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gaylordscooter · 2 months

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One Year of This So-Called Hell

It's been awhile since they've started living at the castle. They've grown used to it. They wouldn't call it their home or call each other their housemates, but they certainly thought of it like that.

However, despite how long they’ve been here, they still have yet to get acquainted with Nightmare. They were all casual with each other except with him. For obvious reasons, including but not limited to the fact he kidnapped them all and puts them through grueling situations from time to time.

Though, that latter reason has diminished over time. They didn't know if he was running out of ideas or what, because recently these situations have become akin to game nights. Quite literally they would play some board game or card game. It was kinda fun. None of them were going to complain though, even if they found it odd.

But today something especially odd happened. Not only was there a breakfast setup for them when they arrived at the kitchen this morning, Nightmare himself was at the table.

At first none of them said anything to him. Then Killer decided he couldn't stand the silence and said a good morning that was directed at everyone.

“Good morning, Killer,” Nightmare responded in a formal tone. He took a bite out of his pancakes. The three were watching him in disbelief as he chewed and swallowed. He looked up, taking note that none of them were making a move to sit down. “I hope the food isn't that bad. It took me a few tries to make something decent.”

“you cooked this?” Horror asked in surprise. He shot a skeptical look at the food. He's never messed with their food before, but he wouldn't be surprised if he started now.

“I made an effort to. There are no eggs as I couldn't extract the edible part without getting the casing mixed up in it.” He continued to eat, trying to show the food wasn't tampered with.

Killer shrugged and pulled out a chair to sit down a few chairs away from Nightmare. He grabbed a plate and a few pancakes. He quickly inspected the food before dousing it in an ungodly amount of syrup and began to eat.

Nightmare couldn't help but stare at Killer's soul as they ate, as weird as that was. He was transfixed by the shape. It was different, much more reminiscent of a proper monster soul rather than the usual target.

“hey, bud, my eyes are up here,” Killer said.

Nightmare's eye snapped up as if he was a child that was caught holding a knife. He noticed that Killer’s eye sockets, which were usually empty, had ringed eyelights at the moment, but usually he’d only have them when he was experiencing intense emotions—often negative. He didn't sense any negativity from him at the moment.

“whatcha lookin’ at?” he questioned despite knowing the answer.

Nightmare felt the other two’s tension and wariness. “Your soul's different,” he noted.

Killer’s posture relaxed a little. “oh, yeah. it's been that way for a bit.” He glanced at the other two, silently pleading them to stop standing in place awkwardly and to actually join them at the table.

Fortunately, Horror read his mind and made a move to sit down, prompting Dust to as well.

“May I ask what it means for it to look that way?” Nightmare implored.

Killer seemed taken aback by the question. His smile went crooked, at least more than usual and he slouched as if to cover his soul with the table. “am i allowed to say ‘no’? you kinda already asked.”

“You need not answer,” he responded. He dropped the topic; the question made Killer uncomfortable and he would rather not drive him away.

Dust and Horror were finally beginning to eat. Nightmare was almost worried they’d never start.

“i’ll tell you if you answer two of my questions,” Killer eventually said, to his surprise.

Of course he’d turn this into a bargain. “Ask away.”

He noticed that piqued Dust and Horror's interest.

“what’s up with the breakfast? you've never done this before.” Killer said.

“I can be nice, once in a while.”

Killer scoffed, rolling his eyelights.

“And it's a special occasion. It's been a year since I first brought you all here,” he added. He debated doing something like this in the first place. His relationship with these three was unusual. He was their tormentor; their personalized hell. At the very same time, he was their provider, in a way. He’d bring them food, water and shelter, things normally a parental figure would do—even though he was everything but that.

Horror laughed dryly, “how nice, a breakfast to celebrate a whole year after you kidnapped us to treat us like your toys.”

However, as far as he knew, he was nothing but a demon and that was exactly how they saw him.

His brother was an angel, and he was a demon. That's just how things were.

“second question, why haven't you ever messed with our food?”

Horror’s expression soured as he glared at Killer like it was a warning.

“it'd be pretty effective torture, right?” He continued to eat despite the topic at hand.

“It’d be effective,” he agreed, “but only once. Afterwards, Horror would be too far gone to do anything with.”

Horror dropped the fork he was holding with a clatter. His smile was tense and nearly a straight line.

“you’d still have me and dust, though,” Killer said.

“you little shit—”

Killer turned his head to Horror revealing his serious expression to him to silently tell him, no, he's not giving him ideas. He's trying to get information.

“Killing or irreparably harming any of you would be a major inconvenience, that is why.”

Killer stood up and leaned towards Nightmare, putting his hands on the table. “you said we were easily replaceable,” he remarked.

“I said there were many like you, not that you were easily replaceable,” he corrected. He didn't like where this conversation was going. “I answered your questions, now answer mine.”

“fine,” Killer huffed, sitting back down and crossing his arms. “i don’t know,” he said.

“What?” Nightmare said in a low rumble. Was he tricked? He didn't take kindly to the notion that Killer was going back on their deal. His tentacles flicked irritably.

Horror, noticing the ends of them sharpening, decided to speak up, “he doesn't. at least, he doesn't know what causes it.”

His tentacles relaxed, no longer threatening to lash out at Killer. “Do you feel any different?”

Shouldn't he already know that?

“oh he sure feels different,” Horror said.

Killer shrunk in on himself, trying to look invisible. Embarrassment. Shame? Guilt.

Why was it suddenly harder to discern his emotions?

“I want to hear it from him.” His eye bore into Killer.

Killer groaned, bordering on a growl, “you’re telling me you haven't felt a difference? actually, i’m surprised you’ve kept me around before, considering i didn’t feel anything.”

Nightmare's eye widened.

He didn't feel anything before? That wasn't right. He could sense his emotions the whole time. That's how he found him in the first place. As far as he knew, he wasn't like Ink either. It was very clear he had a soul.

“You did feel before. That's how I found you,” he insisted.

Killer narrowed his sockets. Anger. “i was only acting, until recently. none of it was real.”

He could feel bitterness coming from Dust.

Killer frowned, risking a glance at Dust. “but it is now,” and it’s terrifying, “and it’s weird.”

“How long has it been like this?” He knew Killer was getting annoyed at all the questions but he couldn't just drop it now. He didn't care if he was getting annoyed.

Killer had the audacity to stand up.

“Sit back down,” he ordered.

“i don't need to answer you. i don't need to follow your orders. i'm not your pet,” he spat as he roughly pushed his chair in, making the table jolt.

“You aren’t,” he sighed as Killer stormed off. His eye darted to Dust and Horror. They hardly ate anything.

“it’s been fluctuating ever since we got here,” Horror said once Killer left. “but recently it's been staying that shape.”

Nightmare was surprised at Horror’s willingness to share that information. “I’ve been sensing fear from him recently.” It didn't take a genius to find out that it was connected. “But there's also been positive emotions—coming from all of you, actually.”

Horror scoffed in a way that sounded like a laugh, “call that stockholm syndrome.”

He did not know what “stockholm syndrome” was, but from his knowledge he knew that the word “syndrome” had negative connotations. Did he inflict a disease of some kind on them without knowing?

He stood up, picking up his plate with one of his tentacles that stretched over to the sink to place it down. “I will be taking my leave now. Thank you for humoring me.” His body melted into the shadows and he was gone.

Horror shook his head, “what a weirdo.” He put a few more pancakes on his plate and resumed eating.

Dust refrained from eating, merely picking bits from his pancake and dropping it back down on the plate.

“so…how are things between you and killer?” he dared to ask. It's been about a week since they had that fight. The two were avoiding each other. Well, Dust was obviously avoiding him. Killer just made no attempt to approach him—at least to his knowledge. This led to Killer spending more time with Horror, and honestly, he has no clue how Dust has tolerated this guy for so long.

Dust made a guttural noise that was basically a growl.

Though it was a clear show of his discontent, Horror couldn't stifle a chuckle.

That only exacerbated Dust’s sour mood. He stood up.

“hey, wait,” Horror said. “you hardly ate anything.”

“not hungry,” he signed.

Horror looked unconvinced. “that's bullshit and you know it.”

Dust sighed and picked up his plate.

“c’mon dude, don't go wallowing in your room.”

“don't play therapist,” Dust muttered.

“someone in this castle needs to stay level-headed. you didn't answer my question.”

“what do you think?”

“i think…that killer’s an asshole and you're right to be pissy, but you two should probably talk,” he suggested. He gave him a serious look, “he's driving me insane, dust.”

“it's all he’s good at,” he said bitterly.

“c’mon now, that's not true.”

Dust didn't even have to say anything.

“ehhh. we still care about him anyway,” Horror said.

Dust was mad that he couldn't refute that without lying.

Nightmare found Killer outside in the forest, he was nearby a make-shift shelter he made for the stray cats that lived here. It took him an embarrassingly long time to find him because he wasn't in the castle, but him being outside for once was a welcome change. Since he wasn't holed up in his room it meant Nightmare didn't have to worry about intruding on his private quarters.

Killer loudly groaned when he noticed Nightmare. He ignored him and continued to watch and pet the cats.

Nightmare remembered how terrified Killer was when he saw him hanging out with a bunch of cats. He thought he would harm them—he was so sure that he instigated a fight to protect them. Once that was resolved, he started going outside much more often just to see the cats. He was still tense whenever Nightmare was near them, however.

“Have you named them yet?” Nightmare asked.

“what’s it to ya? waiting for me to be more attached to them so you can rip them away from me when the time’s right?” Killer snapped. He didn't take his eye off the cats.

There were six of them, each of them having various colors and patterns. He was surprised Killer could take care of that many, considering he couldn't take care of himself.

Nightmare hummed thoughtfully, eye skimming over the group of cats. “I was merely curious, usually people name things they look after.”

Killer scoffed, “you named dust and horror.” The brown cat rubbed its head against his outstretched hand.

“Yes.”

“you don't ‘look after’ them.” He gently scratched the chin of the cat. It was purring.

“Depends on how you define ‘look after’. I definitely monitor them.”

“no shit,” he snarked.

“i also supply food, water and shelter.”

Killer frowned and stood up. The cats meowed in protest. He faced Nightmare. “what are you getting at?”

“You see me as needlessly cruel, as if I’m incapable of doing kind things,” he replied.

Killer laughed forcefully. It startled the cats, making them retreat to their shelter. “what? suddenly feeling like you deserve sympathy? i don't give a shit if you do kind things. that doesn't change the fact that you tortured us.”

Surely none of it was worse than their situations in their old universes.

“Right. Forgive me for digressing, but what, pray tell, is ‘stockholm syndrome’?”

It seemed like Killer found that question humorous. “you trying to do that to us? is that what your deal is?”

Frankly, Nightmare had no idea what Killer was talking about.

“you start being all nice and dandy to make us think ‘oh he's not all bad. i actually enjoy being here’.”

“You do,” Nightmare pointed out, “enjoy being here, I mean.” He could sense that clearly.

“fuck off. you don't know that for sure,” he said bitterly.

He couldn't deny the utter contempt Killer held for him.

He dipped his head. “I apologize.”

“you what?” Killer said incredulously.

Why was he apologizing? He was deceiving him. He had to be.

Nightmare didn't know what he was doing. He's hardly bothered to show remorse. There wasn't any reason to start now. Except, after seeing the companionship between the three, he couldn't help but feel jealous.

He wanted connection. It was pathetic to admit, but the only person he was close to was his brother. Was.

How cruel of the multiverse to allow him to yearn for something he wasn't allowed to have. He couldn't help but try to get what he wanted.

“For choosing you three to inflict pain upon, I apologize. You don't deserve it yet I do it anyway.”

“i don't deserve it?” Killer said. “hah! who the hell am i talking to right now? you really nightmare?” He strode closer to Nightmare and thrust a finger at him, poking him in the chest.

Nightmare was shocked by the sudden contact.

“y’know, you and me are pretty similar in some aspects. we don’t have the capacity to care and yet we're pretending we can anyway. you can't fool me. i know you're just trying to manipulate me with that apology.”

Nightmare took a minute to respond, scanning over Killer’s feelings and expression. Again, he was hard to read, like he was able to obscure it. He wasn't trying to manipulate him. He really wasn't. But he supposed he hasn't been upfront enough with him to believe that. “Do you recall when we encountered Fresh for the first time?”

Killer snarked, “what about it?”

“I could've left you, you said.”

“you didn't save us out of compassion, you just needed us for your stupid plans or whatever.”

“But you thought you were replaceable. Which one is it?” he countered.

“it's whatever's most beneficial to you,” he retorted. “you said it would’ve been a hassle.”

He did say that. Nightmare was stumped. He didn't even know where he was trying to go with this. It wasn't like he could make Killer’s hatred towards him disappear.

Maybe he could make Killer’s self hatred go away.

Why did he think that? Did he want that? That wouldn't benefit him.

Maybe he was sick of the feeling of hatred, like loneliness. Like being sick of having the same food over and over again.

He felt something down by his tentacles. He tried to hide his surprise but he hastily looked down to see one of the cats nudging against one of his tentacles. It was the brown one that cuddled Killer a moment ago. Nightmare froze.

“hey!” Killer barked and knelt down to shoo the cat away from Nightmare. “baked beans, i told you not to get near him,” he scolded the cat.

The cat meowed out a whine.

Killer frowned and stood back up as the cat walked away.

“‘Baked beans’?” Nightmare echoed. “Is that its name?”

“don’t hurt her.”

“You are awfully insistent that I’m going to hurt these cats. Has anyone told you about self fulfilling prophecies?”

Killer decided to take that as a threat and drew out his knife.

Nightmare made an attempt to seem less threatening, having all of his non-essential tentacles tucked away. “I’m not going to hurt them, Killer.”

“you're lying!” he shouted and pointed his knife at him. “i’ve seen it happen. you're going to do it, i know it! you're just trying to get my guard down.”

He’s seen it happen?

“Are you having nightmares, Killer?”

He didn't answer.

He couldn't reason with him now, he supposed. Nightmare decided the best course of action was to simply leave. He sunk into the ground.

Killer frantically scanned the area, taking a few minutes until he confirmed that Nightmare did indeed leave. He knelt down, curling in on himself as he sighed. The cats walked back over to him.

Nightmare reappeared in the kitchen, startling the two skeletons that were currently on the couch of the other half of the room.

Usually they wouldn't be startled at his appearance. At least, not anymore. He caught sight of the drinks in their hands, they seemed to be similar. He scrunched his eye in disgust. “What the hell is that?”

They were surprised at his language. Usually he didn't express surprise like that, or at all. Dust and Horror looked at each other as if neither had an answer.

Instead of verbally answering, Dust thrust the drink out. Was he offering it to him?

Nightmare got closer to inspect it. When he reached out to grab it, he saw the two’s sockets widen. He brought it up to his face, the goop covering his mouth melted away as he took a sip.

Oh god. That was awful.

He refrained from spitting it out and managed to brute-force his way into swallowing. A whole shiver rippled throughout his body, and it didn't help that it literally made the goo on his body ripple for a bit.

Horror and Dust remained painfully silent.

Nightmare calmly handed the glass back to Dust. “It's horrible,” he deadpanned.

“he was just trying to show you it, not…” Horror didn't even have to finish his sentence.

