Obviously I had to make it a thing (Patreon)
Spoilers for Handplates! Make sure you’re all caught up before continuing!
I ended up scene-picking around the timeline at pretty-much-random, whatever I thought fit the lyrics the best in the moment of blinding inspiration (lol), but now that I’ve got the basics down to paper, I think I’d more carefully choose in mostly-chronological order. That also means some would have to be cut, so I want to show them off here! :D I also drew them all from memory so if there’s inconsistencies, that’s why lol
For example this is one of the very early lyrics, but the events take place well down the timeline! I’m sure I can find a good stand in - mostly I just wanted to draw Papyrus from this scene, ugh I love him ♥ And the lyrics do fit!
Looking back to Sans for reassurance haha. I changed a few of the lyrics to be more Papyrus-specific -
- also featured here! He’s got the Gaster pose going on here hehe, and cutting around in time of him in Snowdin and also back at Asgore’s, him reassuring Asgore about Sans’ HP is so cute, I had to make reference to it haha
Happiest little sibling spinnies <3 <3 Probably the cutest panel of the whole bunch honestly haha ♥ Their little faces!! Ugh 💕
One of those instances of the lyrical contradictions, and I think I would keep this jump forward - everything has changed! And they’re really not okay, but they have each other
The one makes me laugh honestly, a bit dark lol. All their safe people, except for the two that take up the rear of each. I mean, technically it’s not inaccurate with Flowey’s, he won’t be alone! Unfortunately. The human, well
Started settling into a rhythm by this point, and rather pleased for it :) Poor Papyrus! He didn’t do anything wrong and he still has all these sad feelings about it!
All catching up to him :( You can only run from and ignore your problems for so long - this line feels so him, dealing with what their world is and all that entails, poorly
I appreciate the fact that Papyrus has this dream several times, it fits lots of places! Gaster look what you did to him even when you don’t exist anymore
Papyrus as an adult! Though he also is in the one with him and Sans dream-sharing. Things start breaking real bad for him, I’m still not over how good this song is lol
I did admittedly go a little over-the-top with these, he was not crying this much but I just jsalfdjfds this scene is so- much. So much! The lyrics goaded me, blame them haha - and also the attention to his neck! Even if it’s not in reference to choking on tears specifically, still drawn to the same place! I love Sans going to comfort him as well as rally him ahhhhh
I got his Soul glitches wrong haha, but seriously! This song, I swear!!
A bit of irony - he’s being heard! So much! Just not listened to. I am so enamoured with his pose callbacks throughout the entire comic ugh, so beautifully done
Handing off the song for a moment to someone who actually can rewind it - I don’t think I’ve ever drawn a Genocide Run human now that I think of it :0 It was so satisfying to draw Gaster kneeling on the ground like that haha, contact points were - on point ✨ for this doodle session hehehe
Originally I had his glow coloured in purple but this was one that I actually went back to look at (because I love this scene so much hhgggg <3 <3 <3) and had to change to his natural colour - he deserves it!! He’s earned it!!
I’ve honestly fallen more in love with this song through him and vice versa haha ♪ It’d be quite a bit before/if I could make a full version, even just with what I’ve got here, but it was so fun to draw at all ♥
37 notes
·
View notes
Today I was rewatching the scene where Sora and Roxas meet in DDD, and I have to say that Roxas’ expression after Sora told him that he deserves to exist kills me every time. The expression of pure shock on Roxas’ face, as he processed the fact that Sora, of all people, was telling him what no one else would. Something that he so much needed, and deserved, to hear.
It’s heartbreaking that Roxas, who had fought with all his being for his identity and for his right to exist, appeared in Sora’s dreams to tell him that “It really has to be you” and that they’re the same (“You’re me, so you can feel what I felt.”), showing that, by that point, he had given up.
But Sora told him that it wasn’t true, that Roxas is Roxas and he deserved to exist just as much as Sora did. The shocked expression on Roxas’ face says it all. No one had ever told him that. No one had ever believed that. By that point, not even Roxas believed that anymore. Sora’s words allowed him to hope again, so he smiled at Sora—a genuine smile—and told him again that that was why it had to be Sora.
