that liquid guilt is on my lips, i'm wasted on you [ZIA'S 100 ONESHOT CHALLENGE]

these one-shots so far include:

-youtubers (ships: jacksepticeye/markiplier, troye sivan/connor franta)
-undertale (ships: sans/adult!frisk, chara/frisk)
-fullmetal alchemist (ships: roy/riza)
-glee (ships: kurt/blaine)
-welcome to night vale (ships: cecil/carlos)
-ocs (ships: solardust/ebbingcolors, winona/westley)

because i'm trash <3 there will be a lot of spoilers in these oneshots, so look out!

also, the little sparkly thing i use at the top of each oneshot is made by jelly da boss, and the template is made by aloyrixs!

[align=center]✧.° god that was strange to see you again, introduced by a friend of a friend

[fancypost bgcolor=; borderwidth=0px; bordercolor=; width: 325px;][justify][B]THEME 1: INTRODUCTIONS[hr]
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[justify]So far, introductions had been awfully strange for the fallen human.

First there was Flowey the flower. He had attempted to murder them. I'm guessing you can tell why Frisk disliked the golden-petaled monster now.

Second off on a higher note, there was Toriel- or, as Frisk more fondly called her, goat mom- who was the sweetest monster the sweater-clad child had ever encountered. She had saved them from the evil flower they had first met. Despite how they loved and respected the goat monster, they were unfortunately forced to leave her alone in the Ruins because they were selfish as all hell; the guilt was still pricking at Frisk's mind as they walked the snowy streets of Snowdin Town. Actually, thinking about it now, perhaps that prickling was the cold. Frisk stuffed their hands into their shorts pockets, regretting wearing short pants in the first place.

Anyways, next up there was Sans the skeleton. Well, their friendship had begun with a real 'bang,' if you will. More like a fart, but whatever. Close enough. Yeah, the skeleton had pranked the * out of them, and it was kind of annoying, but also sort of amusing. The two of them had become friends fast, exchanging puns and lame jokes whenever they got the chance. Sometimes they were interrupted by the skeleton's brother, but Frisk didn't mind that much.

Speaking of him, Papyrus was quite the individual as well. Very friendly. Like... very. Turns out he was mainly aiming to capture them when they first met, but Sans was there to keep them safe from harm. Plus, as Frisk had learned, it wasn't like Papyrus even had the ability to hurt them. Frisk liked the taller skeleton. He was kind and had a scarf that was fun to play with, and easy to steal. Sometimes the child would snatch it and let the the tall skeleton chase them around, grabbing at it. But even still, Papyrus wasn't annoyed with the human. He enjoyed it just as much as Frisk did, which was a relief because Frisk did these silly things a lot.

So, as Frisk had discovered, things in the Underground were actually much less horrifying than they had been told on the surface. And, surprisingly... Frisk liked it here. For some reason, they didn't want to go back. It was strange for them, since they had left the Ruins in order to find a way back to the 'Overground' if you will, in the first place.

Perhaps they just needed to take the time to introduce themself to the Underground to get a proper grip on what this whole new world was like, the human realized as they wandered the icy streets. Well, in that case, Frisk would offer plenty of their time to the cause.

For now, they would stay and truly uncover what this land beneath the soil was like. And they would relish every moment of it as if it was their last day upon the Earth.

502 words
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[align=center]✧.° things fall apart so easily, break away at the seams

[fancypost bgcolor=; borderwidth=0px; bordercolor=; width: 325px;][justify][b]THEME 2: COMPLICATED[hr]
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[justify]Sans and Frisk's relationship was... well... very complex and confusing.

You see, once upon a time, beneath the surface, in the Underground the monsters had once called home, before Frisk freed them from their prison, the human had made a choice out of pure curiosity- instead of living happily with their boyfriend and step-mother and friends, they would murder everyone.

They partly blamed their heartless decision on the damned flower they had met- the one that they had saved from his lonely home stuck in the Underground along with the other monsters. They freed him too. He had been their friend at some point. They potted him or put him in the garden and he did whatever it was he found fun, and also antagonized the human. But they didn't mind. They found him funny more than anything.

Anyways, Frisk had basically killed all of their friends and loved ones for their own morbid fascination in what the outcome would be. And after about one or two days of fun, they were halted by a certain skeleton they were honored to once called their beloved- their lazybones, their sweetheart, their dearest. And he killed them over and over again.

Chara had teased him for being exactly like them- a cruel beast. Sans couldn't say he disagreed, to be honest.

One morning the two of them awoke in the same house. They both forgot that Papyrus had moved out to live with his boyfriend, Mettaton a few days ago. It was strange, not waking up to him scowling about how lazy Sans was and how weird Frisk was for loving him. They were so caught up in that routine that they truly didn't believe anymore that things could change so easily.

Frisk pulled themselves out of bed, their mind still bogged and haunted by memories of last night's bad dream- slashing Toriel when she was most weak, and finally setting the final stab upon Undyne's flesh until she bled out, desperately pressing against her wounds in an attempt to pull through. But she had no chance of survival, and Chara had been all too happy about that when they were in control during that one cursed route they had taken.

Sans rolled off his bed a few minutes after the human he shared a residence with, heart pounding from a nightmare he had had. Frisk dropping their blade and crying out with relief and affection, a genuine smile gracing their cute, childish face. They had ran at him, arms open wide to wrap them around him when suddenly they were pierced from behind by sharpened bones. They fell into his arms and he held them tight, whispering sweet nothings into their ears, tears trailing down his bare cheeks.

He would never forgive himself for that.

The two of them happened to exit their rooms at the same time, and their eyes met. Sans stared straight into Frisk's beautiful doe eyes- they were so much older than they were in his dream, it seemed as if they were not the same person. But they were, and that sent a pang of misery into Sans's heart. He was a creature of destruction and anger, and he hated himself for it as he gazed directly at his beloved- the one he had murdered mercilessly over and over.

And Frisk stared into Sans's empty sockets, at the two white pinpricks of magic light within his eye sockets. They could see themself in them, and they felt more empty than ever, realizing that they were such a horrible being. They trembled slightly and suddenly they broke the moment, coffee brown eyes darting to the cold tile floor. Sans did as well.

Frisk suddenly felt like they had to say something. They had to justify themself, somehow. They were soon enough planning out a whole romantic apology speech, but when they summoned enough courage to speak it all that rolled off their tongue was a pathetic and hoarse, [b]"I'm sorry."

Sans was taken aback by the peaceful silence's break, and his eyes lifted up to meet Frisk's softening ones. They were crying now, he could see it so clearly it shook him to his core. He hadn't meant to, but suddenly he was talking too, and he was choking on sobs. "I know, and I-I am too... I... I... I love you so much- I loved- but then I killed you at least a hundred times when you only killed everyone else, including me, once. I feel like * for it every single day, Frisk... a-and I'm sorry." He hadn't noticed it, but he had stepped forward just far enough until he was before the human.

Frisk let out a weep and suddenly charged forward, wrapping their arms around him and crying into his white t-shirt. Sans hugged them back, tears sliding down his face as well now. He had to say something, he knew that, but what? But then something had come to mind and he spoke it without hesitation.

"We're complicated, but that's cool. Because in the end, I love you a skele-ton." And when Sans heard Frisk laugh, however weak it was, he smiled. He had succeeded.

873 words
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[align=center]✧.° but you will remember me, remember me for centuries

[fancypost bgcolor=; borderwidth=0px; bordercolor=; width: 325px;][justify][b]THEME 3: MAKING HISTORY[hr]
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[justify]Frisk had a lot of regrets- resetting the original timeline where everyone was alive and happy, killing everyone afterward, spending days, weeks, months, years maybe trying to fix the mistakes they had made. And they had succeeded- but the human regretted that the very most.

They had deleted everything. Their friends, themself, the Underground, and all of the innocents that had lived in it. They were struggling to justify themself as they stepped back into the world of monsters and gave themself a name once more. They were 'Mocha.' Except, really, they weren't, because they knew deep down who they were- Frisk. A liar, a killer, and a human- though a monster all the same.

The sweater-clad child had explored the world once more. And it was all too painfully obvious that Toriel wasn't saying her usual comments about how she had recognized them, or how Sans wasn't passing them glances filled with emotion. His pinprick gaze was not the same anymore- Frisk hated it. Hated how he didn't remember them whatsoever, and how it was all their fault.

But they felt like it was good- they just wanted to make everything the way it was before, in the first timeline, the origin of all this madness.

They spared every single monster they encountered. They saved the Froggits, the Tsunderplanes, the Snowdrakes, the Lesser Dogs. They played with Greater Dog, flirted with Papyrus, faced Undyne's danger head on, ate spider donuts with Muffet. And when they reached the judgement hall the ache had resurfaced in their heart.

[b]"You didn't gain LOVE, but you gained love. Does that make sense? Maybe not." The skeleton said. Frisk was fighting back tears in their eyes- they wanted to hug him so tight. But he didn't know them. He knew Mocha, not Frisk. Not his sweetheart- his acquaintance, maybe friend. Maybe.

