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haveyouseenthisskeleton · 3 years

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What do all the skeleton boys think of their respective Frisks and Charas?

Undertale Sans - After what happened Underground, he took a HUGE step back and doesn't want anything to do with Frisk. It's a mutual choice to ignore each other. He needed it so he could heal without having the source of his trauma right under the eye sockets. With Chara, it's more complicated. He knows he should just ignore them too, but he can't refrain himself from antagonizing them. Everyone decided it was best to never let these two alone in a room.

Undertale Papyrus - He's sitting between two chairs. Since his brother doesn't want to see Frisk, he doesn't seen them often either. But Papyrus is still very friendly and insist to have at least one day per month to hang out with them. He's a bit more reserved around Chara, but mainly because they're acting like Papyrus is a total idiot and always tried to manipulate him to do stupid things. Papyrus is too nice to say something back, but he definitely doesn't like when they're around.

Underswap Sans - He's in good terms with the both of them. He knows what they did, because Honey explained him, but the four of them had a long talk soon after they left the Underground and now it's fine. Blue is hanging out with them when he can and they all love to prank Honey.

Underswap Papyrus - He can't say they're close friends contrary to Blue. He's pretty neutral, friendly and chill, but he will never forget. And yes, sometimes, his words might be a pit spicy if he's being teased too much.

Underfell Sans - He's fine with the kid, but as long they are not too clingy. Frisk and Chara never did a genocide in Underfell, they just tried to make everyone nicer. Red is still a bit wary, still persuaded it's just a way to make him low his guard, but he's actually just hiding the fact he is a big marshmallow inside and can't resist them. They well know that. Everytime Tori says no to something, they're going straight to him to ask again, and Red can't say no. And then he gets in trouble with Toriel. Every time.

Underfell Papyrus - They're calling him "Dad" to piss him off every time he's scolding them. He hates that. SO MUCH. Even if he tries to save the facade, the kids knows he's not as harsh as he first seemed and now they're toying with him. Every time they want something, they threat him to show Undyne a stupid photo of him hugging them with an idiot smile on the face. It's working every time. He's so weak. However, he's also in very good terms with Toriel and doesn't hide anything (except the hug), so the kid are better watch out.

Horrortale Sans - Doesn't want to see them. Never. Once he got freed from the Underground and Frisk joined them in the city, he almost killed them on sight. With time, he tolerates to see the kid outside, but don't they dare to talk to him. Oak won't react well at all. He doesn't know Chara.

Horrortale Papyrus - Same than his brother, but more moderate. Frisk tried to talk to him, but Willow just yelled at him all the horrible things they lived and how they ruined their life. He threatened them that if he ever saw them near his house, he's not holding Oak back. He got hurt to much, just like his brother, and can never forgive Frisk for what happened.

Horrorfell Sans - He has a truce with the kid. They stay away from him and his bro and Copper won't do anything to them. He's bitter and hurt that Frisk gained his trust only to break everything by giving up on monsterkind. Copper is not trusting a human ever again.

Horrorfell Papyrus - Chief has bad PTSD. After the child left, Undyne and the entire Royal Guard beat him up to force him to tell where was the human. He never answered, but since this day, he assimiled the human to this scene. Now everytime he sees Frisk, he has a panic attack. Copper made sure it won't happen again.

Swapfell Sans - He could kill Chara on sight if he ever has a chance. They reseted and toyed with Rus so many time with Frisk that they left him broken, traumatised and badly mentally and physically damaged. He never want them again near his brother. It took three years for Rus to talk about the resets, and Nox got really shaken by what he learned. He's in full protective mode now.

Swapfell Papyrus - Same than his brother. If he sees Chara/Frisk, he kills them without a warning. The kid was clever enough to leave the city once monsterkind got out, but Rus is secretly still looking for them. He won't let them get away from consequences that easily. Frisk and Chara know it. There's nothing worse to a hunter to become the prey so suddenly.

I'll do the other with pairs xD I'm tired.

Outertale Sans and Papyrus - They're all good friends. The kids never did a genocide and only did one run, so it's pretty much a perfect pacifist timeline, nothing bad happened and the brothers are considering the kids like family.

Dancetale Sans and Papyrus - They're pretty friendly, but it's because they never went Underground. Frisk is adult and is working with them for the shows. They're not super close, but they're good pals. They don't know Chara.

Dancefell Sans and Papyrus - They are the reason Frisk became a star dancer. Now Frisk is living their life and traveling around the planet. They recieved a postal card once in a while.

Farmtale Sans and Papyrus - Frisk and Chara are they neighbours. They're friendly towards each other, but gets a little competitive since they own rival farms. Chara sometimes try to cheat by poisonning their crops when they are competitions.

Mafiatale Sans and Papyrus - Frisk is mostly their kid. They saved them a long time ago and now they are family. Now Frisk is adult and chose to leave a normal life, away from the mafia, and their adoptive parents are proud. They wouldn't like them to work in this hell hole anyway.

Mafiafell Sans and Papyrus - Same than the Mafiatale brothers, except Frisk is still working with them. They are the only person that manages to make Torpedo laugh. Everyone thinks it's creepy, Fang included. The kid is part of the family too.

Ink - He's fine with most Frisk and Chara, and plays with them. Like he's telling them he is their conscience just to scare the shit out of them and then he leaves and lets them behind. Fun times.

Error - ... "DIE STUPID GLITCH". Mostly. He's treating them like he's treating everyone else.

Disbelief Papyrus - Oh, you know, they just killed his brother and all his friends. Delta is very bitter other Frisk and Chara. He turned the page now however and all he feels is pity for them. Frisk and Chara are so pissed off he is not mad at them. It's like they did everything for nothing. But isn't ignorance the worst punishment? Delta is acting like they are not existing.

Dustale Sans - Well Frisk better never cross his road again. They have a truce about the resets, but that's all. If Dune ever sees them again, he will kill them on spot.

#undertale #underswap #underfell #horrortale #horrorfell #swapfell #outertale #dancetale #dancefell #mafiatale #mafiafell #ink sans #error sans #disbelief papyrus #dustale #undertale ask blog #undertale asks #undertale imagines #undertale headcanons

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colehasapen · 3 years

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(ONE SHOT) I see ghosts in their smiles DC

A03

Bruce never fully understood the relationship between Flash and Green Lantern. At a glance, they were so different that logically one would think that they'd fight more than they had, but that had never been the case; Barry and Hal had bickered, had argued, but rarely ever fought. Barry had been mild mannered and polite, while Hal was brash and confident, but these differences hadn’t driven them apart, in fact, it had brought them together. The two of them had been a pair on and off of missions, though many hadn't known the true extent.

Not until it was too late.

The Founders though, they’d all been well aware. They’d had a front row seat to the evolution of the relationship between the two of their more colourful members. They’d seen the two of them go from acquaintances to teammates, to friends, and then to lovers. They’d all teased them in their own ways, found them wrapped around each other in some way or another; they’d interrupted dates for missions, had stumbled across them in embarrassingly compromising situations, had even offered them their blessings, because despite everything, Barry and Hal were good for each other. Somehow, despite being the two most scattered members of the League, they managed to ground each other.

Barry and Hal had been a good pair, but Barry’s death had been the start of Hal’s downward spiral. Barry’s death had been a wake up call for them all, in the same way Jason’s death had been for Bruce; they’d all known, of course, that they were flirting with death everyday, but it hadn’t truly sunk in for a lot of them until Barry had sacrificed himself to save the world.

Now, they were both gone. Both dead; and despite all the differences Bruce had had with them - Jordan more so than Barry - he misses them.

He misses the old Flash and Green Lantern, more than he ever thought he would. It makes the fact that there’s two new heroes in their place all the more painful.

Wally West and Kyle Rayner.

Bruce has known Wally since the boy was a lanky teen in yellow following his uncle like a cheerful, friendly shadow. He’s known the young man since he was a child, and it’s strange, seeing him in Barry’s place. It’s thrown all of them off balance, having one of the children they helped train standing among them. Wally’s the Flash now, a young man, but Bruce still looks at him and sees the child that used to come over every weekend to play with Dick.

Kyle Rayner doesn’t have that same history. For all intents and purposes, he had been a normal kid until the ring had chosen him and he’d become the last Green Lantern in the galaxy. He’s a nice enough kid, of an age with Bruce’s own boys, with a relatively clean record that paints an image of a friendly, easy-going artist with his head in the clouds. He’s good at what he does, despite learning it all on his own, and mostly competent despite how new he was at hero-ing. But Hal’s actions had proved that they had to be wary of Lanterns, proved that Bruce had gotten too complacent around his teammates, and he wouldn’t make that mistake again. Bruce keeps the new Lantern at an arm’s distance, close enough to stop if he loses it too.

Watching them together is like looking at ghosts.

"It's like watching them all over again." Clark’s voice is nostalgic and sad, and Bruce very pointedly forces his eyes away from the two young men huddled together near the back of the cafeteria. Superman’s eyes are distant, but there's a light of understanding inside of them when he meets the other hero’s gaze.

Clark knows him too well.

Despite not answering verbally, Bruce inclines his head and grunts.

Wally and Kyle had been a couple no one had suspected, not with the way the two of them bickered. They’re both young, rash, impetuous, and it tends to lend to an image of two young cats hissing and spitting over territory; somehow, without any of them really noticing, the two youngest main roster members of the League had drifted together and meshed despite everything. The arguing had gone from genuine antagonism to something fun and easy that others often found amusing in darker situations.

Now, it wasn’t surprising to see them tucked together with some game or another, or surrounded by snacks in the common room. There had been plenty of talk between the older members of the League, those who had known about their predecessors’ relationship, about another iconic Flash-Green Lantern duo, to the point where Bruce almost decides to not put the two young men on missions together any more, just to avoid having to look at ghosts every day.

But they were good at what they do, and they work well together, despite their bickering, almost like they know instinctively what the other needs in the thick of things without needing to communicate. They tend to poke each other into going beyond their limits with well-placed quips and jokes, and they get the job done quickly and efficiently.

It really was like looking at Barry and Hal again, and maybe that wasn’t a good thing, considering Barry’s death had just been the start of Jordan’s spiral.

Clark offers him a sympathetic smile, “The kids are growing up fast.” The Kryptonian hums slightly, slanting him a slight look. “I always thought it would be Dick and Wally in the end.”

He’d thought the same too, but Dick wouldn’t appreciate his thoughts on it.

Bruce winces slightly, “Nightwing’s happy with Starfire and Oracle.” He says. He’d always thought the same, with the way his ward and Barry’s nephew had been as teens; he knew they’d tried it, had experimented together quite frequently, just like he knew they ended it on good terms as friends, because it was what worked best for them, in the end.

They’d been good together, but they’d decided they were better as friends and teammates, and Bruce would respect that choice. It was the least he could do, after everything he’d put Dick through.

Clark nods his head, right as a burst of laughter drags both of their attention back to where Kyle and Wally are sitting. At some point, Kyle had flipped his sketchbook construct to show whatever he had been drawing to the redhead, who had dissolved into cackles at whatever was on the page, snickering into his food. As they watch, the young Green Lantern grins boyishly, leaning forward to give the speedster a quick peck on the cheek before shoving a hand full of fries into Wally’s mouth and laughing himself.

Around them, the noise had drawn the attention of other heroes in the cafeteria, and Bruce doesn’t need to look to see that they’re all softening at the sight of the two young men.

“They’re their own people.” Bruce says finally, “Their own heroes.”

Clark nods, expression soft, “It’s different.” He admits, “But sometimes I still end up calling them by another name.” He shrugs, looking repentant, when Bruce frowns at him. “I called Wally, Barry the other day during monitor duty, because he said something that reminded me too much of him. I mean, it’s not surprising that he would act like Barry - but it throws me off sometimes.” Clark looks sheepish, apologetic, “It’s strange, having Wally working with us. He’s a good kid, but-”

“-But he’s not Barry.” Bruce agrees with a sigh. “We always knew he would take over as the Flash after Barry.” Barry hadn’t exactly been quiet about it; he’d been so proud of his nephew, and would tell anyone who listened that Wally would become the Flash someday, that he’d be even better than Barry.

“I’d always hoped it would be because Barry retired.” Clark says sadly, “Have a few kids; they did such a good job with Wally. Maybe he and Iris would have managed to talk Hal into coming with them - Hal never could deny them anything, even if he tried to act tough.”

But they were all dead - Iris first, then Barry, and then Jordan.

“Kyle’s a good kid, too.” Superman continues, “Ernest, creative, even if he’s a little rough around the edges. The Lanterns would have loved him - probably would have taken him under their wings.”

Bruce grunts, and Clark slants him a knowing look. As much as he likes Rayner as a person, or how much he reminds him of Dick, he can’t trust him, not after Jordan proved to them how dangerous an uncontrolled Lantern could be.

“He’s not Hal, Bruce.” Clark points out, “And Hal did the right thing, in the end - thanks to him.”

“Jordan proved that I was getting too complacent.” Bruce says blankly, “Every hero here is just one bad day away from becoming the very thing we fight.”

Clark sighs, leaning forward to press a kiss against Bruce’s cheek, there and gone. “My break’s over.” The Kryptonian says apologetically, smiling. “You should go home and get some sleep, Bruce. A full eight hours, at least.”

Another laugh rings out, and Bruce turns his head just enough to see that Wally had scooted his chair closer to Kyle’s, their knees bumping, and he’s moving to playfully pull the dark haired Lantern closer to press their lips together with a cheeky grin. The ketchup smeared across the artist’s cheek was proof enough of what they had been doing before.

It’s damningly charming, and sweet, but all Bruce can think when he sees them is that there’s a chance they could end up in the same situation as Barry and Hal. There’s too many ghosts in his head, too many skeletons in his closet, and two of them wear crimson and green.

#cole writes #dc comics #dcu #justice league #bruce wayne #clark kent #wally west #kyle rayner #superbat #halbarry #flashlantern #wally west/kyle rayner #kyle rayner/wally west #bruce wayne/clark kent #green lantern #the flash #batman #superman

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kin-the-muffin · 4 years

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Growing into a Mask: Ch 2

(FINALLY)

I walked into the classroom from where I had been waiting awkwardly in the hall for Toriel to begin heralding my arrival at Ebott.

It was a pretty normal high school class. There was a large group of boys and girls texting busily on their phones, a slightly smaller body of muscular teens pretending to be interested, and the remainder was split between other, smaller cliques. The part that made it ‘pretty’ normal instead of ‘normal’ normal, was that a third of the students were monsters.

After standing at the front of the room for a few seconds, I noticed almost everyone did a double-take. The entire class was absolutely gaping at me. I began to sweat and silently prayed Toriel wouldn’t suggest they ask me questions.

I cleared my throat and squeaked out “Um, hi, you can call me Corey.” and smiled weakly. I groaned inwardly and wished I had decided on a different name instead of sticking with my given name.

A girl in the second row looked like she was about to slam her head on her desk and a quartet of rough-looking teens in the back quietly chuckled and glanced at each other.

“Alright, Corey, you’ll be sitting there for the year,” Toriel pointed to the seat to the left of the girl I had noticed.

I nodded and walked past the first row to sit at my new seat. I tried not to pay heed to the fact that everyone’s eyes were still on me.

The girl turned to me and said “Hey, Corey, I’m Li Feign Chi, but you can call me Feign,” with a pleasant smile, “and this is Fuku,” she gestured to the fire monster in front of her who waved at me.

[Li Feign Chi is a girl with a clear love for bright colors but an obvious lack of knowledge when it came to fashion. She almost made up for this with her spirit and great figure. Her hair was split into three sections. The sides and the top, which was pulled back into a loose bun. The top was dyed the primary colors in three stripes. Both sides were dyed, from front to back: purple, green, and orange. She wore a baggy blue t-shirt with a pink heart on the left side, a short, light green skirt with green stripes, and torn tights that were a sparkly silver. The only colorless parts on her person were her pale skin, her slanted light pink eyes, and her brown combat boots. Surprisingly, the most eye-catching items were her bright magenta fingerless gloves and silver-and-gold bangle bracelets.]

“Um, hello,” I wondered for a moment if she was an immigrant due to her slight accent. I guessed somewhere in Asia because of her pale skin and the shape of her eyes.

I guess Toriel noticed the short interaction and said to Feign, “Feign, would you be Corey’s first friend? Maybe show her around Ebott High and teach her how things work?”

I thought I caught Feign looking almost exasperated for a second. Oh, please don’t tell me she’s one of those girls. It might’ve been my imagination because she smiled brightly and replied, “I’d be glad to, Ms. Toriel!”

Suddenly, the bell rang and the class snapped out of the trance I had accidentally put them in and began putting their things together. They chatted with friends while inconspicuously sneaking extra glances at me. A few teens who had been getting ready to leave ahead of time waved to friends and bolted out of the door.

Before I left, Feign stopped me and asked if I could stay a little longer. After I replied in the affirmative, she walked up to Toriel and started talking to her.

I stood awkwardly by my desk, wondering if I should have said no. I was playing with my phone in the front pocket of my hoodie and had just pulled it out to play some Minecraft when Feign walked back over to me. By now, the class was empty, even Toriel had left.

“So, Corey, here at Ebott High School, we have a group of students--a club, if you will--called the ‘Ebott Buddies’. They show around new students and be a friend to them. I’m one of the only students in it, though technically the student council is supposed to take care of it but anyways!” Feign mumbled the last part with some contention, “I, Feign, am now your official ‘Ebott Buddy’!”

I just stared for a second. “...Do you have to do that or is it your choice?”

“This’ll sound like I’m lying, but I promise, it’s ‘protocol’.”

“That’s pretty, um, different. So why did you ask me to stay?”

“Oh, right! Would you like me to get all the boring stuff of showing you around over now?”

“Um, you really don’t have to do that. Won’t your family be worried?” I stumbled slightly over my words at the kind offer.

“As long as I call, my sister will be okay with it.”

“W-what about your parents?”

Feign sighed, “I guess I should just tell you now to save future time. I...am an immigrant!” she accompanied her revelation with jazz hands, “My parents are still in Japan and I live with my older sister here.”

“Oh, I was wondering about the accent…”

“Yeah, I just can’t get it to go away. I still rock at English though!” Feign winked comically.

I smiled at that, Maybe I was thinking of her the wrong way… “Well, as long as we both call home, then sure, thanks!”

“Speaking of, where do you call home? I live down by the pool on 17th.”

I panicked for a second, nervous one of the answers running through my head would leap out without my consent before I realized that she meant my current home.

“Um, do you know the skeleton brothers? Sans and Papyrus Font?”

“Yeah, everyone knows them. I don’t know them very well of course, but Sans sometimes helps me with science and stuff. Are you related to them?”

