The Most Striking Thing About Papyrus (aside From His Limitless Positivity) Is The Fact That It Is Literally

The most striking thing about Papyrus (aside from his limitless positivity) is the fact that it is literally impossible to die in a fight against him. Even Toriel, who starts purposefully missing you once your health gets low enough, can accidentally kill you, but Papyrus? It is literally impossible. Papyrus has incredible control over his power! Wow, what a great and impressive skeleton. And, even though he could probably deal some legit damage to you on the murder run, his only action is to spare you, because he’s heckin worried about this little emotionless murder child.

A lot of people like swap aus where Sans is the one that dies and Papyrus is forced to shed his naivete and face you going all-out, which makes sense, but also, Papyrus is just so. Papyrus. I feel like if Papyrus had to be the final murder-run boss, it’d be more like, “After losing Sans, the world seems like a different place. I can’t imagine what you must’ve gone through for you to see the world the way you do.”

He only has one attack, but it’s a really long one and powerful one (kind of like Sans’ before his ‘special attack’), plus he talks during it, which would be pretty distracting. whenever he gets your hp down to 1, combat automatically stops and you’re ejected back into the judgement room. if you try to talk to him without healing, he’ll just say you’re too hurt - a gust of wind could knock you over! after you heal at the conveniently placed save point and go back to fight him, he has stuff to say about how you don’t have to be alone, you don’t have to do this, you might think there isn’t any good in you and it’s too late to change, but there is and it isn’t! After a few of those, he’ll talk about Undyne and Sans, and they always tried to help him, even when they thought he wouldn’t notice. He’s got a ton of stories about that. After he says his piece there’s an option to either fight or don’t fight, and every time you pick fight he looks disappointed, but he goes all out. He’s always able to be spared.

if you survive his attack, he goes down in one hit. his last words would probably be an apology, even though he tried really hard he still couldn’t show you a better path

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Lostale Ch 3 - Day of Res-pie-te

Rather than delve into snail facts immediately, Toriel insisted on showing you the ruins. You acquiesced easily enough, willing to go along with whatever she wanted for what remained of the day. Despite the less-than-pleasant talk you two had just shared, Toriel seemed very excited to tour the ruins with you. You followed along just behind and beside Toriel as she led the way out of her home.

The first thing that had caught your eye had been the dark and empty branches of a tree, twisting and rising above a carpet of red leaves. Toriel had called it a ‘never-green tree’, and you’d felt that same quirk of humor that was beginning to arise more often. The name was a lot more accurate than ‘ever-red’, or even ‘ever-black’ – you stood there long enough to watch a leaf grow, already crimson red at its creation, before it soon lost its grip and broke away to join the pile of fallen debris below.

You wondered if that tree was the source of all the red leaves that were scattered in neat piles throughout the ruins, adding a touch of extra color to the entirely purple themed rooms. You spotted several Froggits playing amongst the leaves in one of the next rooms, with a cautious Whimsun fluttering nearby. When you stopped to watch, Toriel joined you. Within moments, the monsters you were watching had noticed, and began to shy away.

You turned away as well, with a slight pang in your heart at the rejection. Huh. You didn’t expect that to hurt. Why shouldn’t you have, though? Didn’t just about everything hurt these days? You continued on, not entirely sure where you were going as Toriel lingered behind for several more seconds. You both wound your way through the entirety of the ruins, from the rotating room to the rock puzzles to the crumbling floors.

Eventually, you reached the room where Flowey had confronted you. Toriel hesitated, but when you made no move to continue, she placed a hand on your shoulder before moving into the flower room. You simply sat on the grass, right before where Flowey had popped up. He didn’t appear, but that didn’t surprise you – he was likely wary with Toriel nearby, and the Flower wasn’t really the confrontational type, anyways. He was the sneaky follower type instead.

You did join Toriel in the flower room, Chara’s grave. She was tending to the flowers when you approached, and you knelt down to assist her. There was silence for several minutes, before she slowly began telling you her tale. She talked about her children, her firstborn son and her only child by birth, and the seven other children she had cared for as her own. You silently noted that you would indeed be the seventh soul – the eighth human to fall.

You spared a moment to wonder what would happen with Frisk; had you replaced them, or just fallen before them? You let the thought linger as you listened, Toriel telling tales of her children’s antics.

You heard about how her son had the kindest soul, always willing to stop and help another. You heard about how her first human child was wary, unable to trust anyone but her son who had found them and supported them when they were injured. You heard about how her second human child had been quiet; always willing to listen and wait before doing anything or making any judgements. You heard about her third human child, who was brash and headstrong, following his heart without pausing to think about the danger. You heard about her fourth human child, who loved to dance and threw her entire soul into the display without any artifice. You heard about her fifth human child, who was endlessly fascinated by this new land and wouldn’t stop until he’d learned about everything he could discover. You heard about her sixth human child, who had eagerly learned any recipes they could from Toriel and then shared the results with any nearby monsters. You heard about her seventh human child, who had felt a profound sense of what was wrong and right within the world and set about ‘fixing’ that wherever he could.

