outcodesanctuary

[outcodesanctuary]

Don’t Leave Me Behind

Okay, this one is set in a version of Outertale, in which some wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey stuff is going on relative to other versions. I got the idea from the way Outertale Sans is depicted - his jacket has horizontal stripes running across it - so I decided to age him and his bro down in whatever Outertale stuff I wrote. I mean, space boy scout Paps would be awesome. Then, of course, I saw the Frans prompt and thought - I can work with this. So, Sans is a kid, and Frisk is an approximately equivalent age. That said, on with the show.

Fluffy baby-blue slippers scrunched through the permanent layer of snow someone had managed to create, their little yellow stars twinkling in counterpoint to the myriad points of light strewn across the darkness above. Occasionally, the young skeleton to whom the slippers belonged was prone to pondering how this snowy gown for the land had been achieved, but not today. How could he have lost track of the human? They had been right there! Had he dozed off or something? Well, that had a tendency to happen sometimes, but this was important. His copiously fluffy hood bouncing along with his anxious not-quite-running pace, he fidgeted with the pompoms dangling at the ends of his jacket’s tassels. What if they were in danger? There were plenty of monsters who’d leap at the chance to harm a human, considering how very valuable their seventh and final soul happened to be. Not so long ago, he might have been one of them, for all that bold yellow stripes still wrapped around his jacket at the middle. Being able to finally drink in the azure sky waiting for them, to see the clouds drifting by, to revel in the warm radiance of sunlight, to share all of this wonder with his little brother – the desire was a burning hunger within him. However, when he had found solace talking and joking with the motherly voice behind that old door, some of the things she had to say – well, she gave him plenty of food for thought. That, and a mission. She had sounded so torn, so… grieved – there was no way that he could say no. She wasn’t his mother, he knew that. She was close enough, though, and he gave her his word. He would protect the human.

Now that was all very well and good in the moment, all noble and stuff – she’d been ever so grateful and relieved – but the practicalities of it were starting to get to him. If his Dad had been home, he probably wouldn’t have been able to get away with spending so much time out tailing some other kid – but then, if Dad had been home, he probably wouldn’t have spent so much time with the Lady of the Ruins that she would entrust such an important duty to him. It wasn’t that he didn’t like the human – they were actually pretty cool, and they got on well with Pappy – but they wandered off so much that keeping tabs on them was something of a quest in and of itself. What were they trying to do, explore every inch of their frigidly starlit prison? That was an excellent idea, if they wanted to run into as many monsters as possible. What were they thinking? Snow gave way to stone as he descended into Starfall, whose relatively warm caverns provided some respite from the vastness of space. Starfall was also the only place large quantities of liquid water could be maintained. Even so, it was enchanted to the point of glowing - they couldn’t afford for it to be lost to the vastness.

A familiar form stood peering at a glittering wall not too far in, and Sans sagged in relief. They didn’t look hurt or scared, which was good, but they also didn’t look all that alert. What if someone snuck up on them? “hey, buddy. mind not giving me so many scares? you know i worry when you make yourself scarce.” He sighed, coming up alongside them, allowing himself a wry smirk as they nearly jumped into the wall they’d been examining so intently. “Sans!” They squeaked, in startled recognition, looking faintly sheepish in the low light. Well, at least they seemed to realise that they’d goofed, he mused. What had they been looking at, anyway? Oh. There on the wall, painstakingly picked out with colourful crystals, dawn was breaking. The soft glow of the stones pulled at his soul as he stared for a moment, until he broke his gaze, sockets sliding shut. “heard about the wall art, huh?” A soft sound of affirmation answered him, and he chuckled dryly. “ironic, isn’t it? back on earth, monsters used to wish on the stars, you know. at least, that’s what they say… now that we’re up here? well, we’re surrounded by them all the time. maybe wishing only feels right when you’re sending that wish someplace far away, i dunno. in any case, it kinda makes sense to wish on the thing we’re all wishing for, doesn’t it? or maybe i’m wrong… what do you think, pal?”

Opening his eyes, Sans watched as the human’s expression shifted, trying to follow their train of thought. He was generally quite good at reading people, but right now? It was hard to tell what was going through their mind. There was still an undercurrent of determination – that one just never seemed to go away for some reason – but the human looked… well, they looked kind of like the lady had sounded. Torn. He felt a pang in his soul as their features seemed to crumple with some inner conflict – was that wistfulness warring with fear? Shame? Were they angry? Whatever they were feeling, it was boiling just below the surface, and he couldn’t look away. A shock of fizzing coldness shot through his bones as he recalled one of the stories he’d been told, that of the Green-souled lost human. What if..? No. No, he wouldn’t let them. The king would have to do without his pal. He’d grown too close to lose them now. “buddy? you okay there? talk to me, please.” Had he done this? Maybe he should have just kept his big mouth to himself. His unlikely friend’s expression settled, relenting to their willpower, and gazed straight into his sockets. His spine prickled oddly under their suddenly-compelling eyes, and the same intuition that had guided him through so many dangerous situations whispered to him.

There was an eerie sense of power in that gaze, and he could practically feel the determination rolling off of them into the cool air. It was sometimes easy to forget that his buddy was… a little different from the humans who’d come through here before. The way they laughed and joked, the eager bounce in their stride as they sought out new delights in every corner, their breezy acceptance of everything they beheld – not now, though. Not when it was staring him in the face – quite literally – as though weighing up his soul. For a moment, it wasn’t clear whether or not they would speak, or even move – if it wasn’t for the ever-present sound of trickling water, Sans could almost have sworn he’d accidentally set off his Pause again – but then they lowered their eyes, and he could breathe. “I made a wish, too.” They murmured, their tones muddied by emotion. “If my wish can come true, then… then yours has to!” Their voice cracked, and they reached out to press their grubby fingertips to the jagged-smooth surfaces of the dawn. “Maybe I got my wish so – so that I could make yours real, too.” He felt his eyes darken as his soul lurched and flickered within him – this couldn’t be happening! Why couldn’t anyone just stay? He didn’t want to lose them, too! Maybe… maybe he could fix this – there had to be something he could say, something he could do.

