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twixtandshout · 3 years

Text

Tagged by @pidgeonpostal! And not tagging anyone else because I have SOILED the original template (soiled it!!) in deference to my [brushes off skirt] mostly clean public-facing appearance.

...I’ve been making a lot of Spongebob memes lately for someone who has not seen Spongebob.

How many works do you have on AO3?

71!

What’s your total AO3 wordcount?

...306,834. Jesus.

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

Uh. Many! I do a lot of one-offs (and/or start long things I never finish) in many different places. My top three fandoms by fics written are RWBY (29), Undertale (25), Gravity Falls/Transcendence AU (4).

Bet you can’t tell where my hyperfixations have fallen.

I’ve also got some Pokémon and Sonic the Hedgehog fics back on my ff.net account, or I think I still do, anyway, but let’s never go back there pls

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

1. Sweeter Than Honey (Undertale): Taking a Completely unsurprising first place, with over 600 more kudos than the runner-up, the haphazard Underswap fic featuring a post-college self-insert I wrote just after high school! I shake my head some at how overblown and ridiculous the gap between this and all my other stuff is (c’mon, guys, I’ve written way better fics), but this is also the fic which prompted me (and at least one other person!) to start using they/them pronouns. I’ve gotten a lot of really sweet comments about how seen and appreciated it’s made people feel, so I can’t get down too far about it.

2. To Be A Hero (BNHA): I don’t count myself as part of the BNHA fandom, for a number of reasons, but for something that’s arguably the main motivation for the entire plot, Midoriya’s quirklessness is something I’ve never thought has been handled well. This fic marked the first time I (somewhat tentatively) claimed the disability label (thanks again to Sweeter Than for prompting that realization) to hold that lens over canon. It also really shot up my chart, dang! It’s the only thing here I’d consider “recent.”

3. Three-Sentence Shipping (Undertale): Self-explanatory.

4. Brothers Beyond Bonedaries (Undertale): Ah, the way-overcomplicated AU³ I got nowhere close to finishing. One of the things I really like about Undertale is the interface screw, how Toby Fox uses the medium of the video game to pull off crazy things and enhance his game, but most of the fic written for the fandom seems dedicated to explaining it away, grounding it, rather than taking it to the next step and messing with the medium of fanfiction when you keep the story going. I tried to do something cool like that here, playing with questions like narrator and authorship and breaking the fourth wall, even taking the “final boss” fight to a “totally separate” fic reached through the first by link – but, well, then I never finished it, which probably didn’t make anything less confusing for the poor folks who missed the intent.

5. Spirit and Such (Gravity Falls: Transcendence AU): A whole fic written to line out a particular image I had, which, naturally, never made it to the page. I consider it a bit of a cautionary tale for myself when it comes to writing (near-)original content; there’s a lot I look back on and cringe. I still love the characters, though – well, the important ones – and I think just stepping away from the tried-and-true Mizar formula nets it a star sticker here.

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

>w>; I try, but a lot of the time I just don’t have anything to say? Like, oh, you liked it? Neat. There’s not much to respond to in comments like that, and then I’m weighing falling down on an ~obligation~ to respond to every message in my inbox vs annoying people with copy-paste fluff responses all down the page. Plus I know I make more of an effort to comment on things that didn’t get the attention I feel they deserve, so if I’m driving up my own comment count with nonsense, am I preventing myself from being in a position to receive more comments later? And then if I do comment, am I being too effusive or running people’s ears off explaining things they don’t actually need to know? Sometimes people just want to express interest or admiration and don’t necessarily want a whole peek and guided tour behind the curtain.

Can you tell I have anxiety? x3;

Anyway, I do respond when I can. And I keep most of the comments I’ve gotten to go back and reread.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Hm, hmm. Lots of stuff in the TQ Nonsense series would probably qualify! I’m thinking of Unfixable, Wolfsong, and Ethanol. And there’s Bursting Through A Blood-Red Sky (I Can Live, I Can Breathe), of course, but that was always intended to have a fix-it epilogue. It’s just that I wrote it in a couple of hours day-of, stared at it, and decided I didn’t wanna just then. But now that’s As Long As You’re Still Burning Bright (I’m Still Awake), and that’s probably the best romance I’ve written, so that one worked out.

Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve ever written?

Now and then! When the urge strikes. Uhhh, I’ve got a series of Doctor Who x Undertale crossovers I actually made a whole dang verse for that never made it to print. Get a couple great comments on that every few months or so. I think the World Trigger x Undertale crossover is probably weirder, though, by virtue of WT being a very small fandom. My enthusiasm kinda sputtered out on that one.

Mostly I just daydream crossovers with whatever happens to catch my eye at any given moment. I have a lot!!!! Though odds are out on whether I manage to remember any of them once the initial thought’s passed, lol.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Gotten a couple eyebrow-raising comments, but I think mostly I’m just too small a writer to draw that kind of attention.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I don’t? think so? Think my tastes are a little niche for most people to bother ^^;

Have you ever had a fic translated?

I had someone apologize once for any language mistakes in their comment cause they had to run it through a translator! That’s not what you asked (the answer is no), but it’s very flattering to think that someone liked my fic enough to read and comment despite the language barrier.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes! :D @pidgeonpostal was gracious enough to agree to co-write Five Nights at Denny’s with me off an idea about shoes. This has fulfilled a long-held dream of mine (collabing with someone, not the shoes) and also introduced me to some lovely people.

What’s your all time favorite ship?

Who has time for just one? ;3c Honestly, I care more about the characters and how the relationship – any relationship – between them changes them than I do about ~A Ship~ as a solid, bounded noun-object. I’ve got characters I like more and less and feelings about who does and doesn’t have chemistry in which directions with whom, but finding anything that agrees with those preferences is hard, harder when you take alloromanticism into account. I’ll play in any sandbox with cool toys, especially if other folks have already built sick sandcastles there.

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

[kicks every single unfinished fic further under the bed] What nooo no WIPs here, everything on my account is either finished or does not exist

I’ve got a couple extra chapters of Sweeter Than floating around unposted, but 1. that fic’s a mess 2. high school Twixt and post-college Twixt are different people and trying to contort myself into three other me-shapes just cause people Like this fic is not something I’m super interested in 3. it’s headed for an emotional dip and I’d rather leave it where it is than post two chapters, stall out again, and leave folks with a bad end.

As for other fics... it’s looking more and more likely that v7 of my Yellow Brick Road AU will never actually make it out. >w>; I’ve got some really great ideas, but not enough to make me feel like I know what I’m doing, and that’s a big roadblock. Plus trying to engage with RT’s Atlas-Mantle worldbuilding in any serious capacity is... a headache. I can’t recommend the Happy Huntress Cinematic Universe enough, but it leaves some pretty big shoes to follow! And I’ve got small feet. <w<;

What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue’s fun, probably as an extension of characterization. I love tearing into what makes people tick, especially against the backdrop of their environment, the story they’re in, and the people they’re up against. Voice is a double-edged sword; I’ve been told my writing is really recognizable and individual, but on the other hand, I’ve been growing frustrated with with the limits of my narrative ability. There’s a strong rhythm I keep when I write (you might notice it here, even) but that leaves me feeling predictable and stale. I’m not sure I’m great at setting as a matter of course, but I’m pretty good at describing setpieces where the need comes up; that comes from my background in poetry, as does the fun I have with sublimating and abstracting complex imagery. And I think I bring some needed nuance to the universal. For good or ill, I don’t do what “everyone else” is doing.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Well, writing, for one thing. If I don’t know how something’s going to go and don’t have the urge to write it, it isn’t getting done, which means there’s a billion things that will never see the page and a few hundred more that are never getting finished. I lose momentum easily and have a hard time getting started, and I put way too much standing on finding a foothold with other people; as critical as I am of my work, I have high expectations for the stuff that passes muster, and it never seems to measure up. I’m also really uncreative. Yeah, I can mix up elements and extrapolate events, but coming up with things wholesale is really hard, which is why I avoid it wherever possible and steal/reskin stuff from other places instead.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

Something along the lines of “Hoo boy, I am Not qualified for this but hopefully it’s decent anyway.” Maria’s Spanish lines haven’t been a big deal – I’ve used it sparingly and, as a Latin language, it should be easy for English-speaking audiences to pick up on the gist – but I’ve had a harder time with Tai’s Chinese, both because I have Even Less background there and because it is, of course, an entirely different language system. If I write it out in English or Romanized italics, am I colonizing it or changing the meaning? If I write it out in the presumed-original characters (presumed because it’s Google Translate and who knows if I’m even barking in the right forest), am I confusing or alienating my presumed-majority-English-speaking audience? Where should I put the translations? Should I put the translations? And for Frisk’s sign language, thinking back, are the brackets I used instead of quotes alienating/infantilizing? I like that different characters give the text between a different feel, but I’m not an ASL speaker – and I’m pretty sure the word is “speaker,” which would only reinforce that that demographic would rather I didn’t do that. It’s important for all these characters, I think, that they use non-English language where it makes sense; it’s part of who they are. But as a white monolingual English-speaker, I don’t think I can really weigh in.

What was the first fandom you ever wrote for?

Thaaaat’d be Pokémon, followed closely with Sonic the Hedgehog. Whether those fics are still on my ff.net account or not (pretty sure I’ve purged them, but you never know) I’ve still got a couple saved to a folder on my current laptop, ostensibly so I can look back and see how far I’ve come and more practically to allow for the possibility of furthering group cohesion through public shaming.

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

I still like the idea behind The Man Who Is Atlas, and Burning Bright (Still Awake) gets props for being my current fic, though it’s currently in that spot where I’m excited to get new chapters posted but also quietly marking everything up in red pen. I think Harbinger gets the crown here, at least for now.

#answerin' stuff

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springtimebat · 4 years

Text

The Deleted Darla Sunshine Interview

(This tape was discovered in the remains of the Little Patch of Heaven radio station, which had been abandoned sixty years before the expedition. It is labelled “Interview 1: Darla’s Darlings”. The date the audio was recorded is unknown but presumably between April and September according to the conversation contained. Research is still underway.)

[///Audio ready///]

Transcript:

Darla: So should I just sit here?

Interviewer: Yeah just over there. Here, bring the mic with you.

Darla: Yep okay. Ah this takes me back!

Interviewer: To...seven months ago?

Darla: Seven months seems so much longer than it really is sometimes. Feels like years since I’ve been in this room. But I was kinda thinking about Toby. Just a little bit.

Interviewer: Toby Walker?

Darla: Yes.

Interviewer: (Mumble) Do you still think about him? (rustle) I mean do you think about him often?

Darla: Sometimes. Not as much as I used to.

Interviewer: I'm just asking because before we start the recording I need to know if you feel uncomfortable with some of the material. It would be nice if you gave me a heads up you know? My superior doesn’t want me to put you off the wire.

Darla: Oh yeah sure I understand. Are there any questions about the Walkers?

Interviewer: No I just thought he would be mentioned at some point, seeing as he was a highlight in your career

Darla: I’m... I’m not sure that’s the right word.

Interviewer: Are you feeling comfortable? I have a structure to follow and we’ve already gone off schedule.

Darla: Oh I’m so sorry.

Interviewer: Leave amusing anecdotes ‘till later.

Darla: ...alright.

Interviewer: Appreciate it. I’m sure you’ll do fine. The wire’s running so just speak into the mic and it’ll get picked up.

(Squeak)

Interviewer: Right okay. So Darla Sunshine, congratulations on your show’s promotion to television!

Darla: Thank you! I can hardly believe it!

Interviewer: Would you be kind enough to tell us when Darla’s Darlings will be airing?

Darla: I believe the full version of The Horror-Couch will be on in January of next year, which seems like a really strange time to air it if you ask me. But…well Little Patch of Heaven’s studio is so fickle I can’t really guarantee that date anyway.

Interviewer: Oh? Why is the filming fickle?

Darla: We keep changing rooms, station hands, different material is being written without my knowledge. It’s all a real mess. I’m so used to it just being me and the occasional actor. Moving from radio to television has been quite-

(///audioFailure///*^///ResetING)

Interviewer: Very well. Let’s start on the questions. We posed an open letter questionnaire last march for any of your fans and we got an... overwhelming amount of replies back to say the very least! This should be very interesting…

(Rustling)

Firstly, how did you come up with the concept of your character?

Darla: Oh-well the Darla on screen is pretty much the person I am in real life. At least, how I used to be when I was younger. I like to think I’m a lot more subdued now. I was much more eccentric and loud when I was around twelve years old and I used to be obsessed with all sorts of gross things no one else seemed to like. I thought back once I got the job and realised that demeanor could make a great character so the Darla Sunshine you see on screen is kind of just an exaggerated version of me as a kid. The whole show’s kinda a joke on the people I grew up with too, particularly the women I grew up with. You know, women with hair bigger than their heads who sleep with their tupperware, live in aprons and have cocktail parties every weekend. I try to replicate that, but I’m completely messed up and I hold parties with monsters and cook with decapitated heads.

Interviewer: Very interesting. Someone had asked whether you go to the old arena in town at any point.

Darla: Oh! The pit?

Interviewer:... yes?

Darla: I used to go there a lot when I was younger. I really love the atmosphere! It’s just so loud and all encompassing! I haven’t gone in a while sadly but hopefully I can arrange a trip in the near future!

Interviewer: Great stuff. Now how was the interview process for the radio station like? We know you have a background in acting but you must have made quite a great impression since you were promoted within the first month of your employment. Given your own show and anything.

Darla: Oh umm…that’s quite a long story.

Interviewer: We have the next two hours.

Darla: Okay well my interviews were a complete disaster. Something always came up during them. Like, the first was just standard questions. Discussions about my past experiences, what I’d contributed and what I could contribute to the job there. I thought it was strange because, well, they knew me. But my interviewer looked really burnt out so I just went along with it. About half way through a large group of bats fell from the rafter above us and started to attack the guy. It almost gave me a heart attack but he seemed completely unfazed. He just held up an umbrella without so much as batting an eyelid. He apologised and told me he’d call me back after he’d taken care of the pest control problem. Two weeks later, he called me back for my second interview. It was a practice examination so I had to act out one of my skits. I think I did okay until I did a cooking segment I’d prepared for. The oven stopped working and the whisk lost control. It splatted green slime all over the walls instead of the cake mix I’d originally put in. The guy just apologised again and said he’d call once the problem was sorted out. Another three days later he called me back for the last interview. It was November and a blizzard had begun to form as I drove up to the station. It was freezing in the building but the interviewer was wearing a tank top and shorts. His eyes were puffy and his cheeks were hollow. He didn’t look like he was there, if that makes any sense. He didn’t ask me any questions as far as I can tell, the interview was me guiding him back to his car. His back was all crooked and his legs stumbled along in the snow. I had to support him until he grabbed onto the dusty door of his truck. I thought he would just get in and drive off. But, instead, he turned to me. He looked... he just looked so dead. His face was more skull than skin and his shoulders shook so violently.

He turned and he said:

“I’d expect a call from the offices in about a week. It might be linger since the paper work will be put to the sidelines,”

“Yes sir,” I replied.

“We aren’t the most dedicated record keepers either,”

“I know sir. I’ve see my file in town hall,”

“Oh? Why?”

“My parents died when I was a kid,”

“Oh...well I won’t be here for a while. I’m going on vacation you see.”

“Oh, anywhere I know?”

“Nah,”

“Oh well- have a good time,”

I was about to walk away when he grabbed me with a shrivelled, old hand.

He said, “ The building doesn't like you,”

“Excuse me?”

“That’s good, don’t worry. The owners- they made a mistake bringing me here. Knock it into shape Darla,”

I didn’t know what to say so I just whispered, “I’ll try sir,”

“You know things are strange around here, don’t you ?”

I swallowed and said, “Yes I know,”

“People disappear,” he said, “Wolves walk the streets, carnivals steal our children…”

“Sir I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I lied. Because of course I knew. How could you not realise?

“Robert Morrison,” He said suddenly.

“Huh?”

“That’s my name. Remember it,” Then he got into his car, drove into the mountains and was never seen again.

(Sobs can be heard)

No one knew who he was. I was questioned but no one really cared. Not really. The case file was sponged after a week.

Interviewer: He was a nobody?

Darla: Yeah. After that, the owners looked for a replacement but eventually they just promoted me. They don’t even remember his name, you know? What’s your name?

Interviewer: Hannah-Marie.

Darla: Remember your name. It has power. I need to remember his name. I need to remember Nick Carlson.

Audio Failure

Press UNDERkey to follOW

Press under

KeY

To Folloow

System failure

System reboot in process

System triggered

System load

System ready

Audio failure

Audio restarted

Audio skip

Audio load

Audio ready

Audio start

system start

WIRE READY

Time: 1hr 34 m

[1:34]

Interviewer: You are one of the last radio shows to broadcast here anymore. With your jump to television, do you think the old station has been made obsolete?

Darla: I’m not really the person to answer that. I am and always have been an actor, first and foremost. When I got my show almost nobody was around so I had to learn how the different system works. It wasn’t a real passion of mine, machine maintenance. The radio was just a way of being able to perform. I don’t think we should just rule out the old ways as obsolete. When you watch my show later this year, you’ll see the storytelling, the humour hasn’t changed. I haven't changed at all. ‘cept now you can see my face. It’s not about the technology it’s about what you’re showing.

Interviewer: Would you say that about all your work?

Darla: Yes.

Interviewer: Including Toby Walker’s films?

Darla: Absolutely. Those films most of all.

Interviewer: I would think you’d be ashamed of them.

Darla: What have I done that is shameful? I did nothing wrong, nothing inappropriate. I was fourteen. He was twenty nine, almost thirty.

Interviewer: Did you not pick up on anything at the time?

Darla: Not at first. He was my director and I was one of his actors. I did as he directed me, just like everyone else did.

Interviewer: So you did as you were told?

Darla: Yes. Look what has this got to do with anything?

Interviewer: You stated that you’re not ashamed of taking part in a convicted predator’s body of work. The bulk of your career is made up of his films. I just think it’s a bit hypocritical.

Darla: That was years ago. I was a child. I did nothing wrong and I didn’t take part in any of it! If anything, they should show his films more often. To get people uncomfortable.

Interviewer: You want to shock people?

Darla: No I want to get them to think. Maybe that’ll stop it from happening again. It could help children going through what I did.

Interviewer: (unidentifiable mumble)

Darla: All I know is, when he did that to me, I had no one to help. No one to talk to. Then I met someone who stayed by me and it made a world of difference!

(Crying)

Darla: We need to stop. Can we stop please? I feel like I’m going to be sick!

[Audio has ended]

Delete file?

