#Taliax

[goldenhourzine]

☼ Contributor Spotlight! ☼

Our next writer is @gabriel-agreste-has-no-rights! With their incredible characterizations and wonderful way with words, we're thrilled to have Taliax onboard, and adore the awkward Adrien moments in their fic!

[kairizine]

🌺 Please meet our writer, Taliax! 🌺

Find them on AO3 | Tumblr @taliaxlatia

The @kairizine preorders open March 28th, 2023.

[jacks-long-coat]

Chapters: 6/6 Fandom: Deltarune (Video Game) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Spamton G. Spamton/Swatch, Queen & Swatch (Deltarune) Characters: Swatch (Deltarune), Spamton G. Spamton, Queen (Deltarune) Additional Tags: Romance, Lovers To Enemies, Sad Ending, They/Them Pronouns for Swatch (Deltarune), Pre-Deltarune, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Humor, Short Spamton G. Spamton, Swatch (Deltarune) Backstory, POV Swatch (Deltarune), POV Third Person, Podfic, Podfic Length: 2-2.5 Hours Summary:

[2hr 23m 18s] Swatch's purpose is to serve the Queen. Spamton's purpose is to make deals. By nature, any other passions between them are disposable. (Betrayal still hurts.) [Written by Taliax.]

[carlyraejepsans]

timeloop fic that takes place pre or post the events of UNDERTALE? the timeloop victim wouldn't be frisk or flowey, but another character in the game. i think it would be really funny if it was burgerpants. apathetic min wage worker hauls ass to get time rolling again so he can get to his weekend

. ok. i would NOT write this.

because my friend @smells-like-mettaton already did and it is literally exactly what you described and you need to check it out immediately because it's so fucking funny

[smells-like-mettaton]

Happy birthday @carlyraejepsans!! Small birthday fic for you!!!

Word Count: 1 123

Rating: G

Summary: Papyrus and Mettaton enact an explosive plan to get Sans and the Queen together.

XXX

“Are you sure this will lead to an explosion of romantic feelings?” Papyrus whispered to Mettaton in their hiding spot behind a conveniently-shaped shrub. 

The convenience was artificially-created—he had been the one to trim this particular hedge in the shape of himself and Mettaton—but that was okay. Sometimes these things needed a little artificial flavor, or nothing would ever get done! 

He hoped Queen Toriel liked the artificial flavor of bombs. 

“Darling, nothing is more romantic than missile toe!” Mettaton replied, holding a long pair of binoculars to see through the hedge. “Just wait. This program hasn’t even started yet!”

Papyrus scooted closer, pressing one eyesocket to half of the binoculars. It gave him a pretty good view of his brother and the queen standing beneath one of the garden’s arches, where Sans liked to hang out and pick water sausages for his “illegal” hot dog stand. Mettaton had forged a note in Sans’s handwriting, and Papyrus had set up the missile toe—a tarsal-and-bomb combo Mettaton said was a hit on the surface—to create the most romantic atmosphere possible. Surely it would blow through Sans’s aloof exterior and compel him to confess his true feelings!

“Hey, Tori.” Sans hid a bundle of water sausages behind his back. Papyrus wasn’t sure why he bothered, since they both knew Toriel knew what he was doing with them. “Water you doing here?”

Papyrus suppressed a groan. Sans was never going to get anywhere with abysmal puns like that! It was a good thing he had such a brilliant brother looking out for him!!

Toriel laughed, though, because she was absolutely smitten by Sans’s slime-emitting charms. Somehow. 

“Oh, nothing mulch.” She smiled, her fangs poking out from under her upper lip. Papyrus had caught Sans grinning dopily at that smile more times than he could count. Not that Toriel would be able to tell, since Sans’s expressions were nearly impossible for anyone but Papyrus to read. “I hoped you might be able to tell me.”

She held out the note Mettaton had written. It had told her to meet Sans here for a special surprise. 

“Huh. Any idea who wrote that?” Sans asked, glancing around. 

Papyrus tried to keep his bones from rattling with anticipation. 

“It was not from you?” Toriel frowned. 

“Nope. It’s a pretty good forgery, though. They even got my i’s write.” He held the paper up to the sun lamps in the cavern ceiling, like he was trying to see through it. Mettaton hadn’t hidden any secret messages, though, as far as Papyrus was aware. “Hey, wait a second.”

While looking up, he’d apparently noticed the missile toe. Perfect timing!

“Hit it, darling!” Mettaton said.

Papyrus pressed the remote detonator. 

The bomb exploded with a BOOM of bones and confetti. It was loud, it was flashy, it was perfect! In fact, Toriel was throwing herself at his brother already!!

She tackled Sans to the ground, tarsals raining down on her back. Sans’s face, pinned near her shoulder, went bright blue.

“Are you alright?” Toriel asked him quickly, propping herself up on her palms. 

“Uh,” he said coherently. 

“Ugh, Sans, you’re blowing it!!” Papyrus hissed.

“Let the show go on,” Mettaton stage-whispered. “There’s still time for a grand finale.”

“Not sure about all right, but looks like I’m all left in one piece,” Sans finally said, still lying on the ground. 

