#dandy writes

hey!! wrote a fic!!

basically: ADWM Vanilla Ending from Dolly's POV.

he's having. A Really Bad Time.

Actor's not helping. like At All.

 fundamentally, martyn does joke around, he does things for the hell of it, but ultimately he always has some plan, is always wary, and is willing to do whatever it takes to see the games through to the end; his goal is just making it out, no matter the cost. martyn only listens as a means to an end- he’s more than capable of surviving in other ways, as he’s proven by being one of the last four players on the server the past Three Life Games, but he’s compelled to listen, to play it safe, to be underestimated. martyn doesn’t really care about any of his allies, not truly. he’d betray most in a heartbeat, honestly, if we don’t count ren. and even then, if it came down to either martyn or ren, while martyn would pick himself any day, ren is the one ally i think he truly, deeply cared about. it’s a life or death situation, and martyn treats it as such, picking his loyalties but never dying for them. 

grian, however, does what is interesting, what is appealing; a lot of what he does is a performance, progressing the plot; he’s both the consumer and the producer of the entertainment. grian loves watching, it’s a part of who he is, but he loves playing the game for what it is, loves influencing the outcome, far more. grian treats the world like the game it is, but his loyalties run deep

Some people on Discord encouraged me to share the headcanons I have for domestic life with the Certified Evil undertale multiverse boys. It’s a little self-indulgent, so I’m putting it under the cut. Enjoy!!

how it is both the seed of life but also an omen of death and misfortune.

the thing that signified the start of a cycle, the beginning of an end, the ellipses of a sentence.

how inexorably entwined it is as both peace and weapon.

eat the apple.

is it repentance or sin? is it forgiveness or condemnation?

apples have flesh, too.

i mean. apple seeds and bullets look awfully alike.

eat the apple.

is that what sealed that sordid fate? something as simple as a bite into fruit?

there is no other way it could’ve ended. a hunger that can never be sated.

flesh that burns apple red in the scorched earth of a dying world. flesh that gleams gold and enchanting like the world reborn, taking everything along with it.

eat the apple.

held at gunpoint, bleeding out, apple held out with a hooved hand and serrated teeth.

a threat.

a promise?

a beginning.

an end. (it never will. )

you couldn’t save them. you know that. you tried so hard to hold on, to pull them up. your hands are so scarred. the edges of those serrated memories dig into your palms. it aches. 

you just try to hold on tighter. 

but the people you love, they’re oil slick, and they just keep falling through your fingers. 

you just try to hold on tighter. 

you have trouble bending some of your fingers fully from how some of your scars cover the joints. it makes it harder to hold anyone’s hand, much less grasp them. you feel like you’re just staining everything you touch with how much you bleed now. 

you just try to hold on tighter. 

1. accept that nothing you ever thought you were is permanent. you're in a constant state of flux (or at least, a constant state of decline. what's the difference between transformation and decomposition, really?)

2. you are already familiar with grieving, both in yourself and others. (you'll never forget the sounds of your mother crying over her baby boy that died in the room across from your bedroom. you put your hand to your chest and feel your pitter pattering heartbeat in the long nights after 'the accident'.) youre very familiar with grief, indeed.

3. get used to feeling like youre haunting your own life, like youre possessing your own body, like youre a ghost trying to remember what it feels like to be the person youre scared you no longer are. it never goes away. you know youll hope for it to, anyway.

4. your joints are stiff. you remember reading about rigor mortis a while back (you cant forget it. you cant forget any of it. youve tried).

5. arent you tired? youre scared to fall asleep. youre scared you wont wake up.

6. if youre not already accustomed with shame, youll learn soon enough. you already hated most things about yourself before you died. you think you hate this part most of all. (you feel it festering where your heart is meant to be. you dont want to check if you still have a pulse.)

7. you want to help people. you try to help people. you fail to help people. rinse. repeat. youre not a hero. you dont have superpowers. youre just a dead kid. you really thought youd be good for anything other than haunting the people you care about?

8. you shouldve stayed in the dirt. (you know youd just crawl right back out. there's still mud under your nails. in your lungs.)

9. your name is on a tombstone. you stare at it. you stare at it. you stare at it. you dont blink.

10. your older brother thinks youre a freak. you dont tell him that you agree. you dont tell him anything. you dont tell him anything at all anymore. it's not really such a big difference to how it was before.

11. youre nothing but a bad omen. you dont know how everybody else keeps missing the signs. (you cant feel your fingers.)

12. the stages of decomposition are fresh, bloat, putrefaction, advanced decay, and skeletonization. you dont know which stage youre at. you dont even know if that applies to you anymore. (you cant feel your fingers.)

13. youre scared. (when are you not? you know youre a coward. you cant feel your fingers.)

14. rules of three. before, during, after. limbo. maybe it's all limbo. there's nothing left for you here. there's nothing left for you there. you dont know which is worse, lingering or passing on. you really are just a ghost, arent you?

15. avoid your reflection like the plague. you were never really pretty before, but now you look ghastly, all gaunt skin and eyebags and twitching tendons. (rigor mortis. you cant tell if the shudder that runs through you is from revulsion or a dying muscle spasm.)

16. you dont sleep anymore. youre pretty sure you dont need to anymore. youre still tired.

17. ignore the chill that never goes away.

18. ignore the way you reek of death. animals never go near you, now. you see vultures circling ahead that disappear when you blink. (just a carcass with the audacity to still walk around.)

19. ignore your friends concern. if you pretend everything is fine enough, maybe itll be true.

20. ignore how hopeless it all feels. youve seen the afterlife. there's nothing waiting for you there, so dont even think about it.

21. ignore the way your hands shake.

22. ignore the fact your chest doesnt move from breaths.

23. ignore that your wounds dont heal quite right.

24. ignore the disgust you feel whenever you move and your joints dont bend the way theyre meant to.

25. ignore your shame, ignore your fear, ignore the fact your heart doesnt beat anymore-

26. ignore it all

27. you cant

28. you cant

29.

30.

31.

32. you try anyway

33.

34. rinse. repeat.

35. ....

36. accept this crypt of a person youve become. you think, maybe, that this fate hangs over you like a guillotine- like this death was meant to happen, like you were always meant to become this. it all seems too perfect to be coincidence, right?

37. 'william wisp, the one meant to be the wisperer, keeper of the wispering woods, born and raised (and killed) in deadwood.' it's all so cliche.

38. that dread builds in your throat like phlegm. you cant accept it, but what other choice do you really have?

raspberries.

you dont know much about raspberries- what they look like, what they taste like, what they smell like.

( your mouth is stained red, your lips cracked and bleeding, your wounds oozing awfully onto the little boat beneath you. )

your friend tells you he likes raspberries. he likes the cookies with a little space in the middle with raspberry jam inside.

you dont know much about raspberries, but you know your friend likes raspberry cookies. it feels like you can taste them already through the iron tinge of your tongue.

william is a character that feels like he’s been on a steady descent his entire life, with hands of ghost or hands of smoke, and the one time he was tangible he was let go and now those hands are coated with blood.

let’s just hope he’ll get some purchase when he’s in the right mind to try and climb his way back up.