And when Frisk abandoned the golden hallway, mentally preparing themself for Asgore, they didn't notice the meaningful light shining behind Sans's eye sockets.

Frisk fought Asgore- it hurt just as much as the first time, when they were desperately clinging to the act button like a baby to their mother. They didn't want the goat man to die. He didn't deserve it. He didn't want to hurt them. And they didn't want to hurt him. But they did.

And when they pressed their palm against the repaired MERCY button, they smiled softly. Maybe this time... maybe this time he would live. But Flowey swooped in just the same, with his maniacal laughter and high-pitched voice filled with malice, taking Asgore's life just like he had before.

But this time Frisk wasn't going to just stand there in shock. They leaped when they saw the king's soul floating away, vibrating intensely. The energy inside it was growing too hard for it to bear. It was going to break soon. But Frisk wouldn't let it. They reached forward, wrapping their arms around the heart. Flowey gasped with surprise. This had never happened- not in a single one of the timelines he had seen come and go.

Frisk landed gently on the ground, doe eyes flooding with something. Something. Was it hatred, anger, pain, distress... affection, a sense of leadership, joy? No. No it was not.

It was determination.

The weight of the soul suddenly dissipated from their grasp, and suddenly their soul was shining brighter. Their small hands stretched forward, tapping something that Flowey could not see. Suddenly he was in his attack position, Frisk's friends lined up along the vines that expanded out from his sides. Frisk watched them all die, one by one. Tears threatened their eyes as they heard their screams of agony. Flowey was only confused.

The human suddenly somersaulted forth, bounding upwards and snatching Toriel's soul. Then Papyrus's, then Sans's, then Undyne's, then Alphys's, then finally Asgore's. They were moving so fast they were but a flash in the yellow-petaled monster's eyes. Suddenly the human was floating midair, eyes exploding with flashing rainbow light. Their fists were clenched, their soul was like a supernova- so bright it was blinding.

And Frisk jumped forward, toward the giant flower. They gave him a single blow to him and he was shattered into pieces. But Frisk wasn't done.

They were suddenly scooping up the tatters of the flower. Soon enough they were all laying in their cupped hands. And Frisk's ivory-shining soul drifted down towards the bits and pieces that were once their friend. There was a flash of light.

Asriel- excuse me, the God of Hyperdeath- was before them. But he seemed confused. He couldn't fight. Frisk couldn't act. They were completely closed off from their battle.

But Frisk knew why. They floated towards Asriel, smiling patiently at him and reaching toward the heart in his chestpiece. Asriel simply watched them with awe as they gripped at his true soul.

"Asriel..." They whispered. Soon enough they had tugged his soul from his body, and the God of Hyperdeath shattered like fragile glass. But the true Asriel- the one with the sweater striped with yellow- floated before them. And he smiled at Frisk as he began to disintegrate into pixels. Frisk knew they couldn't SAVE him, despite how it hurt.

The goat's voice came out as a disoriented murmur. "Th-Th-Th...ank you-u-u, Ch-Chara..." Deep within Frisk something stirred. But it was too late for Frisk to confront the first child- their world was already being engulfed in white.

Suddenly Frisk was standing in the room with the golden flowers upon the floor. Their friends were standing all around the pile of flowers, smiling warmly at them. Flowey sat in the pile, a weak grin gracing his pained face.

"Don't you see that being nice... just makes you get hurt?" He murmured, tears glimmering in his lonely eyes.

Frisk smiled softly and walked forward. They gently, delicately carried him from the ground. For once, Flowey did not yell. He did not curse at them or screech in disapproval and anger. He just let his head droop sorrowfully. The human placed a gentle kiss upon his top petal and then began to walk.

The rest of the monsters followed after them.

1034 words
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[align=center]✧.° you can't call my bluff, time to back off, mother*er

[fancypost bgcolor=; borderwidth=0px; bordercolor=; width: 325px;][justify][b]THEME 4: RIVALRY[hr]
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[justify]It was an average warm day in Los Angeles, California. The sun was shining down on a certain youtuber by the name of Fischbach's residence. The man commonly called 'Markiplier' was seated in his home at his desk, where his computer 'lived.' His friends were off making videos with the Kids with Problems team, leaving him home alone. Which he didn't mind that much, being an introvert.

Mark was on Youtube, as he usually was, waiting for his latest video to upload. A sketch he and his friends Matt and Ryan had collaborated on. Now all they could do was wait until it had finished. The blue-haired man found his mouse drifting to his subscriptions box and clicking on a channel known as 'Jacksepticeye.'

Mark found the man charming, funny, and adorable. Thus as soon as he saw his channel he was brought to subscribing. Since then he had been a loyal fan of the green-haired man. Mark opened up his latest video- TASTE MY STEEL! | Dragon Dogma, it was titled. Mark found himself not staring at the recording, but at the facecam.

He smiled warmly as soon as Jack did. It was like instinct- when he was happy, Mark was. Maybe that was why he was so successful.

But at the same time, Mark found himself wondering if they should be considered enemies- they were both part of the same market, constantly competing for Youtube's attention. Or.... maybe not. Mark surely did not feel that way, but what if Jack did? He wasn't that type of person, right? Mark tried hard to avoid his thoughts.

But now Jack's image was tarnished in Mark's eyes. What if he was? Mark could never be sure.

However, Mark continued watching the video, smiling softly at the other man's actions despite his efforts not to. During these few minutes of resentment, Mark realized that his face was growing hotter and hotter as he stared at Jack.

Dammit, why is he so cute? He asked himself silently. It took him a few moments to fully register what he had thought. Mark's dark brown eyes widened with shock at his own words. He had always known he was bi, but... Well, really, he had never had a crush on another man, he could simply tell that he was into them. Like when he saw magazines with male models in them and he blushed like a maniac.

Anyways, he paused the video and turned his gaze away from the computer screen, stuffing his tomato-red face into his hands and muttering a plethora of curse words. After a minute or so of complete, uncomfortable silence Mark managed to raise his chocolate colored eyes to stare at his door. He murmured something inaudible and then swiveled his chair around to face the computer.

And he stared at Jack some more, biting his lip until it almost bled. He could taste a hint of the metallic liquid, but nothing more, which he was thankful for.

Mark suddenly uttered a tiny laugh and then said under his breath, [b]"Damn you you sassy Irishman whom I should totally *ing hate," He fell silent for a few moments and a scarlet blush crept onto his cheeks once again before he finally finished his statement.

"Why do you have to be so goddamn pretty?" Then, the blue-haired man fell backward into his chair, face covered by his palms. He closed the tab and then let out a sigh. But a smile remained on his face.

587 words
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[align=center]✧.° love us or hate us, nothing can break us, better believe us

[fancypost bgcolor=; borderwidth=0px; bordercolor=; width: 325px;][justify][b]THEME 5: UNBREAKABLE[hr]
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[justify]It had been days since Frisk had felt safe in their own skin. Because, really, they weren't in control, despite how they wished to be. Despite how awfully they had yearned to stop hurting the people they had come to love, appreciate, and know. Toriel, Felicity, Monster Kid, the Snowdin residents... they all meant so much to them in that they were accepting of a human in the Underground.

But Chara, on the other hand, did not care a single bit about how much Frisk cared. All they wanted was blood on their palms, the taste of metal in their mouth, and the look of fear in their enemies' eyes when they laid the final blow to their mortal flesh. And the maniacal laughter that rung out in the air after their rival fell, splattered in scarlet liquid. Sometimes they would scream out- that was always fun.

And Frisk sometimes tried to argue with Chara, but suddenly they gave up. They just fell silent in the back of Chara's mind. And Chara didn't think a thing about it. They didn't really care if Frisk spoke to them or not. Chara had always thought somewhat fondly- they had been dating in many a timeline. And in some they were best friends. Chara also admired Frisk, subtly.

They admired them simply because they were so unbreakable.

They were killed over and over and over by Undyne, and yet they continued to mercy, mercy, mercy. Spare, spare, spare. Over and over and over. Frisk could stand the greatest of pain- burns from Toriel, bone stabs from Papyrus, spears piercing their skin from Undyne, shocks from Mettaton... the pain never ceased, and yet Frisk had managed through each and every battle.

But now Chara was in control of the human's body. And, to be honest, they did not have the same perseverance that Frisk did. The determination that Frisk did. And Chara hated it. They hated that they were weaker than a mortal- a powerful demon was weak, tiny, pitiful, petty; so many things compared to a puny child.

But one day Chara had an idea. An idea on how to break the unbreakable Frisk.

They knew what was up next in their path to success in the genocide route. The judgement hall where Sans stood in wait for their arrival to fight them to the death over and over. And Chara would fight him over and over until eventually they managed to hit him and kill him with his one pathetic HP.