Oh great, he misunderstood. He didn't even have to drink that. It was painfully obvious he was embarrassed, even after he covered his mouth once more. “Why do you drink such awful concoctions?”

Dust shrugged, wiping the rim of the glass with his gloves before resuming the consumption of that horrific beverage.

Nightmare refrained from showing his disgust. He moved over to one of the chairs near the couch to sit down. All of his tentacles disappeared, revealing the rest of his cloak that covered most of his legs.

Dust spat his drink out while Horror gawked.

Nightmare flinched, “What?”

Dust gestured at the lower half of his body.

“you have legs!” Horror exclaimed.

“Of course I have legs!? I’m a skeleton like you two.”

“you’re a skeleton?”

Nightmare realized how little they knew about him. “What did you think I was?”

Horror scrunched his face, unsure how to answer. “not…a skeleton?? what's up with all the slime then?”

“I suppose you could call it melted parts of my own body fused with a surplus of magic. Would you care to see how I look without the ‘slime’?”

Horror was very confused at his willingness to be open about this. Which was fair. From their point of view, all of this was coming from nowhere.

Dust, however, immediately signed “yes.” It seemed like his curiosity trumped his confusion.

“Alright,” he said. He focused, shifting his energy into one concentrated point: his forehead. The usual glowing cyan crescent moon on his forehead grew into a full moon as the goop on his body disappeared, revealing white bones with a blue tint to them underneath.

The silence that came after was deafening. The way Horror and Dust looked at him felt different. It was like they saw him as a different person like this.

Sure he was less menacing in this form, but he didn't think he looked that different.

He did. He totally did. He was even smaller like this. He was probably shorter than the two if he were to stand.

“you look so young…” Horror said.

He didn't like the tone of his voice. Maybe this was a mistake.

He quickly changed back to his usual form. The dark goo flowed out from the moon like a waterfall until his whole body was coated in it once again. He immediately felt more comfortable. He decided he was never going to do that again. “As I said, I’m a skeleton like you two.”

“you’ve mentioned you had a brother, does that mean—”

“My brother is not a Papyrus, no. He looks just like me. I did not have a world like yours nor was I ever like you. In fact, I did not even have a world.”

Horror blinked at the onslaught of information. He just learned more about him than he ever has the entire year. “you're pretty chatty today.” About yourself, he meant.

“I suppose it's the torture for today.”

“torture for us or for you?”

At this point, what was the difference? Nightmare thought, but it went unsaid.

Once Dust finished his drink, he got up to put the glass in the sink. When he tried to go to the hallway, Nightmare opened a portal underneath him to get him back on the couch. He glared at Nightmare in protest.

“Dust, I know you and Killer are having some…complications right now,” he said, completely changing the subject. “Although it's provided plenty of energy for me, you two can't avoid each other forever.”

“but wouldn't that benefit you?” Horror questioned.

“I’m not going to risk Dust killing him out of anger.” That wasn't even an exaggeration considering their game of Monopoly the other day. He had to physically wrench them apart when Killer made him bankrupt. “Go make up with each other.” He summoned a portal underneath Dust, sending him to the forest where Killer was.

Dust managed to land on his feet, luckily. He didn't want to fall on his face right in front of Killer to give him something to laugh about.

Killer damn near screamed at his sudden appearance, but he played it off by coughing into his hand when he realized it was just him. Now all the cats around him were skittering about frantically. “miss me that much you had to drop by?”

Dust was completely unfazed by his pun, leaving Killer to awkwardly laugh at his own joke.

“‘m pretty proud of that one,” he mumbled as if to voice disappointment.

Of course he was proud, it was a miracle whenever he could think of a pun on the spot. It was something he was oddly insecure about, not being able to come up with jokes that well.

Dust supposed it was a reminder that he was hardly “Sans” anymore. It seemed like such a small thing until you thought about it. Dust knew he’d use humor to cope or to cheer people up. It was second nature, a skill polished throughout his life, even. To suddenly lose that ability…he wondered if Killer looks at his past self and sees a stranger.

“you just gonna stand there and stare at me like i stabbed your soul?”

While he wasn't skillful at punning, he sure was great at handcrafting every sentence he says to annoy him.

Killer’s cheerful facade dropped, “seriously, are you? i’m having a moment with the cats.”

Is that what he's been replaced with? Cats?

Even though Nightmare ordered him to make up with him, he really didn't feel like talking at the moment.

He wondered what Killer would do if he just continued to stand here in silence. Knowing Killer, he won’t be able to just ignore him.

Yet he turned around to face the cats. He knelt down to pick one up—the one with a pure brown coat—that one was his favorite. He named it something stupid but Dust couldn't remember it off the top of his head at the moment.

He just kinda held the cat for a little while, petting it in silence.

And then after a bit he stopped. The cat whined at this and hopped out of his arms.

He sighed. “i…i’m sorry, okay?” he finally said.

Pathetic, he couldn't even face him when he said it.

“i shouldn't have messed with you like that. i thought you were playing along. i forgot that…i refused to believe you really did care about me and it took you stabbing my soul to get me to realize.”

He had to pause as his breath shuddered, probably trying to keep himself composed. He still hasn't turned around or stood up for that matter.

“i don't know if i can care about you back. i care now, but,” his voice wavered, “you’ve seen how unstable my soul is. at any moment it’ll just snap back to the same old shape of a target and then boom, nothing! a pillow could care about you more than me.”

“i think all i’d do is hurt you,” Killer said. He turned his head to look at him, “you wouldn't want that, would y—woah,” only to see Dust right in front of him, crouched down to be at eye level.

Killer raised a brow bone, having zero clue where this was going.

Dust put a hand on his own chest and then gently brought out his soul.

Killer’s eyes blew wide open.

It was odd, seeing a normal monster soul for the first time in awhile. Well, it wasn't entirely normal. It was pale white, covered in cracks, and an unusual dim glow of red outlined the edges. He could guess where that came from and it wasn't LV.

Before he could ask what his deal was, Dust spoke, “get your knife.”

Oh, HELL no.

His own soul (metaphorically) jumped out of his body at the instruction. He immediately knew where this was going and he did not like it.

“no!” Killer objected. “the hell’s gotten into you? i’d kill you!”

Dust looked as calm as ever. “you're scared,” he noted.

“of course i…” Killer furrowed his brow bones. “you’re trying to prove a point aren't you?”

He saw Dust’s smile curl up. Bastard.

He held his soul out to him as if it wasn’t the culmination of his being. “hold it,” he said.

Killer stared at it, dumbfounded. “i’m not gonna—”

“forget the knife. hold it,” he repeated, apparently switching his approach to this.

Killer shakily held a hand out, allowing Dust to place his soul in it.

He dare not move, as if it was a motion sensor bomb. Nevertheless, he couldn't stop himself from trembling.

He shifted his gaze from the soul to Dust’s eyelights, unsure of which one to look at.

i could kill him. all i’d have to do is squeeze my hand shut. it’d be so easy. would it pop?

He didn't want that. God, he didn't want that at all.

“you're not going to kill me,” Dust stated like he was so sure of himself.

“i could.”

“do you want to?”

“god no.”

“and my soul’s still fine,” Dust remarked.

“what the fuck are we doing, dust?” Killer asked, looking at the soul in his hand in disbelief.

“i dunno, trust exercise?” he offered as an answer.

“pretty intense trust exercise,” he chuckled half-heartedly in an attempt to ease his tension.

“and stabbing your soul wasn't?”

“i wouldn't call a murder attempt a ‘trust exercise’.”

“you know i didn't want to kill you,” he reminded.

“right. you want your soul back now?”

Dust gave a nod.

Killer carefully handed his soul back to him. A moment later it was back in his rib cage.

He let out a sigh of relief, keeping his gaze on Dust to ensure that he hadn't become his namesake. “we chill?”

Dust smirked. “we chill.”

A portal to the kitchen opened near Killer and Dust immediately after.

They could see Nightmare and Horror sitting on the couch looking right at them. Nightmare was slowly clapping in a mocking manner.

“were you two watching the whole fucking time?!” Killer barked. He threw his hood over his head to cover his blushing face.

“Not the most conventional way I’ve seen two people make up,” Nightmare remarked. “It was certainly interesting to watch.”

“my life's not a goddamn sitcom, asshole!”

Nightmare guffawed. He was fucking with him and it was absolutely working.

Killer crossed his arms and pouted. He gave Dust a “can you believe this guy?” look.

Nightmare’s laughing ceased suddenly, “Hurry up and get inside. I have something to give you three.”

“oh, goody, is it a bomb?” Killer asked sarcastically. Despite his sass, he stepped through the portal alongside Dust.

“No, actually.”

A portal opened on the ceiling between Nightmare, Horror and them.

A shopping cart with a huge pile of clothes on it crashed down onto the floor.

It took Killer a second to realize those were the same clothes they left that time they went shopping, when they first encountered Fresh. He reached down to pick up one of the articles of clothing, they were still in fairly good shape. “how the fuck?”

“That is Killer’s gift, of course.” He looked at Dust. A wrapped present appeared in his hands. “As for you, I wasn't quite sure what would be appropriate for you.”

Dust cautiously took the present.

“how come he gets his gift all fancifully wrapped?” Killer complained. He was currently trying to get all the clothes back in the shopping cart. Alas, the pile he made the first time was a one-time feat.

“Because he's less annoying.”

Dust tore the wrapping paper and opened the box that was inside. He looked at the contents inside blankly.

“what is it?” Killer questioned.

Dust reached inside to take it out and show them.

Killer and Horror’s sockets widened as that familiar red-orange came into view.

It was Papyrus’s cape.

Nightmare was unsure what reaction this gift would get. He's seen other Sanses from Dusttale universes wearing it. It supposedly had sentimental value.

It seemed that Dust was also unsure how to react. There were conflicting emotions, Nightmare knew that much.

He carefully put the cape back in the box and signed a “thank you”.

“As for you, Horror,” He held out what appeared to be a rock at first.

Horror inspected it, realizing it was a phone—his phone. He was irked by the idea of Nightmare going to his home universe just to grab this. At least, he hoped he didn't do anything but grab this.

However, the phone might as well have been a rock. He doubted Nightmare knew the phone wouldn't even work. The thing hasn't been charged in years.

And then it caught him off guard by ringing. He flipped it open, seeing the words on the screen indicate that the call was coming from his brother.

He tried to stop his hopes from getting up. He reminded himself this could be a prank call and it wasn't his brother at all.

“Go on, answer it,” Nightmare urged.

This had to be a prank. Papyrus’s phone wouldn't be able to work there was no power—and even then he was in a completely different universe.

He answered the phone.

“SANS!” Papyrus’s voice immediately rang out. “FINALLY, I THOUGHT YOU’D NEVER ANSWER! YOU’RE ALIVE! OH MY GOD YOU’RE ACTUALLY ALIVE!” He sounded on the verge of tears.

“bro?”

“YES, SANS?”

“just checking that it's actually you and not a prerecorded message,” Horror managed to say. The smile on his face grew as it became genuine. He saw Dust and Killer watching him in his peripheral vision.

“I COULD SAY THE SAME THING. I WASN’T SURE THIS WOULD EVEN WORK!”

“how are you calling right now? was the core fixed?” he dared to ask.

“OH. UH, NO. ABOUT THAT…” Papyrus trailed off going quiet for a minute.

“what happened?” His grin faltered slightly.

“DO NOT FREAK OUT.”

“you're gonna make me freak out if you don't tell me what happened.”

“OUR WORLD WAS KINDA DESTROYED, BADLY.”

Horror’s eye socket went blank. “what?!” he shouted.

Papyrus was quick to clarify, “BUT I’M DOING FINE! ACTUALLY, WE RELOCATED TO A MUCH MORE HOSPITABLE PLACE! SURE OUR HOUSE AND THE ENTIRETY OF SNOWDIN IS COMPLETELY GONE FOREVER BUT THERE’S FOOD HERE AND MAGIC AND I CAN CALL YOU! SPEAKING OF WHICH—WHERE IN THE WORLD HAVE YOU BEEN!?”

Horror sighed in relief. He glanced at Nightmare, who looked eerily indifferent to all of this, before he answered his question. “i kinda got kidnapped by an otherworldly entity, sorry bro.”

“YOU AND YOUR WEIRD HOBBIES, WARN ME NEXT TIME. I THOUGHT YOU DIED. THE ENTIRETY OF SNOWDIN DESCENDED INTO ABSOLUTE CHAOS WITH YOU GONE—ALSO THE WORLD-DESTROYING THINGY PROBABLY PLAYED A ROLE IN THAT TOO.”

“aw geez, is everyone else okay?”

“YEA, EVEN UNDYNE.”

Horror’s expression soured at the mention of her. “well, that's great,” he said sarcastically. He vaguely heard someone else on the other side of the call. From what he heard it didn't sound like anyone he knew.

“OH, ALREADY?” Papyrus replied to the unidentified person. “I SEE,” he sounded disheartened. “BROTHER, I NEED TO END THE CALL NOW BEFORE IT TEARS A HOLE IN THE MULTIVERSE.”

“huh?”

“I’LL SEE YOU LATER, LOVE YOU!”

“love you too,” Horror managed to say before Papyrus hung up. The second the call ended he felt incredibly drained. He felt like he got a mental whiplash when he looked at the room he was in.

Killer seemed to tune out the last bit of their conversation as he managed to get all the clothes piled back on the shopping cart. It seemed like Dust helped him.

Nightmare was also looking at those two rather than at him. He wondered if he was eavesdropping on the phone call or not.

It's been an entire year since they've been here. He had no idea how much longer this would last. He didn't even know what would happen after.

“I will be out for the rest of the day,” Nightmare announced, opening a portal behind himself. “We are stocked up on supplies, correct?”

“you got it, chief,” Killer piped.

“Not my name…” Nightmare muttered before leaving.

Killer sighed the moment the portal closed, looking up at the pile of clothes. “i have no idea how i’m getting this to my room.”

“bet you can't get it to your room by the end of the day,” Horror said, still recovering from that call.

“hey. you're totally wrong.”

Horror shrugged, “time's ticking.”

Killer then decided that pushing the cart would be an effective way to get it to his room. To his credit, it wasn't until he was met with the obstacle that was the doorway to the hall that his plan became flawed. He turned his head to Horror. “so what are we betting exactly?”

#utmv fic #the bad sanses #nightmare sans #horror sans #killer sans #dust sans

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 12 days

Note

AITA for not informing my pet's previous owner that he died?

I adopted a gecko off of Kijiji around a year ago. She had a different name when I adopted her but I ended up renaming her Fingergun when I adopted her. It was clear that her original owner cared about her quite a lot and after talking to her, I realized she was only rehoming because she was moving into university and couldn't bring Fingergun with her.

After I picked Fingergun up, her owner messaged asking how she was settling in and I sent her some pictures and said she was doing well with some specifics on her behaviour. Over the next week, her owner messaged every day or two for updates. I was happy to provide them, especially since it was obvious that Fingergun was very loved and cared for. I rescue and rehabilite reptiles fairly frequently (Not as an official rescue, just over Kijiji or Facebook Marketplace, sometimes partnering with official rescues) so it's rare for me to see somebody in as good condition as Fingergun. It's important to note that I got Fingergun for myself, not as a rescue/rehab case (Which I usually rehome or pass on to some rescues I partner with when I can).

