#waff

[natalievoncatte]

Lena was in the dark in more ways than one.

The lights in her penthouse were all dark save one, a night light in her en suite to ensure that she didn’t take a fall if she got up. Swirling the edge of a migraine, she’s grown tired of an again-delayed product launch and the hoary halls of power and their patriarchs. Few things frustrated her more than the spiteful condescension of old men clinging to a world with all the success of a man trying to gather all the sand in a desert through chapped fingers.

Few things annoyed her more.

One of those things, she could give no name. Since Lena had realized Kara’s identity, things had been tense between them. Mostly in a pleasant way; they had been feeling out this new normal, Kara tentatively broaching this or that topic to add to brunch chats and lunchtime gossip.

“Oh,” she’d say, “that last alien hit pretty hard,” as if being knocked clean through a fertilizer plant by a blow to the head were part of her commute.

To Lena it was all new, but there was something else with it. Something neither of them dared to name, some friable, delicate new shape that they could only feel by its edges. It began with Kara bombarding Lena with friendship. Fresh breakfasts hand-delivered at hypersonic speeds. Daily lunches. For the last month, Kara had spent every weekend at Lena’s, or vice versa.

Lena’s penthouse had a guest bedroom. Kara’s place had a bed and a sofa. Comfy, but it was no bed. That was how the dance began. The first steps were hesitant, the dancers circling each other without breaking the barrier. A token argument about who gets the bed, only for them both to share it. And once they’d shared it at Kara’s place, it made no sense for Lena to confine a living space heater to the guest room.

They didn’t discuss, or analyze, or talk it out. No boundaries were ever set, and so the dance continued. What started as two people curled up in a big king bed on opposite sides became the pair of them entangling during the night, then skipping the pretext and curling up with each other before the lights went out.

It was driving Lena insane. Kara never pushed, not really, and yet it just seemed to happen. It was as if her best friend was daring her to take the initiative. The morning when Lena awoke to find Kara’s arm protectively curled about her waist, her thumb hooked on the waistband of Lena’s lounge pants, she’d almost turned over and said something.

The excuse she made was that Kara needed her sleep after the pummeling she’d taken that afternoon. That Lena enjoyed how Kara grazed the pad of her thumb over Lena’s hip bone was incidental.

Lying in the dark, Lena knew that Kara had arrived by the sound of the balcony door opening and didn’t bother to call out to her. Still dressed in her suit, Kara peeked into the bedroom, her movements tentative, somehow almost birdlike.

She came back a moment later with a cool, damp cloth for Lena’s forehead and a few murmured questions, before excusing herself.

“Darling, you can stay,” Lena sighed. “I want you to.”

“Okay,” Kara whispered back, lightly seeping stray curls from Lena’s eyes. “I need to change. No peeking.”

And why would you be worried I’ll peek? Lena thought. A platonic Best Friend isn’t going to peek. Best friends don’t do that, just like they don’t nuzzle into each other on the couch. If Lena were Kara’s best friend, then Lena wouldn’t be looking so much, so openly. Admiring Kara’s smile and her biceps and the way her abdominal muscles strained those button-downs.

She wouldn’t be thinking so much about the touches, the way she’d sat in Kara’s lap for hours at a time or how Kara had carried her to bed or how Supergirl had lingered to cradle her post-rescue, well past the point of safety.

Lena wasn’t aware she was peeking until she’s already started. Kara’s suit had taken care of itself; it was her work clothes she needed to discard. When Lena turned over, there was the broad expanse of Kara’s beautifully muscled back, flexing deliciously as she pulled on a pair of pajama bottoms.

Because Kara kept multiple sets of PJs at Lena’s place.

In Lena’s bedroom.

Because this wasn’t the first time this had happened.

Lena turned back, knowing with certainty that Kara knew. She must have heard the creaking of the mattress and the soft whisper of skin on silk sheets and the rapidity if Lena’s traitorous heart.

When Kara climbed in with Lena, the world shrank around the pair of them. Kara swept immediately to the boundary tonight, gathering Lena in her arms, hands finding spots just on this side of chaste, and their bodies molded together.

Lena was finally able to get some sleep.

When she awoke, later, Kara stirred with her.

“Zhao,” Kara muttered.

Lena froze, blinking in the dark. That wasn’t a nonsense word; it was Kryptonian.

“Come back. Zhao,” Kara muttered, as Lena stirred. She didn’t seem to be properly waking.

A nickname?

Lena couldn’t remember when she’d started calling Kara Darling, though she increasingly wished she had.

Dear diary, it was on this day at this date that I admitted my feelings to myself before wrapping them in cardboard and then in concrete and then in steel before shoving them somewhere deep down.

Kara, for her part, had tried a few pet names but most were one offs, never quite fitting. She’d even called Lena “buddy” once before Lena had cut that shit off with an arched brow.

Lena stilled. She could deny Kara nothing, and so drifted off to sleep.

By some quirk of fate, they woke almost at the same time. Lena was still groggy and bleary-eyed when Kara’s sky-blues flitted open, bringing more light than the sun itself. She shifted in the bed without letting Lena go and began to murmur something in Kryptonian, cutting herself off as that last sharp, buzzing word tumbled from her lips.

The only world froze. Kara stared at Lena with wide eyes, and the sudden tension between them made both women go rigid, neither willing to move, to break it.

“You called me that in your sleep,” Lena finally whispered. “Zhao. What does it mean?”

Kara was unusually pale.

“Oh, it’s sort of a term of endearment in Kryptonian. It means, um, ah…”

Lena sighed, cracking a soft smile. “Kara, I’m not fluent by any measure, but I know enough Kryptonian to know what Zhao means.”

“Oh,” Kara whispered, barely more than a short and sharp exhale.

“Even if I didn’t,” Lena whispered, locking eyes with her. “Your hand is literally on my ass right now.”

“Oh. Um. Golly. I’m sorry, I…”

Kara started to pull back. Lena gently took hold of Kara’s wrist and held her hand there. Her heart fluttered not only at the strength in Kara’s forearm but how those steel cable muscles went slack beneath her touch.

Lena swiveled her hips.

“I don’t know how to do this,” Kara whispered.

“Oh, trust me, I’ve got that covered,” said Lena.

Kara shivered. “No, I mean… I don’t know what to…” She swallowed hard, her throat bobbing.

Lena pressed in closer, until the space between them was more a theoretical concept than an actuality.

“Just say what you want to say.”

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

Lena snorted a laugh, briefly ashamed at her inner dork, and afraid that Kara would take offense.

“Kara, you’ve been sleeping over every weekend with your hand in my pants for months. Yes, I will be your girlfriend.”

Kara grinned, starting to sit up.

“Come on, zhao,” said Kara.

Giving their partner a nickname/having their partner give them a nickname.

[the-badger-mole]

Zutara prompt: zuko tries to position himself with his scar angled away from others so they can’t see it and katara notices.

It took a few weeks for Katara to notice, but when she did, she couldn't stop noticing. No matter which side Zuko was approached from, he would subtly maneuver himself so that his unscared side was facing whoever he was talking to. When he helped her with chore, Zuko always stood on Katara's left side, and when he spoke, he held his head angled a bit sideways and tilted down. Whenever Katara tried to move so she could see his whole face, he would move just naturally enough that Katara couldn't outright accuse him of doing it on purpose.

"Why do you keep turning away from me?" she finally asked outright one day while they were washing dishes. There was no accusation, and her voice was gentle, but Zuko still flinched as if he'd been struck.

"I...I'm not-" he started to deny, but Katara put her hand on his arm and leaned forward so she could see both of his eyes.

"You're doing it now," she pointed out. "You do it when you speak to any of us." Zuko's face flushed a bright red and his shoulders hunched up to his ears.

"Everyone's been talking about it?" he asked.

"No, no," Katara hurried to assure him. "I don't think anyone else has noticed." Zuko looked up at her in surprise.

"But you have?"

"Well..." Now Katara was blushing. "Yeah. I mean, I'm not staring or anything. I just noticed how you never seem to face me when we're talking, and I thought maybe it was because you didn't like talking to me. Then I realize you do that to all of us, and unless you hate talking to all of us...Wait, do you hate talking to all of us?"

