#Color was helping him work on it. when he could get Killer away from Nightmare of course

[somegrumpynerd]

Remaining kitties for the garden

Here are all the kitties who didn't make it to the website and their pet screens c:

^The regular kitties (The nothing option would make Error show up and just kinda glare at everybody lol and there would be mirror and paper bag options to see Dust and Horror again)

^The winter kitties (The snow option would bring out Blue and Dream, the christmas lights brought Fresh and the stocking was Ink)

^The special pairs (I don't think any of these made it to the polls lol but putting out a bed would bring Horror and Dust together, putting out a rainbow cushion would bring Color and Killer (this was how you would finally be able to pet him) and putting down comic books would bring Epic and Cross, who would finally purr when pet with his bestie)

[buubonita]

What do you think the bad sanses love languages are? Like physical touch, gift giving, etc

Well this is a hard one to define. Mainly because it will be an answer based on what I understand of the characters and not so much if it is canon appropriate or not.

But canon doesn't matter.

BSP displays of affection, do you mean between them or towards each other? I still can't figure out how they work together. So I'll talk in general.

I think Killer has no idea what it is to give affection. And if he does, his ideas must be distorted by his own experiences. The closest thing to a display of affection he could have is to warn others from the knowledge he has about his environment and the people around him if that can avoid an unpleasant moment (I go back to that post where I said he would advise Dust and Horror about Nightmare and when or how to handle him)

I don't see either of them being physically affectionate. Killer touches others as a method of keeping himself grounded rather than with a good intention. I'd say it depends on the state of his soul but I'm not sure either (state 3 and 4 seem to be prone to extreme violence and 1 is the full awareness of guilt eating away at the poor guy)

Killer doesn't have the best references when it comes to giving affection either. If we think of a setup where Murder and Horror are there as "toys" that Nightmare gave to Killer, I can see him translating Nightmare's behaviors to the two of them.

Though who knows, maybe he can learn a thing or two from the right person.

Murder and Horror seem to be the most willing to do something terrible in the name of those they love the most.

Horror doesn't seem like the gushing type at all, Sans didn't usually be either but he showed his affection for his brother in small gestures (reading to him before bed, helping him make costumes for his party, peeling an apple for him) so I think he would follow that same pattern of doing small things, niceties to take care of who he cares about. Maybe he knows Dust has a favorite color and gives him a gift of that color, or maybe he lets Killer name his weapons and addresses them that way.

Small nonsense but it makes it known that he is there.

What I do see as a form of affection, and partly because his memory fails, is that Horror gives nicknames to the people he hangs out with. The more nicknames, the more dear they are to him.

I also don't see him touching anyone so openly. Maybe on rare occasions and they are simple touches like punches or pats.

However, he is not above hurting or simply ignoring their personal desires and convictions. He fed his brother human flesh despite Papyrus telling him he didn't want to, he lied to the entire town about a new policy because he didn't want to take responsibility for things getting screwed up because of him, and he condemned his friends (although he is not the only one to blame) to a screwed up life.

Nightmare.

All of Nightmare's "displays of affection" lead to violence. Nightmare can't feel healthy affection for anyone in his corrupted state. I think even if he wanted to love someone, he'd end up hurting them.

I've said this before, but Nightmare would definitely compliment anyone in the group while they're dying because he finds their pain "too irresistible."

Becoming the object of Nightmare's affection only brings more pain unfortunately.

In a healthy version it's even hard to determine, because the best mercy Nightmare could give the MTT is to let them go. While some like to explore the idea of ​​Nightmare striving to improve, I personally like that but it also depends on how heinous Nightmare's actions have been and trying to determine if it makes sense for the rest of the MTT to trust his promise of wanting to change for the better.

If he did change for the better, their relationship wouldn't stop being complicated. There are no perfect relationships, there will always be instances of tension between parties even in the best of times and it's a matter of everyone involved doing their part to make it work. Relationships are not one-sided and one person cannot and does not have to bear all the responsibility.

It would be nice to see, if Nightmare were to redeem himself, teach others to better manage their "negative" emotions in less destructive and healthier ways. And above all learn to respect everyone's personal boundaries.

Nightmare would be fine with physical contact if he was the one to initiate it, I think. He would have to trust someone a lot to let them touch him and it wouldn't last long.

And lastly there's Dust.

I really like the idea that Dust writes. He doesn't know how to voice his feelings very well so he's better at writing them down. Maybe little notes left in the space of the people he cares about, even if they're just loose sentences, it doesn't take a lot of words to express great things when it comes to feelings.

And sometimes saying I love you feels like an impossible feat or something sacred that not many feel ready for.

Dust and physical contact don't get along very well either, but I like to think that sometimes he would initiate contact, leaning on his companions to make himself noticed and know that he is there.

I hope this satisfies you, anon! Thank you for your ask, i have fun braining all this.

[howlsofbloodhounds]

I'm so sick rn, so gonna drop some sick headcanons for Color Spectrum Duo.

Killer:

Under Nightmare or Chara he always pushed himself through the sickness until he literally collapsed

I think fever would destabilize monster's magic, and there is no better reminder than it for Killer that he's still a monster at his core. Because it happened more than once that he accidentally teleported into the Void while sick

With Color, since his bestie gets upset if he works/does chores when sick he does the next best thing (in his mind) and hides in his wardrobe until the 'danger' is gone

If Delta is over for a visit he's surprisingly clingy with him. He's exclusively clingy with him when he's sick. And it's literally just because Delta registers as the biggest threat in the group, so if he's around him he's untouchable by anyone else

Horror, Dust, and Cross have never once seen him sick, he made sure of that. Because he needed to be the untouchable one between them so they didn't think they could ever do something stupid like running away while he was in charge. It didn't work too well with Dust or Cross, but it worked like a charm for Horror

Killer is usually the one doing most house chores between him and Color, and Color at times has to physically restrain him from doing them when he starts noticing him getting sick (he always notices before Killer. He has 6 kids to take care of, he has a sixth sense for that shit). Killer is the most stubborn about cooking (that's mainly because he likes it, but he'll never admit that)

-

Color:

If you think that Color is any better at handling his sicknesses than Killer you're seriously mistaken. He's a parent to the core, his anxiety shoots through the roof if he's unable for whatever reason to take care of others

Killer usually calls over Delta and Epic to take care of him when he's in that state (Cross often tags along) because he has no clue of how to help

His fires get actually hot and dangerous when he's running a fever because his magic goes haywire too. So, as cuddly and clingy as he feels, he can't hug others and that's truly the worst thing

While in the Void he never was suck, so he often associates dark spaces with recovery while ill, so taking care of him often turns into a game of hide and seek

The younger souls get anxious when he's sick, a good way to keep them calm is putting on some cartoons or playing some light-hearted music. Keeping them calm is vital to avoid Color's dad mode from kicking in

Color is the one who gets sick the most among the extended chromatic crew because of his pre-existent physical issues. This does mean that his buddies are the most used to taking care of him, but it also worries them immensely and it means they're often overly careful with him (to the point that he often has to tell them to knock it off)

It sucks to be sick, I hope you’re able to feel better soon! 🙏 🫂

Killer lingering around Delta more than usual must be the biggest sign that bro isn’t feeling well 🙏. Delta probably gotta wrestle bro into resting.

Color getting anxious because he can’t basically hen over someone now feels canon to me 💀. Bro always gotta be moving, always gotta be doing something for someone. I’m very curious to know how “hide and seek” when Color’s sick goes down. Also love the idea that he finds comfort in the dark and dark places when sick, precisely because he never got sick in the Void.

And given that Killer hums to himself canonically, and Integrity is associated with music via those eighth notes, maybe Killer hums and whistles while he does some chores or work nearby and Integrity sings the lyrics for Color and the younger souls when Color is sick.

[nogacheloveka-blog]

The Bad Sanses somehow ended up in the Backrooms. №15

<-Switch to Russian ver.

next 16

prev 14

This is the translation of the another post from Russian to English. I understand English, but it is very difficult for me to write in English, so I asked chat GPT to help me. I have corrected some parts, but there still may be mistakes.

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

Sometimes I notice that I don't spend enough time on all six characters, as I can't come up with a suitable activity or mini-plot for them. For example, poor Horror or Cross, whom I mention so rarely, *sigh*...

This part was half done even before I mentally broke down a bit, and I finished the rest just a today. I don't even remember where I planned to take the plot. So I'll just improvise.

I find it ironic that the story has stalled at a level where the characters are meant to wander for a long time. Here’s the original draft creation date on Tumblr, and here’s the publication date. So, it seems they’ve been wandering for about 7 months?

Thanks to @geno2108

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

Killer wagered his body in a card game.

But it didn't have much effect. In the end, he reached for the bottles of alcohol in the mini-bar and managed to convince Dust and Horror to play cards with him. Cross refused but sat nearby, keeping an eye on the group. No one needed any new broken arcade machines. This place had already suffered enough.

Dust and Horror teamed up to win. But they overestimated the Killer: he was drinking shots too heavily and at some point passed out. He fell, knocking over bottles and a plate of snacks.

Well, he’s their prize, and Dust has plenty of colorful gel pens and markers in his pockets.

Cross was worried about what was on his face. It didn't bother him, but he felt foolish. The color wouldn't wash off (it was clearly getting brighter). It was uncomfortable. Was this normal for mushrooms? Some kind of natural dye like turmeric? Could natural dyes be this persistent? Maybe the mushroom had sprouted in the pores of Cross's bones? The swordsman nervously scratched under his eye socket, even though he didn't feel any itch. He had, of course, used Almond Water. But maybe he was only making it worse with the extra moisture?

Cross glanced at Dust. Even though they could use the local internet and had to update their notes less frequently, Cross and Dust continued to keep a notebook during their breaks (the internet was a luxury and not always available at their levels).

