly, Molly - wiping his mouth of the Voidfish ichor he drank during all the commotion. His eyes meet hers briefly, clear for the first time in years, and he winks before turning to the Director.

What the actual fuck, Beau?

Beau doesn’t know how it all fell apart so quickly. All of her plans, all of the sacrifices she’s made - she knows the rest of the group didn’t approve of her idea, but they were never good at seeing the big picture, that was her job - up in smoke. Uk’otoa is here, even though they split up the Light, and there’s no time, they either have to block this world off or run.

Beau wants to use her plan, of course. Fjord is all for running, and Caleb and Molly are quickly falling to his camp. Veth and Yasha don’t want to run, they have family and memories on this world, but they don’t think Beau’s plan will work either. It’s all starting to devolve into a screaming match when Jester softly says -

What if there’s a third option?

From there, everything happens very quickly. Fjord steers the ship, masterful at the wheel as he’s ever been, while Veth and Molly head to the surface to fight off the incursion there. Beau is preparing the shield - with the bit of magic she’s picked up over the years, because she had to learn this spell herself after she wiped the memory of every mage in her party. And the Mighty Nein (gods it’s a stupid name, even now that they’re applying it to all of them there’s still only seven of them, it’s exactly what she would have expected,) is going to fight. And...they’re going to win.

And they do.

#cr2 #critical role #taz balance #the adventure zone #fic #mine

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ceruleanvulpine · 6 years ago

Note

Commentary on the statement sequence from can’t live on prayers like these?

Gladly! (The story in question is here.)

The first thing about this statement is that it’s also about Jon and Martin. This probably is not necessary to point out, as I wasn’t very subtle, but that was my main goal in writing it: to tell a story with a similar enough dynamic that it would set both of them on edge, even if they didn’t explicitly think about it in those terms. (Elias picked the statement out. It’s not in the fic that he did this on purpose, but…) The second thing is that I absolutely do not know the rest of the story about Elise and her brother, or even what entity was involved; I didn’t want to write a whole horror story within this story, or I never would have finished it. I do feel bad for Caroline though. The third thing is that when I was almost finished with this fic, I broke my self-imposed catching-up hiatus and listened to Another Twist, and then got mad at Jonny for writing a much clearer parallel than I was. (I love Another Twist! I love it for reasons unrelated to Jon/Martin parallels, even. But at the time I was like… HEY…)

Some line by line notes under the cut:

> “Um, okay. Recorder’s on? Great. It’s been on this whole time. Wonderful.”

This is technically before the statement starts, but I want to point it out because I still think it’s funny, and also because I like Martin getting to be sarcastic.

> “I want to say something about Caroline was always weird, but that probably isn’t true — hindsight, right? No, to me she just seemed like your average severe female academic type, you know, short gray hair, very disciplined, dressed nicely enough in a don’t-notice-my-clothes way. No patience for people who didn’t take things seriously. I never saw her smiling, except when she was talking to Ben about their research. We got on fine at first, since I knew how much my brother wanted us to. But I started to hate that smile, because every time they made a breakthrough with their stupid theory something new would go wrong …”

So, writing in Magnus Archives statement style turned out to be very fun! I love how the actual statements mix casual speech with involved, weird as hell descriptions no one would ever say out loud, and it gave me liberty to fuck around. A+ do recommend.

Caroline is very much an archetype. Which I think actually sets her up as a character more effectively than Elise and Ben, who we don’t find much out about other than “suspicious” and “devoted” respectively. Scary Professional Woman With Secret Feelings is also … an archetype I am very weak to. Which might come through in the fact that she’s named after GLaDOS,

> He tries to look at nothing in particular, but his attention is drawn persistently towards Martin, and whether that is from some dread force or simple curiosity he doesn’t know.

Jon POV is also fun because when he’s not being drawn into things, he is still skeptical about what a weird life he’s having and thinks things like “some dread force” semi-sarcastically.

> “ … we used to tease him about having a crush on her, mostly because of how red he would turn whenever anyone —”

SORRY MARTIN. In hindsight I don’t know that this interruption is actually necessary — I think the idea was to break up the statement paragraphs and also emphasize how goddamn oblivious Jon is, but I don’t love it.

> “I think he really saw who she was and because of that he trusted her, more than she deserved. It doesn’t matter how clearly you see someone, if you won’t admit to yourself what you’re seeing…”

A thesis statement in the wild! It’s a little clumsy but I still like it. Martin knows Jon well and won’t let himself believe Jon is [unkind/beyond help/too fucking dumb to notice his huge crush]; Jon literally has supernatural seeing powers and yet does Not have a good grip on what Martin’s like or what he’s thinking at any given moment.

> He doesn’t know if she looked like this, or if he himself did, in the early days when he surfaced to Sasha or Martin’s interruptions. He can’t but think that if he had, someone would have made him stop.

Reading Statements Is Bad. I think probably Jon goes into a similar weird trance but doesn’t feel as drained and horrible afterwards.

> He doesn’t make Martin stop.

I love … implied self-recrimination. This is an acknowledgement of his own perceived selfishness even as he keeps doing it. It also leads into the next paragraph, wherein the prose starts to get weirder and more abstract as Jon stops being “a person sitting in a room listening to his coworker read a story” and starts being “the archivist listening to a statement” — it miIiight be too late for him to consciously make the choice to stop this?

> “Ben never would have shouted, of course, but he had this bitter, sulking tone in his voice that he always got if he couldn’t squash things down well enough to pretend he was okay with what was going on.” THIS IS A LINE ABOUT MARTIN THIS IS A LINE ABOUT MARTIN. Listen: I love Martin but he’s anxious and trapped and afraid and selfish and unpleasant to be around sometimes and I never want to write him solely as Soft Chill Dude. He gets to be (justifiably) short with Jon later, but he’s still expressing like .. futility, and giving up on communicating what he wanted to because What Was The Point Anyway, Everything Sucks And I Can’t Do Anything.

> Caroline didn’t sound sympathetic when she said, cold as anything, that he certainly couldn’t help her if he was dead.

I love this secondary character I made up, she’s terrible. She’s a little bit Gertrude, huh. I swear I did not do that on purpose.