"No!" Zuko said with a yelp. "That's not it at all. It's just...I've never really had friends before."

"And you think that looking us in the eye is going to insult us?" Katara was smiling and there was a hint of a smile on her lips, but there was also concern in her eyes to let Zuko know she wasn't trying to be mean. He just shrugged.

"I don't know," he said. "It's not that, I guess. It's just...When people look at me all they see is..." He gestured vaguely to his scar. Katara's eyes widened in understanding.

"Oh," she said. She turned her eyes back down to the wash basin and tentatively handed Zuko a bowl dry and stack. They got back into the rhythm Katara had disturbed and soon Zuko began to relax. He could see Katara in the corner of his eye throwing what she seemed to think were furtive glances in his direction. She handed him the last dish and took a deep breath.

"You know none of us cares about your scar, right?" she asked. "It's just part of you." Zuko turned, angling his head down.

"That's not as comforting as you think it is," he told her. Katara reached out and took his hand tentatively.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I know it sounds lame, but I don't want you to think that any of us is judging you because of it. You're our friend, and it's just a scar." Zuko snorted at that, but he didn't pull way. "Okay, it's a big scar, and I'm sure some blockheads on the street might stare at you. But you don't have to worry about that with us."

"Thanks, Katara," Zuko sighed. Still he didn't turn to face her completely. "No one really wants to see that though. No one wants to stare at a gigantic disfiguring scar when they're talking to someone. It's...disturbing."

"I don't think it is," she told him. That caught Zuko off guard. He forgot for a moment to keep his scar turned away from her. Katara chose not to point that out. Instead she met his gaze full on. "Back home, scars are seen as badges of honor. It means you survived something, and the bigger the scar the bigger the win."

"Right," Zuko scoffed. "I'm such a survivor. I didn't even fight back when I got this scar. I just cowered and begged my father for mercy." Katara gasped and her hands flew up to her mouth. Zuko was surprised at first, but then Katara found her voice, and he realized his mistake.

"Your father did that?" she whispered. Zuko wanted nothing more just then than to find Toph and ask her to bury him alive. He started to back away, but Katara caught his hand in both of hers.

"Please, Katara," he begged. "Don't...this isn't like the scars you guys have. You got your scars fighting, and I..."

"You didn't deserve this," Katara said. "Whatever justification Ozai fed you when he did this, it's a lie. And you did get this scar surviving." Impulsively, Katara reached up to cup Zuko's scarred cheek. She ran her thumb over the line where the scarred skin met smooth. She followed the border back to his ear and rested her still damp palm against the rough topography of his mottled skin. Then she leaned up slowly, giving Zuko time to pull away. His eyes widened in shock, but he stood still for her.

"Katara, what-"

"Shh," Katara put a finger against his lips. Then she pressed a kiss on his scarred cheek. It was like a bolt of electricity shot through him. Zuko thought Katara would pull away, but instead she brought her hands to his shoulders for leverage and kissed him again, this time on his brow, then again near his jaw. Zuko swallowed hard and brought his hands up to rest on her waist. His eyes had drifted shut under Katara's ministrations, and she took the opportunity to kiss his scarred eyelid. Zuko couldn't really feel it. The nerves beneath his scar were almost completely deadened, but he could feel the pressure of her lips. It was the first time anyone besides Iroh had touched that part of his face so gently. Well, no, he reflected. That's not quite true. Katara had touched his scar before, but this...this was different. Soon Katara had kissed every part of his scar that she could easily reach, and to Zuko's dismay, she pulled back. He opened his eyes to find her gazing up at him with a soft look he couldn't quite place. One hand was still on his shoulder and the other was once again pressed to his face, with her thumb stroking his scar gently.

"I won't push you," Katara said, her voice trembling slightly. "If you're not comfortable yet, that's fine. But you don't have to hide from us, Zuko." He nodded mutely, almost too scared to breathe. Neither of them moved for a long, expectant moment. Finally Katara stepped back, her hand ghosting down Zuko's arms to clasp his hands loosely for a beat before at last breaking contact. There was a faint blush on her cheeks and she smiled shyly. Then without another word, she left the kitchen.

At breakfast the next day, Zuko sat down next to Katara. Sokka had already claimed the seat to her left, so he settled in the empty space to her right.

[mashupnation]

[ichiwashername-o]

THAT'S RIGHT, FOLKS!

What Are Friends For, my Undertale fanfic, is back in action!

After an . . . extremely extensive hiatus, I dug up the motivation and drive to finish this thing! We're in the home stretch, and I refuse to leave it unfinished!

Join me Sunday for the exciting next chapter!

I could give you all a lengthy rambling of why this has been sitting half-finished on my drives, but there really isn't a good explanation. I just . . . didn't. And every day, week, month that passed, it grew harder and harder to work up the desire to continue.

But enough of that! You don't want excuses! You want a juicy, dramatic, feelings-filled fic! So swing on by!

And please feel free to refresh your memory over on Archive of Our Own or on my very own Tumblr page!

[sunburnacoustic]

Matt confirms what we here were discussing about We Are Fucking Fucked: it's a song meant to bleed out of the album and into the real world, in terms of narration! (Also I didn't know Matt had briefly studied film, was this during the one year he was at community college while he and Dom waited for Chris to finish school?)

From the interview Variety did with him last August as Will Of The People came out:

The new album climaxes with “We Are Fucking Fucked.” With the optimism you have about something like geothermal, it sounds like that level of pessimism is not necessarily where you are right now. But maybe that song is you in one mood that doesn’t define where you’re at all the time.

Well, I think I learned this from a film study class I did once. Films usually follow a straightforward pattern, which is a kind of equilibrium that goes into disequilibrium, then it comes back to equilibrium at the end for the happy ending. But whenever someone creates a film or a book that ends on a sort of tragedy of some kind, or ends on something bad, what happens is, it leaves the viewer or the listener in a state where they can’t help but feel compelled to do something about creating an equilibrium that isn’t there. When I was studying films briefly, that’s what someone told me: If you wanna do something where you leave it to the actual person who’s watching or reading or consuming the art… if you leave them in a state with an unhappy ending … they can walk away from it and go, “Maybe I need to do something about this.” So that was one of the reasons why I put “We Are Fucking Fucked” at the very end. Hopefully people come away from it and go like, “Well, are we? I don’t know about that. Maybe I’ll do this…”

Bonus:

In practical terms, it seems like it also would probably be hard just to follow a song called “We Are Fucking Fucked.”

Yeah, the other thing is that it didn’t fit anywhere else on the album.

[gremoria411]

Just realised that part of the appeal of units using the Rodi frame in Iron Blooded Orphans (besides them looking like little potatoes/dumplings/buns with guns) is that their design resembles the old prototype Zaku unit built by the Principality of Zeon

(I’m specifically referring to the Man Rodi, Landman Rodi, Monkey Rodi and my personal favourite, the Labrys)

With them appearing as exaggerated versions of the following:

The Zaku prototype units (in some sources called “crabman”)

Which were then replaced with the Mobile Worker and subsequently the Waff in Gundam: The Origin.

It’s just neat spotting common design themes with the Zaku-esque suits.

[alexeiadrae]

Lina and Gourry are being honored at a ball. But will Gourry stay for more than one dance? Written for Lina/Gourry Week 2023 prompt: First Dance.

AO3 version

[unlimitedrec]

Stream Unlimited Music Podcast 111 by Soundae—featuring music by John Tejada, wAFF, Aubrey Fry & more! 🔈

YouTube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TyyRh2TuXyg Apple Podcasts https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/unlimited-music-podcast/id530396355

[forged-in-kaoss]

We Are Fucking Fucked - Riviera Theatre, Chicago - Oct. 11, 2022

[jameswilson]

my (inside) cat burst out the door the other day and immediately just started eating grass, unknowingly providing me with an ideal photo opportunity

[natalievoncatte]

It was just a night, much like any other, when everything changed. Kara was tired- between the apartment fire and her work that day at CatCo and mopping up another alien crime ring, she’s barely slept in four days and had been skipping meals. It was a rare thing indeed when Lena was pestering Kara to eat lunch.