And so Chara did. They swung their Real Knife. Sans dodged. Sans conjured a wave of bone attacks. Sometimes Chara died, sometimes Chara managed to live. Sometimes Chara was forced to eat a healing item.

Until eventually, on their 31st try, Chara watched in awe and complete and utter joy as Sans fell asleep and they moved over to the FIGHT button, lingering over it with a sickening grin on their face.

[b]"Oh Frisky~!" They purred. Suddenly they heard a quiet, weak voice in their mind.

"What do you w-" Frisk paused mid-sentence. They could see Sans fast asleep before Chara and Chara's hand placed just above it. "Wait, no, Chara, please, god no, don't hurt him, h-h-he doesn't deserve it, I... I..."

Chara giggled and said in a sweet tone, "Since when were you the one in control?" They chirped before pressing their palm against the FIGHT button and rushing at Sans, taking a leap into the air and slicing their blade diagonally across the skeleton's torso.

Sans's eyes shot open and Frisk cried out desperately. Chara laughed like a mental patient- which they probably would be if noticed by some asylum somewhere.

999999. The number rang in Chara's mind as they heard Frisk screaming and sobbing like a toddler whose bottle was taken away. Chara continued to cackle wickedly as the other child continued to weep like a newborn.

Chara had managed to break the 'unbreakable.'

666 words // haha
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[align=center]✧.° on the warpath, 'cause i love you just a little too much

[fancypost bgcolor=; borderwidth=0px; bordercolor=; width: 325px;][justify][b]THEME 6: OBSESSION[hr]
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[justify]It had been a long time since Chara had been set free from the cage of Frisk's body and become their own being once again. The two of them were both twenty now. They lived in the same house, one that once belonged to Toriel with Flowey. Er, Asriel.

Anyways, overtime, Chara began to notice something about themself. They seem enraptured by Frisk's mere presence- they looked so beautiful. With their light doe eyes that you could see deep into like a golden pond. And their short hair framed their face, perfectly straight around their cheeks and forehead. They were short- standing at 4'7''- like an adorable little kitten.

At this point, Chara wasn't even aware that they were capable of loving another being the way they did Frisk. And at that they didn't know how to handle it. They had never felt this way before.

So the green-and-yellow sweater-clad human resorted to the only thing they knew how to properly do. Stalk their prey.

Chara had waited until nightfall after Frisk bought them Thai food and fed Flowey some fertilizer and the other human had fallen fast asleep in their room. Then the human crept from their room, completely silent, towards Frisk's room. They slowly opened the door and slipped inside, closing the door gently behind them.

The agender person, in their pure white t-shirt and light blue lace-y underwear padded across the room towards the other 20-year-old's bed. They crouched next to them and grinned softly as they watched Frisk's chest rise and fall steadily. Their arms were rested on their stomach and their lips were pursed comfortably. A blanket wrapped around them like a human burrito except less morbid. But at the thought of this Chara licked their lips, wringing their hands.

But soon enough their hands dropped back to their sides and they calmed once more. Suddenly Chara realized exactly what they were doing. They were... in love. Madly in love with some stupid human that didn't even nearly match their stature and caliber.

Chara reached forward and touched Frisk's silky chocolate hair. They stirred slightly, but did not awaken, much to Chara's relief. If Frisk did wake up they would just give an excuse about their socks or scarf they had left in the room. But Chara intended to keep them in there because then they started to smell like Frisk- like golden flower tea, sunshine, and sleep.

Chara looked to Frisk's left and saw the other human's phone lying on the bedside table. Chara's reddish brown gaze darted toward Frisk and then back at the phone and they snatched the electronic device with greedy hands. They quickly cracked the password- it was a pattern in the shape of an F, like they had assumed.

They immediately tapped messages and began searching through them. And suddenly their attention caught on something that made their gut and heart wrench.

Sans

I love ya, Frisk. Seeya tomorrow.

Night Sans! Love you too!!

Oh. Oh. Chara ground their teeth hard to avoid growling in fury. So, a certain skelebro was after their one and only love. Hah, they wouldn't let him take them away. Chara quickly closed the messages tab and then turned their phone off. They looked between Frisk, their gaze filled with fury, and back at their phone. They snarled quietly and then leaned down, viciously pressing a kiss against the other human's head. Then, they slipped out of the room.

Frisk was an obsession. Chara didn't get it. Why did they care about whether this person lived or died? They despised it. They despised them. They despised themself.

Everything was stupid.

And especially Chara, because they were obsessed with a ridiculous, pitiful human.

[b]623 words
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[align=center]✧.° oh my moon, not even another eternity could stop your lovely orbiting

[fancypost bgcolor=; borderwidth=0px; bordercolor=; width: 325px;][justify][b]THEME 7: ETERNITY[hr]
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[justify][size=8]All Roy had ever wanted for Riza and him was eternity. All they needed was time, and faith, and patience to decide what their relationship really was, or just how they would keep going after the Promised Day.

Since Roy had lost his sight he had felt constantly like he was letting Riza down- straining her so badly that she couldn't manage. Though Riza never showed weakness around him- or, really, anyone, Roy couldn't stop thinking about it. Riza refused to tell him her feelings and instead smiled warmly at him, but Roy could not keep himself from worrying that she was hurting.

One day, Roy decided he would try and talk to her. He found the Lieutenant in her room, a cup of coffee in one hand and a pencil in another. She was writing in a black-and-white notebook. She was humming a tune that Roy did not recognize. Her blonde hair was held back in a bun. She hadn't cut her hair in awhile- Roy thought about suggesting that to her at some point, or once this had all dispersed. Not of course that he could see her hair, he just... remembered. Knew.

That was how they were, Roy and Riza. They always understood one another, even with drowned senses like his own.

Anyways, the black-haired man closed the door gently and Riza immediately slammed her journal shut and turned to face him, rust amber eyes wide with surprise and her lips separated in a slight 'o.' Roy found these actions a bit suspicious, though he didn't plan to make a remark on it.

[b]"Hello, Riza." He said. Black Hayate had padded up to his side, rubbing against his leg to lead him towards Riza. Roy reached out towards Riza and she set one hand on his shoulder, pushing him gently so he was sat upon the bed near her.

"Hello, Roy." She said in a soft tone unusual compared to how she usually said 'Colonel.' But they were friends enough, so that they were both comfortable calling each other by their first names. "Do you need something?" She added, tilting her head slightly as she grabbed her journal and slipped into into her bedside drawer.

Roy was curious. He had seen her writing in her journal before, assuming they were mostly just military notes, but she hadn't ever hid it from him when he was in her plain sight. They had even chatted many times before while she was writing in her notebook. Surely she understood he wouldn't peek at her private items unless she wanted him to see something, right?

However, Roy didn't want to disrespect her privacy, so he instead planned to ask her how she was doing and then slowly lean toward the conversation he wanted to have. But when he opened his mouth all that came out was, "What were you writing?" His heart skipped a beat in panic when Riza's eyes narrowed- the air was filled with tension. He knew she was being extra careful now. "I-I mean, i-i-if you're comfortable..." He hastily added, trying his best to avoid a punch in the face from Riza's precise fists.

Riza glared at him for a moment before forcing a soft laugh and saying, "I was fixing up some notes I took today at the meeting with the Fuhrer. I was also studying braille- I'm curious to see if I can teach you how to read it before your eyes are healed. It may come in handy, I feel." Once she had finished, she set her weight upon one hand she pressed into the mattress.

"Oh." Was all Roy could say. He felt so pitiful before her- before his Queen, he seemed like but a mere Pawn. "I learned a little braille a long time ago... I know it well enough, surely." He added, regaining his strength and courage temporarily.

"Anyways, what did you really want to ask me, Colonel?" She asked. This caught Mustang by surprise. Her words were sharp, but not bitter or said to hurt him. Roy opened his mouth and stuttered an inaudible noise before actually speaking.

"I... um... d-d-do you... a-are you... mad at me? Or, you know, straining yourself because of me?" Roy asked, stammering more than he had wanted to.

Riza was about to speak, Roy could tell by her intake of breath, but suddenly she halted. She turned her gaze away from him, towards her bedside table. She sighed softly- though fondly- and lifted herself from the bed. Roy heard her pulling open a drawer, and pulling something out of it. He heard her open this something- a book...? No, wait. A journal. Her journal.

He heard her flipping pages and suddenly stopping at one. She then ushered it towards him, lifting one of his hands to touch the page. He did so obediently. He was about to ask her what she was doing when she suddenly noticed bumps on the page- ah! Braille.

He was murmuring what he read with his palms. "R...oy- Roy. I... L-O-V-E..." Suddenly he paused and lifted his blind gaze up at Riza, who was smiling softly, her cheeks stained red with embarrassment and joy.

"I love you." Riza finished his sentence for her and then leaned down, pressing her lips against Roy's. Roy pressed back, though still shocked.

After a few moments Riza pulled back, arms wrapped around Roy's neck. Roy then murmured to her, "I... Riza, I love you too. F-For all eternity I will." Then, he kissed her again. He felt at peace for once in the past months. With her.

