#why are these two hanging out in the void toby

[re--ve--rie]

sometimes I wonder what the soul in the true lab implies

[lovely-necromancy]

A Cure for Insomnia Ch 19

Your bags were jumping and sliding around in the back of Madeline's rusty pickup truck. She had been kind enough to offer you a ride up to the lodge when she stopped by the shop earlier.

Madeline had seen the sour look Nate kept sending you and how you were intentionally not looking over towards the soon to be graying young man. Not one to beat around the bush she asked what was up, mam bear mode peeking through.

Nate was just being a dick to you and saying you had to stay with the Cowells longer than what had originally been agreed to. Big Jo seemed fine about letting you go back home now, even with your resolve set to continue hanging out with Toby. But Nate was trying to put a tight leash on you since you “wouldn't listen to reason” - so he said.

Even with security at the cottage updated Nate still thought it best to keep you with them if you were planning to still interact with Toby. More than likely he was trying to make that harder for you to do since staying with them would definitely make it easier for him to keep track of you.

The thought alone set shivers down your spine. Like a constrictor slithering up your back to rest around your neck and do what it does best.

It had been really hard to breathe these last few days.

But all Madeline needed to hear was “Nate” and “being a dick” before she said she'd take you herself. Thereby ending the conversation and silent argument in the shop, as she spun on her heel stating when she'd pick you up later.

Nate hadn't been too happy about the exchange but he could suck your dick. He's been annoying you with all this Toby bullshit and doesn't get to tell you what he thinks right now.

The drive up is silent, but that comfortable kind of silence between two old friends who don't ever really have a need to talk to hang out. It's nice because it gives you tons of time to think about just what you're about to do.

Going over several scripts all at once in your head.

You want to talk to Toby. You still haven't read that file but it just doesn't sit right with you that it was ever even given to you in the first place. Toby being completely unaware of the total breech of privacy makes your stomach flip just like your bags in the back right now. It's not like you ever asked for the detailed life file but at the same time it feels wrong not to let Toby know tht something like that even exists for him. His past being dug back up all without his knowledge or consent. And now here you were about to lay it right down in front of him.

Was this the right move? You're the one bringing it to his attention, if it's something that will mess him up it'll be your fault that he's upset. Jo and Nate may have gotten the information but you still count yourself as being a complacent party to all of this.

Your stomach feels like it's on a drop tower as it sinks further into a pit of guilt.

You feel like the scum of the Earth right now. Hopefully he isn't too upset.

Seeing your downcast eyes, you were a lot more expressive than you ever really realized, Madeline pipes up, “You gon' be ok there sport?”

A small smile bit at your lips. There's a reason Madeline Cobb was known in Kepler as Mama. She took care of those she saw as her own and that was damn near half the town at this point. Hell you'd heard a rumor she raised most this town. The lodge had been her orphanage  before all the kids grew up and turned it into a resort once new arrivals stopped coming. That's probably the reason it's always been so warm and welcoming, it was a home first.

“Yea...just nervous.”

She lets out a small chuckle at you.

“Don' be, 'm sure that Toby boy will say 'yes'. And if he don' well you just come find me. I'll set him right.”

Ok now you were just confused.

“Huh?”

“Don' worry about it, he likes you jus' like you like 'im. It'll work out for you two.” she reaches over and ruffles your hair before jumping out of the pickup. You hadn't realized you were already at your destination.

And it was too late to correct Mama, she'd already made it inside the lodge, about why you were so nervous. The warmth in your face makes you even more grateful for your mask. Barclay was getting bit by the end of the night, the man really needed to get a boyfriend and stop trying to manifest one for you.

The door to the lodge opens again, you hardly paid it any mind. So lost in your own musing you didn't even notice the man walking towards you. Your goat plush had fallen beneath your seat and you were attempting to grab it but it was too far out of your reach.

“You good there?” Toby's amused voice calls, startling you.

Popping your head out of the opened car door. Heart racing faster at the sight of your friend standing there with a small smirk on his bandaged face. You weren't ready for this.

His eye looks better, well like a normal black eye and not a swollen lump that threatened to over take his socket. Now his eye looked like it could still function out of the slight opening. Fuck this was hard enough when you'd pictured only one eye looking at you but now you had to calculate for both!?

Is it weird that this is what worries you? Are you derailing from the actual situation? Distracting yourself so the conversation is easier on you. So you don't have to think about the possibility that Toby won't want to be friends after this. That he'll end up hating you for something you hadn't done.

God you really want to cry.

“Hey, space cadet.” Toby's made his way over to your side and puts a gentle hand on you knee, “You ok? Did something happen?”

He's really sweet, you're going to miss him.

No, stop. You need to get a grip and stop thinking like this. Toby will understand and you guys can continue being friends, a bit awkwardly but still friends. You'd get to hang out and maybe wander through the Monongahela together.

“I...I dropped my goat.”

He cocks his head to the side, brows slowly smoothing out and he gives a gentle squeeze to your legs as he reaches under you, hand searching for your lost plush.

The warmth that was once collecting in your cheeks shoots down past the void sitting in your stomach. Just another thing to add to your list you suppose. After a week of nearly no privacy or comfort you are thoroughly pent up. You don't necessarily want Toby, just need someone or something to help relieve the fire between your thighs. He just happens to be in proxcimity of that fire, poking the flame that hasn't been snuffed during your stay with the Cowells, making it dance and writhe reminding you of the need.

But you can't focus on that yet, you'd give yourself a hand when you finally got back home. Right now you needed to focus on Toby. And having that uncomfortable conversation.

“Here he is.” placing the goat in your lap he looks into your eyes, a slight glint in his.

He's in a really good mood tonight. You have to ignor the whispers in your head, telling you you're about to ruin this for him.

Luckily a tic to the right shoos those thoughts away for you.

“YN?” his hand is back on your knee, it's such a small gesture maybe even completely subconscious but it helps ground you.

You haven't read that file but you can't see Toby ever doing something awful enough to warrant Nate's barrage of paranoia and fear. Even if he did....he couldn't still be bad right? You're such a good judge of character and you called Brian on his masking there's no way you'd miss Toby lying to your face.

“I...” he's looking into your eyes searching as you take a steadying breath, “I just really need a slushie right now.” your eyes drop to the goat in your hands.

You fucking coward.

It's silent for a moment as you chastise yourself for not just coming out and telling Toby you wanted to talk. Toby's hand falls easily from your knee and to his side.

“A'right then, you good to drive?” you really missed your chance here, “'cuz Brian's got Connor tonight.”

Wait what?

You look at Toby who simply raises the right side of his mouth in a lopsided grin. A subtle raise of his right brow tells you he understood what you'd asked for. When was the last time anyone was ever able to read you so well?

“Yes!” you push the goat into Toby's chest and practically dive into the back seat for your bags. “I can drive. Franklin?”

“Don't work tomorrow, so sure.”

His good mood seems to pick back up a bit. He's chuckling as you rush to gather everything and head over to your car, barely shutting Mama's door as you do. Toby gives it a good bump with his hip to make sure it shut properly. He unlocks your car for you and slides into the passenger's seat while you arrange your shit in the trunk.

You catch sight of the skull still in your trunk and figure you'll just leave it as is for now. Since it seems that literally every time you close this trunk you forget it exists. Bye weirdly placed deer skull maybe one day you'll have a wall mount worthy of your beauty.

Before closing the trunk you do rab the file. Maybe having it up front with you will help you actually tell Toby about it.

When you open the driver's side Toby's hand is already outstretched and waiting for your phone, this isn't his first rodeo after all. You can't help but smile as you hand it right over to him. He notices, because of course he does, and beams back at you. Sending more warmth throughout your body. After collecting your emotions the guilt comes back around.

You need to stop being horny on main. And in front of Toby no less. It's weird, like you're riled up for him and not because you're attention starved and haven't known solitude for over a week.

By the time you're driving off the lot Toby had picked you 'Let's drive to nowhere' playlist. A perfect choice for tonight, seeing as these are all either songs to dissociate to or have mental break downs with. And with you obnoxious emotions either is up for grabs. Aside from the music the car was silent as you drove out of town.

You were so wrapped up in what to say to Toby, how to say it, when – that you ended up not saying anything at all. Toby on the other hand couldn't wait for you any longer and broke the silence himself.

A habit he seems to have, must not like silences.

“Normally you don't shut up,” the words were harsh but his tone wasn't for once.

He watches as the scenery changes from quaint country road to interstate. “Did something happen?”

An awkward anxious smile makes its way on to your face. You've never been good at schooling your features and smiling was unfortunately your default in the even of confrontation. It was probably just your brain's way of protecting you from emotional trauma.

“Sorta.”

To his credit Toby waits for three full songs before prying for more information.

“Another attack?” he's on edge.

To be fair you are too.

“No, like hell Jo and Nate wo-would let me leave if that were it.” your head jerks twice to the right. You miss Toby's wince.

Nate barely let you leave the shop today, you had to get outside assistance aka Mama.

“Ok, so what happened then?” as you bit your lip trying to find your words Toby is running through his own list of possibilities. “Dis Ma- Tim do something to you?”

Huh?

Why would Tim have anything to do with this? Are they still fighting? But Brian has Connor tonight...that doesn't seem likely but you've really only hung out with Toby thus far. You don't know enough about their group dynamic.

You also didn't miss the beginning syllable Toby said. Was he trying to say 'Matt', 'Mark', 'Manny'? There were so many names that Tim's alter could have but at the least you've more or less been told there is an alter to begin with.

But why would Toby be concerned about Tim's alter? Was he the one that punched Toby? Were they actually the two fighting and not Tim and Toby? This is confusing just being on the outside, you have no idea how the trio copes with this situation.

“Oh no, Tim and Not Tim have been nice to me.” if you're coming clean about the file might as well come clean about knowing Tim has an alter. This way Toby could pass along the message to Tim and Not Tim.

“Back up, not liter-mrrow – literally. 'Not Tim'? You've met Mas-Ma-Masky?!”

Masky? That's a strange name, but who were you to judge the name someone gave themself. Maybe he's a He/Him enby.

“Not like formally or anything, but I'm pretty sure he was the one that helped me and Ronnie out the other week.” you switch lanes to drive off of the interstate, hoping to find a secluded road to have this conversation on.

God knows it's going to take all of your concentration.

Toby was seething in his seat and you know the tension is only going to get worse going forward.

You can hear him muttering to himself, 'of course' or 'he didn't remember', over and over. Finding a good place to park the car you take it and turn to Toby, who's still lost in his own head.

“Tobias.” you call trying to jostle him and it works a little too well in a sense. As he blurts out, “Don't! Masky's dangerous stay away from him!”

He immediately freeze like he hadn't meant to say that. And while it wasn't a tic it was probably an impulse brought on by his anxious frame of mind. He's popping his knuckles again too.

You don't know why you said it, looking at Toby's wide blown pupils – riddled with fear and nerves, you should've kept you mouth shut.

“Dangerous like you?”

Or at least phrased that a bit more eloquently.

Toby's eyes grow dark and his good eye cuts low nearly matching it's swollen twin. A shiver runs down your spine even though you know the malice is not for you.

“What.” he hisses out.

It's not a question, it's an order. He wants to know what you know and maybe even who told you. Maybe he thinks Masky told you something, since that was the topic of the previous conversation.

Dark eyes watch you like a hawk as you pull the file from the map holder in your door. His chest is nearly heaving with every breath at this point, can he hyperventilate? That's a dumb question he most certainly can. And he's either on his way to that or a panic attack. You hope you don't send him into a panic attack, Connor's not here to help. Connor know pressure though, Toby's had him preform it on you during your spells. Would it work the same if you laid on top of Toby? You're getting too distracted right now.

Not trusting yourself to not just back down now, you hold the folder out to Toby to take.

He's just staring at it like it'll attack him at any moment, and honestly it might...just not physically. He glances up at you. There's a funny flash of deja vu likening back to the first time you met. Cold indifferent and confused eyes looking at you as though you were some strange alien they'd never seen before. This time however there's a spark of something else in them. Something dark that festers beneath the surface. Was that hatred, betrayal, or was that the wall he was building back up. The wall that would sever this friendship.

Stop projecting. He hasn't even taken the file, he can't possibly know what's going on right now.

“What's that?” see.

“Nate got super protective after the attack, I guess the other day you just like rubbed him the wrong way. So, he had someone look into you. That file is everything they found...pretty sure it's your whole life, I swear I haven't read anything. Not even a peek. But Jo and Nate tried to tell me the-”

He snatched the file from you before you'd even said you hadn't looked. He opened it and a second later it was closed and he took a shaky breath before looking at you.

It was your turn to look like a deer in headlights tonight, you knew that breath was one of barely concealed rage. This was it, this was where everything ended, all because Nate had “a bad feeling” about Toby.

But you trusted Toby, he wouldn't hurt you. He was your friend.

“So” he lets out a harsh sigh, “you didn't...you haven't read anything?”

You hastily shake your head, “What did they tell you.” he looks off to the side and his mouth is all screwed up, and not in it's normal mangled sense.

“That I shouldn't see you anymore, you did something bad, awful, terrifying; Nate's list goes on but I sort of...fo the fingers in the ear 'lalala' thing” you say sheepishly, “anytime he tries to tell me something. Jo stops when I ask him to. He's not too worried about you...I think.”

Or he's working behind the scene to keep you and Toby separated for the long run but that's speculation and not the point of this conversation so you don't mention it.

Toby's flipping through the file skimming it, no doubt looking for his checkered past, he finds what he's looking for and nods once continuing on like he was reading a grocery list. Which he may as well have been, a grocery list of all his transgressions. With the way his fingers gripped the edges of the folder you could tell he was putting on a front about the contents.

They did bother him.

“Why didn't you look, why didn't you listen YN?” was he seriously angry at you for that?

“It was an invasion of your privacy. Whatever's in there I wanted you to have the ability to tell me on your own terms – if you ever even wanted to. Not because you were forced into it because I found out from some third party that doesn't even know you.”

“Then why the fuck did you -wrong- practically jump into a car with me and then hand me a file on my shitty life!?!” He slammed the file down into his lap with a lot of force, more than he should have used for sure. “They think I'm a menace and they're right you shouldn't have...you need to...” he trails off looking like he's trying to disintegrate the file in front of him with latent laser eye abilities.

His arms are shaking.

No – he's trembling. The way he's biting his lip tips you off. He's trying to hold himself together, trying to stop himself from breaking. This can't be the same person Nate's so worried about.

“You're biting your lip, that's not good for you.”

“Fuck off.” it's half hearted at best, no real weight behind the words. And he does let his abused lip go.

“It's a breech of trust if I didn't tell you this...I wanted to give you the file because you should know it's been read by two people, to my knowledge.” you place a hand on his forearm, “Toby, I don't know what you've done in the past but...you know you aren't that person now, right?”

He's out of the car in an instant, slamming the door behind him. You follow, as dumb as you understand it is, getting out of your car in the middle of no where with a very unstable person.

“Get back in the car. I mrrow I can't...I need a minute.” his shaking is so much worse now that he's standing, It's even put a tremble in his voice.

“You're stupid if you think I'm leaving you alone in the middle of no where.” you stand your ground, he may need space but this is not the place to have it. You're only a few miles from town, you can get him back to the lodge where he doesn't have to see or be near you.

Hell you won't say a word on the way back.

“Like you're not stupid for ignoring the warnings that I'm dangerous! I've killed people! Did you know that?! Did you even think that's what was so bad!?” he's giving you the same glare he had on when he talked about the fight with Tim.

“I could literally kill you right now, you've driven us out to who knows where but still remained in walking distance back to town. You live on the outskirts of it and it'd be so easy for me to make you disappear and everyone would believe your stalkers got to you.” his chest heaves at a vicious rate.

Despite the venom and truth of his words, you can't find it in you to be scared of him. If anything his rant proves Toby must not have been mentally well during his crimes, he's acting like a cornered alley cat not a serial killer. There's a vice grip on you heart at the thought.

“Ok...are you?”

It's like a switch has been flipped in him and he calms instantly.

“What?” he knows what you're asking.

“Are you going to kill me?” you asked like you'd been asking what time it was.

He stares at you looking you up and down, “No...I wouldn't.” his neck jerks triggering your own tic.

“Then I'm safe.” you slowly approach him, much like you would a feral alley cat. “I trust you Tobias.” you reach out to tough his arm again.

It hadn't worked in the car but Toby does seem to calm down faster when he's being touched. Like the sensation brings him back to reality and locks him there.

“Y-you shouldn'n'n't.”

He doesn't pull away this time as you place your hands gently on his forearms. His eyes raise to meet yours.

“...I've killed.”

He sounds so helpless.

The only thing you find shocking about this is that he actually did it. You know people are capable of all sorts of vile things. But the way Toby's voice breaks, the tremors that run through his body. You can't see any similarity with the horror show you once imagined, a Toby covered head to toe in blood and a vicious grin.

The fact that Toby killed doesn't really phase you much more than the ever present 'how' that rings out. He must have had a reason. Jo wasn't too worried so maybe it was circumstantial. Not to mention Toby's among the general public. Could it have just been an accident? A misunderstanding?

“I don't – no I'm not going to say 'I don't care', because this is something that really effects you but I...I guess what I'm trying to get at is..it doesn't bother me. I know it should but, Tobias I just can't picture you as a murderer.” that blood stained Toby flashes before you singing 'liar', “I got to know you before finding out any of this. So, I know there must've been a reason behind it. And that's...and you don't have to tell me anything.”

Nothing more is said, after all you've said everything you could think of to deescalate the situation. And Toby is frozen as he stares at you. You'd have thought he was dissociating had it not been for the way his eyes still held that tiny reflection of light. He was still present, just unsure how to proceed.

Honestly you were stumped too, you had no idea how to begin this conversation let alone end it.

“My – there was...” you rub his arm in a small circular motion. You don't need to hear anything more, it already feels like too much information that he'd lost the agency for.

But your gentle shushing did nothing because he continued, “Clairse says I had a psychotic break and...just went after the biggest stressor at the time.” he pauses with a deep breath and closes his eyes in the process. “She says it wasn't really my fault, I was under...a lot of – I wasn't there, where I should've been mentally. My dad was abusive...anyone in my situation would've broken at some point.”

His words are hollow and robotic. A mantra he's learned to say although he doesn't believe it.

You'd normally give someone the choice but this time you just slip you arms over his shoulders and pull him into a hug. There's no resistance from him either, if anything he leans into the embrace and grips onto your back. His trembling doesn't stop but it's softened by the pressure.

“You don't have to tell me anything Tobes. I don't want you to...not if it's this painful.”

“I want – want to tell you about Lyra.” his voice cracks in tandem with his neck as he says her name.

And he does tell you, against all your protests to take his time. He tells you everything laid out his whole life right in front of you. From being home schooled early on – isolated within his own home for years, to his older sister and her untimely accident that he's still clearly wracked with guilt about, and then the spiral that ended in patricide and a fire that ate his entire neighborhood.

By the end of his recounting he'd stopped trembling and letting out the occasional sniffle – and now the two of you were leaning on the hood of your car. Looking at the stars that just started coming out for the night, you occasionally whispered affirmations to Toby as he tells more stories from his childhood. The good ones this time.

His spirits aren't as high as they were when you'd started your evening but they're much better than they were two hours ago.

You chuckle as he finishes telling you about the time he and Lyra managed to sneak out of the house for a concert only to realize they had no way of getting back into the house when they returned. Their mom just opened the door letting them inside with a small crease in her brow but the smile that played at her lips told them everything they'd needed to know. They weren't in trouble, she'd sent them off to bed and in the morning asked how the show was. From the way Toby talked about his mom you can tell he really loves her. The feeling must've been mutual, if she sent them off to bed instead of dishing out a punishment all because Toby had smiled for the first time in weeks that night.

“Ah, favorite child Toby strikes again.” you joke.

This time Toby didn't say anything, you had been throwing small jokes in to help keep the mood light, but he just looked at you with his head tilted. A grim expression barely crossed his features before being replaced with a lopsided smile and warm but sad eyes.

“Y'kn – Kyra used to say that all the time.”

“Must be true then.”

He looks at his hands with the softest expression you've ever seen. It's an expression normally given to Connor, just sadder this time.

You nudge him getting his attention back to the present.

“You still want that slushie?”

He takes a moment to look around you and finally rests his gaze on the stars. “Not Franlin, not tonight.” he says focusing back on to you.

“Think we're two exits from Riverton if that helps. They have Wawas.”

“Wawas?” he chuckles.

You nod, “Yea they have smoothies and milkshakes.”

