#sunshine.

[wildlcck]

THE ANGEL THAT IS SUNSHINE (@soughtserenity): Sadie did you ever want kids before everything happened or were you and your Jake happy with things just as they were ?

━━━🥀━━━

the shot glass from earlier lies empty, long abandoned now. she's started helping herself to some generous sips from the bottle instead- one. then, another. ❛ we thought about it. talked about it. we tried our fair share o' times. but... it wa'n't on the cards for us. ❜ lighting a cig with a small, faltering, faraway smile (one of the few she knows now). ❛ i know he woulda loved bein' a daddy, my jakey. he never did say all that much about it. he always said i was all the world he was ever gonna want or need. that our little world, this life of ours we was buildin' together... that was big enough, more than enough, for him. but, he thought about it. i know he did. i knew what he was thinkin', what was on his mind... without him sayin' nothin'. always did. ❜ she can remember fretting something fierce about it. 'cause they'd have this other mouth or mouths to feed and care for on their hands. and how would any kid of hers, with her having this cold stone for a heart, who'd come from a woman like her momma, who'd come from a momma like hers before her be any different? how could she or they be anything other than cold- hard? then, feeling some relief. a little sadness somewhere, too. for him. maybe some for herself. she did get to wondering. thinking if maybe she, if they, couldn't do it different. so, maybe she wasn't the mothering kind. but, in a warm, loving house, a home, with a man who's all love and heart? it could be different. they could do it different. so, she'd started thinking and they'd started talking about a stubborn-hearted, wild thing of a girl running 'round, one with unruly blonde hair. just like her. playing to her and teaching silly old nursery rhymes on the harmonica. or maybe a boy, with his kind eyes and heart. them reading to him and him always with his head stuck in some book. how different it'd be. she lost track of the tries, eventually. stopped counting, talking or wanting about it. got a little angry. a little sad maybe, too. she never did like having nothing taken from her, taken out of her hands. she always wanted to not want something. or to want to. then, she came across that little lopsided donkey-horse again, tucked away someplace, a little dusty now. the one he'd been trying to carve for what seemed like forever (she'd picked splinter after splinter out of his hands- he never was all that handy or practical, her jake). she was always saying how it looked more like an ass. he always laughed at that. but, he was determined, all right. he told her he was gonna make a whole ranch, even if it killed him (and his damn hands). how they'd learn their girl or boy all about theirs. how she could teach them to ride someday. one night, when they was doing the washing up, she wanted to tell him how she loved that stupid little horse. and him. about everything and all the nothing. then, a plate slipped from her hands. and then, she wanted nothing more than to break, to shatter them one after the other. so, she did, sobbing or screaming or something in between the two. he didn't say a word, her jake. just tended gently to her bloodied hands, all ridden with cuts. wiped carefully at the tears. held her in his warm, loving arms. he didn't say nothing when she replaced the plates a day or so later. just held her a little tighter at night, in the dark and quiet. ❛ he woulda made a great daddy, ma jake. the best. ❜

[thotkiing]

pov : u take ur favorite man and his dog out for a date. ❤️

[cazadoradeluna]

Sunshine, why did you attribute me to that image?

[cosmosfated]

A Simple Answer

Grabbing the glitch of a ghost was an easy task. Getting them to come through the gate with him is less so.

But he manages it.

Without any ceremony, Kairos drops Sunshine to the ground on Top Side, just beyond the city limits. He hadn’t exactly cleared it with his Brother, but then again, the old fool would be able to tell that he has a trick up his sleeve. Something that was worth putting a bit of trust into him and understanding that maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t pull a fast one and hide the mockery of death on a plane of existence where they would be able to hide at least for a little while before they were eaten alive. It’s not much, but to be brought to a state like this and be dropped to the ground is something to behold.

They stand up with a huff and dust themselves off, glaring daggers at their adversary. “Why did you bring me here?”

Kairos looks around for a moment, as if to check if someone else were listening, waiting, watching. “why else?” His gaze settles onto Sunshine with an unwavering neutrality that is remarkably and irrevocably him, those unforgettable violet hues uniquely glittering in the afternoon sun. “to prove a point.”

“Right,” they scoff and take a step forward, to perhaps make him flinch. “And what point would that be, exactly? You can’t exactly keep that world up without me. I’ve made it grandiose, bigger than itself, and it needs someone to run it. You can’t be rid of me. You need me.”

He doesn’t flinch.

He just stares, for a time. Ages, almost, so long that one would watch him slowly blink, and he shakes his head, eyes closed for just long enough to realize his sincerity. 

“no.”

They stop trying to be threatening, confused now. “No? No what?”