“buddy, pal, please – you can’t give up now… i didn’t mean to rattle your bones like this – you don’t have to do anything… reckless… you know pap’s waiting to show you his cool action figures, right?” don’t leave me behind – don’t go – not again – please! He was fidgeting with his tassels again, his eyelights slowly dimming into view as he fought to keep his cool. He didn’t know how to handle this situation, and it showed. He wanted to reach for them, to rest his hand on their shoulder, but – what if they shook him off? What if they went careening off into the tunnels? This was Gerson’s stomping ground! The human blinked, eyes flicking back to his own, bewildered concern writ across them. Skinny, sweater-swaddled arms wrapped themselves around him tightly, and he could feel them breathing. They were warm, as though they carried a little heatstone within them wherever they went, and they smelt sweaty, with faint hints of a bakery. Were they trying to say goodbye? His fingers dug into the baggy rough-soft of their sweater, and he held them close. “I – I wasn’t gonna let Papyrus down! I wanna see his toys!” They protested – they sounded hurt by the idea that they might disappoint the Papmeister, and their words carried a timbre of alarm. Didn’t they understand? Or – or was it working? Could he dare to hope? “you… you could stay with us, if you want to.” He offered carefully, trying to keep his tone level. “i bet paps would love having someone else to play with – i know we don’t have much right now, but it’d be great, i’m sure it would… i mean, you’re practically one of us by now… whaddaya say, buddy?”

Did he sound desperate? He was almost certain he sounded desperate. How pathetic. Was this how the lady had felt, before he’d made his promise? It hurt. They trembled, clutching at his jacket tighter still. “I – I – it wouldn’t be safe…” Their voice was hoarse and shaky with something raw and hurting – something akin to longing. “Someone would find out – I – I’d get you in trouble!” Fear. It was clear that they were convinced that, sooner or later, harbouring them would bring awful consequences. “I ha-ave to keep moving… but I won’t give up! I – I promise! I’ll find a way to – to set you free.” Sans wanted to deny, to soothe their fears - but he could all-too-easily picture what could happen if someone found out that the human was holed up somewhere. They could be surrounded. A promise… The words clanged around inside his skull like bell clappers, and he felt the world shift. A muffled gasp escaped his friend, as they took in the change of scenery. He still hadn’t quite worked out how to disentangle his shortcuts from his emotions, but… at least this place was pretty out of the way.

They were in a hollow behind one of the many waterfalls keeping the water aerated, the sound of the rushing liquid seeping into the little space with the shifting-shimmering light of the water. One could almost believe that the glowing fluid was starstuff, its soft luminescence setting the gems of the walls to shine like nebulae. Sans often came to this spot when he needed to clear his head, and relax for a while. “buddy…” Sans began, uncounted moments after their arrival. “slow down, okay? let’s - let’s not get too hasty. uhh… do you want to talk about it? kinda sounds like this is cutting you to the bone.” He couldn’t make them talk - goodness knew he couldn’t be convinced to spill the beans on anything he didn’t want to - but how was he supposed to look out for them if he didn’t know what was making them tick? Did they trust him? They let go slowly, shifting uncomfortably, but they showed no sign of being about to bolt. He released his own grip, and shuffled awkwardly.

The sounds of fidgeting and water ruled the damp air for a while, but not forever. “I… Freedom is important, Sans. I can’t - I can’t not do anything! It… it was my wish, too.” Their fingers were trembling, but their breathing was growing more even - he had to hope that this was helping, even as his mind grappled wildly with their words. They paused, trying to figure out how to continue, what they could say, and Sans took the opportunity to weigh in. “if it takes your soul, i don’t want it. you’re important, too.” They rocked on their heels, eyes widening. Had anyone ever told them that before? No wonder they’d ended up in a place like this. Just what were they running from? He held their gaze, willing them to believe him. “I don’t even - I don’t know if anyone can take it… I - I always just - I end up back before…” They admitted haltingly, and he froze. He wasn’t sure he could process all those implications just yet, but he made a mental note to set aside some time to freak out about them later. “There - there’s gotta be another way - there has to! I’ll find it - I will - and then…” They trailed off uneasily, wrapping their arms around themself as they sank to the ground.

“I - I don’t wanna go back, Sans…” They mumbled, not meeting his eyes. “I’m scared - I don’t wanna lose my wish, but… I really can’t not do anything. Even - even if nobody was chasing me, it’d eat me up inside… but if I find a way - nobody else will wanna stay, will they? If - if I wanna be free, then… I’ll be all alone.” Stunned, Sans didn’t move for a moment, before gently sitting himself down next to them. He couldn’t think of anything to say right away, so he just sat there, hoping that he was somehow helping. Eventually, though, he spoke up. “wow, that’s, uhh… that’s quite a toughie, huh?” Real smooth, Sans, that was bound to make them feel better. “but, you know, i don’t think it would be as simple as all that, even if you’re right about there being another way. it takes time to move from place to place, even if you’re moving to somewhere on the same bit of land. there’d still be plenty of folks milling around out here for a while - and it’d probably take a while to sort out how and where folks would be moving to. after all, it’d be pretty tricky to just plonk a bunch of monsters somewhere random on a planet full of humans, and expect everything to be dandy. we’d want to know what we were getting ourselves into before anyone tried to move in - our info is kinda out of date. even then, there are folks who might not even want to leave this place behind entirely. having a safe haven in case things go wrong could be pretty handy, and there are people who’ve lived here all their lives. not to mention, with the barrier down, we could probably look into finding other planets to colonise as well. no more keeping all our eggs in one basket.”

As he rambled, Sans could see and feel that his buddy was starting to relax - that was good. He wasn’t sure quite how he was managing it, but he knew he couldn’t stop yet. “hey, uh, buddy? i… i don’t really like making promises too often - they’re kind of a big responsibility - but… i’ll promise not to leave you behind, if you’ll promise not to leave me behind.” Their face, though still kind of flushed and red around the eyes, lit up with hope. Their arm shot out, a hand waggling its smallest finger in his face. “Do you Pinkie Promise?” They challenged - there was really only one answer to this. “cross my heart.” He quipped, the smooth bone of his own finger meeting the soft skin of theirs. His soul was probably heart-shaped enough to satisfy them if they got picky about his not having a heart, he figured. “Then I do, too.”

