#chapter 10 has me in shambles and my brain just..exploding | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mlqcconfessions · 4 years

Note

Can I request a some hurt/comfort? How would our guys react to MC being in a coma and waking up from it? Take care of yourself!

We are always reminded of MC’s unnecessary courage, especially towards the later chapters. Every time she gets into trouble, the boys are there to save her.

But from Chapter 10+, we see that they won’t come to our rescue every time.

And that made me really sad (I JUST WANT HAPPY ENDINGS Y'ALL)

So I’m using this opportunity to write alternate endings for some of the darkest stories for each of the boys (and I had to use my imagination for these, so they may be a little lacking)

This took me a LOT LONGER than I expected, so that’s why my headcanons weren’t updating lately

Warning: There are spoilers for the main story (Ch 11-15)

MLQC Headcanon - As long as you’re here

Victor (Spoilers for Ch 11)

He’s been through this once already as kids

He’s never been prepared for another one

He always thought...since he’s here with you now.....he would be able to protect you

He believed he had changed

That he was no longer the weak boy from years ago

This is why he’s taking it so hard on himself

You were the only thing on his mind (even work was irrelevant)

He’s looking at you sleeping so soundly in the hospital bed

It’s as if you would wake at any moment

But he knows.....it’s not good to raise hopes

How long has it been.....8 days?

He glances around the hospital room (a daily routine he does)

Just to make sure everything is in pristine condition

But he doesn’t realize that he himself was in shambles

He prepared the best amenities for your hospitalization

The nurses kept talking about him, the CEO of LFG

Some attempted to get noticed by him (which did succeed to a certain extent)

They paid more attention to him than to you

“Are you going to keep doing your job halfheartedly?”

“P....pardon?”

“I have no need for unprofessional workers who can’t focus in front of their patients. Please leave” (The hospital’s Chief had to bow his head in apology)

Of course, Victor didn’t care about such trivial matters

All he was concerned about was your health

He had been watching over you nearly 24/7

He regularly calls Goldman to bring over his work to the hospital (he says he can’t go himself because then he’ll have to leave you)

For once, Goldman doesn’t care that he’s not paid enough

--------------------

You wake up to blinding lights, forcing your eyes to stay closed

After getting adjusted, you look around

Am I....in a hospital? (your eyes fall on the IV drip above you)

You turn your head (a short pain rings in your back), finding Victor laying his head on the bed

His hands are tightly grasping yours, knuckles shaky and pale

You raise your other hand to smooth his hair (it’s a little oily?)

He slowly opens his eyes, realizes the hand on his head, and quickly shoots up

His mouth is open, but he’s not saying anything

You laugh a little at this new Victor (you wish you could’ve taken a picture)

“Haha...good morning, Victor”

It’s only until you show him your usual smile that he regains himself

“......dummy....”

He bends down to pick up some papers that had toppled over

You don’t notice that he wipes a tear that was falling on his face

Kiro (Spoilers for Ch 14)

He didn’t want to have to do this

But it was the only way to save you (to keep you safe)

He hadn’t planned on using absolute control on you

After all, he knew you wouldn’t want to leave him by himself on that rooftop

But he had no choice

He would much rather sacrifice himself if it meant protecting you

And there was no telling what he would do if you got hurt

He dare not meet your eyes when he made you walk by him

There would’ve been a resisting force, making him want to hug you right away

It took him everything he had to not cancel his evol at that moment

As soon as he heard the door lock with a click, he turned to focus on his enemy

There wasn’t much to the fight anyways (his evol was overpowering)

But he couldn’t help but worry about you on the other side of that door

He figured you would be crying your eyes out, but there was nothing he could do

You, on the other hand, were trying your hardest to break Kiro’s control

But to no avail

All you could do was pound on the door, until your hands started to bleed

This went on for who knows how long

At this point, you were slumped over on the ground (your poundings have gotten much weaker)

