#skele response

[monodramatic-cannibal]

Hey Mono, remember me? I was the one who did the German Suplex on you, are you okay after that, my guy?

Side eye

[holographicbutch]

How to explain to roommate that if she makes plans for a certain time she needs to be out of bed and ready by that time

[undersprite]

2024 Comic Contest Results

Before we get started, I would like to extend a personal thank you to everyone who created an entry for the contest this year. Although we only got four entries this year, those four entries' dedication to telling stories that are novel and interesting for this community to enjoy is worthy of commendation in itself. For a while, I was scared we wouldn't even get enough entries to fill the podium; thanks to your efforts, this has not come to pass.

Since we have very few entries this time around, I'll be providing a link to each comic, with accompanying scores and excerpts from reviews. Now, catch the results under the cut:

Runner-Up: "The Undertale Game Comic" by FutureGamer25

(Average score: 15.5/50)

"As the submitter says, this was made in a day. I can’t be too hard on this out of principle..." - Soufon

"[...it] succeeded at making me laugh multiple times, thanks in no small part to how it deliberately wields nothing looking like it fits together." - CHAOS_FANTAZY

"You know, honestly for being made in less than a day and being posted 5 minutes before the deadline, I gotta give you a lot of credit for that. I don’t even think I could have made that in a day [...]" - Mufeet

"The freaking car and the ending got me a good chuckle. I'll give you that. I congratulate you for tossing your coin." - Subna

3rd: "Frisk Visits the Store and Nothing Happens" by Trooper3

(Average score: 34/50)

"I thought Sans and ESPECIALLY Papyrus were super funny [...] I think we’ve finally reached a point where the skele-bros are just consistently characterized properly now, and I love to see it." - Mufeet

"The FunMart[TM] makes an earnest effort to capture the feeling of exploring an area in an actual Toby Fox game, and [...] captures at least a bit of that shine." - CHAOS_FANTAZY

"I honestly like your idea, is funny and it works perfectly to show these OCs of yours in this format. I wish there was more content to see about them, I wish to know them [...]" - Subna

"As light as it is, I like having this kind of slice of life look into UT’s world, the comedy focus helping to make the comic feel more breezy than insubstantial." - Soufon

2nd: "Undertale: Pushing On" by Mouse

(Average score: 34.75/50)

"Of all the entries we got, this is the only one that really felt like it captured the essence of telling a story as if it were still part of a game—something I have sorely missed." - CHAOS_FANTAZY

"Great story and great teaching from it. Can add up greatly to UNDERTALE’s world and...tbh I’d LOVE to play a full game with Alvia." - Subna

"[...] I like having who [Gerson] is in UT be because of Alvia’s actions, like how the orange soul kid is framed as responsible for the bunny family in Snowdin’s success - having all the soul humans impact the underground like that helps all of them feel real to UT’s world[...]" -Soufon

"I was captivated from beginning to end, and god, the ending [...] it actually made me a bit teary-eyed." - Mufeet

1st: "Knock Knock" by StarlightShores and ToMoChao

(Average score: 47/50)

"I was not expecting something like this out of this contest. Knock Knock is a substantial storyline, not a peek into an adventure, or a silly reprieve." - Soufon

"Even if it’s pretty lengthy, it keeps you engaged, to know where this is all going, all the way to the end." - Subna

"Flowey and Sans pair-ups are so rare, but when done it is ALWAYS such a fun time. They both play off each other so well, and it is no exception in this comic, especially towards the end where they start to bond over dealing with the loss of someone important to them." - Mufeet

"You created a story going on a thousand panels where, while reading it, my attention never flagged [...] You created a webcomic the Undertale fanbase will, if there’s any justice left around here, be obsessed with for years to come. It’s art, I’m afraid." - CHAOS_FANTAZY

Our full score card for the event can be seen here. The full reviews will be available in the Discord server on request.

With regards to prizes: the judge whom was contributing to our prize pool has begun college for the year, and unfortunately they were unable to set aside the money they had originally promised for the cash prize. The illustration prize is still available; winners, please reach out to fmsdraws on Discord to claim your prize.

And that leaves me...with this blog.

I'd like to write up a proper postmortem for this experience, but that can come in another week or two. For now, please enjoy the comics and celebrate the victors!

[howlsofbloodhounds]

you know I think itd be very very interesting to explore killer’s disconnect from other monsters as well and skeletons monsters specifically. like their customs, culture, traditions, even their means of nonverbal communication and body language.

like. its a big part of his character that he doesnt know what he is. human, monster. both. neither. something else entirely.

he doesnt know. imagine all the conflicts that can arise because its killer responsibility to take care of and look after cross, horror, and murder but he doesnt comprehend or factor in or even consider their means of nonverbal communication or skeleton specific body language cues and traditions just yet.

imagine all the misunderstandings and mistakes and the angst because they all likely dont know that killer doesnt understand because they all do and killer will never ever tell them directly. its like these guys are speaking a language he forgot how to understand or speak.

imagine killers body instinctively giving cues or signals he isnt aware of or doesnt understand but the others do so they react or behave and accordingly and killers confusion about it. or imagine his body having been trained out of those specific instinctive responses and now other skeletons are hurt or offended or confused or feel threatened.

id imagine this all pushes killer further towards nightmare too. because nightmare also isnt a monster despite having the body of one. hed probably also subject the other skeles to an intense observation and borderline stalking period.

[teenyagent]

Yooo!

First of all your Fic Playhouse is amazing! I loved to read the relationship between Mc!Sans and Alphys! There is so little interaction written of those two. And I think your Alphys is so well characterized! Her insecurities, vices, strength and lovable personality are very well flashed out!

I love how her gift to Sans is so Her. Using technology to help him continue living but avoiding the problem while she is alive. Only telling him about her suspicions and doubts after death where she doesn't have to deal with the consequences. But reinforcing her love to him and giving his life meaning to continue. One thing I loved is: How this present is a gift but a curse at the same time. This helped him continue living but prevents him from moving on. I can see him grieving again when the prerecorded messages run out (and his ritual of listen to her phone call can't continue he could very well crash). The messages helps a lot. And I don't think he would be alive without them. But I wonder how this will play out after? Will he be able to continue in this new world without a pseudo Alphys (that remembers their time together, no taking someone else's wife Sans!!)?

Also I wanted to ask:

It's already been a long time since MC was human. They spend more time as a monster them a human. And this is just my interpretation of the character. If I'm wrong just set me straight.

But I see our MC as a third individual. A person born from Sans and the human characteristics. The MC just identify more as human cause Sans was falling when the two of them merged. But he still is part of the MC, and a huge influence into this new personality. Even more by the fact MC had to act like him. Turning something that was once an act into MC second nature.

And I saw they referring to the Sans part of themselves as Sans. Also MC is using the same pronouns to refer to the Human part of themselves(the past as a human and personality as a human).

So I was wondering if in the future MC will start to refer to their human self as THEY or Human? After accepting they are not that person any more?

Rahhh!! Thank you!! I love my girlfailure so of course I invested my heart into her lmfao. Also Alphys is so underrated as a love interest outside Undyne, so I explored what her dynamic could be like with someone similar to her personality-- nerdy, secretive, etc. I'm glad it's paying off haha!

And you!!🫵 you get where I'm going with her character at the neutral route!! Alphys never learned to build her confidence, as her support system from the pacifist route is non-existent. She never learned to be confrontational or to stand up for herself, and thus never confronted MC about any heavy topics. What glues their relationship together is love, fear and guilt. Fondness is inevitable when you only have one person in your life. And since they're the only person in your life, you fear losing them; so, you had to learn to never snap at them, never fight, never do anything to drive them away-- even when there's already frustration or resentment building underneath. Finally, there's guilt, where you feel responsible for the other's well-being because you're aware that you're their only support system. It's a mess of emotional trauma full of pent up emotions that MC is dying to let out. It's no wonder they're so sassy and snappish the moment they're confronted by the skele-lodge.

MC is a ticking time bomb waiting to crash out lmfao

Yes, that's right! MC is basically the secret third thing lol; not entirely human and not entirely monster. MC has long accepted that they're not the same person when they died, especially when they continued pretending to be someone they're not. Fake it til you make it, they say, and MC eventually became who they're faking. The best analogy I can think of for this is a tomato lol

A tomato in botany is a fruit, but in culinary arts, it's identified as a vegetable. Social construct required them to be a vegetable because that's what the recipe asks from them. And it works! Tomato in vegetable dishes are delicious! The tomato is good at being a vegetable. But then, people began to think that the concept of a tomato being a fruit AND a vegetable is mutually exclusive when it's not. In its very essence, a tomato started off and always will be a fruit. But it can also be a vegetable. That's MC as Sans.

MC was human, but was turned into Sans. They continued to act like Sans, because that's what Alphys expected of them. So, they acted as Sans for so long, they became good at it and adapted to be him. The pretend eventually stopped being pretend, and transitioned into something real and genuine. Except, there are tweaks here and there that makes it uniquely MC's, even though it's Sans' habit. There's more nuance to this than a tomato agdjskak but basically, in MC's core, they're still human. Sans gave MC the knowledge, and MC utilized it. Neither could have done what they've done without the other.

Sans with his intelligence and MC with their perseverance. They are separate beings who complimented each other so well, they started to unite. Not merge; not really.

They can still get separated, proven by their journey with the machine. Except, MC never lets him go.

Can Sans choose to let go? Yeah, he can. Will he? Who knows.

Rahhh!!! excuse my scattered rambling lmfao I have so many thoughts about them agdjskal

Thanks for the interest in my fic!!

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

Skele's reaction to S/O not talking to them after an argument? For the main skeletons please?

Undertale Sans - He's annoyed. Sans doesn't like arguments to end like that, as he's a guy who prefers to talk it out immediately and be done with it. Sans tries again, if you don't answer, he's leaving the house to calm down at Grillby's. Call him when you're done, he's not paying for your mood swings.

Undertale Papyrus - He hates he feels guilty because you keep silent. He's not the only one responsible. Papyrus returns to his room and locks himself in his closet to cry from frustration. He's upset, but he doesn't know how to tell you he's upset. So as usual, he keeps everything for himself and grits his teeth.

Underswap Sans - Blue always argues, and he always have to win. That's one of his flaws. He knows he went too far, and that he's not that right either, but he's way too proud to recognize it. He gives you some space, and comes back later when you're in a better mood and acts like nothing happened, hoping it's going to work. Confronting him about his behavior won't do much better unfortunately. He's stubborn and will get immediately defensive.

Underswap Papyrus - Honey apologizes silentlly when he sees you're not talking anymore, then does it again and again, more and more distressed as you keep ignoring him. He teleports away, and goes to hide at Asgore's place to have his panic attack. Honey is extremely empathetic, so feeling you're mad at him is a big thing and he can't deal with it. He prefers to isolate himself until you come to fetch him. He hates arguments.