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Let Me Be Strong For You

An Alphyne short story for Undertale Shipping Pride Month. Maybe it’s not as fluffy as I would have liked, or as interaction-laden, but I hope someone likes it.

Sometimes, Undyne felt like such a fraud. Not all the time, or even most of it, but that somehow lent those moments more power. She couldn’t afford to let it show, though - there were people counting on her to be the tough boulder-suplexing strong fish that she was.

Asgore - her king, her mentor, so much like a father… But she wasn’t his child. Everyone knew what had happened to his children. Sometimes, she caught herself about to call him something she was sure would gnaw at his strained old soul, and she felt a wash of cold fill her at each realisation. She couldn’t let herself hurt him that way - she had seen far too many of his painful smiles already, and she couldn’t bear to think of what it could do to him if she was careless. His abiding gloom had led her to fear for his Hope for years now - he seemed a little better, but where was the line?

Papyrus - her trainee, her friend, so much like a brother. He wasn’t her brother. Sometimes, she wondered whether Sans resented how much of his brother’s life she’d taken root in. She’d never heard Pap mention any other family or friends before the human dropped into their lives. Was each other all they had? She wouldn’t just budge over for a grouchy lazybones, if he ever was grouchy, but she didn’t like feeling as though she was pulling them apart either. Good thing Papyrus was able to convince him to take sentry duty on board - sort of. She also had the unnerving impression that he knew exactly why Papyrus had not been accepted as a Royal Guard. She honestly couldn’t tell whether he approved or disapproved of her keeping his brother’s dream from him, and that thought made the scales on her back prickle. Had she failed Papyrus? A mentor was supposed to guide their trainee, tell them how to improve, what they were doing wrong - she could never tell him that she didn’t believe he had it in him. It left a sour taste in her mind, and she felt like a traitor.

Frisk - her bestie, her kingdom’s rescuer, so much like another… They were just a child. They were so small. Undyne couldn’t understand how they had even contemplated befriending her after she had tried to murder their face off. Had they really forgiven her, just like that? Sometimes, she dreamed that they had been a hair too slow. It was different each time, and she never got further than reaching for their soul - but it felt so real, and dream-her felt so relieved and triumphant - she felt queasy after those dreams, especially if she saw the little punk soon after. They were friends with that lizard kid who’d followed her around, too. The one who reminded her of another little punk trailing after a hero - an actual hero, who’d fought in the war, not some snotty community service brat who tried to beat up the king. How would she have felt, if she’d made a friend of someone Gerson wanted to smash with his hammer? No wonder the squirt figured Papyrus was cooler now.

“U-undyne? Are you okay?”

Alphys - Oh stars, Alphys. She hadn’t even heard her come in. She had to keep it together. Alphys had a scintillating mind, a deliciously sharp wit, and a deep-rooted passion that reached out to grab you by the soul and show you every little wonder that had caught her attention - but she was under so much stress already. Could Undyne really allow herself to worry her more? She’d already seen her dearsoul falter so much, and teeter so dangerously… Warm claws came to rest on her shoulder, and she startled. Eyes coruscating with some indefinable inner furnace met her, and stilled her. Asking. Knowing. Understanding. Accepting. Eyes that burned with a conviction she couldn’t quite grasp.

“I’m here.”

There were no questions. Undyne didn’t want to let go, but it was such a relief to stop wrestling all the sins crawling on her back, and she felt herself scooped into her dearsoul’s embrace. How many times had she been the one to hold Alphys as she wept herself dry? Perhaps… Perhaps it was time she came clean, too. Nobody could really be strong all the time - the strain was too much - but she wasn’t alone.

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Life Is Wonderful

“Oh my…” Breathless, Asgore gazed in awe at the small wriggling form he could finally behold. The kid had arrived, and they were already capturing his heart. Fluffy little ears twitching at his words, their little head turned towards him, dark eyes peering inquisitively out in search of the source. “Look, Gorey, they know you!” Toriel exclaimed, her warm tones tired, but delighted, and Asgore could feel a goofy smile spreading its way across his features. “So I see!” He chuckled, leaning closer to press his nose to hers, before moving to give the baby a little nuzzle as well. A tiny paw collided with his snout, and his new nesser released a reedy gigglish bleat of amusement, echoed faintly by their mother. Before too long, Asgore was laughing as well, unable to resist the feeling of giddiness bubbling up within him. He wanted everyone to see this wonderful little life he and Toriel had made together, to shout from the battlements to the Underground at large and tell them that a new princen was born – oh, and they had Tori’s toebeans! So soft and pink and sweet – those squishy little pads looked so very dainty, and so full of life.

Toriel’s deep sunset eyes were full of warmth as she watched her husband grow steadily more excited – it was really quite endearing. “Would you like to hold them, dear?” She asked, feeling her own soul whirling with wonderment all the while. There was no question in either of their minds what the answer was going to be, but it had to be asked. In almost no time at all, she was gently settling their child into Asgore’s arms, while the pair of them marvelled at how small the little one was. At that moment, Asgore could not have been more grateful for the dolls Tori had suggested they practice with – he knew he would have been far more nervous about holding an infant without preparation. The child squirmed slightly, but seemed relatively unruffled by this turn of events, and Toriel wondered whether this was perhaps too good to be true – but then again, there was no rule that said babies must make a racket when they are new, and the child had made sound, so they were probably fine.

“I don’t know about you, but I think they look more like an Asriel than a Torgore. Am I right?” Asgore asked, regarding their little bundle of fuzz with a speculative eye. The former was a daintier name, and this youngling seemed to have inherited a touch more of Toriel’s fineness of feature than his own, less subtle qualities. Asriel, to the king, sounded as though it fit much more closely than Torgore, which to him bespoke a huskier infant. It was an old tradition to name children with a combination of their parents’ names, though it was one that not everyone followed. Considering Asgore’s well-known foibles in the naming department, and Toriel’s affection for the nostalgic practice, the pair had decided to make use of it. “Hmmm, I think you might be right… Asriel it is, then!” She replied, booping the child’s snootle lightly, causing them to blink owlishly. Was it normal to feel so borne aloft by all of this? Toriel almost felt as though she could float up to meet the ceiling.