“Thank goodness.” Toriel sighed shakily. “Perhaps I should not have disbanded the Royal Guard after all… I never would have expected such a cowardly attack…”

“Heh. I think you’ve got it the other way around.” Sans picked up one of the fallen tarsals. “This has the Royal Guard written all over it.”

“You mean—Papyrus did this?” Toriel’s brow furrowed.

Papyrus cursed. Ratted out by his own brother! Didn’t he have any sense of gratitude??

“Do you not think that is a little far-fetched?” Toriel asked, standing and helping him to his feet. “Perhaps he is being framed. Your brother has no reason to fight either of us. Unless our puns pushed him too far…”

“Nah, he’s not into that kind of pun-ishment.” Sans grimaced. 

“Then why…?”

“Because Sans is incapable of telling you how he feels!” Papyrus burst through the hedge, leaving a Papyrus-shaped hole in the Papyrus-shaped shrub.

“Hey, bro.” Sans sounded tired, and not at all surprised to see him.

“Papyrus?” Toriel gaped.

“And Mettaton!” Mettaton burst through his adjacent shrub.

“And Mettaton.” Sans sighed. “Nice job with the note.”

“Thank you! Having a built-in photocopier comes in handy.”

Toriel pinched the bridge of her nose. 

“What is the meaning of all this?” 

“Romance! Drama! Bloodshed! What else?” Mettaton beamed. “The producer isn’t supposed to be seen on set, but Papyrus made the executive decision to pull back the curtain, so here we are! Ready for our close-up!”

Toriel shook her head, but chuckled.

“Of course… well, that is sweet of you. But, I am afraid your script has an error in it.”

“An error?” Mettaton gasped with a hand to his mouth. 

“Yes. You see, I already know how Sans feels about me.” She smiled.

“You… what???” Papyrus’s jaw dropped.

Sans went pale. Paler than usual, anyway.

“What.”

She rested a hand on Sans’s shoulder.

“I did not want to press you on the subject. I have been alive for hundreds of years. I can be patient.” She gave Papyrus a stern look, and he shivered. “As you should learn to be, as well. It is terribly impolite to force someone to confront their feelings before they are ready.”

Papyrus looked away. He’d just been trying to help! Still, there was no fighting a look like that. He could only hope she decided to spare him.

“I see… My dating handbook must be missing a few pages,” he muttered.

“There was no force involved! Only the romantic catalyst of missile toe!” Mettaton insisted, hugging Papyrus close as if to protect him from Toriel’s glare.

“Missile…?” Sans snickered. “Okay, that’s funny.”

“I knew you would understand!” Papyrus said. Sans always appreciated a good jape!

“Yeah, yeah. Just don’t try toe blow me up again. Just ‘cause ya missed this time—”

“UGH!! You are impossible!!! You are lucky the Queen puts up with you!!!”

“I think I do more than put up with him.” Toriel winked.

Sans blushed again. 

“Wonderful! That’s a wrap, darlings!” Mettaton waved with the arm that wasn’t squeezing Papyrus. “No need to thank us. Just order a jar of MTT-Brand Beauty Yogurt™ for your first date, and we’ll call it even!” 

Mettaton engaged the wheels in the heels of his boots and zoomed them away. The sound of Sans and Toriel’s laughter echoed behind them.

That was all the thanks that Papyrus needed.

[burst-of-iridescent]

Hi, what are some lesser known zutara fics you think deserve more attention?

to clarify, i'm not sure if some of these fully count as "lesser known" but i personally think they deserve more love:

always the bridesmaid by bluenebulae: modern au, oneshot. zuko is katara's blind date to sukka's wedding and it's cute as all hell <3

souvenirs we never lose by taliax: post-canon, multichapter. katara offers to heal zuko's scar again on a diplomatic mission in the northern water tribe. it's soft and wholesome and also there's fake dating which is always a win.

clothe me in seasons, dress me in snow by sadladybug: canon compliant, multichapter. be warned that this is heartbreak city. i cried like three times, but it's written so beautifully it's worth the pain.

following blue by boogum: canon divergent, multichapter. bluetara + zutara travelling together + a grouchy ostrich horse... what more could you want?

a warm embrace by ewinkie: canon divergent, multichapter. zuko and katara fall asleep together after the events of the southern raiders, and oops, now they can only sleep well when they're together... but that doesn't mean anything, right?

(the fluff is fluffing in this one. trust me.)

how (not) to care for katara by tiny_katara: canon divergent, multichapter. if you want zuko taking care of katara, delirious confessions, everyone knowing zk has feelings for each other but zk, and toph shenanigans... this is the fic for you <3

[0p1er0]

ANYTHING BY (__________) UTMV/UT ADDITION 🐍 🪽

(Some of my favorite authors, I couldn't add some cuz they mostly write smut)

ApatheticCinaRoll (X) @apatheticcinaroll

AppleBloomer (X) @applebloomer1

Psycho_Chair (X) @psycho-chair

jisko2ijsko (X) @ancientschampionau

Devcipher (X)

Everinty (X)

Herring_the_skeleton (X) @shadowy-suitcase-herring-neck

Im_Sorry_Buddy (X)

Inyahs (X) @inyahs

KingdomsHaven (X)

MsPandora (X) @mspandorasart

poplasia (X)

samlysam (X)