Underfell Sans - You're pouting? Fine. Fuck you. Red is far from impressed and simply ignores you. He switches on his PlayStation and plays video games next to you, not looking even once your way. Two can play this game.

Underfell Papyrus - He huffs, annoyed, then storms out to not explode. Fine, ignore him, he doesn't care. Edge goes to sit outside and will refuse to go back in, even when you come to fetch him. You wanted this to be more difficult than what it needed, deal with it. He's not going to pretend nothing happened, he's done hiding his feelings to please people.

Horrortale Sans - Uh oh. Oh well. He gives you some air, and comes back ten minutes later with a miraculous amnesia, look at that, it's like nothing happened. The funny part is that he's talking very slowly, judging your reaction to see if his bullshit is working or not. If it works, it just flops on your lap. If it doesn't you hear him whisper a "damn it" and then he leaves and tries again ten minutes later, but this time because he really forgot he already tried that plan.

Horrortale Papyrus - Willow gives you some space and goes to do something else to calm down. It's no use getting angry. He then proceeds to overthink the entire think and stress-cooks for three hours because he can't stop beating himself up about the argument, spiralling in his own anxiety. He tried not to care about it at least for three minutes, that's improvement!

Swapfell Sans - Well, he's doing the same thing, arms crossed, staring through your soul. Are you done yet? It's boring and unnecessary. Just because you pout doesn't mean you're right though, and if you stay silent, he's so going to start arguing again at some point, just out of spite.

Swapfell Papyrus - He gives you the sad puppy eyes. Come on, he knows you can't stay mad at him forever. He's adorable. You try to ignore him, but the more you ignore him, the closer he gets. He knows you and he knows your weaknesses. You can't stay mad at him forever and he can see your smile right now, even though you're trying really hard to hide it.

Fellswap Gold Sans - Wine prefers to leave to not get more upset. He'll apologize later, but not now. He needs some fresh air and to do something else, because he feels like he's going to explode any second now. He ends up attacking a poor tree with bones, attacks until he feels better and comes home, cold and collected again, to apologize and try to talk it out.

Fellswap Gold Papyrus - Coffee looks quite miserable right now, trying to cuddle to you to apologize, but you keep pushing him away. So, uh, he teleports in his closet and cuddles with one big plushie there, looking sad and heartbroken. Only to change mood completely the second you come back and say you're not mad at him anymore. You swear he was manipulating you into reaching that result.

[sloanesallow]

The Call of the Void | Chapter 6

Shy girl meets distracted boy. Chaos ensues. This is my "canon" retelling of Siobhan Sloane and Sebastian Sallow's story. (full synopsis here. Chapter summary: Restricted section you say? 4k words Chapter warnings: Peak Sebastian energy. Sloane says more than 5 words, and freaking Peeves. [Ao3] | [Wattpad] [PREVIOUS] | [NEXT]

VI: R E S T R I C T E D

Siobhan doesn’t attend any of her classes on Thursday.

Instead of greeting the sunrise from the courtyard, she makes her way to the infirmary while the rest of her housemates are still asleep. Her hands haven’t stopped shaking since the troll attack in Hogsmeade, the ancient magic threatening to break free with every beat of her heart. The new wand only intensifies the burning sensation, and she’s terrified of losing control, again.

Siobhan has enough to worry about as a new student—an outsider—struggling to catch up with her peers. She isn’t naive to the rumors about herself, the whispers that have already labeled her as ‘awkward’ and ‘undeserving’ of her acceptance to Hogwarts. She’s too quiet, too inexperienced, and perhaps worst of all, not from wizarding society. If they learn she is a ticking time bomb, she can kiss any hope of being considered normal goodbye.

Nurse Blainey takes pity on Siobhan after assuring her there is nothing wrong, offering a calming draught and a cot by the window. That is where she spends the day, watching the clouds and owls and the tiny specks of students below as they traverse the courtyards walking from class to class. Guilt gnaws at her stomach for behaving so cowardly—her father would be disappointed if he knew she was hiding away—but she allows herself the reprieve, given the circumstances.

The only other person who knows anything about ancient magic is Professor Fig, but he is still in London, and she is alone. At least that is something she’s used to. It isn’t until sunset that she returns to the Hufflepuff common room, timing it so that her housemates are in the great hall for supper. She crawls beneath the covers of her small bed with the hopeless wish that she’ll wake up in Nottingham and find this was all just a bad dream.

She doesn’t.

Siobhan remains there on Friday morning, feigning sleep when Poppy attempts to rouse her for breakfast. When it’s quiet she slowly sits up, tucking her knees to her chest as she contemplates where else she can take refuge today. She doubts Nurse Blainey will allow her to loiter in the hospital wing again, not unless she develops a real illness. Professor Weasley will only encourage her to attend Flying class, and that is the last place she wants to be.

Eventually, she finds the strength to slowly get out of bed and dress for the day, wondering if she’d be sent home if she were to fall off her broom. The only thing that shakes the thought from her head is remembering a student from the day before, languishing over something called Skele-Gro. She takes her time walking through the castle, pretending she is simply lost (she is) when a Prefect asks why she isn’t in class.

When she finds herself in the Defense Against the Dark Arts tower, she realizes there is another place she can avoid her responsibilities, if only for one more day. Except, when she enters Professor Fig’s classroom, she’s surprised to see him pacing back and forth beyond his open office door.   

“Professor?” she calls out to him as she steps inside the cluttered space.

He barely acknowledges her presence with a hum before glancing at her with a raised eyebrow. “Shouldn’t you be on the flying lawn, Miss Sloane?”

Siobhan falters and flashes a guilty smile. “No?”

Fig sighs but doesn’t probe any further. “Your father did say you were a terrible liar,” he quietly laughs and winks. “Your secret is safe with me. Broomsticks aren’t for everyone.” 

She sighs, thankful he is back. “I’m glad to see you.”

“And I you,” he replies, his expression shifting into one of worry. “I heard about the attack in Hogsmeade. A troll? Thank Merlin you are in one piece.”

Barely, Siobhan thinks to herself, shaking her head. “It was wearing armor and was…glowing, like the dragon’s collar. Like the armbands the goblins wore in Gringots.”

“Goblin silver,” Professor Fig says, looking even more troubled than before. “Ranrok must be using it to control the beasts. But how? And why Hogsmeade, of all places?”

“Because of…me,” Siobhan’s voice wavers as she speaks, a terrifying reality that unsettles her every nerve. Her skin crawls with the memory. “Ranrok was there, with a man named Victor Rookwood. They want the ancient magic. They want me.”

“Without a care for innocent bystanders, it seems,” Professor Fig murmurs, brows furrowed. “I wager Ranrok did not expect a student to be capable of defeating a troll.”

If it is an attempt to make her feel better, it fails. Siobhan wrings her fingers together to stop them from trembling, swallowing thickly to steady herself.

“I—it happened again,” she starts to explain. “I lost control.”

“What do you remember?” Professor Fig calmly asks.

Siobhan remembers very little, only that one moment she was watching in horror as a troll lumbered toward her, and the next it was in a crumpled heap on the cobblestone, its flesh marked by ancient magic. Her silence is answer enough.  

“Were there any witnesses?”

“Y—yes,” she answers, her pulse quickening. “Sebastian Sallow.”

What she does remember is his reaction, wide brown eyes staring at her in disbelief. She does not like to think about how he’d gone from smiling at her to watching her like an unstable kettle, ready to explode.

“He saw everything.”

“Mr. Sallow is one of the more…curious students at Hogwarts,” he says with a slight frown. “He’ll have questions if he hasn’t pried them out of you already.”

“He didn’t,” Siobhan shakes her head again. “He…he was nice to me.”

Professor Fig’s eyebrow twitches up but says nothing for a long moment and he ponders their discussion. 

“It appears Ranrok wants what we found in that vault—the locket.” He pulls said locket from his pocket and places it on top of the parchment spread across the desk. “There was an inscription. When spoken, this map appeared. Though, I’m not sure where we are meant to be led.”

Siobhan immediately focuses on a specific area of the map. “Here,” she points. “There are traces of magic.”

“I suspected as such,” Professor Fig nods. “That is the library, the restricted section, to be exact. Students typically need special permission to enter, but if you are with me—”

“Fig! I have work for you,” Headmaster Black interrupts, striding into the room without regard to the ongoing conversation. His sudden appearance causes Siobhan to flinch. “Come.”

“I am with a student!” Professor Fig counters in annoyance. “And my schedule is—”

“Your schedule will wait, indefinitely, as will your student,” the Headmaster briefly glances at Siobhan but it is clear he does not care for her presence. “I would think that after all the trouble you caused bringing her here, you would be eager to make amends.”

He leaves no room for further arguments. “My office. Five minutes.”

Siobhan remains silent as Professor Fig scowls.

“I’ve never known a more infuriating person,” he lets out a deep sigh. “I must apologize, Miss Sloane. Our trip to the library will have to wait. I shall find you after I’ve satisfied whatever inane tasks Phineas has for me.”

 She wants to protest, but Professor Fig is already rushing after the Headmaster. Alone, she inspects the map again and frowns. There is so little they know about ancient magic, and yet it seems like all she’s done is wait, instead of learning more. What if it takes over again and she hurts herself—or worse—someone else? She’s fearful, yes, but with a possible answer staring her in the face, she feels compelled to act.

Restricted section…

Siobhan straightens in recognition, recalling something Mr. Sallow mentioned on the way to Hogsmeade. She glances at the clock in Professor Fig’s office before leaving, wondering where Sebastian might be on a Friday morning. The possibilities might as well be endless, so it’s kismet when she quickly spots him loitering in a nearby alcove. He notices her approach, and for a moment she thinks he might run off, given what happened the other day. Instead, he looks…relieved.

“There you are,” he says, eyes darting over her form in a way that makes her skin prickle. “Where have you been? You didn’t attend any of our classes yesterday! I was worried something dreadful had happened.”  

Worried? Why is he worried about her? Siobhan is about to comment that something dreadful did happen when he continues. 

“Shouldn’t you be in Flying class?”

“Y—no,” she furrows her brows in confusion. “How do you know that?”

“Never mind,” Sebastian waves his hand in dismissal and that’s when she notices the white bandage wrapped around his palm. Before she can express her worry, he swiftly hides the injury behind his back. “Never mind,” he repeats with a sheepish grin.

Siobhan doesn’t know Sebastian very well, but from the limited amount of time they’ve spent together, she’s picked up on his overzealous demeanor. It’s intense, and certainly not a personality type she’s encountered before, especially from the opposite sex. Back home, the boys her age are aloof and think of her as the wallflower she is, if they think about her at all. Other than Poppy—and now him—nobody at Hogwarts has shown much interest in her.

“What happened to your hand?” she hesitantly asks.

“Potions accident. Weasley’s fault, really,” Sebastian softly chuckles as he shrugs. “Not to worry, Nurse Blainey assured me yesterday that I’ll make a full recovery.”

She blinks. “Yesterday?”

“Mhmm.”