File Kept

Audio ready

[Audio starting]

On behalf of the Little Patch Heaven Film and Broadcasting Society,

We thank you for your cooperation and development

Viewing of this tape is strictly forbidden

Place the wire back into its filed location

And follow the Underkey outside the building

This way, the mayor will have confirmation that you are an official task officer who has authorisation to view the tape

Once outside, wave at the sky

It may seem like a silly action

But

Someone is watching you

Then carry on your way and forget all you have learned

Give respect to our fathers

Our mothers

Our Sons

Our Daughters

Blink at the man in the moon

Tape #235 is property of the Little Patch Heaven police

Any distribution of this audio will lead to immediate incarceration

UNLESS authorised

[///Audio has ended///]

#a devil's palm story #worldbuilding #creative writing #rough draft #horror #fictional interview #part of a larger project #fantasy #parallel worlds #oddcore #weirdcore #cryptidcore #voidcore

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teffyjeffy · 4 years

Text

Fabric Tears (Part 3)

NEXT (Coming soon to the Mystery Shack!)

PART 1

PART 2

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

ONCE UPON A TIME...

TABLE OF CONTENTS

With the sudden task to redecorate the dining room for a tea party materializing in front of everyone, an aura of calmness had settled within the Corduroy household, much to Wendy's relief, Mabel's joy, and Dipper's confusion.

First off, the winter garb finally came off, now that there was no longer the threat of a bear running away while the coats were being removed. Dan was more than happy to house them in the closet located near the entrance. The closet, which originally was only keeping plaid colored jackets in there, now had a splash of color with the trio's coats added to the rack.

The three Corduroy brothers returned in record time with a box of Candyleaf, and whole bunch of other boxes of tea flavors. They all talked over each other with excitement, talking about how the ghostly couple were so thankful for the boy's good manners that they were allowed to the other boxes for free. Dan roared with good natured laughter and got a second kettle of water boiling.

Wendy and Mabel were taking turns between keeping an eye on Mr. SnuggleLots and setting the table up. Mabel made sure to throw a bunch of cute stickers on the tea cups. Wendy taught the bear how to play card games, and thankfully, cards were not in Mr. SnuggleLots's diet.

Dipper and Frisk were taking a break, sitting at the bottom steps of the stairway and watching Mabel, Wendy, and everyone else running around and transforming the dining room into a top quality tea set for Mabel's wild tea party plan. Dipper and Frisk were also using this opportunity to keep an eye on the pets, with Dipper holding onto Waddles, and Frisk giving lovely head scritches to Toby

"Back in the summer, I bet I would've chopped the poor bear's head off by this point or something," joked Dipper.

"I have a feeling you would've faced some resistance from Mabel if you tried that," replied Frisk, holding the torn scarf in their hands and making sure that Toby was far away enough to not consider biting it.

Dipper laughed, setting Waddles down to give himself a moment to stretch his arms. "Yeah, probably. Still though... I don't know if she would have come to this crazy conclusion to throw a tea party if she hadn't met you. Maybe instead, she'd have... pfft, I dunno, encased him in ice and shipped him off to the North Pole?"

"It feels like any scenario is possible if Mabel is behind it," teased Frisk.

"Just her, huh? Sounds like someone's picking favorites," laughed Dipper, giving the child ambassador a playful shove on the shoulder.

"Maybe I am~ Are you willing to prove to me that you are the sibling who's worth more of my attention than your sister?"

"Ohhhhhh no, don't go there. Last time Mabel and I had that kind of dispute, things got... pretty ridiculous. I've hated carpets ever since..."

"If you're going to continue being secret about your stories, you should stop hooking people in like that. I was all down for letting your story remain untold, and then you bring up this sudden hatred for carpets? You have captivated me, Dipper."

The stairway softly echoed with the barks of Toby, the snorts of Waddles, and the chuckles of Dipper and Frisk... when another sound made its way to Dipper's ears.

It sounded like... sobbing. From upstairs.

"Everything okay, Dipper?" asked Frisk with a tilt of the head. "You got awfully quiet."

"I'm going to check up on Toriel. Call me if Mabel needs me," Dipper suddenly declared, making his way up the stairs.

"Huh? Dipper, wait-" began Frisk, but Dipper was already gone. Giving a sigh of uncertainty, Frisk resumed watching the rest of the group set up the table while the pets messed around.

Dipper was able to find Wendy's room pretty quickly, having memorized to route to get there, which he was embarrassed to admit. Without thinking, we twisted the knob and opened the door.

"Toriel, what's wrong? I heard... sobbing..........."

The room was almost completely dark, the only light source in the room coming from the paused image on Wendy's television. And there, sitting on Wendy's bed, legs folded and drawn in to her chest, was Toriel; her eyes were puffy and red, there was a prominent trail of tears on both of her cheeks. Even Papyrus could have deduced that the Ex-Queen had been crying.

Not wanting to stare, Dipper shifted his attention to the television set. The image on the screen appeared to be a home recording of some sort, the kind taken with a big vintage video camera. The background depicted a well maintained house with a wooden floor and fireplace. In the foreground...

There was a little goat kid, eyes wide with wonder, and tears welling up at the bottom of those eyes. He had white soft-looking fur, a tinge of pink to his cheeks, and just... the purest smile that Dipper had ever seen. Pure enough to rival Mabel's 1000-watt grins.

Toriel's yelp of shock jolted Dipper back to the present moment.

"Dipper! I- I wasn't- that is, I didn't... I didn't anticipate that anybody would need me so soon-"

"Nonono, it's my fault, I... I thought you were in trouble and I came running in-"

They both eventually stopped talking over one another and a thick silence fell on them.

"...........I- I'll go-" Dipper started.

"No, it's-" began Toriel, her voice hitching.

...

Toriel continued. "Frisk has... told me about you. How your curiosity tends to drive you."

"Well um... it's not something I'm proud of exactly... but yeah, I'd say that description fits me."

The awkward silence returned, but this time the intensity was a little lighter.

Dipper was the one to break it this time. "Listen, you don't need to tell me anything, my curiosity should not be a factor in this-"

"I appreciate that, Dipper. But let's be honest. If I had you leave now, things will be awkward afterwards, and they'll stay awkward for who knows how long. I.... I might as well tell you, now that you've already seen it."

For one last moment, silence filled the room, the only audible sound being the buzz of the old television set.

"......please come in," finished Toriel.

Not a word was spoken as Dipper warily entered Wendy's room and shut the door behind him, submerging the room in near-total darkness once more, minus the light shining from the TV. Toriel looked down to the floor. She said nothing, but slowly lifted the paw that held the remote... and hit 'play.'

"M-mom?! You made this for me?! It's gigantic! I want it! I WANT IT I WANT IT I WANT IT!!!"

"Ha ha ha ha! I know, it looks delicious, doesn't it! But that's no excuse to forget your manners. How do you ask for things that you want, my child?"

"Mom, may I please eat the cake?"

"Nope!"

"What?!!!? B-but you said... you said that I-!"

"Aha ha ha ha! I'm just teasing you my child! Before I can let you dig in though, your father and I need to sing for you!"

"That song again?? You sing it every year though, ha ha!"

"Maybe. But it is a tradition~ And it's worth singing for you, my bundle of sunshine~"

"Stoppit mommmmmm! You're embarrassing me!"

"Hush now, little one~ And close your eyes~"

The image suddenly went dark, and Dipper realized that the lights had been switched off in the household... then the screen lit up again, by candles being lit on the cake. The light gave the goat child a very calming orange glow. He looked so... happy.

"Okay! You can open them now!"

And he did. Dipper watched him gasp... somehow, the goat child's smile managed to get even bigger.

"♫Happy Birthday to you ♫..........♫Happy Birthday to you♫.......... ♫Happy Birthday dear-"

"Asriel" mouthed Dipper.

His lips had moved before his brain, or heart, or even his voice could process it. But he just knew. This was him. This... was Asriel. The child that Frisk had tried to save... and lost.

Dipper vaguely noted that at some point, tears had welled up in his eyes and they were currently trailing down his cheeks.

"...Happy Birthday tooooooo yooouuuuuuuuu~♫ Make a wish, little one!"

The video went still again. Dipper looked up to see that Toriel had hit the remote's pause button once more, the small box silently trembling in her paw. She dropped the remote, buried her face in her tear-stained sleeves, and let out the most gut wrenching wail that Dipper had ever heard. Instinctively he wrapped his arms around her. And bless her heart, she let him.

"He.......... he was everything..." whimpered Toriel after what felt like hours of weeping in Dipper's arms. "He was full of life... every day was filled with his cries and his laughter... the plan was when he was old enough to become a prince, we were going to surprise him with a throne that was just... covered with honey suckles. Asriel always... always loved those honey suckles..."

Dipper could not say a word. What could he say? He had never endured the loss of a loved one. He came awfully close to losing Mabel at the hands of him, but unlike Toriel, Dipper got lucky. He had his great uncles to thank for protecting him and his sister. But it appeared that Toriel did not have such luck...

Toriel sniffled. "You remember earlier when Mabel said she was willing to share her candy with the coolest mom to ever walk the earth, right Dipper?"

"I remember."

She gave a sad laugh. "Well... this is the day when I remember how lousy of a mother I was. I should have seen the signs. I should have stopped him... and I didn't. I'm no cool mother. I'm not even a good one... I... I was powerless, Dipper."

All Dipper could do was tighten the hug. Nothing could be said. Toriel Dreemurr was going through something that Dipper could never fathom, and part of him hoped that he would never come to learn it.

There was suddenly a gentle creeeeeeeeeaaaaaaak that shook the two out of their hug.

It was Frisk.

Nobody said anything for a while. All that could be heard was the clinking and clattering of silverware downstairs.

"...The tea is ready," finally spoke Frisk. "Mabel is expecting all of us to attend. I can let her know if you need more time th-"

Toriel shook her head. "N-no, I'm alright. You said tea is ready?"

"Yes, correct," affirmed Frisk. They watched as Toriel remained tense. They gave a quick glance to the television screen, before looking back to their mother.

"...The plan was to talk once this was all over, correct?" said Frisk reassuringly. "I'll tell you everything then, I promise. But first, I'd like to have some tea. Mabel will be furious if anyone lets their cup get cold."

"R-right... Yes... Yes of course," said Toriel, standing up from the bed and dusting herself off. "Tell Mabel I'll be right down."

"Yes Mom," said Frisk with a hint of a smile, disappearing from view as they climbed back down the stairs.

"Well... I'll see you downstairs Dipper," said Toriel, wiping her eyes. "Mind shutting the TV off for me?"

"I don't mind at all, Toriel. See you down there," said Dipper with a wave, watching as Toriel disappeared from his view.

There was... a lot to process from that exchange. But it would have to wait for now. Dipper reached forward to press the TV's on/off switch...

...when something on the monitor caught his eye.

The dim background made it hard to see, but Dipper swore that there, sitting in a chair, was another child.

A human child.

...

Dipper hit 'play.'

"I wish that I can stay best friends forever with-!"

"Oh come on Asriel, you wished for that last year. Wish for something else this time, sheesh."

"Hey! That was rude!" said Asriel, seeming to be both shocked and tickled by the remark. "You're such a meanie sometimes, Cha-"

And then there was static. The videotape had reached its end.

...

Filled with questions that he knew he'd have to wait until the right moment to ask about, Dipper turned the TV off and finally left Wendy's room.

Dipper was met with a very lively spectacle.

Dan was pouring cup after cup of various tea flavors, handing them to Mabel and Wendy (both wearing heat resistant gloves) who fanned out to place each cup in front of 11 different seats at the dining room table. Toriel had already sit herself down at one of the seats, but had opted to wait until everyone was seated before she began sipping her tea. Toby and Waddles were running around underneath the table, darting under some chairs and darting around others. The boys and Frisk were gathered in the living room, Frisk eagerly listening to a story that Marcus was telling about how he once managed get himself a gigantic fish from the lake (while Kevin and Gus acted it out in the background to hype up the tale) and all four of them were smiling and laughing. Sitting at the end of the table, his beady eyes taking in the entire scene, was Mr. SnuggleLots.

"Dipper! Welcome back!" said Mabel as she noticed her awestruck brother. She walked up to him and took him by the hands. "Welcome to the tea party! Your seat is right over here next to Mr. SnuggleLots! Don't worry, he hasn't been biting anything since he ate my half of Papyrus's scarf. Come on, this way!"

Dipper let himself be guided by Mabel as she sat him down at his seat. Now that he was at the table, he noticed all of them had a designated name. Starting from Dan's seat, and working clockwise, the seats were as follows.

Daniel

Marcus

Gus

Kevin

Toriel

Frisk

Mabel

Mr. SnuggleLots

Dipper

Wendy

Francine

...Francine? Who was-?

"ALRIGHT EVERYONE!" Hollered Dan, clinking a glass so hard that it sounded like swords clashing. "THE TEA PARTY HAS OFFICIALLY BEGUN! THANK YOU ALL FOR COMING, AND ON BEHALF OF THE MABEL PINES ORGANIZATION-"

"Yes my friends, that is actually a thing!!!" piped Mabel.

"-WE HOPE YOU ALL ENJOY YOUR TIME HERE! NOW, DRINK UP!"

Everybody swarmed the table, plopping down in their designated seats and engaging in lively conversation. The Corduroys, minus Wendy, clashed their mugs together like they were beer mugs, then blew on their cups and gently sipped on them because they were actually hot mugs of tea, not cold jugs of beer. Toriel was giggling as Frisk had managed to get roped into another story that Mabel was telling to Mr. SnuggleLots, whose reactions were proving that he could always understand English like Dipper hypothesized. Looking elsewhere, the boy was pleased to notice that Toriel was looking more and more like her old self, and Wendy seemed to be lighting up from the calm but animated gathering. Dipper couldn't help but smile, happy to see that Wendy was starting to recover from her frustration from the recent lack of sleep.

But in the midst of this discussion, Dipper noticed that the seat of Francine was still vacant.

"Wondering about the empty seat, kiddo?" Wendy spoke up, Dipper tearing his gaze away from the seat to look at her.

"Um... y-yeah I suppose," said Dipper, cheeks turning the faintest shade of pink. "Is it..."

"A seat for my mom? I'm afraid so, champ," said Wendy, giving a gentle smile and taking a hearty sip of her tea now that it had cooled down enough. "Francine Corduroy. Better known by her nickname, Manly Fran."

Dipper looked down, not knowing how to reply. As he looked up, he saw Toriel on the other side. She appeared to have overheard the conversation.

"Manly Fran?" repeated Dipper.

"Yep, believe it or not, my dad was always a fan of tea time. His masculine attitude was a rather late addition. It's how he makes sure that her legacy lives on, I suppose. Though I bet that most of what he does nowadays would just make my Mom howl."

"Did she enjoy tea?" Toriel blurted, before putting a paw to her mouth. It seems she didn't mean to speak out loud.

"Oh she loved it, especially if Dad was the one who made it," Wendy gave a warm laugh. "Her adoration for it is the reason my dad didn't abandon it when she passed..." she takes her napkin and gently dabs at her eyes. "It's our way of honoring her. We do this every memorial. It is... one of my favorite nights every year. It's cool that we managed to find an excuse to do it tonight, but... it just wouldn't feel right to have it without that one empty seat, even if this one isn't for her, you know?"

"I assume that the atmosphere here is... a lot less lively during the day of her passing..." Toriel's voice quivered near the end.

"Oh, you couldn't be further from the truth," snorted Wendy in laughter. "If anything, tonight's positive vibes are subdued compared to the anniversary of her passing. The whole day is filled with stories, memories, laughs, and endless tea for anyone who asked for it. I know it seems backwards to be that jovial during a day of remembrance for a dead family member who was a part of all of our lives- and don't get me wrong, there is a fair share of crying as well- but hey... if we're gonna remember her every year, we all knew that it would be better, and healthier in the long run, to fill the day with as many smiles as there are tears."

Wendy tilted her eyes towards the ceiling. She gave a kiss to the air, gestured her mug to it, and finished the rest of her tea. "Ahhhhhh..."

"That's... that's incredible," said Toriel, wiping her eyes.

"Oh, the tea was cold enough at this point," Wendy assured. "If it was fresh from the kettle, there's no way that-"

"No, I mean... the way your family honors your late mother. It's....... I've never thought of it that way. 'As many smiles as there are tears...'"

"Words straight from my Old Lady," said Wendy, leaning back in her seat.

Toriel looked down, silent. She witnessed her reflection in the steaming liquid. She managed a smile. "Wise words to be sure. I would've loved to meet her."

"She would've loved to meet everyone here," said Wendy with a courteous smirk, before heading out of her seat to quickly pour herself a second mug.

The topic of Francine drifted off soon after, and eventually everyone was back to jovial discussions that were occasionally sprinkled with a bark or a yip. All the while, the smile on Mr. SnuggleLots's face never wavered.

About an hour and a half passed before the mood died down enough to declare that the table should be cleared off. The kids had reconvened to discuss the night.

"I guess we managed to check off almost all the boxes on your Rehabiliteddy Program™, Mabel," said Frisk.

"Oh right, I forgot that that program had multiple steps," said Dipper, proving that Mabel had relied on this program before.

"Right... we still have no idea if this guy has an owner out looking for him," reminded Mabel.

"Or whether or not the owner ever want's him back," cautioned Frisk.

"Or even whether or not the owner is a human, or a bear, or something else entirely," added Dipper.

The kids went silent, stewing in all the questions that were unanswered.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!

Everybody in the house froze. Toby started growling at the front door.

"Helloooo?!" came a muffled, ragged voice of an elder woman from the other side of the door. "Pardon the disturbance! I just need to know if something passed this way! A Teddy bear to be specific! One that's alive, to be more specific!"

The kids shared a glance at Mr. SnuggleLots who was being playfully tossed around by the Corduroy brothers. Did the voice truly belong to the bear's owner?

Frisk shimmered orange for a second, deciding that there was only one way to find out. "I'll get the door."

"Wait, hang on a second, Frisk-!" tried Dipper.

But Frisk had already marched toward the door and opened it.

On the other side was a heavily hunching, stubby old woman. Her skin was heavily wrinkled and had a sickly green complexion. Her hair was gray to the point of looking white, and there was a cobweb or two that was nestled in her shabby locks. And she was wearing a tattered cloak that was decorated with two giant shadows of disembodied hands.

"Hand Witch!!!" cheered Mabel, recognizing the kind hag.

"Well welllllllllll! If it isn't the lady who helped redecorate my caaaaaaave!" dragged the delighted witch. "And the boy as welllllllll! Good to see you!!! I don't recognize the kid in the striped sweater though..."

"Wait, the Hand Witch?" said Wendy, cocking an eyebrow in bafflement. "I thought you were just some myth that Stanley cooked up to sell his overpriced molds of decapitated hands."

"Nope, he and I go way back!" said the Hand Witch proudly. "Thanks to the kind metal-teethed lady, I finally know what it's like to have a sweet heart!"

"You have a boyfriend!!?" squealed Mabel in excitement, slapping her hands to her cheeks.

"Hm? Oh no, he broke things off with me weeks ago," explained the Hand Witch, cheerfully adding, "So I boiled him up and ate his heart! Hearts are surprisingly sugary after you cook them!"

Mabel looked like her own mom told her that Santa Claus got killed in a sleigh accident. "W.... What...?"

