In the large mansion, isolated from the bustling
city, a place was covered in mystery, a place was covered in death. On these grounds, an atmosphere
so thick laid like a blanket around the house, suffocating the people in it.
One shouts so loud that the people outside-
the butler, chef, and gardener- cringe in hurt. They know what is real. They
pack their backs and get ready to get out. They know what is happening. One,
sadly, is still shrouded from it.
William shouts as loud as his lungs could
Celine? Come out! You got me! This was an elaborate prank, you got me, now,
At first, it was a call for them, come on, pleasepleasepleasecomeout. No one’s dead,
right? But as time went on, it was becoming a chant. A chant of his heart,
for his mind, to keep working, keep moving, keep calling. They’re not dead.
They’re playing a prank.
“Come on William.” He whispered to himself,
fiddling with his lenses. “Don’t lose it. Don’t lose it. D-Don’t…” He
swallowed, a sharp short pain in his dry throat. “They’re not dead. Come on!
A voice calls from his back, and he looked at the
corner of his eyes. A cracked mirror.
His friend, reflected on the smooth, jagged surface. A look of anger, vengeance, burning. “Stop.”
understand, Mark.” He grits out in a faux happy tune, but both knew it was
fake as it can get. “Those two- they were— are, my friends. For years! And you know they love pranks. They’ve got to
get out soon!”
The other man steps forward, and it was
only this time did William register the familiar cane in his hands. A surge of
disbelief ran through him, and blindly, as if his body knew what his mind
wanted to do before it instructed him, walked briskly towards the other and
snatched the cane, clutching it close to his chest.
“This- this isn’t yours. It’s Damien’s.
Not. Not yours.” He stammered, not knowing why. Was it anger? Disbelief? Or was
he hurting already? What did it feel to hurt? “You’re not supposed to hold it.
It’s his. Mayor’s.”
“You shut your mouth!” He retaliated, hands
shaking, and he felt his body drop. ‘Stop.’
He yelled desperately in his mind, a
slow hysterical feel creeping in his internal voice. ‘Stand tall! At ease! Parade rest! God fucking-‘
A firm hand landed on his shoulder. A
familiar touch, yet not so. It felt cold, as if owner’s anger that he was
feeling was ice-hot. William blinked the tears from his eyes, and removed his
glasses, drying the tears on them. And-how peculiar was that. He was on his
knees. When was he on his knees? Did he do something wrong?
“Did I kill them?” He asked no one, no one
in particular, absolutely removing anyone around him from his midst. He was
alone in this room, wasn’t he? Or was the man behind him, no, not just a man,
Mark, behind him? “No, no, I didn’t, right? Mark’s alive?”
“Oh god. Oh god. Goodness gracious. I
thought- and Celine, and Damien, and-and-and, and Y/N, right, I didn’t kill
them?” He tried to stand, but his knees were too wobbly, and he had to balance
himself upright. “Mark, I didn’t kill them?”
Mark didn’t answer. The anger that was
projected on his face earlier waned, morphing into something drastic, pitying,
hurting, all at once. “William- I, I’m trying to tell you, please, listen-“
William’s smile grew, a painful one, and
his eyes, oh his eyes, filling up with hot tears.
“Mark, I didn’t kill them?!” He asked once
more, and he stumbled, losing grip. He stared at the cane first before looking
up at the other’s face. “T-Tell me, you’re alive?”
“I-“ Mark brought his hand up to his face,
massaging his nose. “It’s hard to explain, but yes, I am alive, but- but not in
the way that I used to be. William.” He bent down and gripped the steadily
hysterical man. “William, listen to me. I am alive. But I- I am Celine. I am
Damien. We’re both here, but- but we’re dead, William. Do you understand?”
The man stared at him, and Dark, who had
been just letting his anger reign himself in, bit his lip, seeing the absolute
pain in his eyes. Celine and Damien, in his conscious, struggled, gasped. Both
tried to control themselves to project the man they wanted to take vengeance as.
Then they heard the ramblings. The
ramblings, by god, the ramblings,
they figured out, my god, where was
their friend going?
