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daflangstlairde-art · 2 days ago

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"Leaves You to Rot (I Am Real, You Are Not)" 3,502 words

Part 4 of whenever, wherever (we'll always be together)

Fanfic summary:

Dust has a not-so-great day. Red's there.

Content warnings and further information on ao3.

—

...A’ight, what woke him up this time?

Red blinked, eyes heavy. Judging by the low blue light through the tiny slits in the curtains, it was the asscrack of dawn. Just enough light to see the room, but dark as fuck anyway. There was a bird right outside the window, given its chirpin’ was muffled but audible.

...And just one set of breathing.

Red turned his sleep-heavy head to the side. Yep. Dust wasn't there.

He sighed.

Closed his eyes, still fuzzy with exhaustion. Felt around with a hand.

Dust’s side of the mattress was still warm. Red could also feel the lingering charge of magic. Like electricity in the air. Like ozone. ‘Cept it was slipping between his senses rapidly. So that musta just happened too.

Red breathed in and sighed again, heavy.

Dust was probably just... out to smoke. This wasn't abnormal. In the time Dust’d been here, Red frequently woke up to him gone, out on the balcony to smoke, to clear his head or somethin’. Should be fine.

Red shuffled to make himself comfortable again, pulling the blanket over himself, and went back to snoozing.

—

Red woke up more properly a couple of hours later, ‘bout his usual time. He pushed himself to sit up in bed, rubbing his face. It was about three days after the whole bullshit at the festival, and his scapula was entirely healed, thankfully. Just a small indent there, rougher, but it's not like his bones were particularly smooth to begin with. He rolled his right shoulder, rubbing it with his left hand, and felt no residual pain. Nice.

He dragged himself to his feet, to get dressed for the day. He paid little mind to the scuff marks on the wall closer to Dust’s side, which weren't there before.

His first day of recovery, he was left to his devices (mostly eating, sleeping, and keepin’ Dust company) — but after that, occasionally, he’d be called up to help with the aftermath. Which wasn't great, but like most things, they were dealing with it. They’d live. The fucker shot first, which absolutely coulda killed Red. Everyone assumed it was just... self-defense, since the blaster looked like Red’s attacks. Humans were still all freaked out by magic, but the morality of the situation was pretty understandable for most rational people.

He exited his bedroom. The light in the living room was low and desaturated. He inhaled deeply. Mm. All of that, coupled with the pressure that made him feel even heavier, it had clearly rained outside. Fantastic.

...Red wasn’t seein’ a familiar silhouette through the blinds. He shuffled over to the balcony, cracking open the door. The cold and the smell of rain hit him at full intensity. He corrected himself — it was still raining.

Dust wasn't out smokin’.

Red closed the door. Went over to the bathroom and knocked, calling out “dust?”

...

...Silence. No reply. Then again, Dust often didn't reply verbally. Hm. Red waited for a few more moments just to make sure.

He pulled out his phone to text.

red: ey where r you

Though if Dust was, like, takin’ a bath or something, he might not be able to reply. Red tapped his foot. The message sat on ‘sent’for several minutes.

While waiting, he distracted himself by making coffee. He was feelin’ something sweeter today, so after pouring the dark liquid into a cup, he even added honey and milk.

Checked his phone. Message delivered. No reply.

Red started making himself eggs. He debated making a portion for Dust too. He doubted the guy made himself food.

...Eh. Might as well, while he was at it. Red doubled the portion. Hopefully Dust liked sunny side up.

He listened to the eggs sizzling as he checked his phone again. Still on ‘delivered’.

He brought out two plates and distributed the eggs between ‘em evenly (even if it was unlikely Dust would eat that much). His phone vibrated with a notification and Red scrambled (heh) to check it.

dust: out

Fuck. That couldn't be good. Out? By himself? Shiiit.

Alright, Red, chill. Dust was a grown ass man. He could answer for his own well-being... mostly. He could go out wherever and whenever he damn well pleased.

Red just... mentally prepared himself to bust the face of anyone who upset Dust. Hypothetically.

red: out? shere?

dust: mt ebott

Oh. Alright. Yeah, he was probably at their stargazing spot. And there was probably nobody there. Phew. The guy probably just needed a breath of fresh air. In… the pouring rain.

red: u good?

He waited on ‘seen’. No reply. Alright. He thought of something easier to ask.

red: ok if i come?

red: got food

Waited longer. Decided to put Dust’s portion of eggs into a plastic tupperware box and into his Inventory. In case Dust wanted to stay out.

Waited. Message sat on ‘seen’. Red didn't bother sitting at the couch to eat his eggs, just remained leaned against the kitchen counter. Occasionally sipping his coffee. Making use of the time to reply to some other text messages.

Seems Dust wasn't gonna reply. That definitely didn't have Red worried. Nope. Not at all. He don't even know what worry is.

...Aaand he was shortcutting to the stargazing clearing.

Like a fuckin’ dumbass, he completely forgot it was raining and remembered it halfway through the Void. So as soon as he appeared for a millisecond, he was gone again. Back to the apartment. To put his jacket’s hood up and get an umbrella for Dust, even if he was probably already drenched.

When Red re-blipped back into existence in the clearing, he paused. The rain pitter-pattering against his open umbrella, which shielded his skull and shoulders. The trees swaying with the wind.

He stared at Dust, several feet away.

Dust’s eye lights were guttered out. Hood on as always. He’d started wearing the red scarf tied around his right hand, covered by his sleeve; but now he clutched it instead.

His face was shadowed. Grin stretched and lookin’ painful as if pinned in place by sewing pins. Absolutely soaked, water droplets running down his face.

With the coldest fuckin’ aura Red’s felt from him thus far, except for two notable occasions — right when he arrived, surrounded by snow, dust clinging to him in clumps; and right when he killed a guy. The Judge himself having committed the sin of taking somebody’s life, justified execution or not.

...And– and his left hand was stretched out towards Red.

And Red didn't dare even breathe. Like his foot was on the trigger of a trap, and any miniscule movement would snap it shut and splatter blood everywhere, except he wouldn't be losin’ just a foot in this scenario.

...But he caught it anyway. One telling detail.

The strong smell of... ozone.

The aftermath of magic in the air.

Red’s soul was beating in his chest. He didn't dare make a single movement. He didn't dare to look away from Dust. Frozen by the chill in the air.

...

...Dust had just fired a blaster right where Red had appeared.

All it had taken was one single attack for Dust to demolish a whole ass human.

Red stood there like a fuckin’ dumbass, holding an umbrella.

No sound was muttered between them. Just the rain and the wind.

It was so cold. Red felt it against his bones.

Red swallowed dryly, and he could almost feel the knife against his throat that was the tension. The tension being exuded by Dust.

...What the hell was Red meant to do?

He found himself asking this question once again. ‘Cause his strength was, admittedly, in his words, but it felt like if he uttered a gck, he wouldn't say nothin’ ever again. Red’s metaphorical heart was beating. Maybe the umbrella was useless for him as well, with how he was sweating.

Just as Red was trying to string together the most efficient sentence for damage control, Dust’s hands flew up and slammed into the sides of his head, and he slightly bent inwards, angling himself away. One hand — the one holdin’ the scarf — curled into a loose fist that knocked against his skull in a painful looking way, several times.

“shut up i told you to shut up!” Dust snapped with the gesture.

...Maybe it would be wise for Red (who totally didn't flinch with Dust’s sudden movement) and his well-being to piss off. Leave Dust be. Clearly he was having... a moment.

But...

Dust had these episodes, sure. Ones where he was... detached. Disoriented. Kept muttering or talking stuff that didn't quite make sense, but didn't quite not make sense. Where the tight grip he had on his magic loosened, unstable.

It wasn't like bein' LV crazy. That made you act more... animalistic, like getting rabies. Erratic and violent. Feral.

“i’m not i’m not i’m goddamn trying!” Dust argued vehemently against... the silence. Gesturing wide and sharp in a way that had Red’s eyes following every lil’ movement, wary of an attack.

“i would be ABLE to if you didn't–” Dust fumed, starting to pace back and forth.

This... wasn't like his other episodes. Same elements, sure, but it was more intense. And Red was pretty sure he usually tried to hide ‘em — he wasn't hiding jack shit right now.

Dust wasn't okay. Red didn't know how to help.

“it’s not real,” Dust growled, the guttural noise then transitioning into an unsteady laugh. “he's not real, they’re not real, you're not real, i’m not– none of it is–! you know this, you know this and you’re still–” pacing back and forth. His slippers absolutely drenched by the rain, stained with mud.

As Red watched him, there was also a slight trembling. Shivering maybe? From the cold seepin’ into his bones? He must've been out for a while. Or maybe it was from this... mania?

“what does it matter?” Dust stopped now, swaying slightly in place. Tipping his head upwards, to look to the stormy sky above. From their positions, Red couldn't see his face. “what does it matter if i do? it doesn't matter, none of this matters none of it–”

And then his hand snapped forwards and a huge blaster shot at the treeline. The slam of magic left a smoking hole in a tree’s trunk, chips from the bark falling to the ground even afterwards.

Glancing around, Red now noticed there were other spots like that. Scuffled from magic bullets.

...That explained why Dust came out here.

“i know that,” Dust muttered, his tone still dripping with hostility the way rain dripped off of his clothes. “i know that, i know what i am, you never let me forget it.”

His hand snapped back up to hit his head, and then clutch at the hood, shoulders hunching, the way someone would when everything was too damn loud.

“you never you never you never–” he muttered quieter, all teeth, “–i know i don't fucking deserve it!” he yelled.

“ay sweetheart–” Red stiffened against his will as Dust’s face snapped towards him, “–dunno who’s tellin’ ya what, but you deserve the world in my humble opinion,”

Just had to keep it calm. Get Dust outta his head, distract him for a sec. Maybe the brash flirting would jar him from... whatever spiral he was hurling down.

‘Course, that wouldn't work immediately. Clearly. Dust just stared at him in silence. Eyes gone.

...At least they weren't blazing with a stream of magic? At least he didn't attack this time?

Red swallowed thickly again. He felt so fuckin’ awkward just standing there holding some umbrella.

“uh,” he cleared his throat, pulling the tupperware box from his Inventory. “i got you eggs,” he held it out in Dust's direction.

The rain rapped against the plastic lid as him and Dust stared at one another. Red was trying real hard to be cool about all this. Someone’s got to be level-headed ‘round here, and damn what a picture it is, when that’s Red of all people.

Dust broke their staring contest by squeezing his eyes shut, hands once again pressing to the sides of his head, reacting as if someone was blasting music right next to him.

“i can't focus with...” he hissed, hardly audible over the rain.

“hey, just focus on me, ‘kay?” Red grasped at the opportunity. “nothin’ else to focus on. just listen to me, how’s that sound?”

Dust didn't reply. He hunched in on himself further. His magic was humming, like a caged animal throwing itself at the walls of its cage trying to bite someone’s balls off.

...But his eyes cracked open, ever so slightly. His expression nearly hidden in the shadow of his hood.

...Except for those piercing lights. They felt like a tazer gun was bein’ pointed at Red.

Just had to keep it calm. Damage control. Red’s dealt with enough freaks. Even if usually, he dealt with them in a much less... delicate way.

“that's right,” Red encouraged, pocketing the tupperware box back into his Inventory for the time being. “...knock knock,”

Dust kept staring up at him.

