#au where instead of escaping trauma and being trapped in a loop

[anxiouspotatorants]

Maura wasn’t sure what they’d been expecting when Ciaran got her, Daniel and their son tickets to a cruise ship for Elliot’s birthday. But it probably wasn’t adopting the captain, mediating two separate three-way lovers’ quarrels, getting their son kidnapped by a Danish family looking for a playdate for their daughter, or witnessing an international tourist-crew romance in the buffet queue. “At least we have something to tell people,” Daniel comforted her with a laugh.

Stuck in the Middle: An 1899 modern cruise AU

(Raw images: not mine)

[neverendingtale]

✍️ Never Ending Tale!!

possible trigger warnings⚠️:

depression/anxiety.

mention of D*ath/Su*cide.

Psychological torture and trauma.

‼️The asking box is open, always!!

-Sumary:

This AU revolves around Frisk being trapped in an endless cycle of resets whenever they die, no matter how they die. They are unable to escape this cycle and always end up back at the beginning of the game. As they continue to go through different routes and make different choices, they become increasingly mentally tormented.

-General Infos:

Frisk can't load after a true ending (pacifist/geno).

flowey can only remember the resets withing a run (like in the game).

no, sans doesn't remember the resets

frisk can only go back to the save points they saved Mid run when they die.

their determination is still there.

-Lore, (I guess):

In this Undertale AU, Frisk has completed a true pacifist route and has been living a happy life with their new monster friends. However, one day they unexpectedly die, and instead of simply passing away, the timeline resets to when Frisk first fell into the Underground. Confused and sad, Frisk is grateful for a second chance and tries to attain their happy ending once again.

However, no matter how many times Frisk tries to live their life differently, they always end up in the same place when they die. They even attempt different routes, befriending or killing random monsters, but nothing seems to change the outcome. As days turn into weeks, weeks turn into months, and even years go by, Frisk's mental health deteriorates as they become trapped in an endless cycle of resets.

Despite their best efforts, Frisk can't escape the cycle. They try resetting mid-runs, hoping to debunk their misconception, but it's no use. Even if they die slowly, they always end up back where they started. As a result, Frisk becomes apathetic to life, barely reacting to anything, and ignoring the save points because they know it won't matter later.

Frisk's determination only grows with each passing day, hoping that one day they can embrace the freedom of death. However, the more determined they become, the stronger their resetting powers grow, causing the cycle to become even more vicious. The reason for this lies in Frisk's determination, which is also the reason they can reset in the first place.

During some of the resets, Frisk tries to find a way to get to the Core or the True Lab to see if they can find anything related to determination. They even manage to talk to Sans about it a few times, but he forgets everything in newer resets. Only Flowey can remember a few of the resets, but he can't recall any from other runs, only within the current run.

As time passes, Frisk's mental state continues to worsen. They spend days sitting in one spot, waiting for sweet death to take them, but it never comes. Despite everything, Frisk can't seem to escape the endless loop of resets, making for a bleak and miserable existence.

note: I made the AI recreate my ver because, screw dyslexia..

[kariachi]

A post-Third Times the Charm au fic, featuring a Kevin and a Mike and people not just being fine after shit.

~~

A man like Kevin, who had been getting used to living entirely on his own, at no point wanted to wake up to noise in his livingroom. In fact, the only thing that kept him from switching into paranoid mode was Argit rolling off of his chest with a grumble, curling tighter under the blankets.

“Go shut your guest up.”

“Yeah yeah, working on it.” Shaking himself wake, Kevin rolled out of bed and headed into the main section of the apartment. They’d left Mike to sleep alone on the couch, since he’d been so visibly uncomfortable with both sleeping in a dead-end and with sharing his sleeping space, and it seemed that had only been half a good idea. He had both the computer and the television turned on, the former playing a ten-hour loop of traffic noises and the latter having been commandeered so the man could play Bayonetta at two in the morning. With a heavy sigh and a quick reminder that he’d chosen to take him from Rook and handle the situation himself (half because he’d looked tense enough to break Rook’s arm to escape if he felt he had too, half because damnit if Gwen wanted to help Charm instead of throw her somewhere she’d never see the light of day again Kevin wanted everyone and anyone she may target warded) Kevin collapsed onto the couch beside him, inching away when Mike tensed.

