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#You know he's a keeper when he's both god and a wet kitten
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I'm stuck between interpreting Kalecgos as all knowing and all powerful Aspect, giant building-destroying lizard, awkward gangly lizard, and very small female ginger cat.
IDFK he just seems like a little ball of pure rage sometimes. Like, ya man found out that his ex created a woman who he then fell in love with and his response was to attempt to murder said ex, despite the fact that killing that ex would result in the wrath of that ex's current partner, who could set him on fire.
It's like how my tiny ginger kitty tries to fight our large black cat despite the fact that the black cat's human (not me, lmao, Grace only loves him) will get angry at her.
This makes Khadgar my high anxiety keeshond with no chill who is the real owner of the smol floofball EDIT: RIP Grace (large black cat), we miss you :(
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txemrn · 4 years
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Hey, sweet friends!
I inadvertently took a smidge of a step back from writing thanks to real life (you all can relate!). Between Covid relief (9 months later *wink*wink* 🤰🏼🤰🏼🤰🏼) and a crazy ❄⛄SNOW⛄❄ storm here in Texas, writing took that metaphorical backseat.
But I'm here, and I've got some WIPs I'd love to share with y'all...  who's ready for WIP Wednesday?  Click "Keep Reading" to enjoy five bits of fics I've been writing (the fourth and fifth are bonuses that I have NO idea when they will be released; they are for your amusement, to tease you a bit *shrugs* or something like that).
Before I continue... @lucy-268 @anjanettexcordonia @ao719 @bbrandy2002 @shannonsaid @khoicesbyk @shewillreadyou @irisofpurple @lem-20 what are y'all working on?
The Missionary’s Daughter (Chapter 1--Name TBD; TRR) 🍋
Halos of blurred auras bleach his vision as Drake cautiously opens one blood-shot eye. His tongue sticks to the roof of his roughly parched mouth as he massages his pained forehead. Clueless of what day it is--much less what he did last night--he is greeted with a sudden glorious sensation: a supple wet mouth on his hardened morning length.
His body relaxes back onto the dampened, disheveled sheets of his bed; he releases a pleasurable exhale as he blindly reaches for the head behind the lips. He strains to focus his view, but can only make out a foggy shape of a nude woman with long, tousled brunette waves.
Of course, it’s her.
Drake smiles; delicately tangling his grip in her strands, he admires how even the afternoon sun catches her beauty perfectly. He quietly smacks his lips. He can still smell her on his stubble; he can still taste her on his tongue.
Did she come clean to Liam? Were they celebrating that they could finally be together?
As she takes in the head of his girth, he arches his back, relaxing his body into her hungry touch. Closing his eyes, he offers a guttural groan deep in his chest as she swirls her tongue around his firm thickness.
“God, you’re incredible, Riley--”
------------------------------- Caroline (Chapter 3--Name TBD; TNA/OH crossover)
"Hello? Anyone here?" Her voice echoes throughout the Dalton penthouse as she pushes the stroller further into the living room.
A stirring Mason catches her attention as she cautiously bends over to settle him down.
"It's okay, um--" she looks at his monogrammed onesie for his name, "--’Mason’. Come here, sweet boy," she snuggles him into her neck, soothing him with gentle rubs and taps on his back. "There, there."
"Sof?"
The platinum blonde instantly twirls around to face the deep voice as she grips tightly around Mason.
"Oh, Sam--" she sighs with a forced laugh. "You scared me--"
"Is Caroline with you?" he stutters as he finishes his whiskey neat.
"No, um--" she bounces Mason on her hip, averting her eyes to a yawning Mickey. "She--she should be back sometime this evening though. I--I don't know--"
"Is--" he interjects, his voice growing husky, "--is Robin here?" Sofia feels the prickling of a thousand goosebumps ignite across her body as Sam's hand glides across her lower back. She clears her throat, stepping away from him.
"C'mon, my little munchkins," she joyfully chimes to the twins as she gathers Mickey into her arms. She sits them softly into their play pin, tossing each of them a musical toy.
As she stands back up, Sam grips tightly to the curve of her hips
"Sam--!" she gasps as he intimately runs his hands across her abdomen to rest on her voluptuous breasts. Her eyes flutter shut; she nibbles on her lips as he nuzzles his nose into her neck. She feels him grow against her backside.
"Sam, please--"
"'Please' what, kitten?"
"Ugh--" she scoffs as she throws his hands off of her body. "We said that the last time would be our last--"
"Please, Sofia, " he stops her in her tracks, "I need--" his lip trembles; liquor dances on his tongue as he leans closer to her dangerous curves. "I need--"
"--your wife."
"Fuck!" He abruptly throws himself onto the couch, raking his hands through his thick, tousled hair.
"I'm losing her, Sof." He leans back on the couch as Sofia cautiously sits next to him. Heated tears streak down his chiseled face as he plays with his wedding band. He lowers his voice as he chokes on his sobs.
"I think I've lost her. "
-------------------------- Boughs & Mockingbirds (Part 5; TRR/TRH)
After modeling three dresses, Hana twirls out in a dreamy white ball gown with a flattering fitted-bodice. The ornate gold filigree bead-work brought out her natural ethereal tones, instantly brightening and highlighting her gorgeous, exotic features.
“Hana--!” Riley spits out her sparkling water. “Oh-- oh my God!”  With a stunned-look plastered on her face, she jumps from her bed, skipping quickly to her floor-length mirror. “Look at you!”
“I’m guessing this is a keeper?” Hana giggles as she walks on her tip-toes, envisioning the dress with her new shoes.
“Uh, yeah!” Riley squeals, twirling Hana’s silky hair into a make-shift up-do to show off her bare skin. Biting her lower lip, she lowers her voice to whisper into her friend’s ear: “Not to mention, a certain ‘Maxwell the Glorious’ won’t be able to keep his hands off of you.”
“Riley! You’re wicked! We’re just--” she blushes while shrugging her shoulders, “--um, friends.”
“I’m pregnant, not stupid,” she jokingly chides. “These past few weeks with the book tour, I’ve noticed you two becoming quite the dynamic duo.”
Hana falls silent; she mindlessly admires the beading of her white gown with her fingers as a joyous smile crawls across her face. Her bright, brown eyes pierce into Riley’s as she slowly nods.
“He’s pretty great--”
“I knew it!” Riley grabs Hana’s hands as they dance recklessly in a circle, laughter filling the room.
“Oh, you’re gonna dance with somebody--” Riley sings, purposely changing the lyrics to jest with her best friend.
“I’m gonna feel the heat with somebody--” Hana cups her mouth, laughing at herself with what she just sang.
“’Heat’?” Riley howls. “Ow! Ow! Now who’s being wicked?” They both grab their bellies as their sides ache from their silliness and excitement.
“Oh gosh,” Riley strains to breathe, “Thank you, Hana. I haven’t laughed like this in--”
“Oh my God! Riley?” Hana’s voice suddenly drips with panic. “Your nose--” ------------------------ Fractals (Bonus wannabe series; crossover of Platinum/TRR; I have fantasized about this series for probably 8 MONTHS, and I finally took off writing a chapter; this is a smidge of that chapter, and this series will come, at the earliest, after B&MB)
“Here’s to living in the headlines,” she mutters to herself, offering her glass as a toast in the air.  She tosses the rest of her drink back. The bartender quickly replenishes the alcohol as she digs frantically in her oversized Dior bag.  Pulling out a lone cigarette, she sets it neatly between her teeth as she searches for a lighter.
“Miss?” a soft, baritone voice calls to her, but floats away as she continues to sift through her purse.  The gentleman clears his throat in hopes of catching her attention. “Pardon me, miss?” His thick, European-influenced accent is more apparent this time, but still she doesn’t notice.
“Excuse me, miss--?”
“What?” She interrupts angrily as she hastily swivels in her barstool, knocking her bag and its contents on the floor. “Shit--!”  she clumsily fumbles to the floor to gather her belongings.
“Here; let me help--”
“You’ve done enough, sir--” she cuts off the young man as she madly shoves tubes of makeup, magazines, loose coins and scrunchies back into her satchel. She looks around the floor for any wayward items when she notices something black being offered to her.
“Miss?”
Looking up, she finally takes notice of the man behind the voice. And freezes. The electricity of his presence overwhelms her fragile senses. He offers her a bright, charming smile, creating dimples that soften his chiseled bone structure. A sensual aura of citrus, guaiac wood and leather dance across his coastal skin as sun rays illuminate brightly from his wavy blond hair. 
She gradually stands along with him, her brilliant jade eyes locked into his striking baby-blues. His strong physique impressively towers over her petite frame. She admires his handsomely neat demeanor of pressed dark-wash denim with a light heather-gray sports coat.
“Hi,” she manages to squeeze out as her mouth confuses between dropping and smiling.
“Hello,” he chuckles with a smile. “Pardon me, but I do believe you, um--well, you, uh--,” he pauses as he glances towards his outstretched arm, “you dropped these.”
Regretfully breaking her trance from his hypnotic gaze, the color quickly drains from her face as the feeling of horror crawls across her porcelain skin. Her crotchless, black-lace g-string tangled effortlessly between his fingers.
“Oh-- oh my God!” she shrieks as she reaches to grab and hide them; but unfortunately, the missing gusset between the leg bands, snags on his gold signet ring, leaving his first two fingers hung on the crotchless portion of the thong.
“I must say,” his eyes twinkle as he laughs harder at her incessant efforts to detangle the fabric from his hands, “I didn’t realize getting into a woman’s undergarments would be quite this easy--” ------------------------- Title TBD (TNA Valentine’s Day: First vs. Last... this is in the Once...Always... Universe, and I just couldn’t get it finished before Valentine’s day. So! It will be coming out on another random holiday lol)
Reaching for the doorbell, she catches her reflection in the apartment number brass plate. And panics.
Oh, God! I--he can’t see me like this!
It has been nine months since Brynn caught her husband cheating on her with their daughter Olivia’s nanny. With the story hitting every gossip column and news channel, multiple women came forward with their private trysts with Sam over the years; however, most of their stories will never be heard thanks to the family’s heavy payouts for their silence.
Sam and Brynn’s divorce was finalized five months ago, two days before baby Charlotte was born.  Despite the scandal, his lies and his betrayal, Brynn wars with her feelings towards Sam.  He was the love of her life; even though he broke his vows, she never dreamed of going back on her own. He made his choice; he didn’t want to be with her the moment he chose to have his extramarital affairs. But, everyday life without him by her side is awful, like living a horrible nightmare. Her heart flutters around him, missing him terribly, but her brain begs her to stop.
Brynn pinches her cheeks to life as she swipes on a rosy color of gloss on her pout. She finger combs her almond tresses into a low ponytail, ensuring the wayward wisps are hidden.
The door suddenly opens, catching Brynn by surprise.
“Mommy!” A curly-chestnut hair Olivia dashes to Brynn with open arms.
“My baby girl!” Instantaneously, she welcomes her oldest daughter into her arms, pulling her up onto her hip for a sweet hug and tender kiss. “Did you have fun with Daddy?”
“Uh-huh,” she beams, “Look what I made you!”  As she pulls out a bright pink homemade Valentine, Sam steps around the door with baby Charlotte in his arms.
“Princess--” he whispers in a deep, syrupy voice, “what do you say?”
“Oh, yeah!” her chocolate brown eyes brighten to her mom, “Happy ‘Valentime’s’ day, Mommy!”
“Happy Valentine’s day, baby girl!” Brynn squeezes Olivia into a tight embrace while she presses her lips into her cheeks. “C’mon, let’s get your things.”  
As Brynn glances back at Sam, the wind is abruptly knocked out of her chest as she sees him dressed handsomely in her favorite Armani slate gray suit with soft petal-pink accents. Her eyes stay glued to him as he fastens a sleepy Charlotte into her carrier.  As he stands back up, she notices his tie is crooked.
“May I?” Brynn steps forward, motioning towards his tie.
“Please,” he chuckles, “I miss your meticulous eye--”
They both awkwardly flinch at his words, Brynn focusing on the knot around his neck as Sam clears his throat.
“So--” he attempts to change subjects, “any special plans tonight?”
“Mason and Mickey are out with friends, so it’s just the girls, me, and--”
“Be My Valentine, Charlie Brown,” he interrupts as he flashes an alluring dark look at his ex-wife. He begins to run the back of his fingers sensually down her arms. “Some things don’t change--”
“But--” she glowers at him, tightening his tie close to his neck, “a lot of things have.”
--------------------
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beerecordings · 5 years
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Between Two Houses
Part 16 of My Brother’s Keeper (Part 1 l Previous l Next)
My taglist is a separate post so let me know if you would like to be added or removed. Wow guys I am so damn happy to be posting again :) Let’s do this!!
They’ve all made choices. Jameson, for his part, has had a lot of choices made for him. Maybe even some of the choices he will make are already made for him. He doesn’t know. This is all so much. He thinks he’d like to choose for himself, but he might not get a chance. There’s an itching at the back of his head.
Jameson trembles.
Jameson trembles.
Jameson trembles.
He doesn't know when the shaking first started. He doesn't think he always shook like this, but, then again, sometimes memories go missing in his head. Reflecting, he knows it must have happened somewhere between the day Anti stole him and the day Anti gave him his knives as a present, because by then the only steadiness he could find was with a blade in his hands.
And he was good with a blade in his hands. He was good. He felt a little safer.
He used his knives on Anti, once.
He had been tortured that morning – he remembers the causal offense precisely; he had spent too long outside, a whole three hours instead of two – and he was hiding beneath his cot, frailly coughing blood.
There was an illness in his chest and thick cuts in his ribs and the pain throughout his body was fresh and hot and stinging. He had not eaten in two days. There were times when that great agony became a desperate love for Anti, a desperate attempt to justify the suffering he was in by promising himself that this brotherhood was worth it, but on that night, there was nothing but hatred.
There was nothing but hatred.
Anything is better than this, Jameson decided hollowly, dragging himself out from under his bed and picking up a pair of his knives. Let him kill me. Please, God, let him kill me.
He didn't bother trying to sneak up on him. There was never any point. Anti always knew where he was, what he was doing, what he could do, and often he seemed to see his very thoughts. Jameson's breath rattled thin through his body and he left his room, turned in the empty doorway, and came to stand before Anti at the top of the stairs.
“Hi, Dapper,” said Anti, smiling far too wide.
Jameson threw himself at him like he was insane, frothing blood and saliva, and Anti was corporeal enough to be shoved to the ground. They fought, and for the first few seconds, Jameson felt that they were caught in a fight to the death, the final culmination of all that he had been through discovered in the violent thrashing of his knife and the strength of his hands, but then – but then.
Anti laughed.
Jameson, confused and terrified, tried harder and harder, struck him again and again, brought his knife into his glitching stomach and wailed without sound to see that it did not hurt him, it did not hurt him, it did not even make him flinch; he only laughed, and laughed, and laughed.
They tussled for a long time, Anti smiling and giggling just the same as he did whenever they mock-fought, pushing playfully at him, tugging at his hair, occasionally biting at his wrists or his ears, while Jameson continued trying to stab him. Eventually the younger brother wore himself out. Weeping, wheezing, choking on and slicked in blood, Jameson collapsed into Anti's lap.
And Anti held him, amused, and stroked his hair for a long time while he screamed.
There was never even any punishment. There was never the slightest punishment for that.
Because his fury meant nothing.
His pain meant nothing.
His decision – his choice – his fury – meant nothing.
He fell asleep. Dreamed vaguely of a smiling boy in a red hood.
The next morning, he convinced himself he loved Anti again.
And he trembled.
And trembled.
And trembled.
“Do you always shake like this?” asks Henrik.
He feels like a dead thing. His mouth tastes like dust. He makes no move to answer. Makes no move to sign. Makes no move to look at Henrik.
He's been clammed up for hours now and the doctor is becoming afraid.
“Jameson, can you meet my eyes?” he asks.
Jamie's gaze is fixed on the white door of the spare room like he expects it to catch fire and then charge at him. The overhead light is on, but the blinds of the window behind them are closed, leaving them both streaked with feeble slats of golden light.
“Can you even hear me?” adds Henrik, concerned. “Maybe it's your ears, not your mouth, where the problem is?”
At this, Jameson's mouth curves down ever-so-slightly at the edges and his eyes, just for a moment, flicker over to Henrik's. He reaches up to touch his trembling hand to his bruised throat and gives no reply.
Chase opens the door and Jameson jolts so hard Henrik wonders if he hasn't been shot. He didn't know it was possible for the littlest brother to get any more stiff, but here he is, staring at Chase as though the apocalypse has come wearing a snap-back and a PMA hoodie.
“Poor buddy, still shaking so much,” Chase frowns, closing the door behind him. He carries clean clothes and a glass of water, not that they've been able to get him to drink or eat anything for the past 12 hours. “Do you think this room's making him nervous?”
“What, does this room make you nervous?”
“I don't know. For a spare bedroom, Marvin was kind of territorial about it.”
“Yeah, I think have practiced shit in here. Don't know what. Probably don't want to know what.”
Marvin. The name registers distractedly through the back of Jameson's head. That must be the cat's name. Anti never told him. He was only ever “kitten” or “witch,” and Anti did not entertain questions about him or any of the others.