Over the next few months the requests for updates kept coming but less and less frequently until around three months ago before Fingergun died, when they stopped completely. I expected that her owner had moved on and I didn't want to send unsolicited updates in case I jeopardized the healing process or annoyed her or something.

Well, around three months ago I had a house fire due to entirely unpreventable causes. I wasn't home and was honestly devastated when I found out. I lost Fingergun and one of my cats (I was at the vet with two new rescues and had just dropped the other cat at the groomers when it happened).

Although I only had her for a year, I really loved Fingergun. I handled her every day and we were working on some minimal training.

The whole issue here came up only recently, about a week ago.

Because there hadn't been any more messages from Fingergun's original owner, I decided not to tell her what had happened. I didn't see any reason to upset her out of the blue, especially when I know it was mid-exams for her uni and I hadn't heard from her in months. I honestly thought the update requests had stopped until she messaged a week ago, asking how Fingergun was doing.

I was honest and told her what had happened. I also sent her a couple pictures of Fingergun from the day before. She was silent for a day or so before she responded and essentially asked why I kept it from her/didn't tell her sooner and insinuating that the fire didn't happen/I made it up to cover something up.

I haven't responded yet since I'm still busy dealing with the insurance and stuff from the fire and I'm honestly at a bit of a loss here. I'm not good with people, there's a reason I refer my critters, but am I the asshole here? Should I have told her when it happened or even just lied and told her everything was fine when she asked?

#aita #am i the asshole #pet death cw

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fallinforerling · 1 year

Text

LOVE ISN'T ETERNAL. chapter 5 - jb

Song recommendation for today's update: Tink - Toxic

ೃ⁀➷ jude’s masterlist

ೃ⁀➷ jude’s taglist

ೃ⁀➷ masterlist

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The rest of the night went without you even noticing, mostly because of the extra drinks you had after telling the girls about the little selfie with Gio. And as you supposed, they loved how well played it was.

Another thing you could still remember vividly while you managed to open your eyes was that even after you said goodbye, you encountered Gio once again on the dance floor.

You danced together for a couple of songs. It was obvious you were having fun; Gio always behaved like an absolute sweetheart, super respectful, and even though you knew some flirting was there, he never made it obvious. He was good company.

Now you were fully awake, having a dejávu when you realized Mia and Nikki were sleeping in the same position from a few days ago. Odd.

“I can't believe we partied until four A.M” Mia's voice, sounding raspy as always when she drank too much, made you notice that she was also waking up. “Now I'm seeing the consequences of my actions.”

“Yeah...” You agreed, feeling how your body was heavier than usual, making it difficult to move. So you didn't. “I think I'll live here forever, I don't have the energy to get up. Not today, not ever again."

“What time is it?” Nikki whispered, still wrapped in two covers. You didn't even had two covers on your bed the day prior... Where did she find them?

“Hold on...” Mia moved around the bed for a moment before letting herself fall again into the mattress. “Oh God, it's 3 p.m”

The three of you gasped before laughing. Yep, that seemed reasonable.

“We need to eat something or else.” You said after a while, making sure none of them had fallen asleep again. “Are any of you craving some shawarma?”

“Hell yeah.” Nikki said, still wrapped around the covers, but fully awake as far as you could tell.

“Nice, let me grab my phone.” While getting up, you started to see the disaster the three of you caused around the bedroom. Your clothes were everywhere, the bathroom door was fully open and even being far away you could notice that three drunks were there. “Great...”

You didn't have the energy to care for cleaning right now. The bags were strangely safe, carefully placed by your vanity. Priorities. Luckily, all your stuff was still in your purse, which was a miracle of its own. The only strange thing was your phone, which was buzzing like crazy. The battery was almost gone, but you could see the many notifications popping up second after second.

“What the...?” You took it, fearing the worst. “Gio's story...” Now that you thought about it, maybe being posted and tagged on a famous footballer's insta story wasn't the smartest option when you wanted to keep a low profile. “Fuck my life...” While you unlocked it, Nikki and Mia were out of bed, looking at you with curiosity.

“What happened?” Mia said, arching an eyebrow.

“I think I just exposed myself to the world.” You said, gasping when you saw that most of the notifications were from Instagram.

"What do you mean "exposing yourself”? You didn’t post a nude picture, did you?” Nikki questioned, getting out of the covers.

“I think that’ll be easier to fix if that was the case…” You unlocked your phone, trying to calm down and not succumb to the rising panic you were starting to feel.

Tons of notifications were still coming, but you decided to go directly to Instagram and find out what kind of disaster was starting to unfold. Your notifications were up to at least 5.000 only in mentions and following requests. Thank God you kept your IG private. Before your trembling fingers made a mistake, you went to your DMs, which were even worse than the notifications because not only hundreds of people were asking who you were, but also sending you videos and photos. With a deep breath you started to open the recent ones.

“What’s going on? You look pale.” Mia got up from the bed, taking your arm carefully. “Come on, sit before you pass out.”

“I feel like I’m about to…” You sat between the two of them, letting them see your phone screen. They peeked over your shoulders, gasping when they saw the amount of DMs.

Some of the messages were just things like “Are you Gio’s new girlfriend?” or “Are you friends with Gio? Give him my number lmao” while others were worse, not because they were threatening you or anything similar, but because they mentioned Jobe’s twitter photos or that people were sharing videos of you dancing with Gio last night.

You went through some of them, feeling more and more anguished by the minute.

“Is this you with Gio????”

“Oh my god, are you dating both Jobe AND Gio?”

“Are you the same girl from the photos of the twitter threat?”

“You look kinda similar to Jobe’s new girlfriend”

“It’s giving clout chaser”

“Are we seeing the rise of the next WAG?”

“You’re pretty asf”

“Omg, I could swear on my mom I’ve seen you before in Dortmund with Judeeeee”

The last caught your attention more than you wanted. It wasn’t that impossible, since you did go out for walks with Jude after his practice or drive him around town when you were visiting. But back then it was impossible for the few people that saw the two of you together to figure out who you were. Now, with your face out in the open, maybe more people could start recognizing you.

God knows what could happen.

The absolute worst part of all this was people recognizing you from that stupid Twitter threat. You weren’t dating Jobe, but who was going to believe you? It was better to stay silent while figuring out what to do from now on.

“Look, someone’s calling you.” You blinked, coming back to the real world. You didn’t even notice that you spaced out for a bit.

The screen read “Unknown number”

“You take that, I’ll see what’s all this fuss about.” Nikki got up, reaching for her bag.

“I’ll go make us some coffee.” Mia gave you a look that said I’m sorry.

“I’ll help you with that” Nikki almost ran after Mia, giving you that look of sympathy you hated before leaving. The door closed behind them with a click. Now you were alone with this call.

You didn’t know why, but you knew it was Jude.

“Hello?” You picked it up before it went to voicemail, regretting it almost immediately.

“I’ve been calling you all morning! The fuck is happening? Why are you on Gio’s IG?” Yep, that was Jude’s voice.

You didn’t know what you were expecting when the first call after the breakup happened. Feeling excited? Hopeful? Happy? None of that was happening at the moment; you were pissed. Because how dare he call after weeks of silence to confront you about what you did as a single woman?

“Excuse me?” You said, feeling your blood boil. “Why would I give you an explanation?”

“Because you’re my-”

“Your what, Jude?” Your voice remained firm while your heart shattered all over again. Why was he doing this? “Your ex-girlfriend? Yes, I remember. I’m not your problem anymore, why are you calling me?”

“You’re still my friend, you know that” Ouch. “You didn’t even told me you were going out with freaking Gio.” Why was he mad at that?

“And why should I inform you about that?” You wouldn’t admit you just happened to run into Gio yesterday.

"Because now people think you're his fucking girlfriend!"

“So what?! You didn’t let me know when you went out partying and when you made out with some girl a week ago, did you? Do you even care if people assume that's your fucking girlfriend?”

The line fell in an awkward silence for a few seconds. You almost laughed.

“How do you know about that?” At least he didn’t try to deny it.

“Why does it matter?” You avoided answering him. “You’re acting like a hypocrite. Why are you calling me? To make me feel bad about moving on and having fun with my friends, just as you did a week after you broke up with me?”

“That’s not what-”

“You know what? I don’t really care what you are trying to do here. Don’t call me again.” And you hung up.

Before he could call again, you blocked his number. And then, like a wall collapsing, you started to sob and then to cry.

“Fucking prick!” You wanted to throw your phone, but that wasn’t going to make you feel better. You hated him more than ever. And you hated that he had this effect on you.

“Honey! What happened?” Both girls came running into the room, startled by your scream.

“That fucking asshole!” You said, unable to stop your sobs. Were you crying because of how mad you were or because you still felt a little bit of hope about this call being different? “He dared to call me to ask questions about why I was with Gio last night… Like he had any rights to do shit like that.”

Your friends hugged you without saying anything, knowing what you needed right now.

When were you going to get over him?

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stevesbestgirl · 2 years

Text

Find Me

Morpheus x f!Reader

2523 Words

Warnings: mild angst, mostly fluff

A/N: Traveling for work and on mobile, sorry for typos and/or lack of polish. This is one of my recent favorites- enjoy!

When you'd died, Death had taken one look at you, a twinkle of something well-meaning and devious in her eyes, and disappeared. You hadn't known then that she was asking her brother Dream if your spirit could reside in his realm, but now you worked in the library with Lucienne, shelving new books as they came into existence and occasionally serving at Dream's side as an assistant.

The Dream Lord had always been hesitant to ask for your services; the broody king seemed to think his feelings for you were both unreciprocated and unnoticed, both of which were untrue.

After falling asleep in the library more times than you'd care to admit, you noticed you would often wake up in bed. It wasn't until after falling asleep there three nights in a row, Morpheus arrived on the fourth night clearly expecting to find you asleep.

Granted, he made a quick recovery, admonishing you for working so many late nights. But it was obvious that he'd been checking to see if you were still working, just in case you needed to be brought home.

You'd asked him, in a rare, exhaustion-induced moment of flirty bravery, if that was the case and he'd quite nearly stuttered when he'd insisted he only wants his employees well rested.

So you did enjoy teasing him a bit, making vague comments that made him blush, when he remembered to make himself blush, that is. There was always a specific moment of silence when he would gaze at you, the true meaning of your words having just resonated with him, where you would wonder if today was the day he confessed, but he never had.

Finally, realizing you would have to make the first move, you blurted out your request, "My lord, would you grant me a request?"

He didn't look up from his papers, "What is the request?"

"Play a game with me."

That got his attention, "A game? To what end?"

"I can't disclose the purpose, but I assure you, it is important." You waited, holding your breath; you knew he was annoyed with his work. Either he would be stubborn- the most likely outcome- and insist he finish his work, or he would give it a chance as a welcome break.

He met your earnest gaze, hands clasped behind your back, finding it difficult to say no, "Very well. What is the game?"

"I will hide somewhere in the Dreaming and you must find me."

Dream cocked an eyebrow, "You do realize that I will always know your location in the Dreaming?"

"I do."

"Not much of a game then, is it?" Dream thought himself rather sharp, but he did not understand.

And you only smiled, "Trust me."

He did. "Very well." And as you scampered out of his throne room, he found his mouth curling into a smile, "I will see you very soon." The giggle that followed you out the door lifted his spirits, if only slightly.

Morpheus waited what he thought was an appropriate amount of time before leaving his throne, sensing your presence deep within the library. He smirked; the library was the most complex part of his realm and objectively the best choice of a hiding place. But not for the Dreaming's creator.

In the blink of an eye, Morpheus found himself in the library, gazing out at the expanse of shelves lined with books. He could feel your presence here; like a half-dissipated perfume cloud, it was distinctly you, guiding him through the twists and turns of the stacks until he found you, curled up on the floor with a book at the end of a shelf, tucked far in the deepest corner.

Your head perked up in an instant as he rounded the corner, a smile lighting up your face at the sight of him. The quickness with which you greeted him so cheerfully made his chest constrict with longing, inadvertently pulling his lips into a frown, which in turn made your brows knit together with concern, smile fading, "Have I displeased you, my lord?"

"Not at all," he gave his head a cursory shake. "But I have found you."

One corner of your mouth quirked, but your expression remained apprehensive, "You did. That means you've won."

Dream watched you carefully mark your place in your book and stand, "As you knew I would."

Another smile glimmered through, "I didn't ask you to play to see if you could win."

Morpheus felt as though he were missing something, "What was the purpose then?"

"To see if you'd want the prize." And there you stood, back straight, hands clasped behind your back, gazing anxiously at your boss, the King of Dreams.

It took several moments of contemplation for Morpheus to understand what that prize was- and why you looked so afraid of his response, "You?"

"I know I'm only a mortal, but I thought if you were willing to come find me-"

The crestfallen look on your face had Morpheus floundering for more words, "No, you are-"

The sharp, pained breath you sucked in at that, preparing for the pain of rejection made Morpheus abandon words entirely, reaching for you instead. Arms wrapping around your waist, he pulled you into a heated kiss, trying to convey what he hadn't been able to put into words.

He held on tight, like he was afraid you would disappear- and he thought with his track record, you just might. But his mouth on yours was gentle and deliberate, with all of the purpose of someone who'd imagined this moment countless times, never believing it would be real.

And by the time he broke the kiss, resting his forehead on yours, he'd found his words, whispering them against your lips, "I will always find you."

Since that day, you'd taken to hiding somewhere in the Dreaming each time Morpheus grew too focused on his work. He was passionate and dedicated, but once your note reading "Find me," was discovered, usually by either Lucienne or Morpheus himself, he wasted no time in doing so. He made sure to spend some time with you, bringing himself back to center and recalibrating, so to speak. But when you fought, it was a bit different.

You and Morpheus had only one major argument in your time together; you'd found out about Nada. Admittedly, you were jealous of the way Morpheus had loved her. Or more accurately, you were jealous that he'd pursued her so fervently.

You'd pined for the Dream King for years before making the first move and according to him, he'd been pining just the same. You had assumed he was shy- after all, it matched his broody demeanor rather nicely, but you knew better now. And that wasn't even mentioning the fact that if his ex was still being tormented in hell for rejecting him, he clearly wasn't over it. It was cruel and unnecessary and you told him so.

"You think me unfair in my judgment, my love?"

You met the deep pools of dancing light in his eyes, "I do. If it wasn't unfair back then, it certainly is now."

"Her punishment was just. She denied me," he insisted.

"An eternity in Hell because she told you no? Not even because she didn't want to be with you, but because she knew it would end badly. Would you prefer she say yes out of obligation?" You heaved a sigh, "I understand that her rejection hurt and you might have felt justified in the moment, but I would have expected someone I respect so much to realize his mistake far sooner."

He seemed to puff up a bit, "I am the King of Dreams and-"

You recognized the self-righteous tone that preceded a monologue, "I know Dream, you are one of the Endless, ancient and powerful." You offered a sad smile, "You're right, no mortal should dare to question you. I'll remember my place in the future."

You could see thinly veiled frustration on his face, "You know that is not what I meant."

"Then what did you mean?"

That only seemed to make him angrier, accusing, "You- you are being deliberately obtuse."

"Because I disagree with you?"

"Because you refuse to see-"

"No, Morpheus. I refuse to bend to your will, as you are accustomed to mortals doing. And in doing so, I am no different than Nada. So I demand you send me to Hell, right now, for the sake of fairness." He met your hard gaze, his jaw locked in place. You almost expected to blink and find yourself in Hell, but instead, it was Dream who disappeared, leaving you alone in his chambers.

