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animefreak1145 · 3 years

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For Whom the Bell Tolls(Adler x Bell!Reader)

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Chapter 4| I Am Thee and Thou Art Me

Chapter Summary:

The action's you do is for survival and no other reason.

You don't understand other's actions though.

Cold War Reset AU| Undertale Reset AU

Warnings: Torture, Brainwashing, Manipulation, Possible Non-Con/Dub-Con, Trauma

Chapter Warnings: Mental/Emotional Anguish, Toxicity, Self-Loathing

A/N: Bottled beer is liquid hope and you love pictures.

Footnote: Translations at the bottom.

“Bell” Second Life 08:16 | February 26, 1981 West Berlin, Anita Wronski Cafe

“Looks like you’ve met death in the face, Bell. Rough night?” Lazar questioned, poking fun as they grabbed breakfast for everyone in line.

You rubbed your eye before pinching between your brows.

“Something like that,” you said tiredly as you looked around the small cafe. Distantly taking note of Lazar’s statement with a dry smirk. “Didn’t sleep well.”

Small metal tables inside with metal chairs to match, both with interesting swirls for patterns making up the surfaces. There were more outside, the cafe a bit cramped in the first place even with just three tables again the wall. The smell of sweet German pastries and salty breakfast flooded your nose, making you lick your lips despite yourself not being hungry yet.

You were already up an hour beforehand, wondering to yourself how you and Adler could be in the car once more into the safehouse. Only to ‘volunteer’ when Lazar knocked on your door to help him grab food for everyone, apparently Adler already gone and left to the safehouse.

You internally frowned at that, you’re not sure why before you felt grateful. You would rather not talk about. . .whatever happened in his car. Which was nothing.

The flash of a clenched hand on the wheel as if holding back and a taut jaw came to the forefront of your mind.

Marionette’s should stick with their role.

It was nothing.

Lazar snorted, making you turn towards him as they both stepped up to the cashier. Lazar pointing towards the dessert window of what to get in a box as you spoke in German to the woman. Several more items of breakfast were ordered that will take some time to make, so they moved to sit to the only open table inside the quaint café.

“You drunk what—four cups of coffee yesterday, Bell? And looking at a bunch of nonsense for hours as if your brain is steel and your eyes can’t melt out of your head.” What a nice vision. Lazar took a sip of the German coffee he got for himself, eyes lighting up at the taste before looking back at you. “All that must’ve been stuck in your head and probably even in your dreams. Had any floating codes flying around your mind as you slept by any chance?”

That’s not quite right, but you’ll take the excuse handed to you as you shrugged. Lifting your own cup of coffee that you doused in three creams and two sugar’s, humming for a moment in agreement to Lazar at the strong and bold taste before taking another one.

“You can say that. I would have kept going and working until I got tired. You would call me a night owl so to say.”

“You seem pretty alright to me now,” Lazar observed as he leaned back in his chair.

“I have an impressive work ethic. Better than others I think. I’m used to going to sleep late and waking up early.” You can infer that your body is used to this schedule, harsh and strict work ethic that you must’ve gotten when you worked with Perseus. “Although, I admit I’m not very hungry right now. You chose a bad partner in this.”

“But you volunteered,” Lazar stared ever so seriously and another sip to his coffee. You could see he was fighting a smile.

You huffed through your nose, shaking your head.

“Yes. How could I have forgotten. Like I did for Kraus.” Lazar slightly winced at the reminder of how you got kidnapped, muttering an apology which you waved away. “It’s fine. I was the best to do that anyways.”

“You sure are pretty accepting with all this work. Just asking and taking files like nothing, ” Lazar rose a brow, you couldn’t tell if it was for being impressed or disbelief. You didn’t say anything to that, the both of you just sipping on their coffee and waiting for their meals to take to the car before heading back to work. You’ll walk past the center table easily and just sit in your chosen desk. Maybe get a lecture about professionalism which you will just absently nod at since you will make yourself feel numb if you have to, just to get away from the man in any way. Lazar paused at your far away look, your cup by your mouth yet you’re not drinking, instead of looking at a simple framed painting of Germany’s hills at the wall. ". . .As much as the boss man likes to act like it, we're not machines,” you blinked out of your reverie, your eyes flicking towards Lazar. “You're not either. Even though you understand numbers with little pattern and words that would have no connection normally—be able to put it together and have it make sense."

You blinked once more, albeit slower.

"I...I know I'm not a machine."

"Do you? Acting like you don't sleep and eat, besides those seeds of yours like you're a bird yesterday outside of the one meal I brought you. Do you sing too?" You released a surprised laugh at that, short as it was with lips still up. "That's better. Thought your lips stay flat like that. I swear, it seems both you and Adler are obsessed with Perseus. See why you're his protege now."

You were struck at Lazar’s words, focusing on him with a frown. The implications that the both of you were similar making you look down.

“Guess we're two peas in a pod.”

You mumbled the last bit, as if to yourself as you lowered your cup on the table.

"What? Oh. . .guess you could say that. But remember this Bell," He throws a pastry at you as you quickly catch it before it met your face(you would always have to be prepared for that before), blinking down at your hands before looking at the kind faced Lazar. "Lighten up. We'll get him so don't push yourself so much. And eat real food too! Seeds! As if that's food."

Your mind showed you moments from your previous life, Lazar always teasing and making you eat and try as much as different food as possible. Away from your decryption tasks as he would wave your plate under your nose as if to entice you.

“No point in being greedy,” The kind man would say, wry smile playing his lips with a tone to match, after letting you try food from his plate, even encouraging it. “Memories—memories with food should be savored and light and new dishes should be enjoyed.”

You thought of when you first found out the truth, still recovering from wounds of Cuba as you sat—away, away from that gurney—and guilt with Lazar—should’ve been quicker, perhaps you would’ve been kinder, kindness is a lie—and asking Park if Lazar knew. About you. About this. MK-Ultra. Everything.

You stared at the Israeli man for a moment before smiling, a mischievous thing. Genuine. Like the man in front of you.

"I am smaller than you, it's enough for me."

"Now you're just poking fun."

Lazar was always kind.

Oh, how he played his role perfectly for you.

At this point, you’ll take what you can get and stop wondering with him. You’ll go mad.

Foolish американский щеноk. The collar around your neck has choked all the trust for others in you.

Best, you think as Lazar easily teased you again, an unreadable look in your eyes as you take another sip of your drink. To just not feel at all.

The breakfast the both of you ordered came, Lazar grabbing the bag as movement behind the counter caught your eye. A worker bringing in a new dessert towards the other German sweets, yellow and round and looking spongy similar to a cake but with a crust like a pie. You walked back up to the counter, pointing and asking the worker in fluent German what was that. Her replying with a smile that it is their pineapple kasekuchen, the German’s take in a cheesecake.

You turned your gaze to the sweet, lost in thought before raising your hand with two fingers up to order, the worker nodding.

You grabbed the box and walked up to the curious Lazar by the door, his brow arched as if asking a silent question. As the both of you exited the bakery and walked towards the car, you still not saying anything and only periodically glancing down at the box with the kasekuchen, even tightening your grip a tad around it when the crowd around them got a little too close, Lazar decided to speak.

“You know,” he began, and you took note that he sounds amused. Almost knowing. You pretended to stay oblivious. “There was this mission I was on in Thailand with Adler a few years back.” At the mention of Thailand, your memory of yesterday in Adler’s car still fresh, you looked towards Lazar as they walked. “Something covert and recon with the usual stray chance of a suicide bomber. The standard for our great unpredictable job. Keeps us in our toes.” His tone was a mix of sarcasm and easygoing, as if suicide bombing in a country was like if he stated it’s going to rain again. Where is he going with this? “Anyways, when we weren’t doing that—we’d stop at this corner store near the safehouse we were in. Boss man would always buy his precious cigarettes, leaves the other stuff we need to actually sustain us to me. Except, he would get something else too. To eat and I always thought each time I saw that, that Adler is human after all.” He glanced down at you, one brow raised. “Do you happen to know what it is?”

You huffed, turning your head away. Them reaching the car and you going to the passenger side as Lazar stood by the driver’s side—still unopened and leaning his crossed arms on the top of the car.

“You sure like playing games today,” you dodged with quirked lips, shuffling the box in your hands to hold it in one as you moved your free one to open the door. “Volunteering me again and calling me a bird and now having me guess what a man like Adler would get besides his addiction. You want to talk about machines, look at him.”

How the puppet lies so so sweetly.

Lazar hummed, deciding to open the car and the both of you going in and settling as they placed the bags down by you to make sure none of it spills. After they pulled out from the space, Lazar spoke once more, offhandedly and an interesting turn of the lips.

“Pineapples sure are sweet and tart. Pretty good too.”

You don’t say anything.

Just made sure your hold on all the boxes of food for everyone didn’t tip over as Lazar would turn. If your grip with the kasekuchen was firmer than the others, you didn’t notice.

Feed the god and you might get a reward.

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ◁ ◁ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

You squinted behind your closed eyes, shifting in your uncomfortable sitting position in the foxhole with only dirt and soil to help cushion you within the trench like pit. The crickets were loud, deafening in the jungle with a periodic squawk or call from a bird deep within. You shifted, your M-16 moving down in your lap from the movement despite your lucky green cloth gloves holding it as you blearily opened your eyes, blinking them against the darkness until they got used to it. The half moon helping somewhat in giving light as well as the fireflies flying around in the dance where only they heard the music.

They were still on their way to Hue City, night coming upon them quicker than expected. The jungles are harsh and thick, especially with the route they’re taking due to their stealth and recon mission, but the planned route was still underestimated. It did not help the planned foxhole they were going to got covered, completely useless and the time to make another one is time they don’t have. Luckily, they were able to find another, although this one was tighter. Two small foxholes that barely fit the five of you, hence having to sit basically in a ball against the wall of dirt behind you.

All of you were doing one hour intervals in keeping watch, the watcher usually standing up in the foxhole in order to watch their surroundings. And if an attacker did come, they could duck within the foxhole for cover.

You felt like you should’ve woken up for your shift already.

Your eyes focused next to you, finding the spot where Larson was supposed to be standing empty. You hastily stood, pack heavy against your back as it tensed in protest at the sudden weight, your hands tight against the M-16 and about to call the other’s names at the missing soldier only to stop.

Your standing position giving you new access to see more besides the sky above you, surrounded by brush and green foliage of all types with high grass upon the ground. Larson sat, just a few inches away from the foxhole a little to your right, staring up in the starlit sky. He turned his head towards you at the sound, seeing you were awake before turning his head back, as if you weren’t there.

“Larson,” you whispered, not wanting to wake up the others in the foxhole next to yours. When Larson didn’t move so the two of you could switch, you reached out to tug on his pack on his back. “You can’t be out in the open like this. You don’t know if VC or NVA might come by in the area.”

“Let them,” Larson said brazenly but just as low, making you release his pack in surprise. “Besides, there’s a bunch of shit around here to cover us. Even this grass is kinda covering my face. Nothing will happen. Now, go back to sleep and leave me be.”

You stared, before sighing. Carefully looking around once, twice, before coming out of the foxhole as quietly as you could—using the open holes on the dirt walls to place your feet to get out. You sat by Larson, who ignored you and went back to staring up at the twinkling sky.

You took a moment to stare at it too. This far in the boonies, away from cities and cars and just filled with wildlife, it has a sort of bewitching air around it. Despite the loud chirp of the crickets, the call of the birds, and how one would sometimes have to smack any open skin for stubborn mosquitos—the trees, the grass, all the greenery that looked dark in the night outside of being lit by the fireflies and the stars and moon above. You were struck once more, just how beautiful this country was. With it’s natural serenity as the moonlight not covered by clouds touched lightly upon to aid somewhat with the darkness but not as much as a flashlight would do, still, the moon did its best even if it was just at it’s half tonight. The stars were there to support it and you wish you learned more about constellations than your books, you’re sure you could spot all of them and weave stories of your own instead of reading them.

“You know,” your attention shifted to Larson, who still gazed up as he spoke, lost in thought and appearing away from here as he spoke quietly. He does not wish to wake the others it seems. “I don’t know if you remember me telling you this, but I grew up on a farm. Small. Not very fancy and it was just me and my family—Ma, Pa, and my two brothers and sister. Out just taking care of our cattle and our horses. Middle of nowhere, we would have to drive about an hour to get to a good grocery store that isn’t just a corner store or gas station. I hated it more that the closest school was about the same length. . . But what could I do? Needed an education, at least some, and than spend the rest of my life worried about a farm. With all it’s cow and horse shit, waking up before the sun does and at the end of the day you smell like all the shit you cleaned up.” He ended, sounding tired and yet with the bitter words it had an iota of equal bitter amusement.

You maintained your silence, instead moving your gaze back and forth around them. Not looking at how Larson’s lips quirked begrudgingly, head tilted up towards the silent night.

“. . .there were a few good things though. When me and my brothers and sister were done with work, and the moon was out—we’d head out to where the cattle were. Laying down on the grass without a care, why bother? We were already dirty with sweat and dirt and shit. And we’d look up—and than—“ Larson reached an arm out, as if to reach the sky, only to clench his hand and put it down back by his lap before gripping his MP40 hard where you could spot how white his knuckles were. “. . .laying down, in the grass, in the middle of nowhere, with just a dark black sky over you. . .it felt like it could swallow us. Whole. Not caring about how we looked or smelled or how old we were. . .it made us feel small. Yet huge. If we pretended enough, we could act like we can really touch the moon. The stars. I guess it just showed all of us there was more, than this little farm. With it’s shit and it’s smell and being in the middle of nowhere. The black sky might just eat us to put us out of our childish misery. Maybe that’s also why we kept going back, not just cause of fucking beautiful it was, but maybe. . .”

Larson trailed off and you decided to speak up, softly. Not wishing to break this odd aura around them, because this was more than talking about how small a human’s life is.

“‘If you gaze long into the abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you,’” you quoted, Larson cocking his head slightly and glancing at your from the corner of his eyes. You released a small fleeting smile. “It’s a quote. By a German philosopher called Friedrich Nietzsche. A depressing guy but. . . I feel like his words fit. The abyss swallowing. . . perhaps it is more you become one with it. A fusion. Where you don’t know where you begin and the abyss ends.”

Larson turned his head away, grabbing a handful of some grass and pulling as he moved his eyes back up.

“Who knows? Maybe. . . shit,” Larson dryly chuckled, “maybe, I should’ve stuck with staring up at my family’s farm home—staring up this abyss right here but there instead. Than maybe. . .you know, I would say sappy shit in my letters to her?” You didn’t ask who ‘her’ was, you could fill in the blanks as you wisely kept silent. “All words about the moon and stars and we were staring at the same one so I wasn’t that far away cause we stared up at the same thing’s. That she had stars in her eyes and if I looked up, I could see her in them. That she pulled me to her like the moon does water and just—shit. Fuck. ”

Larson hissed, putting his head to his hands. His shoulders slightly shook, you could barely tell in the darkness but you imagine he is holding himself back.

“I loved her,” Larson said, voice all cracked and broken as his breath hitched. “I love her still. And she’s—she’s leaving. What will I have when I come back? Go back? I—there’s nothing. We were. . .I went to war for her . Our country .”

You kept your mouth shut. Letting him release his sorrow and emotionally charged words that made zero sense such as that. You learned, especially on the beach night, it is not wise to depend on another’s support when it comes to actions of war.

You didn’t even give Larson the full quote earlier either. You do not think he needed the full one, but you know yourself what Nietzsche was going for. You think Adler might like it actually.

Eventually, you managed to put Larson back into the foxhole as you took watch by him. Standing in the foxhole as you did your shift. A few minutes officially in however, you took note of noise in the foxhole next to you. You turned your head, noticing Adler’s head was out, helmet on and war paint slightly losing their color. You can see his stubble starting to really come in now. He had his shades on, even at this time, in this darkness—but you could tell he was staring at you. Something clicked as you lightly sighed.

“How much of that did you hear?”

“Enough.”

You nodded, turning your eyes around their surroundings with your M-16 in front of you and gripped at the ready just in case.

“You left something out,” Adler said after a while, voice low to not wake the others that it sounded husky to your ears. You glanced at him, brow raising questioningly as Adler’s lips lifted to a knowing smirk. “I don’t know much, but my high school education isn’t too laughable I think. I know that quote. You missed the whole beginning and just gave him the end.”

You blinked, before shrugging as you peered up at the sky for a moment.

“He didn’t need the beginning. Just the end.”

“Some might call that yellow journalism. Or lying.”

“Others might call it wise,” you retorted lightly. “He didn’t need to know it. It wouldn’t have helped. So why give it? Besides, we know it. We’re the only type of people who need it.”

Adler hummed, whether it was in agreement or in thought, you couldn’t tell. You took note of him shifting, hands a little fidgety around his M60 and you felt sympathy swell in you. He hasn’t been able to smoke since the start of this mission, having to be cautious with any type of smoke. You don’t know personally, but you know that the craving for cigarette’s were mind consuming if you did not have one to quell it. Perhaps this conversation was a welcome distraction.

You wonder if this night is just you going to be playing silent therapist.

“Do you think Larson should’ve heard it?”

Adler answered as he kept his dutiful watch around, him facing the area behind you as you focused in front.

“No. He just needed someone to listen. Poor bastard should ask for R&R after this. I’ll grant it to him, maybe he could go to Australia and just wind down there for a week.” He scratched at his face, the war paint surely feeling a little off since he first put it on. “Forget about all this. All of it. The States. The war. He needs it. Hell, we all do.”

Your lips formed a teasing smile.

“Even shadows and monsters need a smoke?”

Adler chuckled easily.

“Everyone needs a smoke as far as I’m concerned. Maybe less people will act like they’re one push away till they make a shitstorm the rest of us need to clean up. But sure, kid, ” he half shrugged, focusing on the sky above with all its celestial like bodies. “Larson might’ve been onto something though with what he was saying.”

“Which part?”

Adler chose silence as his answer, staring up for another moment or two before huffing and turning his attention back onto the ground.

The two of you stayed guarding for a few more moments. You didn’t bother asking Adler why he was up and you had this watch, just like how he didn’t seem to bother to order you to go to sleep. You felt like once more, there was an understanding between you two. Still though, it didn’t stop you from the question bubbling in your throat.

“Since you know the quote,” Adler hummed lightly, showing he was listening. “What do you think Nietzsche was referring to, that the reader itself hasn’t fought with other monsters yet or from experience because he is a monster to not have other’s fight him?”

Adler scoffed quietly, amused.

“Just cause I know the quote doesn’t mean I constantly wonder about it’s meaning, Bell.”

“Humor me.”

“I thought I told you earlier I’m not here to spoil you.” You threw him a sheepish grin, Adler sighing and shaking his head as his expression turned inquisitive with how he pressed his lips together for a moment. “It’s a warning. That’s how I always saw it. But it’s not one we need like you said earlier, kid. We don’t need it.”

You didn’t ask anymore. Because as you thought more into it, he was right.

Nietzsche wrote a warning, to the innocent reader and the oblivious society that put emphasis on morals and truth that he did not agree with.

‘Battle not with monsters, lest you become a monster. And if you gaze into the abyss, the abyss gazes into you.’

Monsters do not fret about what they already are. Just as they are not worried if the abyss ends with them or if it begins.

“Get ready, kid.” Adler said much later as they all slowly woke the others up to move, his eyes squinting behind his glasses as he stared past the trees, the bushes, and the greenery as the beginning of dawn started to rise. “It’s going to be a shit show in a few hours.”

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“Bell”

Second Life

14:02 | February 26, 1981

CIA SAFEHOUSE E9, “DIE LANDEBAHN”

You see yourself as one with patience.

When it comes to this sort of line of work, it is required. A sort of fortitude and composure that not all can be able to acquire but must be needed for this—for lives at stake based on whether you can put up an act or have the tact of an eagle capturing a snake, all sharp claws and silent feathers against the hissing strike. ты хочешь быть американцем товарищ.

“The two most powerful warriors are patience and time,” as said by one one of your favorites, Leo Tolstoy, from one of the best works in history: War and Peace.

You recall last time—stop clinging, you stupid dog—when you stood outside the safehouse in the cold with your head to the book, Adler stepping out and taking note of your book with a cocked brow. Stating his surprise at your book choice as you mumbled something or other as you read, that it is an integral book. You even stating the same quote back to him, a surprise to you when Adler didn’t know of it. Listening as you explained it with a flick of his lighter and calm inhales and exhales of his addiction, showing off where the quote was as he leaned in slightly. Your heart pounding as his warmth was felt without even touching, than a brush of his shoulder to your back as he drew closer. Than it was gone.

“All grim thoughts and wise words with you, eh Bell?” Amused. A fleeting turn of the lips that stayed longer and a gaze that lingered as he stared through you under those shades. “Make sure you take a breather when you raise your nose for air from your books. Can’t do this without you.”

He would tease, but didn’t stop you from taking your reading breaks outside for fresh air. And he’d always ask, curiosity in his expression when you’d show him a line each time. You thought it was special. Their own little thing where you would raise your book and he would lean to you and they would touch.

“Bell, open the door.”

It was just cruel kindness.

Patience, you are using it to your fullest. You can do what you must and see if your actions can work up to something—all your effort and hard work being seen as a good little tool.

Though, time—time is something you may not have. Unless you make sure you’re loyal.

You were quick to drop off the breakfast on the center table, ignoring Adler’s rose brow as you moved. The pineapple kasekuchen in their rightful place. You avoided and didn’t speak outside a quick “good morning” to everyone else and went to work, breakfast by you whenever you got truly hungry.

You didn’t think about why you bought the dessert. Outside the rationalization it shows your loyalty. Perhaps a peace offering to ignore what happened the night prior. You didn’t think much about that at all.

американский щеноk.

Until he called you over to his desk with a wave of his hand, your chest thundering with your eyes wide as you wondered if he’ll say anything. Take you aside in private to talk. About last night or the sweet, you’re not sure. Only for him to motion for you to sit, tapping his knuckle against the file on the desk. You took note the box of the kasekuchen wasn’t there anymore(must’ve already ate it or threw it away) as you blinked, slowly sitting in the seat across from him as he slid the file towards you as he asked your opinion on it.

You scanned, mind wandering and flying, before you glanced up at him. His favorite mahogany leather over him that is second skin, a lighter shade of blue for his collared shirt today under him and his mouth free of a cigarette as well as his hands. Those aviators still on his head, a part of him. Sort of like the beanie—ski—mask over your head as he looked down at another report in front of him. As if he didn’t call you over from your desk to his to help with a file when he could’ve just left it on your desk. As if you didn’t cross a line—you always cross the line, over, behind, or creating a completely new one to do what you must like he does whatever it takes but it was wrong, you are no saint, pitiful mutt—yesterday with your words and questions.

A hand reached towards the file in front of you, knuckle tapping twice, more force this time.

You focused back on the file, only to see Adler already took his hand back. Continuing to read as he patiently waited for your consensus on the file before you.

You were struck than how he’ll handle this, understanding dawning on you as your gaze focused and turned to the file below you and picking it up.

If he wishes to pretend as if it never occurred, it’s fine with you. It’s best either way for both of you. You have too many worries already, Adler included. Best to leave certain things out your mind about the man lest you’ll get clouded. You’re trying to survive. Not get caught up in and tangled in mind games.

You spotted in the corner of your eye Adler give a ghost of a nod, the tiniest tip of the head, imperceptible to others but you knew. He gave a similar one when you captured Volkov, walking up to you with a calm swagger and gloved hands around his weapon, as he moved his head in approval. Such a good girl to be happy with just a nod. Satisfied. He’s satisfied. He knows you understood. Understood him.

“You know me too well.”

“Guess we’re two peas in a pod.”

“I need Bell.”

You raised the file closer, over your mouth formed in a subconscious echo of a pleased smile. You didn’t even feel it. Nor did you feel electric blue eyes behind shades glance towards you before turning back to his work—the silent agreement to keep what happened last night to themselves written and signed without the two of you having to open your mouths.

Coward, you wanted to snarl. To who, you’re not sure. You just focused on what Adler gave you. You’ll need to have Adler let you live so you’ll need to not just be a perfect asset to the others but a person to him.

You have to do what you must.

“Damaged goods.”

You have to.

“You remembered.”

You flicked your eyes towards him, file momentarily forgotten. He didn’t look up from his own file, continuing to read it with the expression he always has when concentrated—a hint of pressed lips that reveals his dimples and brows lowered than usual where it would be difficult to see due to his shades. You would think that mania has truly taken a hold of you, with it’s dark tentacles filled with dark thoughts and mental anguish or rather slithering and multiplying vines where Lykourgos grew mad due to Dionysus’ vengeance except for you it is with choking collars and stifling leashes and cutting strings. He looked as if he didn’t speak at all. All the quiet focus of a war hardened CIA agent that didn’t have a ring on his finger but was married to his job with a badge to show all the same.

But you knew his voice. As if it was your own.

“We’ve known each other for years.”

“Fought together. Bled together. Been through Hell in Vietnam together.”

“We got a job to do.”

“ B e l l, o p e n t h e d o o r . ”

The poor американская сука loves pain like a drug.

“I wasn’t sure what you would,” Adler spoke again, your eyes focusing on him once more. His head still was tilted down and a little to the side, shades facing the paper but you believed he glanced towards you. “The coma did a number on you with your memories. I know you’ve been saying it’s only been about Vietnam but you never specified about what. Or if you happened to remember anything else.” He didn’t state it like a question but he might as well have.

Of course he would ask. Why wouldn’t he?

Nonetheless, you knew what he was referring to in his earlier statement. He ate them. You picked up your file with a small huff.

“Hard to forget, Adler. Of course I would remember. You would hold those cans like a lifeline,” your lips lifted at the memories, of Adler trading with others if he must to get his precious golden ambrosia that would appease him similar to his cigarettes. You kept your lips up despite the quick recall the memories were fake—the trading of trash, the quiet understanding to not speak of it, of beautiful Vietnam foliage and unforgettable talks—just as you glanced at him and continued easily. “Glad you liked them. Wasn’t sure if you would. As for other memories. . . it’s still only been with Vietnam. I haven’t gotten anything else.” Adler hummed, cocking his head a tad before your lips formed more of a smile that you felt. “But at least I still know what I like or don’t. Can’t imagine a clean slate.”

“That’s normal,” Adler said, shades now facing you as you somewhat hid your face with the file. The only thing him being able to see fully was your eyes. “Learn how to calm down and that you can’t take all these shots like you’re a target in a shitty gun range. Might remember more.”

You found yourself snorting, rolling your eyes. Finding dark amusement at his words despite yourself. Perhaps you are growing insane.

“Based on what you told me in the hospital, you would’ve had some holes instead.” The way you said it, it sounds like you still believe it. Like it was real. Dance puppet, dance. You turned up your lips into a semblance of a smirk as you looked over the file towards him. You maintained it even though you think the both of your eyes connected despite the shades hiding. “You don’t have to worry, Adler. I got your back. Always. A few shots is nothing.”

It’s what you would’ve said before. It scares you how much you meant it previously. As if your life was forfeit if it came to having Adler live longer. Nothing else would matter as long as he lived. Nothing. As if the world would come to an end if he fell—the only one that could hold it and keep it straight.

Perhaps he is Atlas after all. . .

The loyal dog with the pretty collar will always protect the master.

Cursed due to his cruelty.

What are you, Russell Adler?

Adler stared at you for a moment, as if assessing your words. Scrutinizing them. He than reached into his jacket, taking out a cigarette and lighting it. Once he did the first drag and released his puff, away from you as you observed the smoke curl around them, he looked back down to the papers on the desk.

“How lucky am I that I got you around than, kid,” he replied, all low and earnest as he took another drag. “Just don’t go dying on me. Can’t have Sims talk to his shrink about something else. He’d be heart broken.”

Adler said that sentence a little louder, so it was no surprise that Sims by the desk put down his magazine and called out.

“I resent that!”

Adler’s lips twitched in response, but kept his gaze down as your heart thundered.

You thought of an explosion to the chest, your heart open and bare for more reasons than you planned. Of soft words to your ear that sounded like regret and something else as you coughed. Of a gentle touch that held you up, hands wandering from your waist to your stomach—stopping just short of a bleeding chest as if they wanted to stop the red—redredredredred—from flowing out but hesitated. An encircling of arms that released heat as you grew cold—you don’t like the cold much anymore—while an expression was carefully guarded with eyes hiding behind a shaded curtain.

You felt your throat tighten. The need for answers to unanswered questions reaching a head.

“Just Sims?” you asked softly, a little breathless and a little confused at said breathlessness.

He glanced up, aviators slightly down and you could barely see his eyes as he exhaled a puff, eyeing you. You staring as his brow lifted for a moment before it settled, an interesting look in your eyes that one might call forlorn. And something else that is dangerous and not meant for monsters who are better alone.

“Maybe another life, kid.”

Mind thine eyes dog, for they show you yearn the impossible.

“You know the answer, Bell. Everyone would be,” Adler leaned slightly back in his chair, cigarette between his fingers in his customary hold between his ring and middle finger. “You’re part of the team. What kind of question is that?”

“You’re still one of us.”

He knows what he’s doing. Just as he knows what you mean.

You bit the inside of your cheek, looking down with squinting eyes at the file. Your hand making it a little wrinkle and you don’t know what you expected. What you’re expecting. He hurts. He pretends. Why would he even answer truthfully when he can dodge and feel less guilt about a hole in you caused by his hand?

He’s—

You felt a nudge against your knee, you looking up in shock with a quick inhale at the unexpected touch. It staying there—his knee, he’s touching you—as you watched Russell tilt his head at you, brow up and lips quirked with a cigarette around it and looking wry and relaxed—what is this, why, what could this be for, why is he doing acts that are pointless yet mean everything when he could just be distant, you are getting worked up over just knees touching, you touch starved little thing—as he motioned his head an iota to the left. Your eyes following the movement to see Park where she was, nearby with her desk and a headphone to one ear but the other still able to listen in despite how naturally quiet you and Adler are with your soft voice and Adler’s low tone.

Park? What does she have to do with anything? And why would Adler of all people care?

You frowned, only for your lips to flatten in realization of her words to you about Adler. To stay away. You now wonder if she did a similar warning to him.

“Insanity breeds insanity as they say.”

You wonder if the pissing match that was imperceptible and the slight tension was more than just two agencies trying to come to an accord.

But why would Park warn Adler?

You glanced back at Adler, who gave a half shrug as if to answer your silent question. It only raised more. You moved your knee back closer to your form and Adler didn’t react as you did so. The both of you turning back to the files that Adler requested your assistance.

Not thinking in the back of your mind of fleeting touches, lingering looks, or a voice to your pounding ear that tinged with remorse even though you couldn’t see his face.

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ◁ ◁ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

You and Park just recently finished going through the report you and Woods got from Ukraine. Sims and Lazar were in the back rooms where the gun range was while Park was in the Red Room. Last you checked, Adler was still in his office with a call while Mason and Woods were by the weight lifting equipment and taking turns to work off some steam due to what was discovered. You were putting the findings up on the evidence board with tacks, careful to not stab yourself. You wouldn’t be as concerned if you were wearing your gloves which you put away earlier by your bunk bed, but than again, you’re quite careful with your gloves. Not only because of the quality, but who got the leather gloves for you when you were just recently discharged out of the hospital back in the States.

You smiled, putting the last tack on the board only to have a sudden weight around your shoulders. You widened your eyes, briefly alarmed only to turn your head to see it was a smirking Woods.

“Done? Good! I’ve been holding off till now but it’s time to fucking see what you’re really made of Bell.”

You blinked, confused and still reeling at the fact you didn’t sense his approach at all. Your mind will zone out over the littlest of things lately. It concerns you. But it hasn’t been a problem so far out in missions, so you think it’s alright.

“And how exactly I’m going to do that? Thought I showed you enough back in Ukraine.”

At that, Woods laughed as he basically tugged you to where Mason was, who was shaking his head at his friend and shooting you an apologetic look as you just smiled that you were okay with it. Their van door open in the back as well as a table and chairs in front. You took note of the packs of beer and you see what Woods meant as he sat by Mason in the van on the floor, you sitting down and observing as Woods took a hefty gulp of a beer.

“I think I know now. But,” you glanced to where Adler’s office was, “is this wise? Isn’t Hudson coming over here soon?”

Woods slammed his beer down, causing some of it to come out as Mason sighed at the wastefulness.

“Man, fuck Hudson!” Woods wiped his chin harshly, irritation coloring his features. “I want to forget about that nutsack for the rest of the day. When he comes, he better not say shit or I’ll punch him again. Maybe with that shit will stop coming out his mouth.”

Mason chuckled, having his own beer in his hand as his eyes wandered to his longtime friend, shifting as he got comfortable in his seat.

“How’s the hand?”

Woods scoffed.

“Pfft. Nothing fancy,” Woods looked at said hand, clenching it as he moved to crack his knuckles as he grinned wildly. “Ready enough, like I said, if Hudson says something smart.” He punched his fist against his hand, muscles flexing noticeable despite his jacket as you couldn’t help but laugh along with Mason.

“I still can’t believe you punched him yesterday,” you spoke up, shaking your head in disbelief. You can’t even imagine anyone punching the intimidating harsh man that is James Hudson. Soon after your discharge, you had to meet with him back in Langley for the mission before all this Perseus business—although you suppose supporting the Polish union Solidarity in fighting back communists have everything to do with Perseus. You don’t understand why the man seems to dislike you so much, especially if the two of you worked briefly before which you sadly can’t remember. He must always be like that with others, Woods doesn’t seem to like or appreciate Hudson’s icy countenance either way. You don’t quite appreciate the man’s secrecy about the nukes, so you see why. “If I even breathe the air wrong around him, I think I will be dead come morning. I don’t think I’m exaggerating.”

“You?” Woods asked, amused incredulity in his tone as he faced you. “The one who basically took out three Heavy’s by your lonesome? Scared of that ball face? You’re shitting me!”

Mason rose his brows as he turned towards you.

“You didn’t say that in the report. You holding out on us, Bell?”

“Right?! Now open a bottle and tell Mason here everything that happened.”

You rose a brow, amusement shining in your eyes, your hand moving to the pack of beer before stopping. The memory of the arcade room making you smile knowingly.

“Everything?”

Woods made a face, cheeks looking an interesting color that Mason caught as he nudged his friend with his elbow.

“What’s she talking about Woods?”

“Nothing! Jesus Christ Bell, didn’t know you could be a little shit like Adler can.”

The words bounced off you easily, already used to the man’s vulgar personality from the mission and even before the mission to go over details, as you shrugged, smirking as Mason kept pushing Woods on what happened as Woods would grumble or drink his beer to avoid answering. At Adler’s name however, you looked back at the office, slightly biting the inside of your lip.

Your breaks thus far outside of eating has just been reading your books or a quick game in the back room. Never for a drink like Lazar would do with Sims and Park at times. Adler, at least what you know of, hasn’t drunk and just has stuck with his cigarettes. You don’t even remember the last time you drank. All you know is that you like it.

But. . . you’re not sure if Adler would approve. You’re always focused on your work and great at it, he depends on you to maintain your focus to catch Perseus.

You subconsciously put your hand in your jacket, feeling the polaroid as you thought.

Woods noticed your apprehension and called out to you, you turning your head back.

“Whatcha fuckin’ worried about? You’ve been working all day from those codes and whatever the shit you put on the board. I don’t think Adler would want you to be worked dry where you don’t even think straight.”

“Only booze can do that,” Mason added helpfully.

Woods nodded, looking too serious it was almost comical since they were just trying to persuade you to drink.

“What he said.”

You took a moment before you shrugged, grabbing a beer and opening it as you stated that you guess you could drink with legends. Woods huffing at you, soon calling you cocky in realization as to why you made fighting Heavy’s not a big deal and not impressed with him. Mason seeming to find it funny as the three of you drank and talked about the mission more freely and colorful words with Woods. You did slightly flush when Woods told Mason you were a nerd for playing a quick game while there were Russians preparing for their training course, Mason snorting as you hushed them when Park grew near them. Not wishing for her to find out.

Quickly hiding it by inviting her to join just as Lazar and Sims came back, the two men seeming to easily join in as Park contemplated as she stared at the beer. With a sigh though, she sat by Lazar as she took one.

“Next time, I’m buying the alcohol here. You bought rubbish, Woods.”

“‘Rubbish?’ And beer is beer, nothing wrong with good ol cheap beer sometimes,” Woods defended. “Adds to the flavor.”

Lazar smiled, raising his bottle.

“Cheers to that.” Lazar and Woods tapped their bottles in the middle when they reached over, an easy aura settling between the group.

Sims got a bottle, assessing the name as well as the pack as he did a dog whistle.

“Germans know how to do one thing right, and that’s beer. You’ll be fine Park. It could be worse,” Sims took a drink, humming as he did so while Park frowned at her bottle when she took a few sips.

“Worse?”

“It could’ve been canned,” Mason answered, speaking from experience that made you raise a brow as you took a drink, settling further into your seat. “Canned cheap beer you can basically taste the metal. There was one time back in the States where I practically shitted myself due to this cheap beer I got at this random gas station in the middle of nowhere. Ruined my night.”

“And your pants it seems,” Lazar commented, mirth clear in his tone before he released a laugh along with Sims guffaw at the Israeli’s words. Park shaking her head but anyone can see her smile on her lips as Woods stated that’s what happens when you’re in “bumfuck nowhere” and probably got experimented with weird moonshine.

You snorted in surprise, covering your mouth as your imagination pictured the soldier rushing to the bathroom lest an accident happens. Mason? He seems so serious all the time, which you can understand why. You’ve read up what you could on everyone here, the description’s were small but you could fill in the lines. He’s lucky that he has such a good friend like Woods.

It soon became a trading of stories between everyone about drunk nights and how they reached that point, Lazar running with a bowl of chili and Woods determined to make condom water balloons and Sims was just finishing his own passed out in random deck chairs story when the door of the office opened.

You immediately turned towards where Adler now stood, staring at all of you as he closed the door and currently free of a cigarette. Your anxiety only grew when Adler turned his head towards you, as if he was asking you personally on the situation as you could only throw him an apologetic yet impish smile. Adler’s brow rose.

“Adler!” Woods called, raising a hand and motioning it for the man to come over. Adler approaching the group as you could only stare and tried to get a read on him. Alas, it was hard to discern his mind even if you could spot him glancing at everyone and the table with bottles. “Join us while there’s still beer left! Planning to drink all of this before Hudson comes. He can’t say anything if there’s no evidence.”

Adler hummed, stopping behind you and Sims as he appeared in thought. A trickle of hope coming up your chest at Woods offer.

“All of you are in luck,” Adler eventually answered, the subtle amused tone not lost on you as you intently focused on it. “Hudson isn’t coming till early in the morning tomorrow. Got caught up with something with Black. Can’t imagine how he would react if he saw all this.”

“Fuck ‘im,” Woods spat, reaching for a bottle and throwing Adler one. Adler catching it with his hand, shaded eyes turning towards the bottle to read the label. “We’re not here to please his every whim and cater to him like we’re his butlers. I say it’s a perfect time to wind down. We were just trading stories of getting shit faced.”

“All of you were,” Park corrected easily, “I don’t plan on sharing any such event.”

“Never say never, Park,” Lazar said, a grin playing on his lips as he winked at the British woman. “I’m sure a lady like you has quite a collection of stories.”

“A lady never says her secrets.”

You were still staring up at Adler as Sims playfully groaned at Lazar’s flirt tactics that Park didn’t seem to mind, Adler tilted his head down and met your eyes. Seeming to assess before turning his gaze towards the evidence board, which now had additional papers than previously since he entered the office, assessing. He than turned back towards you, you impatiently waiting as you shifted in your seat to see if he would let all of you continue, his eyes seeming to follow when your hand went to your jacket pocket.

Adler released a huff of soft exasperation, a shadow of a smirk playing on his lips.

“Don’t see the problem. We can all use a break from all of this.”

You practically beamed as Woods whooped, you moving a seat over where you were now next to Woods. Adler taking your seat as he sat by Sims now, opening his bottle as he asked whose story they were on. Sims continuing it and finishing before Lazar had another one. You listening with a smile or laughter, feeling the most at ease since this whole mission started you think. You believe that Adler must feel the same way, appearing relaxed as he sat and leaned back against the chair, beer forgotten and customary cigarette on his lips as he listened.

It made you want to take a picture of this moment. You standing up and announcing to the others you’ll do just that, Woods raising a brow at you.

“You and pictures. You a photographer or something? I hope you’ll at least show me what pics you took of me instead of those Red’s building.”

Your cheeks felt heated as you turned towards Woods, standing over him with fists clenched by your side as you called his name, askance. Making the man laugh at your expression, your irritation leaving you due to it but you gave him a warning look and call of his name which he caught. Not wishing for you to say the story, as Adler watched nonchalantly.

“Pictures? Got distracted again, Bell?” He asked, almost sounding like a tease only for the others to join in that you really loved that camera. You pursing your lips and appearing like you were pouting, as you turned away and got the camera from the Red Room quickly. Taking the picture of everyone only for Woods to motion his hand for it to your bewilderment.