“Just.. what the fuck, man?” Mike shrugged, eyes never leaving the screen.

“It was too quiet.” Oh, well, that explained that. Part of Kevin was used enough to Mike’s manipulative bullshit to be suspicious, but if he was playing he’d chosen exactly the right trap to lay.

“Quiet.” Mike almost smiled, a look that was more of a grimace darting across his face like a spooked deer.

“Months in a fucking bag with no one or thing around but Adwaita, who is officially my third most hated person in the galaxy- by the way, I never got to thank you for ruining Morgg’s life.”

“You’re very welcome, I’m just sorry I didn’t manage to kill him.”

“As are we all. But it was months with just him and, her-” There was a bit of vindication to having somebody speak of Charmcaster with the same tone Kevin used. “-and then Hex who just- Have you ever wondered where she gets it? He’s where she gets it and I swear to fuck I was this close-” A snap cut him off as the controller all but shattered in his grip. Kevin didn’t say anything, just leaning over to replace it with one of the spares while Mike took several deep breathes, presumably to steady himself. He accepted the new controller without comment and returned to the game, struggling to salvage the level. “Months where I was either dealing with those bastards, dealing with her, or dealing with the silence. It wasn’t fun.”

Kevin just nodded. Mike could have been playing him, setting up some plan or another- he certainly wouldn’t put it passed him to come up with something like that on the fly if he had to- but he’d dealt with too much trauma himself to be an ass about it, just in case. After all, he still fought off breakdowns every time he was bound in any way, nightmares were commonplace, and he was just as happy not to hear Charmcaster’s name as Mike was not to say it. So yeah, he accepted it. The Tennysons would probably give him shit for it if it did turn out to be a ploy of some sort, but he wasn’t risking it.

“And Bayonetta?”

“I needed to hit something.” Another thing Kevin could totally understand. Been there, done that, bought the postcard, mailed it. He pulled out a smile.

“Well, I guess we did fail to have an invasion for you to fight off when we set you free.” And there was a matching one from Mike. Small, but there.

“It was very rude of you, you know. I’m not in my best shape right now, but you could’ve at least had something for me to punch ready.”

“You mean besides me?”

“You’re hardly even worth the effort. It’d be about as fulfilling as punching a koala, or something equally brainless.” Relaxing back into the couch, Kevin chuckled.

“You sure it’s that and not that hitting me is like hitting a brick wall?”

“I’ve broken those before.”

“But last I checked you could only get a black eye on me.” Mike paused the game and finally looked at him, discomfort seemingly forgotten for the moment (‘Good.’) in the overwhelming need to glare at him.

“Neither of us had our powers at the time and you damn well know it! If I punched you now you’d be in the ER in a half hour.” Kevin just shrugged.

“I doubt it.” He quickly threw up a hand before Mike could argue. “Oh I don’t doubt you’d crack some bones, but they’d be mostly healed in an hour anyway, so it wouldn’t be worth the trouble. And I’m definitely too sturdy for you to shatter anything.” With a huff, Mike turned back to the game.

“It’d still be worse than a black eye.”

“I’ll give you that, yeah.”

For a brief time, the two lapsed into silence, joined only by the sounds of the game and of the sort’ve traffic that would’ve never gotten passed the apartment’s soundproofing. Mike wasn’t as tense as he’d been when Kevin woke up, but he certainly still wasn’t calm. It didn’t seem likely that he was going to try to go to sleep again, and Kevin wasn’t entirely comfortable with the idea of him sitting up alone through the night. With this in mind, he watched him game for several minutes, hissing curses in three languages whenever his health got low, before getting off the couch at the end of the level.

“Save the game,” he said as he went for his gaming cabinet. “If we’re gonna be sitting up then we’re at least playing something co-op.” Mike didn’t respond, but the game’s music cut off after a moment and a few footfalls later a familiar face was hanging over his shoulder, looking at the portion of his collection that hadn’t already been out. Kevin let him scan the cases without comment, biting back a smile when his eyes went wide and excited. He hadn’t been sure Mike could look excited about normal things.