“Ooh la la.”

You both snort and head back into the car. It's surreal to be buckling back in, joking around with Toby when just hours prior you thought you'd be ending your friendship the moment you opened your mouth.

You can't help but ask, “Are we cool?”

“Yea...we're good. 's not like you fucking asked for the information.” he leans his head against the window and crosses his arms into himself.

“I'm still sorry about it though.”

“Know you are. But it's over now.” the finality of that statement takes the weight off of your shoulders. For the first time in days you can breathe again.

“Thanks for telling me everything...you didn't have to. But I appreciate you sharing it with me.”

His nails dig into his arms, or they would have if they weren't chopped down to the bit.

“I mrrow I-I didn't tell you everything...”

Nope this was over and done with, no more sad and scared Toby. You couldn't handle anymore, guilt had found a friend in discomfrot and the two had set out to eat you alive with every tremor that tore through Toby's body.

“What are you like a child murderer or something?” Giving a laugh to soften the joke.

….

You missed the way Toby tenses and sucks in a breath. His heart is beating wildly in his chest, so hard he's certain you hear it. Is that where you draw the line? Child murder. Of course you had to have some boundaries he couldn't just expect you to be cool with everything he's done. You were sure to figure it out sooner or later no thanks to your boss. But Toby couldn't loose you now. Not when you've been an anchor he hasn't had in such a long time. He feels almost human again when he's with you.

He's been quiet too long, at least he thinks he has. He needs to say something, joke around back and dismiss the notion. You can't know not now – maybe not ever.

“I'm trans!” he hadn't meant to blurt that out.

He stared at you with wide eyes. Why had he said that, that hadn't even crossed his mind. Just as he was about to laugh it off you reached over and lightly punched him in the arm. That small gesture sent a tickle down Toby's spine. It was such an innocent touch, but he was touched starved and knew it.

“I am too goof. Thanks for telling me but why the wait?”

Fuck now he had to think of something. Talking to you always made him so brain dead.

“Mrrow...mrr-you saw me as a man first...I wanted to keep it that way.” maybe he didn't have to make something up, just tell you the half truth.

Brian had questioned him when they got ready for the picnic why he hadn't worn his trans tie dye shirt and he's said he misplaced it. A bold lie to tell someone like Brian, especially since it'd been a gift from his mom. She had sent it in a care package last June. He'd never loose something his mom gave him, at least not so quickly. If he'd been being honest with himself at the time, he was worried about your reaction. Of course he knew you were trans too so not like you'd be one to be a transphobe, but he didn't want you to stop seeing him as a man and only see him as trans.

“Toby, you are a man. Nothing short of you telling me otherwise will change that for me.”

Toby isn't sure when you grabbed his hand but he's aware of your hold when you start to rub along his knuckles. He watches your thumb circle jis joints and pressing a bit into the divots as he takes another deep breath.

He gives his best smile, a lopsided uncomfortable looking thing, “I don't think I like when you call me Toby.”

[mythicaldemigoddess-of-deltarune]

Crossover AU: Sans’s Lion & Bubbled Monster Souls 

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Credit for Deltarune & Undertale goes to Toby Fox

Credit for Steven Universe Series goes to Rebecca Sugar

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while watching the episode where Lion first appears,

I got inspired to draw Lion as a Pink Skeleton with blue ethereal...?

I’m just gonna call it ethereal (I think it is a type of magic energy)

anyway like I was saying, Lion as a Pink Skeleton with a blue ethereal mane and even at the tip of his tail has the ethereal.

all the Monster Souls in Rose’s Room, are all the Monsters that were killed by Frisk, Sans bubbled them all and send them to Rose’s Room....which would technically be Steven’s and then Sans’s.

I was going to have the background be all black, but then I got the idea to have Lion in Rose’s Room.

the idea is that so long as the Souls remain in Sans’s Bubbles

they wont end up disappearing, and when Sans escape the Undertale Timeline and moved to the Deltarune Timeline,

he took his little brother, any other survivors and lastly

Lion and his Room that is known as “Rose’s Room”

like in a Steven Universe/Undertale/Deltarune Crossover AU.

Lion is kept instead and mostly keeps Papyrus company,

all while Sans is at work.

this version of Lion, when bring brought back to life a second time.

ends up getting a new ability, and that is being able to travel to different multiverses and AUs.

even to the place where Error-Sans & Ink-Sans normally hang out.

and maybe even where Core-Frisk is.

there could be different crossover versions of Lion,

at least I think there might be.

try picturing a Underfell version of Lion being really protective of Sans and any time Papyrus tries to make a grab for him or threatens him,

Lion would growl at him and hug Sans close to him in order to protect him from his Boss/Brother.

I still think if Sans and Steven are one in the same, then it is possible that how Steven become Sans can have different outcomes.

either he starting aging backwards when he is about to die,

and in his last moments he stops at the newborn age and he becomes a babybones and then is found by Mr & Mrs Wingdings

who adopt him, but also make him biologically related to them,

by taking each fragment of their souls and placing it into San’s Human Looking Soul which after the two fragments merge with San’s Human Soul, it transforms into a Monster Soul.

the Soul would also be “reborn” in a way, while still having traces of the Light Genetic Magical Makeup that makes up the Gem’s Essence.

as well as Steven’s Human Soul, which is now a Monster Soul.

it also has traces of Mr & Mrs Wingdings Genetic Magical DNA,

thanks to their two fragments being placed into Sans’s Soul,

and causing Sans to be fully reborn as a Monster and being reborn as Mr & Mrs Wingdings’s biological son, too.

I believe that the name “Wingdings”  

is actually Gaster’s Family Name, this would mean that Sans and Papyrus’s full names are:

Wingdings Sans and Wingdings Papyrus.

just like how some humans have their family names come first,

it can be the same for monsters too.

so if this is true, then “Gaster” would not be the family name

but would technically be Gaster’s given name when he was born.

Lion could of been with the Baby Steven when Gaster and his wife,

found them (at the same spot Asriel finds Chara)

but instead of just being a skeleton, Steven could of still been human,

but after he left beach city,

he ended up deciding to check out mount ebott

but accidentally fell and when Lion sensed he was in danger,

he went to go save him but it ended up being too late.

Steven was age fluxing from when he was 14, 17 and even to middle age and elderly age.....but at his final breath, his last age flux stop at newborn Steven.

that was when Gaster and his wife came into the picture,

and notice the Lion had what appeared to be a human baby.

Gaster picks up the baby and notice the heartbeat had stop,

and with much convincing from his wife, the two decide to place a fragment piece from both of their souls into the newborn.

which caused not only the baby to brought back to life,

but it also caused the baby to transform from a human

to a skeleton monster baby.

which bewildered and shocked Lion and the Two Married Wingdings.

Gaster and his Wife [Redacted] decide to take the baby and even the Lion, home with them.

Gaster being a Doctor, did some tests and found out that by reviving the human baby with fragments of their souls, it caused the human soul to change into a monster soul and even have the baby become “reborn” as the Biological Son of the two of them.

there can be different ways that Steven becomes Sans,

this idea is just one of them.

plus when Steven becomes Sans and is reborn thanks to his new biological parents: Mr & Mrs Wingdings.

it also made him biologically related to his brother Papyrus.

and if there is a Gaster Jr. (because of the whole Gaster being Papyrus and Sans’s Brother too.) aka “Aster”

so not to confuse him with Gaster Sr...

he would of been at home during the time when his parents found Steven who would then be reborn as his new little brother Sans.

Sans could still have his Gem Powers, and when Lion ends up dying again....the Lion is brought back as Skeleton Monster thanks to Sans’s tears.

Sans could of brought Lion back to life when he was no more than 2 years old.

during this time Sans hasn’t yet remembered his past life as Steven Quartz Universe.

but at some point when Papyrus was a baby, his memories started to flood back to him and he remembered everything.

from his trauma that started in his childhood (Steven Universe)

to the breaking point he had a few years later (Steven Universe Future)  

the only one he could talk to about it, would be the only one from his past still with him, and that would be Lion.

Sans’s Mom and Dad (Gaster and [Redact]) know very little about Steven’s past before he became their second son who they named “Sans”, all they know is that their magic and two fragments from each of their souls merged with his former human soul and brought him back to life and changed him from a human to a skeleton monster.

this version of Sans would end up having to move to the Deltarune Timeline, because the non-stop geno route that Frisk played through.

in the past resets, Sans didn’t think about saving everyone by placing their souls in bubbles, that is until he discovered he could

when he bubbled Papyrus’s Soul after Frisk killed him.

after figuring out that he could bubble monster souls,

Sans started to follow Frisk, and after they were finished killing a monster, Sans would then bubble them and send them to Rose’s Room.

any other monster that Frisk didn’t end up killing,

Sans would have them go into Lion’s Ethereal Mane.

knowing how Rose’s Room works, he knows it will likely try to make copies of the bubbled monster souls.

so in order to find them if they should get mixed up wit fake copies (that ends up being made by the room), Sans would have to use the new trick he learned, and that is using blue magic to grab at the souls.

if he tried to use the blue magic on a fake bubbled monster,

it wont react the same and will only burst into pink clouds.

he would then take the real bubbled monster souls

and place them in Lion’s Ethereal Mane.

when entering Lion’s new mane, at first glance it looks the same as how it was before, but now it is dark and the only thing that is the same is the two trees that belong to both Lion and Lars, as well as the small hill that has Rose’s belongings as well as the Portrait of Rose.

but the place is now in the Dark World/Void.

which means whenever someone goes in through Lion’s Ethereal Mane, their existence would be forgotten by the outside world.

the grass/hair/mane, could end up having the ability to have Darkners/Tulpa  not end up transform into inanimate objects as soon as they leave The Dark World/Void.

this can be because of the new magic of Lion’s Mane.

on one side that makes up Lars’s side, the grass and Lars’s tree are still pink, but has bits and pieces of blue leafs in the tree.

on Lion’s side, Lion’s tree is fully blue

and becoming what looks like a Echo Tree and the grass ends up being blue too. all being same color as Lion’s Ethereal Mane.

 even if Lars’s tree and grass hasn’t changed very much, it still ends up in the Dark World/Void.

if Lancer ends up finding that new place in the dark world,

he would end up finding the spot in the blue grass/mane

that would lead him outside, like he would end up falling out of Lion’s ethereal mane.

but he wouldn’t end up turning into a inanimate object but instead stays how he is.

so any darkner (Headcanon Name of Race “Tulpa” )

ends up finding that place with those two trees, where one side of the grass is pink and the other blue.

going through them and ending up popping out of Lion’s Ethereal Mane, will let them be able to keep the forms they had in the dark world/void.

not everyone has to agree about the whole Dark World being the Void and it has the power to make those outside it forget,

and only those who have been to the void will remember Kris and Susie if they end up going back there again in Chapter 3, cause the whole Noelle and Berdly being to the Dark World/Void,

and if they both are still in Alphys’s class, and Kris and Susie went to the Dark World/Void.

only Noelle and Berdly would remember them.

it would explain why there wasn’t a search party for those two

and no one seem all that worried about them.

at least not until they remembered them when they came back from the Dark World/Void.

it is possible when Kris and Susie ended up in the Dark World,

those in their world, still remembered them but at the same time as a hour past the memories of those two became foggy and when a few hours past the memories of them all but faded.

but if Noelle and Berdly have been to the Dark World/Void,

they wouldn’t be effected and would be immune, same would be for anyone else who might end up going to the Dark World/Void.

I don’t think Ralsei is Asriel, but could still end up being technically a creation of his.

but even if I and other fans had theories that Ralsei might be a bad guy, that might not be true for the real Ralsei that we meet in Chapter 1.

I believe the Ralsei we meet in Chapter 2, is a Fake and the real Ralsei is that Faux-Ralsei’s Prisoner and is being kept in a room we can’t get to yet.

another theory is that Ralsei is Flowey from one of the Geno Timeline from Undertale, when he ends up being killed by Frisk...

he doesn’t just cease to be, he ends up falling into the Dark World/Void and having a type of Amnesia, and when some of the essence of Asriel of Deltarune, entered into the dark world, it transformed that version of Flowey into Ralsei.

we know when Ralsei falls in battle, he at times will end up leaving behind just his hat and clothes, which makes you wonder what is under there and could it be dust?

it is likely Flowey is under there and whenever Ralsei falls in battle and there is nothing left of him but his hat and clothes, what is hiding in them might turn out to be Flowey.

that is just a theory after all.

anyway I’m going to go back to watching Steven Universe now.

see ya later and stay safe.                                    

[vanessaisthatbitch]

During the first few years after you had left, we still celebrated the life of you .

We used to celebrate your birthday, plan the whole day for you as if you never left us.

We released balloons every year with little notes tied to the strings for you to read.

We used to sing happy birthday with tear filled eyes, our sisters sobbing.

There is a void in my heart that I can't ever seem to fill, even when I forgave those who took you from us. I feel like a stranger to you though you are my big brother,  I wish that I could have been a little bit older, or that you just never died in general. I wish we just had more time.

I fight so hard to keep a bond with Ash, Amber, Tobi and Bubba but we're all grown up now and I crave relationships with each and everyone of you. I want to be close to my big sisters the way I see others,  I want to be close to my only two big brothers I have left.

We're spread out, I can't hug them right now,

Sometimes I crave a hug from my big brother but I can't reach out and touch any of you .

Losing Sean had definitely broke us and sometimes I feel like Im drowning trying to scrape together what is left of your memory because I don't have many of you.

When you died so unexpectedly I realized that I used to take my siblings for granted, I used to be mad because I didn't understand why Tobi left but when I grew up I understood and I am no longer angry that you left me. Being the baby of your family isn't always the best. I didn't have anyone to grow up with to make those beautiful sibling bonds that I crave and want so very bad. I remember when I was a child and I always wanted to be with my big brothers or my big sisters and they always said ,"Wait until your older baby sister, then we can really hang out."

Now I'm older.

Ashley and I never had the big sis/lil sis relationship because she was always taking care of us, she was always in mother mode. Now, it's like she has the time to get to know who I have become as a young woman. We have fought, apologized and forgave each other. Now we have a bond but it's not as deep as the one I crave.

Amber and I had that bond. You were my best friend sister and I always have looked up to you. My style is even the same as yours, I got my tongue pierced because you have yours pierced. You showed me music and we would talk about our life and how honestly fucked up our family is. Then you moved away, so did I and we lost touch. I miss you big sister, I miss our bond I miss talking with you all night long.

Bubba has always been there for me when I needed my big brother the most, we may be 9 years and 1 day apart but our bond I believe is the absolute strongest. You always did your best, you always helped me out when no one else would, you'd lie for me and save my ass a million times, I miss that ugly yellow car, and no matter how young I was you never let me be alone. All my early childhood memories consists of mostly you.

But ever since we lost you Sean and the years have almost reached a decade we just don't celebrate anymore.  No more birthday cake for you, no more balloons released for you, no one talks about you they avoid you like a plague. 

It hurts me because I think I may be the only one of my siblings that forgave your murderer in order to let go of this sadness that lingers, I forgave them because I had to do it for me, I had to move on after five long years of this endless darkness that I've been fighting so hard to get out of . Sometimes I feel Ashamed to admit that yes, I forgive them.

If you are lucky enough to have never experienced the loss of a sibling, please don't take them for granted. Yes they might be annoying and have stinky feet but you'll miss every single second once you can no longer reach out and touch them.

Talk to your siblings, love them, hug them everyday,don't hold grudges, don't be petty, apologize.

Cherish them ❤.

~𝓥𝓪𝓷𝓮𝓼𝓼𝓪

[gotmilk5101520]

Trollhunters: Tales of Arcadia Watch Episode 14 Return of the Trollhunter

Now we begin the second half of season 1 (It’s actually season 2 but we don’t talk about that)

“Holy moly!”

Toby survives that.

“What the heck was-?”

“Huh?” We now return to your daily schedule bizarre adventures.

“Hop on!”

“Adios, fire cat”

“Hey, maybe save the jokes for when we aren’t gonna die” Well it sounded cool in his head.

“I can’t believe you took that stupid rock to your science class!”

“First, it’s not a rock. It’s a volcanic slag”

“And how was i suppose to know there was a flaming monster hiding in it?”

“You bought a magic rock off a troll named “Marvin the Monster Dealer” What did you think would happen, Tobes?” What happened before this moment?

“Um, Master Jim, you said this was a luminaire”

“When that is obviously an infernal hellheeti” Getting away with saying hell.

“Should i punch it?”

“Can i punch it?”

“Yes!” “No!”

“I was going to add, make sure you do not feed the fire by attacking it!”

“Opps” Punching doesn’t solve everything.

Jim uses Water Breathing. Tanjiro would be proud.

“Uh, guys, the fire hydrant-”

“Close enough”

Just keep walking.

Why is the opening still the same, even though Bular is dead now?

“Morning mom”

“Hi”

“Made your favorite breakfast”

“Sorry, kiddo, in a rush”

Should i be glad that Miraculous Ladybug doesn’t have something like this? It would be painful to watch. Fortunately, everyone in Miraculous Ladybug is stupid.

“I mean, it’s been like a month” Wait it’s been a month since last episode? So what have they been doing in a month?

“I don’t know how to fix this unless i tell her the truth”

“But if i do, they’ll send me to the crazy house” Hey, you told Claire, and she didn’t send you to the crazy house. Well she was tempted to do that cause you weren’t making any sense, but she didn’t.

“They fixed your tooth” Why did it take this long for Steve’s tooth to get fixed? I doubt all of the first half happened in a single month.

“I heard he was run out of town by the mob”

“I heard he got a mail-order bride and moved to North Korea”

“As if. Where do you think Mr. Strickler went, Jimmy-Jam. After all, he was dating your mom”

“Why does everyone keep bringing this up?!”

“Guys, this is my brother, and NotEnrique’s driving me nuts”

“You know how many times i have to change him?”

“He knows how to use a toilet”

“He chooses the diaper” “Yeah? Well at least you didn’t have to shove your hand in stinking diapers, and have it still stink to this day” “Ugh. Why does it still still stink? Have you washed your hands?” “Yes! 100 times since i got home with my cold McDonald’s French Fries” “Well excuse me, prince” “It’s well excuse me, princess!” “Are you two gonna kiss right now?” “Shut up Toby!”

“You spend so much time with Lake, you’re practically swimming in him” That’s what she said.

“We’re just friends. End of story” Wait, did- Did Claire just Adrien Agrested Jim? Goddamn it Adrien! Your Just a Friending made it’s way to Arcadia and got Claire. I hope you’re happy.

“Okay, people, who can tell me what happened in the year 1989?”

“No, seriously, i don’t remember. It was a crazy year” Let’s see. What video games came out that year.

“Really, Palchuk? That’s it. I’m dating your mom” “No, no, wait!”

Okay hold on. Why does it take a month for Claire to see Trollmarket? Out-of-Universe reason i can understand. You want to do a one month skip, and we all want to Claire’s reaction to Trollmarket. Could you imagine Claire going to Trollmarket off-screen? We get a few mentions of it here and there, but we never see her full reaction. I can understand the out of universe reason. But what i don’t understand is the In-Universe reason. Like Jim told Claire the truth a month ago. There’s no reason to keep anything a secret with her. Like why? A month to progress all of this? Cause i think it would take Claire a week at most to take it all in. Slower than when J- Never mind.

“Now, you’re gonna want to start drawing a semi-circle”

“Oh! You have it. Okay, never mind” Easier than me drawing an actually circle.

“It’s... It’s lively. Shit that’s Aja’s thing!”

He pets.

“Jim told me you helped him face Draal”

“And slay Bular” Wait Jim explained the entire first half of the season to Claire? Where are the fucking fanfics?

“And that Vespa!”

“Best birthday ever. Except for the part where Jim gets chased by a Stalkling” “That is something i want to forget”

“You’ve read A Brief Recapitulation of Troll Lore?”

“Volumes 1 through 47 It took me a while to decipher the symbols”

“But once i got past the Fifth Declension, i started to get the hang of it” It’s embarrassing when your (Not yet, almost, but not really, not for another season) girlfriend knows more about Troll Lore than you.

“She read the book!”

“She read the book! Master Jim, i love my daughter in law!” “Wait what?”

“She’s a flower” Mood.

Always have a drink before you continue.

“I accepted a human Trollhunter’

“And allowed the pudgy one to stay for moral support” Toby is the moral support boyfriend. Claire is the moral support girlfriend. See? Two different roles.

“But this? A third?”

“It’s an infestation!” Hey they’re not rabbits where they multiple every 5 seconds. Then again, Jim and Claire- Never mind again.