“When do you think we will know?” A question that had been rolling around in both of their minds for a while now, but Toriel could not help but voice it. For many, though not all, types of monster, children were not born male, female, or really anything definite besides ‘baby’. Being made mostly of magic, a monster’s form was tied quite closely to their identity, and grew with their sense of self. While Toriel had been certain in her femininity quite early on, according to her parents, others – like Asgore, for instance – took a while longer to figure themselves out. Taking a moment to ponder the matter, Asgore made a soft, non-committal noise, uncertain. “I’m not really sure, to tell you the truth. I’m sure it will become apparent in due course, however – it’s just one of those things. Hmm, but you know, I’ll bet it will be quite a journey.” Their eyes met, both sets vibrant with hope for the future, and they beamed at almost the same moment, lost in each other and the promise their tomorrows held. “Yes… and one we will take with them, every step of the way.” In their minds’ eyes, they could see themselves watching as their little one grew. They could hear their exultation at their child’s first words, first wobbly steps – they could see the tiredness to come, and the fulfilment it could lead to – helping their child learn to draw, to write – being there for them when they were hurt or upset – seeing them one day grow up healthy and strong in their soul, just as they themselves were in their moment of dreaming. Though each was in their own little world, it would be difficult to perceive where one’s hope met the other’s, if both were taken together – really, they might as well have been thinking in synchrony with one another.

They were snapped out of their daze when Asriel scrunched up their face, hints of reddish pink beneath the fur, and bawled their hunger to the world. Asgore startled, but recovered himself quickly, passing Asriel’s squirming form over as carefully as he could. Toriel murmured soothingly to the baby, guiding them to where they could find sustenance, before meeting Asgore’s eyes. An unspoken message seemed to pass between them, and they smiled again. “Would you like me to fetch something for you, Tori?” After bringing someone new into life, Asgore felt sure he would want some kind of pick-me-up, if it was him, so he thought he probably ought to ask. The new baby’s needs were certainly important – but they were being met, and it was just as important to remember that Toriel had needs as well. “Some iced tea would be lovely, if you would not mind bringing me some.” Came the soft reply, met with a nod, and Asgore set off for the kitchens, with one last look back at his beloved and his child before he passed the doorway. Life really was wonderful, despite all the hardships of being forced underground, if it could bring them joy such as this.

[outcodesanctuary]

Or Forgotten

Footsteps clattering gently but swiftly on stone, approaching. Wasn’t this something that had happened before? It felt as though he had only just seen them off, but here they came again. Didn’t they have anything better to do? A familiar form drew near to him by the flowerbed of beginnings and endings, where he had met someone he had grown to love, and where they had been laid to rest. Where the one he had mistaken for that lost sibling had fallen like an echo. Could he do this again? He didn’t want to act so distant, not with Frisk, but he knew he didn’t have long. Better that they left and never saw what he would become again, in his opinion.

“Why did you come back? I’m sure I just talked to you.“ He managed, not sure whether he could take the guilt and all those other messy emotions if Frisk kept coming back to this one moment he knew he had no future beyond. Not as himself, anyway, which was even worse than falling to nothing but dust. “I learned something that gave me an idea.” Came the soft reply, hesitant but determined. “I know you don’t have long, but - but if there’s any chance - any hope - I gotta try. I know you want me to move on, but… it’d eat me alive inside if - if I just left you! Please, will - will you let me try something?” Their voice was trembling. Why did they have to care so much about someone like him? Maybe they were as strange as monsters could be that way. He didn’t want to watch them struggle and fail, or risk them having to see him lose himself, but… it was hard to deny them this, after they’d helped him to at least get to be himself again for a little while. After all they’d done to help those he’d spent so long toying with.

“Okay, I guess, but only if you promise you won’t bring us back to now to try over and over. I mean it, Frisk - that would hurt too much, for both of us.” It was a wonder that his own voice was as level as it was, with the floods of unaccustomed feeling rampaging in his mind. Frisk pondered solemnly for a moment, weighing up their options, before opening their mouth to speak again. “Sans told me he’d be… okay with me - with me giving it three shots if you were, but no more. Is - is that okay? I swear I’ll drop it if this doesn’t work - o-or if you want to stop - but… but even then, at - at least it wo-ould be a better way to… to say goodbye than just… leaving…” He was struck dumb, his fingers cold and trembling as his mind fizzed and bubbled. “You TOLD?!” He yelped, alarmed. Sans - of all people, Sans… At least it hadn’t been his parents, but…

“He… already knew.” Okay, that was terrifying, and it was only the memory that his time was short that saw him able to pull himself together. ‘Smiley’ had always seemed to know too much, so maybe he should have seen this one coming, but he’d thought he’d at least be able to keep that secret under wraps. Breathing as deeply and slowly as his mother had once taught him and Chara, he gathered himself. “Do you swear on your soul you won’t keep repeating, once you’ve tried three times?” He couldn’t stop them, he knew he couldn’t - but if they were determined to keep their word, maybe they could stop themself? They’d been trustworthy this long… They nodded, hand over heart, and he sighed, feeling the release of a tension that had felt like a compressed spring about to snap.

“Okay, what’s your idea?” He asked, curious in spite of himself. They smiled warmly, as though his agreement had filled them with hope, and asked him to dance with them. Having lived as a prince, he knew how to dance better than they did, but he was none the wiser as to what this was supposed to do. Still, it could be something fun that could help them feel better about this, so he took their hand and led them into a careful, simple waltz in the small space beneath the hole, around the flowers. It was awkward at first, and Frisk was kind of a beginner, but that didn’t stop either of them from enjoying the moment. Perhaps this wouldn’t be such a bad way to say goodbye - and it reminded him of better times, helping another novice learn the steps. It was lovely, in a bittersweet kind of way, but he ended up having to warn them to leave - he didn’t want them to see Flowey.

They returned to the moment, asking if he was okay with dancing some more, and he remembered. This was actually quite nice, and he felt like he was achieving something that would last beyond himself, teaching Frisk a little of what he knew. It took longer for his form to begin to destabilise this time, though he honestly couldn’t say why - and again Frisk left for the past before he could lose himself entirely. This time, it was Asriel who offered to dance, finding that he was enjoying himself more than he’d thought could be possible so soon to Flowey’s resurgence - he wanted to make the most of this while it lasted, as whole-heartedly as someone running on left over radiance from the souls of others could.