As soon as she reached the house, she glanced up and tilted her glasses down. Lena was in the kitchen, hard at work. A quick scan of the countertop revealed the mess she’d made putting together her homemade gyoza. As with everything in her life, when Lena decided to learn to cook, that she might pamper her girlfriend and her superhuman appetite, Lena went into it fully, taking culinary classes and equipping the remodeled kitchen of their suburban homestead with every conceivable gadget. Lena’s first change to the house was a bump-out that turned the already expansive “chef’s kitchen” into a near-commercial level culinary laboratory, and she threw herself into making dumplings with the same gusto with which she had set about solving the energy crisis, as if the freshly made potstickers awaiting the oil heating in the gas-powered commercial wok were as vital to humanity’s future as the fusion plant she was building in the desert.

Kara stopped in the entryway to the kitchen and drank Lena in, enjoying the fleeting moment before she was noticed. Hands covered in flour the elbow, Lena hunched over her cookbook, expression furrowed in deep concentration. She’s dressed down in a baggy flannel and patterned leggings that hugged the inviting curve of her hips that cried out for Kara’s hands, and wore her hair in a simple, loose ponytail. Everything about her was soft and cozy and home, and Kara would trade a king’s feast for one taste of those soft lips.

The whole scene played out in her mind. She’s sidle up behind Lena, who’d crack a joke about Kara being dressed as the CEO, and pretend she hadn’t noticed Kara’s return. Kara would let down her hair and bury her fingers in it, then her nose to devour Lena’s scent. As soon as Kara’s lips found the curve of Lena’s jaw, dinner would be indefinitely postponed and Kara would sate her hunger in other and better ways.

Then, she heard it. Beneath Lena’s heartbeat, strong and steady and safe, was another. A tiny, racing thing, like a baby bird. Kara stood there dumbfounded for too long a beat before she understood and let out a soft cry.

Lena looked up.

“Darling? What’s wrong?”

Kara fought to keep her voice from choking but failed. “I love you.”

“Did something happen?” Lena said, turning from the counter. “Kara, what is it?”

“I love you. I’m not angry and we’re okay. I just need Alex. I’ll be right back, I promise.”

Lena nodded. “Okay.”

Kara was out the door and in her suit and flying just fast enough not to endanger Lena. They’d been trying for months for this; dozens of visits to the Fortress, tests, experiments. She knew that, eventually, it would work.

It was hitting her now. Kara landed a little too hard on Alex’s back porch and knocked on the glass.

Alex was there in an instant. “Kara? What’s wrong? Is everything…”

“Lena’s pregnant.”

Alex’s face went briefly blank. “Oh.”

“Can I come in?”

“Yeah.”

Kara stepped into the house, sat down. As she took a seat, sweeping her cape to the side, Alex poured them both glasses of seltzer water and joined her. They sat quietly for a long time.

They were both quiet for a few minutes before Alex said, “How did you find out?”

“I heard it. I don’t know if she knows.”

“Kara,” said Alex, “did you run?”

Kara looked up sharply, eyes stinging with tears. “What have I done?”

“I don’t understand.”

“We made a baby, Alex. A little person, a living being we’re bringing into the world. What have I done?”

“Kara?” Said Alex, resting her hand on Kara’s. “Slow down, okay? Breathe. Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“Lena and I talked about this,” said Kara. “This life we have, being together, all the risks. We agreed to it. This little baby didn’t. She’s going to see her mom getting her head punched in on TV. What if I get sent to the Phantom Zone again? What if I die?”

“You won’t-“

“I already have,” Kara snapped, surging to her feet. “How many times, Alex? How many? What if there’s no magic grass to bring me back next time? What if I leave them alone?”

Alex stared at her, face an unreadable mask, heart racing.

Kara turned, frantic, and paced Alex’s kitchen, her eyes drawn inexorably to Esme’s drawings on the fridge, to the pictures of Alex and Kelly on the living room wall.

“So don’t,” said Alex.

“How?”

“Maybe it’s time for Supergirl to hang it up.”

Kara froze, and this time it was her own heart she heard hammering in her chest, batting against its cage of ribs as if it might break free. Her eyes found the mirror above the living room sofa and she saw herself now in the colors and crest of her house.

Her house.

“What do you mean?”

Alex stood up. “You have died three times,” she said. Clinically dead. I was there. Maybe it is time for it to stop.”

“I can’t do that to them again,” Kara agreed.

“No, but I’m not saying this for them, Kara. I’m saying it for you. You paid. Whatever debt you think you owe, you’ve paid it.”

Kara covered her mouth in her hand, biting back a sob as the tears came.

“Why should I have this, huh? Tell me why I should have it? Just because they all died and I didn’t?”

Alex stood there, stuck silent. Kara knew the hug was coming before it arrived, and melted into it. Alex gripped her firm and strong.

“I have so much to lose now,” Kara sobbed.

“No, Kara. You have so much to live for now.”

Kara’s eyes flicked open. She stared last Alex, ignoring the sting of free flowing tears. The thought of all that had come before. The sight of Krypton, crumbling in a green flash as if devoured by some great primordial dragon. Reign and Red Daughter, the darkness that has gripped her between death and Sol’s loving warmth, gifted by the soul of this Earth herself.

They were not grave markers but way stones, not portents of doom but a map. A map that led only one place.

“I have to go. Lena.”

“It’s okay,” said Alex. “Go home to your girl, Kara. Call me when you’re up for it, and maybe you can talk to Kelly, too.”

“I’d like that.”

A few minutes later, Kara came to a gentle landing on the upstairs balcony and entered through their bedroom. She could smell dinner, and a quick glance told her that Lena had finished cooking and was waiting for her downstairs with a glass of juice- not wine. Lena turned it in her fingers, her face a mask of worry. Beside her sat the potstickers in a big bowl, kept warm by a damp towel. Another look revealed a pregnancy test hidden in Lena’s shirt pocket.

Kara reached up to slip on her glasses and dissolve the suit, the stopped.

Instead, she took it off, slipping out of the suit before changing into a threadbare sweater and some joggers. Later, she would fold it, put it in a box, put it away.

Right now she slipped into the kitchen, padding silently behind Lena on bare feet, savoring the quick flutter of Lena’s heart when Kara embraced her from behind. Kara made sure to press a kiss to her cheek before deftly sliding the test from Lena’s pocket.

“You used your super senses, didn’t you?” said Lena. “That’s not fair.”

“You know what’s not fair?” said Kara. “Being the most beautiful woman in the world, and in my house no less. The audacity.”

Lena gave her a crooked smile. “Technically, this is my house.”

Kara placed a hand on Lena’s belly and spread her fingers in an wide, protective grip.

“Our house,” she whispered.

The potstickers, unfortunately, went cold.

Seeing their partner make them a meal.

[rayman-oneshots]

The search for Rayman's origins was losing steam. Not hope...but things kept...getting in the way, fun was had, the objective had found itself put off.

Rayman and Ly had found themselves involved in the baby globoxes bedtime, which often meant the ended up getting read to with a mug full of cocoa.

The lot of them ended up sleeping together for the physical and emotional warmth at night.

----

When did Rayman first notice?

The "threads", the connection between every creature, plant and thing, every one beat to the tune of it's own drum. The flow of harmony, lifeblood, magic.... He knew these words, he remembered, the faintest echo of a different tune... there were...others like him.

Had he been transported? Had he died, and been reincarnated here?

----

Ly couldn't help but ask to inspect the odd little creature she'd come to call friend.

He was quite comfortable as she looked him over, she gazed at his face, his eyes innocent, not as a child, but as an adult that never had his wonder leave him.

Tracing a hand through where she'd expect an arm to be, and then pushing his hair down (It was soft, not stiff), it immediately pinged back up.

She put a hand on his chest, tracing the source his aura to where she would expect his heart to be. He felt...calm.

She found him cute.

She dug her fingertips in; A tickle. He laughed, she felt it.

"Ah, just as I expected." Ly smiled. "You're a funny little creature."

----

Creatures of pure magic…I know of those, but I've never seen one before. There are certainly none like him in the glade.

----

"What's holding you up? These "arms and legs"? " With a smile, picking up Ly's arm as if it were a mysterious object. "Don't look very strong."