“But I didn’t see you—”

“So that’s where you were hiding!” he exclaims, cutting her off. “I had a hunch you were up there, but Ominis said to leave you be. Are you alright?”

Siobhan hesitates, skeptical of his interest in her well-being. It isn’t like they are friends—are they? She nods, though she knows it isn’t convincing. She gestures to his bent arm, diverting the attention from her discomfort. “It wasn’t a potion accident, was it?”

He lifts and stares at his hand as if he’s forgotten it’s attached to his body. “It’s nothing.”

“It was me,” she says after a moment, even if the gaps in her memory make it difficult to be sure.

Sebastian’s smile fades and he relents, carefully removing the bandage for her to see. There’s remnants of a burn on his palm, red and splotchy skin that reminds her of when she accidentally spilt hot water on herself as a child. Guilt makes her chest feel heavy.

“I did this?” she asks in a whisper, stopping herself from reaching out.

“I’ve been hurt worse,” he assures, flexing his fingers. “It looks worse than it is, and since injury caused by magic can’t be healed by magic, I’ll just have to suffer.”

Siobhan frowns.

“Kidding,” Sebastian smirks, and with a flourish, he brandishes his wand in his right hand. With one quick movement and a murmured charm, the bandages wrap themselves back around his marred skin. “Good thing I’m ambidextrous.”

“It’s my fault, anyway, touching you without thinking,” he continues, a little more seriously as he repockets his wand. “You’d just blown up a troll with glowing blue magic! I’m surprised I didn’t melt.”

Siobhan shakes her head in frustration. “I don’t know how that happened.”

“That makes two of us,” Sebastian quips, even as his concerned expression returns. “Are you going to tell me about what we saw in Hogsmeade? Why does Victor Rookwood, of all people, seem so interested in you?”

It is easy for Siobhan to assume that Rookwood and Ranrok are after the same secrets she and Professor Fig are attempting to unearth. She doesn’t know what ancient magic’s role is—yet—but understands quite well that she is in danger. If the magic doesn’t kill her first, they certainly will. 

“I—I’ve never met him before,” she replies. “I think he’s working with Ranrock.”

He scrutinizes her—she isn’t lying, but she isn’t ready to tell him the entire story yet, either. She has a promise to keep to Professor Fig, and she isn’t sure whom else she can trust.

When Sebastian realizes she isn’t elaborating, he sighs. “You don’t have to tell me, but it’ll be hard to help you when I don’t know what’s going on.”   

“Help me?” Siobhan repeats, back to being confused about his enthusiasm.

“Of course!” he beams. “If you can defeat a troll, then I’m sure you can defeat an opponent in a duel, with proper guidance that is. I’ll tutor you.”

It’s a statement, not a question. 

“Oh,” she responds, momentarily stunned. “T—thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” he smirks and she feels her face go hot. Sebastian turns to grab a notebook from a not-so-neat pile on the nearby chair. “Speaking of, here. Yesterday’s notes for Transfiguration, Arithmancy, and Herbology. The last bit might be a little sparse…Professor Garlick says I haven’t the greenest thumb, but I’m still better at tending to plants than Hobhouse.”

Siobhan looks down at the notebook and flashes a tiny smile. She wasn’t expecting such a nice gesture and is grateful for the surprise, as overwhelmed as it makes her feel. Maybe Sebastian is a friend, after all.    

“I—” she pauses, hugging the notes to her chest as she contemplates just what to say. The wizarding world is still so new and fantastical to her that it’s difficult for her to make sense of the situation. Sebastian waits patiently for her to keep speaking. “I need to find something for Professor Fig, but it’s in the restricted section of the library.”

“Restricted section, you say?” he questions, delighted at the mention. “Is that why you were looking for me?”

“I wasn’t—”

“You’re a bad liar, Sloane.”

She’s too flustered to respond—is she really that transparent? Sebastian Sallow is one of the strangest people she’s met at Hogwarts by far, but something tells her he wouldn’t take that as an insult.

“I suppose I could wait to get a note from him, but—”

“Oh no,” Sebastian interjects, amused. “You can’t lure me in like that and expect me not to be interested. If you’re serious about sneaking into the restricted section, I’m your guy.”

Siobhan doesn’t think her cheeks can get any warmer. 

“Meet me outside the library tonight,” he instructs in a more serious tone as he gathers his belongings. “And tell no one.”

That evening, after dinner and a long bath, she sits on the edge of her bed in the Hufflepuff dormitory, watching as her roommates get ready for sleep. Poppy eyes her with suspicion, but Siobhan doesn’t say anything until Lenora and Adelaide are tucked away and snoring.

“Poppy?” she quietly captures her friend’s attention, hesitating before she asks. “If I wanted to sneak out after curfew—”

Poppy raises her hand and grins. “Say less.”

For the second time that week, Sebastian finds himself pacing, anxious as he counts his steps, waiting. Last time, he’d all but been forced into the situation by Professor Weasley, but tonight’s rendezvous is one he volunteered for. His thoughts are scattered—why did he agree to help Sloane? Sure, he’s curious, but he’s also sleep-deprived, overloaded with assignments, and should be using his free time to help Anne.

Considering everything that happened to them in Hogsmeade, he should be wary, if not downright terrified to be associated with Sloane. Barely two weeks and she has the attention of not only the leader of a goblin rebellion, but a gang of dark wizards. Either she has incredibly bad luck, or there’s something more serious going on. If Sebastian had the gold, he’d bet on the latter. But he’s always been fond of puzzles, and the mystery surrounding the new girl is too tantalizing to ignore.

He flexes his fingers when his wrapped palm begins to itch.

Curiosity kills the cat, or maybe it just burns.

Unlike Wednesday, Sebastian doesn’t let Sloane sneak up on him. He senses her arrival in the central hall and watches as she slowly makes her way to where he is waiting on the staircase landing. She’s dressed as if she’s heading to class, blazer and all, and he wonders what it would take to see her not so put together.

“You’re late,” he teases.

“I got lost,” she nervously explains, fidgeting with her sleeves. “I’ve never broken curfew before.”

“First time for everything.” 

When he crouches down, she follows suit, the two shuffling toward the nearby banister that overlooks the library entrance. It’s quiet, save for the prefect’s footsteps as they patrol the area. Unsurprisingly, Sloane looks worried.

“How do we get inside?”

“Sneakily,” Sebastian offers in a hushed tone. “Has Fig taught you the Disillusionment Charm?”

She shakes her head.

“Could’ve fooled me,” he continues. “What, with all the secrets you two are keeping.”

He means it as a joke—mostly—but if there’s anything he’s learned by now, it’s that Sloane might as well be impervious to his charms. Infuriating, but compelling—it won’t stop him from trying again. He pulls out his wand and she does the same, staring at him expectantly.

“It’s deception, rather than true invisibility, but as long as you keep your distance and stay quiet, it’s the perfect spell for getting into places you’re not supposed to be,” he explains before demonstrating the wand movement. “Like this.”

It takes Sloane a few tries, but Sebastian swears he spots the faintest smile just as she becomes shrowded, a translucent form he can barely make out in the dim light. He casts his own charm and the two start their careful descent down the stairs, pausing occasionally when a prefect passes by. She stops just as they enter the library proper and he is about to question her when he spots Scribner, doing whatever it is a librarian does after dark.

“Damn,” he curses under his breath, blindly reaching out to tug on Sloane’s arm. “Quick, behind the bookcase.”

In the nearby alcove, Sebastian removes the cloaking charm and takes a moment to think through their options. Scribner is usually gone by now, but of course she’s decided to stay late on the one evening he’s chosen to help Sloane. So much for making up for Hogsmeade.

“What do we do?” she whispers, visible again. Realizing he is still holding onto her arm, he lets go.

“Don’t worry,” he assures in an equally hushed tone, pulling a small key from his shirt pocket. “I lifted the key this afternoon, after our little chat. Figured it was best to come prepared.”

He hands it to her and then gestures to the other side of the room where a selection of bookcases are locked behind iron bars. “I’ll create a distraction so you can sneak over and unlock the gate. I’ll be right behind you. Trust me.”

Sloane hesitates, glancing from him to Scribner and the restricted section to him again. She nods, charming herself once more. Sebastian takes the cue, shrowding himself again before finding a perfect spot for a distraction—or destruction—they sound the same in his head.

One swift cast of incendio later, and Scribner is scrambling to investigate, leaving the path to the restricted section clear. He moves swiftly, grinning to himself when he sees the lock click open and the gate door open just enough to slip inside. Sloane keeps her disillusionment charm active until they are well out of Scribner’s sight.

“See?” he can’t help but chuckle. “Was that so difficult?”

Despite her earlier urgency, Sloane takes her time browsing the dusty bookshelves once they enter the lower levels. Sebastian idles along, taking advantage of the leisurely stroll to see if there is anything he missed during his last illicit visit. She focuses on an elaborate tome, but he stops her before she can pick it up.

“Don’t let it fool you,” he comments. “It’s charmed to look more useful than it is. Just gibberish.”

Sloane nods in understanding and he can sense her eyeing him as he traces the spines on a row of old books. “What are you looking for?” she asks.

“I’m looking for a cure for my twin sister, Anne,” he replies, before remembering that he hasn’t told Sloane about her quite yet. “She’s…sick. Has been for some time now, and wasn’t able to return to Hogwarts this year. It’s strange, not having her with me. She’s a Slytherin too, so the common room is less quiet than what I’m used to.”

“Everyone else has given up, but I haven’t,” he continues, a flare of anger makes his face feel hot. “I won’t let her down.”

“Why here?” Sloane asks after a few moments, still watching him as he flips through a book that has more to do with ancient wizard mating rituals—in Latin, of all languages—than cures for unknown curses. “Why the restricted section? Can Nurse Blainey not help?” 

“No!” Sebastian snaps, sighing when she flinches just enough for him to feel awful about his reaction. “We’ve tried everything. Not even St. Mungos was able to do anything,” he says in a softer tone. “That’s why I’ve been researching on my own. If I can’t rely on others, at least I can rely on myself.”

Sloane says nothing, but he appreciates her silence. Sebastian doesn’t like to talk about Anne’s situation, simply because there is nothing he finds more irritating than people’s hollow sympathies. Especially when they act as if Anne is already dead. She isn’t, and won’t die. Not if he has anything to do about it.

“What are you looking for?” he asks, changing the subject.

“A book,” she answers, without much more elaboration. “I’ll know it when I see it.”

“Cryptic,” he replies, smirking. “I like cryptic.”

They eventually move on from the area, down into a storage area that even Sebastian hasn’t explored. There are very few books, and when they reach a dead end, he’s about to suggest they double back when—

“Who have we here? Sebastian Sallow and the little lost lass, out exploring where they shouldn’t be!”

Peeves.

“Naughty, naughty! You’ll get caughty!”

Fucking Peeves.