“What? Don’t you want one with you in it too?” Woods asked, grabbing the camera from your hands as he grinned up at you. Adler and Park glancing at each other behind you, Adler flapping his cigarette hand uncaringly in answer. Mason raising a brow at the exchange but staying silent as his eyes moved back towards his loud friend.

You didn’t think of that but you stated you wanted one with everyone than, Park raising her hand for the camera to do the setting for it to be timed and placing it on top of Sims car he was working on earlier. All of you turning your chairs slightly, getting close with beers in hand and you trying to maintain a perfect smile even with Adler’s knee touching yours. The camera flashed, you feeling something by your head only for you to lightly punch Woods shoulder once you saw he must’ve gave you bunny ears in the photo. Him laughing away as you fought your own smile, his rugged charm rubbing off on you as Adler inhaled quietly as he watched the exchange.

The stories than eventually moved to mission stories, and than, unsurprisingly—to Vietnam. At this point, Park and Lazar retired for the night—Sims eventually doing the same when he noticed it turned to Vietnam. Which left you, Mason, Woods, and Adler—Adler just finishing up the story about what happened in Hue City, leaving a few details out you noted but loyally and wisely kept silent, as Mason took it in with a slight nod of his head.

“So that’s what happened on your side. Shit. . . that whole place was a shit show since the beginning. Lucky I only had to do a quick in and out by just getting a dossier.”

Woods snorted, nursing his fifth beer.

“That whole war was a shit show. Only good thing that came out of it is telling stories about it years later in a depressed warehouse. While a whole other type of war is happening.”

At the mention of the reminder of them losing that war, you spoke up.

“Not the only thing,” you couldn’t help but say, lost in thought as you looked at the ground.

Adler turned his head towards you as Woods and Mason did the same, curious.

“And what’s that, kid?”

You kept your gaze down for a moment more before flicking your eyes to the side towards Adler.

“We’re all still here, aren’t we?”

✯ ▙ ✯ ✯ ✯ ▞ ✯ ✯ ✯ ■ ✯ ✯ ✯ ▞ ✯ ✯ ✯ ▙ ✯

Ȳ̶͇̝͐ó̶̘̈ṵ̴̡͑͒ ̴̯̗̅ŵ̴̭͘â̸̭̼̤n̵̼͚̘͑t̶̠̮̯́̏ ̶̭̝̱̄́̅ţ̶̠̑̈̚ǫ̶̳̉́ ̴̘͖͊͊͘ͅ ̵̡͋́ṣ̶̞̆̚ ̴͚̲̕ț̸̓ộ̴̍̐p̴̣͓̾́ ̴̫̗̆͜ḫ̴̛̦͓́́ẽ̴̛̻̋ṛ̵̲̞͈̅͠ę̷̼̯͔̍̌͌?̶̫̩̆͆

̷̼̈́

̵̣̽̉͛

̶̝͋͂B̷̝̾̾u̸͚͊̕ţ̷̛̭͖̈́̾ ̶̱͑̔i̷̩͇̤̐ṯ̴̪̓̓ ̷̜͊d̸̆͜į̶̩͔̉̏d̵͔̓͝n̴̨͇͒’̵̰͑́͂ţ̸̯̯͋ ̷̧͖̣̿̒e̴̥͋͝n̴̘̱̿̕d̸̛̤̹̔ ̵̡̡̩̈̐h̷̫͔͂͜ë̴̺̜́͑͊ȑ̶̺͉͠ĕ̴̥̉.̴͕̭͌̕͠

̸̠̹̿̊̿

̸̠͊̅

̸͙͓̬̂͒͝Ë̶̼̙̭́͘̕ ̶̳͆v̵̱͙̿̋ ̴͔̇̋ę̷͚̫͆̃̈n̵̥̣͈̏̅ ̷͇̮͒͊ ̴̛̺ ̶̡͆t̶̢̘͒ḧ̷̺̉ě̸͓̼̂ͅ ̶̬̲̫̈b̶̟̪̒̒ę̵͊͝s̶̟̱̐ţ̴͙̳̆̚ ̶͔̈́d̸̝̭͑̈́͒o̸͖͑̓g̸̨͌̈́̀s̴̹̫̖͗̅ ̶̯̝͛ḷ̶̬̔͌̐i̷̘̥̓́k̴͕̓͝ĕ̷̡̿̽́ ̵̖͗̾͘ţ̵̟̤̈́́̽ö̴͖͕͙́͗͝ ̴̦̂͊͝r̶͉͈̊̆̔ų̴̝̋̈ņ̶̼͛ ̶̭̦́.̶͔̇̄

̶̫̘͒̌̿

̵͓̱͇̆̕͠

̷̧̰̙̇͝B̶͕̐̐̓e̸̖̟̋ŝ̶̨t̵̗̎̀,̴̯̥̐̕ ̶͚͓̓̀́ť̶͐̂͜ŏ̸̢̿̉ ̵̨͎̄̿͆ć̷̣̓͑́ơ̶͔͓̋̿̔m̵̧̢̩̃ê̸̘̠̠ ̴̰̫͠͝ͅb̶͇̔̒ą̶̤̯̰̽͊c̸͈͗k̸̩͉͙̓̿ ̷̻̼̰͆ẃ̶̞͙̃͒͌ḧ̵̘͑̒̃e̵̜̰̓͘͝ń̶͙͒̚ ̵̪̖̥̊̈́ȑ̷̢̌̎ẽ̸̛͇̂ͅà̴̞̖̫d̸̤̺̽͛ỳ̴̰̊͝ ̷̠̌͝f̴̢́͊o̴͉̒͠r̷͕͙͙̽̋́ ̶͈̾̉t̴̥͒͘r̷͉̘̐́ų̸̠̔̋́t̴̨͚́̾h̷̖͕̯̀̒͛.̵̫̟̬̄

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ▷ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

“Bell”

Second Life

15:47| February 26, 1981

CIA SAFEHOUSE E9, “DIE LANDEBAHN”

Soon after you said your thoughts to Adler about the file, you moved to go back to your desk only to pause by the T.V. You turned back, Adler raising a curious brow as he put out his cigarette with his ash tray nearby. You asked him for any other files he may need help with, Adler saying nothing as he reached another file by him and handing it to you. You grabbed it, your black leather gloved hand grazing against his bare one as you took it. Taking note of what he said about it before turning to your desk and staying there. Ignoring a probing stare in the back of your neck.

You’ll do what you must, but if he expects you to stay by his side when he inconvenienced you earlier by making you come to him. . . Well, you think a little petty action is worth it.

Besides, you have to think by yourself for a moment. The call about Volkov squeaking his rat mouth should’ve came already. By nighttime—you, Adler, and Park should already be on the way to Ukraine and meet up with Woods and Mason.

Woods and Mason, you think fondly with a sad smile of a whirlwind of a man drinking back beer after beer like water with a deep throated laugh and the silent soldier with sad eyes yet listens attentively and a kind smile that brightens. Oh, I’ve missed you guys.

They were barely in the safehouse, out in missions constantly when you would decode and just being the team’s powerhouse duo. When they were here though, the safehouse was louder. More easy and free, less stifling and grim due to the work they were doing. They had a certain charisma very different than Adler’s, one’s that captured you in a different manner so it is no surprise you managed to get close and hang with them more than anyone when they were here. Sims being distant, Park communicating with MI6 about the CIA, Lazar determined to woo the agent when he wasn’t cleaning and prepping weapons, and Adler was. . .busy watching you were in line you suppose.

Card games and stories being shared, Woods and Mason not seeming to mind when you were around them. You suspect Woods let you get close to make sure you don’t tell his precious secret and blunder back in the arcade room in Ukraine. Although you would tease him that you might at times.

You feel like that in your other life, Park was right. You don’t think those two knew about your situation. It just made you like them more.

Because at least with them, you’re positive it was real.

“I knew I could count on you.”

You wished they were able to save you from Adler though. But they were tired and celebratory of what they accomplished. They took in Adler saying you and him were just taking a detour at face value.

“Do not trust Adler. He is lying to you.”

Adler always lies.

You have to remember that. And to just brush away any kindness he may show.

It’s not real.

Is it?

A loyal and trained dog through and through.

When you saw it was nearing 1700 hours, you looked around where Park was. Seeing she was with Adler in the corner by the weights, conversing with him with a crease in her brow while Adler looked as if he was only mildly taking note of her words as he puffed along his cigarette. A trait of his you knew frustrated the British woman. Adler likes to feign disinterest a lot. It could be seen as a weapon to make others talk due to how irritating it could be or make one cautious at how apathetic the man can act or look.

You walked over to them, your ears getting the tail end of whatever was ailing Park.

“—not making light of this and reign it in. Oh, Bell.” Park’s tone softened, a sharp contrast that stood out to you as she noticed you step up to them. Adler not even glancing at you as he continued his smoke, or at least not turn his head towards you. It’s dark in this corner so you wouldn’t be able to tell if he turned his eyes towards you or not unless he moved his head or body in your direction. “What’s wrong? Any new updates on the decryptions?”

You shook your head, looking between the two of them before settling on Park.

“What’s the word on Volkov? He talk yet?”

Park sighed.

“I’m afraid not. He’s proved himself stubborn despite his tastes being similar to what makes the U.K. great.”

You cocked a brow, a teasing smirk playing on your lips.

“Medieval torture devices not his style?” You asked, calling back to what Park said about Volkov’s hobbies.

Park matched you, amused as she shrugged lightly.

“I believe the lack of scotch is what will do him in personally.”

“He has to talk soon,” Adler cut in, exhaling a puff as you and Park turned towards him. Adler faced Park, arching a brow as he continued calmly. “Your guys over there aren’t giving him a good time right now, I imagine. The last thing we need is for him to be tight lipped.”

Your throat turned dry. You think you regret mentioning this as Park answered.

“He’s not the type to remain loyal if his back is to the wall. His selfish demeanor and arrogance will what cause him to try to strike a deal with us. It will benefit us than him in the end once he breaks.”

“If he breaks,” Adler added with a frown. “If he still doesn’t talk by the next two days, we might as well have killed him once we saw him. He’s useless.”

“She’s of no use to us anymore.”

You swallowed, moving to pocket your hands in your black bomber jacket as your hands clenched along with your jaw.

Park frowned at Adler, disapproving.

“He knows a great many things. Not everyone can handle interrogation for so long and be able to stay silent about anything that might give them reprieve.”

Oh, look, you thought sourly, bitterness starting to rise once more as you maintained your blank expression besides your taut jaw. They’re complimenting me. How nice of them to say I wasn’t easy for them.

Control your tongue, you stupid dog.

Adler huffed, it almost sounding like one mixed with amusement and exasperation as he shook his head slightly.

“Perseus’ people are almost as slippery and conniving as Perseus himself. And dangerous.” Adler took another inhale and exhale, the smoke curling around them and going over your head as your gaze lazily followed it to distract yourself while Adler did the same, tipping his head up to watch. “Perhaps he knows if he talks, he might as well be dead. We don’t need an Aldrich in the MI6 either.”

Park’s demeanor straightened at Adler’s accusation, the possibility of having a traitor or spy in her agency a great insult. She was about to say a scathing retort surely, but you cut her off.

“He’ll talk,” you say cooly, unreadable gaze towards Adler as he finally turned his head in acknowledgement towards you.

“What makes you so sure?” He asked, curiosity lacing his tone along with intrigue as he moved to place his cigarette for another puff.

You straightened your shoulders as you stared deep into his aviators that shadowed him properly to be America’s Monster.

“They all eventually do.”

Adler paused his hand, lips not around his craving as he stared towards you. Both your gazes not breaking even as Park looked between the two of you before settling with staring at Adler with slightly narrowed eyes.

Adler pressed his lips, a whisper of a smirk as he did it and nodded towards you once more before turning back towards Park.

“You hear that, Park? No reason to worry. Everyone talks. Right, Bell?”

“Yes, sir.” You say, ignoring how your stomach churned yet your heart pounded. You’re no saint. “We both know how to make them.” You slipped out, knowing eyes not leaving his face as you twisted a knife.

Adler didn’t seem to notice, or care really as he seemed to throw Park a mildly triumphant look. You don’t know why it would. You wouldn’t either and can care less about those you tortured—whether false or real.

Monsters do not worry over every drop in the red ocean they created.

Y o u’r e n o s a i n t, д е м о н.

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ▷ ▷ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

You had headphones in, listening to the audio log to finish up the decryption despite the lack of other Intel so you could put all your focus on Operation Red Circus. Instead of the exchange earlier, all of them.

So you didn’t hear when the garage door opened and a van to come in, but you did when it got slammed closed. You jumped in your seat in the corner on your desk, hidden behind the evidence board and the T.V. You lowered your headphones, curious to see what was going on and if Sims brought in another car, only for your breath to hitch in your throat. You standing up so quick your chair almost fell back as you stood next to the T.V., heart thundering only for it to stop as you stared avidly, wildly, madly, hopefully.

Adler moved his hand to guide the red van in, sighing out a puff of smoke as the driver came out.

“Hudson barely gave me any warning about this before you guys arrived. Didn’t think he was going to give the okay on this based on the latest call on Volkov.”

“Well, you know Hudson,” the voice that spoke was quiet yet deep with how it spoke in easy amusement. If one strains their ear, you could spot the reserved soldier with sad eyes and a kind smile. “Always the one that loves to talk.”

“Pfft, yeah,” this one, this one was all rough and throaty as if it got abused in the past from events unknown but one can guess. If one just takes a glance, you could discern the storm stuck in a body yet does a light drizzle for friends despite the thunder. “Hudson’s a real charmer. Don’t tell me that the Russian Godfather decided to finally open his mouth right when we got here.” At Adler’s nod, the one man army groaned. “Man, jet lag is going to be a fuckin killer! Forget hotels, I’m sleeping here until we head out.”

They’re. . . Your hands shook by your side. Not paying kind to Park who stepped out the Red Room, head turned towards you and approaching you as she called out to you. You only stared as you bit the inside of your lip.

Sims, who helped pull the van in and was now leaning against the side of it, shook his head amiably with a chuckle.

“I wouldn’t do that unless you’re fine with a raggedy ass mattress that looks like hasn’t seen the light of day since the ‘60s.”

“I believe the ‘70s personally,” Lazar spoke up as he sat on his desk, empty plate of takeout near him. “It still has potential if one’s desperate.”

“Yeah, well I’m desperate. Now where is it?” He turned his head along with his friend, comrade, forever ally just as they took a few steps close to where Park’s desk was and seeming to notice you the first time. Adler tilting his head at you, you silently just staring at the two as if you haven’t seen them in years, puffing silently as his brow rose curiously. But you could only look dumbly, eyes feeling a little pressure. They’re here. “Who are you and what the fuck are you looking at?” Woods asked sharply.

You blinked. Once. Twice.

Your lips lifted into a smile before it opened, letting a loud bark of a laugh come out. You’re laughing.

When was the last time you laughed? Genuinely?

You could practically feel the stares, but you didn’t care. They’re here.

They were real.

Once your laughter calmed to chuckles and giggles, clearing the corner of your eyes for any possible tears, Adler stepped up between you and the two soldiers. Giving you a quick once over behind his glasses, you waving your hand at him dismissively slightly at his unanswered question, his brow furrowing before relaxing as he put an arm out towards you.

“Woods. Mason. This is Bell, my protege. I spoke to you about her before.”

You quickly fixed yourself and your expression as you took a polite step forward, you probably look absolutely insane. They don’t know you despite you knowing them. Calm down. You just didn’t expect that a change like the others would be this. Oh god, you looked insane.

“Sorry,” you began, a tiny sheepish play to your lips, “I just—you guys are both legends and I just didn’t expect to see you guys here. At least, so soon. You could say I was a bit. . . excited to put it lightly. Hope I didn’t scare you off?”

Woods and Mason stared at you, Mason having distant amusement playing in his brown eyes as Woods non-subtly leaned towards Mason, a hand slightly covering his mouth.

“Careful Mason,” Woods falsely whispered as he eyed you with suspicion. “We have a rabid fan on our hands.”

“I think she can hear you,” Mason didn’t try to whisper but it didn’t matter as Woods suddenly snorted as he crossed his arms.

“Listen here, Bell. The last thing that’s gonna scare us is someone who got excited about seeing us like we were the fucking—what is it these days? Someone gimme a hand.”

“You talking about bands?” Lazar questioned, Woods nodding as he glanced behind to where the dark skinned man stood by his desk, Lazar staring up in thought. “There’s Fleetwood Mac still going on.”

“Not like how the Beatles was going on,” Woods answered, a little too seriously as you fought a smile while Mason moved and leaned against the evidence board.

“Hear there’s growing popularity with AC/DC and Kiss. They’ve been on the radio a lot lately.”

Woods swiped his hand back and forth as he made a sound of disgust.

“You comparing us to those guys that look like they came out of hell, Mason? What do we look like?”

“I think it fits,” Adler dryly stated, clicking his lighter on to light his cigarette. Woods telling Adler he’s not helping as Park came by next to you with a hand to her hip.

“If demons don’t work, there’s always the Queen. And I’m not talking about the one I serve.”

“Queen is pretty good,” Sims said from behind, “but you guys had to have heard that new song Celebration by the Kool and the Gang. That shit hits.”

“Whichever!” Woods turned towards you asking you how exactly you know about them, you answering honestly that you read up on them on the computer. Seeing no point in hiding it as Woods gave a vicious grin towards you. “Well, aren’t you a nosy little shit. You always read up on everybody?” You were once again honest, saying you like to be thorough with everything but you only had a brief description to go off about them. Whatever secrets they may have is safe with them. Woods sniffed, slightly backing off and Mason appeared to have relaxed his shoulders. “A nosy shit with manners at least. And balls to say all of that to our faces despite what you read.”

True, if you did not know Woods and Mason. Despite that one time where you truly felt their intimidating aura on you, once you get to know them, they’re softies that are loyal. Even with Woods barbed and vulgar words and Mason always observing quietly behind with an assessing look in his eyes, you know they’re shields. Walls. To help with whatever occurred before—just like everyone else here.

And, just like there’s walls. . .

“There’s no innocence here,” you answered, shrugging with a bitter smile.

Woods stared at you for a moment before guffawing, pointing in your direction as he turned to face Adler who stared at you behind his shades as he inhaled his addiction.

“Where’d ya find her, Adler?” Woods asked, before than flapping his hand. “Answer that later. I need food and to knock the fuck out for tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” You repeated, even though you already knew as Adler answered.

“Let’s go over the details briefly. You were right, Bell. Volkov talked.”

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ▌▌ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

You watched after the meeting how Woods moved, all loudness and an army in one body with the propriety of one would find in any soldier—none at all. Refreshing. Needed. Even though he looked at you strange when you offered to help with setting up his bed that was all dust and old in the storage room by the generator.

You wonder in the end, after the cliff, how Woods reacted after just saving you from a large sheet of metal debris. Is it naive thinking that he might’ve been mad?

You looked at Mason, more careful with your approach as you smiled softly at him while you gave him the quick rundown that everyone has a spot chosen for their work. That they could use the desk by where they put the projector if they want. Mason raising a brow at you but letting you once you wisely gave him his space.

Would Mason be furious? You were unlucky because you were under the wrong flag. You were born a Russian. If you weren’t than, maybe, they would’ve kept you like they did him.

Meanwhile, Adler—a gaze that never falters, and eyes that are all-seeing with how hawkish they could be, does he see(?)—observed you silently as you moved to and fro with an energy that wasn’t there before. And a smile that looks genuine. He sits back, and watches.

“Shame you were born in the wrong country.”

There’s a lot of shameful things that are tied to you. But like any good monster, any foolish Icarus, and any stupid girl—you’ll ignore them.

American pup—американский щеноk

American bitch—американская сука

You wish to be American, comrade—ты хочешь быть американцем товарищ

Demon—демон

I don't know if it's been too subtle--but Bell isn't exactly. . .mentally/emotionally healthy right now. Adler is just everywhere. But maybe Woods and Mason can help now by just being there.

I love those two a lot.

This Second Life of Bell is coming to a close soon, this has gone longer than planned but thank you for everyone that has been with me so far! ^///////^ Happy Late 6th Anniversary of Undertale that inspired this story's plot <3

I am having trouble contacting my beta due to Tumblr being stupid with messages. Maybe I can reach them here, please contact me on Discord under username: Animefreak1145 (Code #8517)

*PM me if you wish to be Tagged*

@quizzyisdone @zulema117-blog @efingart @pinkpinkboota @nuclear-boston @lifeisthemoments @jintana-critical @eclectriccanoeseven @hurricanesyd-blog @parkeepingparker @moonchild365-blog @aurora-windu @imperfectophelia @dvesinthewind @holy-crap-i-am-russlle-adler @i-will-give-you-love @adlerboi @preciouslilcreature @saynotohydra @mayaibnlaahad @smokeywhalee @0shuni0-blog @multi-fandom-imagine @littlepotatowizard @direwolfspostsrandomshit @darlingor @collinnmckinley @kayalect @nikkibell1937 @fuzzybonkeggsopera @ppfedd @bro0kebxrter @actuallyilya @stayb1ack @frankwoodsmalewife @tr1ppylady @nocturnalblurbee @salvija @gojocat247 @dallmaistir @animecriminal @weirdoartist21

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lilacs-fandom-garden · 3 years

Text

Incorrect Quotes 3

Sorry for not updating in a while, anyway, Merry Christmas! Heres Incorrect Quotes 3!

Ships:

Crossmare

Errorink

Dustberry

Scifell

Horrorlust

Driller/Kreme

Afterdeath

Fandom: Undertale AU’s

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Blue: I'd like to address Ink's annoying personal habits.

Ink: Oh my God! What personal habits?

Blue: I have a list. FYI overuse of the phrase "Oh my God" is number 12.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dream: I'm sorry for all the stuff I said.

Ink: And for punching me in the face?

Dream: No, you definitely deserved that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ink: It's a good thing I still have this sexy cat costume!

Blue: I really don't think you were the target audience for that costume.

Lust: There is nothing gendered about a sexy cat.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Blue: I made tea.

Ink: I don't want tea.

Blue: I didn't make tea for you. This is my tea.

Ink: Then why are you telling me?

Blue: It's a conversation starter.

Ink: That's a lousy conversation starter.

Blue: Oh, is it? We're conversing. Checkmate

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ink: Am I cool or what?

Geno: What.

Ink: I said, am I cool or-

Geno: Yeah, I heard you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ink: You go big or you go home. And you don’t seem like the kind of person that goes home.

Cross: I’m not. I don’t even really have a home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dust: Those pants look great, and I bet they’d look even better on Horror’s floor.

Horror: Are you hitting on Lust... for me?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Killer: I've lied to every girl I said "I love you" to. I thought I loved them but then I met you and realized I've never been in love before.

Dream: Aw. I did not know that.

Killer: Yeah, it was eating me up inside. So, I called them each individually and said "I never loved you."

Dream: Okay, that seems unnecessary.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Blue: We're going mattress shopping.

Dust: You know, once we get it, we'll have to break it in.

Blue: Oh, I hear what you're saying. Mattress trampoline.

Dust:

Blue: Wait, no. You were talking about sex.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Blue: Uh oh.

Fell: What?

Blue: Somebody's in love.

Fell: Yeah, right. I just think Sci’s cool. It's not like I lay awake at night thinking about him.

Fell, later that night: shit.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dream: You guys just got back together. You might not want to ditch him on his birthday.

Blue: I think Dream has a point. You can see it another day.

Ink: But someone might spoil the movie. No one can spoil Error's birthday for me. Surprise, he's even older. Who saw that coming?

Dream: Aww, that's nice. Put that on his cake.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dust: We're lost.

Horror: Lost? As in "where the hell are we?"

Dust: We're not totally lost. We're still in Waterfall.

Killer: You said this was a shortcut.

Dust: It is a shortcut! Look how fast we got lost!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Killer: Before I do anything, I ask myself, would Dust do that? And if the answer is yes, I do not do that thing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cross: Nightmare, I typed up your symptoms into the thing up here, and it says you may have network connectivity problems.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cross: I would have been here sooner but the bus kept stopping for other people to get on it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dust: How do you keep your pants up when battling? Its incredible!

Error:

Error: belt.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dust: Nightmare!! Theres an ugly monster under my bed!

Killer (who is on the bottom bunk of the bunk bed): Alright. Screw you too!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dream: You took so long in the shower!

Ink: Yeah sorry, I was at a concert.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cross: Holy crap, you’re so violent-

Error: Yeah, but i'm short so it's adorable.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nightmare: I scared them again didn’t I?

Cross: They’re terrified of you-

Nightmare:

Nightmare: That makes me so happy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ink: Error?

Error: What?

Ink: You kicked me in your sleep!

Error: ….who said I was asleep?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Horror: Why would you give Dust a knife?!

Killer: He felt unsafe.

Horror: Well now I feel unsafe!

Killer: …...would you like a knife as-well?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Error: Okay, lets stop using the term ‘butt-hurt’. We are adults not 12 year olds.

Cross: You sound fannytroubled.

Ink: A little bootybothered if you asked me.

Dust: Someones having a tushytantrum

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nightmare: HAS ANYONE SEEN MY SONS?!

Nightmare: OH GOD HORROR!

Nightmare: THAT MOTHERS ADRENALINE IS KICKING IN-

Nightmare: DUST!

Nightmare: I CAN SEE EVERY EQUATION!!

Nightmare: Excuse me ma’am?! Have you seen my sons?! They’re about this tall- all clearly gay but we havent had the talk.

Nightmare: KILLER ARE YOU IN THERE?!

Nightmare: *kicks down trash can violently*

Error:

Error: Cross control your boyfriend jesus-

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Enjoy some quotes from Disney/Nickelodeon Shows!: (I uh- also added some cusswords lol-)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dust: I'M PREGNANT-

Killer: You’re not pregnant!

Horror: Wait- who’s pregnant?!

Dust: ME!

Horror: Congratulations!

Killer: He’s not pregnant!

Dust: Easy Killz! I’m with child-!

Killer: You’re not with child!

Horror: I’m gonna be an uncle!!!

Killer: YOU’RE NOT GONNA BE AN UNCLE!

Horror: Then who’s gonna teach the little guy how to ride a bike?!

Error: Calm down Dust! You’re not pregnant.

Dust: Then why am I so moody and nauseous?!

Dust: I think it's the morning sickness!

Error: ...Dust…

Error: you’re a boy.

Dust: ...oh yeah-

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sci: Sorry, but the convertants of air streams coming from the vents are creating a dangerous draft on the guest chair.

Blue: Alright...but if I catch a cold and start coughing and sneezing uncontrollably it will be on you. LITERALLY-

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Blue: Ink! Geno! Please..! Violence is never the solution-

Blue: *gets hit in the face by a pillow and falls down*

Blue: HECK WITH THE NON-VIOLENCE..! I AM ON YOU LIKE STRIPES ON A TIGER-

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Killer: *snoring on the couch*

Nightmare: Awww- he fell asleep mid clean! I’ll wake him.

Nightmare: KILLER!!!!

Killer: AHH! *sprays cleaning spray on Nightmare’s face*

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cross: Who took all my scarfs?! I need them for tomorrow--

Dust swinging on a rope made out of cross’s scarfs: *doing a tarzan yell and crashing into the kitchen*

Dust coming out of the kitchen with spoons forks and knifes on him: Now that was awesome!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sci: Well...I brought a book you could read-

Ink: NOOOOOOOOO- *runs away*

Sci: Too easy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Blue: I'm a hugger!!!!

Dust: I'M A HUGGIE-

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Killer: I did not see that coming.

Killer: *gets smacked in the arm by a drone* OW!

Nightmare: Apparently you don't see a lot of things coming.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Horror: ...what's that?

A random stranger: It's lasagna… and it's for a Christmas Party I’m going to.

Horror: We could have a party right now-!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cross: What are you all getting Nightmare for his birthday?

Killer: A slightly used lip balm.

Dust: A free hug.

Error: My profound admiration.

Horror: *picks up salt shaker* This salt shaker.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ink: Oh, this is my chum bucket! I’m going to catch a giant squid and tame it!

Dream: ...you’re a weird kid.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lust: Now all we have to do is wait for the guests to show up!

Lust:

Blue:

Lust: Oh...we forgot to invite people….

Blue: Yup, sure did-

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nightmare: Its not like anybody died…!

Dream: We haven't seen the rest of the tape…..

Nightmare:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Killer: IS THAT A TATTOO?!

Killer while rubbing Dust’s arm: COME OFF COME OFF COME OFF!!!

Dust: Hey! The only thing coming off is my arm!

Killer: What am I going to tell Nightmare?! Oh….oh! I got it! We’ll just cut off your arm!

Cross: Good idea! Because that's easier to explain then a tattoo.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Horror and Dust: *battling with pool noodles*

Blue laying on the ground: HALT!

Horror and Dust: …?

Blue: Does anyone have a pillow? This ground is really hard!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Killer: Nightmare can you do me a big favor…?

Nightmare: You need a handsome man to go with you to the reunion? No problem...I’ll do it!

Killer: I meant to see if you could call one of your friends or your brother but uh-

Nightmare: *death stare*

Killer: okay...you’ll do-

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dust: Two days to learn a language?

Dust: I got some spanish for ya! No way Jose- haha!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cross: And I’m sorry I said he was my favorite-

Horror: It's alright Dad! To be honest, I always preferred Nightmare.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dream: I know there is still some good left in you!

Nightmare: No there isn’t-! Wait.

Nightmare: *visibly cringing*

Nightmare referring to Passive Night: Agrh! There's still a piece of good. DARN IT!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dust: *pretends to yawn to sling his arm over Blue to dim the lights*

Dust: Do you mind?

Blue: Not at all. While we’re at it.

Blue: *throws one of Error’s puppets at the radio to play some convenient romantic music*

Blue and Dust: *about to kiss on the couch*

Horror in the kitchen doorway: *holding a glass of milk* What are you doing?

Blue and Dust: AH! HORROR!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ink: What are you saying? That I’m dumb?!

Error: Well- no… you’re just not very….thinky.

Ink: Thinky? Why did you say that?!

Error: Because Geno told me I cant call you dumb.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dream: Hey Killer? Can you get me some punch?

Killer: Sure, I’ll be right back.

Passive Nightmare: Cross? Can you get me some punch too?

Cross: What? Your feet dont work?

Passive:

Cross: Ice or no ice…?

Passive: Surprise me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nightmare: If you all want your phones….

Nightmare: *shows box of phones* They’re right here.

Blue:

Dream:

Horror:

Dust:

Killer:

Ink:

Blue visibly shaking:

Dream: Blue…

Blue starts vibrating a bit:

Dream: Blue.

Blue starts vibrating:

Dream: BluE-

Blue: *war scream*

Everyone except Nightmare and Blue: OH SHIT-

Blue: I NEED MY PHONE- *starts running at nightmare*

Everyone else: BLUE NO *tries to restrain Blue*

Blue screaming: *kicks Ink in the stomach causing him to fall backwards*

Dust and Horror screaming: *trying to hold Blues legs and arms*

Blue still screaming: *elbows Horror in the ribs*

Horror letting go of Blue: OW!!

Dust accidentally lets his grip loosen on Blue: HOLY SHIT! HORROR?!

Blue who is still screaming: *pushing Dust to the ground and running at the box* I NEED MY PHONE-

Killer: *tackles Blue*

Dream: *helping Killer restrain Blue*

Ink: *confused screaming*

Nightmare: *laughing*

Blue: *flips over also flipping over Killer and kicking him in the chest*

Killer: FUCK! *rolls over and clutches onto his chest*

Dream: HOLY CRAP BLUE CALM DOWN- *grabs onto both of Blue’s arms*

Blue screaming and kicks Dream in the shin: I NEED MY PHONE-

Dream: *falls down grabbing his shin* MOTHER FU-

Blue running and grabbing the box of phones: GIVE ME MY PHONE-

Ink trying to grab hold of Blue: BLUE WAIT-

Blue screaming and hits Ink in the face with the box: AHHH

Everyone else except Ink: *charging at Blue*

Blue grabs phone from out of the box: I GOT IT I GOT IT-

Horror: *hoists up a screaming Blue in the air*

Dust: *grabbing Blue from the thighs lifting him up even more*

Killer: *grabbing Blue’s phone from his hands*

Blue: NOOOOOO-

Killer: *puts Blue’s phone in the box*

Blue screaming and squirming: NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!

Ink: *grabbing a chair*

Dream: *helping Dust and Horror restrain Blue*

Blue: *flipping around screaming and kicking*

Nightmare: *still laughing*

Everyone: *sets Blue down on the chair Ink grabbed*

Dream, Horror, and Dust: *holding Blue down on the chair and shushing him*

Blue: *calms down*

Ink: Holy shit...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Here are more incorrect quotes:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Killer: Hey do you want to- stop screaming, its just me- do you want to watch a movie with me?

Dream: I'M IN THE SHOWER-

Killer: Okay well when you’re done with that do you want to watch a movie with me?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

F!Frisk: You don't think I can fight because I'm a girl.

Blue: I don't feel like you can fight because you are in a wedding dress. But for what it's worth, I don't think Ink could fight in that dress either.

Ink: Perhaps not, but I would make a radiant bride.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Classic banging on the closet door: Fell! Open up!

Fell: Well, it all started when I was born-

Classic: No I meant-

Blue: Shh....let him finish.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dust: *sneaking in through the window at 2am*

Nightmare *flicking on the light and turning around in his chair*: So, Where were you?

Dust: I-I was with Cross!

Cross *turning around in his chair*: Wanna try again..?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Epic: Bruh, I want to give you the whole world but like...I only have 20 bucks.

Cross: Dude, come here.

Epic: *moves closer*

Cross: *hugs him*

Cross: I don't have any money but I got the world right here in my arms.

Epic: B r u h...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Killer: How high was I last night?

Dream: You forgot what milk was and called it cereal water.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Blue to Ink: What time is it...?

Ink: Don't know. Hand me that flute and I'll find out

*Ink plays the flute*

Dream: WHO THE FUCK IS PLAYING THE FLUTE AT 2 AM?!

Ink: It's 2am

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cross doing a CROSS-word puzzle: I need a 9 letter word for disappointment....

Ink: Nightmare.

Dream and Cross slowly rising from their seats: Are you ready to fucking die..?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Blue: How do Horror and Dust get out of these messes?

Killer: They don't. They just make a bigger mess to cancel out the first one.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Passive Nightmare: Do I want to be feared or loved? Easy.

Passive: Both. I want people to be afraid of how much they love me.

Cross under his breath: Then I'm fucking terrified.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ink: I'd like everybody's attention. Christmas is canceled.

Blue: You can't cancel a holiday.

Ink: Keep it up, Blue, and you'll lose New Year's.

Blue: What does that mean?

Ink: Dream, take New Year's away from Blue.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lust: okay so the gingerbread house instructions say to be very delicate-

Sci: *holding power drill* DELICACY!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Killer: I can't believe you and Horror broke the bed last night.

Dust: It must have been wild.

Lust: Haha... Yeah...

[Last Night]

Lust: Bet 35G you can't jump high enough to touch the ceiling.

Horror: Try me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cross: Hey ya'll. So, I know I'm the new guy here, but I think I can speak for everyone when I say... I don't know what the fuck is going on.

The Bad Guys: Agreed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[Sets kitchen on fire]

Dust: shit- we need an adult.

Horror: You ARE an adult!

Dust looking extremely terrified: oh...oh fuck.

Horror: WE NEED AN ADULTIER ADULT. QUICK GO GET KILLER!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nightmare: It's hard being the leader of the bad guys sometimes, but I love them all and that's all what matters-

Horror: Nightmare! Me, Fell, Dust, Killer, and Lust tried to make ramen in the coffee pot and we broke everything....

Nightmare: [inhales]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Killer: You need a hobby Dust.

Dust: I already have a hobby Killer.

Killer: How many times do I have to tell you stalking Blue is not a hobby.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Error: Ink? Why are you on top of the fridge?

Ink: Can I not be wherever I want?! Maybe I like it up here!

Error:

Error: Wheres the spider?

Ink, quietly: Underneath the table...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dust: I have come up with a three-step plan to get Nightmare to marry you!

Cross: Okay...Im listening....

Dust: Step one! Get him to play truth or dare.

Cross: Never mind please stop.

Dust: Step two! Wait for him to pick dare.

Cross: Dust. I swear.

Dust: Step three! Dare him to marry you.

Cross: God damn it.

Horror from another room: IT MIGHT WORK!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Killer: Synonyms are weird. Because if you invite someone to your cottage in the forest, that just sounds nice and cozy, but if someone invites you to a cabin in the woods, you're going to die.

Blue: My favorite is 'butt-dial' vs 'booty call'

Sci: It's called connotation

Lust: Also, 'forgive me father for I have sinned'

Lust winking at horror: Vs 'sorry daddy, I've been naughty'

Horror whose face is now completely red: I-

Nightmare: Congrats! Language has officially been canceled.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dream, joking: I should have Killer kill you for that

Killer from another room: who?

Dream: Oh no its okay, I was kidding around-

Killer, walking in, with a hammer and knife in both hands: No, is he bothering you?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Classic teaching Fell how to drive: Alright, you see Dust walking in the middle of the road. What do you hit?

Fell: ...oh definitely Dust.

Classic: The brakes Fell! You hit the brakes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dust: Quick! Take my hand!

Blue: *grabs Dusts hand* Now what?

Dust: Nothing. I just wanted to hold hands!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cross upset: I hate you guys and I'm never talking to a single one of you ever again!

[10 minutes later]

Cross kissing everyone's forehead: Goodnight Horror, Goodnight Lust, Goodnight Dust, Goodnight Killer, Goodnight Error.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Blue: Psst! Error!

Error: what?

Blue: I made this friendship bracelet for you!

Error: Blue... you know I'm not really a jewerly person...

Blue: Oh. Its okay! You dont have to wear it-

Error: No. I'm going to wear it forever back off.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dust: Me and Killer get along fine! Right Killz?

Killer: I've never been more stressed out in my entire life.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cross: I guess I'm just too tough to cry.

Horror: Just yesterday you were crying about snakes.

Cross sobbing a little: THEY DON'T HAVE ARMS HORROR-

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Reaper: Hey bitches!!! I've got starbuckssss-

Dust: YAY!!!

Error: FUCK YEAH-

Lust: AWESOME!

Nightmare: Reaper...please...its 3 am in the morning....

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dream: Are you a cuddler?

Killer: I AM A MACHINE OF DEATH AND DESTRUCTION- yeah I'm a cuddler.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Classic: Dont talk to me.

Papyrus: What happened brother?

Classic: I went and joined a Sans look-alike contest...

Classic: AND LOST-

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dream: Sibling relationships are weird.

Dream: Like, I'd give Nightmare my spine but no way is he borrowing my charger.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dust: Whats it like dating Nightmare?

Cross: One timeI asked him for water while he was still mad at me, and he brought be a full glass of ice and said "wait".

Dust:

Cross:

Cross: I love him-

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dust: I can't go. Stress is bad for the baby.

Killer: What baby?

Dust: Me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ink: I hate it when people ask me "whats the stupidest thing you've done?" Like bold of you to assume I've reached peak dumbass.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nightmare: If someone ever kidnapped you, I would hunt them down to the ends of the earth so I could kill them.

Cross: If you asked I would literally kill everyone in this room with no hesitation.

Dream [A little terrified and disturbed]: You know this is not what normal couples say to each other right...?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Geno: How do you politely tell someone you want to hit them in the face with a brick?

Sci: One wishes to acquaint your facial features in a fundamental item used in building walls. Repeatedly.

Lust shedding a fake tear: Thats the most beautiful thing I've ever heard....

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Blue, opening a Capri-sun: Guess I'll just drink my sorrows away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sorry if I posted a quote twice-

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hahanoiwont · 3 years

Note

WAITT!! do you have any fanfic recs? PLEASE IT’S SO HARD TO FIND GOOD UT FANFICS! Also any dancetale fanfics specifically?

Sure! I was actually midway through compiling a rec list anyway--I feel like my more Sans-centric first arc of WWU is fairly short, so it might leave people wanting more Sans-centric gen h/c fic. Here are some you may not have seen before, since they're all under 10,000 hits:

Memories in the Void (Kuma_in_Pink): ~90k, ongoing. This fic begins with an ordinary afternoon out going terribly wrong, and proceeds to have the classic "cast must view one character's important memories" trope in a really interesting way, going from Sans's childhood to (presumably) genocide runs and finally post-pacifist. Really confronts some questions that are underexplored in the Undertale fandom, I feel, and the author is really nice. Please go leave them a comment if you check this one out! But, uh, probably not a good fit for big fans of Asgore. This is Soriel, and I believe the only shipping fic in this rec post.

remember a second ago (nilchance): ~4k, oneshot. Papyrus, as an intangible phantom, follows his brother through a genocide run after his own death at the hands of the human. Really well done, and a great Papyrus and Sans study.

