tzwriter - Tumblr blog

[tzwriter]

Got some terrible markers, have a doodle

[tzwriter]

[tzwriter]

🤣🤣🤣 Exist a rule that said just siblings can pick up on each other. If someone else try something, they're dead.

Dream getting comfort from Nightmare after a break up

Nightmare: You deserve better

Dream: I know.

Nightmare: You are an amazing person!

Dream: I am.

Nightmare: It's their fucking loss!

Dream: Yeah!

Nightmare: NOW GO AND KILL THEM!!

Dream: YEAH!-wait-NO! What the hell, brother?!

Nightmare: I can do it for you

Dream: Stars no!

Nightmare: They hurt you! They deserve to DIE! ANYONE WHO HURTS MY BROTHER DESERVES DEATH!!

Dream: You hurt me, too, you know?

Nightmare: That's just brotherly banter

Dream: You impaled me with one of your tenticals. Through. My. Chest.

Nightmare:

Nightmare: Brotherly banter

[tzwriter]

A MORTE DA AMARGURA

A dor era insuportável, e, se pudesse, Geno acabaria com ela com um único Blaster. Mas isso era impossível preso na Tela de Save, em alguma parte ainda mais profunda daquele maldito espaço vazio, incapaz de interferir mais em seu (antigo) mundo. Mesmo assim, ali estava aquela tela que lhe mostrava tudo, que lhe permitia ver o quão estúpido ele tinha sido mais uma vez.

Quando ele ia aprender que não podia confiar em ninguém? Quantas vezes mais ele teria que ver seu pobre Papyrus se tornar poeira nas mãos daquele humano?!

– Ei, Geninho! Achei você–

– Agora não, Reaper! – Ele cortou a morte com a voz cheia de amargura.

A última coisa que ele precisava era de Reaper para aborrecê-lo. Ele não queria ver, nem falar com ninguém, muito menos com alguém tão egoísta e sem-noção como o deus.

– Ah, você está vendo isso de novo? – Reaper suspirou, e Geno pôde imaginá-lo revirando os olhos, enfadado. Seus glitches se agitarem com fúria, e ele se virou para o visitante com magia crepitando em suas mãos.

– ISSO está acontecendo de novo, Reaper! ELU está matando todos de novo! Elu está matando PAPYRUS de novo! E sabe o que EU estou fazendo? NADA! Eu não posso fazer absolutamente NADA porque estou preso aqui!

– É por isso que você deveria parar de assistir o que está acontecendo. Não é mais responsabilidade sua, Geno. Isso só está te machucando mais e mais. Olha só pra sua camisa e jaqueta, está encharcada de sangue de novo – Reaper continuou com aquele tom desinteressado.

Geno não olhou, mas agarrou o tecido encharcado que colava em seus ossos e fazia a dor pior. Ele merecia aquilo de toda forma.

– Quem se importa comigo?! Isso é culpa minha! Eu deveria ter impedido aquelu humane! Eu tive a chance tantas vezes! Eu tentei tantas vezes! Mas eu deixei que escapasse, acreditando que elu faria a coisa certa! E lá está elu machucando todos de novo!

Sua voz morreu em um soluço, e Geno se virou de volta para a tela, dessa vez se jogando pesadamente no chão e abraçando suas pernas para esconder o rosto nos joelhos. Seu choro irritava seus ouvidos. Que direito ele tinha de chorar? Ele tinha falhado com todos sendo um completo idiota irresponsável. E agora sua família e seus amigos tinham que pagar pelo seu erro.

– Honestamente, não há um limite para o quão masoquista você consegue ser? – Ele ouviu Reaper ao seu lado e apertou suas mãos sobre seus ombros, cravando as unhas no tecido já puído de tanto que ele fazia aquilo.

– V-vá embora, Reaper – ele pediu, a voz bem mais baixa e embargada. Sua fúria estava diminuindo, e uma nova onda de dor chegava. Ele tentou se preparar para ela.

– Eu não vou te deixar sozinho nesse estado. E sabe por quê? – A mão de Reaper tocou a sua, tentando aliviar seu aperto, mas Geno lhe deu um tapa, tentando enxotá-lo. Ele odiava quando o deus fazia aquilo. Ele não queria nada com ele agora. Por que Reaper não conseguia entender?

– Você tem que parar com isso, meu amor – Reaper suspirou cansado, insistindo em tocá-lo, e Geno explodiu mais uma vez.

– EU JÁ MANDEI VOCÊ IR EMBORA!

– E desde quando eu faço o que você diz? Agora já chega disso – passando a mão sobre a tela congelada na cabeça de Papyrus caída na neve de Snowdin, o deus a desfez como se ela fosse uma mera ilusão. 

Geno o encarou com o mais profundo ódio, pronto para pular em sua garganta, mas seus braços foram segurados com firmeza e, antes que ele invocasse um ataque mágico, ele foi surpreendido por um abraço.

– Você tem que parar com isso também, meu amor. Você sabe que eu não vou te deixar, ainda mais nesse estado. Eu me importo com você, tanto que dói te ver assim. Por favor, me deixe estar aqui com você.

Como dizer não a Reaper quando ele usava aquela voz tão doce e falava palavras tão carinhosas? Geno não conseguiu encontrar forças para afastá-lo, entretanto, seus braços apertaram o pescoço do deus com desespero, e ele escondeu seu choro no manto escuro. Afagando suas costas suavemente, sabendo o quanto seus ossos eram sensíveis, Reaper o conduziu ao seu colo e tentou confortá-lo.

– Eu sinto muito pelo que você sofreu, meu amor. Mas não foi culpa sua. Você jamais culpou Papyrus por confiar naquele humano, não é justo que você se culpe também. Você precisa parar de se castigar vendo essas coisas. Por favor.