Roxas had already accepted Sora, and he respected him after their fight in KH2, but I think this was the moment when he truly started to like Sora. Sora’s words gave him back some hope, and Sora didn’t just say that, but went out of his way afterwards to honour those words and make sure that Roxas could exist.
528 notes
·
View notes
Once, Always
(Edmund has an abundance of birthdays)
.
“I say,” murmured Edmund sleepily as the fire burned low. “When do you suppose it is here? I mean—what time of year? Do you think it’s the beginning of September, the same as it was in England?”
“Summer,” said Lucy. “Certainly summer.”
Peter agreed. “I think it must be Highgrass, if I had to guess. Perhaps later. Greenroof?”
“If it’s Greenroof, then Edmund gets another birthday,” Lucy sighed. “Eleven or twelve, Ed?”
“Neither,” put in Susan. “A thousand, if you’re going to rationalize it that way. Now everyone hush, please, and get some sleep.”
.
Edmund’s birthday was the fifteenth day of Greenroof by the Narnian reckoning. Greenroof, late summer, when all the leaves were dark and broad. Narnian summers were long, but Greenroof was the last and best of the summer months. Greenroof was hunts through the dense foliage, blackberries heavy with juice, lazy afternoons, bonfires, wild romps, and the pleasant kind of sweat. Edmund’s birthday celebrations were always held on Dancing Lawn in the old days: the sort of long, laughter-bright nights that summer was made for.
.
The second time Edmund celebrated his eleventh birthday, it was just past three months since he and his siblings had returned home from the country. Their house was glass-strewn and battered, but still standing when they arrived home. By August it was beginning to feel really safe again, but sometimes Edmund still woke in the night to find his mother standing silent in the doorway, drinking in the sight of her two sons returned to her.
The professor sent one of Ivy’s famous spice cakes for Edmund’s birthday. It arrived tied in red string, which made Lucy reminisce fondly about dear Mr. Tumnus. Edmund’s siblings pooled their allowances to buy him the new Nero Wolfe detective novel, and his mother gave him a new cap and an electric torch.
“How do you feel?” his mother asked over dinner.
“I don’t feel any older, if that’s what you mean,” he said. “Eleven feels just the same as ten did yesterday.”
.
All four of them missed their birthdays the first year in Narnia. Too much else was going on at the time, and none of them was quite sure when their birthdays were supposed to be besides. The measurement of time was a thoroughly tangled issue.
The Narnian year had four hundred days even, divided into fourteen months of inconsistent lengths. Furthermore, the kingdom had only known winter for the last hundred years. The Narnians themselves were still remembering how the calendar worked in a world where the seasons changed. They didn’t have the words yet to explain it to their sovereigns.
.
“Eustace,” said Edmund, “your journal is wrong.”
“Give me that,” Eustace scowled at once. “I know it’s wrong, but there’s no need to rub my face in it. Aren’t I trying to make up for how I was?”
“No, no, that’s not what I meant. The month is wrong. You’ve got September written here, but time works differently in Narnia than it does in the Other Place. Haven’t you noticed that it’s summer, not autumn?”
“Oh.” Eustace shrugged. “I followed Occam’s Razor and assumed that the climate here was different rather than time itself.”
“Occam’s what?” This was Lucy.
“Occam’s Razor: the simplest solution to a problem is the most likely—never mind. Well, go on, what month is it?”
“Highgrass,” said Lucy.
“July,” said Edmund at the same moment. “More or less.”
.
They worked it all out one afternoon as the second spring of their reign was ending. Peter and Susan wrote out the English calendar on one stack of parchment while Edmund and Lucy sat down with the Narnian calendar and penciled in seasonal markers as best they could manage.
“The first crocuses came up right at the end of Cleardome, yes?”
“Yes, I think so. And the snowdrops were in their full glory that month too.”
