#discrete optimization

[kuramirocket]

Jorge Urrutia Galicia: A Mexican Pioneering Mathematician And Computer Scientist

Jorge Urrutia Galicia is a Mexican computer scientist and mathematician.

Galicia is best known for his work on geometry. He made contributions to many different areas of mathematics, including discrete geometry, discrete optimization, and computational geometry. His specialty in computational geometry has made him recognized as one of the leading researchers worldwide. His research has also focused on combinatorial optimization, which is related to combinatorial game theory.

His early works dealt with problems of separability and visibility, a field in which he is an indisputable authority. While it is clear that mathematics has always played a basic role as the underlying foundation of all technology, especially now, and in this case it is confirmed why the technological scope of Dr. Urrutia’s articles in routing is significant; suffice to mention just one: recently algorithms are being implemented based on the ideas of Dr. Urrutia, to make communication networks that can be used in case of natural disasters.

Since the end of the 20th century, he began to work on routing problems, developing algorithms for both the combinatorial and geometric problems, which literally founded a work area of great importance in its application to wireless and cellular networks. In the 21st century, Dr. Urrutia has also stood out for his numerous contributions to the study of discrete sets of points, on which he has made decisive contributions, both in their solution and formulating various variants.

Dr. Jorge Urrutia Galicia studied a bachelor’s degree in mathematics at the Faculty of Sciences of UNAM from 1971 to 1974, and a master’s and doctoral degree in mathematics at the University of Waterloo, Canada from 1976 to 1980. He has worked at the Metropolitan Autonomous University-Iztapalapa, CIMAT, Carleton University, Ottawa University from 1984-1998, where he was "full professor", and since 1998 at the Institute of Mathematics of the UNAM. On average, he teaches five courses each year (two undergraduate and three postgraduate courses).

Annually, he organizes at least two research workshops in Mexico, one of its main objectives being that its students know and work with renowned researchers and learn to collaborate with them as equals.

From 1990 to 2000, he was editor-in-chief of the journal Computational Geometry, Theory and Applications, published by Elsevier Science Publishers. He has been a member of the editorial boards of the Mexican Mathematical Society Bulletin and of Graphs and Combinatorics (Springer, and Computational Geometry: Theory and Applications (Elsevier). He was also editor of the Handbook of Computational Geometry (2000), one of Elsevier's first published handbooks.

He has published more than 270 articles in conference proceedings and research journals in mathematics and computing, which have received more than 6,000 citations, among the most important are two articles on routing in ad-hoc and wireless networks, which have received more than 2 600 citations together: “Compass Routing in Geometric Graphs” and “Routing with Guaranteed Delivery in Ad Hoc Wireless Networks.” In these investigations, Dr. Urrutia develops new strategies – highly efficient – to send information on wireless networks that take advantage of the characteristics obtained by recent technologies such as GPS, in addition to allowing them to travel through these networks effectively without having knowledge of their topology. It is worth mentioning that in 2012 he was the most cited mathematician of the UNAM.

He has given more than 40 plenary lectures at international congresses on Computational Geometry. He was editor-in-chief of "Computational Geometry, Theory and Applications" from 1990 to 2000. He has supervised more than 55 bachelor, master and doctoral theses.

In 2015, he received the "National University in Research in Exact Sciences" award at UNAM. He is is a member of the National System of Investigators, Level 3 He has organized and participated in the organizing committees of several national congresses including the "Victor Neumann-Lara Colloquium on Graphic Theory and its Applications", the "Canadian Conference on Computational Geometry", the "Japan Conference on Discrete and Computational Geometry" and the "Computational Geometry Meetings" (Spain). Oher countries where he has also participated in this way are Italy, Indonesia, Philippines, China, Canada, Peru and Argentina, as well as his home country, Mexico.

Source: (x) (x) (x)

[lifeinked]

Why I Love Caitlyn, and Why You Hate Her

⚠️ READER DISCRETION: I am not condoning Caitlyn’s actions and behavior, I am simply exploring the depth of her character and explaining what motivated her pursuit of revenge.

There’s no denying the gravity of Caitlyn’s actions as they are unquestionably wrong. However, her character cannot be reduced to these actions alone. This sudden, devastating behavior of hers is shaped by a thread of complex motivations and circumstances, but many choose not to acknowledge this simply because of her elite background. 

Like many others, I initially overlooked the point of the gassing in Zaun, which I think is a crucial thing everyone must first understand before diving into the discourse over Caitlyn's character. 

The Grey, often misunderstood as being used indiscriminately, was strategically deployed against the Chem-Barons to limit collateral damage. Caitlyn chose precision over chaos, targeting those directly responsible for Zaun’s turmoil. Furthermore, Caitlyn didn’t kill the Chem-Barons; she captured them, with net-deploying bullets. While her methods are controversial, they reflect a calculated approach; mischaracterizing her raid as a reckless attack ignores these details.

This isn’t to deny or excuse the fact that Caitlyn did, indeed, gas Zaun. Who’s to say that gas didn’t seep into the streets where innocent Zaunites roamed, harming them in the process? It’s entirely possible that innocents were affected and devastated. However, my brief explanation is only added to gain better perspective over the objectives of the gassing itself.

Now moving on, despite her privileged upbringing, Caitlyn shows a genuine effort to understand and connect with Zaunites. She places her trust in Vi, a Zaunite she’s never met before, to guide her in her search for Silco. Her journey through the undercity opens her eyes to the struggles of its people, challenging her perspective.

In S1E4, when investigating the airship attack, she encounters an undercity resident and reassures him, “I can protect you.” Later in the season, when Vi gets stabbed, Caitlyn encounters someone formerly connected to Vi. He’s grown a distaste over himself due to his appearance, and yet Caitlyn embraces him with compassion and tenderness, as a silent sign of gratitude. Then, she surrenders her cherished firearm—her only means of protection—in return for a healing potion to save Vi. In S1E7, Caitlyn’s heartfelt monologue in her conversation with Ekko perfectly captures her hope and determination: “This city needs healing. More than I ever realized. Please, let me help you.”

When Caitlyn and Vi stand in front of the Council, Caitlyn declares: “Councilors, this is Vi. She was born in the undercity. Even though we failed her in countless ways, she risked everything to show me what life is really like down there. People are starving, sick, ravaged by Shimmer. They live in constant fear of the coordinated efforts of violent crime lords.” This monologue alone shows how Caitlyn embodies optimism, believing in the inherent goodness of people, even Zaunites. It also shows that she is very willing to fight for them; she sees helping Zaunites as an act of bringing justice and equality into this world.

Many overlook the depth of Cassandra and Caitlyn’s relationship, reducing it to a simple narrative of a daughter mourning her mother. However, Caitlyn’s mourning is more layered than that. Throughout her life, she has been rebellious, driven by a desire to uncover the reality her mother tried to shield her from. In S1E4, Caitlyn reflects on this by saying, “She’d do anything to keep me from seeing the real world.” Caitlyn’s defiance wasn’t just rebellion for its own sake—it was a stand for her ideals. She sought enlightenment and understanding, even if it meant stepping outside the privileged bubble her mother built for her. By venturing into the undercity and aligning herself with Vi, Caitlyn rejected her mother's own ideals.

Here's another scene in S1E8 that emphasizes this:

Cassandra: You're a Councilor's daughter. Your actions reflect on the entire body. Caitlyn: My actions? You know what else reflects on the Council? Its citizens living on the streets. Being poisoned. Having to chose between a kingpin who wants to exploit them and a government who doesn't give a shit!

In a way, her actions mirror Vi’s: just as Vi betrayed her people by working with the enforcers, Caitlyn betrayed her own mother by involving herself with Zaunites. Remember: The last time we see Caitlyn and Cassandra interact on-screen is during Caitlyn’s plea before the Council. And in that moment, Caitlyn was fighting to protect the very kind that would soon kill her own mother.

You say that Caitlyn’s drastic shift is unjustified, as she’s only experienced a fraction of the suffering Zaunites have been enduring. But that’s precisely the point! Her transformation shows how personal loss can drive the change of one’s entire character; she’s never experienced loss before which is why it feels so heavy for her. And unlike Zaunites, Caitlyn actually has the power to act on her grief. Zaunites have only known misery their whole lives. When their loved one dies, they know there is nothing more they can do but grieve. They don’t have an inch of the privilege and military support Caitlyn has. If you had given them the same resources as Caitlyn, they wouldn’t hesitate to bring ruin to Piltover. Simply put, they don’t fight Piltovans because they don’t want to, but because they can’t.

When Jinx takes her mother away, her compassionate ideals completely shatter. Having always sought justice and understanding for Zaun, Caitlyn feels deeply betrayed, as her faith in the good within every Zaunite is overturned. Her mother’s death becomes a turning point—driving her to abandon her ideals and adopt Piltover’s disdain for the undercity, finally understanding the resentment many Piltovans harbor.

We also tend to forget that, aside from losing her mother, Caitlyn has directly suffered under the hands of Jinx. Caitlyn was held captive by Jinx in Season 1—and God knows what was done to her during that period. In the tea party scene, we see Caitlyn break down in tears, visibly flinching when Jinx moves toward her. It’s clear that Jinx has traumatized Caitlyn not just once, but twice. These experiences deeply shape Caitlyn’s actions moving forward. The pain and fear she’s endured push her to a place where she’s willing to sacrifice almost anything, even if it means putting a child’s life at risk (Isha's) or severing ties with Vi.

While they share their differences, Caitlyn and Jinx are the perfect example of foil characters. Here’s an instance which proves this: Both allow themselves to be influenced by manipulative, powerful figures all while being in a vulnerable state of mind.

Jinx is haunted by guilt; her attempt to save her family only ended up killing them, leaving her with the crushing weight of self-blame. She clings to Silco, not because he was the father she needed, but because he was the father she wanted. Silco indulged her destructive tendencies, keeping her at an all-time high on the edges of chaos. Fragile and broken, Powder crossed paths with Silco at the right moment; he saw the perfect chance to mold her into someone bewildered, unrestrained, and astray.

Caitlyn has her own Silco: Ambessa, the ruthless Noxian leader with a brutal philosophy of war. Ambessa enters Caitlyn’s life at a pivotal moment, stepping in just as Caitlyn is grappling with the devastating loss of her mother. In a spiral of self-identity, Caitlyn struggles with the weight of Piltover’s expectations and her unresolved guilt over her strained relationship with her mother (as explained in previous paragraphs). Just as young Powder mourns her family, Caitlyn blames herself for the death of her mother. Caitlyn got herself involved with the Zaunites even when she was warned not to, and at the expense of her defiance came the death of her mother. Driven by guilt and a thirst for vengeance, Caitlyn steps fully into her role, declaring in S2E1: “I am a decorated officer. Leader of House Kiramman.”

Jinx and Caitlyn share a tragic parallel: they both lose everyone they hold dear. Jinx loses Vi, Vander, Claggor, and Mylo. Caitlyn is left without Cassandra, Vi, Jayce, Mel, and Tobias. Stripped of their support systems, they are left isolated, with no one to confide in or rely on. They become vulnerable, used as pawns in the larger schemes of Silco and Ambessa’s strategic games.

Caitlyn's inner turmoil is exactly why Ambessa’s manipulation is so effective. Caitlyn is compelled to take revenge, but she doesn’t know how to. And without anyone else to guide her, she places her complete trust in Ambessa's expertise. Ambessa doesn’t just give Caitlyn the authority and power to avenge her mother; she teaches her how to use them to their full potential. She toys with Caitlyn's vulnerability, making her adopt the Noxian values of wrath, bloodshed, and ruthlessness. 

It’s easy to downplay Caitlyn’s grief since she comes from an elite upbringing. While Cassandra Kiramman is laid to rest in a golden casket with a proper burial, countless innocents in Zaun become victims of merciless violence, being left to die on the streets. After the timeskip however, Caitlyn is shown to recognize the moral cost of her actions. Though the series portrays this realization subtly, it becomes evident that Caitlyn is grappling with the inhumanity and immorality of her pursuit of revenge. In S2E4, this internal conflict comes to light during her conversation with Ambessa. When Ambessa attempts to stoke her fury again, Caitlyn disarms her with a piercing question: “Why is peace always the justification for violence?”

Here's another scene that subtly depicts her realization and remorse:

Caitlyn: You're a monster. Why? Why do all this? Singed: Why does anyone commit acts others deem unspeakable? ... For love.

When Caitlyn steps further and sees Orianna, she realizes that Singed's revenge is a reflection of her own: a person grieving the death of their family member. Here, there's a saddened glint in her eyes. She finally understands now, that love and grief made her do things that once seemed so foreign to her. In this case, going against her own principles just to succeed in her revenge.

Caitlyn is now forever haunted by the outcome of her mistakes, but she knows her past cannot be erased. During her confrontation with Jinx in the prison, she admits, “No amount of good deeds can undo our crimes.” While this statement is directed at Jinx, it feels like Caitlyn also holds this against herself for her own wrongdoings. 

Caitlyn’s acts of atonement are done quietly. She’s not good with words; she’s bad at articulating how she feels. Ironically, Vi is much better than Caitlyn when it comes to confronting and vocalizing internal conflict. So instead, Caitlyn’s actions speak for herself. By removing the guards at the prison, she tacitly allows Vi the opportunity to rescue Jinx. She knows Vi will come to save her sister, and yet she lets her. She finally lets go of Jinx and the grudge she held against her, as a silent act of her love for Vi.

And in S2E9, Sevika is shown to be sitting among the Councilors. But thanks to a fan's keen eyes, we find out that she is sat particularly on Cassandra Kiramman's chair (which not many notice). By allowing a Zaunite to occupy her mother's seat, Caitlyn gives them a chance to be rightfully represented, a chance for their voices and suffering to finally be heard. It’s a quiet display of Caitlyn’s evolution and willingness to bridge the divide between Piltover and Zaun.

That said, Arcane’s ending left much to be desired regarding Caitlyn’s arc. The heavy focus on Hextech overshadowed the sociopolitical dynamics of Piltover and Zaun. This is the main reason a lot of hate is thrown toward Caitlyn—there is an act of accountability, but there a lack of consequence. While Caitlyn acknowledges her mistakes, her privileged status keeps her from real repercussions, unlike the tragedy other characters had to face. This is frustrating, even to me, as someone whose favorite character is Caitlyn. Yet, in a way, it realistically portrays the inequalities in our own world—where the elite are often shielded from justice, and repentance is the closest they ever come to redemption.

[sobbingscripter]

⋆.˚🌷༘⋆this is an mdni blog so... You know, viewer discretion

⋆.˚🌷༘ you can call me... Later *rubs hands deviously and rizztastically*

⋆.˚🌷༘ she/her

⋆.˚🌷༘ 19

⋆.˚🌷༘ writer for mlw and wlw

⋆.˚🌷༘ i get to requests when i feel like i'm in the optimal position to complete that specific request so i don't always complete them in the order i receive them

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⋆.˚🌷༘ i can do: one shots; drabbles; or just headcanons

⋆.˚🌷༘ my only weakness? *sighs nonchalantly* I'm just... Too hung. Like, it's actually a problem. My wiener tends to drag against the concrete, and it leaves delves in the pavements (i lowkey need to be attracted to a character to write them so like, i go watch a bunch of edits, do some research and go use them on character ai to see if i can envision a life with them)

all of these works are my own creations, except the characters (except riot. he's from my brain) please do not plagiarize, steal, copy, translate or post elsewhere without asking for consent. i work really hard on these and i've got the tears to prove it.

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⋆.🌺࿔*:･ seasonal: 11 days of christmas 2025

These are drabbles so... They're in a display case :3 because they're tiny and little displays of the writing style that's in my more... Wordier works

⋆ neighbours (frank castle)

⋆⋆ morning glow (damian wayne)

⋆⋆⋆ beastly (garfield logan)

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ᴀʟʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟᴇᴄᴛᴜᴀʟ ᴘʀᴏᴘᴇʀᴛʏ ᴏꜰ @ꜱᴏʙʙɪɴɢꜱᴄʀɪᴘᴛᴇʀ

[gojos-thot-patrol]

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Starring: True from! Sukuna in a cabin in the woods... Synopsis: You don't see the point in it; chasing myths on Halloween night, going deeper into the woods than you ever had before. You'd rather be at home than chasing ghosts. But, your best friend insists on finding evidence of the local urban legends, and surely she won't abandon you the moment you find what shes been hunting, right? Content Warning: Tonight we are serving True form (two dicks) Sukuna, double penetration, tummy bulges, cunnilingus, kidnapping, marking, slight dubcon, and a soft Sukuna if you squint. reader discretion is advised

“So, remind me again why we’re taking a walk in the woods on Halloween night?” You asked your friend, narrowly avoiding a thorn vine as you pushed past the brush. 

“Because, historically speaking, people tend to see it on Halloween!” She explained, holding up her camera, “It’s our best chance of finding evidence of the spider demon.” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at her optimism.

“I don’t know if “Historically” is the right word to use there,” you grumbled softly as you continued your walk together. Ever since the two of you had started taking that Folklore Studies class for an extra college credit she had become obsessed with the local urban legend: The Spider Demon. To her credit, it was a genuinely interesting topic. 

As far back as town hall kept records of, there were sightings of the beast: a giant humanoid man that was covered in ancient markings, with four arms, four eyes, and a giant mouth on his abdomen. Rumor has it, he was the one at fault for all the disappearances that plagued your small town, dragging poor, innocent souls into some far off lair and feasting on their flesh. 

The sane people knew the real reason for the disappearances though; most of those kids hopped a train and got the fuck out of that dying town while they still could. You couldn’t say you blamed them. If you didn’t go to school here, one of the cheaper colleges around, you wouldn’t be here either. 

Your thoughts came to a halt as the two of you came up on an old stream. You knew it well as the boundary between where it was acceptable to play in the woods, and where was off limits. Everyone in the town had followed this rule. Your great grandparents had this rule engraved in their soul as kids, just as your parents and grandparents had, just as you had. And just as your kids would one day. No one really knew why you weren’t supposed to cross the water, just that you weren’t.

And your best friend was trying to hop across. “Hey! What the hell do you think you’re doin’?!” You yelled as you grabbed her arm and pulled her back. She looked at you as if you had just grown two extra heads.

"I'm crossing the stream?" She asked as if you were the insane one here.

"Yeah, I can see that dipshit!" You snapped, "Why the hell would you do that?!"

"To get to the other side?"

"What are you, a chicken?! You know we're not supposed to cross this stream." Your friend dramatically rolled her eyes, making her annoyance clear.

"The only chicken here is you Y/n." She scoffed. "Come on, it's just water. It can't hurt you." She said in a tone meant to mock assurance. It grinded your bones and made you wonder why you were friends to begin with.

"Don't be like that. Everyone in this town has been told since birth not to cross that stream, there has to be a reason why."