*Talks in Troll*

“She speaks Troll”

“And Trollmarket is honored to have you as well”

“Oh, Blinkous! If only the amulet had chosen such a learned and delightful fleshbag”

“Hey!” Trollhunter Claire au.

“That was awesome, Claire”

“Vendel loves you and he hates everyone!” I said it once, and i’ll say it again: Vendel is the most relatable character in this series.

Where did this light came from?

“Hopefully, this will give the girl some closure”

“She does understand why we cannot allow the bridge to open?”

“Well, you said it yourself, we’d be fools to open the bridge and risk letting Gunmar out”

“Right, Jim?”

“Oh, of course”

“We’d be crazy to do that“ Yeah... A crazy fool, heheheheh...

“Hey buddy, it’s your sis”

”Don’t you start thinking i’ve forgotten about you”

“We’re gonna get you back. I promise”

“See you soon, little chicharron”

*Cries in Troll*

“I need to share a word with our Trollhunter” That’s what it’‘s like when dad wants to talk to you alone. Then again, i don’t have a dad so...

“Hey, Draal? It’s strange, but i feel like i’ve seen you before. Have we met?” “Uh...”

“No. You must’ve mistaken me for someone else”

“Hate to be there when we have to rebuild Jim, right?”

“What a mess”

“Well, i just grossed myself out” We’ll see about that in Wizards.

“You fight in an arena surrounded by the remains of dead Trollhunters?”

“That is...”

“The most heroic thing i’ve ever seen. If their ghosts talked, then it be like Mulan”

“Sometimes, the heart leads you down paths you should not cross”

“How did you-?”

“Figure it out?”

“Your devotion to this girl is as obvious as Marinette’s feelings for Adrien. WHICH IS STILL DRIVING ME CRAZY!!!”

“But you know the danger”

“If you went in alone, you’d be killed”

“Which is why we will answer every call”

“You said i have to answer every call. Now-“

“Wait, did you just say “We”?”

“Aaarrrgghh and i discussed it. We knew you were going in, with or without our approval”

“But... If Claire’s brother is important to you, then he’s important to us”

“For folly or for fraught”

“We are a team”

*Cries in Troll again*

“Is this normal?”

“Nothing’s normal around here”

“Get used to it, sister” Translation: “Welcome to your new life”

“But only a Trollhunter can wield Daylight”

“We are Trollhunters!”

“Oh, man! Now, i’m dead!”

“That stupid Soothscryer killed me in the Forge” He thought Bular would kill him. But nope, instead it’s the fucking Soothscryer.

“What do you mean, he’s in the Void?”

“The Void sounds like a very empty word. A bad word” I hear the Void is very welcoming.

“Yeah. And are these happy ghosts we’re talking about here”

“Or Mulan’s ghost family?”

“He is now under the spiritual guidance of”

“Master Trollhunters”

“Ghost guidance counselors?”

“So, it is like Mulan”

“Wow! So trolls and ghosts exist”

“What’s next? A Midsummer Night’s Dream?”

“Fairies?”

“Fairies? Preposterous!”

“Fairies lost the war to the pixies centuries ago” Hate to meet these pixies, right?

“But if we’re going in, they said the only way we’re getting out alive is if we kill Gunmar” Well that’s a bigger lie than any lie Lila can make.

“And with Strickler gone, maybe we have a chance”

Speak of the devil. Or changeling.

If i ever seem dead, be sure to throw rocks at me to be sure.

“Who has awakened me?”

This is me and my sister.

“You know my name”

“A shame i will never know yours”

Angor Rot had to deal with the goblins wrath.

“My ring”

“My flesh”

“Yield to me!”

“For i wear the One Ring”

“You have killed thousands”

“You are chaos incarnate”

“And you”

“are...

“mine”

“Hahahahaha!”

The second half of season 1 (Actually season 2) is off to a great start.

Shit, what do i say that has something to do with next episode? Uh... See you next episode?

[magic-and-moonlit-wings]

Chapter 50: Insecurity Abounds

Becoming The Mask 

Why wasn't it working?!

Jim ducked the fire jets and somersaulted out of their path.

The Forge floor tilted, sending him sliding back to where he’d started from. He braced his feet against the pop-up turret that spewed fire and launched himself up to grab the next turret, the one that shot darts. He used the higher turret to swing himself back to level ground. Jim blocked the darts that followed him with his sword.

Gunmar’s Eye hadn’t had any noticeable effect on the Amulet yet.

Jim wove through and around the pendulum axes.

When he’d put the Heartstone chip in the Amulet, he’d been able to summon a knife in minutes.

He threw several knives at a target and used his sword to cut another in half.

Of course, he’d been actively hoping for a knife when he’d cleaved that stone, and he didn’t have any solid idea what this new one was supposed to do.

Jim made it to the Soothscryer and inserted his hand.

The Forge’s mechanisms shut down. The past Trollhunters did not draw him into the Void to advise him on how to find out the properties of a newly cleaved stone.

“Okay, let’s break down the possibilities,” Jim said out loud, in case the Ghost Council decided to chime in after all. He paced around the Soothscryer. “It’s supposed to help defeat Gunmar. It’s an eye, so … insight to his strategies? Can I spy on him through it somehow?”

Except, hadn’t Vendel said there was a stone for that already? A glimpse into your enemy’s mind …

Well, a backup would be helpful to have if it turned out they did the same thing.

“Or is it like those old superstitions where you can use a piece of somebody to harm them remotely?”

Some human cultures advised caution in disposing of one’s shed hair and nail clippings for that reason. Jim didn’t know if any other trolls had analogous beliefs, but since stone flesh was literally magical it did come up among Changelings sometimes.

“Or like magnets. Can he not touch me if I armour up with the Eye in the Amulet? Not like I can test that, or like it’ll be any use in letting me kill him.” And the Triumbric Stones were supposed to be key to defeating Gunmar, not having a stalemate with Gunmar.

“Or is the legend just inaccurate?”

Not the most appealing thought, but now that it had occurred to him it would be stressing Jim out. What if they put all that time and energy into tracking down and cleaving the Triumbric Stones and they didn’t even turn out to do anything?

“Any time you guys wanna weigh in on this,” he hinted at the previous Trollhunters.

Jim sat on the Forge floor, leaned back against the Soothscryer, and closed his eyes. The Soothscryer dropped into the floor, sending Jim sprawling back with a yelp.

“… Very funny.”

“Jim?” AAARRRGGHH entered the Forge. His steps were slow at first, and then Jim heard him hurrying across the bridge. “Jim okay?”

“Yeah, just, aggravated.” He knocked on his breastplate beside the Amulet. “Stricklander got Gunmar’s Eye for me, and Vendel taught me how to cleave it, but I – I can’t figure out what it does. I thought it would – would make me stronger, or tougher, or give me a new weapon, but – nothing! I’ve been training for hours and, and I haven’t been able to do anything I couldn’t before, and apparently the Ghost Council wants me to figure this out on my own, so they’re no help.”

“AAARRRGGHH help,” said the bigger troll decisively. He picked up the human-shaped Changeling and plopped him on his shoulders. “Jim tired. Sore. Anger-vated. Hard to think. Need rest.”

And he started carrying Jim out of the Forge.

“… Where are we going?”

“Library. Quiet there.”

AAARRRGGHH was tall, and his fur was thick. Jim was mostly hidden by it. He wasn’t sure anyone noticed him as AAARRRGGHH walked through Trollmarket.

Why was AAARRRGGHH carrying him? Jim had been sure AAARRRGGHH no longer trusted him that much, but here he was, giving Jim easy access to his scruff, his neck, all the vulnerable spots on his back …

Inside the library, AAARRRGGHH did not shrug Jim off. He simply settled into his usual corner – a space relatively clear of shelves, so AAARRRGGHH wouldn’t block access to anything important if he dozed off – and opened one of the larger, less delicate books to where it was bookmarked.

“Rest,” he said. “Talk when ready.”

It was always sort of comical to see AAARRRGGHH reading. Even the tallest and widest volumes, books that the humans had to leave on tables and turn pages of both-handed, looked small in his hands.

Jim climbed further up AAARRRGGHH’s back to read over his shoulder. AAARRRGGHH noticed, and repositioned the book so they could both see it better.

It was one that Blinky had written. Possibly one he’d written for AAARRRGGHH, considering the dimensions. It was about Blinky’s observations of human culture. The current chapter was about different gardens Blinky had seen around human homes, identifying some plants that were beneficial or harmful to trolls, and speculating on the purpose of the others.

They read in silence for a while.

“It’s just,” said Jim, when they reached the end of the chapter, “I can’t afford to mess this up.”

AAARRRGGHH moved the flattened strip of braided leather to its new place and closed the book.

“I can’t take Gunmar in a straight fight, which leaves assassination. So if there’s a specific weapon I need to kill him for real, and nothing else is gonna work, then I have to know how to use it. And I have to get it right the first time, because I probably won’t get a second shot.”

And because, if Jim failed and Gunmar realized a Changeling was behind the assassination attempt, then all the other Changelings still trapped in the Darklands were as good as dead.

“And … and if I can’t unlock the first Triumbric Stone, what does that say about my chances with the other two? And what if I messed up cleaving the Eye, so now I can’t unlock that stone, and Gunmar’s gonna live forever and it’s my fault?”

“He won’t,” said AAARRRGGHH. “Wizards live long, age slow, but can die.”

“… I don’t suppose you know any weaknesses of his?”

“Hm … Not good at trusting, so won’t have guards to sleep.”

“Huh. You know, I honestly never realized he slept? Like, logically he has to, but I’d never thought about it. I’ve only ever seen him on his throne or leading hunting parties. If the stones really do give me a new weapon, that would probably be my best shot at him.” Jim sighed and sagged. “If.”

“Maybe stones only work with all three,” AAARRRGGHH suggested.

“That could be it. I hope so.” Jim drummed his fingers against the Amulet. “I’m going to take the Eye out and train some more without it. Just in case it’s messing with my head. Would you hold onto it for me?”

“I help.” AAARRRGGHH shrugged. Jim nearly fell off his shoulder. “But Eye very small. Might leave with Blinky instead.”

“Where is Blinky, anyway?”

“Doing errands,” said AAARRRGGHH in trollish. “Haggling takes time.”

+=+

Tobias Domzalski, ‘Toby’, age 16, sophomore student at Arcadia Oaks Public High School. Orphaned age two, raised by paternal grandmother Nancy.

Closest friend, boy from across the street, Jim Lake; no close friends besides that, though occasional mentions of friendly acquaintanceship with classmate Eli Pepperjack.

Fond of geology, video games, stage magic. Natural predisposition to showmanship.

Family history of clinical depression. Personal history of emotional eating, being mocked by peers for braces and weight. Probable fear of rejection/abandonment.

Next appointment rescheduled to earlier date for unclarified reasons, severe enough for guardian to call in at 5:30 in the morning but not severe enough for guardian to feel immediate emergency response was needed.

“Good afternoon, Toby. Come on in.”

“Hi, Doctor A.”

He wandered over to the window first. There was a tree between the building and the parking lot. She wasn’t sure which, if either, he looked at.  He sat in the squashy armchair.

Dr Tiffany Archenn had three chairs in her office besides her desk chair, with various degrees of softness. There was a well-stuffed armchair that the sitter noticeably sank into, a stiffer but still upholstered one, and a sturdy wooden armchair that patients with joint problems invariably chose because it was the easiest to get up from.

“Anything in particular you’d like to start with today?” she asked, in her cultivated gentle tone.

“Well, I’ve made some new friends.” He smiled, showing a glint of metal. “Some girls from school decided to start hanging out with me and Jimbo. One of them, Claire, had a crush on him at first, but they kept having lunch with us after he turned her down. They’re a lot of fun.”

Tiffany nodded. After centuries of practice, writing notes was like knitting for her; she no longer needed to look at what she was doing, though sometimes she did anyway if a patient was bothered by prolonged eye contact.

“What sorts of things have you been doing together?”

“Well, lunch, like I said, and Darci and I have been playing Mobile Go-Go Sushi. Sometimes we all go out and explore – uh, the trails around town, or the museum, or, like, little stores we’ve never been in before. And we’ve been … LARPing. That’s ‘live-action role play’.”

She knew that already, but she just nodded.

“It’s a fantasy game. Jim’s the most into it. He was actually doing it solo for a while before we found out, but now we’re all involved.”

‘Before we found out’. Not ‘before he told us’ or ‘invited us’. Now that was interesting.

How was Toby handling his closest friend having done something alone instead of sharing it with him, until Toby and the new additions to their social circle became involved all at once? How was he handling suddenly having to share his friend?

“Are you enjoying this game?” she asked leadingly.

“… Mostly. It can get pretty intense sometimes.”

“How do you mean?”

Toby twisted his hands in his lap. There were some fidgets on the windowsill and the side of the desk her patients sat on, but he didn’t use them often anymore.

“A couple weeks ago, we had a school play,” he said. “Claire and Mary were in it. Claire’s character died. Seeing that was like – like the stakes of, of the game, just got real. I had a nightmare that she died for real. It shook me up a lot. That’s when Nana called you.”

“I can see why that would be distressing.”

Emotional conflation was different from delusion, so this was probably not a sign that Toby was beginning to struggle with telling fiction from reality. Fearing for a friend’s wellbeing in a play or game and having that spill over into genuine concern for that friend’s safety was more likely related to Toby’s fear of abandonment.

She was surprised the fear was centred around one of the new friends rather than around his friend of longest standing, but it sounded like the death scene in the play had been the tipping point.

“Has this changed how you’ve been acting in your game?” Dr Archenn asked. “Or how you’ve interacted with your friends in general?”

“I’ve been more careful. Taken my training more seriously. I switched weapons – picked one I could actually use now instead of just the one I thought was coolest.”

“Has that helped?”

“A little.”

“Would you prefer a different game?”

“I couldn’t!” He shook his head. “Jimbo’s gonna do this with or without us – I can’t just leave him.”

Okay, now Tiffany was wondering if ‘LARPing’ was really a cover for some illegal activity these kids had stumbled into. Stupid Walter, leaving town right before she needed intel on some of his students.

“You don’t feel able to change overall aspects of this … game, only how you play?”

“… Yeah, that pretty much sums it up.”

“And you’re confident that your friends wouldn’t” – or can’t – “drop it to play something else?”

“Jim’s committed.” Tobias’ eyes widened at his own words. “I mean, he’s like, really emotionally invested in this fantasy world, you know? He’d feel really bad about giving it up. I can’t ask him to do that.”

Okay, so clearly Tobias’ friend Jim was the key to all of this. Considering the boys had been each other’s only friend for ten years, it was unlikely Tobias would be easily convinced to let go to save himself. He’d said twice in five minutes that he could not abandon Jim to whatever they were really doing, nor extract Jim from it.

She might be reading too much into this, Tiffany reminded herself. Toby might be being entirely literal, especially since he’d already volunteered so much information with so little prompting.

“Tell me some more about this game you’ve been playing.”

“Uh … well … it kind of started as Jim trying to write a fantasy novel, I think. He’s, like, this destined hero, a magical knight chosen to defeat an evil troll king. The rest of us are, um, fellow questers who’ve joined up with him. He wants to protect us by fighting alone, but …” he trailed off.

But you don’t want to be left behind by being cut out of something your friend is investing time in? Tiffany did not suggest. It would distort the accuracy of her analysis if she put words in her patient’s mouth.

“But none of us want to give it up,” Toby settled on.

He didn’t say more. Maybe the tension between Jim and Toby was because Jim had wanted to write this story alone and resented his friends inserting themselves into the narrative? Tiffany set out another prompt.

“You mentioned you chose a new weapon recently. Do you all have weapons?”

“Yeah. I’ve got a warhammer. I had one to start with, I just, switched to a lighter one. Because, um, my character stats meant I couldn’t lift the first one yet. Jim and Mary both have swords, Claire’s got a spear, Darci has a crossbow.”

“No spellcasters in your party?”

Toby laughed nervously. “Sometimes there’s magic artifacts, but, no, no spellcasters.”

+=+

Claire got her bleach and developer out of the cupboard, adding them to the rest of her materials.

“Whatcha doin’?” Not Enrique asked her.

“Seriously? Do you have no concept of privacy? I’m in the bathroom right now!”

“You didn’t shut the door.” He tapped the join between the hardwood floor he was standing on and the bathroom tiles.

Okay, fair point, not that she’d being saying so to him.

“I’m touching up my roots.”

“I got no idea what that means.” He stood up on his back legs (or just ‘legs’? He went on all fours most of the time, like AAARRRGGHH, but most trolls Claire had seen were bipeds) and squinted past her. “You got a plant in there?”

“No, I mean my hair.” She crouched on the floor and tugged her blue streak. “It’s growing out, so I have to dye the parts that don’t have colour yet.”

Not Enrique just blinked at her. “You ��� kill your hair to change its colour? But, Ma and Pa take me with ’em to the hairdressers sometimes, and none of the stuff on the floor turns different colours.”

Claire grit her teeth at hearing him refer to her and Enrique’s parents like they were his too.

“It’s not that kind of dye. Dee-why-ee, not dee-eye-ee. It’s like a paint.” She sighed. “Look, I’ll show you.”

She pulled on her rubber gloves and separated her dyed streak from the rest of her hair with foil.

“I’m just bleaching it today. I have to do that a couple of days in a row, because it takes a while to get it light enough for the colour to show up.”

She mixed the bleach with the developer, which helped bleach to penetrate hair, and some red-gold corrector, which made it more effective on dark hair. Claire carefully painted the goop into her hair.

“In about half an hour, I’ll wash this off, and the hair it was in will be lighter brown instead of black.”

“Wild.”

“So, what, did you think some of my hair was just naturally blue?”

“Yeah? I’ve seen lots of humans around with more than one hair colour.”

“… Fair point,” she admitted. Between the people with hair streaks like her, and anyone starting to go grey, and people with fully-dyed hair whose roots were showing, not to mention how technicolour troll hair could be, he’d have no reason to suspect some human hair colours or patterns were unnatural.

Claire folded the foil around her hair and carefully clipped it so it wouldn’t slip off. She wiped out the bowl she’d mixed the bleach in using paper towels and wrapped them in a bag to throw in the trash, rather than dumping bleach down the drain. It wasn’t good for the local water table. Claire took off her gloves and tidied everything else away. She set her phone timer so she wouldn’t damage her hair by leaving the bleach in for too long.

“What was that you were saying earlier?” asked Not Enrique. “Bout the different kinds of die. Dee-why-dee-eye?”

“They’re spelled differently,” said Claire. “So if you see it written down, you can tell which kind somebody means. It’s called a homophone when a word’s like that,” she remembered from an elementary school grammar class on the different kinds of words.

Claire left the bathroom. “Come on.” She went to their – her – mother’s home office, and took a sheet of paper and a pen. She wrote ‘die’ and ‘dye’ on the paper and handed it to Not Enrique, who held the page upside down. “Other way up. See the difference?”

He flipped the page. “Which one’s for hair and which is for killing?”

“D-Y-E is for recolouring stuff. It’s not just hair, you can do with cloth too.”

He pointed at the correct word. “That one’s the Y? Like in the alphabet videos.”

“Yeah. You know what?” Claire decided. “I’m gonna teach you to read. I know, I know, you’re picking it up,” seeing his insulted look, “but you’ll learn faster with a teacher.”

“You just wanna use me to spell-check the trollish homework Blinkous gives you.”

“Like you’d be useful for that when I’m the one teaching you.”

+=+

Previous Chapter (Jim gets and cleaves the Eye of Gunmar)

Table of Contents

Next Chapter (Visiting the Quagawumps to ask for the Killstone)

I learned how to dye hair streaks for this chapter! I’ve been thinking about doing them in my hair for a long time but never bothered because my hair’s really dark brown and all the bleaching sounded like a nuisance. Now that I’ve looked into how it’s done, it still sounds like a nuisance, but I might try it.

Dr Archenn does not suspect Toby knows about real trolls yet, because ‘fighting an evil troll’ is pretty standard fantasy fodder. Even if he’d mentioned Jim being ‘the Trollhunter’, that sounds like a generic term, so she wouldn’t get truly suspicious without further evidence. If he’d mentioned Gunmar by name, on the other hand, that would have been enough for her to call in some favours and put this kid under surveillance.

So, how about Wizards, huh? Deya’s portrayal gave me a bunch of ideas for her portrayal in this fic! Since I am not going with the idea of her being the first Trollhunter, I’ve also developed a whole bunch of backstory that will be revealed later about the Trollhunter job’s origins in this timeline. I’ll be sticking with some plans I already had as to the timing and motives of Morgana inventing Changelings.