Sansarion (X)

skerb (X)

Sye_Dye (X)

century_berry (X)

TheOwlsArchive (X)

UndertaleThingem (X) @undertalethingems

Mute_Me (X)

WhisperingEcho (X) @a-whispering-echo

Wingless_Hummingbird (X)

WrittenKinzy18 (X) @paintedkinzy-88

SecretTimeIsHere (X)

TGK Translations (TheGrinningKitten) (X)

the_enby_bird (X) @the-enby-bird

parsnipit (X)

Develation (X) @develation

Thepepinpurple (X) @thepepinpurple

onebizarrekai (X)

AnisEileen (X)

Alecsa (X really good author but it's in Russian)

PineconeTrinklebriar (X) @pineconetrinklebriar

PastelAspirations (X) @pastelaspirations

Philippaki (X)

qweezy0w0 (X)

Abomination_X (xyriscomplanata) (X) @xyriscomplanata

KimberlyLikesCherries (X)

venit_saucybones (X)

Firepup (mind tags)

suddenturn (X)

Taliax (X)

Little_Guy (X)

LynxGriffin (It's actually just comics and its the coolest thing)

Tumblr Fic writers!

(X) gaylordscooter

---And for the one fluffer on Wattpad

Fireladyofink (X) @fireladyofink

------------Single/Series favorites ✨

You Don't Have a Choice - MariusAngelicaSue (X)

You Might Be Evil but You're Not Too Bad - ScreechingReptoids (X)

Black Apple Blues - theunknownthey (X)

Whispers in the Dark - Kei (adakie) (X)

Building your own Emotional Intelligence Toolkit with Blue - Hstaya (X) @hstayafanart

------------------------------------- 🐍🪽

(if you know someones Tumblr, feel free to share)

Feel Free to (please please please do) recommend books!!

Please go check out these talented authors!

Ps. Have a fic you just can't find? Try using this!

[somegrumpynerd]

Inspired by Hotel Sans, One Vacancy by Taliax which has been living in my head ever since I read it, I love it so much

Bonus:

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

Hello, I'm looking for things to read ;w;

Heya, my AO3 reading list is empty and I don't know what to read. Can you rec me some of your best fics?

I just have some requirements:

I don't read the "multiverse" crew (Nightmare, Dream, Bad Sanses, Geno, Ink, Error, ...), it's not my thing sorry.

I'm fine with whatever coming from the canon honestly, but I have a crush on Papyrus centric fics.

I love Underfell, Horrortale and Swapfell as well. I'm fine with AU mix when it's a Reader story. No Mafia or Yandere stories please.

I love Reader stories.

I like short stories, but I love 1 billion words story as well so go wild. I don't mind if the story is on going.

I'm not a lot into ships, but I'm very fine with Alphyne, Soriel, Salphys, Sansby, Gaster/Asgore and Papyton! No ship with Frisk or Chara please, or Sanscest or Papycest thanks.

I love ANGST, but funny things are good as well.

And that's all. Don't hesitate to rec several fics, I have no problem reading 500k in a week lol.

Some big fics I already read: Making a monster, Jack of all trades, Unexpected guests, Fur a good time call, The Skeleton Games, most of Taliax & Biscia stories, and many others I can't recall because I'm reading so damn much.

Thank you all <3

[taliaxlatia]

Rating: G

Summary: Xehanort continues to haunt Kairi's dreams. She hopes to find a way to uproot his phantom presence for good.

Wordcount: 2,011

Notes: Written for @kairizine with illustrations by @mellekist! This was super fun, so glad I got to be a part of it!!

XXX

In the Weeds

Sweet scents fill the crisp spring air, wafting up from blossoms of every shape and color. The flowers are separated within geometric plots: tall from short, leafy from bare, vibrant from muted. Blue-gray paving stones wind between each bed, like island chains connecting blooming continents. 

In the center of it all, a fountain gurgles. Shimmering water flows out like spokes of a wheel, giving life to flowers spreading past the horizon.

It’s a beautiful world. It resembles what would’ve been, should’ve been, her world—if not for the silver-haired man kneeling in the plot of flowerless dirt before her. 

“Good evening, Kairi,” he says, even though the sun hangs directly overhead, casting no shadows on the world below. He doesn’t look up from his work—though why he’s bothering to weed a plot of nothing but weeds is anyone’s guess. “I hope that your day was sufficiently pleasant.”

How can it be, when I have to see you at the end of it? she wants to snap, bitter as the violet garlic blossoms in the plot behind her. 

It doesn’t matter what she says, though. Nothing has been able to uproot this shadow of Xehanort from the soil of her dreams.

Tonight, he resembles his complete self—the one who had taken her as a child and sent her adrift. The one who had connected her heart to Sora. It’s his favorite form, from what she can tell, though he seems as helpless to choose between his alternate selves as she is to banish them. 

His purple ascot hangs untied around his neck. His lab coat has been set aside, folded neatly on the ground between the budding plants, leaving him in a collared shirt under a ribbed gray vest. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, but dirt has still managed to stain his cuffs.

If he’s a phantom, he’s a very vivid one. And if he’s not…

“Ah. No words to spare for me tonight? And here I was rather looking forward to your clever barbs.” He plucks a thorned weed from the plot of leafy stalks, twirling the stem between his fingers. 

