#DELTARUNE. (HEAD IN HANDS) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

emiplayzmc · 3 months ago

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...So here's that 2.5k+ word one-shot that I wrote in one afternoon + night

@turntableart it's the guys ever :3 And also @bigshot-furbiestm since you said you wouldn't be opposed to reading it in your RB last night :3

Also posted it on AO3 in case it's easier to read there :D

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"It's Not Too Late to Learn to be Alive Again"

Summary:

Two former and forgotten Addisons rummage around in an alley and end up staying for too long, hiding out in a dumpster from the cold rain.

AKA, I have brainrot about an Addison OC that me and Turn have been talking about and I am. Very much adding them to my list of blorbos.

Drip. Drop.

Tink. Splat.

The sound of tiny bits of acid rain hitting every surface of this block in Cyber City for the moment. Hopefully, it wouldn't get any worse than a light drizzle.

The dull-coloured Addison stands at the end of the alley, blankly staring up at the gridlines at the top of the world, watching the droplets fall down around and onto him. The acidity by itself couldn't clear the dust and grime on his dull, bluish-green casing, but he could feel and see the streaks trickling across it, making them slightly more metallic-looking again instead of the matte that he'd been reduced to.

Plink. Tap-tap. Clack.

He blinks as a drop of cold rain lands on the tip of his nose, scrunching his face briefly as he's brought out of the blank trance-like state he was in. He swivels his head around to look over his shoulder, watching as items get tossed out of trash bags within a green dumpster at random intervals, hitting the opposite wall of the alleyway with clatters, cracks, and occasional wet slaps - the least appealing of those sounds, in his opinion. He wonders when his companion will find something they deem suitable to sell or edible enough to use as a consumable. He emits a low hum and draws his coat a little closer to himself, looking back over the back alley wall to the thin strip of buildings between the city and the Cyber Fields beyond, an occasional red light blinking on the unfinished railway.

Pitter-patter, thup-thup.

…and it sounds like the rain is falling a little harder. That's wonderful. He steps off of the crate that he'd used to look over the back wall and approaches the dumpster, lurching back to let a slimy-looking something hit the wall before moving forward again and standing on the tips of his toes to peer in.

He can see the greased back, oily hair of his companion rummaging around in a trash bag, their gears clicking inside them as they mutter to themselves while deliberating over a bottle with its label torn off, containing MAYBE some kind of juice. Could also be motor oil, it's not easy to tell. The lid of the dumpster must be blocking the rain from hitting them. He reaches over the edge and taps the other on their shoulder, finding it the tiniest bit amusing when they startled and nearly dropped the bottle of whatever-it-was.

“WH 4T THE- AH, U!!! SOMETHING [Turn Left]?”

The gratingly loud, glitched voice of Spamton G. Spamton had become a small comfort to the other in the past few months. To others, it may have been hard to listen to for more than a few minutes, but to him it was familiar. It was safe. Friendly.

The corner of his mouth twists into a frown as he points upward before making a sweeping gesture to the alleyway now growing wet with puddles and slowly thickening curtains of acidic precipitation. Spamton pokes his head out of the garbage receptacle and immediately hisses when he feels rain hitting the top of his pompadour and face, causing the other to smirk lightly at the reaction.

“[$%#/] RA1N…” Spamton grumbles as he peers out, wiping the already accumulating rain away from his nearly opaque multicoloured glasses, “WE’LL LEAF [And It's Going Going] [Going] [Going] [Going]- …SO0N. JUST GOTTA F 1ND SOME GRUB!!!”

…He doesn't exactly know why they couldn't root through the garbage can of a bakery that's on the route back to Spamton's shop, but he hesitantly nods and pulls the back of his coat over his head to hide from the rain, leaning against the dumpster and listening to Spamton rifling through the garbage bags a little quicker.

…

The frigid acid rain drums and hisses against the roofs and the concrete in the alley, making muted green puddles around his feet and staining more of his cyan shoes. He shivers underneath his now-soaked coat, and Spamton still hasn't finished, likely getting too fixated on finding something edible to have noticed he's taking too long or that the rain has started pouring. He kicks the back of his foot against the dumpster hard, earning him a muted “1 SEC OND.” He grumbles and shivers again. He's cold and wet and he'd rather go back and miss eating instead of obsessing over finding something for too long. His internal heaters got busted and clogged long ago, he shouldn't be outside in this mess.

…

Screw it.

He turns around and yanks open the other lid on the dumpster, scrambling inside despite Spamton's startled noise and shutting both lids above them, pulling his legs up to his chest and shoving a gutted trash bag off to the side, huddling onto the side and flicking on the flashlights in his eyes.

“H 3Y!!!” Spamton protests, the lights in his eyes flickering on as well, both their sets of eyes shining dimly in the dumpster with light turquoise and pink-and-yellow light, “I’M ALM0ST [Done and Done!], Y'D U-”

His questioning dies off as he sees his dull greyish green-blue companion shivering in the corner of the dumpster, his legs pulled up to and hugging his chest and the soaking wet coat pulled tightly around him, even though it's likely making the shivering worse.

“...0 H. RITE…” Spamton wavered, remembering his friend's condition, “SHOULD H4VE [Leave while you still have the chance]...”