Baby Spinach (dotYoo): ~40k, complete, first in a short series. I finished this fic for the second time this morning. This is a babybones fic, with Gaster as a major character who encounters Sans and Papyrus as a couple of surprisingly self-sufficient children and bribes them to come home with by offering half of a sandwich (he ate the other half) and free access to high-level scientific research. I cannot recommend this fic highly enough--both the tone and characterization are just lovely, and fill a hole I wasn't even aware of in the fandom. Gaster's struggles with the rules and structures of socialization and child-rearing are often comedic, but never feel like a punch down; and once you know how to look for it, his disarming quirkiness hides a keen mind who absolutely knows what he is doing. Sans is adorable through the whole thing, and his rapport with Gaster is utterly charming. Seriously, I generally have some rough points with kidfic, but I love this one.

Those are my very favorites of the less-known fics I've read lately, but I'll put a couple of others under the cut.

Getting to the Root of Things (dotYoo): ~14k, complete. Ending and aftermath of a Flowey Possession AU, which are always interesting to me. Lots of good h/c and Sans and Papyrus learning to communicate with each other. Healing from the ground up.

The Doctor's Charges (Aeris_Blue): ~150k, complete. Tragically published during the 2018-2019 era when fics were simply not getting as much recognition. This one's another babybones fic, where Sans is a big fan of Gaster's, and Papyrus is therefore a secondhand big fan of Gaster's, and Gaster is charmed by the two of them as he continues to make increasingly less necessary visits to the orphanage they live in until he chooses to adopt them, after which much of the story begins. Sans and Papyrus are twins in this one, which I love. It has an unhappy ending, which unfortunately means that I stopped reading about 2/3 of the way through and chose to imagine everyone was happy forever; but it was certainly worth it to read the parts I did get to!

And finally, for something more Frisk-centric and much more in line with Whither Then:

The World, Upside Down (Last_Haven): ~130k, first part of a series. This fic features a deeply flawed but well-intentioned older Frisk, who finds themself in a strange sort of reset years after their pacifist run...they've somehow gone from their own world (UT) to a version that is much less friendly (UF). Now as an experienced adult, they make their way through the Underground in order to free their friends and find a way home. This fic inspired a lot of my very early ideas about what Underfell is and how it works, and the climax is especially well-written and gripping. The sequel is a set of side stories for the main fic, and features a romance between UF!Sans and Frisk; but if that's not your thing you miss absolutely nothing by sticking to the first story--it's a full and complete story in and of itself. It's been a long time since I've read this fic, but I still remember it--I was honestly shocked to come back to it and find that it was obscure enough to fit in this post. If you like AU-hopping and deeply flawed but still good characters, this is a great fic to look through.

I think that's all I've got--as for Dancetale, I will make this confession: I have actually not interacted with that much multiverse content. I'm pretty sure UF is the long and short of AUs I've actually read about...and only then in connection to UT, I'm pretty sure. I mostly just see a lot of art and invent the characters from there?? Which may be why my characterizations are slightly off the beaten path. Or, I assume they're off the beaten path. I guess I wouldn't know?

#long post #undertale #fic rec #it may surprise you to know that what i read is not totally congruent with what i write #but i get too easily frustrated reading things that are /almost/ exactly what i would want to write #and i just don't write ship but i'm happy to read it #so i read a lot of stuff that i love a lot but wouldn't write myself #it inspires me a lot but it's different enough that i can channel that inspiration back into my own writing #instead of starting a million unfinished ideas #........tho tbh some of the baby blaster fics tempt me. there's so much potential in that ay #*au #and so many ways to go that haven't been explored...#maybe one day #but in the meantime! here's some cool stuff

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keelywolfe · 3 years

Text

FIC: A Lonely Impulse of Despair (standalone)

Summary: They knew about the anomaly and the resets, but forewarned is not always forearmed.

Notes: I got this idea into my head that what-if all the skeletons knew at least something about the anomaly and the resets and this is where it went. Read the tags!

Tags: Spicyhoney, References to Undertale Genocide Route, Dark, Angst, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Rough Sex, Lemony

Read it on AO3

Read it here!

~~*~~

Snowdin always lived in darkness, broken only by the lighted lamps along the streets, powered by the core. There was no sun underground, no illusion of dawn and dusk. It was morning simply because the clocks stated it to be so, and that morning, Edge left his home to walk down the empty streets to the shops at the far end of town.

The other houses in town stood vacant. There was an occasional window lit, flickering light casting shadows out onto the snowdrifts, but their former inhabitants were gone.

There was no sign of any violence in those homes. None of those windows were broken, the doors undamaged. He’d gone into one where the door was standing open and found dishes in the sink, a pie sitting on the back of the counter for an upcoming dessert. Half-folded laundry sat in a basket, books and toys strewn about as if they were only waiting for their owners to return.

Edge touched nothing, only left and closed the door carefully behind him.

On this morning, snow was falling in a silent flurry. The flakes were piling up on streets that were no longer cleared daily by the Bun family. It was barely a hinderance. His boots cut easily through the loose drifts as he walked, alone, down to the other side of town.

There were children here once. Not so carefree as the ones he’d seen in the other Universes but even here on clear days they played in the snow until their parents called them back inside as the more dangerous night hours came.

A ridiculous notion. The illusion of safety during the day hours was just that, an illusion. There was no difference in the Underground and every minute of any day could bring treacherous events.

From a distance, Edge could see the lights were still on in the store. He’d left them on the day before when he’d come this same way. The store was the closest building to the edge of town that led into the woods surrounding it. If anyone were still out there, those lights could guide them into Snowdin.

The bell over the door rang as Edge pushed it open, a cheery warning to no one at all. The shop was as empty as the homes. The shelves had never been fully stocked at any time in Edge’s memory and the meagre offerings lining them were thinner than ever. There were no more fresh baked goods and only a handful of dried food remained. Most of the commodities left were canned, their lids coated with a thin layer of dust.

(dust, so much dust, how could it be)

Half of the remaining stock would have fit in Edge’s knapsack. It would make more sense to take all the food there and bring it home with him. Spare him the walk out in the open, keep him with necessary provisions for a time. Sensible.

Edge only took enough for the day and carefully noted what remained so he would know if anyone else came scavenging. Monster food would not rot or spoil, but eventually, he was going to run out of rations.

He gathered up the day’s supplies into his knapsack and went back outside into the swirling snow. He didn’t follow his half-buried tracks back home, instead going around the outskirts of town along the perimeter. None of his traps were disturbed, there was no indication that anyone had traveled this way. Just as it had been yesterday and the day before and the day before that. No signs, no people, no other Monsters.

There was nothing in the woods but hungry shadows that beckoned and cajoled for him to join them. Come to us, they said, there is nothing left for you in that town but emptiness and death. Come with us into the swirling snow and listen to secrets that only the mountain knows.

Edge ignored their call. He stopped at the borders of Waterfall where the snow began to melt into sludge and turned back, heading into town along the main road. He was nearly home when he caught sight of something that stopped him in his tracks. A figure in a familiar orange hoodie was sitting on his front porch steps, casually disregarding of the signs to ‘keep out’ and ‘beware’ that were strung on the barbed wire fence around it. There was a lit cigarette in his hand and Edge watched him lift it to his mouth and take a long drag, the exhaled smoke lost in the falling snow.

He hitched his knapsack higher on his shoulder and resumed his stride. Stretch didn’t look at him as he approached. “hey.”

Edge said nothing.

“you’re still here,” Stretch said. He tapped ash from his cigarette, exposing burning red at the tip. “thought maybe you’d’ve headed into new home.” He tipped his head back and looked up at what was not sky, but the high ceiling of a cave deep beneath the mountain that was both their prison and their home. “might be other refugees there keeping ahead of—” He hesitated, then added in a voice like hollow ice, “the anomaly.”

The anomaly, yes. The Human child whose soul offered no salvation, only death and dust.

A child, that was what Edge saw in that one brief instant when he came upon them on the road leading into Snowdin. An innocent child, and in his shock, he didn’t consider how they’d gotten past the Dogs or the traps. He didn’t notice the dust coating their clothes, didn’t even notice the knife in their hand. All he saw was the striped shirt, the round, cherubic face and in that instant, he was so taken aback that he paused. That moment of hesitation was all it took.

If Edge saw them again, he wouldn’t hesitate to strike them down, Edge told himself. He would cut that angelic head from their striped shoulders with a single cutting blow and leave them dead where they stood, even knowing he would never get the answer to his one question.

Why didn’t you kill me?

He told himself that was what he would do the next time and knew it wasn’t true.

It never was.

Stretch finished his cigarette and flicked the butt into the snow. “doesn’t help much to know this,” Stretch sighed, “but what the hell. you’re gonna forget this all. one morning you’ll wake up and it’ll be an all-new day. you’ll forget everything, the kid, the pain.” His grimace twisted into a crooked smile. “you’ll even forget me, for a little while. silver linings, am i right?”

“Why are you here?” How many days had it been since he’d last spoken? Edge wasn’t certain, but to his hearing, his voice was harsh with disuse, painfully hoarse.

Stretch rolled his shoulders in an approximation of a hug. “checking in. no one’s heard from this ‘verse in a couple weeks. wasn’t too hard to figure out what was going down.”

Not a difficult guess at all, he was sure. They all knew about the resets, all of them. They knew an anomaly came and what it did, and the price Monsters paid for their hubris was death. He��d known what was coming, he’d been braced for it since his brother took him down to the basement and showed the machine, the path to the other worlds where skeletons with faces that resembled their own lived in towns that were not their home. Anomalies, they explained, resets where time flowed backwards and took memory with it.

He’d known and he’d still failed, failed, because he hadn’t expected death would come with the face of a child.

“Come inside.” Edge didn’t wait to see if Stretch followed.

Inside, Stretch paused on the doormat, glancing around the living room. “keeping the homestead clean, i see, i—whoa!”

His breath left him in a grunt as Edge took hold of his sweatshirt and swung him around, shoving him up against the closed door. The faces were inches apart as Edge gritted out, “Why are you here?”

There was no fear on Stretch’s face, only that same irritating smirk beneath a deadened gaze. “told you, wanted to check on you.” He shrugged again, this time tight and nervous. “no one else was gonna. no one’s real sure what’ll happen if the reset comes while someone from another ‘verse is in town. probably shouldn’t even be here, but, eh, guess i ain’t too bright.”

The question of what would happen if you were in a different universe when the reset occurred had been asked before and it was one without an answer. There was simply no way of knowing if anyone had already tested it. For all anyone knew, they might all once have had an elder brother who tested the theory and found the price was a high one. “You might be leaving your brother alone.”

“heh.” A soft laugh, but Stretch’s gaze shifted, moving to look past Edge at the wall on the other side. “ain’t like i’ve ever been able to save him, anyway.”

Edge didn’t step back, but he loosened his grip on Stretch’s sweatshirt, let him slide a little down until his feet were firm on the floor. “If you’re here to try to convince me to leave Underfell—"

“nah. wouldn’t do that to you. see, i’d ask and you’d say no but you’d feel bad about it.” Stretch shook his head. “nah, you already don’t want to travel, i’m not about to send you on a guilt trip. who’s to say it’s safer, anyway. maybe you’d come over to visit and when the reset hit here, it’d drag you back on home through time and space. not my idea of fun.”

“Is that why you’re here?” Edge demanded. “For fun? Come to see Underfell at its safest?” He stepped back enough to wave a hand towards the window as mockingly as Mettaton on their latest game show. “Please, feel free. Wander through the woods, stroll down main street. But I warn you, the scenery will disappoint. There’s nothing out there. I’ve looked. There’s no one, nothing.” His voice was rising, going shrill and Edge shut his mouth, teeth clicking together painfully.

Patiently, hinting at petulance, Stretch said, “i told you, came here to check on you. it’s hard to be the last one around, all you can do is sweep up, put the chairs on the table, and wait for them to turn the open sign on again.”

Edge searched his face. Their skulls were more malleable than simple bone, their magic gave them life and Stretch’s skull was creased from worry, wearing his exhaustion like a skin. Beneath his sockets were grey shadows that spoke of sleepless nights.

They’d never gotten along, he and Stretch. Something about the other skeleton grated on him past the fact that he despite his face, he was more like Red—

(don’t, don’t think about him, don’t)

--than Edge. Not his twin, but a reversal, a twisted mirror image come to visit from the other side of the looking glass.

Despite his smiles, right now he looked more like Edge than ever, blank and bone-weary.

There was nothing inside Edge. Even his soul was empty, its contents drained by loss, cold and bitter as the snow that danced as it fell.

Yet, deep in the dregs of soul’s ashes there was a single spark left, and Edge reached for it, desperate for any lingering warmth. He leaned up and kissed Stretch, their teeth grinding together almost painfully.

Between their mouths, Stretch made a startled sound, but he made no attempt to pull away. He stood there with his shoulders pressed to the door and let Edge take his mouth, their tongues meeting in a furious tangle. He tasted sweet and did not flinch from the jaggedness of Edge’s teeth, licking daringly at the points in a silent, mocking challenge.

The spark inside him flared, kindling caught, and Edge tore away, panting. Before Stretch could offer a word, taunting or otherwise, Edge took him by the wrist and dragged him stumblingly over to the sofa. He pushed Stretch down, bent him over the threadbare cushion of the arm. Tall as he was, if he’d chosen to struggle, it would have been difficult to pin him. Instead, he sagged willingly down against the sofa arm, let it angle his pelvis upward even as he shifted in a deliberate writhe of offering.

The gray that had haunted Edge’s vision for days receded, like a shroud pulled from over his sockets. He took hold of Stretch’s ridiculous, saggy pants and yanked them down to his ankles to rest on top of his dirty sneakers. Beneath them he was bare, his magic forming in his pelvis. The bright orange filled his sight to overflowing and the slit of his cunt glistened like a taunt.

Without warning, Edge pressed two careless fingers to the opening, slipping both inside and Stretch lurched under him, a strangled cry escaping him. He was merely damp, not nearly wet enough for what Edge intended.

He kept a hand at Stretch’s hip to hold him still and dropped to his knees to bury his face against those soft folds, pushing his tongue in alongside his fingers. A sudden buck nearly threw him off and Edge held him down more firmly, slicking his tongue up that cleft between his scissoring fingers, wetting him thoroughly. Stretch whimpered, shivering, his hips rocking back desperately against fingers and mouth both.

“oh, fuck,” Stretch whined. His breath came in ragged blurts, catching and resuming in a shattered cadence. “edge, your mouth…fuck!” His fingers were curled into the sofa cushion beneath his skull, gripping tightly as Edge pushed his tongue deeply inside, tasting a sudden blurt of honey-sweet wetness that allowed his fingers to move easier.

Slowly, Edge stood, letting his fingers slip free and wiping them on his pantleg. He stood there a moment, taking in the sight in front of him. The quiver in Stretch’s shoulders, the perfect arch of his spine beneath his rucked-up sweatshirt, his femurs spread as wide as his hobbling pants allowed. The shift of his hips was as eager as the wet pussy between them and wordlessly, Edge unzipped his trousers and pulled out his cock. He spit in his hand and spread the wetness on his shaft before lining up. He held there a moment, pussy lips parted around the broad head and the slippery opening clenching around it as if trying to suck him inside.

Over his own unsteady breathing was a constant stream of obscenity and begging, words spilling endlessly from Stretch. With a long, slow thrust, Edge pressed inside, ignoring Stretch’s increasingly desperate pleading and the urgent rise of his hips. When he was hilted inside, their pelvic girdles grazing against each other, Edge was forced to pause, closing his sockets at the unbearable intimacy of it. Edge couldn’t remember the last time he’d touched someone else, but it was before the anomaly (child) ever came here. Even the person he was closest to, his brother, never touched him, not since he was small and they curled up together to sleep, less affection and more to share their body warmth.

The slick tight heat surrounding his shaft was an overload to his touch deprivation, the rippling clench dragging a ragged cry from him as he tried not to come in an instant. Edge took a steading breath, licked his teeth and tasted his own sweat mingled with the sweetness of cunt, and only then did he move.

“nnngg, god!” Stretch sobbed out, his limp body battered against the sofa as Edge found a rhythm, pounding into him with a metronome-steady pace. His scant ectoflesh offered little cushion, their pelvic bones clacking together achingly. Edge ignored the discomfort, thrusting harder still and listening for protests that did not come.

Beneath him, Stretch covered his mouth with a hand, stifling himself even as he pleaded for more, for harder, fuck me harder, you bastard. His other struggled to reach beneath him, his skinny fingers briefly jabbing where they were joined as he sought out his clit. Edge felt it from within as he found it, the strangling clench of his cunt around him, and choked on a curse as he fucked in hard, his driving rhythm faltering, breaking, as orgasm struck him. He was empty inside, but he filled Stretch with the heat of his come, spilled in thick, hot pulses as Stretch whined and quivered, accepting his offering.

Withdrawing was difficult, made harder by both the spasming clutch of cunt and his own reluctance. In the end, Edge snatched himself free with the haste of someone (a child) pulling off a band-aid from a barely healed wound. He watched the crimson spill of his magic as it followed, wet streaks dripping down to paint the inside of Stretch’s femurs. Stretch didn’t move, his breathing still coming in hitched gasps as he laid in a half-crumpled drape over the sofa arm, his long legs still splayed, leaving him used and exposed.

Edge tugged his pants closed, his zipper loud in the silence. “You need to go.”

“heh.” Stretch stirred, his sockets slitting opened as he shifted enough to look over his shoulder. “kicking me out already? your afterglow sucks.”

“Be that as it may, you can’t be here when it resets.”

Perhaps something of the kindled spark in Edge transferred to Stretch somehow, in his kiss, in his come, in his words, he didn’t know which. There was some emotion in the smirk Stretch offered him, his gaze less empty as he asked, “worried about me, edgelord?”

“Yes.” The raw honesty was all he could muster.

Stretch exhaled, long and slow, turning his face briefly into the cushions where they’d all sat once, crowded together on the cushions to watch silly movies that were scavenged from the dump. With a low grunt, he slowly pushed up to his feet. He staggered and Edge caught him by the arm, holding him up as Stretch reached awkwardly for his pants, hauling them up over his stained femurs.

“yeah, i should probably go,” Stretch said. He didn’t move, his hands fluttering nervously to his pockets as if to reach for his cigarettes then aborting, moving aimlessly before returning to his pockets before repeating (resetting) again. “listen, you won’t remember this after and my memory is gonna get all smudgy again, but.” For one moment, Stretch’s gaze was entirely unshielded. Edge couldn’t decipher what he saw in his eyelights before he took reached out, taking hold of Edge’s face between both hands as he leaned in to kiss him, softly. A brief, gentle meeting of mouths still sore from the brutality of earlier, then he pulled away. “maybe we can do this again sometimes.” Unguarded eye lights above a crooked smile, then Stretch turned away as he added, carelessly. “hell, could be we already did.”

“Stretch.” He paused at the door, browbones raised, and Edge blurted out, “Do you think they remember what they’ve done? After a reset, do they know?”

A brief silence, then Stretch said, slowly, “to be honest? i’m not even sure it’s the same kid every time.” Stretch shrugged, a loose roll of his shoulders as if his ligaments still weren’t too tight. “maybe somewhere out there someone is sharing a controller. anyway, your bro should be sending ‘em back to the start menu soon enough.”

“Yes.” His brother. If he was still alive and don’t, don’t, don’t.

Stretch left without another word, the door closing softly behind him, and Edge gathered up his knapsack from where he’d dropped it to get his supplies.

He ate directly from the cans and tasted nothing.

Afterward, Edge curled up on the sofa that smelled of their sex, his cheekbone resting on the faded fabric close to the still-damp stains as he waited for the world to end or to begin again.

Whichever came first.

-fin

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #standalone

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jamestrmtx · 3 years

Text

Fairytale Complex - [Undertale | Sans x Reader]

[Gender Neutral, Frisk's Parent Reader | Slow Burn]

Chapter Three | sans. (Part 3 of 3 | His POV)

[First] | [Previous] | [Next]

As if being blessed by Lady Luck herself, the owner of the establishment calls for Jerry to tend to unloading inventory, forcing him to end his glare on Sans and move his attention elsewhere. His internal conflict manifests itself through physical means, as he stays frozen in place to settle between keeping his job and minding his business with the monster. With another call from his boss, louder and firmer this time in comparison to the friendly reminder from earlier, he clenches his jaw and loosens it up with a scoff. "You're damn lucky the place's packed," he says, looking back towards Sans again. He takes a stray receipt from the counter, takes a pen, and scribbles something on it, handing it over to the monster when he's done. "Take this, and stay the hell away from my family."

"So like you're doing?" Sans counters, snickering.

"Screw off."

The man leaves him be with those last two words and another worker takes his place behind the register, looking fatigued from presumably having to deal with all the work at the back by herself. The expression on her face says it all: she overheard only some parts of the conversation, and was either curious to know more about it or misinterpreting the situation altogether, though she doesn't mention a word about it. Rather, she picks herself up and greets him with a smile. "Good afternoon, sir. For here, or to-go?"

That simple question settles a puzzle in Sans's mind; given he barely knew the human waiting for him at the table, he couldn't make any rash decisions, so he considers all the options through and through. He could make an easy escape from meeting with Jerry again simply by choosing to-go, yet he still wanted to talk with (Y/N) about the subject of Frisk and the Underground. Not only that, but ordering to-go without informing them about it wasn't something normal for how much they knew each other; rather, it would seem rude to decide without giving the human a chance to speak their thoughts on the subject. And if he invited them to eat their orders out elsewhere, it would look wrong; either like he really did mean his vaguely flirty texts, or that he didn't feel comfortable enough with them around.

"Sir?"

"To-go, please," he blurts out, it being the first thing on his mind.

The monster tells her both orders and is then asked to wait. He does so by walking off back to the table, where Frisk's parent still waits at, either completely oblivious of what went on at the register, or masking it based on their calm look and nonchalant sitting position. Their expression takes a turn when they meet with his irises, and they speak up when he's finally close enough for them to make their words hushed. "That was my ex-husband, wasn't it?" they ask, smile strained and brows furrowed. "Could we, uh… take our orders-"

"To-go?" he intervenes, chuckling.

Their smile loses some of its tension, and they let out a laugh. "How did you know?"

He sits with them at the chair across from theirs, nudging himself to an angle where he shields them from the ordering counter. "Between you saying he stopped visiting and that he didn't show up when Frisk went missing, I'd say you're not exactly head over heels for 'im anymore."

"Far from it," they reply, sighing. "It's just plain ridiculous for him to be so worked up about this now. He had his time ages ago." They rock their fingers against the table's surface and frown, looking deep in thought. "What did he say, anyway? ...I tried not to look, but I still saw when he got all angry at you."

"It's related to what I want to talk to you about. Though I'm not sure how he got that info so fast."

Their eyes spark and widen, the hand on the table clenching the edge in expectancy. "So he already knows all about it?"

"Dunno if all, but it looks like he's already dug a lil' bit into my past."

A buzz from the human's phone brings a halt to the conversation. He looks to where the sound comes from before taking a look at their expression, clearly vexed by the name of the sender. Their hand trembles and he notices how they have to tighten their grip on the device to prevent its fall.

"Jerry?" he asks.

They nod. "Excuse me for a moment."

Sans nods back and observes as they stand up from their seat and walk off to a corner of the diner. The switch in the human's expression is almost immediate, changing from curiosity to shock the second they click on the message. The phone meets the floor and ends up making a noise far too loud for it to come out unscathed, results of a tiled floor and the device landing screen-first against it. Still, they don't seem to care over that particular matter and stare at the floor with those same, wide eyes, a look that's carried back to him.

"You…"

Their words come off in a hoarse whisper, and they have to scratch their throat to continue with, "Is this true? Y- You gave Frisk a death threat as a warning for… for what, exactly?" Their voice's louder now, surroundings seeming to blur into nothing given how little they care over being heard by those closer around. "They didn't hurt you, so why did you threaten to hurt them?" Their shocked expression changes to anger, a deep glare that refuses to falter even as they take a step closer, ignoring the phone laying on the floor. "And what did he mean when he said your job was to kill humans? What…. What did Asgore order you to do, and how come you're still allowed to run freely -- as you please? How much of this is true, and how much of this isn't?

They take a pause to pick up their phone, another buzz being heard from it. The screen's cracked from end to end, yet they don't seem to mind over that either and tear up when they read the latest message. "Is… Is that why Toriel had to leave out of the blue? Was she expecting something like this to happen to her, too?" The human's voice breaks, though they recover with another scratch of their throat. "Did she also hurt Frisk? How… How am I supposed to even be anywhere near you when you used to be a heartless man who followed ordered regardless of-"

"Please, ca-"

"Don't you dare tell me to calm down."

They huff, regaining some of their composure through it. "You have the next few minutes to explain why the hell your job as a sentry involved killing people regardless of their actions."

"(L/N), please liste-"

"Tell me."

They cross their arms and keep their glare on him. The phone continues to buzz, but they ignore it, all of their attention now being focused on Sans. An excruciatingly long beat of silence passes before he finally relents with a huff. They sit down, and he sits across from them, gaze facing theirs again. "What specifically do ya wanna know about?"

"What your job as a sentry implied. The rest can wait depending on what terms we're left with after this."

"Alright." He tries to smile in hopes of making their anger soften, though it's a vain attempt; a bad one, more specifically, taking into account how much angrier they get. "But could you promise ya won't freak out?"

"I'm afraid I can't. It all depends, really. Being told you used to throw death threats at innocent people doesn't exactly make me trust you any more than what I did a few seconds ago."

"But-"

"Order 44!"

He lets out a breath and proceeds to stand up. "Talk to you inna second? We can go to the food court and find a place there to eat."

"...Sure," they reply, a smile finally managing to return. "And thanks for helping me back there. I don't think I'd be able to tolerate Jerry coming up to me now of all times."

"Anytime," he says, winking. It's then that he realizes what he's done, an action made purely out of custom, though thankfully, they only show shock at having their thanks accepted rather than shrugged off.

Hopefully, his conversation with them wouldn't turn out as bad as he anticipated it to.

------------------------------

The time to confess over his own sins arrives when both the human and himself are finished eating. Only his drink's left resting on the table, theirs already long gone with how quick they downed it after the meal. Had their choice been alcohol, he would've imagined them tipsy, given they barely gave themselves much time to consume it or so much as enjoy its taste and temperature. (Y/N) begins by asking how much of what Jerry had texted was true and over what actions the skeleton took when meeting with Frisk at the Underground.

The first few questions are simple enough and pass as smooth as his choice of drink, up until they ask, "So what exactly are you guilty of? Frisk told me to be careful around you, but in a fun sort of sense. And… And not because of you being dangerous or ever causing them any harm."

He breathes in, feeling obliged to brace himself for what he's about to say.

"I'm… guilty of not helping them out as much as I should've," Sans says, setting his drink aside. He already feels a tightness in his chest, incrementing when he continues with, "And there was one point where I might've come off too strong… Where I quite frankly told them to watch their back around me, and that I'd be there to handle the situation if it ever got outta hand."

"What kind of situation?" (Y/N) asks, a change in tone already present.

"Hurting my kind." He sighs out a deep breath, letting himself find some sort of ease amongst the ache building up in his rib cage. It was too soon to be enemies with the human sitting across from him, and to be frank, he didn't even want to be on negative terms with them, either. He simply wanted to have another friend; another person he could look forward to spending his time with more often. "I... warned them about what would happen if they dared to do anything bad to other people, but in the least humane wording possible." He takes another sip from his drink, feeling his non-existent throat turn sore. "Frankly, and just like Jerry already told you: it's all true. I, well... I threatened Frisk with death, even though they hadn't harmed anyone during their journey down there."

"So it's all true? Even the part about your job being to basically hunt after humans, no matter what?" They stand up from their seat, hands slamming over the table on par with their shout. In contrast to the ire he anticipated from them, he sees the same shock from before in their eyes and an open mouth reveals their disbelief. "I… Y- You... You're not joking, aren't you?!"

Thankfully, they're both sitting at a table too far away for anyone around to take immediate notice of the human's reaction. That allows the monster to breathe out again and reply with, "It's the raw truth, cross my soul," he says, meeting with their eyes. "As a judge and main sentry for the Underground, I was meant to treat everyone equally, no matter their age, race, or any of that stuff. I judged based on actions; on the person's background and intentions. So when it was time for me to meet with a new person, I went all out, no matter the costs or repercussions of my actions, or the feelings I had about what I was about to do." Sans takes a long pause, needing some time to recollect himself. "To be brief, that was the job assigned to me, and one I was meant to fulfill no matter how that would affect my relationship with that new person I crossed paths with."

"Wh- Why?" they blurt, the anger he expected finally showing through. Still, they sit down, avoiding unwanted attention from other people. "Why did Asgore come up with that idea, a- and why did you go along with it? Why… Was there no other option? Or did neither of you two ever bother searching for one?" A wet gaze greets him when he makes eye contact with the human again, conflicting with their scowl and sharp, furrowed gaze. "Are all of you guys like this? H- How many of you are innocent, and how many of you hurt my child? Are Toriel and MK the only ones I can trust? Because if I'm going to follow along with what Frisk's told me so far, th- the only monsters that they've mentioned without any reluctance have been those two. They... They always freeze up every time I ask them about any other monster they made friends with." Their voice begins to shake and a few tears spill from their eyes. "I… I'm sorry if this seems like too much, b- But I need to know, Sans, I… I need to know who hurt them, and what I can do to protect them. I need to be strict, and I- I need to make up for those two months I wasn't able to be there for them."

Sans.

The human has been calling him 'mister Serif' for a good while now.

Out of all the possible ways and times they could've said his actual, first name, and it had to be during a moment of anger and confusion. He tries not to acknowledge just how bitter and dry his name had come out of their mouth and instead focuses on lending out a hand to them, both in a metaphorical and literal sense. He drags the chair a bit closer to them and hovers his body over the table standing between them, placing a hand on the human's shoulder and snapping them out of their spiral.

"(Y/N), please just... Just breathe, and calm down for a moment," he mutters, making them face his gaze, stern and sober. "This's why I wanna tell you everythin' bit by bit. There's a lot more to the story, and I know you wanna be a good parent for Frisk, so please, take a breath and hear me out. I won't ask you to forgive me, but for your time to listen to what I have to say, instead." He almost flinches when their hand touches the one he'd placed over their shoulder, though he combats that feeling by looking away for a quick moment to recollect his thoughts. "We have a whole history explaining why things worked at the Underground the way they did until recently," he continues. "And even though I know that doesn't mean all of our actions are justified, we still had our reasons, just as your kind -- your ancestors -- did for sealing us underground."

They let go of his hand, a subtle action that tells him it's time to let them go. He does just that and sits back down on his chair, taking another sip from the drink on his side of the table to combat the sour taste forming in his tongue. "I know I have absolutely no right in telling you to calm down anymore and that I shouldn't've even said it the first time. But I still want you to listen, so that you can help Frisk establish their new life with the other monsters at the Surface; with all the friends they made at the Underground, but also by knowing what some of those friends did and just who of us you can entrust their safety to." He offers his hand out to them, letting a smile ease out the grim aftertaste of his words. "So, whaddya say? Wanna hear me out? I promise to be honest with you, so long as you can promise to hear me and my kind out, and learn more 'bout our choices in the past."

"I…"

That's the only word he can hear from them as they stare at his hand, a wary glance being directed at it. "Could we hug it out again? I, well... still don't trust shaking your hand after what Frisk told me about you."

Though he hesitates for a second, he gives in with a grin and a nod. "Sure thing," he replies, chuckling. "C'mere, pal."

Sans stands up, and (Y/N) does the same.

They lean down to his height and let their arms sneak around his back, pulling him in for a second hug in just one day; on his first day meeting the human in person and on his first week here at the Surface, to be more exact. That same gentleness from before reaches his soul, enveloping him with a strong sense of safety, serenity, and warmth, despite the circumstances of it all. It was of no doubt that the person hugging him cared greatly for Frisk's happiness, almost just as much as they did for Frisk's safety. That shows through how willing they were to listen to him, how quickly they regained composure, and how welcoming their hug is, almost as if they were offering him a second chance to hear him out -- and just by the feeling of that hug alone.

"Thanks for being patient with me," he mutters, still kept in the hug. "I promise I'll try to provide you with as much information as I can." He lets go and finally stares at them again. "That sounds good to ya? Or are ya bored of me already?"

Tension eases out as the human lets a laugh burst through. "Sounds good," they reply, smiling. "And don't worry. I… I'm not bored of you yet -- Far from it, actually."

[First] | [Previous] | [Next]

------------------------------

And that's it for this week!

I'm still trying to figure out a good publishing schedule, but updates will continue to be weekly on Saturdays as usual, with the exception of double updates. :-)

#sans x reader #undertale x reader #lgbt #lgbt themes #gender neutral reader #male reader #female reader #mother reader #father reader #parent reader #chubby reader #long fic #romcom #adventure #mystery #platonic relationships #slow burn

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annaraebananawriter · 4 years

Text

(Part One) I Want to Forget

Yellow again everybody!!! Guess who’s back? Sorry for the long delay in another oneshot, this year has been a bit stressful recently for everybody. As always, I bring to you some Dream Angst, which is apparently my specialty.

ALSO! I’ll say this here, and then again in the warnings. This oneshot involves Rape, and while it’s not shown explicitly, it is there enough to make a big appearance.

Fandom: Undertale, but specifically Dreamtale

Characters: Nightmare, Dream (Who belong to Joku), Original Character

Warnings: Implied Rape, some self harm, some self deprecation and I think that’s it? Pleas let me know!

Word Count: 2749

(Also, if you want to know the songs Nightmare sings in this, they are Here and Here. Happy reading!)

~oOo~

Dream sighed and swirled the drink around in his hand. The ice clinked against the glass and he propped his head on his arm, sighing. Someone shouted something in the background and he winced as the crowd cheered, the music becoming louder as it built up for a drop.

He was in an AU that he hadn’t learned the name of. Ink hadn’t let him know where they were going when he dragged him through a portal, through the streets and to this bar. He had said something about coming to unwind and have fun, as Dream had apparently been ‘no fun’ recently. Although, it was kind of pointless of that talk coming from someone who didn’t actually care about his job.

Anyways, Ink had left about an hour ago. Dream suspected that he had drunk too much and eventually forgot about the friend he dragged along. It was fine. It had happened before. Usually, Dream would just leave on his own after he noticed that.

He didn’t know why he was staying this time.

He stared at his drink. Maybe it was because he knew that Ink was right. He had been working himself rather hard recently. Nightmare had been attacking AUs left and right and while Dream understood the point of it—to help maintain the balance—he didn’t know why his brother killed people. Hurting people kept the balance enough. Death was pointless.

He sighed. At this rate, he was just going to get himself down. Wasn’t that the opposite of relaxing/winding down? Stifling a bitter laugh at himself, he raised his glass and took a sip. He sighed in satisfaction as the water cooled his throat and cleared his head a bit.

Yes, it was water. He wasn’t too keen on alcohol, no matter how little something contained of it. He had never been. That’s not to say he had never drunk before, though. No, the villagers had made him try some of their mead at one point (even if he was still barely 300 years old). It had been rather bitter, so he never got used to the taste. He turned down any other attempts at trying it.

The stool to the right of him creaked suddenly and he looked up. A male human smiled at him warmly, setting down his own bottle of beer. The human seemed to be a young adult, with wavy blonde hair and some stubble around his mouth. He had green eyes that seemed to sparkle a brighter colour when the light hit them. He wore a simple t-shirt and Dream could guess that the rest of his outfit was simple too.

“Heya,” the human said, “you’re Dream, right?”

Dream blinked. It was true that almost every AU knew of the outcodes and their jobs, though rarely were they ever approached. People usually viewed them as a sort of god, which discouraged them from approaching. Yet, this human seemed to not get the memo.

Realizing that he was being a bit rude by not responding, Dream hurriedly smiled and stuck out a hand. “A-ah, yes! That’s me.”

The human laughed and shook his hand gladly. He had a firm yet gentle grip. “Cool! The name’s Jake.” Their hands slid back to their owners. He fixed Dream with a sort of teasing look as he took a swig of his drink. “So, what’s the Guardian of Positivity doing in a bar all by himself.”

Dream’s smile melted into something more natural. “Well, I was with Ink, but he left me here a while ago.”

Jake sighed, lowering his drink. “Aw man, that sucks! I know what it’s like to be left behind by friends before.” His eyes conveyed so much sincerity that Dream found himself becoming even more relaxed. “I’m sorry that it happened to you.”

Dream shook his head. “It’s fine. It’s, uh…it’s happened before, so I’m used to it.”

Jake frowned further. “Still. No one deserves to be left behind.”

“True.”

They talked for a long time. Dream learned a lot about Jake in this time, though Jake did tend to ramble, realize he was rambling, apologize and then ramble again. Dream didn’t mind. He found it nice that Jake was acting like Dream was just another person, instead of basically a god. Dream, in turn, talked about the other worlds he’s seen and what exactly his job is.

Jake had just been wrapping up explaining why he decided to become a lawyer hen he went to take another swig of his drink and frowned when he realized it was empty. “Darn.” He said, standing up to go get another drink when he paused. “Hey, do you want me to get you a refill, too?”

Dream blinked and looked at his drink. His glass was empty save for some ice. “Oh, uh…It’s fine. I was just having water, anyways.”

Jake smiled. “C’mon.” He tilted his head, looking imploringly at Dream. “I’ll get you some more water?”

Dream hesitated. “…alright.”

Jake beamed, taking his glass. “Great! Be right back.” He turned and walked over to the bar, set the drinks down and waved over a bartender.

Dream laughed softly to himself, looking around. The music had faded a while ago, which he just now noticed. There was a significant decrease in people too. That made Dream pause and wonder how long he had been talking to Jake. Was it long enough that Ink and Blue would’ve noticed? Maybe. But they knew that Dream could take care of himself, so they would probably wait a bit longer yet.

Jake returned at that time, stopping Dream from continuing his thoughts. He smiled and took his water, immediately taking a sip, following by Jake taking a sip of his own drink. They set their drinks down at the same time, sighing in sync. They blinked at each other and giggled.

They resumed talking about anything. It was nice, Dream mused, talking with someone new. He was glad that Jake decided to approach him. Even if they would likely never see each other again, it would be a nice memory to look back on.

(Future Dream looks back on this thought and laughs at how foolish he was.)

Dream was recounting a story of Ink’s antics to him when it happened.

“…so, I had to chase him through various AU’s until I eventually—” The room suddenly began to spin around him and Dream gasped slightly, trying to hold himself upright. His eyes gained a heaviness to them and he struggled to keep them open.

“Dream?” He heard Jake through the haze of his mind. He sounded concerned. Dream focused on the human, who had put a steadying hand on his arm. “Are you alright?”

Dream struggled to speak. “I…I d’know.” He blinked at his own voice. It was slurred. He could’ve sworn that he had been wide awake all day, though, so why was he now, all of a sudden, so sleepy?

He dimly heard Jake swear and get up, bracing Dream against his body. “Okay, uh…maybe it’s just a crash? You did say you had been working pretty hard and sleeping little, so maybe it’s just a crash of not getting enough sleep.”

Dream blinked and felt himself being nudged off of the stool and onto his feet. His knees threatened to buckle beneath him, but Jake’s arm wrapped around his waist, the other held his arm and the human maneuvered them to the door. Someone shouted at them and Jake shouted something back before they left the building.

The world outside was darkening as they walked, though that could just be Dream beginning to pass out. Jake was still talking as they walked and he made out something about taking Dream home to rest. Since Jake couldn’t travel between AU’s, he must mean his house. That was fine. He trusted Jake.

(Stupid, stupid, stupid stupid stupidstupidstupi—)

Dream was helped into the passenger seat of a car and then the world went dark.

~oOo~

Dream woke up on a bed that wasn’t his, his mind muddled. He blinked hard, struggling to keep his eyes open. The room swam around him, even though he could only see black.

He was…confused.

The last thing he remembered was talking with…Jake. Then he had started to get dizzy…or…sleepy, one of the two, maybe even both. Jake had…said something about…taking him home? As Jake couldn’t teleport through AUs and Dream wasn’t at his home, then Jake must’ve meant his home.

…Why?

He supposed it could be out the kindness of Jake’s heart, but something about this situation rubbed him the wrong way. Which was stupid

(He was stupid—)

—Jake had been nothing but nice to him! Why would that all of a sudden change? He was being stupid. Jake was a good guy. He was kind, funny and helpful, if the concern over Dream was anything to go by.

He was overthinking things again.

Everything was fine!

After all—

He…couldn’t move his hands.

Well, he could, but he couldn’t bring them down from where they were…tied to the headboard? He tried to look up at them, squinting through the darkness to see what was holding him. He couldn’t see anything, no matter how hard he tried, but it felt like…rope.

He settled back down and tried to breathe calmly through the sudden tightness of his chest.

Okay. Okay…

This was…not…fine, exactly, but there had to be a reason for this!

Dream refused to believe anything else.

The door—which was apparently across from him—opened, letting light into the room for a split second before it was closed again. There was a faint click. The door was…locked. This did not help to subdue the tightness in his chest. Someone walked around the room, saying nothing as they made their way towards Dream.

The tightness in his chest grew.

Dream swallowed.

This was…

This was still…fine.

(It wasn’t, not really—)

There…there still had to be a reason for this.

(There wasn’t—)

The bed dipped beside Dream and he felt someone crawl above him. There wasn’t any more movement for a second. Then the person buried their head against Dream’s neck, a sound almost like a purr coming from them.

