Match Maker - Tumblr Posts

100% honest when I read your reply I had a full moment (laughing, squealing, tears; the works.) in my work brake room. Thank You So Much @tyranttortoise!! Also Sorry! I didn't mean for you to put in extra work, or make things unfair. I wasn't expecting such a response. I really just wanted to tell a bit of a story to make it fun to read. I've always felt that life events are so hard, both in a emotional & practical sense, to put into just a few sentences. Even for a match up. How do you describe that one little thing made such an impact that it echos in your thoughts, memories, soul? You can't list every event that shaped you but you can elude to what came after that change. How you harden, softened, healed, broke. I wanted everyone who saw this to really see my soul and feel like they were there. Listening in dark as each soul is viewed and given a match. Thank You again @tyranttortoise for the match-up. It's so wonderful what you do for all your followers. 💜

P.s. so sorry for all the spelling and grammer frick ups. I had 3 hours and did the whole write up on my phone due to keyboard issuies with my laptop.

@sierraseas submitted: The soul before you is definitely human. Purple Perseverance is the main trait, clearly. Though the edges of the soul look scuffed in dimmed Kindness Green.

“Hardened in Kindness.” A voice drifts around you in the ask void.

“I had to re-learn how to be kind. I wouldn’t couldn’t let them take that away from me too.” Three gray fingertips brush, just barely, against a topmost curve of the soul. Then retreat back into the void.

“It shines the brightest in the dark.” The voice says next to you.

“Might just be a Perseverance thing?” The soul spins like a top. “Or maybe all souls do better with nothing else to outshine them.” The soul slows back to it’s idling state.

“I can’t say for sure. I’ve never seen another soul. Truth be told I’ve never even seen my own until now. You’d know better than me.” You clear your throat.

“Right,” The voice says. It sounds they had stepped closer to the soul.

“I’m here to tell you about it. Strange isn’t that? I’ve never seen it before and yet I know what each color means; how every crack happened.” The voice is further away. Gray fingers of one hand appear in the purple glow of the soul hovering over each mark tracing their patterns.

“ It wasn’t the trait I was born with.” The voice whispers.

“Perseverance I mean. I wasn’t born with it.”

There’s a child under the soul. Chubby cheeked with mousey brown hair sticking every which way, smiling show casing every tooth kind of smile, with hands pressed over their eyes. 2 or 3 years old if you had to guess by the height.

“I remember an overall dress and the last step on the porch. A gravel road and a sea of yellow. Stinging pain, red palms, the taste of salt.” The voice seems faint.

“Sierra, get up. Come on now; You’re a big girl.”

“I wanted help. It hurt. I just wanted to see where he was going. I tripped in the driveway.”

“Get up. You can do it. What happens when we fall down?”

“We get up.” The voice says back to the memory.

“Seas Never Give Up. We Keep Going.

Keep Going.

Keep Going!

Keep Going!!

Keep Going!!!

Keep Going!!!!”

You Can’t Give Up!“ The voice is screaming.

“Not Yet, Not Now, Not Ever!” The soul flashes bright brilliant purple.

“ Adapt and Over Come. Wait them out. You will outlast them. That’s what Perseverance is like. Looking at the obstacle and knowing come hell or high water you Will Make It.”

The child is gone. You can hear the voice panting. The soul is still shining so bright you can see the outline of its owner. Gray hands cupped around the bottom.

“ That day was the start of years of having to hold on. My Perseverance is a learned trait. I made it into a dangerous trait. I’d need it in the years to come. Otherwise, I’d never have survived the first crack.”

The soul comes back to it’s dim glow.

“She was an Okay Mom,” The voice continues.

“But a terrible person.” Their fingers trace a crack.

“ A cheater, manipulater…abuser.” They whisper.

“She was preferable to what came next.

On her 3rd marriage and 4 boyfriend she lost us for the drugs.

Grandpa was old fashioned; that’s putting it nicely. An alcoholic to boot.

We were nothing but a drain on their retirement fund. They never let us forget it 

The only good thing I can say is at least they don’t carry any physical scars.I made sure of that.” The voice sighs softly. Fingers tracing a different branch of dark cracks.