You huffed, "So that's how it is?" And you set off to find another place to hide.

Two days ticked by, Morpheus well aware that he hadn't seen you. He assumed you were merely keeping your distance from him. It wasn't until Lucienne approached the ill-tempered and sullen being occupying Lord Morpheus' throne to ask when you would be returning that he realized you weren't only avoiding him.

A flare of irritation at you having abandoned your post sent Lucienne back to the library while Morpheus set to finding you. He also felt a fraction of worry; usually when you played this game, you left him a note. Did you not want him to find you?

Your presence was easier to find this time, even despite the two days having passed. Morpheus could feel you like a beacon of warmth, following your path into the turrets of the palace, up to the topmost tower. There he found you asleep, your bed-things robbed from your chambers and piled under the window in something he would neither call a bed or a nest.

You didn't seem to mind the odd sleeping quarters, tangled up in the dense array of plush blankets, your face buried in a large pillow you clutched to your chest. He would bet that underneath the covers, you had your leg thrown over the pillow, holding it tight against your body like you usually did with him and he felt a strange sense of jealousy. He'd missed you over these two days.

He had planned to scold you for shirking your work, but he found himself crouching beside you, his fingers brushing over your cheek, "Wake, my love. It is time to return."

Your eyes fluttered open and you smiled sleepily at the sight of Morpheus, "You found me."

He chuckled softly, his thumb brushing over your face, "I told you I would."

"Thought you were mad at me," you mumbled blearily, sitting up and rubbing your eyes.

"I am not angry with you. But I must ask, why here?" He glanced around the rarely used tower curiously.

"I wanted you to walk up all those stairs," you mumbled, still not quite awake. When your vision cleared, your head seemed to clear with it, "Wait, no- I'm mad at you!"

With another chuckle, he pulled you from the blankets, carrying you bridal-style back down the spiral stairs, "We will discuss it once you are back where you belong."

"Where's that?"

"With me."

And when Morpheus disappeared, you stayed. You and Lucienne tried, despite the frustration and failure, to keep the Dreaming functioning with only the two of you. But without Morpheus and his power, the Dreaming decayed around you, your home crumbling more with each day that passed.

After the first decade, you disappeared. You left a note for Lucienne and one for Morpheus when he returned and simply vanished. Despite your request that you be left to your solitude, Lucienne searched for you, but she found nothing, as she explained to Morpheus upon his return.

"What do you mean you can't find her? There is hardly any of the Dreaming left for her to hide in; you are certain she hasn't left like the others?" He was anxious, teetering on the brink of panic; even he couldn't feel your presence.

Lucienne had the tact to not acknowledge the rare moment of insecurity from the Dream King, "My lord, she swore to me in this letter that she would not leave the Dreaming."

'That was ten years into my century-long imprisonment. Much has changed." His throat constricted at that; his home was in shambles, his people scattered, and his love possibly lost.

"Not everything has changed, my lord." Lucienne held out a sealed envelope with "Morpheus" written on it in your handwriting.

He was grateful he wasn't mortal, as his hand certainly would have trembled as he took the letter. Opening as carefully as he could in his haste, Dream pulled a single sheet of paper from the envelope, reading, "Find me."

"Excuse me, Lucienne." Lucienne nodded, watching him hurry off in the direction of the library.

Dream took the steps to the second floor two at a time, despite their crumbling edges and structural failures. The library itself was failing, most of the shelves empty, a few stray papers scattered over the floor. Discarding his composure, he ran through the stacks, desperate to be proven wrong. Rounding the corner, his heart leapt and promptly sank; you were there, exactly like you'd been all those years ago, a book in your hands, seated on the floor.

But you were different now; the inner glow that Morpheus had always been able to find you with was dim, a barely flickering candle deep within you. Your light seemed to be ebbing away, though nothing moved in the library. You looked frail and sickly.

Morpheus dropped to his knees, half afraid that if he touched you you'd disappear.

"M-Morpheus," you wheezed. Your voice was weak, but there was no note of surprise.

"I'm here, my love," he lifted you off the floor just like he had in the tower years prior. And as he pulled you from your place, you felt the tethers you'd built fall away, no longer needed.

Morpheus felt them too, tensing as the full weight of the Dreaming seemed to return to his shoulders. He gazed at your weak form in his arms, fury making him tremble, "You were feeding the Dreaming?"

You nodded, the burden off your shoulders making you feel stronger already, "Someone had to keep it alive." The rasp in your voice made it difficult even for you to to believe yourself. It wasn't a dig at Morpheus, but a statement of fact.

"That is not your responsibility."

The cold fury in his voice would have turned your blood to ice under normal circumstances, but you surprised even yourself with the edge in your voice, "It had to be." He bit back his frustrated retort; that conversation could be had later.

"You hide, even now, my love? Why not leave? Why not save yourself? Why hide when you could not know I would return?"

You managed a weak laugh, your strength returning slowly, "It was never a question of if you'd be back, my Dream. Only if you would still find me when you did."

He brushed a kiss over your forehead, "No matter how much time passes, I will always find you."

#morpheus #dream #morpheus x reader #dream x reader #the sandman #dream of the endless #the sandman fanfic #the sandman fluff

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balladeez-nuts · 5 months

Text

Recently I realized how much the song Pacific by Chase Petra fits Furina and Focalors' stories, so I figured I'd do a little (ha.. after finishing, maybe not little) lyric analysis. I'll go through the first verse and chorus from the eyes of Focalors and then move onto Furina as I think it fits better that way

"I hate gambling but I was handed a full house" This could represent how Focalors wanted nothing more than to be human, yet she was still granted divinity instead, which in most cases would be seen as a blessing, that is of course unless you see being human as far greater than any godly abilities.

"The swords on the cards sliced open my palms and all I could do was bleed on the money I’d won" This of course reiterates just how much her granted divinity was anything but a blessing. Not only did she not want godhood, but the threat of the prophecy coming as a package deal with her new responsibility wouldn't have been the easiest thing to handle. Having it all suddenly thrust upon you when your current beloved leader suddenly perishes.

"And everyone was confused, didn’t know why I was blue, couldn’t show them my wounds" Now obviously this one works more with Furina, but I believe I can make a case for connecting it with Focalors as well. As we're going to get into with the next couple of lyrics, Focalors' plan is to deceive everyone in order to deceive the heavenly principles, and though her mind's fortification may be stronger than that of Furina's because of her divinity, that doesn't mean she didn't have her own feelings about their predicament, especially at the beginning I'd wager. Anyone she had contact with prior to being given the seat of the Hydro archon she would have to leave behind, and as she says herself, she does fear her death, if only a little.

"Had to bluff after the game, knowing it wasn’t the same, I put a smile on my face" I could talk about the ways to interpret this line for paragraphs, but I'll spare you for now. What I've landed on, to keep it as simple as I can, are some pieces that are fairly obvious and some that are a little more between the lines. Obviously, the bluffing here would refer to her plan to feign the prophecy coming to pass. For the next bit, however, she knew Furina wasn't the same as her, but no one else would, and she put a smile on Furina's face, which for all intents and purposes is her face. In other words, she would be the only one aside from Furina herself to know that the prophecy as Celestia sees it happening isn't the same as what will actually happen, and she was directly responsible for Furina having to feign happiness for 500 years.

"Cause I looked like I owned the ocean after twenty years of staring at the sea" These lines are far more interesting from Furina's perspective, but for now, I think this part pertains quite well to Focalors recounting how she sat on the seabed until barnacles grew on her. It may well have been 20 years she spent thinking about how to handle and defy the prophecy.

"And all I could think about was the sand at the bottom and how I wished that it would bury me" Perhaps these are her feelings after she realizes her one chance to save her people is to sacrifice herself, to spend centuries in waiting just to gain enough power to destroy herself and her heavenly throne.

"And how the speed of light is far too fast to barrel into a tidal wave" Instead of focusing on the speed of light, I think this line suits more to highlight that the passage of time must have felt a lot quicker for her as a god than it did for Furina. And considering her, albeit small, fear of death, it must have felt far too fast as time barreled towards her impending sacrifice.

"Last night I cried enough to make the Pacific blush" It's not hard to imagine that before she separated the part of her that became Furina from herself she had more of Furina's sensitivity, and that perhaps with the crushing realization of her situation, she had cried quite a bit. It would be no surprise if the Hydro archon's tears were powerful as well, considering how the Hydro dragon's are.

"Now hear me say" I mark this line as the transition from Focalors to Furina, and it could be used for all sorts of moments with her. Luckily for us this line is used multiple times so I shall be using different moments for each one. This one particularly with its contrast to an upcoming line in its intensity in the singer's voice, I think it works quite well with how Furina first attempted her accession speech, polite and reserved. Asking to be heard, but not demanding it.

"I hate gambling but I was handed a full house" Now continuing from what I said above, obviously the more intensely sung part of this line would be her stepping into the intensity of the presence of a god. Onto the lyrics however, it's clear that this personality, no matter how effortlessly it looks, does not come naturally to her. Nevertheless she was handed this destiny, and like she says, it's hers alone to fulfill.

"Lost an ace in the deck don’t know how I’ll get around this" This line and how it focuses more on cards makes me think of Lyney, and the word "lost" fits well within this context as well. The first trial Furina takes up against the traveler she loses, which not only serves as wonderful foreshadowing for her final trial, but also begs the question, did she see it coming? It's quite possible she knew the traveler leaves change in their wake, she likely could see them being a cause of her act being threatened in the future, thus she would likely be questioning how she could possibly avoid that coming to pass.

"And everyone was confused, didn’t know why I was blue, couldn’t show them my wounds" This one doesn't need any stretches to be clear as day. Everyone was confused, most notably Neuvillette and Arlecchino as they had multiple meetings with Furina in an attempt to get any answers from her, yet still she let nothing slip. For her being blue, though it is contradictory to how she consistently presents herself as cheerful or at the very least confident, when Arlecchino threatens her life, she is able to see behind her mask for a moment. And this only serves to further confuse Arlecchino, why would a god be so meek, why would she be crying? As for being unable to show wounds, that is exactly the situation Furina is in. However, what really pulls me to this line is the almost regret in the singer's voice on the last word, this serves very well to highlight Furina's feelings after she, even if only in her inner world, denies confiding in the traveler. It's not exactly regret, but I think the mix of emotion in the singer's tone fits perfectly with where Furina's head was at.

"Had to bluff after the game, knowing it wasn’t the same, I put a smile on my face" I imagine this is when she takes over the trial, rallying the crowd in her favor despite knowing this isn't the same as the trials she is usually a spectator of. It is a trial against her, the "Hydro archon" after all, but despite this she still puts on a smile and stands her ground, confidently.

"Cause I looked like I owned the ocean, after twenty years of staring at the sea" She indeed looks like she owns the ocean, the seas, all of water itself, and she has spent the last 500 years maintaining this image.

"And all I could think about was the sand at the bottom, and how I wished that it would bury me" Through the entirety of her excruciatingly long life, she has been waiting for the end of it, the "magnificent and dramatic" trial that will save everyone. Though she doesn't know yet that this trial she is on is the trial she has been waiting for, I think it's safe to say that this line can represent her feelings about it. All she could think about was the end, and how she wants so desperately for it to come.

"And how the speed of light is far too fast to barrel into a tidal wave" Now this line could either be used in contrast to Focalors' version to show how agonizingly slow it has been for Furina to wait this long, or it could be used to represent how quickly her trial turns against her favor. Her weight with her people now meaning nearly nothing, even the Oratrice is not tilted towards her.

"Last night I cried enough to make the Pacific blush" This one speaks for itself, the countless nights she spent crying, so much so that she starts to not even realize when it slips through during the day, and the Fountain of Lucine carrying so much of her sadness that you can hear her sobbing in its flow if you listen close enough.

"Now hear me say" I think this line, though not holding as much desperation as she did, can fit the mark for her begging for her people to believe her. Even through her own tears, she needs them to believe her, they have to hear her. Anyone needs to hear her, and yet as the trial comes to an end not one person is even looking at her.

"I’m sorry" x8 Her apologies for the people who died due to her inability to take action as a true god would. When she goes to Poisson she is hit with a great amount of guilt, seeing the buildings greatly damaged and the place nearly completely evacuated, the emotion slowly building as each apology is said fits very well with how her emotions boil over, guilt, anger, helplessness, like she says "But what can I even do, other than to repeat meaningless apologies over and over?"

The repeated chorus after this serves well as a reiteration of the previous thoughts, but through an even more emotion heavy lens. The singing ramps up in emotional intensity, and specifically on the line "And how I wish that it would bury me", it sounds very raw. This jumps out to me as Furina telling herself to give up, that there's no point in holding out anymore. Despite how she holds strong, the desire to give up is still there, and this line represents it well.

"I’m sorry" x4 The resignation and sadness in these final apologies fits perfectly with Furina succumbing to the death sentence she thinks she has been given and the crushing realization that she has failed her people and that because of this everyone will die. She does not know this is part of Focalors' plan, she can't know in order for the plan to work, so she's playing her role, now without even knowing it, as the Hydro archon, weeping on her throne.

#I've also had some thoughts about the song Happy Face by Jagwar Twin #beyond the obvious bits the line “death of my generation” also feels rather fitting for the prophecy #Also! Feel free to use any of this for inspiration for anything #If you do happen to make something please send it to me I'd love to see it!#genshin #genshin impact #furina #focalors #nuevillette #arlecchino #lyney

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miracles-and-butterflies · 1 year

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A prompt on how mirabel was treated differently from her family by both them and the the townsfolk, please? Not trying to villainize them but it's obvious she wasn't always treated with respect.

The majority of the town are just indifferent about her, however, there are a few cases where they just don’t like her. She’s not worth any particular attention because she really isn’t any better than the rest of the them. In comparison to the hardworking efforts of her mother and sisters, she’s just useless. The false Madrigal.

To note this is written from Mirabel’s point of view, she has a lot of self-hatred here and that effects her judgement. Also, there is a second part to this, where the issues are resolved, but it’s not so much about Mirabel, so I’ll save it for another time.