She doesn’t know why a magical dream garden grows weeds at all, much less why Xehanort bothers to remove them, night after night. If not for his sisyphean effort, she would attribute the thorns to his corrupting influence. Of course, maybe he’s the reason this plot lacks the blooms that color the rest of the garden.

“I’m not here to entertain you, Xehanort,” she sighs.

“I suppose that’s true.” He nods thoughtfully. “I am meant to entertain you, more likely.”

She snorts, plopping down on the curved beam that edges this flower bed. If she has to be awake during her dreams, she can at least stop standing like she expects to be attacked.

Xehanort won’t harm her. He can’t. He’s tried a few times, when he first began invading her dreams. He seemed to believe that destroying her would free him from this dream-prison, but she’d just respawned, more frustrated than ever. 

His idea of “entertainment” is likely just as violent. If she hadn’t sparred so much today, she might’ve picked a fight with him, just to see if her training would show. 

Not that she expects to destroy him, either. No matter which form he’s taken, she hasn’t been able to best him—unless she counts the one time Sora had projected enough of his consciousness to assist her. 

(She doesn’t.)

“Well, if you have nothing to say, then you won’t object to me filling the silence.” He hums, inspecting a narrow, slightly yellowed leaf that looks just like every other narrow, slightly yellowed leaf in this plot. “I have not been able to determine what time of year this place is meant to mirror. Every bed seems to run on its own timeframe. I’ve spotted zinnia and hellebore blooming in plots barely two stepping stones apart.”

“It’s a magic garden.” Kairi yawns. “You don’t expect it to make sense, do you?”

“Not particularly. But that’s why this bed is so fascinating. None of these plants have flowered, despite every other species’ state of perpetual bloom.”

Kairi’s brow furrows as she inspects the plants. A few leafy stems end in tiny bulbs, with the hint of orange petals hiding within. For the most part, though, they just resemble tall grass.

It is strange. Not as strange as hearing Xehanort sound so interested, though.

“I assume you are familiar with these flowers, considering this is your garden,” he continues. “Asclepias tuberosa. More commonly known as butterfly weed. But are you aware of their significance?”

He’s wrong. The garden is as much a mystery to her as it is to him. She hesitates to give him any more power by admitting her ignorance, though. 

“So… they are weeds?” she asks tentatively. 

“‘Weed’ is merely a title given to any plant that grows where it isn’t wanted. It isn’t a very useful classifier, botanically.”

She frowns, leaning forward to pick at one of the leaves. 

“Something that grows where it isn’t wanted, huh? Sounds like you might know something about that.”

“Ah. There’s that wit of yours.” His smile looks entirely too genuine. On anyone else, she’d call the expression warm. “But yes, I do. What about you? You haven’t answered my question.”

She sighs. Unfortunately, she has nothing better to do than humor him. 

“I don’t know anything about butterfly weed,” she admits, deciding that his opinion of her doesn’t matter enough to pretend otherwise. 

“Really?” His eyes go wide with surprise. “I must reevaluate my hypotheses. That is what I get for assuming, I suppose…” He shakes his head. “Butterfly weed. In the code of flowers native to Radiant Garden, it is gifted as a goodbye—particularly to someone from which one desires long-term distance. The literally translated meaning is ‘let me go.’”

“Let me go…” she echoes quietly. 

If only the buds would bloom. This is the only flower she’d want to share with Xehanort.

“How do you know all this?” she asks, caught between suspicion and curiosity. She can’t imagine him studying flowers alongside the experiments that plunged her homeworld into darkness. 

“Ah. Let’s just say my former Master had plenty of chores for me to attend to… and my former companion had plenty of trivia to distract from the menial labor.” He smiles again, reminiscing fondly. “Of course, the meanings he assigned to each flower weren’t always accurate. I recall him trying to convince me that daffodils meant someone was ‘daft and smelled like dill.’”

He snorts softly, and Kairi’s teeth grind together to keep a shocked laugh from escaping. 

How can he sound so normal? This is the man who stole her from her birth family, who used her as a pawn against Sora time and time again. He doesn’t deserve to be here, tending flowers without a care in the world.

“It would be wonderful to see him again…” he murmurs while caressing one of the stems.

“You should’ve thought of that before you tried to destroy the worlds,” she says sharply.

Before you destroyed me. 

She can’t listen to this anymore. She doesn’t care if she’s stuck here all night; she’ll find another section of the garden to hide away in. 

She stands, only to be stopped short by his melancholy voice.

“Yes… I suppose I should have.” He sighs. His hand falls to his side, index finger tracing aimless trails through the dirt. “If I had only been content with what I had… perhaps my life would not have ended alone.”

His form flickers like static, and a black coat replaces his gray vest and pants. The spikes of his hair split and darken a shade. 

Xemnas. The Xehanort who delivered her up to her final fate.

“If that’s your way of apologizing for kidnapping me, it could use some work,” she huffs.

She refuses to flinch away from his more intimidating appearance. He’s still kneeling in the dirt. He still can’t hurt her. Not this time.

“You would accept an apology from me?” he asks, brow furrowed. His voice is at least a half-octave deeper now. 