"The reason why is probably so little kids don't drown." She explained as if it was the most obvious thing in the entire world. It made you want to rearrange her teeth. "I'm going to cross the stream and keep the hunt going, are you with me or not Y/n?" She asked.

You took a deep breath. You absolutely were not with her. Every fiber in your being was setting off red flags, you could hear your ancestors screaming at you to turn around, somewhere from the great beyond, both Cain and Abel look at you and say "girl, don't do it." 

And yet, you started to jump across the rocks. As annoying as your friend was, she was still your friend, and you couldn't let her go alone. Your ancestors all collectively face palm, your nerves explode, Cain turns to Abel and shakes his head. There's no saving you now. You swore the air temperature dropped by at least three degrees as you made it to the other side of the stream. You cursed softly as you wrapped your jacket tighter around you, and rushed to catch up with your friend.

“See? We crossed the water and we didn’t explode! Some rules are just made to be broken.” She seemed confident in that, but you still weren’t. Something was so…off. Wrong. But you couldn’t figure out what. The moon was still as full as ever, lighting your way as the two of you walked. Your friend seemed fine, as chatty as hell even. And you were physically okay. Leaves crunched under your shoes, and the crickets chirped-

Wait. No they didn’t. “Hey, shush.” You demanded of your friend.

“What!? Why should I-”

“I said Shut. Up.” You snapped, an unfamiliar edge to your voice taking even you by surprise. She shut up, and you struggled to listen to the sounds of the forest. Except, there were no sounds of the forest. No crickets singing, no owls hooting, not even the rustle of a field mouse in the grass. The woods were completely silent, filled with nothing but the sound of your breathing. 

“Do you hear that?” You asked your friend.

“I don’t hear anything.” She scoffed.

“Exactly. We need to turn back.”

“What?! No way!” She protested with a stomp of her foot. You were really starting to think that Darwinism would not look kindly upon your friend.

“The woods are completely quiet.” You pointed out, “That doesn’t happen unless it has a reason to be quiet. We’re not welcome here.” You tried to argue. You would have been better off arguing with the moon itself. Your friend just shook her head as she continued to walk.

“The woods are always quiet Y/n, its what makes it so peaceful, or whatever.”

“But not this quiet!” You pleaded as you chased after her, still not willing to let her die out here alone. “Dude, please, we need to go-!”

“Ooo, whats that!” Your “best friend” quickly changed the topic as she pointed out a building off in the distance, running off to check it out. You felt your stomach fall to the floor. Who would build anything out here? You ran to follow her, deciding to just drag her back home if you had to. 

“Its a house!” She pointed out with a laugh as the two of you reached the edge of a lawn, “And they even decorated for Halloween, how sweet.” You looked at the house, an old wooden cabin that looked like something a pilgrim would have built back in the 1700s. You were shocked to see lights glowing in the window, indicating the building had electricity. That wasn’t what unnerved you the most though.

That would be the bones littering the yard. Animal and human alike, some looking older than others. All strewn about as if thrown there without any care, or sense of design. They looked more like discarded trash than they did decor, and a morbid part of your brain forced you to ask; do those maybe look a little too real to be made of plastic? You blood felt colder than ice as your throat contracted, an unseen anaconda choking you as your knees threatened to give out.

This place was cursed. “You should go knock.” Your friend smirked.

“I would rather die.” You whispered.

“I’m serious!” She laughed, “Go trick or treating! You’d probably be the first one to do so here.” 

“No way, this isn’t right. Why would they “decorate” for Halloween all the way out here? Why are they out here to begin with? It doesn’t make sense, we need to go.”

“Well, I’m not leaving until you go knock on the door.” Your friend shrugged as if she wasn’t signing your death certificate. “These kind people deserve trick or treaters, and I deserve to take a picture of you scared shitless as you knock on the door.” She laughed.

“That’s not funny!” You snapped, your patience growing thinner as your anxiety grew.

“Oh come on Y/n! Don’t be such a bitch, just go knock on the door and then we can go, okay? I promise.”

“...Swear?” You asked softly, at this point willing to do whatever it took to leave these woods and go home.

“Swear.” Your best friend smiled, locking her pinky with yours. Her smile as angelic, enough to trick you into a facade of ease. You took a deep breath as you approached the door, carefully avoiding the skeletons as you walked. Did they looked chewed on? You didn’t want to think too hard about it. You could feel your heart in your throat, the false courage of your friends pinky promise fleeing faster and faster with every step you took closer to this house. It radiated death.

Climbing the creaky stairs was harder than you anticipated, your jittering joints protesting the very act. You reached a trembling fist to the splintering wooden door, knocking as soft as possible. “H-Hello?” You called out, hating the way your voice quivered, “Trick or Treat!” Your entire body tried to collapse in on itself, the only thing keeping you from doing so was the primal instinct to maintain your ability to run should you so need.

You waited a few seconds, then let out a shaking breath as no one came to the door. As you turned back to your friend, you were blinded by the flash of a camera, freezing you in your place. The sounds of her cackle filled you with rage. You really needed you friends. 

You rolled your eyes. “There I knocked. Are you happy? Can we please go home no-” your words died in your throat as you heard the door open.

“Trick.” a rough deep voice said, deeply unfamiliar to you. You watched your friends face contort into fear and her jaw unhinged itself into a scream as she scrambled to get away. Though, you weren’t able to hear her panic, the ringing in your ears becoming deafening as you felt your feet fall from underneath you, a python of an arm squeezing your stomach as you were lifted into the air, and into the house. 

You tried to grab the door frame as you were dragged into hell, becoming aware of your own screaming ripping through your throat as the frame was ripped from your fingers and the door shut in your face.

“Quite mortal.” The voice said again, and you almost instantly shut up. Something primal in your DNA sequencing knowing better than to piss off this devil. The monster turned you over in his hands, turning you to face him. Your soul left your body. You took in the visage of the beast, your panicking brain struggling to process what was in front of you.

 A giant humanoid man, with four arms, four eyes, and a face and chest full of ancient markings. He was holding you too close to properly see it, not to mention the fact that he was wearing a regal robe, but you would bet an unreasonable amount of money he had a sickening smile on his belly. You were in The Spider Demons claws.

And worst of all, he was kinda cute? Like, maybe it was the unshakeable sense of death that rattled your soul and turned your brain into mush, but if he was like- a normal guy with a normal amount of arms and eyes, you would have been smitten! You were kinda smitten now, even if you didn’t want to admit that. God you…really really hoped this whole experience wasn’t awakening something in you. This would be something to unpack in therapy later- if you survived this.

The demon took your chin in a free hand, turning your head as he examined you. You smelled divine. If you had been a sacrifice for him, he would have given whoever picked you out an A++ for finding you, and a bit more leniency for a while. But, he knew you weren’t a sacrifice. The townsfolk had declared him their enemy long ago, and had been facing the consequences ever since. So, that begged the question.

“Tell me, whats a pretty thing like you doing at my doorstep on the most haunted night of the year?” He asked, turning your head to look him in the eye. 

“Wishing you were a myth.” You went with the first thing that came to your head and instantly regretted it. That might have been a little too honest for this situation. But, at least he seemed to find humor in it, snickering at your quip.

“Keep wishing then human, I’m all too real.” He chuckled darkly. 

“Yeah, I-I see that…Are you going to kill me?” Your voice was shakier than you intended as you asked. You hated it, but the anticipation of what he was going to do was more painful that anything he could have actually done.

“I haven’t decided yet.” He mused as he continued his examination of you. He smiled cruelly as he felt your pulse quicken under his hands. He could smell your fear, and it was intoxicating. Your eyes, blown wide with fear, were stirring something deep down inside of him, and making you far more interesting than any other human he had come across in years.

Or, maybe it had just been a while since he had anyone to fuck. Granted, he had stolen plenty of mortals from your small town, but most of the time they died in the process. Corpses held no interest to him for anything other than food. But you? You were alive and warm, and vulnerable in his claws. That fact alone made the notion of keeping you alive for a little longer far more enticing than killing you just yet. 

“Um, anything I could do to help you make that decision?” You asked softly.

“The decision to kill you?” he questioned

“Well, the decision not too!” You quickly clarified, “Dying sounds kinda, well, not fun  and with you being like, a real thing that kinda makes me question well everything as far as mythology goes and that makes dying really fucking scary and-”

“You’re rambling mortal.” He sneered in annoyance.

“Right! My bad I just- please don’t kill me. I’ll do anything not to die.” You begged, tears prickling the corners of your eyes as you grappled with being forced to face the unknown. You had the beasts attention though, an eyebrow raising at your offer.

“Anything?” He purred, his eyes falling to the swell of your chest and making you greatly regret your word choice. “Anything at all?”

“Anything.” You whispered softly. You reasoned with yourself that this was for your life and definitely not because the thought of getting railed by a blood thirsty demon made you squish your thighs together in anticipation. You for sure didn’t feel a rush of arousal as the thought of something meant to kill you making you cum instead crossed your mind. That didn’t happen, no way, not at all. You weren’t wondering if his dick was as monstrous as he was, or if his markings graced it as well.

“Alright then Human, deal.” He grinned wickedly as he brushed a stray hair behind your ear. “I’ll let you live, if you give your body to me first.” You felt your face burn at his proposal. Something felt fundamentally wrong about spreading your legs for a demon. You weren’t religious or anything, but that had to be some sort of sin. But, if it was for your life, surely you could indulge- I MEAN- endure. 

“Before I agree, we’re not talking about possession, right?” You had to clarify. He smirked at your words. You were cleaver to ask, it showed a familiarity with the supernatural. Maybe you weren’t as foolish as you first seemed after all.

“Smart girl. But no, we’re not talking about possession.” He confirmed. 

“Okay, cool, just checking.” You chuckled nervously. “You got yourself a deal.” His smirk turned into a dark grin as his free hands rushed to your clothes. You panicked, knowing he was going to rip them off and you’d be forced to walk back in the nude. That would have been mortifying.

“Wait wait wait!” You yelped, holding up your arms to stop his hands. 

“What?” He growled, annoyance flooding his tone.

“Let me undress myself.” You requested, “Please? I’ll make it worth your while.” He seemed intrigued and amused, setting you on the ground with an almost unnerving gentleness. 

“Will you now? Lets see.” He hummed. You nodded, taking a few steps back. You took a deep breath and shrugged your jacket off your shoulders. You had never been particularly good at being sexy, at least not in your opinion. But, The monsters eyes could have convinced you otherwise. The way he watched you undress, as if he was a starving man looking at a thanksgiving feast, or a hungry demon looking at his next meal. It gave you the confidence to put on a proper show, teasing him as you slowly shed your clothes.

“I’m Y/n by the way,” You said as your hands reached to unhook your bra, “You got a name, or is it just spider demon?” He huffed humorlessly at your quip. He never liked that title. 

“Ryomen Sukuna,” He said, his eyes setting fire to your skin as you finally dropped your bra for him, “you can call me Sukuna.” 

“Noted.” You nodded as you dropped your panties. His lustful grin showed off his incredibly sharp fangs as he dropped his own robe, the only thing covering him. You confirmed the mouth theory, seeing it spread and hungrily panting across his toned abs. Your breath hitched when you saw when he was working with. 

His dick- or rather, dicks- looked human enough despite the markings, but they were longer and thicker than anything you had taken before. And again, there were two of them. They stood hard and proud against his stomach, twitching to be inside you. You didn’t know if the buzzing in your hands and legs was from regret, or excitement.

You didn’t have time to figure it out either before you were taken back into the demons arms, this time with less violence and more neediness. He pressed you to his stomach, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist and leaving you open to him.

“You’re pretty brave for a human, you know that?” He complimented as a large tongue lolled out of his stomach mouth and against your soaking core. He chuckled darkly as the muscle shoved itself into your weeping cunt, making you gasp at the sudden stretch, “And such a slut too.”

“Hey, this was your idea, not mine.” You reminded him though breathy moans, trying to ground yourself as your hips bucked against his giant mouth. Every movement of the tongue felt like being touch for the first time, a ripple of pleasure coursing though your stomach and legs, and making you wonder there was something supernatural going on to make a demonic act feel so heavenly.

“True,” He agreed, “But you’re the one that's gushing for a monster when I’ve hardly touched you.” he reminded you, watching the way your face contorted with pleasure as you dropped the act of innocence. He didn’t know what was more arousing to him, watching your resolve dissolve, or just how sweet you tasted as you desperately you rode his tongue. “I was going to kill you just a few moments ago, you know that right?” He growled into you ear.

“Yeah, but you’re fucking me instead. Sounds like a win to me.” You grinned and he laughed at your sudden audacity. He knew he liked you.

“You really are a whore, Aren’t you?” He teased as his tongue slipped out of your cunt and into your ass instead, watching the way your breasts bounced as you flinched and moaned at the sudden intrusion. 

“Not a whore if it’s for my life.” You whined, digging your nails into his shoulders. You were starting to feel light headed from the pleasure pooling in your stomach, your cunt clenching around nothing, pissed off from the loss.

“Whatever you have to tell yourself.” He chuckled as his face fell to the crook of your neck, taking in your intoxicating smell. He could feel his dicks twitch with need as he kissed you there, fighting every instinct in his body to keep from digging his teeth into the thin skin. He tasted your sweet slick as it dripped from your cunt and onto the middle of his tongue, and finally he withdrew the muscle. 

You whined as he did, head dropping to his chest, both holes now clenching around nothing. “No, fuck-” You whimpered, only for him curl a clawed finger under your chin and lift your head to face him. “Sukuna..” You whimpered as you looked into his fire red eyes, darkened by lust. His lips crashed into yours, capturing you in a heated kiss. You sighed against his mouth, hands rising to tangle into his soft pink hair as his tongue tangled with yours.

You screamed into his mouth as you felt him shove both of his cocks into you at once, one for each hole. He growled, biting down on your lip as you clenched around him. “Sukuna!” You gasped as you pulled back from the kiss, your body trying hard to push out the sudden intrusion.

“Relax for me Darling,” He groaned softly, the pet name slipping out without his permission. He pressed his forehead to yours as he rubbed your stomach, trying to ease your pain.

“I-I can’t. Too big..” You panted, trying desperately to release the tension in your shoulders. The stretch was searing you from the inside out. You felt overwhelmed, the pleasure in the pain feeling like static shocks. “It’s soo much..”

“You can handle it,” He assured you, extremely (perhaps overly) confident in your ability considering you had met less than an hour ago. You shook your head, tears slipping from your eyes. He lapped them up from your face, then captured your lips in a much softer kiss this time. Slowly, your body came to accept his, the tension melting away as his tongue tangled with yours and he eased his way further into you. The burn faded, leaving just the pleasure there, pulsating through you as he pushed deeper. 

He groaned into your lips as he bottomed out into you, stilling both to give you time to adjust and so he didn’t immediately cum in you like a fucking virgin. It was almost embarrassing how good you felt around him, taking him better than any other being had before. You clenched and fluttered around him in a sinful way, bringing him closer to his climax than he would like to admit.

“Told you.” He smirked as he pulled away from the kiss, licking at the string of saliva that connected the two of you. You whined as you looked down to where the two of you were connected, watching a bulge in your stomach appear and disappear with every thrust of his hips. It should have hurt, but no- quite the opposite.

 Every thrust of his hips electrified you with pleasure, sending wave after wave of intoxicating bliss through your nervous system. You had never felt so full before, so complete. You could feel his cocks rub against each other, against your walls inside of you, a dizzying sensation that you had never experienced before. Your hips bucked against him greedily as he fucked you, chasing your high.

“Look at me Y/n,” He demanded, pulling your head up so your eyes connected with his again, “I want you know the demon making you feel so good.” 

“Ryomen-” You whined, forgetting in your sea of lust that wasn’t the name he told you to use. His eyes widened a bit from shock. Mostly because he wasn’t filled with rage by your insolence, but instead a surge of lust from hearing his name fall from your lips. It really had been awhile, he was feeling himself getting attached far too easily. If he knew what was good for him, he would have finished and disposed of you as quickly as possible. He wasn’t interested in what was good for him.

“Say it again.” He demanded, a hand slipping in between you to rub circles into your clit. 

“Ryomen..” You whined, staring at him with fucked out, lust clouded eyes as you trembled in his arms, thighs clenching around his abdomen as the ecstasy crashed through your core and through out your body. You felt your muscles ripple and tense in anticipation. 

“Again,” He growled, pulling you closer to him, and dropping his forehead down to yours. “Who does this cunt belong to?”

“Ryomen..” Your brain was too clouded to make out the rest of his command, your body buzzing and bliss building up inside of you. He picked up his pace, chasing his own high and making you scream out his name in a truly embarrassing and needy moan. 

You clung onto his shoulders and neck, digging your nails into the soft skin there as the euphoria in your veins finally boiled over and hit the fire inside of your stomach, igniting it in an explosion of ecstasy and lust. Your vision exploded with stars and your brain officially clocked out of work as you melted into a puddle. Your legs shaking around him as you leaned against his strong body, unable to keep yourself up any longer.

Your velvety walls quivered around him and sucked him in impossibly deeper, needy and lustful for him. It drove him mad. He watched as your face scrunched in pleasure, your body reacting to him greedily as you melted into the pleasure he he was gracing you with. 

It send him over the edge watching you cum for him, feeling you cum over him, feeling you gush around him. He couldn’t hold himself back any longer, holding you in a grip tight enough to bruise. His fangs buried themselves into your neck, marking you as his and his alone as he came deep inside of you, the warm strings gushing in you and filling you to the point of spilling over.

He held you close to him, head hung back as you both tried to catch your breath. Your mind was starting to clear the fog out, looking up to ask him to put you down before you felt him move inside you again. Your breath hitched as you realized he didn’t even get a little soft. You looked at him with almost horrified eyes as he bucked into you, only acting to encourage him. He looked back at you with lustful and wicked eyes, nipping at your lip as he set his pace and grinned.

“Whats wrong Darling?” He asked, the pet name now fully intentional in its use, “You didn’t think I was done with you yet, did you?” 

🎃🎃🎃

You were warm when you woke up, despite still being in the nude. Probably because of the huge body pressed against yours, radiating heat and holding you close as he slept. Visions of last night ran though your head, making you almost painfully aware of the cum still dripping from between your thighs, and sending another wave of arousal through you. When did you pass out? When did Ryomen?

You stayed still for a few seconds, listing to your bedfellows steady breathing. The bed, despite being made from feathers and thin quilting, was surprisingly soft, and the late afternoon sun filled the old home with a warm hazy light. You realized you couldn’t stay here any longer. You couldn’t get attached to an urban legend. 