Apologies for this taking so long :)

~~~~~~

The False Madrigal

It was no mystery to which Madrigal was the least appreciated in Encanto. The younger children don’t know who she is; the adults remember the disappointment and depression when Julieta didn’t have a boy, and the disastrous gift ceremony that followed. The family, though they meant well, also couldn't be pardoned for neglecting her on occasion - even if she was so mature and responsible and intelligent.

Mirabel finds the dislike amongst her classmates the worst. They complain at her impressive grades and attendance: “That girl’s mouth must be good to get the scores she gets” and “Of course her attendance is great, it’s not like she’s got anywhere else to be” and “She thinks she’s so much better than us with her fancy clothes and Madrigal blood”. They mostly ignore her. Nobody sits or talks to her. Pupils beg the teachers for different partners.

“They say she’s going to be exiled from Encanto. She’s going to leave Colombia.”

“She’s just some stupid jinx.”

“I hear she’s being sent all the way to some convent in France.”

Words fly up and down the path to school, like butterflies circling flower beds. Dolores has probably heard more than Mirabel ever has and she left school years ago. They go all quiet when Mirabel passes, some giggle or whisper. All day, Mirabel carries herself with a straight back, pays attention and does her work, ignoring any malicious comment that comes her way.

But, she’s very aware of her social status in Encanto.

She’s not lonely, that’s just a rumour. She doesn’t mind the lack of companionship, she’s always preferred the time to herself. But it’s when the line between being alone and nonexistent start blurring that it hurts.

Señor Cortez, an old man, once a painter and still a friend of Abuela’s, has been commissioned to paint a mural of the Madrigals in the town square. A thick curtain covers the wall and everyone wonders what is hiding underneath. He works underneath the thing during the day, so Tía Pepa is tasked to bring down the temperature a little.

The children pass it everyday on her way to school. Camilo, impatient as ever, once snuck a peek - only the triplets had been painted at the time, and Tía Pepa punished him with no football for the rest of the day.

This particular day, the mathematics teacher, Señor Molina takes attendance after lunch. The school doesn’t usually, but some students have been caught not coming back from lunch recently. There hadn’t been any issues, beyond one or two pupils not being present, until he turned red.

“Which one of you have added a fake name to the register?” Señor Molina asked. “Speak up. I will not ask again.”

The class fell into a hushed silence, looking around at each other in genuine confusion.

“Well? Someone must have done it! There is no Mirabel Madrigal.”

Señor Molina has taught them for ten years now. To be fair, he’s never taken attendance until now - music has always been after lunch. But surely, he knows the class’ names? He’s taught all the Madrigal grandkids, he comes by and teaches Dolores every new instrument she can get her hands on, he taught Agustín to play piano when he moved in to town. He’s been to all the gift ceremonies, he played at the couples’ wedding.

The class remain dead silent.

Mirabel swallowed. “I am Mirabel?” The girl questioned, raising a hand from her chair in the back corner.

The man went to yell at her, but didn’t. Just gave a comment he’d speak to her after class.

When they time came, he accused her of lying. She explained in a desperately panicked way that it was no prank and that was genuinely her name. It was an odd thing to argue with a teacher about, especially one that knew her family. She had tried to tell him, but—

“I’m sorry, niña. I had no memory of a Mirabel in the Madrigal family. Your family must be very new to town. When did you arrive?”

She’d been so upset. He’d believed that it as her name, but not that she had any relation to the Madrigals. He’d jokingly played along with her briefly.

“Oh yeah, what’s your gift?”

No answer.

And then, “All the Madrigals have gifts. If you were one of them, you’d have a gift.”

Silence.

“It’s very charming that you think yourself one, they are very welcoming like that, but I’m sure your real family are just as special. You should get back to them. Maybe change your surname to avoid further confusion, sí?”

On Mirabel’s way home, she’s picking at loose threads, hands trembling and eyes misty. She didn’t do anything.

She passes by the mural, the curtain long gone. It must’ve been completed today and everyone has already seen the finished mural. Well, everyone except Camilo, who was at school too, and Isabela, who was doing who knows what, because both of them are admiring the piece when she approaches.

Isabela rolls her eyes, “If you didn’t always have your nose in a book, you wouldn’t be late out of school.”

“You look like you’re about to cry, prima!” Camilo comments. “You can go finish your book or schoolwork or whatever when we get back home.”

Mirabel looks away.

The mural is a beautiful, brightly coloured piece. With birds and flowers and butterflies and— Tío Bruno? He’s barely in the family tree in Casita. He looks scary in this picture. In sheer contrast to the elegance of Abuela; the vibrancy of Tía Pepa; the happiness and care of Mama; Dolores is smiling for once, it’s nice to see her happy; Camilo and Antonio look as charming as always - the latter will be pleased by the amount of animals; Isabela without a single flaw, like usual with her photos; Luisa hardly ever has time to pose like their sister, she’ll love it though; the little houses in the corner are…

“I’m not in it?” She asks.

Camilo raises an eyebrow. “Yeah, you are, four-eyes. You’re right there…” he points beside Luisa. He frowns. Then laughs again. “Cortez left you out? That’s hilarious!”

“Abuela was probably worried you’d ruin it.” Isabela suggests, unhelpfully.

“Maybe it was only for gifted Madrigals.”

“Can’t be,” Isabela corrects. “Antonio is on it.”

“Well, that’s not fair! Antonio will get his in two months.” He retorted. He scratched his head. “Señor Cortez just probably doesn’t know you are. Lots of people in the town don’t. I frequently have to tell the children I babysit that I have three cousins.”

“We speak every morning on the way to school,” Mirabel says.

Camilo shrugs, now bored of the conversation.

He then pounces on Isabela, who is framing the wall with fresh flowers. “There’s a gap between you and Dolores, what do you think that’s about?” He smirks as Isabela glares. “Do you think Mariano will be added in? Do you think he’ll start wearing pink? Will there be enough room for all your babies? Will he be kissing you? What if—” He’s cut off, choking on rose petals.

“If Abuela wishes it, yes.” Isabela answers. “Shouldn't you be babysitting at La Casa Ramos by now?”

“I should, but Señora Ramos and baby Adelita have the same questions as me.”

“Señora Ramos is too tired to remember her name, never mind my relationship. And Adelita is literally three months old.”

“And she’s very curious for her age. Honestly, Isabela, how are you gonna raise Mariano’s kids if you don’t know anything about them?”

“I know stuff about kids!”

“Okay, go on then!”

“I know they can be annoying with nonstop questions!”

“Sorry, that doesn’t make sense!”

“You don’t make sense!”

“Your face doesn’t make sense!”

Mirabel pressed her palm against the wall, trying to ground herself.

She was invisible. She was a freak with no name or purpose or family. With no history and no future.

“Sis?”

Mirabel jumped.

“Stop staring creepily at the mural,” Isabela says. “Abuela’s going to be mad at you for being late.” She almost smiles at the thought. “Or maybe she won’t remember you and you’ll be let off.”

The teenager sighed, following Isabela away.

She can’t decide which would be better, honestly. To be known or to be loved?

At dinner, Abuela taps her spoon against her glass, catching the family’s attention. Mirabel can barely see her, Luisa’s large frame blocking her view.

“Before we start, I have an announcement,” Abuela says, smiling. Proper smiling. The same smile she only gives Isabela. “As you all know, our dear friend, Señor Cortez finished his exceptional mural of us in town. To thank him, I have invited him and his wife for dinner tomorrow. I except all of you to make him feel welcomed. He has also asked if he may paint portraits of each of the children over the next week, to go alongside the others. I want each of you looking your best.”

Mirabel wonders if the offer extends to her.

She spent the entire meal pushing food around on her plate to distract from how little she was eating, but nobody noticed. Or if they did, they didn’t care.

“Did you see the moral?” Antonio whispers, with his mouth full at her side.

“Mural,” she corrects, quietly. Nobody hears.

“Did you see it? The moral? Mama says I looked very grown up. I think I look like Papa. I think Tío Bruno looked silly. And Camilo, he is silly.” He stops. “What do you think, Dolores?”

Mirabel trembles. Why is it getting so blurry? She’s wearing her glasses. Tears. She’s crying. Why is it so hard to breathe?

“Can you believe I was only holding one dumbbell?” Luisa asked, to no one in particular. “I get a church would’ve been too big. Not even a donkey? Or two dumbbells? That one was so small. I’m stronger than that.”

“Yeah, and your father should’ve been painted with bee stings.” Pepa added, smirking.

Agustín gasped, dramatically. “I have never been so insulted! You should’ve been painted with lightning.”

“Only if you had a broken arm.”

“Only if you had a hurricane.”

“Only if you had—”

“Stop arguing, you’re worse than the children,” Julieta interrupted. “Agustín, you aren’t even in it. Félix, help me. I thought the mural was very accurate.”

Félix nodded. “Pepi, the mural is to show the best of us, no? We never would have seen Lolita smile if it had been done the way each of us wanted.”

“He should’ve not painted me at all,” Dolores grumbled.

“I think it would be funnier if I was painted as someone else.” Camilo said, shifting into Señora Pezmuerto. “It would really confuse people.”

“Thank you, Isabela. The flowers were an excellent touch.” Abuela complimented, kissing the young woman’s cheek.

She beamed. “I know they were Abuelo’s favourite.”

Mirabel rested her elbows on the table, her head hanging between hunched shoulders. She tried to make herself breathe properly, slow and careful intakes of air, but it was futile.

Everything felt so heavy and light all at once, her heart beating a panicky rhythm. Part of her told her to get a grip, she shouldn’t do this here, she’s embarrassing herself in front of the family. The other part told her she didn’t exist and so nobody would notice. That just made her cry more.

She was suppose to be Mirabel Madrigal!

That’s who she has been since birth, for better or worse.

She had to be Mirabel Madrigal!

Who else could she be?

She is Mirabel Madrigal!

Is or was?

#encanto #ask me anything #my writing #mirabel madrigal #dolores madrigal #alma madrigal #agustín madrigal #camilo madrigal #isabela madrigal #antonio madrigal #luisa madrigal #julieta madrigal #pepa madrigal #bruno madrigal #félix madrigal #mariano guzmán #pedro madrigal #madrigal family

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entomophagouserisian · 6 months

Text

Incoming: some weeb shit I've folded one of my favorite math things into (permutations)

So I recently went back to Revolutionary Girl Utena because my girlfriend hadn't seen any of it yet and I hadn't seen much beyond season 1 (I know it's a foundational work of sword lesbianism and regret not having gone harder on it before).

I was kind of laughing with her about how edgy the translated lyrics of Zettai Unmei Mokushiroku (Absolute Destiny: Apocalypse, the song that plays during the scene where Utena climbs up to the arena every episode) and I noticed that there wasn't a translation for a chant at the end of it that hits my ear in a very pleasing way.

The chant in question:

Mokushi Kushimo

Shimoku Kumoshi

Moshiku Shikumo

The reason there is no translation is that it's mostly gibberish. They took the word "Mokushi" (Apocalypse) and rearranged the syllables in all possible ways to create this particular piece of poetry. The repetition of syllables in this way ends up feeling really good to my brain when I hear it and I have therefore been alternating between trying to memorize it and analyzing its structure for the past few days.

Unfortunately in order to present my process for this analysis I'm going to have to teach you some basics of the mathematical conception of permutations.

(The following aside into math is actually wholly unnecessary to my overall analysis, so feel free to skip to the clearly marked conclusion at the end if it feels like too much or you just don't feel like engaging with it)

A permutation is any reordering of a set of objects. Note that it's just reordering, it doesn't include deletions or the introduction of new elements or new copies of old elements. Commonly if we want to analyze permutations directly, and more specifically to talk about the permutation where the first object goes to 2nd position, second object to 3rd, third object to 1st, we use (123) (read as 1 goes to 2, 2 goes to 3, 3 goes to 1). As well, if the 3rd object stays put and the first two swap places, we would use (12) (read as 1 goes to 2, 2 goes to 1) to describe that. If no change is made, we usually just use (1) (read as one goes to one or the identity) to describe that. (This is very much lacking the rigor and generality that I would've preferred, but this post would've been substantially longer if I'd gone into that much detail, so I'm kind of hoping someone can come in with just this much explanation and understand what comes after)

So my first step in my analysis was to try to record how each of the "words" related to the base/actual word Mokushi (this is admittedly where it would be quite useful for me to change over to hiragana, but I don't know it and don't have a keyboard downloaded for it and don't feel like downloading one just for this post or copy/pasting the hiragana repeatedly, sorry to those of you who study/enjoy Japanese)

So, rewriting the chant as the permutations applied to Mo-Ku-Shi (written this way to emphasize the 3 objects being permuted):

(1) (132)

(123) (12)

(23) (13)

It was fun but didn't get me anywhere (other than verifying every possible ordering was present, but I was already pretty certain of that) so I instead chose to look at what permutation is happening at each step in the sequence rather than just how they compared to the original:

* (132)

(132) (13)

(132) (132)

Here, we see a much more obvious pattern. For all but one transformation, we are permuting by taking the first syllable and pushing to the end, moving the other two toward the beginning of the "word". To hear it, it is very easy to recognize the 2-syllable repeats happening throughout that first pulled my attention. However, this one permutation couldn't be done exclusively if they wanted to cover all possible permutations, as applying (132) 3 times brings you back to the original word, so the third Permutation is instead (13) which just reverses the syllables in this case since there's only 3 of them, but this also notably changes them to a "word" not yet seen which can bring us to the two we are still missing by applying (132) two more times.

It was after all of this that I properly noted that that middle step reversed the previous "word" and I mentally zoomed out to notice

~~~~Conclusion~~~~

the chant is set up to mirror itself. The pairs 1&6, 2&5, and 3&4 are all the reverse of one another, ordered such that for all but one pair heard in sequence, there is a 2-syllable repetition when moving from one word to the next. (Yes it took me this long to notice it was mirrored. No all that permutation work was definitely not necessary, but forgive a [likely autistic] math nerd for her indulgences.)

It's just a silly chant in a cartoon but it made me happy to see permutations in it and I am sincerely moved by the poetry of making gibberish out of a dark and serious word like apocalypse by listing off anagrams.

#Cyn posting #long posting #revolutionary girl utena #weeb shit #math nerdery #permutations #apocalypse #mokushi kushimo shimoku kumoshi moshiku shikumo #Zettai Unmei Mokushiroku #Absolute Destiny: Apocalypse #cyn being very normal about music language math and poetry #this is very hinged behavior

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camelliagwerm · 8 months

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Possibly interesting Pathfinder lore for you: the vampire nobility of Caliphas hates the Whispering Way and betrayed Tar-Baphon during the Shining Crusade because they realized that, if the whole world were undead, there would be no mortals left to feed on.

I actually already knew this! It's cropped up during my research when fleshing out Valerius' family and it pops up during the Lich path in Wrath of the Righteous if you speak with Elyanka in the Half-Measure; I'm pretty sure that you have to have crusade mode active for her to be there in the same way crusade mode has to be active to speak with council members like Lady Konomi and Dorgelinda.

I hope you don't mind that I'm going to turn this into a lore dump here.

Valerius' family is one of those families — the entire concept around House Dragavei is the classic Gothic archetype of the aristocratic family on the decline, like the Sharpes in Crimson Peak (sans incest) or the Willoughbys/Lloyds in the Haunting of Bly Manor to name a couple of more recent examples. In their case, they were already losing their ancestral seat by the time they turned on Tar-Baphon as I headcanon that they ruled part of what is now Virlych, specifically, the county of Virholt, and only retain their title of Count / Countess Dragavei as an honorific.

For the most part the Dragaveis, who had been mating with vampires for generations at this point, had got in favour with Tar-Baphon because of their ties to Virholt. They didn't want to give it up - the matriarch at the time was very "I was born in this hole, and I will die in this hole." It wasn't until 3866AR, when Luvick Siervage decided to break from Tar-Baphon and started moving vampires to Caliphas, that a young Valeria— Valerius' great-grandmother and, as you can probably guess, his namesake — killed her mother, who was fanatically loyal to Tar-Baphon. With Siervage's support, she relocated what was left of House Dragavei to Caliphas as well.

Valeria especially hated the Whispering Way because of that direct threat to her family's existence. And she knew back in the 3860s, as she reached her age of majority, that if her family didn't want to get wiped out, they had to break away from Tar-Baphon. After all, they need mortals to feed their full-blooded vampire relatives, to bring in fresh blood into the family when it comes to continuing their lineage, and to do their day to day operations, especially with their part of Virholt becoming inhospitable. She would not let her family decay entirely while she is the new head of the family.