Jarringly, it reminds her of when Wakka’s voice dropped in junior high. At least the ridiculous mental comparison makes it easier to stand up to Xemnas.

“No. But it wouldn’t hurt.”

He chuckles ruefully, dipping his head. 

“Very well. I am sorry for the pain you have suffered at my hands…” He takes his original form again, and his shoulders relax a little. “Though it is impossible for me to honestly apologize for everything.”

She frowns. She doesn’t believe he’s honest about anything—but if he’s going to lie, why not go all in?

“What do you mean?” 

“Radiant Garden was already doomed, before any of my actions took effect. The Ansem you call ‘Wise’ made sure of that.” He snorts. “But you… you were our hope, Miss Kairi. If not for your bond with Sora, who would have come to pull us from the dark?”

He snaps a closed bud from its stem, holding it out to her like a peace offering.

“I sent you off. And you found a home that you treasured, did you not? The same home that half of me hailed from.” His visage flickers to that of Master Xehanort, but thankfully becomes his younger self again. She can’t look into the Master’s eyes without feeling like she’s choking. “And so the wind blows the next generation of seeds back out to sea…”

She does treasure the Islands. But most of all, she treasures the friends she has there. Her adopted parents. Sephie, Tidus, Wakka. Sora and Riku… 

Sora, trapped in a realm beyond her comprehension. Riku, searching for him alone.

“I just want my friends back.” Her throat tightens. She doesn’t take the offered bud. “If you really cared, you wouldn’t have sent me to them just to take them away.”

“This is true.” Xehanort’s arm drops, letting the snapped stem fall. “I did not care. It is only in death that I can see how shortsighted that was.”

He looks up, and for once, she believes the regret in his brown eyes—a different color from the other Xehanorts. 

(Why? It can’t be Terra’s influence. Terra’s eyes are blue.)

“But there is nothing I can do for them now. I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “You and I are both seeds drifting far from those we called friends.”

“Don’t—don’t compare yourself to me.” She shakes her head, her hands trembling.

He can still hurt her. He doesn’t need keyblades or magic—he just needs to be human. To nurture her sympathies the way he attempts to nurture this garden. 

She hates that she wants to fall for it. She wants to believe the man trapped in her mind isn’t as evil as he appears. Is she really this desperate for someone to understand her?

Xehanort simply nods, returning to his silent plucking of weeds. Red wells from the pads of his fingers where thorns prick them.

It’s what he deserves. To be alone and forgotten. 

(As alone and forgotten as she is.)

…Light, now she’s comparing them. The seed he’s planted has already taken root.

She brushes one butterfly weed bud—and a single petal peels free, facing the sun.

Her breath catches. How…?

Xehanort looks up at the sound, then to the opening orange bloom. His eyes widen.

“How did you…?” he echoes her thoughts.

She nearly says she doesn’t know. But—but she does.

She knows. And she knows how to make him leave.

(Asclepias tuberosa. “Let me go.”)

The flower bloomed when her hate had wavered. The question is, can it waver again? Can she let go of this pain for good?

Not yet. Not yet, but eventually. Hope blooms in her chest, bright as the flower in her hand.

“It’s my garden, remember?” She grips the blossom tight, its stem leaking warm sap against her palm. “I still hold the power here.”

And with that power, she’ll set herself free.

[buhbahbuh]

do you have any fanfic recs?? 👀🙏🏽

Omg lemme look through my vault brb

Edit: ok here we go UwU

Deltarune

Ralsei existential crisis fic by honeynpeaches: https://archiveofourown.org/works/34463431

Some kind of Spamton timetravel fic ITS SO GOOD ITS SO JUICY ITS ONE OF MY ALL TIME FAVORITES by SpaghettiForPapy: https://archiveofourown.org/works/34834519/chapters/86740756

Berdly x Kris fic funny by bluebirdnerd (CringeWritingSpace): https://archiveofourown.org/works/36916987

Undertale

DoomGuy in undertale by AgitatingSkeleton: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9275174/chapters/21019793

BURGERPANTS BEING THE MAIN CHARACTER by Taliax: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31662938/chapters/78360050

Burgerpants x Nice Cream guy one shots by DarklingImp: https://archiveofourown.org/series/366731

Theres a lot of good fics for these fandoms, but these are my favs lol

[teashoptiramisu]

ATLA fics that read like Muffinlance's? I've made my way thru almost her whole catalogue, I adore them, and I CRAVE MORE.

So I'm almost 3 years out of the game in terms of keeping up with ATLA fic-writing fandom, but some suggestions:

Check the "inspired by" sections on muffinlance's fics. For example, here's the list for Salvage (it's quite long!). These might vary a lot in technique and tone, but they were all made by people who love the same stories we do

muffinlance's gifts on AO3 - This group will have a lot of overlap with the first one, b/c many people who write "inspired by" works also gift them to muffinlance, but it's worth knowing about, and I've found some fun stories searching through here!

muffinlance's bookmarks - These will be more varied in fandom (muffinlance reads in several fandoms) but she has GREAT taste. I've found a lot of fics I loved from her bookmarks -- in particular, snipers solve 99% of all problems changed my entire experience with online fandom

ml's #fic rec tag on tumblr -- probably a lot of overlap with the first three, but she also promos some tumblr-only authors there