----

"Rayman. If you ever need a place, I'm sure Uglette would be fine with you staying for a while...maybe even staying for a long time?"

Globox beamed a disarming smile (huge, on that big mouth of his.)

----

Rayman gazed at nothing in particular, had he felt this way before? A feeling of gentle warmth was collecting in him; their smiles, their kindness, the encouragement, the many mugs of hot chocolate he'd been fed.

Globox and kids were asleep, breathing in rythm.

Rayman had once first woken in the glade of dreams, memory hazy, unsure of where he was from, but he was still from there...where ever that was.

He had started to feel now that he'd been born anew, he had opened his eyes one day to this world and it's inhabitants, started going through the milestones here.

----

Author notes under cut:

Rayman 2 Canon.

This was inspired by the handling of Rayman's origins in Rayman 2, and vaguely by some fanfictions that try to delve into this.

This is pretty much my answer to "Where does Rayman come from?"

Rayman and friends try to find Rayman's origins, but Rayman moves on and comes to believe he belongs in the Crossroads of dreams.

Therefore, this is technically not a mere excuse for WAFF

I have no idea how to write properly, so this is written in snapshots, I could see these little snapshots serving as memories, I suppose.

you feel most alive and find purpose. Fall in love with life." - Unknown

[jpopstreaming]

🆕🎶 「 風に揺れる 」 new single by Waff is now available worldwide! 🌐 Listen now on our weekly updated playlist and discover new sounds from Japan 🎧 https://spoti.fi/42HdAgd

[ichiwashername-o]

What Are Friends For Ch. 24

An Undertale fanfiction.

Written by ichiwashername-o

Summary: The skeleton brothers begin to construct their time machine! But, of course, time traveling is very rarely a simple endeavor . . .

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

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

WE'RE BACK, BABYYYYY! And to kick it all off is a doozy of a chapter! I really hope you all enjoy!

[CH.1] [CH.2] [Ch.3] [CH.4] [CH.5] [CH.6] [CH.7] [CH.8] [CH. 9] [CH.10] [CH. 11] [CH.12] [CH. 13] [CH. 14] [CH.15] [CH.16] [CH. 17] [CH.18] [CH. 19] [CH. 20] [CH. 21] [CH. 22] [CH. 23] [CH. 24] [CH. 25]

AO3

With no time to waste, with neither brother wanting or needing sleep, the duo headed downstairs to the basement, a room Papyrus hadn’t personally entered for some time. It was much like how he remembered it; dusty, with parts and blueprints strewn all about, a massive blue tarp half-covering some sort of strange metallic contraption. And for the first time in a very long time, Sans stepped forward to tear it off.

A great cloud of dust billowed in the air as the tarp was removed, revealing an arc-shaped machine, half-constructed with metal plates torn off, exposing the wiring and skeletal structure underneath.

“The time machine?” Papyrus ventured.

Sans gave a lazy half-shrug. “Was supposed to be. All the math checked out ok, but theory and practice are two different beasts. Could never get it to work right, and never figured out how. I suspect the human kid had something to do with it. Interference, or something.”

Papyrus gave a cautious nod. He was vaguely aware the human has— had —some strange influence over time. “But now the human is . . . not here anymore—”

“No more interference. So, maybe it’ll work this time,” Sans finished. Hey, it was the best they got. Anything was worth a shot if it meant they kept Gaster well and out of their lives. Let him rot in whatever purgatory he found himself in. 

Bastard deserved a lot worse.

“Let’s get started.”

Sans dug through the drawers, stuffed with an encyclopedia’s worth of blueprints and schematics. Initially, Sans was tentative about showing all this to Papyrus. This was complicated stuff, and the last thing he needed was to confuse his poor brother. But, to his delighted surprise, Papyrus took to the blueprints like a fish to water. It seemed all of Papyrus’s extensive knowledge of fabricating his own convoluted traps proved to give him exactly the experience he needed to read the blueprints. He had quite the mechanical eye, Sans would learn.

It really was impressive how quickly Papyrus picked up on things. With something to do, something for him to physically work on, Papyrus dove in with vigor and enthusiasm Sans hadn’t seen in him for a long time, not since the kid, that was for sure.

“Could you hand me that crescent wrench?”

“Sure thing, just pass me the terminal plates while you’re over there—"

“You want 12-gauge or 9-gauge wire for this?”

“Well, our current voltage is going off 240, and depending on the load, I say we err on the side of caution and go bigger—”

“-Green to ground, white to neutral, red to hot—could you hand me that black wire, this motor is three-phase, oh, we might have to change out the fuses, those aren’t nearly big enough—”

The hours flew by, both skeleton brothers working in tandem, getting their bones and clothes covered in dust and grease and wire shavings. And it was . . . fun . Sans had no idea how much fun it could be building something with his brother. Why hadn’t they done this before? The two of them had their fair share of joint projects, but either Sans’ slacking off made the end result a joke, or Papyrus’s endless ambition and enthusiasm caused it to blow up in a spectacular fireball before the final piece was finished.

To be fair, they were very spectacular fireballs.

But now, with the two of them working with synchronized fervor and purpose, they were making more progress than either of them could ever dream of.

Which proved to be to their detriment, they would find. So engrossed in their work, so captivated by a tangible mission and something to throw all their energy into, they . . . might have lost track of the time. And only were reminded of petty things like eating and sleeping when Papyrus stood a little too fast and nearly fainted.

Sans caught him before he could crack his head on a table. “Alright, um, I think we need to put a pin in this And I ain’t talking about the pins and needles in my legs from kneeling so long,” he chuckled.

“Clearly, we do need a break,” Papyrus noted sourly. “Because your jokes are becoming truly insufferable.”

Retreating up from the basement, they made their way to the kitchen where Papyrus began to pull out various food bits from the pantry in an attempt to cobble together some sort of breakfast—actually, what time was it? Papyrus glanced at the clock and his eyes widened. Ah, not breakfast, he decided. More like a dinner. A very, very, very late dinner.

How the time flies.

And how he hoped they’d make time fly at their own discretion when they were through, he thought wryly.

Soon enough, Papyrus, with Sans’ help, (or interference, depending on how you looked at it) he had made a nice dinner of scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast. So, he did end up making breakfast. But only because he hadn’t gone shopping in a long time and they were starting to run out of food! That was next on the list! Going to the store!

As they ate, they continued to talk about their project and how the time machine was coming along. Progress was going smoothly. If they kept up this pace, it’d be done by the end of the week.

“The hardware’s not the issue, though,” Sans said, jabbing the air with a fork. “It’s the programming. If you think plotting out a series of coordinates in 3D space is tricky, try doing it with another dimension mixed in there.”

Papyrus stuttered for a response. Yes, he was more than capable of handling the mechanical side of their little project, but the mathematical side? Not as much. “Well! Surely you have a good idea of how to do it! Or at least, where to start.”

“I do, but it’ll take a while,” Sans shrugged. He speared a rather crispy piece of bacon where it crumbled under his fork. Shrugging again, he squirted a dollop of ketchup over it and nibbled up the pieces. Papyrus gagged.

“Seriously, how on earth did I end up with such a defunct brother,” he sighed, shaking his head

Sans snickered. “I’m gonna swing by Alphys’s lab tomorrow and run the numbers by her and see what she thinks. She has a great eye for this sort of complex stuff.”

“Good idea! I need to go grocery shopping and refill our pantry! And then we can have a proper dinner!”

“Why, what’s wrong with eggs and bacon? It’s a classic,” Sans says as he takes another bite of a ketchup-slathered slice of bacon.

“But that’s breakfast food, and we’re having dinner!”

“Huh, funny, because we’re eating it for dinner, thus making it a dinner food.”

“UGH! Sans! You know what I mean!”

“I defy your conventional food standards and declare myself a culinary rebel.”

“Not as long as I’m the one in the kitchen, mister!”

“Ah, then I better go get my own.”

“Maybe you should! Then you can commit all the sacrilege against your daily sustenance that you wish!”

They shared a laugh, and in that moment, it was like their life was right back to normal. No longer did shame and guilt haunt Papyrus, and no longer was Sans writhed with fury and indignation. Determination filled them both. Determination to set things right. And knowing his brother as well as he did, Sans had all the confidence in the world that it will be done.