The drunk – the actor, the gunman – sits down beside him on the black sheets of the bed, and guilt nearly makes Jameson cry.
“How you doing, buddy?” Chase reaches out to wrap a warm arm around Jameson's shoulders and rubs his arm. “How about something to drink, huh? Must be thirsty. Let's get some water in you.”
Jameson's mouth has gone very dry, but not from the mention of water. He is choking on Chase's kindness, on his sweet vanilla and whiskey smell, on the memory of hot black blood pouring out of his heart as he looked up with eyes impossibly forgiving, the memory – oh, oh, is he bleeding now? Jameson swears he feels warm wet blood blossoming against his shoulder, where Chase, kind and loving, is pressed against him –
“Chase, let him go. Chase, you're scaring him. Chase – ”
“Sorry,” cries Chase's panicked voice, and then his arm is gone, and Jameson realizes that he is breathing very hard, his chest moving in rapid, ragged gasps. Chase and Henrik are speaking again, but their voices are far off in the distance, and anyway, he doesn't care what they have to say. He doesn't care about anything anymore. He is frail as the glass that remains when the window is already once-shattered, as stable as a leaf in a hurricane; a thousand emotions have long since overwhelmed him and his heart is very, very broken.
Chase slicked in blood, Henrik chained to a rebar pole, the bright slit in Jackie's arm, and, in the middle of it all, Jameson himself, my fault, my fault, and for all that I have done and failed to do, I still wasn't enough to make him want me at all –
He cannot breathe.
Fury! He's angry and he strikes the bed with his fist. His speaking hands have known blood and the strangled emotion of murder. Guilt! He's ashamed and he cries, reaching up to hide his face from these strangers who have already named him as their own and given him care and protection. Sorrowful! Sorrowful, sorrowful, he has lived every day of his life with a sorrow and a desperation crying inside his chest, and none of it is fair, and none of it is right, and he needs it all to be over.
“Jameson, breathe!” Henrik gives instruction through gritted teeth, standing before his little brother and holding his shoulders. Jameson has stopped responding completely. His hands are on his heart and his blue eyes stare up at the ceiling as he hyperventilates. “Jameson, Jameson, here I am, okay? Chase, maybe you should go – here I am, it's okay. Anti's not here, Liebling. Anti's not here. You're safe. You're safe.”
Anti's not here. Anti's not here. Anti's not here. Jameson hates him, Jameson loves him. Jameson  doesn't know what to feel or say or do. It's one of the first times in his life that the choice – that any choice – has been his to make.
His throat sends throbbing pain up into his head and mouth and down into his back and shoulders. He's growing dizzy from hunger, but Anti wouldn't want him to eat their food. And always, for hours, there has been a scratching at the back of his head, a scratching at the back of his head, a reminder of something he has forgotten – it was important, what was it? It was something Anti told him. It was important. It was an order. It was important. It itches.
“Please,” he says, and it is the softest sign, it is a frailty, his fingers touched to his chin and then drawn quietly away again, and still he cannot meet Henrik's eyes. “Please.”
Please, end this. Please, let me die. Let him kill me. I can't take this. I've done my suffering. Haven't I, doc? Haven't we suffered together? I need this to stop. Get Anti and let him take it all away. Get your syringe and let me drown back into sleep. Get the mask or the cat and let them kill me, and then, if I'm damned, at least I will know where I belong. Let this moment pass. Let this moment pass. Let this moment pa
The moment passes.
And the next, and the next, and the next, and Jameson, wide-eyed and choking, is in the silver river once again, as time, at the call of his shaking hands, rushes faster and faster past him.
Henrik is gone. Chase is gone. Anti, Jackie, Marvin, all washed away.
The water flows over his head and about his body. He stares around him, wide-eyed and knee-deep in something other-worldly.
It's real then, he realizes. Nothing has felt real for hours, the world far away and in dissonance with his panicked harmony, but this – this place feels real, feels right. He lets a hand drift through the cool water. It does not wet his fingers. The pressure is painless. Everything is silent and gentle. Everything is his. It's real, this power. It's real.
For a long time, he only watches, watches, watches, and the river is obedient, and the moment passes. It's strange, how easy it is. He feels, in a way that he has never felt before, that this is something that he was created for, or maybe that it was created for him. Eventually, he sits down on the rocky floor of the riverbed.
Images move past him.
A boy with a red hood. A boy with a cat mask. A boy with a wound in his throat, but not Anti. He can tell from the way he moves. He puts his head in his hands and his elbows on his knees and he watches. Is this someone's memory? The people who have lived in the house where he stays now? Or is it just time?
He sees Henrik and Chase side-by-side, sat next to a bed, their heads turned warmly to each other and their hands close together as they talk, low and easy, until it is late at night. Chase's arms are bandaged. Henrik is pale. Jameson recognizes a survival struggle in their eyes, but he also thinks that's probably what friendship looks like. They smile at each other.
He sees the mask, though his face is not yet scarred, standing in river of his own, picking up rocks from the shore and skipping them skillfully across the water. Every now and then, he looks to the side, where Jameson cannot see, and he laughs, hard and earnest, and answers a voice Jameson cannot hear.
He sees Mr. Jack – no, it is Anti, not Jack. He sees Anti stood in front of a mirror, leaning over a sink, retching. He spasms hard, and for a second, when he looks up, there is terror in his eyes, and Jameson reads on his mouth the words “Who am I?”
He sees the house where he lived with Anti. He sees the house that Marvin made for his brothers. He sees the doctor and the mask and the cat and the gunsman and the demon and Mr. Jack.
He sees himself.
Smiling and earnest.
Shaking and scared.
And he wonders, in all this, between two houses, between the two dogs that have always torn him apart like a wishbone, in all that he has and all that has been stolen from him, just where it is that he's supposed to fit in.
Maybe that's something I'm supposed to figure out for myself.
He realizes he's breathing easy again.
In and out. In and out. In and out.
Maybe that's something... I get to choose?
He feels a little calmer.
A knife in his hands has always made him feel calmer, and though he likes to watch, passively, as the images go by, what he sees first of all in the silver river is the ways it could be wielded to protect himself.
To protect himself and to hurt others.
This is what Anti trained him to do, after all. To be dangerous. To see violence. To use weapons.
And to find Jack, Jameson.
Find Jack.
And lead me to him.
His head really, really itches.
He thinks he probably needs to go back to the world as it was.
He reaches for the watch in his pocket and breathes in deep, his fingers tightening around the stop button, and as he presses it, he catches one more glimpse of time in the water of the silver river.
“Hi,” signs a boy who looks like him, but who is not him, a boy who is not Anti or Jackie or Marvin or Henrik or Chase. He smiles bright. His eyes are very blue.
“Hi,” signs Jack. “Hi, JJ.”
And then they are both gone away.
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chelleaslin · 5 years
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Marichat May 2019 Day 29- Werecat
Marinette would have never believed it if she hadn’t seen it with her own two eyes. There were reports of wild animal attack through out Paris for the last few years. When it first started there were talk of a rapid dog, these rumours were debunked when the police revealed that the hairs found on the mutalated bodies were feline.
New rumour sprung up after that. They’re was talk of one of the big cats from the zoo getting lose, that the keepers didn’t want to get in trouble and tried to bury it. Of course these weren’t true but after the death toll hit 6 deaths, the zoo had to be investigated. Of course all of the animals were accounted for and the gossip died a little after that.
The deaths slowed down for a few weeks, there was one death a week and the nothing. It stayed like that for about two months. All the gossip, rumours and speculation around the deaths disappeared.
Marinette was walking home from school, she had another hard day of not being able to women up and get Adrien Agreste’s attention.
They were giving the option to choose partners at school for a project. Alya and Nino instantly chooses one another, both of them giving Marinette sujestive glances at an oblivious Adrien. She tried her hardest, she called out to him and everything! But Chloe Bourgeois butted her fat head into the conversation and snatched him from right out under her nose.
Marinette growled in the back of her throat as she recalled the event, her frustrations getting the best of her.
Her blood ran cold when she heard a much threatening growled echo down the alleyway from her right. She froze up, she stood at the mouth of the ally but refused to enter it, she couldn’t even convince herself to turn her head and take a peak at whatever made that horrifying sound.
Her mind suddenly flashed back to a few months ago, all the reports of a feral beast, maiming and killing Parisians.
Another sound erupted from the alleyway, it was so inhuman and guttering that Marinettes mind went back even further to late night on Wikipedia pages reading about Beast of Gévaudan, Dispite the fact that she knew the reports said a feline caused the murders, she couldn’t help that her mind automatically went to supernatural creatures, eg. Werewolves.
“H-help.”
“Oh, god.” She gasped, someone was there. Someone was in that alleyway with whatever was in their. They could be hurt or worse, they could be dying. “Hello?” She called back, tears welling up in her eyes as she started to shake, she was terrified.
“M-Marinette?” The weak voice called. Marinettes body went into shook, the person knew her? It took her a beat longer to realise that ment she knew the person. Someone she knew was in danger! That was all it took to the adrenaline to kick in and she was running down the isle.
“Hello, who’s there?” She called out, “where are you?”
She heard another growl that died down into her cough, as the seconds went by the cough sounded more human.
“Mari..” Marinette heard her name called from behind a dumpster. She carefully walked towards it, hyper aware of her surroundings, knowing that the creature could be here somewhere still. She took a step forward and heard an odd sound, she looked down to see a pool of dark red blood beneath her foot. She ripped her foot back in disgust, quickly side stepping the puddle and finally looking around the dumpster.
Her blue eyes widen when she spotted a very familiar head of blonde hair, even if it was covered it blood.
“Adrien!” She gasped, she quickly ran to his aid, dropping to her knees next to his quivering form. “Oh, god, oh, god. Are you okay?” She started to panic for they’re was so much blood. She eyes whipped around wildly, knowing full well that the attacker couldn’t be far.
“I need.. help.” He whispered out.
“What happened? Where’s the wound?” She frantically searched his body. She carefully uncurled himas she checked his face, limps and abdoman but she couldnt seem to find the source of the blood. “Where are you hurt?”
“N-not my blo..blood.” He panted out. Marinettes blue eyes widen as she shuffled back away from him. What did he mean it wasn’t his blood whose blood was it? No one else was here.
Adrien’s jerked forward, his buckled over onto his hands and knees as he started to groan in pain. Marinette furrowed her brows concerned for the boy she held dear in her heart. Even if it wasn’t his blood, he was in pain.
Suddenly he threw his head up as the sound from earlier tore through his throat. Marinette was up on her feet in seconds as she watched in horror as his body started to change. His blinker and in a second his eyes were no longer his eyes, they resembled something like a cats. He hissed and growled as his body started to contort as his bones visibly moved under his flesh, snapping into new positions that shouldn’t have been humanly possible. His skin developed like picks on black hairs that soon spread into patches all over his body, his clothes shredded and tore as his body grew in size.
After a few more seconds suddenly Adrien was no longer here and in his place, a giant cat, it resembled something like a panther but much larger and feraler looking.
She stood up, slowly backing away, the creature turned its head and looked at her. She turned around ready to run when a whine broke out from its throat. It sounded so scared and vunrable that she almost felt sorry for the creature. She turned around to look back down at it in return it looked back up at her, eyes so different yet so familiar.
“Adrien?” Marinette called, hoping that the sweet and gentle boy was still in this beast. The creature never replied, it just walked towards her silently. Marinette tensed up and took a few steps back that caused Adrien to whine again. She froze and stayed in place, wondering was he wanted. Her mind briefly flicked back to all the murders and her heart rate picked up again.
Adrien leaned his large head towards her hand and opened his jaw. This is it Marinette thought, she squeezed her eyes shut and waited.
No bite came. No steering pain or streams of blood.
Instead she felt a large sandpaper-like wetness up her arm. She snapped her eyes open and looked down to see the were cat liking her. She screwed her face up in disgust, finding herself giggling at little at the sensation.
At the sounds of her small laughs, Adrien seemed to perk up. He suddenly rubbed his head agaisnt her abdoman, purring loudly as he did so. Marinette stiffen for a section but quickly settled. If he was going to hurt her, he would have done so now. She looked down at the him as he soaked up attention and affection, he was just like a normal house cat. She hesitatly ran her hand down his head, just to test her theory.
He preened at the sensation and butted his head into her hand like a kitten would. She laughed again, in amazement and disbelief.
“Adrien?” She called as she got on her knees and looked up at him. “Can you transform back? I think we need to talk.” He stared hard at her for a few seconds without reacting. Marinette worries that he could t understand her in this for, but he eventually laid down and the weird transformation that happened earlier started again, only this time backwards until a very naked boy was left in the big beasts place.
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proxylynn · 5 years
Text
Underfell: File Name not Edgy Enough #21
Chapter 21: Fear
WARNING: I WANT NO RESPONSIBILITY OVER SPOILING THINGS FOR OTHERS. THAT BEING SAID, THIS IS HOW FILE NAME NOT FOUND WOULD FUNCTION IN THE AU OF UNDERFELL. BEFORE YOU READ THIS, UNLIKE THE NICE TIME OF UNDERTALE, THIS WORLD IS KILL OR BE KILLED. THIS STORY WILL BE GRAPHIC, GORY, USE SWEARS LIKE NOBODY'S BUSINESS, AND DEAL WITH SENSITIVE SUBJECT MATTERS. FOR EXAMPLE, THOSE OF YOU WHO HAVE READ THE FILE NAME RELOCATED SPOOF WILL KNOW HOW I PICTURE THIS VERSION OF LYNSIE COMING TO THE UNDERGROUND. IT IS NOT AN ACCIDENT. IT IS NOT BECAUSE OF SOMETHING DUMB. IT IS BECAUSE SHE CHOOSES TO END HER LIFE. SO TAKE THIS WITH A GRAIN OF SALT. I MADE IT BECAUSE I NEEDED TO LET SOME OF THIS EDGINESS OUT OF MYSELF. WHICH I GUESS MAKES UNDERFELL LYNSIE EVEN MORE TRUE TO WHO I REALLY AM. ANYWAY, ENJOY. ^_^
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It's nice being back home with Toriel. Minus a few things, it's easy to return to the old routine. Storytime around the fire. Diner table eating with her and Flowey. And just normal non-threatening chitchat that doesn't end with me being hit for some moronic reason. Hell, even sleep was easier to achieve once my head hit the good old pillow. Though for some reason, something didn't feel right. Like there was something left undone or missing that made going to sleep just a wee bit uncomfortable. I don't know. It could be just my weird soul shit acting up or nothing at all. Dumb body with its dumber problems. Yet when slumber came none of that mattered. All that matters is rest and peaceful dreams.
...
That is until a familiar door takes me away and I return to a place that I have been internally dreading. The Void is how it has always been. And the doctor that is its hostage seems to be in an interesting mood as if he's been waiting for me.
"✋❄🕯💧 👌☜☜☠ ✌ 🕈☟✋☹☜📪 ☹✋❄❄☹☜ ⚐☠☜📬" (IT'S BEEN A WHILE, LITTLE ONE.)
I shrug.
"So it has. Time flies when things happen."
"✋☠👎☜☜👎📬 ✡⚐🕆 ☟✌✞☜ 👌☜☜☠ ✈🕆✋❄☜ ❄☟☜ 👌🕆💧✡ ☹✋❄❄☹☜ ❄☟✋☠☝📪 ☟✌✞☜☠🕯❄ ✡⚐🕆✍" (INDEED. YOU HAVE BEEN QUITE THE BUSY LITTLE THING, HAVEN'T YOU?)
"Well, you know. I couldn't just sit around forever. Heh...Be kinda boring for you to see if I did."
"✋ 🕈⚐🕆☹👎☠🕯❄ 💧✌✡ ❄☟✌❄ ☜✠✌👍❄☹✡📬" (I WOULDN'T SAY THAT EXACTLY.)
I tilt my head.
"Oh?"
Gaster chuckles lightly.