As palavras soaram ternas ao pé do seu ouvido, e, por mais que quisesse negar, Geno pôde sentir o quanto a morte se importava e o quanto estava sendo sincero. Ele apenas apertou mais o abraço e continuou a derramar suas lágrimas, sentindo a dor em seu peito escorrer com a amargura.

Levou muito tempo para que ele conseguisse se acalmar (não que fosse possível realmente medir o tempo ali, já que ele não tinha nenhum relógio). Mas, mesmo se sentindo melhor, Geno estava exausto, e seus braços doíam de tanto ter agarrado o deus.

– Desculpa – ele murmurou envergonhado do show que tinha dado.

Reaper esfregou seu crânio contra o dele carinhosamente.

– Você não precisa se desculpar, Geninho. Eu estou aqui para você. É natural, já que eu gosto de você.

Geno tornou a afundar o rosto em seu manto, encabulado por outras razões agora. E lá estava Reaper tentando arrancar mais uma confissão dele. Quantas vezes aquele deus metido queria ouvir o quanto era adorado? Mas, daquela vez, até que ele merecia. Geno realmente sentia como se toda a sua agonia tivesse sido removida de seu peito.

– Também te amo, Reaper. Obrigado por ter ficado – talvez Reaper merecesse um pouco mais, então Geno segurou seu rosto com carinho e beijou-o longamente.

Logo em seguida, ele voltou a esconder o rosto no manto escuro, vermelho de vergonha. Talvez ele tivesse exagerado um pouco. Não que Reaper não merecesse, mas o deus sequer tinha esboçado uma reação. Será que era porque tinha muito sangue escapando por entre os dentes de Geno? Ele se esqueceu completamente de checar.

– Espera, só isso? – A morte finalmente falou, parecendo incrédulo.

Antes que Geno pudesse reagir, ele foi deitado no chão, totalmente à mercê de Reaper sobre ele.

– O-o-o que você pensa q-que está fazendo?! – Sua voz saiu esganiçada. Ele tentou se mover para longe, mas seus braços estavam presos pelas mãos da morte, e seu quadril estava entre as pernas dele. Ele não tinha como fugir.

– Com todo esse trabalho que você me deu, eu quero mais que um beijo, meu amor – Reaper colou suas bocas de novo e de novo, até que Geno parasse de se debater e se rendesse. 

Só daquela vez, ele permitiria que Reaper o beijasse o quanto ele quisesse. Mas ele não deixaria que se repetisse. Não seria nada bom deixá-lo mal-acostumado.

__________

Esta fanfic foi inspirada em uma fanart de @covariate87. Chequem lá! Vocês vão adorar!

Além do mais, estou aceitando pedidos de fanfics para ajudar os protetores de animais da minha vizinhança. Se quiser saber mais, clique aqui!

[tzwriter]

KILLING THE HEARTACHE

The pain was unbearable, and if he could, Geno would end it with a single Blaster. But that was impossible, trapped in the Save Screen, in some even deeper part of that damned empty space, unable to interfere any more in his (old) world. Yet here was that screen that showed him everything, that allowed him to see how stupid he’d been all over again.

When was he going to learn that he couldn’t trust anyone? How many more times would he have to watch his poor Papyrus turn to dust in that human’s hands?!

“Hey, Geno! Found you–”

“Not now, Reaper!” He cut the death with a voice full of bitterness.

The last thing he needed was Reaper to bother him. He didn’t want to see or talk with anyone, least of all someone as selfish and pesky as the god.

“Oh, are you seeing that again?” Reaper sighed, and Geno could imagine him rolling his eyes in annoyance. His glitches flared with fury, and he turned on the visitor with magic crackling in his hands. 

“THAT is happening again, Reaper! THEY are killing everyone again! They’re killing PAPYRUS again! And you know what I’M doing? NOTHING! I can’t do absolutely NOTHING ‘cause I’m stuck here!”

“That’s why you should stop watching what’s going on. It’s not your responsibility anymore, Geno. It’s just hurting you more and more. Look at your shirt and jacket, it’s soaked in blood again,” Reaper continued in that disinterested tone. 

Geno didn’t look, but grabbed at the soggy tissue that stuck to his bones and made the pain worse. He deserved it anyway.

“Who cares about me?! This is my fault! I should have stopped that human! I had the chance so many times! I’ve tried so many times! But I let them escape, believing they would do the right thing! And there they are hurting everyone again!”

His voice died in a sob, and Geno turned back to the screen, this time throwing himself down heavily on the ground and hugging his legs to hide his face in his knees. His cries irritated his ears. What right did he have to cry? He had failed everyone by being a complete irresponsible fool. And now his family and friends had to pay for his mistake.

“Honestly, isn’t there a limit to how masochist you can be?” He heard Reaper beside him and tightened his hand on his shoulder, digging his nails into the fabric already frayed from doing so much.

“G-go away, Reaper,” he asked, his voice much lower and thicker. His fury was waning, and a new wave of pain was coming. He tried to get ready for it.

“I won’t leave you alone in this state. And you know why?” Reaper’s hand touched his, trying to ease his grip, but Geno slapped him, trying to shoo him away. He hated when the god did that. He wanted nothing to do with him right now. Why couldn’t Reaper understand?

“You have to stop that, my love,” Reaper sighed tiredly, insisting on touching him, and Geno exploded once more.

“I ALREADY TOLD YOU TO GO AWAY!”

“And since when do I do what you say? That’s enough for now,” running his hand over the frozen screen on Papyrus’ head lying in Snowdin’s snow, the god undid it as if it were a mere illusion.