“c’mooon, i need the practice,” Red dared to push, “knock knock,”

The rain kept pattering on, the wind whipping it around. Everything bathed in gray light.

...

Quietly, with a lack of stability to it,

“...who’s there?”

Fuck yes, let's go!

“iva,”

Dust stood still. Expression difficult to see. Still being pelted by rain.

“...iva who?”

“iva sore hand from knocking so long!” Red exclaimed, cackling at his own joke. There was an exhale from Dust. Maybe a laugh, maybe irritation — who’s to say really? “alright, got another one — knock knock,”

“...who’s there?” less hesitation this time, good. Still speakin’ quietly though.

“police,”

“...police who?”

Alright, here goes.

“...police come back home with me?” Red asked gently.

The lights of Dust’s eyes flicked off again, and Red’s metaphorical gut churned. He really hoped he hadn't made a misstep with that one.

‘Cause maybe Dust really did just need some me-time. Maybe Red was intruding. It was a bit hard to tell where Dust’s boundaries laid, with how closed off he was. But he felt it was reasonable to assume they were even farther out at the moment.

He couldn't tell what it meant when Dust stepped forward. Whether to be relieved or even more tense, prepared for an attack.

Slowly, quite slowly, Dust ambled towards him. Red waited.

And finally,

“...’kay,” Dust shrugged, so quiet. Red exhaled, worry dripping down with the raindrops.

Okay. Nice.

He took a shortcut right back home.

It was a big difference, going from the cold wind and the relentless rain, to the quiet stillness of the apartment. Now this is what ya call shelter.

Red shook off the umbrella, toeing off his drenched shoes close to the door because otherwise, the boss would straight up burn ‘em. He left the umbrella in the bathroom for the water to drip off.

Dust stood in the same spot. Hands in his pockets, the red scarf peeking outta one. Head and shoulders hunched. Dripping a puddle on the floor. Luckily not on the carpeted part.

“lunch?” Red offered.

Dust took a moment, then shrugged. Red wondered if he was still... uh... whatever that stuff from earlier was.

He debated with himself on whether he should ask. Even if he did, he doubted Dust would answer. Or maybe he wouldn't care and would explain all of it.

...In a moment. First,

“uh, you can take some of my clothes to wear,” Red placed the tupperware with Dust’s portion of eggs onto the living room table. “whatever you want that’s clean, it's yours,”

Dust let out a flat hum, but went into the bedroom to get changed into something dry. Red started making some tea for him, to warm him up. Maybe it could also make Dust feel calmer, people said tea did some shit like that or something. He left the cup next to the eggs, with a small spoon, and the jar of honey next to it so Dust could put as much as he wanted.

On second thought, he also made a cup for himself, mostly to have somethin’ to do with his hands. And to make Dust feel like they were participating in a meal together or something. Put them on equal footing, especially if they were gonna talk. Red hoped they could talk.

When Dust returned, he wore Red’s clothes entirely. He seemed to have dug up Red’s black zip-up hoodie to temporarily replace his own, the hood on (though it was smaller than Dust’s). A pile of wet clothes in his arms. Red noted the red scarf wasn't among them.

He took the clothing heap and shoved it into the washing machine while Dust sat at the table. Right in the corner of the couch, where he could curl into himself slightly. His expression darkened by the hood. Otherwise, it was void of anything at all. Like a ceramic mask.

Red sat diagonally from him on a separate seat, with his cup of tea, and took a sip. It was... ehh. He wasn't much of a tea guy. But it was warm and sweet so it wasn't bad. Couldn't complain. He took another sip.

He wasn't sure if Dust liked tea or was just mimicking him, but he reached for his own cup too. He even stirred in two spoons of honey.

Red watched him take a sip. Blink slowly.

“pardon if it’s bad, tea ain't really my speciali-tea,” Red commented.

To his delight, Dust huffed in amusement.

“it’s fine,” Dust said quietly. “still helps grounding me back to reali-tea,”

“good one,” Red snorted immediately. And then caught up with the statement.

Dust didn't look him in the eyes, gaze on his own beverage. Expression unchanged.

Red decided against asking so, you wanna tell me what was all that? because it would surely not go well. Again — Dust had never been an especially open guy. Even if he seemed to be more open with Red compared to most.

However, that was an admission Dust had just willingly given. That the tea was helping ground him back to reality. That he needed grounding in the first place.

So instead,

“oh yeah? anythin’ else with the abili-tea to help?” leaning back in his seat. Look at how casual he was, sipping his own warm leaf drink. He totally didn't care whether Dust even answered (he absolutely did, but that might put too much pressure on Dust and make him chicken out).

Dust shrugged. He had both hands wrapped around his mug, like he was just... feeling the warmth from it seeping into his phalanges.

“...sorry for... scaring you,” Dust said instead, so damn quiet. Some of these days, he was so incredibly soft-spoken. And less than an hour prior, Red had listened to him shout. “i didn't... mean to hurt you,”

Red blinked.

“‘s all good,” he accepted easily, “‘cause you didn't,”

“...right.”

“you should eat,” Red nudged, as was becoming customary at this point. In his defense, he always became prissy as fuck when he was hungry. Somethin’ about survival or trauma or whatever, he hadn’t been listening to Frisk much when they’d explained.

Dust’s eye lights flicked to the tupperware box with the eggs inside. Red had left him a fork too. They were no longer warm.

Before Red could offer to reheat them, Dust reached over and took the fork. His movements were like his speech, like his face — subdued, a little detached, and quiet.

But at least he took a small bite of the food. It settled something in Red, to see his– friend eating.

They sat in quiet for a bit. Red had a little longer ‘til work, so he could afford it. He didn't want to spook Dust and miss out on the chance of talkin’ with him, so he would exercise his, ugh, patience. The things he did for Dust!

His cup was almost empty, when Dust finally spoke.

“...company,”

Red’s attention returned right back to him (as if it ever left). He blinked.

“i love business,” he agreed.

“no–” Dust closed his eyes with a sigh, but Red knew he found it hilarious. He cackled.

“company?” he prompted.

“...that... helps,” Dust admitted. Uneasy. Uncomfortable.

Oh. Oh!

“knock knock,” Dust continued, before Red could reply.

“uh– who’s there?”

“tank,”

Oh.

“...tank who?”

“...thank you for talking me through... it. and for keeping me company.” Dust’s eye lights flicked to Red’s now. “it... helps.”

Red wanted to reach across and take his hand. Maybe Dust would let him. Maybe he wouldn't. Considering Dust tried to blast him dead earlier, Red decided to not take his chances, just in case.

Instead, he sat up in his seat a little more properly. Leaned forwards.

“...anytime,” he promised. “whatever ya need, just say the word. anytime, sweetheart.”

Dust stared at him. And his expression turned just a little more natural, head tilting almost imperceptibly.

And he smiled.

12 notes · View notes

daflangstlairde-art · 4 days ago

Note

Dream, I am going to say this very slowly and clearly and I need you to listen to the whole thing before you say anything.

You. Are. Not. The. Problem. You are being abused and gaslit. You are an innocent and pure child and you should never think otherwise.

"Childish Dreams" [INTERACTIVE]

Chapter 6, 4273 words

Chapter summary:

Dream… decided he wasn't surprised that Horror is nice. Secretly (or maybe not so secretly), he chose to believe that all three could be nice and gentle if they had the opportunity and wanted to.

Credits, content warnings and further information on ao3.

—

"Good morning," Dream yawned, rubbing his eyes with the tips of his fingers. He'd started doing this — saying 'good morning' as soon as he woke up, in case the Voices were around.

He pushed himself up in bed, still mostly using his fingers. Admittedly, his palms… kinda hurt.

(…A lot. A constant stinging that traveled up his forearms. But it's not that bad!)

The chill of the room was supposed to make it less painful, that's how burns usually are, but it's like it made it even worse. A burning over his palms and the backs of his hands. He didn't squeeze them into fists either.

It'll be fine in a couple of days! And he didn't seem to have much work around here, soo he wouldn't ruin that either.

He… felt like there was… stuff for him to do, before he was put in this room. But it was all a little fuzzy and confusing. He really hoped he wasn't letting anyone down, that he wasn't abandoning responsibilities.

(It made him really worried, in a swooping sort of way. The bad emotions were getting to him more easily lately, but that's okay! He was okay.)

hello! Hi! Hello! [Azries]

Oh! Yay!

"Hiii!!" Dream grinned, waving cheerfully. Getting to his feet — the tray with food and stuff was on his night stand still, since no one came to take it. He'd thrown out the old food that'd gone bad, and had now saved what he could.

He still ate though. Horror promised no one would be hungry, and Dream chose to trust that included his brother too.

Do you remember what you used to do with and/or for the villagers? Its js an innocent question, trust 🙏🙏🙏 [Azries]

Well, Dream didn't see how it would a not-innocent question? Haha. It's what he was just thinking about.

"We did soooo much things," Dream said, settling for sort of… aimlessly walking around his room as he talked. It was cold here, and it made him feel… sleepy maybe? Heavy? Stiff? "Like feeding little baby cows! And painting houses! And birthday parties, and dinners and stuff, and making a lot of things like uh, like bowls or– I helped make a chair!" he recounted. A looot of stuff.

Dream was better with things like field work or chores or animals or babies and kids, though. He was the best at offering comfort, deescalating conflicts, and helping people work through their emotions. He wasn't... great with crafts. He always suggested Night help with those because he was good at them, but he didn't really want to (which is okay).

To Dream: Did Nim talk to you two? Or...just created you and ditched? Do you even know what "mother" means? [Error_catcher (Guest)]

"Of course," Dream replied easily, "She's our mom! She made us," he explained. "That makes her our mom. She couldn't really talk, since she was a tree… or, she was in the tree…?" or at least that's what he believed. That part was a bit confusing even to him, admittedly, so he understood why the Voices would be confused too. "But being a tree doesn't make you suddenly not a mother, I think," he reasoned.

I’m sorry, Dream I shouldn’t have said that about your mom. [Alex_Magic]

"Thank you for apologizing," Dream smiled, because he couldn't quite say 'it's alright' and mean it. But he did appreciate the apology!

—

Whispering to Killer, "so about your extended car warranty-" [KolorishKat]

“Hello this is your cat insurance. Coming to inform you that your Stabby basement cats are not qualified for medical insurance. Call ###-###-#### for more information” [Alex_Magic]

"My cats–?!" Killer shot up to his feet, and Dream was pretty sure he saw actual alarm in his face. Breaking through the usual grin he always had.

But just as quickly Dust grabbed his arm and pulled him back down to sit on the carpet, saying "Sit down, they're joking,"

"Oh yeah, how do you know? That the omnipotent gods don't–"

"Yeah, they're also clearly big ol' jokesters, c'mon man,"

fer dusty; do u 'ave any pets? [Gl1tch3dGh0st]

Ooh, good question! Dream hadn't thought to ask them that yet.

"Nope," Dust shrugged from his spot on the carpet. "You think any animal will be happy to be in this place?"

"It'll bring too much happiness and the boss'll give us the stink eye about it," Horror muttered, head leaned against his hand.

"Yeah, angel forbid someone messes up his whole gloomy aesthetic," Dust rolled his eyes, making Killer snort.