The Hand Witch laughed awkwardly. "That was a joke. I thought I was being obvious about that, sorry. We're still together!" she continued, holding up a photo of herself smiling happily and holding hands with... a pale skinned, wrinkly man with unfocused yellow eyes, crooked brown teeth, shaggy dirty hair, and a giant gaping hole in his chest. "I did eat his heart for real, though. He's a ghoul now."

"Oh, okay then!" said Mabel, calming down quite a bit, not appearing to care about the whole eating-hearts thing. Dipper probably did though, considering how creeped out he looked.

Frisk on the other hand marched straight up to the witch and stuck their hand out. "Frisk Dreemurr, Ambassador of Monsters from the Underground. Pleased to meet you."

"Ooooooooooooooo, such delicate haaaaaaaaaaannnnnnnnds~! Um, I mean, the pleasure is all mine!" said the Hand Witch, eagerly shaking Frisk's hand with both of hers.

"Am I to understand that you are the owner of this Nocturnal Teddy Bear?" asked Frisk, seemingly unphased by the Hand Witch dragging the hand shake on for a little too long.

"Yep!" nodded the Hand Witch. "Good ol' Beelzecub is my own creation! Did you kids cross paths with him by any chance?"

"Beelze-what???" Mabel stumbled over her words, when suddenly she felt something land on her head. It was Mr. SnuggleLots, recognizing the witch.

"Ah! There he is!" exclaimed the witch. "Beelzecub! You sure gave me a work out that is only sure to worsen my distorted spine! Why'd you run off?! Was it something I said? Or did? Was it something I didn't say or do? Speak to me Beelzecub! Speak to me, even though I know you can't talk! Was it because you thought I couldn't handle raising you when you turned out to be more of a bear than I intended?!

"What do you mean by him being more of a bear than you intended?" asked Toriel, approaching the group.

"My goal was to create the most Teddy Bearish sentient Teddy Bear to ever roam Gravity Falls!" bellowed the witch, imaginary thunder and lightning booming behind her. "But what came out... acted a lot more like your average bear cub."

"So you abandoned him?!" realized Toriel.

"Absolutely not! I raised him like any well-respected mother should do! Anyone who abandons a child if they don't come out exactly like they intended was never meant to be a parent at all!"

"I mean... do the rules of parenting apply here?" said Dipper, a little perplexed by this strange scenario. "What do you think, Frisk? ....Frisk?"

Frisk suddenly shook out of their stupor. "Hm?"

"Do you think the Hand Witch should treat Mr. SnuggleLots like he's her son?" said Dipper.

"Oh um, I suppose so. She did create him and all."

"See Dipper?!" said Mabel, nudging him. "I knew that Necromancy could be used for good!"

"I'm pretty sure necromancy doesn't apply here," grumbled Dipper.

"If he knows I created him, then why did my boy run away from home???" said a downtrodden Hand Witch. "I did my best to raise him right in the three weeks that I had him..."

There was silence among the group, nobody knowing how to approach this extremely weird conundrum. Even Waddles and Toby were silent.

The silence was broken by a familiar growl from a stomach made of stuffing.

"Oh!" said the Hand Witch, noticing the Teddy bear. "Are you still hungry, Beelzecub? I have a nice plate of fresh fish waiting for you at home!"

The bear said nothing.

Mabel got up to the hag's ear. "Try calling him Mr. SnuggleLots."

"Hm? That's a weird name..." nevertheless, the Hand Witch cleared her dry throat. "Oh Mr. SnuggleLoooooooootssssssss! There's a plate of fish with your name on it if you accompany Mama back to the caaaaaaaaaaave!"

The Trio, the pets, the Corduroys, and Toriel all watched as Mr. SnuggleLots's face turned a sickly green at the mention of fish, the poor bear looking absolutely nauseous.

And everything made sense.

"Mrs. Hand Witch," said Mabel, standing straight. "I believe we know why your pet Teddy ran away from home."

Dipper stood up next. "The reason for him leaving you was not because you were a bad role model, but rather..."

"You were feeding your child literal garbage," finished Frisk.

"B-but, look at him!" pleaded the Hand Witch. "He clearly acts like a... well... huh, actually he's acting pretty much how I envisioned him to act when I made him."

Dipper paced the room, stroking his chin. "I believe that what you had been dealing with was simply a side effect of a hungry Mr. SnuggleLots. It would appear, based on our experience, that the hungrier that Mr. SnuggleLots gets, the more animalistic he becomes. And this is not unheard of; I know a great number of people who display similar behavior when they're hungry. Take Mabel for example. Mabel!"

"Present!" said Mabel, raising her hand.

"Answer honestly! Do you, or do you not, start to growl like gremlin whenever breakfast takes longer than usual to be served?"

"I do!" said Mabel. "I also start biting the table legs!"

"Now then, Ms. Hand Witch," said Dipper, pointing at the witch who was taking notes. "Would you say that Mabel's behavior is well mannered, or not?"

"It isn't," Frisk chimed in. "But it is very much a quality that defines Mabel, and should never be corrected."

Mabel couldn't help but smile at that.

"So wait, hang on," said Wendy. "You mean to tell me that all of this crazy behavior was happening because Mr. SnuggleLots was hangry?"

"You are absolutely correct, Wendy." said Dipper, before returning his focus to the friendly crone. "The point we're trying to make here, Mrs. Hand Witch, is that when you created Mr. SnuggleLots, he was born without any food in his belly. He was starving. And he left your cave because what you were feeding him is not what he eats. It isn't fish, or bugs, or even honey. It is-!"

"Fabric!" said Mabel from behind Dipper, throwing confetti out of her hands. Where she got the confetti from was information that only she knew about.

"So, all that you need to do is change what you feed him," informed Frisk with their index finger up. "If you can't get over feeding him bear-food, then do it in the form of fabric. Knit a fish-doll. Use a yellow spool of yarn in place of a beehive. Things like that. Do that on top of everything else you've been doing for him, and you should be fine."

"I see, I see!" said the Hand Witch, enchanted by the new information. "I shall update his meal planner right away! Whaddya say to that, Beelz- um, I mean, Mr. SnuggleLots? Wow, that's going to take some getting used to... Ahem, well, Mr. SnuggleLots, how 'bout it? Ready to head back to our sweet little cave?"

Mr. SnuggleLots slowly crawled up to the Hand Witch... and gently chewed on her robe. Not eating it. Just chewing it.

"Looks like he's willing to give you another chance," said Frisk smiling.

The hag cackled with glee, picking the bear up and spinning him around. "Mama has missed you sooooooooooooo much!"

Mabel smiled at the happy reunion... but try as she may, she couldn't stop herself from choking up. "I'm gonna miss you, *sniff* Mr. SnuggleLots! Don't forget about me, you- you hear me?! I forbid it!!!"

"There there, sis," soothed Dipper, patting his sister on the back. He looked back to the bear, and gave a gentle yell. "Stay out of trouble from now on, okay buddy?"

"Your mother loves you very much! You're very blessed to have someone like her!" Frisk chimed in. "Don't forget to thank her occasionally!"

The sentient Teddy smiled and nodded, giving one final wave to the kids before the door to the cabin gently shut behind him and the hag.

"Bwaaaaaaaaaaaaah!" came the over-the-top wails of Mabel Pines.

"And here come the post-Teddy-bear Blues," sighed Dipper, giving his sister a big hug.

"Ah, so this is a normal occurrence?" asked Frisk.

"Yep," nodded the capped twin. "She is incredibly loyal to any Teddy bear she encounters. You would not believe the number of times I've had to drag her away from various Lost and Found departments because she gave them a lost Teddy bear and couldn't will herself to part with it."

"Heh," chuckled Wendy. "I guess she couldn't bear saying goodbye to any of them, huh?"

The whole room went silent. Well, almost silent; Toriel took everyone by surprise with her giggles.

"You've been hanging out with Sans too much," snarled Dipper at Wendy.

"The guy's a hoot! Shut up!" laughed Wendy.

"At- at any rate," said Toriel, composing herself, "We should be heading out."

"Wait! We should try to help Wendy out with her sleeping problems!" said Mabel, having snapped out of her state of weeping. "I was going to suggest Mr. SnuggleLots but... he's gone now..." annnnnnnnnnnd the tears resumed.

"Meh, that wouldn't have worked out," said Wendy. "It's right in his species' name: Nocturnal. He'd be up all night, and I'd be spending the whole time taking care of him, instead of getting any sleep. But... it did give me an idea. I think having a stuffed animal would help me get to sleep."

"You want a what???" called Dan, his voice becoming a calm growl.

Wendy sighed and tightened her fists. No backing out now. She was a daughter of Francine Corduroy, and dang it, she was going to act like one.

"You heard me, Dad! You all heard me! I am done with the December noise! You all wanna holler about the upcoming New Year, do it outside! The pub, the woods, the sewers, I don't care! Just do it away from me when I'm trying to sleep! As for the stuffed animal, heck yeah I want one! I've always wanted one, why not!? They're soft, they're quiet, they'll help me sleep, and they don't even cost that much, Dad!"

"Dang, she's going off," said Dipper, almost mesmerized.

"'Tis the wrath of the teenager," said Mabel with deep respect towards the red-haired girl. "A power that you and I will soon acquire for ourselves, brother."

"And... A-and...!" Wendy stammered.

The room went quiet from bated breath.

"AND IF ANY OF YOU HAVE A PROBLEM WITH THAT, I'LL SUPLEX YOU INTO A MOUNTAIN!!!"

There was silence. Not a peep was uttered from any of the Corduroys. Wendy simply waited, puffing and panting...

"BWAAAAAAAAAH HAH HAH HAH!!!" Dan howled with laughter. "THAT'S MY GIRL~!"

"Pardon?" said Wendy.

"First thing tomorrow, we'll stop by the local toy store. You can pick out whichever one you want! The boys wouldn't stop pestering me about it anyway. As for the New Years noise..."

Wendy tensed up.

"Baby girl, I'm gonna be honest, it completely slipped my mind how busy you are with the shack. I promise to take the noise elsewhere. And if you ever catch me forgetting that promise, you have permission to wack me upside the head with your late mother's favorite frying pan."

"You're kidding," said Wendy with a flabbergasted smile.

"Nope, you know I don't kid around with you or any of the boys," said Dan with pride.

"Heh... thanks Dad," said Wendy sheepishly, thinking to herself, Looks like Undyne isn't boasting around when she's giving advice. I keep forgetting that she was a Captain during her time underground.

"Victory for Wendy!!!" cheered Mabel, throwing more confetti from seemingly out of nowhere.

"And with th-thaaaaaattttttt..." Toriel said before letting out a massive yawn of her own. "I believe it's time that we headed home."

As the kids, the pets, and Toriel made their way back home in their winter garb (Mabel now donning a decently lengthed spaghetti scarf thanks to Mr. SnuggleLots biting it down to size), Frisk slowed their pace, drifting away from the kids until the stoic faced child was side by side with their mother.

"Frisk?" said Toriel, curious as to why her child fell behind.

"I knew that today was Asriel's birthday. I knew the whole time."

"!!!"

"And when I found out that you stole the living room TV, I realized it was because you were planning to spend the day alone in your room with the videotape of his birthday. I... I wanted his birthday to be a day of celebration. A day where you and Dad could come together, if only for the one day. I..."

Toriel said nothing. She just picked her child up and held them close to her as she walked. Frisk buried their face in her shoulder, their tiny hands gripping onto her robe.

"I got..." whimpered the child. "...I got so mad when I found out that you were planning to spend the day away from me... from Dad... from everyone. If anything, we could've at least helped you carry the burden of all the grief the day brings you. So... So I stole the videotape in the hope that you would abandon looking for it and spend time with us instead. I should've told you, I know... but... I was scared you'd just turn me away... I'm sorry..."

"Oh, Frisk," comforted the remorseful mother. "You don't have to apologize for anything..."

"...except for stealing."

That earned her a muffled chuckle. Okay, good.

"I'm the one who needs to apologize here. I should have never secluded myself from the group, from Asgore, and especially from you. If you knew that today was his birthday, you must've been grieving a bit yourself. And there is no doubt that Asgore was coping with his own grief as well."

She felt Frisk silently nod against her.

"Did you overhear the conversation I was having with Wendy, Frisk?"

"...A bit."

"Well," said Toriel, giving a murmur of a giggle as she ran a paw through Frisk's hair soothingly, "She told me something that I feel silly for not considering sooner. About how the anniversary of a lost loved one should be filled with laughter, not just grief. I promise you, this is the last night where I suffer in a room by myself on my dear Asriel's birthday."

"Really?"

"I swear it, my child."

Frisk pulled back to look their mom in the eyes and smile. "Thanks, Mom."

"You're welcome, my dear sweet Frisk," cooed Toriel, brushing her snout against Frisk's nose endearingly. "Would you like me to set you down?"

"Please," said Frisk. "I just remembered something I want to tell Mabel."

"Of course, sweetie," said Toriel, setting Frisk back down on the snowy ground. "I suppose we can consider this to be the end of the conversation that we both promised earlier to continue."

"Okay, Mom," said a beaming Frisk, before running up to rejoin the group and say...

"Hey Mabel, don't you owe your brother fifty dollars now or something? The owner of the bear turned out to be a witch after all."

"Huh... that's right! Alright, Mabel! Hand over the dough!"

"I don't owe you squat! I refused that deal, remember?! Frisk, you're my witness! Back me up here!"

"I plead the fifth~"

"Traitor!"

The next day was a whirlwind of activity. The Mystery Shack finally reopened, and it turned out that everyone's fear of a swarm was unwarranted, as there was no swarm. But, there was something new about the visitors that kept things interesting.

Monsters were beginning to visit the shack. Of all shapes and sizes, inhabitants of the underground were stopping buy to peruse the gift shop or experience a tour of the museum. Of notice, there was a dummy that was very brash and loud, but was very respectful when asked to shush. There was a purple spider humanoid that was creepily polite as she bought herself a few Mystery Shack Mugs™ and left a flyer on the counter for the 'First Spider Bake Sale on the Surface!' before tittering and leaving the store. There was even a humanoid cat and alligator that stopped by that Wendy just knew her ragtag of friends would get along with.

Wendy looked like she had a face lift with how much better she looked. At Mabel's curiosity, Wendy spoke about how once this shift is over, she's heading out with her family to visit the toy store and get a toy for each of the kids, and that's when she'll be able to pick out her stuffed animal to sleep with.

"But honestly, I still have no idea what kind of stuffed animal I want right now..."

That's when a peculiar critter, with the cutest face and voice that Wendy had ever seen, passed through the door, followed by 19 lookalikes.

"Hoi! I'm Temmie! Is this the Mystewy Shack???"

Wendy knew exactly what kind of stuffed animal she wanted now.

But it wasn't just monsters showing up. Candy and Grenda finally passed through now that they could, and Mabel nearly knocked Grenda over with her pounce-hug. They spent the whole time preparing sleepovers, catching up, and promising other times to meet up that weren't sleepover-related.

Old Man McGucket passed by as well! He needed a batch of normal AA batteries. When Dipper asked him what invention he needed the batteries for, he hooted and hollered, saying they weren't for him. They were for the alarm clock for his new lab assistant, simply named 'P.N.' Something about that name struck Dipper as familiar, but McGucket had left the store before the boy could ask him anything else.

Frisk had bumped into someone roughly their size. The other kid was in very suspicious clothing: A tiny trench coat, a fedora, and sunglasses. The only thing Frisk heard from the kid was a simple phrase spoken in a boyish, and ridiculously southern, voice. "If anyone asks, I was never here. Good day."

The Mystery Trio was certain the day was over when Wendy left with her family, flipping the sign from 'Got money? We're Open!' to 'Begone from this cursed place! We're Closed!' on her way out. But it wasn't over.

Toriel had been missing for most of the day, much to the Trio's confusion, the only clue given to them was that she had asked Stanley if there was any flour left over from the errands he was running when Tim attacked. Now, they were about to find out why.

"LADIES AND GENTLEMAN," rang Papyrus's voice. "THE EX-QUEEN OF THE UNDERGROUND HAS AN ANNOUNCEMENT TO MAKE! THE GREAT PAPYRUS ORDERS YOU TO PLEASE HALT WHATEVER IT IS YOU'RE DOING AND PAY ATTENTION TO WHAT SHE HAS TO SAY! ALSO IF SOMEONE COULD TELL WHY MY SCARF GOT SO MUCH SHORTER OVERNIGHT, THAT WOULD BE FANTASTIC-"

"As I told you, I will explain everything to you soon," a giggling Toriel promised the uptight skeleton, waiting until everyone had congregated in the living room and kitchen before continuing. "My friends, I owe you all an apology."

The whole crew went quiet as Toriel went on.

"Some of you know- and for those that don't, I apologize for holding this secret from you- that yesterday was the birthday of our departed prince of the underground, Asriel Dreemurr."

Gasps were heard all around.

"I spoke nothing of this occasion previously because I didn't want anybody to know. I wanted to grieve alone. I wasn't even willing to share the grief with my ex-husband, Asriel's father, Asgore. My time of grieving for all these years had made me grow distant and selfish."

She spared a glance to Asgore before closing her eyes, sighing, and proceeding.

"Yesterday, a chance encounter with Wendy's family opened my eyes to something. If I'm going to remember Asriel's passing for every year when his birthday comes around, I'm doing my poor child a horrible disservice by not celebrating. By not smiling. By not laughing. By not spending it with those who were close to him and the friends of those close to him.

She looked to everyone. The misty eyed Stan twins. The Papyrus who was trying his best not to shriek like a dog whistle. The Sans who looked lively for once. The Undyne and Alphys who were looking pumped as all heck. The joyous Mettaton. The smiling Napstablook. The Asgore grinning from ear to ear. And the Mystery Trio, who were slowly realizing what she was about to say next.

"So who wants to help me bake a cake?!"

As pandemonium continued to ensue in the kitchen, Toriel found a moment to pull Asgore aside. They both were now sitting quietly on the couch of the back porch.

"Everything alright?" asked Asgore.

"In the grand scheme of things, absolutely not," answered Toriel with brutal honesty. "Our child is still dead. And with him, 6 other children fell. By your cursed trident."

Asgore could only look down, well acquainted with the crushing shame that coursed through him.

"But... today is a tribute to Asriel's birthday. And you were... are... his father."

Toriel finally looked the ex-King in the eyes. "I may never forgive you for what you did after we lost Asriel. However... you were the best father a boy like him could've ever hoped for. And you continue to be that father for our little Frisk. For that... I cannot thank you enough."

"...that's all the thanks I could ever ask of you, Toriel." said Asgore with a sad smile. "I appreciate you telling me."

Despite herself, Toriel gave a small smile. "Come inside. Cake is almost ready, and I'm not going to sit and listen to your whining if you aren't quick enough to nab a piece."

"Ha ha ha, of course," beamed Asgore.

"♫♫HAPPY BIRTHDAY TOOOOOOOOOOOOOO YOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUUUU!♫♫"

The band of misfits finished the terribly sung rendition of the ancient tune. And yet, it was music to Toriel's ears.