Sloane bumps back into Sebastian, startled, as he glares at the poltergeist. “Peeves,” he warns through clenched teeth. “Don’t—”

“I’m going to tell!” the poltergeist cheerfully sing-songs, repeating the phrase over and over as he floats away.

“The hell you will!” Sebastian shouts after him, only pausing to reassure a panicked Sloane. “I’ll stop him, or at least come up with a convincing story for Scribner. I happen to be an excellent liar.”

She shakes her head, ignoring his comment. “I don’t want you getting into trouble for me.”

“A little too late for that, Sloane,” he remarks with a lopsided grin. “I’ll be fine. You’ll just owe me.”

Sebastian rushes away, glancing over his shoulder one last time to see Sloane’s concerned expression. “Thank you.”

Much like a game of cat and mouse, Peeves is waiting for him, laughing as he leads the way back to the main floor of the library.

“Sebastian Sallow, alone with a girl,” he taunts, flipping upside-down. “And here I thought they made you hurl.”

“You are the most insufferable spirit to inhabit Hogwarts!” Sebastian hisses, to which Peeves blows a raspberry at. “Ugh!”

As soon as they are back in the main library, Sebastian isn’t surprised to see Scribner but still freezes when she shouts at him in her shrill voice.

“Sneaking?” For a librarian, she is loud. “Again, Mr. Sallow? I had thought we were through with this mischief, but it’s clear that detentions are insufficient.” She clicks her tongue in disappointment as Peeves mockingly swirls around him. “I’m afraid I’ll need to report this to Headmaster Black.”

Oh, goodie. 

For once, Sebastian decides to keep his mouth shut, but that only seems to irritate Scribner further. She narrows her eyes at him and glances around the room. Out of the corner of his eye, he spots a flash of Hufflepuff yellow before it disappears like a flickering candle. Somehow, he knows she is still there, listening.

“Peeves informs me that you didn’t come alone tonight,” Scribner accuses, waiting for his confession. It would be very easy to throw Sloane to the proverbial wolves, especially when he has no reason to protect her from trouble. Professor Weasley’s words echo in his mind and he briefly recalls the way Sloane smiled inside Tomes & Scrolls.

He’d like to see it again.

Merlin, he hopes tonight wasn’t for nothing, and that Sloane will finally tell him what the hell is going on.

He gulps, then straightens, meeting Scribner’s gaze full on.

“There was nobody else,” he says, confidently. “I came alone.”

Thank you for reading! Reblogs, likes, comments and kudos are appreciated!

[ratsoh-writes]

Dealer’s choice. The skele is close friends with a selkie. One day, their friend calls them in distress, saying that a co-worker has been stalking them for a couple of months, and now this co-worker has stolen their seal skin. (For those who don’t know, Selkies are creatures that can take the form of a seal, and appear as human when they take off their sealskin. However, If a selkie loses their sealskin, they’re stuck in human form till they get it back)

Rancher: say no more. He marches straight up to the stalkers home and demands the seal skin. If they don’t comply, rancher threatens to throw their car into the river. He’s not fkn joking either. Rancher has the strength of a golem monster. Throwing a car would be like throwing a folding chair to him.

Wine: bold of you to assume friends stalker lasts more than a month. Unless of course friend had wine go all scary gold monster on someone before and told him he was banned from their drama. He’ll be all “THIS IS WHY YOU SHOULD HAVE LET ME DEAL WITH IT IN THE BEGINNING DEAR~”. Then he proceeds to absolutely ruin the stalkers life (and get the seal skin back)

Ace: if selkie friend is smart, they go to either boss or snipe first to ask to “borrow” ace to get their seal skin back. If selkie friend is not smart, they ask ace for help first without telling the responsible two brothers. The next morning they see their seal skin folded nicely on their bed. Oh and their stalker is dead now.

Star: he’ll have to get back to selkie friend to see exactly what the value of a seal skin is. Star can actually have stalker arrested for a felony if it’s costly enough. And it would give him reasonable cause to search the home too. Having a cop friend has its benefits

[monodramatic-cannibal]

drop this sunflower🌻into the inboxes of the blogs that make you happy! lets spread a little sunshine ☀️

Love the silly guy!

!!! thank you !!! glad that I make you happy Anon :DD

[sopiao]

HAI!! I LUV ALL OF UR WORK THEY GOT ME GIGGLIN AND SHIT 🤭🤭

can i request a young teen reader (like 15-16) being watched over and taken care of by their body guards, the 141. like. they’re sick and is part of a dangerous chain, they get hired to take care of you and just overall body guard you???

pls ignore this if this is too much or if you don’t feel like it! be safe!

EHYDHEHSHEHS TY TY TY!!!

this idea is actually so cute. i struggled trying to think for this 🤐

Tossing and turning in your hospital bed, you already read every book that was gifted to you and brought from your home. Already watched every show on the TV. Already made like a couple hundred paper cranes out of boredom. Hell, you’ve been here so long the flowers you got, when you were first admitted, has already wilted and died due to lack of sunlight. That’s how you felt

A soft knock on the door made you sit up immediately. You saw your doctor, your mom, and four strange men. Your mom never explained what she did, expect that you could never get involved in it, and never know what she did. All you knew is that it was dangerous, but she made lots of money from it so she could give you a comfortable life.

As always, she gave you a short and subtle explanation, as always. She introduced the men, but you took little to no interest in this. All you know was that you weren’t safe in a public hospital and had to stay somewhere more private and secluded.

Something like “Mommy got caught up with some people and you need to take a trip” You hated every time she baby explained something to you. You aren’t 5.

—

The car ride there was quite, Ghost having to hold his arm up the entire ride to keep your IV running. You already knew that you’d never be alone from that point on, always being monitored and with someone.

“We already prepared a room for you” Price explained, only earning a hum from you as a response. They didn’t find your silence and lack in response or communication rude or ignorant, just understood that some people like to talk and some don’t. Your room was right in the middle of the hallway, in between everyone else’s, assuming it was for your safety in case anyone found you.

Price let you open the door to see your reaction. The room was.. cozy. In a way. You can tell they tried. There were soft white fairy lights across the lining of the ceiling. It was a quilted comforter with many different patterns. Books laid out in the bed side table for you, ones you never read before. Soft rugs, and a huge and a plushy bean bag.

But what caught your attention the most was the overwhelming amount of stuffed animals that littered the bed. You wanted to laugh but only let out a little chuckle, the only other sound from you the entire time you were with them, aside from the occasional hum response.

They all watched cautiously as you slowly entered the room, looking around and inspecting each little trinket of the room they added, Ghost having to follow behind to keep your IV bag dripping.

“Is it okay for you?” Soap is the first to speak up, all watching how you just sit at the foot of the bed and just look around, noticing something new each second. Wow, they even got you the white princess canopy you wanted when you were like five. Even the skele-animals plushie you wanted six years ago. Most likely your mom told them about this. A for effort.

“Yeah, its… good” You softly nod, Soap and Gaz smile to each other.

“Told ya” you heard subtly from Gaz who stuck his tongue out at Ghost who just rolls his eyes and turn away, who starts to attach your IV bag to the metal pole. They’re hesitant to leave you by yourself, but you insist that you’ll just take a nap for a little bit.

—

A couple hours later, lunch, Price reminds Ghost to go in and ask you what you’d like for lunch. They can eat whenever they want, their more concerned for you. When he hears silence after knocking four separate times, not wanting to intrude on you. He just assumes that you’re still sleeping.

His heart drops to his stomach once he sees the bed empty, and you’re IV pole gone. He rushes into the house’s living room, alerting his teammates. First they do a scan of the house, maybe you wanted to use the bathroom, or check out the other rooms. When the rooms are empty they start to check out the outside, spreading out.

Price finds you in the backyard. Sighing as he relaxes and un-tense his body, slowly making his way towards you. You’re crouched in the ground, back facing him, with your IV pole standing beside you. His shadow looms over you, signaling you that there’s someone behind you, though you don’t say or do anything, just continuing watching the ants climb in and out of the small ant hill.

His shadow looks over you, signaling you that there’s someone behind you, but it doesn’t alarm you. You just continue staring how the ants follow in one singular line.

“Gave us a scare there, kid” Price grunts as he crouches down next to you, wondering what’s so interesting about them, earning the usual hum in response, the only time you’ve acknowledged his presence.

“What’re ya’ lookin��� at?” Price turns to look at you, hugging your knees and chin resting atop of them. He watches you use a twig to push a stray ant back in line.

“Y’know if you wanna go out, you should come and tell us, bring us along” He says in a tone that tries to convince you that they wanna spend time, but is really so you won’t be alone.

“Mhm”

—

Day 2. And you’re still stuck in this hospital gown. You try to look through the dresser and drawers for any clothes, or at least fresh underwear, or clean socks. But when you find the wooden drawers empty you escort yourself and the metal pole, you’re growing used to, to the living room where they’re all playing card games.

They don’t notice your presence yet, focusing on whether the other has the card they need or not. So, you just stand and stare at them, for a good 4 minutes until Gaz catches you in the corner of his eye. Jumping and dropping all his cards face up on the table.

They all laugh then turn once they realize that Gaz is staring at the hallway. Soap clears his throat and asks what you need while Price puts out his cigar to keep you from inhaling the fumes.

“I need clothes” Is all you said. The same expression plastered on their faces, just remembering that they forgot something.

“That’s what it was” Soap mutters.

“Told you we were missing something, idiot” Ghost scolds him, seems like a usual occurrence.

They end up having to drive to the nearest Goodwill to buy you some clothes. They knew that if your mother found out she’d be displeased, but you insisted that it’s where you wanted. You couldn’t leave and go around public in your hospital gown since it’ll raise suspicion.

Which caused you to have to borrow some of their clothes for the time being. Had to borrow Gaz’s pants since he’s the shortest from all of them, thought by only an inch, it was the closest size to you. It draped over you and covered your shoes. Soap offered his shirt which reached your thighs. Had a tear in the bottom.

Ghost decided to stay and stick with you while you picked up clothes, watching intently in what you picked out and what you looked at, holding up your IV, but not too high to make it that noticeable. Noting what you took interest in, processing your style.

“Didn’t know these still existed” Price came up to the two of you with Soap behind him, holding up a cassette player in his hand. Soap had an old digital camera, looking through the photos.

“You should get it, Cap’” Soap suggests, getting bored with the camera. You’re still looking through clothes, but still listening to them talk.

“What the hell would I even do with this?” He chuckles, inspecting the inside and each button to see if it’s functional— and not laced with crack.

“Mm-mm Just to have it?” Soap shrugs, taking the clothes out from your arm to hold for you, and to look at.

“That’s stupid”.

“They have cassettes at the front” You speak up, making them all look at you, since you never speak unless absolutely needed. They’re happy that you’re slowly getting comfortable to speak but don’t want to say anything to jinx it. Price just makes his way towards the front to look for them, you can tell by the little rushed way he walks that he’s enjoying himself.

You find a Dio shirt in the racks, their band dates and locations on the back, like something you’d by from a concert.