“Well-” I held up a finger but stopped, “I...I don’t know how to answer that…”

“Alright then. What about your parents? Wait, are they dead?” a horrified look crossed her face and I couldn’t tell if she was acting, “I hope they’re not dead… I would feel like such a muffin-head if they were!” Feign covered her face with her hands.

“No! No! They’re not dead! They are very much alive, I promise!” I hurried after her dark query.

“Oh, thank goodness!” she wrapped her arms around me in a tight hug, “I’m glad I’m not a muffin-head, heh, heh,” then she released me from her grasp. “Sorry about that.”

“I-it’s okay, Feign. I- um- there was a… a situation between them and so they sent me here. To live with the Font brothers. For a little while.”

“Oh, okay then. How long are you gonna stay?”

“I don’t know… a few years or so?”

“Oh, cool! We’ll have lots of time to hang out!”

We continued talking until Feign pointed out that she should actually show me the school. So we both called home and quickly explained why we weren’t back then Feign began the tour.

We didn’t mean for it to take so long, we really didn’t, but we talked and got distracted plenty. Eventually, my unease towards Feign faded away as I learned more about her.

Turns out, she had never seen a firework until she had come to live here a few years ago. I found this surprising for an Asian. And since then, she had basically become a demolitions expert at age 17.

“Every morning, my sister, Megan, has to make sure I don’t bring a vial of gunpowder of firecrackers to school,” she had laughed, “but she doesn’t know about a secret pocket I put in the other day, so let’s just say her efforts are futile.” she winked.

Once she had finished the tour, she told a teacher who was staying late that we were going. We then headed for the exit.

While walking, Feign sparked a new topic I was wary of.

“Hey, um, I know this is sometimes considered a bit rude to ask but…” for the first time since I had met her, Feign looked unsure of herself.

“I’ll try not to be offended. Ask away.”

“...Can I see your magic?” she quickly covered her mouth as if she had just spilled a huge secret.

“Oh! Um, my magic is kinda unreliable, but I guess I can show you some,” I put my fingers together. “Uh, this will look kinda freaky sooooooo, yeah. Just a warning.” I brought my hands about a foot away from each other and Feign gasped as blue strings had appeared and attached to my fingers. I grinned at her reaction as I twisted my fingers and adjusted where the strings were stuck. After fiddling with them for a few moments, I held up my hands to reveal an intricate pattern in the web.

I looked up at Feign to see how she responded. Her face was mostly filled with wonder though there was definitely another emotion I couldn’t put my finger on.

“Whoa. That’s so cool but, yeah, kinda freaky,” she scratched her face, “What do they do and what are they called?”

“I can sorta control them, to an extent,” all but one string disintegrated. I held up the finger the string was attached to and the thread wiggled as it stood on its end. “And, uh…they can…take people’s...souls…” I immediately regretted sparing that part. The last string disappeared.

“That… IS FREAKING COOL!!! How?”

I blinked at her feedback, “Oh, well, first I use blue magic to pull it out, then I, uh, just. Take it? I don’t know, I’ve never done it before… And I just call them Soul Strings.”

“That’s amazing! It’s so cool that you have blue magic, though I guess it’s customary for skeletons! Can I see your bone attacks?” Feign gasped and her eyes widened, “Wait, do you have blasters?!”

I swear, if this were an anime, her eyes would be sparkling!

“Uh, thanks! No, I don’t have bone attacks or blasters…” I could feel my face warming up from the praise.

“Oh, okay. The Soul Strings are cool enough. Alright, your turn!” she looked at me expectantly, almost like a puppy.

“M-my turn for what?”

“I just asked you an invasive question, now you ask me one!”

If she were Lesser Dog, she’d be through the roof, I almost laughed aloud at this thought.

“I mean, are you sure?”

“Definitely.”

“Um, alright then.” I thought for a moment trying to think of something that would still respect her privacy, “Uh, what trait are you?”

“Pfft, that’s boring but fine. I am a…Trust soul!” Feign did jazz hands again.

I thought through the seven traits. “A-a Trust soul? But there’s no such thing! There’s just Determination, Justice, and Patience and stuff.” Ink said this was a normal Pacifist Timeline, just straight Undertale!

“Oh, no, those are just the big ones. There are more between them. My soul is sort of a blueish-purple.” Feign put her hands to her chest and when she pulled them away, they were cupped around a floating indigo heart.

Ink, you crap-hole of a liar.

After I gave Feign a satisfactory ‘whoa’ she closed her hands and the heart disappeared in a flash of blue sparks.

#GIAM #Undertale AU #Undertale fanfic #growing into a mask #sry i took so long #i had it sitting on my desk for the longest time #all i had to do was turn it into text

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queenofthefullmoon · 5 years

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An exhaustive list of Dark Souls II: Scholar of the First Sin bosses I would or would not date

The Last Giant

Listen… The Last Giant has No Face. I like dating people who have faces. Also, his arms detach and he’s like, at least 10 meters taller than me, so I think that would be a hazard. I think he’s more in need of a friend than a romantic partner. I’d gladly sit down with him and discuss his feelings, but we are not meant to date.

The Pursuer

The Pursuer is great because he’s just so… Rotund. He’s shaped like a friend. Or maybe… More than a friend… He’s got a biggass sword that glows blue, which is great if you need to get up at night to get water or a snack, and a big shield he can use to protect you from the hot Drangleic sun when you’re on a date. You never have to worry about losing him because HE WILL FIND YOU. I think he’s a catch.

Dragonrider

He almost didn’t make it in the list of bosses I would date, but encountering him so often made me have a soft spot for him. Plus he’s a little bit round and I’ve gotta say. Rotundness is where it’s at. He’s fun to fight so I feel like you could have some fun jousts together and then chill… And go, like, I don’t know, ride dragons*? Fun couple activities.

*although dragonrider is his name I’m not sure we saw any dragonrider ride a dragon so this is a shot in the dark

Old Dragonslayer

The Old Dragonslayer has a very sexy armor, I’ll give him that, but he 1. Has a furry mask (a terrible fashion faux pas that I cannot forgive) 2. Is just sitting in the Cathedral of Blue while a DRAGON is outside, unslayed, which says something about the quality of his work. I had to kill the dragon myself, while the Old Dragonslayer was sitting around… Being old, I guess. Not for me.

Flexile Sentry

DISGUSTING AND WRONG.

Ruin Sentinel

The Ruin Sentinels are arguably the sexiest armor bosses in all of Dark Souls II: Scholar of the First Sin. Something about these long lads and their eldritch identities and behaviors just tickles me the right way. The shape of their helmets looks a little bit like a turtle which gives them just enough cuteness while not taking away from the fact that I’m absolutely terrified of them and that they are in fact very scary (which is good). They’re also very tall which means they can carry me around and make me feel tall too. Definitely a good thing in a partner.

Belfry Gargoyles

I wouldn’t date the Belfry Gargoyles, but I’d be friends with them. I feel like they’d be fun at a sleepover. Girl’s night! Girl’s night!

Lost Sinner

I’d date the Lost Sinner. It might be a little bit controversial because yes she is a little bit nasty, I’m aware of that, but I think she just needs a little bit of company. I don’t want to change her, I love her right like she is, but if she wants me to teach her how to shower, I might just do it! I am a little bit biased because she’s got a big sword that looks really cool? Perhaps.

Executioner’s Chariot

NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO

Skeleton Lords

I think the Skeleton Lords are neat but I don’t really see myself dating them. Firstly, I’m not a skeleton fucker, so that puts a little bit of distance between us (given that they are in fact skeletons). They also have an army of skeleton children, which I’m just not ready to raise. I’m trying to find a date, not to become a skeleton mom. I feel like we’d be great friends though, I’d probably invite them over so they can practice their standup routine at my house while they leave their 30 skeletons children with the babysitter and we can like drink wine or something.

Covetous Demon

I would not date the Covetous Demon, but I would keep him as a mean dog in my yard to discourage my enemies from entering my property.

Baneful Queen Mytha

I’d be all here for the sniddies if Mytha kept her head on her neck but alas she is headless.

Smelter Demon

Mh… Yes. He’s big and large and he’s got horns. He could put me up on his shoulder and walk around and I’d be warm up there. Sounds like nothing but a good time.

Old Iron King

Ngghghhh….. I wanna say no but he is Ripped… Absolutely jacked! I’m also a hoe for horns and wings! What can I say. Call me out if I ever make fun of scalies again? (im gonna do that like in a few paragraphs anyway)

Scorpioness Najka

Given the fact that her own fiancé, made miserable by her, asks you to murder her, I don’t think Najka is a fine romantic partner. In addition to that, even though I was here for sniddies, scorpions are scary and gross me out, so no, I would not date Scorpioness Najka.

The Duke’s Dear Freja

She’ll remain dear to the Duke only and she is NOT invited in my yard.

Royal Rat Authority

Wouldn’t date the big rat that makes all of the rules, but similarly to the Covetous Demon, having him on my property to scare people away would be pretty neat.

Prowling Magus and The Congregation

Prowling Magus has a SICK aesthetic I can absolutely get behind (« look at my cool sorcerer boyfriend wearing his goat helmet ») and I’ve stated before I Am a Hoe for horns so we could have something going on.

The Congregation is however BANNED from this house so since they’re probably his buddies that would most likely be a point of tension. Ultimately it might be better for me to keep a platonic relationship with Prowling Magus, as I do not want hollows to crawl on my floor when he invites his friends over.

The Rotten

Oh no lol

Looking Glass Knight

NNNYES absolutely I would date the Looking Glass Knight. He’s not only really cool looking and a Very Dramatic Man (standing in the rain when you meet him… the scenery… the atmosphere… he knows how to make an entrance), but he’d also be a great person to bring with you for a night out.

Exhibit A: he’s really fucking tall and scary which would dissuade anyone from approaching you uninvited

Exhibit B : he carries a FULL BODY mirror around everywhere which means you can fix your hair and/or makeup at any time without needing a shitty pocket mirror or going to the bathroom

Exhibit C : if you need help he can summon a limitless amount of people through his mirror

Just a great partner all around.

Demon of Song

Ohhhhhh noooooo Lord nooooooooooooooo please! Please spare me

Velstadt, the Royal Aegis

Velstadt is very loyal (a real man for following Vendrick all the way to the Undead Crypt) and he’s also very tall, very large, very strong, and very stylish (see the scales cape he wears). I would’ve put him at the top of the date list, but he’s no dating material — he’s husband material. A little downside is that he might put his job before me but I get it. It’s career before everything. I will not limit my husband’s ambitions.

King Vendrick

Vendrick is taken by an eldritch entity and still very much in love with her despite the fact that she destroyed his kingdom and brought the entire civilization down and also caused him to become a war criminal and kill a pacific race of giants all on his own like a big boy so I’m not very interested in him.

Guardian Dragon & Ancient Dragon

I’m putting them together because they essentially boil down to the same thing : I’d offer them a home but I wouldn’t date them. The Guardian Dragon can stay outside and be feral with everyone else that I put in the yard, while the Ancient Dragon can have his own room and like is invited for tea sometimes, but that’s all.

Giant Lord

See Last Giant

Throne Defender & Watcher

I’m a little bit torn on this one because I’m experiencing bisexual panic. We’ve got cool large dude with a beard ; cool slender lady that jumps around everywhere ; they could both beat me up and they both look hot, help me. However, I have to say if I had to pick I’d got with the Throne Watcher because she is hot and looks slightly cooler. I’ve always wanted a very tall wife who could suplex me into the sun, which she could do in a heartbeat.

On the other hand, they do look like a power couple that I’d love to have for dinner and I’d hate to break them up while there are so many fish in the sea and they look so great with each other.

Nashandra

Human Nashandra looks pretty and soft, however anyone who witnessed my first blind playthrough of Dark Souls II: Scholar of the First Sin will tell you that she did not have me fooled and I was very wary of her from the beginning. Anyone who has witnessed my first fight with her looking very skeletal will also tell you that I screamed « WHAT IS THAT » for at least 5 minutes, so that probably gives you an idea of if I’d date her or not.

Also, her weapon of choice is a scythe, which looks cool, but is very unpractical, and just for this fatal mistake, she becomes undatable.

Darklurker

Wings… Four arms = twice the hugs… Cool hood… Yes…

Elana the Squalid Queen

She’s nasty and told me I was undeserving of the mire, which is pretty mean of her. Even if she thinks it, she could at least be nice about it. I would not date her.

Sinh the Slumbering Dragon

Sinh is BANNED from this house because he’s not just feral, he’s RABID and POISONOUS and if I let him live in the yard he could poison my entire property and I do not want that.

Fume Knight

Alas! The Fume Knight looks really cool and has a pretty sexy armor, but tales say that he was infatuated with another woman (whether he met her when she was already an Ashen Idol or not remains a mystery but I’m no one to judge his taste in women). I respect people’s crushes so I will let him be in love with whoever he fancies and they may come over for dinner, as long as they behave.

Aava, Lud and Zallen, the King’s pet

They are very welcome to live in the yard. They may come inside the house, but they are not allowed on the couch.

Burnt Ivory King

No… He loved his wife very much… I’d invite them over for dinner and MAYBE try to seduce one of his knights (they have sexy armors, what can I say).

Aldia, Scholar of the First Sin

Aldia is a weird dude and I wouldn’t feel safe around him. I think he’d probably kidnap me while I’m asleep and go do some experiments on me in his cursed mansion. It’s a no from me chief. Not to mention the fact that he’s a… tree?

Afflicted Graverobber, Ancient Soldier Varg, and Cerah the Old Explorer

I wouldn’t date them, even though their armors are pretty sexy, simply because they seem like a good group of friends and I wouldn’t feel comfortable inserting myself in the group. I think I’d even be too shy to befriend them, but if they wanna come by my house and have a good time, they’re welcome to do so.

Blue Smelter Demon

See Smelter Demon, but with more vigor because this one is blue.

Sir Alonne

Yeah… he’s got the eldritch factor that I like in the Ruin Sentinels while also seeming more human and he’s also a pretty stylish man. I feel like he’s one of the strongest contestants in the game and he wouldn’t mind my long nose, as he’s got one himself. Pretty sexy armor and he is a man of honor. Definitely a yes.

#oh boy i did it!#dark souls #dark souls 2 #dark souls 2: scholar of the first sin #blue's adventures #my posts #what can i say i love lists #ds2

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davinamarr · 5 years

Text

SP Bedlam mini review/general thoughts - very long very sorry!!!

howdy skeleton fuckers, I’m here to talk about Bedlam. There’s gonna be some spoilers in here so please be wary if you haven’t started reading Bedlam yet or haven’t finished! I’ll tag the post with spoilers so it can be filtered out for y’all who aren’t done with the book yet.

Right

Here we go babeyssssss

So, I think Bedlam was a massive step up from both Resurrection and Midnight. I’ll be kind and put it down to the fact that there were a shit ton of new characters introduced, a new complex plot to keep up with and all that fancy stuff as a reason for why the first two books of phase 2 felt so shaky to me. I enjoyed them, but they definitely had the feeling like Derek was getting to grips with writing these characters again and writing the new characters and really feeling them out and getting them right.

Bedlam felt so right. It felt like how the books from phase 1 felt; familiar and strangely comfortable, like I was well acquainted with the style and format and characters and plot.

Into the good stuff now!

Okay, so I loved Abyssinia from the beginning of Phase 2. She’s a fucking loony and I loved that about her but I also loved her deeply caring side, too. Even though her intentions were far from perfect and her love for Caisson sometimes seemed very self-centered and like he was merely a ploy in her plan, there were times in Bedlam were it was evident that she really, genuinely loved him. When she was beating the shit out of Valkyrie and immediately ceased her attack because Caisson was dying it was heart-wrenching and showed us that she genuinely loved her son, even if she did show it in a psychopathic, dysfunctional and massively controlling way. We all have our flaws, right?

Next, Macaroni Bone Baby - or, as he’s been renamed, ‘macaroni mev muppet’ or ‘bastard mev baby’

Am I thoroughly disappointed that Caisson wasn’t Skulduggery’s son? Absolutely.

Did I also predict that Mevolent was his dad very quickly into the book? Also yes.

I feel like it was somewhat obvious but I still enjoyed the build up and the pure drama of the scene where Caisson’s true magic sperm donor is revealed. Although, I guess he has a literal sperm donor and no magic was actually involved.

My sweet baby Razzia, why did she have to die? She could have been such a cool character to keep around. Similar to how Fletcher jumps in and helps occasionally.

Also, Fletcher - that man finally joined the team again and it just made me so happy to see him not being totally sidelined like he usually is! Team Fletcher!

Valitsa, the ship I never knew I needed. Oh my God, I actually love this ship so much. It’s so sweet and genuine, I totally respect your opinion if you disliked it because I wasn’t entirely sure how I felt about it when it was being speculated after Midnight but goddamn my little heart couldn’t take any scenes where they interacted with each other. 10/10 would recommend.

Alice - she’s finally got her soul, sweet baby! I hope she gets those 7 years worth of tears out and we get to see more of her because I love Alice so much and I love the relationship her and Valkyrie have because it’s soooooooo sweet I’m gonna fuckin cryyyy

OH, speaking of Alice, I kind of had my prediction slightly wrong! I immediately thought that Alice was going to be the descendant of the Faceless Ones and not Valkyrie, but I entirely see the connection between Valkyrie and the Faceless Ones and why it would be her rather than Alice.

We finally got our fill of Tanith Low! My sweet blonde haired slim thicc baby! I love Tanith and I’m so glad she had quite a few appearances in this book and I sincerely hope she continues to be a main-ish character again.

And China, will she ever stop being so annoyingly mysterious? I secretly love cold-hearted-angry-bitch China that arrests her closest friends without hesitation and I would 100% let her step on me if she wanted to. I’m very curious as to who that man in her dream was when she was 19 and the vision of Solace and the referring to her as ‘mother.’ Very ominous, Landy.

Also, Skulduggery HAS A BROTHER!!!!!!

A LIVING, BREATHING, MAGICAL BROTHER!!!!!!!

WHAT THE FUCK

Never and Omen are still some of my favourite characters and Omen is still my sweet baby boy son and if any of you touch him we’re gonna FIGHT

Sebastian on Lily’s scooter was probably the highlight of their little dimension-jumping escapade, because I’ll be frank here, I wasn’t entirely interested in the Darquesse club thing but that last chapter definitely drew me in!

I’m gonna end this here with a swift apology about my lack of posts here. As you know, I’ve been going through some shit for the past 2 months and my last A Level exams are in full swing so I’m basically spending all my time either convincing myself that I’m okay or revising. I’m planning a re-read of the whole series this summer as my summer task and I’d like to post chapter by chapter summaries/thoughts posts. Hopefully I’ll be posting more soon since I’ve read Bedlam and the fandom is picking up again. Thanks for stopping by!