“no. to all of this.” He shakes his head again. “to you. to your words. to your threats. to everything you think you’re speaking into existence. no. i refuse to believe you. i refuse to let you believe you’ve any power over me. you don’t. you did, for a while, have power over me, but i’ve had time to understand myself. i’ve had time to come to terms with myself. no. i refuse to allow you to hold that control over me. no.”

“I’ll always live within you, you know that right? My memory will dictate your every move─”

“no.” He smiles, the gesture sweet and I daresay kind. “not if i don’t let you.”

“Liar.” They pause. “If you’re lying, you’ve gotten quite good since the last time we saw each other.”

“and if i’m not?” He tilts his head curiously. “if i’m telling you the truth?”

“You can’t be. That means you’d rather me die because we don’t agree.”

“oh, frisk,” he sighs. “this is not because of a disagreement. this is because of what you’ve done as a result of you gaining power you should not have. this is because of how much you’ve hurt, robbed, murdered, taken in the name of a false god you created that conveniently encompasses everything you believe in and wish to achieve. there is no god that i know that would do the things you do for the reasons that you do them. you would not be accepted through the gates by any manner of the scriptures.”

“I’m beholden to no gods.”

“but, you are beholden to your code. corrupt as it is, it is yours. and it holds no power over me. you hold no power over me and mine.”

“...” Their expression pales, realizing something. “You’re serious. You’re not lying. You’re going to leave me here to die.”

“die? oh, no, not die.” That smile from before curls into a wide, sharp toothed grin, crooked and bent in ways that show his madness. “death would be a mercy for you, and i’m no judge of mercy. i can only offer you a change in scenery, a change of pace. i can only offer you the one thing you refuse to acknowledge: change. but my version of change isn’t what you think. and i certainly won’t tell you what it does now. you get to learn what change means.” And of course, the fact that even his words are affected by it the moment he finishes speaking. 

“Don’t leave me here.” They croak out, already feeling a terrible grip in their chest. “Please, don’t leave me here, I’ll do anything.”

“no.” He says again. “i will go to see my brother, i will go to speak with my siblings, and i will move on. you do not get that luxury.” And he turns and walks away, teleporting to a nearby building and hiding behind it. Watching them panic, freeze for a moment, then turn and start to run away. 

And he waves his hand, dismissing his curse.

They stop. Drop to their knees. And he watches their chest shudder for a moment.

He doesn’t wait to see what they do next, already miles away, walking a little lighter than he was before.

[cosmosfated]

It’s About Time

“You do know that Time isn’t happy with you, righ’?”

The voice comes as a sharp surprise to the young Ambassador, making them jolt in their seat from where they’ve been doing some of their work facing out of the window to - well, what else? - enjoy the view of the city from their office. They can’t help but be briefly confused at the voice, though, not recognizing it as someone they know personally, like Melanie or Pacifica, or through some terrible happenstance, like Lost or that other awful Lich (whatever his name is). So they think it’s in their head, for a second, wondering what the person’s voice could be attached to. But, they’re working. Rather diligently, they may add, on something that will benefit Monsters and Humans greatly should the law be passed. 

“Plannin’ on actin’ as if I don’ exist, ey?”

... drat. It’s not in their head.

They turn around and almost get startled out of their wits once more, as there is a person in a full suit of dark grey armor lined with orange accents. They can’t even make out who it is past the helmet, as it shields even their eyes through the slit in it. The only truly odd thing with this appearance is the fact that the person is holding a latte in one hand instead of the sword sheathed at their back.

Though... the words they spoke first. Time isn’t happy with them. What does that mean? How could they know anything about how Time itself feels about what they’re doing with Their World? It doesn’t matter. This is theirs. Their World. What does Time have any say over?

“... You gave me a bit of a scare. That’s not very nice of a guest to do.”

The chuckle that rumbles through that suit of armor sends a shiver down their spine; it felt as if the whole world were within that armor, and the eyes of it were waiting for that split second where their facade broke and their shoulders could no longer carry the burden of the world’s wishes for more. Everything felt as if it were trying to choke them out, and all of that feeling stemmed from the sheer amount of energy radiating off of that damned armor. Without thinking, they find themselves using the ability given to them to try to impose a disadvantage for whoever is in front of them, trying to see like the bigger person here. 

Again, there’s a noise like an amused huff, as if someone found this way too funny. 

And through the break in the helmet, a steady orange glow of almost predatory eyes stares back at them.