You slipped out of his arms, freezing as he groaned and only breathing again once he was softly snoring. You sighed as you slipped out of the bedroom and found your clothes again. You quickly got dressed, and went to open the front door. It didn’t budge. Your eyes furrowed in confusion as you pulled the knob again. What the hell? You pulled with all your might, almost screaming with frustration as the door didn’t even move a centimeter. 

“Don’t bother with that Dove.” You gasped as you heard Ryomens voice behind you, a wave of dread blanketing you as you spun to face him. He was leaning casually against the door frame of the bedroom, a content smile painted on his face. “It has my seal on it. I’m the only one that can open that door.”

[b-writessometimes]

a yandere nanami thought 💭

warnings: Yandere themes and controlling behavior prevalent in this post (it's nanami what do you expect?). Mentions of forcefeeding, diets, possible body image/ weight issues, below.

Eating disorder implied but not outright stated. Read at your own discretion.

[word count: 169]

yandere nanami would keep reader on a diet.

And no, not the 'you need to loose weight and eat food with zero preservatives' kind of diet.

More so ensuring they eat a proper 3 meals a day. Enough calories, protein, carbs, sugar, vitamins, etcetera to keep your body at optimal level.

And well, to be more sentimental about his reasoning, he wants to live with you as long as possible.

Would modify your diet accordingly if you have any health issues, does his through research almost to the point where he knows just as much as a medical professional.

He would make certain that reader gets their proper fill each day. So what if you gain some weight? Isn't it much better to be well fed than starving?

So if that means holding your chin with his iron-like grip, feeding you spoonful by spoonful while you cry and squirm, so be it.

Anything to keep you alive and healthy.

And you better pray you don't end up puking up afterwards.

[shallyouobeyme]

Path

Platonic!Yandere!Strawhats x reader (GN)

Summary: Slightly exhausted from never having any time on your own, you decide to swindle a little bit to get to spend a day alone with nature. What could go wrong? It's not like your crew is unhinged and obsessed with you, right? Right?!

!Minors do not Interact!

TW: Obsession, Yandere, Dark content, Threatening (not against Reader), slight infantilization, drugging, Reader discretion is adviced

Day 3 of my Yandere Writetober

Today was the day. The day you'd finally have some time for yourself - you had planned everything perfectly. You'd tell Luffy, Nami, Lysop and Sanji that you'd spend your day off with Zoro watching him train and you'd tell Zoro that you'd go shopping with Nami.

Zoro always left the ship first when you had your days off where all of you were off doing your own thing, so you'd leave the ship with him and once you were outside you'd tell him you had forgotten something and that he should leave since you'd be going with Nami anyways, so you'd go back onto the boat and get your journal (that was definitely not sitting in your bag, what are you talking about).

Zoro would leave thinking you were with Nami while you'd sneak off and the others would think you had left with him. You'd get back onto the ship before Zoro would make his way down and tell him that Nami had accompanied you back when you started to have a headache and when Nami and the others returned they would think you had come back with Zoro who would probably be napping by then.

If you were really lucky then maybe they wouldn't even talk about it and your little ruse wouldn't be uncovered, then you might be able to do it again sometimes.

Of course, you didn't want to lie to them, honestly, you didn't enjoy it one bit. They were your closest (and only) friends and they had become like family to you so lying wasn't your first option, but you had tried anything else by then.

Every time you docked at a new harbour and had no important mission to attend, Luffy declared the day a chill-out day where everyone could go off on their own to enjoy a little alone time since you were usually basically skin to skin 24/7. Except, somehow, you always ended up spending the day with one of them.

Either Zoro would make you watch him train under the guise that he wanted to help you learn some self-defence (when you mentioned the flaw in his logic that you never did any training, instead always watching him, he insisted that it was about seeing the correct form first and ended the argument, given that he was the expert), Sanji would take you to the market to buy ingredients or keep you in the boat to make you try his new recipes (always something that had similarities to your favourite dish to make sure you enjoy it) and Lysop would take you to some bar or another lively area where he told his stories in which he always was the one who saved you from mortal danger. Nami was probably the best to spend the day with. She made an effort to do something you enjoyed as well, or at least she tried until she found herself seeing something pretty in a shop and dragged you in to do some shopping - she loved seeing you in the cutest outfits and made sure to buy you something pretty every time she got to spend the day with you.

Luffy was definitely the worst, you loved him like a brother and he was the best captain you could imagine, but he was so... energetic. You'd always been more of an introvert, enjoying being alone with nature and your thoughts, and he - with his endless optimism and his hunger for adventure - was not that, in the best way possible. It was just really exhausting. He always got the two of you in some trouble one way or another and even though he always managed to get you out of it again, it was really stressful for you.

You had long stopped asking why you were never allowed to go off on your own, it always got you the same answer: 'Y/N, we just want to make sure you're safe after all you were not got at fighting like the rest of the crew. We just want to protect you.' You knew that they had a point, you had never learned to fight and you were never courageous enough to raise a weapon against someone else, even when they might have deserved it - which is also one of the reasons Zoro insisted on your 'training sessions'. Honestly, a little child playing pirates could probably beat you to a pulp easily.

Sometimes you wondered why you had even become part of the crew, but the others always squashed those doubts by telling you how important and helpful you were. After all, you were an expert in most things flora and fauna and had extensive knowledge of many different cultures, which often helped get the crew out of sticky situations and often helped when Zoro got you lost again and Luffy couldn't keep going from hunger.

But even though you weren't a fighter, you figured that you'd be fine for one day on a peaceful island without any large predatory animals, it wouldn't hurt anyone if you spent one day going on a walk through the beautiful nature and finally getting to spent more time journaling about the beautiful flowers and bird on the trail.

Which is why - while you hated lying - you didn't feel too bad about fooling your friends. And it was definitely worth it. You found some beautiful specimens of rare Venus Fly Traps and rare hybrid roses, along with a beautiful field of Symphyotrichum - also known as Asters - filled with hundreds of beautiful butterflies which made great models for your doodling.

It was so relaxing that you didn't even spare a thought towards what your crew was doing right then, which was - looking back at it - maybe not too clever, because somewhere else on the island, Zoro decided that he had enough training for the day and that maybe he should try to find Nami to spent some time with you and by some strange miracle did not get lost on the way there.

So imagine his surprise when he saw Nami, on her own, looking through some shop window. Imagine Nami's surprise when she looked around and caught sight of Zorro's green hair and her excitement of seeing you quickly faded at the fact that you were not standing there with him.

Zorro jogged over to here. "Isn't Y/N with you?" "I thought Y/N was training with you?" Both of them asked at the same time and quickly realized that something was wrong. They split up to look for the rest of the crew hoping that you may have just changed your mind and decided to hang out with one of them instead.

It was clear to say that they did not become calmer once all five of them had gathered and realized that you were, in fact, with neither of them. They split up once again to find you and it was safe to say a lot of people were threatened that day (mostly by Zorro) as they combed through the island, looking everywhere they could think of to find you, slowly but surely growing more and more agitated and slightly violent, leaving a trail of disturbance and in some cases destruction behind.

You, none the wiser, were on your way back to the boat since it was about half an hour before Zorro would usually quit training and you wanted to be sure you were on the boat before him, with a little pep in your step. The smile could not be wiped off of your face, or at least you thought so.

You were proven differently when you approached the harbour and found Zorro holding one of his swords to the neck of one of the harbour workers in a very, very threatening manner.

Quickly you hurried over, quickly getting back into the habit of trying to defuse the situation. "What's going on?" you shouted once you were only a few feet away. Zorro quickly looked at you, first with a look of confusion then of immense relief. He let his sword fall and rushed over to you, so quickly that you couldn't even process it before he had you squashed in his arms in a hug so tight that you had trouble breathing. One arm was pulling you towards him, and the other was pushing your head against his chest where you could hear his quick heartbeat.

You could hear someone running away, you assumed it was the poor harbour worker who had just had a near-death experience, as Zorro mumbled something about you being safe, and how he would not let you go again, but you couldn't hear him properly with one ear pressed against his chest and one against his palm.

You tried to wiggle out of his grasp but he only tightened it. "Are you okay?" you whispered even though you probably wouldn't even be able to understand his answer, which wasn't necessary because he didn't answer. Instead, you heard him screaming loud enough for it to reach your covered ears.

"Guys, I found them!!! They're okay!" You could make out a lot of steps coming towards you and soon you were getting whiplash from getting thrown around to so many different people all embracing you tighter than the last ones and every single one seemingly being more opposed to letting you go again.

In the end, you found yourself - somehow - being held by Luffy like a cradled child, who - also - pressed your head against him. "Are you okay? Did anyone hurt you? We were worried sick about you," he questioned anxiously.

"What, no! No one hurt me, I'm A-okay, no one hurt me. Why were you worried?" "What do you mean why? You were gone, you weren't with Zorro like you said," Nami responded, quickly followed by Zorro, "And you weren't with Nami like you told me."

You couldn't help your face growing so very warm and darkening in colour because of the embarrassment of being caught in a lie. "Well," you started, not being able to help it that you pressed your face even closer towards Luffy, not able to stand the disappointment you imagined in their faces - unaware that they all couldn't help but coo over how precious you looked like that, "I may have swindled a little bit, I- I just wanted to spend some time on my own, I wanted to go through nature and journal again for once, I really didn't mean to make you worry."

"You could have told us, I'd gladly go through walks in the forest with you, who knows I might find some nice fresh fruit for some pastries on the way," Sanji said and you elected to ignore the fact that you had mentioned it towards them and that part of the whole idea was you having some alone time, but you figured you were already in enough trouble as is.

"I'm sorry, I really am, next time I'll say what I like outright," you sighed earnestly, now slightly concerned about the fact that Luffy still hadn't let you go.

"I don't think there'll be a next time soon, it's probably best if one of us stays on the boat with you from now on, just until we're sure we can trust you again, okay?" Zorro exclaimed and the others seemed to agree with him.

"What? No? I'm not a child, you can't just keep me locked away. I get that you want to protect me, but I'm my own person, I can make my own decisions and if I want to go on a walk I can go on a walk, now would you please let me down?"

Ignoring your request at the end of your rant, Luffy shook his head and shushed you slightly, "I know this is a lot to take in, but we just want to protect you, you're too frail and fragile to be alone in this dangerous world, so we'll take care of you, okay? Now I think it's time for a nap, don't you think so?"

You tried to argue that they should stop treating you like a child right that instant when suddenly there was a little vile of liquid brought to your lips and you couldn't help but swallow it in shock. You tried to fight back against Luffy's grip, tried to ask them what the hell they were doing and what was happening, why they were suddenly acting so strange, but every move felt like you were weighed down by a thousand tons and your words came out slurred and more and more quiet before you couldn't keep your eyes open and fell into a deep, disturbed slumber. Unaware of how much your life - and your position in the crew would change.

N/A: As a new blog, I'd really appreciate a like or a reblog or maybe even a comment if you enjoyed ❤️

[fairyysoup]

beltane honey lavender chamomile possets

Blessed May!! I know I don't normally post about witchy things too much but today I figured, in the spirit of one of my favorite holidays, I'd share the recipe I made to celebrate (featuring a bit of kitchen witchery). Possets are a traditional dessert that date back to the middle ages, and utilize cooked cream with lemon juice, gelatin, or egg as a stiffener to create a custard like consistency. This one uses fresh lemon juice.

Ingredients:

🌷 four cups heavy/whipping cream (fertility and abundance)

🌷 1/2 cup honey (try using local!!) (longevity and sweetness)

🌷 1/3 cup fresh lemon juice (you want that b FRESH squeezed directly from the lemon's teet iykyk) (purification and love)

🌷 1/2 cup lavender flowers (love and peace)

🌷 1/2 cup chamomile flowers (love and peace)

(i used dry flowers for mine but i recommend fresh flowers for more oomf)

Instructions:

1. Combine your cream and honey in a medium sized sauce pan and place over low heat. Stir until well combined, then add your dried flowers.

2. Bring cream, flower and honey mixture to a low simmer, and then allow to cook for 3 minutes. The cream may bubble quite a bit- continue stirring and reduce heat if necessary to avoid scorching!

3. Once three minutes is up, remove from heat and stir in lemon juice. Mix until well incorporated, and allow to cool for just a few minutes.

4. Strain out flowers and pour the mixture into small jars or parfait glasses.

5. Refrigerate to set- roughly two hours at least, but overnight is optimal. If you're really excited you could try popping them in the freezer but I haven't tried that myself so use your own discretion. You just want the custard to set.

6. Top with flowers if desired and go crazy go stupid 💕

Enjoy the holiday and please reblog with pics if you do this, I'd love to see 🫶

[android-and-ale]

Chapter 24 is live!

Wherein Jim bravely endures a Space Zoom Call with 10 participants.

If you’re new here, have a summary:

Shenanigans ensue when one middle finger to the Academy too many gets Starfleet Cadet James T. Kirk booted off planet for a summer internship aboard the V.S.S. Sh'Raan.

He's hiding a major secret from the oh so earnest and helpful Vulcans, but the longer he's on the ship, the more Jim starts to wonder if they're keeping secrets from him, too.

Excerpt:

Captain Spisee handed Jim a heavy sheet of rich, cream paper embossed with gold dusted Vulcan calligraphy bearing the ship’s name. It was a bit cheap by the standards of Vulcan stationary aesthetics, but shipboard life meant some sacrifices. In the most elegant handwriting he’d ever had the privilege to lay eyes on, it read:

Human Enrichment and Optimal Health Program:

One (1) Daily Shoulder Pat (more provided upon request) 

Seventy (70) Seconds of Hug Time Per Week (divided between crew members as you deem necessary) 

Three (3) Discrete Instances of Daily Praise

Three (3) Structured Entertainments per week

 Minimum of One (1) Social Companion per meal (more available upon request)

Jim looked up from the Human Enrichment And Optimal Health Program and into Captain Spisee’s luminous brown eyes. There was no hint of mockery or malice there. He was an earnest scientist, possessing both cheekbones so sharp you could cut glass with them and the quadrant’s most excellent taste in guest furniture. He’d been given a unique task, and on Surak’s Katric Ark, he performed it with the same thoroughly Vulcan scientific intensity he would give the discovery of a new species of cave moss.

“We would appreciate detailed weekly feedback on the efficacy of our Human integration efforts,” said Captain Spisee.

“This is…” Intense? Weird? “Incredibly thoughtful.”

“You are not required to reciprocate the Daily Praise,” said Captain Spisee. Despite his words, Jim could swear one corner of his mouth twitched upwards two entire millimeters.

---

Since some of you have kindly asked, here's a link to my Ko-Fi if you'd like to buy me a coffee. Or a tooth.

[honey-minded-hivemind]

🌙Silent Night🦋 AU... Part One:

(Warning: This AU depicts abuse, self-harm, self-mutilation, unhealthy mindsets, guilty platonic yanderes, and platonic yanderes. If this upsets you or is not your cup of tea, do not read. Viewer discretion is advised...)

• They aren't sure when it started. When the others started to dislike them, to get angry with them, to see them as less than them. Maybe it was from the start, when they had optimism and were bright-eyed and were full of love and empathy. Maybe it was when their views didn't align with the others anymore, when they couldn't agree with them no matter what they said was right or just. Maybe it was just their natural way of acting, and they finally snapped and took it out on them. Whatever the case was, they were soon at odds and ends with them, dealing with the contempt and anger of the ones who they thought they could trust.

• Reader knew their beliefs were... looked down on. They knew that the first time they said they didn't hate humans, that they wanted to make peace with them, that something had changed. And it wasn't for the better. Where once they were allowed to join the other kids, now they were ostracized, cast aside. Where the adults used to include them or care about them, they now were mad, snappish, annoyed whenever Reader spoke up or said anything. Not to mention how no one seemed to like them anymore, seemed to try and talk with them, tried to help them or offer aid or smooth over any fears or doubts.

• But it still only grew worse.

• The problem came when they had helped a human out. Reader hadn't even done much, besides put a band-aid on their leg and hidden them, only leading them back out and bringing them somehwhere safer for them than the woods. Except this secret wasn't so secret, and the next thing Reader knew-

• They were locked up, tossed into a cell and chained, left to rot save for when one of the adults came by to... "re-educate"... them.

• Their life hadn't been long, but Reader soon discovered there were worse fates than death. Being hurt, be it by claws or forced fighting or being held down and bruised, was awful. It hurt even more knowing that it was done by people who once claimed to care about them, to want to help them... But whatever this was that they were doing, it wasn't helping. Was it? The bleeding cuts, the bruised limbs, the sore wings from trying to stay aloft, to get away- Their scratched-up hands, the bloodied nails, the blackened spots that bleed under their skin, turning into ugly shades of purple and black... The one thing that felt untouched was their wings, the only parts that didn't ache with slowly being healed by their body, that didn't become scarred up or marred by the hands that grabbed and clawed and hit and forced down...

• Reader didn't know why it wouldn't stop. Didn't know how much longer it would be until something gave. They should have known it would be their wings that would be the breaking point.

• That memory was faded a bit, their mind blocking out some of it, but what they remembered was another forced fight, running as far as they could before they were yanked back, hands grabbing, something creaking-

• SNAP!

• And soon they were wailing, collapsing into themself and trying to hide, to drag their broken wing over them, using their hands to muffle their sobs as they waited for their attacker/s to finish it... But they didn't. They only stopped, then left, leaving Reader on their own and curled up in the farthest corner of the room, doing their best to not move, grasping at the last threads of comfort they had...

• They'd been still for days. Any food or water left had been ignored, Reader not budging an inch to go near it or to do anything else. It didn't matter when someone eventually came in to check on them, or when hands grasped their wing, feeling at the broken bones and slowly bandaging it, setting up a sling. It didn't even matter when they said Reader could go back up with them, could leave for the first time from their personal h*ll... Yet Reader didn't enjoy this new freedom. It wasn't freedom really, was it? They now had to face the ones who wounded them, those who turned their backs on them, who had put them into their own special kind of h*lll, all because they weren't like them... All because they tried to do the right thing, to help someone, even if that person had been a human...

• Reader didn't keep count of how long it took them to gather the nerve to escape. They knew it had been at least two weeks, if not more... The night they chose was quiet, cold and chilled, soft snowfall dusting the sky and leaving a blanket of freezing white on the ground. No one should have been up. No one should have seen them. Reader had crossed past the farthest edges of the property, making it a few feet into the woods, before they heard someone shout far behind them- Then they fled, scrambling over rocks and slippery patches of ice, hurtling over fallen trees and past ice-covered trunks. Ice glinted under the small amount of moonlight, frosted and gleaming, each shard and icicle and flake as cold as death. Even then, it didn't deter them, not even when they reached a ledge, looking out over a frozen lake, a dark mirror reflecting the darkness and cold of the night, and the smallest glint of the moon...

• "Reader... Don't move." Yet even the quiet eventually was broken, by the same people who'd broken them.