Captainkirkk/aloneintherain is another fic reccer to check out, I might have heard about muffinlance from her recs actually. Her blog has an atla recs tag, a weekly fic roundup tag, and a general fic rec tag which includes recs people submit

You'll notice I've been suggeting methods to find fics rather than linking specific fics, because tbh I'm not really sure what "reads like muffinlance" at this point. She's a fantastic author with a pretty distinctive voice, and there's a lot more fantastic authors in this fandom but I'm not sure if they'll appeal to you for the same reasons muffinlance does. A lot of my favorites are the obvious popular ones (The Dragon-King's Temple by kryal, the first third of Embers by Vathara, Another Brother by AvacadoLove)... okay some fewer-hit-count faves that you might not have encountered: The Best Path by EudociaCovert, Imagine the Ocean (and sequels) by Damkianna, definitely not suspicious at all in the least by presumenothing, Sweat and Ginseng by Taliax. You could also check my bookmarks, I've got about 60 public ones

If you're okay with other fandoms, I recommend the authors metisket and polynya on AO3, their stories make me happy in a similar way to how muffinlance's make me happy :P

[jacks-long-coat]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Deltarune (Video Game) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Noelle Holiday/Susie (Deltarune) Characters: Noelle Holiday, Susie (Deltarune) Additional Tags: Snowgrave | Pipis | Weird Route (Deltarune), Angst, POV Noelle Holiday, Blood and Injury, Missing Scene, Podfic, Podfic Length: 0-10 Minutes Summary:

[8m 47s] Sweat beaded on Susie's forehead as she brought the tip of her axe to Noelle’s finger. The ring dug in its thorns. (Noelle and Susie's unseen conversation in the Weird Route.) [Written by Taliax.]

[carlyraejepsans]

Since you're the Soriel expert I wanted to ask if you know any fanfics that take place in one of those neutral endings where Sans goes on to live with Toriel in the ruins

I haven't really found anything

I just think it's fascinating

Papyrus is dead and the underground is fucked and Sans only has one person who he gives back damn about. And he doesn't have the heart to tell Toriel that the human she cares about deeply killed his brother

my friend tali (@smells-like-mettaton) wrote two for that ending some time ago, one of which for yours truly, and they are really fucking good go read them NEOWW

[smells-like-mettaton]

Rating: G Summary: Sans treks through the laughterless Ruins to bring Toriel a donut. She has other worries on her mind. (Soriel, Exiled Queen Ending) Word Count: 2449

XXX

Sans is nothing if not a creature of habit. Routine means Not Thinking and Not Thinking means he can pretend everything’s okay for a little longer. 

QC’s bakery is closed. The sheet of paper tacked to the door says her sister caught some kind of bug (metaphorical, unfortunately, or else he’d ask for tips). So no Cinnamon Bunnies he’d planned on gifting Toriel to make up for accidentally sleep-shortcutting into her bedroom last night.

(That better not become a habit. For someone who snores so hard, she’s quick to jump awake, fireballs in hands. She wouldn’t hit him on purpose, and bone’s not particularly flammable, but still.)

Habit. He’s not been on the other side of the door long enough to build new ones, yet, though he will. He has before. Not the first time his life’s up and uprooted like a grinning Vegetoid, and at least this time there are familiar places to backtrack to.

Too bad they’re not open.

He sighs, watching the artificial sunlight filter through the golden storefront window, before shortcutting out of the closed shop.

By habit, he almost ends up at Grillby’s before yanking himself back to the Ruins. Can’t throw those dogs a bone. They’ll have too many questions about the Ex-Queen—geez, even about him—and whatever he says’ll end up back to Undyne and he’s not ready for that.

Ruins. The Ruins are safe, for all that they’re unfamiliar. Papyrus would’ve loved exploring the place, with all its rusted traps and spikes.

He shuts his eyesockets for a moment. No habit to keep him on autopilot here. What was he doing again?

Treats. That’s right. Something loaded with sugar that Toriel won’t have to bake herself. Conveniently, his off-kilter shortcut landed him in the room with the bowl of candy… but pilfering the sweets she’d left out for the Froggits and Whimsuns just to give them back to her is too lazy of an apology, even for him.

Speak of the devils. A pair of Froggits and one shaking Whimsun hop-and-flutter through the door. The moth-like monster bursts into tears at the sight of him, fleeing back into the hall.

“Huh. That’s a first.” His grin tightens. “Normally pals wait to cry until after the joke.”

“Ribbit, ribbit,” one Froggit’s face-mouth croaks.

“(Joke?)” the mouth hidden in the shadows of its belly translates. Different from the Final Froggits Sans is used to, whose two mouths tend to speak in harmonizing tandem. “(I don’t understand.)”

Man. Tough crowd.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it.” He shrugs his hands into his hoodie pockets. “Not everyone’s got a funny bone.”

Not even a groan at that. Just a couple of low, cricket-like croaks.

How has Toriel survived so long with this kind of audience? He can feel the humor leaking out his humerus already.

The Froggits are still staring at him. Warily.

“You know anywhere to get some grub around here?” he finally asks, because the silence is threatening to suffocate him and shortcutting around still-mostly-uncharted territory is a great way to spring one of those centuries-old traps. Just walking until he finds something is out of the question, of course. The Ruins are huge, and his legs aren’t.