Geno glared at him with the deepest hatred, ready to attack his throat, but his arms were held firmly and, before he could summon a magical attack, he was surprised by a hug.

“You have to stop that too, my love. You know I won’t leave you, even more so in this state. I care about you so much it hurts to see you like this. Please, let me be here with you.”

How could he say no to Reaper when he used that sweet voice and spoke such caring words? Geno couldn’t find the strength to push him away, however, his arms tightened around the god’s neck in desperation, and he hid his cries in his dark cloak. Patting his back gently, knowing how sensitive his bones were, Reaper pulled him onto his lap and tried to comfort him.

“I am so sorry for what you suffered, my love. But it wasn’t your fault. You never blamed Papyrus for trusting that human, it’s not fair that you blame yourself too. You need to stop punishing yourself by seeing these things. Please.”

The words sounded tender in his ear, and as much as he wanted to deny it, Geno could feel how much the death cared and how sincere he was. He just tightened the hug and continued to shed his tears, feeling the pain in his chest ooze with bitterness.

It took a long time for him to calm down (not that it was possible to actually measure the time there, since he didn’t have a watch). But even though he felt better, Geno was exhausted, and his arms ached from holding on to the god.

“Sorry,” he muttered, ashamed of the show he’d put on.

Reaper nuzzled his skull against his lovingly.

“You don’t need to apologize, Geno. I’m here for you. It’s just natural, since I like you.”

Geno buried his face in his cloak again, embarrassed for other reasons now. And there was Reaper trying to get yet another confession out of him. How many times that cocky god wanted to hear how much he was adored? But, that time, he deserved it. Geno truly felt as if all his heartache had been removed from his chest.

“Love you too, Reaper. Thanks for staying,” maybe Reaper deserved a little more, so Geno held his face tenderly and kissed him deeply. 

Soon after, he returned to hiding his face in the dark cloak, beet red. Perhaps he exaggerated a little. Not that Reaper didn’t deserve it, but the god didn’t even flinch. Was it because there was so much blood seeping between Geno’s teeth? He completely forgot to check.

“Wait, that’s it?” The death finally spoke, sounding incredulous.

Before Geno could react, he was lying on the floor, completely at the mercy of Reaper on top of him. 

“Wh-wh-what do you thing y-you’re doing?!” His voice was squeaky. He tried to move away, but his arms were trapped by the hand of the death, and his hip was between his legs. He had no way to escape.

“With all this trouble you’ve given me, I want more than a kiss, my love,” Reaper brought their mouths together again and again, until Geno stopped struggling and surrendered.

Just this once, he would allow Reaper to kiss him as much as he wanted. But he wouldn’t let it happen again. It wouldn’t do any good to spoil him too often.

__________

This fic was inspired by this fanart from @covariate87. Go check them! Their art is amazing!

Also, I’m opening fic commissions to help the animal protectors from my neighbohood. If you want to know more, please click here!

[tzwriter]

URGENT FANFIC COMMISSION!!!

Hello, my dear fanfiction and animal lovers!

I'm Tetz, fanfic writer and member of the animal protection group, Amigos dos Peludinhos (Friends of Furry Pets), in BH/MG, Brazil.

The group is going through many difficulties. Many protectors have their homes full of rescued dogs and cats, food expenses are heavy and veterinary costs even more. And even so, we cannot ignore the animals that are still on the streets, suffering.

To help protectors and animals, I decided to open fanfics commissions to help with these expenses.

With just $10, you get a fanfic of up to 1000 words of your liking and help save a pet's life.

FANDONS:

- Undertale/Deltarune;

- Boku no Hero Academia;

- Hollow Knight;

- Minecraft.

DO:

- ships (canons or not, heterosexual or homosexual, monogamous or polygamous);

- OCs;

- self-insert;

- AUs.

DON’T:

- NSFW;

- incest;

- pedophiilia;

- other things that might make me uncomfortable (we can exchange messages to check).

WANT TO COMMISSION A FIC?

- The value is fixed at $10 and the stories will have an approximate length of 1000 words (it can be a little less or a little more);

- Payment will be made via Ko-Fi only;

- To place an order, please send an email to benefics.en@gmail.com (to facilitate organization). Use direct messages and comments only to ask questions, please.

ATTENTION

- Commissions can take up to two weeks to be delivered. I work full time and my schedules are a complete mess.

- ONLY MAKE THE PAYMENT AFTER I CONFIRM THAT I WILL MAKE YOUR FANFIC! 

- Payment must still be made before I start writing, however, please do not send any money until I agree to your request.

DONATIONS ARE ALSO WELCOME!

If you don't want to ask for a fanfic, or if you don't have the conditions, but still want to help Amigos dos Peludinhos and our pets, you can also donate any amount. Even $1 will help a lot!

CAN’T DONATE?

I understand that sometimes it seems like there's nothing we can do to help, but there's still something you can try: please share this post on your social media, or in your fanfic groups, with your friends and family, and anyone else who might be interested in a good personalized story or simply helping animals.

If your heart also sinks when you see that fragile little animal abandoned to its fate in the streets, rummaging through garbage or running away from the rain, then you know how we feel.

So I ask please help me to help them!

[tzwriter]

BEFORE WRITING: Oh, this fic idea is so cute, and it won't take any time at all! WHILE WRITING: Oh...oh, no...I Underestimated this. Again.

[tzwriter]

UMA FOLGA PARA DREAM

Dream era um monstro ocupado. Muito ocupado. Como guardião da positividade, ele tinha o dever, a obrigação, de ajudar as pessoas a serem o mais felizes possível. Por esse motivo, ele estava sempre viajando de universo em universo ajudando a todos, ou levando alegria aos moradores da Ômega Timeline, principalmente aos que tinham perdido tudo, ou lutando contra seu irmão e sua gangue, que insistiam em causar caos e destruição toda vez que saíam do esconderijo deles.