With Riza.

952 words

[align=center]✧.° i gave you the key when the door wasn't open, just admit it

[fancypost bgcolor=; borderwidth=0px; bordercolor=; width: 325px;][justify][b]THEME 8: GATEWAY[hr]
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[justify]Dark and filled with a sense of hopelessness and misery- like depression.

That was how Roy would always describe his memories of the gateway to the Truth. He had been forced in- which he supposed he was lucky for, considering that way he didn't have to experience the things Edward and Alphonse had; seeing their loved one but an inky, destroyed corpse they once were. Or, actually, weren't. But he didn't know much about that. Ed and Al often avoided the conversation about how the being they had resurrected was not their mother. Roy understood well enough why.

Anyways, it was a dimly-lit night out. The moon was at its fullest, bathing the land in ivory light. But Roy's mind was flooded with completely blackness as he slipped into disoriented sleep. No. No no no no... Was all he could think as his hands desperately reached towards anything in the ebony expanse. But there was nothing but the null void that he so feared.

Roy cried out for someone, anyone, to help him. [b]"Riza, Fullmetal, Alphonse, please!" He called, though his voice sounded muffled in even his own ears.

Soon enough he had been thrown through the portal by hands that wickedly reminded him of Pride. He shuddered at the thought of the demon, though quickly recovered when he heard the Truth's voice ringing out in his ears.

"Greetings, Mustang." Their voice was high-pitched and their form feminine in shape. Roy trembled as he tried to recover from his fears and shock. He looked over his shoulder at the gateway. He needed to leave. But Truth had already taken note of his haste. "Aw, leaving already, Roy-Boy?" The Truth asked, its voice disappointed and saddened.

"Aw, cat got your tongue, Colonel?" The Truth asked, floating towards him and cupping his chin in one of its completely-white hands. Roy opened his mouth to speak, but the Truth simply giggled and held his mouth closed. "Pathetic. Still dreaming of me, huh? At this point one would think you like it here." The Truth said, laughing softly.

"Anyways, you still want to leave, don't you, Mustang? Fine. Go on. Go home to your wife and dog and friends, still living with the things you've seen and the secrets you keep. Goodbye, Roy." The Truth moved away from the raven-haired man.

Roy then suddenly whirled around and he sprinted through the ivory stretch of empty land, toward the doorway- the hands pulled him in beyond his own will. He heard Truth cackling and once more looked over his shoulder to see the Truth waving goodbye to him with a smirk on his face.

Roy shot up as he awoke in bed. The room was dark still. Out the window the moon still stood high in the sky. Riza still lay beside him in her t-shirt that read 'OK, BUT FIRST COFFEE.' Her long blonde hair was still strewn out across the pillow.

Roy sighed and lay back on the bed. But when his gaze darted toward the door, he swore he saw the gateway. He flinched and shut his eyes. For the rest of the night he could not sleep, for fear of falling through the gateway to the Truth he so despised again.

548 words
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[align=center]✧.° ringing in a tone that slowly died and will never restart again

[fancypost bgcolor=; borderwidth=0px; bordercolor=; width: 325px;][justify][b]THEME 9: DEATH[hr]
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[justify]Death. Death, death, death. A word that could so painfully perfectly describe Brandy's melancholic life. She had seen it so many times that at this point she couldn't stand to hear the word or see blood, and yet both of these things haunted her gangster, Anti-clan lifestyle. The word rung in her ears when she slept, when she awoke. Every second she breathed was haunted by the concept of death.

You see, there were two major deaths in Bran's young life. Her fiancee, and her close friend- a person she looked up to like a father.

First her fiancee, Adrenalinepaw was murdered by an Exiler. She had loved her so much. They were so close. The two of them had started off as friends, planning parties and (not exactly) blind dating. But overtime Bran realized she loved the caracal as more than a friend- she eventually noticed that she was intoxicated and petrified every time she saw Addy's face. Her smile and her laugh filled her dreams. All she wanted was to live alongside her sweet heart and carefree smile for the remainder of her days in complete harmony.

And so, she asked her out. They went out to a carnival- they snuck in. Brandy could remember how Adrenalinepaw had asked her if she could buy a motorcycle. Brandy had said yes. She never got that motorcycle. She wished she could have fulfilled the dream of hers before her life was brutally taken, looking back on it.

Then one day they decided to prank their clanmates. Adrenalinepaw would pretend to propose. Everyone would gather around, being the creeps that they were, looking for that tasty gossip. But then, Bran would change the stakes. She would turn Addy down. Everyone would be surprised. Addy would act sad. Then when the others stepped out to scold her the two of them would scream, [b]"Pranked ya!"

But when Addy did ask her, Brandy just couldn't bring herself to say no to Addy's beautiful, childish face. She loved her too much to see her disappointed, even if it was all fake in the end. So she accepted. Addy was surprised, but didn't argue. They kissed and spent the remainder of the night with their close friends, planning the wedding.

It would be quaint. Vibrant-colored flowers on a clash of complete white. They would both wear ivory dresses with the same pops of color as the rest of the wedding.

But then Addy was dead on the ground, beaten and torn. Her tan fur was stained scarlet, and her face was locked in an empty, blank stare. Brandy cried that day. She cried as much as her eyes could cry. And then she just sort of... disappeared.

Anyways, when she returned, next up came her close friend Vandeadcarnival, the leader of the clan. They had been friends for a long time. Since she had first joined the Rebellion he had been there for her, with his caring smile and optimistic attitude. And his vampire fangs, which she found cool.

Too bad those were his downfall. Eventually, Vandeadcarnival couldn't bring himself to drink blood. He died of thirst. It hurt her so bad that he was so horrified of blood because of the awful things his clan had done. She wanted to change that so maybe, just maybe, she could save her friends lives for once.

That was all she had ever wanted. Brandy just wanted to save their lives- stop death. That was all she ever asked for.

But that was impossible.

590 words
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[align=center]✧.° another day, another opportunity put to waste

[fancypost bgcolor=; borderwidth=0px; bordercolor=; width: 325px;][justify][b]THEME 10: OPPORTUNITES[hr]
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[justify]May 28th. That was the day he reached 15,000,000 subscribers. The man was sitting in his living room, camera ahead of him all ready to go. The lights were shining on him, the white balance was perfect. He was ready. Ready to thank his fans for about the 16 trillionth time. But the number didn't matter. The people did.

He took a deep breath, smoothed back his cerulean hair with shaking fingers and leaned forward, turning on his recording. A soft, fond smile was spread across his face. [b]"Hello everybody! My name is Markiplier and... thank you. Every 15,134,090 of you. Heh, hopefully that's still correct... I checked a few minutes ago. Anyway!" The man laughed awkwardly. The truth of the matter still hadn't quite sunk in.

"So, uh, yeah. I have 15,000,000 subs now. That's just so... surreal, y'know? I mean, for the past four years I never ever thought there would be 15 million of you amazing people supporting me." Oh god, he was tearing up now. Mark took another deep, ragged breath and continued.

"I... for this video I want to talk about opportunities. With help from you guys, I've been able to do so many wonderful things! I've gotten to donate thousands to charities of all kinds to help people and animals all over the planet. I've gone to convention on convention on convention and met you awesome people. And I've met great friends. Pewds, Ryan, Matt Ken, Cry, Minx, Krism..." He paused to chuckle. "A-And a boyfriend..." He rubbed the back of his neck and laughed nervously again.

"I've also gotten two magnificent puppy dogs. I love Lego and Chica with all of my heart and they've brought so much joy into my life- our lives. I've always killed for the chance to have a dog, and now I have two!" Mark looked over at the golden retriever laying lazily on the other side of the room, fast asleep. Mark waved at her but she obviously did not reply. He returned to looking at the camera.

"For... for all of my life I have been dreaming, yearning to make others' lives more cheerful. Make the sad, suffering, mentally and physically ill feel better. And, really, everyone else. My entire career is based off of the goal of making my fans smile. After a long, stressful day of school or work or whatever I want to make you guys grin. Feel a bit happier." A tear slid down his face and he rushed to wipe it away, making a mighty sniffle to cure his stuffy nose.

"I-In the end I don't know how to thank you guys. But I hope this will suffice... thank you. So. Much." He had done it. He had thanked them. But it still didn't feel like enough. However, there was no way to cure that feeling deep in his chest.

Now it was time for the outro, as usual. "Now, thank you so much for watching, and I will see you all in the next video." Mark waited to beam and laugh airily.

"Bye-bye~!"

535 words
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[align=center]✧.° again those years run on by, my mind filling up with only family

[fancypost bgcolor=; borderwidth=0px; bordercolor=; width: 325px;][justify][b]THEME 11: 33%[hr]
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[justify]Frisk had done it. Frisk had beaten the game. In fact, they had 3 whole years ago. Even still, laying on the couch in Toriel's house they couldn't believe it. They could not believe that they had saved the monsters. Even the worst of them had been spared like they had wanted. With this thought their coffee brown eyes drifted to the darker-haired 14-year-old laying on the other side of the couch. Chara. They breathed out a sigh.