He gave in to the dance, to the laughter and buoyancy of the moment, reassured by Frisk’s promise and the warmth he could feel. It almost felt as though he was whole. As they spun, Frisk’s soul began to shine, illuminating them - and coaxing out a faint rainbow corona outlining where Asriel’s would have been. Both sets of eyes widened in awe, even as the light grew brighter still. Their bodies began to glow brightly white, and leap to embrace and merge with one another as though suddenly agile liquids. They could feel themselves becoming part of one another, their emotions meeting and mingling, understanding willingly passed from one to the other.

When the light dimmed, only one form remained, taller than either who had twirled there before. The satyr laughed, their voice filled with incredulous joy and relief - and amazement at their own existence. Holding up their arms to the light, they examined the soft coating of fuzz there, eager to examine themself. Their fur seemed to be shorter on their upper body than their legs, for some reason - oh, and they could feel little horn nubs! Asriel had been waiting for those! Butterscotch splashes met white, wherever they looked - it seemed as though their colours had not mingled evenly, and it was quite striking. Most of their hair was as dark as Frisk remembered, but even this was not exempt from the snowy flashes.

What had they become? The part of them that was Asriel couldn’t help but wonder, past the exhilarated jubilation, whether this was the root from which what he and Chara had tried to do had sprung. Who were they now? Were they one person? Two people? Three, even? They really couldn’t say for certain, but whatever they were, the part of them that was Frisk was sure that their whole needed a name of their own, and both of them could feel the agreement that rippled through their unity. The memories of names each had encountered, and what they thought they represented, were shared and poured over - until finally, they knew who they were. Their name was Balthiel - a name they hoped would help them on their way to forgiving themself, as they already forgave others. Stood there, so full of hope and elation and oneness, they were enveloped in a warming, reassuring closeness that felt like the idea of a hug. That, and the knowledge that as long as they stayed together like this, nobody was going to be left behind.

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The Art Of Being Free

One was crouched in on herself like a nervous vole, clawed hands fidgeting even as the sun warmed her scales. One was slouched with an ease his fixed smile only seemed to reflect, some unspoken tension keeping him from the relaxation he affected. Both were small beings, with seeping cold weights sapping at their souls from the pasts they were trying to move forward from. It wasn’t like in those superhero movies a certain loud fellow was fond of, where someone could put aside all the pain so quickly, as though it wasn’t laced through their entire being like the hyphae of some fungus. As though it was that easy to power through. Well, it wasn’t as though that didn’t help the movie makers keep the films short, but still. It didn’t really help.

What did help, however, was being there. Even if no words were spoken, the quiet presence of someone who knew and understood - it went a long way. It felt safe, and hardly required any interaction if one or both of them wasn’t up to it. Sometimes, there were words, with or without context. It was still difficult - so difficult - to allow such tightly-held secrets to unfurl, but sometimes they crept out, or leapt out, and it could feel like surrender and freedom at the same time. It was safe - they were more alike than they’d known, and they needed this so badly but it was so hard to even try to address it with anyone who didn’t already get it.

All of the guilt, all of the fear and the desperate inaction and dissolving hopes - slowly, they were eroding these parts of the heavy hollowness they carried within, which their families and friends could fill back up with warmth and care as they went along. It wasn’t a thing they’d ever acknowledged aloud, more like a quiet accord that had woven itself between them gradually as they began to see themselves in one another. Being who they were, they were not solemn and still each and every time they slipped over to check in on each other - they shared jokes and ‘nerdisms’, unhealthy snacks and stories of their loved ones - but it was so nice to be able to simply be, without anyone asking what was wrong, or trying to drag them into an activity that was too noisy and full of bustle for their headspace for the sake of perking them up.

One thing they liked to do together, when it felt right, was create. It felt so good to see and feel something coming together and not going horribly wrong, even if it came apart, because it was something that wasn’t hugely important and valuable. It didn’t have to be anything in particular - decorating mugs worked, or playing with Lego, or flicking paint onto paper. There was no pressure to do more than click a few blocks together, or make a smear, because this was for them and nobody else, and there were no deadlines or crushing consequences.

They didn’t work with clay, because of how melty it could look, but maybe they would someday. They didn’t watch anything with too much mad science or looping, but… maybe eventually. Not before they were ready to face it. They knew, though, that if they ever were ready, they would have support. They would not have to rush, or face anything as alone as they had felt before. They had someone who knew how to reach them if now seemed to give way to then, and talk them back to the present.

They didn’t always put very much effort into the things they made - this was a thing against stress - but sometimes one or both of them might get an idea that they couldn’t resist wanting to bring into reality. For her, it had been sketches of characters from the very first anime she’d ever seen, but as monsters. The look on her face as she rediscovered them through her pencil was warming in the same way sunrise and a hot meal were, and it lit in him the motivation to construct a wire-frame bucky ball the size of his head. There was no explanation, and he slid back into scrawling his name vaguely onto things afterwards - but he had glowed with the luminance of once-forgotten joy for a precious few moments when he’d held out the model buckminsterfullerene for her to see, and they’d spent at least an hour just rolling it around and making silly noises to amuse themselves.

It was moments like these that brought home to them how far they’d already come, and that things were a lot closer to okay than they had been before. For some, freedom came more slowly than stepping out into the sunlight, but it was growing in their souls with every fresh dawn and every moment of deja vu that never came.

[outcodesanctuary]

Facing Fears

“Muffet, darling, whatever’s the matter?” Came the distinctive tones of monsterdom’s first celebrity, from the speaker of a delicately pink and purple phone clasped in one slender hand. One might have assumed that Mettaton would not take many calls directed his way, due to his abundance of fans, but the fact was that his personal number was not known to the public - if someone was calling that number, chances were that they were known to him. As it happened, he and Muffet had known one another for a while, having met after someone recommended her to him as a potential baking instructor. After all, if he was going to cook on camera, it absolutely wouldn’t do to not know what he was doing. While comedy could potentially boost ratings a little, it would have stung his pride somewhat.