[eidolonlathi]

About the war arc and More Importantly, about Zetsu

Once in a while I come across a reminder that initially the Akatsuki were planned to be full scale monsters and instantly feel glad this concept got dropped. What we've got with making them humans possessing strong monstrous traits was already more than enough: It’s already a contradiction the writing wants to show since most earliest chapters that the ninja system is flawed -because it goes against basic human nature- just to backpedal once stakes rise by literally robbing the newly arriving antagonists parts of their humanity.

It was a convenient device to keep the main characters' hands clean, but grew downright bizarre once the war arc had arrived and instead of showing a conflict based in the flaws the ninja system held, we got the "good guys" going against a mass consisting of nothing but zombies and plant blobs. Letting popular old characters return as zombies more often than not ended up cheapening the impact they've had when still alive, in some cases even retconning the entire point their character and death had held. (Sasori not being allowed to hold on to the grudges that had ruled the better part of his life? Due to some off-brand talk-no-justsu that was not even delivered by the orange ninja messiah himself? Really?)

And don’t get me started on the entire mess that were the Zetsu clones. After the Immortals arc it had already become more than obvious that whatever backstory had been planned out for Zetsu was going to be retconned, but not even allowing Zetsu to be human anymore? Certainly one way to avoid all the uncomfortable questions a character like his was raising.

With this point I’m biased, I admit: It’s an odd experience, having Zetsu as one of your faves and seeing how his characterization developed (declined) while the manga was still ongoing.

Looking at his introduction panel, it was implied he was a missing nin from hidden grass, the forehead plate with the crossed out village symbol recognizable enough around his neck. Then the story goes on and you get crumbs of information, like the fact he’s having the habit of disposing of some of Akatsuki’s targets by eating them. And then the story keeps going and you keep witnessing how his mind is very obviously split into two parts. And you see this and think, alright, that’s actually a nice way of “show, don’t tell”. How here the writing is showing what outlandish tasks the ninja system keeps demanding of its people, and the effect committing these atrocities can have on their minds: Another example enforcing the early theme of the manga that demanding people to act as nothing but human weapons while shaming them for showing emotion is just not going to work out in the long run and is doomed to create conflict.

And then part two keeps going on and with the introduction of Sasuke’s new teammate Jugo you get a second character whose mind got split into two due to the strain the ninja way of life was putting on this individual. And you think, yes, that’s a nice kind of parallel, showing like this that certain main themes in the story keep returning and stay consistent, and don’t even need to be addressed directly, instead allowing to have their own quiet impact.

And it’s things like these still making you wanting to continue reading this manga, even though, by the time Taka/Hebi are getting focus, the writing has already become frustrating in some parts. But some of your faves are still part of the story and you want to know what will happen to them, so you keep reading. And the further you read, the more you see patterns you don’t like that much. Like the by now familiar formula of an antagonist getting a sob story through flashbacks, the information often not ringing true with what we’ve seen of them this far, usually shortly before they’re made to leave the manga for good. And you look at Zetsu, who is still one of your favourites, and think, thank god that this one doesn’t have to shoulder one of those too convenient sob stories. Compared to those you prefer the more subtle writing of using present-timeline behaviour of an individual and parallels to similar characters to imply what the individual in question has been through in the past. It seems to fit so much better in this specific case anyway: You have problems to imagine how a flashback serving yet another sob story is supposed to work here. For Zetsu, who is so unapologetic about his less flattering habits like eating his targets, who doesn’t bother trying to hide that somewhere along the way his mind got split into two, who never was looking for understanding or sympathy for himself when interacting with other people to begin with.

Since his introduction your fave has been a side character, but you’re content with the few panels you get of him from time to time. Like him admitting towards Kakuzu and Hidan that he believes that ultimately everyone is alone and one can only rely on themselves: Thus admitting the feeling of alienation and detachement he ultimatively experiences when interacting with the world. (In the same scene getting the revelation what for Kakuzu and Hidan is most important in life, Jashin-sama, respectively the security of money. Another example the writing can still deliver some solid scenes if it only tries.)

Hanging-with-the-bros-and-opening-up-to-them-time.

Or like him getting visibly upset that one time he got called a slur by Naruto (aloe vera, really…), so upset that the stricter side of Zetsu needed to calm the other side down, the character visibly shaken by the incident: Implying Naruto’s behaviour of throwing slurs against Zetsu’s unconventional outer appearance was not upsetting because it was a one-time-occurrence in this moment, but the apathetic reaction of Zetsu’s stricter part indicating it’s a type of reaction he’d come across often and is too familiar with at this point in time.

Rude. Very rude. I’d be shocked if it wasn’t that in character for our orange messiah.

Scenes like these are the kind of “show, don’t tell” moments that in your opinion say more about a character’s inner life than any sloppily tacked on tear jerker story. Or so you thought.

You’re already resigned to the fact that the war arc is getting worse with every new chapter and are asking yourself if keeping to read this mess is really worth it. But your fave is still in it, and you’re still asking yourself what might be up with these panels that indicate why it's actually Zetsu holding some authority over Tobi. The manga keeps droppings hints and you believe it will be explained how and why all of this is supposed to make any sense.

And then goes the manga: “Plant blob and void make creepy plant man!” The story decides that every hint it bothered to insert about Zetsu is no longer supposed to count. Gone are the indications of a picture that ultimately had always shown him as yet another human mind trying to find ways to cope with the atrocities the ninja system is demanding from its followers. The writing now wants you to believe he had been a full-scale monster all along, something about plant clones merging with a spirit of malevolence, something about surprise aliens from the moon.

It doesn’t make sense with what has been shown before, but you guess declaring a character aligned with uncomfortable issues such as a split mind and cannibalism to be a literal monster is more convenient than dealing with the question of humanity in these circumstances. Plus: Sympathetic backstories are given to the characters with wider audience appeal, and your fave has never been remotely popular, not even when the series was still ongoing.

Years later you remember the Akatsuki started out as the concept of a group of actual monsters. You feel like you’d should have seen the signs pointing to a disappointing ending much sooner: Something about how declaring it’s a story about the conflicts of human nature sounds great, but when it gets serious we’d better keep the hands of our main characters clean by letting them fight only against beings that can get dehumanized and conveniently get called monsters.

[kimtanathegeek]

Two Brothers, Many Paths - Ch 28

*sighs* Well...we had to get here someday....

Thanks for reading! :)

—

Undertale copyright Toby Fox

Story and original characters by me, Kimtana

Please do not use without both permission and credit.  

Read below, or read it on AO3 here.  

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Sans was in an absolute panic.

He had to use every ounce of sense within him to resist the urge to dive over the waterfall after Papyrus. He pulled himself back from the edge, shaking violently and hyperventilating. Tears fell from his eyes like the waters down the falls as he paced back and forth, trying to bring his reeling mind back so he could think.

He didn’t want to believe that Papyrus was gone. But he’d seen him disappear into the darkness.

He couldn’t believe his brother was gone. It was all his fault.

Sans came to a sudden halt. He gripped his skull, shut his eyes tight, doubled over, and screamed in anguish from the very bottom of his soul until his lungs were empty of all air.

He stood back up, his throat throbbing, his vision blurry, gasping for breath, and rushed to the edge.

No. He’s not gone. He’s not dead. He can’t be.

He staggered to the very edge, tears falling from his face into the void below. Then he wiped his tears and narrowed his eyes as he clenched his teeth, throwing any thought that his brother was dead into the wind. He raised his left hand and made a series of twelve bone platforms down the cliff face near the waterfall, each a few feet below the other and sat down on the top one.

I’m coming, Papyrus. I’m going to find you. Just hang on. Please hang on.

A sob escaped his torn throat. He made the platform he was sitting on disappear, causing him to fall down to the next one with a thump. He made the next one disappear, and fell to the one below that. He kept descending like this, the only way he could think of other than jumping blindly as his heart so desperately wanted him to do.

As he reached the end of the platforms, he created a dozen more. His body was hurting from landing on the bones after each fall, but he didn’t care. He descended rapidly, his platform creation and removal becoming so automatic, he barely needed to concentrate.

Eventually he had gone down the cliff so far that he, too, was enveloped in darkness. He created a blue bone and tossed it down, watching it fall into the void until it suddenly disappeared.

He kept going.

Another dozen platforms made, another dozen removed. He created and dropped another blue bone, watching it plummet. This time, the bone illuminated a body of water under it before splashing in, sinking into the depths and out of sight.

It’s not bottomless! Sans gasped, the first spark of hope igniting in his soul.

He removed the remaining platforms, one by one, falling onto each subsequent one, then let himself freefall after he made the last platform disappear. He fell through the darkness a short distance before suddenly hitting the surface of the water, submerging in the watery void. He opened his eyes, but it was as if they were closed, the darkness was so total.

He swam to the top, breaking through the surface, gasping and coughing. He bobbed in the water, utterly exhausted from his panic. He created another blue bone under water and raised it up above his head, looking around.

It was difficult to see anything in the pitch-dark, but the blue-white light reflected off the water, allowing him to see shadows in the bone’s light. The body of water he was treading was large, but he couldn’t see where the edges were in the darkness. There were formations all around, like tiny islands, rising up around the area.

He swam, one-armed, towards one of the formations, holding up the bone with his other hand as he cried out.

“Papyrus! Papyrus!!!”

His voice was drowned out by the cacophonous waterfalls surrounding the area and the pounding in his head from his anxiety.

Sans pulled himself out of the water, collapsing on the ground from overexertion. He was shivering uncontrollably from the chill and his increasing panic, the blue bone’s light shaking as it illuminated the island. He struggled to stand, his legs and knees shaking terribly.

The land wasn’t made of soil or mud, but of things. Broken wooden items, useless weapons, soggy fabrics, and various, rotting substances that Sans couldn’t identify, all piled up in the huge mound he was standing on. He covered his nose from the horrific stench as his eyes darted around, looking for his brother.

When he didn’t find him on the island, he flung the blue bone over to the next island and jumped into the water, swimming frantically to it. The second island was the same as the first—a mound of broken, decaying refuse. Once again, he searched the small mound for Papyrus, then tossed the blue bone to the next island with a strained grunt.

When the bone landed, Sans gasped. In the blue-white light was his little brother’s body, his head and chest on the bank of the mound, his pelvis and legs bobbing in the waters.

“Pap!!!”

Sans dove into the water and swam urgently to the mound, the rush of determination shoving aside his weariness. He pulled himself out of the water, a sob tearing from his chest as he looked at his brother, motionless on his stomach, his head at an awkward angle, with the tail of his drenched red scarf plastered to his back.

Sans carefully turned him onto his back and pulled him up so that he was no longer in the waters that had stolen him. He fell to his knees and put his ear to his brother’s mouth. He felt nothing against the side of his skull, a sickening feeling growing in his stomach.

Immediately, Sans sat on the ground with his legs out straight and pulled his brother up against him as he bent both knees slightly, digging his bare heels into the debris. He laid Papyrus down over his legs so that his ribcage was against his knees, his head facing downward, and started pounding his spine where it met his ribcage in short, hard, upward thumps with his hands, fingers interlaced.

“C’mon, Pap,” he sobbed, trying to keep his panic down while he performed the maneuver his parents had taught him—lessons for an emergency, such as this.

Papyrus’ soaked body moved only when struck, not responding, as the terror gripped Sans’ soul. Still, he continued, straining to count in between movements.

After several moments of striking his upper back, water trickled out of the little skeleton’s jaws, then he started coughing up water. Sans cried tears of joy as he continued thumping his brother’s back until the coughs were dry.

“That’s it,” Sans coaxed, tears flowing down his face. “Get it up. Get it all up....”

Papyrus coughed and gasped for air, then began crying loudly. Sans lowered his knees as he turned his brother over, pulling him up to embrace him, rocking him gently and gratefully.

“I’m here, Papyrus,” he wept into his brother’s shoulder as his brother cried uncontrollably. “It’s ok. You’re ok. You’re ok now.”

Papyrus’ wailing didn’t cease, which concerned Sans. He raised his knees up tight so he could lean his brother against them.

“Pap, what’s wrong?” Sans asked, his eyebrows furrowed in worry.

“Hurts....” his brother sobbed, his eyes shut tightly. His face was contorted in agony.

Sans’ eyes searched for any visible injuries, but the little skeleton’s clothes covered most of his bones.

“Where, Pap?” Sans asked urgently. “Where does it hurt?”

“It hurts!” His cry was more high-pitched, filled with pain.

Sans pulled up his brother’s shirt carefully, and winced at what he saw. One of his ribs had broken off and was missing, while another was cracked. The lower part of his vertebrae, just above his pelvis, was slightly fractured.

He gently pulled the scarf around his neck loose, which caused Papyrus to emit a bloodcurdling scream, making Sans flinch in sympathy. He tugged cautiously at the collar of his brother’s shirt and saw that his collarbone was broken, and—most alarmingly—two of his cervical vertebrae were badly fractured.

“Oh, Pap...,” he breathed concernedly.

He checked his brother’s arms and legs, which were unscathed. Papyrus was still crying out in pain, breaking Sans’ heart.

“It’s all right,” he said, stroking the side of his brother’s head soothingly. “As soon as you eat, you’ll feel much better. Let’s get back up there and out of this place. Just hold on.”

He turned his brother so that he could cradle him in his arms as Papyrus screamed in pain with the movement. Sans shushed him gently, his brother unable to hear him through his tortured screams, as he carefully rose to his feet. He held Papyrus tightly, shut his eyes, and took a step.

Nothing happened.

Sans opened his eyes, his breath caught in his throat in panic.

Why didn’t it work...?!

He closed his eyes again, pictured the pathway above, begging to be up there to the food in his bag, and took a step.

They remained on the mound.

“No,” Sans whimpered in fear. “No, no, no....”

He tried a third time, and, still, they were on the mound in the middle of nowhere.

Sans felt the panic grip his soul as his brother’s painful cries became more and more shrill. He had to get back up on that path. He had to get food into his brother urgently.

Maybe I need to be closer.... Maybe I’m too far down here.... It’s a long way down here from up there....

He looked over at the two islands he had searched before finding his brother. He figured that if he got to that first mound, he might be in better range. But he couldn’t swim, not with his brother so terribly injured. He had to be careful—one wrong move, and his brother’s fractured neck would snap, killing him. If he had thumped his brother’s back just slightly harder—the thought made him shudder horribly.

Sans knew he needed to make a bridge, so he cautiously raised his left hand as his arm helped bear the weight of his brother. But nothing happened.

“What?!” Sans breathed in shock.

He tried again—no white bones appeared.

Then the realization hit him like a slap across the face. The exhaustion he was suffering wasn’t from the ordeal. Between teleporting to the darkened area, trying to use the blue soul magic, creating and removing dozens of bone platforms, and making multiple blue bones, he had used up all his magic.

He went for his pocket to pull out the bag of dried fruit to replenish his magic so he could transport his brother to safety. His hand slipped into air as he gasped, then groaned in anguish—his jacket was still up on the pathway.

Sans stood on the mound, frozen with fear and helplessness—no magic, his critically injured brother screaming in pain in his arms, trapped in the watery darkness.

 -

 It took Sans a few moments to regain his thoughts.

Getting food into his brother was the highest priority right now. With great care, he laid his wailing brother back on the mound, rolling up the tail of his soaked scarf to pillow his head. His brother had not stopped crying, urging Sans to action quickly. Picking up the blue bone for light, he frantically searched around the mound for any sort of soil that might have mouseshroom nightlights growing in it. When he found none, he looked back at Papyrus, who was still weeping pitifully, before sticking the blue bone between his teeth and diving back into the water to search the next island.

Grasping onto the loose debris, Sans achingly pulled himself out of the water, finding another mound of discarded and rotting items. He stumbled, his body begging him to rest after depleting himself of magical and physical energy, but he refused. He held up the bone and searched the ground, his eyes scanning for anything edible.

“Please...,” he begged whatever forces were listening. “Please, give me something....”

The mound had nothing to offer, so he slipped into the water and headed to the next island, hoping to find actual ground instead of decaying refuse. Pulling himself up and out, he found yet another pile of rubbish. His soul fluttered in his chest momentarily when he saw a broken crate, filled with rotting apples.

“Just one, please,” he whispered, a whine tinging his voice, as he scrambled to get to it. “Just one....”

He picked up the crate and upended it, the rotten apples landing on the mound in a squelching, disgusting heap. He desperately ran his hands through the decayed fruit, his fingers searching for the hardness of a still-edible morsel. The entire crate’s worth was nothing but a liquified, reeking goop. Sans slammed his fists into the putrefied mess in dismayed frustration. A sob escaped his throat as panic once again clutched at him.

He picked the bone back up in his filth-covered hand, his eyes darting as they continued scanning the ground. His legs buckled, and he fell to the trash-covered ground on his hands and knees. He knew he wouldn’t last much longer like this, but he still pushed forward.

Sans returned to the water to swim to the next mound, his limbs numb in the water from cold and exhaustion. Eventually, he reached it and searched once more, found nothing, and swam to the next, repeating the motions mound after mound.

He grasped at the loose bank of yet another island of refuse, gasping and choking for air. His arms ached viciously, and his legs gave him great difficulty standing as they grew weaker. He stumbled through the debris, falling multiple times, as tears of frustration and fear for his brother blurred his already strained vision.

Then he saw it.

He had looked up briefly and thought the darkness was playing tricks on his eyes, but, squinting, he realized that there were a few faint pinpricks of light coming from an island near the one he stood on. It was hard to tell, but it sure looked like blue-white light to his tired eyes.

“Oh please...!” he rasped weakly. “Please be them....!”

Sans stuck the bone back in his teeth and dove into the water, the hope renewing his energy slightly. He swam swiftly at first, then slowed as his exhaustion weighed his limbs down. The currents pushing from the base of the waterfall right next to the mound tried to sweep his light body away, making it all the more difficult for him to reach it. He coughed as water splashed into his mouth between the bone, his desperation tearing at his soul.

At last, he arrived at the mound, coughing out water he had choked down, gasping for air as he crawled over to the flickering source of light along the bank. He ripped away pieces of wood, sodden ropes, and decayed reeds and gave a guttural sigh of joy.

Numerous rotting mouseshroom nightlights had been washed up on the mound, having found their way down the waterfall that fed the mound with its discarded cargo. Many of them were lit, their blue-white glow weak and flickering, and all of them were in a state of decay. However, much of the mushrooms were still edible around the rotting parts.

Looking around for something to carry the mushrooms in, Sans found nothing. Thinking quickly, he pulled off his soaking shirt, shivering uncontrollably with the cold as his bones from the pelvis up were exposed to the light breeze. With trembling, shaky hands, he frantically filled his shirt like a bag with as many mushrooms as could fit. He rolled the hem of his shirt to seal it, then took a nearby rope and wound it around the bundle, tying it firmly so the shirt wouldn’t open. He slung it over his back, tying the sleeves around his neck into a knot. Then he picked up the blue bone, shoved it back between his teeth, and dove into the water.

The currents were now rapidly pushing him in his favor, back towards the island on which his brother lay. Sans hoped he wasn’t too late, that his brother hadn’t shifted, causing his neck to—

Papyrus’ painful cries reached Sans’ ears as he neared the mound. Sans whimpered through his teeth and the bone, struggling to reach his injured brother with the life-saving mushrooms on his back.

Sans washed up on the bank of the mound, his body shivering violently and unwilling to move. With all the strength he could summon, he crawled over to his wailing brother and collapsed by his head, weakly pulling the knotted shirt sleeves over his own head. He pulled the bundle up to him and fumbled to untie the rope with numb fingers. The rope fell free and he tore at it to loosen, shoving his hand into the bottom of his shirt to pull out a mushroom. He tore off an edible piece and held it to his brother’s open, crying mouth.

Feeling the food at his teeth, Papyrus whimpered as he instinctually opened his mouth wider for it. Sans dropped it in, and the little skeleton barely chewed it before swallowing it with a whimper as Sans broke off another bit. Papyrus opened his mouth for more, and Sans gave him the next piece, laying his own head down on his other arm to rest. With each swallow, Papyrus’ whimpering and moaning decreased, but Sans refused to slow his feeding.

Soon, Papyrus was able to open his eyes, his awareness returning to him as the cloud of agony dissipated from his mind.

“...Sas...?” His voice was a weak croak.

“Sh-shh, P-Pap...,” Sans stammered, his teeth chattering terribly. “K-keep eat-ting....”