You balled up your hands into fists, your last attempts to stay focused

Your nails dig into your palms, but it doesn’t faze you one bit (although it does quite hurt)

Was it fatigue, or was it exasperation.....but you started to lose your sight until everything was pitch black

Meanwhile, the noises outside come to a halt

Kiro hobbles over to the door (he wasn’t injured, just overwhelmed with fatigue)

He’s surprised to find you lying on the floor, unconscious

As much as he wants to take you to your home, he knows he doesn’t have the right to do that (not after what he just did to you)

But....it’s even more dangerous to leave you here

--------------------

He treats your hands with the first aid kit in your apartment

You slowly wake up to see Kiro struggling with the bandages (he was never great at things like these)

With your other hand, you reach up to cup his face

He’s startled (he wasn’t expecting you to wake up this quickly)

“Kiro.....”

He doesn’t say anything, but just looks at you with a pained expression on his face

He gets up to leave, but you grab onto his shirt

“No...please.....don’t leave....”

He turns around, bites his lower lip, and gently tugs your hand off from him

“......I’m sorry....I command you....”

“Kiro.......!”

“.....go to sleep”

You don’t remember anything after this point, not even the fact that he tucked you in

Or the fact that he stayed a little longer by your side (to burn you into his memories before leaving)

“.....sweet dreams, MC”

Lucien (Spoilers for Ch 13)

He knew you were brave

But he also knew you were careless

You hadn’t realized how deep your punctured wound went, and quickly lost consciousness

He wanted to rush towards you, to catch you in his arms

He wanted to apologize that he’s made you go this far

But he just stood there, looking at your fragile figure with indifference

He slowly walked over, and got on one knee to inspect your condition

He had to pry Iridescent out of your hands (for fear that you would try to stab yourself again)

All the while, he remained calm

As if what he just saw affected him no less than a falling leaf

But of course, the truth was much different

If he showed the slightest bit of emotion, the men would take you away from him

He was already being suspected of a traitor by them (it’s more advantageous to be seen as your enemy......for your sake)

“She’s fainted (he pushes some hair out of your eyes). I’ll take care of things from here”

“Ares, you can’t—!”

“We need her alive, wouldn’t we?” (the other agents can feel the hostility in his voice)

After he receives silent confirmation, he picks you up in his arms and takes you to his apartment

He rests you on the bed, and prepares everything to treat you

He effectively manages to stop the bleeding, but he’s unable to close the wound

It’s going to scar.....

As he looks at you, his heart becomes foggy

He has so many things to say.....so many things to explain

If only you realized his true feelings

But he knew it would only bring you harm if you got close to him

After all, HE was the one deceiving you this entire time

And that’s all you needed to believe

--------------------

When you open your eyes, you realize you’re back in your house (it’s dark except for some light from outside)

As you try to stand up, you flinch as your neck stings in pain

It’s bandaged.......Lucien!

You quickly look around the room, grabbing on to the slightest hope that he would be here

Your shoulders slink back as you laugh to yourself (at your own foolishness)

He lied to me.......he......

You cover your face with the pillow, trying to take everything in

You reach out to the bedside table for your phone, dropping something in the process

As you go to pick it up, your heart feels like it’s about to explode

Iridescent is lying on the floor, the tip no longer covered with your blood

As if it’s unaware of your muffled cries, it shines brightly in the moonlight peering through your windows

Gavin (Spoilers for Ch 15)

The wind had been blowing for hours on end, keeping his tears from falling down his face

There wasn’t much he could’ve done to prevent this

To prevent you from taking a bullet to your shoulder

No, he thought

I was right there next to her.....