Dream’s breath caught in his throat.

Something itched at the back of his mind.

When the door was first opened, and light illuminated the room, it also illuminated the person. It was a short window of time, yes, but it had been enough for Dream to recognize the blond-haired individual. He hadn’t asked then because he had been hoping for this to not be real, that it was all just a dream. It wasn’t.

After all, dreams don’t have someone touching you without your consent.

That was more like a…nightmare.

However, it wasn’t just a figment of his imagination.

Dream wasn’t asleep.

That…that was a fact.

“…Jake…?” Dream managed to whisper; a small bit of hope left remaining that he was wrong. Though…he knew it was useless. The hand that had begun travelling across his chest paused and hovered in place for a minute.

Which was all the answer he needed.

Tears welled up in Dream’s eyes, spilling over silently as the hand of someone he was just beginning to call a friend began up again, travelling down and under his shirt, brimming with bad intentions.

~oOo~

Dream woke back up again on the same bed, his hands untied and light coming from the window. He had a split second of confusion, of relieve from not remembering what happened, before it all came back.

Tears welling up and spilling over—

A hand crawling over him, under his shirt—

Stripping him of his clothes—

Travelling down, down, down, down—

His lower half hurt.

Dream laid there for a minute, the tightness coming back in his chest. His hands began to tremble. Ghost touches travelled over him and his breath caught, leaving him gasping for air. A whine started in the back of his throat.

He had to leave.

He had to get out, get home.

Get somewhere safe.

Dream sat up quickly, trembling spreading to the rest of his body. He ignored the stains to the best of his abilities, his lower half throbbing in remembrance. He forced himself to breathe fully. Pushing himself to swing his legs off the bed, he stood up, ignoring the shakiness of his legs that threatened to make him collapse.

His breath caught again as the soreness appeared again.

He…he couldn’t do this now.

He had to get out.

He would have time to panic later.

He breathed in. Out.

In. Out.

Dream’s gaze was drawn to the dresser, where his clothes rested. They were neatly folded and seemed to be washed. Beside the clothing was a tray of food, along with a glass of water. Just seeing the food made his stomach churn and the water brought unbidden memories of trickery and laughter.

Tears welled up again and—

Breathe. In. Out.

In. Out.

I-In…Out…

Dream shook his head roughly, digging his fingers in his arm until his breathing settled again.

He gathered his clothes and got dressed quickly.

In…Out…

He ignored the pain when he put his pants back on.

…I-In?...

His hands trembled worse as he put his shirt back on and clasped his cape over it.

…O…u-ut…I-I…n…

A sob ripped its way out of his mouth and Dream broke.

He collapsed to the ground, crying and whining, breathing sped up, hand pressed against his mouth to try and quiet himself. He curled up against the dresser, his crown tipping off the edge onto the floor in front of him. Dream cringed at the clang of the metal with the floor, the sound too loud for him right now.

He ducked his head down until his forehead pressed against his knees. The hand that wasn’t on his mouth gripped onto his cape tightly, as if if he held on tight enough, all of this would go away.

He sobbed again, another whine making its way out and—

Humming.

No, not humming, singing.

Someone was…singing.

At first, Dream had the overwhelming fear that it was Jake. Jake, who did something so unthinkable, had come back singing some stupid song. Though, the voice was too deep to be Jake's. He would also like to think that it was too nice to be Jake’s, as well.

So…it wasn’t Jake. That made him relax slightly.

His hearing levelled out, the ringing that had appeared calming down and becoming background noise, leaving the words clear.

“…he took the heart of a little boy, and made it grow up too fast…”

Dream relaxed further.

This voice was…familiar.

“Now words like innocence, don’t mean a thing.”

It reminded him of waking up to someone’s arms wrapped around him, comforting words being whispered as he recovered from the horrible images his mind made up as he slept. It reminded him of running around and tagging someone, only to be tackled and tickled until he could barely breathe anymore.

“You hear the music play, but you can’t sing.”

It reminded him…of Nightmare.

“Those pictures in your mind keep you locked up inside your past…”

The voice paused. He switched to a different song.

“I know it’s all you’ve got to just be strong…”

Dream opened his eyes, though he didn’t remember closing them.

“And it’s a fight just to keep it together…together…”

His companion switched back to humming.

Dream took that as his queue to look up.

Ah…so that’s why it was…that made sense.

Nightmare sat in front of him, back leaned up against the dresser. His legs were stretched in front of him. Dream’s crown was held in his hands, being swung around and around. It stilled as Dream watched.

Dream drew his eyes up to meet Nightmare’s one piercing eye.

They stared at each other for a minute.

Then, Dream saw it. That one look in Nightmare’s eye, one that reflected his aura. It was…a knowing look. Not a pitying one, not a sympathetic one, just a knowing one.

Which was the only one Dream needed.

Tears welled up in his eyes again.

Nightmare started singing again.

“Just take…one step…closer…put one foot in front of the other…”

Nightmare set Dream’s crown down beside him and held out his arms.

“…You’ll get…through this…just follow the light in the darkness…”

Dream sobbed again and threw himself into his brother’s arms, ignoring the prickling sensation that told him the touch wasn’t okay.

“You’re gonna be okay.”

#my writing #my fanfiction #oneshot #undertale #dreamtale #dream sans #nightmare sans #original character #tw r*pe #tw rape #tw self harm #tw self deprecation #rape

55 notes · View notes

tails-and-scales-archive · 5 years

Link

I want to heavily thank both @preshbabyblue and @dotchi13 for betaing the story.

The quaint home looked peaceful from the outside, tended gardens brought in fresh produce and an odd layer of silver seemed to have been dusted over the crops. This home was one that the youngest Kitsune knew well, it was where she had stolen Dusk and Dawn’s egg from back when she only had one tail. It was only once you looked into the window, or opened the door, that you would see something was desperately wrong. The smell of death permeated throughout the house, the floor covered in a thick layer of grey, ashen dust. Small piles of said dust could be seen tucked into corners or under furniture- where bitties that had once been created of said dust had gone to hide themselves before facing their untimely deaths.

If wandering eyes continued to peer through the windows of the home, they could spot a line of cages shoved against walls in the bedroom. A humanoid figure enters and grabs one of the cages to take into the kitchen where they roughly drop the cage before pulling the door open. A Lumen and Nocturne were curled up in the back of the cage, the darker bitty protectively coiled around his trembling twin with his fangs bared. Perhaps this time they could get the proper response from the pair that they were looking for, and it would result in the Lumen being roughly pulled away from the Nocturnes’ protective coil. The Lumen would be the key to getting what the figure wanted, they got the strongest reaction from the Nocturnes if the twin was in danger.

Before the Lumen was grabbed, the mysterious figure had slipped on a pair of thick gardening gloves. With their hands protected they could grab the Lumen and pull him from the other bitties’ grasp. In the process, they had to force the Nocturne down onto the rough bottom of the cage. The small creature’s body connects with it violently, small fractures cracking up along their little rib cage, followed by his head which connected with the metal grounding. The Lumen is pulled from the cage, held tightly in the figure’s other hand, the smaller lamia trying to reach out, as he let out cries of distress, struggling in the figure’s grip. The Lumen was very concerned for the damage his brother just took as the Nocturne tried to bite the glove, trying to sink his fangs just a little deeper- to break through the thick fabric and get his venom into this cruel creature’s blood. The figure lifts the Nocturne with a scowl, pulling him from the cage momentarily to shake him. The Nocturne’s body and head jerk back and forth abruptly before he is tossed cruelly back into the cage, leaving him dazed as the cage door is shut and locked.

Their owner walked out into the dining room with the poor Lumen, who was then subject to a tortuous cruelty that it seemed the bitties were forced to deal with at this home on a constant basis. The pained, distressed cry of the Lumen would echo through the house, and soon enough the owner would come back with a smug look on his face and a fist full of something that was then tossed at the Nocturne. The figure’s hand had been full of the same ashen, grey dust that littered the home. The Nocturne, almost instantly, breaks down. He moves quickly to gather up the falling dust as fat, violet tears slip down his cheeks. It was clear that he thought the dust thrown at him was all that remained of his sibling, thinking that their owner had killed him.

The owner would stand there, a bored expression on their face as they watched how the Nocturne grieved before pulling the cage door open again. The Nocturne reared back with an angry hiss, the negativity he felt from his grief and anger starting to visibly show as dark venom began to ooze slowly from his fangs and mouth. The hiss shifts, deepening into a low growl as the viscous black slowly started to cover his body, tail twitching as he waited for the owner to come closer. The venom gathered the dust, keeping it stuck to his bone and body, giving the black a near shimmer effect while the owner’s hand came closer to attempt to pick up the now feral Nocturne. A low snarl came from the lamia before he lunged, fangs sinking into their arm and through the long sleeves that they wore, quick to then flee back to the ground and under the sofa as the owner- or well, former owner, crumpled to the ground from the venom.

Slithering out from under the sofa once the struggles gasps for air and the twitching faded from their owner, the Nocturne jerked his attention to the dining room at a faint whimper. The tentacles that had burst from his back writhed in restrained anger, that whimper sounded familiar, and so the lamia slowly started to move towards the noise, fangs bared as he rounded the corner with his tentacles poised to strike. Only for him to see the familiar golden hue of magic marred with silvery dust streaking ivory bone, weak whimpers coming from his twin.. Golden ‘blood’ oozed from under the slim hands, the feral bolting forward to coil around his wounded twin. The Lumen tensed in fear, blinded from the pain he was in, crying out before the Nocturne began to soothe him.

Black clung to pristine bone, the sight of the wound marring the left eye socket and the left fang being missing from the Lumen making the feral snarl in anger back in the direction of their ‘owner’ causing a soft whimper coming from the wounded one. The little Lumen looked confused at first from being treated with such care before making concerned sounds after realizing just who had found him, the Nocturne gently shushing his brother, gently pulling his hands away to see just how bad the wound was. The deep gouge into the bone made his venom covered hands gently squeeze the smaller’s, the older twin was clearly upset at the injury, but he instead pulled the younger into a tight hug. After looking around and realizing there wasn’t much they could get to with their owner now dead, he would use his tentacles to gently pick up his wounded brother to head out in search of food. They needed to keep up the smaller’s magic, especially with that wound, granted there was an inky black trail that followed as he slithered around. Having managed to just pull the door open, they slid out and headed into the forest.

The thick brush offered plenty of cover, keeping them safe from any predators, but the Nocturne remained on high alert. There would be nothing to keep him from protecting his brother this time, he would dust before anyone hurt the little Lumen again. What was not expected was to run near face first into a pale blue paw, the venom clinging to the fur as he pulled back. A protective hiss left the lamia’s throat, his twin clutched closer to his chest. The sight of the feral Nocturne took the fox by surprise, head lowering down with a concerned sound leaving her chest, having not expected to run into a lamia this far from the shop. It had her worried, but with the poor thing on such high alert, he lashed out with his tentacles, one catching over her left eye, the other leaving a decent wound on her right cheek. Shifting back, the fox turned woman, a kitsune, would be quick to murmur comfort to the pair, even with the black venom clinging to her skin, the venom slow to move towards the wound.

Off came her overshirt, quickly, yet carefully wrapping the pair in the fabric before bolting for the shop she ran with her twin. Layl blipped to her shoulder, having been dozing in her tails, the sight of the blood and the sheer anxiety and fear pouring off of her making him start to draw in the negativity in to try and calm her to think more rationally.Dodging the different branches and trees, she would glance to Layl before looking back to the bundle in her arms.

“When we get to the shop, I need you to get them into the medbay. We have a feral case on our hands. I’ll get Dusk to Nat and Dawn, I know we’ll need Fajar and Laminae as well for this.” The kitsune answered his questioning gaze, a nod following.

“Got it, but keeping this secret at first from the others though? Is that smart?” Layl would speak up, sliding down her shoulder to rest a hand lightly on the bundle, his cyan eye looking to Saiyuri with concern. “Especially with those wounds-”

“Just until we get him stabilized, and the Lumen with him, it’ll throw Dusk into a fit if he sees them like this.” She would respond, a light hiss of pain coming from her at the feel of one of Layl’s tentacles wiping away the venom from the wound on her cheek.

The duo would arrive back at the shop rather quickly, Torque already rising up from his spot near the Impurus bitties as Layl would grab the bundle and teleport into the medbay, the large Chain pulling the shop door open in confusion. Her hand would lift, halting the questions she could feel through the SOUL bond, hurrying into the shop with Torque following behind her. Boisenberry, the full sized Mamba- reared up at the scent of blood, moving to Saiyuri’s side as well while she scurried over to the Umbra and Elisium area. Fajar, Laminae and Dusk went to greet the younger sister before being quickly scooped up and whisked to the nursery door.

“ Nat I need you to help!” Saiyuri called out, fingers caressing over Dusk’s tail before she pulled open the nursery door and in went the older Nocturne into Natsume’s arms. The door was quickly shut after, the pair only seeing the blood on the other kitsune, and her attention would go to Boisenberry next.

“Boisenberry, I need your help, make sure Dusk and Nat can’t get out just yet. It’s safer in the nursery in case this Nocturne turns out more violent than expected.”

She would squeeze his hand in thanks, Laminae having immediately moved to start checking over the wound above her left eye, the little bits of healing magic helping staunch what bleeding had occurred down her face, making it scab up. Rushing to the medbay with Torque, she would nod to the connecting door inside that led to the nursery, Torque moving quickly to settle before it. Natsume has Dusk and Dawn in her arms, looking in over the half door at her sister as Layl moved Laminae and Fajar to safety before the shirt was carefully removed. Another lash of tentacles from the Feral, this time mostly dodged other that a glancing blow to her arm, and the Nightmare would quickly move to restrain the violent Nocturne so as to prevent other injuries.

Carefully pulling the wounded Lumen from the Feral’s coils, she would wipe away the venom, the feel of his anxious tremors making her heart ache. A soft green glow would encompass her hands, easing the pain the poor lamia was dealing with, looking to her Mumcher and Dream. “Laminae, do you mind looking over him, the wound on his skull worries me… Fajar, I’ll need you to help Layl and I with the Feral.”

Laminae looked like she was going to protest, her bright glowing green eyes looking distraught to the wounded kitsune she would give her life for, but knew her beloved Owner well enough that there would be no argument. “Of course, and after we’re getting you patched up!” Laminae insisted, hurrying to get an herb mix that would ease the pain from the blinding and lost fang. Fajar quickly moved to the Feral’s other side, looking determined but happy to help. “Just tell me how to help!”

“Thank you all…” There was a hint of relief in the kitsune’s voice, a grateful smile on her face before she began talking Fajar through helping her clear the venom away so she could get a good look over the lamia, Layl getting rather continuous praise as well for helping with restraining the more aggressive bitty; His tentacles and arms helping lock the feral in place, knowing going slack for even a moment could possibly lead to Sai or Fajar being injured, in Sai’s case, again.

Laminae, now fully focused on helping the injured Lumen, would eventually hop down into Sai’s tails before hurrying off to get one of the nests that was in one of the cupboards for any patients that would need to stay for longer than a few hours. Torque would use his magic to lift both the Mumcher and the nest up to rest on the counter, Laminae then coaxing the Lumen into the plush warmth. Despite it taking a few minutes, she would happily help him settle, a hand gently petting over the top of his skull, careful of the bandaging that covered the wounded eye, gauze in place of the missing fang for now.

She’d soon draw over to Saiyuri as well, a soft coo of affection coming from the kitsune as she pressed a soft kiss to her Mumcher’s head. Praise flowed until they managed to not only get the feral bandaged up and partially healed from the damaged ribs, but also subdued enough to feed him one of the calming lavender and chamomile gummies, soon moving him to the nest with his twin. A half hearted hiss followed after when she shifted the nest, the pair of lamia coiled up together and finally dozing.

Cleaning the venom from her hands, she would then gather up her Nightmare, Dream, and Mumcher, hugging them close as she murmured praise and thanks to the three of them, the Mumcher nuzzling to her and soaking up the praise while the Dream wiggled, prideful of all of them and the Nightmare cyan in the face. Torque would shift once more as she was praising the three, dampening a cloth to wipe away the blood that streaked her face and the venom that still clung to her skin. Pressing a kiss to Torque’s head, she would nod as he went to get Boisenberry, both prepared for the ‘hunt’ to see if there were any other bitties to rescue.

Looking to the half door that separated the medbay and nursery, Saiyuri would finally approach, an apologetic look on her face. “I am sorry about that, Nat, Dusk… I didn’t want to risk their lives, didn’t know how long they’d been in that state.”

Dusk looked quite put off, albeit understanding, his arms and tail protectively coiled around his smaller twin who looked understandably terrified. Natsume would reach out, a gentle hand resting on Saiyuri’s arm giving a soft squeeze. Sai reached out to try and pet Dusk in apology, which led to a nip to her fingers, not hard enough to draw blood, but enough to sting and show his displeasure. A light flinch followed the nip, an apologetic sound coming from her throat before Layl teleported to her shoulder with Fajar, the Kitsune looking to the lone Mumcher still cuddling to her.

“Laminae, do you mind keeping watch over our new patients while we’re gone? It’s not normal for a feral to be in the wild like that, and those injuries seemed more than just from a bitty fight… something feels off about this whole thing.” “Of course, I’ll be happy to keep an eye! But you make sure to stay safe, and come back as soon as possible.” Laminae smiled, nodding at the question, yet her tone and eyes showed her concern for the kitsune.

“I’ll hurry back as soon as possible, Dusk, you stay with Nat and Dawn for now, alright? I really am sorry about earlier.” Scarlet eyes went from the Mumcher before going to the older kitsune and the twin lamia in her arms as she spoke, Dusk looking to his twin before back to the one whom had helped raise him and giving a sharp nod.

“Be safe, Sai, and when you get back, you’re getting some of the antivenom, the venom was too close to your wounds for comfort.” Natsume spoke up, an understanding smile on her face before watching how her younger twin shifted down into her Fox form and took off with Layl and Fajar burrowed into her fur. Torque and Boisenberry kept pace with their concerned owner, the pair watching for anything troubling before spying the venom trail.

“This way.” Torque called as he shifted to follow the trail, Boisen hissing in acknowledgement, bumping Sai to the right direction.

The two large lamia were the first on the scene, the scent of a house she hadn’t been around in over 400 years making the kitsune’s steps slow. Wide eyes glanced around, the bitties on her back tightening their grip on her fur, a growl coming from Layl who wrapped a tentacle around Fajar protectively. Having finally been around monsters for so long now, and dealing with a fair few injuries, Saiyuri now recognized what gave this house it’s pretty silver coating, the dust of killed monsters, or more correctly, of monster bitties.

Torque took the initiative, breaking the door in fully from where it was cracked, an orb of lavender fox fire following to illuminate their surroundings. Boisenberry was quick to follow, a cry of outrage following as he came across the former resident. Even in death, dust still cling stubbornly to their skin, violet eyes narrowing before glancing around and throwing open doors.

“There’s a lot of negative energy here…” Layl muttered, Fajar glancing around warily as Saiyuri set foot in the house, her paws and tails picking up the clinging dust.

“Something isn’t right… I feel what feels like attempts of positive energy, but whatever is giving it off is terrified and muting it.” Fajar added, Boisenberry’s call making everyone look to the hall.

“Over here! They had babies caged!” Boisenberry would linger in the bedroom doorway, a Nocturne and Lumen pair in his arms, both of the small lamia clearly terrified and clinging to the larger lamia.

Torque and Saiyuri would hurry, dust being disturbed into the air, and giving the house an ethereal sort of feeling, before they would rescue another five pairs of Nocturnes and Lumen. Leaving the house finally, the two large lamia each had a pair in their arms, Boisen holding the youngest pair, Torque holding the oldest, and on Saiyuri’s back with Layl and Fajar comforting them and soothing fears with their magics were the last three pairs. It was a slow trek to the shop this time, not wanting to disturb the traumatized and fearful bitties. And once they all arrived, there would be an array of mixed reactions at the sight of the somber group and the newest members of the shop.

Torque and Boisenberry are from @vex-bittys‘ shop, and Layl, Fajar, and Laminae are from Dotchi’s shop. Definitely pop in and visit, they’re both super sweet and are a huge inspiration for my having created this shop with Nat!

#sai speaks #sai creates #nightmare bitty #dream bitty #Bittybones #Dreamtale bitties

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hattale-au · 5 years

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HatTale: Chapter 2

[Also on AO3!]

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

“Uh… you might want to be careful in the next room… there might be someone in there you don’t want to meet.”

The young girl stared at her spectral friend. “What do you mean by that?”

“ Well, there’s this… flower- ”

“A flower?” she snorted. “you’re scared of a flower? ”

They made a noise somewhere between a grumble and a growl, “ I didn’t say that! It’s just... you’ll see if we meet him-! ”

Unnoticed by the duo, they had walked into a small and easy to miss ring of magic. Said magic sprung up around them, leaving them stuck.

The young girl stared as a small purple flower jolted up from the ground. That was… definitely strange. It was even stranger when the flower began to talk. Or, well, yell.

" FOOOOOOOL! YOU'VE DONE IT! YOU'VE TOTALLY SCREWED YOURSELF! NO HUMAN ENTERS THE UNDERGROUND AND LEAVES IN ONE PIECE! YOU- wait. Ghost boy? What the hell do you want?"

“ I could be asking the same of you, bastard flower, ” he shot back.

The girl leaned into the ghost’s ear and whispered, “is this the flower?”

He gave a small nod.

“I can see why you don’t like him.”

That earned a small snort.

“Wow, ruuuude. I’m right here, you two.” The flower rolled his eyes.

“And?” the girl dared to ask.

“ Annnnnnd ... ” the flower titled back, then leaned forward with a wicked grin on his face, “ that means I’ll just have to make you suffer even more later!”

The girl squeaked as she held up her stick, “w-what?”

There was a sudden odd sensation on the girl’s shoulders, like something was supposed to be there, and it was there, yet she couldn’t actually feel the pressure of anything there. A quick glance down and then up again revealed that Mask had grabbed her shoulders and had floated slightly above her. The protective stance would have been a heck of a lot more comforting had she not suspected that he wouldn’t be able to do jack if a fight broke out.

“ You wouldn’t dare . ” he hissed.

"Is that a challenge, ghost boy?" The flower sneered. " Not like you can actually do anything to stop me, considering you don't even have a physical form!" He started laughing. Mask tightened his non-existent grip on the girl’s shoulders.

The flower turned to face the young girl. “Listen, I’m not going to beat around the bush. As I said, you’re screwed. No human makes it out of here alive. ” He shot a quick glance behind her at Mask. “ So, I’m gonna offer you a deal. I’m in need of a soul. A human soul. And, wouldn’t you know it, you have just that!

“So, I get your soul, and you get a ( relatively) painless death, how does that sound?”

“ Why would she even consider-?! ”

The girl stopped him, “hold on, I’m thinking.”

“ What?! ” he gasped, “ how could you- ”

“SHHHHHH!!!” she shushed him way angrier this time. She glanced up at him, and her expression was a calculating, yet pleading one. I’m trying to stall until you can think of something! Don’t mess this up! It shouted. He tightened his grip for just a moment, then loosened it.

It was one long minute that the girl took to finally speak up again, “I’ve decided.”

“And?”

“It’s a hot no.”

The flower looked stunned, then he started chuckling, “C’mon now kiddo, don’t make this harder than it needs to be! Like I said, the Underground is just filled with monsters out for your soul. ” his grin froze, and it no longer looked cheerful, it looked menacing, “ I’m the only one who’s gonna offer you a nice, quick, pleasant death. So c’mon, just hand it over. ”

She could sense Mask’s growing unease, “ he’s lying, ” he whispered, “ he likes to… mess with his victims before killing them. ”

The girl shivered, then turned her attention back to the flower.

“Still no, t-thanks.” she said while shaking her head.

“I don’t think I’ve made myself clear enough, ” he growled, “ your opinion doesn’t matter here. Hand it over, or I’ll take it from your shredded body!”

The magic of the barrier wavered with his anger. One bit got a little too close for comfort. By the way Mask flinched, the girl guessed that she probably shouldn’t touch it.

She took a step forward and then leaned down right into the asshat-flower’s face.

“For the l-last time, no. ”

The flower growled. If looks could kill, the girl and the ghost would be nothing but a pile of dust. “Well then, too bad for you! ” the flower spat, “ I gave you so many chances to redeem the situation, and you refused !”

His scowl turned into a sneer, “So much for a painless death then!” The girl yelped as thorny vines sprung up from the ground and twisted around her. Mask took his hands off of her shoulders, then tried desperately to pull the vines off of her. It was useless, his fingers just phased through, but the part of her mind that wasn’t screaming in panic appreciated the sentiment.

So this is how I die? She thought with a brief moment of focus, stabbed through by these magic vines, controlled by a maniacal flower who’s laughing his nonexistent ass off at my suffering, with a weird ghost by my side who’s freaking the frack out?

A glowing red heart with swirls of purple appeared above her chest. The vines lifted her closer to the grinning flower. He opened his glowing yellow maw and stretched up so he could reach it. As a fang brushed the heart, she felt a stinging shock throughout her whole body.

In the moment before the flower bit down and this life came to an end, the girl had one last thought.

Didn't think this was how it would go.

And then all was darkness.

A/N: Whoop whoop, this was a fun one to write! >:3c - Novi

Glad to see at least someone stuck around for chapter 2, hope you stick around for the more to come! - Twyst

well well look who got to the end? ;)) hope ya had fun reading it! - Lovely

#a hat in time #undertale #au #hattale #fanfic #hat kid #moon jumper #the prince #the snatcher #crossover #cross posted on ao3 #story

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proxylynn · 5 years

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Lynchtale: File Name Game of Death #1

Chapter 1: Death is Not an Escape

WARNING: THIS IS A MATURE STORY THAT WILL HAVE BLOOD, GORE, PSYCHOLOGICAL SURVIVAL HORROR, HEAVY CURSING, AND LIKELY SEXUAL THEMES/BONING. I DO NOT OWN UNDERTALE, THAT BELONGS TO LORD TOBY FOX. I DO NOT OWN DEAD BY DAYLIGHT, THAT BELONGS TO BEHAVIOUR DIGITAL INC.. I DON'T OWN THE AU'S THAT SOME OF THE CHARACTERS COME FROM, THEY BELONG TO THEIR RESPECTIVE CREATORS. I DON'T OWN THE IDEA FOR LYNCHTALE, THAT BELONGS TO PUNNYSIDEUP (AKA. SANSFULPUNS). WHAT I DO OWN IS MY SELF-INSERT OC ANOMALY LYNSIE AND THE LOVE OF FAN PARODY. IF YOU'RE STILL READING THIS, THEN CONGRATULATIONS ON EITHER BEING ONE WITH STRONG DETERMINATION OR A ENDLESS WILL TO OVERCOME THE CHALLENGE OF STOMACHING WHAT I HAVE IN MIND. EITHER WAY, IF YOU LIKE THIS AND/OR MY OTHER CONTENT, SIT BACK AND ENJOY THE ETERNAL PUNISHMENT. HAVE FUN SINNERS. ^_^

Life can be a little unfair at times and very lonely. So seemed to be the case with a nutty woman named Lynsie. Her life was fairly typical, uneventful as most would say. Growing up poor? Check. Middle child issues? Check. Parents divorcing due to reasons they couldn't explain to a child but as an adult were simple/retarded in hindsight? Check. No friends because all the world is a bunch of scummy assholes so why even bother? Check again. That is probably what someone would say if you could find anyone that knew her. She kept to herself and that was her biggest flaw. Though to her credit, there wasn't a time when she needed anyone. If a problem came to her, she'd think up a way overcome it, whether it was the right way was up to interpretation. Being alone made her mind work in ways normal people didn't understand. This was only an issue when in social situations as, used to only fending for herself, she was not a team player. Her antisocial tendencies only pushed others away more, leading her to delve deeper inward and eventually crushing her under the weight of loneliness/depression. This would get her to seek ways to fill the void in her soul where companionship had shriveled to death, and that thing was getting lost. Now that isn't some cute clever thing. She would literally go out into God only knows where, stay there, and then only when the need to return home came would she find her way back with nothing more than knowledge/skill. This behavior was concerning at first. I mean, wouldn't you be worried too if a family member vanishes for days on end? Even when she left blatant clues and information behind, her family would still go nuts till she came home. She was never gone for more than a few days to a week. Something about being away in nature, places with no humans to remind her of the emptiness inside that others were able to avoid with ease, just brought a sense of peace to her wary soul. She could forget all the worries, cares, and pain even if only for a little while. Though perhaps this was one escape too many for her. For this time...she wouldn't be coming back.

Cold. Dread. Smoke. Something...unsettling. These odd senses start to come to me as I stir from the blackness of unconsciousness. There's an eerie grip on my heart that slowly crawls over my skin as it fades yet lingers while my eyes strain to open. I can hear muffled voices, some male and some female. But there is one more that I can't identify. This soft guttural groan of a voice that whispers in my skull like a fleeting memory. I swear it says something half-way between language and pure terror. He's dead? Something like that. Maybe? A blur moves into my line of sight, what I can only guess is a hand waving in my face. Recalling that I was alone in the middle of the woods only moments ago, I understandably slightly overreact and end up grabbing this blur's arm before punching their gut as hard as I can in this fogy state. The blur falls over and I see more move in to help the downed one. My dull senses try to process everything around me as definition resets sluggishly, such as making out a bonfire and the chill of the wind rustling the trees around this unfamiliar campsite. Suddenly I'm grabbed from behind, arms looping in my own to lock them behind my head, restraining me for their safety. I snarl, making the one holding me fidget in concerned confusion. My senses begin to get better enough as one brave more human-shaped blur moves to stand in front of me. It looks timid but they are at least trying.

"H-Hey...just calm down. We're not here to hurt you."

My snarling increases as I bare my teeth threateningly at this wimp of a man, judging by the voice.

"Please?"

"*annoyed groan* Let me give it a shot."

Another figure approaches and slaps me across the face.

"Hey, bitch, you're outnumbered. If we wanted to fuck with you we would've done it by now. So get your panties out of a bunch and stop being a huge cunt."

This woman pisses me off.

"I'm going to rip your throat out with my teeth!"

"I'd like to see you try!"

"Hey!"

Another woman, based on voice, comes over and shines a flashlight in my eyes, making me hiss in harsher blindness.

"You need to settle down. We aren't your enemies. And you...Your attitude isn't helping."

"*scoff* Whatever."

Their bickering allows the spots in my sight to clear and now I'm back to clarity. The pissy one was right, they do outnumber me. There are seventeen of them, ten guys and seven girls. Another thing I notice is the area. I have no clue where this place is, but it's not where I was before. This area of the woods seems to have no day or night, just a perpetual intolerable gloom in the form of a miasma that blankets the woods yet doesn't touch the campfire zone. What the fuck is this? My visible confusion makes the man holding me let go.

"I know, this is very weird. But we'll explain it as best we can. Just promise not to hit anyone, okay?"

I have no real choice here. I'm in an unknown location with random unknown people. Any explanation would do me wonders as the moment they ask if I remember how I got here I draw a complete blank. Once gathered around the fire they proceed to inform me that this is not Earth anymore, but a fake realm made by something dubbed the Entity. The Entity is a nameless being that lives in the space between our world and our imagination, the kind of place only revealed in dreams. To obtain its source of sustenance, The Entity reaches out into the hearts of susceptible victims and corrupts them into performing hideous acts of violence, because the only way for it to manifest itself in the real world is through an act of violence so extreme, that it results in fatalities. Once this event has taken place, The Entity has a handhold into our world, being able to pull people through this weak spot into its nightmarish construct, the Realms of The Entity. The first victims are the corrupted ones, those pushed to do the deeds that summoned this ancient evil in the first place...the Killers. Prey for The Entity comes in the form of uncorrupted victims...the Survivors. Normal people who stumble into these corrupted areas and are pulled through by The Entity with no memory of how it happened. Once they awaken by The Campfire in the nightmare, there is no escape for them anymore. The Entity builds a reflection of the real world in its construct to confuse the Survivors. Unable though to understand the true nature of the world it touches, it tries to replicate it as best it can, although it never quite gets it right. As a result, the world is an ever-changing nightmarish fusion of familiar and strange elements as The Entity makes up what it cannot comprehend. In its Realm, The Entity is everything that one sees except for the Killers and Survivors, meaning it is part of what it creates. In this bizarre world, there are several familiar parts. The areas and their Realms are based on the world it infects and there are strange mechanical Generators that the Survivors can power up to open two Exit Gates or a hatch that will open when only one remains. If they succeed they will escape, although only back to The Campfire that they started from. The Entity feeds on strong emotions, for example, the Killer's rage, the Survivors' desperation, hope, or even affection towards other Survivors. Sort of like an Emotion Vampire. The easiest way for it to procure those strong emotions is through the never-ending trials, invoking hope in Survivors towards an escape from the nightmarish construct. The actual process of feeding itself comes in the form of the sacrifices. It is through that bizarre ritual that The Entity can extract the nourishment it needs to increase its power and sustain itself. With each passing death, a little of the Survivor's soul is lost. Eventually, as all hope evaporates, the Survivor becomes less and less useful to the Entity, slowly devolving into a cold and emotionless shell. These lost Survivors, whose hope has long since left them, are eventually thrown into what is known as "The Void", a limbo full of such empty shells. A weird thing is that once a year, The Entity undergoes a purge, which infests it with blight. The blight manifests itself in the form of cankers spawning throughout the Realms, which bloom into pustules from which a mysterious nectar can be harvested. Escaping from the grounds always takes the survivors back to the campfire, and offerings can be created to be burnt at it and appeal for the Entity's favor. Since the Entity feeds off the hope of the survivors to escape, it helps them just as much as the killers, acting as an impartial observer of the hunt, stepping in only to claim those hung on its hooks.

Needless to say, I find this a bit much and call bullshit. I attempt to leave them by finding my way back into the woods to a more familiar place. They warn me not to do this. That to leave the fire means to put yourself in great danger, possibly even running into one of the killers that like to taunt and freak out the survivors. Again, I claim this as a massive steaming load and enter the foggy woods.

This does not end well.

I tried to march my way out of these forsaken woods to no avail. Aside from the fog being super thick and nearly impossible to see in, but the sounds are disorientating as hell. From the echoing caws of crows to indescribable growls, I regretted this choice quickly. Then I saw something I can't explain. Something was stalking in the darkness, a being in a human form, even though "human" is an exaggeration. No, this thing was a monster. A shadow of its former self, a horrid shadow. I just manage to escape by dropping to the ground and creepy crawling back following my footprint impressions. Back at camp, I am more willing to believe them and their odd information that they themselves got from a journal left by a man named Benedict Baker whom they've never seen. Yeah...They really make it hard to believe shit is real with things like that. They swear the guy is alive out there somewhere even though they told me the guy's been in this world since 1956 and I'm from 2019. They tell me that means nothing as the Entity can rip anyone from all across time which sounds like a lot of convenient bullshit. But what the fuck do I know? I'm no interdimensional god expert. I don't know of its powers.

Lame exposition aside, I introduce myself to the group and they do the same back. The timid mad from before is Dwight Fairfield, a nervous leader and possessing a purple soul. Dwight was geeky and scrawny through high school. He always wanted to be one of the cool kids, but somehow never had the charisma. He tried out for the football team but was cut, the basketball team didn't even take a look, and his grades were distinctly below average. One weekend, on a team-building exercise from his dead-end job, Dwight's boss led them deep into the woods before breaking out his family recipe moonshine. Dwight remembered taking the first sip before waking up late the next morning all alone. During the night, the others had abandoned him. Once again, the laughing stock of the community Dwight tried to hike his way out of the woods. That was the last anyone ever heard of Dwight Fairfield. Dwight isn't the typical guy you think of when someone says "Survivor". He lacks that certain pizzazz and without his glasses, he's more or less blind. But as the sun sets and the woods come alive, Dwight clasps to his rat race life, making sure that he'll live to see another day even though something unimaginable is after him. Dwight won't stop. He'll survive no matter what. As others spent hours being seen in high school. He spent hours becoming invisible and avoiding danger. And it doesn't matter if it's dangers in the hallway or dangers in the woods. Survival is key. As other employees panic when terror infects them, Dwight makes use of his disturbing teen experience. The tables have now turned and now others need to follow to Dwight's firm directions if they are to survive as he knows how to disappear.

The pissy cunt is Nea Karlsson, an urban artist and possesses an orange soul. Nea is of Swedish descent, a tagger and a bit of a troublemaker. She started rebelling when she was 16, she dyed her hair black and cut it in a way she liked it. In her early teens, her parents thought she lacked that thing that makes everyone else "normal". She may have gone too far when her friends, not thinking well, dared her to tag the old asylum. She was never seen again and now tries her best to survive the Entity's dangers. Nea grew up in the small town of Hjo in Sweden. She had a happy childhood even though her mom and dad worked hard. As the opportunity to move to the US became a reality she started acting out. Her parents didn't pick up on this as a reaction to their move. Nea was forced to leave her friends and life behind. Nea shied away from what her parents considered "normal". Instead, she took refuge in skate parks, and her tag "Mashtyx" was seen more or less all over her new hometown, and Nea made a sport out of tagging government buildings. Finally, Nea's parents became used to Nea disappearing for a few days on end. As she's nimble and almost catlike, she's able to evade deadly dangers. Years on skateboards have proven worthy training. And keeping her head down, avoiding the fuzz can be applied to all dangers. The only question is whether she has some interest in not giving up.

The woman of reasoning that blinded me is Laurie Strode, a determined survivor and possessing a red soul. You never know what matters in life until you've realized it might end soon. Laurie is one of those who just want a quiet life in the suburbs, hanging out with friends, family and maybe go on a date or two. Laurie is a typical teenager. You could pass her on the street and not think twice. She does her homework and is liked by her friends, teachers, and family. A simple night of babysitting turns into something that will forever change the course of her young life. A knife swooshing through the air. Screams from afar. Noises that plays tricks with her mind. But not Laurie, she's made of something stronger. Something that won't give up.

The man that held me back is William "Bill" Overbeck, an old soldier and possesses a blue soul. It took two tours in Vietnam, a handful of medals, a knee full of shrapnel, and an honorable discharge to get William "Bill" Overbeck to stop fighting and try to live a peaceful life. He hated it. After decades spent drifting aimlessly through dead-end jobs, Bill went in for a routine surgery and woke up to find the world he knew was gone. A plague was turning normal people into mindless killing machines. Naturally, the first thing he did was fight his way home and put on his uniform. Making his way through rural ghost towns and pitch-black forests, he found other Survivors, and together they fled from the infected hordes. In the end, Bill sacrificed himself to ensure their safety. Bill was left for dead. No one knows that he still has the only thing he ever wanted: an enemy to fight endlessly.

The tired-looking man is Quentin Smith, a resolute dreamwalker and possessing a red soul. When he heard that his friend Nancy's mother had disappeared, Quentin Smith knew instantly that their success had been short-lived. Although their plan had seemed to work flawlessly, Dream Killer had beaten death yet again. But Quentin wasn't about to give up. It may take many attempts, but he vowed that somehow they would find a way to beat it, once and for all. If he didn't, it would only be a matter of time before that thing would win and Nancy was lost. Someone like Quentin never attracted attention in a library, no matter how strange the texts he requested. He devoured all the information he could find, on shared dream worlds, lucid dreaming, and the methods to control the dream space. Forcing himself to stay awake, via a steady diet of pills and energy drinks, he searched through dusty volumes, finding myths about the demons that live in dreams, trapping their victims in limbo and feeding off their terror. He worked quickly as he knew that the killer would soon be coming for him. It wasn't long before that moment arrived and it began appearing in his dreams. He stayed at the periphery at first, taunting Quentin, seemingly hoping to tire him out. Using all that he had learned, Quentin was able to see flaws in the dream; cracks where escape routes could be formed. He tested this skill carefully, not wanting to show his hand, hoping that it would give him some kind of advantage that he could use to defeat that thing. Then, one night, he found himself in the familiar environment of Badham Preschool. the killer had tired of the taunting and had finally decided to gut him. Quentin ran through the school, his quick eyes scanning for something useful in the maze of rooms. He found a can of paint thinner and quickly formulated a plan. Once the trap was set, he waited, acting as the lure to draw the murderer into the right position. And there it was, claws scraping on metal as he closed in for the kill. Quentin allowed himself time to enjoy the surprise on that thing's face as the corridor ignited and then he was away, running through the building, heading for the exit that he knew existed. If he harried it, weakening it and then escaping the dream, surely that would defeat him over time? Before his eyes, the cracks in the dream closed and his escape route was blocked. He was in the killer's secret room again, and there was nowhere to run. As it closed in, a broad grin spreading across its ruined face, Quentin was consumed with a need to see this thing finally obliterated. He wished it had been him, not his father, who threw the gas can that ended it's life, that it had been him who cut its throat. Perhaps that desire would be enough? This was a realm of the mind after all. He let it consume him, concentrating all his thoughts on wishing it gone. His vision was obscured with roiling tendrils of fog and, when it cleared, he was somewhere else. In another dream? If so, it wasn't his; it felt cold and unfamiliar. A flickering drew his attention and he realized he was by a campfire, and he wasn't alone. Other people were trapped here too, and they needed his help.