Sans was now shivering violently. Skeletons couldn’t handle the chill from wetness, the moisture seeping deep into their bones. Their bodies could bear the dry, frigid temperatures of the winter for long durations, but the combination of saturation in cold water and exposure in the air quickly chilled them to the bone. He knew he needed to get dried off and warm, but everything around him was waterlogged and soaking. He gritted his chattering teeth, ignoring his own discomfort for the sake of his brother’s serious injuries.

After five mushrooms, Papyrus tried to sit up, but groaned, clutching his neck.

“N-no...!” Sans begged, reaching up weakly to stop him. “D-don’t t-touch your ne—”

A green glow shone under the little skeleton’s hands. Sans watched wide eyed, mouth hung open as his brother’s clavicle and cervical vertebrae glowed in the green light, reforming before his eyes. Soon, the bones had reformed, as if nothing had happened to them. Papyrus, still sniffling and whimpering, put his hands over his lower chest. The green glow lit up his hands and ribcage under his shirt, healing his broken ribs. He then moved his hands down—leaning up slightly—to reach his lower vertebrae, healing the fractures.

This must be how he healed me, Sans thought as he watched in shock.

Having healed his major injuries, Papyrus laid back, hiccoughing tearfully from his ordeal.

Sans was still on his stomach, trembling violently as he offered his brother more of the mushroom, but Papyrus had had his fill and turned his closed jaws away from it. Sans let his hand drop weakly, and Papyrus turned his head back to face him.

“S-Sas okay...?” he asked between dry sobs.

“J-just t-tired,” his brother answered, teeth chattering loudly. “And c-c-cold. S-so c-c-old.”

Papyrus groaned painfully as he rolled over, looking at his brother through the light of the blue bone. His eyebrows raised in worry.

“Where Sas’ shirt?”

Sans weakly lifted an empty sleeve of the shirt, still filled with rotting mushrooms.

Papyrus winced as he moved closer to his trembling brother, putting his arm around Sans in an effort to keep him warm. His damp clothes made Sans shiver even more, but Sans didn’t care. He was too relieved that his brother was out of danger.

“W-we’ve g-got to g-get b-back,” Sans stammered, shaking uncontrollably. “B-but m-my m-m-magic is g-gone. I c-can’t make pl-platforms or t-take us th-there.”

“Pa do it....”

The tiny whisper made Sans lift his head weakly. “Wh-what...?”

Papyrus tilted his head and opened his eyes slightly to look at his brother. Sans could tell he was still weak from his injuries, even though they had healed.

“Pa make bones....”

Sans made a small sound of protest, but realized that it would be their only chance. They couldn’t wait for his magic to naturally replenish.

Sans looked at the rotting mushrooms spilling out of his shirt next to his head.

“P-Pap...,” he croaked. “C-can y-you eat m-more?”

Papyrus gave a weak shake of his head. “No, Sas.... Pa too full....”

Sans hesitated, unwilling to take food that should be going to heal his brother. But, deep down, he knew that if they were going to make the massive climb back up, he needed his strength.

He pulled out a mushroom and tore off an edible portion with shaky fingers, shoving it in his mouth. He kept eating, feeling his strength returning and his pain fade away slowly. After he had consumed the last of the mushrooms, he sat up, still woozy from the weakness of his magic depletion, his brother watching him through half-shut lids as he lay on his side.

Sans shook out his soaked shirt of mushroom remains and put it back on with a struggle, as the wet cloth made it difficult. He gasped sharply as the frigid fabric clung against his spine and ribcage, a loud, deep shudder forcing its way out of his lungs.

He looked over at the sheer cliff wall from where they had come, unable to see the top from their depth. There were so many waterfalls that he wasn’t sure which one Papyrus had fallen down. Recalling that he had checked a few of the islands in front of them before finding his brother, and seeing a pair of waterfalls close together like the two waterways that cut through the path near the other islands, he judged the best location for them to ascend.

Sans sighed worriedly, giving a chilled shudder. “Th-this is g-going to b-be rough, P-Pap....”

A pang of guilt cut through him, making him shut his eyes tightly and clench his teeth. If he had just eaten some dried fruit after transporting, or remembered to take some with him before going over the cliff after his brother, none of this would be happening. His brother had been suffering longer than he should have because he was too stupid to make sure his magic was in good supply. It was all his fault, if only he had just—

“Sas okay...?”

Sans opened his eyes, his breath caught in his throat as his brother’s voice startled him. He looked down at Papyrus. His brother’s eyes were wide with concern for him, his frowning face sad.

Sans put on a grin and winked at his brother. “Y-yeah, I’m f-fine. J-just pr-preparing myself f-for th-the climb. Y-you feel w-well enough t-to go?”

Papyrus nodded from where he still lay on his side. “Pa wanna go home....”

“M-me t-too,” Sans answered, getting up on his feet, his body shaking terribly from the cold and magical weakness. “L-let’s go.”

He carefully picked up his brother, cradling him in his shivering arms.

“Y-you ok?” he checked.

“Yeah,” Papyrus answered, nodding. Sans noticed he looked extremely tired.

“Ok,” he whispered through chattering teeth. “W-we need a br-bridge here to th-that island.”

Papyrus turned his head to look down at the mound they were on and the one near it. He raised his right hand and four bones shot from the bank of the mound until it reached the other side, inches above the water.

“Gr-great job, P-Pap,” Sans grinned.

Sans carried his brother over the bone bridge, the currents splashing at his bare feet. The bridge was slick from the water, and the smoothness of his bony feet on the bones of the bridge made for a treacherous walk. Eventually, he made it to the other side, finally releasing the breath he didn’t know he was holding.

Papyrus raised his hand to make the bones disappear, when Sans stopped him.

“W-wait, d-don’t,” he urged. “We’ve g-got a l-long, long way t-to climb. Y-you n-n-need to c-conserve your m-magic. W-we’ll take c-care of th-these another d-day.”

Papyrus looked up at him and nodded.

Sans carried him across the mound, slipping and stumbling on the refuse under his feet that he could not see with his brother blocking his view. Papyrus whimpered as he was jostled, afraid of falling to the ground. Sans gave him a reassuring squeeze as he, himself, felt the dread of knowing they had an extremely long way to go before they were safe.

[kittysukagasterfics]

Devils In Disguise

Note: I know you just said Yandere!Sam but, I just couldn’t resist adding their yandere skeleton boyfriend. Also, this isn’t canon to the regular storyline. Anyway, onto the fic!

Handplates belongs to: @zarla-s

Requested by: @randomstuff7739

Summary: What’s equally as good as a yandere skeleton? A yandere cinnamon roll! What’s a typical day for these two yandere lovers like?

    Sam knew their relationship was based on nothing more than obsession and an empty void that needed to be filled. They could honestly care less though. The Human was more than happy to be submissive to their boyfriend’s demands, no matter how ridiculous the request may be.

     For example, Sam had been playing on their phone, minding their own business, when Gaster suddenly came up to them. He seemed calm but his voice was practically laced with anger as he demanded that Sam hand over their phone so he could, ‘make sure they weren’t talking to anyone else’. That demand alone had been ridiculous since they had no reason to have a contact other than his. However, Sam just handed over their device, no questions asked.

     But Sam wasn’t exactly innocent themselves. Everyday when the scientist came home from work, they would be impatiently waiting there, pouting about how he was late for their daily cuddle session. After Gaster explained that Alphys wanted to hang out after work, the Human had suggested that next time he should just ignore his co-worker when this happened. The skeleton actually chuckled when they told him this and  started to tease them about being so jealous about something like that. He did eventually assure them that he already knew about Alphys’ feelings for him but he would never feel the same way about her. Hearing the skeleton say that managed to calm the Human down.

     To Sam, that was all they needed in life now. Nothing else mattered. Nobody except their new family mattered. Of course, just because the two lovers thought it was normal, didn’t mean that others thought it was too. The brothers were always concerned about their dad and parental unit’s behavior and even Toby could that the relationship was a bit unhinged. But whenever they tried to question any of the two, the little skeletons would either get dismissed or given some generic excuse.

    “um, parental unit? are you and dad ok? you two are acting weird...”

    “*You tell him that you and Gaster are perfectly fine.~ You also say that it not always nice to be nosy about other peoples’ business.~”

     That response from Sam was bad enough, but his brother had been basically scolded when he asked Gaster about it.

    “WHY DO YOU ALWAYS BOSS PARENTAL UNIT AROUND? ARE THEY IN TROUBLE?”

“No, Sam would never cause me any trouble.~ Also, never ask me nonsense like that again.~ It’s rude.~”

     After multiple conversations like that, the brothers just gave up trying to make sense of it. They still found it weird and unusual but were careful not to say that in front of the two adults. Toby on the other hand, was not giving up so easily. The little pup soon made it his personal mission to get Sam away from the skeleton for as long as possible, thinking that maybe it would snap the albino out of whatever was wrong with them.

     That turned out to be an extremely bad idea as Sam was determined to never be more than one second away from their lover. They would scold Toby once they figured out what he was trying to do and shoo him away. Any attempts to gain their attention again would result in Gaster literally throwing him out of the room they were currently in and slamming the door. The poor dog had no choice but to walk away, whimpering with his tail between his legs. Neither of the two lovers ever seemed to care though.

     To them, a day was only perfect when they could be alone, cuddling tightly against one another on Gaster’s office couch. Usually they would talk about how much they loved each other and how far they would go to prove it. To add to the creepiness in the two’s conversations, Gaster had once joked to Sam by suggesting that he take them into the Underground and let the Human charm their way to every monsters’ heart, gaining their trust and friendship only to be tricked into being alone with the Human and having the scientist kill said monster without hesitation. Sam thought he was being serious though and tried to convince him to go through with the plan. The skeleton was quick to shoot down the idea though.

    “Sam, you know that would raise too much suspicion.~ Besides, with your low HP, you could easily be killed.~ Very weak.~”

    “*You huff and tell Gaster that you’re not weak.~” ‘*He shushes you by placing a bony finger against your mouth...~’

    “Now let’s not argue and get so angry, Sam.~ I managed to get the day off today so we can both just rela-”

     Before Gaster could finish his sentence, his phone that was sitting on his desk began ringing. Sam and Gaster exchanged annoyed looks as the scientist untangled himself from the small human and walked over to answer it. Sam could hear him talking, probably to Alphys. They could tell that he was trying to keep as calm as possible and not get angry with his co-worker. From what they could gather from the conversation, the lizard monster wanted the skeleton to come in and help her with an invention. The Human could feel their blood practically boil at this. After a few more minutes of talking, Gaster hung up and with an agitated sigh, picked up his bag and walked over to the door.

    “Alphys needs me to help immediately and she wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer.~”

    “*You tell him that Alphys is starting to get on your nerves.~” ‘*Gaster chuckles and plants a kiss on your forehead.’

    “I know, Sam, but don’t worry.~ I’ll be sure to bring you back a present for being good, alright?~”

     The Human perked up when they heard this. Gaster spoiling them with little gifts and sweets was nothing new, but the way he talked about the present made it sound really special. Sam started asking about what the present was but the scientist was very vague in his answer and left a frustrated Sam behind in the Lab. He knew that he would soon get many phone calls and text messages from his lover throughout his workday, but Gaster didn’t mind. That just meant that Sam was concerned about him. Like they were suppose to be.

(Later that day)

     Sam sniffed as they wiped away the tears from their eyes. Gaster had been gone for at least three hours now and they were starting to worry. It was already bad enough that they had to get up from their sobbing session on the office’s couch to make lunch for everyone, but now there was the possibility that Alphys had taken their boyfriend away from them. Their Senpai, cruelly ripped away from them, and any attempts to desperately text the skeleton for answers just lead to him not responding. There was no point in living if that was the case. If Gaster couldn’t love them, no one could.

    ‘*You start to get up from the couch when the door suddenly swings open.~’

     When the Human looked up, they let out a gasp. Gaster was standing there, deranged look on his face and holding a medium-sized gift box. Sam immediately jumped up and ran over to him, wrapping their arms tightly around his waist. The skeleton nearly fell over from the force of the hug but soon started chuckling as he ruffled the Human’s snow-white hair. Picking them up with his magic, Gaster walked over to the couch and sat down before placing his lover in his lap and handed them the gift.

    “I hope you enjoy your present, my love.~ It took a while to get it, lots of struggling and a lot of hassle.~”

     Sam excitedly took the present, carefully unwrapping it. It was a gift from their beloved, so extra caution was always needed. As soon as they got the box opened, the Human looked inside, only to see nothing but a large pile of a white and powdery substance. Sam gave Gaster a very confused look, but the scientist just kept the smile on his face, as if waiting for realization to hit.

     It only took a couple of minutes for Sam to realize what the pile was. Tears of joy began to fall down their cheeks as they hugged and kissed him. They thanked Gaster what felt like millions of time. When Sam told him that he didn’t have to do this for them, Gaster laughed and pulled his small lover into a deep kiss. After breaking away, he continue to keep a tight hold on Sam, smiling.

    “Anything for you, Sam.~ You know I would do anything for you.~”

    “*You tell him that you know, and you love it.~”

Note: Wonder what that white stuff is. I certainly don’t know. Anyway, thank you to @randomstuff7739 for the prompt and sorry if this wasn’t exactly what you were asking for. But I hope you all enjoyed reading! I love all of you! Requests are always welcomed! Stay tuned for more.

[firehedgehog]

Retconned Chapter Thirteen: Unlucky

So the plot is moving forward, this is linked to another story. and yes.. this was planned when i originally started both stories 

“The Good Sans want to have a meeting with the Dark Sans?” Goth said in surprise.

“The Retcons have rather spooked them,” Error said as he knitted.

“Well... is is a rather spooky issue,” Blue said, the rather energetic small Sans had appeared in the anti-void earlier in the day and was using the hanging strings as swings.

“How did you get here anyway, Error didn’t cough kidnap cough you today and he didn’t open any portals today?” Goth asked, after living in the anti-void so long eh became sensitive enough to feel portals open there.

“Err...” Blue said a strange look on his face.

 Flashback

 Blue was cooking his Taco’s, he was sure that this batch would be perfect.

“They smell perfect,” he said happily, putting them down to cool.

 Even better, he’d heard Cross would be busy till tomorrow so no Taco stealing Sans would get them today. He sat down to relax til he could eat them.

“Arf!”

“Noooo,” Blue cried spinning around, dropping his book.

 Sitting on the counter was annoying Dog, the white mutt that seemed to jump between multiverses on a Lark.

 A counter devoid of Tacos.

“No, bad annoying Dog, Bad!” he cried, and starting chasing the dog in wain hope to retrieve the Taco’s in whatever subspace the canine had hidden them.

“Toby.. no!” he cried.

 Then tripped.

 When he looked up, he was alone.

 And in the anti-void.

“That’s cheating!” he cried.

 Twenty minutes later Error found him.

 End Flashback.

“Ha ha ha, nothing to be concerned about,” Blue laughed.

No one wanted to ever speak of the things that dog did.

“Riiiight...” Goth said dryly.

OoOoO

The room was enormous and over crowded, people giving some of there neighbours nervous looks.

There hadn’t been such a huge gathering.. well ever.

Dark, Light.. neutral.

Beings of as many AU’s as could come.

It was a freaking zoo.

There were quite a few nervous glances towards the very front off to the left, for there were a lot of the Sanses known as the big bad’s.

Including the destroyer.

For Error and Nightmare to be there, along with Nightmares crew something had to be up.

Silence filled the area as Ink and Dream walked onto the stage.

“From your silence, by now you’ve realized this is a serious issue,” Dream said placing his notes on the podium.

“For the last several years, there have been thousands of AU’s destroyed. Yet not by the destroyer,” Dream said, that set off whispering of disbelief. “Part of it you might have coem across, the fact no one can actually what these destroyed AU’s were, or suddenly you feel as if something or someone is missing.”

There was a very deep silence at that.

“We have discovered the cause, its called Retcons. It erases Au’s people.. everything it touches. There has been only one true survivor, and only Error’s anti-void kept them alive. I escaped being retconned because of that person, but it still cost me several minutes of memory,” Dream said.

Hidden between Error and Nightmare Goth sighed, after being in pretty much isolation for years in the anti-void many people made him nervous.

“Each of you find packets under you seats, the survivor’s name is not on it before you ask and will not be released. I ask you to reach out with bit of information you may have or come across, All the information as little as we have is in it. Thank you,” Dream said, and left the podium.

Goth felt deep relief his name would not be released.

He had enough nightmares of people demanded while he existed why another didn’t.

“Let’s get out of here kid,” Error said patting hsi shoulder Goth nodded and gripped his lantern tighter.

That’s when the roof came off.

Literally.

OoOoO

 Perfect!

 Just perfect!

 So many of them together!

 Even the one that escaped.

 Without that one, bits and pieces that they couldn’t retcon would be erased.

 They’d wipe more then half the multiverse in seconds.

“Then they will be gone, just like you brother,” he laughed.

OoOoO

The multiverse must have a sense of irony.

That was what Geno thought as arcs of purple lightning began to bleed into the world, anything ht was just gone.

The ceiling was just gone, revealing a black sky.

Monsters or humans it hit, were just gone.

This was a Retcon.

He was pretty sure, that the only reason that they remembered those lost was that they were in the midst of the event.

Screams surrounded him, as people tried to escape causing injuries to others as they trampled them in there panic. Portals and Shortcuts didn’t seem to work, so this situation didn’t look good.

“This is all your fault,” a Sans screamed at the destroyer, who hadn’t escaped either.

“Your a nimrod,” Error said, the sans would have attacked but more screaming caught those nearbys attention.

“Please, let me go,” A child’s voice cried.

“Were all going die, give me the freaking lantern,” a voice snarled.

Geno spun around and ran, the Sans didn’t have a moment to prepare and Geno slapped him away from Goth.

“Are you okay Gothy?” Geno asked, the nickname slipping from his mouth to his surprised.

Goth broke down in tears, Geno grabbed Goth into a hug.

This was his child, he might not remember but this was his kid.

“I.. don’t want to be retconned again,” Goth cried.

“Shh.. we’ll figure this out, your papa always has a plan,” Geno whispered.

Suddenly he flying back, shocked as Goth violently threw him backwards.

The world seemed to go quiet and frozen to Geno, his hand out reached towards Goth.

Goth smiled.

“I love you,” Goth said.

Lightning hit.

Geno screamed as the lantern fell to the ground.

Shattered.

OoOoO

Goth stumbled and fell, cold sand under him made him more aware.

He’d been retconned.

Again.

But shouldn’t he be non existent?

Wincing he slowly got up, noting he was lacking his save lantern but he didn’t feel that time limit eh did usually.

“Where am I?” he asked outloud.

The sky was darker then black, the only bits of light were purple lightning which was signs of being retconned. Where ever he was, it was also gone, except for this small space of sand.

And a statue.

...

“Palette,” he screamed, recognizing the statue.

“No no no,” he cried.

“Oh...” he said freezing, as one of his many selves memories came forward.

He wasn’t just Goth, he was teh Goth’s of this multiverse also.. a multiverse fully Retconned except for this one spot.

Now he could feel it, a tiny shard of soul.. a piece of his soul.

“We have to wake you up,” he whispered.

OoOoO

“Please please wake up,” a voice begged.

He hurt, so badly...

“Come on, I know your alive... I need you to help me reverse this!” the voice begged, it was a child’s voice and familiar.

Wait that Voice!

That was Goth’s voice.

He gave a gasp as something shattered around him, and he fell to the ground.

Woozily he looked up, he could see shards of Stone on Sand.

“Goth?” he asked his voice raspy.

Wait.. the clothing were wrong.

“Sorry, call me Retconned,” the Goth whispered.

Palette fell unconscious, from the stress of breaking free from being turned to stone.

OoOoO

When Palette woke again, it was to the thought that it was too dark.

Slowly he shifted til he could see the Goth called Retconned, who was curled in a ball on the sand tear track down there face.

It was then that he realized that something was seriously wrong.

The sky was pitch black... with purple lightning arcing across it, but there was no sound and he could only see about five feet away from himself and Retconned.

“Its called a Retcon, when your AU or multiverse is erased from everything even living memories,” a soft voice sad, turning he saw that Retconned had woken.

“My... multiverse got Retconned? But how am I still here! Wherever this is that is.... and how are you here?” Palette asked panicked, e couldn’t save Gothy if Gothy didn’t exist.

“Two things saved you, you being sealed in stone and this,” Retconned said, gently opening his hand. Palette made a strangled sound, as a speck of glowing soul was revealed.