• "Get back here... Now."

• Reader shifted slightly, feeling the way the wind pushed at their wings, soft as silk and cold as the snow underfoot. Their foot goes back, then the other. Fear fills them, burning hot and sticky as tar, melting through any resistance they have, setting ablaze their paranoia and terror, which consumes them.

• "Reader. Come back. NOW!"

• Their foot only slides back by a fraction, yet that's all it takes-

• CRACK!

• The ledge crumbles beneath them, sending them down like a comet crashing to earth, their wings splayed in a futile attempt to slow the fall, then liquid night surrounds them, studded with freezing white stars and sharp crystals, bubbles and frothy pink left in their wake...

• The world around them is silent, wrapped up in snow and bathed in milky light when they awake. The wind brushes against them, sending chills through their half-drowned body. Water gurgled up from their lungs, splattering warm liquid and murky silt onto the frosted, rocky dirt. It doesn't take much more to drag themself up, their wings laid crookedly around them like a fallen cloak, and soon they staggered off into the snow-brushed trees, leaving behind nothing more than frozen anguish and freezing memories...

• They make it far enough as they travel those first few weeks, enough so that they stumble into a worn, wet shed, hiding away from the blinding snowstorm that roars and wails around them. The shed doesn't hold any heat, yet they can't force themself to look for better shelter. What they do find are a sharp, large pair of shears, rusted and cold to the touch. And Reader is struck by a thought, which soon turns to a decision-

• If they ever want to live, to hide amongst people and try to survive... their wings can't stay. Their wing that had been broken was even worse than it was before, possibly unfit for flight ever again... And the other/s isn't /aren't much better, worn and bedraggled. Both are heavy weights on them, useless now... So really... why keep them? Their wings won't be able to help them in any way anymore, and if anyone sees them, they're as good as dead. So with those thoughts in mind... they lift the base of their first wing into the mouth of the shears, and with a swift push and wet crunch-

• Their wing falls to the floor, ebony and garnet gore spattering across the floors and walls, their loss soon followed by a sharp scream... And then the next wing is hefted up, and the small world is soon bathed in red...

• When the snowstorm ends, Reader slowly stumbles out, their shirt torn and new gashes in their back, one less burden weighing them down. It doesn't take them more than an hour to find a small cottage, dusty and worn down, yet still cozy and warm from the harsh winds and frozen slush outside. Dusting off the few couches and chairs, Reader soon settles in, dragging blankets and sheets onto one settled by the small fireplace, curling themself up into the dryness and warmth the soft, fuzzy cloths bring...

• And slowly, they settle into the world around them. They gather nuts and rabbits and mushrooms they find over the next few months, slowly building up stock on the edible fungi and nuts, adding soft pelts and fresh fish as well, and take their findings to the snow-locked town beyond the wintery forest. The people don't ask many questions, aren't very open, but they happily accept the fresh food with little grumbling, paying Reader for what they brought. And then they keep doing it, even hunting small deer and foxes and fish for those who weren't able to reach the stores or catch any themselves... So they slowly start to accept Reader. They don't turn them away or charge them extra for food anymore. They start paying them a little extra for the better pelts and larger meats... Reader even manages to make a small business, bringing food to those trapped by snow and ice, being able to sell or barter shells and stones they pick up from a lake nearby...

• Yet after about three years... Their nightmares come back for them.

• Reader doesn't know how they were found, nor how their demons were the ones to find them, yet somehow, someway, they did... People, the ones they hoped they would never see again, who they wished would go far away, to disappear, were at their cottage. The moment they see them, they try and take a step closer... But Reader swiftly turns heel and runs, heading straight into the freezing woods that surround them.

• They don't stop when they hear shouting, nor when the sound of flapping and footsteps echo behind them. Even as their heart picks up speed and their terror burns through their blood, they don't stop. As the snow whips through the woods, sending frozen flakes falling thickly through the branches, they don't slow down. Their feet are swift, their steps unhalted by wings or doubts. Yet their steps are frozen when they something lands on them, sending them both into the chilling snow all around them.

• Reader struggles, trying to push themself up yet being unable. Hands soon press down on them, pinning them to the frozen earth. "Get off!" Reader yells, bucking and biting at whoever has them in their grasp.

• "Kid, stop fightin' me!" shouts a familiar voice, and Reader feels a new sense of dread fill them, sending them into a panicked flurry. "Kid, please, stop strugglin' fer a minute! Yer gonna hurt yerself-"

• Reader kicks out, soon clawing themself out from under their captor... who is one of their old mentors, one of their past abusers... Another one alights into the slurry of sharp white and biting ice, peering at them with sharp eyes. Reader hisses, backing away carefully, not taking their eyes off of either one for a moment... Then they're whirling around in a snow-dusted blur, scrambling past-

• Only to be caught by strong hands, which pull them back into the scuffed clearing.

• "Cub, just calm down fer a minute-! Ya aren't in danger, yer not gonna be hurt, yer safe-" Reader only screeches, wriggling and scratching at the hands keeping them from their escape. "Shhh, i know, I know, this is all scary an' new an' isn't the best way ta go 'bout this, but ya aren't listening to us-" One of the hands touches their back, then freezes. Soon the person holding them goes still, then their hands are tugging at their shirt, trying to get it off.

• "Get off me! Get off!" Reader screams, fighting harder, only for their other past mentor to hold them still. Something cuts through their shirt, tearing the fabric- And then their back is bare, save for the few bandages that cover their upper chest, showing their scars to the world.

• Something touches at their back, tracing one of the scars... and then the grip on then tightens, panic filling the voices of their captors.

• "Sh*t-! Kid, cub, what is this? What happened? Why- why can't I see yer wings- cub, they-they aren't here, where are they-?"

• Reader feels tears filling their eyes, their stomach twisting at being partially naked and unable to break free. "... I don't have them. Now... get off..."

• "Cub, kid, kitten, what do ya mean? Don't- they- they aren't... they weren't..." He trails off, a soft noise rumbling up. Reader feels another soft, cool touch along their scars, followed by a low whine. "No... nonononono..." The arms and hands are soon wrapped around them, upset noises warbling out like a distressed animal. Reader takes that moment to snap, struggling harder. They're dropped, only to be picked back up and held in a firm embrace. "No, no cub, ya can't leave, yer hurt, yer missing yer-" A strangled noise escapes him, but he continues. "We can't leave ya like this, cub, we can't. Now please, please, stop fightin'... please..."

• Reader only fights harder, scratching and snapping and kicking at the hold on them. A wounded noise escapes one of their captors, then in a moment, something sharp sinks into their arm. Reader freezes up.

• "Shhh... don't worry, 'kay? We just need ya ta calm down... It was only a small sedative, cub, just enough to help ya relax a little... That's it, just take deep breaths..."

• Tears trail down Reader's face, a sob pushing past their lips as they struggle further, shoving and clawing as they try to break loose from the firm embrace. That only earns another wounded noise, leaving Reader weakly hissing. Their head starts to feel clouded, their fear being smoothed out to discomfort. Another hand is carding through their hair, leaving them softly whining. Their thoughts keep slipping through, melting from frozen ice to lake water to soft puddles... They hiss one more time, weakly snapping at whoever... whatever... mmmm... something, that holds them... Their face feels cold and wet... Hrrrmmmmph... They feel all soft and cold and chilly an... hhhhhh... They eyes slip shut, their mind muddling further. Everything feels weird... it's all fluffy and wet and cold... but their back is against something warm, and something warm is on their head, aaaaand their head is feeling weird and syrupy and all sweet... Hhhhhmmmm... Heh.... Sweet and syrupy and honey and molasses and bees and...

• With a last tired sigh, Reader slips into unconsciousness, soon relaxing into the hold on them... The two older ferals can't help but wrap their cub up with one of their coats, trying to keep the already-freezing kid warm. The two trudge back through the thick sheets of snow, tracking down the kids who came with them... They find them still as stones, staring at an old, broken-down shed. They come closer, trying to figure out what's scared them... Only to find the remains of bloodied, broken wings, surrounded by blackish stained wood, the heavy scent of iron still clinging to the rotten wood...

• They carefully collect them, carefully comforting the kids and keeping Reader cradled against one of them while the other handles their cub's wings... When they start to head back, they realize they have a lot of healing to do for their cub... This time theyll keep them safe. They'll keep them warm, they'll take care of them, they'll accept what their beliefs- But they aren't letting them go back. They can't leave them alone. They can't risk letting them hurt themself further. They won't hurt them, they won't yell, they'll be soft and gentle, they promise. Maybe they'll have to keep their cub a little tired, enough to not fight them or hurt themself... Yet if it means they'll be able to heal, to feel better... Then it's worth it. They won't fail them again...

[touyas-multi-purpose-saline]

DAY XIV. — PREDATOR/PREY

cw: Predator/Prey, Weapons / Use of Weapons, Referenced / Implied Stalking, Quirkless AU, Violence, Violent Imagery, Slight Manipulation / Gaslighting, Delusional Thoughts / Behaviors, Yandere Undertones, Injury, Uncomfortable Scenarios, Unhealthy Relationships, General Dark Content Not Suitable for Immature Audiences, Fem! Reader. Reader discretion is advised. 18+ Only!

author's note: This one is completely and totally self-indulgent. Hope you enjoy! I do not condone unhealthy behavior in any sense! This is strictly fiction! Do not force yourself to read if you're uncomfortable.

word count: Approximately 2.7k words.

You’re not even fully awake before the hand around your mouth tightens, claws digging into flesh, and jerks it back. A muted gasp never sees the light of day, but your eyes are open and wide now. Both of your hands shoot upwards, snatching up a wrist, blood boiling yet frosting in the chilly night air. 

“Shhh. There’s no need to panic, princess. I won’t hurt you.”

Fat chance, but would fighting back be optimal at this point? You don’t know who’s behind you—those guttural and masculine chords still echoing in your ears don’t sound familiar in the slightest. You hope you’re probably going to die at best because the thought of anything else happening prickles your skin with gooseflesh and makes dread broil inside of your lungs. The voice chuckles. 

“Good, good. Yeah, okay. I’m here to take you home, so just keep cooperating and this’ll be easy.” 

Never mind. The fear underneath the flats of your nails springs to life, fiery and explosive, and you immediately fling your head backwards. Pain begins like a gong at the crown of your head, but it’s dull before it ever begins. Whoever’s behind you groans, and it’s only a fraction of a millisecond, but it’s enough to bound forward and escape their hold. That hand trails down your body, sharp and flexing to keep you in deep, but you’re faster. Rolling across your bed, dragging sheets and pillows, piling yourself up and throwing this person off—all of it makes your head spin, but it’s fine. This is fine. 

Whenever your body collides to the ground, loud and thundering, your ankle splinters, you gasp again but it doesn’t stall you. Slamming both of your hands on the ground, you twist and run. Run run run, tearing open your door, jumping as far as possible. You’re hopping, two little steps on the ground, big leaps. No time wasted. That voice cries after you before heavy footfalls follow after yours. Pain is flaring alive in your ankle because that was a stupid move, stupid and careless, but the adrenaline biting and feasting upon your bone marrow urges you to keep going, to keep moving, to keep running. 

Shallow breaths choke up in the back of your throat as you loop and curve, winding through your house. The foyer is so close. All you have to do is get to the foyer so you can run outside and start screaming for your neighbors’ help. The stranger behind you is quickly gaining on you, but the flight of your feet is deft, like a doe through a dangerous meadow. You can escape him, you know you can—it’ll be fine, just turn this corner, spin around and—

You slam into someone. There’s no longer any heat inside of your body, it’s drained and soggy, and you’re left slowly lifting your head. Golden honey eyes pierce through you. 

“Why are you running, angel?” 

His face is scary underneath the dim lighting of your living room’s threshold, shaded by that strange plague doctor mask covering the bottom half. Those eyes, long with lashes and so contemplative, the aloof air that seems to curtain his gaze, the way those midnight purple curls fall across his forehead, they all mesh together and send your head in a frenzy. You’re spinning. You can feel it, the floors, the walls, the ceilings, his body, the other person’s body are all homing in on you. It’s so airy in here, shifting altitudes, and you start panting. Princess. Angel. Princess. Angel. Princess. Angel. 

The other person finally rounds the corner. 

“There ya are, princess. You’re really quick on your—” 

He stops. The other man in front of you stops looking at you to level with the other stranger. The two of them watch one another. Everything is tense, thick droplets of water forcing, begging, their way out of an empty faucet. And then, a raucous laugh. 

“Haha, ohhh, this is good. What’s a yakuza doing sticking his nose here?” 

A scoff. 

“I recognize you. You’re in that one gang, aren’t you? The League of Villains?” 

You’re too scared to turn around, but you’re not sure if that’s a bright idea. You can’t bring yourself to move, can’t escape the feeling of the both of these strangers growing closer. Step step step, and the gang member is only a stretch behind you. 

“What of it? If you’re here to pick a fight, do it on your own turf. I’m not here to play dirty.” 

The yakuza, you guess, tilts his head before he squints. 

“Not here to play dirty? Neither am I. No, I’m here to collect something that belongs to me.” 

Stone grinding against stone, creaking, and it’s dribbling into the pond below your feet. Both of your eyes start growing, wider than a swollen harvest moon, glossy with confusion and horror. Wetting your lips doesn’t make them any less chapped. What did he say? What does that mean? What—you… you don’t know anything about that. Who in the hell is this guy? You’ve never even met him. You’ve never been involved in crime. You’ve never done anything but abide by the law like your average and boring person. So why, why is he saying that something that belongs to him is in your house? 

“Belongs to you? Oh, that’s golden. This is a mess. That something belongs to me, creep.” 

Imploring eyes slowly tilt around, shuddering like a wind chime. You finally see the stranger behind you. His snowy locks splay across his forehead, those licks of flames spiked and sharp. Teal eyes never seem to leave your visage. Golden piercings glitter whenever he opens his mouth in a toothy grin. There’s anger in your heart, building, and brimming, and you can’t help whenever your teeth grit and you whisper, 

“What the fuck are you two talking about? I don’t know either of you. Get out of my house.” 

A deep sigh. 

“This would have been so much easier if you would have stayed asleep. You’re so clever and meticulous in your planning, Todoroki.” 

Todoroki groans before it turns into a mocking yell. 

“Save it, Chisaki. I don’t feel like wasting my time on you. Why don’t you find your own girl?” 

They’re ignoring you—they’re ignoring you and he just called you his girl. 

“Hey, answer me, you assholes.” 

Zilch. 

“You’re mistaken if you think she’s your girl. I’ve had my eyes on her for some time now. I can’t expect someone like you to understand that.” 

Todoroki’s face pinches up like he’s about to spit, but he swallows and scoffs. He takes a step forward. Your fists ball. Your head pivots carefully back around to Chisaki. The door is behind him. It’s beckoning to you, its fingers curling, drawing. You have to run past Chisaki. You have to manage to dodge past him. He can’t touch you. If he grabs you, those fingers will lock and you’ll be trapped. You have to do this right. You have to be calculated with your every breath. 

“Whaddya mean by that? I’m a real gentleman if you take the time to know me. Tch, ‘sides, she’s been my girl ever since her friends tagged our property.” 

It’s like shattering glass, and you gasp. The shards pierce the pads of your fingers. Every thought in your brain slurps down the drain. 

Chisaki seems to pause. His breath hangs in the air. 

“Well, isn’t that a great coincidence? A few of those friends vandalized one of our bases. I’ve been watching her since.” 

Sketchy violin strings, they scratch and shiver. You can feel the budding anticipation. You can feel thunder in your heart. Your mind is searching. You need to figure out how to get out of here. You’re wrapped up in something that never even involved you. The war drums in your head remind you of your beating oxygen. Chisaki also takes a step closer. You’re glued to the spot, feet sinking into tar. You can’t comprehend anything. Todoroki is right behind you now—his hand is like blades whenever he eases his fingers along the small of your back. Chisaki continues speaking.

“Is that why I’ve seen you hanging around here? Sigh. I should have guessed. But regardless of that…” 

Everything is shaking, the music has stopped. Just little sounds in the night time. An occasional strike against a drum. Nothing. Your head fills with fluff whenever you see Chisaki reach inside of his jacket. You’re in the line of fire. He’s going to pull out a gun, you know he is, there’s nothing in your mind that reassures you. Is he going to kill you both? Chisaki’s hand sparkles underneath the moon whenever it resurfaces, metal, the barrel of a gun. It’s terror in real time, an abandoning hope that sets your skin ablaze and your knees into petroleum. The gun stretches forward, angled over your shoulder. It clicks, but the bizarre repeating sounds vibrating in one ear and coming out the other control your every thought. The gun, the gun, the gun—

Chisaki grunts whenever you squat and fling your head into his stomach. His stance crumbles, and the gun flies out of his hand. Todoroki emits something, but you’re too focused on shoving all of your weight onto Chisaki to make sure he fully topples over. The gun clatters, but it doesn’t go off, and Chisaki’s hands are on you whenever he falls backwards. You go down with him, but you know that the jolt to his frame should be enough for you to escape those talons. The ground rumbles in frustration. Another set of hands wrap around your waist and pull you away from Chisaki. Todoroki seems to start cackling at the bewildered expression plastered across Chisaki’s face, but you’re more worried about jabbing your elbows into Todoroki’s stomach and wriggling from his grasp. He emits something gross, but you escape him too. 

And with that, you flee. 

“Princess! Get back here. I’m not gonna hurt you! I’ll just kill this guy and we can get going. Then—” 

He gets cut off by Chisaki, you’re sure, because you hear a booming noise whenever both of their bodies hit the ground. They’re rumbling around, groaning and yelling at one another in hatred and venom. Your knees hit the hard floor in your flight, away from it all, but your palms rest only centimeters away from the gun. The pounding ache in your ankle reminds you that your adrenaline is running thin, that you’re losing steam the longer you think about the two men fighting over you. Chisaki shrieks, Todoroki hisses. You don’t want to see what they’re doing. Darkness is a vignette around the frames of your eyes, and you can feel every little moment of your life lead up to this. The gun. The gun is resting in front of you. They’re clashing, the sounds of the dying engines and fans of a machine. One of them will win at any minute, then they’ll get up and chase after you. 

The metal is heavy in your hands whenever you pick up the gun. You can’t identify the make or model; you don’t care. It glints whenever you shift it to hold it correctly, and it seems to weigh more and more with every passing second. Another clap of a storm, a body goes skipping across the floor, slamming into what sounds like a couch. A table gets knocked over, it breaks. Your mouth is dry, and only the faintest sounds of city life remain on the horizon. 

“Todoroki—get away from her, or—” 

An ear-splitting wail will forever replay in your head until you die, a ringing. The gun’s reverb hurts your arms, sends them back in its hefty recoil, and you swear you hear both shoulders pop. Todoroki grasps his thigh before he clumsily lowers to the ground. His eyes are filled with tears, drool and spit runs down his chin. He’s looking at you like you’re the crazy one. 