There were so many things he could have done

That he SHOULD HAVE done

He looks down at you, writhing in pain, clutching at your shoulder

He knows how bullet wounds feel like (all the more reason why he’s so hard on himself)

Luckily, the two of you managed to escape STF during that chase

That doesn’t mean he was unscathed, as well

When heard you scream, he lost control of his evol

It did throw the STF agents off-course (but it also pushed you along the edge of a cliff)

He quickly grabs hold of you, twisting his body so he breaks the fall

The currents help soften the landing, but the rocks and branches leave scars on his body (he’s just relieved that you’re alive)

He brought you inside an abandoned warehouse, a beat-up Sparky guarding the front door

Lots of thoughts run through his brain while he’s treating your wound (now he knows who his true enemies are)

He skillfully manages to reduce the bleeding (but it doesn’t stop completely)

Meanwhile, your breathing becomes heavy and your heartbeat spikes up

He quickly takes off his shirt to dab the sweat off of your forehead (it’s not the cleanest, but it’s better than nothing)

He looks around for a water source

No luck (but he does find some wood for the fireplace)

--------------------

He quickly returns to the warehouse, nervous about leaving you alone

“..Gavin....”

The firewood in his hands clatter as they fall to the ground (without a moment’s hesitation, he’s by your side)

“MC....?” (the tears he had been holding back are now falling, each drop hitting your hand that he’s desperately clutching)

You find it hard to speak, only capable of muttering sounds

There’s so many things you want to say...that you NEED to say

But the sounds of agonized crying fills your ears (you’ve never heard him cry before, let alone this loud)

Little did you know that these tears were not of pain, but of relief

He’s holding onto you so tight, as if he’s trying to make sure you don’t leave him

The sun slowly rises once again, a gentle breeze blowing over the fallen leaves in the silent environment

Welp this was more hurt than comfort

This is not what I had initially planned.

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spinach-productions · 7 years

Text

Baby Spinach, chapter 10

Summary: Gaster is stealthy, agile, and a decent marksman, in that order.

Word count: 2740

Sorry for the radio silence guys, I’ve had some Real Life stuff going on. But! It’s been mostly resolved, and I’m back for the foreseeable future!

Thank you ten million times to @spocksbedsidemanner, who is a fantastic editor and really helped me get this thing into shape.

Enjoy!

On this list of things Gaster doesn’t like to do, stealth ranks just below lying and deception. Luckily, he’s much more skilled at this one than the others. He takes a seat next to the imposter after dinner and starts a conversation about his work, asking questions about the nature of the blue human soul as he silently fishes the large keyring from his pocket. It’s nerve-racking work, but Gaster manages to palm the keys up his sleeve without attracting attention.

In spite of his disingenuous pretense, Gaster finds himself absorbed in the imposter’s explanations. His work, though gruesome, is fascinating; cobbling two functional monsters from bits and piece of incompatible souls is no small feat. Under different circumstances, this man could have been a brilliant scientist.

“But you only took small samples of the two souls,” Gaster asks, skipping over the details of where those souls came from, “What did you do to fuse them together?”

The imposter grins widely and ushers Gaster into the maze of shelves. He takes a series of twisting turns, chattering about the resilience of humanity. “It’s a shame they’re trying to destroy us,” he says as they pass another series of intersections.

The space opens into the center area, which is dominated by the covered cylinder and the varied equipment standing guard over it. The imposter takes a corner of the dropcloth and yanks it off, like a magician performing a trick. Gaster is momentarily blinded by the blue glare. He peers around his own arm at the human child’s soul, suspended in some kind of liquid-filled tank.

“I thought you took pieces of this?” he asks.

“I did,” the imposter replies. He’s looking at the soul with something close to reverence. “It healed.”

“What?”

“Let me explain: human bodies are slightly more durable than monster bodies because they expend energy on magic. But their souls are infinitely stronger! I’ve taken enough from this one that it should be nonfunctional, but each time it would generate enough material to repair itself.”

He conjures his own soul in one hand. Gaster gasps. It’s battered and painfully torn, missing pieces along the edges. Two sizeable fragments have been removed, leaving only two-thirds remaining. What must have once been an impressive blue glow now pulses irregularly, giving off bursts of light between long moments of dimness.