“How... I thought that weird Alternate o me stole all of Goth’s soul shards,” he said in disbelief.

“He loves you very much, you never did check your own soul for a speck,” Retconned sighed.

“That idiot,” he cried, even now Goth was protecting him.

“As to how I got here, I’m from the multiverse right next to this one. The retcon hasn’t swallowed all of it, but apparently it finally got me. Originally all the Goth’s got Retconned in my multiverse at the same time yours did, but I survived... you could say in simple terms I’m all the Goth’s,” Goth sighed, and explained his situation and the function of the save lantern.

“Wait... are the Goth’s of my multiverse there too?” Palette asked quickly, Retconned blushed heavily and Palette felt relief. “Than there is still hope, I still exist... and your still here even though you said your not. Then lets fix this!” Palette said jumping to his feet.

“I don’t know how to fix it, the save lantern that kept me stable is missing and I’m in the wrong multiverse...” Retconned said unhappily.

“Since your the Goth’s of both multiverses maybe you can slide back over and we can smash the source of the Retcons!” Palette said excitedly.

“I can try,” Retconned said frowning.

“Ah... before we try anything, do you have any idea how i got turned into a stone statue?”Palette asked embarrassed.

“From my memories here, just as you went to leave Nightmare Pallette reappeared as apparently he never left. Using the apples curse he sealed you away. I’m afraid at that moment the retcons hit, the sealing and the soul shard somehow slightly moved you a bit out of phase keeping the retcon from you,” Retconned replied. After all his Goth was part of him, and was still connected to the soul shard.

“Thanks...” he said, he wasn’t happy that his.. multiverse was just gone with only himself and his Goth amalgamated into Retconned to remember it.

“Well, lets try this,” Retconned said with a sad smile.

“No try, do,” Palette said grinning.

Retconned laughed, and then they were gone.

Seconds later the spot they were in was Retconned, no longer phased away from the rest of the multiverse. And thus The Shatter multiverse appears

[jq37]

Let's go final bloodkeep ep breakdown!

**spoilers for the tomb of ultimate evil**

I was originally kind of annoyed that dropout wasn’t working when I wanted to do this originally, but it’s actually kind of a blessing in disguise now that I think about it because it means I get to rewatch and discuss the ep in light of the bombshells Brennan dropping in the BTS video.

As I watch the Previouslies, I realize I’m still not over the fact that Maggie named her kid after Leiland. It was so sweet an unexpected. 

So, at the start of this episode, Brennan must have realized that his plans are pretty much jossed because the 4 baby blessing was *very* not on the docket  

“Absolutely, Lilith’s got 25 strength.” Idk why that’s so funny to me. Maybe because I think Rekha was asking whether Lilith was allowed to carry her, not if she was physically cable but Brennan was like “Of course she can carry you. She’s an absolute unit.”

Leiland’s first move? Drawing all the enemy fire. Markus’s first move? Immediately hiding. In fairness, my dude is a rogue.

Lol, spiderweb baby bjorn.

“We’re evil but we understand communication and consent.”

Nat 20 from Old Pickering! Finally he’s useful!

Watch a bitch call lightning! A different bitch, but still.

Amy’s childish delight at the prospect that there might be a bomb in the goblins is so good.

I love how on board everyone was for the mystery potion.

Did Hork exist before this episode? I have no memory of him existing.

Nat 20 for Sohkbar!

Brennan is really so good at all of his on the cuff J'er'em'ih nonsense.

Erika yelling, “Sanctuary!” a la Hunchback of Notre Dame.

I like that Lilith calls her spider kids to defend them by going, “Get ‘em ladies!” and then Brennan decides one of the kids she summoned is Jason.

“I really am sorry. I’m sorry for everything I’ve done…and everything I’m about to do.”

Leiland Jr. MVP!

I love that Lilith treat’s Sohkbar as if he’s also a parent.

Two words I’ve learned to fear since I’ve started watching RPG shows: Lair action.

Leiland just BARELY not being on the falling chunk of floor.

Brennan really faked me out on that Jason fall. Man really was about to make me cry over a fictional spider for the SECOND TIME in my life (Charlotte’s Web).

I love Erika screaming over Jason in and out of character separately.

“Guys, this is our element! Knocking people off of things!”

Leiland’s affirmations. Who is doing counseling at the Bloodkeep.

AOE spells are so boss.

“Everyone look at Leiland! He’s doing it!” Aww, everyone finally gets to see him be cool! It’s really wild how much of an arc these guys went through in just 2 days of play. It’s very narratively consistent.

“Oh you fucking freak, you’d love that.”

“Tell him something is gonna happen to his bones but don’t explain it.”

Rekha loudly announcing her ridic amount of hitpoints is on of my fave things

I love how in both campaigns so far, Brennan has had a moment of, “You’re not bad at magic, you’re just depressed.” What an oddly specific thing but also, relateable.

Cell Block Tango ft. Leiland.

Leiland curses one of the Vingury. I’m sure that won’t be important later (I’m lying).

Ify/Markus just refusing to learn Hobbert and Frod’s names.

 Ify: *Trying to do a shenanigan*

Brennan: I see what’s happening here.

DOOR LORE. DOOR LORE. DOOR LORE.

So I guess the real lesson of this season of D20 is always commit to your running jokes because you’ll get free nonsense out of it. (A 19! That’s so painful!)

Jessa just straight eats not-Gollum.

Both Jason and Jessa are very protective of their mom and I love it.

Maggie All elves look the same. (Maggie said F elf rights)

The full 6 seconds of silence from Matt between his saying  he loves J'er'em'ih more than any other animal companion and looking directly at the camera and saying, “Except for Trinket,” very seriously.

Amy: I must become the necro boatman.

Brennan, whose plans have now been entirely womped: :O.

I truly didn’t even consider attacking the boatman. I feel like this is such a good DM moment, because I feel like my reaction would have been, “That’s not how this works,” but Bren just let it happen, which is better both for the story and player agency. I’m taking notes.  

Efink getting validation on her chosen name by the evil statues.

“Kick his ass and you get the power!”

“I’m like a setpiece, not like a guy!”

Sohkbar claims the baby as his ward. This baby is gonna have so many godparents.

“MY DAD SHIT IN A BAG?”

What a wild improv.

I love the ancient evil statues have Lilith’s back on the fact that she should have gotten the promotion.

When Leiland Jr was born Brennan was like, “He’s not gonna do much. He’s a baby.” One ep later this baby is taking turns and fireblasting enemies and talking like he’s the Godfather.

OK so there’s a lair action. Leiland rolls a NAT ONE to not plummet into the Bloodkeep. Brennan clearly is ready to bring out the ghost figurines we saw in the BTS.

The statue Lilith JUST got the blessing from falls which means if she hadn’t gotten it that turn, they would have been screwed. Sidenote: Brennan says it was an instant lose condition for them which is part of why I was surprised that this wasn’t his plan to begin with. He just readjusted everything on the fly and set new parameters. What a good, confidence projecting, quick thinking DM.

It’s Leiland’s turn. He is once again falling to his doom. This time, without the bossa nova music and soothing apathy because he actually has something to live for.

AND HE USES HIS HEX TO TELEPORT TO THE VINGURY HE HEXED BEFORE.

It was JUST close enough. And he almost cursed Olag instead! That decision saved his undead ass!

I love that Leiland is Uncle Leiland to Jason! And later Jessa calls Efink Aunt Efink.  I wanna see evil Thanksgiving so bad.

“You’re really killing it today Leiland!” My boy finally getting the praise he deserves. (Also, wild that this is all still THE SAME DAY)

“oKAY, okay, OKAY, oKay.” –Brennan having a moment

“You wanted us to play evil characters but we’re actually playing evil players.”

Man this episode is truly how Leiland got his groove back, huh?

Boatman rolls a 4 to resist fear. Go Leiland!

“I take off my mask to reveal…I’m sexy as fuck.”

Everyone including the evil statue is hot for Markus.

“Shut the fuck up, Olag. Go kill yourself.” Maggie just has no patience for nonsense (that’s not the kind of nonsense she enjoys anyway).

“Do I take psychic damage from that?”

Lilith gets a nat 20!

Maggie, upon Leiland calling her 'my queen’ for the second time: Just call me Maggie, please.

“THAT’S AN ABILITY  J'ER'EM'IH  HAS?”/“I guess.”

“Lilith, you’re my girl! Lilith, my girl!” They grab hands over the table. It’s such a pure moment.

Brennan after they kill the Boatman: I mean, fuck me I guess.

Leiland goes down. Leiland Jr. goes, “Nah, get up, you’re fine,” and he gets back up. (Brennan at this point has clearly fully leaned in to the direction his players dragged him).

Leiland comes back as Leiland the White. And I just realized! That’s the ghost figurine! I thought that was the figure Bren got for when Leiland inevitably completed his story arc. No! It was the figure for in case Leiland DIED.

Leiland FONZES at Leiland Jr.

Nat 20 from Maggie to avoid falling into the Bloodkeep!

Leiland lets Markus convince him to not kill Olag (for future shenanigans). Leiland instead owns Toby and rolls a 29 to convince Oswald back onto their side. Toby also comes as a zombie on their side. Everything’s coming up Leiland!

Except no, he goes back down immediately and falls face first into the blood pool.

OK, check it. Markus bargains with one of the evil statues to make Olag alive and undead for eternity. The statue is kinda on board but wants to make a trade. Markus basically goes, “Watch this,” and STEPS INTO THE VOID.

Go back and watch Amy’s reaction. It’s so genuinely shocked and concerned. Matt’s is good too.

Sidenote: That is apropos of nothing goal wise. He just wanted to torture Olag.

Maggie gets the final blessing with a quiet, heartfelt speech Brennan doesn’t even make her roll for. The statue tries to get her to put in a good word w/ her dad for it and steps all over the moment.

Ify, about to pull out shenanigans part two, electric boogaloo: I never got a chance to attack on my turn.

He attacks himself and warps back up!

Amy: Is that how you play a rogue????

Why sneak attack damage? Can you sneak attack yourself?

“You’re a liar!”/“I’m a rogue.” Beautiful.

We’re evil!

Oswald dies and Leiland comes back! Hexing Oswald really panned out for him

“It’s all spiders from here!” I wanna start saying that.

Efink cancels out a nat 20 on Sohkbar!

Lilith telling her kids to go find safety is a small thing but sweet.

“You know you live near Goblin Island and you always say you’re gonna visit.”

Markus swashbuckles over to the bloodkeep before he falls. Leiland is ready to jump his bones.

Nat 20 from Leiland! Is that his first one?

AND THEN HE ROLLS TWO NAT ONES!

Classic Leiland.

I love that Leiland is pro J'er'em'ih now.

John Feathers comes back for the epilogue. Rehka is more excited than anyone.

Lilith is voted queen regent of Gorgar! Go girl! And Jessa opens her fashion firm while Jason sets out to the forest. Good for them.

Scream beast babies!

And little Leiland asks big Leiland to get him the head of Galfast Hamhead! Full circle, I love it.

OK so Brennan said this and he was right. Leiland and Maggie have such a wild ass arc. She goes being “that whore” in ep 1 (idr what he actually called her but that’s the vibe he gave off) to “my queen” in episode 6. And like, man. Imagine planning a game where the goal is to lead the players into a PvP free for all and, instead, the only two characters with a legit grievance mend fences so much that one names their child after the other and that one swears fealty to that mom and her child. Imagine failing so hard at your original goal. Wow.

Anyway, that’s it for Bloodkeep! Thanks for hanging in there for me to write this up! I want to say something about the teaser for T.U.S. too but I’ll save that for another post. 

Sidenote: So Matt has been on D20 and Brennan has been on Naddpod. I think this means Brennan or Murph gets to be on Critical Role now. I’m a lawyer and I’m pretty sure that’s how the law works. 

[hattale-au]

HatTale: Chapter 3

[Also on AO3!]

Happy two-month birthday HatTale!

Standard Disclaimer: None of us own Undertale or A Hat In Time, they belong to Toby Fox and Gears For Breakfast respectively.

–

All was darkness.

   And then it wasn’t.

  The girl found herself standing on the steps leading to an ornate stone archway. She glanced down and tapped the ground with her foot. It made no noise. She tried to think aloud, but no words came. The silence was literally deafening.

She looked forward to the archway. A small light gleamed in the distance beyond.

Will you Continue? It murmured.

She turned around. The endless void stretched out as far as the eye could see. As she stared, the darkness grew, getting dark, darker, yet darker still.

Or will you give up and Quit? It whispered.

  She gave a stiff smile and stepped through the archway.

  --

  The girl wasn’t sure what she was expecting when she opened her eyes, but the bright light of the sun shining off of a bed of golden flowers... well, it seemed awfully familiar…

  Wait a second, hadn't she done this before?

  She leaped to her feet and glanced around wildly. Why was she back in the golden flower cave? What was that weird void-space? That heart? Where was the murder-flower?!

"Did... Did I just die? " she thought aloud.

“... Yes?! You’re supposed to be dead! ” 

She turned around. Mask was floating in a way that would have been called pacing if he were on the ground. He kept glancing at the golden flowers, at the tunnel, at his fidgeting hands, and her. He was muttering to himself, so quickly and quietly that the girl only caught snippets like “ back here? ” and “ reset? ” and “ but he’s too much of a jerk to for anyone else. ”

She snapped her fingers and startled him out of his train of thought.

“Well, I guess…” she thought for a moment as Mask floated towards her, “I’m pretty sure I did die, but somehow I got better ?”

“. ..I guess that’s one way to put it, ” he grumbled.

She bent down to retrieve her stick, “How’s about we keep going?”

The ghost gave her an incredulous stare, “ You just died and came back, and your first course of action is to just casually continue on? ”

She shrugged and pulled back a sleeve. There were no injuries in sight (but in mind was a different story). “I mean, it doesn’t hurt or anything, it’s almost like it never happened?”

Mask tensed at that, but the girl didn’t notice.

“So… if the universe wants to forgive and forget, then meh,” she turned towards the tunnel and started walking, “so can I.”

  --

  They returned to the murder-flower-room. It was noticeably lacking in magic-traps (they both checked thoroughly before going in) but was abundant in purple murder-flowers. And by that, just the one looking quite dazed and confused and was that just a bit of fear on his face?

" ... what just- "

The flower only got to say those two words before the girl abruptly cut him off with a stick to the face.

He gave a very not intimidating yelp before vanishing. The girl poked the loose dirt with the (now pollen covered) stick. Who knew sentient murder flowers could burrow? 

The ghost floated down and poked his head through the ground, then came back up and shrugged, “ well… I suppose that was one way to get rid of him. ”

She grinned- well, more like grimaced, “Mmmm, I jus’ hit him first . That’s usually a pretty good way to win a fight.” she tapped her stick against the ground, then started jabbing it when the pollen just wouldn’t come off-!

“ I’m just going to ignore what you may or may not be implying there... ”

She whacked it harder against the ground because dammit she was not going to dirty her sweater with this weird super-glue pollen!

“ Though taking the initiative will be very important later on in the Underground. Most monsters let you take the first move just on their own, however... ”

 His words trailed off, and though the girl couldn’t see his face, she could sense an extreme amount of almost… fear coming from him?

Then she heard it, the footsteps.

Deciding to not risk getting killed by another monster, she whipped around with her stick brandished and ready to hit someone.

Although, as soon as she caught sight of the approaching monster, she found it a lot harder to stay in ready-to-ass-kick mode.

They were a big, almost cartoonish, tabby cat walking towards them. To be fair, they were only a little taller than she was, but that was still huge for a cat. Also, they had an adorable and tall chef’s hat on and that combined with their cute and casually fancy robes and generally cartoonish and friendly demeanor meant that the girl’s guard had been pretty thoroughly dropped in favor of  C A T ! ! ! ! ! ! (Mask had also relaxed, which she took as a good sign).

They stopped in front of her, “Oh! Are you alright?”

The girl shrugged, but internally was making the biggest awwwwwwww she could because that accent just made it all the CUTER-!

The cat frowned and held a paw to her face in worried thought, “Well, you’re probably pretty lost and confused from the fall. But never fear, for Cookie is here!” the Cat monster struck an exaggerated pose, and the girl laughed. Mask laughed too, but his seemed a lot more… quiet. The cat peeked an eye open and smiled. Getting the girl to loosen up and laugh was probably their intent from the start.

“Alright, now that you aren’t about to hit me with that ,” she pointed at the girl’s stick, which was now loosely hanging from her hands. She smiled sheepishly. “I can help you.”

The girl hesitated, then looked up at Mask. He still looked a little… off, but he gave her a nod. 

She looked back towards the cat… no wait, Cookie, “ suuuure? Uh, you aren’t going to kill us, are you?”

They looked almost scandalized, “Of course not! I have never and would never hurt a hair on a child’s head!”

The girl just gave a dead-pan thumbs up, “coolio, now how do I get this off my stick?” feckin pollen …

“Ah, here,” the cat walked over and held out a paw (which looked so damn soft, wow ) that the girl put her stick in. They rooted around in their robes many pockets for a bit, and then pulled out a cute handkerchief and used it to wipe all the pollen away. The girl died a little inside at seeing the probably well-loved and painstakingly-embroidered fabric stained within an inch of its life.

“There, how’s that?”

The girl took her mostly-de-pollened stick back. “Um… thank you, but my stick isn’t really worth all that.” she pointed at the handkerchief, and in response, the cat laughed.

“Oh, well, don’t you worry about this old thing,” Cookie held up the cloth, and now the girl could see that the embroidery depicted a lot of cats, skulls, and was covered in green and blue bows. Well, she assumed they were green and blue, as now everything on it was far closer to a deep purple than anything. “The whole point of a kerchief is to clean things, and I’m sure that my friend won’t mind that I got it a little dirty.”

Mask snorted and glanced away, but she had already caught the smile on his face.

Cookie looked a little surprised and maybe sad, but then she was smiling again and walking off, “Well, I suppose we should get going. Come along now, Kitten!”

“ ‘Kitten?’ what a dumb nickname. ” Mask teased as he trailed behind her.

The girl gave him an unimpressed stare, “ you called me ‘Shrimpy’, you don’t get to judge.”

He shrugged, “ fair enough. ”

The girl didn’t notice that Cookie had stopped until she had bumped right into them. 

“Ah, sorry!” the girl took a few big steps back.

The cat’s frown turned into a small smile, “Oh, don’t you worry, Kitten, it’s fine.”

The girl hummed and then asked, “why’re we stopping?”

“Oh, no reason. I just got lost in thought.” Cookie turned back around and continued walking.

The girl was torn. Curiosity weighing with common decency. She wanted to ask the cat what she was thinking about, but also wasn’t sure if that’d be rude, or if she even cared about being rude at this point.

Well, she didn’t have time to decide, as soon they stepped through an ornate (and oddly familiar) archway and into the next room.

Actually, calling it a room was a gross understatement. The mauve stones arched so high above her head. Red leaves crunched beneath her feet. The two staircases curved  up and around to such a deceptively simple door frame. Ivy crawled up and down the walls, adding a scattering of friendly green to the otherwise imposing purples and reds. Hey! She was an artist! She could appreciate a good color pallet!

She could feel Mask’s unease beside her. She reached out and gave his hand a small squeeze.

As Cookie proceeded up the stairs, the girl took a small detour.

In the pile of leaves between the stairs, something was shining. It caught her eye. She walked over and brushed some of the leaves aside.

Oh, it was the light . Why was it… here?

She reached out towards it. 

  * The immense power yo̠̎ȗ͉ now̬̿ ho̩͡lḍ͘ ̡̂fi̩ḷ̑l̲͘s ̠͋yo̬̍ṵ̞̓͆ ̦̖͆w̛͈ith̫͑̏͟ ̙͘d͙̉ e͈ ṯ͕͌͒͗͢ e͓̳͗̐̿ͅ r͉̐͗̕͜͜ m̻̣̝̈́͗̃ ḯ̯̘͇̐̅ n̺͚͈̊͡ á̢̳͉̂͊ t͍͖̭̆͗̄ i̛̼̞̘͋̓ ó̟̠̻̆͠ n̮̮̬͌͂̂

–

–

A/N: This was a fun one to write - Novi

=) - Twyst

[justasuicidecase]

Éphémère

Me posting two angsty stories in a row? More likely than you think. Thought up this idea last night with “Afterglow”. Hope you enjoy this little thing! Oh, this contains depictions of drug abuse and a major character’s death. If you don’t like that stuff, don’t read.