“Ribbit…” “(Grub…?)”

Right. They’ve been stuck here as long as Toriel, with even less contact with the outside world. 

“Food,” he translates. Though Toriel would probably appreciate literal grubs, too, considering her bug-hunting hobby.

“Ribbitttttt.” “(Ohhh. Spider bake sale. Go out and make a left, then keep going until you reach the end of the hall.)”

He has no idea how far that is, so. Walking. Fun.

“‘Preciate it.”

His slippers scuff across the lavender stone, and he can feel all four pairs of eyes follow him out. Normally he only minds stairs, not stares. But for some reason it makes his vertebrae shiver.

Maybe it was just that Whimsun. The sudden crying, before he could even get a word out… he’s not used to that. 

He’s not used to silence. He’s used to laughter and warmth and explosions and booming cries of “SANS PICK UP YOUR SOCK!” He’s used to being at the beating heart of wherever he is—lab or town or bar or, or. Maybe no one needs him, but they like him and want him and he wants them and he never realized how much being alone sucks.

And this is how Toriel’s been living. For centuries.

Maybe she likes it this way, he rationalizes, but he’s heard the excitement in her voice every time he arrived at the door, the faintest longing whisper any time he mentioned his brother or friends. He doesn’t know her at all, and he knows her too well to believe that.

The thoughts buzz in his skull up until his foot plunges through a false veneer of stone. 

Normally, he has a healthy respect for puzzles, for all that they’re not really his heritage to claim. Today, as he lands face-down in a leafpile, all he can muster is a flat annoyance. 

Maybe he could shortcut back to Toriel’s house and restart from there. But ironically, he doesn’t have a good enough sense of direction to find the bakesale from that angle. If he even can now that he’s fallen a layer deeper underground…

The leaves are pretty comfy. It’s tempting to just lie here. It’s what his old habits want.

Fortunately—unfortunately?—something chomps down on his ankle.

“Contains Vitamin D,” a Vegetoid says, its voice muffled by the tibia in its mouth.

“Huh. So this’s where the jokers’ve been hiding.” Sans grunts and kicks the sentient vegetable away. “No wonder I didn’t Cal-cium before.”

Cal-see-’em. It’s horrible. He’d bet twenty G he can get Toriel to shoot milk out her nose with it.

“Plants Can’t Joke Dummy,” the Vegetoid deadpans despite the grin still carved into its face.

Eh, he can’t begrudge it the grin. He knows how having a one-note facial expression goes. Couldn’t it have at least given him a pity “heh,” though?

“Nah, Dummy’s in a different room,” he glibs despite knowing it won’t get him any results.

“Eat Your Greens,” it replies unrelatedly as he checks the puzzle explanation on the sign and treks back up the stairs.

Ugh. Stares and stairs. They really should just close the curtain on him today.

This time, he pays more attention to the terrain, and makes it to the bake sale with only a few more awkward encounters. 

(He hadn’t meant to pick on Loox. He doesn’t pull out the eye trick for just anyone. It isn’t his fault the optical monster had chosen to interpret it as an insult rather than a flashy display of solidarity.)

He blinks at the bake sale prices on the signs. Only seven G for a donut here? Maybe that’s a reasonable price, but Muffet’s Hotland stand was as much of a ripoff as his fried snow. When the Froggit mentioned spiders, he’d expected to have to haggle or barter his way into some baked goods—which was always a good time, with Muffet. She understood the art of a good deal and if she swindled him a bit too much, at least it was going to charity.

Of course, Muffet isn’t here anyway. He doesn’t know what kind of bargaining these spiders would be up for, if any—and considering his track record today, dropping fourteen G in the web is probably his safest bet.

Some spiders crawl down and silently hand him two donuts.

“Pleasure doin’ business with ya,” he says. Habit.

His words echo off of the enclosing walls, topple down like a cave-in. With ya, with ya, with ya. 

Somehow, he hates that even more than the silence.

XXX

Routine is like habit’s second cousin. Close enough to crash family reunions, distant enough to flake out when you need it most.

There’s no routine to coming home, ‘nuts in hand, only to find Toriel sobbing in her armchair.

“Uh,” he grunts, too caught off guard to even curse. 

Toriel doesn’t cry. She didn’t cry when she saw Asgore’s dust, or when Undyne threatened her at spearpoint, or when she stumbled back over the Ruins threshold, blank stare glazing over her mahogany eyes. And Sans—well, he can’t cry, no ducts to pump out saltwater with, so he doesn’t—doesn’t know what to do. 

Now that’s an understatement.

“Spider ‘nut?” he offers weakly, because food never made anything worse.

A wheeze cuts through her sob. She shakes her head, but waves him over. 

Mixed messages, here.

“I was gonna get ya a cinnabun,” he approaches with soft steps, “but QC was closed today.”

Toriel wipes her face. Her hands are shaking; her claws leave thin trails in the fur above her brow.

“Of course. Of course, that’s all it was.” Her laugh cracks over the words.

“Huh?” Another step closer. 

He wishes he weren’t holding donuts; he’d like to take her hands, pull them away from her face before her claws decide they want to dig in any deeper. He’s not sure that’d be welcome, anyway, after the scare he gave her last night.