“This is what the human soul should look like,” the imposter says, staring his own damaged soul. “But it doesn’t. The human soul combined with the pieces of mine to bring my sons to life.”

This man willing mutilated himself in the hopes of breaking the barrier. Gaster shudders and averts his eyes. He tightens his fingers around the keyring in his pocket. Sans and Papyrus will not stay in this man’s custody for another day, he decides. They leave tonight.

The only source of light is the blue soul. It sits uncovered in its chamber, casting blue light over the various shelves. Some of the more reflective items bounce the light back; otherwise, the room is murky and dark.

The path to the door is short if done in a straight shot, but Gaster and the children skirt around and behind furniture to avoid being in the open. Sans is breathing quickly, but quietly. Gaster doesn’t dare breathe at all. Even Papyrus seems to understand the need for silence as they make their way across the room.

Finally, they reach the front door. Gaster hands Papyrus to Sans, pulls the keyring from his pocket, and begins flipping through the numerous keys. There must be more than a dozen, each unlabeled and barely distinguishable from the others. The keys to Sans’ and Papyrus’ rooms were found through trial and error, so Gaster tries each one on the two front door keyholes, hoping to complete the process without drawing attention.

Five minutes later, none of the combinations have worked.

“What’s wrong?” Sans hisses.

Gaster’s mouth thins into a long, irritated line. This was a completely predictably scenario. The imposter sacrificed a scientific career and at least ten years of his life on the children and the human heart, of course getting out wouldn’t be as easy as grabbing the keys from his pocket.

From behind him, someone clears their throat.

Gaster turns around.

In the stress of the moment, he missed that one of the things reflecting the human soul’s blue glow was a pair of reading glasses, perched at the end of the imposter’s nose. He’s sitting at one of the reading tables, pouring over one of the many stacks of paper that seems to live there. It’s hard to tell in the dim light, but he seems amused.

“Having some difficulty there, Doctor?” the imposter asks.

Gaster pushes the children behind him. “I’d like the keys.”

“And why would I give you those?”

“Because I’d like to leave.”

“And I suppose you intend to take my children with you?”

“I do.”

“I see.” He closes a notebook and puts it to the side. “Tell me, Doctor, what exactly gives you that right?”

“I don’t believe you’d understand my explanation,” Gaster replies.

The imposter removes his glasses and sets them on top of the notebook. “No matter what your intentions were in coming here, this is your place now. My sons’ destiny is to save monsterkind from this wretched cave system; yours is to help me prepare them for it. I’m sure you understand why I cannot allow you to leave.”

“I’m equally sure you understand why I can’t stay.”

The man stands and steps away from the table. He’s taller than when he first took his own shape, and his skin is beginning to take on an off-white color. “Then we seem to have reached an impasse,” he says through teeth that are now longer and sharper than his own.

Gaster throws both the children and himself behind the closest shelf as the imposter tries to grab his soul with a blue grip. Papyrus lets out a sharp cry as the shelf turns blue and books begin to fly in every direction.

“Hide!” Gaster yells over the deafening sounds of books hitting the walls and floor.

“He’s going to kill you!” Sans shouts back.

Papyrus wails.

“I won’t allow that,” Gaster says, steering both himself and Sans around the corner as another shelf’s contents explode into the room, “I’m still going to get us out of here. But to do that, I need to know that you’re safe. I wouldn’t have a reason to leave if anything happened to you.”

Sans is staring at him again. He seems to be developing a habit.

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” Gaster says over the din.

Sans clutches Gaster’s shirt with one hands and holds Papyrus close with the other. “Don’t die, okay?”

“I won’t,” Gaster promises. He squeezes Sans shoulder, then pushes him towards his room.