Skip forward a good 800 years or so - Valeria never chose to become a vampire herself and her body instead lies in the Dragavei family crypt and her spirit bound to her granddaughter Rozalia - and that anti-Whispering Way sentiment still remains incredibly strong alongside their hatred for Pharasmites (for hopefully obvious reasons.) Valerius, her great-grandson; a devout antipaladin of Urgathoa and now the Knight-Commander of the Fifth Crusade, goes onto the path of the Lich because this is what his goddess approves of. He knows this is what he should do. It's his destiny.

But Valerius isn't exactly a devotee of Urgathoa beecause of her aspects of undeath or plague. He worships her because of her portfolio of gluttony, hunger, hedonism. After all, antipaladins tend to emulate her. Their tenet, "I have no duty but to my hunger and my goddess", is one of his core tenets. But this turns out to be a bit of a problem on the Lich path.

Vampires, as stated by Zacharius, are creatures of passion and not a perfect undead. They're too ruled by their hunger and desires - which in Valerius' and by extension, House Dragavei as a whole, is true. Aside from his major crisis of faith at the revelation that his powers aren't Urgathoa's blessing, but the result of an experiment, one of the core reasons he becomes a Legend is because he refuses to sacrifice that part of himself — and someone who stokes that fire in him even more. Hell, the only reason he's a Legend and not a Swarm is because he's simply not smart enough to decipher Xanthir's notes.

During act 3, he mostly ends up siding with Septimus, the Gebbite vampire representative and advisor. Was it intentional? No, not at first. In fact, when Elyanka Camilary, a future Daughter of Urgathoa and the Urgathoan and Whispering Way representative, arrives in Drezen with greetings from Ustalav, he welcomes her warmly. After all, it is nice to see a sister-in-faith, and a fellow Ustalavic one at that; someone he can speak his native tongue with. But it becomes clear to him quite quickly just how fanatical Elyanka is when it comes to the Whispering Way's ideology when he asks her what her problem with Septimus is:

Elyanka: Vampires like him are the most despicable creatures in the world. After receiving the blessing of undeath, he dishonours it, passing himself off as a mortal, mimicking their pathetic habits, pretending to be something he no longer has claim to. He and his like-minded associates are like people who sit before a table of delicacies and reject them all so they can eat swill with the pigs. Their pathetic habits discredit the gift they've been given. Don't expect anything good from friendship with this leech. Elyanka [dhampir Lich!PC only]: then you and your kin are like wild animals. You and your savage inhumane ideas will be hunted down and destroyed, and we will become victims of the fair but blind justice which will bury us in the same grave.

This pretty much seals Valerius' opinion of her as a very low one. Being told he is like a wild animal who should be hunted down, that his family are despicable, traitorous creatures is a severe blow to his honour. He merely tolerates her out of respect for their mutual faith in Urgathoa, and little else, while favouring Septimus' plans and ideals. He takes the effort to befriend the vampire - especially given they hold similar views regarding the Whispering Way and the damage they've done to necromancy and undeath as a whole, as well as being interested in how Geb works.

Both Elyanka and Septimus, as a result of Valerius not being on the Lich path in act 5, are still around post-game, and returned, following him taking over the city for good and becoming the Prince of Drezen and its surrounding environs. Both act as advisors on his council (Savour Its Sweet, Bloody Taste, ch. 3) in the same way they once did. But while Septimus is there to see an alliance fostered between Geb and Drezen again, and has cultivated a genuine friendship and mentorship with Valerius — Elyanka is there again out of mutual faith, and has an agenda to try push Valerius back onto the path of perfect undeath. But there's no trust there. There will never be trust there. He knows his family history and what his great-grandmother sacrificed for their survival, far too well for him to ever trust Elyanka or her followers who also worship Whispering Way.

She acts as his religious councillor because of her status as a future Daughter. He cannot ignore that part of his goddess' will, and sees it as a way for him to try control her and keep her in line. Better he gives her the position so she is indebted and seemingly loyal to him, rather than have her harbour resentment. This way, it's easy to keep track of her and her movements (even though again, given the catalyst for Savour Its Sweet, Bloody Taste is an assassination attempt that those in charge of espionage and diplomacy should've seen coming, I wouldn't hold your breath that it's getting done) and he can better have her investigated if need be. It's a classic case of "keep your friends close, but your enemies closer."

And that is the only way that he'll ever work with a member of the Whispering Way. At least if he keeps him close and they do decide to stab him in the back, it'll be easier to kill them.

#anonymous #answered #oc: valerius #sorry anon i didnt meant to be typing for an hour and a half straight

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leviackermanscleaningbuddy · 2 years

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Hello! Firstly, you will never know how much you and your posts never fail to brighten my day!

I have a question for the pack: based on the recent installment where the reader faced an early rut due to their separation from the pack - have you all spoken about what will happen once you all graduate university and your dream jobs may force you to live in different places? Just the thought causes me slight anxiety!

"Oh, that'll never happen." Chan immediately shakes his head, his eyes dark and serious, a flash of agitated gold ringing the edges of his irises. "Once a pack is formed, it's only broken up in cases of extreme dysfunction, extenuating circumstances, or mate death."

"Wolves are fickle creatures. They're particular on who they let into their lives and intimate social circles." Seungmin nods, looking thoughtful. "Once they pick a mate-or mates, in most cases-they stick with each other till the very end. They're extremely loyal once they pick their people."

"Add onto that the fact that we all chose to accept each other's mating marks-and most importantly the pack alpha's-" You add, reaching out to intertwine your fingers with Chan's as you give him a sidelong, comforting smile, stopping the obvious irritated bouncing of his knee with the pressure of your hand. "-and well, we're pretty much shit out of luck if we want out. We're stuck. And happy about it."

"Sucks if I wanted to change my mind, though." Jisung muses in a teasing voice, and Hyunjin elbows him in the side with an amused smirk.

"Sucks to be you."

"Only sometimes. Always sucks to be you though."

"Are you okay, hyung?" Changbin glances past the bickering duo and across the room to Chan, who has frozen up beside you, expression unreadable.

"Sorry." Chan takes in a deep breath through his teeth and glances up at the ceiling, as if to compose himself, before he physically forces his shoulders to relax.

The nervous tapping of his foot has resumed once more.

"My alpha just doesn't really like this topic of conversation. Even if it is all hypothetical."

"Mine doesn't either." You admit, shoving down the sudden whining of your wolf, your fingers curling a bit tighter around the head alpha's. "And I'm not even the head. So I can't imagine how you feel."

"Basically, we're like a giant ass married couple. But with nine people." Minho remarks, picking at his nails, though you can read in the subtle stiffness of his posture that he's aware of the agitated pheremones the head alpha is emitting from beside you. "When we move or make big life decisions, we do it all together. We don't leave people behind just because we graduate or get new jobs or switch houses."

"Besides-" Jeongin speaks up now, eyes bright, lips pulled up into a happy grin. "-we're all in such different fields, we're bound to find jobs all in the same city."

"That's right." Felix ruffles the youngest omega's hair affectionately. "We'll all be together. Forever."

"God, that's a long time." Jisung laments from beside Changbin, but he's biting back a smile.

"You're so goddamn lucky, Han Jisung. Don't act like you aren't."

"I didn't say I wasn't! When did I say that? Show me!"

"Baby." You lean over into Chan's space and plant a solid palm on his still jiggling knee. He offers you a tight lipped smile.

"No one is leaving. Everyone is here. Everyone will always be here. We're not going anywhere."

He sucks in another breath and squeezes your hand.

His posture relaxes a bit, the gold receding from his irises.

And when he smiles this time, it reaches his eyes.

"I know, baby. I've always known that. But thank you for reminding me."

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trannydean-moved · 11 months

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spn aus you say..... (please tell everything I am begging)

GIGGLING LIKE AN IDIOT!!!!! OKAY!!!!! warning this is a really long post kgjhjkgrjkd.

i've got 11 so far, but two of em (rvbnatural and spidernatural) barely have anything. rvbnatural is spn guys in the red vs. blue universe with dean, sam, and my oc jaime being a part of a special elite military project, similar to project freelancer in rvb. it's in the 2550s so it's set in same time frame as the halo games do. spidernatural is the spn guys in some sort of spiderverse, idk if it's like itsv/atsv or what, but it WAS inspired by atsv coming out. azazel is a spider demon guy wanting to take over the world with spider demon kids. he gives baby sam some spider demon blood and then little dean comes in and tries to protect him and he ends up bitten. both of them end up with spider powers and are spider-men.

but then i've got more in-depth aus! my most recent one is a modern au where jaime's family and dean's were next door neighbors for about their whole lives. jaime had to witness john abusing and neglecting his kids, and eventually he just decided he wasn't fucking having it anymore. he tricks john into coming into the woods and beats him to death with his baseball bat. garth is there and he helps bury the body.

john's sudden disappearance gets chalked up to be him going missing, sam and dean (and maybe adam, idk if he's gonna be here yet or not) go to live with bobby, and jaime thinks his problems are over. he and garth never speak of it again.

UNTIL several years later when some kids were digging around in the woods and they dug up john's body. it was obvious that john was murdered, his case is reopened. jaime becomes the main suspect. cas is going to be his defense lawyer.

there's my farmer au. sam and dean were born and raised on the winchester farm, being basically the only ones who worked there outside of their father. sam eventually goes to college, and john has to hire a farmhand. dunno who it is yet, but a few years later, that farmhand quit right before harvest time, so now it's just him and dean. he orders dean to make ads and put them up so that they can get a new farmhand.

enter jaime, who has just moved to their area of texas. he's never been living out of his guardians' house and though he thought moving across the state to be on his own was a good idea, he's sort of scrambling because he didn't have a real plan. he sees the ad and though he's never done farm work before, he has done manual labor and he figures he can pick up on this stuff fairly well.

plus, in exchange for working, he also gets to live in the farmhouse on the property, and he doesn't have to pay for food or rent (though he DOES get less pay due to this). he figures this is a pretty good deal, and ends up going to apply for the job. he gets it, despite the fact john doesn't like that he's kind of scrawny. (he reflects that dean's always been on the leaner side and he gets the job done "okay", and this is also the best he's got, so he has to go with it).

jaime and dean quickly become best friends--they're working together side-by-side almost all day, almost every day. come harvest time, dean and jaime are tasked with selling their crop at the farmer's market.

enter cas, the youngest of a wealthy family who has always been big buyers in the winchester crop. cas and dean have had fleeting encounters and both have a crush on each other tbh. jaime sees cas for the first time when cas comes to their stall on his first day at the farmer's market and definitely understands where dean was coming from.

next i've got my modern au that's got dean as a famous music artist. tbh i don't have so much for this one, but basically, dean is a music artist and he's been hitting a writer's block (or whatever you call it for songwriting) but something makes him remember his high school best friends/crushes (jaime and cas) and he ends up writing a song about them. and he doesn't use any pronouns in the song referring to them, and TECHNICALLY both "jaime" and "cas" can be considered gender neutral, so while the song is a huge hit once he releases it, there's also lots of discussion/controversy about it because "okay so are these two people girls or guys??? or one's a girl and one's a guy???" but it's funny because it's none of the above, jaime and cas are both non-binary. but anyways both jaime and cas end up hearing it on the radio and they're both like "oh my fuck he remembers me…"

and they've been living their separate lives far away from each other for many years but now they all begin reminiscing their high school "friendship" (they were all extremely gay for each other) and debate whether to try contacting each other again. i mean, dean wrote a song about them and it became a big hit and is currently being played all across the country right now. it would kinda make sense to do so. and they're all kinda missing each other, which they dismiss as nostalgia but it's really a lot more than that.

so jaime and cas find each other and then decide to attend to dean's next concert, bc he's on tour rn. they somehow get dean to notice them in the crowd (jaime's gonna do smth stupid prolly) and dean sees them and is SO HAPPY and he puts his whole pussy into that concert. and then they reunite and are all super happy to see each other again. and they can't just ignore dean's confession in the song.... they all end up getting together again, it's good.

next my merfolk au!!! MY FAVORITE HEHEHE!!! jaime and cas are two merpeople who live on the coast, next to an older fisherman's cabin owned by bobby. i'm not sure if in this au, merpeople are social beings in the way they live in pods or not, but either way, cas and jaime are rejected by basically anyone (cas is too weird, jaime is too aggressive (protective of cas!!!)) other than gabriel, who is cas' guardian, and then jaime's once he comes around (jaime's parents died, jaime ran (swam) away from the rest of his family and got lost, then found by cas).

dean has been visiting bobby's place since he was a little kid, and the first time jaime and cas saw him, they were instantly fascinated. they'd never seen a human their age before. jaime wanted to introduce themselves to dean but cas was shy and not ready so jaime was cool with that. they stuck to hanging out with bobby when sam and dean weren't there.

fast forward 15-20 some years. jaime gets captured by fishermen and sold to a freak show. cas comes up on land disguised as a human and begs dean for help (bobby's in town rn). it takes a while but with sam's help they're able to locate and rescue jaime. by this time, dean knows about cas and jaime being merpeople, and he's definitely awestruck by them when he sees them both in trueform. and they're both fascinated by him, which he finds embarrassing, because he doesn't believe beings so magnificent should find him, a measly human, fascinating.

then there's my dystopian/post-apocalypse au!!! cas lives in a glass-encased bunker that's been the "one safe place" since earth's nuclear fallout nearly 100 years before. dean and jaime are two people living outside the bunker, otherwise known as purgatory. jaime and dean have been best friends their whole lives and have gone through literally everything together--losing their parents, raising their little siblings (in jaime's case, cousin, but jackie has always been more like a sister to jaime rather than a cousin).

jaime, dean, sam, and jackie all go out searching for the bunker, wanting to see the real thing. they've heard stories about it, and the oldest people they've met remember being rejected from entering the bunker during the fallout due to the bunker being "too full". it takes years, but they do find it. cas sees them, and cas, who has been obsessed with learning all he can about purgatory for basically his whole life, is bursting with excitement about finding people on the outside.

chuck, cas' dad and the president of all the people in the bunker, is just SO MAD that his son found the outsiders before his people did. because see, ever since the higher-ups of the bunker realized there was still people surviving outside, they began to capture them, bring them secretly to secret labs, and basically experiment on them to find out how they can survive outside the bunker until they die. chuck did not stop this tradition when he became president and found out about all this.

so basically, chuck tries to find an excuse to get these four outsiders to "disappear" so that he can get them to his private labs to experiment on. there's a problem, because cas is attached to them, to two in particular really. and cas doesn't know about what chuck's doing--if he did, he wouldn't stand for it. so chuck has to try to do all he wants while keeping it hidden from cas. it doesn't end up working btw.

i've got my hunter!jaime au, which is basically what jaime's life would've been like if he'd grown up knowing about the supernatural. there is SO MUCH i have for it, i cannot put it all here, but i CAN make separate posts about it if you want me to!!!

i've got two soulmate aus--a soulmate tattoo au and a soulmate journal au. in the soulmate tat one, it's a lot like your usual au with this trope--you've got your soulmate's name tattooed to you somewhere. but sometimes, people are born with more than one name on them, or none at all, and those with more than one are mostly shunned by society, while those with none are pitied. jaime, cas, and dean all have two, ofc, and grow up with different reactions to it--jaime gets it an accepting family, though they're a little misguided in their support ("he's confused, but he's got the spirit" sort of deal). cas' is an outcast at school for it, and half his brothers despise him for it while the other half do their best to make sure he knows he's not alone. then dean gets the shittiest bit, with his godawful father hating him and definitely mistreating him for this. i'm using this au to be a thing in support of polyamorous and ace individuals, and i just hope i can do good with my representation.

then with the soulmate journal au, every baby has a journal pop up when they're born that they can use to communicate with their soulmate/s. jaime and cas talk with each other for several years and think only they are each other's soulmates, but dean is also their soulmate--john just confiscated his journal after mary died and never let him get a hold of it. however, jaime and cas fill up their initial journal and another one appears for each of them, and that ALSO makes another one appear to dean. he gets to write to his soulmates for the first time and it's a big whirlwind for him bc woah, finally, he gets to talk to them!!! but then again, the only examples of soulmates he's seen is his dad and the awful way he handled mary's death, so dean's not the fondest of the idea. he has to keep his journal hidden so no one ever finds it and takes away what becomes one of the only highlights in his life.

finally, my last one!!! this is just a regular modern au. jaime moves into a new town and tries to fit in. he gets a job at cas' bakery, and he meets dean at the mechanics shop, and they all fall in love :] it's very nice and sweet.