"✡⚐🕆 ☟✌✞☜ 💧🕆👍☟ ✌💣🕆💧✋☠☝ ✋☠❄☜☼✌👍❄✋⚐☠💧 🕈☟☜☠ ✋☠❄⚐✠✋👍✌❄☜👎📬 ✋❄🕯💧 ☼☜✌☹☹✡ ✌ 💧☟✌💣☜ ✡⚐🕆 ☟✌✞☜ ☠⚐ 💣☜💣⚐☼✡ ⚐☞ ❄☟☜ ☜✞☜☠❄💧 ⚐☠👍☜ ✡⚐🕆 💧⚐👌☜☼ 🕆🏱📬 ❄☟⚐🕆☝☟ ❄☟☜☼☜ 🕈✌💧 ❄☟✌❄ ⚐☠☜ ❄✋💣☜ ✡⚐🕆 ☼☜👍✌☹☹☜👎 💧⚐💣☜❄☟✋☠☝ ✡⚐🕆 ❄☼✋☜👎 ❄⚐ ☞⚐☼☝☜❄📬 👌🕆❄ 🕈☜ 👍✌☠ 👍☟✌☹😐 ❄☟✌❄ 🕆🏱 ❄⚐ ✋❄ 👌☜✋☠☝ 👌☜👍✌🕆💧☜ ✋❄ ☟✌🏱🏱☜☠☜👎 🕈☟✋☹☜ ✡⚐🕆 ✌☹☼☜✌👎✡ 💧⚐👌☜☼ 💧⚐ ❄☟☜ ✌☹👍⚐☟⚐☹✋👍 ☜☞☞☜👍❄💧 🕈☜☼☜☠🕯❄ ✌💧 💣✋☠👎 ✌☹❄☜☼✋☠☝ ✌💧 🕆💧🕆✌☹📬 💧❄✋☹☹📬📬📬❄☟☜ 💧❄⚐☼✋☜💧 ✋ 👍⚐🕆☹👎 💧☟✌☼☜📬 👌🕆❄ ✡⚐🕆 🕈⚐🕆☹👎 👎⚐🕆👌❄ ❄☟☜✋☼ ✌🕆❄☟☜☠❄✋👍✋❄✡📬" (YOU HAVE SUCH AMUSING INTERACTIONS WHEN INTOXICATED. IT'S REALLY A SHAME YOU HAVE NO MEMORY OF THE EVENTS ONCE YOU SOBER UP. THOUGH THERE WAS THAT ONE TIME YOU RECALLED SOMETHING YOU TRIED TO FORGET. BUT WE CAN CHALK THAT UP TO IT BEING BECAUSE IT HAPPENED WHILE YOU ALREADY SOBER SO THE ALCOHOLIC EFFECTS WEREN'T AS MIND ALTERING AS USUAL. STILL...THE STORIES I COULD SHARE. BUT YOU WOULD DOUBT THEIR AUTHENTICITY.)
Well, he's got me curious, that's for sure.
"You have my interest, sir."
He waves dismissively.
"☠⚐📪 ✋❄🕯💧 🏱☼⚐👌✌👌☹✡ 👌☜💧❄ ❄☟✌❄ ✡⚐🕆 👎⚐☠🕯❄ 😐☠⚐🕈📬" (NO, IT'S PROBABLY BEST THAT YOU DON'T KNOW.)
"Oh, come on. You can't just bait me onto the hook then leave me gasping for breath as I dangle here. Tell me something. Even if it sounds crazy."
A mischievous curl twists his features.
"✌☼☜ ✡⚐🕆 💧🕆☼☜ ✡⚐🕆 ❄☟✌❄🕯💧 🕈☟✌❄ ✡⚐🕆 🕈✌☠❄✍" (ARE YOU SURE YOU THAT'S WHAT YOU WANT?)
I shouldn't fall for such an obvious ploy. But if I didn't, I wouldn't be me and I'd miss out on weird stuff.
"Sir, you take me for someone that is easily befuddled? Nay! Go ahead. Tell me forth your secrets, all knowing and mighty keeper of the Void. Please deliver onto me the unknowns of this world regardless of my limited ability to accept or comprehend them."
He eyes me a moment. And for just a brief second, I would swear there's a hint of a blush to color this man. I guess my words were complimentary enough to get to him yet silly enough to not have it last.
"🕈☜☹☹📬📬📬☼☜💣☜💣👌☜☼ ❄☟☜ ⚐❄☟☜☼ ☠✋☝☟❄ 🕈☟☜☠ ✡⚐🕆 ✌☠👎 💧✌☠💧 🕈☜☼☜ 👎☼✋☠😐✋☠☝✍" (WELL...REMEMBER THE OTHER NIGHT WHEN YOU AND SANS WERE DRINKING?)
Oh boy. Which circle of hell will this lead me into?
"I remember. I mean...I remember some of it. Like the start of the drinking and me telling him about some of the crap that's been happening, like Mettaton calling me. But then it gets muddier than a brown pig lost in a mudslide."
Where am I pulling these weird analogies from? I watch way too many cartoons or not enough. Not sure really.
"❄☟☜☠ ✡⚐🕆 🏱☼⚐👌✌👌☹✡ ☟✌✞☜ ☠⚐ ☼☜👍⚐☹☹☜👍❄✋⚐☠ ⚐☞ 👍☜☼❄✌✋☠ ❄☟✋☠☝💧📬 ✌❄ ⚐☠☜ 🏱⚐✋☠❄📪 ✋ ☼☜💣✋☠👎 ✡⚐🕆 ❄☟✌❄ ❄☟☜ 👌⚐❄☟ ⚐☞ ✡⚐🕆 🕈☜☼☜ ☟✋☝☟☹✡ ✋☠☜👌☼✋✌❄☜👎📪 ✌☠👎 🕈☜☹☹📬📬📬🕆💣📬📬📬✋🕯💣 ☠⚐❄ ☜☠❄✋☼☜☹✡ 💧🕆☼☜ ✋☞ ✋🕯💣 ✌👌☹☜ ❄⚐ 🏱🕆❄ 🕈☟✌❄ ☟✌🏱🏱☜☠☜👎 ✋☠❄⚐ 🕈⚐☼👎💧📬" (THEN YOU PROBABLY HAVE NO RECOLLECTION OF CERTAIN THINGS. AT ONE POINT, I REMIND YOU THAT THE BOTH OF YOU WERE HIGHLY INEBRIATED, AND WELL...UM...I'M NOT ENTIRELY SURE IF I'M ABLE TO PUT WHAT HAPPENED INTO WORDS.)
"Dude, don't hold out on me now."
He thinks for a moment. I take it whatever this secret is that it really is something that's out of his comfort zone. I mean, it does involve Sans and that's his brother, so I can understand the hesitation. This moment of hard thinking comes to an end shortly once he has an idea.
"🏱☜☼☟✌🏱💧 ✋❄ 🕈⚐🕆☹👎 👌☜ 💧✋💣🏱☹☜☼ ❄⚐ 💧☟⚐🕈 ✡⚐🕆 ☼✌❄☟☜☼ ❄☟✌☠ ❄☜☹☹📬" (PERHAPS IT WOULD BE SIMPLER TO SHOW YOU RATHER THAN TELL.)
I am puzzled by this as he brings his left hand up to my face. Suddenly, the hole in his palm swirls with magic before clearing and images appear inside. The scene of me and Sans in his room. We're on his bed and he's laying on top of me, but not in a pervy way, as I trail his spine with my fingers. Suddenly I freeze up and he rolls off of me, laughing as he teleports then returns with a mustard bottle.
"now this is funny. you're so messed up you actually crashed. i haven't seen someone crashed in ages."
He plops down sleepily beside me, already guzzling the bottle.
"i guess this means i win our little game. because this is the last one and i ain't getting any more."
[Rebooting...100% complete.]
[Restarting...now.]
I blink rapidly as life returns to my brain.
"Whoa...Dude...That was trippy as hell."
He snickers.
"just be glad it happened here and not out in town. crashing in public around the wrong people has lead to a lot of easy kills. or so i've been told."
"Wait, so that's a normal thing that happens down here?"
"kind of. like i said, it's been a while since i've seen it happen."
"Then what causes it?"
"no one knows. my guess is that it happens when something clashes with what the person is used to."
He's about to finish off that last bottle when I put my hand out.
"what?"
"Can I have some?"
"no way. this is mine."
"I just want one sip."
"i said no."
"Please? I'll take the remains. I just want something to wet my whistle."
He snorts.
"what are ya? some old-timer in a saloon?"
"What do I need to do to get a sip?"
He pauses for thought.
"well...nah. you'd never do that."
"What?"
He looks at me, then the bottle, and then back to me with a smirk slowly forming.
"how bad do you want some of this?"
I look at him funny.
"don't give me that look. i ain't no perv. i only mean to offer you a dare."
"...I'm listening."
That smirk of his grows.
"i'll let ya have the rest of the bottle, if...you can keep from laughing at one last little joke."
"...That's it?"
"that's it."
"Okay...What's the joke?"
"heh...what do you call a skeleton with benefits?"
I tilt my head and shrug.
"I dunno."
He motions me to lean in closer and doing so lets him whisper in my ear rather huskily.
"a bone buddy~."
I almost giggle but don't. Probably because of the weird 'what the fuck' feeling his tone gave me or the suggestive wink he gives me when he pulls away. Just when I'm about to say something, he starts to snicker and slaps his knee.
"heheheh...oh man...you should see your face right now. oooooh, that was so worth it. here. it's yours."
He hands me the bottle. I just look at him and then the bottle before looking back at him.
"what?"
"Gonna be honest here...I...I can't tell if you were really joking."
He grins like a saucy Cheshire cat.
"maybe i did. or maybe i didn't. the world may never know, kitten. now are ya gonna drink or not?"
This is a weird moment. Yet a rare one. And I look unsure of anything else other than drink.
"Don't make this weird, Sans."
I take the bottle and drink.
"weird? this ain't weird. wanna see something really weird?"
"...You have my attention, good sir."
I eye him funny as sits up and turns his back to me. With no warning he yanks his shorts down, underwear included, and I get a full moon view of his pelvis. This has me dropping the bottle is sheer shock before snickering.
"Oh my god...Is that your coccyx? It's like a little tail! *giggles* That's fucking adorable."
"heh...that ain't even the best part. check this out."
He actually is able to wiggle it and I lose my mind, gripping my sides in laughter.
"Stop...*laughs* That's too...that's too fucking cute!"
He pulls his shorts back up and turns to me with a playful smirk.
"don't lie. ya liked looking at my cute ass."
I settle down enough to breathe properly.
"Dude, you are a cute ass."
He moves closer and removes his shirt.
"how about now? am i still a cute ass?"
I merely smile.
"Now? Now you're just eye candy, sugar bones."
"yeah? ya like what you see, kitten?"
I'm amused by this, as noted by my smirk and coyish way of retrieving the mustard bottle to finish it off completely.
"I can't say that I don't. That's some fine bone structure you got there. Mmmhmm."
He moves in closer as I chuck the empty bottle among the scattered dozen on the floor.
"ya know...you can touch me if you want."
"Yeah?"
"yeah. and who knows..."
He puts a hand on my arm and starts to rub it in a slow yet tender way before having it move up my shoulder then neck to finally rest its caress upon my cheek.
"maybe something more...fun...will happen."
I smirk.
"That's a rather naughty suggestion, bone boy."
"maybe i'm just in a naughty mood."
I nuzzle his hand.
"And here I thought you didn't like me."
He presses his forehead to my own. His eyes hold a hazy look to them.
"i might like you more if you use those soft hands of yours to bone up on more of my anatomy. starting right..."
He takes my free hand and puts it on his manubrium.
"here~."
"Hmmm...Gimme a sec, things are fuzzy, but I'll try."
My thumb grazes the bone above.
"This is the clavicle...The crown that mounts these lovely ten ribs and their two floaty ones."
My fingers scroll down the full length of the center of his chest.
"Under the manubrium is the angle, then the body, and ends in the xiphoid process. And that makes up this beautiful bundle we call the sternum."
I kiss his manubrium and he shudders.
"*groan* fuck..."
I glace at him funny.
"Sans?"
It happens so fast. His mouth is on mine...and I'm not pulling away. After a few seconds, he pauses the kiss. His hazy eyes stare into my befuddled orbs. Not getting any reaction, negative wise at least, he leans in and starts the kiss again. It seems fairly tame at first, his hands slowly feel up my neck and cup my cheeks. But then it gets more heated, he grabs a fistful of hair in the back of my head and growls lowly. I break the kiss in a whimper.
"what's wrong?"
"*wince* Too tight."
Surprisingly, he eases his grip.
"don't be afraid to tell me if i get too rough."
He presses his skull to my forehead.
"you okay with this? what i'm doin' and all?"
I shrug.
"I guess."
"good...good...*sigh* i don't wanna hurt ya. i want ya to like it."
His hand in my hair begins kneading my scalp, making me purr and him smile.
"i want ya to feel good. like...like how ya make me feel."
I grin like a doofus.
"I make you feel good? Awww...You flatterer."
He smirks.
"ya know how you wanted me to feel better? well...i need your help doin' that."
"You do?"
"yeah."
"But what about..."
"shhhhh..."
He nuzzles his way to my ear.
"trust me, we're gonna have a great time~. ya do trust me...don'tcha, lynsie?"
I shiver in his hold as he leaves little kisses along my jaw.
"I do."
He doesn't waste time after that, pushing me over and pinning me beneath him, captured by his relentless affection. Hungry kisses, gripping fingers that claw, and all done without a single care.
"mmmmmm...purr for me, kitten~...i wanna hear how much you're lovin' it~."
"*moan* Sans~..."
The sounds, raw yet sweet. It's so strange. He's more active in this moment than anyone sees him move in a week. Between the lavished kissing, his hands exploring thin skin to feel bone, and his legs trying comfortably keep me pinned, he's putting way more effort than me. For what little I do, my hands timidly try to find a place to hold him but linger only for fleeting moments since the contact made has him groaning. Though as more time passes, some sounds get louder than others and movement grinds to a halt. A more normal sound is heard admixed his pleasure. Snoring. Sans hears it too and stops his fooling around. It appears as though I passed out. Either from the alcohol or overwhelming heat of the moment, who knows. His figurative toy's batteries now in recharge mode, he calls it quits on anymore fun.
"heh heh...not bad, lightweight. lasted longer than i thought. was hoping for more but..."
Not about to pass up a new bed accessory, Sans makes himself cozy on my chest and nuzzle my boobs.
"this works too. *coo* ya really do make a good pillow~."
His sockets close and he yawns into a sigh, time for his own sleep.
Gaster pulls his hand away and I am blushing the same level of red as his sweater's collar.
"And that...That legit happened? For really real? This isn't some fucked up mind manipulative magic to make me see shit...right?"
He sighs.
"✋ 👎✋👎 🕈✌☼☠ ✡⚐🕆📬 👌🕆❄ 👎⚐ ☼☜💣☜💣👌☜☼ ❄☟✌❄ 👌⚐❄☟ ⚐☞ ✡⚐🕆 🕈☜☼☜☠🕯❄ ✋☠ ❄☟☜ 💧⚐🕆☠👎☜💧❄ ⚐☞ 💣✋☠👎💧☜❄💧📬" (I DID WARN YOU. BUT DO REMEMBER THAT BOTH OF YOU WEREN'T IN THE SOUNDEST OF MINDSETS.)
Things start to click in my head...and not in a good way. Why? Why didn't I fight that? What about Grillby? Where was he in my mind during all this?! The fuck is wrong with me?! And Sans...Sans!
"That son of a bitch!"
My snap is so sudden that it actually makes Gaster jump slightly.
"He gets all up in my ass over even the smallest hint of Grillby and me being a thing, then does this bullshit? Fuck that! I am so giving him a piece of my mind!"
"👌☜☞⚐☼☜ ✡⚐🕆 👎⚐📪 ✋❄ 🕈⚐🕆☹👎 🏱☼⚐👌✌👌☹✡ ☟☜☹🏱 ❄⚐ 😐☠⚐🕈 ❄☟✌❄ ☟☜ 👎⚐☜💧☠🕯❄ ☼☜💣☜💣👌☜☼ ❄☟☜ ☜✞☜☠❄💧 ⚐☞ ❄☟✌❄ ☠✋☝☟❄ ☜✋❄☟☜☼📬" (BEFORE YOU DO, IT WOULD PROBABLY HELP TO KNOW THAT HE DOESN'T REMEMBER THE EVENTS OF THAT NIGHT EITHER.)
I fume.
"Oh well, that's just great. That's fucking fantastic! So he gets to be normal and not have a damn clue, all while I get to walk around knowing he came on to me, but I can't say a god damn...thing...oh...oh shit!"
Slowly that starts to sink in and when it does, it's not pretty.
"☟🕆💣✌☠✍" (HUMAN?)
"Oh my god!"
"🏱☹☜✌💧☜ 👍✌☹💣 👎⚐☠🕈📬" (PLEASE CALM DONW.)
"Calm down?! Your brother was doing stuff to me, and most likely, wanted to fuck me! I mean, that's fucked up considering a lot of our history has been him wanting me to leave him the hell alone. How does that even work?"
"🕈☜☹☹📬📬📬" (WELL...)
"No, I mean, for real, how would that even be possible between us? I saw his ass. Granted, it is very adorable, as drunk me put it. But he doesn't have...you know...stuff down there. Does he?"
"❄☟✌❄🕯💧 ☠⚐❄ ☟⚐🕈 💧😐☜☹☜❄⚐☠💧📪 ❄⚐ 🏱🕆❄ ✋❄ ✋☠ ✡⚐🕆☼ 🕈⚐☼👎💧📬📬��☞🕆👍😐📬" (THAT'S NOT HOW SKELETONS, TO PUT IT IN YOUR WORDS...FUCK.)
"It's not?"
"☠⚐📬" (NO.)
"Huh...So there's no chance of there being a dick there but made of bones? Because there are creatures with bones in their penises."
"☞⚐☼ ❄☟☜ ☹⚐✞☜ ⚐☞ ☝⚐👎📪 💧❄⚐🏱 ☼✋☝☟❄ ☠⚐🕈 👌☜☞⚐☼☜ ✌☠⚐❄☟☜☼ 💧✋👍😐 🕈⚐☼👎 👍⚐💣☜💧 ⚐🕆❄ ⚐☞ ✡⚐🕆☼ 💣⚐🕆❄☟✏" (FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, STOP RIGHT NOW BEFORE ANOTHER SICK WORD COMES OUT OF YOUR MOUTH!)