> Jon watches Martin, but he doesn’t see him. He sees Elise and Ben and Caroline, standing in the kitchen and beholding something strange and new and fascinating. Caroline standing on the precipice of enlightenment and pressing on, needing to know no matter what sacrifice might be asked of her, not seeing that she might be made to sacrifice other than herself.

This is a little on the nose, literally using the word beholding and then describing a compulsion to keep digging for information. But needing to know is how Jon trips himself up at the end of the fic; he can’t accept a lie, and he doesn’t trust anything he doesn’t know everything about.

> The knowledge is an offering for Beholding, and he beholds it, and it is for him too.

> He is too far gone, here and not here, seeing and not seen.

I ended two paragraphs with this exact same sentence structure! What was I doing! I hate these sentences actually,

> If she doesn’t know what she did already, then me shouting at her wouldn’t help. I hope she knows. I hope she knows it’s her fault that Ben is gone, even if he volunteered. I hope she thinks about it every day, that she should have made him leave whether he wanted to or not. But she’s always been sure of herself. So I doubt it.

I know I said I didn’t know the rest of the story in this statement, but here’s a hint: Caroline sure does think about it!! She is not a happy person.

Returning to parallels, I realize that I added in this third narrator character to describe the action, and obviously she doesn’t match up directly to anyone; there is no one either telling Martin to get out or blaming Jon for letting him stay, except maybe, uh, Jon, who does a lot of telling himself he’s a monster.

But not a lot of letting that actually change his actions. At the end of the fic he concludes that his fear about doing this was right, and that Martin is horrified by him because of his increasing inhumanity; he totally fails to separate the statement reading — which is not good for Martin, and which the Elise-perspective on this would say is not something he should accept, but which was given willingly anyway — from the harm he does *in* freaking out and demanding information, which is a whole other problem, and which takes the dynamic from the statement in a different direction.

Whew, I feel sort of self-indulgent for typing all this up, so I hope you enjoy it! :)

#ceruleanrambling #ask meme #blue writes things

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frankpanioncube · 7 years ago

Text

Fic: It’s Something You Earn

My gift for @ thesweetpianowritingdownmylife for @undertalesecretsanta . We have HAPPY! Papyrus and Flowey spending time together as friends.

I have to admit I haven’t ever had to write Flowey when he wasn’t explicitly being a manipulative little git so I hope this is alright.

Without further ado: Life on the surface is pretty great. Papryus has it all: Friends, family, a bright future ahead of him with plenty of opportunities, but someone’s missing....and oddly enough he seems to be the only one who knows it. (Bonus points if you guess what show exactly Papyrus is paraphrasing.)

The clock on the wall ticked into the two-o’clock position as the bored-looking grad student proctoring the exam at the front of the room practically leapt to their feet, subtracting another fifteen minutes from the countdown on the room's whiteboard before settling back into their seat at the front of the room. Only forty-five minutes remained and around Papyrus similar sounds of indecision were forthcoming from the students who remained, mixed with the frantic sounds of the desperate.

Papyrus was in fact on his third check through of his work. He knew he needn't have worried; he'd performed exceptionally well on the midterm and the case study and by his math already had secured the necessary minimum grade point requirement to advance in the program...if he chose to pick this as his major. He'd also learned long ago from one Captain Undyne never to give anything less than his absolute best...but surely three double checks was enough.

Having reached a decision, he folded his test booklet closed and brought it to the proctor who copied his student number off his ID card and wished him a ‘Happy Holidays’ under their breath..

After that, the door to the building soon clicked shut behind him, and he was free! Done! Well, that was, until next semester.

Papyrus allowed himself a short whoop, ignoring the stares, but was quick to move on. He was eager to get back to the house. Sans would be coming down today and he hadn't seen his brother in months. He didn't mind stopping at the coffee kiosk as an afterthought. He did after all have nearly 45 minutes, and when had his brother been early to anywhere?

The younger of the skeleton brothers had come to love University life. The Underground had been a little short on anyone in his age bracket and once the initial excitement of being above ground had worn off, he felt at a bit of a loss as to what to do with himself. Not because his options were limited but because suddenly there was a massive surplus of potential. Apparently, lots of humans felt the same way and University or College was one of the things the ones that most closely matched his own age did about it. He hadn't picked a major yet, but apparently most humans in their first year didn't either...and boy had this been a lot easier to get into than the guard. And then there was the Fraternity. Who knew that all this time that he'd thought Sans was just being annoying, he was actually secretly training him for his new brotherhood and friend-making experience! Why, hazing had been an absolute breeze compared to the quagmire that was his brother’s slovenly ways...

Speaking of whom, he picked out two frosted cookies as a ‘good to see you again’ gift and rushed through the holiday niceties with the cashier. Papyrus might be an independent academically minded, grown bones University student now, but he missed his big brother. Besides that, he knew he had the latest final time of any of the brothers and David, their chapter president couldn't leave himself until everyone else was finished and off to their homes for the holiday.

Moments later, he burst through the doors of the Beta Gamma Epsilon house to some very familiar laughter.

"Sans?"

If Sans was at least early, he probably wanted to get going home.

Papyrus ducked into the common room, to be greeted by the sight of David and Sans laughing, and, judging by the surrounding bottles, possibly more than a little drunk (but par the course for a Frat house, despite Papyrus' best efforts to keep the infernal empties confined to a recycle bin. They were worse than Sans’ socks.).

His brother seemed to have a few more worry lines around his sockets and his clothes seemed wrinklier than normal, but Papyrus was overwhelmingly glad to see him again. It had been too long.

"SANS!" he barked, only half meaning the admonishment. "You're drunk...and I have to drive!"

"That's...not how it works bro." Sans informed him, but he was laughing too.

"Here, I have cookies." Papyrus offered his bounty and a massive hug to Sans who accepted both gifts happily before Papyrus went to collect his packed suitcase from his room.

"Okay here you go." David had followed him, presenting him with an envelope. "Last one. Luckiest brother in the house."

The skeleton barked a laugh. "Nyeh heh! I am indeed a lucky brother!”

"Nah, guy in the envelope."

"Well I do suppose I am ALSO the coolest person to have as a secret santa!” Papyrus hefted his bags and took a harder glance over at the human. “Are you okay to drive?”

"Huh? Oh I’m going to my girlfriend’s before I go home. I’m not driving. And yeah, all the guys have been going on about which one of them is going to get to have some cool monster shit."