You heard about her eighth human child, who felt broken but had a soul big enough for the entire Underground. You thought that was an interesting description for Frisk…before you remembered that Toriel hadn’t met Frisk. You had frozen, staring up at Toriel with wide eyes, all else momentarily forgotten. Her smile was soft and sad as she abandoned her own flowers to lean over, engulfing you in another hug.

The world was warm within her love, overflowing and reaching out to you. “You said that you are not a child,” she breathed into your hair, “but know that I shall always treasure you as my child. Even if this is the only time we have,” she broke off, “I want you to know how much it means to me.”

You were confused, lost, and hurting. Why was she doing this, saying this? You’d broken down before her, she knew you were broken, and she’d known you for less than a day. Why was she claiming you as her own? Why was she setting herself up for heartache? You’d already hurt her, unintentionally and unfortunately intentionally; why was she only setting herself up for more hurt?

You were still lost as she pulled you to your feet, standing herself. She kept your hand within hers as you began the steady trek back to her home. You expected her to let go when you reached the long corridor to prove your independence, but all she did was hold your hand tighter. You made it through all the puzzles, even managing to lead slightly through the spike bridge and cracked floor maze. Toriel hadn’t seemed keen on you leading, but she let you try – at those times, her grip on your hand seemed to be far more for her benefit than for yours.

Still, you didn’t encounter any monsters willing to confront either of you the entire way back. When you reached the entryway of the house, Toriel finally let go of your hand. “Please, explore the upper floors while I make us some food.” Her smile felt sad as she led you to the hallway, stopping before the first door. “For the time that you are here… you may consider this your room.” It was the room you’d woken up in, the room she would give to Frisk.

You reached out, giving Toriel a half-hug, before heading into the child’s room. She did not join you, instead heading back the hallway, and presumably to the kitchen. You felt exhausted, drained emotionally and physically, and simply dropped onto the bed. You sat there for several moments, not sure what to do. Slowly, you toed off your shoes, and lay back above the blankets. You stared emptily at the blank ceiling, thoughts mulled and indecipherable. You eventually closed your eyes, letting the darkness behind your eyelids echo the darkness within your mind and soul.

Dark…darker…yet darker; the faintest flicker of amusement threatened to rise at the fitting quote. Emptiness quickly quashed that emotion, and you wandered adrift, floating in a sea of denial. You could have remained there; safe from the hurts of the world, but once more a voice came to interrupt you. The sound was accompanied by a scent, unfamiliar but pleasant all the same.

Grudgingly, you dragged yourself back to the real world. Surprisingly, you even still had the energy to spare for opening your eyes, sending the darkness away until you next returned. Toriel was sitting on the bed, a plate carefully held in one hand. “Child?” she called worriedly.

The desire to not cause her any more worry gave you the motivation to rise, until you were sitting cross-legged on the bed facing her. When you moved, she smiled, and once you settled she offered out the plate. You took it carefully, unwilling to dirty the bed with crumbs.

It was a golden pie, and you realized that you knew what the scent was: butterscotch and cinnamon. You felt something rise unbidden in your chest. “I did not know which you preferred more, butterscotch or cinnamon…” Toriel began, shifting slightly. “So I used them both to create this pie. I do hope that you enjoy it.” She smiled, warm but wary, as if expecting another painful blow from you.

You felt tears gather in your eyes as you take a bite. The slice is still warm from Toriel’s fire magic, and you can taste the care and love that went into its creation. It has to be because of the magic that created it – you can actually feel the emotions poured into the food. Warmth, care, safety, concern, happiness, sadness; a promise – you choke, tears starting to overflow as the gentle emotions are pressed upon you. It’s painful, so extraordinarily painful, but it’s the most beautiful pain you’ve ever felt. The taste of cinnamon and butterscotch swirled on your tongue, sweet with enough to spice it up.

“I love it,” you choke, and have to set down the plate to wipe your eyes once more. “I love it…” you sob, as the emotions linger. You force yourself to take another bite, and bite back another sob at the renewed force of feelings. You see hands reaching out to take the plate away, and you desperately pull it back towards you, protecting it. The hands pause, retreat, and you feel a weight settle on your shoulder, pulling you into a hug without dislodging either you or the pie.

Toriel let you cry as you ate, and you could feel a similar warmth emanating from her as you could from the pie. The love that this woman could feel was unbelievable, overwhelming, and you didn’t know how to comprehend or respond to it.

Eventually, you finished, and the two of you sat together in silence for several moments before she began talking. “Oh dear… if this was your response to cinnamon and butterscotch, perhaps it is a good thing that I did not make snail pie.” You can’t help your quiet laugh, but you privately imagine that you would be almost just as torn up inside even if the pie Toriel baked had a more…questionable taste. “Pie believe that it may be best saved for another day.” You couldn’t stop yourself from cracking up, barely believing the pun she’d just made. Her eyes were sparkling as she continued, “I shell just have to wait.” You let out an undignified snort, amusement rising unfettered.