The man in the police get up is Detective David Tapp, an obsessed detective and possesses a yellow soul. Detective David Tapp was one of the good guys. His determination to see Killers brought to justice and their victims avenged had led him through a long and respected career. When he first saw the details of the Jigsaw case, it seemed like many others. More grisly and macabre, sure, but just another lunatic with a penchant for the over-dramatic, who would soon be behind bars. A stroke of insight brought Tapp, and his partner Detective Stephen Sing, to an abandoned mannequin factory, where they discovered Jigsaw's lair. They apprehended the man but he managed to escape before being unmasked, slashing Tapp's throat as he did so. Leaving his partner, Sing went in pursuit but fell victim to a booby trap. Tapp had failed to go by the book on this one occasion, entering the lair without a warrant, and it had resulted in a Detective's death. He was discharged from the force and left with a ruined throat and crippling guilt. He channeled that guilt into an obsession: he would find the killer, stop the murders, vindicate himself, and avenge his friend and colleague. Following the evidence trail brought him to Dr. Lawrence Gordon and he staked out the doctor's apartment, sure that he would find some evidence of guilt. Then he saw a stranger at Gordon's window and heard gunshots. Tapp confronted him and the man fled, with the pursuit leading to an industrial building. Tapp's age caught up with him, a fight that he would easily have won in his younger days ended with Tapp taking a bullet to the chest. Slumping to the floor, he saw only failure. He had failed his partner and the other victims. Whoever the killer was, Tapp had been unable to stop him. More would die and it would be his fault. He let the rage and guilt consume him and closed his eyes for the final time. Beneath him, the concrete floor softened. He dug his fingers into the ground, feeling dirt and leaves. Where his chest had been wet with blood, the shirt was now dry and the pain had gone. His eyes opened onto a darkened sky and the jagged, searching fingers of branches. Screams echoed through the forest and a new determination filled him. His mind was clear for the first time in months. Victims needed to be avenged, killers thwarted. He didn't know what this place was, but he was still a cop, and he always would be. He had a job to do.

The brooding loner that isn't me for once is a man named Jake Park, a solitary survivalist and possessing a cyan soul. Growing up the son of a wealthy CEO was always going to put pressure on Jake Park. When his brother graduated with honors from Yale, the pressure on Jake intensified. Jake just wasn't the academic type, but his father never really understood his refusal to embrace the expensive education he lavished upon him. Eventually, Jake rebelled by dropping out of school entirely. Now, Jake lives off the grid on the edge of the woods. It's been years since he spoke to his father but his mother checks in once in a while. It was she, who eventually called the police. The cops said he got lost in the woods and a search party looked for days but gave up as bad weather rolled in. Despite passionate pleas from his mother, they never resumed the search and Jake went down in history as another casualty of the woods. Jake's destiny was set even inside his mother's womb. Heir to wealth, noble manners and caretaker of the family reputation and legacy. During torture it's not the pain that breaks a man, it's immense pressure. And Jake couldn't handle any more pressure. Instead, he sought the opposite of fine dining and maids. He left the grid and ended up with a forest as the closest neighbor. A self-made outsider, Jake understands nature. He's not there to tame something - rather him becoming feral. Remove the brutal Killers that seek out blood to drain and Jake would feel just at home. No Wi-Fi. No Fortune-500 companies. No father nor mother. Years away from modern life has given Jake a new feel for problems. Pain is just an obstacle that hinders you from getting fed. No matter what is hunting you, you need to stay one step ahead. Struggle, blend in, adapt. Just don't make it easy for others to erase you from the Earth's surface.

The red-headed girl making me want a Wendy's burger by just looking at her is Meg Thomas, an energetic athlete and possessing an orange soul. Perhaps it was her mother that had instilled the fierce streak in her or maybe it was her father that left them when she was a baby. Meg excelled at schoolwork but she was off the rails. Fortunately, an athletics coach encouraged her to channel her misspent energy on the track. She motivated herself into becoming a high school star and earned a scholarship to college. When her mother fell ill, Meg decided to give up her chance at college to care for the woman who had raised her. One summer's day, on a long run deep in the woods, Meg vanished. Search as they did, they never found her body. Meg is one of those who is just simply filled with energy. Unfocused and uncontrollable energy that had to come out. As a kid, it came through rowdiness and rebellion. Someone had to focus Meg before something went wrong. Fortunately, someone did. She started to run. Maybe from something undefined that fueled her energy. So to run equaled life. But to run now might attract those beings that crave the pain of others. But as she runs from something, instead of towards it, she understands something. She understands that speed is not of the essence. It's reaching that finish line. Rather last but still breathing. She deludes whatever is out there as she glides through obstacles and fear, thus managing to stay alive.

A man with an old flattop haircut is Adam Francis, a resourceful teacher and possessing a purple soul. Adam was born in Rollington Town in Kingston, Jamaica. His father died in a car accident when he was two, and his uncle took him in. His uncle was a strict, but fair man, who raised him to value education. At Kingston College, Adam discovered his father's published works, which triggered his passion for literature. His campus, however, was known for its focus on athletics. As a shy teenager with his nose stuck in books, he was the perfect prey for bullies. What he lacked in sports, he made up in grit. He learned to defend himself in the thick of it. It's during his years in college that he started to imagine his life elsewhere. While his close friends orbited the music industry, he followed a surer path. His grades granted him admission to higher education, and there was a demand for teachers abroad. After graduating from university, he taught extra classes to afford applying fees overseas. He had a steady diet of long commutes, grading piles, nightly lesson plans, and early classes. After a year, he managed to apply for a position abroad. His first plane ride took him to Southern Japan for a new start. His life in Kagoshima was hectic. There was little time to do everything he took for granted back home. His Japanese was elementary at best, which slowed him down. Buying groceries took hours, long commutes had to be planned, and lesson plans relied on Japanese notions, which he had to learn. But after a few months, he found his rhythm. He reflected on it one morning while riding the train to work. He no longer had to study the Kanji characters filling the map. He knew his way. His language skills had improved, he felt connected to his students, and he'd treat himself to luxurious restaurants on weekends. He even had his first vacation planned. Within seconds, Adam's world was brought down to slow motion. Rails hissed, bags came pouring down, and the floor trembled before the hit: Adam crashed forward as the train flipped upside down. He landed on a windowpane as an unhinged door came flying at a passenger. He rolled over so that the door would hit him instead of the girl. He shut his eyes as he braced for impact, but nothing happened. He squinted one eye open and he saw nothing but darkness. A heavy Fog had taken over the train. Ice seemed to flow through his body, reaching his lips first, then the tip of his fingers before spreading to his legs. Lulled by the warm hum of the dark whisper, he closed his eyes, drifting. No one truly knows what happened to Adam Francis. The school teachers imagined the worst when they watched the train derailment on the news and saw he was missing. Their fears seemed to be confirmed when Adam's bag was recovered from the crash site, but his body was never found. To this day, his uncle believes that Adam took off after the train crash, alive still, somewhere out there.

The quite gal staring off into the brush is Claudette Morel, a studious botanist and possesses a green soul. From the day that her parents gave Claudette her first science kit, she loved experiments. Her single-minded pursuit lead to an early scholarship at a great college. It was a huge decision to leave Montreal, but the chance was too good to pass up. Her introverted nature means that chat rooms and forums are now her best source of social interaction. Her new favorite activity is to answer botany questions for others under her new moniker of Science Girl. One evening, during a long bus ride back from the city, Claudette took a stroll that would change her life. It only took a minute for her to get completely disoriented in the thick woods. She never found her way back. Her forum only started to wonder where she was a week after she stopped posting. Claudette is not the outgoing type. Her brilliance provided her with a social handicap and she has fled the real world for chat rooms and forums. Botany and studies fill her life and even though she yearns for something else - it won't come via a modem. Being thrown into a real-life situation can feel awkward and forced. But as she is used to shutting out the world, she suddenly finds hope in this unexplained darkness that is slowly devouring her. A plant. A tree. A bush. Simple greenery that might save a life. She hides within and amongst them. Her knowledge and skills flourish as gruesomeness roams free around her.

The sleazy man that appears to be taken from a shitty casino is Ace Visconti, lucky gambler and possesses a cyan soul. Ace Visconti is one charming guy. With his sharp Italian looks, grey-streaked hair and silver tongue, he could pass for an aging 50's movies star. His heart has always belonged to the cards. From his roots as a poor boy in Argentina, he gambled, scammed, seduced and smooth-talked his way to a life of luxury as a high roller in the land of opportunity. Despite money always having a way of slipping through his fingers, Ace always figured he could win more. He never fulfilled that ambition; eventually, he racked up too many debts with the wrong kind of people. And when they finally came to collect, Ace was nowhere to be found. No one knew who tipped him off or where he fled to, but anyone who knew Ace Visconti can agree on one thing. He will survive: against all odds.

The ray of sunshine woman strumming softly on a guitar is Kate Denson, a hopeful songbird and possessing a green soul. One of Kate Denson's earliest memories was standing in front of her family, singing a song that she'd learned that morning at school, and watching smiles spread across their faces. Seeing how something as simple as a song could make people so happy was the moment when she knew what she wanted to do with her life. She practiced, learned the guitar as soon as she was big enough to reach over it, and was performing in front of crowds by the time she was eight years old. Her mother did everything she could to fulfill Kate's dreams, taking her all over their home state of Pennsylvania, then across the South, and even to Nashville itself. Kate won folk music competitions and talent shows whenever she participated, but for her to win others had to lose, and that wasn't in her nature. She only wanted an outlet, a way to touch people's lives. To make them forget the worries of the world and just enjoy themselves, if only for a while. With age came new-found freedom. She bought a battered old Chevy truck and was able to travel around by herself, meeting fans and making new friends wherever she stopped. Hers wasn't a story of rock excess though: just the road, her guitar and maybe a good bourbon to end the day. From sun-baked festivals to dark and cozy bars, people flocked to her voice and her self-penned songs of friendship, family, love, and home. These sentiments weren't just lip-service: she made sure to return home as often as she could, to help out in her community and entertain the local children with her tales of the wider world. She saw it as a way of giving back, of supporting others in the same way she had been. It was home where she found most of her inspiration as well. She had always loved to take long walks in the woods around her town, exploring off the beaten track, finding a quiet spot to play and write her songs. She had a favorite location she returned to time and time again, a natural hollow, encircled by trees, that looked almost as if it had been blasted out of the rocks thousands of years ago. Here she felt a strong connection to nature, and to the Earth itself. She let her mind be enveloped by the forest and it rewarded her with constant inspiration. She picked up her guitar and played, her fingers dancing across the fretboard. The music that she made this time was unlike her usual uplifting tunes, being much more melancholy, even dark. Still, something compelled her to continue, to finish the song. Around her, the leaves vibrated in unison with the guitar strings and the boughs of the trees lengthened, coalescing into a living form. Spider-like legs descended from the canopy above, grasping for her. Regaining her senses, she grabbed a rock and tried to beat them back, but their skin was as hard as iron and the rock simply bounced off and skittered away. The legs coiled like tendrils around her limbs and lifted her towards the darkness overhead. Fog rolled across the clearing, obscuring both Kate and the creature of nightmares that drew her up towards itself. When the fog cleared, there was no sign of any struggle, or life. Just an acoustic guitar, the scratchplate engraved with flowers; as well as the initials KD, inlaid in mother of pearl.

Another keeps to themselves type is Jeffrey "Jeff" Johansen, a quiet artist and possessing a green soul. Jeff Johansen was born and raised in Ormond, Alberta. He grew up as a quiet, only child with an aversion for large crowds. During High School, his anxious nature was mislabeled as shyness, which he covered up with a tough, stoic persona that intimidated bullies and teachers alike. At home, he discovered an interest in heavy metal and started a vinyl collection. The evocative symbolism on the covers inspired him to make some art of his own, which helped him cope with his parents' constant fighting. To escape his parent's increasingly recurrent blow-ups, Jeff started working at a video store. Few customers passed by, so he had a lot of free time to draw. A late-night regular noticed his sketches and asked him to do some artwork for his gang at the abandoned lodge up Mount Ormond. Jeff accepted the challenge and painted a large mural depicting "The Legion" in runny, bloody letters. He was given a fifty-dollar bill and a 12-pack for his hard work. It was his first paid commission, a milestone to be proud of. After his parents' divorce, Jeff was forced to move with his mother to Winkler, Manitoba, which was miles away from his home town—and his dad. In Winkler, Jeff was more isolated than ever, except for art and music. His solace came shortly after graduating from High School when he started working at a local bar with live music performances. He found a roadie gig shortly after, leaving Winkler behind. A few years later, Jeff got injured after getting involved in a fight during a concert. He was told he could lose part of his eyesight, so his doctor asked him to stay in town to monitor him. It was a difficult time during which Jeff re-assessed his life choices. He went back to school—art school. His eyesight slowly returned, but he had to be careful. He took a few courses, experimenting with a wide range of mediums, ultimately choosing oil painting and digital art, the latter of which offered paid internships. He took up a desk job and found his calling in designing labels for microbreweries. He led a quiet, simple life: he brewed beer, took-in a rescue dog, designed tattoos, and freelanced album covers for bands he liked. All until one morning, when he got a phone call from Ormond saying that his father had passed, leaving a few things to sort out. Jeff drove back to Ormond. He felt a pang of nostalgia when he reached his late father's house. Inside, there was an old guitar case sitting in against the wall. It held a black, vintage model with a sticky note that said, "for my boy." He stayed in town longer than he planned to, reminiscing about his childhood. Driving by his former High School, he remembered the mural he painted up Mount Ormond. He bought a 12-pack and headed to the lodge. After weeks of not hearing back from Jeff, his colleagues assumed that grief had gotten the better of him. His neighbor got tired of sitting his dog, which became more and more agitated as days went by. The dog became a stray again, erring while seeking the familiar trail of Jeff's malty scent.

The on her guard woman in a team outfit is Feng Min, a focused competitor and possessing a red soul. Feng Min was a young girl when she first picked up computer games, and she was instantly hooked. The brand new worlds enchanted her with colors, sounds, and explosions – a chance to be somewhere else, or someone else. Her parents saw no wrong with a few minutes in front of the screen, but as minutes turned into hours and sometimes days, they finally decided to pull the plug and force Feng Min to put more efforts into her studies. She felt smothered by her parents who refused to see the potential of a future in games, so she left home and spent her time in internet cafés and LAN parties where the old rules didn't apply. She spent hours playing, streaming, competing to rise to the top. Her parents became what she called "holiday parents" as she never saw them outside the holidays, and she became the black sheep of a one-child-family. In the gaming world, however, she finally found respect. Nicknamed the "Shining Lion," she was invited to join a prestigious e-sports team and to live in their dorms, where she found a sanctuary free of the misconceptions and prejudice she had felt from her parents and the non-gaming world. Feng Min pushed her limits to prove she was the best. Sleep was less important to her than training. At the top of her game, she filled stadiums with fans who adored her. But it couldn't last forever; The pressure to be the best grew stronger and stronger. She pushed herself too far, slept too little, and her performance began to slip. She started to lose. At night, she would stay up, tormented by the thought of disappointing her parents...and her fans. She spiraled out of control and fell into a pattern of self-destruction. She started wandering the streets and visiting bars, where no one knew of e-sports, waking up in places she didn't remember. One day she woke up somewhere completely different...in a never-ending nightmare. Feng Min did not despair – as she learned more about the challenge she was up against, she realized this was what she had been training for her entire life. Now, she was going to win.

The man making flirty eyes at me is David King, a rugged scrapper and possessing an orange soul. The single child of a wealthy family, David King seemed destined for greatness. While growing up in Manchester, he demonstrated serious potential in both sports and academics, and with his family connections, all doors were open to him. He could have succeeded at anything if it weren't for his combative nature. David lived for the adrenaline rush of a good fight and would go out of his way to get into one. His robustness and athletic abilities led him to rugby, where he could cut loose and cause a ruckus. King excelled and gained a reputation as a promising, if somewhat reckless, rookie. His meteoric rise came to an abrupt end when he lost his temper and assaulted a referee, earning himself a lifetime ban from the league and cutting short what most people assumed was going to be a long, successful career. King was unconcerned; money was no issue, so he took it as early retirement and focused on other fun things to do. Free from the constraints of career and enabled by the wealth of his family, David King spent most of his time at the pub, drinking, watching games, and getting into fights. Some might say he was wasting his life away. Not many people knew that he was an occasional "debt collector" or that he fought in clandestine bare-knuckle fight clubs. When David King stopped showing up at the pub, the few friends he still had were not surprised. They figured he had finally picked a fight with someone stronger than he was. In a way, they were right.

The last of the women is Jane Romero, an influential celebrity and possesses a red soul. Jane Romero was the daughter of the famous actress, Loretta Lawrence, of whom she had no memory. Her parents had separated when she was still a baby, mainly since her mother was often away filming. Jane was raised by her father, a struggling visual artist. She grew up torn between resenting her mother's absence from her life and admiring her presence on screen. As a teenager, Jane secretly wished to emulate her mother's talent. She would direct and perform in plays, audition for TV commercials and help her father at his studio. During her senior year, she entered a national oratory contest and won first prize. Her performance attracted the attention of a radio station that contacted her for an interview. During the live show, her natural charm and repartee impressed the staff, who offered her a part-time job at the station. After graduating from college in Communication, she quit her job at the station to work for a trendy variety show. But her frank delivery and ad-libs were not appreciated by the show's executives, who fired her after five months. Desperate for another opportunity, Jane pitched a show at the radio station she used to work at, only to be turned down, her proposal being too risky. Four months later, she received a phone call from a producer who had seen reruns of the show. He was looking for a co-host to spark up the failing show Quick Talk. Live television meant long hours, a low salary, and no stability, but it also offered a platform to broadcast her views. She disputed the crude inflammatory tone of Quick Talk and pushed for a relate-able coverage of personal issues. Her honest delivery resonated with her audience and within weeks, the show's viewership was steadily growing. After two years, she launched a full-hour segment called The Jane Romero Show, which was broadcast nationally and covered tabooed topics, including her struggle with abandonment. Her show broke records and her initials J. R. became synonymous with products ranging from beauty creams to fashion accessories. But Jane needed more; she wanted others to follow her in her footsteps. She published a memoir that covered her childhood with an absent mother. Her book was an instant best-seller but was reviewed harshly. Critics called it "a serving of sad anecdotes seasoned with bland, generic self-help tips." Jane took this criticism to heart since, despite her success, a voice in the back of her mind was starting to doubt her achievements. Her success also generated an increasingly demanding schedule and a growing pressure to entertain constantly. During a particularly tense week, she canned an episode and instead launched a two-hour-long special on divorce. Her stress peaked when she learned that her mother had agreed to star in her show. Jane put on a brave face and began the show. Most of it went without a hitch, but her mother walked on set, smiling warmly at the audience, Jane's stomach lurched unpleasantly. She was consumed by violent envy that had been festering. Yet she carried on with a strained smile, until Loretta interrupted her, saying that they were not related. The interview went haywire after that. After the show, Jane was driving to her father's house in New Jersey. She needed to talk things over with him; she had not been feeling like herself lately. She turned on a free-way along the coast to avoid major congestion and popped some painkillers to numb the throbbing pain in her temples, which had been nagging her all day. Then she started to relax and turned on the radio; classical music was playing. The drive was slow. Black ice covered the highway, which was packed with cars on their way back home. Night fell. A darkness began to blur the corners of her vision and turned the headlights into swirls of red. Jane blinked to sharpen their outlines, but each time she closed her eyes, her eyelids became heavier and heavier until they remained shut for a moment too long. The following morning, authorities were fishing out Jane's car from the water. Despite leading a meticulous search for weeks, they were unable to retrieve her body. The airing and production of The Jane Romero Show was suspended until after her funeral, which both her father and mother attended. As the public grieved for Jane, there was a surge of orders for J. R. products and all her episodes were re-released a month later, with an opening credit that wished her eternal peace.

And lastly for the men is Ashley "Ash" Joanna Williams, an alone wolf and possesses a blue soul. During a weekend at a cabin with friends, Ash Williams uncovered the Necronomicon Ex-Mortis (The Book of the Dead) and awoke something dark in the woods. Evil possessed his friends, whom he was forced to kill, and his right hand, which he sawed off. For the next thirty years, Ash ran from his past, working at a Value Stop department store and seducing women in dive bars. But he screwed up one night while being high when he read from the Necronomicon to impress a woman. Evil found him once more, wrecking the life of those around him. But his co-workers, Pablo who was raised by a shaman and Kelly who was orphaned by the Deadites, helped him put up a fight. While battling Evil, Ash was reunited with his long-lost daughter Brandy, who encouraged him to embrace his role as savior of humanity. After a terrible fight with a fully formed demon, Ash, drawing his last breath, was taken by the Knights of Sumeria and transported into the future. Ash wakened to a voice, his head throbbing. Since defeating a gang of Deadites a weak ago, he had been in a perpetual state of hangover. He heard the voice once more; a woman singing, sensual and inviting. Stepping into the corridor in his boxers, he strode towards the voice, which lead to the public locker room. As Ash pushed open the door, the singing stopped. There was a rustling of curtains. He called out, entering the change room. His voice reverberated off the moldy tile walls. He pressed on, reaching a shower that was still dripping wet. Cold, humid fingers ran down his bareback. He turned around. A woman stood naked, her skin glistening in the morning light that streamed in from high windows. Ash recognized her instantly: Linda Emery, one of his former high school flings. They had gotten back together years later while saving their home town from Evil. He had ended their relationship soon afterward, preferring to indulge freely in his new-found popularity. Linda winked at Ash, who closed the distance between them. He caressed her cheek wistfully: What was she doing here? Did she know anything about the whereabouts of her daughter? And Pablo and Kelly? A sharp blade dug into his hand, making him jump back. Linda slid a finger across the edge of her blade, collecting Ash's blood on her fingertip. She smiled, and her skin shriveled, her hair faded, her shoulders stopped, and her curves sagged, aging decades older in a matter of seconds. She attacked Ash, who poorly managed to block, being half-naked. Every blow she delivered earned him a new wound. She slashed his bad knee and he fell to the floor. As she jumped on top of him, Ash shrieked in disgust, knocking the knife out of her grasp. Her varicose hands wrapped around his neck, strangling him. Gasping, he outstretched his arm, hand landing on a soap dispenser. He spurted out some liquid on his fingers and poked her in the eyes. The elderly woman winced, weakening her hold, and Ash elbowed her in the face, knocking her back. He rolled over and grabbed the knife on the floor. Just as he was about to plant it in her chest, he stopped. There was something else he wanted more. He pressed the blade against her throat. Let's make a deal, demon. In exchange for not killing you, you portal me back to my friends. The demon agreed. She began reciting the incantation, instructing Ash to repeat after her, which he failed to manage. When nothing happened, Ash threatened the demon, who argued back, blaming his poor pronunciation. Their combined exchange of Sumerian words triggered a hiss from the shower behind them. The wet tiled floor darkened, and the pipes burst. A whirlpool of dirty water, shower curtains, and used toilet paper swallowed the demon, while Ash held onto a locker door, which slowly slipped from his fingers. FFFUUUC- ...Ash landed flat on his chest in the Realm of The Entity, sputtering grass. He got up, brushing off the dry clothes he suddenly had on. Then he looked around and his grin fell. It was the kind of place that made two things obvious: one, there wasn't any bar for miles, and two, he was going to need his shotgun and chainsaw, both of which he lacked. As he started to walk towards a glinting light ahead, a scream rippled through the trees. Groovy.

As for me? By comparison, I feel a sense of relating to some and others I just can't get a feel for. Mostly because we nearly all come from different points in time that makes no sense to each other, aka Bill and Ash. Bill comes from a zombie-filled time and Ash a demonic one. So add alternate timelines to the fucked up mess of things. Other than that we all seem to have the unfortunate thing in common of going to areas where we shouldn't have to wind up here. My role and soul have yet to be determined due to just arriving. Only after a trial are these things discovered. Though they tell me there is some time before the next trial starts. Seems when the Entity drops in a new survivor, it gives them a chance to get their bearings before sending them off to die. Apparently, it doesn't do that with the killers which have lead to random encounters and sudden deaths of unsuspecting survivors. Though from what Jake tells me, even though the killers brought here have done terrible things, not all of them easily bow to the Entity's will. The Killers are made to do the Entity's bidding, which is to relentlessly hunt and kill the Survivors. Many Killers do not do so willingly, although some are happy to sate their Bloodlust. Some have to be tortured over endless years to be coerced into doing what The Entity wants. The Entity is ever patient and the torture ever more severe. Eventually, they all cave in and start the hunt for the Entity. To mold these unwilling ones even further and strengthen the willing, the Entity has embedded its power into them, changing them to beasts that are no longer human. The killers are monsters, both figuratively and literally. For successfully sacrificing to their master, the best Killers are granted the sweetest reward of being able to slaughter Survivors on the spot without hooks. Either way, everyone on both sides loses and only the Entity wins.

Suddenly there's a deathly chill in the air. The tops of the trees sway in the opposite direction. And the fog thickens to the point the glow of the fire reflects off of it. My puzzlement grows when four of the group (Nea, Jeff, Bill, and Feng) stand up and become engulfed in black smoke, disappearing from the camp without a trace.

"They've been called out to trial, Luv."

David voices as he plops himself down beside me.

"No worries though. They'll be back. Though if those soddin' monsters hook'em up, they'll be takin' a bit longer."

"Why?"

"Because they'll be fed on by the Entity."

Meg states.

"It takes its time to feed and restore our bodies. We take a lot of damage in trials. Stuff you shouldn't live through. Not even Claudette's healing skills can fix everything like the Entity."

"But don't let that bug ya, Luv. Even if we die, we never die. Think of it as a fucked-up version of immortality."

I look into the fire and smirk.

"That is not dead which can eternal lie, and with strange aeons, even death may die."

My words make Ash flinch.

"Whoa...That sounds familiar. And by familiar, I mean, sounds like some Necronomicon type shit."

"It's a quote from an H. P. Lovecraft book. He wrote a lot about Elder Gods, demons, and messed up stuff from other dimensions. Heh...Kinda fitting considering this whole thing."

He shakes his head and waves off with his metal hand. The hell kind of prosthetic is that?

"If you have more questions, you don't have to hold back. It's best for all of us to have a full understanding."

Laurie interjects.

"Well...I know you said the killers sometimes roam the woods but is that a permanent thing? Like, is that where they live?"

David scoffs a laugh.

"Oh, that's fuckin' cute."

"Don't be such an asshole."

Meg moves over solely just to punch his shoulder.

"What? It was cute."

The guy is ridiculous. Though I'm a cliché for digging his English accent.

"What he means is, no. The Entity picks the killers before it chooses survivors, but it lets the killers roam around to mess with us, maybe even pick which of us they want like lobsters at a restaurant. Though they can't come into the campsite. It's off-limits and the Entity prevents them from coming in."

"We found that out thanks to that twat, Nea. Damn bird kept tauntin' the monster till it got fed up and charged for all of us. All these black throne riddled vines encased the camp like a dome. And when they came down, the monster was gone."

"But while the killers do sometimes come to our forest, they don't live here. There are sixteen killers that we know of right now. They have territories that relate to them and they often choose to stay there. Some even sharing the area because the Entity put it's belonging there. Though it's those territories that we get sent to for the trials and sometimes it's not even that territories killer that hunts us."

"Agh...So much info-dumping. It's making my head hurt."

"Easy, Luv. We just have a little bit more to share."

I groan and give into this.

"Fine."

"There are twelve territories we've seen so far. These territories are pockets within The Entity, who constructs everything from itself except for the Killers and the Survivors. The Realms do not co-exist at all times but are rather created whenever needed. The location of the Campfire is also located within such a pocket. The Woods and Fog beyond the Trial grounds represent the boundaries of the pocket and are just a façade. The MacMillan Estate is home to the Trapper. The Blood Lodge around Autohaven Wreckers is where we guess the Wraith to live. Coldwind Farm is home to the Hillbilly but is shared with the Cannibal. The Nurse shares her home turf of the Crotus Prenn Asylum area with the Clown who stay in a carny's caravan around Father Campbell's Chapel. The Shape lives on Lampkin Lane, Haddonfield. In the Backwater Swamp there is the Hag and a shack called the Grim Pantry is where she resides. The Doctor can be found at Léry's Memorial Institute. The Huntress resides in the Mother's Dwelling and the Plague in the Temple of Purgation, both are found in the Red Forest. The Nightmare lives on Elm Street, Springwood. The Pig hides out in the Gideon Meat Plant. The Spirit is at her Family Residence of the Yamaoka Estate. The Legion is found in the Mount Ormond Resort. And Ghost Face...doesn't really have a place as far as we know."

"The narcissistic fucker likes to roam apparently. No one place is ever good enough for long."

"But even with all these zones just for them, there is one place they all have control of. The Killer Shack and it's Basement. Down there is a room of pure hell, the closest point to the Entity itself, what with all the freaky unnatural lights and sounds found there. It's packed with memories of endless suffering and torture. The smell of dried blood and bowels stays with you even after death."

"Huh...Maybe it was him out there then."

"You saw one?"

"Why else do you think I came literally crawling back? I'll admit that sometimes I can be crazy, but I'm far from insane. If I see something weird, I don't stick around like a dumbass in a horror movie."

"Clever girl..."

David's arm rests over my shoulders.

"If you're smart, keep your 'ead down, and can move fast, you should 'ave no trouble avoidin' those creeps."

I give him a funny look which has him looking back at me in playful confusion.

"What? What's with that face?"

"...You're lucky I have to save my energy for not being killed or that arm would be up your arse."

I use the British word for ass hoping it would make it sink in. It has the opposite effect, as he smirks.

"You got spunk, Luv. I like it. Nothin' more attractive than a woman that can kick some arse."

Oh for fuck's sake.

"Dude, I'm giving you ten seconds to back off before you find out just how spunky I can be."

"Is that a promise?"

I can hear the bones in my right-hand pop as it clenches into a fist. Though this is made for nothing as a hand on my shoulder keeps me just levelheaded enough to not punch David's teeth in. It's Quentin, and a simple shake of his head is all he needs to do to say so much. I sigh and stand up, walking towards the outskirts of the camp.

"And people wonder why I don't socialize."

Leaning on a tree that just barely stands within the glow of the fire, I hear the petty squabbling of a few of them berating David on his actions. Honestly, they're wasting their time. I don't blame David. Dude's honestly got a nice cut of jib. I'm just not used to having attention. Especially THAT kind of attention. It makes me feel awkward.

"Are you okay?"

Adam comes close but not very, wanting to stay in the light and not be so close to the forest.

"Yeah, I'm okay. No harm, no foul."

"Are you sure? You looked pretty upset."

"Why is it that when someone says that they're fine, the questioning party always repeats the same question again but in a different format?"

"I'm just trying to make sure..."

"I said I'm fine! I don't need to be babied!"

I can't stand this. There's too much pressure. Bad enough I'm in a huge group. Bad enough this whole Entity and killers bullshit. But I don't need someone thinking I need help or pity.

"Okay...You don't have to snap."

I growl at him and myself.

"Don't do that."

"Huh?"

"Don't make me out to be the bad guy. I told you I was fine and you kept at it like somehow my answer would change. I don't need this. Fuck this shit! I'm out!"

Fuck the danger. Fuck these people. Fuck everything! Nothing matters! I storm off into the woods, ignoring the shouting of warning, I just want to be alone and away from all this fuckery. So what if I run into a killer? Big whoop! They claim to die all the time by these monsters and they're still kicking. Bet the only inconvenience will be the pain. To quote a famous movie killer doll..."Go ahead and shoot! I'll be back! I ALWAYS come back! ...But dying is such a bitch". Geez...How long have I been walking now? If I keep going would I end up in a loop or possibly wind up in one of those other areas they told me? Why is it that all the cool stuff always happens when you have no means of recording it? Then again, who would I be recording for anyway? Wait...Is this really the direction of thought I'm having while all of THIS is happening? What the hell is wrong with me? I mean...

*CRUNCH*

Uh oh. That wasn't me. Maybe? Just to be certain, I won't move.

*CRUNCH*

Yeah, that wasn't me. Did someone follow me out here? No, they're too fearful to do something like that. I'm the idiot with a death wish.

*CRUNCH*

It's getting closer. Whatever it is. Damn fog. Can't see a thing it's so thick. Okay, keep calm. Don't panic. Just stay low to the ground and scurry into some shrubbery till it goes away. Then run like hell.

*CRUNCH*

lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...

Is that...Is that my heart beating in my ears? Wow, that is clear. Also creepy as hell.

*CRUNCH*

lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...

Okay, really don't like how that's getting louder.

lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...

What the fuck has my heart going nuts?! There is nothing out here! What kind of crazy bull...

*CLANG-CLANG*

Shit?

The sound of a bell tolls and a figure materializes from the shadows. A tall imposing thing now stands not far from my little hiding bush. This thing is draped in a faded black hooded tattered cloak smeared with ash or dust traces, it's face obscured from sight with only the tiny glow of white coming from its eyes, and bandage wrappings around the mid to lower torso region along with parts of both arms. On its waist are two pouches, one large on it's right and a smaller one on it's left. I can't see its legs but going off on how it walked I'd say this thing is barefooted. There's strange scarring on what I can see of its right arm, this arm also holding a very macabre and deadly weapon. What looks almost like an ax but made from the skull and attached spine of a human that has three wickedly sharp blades coming down from the teeth. Its left arm seems to have wire or ring-like bangles along the wrist, and in this hand it holds the source of the ringing. A heavy-looking cast iron bell that is also made of a human skull. I'm seeing a theme here.

"Tra la la. Come on out, little one..."

That voice...like a quiet garbled growl, as if it has a congested throat.

"You can not hide forever."

The hell I can't.

lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...

Man, that is getting old. Am I only hearing this because it's so close? Gee, that would be useful knowledge to have. Thanks, teammates! You spam me with all sort of crap about your lives and you leave out the essentials. I hate people.

*CRUNCH*

It stomps harshly into the ground and it makes me flinch, which makes the blush rustle faintly. Too bad for me that this slight rustle is enough for the creature to notice. A sudden red glow coats the ground in its line of sight and it covers the bush I'm currently in.

"Found you. Tra la la."

My choices for moves at the moment are limited and time-based. I have to pick something. Instinct and pure randomness kick in. Making me pull one of the weirdest moves out of my zany bag of tricks.

"*sheep bleats*"

Arguably not the smartest sound to make but the effect is what I was praying for. This odd sound coming out of a bush confuses this killer. This momentary mind fuck is just the slight advantage I need, using its daze state to dash out of the shrub on all fours. This also adds a bit more confusion to the killer but not for long.

*CLANG-CLANG*

lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...

Okay, still beating hard but not booming crazy like before. No doubt it's giving chase. Only things I don't know are how fast it can move, if it can flank me, and which way is camp. Best to serpentine as much as possible.

lub-dub...lub-dub...

It's settling down? Is it not following me? No! Don't be stupid. Don't slow down. Don't look back. Keep going forward and never stop.

*CLANG-CLANG*

The red glow suddenly flashes at my left side. I do my best to dodge out of the light's radius and I do manage to keep my vitals from harm. That, unfortunately, didn't mean I avoided the attack. No. While still in its reach, this creature took great aim and swung it's weapon down hard to stick its blades deep into my left leg's calf. The sound that escapes me becomes a haunting roar that makes the forest even more spooky than it already is. I skid across the ground into a tree, a trail of crimson highlighting my path, the weapon of my crippling still jammed in my flesh and possibly bone.

"Poor little lamb..."

Please don't rub salt in this wound by gloating.

"You should've stayed in the corral with the rest of the herd. Tra la la."

Don't do something stupid brain. For the love of God, do not do something stupid because you're distracted by that somewhat adorable speech tick it has.

"*wincing* I can't help...that I'm sheepish."

Okay, that wasn't doing something stupid. That was saying something stupid. Good job. You found a loophole. This stupidity puzzles the killer. I know I'd be questioning so much if I was in its place.

"You are a strange one. Tra la la."

I meekly shrug.

"*wincing* I prefer...quirky. *whimpering chuckle* Oooh...fuck that stings!"

That gets it to snicker lightly as it approaches.

"Quirky? Heh...I suppose that is more fitting for an oddity such as you."

I can't move. I mean, I probably can, I still have three working limbs. But I can't make myself move. Its aura is smothering enough to hold me down. So when it reaches for the ax handle I nearly bite my tongue off to keep under control for when those blades are yanked haphazardly out of me. Though my attempt is a failing one. Another eerie wail cries out of me and into the forest as more blood is spilled.

"Such odd sounds you make, little one. But a refreshing change none the less. Tra la la."

Thank you I guess? Honestly, I can't tell if it's complimenting me or dicking around. Either way I'm in too much pain to care and I'm fairly sure the bone in my calf is broken.

"Till we meet again."

For a moment I swear it was going to leave. To spare me this one freaky encounter since this wasn't a real hunt. But that is wishful thinking on the hopeful part of my soul. For these monsters aren't called KILLERS for no reason. In that fraction of a second where my hope had spiked, I fail to take note of the dark whispers in the wind and the violent swinging of the ax to my back. The first strike alone paralyzes me as it's a direct blow to the spine. Blood splattering in a vicious burst across me, the area, and it. The next three are just overkill and break my body's necessary connections to keep it going. Regrettably, I'm still alive. Bodily functions are coming to a slow stop and I'm bleeding out rabidly, yet I'm still very aware of all of it.

"Maybe next time you will remain in your pen like a good little lamb. There are wolves about. Tra la la. It would be a shame to see such innocence strewn about like a gutted corpse on a hook."

I want to say something. Anything. But all that leaves my mouth is blood that is flowing out of my deflated lungs.

"Tra la la. Let this be a lesson, little one. Learn it well."

My unblinking eyes lay their sight on that dripping ax once more as it's lifted high and comes crashing down like a merciful gift to my skull. Because all pain stopped the second darkness takes me.

[The Entity is pleased! The meat. It bleeds. Wiggle, little worm. Wiggle. Do not waste precious time! Find others! Quickly! Kill more meat! Catch meat. Sacrifice meat. Appease The Entity. Do not let the light in!]

I bolt upright with a sharp gasping breath. A cold sweat coats my skin and my heart is pounding a million miles a minute. I don't get the chance to question if any of that was real, for the first thing my eyes see is the campfire and then the people around it giving me weird looks. All seventeen are there now so I guess the trial ended. I instinctively feel around for damage I know happened but find none. There's no ripping of my clothing or even a drop of blood staining it. It's like...nothing happened. The only odd thing, the thing they're all looking at me funny for, is my exposed soul. It's not a single color like theirs. Hell, it's not double, triple, or even a handful of colors. This heart-shaped soul floating out of my chest is a fucking rainbow of ten, yes, ten colors all sloshing about in a torrent of colliding waves. Black, purple, blue, cyan, green, yellow, orange, red, pink, and white. Three of these colors I don't think they've ever seen before. Not liking their staring, plus this soul exposure makes me feel naked, I force the heart back inside my body and react as one might do in such a situation.

"The fuck are you looking at?!"

That bark gets a good chunk of them to turn away. Yet some don't and one has more balls than the rest to come near me...David.

"You don't look so good, Luv. Did one of the monsters moris ya?"

I'm sorry, Brit boy say what now?

"Come again?"

"Memento Moris. It's the killer's ability to kill Survivors while skippin' the whole stick you on a 'ook thin'. A neat little trick they don't often get to do."

"Oh...Yeah. That happened. Not sure if how far I got or if you lot heard me at all."

"We didn't 'ear any screams. But we did 'ear some messed up shit. Was that the killer doin' all that?"

Alright, that makes me laugh. They thought that was a killer? Can't blame them. I don't make human sounds when in pain. My amusement puzzles him and even more so when I pat the spot next to me, giving him the okay to join me. He does so but cautiously.

"What's so funny?"

"Those sounds you heard...*giggles* That was me."

The "what the fuck" look he gets is priceless.

"You? You made those monster noises?"

"Yeah."

"Bullshit."

"Dude, why would I lie about that?"

"I...How?"

"I don't know how to scream."

"...Okay, now I know you're fuckin' with me."

"Dude, I literally woke up here growling and snarling like a beast. Are you sure I'm yanking your chain?"

He ponders this a moment.

"I guess not. Still a bit nuts though."

"And what isn't in this place?"

"Good point, Luv."

Maybe David isn't so bad in small doses. At least now he isn't being a flirty douche and I can take note of the two tattoos he has. One is behind his left ear of a Rose and the other is on his right forearm of a Lion. From what he spoke of in his past, that rose is from his Rugby Union Jerseys.

"So...Which of them freaks was it that did ya in?"

"The hell would I know? You were all so busy tell me your life's stories that you didn't give me info on the killers other than names and territories. Which, by the way, thanks for that. Real fucking helpful."

He chuckles as I glare. Though it doesn't hold much attitude when he pats my head apologetically.

"Sorry, Luv. But to be fair, we didn't expect ya to run off a second time."

"Yeah yeah. Excuses excuses."

"If it 'elps, I'll make it up to ya."