Since the day moths began to swirl around Dust, he had become calmer and more confident. Cross noticed that his hands no longer trembled when he wrote. And Dust no longer flinched from accidental touches, allowing them to sit close enough without unnecessary wariness (he had to get used to the feeling of insects on his bones).

Cross ran his hand over his face once more. Maybe not everything here is trying to kill or maim them?

During this time, Nightmare and Error were exploring the arcade machines. The others were useless in this activity, so they watched their games through their fingers. The main thing was to ensure that the mortals didn’t get in the way.

Nightmare didn’t want to be around his gang of kids when they were in a good mood. Error’s company was preferable: a lot of irritation, uncertainty, anger, and mental issues. Nightmare fed off them, and Error could fully concentrate on exploring the code. They both benefited.

Level 25 was a valuable place. Nightmare thought about taking it over and establishing himself there. If he could get the arcade machines to work, he could bring in the Smilers or Skin Stealers to scare away people (with particularly annoying ones, he could deal with them using his gang. Or personally).

It was frustrating that he couldn’t feed off the residents' distress when they realized such a useful place was no longer accessible to them. The liquid negativity was becoming scarcer as they moved forward. This made him feel weak, not like he used to be.

Error felt as if they were being manipulated. As if walls were being put up, forcing them to walk down a single correct path. Fine. Okay. Error would play along. And then he would kill the jester.

The killer dimension was probably clapping its hands happily, because if they found a suitable arcade machine, then—

The World Destroyer would try to fix it.

Is this a joke? Does he look like an idiot wit-h-h a paintbrush?

Let this stupid world create some kind of Behind-the-Scenes Sans and have fun with him.

S0 frus*rating. Destr0y it all t0 h3!!

Suddenly, he stumbled upon an arcade Tamagotchi. It made so little sense that it immediately caught his attention. The arcade led to Level 87, which was poorly explored by humans. Its code turned out to be open and quite simple. (Come on, I invite you.)

The damage to the casing wasn’t too severe — just a couple of broken buttons and a burn mark on the screen that looked like it came from a cigarette. People could fix it themselves if they wanted to.

Once the repairs were done, all that was left was to wait for the others, especially the Killer, who was scrubbing off marker drawings from his skull with vodka.

***

The new level greeted them with a boring straight corridor. Then a crossroad of boring straight corridors.

...

Then doors appeared.

...

Closed, open.

...

They led to boring straight corridors.

...

From time to time, there were supplies. And corpses.

...

And intersections of boring straight corridors.

.

.

.

There was nothing to explore here.

...

But then they ran into themselves.

Nightmare belongs to Jokublog Killer belongs to RahafWabas Dust belongs to Ask-DustTale Horror belongs to Sour-Apple-Studios Error belongs to CrayonQueen Cross belongs to JakeiArtwork

[signanothername]

UT/UTMV silly asks Masterpost

All Masterposts

This will only include silly asks

*tip! Those in red text will contain an explicit discussion/visual display of some sort of trigger/content warning, these could be blood, emotional or physical abuse, emotional manipulation, death, self destructive behaviors, implied or discussed suicidal ideation, suggestive content or other sensitive topics

*tip! Those in orange text will contain an implied or mentioned trigger/content warning but no explicit discussion/visual display

*tip! Asks with 💬 are without art, only text

Let me know if I missed color coding anything :)

haha short nightmare short!! shorty!!!

obsessed with how u do killer btw.

I WANT TO EXPLODE YOU

Could you draw a Nightmare sitting on a cut tree trunk (their mom)?

Just wanna say keep up with the angst

Mean girl Nightmare

He’s just a silly little girl causing some chaos <3333

Could I please have a little sketch of nightmare "protecting" Dream from Cross

When confronted with his future self, Passive's first instinct is to push Dream behind him 💬

*Explodes but not in a gay way*

*Returns back just to explode in a gay way*

I forgot to kiss the homies goodbye.

What do you think about swapdream?

Why do you like Killer 💬

If you had to give your favourite sanses vehicle modes what would they be? 💬

Nightmare, do you still love your brother? If you don't why don't you kill him at all?

Consider nightmare in grunge fairycore fashion

Killer with kitties

What gave it away????

if there‘s a „Something New“, is there a „Nothing Old“

opinions on skeleton appreciation day :>

cat socks

Color spectrum duo

Guest offer

i’m so happy to see ccino getting more attention!!

ccino our cutie pie <3

i thought nm was doing the mr beast pose for a sec lolol

opinions on Asylum Sans (Asy)???

do you like afterdeath??? Can we get some?

A tiny Nightmare sketch

Shapshifter

do you have any other plans for misplaced hatred? im kind of really obsessed with it

Do you think you might add more onto the misplaced hatred comic soon?

Silly sneak peek

Murder sketch

Nightmare sketch (foreshadowing????)

Bitty Nightmare

Bitty Killer

POKE HOLES IN THE TOPS OF THE JARS

Doodle without context

doodle with your non-dominant hand

Burnt at the stake

Mad scientist Killer

fugly ass heels

Yummy angst

Friend dynamic

Nightmare angst

Fresh

What if the Apple incident was more historically accurate for the time

Sci

Wips and sketches

Ink has certain devices that helps him in warning that he's ruining low of paints

can you do a doodle of nightmare with his hood up please?

Gay

Killer stress ball

What if Nightmare had hair

Consider Nightmare

Hey Dream can you make something or someone health Nightmare's legs or make some mental legs for him?

Ccino and Nightmare

Ink and the Nightmare gang

who is your favorite utmv papyrus?

i love your work so much man it's like the highlight of my day when you post ‼️‼️‼️

That's mean that Killer is probably a Sugar Daddy

i love how you're just THE killer sans person now

I want somebody convincing Dream to smoke

What do you nightmare does, keeps Negativity balanced or he just spread Negativity 💬

What kind of music do you think the bad sanses listen to

bro i'm such a fan of error just massively shitting on nightmare 💬

If Killer are interrest by Cross’ blood and Souls, did he’s interrest by Cross’ unique soul ? 💬

If Nightmare's an ice-cream flavour, what would he be? 💬

What do you think is Killer's favourite ice cream flavour? •w• 💬

Something about Killer is actually scary to me 💬

His fire burned out a long time ago 💬

Golden flower tea 💬

Wait, I'm sorry but in the comic where Killer almost cuts someone's eye out, is that Color or Nightmare? 💬

the short kings go for the kneecaps 💬

Hey, do you think it'd be funny if Killer and Nightmare gossiped about other people together? 💬

nah i can't belive killers just resting his head on nightmares lap like that while nightmare pets him 💬

If Nightmare knew about every spectrum he was on 💬

they, for no particular reason, are wearing cat ears

Cat coded Cross 💬

What is your opinion of Killer with freckles

Silat Sans

I think Toga and Ochako are very Colourkiller

Soriel

I was wondering if there were any nightmare ships you like? Romantically or Platoniclly 💬

Killer costume change

What do we think of apple twins being able to do photosynthesis because their mother is a tree💬

either think THEY'RE the taller twin and that's what they tell everyone

What do you think everyone smells like? Especially killer? 💬

do you think NM could grow or make shift wings out of his tendrils or goop?

Killer and lil Paps

Human Nightmare and Dream

Killer as Human?

I really want to lick Colors ankles

Nightmare likes to shift his fingers into something more claw like

Teddy

I think Dream deserves a gun

Your nightmare has the vibe of a scared stray cat 💬

[theconfusedcolorofblue]

I keep thinking of this like dynamic or just like interactions ig

like between killer and like a separate character

But not like fully messed up killer, like a version of killer who’s gotten better. yeah he definitely still has lasting issues, but I’d like to think killer could get to the point where he does almost find his own normal ig? Like nothing necessarily bad is happening, he’s not still entirely healthy, but he’s definitely gotten so much better. like He’s gotten away from nightmare, and he’s living with color, or at least color was the one helping him get better. He’s able to be in stage one and hold cats without the worry that someone may harm them (or him.)

and while I think it’s unlikely nightmare would be one to change things up, the idea of him getting a replacement of an entirely separate person keeps coming to mind. (I’d use the reasoning of nightmare eventually feeling like “people like killer are too much trouble for what they’re worth” at some point after seeing the person he’s considering to use as a replacement for killer.)

and then both killer and that “replacement” meet at some point. Maybe killer doesn’t know that they work for nightmare up front (I’d expect him to be the type to keep his distance though, like after spotting something that puts him off). Maybe they’re hurt, and killer has the misfortune of seeing them. Maybe even talking to them I don’t necessarily say misfortune because they’d attack killer, I say that because now killer has to practically look back at was his situation. Not entirely the same obviously, but it’s still familiar. though now he’s on the other side of this, but knows he can’t help them. Not just because he’s not in the greatest state to, but because that puts the idea that he may have to deal with nightmare again, and killer can’t do that. Not when he’s finally found something worth calling a home. though I don’t imagine killer would be too self focused. there’s a part of him that wants to help, and maybe (hesitantly) maybe he would. Like giving them bandages, or water, or just something. Again, I think he’ll keep his distance, maybe strike up a small conversation. Though he’ll be far away enough where he knows he could run if he needs to.

of course the two of them could never interact on the daily, or hell even the weekly. Though I’d like to think it’s small ways and things that they see each other. Not on purpose, it’s all on accident. eventually maybe it’d get to the -terribly- unlikely point that killer does try to help more, but that would take more than probably years of small interaction.

anyway yeah, not sure if that made any sense what so ever, but I was gonna loose it if I didn’t write it down somewhere. =D

[blinddreams24]

Colors

A Mermay Prompt

Masterlist

Prev / Next

“Y/n?”

You tensed at Dream’s voice. You didn’t want to see him. You didn’t want to talk to him.

“I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m sorry.” You felt him shift closer to your hideout. “I can tell you’re in there. I won’t force you to come out, but I’d like to talk.”

“…”

“…You said you work for Nightmare?”

“I never said that.”

“…No. I guess you didn’t. But you live with him willingly?”