---

It was another night ruined by insomnia. Usually, John dreaded these nights because he usually alone with his own dreadful thoughts. But tonight was different. Tonight, his lovely boyfriend, Toby, accompanied John. They sat in their shared bedroom, Toby leaning his head on John's chest and John holding him.

At 4-in-the-morning, the couple resorted to hosting a spelling bee between the two. “Okay, smart guy. Spell Éphémère," John butchered the pronunciation of the French word. Toby stared at him in confusion, “The fuck does that even mean?” The platinum-haired man looked up the definition and read it word-for-word. “Lasting for a very short time. Or it’s a plant, take your pick.”

Toby laughed, “May I get it in a sentence, please?” John stopped for a second and rubbed his chin, appearing deep in thought. “Okay. I’m asking you to spell Éphémère," they both burst out in laughter at the level of sass. Once they calmed down, Toby said, "Y’know, you could’ve did something cute there, but you chose the sarcastic route.” This time, John stared at Toby quizzically.

“You could have been like, ‘Our love is the opposite of Éphémère,' or some dumb shit like that.” Toby nuzzled closer into his lover's chest. A shit-eating grin made its way onto John's face, “Nah, that would've been too predictable. I need to keep you on your toes, babe.” John wrapped his arms around the man's figure.

They both fell asleep with smiles on their faces before Toby could attempt spelling the word.

John slowly lifted his eyelids and quickly regretted it, sunlight harshly burning his red eyes. He brought both his hands up to his pale blue orbs and rubbed them with the heels of his hands, hoping to ease his aching head. Then, feeling ready to face the light being forcibly cast into his bedroom window, he opened his eyes for a second time.

The bed felt a lot bigger than it normally did. John turned his body to confirm his thoughts, Toby had already gotten up. Judging by the stifling silence of the house, his boyfriend had also left, most likely to run errands. He laid back down on his back, grogginess still trying to force his eyes shut.

Feeling slightly comforted by the now familiar stains and patterns on his ceiling, John stared up. From the corner of his eyes, John saw half-full water bottles littering the tan carpet of his shared bedroom. He sighed and rubbed his face more.

John threw his feet onto the carpeted floor and made his way to the bathroom, not bothering to close the door behind him. John stared into the large mirror, examining each one of his flaws. He grasped his brush and ran in through his hair, savoring the feeling. Once again the 25-year-old sighed as he left the bathroom.

It would be on of those days. A day that worthless thoughts about himself and his loving relationship with Toby plagued his mind. He didn't deserve someone as perfect as Toby. Compared to the sad life-form that went by the name John, Toby was a god who helped him out of his rut. John went back into the bathroom, but this time he grabbed a semi-transparent bottle.

The medicine inside rattled as he lifted them off of the counter. With little effort, he twisted the white cap off of the small orange bottle. Thankfully, it was half-empty, leaving John with several capsules for a later date. Seven oval pills spilled into his palm. Though it was way over what the doctor prescribed him to take, it was the only way to feel any effect of the medicine was to self-prescribe his own dosage.

Pills in hand, John made his way back into the bedroom. Leaning down, he picks up one of many half-drank water bottles and untwists the cap. He has become used to the ritual at this point; Put the ungodly amount pills in his mouth, take a mouthful of water, swallow pills and water, hang around Toby all day until John's insomnia decides he wants to sleep.

The medicine smoothly went down his throat and into his system. John relaxed as the unwanted thoughts exited his head. He was safe. Realizing it was only ten-in-the-morning, he laid down in the bed and allowed his body to relax enough to sleep.

John woke up several hours later in a cold sweat, chest in pain. It felt as if his heart was attempting to jump from his body and run away forever. He tried to get up and walk towards the bathroom, but his legs felt numb. Leaning on any objects were near him, John eventually made it into the bathroom. While the walk to there was ungraceful, the way down to the toilet was way worse.

Holding onto the counter's edge with a white-knuckle grip, the man tried to lower himself onto the ground. His arm shook with the effort suddenly forced onto it until it gave out halfway down. John’s body involuntarily launched forward as he landed on the ground. Pain shot through his head as it connected with the edge of the porcelain toilet bowl. With a blurry gaze, he saw crimson drip off of its smooth surface.

In the back of his mind, he knew all he would have to do is to expel the medicine from his system. But, he lost all strength in the fall. His body connected with the cool tile below, more pain exploded throughout him. Darkness soon overtook him, plunging him into a world of nothingness as he subconsciously flipped onto his back for the most comfort.

John's torso and limbs violently twitched as bile rose out of his mouth. He couldn’t wake up and turn over to save his own life. Slowly, the man choked to death on his own vomit in his own bathroom.

Several minutes passed before the front door opened and closed, “John! I’m back, love!" Toby's sweet and innocent voice echoed from downstairs. Seconds passed with no sound. This didn’t worry him, seeing as John would sometimes sleep until late in the evening. In these cases, Toby would walk into their room and either cuddle up to him and sleep as well or wake up him up and do something with the remainder of the day. So, he did just that.

Walking over to the door, he felt exhausted. Toby opened the bedroom door and looked at the empty bed. Confused why it was void of John, Toby walked a little further into the room and saw the bathroom. A strangled scream crawled its way out of his throat and into the air. Getting over the initial shock, he rushed over to his lover's newly found corpse.

Toby pulled out his phone and dialed 911. He stayed on the phone with the understanding woman on the other side and did everything she said. Turning John's lukewarm body onto his side, check his breathing, scoop the vomit out of his mouth. But, he did these tasks to no avail. John died before anyone was home, before anyone could help him.

[tunafishprincess]

The Roads We Take Chapter 2

art by @brothebro, writing by @tunafishprincess

First Chapter

She is twenty-six when they move into their new home.

Well, perhaps not home. Not yet.

The shingles are haphazardly thrown around the uncut grass in clumps, whilst the door barely hangs on its hinges. The inside is worse. Dust blankets the living room and kitchen. Even the closed off bedroom (only one bed, she notes), has dust bunnies scattered amongst the mess of clothes and blankets someone left behind.

And left behind they did. Whoever the original owners are, they left most of their valuables. Claire knows why, or at least, she thinks so. Most of the houses, especially this close to Arcadia, are abandoned. Another symbol of her past deeds.

But it would make due. It has to.

They have nowhere else to go.

She suspects Toby pulled several strings to get them such a place. Most humans these days live in a post-war era of poverty and disease, all brought upon by the witch queen herself. Morgana is dead, but her story will live on for centuries, if not millennia. Trolls and humans would not soon forget such a woman, nor will they forget the face she wore.

The first month of cleaning and tidying up the place are a godsend. Every day she awoke to the sound of Jim working on the roof and every night she knocked out, bone-tired from cleaning and fixing up the little cottage. When they finish up the major repairs, she starts her own little garden. Nothing like her father’s, but it is a start.

It is soothing in the beginning. No thoughts, just work. Her and Jim largely ignore each other outside of pleasantries and small talk. She is fine. Everything is fine.

Until it isn’t.

Toby and Darci visited when they could but for the most part it is only her and Jim here, no neighbors for a hundred miles around. She looks forward to them, desperately so, because what else did she have to look forward to these days?

The snippets of information help feed her imagination of the world around them. Her lack of internet made any outside news exciting, even the most dull kind. What she would give to have a newspaper or magazine subscription. But alas.

The Nuñez household came every few months, but even that wasn’t enough. Her family has their own lives, she knows, what, with Enrique’s schooling, her mother’s work—it hurts, but she understands. Even though it feels like it was just yesterday she was a teenager, outwardly she is an adult. Ten years is a long time. They have moved on, changed and grown without her presence.

Enrique sends her letters at least.

Jim is…She isn’t sure what their relationship is these days. One moment they are on the couch together and the next he’s somewhere else, leaving her for hours, sometimes days at a time.

The tension could only go on for so long. Claire is bored. Reading is nice, but it doesn’t fill the void within her.

The days turn to weeks turn to months and she is starving for something, anything.

An itch she cannot scratch, no matter how much work she does around the house or in the garden. It is as though there is a hole inside her chest, expanding with every breath.

Emptiness. Morgana hollowed her out, leaving her scrambling for purchase in this strange new world of familiar and not. No one could ever understand. Not really. She watched every atrocity the sorceress committed, like a figure behind a thick wall of glass. No matter how hard she screamed, no one could hear her.

Ten years is a lot to comb through. She knows she’s screwed up, mentally, emotionally, physically—take your pick. Morgana twisted her soul, shifted her body to accommodate the creature she originally was.

The creature Claire now is.

Humans didn’t levitate in their sleep.

Humans didn’t break glass without touching it.

The magic ebbs and flows, changing at the slightest change in her mood. No wonder Toby put her here. Society is better without her causing anymore havoc than she already does.

Still, the tightness within her builds.

She misses human contact—any contact. Stranded in the woods without much entertainment begins to suffocate her. Unlike the hospital she has nothing to distract her from her thoughts. Jim tries to help, but he isn’t much better. The sweet boy she remembers is a man now, strange and alluring; yet no matter what she does, he is always out of her reach.

It all comes to ahead one night, when Jim comes home much later than normal. She waits at the door for him to return, a bundle of emotions ready to erupt.

And how could they not? Look at me, she thinks. What a dutiful little wife she has become. Her sixteen-year-old self would be horrified at what she is now. No job, no education past tenth grade, no social life—it is a heavy blow to her self-esteem. All her dreams are dashed now, all because she didn’t seek help.

Dios mio, if only she sought out her friends before this entire mess. Even now she can recall the confusion, of how she kept forgetting things, of the endless cold that ate at her being. The cracks that wouldn’t go away. So many signs. And she was too stubborn to see them.

The door creaked open. Jim’s head lowered beneath the frame, horns lightly scrapping the top.

Her breath hitches. It is not so much the size that surprises her, but the power behind it. The thin beanpole boy that barely topped five and a half feet now towers over her, his entire body corded muscle, with impossibly large shoulders that tapered into a trim waist. No, trim didn’t cut it. Even with his shirt on she could see the outline of his abs and chest.

Could probably bounce a quarter of it, she reflects, cheeks growing rosy at the thought.

No. Almost immediately she reins herself in. Her fists clench. She is supposed to be angry. Jim is late. No, more than late, he was missing.

She knows he can sense her in the darkness, if not outright see her. The red of his eyes glow ominously. The scent of pennies is heavy in the room. As he heads for the kitchen, Claire moves in front of him.

“Jim, wait.” She adds, “Please.”

He turns his head slightly, ears lowering. “Can this wait till morning, Claire?”

Absolutely not. By then he would have an excuse and they would be back where they started, skirting around each other like always. Claire pressed on, “Where were you?”

“Work.”

Claire’s lips tug downward. Work. She hates his work. She may be trapped here but he is trapped out there, forced to do the very things Morgana used to impose upon him. He is the government’s dog, all because of her.

“You could have told me,” she says, voice level. They were a team, right?

“There wasn’t enough time.”

“There’s never enough time, is there?” She sighs, leaning against the wall. She rubs her temples, trying to starve off the headache forming. It is one of the symptoms of her magic. As if she needs even more things wrong with her.

His shoulders raise. “What?”

She throws up her hands. “Every time. You disappear without ever telling me anything. I have to get the information from Toby, and even he’s tight lipped about it because of some stupid “security clearance”. Can’t you at least have the courtesy to leave me a message? Even a text would do.”

With every word that passed her lips the frustration builds. They are supposed to be together but if anything they are further apart than ever before.

“Claire—” He whispers.

Magic crackles around her; the furniture around her shakes.

She knows she’s overreacting. Nevertheless, she cannot stop the frustration growing within her. These last few months have left her in a constant state of unease. It is now or never.

“No, I’m not finished,” she snaps. “You can’t keep doing this.”

His eyes flicker away from her steady gaze. He looks extraordinarily uncomfortable, like a child caught with a hand in the cookie jar. “Doing what?”

She groans, rubbing her forehead. Is he serious right now? “Vanishing without a trace. What if something happened here? How would I ever get a hold of you? What if something happened to you?”

“The government has security detail on the grounds,” he answers, scratching the scruff at the base of his neck. “Besides, if something did happen to me, you would be cared for.”

“Cared for?” She bites out. What is she, some sort of puppy? “Are you for real?”

“What do you want me to say?”

“Everything!” She yells, louder than she wants to, but the bubble within her has burst. Her hands grow hot in response.

Instantly, a picture frame dislodges from the wall. Claire startles then turns her head at the sound. It is a move that costs her.

When she turns back, the door is open.

Her boyfriend is gone once more.

“Mother—” She bites down the rest of the curse.

Cold grips her chest, spreading out to her extremities. Her teeth chatter. The glass windows sing, alerting her of how bad it has gotten.

Damn it. Every time. Every time she accidentally uses her powers he disappears.

Finally, the window behind her shattered. Shuddering, she begins to do the breathing exercises Darci taught her. Count to ten: one, two, three, four, five…

It takes her longer than she would like to admit.

Still, she does it. The emotions are balled up tightly inside, the freezing chill in her blood warming into an uneasy coolness.

Part of her knows this is her fault. She is to blame for Jim’s reaction.

But another part of her disagrees. Didn’t he say he would stay with her always?

What she wouldn’t give for a break from all of this. This stupid reality where she hurt everyone and everything. Is this how it is going to be for the rest of her life?

Is this her destiny?

God. She hopes not. That is almost as bad as the ten years with Morgana. Having no one to talk to and the only one that does fears her using magic.

Tired hands make quick work of the mess. It gets her mind off the inevitable, though not for long.

An hour later, he returns. This time, Claire doesn’t give him the luxury of an excuse. She bores into him, finger pressing into his broad chest. Her other hand tugs on the braid she made for him this morning. It is almost comical, her, small and fragile and him, large and indestructible.

“You’re a coward,” she remarks coldly. “You can’t talk about it so you just ignore the problem.”

“Claire,” he says, still not looking at her. “Stop.”

“No, I’m not going to stop. You can’t keep pushing me away.” She drags him over across the room, his mane a makeshift leash. He complies, albeit reluctantly.

It is childish, yes, but nothing else appears to get to him.

“I’m not pushing you away,” he reaches out, tucking a stray bang behind her ear. Part of her softens, before remembering the prior conversation. She swats the hand away. “I’m keeping you safe.”

“Bullshit. Keeping me safe? You’re running away,” she accuses. To add salt to the wound, she adds, “No wonder Morgana won.”

Her eyes widen.

It is the wrong insult.

She regrets the words the moment they leave her mouth.

The man wearing Jim’s face steels. Claire drops the braid. The golden pupils, normally rounded, slits, more animal than human.

His hunched back straightens. The muscles in his shoulders stretch against the confines of his shirt.

The Morgana issue is always a sore one between them (and probably will be for a long time). A rush of shame brushes against her heart. Nevertheless, she faces him head on.

She knows she should be afraid. This is someone who fought for her, killed for her, held her—warmth pools between her legs. It is involuntary.

Now, Claire theoretically remembers how and what they did together, but the actual is far different than what she saw through Morgana’s eyes. Her eyes fall to his chest, which appears to be expanding as he stretches out to his full size.

Holy moly he’s big, she realizes.

“What did you say?” He asks, edging her closer to the wall.

Bravery (or foolhardiness, it is hard to tell) grips her. She crosses her arms. “You heard me.”

He leans closer. “You don’t know anything.”

Claire can’t help her cheeks from burning. Did he seriously just say that? Anger flares up once more. She gestures her forefinger at his face. “I was there. I know about everything, Jim. Morgana was me, remember? I remember how she tricked you into drinking that potion. I remember the bathing room. I remember the time you tried to kill her—”

Her words get caught in her throat. Jim growls, his mouth close to her neck. She can feel his breath against her chest, hot and heavy.

“Then you remember how dangerous I am too,” he whispers, voice rumbling. “I am a monster, Claire. You don’t want to be around me…Not when I’m like this.”

She reaches out. “No, you’re not.”

Bad move. Her back smacked against the wall. She gasps. His arms lock her in, strong and unyielding, while his leg runs up against her—

Her chest tightens.

That isn’t his leg.

The heat within her builds. She is terrified and sad and angry and aroused and every other possible emotion. The scent of magic grows thick in the air. Her magic. Jim’s ears twitch in response. The faded marks on his face don’t glow, not like before, but the etchings appear deeper, darker, as if in response to Jim’s mood.

“I could break you. Here and now. Do you understand that?” He asks in a deep voice.

Her breath catches as his hand snaked around, grasping her from behind and lifting her up. His entire palm encompasses her backside.

He draws close, inches from her face. His pupils grow large, nostrils flaring. A soft rumble erupts from his throat. “This isn’t a game. I’m trying to keep you safe.”

She licks her lips. This is a dangerous situation.

But this is the most alive she’s felt in months too.

Finally, she resolves to end it.

“You’re not.” She grasps his shirt. “I need you, Jim. Please.”

The vibration in his chest grows louder. He lowers her to the floor once more (she almost feels a tad disappointed by that).

She can read the swirl of emotions on his face, from the lowering of his ears to his hitched shoulders. A soft smile emerges on her lips; he’s embarrassed.

Despite the changes, Jim is still there. Just as broken as she is.

And that’s what it comes down to, isn’t it? Two broken people, looking for the other to make them whole.

“You could do better,” he says.

Seizing the moment, she presses a kiss on his forehead. The tension in his shoulders ease. “You’re not the only monster around here, Jim,” she admits.

She makes a move for his lips but he stops her. There’s a softness in his gaze, but there is hesitancy too.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m not ready.”

“Alright,” she concedes. It hurts, but she understands.

He brings her closer. She wraps her arms around his neck. He is warm and firm and smells of the outside world.

“This is all so new. I’m afraid it’s a dream,” he confesses, voice breaking. “I’m so scared of losing you. You’re everything to me.”

Claire chokes down a sob. Her lip trembles. The angry, frustrated part of her begins to wash away.

“I can relate.” Even she wonders at times whether all this is something she made up, brought upon by the insanity of being with Morgana for so long.

“I missed you. I missed us. I just didn’t want to screw it up like I did with everything else. I want what we had before. It was perfect and real and—”

She presses a finger to his lips. He gives her a familiar lopsided smile.

“We were never perfect, Jim,” she answers truthfully. “We both had our flaws.”

Her arrogance and his self-sacrifice. She lets out a soft giggle. What a pair they are.

“I missed this,” he says.

“Me too.” She pauses, pulling a stray strand of hair back behind her ear. “Can we cuddle? Like we used to—Wah! Dios mio, qué haces? Jim, oh my gosh! Stop, you doofus! Put me down!”

The princess carry is unexpected, to say the least. He spins around, making Claire break out into a fit of laughter. It is the most fun she’s had in months.

“You wanted to cuddle,” he replies cheerfully.

She rolls her eyes, cheeks reddening. “You’re impossible.”

They settle into the couch. It creaks under them, largely because it wasn’t meant for someone of Jim’s size, she suspects. Slowly, she crawls onto his lap. Her hands caress his hair, over and over, hypnotic in its rhythm. The tension in his shoulder ease, melting away. She leans forward; he shifts to accommodate her. She digs her face into his shoulder, taking in his scent, a warm encompassing presence.

“We can’t keep doing this whole ignoring the problem thing anymore. We need to talk. Real talk. About everything,” she says. “I know it’s scary, but I’m going insane over here. You’re the only one around I can really talk to.”

“You’re right,” he mumbles into her hair. His head tilts back, eyes closing. “I guess I’ll start then.”

“Are you sure?” She says.

He nods, pulling her closer. “Sure? Heck no. But you’re right about the talking.”

It’s not much. The conversation only lasts half an hour before Claire nods off.

But it’s a start.

[ibroughtthisonmyselfpixels]

Episode 15 Replies

All SoS reply posts have spoiler caveats on them, but here it applies more than ever. Proceed with caution.

@sevenleafsimblr replied to your photoset “No, it’s nothing to do with–” … “N-no - no. It’s just a weird...”

HMMMM...

foreboooooooooooooooooode

@tosimornottosim replied to your photoset “Percy: “Hello? Anyone–?”  Cornelia: “Hello yourself, Percy. What are...”

eyeballs at both of them

@jackssims replied to your photoset “Percy: “Look, let’s say Lyra hits the final two. Or the killer, let’s...”

A good speech from Felicity but that content is making me a little sus 👀 (granted my suspicion has drifted to her, so...)

IMO a good MMBC makes a Sim sufficiently suspicious, and a great MMBC makes every eligible party sufficiently suspicious. I’m aiming to make a great MMBC today. Well, all days.