This shouldn't get to me but does get me curious.

"How?"

"If we get paired up on a team for a trial, 'ow about I watch your back?"

I shoot him a look.

"What?"

"You're just going to check out my ass the whole time."

That catches him off guard and he laughs loudly.

"Oh man...I fuckin' love it..."

"Come on, you know you totally would, Mr. English ball buster."

It takes him a bit to settle down. Though when he does, he pulls me into a playful headlock and nugies me.

"Not gonna lie, Luv, I would. The tail around 'ere ain't really fair game. I mean, all but one or two of you birds aren't of jail bait standards. Little Laurie is only seventeen. The oldest one is Jane but that duck ain't my type. Everyone else falls somewhere low but older than Laurie. It's a real minefield."

I feel like lying about my age would be a smart move on my part. Too bad I already gave that detail out when we did our whole "hi, my name is" thing. Curse being 32.

"You, on the other 'and, I like."

I'm starting to think I had it easier with the monster in the woods.

"Now spill it, Luv. What did this monster look like?"

He stops the nugies and I growl at the rat nest he made out of my head. That's going to be a bitch to fix.

"I couldn't see its face. Just the eyes. Though if it helps with knowing what it was, it had a bell."

He nods with recognition.

"Ah. The Wraith. Soddin' tosser can go invisible with that bell. Can't attack though till it's visible again. But it's much faster while 'idden."

"Again, really could've used that info before. Explains how it caught up to me so fast."

"And again, we didn't expect ya to leave."

"Well, now you know. And knowing is half the battle."

"G.I. Joe is still a thing in 2019?"

Laurie chirps.

"If you think that's weird, so is Cabbage Patch Kids dolls."

She gets this look that says "why" very clearly.

"How?"

"Some things just can't die no matter how much time passes."

That innocent yet ominous statement sets a chilling mood. The others keep away from me for now, only speaking to me if needed. David remains with me and aside from a few random blunt flirts here or there, his willingness to chat gives me a little more details on this bunch. Laurie and Quentin are the same age, making them the youngest ones here. Bill, even though he's been pulled from 2009, is the oldest here at the ripe age of 80. No clue how he's so damn spry for that age and managed through a freaking zombie apocalypse. In second place is Ace at 63, followed by Detective David at 58, and Ash at 57. David swears that Jane is in her 60s, yet she looks to be in her 30s, but it's always hard to tell how old a person is in the entertainment industry. They seem to defy aging...just like Madonna. Everyone else is all scattered between 19 and 40. It makes me think. I mean, I get why some of them are here. They went somewhere that was tied to a killer in some way or were with the killer when they too were picked by the Entity. But some of them...Why are they here? Were they pulled in because of crazy strong wills? Did the Entity taste something it liked and was like "sure I'll take that"? God, I have so many questions and I doubt I'll ever be able to even begin to scratch the surface for answers. There is however two questions I don't want answered...When will my first trial start and who'll be the killer?

[Elsewhere: Killer Shack]

*CLANG-CLANG*

"Tra la la. Meeting will come to order."

Wraith materializes and gets the other killers attention.

"Ah, so I was thinking...Tra la la...If we all stop wiping and griping and looking at our weapons after we hit one of those little squirts. We'd probably kill them a lot faster. What does everyone think? Tra la la."

The fifteen other monsters make sounds of agreement.

"Any questions?"

A hand is raised by the Huntress.

"Is it true that a new punk has been brought here?"

Wraith nods.

"Yes, dear. As some of you may have felt, the Entity has brought in a new Survivor. Tra la la. One that I have had the pleasure of finding in the woods outside of the campfire."

"A new human, you say?"

Ghost Face toys with his knife.

"Tell us, darling, what manner of prey are we getting to enjoy this time?"

"A new female has been added to the group. Tra la la."

"Heh...Another bitch that needs to be put down like the rest of the dogs."

Nightmare says with a menacing grin.

"I am not so sure she will be as easy as you think."

That gets some notice.

"AND WHAT IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?"

Trapper, understandably, questions.

"Do not toy around with riddles, friend."

The Nurse makes a good point.

"Just tell us what you know already, bellhop. Some of us have kills to be ready for."

However, Hillbilly is more blunt about it.

"Very well. Tra la la. While I did kill her, she was not without some odd tricks. She did not act like the other humans. Nor did she move like them either. Tra la la. If it weren't for her inexperience, I most likely wouldn't have caught her."

"Sounds more like you're losing your edge. *coughs*"

The Clown interjects between hacking fits.

"There is more. This human also is in possession of a very...how to put it...perplexing soul. Tra la la."

Interest is now at its maximum level.

"hag wants learn. hag learn ALL THINs!"

Hag, for the better part of it's effort, is eager to learn.

"Upon killing her, I managed to glimpse her soul before the Entity could take her away. This soul is unlike any I've seen before. Tra la la. It had multiple colors."

This gets some chuckling out of the Legion.

"heheheh...really trying to hype up this girl, aren't you?"

Wraith shrugs.

"I am merely informing you of what I know. Tra la la. Do with this knowledge what you will."

"then in that case, i choose to call dibs on the new meat."

The others voice out in disapproval.

"🕈☟✌❄ ☝✋✞☜💧 ✡⚐🕆 ❄☟☜ ☼✋☝☟❄ ❄⚐ ❄☟✋☠😐 ✡⚐🕆 👍✌☠ ☺🕆💧❄ 👍✌☹☹ 👎✋👌💧✍" (WHAT GIVES YOU THE RIGHT TO THINK YOU CAN JUST CALL DIBS?)

The Doctor asserts his authority.

"..."

The Shape is very displeased.

"Deary, as much as that tough act is cute, there is a pecking order. Newer killers like us can't claim things willy nilly."

The Plague seems to know her place or just doesn't care.

"screw the rules. i have numbers."

"*snarls*"

Cannibal grips his chainsaw tightly, ready to have it's blade feed on the nearest flesh it can touch.

"I-If you think y-you're good enough to have a s-shot at the new meat. M-Maybe you should p-prove it."

The Pig isn't very menacing when she speaks.

"If anyone should call dibs IT'S ME! I need TENSION! CONFLICT!"

Spirit twitches violently, it's body trying to keep itself together.

"the way i see it, this bull your calling me on is moot. everyone here is gonna vote for themselves to go after the new meat, that is obvious. but what you dorks fail to remember is i don't have just one vote. there are four of me. and last i checked, four beats out any of your ones."

The dirty looks given to Legion would be worth their weight in killing potential if looks could kill. Yet he shrugs this off with a cocky grin and tucks his hands into his pants pockets while heading for the stairs leaving the basement.

"welp...catch you guys later. i'm gonna see what's so special about this human. wait...scratch that...my human."

He mockingly laughs as he ascends the stairs and the remaining fifteen are all glaring at where Legion once was.

"Can we end the meeting on agreeing that the Legion is an arrogant prick? Tra la la."

The resounding agreement is unanimous.

"Very well. Tra la la. Meeting adjourned."

*CLANG-CLANG*

With that, Wraith vanishes and takes its leave along with the other killers. Returning to their areas to prepare for the coming trials. For soon they will be unleashed upon those poor unfortunate souls. And there will be much bloodshed, for some Survivors more than others.

Let me know what you think. And I'm so sorry for all the info-dumping in the beginning. I personally hate it but there's no other way to describe the Survivors. Now...Some of the Killers aren't set in stone yet, but here's the idea for each killer and the monster they are.

Trapper = Fell Papyrus Wraith = River Person (AU determined later) Hillbilly = Flowey (AU determined later) Nurse = Horror Toriel Shape = Undertale Grillby Hag = Horror Temmie Doctor = HorrorFell Gaster Huntress = Fell Undyne Cannibal = Asriel (AU determined later) Nightmare = Napstablook (AU determined later) Pig = HorrorFell Alphys Clown = Asgore (AU determined later) Spirit = Mad Mew Mew (AU determined later) Legion = Sans (tale,fell,swap,horror) Plague = Undertale Muffet Ghost Face = Fell Mettaton (Yes, I'm aware of two more killers coming soon, I'll plan them out when they appear)

Also, you may have noticed I didn't say Freddy Kruger during Quentin's backstory even though his game bio dose. There's a reason for it and it fits with the lore. Nightmare is Freddy, no doubt...Now you're picturing Napstablook as Freddy and it's fucking cute...But, thanks to the Entity, he doesn't remember that. During a Q&A with game creators, they were asked this question..."CAN THE KILLERS REMEMBER THEIR PAST?". They answered..."It depends on the profile of the killer. Some of them do. Some of them don't. And remember might not be the right word. Have access to... maybe." This means that even the willing killers can be altered by the Entity to make it easier for them to be used and kill for their master. So if the Entity can mess with the killer's memories, why not the Survivors? So I'm making it that none of the Survivors that knew a Killer before the Entity got them remembers that Killer's past identity. This makes them true monsters. I'll also be editing the Killers lore to match the monsters a bit better, Legion for one in the game is comprised of 4 souls (2 male, 2 female), but in this story, the 4 souls are all male (4 different Sans). Needless to say more, that needs some tweaking. Thanks for reading all this. Have a good day or night. Laters. ^_^

#undertale #dead by daylight #Anomaly #Lynsie #lynchtale

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krat395 · 5 years

Text

Spooky Scary Funny Bone Ticklers (Chapter 1)

This story serves as a direct follow-up to “Tickle… or Be Tickled.” In this story, which takes place one day after its predecessor, Frisk, Chara, Asriel, and MK spend an entire day and night together bonding with their two favorite wacky skeletons, Sans and Papyrus. And judging by the title of the story, it sounds like Sans and Papyrus are going to be doing something rather crazy, something that’s bound to cause lots and lots of laughter. But before we dive into that, let’s take some time to meet 2 new characters. ;)

Undertale© Toby Fox.

*********************************************

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

*********************************************

SPOOKY SCARY FUNNY BONE TICKLERS

Chapter 1: More Lizards?! MK and Alphys Aren’t the Only Ones?!

It is a Sunday morning, one day before the first day of Frisk, Chara, Asriel, and MK’s final week of school. And on this particular day, the four children themselves will be spending time with their favorite skeleton duo, Sans and Papyrus aka the Skelebros, and they will be leaving with them as soon as MK’s mother arrives to drop off MK’s younger sister. In addition to being like an older brother to two human children, MK is a biological brother to a young deadpan, spooky, cynical, and mysterious lizard girl named Gracie. As an early birthday present, Gracie wants to spend a few hours alone with Gaster, which is the reason why she will be arriving to see all of them very soon. And it should also be noted that Gracie is not the sister that says mean things to MK. MK has more than one sister and that role goes to his 22-year-old half-sister (same father, different mother).

Right now, MK, the Dreemurr kids, and the Skelebros are chilling in Alphys and Undyne’s living room with Gaster, who arrived earlier this morning, as they wait for MK’s younger sister to arrive. Undyne got back from a short vacation the previous day and to celebrate her return home, Alphys, the Skelebros, the Dreemurr Kids, and MK threw her a welcome back party and then all of them stayed overnight. MK’s younger sister isn’t well acquainted with Alphys and Undyne like MK is, so she did not attend the party.

Frisk: Boy, we sure are excited to spend time with you today, Sans and Papyrus.

Chara: Haha! I’ll say. And man, it kinda sucks that you won’t be joining us Gaster. Don’t get me wrong though. I completely understand your situation. *stated Chara a bit disappointedly while playing with MK’s feet and toes*

MK: Oh, heeheeheeheeheeheeheeheeheeheehee!!! Chara, heeheeheeheeheeheeheehee, careful, heeheeheeheeheeheehee, that tickles! Heeheeheeheeheeheeheeheehee!!! *giggled MK preciously in response to Chara accidentally touching his right middle toe in such a way that it tickled him*

Alphys and Undyne have 2 couches and a love seat in their living room. On one couch is MK, Chara, and Papyrus; on the other couch is Asriel, Frisk, and Sans; and on the loveseat is Gaster. And at this very moment, MK has his feet in Chara’s lap. Why? Because Chara has a rather strong foot fetish and she wants to learn how to control it in front of a large crowd. And she feels that having MK’s scaly feet placed in her lap while others are watching is the best way to do it. Now, under normal circumstances, this would be a fairly simple task for Chara. But in this case however, not so much; because Chara likes MK’s feet a lot and finds them extremely cute, meaning that whenever she stares at them for too long, she loses all sense of control and starts worshipping them and/or smothering herself with them; like she did last Wednesday in front of Frisk and Blooky… and a few hours after tickling Alphys with MK last Friday night… and for a little while last night before going to bed. So far, she’s doing fairly well controlling herself; even if her face is noticeably red with blush at the moment. Well, at least it matches the color of her eyes; sort of. Yeah, Chara has red eyes.

Gaster: I know you do, Chara. That little girl’s wanted to spend time alone with me for quite some time now. And hopefully by the end of the day, she’ll see that I’m not such a bad guy.

Although she is not one of Gaster’s followers, MK’s younger sister, Gracie, has idolized Gaster ever since she was about 4 years old. But due to taking the “Never meet your heroes!” phrase very seriously however, she was very hesitant to actually meet Gaster. She was extremely worried that he would be a completely different person than that of who she thought he was and often dreaded what would happen if she made any type of interaction with him because of it. But, after lots and lots of convincing from her older brother, MK, she finally brought herself to meet the legendary scientist himself. There was just one catch though. MK had to be with her at all times. And that was perfectly fine because MK loves his sister very much and always felt much obliged to be by her side supporting her every step of the way. But today however, MK’s sister is taking a huge step by spending a day with Gaster… WITHOUT MK!! After all, she’s going to be turning 10 soon and she believes that it’s finally time for her to start “growing up” despite the fact that she’s already quite mature for her age. And she feels that the best way to do that is to do things that she finds very, very frightening.

Asriel: Pfft. Bad guy?! “Uncle” Gaster, you’re anything but a bad guy!

MK: Haha! You got that right, Az! And Gaster, you be sure to make this day very special day for her, ok, dude? *stated MK while wiggling and splaying his six toes in Chara’s lap, unintentionally teasing Chara with every passing second*

Gaster: Hehehe. I will, MK. I know how important tenth birthdays are to your family. I’ll be sure to do my absolute best to make this day unforgettable for her.

MK: Oh, I have no doubts about that, Gaster. *sniffles* My little sis is growing up so fast. *sniffles* Making a grown-up decision like that; *sniffles* almost brings a tear to my eye. *sniffles*

Then Chara, just looking for an excuse to tickle MK’s feet pulled her rainbow feather out of her pocket and said after locking the young lizard boy’s feet into a “death grip” with her left arm,

Chara: Oh, MK… not if I have anything to say about it! Heeheeheeheeheeheeheehee~!! *giggled Chara teasingly as she began stroking MK’s left foot with her rainbow feather, eliciting preciously frantic laughter and squeaks from the young reptilian boy in response*

MK: PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF, FWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHHAAHAHAHAHA!!!! NOHOHOHOHOHOHHOHOHOHO, CHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHARA, *squeak* HAHAHAHAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! NOHOHOHOHOHOHOOT THE FEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHATHER!!!! *MK pleaded* EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! *squeak* OHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO PLEEHEEHEEHEEEHEEHEEASE, NOHOHOHOHOHOT THE FEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEATHER!!!! GAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! IT TIIIIIICKLES TOO MUCH!!!! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!!!! YAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA~!!!!

Chara: Heeheeheeheeheeheehee!! Of course it does, Lizzy Boy! You are ludicrously feather ticklish after all! Heeheeheeheeheeheehee!! Coochie coochie coo! *teased Chara as she switched over to MK’s right foot with her rainbow feather* Coochie coochie coo!

It’s true, he is! MK is so feather ticklish on his feet that just one feather stroke is always enough to send the young reptilian boy himself over the edge with frantic laughter! Frantic laughter that’s almost on par with Asriel, Toriel, and Asgore’s laughter whenever their feet get tickled by a single feather! And Chara is well aware of that too. Very well aware! ;) MK’s scaly feet are Chara’s favorite spots to tickle after all. Especially with the rainbow feather… that she stole from MK’s mother, Lydia, a few weeks ago during sixth grade art class!

MK: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA!!!! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!!!! CHAHAHAHAHAHAHARA, *squeak* PLEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEASE STOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOP!!!! *pleaded MK once again, wiggling his six scaly toes frantically with every passing second as a means of dealing with the tickles from Chara’s feather* HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! I CAHAHAHAHAHAHAN’T TAKE ANYMORE TIHIHIHIHIHIHIHICKLING!!!! *squeak* FWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!!!! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA~!!!!

???: Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww!! Is someone tickling my little honey puff in there? *asked a certain female lizard monster while walking into the living room with Alphys and Undyne, causing Chara to stop tickling MK for the time being*

That voice. Not only does it sound like that of a young lady but it is also the voice of a beautiful female lizard monster. But it wasn’t Alphys’s voice though. No. Instead, it was the voice of a light yellow 36-year-old armless female lizard monster; a barefoot lizard monster of thin-build with long brown hair in place of head spikes wearing a burgundy ankle-length dress (it has no arm holes), a burgundy ribbon in her hair, and a burgundy ribbon on her tail. …MK’S MOTHER, LYDIA, the art teacher at Toriel’s elementary school!! :D

MK: *excited gasp* Mom!! You’re here!! *shouted MK excitedly*

Lydia: Heeheeheehee!! Hi there, honey puff. *said Lydia cutely to her son, MK* Mommy’s missed you. Heeheeheehee!!

MK: Heeheeheehee!! I’ve missed you too, Mom. Even though it’s only been like a little less than 2 days. Hehe! Anyway, how are you?

Lydia: Oh, I can’t complain. Heeheehee!!

Seconds later, Lydia noticed her son’s feet in Chara’s lap and asked,

Lydia: Awwwwwww! Was Chara tickling your little tootsie cuties just now, honey puff?

Chara: Heeheeheehee!! Why, yes, I was, Lydia. And with this feather no less. *Chara answered for MK while holding up her rainbow feather for Lydia to see* Heeheeheehee!!

Lydia: *gasp* Oh my goodness; Chara, my dear, where did you get that feather? *asked Lydia cheekily, VERY cheekily, as if she knew that Chara stole the feather from her at one point when she wasn’t looking*

Uh oh! Looks like Chara got busted!! :O

Chara: (OH CRAP!!) Um, uh, I-I, um, well, you see, uh, uh, um… *sigh* I can’t lie. I stole it from your box of feathers during art class a few weeks ago, Lydia. …I’m sorry. *Chara apologized with a sad look on her face moments before offering to give the feather back to Lydia* …Here, you can have it back if you want.

Lydia: …Oh, no, no, I don’t want it back, dear. …You hang onto it. I insist.

Chara: R-Really? But I stole it. I-It’s not right to s-steal anything f-from anyone.

Lydia: Pfft. Chara, please, it’s just a feather; albeit a very beautiful feather but still a feather nonetheless. …Heck, if anyone deserves to have it, it’s you, my dear. *assured Lydia with a heart-warming smile*

Chara: You, you mean it?

Lydia: Absolutely! That is unless you don’t think you’re worthy enough to “wield its power.” *teased Lydia* Heeheeheeheehee!!

Chara: Wait, what do you mean by that? *asked Chara confusedly, not entirely sure what Lydia’s trying to tell her*

Lydia: Oh, I think you already know, my dear. Heeheeheehee!! *wink wink*

After seeing Lydia wink at her, Chara figured out what she wanted her to do. :)

Chara: Ohhhhhhhh, ok, I get it now! You want me to tickle something with it. …Hmm, how about this extremely cute pair of ticklish scaly feet? *asked Chara cheekily, acknowledging MK’s feet, which are still resting in her lap*

Lydia: Heeheeheehee!! Oh yes, for sure, my dear. And here, I’ll help you.

Seconds later, Lydia pulled a burgundy feather, something she carries with her practically everywhere, out of her dress pocket with her tail and then used that burgundy feather to tickle MK’s left foot, dragging it across every inch of his sole, wiggling it teasingly in between his toes, twiddling it masterfully under his toes, etc. while Chara focuses on his right foot with her rainbow feather. …Like MK, Lydia has a tail and she knows how to use it! ;) And she should considering the fact that she has no arms. …Right? ;)

MK: PFFFFFFFFFFF, HAHAHHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHHAHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!! OHOHOHOHOHOHHOHOHOHO GOHOHOHOHOHOD, NOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO!!!!!! *squeak* HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!! NOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOT TWO FEHEHEHEHEHEHEATHERS!!!!!! *MK pleaded through his hysterical laughter as he tried to pull his feet out of Chara’s “death grip” but to no avail* EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!!!!!! HEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAHAAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!! MOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOM, CHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHARA, HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA, STOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOP!!!!!! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!!!!!! GAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA~!!!!!!

Alphys: Heeheeheeheehee!! Yes! Feather tickles for the win! Heeheeheeheehee!!

Undyne: (OH…MY…GOD! TOO CUTE! HE’S TOO CUTE!! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!! X3) *squealed Undyne to herself while trying as hard as possible not to accidentally squeal out loud*

As Chara and Lydia tickle MK together, everyone else is sitting and standing idly by watching them in action with large smiles on their faces. And out of all of the individuals that are currently in the living room, Undyne is having the hardest time containing herself. Undyne ABSOLUTELY LOVES adorable things and she finds MK’s laughter and expressions while being tickled in a fun way beyond adorable to the point that all she wants to do is squee with massive amounts of delight… like that of a schoolgirl. It’s a trait of hers that’s all part of her cute side, a side of Undyne that only Alphys knows about… for now at least; because if Undyne can’t manage to contain herself, she will wind up revealing her cute side to everyone by squeeing incredibly loudly. And she doesn’t want to do that! Not today anyway! …But soon though. Soon she wants to reveal her cute side to everyone… as well as her love of tickling and being tickled. And she feels that the best way to start revealing both of those things is to invite MK and the Dreemurr kids over to her house one at time and have tickle fights with them… starting with MK! ;)

MK: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!! *MK continued laughing and giggling as feather plumes continuously grazed his super sensitive soles, prompting him to use his own tail to try and stop the feather tickles entirely* EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!!!!! GAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!! *squeak* HEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA~!!!!!

Seconds later, MK accidentally smacked his mother in the stomach with his tail, prompting his mother to teasingly say something to him that she tells his baby brother, Rex, on a daily basis,

Lydia: Hey! Don’t you tail-whip me, young man! *said Lydia very teasingly* Naughty lizard! Do you need me to tickle your belly too? Because I think you do! Heeheeheeheeheehee!!

MK: AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!! UM, NOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO, HAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHHAHAHAHA, THAHAHAHAHAT’S OK, HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA, I’M GOOHOOHOOHOOD!!!!! *replied MK as Chara and Lydia continued tickling his feet with feathers* GAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEHEEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA~!!!!!

Lydia: No you’re not, honey. …Not until you get some belly tickles from my toesies. *teased Lydia in a singsongy voice*

Moments later, and while continuing to tickle MK’s right foot with the burgundy feather she’s holding with her tail, Lydia lifted her right leg off of the floor and began tickling MK’s belly with all three toes on her right foot. All while balancing herself on her left leg! Unlike MK, Lydia has outstanding balance. That’s pretty impressive for someone that has no arms! :D

MK: EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!!!!!!!! BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!! *MK laughed even more hysterically, prompting him to wrap his tail around his mother’s right leg as a means of dealing with the new ticklish sensations he was receiving* MOHOHOHOHHOHOM, NOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO!!!!!!!! *MK pleaded* HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!! DOHOHOHOHOHOHOUHOHOHOHOON’T TIIIIIICKLE ME WITH YOHOHOHOHOHHOUR TOHOHOHOHOHOHOESIES TOO!!!!!!! *MK pleaded again as he began wiggling and squiggling adorably on the couch* FWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!!!!!!!! GAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA~!!!!!!!!

Undyne: (OH NO!! Now she’s tickling his belly with her toes?!! HOLY *BLEEP* that’s SOOOOO ADOOOOOOORABLE!! Even more adorable than the feather tickles!! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!! Oh no, Oh no, OH NO, I-I’m, I’m about to…) *thought Undyne to herself right before sprinting upstairs to her bedroom with blazing speed to squee into one of her pillows*

Alphys: (Heeheeheeheehee!! Oh, Undyne. Heeheeheeheeheehee!!) *thought Alphys to herself as she followed Undyne upstairs to help her recover from her most recent cute attack*

90 seconds later…

MK: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!!!!! HEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA~!!!!!

Lydia: Heeheeheeheeheehee!! Ok, my dear, I think that’s enough tickles… for now. *said Lydia to Chara* Heeheeheeheeheehee!!

At that moment, Lydia stopped tickling MK entirely. But Chara on the other hand continued tickling MK with her rainbow feather.

MK: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! *MK laughed and squealed as Chara continued grazing his right sole and sawing in between the three toes on his right foot with the plume of her rainbow feather* CHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHARA, WHAHAHAHAHAHAHAT ARE YOU DOOHOOHOOHOOING?!!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! MY MOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOM SAID TO STOHOHOHOHOHOHOP!!!! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!!!! GAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA~!!!!

Chara: ………

MK: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!

But Chara did not listen. Instead, she began tickling both of MK’s feet with her rainbow feather. And quite possibly due to how much she likes MK’s feet, she continued doing so for about 90 additional seconds, grazing both of his soles with the feather plume, sawing back and forth in between his toes with the feather plume, drawing on his soles with the feather quill, etc.

90 seconds later…

MK: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! CHAHAHAHAHAHAHARA, PLEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEASE STOHOHOHOOHOHOP TICKLING MY FEEHEEHEEHEEHEET!!!! FWEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE~!!!!

Lydia: Mmm, yes, my dear, please stop! *demanded Lydia politely as she began tickling Chara’s neck with her tail in an attempt to get her to stop tickling MK* That’s enough tickles for the time being!

Chara: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA! LYDIA, STOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOOP! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA! OK, OK, HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA, I’M SORRY! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I’LL STOP NOHOHOHOHOW! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

And she did too. After being tickled by Lydia, Chara released MK’s feet from her “death grip” and then hugged MK as a means of apologizing to him.

MK: Awwwwww! It’s ok, Chara. I forgive you. No need to feel sad. *stated MK as he hugged Chara back*

A few seconds later, Undyne and Alphys came back downstairs. And in their arms, they were carrying some of Alphys’s paintings to show to Lydia, someone that gives Alphys art lessons whenever she finds the time to do so.

Lydia: *excited gasp* Oh my goodness, Alphys! You painted more pictures?!

Alphys: I did, Lydia. And with help from your personal lessons and Patty’s videos, I think they look pretty decent.

Papyrus: Ohhhhhh. That’s why you ran upstairs so quickly, Undyne. You were grabbing Alphys’s paintings for her so she could show them to MK’s mother, the art expert.

Undyne: Um, yeah; yeah, that’s totally why I ran upstairs, Papy. I REALLY wanted Lydia to see my little lizard weeaboo’s *coughs 3 times* I-I mean, my girlfriend’s paintings. *lied Undyne* Ehehehehehehehe.

Moments later, MK realized something out of the ordinary. His little sis wasn’t anywhere in plain sight!

MK: Wait, wait a second; where’s my little sis?! *asked MK very worriedly as he got up off of the couch he was sitting on to try and find his little sis* Mom, did you forget to bring her with you?!

But then, right as MK took off walking in Gaster’s direction; a gray lizard girl showed up out of nowhere and scared the crap out of him! Why, she scared him so much that she caused him to leap right into Gaster’s arms!

TO BE CONTINUED...

#undertale tickle #undertale tickling #monster kid #monsterkid #tickle story #tickle fic

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eggoreviews · 6 years

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My Top 10 Games of All Time

Just so I’m not talking about Smash Bros for once, here’s my top 10 games of all time that I will always think are perfect and never accept that they have flaws! Enjoy and I hope one of your faves is in here!

Probably spoilers for the games I mention under the cut

10. Kingdom Hearts II (2005)

For those of you unfamiliar with the series, Kingdom Hearts is a big weird crossover between Disney and Final Fantasy. I played this game as a kid and it was mostly exploring the Disney worlds and the really good combat system that kept me interested (I had literally no clue what was happening in the story and still kind of don’t) and I never really lost that sense of nostalgia that became attached to this game for me. And yeah I’m definitely getting Kingdom Hearts 3.

9. Life Is Strange (2015)

Life Is Strange is an emotional, cheesily written episodic series that I got into totally by accident about a teenage girl called Max who does some high school stuff and also has superpowers. What really made this game so memorable for me was the sheer emotion behind a lot of the plot and I will admit I cried several points during, which is what made the game stick with me. Plus this has one of the best soundtracks I’ve heard in a game so yeah. Go play it (and everything on this list).

8. Until Dawn (2015)

This game probably doesn’t belong here but I love it. Until Dawn follows 8 teenagers who go back to a snowy cabin where some shit went down the year before and u have to keep them all alive by making the right choices n stuff. The horror factor is good in this game, but it’s mostly the characters and how strangely attached I was to them by the end (I know they’re all tropes but I still love them). I’ve honestly lost count of the amount of times I’ve replayed this. Still probably gonna do it again.

7. Mass Effect 2 (2010)

The sequel to what is basically the space version of Dragon Age is shamefully my only exposure to the Mass Effect series, but the gameplay and characters left enough of a mark on me to give it a comfortable spot in this list. Mass Effect 2 follows Commander Shepard, overly macho space guy/gal who is a terrible flirt as he attempts to rid the universe of some massive insects. Along the way, you run into a huge cast of memorable, unique characters (and then Jacob as well) and explore a wealth of interesting and varying locations. But what really made the game stick out were the genuine lasting consequences of the frankly huge final mission; if you don’t make the right choices and buy the right upgrades, a lot of your faves are going to die.

6. Dishonored (2012)

This entry in my list is a bit cheaty, as it includes all dlc expansions from the first game as well as Dishonored 2, because all of these are just as good as each other. Dishonored puts you in the shoes of self-righteous arsehole Corvo Attano (I’m kidding btw, he’s only an arse if you make him kill everyone) as he gets framed for the murder of his lover who also happens to be the Empress, as well as the kidnap of his daughter who also happens to be the Empress’ daughter. So kind of a big deal. But all joking aside, Dishonored is one of the finest examples of the first person stealth genre, with arguably its only flaw being that it gives you a sprawling variety of fun and interesting ways to kill people and then makes you feel like a monster at the end of the game for doing it. I played this game and its sequels to death, and became especially invested in the character of Daud (who was totally butchered in Death of the Outsider. Yeah, I really wasn’t a fan of that game. Like, I love Billie Lurk and everything but what the hell were they thinking doing THAT to the Outsider?? Sorry I’m rambling)

5. Dragon Age: Origins (2009)

And now to one of the best RPGs I’ve ever played, Dragon Age is fucking amazing from start to finish. A gripping storyline, characters and companions that are impossible to forget and a combat system that’s fairly easy to get to grips with but becomes a bit of an arse later in the game. As much as I liked Inquisition (despite the fact it butchered Leliana. That’s just my hot take I don’t think anyone else thinks this, she just kind of lost that sense of fun and badassery that made her my fave in Origins. Rambling again), none of the other games in the series really matched up to the original for me.

4. Medievil Resurrection (2005)

I’ve been reliably informed that I am Bad And Naughty for loving this version of the game because it’s apparently rubbish compared to the PS1 version. But I loved this game so much as a kid that I played it to DEATH. Like more than Dishonored. The levels aren’t quite open world, but you get so immersed in them that you think they are. Honestly, I’ve never played a game with such a creative concept behind it, with humour that’s surprisingly meta for an RPG of the time, not to mention the fact that there’s a whole level devoted to carnival minigames. Are you not convinced yet? Well, you should be because Tom Baker is a voice in it and it’s coming out as a remaster for the PS4 at some point (I hope it’s soon. It’s gone eerily quiet)

3. Undertale (2015)

I know this is high for such a recent game, but it really has justified its place. I don’t care how much this game or its following has been ruined by the internet, I still hold it in the same regard I did when I first played it (and then bought all the subsequent ports because I’m a Capitalist Sheep). With an amazing narrative, some spicy retro-era graphics, memorable characters and possibly the best soundtrack I’ve ever heard in a game, there’s no way I’m ever getting sick of Undertale.

2. Dragon Quest IX: Sentinels of the Starry Skies (2009)

What sets this game apart from the other RPGs on this list was that not only did it have everything I look for in a game (amazing narrative, characters, soundtrack, game design, combat and open world) but it carried it all out with a sense of emotion I couldn’t quite put my finger on. Every single character, every single detail seemed to be something else you immediately became attached to and it all comes together to make a game so immersive I didn’t put it down for a solid 3 years, even after I’d completed it. Basically, if you own a DS, you NEED to play this. Like you will cry many times throughout this game. Sometimes happy crying (I think I just get a bit too invested in these things tbh)

Before I ramble on incessantly about my number 1 pick, here’s some of the best bois I’ve played that didn’t quite make the list:

The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild (2017) - I’m loving this game to bits so far. I’m only a recent Switch owner so I’m catching up on what I’ve missed and if this game carries on the way it is, it’s going to have to be in my top 10.

Rayman Legends (2013) - Fun, unique and memorable platformer that especially shines in couch co-op. I’ve played this one countless times and I won’t stop until Rayman gets in Smash.

The Walking Dead series (2012-2018) - One of the best sets of decision based games on the market and perfect if you’re looking for a game that tears your heart out and stomps on it!

Fallout 4 (2015) - Amazing open world, characters and combat. Well-designed, genuinely terrifying monsters. The ability to name your weapons ridiculous things. Heck yeah it’s going on this list.

Final Fantasy Fables: Chocobo Tales (2006) - A cute lil card based RPG that was a Final Fantasy spin-off no one seemed to like. But hey, I loved it and I’ll never say it’s anything other than perfect because childhood.

1. The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion (2006)

Oh my god. Ohhh my god. Where do I even begin with this one? Yes, Skyrim was amazing, but Oblivion just beats it due to a combination of a storyline I prefer (oops sorry), nostalgic attachment and a lovely set of glitches and exploits that to me make the game all the more lovable. There’s nothing I’ve played since Oblivion that’s matched the experience of wandering through a forest or one of the cities with THAT MUSIC in the background. And don’t even get me started on the quests. And that Shivering Isles DLC? Big yes. I knew this segment wouldn’t make much sense but I love the game so much that I can’t even begin to tell you all the things that make it my favourite.

Thank you for reading if you made it this far! It was just me rambling about games really but I appreciate u a lot if you made it this far. Have a good day and if you get the time, pick up one or two of the titles on this list! You bigly won’t regret it.

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mayjaymayjay · 6 years

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Title: One Percent (Part 2: Pregnancy and Birth) Word Count: 6404 Pairings: Romantic Alphyne (Alphys and Undyne), Platonic/Romantic (Could be seen as either) Papyton (Papyrus and Mettaton), Platonic Toriel/Asgore Warnings: Arguing, Lying, Major Character Death, Death, Birth, Birthing Scene, Water Breaking (Let me know if I missed anything!) Summary: Alphys and Undyne have a baby shower and things go as good as it could while Alphys holds her tongue. Author Note: Part Two of the last fanfiction I ever wrote for Undertale! Hope you enjoy!

The new MTT Resort’s restaurant was closed that day, or, rather, reserved for a special occasion that Alphys and Undyne had planned out to announce the grand reveal that the fertilization was a success and Undyne was two months pregnant.

Most of their close friends had attended, even King Asgore and the pun queen herself, Toriel made sure they would attend, even if they didn't know what it was exactly about.

Sans, on the other hand, knew immediately what it was about, but came along anyway to support them, despite the slight sense of impending doom, but he put it in the back of his skull, today was going to be a day that should be celebrated, not worried about.

Everyone had arrived, all except Frisk, who couldn't attend due to some trouble at the capital. They were the ambassador of two species, of course, they would have responsibilities to handle, even if they did want to go to the party.

The monsters were all dressed formally, which was Mettaton’s only request to rent out his restaurant, but some were more excited about the attire than others.

“Damnit,” Undyne complained, pulling at the dark red choker she wore, the golden tear-shaped pendant catching a perfect amount of light. “This necklace is really itchy.”

She wore a beautiful scarlet evening gown, that would shimmer in different angles, her hair was in a simple and semi-messy bun, just tight enough for it to stay intact, but loose enough for her to be comfortable, even her red bangs were let loose over her eye-patch. She wore black, short heels, after all, there was no way in hell that she would wear high heels, she claimed that her outfit was “girly enough” without them.

“I told you t-that necklace would be uncomfortable,” Alphys told her. “You should've gone with the pearls.”

Alphys decided to get a new dress for this momentous occasion, it was a simple blue evening gown, that had silver, tiny polka dots scattered on it, a silver bow wrapped around her waist for a finishing touch. She wore simple black flats, since she never was comfortable in heels, let alone, high heels.

“But it's like the one from Mew Mew Kissy Cutie!” Undyne argued. “It's too awesome not to wear!”

“I-if you say so,” the scientist shrugged, grabbing her wife’s hand under the table. “Are y-you nervous?”

“Nope!” The ex-royal guard squeezed her hand anyway. “What? Are you?”

“A-a l-little,” she stuttered. “I j-just don't like p-public speaking.”

“Hmm,” Undyne pondered for a moment, then turned to her wife. “How about I do the announcement, would that make you feel any better?”

Alphys nodded, then, quickly after, Undyne slipped her hand from her wife’s grip and stole a quick kiss Alphys’s head sweetly. “It's going to be okay, Alphys.”

Undyne stood up, tall, then cleared her throat to get the attention of the chattering crowd, who were presenting theories on what this gathering was about, but stopped to listen to what the elegant fish monster had to say.

“Alright,” she began, clasping her hands together. “So I bet you all are wondering why we are here and why the hell we are wearing these dumb dresses and tuxedos.”

Undyne glanced down at her protruding abdomen, then back at the crowd. “Well, last time we got together like this, we announced our engagement. I'm not sure if you would consider this better or worse, but we’re pregnant.”

The whole room enveloped in shouts of joy, while Alphys stood up and grabbed Undyne’s hand as they both grinned, the taller helping Alphys onto a chair, knowing that hugs of congratulations were necessary.

Papyrus was the first to come up, tears were clearly forming in his eye sockets. “ I cannot believe this! I'm so happy for you two, oh my God!”

Papyrus had worn a black tuxedo he had gotten with Sans and Mettaton a few months back, which Mettaton quite enjoyed to see him in. It had a golden flower on the right side and, as good as he looked in that bow tie, he decided to go with a simple black neck tie, because he didn't like the feeling of the bow tie.

“Come here ya punk!” Undyne pulled Papyrus into a noogie.

“Please don't noogie the emotional skeleton!” Papyrus exclaimed, soon escaping the grip of his best friend. He wiped a tear from his eye socket as he smiled again. “Congratulations, my dear friends.”

Papyrus leaned slightly awkwardly as he hugged both Undyne and Alphys, leaving the two afterward to go back to his table and sitting down.

Up next was Toriel and Asgore, the two had become great friends, after a year of Asgore begging for forgiveness. Toriel apologized as well, stubbornly, for the grudge and they've been good friends ever since.

They were both clothed formally, like everyone else. Toriel wore an elegant royal purple dress with a white trim, it shimmering somehow in every angle, and had long droopy sleeves. As far as footwear, she wore the same colored flats. Asgore, on the other hand, wore a simple black tuxedo, with a purple bow tie.

Toriel couldn't hold back the tears of joy and pride for the two spouses. “I could not be happier for you two. Nothing is better than the process of having a child, I wish you both the best, my children.” She wiped away another stray tear.

Asgore raised an eyebrow at his ex-wife, who had a grip on his right arm. “If I remember correctly, you acted quite miserable during your pregnancy.”

The motherly woman playfully pushed her friend. “Oh, hush, you.”

This brought a grin to Alphys, Undyne, and even Asgore himself, as they all chuckled lightly at the cute duo.

“Anyway,” Toriel looked at the two wives again, letting go of Asgore as she walked over to them for a hug. “Congratulations.”

They both hugged her back, Asgore going into a hug as well for a nice group hug. This was by far the most comforting and sweet hug they've gotten so far.

After the rather long hug, Toriel joined arms back with Asgore and returned to their table, which was right next to Papyrus’s table.

Second to last was Mettaton, wearing a black tuxedo with a hot pink bow tie wrapped around his collar, cried hysterically and ran towards the two brides, as if he hadn't seen them in years. “Oh, my gosh darlings! I'm so unbelievably happy for you two!”

They were a bit taken aback by the hug, since the force was unexpected and, quite frankly, hard, since he was made out of various types of metal, but they hugged back nonetheless.

Mettaton let go of the hug, a smile ingrained on his face, along with black tear stains along his riveted, metallic, yet, perfect cheek. “Words cannot describe my joy for you two, all I want is that the baby will be at least half as amazing as you two are, but I'm sure with your genetics, that would be nearly impossible to not happen.”

Alphys twitched slightly, but unnoticeable, at those words, “genetics”, she knew she had to tell Sans eventually, but now wouldn't be the best time.

“T-thank you, Mettaton,” Alphys stuttered, as he hugged them one last time, and went back to Papyrus’s and his table.