Ele não tinha a menor ideia de como era possível que ele estivesse ali então, sentado sobre um pequeno morro de grama, em um bosque tranquilo, observando o rio correr lá embaixo, sem nenhuma preocupação. 

Ink estava nadando e brincando sozinho como uma criança hiperativa. Às vezes, o artista olhava para ele e acenava animadamente para mostrar como estava se divertindo.

– A ÁGUA ESTÁ ÓTIMA! – Ele garantiu com um grito que perdeu volume com a distância, mas não a energia.

– Você não quer mesmo entrar? – Blue perguntou abraçado ao seu lado.

Ele era tão pequeno que Dream queria apertá-lo até seus ossos se entrelaçarem e nunca mais soltarem. Ele também não sabia como teve a sorte de ter um parceiro tão adorável.

– Aqui é melhor – ele falou suavemente, esfregando sua bochecha sobre o topo da cabeça do menor.

Blue riu baixinho, fazendo borboletas dançarem no estômago inexistente do guardião. 

– Mueh heh heh.

– Você quer ir nadar? – Dream também ofereceu. Ele sabia quanta energia havia em Blue. O guerreiro era um dos poucos que conseguia acompanhar Ink em seus jogos.

– Hum… Talvez depois. Aqui realmente é melhor – Blue concordou, virando o rosto brevemente para pressionar seus dentes contra os do outro.

Um rubor amarelo cobriu a face de Dream, causando outra risadinha em Blue.

– Você é tão fofo – ele provocou.

Dream desviou o olhar embaraçado e respondeu com um bico.

– Você que é. 

Um último riso escapou de Blue antes deles voltarem a contemplar o farfalhar das folhas e a perturbação da água causada por Ink.

Dream adorava levar felicidade a todos. Mas nada o deixava mais feliz do que ter seus melhores amigos e seu parceiro contentes ao seu lado.

⭐_____________🌮

Esta mini-fic foi inspirada por essa fanart de @xxspirit. Chequem lá! The Dreamberry pra todo lado!

Também estou recebendo pedidos de mini-fics como essa para ajudar os protetores de animais do meu bairro. São R$5. Quem tiver interesse pode entrar em contato comigo por DM. 

[tzwriter]

A BREAK FOR DREAM

Dream was a busy monster. Very busy. As the guardian of positivity, he had a duty, an obligation, to help people be as happy as possible. For that reason, he was always traveling from universe to universe helping everyone, or bringing joy to the Ômega Timeline’s inhabitants, especially those who had lost everything, or fighting against his brother and gang, who insisted on causing chaos and destruction wherever they left their hideout.

So he had no idea how it was possible for him to be there, sitting on top of a small grassy hill, in a quiet wood, watching the river flow below, without any worries.

Ink was swimming and playing alone as a hyperactive child. Sometimes, the artist would look at him and wave excitedly to show how much fun he was having.

“THE WATER IS AMAZING!” He assured with a shout that lost volume with distance, but not energy.

“You really don't want to come in?” Blue asked, hugging his side.

He was so small that Dream wanted to squeeze him until their bones intertwined and never let go. He also didn’t know how he got so lucky to have such an adorable partner.

“It’s better here,” he said softly, nuzzling his cheek on top of the boy's head.

Blue chuckled softly, making butterflies dance in the guardian’s nonexistent stomach.

“Mueh heh heh.”

“Do you want to go swimming?” Dream also offered. He knew how much energy there was in Blue. The warrior was one of the few who could keep up with Ink in his games.

“Um… Maybe later. It really is better here,” Blue agreed, turning his face briefly to press his teeth against the other’s.

A yellow flush covered Dream's face, causing another giggle from Blue.

“You’re so cute,” he teased.

Dream looked away in embarrassment and replied with a pout.

“You’re more.”

One last chuckle escaped Blue before they turned back to contemplating the rustle of leaves and the rush of water caused by Ink.

Dream loved to bring happiness to everyone. But nothing made him happier than having his best friends and his partner happy by his side.

⭐_____________🌮

This tiny fic was inspired by...

I’m also doing commissions writing tiny fics like this one to help the animal protector from my neighborhood. It’s R$5. If you’re interested, please, DM me.

[tzwriter]

DUSTARD IN THE RAIN

When Red passed Waterfall, he kinda expected to see Dust in one of the rainy caves, even though the rest of the gang had just left.

Underfell, as his universe was called, had a good relationship with the Nightmare’s Gang – not exactly friendly, but one of mutual tolerance: his universe provided negative energy and supplies, and Nightmare filtered out the excess negativity that was driving the local monsters crazy. At times, both parties fought, but Dust didn't seem worried about being ambushed, left in a lonely, faraway corner, seemingly distracted by a rain of problems. Hehe.

“I was wondering, isn't there a shower in your boss's castle? You're always here to take a bath” Red mocked as he stopped beside the skeleton, covering him with a yellow umbrella.

“Don’t you have anything better to do?” Dust mumbled without even looking up from his feet.

“I’m on my smoke break” Red held up the umbrella with gravity magic as he lit a cigarette and took a deep drag. “You’ll want?” He picked up the umbrella again, making sure it covered the hooded skeleton, even though he was getting wet. 

Dust finally looked up to him, one eye completely red, and the other, with an extra blue ring. Proof that he was stressed, although that wasn’t a surprise, Red thought, pretending not to notice his own worry.

After a brief wait, Dust’s hand deliberately went into the pocket of his shorts and pulled out a cigarette from the package plus a lighter. He lit it, took a deep breath and blew out a big, dark column of smoke.