The brothers departed their home, both traveling on the boat together to Hotlands, further discussing construction plans and Sans waxing theories too complex for Papyrus to understand. But the younger brother didn’t mind in the least; he was more than happy to be someone Sans could think to out loud. Stepping off the boat, they split off, Papyrus running to the store and Sans veering towards the Hotland labs. 

He knocked on the door, but there was no immediate response. He knocked again, and veering on the side of caution, he also opened up his phone and shot the good doctor Alphys a text.

Hey, you around? I wanna run some numbers by you, he wrote.

He didn’t get a response back to his text, but the doors did crack open, revealing the little yellow lizard. Alphys had certainly seen better days. Her eyes were lined with dark circles, her scales were dull, her clothes absolutely filthy. But there was a brief spark of life in her eyes behind those dusty scratched spectacles that lit up when she saw Sans.

“S-S-Sans! W-What a surprise!” she said, her voice quiet and scratchy. Sounded like she had a sore throat. “I w-w-wasn’t expecting you.”

“I wasn’t expecting me, either,” he joked. “You got a moment? I’d like your input on something.”

“O-Oh, do you? I’m n-n-not sure what input I’d even give you–”

“You don’t even know what I’m working on yet,” he said gently. “C’mon, ain't you a little bit curious? I can promise ya, it’s real juicy.”

Alphys’s lips twitched in what Sans assumed–-or at least, hoped-–was a smile. “O-Okay, b-but p-p-please don’t be mad, the l-l-lab’s a total disaster.”

“Why would I judge? It probably looks exactly like mine,” Sans said, earning an actual laugh from the doctor. He stepped inside, casting a brief look around the lab. Honestly, it wasn’t that much worse than the last time he was here to look at the camera footage of the fight. Maybe the garbage pile was a little taller and more instant ramen cups were scattered about. 

Alphys cleared a small space on her desk, swiping away reports and food wrappers alike off into the overflowing trash can. On the trash was a small sticky note that simply said, “Me.” Sans frowned.

“S-so, what are you w-working on?” she asked. She tapped her claws together nervously.

“Paps and I are building a time machine,” he said simply. He produced a folder, opening it up and showing off all his blueprints and notes.

Immediately, Alphys’s interest was piqued and she leaned forward, adjusting her glasses. She picked through the papers, reading them over eagerly.

“Y-you are?!” she said, the excitement in her voice palpable. Sans shrugged, his grin growing. He figured this was just the thing to break through poor Alphys’ stupor. “B-but I thought you totally gave up on this project–”

“I did, because the human kept interfering with it,” Sans said. “But now with the human gone . . .”

Alphys deflated. “Y-yeah, that’s a good point.” She chattered, her entire body shivering as her stuttering grew worse. “But there’s–there’s s-s-still s-someone else wh-who can control the t-t-timeline . . .”

Sans paused. “Flowey.”

Alphys nodded.

Well. Shit. In all the excitement, he completely forgot that one tiny little hiccup.

Sans tried to hide his frustration, but it was hard not to be discouraged. He was so sure this would work, only to find out that–once again–his plans and work all amounted to nothing.

“Ah. Well, in that case, I better get out of your scales,” Sans said, taking the folder out of Alphys’s reluctant hands. “Sorry to bother you.”

He turned to leave. Now how in the world was he going to break the news to Papyrus–

“Wait.”

Sans paused. He turned around. Alphys was still hunched over, but from her frown and the way one claw was raised to her lips in deep thought, he could see the gears churning rapidly in her head.

“W-what if . . . what if Flowey was . . . willing to help us?”

Sans stared. “And why in the world would that little weed wanna help us ?”

“Because he’s bored !” Alphys said. “H-h-he was talking to me recently, a-a-after he m-m-made me–”

“What,” Sans asked sharply. “What did Flowey make you do?”

“It’s not important,” Alphys dismissed. Sans knew better than to push her. “But what is important is that he was telling me how bored he was now! He told me how much he hated how things worked out! Nothing’s fun for him anymore!” Despite what she was insinuating of the little flower’s psychotic behavior, she was smiling. She looked genuinely excited. 

“I-If we told him we were w-working on something to fix the timeline, I think he’d help out!” she went on. “N-Not because he’d want to help us, o-of course, but because the one thing Flowey hates more than anything is being bored. And this timeline is really, really boring for him!”

Sans hated to admit it, but Alphys had a point. He remembered all of Flowey’s rants and taunts about how much he liked to play with them. How much fun he was having torturing them. And he recalled very distinctly how furious Flowey was when the fun had run out for the little beast.

“Well, that’s an idea,” Sans said slowly. “But it’ll be hard to convince him. He can be pretty stubborn and egotistical. Maybe if we make it seem like his idea instead of us asking him directly–”

“L-Leave it to me,” Alphys said, smiling for the first time in what felt like forever. “B-Being s-stuck with him for so long, I know how he thinks.”

“Just be careful,” Sans warned. “And if he does anything to hurt you–”

“D-Don’t worry about me, he w-won’t hurt me,” Alphys said. Her voice lowered. “He . . . he enjoys playing with me t-t-too m-m-much to hurt me too badly.”

Sans stiffened. 

“I got this!” Alphys added in a rush, putting out her hands. “J-Just trust me! P-Please?”

Sans let out a reluctant sigh. “You got my number handy. Just promise to call me if he does anything funny . Cuz that’s my job.”

“Promise,” Alphys swore, drawing an x-shape over her chest. “O-Oh, and Sans? I ran your calculations through my head.” Once again, her eyes sparkled. 

“It’s going to work!”

–---

“Let’s see here–spaghetti noodles–always an essential–and sauce, and bread to make Sans’ favorite sandwiches, and milk ! Don’t forget the milk!”

Papyrus cruised up and down the isles of the massive general store, appropriately called The General Store, loading his shopping cart with food. If they wanted to build the time machine, they needed plenty of energy! And for that , they needed food to make plenty of tasty meals!

As he shopped, he hummed a little tune to himself, not paying too much mind to the surrounding shoppers. If he was, he might notice them giving him a wide berth, which just made shopping that much easier since he wouldn’t have to snake the big bulky car through the throngs of fellow patrons!

The humming also drowned out the whispers and the mutterings. All for the better. 

As he proceeded to the check-out, he was surprised to see a familiar blue flash of scales and crimson hair. He brightened, waving over at Undyne. Undyne caught sight of him, jerking in surprise herself, before she smiled and hurried over.

“Hey, Paps, whatcha doing?” she asked gently. She hadn’t seen him since the funeral for all the Snowdin residents and sentries, but he looked so much cheerier . Which was a very good thing!

“What does it look like? Shopping, obviously!” Papyrus said, gesturing to the cart of food. “Our food stores grew dangerously low, so I thought it most prudent to restock!” He glanced at the basket in Undyne’s hand. “I’m assuming you’re doing much the same?”

“Oh, uh, yeah, I was running low on tea and seaweed,” she said, hefting the basket stuffed so full it was a miracle nothing was spilling out and over. Or that Undyne could carry it all effortlessly in one hand. “Um, you look . . . good.”

“I am, and I’m feeling much better, too!” Papyrus said. He leaned forward and whispered in a voice that was only barely quieter than his usual bombastic voice–

He was speaking loud again!

“Sans and I are building a time machine!” Papyrus said excitedly, barely able to contain his own excitement. “Isn’t it great?! We’re going to go back in time and fix everything!”

Undyne stared. Now, she had seen plenty of animes with time travel shenanigans, and it always seemed to go . . . poorly . To say nothing if it was even possible.

“Oh, is that so?” she asked, trying to gauge if this was some sort of ruse. But no, Papyrus looked completely serious.

“Indeed! My brother is visiting Alphys as we speak! He’s running the calculations by her to make sure everything’s up to snuff! We’ve already got the machine built in our basement!”

Oh. Oh, wow, they were serious .

“That’s–that’s great, Papyrus,” Undyne said, but her head was reeling. Darn it, she didn’t have the head for all this complicated science crap! She knew Sans was smarter than he let on, but smart enough to build a time machine?!