“D-Damien in the body? C-Celine in the
body? That’s- that’s great! They’re not dead! Mark’s not alive! That’s even
greater! No one’s dead! No one’s dead! F-Fuck, no one’s dead!
However when they saw their childhood
friend break, absolutely break, Dark
knelt, and shed a few tears.
“William, please.” He looked at his friend.
The other man stood up, fast as lightning,
and shouted upwards. “No one’s dead! They’re all alive! Hah! G-Good one, good
one!” He smiled, a painstaking, hysterical, twisted, and deranged smile. “That
must be pretty harsh! To be there in there! What do you call yourselves?”
In a small, but relenting voice, he
whispered, “Dark.” And he winced at the bigger smile that took over his friend’s
face. “William, do you understand what I’m trying to say?”
“Yes!” He smiled, and- were those tears? Tears
of a man so far from reality. Tears from a man who can’t accept reality and
forged his own. Tears that signified the great loss of a man.
Dark stood up, and looked at him, with
baited breath. Celine and Damien’s friend’s sanity was long gone. In a broken
giggle, William beamed widely.
“No one’s dead! No one is dead!”
And that was the final straw for Damien. In
Dark’s mind, he paced gripped his lapels as hard as he can, and grinded out
through his teeth his words.
“He fucking did this to him! Look at him!
Fuck, Celine!” He demanded, and Celine watched his tirade, eyes widening as she
saw the anger overtake him. “He took everything away from us! He took me. I
could deal with that. He took you, and I couldn’t. But- but William! The man
was damaged enough as it is! That fucking son of a bitch-“
“Don’t Damien please me, Celine!” His voice
was getting higher. “No matter what we could do, magic arts or not, there is no
way with helping William anymore! All he sees is Dark, Mark’s face, accommodating
us, and we don’t have any way to show him that we’re here. He doesn’t
comprehend it!” He yelled, watching her reactions. “You cannot tell me that I shouldn’t destroy his work, his loved ones,
his life! Look at how he destroyed him without an ounce of thought!”
Celine bit her lip and exhaled. “Damien. I-“
A gunshot suddenly brought them out of
their reverie. Dark blinked, looking at the scene in front of him. A bullet, on
the floor, punctured. William, with a gun on his hand, looking lost, like a
child without their parents. His eyes wide, he turned a questioning look at the
other, who smiled in response.
“You weren’t responding to me.” He laughed,
and something unsettling was in his eyes. “I just wanted to check if you were
still there. With me. Alive.” He put the gun in his holster. “Y-You weren’t
moving, and I know I didn’t put a bullet in you, so you couldn’t have died- but
you weren’t moving anymore, so I figured, why not put a bullet on you?” He
chuckled even louder. “That seems to bring people alive!”
Dark chose to be silent, and Celine could
only sob in her hands, as Damien stood up tall in Dark’s subconscious,
unyielding, and hateful. He watched his childhood friend, his comrade, the man he had grew up with, the man he sought out in times of trouble, break as if he was just a plaything; crumble, as if his sanity was just an insignificant sand in the wind; and disappear into a pit of madness, right before his eyes.
Dark’s body to stand, and hug the other man, whispering reassurances that he
was alive. William would nod and whisper “No one’s dead” again and again, further angering Dark.
This was all Mark’s fault. This was all
Mark’s fault. Mark’s fault. Mark’s fault.
And he will pay.
So. What do you guys think? Hope you like it! Comments will be appreciated ahaaaa
“Who are you?” the young king asked as the creature paced around the room. shadows swallowing him as he moves behind pillars.
“Well, i have many names,” the creature grinned, nails scraping the pillar he was leaning on “Some call me Azrael, some call me The pale rider, a Shinigami if you want,” the creature stopped in front of the king, his pale eyes glowing under the candlelight as his grin grew “I prefer Death”
“Death?,” the king puzzled “then you came for my soul?”
Death frowned, his cape spreading black smoke around his feet “No,” Death said before shaking his head “Yes! well, i came for your soul two months ago” Derek took a step back.
“I was supposed to die in the fire?,” The king asked tentatively, the answer already obvious by Death’s frown “why am i alive then?”