But even still Frisk found themself missing the underground. They missed the heat of Hotland- it never got too warm in Bismarck, North Dakota. And despite the cold they still missed Snowdin. All of the friendly residents, the welcoming atmosphere of Grillby's, Felicity, her sister, and her son... Ah, the good old days.

And these memories brought the sweater-clad kid to rise from the couch with caution at 1:01 in the morning, pull on their shoes and a coat that had once been Sans's, and leave the house, Tori's keys held tightly in small hands.

They still remembered where the underground's entrance was. In fact, only them and Sans knew. There had been an incident, you see. A very bloody one. However, all Frisk could remember of that were bright white lights, a giant smash of pain through their entire body, and then blackness. Apparently they'd been hit by a car. Luckily, Chara and Sans, with the aid of their time control had managed to summon a save point and return them to life at the time they released the monsters.

They made a habit out of saving every morning now.

But anyways, they ran up Mt. Ebott with ease- it wasn't really that tall. The cuts on their ankles didn't mind them. Neither did the sting of cold in their throat and eyes. They just kept sprinting until suddenly they were descending the stairs into the Ruins.

Memories flooded back like water as they walked through the many halls. The puzzles were all solved. It was nice. Soon they were standing before goat mom's old home. They grinned softly and darted through the doorway, excited.

Everything was dusty. It smelled like a bookstore. But Frisk liked it. Toriel often brought them to libraries anyway. She missed her books. Maybe they would bring some back to her.

The 14-year-old placed the jacket on Toriel's chair as they wandered into the kitchen. The first thing their eyes laid upon was the pie laying on the counter. There was only one large piece taken from it. A third of the pie. 33% of it. Suddenly Frisk was struck with a grim realization.

Toriel hadn't eaten any more of the pie after they left. In fact, she never ate pie anymore. Frisk only then realized that the goat woman hadn't baked any since they had abandoned the Ruins oh-so long ago.

The child reached forward and touched the pie. It wasn't hardened or moldy or covered in dust. They pulled a small bit from it and ate it cautiously. It tasted just the same as it had 3 years ago.

The child then pulled a knife from the counter- a butter knife- and cut another third of the giant pie and placed it on a plate, tears filling their eyes. They felt so much sympathy in their heart for Tori. They had abandoned her after she made them feel so at home. After she had fed them delicious butterscotch-cinnamon pie.

Frisk ate that other 33% of the pie that night, sitting on none other than Tori's reading chair. And they thought about what they had done. And when they had finished and put down the plate in the sink, they looked back at the pie sitting on the counter.

Now there was only 33% left.

[b]634 words
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[align=center]✧.° thought i knew you for a moment, now i'm not so sure

[fancypost bgcolor=; borderwidth=0px; bordercolor=; width: 325px;][justify][b]THEME 12: DEAD WRONG[hr]
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[justify]//continuation of theme 6: obsession

Throughout the six years they had been friends with Chara- with three in between when they had dated- Frisk had never realized that they were such a horrible, creepy freak.

I mean sure, they did know that they liked murder, were quite violent, and had anger issues out the wazoo, but they had always tried to hope they would be okay. So they had stuck around them. Maybe they'll get better if I support them, They had thought. That was a stupid thought, Frisk realized now.

Because all Chara was was a good-for-nothing friend who only wanted to sabotage their relationship with Sans. The 17-year-old still didn't understand why. Chara wouldn't talk to them after they confronted them. Frisk supposed that made sense, surely they were embarrassed or the like, but that didn't make the situation any less aggravating.

Just a day or two ago when they had suggested to Toriel that she bring Chara with them to the mall for new clothes, since they were technically her child as well. Tori just avoided the conversation with a quick, [b]'Oh I'll just bring them next week.' Total bullshit, but whatever.

And Sans was not helping either. Every time he and Chara even so much as met eyes his socket lit up in blue magic and Chara pulled out a knife and they were instantly at each other's throats. By the way, Frisk didn't understand how the actual fuck Chara ever did that, but that did not matter in the slightest. At least not right now.

So overtime the short-haired human's rage just built up and built up until one day they caught Chara in the kitchen snatching the Cheez-Its before they disappeared back into their room again and they snapped. Chara turned to wave at them nervously, hands- and snacks- behind their back innocently. It all just merged with Frisk's anger and suddenly spilled over like a red-hot tsunami.

"Don't you give me that 'innocent precious child coming through' look you prick! You're a total creep, you fucking know that? And yet I keep acting nice to you like a total idiot! You're so insensitive- you don't even fucking care that you stalked me in my sleep and looked at my text messages and shamed my boyfriend for loving me. I'm so sick of you, Chara!" They screamed at the top of their lungs, hands balled up into fists. Chara looked horrified and slightly... (insert gasp here)... upset? Weird.

Chara felt ebony tears fill their eyes. This actually hurt, somehow. Lame insults thrown around by this dork human actually made them feel sadness? It was absolutely odd.

But it just got worse when Frisk let out their final yowl escaped their lips. Chara choked out a sob and dropped the Cheez-Its, running past Frisk and down the hallway, slamming their bedroom door behind them.

"I was dead wrong about you being a good person, Chara!"

And Frisk didn't feel an ounce of sympathy for the demon, because they were too furious to say a word. They just whirled around and walked down the opposite end of the hallway to their room, closing the door loudly behind them.

They were so done.

543 words
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[align=center]✧.° and no matter how hard you try, i'll always belong in the sky

[fancypost bgcolor=; borderwidth=0px; bordercolor=; width: 325px;][justify][b]THEME 13: RUNNING AWAY[hr]
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[justify]Running away was a topic Ebbingpaw did just about any time they encountered an issue, though they wouldn't admit it. The serval liked to think they were at least somewhat independent, though they knew deep down they were not in the slightest. Even still, the thought that they did not need another's opinion to make a single decision was endearing though out of reach, in their case.

Dependent personality disorder was a bitch.

Anyways, being completely honest- which Ebb wasn't- they ran away from just about everything but their enemies and predators and such. They would never run away from a deer or a lion or something, they would just fight them. What did it matter in the end, right?

But on their not-so long list of skills, being a wimp about relationships was one of them. Ebbingpaw had ran away from the Exiles due to Sans, continued retreating from their wishes to truly tell Solarpaw that something was wrong with themself, and wouldn't dare tell anyone they were a cold-blooded murderer for fear of being left behind.

Ha. That was quite ironic, if you thought about it.

But either way, it wasn't exactly their fault they 'clingy.' It was their mother's, if anyone's. She, Cara, had refused to show Ebb- then Charlotte- that she loved them, and challenged them to earn her affection. Spoken like a true mental abuser, right?

But unfortunately, being the poor gullible creature they were, Ebbingpaw had believed her. They'd killed many an innocent back then. Some of them including their own four siblings. Their youthful faces still haunted them while they slept. But that wasn't the point.

Ebbingpaw had continued to murder until eventually they realized Cara was never really going to love her. So Ebb killed her too. And then- insert gasp here- they'd disappeared from their home by their own will, like the coward they were.

And then they'd joined the Exiles. Despite the evil of the clan, Ebb found themself surprisingly happy there. More so than ever before. They were adopted by Sans, met their wonderful datemate... things had been good. Until they fucked it all up by asking their father to tell them what was wrong with him.

He slashed their face and then the next morning they were gone. What a surprise, right?

They left to the Compendium, and then joined ThunderClan alongside Solarpaw. Then they decided to flee from the voices in their head. They stabbed themself to try and escape their wicked grasp. But they still had not let go.

Then that desperation brought the serval to murder ArcadianClan's Lotuskit- another innocent soul laid to unnecessary rest. Ebbingpaw felt guilty about that as well. The she-kit had ran off to say goodbye to her loved ones that night. But at that point, Ebb couldn't bring themself to feel sympathy for her. They just buried themself deeper in their own fear, letting the demons in their mind subdue them to their will.

They had tried to keep themself from harming anyone else- they'd stabbed themself. That didn't work, because they were obviously still alive, and the ghosts still followed them. That frustration- with the aid of the voices, forced them to do something they had never ever in the thousands of years they had been alive, though in different forms and timelines, thought.

They attacked their own beloved father.

And after a long night of the feline beating them senseless they returned to ThunderClan, broken in more ways than one. They had retreated from that battle. Probably later than they should have, however.

And now they lay in ThunderClan's camp, black tears streaming down their face. They were such a cowardly fool.

Maybe they'd run away from that too, eventually.

[b]625 words
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[align=center]✧.° you're the judge, oh no, set me free!

[fancypost bgcolor=; borderwidth=0px; bordercolor=; width: 325px;][justify][b]THEME 14: JUDGEMENT[hr]
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[justify]Unlike most other residents of the hundreds of timelines- especially the Sanses and Frisks- Ebbingpaw, a Chara reincarnate, had never encountered nightmares. Or at least not constantly. Maybe one or two every few months, but not every day. Ebb was lucky for that.