“Hey, you know what? I haven’t visited Alphys in a bit myself. Let’s swing by and say hi!” she suggested. She needed to see all this for herself. It was too crazy to believe! Time travel, of all things!

“Okie-dokie!”

Papyrus quickly paid for his groceries, loading himself up to the elbows with bags. Undyne helped. They made their way over to the labs, which wasn’t too far of a jaunt from The General Store. With their arms so full of groceries, they didn’t have anything free to knock, but the door was slightly ajar, so they let themselves in, figuring Alphys and Sans were just inside.

“Hey, Al! Sorry for barging in, we just wanted to say hi–!” Undyne shouted, but her voice stopped cold when she saw the lab was a wreck . It was more than the usual mess of papers and food wrappers and trash; furniture was toppled over and computers smashed. Vines snaked their way out of cracks in the floor and walls.

Both she and Papyrus dropped the groceries. They only shared one brief and horrified look before they took off, scouring the labs.

“ALPHYS?! ALPHYS!!!” Undyne shouted madly, panic and anger rising up in her soul. If anyone hurt a single scale on her girlfriend’s head, she’d destroy them!!!

They rounded a corner, getting a brief peek of more carnage before Papyrus grabbed Undyne’s arm firmly and pulled her back. He placed a finger at his mouth, signaling her to keep quiet. They both leaned around the corner together.

Beyond, in a room, similarly destroyed, with vines coating nearly every inch of wall and floor, was Alphys, wrapped up in thorny vines as a little yellow flower scowled viciously down at her.

Teeth grinding together, Undyne summoned a spear. She was going to KILL that thing–!

“ Wait ,” Papyrus urged, pulling her back again. 

“What– why ?! That stupid weed is hurting her!” Undyne seethed.

But Papyrus held firm, simply gesturing to hold back to watch and listen. The scientist and the flower, not noticing their presence, continued to talk.

“And you just thought you could sneak around like this, behind my back, and I wouldn’t know?!” Flowey was saying. 

“I w-w-wasn’t trying to t-t-trick you,” Alphys insisted. Though she was shaking and completely trapped, she didn’t look . . . scared . In fact, she looked quite focused and composed. This was enough to get Undyne to pause, much to her regret. “I’m j-j-j-just the m-messenger.”

“So that sneaky little trash bag thinks he’s so clever, doesn’t he?! Bet he thinks he’s even smarter and more clever than me, huh?”

“W-w-well, he is very s-smart,” Alphys said, shrugging as much as her vine prison allowed. 

“Enough! No more smart retorts from you! Tell me! What’s that trash bag up to?!”

“M-m-me? Or him?”

“DON’T PLAY STUPID WITH ME!” Flowey roared, and the vines tightened around Alphys, making her wince.

That was it. Undyne didn’t know what was going on, but she wasn’t going to let this stupid flower hurt her friend! 

She stepped around the corner, and she saw Alphys’s gaze flicker over to her. And she swore she saw Alphys mouth “No.”

No?! No what ?! No to saving her from this monster?!

But Alphys turned right back to Flowey, acting like Undyne wasn’t even there. “S-Sans is working on something. A big machine. He sh-showed me some notes . . .”

Undyne felt her phone buzz with an incoming message. Instinct told her to answer it. She pulled it out of her pocket, hardly tearing her gaze away from the scene in front of her.

It was from Alphys. It simply read, Don’t.

Undyne didn’t understand. What was Alphys doing?! She looked harder, and between the layers of vines, she could see the glow of a cell phone clutched in Alphys’s hand. Her thumb moved as she typed, all while keeping her attention focused solely on Flowey.

“It-it looked like . . . like . . .” she stuttered.

“Like what ?!” Flowey demanded.

Another text from Alphys. I got this.

“A time machine.”

Trust me.

Flowey paused. “A time machine?! Really? HA! That proves it! That trash bag is as stupid as ever!” He puffed up smugly.

Undyne deflated. That proved it, didn’t it? Time travel just wasn’t possible–

“No one can control the timeline but ME!!!”

Wait, what?! Undyne thought.

Alphys’s eyes widened in horrible realization. But it looked . . . forced? “W-what?! Oh no! That’s t-t-true! H-How could I have forgotten?”

“That’s right, my scaly little friend!” Flowey cackled manically. “You of all people should know the extent of my power! Silly little scientist! My DETERMINATION won’t allow just anyone to mess with my SAVE!”

“W-Well, I guess it’s not much of a loss,” Alphys sighed sadly. “Not much of a SAVE, if you ask me . . .”

Flowey froze. His smile slowly turned from gleeful to enraged.

“Would you like to repeat that?” Flowey hissed, dragging Alphys close. Alphys, despite herself, couldn’t help but squirm.

“I-I-I’m just s-s-saying what you said!” she pleaded. “W-Weren’t you the one who was s-s-saying how you weren’t having fun anymore?”

Flowey paused, grumbling, growling to himself. “Well, it’s pointless anyway! I can’t go back past the stupid human’s death!”

“Not unless you had some help , maybe . . .”

“I don’t need anyone’s help! And certainly not the help of that dumb trash bag!” Flowey protested fiercely. 

“Right, of course, of course,” Alphys backpedaled quickly. She then sighed again. “I guess that means we’re stuck in this boring, dull, not-fun timeline. Forever.”

Flowey scowled, barely able to speak.

“Yeah, yeah ! That’s right! You’re all stuck here! With me ! Because no one has control of the timeline but me ! SO DON’T YOU DUMB SCIENTISTS EVER FORGET THAT!!!”

And then, Flowey was gone. The vines slithered back through the walls and floor, dropping Alphys on the ground as Flowey slinked away.

“Alphys!” Undyne raced up to the scientist, pulling her to her feet and looking her over. Papyrus joined her, coming out of his hiding place. “Are you ok?!”

Alphys, despite the terrifying encounter, was smiling, looking quite pleased with herself. “Y-Yeah! I’m fine! I’m ok! I w-wasn’t expecting you! What are you two doing here?”

“Checking in on you, ya big nerd!” Undyne said, breathing a sigh of relief. Alphys was unharmed, thank the Angel above. “Are you going to tell me what all that was about?”

“W-Well, long story short, Sans is building a time machine,” Alphys said. She looked at Papyrus. “You told her, right?”

“I did! But I am not sure how Flowey found out! Or why was he so angry!”

“Oh, th-that was me!” Alphys explained.

“WHAT?! WHY?!” Undyne cried. “Flowey’s crazy evil, why would you tell him?!”

“Undyne, it’s ok! It was all part of my p-plan!” Alphys explained quickly. She adjusted her glasses, which now had a hairline crack through them. “Sans and I figured out that the time machine won’t work because Flowey’s power wouldn’t allow it to work; he would override the machine Sans is building.”

Undyne stared back and forth between Alphys and Papyrus. “Wait, are you actually telling me time travel is real ?”

“In a sense. But it’s very situational, and only beings with incredibly high Determination can do it,” Alphys said. “Beings like Flowey and the human.”

Papyrus smacked his forehead. “Oh, of course! How could I forget that?!”

“To be fair, Sans forgot, too,” Alphys giggled. “And if we want the time machine to work, we figured we needed Flowey’s help. B-But, of course, Flowey being . . . who he is, we couldn’t just ask him for help.”

“So, you set this up?” Undyne asked.

“This was all a most clever ruse into tricking Flowey to help us!” Papyrus said, putting together the pieces. “Well done, that was incredibly clever of you, indeed!” 

Alphys blushed.

“And incredibly stupid . He could have hurt you!” Undyne protested.

“I k-know, but it was a risk I had to take,” Alphys said. “A-And besides, I think I know Flowey well enough to know he wouldn’t do anything too terrible to me. I-it would mean one less friend for him to p-play with.” She laughed, but she couldn’t suppress a shudder.

Undyne got down on one knee and wrapped Alphys up in a tight hug. “Alphys that was . . . so brave of you. But you shouldn’t have done something so dangerous without telling us!”

“I knew what I was doing. I had everything under control!” Alphys assured. “Besides . . .” 