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sleepyfan-blog · 5 years

Text

Fandom: Darkness!Drifter by @bl3ppsn3kk Driftverse by @onebizarrekai

Characters and pairing: Underfell!Sans, Underswap!Sans, Dream, Nightmare, Underkeep!Sans, Outertale!Sans, Epic!Sans, Cross!Sans, Darkness!Dreammare

Warnings: character death, swearing, violence, manipulation, abusive relationship tw, angst

Word count: 4,034

Summary: Darkness!Drifter, but with Asshole Nightmare.

Underfell Sans 9054’s reaction when he stabbed the other straight through the soul, pinning the other bodily as well, hissing “You arrogant fool, did you really think that I wouldn’t notice that you’ve been finding ways to slip information to those pathetic rebels in your insignificant AU?”

“F-FUCK YOU! YOU PROMISED THAT YOU WOULD LET PAP LIVE IF I HELPED YOU!” The Fell Sans cursed, struggling with his final breath to summon an attack, even as his body crumbled to dust slowly around him.

“And I did let him live - up until the fool attempted to attack me. Then he died, as all traitors do. I warned you that if you crossed me, you would pay with your life.” Nightmare smirked, his visible eye light shining brightly “I do regret not killing him in front of you. Perhaps that would have broken some of the rebellious spirit inside of you. Then again, through your bumbling attempts at stealth and secrecy have led me straight to the so-called leaders of this pathetic attempt at resistance.”

“F… Fu...Ck… You…” The Fell Sans spat, managing to gather up enough energy to summon a blaster and sending a weak pulse of pure magic Nightmare’s way.

Entirely too slowly, and the dark overlord laughs as he casually steps aside, avoiding the slow burst of the dying monster’s magic, flicking his tentacle and wiping it clean of the mustard and dust that had coated it on the other’s now empty clothes.

“P-Please… I-I’ll do anything! J-Just please s-stop th-this!” Underswap Sans 2166 begged, tears streaming down his face. Interestingly enough, this Sans wore golden armor, instead of the usual blue. He was on his hands and knees, trembling violently.

Nightmare hummed for a moment - the other’s magical tears were a light teal color - and he wrapped a tentacle around the other’s waist, glancing at the other consideringly. The other’s despair and fear were exquisite for the lord of negativity to feel. Besides, Dust had been complaining that his latest toy had broken recently “And what would you give me in exchange for sparing your world, hmmm?”

“I… A-any… Anything! W-Whatever you w-want of me, I-I’ll do it!” The Swap Sans begged, the tears continuing to stream down his face. On the other hand, the younger skeleton was doing admirably not to snivel and crawl up into an unintelligible ball of fear and distress - which was impressive for a swap.

“Very well. You will accompany me to another world. You will be… Trained by the person I give you too, for what he requires of you. Do you understand?” Nightmare explained, a small smirk appearing on his face.

His brother was barely conscious, and fear, hatred and distress were the Papyrus’s greatest emotions at this point in time. The other called out weakly “B-Bro… D… Don’t do it…”

Curiously, the Swap Sans rallied himself a little at the sound of his brother’s voice, wiping his face free of tears, a bit of steel entering the other’s voice “O… Okay. As long as you promise that neither you, nor any of your people will ever step foot in this world again. I will… I will go with you. B-But first I want the human released back here, so that… So that all of the damage that has been caused to this world can be undone.”

Nightmare blinked a little bit in surprise - not expecting the other to try to negotiate with him. Hmm, perhaps the other might be useful in other ways? The grin on his face stretched wider and he answered “Agreed.” He snapped his fingers, and the unconscious form of the determined human child reappeared. They were badly injured, but still breathing if only barely. The tentacle wrapped around the Underswap Sans’s waist tightened a little as he created a portal, pulling the both of them through. Nightmare paused just long enough once on the other side of the portal to strike the human directly through the chest, shattering their soul in order to force a reset.

He of course let the Swap Sans see this, and hear the human’s scream of dying agony.

“Nightmare, you don’t have to do this! You can… You can stop fighting, and we… We can look for a cure for the corruption together.” Dream called out from where he was crouching, perched on a sturdy tree branch, his bow strung and pointed directly at the other, his hands shaking just a little, despite the confidence in his voice.

“And just why should I stop? They never stopped trying to hurt me, no matter how much I begged them? Now I have the power to do as I wish to whoever I want. Where are those adorable friends of yours, Dream? I thought that you and Ink were joined at the hip - along with at least one mortal tagalong for cannon fodder.” Nightmare purred as he stalked closer to his other half, making his way to the other. This was a surface AU - a rather pretty one at that. It was going to be so much fun to twist.

“None of them are cannon fodder! They are my friends and allies, Nightmare!” Dream hissed, his eye light shrinking a little, shifting a bit on his perch before teleporting to the other side of the clearing and shooting at him.

Nightmare didn’t even have to dodge as the arrow flew wide and buried itself in a bush before dissipating. The corrupted guardian laughed “Come now, Dream. I know you’re a better marksman than that. Or was that a warning shot? You know I won’t stop simply because you plead with me and cry.” He sent a couple of tentacles after Dream, grinning as he watched the other dodge, leaping from branch to branch.

Dream never saw one of his tentacles move one of the branches, which whacked the other out of the canopy and sending him sprawling on the ground, landing on one of his sides with a would-be sickening crack if he cared about the other’s health and safety. But it wasn’t a mortal blow, so Nightmare didn’t care. The other groaned weakly, trying to get up, only to collapse against the ground, stunned and bleeding magic.

Nightmare sent several tentacles after Dream, intent on capturing the other again - only to hiss and draw away as several Gaster Blasters appeared out of nowhere, their raw magical energy slamming into his grasping tentacles and severing them as he withdrew them. An Underkeep and an Outerfell Sans appeared out of nowhere, similar scowls of protective fury on their faces and in their emotional auras, sending wave after wave of bones after him in a surprisingly synchronized attack. “Everything’s clear - Ink sent us on ahead to see how you were fairing! We’ll grab you and retreat back to safety.” The Underkeep Sans called over his shoulder at the injured Dream, who only groaned in response. They escaped before Nightmare could break through their bone walls.

Outertale 123. It was a post-pacifist AU where the monsters had been set free of the barrier decades ago in their timeline, and after some initial bumpiness, both humans and monsters grew to love and respect one another, and explored and terraformed distant stars and planets to their souls’ content. It was exactly the sickeningly sweet bullshit that his other half would be so delighted to see.

Naturally it disgusted Nightmare. These people were far too happy for his liking. A dark smirk played on his lips as he stalked after the Sans of this timeline. He’d been picking off people in the other’s life for weeks now - killing them when they were alone, and leaving their dust for the Sans alone to find. The other had gone from concerned and confused, to wary and despairing. What made it better was the fact that rumors and whispers of that Sans being the one to blame for their deaths, despite being the head arbiter of Monster kind, and a well-respected and beloved comedian.

He was on his way to talk to his brother, Papyrus, who believed in and loved his brother, and had agreed to watch over the other, in case something was happening to him when he slept. The two of them walked down a star-lit alleyway, and Nightmare couldn’t help but laugh, the dark, echoing sound causing both of the younger skeletons to freeze. “Well, well. Isn’t this just sweet?”

“Oh fuck. I recognize you from my worst nightmares!” The Outertale Sans swore, dragging his brother back behind him “P-Papyrus, run! I… I’ll handle this guy. G-Go to Undyne and tell her to bring the guard - and I mean all of them!”

“BROTHER? IS THIS SOMEONE FROM THOSE SIGHT-VISION THINGS OF YOURS?” The Papyrus asked with a frown, unwilling to leave his brother behind to this goopy stranger.

“Huh… You’re a Seer. That’s rather unusual for a Sans. But I already have three of you working for me anyways.” Nightmare shrugged “So I’m sorry, but you’d just be unnecessary.”

“PAPYRUS RUN NOW!” The Sans yelled, throwing up several walls of bones and summoning several blasters at the same time, breaking out his bold voice.

The Papyrus made it three steps before Nightmare teleported behind both of the brothers and pierced both of their souls with his tentacles, laughing darkly as he did so “Far too late, little seer. Your power is no match for mine.” They coughed, sputtered once and turned to dust, desperately trying to reach out to one another to hold hands, their fingers turning to dust and mixing together.

“Bruh! It’s been forever since we’ve seen each other! I’ve missed you superbad, man.” A tall, purple clad Sans called out, tackling Cross and hugging him tightly “Ink has been.. Such a cagey jerk about where you’ve been and it’s sucked! But you’re here! I’ve got so many dank memes to show you.”

“Dude! I didn’t know you were visiting this timeline!” Cross responded, a wide grin appearing on his face as he hugged the other back just as tightly “Yeah… I’m really mad at Ink for… Reasons I totally don’t want to go into, because it will bring down my mood, and with you here, I feel great. You always make me happy, E.” The normally stoic Sans’s face had light up, and his emotions were much lighter than Nightmare had ever sensed them.

What the actual fuck was going on? Curious and intrigued, Nightmare leaned against one of the huge buildings of this world, content to watch for the moment.

“Ouch, bruh. I mean, I totally get it - Ink can be such a bastard sometimes- especially if he’s forgotten to take his vials and Dream’s not around him… Wait, have you even met Dream?” E as he was so named asked, his eye lights brightening a little “The little dude is amazing, you totally should. It’s like… Just being around him makes me feel as if everything’s going to be okay. He tries super hard to help everyone and is…” The skeleton brought two fingers up to his teeth and kissed his fingers with his hand before gesturing away from himself briefly.

That had absolutely no meaning whatsoever to Nightmare, who tilted his head a little, and was further confused at the incredibly over-dramatic gasp from Cross, who’s eye lights had widened before turning into stars for fuck’s sake.

“No! I haven’t. But if he really can do something like that… I’d love to meet him.” Cross responded, his eye lights still stars. His emotions were almost entirely positive in nature, and that stupid smile was still on his face. He frowned a little, the good feelings fading somewhat “I… Have met someone else though. He uhh… He’s a scary dude. And the skeles he runs with…” Cross shudders, his bones rattling a little, grimacing a little.

“That bad, bruh?” E prodded, a look of concern appearing on his face as he pulled the other a little bit closer. The two of them hadn’t stopped hugging since the purple Sans had tackled him minutes ago. It was odd to see Cross allowing such sustained contact with someone willingly.

“You have. No idea. Dude, I… I just wanna hang with you, man. I don’t want to think about him or the jackass squad. They’re worse than Fresh and Error.” Cross muttered, shuddering again and looking around “Dude! Is that a meme store I see! We should go in! I wonder if they’ve got rubber chickens that we could fight with. That was so much fun last time.”

Nightmare wondered if this was code for something. However as Cross excitedly dragged the other into the obnoxiously neon colored store and back out minutes later, there were two rubber chickens clutched tightly in both Sanses’ hands. Cross turned to face the other, a serious expression on his face for the first time since they’d started talking “You ready for this, dude?”

“You betcha, bruh!” E called out, gripping his rubber chickens and charging Cross, whacking him over the head with one of them, an unholy sound leaving the strange toy. It sent a shudder straight through Nightmare, who suddenly teleported between the two of them “That is it. Cross, put those ridiculous things down right now. You either kill this hapless moron right now, or I will.”

The joy and happiness within Cross’s emotional aura - and the smile on his face - vanished abruptly. He took a couple of small steps back, his eye lights shrinking to pinpricks “Ni… Nightmare… How long have… Have you-” The other stuttered, fear and panic in his aura.

“Since the two of you first started hugging. Kill him, Cross.” Nightmare ordered, scowling darkly at his unruly subordinate.

“Uhhh… Who the fu-” The purple skeleton started, only to be cut off by Cross.

“Epic, p-please let me handle this!” Cross snapped, shaking a little “I… I’m s-sorry for acting s-so ridiculous in front of you, Boss! He… He’s a powerful fighter. He’s from an AU called Epic!Tale and he’s a powerful fighter. He can be really useful to you please don’t make me kill him or kill him in front of me! P… Please? He… He’s my best friend…”

Nightmare tilted his head a little, as if considering the other’s plea “... And how do I have any indication that he’s more than the ridiculous simpleton that he was when the two of you were acting like before you realized that I was here, hmm? Or is that his special ability, to make other people act like idiots?”

“It-It’s not like that boss, I swear! We… We’ve both had some really shitty lives before… Before we met each other and… And together we use humor in order to cope and relate to each other.” Cross had fallen to his knees, his hands cupped in front of him in a pleading gesture, tears gathering in his eye sockets “Please… Boss… Epic c-can be useful to you, an-and I’ll make sure that he knows the rules and everything!”

“One week. You have one week to prove that he is a useful tool to me - and if he resists any order I give him, you will wish you’d have killed him by the time I’ve finished with him. Is that understood?” The fallen guardian hissed. Cross nodded frantically and dragged his friend away from him, whispering frantically, eye lights dim and shattered.

Nightmare gasped a little as he woke from the memories that the strange voices had prompted him to remember. A small smirk appeared on his lips as thousands more memories of causing others fear and pain flashed through his mind. A soft, dangerous chuckle rumbled through his chest as he wondered if he was alone in this body - or if Dream resided somewhere within this body - perhaps slumbering? He froze up for a moment as another memory rushed to the forefront of his mind… However this one, was from his other half.

Nightmare loomed over him, his cyan eye lights burning brightly, the other’s fury and indignation pressing hard against Dream’s senses, causing the corrupted positive spirit to whimper a little as he cringed away from the other “N-Nightmare?” He asked, voice trembling a little as he tried to figure out why the other was so upset.

“I told you not to leave this room, didn’t I?” Nightmare growled, grabbing his wrists with one hand and pressing them over his head, the other’s grip painful and bruising.

“Y-You d-did, Nightmare.” Dream stammered out, his eye lights shrinking to pinpricks as he glanced away from the other. He flinched as he felt the negative guardian’s other hand grab his chin and yank his face so he was forced to look up at the other.

“So why did Killer and Dust tell me that they saw you in the kitchen, Dream? I don’t make these rules up because I want to. My minions are violent and unstable. While I have informed them that you aren’t a threat to them any longer, I don’t trust them not to try to hurt you anyways.” Nightmare hissed, shaking the other’s head a little “And if they kill you, that will kill me too? Is that what you want? Do you want the both of us to die?”

“N-No, Ni-Nightmare! I… I’m s-sorry I le-left your be-bedroom. I sh-shouldn’t have.” Dream stuttered, feeling a strange, tarry substance start to drip out of his eye sockets and slide along his temples, onto the other’s expensive sheets.

“Why did you leave this room, anyways?” Nightmare pressed, glaring darkly down at him “I ask so little of you, I just thought that you might be able to follow such a simple request…” he clicked his tongue at him, shaking his head, disappointed. He suddenly let the other go, refusing to look at the other.

Somehow that was even worse than the anger and bruising touches. “I…” Dream started, his voice small and ashamed.

The lord of darkness briefly glanced at his other half before looking away again, huffing a little “I hope this isn’t a prelude to you abandoning me again, Dream.”

“N-No of c-course not! I was just… I was just hu-hungry… And w… Wanted to get something to eat…” Dream admitted very quietly, shrinking in on himself. He tentatively reached out to Nightmare, his voice gaining a little bit of strength “I… I’m sorry…”

Nightmare brushed off his touch and got off of his bed, snapping at Dream as the other started to move “Stay put. And you keep saying that, over and over again… Yet I can’t help but wonder if you really mean it, or if your apologies are completely without sincerity.”

Dream flinched but stayed put, hoping that his obedience now would show the other that he was genuinely apologetic - along with how he was feeling. “M-My a-apologies are genuine, N-Nightmare! I-I promise… I’m sorry… I’ll s-stay here. I w-won’t move… I wo-won’t let anyone in here b-but you… I’m sorry, p-please d-don’t se-send me away N-Nightmare! I… I’ll behave. I promise!” The strange substance started to flow down his cheeks again as Dream shook, waiting desperately for the other to respond.

It felt like an eternity before Nightmare responded, his voice clipped and irritated “Look at me Dream.”

The fallen guardian of positivity obeyed instantly, staring at the other with wide, terrified eye lights, waiting for the other to decide his fate “Y-Yes, N-Nightmare…”

“I want to believe you when you say that you’ll do as I say… But you haven’t been able to prove that to me. On the contrary, it’s been less than a week since you’ve come to live with me, and you’ve disobeyed me twice now. I’m afraid that I’m going to have more than just promises that you’ll behave this time, Dream.” The other sighed, shaking his head a little as he got up, walking over to one of his drawers and pulling out a set of chains. They were long enough for someone to wander around the bedroom - provided that they were attached to someone’s legs, but no further. Nightmare then attached one of the ends of the manacles to one of the feet of the massive four-poster bed, the other still in his hands as the other looked at him steady “Now, I’m going to give you a choice. Do you want one of your wrists bound to the bed, or one of your ankles?”

Dream froze up for a moment, feeling as if all the air in the room had vanished. No. He trusted Nightmare. He loved Nightmare. And the other loved him back. The other could have just forced the chains on one of his limbs without asking- Nightmare had the brute strength to do so, but he hadn’t. He crawled towards the other on the bed and, after a moment’s hesitation, stuck out his right arm for the other to chain “My… My right wrist please…” Dream couldn’t quite look the other in the eye lights, starting a little as he felt the buzz of magic-restricting runes against his bones as the manacle clicked around his wrist.

Nightmare smirked a little, gently tilting Dream’s chin so that he had to look the other directly again “Thank you for cooperating with me. I understand that these rules will be an adjustment for you… But please believe me when I tell you that I will provide for your needs, Dream? You do trust me, don’t you?”

“I do trust you, Nighty! I promise.” Dream answered quickly, nodding a little and trying to suppress a yawn and failing… He’d been a little tired before, but with the magic-restricting nature of the manacle on his wrist, it was quickly sapping him of energy.

Nightmare chuckled softly, getting back on the bed and scooping up his other half, pressing a light kiss to the other’s forehead “Rest, Dream. I have finished my work for the day, and I don’t mind watching you sleep… Besides, a nap sounds wonderful.”

The formerly positive spirit yawned a little more, nuzzling into Nightmare as he slowly relaxed into the other’s grasp. What felt like minutes later, Dream woke up with a startled gasp, flailing a little and panicking briefly as he felt Nightmare hold him… Before he remembered surrendering to his other half and being brought home. He smiled in relief as he realized that he had no chains on either of his wrists. They ached a little but he’d apparently been sleeping on them, so that made sense. Dream didn’t notice the silver manacle on one end of the bed, and most of it was hidden beneath the blankets that Nightmare had covered him by - but the other half of the end of the chain was wrapped lightly around both of Dream’s ankles.

