You can call me Dhampir or Dhampy, I don't mind either one
Pronouns are he/they
My current hyperfixation(s) is Deltarune/Defernull so expect to see alot of those on my blog(be advised some of my posts are not properly tagged and I am trying to fix them)
I also post some of my yumeship stuff with Tenna
You can ask about my yume and other things but I can't guarantee I will always answer! I will try to check my inbox weekly just incase.
Doubles are okay! Just be respectful and I will return that!
My usual tags:
The tag "dhampirs chatter" is for my basic ramblings
"My misc" for things that I can stick between the other tags( things like crafts and other miscellaneous posts)
"My art", "My writing", and "Reblog" are obvious
"My sona" and "My oc" are also as the name implies
"Shitpost" is random bullshit I make for giggles
Basic DNI: Homophobes get out, and transphobes too. I am trans and gay and proud. Racism and ableism will not be tolerated on my blog either.
If I ever repost something offensive please let me know! I don't always catch things first glance!
Imagine one day you see Tenna do his angry cat pose at someone and you can't help but giggle to yourself about it cause it looks a bit silly and eventually you start mimicking it yourself whenever you get upset at something small (you might even make a little hiss sound sometimes)
I think if he caught you doing this he'd get all miffed/embarrassed about it but we simply can't help ourselves cause he's just an oversized cat to us and whatever
May I introduce my Tenna echolalalia headcanon for this
You hissing ends up making him hissing. Imagine you start meowing for the bit and then he starts meowing back and then you both turn into big dumb silly cats
bangs pots together NULL ANGST COME GET YOUR NULL ANGST
Null always keeps his wardrobe shut. Which is why, one day, you take a look when one of the doors is left slightly ajar. You really expect nothing more than his usual suits, his more casual clothes in a nearby dresser, but a shock of color grabs your eyes. Curious, you investigate.
Hanging neatly, yet almost completely hidden, is a tailcoat. It's in a transparent clothing bag meant for long-term storage, though the dust on the bag is a clear indicator that it hasn't been worn in an incredibly long time. The tailcoat itself is red, a bright pinkish red, and very much not what Null wears. Curious, but unable to get answers at the moment, you shrug and close the wardrobe door. It takes some effort, being so large, but you manage, then go back to getting dressed.
Null's in the main living space, sitting at the table with a fresh mug of coffee, judging by the smell. You grab your preferred morning drink before settling in to finish waking up yourself.
"Your wardrobe wasn't shut all the way. Closed it for you." You say, looking at your drink.
"Mmn." Null grunts out, clearly still not fully awake.
Knowing that you're as likely to get an equal non-answer as an actual answer, you venture forward. "Saw a tailcoat. What's with it?"
Null slams his mug on the table, making you jump. You're only slightly relieved when you realize that he also jumped: he'd clearly set it down much harder than he intended. "It's from when I was a naive fool."
"Naive?" The word comes out cautiously. You're pretty sure you just accidentally hit a very sensitive topic about his past, and considering how little he speaks of it, you expect little more than a confirmation, forcing an ending to the conversation. You would accept that, not wanting Null to be pissed at you for it, even if it wasn't intentional.
Instead, he gets up, and heads to a bookshelf that's nearly his height, and pulls out a book from an upper shelf. In his hands, it looks comically small as he brings it over and gently sets it down in front of you. It's a photo album, and definitely old, from long before you first showed up.
He flips it open, and the first several photos show him, with the staff. The studio, to your surprise, was much more brightly colored back in, including Null himself. Looking at the photos and carefully going through the pages, you read the captions as well. Once upon a time, Null hadn't been so repressed, and his staff too more positive.
"Yes." Null's voice is very soft as he settles back in his chair, watching you. "A lot happened in a short span of time, and I had to change." You glance up to see his hands back on his mug, clenching it tightly. "It was change or die."
"That's harsh." You reply, flipping a page. Some of the photos are formal shots, others much more casual daily snapshots. You linger over the expressions Null makes in some. You've seen him react like that before. Each time was brief, but you recognized it. A smirk, a laugh, an especially funny one of him being befuddled.
"It was." Null doesn't say anything else for a moment as you linger over a photo of him faceplanted on the floor. It's one of the captioned photos: Mind the Pippins! You giggle, knowing full well that such a photo would never happen these days. The Pippins all scatter far too quickly from Null.
Null starts talking again a few pages later, as you see one of him getting ready, wearing the tailcoat. He's facing a mirror in it, his back to the person taking the photo, but the reflection shows that he's gazing at the photo taker, a very soft smile on his mouth. It's an incredibly loving smile, soft and gentle. You've seen it pointed at you. You're so focused on that smile, you initially miss what Null is saying.
"Huh?" You look up. "Sorry, I didn't realize you were talking."
Null shakes his head slightly, though you get the feeling that he didn't realize that you had talked. "That version of me...I had to kill him. If he showed up and saw me now, he wouldn't recognize me. I've had to change too much." His voice is very quiet. "He's dead. Long dead. He won't come back."
"Tenna..." You murmur. You didn't like how he was hunched over, shoulders tense.
He looks up at you. "I had no choice in it." You get the feeling that he had no tears left for this. "I had to become a monster to survive. That tailcoat...it's all that's left of him. I can't get rid of it, but I can't wear it." His breath hitches. "I can't go back to it."
"Tenna." You repeat, this time a bit more firmly. "Your past self isn't dead."
"Yes he is. You weren't there for it."
"I know he's not. I've seen several of these expressions before. He's not dead, he's just waiting for you to come back to him."
"He won't recognize me. He may as well be dead. You don't know what I had to do to get here!"
"I've seen you smile like that, laugh like that," you swear you can hear music coming from somewhere. "It's you!"
Null freezes in the rant he'd been building up, and just stares at you. "It's...me?" He slowly repeats.
"Yes." You nod. "Despite everything, it's still you." The feeling of music playing gets stronger. The music is...hopeful. "Your past self isn't dead, Tenna. I've seen flashes of him. He's still here, waiting for you." You repeat the statement, hoping that this time, he understands what you're getting at.
Null doesn't initially respond, staring at you. "What do you mean?" His voice is incredibly uncertain.
"This smile, you were looking at me when you showed it last week." You reply, pointing at the photo. "It was brief, but to me, it means that your past self is still alive." You know you're repeating yourself a lot, but with how uncharacteristic Null's been acting since you brought up that tailcoat, it seems necessary.
He doesn't respond, so you go back to flipping through the album. You're near the end, when you hear his breath catch. Looking back up, you realize that he's crying, tears streaming down his screen and leaking off the frame and into his lap.
"Tenna?" You carefully close the album. The last page is empty. "Tenna, what-"
He shrinks, quickly reaching your height and still going. You scramble out of your chair and over to him. By the time you do, he's three feet tall, and covering his screen with his hands.
"Oh, Tenna..." You murmur, climbing onto his chair and settling in behind him. You pull him close, carefully, gently. You don't know what affected him so strongly, but you suspect that your words were the majority of it.
Null hiccups, and turns, to grab your shirt and bury his inactive screen into your chest, tears still streaming. You wrap your arms around him, rubbing one hand up and down his back, the other gently cradling his head. You keep quiet, letting Null cry himself out. If you're a sympathetic crier, you are fighting to hold back your own tears at this point as well. Either way, you get the feeling that the studio is going to have a rare day of handling themselves.