She looked up to the ceiling, wiping her eyes and smiling.

"Make a wish, little one~"

"Mabel, Frisk, you guys go on ahead. I'll be right behind you as soon as I'm done with something!"

"Okie dokie!"

"Understood. See you in the morning, Dipper."

Dipper was just on his way to a long needed nightly rest, when he remembered a very important question he wanted to ask Toriel. This was why he approached her as she was getting ready to settle into her bed with a good book.

"Hey, Toriel?"

"Yes, Dipper?"

"In all the excitement from last night and today, I forgot that there was something I wanted to ask."

"Ha ha ha, and what would that be?"

"Yesterday night... I was watching the tape after you left, and... I couldn't help but notice that there was another child in the background."

"Another child?"

"Yeah! They were looking away from the camera a lot but I think they looked like a human... Who were they?"

Toriel gave a bemused smile. Her face was one of pure honesty, and when she answered, her words came straight from the heart.

And that's why what she said next did not sit well with Dipper at all.

"Dipper, sweetheart, I'm afraid I don't understand. Asriel was the only child we had in our family. I don't remember raising anyone alongside him. Who is this this other child that you claim to see?"

A day spent remembering the passing of a loved one is better went it's filled with laughter and good company. Solitude and grief is necessary, but extended doses of it can be harmful.

Credits Scene

"Tadaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!" cheered the Hand Witch. "I present to you, my dearest Mr. SnuggleLots, with the first round of your new meals!"

The Teddy bear was currently seated at the table, the latter donned with a table cloth and three covered platters.

The first platter unveiled a perfectly crocheted fish, with light-blue scales made of yarn and beads for eyes.

The second platter revealed a giant spool of yellow and brown yarn, representing a beehive.

The third platter showcased a plethora of colorful beads, which symbolized different berries and bugs.

"So which one will it beeeeeeeeee?" dramatized the Hand Witch excitedly. "Take your pick! It's all up to you!"

Mr. SnuggleLots took a very decent amount of time examining all three tasty fabric-treats...

...

Before eating the tablecloth.

"Ah, I see," said the witch, dumbstruck. "You are... quite the picky eater."

Mr. SnuggleLots only smiled at her, his cheeks puffed up from the tablecloth currently in his mouth.

.- / - --- .- ... - / - --- / - .... . / ..-. .- -- .. .-.. -.-- ---. / - --- / - .... . / .--. .-. .. -. -.-. . --..-- / -- --- ..- .-. -. . -.. / -... -.-- / .- .-.. .-.. ---. .-.-.. .- -. -.. / --- -. . / - --- / - .... . / -.-. .... .. .-.. -.. / - .... .- - / -. --- / --- -. . / -.-. .- -. / .-. . -.-. .- .-.. .-.. ---.

NEXT (Coming soon to the Mystery Shack!)

PART 1

PART 2

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

ONCE UPON A TIME...

TABLE OF CONTENTS

#IT IS DONE #AFTER FOUR YEARS #CHAPTER 7 IS FINALLY COMPLETE #See you all in 2030 for chapter 8! XD #gravity falls #undertale #underfalls #gravitytale

12 notes · View notes

purplerose244 · 5 years

Text

All I want for Christmas

Here’s my present for @yellowmagicalgirl!! Hi, I’m your Secret Santa 😎 Here for you a Jlaire Christmas fic hurt/comfort with some fluffy moments, I hope you have a nice Christmas ❤❤ A special thank to @toa-secret-santa for this wonderful event, I enjoyed a lot writing this! 😊

Enjoy!! ^ ^

Here the fic on the AO3

So… his girlfriend was late.

Nothing to fear someone would say, maybe you arrived too early some other would say, take the hint and move on Jim Lame Jr. a third person would add – or that was just a remaining of Steve’s high school reign of terror into his head. And then there was him, who was in a relationship that had survived high school, Trollmarket, Darklands and the end of the world – twice. Who trusted this girl like few other people in the entire world. Who knew to be have been stalling for half an hour at this fancy restaurant, constantly looking at his phone to make sure he was in time.

The waiter was giving him such deadly eyes he couldn’t help but scratch his chest looking instinctively for his amulet, just in case. Only to pet the cloth of his jacket. The Glamour Mask was definitely a powerful item, turning all of his mighty half troll figure into his skinny old self. As much as it felt good to look human again, he could help but feel off. He never truly liked appearances, and lying to himself was ridiculous. Just for tonight, though, he promised himself not to be overly existentialistic.

He could sit on a chair of his size! The wonder!

His phone started to ring, his heart fluttered hoping to finally get a word from Claire. Nope, just good old Tobes. Four minutes late now. Eh, maybe he was getting paranoid.

“Hello?”

“-Jimbooo!! Merry Christmas!-”

“Tobes you said it this morning already. Right at midnight, remember?” Not his ideal alarm, with all the danger faced until now he had become pretty good at waking up automatically with his sword out – poor Bagdwella woke up only to faint right after.

“-Can’t I say it twice to my bestest friend in the world? Aaalso Nana may or may not want me to check in and make sure the sweater she made for you is big enough. She kinda took the cookies hostage so… Merry Christmas, please tell me the sweater is good!-” Jim giggled. How could it not? Somehow his tough troll skin could still melt under the fluffiness. One of the best presents he got all day, even though it was a tough fight against Blinky’s book, a handmade historical volume with all his adventures as the trollhunter and Jim Lake Jr., and the other trolls’ effort to build him a statue like the ones in the Hero’s Forge back at the Trollmarket – out of scratch and garbage, but still heartfelt. Also Claire’s was still left…

“It’s perfect, tell her I say thanks.” The music in the background sounded different from usual, it was definitely not Ms. Domzalski’s usual eighties Christmas movie. More like some kind of Rumba lesson. “Are you guys dancing?”

Toby made a disgusted noise.

“-Just Nana… and Varvatos.-”

“For real?!” Boy did he miss stuff from Arcadia.

Even from the phone he could hear the light shrug.

“-We have our Akiridion friends for Christmas, apparently they don’t know what it is and that is unacceptable. Apart from the geezers’ love show it’s kinda fun you know? Aja has spent a full hour staring in awe at the decorations and Krel is at his fourth hot chocolate. Tried to stop him, kept shifting the mug through all his four arms, the sneaky genius.-” He sighed, but in a playful tone. He was definitely happy to have those two at his home – maybe even Varvatos. “-You’re at the restaurant, dude? How is the Christmas going for you two lovebirds?-” Right on cue his smirking voice appeared, of course. His own fault telling him about all the planning he did for this night – even though there was no way to hide something like that from him.

Jim stared at the empty spot in front of him, sighing.

“Claire’s not here yet.”

“-What?… she’s ten minutes late, what’s going on?-” That was a great question. “-I leave you all alone in New Jersey, see what happens. Do I have to put up a new three rules plan? Like back for the double date?-”

“Not sure how to prove your method since that time I basically went on a date with Morgana.” The implications of that night could still give him the creeps, and judging from Toby’s whine it wasn’t just him. “I’m sure it’s nothing. Besides, she can take care of herself.” There wasn’t even much danger hanging around, only a bunch of goblins and that warrior thingy they threatened away a while ago – now it was a Wizards’ problem.

“-If you say so, I guess I’ll leave you th- Luug for the last time, stop stealing Chomsky’s wife, she’s not a toy! She would be in any other place but not in this house!-” A happy barf came from the phone. “-Well, gotta scram. Say hi to Claire, for me! And to Blinky and the others!-”

“For sure, bye.” Call ended, still no sign of his girlfriend. Everything was too quiet, this fancy place was moved just by polite whispering and some light clanks of the stools. The waiter passed by his table, giving him a very annoyed and questionable eyebrow. “Huh, scusa, sorry, five more minutes?” The man sighed in the subtlest way and nodded, leaving him to his empty table.

Jim started to bump his fingers over the present for her, the red wrap almost mesmerizing to look at. He peaked at the phone. A quarter of an hour. He felt like he was on the verge of the ‘maybe I should send a message’, but couldn’t shake away the ‘I’m definitely I’m exaggerating’ feeling. Or maybe he was just hungry. When they started to plan this special night Claire had insisted to come to this specific Italian restaurant, ‘La Gialla Ragazza Magica’, saying there was something on the menu that she thought even his troll tongue might appreciate. It was certainly a nice thought. His first normal date at a normal place in a while, with his not so ordinary girlfriend.

Who was… peaking at the window? All covered in mud?

Jim jumped on his feet, the chair falling down. Right when their eyes met he saw the faintest tears forming, and his heart broke right there. The moment she tried to escape he was already running, probably bumping the famous waiter who broke in a few furiously whispered Italian curses.

Who cared? He didn’t. Nothing else mattered.

It had snowed a couple of days prior, now the streets were covered in white wonder. He almost slipped a couple of times but didn’t slow down. It was just a matter of showing her how serious he was. Because there was no way she could outrun him, Claire knew it well. That was why, as soon as they stumbled in an old forgotten park, hidden behind a bunch of dry trees ready to be taken down, she slowly stopped, panting softly.

Jim did the same, exhaling just one breath before scooting closer. Her tearful eyes blocked him.

“It’s nothing, I promise.” She immediately wiped away her tears.

“Claire what happened?” An attack? Another enemy? The guilt for waiting impatiently was starting to burn his stomach. He approached her cautiously, like she could run away again if he tried a rush move. “Was it the knight thingy again? Someone else?”

“No one attacked me Jim. It’s… it’s not important.” She took a bench and sat on it, looking at everything but him. She could be so stubborn sometimes. Even while wearing a purple dress covered in mud all over the gown. Even while having a lavender coat with one shoulder unstitched. Even while holding for dear life against her chest a silver bag with a blue ribbon. Even while biting her lip just to hold everything for herself.

Jim sat nearby and smiled at her, gently taking her face between his hands. It was weird again, seeing his human hands. Like nothing had really changed after all.

“I don’t really like how this not important is making my girlfriend cry. Should I beat him up?” Claire rolled her eyes, even if a little grin escaped her lips. “Ah, there, that’s better. That’s all I want for Christm- Oh my gosh, old overused Christmas songs are prophetic, what do you know.” He gained a giggle, the night was getting wonderful already. He slowly took her hands, bringing them together, cold and shaking. The bag softly drifted against her chest. “Alright, spill.”

Claire sighed, looking better, leaning into his hold.

“It’s stupid, really.”

“If you’re involved then it’s definitely not.” She shrugged, eyes down, still looking unsure. “Come on Claire, don’t make me speak Spanish to you, you know I can do that!” Ah, a snort. He was definitely going in the right direction.

“Please spare me from such painful experience.”

��Then you know what to do, chica loca.” Every single one of Senor Uhl’s harsh lessons was worth it just to hear this laugh, a wonderful sound able to turn the cold winter just a little bit warmer.

Claire looked down at the present, her smile slowly fading into disappointment.

“I just... I struggled a little to find the perfect present for you.” Claire Nunez getting this late for an event? “I already made something for you like a month ago.” Oh thank goodness, now the world was in balance again. “But the more I thought about it the silliest it looked and...” She grunted, frustrated, crossing her arms over her stomach, the bag in the middle. “I don’t know, I freaked out. And then I come to this exotic restaurant with all the atmosphere, with my boyfriend all elegant and a present ready on the table that is definitely gonna be amazing and...” Claire whined, giving him a smile. “You just have to make everything special for me, do you?”

Jim winced, scooting closer, a little wary.

“You don’t like that?”

“I love that. Makes me wanna do something in return, and this is what happens when I try.” She sighed, looking down at her gown. “… I was trying to find a spell for making you human again.” Jim couldn’t help but gasp, looking at her in disbelief. “I know you’re seeing everything in a better light now, I know you’re embracing your new life and you’re okay with that. It was supposed to be for one night, tonight, instead of using the Glamour Mask.” Claire’s eyes fell, the faintest bags underneath. Just how long she studied for that? “But I failed, none of the spells I tried had worked, not even after I sneaked some of Merlin’s old books.” A natural scowl took over her face for a moment, forever marked as a reaction to that name. “I’m sorry Jim. I wanted to give you the best Christmas after all you’ve been through, and now…” She took the bag between her hands, her wet cheeks vivid under the streetlights. Shook by the disappointment and the hatred.

But oh, if Jim cared about that awful guy right now. There was absolutely nothing that could distract him from this wonderful warm feeling taking over inside, challenging winter for supremacy and winning without a sweat.

She did it for him. For no one but him.

Jim hugged her, waiting for her surprised hands to lean on his back. If there was something good that truly came from his transformation was how life had became so much vivid. All of his senses were hyperactive, capturing everything around him. The pinching caress of the winter breeze, the chatters of citizens excited for festivities, the Christmas lights so painfully beautiful, the mouthwatering smell of doughnuts in the streets.

And her. Her scent, her voice, her touch.

“I love you.” Her sweet, gentle shiver as words took place into the air. To the point even Jim was forced to acknowledge them. Right. He never said that before, such an obvious yet fundamental thing. Right now it felt just right.

Claire pushed him away just to look into his eyes. In her brown irises there was astonishment, wonder, awe. Love. So much love, blossoming in her smile. And in her laugh.

“Took you long enough.”

Jim grinned. Right, he couldn’t even gather the courage to ask her to prom, let alone the l-word. She was simply one step ahead, and he would had not taken it any other way.

“You just have a quicker pace. I’m catching you, always will.” Or maybe she was willing to wait for him to speed up. That was what he thought, when she took the Glamour Mask off his face for just a moment, his blue fuzzy face in full view in the Christmas night. She was ready to make sure he was seen, was welcomed, was close, like right now when she kissed him so gently with her cold lips, the caress of a snowflake. Making him forget who was troll, who was human, and what actually mattered outside this moment.

When Claire pulled away, lips beautifully red and lucid, the regret was still apparent into her eyes.

“… I’m sorry it didn’t work out. I really wanted to give you something special tonight.” She put back the mask, smiling weakly.

Jim tenderly caressed her cheek.

“You wanna give me something special? Please let’s get to our table, I’m pretty sure one of the waiter is already done with me.” She arched an eyebrow in confusion. “… I came an hour earlier to make sure I was on time. Kept stalling the entire night.”

Claire giggled, the lights got brighter.

“James Lake Junior, are you for real?”

“Hey, I’m allowed to be nervous the night of Christmas for a dinner date, especially if my girlfriend is late!” She rolled her eyes but nodded nonetheless. “… maybe you wanna go home and change? Or we can just forget about dinner, if you’re not in the mood anymore.” The last thing he would had wanted was upset her, especially after knowing how much she had worked on this.

Claire gave him a look. She eyed her dress, smiled slyly and traced the outline of the spots with her fingers. She whispered something, her eyes turned purple for a moment, and the mud came out of the cloth falling on the snow.

“I like this dress, thank you. Also I’m starving, shall we?” She extended a hand towards him, smiling softly. Glowing as soon as he took the invitation. Right, no chivalry with this sorceress, Claire could be her own knight with no problem.

Getting back inside the restaurant proved to be a little less problematic than he expected, he wasn’t sure if it was his inerasable reservation, the present he left at the table kinda like a placeholder, or the beautiful lady by his side. They simply managed to avoid the waiter’s very obvious irritated expression and take place. The atmosphere was already different, as one of the musician started playing some Christmas song at the piano.

Jim was distractively playing with a toothpick between his fingers, without missing Claire’s worried glance at his present for her. He sighed.

“Look, how about we just get this over with? So you can relax a little.” She hummed slightly then nodded. He pushed the bag towards her. “Here. I hope you like it.” Claire smiled and started unwrapping, try to peak inside as soon as a hole appeared. When it was finally uncovered she gasped with glee, looking at the brand new edition of Romeo and Juliet in her hand. The cover was white with black roses at the edges, a single red bottle under the big title.

“Oh Jim, it’s beautiful!”

Jim grinned, keeping a sigh of relief for himself.

“I know you left your copy at Arcadia, so I thought why not?” He took his time to admire this theatre kid getting lost on her world. “There’s a little note inside.” And thinking about how much sleep he lost just thinking about those three lines almost made him yawn on the place. When she looked at his dedication, right next to the first chapter, he could almost hear her thoughts reading out loud.

Back there I was your Romeo, you were my Juliet

Today, together, we’re our own happy ending

I love you, Claire Nunez

JLJ

It didn’t rhyme and that sucked, it was the first conclusion he came to when he had finished the thirtieth draft. But when Claire’s lips gingerly touched his once again, with her standing up without caring for the attention, he couldn’t help but feel overly proud about himself.

Claire looked tearful again, and so happy.

“I love you too.” She went back to her seat, looking at the book with adoration. “Thank you, it’s perfect, this is just… perfect.” Her eyes went down again, as she warily gave him the present. This honor student had always took her most important assignments very seriously, going for a second option was probably painful.

Jim took the bag. It felt very light, and kinda soft. A sweater? A scarf?

“Claire you know if it’s coming from you I already love it, right? Like, it would be physically impossible for me to hate something that you bought for me.”

“Then there’s a problem, since I didn’t buy it.” She just gesture for him to get it over with.

Jim frowned, opening the bag. And there it was, red, white, fluffy. A big Santa hat made of wool, clearly handmade, with a precise texture even if a little loose. It had a little bell on the top that made him smile when he shook it.

“This is adorable, you made it yourself?”

“Well, yeah, but I did get some lessons from Lucy through webcam.”

“Who’s Lucy?”

“Aja and Krel’s adoptive mom or something, Toby told me about her as soon as I explained to him what I wanted to do.” Of course Tobes knew, that guy was everyone’s connection. “It’s just a little something, and it still came out a little amateurish… doesn’t really compare with this.” Her hands were still on the book, down but still so happy.

Jim smiled at her.

“What? You made this for me, this is the best! Let me try it… what…” He should had not notice probably, as his thumb slipped into a hole of the hat. “I-I probably shook it too hard, sorry!”

But Claire shook her head.

“It was there already. There are two holes actually. I put them.”

“Why would you…” As the second hole was revealed, and the realization of how perfectly placed the entrances were from each other, Jim gasped. “… oh my gosh. Oh my gosh, it’s a Christmas hat with holes for my horns. You made me a hat with space for my horns!” How he wished he could erase the expression of uncertainty from her face right this moment, but the joy was too much for him to do anything. Just imagining her careful fingers tracing the cloth and making sure to leave that little particularity was enough to leave him speechless.

Claire was worried. But she was also really, really smart, and Jim was most certain he was crying some happy tears while dealing with this bright shock of joy.

“… so you like it?”

“I love it!” He smiled at her. “Thank you.” He put it on, without caring how disproportional it looked over his human head – for the first time ever he couldn’t wait to go back to his troll appearance. He tried to reach her over the table, his hand met hers midway and their fingers intertwined.

Her eyes were so bright and full it was almost too much to look at.

“You deserve this and so much more. You know you do, right?”

Jim shrugged, tracing her knuckles.