Nightmare mentally shook himself as he pulled himself free of Dream’s memories before he could get lost in the many manipulations he’d pulled on the other. Of course the other loved him dearly and desperately… Given all that he’d manage to cajole the other into doing since Dream had surrendered to him. But it was wonderful to feel just how deeply and completely the other felt for him. Nightmare was curious to see whether or not Dream could feel his own feelings of care for the other…

“... Nightmare?” Dream called out, insubstantial and see-through. He was still wearing the outfit that he’d picked out for him, his eye lights mostly blue with hints of gold. “W-What’s going on?”

“The two of us were somehow combined into a single being. I’m not sure how or why.” Nightmare responded, a small smirk playing on his lips as he sat down and looked up at the tree of feelings, the positive and negative apples just… Hanging there. Waiting to be taken.

“Oh… At least that means that no one can ever take us away from each other! We’ll be together forever.” Dream responded after a moment, a brilliant smile appearing on his face “That makes me so happy!”

“I’m glad that we’ll be together forever as well, my darling daydream…” Nightmare purred quietly in response, reflecting on what he wanted to do next. There were so many possibilities.

#my writing #dreammare #darkness!dreammare #Dream #Nightmare #Cross #outertale sans #fell sans #swap sans #epic sans #character death tw #swearing tw #violence tw #manipulation tw #abusive relationship tw #underkeep!sans #outerfell!sans #Outcome: stardust

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skeletorific · 6 years

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Underfell and Swapfell Meta (aka the longest fucking post)

*You hear a distant sound of knuckles cracking. There is a shuffle, like someone sitting down and then a sound of rapid typing.

Let’s begin.

So. To start broadly:

What does it mean to “Fell” a timeline?

The original Underfell began as a simple concept: an alternative universe where “kill or be killed” was not simply Flowey’s bleak outlook, but the law of the land.

What I’m interested in dissecting here is how that law is enforced in both Fell and Swapfell, and how the societies these different enforcements styles influence the characters that populate it.

I’m going to start off with a similar origin story for the “kill or be killed” law, referring to characters by their roles rather than their names to avoid Asgore/Toriel, Frisk/Chara, etc confusion.

Essentially, both Fell and Swapfell already had worlds that were naturally more inclined to certain levels of brutality and violence, but these took a decided turn for the worst when the First Human and the Royal Heir made an attempt to break the barrier and were slaughtered by the humans living at the foot of Ebott. In a fit of grief and anger the Ruler Goat declared not only all-out war on humanity, but that until they were free of the barrier, the weak would be winnowed out of their society to ensure that when they Barrier collapsed humanity would be facing the strongest fighting force monsterkind could muster. This is the world that the Pacifist Child will eventually fall into.

This is where the timelines diverge.

I’ll start with Fell, for.....

reasons.

Asgore, regardless of universe, is inclined to make impulsive decisions, especially when under emotional duress. His Fell counterpart is no different in this. In his grief and anger he enacted the harshest forms of martial law, promising to his subjects that unless they were prepared to fight for their lives, they would not be allowed to keep them. Monsters as a society have a strong sense of communal emotion. They felt his anger as their own, and in the end, enough of them were incensed enough against humans that they were ready to follow his lead even down this darkest of paths. The few dissenting voices were soon too busy fighting off the others to rebel, and eventually were either wiped out or had adjusted to the new world order.

The first few years were pure anarchy. Monsters barely stirred outside their door, expecting to be preyed upon at any moment. Certain, more friendly and trusting subsets of monsters, like Whimsuns and Vulkins, were completely wiped out. Others, like Tems and Froggits, had their numbers severely reduced and were forced to become far more brutal. It was during this period that Toriel decided she had had enough and left for the Ruins. At first, she tried to create a safe space for monsters to retreat to, but the violence found its way into the Ruins until she eventually sealed herself off. She is disillusioned and cold, and can in fact be one of the most frightening characters in the Underground if you get on her bad side.

The anarchy wasn’t sustainable. Even if you are the biggest and the strongest monster in the area, you eventually get tired of looking over your shoulder for attackers hoping to get lucky. Anarchy transformed into Kratocracy, rule of the strong. Eventual pockets of relative order started to form around the Underground. As mentioned, Toriel held sway over the Ruins, and though she cared little what her subjects did amongst themselves, she made certain she and any of her children would be able to walk freely.

In Snowdin, Grillby was the major power player. His bar was a strictly no-weapons zone: customers feeling unsafe was bad for business. The fireman became landlord/ defacto mayor (of sorts) over the area. He was strong enough to protect clients that paid his rent (excessive though it was), and eventually, troublemakers were either killed off or contented themselves with picking off the occasional straggler in the forest. Disappearances are not looked into but a tenuous order is kept. When the skeleton brothers moved in for a while it looked like there might be a bit of turf war between Edge and Fellby. However, Red saw to it that an uneasy truce was negotiated between them. Red ensures the Grillby’s shadier activities are ignored while Edge uses his influence over the local chapter of the Royal Guard to punish troublemakers.

Despite housing the Captain of the Royal Guard, Waterfall is a pretty much the Wild West. Tem Village and Gerson’s shop are perhaps the only areas where you can afford to sleep for a few minutes and even then its like as not your wallet will be taken in the process. Undyne has too much on her plate to be concerned with being on the clock at her own house. The area is home to some of the Underground’s most brutal and aggressive monsters, as well as a hilariously out of place snail ranch, run by the one being in the Underground who literally cannot be killed. Napstablook is not a good-tempered ghost, however, and lingering near his farm is not recommended.

The Lab is Alphys’ small kingdom, and in addition to the Amalgamates that serve as her guard dogs (brutal and twisted reminders of what she can do to monsters that cross her), she also has the Captain of the Royal Guard on a hook, and Undyne will send extra protection to her for whatever reason.

Hotland is deceptively peaceful. Muffet and Mettaton duke it out in a resource batter but open warfare is ultimately detrimental to both of them. It scares off the customers. Don’t let your guard down, though. This town is not a fist to a face, but a knife in the back. Not to mention the graphic stories of what Muffet will do to you if you don’t have money for safe passage.

The road to New Home is....surprisingly unguarded. Perhaps a silent challenge from Asgore to test his mettle. Or maybe the rumors are true. The king regrets his decision and silently prays he’ll be deposed. Angry and embittered by his countless losses, and remorseful for what he’s done to the world he once swore to protect.

Ultimately Underfell is not a society with any kind of consistent ruling class. The citizens of Snowdin are more beholden to Grillby and the brothers than whatever the royals are saying. All you need to gain and keep power is to be both strong and wary. There will always be challengers, but the battle is in many ways honest. Schemers are few and far between.

The Underground also places a supreme amount of emphasis on the militarization of its citizens. Though the purpose has been muddied there is still a strong belief that the reason they are still doing this is to make sure humans will be facing off against the strongest fighting force imaginable. Strength, however toxic, is valuable. Brawn is also prized over brain. While a certain amount of cunning is always welcome academic types are regarded as highly suspect. Its hard to communicate to people perpetually in danger of being killed off that yes, your equations are definitely helping. Alphys’ predecessor was thrown into his own Core for not producing results in a timely manner, and she is forever paranoid of meeting the same fate. This is also why Red is even more reticent than his Tale counterpart about his background as a scientist. Ultimately its safer for him to be perceived as a thug than an engineer.

However, the primary theme of Undertale rings true through all the AUs. There is something at the core of these people that is good. Though they can be lead by bullies and tyrants, they have a lot of respect for courage and determination. This is how a Pacifist Human can win them over. The willingness to continue to overcome obstacles while sticking to your principles is a rare trait, but one that they find fundamentally compelling. Everyone is beginning to grow weary of the war, of the loss. Suddenly the possibility of laying down their swords doesn’t seem nearly as distasteful as it once might have.

Swapfell is a very different story.

Now, buckle up kids, Toriel dissertation time.

The canon on Toriel is very....nebulous at best. Honestly this probably stems in part from the fact that most aus are built from a single character up, and this character is more often than not a Sans or a Papyrus. Its also probably a result of Toriel not being a particularly popular character for lengthy character dissertations and examination in the way Alphys or Papyrus is. Most people tend to leave it at goat mom, so the shuffle of Toriel through aus tends to be very.....flexible.

This isn’t to shit on any particular version of Toriel. We’re all making this shit up as we go along with aus and people are free to like what they like and make what they make. However, for me, what I prefer to do with aus is boil an Undertale character down to an essential flaw and an essential strength and try to preserve that across aus. For Sans, its resignation and perceptiveness. For Papyrus, its lack of self confidence and loyalty.

For Toriel, the two things I tend to preserve for her is this. Her essential flaw is stubborness, especially as relates to her stringent ethics. What she prioritizes may shift a bit. I think the Swap generally leads her to prioritize the freedom of her people over the lives of individual humans. But what is unchanging is her unwavering dedication to them. Regardless of who she has to cut out of her life, she will dedicate her all to those ethics. And her greatest strength is her maternal nature: she has a strong desire to bring out the best in people she cares about, and will tend to nurture them whether they like it or not.

Now, a Fell version would twist this a bit. No matter how I looked at it I couldn’t see any version of Toriel making the impulse choice to enact kill or be killed. No matter how brutal the world that’s quite a leap to make, and I never see Toriel as a person inclined to rashness.

So rather than a royal edict, I believe kill or be killed was less the law of the land, and more an ethos that slipped in. Swapfell Toriel is a gifted manipulator. Her maternal nature and her known attachments to everyone Underground meant she would be trusted. So when she began her work, it never occurred to anyone to distrust her.

Toriel’s resentment didn’t only fester towards humankind (though that certainly was a part of it). In a way she came to resent the world around her. How they were all chasing a dream that many of them would likely never see the end of. They grew and overtime came to forget her children as they looked towards the stars and prayed to be rejoined to them. As much as she wished the children had never gone, at least they had gotten up to do something. At least they had acted. Would any of these monsters have the courage to?

So Toriel did what any good mother would do when she saw her child sitting listless. She gave them a little push.

Rivalries were exacerbated by her playing back and forth between them. She encouraged Gaster, then Alphys to employ harsher tactics on lower criminals, arguing that consistent parasites would hurt the Underground more and more in the long run. At the same time, she pulled them back from larger conspiracies unless it was too big to ignore, creating an environment that proliferated backstabbing and theft. Her favor was never guaranteed with any of them, and she changed her minds on decisions that her courtiers feared that her mind had been taken in her grief, which earned her the moniker “The Mad Queen”. If she’s crazy, though, its like a fox.

Kill or be killed did become the law of the land, in practice if not indeed. The understanding was that anything goes, as long as you’re not stupid enough to caught. However, rather than kratocracy (rule of the strong), swapfell is more oligarchy (rule of a few). Those who already had previous access to resources and enough ruthlessness to survive quickly rose to the top.

Grillby and Napstaton continually battle for supremacy over Hotland and are the primary resource providers for the entire region. Their employees have the highest mortality rate of the entire Underground, but the pay is also unspeakably good. And given that both of them charge heavy protection fees to anyone unlucky enough to live in that area, many are willing to weather the risks.

Undyne runs her own roost in the lab but it largely content to remain unbothered by the outside world. There are rumors of her kidnapping monsters that get too close and....modifying them, but she’d argue that she’s doing them a favor by making them stronger.

Alphys’ extreme anxiety is more understandable than ever. Her job as Captain of the Royal Guard has rapidly transformed from keeper of justice to keeper of power. She has to keep those in Toriel’s favor happy, even if they’re intentions are unjust. This has lowered popular opinion of her quite a bit, and many regard her as merely a lapdog with a hammer. It gnaws at her, as she still has a profound loyalty to her people, and when she can she’ll often try to get around her orders, but in general she tends to lock herself away to hide from the shame.

Muffet is not quite the powerhouse in Snowdin as Fellby is in his version, given that she prefers to keep to herself. Still, her bar is a well known front for most of the dirty deeds done in the region. She’ll keep your secrets, for a price, and has her fingers in the pies of pretty much everything going on Underground. She’s not as cold-blooded as she’d like to appear. Ultimately if you’re down on your luck she simply sends you on your way and doesn’t bother with you. But never, EVER, cut her out of a deal. Her pet is a hungry beast.

The bros I’ve gone into lengthy detail elsewhere, so I won’t deal with it much here, but they work in alliance with Muffet and try to keep their fingers on the pulse of the town.

Asgore left Toriel once he began to understand that her newfound hobby of pitting their people against each other wasn’t going to change. He had no larger goal in mind. His mind and heart were tired, and he simply wanted to spend his days in peace, nurturing his flowers and speaking to no one as he lived with his grief. However, the monsters of the Ruins have grown wicked with their years of isolation, and he is forced to resort to brutal techniques to stay alive. His trident is never far from him, and as we all know, daffodils can be highly toxic when pushed down one’s throat. Always keep an eye on his tea.

The Swapfell monsters are hands down the hardest to redeem out of the main four aus, but like Fell they have their softer points. In a world predicated on relationships most of them are naturally inclined to quite a bit of loyalty. Friendship is a risky business, but almost all of them have a person they would sacrifice anything for without question. For the bros its each other. For Alphys, Undyne. For Grillby, Fuku. You see how it goes. Getting in good with one will ensure that the other is more likely to go easier on you. They also have an inherent respect for craftiness. Where Underfell monsters will mock and despise you for dodging attacks and running away, Swapfell monsters have an appreciation for a tactical retreat and may even praise you for avoiding getting a scratch on you the entire battle. Ultimately, they’re all tired of this long dark period, and would welcome the opportunity for peace, for no longer looking over their shoulder. The Human only has to convince them to admit that to themselves.

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soulstealer1987 · 6 years

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Interlude: Karliah

Ziist Grozein

Gallus isn't quite dead—not yet, anyway. And if a certain someone has any say in the matter, he won't be dying here.

Crossposted from AO3. Masterpost is here.

Arc 4, Chapter 10 ~ Arc 5, Chapter 1

Biting her lip is all Karliah can do to keep herself from crying out when Mercer strikes, and she certainly wants to. But she can’t cry out, she can’t attack. The only thing she can do, now, is to remain silent and unnoticed. Otherwise, Mercer will discover she hasn’t actually left, and will strike her down on the spot. And then, where will Gallus be?

Dead, her thoughts whisper, and she can’t let that happen. Not again. So, she clamps both her hands over her mouth and leans against a nearby pillar for support. Her eyes begin to swim with tears that she doesn’t dare shed. She watches as Mercer stands, satisfied, and steps gingerly out of the slowly-growing pool of blood beneath him, beneath Gallus. Gallus, who couldn’t fight back if he tried at this point. Gallus, who might already be…

Dead, her thoughts whisper, but she has to believe that this will work. She has to believe that this will buy her enough time to save him. Her poison was designed to paralyze, yes, but it does so—well, did so, that was the last dose—by slowing the heart. The pool of blood—Gallus’ blood—is growing, yes, but not as fast as it could be. And it’s a somewhat good sign that it is still growing, contradictory as that might seem, because that means his heart’s still beating.

That, or she’s just telling herself that.

Karliah grits her teeth. By Nocturnal, she has to hope there’s at least some luck left for them. She can’t watch him die again. So, with that in mind, she returns her attention to Mercer, the murderer. Mercer, who briefly considers taking Gallus’ sword as a trophy, but evidently decides otherwise. Which is good, because if—no, when—he gets better, he’ll need his sword.

Mercer silently creeps up the steps and heads for the exit. He does a strange sort of gesture with his hand as he heads out, and the gate slams shut behind him. Likely something involving the Skeleton Key, but that’s not important. The important part is, Mercer is out and he clearly doesn’t intend on coming back anytime soon.

(In any case, he hadn’t been completely fooled by Karliah’s ruse, he had suspected she’d come back because he’d made it difficult for her to slip back in the way she’d supposedly left. What he hadn’t suspected, with any luck, was that she had, in fact, never actually left. But she’ll still need to be careful. She can’t risk screwing this up further.)

Karliah takes her chance, and runs for Gallus. She kneels beside him, doing her best to ignore the blood, and leans in across his prone form. Karliah presses her cheek to his, listening for something, anything. She could have cried from the sheer weight of her relief when his breath, although far too faint, was still there. He’s still breathing. He’s still alive.

He’s still breathing, thank the shadows, and Karliah wastes no time in going for her bag. She’s so, so glad that she’d had the foresight to have first aid supplies ready for if things went horribly wrong. She’ll likely need all of them in the near future.

“It’ll be okay, Gallus,” she whispers. He can’t hear her, but that isn’t about to stop her. “I’m here. And I—” Karliah’s voice cracks, and she has to swallow the knot in her throat. “I won’t let you die. Not again.”

He’s badly injured on several accounts, but the most pressing matter at the moment is where Mercer stabbed him. Karliah doesn’t consider herself to be much of a healer, but she is an alchemist, and she supposes she does know more than most. It’s been years, decades even since she’s had to perform first aid on anyone besides herself—twenty-five years, to be exact—but it doesn’t take much for her to fall back into the practiced motions of undoing a strap here and a buckle there.

It doesn’t seem so long ago since the last time she’d had to do this, nor so different. Except that Gallus’ armor as well as her own had been the darker leathers of senior thieves, and he hadn’t been anywhere near as close to death. He hadn’t even been unconscious, and he’d kept making her laugh with his dumb jokes and goofy grins.

She isn’t laughing now. Karliah’s already lost him once, and spent the next couple decades and then some regretting everything that led up to the end. The last thing she wants is to lose him again, and it’s with that in mind that she hastily empties about half of one bottle of healing potion on a folded bandage and presses it onto his stab wound before bandaging it up. Her potion—blue mountain flower and wheat, if she remembers correctly—is unfortunately much less effective this way, but it’ll be enough to keep him alive for now. Even so, Karliah frowns, makes a mental note to get his armor washed and patched up at some point or another, and moves on to the arrow sticking through his leg.

Her arrow. Not for the first time, and not for the last, she’s extremely relieved that she hadn’t shot to kill but to injure. Had she not intended to take Mercer alive, Gallus would be dead now, and it would have been her doing. Karliah unconsciously winces as she examines it. She hadn’t meant for the arrow to go all the way through, but the good news is, it’ll be easy to cut out.

The bad news is, there’s going to be a lot of blood going everywhere even with her poison slowing things down. She’ll need to patch both sides up quickly.