“You have Digimon games!?” Okay, yeah, no, the smile wasn’t going to be held back.

“Yeah,” he said, pulling them out, “you want World 4, or All-Star Rumble?”

[lunaraen]

July 27: Fusion AU

Jesse hasn't spent much time outside of fusions during this adventure.

(Adventure isn't the best word for it, though.

Nightmare?

Disaster?

Armageddon?

Jesse wouldn't normally go with the last word, but Lukas has a different, more extensive and poetic vocabulary, and they both like the suggestion.)

Fusions require cooperation and are best done when the involved people aren't stressed out of their minds and ready to hide in the dirt forever, but there's enough trust between them that they can manage even during the end of the world.

There's a comfort in that.

Fusions are also almost necessary at this point, capable of doing more than one or two people by themselves, able to run faster, carry more, and do more damage.

Jesse knows some of the worse things that could be said of that, that the group is too weak to function on their own and needs to fuse, that Jesse must need to fuse to be useful since Jesse's been the one doing the most fusing, but there's also the fact that Jesse might just be one of the only things holding the group together.

That's not meant to be bragging, because it's exhausting and not fun in any way, and it does make things harder sometimes, when Jesse has to pull out of a fusion to stop more fighting or make a decision not meant for the others.

Not that they wouldn't be capable, or that fusions couldn't still get the job done, but sometimes it's stuff like the F-Bomb, deadly and dangerous, and Jesse refuses to let anyone else throw themselves in harm's way. Not everyone agrees with that idea, but, well, fusion is usually at least a two way street.

Neither Axel or Olivia would try to keep Jesse in a fusion, make it a trap instead of an experience or make their fusions unstable, and so it only really takes Jesse's refusal.

Maybe they want to help, but Jesse would never let them run into danger if there's a way around it.

Jesse survives the Formidi-Bomb, anyhow, even if the Witherstorm depressingly does too, and the following group hug is tight and relieved enough that Jesse's surprised a fusion doesn't happen then and there.

It gets significantly less joyful once Ellegaard dies.

(Soren tries to get her to fuse with him then and there, insistent that fusing would increase her chances of surviving, but Ellegaard refuses to let him risk himself, giving the same refusal to Magnus and Gabriel afterwards.

She says something about wanting to die as who she is at her core, as a real hero for once, and while that might cover not wanting to kill her friends and their fusions with her injuries, there's more to the statement that gets the Order members to stop arguing, to watch quietly as her breathing shudders, chest heaving one last time, before she goes limp.)

There's yelling and fighting after that, after they try to move on only for the storm, the storms, to rise and shriek and destroy what Ellegaard died for.

That makes fusion both desirable and the last thing Jesse needs, because hiding away, becoming more, sound perfect and also too much like cowering when there's things Jesse has to argue for, has to think over. Arguing with Soren one on one, pushing against his fury, instead of becoming a different person feels like the right thing to do.

Just like going out in the snow, both to comfort Reuben and figure out where to go next, feels right when done alone.

Jesse wants some alone time in general, to process how Ellegaard's death is on Jesse's hands, the same as the trauma of all the people they couldn't save, how Gabriel's condition is only getting worse and Petra's memory of anything to with all of them is entirely gone is also entirely Jesse's fault.

Until Jesse runs into Lukas, at least, bright eyed and worrying his horse's reins between his fingers as he glances between the world outside, a flurry of slowly falling snow and quickly escalating mayhem, and the rest of the group huddled within the cave.

The long and the short of it is that he wants to go after the Ocelots, Petra's description too close to them for it to be anybody else, and he wants to go after them, to find them.

Jesse can't blame him for that and doesn't. Lukas, despite his best efforts and all the help he's given them, has been the outsider, blamed at first for losing Petra and then slowly accepted, with guarded looks and more of a weary agreement to let things lie from Axel than a warming up to.

There's probably also something to be said for how, for all their fusing, none of them have fused with Lukas. They haven't had the history with him that they've had with each other, used to him being a rival and looking down on them and what they do. It can be hard to open up to somebody like that, especially someone they used to compete with and definitely during the end of the world, and fusion requires that kind of bond.