"Oh..."

"Damn, was that insensitive?"

"Well, the language was a little blue I suppose.”

David chucked a bit. “You’re a good guy, Papyrus. Have a happy holiday, dude.”

The older student was true to his word apparently, locking up the Beta house and marching out of the parking lot with only a slight waver to his step. Papyrus watched him go diligently (he was a good brother of course!), then loaded his suitcase into his car and Sans packed himself into the passenger side.

They drove in silence for awhile. Papyrus was just beginning to wonder if he should say something when Sans broke the silence, apparently feeling similarly.

Ya ain't worried about your test are ya bro?"

"The great Papyrus has no need to worry!"

“New roomies good?"

"Yeah!" He liked his other the other two pledges who shared his living quarters. “Mark and Derek are worthy human roommates!” The latter of whom owned a fairly sizable action figure collection himself and had helped Papyrus to restore a few of the pieces he'd brought from his old home in Snowdin. “Well, ALL of the brothers are roommates you see! Although they are not brothers like you and I are, but brothers in SPIRIT!”

Apparently this was the correct response as Sans’ concerns slipped from Papyrus’ social life to more generic ‘older brother’ concerns

"What about your homework?"

"Brother, I am hardly a baby bones! I am already reading ahead for my next semester classes! I do not procrastinate like SOME skeletons!"

“Nothin’ wrong with a little procrastination.” Sans punctuated the remark with a stretch and raised a brow bone at the envelope. “That ain’t what I’m talkin’ about.”

"Oh That! It's a ‘Secret Santa'. It's a human thing. Everyone in the Fraternity gets someone's name who they have to buy a present for. Then we all have to try and guess who gave us what."

"Sounds right up your alley, bro. Bet you've got a real puzzle in mind."

"Naturally. I have to think of something excellent as my presents is required!”

“Good one, bro.”

“Only ten minutes with you and already I’m picking up on your bad pun habits.”

Papyrus stole a peek at Sans out of the corner of his eye who was presently leaning back in the seat, eye sockets closed. It seemed as though the pun deflection had worked the way he hoped it would.

Papyrus returned his eyes to the road, determined then and there that his little mission would remain a secret between he and himself. Papyrus knew it had been...less easy for Sans to adjust to life above ground. It was strange to think of his brother as the tightly wound, high strung one, but he finally started to be attempting to relax and Papyrus was not about to be the one to disturb that balance.

Everything surface-wise so far for Papyrus had been a joy to experience, but it felt odd. Like he alone was missing something...or more exactly; someone. It had become weirder still when it seemed he alone seemed to even notice. Papyrus knew his friends list wasn't exactly the biggest and longest in the underground, so he had never been dismissive of even the most distant acquaintances he did have. There was Sans and Undyne of course, and everyone knew them. There was the self-appointed President of his Fanclub, MK….and that right there was the thing. MK wasn't the president of his fanclub.

The present of his fanclub, or...the last president was...to put it frankly, missing. ...and no one seemed to know anything about him. He'd once in a fit of desperation even tried asking King Asgore who had only looked confused by the question and ended up bestowing on him about six tins of golden flower tea. It was as if Papyrus was the only person who knew Flowey existed

Sans; the other person who knew everyone (or at least everyone who liked hot dogs, bad jokes and/or grease) had simply looked troubled when he was asked and mentioned something about having an imaginary friend as a Babybones he'd named Gaster...and dropped the subject shortly after. Papyrus had predictably insisted Flowey wasn’t his imaginary friend. Still Sans had simply apologized for the insinuation. That was odd too; his brother would normally never miss a chance to give his brother a little bit of the business for something as immature as clinging to a childhood imaginary playmate.

It did however mark the last time he'd brought it up with other people, and he’d hoped to put it from his own mind now that he had studies and friends but somehow it kept creeping back in. In bed at night, During the lulls in conversation. In the middle of reading one of Sans’ or Frisk’s update e-mails about how life was at home. Now with an excuse to go to the Underground ready made, Papyrus had decided to personally put the issue to bed once and for all.

Whatever he was speculating he would find, there was little time to think about the plan further as the next few days flew by in a whirlwind of activity. Monsters were a bit behind on their Calendar due to the length of time spent in the Underground versus the actual advancements made in human understanding, and there had been a whole issue on when Gyftmas should be celebrated. The real thing by Monster Calendar fell mid-Hanukkah, but the traditions were evidently taken from Christmas. As it happened, Frisk had celebrated Hanukkah before they fell down, so Toriel had arranged for a gathering of course, the night Papyrus came home from school. It also worked out well for Sans’ Gyftmas present; a reservation for 'Christmas Day' at Grillby's newly instated surface version of his establishment.

He was a bit distracted that day by the time they got to the restaurant as inevitably the ‘plan’ as it was now officially titled in his mind and all that it entailed had crept into his thoughts once more. He wasn’t being deceitful, not really, but he wasn’t sure what the reaction would be if he did happen to casually mention it. As it happened, the person in the frat he was to buy a gift for was Brian, rather known for his legendary ability to drink someone under the table, not to mention being 'that one guy who would eat anything'. He was here, at a Monster Bar and he knew Grillby sold product that would go over well and fill the expectation to bring something ‘Monster-made’. He could just buy a small bottle of something or the other and forget the plan altogether. Being naturally honest by nature, it rankled with him that he felt he needed secrecy.

If he did that, it would be better for his brother’s SOUL.

And then he imagined Flowey, alone in the Underground, even though they were free, imagining Papyrus had forgotten him fore---.

"Hey, Bro...it’s your turn..."

With a gasp, Papyrus returned to reality, doing his best to refocus on the gift in front of him. Sans' gift too., no less.

"Uh, YES! THANK YOU BROTHER! I WAS JUST ...ADMIRING THE BEAUTIFUL WRAPPING JOB!"

Now THAT was a lie if there ever was one.

Fortunately, Toriel came to his rescue. "Oh that does remind me of when Asriel was small...I made him three whole boxes of his favourite cookies and knitted him a brand new jumper out of Spider silk. It really was darling, but of course, Asgore wound up eating the biscuits and those sharp little claws had pulled runs in the poor sweater by the next day." She chuckled, a touch sadly.