I don't think I could've imagined a time in my life where I'd see Gaster as flustered as he is now. His skull is glowing as bright as a roman candle and his eyes, while giving me that "what the fuck is wrong with you" look, are wide with embarrassment. Needless to say, I'm surprised but I get why he's upset.
"Okay, calm down, doctor. I meant no disrespect. As we are ones with curious minds, do forgive me for thinking unorthodox thoughts when it comes to you and your siblings' anatomy. I know not how you function and my lack of understanding tends to let my imagination fill in the gaps. Please, accept my humblest of apologies."
I bow my head in forgiveness and that seems to settle him a little bit.
"✋❄📬📬📬✋❄🕯💧 ☞✋☠☜📬 ✡⚐🕆 👎⚐☠🕯❄ 😐☠⚐🕈 ✌☠👎 ✋ 👍✌☠🕯❄ ☜✠🏱☜👍❄ ✡⚐🕆 ❄⚐ 😐☠⚐🕈 ☜✞☜☼✡❄☟✋☠☝📬 ☺🕆💧❄ 👎⚐ ❄☼✡ ❄⚐ ❄☟✋☠😐 ☞✋☼💧❄ 👌☜☞⚐☼☜ ✡⚐🕆 💧🏱☜✌😐 🕈☟☜☠ ✋❄ 👍⚐💣☜💧 ❄⚐ 💧🕆👌☺☜👍❄💧 ☹✋😐☜ ❄☟✋💧📬" (IT...IT'S FINE. YOU DON'T KNOW AND I CAN'T EXPECT YOU TO KNOW EVERYTHING. JUST DO TRY TO THINK FIRST BEFORE YOU SPEAK WHEN IT COMES TO SUBJECTS LIKE THIS.)
"Yes, sir."
He moves as if he aims to take a seat, but there is nothing here aside from us. Yet to further ruin my understanding of how things work, he's sitting as if he's on a chair. So many things in my brain break from this and I hate it.
"☺🕆👎☝✋☠☝ ☞☼⚐💣 ✌☹☹ ❄☟✋💧📪 ✋ 💧☜☜ ❄⚐☼✋☜☹ ☟✌💧 ☹☜☞❄ ⚐🕆❄ ☜✞☜☠ 💣⚐☼☜ ✋☠☞⚐☼💣✌❄✋⚐☠ ❄☟✌❄ ✡⚐🕆 💣✌✡ ⚐☼ 💣✌✡ ☠⚐❄ ☠☜☜👎 ❄⚐ 😐☠⚐🕈 👌🕆❄ 💧☟⚐🕆☹👎 💧❄✋☹☹ 👌☜ ✌🕈✌☼☜ ⚐☞📬" (JUDGING FROM ALL THIS, I SEE TORIEL HAS LEFT OUT EVEN MORE INFORMATION THAT YOU MAY OR MAY NOT NEED TO KNOW BUT SHOULD STILL BE AWARE OF.)
"Yeah, she tends to do that."
I plop down on the floor. No way I have the power to sit in nonresistant chairs.
"✞☜☼✡ 🕈☜☹☹📬 ✋ 💧☟✌☹☹ ❄☜☹☹ ✡⚐🕆 ⚐☞ ❄☟✋💧 💧⚐☹☜☹✡ 💧⚐ ❄☟✌❄ 👍✌☠ ✌✞⚐✋👎 ☜☠👍⚐🕆☠❄☜☼✋☠☝ 💧🕆👍☟ 👌☜☟✌✞✋⚐☼ ✋☠ ❄☟☜ ☞🕆❄🕆☼☜📬 ☹☜💧💧 ✡⚐🕆 ✌☠👎 💧✌☠💧 ☝☜❄ ✋☠❄⚐ ✌☠⚐❄☟☜☼ ☼⚐🕆☠👎 ⚐☞ 👎☼⚐🕈☠✋☠☝ ✡⚐🕆☼💧☜☹✞☜💧 ✋☠ 👍⚐☠❄✌💣✋☠✌❄☜👎 👍⚐☠👎✋💣☜☠❄💧📬" (VERY WELL. I SHALL TELL YOU OF THIS SOLELY SO THAT CAN AVOID ENCOUNTERING SUCH BEHAVIOR IN THE FUTURE. LESS YOU AND SANS GET INTO ANOTHER ROUND OF DROWNING YOURSELVES IN CONTAMINATED CONDIMENTS.)
"Which surely won't happen again for any discernible reason whatsoever."
He sighs to himself, probably regretting this whole conversation more than he thought he would.
"✌☠✡🕈✌✡📬📬📬🕈☟☜☠ ✋❄ 👍⚐💣☜💧 ❄⚐ ❄☟☜ 🏱☟✡💧✋👍✌☹ ☠✌❄🕆☼☜ ⚐☞ 🕆💧 💣⚐☠💧❄☜☼💧📪 ❄☟☜☼☜ ✌☼☜ ❄🕈⚐ ☝☼⚐🕆🏱💧 💣⚐☠💧❄☜☼ ☞✌☹☹💧 ✋☠❄⚐📬 ❄☼✌👎✋❄✋⚐☠✌☹ ✌☠👎 ☠⚐☠❄☼✌👎✋❄✋⚐☠✌☹ ☞⚐☼💣💧📬 ❄☼✌👎✋❄✋⚐☠✌☹ ☞⚐☼💣☜👎 💣⚐☠💧❄☜☼💧 ☟✌✞☜ 👌⚐👎✋☹✡ ✌☠✌❄⚐💣✡ 💧✋💣✋☹✌☼ ❄⚐ 🕈☟✌❄ ✡⚐🕆 💣✋☝☟❄ 👌☜ 🕆💧☜👎 ❄⚐ ⚐☠ ❄☟☜ 💧🕆☼☞✌👍☜📬 ❄☟☜✡ ☟✌✞☜ 👍⚐🏱🕆☹✌❄✋✞☜ ☼☜☹✌❄✋⚐☠💧 🕈✋❄☟ ⚐☼☝✌☠✋👍 🏱✌☼❄💧📬" (ANYWAY...WHEN IT COMES TO THE PHYSICAL NATURE OF US MONSTERS, THERE ARE TWO GROUPS MONSTER FALLS INTO. TRADITIONAL AND NONTRADITIONAL FORMS. TRADITIONAL FORMED MONSTERS HAVE BODILY ANATOMY SIMILAR TO WHAT YOU MIGHT BE USED TO ON THE SURFACE. THEY HAVE COPULATIVE RELATIONS WITH ORGANIC PARTS.)
"Makes sense so far."
"☠⚐☠❄☼✌👎✋❄✋⚐☠✌☹ ☞⚐☼💣☜👎 💣⚐☠💧❄☜☼💧📪 💧🕆👍☟ ✌💧 💣✡ 😐✋☠👎 ✌☠👎 ⚐❄☟☜☼💧 ✡⚐🕆 ☟✌✞☜ 💧☜☜☠📪 ⚐🕆☼ 👌⚐👎✋☜💧 ❄☜☠👎 ❄⚐ ☹✌👍😐 ❄☟☜ 🏱☟✡💧✋⚐☹⚐☝✡ ❄☟✌❄ ❄☼✌👎✋❄✋⚐☠✌☹ ☞⚐☼💣☜👎 💣⚐☠💧❄☜☼💧 🏱⚐💧💧☜💧💧📬 ❄☟✋💧 💣✌😐☜💧 ☼☜☹✌❄✋⚐☠💧 💧🕆👍☟ ✌💧 ✡⚐🕆 😐☠⚐🕈 ⚐☞ 💣⚐💧❄☹✡ ✋💣🏱⚐💧💧✋👌☹☜📪 👌🕆❄ ☠⚐❄ ✋💣🏱☼⚐👌✌👌☹☜📬 ❄☟🕆💧📪 ⚐🕆☼ ❄✡🏱☜ ☟✌💧 ☜✞⚐☹✞☜👎 ❄⚐ ☼☜🏱☼⚐👎🕆👍☜ ✋☠ ✌ 👎✋☞☞☜☼☜☠❄ 💣✌☠☠☜☼📬" (NONTRADITIONAL FORMED MONSTERS, SUCH AS MY KIND AND OTHERS YOU HAVE SEEN, OUR BODIES TEND TO LACK THE PHYSIOLOGY THAT TRADITIONAL FORMED MONSTERS POSSESS. THIS MAKES RELATIONS SUCH AS YOU KNOW OF MOSTLY IMPOSSIBLE, BUT NOT IMPROBABLE. THUS, OUR TYPE HAS EVOLVED TO REPRODUCE IN A DIFFERENT MANNER.)
He frames his hands over his chest and a faint outline of an upside down heart appears, yet something isn't quite right about it...It's hollow.
"💧⚐🕆☹💧 ✌☼☜ ✌ 💣✌☼✞☜☹⚐🕆💧 ❄☟✋☠☝📬 ❄☟☜ 👍⚐☼☜ ⚐☞ ✌☹☹ ☹✋☞☜📬 ✌☠👎 ✌💧 💧🕆👍☟📬📬📬❄☟☜✡ ✌☼☜ 👍✌🏱✌👌☹☜ ⚐☞ ☝☼✌☠❄✋☠☝ ☠☜🕈 ☹✋☞☜ ✌💧 🕈☜☹☹📬" (SOULS ARE A MARVELOUS THING. THE CORE OF ALL LIFE. AND AS SUCH...THEY ARE CAPABLE OF GRANTING NEW LIFE AS WELL.)
The gears grind in my head.
"Wait. So what you're telling me is, and excuse my bluntness...You have sex with your souls?"
"✋☠ ☹✌✡💣✌☠🕯💧 ❄☜☼💣💧📬📬📬✡☜💧📬" (IN LAYMAN'S TERMS...YES.)
I scratch my head in puzzlement as he allows his strange soul to return to him.
"...I have so many questions now."
"💧🕆👍☟ ✌💧✍" (SUCH AS?)
My mind blanks, I didn't really expect him to be willing to answer.
"Um...uh...This soul thing...Is it just limited to your type or are the other monsters able to do it?"
"✋❄ 🕈⚐☼😐💧 ☞⚐☼ ☜✞☜☼✡ 👌☜✋☠☝ 🕈✋❄☟ ✌ 💧⚐🕆☹📬 ☜✞☜☠ ☟🕆💣✌☠💧📬 👌🕆❄ 💧🕆👍☟ ✌☠ ✌👍❄ ☟✌💧 ☠⚐❄ 👌☜☜☠ 👎⚐👍🕆💣☜☠❄☜👎 ✌💧 ☞✌☼ ✌💧 ✋ 😐☠⚐🕈📬 ✌☠👎 ✌💧 ✡⚐🕆 ☟✌✞☜ 💧☟✌☼☜👎📪 ☟🕆💣✌☠💧 ☹✌👍😐 💣✌☝✋👍 ✌☠👎 ❄☟☜ 🕆💧☜ ⚐☞ ❄☟☜✋☼ 💧⚐🕆☹💧📬 💧⚐ ❄☟✋💧 ☞⚐☼💣 ⚐☞ ✋☠❄✋💣✌👍✡ ✋💧 ☹⚐💧❄ ❄⚐ ✡⚐🕆☼ 😐✋☠👎📬" (IT WORKS FOR EVERY BEING WITH A SOUL. EVEN HUMANS. BUT SUCH AN ACT HAS NOT BEEN DOCUMENTED AS FAR AS I KNOW. AND AS YOU HAVE SHARED, HUMANS LACK MAGIC AND THE USE OF THEIR SOULS. SO THIS FORM OF INTIMACY IS LOST TO YOUR KIND.)
I rub my face and drag my hands down slowly.
"*annoyed groan* So this whole time...Not only am I carrying around a ticking time bomb that can make me kill people...Not only is it now going through some messed up hormone crap...Not only is it the most wanted thing in the entire Underground...But it's also a reproductive organ? What the actual fuck?!"
He smirks and rests his chin on his knuckles in amusement. This sitting trick he's doing is amazing.
"✡⚐🕆 ☠☜✞☜☼ 👍☜✌💧☜ ❄⚐ 🏱☼⚐✞✋👎☜ 💣☜ 🕈✋❄☟ ☜☠❄☜☼❄✌✋☠💣☜☠❄📬 ❄☟☜ 🕈✌✡ ✡⚐🕆 👎✋💧🏱☹✌✡ ✡⚐🕆☼ ☜💣⚐❄✋⚐☠💧 ✋💧 🏱☼✋👍☜☹☜💧💧📬" (YOU NEVER CEASE TO PROVIDE ME WITH ENTERTAINMENT. THE WAY YOU DISPLAY YOUR EMOTIONS IS PRICELESS.)
What? So...Was he just fucking with me this whole time? I glare weakly.
"Don't tease me with shit like this."
"☟☜☟ ☟☜☟📬📬📬✋☞ ⚐☠☹✡ ✋❄ 🕈✌💧 ✌ ❄☜✌💧☜📬 🕈☟✌❄ ✋🕯✞☜ ❄⚐☹👎 ✡⚐🕆 ✋💧 ❄☟☜ ❄☼🕆❄☟📬 🕈☟☜❄☟☜☼ ✡⚐🕆 👍☟⚐⚐💧☜ ❄⚐ 👌☜☹✋☜✞☜ ✋❄ ⚐☼ ☠⚐❄ ✋💧 🕆🏱 ❄⚐ ✡⚐🕆📬" (HEH HEH...IF ONLY IT WAS A TEASE. WHAT I'VE TOLD YOU IS THE TRUTH. WHETHER YOU CHOOSE TO BELIEVE IT OR NOT IS UP TO YOU.)
I groan loudly and fall back, laying flat under the weight of weird information that is fucked up.
"What is my life anymore? Things were so much simpler when I was dead inside and I'd stay in my room for so long that everyone would forget I was even home. Souls were just metaphysical concepts of intangible thought and not actual things that can be seen or touched. *groan* Do you wanna know something funny?"
"💧🕆☼☜📬" (SURE.)
"Sometimes I still wonder if they've noticed I'm gone or not. I doubt it. But it would be funny for them to finally notice now. To finally remember that I was fucking there!"
My chest hurts and I feel old darkness creeping back from the depths of my being. Gaster's amusement dies there. His features going emotionless with familiarity.
"Mind if I do something weird? I've bummed myself out and need to feel better."
"👎⚐ 🕈☟✌❄ ✡⚐🕆 ☠☜☜👎 ❄⚐📬 ✋❄ 🕈⚐☠🕯❄ 👌⚐❄☟☜☼ 💣☜📬" (DO WHAT YOU NEED TO. IT WON'T BOTHER ME.)
I shut my eyes and think for a moment. Soon my fingers begin to tap on the floor in the vague tune of Simon & Garfunkel's song "The Sound of Silence".
"♪Hello darkness, my old friend. I've come to talk with you again. Because a vision softly creeping. Left its seeds while I was sleeping. And the vision that was planted in my brain...Still remains. Within the sound of silence.♫"
I don't know what it is about music, but it helps me. In my darkest days, I'd lay in my lightless room and just listen to the radio till I fell asleep. Letting my mind wander and create all sorts of fantasies to escape to rather than sink in despair. And since my iPod isn't here, singing is the backup alternative.
"♪In restless dreams I walked alone. Narrow streets of cobblestone. 'Neath the halo of a street lamp. I turned my collar to the cold and damp. When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light...That split the night. And touched the sound of silence.♫"
Gaster stands up and I can hear him moving over to me.
"♪And in the naked light I saw. Ten thousand people, maybe more. People talking without speaking. People hearing without listening. People writing songs that voices never share...No one dared. Disturb the sound of silence.♫"
He comes to stand over me now. I open my eyes and find my vision swimming. He just stares down at me with his hand behind his back. I simply continue my short song.
"♪'Fools' said I, 'You do not know. Silence like a cancer grows. Hear my words that I might teach you. Take my arms that I might reach you'. But my words like silent raindrops fell...And echoed in the wells of silence.♫"
He nods softly and offers a hand to me. I eye him and sigh through my nose before taking his hand, letting him help me off the floor.
"♪And the people bowed and prayed. To the neon god they made. And the sign flashed out its warning. In the words that it was forming. And the sign said, 'The words of the prophets are written on the subway walls...And tenement halls'. And whispered in the sounds of silence...♫"
"💧🕆👍☟ ✌ 💧⚐💣👌☜☼ 💧⚐☠☝📬" (SUCH A SOMBER SONG.)
"And yet, it makes me feel better when I'm feeling blue."
"✡⚐🕆 ✌☼☜ ✌ ✈🕆✋☼😐✡ ☝✋☼☹📬 👌🕆❄ ✋❄ 💣✌😐☜💧 ✡⚐🕆 🕆☠✋✈🕆☜📬 ✋❄🕯💧📬📬📬☼☜☞☼☜💧☟✋☠☝📬" (YOU ARE A QUIRKY GIRL. BUT IT MAKES YOU UNIQUE. IT'S...REFRESHING.)