“Do people still listen to them?” Ghost whispers, mostly to himself, you can tell his interested. Never would’ve thought that he’d be into that band. You add it into your stash, laying it on your arm. When you get back to the house you end up giving it to him since ‘It doesn’t fit. Too big’ by what you said.

—

Gaz couldn’t sleep at all, it was way too hot. He walked out of his room, using the bottom of his shirt to wipe his face. He entered the kitchen to grab a glass of water but almost screams when he sees you by the counter, sitting on the edge with a sandwich in your hand.

“If you were hungry you should’ve woken one of us up” He sighed, hand on his chest to calm himself down, worried when he saw the knife next to you covered in nutella.

“No. Too much work. Didn’t wanna bother” You shook your head, already half way through your sandwich. He chuckled, looking through the fridge for the water pitcher.

“What did ya’ make?” Gaz asked, leaning against the counter next to you, taking a long gulp from his glass.

“Nutella and Cheerio’s” You take another big bite from your sandwich. He cringes at how sweet it must be but laughs at how often he’s tried it late at night too.

You two sit together in silence, occasional crunch from you eating your sandwich and a watery sip from Gaz. After you finish he asks if your full, shaking your head he offers to make you something. Looking up at him then nodding while muttering a thanks.

He makes you go sit in the living room and watch TV while he prepares something. There wasn’t much in the house but he made do with what he had in the house. After an episode and a half of The Amazing World of Gumball he came to the couch with two BLT sandwiches and two cans of soda.

“Didn’t even know we had bacon” You mutter to yourself as Gaz already starts eating, a muffled response you couldn’t really make out. You both just sit in silence once again, less awkward and more comfortable this time, as you both ate the food he prepped.

It was nice. Just eating sandwiches while watching cartoons at 2:14 in the morning.

—

You felt weak today, more than usual. Deciding to take a quick 20 minute nap, you wake up to loud talking, occasionally arguing accompanied by laughing, which made you a little irritated but you felt more energized.

Taking your IV pole with you, at this point you considered it a friend that followed you, you make your way to the living room, they’re all circled around the coffee table, either on the couch or on the floor.

You take a minute to watch before speaking up. Making them all jump when they notice your presence.

“What’re you doing?” You take a couple steps forward to look over their shoulders and see a Monopoly board and Monopoly money spread across the table.

“Wanna play?” Soap cocks his head to the side, scooting over to make room for you.

“I’ll watch” You take the empty spot next to him as they begin playing, less profanity and vulgar language this time, but still the same energy. Slowly you started to grow used to them. Laughed at how Gaz made Ghost pay up every time he hit his property, how Soap would take at least a minute to calculate his money for a deal, how Soap always got the short end of the straw, how they’d always fuck him over.

After a round they played again, but this time you were the banker. Handing out loans and taxes while you sipped on your juice box.

[gobbogoo]

Godwyn Theory - "Those Reborn In Death"

Elden Ring theory time! Some of you may have noticed that in The Land of Shadow's catacombs, Godwyn's corpse sits in the same place the Erdtree's roots normally go:

In the Lands Between, the Erdtree is normally responsible for granting people rebirth through these roots. By sitting in the same spot, it's implied Godwyn is fulfilling a similar function, and it just so happens that the DLC has a few new undead enemies that function differently from the rest. Here's how "Those Reborn In Death" differ from Those Who Live In Death:

1. Mechanics

These new undead don't play by the old rules. They can be put to sleep, don't revive, and most importantly aren't vulnerable to Litany of Proper Death. This has a HUGE implication! Litany of Proper Death is an incantation that invokes the natural order: it enforces death on that which SHOULD be dead. The fact that Those Reborn in Death are immune tells us that nature considers them "alive" despite all evidence to the contrary.

2. Appearance

While visibly not biologically "alive," Those Reborn In Death are notably less decayed than Those Who Live In Death, appearing more mummified than skele-fied, possessing both flesh and hair. Have a look at the new Catacomb Sorcerer compared to the old Tibia Mariner:

3. Intellect

Both the Catacomb Sorcerers and the Death Knights appear much more intelligent and autonomous than other undead, having created spells, equipment, and notions of duty and hierarchy beneath Godwyn. They don't just haunt in the catacombs like modt undead; they LIVE in them. The fact that they aren't immune to sleep emphasizes this. Most interestingly, the ghostflame techniques they've cultivated are unique to them: the Tarnished never learns any of their sorceries, and doesn't get a cool ghostflame cape when wearing the Death Knight's armour. (Miyazaki whyyyy)

4. Growth??

Those who looked closely at that previous Catacomb Sorcerer MAY have noticed a bizarre little detail... he's hiding a wee mummified baby beneath his robe!

In my eyes, this is the strongest piece of evidence for my "rebirth" theory, because that baby isn't being held. It's attached to that sorcerer's body, almost like it's growing out of him! Consider what we know of Godwyn: how his body grows and copies like a cancer. How else would a being like that grant "rebirth," than through tumorous replication? Fia said it herself: through rebirth, those trapped between life and death can solidify themselves within the natural order.

[sharpfamily]

Aesop On the Job

How will a former Auror and former professor Aesop Sharp fare, when faced with the responsibilty to take care of the house and his four chidren for the day after his wife is called away?

Pretty much just 5.5k words of family fluff and Aesop Sharp being a great dad. You can get more acquainted with the kids in their brief summary. Brought to you by @tea-withjamandbread and @aesopsharpmybeloved ❤

word count: 5.5k

tw: tooth-rotting fluff

Aesop didn't mind taking care of everything for the day. Of course he did not, his wife more than deserved this little day off. After all, she was handling the house and the children, and oftentimes assisted him in the shop as well. A renowned magizoologist reached out to her via Owl post, after Ellie Peck recommended her as the person to go to when it comes to graphorns. MC would be helping secure a little sanctuary for the beasts, so that they stayed away from muggles, and muggles stayed well away from them.

The younger woman was unsure whether she should leave Aesop and their children by themselves, but Aesop knew that she wanted to go, he saw it in her eyes. She always had an affinity for these beasts, for some reason Aesop did not understand. So, after some convincing and reassuring her that, while he could never compare to her level of efficiency, he was more than capable of handling the home responsibilities on his own for the day.

The shop stayed closed that morning, and the few orders he had he sent out the previous day using the post office owls.

Aesop kissed his wife goodbye as she slipped out before the children awoke. He of course gave her plenty of Wiggenweld, Skele-Gro, and some other healing concoctions, despite her protests she would be absolutely fine. Aesop wouldn’t take no for an answer, however, unable to keep himself from worrying. ‘Better to have them and not need them, than to need them and not have them’ he insisted to her, and she finally accepted. With one last wave, and a loud pop, she disapparated from their front garden. Aesop spent a minute or two looking at the spot she stood at a while ago, taking in the cool spring air. It had rained the previous day, and the scent of damp earth filled his nostrils, making him relax slightly. As always, it felt like time stood still in the small village of Willow Creek. Droplets of water were glistening upon the evergreen grass and leaves, the light wind made the trees around sing a soft song, and nobody seemed to be up and about yet. One of the neighbourhood cats walked around slowly, looking at him curiously for a moment, before deeming him entirely uninteresting and continuing its route.

It was quite earlier than Aesop usually got up, even when he did wake up to go to work. He considered catching a couple more minutes, maybe even an hour, of sleep, but ultimately decided to begin going about his day. He wanted to make his wife proud, after all.

The former professor made his way into the kitchen to begin preparing breakfast for himself and the children. He got himself a cup of tea first, his eyes skimming over the crisp pages of the Daily Prophet one of the newspapers’ owls brought in soon after he returned inside. He rolled his eyes several times at yet another attempt of David Spavin, son of the former minister Farris, to prove he was a better choice for the office than Venusia Crickerly, simply because his father was the longest working minister. Unbelievable. Venusia was a former Auror, and Aesop worked with her on multiple occasions. She was driven, hard-working, and completely dedicated to her job, while David Farris was the subject of several scandals throughout the years. Best keep that one as far away from the minister chair as possible, Aesop mused.

In a matter of a few minutes later, a pan was sitting upon the stove, and a couple of sunny side up eggs and slices of ham were sizzling away, filling the cosy kitchen with a mouth-watering smell. With a wave of Aesop’s wand, fresh vegetables floated off to the sink and washed themselves, before neatly arranging themselves upon a cutting board, just in time for a large knife to begin slicing them. Popps the Kneazle, lured in by the irresistible scent, began rubbing against his legs, and Aesop took mercy on the family pet and fed her two slices of the ham, before waving his wand to replenish the beast feed in her bowl in the hallway. Popps seemed quite happy with this kind of deal, and with a few more loops around his legs, she disappeared from the kitchen, presumably going to eat some more food, before going to curl up close to one of the fireplaces.

"Dad?" Came from the door, making Aesop turn. His oldest daughter was standing there in her long nightshirt and dressing gown, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes slowly. Aesop couldn’t hold back his smile. His daughter’s hair was sticking out in all directions, there was a bit of drool dried upon her cheek, and her dressing gown was inside out - something the eleven year old failed to notice. "Good morning, love. Have you slept well?" he asked softly, waiting for the girl to reach him, before kneeling momentarily to press a kiss upon her pink cheek and stroke her messy hair.

"I have, thank you," the girl replied. 

Aesop couldn't believe his little girl would be starting Hogwarts in just a few months. It felt like it was only yesterday he first held her in his arms, like no longer than 24 hours had passed since he first saw his wife nurse their beautiful newborn. He didn’t admit so to anyone, but he had no idea how he was going to fare with Magdala leaving to spend 70% of the following seven years at Hogwarts. He might have to take on more orders from the Hospital wing, just so he can catch a glimpse of his daughter outside summer and Christmas.

"Where's mum?" She asked curiously, oblivious to her father’s tiny emotional whirlwind. Aesop gave a chuckle, glad for the distraction: "Is it really so rare for me to be the one making breakfast? Quite the cad I am, I really ought to try to be better." "You cook dinner quite often. And help mum a lot," she said, shrugging her shoulders shortly before jumping up to sit on the counter, her small bare feet swinging slightly. "Watch for the knife, my sweet," Aesop warned, even though the knife was nowhere near the child.  

He pressed a slice of apple into her hand, and his daughter immediately took a bite of the juicy fruit. "Your mum went to help set up a Graphorn sanctuary," Aesop said, carefully flipping the ham and eggs over one by one.Not a second after he said it did Magdala's big brown eyes light up, and her mouth parted, revealing a small piece of the apple inside. 

Aesop’s automatic ‘Close your mouth and swallow your food’ was almost too quiet for even him to hear, but it seemed Magdala did, and she did as he asked, swallowing her bite before speaking:

"What?! Why didn't you tell me?" She squealed, wildly swinging her legs, looking like she was ready to immediately go and teach herself Apparition, just so she could join her mother on the adventure. Aesop knew that if she could, she most definitely would. Wouldn’t even change out of her sleeping clothes... "Because if we did, you wouldn't let her leave without you,” he said kindly, not wanting to upset his daughter, “While I trust your skill to handle beasts completely, I think a Graphorn, not to mention a full herd of them, may still be a little out of your size category, dear. But don't worry, mum took a camera. She'll bring you pictures." 