"Sounds a bit better than me." Grillby had finished clearing down and had joined the party, having kept the restaurant open for their group, which did after all did include his best mate and the Queen of all Monsters. "My Niece Fuku used to eat the boxes. And the tissue paper."

Sans snorted with absolute delight. "Eating trash. A Monster after my own SOUL."

Papyrus put a hand on the wrapping paper and tore it off enthusiastically, and the evening proceeded.

He didn't think about the Plan again until two days later when all the excitement had officially wound down and he’d made his calls and wrote his thank you letters. Midway through comparing present notes, he was once more reminded he still had one present left to obtain.

>>oh and a gift certificate from Alphys and Undyne to a cosplay armour maker they found at a con they went to. They're going to make me a new Battle Body."

>>cool. Yeah dude, I'm going to bed. I'm super bombed right now. My Dad made Eggnog and it kinda makes the Betas look tame."

Papyrus bade his friend goodbye and flopped back on his bed. And that was that. Decisions made. Tomorrow...was the day.

He slept better than he thought he might.

As it happened, his excuse-which-wasn't -really-a-lie got out smoother than he thought it would.

"SANS?"

"Sup Bro?"

“I AM HEADING OUT TO PROCURE MY SECRET SANTA GIFT!"

"Have a good time." Sans called back from the kitchen.

"Bundle up warmly dear." It is rather cold outside."

It eased Papyrus' nerves to know that Toriel was around to distract his brother. For her sake he added another scarf; the new one he'd received for Christmas and took his gloves with the peel-off mitten tops too.

He parked his car in the lot of a nearby grocery store that didn't have a time limit on how long people could spend in the space and walked to the chain coffee store at the end of the block. . Someone, he couldn't remember who, had given him a gift card for the place, which didn't have a shop on Campus. He treated himself to something with god knew how much unhealthy sugar and snapped a few photos of the monstrosity before he gathered his reserves of determination and began the true journey.

The nice, merchandise stores changed into gas stations and fast food joints, then into garages and the odd warehouse and then there was yet-untamed forest area that allowed him to know he was getting close. He finally spotted the turn he was after and veered off to the path they'd taken down the mountain A glance at his phone told him he was out of range of any human networks but a few steps later he had gotten onto what remained of the Undernet.

Some monsters still lived underground, like Gerson and those too old and unable or unwilling to make the journey.

He resolved to stay out of their way though. Undyne often visited the old turtle and something still niggled at him about this mission being ‘exposed’.

He consulted his clock. Even with his stopover at the coffee place, he'd made good time. He wouldn't risk the River Person.

Once Hotland had been cleared, it was much smoother sailing. He passed the dump, remembering when he and Sans used to come there for his Gyftmas gifts. He also picked some crab apples. In Snowdin he pottered around the old house, marvelling at the smell that had seeped in without anyone to clean it and let himself out (without discovering the long-molded spaghetti still in the fridge). He did however unstring the fairy lights from around the windows., winding them into a neat coil. Brian would appreciate the decorations for his room.

He hemmed about it for a while and finally let himself into Grillby's picking over the liquor that had been left. He selected one that was full and as an afterthought stuck some money under the register. He could make sure the bartender knew about it later. After this was over.

Monster alcohol, monster food and a special decoration from his own home. Satisfied with the present, he sorted his finds into his inventory and sat himself down on the step of the old pub, leaning his chin in his glove with a quiet Nyeh.

He had been so sure that he would have attracted the attention of his old friend...that the flower would have followed him and popped up to scare him as he had the habit of doing, so many times during his youth.

There'd been no flash of gold in his periphery however though he'd spun to surprise CHECK many a time.

He pulled out his phone again.

Still...Papyrus was never one to do things halfway. He might be late to supper but...yet...

He moved deeper. Past Snowdin, into the forest...over the bridge and sparing a laugh at his embarrassing attempt at a 'gate'. Why, he'd taken Engineering 102 and he could build a gate twice as good.

He felt a little better for his self-congratulatory inner monologue and perhaps it was this that had given him the strength to march deeper into the ruins.

This was uncharted territory. His brother as he now knew had only knocked on the door and had been eager to leave without a backwards glance. Papyrus had never questioned that desire, nor thought about it.

It was peaceful there, at least and the puzzles were interesting, to be sure.

He found a mostly depleted bowl of Monster candy somewhere along the way and added a piece to his present for Brian, but was starting to grow somewhat hopeless about the status of the rest of his mission.

The doubts from earlier sprang to his mind., the odd conversations with Asgore, the reactions of Sans. He knew Sans didn't tell him everything, but perhaps it was true that there was nothing to his behaviour after all.

Had he dreamed Flowey? It was...after all a childish name...They'd been 'presidents of eachothers fanclubs’, when Papyrus had no friends.

He was the Great Papyrus, and so must his imagination be very Great....but he was so...real.

"Ah?"

"Hello?"

Papyrus found himself talking to...a patch of flowers, but just now had sure he'd seen white fur there too. The annoying Dog?

That might not surprise him; the puffball had followed them up to the surface and had become quite comfortable under Sans' care...it had only shown up twice at his Frat House, so he knew his brother was putting in effort.

He was this time however seeing things. The flowers were devoid of anything white...and what was more, this was it seemed, the end of his fruitless hunt, as there was a dead end and the hole through which Frisk had fallen down, just directly above him, bleeding in winter sun.

The Skeleton's shoulders slumped in spite of himself.

"Howdy."

Papyrus's eyes lit up. There was no mistaking that voice. He hadn't been crazy!

Taking sudden note of where he was standing, Papyrus skipped back off the edges of the flower patch.

Sure enough, the little flower monster (Something in the back of Papyrus' mind told him that was wrong, that Flowey wasn't a monster...but then, what else would he be?) popped his head up through the blossoms, a full ‘head’ above the other flowers.

"Well well, the Great Papyrus is back to deign to pay little old me a visit..."

Papyrus knew Flowey well enough by now to ignore the edge to the flower's voice.

"Of course I did! I have been hoping to see my best friend for ages now!” Papyrus insiste sincerely.

"Ugh, you're so nice."

The initial shock and delight having passed, Papyrus couldn't keep back the wave of confusion and hurt nor quite keep it out of his voice. "Why...why didn't you come to the surface? With all of us! You ....you could have stayed with us. Me and Sans...Or...Or Frisk. I know you were their friend too!"