I smile shyly.
"Thanks."
I notice I'm still holding his hand and instinct tells me to let go...but I don't. It feels too good to have living contact after feeling bad. If it bothers him at all he doesn't say a word. We just stand there. This odd sense of tranquility slowly comes to me. It's...It's nice. Too bad my brain always ruins good things.
"Gaster..."
"☟💣💣💣✍✆" (HMMM?)
"Forgive me if this is too personal. But...Can I ask what happened to your soul?"
The feel in the room chills. His grip on my hand suddenly tightens. I regret speaking.
"Gaster?"
He doesn't say a word but his grip gets painfully harsh. The bones in my hand squeeze uncomfortably.
"Gaster, stop. You're hurting me."
He pauses, his grip loosening slightly. I try to take my hand back and this proves to be a terrible move. The moment he feels this movement I'm hurled across the room and pinned to the wall by dozens of hands. The wind is then knocked out of my lungs by the force of his real hand slamming into my chest and forcing my rainbow swirl of a soul out through his palm as I snarl meekly.
"✡⚐🕆 🕈✌☠❄ ❄⚐ 😐☠⚐🕈 ✌👌⚐🕆❄ 💣✡ 💧⚐🕆☹✍ ✋💧 ❄☟✌❄ ✌ ❄☼🕆☜ ✈🕆☜💧❄✋⚐☠ ☞☼⚐💣 ✡⚐🕆📬📬📬⚐☼ 👍☟✌☼✌✍" (YOU WANT TO KNOW ABOUT MY SOUL? IS THAT A TRUE QUESTION FROM YOU...OR CHARA?)
"I told you, Chara doesn't know about this."
"☟☜ ☟✌💧☠🕯❄ 👌☜☜☠ 💧🏱☜✌😐✋☠☝ 🕈✋❄☟ ✡⚐🕆 ✌💧 ⚐☞❄☜☠ ✌💧 ☟☜ 🕆💧☜👎 ❄⚐📪 ☟✌💧 ☟☜✍ 👎⚐ ☠⚐❄ ☹✋☜ ❄⚐ 💣☜📬" (HE HASN'T BEEN SPEAKING WITH YOU AS OFTEN AS HE USED TO, HAS HE? DO NOT LIE TO ME.)
Now that he mentions it...
"He...He has been quiet for a long time."
"💧👍☟☜💣✋☠☝ 👌☼✌❄ ✋💧 🕆🏱 ❄⚐ 💧⚐💣☜❄☟✋☠☝📬 ☠⚐❄☟✋☠☝ ☝⚐⚐👎 ☜✞☜☼ 👍✌💣☜ ☞☼⚐💣 🕈☟☜☠ ❄☟✌❄ 👍☟✋☹👎 🕈✌💧 💧✋☹☜☠❄📬" (SCHEMING BRAT IS UP TO SOMETHING. NOTHING GOOD EVER CAME FROM WHEN THAT CHILD WAS SILENT.)
This has me worried. I want to trust them both. But this does make a small shadow be cast on Chara for acting shady.
"☜✋❄☟☜☼ 🕈✌✡📪 💣✡ 💧⚐🕆☹ ✋💧 ⚐☞ ☠⚐ 👍⚐☠👍☜☼☠ ⚐☞ ✡⚐🕆☼💧📬 ✡⚐🕆 💧☟⚐🕆☹👎 👌☜ 💣⚐☼☜ ✋☠❄☜☼☜💧❄☜👎 ✋☠ ✡⚐🕆☼ ⚐🕈☠📬" (EITHER WAY, MY SOUL IS OF NO CONCERN OF YOURS. YOU SHOULD BE MORE INTERESTED IN YOUR OWN.)
His free hand cups my soul, his fingers flex into it and I wince. This adds a whole new feeling of weird now knowing what other thing my soul is.
"☞✌💧👍✋☠✌❄✋☠☝📪 ✋💧 ✋❄ ☠⚐❄📪 ☹✋❄❄☹☜ ⚐☠☜✍ ☟⚐🕈 💧⚐💣☜❄☟✋☠☝ 💧⚐ 💧💣✌☹☹ ☟✌💧 💧⚐ 💣🕆👍☟ 🏱⚐🕈☜☼📬 ☟🕆💣✌☠ 💧⚐🕆☹💧 ☟✌✞☜ ✌☹🕈✌✡💧 👌☜☜☠ 💧❄☼⚐☠☝📪 👌🕆❄ ✡⚐🕆☼💧📬📬📬🕈☜☹☹📬📬📬✋ ❄☟✋☠😐 ✡⚐🕆 😐☠⚐🕈 👌✡ ☠⚐🕈 ❄☟✌❄ ✡⚐🕆 ✌☼☜ ⚐☠ ☹☜✞☜☹💧 ✋ ☠☜✞☜☼ 👎☼☜✌💣☜👎 ⚐☞ ☞✋☠👎✋☠☝📬" (FASCINATING, IS IT NOT, LITTLE ONE? HOW SOMETHING SO SMALL HAS SO MUCH POWER. HUMAN SOULS HAVE ALWAYS BEEN STRONG, BUT YOURS...WELL...I THINK YOU KNOW BY NOW THAT YOU ARE ON LEVELS I NEVER DREAMED OF FINDING.)
His index finger suddenly plunges into my heart-shaped soul and the roar I let out is a garbled mess of distorted sound.
"✌☠👎 ❄☟✌❄📬📬📬❄☟✌❄ 💧❄☼✌☠☝☜ 👌☜☟✌✞✋⚐☼📬 ✋ 💧🕈☜✌☼ ✋ 🕈✋☹☹ ☞✋☠👎 ⚐🕆❄ ❄☟☜ 👍✌🕆💧☜📬" (AND THAT...THAT STRANGE BEHAVIOR. I SWEAR I WILL FIND OUT THE CAUSE.)
"A͘ŗ͠g̸h̶! ͘͠T͟a̶͜ke̶ ̢҉y͜o͝ur d̷̕a̡̧͠mn̢͟ ̷fi̧͠n̕g̕̕͝e͟r͟ ̷̵͘ò̸ứ͟t͘͠͠!̀͏̡"
I thrash in the grip of his conjured up appendages but it is a futile effort that hurts me more.
"✌☟ ✌☟ ✌☟📬 ❄☟✌❄🕯💧 ☠⚐❄ 🏱✌☼❄ ⚐☞ ❄☟☜ 👎☜✌☹📬 ☼☜💣☜💣👌☜☼✍ ✡⚐🕆 🕈⚐🕆☹👎 ☝✋✞☜ 💣☜ ☞🕆☹☹ ✌👍👍☜💧💧 ❄⚐ ✡⚐🕆☼ 💧⚐🕆☹ 🕈✋❄☟ ☠⚐ 👍⚐💣🏱☹✌✋☠❄💧 ⚐☼ ☼☜💧✋💧❄✌☠👍☜ 💧⚐ ☹⚐☠☝ ✌💧 ✋❄ ☹☜✌👎💧 ❄⚐ ❄☟☜ 👌☜❄❄☜☼ 🕆☠👎☜☼💧❄✌☠👎✋☠☝ ⚐☞ ✡⚐🕆☼ 💧⚐🕆☹📬 ✌☠👎 💧✋☠👍☜ ⚐🕆☼ ☹✌💧❄ ☜✠🏱☜☼✋💣☜☠❄📪 ✋ ☟✌✞☜ ☹☜✌☼☠☜👎 ✌ ☞🕆☠ ✡☜❄ ☟☜☹🏱☞🕆☹ ❄☼✋👍😐📬" (AH AH AH. THAT'S NOT PART OF THE DEAL. REMEMBER? YOU WOULD GIVE ME FULL ACCESS TO YOUR SOUL WITH NO COMPLAINTS OR RESISTANCE SO LONG AS IT LEADS TO THE BETTER UNDERSTANDING OF YOUR SOUL. AND SINCE OUR LAST EXPERIMENT, I HAVE LEARNED A FUN YET HELPFUL TRICK.)
His invading digit moves deeper into the heart and the sounds of pain I garble out with are anything but human. Though his actions do seem to have the effect he was alluding to, as the clashing ten colors of my soul abruptly recede to leave only one randomly...it's orange.
"🕈✋❄☟ ☹✋❄❄☹☜ 💣⚐☼☜ ❄☟✌☠ ✌ 💧☹✋☝☟❄ ❄⚐🕆👍☟📪 ✌☠👎 ✌ ☟✋☠❄ ⚐☞ 💣✡ ⚐🕈☠ 💣✌☝✋👍📪 ✡⚐🕆☼ ❄☼✌✋❄💧 👍✌☠ 👌☜ ✌👍❄✋✞✌❄☜👎 ✌💧 ☜✌💧✋☹✡ ✌💧 ⚐☠☜ 🕈⚐🕆☹👎 ☞☹✋🏱 ✌ ☹✋☝☟❄ 💧🕈✋❄👍☟📬" (WITH LITTLE MORE THAN A SLIGHT TOUCH, AND A HINT OF MY OWN MAGIC, YOUR TRAITS CAN BE ACTIVATED AS EASILY AS ONE WOULD FLIP A LIGHT SWITCH.)
[You're filled with BRAVERY.]
"G̢et̨ ̀ỳou're̛ fųcki͜ng͘ fíng̷e҉r̷ o̸ùt b͞efo҉re ̕I͜ ̨b́rea͞k̴ ͠i̕t͟ o͟f͏f a̷nd ͞c̷ram̵ it̛ s̀om̧ęwh̷ère̛ n͜ot͝ ̧even̛ go͟d da̴res͢ to͝ ̴see!"
My teeth are bared and I'm snarling like a rabid dog. He merely chuckles.
"☞✌💧👍✋☠✌❄✋☠☝📬 ✋ 🕈⚐☠👎☜☼📬📬📬" (FASCINATING. I WONDER...)
His finger moves and the orange bleeds into another color...purple.
[You're filled with PERSEVERANCE.]
"Th͞i͘s dísp͡la̢y̕ ́in p̨o͏w̨ęr ̨i͜s̵ qu͟i͞t͘e ̸únn̷e͡ces̷saŕy̶. Yóu k͢now ͜Í'̷m͠ n͝o̵t͏ ́i͜n ͞an͡y pos͏i͜t̡i̷o͘n to̧ stơp y̶o̵u. ̴S͜ǫ i͝f̷ ͜you c̶a͠n s͏t̕óp̀ s̛trơk̢in͡g ͢your e̡gó ̕a͘n͜d́ g͘et ́t͢o ͘the ̵pơi͘nt́ ͜o̵f̕ ́t̵his cl̶e̡çhé͘ s͡how of ̢yòurs,̷ ̵m͏ay̨b̢e̕ ̶w͠e̡ ca̡n ̧aćt̀u͏a͡ll͟y d̸o̢ s͜om͢ethin͘g ̢ţha͜t va͠gu͏ely ̢r͠esem͟bl͢e͝s ͏pro͘g͟re̷ss."
That seems to get to him for a moment before his eyes narrow a bit.
"💧⚐ 💣✡ ❄☟☜⚐☼✡ ✋💧 👍⚐☼☼☜👍❄📬 ☜✌👍☟ ❄☼✌✋❄ 👎⚐☜💧 👍⚐✋☠👍✋👎☜ 🕈✋❄☟ ✌ 🏱✌☼❄ ⚐☞ ✡⚐🕆☼ 🏱☜☼💧⚐☠✌☹✋❄✡📬 ❄☟✋💧 ⚐☠☜ ✋💧 ☼✌❄☟☜☼ 🏱⚐💣🏱🕆💧 ✋☠ 💣✡ ⚐🏱✋☠✋⚐☠📬" (SO MY THEORY IS CORRECT. EACH TRAIT DOES COINCIDE WITH A PART OF YOUR PERSONALITY. THIS ONE IS RATHER POMPUS IN MY OPINION.)
"I͠t̀ ͠t̵ąkes ̴on͜ę t̨o ͞kn҉ow ̨on̷ȩ.͘"
He glares and another rough internal flick has my soul change color once more...green.
[You're filled with KINDNESS.]
"I'm̴ ҉s̢orr̶y. I'̕m͡ ̴b͢ei͡ng̡ ne͏e̛d̷l̀e̛ssl͜y҉ m̢ea͞n͞. ̵I k̛now̛ ͜yo̵u͜'̀re̢ ju͟st ̶tr͝y͟ing ţo ̵hel̀p̛.͞ B͘u̧t th̷e pa̡i̡n͟ ͏ma͝k̀es ̧me͡ ͜cr͝a̷n̶ky͡. Ýo͜u'͢re̸ not mad͏ ̵at ̡me,̵ are̴ ̶y͞o͟u?"
A look comes to his face that I'm not quite sure of.
"📬📬📬☟⚐🕈 👎⚐ ✋ ☝☜❄ ❄☟✋💧 ❄⚐ 👌☜ ✡⚐🕆☼ 👎☜☞✌🕆☹❄ 💧❄✌❄☜✍" (...HOW DO I GET THIS TO BE YOUR DEFAULT STATE?)
I stick my tongue out at him childishly.
"✋ ✌☹💣⚐💧❄ 👎⚐☠🕯❄ 🕈✌☠❄ ❄⚐ 😐☜☜🏱 ☝⚐✋☠☝📬 ❄☟✋💧 🏱✌☼❄ ⚐☞ ✡⚐🕆 ✋💧 ❄☟☜ 👍☹⚐💧☜💧❄ ❄☟✋☠☝ ❄⚐ ✌👎⚐☼✌👌☹☜ ✋ ☟✌✞☜ 👌☜☜☠ ✌👌☹☜ ❄⚐ 🕈✋❄☠☜💧💧📬" (I ALMOST DON'T WANT TO KEEP GOING. THIS PART OF YOU IS THE CLOSEST THING TO ADORABLE I HAVE BEEN ABLE TO WITNESS.)
However, he adds a second finger into my soul and for the first time in my life I scream.
"💧✌👎☹✡📪 ❄⚐ 💧❄⚐🏱 ☠⚐🕈 🕈⚐🕆☹👎☠🕯❄ ✌☹☹⚐🕈 🕆💧 ❄⚐ ❄☜💧❄ ⚐🕆❄ ❄☟☜ 💣⚐☼☜ 👍⚐💣🏱☹☜✠ ❄☼✌✋❄💧 ✡⚐🕆 🏱⚐💧💧☜💧💧📬 👌🕆❄ 🕈☟☜☼☜ ❄⚐ 👌☜☝✋☠✍ ☟💣💣💣📬📬📬✋ 👎⚐ 💧🕆🏱🏱⚐💧☜ 🕈☜ 💧☟⚐🕆☹👎 💧✌✞☜ ❄☟☜ 👌☜💧❄ ☞⚐☼ ☹✌💧❄📬 ✌☞❄☜☼ ✌☹☹📪 ❄☟✌❄ ⚐☠☜ ❄☜☠👎💧 ❄⚐ 👌☜ ✞☜☼✡📬📬📬❄☼⚐🕆👌☹☜💧⚐💣☜📬" (SADLY, TO STOP NOW WOULDN'T ALLOW US TO TEST OUT THE MORE COMPLEX TRAITS YOU POSSESS. BUT WHERE TO BEGIN? HMMM...I DO SUPPOSE WE SHOULD SAVE THE BEST FOR LAST. AFTER ALL, THAT ONE TENDS TO BE VERY...TROUBLESOME.)
He can't possibly be thinking of letting that THING out, is he? He can't really be that crazy. He can't! A twist of those intruding phalanges has every fiber of my being ignites in the fires of unpleasantness as my soul throbs into its next color...pink.
[You're filled with PASSION.]
"❄☟✋💧 🕈✋☹☹ 👌☜ ✋☠❄☜☼☜💧❄✋☠☝📬 🕈☟☜☠☜✞☜☼ ❄☟✋💧 ❄☼✌✋❄ 👍⚐💣☜💧 ❄⚐ ✡⚐🕆📪 ✡⚐🕆 ❄☜☠👎 ❄⚐ 💧❄✋☹☹ 👌☜☟✌✞☜ ✌💧 ✡⚐🕆 ☠⚐☼💣✌☹☹✡ 👎⚐📬 ☠⚐🕈 ✋☠ ✋❄🕯💧 🏱🕆☼☜ 💧❄✌❄☜📪 ✋ 👍✌☠ ⚐☠☹✡ ✋💣✌☝✋☠☜ 🕈☟✌❄ ✡⚐🕆 💣✋☝☟❄📬📬📬" (THIS WILL BE INTERESTING. WHENEVER THIS TRAIT COMES TO YOU, YOU TEND TO STILL BEHAVE AS YOU NORMALLY DO. NOW IN IT'S PURE STATE, I CAN ONLY IMAGINE WHAT YOU MIGHT...)
"Ẁe̸ll̨ h͠ello͝ t҉he͡re͏,̧ doc̨to͞r~."
Perplexion comes to Gaster. My voice holds a rather flirty inflection.