“Are you going to stand there forever?” He asked, this time contemplating the eco-flowers in the distance.

Sitting on the puddled floor didn’t look pleasant to Red. Even so, he smiled and joined the other, letting their shoulders brush and keeping the umbrella between them.

Neither of them said anything else, only enjoying the calming sound of the rain, the heady smell of cigarettes, and each other’s strangely comforting company.

🚬____________🚬

This tiny fic was inspired by this amazing fanart from @feeeeeeebeeee9 (Twitter). Go check it! I'm sure you will love it!  😍

Also, I'm writing tiny fics to earn money to help the animal protectors from my neighborhood to keep their rescue work. If you want to help, you can ask for a tiny fic for R$5. Just send me a DM first. 😊

[tzwriter]

DUSTARD NA CHUVA

Quando Red passou por Waterfall, ele meio que esperava ver Dust em uma das cavernas chuvosas, mesmo que o resto da gangue tivesse acabado de partir.

Underfell, como seu universo era chamado, tinha uma boa relação com a gangue de Nightmare – não era exatamente uma relação amigável, mas de benefício mútuo: seu universo provia energia negativa e suprimentos, e Nightmare filtrava o excesso da negatividade que vinha deixando os monstros loucos por ali. Às vezes as duas partes entravam em conflito, mas Dust não parecia preocupado em ser emboscado, largado em um canto afastado e solitário, parecendo distraído com uma chuva de problemas. Hehe.

– Eu estava me perguntando, não há chuveiro no castelo do seu chefe? Você sempre para aqui para tomar um banho – Red zombou parando ao lado do esqueleto, cobrindo-o com um guarda-chuva amarelo.

– Você não tem nada melhor pra fazer? – Dust murmurou sem sequer desviar os olhos dos seus pés. 

– Estou na minha pausa do cigarro – Red sustentou o guarda-chuva com magia de gravidade enquanto acendia um e deu uma profunda tragada. – Vai querer? – Ele voltou a segurar o guarda-chuva, cuidando para que cobrisse bem o encapuzado, mesmo que ele acabasse se molhando.

Dust finalmente ergueu os olhos pra ele, um completamente vermelho, o outro com um anel extra azul. Prova de que ele estava estressado, embora isso não fosse surpresa, Red pensou, fingindo não perceber sua própria preocupação.

Após uma pequena espera, a mão de Dust se enfiou deliberadamente no bolso de seu short e pegou um cigarro do maço mais um isqueiro. Ele acendeu, deu um longo trago e soltou uma grande e escura coluna de fumaça. 

– Você vai ficar em pé aí? – Ele perguntou, dessa vez contemplando as flores ecos a distância. 

Sentar no chão empoçado não parecia agradável para Red. Mesmo assim, ele sorriu e se juntou ao outro, deixando seus ombros se esbarraram e mantendo o guarda-chuva entre eles.

Nenhum dos dois disse mais nada, apenas aproveitaram o som calmante da chuva, o cheiro inebriante dos cigarros e a companhia estranhamente reconfortante um do outro.

🚬____________🚬

Esta mini-fic foi inspirada nessa fanart incrível de @feeeeeeebeeee9 (Twitter). Chequem lá! Tenho certeza de que vão amar!  😍

Também estou escrevendo mini-fics para juntar dinheiro para ajudar os protetores de animais do meu bairro a continuarem fazendo os resgates. Se quiser, pode pedir por uma mini-fic por R$5. É só me mandar uma DM.  😊

[tzwriter]

DANCING IN THE ANTIVOID

Error was becoming used to Ink’s presence and he had no idea if this was a good thing or a bad thing. Most of the time, the artist just showed up to annoy him during his Undernovela. Other times, the two even spend some nice and quiet hours together, each of them enjoying their own hobbies.

But there were times when Error didn’t know what to think.

“ERROR! ERROR!” Ink appeared out of nowhere, as usual, yelling and waving his arms effusively.

“I’m bUsy, InK” the destroyer grumbled, taking his eyes off the window he was using to watch his show for a brief second. That was one of the best episodes! So much drama! So much action!

“You watched this one a lot of times. I want to show you something!” Ink didn’t care at all and stopped between him and the window, reaching out his hand and shaking it anxiously.

Error let out an exasperated sigh and leaned to the side to see past the artist.

“CaN yOu JUsT dIsaPPeAr?! YoU aRe boTHeriNG Me!”

“Stop being boring. It will be quick!”

“IT's NeVer qUIck!”

Despite complaining, Error knew he couldn’t win that fight without literally starting a battle, which would also prevent him from continuing to watch his precious episode. Whatever, Frisk should reset the world soon, and Error would be able to watch everything again anyway.

Defeated, the destroyer look up to Ink, expecting to see some stupid drawing or other piece of art, but no, Ink just had his hand held out to him, wide as a clear signal for him to grab it.

“WhAt dO yOu wANt?” Error asked hesitantly.

“You’ll need to get up!” Ink ordered, shaking his hand once more, and Error decided to accept it  with a deep sigh.

Despite his terrible haphephobia, the destroyer no longer had as much problem touching Ink. At some moment, he got used with the artist’s proximity and with the bumps they often gave (in addition to all the shit they still exchanged from time to time). So holding his hand and being pulled up only left him tingling for a moment. However, he froze when Ink’s other hand suddenly landed on his back.

“W-WhAt aR-re yOU d-dOInG-g?” His tongue stuck when questioning.

“We, my friend, are going to waltz!” Ink declared proudly. “I just learned from Toriel, from Dancetale, obviously. It's pretty easy, even you should be able to do it. Put your hand on my back there, go.”

Swallowing hard, Error took a few seconds to adjust to the amount of contact he was suddenly exposed to. At least they weren’t glued together.