For a brief second, Papyrus thought he saw something like sorrow flash across the flower's visage, before it was replaced by something else much nastier. "Because I just Love it down here sooo much Papyrus."

"Oh well then, I'll leave you to it, and you won't mind if I take a walk. It's a long trek back to the surface."

Flowey had been this way ever since the skeleton knew him. Sometimes the flower would say things that even Sans, an accomplished Physicist would have struggled to come up with, other times, he would be no more or less childish than the Snowdin kids who called HIM weird.

Predictably, Flowey shot down into the earth, just long enough for Papyrus to decide maybe he had decided to go sulk after all, only to re-materialize right under his boot.

"Nyeh!" Papyrus was still Papyrus and though it was a narrow thing, his reflexes were still in good enough condition that he balanced back to avoid crushing his friend.

"Why must you always do that?" he admonished Flowey. "One of these days I will crush you into dust by accident!"

Flowey only giggled. "You must really hate me Papyrus, thinking to step on me with such LOVE that you'd dust me!"

"That's not what I meant!" Now Papyrus couldn't help but be offended by the insinuation.

"Oh, alright alright, don't cry." the flower groused.

Papyrus hadn't been (really), but he brushed imaginary tears - it was most definitely just the falling snow!) from his eye sockets anyway.

"Come on, Climb up me!" the Skeleton insisted, holding out his arm for the flower. "We cannot carry on a proper conversation as friends if you keep tunnelling underground like that."

Papyrus extended his arm and after a moment's deliberation, Flowey deigned to climb up., the flower's surprisingly extensive root system anchoring him to sit comfortably astride Papyrus' shoulder as the Skeleton's long strides took them swiftly back through the ruins.

"You might enjoy it you know." If you gave it a try."

"Gave what a try?"

"The surface of course." Papyrus repeated, knowing full well the flower knew exactly what he'd meant.

"I don't trust anything that walks on two legs."

Papyrus imperceptibly shook his head. It was classic Flowey, that much was a fact, but even he could tell that the jibes and jabs were falling a little flatter, that the old spark had been replaced by something that if the skeleton didn't know any better, he would have called resignation. As such, he responded in kind, merely inclining his head towards his passenger. "I walk on two legs." he reminded Flowey mildly.

A beat of silence reigned before a hint of the old spark came back into Flowey's face. "Yeah, but you're really bad at it!"

In a split second, a vine which had unfurled unnoticed behind Papyrus, bound his ankles loosely together and sent him tripping forward and frighteningly close to the edge of the bridge. The skeleton's hand shot forward instinctively, grasping to catch hold of the bar, but - in a flash of further regret for his woefully terrible engineering skills from his formative years, the support was too far away. His fingertips barely grazed it and the duo plummeted arse over teakettle down the steep slope, with Flowey clinging to his Papyrus-shaped toboggan.

The drop wasn't that far but the incline was steep and Papyrus immediately lifted his head out of the snow bank he'd ploughed face-first into to knock the grit and snow from his eye sockets.

The flower slithered off onto the snowbank to look down at him.

"Golly Papyrus, are you alright?"

"I..." and Papyrus cut himself off as he noticed the extent of the damage. Far from dusting, the impromptu spill down the hill had nevertheless twisted Papyrus' foot and ankle from it's socket.

"Oh...I'll never be able to climb back up like this..."

"Look at the bright side, pal." Flowey knotted his vines in a very good approximation of a nonchalant human shrug. "Now you can stay down here with me!"

Papyrus struggled himself into a sitting position, the injured leg stretched out in front of him. and gazed up into the grey haze of Snowdin's endless fall of magical snow. That grey would turn to navy soon, a sign that dusk was coming in the world above. He wondered how long it would take for Sans to panic over his lack of checking in. What would happen when the store he'd parked down shut its doors for the night and his car was still parked there. Would some random night security guard take down his licence plate call his house? Would it be a tow company?

Would they figure it out that he'd gone to the Underground right away or would it take them days to come to that conclusion?

He fixed the flower with his steeliest gaze. "You kow my faamily's going to come looking fo r me."

"Of course they are."

Papyrus opened his mouth to protest that he had lots of friends now, dozens even. Dozens of dozens. More than Flowey...and it dawned on him that was, well...the whole issue. The crux of the problem. The missing piece of the puzzle.

"I can't fix you." the Flower sulked, looking at him askance like he was daring Papyrus to blame him outright.

"No?" Papyrus refused to take the bait and adjusted the way he’d propped himself against the side of the rock wall. "This isn't really going to change anything. Sans or someone will come for me...and I'll have to explain what I was doing down here."

"I..."

"Looking for a present to bring back to my assigned person for the gift exchange." Papyrus cut the flower off, freezing the onset of his scariest smile right off his face.

The manic fang-filled nightmare grin melted into something that Papyrus swore was familiar but somehow also could not remember seeing on the Flower's face at any point. "You wouldn't tell them...about me?"

"No. I wouldn't." Papyrus said simply.

"Hee Hee, you're almost predictable Papyrus." That translated in Flowey speak to 'Thank you, I appreciate it.”

Papyrus responded in kind."You're welcome."

"So what kind of crap did you get the humans anyway?"

Papyrus produced his inventory. Predictably the flower ignored the liquor with only a passing glance, but seemed intrigued by the choice of fairy lights "What are the lights for? It’s after Gyftmas, even I know that."

"I thought they could put them up in their room."

"Humans do that? Indoors?"

"Yeah Lots of them do that for decoration."

"Golly, that is cool!" You should have gotten something better than crab apples though, blegh."

"I got monster candy...and apples are at least a healthy snack!" Papyrus protested. "You and my brother both! There's nothing wrong with healthy food!"

"DON'T compare me to your brother! Flowey screeched, but his outrage was genuinely false this time and the two of them fell about laughing a little bit.

"Just for that, I won't fix you."

Before Papyrus could react even the slightest; the flower's magic flared to life, the world melting away to the specific concentrated blackness and focus of an encounter. A dozen thoughts occured to Papyrus at once: to Check, to increase his defense, and even to attack, but instead he focused on Flowey who apparently was not giving him a chance for any of it. The wave of green magic was knitting his bones together before he knew it, and the snow and and magically replicated overcast atmosphere of Snowdin was shimmering back in.