“……Yes. What’s it to you? Are you gonna attack me like Ink did?” You growled, bristling in your little cave. You glared at the entrance but, due to the bit of twisting the opening did, you couldn’t see out of the cave.

“Oh my stars- No. I will not attack you. No one should be attacking you this early into your new life. And I will have a discussion with Ink when I see him.” Dream sounded disappointed and angry. “He may be naive, but that is no excuse for his continued behavior. He will not go unreprimanded. I will make sure of it.”

Yep. They were brothers.

“You sound like Nightmare.”

Dream didn’t immediately respond. “…I’m not certain if that is a good thing or not.”

“Do you hate him?”

“My brother? No. No, I don’t. Our relationship is… complicated.”

“Complicated like attacking him after your mom died?” You accused, immediately regretting your choice of words. You could have been nicer about that. He had been very nice to you so far.

“……He… He told you about mom?” Dream sounded sad and surprised. When you didn’t immediately respond, he sighed. “I did not mean to attack him. He was scared. I was scared. There was blood and dust on Mom’s stump. I just wanted answers. In hindsight, I should not have approached him in his violent state. Frenzies are easier to wait out than to calm. But I was not calm either. I got myself sucked into a fight with him and I haven’t been able to talk to him since. I promise you, I mean my brother no harm. I only wish to talk.”

That… sounded legit. “And Ink? What does Ink want?”

“Ink wants to feel.” Dream replied without hesitation. “He has no soul and believes saving people might help him develop feelings like most beings have. However, he follows me without question. If I tell him not to attack Nightmare, he will immediately stop. I’m sure of it.”

“You’re talking about me~!” Ink’s voice startled you and you backed further away from the opening of the cave. “Who you talkin’ to, Dream?”

“Ink.” Dream’s voice was threatening. “Do you remember that human siren I had you take to safety?”

“Oh! The pretty dolphin one?” The squid sang.

“…Yes. Did you attack them?”

There was a pause.

“Maybe? I don’t remember. I do remember them running though. Oh! They said that Nightmare was their Boss so I did attack them, yeah.”

Dream sighed. “Ink, you can’t just attack someone that works for or with Nightmare. Y/n wasn’t going to attack you.”

“Tell that to my arm.”

“What?”

There was a pause in sound as the water shifted slightly, most likely Ink showing Dream the multiple bite marks.

“…Y/n, why did you bite him?” He said seriously.

You growled. “He wasn’t letting me go! I don’t appreciate being kidnapped!”

“Woah! They’re here?” Ink wondered. Undoubtedly looking around trying to find you.

Dream groaned. “Ink, leave y/n alone. Don’t attack them. Don’t touch them. Y/n, would you please come out. We can take you back to Nightmare if you really want to go back.”

Oh, you really wanted to go back. The boys were probably worried sick. But it could be a trap for all you knew. Dream had immediately attacked Killer on sight. Speaking of which.

“What happened to Killer? Is he okay?” Your glare made it into your voice.

“Ah. Killer is… hurt. He is very difficult to dissuade from violence. He has attacked me before in my leviathan state which most would consider that equal to pleading for death. He was very lucky that Nightmare retreated that day. I almost killed him. On accident! I do not wish death upon anyone!” Dream quickly corrected himself. “If… If I could get close to Killer, I could heal his wounds. But I doubt he would let me close of his own accord.”

“I wouldn’t either if you shot me with a harpoon.” You growled.

Dream sighed again. “It was in self defense. I do wish he would not attack me on sight every time he saw me.”

“So are we going back to see the bad sirens?” Ink interrupted.

“Excuse me?!” You roared. Bad sirens?? What were they to Ink??? Dogs???

“I told you to stop calling them that.” Dream sighed a third time. His words calmed the water and you felt your anger leave you.

You inched forward. “I… I do want to go back. You won’t hurt me or my pod? Again?”

A gentle smile was in Dream’s voice. “We will not hurt anyone for as long as the water is calm.”

That was probably the best you would get.

It wasn’t a trick.

They really took you back to where you last saw Killer. There were a few stray sharks in the area, munching away at the fish you’d caught earlier but they didn’t give you any trouble as you swam past.

There were particles of dust and magic in the water that set you on your toes. Or fins, or whatever.

“Where’s Killer?” You asked.

Dream shook his head. “I don’t know. I had to break away and retreat when Horror, Cross, and Dust all pounced at me. Killer should be fine, I only shot him twice, but he was losing consciousness when I last saw him.”

“And you’re only telling me this now??” You snapped.

Ink’s eyes shot to you at your outburst, a target in one eye. You shivered and backed up.

“Y/N!”

A blur of black and white shoved its way between you and the other two sirens. The rush of water shoved you apart.

Arms wrapped around you from behind and pulled you away from Dream and Ink. A voice spoke above you.

“Y/n, are you okay?” Cross practically growled as he glared across the water at Ink.

“I’m okay.” You responded, hugging his arms to your chest when a flash of color caught your eye. You looked back at Ink to see him flared up, tentacles spread in intimidation.

His stripes were rippling, one moment grey and the next a vibrant rainbow. The colors were mesmerizing. Like staring at oil. Reds, oranges, yellows, greens, blues, indigos, and violets. Every color shifted and twisted, getting bigger and brighter with every passing second. It was absolutely beautiful.

You couldn’t see.

The water moved, someone was calling your name, and someone else was yelling. You turned your head to realize that someone’s hand was over your eyes.

“Y/n? Y/n, can you hear me?” Came Cross’s terrified voice.

“I… I can hear you.” You mumbled, clearing your head.

“Oh, thank the stars!” Cross sighed with relief, hugging you close.

The hand left your eyes but you were facing Cross now. You could hear Dream chewing out Ink behind you. Something about testing boundaries and power happy sirens.

“What happened?” You asked.

Cross frowned. “Ink doesn’t always use his voice to catch food. His body can change color quickly and it hypnotizes everything that looks. Even sirens. We’re lucky Dream stopped him before he could get caught in it too.”

“…He’s not a squid, is he?”

Cross scoffed. “No. He’s a cuttlefish.”

“Oh…” That was concerning. You curled into Cross’s chest.

Cross looked down at you. “You want to go home while they’re busy?”

You nodded.

He switched from hugging you to holding your hand, giving you the freedom of movement, before heading home.

One last thing occurred to you and you chuckled.

Cross raised a brow at you. “What are you laughing about?”

“I always knew cuttlefish were soulless.”

Cross burst into laughter.

[cvbullshit]

Can we get more "What if {insert Sans} was in the Bad Sanses?" things because that concept is so underrated and underutilized, especially when people think it means that the Sans willingly joined.

Like, let me run over some concepts of this.

Idea 1: Classic.

Not only can this be an actual strategic move but also can lead to Bad Sanses x Classic, especially toxic versions because I need me some toxic DarkHumor/ClassMare.

But literally one of the Bad Sanses can have the idea to kidnap Classic and use him as not only a hostage but a shield. Because Classic is important af to everything and while doing shit could backfire in the Bad Sanses faces, it would still be fucking bad for everything. I'm also seeing it going back and forth on Error stealing Classic to use the exact strategy for his whole thing and the Bad Sanses trying to steal him back. Classic will just be having it rough as hell in this.

Idea 2: Lust

The idea of Lust being a info giver all because the Bad Sanses are holding something over his head fucking hits hard, because he doesn't wanna be involved in this but, because of whatever they have going on to keep this a thing, he has to do it. He can offer to be an ally of the Star/Good Sanses but secretly be giving away information or secretly leading them to traps.

Bonus points for if it becomes sort of a Color and Killer situation between Lust and Dust and/or Horror.

Idea 3: Flowey!Possession

...HOW HAS NO ONE THOUGHT OF DOING THIS BEFORE, LITERALLY NIGHTMARE CAN JUST HOLD FLOWEY'S KILL OR BE KILLED MOTTO AGAINST HIM AND USE THAT TO CONVINCE OR MAKE HIM JOIN THE GROUP- Would it pose complications as at least one of the members would hate Flowey and/or feel pity for Sans? Yes but that would make it SPICY. And Flowey would probably grow to resent the group and plan to backstab them, THE SPICY DRAMA!!!

Idea 4: Motherfuckin I N K

Speaking of spicy drama- UGHHH I have seen people attempt to do this but they make the reasoning and story such ass. Ink is chaotic neutral, at most he would care about Error destroying the AUs, not really what Nightmare is doing because Nightmare forming the bad Sanses at most causes a few issues with monsters in AUs dying from the other three, Nightmare is still technically doing what his AU created him to do, it's still following the story just with added shit.

Literally, literally, Ink can be part of both the Stars/Good and the Bad Sanses, all both sides need to do is help him when he needs help dealing with Error. That's it. And neither side know Ink is helping them until Ink forgets and screws up, revealing to one side that he was working for the other. When questioned about it, he can just say what tf he was doing and one side drops him, which I more of see being the Good Sanses because I doubt Nightmare would forfeit Ink's help when Ink was being genuine, as much as he can be, in helping both sides as long as he got what he wanted out of it, Ink never said he was going to stop helping either side.

And these are ideas I came up on the spot.

WE NEED MORE OF THIS!!

[dearmizumi]

Okay so I was discussing this with one of my friends earlier and I wanna ask... Have any of y'all like— Actually ACTUALLY wondered how these "Revert AU's” would work? Specifically with the Murder Time Trio n all...

"What's a Revert AU? What's it like?" Well if you ask me, I sorta assume it's when the AT/AU returns back to normal (or at least, the closest it can get to regular Undertale), where the bad things that made that specific universe how it is gets fixed due to specific scenarios or events that happened.

I kinda wanna ramble about a Something New Revert timeline rn but I'll yap a bit first hbsjsbdns

If we follow the canon, then realistically there is no way in hell a Revert AU would be possible for Horrortale UNLESS some big miracle happens. There would need to be a very specific line of fortunate events seeing as— well... How messed up everything is.