“Ap…apologies,” she murmurs. “I… s-so pathetic…”

“Hey.” His browbone scrunches a little. “Not sure what you’re goin’ on about, but I won’t judge. There’s do-nuthin’ to be ashamed of.”

After all of today’s failures, he almost expects it to fall flat, but this is Toriel he’s talking to. A wet bleat interrupts her tears—and boy, that’s a lot of snot. He’s impressed. 

“O-oh dear…” She stares down at her slimy hands.

He shuffles the donuts to the dining table so his hands are free, then shrugs out of his hoodie. 

“Here.” He offers it to her, and she blinks down at him sharply.

“What—no, Sans—”

“‘S due for a wash anyway.”

He drapes the hoodie over her hands before she can protest any further. Too late, he hopes she wasn’t protesting because she wanted something cleaner to wipe her hands on. Oh well.

“...Thank you.” She clutches the garment tightly.

Something squeezes in his ribcage. They’re both staring, and trying to pretend they’re not, and the fireplace is cold so the only thing he can hear is her still-somewhat-congested breathing.

“You, uh. Want me to give you some space…?” he finally asks.

“No,” her answer is quicker and firmer than he expected. “No, please. Stay.”

He nods. Then, hoping he’s not pushing his luck, he hauls himself up onto the arm of her broad chair. His legs hang off the side, his back pressed to her shoulder.

“Now ya won’t have to break your neck lookin’ down at me,” he rationalizes away the touch.

“How thoughtful.” She smiles with a wet snort. 

Her hands tangle deeper into his crumpled hoodie. Her claws are retracted now, though. He’s pretty sure she won’t poke any holes in it. Not that he’d mind if she did.

“I… thought you…” she inhales a shaky breath, “I thought you had left.”

“Yeah, I went out to get snacks and—oh.” He blinks. “You thought I—why?”

She’d thought he left. For good. Not even that he was gone, which could’ve implied she thought a stray Froggit offed him for one of his bad jokes. That he could’ve understood. But left, on purpose?

Nope. Not happening. She’d have to throw him out the doors and recast the seal if she wanted to get rid of him.

“I—I nearly hurt you last night…” she trails off, brows furrowed. 

“Yeah, ‘cause I sleepwalked into your room.” Sleepwalked? Sleptwalked? Technically it was sleep-shortcutted, so. Whatever. “That’s, uh, what the apology ‘nuts were for.”

Stupid walking with his stupid legs. He must’ve taken even longer than he’d thought if Toriel had thought he wasn’t coming back.

“Of course. Of course.” Another weak laugh. “I have been falling apart over nothing…”

“I’ll leave a note next time,” he says lightly, but he means it. 

He knew he meant a lot to her, but this—geez, this scares him. And thrills him, in a messed-up way that sends guilt itching at his collarbones. Someone does still want him, and that someone happens to be the funniest, sweetest, most incredible monster in the Underground. Staying with her was the easiest decision he’s ever made.

The thing is, where he stays is rarely his decision. Not with his luck. If anything happens to him, and she thinks he left by choice—

He just. Won’t think about that. Honestly, he may look as tough as wet cardboard, but he’s not gonna fall down to any Froggit or Loox. 

(And if any twist of fate tries to drop him somewhere new again—he’ll fight and claw with all the determination he doesn’t have. He’ll try.)

(It’s the best he can do.)

He burrows his hand into the hoodie with hers, because the joke he has in mind doesn’t work without touching her palm. That’s the only reason.

“Tori. I’m sticking with you.” 

She looks up, and her hand twitches. Still sticky.

“Snot like you can get rid of me that easy,” he says, in case the first quip was too subtle.

And there it is again, that laugh he lov—likes. 

(Cherishes. Adores. Wants to bottle and put on everything like ketchup.)

“Thank you, Sans. I am… sorry you had to see me like that,” Toriel says, having mostly recovered. He can’t feel her shoulder trembling against his back anymore.

“Hey, like I said. No judgment here.” He shifts, bumping his shoulder against hers with a grin. “What’re friends for?”

After a blink, a warm smile spreads across her face, uncovering the two sharp teeth poking down from her upper lip. 

“They are for worrying me silly, apparently.” 

He’s about to apologize when she cups the side of his face, hand still sticky. Her thumb brushes the curve of his cheekbone.

“Also, for making me laugh, and smile, and apologizing for things that are not his fault, and being kinder than I remembered was possible.”

“Uh-uh…” he blushes, warm and blue under her touch. His brain is short-circuiting a little, and it shows in the embarrassingly flimsy joke he comes up. “I know you are, but what am I?”

She laughs anyway. She always does. It’s enough to make up for every silent Froggit and Whimsun and Loox in the Underground.

“You are awfully handsome in that shade of blue,” she answers, and his brain’s short-circuit goes into full power outage—

Only to explode like Gyftmas lights when she presses her lips to the side of his skull, her protruding teeth scraping slightly in a way that makes him shiver. 

That’s something he could stand to make a habit.

[gabriel-agreste-has-no-rights]

I keep forgetting to post this here. anyway my s3 post-desperada divergent ladrien multichapter is finally done wooooo