“Well, I’m not asking for anything more but this.” How messy and chaotic were their lives to enjoy just a simple breath while holding each other’s hands like this? Little they cared. Jim might have been content with just being like this for a few hours… but he was also hungry. Troll hungry. “Now, this is a really nice place, but what do I eat exactly?”

Claire took the menu and smirked, like she was expecting that question.

“Puzzone di Moena.”

“Come again?” She giggled.

“It’s an Italian cheese, produced in a city of a specific region of the North. You can translate the name as ‘Moena’s Stinky’, very characteristic for its very strong smell of… feet.” She pointed at one of the main dishes. “Here they make the gnocchi with a sauce made of that cheese, I thought that you might like this one. Just so you can have a nice meal in a neat place with me.”

Jim didn’t even know how to deal with this. He just took her hand again, warm and soft, looking at her amazing girlfriend with the strongest wish to let her know how much it meant to him.

“I love you so much.”

Claire held back, smiling brightly, like she knew exactly how much.

“I love you too.” Because she felt exactly the same.

#trollhunters #toa #tales of arcadia #jim lake jr #claire nunez #toby domzalski #troll jim #christmas #toa fanfiction #fanfiction #christmas fanfiction #secret santa

20 notes · View notes

warehouse13pod · 6 years

Text

Show Notes 106 "Burnout"

What’s that on your back, Agents?

This is the second, improved attempt for Tumblr users

As always, you can click here or you can click play on the embedded player below to listen to this week’s episode as you read through the show notes.

We kicked off this week talking about writing teams, because this week’s Writer Appreciation Corner focuses on the duo of Matthew Federman and Stephen Scaia. We’ll be issuing a formal correction in the podcast for 108, but I mistakenly said that writing teams were paid a full salary each. I was incorrect! And Stephen Scaia himself was kind enough to correct me!

This is important, because 1) we always want to give you the most accurate and complete information we can 2) this is not the only time or the only writing team we will be dealing as we make our way through Warehouse 13 together.

Miranda and I discussed how our podcasting partnership mirrors that of a writing team. Often it seems that we share a brain, and we’re always super supportive of each other.

Moral of the story? Get yourself a BFF like this.

We talked a little about how this episode had a darker, more X-Files-esque tone. We thought it worked really well for this episode but wasn’t sustainable in the long term, because who would want to tone down this fun energy?

We also talked a bit about how much we loved the whole team behind this episode for letting the mystery play out for us instead of relying on formulaic storytelling techniques. We liked how it showed a trust in the audience to be smart enough to follow a more complex narrative.

Leave a comment below about how you feel about these things!

Miranda pointed out the retro-futurist implications of the massive library-style card catalogue in the Warehouse 13 office.

My personal head-cannon is that they write information about new artifacts on cards and then the data automatically transfers to the digital display screens in front of each artifact in the stacks.

We mentioned that Artie and Claudia’s relationship as well as the conflict between his luddite ways and her more technology-driven approach to life gave us strong Willow-Giles vibes.

Yes, that is another Buffy the Vampire Slayer reference. #NoRegrets

After Claudia’s adorable *big reveal* of her hologram projection machine…

…Artie realizes that she’s used something called a “Bell and Howell Spectroscope.” You can find out more about that here. And you can learn about how that figures into Claudia’s hologram projector here! This whole website a great resource for all Warehouse 13 fans looking to learn a bit more about the artifacts we don’t get to talk as much about one the podcast.

In the episode, Miranda calls Claudia a necessary “fly on [Artie’s] butt” and explained that it was a reference to a Platonic philosophy. Miranda was referring to the concept of a “social gadfly.” It is the most perfect way to describe Claudia and Miranda is, as always, brilliant for thinking of the exact right term.

When Claudia smacks her hologram projector, she refers to the process as “percussive maintenance,” which is a term that anybody who lived through the 1990s and early 2000s would consider quite useful. (We all did this all the time)

Even though Artie didn’t acknowledge Claudia’s brilliance as she deserved, Claudia didn’t let it get her down! Listeners and readers, my wish for us all is that we have the confidence of Claudia! Let us not depend on others for external validation, but be kind enough to ourselves to recognize our own strengths.

(But also, don’t be Artie. When someone does something great, let them know! Everyone like compliments!)

Regarding another turn of phrase, we mention that Claudia says she “upgraded the whole megillah.” Here’s some information about that phrase here and more information about what the megillah is here and here.

Claudia realizes that the tattoo on the body of the as-yet unnamed warehouse agent is a marine symbol, but I’m not sure we get a super clear view of it. So here’s an image of what that symbol looks like.

Moving forward, we talked about the cool luggage carousel-like thing and how that brought up some major Star Trek: The Next Generation vibes.

Specifically mentioned the Holodeck and Moriarty.

We talk about Rebecca being amazing by offering Pete some cookies and we get this great pop of emotional brightness when Pete takes all the cookies!!!! One of the best moments of the whole episode.

Miranda used her amazing brain to highlight the amazing items on Artie and Claudia’s brainstorming board. The items are listed below and hyperlinked to more information about what they are/might be:

Babylonian Battery (wikipedia info here)

Teller’s Microfusion Reactor - Likely an artifact that they were brainstorming might exist based on the life and works of Edward Teller.

The Dayton Project

Gilbert’s Headstone Amber - This one took some digging to figure out! So, William Gilbert was 16th century physician, philosopher, and physicist (say that five times fast!) who is one of the people who invented the term electricity, and he used amber both as in his physical research into electricity but also as a metaphor for electric attraction. Whoever wrote that item on the chalkboard is a genius who really does their research!

Thunderer of the Nite—now I can’t see miranda’s notes, so it could have said “nite,” but I couldn’t find anything about that. What I could find was information about something called Thunderer of the Nile.

Magnetohydrodynamic Generator

Faraday

(this one reminds me of Fringe and all the Faraday cages)

ELF transmitted through Kennedy HH… (we couldn’t get the whole item there)—ELF likely refers to Extremely Low Frequency but I have no idea about the second part.

…and last but not least, the Egg of Columbus! Why did I save this one for last? Well, because I think it’s the funniest. Also, because there are three possible answers. The most likely answer is Tesla’s Egg of Columbus. But I talked with friend-of-the-show Tobie James, and she shared two other fun things that could be described as “Eggs of Columbus.” The first is the actual egg mentioned in the story of the previous link, and the second refers to puzzles of both the tangram and mechanical variety.

Thanks to Miranda and her amazing brain for capturing this list so we could ogle at the brilliance of whoever in the Art Department is responsible for this amazing and detailed background imagery. Thanks for being our Artie/Watcher, Miranda.

Yes, that is another Buffy reference! #TakeAShotEveryTimeWeReferenceBuffy #YoudBeVeryDrunk

After this, we figure out that this is called the “Spine of Saracen.” And we would like to wholeheartedly thank our amazing Expert of the Week, Dr. Suleiman Ali Mourad. He illuminated a lot of information about the term Saracen and its Crusade-age origins.

Dipping into some ~heavy themes~

Please be mindful of how you use the term “Saracen” in daily life. If you’re unsure of how to use it, don’t use it at all. Dr. Suleiman referred to the fact that it’s not always a negative term, but it can be as offensive as the N-word. Personally, I wouldn’t use it to refer to anything other than Matt Saracen of Friday Night Lights. (But seriously, though. Please don’t use the word if you’re at all concerned it could be misconstrued as offensive.)

Anyway, we talk a little bit with him and with each other about how the Islamic Golden Age flourished years before the European Renaissance. It didn’t make the final cut of the episode, but we talked a little bit about how the fall of the Eastern Roman Empire (Byzantium) led to Eastern nations of the ancient world inheriting the important cultural works of the Greco-Roman Empire—which meant inheriting the words of Galen, the originator of most medical and nutritional knowledge in the world until the modern era. We’re talking the dominant source of knowledge for literally thousands of years. So, while the nations flourishing the the Islamic Golden Age advanced medical knowledge, Western Europe lost most of that knowledge and was plunged into the Dark Ages. You can learn more about this from a source we referenced in our 101A and B Show Notes, Food: A Cultural Culinary History by Dr. Ken Albala. More purchase options linked in the 101 A and B Show notes linked above.

Dr. Mourad talked about how this Islamic Golden Age was heavily tied to the Translation Movement in the Islamic Civilization of the age. This is a fascinating subject that I did not know about before Miranda spoke with Dr. Mourad.

That’s what I have for this week.

Hope you’re buzzed for the next ep, Agents.

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jobinterviewghost · 4 years

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Career-changing ex-teacher turns tiny cafe into award-winning mega business - ABC News

Opening a small cafe with coffee and some sandwiches was her husband's dream, not Toni Vorenas's.

"[But] before we opened, he actually decided that wasn't his dream anymore," Ms Vorenas said.

"Because he'd supported me a lot throughout my teaching career and my studies, I thought in return I would run the cafe for 12 months for him."

Without meaning to, 12 months has turned into 12 years and a two-site award-winning bakery and cafe serving 150 customers from two commercial kitchens, a bar and function room.

Determined to find purpose in a corporate world, the former deputy principal has devoted her business to employing and empowering people from a wide mix of backgrounds and credits that diversity to Metro's success.

'You'll never work in a place like it'

Each staff member has their own story of finding Metro, or Toni finding them.

Transgender man Toby Harrap walked right up to Toni and asked for a job after visiting a friend for a coffee.

"It was very much to do with the type of staff Toni had," Mr Harrap said.

"It was LGBTQ, it was people with tattoos and alternative dress styles, people could just be themselves.

"[Many] of us at some point or another have felt like outcasts and Toni just takes us into her arms."

Ms Vorenas insists her drive for diversity is not to be "hippie". When it comes to hiring, she looks for one thing.

"For me, it's really important that they love people. That's the most important thing. You can't fake it … they have to genuinely like people," Ms Vorenas said.

"You can train skills; you cannot train attitude."

As a result, Ms Vorenas's staff come from all different backgrounds and perspectives.

There is no uniform for staff. Instead Ms Vorenas prefers her staff to be able to express themselves.

"We're not all one homogenous group and our customers certainly aren't all one homogeneous group," Ms Vorenas said.

"They don't wear [that diversity] as any badge of honour. They just see it as, 'This is how it is'.

"It's different perspectives on life, it's not just sexuality or gender … it's how you see the world."

That mix means it is "not all roses either", she said.

"The more diverse a staff you put together the more yin and yang and push and pull you're going to have, but that's healthy conflict," Ms Veronas said.

"We have lots of cultural differences as well … that we have to learn to appreciate and accept and work around."

Allowing her staff to express themselves

When Mr Harrap told Toni Vorenas he was going to start gender transitioning, he was terrified he would lose his job.

"I was freaking out and she said, 'Well, does that stop you from being able to do your job?'" Mr Harrap said.

"It's a shame that a lot of us feel the need to hide things about ourselves … that's not something you have to worry about with Toni as your boss."

Now living in Queensland, the 28-year-old has not forgotten that conversation.

"Toni set the bar really high for how I should be treated as a person in employment," Mr Harrap said.

Ms Veronas remembers that conversation with Toby clearly. She has had a lot of tough conversations with her many staff over the years.

Front-of-house worker Sammi Cummins describes it as a "sixth sense".

The young mum had been made redundant for the second time when she worked up the courage to visit her ex-English teacher in 2014.

"I saw Toni and told her what had happened and I just looked at her … she's got like a sixth sense of knowing what's coming next," Ms Cummins said.

"She said, 'You can start on Monday' … no questions asked. She just wanted to help."

Creating community

Ms Cummins said that melting pot made for a special working environment.

"There's just something about it, we refer to it as Kefi," Ms Cummins said.

Every staff member knows it, even the ones that do not work there anymore.

"It's a feeling, it's a Greek term, it's when you walk in somewhere and you just know you're welcome, you're safe. It's got a beautiful energy to it," Mr Harrap said.

"You'll never work in a place like it … it's got its own heartbeat. You've got to learn a new rhythm, a whole new language," Ms Cummins said.

"It keeps you there. It keeps you there even when you're ready to leave."

After nearly seven years, Sammi Cummins is preparing to leave Metro to focus on her own massage therapy business.

She has worked regularly in her final weeks at the cafe to avoid the "umbilical cord shift".

"All the staff that move on, they just hold onto one shift, one shift a week, until they're ready to cut the cord and leave," Ms Cummins said.

"I think that's got a lot to do with the place itself but also feeling grown up enough to leave Toni's wing.

"Mama Toni, we call her, Mama bear. Leaving her is a big deal."

Empowering staff

While making her staff feel safe and accepted is important to Ms Vorenas, so is encouraging them to take risks.

Whether that is going through a gender transition while continuing to work at the cafe or sampling a new item on the menu.

"I always say to them, 'What's the worst that can happen? What's the absolute worst that can happen?'" Ms Vorenas said.

"We totally see that transformation from lacking in confidence … and then being able to emerge and hold your own space and to be confident in your space and who you are."

It is a highlight of Toni Vorenas's business career, something she was not sure she could carry over from her 30-year teaching career.

"I'll be honest there was a bit of time there where it just felt soul-destroying, it was just numbers and balancing," Ms Vorenas said.

"There was a point where I was like, 'What am I doing that has value, that has purpose, that's important?'"

She missed the transformative power of teaching, being able to instil confidence and a sense of self-respect in young people's lives.

"What I loved about teaching is that you're always dealing with hope. Kids are so resilient and they're so hopeful for the future," Ms Vorenas said.

"And I like working with disadvantaged kids … kids that maybe sat on the fringe or were marginalised a bit.

"Then I figured I could pretty well do that same thing here or at least had to have some of that met.

"Then it became less soul-destroying."

Many of Ms Vorenas's staff have gone on to other careers and started their own businesses, some of them successful cafes and restaurants in Mount Gambier.

"The reason Metro does so well is not only because she's inclusive of everyone in her staff [but] she cares about every one of the customers," Mr Harrap said.

"It's such to her own detriment, there are times where I've been over for dinner and she's exhausted, she's had so much going on and she hasn't taken a break for herself.

"She's much better at [it] now, but a few years ago she was so busy trying to look after the whole town.

"She's got the biggest heart I've ever seen on a person."

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btsdarling · 7 years

Text

Come What May - Prologue

Summary: RichKid!AU w/ BTS. With a long history of business, the Dumont family is going international and has made the move to Seoul, South Korea. However, is everything is as it seems from outside, on the inside? Following Dani and her wild journey with a rather rambunctious group of boys and a broken family, will she succeed in both love and business? We shall see. Italics: spoken Korean Word Count: 996

Standing in front of my mirror, I was feeling a bit disdainful at my school uniform. I gazed at myself from head to toe, just scrutinizing everything about my appearance. Why do I care what those kids think of when they see me?

I have pretty plain features: coffee coloured hair that’s too straight and fine for my liking, eyes that are the shade of dark chocolate, a small yet square face shape, a nose that’s probably considered a bit big by Korean beauty standards, and small but full lips. Whatever, I’m not Korean so I don’t have to fit their beauty standards.

I started scratching at where my white dress shirt came into contact with my neck. It’s not the first time that I’ve worn a uniform for school, but you’d think that since it’s an expensive school, their uniforms would at least be comfortable. Oh well.

I was broken out of my thoughts when someone barged into my room.

“Baby girl, come on! We gotta get going, or else we’ll be late. Well, I mean, not really but we gotta make a good impression on these kids, at least,” my youngest brother rambled on about how we needed to make good impressions. As if he thinks that I’m stupid as to what the school environment in Korea is like. Especially in the expensive schools.

“I know, Damien. I’m just about ready,” I lied. I didn’t want to admit that I have actually been ready half an hour ago; I was just too caught up in my thoughts about my new school and my future responsibilities to my father’s company.

I grabbed my school bag that was resting on top of my four-post bed, and we made our way to the foyer.

“Looks like the princess finally decided to come out of her room,” my second eldest brother teased. I took a quick scope of my brothers; they were all donning on our new school’s uniform, navy blue blazer and with pants to match.

“Let’s just get going, yeah?” I motioned to my brothers to head out the door. One by one, they all walked out and made their way to their individual vehicles and personal drivers. My twin, however, stood by my side for a bit. It’s probably a twin thing, but I knew that he knew what I was thinking.

“It’ll be fine, it’s not like it’s the first new school that we’ve been transferred to internationally,” he spoke calmly. He only spoke softly to me when he knew that I was feeling anxious, since he was usually more of an abrasive person. But not towards his siblings; we were an exception. Most of the time, anyway.

“I’m not worried about school, at least we’ll know when someone talks shit about us to our face,” I said in a bored tone.

He was only quiet for a second then, “What did Father say?”

I quickly mulled over whether I should lie, tell him half the truth or all of it. I went with the second: “He just wants to go over the details of when I turn eighteen. You know, all the legal documents and shit.”

“You’d think your vocabulary would be more diverse, considering your background,” Tobi jested at me.

I could care less of my brother’s quips; I’ve learned to ignore all of them over the years. “In case you’re forgetting, we come from the same background. Let’s get going.”

Walking towards my personal driver, I politely bid him good morning. “Good morning, young mistress. I’ve had the servants pack you some breakfast and some coffee to go. Cream and sugar, just how you like it,” Jung-hoon stated professionally.

“Thank you, Jung-hoon. I don’t know what I would do without you,” I joked.

“Neither do I, young mistress,” Jung-hoon teased in a polite manner.

I stepped into the vehicle, and just as I sat down, my phone started to ring. I looked at the caller ID and rolled my eyes; in bold, the word FATHER appeared. I answered at the third ring just to annoy him, seeing as how he did not like to be kept waiting.

“Yes, Father,” I replied unexcitedly.

“Why you did you answer so slowly? Never mind, I need you to come to the company before you go to school. I’ll notify your teachers that you will be late due to family reasons,” my father stated.

“Yes Father, and good morning to you too,” I hung up.

Taking a deep breath, I rolled down the partition separating Jung-hoon and I.

“Ahjussi, drop me off at the company. Father requested for my presence,” I ordered Jung-hoon.

“Yes, young mistress,” he replied.

I then proceeded to text my brothers in our group chat as we pulled out of the driveway. If you could even call it a driveway, it looked more like the size of a fricking airstrip.

Dani: I’ll be at school later. Father called for me to come to the company. See you bitches in a few.

Caleb: Always the classy one. Good luck with Father, tell him his beloved sons bid him good morning.

Damien: Oooooh, someone’s in trouble.

Trent: Beloved sons, my ass.

Julian: *seen*

Tobi: *seen*

I put my phone away and looked out the window, watching the many buildings that we were driving by. One of the reasons that I loved moving to a new country was getting to see and explore a whole new place.

I looked at the bag the maids had packed my breakfast. Suddenly, I lost my appetite and went for my coffee instead. Taking a swig of the delicious warm liquid that was made from the gods, I got lost in my thoughts once again.

I guess Father wants to introduce me to the company workers. But did he really have to do it on the day that I start school? Oh well, just got to let Father do what he wants do to until I’m considered “ready.”