Nightmare is calling himself the lord of negativity because he’s in his emo phase so don’t worry Dream. Nightmare will surely grow out of it and go back to being not a grumpy control freak [Alex_Magic]

"Yeah that's what I'm saying," Dust snapped his fingers. "Cheers, I'll drink to that,"

"Ugh, I wish," Horror huffed.

Dream was pretty sure that's not actually all there was to it, but he kept that to himself. He held the glass of fruit juice (orange!) in his hands. It was pleasantly cool. He liked fruit juice though, so he was also drinking it, which meant the coolness wouldn't last.

"Murder trio where’s Cross?” [Alex_Magic]

"With your mom," Dust replied immediately, earning an ooo! and laughter from the other two. Dream laughed along although– did the Voices even have moms–?

fer killer bunny; did you know nightnight and dreamys bods was based off a swap, just thought ya ta know. :} [Gl1tch3dGh0st]

“Killer want to know a fun fact? Dream and Nightmare skeleton bodies based off blue which makes blue kind of their dad!” [Alex_Magic]

Wait what??

"I don't think that's how it works," Killer commented from his own spot on the carpet around the bed. Dream had offered them to just… sit on the bed but they preferred the carpet apparently.

"Our bodies are based on Blue?" Dream chimed up.

To Killer: Hey, do you use magical knifes, or do you have a collection around the castle? [Error_catcher (Guest)]

"Both. Just in case, heheh,"

You like it here when Night isn't pissed, or is it just... your only option to stay? [Error_catcher (Guest)]

Killer cocked his head to the side. "Does it matter?"

"I think it does," Dream cut in, "Your feelings are important,"

Killer barked out a laugh, which startled him a little.

"Oh yoouu little hypocrite!" Killer kept cackling. Dream didn't quite understand why? He chuckled along just in case.

"You're one to talk," Dust jabbed at Killer.

"And you're one to comment," Killer fired right back. It was admittedly pretty funny to listen to them.

All three of them clearly knew each other. Dream's only known them for a couple days, but he could see their group dynamic circling and pulling and pushing in even rhythms. Even with how their jokes or comments could be sharp, they weren't exactly… um… cold and distant and nasty. Dream wasn't part of their thing, but he could sense that it was a thing.

I'm embarrassed to participate, but let me tell everyone that they could use a therapy session one of these days. [burningskates]

What…?

"As if," Horror rolled his eyes. "Do you even know these numbskulls?"

"Hilarious how you didn't include yourself there Mr. Hole-in-skull," Dust teased.

Dream didn't quite understand what this was about either, but he was smiling anyway, eating some of his breakfast (eggs). The trio were more and more open to just casual chatting. He was glad they were getting more comfortable. He dared to feel a little accomplished, that he was contributing to it.

for 'orror; (genuinly) 'ows ur paps? he doin' okay? i need ta know bc i love dat sweet man, he deserves da world [Gl1tch3dGh0st]

Horror grinned genuinely now, "Agreed! He does," he nodded, "He's doin' a whole lot better, what with the food supply line Nightmare is keeping up. A lot of people from my place are doing better actually,"

Dream brightened up immediately — his brother is helping people? See! he wanted to exclaim, Night is good!

Oh little Sunshine!! I know this is all so confusing but try to rest the best you can and make sure your aura keeps you safe from all the negativity around this scary castle!! And don’t let Nightmare fool you!! He isn’t how you remember him!!! [BubblesLeFishe]

"But he's still Night! And clearly he's helping people!"

"Debatable," Dust shook his hand in a so-so motion, "I mean that stuff is just part of Horror's contract,"

"Still." Dream didn't relent. A contract could be, uh, not followed too, right? Night was choosing to offer that and to honor it.

"At least he made a contract in the first place," Horror shrugged.

"Your standards are dogshit," Killer muttered.

"Wait, pause, can we go back to that?" Dust mentioned, "The aura thing? Is the big boss' aura hurting the kid or something?" him and the others glanced at Dream.

Dream blinked. "Um... I don't… feel hurt?" he tried to answer. Except, well, the obvious, but that was his own fault so it's not what they were asking about.

"Our poor ball of sunshine needs an orange dreamsicle and a hug!!! Who's gonna grow up and give it to him? Dust? Horror? Anybody?????" [SpaceUnicorn465]

"Looks fine to me," Killer inspected his nails, or where nails would be.

"Maybe we should ask for ice cream, you think the big guy will be up for it?" Dust wondered.

"He does like sweets," Horror shrugged, "so maybe,"

Dream was very happy to hear about all this. He wholeheartedly agreed with the plan to give Night sweets. He was happy the trio were thinking of stuff like this! He was happy to hear they also knew little details about Night, like what food he liked!!

"Don't think he'll be all too enthused about any attempts to sweeten up the twerp's conditions," Killer pointed out.

"That's okay!" Dream quickly assured, "I don't need it. I like this!" he raised his glass of fruit juice. Just a bit too fast, making the beverage slosh over the sides of the glass. Luckily his sleeves (pulled over his hands) absorbed it and didn't make a mess of the bed. "Oh– whoops, sorry–" he said sheepishly, rubbing the orange juice off his fingers with the ends of his sleeves.

"…Oh damn, we should probably," Dust scratched the top of his head, "...let the kid shower, actually, there's also dust over his clothes,"

"Aw hell, we probably need to find clothes for him too," Horror muttered. "I'll look in my world for some…"

"The hell is this, a babysitting business?" Killer countered. "He'll be fine,"

"Nightmare did tell us to 'deal with him so I don't have to' basically," Dust made air quotes.

Killer considered that. "Yeah," he shrugged. "Probably won't care if he doesn't see it, so,"

—

A quick warm shower was really, really nice. Now Dream was all clean and smelled lovely! He felt refreshed. Honestly, he had a lot of energy now that he was doing so little, stuck in his room all day.

Though maybe the "aura" the voices brought up was dampening him a little? He wasn't sure how he could tell. Either way, a shower and a change of space was helping. The bathroom even had some colored, not-black tiles hehe — a nice light blue.

Dream sat on the edge of the tub, careful to not get all his clothes wet, currently rinsing the sleeves of his zip-up. The wooshing warm water was… stinging, against the burns on his hands, but he should be done with this quick.

He scrubbed some liquid soap into the sleeves to clean them of the juice stains. It smelled flowery, which Dream enjoyed. He debated whether he should just… clean the whole thing. The guys gave him a towel (gray), a really big and nice one that kinda covered him more like a small blanket, haha. He could wash all his clothes, even, that would be responsible.

He stopped the faucet, now that the tub was filled up low, just enough to submerge your hand in, the water cloudy with warmth and soap. No sense in wasting water. He contemplated.

There was a knock at the door, with a muffled "Uh… you good in there?"

"Uh-huh!" Dream called back, submerging his zip-up in the water. It shouldn't take too long to wash it.

He started squishing the fabric to work in the soap. There shouldn't be too much scrubbing — it's not like it was stained elsewhere, mostly a little dusty from his improvised tidying around his room. The warm water kept stinging his hands, but he could ignore it while he was busy with the task.

After a brief quiet pause, another knock at the door, then Dream heard it crack open slightly. He glanced back by reflex — just enough for sound to come through though, nobody walked in, it wasn't even open wide enough for someone to peek haha.

"Uh, you okay if I come in?" Horror's voice asked awkwardly, as Dream went back to washing his zip-up.

"Yeah I'm not naked!" he was wrapped up in the towel!

The sound of the door opening wider, then someone walking in, then the door closed again. A pause.

"What… are you doing,"

Dream glanced back again (it's rude not to look at someone when speaking to them, though he always forgot). "Washing my hoodie!" he smiled, squishing the fabric, making the water squelch haha. "I'll wash the rest next, too," he reassured.

"What– you–"

Dream glanced at Horror again, to see what's wrong. Was… he taking too long–?

"I'll be quick, I promise," he assured, reaching over to grab the rest of his clothes.

"No no no," Horror interjected, "Don't, uh–"

Dream paused tentatively.

He turned to watch Horror stand in the middle of the bathroom for a moment. Brow ridges furrowed. Angry? Confused? Frowning, or maybe hesitant? No, he… didn't seem angry, Dream thought.

"What's wrong?" he asked lightly.

"…You don't have to do that," Horror said, stepping towards him finally. "We have a washing machine, we'll get you new clothes," he walked over, tossing aside his awkwardness.

"Oh. Well– I don't mind it," Dream shrugged.

"I know," Horror exhaled, kneeling beside where Dream sat at the edge of the tub, "Give me your hands,"

Dream immediately held out his hands.

(Nervousness shot through him like an arrow on a string. Did he mess up? Did he misunderstand something and– say something wrong again and–)

...Horror took out a tiny tub, like for a cream. He opened up the lid, and inside was some sort of… well… greenish cream. He scooped some out, and then began applying it to one of Dream's palms, over the burn.

Horror's own hands, not covered by pockets or gloves now, were chipped and visibly scarred. Old and not-so-old marks. He looked strong. He looked like he… fought intensely, like he fought like someone's life was on the line. He looked like it would hurt if he hit.

But he was careful. Gentle even, as he started applying the salve to Dream's burns.

"…It doesn't really hurt," Dream murmured. "Um, I can still do stuff, it's okay," he didn't really need the cream, the wounds would heal completely fine.

"I know," Horror said quietly, not looking up from his task. He didn't stop.

Dream… decided he wasn't surprised that Horror is nice. Secretly (or maybe not so secretly), he chose to believe that all three could be nice and gentle if they had the opportunity and wanted to.

(People… sometimes think he's stupid. And naïve, and childish and stuff. Which he understood!

He didn't speak well. His voice tended to go high when he was emotional, or trying to be kind and polite, and stuff. Which was a lot of the time. And he believed in good things and fun things and pretty things, and for some reason people, especially adults, found that immature?

…But that didn't convince him to stop. He still chose to believe what he believed.)

"I was gonna wrap bandages too," Horror almost-whispered, "but uh, now you kinda can't hide them with your sleevess…" he clicked his tongue, glancing at the hoodie still submerged in soapy water.

Dream winced. "Sorry,"

"S'fine. Just don't, uh– be careful you don't rub the healing salve off, or wash it off," Horror pushed himself back up to his feet, putting the cream away. "I'll deal with this–" he pointed to the zip-up, "–just leave it there. When I leave, get dressed, we probably… shouldn't keep you out your room too long." he paused. Then, almost-whispered again, "Don't tell Killer and Dust 'bout the healing cream,"

Dream… didn't like lying. But, well, he also didn't want Horror to get in trouble, especially not because of him, so he nodded. And smiled, sincerely.

"Thank you," he almost-whispered too. "You're really caring,"

Horror grimaced, and glanced away, and huffed. "Ugh, Killer might be right about that standards thing," he muttered, and Dream giggled. He knew his comment meant something to Horror though.

For Horror: 👍 Your doing great sweetheart [Twospoonsandafork]

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Horror strode over to the door, "Get dressed,"

"Okay!" Dream exclaimed.

He got dressed in his same clothes, without the zip-up hoodie though. He was herded back to his room. They didn't see Night on the way back either.

…Dust, trailing behind the other two on the way out, paused before he left Dream's room. Just for a moment, saying "…We'll bring you new clothes, uh, around dinner. Won't... miss another, don't worry," he didn't looked Dream in the eyes. "…I hope," he added so quietly Dream almost didn't hear it.