Papyrus flexed his foot experimentally, finding to his delight that the action caused him no more than the briefest of clicks as the magic that bound him finished knotting itself together.

"Thank you." he hefted himself to his feet, with relief, wondering not for the first time how Sans did it; sitting around like that all the time and doubly glad that the snow in question was mostly magic, or his trousers would have been feeling a lot more unpleasant...but it still left them at the bottom of a ravine.

"Well come on, let's see if becoming a school book nerd hasn't made you go soft."

Flowey's thick roots shot upwards and again, Papyrus found himself having little trouble questioning his innate knowledge that the vines would support him easily, despite being sure he had no frame of reference...maybe. Possibly.

"The Great Papyrus would never let something like books get in the way of his training!"

He used the wide, flat thorns and coils as foot holds to slowly but surely, hand over hand make his way back to the top..

It was hard work and by the time he finally managed to heft his arm over the foot path of the bridge, he was heaving with exhaustion. He leaned against the strut to catch his breath, and busied himself as Flowey wound himself cobra-like up the same path, the long vines shrinking as though they'd never been and he was nothing more than a facsimile of a golden flower once more.

They were silent a moment.

"It's not going to go back to the way it was." The flower intoned at length, his usual bobbing slowing to an introspective sort of sway.

Papyrus privately agreed.. He had checked his friend and that was something he knew he wouldn't unsee.

"No..." he began.

Something seemed to resolve in Flowey and it sparked something in Papyrus as well. He got the drop on Flowey this time, opening his mouth and speaking before he overthought it too much.

“You know...there are many humans that say you aren’t born with a soul. You earn one through facing adversity and overcoming obstacles and the decisions you make in your life. Kind of like you, just now.”

“Did you hear that from your human school?” the flower scoffed, though from the lack of follow up disparaging comments Papyrus knew he was both considering the statement and not angry with Papyrus for acknowledging the situation.

“Actually I got that from a human television show. But yes, it’s taught. It’s called ‘philosophy’”

“Even though they must know now that souls are real?”

“...Yes. I think it’s like LOVE and love.”

Flowey was silent another beat. “If I don’t want to come back to the surface...ever, will you still come to visit me?”

“Of course! We’re friends. Best friends.”

“Even after…’

“Pushing me off a bridge?”

“Y...yeah. Pushing you off a bridge.”

“Or any of the other stuff.”

Flowey’s expression shifted briefly to one of shock before he recovered himself and started to laugh. “Papyrus, that’s why I like you!”

“Maybe you can give some pointers to the new President of my fanclub.”

“That los--”

Papyrus looked at him.

“He’s probably doing a great job.”

“Yeah.”

***

Two Years Later:

"BROOOO!"

Papyrus looked up from the project he was working on grateful for the distraction. His nasal bone had been inches away from his drafting table and the proximity to the table wasn't exactly helping him work out the kinks in the design.

"COME ON! TWO DOLLAR SHOTS NIGHT! PLEDGES ARE BUYINNNNNG!”

"Yeah! yeah! Take a break at least!"

Papyrus still wasn't exactly known for being the booziest guy in the house or the biggest advocate of the party time, but the idea of stepping away from this work for awhile was a very tempting offer.

"Um...Go ahead." he told the brothers. "I will be sure to grace you with my GLORIOUS presence shortly!"

In spite of his resolve to try to focus on his work for another hour yet, the Skeleton found himself putting away his books and rolling up his blueprints. almost immediately after he heard the large group 's multitude of voices muffled by the door shutting behind them. He made no move to run after them, drumming his fingers on the tabletop in an uncharacteristic display of stagnation.

"Hmph. I can see these lazy human slackers have rubbed off on you. Sitting here staring into space."

The burst of intuition that had him eager to push off the outing suddenly made sense, and Papyrus picked up on the usual banter without missing a beat as easily as if they spent everyday together. "I WAS MOST CERTAINLY NOT BOONDOGGLING!" he screeched in mock anger, stomping his foot...to give him a leveraging anchor to heft the immensely heavy old bedroom window up far enough to allow his friend access. As a third year he' was now eligible for a single private room in the house, but it hardly mattered now as the housemates were long on their way to their campus event by now and those that had not gone probably assumed he was chatting with Undyne again. The flower was contained to his windowsill fern it seemed with no magic soil to move in, but Papyrus had offered his arm as he had in the Underground years ago.

The vines coiled around him and the Skeleton felt something. Something more than determination, a small thing that was not quite magic, and more like a shadow than anything but still tangible and barely there but like a candle guttering doggedly away with the urge to grow stronger.

It was what had brought Papyrus back to see Flowey that first Gyftmas above ground and what had brought him back after that...and finally what had brought him above ground for the first time tonight.

And that was enough.

#@undertalesecretsanta #@thesweetpianowritingdownmylife #undertale secret santa fic #frank tries to write #papyrus #flowey #true pacifist ending spoilers #sans grillby toriel frisk mentioned #off-handed mentions of parties and drinking

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hereticaloracles · 8 years ago

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Solar Eclipse in Pisces- The Messiah Complex

And it will be in the last days, says God, that I will pour out My Spirit on all humanity; then your sons and your daughters will prophesy, your young men will see visions, and your old men will dream dreams.” – The Bible, Acts 2:17

Effective Date: February 26, 2017

Helios’ Astrological Angle on the Solar Eclipse in Pisces– Well, here we go again… Another eclipse! This one is in Pisces, and is about to make the last one look like a walk in the park. Leo is drama, but Pisces is epic. This eclipse will drown us if we let it- Or you could step up to the challenge and deliver an Oscar-worthy performance, now that you are coming from a raw and vulnerable place. Use the emotion that this eclipse gives you, channel it- Let it elevate you, not drag you down under. When it comes to Pisces though, there is only one way to win- through surrender.