“Toriel, I believe that you butter stop now before you hurt yourself.” You giggle along with Toriel, even as you wonder why your heart feels so light. “These puns are barely half-baked.” That was so horrible, but you both are laughing like it’s the best joke you’ve heard in years.

“Do you know any batter ones, then?” You snicker, but shake your head.

“No, but I’m sure I can cook up a few more jokes anyways.” You should be ashamed of yourself, but all you can feel is happiness. It’s weird, being happy once more.

As you continue to trade jokes with Toriel, you feel another powerful emotion rising up. It isn’t one of your normal negative feelings, still blocked from you by the magical power of Toriel’s pie, love, and bad jokes. No – instead, you’re determined to find more happiness for Toriel.

For just a moment, you felt the world grow clear, and you know that you’ll remember this moment forever. The happiness of trading laughs with someone who sincerely loves bad jokes, the peace from spending time with someone who cares about you very much… it filled you with Determination.

You blink, and Toriel reels off one last pun before she leaves, taking the plate with her and humming as she goes. Something completely foreign had just happened, and you didn’t know what it was. The empty room sapped at your strength and your emotions, and you suddenly felt hollow, worn out and tired. You’d just expended a great deal of energy, after all. Keeping up with Toriel had been no joke.

You wanted to go back to sleep, but instead, you headed out to the sitting room. You had a limited amount of time to spend with Toriel, after all. She was sitting in her comfortable little chair, book in her lap, and you curled up on the floor beside her.

The fire magic from the fireplace warmed you as you listened to her speak, reading softly of snail facts. Every so often a small smile or frown flickered across your face, but you just sat there with your eyes closed, trying to soak up as much of the warmth radiating out as you could while you were able. It was oddly comfortable, and you drifted, half there and half within the void of your mind.

It was a delicate peace, and one destined to break, but it lasted through the rest of the evening. It even followed you to bed, as you and Toriel parted ways for the night and you slipped into slumber. It didn’t last long after that, the balance tipping back towards the darkness that supported you with its emptiness. There was no one to hurt you, no one to be hurt by; no one was supposed to be here, so there could be no one missing when they weren’t there.

You let yourself be vulnerable, open, with the darkness shielding you. You felt protected here, and you let that lull you into deeper sleep, deeper depths of darkness, deeper into the void…

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This artist is amazing, and the story is flowing incredibly so far, and I absolutely love the artwork, but... I nearly dropped my phone in surprise/terror when their eyes opened. Holy crap. ...this is not a bad thing. Just a, "I was not prepared for the level of emotion this invoked" thing. Wow. That said, I'm a veeery curious as to what's about to happen. I don't exactly have many followers (for good reason), but, um... I'd you can see this post, you should really go read the story so far!

Sondertale: Prologue - Part 10

Start from the beginning of the prologue here!

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WEEE’RRREEE HEREEEEEE <3 I’ve been dyinggg to get to this part since before I knew what I was gonna call this comic :) Gotta make that 100th panel count, ya know? Speaking of, don’t forget that the 100+ Follower/100th Panel surprise is happening! You can read more about it here: CLICK MEH Thanks again for all of your kindness and support! I hope you continue to enjoy the comic! *does my best*

This is so beautiful. Imagining the repercussions of this, written in true Esama style… The company of Bilbo Baggins! I can’t wait to see his plans… Now, when we see elves, does everyone know they’re part? Yes, Thorin, you may subtly antagonize -yes, subtly! You’re a king, for goodness sakes! I know Dwalin gets to be more blunt, thank you, he is your guard and ill-inclined to like anyone! No, you don’t get to - look, all of you, just keep your lips shut and I’ll get us out of there and away from elves all the quicker, all right? … …I’m imagining something better than that, but I’m not Esama, so I can’t verbalize it like she could ^_^

Critical Thinking

Bilbo sat staring listlessly at the stone trolls, seriously rethinking his life and decisions of late, and his commitment to Thorin’s Company.

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Let’s Try This Again

So, after many failed resolutions to write more and post more and be more open... here I am again, once more fired up and ready to send off a flurry of posts. To anyone that’s following me (aside from what I can only assume are ad accounts, because what the heck???) which is only a very few people (and I’m sure you all rock!) here’s what’s going to blow up on my account.

So, I’ve been reblogging a few Undertale posts lately - and Pokemon Go, because...well, it’s Pokemon go! That’s about all I’ve been writing for since before summer began. At this point, I have over 50 pages of stories in scattered bits and pieces... and I’m going to start posting them. I don’t know how many will end up being added, but I’m going to try my best...just in case anyone cares. Even if no one cares... I’m hoping that someday, someone will. Failing that, I’m posting them for myself, because... well, I’m probably the only person who’ll read this anyways.

Um. Sorry. I’ll stop taking up space on any dashboards and just get to posting Undertale content. I hope no one minds if it’s not very long, yet? If I ever get encouragement to continue, I’d be absolutely thrilled to. On that note, I’m willing to answer pretty much anything. I’ll have to figure out how first, because I never have been asked, but... okay?

And I’m already panicking over this. Yay.