“I - I need your help, dearie,” The elegant baker admitted, her voice carrying far less confidence than usual.”It’s my brood, and their schoolmates - some of the little humans are scared out of their wits by my young ones… Helen tells me it’s something called arachnophobia, and I must confess that I’m worried someone will come to harm over this. My dearies are distressed, and the little humans are petrified of them - and I don’t know what to do! You’ve always been good at charming people, so I thought that you… might be able to help me?”  A thorny issue - one could much more easily move past a misunderstanding than a deep-rooted fear - and that led to fears of her own. Monsters like her children were more delicate than their human classmates - if someone reacted to their fear, if someone lashed out… She knew that she shouldn’t assume that anyone would, but she could see it in her mind’s eyes, and she was afraid. As a child, she had heard stories about the kind of things that humans might do to a spider - she’d thought she’d grown past being frightened by campfire tales, but it looked as though they were back again to haunt her.

“Oh my…” Mettaton responded, considering the problem. He - well, he wasn’t exactly a therapist, or an expert in dealing with phobias. Then again, he had been able to win over audiences on the surface with reasonable success, despite being a literally haunted robot. “Well, I don’t know what I can do besides my usual brand of shenanigans, darling - when all you have is a hammer and all that - but I’ll give it my all. How does an interview sound, for starters? Come to think of it, I’ve been meaning to try my hand at children’s programs - perhaps I could find some way to work spiders in? OH and think of the adorable merchandise! It’s hard to be scared of something you can hug, wouldn’t you say?” However true it was that Mettaton was the owner of one of the most inflated egos to ever emerge from the Underground, he wasn’t the sort to turn down an opportunity to weigh in on behalf of somebody else. True, there was a chance that he could soak up some more limelight this way, but he had also come to recognise that stars shining in isolation were lonely little pinpricks against the darkness. Constellations, however, shone brighter in their unity, and were made the lovelier for it.

Muffet sighed in relief as she arranged a time and a place to talk about their strategy in more detail, feeling much lighter now that she had the beginnings of a plan, and someone else to help her. It was all too easy to fall into anxiety’s trap of fretful hesitation, but there was no way someone as bombastic as Mettaton would let it consume her now that she’d got him started. She would definitely have to rein him in a bit, though, in case he went overboard. When he went overboard. For all that it often felt like they were kindred spirits, fabulous and self-assured, each had their foibles to watch out for - which could be problematic when working together if they didn’t take them into account. It was a good thing they’d had chance to cooperate before, or who knew what kind of a pickle they’d be getting themselves into? Last time, as she recalled, it had been Mettaton who’d called her, desperate for advice about reconnecting with his cousin - having such a large family, she was no stranger to soothing ruffled feathers and figuring out how to move forward. It was a strange dynamic they had, but it had worked for them so far - and she hoped it would long continue to do so.

[outcodesanctuary]

The Circle Turns

It was perhaps an alien idea, that an embodiment of demise could feel as deeply and as vividly as anyone more conventionally accepted to be alive – possibly one factor among many contributing to the unease of the population to the newer members of the pantheon – but they could, whether they wished it or not. The smaller of the reapers was the better at subduing and concealing his emotions, but even he could not sink entirely into numbness. Even he could not evade the thrill of discovery, the wonder, the tension and ire. Such as he could and did taste elation and excitement, passion and the fear of reprisal. However he came by it, Sans had love, as fierce and wild as any mortal’s - and as anxious and at times clumsy besides.

Being a harvester of souls, he was not used to being cared for - and deemed worthy of such care - by any save his brother. It amazed him, even after so long, that his revered opposite number could harbour such affection for him - and this after having once reviled the very concept he represented. It was really one of the more unlikely matches he could think of - she was a creature of breath, warmth and movement, while such things stilled and slipped away upon his slightest touch. She was an elegant masterpiece, form and temperament - the passion and love she held for her purpose and all that sprung from it shining in her eyes and echoed in her voice. He was… he was half of a mistake, botched from the beginning and without much real joy in his unrelenting, thankless task. He knew that she wasn’t perfect - it would be hard to hold lasting connections with any anomaly who somehow managed to be - but he didn’t feel as though he was anywhere near her on the scale.

For all that he had so often heard - and come to feel - that he could never be good enough, Toriel had a different story to tell. He held close the memories of her honeyed sunbeam tones murmuring to him that he was not at fault for how he had come to be - that if endings must come to the souls she had crafted, she was glad that they had him to guide and protect them on their way - that he did not have to try to be anything that he was not. That he was worthy of life - and worthy of Life. These words, so gently spoken, thrummed and resonated within his skull whenever he thought of them, and made him feel lighter inside. In time, he grew to feel less guilty about being drawn to her - though he could not entirely silence the voice inside that whispered reminders to him that his reason to be was to spirit away the spark that she so lovingly gave, he felt that he had begun to make peace with it. If she could accept what he was, then why couldn’t he? He owed no allegiance to the fear and loathing others aimed at him.

As few would willingly socialise with Death, it was perhaps unsurprising that Sans did not quite grasp how much hovering was reassuring and supportive, and how much was really too much. Even had he perceived the difference, however, he may well have persisted, so fretful and full of warring emotions did he find himself. It wasn’t often that so many feelings at once assaulted his mind - fear and worry melting into incredulous joy and disbelief, stirred in with a nervous tension and expectation that seemed to vibrate within his very being. It was confusing and hard to think past. Dare he draw near? Was there some task he needed to fulfil? Did she need his support? Even as he thought these things, however, their counterparts buzzed around in his brain pan like flies. Would getting too close be a mistake? He knew he could touch her, but what she was doing? His very touch could jeopardise everything. Perhaps even his proximity could be harmful at so delicate a stage. Thus, he hovered, vacillating back and forth as he waited, neither wanting to risk approaching too near nor to drift so far as to not be there for Toriel.