Maggie’s eyes dropped for a little bit, but it seemed she accepted Aesop's explanation, as a few seconds later, the mischievous spark returned into them: "I should hope so!” she grinned. “Can I help you with anything?"

"As a matter of fact, you can! Open your mouth, I need to know if I didn't put too much salt on them.” Aesop plopped a small piece of one of the eggs into her mouth, and murmured happily when she gestured at him that the eggs were alright. Content, he and Maggie plated the breakfast, making sure the meal was well balanced.

"So. What are we going to do today?" Magdala asked as she dutifully arranged vegetables on her siblings’ plates, making sure everyone had enough. Aesop meanwhile spelled the pan and utensils away into the sink to wash, and had the kettle fill up to make more tea. The one children drank was considerably weaker.  "What do you usually do on a day like this?" he asked. Maggie thought for a while. "Well, mum teaches us until noon. I'll show you where each of us is right now. We should be doing Maths today, and Theo and (FN) practise their writing and reading too."

"Then we do that,” Aesop agreed softly, “School things first, then I'll fix you with some lunch, and maybe we could all take a nice walk outside after that, get some fresh air." Maggie quickly spoke: "The twins need to take a nap after lunch, though. They get grumpy if they don't. That is, (FN) just starts to tear up easily, and Theo starts plotting mischief."

"I can see that it's vital I've got you here, partner. I'd be utterly lost without you,” Aesop grinned at his daughter and ruffled her hair again.

Aesop with Maggie's help made gentle work of waking the rest of the Sharp children. He stood in silent vigil as the bathroom filled with the sound of brushing teeth. Theodore would make frothy-mouthed faces at his father and siblings, and his twin sister seemed greatly amused by them. They got dressed on their own, and all their father needed to do was to fix a wrongly done button, every now and then when it came to the youngest members of the family. After breakfast (during which Theo only fussed about his vegetables a little bit), Aesop decided to give his children an hour of free time, so that they could prepare for their schooling. 

Magdala was ever so helpful in showing him what each of them did, and Aesop often checked with the books his wife left out for him. He had to admit, it was very lovely to be able to witness his children's little successes, and see the joy and pride in their eyes when he graded their assignments. Eleazar's fractions, while correct in solution, were slightly more complicated than necessary, but with Aesop's aid, they were able to find a way for the young lad to make the process a bit neater and easier. 

The twins were still getting used to handling writing with a quill, but Aesop was pleased their hands were only slightly ink-stained once they were done. (FN)'s script was neater and the young girl took her time making sure her letters turned out legible (though Aesop had to remind her to put her tongue back into her mouth), while Theodore had more of a scrawl every time he got distracted, but it wasn't anything too drastic in their father's opinion. 

"Shall I help you with lunch?" Maggie asked after they wrapped up for the day. "Thank you for the offer, my sweet. Don't you want to go outside and play with your siblings?" Aesop asked gently, after setting Theo down from the sink, his small hands once more clean. Maggie's cheeks flushed slightly and she looked at him from under her eyelashes. Aesop’s heart sang. He knew all of his children loved him immensely, like he loved them, but Maggie was a very obvious example of a ‘daddy’s girl’. He found he didn’t mind at all.

"You can help me peel the potatoes if you'd like,” he agreed finally, smiling when the girl’s eyes lit up. “Eleazar,” he called towards the middle child, who was currently neatly stacking his textbooks into the proper shelf. Aesop knew his son loved to have his things nicely organised, even his quills were sorted by size. “Will you keep an eye on your brother and sister?"

"Of course, dad."

And so Maggie once more found her spot on top of the kitchen counter, her little hands carefully peeling the potatoes using a small knife. Her mother and him took the time to teach their children how to handle sharp objects properly, as it was best that they knew how to keep themselves safe before being handed a dagger in their first potions lesson at Hogwarts and told to cut a mandrake up. Aesop kept an eye on his other children outside, the onion in his pot getting aromatic and making his belly rumble. It seemed all was fine, Eleazar entertained his siblings by what looked like some sort of modified game of land-Quidditch. Maggie seemed content to just be with her father, and Aesop wasn't able to stop himself from caressing her shoulder or hair whenever he walked around her. When his hands were clean, that is.

After their lunch of pork and mashed potatoes, Aesop brought his two youngest to their beds. Theodore visibly tried to stay awake, but the hearty meal made his eyes close on their own even before her sister fell asleep. And speaking of (FN), she insisted on holding her father's hand as slumber claimed her. 

With a final look, Aesop closed the door of their room and descended the stairs into the living room. His older children seemed intent on also resting after their food - Eleazar was curled up on the sofa with a potions magazine Aesop subscribed to, seeming very invested in whatever he was reading, while Maggie sat by the ever burning fire in the fireplace, drawing into the sketchbook Aesop got her after she showed her interest in drawing.

It warmed his heart to know his children took up something he too held dear. Maggie's drawings were getting better and better every day, and Aesop had no doubt there would come a day when she'll have reached his own level, or even surpassed it entirely. "What's it going to be?" He asked softly, not wanting to break her focus. "A mooncalf," she replied, showing her father. It indeed began to resemble the large-eyed creature. Aesop gave an admiring whistle. "I can't wait to see it when it's done. Listen, I'll be going downstairs to check up on some brews, and attend to a few orders that came by the mail today. Will you two be alright here?"

A pair of softly said 'Yes, dad's echoed through the space, and Aesop smiled. Before he left, he pressed a kiss into both children's hair. The house was well warded, and so he wasn't worried about missing any of his children leaving the property, or, Merlin forbid, anyone unexpectedly coming in. Besides, he trusted them. The twins were still quite small, and Theodore could be a handful if he wanted, but Aesop knew he was a good lad. A little wild occasionally, but he never misbehaved too terribly, and has always been clever and kind. It was actually (FN) who worried the potions master a little more. She was a shy one, and rather quiet. Nevertheless, her love for her family shone through her words and actions each day. And Theo doted on her and protected her fiercely. 

A memory made Aesop smile as he checked and adjusted the heat underneath his cauldrons. (FN), a few years younger than now, was feeling a bit under the weather after they returned from Hogsmsade one day, a combination of tiredness, hunger and general stress from being around so many strangers, and was still crying softly even after they got home. Theo ran into the garden and returned moments later, holding a single honking daffodil (pinched from Mrs Pruitt's garden no doubt). 

He presented his sister with the flower, and kissed her damp cheek. It was enough for her to stop crying, looking at her twin brother with big eyes. And then, in a moment forever written into Aesop's memory, the flower honked quietly, and his youngest child actually let out a small chuckle.

(FN) would be fine, Aesop decided finally. She not only had her parents, but also her extremely loyal and loving siblings to make sure of that. 

An hour or so later, Aesop ladled one of the finished potions into small bottles, making sure to stopper them tightly and place the proper labels upon them. 

It was surreal, knowing that at this time ten years ago, he’d be standing in front of a dozen or so of students, explaining what the use of Fatigue infusion was, and warning that anyone falling asleep in his class, be it from boredom or potion fume inhalation, will automatically receive a T. He did sometimes miss seeing some of his colleagues every day, not to mention some of the mischief the students caused was undeniably funny, but every single day he was thankful to have been able to resign his post, and leave behind a competent teacher, in favour of being able to see his family only a short while after he closed the shop at half past four in the afternoon, as opposed as having to spend extra time at the school hosting detentions or grading essays. Not to mention it felt great to be his own boss - therefore having a boss who was not an utter imbecile like Headmaster dear.

After making sure everything was well put away and taken care of in his little workshop, he washed his hands one last time and exited the cellar in order to check up on the children. The twins were still sound asleep, Theodore’s small snores reverberating off the walls. The former professor grinned at the sleeping children before quietly retreating to find the older ones. Another hour ticked by quietly and Aesop found himself discussing the potions in his magazine with Eleazar, while Magdala carried on drawing. The young lad was greatly amused by some of the interesting names inventors gave their original brews. 

When (FN) joined them in the living room, Aesop decided it was time for them to go outside for a bit. He made sure his children were well dressed, insisted on all of them wearing a hat (though Maggie complained about having her hair all matted later), and together they set off on a little walk around the village. He held (FN)'s hand, while Theodore ran laps around them, very curious to see everything, despite walking down this trail nearly every other day. Every once in a while, he'd appear holding a twig and playing with it as it was a wand, or, occasionally, a sword. He lost interest in it every time a nicer one appeared. El was being helpful and asked his father every time they came upon some flower or herb whether he should pick them up, and Maggie indulged her little brother every now and then, playing pretend duels with her and Theo's 'wands' and 'swords'. The weather was quite nice, and Aesop thirstily took in gulps of the fresh air. 

After they arrived back home, El decided to play a game of cards with Theo, while Aesop helped fix his girls' hair, and braided it for them too. He'd usually come home around this time. While the kids seemed content to entertain themselves and each other, Aesop did some chores around the house.

He cleaned Diana's perch, and was rewarded by an affectionate peck to his fingers by the dark owl, he dusted the surfaces with a flick of his wand, and made quick work of the laundry. He carefully folded and put away the twins' clothing, and put the older children’s clean garments into their rooms for them to fold and put away themselves. Maggie and Eleazar were expected to take care of their own rooms, and they've been doing a good job of it, El perhaps a bit more so than Maggie. Still, Aesop wouldn't consider his oldest daughter's room overly messy, more like properly lived in. There were a few papers there, some drawing supplies here, the occasional book she left open somewhere, nothing too drastic.

And when the sun outside set, Aesop decided it was high time for him to start making dinner. He decided on chicken with rice, light yet filling. He usually either helped his wife with dinner, or he took it off her hands entirely. He thought about her while he worked, hoping wherever she was was that she was alright and would be joining them soon.

As he cooked, listening to his children play and talk in the other rooms, he thanked his lucky stars. There was a time he thought he was going to die alone, a bitter old man with a lame leg, and all those years ago, he wouldn't have believed that he'd ever have what he had now. A beautiful, kind, and thoughtful wife, and four amazing, healthy and clever children. He thought of the fifth, of their firstborn. He often wished the little one had been given a chance. He'd have a happy home, filled with people who loved him. Clarence was loved still, of course, even though he wasn't physically there. Aesop wondered whether he's somewhere out there, with his own dad and Ashley. He hoped it was the case, and that all of them knew no pain, no fear, and felt the love he held for them.

The former professor cast a heating charm on the pot containing MC's portion of dinner. Aesop didn't know if she'd be hungry when she arrived, but better to be ready.