I'M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG!!! this was a lot to type out 😭😭😭

#answering machine #my aus #omg i gotta tag all these...#au: jestiel merfolk #au: jaime kills john #au: hunter!jaime #au: modern jestiel #au: jestiel post-apoc/dystop #au: jestiel soulmate journals #au: jestiel soulmate tattoos #au: jestiel farmer #au: music artist dean #au: spidernatural #au: rvbnatural #PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE IF YOU HAVE ANY QUESTIONS OR COMMENTS #PLS ASK/TELL ME #I'D LOVE TO HEAR WHAT EVERYONE'S GOT TO SAY ABT THESE

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yjwhatif · 1 year

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Okay, so this is probably gonna be 💩 and definitely out of character but it’s an idea that popped into my head that I wanted to try write… I have no idea how it reads - I’ve never tried doing a fic before - so this may well be my first and the last attempt 🤷‍♀️ but, I thought it’s New Year’s Eve and it’s something to add to the list of things I never expected to do this year…

Also, I’m gonna try to get another post out before, but I know what I’m like and if I don’t, I just wanna wish everyone a happy new year and thank anyone who’s spared any time/energy into supporting this blog - whether that’s reading, liking, sending comments, anything - I love and appreciate it all so much! So thank you and here’s the fic (which is yet to be named, it’s set post Phantoms and I don’t know what you’d class it as… angst? Let’s just say it’s not fluff - in case you wanted a heads up…) LB

Here goes…

Star city. 11:23 pm. It had been raining for hours. That loud heavy kind of rain that could be heard over even the highest of volumes. Literally the only thing hearable was the rain and it showed no sign of stopping soon. There was no ignoring it. No avoiding it. Even for the most focused of minds. Rain one. Grading nill. She may have been formidable in a fight but Artemis knew when she’d been bested in battle…

“Fine, fine - you win - I will go to bed.”

She said to the air.

“Come on Brucley, let’s… go?”

Brucley had gone to bed hours ago. All who lived there were long since asleep there and it was nature's desire for the final resident to seek her slumber too…

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Though it seemed someone else had a differing desire…

“Bart?”

There at the door, the boy stood soaking. Drips dropping and hair sopping. Drenched all the way through to his skin. Had he walked there? It was hardly the appropriate time or setting for a leisurely stroll across the country. Though it was a trip he had been making more and more within the recent weeks. But never as late as this…

“Can I stay on your couch for a bit?”

And never overnight. The answer she had was obvious. But his need for such an arrangement was a cause for concern…

“…Come on, I'll get you a towel.”

And coffee… this was definitely going to require coffee.

11:45pm. The scene was set… It was silent… for what must have been the first time that night in fact. Or that was how it seemed at least. In reality, it wasn't truly silent of course. The rain still drowned the streets outside. But even that had hushed its hammering as if waiting to hear how the play would proceed. It wasn’t the only one. At the table sat the pair. One drinking coffee. The other cocoa. One sat watching. The other avoiding. Both waiting for the other to make the first move. Instead, there was silence. Solid and sharp. The only thing to cut through it was the click of Artemis’s fingernails tapping rhythmically upon the tabletop. It was something to listen to but it was hardly a melodic beat. It was the ticking of a clock. The falling of the sands. It was a waiting beat which promised it would not wait forever. And forever it did not.

“So… what happened?”

”Same thing that keeps happening…”

His mood was grim. Grumbling the words instead of speaking them. The tides within him swelled at their topmost heights. The dam was full. The floodgates had remained holding (for now) but the trickles were seeping through. It wouldn’t take much for the seal to crack and release the spill.

“He won’t let me do anything anymore… It’s so moded!”

“I bet…”

She played along…

“And now I’m grounded - again - for nothing!”

”Nothing, huh? Wow, I don't even think my parents were that cruel.”

It was a statement filled with implications that weren’t supposed to be liked… and liked, Bart did not. He may have been frustrated with his elder but never enough to endorse such a comparison… even if he was totally aware of the game she was playing with him…

“Okay, soo it might not have totally been nothing exactly…”

All she did was strike him a look. The look. Piercing and inescapable… even for one as fast as him…

“There's a slight chance I may have missed curfew…”

And just like that, the cascades came surging through.

“But it wasn’t my fault!”

“Of course not.”

It never was…

“It wasn't! I went to the movies with Ed and the others over in Hollywood and... you know what it's like with timezones - who has time to keep track of those?!”

“Someone with a central time curfew Bart, that's who.”

“Ugh, but it’s 9 o’clock! 9 o’clock! Who has a 9 o’clock curfew - other than like, 5-year-olds… seriously, Lian has a 9 o’clock curfew!”

“No, she doesn't.”

“Whatever... the point is, it's stupid and it totally ruined everything!”

”Oh come on Bart, I'm sure it wasn't that good a movie. You can always go see it again later.”

“What? No - I'm not talking about the movie - I don't even care about the movie! I'm talking about Ed!”

“Ed?”

“Yea, and the fact that he was there, actually sat next to me and not avoiding me like he has been for weeks…

There was more hidden beneath the depths than she’d initially realised…

“I swear, he was this close to holding my hand in there… just like before…”

“…I didn't realise you two were having problems—?”

“We're not!”

He spat back. She’d clearly hit a nerve.

“Everything's fine! There's nothing to worry about - I've got it all under control… or at least I did, until I look over and see Jay standing there in the actual theatre, staring right at me with that look that he always seems to wear these days... next thing I know, he’s practically dragging me out of there in front of everyone… have you any idea how embarrassing that was… and it was totally uncalled for!”

“I’m sure he wasn’t trying to embarrass you.”

“Sure he was - he hates me!”

“He doesn't hate you Bart.”

“No… but he certainly won't trust me anymore…”

From under his breath, those words had come. Artemis had heard every one and with them, the silence returned to the scene. This time abrupt and without warning. She knew what she wanted to say to him. It was what she’d wanted to say for a while now. But she also knew it wasn't the best time for it to be said. The boy who sat ahead of her could seem such a source of light in even the darkest of moments. Always a clever comment to contribute. A smile to give. He really did remind her of his cousin sometimes… just a bit… in his own kind of way. And like his cousin, she also knew just how stubborn he was capable of being… when he wanted to be.

“What?“

“Well… can you really blame him for that?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?!”

“Bart, you snuck off into space without telling anyone and then went missing for over two weeks.”

“I came back!”

He threw the words at her like they should be sufficient in settling the matter… his first mistake.

“Yeah, wrapped in bandages.”

“… I was—“

“Fine? Sure.”

“Well, I was! So there was no need to worry—”

“That's not for you to decide Bart…”

At the point of no return, there was no more holding back. She had things to say to him and it was about time he heard them said.

“You can’t just disappear and expect no one to notice… not anymore.”

He didn’t want to hear this. That she also knew.

“Because they did, Bart, they noticed, and they weren’t fine about it… Jay wasn’t fine, Ed wasn’t fine, Jaime, your friends, your team, your family… None of us were fine.”

Everything about him screamed silently for swift release. His eyes away watching anything that wasn't her. But his ears stayed stuck. Sealed to the sounds she spouted. They refused to move. To disconnect. To let him escape… his second mistake.

“You have a lot of people here who care about you, kid… People who worry when they don’t know where you are.”

“I can take care of myself!”

It was unclear who he was trying to convince more… Artemis or himself.

“That doesn’t matter… You know the life we live in, just like the rest of us, and like the rest of us, you know the evil that exists within it, you know the sacrifices that have been made, the tragedies we’ll never be able to forget… and for all we knew, you were about to become another one of those tragedies, another hologram…”

In a haze of forgotten memory, those words repeated. They cast him back and in front of his elder, he was returned. Head to head and heart to heart. It was only them. Them and those words. Those words and his. A promise… a lie.

“…I don’t want any more holograms…”

“…Jay… I’m not going anywhere…”

He lied. The man had trusted him and he lied… that was his biggest mistake.

“Take it from a girl who got her very own hologram once upon a time… there's a cost to deceit - no matter how major the lie or vital the cause… for those left out of the loop, loss isn’t easily forgotten and trust isn’t easily fixed…”

At that, his eye returned to hers. For the first time that night, they converged completely. They were pools filling. Glazing. But hadn’t yet fallen. Never before had she seen the rain drop upon his cheeks. Even after all the storms he'd weathered. Now was no different. He was stubborn that way.

“Then what am I supposed to do?”

“You do the work - for as long as it takes until that trust is regained… and then, you don’t screw up by doing it again!”

It was almost laughable how fast his face dropped at that. The softness in his eye solidified into a scowl of sheer sulkishness.

“Don’t give me that look! I said you could have my couch, not my sympathy…”

But the mood didn't lift. All in his face only dropped further. He was somewhere else. Stuck on something else. Something he couldn't see.

“He’ll come around, you’ve just gotta meet him halfway.”

“I hope so…”

“He loves you Bart… and luckily, love isn't something that's easily lost… no matter how parted you feel.”

With that, her own mind wandered slightly. It was her sign to get moving. So she allowed the words to sink in as she cleared the scene of their long dried-out mugs. Leaving him to ponder whatever thoughts he had brewing within.

“…I should probably call him, tell him where I am…”

“I already did…”

Her hand planted a reassuring grip on his tensed shoulder before she continued.

“He knows you’re here…”

With that Bart was jolted back into the present. Such a reveal was unexpected. Jay had known and never forced him back home. He never called or kicked up a fuss. He was actually allowing Bart the space he wanted… Or was the man just so tired of the trouble that he was glad for the space he was getting… The quiet returned as the boy's mind flooded once again. Drowning him deep below his doubts. Beneath the regrets. The questions. The what ifs. The possibilities and probabilities. Everything except the solid solution to get him back in control again. The something which would keep him afloat before the rising tides finally pull him under.

“I’m gonna head up…”

Artemis‘s words cut their way through the fog of his contemplation.

“You know where everything is, right?”

His head nodded but his mind remained elsewhere. It was there in his eyes. They were distant. Drained. He was trying to fight something. Something he wouldn’t let her see. Something he couldn't escape. And it was pulling him under. Below the depths and into the darkness no one was allowed to witness.

“Bart… do try and get some sleep, okay? Things will still be there for you to work out tomorrow.”

There was acknowledgement in his eyes but still, no words accompanied them. It was late. Very late. It was so late even the rain had gotten tired as there remained but a drizzle upon the window panes. There was little more Artemis could do for the night. It was up to Bart to find his next step forward. Though for now, the only thing they both truly needed was sleep. Time to rest their heads and escape the thinking for a bit. But whether sleep would come was another matter entirely. With a little luck, nature would take its charge and finally pull them both into the desired solace of slumber. But for that quits must be called. She must finally make her retreat to the sheets which have long awaited her settle. And with a little hope, the lad lost in his thoughts might follow suit. Finding his relief in the couch cushions instead of a fix-all solution he yet couldn't see… but for her, that remained to be seen…

Despite the end's arrival the scene still felt unfinished. Something was missing. Yet there was nothing more to be said. Nothing more from her lips at least…

“…Hey Artemis?”

The words halted her departure.

“Thanks… y’know… for letting me use your couch.”

With that, his face cracked its first smile of the night. It wasn't one of real brightness or longevity. It was shallow and slight. But it gleamed a hint of the him she's gotten so used to seeing. Something of noticeable absence throughout the night. It was a smile which suggested she hadn't totally lost him to those dark depths of his mind. And it was a welcomed sight to end their night.

“Don’t mention it, kid.”

With her own smile, her goodnights were said. And away she went. Finally making good on the word she’d made a whirlwind ago.

“Night Brucley.”

…

#happy new year #young justice #yj #young justice phantoms #bart allen #artemis crock #jay garrick #eduardo dorado jr #my fic #yj fanfic #long post

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stereax · 1 year

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I think MM is cooked, he’s 1 of 2 players to not outright deny his involvement and there’s also the damning picture of him in the hotel room

I'm rolling with the idea of innocent until proven guilty (the report comes out). There's a LOT of moving pieces and we won't know for sure what happened until we get the report - and even then, we don't know how accurate the report will be to what really happened.

Under the cut, I'll explain more. TW we're going to be talking about the 2018 WJC scandal in-depth, so if you're sensitive to sexual assault themes, please don't read forward.

I'm scheduling this post because I'm honestly a little terrified about this one, for (hopefully) obvious reasons. Sorry for the delay on this, in advance. God, fuck, shit, I know this is a bad idea, and I'm reasonably sure this is gonna get me cancelled (as much as a Tumblr account can be cancelled) lol... please be nice?

Before I get into the discussion, a disclaimer: I am not denying the 2018 WJC rape case. I fully believe that it happened. What happened is terrible and disgusting and should never be allowed to exist in professional hockey. I am analyzing one player (Michael/Mikey McLeod) and his possible involvement in said scandal.

Innocent Until Proven Guilty: A Stereanalysis.

Everyone charged with a penal offence has the right to be presumed innocent until proved guilty according to law in a public trial at which he has had all the guarantees necessary for his defence. - United Nations Universal Declaration of Human Rights (UN UDHR) Article 11 (look, international relations IS a useful major!)

Let's start off with the (very limited) facts of the case, from the lawsuit: At a gala in London, Ontario, celebrating the 2018 gold medal of the Canada World Junior's team, a woman (EM) meets a hockey player (Player 1). She becomes increasingly drunk and ends up going to Player 1's hotel room. They engage in sex (seemingly, at this point, consensual, though EM is intoxicated and possibly Player 1 is as well - the ethics of drunk sex are not my realm to parse out, and I will not be analyzing whether this specific instance is rape or not, as it is ultimately moot). Player 1 then invites his friends into the hotel room without EM's knowledge or consent. The number varies; in the lawsuit there are eight total players, but police say there are "reasonable grounds" for only five players. Important to note here is that most media says the lawsuit is against eight CHL players, among which 2018 WJC players are included. These five-to-eight players then proceed to sexually assault EM, intimidating her and blocking off exits. EM and her mother soon open a case with the local police on this issue. Player 1, upon being informed of this investigation by Hockey Canada, goes so far as to contact EM through Instagram and beseech her to "put an end to" the investigation.