A sound. A voice, raised in uncomprehending protestation. Shrill, warbling, brash and new. Sans could not have said how long he remained frozen in place, the gears of his mind ground to stopping by the wail. At every stage, throughout the process, he had feared - and doubted close to his inner self that Death could have any part in creating. Toriel had smiled, had told him she was sure that he was quite alive enough to be a part of such a thing - and that it would be no shame on him if he were barren. That there were always other ways to nurture, to create, or to find peace and happiness in oneself and one’s love. Even so, he had not quite believed any of those things, deep inside, until he heard and understood that he - he - was truly a father. He’d thought he had a firm grasp on the situation, but now it all seemed so much more real, and he didn’t know whether he was as prepared as he had thought. What if the baby carried some form of defect of his origin? Could he stand the guilt and pain that would surely find their home in his core if he had to carry them away when they had hardly begun? What if their magic sang mortal to his senses, and he could not touch them even once until their time came? What if Asgore heard of this, and found reason to be wrathful? He could stand being hated a little more by one of his creators - he already knew how they saw him - but what of the little one?

Toriel was calling him. Wrestling with his fears and doubts, Sans followed her voice and made his way deeper into her sanctum. There, nestled in her arms, was a radiant little impossibility. As he drew closer, he could make out more detail - they were glowing translucently white, like the manifestations of magic into shapes that he and his brother sometimes produced. This young, unaligned magic enveloped their bones like flesh, and it was like seeing a living creature and the bones it became superimposed on one another, but somehow fluidly and full of self. Wonderment shot through him, mingled with incomprehension - what was he seeing? As he watched, the baby began to suck on one long, floppy glowing ear, and Toriel beamed at him. He met her eyes wordlessly, awe plain in his usually mask-like features, and she whispered reassurance to him that he almost couldn’t take in as his senses told him what she must surely have already noticed.

The baby’s magic sang and resonated with both of their tones, interwoven and sparkling - metamorphosis - renewal - life from death - Rebirth. He had no words, nor way to express them if he had. “I thought we might name them Sariel, that they may carry a combination of our names as well as of our magic.” She suggested softly, unable to keep the smile from her face or her voice. “I have long been fond of that tradition, and I have to say it would be apt.” He could only nod mutely, reaching out carefully - oh so carefully - ready to pull back at the slightest hint from the youngling’s magic… he could touch them. They were alive, and they were looking at him and burbling, and they knew him - and he could touch them and they were alive. Heedless of the tears running unevenly down his cheekbones, he allowed Toriel to direct his arms and place the infant there for him to hold. He was so happy that it hurt, and he would not have changed a thing.

[outcodesanctuary]

The nothing place? That's the Anti-void, Cody, and you're still in that. You're just inside a thing Ink made in the Anti-void that isn't emptiness. He made a home to live in, and you found it.

It took a few moments for the voice’s words to fully register in Cody’s mind, but when the implications hit home, they were awestruck. Ink could make something out in the nothing?! That was big. That was very very big. It meant that Ink wasn’t just real, he could make more realness. That was a staggering feat, considering that Cody’s own efforts had always dwindled and vanished. They were too excited to speak, barely restraining themself from vibrating in place like a Temmie as they produced enthusiastic electronic-sounding burbles and chirps.

“Aww gee…” Since when were Errors so precious? It was certainly a nice change, however incomprehensible, Ink reflected. The awe he could see shining in Cody’s literally starry eyes was making him feel self-conscious, but nothing had been said that he could really deny. He was so used to his powers that reactions like this could catch him a little off guard, unless he’d been telling people lately for some reason. That wasn’t something he tended to do, though, since he’d probably end up having to face a bunch of requests - and not all of them necessarily things he could accomplish.

[outcodesanctuary]

Aww, the Error's cuuuute! Ink, don't you think they're cute?

A wry smile crossed Ink’s features as he contemplated this question, even as he registered the pronoun the voice used - that was interesting. The voices tended to have access to more information than he did about things like this, so he decided to roll with it. “I have to admit, you’ve got a point there.” He chuckled, beginning to feel more at ease. “Nice to meet you, Cody.” And wasn’t that an interesting name for an Error? Had they come up with it themself? Did they know it was a pun? He wasn’t sure the other outcode skeleton was entirely in the loop about their situation. “Do you know where you are?”

Cody’s expression turned bashful when they heard the latest voice calling them cute, and they wriggled in place a little as a dusting of blue faintly illuminated their skull. Was flattery something they were going to have to get used to? It was kind of nice. Oh, and Ink was agreeing, and his eyes were doing the shape thing again! Cody didn’t feel threatened anymore - in fact, they were feeling quite light hearted. This was much better than sitting alone making sounds to make the emptiness seem less empty, and they wanted it to stay that way. “Tha-ank you…” They mumbled, shuffling. “Nice to - to - to meet you too.” Was this going well? They hoped so - it was amazing to be able to see and hear someone else who was real, and they didn’t know what they’d do if he decided he didn’t like talking to them. Wait, Ink wanted to know about a where - what was a where again? Oh, that was it - a where was a place, where one could be! But… where were they? “Nnnnot the nothing pla-ace?” They tried, not really having any better ideas.

[outcodesanctuary]

You okay there, Ink?

“Yeah, I guess…” Ink mumbled, keeping his tone soft in an attempt to avoid spooking his unexpectedly sensitive intruder further. “I mean, I’m not hurt - but I’m pretty confused.” That, if anything, was an understatement. If he was being a little more open, Ink might have admitted that he felt completely out of his depth. At least his voice didn’t seem to be setting the Error off - they were simply… staring at each other. Maybe he should try talking to his uninvited guest? After all, he’d already made them cry, and they hadn’t lashed out, so maybe it would be safe? Only one way to find out, and he knew he’d feel guilty if he didn’t, even if he came up with another way out of this mess.

“Hey there, didn’t mean to scare you… Are you okay? My name’s Ink…” He murmured, trying to sound soothing. He was still feeling rather on edge, and he’d reach for his brush at the first sign of trouble, but he had to try. As he watched, the Error’s eyes opened a little more, irides widening - they seemed transfixed, somehow. What was going on now? At least they weren’t sniffling any more - that had been making him feel bad, despite knowing that things could really have been bad enough to warrant his pell-mell rush.

The other skeleton could hear the voices too! Oh, and he had a voice of his own, and it was so good to be able to see a face with a voice - Cody felt as though they had missed that, but… they couldn’t remember having encountered such a phenomenon before. How odd. It didn’t matter, though, because the strange skeleton with the shifting-fading colours on his skull was speaking. Oh, and he was looking right at Cody, and his eyes were bright and changing and the shapes! They couldn’t look away. Their earlier distress nearly forgotten, they marvelled at the sheer variety of visual - and now auditory - stimuli this one other being provided.