Once the family was done eating, and Magdala and Eleazar kindly offered to take care of the dishes, they took turns in the bathroom, and Aesop supervised the twins' bath time. This too was one of the activities he and MC split. He knew that the youngest children would soon begin bathing on their own, so he was happy to indulge them in whatever game either of them decided to play in the tub. A collective teeth scrub later, Aesop went to put the small ones to bed. The two older were allowed to stay up a little longer, and both of them chose to use this extra time for some more reading and drawing.

He once again held (FN)'s hand as she slowly fell asleep, and Theo was not at all fussy about going to bed now. His hair sprawled on the pillow like a dark halo, and he was soon snoring quietly. 

When he was done with the twins, he made his way into Eleazar's room to find the middle child already in his bed, waiting for him to tuck him in patiently. 

"Dad?" Eleazar asked quietly. 

"What is it, dear?" Aesop kneed by the bed so that his son didn’t have to crane his head to look up at him.

"Can I help you with the batch of Blood replenishing potion tomorrow?"

"How do you know I'll be brewing that tomorrow?"

"You said so to mum, the day before yesterday."

Aesop laughed softly. Ever since he let Eleazar first assist him down at the potion cellar, the young lad tried to get himself included in his brewing as often as he could. Aesop didn’t know why exactly were potions this fascinating to a boy his age, but he hardly complained. After all, it seemed Eleazar was born with all the natural potioneer instincts and talent Aesop himself only gained through hard work and countless hours of practice: "Nothing escapes you, does it? Hm... I think you could assist me with that one."

"Really? Thank you,” Eleazar said with a soft little smile. The lad definitely took after his mother more, all soft features and gentle eyes.

"Now sleep,” Aesop rose again, squeezing his son's shoulder lightly before giving it a little pat, “I can't have you nodding off into a boiling hot cauldron, can I?"

Eleazar giggled tiredly: "Goodnight, dad."

"Goodnight, my dear lad."

After kissing his forehead, Aesop left the room, leaving his son to rest. Maggie was last. She wasn't in her bed when Aesop knocked on the door and entered her room. Instead, the young witch was still sitting at her desk, drawing. Her father stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame for a minute or two watching how hard his daughter concentrated. However, it truly was getting late now, and MC would hardly be pleased if she found out he let the children spend half the night awake.

"Come on, Maggs. Bedtime."

"Daddy, let me stay up a bit longer?"

Aesop looked at his daughter curiously. It was clear from her voice that she’s been fighting off yawns, and her eyes were small and sleepy in the light of her desk lamp. 

"Come now, dear, you’re tired. Why don't you want to go to bed?" He asked, stepping further into the room and coming to stand behind Magdala, looking at the various drawings she’s done throughout the evening. There were unicorns and mooncalves, but he also recognised Popps the Kneazle in one, as well as something that could’ve been a graphorn, if graphorns were known to look positively cute.

"I want to wait for mum! I would like to see the pictures..."

"Darling, I don't know when your mum will be back,” Aesop said calmly, stroking at his daughter’s back, “she could come back after midnight, or even in the early hours of the morning, you can't be awake the whole night waiting for her."

"Please..."

Aesop sighed. HHe didn’t want her to spend the next day completely exhausted, but he also hated disappointing his children. But then again, the young girl now looked like she was minutes away from falling asleep right there at her desk, and so perhaps he could coax her to at least retire to her cot while ‘allowing’ her to remain awake. He had no doubt the issue would then resolve itself quickly.

“But only a little longer, and I want you in bed. I'll wait with you, how does that sound?"

Maggie luckily agreed to these terms, and began putting her drawings and her tools away. Aesop waited until she settled in her bed, and then sat at the foot of it.

"Do you think I could ever go see the graphorns?" Maggie asked, her arms folded loosely on her chest. "I'm sure you will one day.,” her father replied, taking a gentle hold of one of her hands atop the blankets after making sure they were snug around her, “When you're a little bigger. I know your mum treats them like cats, but you must understand that graphorns aren’t really cats. They are incredibly dangerous."

"So are hippogriffs,” the girl tried to argue back, even though her voice was getting more and more sleepy by the second.

"Yes,” he agreed, “but the hippogriffs you and your siblings come into contact with have known you all of your lives. Wild hippogriffs would not be this friendly, and I doubt the wild graphorns at the sanctuary will take to your mum as easily as those she already tamed."

"...Will she be alright?"

"Oh, of course she will. She'll be right as rain. And tomorrow, she'll show you all the pictures and tell you all about her adventures."

"Why not today?” she argued still, even as her eyes were now more often closed than open.

"As I said, I don't know when your mum comes home. And even if she walked through the door right now, you're entirely too tired to be looking at graphorns right now, my sweet."

"I'm not - “ the girl yawned loudly, “-m not tired."

"Of course you're not."

"Have you ever touched a graphorn?"

"Oh I did. Several times, actually. The ones your mother used to keep. I was not too keen on them in the beginning, but they did grow on me over the years."

"Which other beasts did she keep? Any that she doesn't keep now?"

And so Aesop talked about all of the beasts he encountered in his wife's vivariums, and later in that chest he helped her transfigure into the perfect place for animals. Maggie would occasionally ask a question, her voice quieter and quieter each time, until she stopped asking entirely. Still, Aesop sat with her, looking at his precious little girl. Her face was still that of a child, but her more grown up features began appearing in it as well, and Aesop had no doubt she'd grow up to be a real beauty one day, just like her mother was. He actually saw in her bits of his own mother, Maggie’s namesake, like the gentle slope of her nose, or the expressive eyebrows.

Before he realised his eyes were even closing, the former professor nodded off.

A gentle hand on his cheek woke him and he looked around in the dim room. His eyes caught those of his wife. "Hello, you," she chirped quietly, mindful not to wake their daughter. Aesop stifled a groan - his poor back. It bothered him whenever he fell asleep somewhere that wasn't his bed. MC's other hand held out a vial he'd never fail to recognise.

"You'll be pleased to know that your crate worth of Wiggenweld potions was entirely unneeded. That is, until I came here and saw you. Was this your plan all along?" she asked teasingly, her eyes sparkling even in the dark. Aesop quickly gulped down the potion and welcomed the near instant relief. He gave one more look to his sleeping child before letting his wife pull him to his feet and lead him out of the bedroom.

Once they were outside and the door was shut, he gathered the woman into his arms and captured her lips with his own. It was not a short ‘welcome back’ kiss either, the former professor would not allow his woman to leave his arms until he deemed her sensibly snogged and breathless.

"Hello," he finally greeted, his voice slightly hoarse from both his impromptu nap and the heated kiss they just shared., "when did you get home?" "Just now,” she replied, still holding onto him for dear life, “It's half past midnight. Sorry I took so long, but the beasts are now safe in their new home."

"I'm happy to hear it. Have you eaten? There's chicken with rice in the kitchen."

"I have, thank you. I'll save it for tomorrow. But I could definitely use a bath. One gets sweaty chasing graphorns around."

Aesop chuckled, dipping his head into the crook of her neck, a very special place he considered his home just as much as his house.

"Hm... You smell amazing though."

"And you're a liar, Aesop Sharp."

"I'm not. You smell delectable. I could eat you up."

She laughed softly at his words, keeping her volume sensibly low so as not to wake up half the house. The palms of her hands made contact with his chest in what was st likely supposed to be a teasing smack, but was way too gentle to be seen as much.

"Oh you... Come, let's have a quick bath before bed, she decided, leading her husband away by the hand from their eldest daughter’s room and towards their own bedroom, "How was your day?" "Definitely less thrilling than yours, but I enjoyed it very much” said Aesop honestly, sitting on their shared bed as his wife began pulling off her rather dirty clothes. “The children were lovely and very well behaved the entire day, did their school work without any fuss, (FN) writes very nicely, and Eleazar’s fractions are getting better and better with each exercise. And Maggie helped me cook lunch today."

"Would you look at that. You lot have been busy. I'm very glad to hear it."

"What about you?” Aesop asked, aiding his wife at removing the last bits of her clothing while beginning to work on his own garment. Their clothes immediately floated off to the hamper to be dealt with later. !I can see you’ve been rolling around a bit."

"I had to dodge quickly, some of the males were a little fussy. I've still got it though, only broke a little sweat,” the younger woman gave him a little grin, and Aesop felt himself fall in love with her all over again. It’s been over fifteen years since they shared their first kiss, their first embrace, since they first lay together, and yet a single look and a single smile made Aesop’s heart pick up pace and his knees go a little weaker.

"I'd never dare even mention the possibility of you not having it,” He said finally. Aesop knew she saw right past him, he was hyper aware that she was able to read him like an open book now. She knew all of his secrets, the entirety of his past, she knew where he was vulnerable the most.

He couldn’t wish for a person he’d trust more with this knowledge.

“So, about the bath…”

Hello, and thank you for reading! If you enjoyed this story, we'll be very thankful for any and all feedback, and you can also check this fic out over at AO3, where all of the other Sharp family fics are as well 🥰

[systemnamenotfound404]

Level 3 Killer Sans if that's alright with you

Loved to do this one reminded us of our undertale phase, myself im not too familiar with this au but i hope u like it and as usual feel free to change anything u need! -🚬

Name(s):  Killer Sans, Victor Blackwood ,Jasper Grimstone, Finnley Bonebrake, Silas Skeleton .Malcolm Mortlake .Edgar Deathwalker. Lucas Undertale. Finnley Bonebrake, Jasper Deathwatch, Victor Bonefist

Nickname(s)/Title(s): the Bone Collector, Lord of the Undead, Grim Reaper of the Underground, Skeleton Supreme, Death Incarnate, King of Bones and Flesh, The Unyielding Boneyard, Master of Morbid Merriment,Lord of Eternal Slumber, Harbinger of Doom and Delight

Pronoun(s): He/Him/Vrey/Vrem/Skull/skulls/skullself/Bon/bones/boneself/Skele/skeles/skeletonself/Film/films/filmself/Movie/movies/movieself/Clay/clays/clayself/💀/💀s/💀self/🎞️/🎞️s/🎞️self

Age: Ageless

Gender: Male. agender, genderless, neo-gender, jiraihaunted ! ☆ jiraikeihaunted , bloodylovedyou, Fluidevil

Sexuality:  Heterosexual, gay, bi-curious- demi-sexual, ace

Species: Skeleton

Role: sp protector, trigger blocker, systecor, memory thief

Source: Undertale AU "Something New"

Emoji sign offs: 💀👻

sign-offs: Later, human!

Front triggers (pos/neg/neu):

Positive: dogs, watching old movies, video games

Negative: broken bones. being controlled. someone trying to manipulate th system. overworkin. body doing too much work ((hell come around and make everyone lya down)

Neutral: going outside for a walk, late evening hang out, being "lazy"

Likes/dislikes:

Likes:

Killing humans (though he's developed some qualms)

Playing video games

Eating bones

Being lazy

His dog, Gaster

Philosophical discussions

Dark humor

Old movies

Dislikes:

People who try to harm the system

Being forced to do chores

Losing at video games

When his dog leaves him alone

Moral absolutism

Overly cheerful people

Killer Sans is complex with a multifaceted personality that goes beyond his usual personality. He's a laid-back, somewhat sadistic skeleton who enjoys causing mayhem but also has a soft spot for his fellow system mates and would do anything to protect them. Despite his tough exterior, he can be quite emotional and caring towards those he considers friends.