“I DoN’T liKe ThIs,” he growled, though he knew it was in vain.

“I bet you never danced before. Come on, just move with me. One, two, three. One, two, three. One, two, three. One, two, three.”

Ink led him back and forth across the nearly empty space of the antivoid, counting rhythmically, a little too fast. Error tried not to trip over his own feet for the first few laps. One, two, three. They stopped. One, two, three. They stopped. He soon got used to it, as it seemed that moving from one side to the other, rolling smoothly around the room, was the only thing Ink had learned.

Or so Error thought until the artist suddenly pulled away and attempted a spin. His excitement was too much, his hands slipped, and Ink fell backwards.

Long, stiff blue threads wrapped around the artist's arms, feet and torso as Error instinctively grabbed him and pulled him back. His hands came together again and their chests touched as Ink straightened up. Their faces were too close.

“Nice catch” Ink winked.

Error's face caught fire, and he shoved the artist back hard, throwing him on his ass, and staggering backwards.

“Ouch! What got into you?!” Ink was indignant.

“N-NoT-tHinG! I-Ff yOu aLR-reaDy shOWeD wH-hat YoU wAnT-tEd, G-gEt tHe hELl o-OUt Of hEre! I H-haVe mORe t-tO Do!” Error kept his back, trying to regain his composure so as not to get short-circuited.

“Oh, c’mon? It was fun! You just have to practice a little more,” Ink chuckled, and Error could hear him approaching. Panicking, he opened a portal.

“G-Go-o p-PraC-ctiCE yO-oUrseLF-f. I-I'm leAv-VINg.”

With that said, Error jumped into Outertale and quickly closed the portal before Ink went after him. Not that the artist couldn't just follow him anyway, but Error didn't want to think about that. He didn't want to think about Ink. He just wanted some peace, quiet and for the sensation of the artist's hands on his body to disappear as soon as possible.

🪡__________🖌

This tiny fic was inspired by this amazing fanart from @jianyang0311 (Twitter). Go check it! I'm sure you will love it! 😍

Also, I'm writing tiny fics to earn money to help the animal protectors from my neighborhood to keep their rescue work. If you want to help, you can ask for a tiny fic for R$5. Just send me a DM first. 😊

[tzwriter]

DANÇANDO NO ANTIVOID

Error estava se acostumando com a presença de Ink, e ele não tinha ideia se isso era bom ou ruim. Na maioria das vezes, o artista só aparecia para aborrecê-lo durante sua Undernovela. Outras vezes, os dois até passavam um tempo pacífico e agradável juntos, cada um entretido em seus próprios hobbies.

Mas tinha vezes que Error não sabia o que pensar.

– ERROR! ERROR! – Ink surgiu do nada, como de costume, gritando e agitando os braços efusivamente.

– EsToU oCUpAdo, INk – o destruidor resmungou, tirando os olhos rapidamente da janela por onde assistia sua novela. Aquele era um dos melhores episódios! Tanto drama! Tanta ação!

– Você já assistiu esse daí umas trinta vezes. Eu quero te mostrar uma coisa! – Ink não se importou nem um pouco e parou entre ele e a janela, estendendo uma mão e a balançando ansiosa.

Error bufou exasperado e se esticou para o lado para ver além do artista.

– QuER sUmIR dA mINhA vISta! VOCê EStá Me aTRApaLhANdO!

– Deixa de ser chato. Vai ser rapidinho!

– NUNca É raPIdiNHo!

Apesar da reclamação, Error sabia que não poderia vencer aquela luta sem, literalmente, começar uma batalha, o que, por sua vez, também o impediria de continuar assistindo seu precioso episódio. Tanto faz, Frisk resetaria o mundo daqui a pouco, e Error poderia assistir tudo de novo de qualquer jeito.

Derrotado, o destruidor ergueu o olhar para Ink, esperando ver algum desenho estúpido ou qualquer outro pedaço de arte, mas, não, Ink apenas tinha a mão estendida pra ele, bem aberta, em um claro sinal de que era para ele segurá-la.

– O QUe vOCê quER? – Ele perguntou hesitante.

– Você vai ter que se levantar! – Ink ordenou, balançando a mão mais uma vez, e Error decidiu aceitá-la com um suspiro profundo.

Apesar de sua terrível afefobia, o destruidor já não tinha mais tanto problema em tocar Ink. Em algum momento, ele se acostumou com a proximidade do artista e com os esbarrões que eles davam frequentemente (para além de toda a porradaria que ainda trocavam de vez em quando). Sendo assim, segurar sua mão e ser puxado para cima apenas o deixou formigando por um momento. Entretanto, ele congelou quando a outra mão de Ink, subitamente, pousou em suas costas.

– O-o Q-QuE vO-oCê eST-tÁ faZeND-Do? – Sua língua travou ao questionar.

– Nós, meu amigo, vamos dançar valsa! – Ink declarou orgulhosamente. – Acabei de aprender com Toriel, de Dancetale, óbvio. É bem fácil, até você deve conseguir. Coloca a mão nas minhas costas aí, vai.

Engolindo em seco, Error levou alguns segundos para se acostumar com a quantidade de contato a que ele estava, repentinamente, exposto. Pelo menos eles não estavam colados.

– Eu nÃo gOStO dISso – ele resmungou, embora soubesse que era em vão.

– Eu aposto que você nunca dançou antes. Vamos lá, é só se mover comigo. Um, dois, três. Um, dois, três. Um, dois, três. Um, dois, três.