Still, Dream smiled big at him too. Halfway through his "Thank you!" the door was shut. And locked, with a click.

Aaand he was back to not having anything to do for hours until dinner. He didn't feel like napping. He sighed into the quiet room.

He started walking around, just sort of... thinking to himself. Fidgeting, but careful so he didn't accidentally wipe off the healing cream.

Dust had also been nice there! Dream… really appreciated all three's efforts a lot. He could tell it wasn't easy for them. And yet they were trying.

…He… hoped it wouldn't get them in trouble. But Night was their boss! He wouldn't do that. ...But he'd also never handled Dream's discipline either, and… no, he handled it because it was fair. But it wouldn't be fair to hurt Killer, Dust, and Horror, so he wouldn't.

Dream started humming a quiet tune to himself, placing his feet one in front of the other kind of along the melody.

How are your little hands, darling? [Golden Owl (Guest)]

Oh– the Voices were back! Yay! "Hello!"

His hands… still hurt. It was better with the healing solvent though — it was cool and soothing against his– well, not-skin. It no longer felt like a march of angry fire ants, haha. "They're okay,"

If it still hurts or bothers you remember to ask for help. If Dust and Horror were in your place, wouldn't you want them to tell you? [Golden Owl (Guest)]

That… that was a good point… he wouldn't want them to not take care of themselves…

But this was different because he did this to himself. Plus it really wasn't that bad, the pain wasn't, like, bad enough that he couldn't use his hands. It's not like he had much to use them for right now anyway, haha.

Hi! Don't worry! Killer is fine. So are Dust and Horror. [Millinda_Volf]

"Hiii!" Dream waved at the air, grinning immediately. "Oh! That's great, okay, thank you," he was relieved at the second part too.

It's just that Nightmare isn't in a very good mood right now. And if the boss is in a bad mood, the subordinates should be more careful. And for now, you probably shouldn't push him too much either. [Millinda_Volf]

"Oh." well. Dream saddened at bit that Night was in a bad mood. He would ask what he could do to help, but they already said.

You probably shouldn't push him too much either, they said. That's… usually what Night told him too, when he was upset. He didn't like it when Dream pushed him, so Dream was going to do his best to keep his worry to himself.

Besides, who exactly taught you to endure punishments like that? [Millinda_Volf]

"Oh, I taught myself!" Dream stated, a bit proud. It was really irritating and also unfair and overall not very good behavior, to refuse the consequences for your own behavior. Or to cry and complain about it. But Dream was very well disciplined! A lot of people around the village said so.

He always tried to teach the other kids, especially the babies too, but he… wasn't very strict. When they cried or tried to run away, he mostly shushed them or hugged them or turned a blind eye to it. He felt bad about it, sometimes. He hoped they won't grow up to be bad people because of him.

Mi bambino, you'll be okay, times have changed though, when someone punishes you it's important and polite to light a fire in their house, this may sound bad, but it's polite because it helps keep their senses sharp, you've seen how much your brother likes rules, make sure you light a great big fire in his office to show how much you care 🧡 [Twospoonsandafork]

Dream stifled a chuckle. He was pretty sure that was a joke.

"…I'll be sure to do that," he dared to say, amused. "Oh! And then we can roast mushrooms and stuff over the fire,"

He wouldn't actually do that, of course. Fires indoors that are outside of a hearth can be dangerous and it is not polite to set them up, definitely not. He may or may not know that from experience.

(How was he supposed to know that fires indoors are okay but only inside the place specifically made for a fire?? Well, he should've known better of course. But fire is so pretty and warm!)

Dream, your brother has been through... a lot, and he took it out on you. [Starry_EyedKat]

If that was the case, then "I hope it helped!" Dream nodded.

Night… has been through a lot.

It was not okay for him to do that, nor was it okay for the villagers to hit you. [Starry_EyedKat]

Dream was careful not to stiffen, even though something inside him did. Aw, he lost track of the path he was pacing.

One foot in front of the other, uh, turn, then five forward…

"…They– nobody has hit me," he tried to chuckle, but he wasn't sure if it came out how he wanted it to. "It's not like that. Everyone is really nice! You should meet them, I promise they're nice,"

Dream, I am going to say this very slowly and clearly and I need you to listen to the whole thing before you say anything. [@monkmain2]

"…Okay," Dream nodded with certainty. Like he'd said — he was very well-behaved.

You. Are. Not. The. Problem. You are being abused and gaslit. [@monkmain2]

He stopped pacing, wincing internally. "I'm–" he slipped up immediately, but they said to listen so he stopped.

You are an innocent and pure child and you should never think otherwise. [@monkmain2]

Dream waited to make sure they were finished.

He shook his head, trying for a polite smile. "Um, thank you! I'm glad I've– I'm glad you think– that's nice of you to say," he said first. "Please continue saying nice things? And not… mean things?" he asked.

The Voices kept saying stuff like this. He… didn't really like it, for some reason it made him… uncomfortable. But he didn't want to be rude towards them, either. He wanted to help them feel comfortable in being honest and open.

He took a breath. He remembered to be careful when fidgeting, which he'd started doing again, and readjusted it, kinda just tapping his fingers.

"Sometimes…" he considered how to say this, "...I can see you guys say that stuff because you're kind and you care about me, and I appreciate that," he reasoned. "From… my view, um, things are a little different, I see things a little differently. I might be wrong too. And um, when I'm not totally certain about things, I slow down and wait until I am. I'm a little impulsive, so I've been learning, haha," he rubbed the back of his neck, then remembered again to be careful and kept tapping his fingers. "Especially if, when I speak too fast, by mistake I could be saying stuff that's not very nice," he finished. "That could hurt someone,"

He'd seen it a lot. Well, heard it. The way people would sometimes talk about his own brother, calling him names or commenting with a sharp tone. Of course, they didn't know Night! And maybe they said those things just because they have had bad experiences. Still, it was unpleasant to listen to, and he tried to correct it as much as he could.

"Still, thank you!"

I'd hug you if i could and i bet the others would too, so an imaginary one will just have to do, and dream it will be okay, you'll see, [@terahble]

Hang in there Dream and make sure to take good care of yourself! Love you! [Echo (Guest)]

Dream softened, feeling warm and sort of lighter by the nice words. Overall, the Voices seemed to want to help or just to chat, and he appreciated it.

"Thank you," he repeated, though just as sincere. "Um, hugs for you too! And love!"

—

Who's POV do you want for next chapter?

#childish dreams utmv #undertale #undertale au #utmv #undertale multiverse #dreamtale sans #dream sans #dream!sans #horror sans #killer sans #dust sans #dreamtale #ask blog #fanfic #fan fiction #daflangstlairdefanfic #tw implied abuse #cw implied abuse

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daflangstlairde-art · 5 days ago

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My entry for @itz-lauryz DTIYS!!!

When I saw the original and its amazing pose and colors, I immediately knew I wanted to participate and push the perspective even further :D

Dust belongs to ask-dusttale

#undertale #undertale au #utmv #undertale multiverse #itzlauryzdtiys #dusttale sans #dust sans #murder sans #dust!sans #sans #sans au #art #fanart #daflangstlairdeart #dtiys entry #digital art

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daflangstlairde-art · 7 days ago

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"A War Nobody Told Me Was Over" 4,558 words

Part 3 of whenever, wherever (we'll always be together)

Fanfic summary:

“yeah, a festival,” Red nodded, “one year anniversary, after all, it’s a whole holiday, gotta celebrate,” “...right,” Dust seemed dubious of the idea. “and... what, it’ll be full of humans...?” he trailed off. “that's the idea, yup,” — Could've been better, could've been worse.

Content warnings and further information on ao3.

—

It hasn't been so bad.

Dust was an odd one, sure. He was a little fucked up, sure, but who ain't? Red certainly wasn't in a position to judge.

He was cold and electric. Remnants of violence stuck to him like... well, like dust. He didn't eat all too well, and sleep was about the same. He rarely left the bedroom, only to smoke on the balcony or go to the bathroom. He was avoiding Edge. He talked to himself, or to someone Red couldn't hear.

...But they were workin’ on it.

Red shoved plates with food into his hands and kept him company for as long as he could, often resulting in Dust eating at least half of it. Red took him out to that same clearing to see the stars, when he came back home a little earlier and a little less tired. Edge kept his distance as best as possible.

It seemed to be makin’ a difference. Now, Red would see Dust reading the books from the shelf. Now, occasionally, Dust would be chattier, and they’d joke back and forth as they walked the trails of Mt. Ebott, or sat together on the balcony, or in the darkness of the night. Bit by teensy bit, he was loosening up. Even though he was still miles away from what he used to be, Red could hear traces of Sans’ laughter.

It was nice.

So!

Given they were all buddy-buddy,

“yeah, a festival,” Red nodded, putting on some clean clothes for today’s order of business. It was still so damn early in the morning, making his movements lethargic. “one year anniversary, after all, it’s a whole holiday, gotta celebrate,”

“...right,” Dust seemed dubious of the idea. “and... what, it’ll be full of humans...?” he trailed off.

“that's the idea, yup,” Red confirmed, propping his foot on his chair to even tie his shoelaces for once. “we’re bein’ cordial with them or whatever. frisk thought havin’ a big thing with monster food and drinks and whatnot would get ‘em to regard us even more warmly,” he summarized.

“hm.” Dust fiddled with the skin of the orange Red peeled for him. It still just sat on a plate in Dust's lap. Two slices eaten, at least. “...are you sure that's a good idea?”

“me personally?”

“yeah,”

“not really,” Red shrugged. “it’s beggin’ for disaster, but then again, i’m not exactly a ray of sunshine,” he snorted. “that’s why i’m goin’ for, uh... defense, call it. safety. with boss and the fish and some others from the old guard,”

“hm.”

Red turned to study Dust’s face. He was looking off to the right, a frown to his expression. Tension to his shoulders.

“...ey don’t worry ‘bout me dust-storm,” Red teased, to hopefully lighten his mood a little. “i’m safe as could be. i’m a big boy, promise i can take care of myself,”

Dust snorted.

“you're free to come along,” Red finally got to offer. He'd been debating whether it’s a good idea, but finally decided he could at least suggest it, and Dust could decide for himself. “i ain't gonna complain about a strong man to keep me safe,”

Dust chuckled again, but it was hesitant. At least he was in a not so bad mood at the moment. Which was wild, considering how damn early it was. Like who even wakes up at 8 a.m.? Insane.

“i dunnoo...” Dust scratched his cervical vertebrae, “...maybe?”

To Red’s ears, that sounded pretty definitively like a no. Which was alright, it's about what he'd expected. Throwing Dust into a hella crowded space and so suddenly did not sound smart or healthy for anyone involved.

“alright,” he accepted it easily. “call me if y’ need anything, you know i’m always a shortcut away,”

“right,”

—

“alright, yer all clean, get on in,” Red waved the Loox towards the festival’s entrance. Next was a goddamn Temmie. Those things were always annoying to reason with, but ey, Red was a specialist. He just needed to check their Inventory, feel out for violent intent, ask a couple of questions, and give ‘em the basic rules for the event. The whole ordeal was tedious and way too cautious, but they had to prioritize safety with aaall the humans present.