Dusttale on the other hand would be a lot more possible if we assume the player finally decides to give up. It would be a long process, but it's honestly possible. Murder would've already fallen into the routine of killing everyone before the player catches up, but imagine... Waiting in the corridor or hiding somewhere so that you can ambush the player, but they just— never arrive. And when you try to check where they are, they're simply at the beginning of the game, laying there, doing nothing. Yeah, sure, Murds would definitely kill them the first few times this happens but wouldn't he at least be a little bit intrigued by this change of behavior?

OKAY UHM MOVING ON... I'll rant about a Revert Dusttale au later but what about Something New? What about Killer? How would that work? How would Killer handle it? Well, lemme tell you this pal. I genuinely do believe that this is possible.

If we follow the canon events of the timeline, then I'm sure you'll know that by the end of it, Killer would get interrupted and kidnapped by Nightmare either way whether he'd like it or not, and even if Nm didn't interrupt, then Killer would've already deleted himself from his AT longgggg ago. BUT, what about that timeline where Color saves Killer, taking him away from Nm's grasp? The Revert timeline could always start from there.

Imagine being Killer's Papyrus, still searching for your brother for probably years ever since he disappeared on the day he says goodbye? Imagine finding him again, returned but different, in a way. But you couldn't care less. He's still alive even after all these years and you genuinely couldn't care about finding out where'd he'd been this entire time that you can't help but embrace him in your arms, choked sobs escaping from the both of you as you ignored the stares and gazes from everyone around you. And honestly, none of them probably cared because they're equally as happy as you are. "Sans" was finally back.

Color likely helped (and accompanied) Killer to return to his timeline, despite his hesitation.

Killer would definitely have a difficult time adapting to this new life. And oh boy— Papyrus couldn't be more concerned for him ESPECIALLY with all the trauma he's endured for all these years😭

Imagine Papyrus getting him a bottle of ketchup, maybe even multiple of them as a treat for Killer because he thinks he deserves it, only for Killer to just... Back away, visibly trembling from just the sight of the bottle alone. Imagine cooking him spaghetti, wanting to show how much you've improved your cooking skills and trying to get your brother to at least eat something, only for him to just stare at it, breathing heavily as his entire body trembles from even just the smell. He looked like he was about to puke, and ultimately you decided to go with something simple for him instead, like a bowl of warm soup.

Imagine having to feed him yourself because his fingers won't stop shaking every time he picks up the spoon. You listened as he kept mumbling apologies when you grabbed a handkerchief to wipe the spilled contents. You notice how he seems to be out of touch with reality when you bring up the spoon towards his mouth, having to wait a second or two before he finally accepts the food.

Imagine having to bring your brother to your bedroom instead of his because he kept refusing to go to his own, to the point where he was begging not to. And when you do let him sleep in your bed with you, you keep waking up due to him having nightmares or having a breakdown in the middle of the night. But you don't mind comforting him, sitting with him as you let him cry on your chest, as long as you're able to help him in some way.

And oh boy, I haven't even started on how the others would react to Killer.

Like how Grillby would notice how Killer rarely ever visits. And even if he did, he would either not eat at all or order literally anything BUT his usual. Undyne, Alphys and the other would literally notice how Killer became extremely clingy to Papyrus, rarely ever seeing them separated (which is pretty understandable considering how long they haven't seen each other for...). Imagine how off putting it is going for an entire day without hearing a pun, and whenever he finally does make one, you can't help but feel a little glad.

Color definitely visits Killer on a daily basis to check on him and accompany him for a while. The others would definitely question how they knew each other or where Color came from, and the two would just brush it off like it always has been like that. Although they definitely don't mind letting Color stay for a bit since he and Killer are close. (And because he's the closest to a therapist that they can afford right now)

How would they react to the existence of Killer's other stages though? And how would the underground change ever since Killer's absence?

Will be discussed next time I feel like ranting!! Cya later folks because I am thirsty and need to eat

[officialleehadan]

Too Far

Hello darlings! Today's story was brought to you by L! Darling, thank you so much for all your support! It means the world to me!

TW: This one... got pretty dark. So there's that.

Prompt: A villain pushes a hero too far.

+++

“Please. Please let me heal him. He’s down. You won,” Feverfew begged on his knees as he tried desperately to heal up the gushing wound under his hands. He was one of the better Powered healers around, could even heal damaged cells and some illnesses, but without time to concentrate, the villain under his hands was going to die. Feverfew didn’t care that Pyroclast was a villain. Barely even knew the man in fact, but he wouldn’t let a single person die if he could prevent it. “You can drag him to wherever you want after, just let me- let me close this up.”

Too-strong hands grabbed him and pulled him away and he yelled, a bad fighter on a good day, but willing to fight anyway. “No! He’s a villain! He’s on your side!”

“He is no friend of mine. Who do you think did this to him?” Hammerblight asked in his ear as Feverfew struggled helplessly to get back to Pyroclast. Hammerblight wasn’t like Pyroclast. Pyroclast avoided civilians, but Hammerblight, he liked to watch people suffer. “How long do you think he has, little healer? What will you do to save him?”

“Anything, please!”

“Would you leave the heroes?”

“Let me go!”

“You think you can fight me?”

“He’s dying!”

“That isn’t what I asked, Healer.”

Feverfew didn’t stand a chance against Hammerblight. The villain was one of the heaviest of heavy hitters on the villain side, and had killed a dozen heroes, all more powerful than Feverfew. Now Feverfew knew that the disappearances on the villain side had probably been his doing too. A serial killer among the villains. It was the worst nightmare of the support teams like him.

“He has less than a minute. Please,” he sobbed and struggled uselessly. He wasn’t a combat Power. He couldn’t fight. He was useless. “Please. I’ll- I’ll join you. Just let me save his life. Please!”

“Tempting,” Hammerblight mused. “A healer at my beck and call. I don’t like healing the long way, but all of you little fix-it types are with the heroes. Might be nice to have one to help out here and there.”

“Let me go, and I’ll do it! I’ll swear to you! Just let me heal him!”

Feverfew staggered when Hammerblight suddenly let him go, and he ran for Pyroclast, clumsy with haste, and his Power already brimming on his hands. He was just barely fast enough to close up the bloody spray that colored the ground bright red. He poured every ounce of his Power into closing the deep wound that pierced Pyroclast almost all the way thorough. A half-inch over and it would have been a nearly-instant death, but it would only take a few moments more if Feverfew wasn’t fast.

“Come on,” he whispered as he worked frantically. “You never give up. I hear from all the heroes how you’re the one who gets back on his feet no matter what. Don’t give up now.”

The glint of a knife made Feverfew flinch, but he didn’t stop working as the blade trailed over his throat teasingly. Hammerblight laughed behind him. He liked knives, even though he was a Strength factor with the ability to deliver crushing blows to his enemies. Feverfew had healed his work more than once.

“What would you do,” Hammerblight whispered in his ear eve as Feverfew painstakingly coaxed Pyroclast’s heart back together. “If I were to put my knife into his heart right between your fingers? If I killed him just as you got him whole again?”

“I don’t know,” Feverfew gasped. The distraction nearly cost Pyroclast as Feverfew’s attention slipped, but he pulled himself back to his task with the mastery every doctor learned early. “Please, just let me heal him. You won. You beat him. What more do you want?”

“I can’t just like to watch him bleed out? You don’t have any imagination, do you? Pain is funny. Haven’t you ever had the urge to make them hurt, just a little more, while they’re under your hands?”

With the worst of the damage healed, Feverfew was able to turn his attention to the lesser damage. The ragged edges where the blood vessels were cut through. Pyroclast would still bleed to death if they weren’t healed, but it would be slower. Not much, but slower.

“Everyone has intrusive thoughts. Mine don’t control me,” Feverfew snapped to Hammerblight, but spared a quick smile for Pyroclast, whose eyes were open, just a little. “Hey, there you are. Hang on, okay? Don’t try to sit up yet.”

“No, don’t try to sit up,” Hammerblight said gleefully and leaned over Pyroclast, who tried, and failed, to twist away from the knife Hammerblight still held. “Don’t disturb the little healer, now. Don’t try to get away, or you’ll make me hurt you again.”

“It’s okay,” Feverfew tried to reassure Pyroclast desperately. He could feel Hammerblight’s breath on the back of his neck. The promise of a slow, painful death, or worse if he really did take Feverfew as a fair trade to let Pyroclast live. “I’ll get you whole. You know me, right?”

“Yeah,” Pyroclast whispered and closed his fingers around Feverfew’s wrist lightly. “Get out of here. Run. ‘M not worth it.”

“I’m not going to do that,” Feverfew told him as the blood finally stopped coming up between his fingers. “It- it doesn’t matter now anyway. Hold still, I need to do your lungs.”

“I don’t think so.”

Feverfew yelled when Hammerblight dragged him back again, this time with a crushing grip on his arm. Feverfew ignored the pain in favor of a desperate flare of his Power, directly into Pyroclast’s body. It was graceless, but it healed the worst of the internal damage. Pyroclast would live, as long as he got to a doctor. Now, at least, he had hours instead of minutes.

“Now we get to have some real fun,” Hammerblight said brightly, the mockery of Feverfew’s reassuring tones that he spared for anyone under his hands. Pyroclast pushed himself to his feet, covered in his own blood, but standing. Feverfew flinched again when the tip of Hammerblight’s knife caught the skin over the artery in his throat and drew a drop of blood. “Hey Hottie, you good for another round?”

“You know I’m not,” Pyroclast rasped, but he tried anyway. Fire boiled along his hands, almost a mirror of the soft green light that Feverfew wielded. “But let’s go, big man. Let the healer go. He’s no fun.”

“More than you’d think,” Hammerblight laughed. He looked between Pyroclast and Feverfew. “But I’ll tell you what? Let’s make it his choice, huh? What do you say, little healer? I’ll let one of you live. You pick who.”