Artemis’ Tarot Take on the Solar Eclipse in Pisces- ��Welcome to being stuck between a rock and a hard place – aka sandwiched between two Eclipses. This is a slow, anxiety filled simmer, my friends, and the only way we can see ourselves out of this situation is to build a bomb shelter. Fuck, this is a difficult one, Heretics, no matter how I cut it for you. This is the judgement of God type of shit, and either you receive grace or you drown in this baptism. There really is no way out, that is for sure. This Eclipse is happening opposite the true node in Virgo, meaning we are being sucked into a fucking black hole. Put your space suits on, Heretics, because we are entering a strange new world and things are just going to keep getting weirder from here…

The Sun & Moon, Venus and Neptune– This whole eclipse feels ungrounded, like it is not actually taking place in this reality, but some nightmare parallel world that we somehow find ourselves in. Yet, even though it may not take place in THIS reality, it still affects us deeply. There is a major sense of loss to this eclipse, as though some crucial part of ourselves has vanished; but we still feel it, like a phantom limb that still aches. During this eclipse you will find that many old things that you once thought done and buried will be rising up to plague you once more. Deals finished, debts paid, and lovers long lost- all could return now. Pisces is the great catch-all sign: Everything ends up there sooner or later. It’s the sewer of the zodiac. In fact, looking at the asteroids, it very much seems like the emphasis will be love (then again, what isn’t, this year?). The cosmos are about to give you that love your heart has been begging for, sobbing at the moon at three in the morning doing arcane blood rituals just to try to get him to notice you while you stalk his dating profiles that he may or may not have blocked you on because you were being a crazy hoe. There is a catch though- This is all a very monkey’s paw sort of situation, and every wish granted comes with a price. This love will be toxic to you. You will understand that this is not the love you truly need, one way or another. Nothing about it will work, BUT you will be given the chance that you are begging for. You will get the opportunity to prove the universe wrong, and I wish you the best of luck in doing so. No matter how this shakes out, you will gain tremendous wisdom from this time.

Not only will you gain wisdom, but you will also gain perspective. You see, there is a part of you that still thinks it is your mission to save the world, on your own. More than that, you still think you have to sacrifice yourself to do so! This is not the way it has to be. You are just looking for a good excuse to take the easy way out. Stop. Now is the time where you step up and start taking responsibility for your life, taking ownership for the moments you have yet to live. This is your life, and you should know better than to sell it so cheaply. Now, I say all of that because this eclipse will be a siren’s song to that part of you- You will feel as though you are being called once again, like it was pre-2012. You will be inspired, and find a many others have been as well. You will feel as though you have a duty to DO something with this insight, but will be clueless as to what that is. You see, the insights come when we are still, present in ourselves, and open to the truth within our souls- After they come we try to share them, with the best of intentions, but then all of a sudden someone is starting up a new round of Crusades. Focus on your own life. Find the truth within yourself. The great coming together of 2012 was wrong in that it tried to be a physical meeting- in 2017 it must be a meeting of souls. (Minor Planets used: Hylonome, Orcus, Amor, Apophis, Pandora, Chariklo, Circe, Terpsichore, Heracles, Teharonhiawako, Asbolus)

Sun (Judgement), Moon (The Hierophant), Venus (9 of Wands), Neptune (7 of Cups)- Well, fuck. I pull the damn Judgement card followed by the Hierophant for the eclipse itself and “Bloody Mary” by Gaga begins playing on my radio. Let us not dismiss this Spotify Divination! This is definitely a spiritually flavored Eclipse, and how could it not be? It is in fucking PISCES, the sign of Jesus himself. And like Jesus, we are all being crucified by something or other right now, and the weight seems to be completely and utterly unbearable. How in the world did Jesus endure through all of that suffering? He gave himself up to a higher power, that’s how. Now, wait a minute before your mind starts attacking this concept! This is kinda like Alcoholics Anonymous (appropriate for a Pisces post), because I know a lot of us are going toward mind numbing activities just to get through these transits right now. In order to fight forces stronger than yourself, you must merge into something larger than yourself. Like the Zords in Power Rangers. Or The Backstreet Boys. People who otherwise could not power through on their own join together to become a swarm, protecting the whole’s purpose. And we must help each other, because this truly is like a black hole we are sinking into. Take a peak at what you need to see, like a black scrying mirror, but don’t stare too long! For the abyss will stare back at you, and you will be forever mesmerized into it’s depths.

Each of us is a Hierophant, an heir to a tradition, and that is coming to the surface more than ever right now. Remember 6 months ago – that last fucking Pisces Eclipse that essentially rocked our world – well here is the culmination of that tidal wave. What is it that your ancestors have passed down in your bloodline for you to accomplish? What is your “super power,” so to speak? We are taking a look back (this Eclipse is opposite the North Node), back, back I say! Back to the past so that we can see exactly what it is that we are meant to do – meant to be – meant to see. A trip through the past is rather violent, though, and especially ridden with depression and anxiety. Here there be dragons, and here there be the monsters of your past which you must confront once again. We have the power to heal ourselves of our past misery, but accept it as a necessary part of our merger with the divine. Pain leads to elation, but first we must uncork this bottle.

Remember, Heretics, this is Star Year and we are going to follow this muthafucka out of this forest, no matter what monsters we run into on the way. The trees may be getting thicker, and we may have some cloudy nights, but that star will emerge again. You must have faith this year, and as I announced at the start of the year, your faith will be tested over and over again. Do you trust those you are intimate with? Do you trust your government? Do you trust the masses? Do you trust yourself? All the things you hold dear are being attacked (9 of Wands), but these fights are what is going to make you transcend. These trials are like sandpaper, and you will eventually emerge polished, and they will be rendered useless.