Gaster has been in exactly three fights. Two were due to misunderstandings, and the third was when the Royal Institution wanted to see if his new body would still work for testing purposes. While his overall shape was reminiscent of a human, the magic he carried over from his ghost form made him unsuitable for anti-human combat training. Not being able to help the war effort was a disappointment. But now, as purple energy forms between his palms and spins into long strands between his fingers, Gaster is quite pleased with how things turned out.

He dives out from behind the shelf just as it explodes, sending papers and wooden shards hurtling into the room; Gaster catches some of the debris in a hastily-spun web and hurls them back as he dashes for new cover. The imposter gives a dog-like yelp. He appears to have shifted into an enormous bipedal white dog with pointed ears. Gaster recognizes the form as one of the guards who covered the library crime scene after Sans and Papyrus were kidnapped. The imposter has clearly chosen physical prowess over agility in this fight. That, Gaster strategizes as he follows the lines of magic back to the imposter’s chest, might be what keeps him alive.

He throws out a purple line, aiming for the concentration of magic that hopefully contains his soul, but the imposter knocks the line aside with an enormous arm. Gaster’s accuracy is his best attribute, but his threads are brittle on their own; this one breaks upon contact and flutters to the ground. The imposter snarls and hefts a table over his shoulders in retaliation and hurls it across the room. Gaster throws himself to the side; the table smashes against the floor where he was standing, splintering into thousands of sharp pieces. His brain begins calculating the force of the impact (and if it would have outright killed him, or simply mangled his body enough for the imposter to catch him--), but he shoves the thoughts away and sprints into the maze of bookshelves for cover.

They volley back and forth as they wind through the narrow space between shelves. The imposter decimates anything Gaster uses as a shield, leaving the furniture in shambles; Gaster throws back what he can, but hasn’t been able to snag the imposter’s soul. They around each other, Gaster running ahead at each opportunity and the imposter slowly stalking after him.

Gaster ducks behind another shelf and finds himself in the open space made for the human soul and its monitoring equipment. He sprints to the center, vaulting over the machinery and scooting behind the bubbling container. Hopefully, the soul’s sparkling glow will hide Gaster long enough for him to form a strategy.

The imposter comes crashing around the same shelf a moment later, carrying one of the tables as an impromptu shield and leaving long gouges on the floor as his claws skid and dig into the tiles. Gaster watches as he sniffs the air with his newly canine nose. That, he reflects, is probably how the imposter has managed to track him so closely.

“I know you’re here,” the imposter says.

Gaster thinks it would be beyond foolish to reply, so he doesn’t.

“Well, I know you’re close,” the imposter corrects himself “I don’t know exactly where you are, but that makes this so much more exciting, don’t you think?”

He begins to move through the area. Gaster edges around the tank, keeping it between him and the man who is currently an eight-foot-tall dog with superior teeth and senses.

“Think of all we could have accomplished together, Doctor,” the imposter says as he stalks towards a control panel, “I hoped you would be able to put your emotions aside for the greater good, but I can see that was asking too much.”

Gaster takes the opportunity to slide behind a piece of machinery on the opposite side of the tank. He watches as the imposter sets down the table so it shields the panel, then starts fiddling with the computers. Gaster leans as far out of his hiding spot as he dares, but can’t get a clear shot.

“Do you know why I made the boys instead of taking the soul myself?” the imposter says as he continues to input commands into the console. “I wanted to have a backup plan in case I couldn’t complete the assignment. Human bodies are fragile, but their souls seem able to replenish themselves almost limitlessly.”

The soul dims slightly. The various monitors beep a quick warning, then go silent. Something hisses, and a piece of the containment unit begins to slide open.

“I can’t risk you going to the authorities with this information, Doctor.” He reaches into the opening and carefully removes the soul from its container. Its illuminates the small space. “Besides, I’ve always been curious about the world on the other side of the—”

The table is jerked out of the way.

The imposter spins around, looking for the cause.

Gaster summons a fistful of strings and pitches them directly at the imposter. They wrap around his wrists and pull both defending arms away from his chest—

“No!”