“H-Hey. I… don’t understand why you’d…” 

He’s grasping for straws, and you’re gasping for words. You want to say something. There’s a distinct trauma that yearns to wrap around your neck after hurting someone like that. You can see his eyes, can hear his voice, can understand him, and there’s a sympathy that starts to make your head hurt. You ache, and it’s a migraine before you can hear static. 

“I—I…” 

A strange beat, an ice bath. 

Chisaki has crossed the threshold, dived towards your body, hands wrapped around the gun. You’re too shocked to fight, and he easily snatches his weapon back. He’s coiled himself around your body in a way that sends you both spiraling. 

“Mine. You’re mine. You wanted to kill Todoroki, right? I’ll do it for you. I’ll do everything for you from now on.” 

He’s muttering nonsense, but you don’t care. Todoroki is choking on himself, Chisaki is trembling in exasperation, and you—you open your mouth and bite down. Chisaki’s sleeve gets milky in your mouth, but his flesh is warm and reminds you of life. He’s screeching, and then the gun goes off again. You don’t see where it flies off to, but Todoroki crosses the distance. But you’re gone before his hands even brush you. 

You spin on the ground, and you’re running again. Crawling, kicking up dust and dirt, and you’re running like a feral animal. Froth leaks from your mouth. 

“What are you doing? Good girls don’t play like this. I can teach you how to play, princess. Don’t run from me, don’t run from me. Hey. Hey!” 

Todoroki sounds like a child, but his meandering steadily builds in speed while he chases after you. He’s cackling, and he’s deranged, but you don’t care. He’s yelling, and there are moans lining his words, and he starts begging. His words derail into nothings, a fist beats against the floor and the electricity from it howls deep within your nerves. Chisaki isn’t hurt, so he easily chases after you, quicker and lighter on his feet. 

“I control your life, angel! I know everything about you! Don’t make me do something you’ll regret.” 

Chisaki’s threats aren’t empty, but you don’t care at this moment. All that matters is the fires spreading throughout your body, down to your curling toes. You push, once, twice, and you’re hobbling on two feet. The door is close, so close, you can do it—you can—

“Angel!”

“Princess!” 

The door rips from its hinges, the sheer aptitude and desperation in your muscles to escape make you a monster, and you’re out. 

Your body slips through the door, you’re free, you’re free. And you let Chisaki and Todoroki know—you scream, you scream so fucking loud. It’s one of those girly kinds of screams that makes glass explode, but you don’t care how pathetic it makes you feel. You yell into the night, bare feet zooming down your yard and into the middle of the street. You’re flinging your arms, jumping to the best of your ability, and you start crying—finally. 

Lights flicker on one by one, and you know you’re saved. You pause, standing in the middle of the street, stars and relief raining down on your face. Your body sinks, everything sinks, and you pivot around to stare into your home—into the entrance. 

Chisaki and Todoroki hover there, but they don’t follow after you. 

You’re panting. 

But cruel smiles seem to cross their eyes, warbling their visages, and ice frosts across their cheekbones. Those expressions make everything stand still, loose piano tiles that have no rhythm. The darkness seems to consume them as they carefully step back into your home, staying in the shadows. And deafening and drowning realization starts to creep into your fibers. 

Everything is warping, colors that don’t make sense, voices calling out your name, a clock ticking so so so sooo fast. They didn’t even attempt to follow you. They didn’t even attempt to chase you. They didn’t fight each other standing in the doorway. They’re not finished. They’re not done. They’re not going to stop. 

It claps throughout your whole body—Chisaki and Todoroki. 

You’re not safe. 

[fearfulfertility]

CONFIDENTIAL MEMORANDUM

DRC, Black Ops Command, Covert Acquisition Unit

To: Director [REDACTED]

From: Administrator [REDACTED], Covert Acquisition Unit

Date: [REDACTED]

Subject: Surrogate Recruitment via Social Media Application

Executive Summary

This memorandum summarizes the initial pilot testing of "Broodr," a mobile dating application developed by the DRC Covert Acquisition Unit as an identification and capture tool of viable surrogate candidates within the Los Angeles metropolitan region.

The Broodr pilot program aims to:

Test effectiveness in luring suitable surrogate candidates aged 18-25.

Assess the app’s capability to profile and locate high-fertility individuals discretely.

Evaluate the overall success rate of transitioning online interactions into physical capture operations.

Operational Procedure

Broodr was launched covertly through standard digital app distribution channels. It is marketed as a casual social/dating application targeted at young, romantically single men. Four other apps in the market were also disrupted to reduce competition and increase public awareness. The application utilizes advanced profile analytics to identify users displaying surrogate-compatible traits based on fertility indicators such as age, athletic status, height, genetic background, and health metrics.

Once identified, candidates receive targeted messaging from AI bots and doctored profiles using altered photos of athletes and models designed to entice them to designated physical meeting locations. These meeting spots are strategically placed within zones easily secured by DRC rapid response capture teams.

Initial Test Results

Since the pilot launch [REDACTED] weeks ago, Broodr has attracted over [REDACTED] registered users within the target demographic.

[REDACTED]% of identified high-value targets initiated interactions leading to physical meetings.

Capture success rate currently stands at [REDACTED]%, exceeding initial operational goals.

Captured surrogates demonstrate above-average fertility rates, with an average fetal load of 12-16 embryos upon initial insemination.

Key Incident

On [REDACTED], Broodr successfully identified, seduced, and facilitated the capture of a high-profile fitness celebrity at our DRC detainment site in [REDACTED], Beverly Hills.

Mr. [REDACTED], a 23-year-old fitness influencer known for his muscular physique, extensive social following, and endorsements of health products, was identified as a prime surrogacy candidate due to exceptional fertility markers (5'11", 174 lbs pre-pregnancy, optimal athletic conditioning). 

Four real profiles and 28 tailored AI-generated profiles initially contacted him, depicting attractive, athletic personas that closely matched his profile's interests. This sophisticated digital interaction rapidly evolved into sexually graphic exchanges, successfully convincing him to attend what he believed to be a home address for a physical engagement.

“Hey, handsome ;)  Hott as fuck! A stud like you promising an unforgettable night got me seriously curious. What are you into? I would love to work out all your kinks, physical and sexy!” - Copy of Chat Log

Upon arrival at the designated location, a rapid response team swiftly and discreetly apprehended Mr. [REDACTED]. Upon completion of on-site insemination, secured transport protocols were immediately enacted, moving Mr. [REDACTED] to the nearby Paternity Compound 141, best equipped for his subsequent gestation, birth, and expiration. Mr. [REDACTED] was assigned the surrogate ID S-141-548-P (which will be used henceforth to identify the surrogate).

Post evaluations confirmed highly successful insemination, resulting in an exceptionally high fetal load of sexdecuplets (16 embryos), and in under 33 days, S-141-548-P's weight jumped to 534 lbs (+360 lbs) with an abdominal circumference of 96 inches (+64 inches), rendering the surrogate wholly bedridden and dependent on continuous medical supervision. Despite his extreme size and rapidly declining mobility, regular medical evaluations confirmed that S-141-548-P's health remained within acceptable operational parameters.

"I can barely process what's happened—my body’s unrecognizable. I used to flex these abs for millions online, and now they're buried beneath a mound of babies. I'm so enormous and heavy that breathing feels like a workout! I never thought I'd feel this helpless—or this big." - S-141-548-P, Gestation Day 21

Labor commenced on day 33 of gestation, and over 22 hours, all 16 fetuses were successfully delivered. Upon completion of delivery, vital signs deteriorated rapidly, culminating in S-141-548-P’s expiration approximately [REDACTED] minutes after the last fetus was expelled. Post-mortem assessments indicated complete [REDACTED] shutdown, extensive [REDACTED] to the [REDACTED] and [REDACTED] system. 

"I can't stop it! They’re coming! Everything's ripping apart, and every contraction feels like my belly's splitting open. Oh God—I can’t move, I can't breathe, but my body... I'm just so... fat…" - S-141-548-P, Gestation Day 33

Of particular note is that S-141-548-P was well known on social media channels for exemplifying his abdominal muscles, mainly using the moniker “All Core, No Compromise.” The primary cause of expiration was confirmed to be the macroscopic tearing and rupture of all abdominal muscles, a typical result for surrogates subjected to such high fetal loads.

Recommendations

The capture and subsequent pregnancy of such a notable public figure not only significantly boosted internal operational morale but also underscored the strategic efficacy of Broodr as an unprecedented method of securing high-value surrogate candidates. This incident has provided robust proof-of-concept evidence, strongly supporting further investment and nationwide deployment of the Broodr initiative.

Based on the Los Angeles pilot:

Expand Broodr's implementation to additional high-density urban areas (e.g., New York City, [REDACTED], San Francisco).

Increase application analytics capabilities to enhance fertility trait profiling.

Implement additional security protocols to ensure continued operational secrecy.

Conclusion

The pilot deployment of Broodr in the Los Angeles metro area confirms the application's high efficacy as a discreet surrogate recruitment and capture tool. Expansion into additional metropolitan zones is recommended to bolster surrogate conscription efforts further nationwide.

Prepared by: Assistant Director [REDACTED]

DRC, Black Ops Command, Covert Acquisition Unit

----------------

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[stripedstarsblueflags]

goodbye to a world

reading between the lines of the various goodbyes and dismissals to logan sargeant

Pt. 2: Alex on socials

full series

oh, alex albon. you beautiful soul.

it goes without saying that the social media presence of drivers is so important that it’s monitored and orchestrated by an entire group of people– but a team like williams? they’ve got that shit under lock and key. i’ve said this before and i’ll say it again: the shitstorm williams has been in puts an unbelievable amount of pressure on their drivers not just to perform well but to pick up the pieces. they’re at the forefront of the “let’s look forward! let’s keep pushing” optimism campaign that all backmarker teams have to put together for the sake of professionalism. logan basically doesn’t have a social media presence, and you see more of him on the official f1 grid photography dumps than williams’ own account. alex’s posts are more frequent, but the content itself might as well be autogenerated. in conferences, they’re both reserved, careful what they say, always swinging back inelegantly towards the same one-liner: “we’ll look at the data, reset, hope to come back stronger in [next race]”. and unlike teams like mclaren, mercedes, ferrari– the two teammates definitely don’t make posts to or about each other.

alex posts this three hours after the official august 27 announcement:

alex…

this is going to have to be a list again, isn’t it? one post, a few photos, and he’s already said and conveyed so much more than the williams “statements” ever even tried.

first of all, 12:20 exactly? that’s been queued. obviously. we also know that alex found out about logan being axed mere hours before the decision, and i for one think that was absolutely deliberate. they wanted to get logan out– like, physically out of their vicinity– as quickly and as discretely as possible. so are they going to give alex, who’s famously kind and compassionate and talks too much and pays more on-camera attention to logan than practically anyone else in that team… they’re going to give him a heads up? unlikely.

so is there a chance that this post was composed for him before they even told him? that’s actually almost a certainty, but the most important detail to mention is that caption. let’s go sentence-by-sentence.

“i know firsthand how brutal this sport can be…”

wow. okay. i said sentence-by-sentence but i can’t even get past this because… BRUTAL. what a word. this is clearly a reference to alex’s own replacement by red bull. 2019. not that long ago, but considering alex’s f1 presence has already been solidified as “adhd cat dad who can also outperform the SHIT out of a backmarker car” it’s not something that’s called back too often, that he had a shot in a front running team. it wasn’t really a fall from grace, was it? because even in a williams alex has continued to prove himself and put that car way further ahead than it deserves to be. so it was painful but not in a way that, like, max’s silverstone crash is still painful to some people. it’s pretty distant in the f1 public consciousness from what i can tell.

but alex is making a point to throw back to it. not in detail, not heavily, because he’s not making it about himself. the only allusion to the actual event is the word “firsthand”. high is the right way to go about it because saying anything about “back when i” would be going too far, reshifting the spotlight in the wrong direction. but he’s asking us all:

remember when i was a kid and i was trying to build myself up and they tossed me aside like i was nothing? remember when i got discarded by a team that’s burned through so many second drivers already, and left thinking my only f1 legacy would be “that disappointment”? remember how much that hurt?

brutal. what a word. because that’s what red bull is, that’s what they do. famously. but it’s definitely not the word you’d apply to a team that’s supposed to be The Underdogs and A Family and A Lovely Sense of Familiarity and Support what fucking ever.

so alex gets away with this by the way he’s planned out the last half of that phrase: “how brutal this sport can be…” because he says ‘this sport’, not ‘this team’ or ‘james vowles’. so he’s flipping a two-sided coin here:

side one, on the surface. what williams want to see from him and want to believe. the sport is brutal. it is what it is. life’s not fair. that’s just how it goes. no blame but the harsh reality of the sport itself.

side two, between the lines. not too far deep between the lines, too, all you have to do to see this side is not have a compulsive, ashamed, desperate desire to see anything else. this is brutal. what’s happening to logan is brutal. what’s happening is painful and humiliating and you’re leaving him in the dust like he was always disposable, like you never wanted him, like you can’t wait to forget about him and i know because that’s what happened to me.

he’s saying this right to their faces. he’s saying it to everyone.

“…it’s tough to see Logan leave the team mid-season.”

i have a feeling this is the part that was prewritten just because of the word tough. “this is, of course, incredibly tough on” et cetera, we know where that understatement came from. the emphasis is on the fact that the disruption, the replacement is happening literally during the season, which is Such A Mess For Everyone, not the fact that the disruption is logan losing his entire career in disgrace (because he’s already said that part). so this single sentence toes the line so gracefully it’s almost an art.

“You gave it your all brother and it’s been a pleasure being teammates with you.”

this is really interesting specifically for the fact that 1) shortly after james manages to say the same thing as a put-down and 2) he goes on to contradict himself. i’m going to pick up later on the “you gave it your all” part because we will definitely revisit that, but the second half is nice too. it’s not focusing on logan’s performance as a williams driver, or as an f1 driver. it’s about logan– and, to an extent, himself– in a light people don’t tend to see either of them in: as a teammate. when you’ve got a team like mclaren or ferrari where the teammates are so closely matched that their race craft, cooperation and competition is a direct talking point in their racing, we talk about that a lot more often. but alex and logan can spend a race more than half a grid apart from each other, and as a williams driver that’s been true for alex this whole time. so we don’t think of which of them is or isn’t a better teammate because they’re barely driving the same race, and they’re not being treated like they’re in the same team. but even bringing that up in a post is good to see, just another way to give logan an additional title. the williams’ failure, the underperformer, the disappointment, the backmarker, and– oh yeah, alex albon’s teammate. love to see it.

“I know whatever you do next, you’ll be awesome.”

WOAH. okay, talk about shifting the spotlight. what’s been the williams 2024 story so far? i mean, if you were going to use a sentence to describe “how we got here” and “where we’re going”? we would probably see something like: logan’s failure in 24 brought in carlos sainz for 25. the narrative from james vowles in particular is: whatever we do next with carlos sainz, we’ll be awesome. the williams narrative since jv took over has basically been “uhhh yeah we’re nowhere now but WE’RE GONNA BE!! UH! SOMEWHERE! EVENTUALLY!” all about the future.

logan, in contrast… his whole narrative since joining f1 and immediately tumbling has been “he had a chance for a future but it’s gone now.”

not. to. alex. albon. in the wake of this announcement everybody is fucking reeling, and in the context of williams people are buzzing all around colapinto and how he’s been rocketed into the limelight for the better or worse, and all the distraught logan fans are either throwing up or screaming to the heavens, “WHAT NOW??” logan is being pushed aside the same way you’d push some clutter off a desk. he’s evaporating into thin air, or at least that’s what williams are trying to make him do.

three hours in, and alex albon is there to remind us: logan’s story is not over. he’s acknowledging that logan’s future is wide open, empty, undecided and unprepared (“whatever you do next”) but he’s ACKNOWLEDGING THE FUTURE. and the change in tone from third-person “seeing Logan” to second-person “you’ll be awesome”… once again, it’s not about him. it’s not about alex being a nice guy and a nice teammate and showing the world how nice he is by taking pity on this other person who’s leaving. he’s personally telling logan and by extension us: you’ll be awesome. doesn’t matter where you go, what you do, you have the potential to be awesome and so you will be. it’s not even “have fun” “enjoy where you’re going” “i hope you do well” it’s <<you will>>.

“Just you fucking wait,” Alex is saying. “You wait and watch. He’ll show you.”

it’s not just a lovely goodbye, it’s a ferocious goodbye. it’s a statement. it’s a confident send off, maybe the only genuine vote of confidence he’s ever gotten from williams.

and we love to see it.

[ichiwashername-o]

What Are Friends For Ch. 26

An Undertale fanfiction.

Written by ichiwashername-o

Summary: Undyne, Sans, Papyrus, and Gaster travel to the past in one last desperate effort to save their timeline.

Rating: Viewer discretion advised.  Contains swearing, trauma, and psychological horror

Cast: Undyne, Papyrus, Sans, W.D. Gaster, and others

Chapter 1

Previous

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AO3

Chapter 26: Final Gambit

There was no time to think.

Undyne charged straight ahead. She didn’t have a plan, but she didn’t need one! All she had to do was stop herself from hurting Papyrus! She’d kick her own ass if she had to!

Or at the very least, stall herself long enough for Sans and everyone else to take care of that kid.

It hadn’t really quite hit her how she was literally going to be fighting herself. It was like in those animes she watched, where the main character was forced to fight an evil twin/clone, usually created by the super evil villain to thwart them! Because what was a better enemy to face than themselves?

And now in the most brain-scrambling twist of fate, she was the future coming to beat some sense into her past-self.

Time travel is BULLSHIT! she thought.

But this was good, she reasoned with herself! All those late weekend nights binge-watching anime shows with Alphys was going to pay off in spades! She was going to exploit every trick and trope at her disposal to keep her past self from making that horrible mistake.

Her first mistake was trusting that stupid talking flower. She and Papyrus needed to have a talk about Flowey when all this was over, but that was for another time.

Right now, she needed to focus. She bull-rushed straight to the passage between Snowdin and Waterfall where, thankfully, it warmed significantly and Undyne was able to shrug the chill off her body. She slowed her mad sprint to a steady jog, waiting in anticipation. This was the only way to get to Snowdin, other than by boat, and she knew she’d run into her past self in mere moments. 

She summoned a spear to her side, her claws tapping incessantly on its shaft as she braced herself, waiting for the battle ahead.

–

Sans, Papyrus, and Gaster cautiously approached Snowdin, where everything was dead silent. There was no one around; no patrons loitering outside Grillby’s bar, no neighbors having lively conversations on their front porches, no monster children frolicking in the snow. It was a practical ghost town as all the lights in the surrounding houses had been shut off.