“What?” Feverfew breathed, and began to fight again. Hammerblight just bashed him back against a wall hard enough to grey out his vision. Concussion, his rattled mind provided as his vision swam. Maybe a cracked skull too. Fixable, but slow to heal. Distorted judgement. Possible brain bleed. “No, you said- you said you would let me save him! You promised!”

“I didn’t promise anything,” Hammerblight  said and bared his teeth, completely unphased by Feverfew’s struggles. “I let you heal him because that just makes it better. Now I get to do it all again, but you have to pick. Do I do it to you, or do I do it to him?”

“Let him go!” Pyroclast yelled and flung a handful of fire at them, but Hammerblight shrugged it off as if it wasn’t even there. “You want to hurt someone? You take me!”

“You’re not a very good villain,’ Hammerblight told him mockingly. “Giving your life for a hero? Pathetic. Well, Healer? Who dies? It’s going to hurt. I promise that. I’m going to take one of you apart, and the other one will watch me do it. After that, well… we’ll see what happens after that.”

He was going to kill them both, Feverfew realized all at once. It wouldn’t matter who he picked. It wouldn’t matter what Feverfew said, or how Pyroclast tried to fight. Hammerblight held all the cards and had all the power. He was going to have his fun with them, and the mind games were only the first part of it. The real fun came when he stole their hope, too. When he stole their humanity.

“Let him go,” he said anyway and looked up at Hammerblight even as Pyroclast yelled protests and called up his fire again. It wouldn’t do any good. He wouldn’t take a real shot at Hammerblight with Feverfew in the way and they all knew it. “You can- you can have me. But you have to let him go first. You have to let him go for real.”

“Or what?” Hammerblight said, and snickered to himself, before he threw his fist out. The air bent around it and created a concussive wave that blasted Pyroclast back against the ruined building behind him. Pyroclast couldn’t even scream as the breath was forced out of his damaged lungs. “You don’t have any power here. You can’t stop me. You’re just a weak little flower, and I’m gonna rip off all your petals, but I’m gonna make you watch what I do to him first.”

Cold terror swept over Feverfew and stole what reason he might have had. The image of a flower burst into his mind suddenly, but it wasn’t the flower he was named for. Not the healing herb that grew nearly everywhere. Not the delicate thing that lost its petals the moment the wind blew past.

“Leave him alone,” he said suddenly, cold and strong and truly angry for maybe the first time in his life.  Pyroclast’s eyes found him, but Feverfew wasn’t looking at him anymore. He was looking at the towering, hulking villain before him who still held the knife that dripped with Pyroclast’s blood. “I’m warning you.”

“You’re warning me?” Hammerblight asked with a scathing grin and looked Feverfew up and down. Feverfew felt his cheeks heat. He wasn’t exactly the image of a hero. He was short, and a little thin, and not very strong because his Power just didn’t do much for his own body. He wasn’t in hero shape. He wasn’t impressive. “You can’t do anything to me.”

“You would be right,” Feverfew said softly, lethal as morphine. Hammerblight must have heard something in his voice, but he didn’t let go. Didn’t back away. “I’m just a healer, you know? But I’m a very good healer.”

“Don’t do this,” Pyroclast said suddenly. Feverfew glanced over at him, and was surprised to realize the villain was addressing him. “Don’t let him win.”

“Tell them I’m sorry,” Feverfew said, and looked at Hammerblight, who was still smiling. Who was still holding onto his arm, brutally tight. All at once, his grip relaxed, and Feverfew took a single step back from him. Hammerblight collapsed to his knees and curled in on himself, suddenly made small as pain wracked through him. As his gut cramped and his hands shook. His eyes dilated, and his heart pounded as his blood pressure began to climb. Sweat beaded on his forehead and his breath wheezed in his throat.  He was dead before Feverfew spoke again. “When they come looking for me, tell them I’m sorry, and tell them my name isn’t Feverfew anymore.”

“When they look for you?” Pyroclast asked and tried to get to his feet. Feverfew knelt beside him and pressed a hand to his chest. The Power came easier now, and Pyroclast collapsed under the mingled pain and relief as his injuries closed. Pyroclast tried to catch his hand, but Feverfew pulled away. “Hey now. don’t- don’t make any rash decisions. This was- this was bad, but you’re a hero. You’re one of the good ones, remember? What do you mean your name isn’t Feverfew?”

“You can tell them my name is Hemlock now,” Hemlock said, the edge between sanity and madness a shard of broken mirror in his mind, shattered apart by a villain who pushed a healer too far. “And I’m the one they’ll all fear when they realize what I’ve become.”

+++

Supers:

Card Shark

Heroic Rescue

Housekeeping Before Villainy

Jet Fuel

Rescue Me

On the Dance Floor (Subscriber Only!)

Two-sided love (Subscriber only!)

New Partners (Subscriber only!)

Once More To Die

Too Far (New!)

+++

MASTERLIST

[thxnymph]

My Muse Is Dead… Se7en Edition

Every day he goes back to those wonder years. A cliche way to describe his childhood but it’s truer to life than anything else. A & L’s Detective Agency took him back to a time of innocence. Best of friends. Greatest of imaginations. A tree house that was all their own. Just a perfectly constructed save haven he was able to use every chance he had. Away from his grandparents’ troubles at a time he wouldn’t even understand them. Away from the truth of his father leaving him, mother missing in action; Landon had Abel. His best friend in the entire world. Except good things aren’t meant to last. They grew a part but if he could back to the start? In a heartbeat he’d say sorry. Apologize to Abel for not working harder to remain friends. Cause in a way he’ll always blame himself. Even if it was not solely on his shoulders, Landon had a habit of falling into self deprecation. Only Abel Prince made him feel worth being in something.

It came back again. In a grim reality. Friends on opposing sides but all this blood brought them together again. BLOOD. The foundation of this horror story. If they were simple blood brothers it would have ended better. Instead Landon witnessed the blood of innocents spilled. Agonizing over those particular details began to reconnect those lost pieces for a friendship. He so desperately wanted it to go right. Somehow it only went wrong…

Landon knew the risks. Abel kept telling him. Even when they’re supposed to be partners! A team! Out of the pair a journalist being lost is hardly something to sneeze at. Nobody cares. But a detective? How? What sick fuck could slip through undercover of darkness and destroy whatever mending of friendship they began to stitch together?

“I don’t understand,” a regretful ignorance breezed past his lips. Initially it appeared to be a joke. A very disgusting one! “What do you mean the case is done? You can’t kick me off. Where’s Abel?” Oh but there it is. Assumed bad blood coming back to boot him from this investigation faded in a blink. One pitiful expression the chief of this operation; Landon felt his insides twist. How pale can a man drain in complexion? A ghost of a color crept upon him. Does it need to be said? Can death even have a soft meaning? It’s hard, resolute, final. “No way. He’s - gone off somewhere on his own. That’s all. It’s not.. he’s not dead! He’s the greatest cop I’ve even known in my fucking life! Nothing can hurt him!” Echoing a boy’s opinion, he used to think Abel could scare away every monster in existence. That’s what his best friend did for him. When he was a frightened child unable to sleep due to his grandmother’s nightmare collection of dolls. The fear that Abel never laughed about. He never laughed him. He only promised to help keep those monsters away. Now he’s gone? Right when they were just getting on common ground. Nobody can get away with this.

But a sick sonuva bitch can. A master manipulator. A serial killer can snuff life without an ounce of remorse. It can take away his best friend for good and leave him lost with al the 'what ifs'.

[xmelic]

I reblogged the one that @without-any-title did but, I wanted to add on this bit because why not! [also make it easy for the bits of lore to be written down]

I created most of them but, not the others as Baku said and also, the lore about LOOP because he's not mine either LOL.

Main [SK] - soulless killer BACKSTORY

SK or just known to be just Killer, he is the main protagonist within' this au of course. he was known to be the OG killer from a different timeline before things when down hill at end. he was part of the bad sanses gang, only to be the odd ball that no one liked. unfortunately for Killer, he didn't care. he never cared that they called him useless or a reckless dummy as to what a Killer would be. they assumed he was a fraud to his own non-existent au, slacking off his job, lazy as can be, and yet to be a somewhat FAVORTIVE to nightmare in the original omega timeline. however, Killer grew an attachment to his new friend Color, who he met along the way. he wasn't called a freak nor anything against him and which made Killer realize something. Making him realize he was something different. his feelings change every time he's always with color, sometimes with Nightmare as he tries to hid these feelings that he had felt aware of after years and years of being brainwashed from the negativity aura that Nightmare kept as Killer felt caged and didn't want to do his dirty work anymore. He kept to himself more than anything just to lack off and have his fun that he never had with his own friend until, he was snitched on by a member who notified nightmare into saying he slacked off with something different and which made a death form from his eyes. due to this. Killer felt raged and sadness against his friend's dust who died in front of him by Nightmare also soon to have his soul ripped from him and stabbed to change back to his stage 2, [based off canon killer's stages] Killer didn't want to feel this way or tried to even attend this brainwashing feeling as he was still aware about it and had the tendency to run off during later that same night. he ran away as far as he could, never to be seen and wanted his best to do the same thing. far away so Nightmare cannot track his negativity aura [even though he technically even if he was far away but, Killer here wasn't aware on full details due to everyone from the group OR EVEN THE STAR SANSES to assume he was brain loosed and didn't understand. he was lone to be treated as a child, a nobody, nothing to be important by.] as things went by day by day of Killer making his run away from the mansion. Killer soon felt better about himself, making a difference towards nature and existing on his behalf of things.