But anyways, today was one of those few days when a bad dream decided to make an appearance in their haunted brain. Not that they knew that, of course. Ebbing laid their head on their pillow and shut their weary eyes, slipping into a dark sleep.

But almost immediately they could tell something was wrong. They could hear faint whispers in their mind, words inaudible. They were struggling to decode the things these unseen figures were saying through vicious lips. But they could hardly hear. It was like their senses were muffled all over again. Horrid memories of ShadowClan came rushing back. The flames along their spine, the blades in their feet, the long claw-marks along their flank. If anyone was watching them rest they would see Ebbingpaw thrashing with fear, trying to escape just as they had on that painful day.

Then lights began to flash. Ebb could just barely see two shapes laying with blood pooling around them upon the ground. Instantly the serval could recognize the pair and they attempted to scream out to them, begging the two of them to awaken. But Solarpaw and Sans weren't going to come back. The voices told them hastily, cackling maniacally. Ebb tried to yowl in anger, but they couldn't breathe. The tears were gathering in their fuchsia eyes.

Ebbing felt like they were being held back, locked in place by invisible hands gripping their limbs. They were doing their best to struggle against the weight and run to their loved ones, but their strength was not faltering. They were desperate for release from this cage.

But suddenly they were set free and they crashed to the floor with a yelp of surprise. But they quickly recovered, bursting into a sprint towards Sans and Sol. But as soon as they reached them they had disappeared. Ebbingpaw yelled in terror and fury. And just like that the voices had returned, buzzing in their ears and growing louder and louder as seconds passed.

Until the volume reached its peak, and abruptly ended. Ebb was suddenly in a chair with binds around their legs, sitting before a completely grey, faceless giant. It had a gavel in its hand. On either side of him Underfell and Solarpaw were hung up like ornaments, covered in red liquid. It was silent for a long while.

Until suddenly the grey creature banged the gavel on its table and began to speak in a loud, booming voice. [b]"Ebbingpaw Dreemurr has been accused of murder and betrayal. Jury, what is your say?" Ebb was too desensitized to truly grasp what was going on.

All around them signs were being lifted all with the word 'GUILTY' painted on them in scarlet. Blood. The giant cackled and then shouted, "Guilty it is then! This animal's punishment shall be..." There was another endless silence before a small chuckle escaped the giant's lips.

"I could kill you, creature, but... heh." It laughed again. "That wouldn't really do anything, would it? Therefore I believe I shall... take away your two beloveds." It cackled again and Ebb cried out a worthless 'no!'.

"No? Fine, fine. How about... they stay alive, but you cannot meet this trash bag ever again..." It pointed to Solarpaw, and Ebb yowled in disagreement, but the judge did not listen. "And this heathen will never love you ever again." Then the giant nodded his head toward Sans. Tears escaped Ebb's eyes, sliding down their cheeks and leaving black trails.

"Sounds good to me!" The crowd all cheered in unison. Then everything disappeared but Solarpaw and Sans, who were now standing with blank expressions on their faces. The two of them looked at Ebbingpaw, shook their heads, and then turned in different directions, walking away.

Ebbingpaw cried out one more time before they awoke from their uneasy sleep.

And they swore they heard a voice whisper to them through the darkness of the room, Court has been adjourned.

710 words
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[align=center]✧.° you'll find us chasing the sun

[fancypost bgcolor=; borderwidth=0px; bordercolor=; width: 325px;][justify][b]THEME #15: SEEKING SOLACE[hr]
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[justify]//ugh please god dont read this one, s o m u c h c r i n g e J F C

It had been a long time coming for Solardust and Ebbingaway. The two of them had been lovers since they met and had stuck together- mostly- through thick and thin. Despite how both of them were constantly on a timer with their flowers and ooze, they adored one another. Ebb had ran away from their affection once or twice and Sol had allowed their anxiety to take over, but they were still side by side.

And now they were married. It was strange to say that. But anyways, Ebbingaway had popped the big question months ago and Solardust had accepted their inquiry, however somewhat hesitantly. They had gotten married in a simple outdoor place with no flowers, no fancy dresses, nothing special. They didn't want the decor to get in the way of the ceremony.

They happily wed that day with all of their friends seated in the pews with smiles on their faces. Ebb had been painfully aware that day that their father was not there. But they tried not to think too hard about it.

The two of them lived and died together for moons until Ebbingaway was 30 months old and Solardust was 32. They were happy, for the most part. Except for the fact that they would never stop the cycle of death that they both were forced to suffer.

And one day Ebb grew tired of it. They had relived the horrors of almost-permanent death just the night before. The memories all came flooding back like they usually did. Solar's body laying upon the floor covered head-to-toe in buttercups, Sans fighting them, Sans's anger. And then they felt the sensation of being torn apart, though in reality they were being put back together. Regenerated.

It was sort of funny how absolutely horrible it was to regenerate. The original thought would be that it was peaceful. Nice. Like a paradise. Being revived was a miracle. Not a curse. Except for Ebbingaway. For them it was like dying again. It hurt like hell and it was traumatizing as *.

But they lived, like usual. Then they awoke in bed, thrashing and sweating and bleeding from the mouth. The ooze was gone, but its weight remained. Surely the goo would return soon, like it always did. Soon they would get that ravenous desire to murder, and then it would come back.

The serval sat there, staring at their sheets in utter silence. They wanted this to be over. Just... completely done. They hated this. They hated killing, oozing, dying, hurting, awaking... the loop never ended. It was terrible and yet wonderful at the same time. Because no matter what they would return and see the faces of their loved ones, smell the spring breeze, feel the comforting warmth of a bonfire during winter. So many amazing things they and Solardust would never stop experiencing.

Until the others died forever. Immortality is a touchy subject. Many mortals would instantly think: 'wow, living forever? awesome!' but it really isn't. Or at least not in Solar and Ebbing's eyes. For them its like torture. The thought that your beloveds will one day completely disappear and you'll have to live on without them knowing you'll never see them again because you're never going to die is paralyzing. Like absolute helplessness.

So Ebbing then had a new idea. It was crazy, yes, but... they thought maybe it would work. The dark brown wildcat rose from their bed, glancing over at Sol who was across the room, sitting up as well. They hadn't died, but they had heard Ebb wake up. This happened most of the time. Solardust wouldn't speak for fear of angering the unstable Ebb. But eventually they would chat and laugh and try to break the ice that had covered the two of them.

But instead of cheerful chatter, tonight Ebbingaway meowed, [b]"We need to kill ourselves to break the curse." Sol's gaze met theirs with sudden panic and confusion.

"I-I've tried, Ebb... it doesn't work." The dog replied, ears drooping and tears filling their flower-covered eyes.

"No... I... I think... just..." The serval suddenly conjured their blade and a sorrowful look descended upon Solar's face. "We... we have to kill each other. But at the same time, y'know?"

Solardust laughed in a pained manner and conjured a knife themself. "Seriously, Ebb... we can't..." Ebbingaway stepped closer to their love, pressing the blade gently against the canine's throat.

"Please." The word rolled off their tongue as tears streamed down their face. "We need to end this now. We... we can't keep doing this, Sol." After a few moments Solardust pushed their knife against Ebbingaway's throat. They nodded solemnly.

The two of them were silent for about ten minutes. Thinking everything over. Sending their telepathic goodbyes, perhaps. Ebb wished they could. But Sans was too far away. And they couldn't bring themself to say goodbye to Butterscotch or Muffet or Asgore. So they didn't say anything.

Ebbing raised their fuchsia eyes to meet Solar's and they whispered, "I love you."

"I love you too." Solardust replied hoarsely, choking on their sobs. This was so unusual; two true loves killing one another to be freed from their pain. To find the solace they had been searching for for ever so long.

The tired words lingered in the air for about twenty minutes and then they both slid their knives against each other's skin. Blood was drawn. Both of their blades clattered to the ground and the two lovers fell limp upon the floor beside them. They never did awaken.

They were dead.

They were free.

944 words
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[align=center]✧.° because i need a man, but my heart is set on you

[fancypost bgcolor=; borderwidth=0px; bordercolor=; width: 325px;][justify][b]THEME 16: EXCUSES[hr]
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[justify]Kurt Hummel had never avoided the fact that he was gay. Oh no sir. In fact his entire life had pretty much shaped around his sexual preference, despite how stupid that was. He wouldn't be so sure his friends loved him dearly enough to stay by his side if he hadn't come out to them. And without something to come out about, what was the point? But now he knew they absolutely cared.

But when it came to a certain lead singer in the show choir the Warblers, Kurt wished he could hide his gay. Because god damn whenever Blaine Anderson stepped into home room carrying another tune Kurt was 90% sure he was about to swoon like a little girl. And Blaine wasn't gay, right? He... he couldn't be.