“Seems everyone’s hunkered down already,” Sans observed quietly. They moved out of town, towards their house, where the Papyrus of the past was undoubtedly waiting for the human.

But Sans was torn on what to do. He made a promise to that old lady to protect the human if one should ever emerge from the Ruins, but, well, maybe some promises were meant to be broken. Maybe if he had never made that damn promise to begin with, none of them would even be here right now.

But that was in the past, and now here they were, in the past, trying to undo the one mistake that ruined everything. 

Sorry, old lady, but if you knew what this kid was going to do, you’d understand, he thought to himself.

Papyrus turned to study him. “Are you alright, brother?” he asked.

Sans shrugged. “M’fine,” he waved off. “Just . . . thinking about what we need to do.”

“We’re going to stop the human,” he said resolutely. “And we can do that without hurting anyone.”

Even now, he was such an unbearable ball of optimism. But Sans didn’t respond. It wouldn’t do any good to start another argument.

Gaster lingered behind a stride or two, giving the brothers their space, but his movements were labored and slow and his expression was a perpetual grimace. He wasn’t looking well, seeming more and more unstable with every step. And of course, Papyrus noticed that as well.

“And are you ok?” he asked the doctor.

I̺̮ ̉wi̙̯ll̾ͅ ̄̃̄mǎ̙nā̊g̮ͬȇ,  he insisted, his voice much more static-y and garbled than before. J̻͖͙ust ̺ạ͈͓ ̦̙lit̳̻t͍̙͈le̦͉̦ ̼͉̦l̻̪̦oṋ̞g͕̦̼ḛr . ̥.̬ ͖̜̪.͍̝̠ ͖͉͍I ͎jus̱̗͔t neẹd to ͚̜h̙o̫̻͕ld͎̫̖ on̺̪ ͕̬a̗̣̹ ̼l͔̤it̪͔tle ̗̩lon͖̗̫g̭er̰.͙̥  I͕͙ ͔̣m̳̪ust̺͉͚ s̹̫͈e̮̯͖e t͖̼ẖ͔̳is̻ t̯h̭̟̯ro̺ug͈h̫.̼̖

Papyrus and Sans exchanged a look. Gaster’s warning still rang in their heads. This journey was a literal death sentence for the doctor, and it showed with every step and wince of pain on his face. It was a miracle he was still here. 

“We’ll do this quickly, then,” Papyrus promised, picking up his pace.

N͓̱O,̹̜̓ͬ ̏̄̾WAĬ̦T͇ -͇̑-̈́̅̄ Gaster said suddenly, reaching out to him.

Without warning, vines erupted from the earth, spraying snow everywhere. Papyrus threw an arm across his face as one of the thorny vines wrapped around his arm, yanking him off his feet–

A thunderous roar and whine sounded behind him as a sudden flash of blue light exploded, blinding Papyrus for a moment but releasing him of the vine’s grip. Papyrus fell hard but jumped back on his feet, madly scrambling to make sense of just what happened.

Gaster loomed behind him, his expression fierce and focused, a Gaster Blaster skull hovering at his side as he pointed at something past Papyrus. Papyrus followed his gaze.

There, right in their path, stood Flowey, vines lashing as he grinned, his insane gaze locking with Gaster’s. The little flower let out a delightfully devilish cackle. 

“Howdy, Doc!” Flowey said gleefully. “Long time no see!”

Asr͙ỉ̫e͑̏l͍̯͚, Gaster hissed. 

Papyrus did a double-take. “Wait, WHAT?!”

Gaster ignored him. Ge̹̘̗ṱ ̥̬out ͎̤o͖͈f̞ͅ ou͕̻͈r͙̝ way͉. This̠ ̥̫̯i̦̙͖s ̤t̠oo̦̹̘ i̤m̪p̫̦͖ortant.

“Aww, is that any way to greet an old pal?” Flowey crooned. The wall of vines waved threateningly behind him. “I just wanted to say hi, that's all!”

Gaster turned to Papyrus and Sans. Y̙̤o̮u ̯t͉wo͖ ̲ͅgo͓,͙̣ ̻̼̭g̖ọ͇ ̥̫ṉ̱o̞̬w.̯ ̼͈ ̬I̫ ̪̩will d̠̜i̪st͖racͅt ̤h̲im̰.̣̮

“No one goes anywhere!” Flowey said, his vines darting forward to strike at the skeletons.

Sans didn’t let himself think. He just grabbed Papyrus, and teleported away. 

“Wait, no, NO!” Flowey said, growing angry. “You don’t get to barge in here and ruin all my fun!” But he turned back to Gaster, that manic glee returning. “But I suppose I can have plenty of fun with you, can’t I?!”

Gaster closed his eyes, resigning himself to his fate. Yes. This would do just fine. He will distract Asriel–Flowey. He will buy enough time for Sans and Papyrus to do what needs to be done.

And if this final fight should be the end of him . . . so be it.

He just needed to hold out as long as he could.

He summoned another Blaster, and with a furious whine, a beam of pure energy blasted the wall of thorny vines as they descended upon him like a plague of serpents.

–

Undyne was racing as fast as she could to Snowdin, the Thorny Whip in her hand. She knew what she had to do–Flowey had warned her what would happen, and however much it broke her heart, she knew she had no other option–

Then she stopped dead, coming to a screeching halt. Standing right in front of her, right on the passage to Snowdin–

Was herself!

Undyne gaped, not trusting what she was seeing. “What–what sort of sick trick is this?!”

The Other Undyne was standing ready and braced, a spear in hand. “Look, I know this is gonna sound crazy, but I’m from the future and I’m here to stop you!”

Undyne ground her fangs together, steeling every muscle in her body as she swapped out the whip for her more tried and true weapon, her spear. “If this is some sort of practical joke, it’s not funny!”

“It’s not a joke! Look, if you hurt Papyrus, you’ll turn him into an uncontrollable beast and he’ll kill the human and you are going to ruin his life–!!!”

Undyne had heard enough from the impostor. She didn’t know why she had even bothered to stop, she had a mission and she needed to get to it!  She charged forward, screaming with rage and determination and brought her spear crashing down.

“GET OUT OF MY WAY!!!”

The Other Undyne leaped backwards, bringing up her own spears and fending off her attack. She countered Undyne’s attacks with her own ferocity, her yellow eye glinting with the same determination.

They were both fighting for their friend, and they were both going to give it everything they had.

Despite the severity of the situation, Undyne couldn’t help but grin. She had always been dying for a match against a true opponent, someone who matched her skill in every way to push her to the very limits of what she was capable of. And fighting an evil impostor/clone/whatever was the perfect match!

She had done her homework. She had watched countless animes with Alphys and fighting an evil doppelganger was a common trope in those shows. And so she would use every trick and counter she knew of to defeat this evil version of herself and save Papyrus.

Undyne screamed, raining down an endless torrent of spears. The Other Undyne dodged nimbly out of the way, bringing up a green shield to block the attacks she couldn’t outmaneuver. She retaliated with a similar volley, ferocious and unending.

The Other Undyne was grinning, too, but there was fear and panic and desperation.

The same fear, panic and desperation that Undyne was feeling right now.

If she didn’t get to Papyrus soon–

She was wasting time here! She had to get around the Other Undyne–

She jumped high into the air, using her spears to catapult herself over the doppleganger. Once her feet touched the ground, she took off running as fast as she could towards Snowdin.

“Oh no you don’t, you BRAT!”

Undyne felt herself lurch to a stop as her soul glowed brightly with green energy freezing herself in place, she spun, scowling furiously at The Other.

“Well, seems the only way to get away from you is to kill you! So let’s make it quick!” Undyne snarled.

That was just fine with the Other Undyne. She just needed to keep stalling.

–

The world blinked back into focus with a flash of blue and a zap of ozone.

Papyrus blinked blearily, trying to get his bearings. They weren’t too far away from their house, it was just over the hill. All he and Sans had to do was exchange a look, give a nod, and begin their approach.

Papyrus . . . really didn’t have much of a plan. Not a solid one. Which probably wasn’t a good idea. He was mostly winging this. But he felt that he’d know what the right thing to do would be when the time came.

“Do you think Gaster’s going to be ok?” he asked suddenly.

Sans was surprised by the question, but he sighed, shaking his head. “No idea,” he admitted. “Flowey’s a real piece of work.” Papyrus frowned at that, and Sans, seeing his dejected expression, gave another sigh and added, “Then again, so’s the doc. He’s . . . strong. And smart. If anyone could put up a fight against Flowy, it’d be him.”

That got Papyrus a little more hopeful. “But how did Flowey even know we were here–”

“Flowey’s got his own influence on the timeline,” Sans reminded him. “So he’s more tuned in to abnormalities than normal monsters. Us popping in here? Yeah, might as well set off a fireball to announce our arrival to him.”

Papyrus winced. “I admit, I didn’t think about that.”

“Nothing to do about it now. Come on, let’s get moving, I’m not about to take any bets on how long the doc can stall him.”

They approached their house, cresting a distant hill and coming to the edge of the surrounding forest. And there, right in plain view, standing and waiting . . .

Was Papyrus.

Him. His past self.

Papyrus froze. Hm. He had no idea how surreal it would be seeing . . . himself. He was stunned for quite a while, just . . . staring. Sans noticed and gave him a soft elbow to jar him from his thoughts.

Papyrus started. “S-sorry. It’s just . . . weird.”

“Tell me about it.” Sans more than sympathised. “But this is good. The kid’s not here yet. We’re early. We can head back into town, cut the kid off.”

Papyrus nodded. Even he knew that it wouldn’t be the best idea to just go waltzing up to his past self and try to explain everything. That’d be way too confusing. Best if they tried to avoid running into themselves.

The exception was Undyne, of course.

They snuck back through the woods, back to town, and began their careful skirt around the perimeter to see if they could spot the human. 

It took them longer than they liked. Papyrus thought that the town being so dead and deserted would make things easier. But they must have been really early because the kid was nowhere in town. They were about to head further out of Snowdin, across the bridge, when Sans stopped him.

“Wait,” he whispered, gripping Papyrus’s arm. Papyrus froze, and saw Sans pointing across the way. Papyrus followed his brother’s gaze.

There they were. The human child, clothed in their signature striped shirt, a red bandana tied around their forehead and their hand adorned with a glove. They were hunched down low behind a building, carefully scanning in the direction where the brother’s house was.

“What are they doing?” Papyrus whispered.

“They’re waiting for something,” Sans muttered. A lightbulb went off in his head. Of course, how could he be so stupid? “They’re waiting for you.”  

Papyrus’s head snapped in his direction.

“They’re waiting for you to change.”

–

Undyne could feel her pulse pounding in her ears, sweat gleaming off her scales. This evil doppleganger from the future was giving her one hell of a beating, but she never lost sight of her objective.

She needed to get to Papyrus, and she needed to get to him NOW!

She defended every attack sent her way with the green shield, but every moment she could, she strained to break out of the stranglehold of the green magic binding her in place. It couldn’t last forever, both she and her evil clone knew that, but every second she was here was another second Papyrus was closer to danger!

But the second she felt that green energy fade, she knew exactly what she needed to do.

“I doubt you’re gonna listen to me, but dammit, it’s worth a shot!” the evil clone shouted over the roar of battle. “Flowey’s tricking you! He wants you to use the whip on Papyrus! It’ll make him lose control! Don’t make him go through that! Don’t let that stupid flower use you!”

“I’m not about to get brainwashed by an evil clone!” Undyne snarled. “How stupid do you think I am?!”

“Pretty damn stupid, apparently!” Future-Undyne snapped right back.

They clashed, spears flying in every direction. One spear grazed her arm, but she managed to land a solid blow on the clone, sending her reeling, her single yellow eye widening in shock.

Undyne grinned. The blow was hard enough to snap the other’s concentration on her green magic, allowing her to move freely once again.

Undyne did not hesitate. She reached forward, and pinged her evil clone’s soul with green magic, locking her in place.

The Future Undyne, momentarily surprised, took the maneuver in stride, grinning right back at her.

And then Undyne spun right around and sprinted as hard as she could, towards Snowdin, leaving her evil clone in the dust.

She could hear her clone scream in anguish and rage behind her.

She blocked out the sound. 

All that mattered was getting to Papyrus.

She needed to save him.

–

Vines lashed wildly through the air, their thorny limbs whistling through the ice-cold air as they seared towards their target. Gaster only blinked before he disappeared from view, apparating mere meters away and out of the vines’ wild swing.

“Hold still!” Flowey seethed. Vines erupted from the earth, serpentining around the doctor’s fragmented form, but he again disappeared from view, evading the attack.

“You are such a filthy CHEATER!” 

Y̘͈̹our͓ͅ ̳̲̳fi̭rst̫ m̖i̺sta̠k͍̻̱e ̘w͍͚͕as ass͖̤uming̥̭ I͎ ̹ͅwo̝u͚͇ḽ̪͎d̺ f̱igh̯t ̝̲̙f̤ͅa̜̪̭ir̰̬.̱̩ Gaster said coldly. 

Flowey gritted his teeth, redoubling his efforts. More vines came crashing down, more razor-sharp leaves sliced through the air, a hail of bullets pounded the entire field they found themselves in. Gaster responded with a flurry of bone attacks and several of those hellish skulls blasting him away with their powerful breath attacks.

But despite his frustrations, Flowey found himself utterly fascinated by this recent development. The long-forgotten Dr. Gaster, brought back to life?

Well, perhaps life was a generous term. Even now, Flowey could see the glitchy form of the skeleton monster strain with effort, his breaths haggard and labored. Though he remained cool and focused, there was no masking that look of sheer agony that occasionally crept across Gaster’s shattered face.

But why was the doc so intent on stopping him? He must know about his plan with Papyrus, but what caused him to care so much to come back and fight him?

Flowey gleamed. Oh, his plan must work most marvelously if the doc was this determined to stop him!

Which meant that Flowey had to ensure his plan came to fruition by any means necessary.

“Well, this has been most invigorating, the best fight I had in a while,” Flowey crooned. Gaster paused, catching his breath. “Really, way to get the blood pumping! Well, not like I have any of that, hee hee hee! But you know what I mean!”

I͚̮ cann̫̙͓o̦͇̩t̜͔ ̫̪͖l̪et ̭̺̜yo͚u̘ h̪̼̞a̩̙rm͉͖̘ ͈Pa̖̟̼p̞͈̹yru͚s̙͕̳. Gaster said in a low voice. E͈v͈e̲̝̗ṉ ̥you ̘̭̫wi͔ll͚̞̯ c̹̬o̠̮̭m̩e ̖̩to̼̮ ̟regr̦͓͇e͇̭͕t ̥͓̙it͔.

Flowey laughed indignantly. “Because you’re such a paragon of virtue, aren’t you? No, I think I’ll very much like having my own bit of fun! And I’m not letting you stop me!”

Gaster’s hand shot up, pinging Flowey with blue magic, preventing him from escaping. But Flowey anticipated such, hence why he taunted the doc to begin with. Vines appeared behind Gaster and shot right through his body, running him through and tearing him apart.

A static cacophonous scream of pain ripped through the air, but Flowey was already gone.

–

Undyne breached the border of Snowdin, the winter chill hitting her like a frozen slap across the face. It sucked the air right out of her lungs, but she pressed on. Papyrus’s house wasn’t much further–

Suddenly a little yellow flower popped up right in front of her. Flowey! She screeched to a halt before she accidentally ran him over. 

The flower looked up at her, panicked and out of breath. “More are here! More came to stop you!”

Undyne blinked. “What?!”

“It’s too hard to explain right now–but you can’t trust anyone you see! It’s a trick! They want to stop you! They want Papyrus to die!”

Undyne clenched her fist. “So, I’m not the only one with an evil clone here, am I?” Flowey’s only response was a miserable nod. She didn’t bother on the how and why of the matter, that wasn’t important. “Then I need to get to him right now!”

“Hurry!” Flowey urged. “I’ll try to stop the evil Papyrus and Sans for as long as I can!”

Undyne balked. Both an evil version of Papyrus and Sans were here, too?! One was a handful on their own, but if both of them were fighting together, they would be a nightmare. “Are you sure?”

“We don’t have a choice, and we don’t have time, now go!” Flowey urged, and Undyne took off without any further encouragement.

Flowey turned, letting a sinister smile creep across his face.

No one was going to ruin this.

He disappeared, taking off to search for the time-traveling skeleton brothers. 

–

Papyrus stood at the outskirts of Snowdin, not too far from the entrance of Waterfall, anxiously awaiting for the arrival of the human. It had been so dreadfully, hauntingly silent when he walked through the town. Everyone was inside, behind locked doors and shuttered windows. Everyone who was lucky enough to escape the human’s path of destruction, he thought bitterly to himself.

He steeled himself. The human was coming. And they were going down a very dark and dangerous path. For a moment, he had been conflicted between his duties as a Royal Guard and what was right. But he arrived at a conclusion he could be proud of: he needed to help this human find their way, even if it meant going against the Royal Guard’s orders.  The human needed his help and guidance!  Who was he to turn them away?

He heard footsteps rapidly approaching behind him, crunching through the snow. He quickly spun around, his eyes lighting up with recognition.

“Undyne–!” he said. His best friend’s arrival was a surprise but not an unwelcome one–

She reared back her fist and cracked him as hard as she could across the face, tears streaming from her singular golden eye.

–

“Something’s wrong.”

Papyrus heard it, too. There was a faint muffled sound of some sort of commotion, too far to make out any details but they could hear voices and what sounded like some sort of fighting.

The kid heard it, too, and they emerged from their hiding space and approached the sound.

Sans gritted his teeth. Did Undyne fail to stop her past self? No time to find out, he wasn’t letting the kid take another step forward.

He reached out his hand, glowing with magic. Papyrus’s own hand snapped out and snatched his wrist, pulling it downwards.

“No!” Papyrus protested in a hoarse whisper. 

“Paps, we don’t have time for this!” Sans snarled in frustration. “We talked about this, we have to stop the kid, no matter what!”

“And we can do it without hurting them!” Papyrus insisted. “Watch!”

Papyrus raised his own hand, glowing with blue magic. He targeted the snow covering the roof of a nearby building and with a simple flick of his wrist, the telekinetic magic caused it to come loose, falling to the ground in a cascade of snow right in front of the human.

The human jumped, just barely missing the wall of snow. They glanced around, looking for the cause of the disturbance, but shrugged and tried to trudge through the mound of snow now blocking their path. It was hard work, with snow so loose, but they pushed through with sheer determination.

Papyrus reached out and pinged the next house, causing the snow from that roof to fall right in front of the human once again.

The human stopped. They squinted suspiciously.

Sans couldn’t help but chuckle. “Alright, I gotta admit, that’s pretty funny.”