[I WOULD TELL MORE ABOUT HIM BUT, IT'S A BIT LONGER THAN I ATTENDED IT TO BE HELP. BUT, THAT'S ALL YOU ARE GETTING FOR SK]

[BUTCH] - Horror BACKSTORY

[mentions of gore, violence, and cannibalism]

P.S- Butch does not have much of a backstory that is interesting to other people but, in his au it's more so of being a butcher after loss of food supply and which he sticked with meat n' goods due to that issue.

due to the loss of food supply in between his timeline, he ate his brother due to being hungry and smelt the sense of blood from having a cut that so happened to bleed out and made Butch felt... hungry. He fought his brother with his axe and so happened to get stabbed in the arm [his brother papyrus was a blacksmith btw] and for which did nothing to stop Butch from even attempting to attack, he went for his brother's head and chopped it off. he later then ate his brother and also used the remaining body parts of him to serve it in meals to gain flavor. he was aware after this and felt guilty about himself for what he has done and people from his town questioned if he just left or something happened to him. Butch regrets his choices to the point he felt like he was a monster to his own people and for eating his own brother who did nothing but, help him. 👍

[that's all I have written down for those two since, I haven't been on the same boat to write anything down lately due to the mentions of school starting and also having no motivation to write anything so, have a MASSIVE sneak peak with those too]

You're asking for anons so here I am. Mind telling me the major difference between the soulless killer au and the main utmv. Is it cause in here,it's way more brutal and violence involved way more.

Idk much Abt the au so I'm sorry if you already state this 😅

-def not fuz

Hehehe :3 I shall explain to you what's this au 😈

So basically this au is killer without a soul (the lore is in the making sry 😭) and well most of those characters look like the most known utmv characters like dust that is loop in this au

I cant tell you much rn cuz

1. I'm bad at explaining 😭

2. We're still doing the au and the lore

But if you want explanation of a certain character I could try to explain

(Or you could ask @xmelic and @punmasterbaku for that)

Hope I helped you with that :3

[undertale-writing-times]

Tearfully person A with proud person B holding their newborn infant, Person A being us the reader and Person B being Axe?

This one was so cute! I had so much fun writing it :)

I hope you like it too

Axe never thought that he would ever have a babybones. 

His low magic levels made it so it would be hard anyway, but then with him being part of the Bad Sanses, he didn’t think he would have time to have a datemate. Luckily, it all worked out, and he was pretty happy with his datemate and the life that he was living.

Being part of the Bad Sanses meant that he had enough food for his brother, screw the rest of the Underground, he didn’t care about them. They were annoying.

But when his datemate told him that they were expecting a babybones? He was so damn shocked. 

Kinda scared?

What if something happened to his datemate and they got hurt? Or… He didn’t know. He had no idea. 

During the whole time that they were pregnant, he took very good care of them. He made sure that they had enough food, and he tried to give as much magic as he could, even sometimes maybe pushing himself too much.

He didn’t matter. 

His datemate and babybones mattered.

Time rushed by, and before he expected the babybones wanted to come out, and they went to the hospital in one of the AUs. One where they were above ground, and Axe needed to be kept away from his datemate while the doctor was doing everything because Axe’s mind took over and made him think that the doctor was hurting his datemate.

The smell of blood was too much for him to handle.

Now he was pacing around, dragging his claws along the ground and clicking his teeth or scratching at the hole in his skull. Dusty and Killer were sitting there, Nightmare wasn’t there at the moment. He said that he wanted to get a few things prepared with Error’s help. 

“Axe, come on, sit down. You’re gonna hurt yourself if you keep doing that” Killer says, Dusty nodding in approval. 

Axe growls softly, but huffs, shaking his head and kept walking around patting his hands together now. He was too nervous to sit down, his datemate might end up dying, or his babybones, and then what would happen? He wouldn’t have them anymore, and if it was only his datemate that died, then he would have to take care of the babybones himself. 

He couldn’t do that!

Finally, the time came where he was allowed to go back to see his datemate. They seemed tired, but in their arms was a big bundle of blankets. When he went over, slowly, they tilted their arms to let him see into the bundle. 

Inside was the babybones. They slowly open their eyes, looking up at him. They had two eyeshines, one a bright red color while the other was his datemate’s eye color with a circle of red around it, and their soul was half monster and half kindness. 

Slowly Axe reaches out, gently taking the bundle into his arms. They were so small… They fit in his arms so well but it felt like he could hold so many of them. They were so little! 

“A…Are they t-the ri…right size? So… small?” his eyeshine shoots over to look at his datemate, seeing tiny tears in their eyes but they smile, nodding to show yes, that was the right size. He looks down at the babybones again, leaning down slightly to nuzzle them, making sure to be careful with his teeth and claws. 

They were so small, soft, cute, and squishy. 

Just like their other parent. 

Y/n was all of those things, he needed to protect all of them now. He was going to protect them no matter what. Nobody was going to be able to hurt them, or even get close to them, if he could help it. He sits down on the chair beside the bed and leans over nuzzling his datemate now. 

He was purring so loud. 

[howlsofbloodhounds]

How do you think color(and potentially the rest of the friendgroup) feels about killer age/pet regressing

Do you think killer would try to hide it? Does killer even have a single clue of what is happening to him or why he sometimes feels like that? Would color know what it is?

I think he has a tendency to age regress most frequently when in Stage 1. It’s extremely hard to spot any signs of age regression when he’s in higher Stages, especially Stages 2 and 3, one who’d suppress and resist against vulnerability and ignore any ‘childlike’ urges or wants until his body breaks down from the stress and the other that’s basically pure survival instincts and aggression.

I think pet regression would be a lot more common in Stages 2-3. In Stage 3, Killer doesn’t really think, he just is.

He’ll curl up like a cat wherever he wants, and he’ll hiss and bite, and if he wants affection, then he’ll basically just do the skeleton equivalent of a cat walking up, jumping on you, stepping all over your stomach, plopping down wherever he wants, and if you think about moving or touching him wrong, he’ll bite you. Hard.

Given Killer is probably chronically online and uses his phone to further dissociate while working with Nightmare, I’m sure he’s considered trying to look it up—but he also doesn’t know if he wants to know.

Or perhaps because these are involuntary and triggered by reaching a breaking point, he often doesn’t even fully remember or comprehend what happened—and once back in Stage 2, it’s easy to dismiss it as not real.

Surprisingly, or unsurprisingly, Killer finds himself in good hands.

I’m sure Color is the first who witnessed something like it, back when Killer was still with Nightmare. I doubt he knew the word “age regression,” at the time, but he understood what was happening. Could empathize with it.

Not because he himself only experiences age regression the way Killer was at the moment though, but because he also shares a mind, body, and soul with six children. He is passively influenced by them, and when is a soul is “closer” to Color, he often feels younger than he is.

His thoughts become more simplified and straightforward, his speech does as well—sometimes stuttering with uncertainty. Black and white thinking becomes more extreme, and emotions are heightened more than they already are for him— just this time without a layer of adult rationalization and sometimes without the presence of Patience to temper them.

For example, when Kindness is around and influencing him, he’s so focused on being Kind he goes about it the way a child would and not the way an adult would such as;

1. being *filled with Kindness and handing away things important to him without thinking because someone else looked like they needed or wanted it more,

2. being *filled with Kindness and hugging/having the urge to hug strangers without consent or warning because they seem angry or upset (which can result in strangers getting scared or angry and yelling at or hitting Color),

3. seeing an injured bird, being *filled with Kindness, and wanting to help but being unable to comprehend how to do that so he clumsily picks up the bird and ends up hurting it more which could also upset Ness into bursting into tears. (Which could potentially lead to Ness’ influence wavering enough for Color to think as himself and actually help the bird properly and hopefully cheer and calm down the child.)

And because they're six souls of various ages, their influence over Color can put him in various different mindsets of different ages. So he can be 4-5 thanks to Kindness, 12-13 thanks to Bravery, 17 thanks to Perseverance, maybe even any ageless sort of feeling thanks to Patience.

And thanks to his own experience with this, his experience with taking care of the kids when they’re nearby but aren’t taking him over so much, his old memories of taking care of Papyrus (so old they feel like decades ago), and his vague, blurry memories of Delta and Epic taking care of him when he’s like that, he’s equipped to help his friend.

Sans and Beta don’t exactly experience what Color and the souls do, as they are more often than not either completely separate or they’re Delta, and Delta tends to take Sans’ age and Beta’s bravery—but Delta also knows what it’s like to have a kid in your head.

I highly doubt he knows what’s going on with Killer, but he’d approach it through the lens of his experiences with Color—who he didn’t know was influenced by the souls for a very long time, because Color wasn’t even sure the souls’ voices and influence were real, not just figments of his lonely and guilt ridden imagination not wanting to be alone anymore, and was worried about being called “crazy” (not helped by the fact that Color very likely has experienced psychosis in the Void).

Epic most definitely took it in a stride, I feel. Making jokes and puns and quips. From what little I’ve seen of Epic, he seems to be an Uncle like figure to kiddos.

[topazshadowwolf]

fuzzynight hurt/comfort

I spent most of the day working on this because YES! Hurt/comfort?! I LOVE hurt/comfort! But you didn't hint as to who you wanted to be hurt, so... I DID BOTH! Two one-shots here. First, is Nightmare getting hurt and Lyra comforting him, and the second is the other way around... aaaaand hints of a major event that will occur in FuzzyNight Dadmare fics.

Nightmare Hurt/Lyra Comfort

“Night?”

Nightmare looked up from where he sat in the infirmary. Standing in the doorway was Lyra. There was so much concern in her garnet-colored eyes. He was about to reply, but it was then that Killer and Horror extracted one of Error’s bones from his shoulder, causing the Guardian of Negativity to flinch. It couldn’t do any lasting damage, and now that it was out of the way, the area was rapidly healing.

“… I heard what happened. Here, boys, why don’t you help Dust with Cross. I brought some wild berry pie that you all are to eat. Especially Cross, it will help heal him up,” Lyra instructed.

“thanks, lyra,” Horror replied.

“take good care of him, alright?” Killer said with a wink. He then grabbed Horror, and the two disappeared.