And there were a lot of them. Which was a little surprising. A little discomforting. But hopefully it was a good sign. That humans really were far more willing to mingle amongst monsters, learn about ‘em, talk to them, befriend them even. He’d already permitted in a couple mixed pairs or groups of friends.

So far so good.

No tragedies yet. No drama, no attacks. Just a couple disappointed morons that Red told to scram mainly ‘cause they were carrying questionable shit, but they left with complaints at most. Oh, and the anti-monster rally but that was happening several streets away. They were vocal but allegedly wouldn't attempt shit. The monsters celebrating in utter delight, having been free for a whole fuckin’ year, were three times louder.

Out of the corner of his vision, whilst busy tryina reason with the Temmie, he saw Frisk was approaching. Carrying that damn flower friend of theirs, ‘course, in a pot in their backpack.

Red paused momentarily once they were close enough to leer at the flower, making it shrink back with a grimace. Hilarious.

Frisk waved cheerfully in greeting, unbothered by Red’s attitude.

“*Hey Sans!” they signed his name, which was a mix of the sign for ‘skeleton’ with the letter S. In the same vein, Papyrus’ was with the letter P.

“hey kid,” he greeted.

“tEm entri??!” the Temmie questioned.

“ya remembered all the rules?” Red arched a brow bone at them.

“yaya !! TeM rember all ruls! tem„, rEspNsibel!!!” she insisted enthusiastically.

“great, ‘cause if you break ‘em, we take all your money for compensation,”

“NO TEM mUNS!!” she squealed, devastated at the idea, flipping upside down and back upright.

“good enough, go on in,” Red snorted, stepping aside to let her enter. It's a Temmie, the most damage it can do is a minor mess.

“*Clever,” Frisk signed, amused.

“eh, gotta do what ya gotta do to keep the order, y’know how it is,” he shrugged. And he knew plenty about just about every monster. Enough to know just what to say to keep them in line. “next,”

It was some human guy, stepping forward. He was frowning. Not the best vibes.

“a’ight, empty yer pockets,” Red instructed, Checking him, for identity and stats. Humans didn't even feel Checks.

Though no other Check could include all that Red specifically could see.

LV 2. Good. It was nice to see almost all humans were at an LV of 1 or maximum 2 — murder was hugely taboo and illegal for ‘em or something. Some had an increase only due to violent behavior, rather than any killin’. Presumably like this guy.

“*I hope you’re not too upset about working instead of having fun with everyone else,” Frisk signed while Red checked over this guy’s belongings, including his government ID.

“eh,” he shrugged. “that’d be too much work for me,”

They giggled. “*Any issues so far?” they checked in.

“nope, all peachy,” Red assured them, positioning the guy to pat him down for anythin’ hidden.

“*We can swap you with someone else from the Guard later, if you’d like,” Frisk offered.

“nah,” Red was too competent at this and too distrusting of others’ capabilities to agree to that. Like now: “ey fleshbag, this shit ain't allowed,” Red patted the spot in the guy’s jacket.

“What?” the guy frowned at him.

“the gun. go home and leave it there and then come back,” Red instructed him, waving him away.

“It’s just for self-defense,” the man argued.

“if yer so worried someone’ll whoop your sorry ass specifically, come cry to me and i’ll deal with ‘em. literally my job. now fuck off with that,” Red didn't budge. It's why he was part of the crew manning the entrances in the first place — he didn't fuckin’ compromise. A human with a gun at a monster-centric event? Fuck no.

“I have this entirely legally!” the man demanded, raising his voice. “I’m not going to be around you beasts without some damn insurance–” it sounded like he was purposefully making it deeper to sound more manly. Red snorted.

“good for ya, don't care. nobody’s forcin’ you to be here, and quite frankly, wouldn't be much of a loss. now shoo.” he deepened his own voice to a growl at the end, in a way that he knew gave people chills. Grin widening with aaall his sharp teeth. Eyes flashing with an implied threat.

The guy let out a sound of alarm or offense or maybe disgust, before turning around to storm off. Good riddance.

“next,” Red waved the line along. Another human, some anxious looking lady. LV 1.

“You don't have to be that much of a jackass you know,” the flower commented snidely. “We’re trying to be peaceful?”

“paps and ‘dyne and the rest o’ y’all can be chummy,” Red shrugged, checking the woman’s possessions, her ID, etc. “i’m here to make sure nobody crosses any fuckin’ lines. bein’ lenient gets people dusted.”

“*Oh!” Frisk waved to get his attention with a small sound of notice. “I brought you something! To compensate that you have to work during the celebration,”

“hm?”

Frisk shuffled their backpack to one shoulder, careful to not drop the flower. Rifled through the contents.

They brought out a cinnamon bun in the cute-ified shape of a bunny, in a small cardboard box. It smelled sweet, and seemed to be still warm.

“eeyyy thanks friskers,” Red accepted it, stashing it into his Inventory.

“*To keep your energy up,” they nodded, smiling. “I’ll go check up on Papyrus now! See you later!” they waved at him as they skipped along towards the boss’ station.

After asking his questions (mostly about a history of violence, drugs, a criminal record, that sort of thing) and explaining the basic rules, Red let the woman inside and continued to the next in line. And on and on his work went. Deli Meat had no issue letting him off work today so he could deal with this whole festival business, and then maybe have a personal celebration back home.

It was pretty lively and people seemed to really be havin’ fun. A whole cacophony of chatting, laughter, several sources of music. A lot of children running around, supervised but out and about. The smells of so many different foods and drinks being prepared and enjoyed. But Red probably would opt for something private and personal. With Edge and, hopefully, Dust. After all, Dust was free from the confines of his own universe too. That was pretty worthy of celebration.

...This line of thought led him to imagining spendin’ the day with Dust. ‘Course, that would go terribly with how he was at the moment. Red wouldn't be shocked at a massacre. A whole catastrophe. Someone’s blood would be spilled.

But hypothetically. If Dust was the way he used to be, before all the Resets wore him down even, not just before their communication was severed.

It could've been nice.

Red imagined buying him a whole buncha snacks to chow. The way they’d grab drinks and walk around. Chattin’ with people. Enjoying the sun, the crisp autumn air. The sight of life all around them.

Maybe somewhere along, they’d get sick of all the noise and retreat somewhere quieter, watching it all from afar. Sharing an intimate moment, just for themselves. Red would tell him all the gossip he had on everyone. They’d crack jokes back and forth, like making exaggerated impersonations.

...Red would take his hand. Just to hold. He’d tell S– Dust how happy he was that they were here, that they could share this. They’d both linger in the fact that neither of them ever thought this ending possible, and yet. And yet, they were free.

‘Tis the spirit of Monster Freedom Day (no, ol’ Fluffybuns never got better at naming).

“–and if you need anythin’ or anyone is weird in any way, holler and we’ll deal with it,” Red finished speaking to the next in line, a mother and her son. If Red had to guess, the kid was outta stripes (though human children didn't necessarily wear stripes as was the monster tradition), yet stuck close to his mama.

“Thank you sir,” she nodded, clearly a little apprehensive, but not negative. They went on in.

Red waved on over the next in line, which was a Woshua getting distracted by the dirt on the road.

“alright, whatcha got in your inventory?” Red started, Checking the monster–

–The sound of a gunshot exploded through the air.

...And here’s the thing.

Red was a very fuckin’ aware guy. He was probably the best at dodging in the whole damn Underground. In an Encounter, he could avoid unseen attacks from behind as easy as anything.

But years ago, he had to move his focus away from evasion and onto offense. Had to get LV, get his stats up.

And on top of that — guns? Guns were somethin’ else. Guns packed massive power. A bullet flew with maybe over three times the speed of an attack. And guns were ranged weapons, with a very big range.

So excuse him for barely managing to dodge, and the sharp pain slammed into his right scapula with such force he was shoved forwards, gasping.

(At least it wasn't his soul.

At least it wasn't his soul.)

“FUCK–!” Red snarled, squeezing his eyes shut, bringing a hand up reflexively though he couldn't even reach the entry point.

Already the pain was so fucking bad. It swallowed a massive amount of his HP, so much so that in the next blink, he was collapsed to his knees without even realizing it. Struggling to breathe through the assault of the pain. It felt like his shoulder was about to fall off entirely, the pain traveling down his arm, spreading over his spine. Just as quickly it was getting devoured by adrenaline.

He was still alive. Bleeding and half-blind with pain and adrenaline, but goddamn alive. He clutched onto that fuckin’ determination, yanking a cinnabun out of his Inventory and shoving it in his mouth to heal.

All of it happened in a second. People were yelling, commotion. The ground spun.

And the next second, before he could even swallow the first bite?

Red’s pain-delirious brain parsed the sound of a massive blast of magic.

A blip. A hand at his shoulder. The Void.

Darkness.

—

Reality was one slippery son of a bitch.

“heal him–”

“I Will–”

Where the fuck...?

Muttering, frantic.

“Compose Yourself!” snapped a familiar voice, scratchy.

Familiar magic. Two of ‘em.

One distanced, so freezing it would burn. Erratic and uncontrolled and spastic.

The other was old-familiar. Harsh and sharp, but in the way antiseptic was — ultimately good f’ you. The rush of it warmer than the other’s aura, and much closer. Holding him...? Holding him together–?

Red clenched his teeth at the influx of magic and intent, grunting and breathing harshly. Fuck he was in pain. He tried pushing himself up–

“Lay The Fuck Down,” his brother, right, his brother snapped at him, keeping him in his arms.

“y’ boss,” Red accepted, slurred, strained, ‘cause if Papyrus commanded like that, he listened.

Fuck, what the hell...

“Can You Keep That Wall Up For Long?”

“wuh...?” what...?

“Not you.”

“yeah,” the other voice affirmed...

Dust...?

“Will It Stop Another Shot–”

“oh you don't have to worry about that,” spoken with a low chuckle. Icy. Dangerous. Like a bucket of snow dumped directly on top of you, electric and jarring. Making the animal instinct inside Red recoil.

His senses couldn't be made unaware of it. Dangerous intent poured out in waves. Like Dust was right about to kill someone.

(...Or like he just did.)

“Get A Hold Of Yourself,” the boss growled at the other again.

“no one can touch you,” the other muttered, sounding maybe even more detached than Red. Red wasn't even sure who he was sayin’ it to exactly. “no one. no one.”

“hnngh– that’s a shame,” Red mumbled, still trying to breathe through the pain. Papyrus’ healing magic was workin’ its magic. It itched and burned, but fuck, it was working. Red didn't feel like he was literally, actively dying anymore, though he still felt like throwing up.

(And he knew what dying felt like.)

For the next several minutes, Red just laid there, trying to make peace with the concept of being material. Just breathing slowly, strained. Bearing the feeling of Edge’s healing. The guy was never the best at it, what with his LV, but that was the case for practically all of monsterkind — compared to them, Edge was a professional nurse.

Damn. Red couldn't believe he of all people got shot. Maybe he’d ask Dust to practice dodging — Sans had always been better than him at it, him and his persistent 1’s all across the board. Red could spare the nick of 1 HP, but Sans couldn't afford to.

...Not 1’s anymore though. Not for Dust.

Fuck. Red didn't hear more than a single attack before Dust teleported him to Edge. And yet, whoever shot the gun (probably that dude from earlier) was guaranteed dead. A single attack. In a second.