(Also specifically to Jack: I won’t confirm or deny, but I will say it’s not like she’s not telling the truth. Trans people do know more how to survive than most...)

sevenleafsimblr replied to your photoset ““said anything yet.” Felicity: “-w- what was that? Listen.” ...”

:O

She’s still Ron’s Delano’s sister!

@cafesimming reblogged your photoset and added:

i have the purest daughter #what an absolute sweetheart

tosimornottosim replied to the same: 

thats so pure...........

Not to put too fine a point on it, but I love Lavandar so, so, so, so so so much. I love all three of- I loved all four of them, but to see the enthusiasm you have for Lavandar makes my heart warm

tosimornottosim replied to your photoset “Lorelei: “M-morning, Kira. Hi, Toby.” Toby: “Hey. So, another last...”

I thought Toby said 'baby' instead of 'today' for a second I was like WOAH SLOW THE ROLL

I bet now you wish he hadn’t slowed the roll huh

cafesimming replied to your photoset “Kira: “Okay, if I’m guessing right here, we’ve got enough time that I...”

😊 !!

sevenleafsimblr replied to your photoset “Lavandar: “Are you sure? You look distracted. Everything definitely...”

😭 this is pure

With all the tension between Percy and Kira since that incident in Episodes 5 through 7, I figured the latter could use some more bonding to cheer her up!

cafesimming replied to the same:

broke: intracontestant fighting woke: intracontestant friendship

There’s a time and a place for both; it just depends on what potential you can spot and what happens in game organically!

cafesimming replied to your photoset “Lavandar: “Right, okay, okay, okay. How much do you know about snakes...”

it makes me very happy that "lavandar infodumps about lizards" is a tag

It’s mostly to contrast how worried she is that Lorelei doesn’t care about what she’s saying at all at the first, and how she’s more sure that she does later on. believe it or not I do try and include character growth every now and again

cafesimming reblogged your photoset and added:

😭😭 #baby

everyone is crying all over the place today and we haven’t even got to the real heart-hurt yet

cafesimming replied to your photoset “STOP IT!” *THUD* … *thud* “…” *shallow breath* “Nn… nn.”

DID LETHE JUST FUCKING KILL SOMEONE EITH ONE OF LOR'S INSTRUMDNTS DUDE YOU CANT /DO THAT/

Lorelei will never be able to play that brand of guitar again

cafesimming replied to your photoset “Lorelei: “I guess- I guess it’s your turn now, Lavandar?” ...”

*lets out held breath* ohthankgod

Tenderhooks

tosimornottosim replied to your photoset “Kira: “It’s funny, y’know. When you put it like that. ‘We’re...”

toby is fucking dead

Process of Elimination Strikes Again, in more ways than one

cafesimming replied to the same:

oh i am Not looking forward to this fallout. this isnt gonna be pretty on anyone

it wasn’t

sevenleafsimblr replied to your photoset “˜Found Toby.’”

FUCK i mean i knew this was coming and i CALLED it that the lorelei contestant murder was gonna be this round but STILL FUCK

I mean To Be Fair you were warned it could be the case, as the end credits explain

tosimornottosim replied to the same:

FECK ARSE

jackssims replied to the same:

Oh FUCK

And it's too late, for me now Will not learn never know how Voided colours bleeding out My monochrome

tosimornottosim replied to your photoset “Victim: Toby Hale Cause of death: Blunt Force Trauma...”

FYCK FEOWGHWREIUGWRGTW

cafesimming replied to the same:

shiiiiit

@bountifulberries replied to the same:

I’m SO sad

And my thoughts are falling out Brain is splattered on the ground Hanging five feet in the air I figured out There's no way out

tosimornottosim replied to your photoset “Toby?!”  “–oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck–” “He’s… he’s...”

i'm so sorry lor

jackssims replied to the same:

This is. Upsetting

cafesimming replied to the same:

i want to help her. i wish i could help her

her heart is breaking so much. so so much

tosimornottosim replied to your photoset “¦ Toby: “…n…” … Toby: “Wh… L- Lorelei? Lorelei, got- g-tta…...”

how dare you

What I think Vid is referring to is this insightful bit I clarified on Discord:��

ALSO SO okay okay: okay: one of toby's lines in the latest post "w-why can't I see?" that line keeps flopping back and forth between two different interpretations for me the first that it's part of my HC that ghosts see things differently to how mortal Sims do - which admittedly is something I haven't incorporated in some time the second? that lethe hit him so hard that he's become blind BELIEVE ME I DO NOT WANT THIS I DONT KNOW WHY IT KEEPS TELLING ME THAT 

tosimornottosim replied to your photoset “Toby: “Oh.” Oʜ? Toby: “…it’s my time, isn’t it?” Iᴛ ɪs. Sᴀᴅʟʏ,...”

AUGTRHTBERHTER

HE LOVES HER SO MUCH VIDCUND

sevenleafsimblr replied to your photoset “¦ Lorelei: *almost a whisper* “I… d-didn’t want you to go either,...”

😢😭

No More the Het Shit to Hit people with

jackssims replied to your photoset “Percy: “…t-this is my fault.” Lilith: “Pe- Per - Percy?”  Percy: “I, I...”

Lyra?

Lyra... Lyra! Lyra~

cafesimming replied to the same:

someone pls get my daughter out of the pool of blood

things you don’t want to hear at a police station

jackssims replied to your photoset “Lorelei: “Lyra. Got- gotta call - ” *wipes eyes* “- gotta call Lyra.” ...”

Oh, okay. I dunno why I thought Lyra was just going to waltz into the BC house, but I did. Calling her makes a lot more sense

Lyra: *kangaroo kicks down the door with her leg, falls flat on her ass* LOR HOLY FUCK

jackssims replied to your photoset “¦ Percy: “So? W-what’s it say?” … Percy: “Lorelei? What does–”...”

Poor Lorelei 😭

you sympathized even when you Did Not Know the extent

cafesimming replied to your photoset “Lavandar: “…Kira? … Kira.” Kira: “Yeah?” Lavandar: “Where’s Lorelei...”

heck

watch your fucking language

sevenleafsimblr replied to the same:

😰

poor Clover

tosimornottosim replied to your photoset “Lyra: “How did you find out?!” Percy: “I- I can’t, I-”  Lyra:...”

W W H A T

sevenleafsimblr replied to your photoset “Lyra: “How did you find out?!” Percy: “I- I can’t, I-”  Lyra:...”

😰😰😰😰😰😰😰

At one point Kaspar liked up to this point then stopped cold and I was like “oh shit I killed them. reveal game too strong”

tosimornottosim replied to your photoset “this wasn’t supposed to happen. none of tthis was supposed to HAPPEN....”

M e l o d y???????? M E L O D Y????????????????????????????????

M e l o d y

Jack said elsewhere: 

In all honesty my head is reeling from all of this I'm just very 👀 and 🤔 rn 

👀 I can see, but what’s 🤔 represent? Speculation?

Lissa said elsewhere: 

You've done some Good Shit Kara Get some good rest, you've more than earned it

Nope! Now I’m not queueing and any image I add won’t interfere with it, I’m gonna go double hard and double time on the installment subsequent. And hopefully it’ll be revealing enough to really make Lavandar sit up! ...from the pool of blood. 

[loquaciousquark]

5th Harvestmere. It is Properly Blustery at last

Sebastian’s singing voice is unfairly beautiful. Went to services this morning (he told us last week at WG he was cantoring) and enjoyed every minute of it. Classical training can only do so much—I proved that myself, to Mother’s consternation—and sometimes you just can’t help but appreciate raw natural talent.

Damn. I was trying not to think about

Varric told us this morning he’d heard a rumor about a ship waylaying a trading vessel out of Rivain last month. The captain was calling herself the Queen of the Eastern Seas.

She hasn’t tried to write me either, so I don’t know why it stings so much. Maybe because I know she could find me if she wished, and she...wishes not to, apparently. And I…

I don’t think the post delivers to Queen of the Eastern Seas. Especially not without a forwarding address.

15th Harvestmere. Chilly enough to break out the ugly sweaters

Orana’s been here a year tomorrow. She thought I’d forgotten—aha, but I hadn’t! Untrusting woman!

Had all her favorites for dinner—light meats, fresh fruit in tartes, and grilled slices of red potatoes in a vinegar sauce. Dessert was a flat chocolate cake thing that Bodahn makes only on very special occasions. Well, if Orana’s not special, I don’t know what is.

I got her a new lute. I don’t know if I should have, but she doesn’t know when she was born, not even the season, and there aren’t nearly enough opportunities the rest of the year for proper gift-giving. Not to mention her old one’s a half size too large for her (accursed merchant), and one of the keys won’t hold its place for tuning. The new one has ivy scrollwork on the neck that made me think of her. Strong at the root, even if the leaves look fragile.

One of Orana’s friends, a woman who helps out in Jean-Luc’s shop, came by for dessert as well, as did Tomwise, and an elf woman I recognized from Lowtown but couldn’t place the name of, and her little daughter. Toby naturally took the girl’s entertainment as his number one priority, which helped, and then all Orana’s friends and Bodahn and Sandal sat around just...having a very lovely conversation.

I hadn’t even realized she knew all these people. Bodahn was the one to invite them all.

I excused myself after a while, just to give them some privacy. I think I made the little girl nervous. I wish I could explain to her I belong with Tomwise a thousand times more than I belong with Lady Forsythe and the glittering errata.

Then again, I’m the one importing strawberries out of season and serving chocolate cake on hand-dyed porcelain. Flames, at this point I wish I could explain it to myself.

Later, almost midnight

Orana came and found me after all her friends had left. She asked if she could play something for me in thanks—I told her the lute was out of my gratitude, not meant to exacerbate hers, but she just gave that little smile that tells me she’s about to do whatever she wishes anyway, so I lit a few candles and she sat next to me at the window.

I don’t know what it was called. It was Tevinter and strange and sad, and she hummed a little in harmony as she went, and I wanted to cry without knowing why.

She said her father had loved that song. She said he and the other cooks used to sing it in groups in Hadriana’s kitchens, but she’s forgotten the words.

I wondered…

Mm. I wondered if Fenris would know the words, and Orana shook her head and smiled and thought it was unlikely, that what she knew of Danarius’s household offered very little of Napocan folk songs.  

She said she’d heard of Fenris in Minrathous, that Hadriana talked of him sometimes, and that once Danarius had stopped to see his apprentice and Fenris had come with him. She’d seen him through a crack in a balcony and been frightened by his face.  

She hadn’t recognized him at first, that day in the caverns among the iron cages. It hadn’t been until that evening, when he’d come to pace in my foyer, that she’d known him for who he was and who he belonged to. She’d been afraid already, and then I’d come home and Mother had taken her upstairs...

She said Mother had been kind. Even when she’d broken that vase of chrysanthemums—and I’d forgotten about that—Mother had only been patient. She said sometimes that made it worse in the beginning, but she’d understood Mother better by the end.

I burned to ask her if she’d seen Fenris leave that night, but couldn’t bring myself to get the words out. It didn’t matter the answer, anyway—it all would have hurt the same.

Why do happy occasions always make my heart ache the most?

17th Harvestmere. Cold

I forgot my nameday. It was the fifteenth, the same day as Orana’s party. I was so busy planning her day I forgot, and it hadn’t once crossed my mind until Fenris came by this morning.

He had a book. A volume on Aristone’s treatises, annotated by the elvhen mage Daliari, bound in black leather and with a blue ribbon for marking my place.

He said everyone else planned to give me something at cards tonight, but he—implied as obliquely as possible—wasn’t certain if I’d like it and didn’t want me to have to pretend to be pleased if I wasn’t.

I am very pleased.

23rd Harvestmere. Someone piled up leaves from the street right outside my door and Toby has been, in a word, romping

Thinking about Bethany today. Thinking about Varania, too (whether or not she exists), and Karl, Anders’s old lover, and Sebastian’s family, and the way people can leave without warning and that’s--that’s all there is to it, and you’ve only the Maker’s hope you said everything you needed to before it happened.

I keep remembering I never told Mother I liked her hair, the way she’d started wearing it. What a small thing to keep wrapping thorns around my heart.

Aveline mentioned Wesley the other day as well. An offhanded comment, because Fenris stepped in something sticky coming into the Hanged Man and Aveline (apparently) once walked barefoot into a whole cask’s worth of sour beer Wesley had spilled once. I haven’t heard her say his name in years. I wonder if that’s time’s influence, or Donnic’s.

I am infinitely tired of watching the people I love lose.

Satinalia! 1st Firstfall, and I can’t see a thing through this damned mask. Also it’s bitterly cold outside

Merrill’s already pattering through the kitchen (which means I need to get downstairs immediately before I end up with flour all down the stairs again) but a quick note before I go: next time I offer to host Satinalia feasting, don’t let everyone pre-drink at the Hanged Man first.

Later

New inkpen! Finer point than I had, lovely, a black lacquered ironwood courtesy Varric & Merrill, sneaky sneaky. Av gave a little book of hymns with Sebastian who wrote a decida de dedion dedication in the front. Ha! I can spell. I can spell better than most poeple. Except Varric.

Anders forgot it was Sat. Bought drinks for the whole group in apology & two more bottles to bring to my place. Laughed while he did it but didn’t drink & he def. can’t afford it. Memo: large donation next week, anon. Get V to drop it off via runner. Get the urchin with the whistle. Set the whole street awake if he sees a templar lurking

something is banging outside

He liked his scarf, though. Fereldan colors & part of the Anderfels skyline along one hem. Orana’s idea, smart as flames. Too bad he’s pathologically attached to those feathers or I’d have that paper-thin coat out in half a heartbeat

Merrill was trickier but liked the mittens & Av showed her the stitching on the inside, Dalish for heart & memory. I need to be craftier so I can stop leaching gift ideas off everyone else

Maker’s blood & bone this room will not stop spinning

Av, Seb, V & I all went in and got Fen a complete collection of Mader’s works. Historical/slightly fictionalized/encyclopedic thing. Eight volumes. Dry as bones but for flashes of brilliant humor & then you realize he’s just sarcastic as the Void. Plus rather decent Marcher history from Steel Age onward. Not flattering of Tevinter either. Seems perfect for him.

Fancy leather bindings, all in dark leather with rainbow bookmarks. Not all rainbow themselves. The first is red, next orange, etc. F couldn’t carry them all at once so they’re downstairs waiting for multiple trips

What is this banging

[There is no heading for the next section. Instead, there are large, red stains across the side of the page, as if the writer’s hand had not been washed prior to taking up the pen.]

Burn these smugglers! Now I’m drunk and bloody and my ear is cut and Fen is downstairs kipping in the guest because the Crimson We wa Weavers have death wishes & jumped him for coin

Stupid

especially right outside my house, went out and he had all but three down even swaying worse than Gamlen the morning after payday

laughed when I got two down with lightning, & he looked like a masterwork painting since he still had on the elvhen godshead mask. Fen’harel. Lyrium was glowing and made the eyes light from the inside, and his grin was wolfish as anything I’ve ever...

Now there are bodies in my leaves and no one will get them until morning

Damned inconvenient

17th Firstfall. Stairs to Lowtown were iced over today and one of the people who take the palanquins up and down the stairs broke a leg

Varric told me about a mummer’s show last night in Lowtown. He, Aveline, and I went--invited the others but Anders & Merrill were busy and Fenris said he might but never showed.

Varric didn’t tell me it was about me becoming the Champion. Fighting the Arishok, all that. They made him a monster. Grotesque, I mean. His face was purple and scarred and twisted, and I killed him with a sword as tall as Anders.

The audience loved it. They cheered when the Arishok died, and the woman playing me spat on him before kicking his body into the harbor.

I told Varric if I ever read something like this in any of his future books I’d never take him anywhere with me ever again.

20th Firstfall. Ice has melted and now everything’s soggy as spring

Apologized to Varric yesterday. I know he’d never write anything like that mockery, and it wasn’t fair to take my irritation out on him.

It was a ten-copper mummer’s show, and the lead had papier-mâché armor. There’s only so much self-righteous indignation I can manage at one time.

Absolutely sent the company an incensed letter, though. Enjoy ten pages of detailed, annotated corrections, you limp little eels.

30th Firstfall. Snowing lightly today, just enough to make everything slick

Had a letter today. No signature or heading, postmarked Brandel’s Reach. The corner was torn off and the whole thing smelled like salt. “Hope everything’s well there. Still alive. That’s all.”

That’s all.

Six months and that’s all.

19th Haring. Merrill brought a basket of snowdrops and she, Orana, and I covered the great room in garland. Damned lovely

Braeden asked me to marry him. He had a ring made of gold and sapphires and a pair of delicate lace gloves that are too small for me. He said these last months together have shown him I am more than capable of becoming a lasting partner in managing his life and his lands and he’s sure he can make me happy.

I asked him what my favorite color was. He didn’t know.

5th Wintermarch

She died a year ago today.

Fenris came and had dinner with me. We didn’t talk much, and afterwards we went to the library and were quiet there, too. He let me doze on his shoulder when I couldn’t sleep. He left around second bell, when I told him I would go to bed even if I couldn’t manage the dreaming.

Of all the painful anniversaries between us, this one is my least favorite.

21st Wintermarch. I’ve begun needing green -- this winter’s lasting longer than some of Lothering’s, or maybe that’s just because there’s hardly been any snow

I’ve had a terrible cold since Firstday. Orana and Bodahn have kept me bundled in fur & up to my eyes in hot soup and I think I’m finally on the mend. My throat’s so sore I sound like a tenor, though.

Went out to Sundermount last week with Merrill, Varric, and Aveline. We skirted the Dalish camp out there because Merrill didn’t want to speak to Marethari, but I saw her face at the aravel sails peeking over the hills. I’d give a thousand sovs to never see her look like that again.

30th Guardian. Wet and cold and grey and there’s smoke in the winds off the forge down the way

Didn’t mean to leave this so long, but I lost you, journal! Forgot I’d taken you along on a trip up to the farther reaches of the Wounded Coast, and then when I got back I tossed the bag to the side and didn’t think twice about it for a month until Orana started making faces at the smell of iron and brackish seawater. And lo and behold, what should be tucked into the bottom of the bag but a handful of dog biscuits (Toby is thrilled) and you, dear journal, your pages a little worse for the wear but still holding their binding perfectly well.

Naturally, I have nothing to say. The Crimson Weavers have been rooted out from the city and Cullen is now obliged to leave Pelarie’s sister with the family necklace. Something I can check off my list as Champion of this blighted city. Luck dictates I must have one success eventually.

I did have to go by the Gallows the other day to deliver a packet of herbs to Sol. The templars didn’t stare so badly this time, but I know the blonde one with the mutton chops would have killed me if he could. I’m not so far from pitched battle to not recognize death in a man’s eyes.

17th Drakonis. It warmed just for a day as if to tease, then went right back to the chilly damp drizzle. In like a lion, out like a lion, a very wet lion with a soggy mane

I’ve been itching dangerously for a few weeks in the absence of life-threatening peril, so I’ve been taking myself down to Anders’s clinic. It’s cruel to say, but there’s enough death there (and risk of death) to keep my blood at bay, and Anders needs the help besides. There’s a rash of pox going around (ha) and while it’s not too bad for most, the fever can take the very young and very old in a matter of hours.

Anders is getting thin. Reminder: have Orana put some of those turnovers in the basket next time. I’ll fatten him up if I have to tie him to the kitchen chair.

A pair of boys came in to the clinic day before yesterday. Brothers, it looked like, one ten and the other maybe seven or eight. They said they had no one else when I asked. The little one had the pox and was scratching himself to bleeding; the other had the dimpled scars on his neck and arms but no fever left.

I wish I could heal like Anders. He’s so talented at this sort of thing. I can’t even fathom how he can reach inside and feel for the wrongness, then just--pull it out as clean as anything, like separating ink from water in a thin line. Bethany could do that too, when she wasn’t afraid of it. She could sense the source of a cold from across the room and have it halfway to mending in two breaths.

I haven’t the talent like that. Father called me a hammer, once, and he wasn’t wrong, and since Anders was asleep I had to use what I could to heal this boy, which was -- well, me.

He left better than he came in, at least. The fever was gone and the open poxmarks were healed over, but he’ll have scars all down his arms for the rest of his life. Anders would have had him looking fresher than a newborn babe and sent him off with a lolly. 

He’ll live. Why am I not satisfied?

1st Cloudreach. Cold

I didn’t want him to just live. I wanted him to be as he was before this sickness touched him, healthy and whole and without the memories of all the pain. 

Funny. You’d think I’d have learned by now. If six years of friendship with Fenris has taught me nothing else, the memories make you who you are.