Lyra moved closer, and Nightmare remembered he had yet to say anything. “Thank you for your help. But his attacks don’t carry positivity to them. I will be fine.”

“That blaster burned away your arm and a tentacle,” Lyra replied.

“The key word is ‘will,’ I will recover,” Nightmare explained. Looking up at her from the chair he was in.

“Of course you will, because I will be helping you,” Lyra stated, her tone of voice hinting she won’t be told otherwise.

“I see,” he surrendered as her paws were placed on his shoulders. The comforting healing magic entered his body, cooling the burns Error’s blasters caused. He relaxed at that feeling and closed his socket.

“You look tired, Moonbeam,” Lyra said softly.

“Mmhmm, feel it too,” he admitted as his face warmed at her nickname. Her one of many nicknames.

“Then you need sleep, dear King,” she replied while placing a paw on his left cheekbone.

“I need to see to my boys,” Nightmare insisted, even as his face increased in warmth. He had learned his face takes a teal hue when his face feels like this. How embarrassing….

“You know I will tend to them, Nightstar,” Lyra did not let up. And that last name he was particularly weak against. It was the first she ever used and the moniker she spoke with such love and respect.

Nightmare was still confused about how these emotions he could detect her feeling for him did not disgust him. And why did he lean so much into her touch? “You win, Lyra,” he surrendered. “Using affection to get your way is unfair.”

“I will worry about the fairness of this when you are no longer missing limbs,” She replied as she picked him up, a feeling he was still unused to. His tendrils curled around her for added support as he leaned into her hold.

“I can walk. I still have both legs,” Nightmare said, looking up at her.

“I will be fine. I need to see to my boys. I can walk,” Lyra sighed and looked at him while holding Nightmare close. “Nightstar, you do so much. You have fought your way, alone, through the multiverse. You tend to your followers dutifully, more fatherly than intended. You secured yourself a place to live in. Build alliances among AUs that look to you and your men. Then it was you, alone, who called for peace between your brother and yourself. But you are not alone anymore. Your efforts have made you allies, your followers are your sons, and I am here to tend to you. So, please, Nightmare, allow yourself to be comforted. I know it means being vulnerable in front of someone, but that is not a bad thing. Not anymore. Now that you have us… you are safe.”

His tendrils decided for him, tightening his grip on her. “Alright, my love. I surrender,” he sighed, and she carried him over to one of the beds.

She then nuzzled his nasal bone, and he was surprised by the sudden act of affection. After covering him up with blankets, she sat down beside him and started to hum a tune. 

“Lyra?”

“Shush, I am singing you to sleep,” she said with a smile and a laugh. Once again, she placed her hand on the side of his face and petted his cheekbone with her thumb. As he turned into her touch, she started up her tune again.

… and soon he was asleep.

Lyra Hurt/Nightmare Comfort

His plan was working perfectly. Dust grinned to himself as he hid the bag of washed laundry behind some loose stones to retrieve later. He then placed the ones washed in an OuterTale laundry mat with their sparkly soap in the machine he emptied.

Horror and Cross will get it, but Killer, the victim of this prank, will jump to the most absurd conclusion. That a wormhole connected this washer to one in an OuterTale AU that sometimes abducts his clothes. Leaving sci-fi articles about wormholes where Killer could see them was some subconscious preparation for this prank.

Grinning away, Dust turned to leave when a portal appeared, and a figure stumbled through and collapsed. Here… in the laundry room. That figure was bleeding out.

Toriel…

What have I…

Toriel didn’t have black fur! Half of her body is black. Lyra, this is Lyra. “NIGHTMARE!” Dust yelled. 

Did he know he could yell that loud?

“dust was that,” Cross looked into the room, carrying his own basket. He must have been on the way in to do his own laundry. “the heck?! what happened?”

Cross dropped his basket and ran over to kneel by her. “lyra! hey, you with us?” Cross frowned, “she’s breathing but… dust! hey! focus!”

Wasn’t he focused? Oh, wait, he wasn’t talking… he hadn’t moved either.

A shadow entered the room next, and Nightmare formed from it. “Cross, attend to Dust.”

“yes, boss!” Cross said before jumping up and hurrying to Dust’s side.

“Lyra… what happened to you…,” Nightmare said quietly, and that was the last Dust heard before Cross shortcut them both away.

---

She was warm… almost too warm, really. With a groan, Lyra started to sit up, but her chest and abdomen hurt so much that she was forced to lie back down. Her head throbbed as the room spun for a moment from her efforts.

“You are awake,” A familiar voice said from beside her. Turning her head, she could see Nightmare sitting beside her. He closed the book in his hands and set it aside. “How are you feeling?” He asked, his eye light looking her over.

“What… what happened?” Lyra asked as she closed her eyes. “And I am too warm... can you take a blanket off?”

“I was hoping you could tell me. You showed up randomly in the laundry room, severely wounded,” Nightmare stated as he pulled off a blanket. In his attempt to take care of her, he must have forgotten she has her own permanent fur blanket. His left hand then moved to her head, and his phalanges moved over the fur of her forehead.

“Oh…, I am sorry. That must have,” she started but squeaked as Nightmare lightly tugged her ear.

“You are sorry? Sorry that you were bleeding out? Likely dying? You are apologizing to me for needing help?” He pressed, and she sighed.

“I meant to go somewhere else,” She explained.

“With better healers?” Nightmare asked. “We both know that, while I have improved my healing arts, they are still lacking.”

“Yeah…,” Lyra lied. That apparently earned her ear another soft tug.

“Do not forget I am an empath, and you are terrible at hiding your emotions when you lie,” Nightmare sighed. “So, you fled a fight, that I would still like to know about, and you intended to go where if not here?”

“... To my home,” Lyra said quietly. A feeling of sadness and resignation to her fate built up too strongly to hide.

“To your… why? You were far too injured to heal yourself?” His socket then narrowed, and his other hand moved to her own, gripping it tightly. He must have felt it. The despair she was feeling. “This is your home now. I don’t know where you lived before, but if you intended to go home, but your magic brought you here, this is your home!” He wasn’t yelling even if his voice was raised. He sounded desperate…

“I would not have died,” She reached her other hand over to touch his face to calm him. “Not to a wound like that.”

His socket narrowed, “Is that how you earned your other scars? By just curling up and waiting for your body to heal them?”

“It is a fate I earned,” she sighed.

Nightmare moved his hands away and sat back in his chair. His hands went to his head in a dramatic display of his frustration. “Why am I surrounded by people determined to punish themselves for things without consulting others?!” 

He sighed and leaned forward, holding his head while resting his elbows on the bed. “I do not care what you think you earned. I think we have established that we love each other. Now that I have felt your love for me, I will not be so easily parted from it. I am greedy, Lyra. That is what I am, Lyra, a greedy lover who wants your affection anytime you can supply it while floundering to figure out how to show my love for you.”

“Night,” She started, and he kissed her. She could feel the cool of his corrupted magic on her lips mingled with the sorrow he was feeling. He had never kissed her on the lips before. A flustered peck on the cheek, sure, but… this… 

Oh, the love… she could feel it now. His hands moved to both sides of her face as he wasn’t done. He intended to share his love for her, smothering any disagreement with his affection. And it was working as she hummed contently, negative thoughts discarded to be replaced with love.

Self-preservation through her need to breathe was thrown out the window of him taking her breath away. Not content to finish the kiss there, he stood for a better angle. Leaning over her, phalanges playing with her fur, ruffling it in the most enjoyable way. His magic danced with hers over her lips as he continued that kiss, pouring out his love for her. But eventually, she needed air; her body demanded it, so she had to pull away.

She gasped for air and then looked at him, about to speak when he shook his head. “I was not done speaking, my love. For as your greedy lover, I wish to know who you feel has the right to hurt you and why they have that right. I have the right to know that, not only as your love but as your friend and ally. You are one of mine. I value my things greatly. And I value those in my care even more.”

“Is that so?” She said, after having the time to catch her breath.

“It is,” he mused.

With a sigh, she closed her eyes. “I love you,” she sighed, “so I surrender. When I have regained my strength, I will explain.”

That seemed to please him, as his tendrils calmly wagged behind him as if they were happy tails. When was it that she found that so endearing? Or started to even understand the various movements they made. Reaching out, she touched one and encouraged it to curl around her hand and arm.

“I suppose you want me to stay nearby,” he chuckled as he looked at her.

“I would like another one of those kisses. So, yes, I do want you to stay nearby,” she smiled and then looked at him. 

Oh my! How cute-. Nightmare’s face was covered with that beautiful, flustered, teal blush. Gently she tugged on the tendril she had ensnared. “Come here, Moonbeam,” she purred, and he obeyed.

[dreamwritesimagines]

Twisted [Spencer Reid x Reader]

A.N.: So, here we go! 😁 Thank you so much for your wonderful support and lovely messages during my break my loves, they mean so much to me and ily! ❤ On my break, I binged a lot of shows, and Criminal Minds and Prodigal Son were two of them, but if you haven’t watched them don’t worry because it will not be following a specific canon plot😁❤Please let me know what you think and enjoy!❤

Warnings: Murder, drug use, serial killers, violence, manipulation

Summary: No one can choose their family.

If it were another time, you could’ve at least attempted to convince yourself how everyone had problematic childhoods. Focusing on something else usually worked, per the advices of countless psychiatrists your mother had forced you to go after the-

Incident.

Just the thought of it was more than enough to make your blood freeze in your veins, but you were soon snapped out of your thoughts when your phone started ringing. You checked the caller I.D, and heaved a sigh before you touched the screen.

“Hello?”

“Please tell me you’re not going there.” Your mother’s voice filled the car and you pressed your lips together.

“Hi mom.”

“Every time you go there and visit that man in that wretched prison cell of his, he manages to get into your head!”

“That’s not what’s going to happen,” you said, keeping your eyes on the road, “You have no reason to worry.”

“I have every reason to worry!” she snapped, “We promised that we wouldn’t let him worm his way into our lives.”