Yikes.

We've got up to eight players (five that are going to be named in the report, it seems) that have raped EM. At least one of these, and likely several, but presumably not all, are members of the 2018 WJC roster. We will assume that all these facts are accurate.

On the picture: I can't find it anywhere. I'm looking. It doesn't help that seemingly ALL of Reddit is shut off with the API protests. Fire it my way, if you can. I've seen mentions of it in other places, so I will believe it exists, but I'd like to see it.

Mikey not saying anything doesn't mean he was or was not involved, in my opinion. It would be, frankly, stupid, to make comments on the investigation while it's pending. Remember how anything you say can and will be used against you? Exactly. Any legal advisor worth their salt would tell you to say as little as possible in front of the media.

Every other player on that team, barring (I think) Formenton and Batherson (both on the Sens), have denied they did anything. Formenton's contract wasn't re-inked and he's playing in Switzerland. Batherson was wearing an A when there was a recent injury on the Senators' roster. If we go Court of Public Opinion and claim Formenton is guilty and Batherson is innocent, we still have four-to-seven players' names to fill in. And it's entirely possible that none of those players were on the WJC roster.

Now, consider the NHL's position on this. They're just emerging from the wakes of the Kyle Beach scandal. Do they really need a second major sex scandal on their hands? Especially one at the hands of players and not staff? Would it not be easier to simply round up the players reasonably suspected to be part of the sexual assault and explain to them that yeah, you'll be taking a "personal" leave of absence or playing in Europe until this is resolved?

"But Stereax!" you say. "Cale Makar! Carter Hart! Those guys might be involved and they would be protected by the league because they're stars!" To this, I simply say: Mikey is not a star. As much as he plays a vital role on the Devils, he is far from a Jack Hughes-esque kind of player. I'm fairly certain they could Europe him with little or no real issues.

"But Stereax!" you say. "They did so little about Kyle Beach, even though Kane and Toews were publicly implicated! Nothing happened to them, and they're all but proven to have known and done nothing about it!" To this, I once again say: Mikey is not the face of a franchise. He is not a star. In the eyes of hockey, he is a replaceable 4C. You remove him from the team, you can put Shango or Boqvist in as the 4C and shuffle the third line accordingly.

Another thing to note is how, from the very limited information Mikey did give us, he stated that he was working with the authorities. If a person sexually assaulted someone else, and then ended up under an investigation, would that person willingly work with the authorities? Would they go so far as to say that on record? I'm doubtful.

Even if the NHL was to take no action, I sincerely believe that the Devils' organization would have done something if they were aware that Mikey was involved in the scandal. Unlike some organizations in the league (coughcoughRangerswhocough), the Devils tend to do things with general respect for humans. Like Fitz, who took the time to sit down with Severson and basically tell him that we'd love to keep him but he's too expensive, then help engineer the sign-and-trade to Columbus, getting Sevo the extra contract year. From a team that outwardly had a gender equality night, it would seem antithetical to the organization's roots to knowingly shelter a rapist. Hell, why would they write a FEATURE PIECE on McLeod in the playoffs? That's just asking for trouble.

Speaking of the playoffs - the report is dragging on. It's been months since we were promised it. Devils fans had worried that the report, if it would be indicting Mikey, was being postponed until the Devils were out of the playoffs so as not to mess the team up in the middle of their run. The run's been over for a month now. The report still isn't out. That's perhaps a good sign, that the report wasn't being held just so Mikey could have his "last hurrah", so to speak.

Think now about Ben Johnson. When he was found guilty of rape, the Devils terminated his contract basically immediately. Johnson never played for the Devils, splitting time between the AHL and ECHL affiliates (Albany Devils & Adirondack Thunder). Even so, it was a hard-line and immediate stance from the organization in a league that keeps trying to get Mitchell Miller ice time.

Or Jake Virtanen - though he was found not guilty of sexual assault by court, his contract was bought out and then he hauled ass to EHC Visp in the Swiss NL, where he got in enough fights with his teammates that the team basically told their manager they'd walk if he stayed. Recall Virtanen was a 6th overall pick in the NHL, probably the best non-lockout-era player the NL had ever seen, and he was that unpopular and much of a jackass.

Contrast this with Mikey, who the entire team seems to love. Take the Desert Island interviews, where every player asked says they'd take Mikey or Nate (the Superbuddies) or both onto a desert island for entertainment. Or how Luke's first dinner with the Devils was with the Superbuddies, Jack, and Dawson. Or generally how Mikey (and Nate) seem to parent half the young'uns on the team. Is Jack "our parents raised us to believe in gay rights and support the queer community" Hughes going to knowingly associate with a rapist? Is the team, which Jack has outright said was excited and had no issues with pride night and were looking forward to supporting that - is this a team that would all stick by someone who's committed sexual assault? Hockey culture and all, but I'd hope the Devils would be better than that.

And here we get to the most intriguing part of Clouder's Defense, what I call the 7+1 Theory. There have been whispers of this in the media and among circles of those in the know. The 7+1 Theory, most simply, is: Eight players were in the room where it happened. Seven sexually assaulted EM. One walked in and out, "unaware" of what was going on. (How "unaware" is up for debate. Some sources say that Player 8 was unsure whether whatever was happening was consensual and just resolved to stay out of it.) If this is the case, was Player 8 Mikey? We have no way of knowing.

And that's the long and short of it - we don't know. And we won't know until the report is released. And even when the report is released, how much will it say? How accurate will it be?

Now, if Mikey IS indicted in the report, all of this speculation is moot. However, I wouldn't go so far as to assume he is involved until we get the report - there are significant factors playing in his favor, which I've outlined above. I'm sure there are more that I'm forgetting, but I've spent way too long on this post already...

When the names are named and the information is released, only then will I pass judgment. Until then, I'm going to stick with the UDHR and presume innocence, both for the sake of legal thought and for the sake of my own sanity.

Once again, please do not take ANY of this as me dismissing or belittling sexual assault in any way. What happened in that hotel room in Canada was horrific and should never be even implicitly approved of by the NHL. I hope this report comes out sooner rather than later and justice can finally be served.

#stereanswers #tw sa mention #faceoff king #mikey mcleod #(tagging him for blacklist purposes)#2018 WJC

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uefb · 1 year

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Chapter Two of The Riot Act link

In which eleven-year-old Newt has had a rather horrific day and—-after sneaking out of his father’s flat—-shows up at Theseus’ auror training completely unannounced. Theseus thereafter patches him up while managing to finagle approximately 80% of the truth out of him. It’s not particularly pretty, and Theseus is—-admittedly—-a little out of his depth… (Though, regardless, he also doesn’t plan to leave well enough alone.)

Excerpt

“Why did you come find me, though? Honestly, Newt,” he murmured imploringly as he searched the book, glancing up when he heard him shift uncomfortably on the raised medical table in front of him. He was picking at a fold in his trousers. “You don’t actually seem that upset by what Hesiod did. You didn’t even really want to talk and you’re—technically—hardly hurt... I’ve seen you treat less on your own, just by foraging about the garden like an overenthusiastic gnome.”

Newt was quiet for so exceedingly long that time that Theseus gave up and went back to the book, scribbling down a spell to try while rather hopelessly waiting for his brother to collect his thoughts.

“It was what he said,” Newt offered when the silence had stretched on too long for even him. “Mum and Dad have been really pleased with me recently so I couldn’t…” He trailed off and heaved a frustrated sigh. “You don’t generally make me feel stupid, you see, even when I’ve quite misbehaved, so.”

“But why did you come here if you didn't actually need help? If you didn't actually want to talk? I mean, it wasn't exactly safe, Newt.”

“Well - because I like you?" He said it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, frowning hard at the murtlap essence on the table. "Because you’re my brother. I don't have to want to - to talk to want to see you.”

Theseus offered him a small smile, hoping he’d feel it even though it was obvious his thoughts had already moved on to something else—

“So do you think it was ethically captured, Theseus? The murtlap?”

(And there it was.)

He'd begun picking at a thread on his sweater, so Theseus admonished him by guiding his attention back to the pleat in his trousers. (After which he baldfacedly lied, assuring him that— Yes, he was quite certain the murtlap had been kindly treated...)

He cast a spell over the marks on Newt’s palm before he could ask any damning follow-up questions, and heaved a grateful sigh when they immediately shrank, fading to palest pink. He next worked a glamour over them until it was like they’d never happened at all.

“Now, you said you came here because—" Theseus redirected, turning Newt's hand to check the back of it before continuing. "Well, you said, ‘It was what he said’?”

Newt ignored the obvious prompt, so Theseus uncapped a jar of salve and massaged a bruise-removing paste about his thin wrist instead, wrapping it all up in bandages, just in case.

"What did he say, then, hm?” he inquired more directly.

Newt still didn’t answer.

"What did he say to you, Mud, that was worse than this?"

Theseus hovered a hand over the bandages to indicate the physical reprimand, but Newt only sat staring fixedly at his lap.

“Oi!" He leaned forward slightly in an attempt to interrupt his brother’s downturned gaze, all the while lecturing himself internally on keeping his patience, because even if they'd already done this excruciating exercise once tonight, he knew Newt didn't usually mean to be like this... “Newt, I said: What did Uncle Hes say to you?”

#fic: the riot act #mind the content warnings please #oh also #this is now 4 chapters because I have to split this chapter into 2 for length & theme - fyi #Scamander brothers #newt Scamander #Theseus Scamander #young newt scamander #young theseus Scamander #autistic newt scamander #fantastic beasts fanfic #my stuff

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frisiunia · 7 months

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Humans' situation

So there are few things I need to explain in Undermourning. So here we go (it's gonna be very, very long ;)):

How does twins (and other humans) move between the Ruins and the rest of the Underground?

That's the first thing. So twins' tactic isn't anything complicated actually.

At first they did it when Toriel wasn't in the house. They would only leave a note for Toriel with some excuse about their absence. They also had Flowey by their side and he could easily check if it's safe for them to come back without Toriel noticing where are they coming back from.

However they couldn't always wait for Toriel to leave. So tactic they're using most often is: Natalie, who is more likely to leave the Ruins quickly and quietly talks with Toriel (somewhere where stairs aren't in sight) about her and Sofia going somewhere. In the meantime, Sofia is leaving first. Then, after Natalie explained everything to Toriel, she leaves herself. Quickly and quietly. Just in case, Sofia has came up with a few excuses they can use, when they get caught.

After Frisk has fallen into the Underground, twins were thinking for a little while if they can trust eighteen year old with their little secret and show him the rest of the Underground. However, they eventually decided to do it and they didn't regret it. However, they weren't as trusty with next humans who fall in future years. Especially Sunday and Cameron, who aren't the best persons to trust... and live with. However, twins trusted Jayden quite quickly. About Cora, they never showed her the rest of the Underground before the fight, cause they knew that as soon as queen finds out that there's seven humans in the Underground, they're doomed. So twins only explained to her the whole thing.

And how did anyone from the rest of the Underground never find out about them living in the Ruins? ...Who has said nobody knows? Okay, first things first. It's usual thing that a lot of monsters would ask twins about where are they living. However, they would often dismiss those who would ask. Sometimes, when they would know that someone will respect their secrets, like Papyrus, they would say right away to do not ask them about it. They don't like to hide things from their friends, but they also didn't want Toriel to find out and others to find out about Toriel's place.

Did someone try to follow them to find out where they live? There are always some people that would try to solve a mystery, so that's obvious. However, twins, and later other humans who would go by their tips, has their ways to avoid them knowing. Before coming back, they would leave themselves enough time to wander sometime and try to lose themselves from potiential followers' eyes. They would also sometimes come into some places where night could be spend. Usually before coming back to the Ruins, they come into Inn in Snowdin and spends there a while, talking to innkeeper. Then, they usually goes where the trees are densely spaced. What is worth mentioning, when Sofia was trying to help Papyrus get into the Royal Guard, actual bars were set before the Ruins exit. You can say that twins have borrowed one of spare keys to them.

Later thanks to Frisk, twins found out that Undyne and probably people close to the ruler, like the Royal Guard knows where they live and where Toriel lives. So they didn't really care that some of guards would find out, since they've already known. If we're talking about guards, humans rather pretend that they hide it from them. However, they are still careful with other monsters.

War Plans

A good plan is very important part of a war. You can clearly see that studying history. Sofia and Natalie also know that, especially Sofia. When they finally decided that fight is a necessity, they had a problem in establishing their tactic. They both wanted to wait for seven humans to come. However, despite Frisk falling recently, Sofia thought it might take too long. Natalie also become more doubtful about it. So they started thinking about three-persons plans. They and Frisk also have begun training more often.

No human has fallen down for nearly two years. But finally in 2020 Sunday fell into the Underground. That gave twins more hope. But then, another problem had appeared. Other humans' attitude. You see, they noticed that Sunday is not the best person to work with. Even if other humans will fall in the future, what if they'll have same attitude as Sunday? Twins understood they can't just make soldiers that would just listen to them without questioning their orders. So they created general plan, and as another humans were falling, they were updating and adapting it to fit said humans. They also tried to slowly guide these humans into this situation, knowing they may feel uneasy getting thrown into it like that. Twins tried not to let them get to attached to monsters they meant to fight with. Excluding Papyrus to some extent. After all, it's difficult to even imagine Papyrus actually wanting Undyne's plan to happen.

But what plan actually was? Let me show you: In general, taking down Royal Guards and other, loyal to gueen people. Removing queen herself. If someone gives up, they're getting spared. Including queen, though obviously she's probably not going to do that. No civilians are getting hurt, unless they're joining to the battle on queen's side. Toriel's going to become a new queen. But if she refuse or monster don't want her as a queen, they can just choose their ruler.

About roles that were given to humans as plan developed: Frisk is the one that meant to kill Undyne. Natalie mostly takes care of guards in Hotland and then supports Frisk if it's needed. Sofia is the one to take care of guards in Snowdin. Since Cora had no fighting skills or time to train, she supports Sofia, mostly holding food and arrows for her. Cameron and Sunday mostly takes care of Waterfall, while Jayden makes sure they won't hurt anyone else than guards. If someone's work is finished, they can support others. + Flowey makes sure no one tries to enter the Ruins. Ya know, just in case.

Execution

What about execution of this plan?... Well, did you read "Chara" story? In "War Route" part, Chara is talking about how bad others are feeling with it. He mentions that Monster Kid Teen's family is gone, and that Lamef is traumatized. Well, now I think I want to change this dialogue a little, but you get the point, right? Especially with death of MK's family. Civilians also got hurt or even died. Though Jaydan was doing his best, it is mostly Sunday and Cameron's fault. Chara made these two hateful and cruel. He even scripted some events, so even though these two may have some good qualities, they're just forced to act in certain way. Like killing MK's family is scripted. It happens always in this route. However, he doesn't have to script so many things so this route would be unhappy enough for Frisk to reset.

That's all for today. It was long, I know. And yet, I think I could tell ya about few more things. Welp. Maybe some other time. For now, bye!

#undertale #undertaleau #undertale au #undermourning #chara #frisk #undyne #flowey #toriel #papyrus

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