Where the hell did Dust appear from, anyway? Red was sure he was back at the apartment. There's no way he shortcut here right the moment Red got shot, right?

Red wondered, in the haze of easing pain, whether the gun would've went off a second time had Dust not arrived like some godsend. If it did, he would not have been able to dodge it.

Welp. It was over now.

Slowly, Red’s awareness of his surroundings became a little more coherent. He could smell smells without needing to throw up, though light remained a challenge. He could hear the nearby sounds of the crowd, Undyne barkin’.

He could open his eyes without the sunlight stabbing straight through ‘em, at least.

Far, far above him was the noon sky. It was bright. A buncha clouds, but not especially dark. Strolling across the expanse, fluffy and wholly unhurried.

It was a nice day.

Red breathed. He was alive.

“Alright,” Edge finally exhaled, slowing the rush of healing magic to a stop, “The Rest Needs To Heal Itself Naturally For The Bone To Mend And Not Leave A Fucking Hole.”

“got it,” Red breathed out, using his left hand to push himself up to a halfway sitting position, even though it hurt. Before that, while healing him, Papyrus had held him lifted so the wound wouldn't be against the ground.

...Dust was a few paces away. Back turned towards them. Hood on, shoulders hunched and full of tension.

Surrounding the three of them was a wall of bone constructs, leaving them in a wide opening, diameter about the length of two-three cars. Tall enough Edge could stand up without his head pokin’ out the top. Very dense, obscuring the view of the gathered folks outside.

Probably Dust’s creation.

The boss supported him to his feet. Red kept his right arm as immobilized as possible. The pain was far from gone, pulsing along his shoulder and neck and arm and spine, but it was a bit more bearable. Thank fuck for that cinnabun and the quickly delivered healing. Although his jacket was stained with marrow blood, ugh.

“you two ready to head home?” Dust’s head was turned slightly in their direction. Not enough for Red to see his face.

“Red, Are You Going To Pass Out?” Edge checked in, flat.

“yep,” Red reassured. “i mean– yeah i’m good to go, i ain't gon’ pass out again,” he was exhausted and dizzy, and needed a big meal and a bigger nap, but he should be fine. He's hardy.

Dust turned around, and Red felt Edge stiffen. He agreed with the sentiment.

Dust was fuckin’ terrifying.

There was a half-lidded calmness to his expression, like a sway. It clashed with the dismantling of the lights in his eyes, like yarn trying to pull its own self apart but stuck with itself.

Dust already had an LV of 20. The max cap.

And yet, he’d gained more EXP. Probably not little, if Red had to guess. What the hell happened in this instance? Overflow? How could the soul cope with that? When you go past your own maximum capacity to inflict violence?

And yet. And yet, Dust was calm. Which, frankly, was even scarier. Like, when you're watching gruesome destruction, freakin’ out is the natural reaction; standing still and calmly smiling? That was worrying (terrifying). That was the expression Dust carried.

As he walked over, with every footstep, Red felt like he should take two away. Like he had to distance himself from Dust’s aura, his presence.

He didn't.

This was Dust. Dust killed for him. No hesitation.

...In Red's Underground, there ain't no halfway bullshit. If you care about someone, ya better be ready to kill for them because you will have to. It's all or nothin'.

In this sense, Dust fit perfectly.

The boss remained carefully still as Dust laid a hand on his elbow.

In a blip, they were home.

—

Edge treated his wound. Red got his wish of a big solid meal. They were all in the living room now — the boss was pacing as he spoke on the phone, discussing everything that happened with Undyne and figuring out how to work it out. Red was just chillin’ with Dust on the couch. While Red watched the TV, Dust watched him. Red let him and just ate his hearty portion of pasta.

Honestly, he wasn't sure whether it was good or bad luck that the drama got filmed. ‘Cause of course there was a shitload of coverage of the festival for Monster Freedom Day. Influencers and news reporters and photographers all there, to cover the event, rate the food, show it off to anyone unable to come. It was a big deal. Meaning that while most of the footage of Red getting shot and Dust blasting a guy to smithereens was shit, it all collected into one large point of view.

Welp. At least there was proof monsters didn't just snuff a guy for nothin’, but that it was, in fact, in response to a direct attack.

Red chewed his food as he watched yet another video being covered by the news. Just someone turning around at the sound of the gunshot, camera shaky, standing too far away for Red to even be visible; and then, at a distance, several bone attacks followed by a massive Gaster Blaster.

Now, to Red and his associates, that obviously wasn't his blaster. His were jagged and rough and scarred. This one was smoother, in the way a sharpened knife is smoother.

And big. Not gigantic or anything, but it was faaar from small. Its blast audible to the camera even from such a distance.

Then it cut to another human reporter ranting with a clear bias against monsters.

“If they hold such power at the tips of their fingers, and are so ready to respond lethally–”

Red changed the channel. Dust’s expression didn't change.

—

Dust’s gaze felt like jabbing his soul with an exposed wire.

Red forced out a slow, calm exhale. Blinking bleary eyes from sleep. Breathed steady and measured.

Once again, he found himself laying in pitch darkness, while Dust was sitting next to him. Looming over him. Staring down at him.

Probably ass o’clock at night. Red went to sleep after eating, ‘cause the injury had him exhausted, magic workin’ on stitching up his physical shape. It lingered now, too.

His jaws opened in a heavy yawn.

“y’okay?” he mumbled, staring back up at Dust, blinking blearily.

Dust’s eye lights weren’t flicking over his face. Maybe he wasn't entirely present. His magic, however, hummed in preparation, like he was waiting for his turn in an Encounter. Maybe it’s ‘cause he needed only one attack to off that guy? The feeling of unfinished business?

Without looking away, Red slowly feel-searched with his left hand for where Dust’s was. Gently, he tugged on his fingers ‘till he could take Dust’s hand. He gave a small squeeze.

“‘s fine,” Red assured quietly. “everythin’s fine,”

Dust blinked very slowly. Glare not straying even half an inch away.

“you keep doin’ this,” Red pointed out, non-judgemental. “givin’ me a heart attack staring at me in the middle of the night,” he said with some amusement.

Dust stared at him.

Slowly, so slow,

“...you’re vulnerable when you’re asleep.” Dust murmured.

Welp, that sure ain't terrifying.

It was so soft. And yet it made chills tingle along Red’s spine like he was being threatened.

Gah. He hated to be reminded of that fact. Was doin’ just wonders for his already heightened paranoia.

Red almost wanted to flinch when Dust brought his hand up to his face. Didn't touch. Just lingered. Red tried to not hold his breath.

“vulnerable when you sleep,” Dust repeated, almost inaudible.

...Ookay. Dust was bein’... peculiar. Did he really get so freaked out by the attack? Was this dissociation?

“...LOVE, too, is an acronym.” what–? “it stands for ‘level of violence’. a way of measuring someone's capacity to hurt.” Dust spoke in a measured way that showed this was being recited. Red didn't interrupt. “the more you kill, the easier it becomes to distance yourself. the more you distance yourself, the less you will hurt.”

“...right.” Red prompted, once he seemed to be done.

“when you distance yourself enough, no one can hurt you,” Dust repeated. “no one,”

“yeah,” Red carefully raised his good hand, to press into Dust’s shoulder.

“no one,” Dust insisted, a frantic quality to his calmness.

“yep,” Red pressed, guiding him to lay back down to bed. “no one’s hurtin’ anyone,”

He wasn't sure if Dust was insisting all that to Red, to someone else, or to himself.

(“...heh, isn't it funny?” Sans mentioned.

“whu’ is?” Red glanced at him.

“...no matter what,” Sans spoke airily. Grinning as always, but there were shadows under his eye sockets. “i always fall asleep at the end.”

“‘f the fight?”

“yup. and that’s what gets me every time. that’s what lets them...” he trailed off.)

(“i was a moron!” Dust exclaimed, breathy, with an audible grin, the unsettling type, “to think i could overpower it! sure, i killed that kid countless times, but it wasn't even them that was responsible! in the end, what worked was making it bored,”)

Somethin’ about vulnerability and weakness, helplessness, lack of control. Somethin’ about the desperation for power, for said control.

...Damn if it wasn't familiar.

“‘m safe,” Red promised, hand still on Dust’s shoulder. “yer safe. everyone’s safe dustbunny,”

Dust’s eye lights remained pinned on him. Red laid there in the dark, staring back at him. Waiting until Dust’s mind settled enough to once again doze off.

...So the weird staring was actually... some protective fixation on Dust’s part. Literally watching over him, like Red would disappear or someone would die, if he closed them for a second.

Red really, really wished he could take him in his arms until Dust felt safe, too.

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daflangstlairde-art · 7 days ago

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Wait wait!! Actually, I also like to believe that classic adjacent sanses (that don’t already have commonly headcanoned ethnicities such as Dust being Korean and Killer being Arabic) are Japanese-American because of Undertale’s only official translation (as far as I know) being into Japanese. As an homage to all the games Toby grew up with by nintendo and such!!

So yeah Geno, Error and any others!! ☆

Ooohhh I love that!! I love headcanons/ideas about UTMV characters' ethnicities/nationalities. I'd love to see the idea of the Undertale monsters (and their Multiverse derivatives) being japanese-american be explored

#undertale #undertale au #utmv #undertale multiverse #sans #classic sans #dfl general chatting

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daflangstlairde-art · 7 days ago

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Error, the autistic teenage girl in an old man’s body.

No but this man is afraid of the dark. You’re telling me the guy who knows nothing but infinite bright white wouldn’t be terrified when suddenly it’s pitch black? Additionally he’s used to sooooo so much space!! He is claustrophobic!! Small spaces SUCK!! Outertale is amazing because it’s pretty, not just white NOTHING and it’s a big open space unlike those gross caverns every other au is set in.

A bean bag? That’s it? With his love of making puppets and allll those layers he should have plushies!! So many plushies…

And blankets!! Fluffy ones. If he isn’t out destroying or watching undernovella he is snoozing surrounded by his many stuffies. He’s always hugging his little classic Sans puppet he made though. Depending on how you view their relationship maybe he has Ink too!! I think even in the most underverse adjacent aus they get along somewhat. I like to think they’re best friends!!

That’s all!! I fear I’ll overshare, farewell!! ☆

I love headcanons exploring all the little habits and thoughts that being in the Void/Anti-void would give a character — that place sounds fittingly awful, no wonder Error and others go haywire, I would too xD

I can absolutely see him being so used to the Anti-void that he just can't acclimate to dark spaces, to small spaces, to too much stimuli; and I love the possible juxtaposition with him and Ink regarding this! The way they kinda experienced similar circumstances, and yet portray two entirely different responses — Error struggling to stomach anything but the Anti-void, and Ink struggling to stomach anything even remotely similar to it </3

I like the idea that this adds onto Error's liking towards Outertale, that's so cute <3

I also love any ideas about Error and all his self-care xD That man likes to be COMFY, pampered even, what an icon <3 Give him his soft blankets (with a highly inoffensive texture so it doesn't get Too Much) and his useless facemasks and his soap opera <3

#undertale #undertale au #utmv #undertale multiverse #error sans #ink sans #dfl general chatting

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daflangstlairde-art · 8 days ago

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You want headcanons?

Well.

For Fatal Error, I like to think he sometimes drifts (like drift on a switch controller that makes your character move.)