"Wh̢at'̷s͞ wr̕on͡g, ̸G? ҉A͢re̸n̵'̴t ́I͏ s̵t͘ill a̵d̷oráble? ̴O̴r ͞i̸s͠ t͟h̴e̕ s̴in o͜f͜ fi͏nge̵r͢in̷g ͜a̶ lad͢y'͏s ҉so͝u͟l̵ ҉sink̛i̡n̴g̴ i͝n ̛no͝w?̧ ̷M̷mmm̵..̨.s̀ųc̶h̴ a͡ ̨n͠au͘gh̴ty ͢boy y̧ou áre͠~͘.̶"
His hand almost retreats in disgust but even this doesn't sway the man. Though the uncomfortable blush he has is worth the weird feeling this trait gives me.
"✋ ❄☟✋☠😐 ❄☟✋💧 ❄☼✌✋❄ ☟✌💧 👌☜☜☠ 💧☜☜☠ ☹⚐☠☝ ☜☠⚐🕆☝☟📬" (I THINK THIS TRAIT HAS BEEN SEEN LONG ENOUGH.)
"Oh̛ ͝m͜y̴.͝ ̀Is͜ ̛tḩe͞ g҉oo͘d ḑoc͏t͘o͝r͢ dįs͡t̛u҉r͝bed b͘ý l͞įt̷tle͠ ơļ' m̵e?"
"☠⚐📬 ✡⚐🕆 ✌☼☜ ☞✌☼ ☞☼⚐💣 👎✋💧❄🕆☼👌✋☠☝📬" (NO. YOU ARE FAR FROM DISTURBING.)
"Ģi̷ve me͝ ̴s͠om̷e ̡tim̀e ̷an̡d thèn҉ ̡you͝ ͠c҉a̕n se̵e̡ j͏us̸t͞ h̛o̷w dist̕u͘r͜b͏i҉ņg I͟ ̷c̨a͝n ̨be~.́"
I lick my lips hungrily and he flinches, making me snicker.
"R̵ęl̷a̸x, G.͝ ́I͞ ̸d͞on'͝t bit̴e̡...͡unl҉esş y̴ou ͢w͠ánt m̨e͏ t͢o͏~?"
"☠⚐🏱☜📬" (NOPE.)
His fingers shift and I convulse in the grip of his hands.
"☠⚐ 💣⚐☼☜ ⚐☞ ❄☟✋💧 ☝✌💣☜📬 ✋❄🕯💧 ❄✋💣☜ ❄⚐ 💧❄🕆👎✡ ❄☟✋💧 ☼☜☹☜☠❄☹☜💧💧 ❄☼✌✋❄ ⚐☞ ✡⚐🕆☼💧 ✌☠👎 💧☜☜ ☺🕆💧❄ ☟⚐🕈 👎☜✌👎☹✡ ✋❄ ☼☜✌☹☹✡ ✋💧📬" (NO MORE OF THIS GAME. IT'S TIME TO STUDY THIS RELENTLESS TRAIT OF YOURS AND SEE JUST HOW DEADLY IT REALLY IS.)
No! He can't! Sure, I doubt that THING can hurt him and this room might be the safest place for that THING to be let free in. But this isn't the world where my body is. I don't know if unleashing the Black Soul in the Void makes it stay here and not affect my body in the waking world. I can't risk it. I can't!
[You're filled with DETERMINATION.]
"S̀t҉o̶p!́ Y̧o҉u̴ ͟c̨aņ'͡t ̷d͝o̢ t̨hi͘s̷!̷"
"✡⚐🕆 ✌☼☜ ✋☠ ☠⚐ 🏱⚐💧✋❄✋⚐☠ ❄⚐ 👎☜☞✡ 💣☜ ⚐☼ 👎☜☠✡ 🕈☟✌❄ ✋ 🕈✌☠❄ ⚐☞ ✡⚐🕆📬" (YOU ARE IN NO POSITION TO DEFY ME OR DENY WHAT I WANT OF YOU.)
"Y̷ou̧ ̶d̵on't ͢kno̶w ҉w͏h́a͢t y̧ou͘'҉r̛é deal̛in͢g͠ with̀.҉"
"❄☟✌❄ ✋💧 🏱☼☜👍✋💧☜☹✡ 🕈☟✡ ✋🕯💣 👎⚐✋☠☝ ❄☟✋💧📬" (THAT IS PRECISELY WHY I'M DOING THIS.)
"D́a͜mn it̕, ́G͞a͘s̶t͝er, ́don't̨ b̢e͏ so͏ ͜s̢tu̴píd!"
The sadly familiar sting of a hand colliding with my face is felt and with it my resolve wanes.
"✡⚐🕆 ✋☠💧✋☝☠✋☞✋👍✌☠❄ 🕈⚐☼💣✏ 👎⚐ ✡⚐🕆 🕈✌☠❄ 💣☜ ❄⚐ 😐✋☹☹ ✡⚐🕆✍ 👎⚐☠🕯❄ ❄☟✋☠😐 ☞⚐☼ ✌ 💣⚐💣☜☠❄ ❄☟✌❄ ✋ 🕈⚐☠🕯❄📬 ✡⚐🕆 ✌☼☜ ☠⚐❄☟✋☠☝ 💣⚐☼☜ ❄☟✌☠ ✌ ☝☹✋❄👍☟📬 ✌☠ ✌💣⚐☠✌☹✋🕆💧 ☞☼☜✌😐 ✋☠ ❄☟☜ ❄✋💣☜☹✋☠☜📬 ☠⚐❄☟✋☠☝ ✡⚐🕆 👎⚐ 💣✌❄❄☜☼💧 ✌☠👎 ✡⚐🕆☼ ☹✋☞☜ ✋💧 🕆❄❄☜☼☹✡ 💣☜✌☠✋☠☝☹☜💧💧📬 💧⚐ ☞⚐☼ ⚐☠👍☜ ✋☠ ✡⚐🕆☼ 💧✌👎 ☜✠✋💧❄☜☠👍☜ 👎⚐ 💧⚐💣☜❄☟✋☠☝ 🕆💧☜☞🕆☹ ✌☠👎 ☹☜❄ 💣☜ 🕈⚐☼😐✏" (YOU INSIGNIFICANT WORM! DO YOU WANT ME TO KILL YOU? DON'T THINK FOR A MOMENT THAT I WON'T. YOU ARE NOTHING MORE THAN A GLITCH. AN AMONALIUS FREAK IN THE TIMELINE. NOTHING YOU DO MATTERS AND YOUR LIFE IS UTTERLY MEANINGLESS. SO FOR ONCE IN YOUR SAD EXISTENCE DO SOMETHING USEFUL AND LET ME WORK!)
His words hurt me. Cutting deeper than I'd care to admit. As a result, the brightness in my soul begins to darken.
[You're starting losing HOPE.]
"Yo͝u̸..͟.You d͡on't ̛mean͏ t̶hat.͢ Yo͟u̶'r̵e̵ ͡ju͏st ̶l̀as̨hįn͡g̕ ̶ou͝t ͠b̀ec̷a̴u͘sȩ y͢o͟u͟'̴re͟ u͝pse̡t̀.̴"
The look he gives me is cold.
"💧🕆👍☟ ✌ 🏱✌❄☟☜❄✋👍 ❄☟✋☠☝ ✡⚐🕆 ✌☼☜📬 ☹⚐⚐😐 ✌❄ ✡⚐🕆📬📬📬👍☹✋☠☝✋☠☝ ❄⚐ ✌ 💧☜☠💧☜ ❄☟✌❄ 🕈☜🕯☼☜ ☜✈🕆✌☹💧📬 🖂💧👍⚐☞☞🖂 ✌💧 ✋☞ ✌ ☟🕆💣✌☠ 👍⚐🕆☹👎 ☜✞☜☼ 👌☜ ✌☠✡❄☟✋☠☝ 💣⚐☼☜ ❄⚐ 💣☜ ❄☟✌☠ ✌ ❄☜💧❄ 💧🕆👌☺☜👍❄📬 ☜💧🏱☜👍✋✌☹☹✡ ⚐☠☜ ✌💧 👎✌💣✌☝☜👎 ✌💧 ✡⚐🕆📬" (SUCH A PATHETIC THING YOU ARE. LOOK AT YOU...CLINGING TO A SENSE THAT WE'RE EQUALS. *SCOFF* AS IF A HUMAN COULD EVER BE ANYTHING MORE TO ME THAN A TEST SUBJECT. ESPECIALLY ONE AS DAMAGED AS YOU.)
[You're losing more HOPE.]
My soul is almost drained of color. My weakened emotional state made this verbal assault of his rather easy to break my defenses. I don't know if this was part of a plan to make me less willing to fight back or if he's being honest, either way, I don't do a thing when he forces his entire hand into my dull soul. I feel pain, but I remain silent. My body begs to be free, but I'm dead slack. I do nothing...except give up.
[You've lost all HOPE.]
My soul turns pitch black as my body limps in his grip.
[You're filled with RELENTLESSNESS.]
"✌☟📪 ❄☟☜☼☜ 🕈☜ ☝⚐📬 ✡⚐🕆 💧☜☜✍ ❄☟✌❄ 🕈✌💧☠🕯❄ 💧⚐ 👌✌👎📬 ☠⚐🕈 🕈✌💧 ✋❄✍" (AH, THERE WE GO. YOU SEE? THAT WASN'T SO BAD. NOW WAS IT?)
There's no response.
"☟🕆💣✌☠✍" (HUMAN?)
Suddenly one of my arms breaks free and grabs hold of his neck.
"Į tr̡i̶ed̴ t͢o w͜a͝r̨n y̢oų.̶..̛"
He strikes me as he pulls away to set himself free, his hand no longer in my soul and the other appendages tightening their hold as my eyes fade to black with a malicious smile smearing my lips.
"You should've listened while you had the chance."
He's shaken but not easily intimidated.
"💧⚐ ❄☟✋💧 ✋💧 ✋❄✍ ❄☟☜ 👌☹✌👍😐 💧⚐🕆☹ ⚐☞ ☼☜☹☜☠❄☹☜💧💧 👎☜✌❄☟✍ ✋🕯💣 ☠⚐❄ ✋💣🏱☼☜💧💧☜👎📬" (SO THIS IS IT? THE BLACK SOUL OF RELENTLESS DEATH? I'M NOT IMPRESSED.)
An emotionless chuckle leaves me and it slowly builds into haunting laughter.
"✡⚐🕆 👎⚐☠🕯❄ 💧👍✌☼☜ 💣☜📬" (YOU DON'T SCARE ME.)
My laughter stops instantly.
"That will soon change."
[Meanwhile: the child's bedroom in the Ruins]
Things are usually peaceful when sleep claims the waking world. The word usually being the key term here. Not everything sleeps in the hours of the night. And not all is peaceful when not a sound is heard. So in the normally quiet dark room where the human and flower rest, a soft light began to emanate from covers of the bed of the human. This soft glow started out weak, hardly ever noticeable to the shadows that consumed the room. But as time went on, the glowing got brighter, and the dark of the room weakened. Soon though the building light stirs the senses of the flower and once he rubs the sleep from his eyes the sight gets his concern.
"What the...?"
The light grew brighter and the human makes weak sounds of pain. Worried, Flowey stretches out a vine and shakes the girl a bit.
"Hey. Hey. Wake up. Come on, wake up."
Her response is only to whimper and the glowing flares. Fear and curiosity has his vine pulling the covers off of her, revealing the source of the light to be coming from her chest.
"Ah hell. What kind of crazy junk is this?"
She suddenly sits up and the glow of her chest dims, freaking Flowey out enough to yelp. He's quick to cover his mouth, hoping he hadn't disturbed Toriel. Nothing happens as the room darkens once more. Though a chill permeates the air where only warmth was felt. At least the human was awake and things were normal.
"You know, you're going to have to tell me about this weird stuff that happens when you sleep sooner or later. I can't help you if you don't talk to me."
There's no response.
"Human?"
A faint dull glow casts in front of her and something makes Flowey shiver.
"Howdy...It's me...your best friend."
Oh no...
"Lynsie?"
"Do you remember it, Asriel?"
If flower's had blood, Flowey's would be running cold.
"When you killed your brother, you looked just...like...THIS!"
She turns to him quickly and he sees the face of death. Black eyes with red irises piercing into his very being. He knows those eyes. They were once his a long time when he became a creature of unimaginable power. The shadows seem to surround those eyes and the form it creates is one he thought he'd never see again.
"S-S-Stay away from me! You're not real!"
"What's wrong, Asriel? Afraid of your own shadow now?"
"Stop it! Leave me alone!"
"I don't think so."
This THING grabs his pot and Flowey can't make himself move.
"Those fool thinks they can get rid of me. But you know that isn't going to happen, don't you, little Prince?"
These words. Who the hell was this, because this sure as hell isn't Lynsie.
"Who...What are you?"
The sound of approaching steps is head and it smiles.
"Isn't it obvious?"
It puts the pot down and seems to disappear into the darkness.
"I'm the bad guy."
The bedroom door opens slightly.
"Children? Is everything okay?"
"Don't come in here!"
Flowey's warning is too little too late. Toriel enters the room and turns on the light, revealing the grinning black soul girl behind her.
"Mom, look out!"
She doesn't register this fast enough as the Black Soul clutches both hands together and swings them downwards hard, hitting Toriel on her back to knock her over.
"Mom!"
"Ah ah ah. You can't call her that till after the True Lab. Stick to the script, Flowey. Frisk isn't here to break the game for you anymore."
How does it know all this?
"Poor, Toriel. You just can't get a break today. Well...Hehehe...I can fix that."
The Black Soul reaches for Toriel's leg, most likely with the aim of breaking it as it had teased. But Toriel is not an easy mark for attack and her own self-preservation instincts make her swipe a fiery paw at the threat to her life. Whether this is part of the Black Soul's twisted game or it underestimated Toriel's reflexes, but it takes the hit and is sent crashing into the hall's wall with enough force to leave a body dent, much to Toriel's horror.
"N-No...No no no no..."
Mothering nature trumps the defensive one and she moves to check on the unmoving smoking body lying limp in the hall. But she doesn't make it very far, not with the vines wrapping around her.
"What are you doing? Release me, flower."
"I can't. It's too dangerous. That thing isn't her."
His words take a moment to alert her to the issue at hand and it sinks in more when creepy chuckling comes from the hall.
"Awww...It's so cute seeing you care for her. Such a good little mama's boy you've become."
The body rises awkwardly from the floor and those eyes gleam wickedly, a scorch mark across the belly.
"But if you think a family bond will save you from me, you are wrong...DEAD wrong."
"Entity..."
Even when confronted by death, Toriel is worried about her loved ones over herself.
"If harm is truly your intent, then do one small kindness and tell us why. What fills you with so much hate that you seek to end our lives?"
To this, the Black Soul seems taken by, almost confused or insulted.
"Hate? My dear, Toriel, you've got me all wrong. I don't hate. Hate is not a part of me at all."
That's an answer none of them saw coming.
"You...You do not hate us?"
"Then what the hell is your problem?!"
It shakes its head disapprovingly.
"Sorry. But I'm not into the whole cliché of revealing important plot/character information that can ultimately cripple my diabolical plans. By the way, I don't have any diabolical plans, that's just this body's childishness coming out. Either way...My secrets aren't meant to be told to just anyone. Those are things for her to know and her alone."
Her? Who is her? Did it mean the human? Damn this thing for speaking in nonsense. It didn't answer much and leaves only more questions in its wake. Yet before another question could be thought up or asked, the Black Soul grips its chest in pain and stumbles back into the wall.
"*wince* Damn it...Seems my time is being cut short...hęh̵.͞..A̸n҉d jus͞t̢ ̀whe҉ń t͜hi͏n͢gs w͝e͏re ̀gét͡ti̢ng ̸int́eres̴ti͝ng̕ ̷I ͟f̢all ̕fǫr̸ ͠t̀h҉e cl̛ic͞h҉é ǫf monơl̀ogu͢ing ͘ţi͞l̕l̨ I'̧m b̡est̢e̶d͡."
It points to them and smiles painfully wide.
"T͜his͞ i͢sn't ̕thȩ ̷l͞a̷s͝t҉ ͘y̢ou've̸ ̛s̴èen o͡f ͜m͞e.͜..̨I sh̸al̕l ̧ret͟ur҉n...̴A̧n̡d ̛ẁhen̕ ͝I̡ do...͏Į s͝hall ͏b͠e͠ ͘m͏ore̕ ͟pow̶erful ͏t̢h͏a͘n͞ ́y̕ou c҉an p̶o̢ssibly̵ im̸a̛gi͘ne!"
The intense threat is made less threatening when it abruptly vomits black slime and collapses to the floor face first. There's a long pause as tension mounts as to if this is another fake-out by the Black Soul. But after a bit of time with nothing happening, Flowey releases his hold on Toriel and she cautiously approaches the human's body.
"Lynsie? Child, can you hear me?"
The human doesn't seem alive. That goop still oozing from her mouth. Toriel kneels and checks for any sign that the girl isn't about to die.
"Is she breathing?"
"I...I can not tell."
"*coughing and gasping*"
Suddenly the girl springs to life, spewing up more of that goo from her lungs before air can let her breathe once more. Toriel does her best to help keep her weak body from flailing and helps her stand once she's stabilized.
"Are you alright, my child?"