She pulled out her phone, pressing a button on it. Two things activated at once: first, a magical bubble barrier popped around Alphys, shielding her from harm, and secondly, machines in the room they had just been standing in began to activate. Out of the wall panels, gears and pistons whirred to life, revealing a mess of pipes that extended from concealed holes in the walls from every angle. The pipes sputtered to life, belching out a torrent of roaring flames that engulfed the room.

Alphys grinned. “I had a back-up plan.”

Undyne stared at the booby-trapped flamethrower room, lips slowly pulling back into a delighted smile. “Alphys, you are the coolest person ever.”

Alphys beamed.

–--

Sans didn’t have to wait long.

In fact, he was barely back in his basement, setting aside his notes, when a most unwelcome visitor barged in, springing up on Sans and wrapping him up in vines.

Sans sighed sarcastically. “Hey there, Buddy. But, I thought you knew better by now to try this trick on me,” he said as he seamlessly teleported out of the vines, standing right back on the floor. 

He stared up at the mess of tangled thorny vines that had inexplicably grown in the corner of his basement lab, and front and center was Flowey himself, grinning sinisterly. But Sans also knew  Flowey fairly well, and he could see the flower’s frustration and anger behind the mask of sadism. 

“It’s still fun to remind you how easily I could crush you to dust!” Flowey sneered. “And besides, it’s been a while since I popped in on my faaavorite trash bag.” A vine extended and poked the machine. “And lookee here! Someone’s been busy.”

“Just a little pet project of mine,” Sans shrugged. 

“Don’t pretend I’m stupid!” Flowey scowled. “Oh, I already visited your bestest friend, Alphys, and she squealed allll about your secret project! I know what you’re working on!” He closed in, his grin growing. “And I can tell you, it’s not going to work! I won’t let it!”

Sans allowed his smile to fade. But from his point of view, his and Alphys’s plan was going perfectly. 

“You forget, little trash bag, that as long as I’m around, I’m the only one with the power to SAVE! I can decide when we get to keep going, or if we get to start alllll over from the beginning–”

“Well, not the very beginning,” Sans interjected unhelpfully.

Flowey’s voice cut out, spitting in frustration.

“As powerful as you may be, you’re not as powerful as that kid. There’s only so far back you can go,” Sans reminded him, trying to suppress his own satisfied grin.

“Well, you know what?! NEITHER CAN YOU! Not with this dumpy, stupid hunk of metal!” Flowey protested, smacking a vine against the machine.

“Still doesn’t change the fact. I think we’re both getting fed up with how current events played out, aren’t we?”” Sans pressed, shrugging casually. “It would be real nice if we could go back and prevent any of this from happening.”

“Yeah, well, we can’t ,” Flowey fumed.

“Not with that attitude we can’t.”

Flowey paused, turning to Sans very slowly. Sans could practically see the flower swallowing his massive pride to maybe, maybe humor the idea that it might be beneficial to actually work with him. Just this once.

“Keep talking,” Flowey hissed.

Sans stepped up to the machine, tapping where Flowey smacked it with a vine. There was a scratch, but it was superficial. “This time machine replicates the power of Determination. And we know from past experience that Determination is a multiplicative power–”

“Use English!”

“It means, if you use your power in tandem with this machine, your power multiplies significantly. You’ll be way more powerful than you are now.”

“Powerful enough to override that brat’s SAVE?” Flowey ventured hopefully.

“It just might.”

Flowey chewed it over. It was true, he hated being stuck in this timeline more than anything. It got boring so quickly seeing Papyrus mope about and cry. He wanted Chara–-Frisk, whoever back again so they could keep playing together.

But he couldn’t let Sans know he was actually contemplating this. “Or I can just take this machine for myself, harness its power, and take over the WHOLE Underground! With that sort of power, I can easily defeat Asgore, take his soul, and take the rest of the human souls he has hidden away!” he cackled gleefully. 

“Great plan, but unfortunately it doesn’t work like that,” Sans said casually.

“What?”

“It’s a lot of science-y mumbo-jumbo, but the crux of it is that this machine only works on the time travel part of your Determination. Effectively just enhancing your ability to SAVE.”

Flowey blinked, confused. “That doesn’t make any sense!”

“Yeah, like I said, it's a lot of complicated science. You try to do anything outside of travel around the time stream, it won’t work. Sorry.”

Flowey scowled. “You could be lying to me.”

“I could be.”

They stared each other down, but Sans’ expression was the completely unreadable mask it always was. Finally, with a defeated huff of frustration, Flowey relented.

“Fine! FINE ! I’ll do it! But it’s not because I want to help you! In fact, first thing I’m gonna do when I bring back that brat is torture your brother even MORE! I’ll find even more sick, twisted ways for you and your brother to go feral! I’ll make you go on a feral killing spree! I’m gonna make you kill the WHOLE Underground! Hee hee hee hee!”

Sure, you do that,” Sans said calmly. He wasn’t concerned in the least. He knew a bluff when he saw one.

“I will!” Flowey declared triumphantly. “Now just tell me what I have to do to get this hunk of junk working!”

“Well, first, we need my brother here.” 

“Fine, fine.”

“And then we need to activate the machine, and when the machine powers on, I go through and–”

“You’re not going anywhere!” Flowey protested furiously. “I will be the one to go back in time! I will kill your rampaging brother! And the human brat for good measure!”

“Sorry, you can’t.”

“WHY NOT?!”

“You can’t exactly time travel if you’re the one powering the machine, can you?”

Flowey dissolved into a furious sputtering fit of rage.  “That–that’s so unfair!!!”

“Sorry, it’s just the way it works.”

Flowey sputtered more barely comprehensible obscenities. “ARGH! This isn’t fair! This sucks! YOU suck!”

“Sorry.”

“NO, YOU’RE NOT!” Flowey continued to rage. But his desire to go back trumped all else. “UGH! FINE ! I’ll do it! But if you’re tricking me in any way, I’m going to make you and your brother suffer! As well as Alphys!”

“That’s fair.”

Flowey stood there, fuming. And with that settled, Sans made some phone calls, and within a few minutes, Papyrus was back home, dropping off his groceries in the kitchen before heading downstairs. With him was Alphys and Undyne. Undyne glared at Flowey. Flowey stuck his tongue back at her, and Alphys desperately avoided eye contact with anyone.

“So, we’re all filled in on what’s going on?” Sans asked. “With Flowey’s most generous assistance–” Flowey grunted. “--we’re going to power on the time machine, go back in time, and stop the human from falling to the Gaster Blaster beast.”

There was a nod amongst everyone, all looking grim and determined. Save Flowey, who continued to pout. 

“Our priority is making sure the human soul isn’t destroyed,” Sans went on. “So that means preventing the Gaster Blaster from fighting the human. Our optimal option is to prevent Undyne from turning Papyrus in the first place.”

Undyne squirmed uncomfortably. 

“If that doesn’t work, we need to take out the human.”

“Or take out Papyrus,” Flowey said with a cruel grin. “Killing either of them prevents all this mess, doesn’t it?”

Sans frowned, not immediately responding. As correct as Flowey was, he wasn’t going to just suggest killing his own brother!

“Aww, what’s the big deal? He’ll just come back. If everything goes to plan, that is,” Flowey continued to taunt.

“We’ll play it by ear,” Sans dismissed. “You just focus on keeping the timeline open and sending us back.” 

Flowey just swayed back and forth, grinning unsettlingly.

“Alphys, stay here and keep an eye on things. Papyrus, you too. Undyne–” he paused, settling his eyes on her. “You come with me.”

Undyne jumped. “Wait, you want me to come back in time with you?!”

“You’re pretty tough. If we need to fight the human, I’m gonna need your help,” he explained.

Undyne understood. Papyrus was strong, but his fighting spirit was completely shattered. If they needed to fight–and based on the unsettling feeling she was getting in her gut, that was very likely–Sans needed a fierce and determined warrior at his side. And knowing what the human would do to Papyrus, what that human subjected them all to, Undyne would find no qualm in her conscience about putting that human into the ground.

“Alright, everyone, let’s begin.”

Everyone got to their stations. Alphys stood at the controls, typing up the commands to power it up. Flowey wrapped his vines around the machine, sinking into the cracks to get at the “meat” of the electronics so he could feed his own power into it. Papyrus stood back, offering his assistance where he could. And Sans and Undyne stood before the gate, ready for anything.