I also think Ink gets Art block in a literal sense. Like when he can’t create, a block of art prevents him from going anywhere.

Then we have classic…I think Classic turns his pupils off to sleep but everyone else thinks it’s for intimidation.

Nightmare secretly devours any apple he sees like a rodent.

Dream developed an apple and nut allergy.

Error isn’t just a chocolate fiend, he’s a connoisseur of chocolate!

Ooo I always loove any headcanons and concepts that involve applying funky reality-non-reality logic to characters, such as video game mechanics or making phrases literal!

Classic turning his pupils off to sleep is hilarious xD He would do it just to mess with people xD

I also love any headcanons and concepts involving the Dreamtale brothers and apples! Whether it's an obsession or a repulsion or anything else, it's really interesting hehe. I had this more shitposty idea recently of Nightmare having this whole unspoken rule that nobody is allowed to eat apples around him, and he takes great offense to it (but really it's just to be dramatic <3 xD), meanwhile he himself will very frequently eat apples and apple pastries and such

Error as a chocolate connoisseur is also very funny — to build off on it, imagine he actually didn't bother with any expertise, but he also just wants to be dramatic about it xD Someone gives him chocolate to appease him and he starts going on a rant like "UGH the process of making these is ATROCIOUS, can you not taste the lack of [INGREDIENT]–" but he just finds it funny to watch the person stutter and sweat about it xD

#undertale #undertale au #utmv #undertale multiverse #fatal error #fatal error sans #error sans #dreamtale sans #dream sans #nightmare sans #dfl general chatting #ink sans #classic sans #sans

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daflangstlairde-art · 9 days ago

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Headcanon that Dream has the resilience of a fucking cockroach.

Like, no matter how hard you harm him physically, the positivity flowing through his body will let him ignore the pain long enough to finish the fight. But also long after.

And so because he'd ignored it for so long, when all that positive energy finally chills out, he's just completely wiped out. All the pain comes back to him at once, and he can hardly even move because of how much he's feeling all at once and from how much he's been mistreating his body.

And maybe he often does this intentionally. He tries to keep all that adrenaline and(more importantly) positivity flowing through his bones as much as possible because he doesn't feel like he deserves a rest. His job is to protect the multiverse from Nightmare, and that's a job that lasts 24/7/365.

He never rests. He doesn't deserve it. At least not in his eyes.

OOOHHH YESS You've unlocked one of my Cutscenes, this is one headcanon I also have and love to explore, though not so much because of his Positivity; mostly I just like to imagine him to be a really resilient guy!

No matter what, he keeps trudging onward. No matter his wounds, his suffering, his exhaustion, he is wholly dedicated to his duty, and in his mind he doesn't have the choice to stop, it's not a question that is even being asked — he is a soldier and must keep marching

A friend and I talk about this very frequently — the interpretation of Dream that he will not stop, will not rest, and it's absolutely slowly destroying him. He will give everything he has to help others, help the Multiverse, no matter if it runs him into the ground — in his eyes, that's what he's for, after all, it's what he is

I incorporate this into practically all my fics that include Dream so far, especially "A Noble Occupation"

(It's especially fun when you consider the concept of Shattered (or other concepts where he snaps/breaks/gets to the end of his rope/etc, because how do you narratively destroy a man who is so willing to destroy himself and do it with a smile, because it's his duty and it's all he knows and he believes it's right and good? He will bend and bend and bend, bending is all he ever does, so what the hell would be enough to make him finally snap? What would it take to push him over the edge, or to put an end to this worn routine and this mindset?)

I have. A lot of thoughts and feelings on Dream akdnwofkwkf I've been thinking and talking a lot about him lately haha, I looove this interpretation of him (amongst others)!!

#undertale #undertale au #utmv #undertale multiverse #dreamtale sans #dream sans #dfl general chatting #shattered dream

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daflangstlairde-art · 9 days ago

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Was my ask eaten? I have no clue! Tumblr told me it was! So im gonna ask again, sorry if you get a duplicate lol

What do you think about bad stinky og canon Goopmare design vs good regal pretty Nm design?? (i think its quite obvious which one i prefer but yk)

I can find reasoning for both, it heavily depends on what a specific nms personality is like for me, but I'd like to hear your thoughts on it as well! I'm giving you some more enrichment over here /j

(This is what I received!)

Heeeyy don't be rude now, you wouldn't say that to Joku's face would you? xD

I, personally, tend to lean towards the more fancy dressing for Nightmare too! Primarily because of how I portray him in my head and in my writing, whether he's Nightmare as a person or as the embodiment of Negativity. In both, I imagine him as someone who consistently craves and needs to put himself above others, in any way he can — whether because he's a being that's just like that, or because he was traumatized by feeling inferior and terrified and powerless in his childhood and now refuses to feel that way again

He establishes himself as more, higher, better, more powerful, more authoritative, etc etc; something great, something that commands, something basking in plentifulness (since, as a child, he was deprived of so much)

Also the royal/fancy clothes are fun design-wise, I find them fun to draw (even when I don't push it as much as I'd like, I'm still trying to get used to deviating from canon/established character designs–)

But I also love goopier or more creature-esque or more chill/nice versions of him! And just like you said, for different versions fit different clothes

#undertale #undertale au #utmv #undertale multiverse #nightmare sans #dfl general chatting

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daflangstlairde-art · 9 days ago

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I do, however, have a specific kind of OCD/OCPD Cross headcanon that I haven't really seen anyone else do (though to be fair, again, I haven't read that much Cross-centric fics),,

Epic & Cross thoughts? 👀

Not many unfortunately!

I never read Epic's story when I was younger and I haven't yet gotten to him. One thing I can say is that he has an EPIC design /gen, really cool design, and the creator's art looks really good from what I've seen !

I never got into Cross when I was younger either, mostly because I was watching Underverse/Xtale develop in real time xD But he also has a FANTASTIC design, I've seen really cool fanworks of him! I've already rewatched Xtale, I still need to read the comic and rewatch Underverse. From what I've seen, I think there's a real chance I'll really like him! I really want to learn more about him and see the point of view of Cross Fans™

I need to draw Cross at some point; I like headcanons about him, such as the NPD headcanon; and I love trans Cross too, I think it ties up fantastically with the themes of reclaiming his identity for himself!

Since you asked for them both — I also know people often show them as friends or even ship them, it's not the type of dynamic I personally usually get into but they seem cute and like they build off of each other's energy <3

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daflangstlairde-art · 9 days ago

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Epic & Cross thoughts? 👀

Not many unfortunately!

#undertale #undertale au #epic sans #epictale sans #cross sans #xtale cross #dfl general chatting #utmv #undertale multiverse

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daflangstlairde-art · 9 days ago

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You asked for silly headcanons, so silly headcanons you will receive

Dream makes small jewelry for his friends because the circlets meant so much to him and Nightmare, and even if Nightmare doesn't wear or destroyed his, Dream still values what the circles meant, and that was the connection they had to eachother :)

Classic true and beloved Sans Undertale and any timeline offshoot (murder time trio, Error, Geno, Fatal, etc) have shitty doctor handwriting that only their papyrus and other versions of himself can/could read. Some of them (cough anyone under Nm) could have been forced to change their handwriting due to... let's call it convenience.

THE DOCTOR'S HANDWRITING that's hilarious

Nightmare being like "You write like UNCULTURED NEANDERTHALS–" and his underlings responding with "We're more literate than YOU, YOU ANCIENT OCTOPUS–"

And awww the Dream headcanon is so cute!

—

"For me?" Ink held the little bracelet in his hands, the way one would hold an egg. Brown and white and yellow and green threads interweaved; a little sloppy in a distinctly handmade manner. Staring at Dream, wide-eyed.

"Um... yes!" Dream nodded, smiling. "Sorry it's not... very fancy, I didn't have much time–"

"You made this for me?!" Ink repeated, still in disbelief. In a good way. There was a fluttering bright yellow in the center of his ribcage and the tips of his fingers.

"Of course! You're my friend!" Dream nodded again.

"I'm– I'm your friend?" Ink's voice pitched even higher. "I'm your friend!" a laugh bubbled out of him.

"Yes!" Dream laughed, "Of course!"

Yes, they were friends! Well– Dream was his friend practically ever since they met (which wasn't that long ago), in Ink's eyes. But Dream considered Ink his friend too? Ink, who was so different from him, who didn't have a soul?

...Someone cared for something like him?

Gentle blues and warm pinks and, most of all, bright yellows simmered in him, making him almost overwhelmed enough to physically need to expel them, haha.

Dream oofed with how hard Ink barreled into him for a hug.

...

"You're my friend," Dream said quietly, hugging him back just as tight. "Never, ever doubt I care about you,"

#undertale #undertale au #utmv #undertale multiverse #ink sans #dream sans #dreamtale sans #nightmare sans #drabble #daflangstlairdefanfic #dfl general chatting

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daflangstlairde-art · 9 days ago

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Alright, you ask you recieve...what are your thoughts about Horror?

I am HAPPY to receive xD

I love Horror !! He's not one of my Main Blorbos, as in, I haven't had a recent time where I've gotten into his head, but I love him

The original comic is really cool with an Awesome art style, and I need to get around to rereading it

I love many different interpretations of him, in general I love seeing different interpretations of characters — I love him when he's a bitch (/aff!) with a personality leaning towards justice who steps up against people doing awful things; I love him when he's soft and chill and nice; I love him when he's terrifying; I love it when people give him animalistic traits and behaviors, both because I love animalistic traits and behaviors in characters, and also when it explores the horror (heh) of losing your cognitive abilities and/or personality due to the hardships you've endured; I love him when he's one of the more reasonable and intelligent characters; I love themes of hunger and food and cannibalism/"cannibalism"

And ships with him tend to be pretty cute, such as with Farm (oh to have a cute husband and a peaceful life full of food!)

Overall he's very cool <3

#undertale #undertale au #horrortale sans #horror sans #oh i probably need a tag for answering asks don't i #uhhhh #dfl general chatting #good enough xD

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daflangstlairde-art · 9 days ago

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Please,,,, talk to me about UTMV,,,,

I wanna talk about Ink so bad,,, and the Dreamtale brothers, and the glitches (Error, Fatal Error, Blueberror), and Dust, and Classic,,,, and Fell and Killer and Horror and Reaper and Lust and Blue and so many–

Send me your headcanons, design ideas, fun thoughts, canon lore, your favorite content of the characters, plot ideas, ships, niché AUs or characters you love, stuff you've made, PLEASE I wanna talk about UTMV stuff

#undertale #undertale au #utmv #undertale multiverse #ink sans #dream sans #nightmare sans #dust sans #error sans #fatal error #i'm not gonna fill up all the tags aofkwlfkwk just the ones i wanna talk about the most #but literally anything is welcome

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daflangstlairde-art · 11 days ago

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Recently I wanted to collab with some artists, and this is a collab with @toffeebrews !!

They made the sketch which is shown below (next to a cropped version). Toffee your style is very fun and full of energy, I enjoyed lining and rendering it a lot hehe !! <3 I'm happy you liked my idea of Ink rollerskating, and it's hilarious you put him on a hill xD

Ink belongs to comyet

#undertale #undertale au #utmv #undertale multiverse #ink sans #ink!sans #art #fanart #art collab #sans au #undertale fandom #undertale ink #illustration #digital art #daflangstlairdeart #undertale aus #i love his lil tail

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daflangstlairde-art · 12 days ago

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"Starstruck"

Part 2 of whenever, wherever (we'll always be together)

Fanfic summary:

“And yet a trace of the true self exists in the false self.” — Dust has forgotten what it's like to be cared for, it seems. Red wishes he could remind him.