You see, Kurt usually found it quite easy to tell whether or not a man liked the same sex, mainly by attire and hairdo. But Blaine. Oh, Blaine, somehow managed to flip Kurt's gaydar upside-down and proceed to break it in half, smash it into the ground, and then throw the billion shattered pieces out the window.

It was just something about him. Something about his polo, something about his bowtie, something about his fucking golden hazel eyes and that innocent kindness that truly enchanted Kurt. But he wasn't gay. Or at least Kurt wasn't quite sure. And that doubt only grew stronger at Rachel's party- you know, the one with the wine coolers and the karaoke and the spin the bottle? Yeah... not a good night for Hummel.

And then the day after, when Rachel kissed Blaine at a coffee shop- seriously, who does that, hipsters?- and Kurt heard those words slip from his mouth. Those beautiful, spectacular three words that made Kurt want to kill himself and jump for joy in the same moment,

[b]"Yeah, I'm gay."

Kurt was pretty sure he lost his shit in that moment. When Rachel came running back to him smiling and he just stared up at her, glasz eyes half filled with confusion and the other with pure, unadulterated glee. Pun not intended. He was pretty sure he just let go of all of his fears and pain and worry and doubt and just... grinned. Like a little girl. And he was okay with it.

Thinking about it now, Kurt wasn't sure how he hadn't realized Blaine was gay before. Hadn't he, like, told him? Flat out, no hiding, no tricks? Just pretty much said to him at Sadie Hawkins he and his friend had been beaten because they were gay? Hm. Boy was Kurt an idiot sometimes.

But hey, love made you stupid.

And Kurt was tired of saying he wasn't desperately in love with Blaine Anderson because for the love of all that is good, he was head over heels for him. He was sick of the excuses, sick of the lies, the tears, the thoughts that Blaine would never return those feelings.

God damn it, Kurt Hummel was in love with Blaine.

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[align=center]✧.° IN FACT, WHILE I'M HERE, I'LL SMASH THE WHOLE OF YOU

[fancypost bgcolor=; borderwidth=0px; bordercolor=; width: 325px;][justify][b]THEME 17: VENGEANCE[hr]
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[justify]//continuation of theme 12: dead wrong, which is a continuation of theme 6: obsession lmao

He had crossed. The. Line.

Chara had put up with Sans's shit for long enough. Dealt with his ridiculous puns, how he would peck Frisk's lips in front of them, the way his eye would light with blue magic in the dark when they were just trying to do anything but stab him and then he would laugh. Chara hated him with a passion.

He got everything he wanted. A peaceful timeline, a group of friends who actually trusted and loved him, a datemate who would do absolutely anything for him, amazing power. And he always thought he needed to put them down because they were 'trying to destroy all of it.' But in reality, they wanted this just as much as him, somewhere deep within their heart. Or lack thereof, truly.

Chara would do anything for Frisk. Kill whoever dared harm them. Help them through times of suffering. They had before, no? Now, one may ask; Why? Why treat the one who did nothing but stand in your way so kindly? Well, the answer is: Frisk was the only one who ever cared about them.

They'd been there for them through thick and thin, trying to convince Toriel and Asgore and the others to trust them. In fact, with the assistance of Frisk's affectionate efforts which included therapy, their anger issues had been healing slowly. And Chara loved them so.

Not LOVE.

Love.

It was odd to think they could even feel that way at all. But Frisk managed to induce that emotion from within their shriveled-up SOUL.

And then he came along, with his baggy blue jacket and constant, sickening grin and his 'justice.' He stole Frisk's heart without any sense of empathy for Chara, left all alone with their only ally completely and utterly turned against them. All they had tried to do was protect Frisk, and they were instead put down and abused for actually caring about someone.

Thus Chara was going to settle this once in for all. They dug through the bottom drawer of their shelf to find their bright scarlet heart locket and knife. The grip felt pleasant in their small hand. Natural. While examining the silver blade with shining red eyes they could faintly see a bloodstain on the metal. A childish giggle escaped their throat and they stuffed the weapon into their pocket and walked out of the room casually.

It was dark out. About 10 pm. Sans was out by the river, probably being sappy and teary-eyed as per usual. Frisk, meanwhile, was comfortably asleep in their room, curled up beneath their yarn blanket, hand-sewn by Toriel with 'love in every stitch.' Chara peeked into their room and the realization stung within them.

Chara had never gotten anything like that.

And on the 17-year-old's desk sat a framed picture of Frisk standing and smiling alongside Undyne, Alphys, Asgore, Sans, Papyrus, Mettaton, and Toriel. The photo was labelled, 'A BIG HAPPY FAMILY!'

Chara wasn't in the picture.

And a mug sat near the photograph. It was white and it said in black letters, 'WORLD'S BEST DAD.' It was Asgore's, but Frisk had drank orange juice out of it. He was fine with that.

When Chara tried to drink from the others' cups they were brutally shunned.

The more Chara stared into Frisk's bedroom the more fury built up in their brain until they wanted to scream and slash the throats of every citizen of the underground and then just curl up and die.

Toriel didn't love them like she said she loved Frisk. Undyne would never play fight with them like she did with Frisk. Sans would never pass them playfully affectionate remarks at the dinner table like he did with Frisk. Papyrus wouldn't laugh and hug them like he did with Frisk.

No one would ever love them, because they were utterly intolerable and completely awful. They deserved to die. They didn't belong here like Frisk did.

Chara turned around and slammed Frisk's door closed. Inside Frisk shot up out of bed and hastily called out, [b]"Chara?" Chara didn't reply. They just stormed out of the house, tears streaming down their pale face, leaving black trails in their wake.

The brunette then burst into a sprint once they were outside, making their way toward the river. "SANS, GET YOUR ASS OUT HERE!" They screamed out, locket upon their throat and blade clutched tightly in their hand.

Chara heard a small chuckle roll out of a hoarse throat behind them and whirled around to find said thick-boned skeleton leaning against a tree, socket alight with neon blue magic. "You called?" He asked, voice oozing with resentment and sarcasm and unadulterated hatred for the short brown-haired murderer standing before him.

A smirk played on Chara's lips. "Oh, so you aren't deaf. Good to know." They replied sharply. Heh, sharp.

The pale-skinned 16-year-old darted forth, knife drawn and swiped at the skeleton. He backed up quickly, sending a barrage of bones their way. Chara let themself fall backwards, completely flat. The bones passed by above them with a whoosh of air and then get stuck in the cold earth.

"Woah, woah, calm it kid. What's it this time? Wanna talk about it?" The skeleton inquired with a flat laugh. He reached one bony hand out, laced with magic and attempted to lift Chara into the air, but something was... different.

Chara simply wouldn't budge. Absolutely would not move no matter the force he propelled upon his hand. "The... hell?" He uttered lowly, cancelling his attack and then stepping back, staring at his palms. He clenched his hands into fists and looked up spitefully at Chara. "What did you do, brat?" Sans spat.

Chara's head was bowed so their face was shadowed. Their hands were completely white from gripping onto their locket and knife too hard. It was silent for a few long moments. Far away, on the edge of the clearing, Sans's friends were hidden in the bushes, muttering among themselves worriedly.

Suddenly the quiet was broken by Chara, who had suddenly looked up again. Their silhouette was shimmering with scarlet light. No... magic.

The red energy spilled from their eyes, floating up into the air and dissipating in pixels about two inches above their head. "WhAt'S iT ThiS tiMe? waNNa tAlK aboUT it?" Their voice came out mangled and twitchy, as if glitching. It was as if it was surrounding Sans, filling his mind from all directions.

Suddenly they were being raised into the air, covered in red magic. They lifted their knife and suddenly threw it with fantastic precision. It sliced through the darkness like a glowing arrow whizzing through the night. Even Frisk and the others, despite their distance from the fighting pair, could see and hear it.

For those moments it was if time had slowed down. Every millisecond was like a year. With each passing second Frisk's heart dropped deeper and deeper into their stomach and they were screeching with pure terror as if from instinct. Nothing had happened yet, but they could hardly breathe. It was like dying a million times within a few moments.

But then the blade struck its target and Frisk had a reason to cry out. Sans released an 'urmph' of pain and flew backward, sending dust flying as he made a mark in the earth. He landed again with a thud and a skid against the dirt. The other monsters were already charging from the underbrush toward the short skeleton, screaming in fear.

Chara lifted one hand and their knife pulled itself from Sans's body, drifting back into their hand. A tiny, pained laugh dragged from their lips shakily as they watched the others crowd around Sans.

Frisk turned to face them floating in the sky. Tears streamed down their face. They looked utterly horrified and scarred and sorrowful.

And before Chara vanished with a flurry of scarlet pixels they only uttered two words.

"i'M SoRRy."

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[align=center]✧.° everything about him was perfect, and i fell in love instantly

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[justify]Love was a silly thing.

A silly, silly, terrifying thing.

Or well, at least it was to Carlos.