Karliah takes a deep breath to brace herself, pulls out her dagger, and lops off the arrowhead as close as she can. That’s unfortunately the easy part.Then, she makes sure she has everything ready to do this quick, and sucks in another breath as she pulls the rest of the arrow out. It’s for the best that Gallus isn’t awake for this—she knows from experience that it hurts. It also bleeds a lot, which is why Karliah rips a bandage in two, drenches them in potion, and packs both sides of his wound before wrapping it as tightly as she dares.

Once she’s reasonably certain that he won’t be bleeding out on her, Karliah takes a moment to survey her work. Gallus isn’t in the best shape, but once he wakes up—because he will wake up, she has to believe that—they can figure things out from there.

He’ll want answers. Anyone would, in these circumstances. It’s the right thing to do here, without a doubt, and yet Karliah finds herself dreading that conversation.

Even so, it’s a conversation they have to have sooner rather than later, and if they’d had it sooner, Gallus wouldn’t be here on death’s doorstep. Karliah had convinced herself to tell him not too long ago, only to find that she was too late and he was already well on his way to Riften. She could have caught up with him, but she hadn’t tried. Instead, she had written a note that, clearly, hadn’t done any good.

Karliah could have warned him exactly who to be wary of. She could have told him everything--but she’d trusted that he’d be fine on his own. He would have been fine on his own, if he had known. But he hadn’t, and because of that… because of her…

She shifts her position some, cradles Gallus’ head in her lap. Silently, she brushes his bangs out of his face, traces a single finger along his jawline, blinks back her tears. He’s got his hair tied back in that way he always does, always had, except for his bangs. He’d always said he liked having his bangs a little shorter than the rest of his hair, always thought it made him look more dashing, like the roguish heroes in children’s stories. He was right.

He was right about everything, just like he always was. For a few moments, with him lying there in her arms, Karliah can almost pretend that nothing’s changed at all. That they’re home, in Riften. That he’s still the Guildmaster of the Thieves Guild, and she hasn’t been exiled for his murder. But his breathing is a little too shallow, and his features are a little too pale, and that’s his blood still drying on the ground.

Karliah doesn’t want to have this conversation. She doesn’t want to have to tell him how everything went wrong, but… he needs to know. For once, he’s not the one with all the answers, and her lips almost quirk up in a grin at the sheer irony. It’s only almost, however, because while Karliah has more of the answers than him at this point, she suspects that he’s just as clueless as she is with respect to certain questions.

“How are you alive?” Karliah whispers, even though he can’t hear her, and even if he could he wouldn’t know the answer.

If Enthir is to be believed—and Karliah is long beyond doubting him at this point—Gallus didn’t know anything except his own name early on. He definitely wouldn’t know how he’s here now. But that’s alright. They can figure that out. Gallus is alive, and he’s going to stay that way. Mercer will certainly be in for a nasty surprise when the time comes. Gallus just has to wake up first.

Silently, almost hesitantly, Karliah plants a kiss on his forehead, tucks a stray strand of hair behind his ear, and whispers, “You’ll be okay.” She desperately hopes it’s the truth.

#ziist grozein #zg update #skyrim #skyrim fanfiction #skyrim fanfic #elder scrolls #elder scrolls fanfiction #elder scrolls fanfic #fanfiction #writing #gallus desidenius #karliah #mercer frey #speaking with silence #snow veil sanctum #thieves guild

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friendshipcampaign · 6 years

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Session Recap 6/2/18: “Let Us See, Then, What Thereat Is”

The party awoke from their much-needed rest to the remaining Caftner, a little more sluggish now, milling about -- as well as once skeleton that had survived the battle and that now, without the influence of the Morkoth, was behaving harmlessly and waved at them. Kriv wearily told everyone else “Well, I’m ready to leave” -- which spurred a stronger “Yeah, let’s get the fuck out of here,” from Amaranth.

Voski informed everyone else of Zikt’s request that the Cafter exoskeletons could again have a final resting place, and they discussed the best place to take them. Eventually, it was agreed that they would lead the Caftner back to the chamber where they had originally been found. Voski again tapped into the properties of the demiplane to rebuild their bridge and give them a way out of the chamber. To get the aimless Caftner to follow them, Erwyn cast Dancing Lights, trying his best to fashion them into the shape of another Caftner as opposed to a humanoid one and get them to follow him. It proved enough to lead them out.

The three who had been to the chamber before then pictured it in their minds as best they could, making the stone around them form tunnels that would take them to the room where the Caftner had been laid to rest. On reaching the mausoleum, Erwyn looked around at the strange writing that encircled the room, eyes wide, and jotted some of them down in his notebook. Some of the more damaged Caftner, that hadn’t been fit for battle, were still wandering around on the leafy floor. The others didn’t take long in joining them.

Ditto managed to put her own inscription into the wall, one that read “Here lie the Caftner. Five of us passed through here. We didn’t know them, but they came to our help, and we are very grateful.” Beneath it, Voski made a little mural of a bunch of them beating up the Morkoth. For a very brief moment, Zikt’s shape rematerialized in the room, just long enough to use their mental communication abilities to thank each of them in turn.

Ready to leave the caves below the demiplane, the party directed their next tunnels towards the nearest entrance, which had a sheer drop above them to lead them to the door. In a moment of invention, Voski suggested to the others trying to make a moving platform up in much the same way they’d moved the bridge. With everyone (except, again, for Erwyn) making the push, the idea was successful. She idly played some music on her still-soggy lute on the way up.

This was a different door than they had entered through, so it was still shut. Kriv and Voski were only mildly successful in getting it to move at all, so Ditto tried casting Levitate on it, allowing the paladin to push it open. They emerged in a muggy, ruinous environment, with crumbling infrastructure that had clearly just been placed there for enrichment purposes. Voski said she wasn’t at all interested in investigating the area (though Erwyn, when she said this, looked slightly disappointed) and contacted Auntie, letting her know where they were and that they’d like to travel across the coastline. She was told that could be arranged, but they would, however, need to travel through this section fully.

Erwyn was trailing behind by quite a lot as they walked, and Ditto made an effort to stay relatively close to him, which meant that when a very large bird, resembling the cockatrices but much larger, came up behind the party, it was able to envelop them both in its feathers. It let out a very loud noise, alerting the others, but the two of them were already trapped behind its wings -- eliciting a very resigned “C’mon!” from Kriv.

Voski Messaged Erwyn to try to ask if he was alright, which he confirmed, and then described the bird to him, asking if he had any idea what it was. He didn’t, in part due to receiving a very vague description. Ditto tried to worm out of its grip, but it successfully pushed her back inside. Kriv shouted at Erwyn to ask if he could talk to it, but he cast Speak With Animals to no avail. However, at the same time he cast the spell, a large raven appeared on his shoulder, stared him in the eyes, and cried out “The visions that your mother saw were not misplaced. You are destined for greatness, but whether great heroism or great destruction remains to be seen.”

With everyone else baffled as to where the noise had come from (Erwyn only offered “There are more birds,” sounding somewhat distraught), Voski contacted Auntie again, asking her what the big bird’s name was. She was told her name was Doomhackle, and that the best way to deal with her would be to tell her who was boss. She closed the conversation off by asking if Doomhackle talked, but was puzzled to learn the answer was no.

Stepping back, Voski stared the bird down and said, in a perfect imitation of Auntie Eyren’s voice “Doomhackle! Those aren’t yours. Get off of them!” before proceeding to make identical chicken noises to the ones the bird had been making right back at her. She had to keep up the scolding voice for a bit, but eventually it was enough to get the broody creature to let Erwyn and Ditto go -- after which the raven on Erwyn’s shoulder swooped away dramatically. Doomhackle kept trying to preen their hair (Ditto shuffled away, but Erwyn seemed like he was dead to the world), and Voski had to chastise the bird more to get her to finally back off.

They started moving again, with Doomhackle needing to be pushed back because she now wanted to follow Voski, but it wasn’t long before Erwyn, who was now just staring into space instead of watching his feet, tripped over a rock. He landed flat in the dirt and Kriv had to help him up. Doomhackle, too, was still trailing behind them, which meant that Voski kept having to turn around and make disapproving bird noises at her. One time while she did this, Ditto briefly Minor Illusion-ed some feathers on the back of her head, which Tiktik found very amusing.

No further incidents occurred as they passed into the next piece of territory, which was coastal as promised, or, in fact, in the next several that they passed through. The most eventful sights were some large aquatic reptiles in the nearby ocean, and some strange birds flying out to sea. It was only when the party reach the last section before Auntie’s place, the same one where they had spotted the hyper-realistic statues and strange spots in the rock before, that anything of note occurred -- a young medusa jumping out and yelling “Beware adventurers! I’m gonna turn you all to stone!”

Her apparent caretaker -- a creature with a mole-like face atop a body that appeared to be made of stone -- scolded her, saying “That’s not how we talk to strangers” while simultaneously keeping his hands over her eyes. He then tiredly apologized to the party while she kept yelling, demanding that they give her treasure for her hoard to keep from being turned into statues. Voski handed her the leftover jelly beholders Ditto had left in her bag, “as tribute,” which seemed to satisfy her. Her caretaker asked if they were friends of Auntie’s, explaining when they replied that he, at least, tended to be fairly wary of people in their sort of attire. He asked them to pass on their greetings to Auntie Eyren, giving his name as Moggy and his charge’s as Malevolina. When the party began to leave, Voski turned to the tiny medusa girl and said “Thanks for sparing us your wrath!” As they walked away, the child could be heard saying “‘Wrath’ is a good word, I should use it more often.”

The rest of the trip to Auntie Eyren’s home was short, and it wasn’t long before they arrived at the large circular hedge, the Inevitable still moping about outside. Having already been told they’d completed their mission by Voski, Auntie greeted them enthusiastically and almost immediately asked if she could make them dinner in her cauldron again, having set out some delicate little rolled cookies she claimed had been all the rage last time she spent much time on the Material Plane, though that was some time ago. Kriv informed her he wanted to have a dish he’d tried in Balinvyá shortly before boarding the Kraken’s Beak -- fried squid. Amaranth gleefully requested the same. Voski and Ditto both asked for meals as well -- the latter, whose appetite was usually at least a little more proportional to her size, eating as much as a human -- but Erwyn still seemed to be lost in thought and she had to wave a hand in front of his face to even get his attention. After a bit of prodding she made him the same Elvish meal he’d asked for the other night, though she did keep having to tap him on the shoulder to keep him eating when his attention kept wandering off to nowhere in particular.

The party then asked the hag about some of the magic items they’d picked up. She informed them that the two potions they’d found were a Potion of Hill Giant Strength and a Philter of Love respectively (though she seemed very disdainful of the second one). She was less confident about identifying the odd disc with the crystal inside, warning that confirming her suspicion would be difficult and painful, but said she thought it might be a bionid eye -- a seed which could hatch a seemingly-engineered mantis-like warrior if someone were tempted to touch the gem in the middle, bonding with them in a way that wouldn’t go very well for the victim.

When Ditto asked what needed to be done with the fragment of the demiplane’s heart they’d contained, Auntie told the party that, if they wanted it, they could keep it. Explaining that it could be bound to a person, place, or thing, via a not impossibly complicated process, it would allow the party to have their own, albeit small, demiplane that would grow from the fragment. Curious in learning the process, Ditto watched intently while the hag scribed the instructions down.

The wizard also mentioned her strange beholder dreams to Auntie Eyren, wondering if maybe she had any better idea of what was going on with her strange beholder dreams. The hag appeared thoughtful and went to make them both tea, offering Ditto a mug that was the size of the gnome’s head. She asked her if the dreams felt like memories. She replied that she was unsure, only that she had some idea what was causing them -- having breathed in the spores around the eye stalk she’d come across in Soreth. She asked Erwyn for confirmation and while he was still very distant, after a bit of trying to get his attention he admitted he didn’t know much about spores, just people who’d come across dead beholders having reported similar experiences. Auntie explained it was very good that Kriv had healed Ditto, when told about the incident, because such spores could be deadly if left unchecked.

When Ditto explained what the beholder in her dreams looked like (courtesy of the tiny singing copies that surround it) -- leathery reddish-purple skin, slitted pupils, and anglerfish-like teeth -- Auntie commented that it might just be a really weird beholder. Mostly because of the singing. This case did seem a little odd. She admitted, however, that dreams weren’t entirely in her wheelhouse, and Ditto might do better to talk to her sister, who was a night hag, and wrote her a letter that should convince her to talk to them should they ever be able to come across her. She also offered for the Baku to try eating her nightmares that evening.

Back on the subject of things they’d found in the Morkoth’s lair, Amaranth pulled out the magical dagger Erwyn had handed her and asked if she knew anything about it. Auntie admitted to not knowing much about weapons -- which also meant she wasn’t able to give Erwyn much information on the arrow that he’d found -- and couldn’t help much there. When Erwyn pulled out the Abyssal scroll, saying he intended to translate it later but would appreciate a second opinion, she was surprised by the fact that he’d implied he would be able to read it. But she offered to help him work on the translation, and went about setting some wards, just in case. She said that something about the black scroll felt familiar, but she couldn’t really place it, before turning to Erwyn and saying “‘Kay, kid, you ready?”

It was only a few minutes into trying to read the scroll that Erwyn’s nose started bleeding profusely. When asked if he was alright, he said this wasn’t the first time Abyssal had done this to him, but that he’d like to continue working on it, so the hag went to grab him a handkerchief. As they worked, he continued to bleed significantly enough that Kriv had to dip into his healing supplies and keep handing Erwyn gauze as the elf developed a worse and worse headache and started to sway significantly.

The scroll seemed to be a sort of a profile of a specific layer of the Abyss, for whatever measure the Abyss actually had real layers. Whenever Erwyn tried to read the number, his head would hurt and swim even more, never quite bringing it into focus. It made vague attempts at taxonomy of largely less-powerful demons, but again, when dealing with that degree of chaos there was a lot of ambiguity. While they worked, Ditto turned Tiktik into a cat to cuddle with them and Voski sort of browsed the room. When the translation work was over, Amaranth put a hand on Erwyn’s shoulder and asked if he needed to lie down. Which he did immediately.

While Auntie Eyren shuffled around undoing the sigils, Voski asked Erwyn what they’d learned. He described it as a sort of field guide, but when she asked if he really wanted to hang onto it, gesturing to his position on the floor, he maintained that he did, on the chance that this sort of knowledge was hard to come by. Amaranth commented that he wouldn’t have to read it again to get the knowledge, but Erwyn somewhat sadly said that no, usually for knowledge to be of use to him he would have to read it quite a few times.

Finally, Voski asked about the gauntlet she’d found -- not that it had registered as magical, but because she wanted to make sure it was safe. There didn’t seem to be anything worrying about it, but Auntie did describe it as “good for punching someone at a fancy shindig.”

Auntie Eyren helped Erwyn up off the floor, somewhat nervously hovering over him as everyone got ready to wind down for the night. On her lawn as the party started settling in, Voski sat down to restring her water-damaged lute with the arcane strings she’d picked up at the Goblin Market. Ditto was excitedly writing in the Tome of Mynskay about all their necromantic encounters when Kriv wandered over to Amaranth and handed her the Potion of Hill Giant Strength, recognizing that she was the party member who would probably need it most. The Baku was lead out to help Ditto, and Amaranth excitedly greeted the creature as it trundled over. It waved its trunk in return.

In the morning, Kriv got up to talk to Auntie a little early, while Erwyn was the only other person up, asking if there was some way out of the demiplane other than using the lake. He was disappointed to learn she didn’t think there was. Once the whole party was awake, she made them all breakfast in the cauldron again. As they headed out, Erwyn sheepishly mentioned that he didn’t have any water-breathing lozenges left, having used both his the two times he had to face the Morkoth. Kriv offered him one of the two extras he had, originally reserved for Volfred.

Voski asked Auntie Eyren what the cause of a breach like the one that they’d seen in the demiplane could be on a place like the Material Plane and was told that they generally occurred in places with high concentrations of magic, especially written magic, as well as places with a strong emotional history. When Erwyn asked her if it would be possible to tune into something like that, sensing them the same way he’d picked up on the disturbance in the caves, she answered that it probably would -- though was surprised to learn that Erwyn had the ability in the first place. Voski also asked if they could get some sort of confirmation from her that they’d returned the favor they’d been sent to, and when Auntie agreed, drew up a contract for her to sign.

As the party was leaving, Ditto flew over and hugged the hag tightly, saying “Can I just say that I am so glad we met you? You are, like, so cool!” The hug was returned as gently as Auntie Eyren could manage (which wasn’t the gentlest). The party waded out into the middle of the pond as she watched, putting the water breathing lozenges in their mouths. Erwyn reached out the pat the giant frogs, which croaked at him.

They swam upwards and back on the Material Plane, emerging to see the sun higher in the sky than it had been on the other side. It appeared to be more like mid-day than early in the morning. Gilly greeted the party, asking how their trip was. They gave mixed responses. Erwyn asked her how many times the sun had passed by, and Gilly told them it had been about seven, meaning that time must have passed faster outside of the demiplane than in it. As the party debated exactly how long, Gilly commented “You all count so many things. Do you enjoy it?” Voski started to say something, but Kriv cut her off with a quick “No” and Gilly high-fived him. As they headed off, Amaranth turned around and winked at Gilly, who guffawed and winked back.

Deciding they wanted to head back to Folly’s End and see if there was any new information from the kobolds, or if Krys was back from talking to colleagues at the learnstead, the party planned to again spend the night in Little Haven and hopefully make there by the next evening. Kriv cast Aid on Erwyn, Amaranth, and Ditto again, and they set off. Lurking shadows darted along the sides of the path, but none made moves to attack them in the sunlight.

Once in Little Haven they stopped at the general store, where a few party members picked up rations, Ditto got more incense for spellcasting, and Kriv stocked up on supplies for his healer’s kit. When he stepped up to pay, the shopkeeper, a middle-aged half-elven man, asked if Kriv knew medicine, and when he answered affirmatively was informed that Mella (the innkeeper’s wife) and her baby had both fallen ill, and the whole town was worried. He suggested they head over there and see if anything could be done.

The inn proved more somber than the last time they’d been there. Elberth waved half-heartedly at Ditto as they entered, and agreed to take them back to the family’s living space when they explained why they were there. Bez seemed hopeful when told Kriv was there to help. The paladin cast Detect Poison and Disease in the room, picking up on a magical ailment that was affecting the mother and baby. He asked how long they’d been ill for and was told it had been the better part of the week, though for the first few days the ailment would fade as the day went on, only to return in force the next morning.