Killer Sans struggles with internal conflict, often questioning the morality of his actions. He's developed a philosophical outlook on life and death, which sometimes leads to deep conversations about the nature of existence. His love for old movies and dark humor suggests a more refined taste than one might expect from him.

He's deeply loyal to Gaster, his canine companion, and will go to great lengths to protect him. This loyalty extends to other beings he comes to care about, making him a reluctant hero when necessary.

Killer Sans has a tendency to procrastinate and avoid responsibility, often leading to humorous situations where he puts off important tasks until the last minute. This quirk, combined with his laziness, makes him both relatable and endearing to readers.

Despite his ageless appearance, he has experienced loss and gained wisdom over time. This has led to a more nuanced understanding of life and death, making him less of a straightforward villain and more of a complex character with depth.

Typing Quirk: : None notable, but he tends to use outdated slang and occasionally types in all caps when excited or frustrated.

Faceclaim:

Extra: He has a dog named Gaster who often appears alongside him. Killer Sans is known to have a secret talent for writing poetry, particularly about mortality and the fleeting nature of life.

Hex code: Hex code: #000000 (black, representing his skeletal appearance)

[cvbullshit]

AHHHHH I am almost done with the big pride month art I have planned

Gotta say tho, if you're not a fan of any Gaster x Sans stuff then prepare to possibly see something you may not like

I remember I talked with people about Sans x Gaster stuff and I got mixed but mainly neutral to semi-negative responses, which kinda does disappoint me because I think it's the whole "Gaster is Sans and Papyrus's dad" headcanon kinda ruined the concept of the ship for the fandom(plus the fact that there's not much to go off of)

I will say though, the Sans and Gaster I am shipping in CV have no relation to each other or their respective Sans/Gaster from their AUs, so it's not gonna be like that

In fact, the only AUs in CV that have Gaster related to the skeleton brothers are specifically AUs where it's made to be that way, so any headcanons of "Original Gaster and Original Skele Bros are related" aren't a thing for any AUs that have no confirmation of that concept being true

XGaster also counts for this category because X and XPapyrus aren't his biological children and in CV he never actively adopted them in one of the timelines, XPapyrus is the only skele bro that has a father-son-ish relationship with XGaster simply because he's more or less taking over XChara's role as XGaster's second child, even then XGaster sucks as a dad for XFrisk and still sees XPapyrus as a simple creation to make the perfect timeline so XPapyrus was never actually adopted anyway

Mainly adding all this so those can understand the main relationship chart between CV Sanses and their Gasters before I post art that people might scream at me about because of THEIR personal headcanons

[mossycobblestonewrites]

MAKE ME WRITE CAMPAIGN

Undertale WIP - TA

Relationships - readers mom x skeles

Desc - reader is the only child of a single mother, and as such it is their duty to fight off the men with a stick. Mom has been keeping this relationship a secret to get to know the guys first. WILL BE WHOELSOME.

Excert from WIP under cut

“Are you scared mama?”

“No, baby, just nervous.”

You resisted the urge to smirk, “Why? All they have to do is pass the vibe check.”

Your mother shook her head with a chuckle, “And if they fail?”

You grinned evilly, “I wore my boots today! And these boots are made for walkin’!”

She laughed at your joke, continuing to guide you through the restaurant. You could not deny your own anxieties as you drew closer to the ones that your mother held fond affection for. Part of you hoped they were good, part of you hoped they passed the ‘vibe check’, and part of you wanted your mama to find people that would make her happy.

Part of you was selfish. You wanted her to be happy and loved like she should be, but you also didn’t want to lose her to some random man - or four or whatever. You knew she would never, but you were nothing if not a preteen with an overactive worrywart complex.

You chewed on your tongue the closer you drew, “You still not gonna tell me anything about them?”

“I don’t want to influence your impression.”

You rolled your eyes, grabbing the back of her cardigan as you both came to a stop. You could hear several people standing from their seats as you shrunk behind your mother, pressing your face into her back. As much as you liked to think of yourself as a strong independent person with a steal conviction, your anxiety ruled you with an iron fist.

“DARLING, HELLO!” A loud voice boomed from somewhere to the right. You pressed harder into your mama’s back, already overwhelmed by the sheer presence of the voice alone.

She laughed, stepping forward to hug the man, your eyes catching sight of blue gloves enveloping her as you grasped at her cardigan.

“Hello, Blue!” She turned away from him to the others, “And hello to everyone else as well!”

Several voices called out in response, far too many for you to even comprehend. Holy shit how many boyfriends does Mama have??

The loud one with the blue gloves - Blue (ironic), stepped to the side, presumably to get a better look at you, not that you gave him a chance. You pressed yourself into your mama’s back once more as your mama laughed.

“This is (Y/n), she’s shy, but don’t worry, give her about 20 minutes and she should open up!”

Fat chance! There are way too many people here! Though you always ate those words.

“THAT IS OKAY! HELLO (Y/N)! IT’S VERY NICE TO FINALLY MEET YOU! WE’VE ALL HEARD SO MUCH ABOUT YOU!”

You nodded at his words, curling even further into your mama. She snorted, turning to an angle at which you could no longer use her as a shield. Traitor! You twisted inward, heart thumping loudly as you crossed your arms securely over your chest. You chanced a quick glace upward, and, wow. That's a lot of skeletons.

You never had a problem with monsters, in fact, it didn’t really surprise you that the group that your mother was dating was monsters. It made a lot of sense, cultural-wise, not that you had much cultural knowledge to begin with.

Any rationality that you had slipped from your mind as the sheer number of strangers trying to talk to you comprehended. You bit into your tongue, grabbing onto your mama’s arm as she chuckled.

“You gotta say hi, punk,” she whispered into your ear, kissing the top of your head. You turned into her as you raised your hand for a quick wave, blocking out everything around you as you were led to sit.

[itty-bitty-mess]

TW: BITTYBONES AB//USE, BITTY WHUMP, BITTY T*RT//URE

Currently thinking about separating bitties from their babies. Just think about it, your tiny little bitty has just given birth, tears of joy stream down his face, his little soul is filled with pure love for this tiny little thing, he has quickly latched onto the thumbnail-sized skele baby and has formed an emotional bond that would be unbreakable.

He is hugging it, holding it close in his arms, cooing to the little thing, telling it about all the wonderful things he and the newborn will do together and promising that you'll take care of both him and the baby. One of those things is true, actually. Because no matter how attached and protective a bitty gets towards his baby, he's straight up incapable of taking care of it.

They were created and made to be eternally childish, thinking that “Mommy” and/or “Daddy” are just there to please and spoil them and nothing else, not made to develop a true sense of responsability over something else other than themselves. Some are even unable to function properly by themselves (like Cherries), while others are eternally stuck on being little childish brats with massive egos (like Baby Blues and, to some extent, Papys). Some are highly aggressive and will most likely hurt anything that moves or breathes on their direction, even babybones (like Edgies). They rely solely on their owner and exist in a world not made for creatures their size. In a world were anyone and anything can accidentally dust them if they are in the wrong place at the wrong time. They're useless as parents and are unable to keep their babies alive without accidentally dusting them somehow.

Your bitty carefully places his beloved little baby on your hand, he trusts you and wants to show off his little one to you. He feels extremely proud of himself. He genuinely believes that youll give it back, but you wont, for the good of the little baby, of course.

Your bitty screams and cries as he sees you rise back up with the baby still on your palm. He doesnt understand whats happening, why are you taking his baby away?? Give it back!! Thats his baby!! HE made it, not you!! He demands you put the baby down, give it back to him, please!! He breaks down on full sobs as you step away from the cardboard box he's in, the one he gave birth in. He can't see you anymore, but he can hear his baby crying!! Give it back!! Please!! His baby needs him!!

But the reality is that his baby DOESNT need him, in fact, his own immaturity is a bigger danger to the baby than you are. He bangs on the walls of the box, you make your way to the door, going into a different room but he can still hear his baby crying. PLEASE GIVE IT BACK!! PLEASE DONT TAKE AWAY HIS BABY, PLEASE NOT HIS BABY!!!! NOT HIS DEAR LITTLE BABY!!! HE JUST GAVE BIRTH TO IT, GIVE IT BACK!! GIVE HIS BABY BACK!!

He stops banging the insides of the box, as he hears you close the room's door. He's alone, without his baby, without the little joyful soul he carried on his ecto belly for months, without a part of himself. His eyes land on the floor inside the box, which had been covered with newspaper for the baby's birth. He feels his breath catch on his throat, he feels dizzy and even throws up a little.

Finally, he breaks down crying. Loud sobs echo through the house, he falls to his knees, utterly heartbroken. HIS BABY!! GIVE HIS BABY BACK!! HE NEEDS HIS BABY!! PLEASE!! GIVE HIS LITTLE BABY BACK!! ITS HIS, NOT YOURS!! HE NEEDS TO HOLD HIS LITTLE ONE ON HIS ARMS!! PLEASE DONT TAKE IT AWAY!! HE NEEDS TO SEE HIS SWEET LITTLE BABY, PLEASE JUST ONE LAST TIME!!

He screams, and cries. He drags himself across the floor. He's utterly heartbroken, he feels like his little soul is about to shatter into a million pieces. His colored tears stain his face, which is contorted in the most heartbreaking, pained expression youve ever seen. Months of love and anticipation gone in seconds, alongside his baby. He screams his baby's name, the one he chose all by himself, as if somehow that would make it suddenly appear on his arms.

He hugs himself, imagining he's still holding his little bundle of joy. He touches his belly where his baby once was, tears fall nonstop, maybe if he wished hard enough a new soul would appear on his belly and he would get a new baby, one you would not be able to take away from him, one that he would care for on his own and love and adore and protect and feed all by himself without anyone separating them.

But that would never happen, because even if he was ever allowed to get another baby, he would accidentally neglect it, trip and drop it or feed it poison unknowingly. It just isn't on a bitty's nature to be a good parent, they were designed to be immature playthings, they were not made with the idea of them being decent guardians to their offspring.

You place the little baby on his new home, a big plastic tub. There's other babybones there, theyre all either asleep or exploring their little enclosure, not even missing the bitty parents they were recently separated from. The tub has tall enough walls so that curious babies cant crawl out of it. The bottom is covered with an extra fluffy towel, cushioning them from the hard plastic of the container.

The newborn baby looks at you with curiosity and adoration on its big eyes, it smiles and giggles a little when you smile back at it, extending its little arms on your direction. You just know that, while the bitty parent is on the other room on the verge of dusting out of pure heartbreak, the little baby he's crying for already forgot about his existence for good...