Several make contact with his soul. It momentarily lights up in its natural blue (dimmer than the human soul, Gaster notes), then floods with purple as Gaster’s magic takes hold. Gaster braids the strands connecting his hands to the imposter’s soul and pulls.

The imposter collapses to his knees. He thrashes against the purple magic, howling and lunging at the monster holding him down. He shifts into Lieutenant Donahue, into his own form, into something even larger and more intimidating than the royal guard Gaster fought, each form lasting just a moment before he discards it and moves on to the next, creating a hideous amalgam state between each. Gaster watches him struggle. The hatred in his chest, carried since this man first invaded his house and told him how Sans and Papyrus came into the world, slides aside just enough for a wisp of pity to come through. Gaster observes it, but doesn’t act on it.

Instead, he throws out a line for the dead human soul, pulsing silently on the floor where it was thrown in the imposter’s struggle. It fits easily in his palm. To someone else, the color might be considered beautiful.

Gaster considers the human soul in his hand, the man at the end of his magic, and the endless list of crimes this man has committed in the name of integrity. People’s lives have been ruined. Sans’ eyepatch. Papyrus’ fear of being left alone. Something vicious stirs in Gaster’s chest. The secondary poison inherent in his magic begins to leach into the imposter’s soul.

The imposter hisses as his health points begin to burn away. “This isn’t over,” he snarls.

Gaster doesn’t answer.

“This doesn’t end until I say it ends!”

He tightens the strands between his fingers until the tension makes his arm shake. The imposter grits his teeth and begins to tremble.

“Stop!”

Gaster startles out of his own thoughts as Sans comes hurdling out from behind a shelf. He throws himself into Gaster’s mid-section and throws both arms around him. “Don’t kill him,” he begs.

“Sans,” Gaster says quietly, “This man will never stop looking for you. Do you understand? He wants to turn you into a human-killing machine, he wants to turn Papyrus into a human-killing machine, and he won’t stop until that happens.”

The blue soul casts streaks of illumination over Sans’ face when he looks up. They catch on the gauze taped over his right eye and the watery tears welling in the left. “He’s my dad.”

Gaster looks at the undersized child clinging to his waist. He looks at the wretched man caught in his web, and the human soul stolen from a murdered human child in his hand. He takes a deep breath and thinks about his home: a playpen in the sitting room, kitchen cabinets stocked with baby food and ketchup, toys strewn about as they wait for two children to come back. Gaster lets the breath out slowly and feels himself settle.

“I’m sorry,” he says, storing the soul in his inventory so he can wrap the other arm around Sans, “I almost got carried away.”

“I want to go home,” Sans says.

Gaster pulls him in for a proper embrace. “Okay.”

The imposter apparently keeps the front door keys on a necklace, separate from the others on the ring. It takes some concentration to fish it out and keep him pinned down while Sans goes for help, but somehow, when Lieutenant Donahue comes charging shield first down the ladder, both Gaster and the imposter are alive and no further harmed. He gladly releases the imposter into Donahue’s custody, and gives a rough outline of the situation as other guards investigate the underground laboratory and process the imposter’s arrest. Sans keeps Gaster between himself and his father through the process, holding Papyrus close.

Donahue whistles. “Never would have suggested this if I’d known it’d put you in the middle of a fight,” she says, punching Gaster’s shoulder.

Gaster rubs the punch site with his opposite hand. “I must admit, the possibility did cross my mind, but I was prepared for it.”

She looks over Gaster’s shoulder at Sans. He’s staring at the ladder as the guards escort the imposter back to the royal facility, and he’s gripping the back of Gaster’s shirt tightly with his free hand. “Guess some things are worth fighting for,” she agrees.

- Baby Spinach - Part 10

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#Spinach Productions #baby spinach #undertale #fanfiction #fanfic #undertale fanfiction #undertale fanfic #undertale gaster #undertale sans #undertale papyrus #baby bones

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