The stalling wasn’t enough, even Papyrus was aware of that. But how to get the human away from . . . from him?

Suddenly, a vine lashed around his mouth, gagging him. Papyrus let out a muffled scream of surprise before he was dragged away. More vines wrapped around him, binding him in place. Papyrus tried to thrash and wriggle himself free, but could barely budge an inch. The thorns on the vines scratched painfully against his bones, causing him to wince. Sans was similarly trapped, his eyes flashing blue and yellow. He was trying to teleport away, but somehow the vines were preventing him from doing so.

And away they were dragged, away from the human. Papyrus could see them crest the last snow mound and make their final approach.

Papyrus tried to scream. But his muffled voice barely reached his own ears.

Flowey appeared before them, that menacing smile greeting them once more.

“Honestly, I’m flattered!” he giggled. “I’m flattered you traveled all across space and time to stop little ol’ me! Which means just one thing: my plan must be something REALLY special!”

In the distance, a scream broke through the deathly silent air.

–

Undyne watched in horror as her friend’s body twisted and convulsed. She had watched Papyrus transform dozens, if not hundreds of times. But this . . . this was different. More violent. More visceral.

The changes were different. The spikes running along his back weren’t that long, they weren’t serrated–his tail didn’t have spikes on the end–his horns were different–

What was HAPPENING to him?!

“What have you DONE?!”

That was her voice. Did she say that?!

But no. Behind her was her evil doppleganger, quickly approaching but her steps faltered when she saw the state Papyrus was in.

Undyne could see the horror and pain and regret on her clone’s face. That expression . . . it was unlike anything she had ever seen before. 

It was harrowing.

Her clone snarled with rage, turning on her. “Do you see now?! Idiot!!!”  She summoned a spear to her side, resolution dominating her features. But still, there was that pain, that regret, that haunting sorrow. “We don’t have a choice now. We have to stop him!”

Undyne shuddered. Another scream erupted from Papyrus as his body continued to change, growing larger and far more monstrous with every passing second. “But Papyrus ca defeat the human–”

“THAT’S NOT PAPYRUS ANYMORE!!!”

Undyne stared. She couldn’t believe it . . . but the proof was right in front of her. That feral gleam in the dragon’s eyes right in front of them . . . there was nothing left of her friend in that thing that now stood before her.

The dragon let out a death rattle as the final changes overcame it. It rose to its full height–far taller than he was supposed to be, far more feral, far more dangerous, far more deadly. And those blazing orange eyes snapped right to them.

Undyne felt her blood freeze.

As fast as a viper, it lunged forward, those terrible jaws gaping wide to snap down on her–

There was a sudden flash of blue and a crack of ozone. Undyne blinked. They now found themselves in the Hotland labs?! She spun around, seeing her (maybe not so evil?) clone by her side and . . . Sans?

Sans was staring up at the both of them. His expression was shocked, understandably so, but Undyne could detect a hint of anger. But it was mostly shock as he glanced back and forth between the two of them.

“Well.” Sans said. “No one told me Undyne had a twin sister.”

The other Undyne began to rattle off at full speed. “SANS! I know this sounds crazy but I’m from the future and I came back in time with Papyrus and you to stop myself from hurting Papyrus–obviously that didn’t work but right now we need to make sure Papyrus doesn’t kill the kid because if he does, he’s going to screw up the timeline forever–!”

Undyne stared at her doppleganger. She didn’t know what to believe. But what she did know was that Flowey lied to her. Or at the very least, horribly manipulated her. And because of that lie, she hurt her very best friend in the worst way.

So now she was very angry.

Sans was still staring at the doppleganger, the shock wearing off and replaced by an unreadable mask. 

“Well, that explains the anomalies I just saw . . .” he muttered.

“Oh, Gaster’s here, too, he’s helping us, so don’t kill him,” the other Undyne added quickly.

That proved to be the worst thing to say as both Sans and Undyne froze, stiffening in rage.

“Gaster’s here?” Sans asked. His eyes were completely empty, his voice low and dangerous.

The future Undyne mentally kicked herself. She should have kept that little tidbit to herself–

“He’s the only reason we were able to get here,” she said quickly. “Look, be pissed at him all you want, but we need to get back there and save Papyrus! Now are you going to help me or what?!” Undyne asked furiously.

But both Undyne and Sans knew that Gaster was undoubtedly the cruelest monster to ever live. He was the one responsible for what was happening to Papyrus, after all. 

The two of them turned on the future Undyne, spears and bones summoned to their sides. Future-Undyne wanted to scream. Her and her big fat stupid mouth.

“I don’t know what sort of trick you’re pulling but it’s not gonna work!” Undyne snarled. 

“You wanna ask him yourself?! Go for it!” Future-Undyne cried. “But we’re wasting time! We have to move!!! NOW!!!”

Undyne and Sans exchanged a look. If Undyne was lying, a lot of monsters were going to be hurt.

But if she was telling the truth, their entire existence could be in jeopardy.

Sans glared up at her. “If you’re lying–”

“You can kick my ass to kingdom come, now let’s GO ALREADY!!!” Undyne said, stomping her foot impatiently.

Sans gripped both Undyne’s hands and teleported away.

–

Flowey dragged Papyrus and Sans away from the imminent battle, feeling them both struggle in his grip. He let out a mad cackle. Their desperation was just so delicious! Perhaps he could indulge their worst fantasies and force them to witness the battle for themselves! Personally, he wanted to see the monstrous Papyrus rip that little brat to bloody shreds!!!

L̥̣EŤ͆͆ ͔̀T��̤͌̀̊ͅE̮̼ͮ̓M ̟̰G̭̻͌̓O̠̎!̲̪͒̽!!

Two Gaster Blasters appeared at the brother’s sides, their jaws snapping down on the vines and freeing them from their grasp. Papyrus jumped to his feet and helped Sans to his. 

Gaster had come to their rescue! But the doctor was on the brink of turning to dust. His body was barely there as it was glitching in and out of existence like static on a television, his expression one of pain as he struggled to stay present. But underneath all that, his eyes glowed a bright and brilliant blue as through brute determination alone he hung onto existence.

Papyrus gaped. “Gaster–!”

Ḡ̰Oͮ̽ͣͫ͋!̦̬̰͕̾̎̆̚!̓! ̼͔̜͔͙͍̄̆͑͑͗̓N̹͒Ô̳͖͕̖͉̦ͬͪ̓̎͌W!̗͍͕̮!̟͔̭̲̓̏̍̓!͉͙̼̱͎̼ͦ͋͛͗̉ͤ

Sans gripped his hand and tugged him along, leaving Gaster alone to fight Flowey. He tried not to think how this was undoubtedly the last time they’d see Gaster alive.

They had to make this count. They charged forward, towards the battle. 

They arrived at the clearing just in time to see the skeletal draconic Papyrus finish his shifting, turning its hellish gaze upon the two Undynes standing before it. It leaped into the air, ready to sink its teeth and claws into the two fish-monsters, before they inexplicably zapped out of existence with a familiar blue spark of magic.

Sans managed to snatch them away at the brink of time.

But they weren’t done yet. They could see the human approach, their eyes lighting up with eager anticipation as they saw the monstrous dragon before them.

And the dragon saw them.

It let out a furious roar, ready to pounce.

“NO!” Papyrus cried. He rushed forward, and using all his strength, he encompassed the dragon with blue magic. The dragon let out a shocked yelp as its body crashed to the ground as if struck with an immense invisible weight. It roared and thrashed viciously, fighting back against Papyrus. Papyrus gritted his teeth, using every ounce of his strength to keep the dragon–himself–pinned.

The human stared back and forth between the two Papyrus-es, one draconic, one humanoid, in complete bafflement.

“Human!” Papyrus called out. The dragon opened its jaws, ready to let out a deadly blast. But Papyrus shifted his focus, forcing the jaws to snap closed. “Y-you cannot fight this! It’s too strong! You will be destroyed!”

The human paused, almost considering it. Then they charged forward, fist raised, ready to engage the dragon. Papyrus winced. No! This wasn’t what he wanted!

“I’m sorry, bro,” Sans said regretfully. “But if the way to stop it is to put you down–”

“No! No one has to get hurt!” Papyrus shouted. He diverted some of his magic to the human, freezing them in place. “We–we just have to exhaust it–him–me!!! He can’t keep it up forever! Just tire him out!”

Sans could have slapped him. Even now, he was so stupidly optimistic. 

But he reached out, and used his own magic to pin the dragon down. It again let out a furious roar, but it was strong. Even with the brother’s combined efforts, they could feel the dragon slipping from their control.

It also didn’t help that the human was so determined to fight the dragon themselves and was fighting Papyrus’s control just as fiercely. They managed to break free, and charged forward, swinging their fist and landing a heavy blow against the dragon’s skull.

The dragon’s head snapped to the side from the impact, but didn’t appear the blow itself did much damage. But it enraged the beast and with a surge of incredible strength it broke free of the brother’s control and lashed out with its wicked claws.

Papyrus was at the ready and caught the limb mid-swing, slowing it considerably. The human managed to duck mostly out of the way, the blow glancing off their side and shredding the hem of their shirt. They winced from the impact but it was a miracle they hadn’t been torn to pierces. Gritting their teeth and steeling their resolve, they attacked again.

“Please stop!” Papyrus shouted. “You’re just making it worse!”

Sans was right by his brother’s side, carefully weighing his options. He shouldn’t have been surprised his brother was so steadfastly resolved to fix this whole mess with pacifism. Sans had to find a way to fix this around Papyrus’s impediment. Realistically, if Sans went full-bore like he did when he typically fought the human at the end of the palace corridors, he could take them out. The human’s LV was still relatively low right now. But attacking the human outright would make Papyrus turn on him and he’d try to stop them. 

So the best thing he could do was keep the dragon pinned down and let the kid finish him off. It was . . . brutal, and he hated the idea of helping the brat kill his own brother. 

But if it saved their timeline, if it ensured their future remained intact, it was the only thing he could do.

“I’m sorry, bro,” Sans said as he focused all his magic on the dragon. It thrashed, its orange eyes wild and wide as it tried to attack, managing a slow and stuttering swipe once in a while, but for the human, it was like shooting a fish in a barrel.

And for that reason, the human was left unsatisfied.

“Don’t help me!” the human shouted.

That got Sans and Papyrus to start. The human barely spoke, and now they were glowering warningly at them.

“I want to fight him! You’re ruining it!”

Sans could have blasted that kid if he could. “Kid, this is a fight you can’t win. This thing is specifically designed to eat little freaks like you.”

“Then let me try!” Then the brat had the audacity to lunge at him! It was enough to cause Sans’ concentration to slip, causing the dragon to finally wrestle itself free of their control. The dragon roared, completely enraged and snapped around, going right for the kill.

Papyrus dove forward, wrapping the kid in his arms and shoving them away just in time. But the jaws snapped down hard around Papyrus, and the skeleton let out a cry of pain. He winced, bracing himself, but he had just managed to grip the dragon’s jaws, preventing them from closing around him completely and snapping him in half. 

He then forced the jaws open just enough for him to worm his way out, falling clumsily to the ground. Papyrus cradled his side, wincing in pain. 

“Human! Are you alright?!” he called out. 

But the human wasn’t paying attention to him. They just charged right forward, fist raised, landing another blow on the distracted beast. It reeled for just a second before twisting around, its tail lashing out to swipe at them.

Papyrus once again used his blue magic to stop the tail dead in its tracks, allowing the human to easily dodge, but they were angry at Papyrus’s interference. Sans regained his footing and summoned a Gaster Blaster and the blast from the skull construct knocked the dragon off its feet.

“Why are you helping me?!”

“Because you can die!”

“I don’t care.”

“Die for GOOD!!!”

That got the kid to stop and stare at him. Papyrus latched onto that moment of hesitation for dear life.

“If I–if that dragon kills you, you won’t be able to come back!” Papyrus warned. “That’s it! No more do-overs! No more resets!”

The human’s eyes went wide. And Papyrus desperately hoped the human sensed his sincerity, or at least his desperation.

The human swallowed, staring down the draconic beast. It was back on its feet, shaking itself off, and ready to attack again. 

“Fine. We’ll fight it together.”

“I was hoping you’d just–run away and let it tire itself out!” Papyrus called out feebly.

But the human wasn’t so eager to throw away such an exhilarating fight. Their approach became far more defensive, reacting to incoming attacks instead of bull-rushing straight on. Papyrus didn’t like that approach any better! They still wanted to kill him!

And worst of all, Sans was in on it. His entire focus was on stopping the dragon at every turn, impeding its attacks by freezing it in place. Then the kid could wail on it to their heart’s content.

Papyrus moved to stop them, but more commotion caught his eye behind him. Arriving at the scene was Undyne! Actually, two of them! Along with another Sans!

The human blinked, rubbing their eyes. Papyrus didn’t blame them if they thought they had started seeing double.

“Come on! Take him down!” Undyne cried out, throwing a volley of spears at the dragon. Papyrus couldn’t tell if that was past or future Undyne. He supposed it didn’t quite matter at the moment.

Now everyone was on the dragon, pummeling it with magic attacks. It tried to fight back, tried to bite and claw at anyone that got too close, even tried to blast them with its devastating laser attack, but the two Sans-es worked together to keep it immobile as the Undynes and the human unleashed their full strength against it. 

Papyrus watched, horrified. This wasn’t right! This isn’t what he wanted! He didn’t want anyone getting hurt! Not even the dragon!

And then it got worse. Vines whipped into the fray, gripping everyone and pulling them away, even pinning the dragon under a cocoon of thorns. Papyrus turned to see Flowey emerge from the forest.

And in one of his many tendril-like vines he gripped Gaster–or whatever horrific remnants there was left of him.

Papyrus gasped.

“Now, now!” Flowey said in a sickly sweet voice. “I don’t think we should spoil all the human’s fun, should we?”

He dropped Gaster unceremoniously to the ground where he splattered like tar, his form incomprehensible. Papyrus could barely make out his face.

Flowey pulled both Undynes and both Sans-es away, leaving the kid free to approach the dragon. He loosened his grip on the dragon as well, letting it rise to its feet for one final fight.

The dragon had been significantly weakened, but it had more than enough ferocity left in it to cause devastating harm.

And Papyrus saw the future play out before him. He saw flashes of red against the snow. He saw the human’s body torn to pieces. He could hear the tortured, agonized wails of pain and grief. 

He felt every crippling moment of pain and sorrow he experienced tenfold. He felt it all in that one moment, and he knew that he NEEDED to stop it from happening ever again.

The dragon’s jaws snapped open, a terrible whine building in its throat as its maw glowed a bright and blinding blue. The human hunched over, ready to strike.

Papyrus rushed forward, screaming.

”STOP!!!”

He threw himself in front of the human, his arms stretched out to his sides.

The blast hit him full-force, all that magic searing his entire body like fire. It consumed him in a terrible pain, pain so complete he thought he would rend to dust right then and there.

It was over as fast as it started. Papyrus collapsed to his hands and knees, every bone in his body shaking. But he looked over his shoulder, seeing the human was unharmed.

The human was in shock. Their mouth was dropped open, their eyes wide, their hands hanging limply at their sides.

Papyrus turned back to face the dragon, who had also paused. It let out a low continuous growl, but . . . it wasn’t attacking them.

The skeleton shoved himself to his feet. He forced one foot in front of the other, limping towards the dragon. Every step was agony. Every move took every ounce of his concentration and will.

Everything hurt. 

But it was nothing compared to the hurt the dragon–himself–was surely experiencing.

He wasn’t aware of everyone else behind him, who were watching, stunned and frozen in place, waiting with bated breath.

“It’s ok . . .” Papyrus whispered, raising a hand to the dragon. 

The dragon flinched away from him, letting out a louder warning growl.

“I know . . . I know,” Papyrus said, stepping closer still. The dragon didn’t move. Those orange eyes were locked firmly on Papyrus, still letting out a steady growl like thunder. “You must be so angry and so scared. I know. I too was hurt. And . . . I did something so very terrible. And whatever hurt you’re feeling now . . . it doesn’t come close to the hurt I felt then.”

Behind him, Undyne winced with guilt.

“None of this should have happened. And I’m so very sorry it did happen. But it can stop.  All of this can stop right now. No one has to hurt anyone anymore. Not them. Not you.”

Papyrus was so close now, so close he could reach out and touch the dragon.

He raised his hand. The dragon flinched away from him.

“It’s ok,” Papyrus said softly. “I’m not going to hurt you. And I won’t let them hurt you anymore, either.”

Flowey let out a snarl, ready to show that stupid skeleton just how wrong he was. But two skeletons and two Undynes simultaneously reached out and pinned him down, preventing him from moving a single inch. Both Sans-es and Undynes glared down at him warningly.

Papyrus stepped closer. The dragon pulled back its head, growling louder, so he stopped, and just held his hands in the air before him. He wouldn’t put a hand on the dragon if it did not want to. He could be patient.

And slowly, very slowly, the dragon’s growls softened to a whimper, and then to a whine. The savage and feral gleam in those eyes faded. And Papyrus could see . . . something within.

Familiarity. Recognition. Pain and hurt.

“It’s ok.”

The dragon closed its eyes. Its body began to shake. 

“It’s ok. It’s over. It’s all over.”

Its head extended forward, its snout pressing into Papyrus’s hand. Papyrus breathed a sigh of relief and wrapped his arms around its muzzle.

“It’s ok. You’re ok. It’s going to be ok.”

And he stood there for a long time, just holding the poor tortured creature, whispering soft words of assurance to it. And then the dragon’s body sagged, overcome by exhaustion, and it crumpled to the ground. Papyrus followed it down, kneeling before the dragon, still cradling its massive head in its hands.

Its body crackled with orange magic, and at this, Papyrus pulled away. He recognized this magic. The dragon’s body began to shrink and change, the horns and spikes and tail all disappearing as it became smaller and more humanoid. In moments, the dragon reverted back to its proper shape–Papyrus.

The Papyrus that was once a dragon looked up blearily at himself, and a brief look of confusion crossed his face before the exhaustion of the battle and the transformation consumed him and he fell unconscious.

Papyrus eased himself to the ground, making sure he was ok–he hadn’t quite gotten over how surreal this all was, but that wasn’t important. All that mattered was that he was ok–

They all were ok.

He turned back around to see everyone staring at him, all with some mixture of shock, awe, and admiration, though Flowey mostly looked furious. But the human especially was fixated on him. And Papyrus thought he saw tears in the human’s eyes.

There was silence. No one seemed sure what to even say, certainly not Papyrus.

But then the human, of all people, spoke up.

All they said was one word, thick and choked with emotion as tears threatened to spill.

“Why?”

Papyrus simply shrugged. He knew why, but he too was exhausted, barely able to stand after enduring a single blow from the dragon. 