Krive decided to try casting Lesser Restoration on the baby and, while she had been quiet and listless until that moment, as soon as the spell took hold, she took on more color and started loudly screaming. Everyone was relieved. He apologetically told Mella that he’d only been able to cast a spell that powerful once more today, so she might have to try to hang on until tomorrow. Voski offered to try casting Dispel Magic, but it had no effect. Fortunately, as Kriv went to try to at least bolster her with Lay on Hands, he recalled that if needed, the same ability could be used to cure disease or poisoning. It was successful, and both mother and baby seemed to be doing fine.

Bez gratefully told the party they would have free food and lodging for the night, and asked Kriv to what deity they over the favor. When he replied that he served Bahamut, the man had a momentary look of concern cross his face until Elberth pulled him down and whispered in his ear, correcting the mix-up. Kriv pulled out his holy symbol to reassure him.

Ditto pointed out that since whatever was causing the illness seemed to have been happening at night, it might be wise to set up watched and ensure it didn’t occur again that evening. The family and the others agreed to the idea -- through Kriv explicitly stated that if watches were going to be taken alone, he wanted to be alerted to whatever they found immediately, before things could go too far south. As the party headed out towards the main area of the inn, Erwyn pulled everyone aside and cautiously pointed out that inexplicable, magical diseases were one of the things that could herald a breach from the Abyss growing, and given that they already knew of a demon in the area, it might be worth considering. Everyone else, however, was more skeptical, and ultimately even he admitted it was just a hypothesis. Ditto teased Kriv, saying “Hey, looks like someone’s a hero!” -- to which he replied “Slow down.”

Kriv took the first watch, where he didn’t notice anything, but Voski was up second and shortly after Bez had to take the baby outside of the room due to her fussing, she noticed the lantern in the bedroom dimming before snuffing completely out. She cast Message up at Kriv immediately, letting him know what had happened, and he woke the others to lead them downstairs. He used his Divine Sense as they approached the room, picking up on some kind of undead presence. Still in the room, Voski tried casting Dispel Magic to see if it would do anything, but it had no effect. She then cast Dancing Lights to try to get a better look, and saw a small humanoid creature with spiky teeth that screamed loudly at her, temporarily stunning both her and everyone approaching from outside the room that could hear it. She caught only a glimpse of the tiny figure dashing out into the woods.

When Voski described the creature to the others, Ditto recalled a kind of undead that the Tome of Mynskay had described to her, formed from the spirits of abandoned children that were, in a twisted way, looking for homes. They were known to afflict young mothers and children, and the only real way for someone to deal with one without killing it would be to offer it the sense of belonging that it was searching for. This left everyone at a bit of a loss, because no one seemed to think they were in a good position to do that. But ultimately, with the creature vanished into the forest, the best they could do was to deal with it in the morning, and Ditto offered to put up some of the wards against undead that the Tome had taught her.

#session recap

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dandelions-sea-blog · 6 years

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Sushi Chop Suey Chapter Seven

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Cringe finds a new place And meets some more people

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Sounds can be heard up a head for several tail-lengths before they actually find the room.

The noises coming from this unknown place are ones that Cringe is familiar with from his infancy - a nursery! Though his clan was nomadic, when it was time to settle down with new children they would often pick a coral reef in warm water and find a safe place for all of the mothers to rest while they hatch and birth. This place seems to be no different, with a spot for the expecting in front and those nursing and lying with their mates and new children in back.

It is a rather nice location, tall ceilings for the youngest to learn to swim, no harsh or sharp edges; there is even a hot spring denoted by boiling bubbles in back, giving the entire cavern a comfortable temperature. It isn’t too far off from what his clan would pick at all.

The room sparks with laughter when Vermilion brings in the soon-to-be mother; the first image everyone gets of Cringe is a frustrated and disgruntled glare at nothing desirable, as if he is fresh out of a fight with his mate. He drops the expression and flushes quickly, startled at the room’s reaction. He mostly receives sympathetic stares and understanding snickers; they all at least know what it is like to be carrying your first clutch. There is no one way to pinpoint the women, but the word submissive is entirely absent from his mind. No one is small like him, they’re all whales in comparison (or, perhaps, he would be a guppy), but the monsters’ top halves vary widely. While he had come to understand that there are more types of mers than just skeletons from interactions with other tribes his passed on occasion, it was strange to see them all mingled in one place. Shouldn’t a tribe have just one type? Surely all these different mers couldn’t just live together, right??

He feels entirely self conscious when the other expecting mothers carry 5 to 7 eggs, and he chances a look down at himself to see the 2 remaining. It was... abnormal, then, to have such a small clutch. Well, the asshole still carrying him should have considered that when he stole Cringe from the ocean’s floor. Vermilion seems jovial, uncaring or oblivious to any flaws his chosen mate might have and chirping to the women as he settles a place for Cringe among them. The cushion for Cringe is significantly smaller, as if meant for a child of their kind, but it fits him perfectly - which just serves to annoy him far more than it should.

The women positively coo over Cringe, one rubbing his skull softly as another gently pats his stomach, feeling the eggs inside. He bristles at the sudden touching, withstanding it for only a moment before slinking his way back towards Vermilion without realizing it. It wasn’t his intention to hide behind the mer that so boldly claimed him as a mate, and yet he is the only familiar creature in the room so it is exactly what he does.

That doesn’t mean Cringe has to like it.

The mer rubs his face and presses his teeth to his skull in a chaste kiss before settling Cringe back on his cushion and sighing apologetically to the ladies. They simply giggle, forgiving the faux pas. Cringe lets out a noise of displeasure as Vermilion pulls back to leave, staring after him helplessly as he swims off.

A pang hits his chest. He watches his claimed-mate’s tail disappear into the caves, leaving him alone in the unknown. It’s far too familiar - the sorrowful ache, the dread that he’s already forgotten. It makes his soul race and he sucks in through his gills harshly to forget these feelings. Not far behind is the rush of panic that one of the unfamiliar mers might have caught him grieving; he checks his tail out of force of habit to make sure that his fins haven’t started to droop with emotion, then remembers that they no longer exist to give away his mood. He lets his shoulders fall and just stares after the hole where his not-mate left.

Once Vermilion has gone, the ladies all settle into a lounging position that appears far more comfortable on their rounded bellies than the upright and alert positions of greeting they offered their guest. Cringe flinches, looking back in confusion as one of the mers who touched his belly before brushes his spine with a fin. She stares back, seeming just as confused by the little mer’s response. Everyone is so... touchy in this clan. At home such a gesture would be considered rude and condescending. Though perhaps that’s just how it is here, mers touch and be touched casually; they mean no offence by it. He lets the thought sink in for a moment as he watches the offending mer for a response. She lets out a calming, apologetic trill in response. It seems she accepts that touch was not the way to interact with this foreign mer. He nods in response, showing calculated appreciation for her restraint as he relaxes some…

They all seem so fascinated by him - particularly his size. Several women approached with deep concern, not realizing that the newly mated and soon-to-be-mother was in fact a fully grown adult and not a traumatized, orphaned child. More than once Cringe had to open his mouth to show them his fully-grown set of teeth; thankfully the amount of teeth that a mer-adult has is fairly universal, so the message got across with the concerned mothers blushing and swimming away embarrassed. After the first few times it went from ignorable to irritating - does he really look that much like a child to these people!?

His ego bruised a bit more than he’d like to admit, Cringe curls around his middle. The mate of the lowest creature in the clan - maimed and too small to hold more than two children in his womb… Cringe hasn’t felt a blow to his pride this bad before in his life.

Then again, the women here didn’t react negatively to his mate at all… they seemed almost friendly with him. If this were Cringe’s clan and the lowest mer tried to get within even a foot of the carrying he would be beaten until he could hardly crawl away. Perhaps this clan is different in their handling of class; however Cringe, despite witnessing this clan’s actions, still finds it hard to believe that such strange merpeople can exist.

Cringe’s drooping must have caught the attention of one of the caretakers here, because he feels a strong ‘woosh’ of water trill by him as two muscular, silky arms drop a load of sea-fruits by his head. Cringe’s neck snaps up fast to face the largest mer he has seen in his life - and in the past 4 hours he has seen some very large mers. The mer doesn’t look entirely unfriendly, smiling softly as his beard floats behind him in the water. He, much like the other hunter and fighter mers, bares scars down his body, from his face to his chest and down to his tail. A pair of horns jut from his maine, marking him as a Boss Mer - one of the most powerful and deadly mer.

Cringes eyes widen as he quickly makes himself small (something that is disgracefully easy for him) in a show of respect for the obviously superior mer. The larger just chuckles, shaking his head and pushing forward the food. It dawns on Cringe that he must be the guardian of the nursery - it would make sense, with the flecks of grey marking his beard and the dullness seeping its way through his scales. He is nearing the end of his life - though Cringe imagines it was a long and adventurous one.

Elders are yet another subject Cringe has little knowledge on; the old in his clan were destined to die once as they are unable to contribute to the school. That is, if one made it to such an age before they either took ill, or were eaten, or got trapped, or separated… really, there were a lot of ways to die when your clan is moving around every few weeks. For this man to be as old as he looks, he must be not only powerful, but very well loved to be given a place in their society even as his use dwindles.

Cringe decides that befriending such a man would be wise and propels himself upward with a bone, gliding to a ledge to be closer to eyeline with the giant mer. The man seems both greatly amused and impressed by Cringe’s effort, and the smaller chooses to be flattered rather than offended by the slight chuckle of a response.

He carefully draws at his magic, mindful of the eggs. He has already used a bit too much magic today, and while before such an action would hardly phase him, the babies do not seem very fond of him exerting himself in any way. The Boss-Mer watches him with a similarly wary expression as he lifts up the fruits with his magic to his new perch and peels them with skilled fingers. Ignoring the pain in his tail he shifts it infront of him to sit casually as he prepares every single pod that had been put before him. He is more thankful now for his mother than ever before - she had insisted he learn to shell pods even as he bid to be a hunter like the clan’s strongest. The skill, once put before him, had to be mastered, as Cringe is not satisfied with a half-perfected talent. Even though he thought it to be a waste of his time then, the look that the boss-mer gives him when he sees Cringe go through the pile of eight in less than a dozen breaths makes it all worth it.

He beams with pride as he hands over a shelled fruit to the huge merperson, letting him sample Cringe’s work. He thanks his mother internally for sitting him down for all that time when he was so young. His hands subconsciously wrap around his small bulge of a stomach as the mixed emotions play out in his mind.

The boss-mer is obviously impressed with Cringe, swimming off and returning with a handful of pods for Cringe to work with - which, considering it is his handful, is quite a bit. Cringe smiles, relaxing some. A task… something to occupy his time with that isn’t sitting around being an incubator! He quickly gets to work, keeping his pile of fruits off to the side so that he can snack on them as he carefully peels and prepares each stalk. There isn’t a plant given to him that he doesn’t recognize, having traveled so much in his life.

He gets into a rhythm and quickly loses track of his thoughts. His mind wanders back to his mother; the food lessons, he realizes, weren’t just lessons. They spent a lot of time together picking seaweed and deboning fish. It was… pleasant. He was glad that he got to know her so well. His mind jumps forward to his own babies - will they want to learn to prepare food, or will they be out with their father doing… whatever it is Vermilion does when he isn’t near Cringe…

Huh… it’s funny, Cringe never really thought about what role his captor has in his school, other than ‘subordinate’. He supposes that the mer may be good at medicine, perhaps a student or co-apprentice of the Undyne mer; it would explain how he was able to heal Cringe so well. Though he hasn’t actually seen Vermilion do any kind of medicine work. There were also his hunting or fighting abilities that Cringe hasn’t yet had a chance to gage; perhaps he is strong. Perhaps he is one of the hunters - like the ones that Cringe saw take down the porpoises - taking leave so he can mate? Or maybe he’s a guard of some sort?

He’ll have to find a way to sneak out and follow him one day now that Cringe is starting to build a mental map of the cave system.

In his thoughts Cringe failed to notice the pair of eyes watching him until he happened to turn his head just right to see them staring right at him. The little red dots are just startling enough to make him jump and throw the pods that he had been peeling up with his tail. He fums as the child snickers, despritely trying to snatch up the pods before they fell out of range of his arms. Cringe really doesn’t have the strength to go chasing after them and get back onto his tall rock.

And he really happens to like being up here. It makes him feel big.

The little brat swims after the fallen food as soon as they get over their fit of giggles. They swim back to him and drop the load off to the side. Cringe nods his thanks, peeling off another stalk to get started on. The mer sits next to him, tail curled up under them. They are a human-type mer, with mostly humanoid features, save for their unnaturally red eyes. Cringe met a pack of those living in the more temperate regions in the north; they happen to be rather weather sensitive when it comes to the cold. Honestly, he’s surprised that even this moderate temperature isn’t too cold for them.

They seem to be just at the age where they should be leaving the nursery; however it isn’t too odd to see them here yet. Cringe imagines they are probably taking on their first duties, whatever that may be, and returning to the nursery at night. That is, if they can survive that long away from the heated pools in back.

He doesn’t pay the child much mind until they reach their greedy little fingers towards his finished pile. While cringe’s overall speed may have been damaged by his injury, he can still move his arms just as fast as ever, and he doesn’t hesitate to dart a hand out and slap the creature’s wrist. No. Bad. Children do not just take what isn’t given to them.

The human-mer seems genuinely offended by this, clutching their wrist and frowning. Cringe simply raises a brow, looking amused. Pouting won’t work on him - he had too many sisters, both younger and older. When they realize their attempts are in vein they simply lay on their stomach and moan, sounding defeated. Cringe rolls his eyes and reaches his hand over to his own pile of fruits. There is plenty of food that he doesn’t have to worry about being left out of the lottery anytime soon, and these are probably meant to be dinner for the children here anyways. He scoops up one of the smaller pods and breaks in half, keeping one in his lap for himself while offering the other out to the kid.

They perk up, reaching for it a little too quickly for Cringe’s liking, and he holds it back until they politely request the food. They take it and sit on their tail, munching on it contently as they watch Cringe with curious eyes. They stare at his tail long enough for him to become self conscious, sitting up a bit straighter and making noises to take their attention back up to his face. To be fair, had he seen a mer as injured as he is when he was that young he would likely stare too…

Either way, he doesn’t like the way the look at him. He flicks his wrist, shoving them away with blue magic before doubling over in a cramp. The eggs have had enough of his tomfuckary for one day, and after all his moving around and flippant magic use they demand rest. When his abdomen settles he lays out on his back. He had shelled pretty much all of the plants, Cringe decided he deserves a rest. After all, it seems that the majority of mothers here have decided that it is time for a nap. Closing his eyes, Cringe sighs. Maybe he could get used to this place after all…

#Fanic #Undertale #swapfell #SF!Sans #SF!Pap #SF!Papyrus #SF!Asgore #SF!Chara #mermaids #mermaid au

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49scribes-a · 6 years

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ScribeRim: 1

Bookman was an old mer and the harshest cold of the Pale and Winterhold’s wild mountains always did a good job of reminding him of it. He was lament to say he couldn’t help wincing a little bit at the creak in his joints as he pushed through the snow, and the fact that he was neither the tallest of anyone in either human or elf kind made it no easier.

Weary eyes turned skyward as snowflakes continued to fall, gentle in their descent, but only adding to his troubles nonetheless. He was getting too old for this, especially for continuing his work at such an old age without any sort of students to pass on his work. He was, however, without any suitable students.

Those of the College were comparably young to him, but still old enough that retraining some of their skills and habits, to say nothing of their other interests, was a task he wasn’t keen on undertaking. Perhaps he might find someone far younger in other settlements, but parents were often protective of their young and wary of strangers, and to even those who knew him, wary of the dangers outside their villages.

He supposed his easiest option would be to travel to Riften and see what untapped potentials Honorhall might have there. Surely even Grelad the Kind must feel overwhelmed at times of all her young and orphaned charges, and glad to find one among them a suitable caregiver to take them off her hands. One less mouth to feed. Certainly it would likely be better in her eyes than them falling into doing work for the local Thieves.

He supposes he’s lingered already in the cold too long, continuing his path up the snowy hill between the rise of two jagged peaks. Just beyond the slope of Wayward Pass would be Nightgate Inn, a far more forgiving distance than heading all the way to either Windhelm or Whiterun to finally warm himself and sleep somewhere he might actually awaken the next morning.

The arch of the pass’s zenith provides some relief from the wind, and Bookman takes his while to observe the frozen skeletal remains of an ancient traveler that he has passed many a time heading to and fro the ancient Dwemer ruin of Alftand, keeping eternal vigil in honor.

It’s a moment that he pauses, over the remains and in observance of the small stone shrine to Arkay. While never one who would be caught devoutly attending any of Skyrim’s many temples to the Divines, be it whether he accepts Eight or the Nine that Men believe so strongly in, neither is he one to take for chance the ill-fated hazards of the climate. He wouldn’t necessarily call it faith so much as insurance. He loses nothing for giving a moment of attention to the supposed God of Life and Death, but perhaps he might gain an extra year for paying proper reverence every now and again. The irony of such a shrine placed beside a frozen skeleton is not lost to an old elf’s eyes.

“Blessed Arkay, please grant me safe passage from the north, that I might continue my work until I have a worthy heir who will see it continued through many ages following mine.”

Respects given, in word or in silence to both Arkay and the traveler in rest eternal, his sights turn to the other side of the pass, a far easier path to traverse, but still hazardous all the same with the slickness of frozen earth.

The journey, slow-going as it is, is ultimately worth it once the glittering, half-frozen pond and solitary inn finally comes into view, it’s thatched roof buried as it is. What he notices most is the smell of smoke wafting in the air, only faintly traceable through the bitter, frosted air. Far behind the lonely inn stands more jagged mountains climbing far into the sky, none moreso than the towering behemoth that is High Hrothgar and the Throat of the World standing between Whiterun and The Rift.

Nightgate is a considerably small inn of typical cobblestone-walled design, tucked away amongst snow-covered firs, glistening snowberry bushes, and half-buried mammoth bones poking out of the snowdrifts, and the first impression of the inside is equally as humbling.

The apparent size of the place is nothing worth worrying over when the heat from the fire and smell of fresh baked goods, cooked meats, and spiced stews reaches the senses however. Somewhere underlying that comes the familiar scent of garlic, dried frost miriam and elves ear so common in Nord homes. Less welcomed is the slow, thawing realization of cold still nipping at his fingers and face, and once again Bookman is reminded of his age with a reluctant sigh.

The innkeeper, an older man by Hadrig sporting a long scar and a blind eye to compliment his rugged beard, welcomes him in with curt friendliness and vague familiarity.

“Welcome. Feel free to take a seat by the fire. I’m sure I can still find a clean mug around here somewhere for something to warm to soothe you after your journey.”