Ink o conduziu de um lado para o outro do espaço praticamente vazio do antivoid, contando ritmicamente, um pouco rápido demais. Error tentou não tropeçar nos próprios pés nas primeiras voltas. Um, dois, três. Paravam. Um, dois, três. Paravam. Logo ele se acostumou, pois parecia que ir de um lado para o outro, rodando suavemente pelo salão, era a única coisa que Ink tinha aprendido.

Ou foi o que Error pensou até o artista se afastar subitamente e tentar um giro. Sua empolgação foi demais, suas mãos se soltaram, e Ink caiu para trás.

Longos e resistentes fios azuis se enrolaram nos braços, nos pés e no tronco do artista quando Error, instintivamente, o segurou firme e o puxou de volta. Suas mãos tornaram a se unir e seus peitos se tocaram quando Ink se endireitou. Seus rostos estavam perto demais.

– Bela pegada – Ink piscou um olho.

O rosto de Error pegou fogo, e ele empurrou o artista pra trás com força, jogando-o de bunda no chão, e cambaleando de ré.

– Au! O que deu em você?! – Ink se indignou.

– N-nADa! S-Se jÁ mOST-troU o q-QuE qu-UeRia, D-dê o FoRa dAqUI! Eu tENho MaiS o QuE fAzEr! – Error manteve-se de costas, tentando recuperar a compostura para não entrar em curto.

– Ah, qual é? Foi divertido! Você só tem que praticar mais um pouquinho – Ink riu, e Error pôde ouvi-lo se aproximando. Em pânico, ele abriu um portal.

– V-Vá pR-raTicAr V-voC-cê. E-Eu vOu eMB-boRa.

Dito isso, Error pulou para Outertale e fechou o portal rapidamente antes que Ink fosse atrás dele. Não que o artista não pudesse apenas segui-lo, de toda forma, mas Error não queria pensar naquilo. Ele não queria pensar em Ink. Ele só queria um pouco de paz, sossego e que a sensação das mãos do artista em seu corpo sumissem o mais rápido possível.

🪡__________🖌

Esta fic foi inspirada nessa arte linda feita por @jianyang0311 (Twitter). Chequem lá! Tenho certeza de que vão amar. 🥰

Também estou escrevendo mini-fics para juntar dinheiro para ajudar os protetores de animais do meu bairro a continuarem fazendo resgates. Se você também quiser ajudar, pode pedir por uma mini-fic por R$5. Só me mande uma mensagem primeiro, por favor. 😊

[tzwriter]

ALTERNATIVE ENCOUNTER

He didn’t care about many things at that point, however, he couldn’t ignore the little skeleton crying on the floor. The stranger was naked, abandoned in an endless white place where he himself was trapped for an indeterminate time.

He said nothing, too surprised to (finally) find someone else there. He didn’t need to announce his presence either. The hum of the glitches clinging to his body and clothes was enough to get the other’s attention.

“Who are you?” The tiny stranger asked trembling.

He didn’t know how to answer. Squinting his myopic eyes and gritting his teeth, he snapped back defensively.

“W-Who aRe you-u?” His voice sizzled and cracked like an eletronic with interference. He hated it.

The little one just sniffed and his eye sockets overflowed with new tears.

“I-I don’t know.”

His eyes widened and his annoyance disappeared in a second. He didn’t know?

The skeleton sat across from him on his knees and mumbled without looking at him, hands clenched on his femurs.

“I-I doN-n't kNOw E-eith-Her. W-Who I a-Am, I me-EAn.”

The smaller one blinked in surprise, stopping the stream of tears, then laughed softly, as if there was something good about finding someone like him there.

That was something he could understand.

__________

This fanfic was inspired by this fanart, which I not only couldn't discover whose it was (Google Images search failed me 😩), but I was also unable to find the place on Pinterest where I first saw it! 😭 If I hadn't taken a print, I would have thought it was my head's invention. If you know who the artist is, please to tell me in the comments.

🥰 Also, I'm writing fanfics to raise money to help animal protectors in my neighborhood continue their good work (I call it beneficsentz 😋). If you want to help too, you can commission me a tiny-fic by sending me a DM (I'll explain the details there), or make a donation on my Ko-Fi. 🥰

[tzwriter]

ENCONTRO ALTERNATIVO

Ele não se importava com muita coisa àquela altura do campeonato, entretanto, não conseguiu ignorar um pequeno esqueleto chorando no chão. O estranho estava nu, abandonado em um lugar branco interminável no qual ele mesmo estava preso há um tempo indeterminado.

Ele não disse nada, surpreso demais por encontrar (finalmente) mais alguém ali. Também não foi preciso anunciar sua presença. O zumbido dos bugs agarrados ao seu corpo e às suas roupas foram suficientes para despertarem a atenção do outro.

– Quem é você? – O pequeno estranho perguntou tremendo.

Ele não soube responder. Semicerrando os olhos míopes e trincando os dentes, ele vociferou defensivo:

– Q-Quem É voc-Cê? – Sua voz chiou e falhou como um eletrônico com interferência. Ele detestava isso.

O menor apenas fungou e suas órbitas transbordaram com novas lágrimas.

– E-eu não sei.

Seus olhos se arregalaram e sua irritação desvaneceu em um segundo. Ele não sabia?

O esqueleto se sentou diante dele sobre as pernas e murmurou sem olhá-lo, as mãos fechadas sobre os fêmures.

– E-eu taMb-béM nÃo S-sei. Q-quEm eU s-SOu, eu q-quE-ERo diz-zER.

O menor piscou surpreso, parando a torrente de lágrimas, então riu baixinho, como se houvesse algo de bom em encontrar alguém como ele ali.

Isso era algo que ele podia entender.