This is something that I’ve had in my drafts for quite some time now, and I’ve just had the courage to finally post it. It’s a pretty short chapter, but this is just an intro, and the upcoming ones will be longer. Let me know if you guys enjoy it and if you want more, responses are greatly appreciated. Until the next (hopefully soon!) update✌🏼

#come what may fic #kpop scenarios #bts scenario #jin scenarios #seokjin scenarios #suga scenarios #yoongi scenarios #j-hope scenarios #hoseok scenarios #rapmonster scenarios #namjoon scenarios #v scenarios #taehyung scenarios #jungkook scenarios

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dynamics-of-an-asteroid · 7 years

Note

I really would like to know your opinion about Sherlolly and Molliarty 💕

My opinion on Sherlolly grew as my opinions on fandom politics thankfully matured cause it’s really easy to make assumptions about M/F ships since typically they’re filled with everything Progressive Fandom supposedly hates.

But what I’ve come to realize is that Progressive Fandom is kind of full of shit.

It says one thing (“we want better material for this female character!”), but then proceeds to do the complete opposite (takes a male background character with exceedingly less material and creates mountains of fanworks to the point where even the creators start giving him more screen time over the female character). It’ll come up with all these tl;dr think pieces that seek to blame some other outside sources as to why this keeps happening (“men are just written better!”, “there’s just more male characters to choose from statistically!”, etc.), but there’s really no denying which types of ships and characters and dynamics and narratives it actually values when you see what kind of content dominates creative spaces that no one is controlling except the fans.

So I realized a lot of my “concerns” were just the result of theoretically wanting the most subversive conceptualization for the ship as any good Progressive Fandom member prides itself on seeking, but then falling in to the same traps that reinforce a very biased hierarchy Progressive Fandom measures everything by and upholding ridiculous standards that I wasn’t holding everyone else to.

For example, I’ve done the typical “pOoR mOlLy :(( sHE dEseRveS bEttEr tHaN sHerLOcK” spiel everyone seems to say after watching ASIB since that scene is meant to elicit a reaction. She very clearly was in love with him and particularly series 1 & 2 Sherlock, despite whatever good he was doing or moments of ~humanity~ he had, was overall a pretty rude, abrasive dick. He wasn’t this way just to her, but Molly is a legitimately decent person on a show full of assholes so there was some part of me that wanted to protect that, you know?

However, my reaction shouldn’t have been “Wow, Molly deserves better than Sherlock”, it should have been “Molly deserved better from Sherlock because she deserves common fucking decency.” Her unwavering love for him is always considered a problem that needs to be either removed entirely or given to someone else more deserving. It’s never Sherlock’s behavior that’s the problem that needs to get checked because Progressive Fandom doesn’t typically criticize male characters for their actions. You excuse, you explain, you apologize, but you don’t with any kind of negative intention seek to frame their reaction in any given situation as the part that’s wrong. The feelings of white dudes are valued over everything and everyone.

So my reaction of “come on, Molly, let’s get out of here and find you someone better” sounds noble, but all I’m really saying is “Well he’s an ass and we can’t do anything about that, but your crush on him is definitely fixable!” Again, she’s not the problem here, her love for him is not the problem here. He is the problem here, his rudeness is the problem here. There’s absolutely something we can do to fix that and we know this because part of his character arc was about becoming warmer and kinder. “Molly deserves better” is such an empty, meaningless statement when you really get in to it and I cringe every time I see it now.

Plus, something I’ve noticed that seems to be exclusive to the ship is most people in fandom ship one of these characters with Sherlock or are invested in a dynamic that includes him in it. And I guarantee you there’s a scene or a moment or a line that Sherlock was the source of that you had to go fix with fic or meta or some AU gif set or something because you wouldn’t still care about it if you didn’t. He’s done some pretty horrendous shit to these characters that far surpasses what he did with Molly at the Christmas party. But we’re not saying poor John he deserves better (hell we’re not even saying poor Sherlock he deserves better), we’re not saying poor Mycroft he deserves better, or that poor little Lestrade deserves better. It’s always poor Molly, specifically, because Progressive Fandom isn’t about to micro-comb through her material like they do with male characters in order to flesh her out more and find ways to make her a person of equally nuanced value to Sherlock. Then it would be easier to see why he’d extend more than just common courtesy to her, which lays the foundation for potentialness (specifically romance cause no one is gonna flip their shit about friendship), and now you’re sighing in agony about having to deal with a love interest - and worst of all - yet another M/F ship existing.

And listen, I get it - M/F ships have everything and it’s obnoxious. They get the coveted title of being “most likely to happen”, they get all the exposure, all the juicy arcs, all the cast conversations when it comes to their expressions of sex and love and romance being treated as completely plausible and entirely normal, etc. But when Progressive Fandom notoriously doesn’t produce nor consume F/F media let alone at the same rates as M/M media, when Progressive Fandom deeming a female character “too awesome/independent for romance” is basically a death sentence in spaces where romance and pairing up characters is the name of the game - what are people supposed to do with Molly that doesn’t decrease her visibility or sideline her entirely in the name of what? Making sure heteronormativity doesn’t happen? Cause looking at tumblr’s most popular M/M ships that are full of exceedingly harmful gendered stereotypes about the characters then being further conceptualized in to gross top/bottom discourse among other issues, that pesky problem of not reinforcing heteronormativity shouldn’t fall solely on M/F ships cause they’re not the only ones perpetuating it.

From what I can tell, Sherlolly shippers are the only people placing her in multiple kinds of dynamics and narratives that seek to explore the depth of her character without treating all of her material with Sherlock like a joke or a predicament that must be changed (which is different from fixing some bumps or gaps or straight up missteps that may be present, and there are some, but no one is denying that). Sometimes it’s a reversal of expectations, sometimes it’s not, and that’s pretty standard summary of any ship in fandom, really. You don’t have to like what they’re doing, but the door is always open for these diverse, inclusive stories Progressive Fandom wants so badly to be brought to the table yet I get the feeling they won’t be walking through it any time soon.

so tl;dr - the ship isn’t bothering me and any faux-criticisms I had about it in the past I can easily say about other ships, including my own, so it’s not fair to condemn one but then bolster another with the same elements. As long as they aren’t engaging in anything harmful or pushing any Ists, Isms, and Phobias, which they aren’t, I’m cool.

And I’m not even gonna lie, I could not stand Molliarty in the beginning stages of fandom.

I hated how Jim from I.T. was treated as a separate person from Jim Moriarty just to give Molly a cuter and more fun version of him to continue dating (to be fair, this ship isn’t the only one that did this, [don’t even get me started on the Richard Brook\twin thing omfg], but I loathed this trend regardless of who did it more cause particularly with Jim everyone would always push the ‘we don’t know anything about his private life!!’ excuse to justify wildly ooc shit [and still do to this day]).

I hated that narrative of Molly ~softening~ monstrous beast!Jim with her kindness and in return he became obsessed with having her love him, but she couldn’t cause he’s a bad person or whatever, so he’d protect her until his dying days instead (I recognize the trope, I personally can’t stand that trope, but I still don’t understand why it was applied to this dynamic).

I hated all the creepy undertones in a lot of the really early fanworks that were like “come with me little girl and you’ll never be hurt again” (look, MY ships are capable of creepy undertones, but particularly with this ship it felt more like an impending sense of doom that Molly was getting herself in to a really skeevy, fucked p situation which is gross).

I hated with a goddamn passion that still consumes me to this day that Little Red Riding Hood/Big Bad Wolf aesthetic cause it’s just piggybacking off what I just said of this lecherous devil ready to devour this unsuspecting and naive victim (as you can imagine I don’t like imbalanced dynamics so a lot of this one is just personal irritation too, but it still feels like you’re having to compromise their characters by bastardizing the shit out of them in order to get this to work).

I hated how Jim was treated like her sassy gay best friend who’d stay up at night watching Say Yes To The Dress with her and Toby, and gushing about cute boys when someone did a more platonic bff take on the ship (this was the biggest one for me because Andrew was walking a fine enough line as it was with Jim to not have everyone go ahead and throw his character into stereotype hell anyway and I hate most fanworks with Jim for this very reason, so again this problem isn’t exclusive to the ship).

And I hated how Molly tapping in to her inner darkness thanks to Jim awakening it somehow always took the form of her becoming sadistic and murderous to illustrate how strong she really is in an effort to put her on even footing with him so she’d get the love and respect and appreciation she wasn’t getting else where through being his faithful killing babe (besides having problems with women having to become badass and bloodthirsty in order to equal strength of any kind, the implication she can only be treated right through bad people is unsettling).

After making that list, I realized a lot of why I couldn’t stand it was tied to general misinterpretations of their characters that was floating around fandom, so putting those specific versions of them together to make a ship out of it was unforgivable to me. I’m gonna make an assumption here and say I’m willing to bet a lot of their earlier stuff wasn’t made by the shippers themselves and that it was people from other ships making material for it based off what they thought it was. So for all I know a lot of what I hated wasn’t even what the ship was about cause I know that’s the case for old stuff about my ships. None of us really had the numbers to change public opinion about how we perceived it, so there’s a lot of lingering misconceptions thanks to those works and I might have just listed all of them for Molliarty, I don’t know.

But a lot of this seems to have gone away now in any case? Not all of it, but it’s been replaced with lighter, more comical material which is still not the ballpark I’d personally place them in, but I’m not in that inner circle of shipping so I don’t know why it took that turn. They could be trying to counter fanon ideas surrounding the pairing, they could be trying to build up a more diverse selection of fanworks, I have no idea, but the ship doesn’t bother me in the same way it use to mostly because I’ve become too indfferent for most ships to even get a reaction from me anymore tbh

#this came out longer than expected #apologies if this somehow ends up in the mobile tag

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topazshadowwolf · 7 years

Text

The Door (Chapter 9)

An Undertale Fanfiction by: Topaz Shadowwolf Undertale is owned by: Toby Fox Setting: Post neutral run when Papyrus dies with chapter intros being before the child fell. Relationships: Sans and Toriel is the main focus, with a little bit of Undyne and Alphys Rating: I’m thinking Teen? Heads up: There is some depressed thoughts, feelings of worthlessness/wanting to die, mention of major character death, and the occasional bad word. Oh, and flowey being flowey, so you know, psychological/physical trauma. I really don’t want to say much more since I really don’t want to spoil anything further down the road…

You can read it on AO3! Here is Ch 8 Ch 7 Ch 6 Ch 5 Ch 4 Ch 3, Ch 2, and Ch 1 on Tumbler.

Random thoughts from the writer about this chapter: I’m going to be honest here. It still amazes me each time someone says they like this story. Growing up, I always had stories in my head, but I was a horrible writer. Even though I tried to write, I never could really put a sentence together. So, the pure notion that I can write something that people can understand AND enjoy floors me. ...In other words, thanks…

The Door

Chapter 9: Don’t be so koi~

“Sounds to me your brother has a good friend in her,” Toriel said after listening to another story about Papyrus and his rambunctious companion, Undyne.

“that’s true,” her friend, on the other side of the door, said with a laugh, “you’d think the two were siblings the way they behave. though, i’d bet she feels lucky they aren’t.”

Toriel tilted her head, “Why do you say that?”

“heh, well, i’d be her brother as well,” there was a humor to his voice, as if it were a punchline to a joke; one that she didn’t like.

“My dear friend,” she frowned, “I’m sure she’d be happy to have you as a sibling.”

There was a laugh, “naw, lady, i already disappoint her enough as a sentry. last thing she needs is me disappointing her as a brother.” He then said in a calmer tone, “besides, she’s my bro’s best friend, no need for me to go budding into their relationship.”

That made Toriel giggle and she decided to drop it. “What about you?” Toriel asked, then added, “you've mentioned having buddies at Grillby’s before. What about best friends?”

“that’d be you,” he answered without hesitation.

That wasn't a reply she was expecting. When he mentioned the people he knew in town, through work, and various other means, she figured he’d have a lot of friends, and several best friends. “Oh,” she didn't know what to say.

“well,” he started back peddling, “i have friends, i guess, just, uh, you’re really it for best friends…” he trailed off.

“That’s alright,” she said, “I don’t have any friends on this side of the door.”

There was silence from him, and she pressed her head against the door, listening. Inadvertently, she just that confessed her life of isolation while trying to comfort him. Her magic twisted in knots of fear, worried about what her friend might think.

“But, it is alright, I have my books and daily chores to keep me occupied,” she paused when she noticed her voice sounded strained. With effort, she forced the lump in her throat down. This was no time to be getting choked up, she had to stay focused. With a calmer tone she finished, “and you, also.”

How weak did that sound? Clearly, he would think the only reason she asked for him to come back was because she felt so, painfully, lonely. Truth be told, she had no tolerance for monsters she didn’t like, lonely or not; and, she genuinely liked this pun pal. He wasn't just a diversion from isolation, but an important person in her life.

A deep chuckle filtered in through the door, “well, even with everyone around i feel lonely. not everyone appreciates our brand of humor, y’know? so, uh, if you want, i can try carving out some more time to come visit you from my ‘oh so busy schedule.’”

Closing her eyes, she felt warm tears weave their way through her fur. She appreciated that he didn't make this about her, yet, felt guilty that he had the need to spare her feelings. After how she acted to all the other monsters around her, she didn't deserve a friend like him. A friend who would stomp down his own self pride for the sake of hers. Granted, she wasn’t happy with how often he did talk ill of himself. “You don’t need to do that. If I really wanted to end this isolation, I could leave the ruins,” she heard her voice shake, and knew he would too.

There was another pause for him, and she heard him shift in the snow, “mind if i ask why you haven’t?”

This was bound to come up, and she had to answer him. But she didn’t want to tell him the whole truth of the matter. At least, she wasn’t ready to tell him. She didn’t really want to tell anyone. Previously, she was happy with the idea of fading into obscurity. But now she had someone, other than Asgore, who would miss her.

With the thought of Asgore, she knew she still wanted to stay hidden from her ex. She’d skip over the details and just tell friend what he wanted to know in the vaguest way she can. Besides, it is not like he has not done the same to her.

With her mind made, she says flatly, “I made a decision a while ago, and I am sticking to it. I will not let myself be swayed.”

“fair enough,” he said, and she was happy he didn’t ask any more from her on this. Instead he moved on in the conversation, “anyway, lady, even if we just sit here, saying nothing to each other, that would be more enjoyable than being around people i don't really know. i will, though, say that some days i will be hanging out with a science pal of mine.”

“Oh?” She thought that over while wiping the tears from her fur. “I figured you had to have an interest in some fields of science from some of your jokes and puns.”

“heh, yup, though, i, uh, never really pursued it… just have a small hobby lab, nothing interesting.”

Generally, when they chat, he is more interested in talking about his brother. What rare gems of facts he gives about himself she stored away in her memory. She can use this information for future jokes or conversation. Excited, she decided to see if she could get him to share anything else. “What do you work on in your lab?”

He was silent again. Toriel should have known, he didn't like talking about himself, at least not in a positive manner. It was rude of her to press for more information. After all, he didn’t push her to speak when he knew she wouldn’t want to. Why could she not show him the same courtesy? Had she forgotten her manners, or even how to be around others?

She was about to apologize and change the subject when he said with a sigh, “just some science fiction crap that doesn't work.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” she then added, “I commend your efforts. It can’t be easy to try such things.”

He offered up one of his empty chuckles, the ones that just sound wrong to her. “No worries, lady, not sure I want it to work anyway. But, uh, thanks...”

“sup, grillbz,” Sans said. After he picked up some groceries he took a shortcut into the bar and grill. Errands done, he took the chance to make the stop, deciding to stay an hour.

The owner looked up and nodded at him in acknowledgment. On such a blank face, emotions are hard to read, but the bartender seemed pleased to see the skeleton. Sans made his way to the counter, then set down the couple of bags he was carrying beside his usual stool. With well-practiced ease, he climbed up on the stool and relaxed, soaking in the atmosphere of this place. It was nowhere near as nice as Tori’s, but still, he missed it. The orange and brown colors, the background noise, the general warmth, and the smell of greasy goodness were all so nostalgic to him.

“.........Hello Sans……… what can I get you?…….” popped Grillby.

“heh, right to the point, huh?” Sans chuckled then nodded, “fries, thanks for asking.”

The fire elemental walked to the door, that lead to the kitchen, and disappeared for a brief time before returning with food in hand. He gave Sans the freshly prepared fries and a bottle of ketchup. After applying a liberal amount of ketchup to the fries Sans, tipped his head back and downed the rest. Without even asking for another, Grillby placed another bottle before taking the emptied one.

“thanks,” Sans said. He grabbed a ketchup ladened fry and started to eat, “tori’s cooking is good, but I do miss the grease.”

“.........I’ll make sure not to tell her that…….” Grillby said with a crackling chuckle, “.........anyway, I am well……… You?.........”

“doing good, actually,” Sans looked down, grabbing another fry, “life in the ruins is nice, enjoyable. it’s, well, quiet, peaceful. i’ve been able to just… relax, which i like. perhaps a bit too much, but it feels different than what i’m used to, for even this town. not much goes on, so at times i find myself curious about what’s going on in the world. i’m used to hearing about everything going on down here from the sentry stations and hotdog stand.”

Grillby picked up a glass to shine, even though it already looked clean. Sans just figured it was because the elemental felt the need to do something when working. Fire is a very active element; and even though Grillby is very ‘chill,’ he does seem fidgety at times of stillness. As he polished the glass he nodded, understandingly.

“grillby, something up,” Sans looked at the elemental. Flames are hard to read, especially one as steady as the bartender. Still, that never deterred Sans from trying, and, occasionally, catching some subtle, but telling, body language. It took practice, timelines of practice to pick up what he has learned about Grillby.

“for example, you used to open first thing in the morning and stay open until late,” for a second, Grillby paused in his polishing. For anyone else, that would be easy to overlook. For Grillby, though, that meant Sans was on the right track.

Sans picked up another fry, watching a glob of ketchup fall from it and onto the other fries below. “it’s also pretty quiet in here, compared to normal for this time of day,” Sans said, then ate the fry. He didn’t bother looking at Grillby this time. The bartenders continued silence was all he needed.

Grillby set down a glass with a soft click as it touched the other clean glasses. “....................Undyne, ........................ is training everyone for war, if you must know…………….”

“everyone?” Sans looked up, then grinned, “even jerry?”

Sparks drifted from Grillby as he made a sizzling like sound, his version of an exasperated sigh, “.................. yes………….”

That thought alone caused Sans to snicker, “well, good luck with that. i’m sure nothing will strike more fear in the hearts of humans than an army of woshuas.”

Grillby crackled softly as he picked up another glass, “.................... changing subjects, I’m guessing things have progressed with Toriel……………….. New clothes……… and she clearly has influenced you……………”

That made Sans pause, and he looked at Grillby, “what makes you say that?”

“................ I’ve never seen you be so careful when eating…………….”

With that said, Sans’s attention was to how he had been eating. Sans noticed that he had been holding a fry while watching and waiting for a glob of ketchup to fall. In the past, he wouldn’t have waited. Without a care, he would eat and let the globs fall wherever they were on the way to his mouth. When there was a good chance a reset could happen, why worry about something like stains? There would be a 50% chance that they never even happened, anyway.