“Because . . . because  it was right,” he said. “Hurting people–it never does any good, does it? It just . . . hurts people. It only leads to bad things. You know the old phrase, hurt people hurt people. Which sounds . . . silly when you say it like that. But the pain you inflict on someone, it . . . reverberates. Echoes across everyone they come across. I . . . I didn’t want you–anyone–to have that happen to them.”

The human lowered their head. “I just–I needed to know what happened, and I just thought–” They stopped themselves, shaking their head. “I could always fix things if they went wrong.”

“Not everything,” Papyrus muttered. He grinned. “Why do you think we’re here?”

Again, a heavy silence hung around them. Undyne–the Undyne from the future–came to his side and cast healing magic on him to make sure he didn’t collapse into dust. 

“That was unbelievably stupid of you,” she said, biting back tears. “But . . . It was also really brave.”

Papyrus just shrugged in response. What else was there to say?

But once he was feeling marginally better, he pushed himself to his feet. There was one other person he had to see to.

Gaster.

The scientist was reduced to a fraction of his former self. He was leaning up against a tree, barely holding himself together. Papyrus came to his side, desperately struggling with what to do. Did he need healing? Would healing magic even work on him?

Seeing Papyrus’s distress, Gaster raised a hand–a hand that was rapidly blinking in and out of existence.

D͚̖͓on't̙̘̗ wor͉r̘͙̜y ̩̳a̼̯boṷ̘t m̗̹e.̭ I͉ṭ͎̳ ͓̥is ̙o̝v̘̝ͅe͍͖̳r.

Papyrus didn’t know what to say, because he knew what the doctor meant. Gaster closed his eyes, sighing with content.

I̩̠̜ c̠a̤n g̬o̲͕̤ ̜̖̹ịn̖̥ pe͖ac̩e̠ now. A͕̬̲nd̤̳̦ now̹͕̝,̮̦ so̗ͅ ̗̝̠must͚ ̱̠y̘͇̠o͓u.̗

“But now what do we do?” Past-Undyne spoke up. “I mean, I don’t know a lot about time travel and stuff, but doesn’t having two of us around cause a paradox or something? That’s bad, right?”

“It’s easy enough to fix, actually,” Sans spoke up. Which Sans was that? It was hard to tell. “All the kid needs to do is RESET. And everything will go back to normal.”

“Normal . . . how?” Future-Undyne asked. “Are we just gonna disappear?”

“I mean, technically yes? Because our future wouldn’t have happened. So we’ll no longer exist.”

“So we’re just gonna blink out of existence?!” Undyne shouted. “I didn’t sign up for that!”

“You blink out of existence every time the kid resets,” Sans reminded her calmly. “That’s time travel for you.”

Undyne stared. “Ugh. Time travel is bullshit. It’s now my least favorite anime trope.”

Papyrus laughed.

The human looked between all of them, including the glowering and fuming Flowey who hadn’t yet tried anything because one Sans was bad enough and now there were two and Flowey knew those trash bags were begging for an excuse to throttle him.

“So . . . I just go back? And it’s like none of this ever happened?” the human clarified.

“Yup. Same as always,” Sans said casually.

“Then no one’s going to remember anything that happened!”

“No one but you, kiddo,” Sans said. “Same as always.”

The human’s gaze went far away. It hit them rather hard that no one was going to remember this, or at least, not fully. Sans might remember bits and pieces, he always seemed to have some sort of awareness of the resets, but never a complete picture.

But if the human wanted to try this again, nothing and no one could stop them.

Which, for the first time in their life, was horrifying.

It didn’t escape them what absolutely insane and absurd lengths the monsters went through to stop them. Which meant that the future in which they succeeded must have been truly awful.

So awful that Sans and Papyrus and Undyne traveled back in time to stop them.

It hit them hard and pierced deep. This gift they had–this power of DETERMINATION–they had been using it so foolishly, so callously, not paying a second’s mind to how badly it was hurting everyone around them.

Because they thought it didn’t matter, they could just do it over–

But that clearly wasn't the case. It was just like Papyrus said, there were echoes. Even if they couldn’t see it now, their actions still hurt them. 

The human collapsed to their knees and sobbed. They felt Papyrus kneel down right next to them, and he wrapped his arms around them in a hug and held them tight.

The human decided they didn’t want to hurt anyone else. No more. Not again. Never again.

“I’m sorry . . .” they said. “I’m so sorry . . .”

“I know,” Papyrus said. “But you still have the choice to make it right.”

The human knew that. To them, there wasn’t a choice. So they wasted no more time.

Their soul filled with DETERMINATION.

And they RESET.

[oraclepop]

Hi! Sorry for bothering you but can you please do an scoups love reading? Like of he's currently on something or ideal type? Currently i see him more happier than previous years and hope someones getting take care of him properly. If you don't that's completely ok 🥺💗

s.coups (SEVENTEEN) love life tarot reading

(DISCLAIMER: THIS IS A TAROT READING. I DO NOT CLAIM IT AS FACT. READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION!!)

temperance, eight of cups, eight of swords, page of wands, page of cups, ten of wands, five of swords

he’s seeking peace in his love life right now, looking for a balanced harmonious connection, he wants to avoid drama or conflict. he could be moving on from a past connection, this connection could have left him feeling trapped and and limited, powerless, etc. there’s this new energy of happiness and optimism coming into his life, a person who is fun. there’s the feeling of young/youth, maybe this person is younger than him or just makes him feel young. he still might carry the burden of the past connection, a connection that could’ve been very toxic - arguments, conflict, deception, manipulation, self-sabotaging, etc but this new relationship or connection that is in his life could be making him very happy, excited, like a fresh start.

[gumballavocadoharry]

End of the year:

Nearly a year had passed since that quiet, momentous evening when ‘colleagues’ had transformed into ‘us’. The rhythm of the school year had cycled through autumn leaves turning, snowflakes falling, and spring blossoms unfurling, all while Yn and Harry navigated the secret, thrilling landscape of their blossoming romance.

They were a study in quiet discretion during school hours – shared smiles across the staff room, lingering eye contact during assemblies, carefully casual conversations about lesson plans or challenging students. But outside the school walls, they were simply Yn and Harry, utterly themselves, deeply in love, building a life woven from shared laughter, quiet comfort, and an ever-deepening affection.

Harry, true to his nature, was everything Yn had dreamt of and more. His kindness wasn’t just for the children in his classroom; it was a fundamental part of his being, extending to her in countless small, thoughtful ways. He remembered her favorite tea, noticed when she was having a tough day, and always knew exactly how to make her smile. His protective instinct was gentle, never stifling, simply a comforting presence at her back.

His optimism was infectious, a bright counterpoint to any worries she might harbor. And his affection… his affection was a warm, constant current between them, expressed in easy touches, whispered endearments, and the simple joy of being close. He loved her with a warmth that felt like sunshine after a long winter.

Yn, in turn, brought a quiet strength and understanding that complemented Harry perfectly. Her own gentleness mirrored his, creating a safe haven where they could both be vulnerable and completely themselves. Her love was a steady anchor, her intelligence sparked engaging conversations, and her compassion deepened their connection. For Yn, meeting Harry felt like finding a missing piece she hadn’t even realized was absent.

The shadow of Ms. Grigg had indeed faded into a distant memory, replaced by the warm, approachable presence of Mr. Wayne, the new first-grade teacher. Mr. Wayne was everything Ms. Grigg wasn't – cheerful, collaborative, genuinely fond of children, and possessing a boisterous, infectious laugh that often echoed through the hallways, bringing smiles to faces. The kids adored him, and the staff felt a collective sigh of relief with his arrival. Life at felt lighter, happier.

Now, the year was drawing to a close. The hallways buzzed with the restless energy of impending summer break. It was the day of the kindergarten ‘Moving On’ party – a bittersweet celebration marking the end of their students’ first official year of school and their imminent transition to the ‘big kid’ world of first grade. Yn's classroom and Harry's were decorated with colourful streamers and balloons, tables laden with juice boxes and cookies. Parents milled around, snapping photos, their faces a mix of pride and a little sadness.

Yn watched her students, her heart swelling. They were so much bigger, so much more confident than the shy, sometimes tearful little ones who had arrived on the first day. They could read simple words, add single digits, tie their shoelaces (mostly), and navigate the complex social dynamics of the playground. She had taught them well, not just the ABCs and 123s, but kindness, sharing, listening, and the joy of learning. Looking at their bright, eager faces, she felt a deep sense of accomplishment.

Harry stood beside her for a moment, their shoulders brushing discreetly. "They grew up so fast," he murmured, his voice soft, mirroring her thoughts. His green eyes, so full of warmth, swept over the room. "Seems like just yesterday they were learning where the bathrooms were."

Yn chuckled softly. "It really does. But look at them, Harry. Ready for anything."

"Thanks to you," he said, turning his head slightly to meet her gaze. The affection in his eyes was so profound, so unguarded for that brief second, it made her breath catch. He knew, and she knew, that their shared passion for teaching was one of the many threads that wove them together.

The party hummed with activity. Children showed their parents their artwork, played simple games, and giggled with their friends. Mr. Wayne even stopped by, chatting easily with parents and praising the kindergarten teachers' work. The air was thick with the sweet scent of sugar and the happy noise of children.

As the party began to wind down, the inevitable goodbyes started. Children, clutching balloons and party favours, hugged their teachers. Some were teary, some were excited about the next adventure, but all expressed their affection.

"I'm gonna miss you, Ms. Ln!" a little girl named Lily, who had been particularly clingy at the start of the year, said, wrapping her arms around Yn's legs.

Yn knelt down, hugging Lily back. "Oh, sweetie, I'll miss you too! But you're going to have so much fun in first grade. You're a fantastic reader now, you know."

"I learned it from you," Lily declared proudly.

Harry was receiving similar farewells from his own class. A little boy with bright red hair, Leo, clung to his leg. "Mr. Styles, are you gonna be in first grade?"

Harry ruffled Leo's hair. "Not this year, champion. But I'll still be here! You'll have to come visit me and tell me all about first grade."

"Okay!" Leo beamed, wiping a tear from his eye. "I'll miss you lots!"

"I'll miss you too, buddy," Harry said, his voice a little rough with emotion.

Watching Harry with his students, seeing the genuine love and connection, solidified something deep within Yn. This man, with his gentle hands and boundless patience, was meant to be a teacher. And he was meant to be hers.

Slowly, the classrooms emptied. Parents thanked them profusely, praising their dedication and impact. Yn and Harry stood side-by-side, waving goodbye until the last car pulled away. Silence descended, thick with the echoes of laughter and the lingering smell of party treats.

"Well," Yn sighed, a mix of exhaustion and contentment washing over her. "That's it. Year done."

Harry turned to her, his green eyes sparkling with an unspoken promise. "Not quite," he said, a playful smile playing on his lips. "We have one more stop."

Yn raised an eyebrow questioningly. "Oh? Where are we off to?"

He didn't answer directly, just took her hand, his touch warm and familiar. "Come on."

They left the school building together, locking up behind them. Instead of heading for their usual parking spots, Harry led her towards the edge of the school grounds, towards the path that led to the small, local park nestled beside a quiet creek. It was a place they sometimes came on weekends, a peaceful spot with old oak trees and winding trails.

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows, filtering through the leaves in dappled patterns. The air was warm, carrying the scent of summer grass and blooming wildflowers. They walked in comfortable silence for a while, Harry occasionally squeezing her hand. Yn's curiosity grew, but there was no sense of urgency, only a pleasant anticipation of whatever Harry had planned.

He led her off the main path, towards a secluded spot beneath a large, ancient oak tree overlooking the creek. It was quiet here, away from the playground noise. The only sounds were the gentle murmur of the water and the distant chirping of birds.

Harry stopped, turning to face her. He still held her hand, his thumb stroking the back of her hand gently. His usual playful demeanour was replaced by a quiet seriousness that made her heart flutter.

"Yn," he began, his voice soft, a little tremor in it that she hadn't heard before. "We've been together for nearly a year now. A year of stolen moments in the staff room, late-night phone calls, quiet weekends, and building something really, truly special."

He paused, taking a deep breath. His green eyes, usually so bright and cheerful, were filled with a depth of emotion that made her knees feel weak. "You know, when I first saw you at that welcome meeting, I thought you were beautiful. Then I got to know you, and I realized you were also kind, incredibly smart, funny, and the most genuinely good person I'd ever met. And then... then I fell completely in love with you."

He squeezed her hand tighter. "I knew, pretty early on, that this wasn't just a school romance. This was... it. You are it for me, Yn."

Yn's eyes were starting to well up, her heart pounding against her ribs like a drum. She couldn't speak, could only look at him, trying to absorb the sincerity radiating from him.

Harry reached into his pocket with his free hand. "I don't want to hide anymore. I don't want our future to be a secret. I want to build it openly, with you, for everyone to see."

He released her hand and knelt down on one knee in the soft grass beneath the oak tree. Her breath hitched.

"Yn," he said, pulling out a small, velvet box. He opened it, revealing a beautiful ring glinting in the sunlight – a delicate band with a single, radiant stone. His eyes, fixed on hers, were brimming with hope and love. "Yn, my love, my best friend, my everything... will you marry me?"

Tears spilled down Yn's cheeks, tears of overwhelming happiness and disbelief. This quiet, kind man, the one who made her laugh until her sides ached and who understood her without a single word, was asking her to spend the rest of her life with him.

"Oh, Harry," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "Yes. Yes, a thousand times yes!"

A brilliant smile broke across Harry's face, lighting up his features. He stood up, carefully placing the ring on her finger. It fit perfectly. Then, he pulled her into a tight embrace, burying his face in her hair.

"You said yes," he murmured, his voice full of raw emotion. "You actually said yes."

"Of course, I said yes," she whispered back, clinging to him. She could feel the steady beat of his heart against hers, a comforting rhythm that felt entirely right.

As they held each other, the beauty of the moment settled over her. She thought back to that first day at Idolridge, the uncertainty she’d felt stepping into a new school, a new career. It hadn't always been easy, there had been challenges, but in that moment, standing under the oak tree with Harry's arms around her, she felt an absolute certainty.

Becoming a teacher at hadn't just been a career choice; it had been the path that led her straight to him. It was the best decision she had ever made, one that had brought her not only the profound joy of teaching children but also the extraordinary love of her life.

There were no regrets, only an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the winding road that had brought her here, to this park, to this man, to this perfect, sun-dappled moment where her future had just begun. Their story at Idolridge Elementary had indeed taken the most beautiful turn, leading them not just to 'us', but to forever.

[compneuropapers]

Interesting Papers for Week 13, 2025

Representational drift in barrel cortex is receptive field dependent. Ahmed, A., Voelcker, B., & Peron, S. (2024). Current Biology, 34(24), 5623-5634.e4.

Monkeys engage in visual simulation to solve complex problems. Ahuja, A., Yusif Rodriguez, N., Ashok, A. K., Serre, T., Desrochers, T. M., & Sheinberg, D. L. (2024). Current Biology, 34(24), 5635-5645.e3.

Theta oscillations optimize a speed-precision trade-off in phase coding neurons. Amil, A. F., Albesa-González, A., & Verschure, P. F. M. J. (2024). PLOS Computational Biology, 20(12), e1012628.

Semantic relatedness proactively benefits learning, memory, and interdependence across episodes. Bennion, K. A., Phong, J., Le, M., Cheng, K., Wahlheim, C. N., & Antony, J. W. (2024). eLife, 13, e95480.3.

Efficient value synthesis in the orbitofrontal cortex explains how loss aversion adapts to the ranges of gain and loss prospects. Brochard, J., & Daunizeau, J. (2024). eLife, 13, e80979.

Prediction-based false memory: Unconfirmed prediction can result in robust false memories. Bulatova, O., & Fukuda, K. (2025). Cognition, 255, 106013.

Perceptual constancy for an odor is acquired through changes in primary sensory neurons. Conway, M., Oncul, M., Allen, K., Zhang, Z., & Johnston, J. (2024). Science Advances, 10(50).

Exploring the hierarchical structure of human plans via program generation. Correa, C. G., Sanborn, S., Ho, M. K., Callaway, F., Daw, N. D., & Griffiths, T. L. (2025). Cognition, 255, 105990.

Discrete Synaptic Events Induce Global Oscillations in Balanced Neural Networks. Goldobin, D. S., di Volo, M., & Torcini, A. (2024). Physical Review Letters, 133(23), 238401.

Sculpting new visual categories into the human brain. Iordan, C. R., Ritvo, V. J. H., Norman, K. A., Turk-Browne, N. B., & Cohen, J. D. (2024). Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, 121(50), e2410445121.

Rapid, systematic updating of movement by accumulated decision evidence. Molano-Mazón, M., Garcia-Duran, A., Pastor-Ciurana, J., Hernández-Navarro, L., Bektic, L., Lombardo, D., de la Rocha, J., & Hyafil, A. (2024). Nature Communications, 15, 10583.

A computational approach to the N-back task. Ni, L., & Ma, W. J. (2024). Scientific Reports, 14, 30211.

Social conformity is a heuristic when individual risky decision-making is disrupted. Orloff, M. A., Chung, D., Gu, X., Wang, X., Gao, Z., Song, G., Tatineni, C., Xu, S., Casas, B., & Chiu, P. H. (2024). PLOS Computational Biology, 20(12), e1012602.

Parallel development of object recognition in newborn chicks and deep neural networks. Pandey, L., Lee, D., Wood, S. M. W., & Wood, J. N. (2024). PLOS Computational Biology, 20(12), e1012600.

Intermittent rate coding and cue-specific ensembles support working memory. Panichello, M. F., Jonikaitis, D., Oh, Y. J., Zhu, S., Trepka, E. B., & Moore, T. (2024). Nature, 636(8042), 422–429.

Memory reactivation generates new, adaptive behaviours that reach beyond direct experience. Rawson, A. B., Nalluru, S., O’Reilly, J. X., & Barron, H. C. (2024). Scientific Reports, 14, 30097.

Neuronal circuit mechanisms of competitive interaction between action-based and coincidence learning. Rozenfeld, E., & Parnas, M. (2024). Science Advances, 10(49).

Representation of a perceptual bias in the prefrontal cortex. Serrano-Fernández, L., Beirán, M., Romo, R., & Parga, N. (2024). Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, 121(50), e2312831121.

Vector coding and place coding in hippocampus share a common directional signal. Zhou, Y.-Q., Puliyadi, V., Chen, X., Lee, J. L., Zhang, L.-Y., & Knierim, J. J. (2024). Nature Communications, 15, 10630.

Value construction through sequential sampling explains serial dependencies in decision making. Zylberberg, A., Bakkour, A., Shohamy, D., & Shadlen, M. N. (2024). eLife, 13, e96997.3.