Last, but not least, Sans was up, wearing a simple sweater vest, white long sleeve formal shirt under it, with a light blue bow tie wrapped around his collar, and black formal pants and shoes.

“Well, I guess it worked,” Sans shrugged.

“It wouldn't have been possible without you, Sans,” Alphys replied.

“Eh, you would've found someone eventually,” he shrugged again. “Anyway, congrats, I couldn't think of anyone more deserving than you two to have children. Well, maybe one other person.”

They glanced over at Toriel and Asgore, who were laughing and joking with each other, probably reminiscing about the past and the good times. This made the trio smile.

“So, uh, Sans,” Undyne called, earning his attention. “Alphys and I have been thinking and we've decided on something.”

Alphys grabbed a hold of her hand.

“We want you to be the godparent,” Alphys completed.

“Whoa, I, uh,” he was astonished. “That caught me off-guard.”

He scratched the back of his neck but returned his gaze back to the couple. “Why me? I mean, Toriel and Asgore seem to be much more suitable to be parents than I ever would, they've had children and-”

“Sans,” Undyne interrupted. “They declined.”

“What?” Well, he definitely didn't see that coming.

“They have Frisk and, even if they didn't,” she continued. “They've had their time as parents, they're tired.”

“Man,” the skeleton sighed. “I'd be brainless to decline after that point, huh?”

“Was that a pun?” Alphys glared at him.

“You do know me, right?” He joked.

They laughed, now that was out of the way, maybe Alphys could drop a hint about the whole “one percent” ordeal.

“Hey, um,” Alphys started, getting Sans’s and Undyne’s attention, as she touched her wife’s hand. “Can you, uh, c-check on everyone.”

“Okay, sure,” Undyne shrugged and took the hint, walking off the small stage, and went over Papyrus’s table.

Alphys reverted her attention back to her skeleton friend. “S-so I have a q-question.”

“Shoot,” he replied.

“J-just out of curiosity,” she began, scratching the back of her head awkwardly. “Why were you s-so insistent on this baby not getting any of your genetic code?”

“Psychological disorders are genetic,” he answered bluntly, without any thought, like that answer was rehearsed. “I don't think anyone truly deserves one. Especially if I can help it.”

“I-I g-guess that's f-fair,” now, she was anxious.

“You seem nervous, Alphys,” he pointed out, light concern glistening in his eye sockets. He could read her so easily.

“N-no! W-why would y-you think that?” It was blatantly obvious.

“Alphys,” his voice lowered, concern was out of the question. “Is there something you wanna tell me?”

This party of joy and celebration was rapidly turning into more of a get-together of anxiety and condolences, needless to say, this was not going as well as expected. Sans was onto her, he wasn't dumb, he was outrageously smart, he just never really showed it.

“Alphys,” he gained back Alphys’s attention. “Did something go wrong with the transfer?”

She hadn't noticed it before, but the room was eerily silent, she looked over his shoulder, then grew more anxious than ever. “Sans, l-look b-behind you.”

Sans turned around, his pupil dimming out immediately. Everyone was looking at them, they had heard their conversation, and, was completely baffled. That conversation sounded a bit too fishy. Transfer?

“U-uh,” Alphys stuttered. “I, um, this sounds a bit s-suspicious, however, it's e-easily explained.”

“Alphys,” Sans called. “Just tell them the truth, they were gonna find out eventually, anyway.”

“O-okay,” she started shaking, and it wasn't because of blood sugar. “L-looking for a-a donor was more d-difficult than we thought, s-so, after much consideration, we asked S-Sans to do it.”

Most of the guest, although a bit shocked at the choice of a donor, seemed unmoved by the news, though another skeleton in the room seemed enraged.

Papyrus got up and stormed out of the room without a single word. His brother looked at Alphys, who was lost for words, then back at the crowd, they didn't have any words either. His main concern was his little brother. He ran off the stage and left the room as well.

“Papyrus!” He burst through the front doors of the resort, seeing his younger brother walking away. “Papyrus, wait!”

The tall skeleton stopped walking, just stood there as Sans caught up. Why couldn't this happen differently?

“Okay, Pap, look-”

“I don't want to hear your excuses and lies, Sans,” he snapped, now, turning towards his brother, then pointing an accusing finger at him. “Why didn't you tell me?”

“I don't know, I just,” he sighed. “I just didn't want to hurt your feelings or anything.”

“Feelings?” The angry monster quoted. “Why would my feelings be hurt? At least you would finally be telling me something!”

“Wait, that's not what you're mad about?” Sans, for once in quite a while, was puzzled.

“No! I'm angry at the fact that you never tell me anything!” Papyrus flailed his arms to emphasize his frustration. “You hide things from me all the time! Do you think I'm ignorant or something?! I'm not some little child anymore, I can handle it! I'm an adult for goodness sakes!”

Sans buffered for a second, he never really realized how much he's lied to his brother until now, how could he not have realized that? “Bro, I'm sorry, I just wanted you to not worry about me.”

“Well, you did that well,” Papyrus never thought sarcasm was a great argument or humor tool, but he didn't care about that at the moment.

Sans was a bit taken aback by the comment. “Would you rather have me complain about having a bad day or just being in a bad mood? It's more often than you think.”

“No, Sans, I just want something from you!” He exclaimed, sighed, crossed his arms, and looked away from his brother. “Do you remember when we were little, you would give me piggy back rides and tell me stories off the top of your head?”

Sans nodded.

“The stories would be different each time, but always related to your feelings for that day or just how your day was,” he stared at the ground for a second, then returned his gaze back to its original point. “I missed those fun stories, they were so… Abstract and extravagant,”

He smiled to himself, but then returned to his frown. “Then they slowly began to feel more and more forced to have a happy ending, until, finally, you just started to read me that silly book.”

Sans did remember that, if only he could remember what exactly caused that, but most of his childhood was just a blur.

“Brother, I don't know what happened, but I miss those times,” He continued. “I miss you expressing yourself in little odd ways. But most of all, I miss you. I just want my older brother back.”

The shorter skeleton stood silent, but soon began to walk towards his brother, Papyrus flinched slightly as his shorter brother hugged him. Hesitantly, he bent down awkwardly and hugged him back.

“I'm sorry, Pap,” he cleared his voice. “I just don't want to bring you down.”

“The only thing that's bringing me down is this distance,” tears beckoned to fall, but he blinked them away, the Great Papyrus mustn't cry, at least in public. “I love you, brother, I just need you to talk to me.”

“Okay, bro,” Papyrus was right, Sans hid way too many things, but he had always thought it was for the better, but what good was it doing?

The two let go of each other, Papyrus, whipping up a sincere smile. “Are we good now?” Sans asked.

“Yes, brother,” the taller brother agreed, before walking with his brother back inside.

As they went back inside the room, they could both feel the thick tension, so thick, in fact, they could probably couldn't even cut it with the knife, well, maybe Frisk was a better candidate for things such as that.

All eyes averted from Undyne and Alphys’s stuttering to the two skelebros, who were exchanging glances with each other, mentally arguing on who would be the one to explain what just happened.

“Um,” Papyrus blurted, immediately regretting doing so. “Everything is sorted out now, so we should just go back to having fun.”

“Everything is far from being sorted our, dear,” Mettaton interjected, crossing his arms. “I'm curious as to why him?”

“It wasn't anything personal, Mettaton,” Sans replied, hoping to smooth over the situation.

“I understand that I'm just curious,” he turned back to Alphys, awaiting an answer.

“W-well,” she cleared her throat, preparing herself to speak. “I never installed anything like that in your system, M-Mettaton. I-I knew Asgore would be uncomfortable with it, a-along with Undyne and m-myself, s-since he is more like a father t-to both of us. Anyway, P-Papyrus just didn't feel or seem right, since he and Undyne have a more sibling relationship. The final candidate was Sans, who was so kind to do this for us, e-even after that machine m-messed his hands up so badly.”

Sans still had scars and jagged grooves in his palms from that day, most of the wounds healed, but there are plenty still there as a constant reminder.

“I just find that reasoning difficult to understand considering Sans’s medical history,” he retorted, for someone so “understanding”, he sure acted offended.

Sans’s white pupil disappeared again as the room filled up with silence again and even more tension, both of them were unsure what to say at this point. Everyone’s darted from the short skeleton.

“That's it!” Undyne stomped her foot, stepping in front of her wife, grabbing the knife as she did so, earning back the attention of the room.“Listen here, punk. I'm growing sick of your attitude, I don't know what your problem is, but accusing my friend of some sort of-”

“Undyne, he's right,” Sans interrupted.

“Wait, what?” Undyne blurted unintentionally.

Sans interrupted, staring back at the floor with blank eye sockets. “Back when I was a teenager, I was diagnosed with clinical depression, it's not that big of a deal, everyday people and monsters deal with it every day of their lives, some, not even knowing that it's a problem they have, and they function one day at a time, just like you.”

He looked back up, this time, directly at the robot, point a finger at him as well. “I'm genuinely happy now and functional, so why don't you chill your motor, Mettaton?”

Mettaton had no comment, looking away with a scowl on his face. Sans lowered his hand and sighed. “Now, that's enough of drama for one damn night. Let's just have a good time.”

“Y-yeah!” Undyne exclaimed, trying to bring back the positive energy. “I don't know about you, but I'm ready for some awesome gifts and cake!”

Undyne succeeded, the rest of the night was uneventful as far as drama goes, everyone went back home happy and blissfully unaware of the future that was at hand.

…

“Ugh!” Undyne groaned, lounging on the couch in front of the TV, poking her abdomen. “When the hell is this damn baby coming?”

It had been almost seven-and-a-half months since the baby shower, Undyne was due a few weeks ago, but the baby didn't seem to care, sure, there were false alarms, but that's about it. The lab had a few adjustments as well, a new nursery was added, along with a couch that sat in front of the huge screen, that used to be used for security cameras to track the human, now, it had cable feature added.

The captain of the Royal Guard couldn't care less about what was on television at the moment, though. She just wanted, as she would put it, “this thing” out of her. She was tired of sitting on her rump, she wanted to train with Papyrus or just herself, but the little monster inside wouldn't let her, earning herself maternity leave from anything she considered fun.

“Should be here any day now, Undyne,” Alphys wearily answered, she was just as ready as her wife was, she needed to stop being rudely woken up to a false alarm, if she was going to be woken up, it should be for the actual thing.

Alphys walked over and handed Undyne a cup of tea, the fish lady sitting up and propping herself on her arm, to give room to her very sleep deprived bride on the couch. “That's what you always say.”

“That’s the o-only t-thing I can say truthfully,” she took a sip of her tea, she made it a tad bit too sweet, oh well. “If I c-could just magically make it happen, I-I would.”

“There is still the option for a c-section,” Undyne took a sip as well, a bit too salty this time, but she wasn't too picky.

“You rejected that option last time because you wanted to do it the ‘hardcore’ and ‘natural’ way. As you put, ‘Just how my awesome ancestors before me did it,” Alphys added air quotes, emphasizing her irritation.

“Oh yeah,” the blue-scaled creature leaned her head back, searching for an idea. “We could try searching for one of those home remedies or whatever.”

“Those never work, only make a mess,” she took another sip, yup, still too sweet. “I don't want s-screw up anything with the process either.”

“Fair point, I guess,” Undyne was tired of this, not sure if he was more tired of the conversation or the pregnancy itself.

“I-I know one thing, we need more s-sleep than what we’re getting,” Alphys definitely had a fair point there.

“Agreed,” She nodded, then took another sip of her tea, eh, it was slightly better.

Undyne slowly spun around, pushed herself backward, and laid her head on the yellow lizard-like monster’s lap, it was quite comfortable. Alphys ran her fingers gently through her love’s scarlet hair. The calming situation made the two doze off, but Alphys was rudely interrupted by a knock at the door, Undyne was always difficult to wake up.

She slipped from under her and softly made her way to the door. When she opened it, she was greeted by Sans and Papyrus, carrying gym bags in their hands.

“O-oh hey, guys,” she welcomed. “U-uh, what's g-going on?”

“We were making sure you both were okay,” Papyrus stated truthfully. “You've seemed a little… Uh…”

“Bone tired,” Sans joked, making his brother glare at him, along with Alphys. “What?”

“Nothing,” Papyrus groaned. “Anyway, we’re worried about your and Undyne's health.”

“We just haven't gotten m-much sleep because of all the f-false alarms,” Alphys rubbed her eye, trying to keep herself awake just a bit longer. “We're fine, I-I promise.

“I suppose,” the taller one sighed.

“Well,” Sans piped up. “We think we should move in temporary, ya know, to help around the place and stuff.”

"I-I appreciate the gesture, r-really I do,” she replied. “But I-I think we really are fine.”

“Obviously, you're not,” Sans bluntly said, then sighed. “Look, you two need help, I don't want to be forceful, but this is becoming unhealthy and unSANSitary.”

“Did you just make a pun with your own name?” Papyrus asked, somewhat confused.

“Yup and I'm proud of it,” Sans admitted, jokingly, then returned to his original tone. “Anyway, we just want to help you two.”

“I-I understand that, b-but-”

“Uh, Alphys,” Undyne’s voice interrupted her, making all three of them face her.

“What, now?” Alphys groaned once she turned to her wife, though, her eyes widened. Undyne was surrounded by some type of liquid.

“I think my water just broke,” Undyne was just as surprised as Alphys.

“Oh, crap!” Alphys ran over to her wife as the two skeletons did as well. “O-okay! Dammit! The closest legit monster hospital is on the surface!”

“Here's what we’re going to do,” Sans declared. “Papyrus, carry Undyne!”

“Alright!” Papyrus picked up his mentor, his arms between the underside of her knees and head and neck, with a bit of trouble since she was not only not to fond of the plan already, feeling that she looked rather weak being carried around like a princess, but she also was very heavy.

“I hate to do this, but we’re going to have to take a shortcut,” he stated.

“Are you sure that will be safe for Undyne and the baby?!” Alphys questioned.

“What other option do we have?!” He countered the question.

She stood silent.

“Everyone, hang on!” Sans commanded as everyone gripped on his jacket.

Snap!

Undyne felt a sudden jump, almost as if the force of the teleport pushed the baby further. The friends rushed into the hospital, Undyne winced as the contractions began, full force, Alphys yelled at the nurse, gaining their attention. The four were soon surrounded by nurses as Papyrus was ordered to place Undyne on a gurney, they followed her and the crowd of nurses to a maternity ward room.

“Whoa there, guys,” a female nurse stopped the friend. “Only the partner and/or the father of the patient can be with her at this time. So, who is her partner?”

“I-I am,” Alphys stuttered, the nurse raised an eyebrow.

“Really? Well, who is the father?” She asked, looking at the two skeletons.

“Technically, I am,” Sans raised his hand slightly then put it back down as he stepped forward.

“Well, this is an odd circumstance,” she placed a hand on her hip. “Anyway, enter please.”

“You're okay by yourself, right, Papyrus?” Sans asked, turning towards him before he went inside.

“The Great Papyrus can handle himself, brother!” He exclaimed proudly. “Just, please make sure Undyne is okay.”

“Will do, bro,” he nodded, then went inside, the nurse shutting the door behind him.

Alphys and Sans rushed to Undyne’s side, Alphys grabbing her hand as Undyne held back screams of pain. Sans placed his hand on top of Alphys’s hand, earning a quick glance from her, but she averted back to the situation at the time.

“Alright, Mrs. Undyne,” one of the nurses called. “Are you ready?”

“Just get on with it!” She screamed, pain prevalent in her voice, Alphys squeezed her hand in reassurance.

“I need you to push for me, alright?” The nurse gingerly told.

She did as she was told with another scream, as she squeezed Alphys’s hand, as the yellow monster quietly whimpered at the slight, sudden pain.

“You got this, Undyne!” Sans cheered. “I'm rooting for ya!”

The fish-like monster nodded as she was commanded to push again, doing the same thing once again, tears beginning to well up in her eyes, earning squeeze to her wife’s hand. This time, Alphys only winced.

“Damnit! I can't do this!” She cried, choking on her own tears.

“We didn't go through all this trouble just to give up! That isn't like you!” Sans exclaimed, slightly squeezing Alphys’s hand. “Stay determined, dammit!”

“We need another push, you're doing great!” The nurse encouraged.

She did as she was told, yet again, screaming a bit louder.

“They've breached!” The nurse exclaimed. “One, two, three!”

Undyne yelled as she pushed once again, not squeezing Alphys’s hand as hard this time, the shorter wife could tell her lover was losing her will and strength.

“U-Undyne, please!” Alphys barked. “I promised we'd work t-together, and I intend on keeping that promise, b-but you need to keep your side of the bargain! S-so don't give up and leave me!”

Sans glanced over at Alphys, but too quickly for her to notice, he felt somewhat appreciative of Alphys at that moment, though, he couldn't quite explain why exactly. The Royal Guards-woman squeezed her hand in agreement, soon ordered to push once again, and did so.

“One more strong one, okay?” The nurse coaxed. “One, two, three!”

The final push was given, along with a shout of agony from Undyne, and another piercing cry a few seconds later of the new born baby.

“It's a girl!” The nurse cheered.

Alphys smiled at her wife as tears fell down her face as Undyne did the same. She climbed up to kiss her love’s head as Sans let go and stood back from the bed, admiring the couple.

“Sans, do you want to cut the umbilical cord?” Alphys asked, turning towards him.

“Nah, you should do it, you’re her wife,” he put his hands up in defense just to put them back down.

She didn't bother to argue and walked over to do the deed. With a simple snip, she was given the baby in a small pink blanket.

The baby looked more so like Undyne, with her blue color and scales, but had a small tail trying to poke out the bottom of the blanket. She seemed so peaceful and quiet now, not to mention the most beautiful baby Alphys has ever seen, even if her opinion at that moment was a little bit biased.

“Do we have a name, yet?” The nurse asked gently and kindly, almost seeming to be a bit excited for the infant.

“Do we, Undyne?” Alphys asked, turning to her wife, who seemed to be asleep until she noticed that her chest wasn't lifting up and down. “Undyne?!”

“Take her to urgent care, now!” Two other nurses quickly grabbed the gurney and ran it out the door, as another gently took the baby from her mother, the mother willingly giving her to them, as she attempted to follow the nurse crowd, but Sans interrupted her pace with his arm in the doorway.

“Sans! Let me go!” She cried, trying to push him out of the way. “I need to go help her!”

“The nurses will help her!” He replied, adding more force as she did the same thing.

“But she needs me! She needs…” she weakened her fight until she stopped completely. “She needs… me.”

The skeleton shifted over to hug her as she sobbed hysterically into his shoulder. “You're going to be okay. They're doing everything they can.”

“Why aren't you telling me she's going to be okay?” She whimpered. “I know I will, why can't you say that about her?!”

“Alphys…” He tightened the hug as she sobbed harder.

“W-what just happened?” A sudden, shaky voice asked as Sans looked up to meet the eye sockets of his brother. “Why was Undyne rushed somewhere?”

“I… I don't know,” he answered honestly. “They are going to do everything they can, whatever it's for.”

“I h-hope she'll be okay,” Papyrus stuttered, he was just as worried as everyone.

“Me too, Pap,” Sans agreed.

Sans let go of Alphys as she did the same but quickly gripped his arm like a clingy, nervous child would to their parent during a bad thunderstorm. Then, they made their way outside of the room and sat on the floor, leaning against the wall.

The royal scientist eventually fell asleep on Sans shoulder, finally getting the sleep she needed, and snoring quietly.

“Do you really think Undyne is going to be okay?” Papyrus whispered, not even facing his brother, his gaze seemed as if it was off somewhere else in the universe.

“I honestly don't know, bro,” he replied. “All we can do right now is hope.”

Silence pierced the room.

“Sans,” Alphys called, causing him to turn his head her direction. “Remember when Undyne and I told you that we wanted you to be the godparent if anything happened to either of us?”

“Yeah,” Sans replied, he knew where this was going,

“Good,” she didn't proceed the conversation further, she knew the Sans knew what she meant.

Seconds felt like minutes, minutes felt like hours, hours felt like days until the nurse finally came out of that room, distress drawn all over her face. She removed her surgical gloves and mask as the three friends stood up in the sight of her.

“I need Mrs. Alphys and Mr. Sans to come with me, please,” she motioned back over to that horrible room.

Sans looked back at his brother, who placed a hand reassuringly on his shoulder, then sat back down. The shorter brother got the message and followed the nurse, alongside Alphys, who was trembling in fear and anticipation.

Upon entering, they were instantly flooded by the smell of a mixture of fluids and unkept tools that were defiantly overdue for a cleaning. Presented in front of them was a table that had been covered by a thin, yellow-white sheet, surrounded by the same nurse from before, who all shared the same look: failure.

Once the two stood feet from the table, the nursed gingerly pulled back the sheet to reveal a small pile of dust. Alphys screamed as Sans simply starred in shock. How could this possibly happen to Undyne the Undying? Sure, Sans thought about this happening, but he never would've fully accepted it as a possible reality.

“N-no!” Alphys shook her head as she covered her mouth in shock, feeling both nauseous and emotionally disturbed. “T-that's not her, i-is it?! I-it can't be!”

The head nurse turned her head away in disgrace.

“No. No. No! No! It's not her!” She began to look around, forcing herself to laugh. “C-come on, Undyne! This i-isn't f-funny anymore! Joke’s over!”

“Alphys,” the skeleton muttered, reaching a hand out to touch her shoulder, but it was quickly slapped away as she turned back to him.

“N-no! Don't act like s-she's dead! She isn't!” She was in full denial. “She c-can't be! S-She has to come back, b-because she promised s-she wouldn't leave!”

“Alphys, please, I know that this is difficult to accept,” he said, in some odd attempt to calm her down. “But she's gone.”

“B-but she promised,” she said in a voice almost as soft as a whisper. “S-she p-promise she w-wouldn't leave. S-she did.”

Sans pulled her into another hug, she didn't hug back, she simply stood there in silence, as he forced his eyes shut and his tears back.

“S-she promised s-she would never leave m-me,” she whimpered before eventually hugging her friend tightly and sobbed into his shoulder.

“Sometimes promises like that can't be kept,” he somehow got out without enveloping into sobs as well, he knew that too well.

“S-sir,” the nurse called. “I'd like to inform you two that I would like to help in any way that I can, I know how hard it can be to lose someone close to you, so please let me assist you in any way I can.”

At first, Sans was angered by her interruption but then had an idea. “Alphys, did you hear that?”

“Y-yeah,” she managed to let out.

“Do you want to go with her while I go talk to Pap?” He asked, letting go of her as she slowly did the same.

Alphys wiped away her tears and nodded, much like a child who had just gotten teased by a bully and comforted by her caring parent. She then walked over to the nurse and was escorted to a room next to the operating room they used to be in.

Sans walked out the room and down the hall, Papyrus, tearing his gaze from the wall across the hallway that he had been sitting in since the doctors went to the operating room to attempt to bring back Undyne.

“H-how is she?” The tall skeleton stuttered, standing up as Sans stood in front of him. “Is she okay?”

“I uh,” he tried to find the right words but only stammered. “I don't know how to tell ya, Pap. This is… This is a lot harder than I thought it would be.”

“I-I understand,” Papyrus interrupted Sans’s thoughts, his voice shaky, but then clearing it afterward. “She's gone, isn't she?”

“I'm sorry, bro,” Sans apologized. “If I just declined when Alphys asked me to help, this wouldn't have happened.”

“Sans, this isn't your fault,” he boldly stated. “If they had gotten any other donor, this would've happened either way. She w-would've… Would’ve…”

He covered his mouth, as tears flooded from his eye sockets, then falling to his knees. “Oh, God…”

Sans hugged his brother while Papyrus returned the embrace and sobbed into the shorter brother’s shoulder while he repeated her name over and over again, taking in ever syllable, along with every pleasant memory that went with it until the very last moment.

“It's going to be okay, Pap,” Sans tried to comfort him. “I… I promise.”

The two brothers finally let go, Sans grabbing Papyrus’s shoulder as they did so, forcing his brother to look at him in the eye sockets.

“What I'm about to request you is going to be hard, but I really need you to do it, okay?” He asked.

“O-okay,” the younger brother stuttered, wiping away his tears.

“I'm gonna need you to stay with Alphys while I help with the baby, I don't want her to do anything she may regret,” he told him. “Just until Mettaton comes back from tour, it should only be a week or so.”

“I'll do it,” he nodded, his voice now devoid of emotion.

“Thanks, bro,” Sans quickly hugged him. “I'll be back, I need to see the baby.”

“Where's Alphys?” He questioned.

“She's in the room next to the operating room, she's talking to the nurse that helped us earlier, she said she would help her,” he answered.

“Okay,” Papyrus stood back up, he even walked with no emotion, that kind, innocent, and positive brother was gone, and Sans wasn't too sure if he was ever coming back.

Sans shook his head of his thoughts and walked down the hallway, this time, he was on his way to the nursery.

As he walked down the corridor, many monsters passed, some in worse condition than others, but, in this very moment, he shared some emotions as they did, and he felt that which he didn't quite feel very often. He felt the anxiety, anticipation, worry, and some with sadness and anger as well, all of it, they were shared with him and other monsters at the hospital, for once in a long time, he felt that he could relate to another monster about how he felt. Though this definitely wasn't the place to feel relatable, in fact, he wished it was the least relatable place.

Sans was snapped out of his thoughts when he stood in front of the nursery. He had observed that the hospital was very outdated and this wasn’t any exception. Regardless of observations, Sans had a mission: to make sure the baby was there safe and sound. He took a look inside of it, peering through the gigantic panel of windows. There was the baby, sleeping quietly, she looked just like Undyne.

Sans smiled, though, it was a sad smile, it was a happy one too.

The baby woke up, with a small yawn, it looked up at Sans and giggled, this made him laugh a little bit until he examined her eyes. Her eyes were mostly normal, except for the blueish tint in her left eye. The skeleton was right, Alphys couldn't avoid natural genetic code.

End of Part II

#undertale #undertale fanfiction #sans #alphyne #sans undertale #alphys #papyrus undertale #undertale papyrus #undertale sans #undertale alphys #undertale undyne #undyne undertale #alphys undertale #undyne #sad #angst #death #major character death

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sansfangirl4life-blog · 6 years

Text

Remnants Part 1

So...this is a short story based off some art my friend ReineofAbberants on DeviantArt did :3 This is post Pacifist Undertale btw. :3 Do enjoy!!!!

Remnants

He curled tighter on his messy bed, gripping at himself as the very shadows seemed to grip at him. No....nononononononono go away...y...you're....

"Come now...." A voice whispered, the sound like bubbling tar and death whispered against his skull. He covered his head as the shadows curled around him. Large, thin, bone white hands gripped at his shaking shoulders. "You know what to do..."

No....no you're dead.....dead! Leave....leave me be..... He gripped his skull tighter, scratching at it and leaving marks. You....you're gone...

"Gone? Oh...my dear Sans...." He shivered as his name was spoken and he felt a hand trail his spine. "I am never gone...you cannot be rid of me..." A face loomed from the dripping shadows, blank at first, but features seemed to crack on the surface, a twisted smile and one, wide eye. "I will have you...."

"NO!!!" Sans's eyes snapped open, his left eye aflame and glowing as he shot up, his chest heaving painfully. He gripped his chest as his breaths came in harsh pants. His Soul glowed slightly from under his plain white t-shirt. A....a dream.....bad dream..... He thought and looked down at his trembling hands. Right....surface.....no more Resets....safe.... He slowly moved and placed his socked feet on the floor, burying his face in his hands. He can't come here....he isn't here..... He stood and grabbed his blue hoodie and slipped on his pink slippers, small white eyelights gazing out the window. Been six months.....

He stretched and opened the window to his room, a cool, summer breeze filtering into his trashy room. His mattress was new, but still laying on the floor, fresh sheets on the bed, crinkled from his tossing and turning. He sighed and looked up at the moon shining brightly in the sky. I need some fresh air...yeah. That'll help. He teleported out of his room, unaware of the shadows that had slowly moved towards his feet.

Soon, my dear Sans......soon.

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Frisk looked at Sans worriedly as he walked with their small group. Frisk had invited everyone to go to the park and he looked at Sans as the shorter skeleton seemed to slump. "Are you ok Sans?"

"H-Huh?" Sans turned to him, dark circles under his eye sockets. "Yeah kiddo, I'm 'Sanssational.'"

"Oh my god Sans!" Papyrus called from the front of the group. "Enough of your insufferable puns!" Frisk giggled and Sans smiled. Undyne was ahead with Alphys on her shoulders, Toriel smiling and patting Papyrus as he groaned from yet another pun.

"Sorry Paps." Sans yawned and stretched lazily. Frisk gave Sans a worried glance and he chuckled. "Aww, don't worry kiddo. I'm just being my usual, lazy se-"

"Sans...." He locked up as a soft, gentle voice rang in his skull. "Look...this human has the Determination I need..."

No....no you're....not here....

"Sans?"

"Oh come now, my dear Sans.....did you truly think I was some bad dream?" Frisk took Sans's hand worriedly and he jumped a bit, yanking his hand away. "Look at him....I need it Sans..."

No...get out...of my head!!!

"Sans, are you really ok?" Sans's head snapped up and he looked at Frisk. The small boy tilted his head, and for a brief moment, Sans watched soft, brown eyes flicker red and the world around him shifted into that long, golden corridor. "You don't look good...."

"I...I'm f-"

"You see it, don't you Sans? This child could, at any time....become a threat...." Sans trembled, his bones shaking as his left eye slowly began to glow. "But we can stop that....stop this child from Resetting this world...permanently."

"Sans, you're hurting me!" Sans blinked and he looked down, his hand gripping hard onto Frisk's small shoulder. Black tendrils had coiled around his wrist, but they swiftly evaporated in the summer sun. "Sans....you really don't look good. Do you need to go home?" Sans shook a bit as the others watched him from a distance. "Sans-"

"Yeah....sorry kiddo." Sans pat his head gently, his hands trembling. "I...I just need some sleep ok?" Frisk nodded and smiled. "See ya later, alright?" He focused on teleporting, but the moment he felt his body enter the Void, something black and tar like grabbed his leg. Wh-what?! No!

"Do not try to flee from me Sans....."

Get off of me!!!! Sans struggled in the darkness of the Void, panic filling his Soul. Damn...damn! Fearfully he reached for a small opening in the Void and fell into it, crashing hard into the wall. He scrambled and kicked at the writhing tentacle that had grabbed him, watching it squirm and flail before fizzing away. "Gross....just....yuck..." He sighed and stood shakily, brushing his shorts off and looking around. Hey...wait....

He walked over to the nearby wall and flipped the switch. The light flickered on, dim from not being used in a long time. "My....lab?" Sure enough, the room around him was one he knew all too well. He dragged his fingers along the desk, dust sticking to bone as some fluttered in the air. "So I'm in Snowdin." He took a shaky breath and zipped his hoodie up. "It's cold here...chilled to the bone, eh?" He chuckled a little, trying to calm his nerves.

He brushed the dust off of an old blueprint that was sitting on the desk, they symbols strange but easily discernable by him. "Why here? Why did I teleport here?"

"Because I need you here." Sans jumped and turned around, his eye flaring. The wall near him held a tall, shadowy shape, a left purple eye glowing with fury and malice. The shadow itself seemed to drip onto the floor. "I need you Sans...."

"Screw you!" Sans raised his hand and fired at the wall, bones piercing it. The shadow chuckled, the sound reverberating through the small room. Sans covered his head as the shadow vanished from his sight. "What do you want?!"

"Come now, my dear Sans..." Sans felt hands slide on his shoulders and he spun around, aiming a bone at the wall, only to pierce the air. "You know exactly what I want....only now I have an additional...requirement." Sans felt something wrap around his wrists and ankles, lifting him into the air. The shadow merged from the wall, a white face grinning and looking down at him. "I require the human."

"I'll rot in Hell before I let you lay one damned finger on his head!" Sans snapped. He tried to summon a Blaster, but a tendril shot out, shattering it instantly. Shit!

"Heh, coming from one of the laziest monsters in the entire Underground? Oh how you've changed Sans..." Hands appeared and forced Sans to look up into the figure's singular, purple eye. "You used to be so filled with hope and life....then after the atrocious crime you caused-"

"No! That was all you!" Sans snarled, baring his teeth angrily at the figure. "I won't let-mmmph!!!!!" Tendrils wrapped tightly around his mouth, and his left eye flared with fury.

"So rude to interrupt." The figure chuckled, but there was no humor in its tone. "However it turned out....I was cursed into that pit of darkness." Sans struggled as the figure moved towards the curtained, broken machine at the end of the room. Fear filled his bones and he struggled more, his Soul glowing brightly in his chest. "I have seen things you can only imagine my dear Sans....things you would never wish to see."

Sans managed to break free when bones shot from the ground, destroying the tendrils. The curtain blew off, a dim black glow coming from the large, glass structure. Sans got to his feet in a vain attempt to run, but tendrils shot out, tripping him up. "I have gained a sort of....control over the Void. But I cannot interact with the worlds and timelines I have born witness to." Sans dug his fingers into the tiled floor, struggling as he was dragged. Blood leaked from his fingertips as he clawed desperately at the floor. More tendrils shot out, some gripping the edges of his eye sockets, others covering his mouth before he had the chance to scream. "But I learned something...interesting. There was one being I could interact with...aside from that little boy."

Sans was yanked hard, his fingers releasing their death grip on the floor as he was thrown inside the large, glass machine. He slammed against the machine, his screams blocked by the thick glass. The figures face split into a large grin, his head tilting at an unnatural angle. "That those with even the tiniest shard of my scattered Soul.....can be used. Isn't that a wonderful coincidence, my dear Sans?" A finger pressed a large, red button and the figure moved into the machine as it whirred to life. "Now then....shall we?"

The large machine sparked and groaned as Sans felt a tar like substance slowly engulf his body. He struggled against it, his eye lights filled with unbridled horror. Sans let out a loud scream...…

.........But nobody came.

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"Do not worry tiny Frisk!" Papyrus smiled as they headed home, the sun setting behind them. "I am quite positive that Sans is ok!"

"I dunno Pappy...I mean, he didn't look really good...." Frisk mumbled, wringing his hands anxiously. Toriel placed a gentle paw on his shoulder, giving him a warm smile. "Mama..."

"It will be alright Frisk. We've only been on the Surface for half a year...perhaps he is just exhausted." Toriel's gentle voice soothed the worry in Frisk's Soul and he suddenly felt himself being lifted into the air, placed in a choke hold and noogied. "Undyne!"

"Ngaaahh! Don't you worry about that lazy sack of bones Friskster!" Undyne said, grinning. "I'm sure he just didn't wanna walk around!"

"I-I-I don't know U-Undyne..." Alphys pointed out worriedly. "H-He had been looking and acting odd lately....I-I agree with Frisk here...." Frisk was put down and Alphys hugged him. "B-But if Sans wasn't well.....Papyrus w-w-w-would have made him stay home."

"That is right! I am very good at telling when my brother is more lazy than normal!" Papyrus pounded his chest proudly. They opened the door and entered the living room, only to be greeted by Sans standing there. "Sans! Why are you not in bed?!"

"Aww, maybe he felt guilty for leaving?" Toriel smiled a little as they all walked further into the living room. Sans remained motionless, his face looking downward. "Sans?"

"....You're back a bit early...." Sans's voice was low and quiet, and it made Frisk shudder slightly.

"W-W-well Frisk was worried about you!" Alphys said. "S-So-"

"He was....that's nice..." The group moved a little closer to Sans, curious and worried. "Makes this...easier."

"Sans?" Black sludge dripped onto the ground and he looked up at Frisk. "Guys! Mo-" Tendrils shot out from under Sans's feet and slammed against the group, sending them flying to separate corners of the room. "No!" Frisk went to run after them when sharp, black, dripping bones formed around him like a cage.

"And where do you think you are going?" The voice seemed to echo from Sans, but he didn't show signs of speaking. "I need you, little human child...."

"Who are you?! You're not Sans!" Frisk narrowed his eyes, his red Soul glowing in his chest. "What do you want?!"

"Rather observant....and that face of yours shows your Determination easily, if the glow of your Soul did not." Sans floated softly off the ground as he moved closer to the cage. "However....you are wrong. I am Sans.....and he is me."

"Sans!" Sans tilted his head and moved aside with ease as a blue spear shot out.

"Hmph, Undyne...his memories show that you are quite the strong monster..." Sans floated backwards and looked up at her. His left eye glowed and flashed, rows of bone forming in front of her. She dodged and hopped on the couch, leaping off of it with a spear in her hand. "But you are arrogant." A tendril came at her side and coiled around her tightly and she grit her teeth, struggling to break free. "And a fool."

"Sans, let the human go!" Sans turned his head to see Papyrus looking at them with worry. For a moment, Sans hesitated before another tendril coiled around Papyrus, lifting him high up as well. "Brother pl-"

"Papyrus....he truly does care for you." A low, gurgling laugh made its way from Sans's throat as his right eye seemed to bleed with black sludge. "A pity he is not awake right now..."

"L-Let them-" Alphys was grabbed before she could reach for a small remote, the device being crushed as it was tossed against a wall.

"Ah, Alphys." Before he could finish speaking, a fire pillar formed in front of him and he took a step back. "Well..." He turned and his grin widened, head tilting. "Your Majesty....it is an honor."

"You...I do not know who you are or what you want, but you will release my child and my family!" Toriel's face was pulled into a snarl, fire swirling around her feet and engulfing her right hand. She screamed and flung flames at the cage around Frisk and rushed at Sans, both hands engulfed in flames. "RELEASE THEM!" She halted when Frisk was held in front of him, a ghostly white hand around Frisk's neck, squeezing tight. "Frisk-"

"I do not need the human in perfect condition, your Majesty." Sans grinned, another hand petting Frisk's head. "So go on ahead....I have never seen flames melt skin from muscle and bone." Toriel faltered long enough for a tendril to coil tightly around her, snuffing the flames from her hands.

"Mom!" Frisk struggled as his family were slammed hard on the ground. "No! No, stop it!" Tears streamed down his face as he watched the others get constantly slammed on the ground. "Please...please stop....stop...."

"Then you will come with me." Their limp bodies were lifted and sharp, black bones were positioned in front of their chests, each of their Souls shining before it. "Or I will wipe them out, one at a time." Frisk sobbed as Sans threw them all towards the other end of the living room, his left eye glowing. "We are leaving."

"F..Frisk....." Toriel struggled to sit up as Frisk reached for her, tears streaming down his cheeks as Sans's tight grip prevented him from moving.

"Mommy! MOMMY!!!" Frisk screamed as they both vanished, leaving the monsters alone in the house.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Toriel and Papyrus went to work healing everyone's injuries. "What the hell is wrong with that stupid skeleton?!" Undyne pounded her fist against the carpet.

"Why I'm gonna-"

"I told you Undyne! That was not Sans!" Papyrus snapped, his fingers shaking. "It...it wasn't...there's no way...."

"Papyrus, sweetie, please calm down." Toriel said, her own voice shaking. "Let's focus on this right now."

"L-look at yourself M-Miss Toriel..." Alphys said. "You're st-t-ill hurt and-"

"I am fine." She said, finishing healing the small monster. "And I believe you Papyrus. Sans would never act that way. Something wasn't right."

"I don't give a shit who that was, I'm gonna-"

"Language please Undyne."

"Why the hell are you scolding me for that?! That stupid skeleton or whoever it was took Frisk!" She snapped, standing up and brushing her shoulders slightly.

"We have no idea where they went or what that...whoever wanted!" Alphys fidgeted where she stood, holding her tail. "Alph? Something wrong?"

"I-I...I may....have an idea....b-b-but...it's far fetched and....and I'm not certain..." Alphys admitted, trembling.

"Alphys, anything to help find my brother would be greatly appreciated!" Papyrus chimed in, walking over to her. Undyne placed a hand on her shoulder, Toriel on the other.

"Go ahead dear. What is it?" Alphys took a deep breath and nodded.

"S-Sans t-t-told me of someone once....s-someone he was...nervous about." Alphys said softly. "I-I don't remember him exactly....but Sans described to me what....what he can do....how he acts and speaks....." She sighed. "And...he would know the former Queen..."

"Alph, it's alright. You can tell us." Undyne smiled and she took another deep breath.

"His name was W.D. Gaster....well...Doctor W.D. Gaster. The former Royal Scientist."

#undertale #postpacifist #gaster #sans #toriel #frisk #papyrus #alphys #undynexalphys #fanfiction #sansfangirl4life

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roses-shadow · 3 years

Text

Underworld part 1

Ok, so, as a preface: this fic is finished. I’m posting it in parts and putting in a long A/N at the end so I can go ‘didja see? didja see what I did thar????’

Vague summary: Nero’s adventure in Undertale, the DMC version. Or where Nero screams at everything and says ‘fuck’ a lot. PG 13

Posting this on 15 Sept 2021, cause of Undertale coming out on this day a few years ago. Probably have a few mistakes here and there; I tried.

******

Nero groaned, coming out of unconsciousness slowly.

He was aware enough to know that he was lying on his back but not on the familiar sheets of his bed. Still disoriented, he grabbed his head, gradually pushing himself out of his prone position and into a groaning hunch over his knees and tried to blink the black spots out of his eyes.