Now, he was wearing a new, unstained, shirt Toriel bought him. And there weren’t any resets to fix any mistakes, any stains are there 100% of the time. Also, even if he knew she wouldn’t say anything if he got it dirty, there would be that look of disappointment on Toriel’s face. It wasn’t a look he liked.

“huh, guess i’m trainable,” Sans shrugged.

“........ I believe the term traditional used is…….. whipped……..,” the elemental said, with the smugness that he used when he teased patrons he knew well.

Startled, Sans looked at Grillby who was now crackling away in laughter. “ah, come on, grillby!” That just made Grillby laugh harder, so Sans shook his head. With a resigned sigh, he said, “i’d say that was cold hearted, but right now i’m more worried about getting some ice for that burn.”

“......... watch it, I’ve got more………” Fire and ice puns get under Grillby’s nonexistent skin, which makes them a painless way to distract the elemental.

“same here, friend,” Sans grinned, as if he accepted the challenge, “besides, you started it.”

At that Grillby shook his head, surrendering before the onslaught of puns could begin. Sans shrugged and opted out of rubbing Grillby’s nonexistent nose in this minor victory. The two fell silent, Sans enjoying his fries while Grillby continued working.

A soft jingle from the bell over the door hinted someone else had arrived. Sans heard footsteps, and thought nothing of it, other than making sure he was set so Grillby to attend to the new customers. But it was the sound of an angry crackle from Grillby that caught his attention. Looking at the barkeep, Sans wondered what was upsetting the elemental.

“grillbz?” Sans started to turn left to see what was going on. A hand grabbed his right arm, under the wrist, the owner of it just out of his view. The person who grabbed him jerked hard, forcing him to turn right while he was pulled off his stool. Wincing, Sans’s shoulder protested this kind of treatment with a wave of pain, “h-hey!”

Thoroughly confused about what was going on, he looked up to see Undyne staring down at him. Shocked, he was about to speak before Undyne lifted him up by his arm. Pain traveled down the limb and into his shoulder, causing a small wave a panic to cloud his thoughts. He only had one HP and someone was threatening him; he couldn’t run or take a shortcut with the way he was held. To say that this was far from an ideal situation would be an understatement. This was more akin to the nightmares that plagued him of moments before he died. Right eye closed as he clinched his teeth tight, trying, and failing, to calm his nerves.

Desperate to find some relief, he reached up with his left hand and tried to grab for Undyne’s arm, but he could only grab his own. At least like this his right shoulder was no longer under so much stress, though it did nothing for his and forearm. He could only hope she didn't chose to tighten her grip, unsure how much more his ulna could take.

Of all the times he had spent time with Undyne, or seen her with his brother, he never once thought she would do something like this.

She snarled down at him, “Sans the Skeleton, you are under arrest for aiding and abetting a wanted criminal, and being an accessory in the murder of the King and a sentry.”

“you’re kidding me, right?” Sans said as he glared at Undyne with his left eye. His voice tense from the pain.

“I’m not the comedian,” Undyne said darkly.

“........ I don’t appreciate you coming in here and grabbing paying customers…….” Grillby spoke up. Raising his usually quiet voice as loud as it can get; which was like that average monster’s speaking voice. It was still unusual to hear, and Sans wouldn’t have believed it could get that loud had he not heard it himself.

Undyne turned sharply to Grillby, “This is your Empresses you are talking to! And don’t think I don’t suspect you guilty of feeding the BANISHED ex-queen a few nights ago.” Distracted by the fire elemental, Sans was relieved she finally set him down. No longer feeling threatened, he tried to focus on what was said over the ache in his shoulder from nearly being pulled out of the socket.

What Undyne said shocked him, and he looked up at the fish monster. How could she suspect something like that? No one saw Toriel. He might’ve been seen by Bunny, but that was no reason to assume Toriel came with him.

Grillby’s flames danced and snapped angrily. Before the fire elemental could say anything, Sans looked at him, “s’ok, grillby…” He gave his friend a smile. It was clear Grillby wasn’t buying it, but at least he didn't do or say anything more.

Nothing about this was ‘ok,’ but he was going to fake that it was until he can find a way to make it ‘ok.’ He had to. The time of enduring until the next reset was over. And that meant no more giving up or screwing things up with the knowledge that it will all be erased. The stains remain.

He had to deal with an angry Undyne in other timelines, but it was never directed at him. There was one when it was just her and himself left, they were both wanted revenge. In that one he had helped her keep this rage in check. While, he doubted he could do that now, remembering what she was like helped. Loud, active, and sudden, like an explosion; get through it and you can finally talk to the rational side of her. In other words, no point in fighting against her now; if anything, doing so will just extend her current state of mind.

“And you,” Undyne turned her attention back to Sans, “don’t try anything either. I know about your ‘shortcuts!’ Try escaping and I’ll tear down that door to get you, and her.” An odd grin crossed her face, displaying her wickedly sharp teeth, and she narrowed her eye. “On second thought, I like that idea.”

Undyne’s grip on his arm tightened, and San’s was sure he heard his ulna creak from the stress. Out of instinctual self-preservation, he used his left hand to push her hand off. Which was a joke; as if he had the physical strength to do something like that.

To his surprise, her grip loosened. Glancing up he saw the Undyne he once knew. The one that hung out with his brother and caused so much trouble. The one who threatened to hurt him if he made one more pun while struggling not to smile. The one he had convinced himself was just his boss, when really, she was more like that odd sister he never knew he wanted.

And like that the anger returned, the Undyne he knew again buried away. Just as before, when she pulled Sans another surge of pain coursed into his already aching shoulder. When Undyne finally released Sans, he started to relax; but, he moved his arm up to his chest, holding it protectively to himself.

That freedom was short lived, as he was grabbed by two guardsmen.

“undyne, please, can’t we just talk? there’s no need for... this,” Sans said, trying to appeal to her better nature.

“Sure,” Undyne snarled, “when you’re sitting in a cell, we will have a nice friendly chat.”

One of the guardsmen placed something on the back of his neck, and the world started to become fuzzy. There was the normal tired he felt every day, and then there was this. It was like he had exhausted his magic, and barely had the energy to stand. In the back ground he heard angry yelling, but right now he didn't care. How could he when he was drifting way to somewhere that felt warm, safe, and dark.

Before he could really settle into that feeling, it faded enough to clear his thoughts. There was still the exhaustion that comes with being low on magic, but he no longer felt he was about to float away. Able to think again, he figured out why that had happened from his own knowledge. Which was then confirmed as the words from the yelling going on around began to make sense again. They used a magic inhibitor on him.

Long ago magic inhibitors were created to keep rogue monsters and human mages in line. After all, you can take away a weapon and tie someone up, but you can’t stop the use of magic unless you suppress it at the source. Asgore had ban the use of them, except on the worst of criminals, because it was considered cruel, and could be hazardous if applied incorrectly.

He felt his smile strain as his right eye socket twitched. There were so many things he wanted to say right now, but he had no idea where to start. Instead he listened to Undyne while she snapped at the idiot who put the thing on him.

Apparently, they had it set too high.

Apparently, his magic was retreating out of his body and into his soul.

Apparently, they nearly killed him.

From the corner of his eye socket, he could see Grillby’s flames were wild. And no wonder. All elementals hated these things. Inhibitors were more commonly used to keep summoned elementals under control by inexperienced summoners. He offered the elemental something that was supposed to be reassuring smile, but he doubted it looked that way in the end. The look he received in return was apologetic and frustrated. But Sans didn’t want the bartender to get in a fight. Grillby didn’t handle his magic well anymore…

Constant years of battles can do that to even the most stable of monsters.

Undyne led the group of guards, and himself, out of the restaurant and Sans glanced back at Grillby, who was literally fuming, behind the counter. That’s when he saw the bag of groceries sitting by the stool he usually sits on… Tori...

“Who’s there,” Toriel said and closed her eyes. The sharp sting of her fang, while it dug into her bottom lip, grounded her as she hoped, with all her soul and magic, to hear Sans’s voice.

“.............Toriel, it’s me, Grillby……….”

Her heart sank when she heard the whisper of a reply; all her fears from earlier bore down on her shoulders, and forced her to carry the weight. She hesitated, knowing this nightmare will be confirmed as true when she opens the door. To stave off the childish trembling she felt building up, she inhaled deeply and let her lungs fully expand till it nearly hurt. With closed eyes, she opened the door. “Come in,” She tried and failed to keep her voice from quivering as she spoke. The welling of tears burned, but she opened them and focused on her guest, “It’s too cold for someone like you to be out there so long.”

“.............Thank you……….” Grillby said. With silent concern, she watched the elemental enter through the door. For someone who always appeared to be fully of controlled, yet wild power, his flames never had been so low from fatigue. As he walked in, he tried to build them back up, but the exhaustion was plan to see. “.........Toriel, something happened………”

In the elemental’s hand was a bag of groceries; and the last of her hopes sank while a pang in her soul forced more tears in her eyes. Shivering, and face wet with the tears flowing down her face, all she could feel was fear and concern for the skeleton she loves. In the back of her mind a voice yelled that he was gone. That Sans was gone and she would never see him again. After all, that is always what happens, the ones she loves always disappear in the end.

It was unfair! How many people had to disappear from her life? In a vain attempt to ignore the negative voice, she inwardly pleaded for the best. New hope was placed on the thought that whatever force kept Sans from her was not permanent. Her eyes look back up at Grillby’s face and could see the concern he had for her.

“..........Undyne came to my restaurant and arrested Sans this afternoon……….. I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner, but I wanted to find out as much as I could…………” Grillby continued.

“It’s alright. It makes sense, it would do me no good not knowing everything possible,” she said, her voice weak, “and thank you. Please, join me upstairs, and we can talk,” Extending a hand she offered to take the bag from Grillby but he shook his head to let her know he was fine carrying it. She led him to the house, her home that now felt empty without Sans, and into the kitchen. “You can leave the bag on the counter. I’ll take care of it later,” by now her voice had more strength but a tremble was still present.

Grillby set the bag down then turned to her, he opened his arms to offer her a hug. An odd behavior for an elemental, one that he had picked up on from being around monsters for so long. She accepted, feeling a need for some form a comfort. The hug was warm and supportive, but, while it helped, she still longed for the smaller, boney, yet somehow soft hug of Sans. They then walked over to the dining room table, sat down, and she listened as Grillby recounted what happened at his business.

Once Sans finally got to his cell, in the dungeon that barely any monster alive remembered the kingdom having, everything that happened finally became real in his mind. A feeling nagged at him as he heard the click of the cell door’s lock. This didn’t really feel like Undyne. At least, not the Undyne he thought he knew. She was a “take things head on,” and “get things over with” kind of person. Delaying whatever she had planned for him was not her normal style.

Glancing around the sparse and drab surroundings, he wondered if someone else was behind this. But that notion, itself, felt ridiculous. Events can change even the most steadfast of monsters, if they hit the right notes. Perhaps Undyne has simply changed. It’s not like he hasn’t changed due to the outcomes of a timeline. Once he shook off his usual laziness to help his brother rule a kingdom. Sans also witnessed Alphys overcome her fears to become queen. So, why would it be impossible for Undyne to set aside her kindness, and start acting cruel on her own?

And yet, it bothered him; almost as much as the fact he could no longer put his hands in pockets. The gray, oversized clothes, the guards gave him, failed to have any. He felt exposed, even with the layer of cloth; though it didn’t help the neck space was stretched too wide, leaving one shoulder uncovered half the time.

Instead of fixating on the lack of pockets, he fidgeted with the already frayed hem of the shirt. He had to give the guards some credit, trying to find something to fit his short, boney, yet somehow chubby, body is not easy. Still, it felt weird wearing something he had not worn near to rags himself. It seemed thread bare in all the wrong places.

As he struggled to free his phalanges from a loose string wrapped around his joints, he wondered how long Undyne was really going to keep him here. He was already tired of whatever game she wanted to play, and just wanted to find her and get this over with. Thanks to the magic inhibitor, though, he couldn’t even try taking a shortcut to Undyne, or even Toriel’s home for some proper clothes, food, and company.

Taking a deep, calming breath, he settled his thoughts. It did him no good to stress over things he had no control over. He decided to rest and think on this later with a cooler skull.

With a sigh, he walked over to the ‘bed’ and didn’t bother pulling down the sheets before getting on it. It had been a long day, and he needed a moment to rest. As he laid down he felt something hard under the sheets; confused he sat back up. Upon further inspection of his mediocre accommodations - his bed from Snowdin offered more comfort - he noticed there was a lump. Moving the covers, he saw a wrapped gift.

That wrapping paper…

There was a tradition he started long ago. When wrapping gifts for Papyrus, all gifts from “Santa” were wrapped better than the ones from himself. But more than that, the paper used for “Santa gifts” was the same every year. It was some special, shiny snowflake paper he found a ton of at the dump long ago. By using different paper from what he labeled as from himself, it helped keep the illusion of a jolly, old, gift bringing elf alive. The very same paper wrapped around the gift that was now in his hands.

Staring at the gift, his hands trembled as his soul waffled between feeling despair and unbridled rage. At that moment, his thoughts stopped, along with the facade of breathing. He uttered no sound, yet he wasn’t completely silent as his body started to rattle a quiet plea for some sort of comfort but threatened harm on any who would dare to approach.

It wasn’t until a drop of water fell onto the gift did he realize he was crying. Expanding his rib cage, he breathed in a shaky breath before exhaling a broken sigh. His fingers rubbed over some tape, on the back, as he debated in his mind of he should open it. The thought was tempting, but he doubted he could handle any more of this mockery. Instead, he just hugged the gift to his chest and let himself fall to his side, staring at the wall across from the bed.

Time passed, and he found that the calm cyan magic, that is tied to the trait of patience, was overpowered by the thrumming demands of yellow justice. His eye sockets narrowed as his vision focused on nothing. He more than understood Undyne’s own wish for justice against himself, but this? This had gone from cruel to heartless. His left eye socket started to flare only for the inhibitor to quiet that burst of magic while giving a small, but stinging, disciplining shock.

That did not improve his mood at all, or help his magic settle. He felt it swirling around inside him like a wild beast desperate to stampede, but being held back by a strong, invisible chain. His breathing became rapid, no longer calming but added to his stress.

He hugged the gift tighter to himself and tried to settle down. As his magic relax, he allowed patience to cool his head and thoughts again. Rest… he should rest, right? He should make sure he was well rested before he talked to Undyne.

As if well rested were possible.

He will try to get what rest he can for whenever she showed up.

Toriel listened in silence, shocked by the story being recounted to her. Confused by how something like that could happen, she stared down at her paws. When the story finished, she shook her head, “H-how could they blame him for Asgore and...” She hadn't noticed when her voice drifted off, thoughts wandering off to how Sans must feel.

A warm hand on hers brought her back to the reality of the here and now. Looking up at Grillby, she could no longer see him clearly through the tears. Part of her felt bad for how much of a crying wreck she was. It was a struggle, but she offered the elemental a smile in thanks. No matter how hard she tried, the tears wouldn't stop. In fact, her efforts seemed to be making them worse.

“.................... Undyne has been angry…………. And I think she is currently just lashing out anyway she can….……. Sans is an easy target, being the brother of her dear friend……….... I spoke with Dr. Alphys…………… I convinced her that Undyne was wrong ………. the Doctor agreed to investigate this………… So far, they are not allowing anyone to see Sans…………. But hopefully an exception will be made for her…………… they seem close, those two………….. just blind to each other’s feelings…..……..”

“Will Dr. Alphys get back to you then?” Toriel asked while she struggled to smile, to show she had not lost hope. What she managed to accomplish drooped to a frown, and she covered her face with her free hand, “I am sorry…. I j-just-”

Just by shaking his head and offering a worried look, he let her know she didn’t need to apologize, “..........Alphys said she would contact me………....” She smiled back at him, taking in his reassured for now. Though, next thing he said confused her thoroughly, “......... has Sans ever mentioned anything about timelines to you?.................”

“Timelines?” Toriel thought for a moment then shook her head. “No,” she then paused, a memory in the back of her mind inching forward, but the details of it she couldn’t remember, “well, maybe, offhandedly he might have said something.”

“............ yes………….” Grillby sighed, looking away, “........................... that is a common theme around him……………………… Most likely he has told you, but you forgot…………… I don’t fully understand myself……………………… I was hoping you would be able to fill me in……………………. Because I fear it may come up……………………..”

As much as she was happy that Sans had started telling more to her, she really did wish he had said more, and sooner. The two sat in silence, as Tori allowed all of what had been said to float around in her head. So far, it had been a lot for her to adjust to, and she doubted that would be the end of it. And what would she do if Sans could not return?

Toriel decided too late to help the last human child. Will she just return to her old ways, or do something more?

“................ I would offer to explain what I know……………… but I am hoping Doctor Alphys knows more……………….. And perhaps could explain it better………………….,” Grillby finally said, “................. anyway, she has my number, and will call me when ready……………….. I’ll head back…………………….”

Toriel looked up at the elemental, the idea of being alone, after having company, terrified her. “You’re welcome to stay,” she said without thought, and she meant it. With a wave of her paw, she indicated the couch, “I can set you up out here, if you wish.”

The soft crackling of his flames was the only noise as he thought. He looked at the couch, then the room, before looking back at Toriel, “...................... Your fireplace would be more “cozy” for me…………………. If you don’t mind……………….”

A sigh of relief escaped her, but she ignored her self-embarrassment. After all, Grillby is tired, and it is too cold out in that wintery landscape for a fire elemental in his condition. Standing she shook her head, “I don’t mind at all, make yourself at home.”

Time crawled by as he sat on the inflexible surface that was supposed to be a bed. He had slipped the gift under a mostly flat object, that he figured at one time was a pillow. Even though he didn’t want to admit it, he had become spoiled by his time with Toriel. Comfy bed, clean sheets, and even the new clothes she just bought him, were all things he now missed. But more than those things, he missed her.

Sans’s eye sockets dimmed, his energy felt lower than he’d normally be with what sleep he had; all thanks to the inhibitor and how worried he was about Tori. Sans had no idea how long it had been now. His cell lacked a window to the outside artificial “daylight”, and there was nothing else that provided a sense of time. Based on everything that had happened, though, he knew this had to be the longest he’d been away from Tori since moving in with her.

It had to be late by now. Or perhaps the next morning? A food tray had been slipped under the door, but he didn't have the motivation to go over to eat. He was just so tired, and struggled to keep his eye sockets open. The only reason he fought to stay awake was the chance Undyne would come soon. His previous attempt to rest ended in his screaming out in a panic; not something he wanted Undyne seeing him do. It had been so long since he woke up screaming, the experience felt new. It took him while to get out of that panicked state and quiet down to this calmer, but on edge state of being.

These factors combined, and he started to lose hope. Not that this was new. He laughed at himself inwardly, for being a mockery of monster kind. Somehow, he has scraped by with less hope than some other monsters who have fallen down.