“In those 3 years I lost more pieces of myself then I’ll ever admit to. It should have breed hate. I should hate them for what they did. My siblings do.” The voice gets watery.

“But I couldn’t, I can’t.” The fingers brush back over the green edges of the soul.

“I promised someone a long time ago that I wouldn’t let them take away what made me reach out to lost souls.” The voice laughs.

“They told me Kindness was a choice. The ability to see pain, loss, loneliness even in those hiding it and reach out.” The fingers pull back and you can feel pressure against your shoulder as if someone was leaning into you.

“He died; trying to give me a life where I could make my own choices. He asked that I keep going. Never stop helping people. To find someone who will make me smile and dance again, who wants to see my dreams come true just as much as I do.” A hand wraps around yours.

“So who do you think?” The voice asks.

________________________________

the tortoise’s two cents:  I’ve been waiting to get to this one because the way it was written literally gave me chills and made me feel like I was standing in the Void, staring at the SOUL, listening to happened to bring it to this point.   

So, I hope you won’t mind if I answer this one a little differently than the others.

—————–

———–

—–

“Who do I think?” the tortoise echos, staring mesmerized at the brilliant purple of the SOUL.  Her chest clenched; there was so much pain there, so many cracks that were held together by a need to survive, that acquired trait that screamed to just keep going no matter what.  

Her hand squeezes yours back, offering you reassurance, as a small smile curves her lips.   “I think… he’s the one.”

And suddenly, the tortoise is gone, leaving you with the fading warmth in your palm.  Footsteps approach in the darkness, the sounds of someone with a casual, meandering stride, and when the person reaches the edge of the light radiating from your SOUL –

– Swapfell Papyrus’s features come into view.

Rus is smoking a dog treat, vermilion eyelights scanning your SOUL with nonchalance, as if this isn’t one of the most intimate moments you’ll ever have – bearing your very SOUL to another.  Wisps of smoke curl around his face, framing it with the very color that shines so bright from you.  

“welp, it’s damaged.”  His gaze shifts toward you, and you feel as if he can make out your features in the darkness; he seems to be looking you directly in the eye.  “anyone weaker, an’ their very soul would’ve shattered, but yours’s still in one piece.  they healed?”  A skeletal digit reaches out and barely skims the surface of your SOUL, causing it to flinch and pull back, closer to you.  He shrugs ever-so-slightly.  “guess not.  an’ yet it’s still glowin’ that bright?  darlin’, you’re a hell of a fighter.”

His expression shifts, a smirk curving his fangs, and he takes one final drag of the dog treat.  He can relate to that – to having his own SOUL cracked and nearly broken, to almost falling down, to clinging to that need to keep going.  Monsters couldn’t have Determination, but they could have plenty of Perseverance.  

He’s not looking at you or your SOUL anymore; no, it feels like he’s looking through you, like he’s seeing something or hearing something within your SOUL.  He shakes his head once, to clear it, and then offers his hand.

“c’mon, darlin’.  let’s go somewhere that isn’t here.”  He waits, patiently, keeping his hand out as you regard it.  After another beat, a boney brow raises. “are you waitin’ for me to crack a joke, buddy?”

There’s so much hidden beneath the smirk he puts on; you can see the pain, the loss, the role he’s been forced into to Persevere and endure.  Beneath all of that, you can see a faint green glow, that Kindness and sacrifice that he reserves for those closest to him. 

You reach out. 

As soon as you take his hand, the color returns to your skin.  Your SOUL merges back with your body, the bright light dissipating at the same time that the darkness recedes.  You can see him clearly now, his laid-back smirk surprisingly gentle, and as he guides you away, you hear a new voice speak from somewhere – one with a low, baritone murmur.  

“you’re safe now, darlin’.”

—————–

———-

While you’re with Rus, the cracks in your SOUL are likely to begin to fill with Integrity and possibly Justice if you spend a significant amount of time with his brother.  The shell of Kindness is only going to become even brighter; it’s an aspect Rus needs – and something you deserve.

*I’m no longer accepting SOUL submissions.