___________

Esta fanfic foi inspirada por essa fanart, a qual eu não só não consegui descobrir de quem que é (a ferramenta de busca do Google Imagens falhou comigo 😩), como eu ainda não consegui encontrar o lugar no Pinterest onde eu a vi pela primeira vez! 😭 Se eu não tivesse tirado print, pensaria que era invenção da minha cabeça. Se alguém souber quem é o artista, eu imploro que deixe nos comentários, por favor!

🥰 Além do mais, estou escrevendo fanfics para juntar dinheiro para ajudar os protetores de animais do meu bairro a continuarem o bom trabalho deles (chamo de beneficsentz 😋). Se quiser ajudar também, você pode encomendar uma mini-fic me mandando uma DM (explico os detalhes por lá), ou fazer uma doação pelo meu Ko-Fi. 🥰

[tzwriter]

Would be asleep right now, but there are Fictional Characters to imagine in emotional situations. You know how it is.

[tzwriter]

NO CHOCOLATE

Living with Nightmare and his gang, Tricks was getting used to the permanent state of chaos in their life. Despite this, they were still stunned when, waking up one morning, they found a commotion in the kitchen.

First of all, the kitchen was not a place for turmoil. The room was sacred to Horror and he would kick out with axes anyone who tried to disturb the serenity there.

However, the open-skull skeleton was in the living room with one hand tugging at his blind eye socket and teeth grinding in irritation. Dust was propped up next to him in a supportive way, watching a cooking show, clearly intending to soothe his friend.

Meanwhile, Killer was running up and down the kitchen, rummaging through cupboard after cupboard and slamming doors in frustration, only to come back a minute later and revolve through the stored groceries again, as if what he was looking for could have magically appeared there. 

Cross was there too, his head on the table, one arm supporting his skull, the opposite hand tracing desolate circles on the marble top. He was muttering to himself, unlike Killer, who was repeating frantically. “Where is it? Where is it? How did this happen?!”

“Uh… Cross? What happened this time?” Tricks questioned him, since when they addressed Horror, Dust gave them a death stare.

“The universe is cold and unfeeling. The only constant is chaos” he whined softly, without even looking at them.

Tricks frowned in confusion. Yes, he was right, that was why they were living with Nightmare after all, but...

“Why are you saying this?”

“Was this place out of chocolate again?” The guardian of negativity appeared at the door with a bored expression, although his tentacles revealed his level of annoyance.

“BOSS!!!” Killer abandoned his senseless search of the cabinets, and Cross nearly ran over Tricks leaving the table. They both got down at Nightmare's feet and begged. “We need an urgent mission!”

“Please allow me to open a portal to Underfell right now. Ten minutes will be enough for us to get the necessary supplies.”

“Ten minutes?! So we have to go back tomorrow, you idiot?!” Killer shouted, giving him an elbow. “We need all the chocolate we can get our hands on and we will need all hands to help us in this mission!”

“Tch! You’re right.”

Wow. Cross agreeing with Killer? That day got even more bizarre.

“That's enough, you two!” - Nightmare ordered firmly, attracting the attention of those present. “Go clean this kitchen! It’s chaotic here.”

“But what about the chocolate?” Killer whimpered.

“If you want to see any chocolate in this castle again, this and the other common rooms better be shining at the end of the night.”

“I like it,” Dust smirked, appearing next to Horror, who has an expression of pain mixed with bloodshot fury in his big red eye. Did he have a migraine again?

Killer’s shoulders slumped, but Cross rolled up his sleeves.

“Consider it done, boss. C’mon, Killer. As soon as we finish it, the faster we will have chocolate.”

“But!”

Killer couldn’t protest while he was dragged to the next-door room, where the cleaning supplies were.

“Horror, you will rest. Dust, supervise Killer and Cross. As long as you are not satisfied, they are not free,” determined Nightmare.

Horror grumbled in agreement, without strength to oppose his boss while Dust smiled sadistically. 

“Got it, boss. But know I am never satisfied.”

Nightmare just shrugged, his tentacles slithering onto Horror's shoulders and taking him with him. Stepping past Tricks, he commanded, snapping his fingers and opening a portal right there.

“You go to Underfell now, get as much chocolate as you can. And be quick. The more time passes, the more insufferable these two are over the damn candy.”

“Um…Okay…” Were they having a withdrawal? How long did they go without chocolate? Besides, Tricks haven't even had breakfast yet.

“TRICKS!!! BRING MY DARK CHOCO!!!” Killer pleaded, his head popping out of the other room with black liquid dripping from his eyes with vigor.

Cross also appeared, bucket and squeegee in hand, but with an urgent look in their direction. Tricks nodded, giving them a confident smile.

“Dark chocolate for Killer and milk chocolate for Cross. Noted! And do you want something too? They asked the rest of the gang.

“Meat,” Horror muttered sheepishly.

“Some strong drink,” Dust growled in their direction.

“A new book,” Nightmare thought for a second, causing Tricks to stifle a laugh. They were talking about food, but their boss was like a moth anyway.

“Count on me!” Was their simple answer before jumping through the portal, landing in a dark alley in New Home. Only when the opening to the space closed did they realize that, in the haste of the gang, they had left their backpack in their room, living behind their best inventory space.

Well, either Tricks would need to take it easy... Or they could just improvise a bigger inventory. Surely, they could find some decent bag in town.

Of course, it would be easier if they hadn't forgotten their mask too. Now they would have to fulfill their mission while being hunted for being a human in the Underground again.

What a chaotic morning that was.

━━━━━━━✦🍫✦ ━━━━━━━

Inspired by this “incorrect-quote”, de @flowerscentedartist. Their “incorrect-quotes” make me so happy! They are the perfect thing to read when I’m stressed and just have one minute to relax. 😌  

🥰 If you like my stories, please, consider to support me on Ko-Fi and ask a tiny fic! 🥰