He wasn’t sure when his eye sockets closed as he dozed off, but he remembered them snapping back open. Images of vines, dust, blood, and bled magic still haunted his mind as he struggled to calm himself. He could hear the guard talking with someone, but couldn’t make out the words. The only thing that made sense to him at that moment is the guards talking with Undyne, who was on her way in.

Really?

Now, of all times?

Without Toriel, he was back to needing to calm himself. A task that is far easier said than done. After failing on his own, he tried to remember that melody she would hum, and the sound of her voice.

With the initial panic now sated, he took slow and easy breathes. He felt the shifting of bone against clothe as he expanded and contracted his rib cage, and focusing on the sensation of breathing. Air filtered in past his teeth, through his mouth, then somehow down along his cervical vertebrae, and finished the migration in his rib cage. The air swirled there for a moment, captured by his magic, until he released it, letting it travel back up and out. Mysteriously, his magic must have warmed it during the air’s short time in his rib cage, as it was clearly warmer on the way out.

The guard fell silent, and no one seemed to be coming after all. It was too much to hope for, he supposed. Hunkering down, his back against the wall, he sighed. His mind drifted, and he found himself lost in the absence of thought. What snapped him from that dull trance was the scraping sound of the untouched tray of “food” being taken away and replaced with a new one. His eye lights fell upon the monster, but they completely ignored him.

Staring straight ahead, he let his mind drifted back to memories from the Ruins, with Tori, where it is safe and warm. He remembered cuddling with her, smelling the scent of pie crust, cinnamon, and butterscotch that seems embedded into her silken fur. The feel of her magic, rich in integrity and rolling like wild fire that, despite the boiling heat, was always pleasant. And the feel of her arms, strong and intimidating yet kind and gentle. When she would kiss, or nuzzle him there is the mix of tickling fur and caressing fangs. Lastly, he remembered the softness of her paw pads and the light touch of her sharp but non-threatening claws.

The dualities of Toriel. Strong yet gentle. Sharp but soft. Dangerous and deadly even though he never once felt in harm's way when she held him. Leaning back against the wall, he sighed, feeling relaxed for once since he arrived.

“H-hello,” Came a small, hesitant voice, which caused him to jump.

While contemplating Toriel, he hadn’t heard the owner of the voice walk into the dungeon. Sans turned sharply to see the yellow dinosaur he knew as Alphys standing at his cell door. The lights in his eyes were out as he did, detracting from any friendly appearance he possibly had. She smiled weakly at him as she shifted nervously under his abrupt and dark gaze. He forced himself to light his eyes, feeling guilt for startling her. With effort, he stood from the bed and walk closer, “heya, alphys… sorry if I startled you, just been feeling… tense.”

“I-it’s alright, I understand,” She chuckled softly then said, “I, um, came here t-to talk to you. A-about what is going on and, um… t-to see if I can h-help you?”

Looking at Alphys with some amount of consideration, Sans sighed, “so undyne sent you instead of coming to talk to me herself?”

“Um, well, yes... and no. She, um, k-knows I wanted to talk to you, but not that I-I’m here to, um, h-help you,” Alphys smiled awkwardly.

“Wow, Alphys, never imagined you to be the rebel type,” Sans grinned.

“Yes, well, i-if you hadn’t just d-disappeared, without e-even saying g-goodbye, maybe y-you would,” Alphys said, folding her arms, glaring slightly.

Sans shrunk back from the glare, knowing it was deserved.

“N-not only that, but you n-never tried to visit, or r-respond to my messages!”

“guess i’m not winning the ‘friend of the year’ award,” Sans hoped that would soften the mood a little.

It worked and she sighed with a smile, “y-yes, that is going to b-be mine.” He saw her, look around for a spot to sit, “a-anyway, this may take a w-while, so, um, guess w-we need to get started.”

As she started to sit on the floor he held out a hand, as if the stop her, “want me to pass you my, uh... blanket? The floor can’t be comfy for you.”

“Oh, um, s-sure, i-if you don’t m-mind,” She stopped herself and waited

Sans shrugged and shuffled over to the bed. He started to feel a little lightheaded from all this moving around, and no surprise there. Next to no sleep, he hadn’t eaten, and his magic was being artificially held back. To keep from possibly passing out he paused a moment before gathering the well starched blanket. Unlike everything else provided, it was a nice blanket, just poorly cared for. The dizziness remained, but he no longer felt so close to fainting. Still, he wanted to hold his head, but he didn’t want to concern Alphys. Shuffling back to her, he passed his blanket through the bars. From where he was, he could see a guard standing down the hall, watching suspiciously, “Naw, it’s alright,” Sans said them, “I got her something to be comfy with, so don’t trouble yourself.”

Alphys looked back at the guard who was glaring back at Sans, “M-maybe you shouldn’t, um, a-antagonize them?”

With a shrug Sans sat, but in the process, he practically let himself collapse on the floor with a clatter of bones. The clothes provided no padding, and he felt some regret for that action. Pain shot up his spin from his lower half as the rough collapse jolted his bones. As unpleasant as it was, it forced his brain awake, “So, what do you want to talk about, Al?”

Clearing her throat, after situating herself on the blanket, she pulled out a small note pad, “So, uh… h-how much do you, um… u-understand about why y-you’re here.”

“Very little, Al, nothing has been explained to me. To make matters worse, I don’t even know how long I have been here. And I gave up trying to ask, since the guards have yet to say anything. And has anyone told Tori where I am? I told her I wouldn’t be long,” He poked at the food on the tray, “and I’m still pissed about the inhibitor.”

“Um, Y-yes that would, erm, well,” Alphys mumbled.

“It’s okay al, it’s not like you put it on me,” Sans said, and noticed her wince; that caught his interest.

“A-anyway, I had t-talked to Grillby and h-he went to tell her. And, um, y-you’ve been here for, a day,” she said and then shifted uneasily under San’s empty gaze. The amount of time that passed sunk in, and he hoped Toriel was well. He then sighed and turned his gaze from the scientist. Toriel was doing alright before he showed up, he was sure she'd be fine again.

Alphys continued, sounding more nervous, “S-so about w-why you’re, um, here, Undyne says that y-you, um, helped the h-human. A-and that, erm, you d-did it with the i-intent on, well, h-having them k-kill A-Asgore.”

“why would i do that?” Sans shook his head.

“S-she, uh, thinks…,” Alphys falls quiet and fidgets.

Sans waited for her quietly, not wanting to rush her. After a moment, she finally finished the thought, “she th-thinks you, erm, d-did it to, um, g-get with Toriel?” The last sentence was meant to be a statement, but it came out as a question.

“that’s ridiculous, i didn’t even meet her until after the kid left the underground. Asgore was dead by the time i first set eye sockets on her.” Alphys made an odd humming noise and Sans frowned, “what was that about?” When she didn’t respond, he narrowed his sockets, “alphys, what is it?”

“Well, I mean, y-you did kind of, um, know her before,” She said hesitantly.

Sans narrowed his eye sockets more, “al?”

Alphys cleared her throat and shifted uneasily, “So, um, y-you know h-how I had cameras up to, erm, w-watch for h-humans?”

“sure, i located all of them around snowdin,” he shrugged.

“O-oh, so you kn-knew about it,” She looked relieved.

“knew about what, al?” Sans felt a sinking feeling, wondering if he missed a camera, “just tell me.”

“T-the camera, by the, erm, ...ruin door,” Alphys said, and he felt all the magic drain from his head to his stomach.

“so… there was a camera recording me… telling knock knock jokes to the door… to the person behind the door?” He leaned his head against the bars, his skull clicking as it touched, “al, we never told each other our names, i didn’t know who she was.”

“I knew, because A-Asgore told me. He, um, was having a b-bad day when I was there to g-give him my report. N-no one else knew, n-not even Undyne,” She hesitated, “You, um… seemed to make her happy.”

That statement meant one thing, “... al…,” he sat back, “aaalphy, please, please tell me you weren’t watching.”

“Erm,” was her only response.

“aaaal!” he whined, “c’mon! why were you watching me do that? did all the times i hung out watching anime with you mean so little?”

“I-it was cute,” She said, blushing slightly, which made him groan in frustration.

“alphys, I am seriously reconsidering our friendship,” Sans muttered. Then his mind drifted to what he knew of her and his eye sockets shut tight. Speaking in a hushed tone, hoping the guard wasn’t paying attention to this conversation, he pleaded, “al, please, please tell me you didn’t write one of those stories about us.”

The resounding silence that followed caused his face to flush with embarrassment, “al.”

“I-I couldn’t help it!” She finally said.

“al.”

“You two were just so c-cute,” she explained.

“alphys…,” he pleaded as if she could suddenly unwrite her stories.

They’re, erm, l-light?”

Pressing his hands to his eye sockets, he muttered with an air of sarcasm, “oh, well thank goodness for that. at least you weren’t writing porn about us” he looked at Alphys as she tried to feign an innocent smile, “i’m not one of those fictional characters you love to watch, al. tori and i are real.”

“If it helps, T-Toriel and Asgore are my, um, otp,” she muttered at the end.

Sans felt his right socket twitching at that and rubbed the sides of his head, looking at her with dimmed, though still lit, eye sockets, “no, al, that doesn’t help.”

Alphys shifted, then cleared her throat, “So, um, back to the m-matter at h-hand. She, that is, Undyne thinks that y-you knew, erm, because you m-met her in a previous timeline.”

“i didn’t remember that then. you did tell her i don’t remember what happens in previous timelines until it comes back as a dream sometime later? and what does filter back is usual the worst of them first? in all honesty, i don't really remember meeting her in the other time lines… just… i don’t know, and essence of her being there, i guess.”

There was a look on Alphys’s face, one he knew all too well from watching animes with her. “S T O P,” he said, cutting off whatever shipping thoughts were going through her head right now.

“Y-yes, but she, um… wasn’t convinced,” Alphys said quickly.

“she can’t just cherry pick what she wants to believe,” Sans tried to think, wondering what he could do to convince Undyne he didn’t know who the Lady behind the door was at that time. A memory, he would love to forget, filtered back to the front of his mind, “do your cameras record individually?”

“Y-yea, why?”

“so, when you were watching the kid, the Snowdin camera by the door was still recording, and you still have that recording?”

Alphys nodded and Sans sighed. He was both frustrated and relieved, “watch that and show it to undyne. i thought tori was dead and the evidence of that is there.” He paused for a moment then looked at Alphys, “i’d rather she not sees more than she has to see. it was, uh, shortly after pap...”

“O-okay, that should work,” Alphys smiled kindly, speaking up before he felt the need to finish that sentence. She looked at the notes pad as she jotted that down.

“so, uh, what else?”

“Erm, well, the, um… aiding the human?”

“i didn’t do anything to help the kid after pap died. before then, pap and i were having fun with the kid,” He sighed and shook his head, “and even if i tried stopping them, as she has been told, it wouldn’t matter. the kid would just reload the timeline until they got what they wanted.” He thought back then looked at Alphys with a frown, “what about the sentry? at grillby’s she said i helped in the death of a sentry.”

Alphys ‘hrmed’ and looked uneasy, “Well, um…”

“...who was the sentry?” he asked, yet he was sure, by her reaction, he already knew the answer.

“P-Papyrus” Alphys watched him.

A dark anger rose inside him and he clinched his hands, frustrated he didn’t have a pocket to shove them into. His eye sockets were dark as he could feel the mask smile creep onto his face, “is that so?” Alphys flinched as his voice echoed.

He calmed himself before he closed his eyes, getting the lights back, though dim, before reopening them, “i wasn’t there when he died. i had no reason to believe the human would hurt him. i would have been there for him if I knew he was in danger, not that it would even matter.” He stood, feeling himself wobble slightly as the dizziness returned, and walked over to the bed. “and you know what, screw her.” Sans snapped, “she didn’t even hire him as an ACTUAL sentry!” It hurt to raise his voice like this, as it required more magic at a time than the inhibitor gave freely. He sat on the bed, staring at the opposite wall.

His sudden outburst caused Alphys to jump, “S-Sans, what do y-you mean. Your brother always said he was a, um, sentry.”

“did you ever see his sentry station?” Sans asked, trying to keep his voice calm, “i made it for him after Undyne told me she couldn’t make him a real sentry. he was supposed to have my sentry station, but i ended up taking it over when Undyne felt he could hack it. instead of being an actual sentry he was just in charge of the puzzles, but still carried the title,” he shook his head, and gave Alphys a tired, though angry, look, “and now, after he is dead, she has the gall to call him one? when she couldn’t really do it while he was alive? if she is going to do that, she could at least promote him to royal guard.” Leaning forward, he held his skull as he felt a pounding, radiating migraine start. “if she wants to accuse me of taking part in my brother’s murder, she better come tell me to my face.”

Standing Alphys carefully passed back the blanket, leaving it on his side of the bars, “I’ll, um, let h-her know.” Alphys started to walk away before looking back at him. “S-Sans, um… I’ll try and hurry this p-process up,” Alphys stammered.

“thanks, al, and sorry i said i was reconsidering our friendship. you’re a better friend than i deserve.”

“Y-you bet I am,” Alphys grinned

Sans chuckled, then looked at her, “can you find out how Tori is?”

“Sure, Sans.”

“and al, no more fiction about tori and me, ok?”

Alphys gave him an odd grin, the said, “J-just try and s-stop me.”

Toriel had received a text from Grillby that morning, it informed her that Alphys was coming to see her. The elemental had returned to work, trying not to raise suspicion. Before he left, he warned Toriel that Alphys is from Hotlands, and won't tolerate the cold well. That is why the goat monster had decided to wait by the door for the knock.

While normally patience is not a foreign concept to her, she still found herself becoming tired of waiting. Wondering if there was a problem, she started to text Grillby, to ask what could be keeping this expected guest, when she heard a tentative knock on the door. Mustering up a smile, she opened it and look out.

Standing in the snow was a shivering, yellow dinosaur, who nervously fidgeted her hands, “H-hello, T-Toriel, I’m, um, Dr. Alphys. Grillby said he’d tell you I was o-on my way.”

“Yes, please come in, Doctor. The house is upstairs, I have a fire to warm you back up. Would you like some pie?” Toriel asked, she felt an eager tremble travel through her. A part of her wanted to skip the niceties and hear what Alphys had to say about Sans. With a deep breath, tried to stay calm, not wanting to upset the already nervous guest.

“Oh, um, s-sure, thank you.” Alphys walked in, looking happy to get out of the snow. The two walked upstairs, and Toriel made sure the fire was producing enough heat to be pleasant for the dinosaur. She retrieved two slices of pie and brought them out for Alphys and herself.

They sat at the table and the silence was deafening. It was maddening. Toriel had to fill that void, and get the dinosaur to start talking about what she wanted to hear. After she swallowed a bite of pie, she said, “So, I heard you had a chance to talk to Sans yesterday.”

“Y-yes, I did, um… he asked about you,” Alphys tried to smile, but the expression looked haphazard.

“How was he?” Toriel asked.

Alphys shifted nervously and set her fork down, “I’ve, um, seen him b-better. H-he isn’t sleeping well, and, uh… stressed.”

Toriel looked down at the pie, it tore at her soul to hear such news, “When can he come home? How much longer is this going to take?”

“Uh, well, Undyne isn’t, um… w-well, she is taking h-her time,” Alphys fidgeted and started talking faster, “I gave her Grillby’s statements and the evidence that would prove him innocent of at least some of the charges, but all she did was look at it and walk away... I’m not sure what to do or how to get her to move this along. I told her Sans wasn’t doing well, and she’s acting like she doesn’t care, but, I mean, Sans is Papyrus’s brother so I think she does care. But she is so full of anger.”

“Alphys, slow down,” Toriel jumped in, and placed a hand on the small dinosaur’s shoulder. In the time it took for Alphys to calm down, Toriel tried figuring out what had been said, “So, she is just sitting on the information and doing nothing?”

Alphys nodded quickly and fidgeted again. Anger slowly kindled in Toriel, she stared at her pie slice, mind racing. Slowly Toriel stood and walked down the hall. She needed to get something, something she believes has do with of the timelines Grillby spoke of. They had talked more about it that night. His knowledge of them was weak at best, Sans spoke about them to Grillby rarely, and most of the time her love was drunk. But what Grillby had heard sounded important, and he felt it was something Toriel would need to know. It confused Toriel, as it sounded like time had traveled backward, or thing had happened but became undone.

Grillby said Alphys knew more about this. After speaking to Grillby she had returned to Sans’s room and looked at those notebooks. A lot of it still didn’t make sense, but there were dates and times repeated with different events.

Retrieving the notebooks and walking back to the table she set them down, “I want him to explain this to me, but is there anything about these ‘timelines’ I need to know about?”

Picking up one of the notebooks, Alphys’s scales blanched. She then picked up the other and read through it quickly, “There is a lot t-that I still don’t understand. But, he, um, remembers events that happened in previous timelines through his dreams.” She set the notebook down and pointed, “See, this is the date and time he had this, um, dream, and this is the estimated time he thinks the events occurred.” As Alphys looked through the scrawled handwriting, she was started to mumble to herself while getting an idea of the verbiage used. As she read she cringed and set the book down, “There is, um, s-some scientific backing to it, b-but it is unknown why he can r-remember it while w-we can’t. Well, kind of. He says he forgets a-after every reset only to re-remember. And, uh, we sometime n-notice them through, um, d-Deja vu feelings.”

“Is that why he is writing it down? To not forget?”

“Um, w-well, if a reset were to h-happen, then he never w-would have written it down. This is, erm, more to c-clear his mind and, um, organize h-his thoughts.”

Toriel frowned, “And he is having these dreams still?”

“There have been a lot of r-resets,” Alphys frowned, opening the first one again, “A lot of bad resets…”

Toriel closed her eyes, thoughts drifting back to the night she found Sans making coffee. No wonder he didn't want to sleep. And that night she spilt wine on him... and his reaction... A paw moved to her mouth, had he…

“Bad how?” Toriel asked.

“W-what?” Alphys shift.

“He spoke to me about a bad dream long ago. He found others dead, watched his brother die… and then…,” her voice cracked, wanting to give up and weep, “dying himself.”

“F-from what he t-told me, th-they aren't all l-like that. Some are better… some are, um, worse…,” Alphys shifted uneasily.

Sans has been through a war then. An unknown, silent war, with himself as the only soldier who stood between an invisible threat and those he cared about. All those times he called himself lazy, how further from the truth could that be? He was worn out, internally injured, and in need of peace.

“And Undyne, she is just leaving him in her dungeon to rot?” Toriel said, she heard a razor edge to her own voice. Crying can come later, her soul turned to a different emotion.

Alphys flinched and looked at her pleading, “I’m doing what I can.”

Toriel didn’t think, only reacted. She stood and walked to the stairs. She heard the patter of Alphys’s feet behind her, as she descended to the hall that would lead her to the door…

Closing thoughts: I like to think we all have a little Alphys in us... I know I do~ Though, I wouldn't write about real people... that... just seems odd to me.

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