“Powering on!” Alphys called out. 

The machine whirred on, lights blinking on, electricity humming. At the same time, Flowey’s own magic pulsed, flooding his Determination into it. The roar of motors grew louder and louder until it was a constant thunderous rumble. Sparks ignited within the circular gate, the sparks coming faster and faster until lightning arched at a constant flow. And with a sudden crash, the sparks split across the gate, creating a vortex of light. The light became a cyclone, a fierce wind whipping up and pulling them towards the vortex. Sans planted his feet, bracing himself against the wind.

Beyond him was a swirling kaleidoscope of colors and shapes. It played tricks on his mind, blinking away the stars that were flashing in his eyes as he struggled to comprehend what he was even seeing. But he knew this was it. The time machine was powered on. It was working .

“Readings are stable!” Alphys cried out over the deafening noise. “GO!”

Giving one last nod to Papyrus, Sans jumped in, followed closely by Undyne. They stepped into the vortex, and suddenly, they were pulled and stretched and thrown about, two tiny insignificant beings battered in the incomprehensible stream that was time itself. Beyond flashing lights that blinded them and shapes that defied definition, they saw images. Fragments of moments in time as they were buffeted about. Some they experienced themselves, some experienced by others, and some they couldn’t tell when they happened, or if they happened at all.

And strangest of all was the overwhelming feeling of a presence with them. Sans felt a hand grab his hood, and he turned to see Undyne clutching onto him fiercely, her eyes wide with awe as she struggled to take all of this in.

Having fun? A familiar voice called out.

“Flowey?!” Undyne scowled. “Where the heck are you?!”

“All around us,” Sans reminded her grimly. “This is his SAVE. We’re flowing through his timeline.”

Hee hee! Perhaps we should make some little detours!

“Not now, you punk! Just take us where we need to go!” Undyne cried out. But her protests were ignored as a memory played in front of them. It was the day Papyrus woke up from his extensive sleep after the human died, where he found out . . . what he did.

Helpless, they could only watch as Papyrus broke out in tears, crying in sheer anguish–

“This is old, Flowey,” Undyne growled. “Could we all just get this over with already?”

But don’t you feel just terrible about what you did to your very best friend? I mean how could you do something so hideously awful to him?

“No shit , Sherlock, why do you think I’m here right now?!”

Flowey scowled, clearly discouraged by Undyne’s lack of a reaction. Well, how about you, trash bag? Shall we relive some savory moments for you?

“Sure, it’s not like I can stop you,” he shrugged passively.

Huh? Flowey said, stunned. There was a brief pause and a stutter as Flowey found his voice. Ha! That’s right! You can’t stop me! I can do whatever I want! Show you whatever horrible memories I choose!

And he did just that. He showed the two of them the worst memories he could think of, from Papyrus’s anguish to the way the townsfolk spoke of him with fear and revulsion. He showed them how miserable Papyrus was, lamenting in his grave sin. 

Through it all, San did not react, and following his lead, neither did Undyne. They couldn’t give Flowey that satisfaction. They couldn’t let him know he was getting to them.

Clearly frustrated by this, Flowey tried harder. And with a wicked burst of inspiration, he dug up the memory of him in the lab with Alphys, forcing the scientist to watch the video of the bloody carnage over and over and over again, punishing her if she dared to look away and laughing cruelly at her sobs.

Undyne stiffened, rage billowing in her chest. That horrible little thing! She wanted to lash out and hurt him for daring to torment her friend, but Sans was there, gripping her hand tightly. He gave her a subtle shake No.

Don’t give him the satisfaction.

Undyne swallowed the hot lump of rage in her throat. And she scoffed.

“Yeah, like I care.”

The images paused and then slowly began to fade away. 

You two are so boring!

“Just take us to where we wanna go,” Sans said.

Reluctantly, and with much belly-aching, the timeline swirled around them, bringing them further and further back. They could almost sense approaching the fated event–

Undyne screamed in shock as she was suddenly slammed against some invisible wall. Her reflexes kicked in and she hugged Sans close to her chest, preventing him from striking that wall. But still the billowing force of the timeline bore down on her, pinning her to that “wall,” like being trapped against a drain under a tumultuous downpour of water. She could barely move. And worse of all, she felt a static energy burn all along her back as it was pressed against the barrier. It seared her skin, burned her flesh, setting her teeth on edge as she felt lightning course through her body.

“FLOWEY!” she screamed. “What are you doing?! MAKE IT STOP!”

We’re not there yet! He protested. It’s right there, it’s right there , we need to get there!

“There’s a wall!” Undyne cried. “There’s a wall! I can’t! It burns! IT BURNS!”

Stop your complaining, I can get it! I just need more–! More Determination! I need to get past that wall!

A foul acrid smell filled her nose. The burning turned to an ice-cold chill. The rest of her body still seared from the constant surge of lighting flowing through her. Her muscles clenched so hard she thought her teeth would crack.

“Sans!” she called out.

We’re almost there! We’re right there! Just hold on! This was your idea!

Sans saw the state Undyne was in, but beyond that, he saw the wall. It was made of an energy Sans knew all too well.

Determination. But not just anyone’s Determination.

The kid.

Even with all that extra power . . . it wasn’t enough.

I can get it! Just hold on!

Sans looked back to Undyne. She was barely hanging on. They didn’t have time to spare.

I–I–I can . . . ! Flowey protested. His voice cracked. I can’t! It’s not working!

“GET US OUT.”

And just like that, everything . . . stopped.

Undyne cracked open an eye. She was laying on the lab floor, Sans standing above her. Alphys and Papyrus rushed to her side, while Flowey was still wrapped up in the machine.

Papyrus was the first to come to her aid, looking worriedly at the burns all over her back. “Oh my goodness, Undyne!!! What happened?!”

Undyne was too rattled to speak. Papyrus didn’t hesitate before putting his hands on her and cast his healing magic. Like a soothing salve, the ache of the burns dissipated and her skin began to slowly heal. She sighed in relief.

“Thanks, Paps,” Undyne muttered. She shook her head and stood on uneasy feet, Papyrus helping her up. “Seriously, what the hell happened in there?!”

Flowey wouldn’t look at them. He stared at the machine, shaking with frustrated rage as his vines wrapped around it. “We were so close! We were so close !!! Why couldn’t you just hold on for a little longer?! I could have broken through!!!”

“No you couldn’t and you know it,” Sans said, his voice level but fierce. 

Flowey didn’t look at him. Because as much as he hated to admit it, Sans was right.

The kid was far more powerful than they thought, if even all this didn’t work.

“So . . . what now?” Undyne pressed. “That’s it? It can’t be it! We can’t give up! There has to be another way!”

Sans and Papyrus shared a look. They both knew of one more option, but Sans refused to humor it.

“That’s it.” Sans said, locking eyes with Papyrus.  “That’s the only plan we got. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t believe you,” Undyne said.

“I can’t give you the answer you’re looking for,” Sans replied.

“Yes you can,” Papyrus said, startling Sans. “You just don’t want to.”

“What are you talking about?” Undyne pressed.

“We have one more option,” Papyrus said, turning to Undyne. Sans sunk into his jacket. “We’re going to ask Dr. Gaster for help.”

[northersouth]

My order from Waff came in!!!!!!! (link to her on Twitter)

EVERYTHING IS SO CUTE!!!!!!!!!!

Also a bunch of freebies, like the stickers and an entire charm!?

It's Gorou as a gacha machine it's so cute ✧☆✧☆✧☆\(＾▽＾)\

She's awesome and her art is amazing highly recommend like woah~

[ahmarwolf]

West Aussie Fur Frenzy 2022 (Australia) Charity Numbers

West Aussie Fur Frenzy 2022 (Australia) Charity Numbers

Originally posted to Telegram Thank you everyone for attending WAFF 2022 and for everyone for attending and taking part take in our charity auction. With the help of you generous individuals, you raised a grand total of $6760 to Greyhound Adoptions WA. Now enjoy a brief break before attending our DJ dance at 9:15PM and party with us all night!!!