Shaken, she merely nods her head. Though none truly believe she is fine.
"Do you need anything?"
She shakes her head.
"Okay. Let me help you back into bed."
That has the girl tremble and Toriel frowns.
"...How about some milk and a story? Does that sound better?"
She nods.
"Very well. But then it is to the tub with you. I know not what that 'stuff' is, but I do not want it to linger on you longer than needed."
She nods again as Toriel walks her towards the living room. Flowey from her perch just lingers, contemplating on if he should follow or not. That Black Soul really shook him to the core. It knew things. Things she shouldn't know. It didn't help that it acted differently too. Unlike when he saw it before, this thing was more cat-like, teasing and toying with them whereas before it was calculatingly cold with deliberate actions. It was like it was a completely different THING all together. Very...Chaotic in nature. This was troubling. Maybe it would be best to ignore the fear and make sure the human was alright. After all, he'd like some reassuring if he went through something like that. Spider walking on his vines, he carefully makes his way around the puddle of sludge, noticing that the amount was slowly shrinking. Weird stuff. He didn't like it. He just hoped it was gone by nights end.
[Meanwhile: Skeleton household]
Hard times were also had at the home of Sans and Papyrus. Though not to the same extent as a what went on in the Ruins. No...After the whole "Queen went nuts" incident, Papyrus wore sans down enough so that the elder sibling would talk about what he's been keeping from him. This was fine, as Sans was sick of hiding things anyway, but he was wary that Papyrus would believe any of it. Sure enough, this was how things went down, at least, not at first. When it came to some of it, Papyrus was willing to accept with not much convincing, such as the human possessing a strange soul. With how she was he had no doubt that even her soul was off in some way, shape, or form. What wasn't believable was that she was capable of immense power so strong that it would corrupt her into a murderous psycho. Once that lost him, Sans didn't bother trying to explain anything else, much to Papyrus annoyance. So as they laid in their beds, different trains of thought came to them.
Papyrus was irritated and that made trying to sleep harder than normal, what with his high levels of stress-induced adrenaline. Sans was less than informative and what he did tell him made little to no sense. The human...THAT human...Sans dared to insinuate that that pitiful thing could match or even out power him, the great and terrible Papyrus, in strength. Her? Compared to him? The levels of bullshit were so high you could taste the foulness. Still, Sans is a poor liar when it comes to him and during their chat Papyrus couldn't sense any sign of falsehood in his brother's words. So maybe...No. No, he refuses to even entertain the idea of the human being strong without proof of some sort. But how? How to get said proof? Hmmm...seems a duel is in order. Only then could he truly test her might.
Sans on his end felt relief for once. Nothing was shackling him anymore. No promise hanging over his head. No human to bother him. No Black Soul around to randomly trigger a murder spree. No reason for Grillby to act all weird at the bar. And nothing to make him feel weird or mess with his head while laying in bed. Sure, Papyrus was a dick as he predicted he would when he started to tell him about stuff. But fuck that. None of that mattered. Things were normal again. He could finally unwind and hang loose if he wanted to without worry. Oh yeah, this was going to be sweet. Sure, the human could and probably would pop back into his life. But who knows if and when that would happen. Till then there was no reason for that chick to be on his mind. Why would he even want to think about her? All she ever did was cause him trouble. Okay, maybe not always. There were some good times. Hell, she'd actually pun along with him and not give him shit over it. That's a rare thing that only the old lady does. Damn it...There he goes again. Wanting just to have a moment to himself and yet that woman finds a way into his skull. Argh! Why do humans keep plaguing his life like this? All he wants is some peace!
[Time Skip]
Four days...It's been four days since that night...And it's been four days since I've slept. I can't do it. I can't. I can't go back there. I can't trust anyone. Chara hasn't said a word and Gaster is...well...Gaster. I want to trust them but how can I when this shit happens?! I've kept myself busy by getting back into my old habits. I trained like crazy for the first two days. Toriel managed to fix my messed up tooth by filling it with a bit of silver. She practiced doing this on a potato before feeling good enough to try it on me. Luckily it worked and my head didn't explode. By day three I only got half of my normal stuff done. And now, day four, I'm about ready to keel over. Every time my eyes close for a second too long I panic. My brain is not responding to this well. It's desperate for sleep of some kind. After around the seventieth consecutive hour of being awake, it started triggering microsleep. This is a temporary episode of sleep or drowsiness which may last for a fraction of a second or up to thirty seconds where an individual fails to respond to some arbitrary sensory input and becomes unconscious. I've gone through this before once. I experimented to see how long I could make myself stay awake. I ended up lasting four and a half days before forcing myself to sleep because I was just so fucking tired. That was some good sleep and I ended up sleeping through the entirety of hurricane Wilma. Knowing this and the signal of the microsleep, I'm not sure how much longer I can keep this up before my mind shuts down or I end up with a far more worst condition than random insomnia. It doesn't help that all the training used up a lot of my energy. My internal batteries are aching for a recharge. But I can't risk it. I can't! I can't let that thing back out! I can't fall asleep! I won't go to sleep! I can't do it! I CAN'T DO IT! I CAN'T DO IT!!
"Child, please stop..."
Toriel, who has been watching me pace circles around the old dead tree, comes to me and holds my arms back. I'm shaking and my nails are dripping crimson. How long was I digging into my skin for?
"You can not continue on like this. I beg of you, please, get some rest."
"No! N-No sleep...Can't sleep...Bad things happen in sleep. Can't...C-Can't let the bad stuff happen."
She frowns with ever grown concern. She's been worried sick since that night. Aside from the Black Soul stuff, she told me about, she nearly had a heart attack once her eyes saw all the hand marks Gaster printed on me. It didn't help that I refused to tell her how or what they were from. Though it was a convenient way to disguise the hickey Grillby gave me. I'm not very talkative lately if you can imagine, though when I do my lack of sleep is obvious in my slurring stutter and slow brief pauses.
"At least will you come inside and sit with me? There is no need to pace around."
I can't sit still. Gotta keep moving. Gotta stay awake. Gotta get her off my back if I'm to stay awake a second longer.
"...S-Sure. But...C-Could you make that...c-cheesecake I like? It m-might help me...relax."
This eases her some and she takes me back into the house where she sits me on her chair before leaving to go get things to tend to my cuts. Wow, these are deep. I was really digging in there. She returns to see me breaking my nails to prevent moment like this till they grow back and she sighs to get my attention.
"You poor thing. Why must you insist on dealing with such things on your own? I am here for you if you need help so badly."
"I d-don't need help."
She kneels and takes one of my arms to start healing.
"You do not need to be so stubborn. Holding your troubles in only makes them worse."
I bite my tongue to keep myself from yelling something along the lines of her being a hypocrite.
"Where is F-Flowey?"
"I let him out while you were pacing. The dear needed to stretch his roots, what with being stuck in that pot for so long."
Her magic seals the flesh up and she puts my glove back on before working on the other arm. I keep forgetting to put them on after I take them off.
"He's worried about you too. I know the two of you are very close. It must pain him seeing you try to handle this on your own."
There's no need to guilt trip me over this. I already feel like shit. I hate being like this. I'm becoming everything Gaster said I was. I hate this. I hate this! I hate myself! I hate you! Why are you so weak?!
"Lynsie, calm down, please!"
I'm shaking even more now and my hands are pointlessly clawing at her chair.
"I...I n-need to go...Need to m-move..."
"No. You will sit still and let me finish. This gash is too deep to be left alone."
I'm trying! Don't you think I am? Every part of me is going crazy!
"...When I am done, are you going to stay in the house?"
"Y-Yes...I'll s-stay inside...Please...I can't...I h-have to move."
Her displeasure is very evident on her face, but she takes this small victory and finishes healing me. The moment she's done, I'm already out of the chair and walking nervously. She attempts to pat my head reassuringly but I flinch and she pouts.
"I will be in the kitchen if you need anything."
I nod, holding myself to try to make the trembling stop.
"I mean it...I will help you. All you need do is ask."
I nod again and she reluctantly moves the other room. I slowly go to my room to collect my iPod before heading downstairs. I want to be alone. I need to be alone. I need to get lost. I don't trust myself in this state. I'm too on edge to be okay. I pop in the earbuds and search for something fitting of this mood. Something angry. Something messed up. Something that will keep me awake as I walk around the large space by the exit door. Finally, I find something appropriate..."Last Resort" by Papa Roach.
"♪Cut my life into pieces. This is my last resort. Suffocation. No breathing. Don't give a fuck if I cut my arm, bleeding...This is my last resort...♫"
Oh yeah...So fucking appropriate.
"♪Cut my life into pieces. I've reached my last resort. Suffocation, no breathing. Don't give a fuck if I cut my arm, bleeding. Do you even care if I die bleeding? Would it be wrong? Would it be right? If I took my life tonight. Chances are that I might. Mutilation outta sight And I'm contemplating suicide. 'Cause I'm losing my sight. Losing my mind. Wish somebody would tell me I'm fine. Losing my sight. Losing my mind. Wish somebody would tell me I'm fine.♫"
My chest starts to tighten at memories of when I'd last played this song. Always on really bad days. Really sad days. Days where I couldn't see any point to anything. Days like these. Like today.
"♪I never realized I was spread too thin. Till it was too late. And I was empty within. Hungry! Feeding on chaos. And living in sin. Downward spiral, where do I begin? It all started when I lost my mother. No love for myself. And no love for another. Searching to find a love up on a higher level. Finding nothing but questions and devils. 'Cause I'm losing my sight. Losing my mind. Wish somebody would tell me I'm fine. Losing my sight. Losing my mind. Wish somebody would tell me I'm fine. Nothing's alright. Nothing is fine. I'm running and I'm crying...I'm crying...I'm crying...I'm crying...I'm crying. I can't go on living this way.♫"
The problem with listening to songs like this when you yourself are pretty fucked up is...it tends to only fuck you up even more. The words get to me and I trip over my own unsteady feet, smashing into the floor by the door. I don't even bother with trying to get up. I'm too depressed to give a shit about it.
"♪Cut my life into pieces. This is my last resort Suffocation. No breathing. Don't give a fuck if I cut my arm, bleeding. Would it be wrong? Would it be right? If I took my life tonight. Chances are that I might. Mutilation outta sight. And I'm contemplating suicide. 'Cause I'm losing my sight. Losing my mind. Wish somebody would tell me I'm fine. Losing my sight. Losing my mind. Wish somebody would tell me I'm fine. Nothing's alright. Nothing is fine. I'm running and I'm crying. I can't go on living this way! Can't go on...Living this way...Nothing's all...right!!♫"
Thank the lord for that song being short. I'm not sure if I could take it for another minute or two. Probably end up a big sobbing mess. Wait...Why do I feel...Oh god damn it! I'm crying! Why the fuck am I crying?! Can't I go one fucking day without being such a bitch?! It's because I'm weak. Look at me. I'm such a pussy that I'm afraid to even go to sleep. Hell, I wasn't scared when I had those Freddy Krueger dreams. After three visits from that guy, we became friends. Friends! With Freddy mother fucking Krueger! The dream killer! Yet here I am. Crying into the dirt like the biggest bitch on the planet because someone was mean and brought out the worst part of me. Pathetic. Gaster was right. I'm a worm. A weak, pansy ass, bitch of a worm that is nothing but useless. I...I wish I was dead.
"*muffled* hey, you doing okay in there?"
Great! Just great! A witness to my misery. Ugh...At least he can't see me.
"*muffled* kid? i know you're there. the old lady would've spoken by now."
This is so awkward. I haven't spoken to Sans since I left Snowdin. And the shit Gaster showed me made me want to see him less. Maybe if I do nothing he'll think he was hearing things and leave.
"*muffled* giving me the silent treatment, huh? bitch move, kid. but i can fix that."
[knock-knock]
I flinch. A strong urge pulling at me.
[knock-knock]
"*muffled* come on, ya know ya wanna say it. don't leave me hanging."
[knock-knock]
Why? Why am I compelled to do this?!
"*weak* Who's there?"
His chuckling is really laughter once I remove the earbuds. No point trying to drown myself with music now.
"inu."
"Inu who?"
"inu you couldn't resist a knock-knock joke."
I groan, rolling onto my back knowing this wasn't going to be a short joke chat.
"geez, i know my jokes aren't for everyone, but it wasn't that bad."
"It's not you...You're f-fine...The joke was fine. I'm j-just not feeling well."
"huh? you sick or something?"
"I haven't s-slept...in four days."
"the hell? why not?"
I get quiet.
"kid? ...did...did something happen?"
I move closer to the door. I don't know where Flowey is or if Toriel is spying on me, but this is stuff I can only share with Sans.
"Sans...Gaster...did stuff to me."
"uh...w-what...what kind of stuff?"
"Bad s-stuff...Very bad...He..."
"please don't tell me if it's of the xxx variety."
You're one to talk, perverted asshole.
"N-No...dingus. He f-forced it out...The Black Soul."
I can't see him due to the door between us, but it's not hard to imagine the look that comes to him from that.
"he did what?! don't tell me you...you didn't kill tori, did ya?"
Ow. That hurt. His level of worry is strong. Then again, I'm weak enough to have that question hurled at me.
"No. S-She's still alive. I didn't k-kill anyone...thankfully."
The breath of relief he lets out is louder than I thought a guy with no lungs could make.
"thank asgore. heh...well at least there's some good news. you're getting better at controlling that thing."
My hands ball into fists as I start to seethe internally.
"You're wrong. I...I wasn't the one to put it back in its cage. Gaster did."
I snarl at myself. My self-loathing perks my energy up to a decent level.
"He was able to manipulate my soul like a child toying with a bug in a jar. I was completely powerless. I...I couldn't do a damn thing."
"i did tell ya you were messing with a devil you couldn't handle."
"ARGH!!"
In a fit, I punch the door. My knuckles crunching into the stone is a sickening sound. Yet what neither of us expects is that the force pushes the door slightly, the chill wind of the other side creeping in through the small gap.
"hey, take it easy. you're not the first to be played by the guy. it's just what he does."
"That's not it. I'm pissed off at myself."
"the fuck for?"
"For all of this. None of this would be happening if I wasn't so weak."
"you just cold cocked a thick as hell stone door and not bitching about the pain. you're not weak."
"You don't get it!"
I don't mean to snap, but I'm too tense to hold back.
"I am weak! If I wasn't...I wouldn't have fallen down here. The Black Soul wouldn't have been awakened. I wouldn't be putting everyone in danger. I wouldn't be too fucking scared to sleep!"
I can feel my heart racing. Sweat is starting to fall and I'm panting.
"I am weak. I'm a pathetic waste that's better off dead. At least then I can't hurt anyone. So then why..."
I bash my head into the door.
"Why the fuck am I more scared to die than I've ever been before?!"
I bash my head again and this time I see the red stain on the dull stone. before feeling the trickle.
"what the hell are ya doing?"
"I don't know anymore! I'm just so tired! *meek* So...fucking...tired..."
Damn it, again with the crying. I'm such garbage. I'm just...
"lynsie..."
"*sniffles* What?"
"stop it."
I'm sorry...What?
"Huh?"
"stop it. just stop. stop with this depressing self-pity bullshit."
I rub my face of tears and blood.
"Stop? Hehehe...*sarcasm* Oh yeah, why didn't I think of that? Just stop feeling things. Problem solved!"
"don't be a bitch."
"Did you come up with that idea all by yourself? *mock gasp* You should get a Noble Prize."
"fine! see if i try to be nice again."
"Ah, come one. I'm busting your not real balls."
"i take shit from pap 24/7, what makes you think i'm gonna stick around to take it from you?"
"You don't have to. I just..."
I sit back against the door, feeling my body weigh heavier than ever.
"*sigh* You're the only one that knows what's going on with me. The only one I can talk to about this crap. The one I trust. As much as I piss you off and make you hate me...You're my closest friend. You don't hold back on me. You don't pretend to be someone you're not. You're bare bones honest and willing to call me out on my stupid junk. And just like that, without knowing it or even trying...You make me feel better when I really need it the most."
I wipe my face into my shirt as I hear only silence on his end. I smile sadly to myself.
"Sorry for the mushy talk. *sniffle* Dumb soul hormone crap makes me such a pussy sometimes."
I'm lying to myself and him with that one. I don't know why I said all that stuff. Probably the filter in my brain diverted power to my emotional stuff because it's not up to speed right now. But I know what I said was true. Sans is my friend. And without him, I'd probably not be here. Still, I'm not about to tell him that.
[knock-knock]
"Who's there?"
"comma."
"comma out here."
"Heh...Good one."
"no, i mean it. let me take ya to grillby's for a bit. i know it would make his day to see ya again. and who knows, it might help ya feel better once you get a little tipsy."
I think I'll stay away from the hard stuff for a while. Freaky shit tends to happen.
"As good as that sounds, I can't. Not that I don't want to. But Nanny will lose her mind if I just leave. That, and I don't think I can move anymore."
"you used up your last bits being a little cry baby, didn't you?"
"Yeah. Guess I've gotta be a big girl and face the music now. It's getting harder to keep my eyes open."
"...ya want me to, i dunno, stick around? make sure you don't go coo coo for killer puffs?"