“Yeah well, FBI begs to differ,” you forced yourself to say, “You’ve seen the news—“

“I don’t want to hear this,” she cut you off, then heaved a sigh, “It’s terrible enough to hear it once, let alone twice.”

You never really had the luxury of ignoring all the terrible things on the news, especially after what had happened. Ever since you were a child, the nightmares wouldn’t leave you alone, and you weren’t as good as your mother at ignoring what was happening while you were awake.

“You could’ve said no.”

“I really couldn’t,” you mumbled and she clicked her tongue.

“Well then,” she said, trying to pull herself together, “I expect to see you at brunch, even your sister is coming. It won’t take long, will it?”

“It won’t take long to see my serial killer father and find out whether he is helping another serial killer even if he’s been behind bars for years?” you asked, “No mom. It shouldn’t take long.”

“Sarcasm will give you wrinkles.”

“Oh yeah, tragedy.”

“Call me as soon as you leave there,” she insisted, making you smile. “Promise me.”

“I promise,” you said as you pulled over in front of the building. Even the sight of it was enough to make your stomach flip and you felt the bile climbing up your throat.

You did not want to see him.

You had managed not to see him for years now, but now, the news were full of different coverage about a killer whose method of killing was very similar to him.

A flower left in the crime scene, every damn time.

Naturally, FBI wanted a word with the original killer. Less naturally, the original killer refused to speak unless he talked to his younger daughter, who happened to be you.

Unfortunately.

Yet, the sooner you walked in, the sooner you would walk out, and that was the only thing that offered any kind of consolation.

“God damn it,” you mumbled to yourself as you left your car, and made your way into the building. They patted you down, made you go through the x-ray and sign the papers before you entered the hall.

There were two men that weren’t in official prison guard clothes, which made you think these were the FBI agents you had talked to on the phone. For some reason, you hadn’t pictured them like this, but you didn’t know any agents so maybe this was the norm.

If it were any other time, you could’ve noticed how handsome they both were, but your mind was way too occupied.

“Ma’am,” the dark haired one stepped closer to you, “I’m Special Agent Luke Alvez, this is Dr. Spencer Reid.”

Even if Agent Alvez looked like the ideal FBI agent that was pulled out of an action movie, Dr. Reid looked more like a young, handsome professor, the ones that you dreamed would be at your university when you were still at high school.

Needless to say, that fantasy hadn’t come true much to your disappointment.

You shook your head, trying to focus.

“Y/N, it’s nice to meet you.” You shook hands with him, and smiled at Dr Reid, “Hello.”

“Thank you for coming.” His smile was soft, much like his gaze, “I imagine it’s not easy for you.”

You forced yourself to shrug, “Yeah it’s…” you trailed off and cleared your throat, “It’s fine.”

“So far we have seen five murders all over the country, in different areas but the crime scene has your father’s signature. It most likely means there are multiple copycat killers, and given your father’s past, he might be the mastermind behind it. He contacted us, but refuses to say anything unless he spoke to you.”

The goosebumps rising on your arms felt almost familiar.

“I haven’t been educated in any interrogation techniques.” You said, “And knowing him, he’s not just going to give that information to me.”

“People give information about a lot of things even when they don’t realize it.” Dr Reid said, “We will be outside, watching and listening.”

“I’ll talk to the guards to see if he’s ready, excuse me.” Alvez said and he walked away while you nibbled on your lip.

“How does a serial killer have this many privileges?” Reid asked you, “He has a private cell, books, TV…”

“Money,” you said slowly, “Money buys lawyers, lawyers buy freedom. Or the closest thing to freedom, given the circumstances. If you ask me, he should’ve been rotting in a hole but...” you trailed off, leaning back to the wall and took a deep breath, counting in your head.

“That’s a good exercise to calm down,” Reid said and your head shot up.

“What?”

“The 4 7 8 breathing exercise. I’m guessing a psychiatrist taught you that.”

“Several psychiatrists taught me that,” you stated, raising your brows, “You’re observant aren’t you professor?”

“Doctor.”

You clenched an unclenched your fists, your eyes darting around the hall,

“This is not helping,” you said as you exhaled a breath, “I need a cigarette, or twenty.”

“What do you do?” his question was so out of nowhere that you gawked at him for a moment.

“What?”

“What do you do?”

“I’m a— I’m a wedding planner.”

He tilted his head, “What’s that?”

“Well you…you know, you help the couples with color palettes, decoration, overall aesthetic, and during the wedding you make sure nothing goes wrong with the venue and the food and the music, all that. You make sure the wedding is perfect, basically.”

He hmmed, “How do I tell if a wedding is perfect? If we were talking sense wise?”

“Well first of all, in terms of looks, the colors need to complement each other,” you said, remembering your favorite events, “When you walk in, you see the garden and it’s well lit, but not too bright. In terms of touch, I guess you would make sure the table covers and such are soft to touch. The music should be slow at first, at least until it starts.”

“How about smell?”

“You can’t really go wrong with faint flower scents. Scented candles are a nice touch too.”

“The food?”

“Something light, most of the time. No one wants to get into a food coma at a wedding and you—“ you stopped as your eyes snapped up to his, a small smile playing at his lips.

He was making you list all the things that would ground you without making you realize you were doing it, so that you wouldn’t lose yourself in panic. It was yet another trick your psychiatrists had told you to do whenever you felt overwhelmed, talking about what you could see, hear, smell, touch and taste. By making you focus on a pleasant memory and remember all those, he was offering you a safe place in your own mind.

But contrary to any doctor, he didn’t make it obvious.

“Well played, professor.”

This time, he didn’t correct you,

“Grounding works most of the time,” he stated as Agent Alvez approached you, “I know this situation is less than ideal, but we will be right outside. You can walk out any time you want.”

“They’re ready.” Agent Alvez said and you nodded, trying to ignore the way your heart was slamming against your chest, then followed them to the door. Alvez opened the door for you, and you stepped inside, digging your fingernails into your palm.

His hair had more grays since you had last seen him, and his beard was longer, but that dangerous light in his eyes hadn’t changed. He looked up, a wide smile appearing on his face as his eyes searched yours.

“Sweetheart!” he said cheerfully, raising his hands a little so that you could see the chains attached to his handcuffs, “It’s been a while, wouldn’t you say?”

Pretending to be calm was something you had practiced so many times that your body knew automatically what to do. The door closed behind you and you swallowed thickly, making sure your face didn’t show any feelings. You slowly approached the table to pull yourself a chair, then put your phone on the table and started the countdown.

He wanted five minutes, and you would be damned if you stayed there a second longer.

“You look so much like your mother,” your father shook his head, “It’s uncanny, really.”

You gritted your teeth, still glaring at him.

“Not your eyes though,” he smiled, “You got your eyes from me. The window to the soul, hm?”

“My soul has nothing to do with you.” The words left your lips before you could stop them and he tut tutted.

“My petal-“

“Don’t call me that,” you cut him off, “I hate that nickname.”

That didn’t seem to break his enthusiasm though, much to your displeasure.

“Well, we should catch up,” he said , clapping his hands together, “Are you still with that young man from last year? He’d better be treating you well.”

You blinked a couple of times, “How did you-?”

“I have my sources too.”

“Your sources are slow then.” You stated, “We broke up months ago. Is that all? You brought me here to just talk about my personal life?”

“Why did you break up?”

“Are you really behind all these murders happening right now?” you asked back and he shot you a reprimanding look.

“None of that right now, petal. Business and family shouldn’t be merged, as you know.”

You felt like you would throw up, but managed to hold it together and stole a look at the countdown.

“Why did you break up?”

“Certain differences,” you said, cracking your fingers to distract yourself, and he leaned back.

“I get that,” he said, “If you’re different, you’re different. I always felt that with your mother—“

“Stop that.” You spat out, “Anything I do, including my relationships, it has nothing to do with you. I’m nothing like you.”

“Oh but you are,” he said, “It’s all in your eyes. In that deadly glare of yours. It’s there, isn’t it? That anger? Try to hide it as much as you want, it’s still burning you.”  

“There’s nothing burning me,” you said, “You’re fucked up, doesn’t mean I am too.”

“You know, there are many scientists that say murder is in the genes,” he stated, “So it would mean you’re contaminated too, no?”

The panic was pounding through your system, but you managed to keep your expression stable.

“Do you know why I didn’t ask your sister here? Or hell, your mother? Do you know why it is you?”

You stayed silent, your gaze focused on him.

“Your sister loved your mother, but you…. You were always such a daddy’s girl.”

“Wrong.”

“I don’t even think you cried for your mother whenever you scraped your knees, it was always me.”

“I didn’t know you were crazy when I was a child, guilty as charged. Doesn’t prove anything.”

“It does,” he said, “It proves more than you know. You are going to be my legacy.”

A cold shiver ran down your spine but you took a deep breath, resting your palms on the steel desk.

“No I won’t,” you said calmly, “Sorry to disappoint. I never killed anyone.”

Your father’s smile was almost as serene as your voice.

“Yet,” he pointed out, and you felt your throat tightening. “Ignore it if you want. It’s still there, petal.”

The beep of the phone made you snap out of it and you pushed your chair back, knocking it over in the process.

“Fuck you,” you said through your teeth as you gripped the door knob, “Have fun rotting in here.”

You swung the door open and stepped outside, still trying to catch your breath, and the door next to the interrogation room opened before Reid stepped into your vision. Your hands were still shaking and you desperately needed a cigarette and some fresh air.

But what you really needed was to get out of there.

“Y/N?”

“I hope you got whatever you guys needed,” you managed to say, wiping at your nose, “Because I’m never stepping a foot here, ever again.”

With that, you walked out of the hall, every cell in your body screaming at you to get away. You ignored the looks from the guards, tears blurring your vision and you left the building as fast as you could, as if someone was chasing you.

As if that could help you escape him.

Chapter 2

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