“How do you want to deal with leap year?”
“Just forget about it. Narnia doesn’t have anything similar, so I think twenty-eight days for February is fine for our purposes.”
“Magnolia in Laceveil, yes?”
“Laceveil is a good marker in general. We ought to set that as May and go from there.”
Birthdays were guesses, no matter how much counting they did. Yet as memories of England receded and Narnia’s world blossomed into everything they knew, those guesses solidified into fact. Edmund turned eleven for the first time on the fifteenth day of Greenroof. He was the first of his siblings to celebrate a proper birthday in Narnia.
.
The fourth time Edmund turned twelve, he received another electric torch to replace the one he’d lost. He laughed for half a minute, holding that gift in his hand.
“Really, you should have expected it,” said Susan primly.
"I did."
Their mother tsked and added something about keeping track of one’s belongings, but that was alright. His siblings understood.
Edmund flicked on the light and watched the beam land on the far wall across the living room. Bright at the edges and dark towards the center where the bulb was. He moved his wrist sideways and watched the spot of light follow.
.
Edmund might have forgotten about his birthday aboard the Dawn Treader if Lucy hadn’t remembered. She conspired with the cook to have a spread of Edmund’s favorite foods at supper (such as could be managed at sea) and coerced Rynelf into playing jigs on his fiddle afterwards. While they were dancing, Caspian called for a cask of his best wine, and soon the ship’s whole company was making merry like only Narnians could.
“Didn’t you have a twelfth birthday the last time you were in Narnia?” Caspian asked curiously as the party was dying down.
“Yes,” Edmund replied, “and the time before that too. Confused yet?”
“Ed has all the luck,” Lucy pouted playfully. “We always seem to return to Narnia in the summer, so he gets all the extra birthdays.”
Caspian's face lit up. “How extraordinary! When’s yours then?”
“Cleardome. There’s a year and a half between Ed and me, and he never lets me forget it.”
“It’s really not as exciting as all that,” Edmund added. “We’re not living our lives backwards, or unstuck in time, or any such nonsense. It’s more like—our lives are folded in on themselves, you see? But never the same way twice.”
“I think it’s more like music than anything else,” Lucy said, a kind of fond wistfulness in her voice.
“Yes,” said Edmund. “I know what you mean.”
.
On the thirteenth of Greenroof, the Telmarines laid down their arms and surrendered to Old Narnia. The next day, messengers were sent forth across the land with news of the surrender and with terms for the Telmarines. Caspian’s coronation followed, and then Edmund woke and it was his birthday again.
Breakfast that morning was long and languid, for Peter and Susan knew that they must say farewell to Narnia, even if the younger ones did not. They lingered round the table with Caspian and Trumpkin and the rest, and presently Peter offered a toast.
“To my brother King Edmund, who is eleven and twelve and sixty-three and thirteen hundred years old today.”
Everyone raised their cups and repeated, “King Edmund.” Caspian nodded and added, “Long live the king,” with an almost ironic tilt to his head.
Naturally, Edmund nodded back. “And to you, King Caspian. Long may you reign.”
Another round of assent followed, and then Lucy cleared her throat. “But also,” she said, “To late summer and the rebirth of Our Narnia. And to the land, the sea, the hills, the trees, the sky, Cair Paravel-by-the-sea and Dancing Lawn and all the flowers that are still in bloom. And to the color green. To all of us here today, and to those who are gone. And to Aslan.”
“Here, here.”
There were tears in Susan’s eyes now. “Happy birthday,” she whispered, and squeezed Edmund’s hand tight. Edmund looked down at his plate, fiercely overcome with love for this place and these people. In a strict, chronological sense, it had been less than a month since his last birthday, but how did the saying go? Time was just a tangled string, or falling snow, or whatever else Aslan told it to be.
.
“Bother,” said Edmund, “I’ve left my new torch in Narnia.”
Everyone chuckled at this, but Susan said, “Wait a year. We’ll get you a new one for your next birthday.”
166 notes
·
View notes