Every fusion has been a reminder that Lukas isn't part of the group, not really part of the team, and it's a reminder of the people he has fused with, the friends he thought he lost until now.

Jesse won't try to hold any of that against him. When none of them know what to do next, at least Lukas has an idea, a plan.

He wants to be with his friends and make sure they're okay.

Those friends might be people Jesse has never gotten along with, but Jesse's not petty enough for that, not now when everything's gone wrong and everyone's so tired.

The hug is short but warm, and understood by both to likely be the last they'll see each other in a while, if not the last time altogether.

Except that when Jesse's eyes open, Lukas isn't there, the cave is considerably more cramped than they would like, and they're stumbling into the snow before they realize they'd even begun to move.

Strike that.

Jesse knows exactly where Lukas is, because he's where Jesse is. He's what Jesse is now, who they are.

An odd time to fuse, maybe, but Jesse's sense of being is melting quickly into Lukas's own and the wonder of existing at all, of being whoever they are. A small chuckle, made more out of surprise than humor, bubbles its way out their throat as they clutch at their hair, one hand going there while the other covers their mouth.

Others, actually. There's a third arm, as lanky as the other two, the hand attached to it shifting quickly to busy itself with prodding at their clothing and the rest of their body.

The lock of hair they manage to grab, pulling into view, is curly, looping between their fingers and easily tugged at by the wind. The bright and pale blond, almost more silver than Lukas's nearly golden hair, stands out well against the dark clouds, rumbling in the distance with thunder, heavy snow, and the screams of a monster.

They would have thought their hair would be dirty blond, a mix of Lukas's hair color and Jesse's brown.

There's another comfort in realizing they'd both already wondered what their fusion what look like, and that they'd both come to the same conclusion on at least a few details.

Being proven wrong by the reality doesn't bother them at all, not any more than it's pleasantly surprising.

It doesn't take long to figure out there are two tongues inside their mouth, lined with smooth teeth that grow sharper the further back they are, or that they now have a long scarf, useful against the current weather and curled around their neck, the flesh there oddly icy. They're tall, though there are far taller fusions out there; this is just one that gives both of them a chance to be at eye level with Axel, if maybe a bit lankier.

They're both startled and not shocked at all when Reuben nudges their leg, tilting his head as he looks up at them.

They'd both forgotten he was there and never stopped thinking about it, and their attention easily shifts to him, his skin oddly warm as they scratch behind both his ears.

Maybe that's them, then?

Their body that's cold, instead of his being toasty, or maybe it has something to do with the environment they fused in, or how they've never fused before.

Another chuckle, this one filled with more warmth, escapes them as Reuben leans into their touch after stiffening for a moment, and there's something to be said for how he'll take attention, even if it's cold. They don't mind crouching more, getting onto their knees even as snow clings to the worn kneecaps of their jeans, to better let him get comfortable with them, to know they don't mind being there for him.

The amusement dies then and there as they're reminded of where they are, who they are, the soft crunch of feet trudging through the snow behind them having them spin around as they draw themselves to their full height again.

There's panic and considerably surprise then, protests about how they don't want to keep Lukas from leaving, or force Jesse to go with, dying on their tongues as they freeze up.

It's just Axel and Olivia, but it's also the end of the world and they're far more Jesse's friends than they are Lukas's.

"Hey, if you want to go, then get. But give Jesse back first." Axel's voice is worn, defeated and tired as the flat looks he levels at them, and they don't miss the way his jaw clenches or how his fingers curl into fists.

Neither does Olivia, if her tugging on the elbow of his sleeve and hissing back at him is any indication.

"Axel, you know that's not how it works."

Whether that's how it works normally or not, it's enough in this case, and he gets what he asked for.

It may be the shock and panic of being caught, of being viewed as a trap, or it may be the faint but steadily growing argument, Ivor and Soren sniping at each other with hardly a pause between words, which is equally startling, but whatever's the reason, they unfuse as quickly as they came into existence, Lukas and Jesse both staggering into the snow as they pull away from each other.