“Thank you,” Bookman offers roughly, immediately scouring the room for a chair to pull up beside the fire. When he finds it, he makes himself at home. Nightgate doesn’t have a large hearth like many of the other inns, but anything is better than being exposed to the elements at this point. A quick glance tells him that among the other occupants is only a dark elf, probably a mercenary by the looks of it, and an aged, grumpy breton. “I would very much appreciate it. Some stew if you would as well, any kind.”

Hadrig nods understanding and stands from where he had been leaning over the counter, calling over the rickety wood railings of the stairs leading to the second level underground.

“Boys! We have a customer! Dish up some of that hunter’s stew.”

There’s a soft thunk somewhere, which Bookman’s trained ears immediately identify as a book smacking shut, unmistakable with how often he himself has delved into literature of all manner. Its followed by the light thump of two pairs of feet hopping up the stairs, in a flash of bright orange hair the dark can’t quite hide even in the deep shadows of the dancing firelight.

Bookman appraises the two who appear, both young males, probably breton if his eyes have yet to fail him. Oddly enough, they’re identical in appearance, all the way down to their closed right eyes, but their left eyes are contrasted in sharp, intelligent green. His first wonder is who and where their mother is. They’re not familiar from any previous visits, albeit it has been quite a few years, and there is no local woman he’s ever seen here that he could make a guess at having had them by looks alone.

They watch him back with an almost unnerving dualty, almost like a mirror of the other, but there’s something about the way they look him over in bold inquisition that he decides he likes. Just as quickly as they come to give him his bowl of stew, they’re gone again towards the stairs, and yet not once do their eyes leave him, especially one more than the other. He wonders where they’re off to in such a hurry, and then he remembers the sound of a book. Perhaps they have an interesting story to get back to, which must mean they can read, or at least try to.

“Are those boys yours?” Its very blunt and direct, but Bookman has never been one to mince words on meaningless chatter.

“I suppose you could say that,” Hadrig hums. “I’ve let them stay here the last couple of years, help with things at the inn here and there, but they’re not my children.”

“Is that so?” Bookman humors, pausing to sip down a spoonful of his food before deciding conversation would be a good way to pass the time while it cools anyway. “I’m guessing from how you speak of it that they aren’t children of your relatives either.”

Hadrig seems to catch on that his interest isn’t merely idle curiosity for curiosity's sake.

“A traveler brought them here a few years ago, found them out in the wilds while they were hunting, near-frozen as wee babes and brought them here to get them warm. They’ve been here ever since then, and I’ve let them stay until they’re old enough to go out on their own, maybe pick up work as apprentices to someone in Windhelm in a few years’ time.”

Bookman nodded his understanding. They were still very young, easily told by their size, but there’s still something admittedly skittish, he’d go so far as to say reminiscent of feral to their mannerisms. He wouldn’t say Hadrig was any sort of cruel to them, but perhaps not overly familial and attached either. More that he was offering temporary shelter to a few stray cats until they’re fit to leave again, especially with the harsh north being so treacherous a place to merely send them out on their own.

“If you’re not terribly set on having them stay past a couple more years, then perhaps I would be doing you a favor in taking them further south with me. Somewhere with better opportunities than out here.” He’s not entirely sure yet if they would be fit to take on being his apprentices, either now or in the future, but perhaps his small prayer to Arkay is being answered more readily than he would have anticipated.

“Well I certainly won’t complain, but I’m not their father. I can’t force them to go with anyone they don’t want to, and they’ve already got a few promising options to think about in Windhelm. You’re free to go down and discuss it with them if you wish.”

Bookman nodded his understanding. It was as he suspected then. While perhaps not exactly eager to be rid of them, he wasn’t reluctant either. It was a matter he didn’t care to either solve or hinder at his own expense.

Taking his while to warm up and eat first, Bookman took up Hadrig’s offer to see the two, heading down the stairs. The space below was lit by the glow of an oven, wafting the scents of fresh bread and pastries. Off to the side of it was a table, holding a few plates of fresh goods and a couple of books.

It took only a moment of looking and glancing around the other side of the oven to find the boys curled up together in the corner behind it, backs pressed to the warm stone with a book open between them.

Bookman didn’t interrupt at first, instead walking to the larger wood table to take a look at what choice of literature they had to peruse. Among them, he found The Madmen of the Reach, Report: Disaster at Ionith, Troll Slaying, Fall from Glory, The Great War, and Rising Thread Vol.II; all titles he was familiar with. While there were far more difficult reads among Tamriel’s literature, many of which Bookman had had the pleasure of delving into in his time at the College’s Arcaneum, they were certainly nothing easy to read and understand for children who could be no older than eight at most.

“Tell me,” he interrupts, though it’s not much of an interruption from what he can tell, each of their single eyes already on him. “What book are you reading now?”

They give each other a silent glance, as if wondering whether to even humor the old High Elf with their time, before looking back at him and shrugging.

“Th’ Bear of Markarth,” one of them answers. He seems the bolder of the two, if anything were to be told between them, and he thinks it's probably the one who was watching him more intensely than the other before.

“And do you know what it says?” Bookman inquired.

The same boy who answered nodded his head, while the other merely watched Bookman curiously.

“I’ talks about Ulfric Stormcloak an’ when he attacked Markarth t’ take it back from the Forsworn natives that lived in the Reach, an’ that’s how Skyrim got to be stuck in a Civil War ‘cuz Ulfric demanded free Talos worship ‘fore he’d give Markarth back to the Empire an’ made the Aldmeri D’minion mad ‘bout the White-Gold Cucordit.”

“Concordit,” Bookman corrected. Still, for what youthful lack of more difficult words the boy had, Bookman had to admit that he was just a touch impressed with how quickly and easily the boy recited the contents of the book. “And you read this all by yourselves?” After all, he could simply be repeating what he was told the book talked about, but somehow Bookman didn’t think it was only that.

“Mhm.”

“I see…” Bookman hummed, turning his gaze to the stacks of books. “And all of these as well?”

Both nodded at his inquiry, the other one who remained silent sitting up a little more attentively.

“Do the two of you enjoy reading and learning new things?”

It was the second boy who answered him, this time with a quick nod and a slightly friendlier glance than the other.

“My brother and I read all sorts of books. We’ve read those ones at least a dozen times an’ a bunch more in Windhelm when we go down there t’help make deliveries an’ things.”

Bookman hums at the boy’s enthusiasm, and notices how sharply the other keeps his eye on him.

“If you’ve read lots of books, then you probably know what a scholar is, correct?” It might not be an accurate guess, but he hopes so. It would make explaining himself much easier.

“A scholar is some’on’ who reads a lot an’ sometimes writes books on things they know about ‘at other people don’t, isn’ it?” The two glance at each other as if to reaffirm this, the more enthusiastic one nodding with a smile before they return to looking at Bookman.

“That’s correct. A scholar is someone who studies and learns all about the world, often about mysteries ill understood by others, who crave new knowledge and discoveries. I’m only one of many who has devoted their life to this, and I’m wondering if perhaps the two of you might be interested in doing the same with your lives.”

They blink at him in perfect unison, glance at each other again, and seem to give it a moment of serious thought, as though the possibility never occurred to them, but neither did it cross their minds they wouldn’t want to.

One of them, the more enthusiastic, nudges the other in the ribs as if to say we have to do it, voice coming in a whisper that isn’t quite quiet enough to conceal.

“Can we really?”

The other hums under his breath, eye downcast at the floor for a moment, then back to Bookman in question.

“Aren’t scholars all old, stuffy guys?”

Bookman could almost laugh. Such blunt statements that could only come from a child.

“A scholar is anyone who wishes to learn the world the way no one else does and see things never seen before, and then show their findings to anyone who will pick up the book they’ve written about it. The sooner you start, the wiser you’ll be when you’re old.”

“It is fun being smart…” one of them mutters under their breath, and receives a soft elbow jab immediately after.

“So how d’we be scholars?”

“First,” Bookman begins, “You find yourselves a teacher.”

There’s a small pause, and then, “And that’s you?”

“If that’s what you want me to be.”

“And then what?”

“Then, I teach you things no one else can, so that you can go on to see and learn things no one else before has. Do you wish to become my apprentices and see all the secrets Skyrim has to offer?”

There’s only a moment of hesitation, exchanged glances, gnawed lips, before they come to an unspoken, mutual decision and nod.

“We do.”

“Very well,” Bookman nods his approval, and silently thanks whatever Divines or Daedra decided their meeting should happen. “Then I accept you both as heirs to Bookman.”

#ScribeRim #Kit plays Skyrim #Okay to Reblog #me? writing fanfiction?#more likely than you'd think #actually not cuz I'm lazy and I abandon everything bUT #*jazz hands*#I'M WRITING SOMETHING!!#also I'm gonna fight FFN cuz it won't let me upload anything weeps

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janeykath318 · 7 years

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Broken Shackles 5

A few days after Jim's arrival, he was already beginning to look and feel better. His ribs didn't stick out quite as badly, he didn't feel like a walking skeleton, and his eyes were brighter, though still rather wary. What a difference some food and sleep made! He had literally been worked to the point of being worthless to his master, who had decided to make him a "gift" to Sarek.

Amanda still wouldn't let him do much beyond helping with meal prep and tending the flowers in her little garden, but it made him feel good to show some kind of gratitude for the first human who'd been kind to him in years. Spock partly counted too, since she was half human. Jim actually thought the combination of Vulcan calmness and Logic and human empathy and humor was remarkable and just perfect. Deep down in his jaded heart, something resonated the more he spent time with her. She'd coaxed him into meeting I-Chaya close up and even petting the lumbering beast. Turned out, sehlats really were big softies, despite the intimidating looks. When Jim scratched him behind the ears, the big guy practically purred and squirmed in pleasure, big tongue lolling out of his mouth. He was starting to get more used to the heat, but not enough to go outside for more than a couple hours in the morning or sunset. In the meantime, Spock was re-introducing him to chess, which he hadn't played since he was fourteen. He was finding it enjoyable and good mental exercise, even though he lost horribly every single time. One evening, as they finished packing the board away after Jim had been slaughtered three times, he asked a question that he'd been thinking about all day

“Spock, how do your parents make it work? There's got to be plenty of culture clashing between the logic and emotion. I don't think I've heard of any Vulcan-Human marriages before, but they seem pretty content together." "It is the only known bond between the two species," Spock admitted. "There is an unfortunate amount of prejudice from both sides, but my mother and father are very attached to each other despite the differences. I often find myself......torn between two sides: Not Vulcan enough for my father's people, and not human enough for my mother's." She said this all in a cool, matter-of-fact tone that made Jim sad. "As I have grown better able to control my human half with logic, the subtle insults ceased to provoke a reaction." "Insults?" Jim asked in disbelief. "I'd think Vulcans would be too logical to deliberately do that, Especially about a person's heritage." He was used to being called a dog, pet, needy slut, lazy scum and worthless wretch, but who would dare say cruel things to Spock? "I regret to say it does happen, unfortunately," Spock said, sitting ramrod straight on a cushion. "Not blatantly, but subtly done in what humans would call a "passive-aggressive" manner. And young Vulcans can be quite illogical." "They bullied you?" Jim asked, deeply annoyed on her behalf. "Several of the more unenlightened did. I admit I physically assaulted my own bondmate after he used a derogatory term for my mother." Jim grinned. "You socked him one, didn't you?" "If by "socked" you mean struck him with my fist, then I did indeed do so," Spock said, not looking repentant at all. But wait, what had she meant by bondmate? "What's a bondmate, Spock? Your boyfriend?" She almost smiled. "Not in the human sense of the word. Vulcan’s telepathic bonds are much more permanent and usually the mate is selected for them at an early age if the two minds are found to be compatible. Mine, however, was broken by mutual consent several years ago." "It would be hard to be with someone who says stuff about your mother and probably thinks it too," Jim mused, running his fingers through his still long, wavy hair. "That wouldn't bode well if you can read each other's thoughts." "We are taught to shield our minds as youths," Spock explained patiently. "Otherwise there would be many accidental invasions of privacy by sheer incidental contact. Even bonded couples must show restraint when necessary. Probing into someone's thoughts without permission is abhorrent in our culture. So you need not worry, James." Wow, she'd cleverly turned that conversation away from herself again. Jim certainly had more questions about bonds, but he set them aside for later. "I know, Spock. It's refreshing to find that respect at last. Where I've been, people take what they want by any means necessary. If I fought it, it only made things worse because I had no rights at all. Even being worked to the bone was preferable to that." He got up and yawned. "Well, I'm going to hit the hay now, Spock. It's been good learning more about Vulcans. See you in the morning." Spock looked puzzled. "There is no hay in the immediate vicinity for you to hit, Jim." "It's a human figure of speech, Spock," Jim chuckled. "We have a lot of weird sayings. Just means I'm going to bed." He could practically see her mentally adding it to her list of bizarre human expressions, probably many taught by her mother. The corner of her pretty mouth turned up a bit. "Very well, Jim. Sleep well." "Night, Spock."

#kirk x spock #spirk #my fics #genderswap

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jflashandclash · 7 years

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Attrition of Peace

Five: Reyna

Do You Wanna Go Punch Stuff… or Something? Part II

Upon realizing they were at the praetor’s house, Axel did something Reyna didn’t expect: he blushed.

Reyna kept the décor in her house simple. She was rarely in it, so she didn’t feel the need for anything elaborate. Most of the decoration looked more like a barrack’s. Her favorite weapons covered one wall, a collection of blades from all over the world. There were rewards and homemade trophies scattered on mantels, ones that the Second Cohort had stubbornly shoved at her throughout her career.

A line of zombie bunny ninjas decorated her coffee table, just beyond the entrance. Piper had been sending her those over the last few months, saying they seemed right to liven Reyna’s room.

Above her cot’s mantel, on the far wall, was a flag. It depicted a skeleton with a spear in one hand and a glass in the other. The spear was about to pierce a heart floating up in the lower right corner of the flag.

“Blackbeard’s flag,” Axel whispered upon stepping inside. Though his voice was even, his normally tan cheeks had gone bright red. Like before, his eyes darted to account for all the weapons in the room and Reyna couldn’t shake the feeling he’d seen the praetor’s house before.

“You know your pirate flags,” Reyna said. Aurum and Argentum padded into her house. Within the comfort of their home, Argentum padded right up to Axel and started sniffing him. Aurum seemed as curious, but the golden greyhound kept further back.

Reyna was surprised; their suspicion of strangers usually overweighed any curiosity.

“I know this flag,” Axel said. He glanced down at Argentum and stooped to a crouch beside the dog.

“I wouldn’t—” she started.

Axel offered the dog one of his hands to sniff, staring directly into its ruby eyes. She’d seen recruits get mauled for less, but Argentum averted his gaze. Axel rubbed him behind the ears. “I used to wrestle with a jaguar named Juana,” Axel said, smiling sadly. “But I’ll bet you two could give me a run for my obsidian, couldn’t you?”

Aurum growled.

Axel looked up at her. Now that they were closer, she could make out the designs of his facial scars. They were impossible not to notice, systematically decorating his cheeks, temples, and jaw with asymmetrical swirls, dots, and lines. There were different from the haphazard battle scars scattered over his body, though most of those were visible due to the poor condition of his dress shirt.

When he’d knelt down, she could see the bumps of lash marks along his back. Before they left the principia, a healer had patched the bullet wound on his shoulder, though he’d rejected any unicorn draught to help the healing process.

His body markings were a story to themselves.

“This is as private as it is going to get,” she said stiffly. She stepped over to the couch and sat down, withdrawing her dagger to twirl the blade on her coffee table. She had to replace the table every six months when she was in here more often. “Why did your brother think I was going to kill you?” she asked.

Axel sighed and stood. He gestured to a seat across from her. “May I?”

Reyna was so used to her campers standing without question, she was mildly surprised, but Axel had always talked to her with the confidence of an equal and the respect of a warrior. She nodded.

Once he was seated, Axel frowned. “Ajax is… wary of something else happening to our family. From what was said and what I remember, I’m pretty sure Euna killed Santiago and Kouta, our biological father and eldest brother. Ajax had hope that they could change to be better people.

“And, when the gods sent us here, our… we—um…” He sighed again. “We live out of our van. We had a lot of memories tucked away in secret compartments, old weapons, pictures, circus costumes, Hunnie and Baller…”

Reyna raised an eyebrow.

Axel chuckled. “Ajax’s two pet weasels. They were gifts from Hecate. But… I don’t know where our van is, so that’s all lost too. Matthias—our mechanic—programmed it to go wherever we considered home in the event we got separated… but the Mayan temple wasn’t home.” Axel touched a section of the giant scar that stretched from his pant line up his torso. His eyes looked distant. “Our old camp was obliterated and I doubt the van will show up in Belize with Chiich…[1] Ajax just doesn’t want to lose anything else.”

“I’m sorry about your brother and father,” Reyna said softly.

Axel’s feeling of helplessness and guilt fluttered back into Reyna’s senses. She wanted to tell him that he could talk to her about Joey, that she understood how it felt to carry the weight of dead soldiers. But, she had to remind herself that Axel was an enemy to New Rome until proven otherwise, and the Little Tiber definitely wasn’t on his side. “Why do you think the gods…” She noticed he used the plural whereas his little brother had only referred to Phobetor. “sent you to New Rome?”

Axel’s dark gaze sharpened. “I wanted to kill my father. I suspect these particular gods know that Rome isn’t friendly towards patricide.”

Reyna almost dropped her dagger. He said it so casually and candidly, she wanted to snarl at him to keep his voice down. She thought about the ghosts in San Juan and tried not to tremble.

“Unlike Rome,” Axel continued during her stunned silence. “I recognize that blood ties shouldn’t prohibit you from destroying something warped and horrible. If anything, those blood ties put the responsibility more solidly on the closest kin…” He clenched his jaw. “It shouldn’t have fallen to Euna and Joey…”

Reyna swallowed. She didn’t realize she’d embedded her dagger an inch into the wood. Alarm threatened to drown out all the questions she had for Axel. Memories of San Juan kept flickering in and out: the smell of the warm, ocean breeze, the taste of piragua, and the sound of Hylla’s shaking voice when her father lost his temper and came after them.

No one knew about that except Nico Di Angelo, Hylla, and Gleeson Hedge. Axel couldn’t.

Reyna suddenly wished that she’d kept Frank or someone nearby to continue this interrogation.

Forcing her voice not to tremble, she whispered, “That shouldn’t have been enough to make the Little Tiber try to kill you.”

Axel shifted his eyes back to hers. For a moment, she felt like he knew everything about her father. Instead, he lifted a hand up to brace against his chin. “You know exactly why the Little Tiber was trying to kill me,” he said.