That gets me to smile for real this time.
"I'd like that. Thank you...Sans."
Either it's getting darker or my lids are shutting. It doesn't take long before exhaustion takes me, my head lulling to the side and making my body follow it to the ground with a soft thud.
"lynsie?"
Sans gets no response other than loud shallow breathing.
"*scoff* calls herself weak? kid lasts better than i do when nightmares strike."
Picking himself out of the snow, Sans dusts himself off and gives the door a second glance. If he wanted to, he could use that small shift in the stone to his advantage and pry it open with some well-placed bones. It wouldn't be hard to abduct a helpless sleep deprived human. Yet...Something told him that t wasn't the best move to make. For one, no one wants another pissed off Toriel rampaging through town again. And second...what she said, all that dumb girly feeling stuff...some of that felt more personal than intended and it made him uncomfortable.
"Child!"
He flinched at the voice of Toriel and the level of worry it held. Was it because of motherly reasons or did the human's Black Soul come out when he wasn't paying attention?
"Why? Why do you keep doing this to yourself? Why will you not let me help you?"
That made his sockets widen. She didn't even let her own mom in on any of this? But...She opened up to him. Why?
"As much as I piss you off and make you hate me...You're my closest friend."
He felt heat beginning to pool in his cheekbones and he pulled the hood of his jacket over his head to hide this as he returned to his post.
"damn, woman. staying stupid shit like that. messing with me."
At his station, Sans plopped down on his seat and began drinking from a bottle of mustard he'd stashed there the day prior. The tangy yellow concoction brought a much-needed chill to his heating bones. Though it did little to ease his mind on the events that only moments ago happened.
"friends...heh...i don't need any friends. fucking bitch."
He fiddles with the bottle before drinking more.
"And just like that, without knowing it or even trying...You make me feel better when I really need it the most."
His grip on the bottle got harsh, making him guzzle the condiment like a hardcore drunk before slamming it onto the station's counter top.
"argh! get out of my head!"
She was becoming a parasite to him. A virus that was spreading to every thought he had. It was driving him crazy! There has to be a way to make this stop. Something that could be done to make all this weirdness end. Something that would get this out of his system. But what?
"SANS!"
Lost in his "hate the human" thoughts, Sans failed to notice Papyrus storming over to his post.
"huh? what's up, boss?"
Papyrus eyes his brother questionably.
"what?"
"YOU'RE AWAKE AT YOUR POST."
"uh...yeah. and?"
"I HAVE NOTICED YOU HAVE ONLY BEEN MORE ACTIVE WHEN THE HUMAN WAS AROUND. SO...WHERE IS SHE?"
Great. Now the fucking human was messing with his behavior too.
"she ain't here if that wasn't obvious enough. otherwise, there'd be an annoying punk hovering around me like a damn fly."
That made Papyrus fold his arms with a cocky smirk. Sans didn't like that look.
"the fuck is that look for?"
"I WAS BEGINNING TO THINK YOU HAD GONE SOFT ON ME. YOU SEEMED TOO CLOSE TO HER AND NOW...HEH...IT LOOKS AS THOUGH I MISSED QUITE THE AMUSING FIGHT."
Sans glares strongly at his sibling, his current mood not helping matters much.
"piss off. i don't fucking like her!"
Now it was Papyrus's turn to glare.
"DO NOT TAKE THAT TONE WITH ME, SANS. I HAVE NO ISSUES WITH PUTTING YOU IN YOUR PLACE."
Sans huffs and claws the underside of the counter.
"whatever."
"WHATEVER INDEED. FOR WHATEVER THIS LITTLE THING THAT'S GOING ON WITH YOU AND HUMAN, IT BETTER NOT INTERFERE WITH ANY FUTURE ATTEMPTS ON TAKING HER SOUL."
"*scoff* trust me. that's the least of my concerns."
Papyrus sneers.
"I MEAN IT, SANS. I WON'T HAVE ANYTHING SCREW UP MY CHANCES OF COLLECTING THAT SOUL."
"i told you, that would be the stupidest thing you can do. that soul of her's ain't worth the trouble."
Papyrus slams his hands down on the counter, cracking some of the wood.
"IF YOU TRULY EXPECT ME TO BUY INTO THIS BLACK SOUL NONSENSE THAN YOU BETTER FIND A WAY TO PROVE TO ME THAT IT'S REAL!"
"and how do you expect me to do that? have it triggered and let her kill half the town?"
"OF COURSE NOT! SHE'D NEVER GET THAT FAR INTO SUCH A SPREE ONCE I SLAY HER."
Sans rolls his eyes and Papyrus snarls.
"YOU DON'T THINK I CAN KILL HER?"
"her? sure, you'd kill her no problem. she'd probably let you do it if things got really bad. but the black soul? that's a different story all together."
"YOU TALK AS THOUGH YOU'VE SEEN THIS 'BLACK SOUL' IN ACTION."
Sans breaks eye contact with his brother.
"YOU HAVE, HAVEN'T YOU?"
His clawing into the wood gets harsher.
"that thing isn't something you want to mess with. don't go after something you can't handle."
This is something Papyrus did not like hearing. So much so that he grabs Sans and yanks him over the counter by the scruff of his shirt's collar.
"YOU DARE THINK THAT PITIFUL CREATURE CAN HARM ME?!"
Sans is so not in the mood for this shit.
"no! i don't think it would harm you! i know it would kill you!"
Papyrus, being the colossal dick that he is, slams his brother into the snow hard.
"YOU MISERABLY PILE OF SHIT! HOW DARE YOU! IF YOU WEREN'T MY BROTHER I WOULD KILL YOU FOR SUCH SLANDER!"
"then fucking do it! if it means i don't have to put up with your shit anymore, then kill me now!"
To that, the great and terrible Papyrus flinched. They both remain motionless for a time. The only thing heard is the wind rustling trees in the background. Slowly though, Papyrus gets off Sans and leaves. Sans stays on the ground. His own words had struck him and his chest hurting for even saying them.
"Golly..."
The sudden voice has his head looking up behind him to see an amused yellow flower.
"I have seen a lot of things. And I mean a LOT of things. But that? That's a first in my book."
Sans groans.
"fuck off, weed. i'm not in the mood for any of your crap."
"Oh, I know. I heard everything."
Sans cocks his brow.
"...everything?"
"Yep. Everything. Seems you're more willing to chat with her than you ever were with me."
"to be fair, you don't make me want to talk. *growl* you piss me off to the point i want to pluck each and every petal from your bulb as slowly as possible."
Flowey sighs with a shrug.
"Oh Sans, just as bitter as ever even when the timeline treats you right."
That gets his attention and Sans rolls over.
"you...*rage* it was you! you were the one fucking with the timeline before frisk!"
The smirk that comes to Flowey is anything but innocent.
"Gee, took you long enough this time."
Sans bares his teeth as his left eye begins to flare.
"Wow. You look mad. I haven't seen you that mad since all those times in the Judgment Hall."
"i'll fucking kill you!"
Sans doesn't get to make a move against the mocking flower, as vines spring up from the ground to ensnare his limbs and keeping him down in the snow covered dirt.
"Ah ah ah. That isn't very nice. Don't you know this is a pacifist run?"
"i'm gonna rip your head off and shit down your neck!"
Flowey cringes a little bit.
"Okay, disturbing. Makes me think of questions I never want to know the answer to. That's a new feeling."
Sans pulls on his vine restraints, meeting stronger resistance than he thought he'd get from a flower.
"Look, I don't have a lot of time to waste while you struggle for no reason. I'm not here to be the big bad flower. I only want to talk. So if you'll calm down, I'll let you go."
"why the fuck should i believe that? for that matter, i can just kill ya right now and no one would know."
"Oh, you know as well as I that at least one person would know. And she won't take my death very well. Just as she didn't take it well the first time."
That made Sans pause. His magic dies down along with his thrashing.
"you...you remember the dead timeline?"
Flowey folds his leaves and huffs.
"I don't know what I was thinking. Go get Papyrus, you said. He'll help us, you said. That lunatic yanked my roots out of the ground so fast my entire life flashed before my eyes!"
Sans snickers.
"heh...dying sucks, don't it?"
"You would know. You've killed me plenty of times. And Frisk has done the same back at you. Guessing that's karma for you."
Sans didn't find that joke very funny. Though he was surprised when Flowey retracted his vines and set him free.
"See? You calmed down and I let you go. Now can we talk without having to attack or defend?"
Sans was still wary. This flower had many tricks he didn't know about or liked. Maybe he could spin this unexpected moment to his advantage and learn what it knows.
"fine..."
He sits himself up and leans back on his palms.
"ya wanna talk, weed? then let's talk."
Flowey sighs with relief and smiles childishly.
"Good. Because I have a few questions to ask you. Questions only you have the answers for."
"ask away. i doubt you got anything too crazy to ask."
"Alright...So tell me, Smiley Trashbag..."
The face of the flower morphs into a very dark and creepy thing. Hollow eyes and pointed fangs.
"Just how much have you told my dear sister?"
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alexiela73 · 7 years
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Prefall Gabe with an s/o who's usually cold and never speaks. Maybe one day the s/o stumbles across a little kitten who's been hurt and they get all mother like and take care of the kitten letting her guard down.
Jesus. You found my weakness. Big men and little kittens are fuckin’ cute. Actually, anything with kittens is pretty damn cute 
Honestly, Gabriel was kind of at the end of his rope with you. Not in a ‘I’m angry’ kind of way but more of a ‘I have no idea what else to do’ way. Everything that the man had tried to do so far seemed to have no effect on you when it came to getting you to open up or grow comfortable with him.
In a way, Gabe was sure that you must like him even just a little bit. You weren’t the type of person to stay around anyone that you didn’t like or hold interest in… At the same time though, you rarely spoke if ever, and when you did it was cold and without interest.
Sometimes he wondered why, out of everyone in Overwatch, you were the one his heart seemed to beat for. You never spoke to people, you always glared at people. You never took interest in others, nor did you allow people to befriend people. Mostly, you could be difficult to be around.
And yet….something about you had captured Gabriel’s attention, and god knows why, but also his heart. Although he couldn’t yet place it, something about you had caught his interest. Something appealed to him. Perhaps it was the mystery about you, or the way you focused on the tasks at hand.
Whatever it was, Gabriel had tried as hard as he could to get to know you. He was around you a lot, and may have admittedly pulled some strings to make sure you were always close by. Yet nothing worked, and you didn’t seem the least bit interested in him.
Right now Gabriel was walking a little behind you. You had been sent out to grab some supplies for the base, and the two of you were in Numbani right now. He’d decided that you might need a hand and had went with you…he’d thought that perhaps after almost five months of pursuing you, you might be up for chatting a little.
Still, you had ignored him and just continued on your merry way.
Rubbing his eyes, Gabriel was distracted when suddenly you stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. He actually bumped into you and grumbled his apology, but you didn’t seem to hear him as you turned around.
“What are you doing?” Gabriel asks after a moment.
It seemed…like you were looking for something. Your eyes scanned the street, before looking down and Gabriel found himself confused. What on earth were you looking for? Whatever it was, the way you kept looking told him that obviously it wasn’t in plain sight.
After a moment you looked at him and caught him by surprise. “Listen,” you murmur, and the two of you stand there, still as a statue. Gabriel honestly can’t believe that you spoke, and wondered what on earth could have brought you to have to talk to him….and then he heard it.
A small, faint meow.
Immediately you started walking back the way you came, but realized that there was actually an alley about five feet back. You glanced at Gabriel before going into the alleyway, with him right behind you.
The alley was littered with garbage and empty, soggy boxes. You tried to move stealthily, wanting to be as quiet as you can in hopes of not scaring the poor little creature, wherever it might be. Gabriel saw that your face was blank, but your eyes were what really gave away the worry you felt. 
There was a small rustle in the back of the alley, and Gabe grabbed your wrist suddenly. You almost turned to snap at him, except he had a finger to his lips and he pointed. Immediately your eyes followed to where he was pointing at. 
In the corner, half hidden under a soggy box that leaned against the wall, was a bit of brown fur. Slowly, you pushed closer and moved the box to the side…and gasped at what you found.
Laying there were two tiny kittens, surely no more then three weeks old. They were tiny and thin, and one was soaked from what looked like a leaking pipe along the building side. How the two kittens had gotten here, you had no clue, but the two were crying weakly.
“Y/n…that roadkill we saw a block back…,” Gabriel said slowly, and you realized what he was insinuating. Covering your mouth with one hand, you realized it had looked like it could have been a cat. And it had been already a day or so old, the roadkill…
Gabriel gently moved you to the side as you stared in shock, picking one up to cradle against his chest. The one he picked up was the wet one, and you noticed it looked like a tiny tabby kitten with a splash of white on its nose. The other mewled, and after a moment of hesitation you reached down to pick it up.
Oh, but how tiny it was. How fragile its little body felt…the poor kitten moved in your hands and you realized how cold it must be. Immediately you cupped it to your chest, just beneath your shirt and you kept both your hands around it. It took you only a moment to realize the kitten was not gray and brown, but actually white beneath a layer of dirt. 
It cried softly, and you felt whatever walls you had around your heart melt. Forgetting that Gabriel was there, you cooed softly to the little kitten. “Its alright, sweetheart. Its going to be okay. We’ll get you nice and warm and fed as soon as possible, okay?” you whispered to it.
Turning, you looked up at Gabriel with wide eyes and before you could open your mouth, you realized how painfully adorable the scene was before you.
Gabriel stood there, a big macho man, with a tiny little kitten nestled on his chest. He was cradling it in one hand and tenderly he was stroking the little creatures head with one finger, ever so gently. It had stopped crying, but you could see it was still breathing.
“We need to get back to headquarters,” you said finally, when you managed to get your voice back. “Perhaps Doctor Ziegler could help us…”
“She isn’t a vet,” Gabriel said gently, and you started to bristle until he spoke again. “But we have to try. Little Spooky here needs a nice warm bottle to nurse on, and so does little Snowflake there.”
It took you a moment to process this. “You…you named them?” you asked, even as Gabriel started out of the alley. Naming cats meant…well, naming any animal meant that for sure you’d already allowed it into ones heart. And you knew pets weren’t allowed at the base.
“Of course,” Gabe says, then winks. “Finders keepers, right? Besides, these two need a family and now I finally have an even better excuse to stick around you, since siblings should be brought up together.”
For a moment, you didn’t know what to say. “You….you’re letting me keep the kitten?” you asked in a small voice, staring at him.
Pausing, Gabriel eyed you. “Yes. Unless you don’t want Snowflake-erm, whatever you’d like to call it,” he said, shrugging and glancing away. He’d seen the way your eyes lit up with such innocent amazement when you’d picked up the kitten. He liked it, and the way your eyes softened as you held it. He wanted to see more of it…
Lifting the kitten, you looked it in its little dirty face. “Snowflake…” you murmur. “I like it…don’t worry, baby. We’ll take care of you. Mommy and daddy have you now.” You couldn’t help half tucking it into your shirt again, trying to keep the little kitten warm.
Gabe couldn’t help staring for a moment…had you just called the two of you mommy and daddy? Perhaps there was hope for this relationship after all. 
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@calmspirited
“You have something in your hair, umm. Do you want me to get it out?”               She just hopes to hell and back it's not a beetle.
“…In my hair? Oh, you mean this?” Feeling on top of his head, he gently patted to make sure what he thought was there was actually there, and sure enough, it was.
“This little guy’s name is Chin.” Jake pulls a little crow out of his hair, holding it gently in his palms and bringing it down to chest- level. The little crow had simply decided one day not long after he got here that his hair is a fine home for it.
“He’s been with me as long as I can remember in here. Want to hold him?” Jake held the bird out to Laurie, offering here to take it. He hopes she will be gentle with it.
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  As realization dawns on his face and he reaches for whatever little beastie has made his hair into a shaggy nest, Laurie can’t help but flinch. She’s dealt with plenty of dirty tactics from both the plaid-clad hellion and smarmy, smiling gambler that it’s practically a knee-jerk reaction at this point to expect the object of her inquiry to shoot her a grin before flicking an undesirable substance at her. Swamp water, sweat, even blood at times--she’d raised her hackles higher for every subsequent offense, so it’s a long fall she takes to a sober “oh” as he produces the tiny bird for her inspection.
  Looking more like a flustered cat with the ends of her hair still bristling from the influence of sparks that lingered in the air long after the Doctor had made his rounds, she bites her lip, torn between emitting a god awful “aw!” she usually reserved for special occasions like happening upon a box of kittens, or wiping furiously at the wet layer trembling over her irises as she winced with the sheer effort needed to negate her primary reaction to spying a small and defenseless creature. “Can I...?”
  From the sound of it, she has a hard time believing the bird’s keeper would just thrust it so willingly towards her when he knows as much about her as she does him--which isn’t much at all. The little bird feels lighter than a wad of cotton candy, she notes, once the saboteur drops the overfluffed thing into her palm. Cupping it carefully, she smiles as it tilts its head and gives her cautious caw. “I can't imagine what sort of grooming you must go through to keep this cutie-pie housed." But, she's guessing it involves combing chunks of bird crap out of his hair at odd hours of the night.
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