Wait wait wait - the skeleton was speaking to them now, and not the voices - what were they to do? Questions? Oh, and this person had a name as well - that had to mean he was real, right? Ink. Ink ink ink ink ink… It was shorter than their name, but it had a satisfyingly solid sound to it. Oh, right, they were supposed to respond to questions. It wouldn’t do to ignore Ink - he might stop talking to them, or even go away! It had been a while since they tried speaking, but they’d give it a go. “I a-am okay, my - my name is Cody.” There, they’d done it! That had come out okay, they thought, and it had felt good to speak their own name - like a rebellion against the eating blankness they’d escaped.

[outcodesanctuary]

Is it just me, or is it really unlikely this Error wound up in the anti void the same way as CQ's?

((Well, it’s a big multiverse, so you miiight possibly be onto something there. Then again, you might not - who knows? Not Cody, at any rate.))

[outcodesanctuary]

If Cody hasn't got the blue tearstreaks Error has, does that mean they don't have strings?

((Well, you have to bear in mind that the baseline Error Sans did not start off with those tear streaks, and that Cody has yet to unlock any special abilities beyond tearing through the fabric of reality. At this time, Cody has no strings. Whatever abilities they may develop remain to be seen.))

[outcodesanctuary]

Is this going to turn into InkXError? If not, do you have any ships involving either of these peeps?

((Well, my doodledork is open to being courted by other Errors, I suppose, and I have nothing against other Inks romancing Cody, but my muses aren’t about to enter into a flushed relationship with one another. I mean for them to be close, but more along the lines of moirail and/or family close than boyfriend and enbyfriend.

Any ships involving them? Well, nothing IC has really presented itself yet - I mean, there’s potential for a different sort of Errorberry, I guess, if any Swap Sanses get involved. I really couldn’t say, though - at the moment, there’s almost nobody to assess muse chemistry with. As for Ink, well, idk even more.

I did contemplate something I like to call Fizzy Drink, wherein a Fresh Sans (more likely Freshtale than Underfresh, given emotions and the like) could be in some way involved with an Ink and a Dream, but that was just a random idea that occurred to me when contemplating ship names - it’s not something I have specific plans to include here. I mean, it isn’t impossible, but I’m not actively seeking it out.))

[outcodesanctuary]

Can either of your muses sing? What about swimming? What are their favorite foods? Do they like reading? (I know this is random, but I like random background info)

((No worries, random questions like this are fine - I mean, they make enough sense for me to answer them, and I get what you mean about background stuff.

Singing: Ink can, but he usually doesn’t - he’s much more likely to simply hum, as he’s a little self conscious about singing. After all, in the Antivoid, it can be pretty disheartening to get into your music, only for the ringing silence to hit you when you’re done. Cody, on the other hand, has a lot of trouble singing because their voice is glitched. This doesn’t stop them from belting things out with gusto - if anything, they try harder when they realise their voice is glitching.

Swimming: They’re skeletons, so swimming is really rather difficult without an ecto body manifested or something, and neither of them has actually had swimming lessons, so that’s a no for the time being.

Favourite foods: Ink is rather fond of almost any food he can get his hands on - since food isn’t something found often in the Antivoid, and there’s a lot of potential for creativity with different culinary treats, he’s got quite a bit of cupboard love. Cody likes food with bright colours, and things that fizz - sherbet is one of the things they’re likely to enjoy. Basically, the more real and sense-stimulating a food seems, the more they’ll like it.

Reading: Yes, for both, they love reading - especially fiction and science. Ink prefers high fantasy, but would be happy reading most genres, while Cody adores sci-fi and superhero fiction. They also both like reading things that explain how things in real world settings work - like a book about rainforest ecosystems.))

[outcodesanctuary]

Since we're talking about how they look, do your skells have tails? You know, little tailbone thingies that can wiggle. I've seen an Ink about who does - you know, rainbow-paint-brush - and I was wondering if yours has one as well.

((I know what you mean, and who you mean - my very first post on this blog involves that Ink, after all. It isn’t as though any events have unfolded that would expose such things to scrutiny over here, but that is a headcanon I like, so I don’t see why not. Neither of my beans would really know whether it was unusual or not, though, so don’t expect to be able to tease them about it as easily as some others with these lil tails can be teased. Tails aren’t something they think about all that much unless it comes up - they’re just a part of them.))

[outcodesanctuary]

If it's not rude to ask, what does the rest of your Error Sans look like? We only get to see the head in the little pictures.

((A Cody question? Oh, it’s not rude at all! I haven’t actually arted more than their head, to be honest, but I do have ideas in mind for the rest of him. For example, I decided to replace all the red of the original Error with green, apart from on their hands - the parts of their hands that would be red on Error are blue for Cody. Maybe their ribcage is as well, I’m not too sure about that.

As for their clothing, well, they’ve definitely got a green shirt, but they’re not wearing a hoodie. They’ve got something that looks like it could maybe have been a lab coat once - it’s a dark, kind of silvery grey. Not sure how I’d manage to make it silvery if I arted it, but oh well. It definitely has pockets, but it’s seen better days - particularly at the sleeves. Oh, and Cody isn’t wearing slippers - they’ve got plain grey shoes, which don’t have laces. I don’t actually have any ideas for their trousers right now, except that they don’t look like Error’s shorts. Is that enough information?))

[outcodesanctuary]

I've been reading their rules, and I can't find the part that tripped you up - am I missing something obvious? I don't want to make a similar mistake, can you help me?

((Okay, normally I would tell you that since that’s not my blog, you shouldn’t be asking me about it, but I can understand not wanting to wind up with your foot in your mouth. The part you’re looking for is in the fifth paragraph - it’s not hidden or anything, I just missed it. I can’t find anything else I missed, but you might want to check again yourself if you aren’t sure - I’m not sure I trust myself to advise you beyond avoiding my own faux pas right now. As I said before, I don’t think they would want people to bring it up, so this is the last ask on the subject I will be answering. I don’t want to make them any more uncomfortable than I already did, and I’d hope you won’t bother them about it either.))