Mercury- So Mercury, all on his own out here, is the true central figure to this eclipse. He has just moved into Pisces, and as such, he is on the South Node of the Moon. What this means is that for this Eclipse, we have a true conduit to the divine, the world beyond ours. Now, the more lightworkery among you might take this as a chance to start throwing around words like “Higher Self” “Ascension” and “Multi-Dimensional Time” or some other such buffoonery, to which I say NO! This isnt 2011 anymore, we know better now. What IS going to happen is this: The skies will part for you, and you will receive a vision. This can take many forms, but in some way during this period you will come to a realization about your life and where you are along the path. For most of us, this will be a rude awakening, a painful one. For some it will even be horrifying, as if they awoke from a pleasant dream into a living nightmare. You will be challenged to destroy those things in your life which are holding you back from your success, from following your passions, and you will not want to do it. It will feel like you are giving up your lifeline to your past, because that is exactly what you are doing. You no longer need the lifeline, what you need is to find the courage to dive into the here and now. Cut the cord and take the plunge. (Minor Planets used: Pelion, Typhon, Quaoar, Hygeia, Eros)

Mercury (The Chariot)- Our dreams, the visions we have, all of these things are as real as the world we live in now. The thing is, these material objects you see in the world in front of you today – your computer, your whiskey, your car, the restaurant you ate at last night – these things were all dreams before manifest reality. And we want to create, we really do! But we have no fucking idea what to do. We feel trapped in other people’s creations – pushed up against a wall with their judgement being cast down upon us. And just like the last Pisces Eclipse, we can’t see a god damn fucking thing in regards to where we need to go. This can lead to HEAPS of anxiety and a feeling of being lost forever. Without a vision for the future, where the fuck are we in the vast expanse of space? Sure, this Eclipse is making it literally impossible to see the future clearly, but this is for a very, very fucking important reason. We must create it. What are the visions you are seeing? What is your past trying to teach you? Visit with the ghosts, but do not stay here. They will suck you in and keep you there forever – like Hotel fucking California. Get the information you need, and get the fuck out.

We must manifest these visions into reality, and the conduit to all of this is us. We are the medium for the visions, and once we accept ourselves as a vessel – a cup for the divine waters to pour into – only then will be ready to receive. Yeah, more surrendering shit, but would you rather struggle and drown? You have no fucking idea where you are right now, why not answer that call? Are you afraid that you may hear you have been crawling through the thick because you have veered off your path too far? Wouldn’t you rather know? Don’t slide into Piscean escapism. You must make a move. You must use this water energy to manifest your deepest desires. Because if you don’t, you can sure as hell expect a great deal of punishment from yourself. And no one can save you from yourself but you.

Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, and Pluto– So we need to talk about something. Roiling around in your subconscious is the deep and abiding fear that you are insignificant and impotent in the world, and that you will soon be exposed for it. You must confront this very soon, as it will be thrown up in your face if you do not. All your fears will come true if you refuse to face them. You are unconsciously acting from a place of deep fear right now, and what you think is you getting ahead is actually cutting yourself off at the knees. You need to examine your motivations before you make any choices now, lest your decisions lead to your undoing. You cannot trust in yourself implicitly, you have to second guess everything. This is good, because nothing truly makes sense on its own right now- You are caught up in the churn. You will be dragged down and swept out to sea if you don’t keep your head up. There are so many currents trying to claim you as their own right now, and all you want is some dry land to rest on; Unfortunately there is none in sight- You have to keep swimming until you reach the shore. As above, there will be some majorly weird synchronicity the past, old issues resurfacing that you had long since forgotten about- These will be deeply personal, and you have the chance to end them once and for all. It could, however, return something lost that you miss very dearly. If that is the case, then you have a second chance at it, and will have to move on it quickly before it slips away again. You are a different person, even from how you were a month ago. In these times, you can grow as much in a month as it used to take in a year. Showcase how you have changed. In doing so, you may realize that what has returned no longer serves you, and if that happens do not allow nostalgia to override common sense- Move on and act in your own self-interest. This may seem difficult, but remember; Rough seas make for strong sailors, and a lot of sea-sickness! (Minor Planets used: Atlantis, Osiris, Askalaphus, Eris, Echeclus, Hebe, Ixion, Isis, Siwa, Cyllarus, Deucalion, Pallas Athene)

Mars (5 of Cups), Jupiter (5 of Pentacles), Saturn (Empress), Uranus (Page of Wands) and Pluto (King of Swords)- So what do you do when you are being literally crushed? You let go. You become a dream. Or you become an explosion and clear that motherfucking debris out. Pisces wants you to surrender, and that is going to be a hard as fuck thing for a lot of you to do. Do not feel shame. Do not feel guilt. Let it all go and start again, and only then will you be able to see clearly the road you were always meant to follow; because that road isn’t some illusion put there by others. Because that road isn’t something that you are told to go on, but one that your ancestral line has been following for generations. When we are stuck in the waters, we must follow the current – not fight it. Breathe…. breathe… and let go. In the end, you are the only one who will manifest judgement on yourself. You have the power to see past the wrong judgement because your cause is far greater than what has been placed before you. You are not here to save the billions of other beings on this planet. We must give mercy and grace to others so that one day, perhaps, they will learn to lay mercy on their own lives. Remember, the only person who can save you in the end is yourself.

We sit here and we punish ourselves for our dreams, and allow forces to control our perception of reality. This happens to the best of us, over and over again, but we must not give up. We have been given this amazing chance to live in this beautiful realm, and we cannot give our power to others. We must take our power back and wield a fucking sword (King of Swords). You may have to do things you do not want to do, but you know you must do them. This lunation isn’t about feeling comfortable. It will do everything in it’s power to make you feel uncomfortable so that you either choose to completely give up and join the collective (oh Pisces), or power through like the force of a Volcano into a newly polished ego (hello Aries season, coming up next!). Everything is being taken from you, stripped from you so that you realize what the real stuff of reality is. Sometimes we need to be told to eat cake by an out of touch lunatic before we rise up and realize our true power. There is no poverty of the heart. You are making it up. You are giving yourself excuses not to accept the love that is around you. You deserve it. Deep down, every monster is a child begging to be loved (hello Uranus as the Page of Wands), but somewhere along the way they have been told they are worthless by someone who had a lack of self love. This lack of self love is like a virus that can spread, from parent to child or lover to lover or friend to friend. The chaos wants you to create, it is saying you have everything you need accept for your own faith in yourself! You’re drowning in your self doubt. Would you allow someone you saw drowning to drown? If you would help them, you can surely help yourself. This is like the trials of Hercules, folks, and if you don’t have the grit to get through it, you wont get the grace you so long for. Reality is harsh right now. Our faults are being magnified, but that is because we wont be able to make it if we don’t fix these blemishes. Confront your monsters, have faith in yourself and do not run, because through the trials we face lie the gates to salvation.

Solar Eclipse in Pisces- The Messiah Complex was originally published on Heretical Oracles

#Astrology #Eclipse Astro #judgement #messiah complex #Pisces #pisces lunar eclipse #Tarot #astrology #tarot #asteroid astrology #fuckstrology #bruja #brujeria

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