Carlos the Scientist had lived in Night Vale for only about three weeks. But already it seemed he had caught the attention of a certain community radio host. What was his name again...?

Ah, yes, Cecil Gershwin Palmer.

Carlos had never been in love. And the thought that someone- especially such an intimidating and altogether thoroughly mysterious and unknown person- would develop a crush on him. He wasn't all that appealing, right? He couldn't be. And yet Cecil was very... um... outspoken, about being head over heels for him.

Carlos knew he couldn't handle having a boyfriend. He just... could not. He was too involved with his science. He already often neglected his own health due to his common experiments. He was quite afraid if he had a significant other he would accidentally hurt them. He'd never told anyone that, however. He always told them he was fine. A scientist was always fine.

So for the longest time- up to 9 months- he had ignored Cecil's words, mostly. Especially after the blonde had given him his phone number. He was careful to only call the Voice of Night Vale when it was ever so necessary, in cases of emergency. Times when Carlos needed his scientific discoveries shared with the town.

But it also seemed odd to Carlos how he would rush to awaken in the morning so he could catch the beginning of every day's episode of Welcome to Night Vale on the radio. And how whenever Cecil would so much as speak his name with that caramel voice of his he would practically keel over. And the way he would intake shaky breaths with each word the other man spoke. And how frequently Cecil's gorgeous face and enchanting voice appeared in his head while he worked and slept and simply existed.

But he avoided even so much as mentioning any of this to his co-workers or, in fact, just about every single person who he commonly spoke to or dared to question his strange behavior when Welcome to Night Vale was on in the lab.

Until one day, at about 4:32 PM, Carlos was picking apart an alarm clock to find yet another gelatinous grey blob with teeth and hair growing from its slightly-shifting surface and he decided to call Cecil. He had been piecing together a theory lately, and this, along with the wide selection of clocks, watches, alarms, and phones around the room proved undoubtedly true.

So he lifted his cellphone, dialed Cecil, and sat on his black office chair waiting for him to pick up. Something within him stirred, praying he would answer just so he could hear the man's spectacular baritone voice.

Cecil did not pick up.

With a little panicked hum of displeasure he waited for the voicemail message to finish- he only trembled once with joy at hearing his voice- and then after the somewhat disorienting beep he began.

[b]"Cecil, sorry to bother you. I need you to get the word out that clocks in Night Vale are not real. I have not found a single real clock, I have disassembled several watches and clocks this weekend; all of them are hollow inside. No gears, no crystal, no battery, no power source; some of them actually contain a gelatinous grey lump that seems to be growing hair and teeth. I need to know if all clocks are this way, Cecil- this is ve-"

Suddenly he looked up to the sound of loud breathing outside his lab door and a strange movement through his window. He let out a fearful, shaking breath before continuing, his voice dropping to a low, weak whisper.

"Th-There's something at my door, Cecil. I..." Carlos swallowed heavily to ease some of his anxiety before finishing, "I need to go, okay? I'll call you back and we-... well, I don't know."

Carlos ended his message and re-positioned himself so that he could see past his curtains. He saw a man standing there, face somewhat hidden by a beige, tilted hat. He wore a tan jacket and in his hand held a suitcase that seemed to be quietly... buzzing? Odd.

But he took another deep breath and messaged Cecil once more. He needed to know about this.

"There's a man... in a jacket... holding a leather suitcase outside my door, Cecil. He's not knocking, he's just standing in front of my door. I can't make out his face; I'm peering through a crack in the living room blinds I-" Suddenly the man's head craned to face him and the scientist covered his mouth with one quaking hand to keep from screaming. "Oh no, he saw me...!"

Then a flash of white overcame his vision for only perhaps three or so seconds and then he was no longer afraid. He was just... sitting there. In his laboratory. Staring at the window blankly. The man was gone, though Carlos had pretty much no recollection of a man being there in the first place.

Without much thought he called Cecil again, deciding to get on with whatever he was doing.

"Sorry about that Cecil, I forget what I was doing, I think somebody came over. But I don't remember who, or what for. Anyway, I need to meet you; are you free tomorrow afternoon? You have a contact number for the mayor and someone with the police, right? It's important that I find them, and again, can you get the word out on your radio show about the clocks?"

And he hung up.

And a few days later, on Welcome to Night Vale, while Carlos sat in his car eating pizza from Big Rico's he heard his own voice. No. No way. Cecil was broadcasting his voicemails? Covering his face with his slightly-greasy, dark-skinned hands he blushed madly. "Oh my god Cecil." He said beneath his breath. Soon the weather was on, and Carlos had missed most of what Cecil had said afterward, but he hardly cared.

Soon his phone was vibrating in his pocket and he reached over, pulling it out to find that Cecil was calling him. Shakily he answered.

After a five-minute conversation with the radio host, a 'date' was set for tomorrow at a coffee shop to talk about Carlos's discovery of unreal time and, according to Cecil's manic excitement, romance. But Carlos tried hard to ignore how the blonde man always called him 'sweet Carlos' or 'perfect Carlos,' despite how it made him shiver with glee every time.

This weird feeling he was realizing for Cecil wasn't fine anymore. Carlos could hardly keep it in check, nor decipher what the hell it even meant. But as Carlos turned off his radio and began to drive again he noticed a new anticipation sprouting in his heart. He couldn't wait to see Cecil.

And with a small smile appearing on his face he muttered, "A scientist is always fine."

He was in love with Cecil Palmer.

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[align=center]✧.° why am i so afraid of being left behind

[fancypost bgcolor=; borderwidth=0px; bordercolor=; width: 325px;][justify][b]THEME 19: TEARS[hr]
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[justify]Cecil's trio of lavender eyes crept open slowly with a low moan that escaped his light pink lips. One of his pale hands moved to his face to wipe away sweat and hide his optics from the brightly shining sun. The radio host's mouth opened slowly to spit a comment about why the sun wouldn't just go curse Desert Bluffs with its invading light, but stopped himself short when he laid upon his mattress again to find that it... wasn't there?

As Cecil's three milky orbs began to absorb his environment it all began coming back to him. The day before this one, Carlos- his perfectly imperfect Carlos- had told him he'd found the door and that he would be home by the morning. Cecil had been overjoyed, of course, and darted from his bed, leaving his half-filled bottle of vodka to sit and ferment on his night stand and poised himself vigilantly at the window to wait for him, as a good boyfriend would do.

And it seemed he had fallen asleep in the process. Cecil wanted to scream at himself, but that didn't matter now. He would later, surely. Anyways, suddenly the man was frantically fumbling around for his cellphone, and eventually one palm settled upon it and quickly it was on.

6 messages. 1 missed call. Cecil's phone read.

The blonde panicked to unlock his phone and then began to scroll down, through the recent texts in he and Carlos's chat thread. Cecil was moving far too fast to actually read them, but he caught the gist of it.

The door closed... I'm sorry... be there soon... maybe... love you...

As he progressed through the texts Cecil's heart only dropped further into his chest and his eyes grew more moist and his throat closed tighter and eventually Cecil was throwing the phone at the door with a loud clang and then the man was crumpled up on the ground sobbing into his over-sized pink sweater. It was quiet in the house, but within Cecil's head in seemed like a hurricane was raging.

Everything seemed like a lie. Carlos had told him he'd be home months ago, and yet Cecil was still here. Alone. Without his boyfriend. His wonderful, gorgeous, loving and absolutely adorable boyfriend.

Cecil couldn't think. Everything was drowned out by the rushing of tears and adrenaline and guilty anger until all reason was buried beneath the salty waves. He could hardly hear, especially when a certain Dana Cardinal knocked on the door only to enter uninvited within thirty seconds.

Soon dark arms were wrapped around his body, holding him tight and squeezing with all their kind warmth. A feminine voice was whispering and humming sweet nothings into his ear and in a minute or two Cecil's heartbeat was slowing to a gentle pace and his crying had ceased, but the aching in his head had not.

[b]"Cecil, honey, everything's going to be okay, I promise..." The Mayor cooed softly, and Cecil sniffled, letting himself resurface from the depths of his hellish ocean of sorrow with his best friend clenching him tightly in all her delightful reassurance.

"Th-Thank you, Dana, but I'm... I'm fi-...f-f-fine..." Cecil tried, but soon Dana was pulling him closer and then the floodgates were opened again and Cecil buried his face within her bosom and let the tears fall. This happened a lot, not all that surprisingly. Cecil drank, Cecil cried, Dana calmed him, Dana called Carlos, Dana lied to Cecil, put him to bed, and then left quietly. Not that Cecil didn't appreciate all she did for him, of course.

Dana pulled her phone from her pocket and dialed Carlos, as per usual, and they talked for a rushed five or six minutes before Carlos hung up and Dana let out a stressed sigh. She muttered something, but Cecil didn't care enough to ask what she'd said. And that was fine. They were fine.

He was fine. Eventually things would be alright. Eventually.

Until then, however, all he could do was cry. And Cecil supposed that was just fine as well.

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