Reyna had her suspicions. When she’d met him outside Camp Half-Blood, he’d said he was recruited into an army that wasn’t Camp Half-Blood or Camp Jupiter and ascended to a position of leadership, likely a low ranking Lieutenant or Captain. That army was obliterated about a year or two ago. He had Mist manipulation skills, akin to the children of Hecate. His little brother called upon the Titans for prayers and curses. He knew more about New Rome than he should.

Some part of her knew he was a soldier from Kronos’s army.

Neither of them wanted to put it to words, since she’d have to put him on trial. Though, both of them should already be put on trial for attempted and successful patricide.

“Take off your Mist mask,” she commanded.

Axel puffed up his cheeks and popped them. He opened his mouth, shut it, and ran the hand on his chin up his face and through his hair.

As his fingers brushed past his mouth, she could see white fangs, the length of her pinky. When his palm passed over his eyes, the Mist mask cracked. His eyes glistened a brilliant gold, the white disappearing to huge irises. His ears vanished, replaced by a layer of smooth, oddly patterned black hair.

Once his hand ran over the top of his head, a different set of ears appeared: triangular and fur-tufted. They remained flat back on his head when he dropped his hand. She recognized that expression from Aurum and Argentum: ashamed. Although Axel could masterfully control the slight frown on his lips, those ears gave away everything he was feeling.

His fingers now had short white claws. Obsidian blades were latched onto his forearms, previously hidden by the Mist. Upon further examination, she realized his calves had an animalistic arch.

He looked even more exhausted now, like dropping the magic mask was more difficult than keeping it up. She could tell he was waiting to see if she’d kick him out of her room or call animal control. This guy clearly hadn’t seen enough of Frank.

Reyna wasn’t sure what to say. This definitely wasn’t what she had expected. She was surprised to find, despite the animalistic features, he still looked ruggedly handsome. Just a little like something that belonged on a monster hunting show.

Axel released a shaky laugh. “Chiich said jaguar babies were a symbol of good luck. The village elders all thought it was a sign of favor from the old rain gods when Nilley gave birth to me. Jaguars are prevalent in Mesoamerican culture and…” He glanced at his hands. “I haven’t had anyone who can give me direct answers. Some of the elders said it was a gift from the Gods of the Underworld. Others thought it was a rebirth of Xbalanque.”

He shrugged. “You once asked me if I was a demigod or a legacy. I’m neither, but I never had answers and… after what Hecate did to me, I was even less sure. I am descendent from the Mopan line of kings, but none of my siblings are like me. Ajax is a Greek demigod. My little sister is an Egyptian magician, my little brother is a Japanese monk, and Kouta was a North American shifter.”

Reyna must have ripped her dagger out and set it down when he took off his mask. Her hand felt empty. Again, the fact that there were other mythological creatures running around didn’t bother her, but…

“How many people know about this?” she asked.

Axel shook his head. “Other than my family? I think it’s just Kally, a few of my old recruits that are still alive, and several gods. I’m not sure who else was conscious last time I lost control of my Mist.”

Reyna felt herself laugh. She didn’t intend to. All this time, she had suspected Axel might be a reincarnation of Luke, or a vengeful Krios, or Kronos. Not some Mesoamerican cat-guy.

“No wonder Frank said you smelled weird,” she said finally.

He cracked a smile through his fangs. “I get that a lot. I’ve been told I drive nature spirits crazy. I’m glad it didn’t startle you, though you don’t strike me as the type to startle easy.”

Reyna quieted her laughter to a serious tone. “You’re not scary,” she informed him.

“I would hope not, for a praetor of Rome. Else your troops would be in a bit of a bind when they confront real monsters,” he said. He relaxed noticeably. Slowly, his ears perked up.

Reyna wondered how afraid he’d been of showing her his real features. Although she’d been hoping that would answer a lot of her questions, it only clustered a set of others.

Axel leaned his chin on his hand again, examining her face. “You can touch my ears if you want.”

Reyna raised an eyebrow at him. “Excuse me?”

He shrugged. “You’re staring at them.”

She had been staring, but it was hard not to. She was used to the homeless fawns that wandered around Camp Jupiter and other hybrids. She wasn’t used to seeing someone she thought was human sprout animalistic features. Well—Frank didn’t count. He fully turned into the animals.

Axel stood up. Now that his Mist mask was gone, she could see that the curve to his legs made him several inches taller. He must have been well over six feet. Aurum and Argentum watched him carefully as he stepped around the coffee table to kneel beside her and expose his ears: an act of submission and something that left a warrior completely vulnerable.

This was not how Reyna had expected this interrogation to go. She thought about his attempted patricide, about his previous loyalty to Kronos, and the way the Little Tiber tried to drown him.

When Aphrodite’s words drifted through her memory, Reyna felt her chest get heavy. “No demigod will heal your heart.”

No. Someone from Kronos’s army wasn’t someone she should get close to. And the warning on that note, something you know you desperately desire and don’t know that you already hate. What could that mean? She’d handled Jason’s and Percy’s rejections. They’d never really shown an interest. But Axel… he wasn’t a praetor of Rome. He wouldn’t make a logical or useful ally. He was just someone who had made her laugh with a circus performance and had helped her beat up the Ares Cabin last time she went to Camp Half-Blood.

Despite her wariness and reservations, Reyna reached out. She needed to know. The thought of not trying made her chest ache.

Axel’s ears twitched violently when her hand got near. He clenched his jaw. “That tickles,” he muttered as she felt the soft fur that intermixed with his coarse human hair. His ears stopped twitching when she settled her hand. Axel leaned into her touch.

“Do you have malicious intentions for New Rome?” she asked.

Axel shook his head under her hand. “No… not anymore. I just want Ajax and the others to be safe.”

Not anymore…

“If you pose any threat or slip up once, I’ll kill you,” she said.

Axel laughed softly. “I would expect no less. But you’d have to be able to kill me first.” He looked up at her. Although he still looked exhausted and sad, his eyes held the smallest gleam of playfulness. As he raised his chin, her hand fell from between his ears to touch the scars on his face.

You’re a praetor of New Rome, she reminded herself, and withdrew her hand.

Reyna stood and scowled at him.

“We have some of the best grief and PTSD counselors available here,” she said, making her voice as chilly as she could. “While we don’t normally serve those exterior to the legion, I can make an exception while you’re here, especially for Euna. We’ll make sure everyone is properly cared since you are guests, and we’ll get you on your way to Chiron as soon as possible. However—” She lifted her dagger and slipped it into its sheath with a snap. “—you will be carefully watched, especially you and your brother. If you step out of line, the senate will try and punish you accordingly.”

Axel sighed and his ears drooped back against his hairline. She was annoyed how much the sight upset her. It was like when Aurum or Argentum thought they’d done something wrong when she accidentally bumped into them.

He stood up beside her, rising to his full height and pulling his shoulders back as best he could. He was well over six feet tall without the Mist making him look shorter. For a moment, she thought he might collapse, but he managed to maintain his balance. Once up, he muttered a few words in Mayan, rubbing his face.

With each motion, the fangs, gold eyes, claws, and ears disappeared, replaced by dark eyes, human ears and normal teeth. Now that she knew what he actually looked like, the Mist mask blurred between his actual features and the illusion.

Once done, he stood at attention. “Thank you, Praetor. I hope to one day be able to pay you back for your kindness.”

They paused for what would have been a respectful amount of time for two leaders to recognize one another. Then Axel puffed up his cheeks and popped them. “Last time we met, we made a wager for a rematch,” he said. “I know the conditions aren’t ideal, but do you want to find out which one of us owes the other hot chocolate?”

“Are you going to fight one handed?” she asked, examining his shoulder.

“If it comes to it.”

Reyna debated internally for a moment. “Very well,” she said. “I train with some of the more impressive soldiers at five in the morning tomorrow. I don’t think anyone would complain if there was some new meat.”

“I’ll do my best not to disappoint.” He smiled and, for a brief flicker of broken Mist, she could see his ears perk up.

Reyna was more exhausted than pleased about how giddy the movement made her. She didn’t want Axel to make her giddy. This Mayan had done nothing to earn her trust, or the trust of New Rome. Until she found out what was actually happening between him, Phobetor, these other gods, and his friends, she couldn’t let herself do this.

However, judging by how much more he opened up when they were alone, maybe a date over some hot chocolate would be the fastest way to more answers.

[1] Yucatec Mayan for Grandmother. I’m sorry guys. There are a lot of dialects of Mayan, and until I can get back to Belize, you’re going to get a nasty bastardization of all of them for the Pax brothers. I expect all you Mayan speakers out there to yell at me for this :P

Thank you so much for reading! :D I hope you enjoyed! It’s weird having romance in this book... well, that isn’t comical and Pax-screwing-up-worthy. Or is it going to be...?

Also, @traitorthot, delivered as promised XD Just half a year later than we discussed!

#The Attrition of Peace #Traitors of Olympus #Fanfiction #PJO #HOO #Axel #Reyna #Raxel--augh no that doens't work #Axyna?#Axeriez?#I give up -.-

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sleepyfan-blog · 5 years

Note

*Screams* Hewwos, um maybe, a bit out there but a version of sci from dreamswap that has helped the meme squad a fair amount of times- the last bad things happens bingo card

prompt : Bounty On Their Head

Fandom: Dreamswap by @onebizarrekai

Characters and pairing: DS Science!Sans, DS Nightmare, DS Cross, DS Error

Warnings: cursing

Word count: 1,962

Summary: Sci’s been here for just over a month and commits treason. Still, it’s for a good cause?

Sci had been working working as an intern for one of Justice Reign’s main laboratories for a little over a month, having just finished the rather extensive orientation and training program, though he was incredibly honored to have won a spot in such a well-respected organization. It was even a paid internship. He had room and board for free for himself and for his younger brother, Papyrus who was able to play with the children who were taken care of at the orphanage, and learned from the teachers that came to instruct the children. While Sci was a little… Unsure as to how he felt about the no-mercy policy when it came to dealing with criminals, he knew better than to speak up.

His supervisor shoved a pair of bulky and terrifying power-restraining cuffs and ordered him to “Take these down to the dungeon - someone dangerous has just shown up and they need these. Now. Here’s a note to give the guards so they know that you’ve got clearance to be where you’re going to deliver the cuffs. Make it fast.”

“Y-Yes sir!” Sci responded, nodding and walking as quickly as he could after he teleported to the uppermost level of the dungeon - showing the note to the guards when prompted to do so, not wanting to get into trouble.

It took a surprisingly short amount of time, and he was pushed unceremoniously into the cell, where there was a heap of purple and black clothing. Sci blinked and made his way cautiously further into the cell, poking the being with one of his feet and jumping back a little when it groaned and shifted. He took in a deep, steadying breath before carefully lifting the other up with his magic - the skeleton in his grasp having the strangest soul that he’d ever scene - it was the shape and size of an apple - and was a violet hue. Sci also read the other’s Stats - not that he meant to.

{Nightmare - Guardian of Negativity: 430/50000 HP, 500 ATK, 700 DEF. LV 3. Tired and determined. Your friend and former neighbor.} Sci sets the other down on the cot and moves over to the still unconscious skeleton, his hands shaking a little at the implications that information had just given him, pausing for a moment as he realizes that this is the latest version of the power-restricting cuffs that he helped to work on. He closes them with a click, deliberately ignoring the fact that one of the runes that would keep the other’s magic from being used is carved too deeply to be effective - and another is carved just incorrectly enough to mask the other’s magical presence instead of suppress it.

“Uhm…” He calls out uncertainly as he sees a hint of violet in the other’s eye sockets “Guard person? This prisoner is injured. Shouldn’t… Shouldn’t they be tended to?”

“… What did they pull you out a blind AU last week? You really have no idea who that is, do you?” The guard called out derisively, rolling their eyes - all ten of them. It was really impressive and a little intimidating “Nah, we won’t bother the medics for the likes of him. But if you have a bit of healing magic, then heal him if you like.”

Sci nodded, his hands lighting up green, and he knew that the other was awake as Nightmare as the check had told him the other’s name was, jolted softly as his magic soothed the other’s injuries. He didn’t have enough magic to bring the other back up to full HP, but it was well over half. He did recognize the other as Shade - one of his neighbors. The other tended to be reclusive and disliked going outside without his datemates with him. Sci had helped them out as best as they could - and he’d noticed that all three of them had been wary of Justice Reigns.

At the time he’d thought nothing of it. He had his reservations about such a powerful organization interfering with his timeline - despite the fact that their aid had helped everyone quite a bit. Lord Dream himself had broken the barrier that had sealed them all underground and had led the peace talks with the humans above. But Sci had been… Worried about what the cost of all of that would be… And he’d figured he didn’t have much of a choice when a JR representative had shown up at his door, asking if he would be interested in working in their science division.

He’d been having a bit of a get-together with Shade, Criss and Merrow, and as soon as he’d seen who was at the door, he’d sent Paps to tell them before going upstairs to be quiet, wandering slowly to the front door in order to give them time to hide. He’d also figured out when the JR patrols would go through Snowdin and shared the information with the three of them.

Now though… There was a choice before him. Should he help Shade - or rather Nightmare - who had been a good if awkward friend… Or should he stay quiet and live in comfort and security with his baby brother (while hating himself for condemning a friend to a not so pleasant fate)? He glanced around and shifted ever so slightly to the right so that the camera wouldn’t see his hands moving {Third rune on the inside of the right cuff will give if you push it, then they will come off completely. These cuffs are mostly defective. Stay safe, Shade.} He also pulled out the half-dozen spider-donuts that he’d been planning to surprise Paps with and quickly shoved them into Night-Shade’s mouth, boosting the other’s HP even further.

Night’s eye lights widen in shock and gratitude and he nods, signing a silent {Thank you. Stay safe.}

Sci nodded imperceptibly, smiling a little at the other before turning to the front of the cell and calling out “Okay, I’m ready to come out of the cell now.”

The guard person nodded, unlocking the cell and opening just wide enough for Sci to get out before slamming it shut and locking it securely “You newbies are always so soft on the criminal scum. You’ll soon learn that they deserve nothing more than what Lord Von Licht and the courts decide they get.”

“I… Uh-uhm, okay…” Sci responded, uncomfortable and worried.

They managed to make it about half-way through the dungeon when Criss and Merrow showed up in a flash of destructive magic, the distinctive staticky sound of Merrow’s portals warning Sci several seconds before they actually arrived, subtle though it was. He stared at the both of them before he decided that there was no job cushy and secure enough to make him abandon his friends.

Sci swiftly turned around and murmured “I’m sorry, you seemed… Like a decent person.” To the guard who’d been escorting him, summoning a bone attack and smacking the other hard enough on the head with it to knock the other out cold for several seconds. Sci quickly tied the other up using the cuffs that they had on their waist and threw the key ring at Criss, who stared at him in confusion, just barely able to catch it out of reflex “Hey guys… So it turns out I’m not JR material after all. Shade is three levels straight below us, that is if he hasn’t-”

Shade came barrelling towards them, sprinting at full speed, a dozen guards cursing and charing right behind him, the broken cuffs dangling from his wrists - precisely where Sci had told him to snap them. Sci yelped and called out loudly “N-No!” raising a thick wall of blue bones that was several feet thick and misjudging the distance so that they sprung up between Shade and the guards - giving them plenty of time to escape. He winked at a still stunned and confused Criss and Merrow before calling out “P-please l-let me go!” Making it sound as if they’d forced him to do that “Please… M-my little b-brother is e-elsewhere in the ca-castle… P-Please let me go…”

“I… What? I-I’m not-” Criss started, the confusion audible in his voice.

Shade interrupted him with a smack to the head, signing faster than Sci could read. He said “You should be useful enough as a hostage if my companion can’t get us a portal out of here before reinforcements arrive.” Shade grabbed him and held him close, muttering under his breath “Teleport to your brother and run out to the forest. We’ll meet you there and get you both out of here.” Sci nodded minutely in response.

Criss went “Oooh.” Softly and nodded before scowling at him “Yeah… You… Hostage-y person.”

Shade sighed and face palmed “Shut up, Cross…”

Merrow reopened the portal and Shade shoved him aside roughly, smirking “Thanks for the help. See you later, maybe.”

Sci was already teleporting over to where his brother was - taking a mid-afternoon nap in their small apartment in the living quarters section of JR’s castle. He shoved Papyrus’ most beloved treasures into his inventory as fast as he could. While he could hope that no one thought that he’d deliberately helped - he could sense guards running to his location - and he wasn’t going to put his brother in further danger, wrapping his baby brother up in his favorite blanket and teleporting away just as Von Licht himself burst into the room, claymore in hand, frowning dangerously.

Sci stumbled a little as he nearly ran into a tree, the teleportation much rougher than he was expecting it to be - but Criss grabbed him by a shoulder and flung the both of them through a portal, rushing after him a second later, the portal snapping shut as he found himself in a very strange place. “Where… Where are we?”

‘Welcome to the omega timeline. Home to the lost, outcast and innocent who are hunted.” Shade responded with a wry sigh “Since you helped to save my ass… I suppose I should properly introduce myself - good work fucking up those cuffs, by the way that was brilliant. I’m Nightmare - number one on JR’s hitlist for the crime of existing. Number two - Error and Number three Cross. They’re high up on the list too because they’re my friends and they can’t catch us if we’re together.”

“Come on, let’s watch some TV and eat. I’ve got some brownies on the counter.” Cross responded “We’ve got a spare room you can put the squirt.”

“I… Thank you for not leaving me behind.” Sci responded gratefully “Even though it put you in danger.”

“Of course we’d come after you too. You helped us dodge JR’s patrols at least a dozen times. Nightmare actually got captured on purpose because we were worried that Lord Von Fuu…” Cross’s eye lights flickered to the sleeping child “Fuuunky face might have grabbed you ‘cause he realized you were helping us.”

Unfortunately their episode of Undernovella was interrupted by a breaking bulletin - there was a new wanted criminal… His face was up. His crimes were aiding and abetting the escape of other prisoners… And kidnapping a child.

“Woo! Look at you, that’s an impressive amount of G for just that. You must have quite a noodle in your head if he wants you back. Were you working on anything sensitive?” Cross grinned, even as Error and Nightmare rolled their eye lights.

“I… J-Just the newest magical restraining cuffs and something about a kind of car?” Sci shrugged, frowning a little.

“Huh. Welp, welcome to being a villain. We’ll give you a jacket and lessons in Evil Laughter after this.” Nightmare responded with a small grin, patting one of the other’s shoulders. They returned to watching Undernovella, Papyrus safely asleep upstairs.

#my writing #cursing tw #ds science sans #ds nightmare #ds cross #ds error #ds dream

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