A sinking feeling in their chest weighs them down to the seat they’re in, and they feel so so small when against this person. Even the presence of something much, much stronger could not shake this person’s will, and that terrifies them. It’s one thing to know a Lich had walked in and know that nothing would shake the purpose of one, but to have a seemingly normal armored Human or Monster simply shake off the presence of a godly being? There’s nothing quite like that. That speaks of ancient ways, ancient people that befriended dragons and demons and gods that died off long ago.

It’s only then that they notice the items hung at the waist of the armored individual. Several items, a globe on a chain, a blade, a ring or two, ones that immediately make them desperate and craving the attention of such items. It nearly blinds them with Desire but they manage to hold back long enough to look back up towards where the face would be. “..... What do you want from me?”

“Ahh, only ta warn ya, FRISK.”

The voice seems to encompass the room and demand even their attention and they find themselves unable to look away from the helmet, the glowing orange eyes that they can see past the suit in their way. It scares them, knowing that someone that isn’t on par with a Lich or a higher ranked Demon can do something like commanding not only the attention of they themselves but a dragon that is now slightly unnerved by the sensation washing down her spine. 

“Like I said... Time isn’t happy wit’ ya messin’ ‘round wit’ its domain. You have not EARNED its favor, not the way you should ‘ave, the way tha’ another did oh so long ago to play games wit’ it. You have not earned th’ right to play games wit’ its domain.”

Sunshine swallows harshly, finding their heartbeat accelerated in the meantime of being warned about something that’s never bothered them before. What is this weight? What is this unspoken energy and strength and power that rivals even their own? What is it? Anger builds up behind their throat and their lips curl downwards into a deep scowl at the way they’re being spoken to. “What place do YOU have to talk about what Time wants? You’re just another person under its whim and the games that it plays. You shouldn’t mind what I do with the powers my Soul grants me.”

“Oh, FRISK...”

The person sets their latte on the desk and reaches up to take off their helmet, revealing a face that only further confuses them. Pale skin, scarred on one side of his face as if scratched by a bear of some kind, short dirty blond hair, too dark blood dried on his face, and glowing orange eyes. 

“Time gave those abilities to all o’ those like you. Yer not special. Ya jus’ so ‘appen to be a PROBLEM, unlike th’ rest o’ th’ ones who came b’fore ya.”

“If I’m such a problem, then why doesn’t Time come and take my ability to LOAD, SAVE, and RESET themselves? Why send a messenger boy to do its bidding like a coward?” They hiss without regard for what they’re talking about.

This doesn’t seem to bother the Knight as he sets the helmet on the desk next to his latte and grins, lips moving imperceptibly quickly as if to mutter an incantation beneath his breath. Slowly, the helmet seems to emanate a stream of dark smoke out of the eyes, as if something were beginning to burn within it. The eyes themselves, accented too with a bright orange, begin to glow, giving off that same eerie look as the glowing eyes within the helmet did. 

It suddenly felt as if the eyes of Time itself were watching them through the helmet.

“Because it isn’t yer time yet. You’ll yet learn what ‘appens when ya screw wit’ the flow of time f’ what wants ta ‘appen. It doesn’t ‘ave to do anythin’.” His eyes drift towards the arm they’ve kept an illusion over most days. “You’ve already done far more than it could’ve ever dreamed o’, after all.”

Instinctively, their right hand comes up to hold their left, almost snarling at the man in front of them, scooting back in their rolling chair away from the smoke as it gets closer to them. They can feel the anxiety rising, and they can’t look away from the helmet, convinced that Time was watching them and they had already said what would steal the rest of their time in the most horrific of fashions. Shit. Shit shit shit! What are they supposed to do?!

They don’t have to think for long, because the man picks up his latte, then his helmet. The helmet is hung on a hook at his waist, still smoking, and he takes a long sip of his latte. 

“Wha’ was tha’ one song like?”

The Knight smiles serenely. 

“Karma’s goin’ to come collect yer debt.”

And he turns and walks out without another word.

After a few minutes to breathe and filter out the smoke, they watch the door in a healthy level of fear of who was here. Who was that? Why could they brush off the presence of a draconic being of creation? And why did they have such close ties to Time? To have Time reflected in one’s eyes, a color of BRAVERY at its purest. Who was that? 

And why does it suddenly feel like they’re on the wrong side of a Hunt?

[yourlocalslasher]

I’m craving some sunshine yeehaw boy. Any writing requests for Bubba or the other Sawyer bros would be nice to cure this boredom I currently have :P

[cosmosfated]

Pffffffffffft, good luck trying to get Lost arrested by normal means. God, thats rich.

“Uuuuugh! Shut up! I have to get back to my home and unwind before bed. My day off is tomorrow.” They growl out as they clean up everything proper and keep everything organized the way it should be. No one else was here. Don’t double take.