Chapter 2, 2169 words

Content warnings and further information on ao3.

—

Red’s job wasn't that bad honestly. Owner — her name was Dahlia, a badass middle aged bitch, he called her Deli Meat — was pretty content having him. Especially considering Red could shove someone out the establishment with technically no physical force. Which was great, ‘cause he could get rid of problematic assholes without needing the excuse of it being self-defense or a citizen’s arrest or whatever, and wouldn't get in legal trouble over it.

She also just liked his vibe and how he neither took crap from others nor gave a crap. She'd learned to trust his judgment.

Today was another pretty normal day. Most people just came in, laughing and all, got a bit drunk, had a night with their friends, left with a taxi. There were issues surprisingly rarely. Maybe ‘cause of Red’s presence manning the door and makin’ rounds, maybe people were just normal. Music blasting loud even outside; colorful lights in the dark of night; the smell of alcohol and smoke and perfume.

Red watched a group of men approaching, chatting amongst themselves, laughing loudly in a way that showed they’d clearly already been drinking.

Or...

Red squinted. Some of them were definitely on alcohol, sure, but...

He stood at the entrance, starting on the standard procedure of checking their shit for weapons or substances they shouldn't be carrying. Ignored the expressions and snorts from them, mainly regarding his height. Dumbfuckers. He could whoop their ass in a fight. Humans were terrible at judging opponents and intent. All of ‘em had a little too much confidence in themselves, Red thought. Sure, it'd take every monster soul to equal a single human soul or whatever the hell — except that's exactly why monsterkind turned to violence. They were a lot tougher now.

...Dust could kill any of these morons in a snap.

The guy had so much power. No one could fuck with him. It made Red wanna puff out his chest with second-hand confidence, like a proud bird showing off his mate or some shit. Look at him, bein’ the one Dust doesn't off, the one Dust keeps beside.

Not that Dust was his mate. (Unfortunately.)

But Red could kick their ass without Dust too.

They were clean, though, nothin’ questionable in their possession. Red let ‘em enter, but made a mental note to keep an eye on them for the night.

There were one too many cases of attacks and shootings targeting monsters in the last year.

—

Red knew to be quiet when coming home at bullshit o'clock, since Papyrus woke up early and therefore, even with all his endless energy, would kick Red’s ass for waking him. So he tended to ‘port directly back to his room.

He was surprised to find the lights on. He was even more surprised to turn around and see Dust awake.

And shit, wasn't he a sight like always. Even when he was just... plainly sitting on Red’s mattress, on the side that he seemed to have picked as his favorite. Back against a propped up pillow, one knee slightly pulled in, hood on, holding a book. Reading a book on physics or something, judging by the image on the cover.

Huh. Seems he took advantage of the small bookshelf in Red’s room. Red was... honestly delighted to see him indulging in the activity. Sans was always more into this sciency shit than even Red. It was... kinda lovely to see a glimmer of that in Dust.

(The guy was so messed up. He deserved something nice. A hobby.)

It was kinda lovely coming back to his bedroom with Dust inside waiting for him.

“hey,” Dust greeted simply, though his eye lights flicked from the text to Red.

“hey yourself,” Red greeted in turn, blinking. Kickstarting his movement as he toed off his shoes somewhere around the door. “what y’ readin’?” he asked mostly for idle conversation. Though part of him hoped Dust would maybe go on a cute-ass nerd tangent about it like he did way, way back before.

(Before he started losing interest in... everything.)

Dust just shrugged with a noncommittal hum, though returned to his reading. Red leaned to the side to try and glance at the title better.

Black holes. Ah, he never quite got more than a few pages into that one, but it’d been pretty cool. Dense stuff, you needed to have a solid base for it. Which Red didn't, since his focus turned away from science, like... years ago. Although he was still considerably above others in knowledge.

Ey, Red was happy to see Dust had freely helped himself to a book.

He took off his jacket with a shuffle audible due to their lack of conversation. Draped it over the back of his chair. Sniffed the corner of his sweater to check how bad it smelled of alcohol and smoke.

...Not too bad. Good enough.

He flopped down in bed, fuckin’ tired. He'd already eaten a snack to heal the minor nicks in his HP from the fight that did eventually go down with those druggies, but still.

Some reflex in his brain almost made him instinctively reach out to wrap his arms around Dust. Red kept that entirely internal. Dust’s aura a reminder. The ‘keep your hands to yourself or lose ‘em’ type.

For a couple of moments, Red just laid there. Watching whatever was uncovered of the side of Dust’s face as he contentedly read. The quiet rustle of a page flip.

Honestly, Red could fall asleep easily to this, right here, right now. Maybe he was already getting used to Dust’s cold murder vibes, but it felt pretty dang comfy. Warm, compared to the chill of outside. Pleasantly quiet, most sounds muffled by the soundproofing.

And, well. If any threat at all popped up, Dust could eliminate it in a heartbeat. Squash it like a lowly bug.

Red was naturally pretty hypervigilant. For as much as he slept, he could wake up at the smallest thing really. Especially sensitive to intent. But the background knowledge of a stronger presence, one that seemed to be on his side... it kinda made you feel... safe.

A rare feeling.

Red yawned, metaphorical eyelids drooping. Face squished into his pillow. Mm. Comfy.

Dust’s eyes flicked to him again, and he shut his book. Placing it on the ground beside the mattress.

“naw, i didn't mean to make you stop, y’ can keep readin’,” Red quickly argued.

“nah, it's fine,” Dust said quietly, pushing himself up. He didn't sound upset — it was his normal quiet.

(Maybe on the side of softer. Or maybe that was wishful thinking again.)

“seriously,” Red yawned, “it ain't a problem,”

“sure,” Dust dismissed him, already by the light switch. And then the room was pitch dark again. Only two sets of eye lights piercing it.

Dust dragged himself back to bed, audibly kicked off his slippers, and Red felt the mattress physically dip with his weight as he got under the blanket. Again, the image and sensation of reaching over and pulling Dust into his embrace.

Dust once again laid with his back to Red. But he wasn't cocooned on all sides now. He laid a little more comfortably.

Red kept watching him idly, only seeing rough shapes in the darkness.

For a few moments, there were only the sounds of their breathing. Level. A human would assume Dust was already asleep.

“...it’s nice to see you're still into that space stuff,” Red commented quietly.

Dust didn't reply immediately, though Red didn't expect him to do so at all. Just kept breathing rhythmically.

“...needed something to occupy my brain,” he spoke, partially muffled by the pillow. Red hummed in acknowledgment.

He wanted to reach out. At least to lay a hand on Dust’s shoulder. Feel the subtle heat of a living. Feel the hardness of bone under.

He didn't, of course.

...Instead, he got a banger idea.

“hey,” Red started, pushing himself up on his elbows, “wanna see somethin’ cool?” he yawned again.

Dust slowly pushed himself up like him. Looking at him in the dark with those sharp colors.

“what?” he asked, eyes a little narrowed. “is that an innuendo?”

Red barked a laugh.

“it's a surprise, but trust me,” Red pulled off the blanket, an excited energy mingling with his sleepy haze, “i think you'll love it,”

“o... kaayy,” Dust muttered, also getting to his feet while Red slapped on the lights and put on his jacket. Luckily Dust was still dressed — in Red’s clothes ‘cept the hoodie and scarf of course (which, yes, was a great sight) — so hopefully he wouldn't be too cold.

“actually–” Red rooted around his drawers for a large towel. They might linger for a while, and it was real rainy as of late.

Dust didn't comment. Just waited patiently for him. Watching him.

“–there, alright, y’ good with me ‘porting us?” Red turned to him to ask.

Dust shrugged in the relative darkness. “yeah,”

“great,” Red moved into Dust’s space to metaphysically grab ahold of him.

And in a flash, they were outside.

The mountain itself was colder than the city. There was even snow in the highest parts. Luckily not here, though the grassy clearing smelled of rain anyway. Of damp dirt and cold. Crickets were singing in the bushes. A classic picture of a night scene.

Dust glanced around in minor confusion. Face dark, but visible enough with the overhead glow and that of his eyes.

“...a field?” he questioned, looking at Red.

Red smirked.

He pointed upwards, and he saw the exact moment Dust looked up and saw it. Eye sockets slowly widening. A breathless quality dawning on his face. His shoulders lowering in awe.

The night sky.

Even though there were clouds tonight, it was still so... visible. Here, far enough from the city’s light pollution.

A massive, spanning darkness of a canvas. The moon, somewhere fuller than halfway and bright white.

And the stars.

Just here they could probably see hundreds of them. Little lights splattered, little hopes in the abyss. In reality, entirely different planets or balls of gas. Bigger than the planet they were on, which was already so much more than the underground. Bigger than anything they'd ever seen. Dozens of them likely already dead, trillions of years away.

And yet, here they were. Tiny, but just bright enough to be visible to the two of them.

A whole entire universe.

“wow...” Dust breathed out. Eye lights flicking from one to another to a third. The expression of someone trying to fit all this grandeur in their gaze.

“yeah,” Red whispered.

When they’d first been freed, he’d spent countless nights just... awake, late at night. Watching the night sky. The movement of it. Every tiny speck of light, persevering from so, so far away. It felt 2D sometimes, honestly, because he’d been used to seeing only pictures of it, or the crystals of Waterfall. Even when he discovered this clearing and started coming here, it was just...

...You just cannot process this. Infinity, right above your head. Limitless and deadly and stunning. Crushing and freeing all at once.

...Cheesy as it sounded, oftentimes, Red had thought about Sans. Again, the man was three times nerdier than him. Red couldn't even count how many times Sans had spoken to him about the stars and the planets and shit, always conceptual. Always just out of reach with every Reset, like it was mocking him. Even in the best of runs, they never got more than a couple moments out of the underground before they were right back under with (almost) everyone being none the wiser.

And now he got to finally give ‘em to Dust. He finally got to see Dust’s expression as he saw them. The real deal. Right in front of him, at last.

And to see Dust smiling sincerely.

The coldness having melted from his expression for the first moment since his arrival. Leaving the space for something more present, more open, something real, something... softer.

“they're...” Dust whispered, eyes glued to the sky above.

“...beautiful,” Red agreed, soaking every detail of Dust’s face. Beautiful.

He laid out the thick towel on the ground and sat right down. Patting the spot next to him in invitation to Dust.

Dust barely glanced at him as he sat down beside him. Red didn't mind though. The space was small enough that their shoulders brushed. Red pushed down the desire to take Dust’s hand and squeeze.

The crickets kept singing. With his head tipped back, the moonlight reflected off the white bone of Dust’s face. He was mesmerized by the sight above.

“so,” Red chuckled quietly, “you wanna come here again tomorrow, stardust?”

(It was so much more than that.

Does this matter, at least? Is this worthwhile? Is this worth staying alive for another day? Is this worth the passage of time?

Is this worth sticking around?)

Dust let out an amused huff. It was a soft sound.

“...i think i’d like that,”

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