Death smiled at that “Well here’s the thing Hale,” He paced around the king in small circles “i saw something in you, something great” Death placed a cold hand on his shoulder “your soul is meant to do something”
Death smiled brightly, a pure contrast to his pale complexion “Here is the thing, i don’t know!” he exclaimed gleefully.
“you don’t know?” the king raised an eyebrow in question.
“yes! isn’t it amazing? me! Death himself can’t see what the future holds for you! maybe you’ll kill the great evil? maybe you’ll become it? maybe you meant to die in the next second leaving your kingdom to parish!” Death skipped on the stone floor between the pillars, as if he is a kid playing.
“then what are you doing here?” Derek asked and Death stepped so close to him their noses almost touched.
“i want to see” Death searched his eyes “i want to see what i can’t, therefore ill stay by your side Hale,” he walked back and bowed “till the day you parish i shall stay here and watch”
A smile played on his lips as his cloak started to disappear and in its stead appeared normal court clothes. his eyes changed from violet to honey brown and his hair combed back, he straightened back and stood by Derek’s side with a playful smile.
Context: An unfortunate hired Assassin (me) falls into a vast underground dungeon full of mysteries. He keeps stumbling upon various terracotta golems which activate when something living is nearby and then they keep pursuing the living being until they kill it.
DM: This corridor leads to a small chamber in which stands a terracotta guardian. There is still blood on his sword.
Assassin: (with a huge fake smile) “Nevermind me officer. I am just… Uh… Checking that everything is alright. Carry on and… Um. Don’t let me disturb you.”
Assassin: I turn on heel and leave. If I hear anything moving behind me, I execute the classic strategy of dealing with any guard anywhere.
After watching the new episode of Glitchtale I was really excited and, of course, come to look on everybody’s opinion about it. And well… I really don’t understantd people who state that Sans’ revival is a bad thing and now all viewers gonna focus all the attention on him.
But just remember who take him back. Certainly, this person is Papyrus. And I think that maybe some really picky people can enjoy the fact of renaissance at least because of Papyrus’ decision, behavior and actions. He does not so innocent in the Glitchtale as someone show them in their projects.
I’m not good at feelings expression, but if I even imagined that everything would end up without this, I would feel truly hurt for Papyrus. He don’t deserve to be alone. He was the one who stand face-to-face with deadly danger, using a kindness as a weapon. I don’t think that any of us can do this. He realized that his brother out of controle, that he could simlpy kill him, (And if it really was like that, i would swim in the pool of my own tears) but he didn’t give up. And, geez, after all of his speeches I started to respect him even more.
So I don’t get somebody’s outrage and I really enjoy the episode as well. It have given me immeasurable rush of emotions for all day. And I bet mostly everyone smiled/burst in tears on this moment.
In the end I just want to say huge “thank you” to every member who takes part in the creation of Glitchtale. Impression of this episode is truly unforgettable. Stay determined!
↳ Précis |
A beach house laying still before cerulean waters, an ocean where destinies intertwine, and serendipities drown in the arms of fate.
Your Name!au, aka body swap!au. Totally different from said movie, nonetheless, highly recommend you watch it. Also, ft. a high dosage of Kim Taehyung | Words ➳ 21.6k
Genre & Warnings
A glass of angst with a dash of fluff, and a sprinkle of humor. Warnings? uh..implied smut and mentions of death.
The window stood opened, sheer curtains occasionally being swayed by the frivolous breath of air from the outside — breeze kissing your skin delicately while you smiled in your sleep, hugging the body pillow even closer to your chest as you hummed, sinking your head into the plushness of the cushion. It was way past midnight, the owl’s faint hoos were welcoming throughout the atmosphere as they bounced around the area and the indistinct salty scent of the ocean’s crystal waters wafted insignificantly; melding within the zephyr to drown others in utter reminisce and nostalgia.
Your mouth hung open by how amazingly comfortable you were, having the best night’s sleep of your life inside the beach house your friend’s had rented to have the time of your lives. It was the first day of arriving late in the night, and the first thing you did was melt into the fine lusciousness your bed had to offer, immediately knocking out and having your soul diminish beneath the small parts of your brain. It was a long and annoying drive, being in the Range Rover with more humans than you can handle despite them being your friends — and now, you had the time to relax..or so you thought.