The ground he was eventually able to focus on between his legs was a field of dirt tinted a weird red color, definitely not something he was used to seeing in his everyday life of grey asphalt, green grass, brown dirt and other normal things he’d encounter on the ground.

“Wha...?” he said bewildered.

He raised his head to see that he was surrounded by a wide circle of red rose filled hedges. To his right there was an opening in the circle that led off to a path further surrounded by more of the hedges that led off to who knows where.

His first thought was, of course, ‘Where the hell am I?’ quickly followed by, ‘Is this a prank?’ and, ‘Did I get kidnapped?’ Because, sure, he did have his fare share of hazing by the other kids who made fun of his hair and just liked to be jerks in general but he didn’t think he’d be knocked out and dragged away somewhere. Especially since he was drawing a blank on how exactly he got here.

He didn’t think he was drugged; sure, he still felt woozy but not in the I’m-going-to-throw-up way and his head didn’t physically hurt, especially with his weird healing thing speeding things along. It was just...like he was drained, like he just ran a marathon and woke up right after passing out.

Hell, considering it seemed like he was stuck in a maze he was probably a lucky contestant for some guy’s video. Meaning that yes, it probably was a stupid prank that doubled with people laughing at his expense. Just to be spiteful, he flipped his finger into the air for any cameras hidden away in the bushes watching him suffer.

Man, was his mom was going to flip when she found out what happened to him.

Nero huffed out a breath, rocking back off his knees to sit down properly and bumping his back into something hard. He turned around quickly, finding a stone fountain containing a long coiling white plant. As he tilted his head up farther, however, he realized it was a moving plant, tendrils at the top twisting around a red hazy cloud and snaking in and out to hover in the air.

And that put a lot of doubt on him being pranked because what in the actual fuck was he looking at?

As Nero blinked up at the weird fever-dream plant his mind must have thought up in his confused state, one of its tendrils suddenly sprouted a long needle-like thorn and shot down toward him.

Nero gasped and only had enough time to throw up his right arm as protection as he instinctively curled away. “Fuck!” he cried out as the thorn punctured his forearm, the pain making his arm spasm, “Oh holy fuck!”

He jerked his arm away, trying to dislodge the thorn but it was firmly stuck inside. He started panting heavily as he reached over with his other hand and tried to grip onto the thorn, hissing as he sliced his hand as he staggered his arm farther up until he finally found purchase to pull it out at the far end with a forceful yell. He rolled backwards in the same movement as the thorn came free, gripping his arm to put pressure on the wound as he skittered farther backwards toward the hedge wall.

“What the fuck,” he panted out, staring up at the murderous plant in horror. There was no way this could be happening. It was just a bad dream –a really, really, realistically painful dream that he was hallucinating because crazy tentacle death plants do not exist.

He watched as more tendrils unsheathed their thorns and panicked. Dream or not, those thorns would still hurt. He looked toward the opening in the maze and stumbled to his feet.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

He took off at a run, dodging the thorns that attacked where he was last standing. He was ready to dive through the exit when he had to stagger to the side as three tendrils blocked the way, their thorns positioned to stab him right in his front. “Shit!” he cried, shuffling back as he tried to find another way out. But he was pretty much cornered, the thorns surrounding him slowly closing off his available space to run.

“Oh shit, oh no, oh no, no, no, no, no, no. This is not happening!” He couldn’t die here! He didn’t even know where here was! He closed his eyes and curled in on himself. “You’re dreaming,” he stated firmly to himself. “This is a dream. Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!”

But rather than wake up safe and sound in his bed, or worse, being stabbed to –a dream! –death by said death plant from hell, he instead felt an intense heat made of blue light pass right by him. When he finally decided to peek an eye open and squint upwards he watched in amazed disbelief that the hell plant tendrils were calmly retreating back to its fountain and sheathing their thorns, placidly hovering in place once more.

“Wha...?”

Languid footsteps made him turn to the maze entrance to see the shadow of an actual human being idly twirling a cane back and forth coming down the path. The first thing Nero saw was the shoulder length white hair so that when the figure came close enough for him to make out the youthful face it was attached to he took a double take. The man planted his cane into the dirt and looked Nero up and down.

“I went to the Garden of Love, and saw what I never had seen.”

And just what was that supposed to mean? Nero gave the man an incredulous look. “Uh...what?” he moaned out in pained confusion.

He stayed huddled in his crouch as the man started to circle him. “I pass through here every day yet I’ve never had a human just appear before. Well,” he paused, looking over at the murder plant. “Unless they’ve been...eaten before I make my rounds here. I would have noticed the leftover pollen, however.”

Nero, still in deep denial of his whereabouts and wondering if he had come across a crazy psychopath, blurted out in a harsh whisper, “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

The man carried on despite the interruption. “But where are my manners. I am the caretaker of this garden and to my family home beyond this place. You may call me V.” He drew his cane arm across his chest and fell into a deep bow. “And who might you be?” He looked up with a wide smirk.

What kind of name was that? Not a name, that’s what. Nero hesitated for a long moment, debating whether he should come up with a fake name himself but not actually able to force his brain cells away from the near –dream! – death experience he just had. “Uh...Nero?”

V raised his eyebrow. “Nero? What an...interesting name choice, considering the lovely shade of your hair.” As if he was one to talk, the hypocrite; it was just like his. “Well, tell me Nero, how have you come to find yourself in this place?” He gestured one-handed into the air.

Nero licked his lips, suddenly nervous. “I –I don’t know. I was just –in my room?” Was he? He wasn’t actually sure now that he thought about it. “I think? I don’t remember.” He paused to dry swallow and meekly ask, “Am I in wonderland hell or something?”

“Ah,” V paused, giving a secretive smile. “I suppose you could say that.”

“Ok. Right.” He took a split second to process. “I wanna go home,” he blurted out decisively.

V had a sardonic smile on his face. “Do you now? Unfortunately for you, the way back to your home is a...long ways off, I’m afraid,” he said in what Nero considered an ominous tone.

Long ways off how? Nero was tired of this dream. He very much wanted to wake up now.

V gestured to his still sluggishly bleeding arm with his cane. “You seem to have taken quite the damage there. Here,” he paused, digging something out of his pocket. “Eat this, it will help stop the bleeding.”

He was holding out what looked like a piece of green candy and Nero went, nope. Don’t take candy from strangers. He’d probably end up drugged and fed right back to the hell plant –that existed purely in his imagination, of course, and by that logic if he died in his dream he’d probably just die in real life too. So no, he’d rather take his chances.

V raised an eyebrow after Nero continued to not do anything. “What’s wrong? Do you not trust me? Hm, well,” he paused, lowering his arm. “Will you allow me to bandage you up instead, then?”

Nero took a moment to process. He always had weird healing as a kid and eventually he’d be as good as new in no time.

In the mean time, however, his arm decided to keep on radiating pain and bleed through the gaps of his fingers.

“Yeah, ok,” Nero quickly decided, nonchalantly, he hoped. He didn’t want to sound that painfully desperate.

“Good.” V suddenly whipped out a long piece of white cloth like a magician, except it was more impressive considering he didn’t have any sleeves. That was dream logic for him. “If you could just hold out your arm?”

Nero held his arm out and allowed to V to quickly wrap up the cloth around it multiple times, tying it tightly enough to apply enough pressure to compress the wound, his blood slowly staining through the cloth.

“There, that should do for now,” V said, tying up the ends of the cloth. He brought out the candy from before and dropped it into his hand anyway. “Here, you can hang on to this if you do start to feel faint. One should be good enough.”

Nero frowned down at it. He was still reluctant to eat it, but after V was kind enough to wrap up his arm he didn’t want to be rude and throw it away. He shoved it into his pocket instead.

“If you will allow me to escort you to my home and offer you proper food and shelter? I can assure you it is a safe haven from the dangers you can encounter in this place.”

Not having any other option, and definitely not wanting to have to deal with the murderous hell plant again, Nero agreed. “Yeah...ok, thanks.”

“Excellent,” V said, planting his cane down. “Before we leave though, I’d like to give you another gift.”

He walked close to the hell plant, rustling around until he came back with a broken off branch and offered it to him. Nero, still leery about his near-death experience, leaned away.

“It’s alright. It’s perfectly harmless like this. If you keep this with you it will ward off the Qliphoth from attacking you again.”

He demonstrated by waving it at the –what did he call it again? –hell plant, the vines all leaning away from it by his command.

Oh. Ok. Cool. He had a magic stick to stop the hell plant from eating him. That was good. Nero accepted the stick more easily.

“Now, let us be off.” he said, leading the way out of the maze of hedges and onto a more open path.

This place was weird. Nero was looking from side to side, taking in all the strange structures. There were old pillars set up every now and then making everything look something like it came from a different era but with an aged look, the growth of vines making it appear that he was walking through some old ruins. V stopped them from moving for some reason, making Nero look at him questioningly.

“Down here, in the Underworld, we have to find ways to pass the time. Most like to challenge others to battle, which is engaging, I’ll admit. But for those who are more suited to higher thought, we have puzzles. We’ve had plenty of time to hone them that we are able to use them to safeguard doorways in addition to their regular diverting fun. Take this one for example.”

There was a statue of a female in the center of the field, the expression on her face was sad, mournful. At least, that was the general impression Nero was getting from her eyes as her mouth was busy holding onto a glowing yellow orb.

Far beyond that were three separate doors fitted with a big fancy lion sculpture acting as a door knocker. The doors were all set up at the ends of different paths, each framed with their own arch to precede their paths. The left arch had a weird lumpy sparkling gold rock attached to it, while the right arch had a shining curved bone like stick on it. The one in the center didn’t have any weird jewelry attached to it and was completely dark.

V gestured to the clearing in front of him. “Solve my riddle, child: When the night comes, I’ll go to places fit for woe, walking along the darken’d valley, with silent Melancholy.”

Nero gave him a blank look. “What?”

V gave a quiet sigh with a sardonic look on his face. “Would you like for me to explain how this puzzle operates or would you like to attempt to work it out yourself?”

Considering Nero had no idea what the hell his riddle meant and didn’t want to use any of his brain power on it, he put his vote on getting a free pass through. “Yeah, I’ll...uh, pass.”

V sighed again. “Very well.” He pointed past Nero to the statue with his cane. “That there is the Melancholy Soul. You take that key and insert it into the lion’s mouth down the darkened path in the center. If you were decidedly brave or foolish enough to try the sun or moon lit paths instead you would face a...most unpleasant encounter,” he finished darkly with a smirk.

“Right.” He was glad V was willing to put up with him and explain rather than let him blindly walk into disaster. He awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. “So, uh, can we keep going now?”

“Of course,” V agreed. He gave Nero a significant look, raising his eyebrows a little. “Why don’t you take the soul and go insert it into the lion’s maw, child.”

Nero felt a spark of irritation. He didn’t know if V was doing it on purpose, but it felt like he said it condescendingly, having to prompt Nero into action like a kid. But he didn’t quite want to cause waves over something he wasn’t sure was deliberately patronizing.

He huffed, stomping over to the statue and grabbing onto the orb, forcing out of the mouth with a little tugging and continuing to march on down the path to the door.

He considered the very realistic lion head with its very, very sharp looking teeth and the spot he was clearly meant to fit the orb in its not-so-wide mouth. A stray thought ran through his head, ‘It’s not going to like, chomp down on my arm, is it?’

V did say that it’d be unpleasant if he picked the wrong door and he couldn’t help but wonder...was this a trap?

And now that that thought was in his head he wasn’t sure if he was ok with actually putting his hand inside if he didn’t know if he’d still have it when he pulled it back out.

V came up behind him when he failed to do anything. “Something wrong?”

“Um.” So he could either admit he wasn’t sure if he wanted to stick his hand inside or just deny it and continue to do nothing.

V looked between him and the door, immediately understood his dilemma. “Ah.” He took the orb out his hand and placed it inside the lion himself. It made a clicking noise. He pressed on the door and it swung open.

Huh. Guess he didn’t have anything to worry about after all.

“Come along, Nero,” V said as he passed through the door.

Nero hunched up self-consciously. “R-right.”

***

“There is another puzzle in this area,” V said out of nowhere as they walked along. “Are you able to solve it, I wonder?” V gave him a wide smirk.

Nero scowled. There wasn’t any puzzle he could make out from where he was standing. Was he just messing with him to make him think something was there when there really wasn’t? Whatever. He’d call his bluff.

Nero stomped past V down the path, still seeing nothing out of the ordinary. He was about to keep going before he abruptly felt V’s cane clamping down on his shoulder and preventing him from taking another step. The cane yanked him backwards and he stumbled a bit.

“What was that for?”

V only pointed to the ground in front of him. “Do you see those small holes?”

Nero squinted into the dirt. “...Yeah?”

“There are...tendrils that are wont to come out and latch on to you if you get too close.”

Tendrils? What did he mean by that? Did he mean the hell plant or something else? “Like, it’ll...tie me down and keep me from moving tendrils?”

“Hmm, yes.”

Nero furrowed his brow. So what was the big problem? “And?” he prompted.

“And then they drain you of your life force,” V added nonchalantly.

Nero backed up a few more steps, definitely leery of moving forward. “What? But, I thought –the stick you gave me –”

“Only works against the Qliphoth, I’m afraid. This is a...different plant altogether.” He idly gestured one hand in the air.

Oh great, there was more than one hell plant in this hell hole and he had a get out of death free stick that only worked on one of them.

“But fear not.” V held out his hand, wiggling his fingers invitingly. “Take my hand. I can lead you through safely.”

Not having another choice, Nero put his hand in V’s and followed him in.

“It’s alright that you’re not ready to handle these puzzles. They can seem...dangerous to one so young.”

Nero clenched his teeth at the condescending words. “Well, it’d be much easier to work through them if they weren’t literal life and death, you know,” Nero scoffed snidely.

“Most things down here can be life or death, why not add it to our fun?”

Nero huffed. “That’s crazy.”

“It’s our normal here in the Underworld,” V droned on placatingly.

They were walking along for awhile with their hands together, and Nero was wondering just how long this puzzle trap was. “So, when’s the end of the puzzle?”

“The end? Oh, we passed that ages ago.”

“What?” Nero jerked. “Then why are you still holding my hand?”

“It’s giving you reassurance,” V soothed, giving him a quirk of his lips. “Like a child following their father around for added security.”

Now that irked Nero. He wasn’t a child, damn it. And who was V to play into a fatherly role when he never had one before? He ripped his hand out of V’s grasp. “You don’t have to baby me,” he snarked.

V hummed indulgently, further pissing Nero off. “Very well, if you want to prove that you’re old enough to take care of yourself then surely you can cross this long corridor by yourself?” he said, pointing ahead at the dimly lit path with the end of the cane.

Nero looked ahead. On the surface the path seemed clear enough from what he could tell, but he didn’t notice the tendril trap from earlier so maybe he was getting in over his head. It’d be really stupid of him to blindly rush off when he didn’t know his way around just yet. Reluctant to admit he might need help after all, he turned to look at V –

And he was gone.

“V?” he turned his head to look. “V, where did you go?”

Nero panicked a little, turning around himself to see if he could spot him but he couldn’t see him in the darkness. He tried to take a deep, calming breath, trying to calm his suddenly racing heart. Alright. This was fine. If V wanted him to go on ahead by himself then he could go on ahead by himself; he could do that. He was a big boy. “No big deal,” he breathed out, trying to reassure himself.

He wiped his suddenly sweaty palms on his pants and gripped his magic stick in his left hand, holding it up like a bat in case something came out to attack him, and started down the vine infested corridor with slow, cautious steps.

Aside from his nervous breaths and soft steps barely making any noise in the dirt there wasn’t anything else making noise in the passageway.

The silence was getting to him. It was just too quiet.

So when he did hear a faint whisper of movement, something slithering along, Nero jumped. He held his stick at the ready, panting out in fearful anticipation. He was squinting at the dark corners, trying to see if the ever present vines were moving and possibly about to attack him or if he was just seeing things and panicking unnecessarily. Still, he was afraid to turn his back to it, not wanting to get sneak attacked from behind and took shuffling side steps away from that particular spot of darkness, his trusty stick held out in front of him just in case.

Once he felt he was far enough away he gradually turned to face forward again, bringing his stick back up near his face again.

It occurred to him after another bit of walking that he still couldn’t even see the end of the hallway. The path was bright enough that he could walk comfortably without tripping on anything but it just seemed like it never ended.

Man, this dream was getting creepier and creepier.

Maybe he was going to get stuck wandering this hallway forever. Walking in one direction only to end up back where he started; a never ending loop that would go on forever. Was there even a way forward or was it swallowed by the darkness? It could just be his paranoia talking. But how could he tell? How far did he walk anyway? It felt like eons already. He was afraid to turn around in case something was going to sneak up behind him –

There was something behind him.

Nero shrieked, swinging his stick around and blindly attacking –

Only to have his strike parried by an opposing force, the recoil from his stick nearly braining him in return.

It was V, his cane held up one handed to block Nero’s swing.

Nero was breathing hard. “What the fuck!”

V removed his cane, settling it back down to rest on the ground. “Hello again, Nero. How did you like your taste of independence?”

“Not a whole lot!” Nero forced out, trying to calm his racing heart.

“Ah. Forgive me for putting you through such a stressful ordeal, Nero. I had not left the area, though it seemed as if I did. Perhaps...I can give you a friend to keep you company instead.”

He raised his arm up horizontally and suddenly a big blue bird poofed upwards into existence.

Nero instinctively flinched backwards, bringing his stick up to protect his face. He stayed safely behind his stick even after his brain realized what he was looking at just in case the magic bird decided to launch off and claw his face off but it didn’t actually do much besides watch him cower.

V took his reaction in stride and calmly continued. “This is Griffon. He can help guide you through the Underworld at your own pace. Why don’t you say hello?”

Nero gave V a funny look, trying to convey his incredulity of his request.

‘I am talking. To a bird,’ Nero thought.

A demon bird, more accurately. With three yellow eyes on each side of its face and a wicked looking beak splitting its lower jaw. It even had horns curling over its head.

Nero stared at the demon bird with his two human eyes.

The demon bird stared back, tilting his head around to ensure all six of his wandering eyes could get a glimpse of Nero.

He didn’t think it was going to be much for conversation.

“So...are you supposed to be some demon parrot or something?”

“Ha! Ha ha,” Griffon cackled in a buzzing echoing voice, its jaw stretching out wide as it spoke. Nero jumped further back in surprise. “That’s pretty funny. You’re a pretty funny guy. Not!”

Nero was still in shock. “Holy shit you can talk!”

“Yeah, no shit Shirley. Whaddya think I was gonna say? Polly want a cracker?”

V raised an eyebrow at their exchange. “Is there something wrong?”

“If you mean wrong as in what the hell,” Nero emphasized, pointing to Griffon.

“The hell you mean what the hell? I’m perfect!” Griffon said, puffing up his chest in pride.

V looked at Griffon, assessing his features. “I suppose he can be quite startling to humans. How can I make him appear less frightening to you?” V mused to himself, rubbing his hand on his chin. “Perhaps if add this.”

V placed his hand on Griffon’s head and drew it up slowly, leaving a little top hat in its place.

Griffon tilted his head to the side, the hat somehow still managing to stay on despite gravity. “So how do I look?” he asked.

Nero was put on the spot, part of him wanting to say that it did absolutely nothing to comfort him and another part not wanting to offend a demon bird that might peck out his eyes in revenge. But fortunately, he had great practice complimenting his mom without offending her and ended up mindlessly blurting out his default go-to safe response in these situations. “Um...great?”

He immediately made a face after. ‘What the fuck am I doing?’

“Excellent, I shall leave him in your care,” V said, holding his arm out to Nero’s shoulder and allowing Griffon to waddle his way across to settle on him with barely any added weight. Nero furrowed his brow, unclear if V was directing his words toward him or Griffon but deciding not to ask. “I shall be going on ahead. Do try to not get into any trouble along the way.”

Nero turned his head sharply toward V, feeling dread in the pit of his stomach at the thought of being alone in this hell again. “Wait, you’re just going to leave?”

“Yes, I have some...business to attend to. But don’t worry Nero, Griffon shall keep you safe. You can remain in this area if you’d like and I will return for you after I am done. But if you wish to continue exploring there are more puzzles you can try out. They are perfectly safe so there is no need to worry.” V paused to give Nero a slow smirk. “Unless you don’t feel capable enough to handle them?”

Here, a normal person trapped in this literal hellhole would probably not take the bait and desperately beg to be rescued. Nero considered himself a normal person at the best of times who would be sensible enough to tag along unobtrusively and let the adult handle everything rather than trying to brave his way through a dangerous situation by himself, dream or no.

But for V to taunt him and tell him he wasn’t good enough? It pissed him off enough to forgo his normally excellent common sense.

“I’ll be just fine, thank you very much,” Nero grit through his teeth politely.

V looked at him with lowered eyelids and nodded. “Good. I shall see you soon, Nero,” he said and turned around to walk off into the darkness.

Griffon immediately piped up to fill the silence. “Alright Superstar, what do want to do first? We’ve got some leaf piles you can play around in here. Kids like those sorts of things, right?”

“I’m not a kid,” Nero muttered mulishly, watching V’s back as he disappeared. He was fifteen, definitely not a kid anymore.

“Ha! Could have fooled me with that baby face of yours!”

Nero scowled, jerking his arm up and trying to dislodge the bird. Griffon squawked, gripping his talons on as tight as he could without hurting Nero in order to keep his balance as his wings flailed in the air.

“Touchy touchy. Someone needs a nap.”

“What I need is to get out of this place,” Nero said, starting to walk off after V once the other man was out of sight. He wanted to prove himself, sure, but he didn’t want to get the cheat sheet off of V if he followed too closely.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, you’re just going to leave?” Griffon squawked. He didn’t wait for a response before he started rambling again. “But you were just shaking in your little boots just a minute ago. Don’t you want to stay here and wait for your daddy to come and pick you after he’s done with his super important thing?”

Nero wasn’t sure where to start with that sentence. “What –he’s not my dad! You –nevermind! I just want to do this by myself.”

“Do what? The puzzles? Yeah, sure go ahead, if you think your kiddy brain can handle them but you didn’t even notice the last one and what would’ve happened then?” Griffon made an exaggerated choking noise. “Alas, poor Nero! If only he used his head!”

Nero was starting to think he preferred the quiet horror of being alone instead of this annoying voice bombarding him every few seconds.

“Aren’t you supposed to be my guide?” Nero said, stubbornly trying to keep his cool. “Guide me then.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll show you where to go. But I’m just saying if it gets too hard for you we can come back here and play in the leaves until your dad comes back to rescue you. Running away is okay. It’s always okay to run away, if you’re not up for it!”

A blue butterfly suddenly flew off from a branch once they walked too close to it.

“Like that butterfly! Look at it go, getting scared of your big ol’ mean footsteps. That’s what you should do, kiddo. You tell ‘em they’re doing a good job running away!”

“I don’t think the butterfly can understand you,” Nero mumbled, then stopped to reconsider.”Wait, it doesn’t talk either, does it?”

He realized his mistake as soon as he said it. “No, wait, don’t answer that –”

It was too late.

Griffon started up his rambling again, swivelling his neck to stare behind him at the retreating butterfly. “Oh that tiny thing, no it’s just a little bug it –”

Nero willed himself to tune out the annoying background commentary and keep walking.

***

They didn’t make if that far before Griffon decided to deviate from his rambling and ask him a question. “Hey, do you prefer chocolate or strawberry?”

That was a random question. “Uh, chocolate I guess?”

Griffon perked up happily. “Yeah, chocolate is pretty great, huh?”

“Uh, yeah,” Nero agreed. He considered if he wanted to continue this conversation and deal with Griffon’s unending word-vomit. “So...why do you want to know anyway?”

“What, I can’t ask questions? How else are we supposed to get to know each other better?”

“Right, yeah,” Nero said dully, rolling his eyes. He’d heard plenty enough from Griffon already to know how annoying he was. “Forget I asked.”

“How can I forget that you’d rather have chocolate instead of strawberry? That’s big news down here! Lemme tell you –”

Nero sighed heavily.

***

They entered a room containing a giant chessboard with equally giant life-sized demonic looking chess pieces set up on both sides of the board. At the far end of the room, past the edge of the board, was a wall of spikes blocking what looked like the path forward.

“Hey you’re good at chess, aren’tcha?” Griffon prompted.

“Uh,” Nero replied eloquently. “I...I know what it looks like. But, um, no.”

It just wasn’t interesting to him, especially since he had no reason to play it when he’d rather do other things when he’d hang out with his friends. His mom even got him a guitar to jam out on and when he wasn’t doing that he’d just be in his room listening to some music as he worked on a drawing or tried his hand at building something.

“Huh. Well ain’t that a shocker! No big deal we’ll just set it to itty-bitty baby mode,” Griffon said. Nero frowned, not sure if he should be grateful for the handicap when he had to go and phrase it like that. Plus, how was he able to change the settings on this thing? Was there a control panel set up somewhere?

Griffon flew onto the board as Nero was lost in thought and landed about halfway in on the left side, speedily turning around by slapping his little talons on the ground. “Now listen up Superstar, your goal here is to have two pieces land on these two squares here,” he said, gesturing to the one he stood on and the one diagonally across him. “Doesn’t matter which side does it, any two pieces will do. And when you got them in place then that wall of spikes will vamoose and we can go on our merry way.”

“Uh, ok, so –how do I do that? Do I just pick them up or...?” Nero trailed off, approaching one of the pawns holding a pair of crossed swords and gave it a testing shove. Considering it was made out of solid rock it didn’t move at all.

“No, no. You gotta play the game. Tell the pieces where you want them to go. Just don’t worry about winning, remember. And if you mess up we can reset the board and you can try again as many times as you’d like.”

That seemed easy enough. “Alright. Ok. So, uh, pawn,” Nero said, pointing at the pawn three spaces away from the left side of the board. “Go there.” Nero then pointed to the space directly in front of the pawn, just one spot away from one of the spots Griffon pointed out.

“Oh, ah, hmm,” Griffon said, for once being less expressive. “You’re really going to put it there?”

“What? Yeah...pawns can only go forward one space, right? Is there something wrong with that?” Nero said, feeling a little self-conscious due to his inexperience with the game.

“Nothing, nothing. Nothing’s wrong,” Griffon appeased unconvincingly before screeching into the air, “Pawn to C3!”

The pawn rumbled to life, changing its color from a lifeless dark grey to a white and floated into the designated spot before deactivating again.

“Huh, cool,” Nero mused.

A noise from the opposite side of the board had him look over and see the pawn second from the left activate and move forward two spaces.

Nero stared. “Wait...” he said, confused.

“Yeah...uh. Pawns can move forward two spaces from their starting position.”

Meaning Nero could have just moved his pawn two spaces from the start and got one of the squares covered.

“Oh...” Nero said lamely.

“Yeah, well, live and learn. Your move, Nero.”

Alright. Now that he knew what to do this should be easy. He pointed at the next pawn in the lineup to carry out his turn. “You go over there.”

“Pawn to D4!” Griffon translated.

The piece looking like some wizard holding a staff on the other side of the board popped out to land among the pawn lineup.

And then it was Nero’s turn again. He figured he’d just move his pawns forward one space one at a time and get this puzzle over and done with. “You over there.”

“Pawn to C4!”

A few things happened at once:

Griffon was holding down the other activation square, which allowed the spikes at the end of the board to lower into the ground and reveal the path. He flew up, however, bringing the spikes shooting back into their slots just as the opposite pawn came to life and swung its swords down upon Nero’s just recently moved pawn and shattered it into pieces.

“Holy shit!” Nero yelped, ducking away from the flying rock shards.

“Yeah it’s a blast isn’t it?” Griffon said from the safety in the air.

“What the hell was that?” Nero said, staring as the opposing pawn casually moved into the newly vacant square, crushing the leftover remains of Nero’s pawn as it descended into place.

“It’s how we play chess down here! Pretty great, huh? It’s even better if you ride on the pieces and go all out against another player. It’s a lotta fun! We gotta try it out sometime later, especially when you get better at the game. Or we can go on a free for all brawl –you versus the other pieces. Now that’s a whole other game there –”

Griffon babbled away as he flew in circles, leaving Nero free to look at the board. The enemy pawn was holding down one of the switches. All he had to do was move his other pawn in place and they were good to go, right?

“Hey, Griffon, tell that pawn to move forward,” Nero interrupted.

“What –Oh,” Griffon stopped mid speech, hovering in place as he looked at what Nero was pointing at. “Pawn to D5!”

The pawn moved forward and settled into place. And on the far side of the room the spikes lowered into the ground again.

“Great going, Superstar,” Griffon cheered. “You did it! Let’s keep going.”

“Fine by me,” Nero agreed.

***

Nero was starting to get a little hungry with all this walking around. He chalked it up to weird dream logic but he hoped he wasn’t going to wake up chewing on his pillow and drooling all over the bed again. That was a weird thing to discover and explain to his mom. She was already amazed at how much food he could pack away in his growing body during the day that for him to do it in his sleep just made her laugh and get her sewing kit to try and repair his torn up pillows.

He wasn’t sure how long he was going to have to deal with these puzzles for so he figured he might as well as check if there was anything edible nearby so his hunger didn’t stress him out and ruin his concentration.

“So, uh, is there anything I can eat around here?”

“Got the munchies, huh?” Griffon said. “Not to fear, your trusty navigator Griffon is here to help you! So how do you feel about donuts?”

Now that he mentioned them he really wanted one now. “Donuts sound good.”

“Great! There’s a little bakery nearby. It doesn’t get a lot of customers and I’ve got enough halos to buy you one.”

Nero looked at him funny. “Halos?”

Griffon looked right back. “Yeah, halos. You know, those golden rings hovering over angels heads? It’s our money down here. Well, one of them, anyway.”

Nero raised his eyebrows. Okay. That was a thing. Angels were real and demons used their headgear as money, Right. Nero was chalking that one up to dream logic.

Griffon continued his rambling. “This bakery is the cheaper one too. There’s the main branch a far ways off that’s real stingy with their prices. Especially since the lady that manages it is awfully protective of her goods. You’d have to pay an arm and a leg just to get a taste and you’d gobble it up in seconds! I mean sure, it’s a great plan to torture some poor soul to sign their afterlife away and have them spend the rest of eternity just to pay back that loan. But this one here?” Griffon made a screechy scoff noise. “It’s a steal!”

Griffon directed Nero forward with a wing. “Head past this pile of leaves and head straight on through.”

Nero entered an enclosed dead end area filled with more plant roots, foliage and spider webs with a bunch of not so tiny spiders crawling around the floor. Nero thought himself as someone who could handle himself reasonably well when put in the situation of standing off against a lone spider he’d find in his house. But those were small, normal sized things he could catch in a cup or crush under a shoe or something. These....were the size of rats. Giant rat sized spiders. An army of giant rat sized mutant spiders all looking his way with their many, many eyes.

Nero froze up, instinctual fear telling him to abort. Abort now. Flee from the army of giant mutant demon spiders that could easily crawl all over him and send him flailing about like a maniac just to get them off of him.

Griffon had no such problem, probably due to the fact that he had the advantage of flight and could abandon Nero to his doom at any time. “Heya guys! Guess what, we’ve got a paying customer here to sample your delectable wears. One spider donut if you please!”

Griffon fluffed up and shook out a bunch of golden rings from his feathers to let them bounce around and scatter on the ground. The spiders crawled forward to gather them up and Nero jumped back in alarm, not wanting to be swarmed. He stumbled even further backwards with shaky footsteps, about to make a break for it when Griffon stopped him.

“Hey what’s wrong kiddo? Where are you going? You’re not afraid of spiders are you?” He didn’t bother waiting for a response, just taking in Nero’s petrified face as enough of a translation. “Relax! You don’t need to be afraid of these little guys they’re just minding their own business just like we are. And look, they’re fetching our order right now. Fast service, huh?”

He was right. A few of the spiders had retreated into the plants carrying the halos with them and returned with an actual authentic looking donut. They crawled onto one of the webs, and held it out between them for Nero to be able to reach out and grab it, if he could bring himself to walk over and take it.

Nero was still hesitant. “Uhh, so what’s it made out of anyway?”

“Oh the usual, they bake it like you humans do. They add a special ingredient down here though, Adds a little extra zing to it, you know.”

Nero wasn’t quite convinced but his hunger was winning out and the donut was right there. He’d just reach out and grab it and back away slowly. It’d be totally fine, right?

He shuffled closer, licking his lips as he bent over and carefully reached out with a hand to grab it.

Griffon stopped him. “Whoa, hang on a sec, kiddo. They’re still not done yet. Got to add the last ingredient and it tastes way better when it’s fresh. Here it comes now.”

It, being another spider. It was being herded up by a train of other spiders and was forced up onto the donut. Nero had a split second to get irrationally creeped out by the spider walking its many legs all over the top even though they literally just carried it out with said legs before the other surrounding spiders grabbed onto each of its legs and pulled. The spider screeched out a dying scream as its legs were pulled off, spilling out multiple sprays of its blood onto the donut until the spider disintegrated into nothingness as its legless body fell through the open donut hole. The donut was soaked red, some of the blood instantly crystallizing into little red rocks along its surface that glistened wetly.

“What the fuck,” Nero breathed in wide eyed horror, his mouth gaping open.

“And voila! One spider donut freshly glazed and topped with sprinkles,” Griffon crowed happily. He gave him an encouraging nudge forward. “Well go on, pick it up. Don’t be rude, Nero.”

Nero was speechless. He was running on autopilot as he obediently picked up the cursed donut from hell and blindly backed away to the exit, the eyes of the many, many spiders watching him leave silently. Griffon called out in farewell as they left the area and returned to the previous hallway, Nero backtracking into the pile of leaves and sitting down in them heavily. He stared at nothing and just breathed.

“So are you going to eat that or...?” Griffon prompted after watching him do absolutely nothing, donut still held aloft in his frozen hand.

Nero took a moment to process his thoughts.

“What the fuck was that?” he summed up eloquently.

Griffon tilted his head at him, trying to get all of his eyes to look at Nero. “What was what?”

“That!” Nero emphasized, waving his hands as he tried to get his point across. “The –that!”

Griffon looked back and forth between Nero and the donut intently as he tried to figure out what he was trying to say. He extended his neck forward to stare into Nero’s eyes better. “Do you mean the special ingredient or something?”

“Yes!” Nero cried, incredulous that Griffon wasn’t making a big deal over it like he was. “That!”

“Ohh, that’s nothing,” Griffon shrugged off. “They’ve got an overpopulation problem you know. They’ve gotta cull the weaklings. But hey, that’s good for us, huh?” Griffon nudged him with a wing. “They taste great on donuts. Go on, give it a try.”

There was no way Nero was eating it now, his appetite lost after having to watch that. “Uh, maybe later.”

Griffon shrugged. “Eh, suit yourself. Why don’t I hang onto that for you.” He reached out with his foot and yanked the donut from Nero’s unresisting hand, tucking it into his chest where it just...absorbed into his feathers. “You just let me know when you’re in the mood and I’ll bring it out again.”

Nero blankly stared at where it disappeared to. “Great...thanks.”

***

They came across an open doorframe set into a rock. Above it there were three pictures sculpted into the rock: A baby crawling, a man standing tall, and one that looked an awful lot like V hunched over with a cane. Nero raised an eyebrow at it and shook his head minutely, ignoring it and moving through the doorway.

It led into a square room with more doorways, except there were skulls adorned above the doorway with varying red lights instead.

Where was he supposed to go now?

Nero looked between the open doors trying to see which way the right way to go but it was too dark to see what was behind them. He hoped it wasn’t one of those, beware certain death behind door number one sort of deal.

Griffon didn’t offer any helpful advice so he figured it’d be okay for him to run on through and see for himself what happened.

He shrugged and randomly picked one to walk through, walking into the darkness.

There was a weird noise –

And he walked back into the room he just left.

“What? How?” Nero said, doing a double take as he looked back at the door he just came from. He raised a finger in the air as if to silently say wait and walked back through the doorway again.

There was a weird noise again –

And he was back in the same room.

Nero stared, absolutely confused. But then again...was this really the same room? Maybe that was the trick. That he was really going forward but because everything looked the same he couldn’t tell.

Maybe he should go through the door a few times to test it. Process of elimination and all that.

He walked through the door, ending up in the same room, but deciding to carry on forward to the door across the room that was directly in front of him and did so again once he got into the next room after that.

He still ended up in the same looking room.

“How is it doing that?” Nero said, absolutely flummoxed.

Was this just weird dream logic? Where you’d run to something but the floor just kept going and going to keep the prize just out of reach?

Griffon finally spoke up. “Ah, huh. Having trouble there? Want an itty bitty hint? Or we can backtrack our way out of this room and take another look around...?”

Nero was stubborn enough to try and figure this out on his own. “No, no, I can do this,” he quickly retorted. “But...I wouldn’t mind a little hint.”

“Alrighty,” Griffon said. He flew off of Nero’s shoulder and landed in the middle of the room. “I’m going to stay right here. If you don’t see me, you’re going the right way.”

“Ok!” Nero said, adamant to get through this.

He went through another door –

And met up with Griffon again.

“Nope,” said the demon bird.

He tried a different door –

“Nuh uh,” Griffon said.

He tried another door –

Blessed silence.

He looked behind him incredulously. Which door did he take again? He couldn’t remember. Well, time for him to try again. He picked a door –

And found Griffon who made an annoying error buzzing noise when he saw him.

Nero scowled at him and tried to find the right door again.

It was after he had gone through a lot of doorways, some giving him false hope of the right path when he didn’t see Griffon, and some having repeated encounters with his feathered guide and his oh so helpful failure noises that frustrated the hell out of him, did Griffon decide to change up his dialogue.

“You know, V has a saying,” Griffon started.

“Is is something along the lines of doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result?” Nero interrupted grouchily, not wanting to hear any backseat commentary.

“There is that one, yeah. But this one goes,” Griffon stopped to clear his throat and lift a wing into the air while he drew the other across his chest. “If the fool would persist in his folly he would become wise.”

Nero stopped to run that through his head. “So...that a good thing then?”

“Just keep going, Superstar. You’ll get it eventually.”

***

A/N:

So, again, the entire fic is finished and I’ll be posting it up gradually over time. Thing is...I wrote the scenes all out of order. Like, I’ll be writing on a scene a 1/4 way in, then jump to somewhere over 3/4 in and then 2/4 and so on and try to puzzle piece them together. So the pacing for the scenes is definitely going to be off in some parts. Like, I’ll go into massive detail in one paragraph and the next may have me just moving things along because I wrote them both at completely different times. I mighta missed some continuity of what the characters are supposed to know and have on them at some points, so, uh, that’s why.

Alrighty, so now for some of my ‘didja see that? didja get it?’ gushing:

1) Nero wakes up in some garden with no context of how he got there and gets attacked by less than friendly plant life. Hello Flowey, setting the tone for the player to ‘Trust no one. None. At all. Zip. Nada. They’re playing nice just to eat you, even you goat mom.’ Plus we know nothing about Frisky Business at this point in time until their (possible choice) personality comes out with dialogue options as the game goes on.

2) Nero also being Monster Kid and worrying about parental discipline.

3) That blue fire ball from V. DMC1 anyone?

4) Monster candy. Heals you. Please take one. Yes it’s a vital star.

5) Nero starting weapon inventory: the stick and the bandage.

6) The first puzzle Toriel introduces you to. I debated keeping it as it is in the game just because it used the magic word ‘foolish’. But then I was like....ehh, I should probably come up with something instead. So, checked the Blake poems for options and good ole Melancholy came in handy. Thanks DMC1! Brought over sun and moon keys from DMC3 too.

7) Next puzzle being the spike floor pattern one, again from DMC1 when you’re on your way to see Mundus in Hell and suddenly there are things coming out of the walls.

8) Goat mom tells you to forgive her for making you walk all by your lonesome self down the hall that seems like it never ends. So why not hype that up that fear, huh?

9) Griffon: Acts as your cellphone. Will bother you with non-stop chatter if you give him the chance. Dammit Alphys I just want to walk without interruptions. Also the first dummy you practice talking to and Blooky and his wonderful top hat. And tutorial frog advice. (I also ultimately chose this spot to fit in the Hamlet reference.)

10) Qliphoth butterfly. Hello and goodbye Whimsun.

11) Do you prefer cinnamon or butterscotch. Asking for a friend.

12) Tell the rock to move where you want it to move dammit. Thanks DMC3. If I didn’t fail at my mental pathway of the chess game I had Nero’s pieces land on D&C on 3,4,5 of the DMC 3,4,5 games.

14) Spider donut. Made of spiders, for spiders. So, uh, this scene was one of the starting inspirational ‘huh, what if...’ moments that had me write this entire story out. Expanded on the scene til I got the finished product there and just kept going.

15) Yes, Halos. Hello Bayonetta reference.

16) DMC3 Trial of Wisdom being the perspective turn switch room. So, fun fact: kid me playing DMC3 didn’t read the instructions at first and tried to brute force trial and error it. Guess what Nero, you get to too.

#devil may cry #nero devil may cry #undertale

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