‘Idiot, he told you we should leave and you got hooked on something that could've been taken care of on the way back,’ he thinks to himself, berating. He can't keep doing that when he has this guy following him around with broken systems… if he's going to insist on trailing Spamton like a lost Tasque just because the White Addison found him shut down in the middle of the street unable to move and fixed him up as best that he could, he might as well make sure they're at least safe. Not that he's actually grown to care about the nameless Addison at all.

“...H3RE, I-” Spamton moves to kneel on his knees instead of squatting, looking through his corrupted inventory quickly to find the slot with his blanket, pulling it out of the 1s and 0s. He then reaches forward and attempts to snatch the wet coat off of the other, holding up a surrendering hand when they flinch and pull themselves back farther, confused.”

“U CANT [ Wear all of our latest styles at -] TH4T, YO U’LL [Freeze, criminal scum!],” he grunts out, holding out his hand as if to say ‘ hand it over .’ The other Addison hesitates for a minute, not wanting to give up his coat, but his fans ultimately emit a whirring sigh as he peels it off of himself, balling it up and handing it to Spamton before trying in vain to wipe the wet spots off his stained blue dress shirt underneath. Spamton tosses the coat into the corner, intending to dry it back at his shop (somehow) when the rain stops and they leave.

Spamton then takes their ratty - but still functional, with no holes or tears - grey blanket and drapes it over the dull Blue's legs, watching as their face morphs into one of surprise before gratefully (and somewhat covetously) pulling it farther over himself, gripping a small part of it to their chest.

‘It won't help much to heat him up, just block a little more cold,’ he muses…

His own internal heaters may not be the best, but they at least function better than the other's.

He shoves the trash bags next to the Addison farther to the side and crawls over to sit next to him, pushing himself close to the other’s body so they can share the heat. Surprised, the other tilts his head to the side, wondering why all of a sudden Spamton actually… WANTS to be close to him. Spamton notices the confused expression and scoffs - not in a mean way.

“U L0OK LIKE A- LIKE A- LIKE A- [[- looking like a kicked puppy and down on your luck? ]] SI TING TH3RE SHIV€RING, D0N’T [Expectations, expectations!] TH IS TO BE A REGULAR THING,” he grumbles lightly, gently pulling some of the blanket over himself before opening his inventory again and bringing out his tattered and yellowed pillow, plopping it behind his and the other's backs. May as well get comfy, they'll likely be here all night.

…

Bonk.

Spamton feels a light thud on his skull, and feels the other pressing even closer to Spamton's body, realizing that he's resting his head on top of Spamton, looking somewhat content for one of the few times since they've been around each other.

“...TH4T DIDN'T T AK LONG,” Spamton snorts amusedly. The other angles his eyes down at Spamton's face and gives a small smile, nuzzling into his head, which… most people probably wouldn't do, but at the moment, neither of them cared. Spamton liked feeling like he was needed at the moment, and the nameless Addison loved the warmth, both the literal and metaphorical kind, coming from his companion right now, relishing it.

Spamton sees the unlabelled bottle of liquid from earlier still resting unopened on a pile of trash, and he grabs it, swishing it around in the glass.

“EXP3RI MENTASHUN!!!” Spamton says gleefully, cracking open the bottle just to finally figure out what it is, “[Rock Bottom]’S UPP!!!” He tips his head back and pours some of the yellow liquid down his throat, clamping his jaw up and down as he tries to discern the… interesting… taste.

“H3RE,” he says, offering the bottle to the Blue, “DUNNO WH4T IT I S, BUTT ITS CONSUMABLE!!!” The other gingerly takes the bottle, eyeing the familiar curved glass of the bottle before taking a small sip… which he immediately regrets, since it burns the whole way down his throat and tastes like someone mixed toothpaste and rotten glass with alcohol that went wrong. He splutters whatever he can out of his mouth, his face twisted into a grimace.

…it does warm his insides, though. Probably because it's started eating away at vital fluids that have started leaking everywhere, based on the taste - though that may be a little overdramatic.

…and his reaction to it made Spamton cackle out a glitched and garbled, yet teasing laugh at his reaction.

“HAEHAEHA EHAEH- WH4T, DON'T LIKE THE N3W [Vile! Awful! Downright hideous!] TASTES OF TH E AUTUMN???” Spamton laughs, nudging the other in their torso lightly. The dull one flicks the arm of Spamton's glasses, sending them askew with a smile, now feeling a lot less miserable and a bit warmer than he was when he climbed into the dumpster, cuddled next to Spamton and his heaters. He even made him laugh. He hums softly and lightly bonks the marionette's long nose with the tip of their own nose, attempting to make him laugh again.

“H- H3Y, URE ACTing [Sugar and Spice and Everything Nice], U BUY A SH1NY NEW [ the spark that created life!! ] 0 R SOMTHIN???” Spamton asks, snickering as he reaches up and touches the other's cheek, watching them lean into it like they haven't had such a simple act of touch in decades.

Boop.

He touches their noses together again and nods up and down quickly, pointing a finger at Spamton, and then himself, before pointing at his face and grinning widely.

…Spamton gets the message loud and clear. Externally, his eyes roll [[HEAVEN ]]wards as if that was a cheesy thing to imply, but internally he's… Actually getting a little emotional. He hasn't made someone who he may or may not care about smile since… Well… not for a long time.

“[Gourmet Wheel of Brie] LINE 2 BUTT ER ME UP,” he says unconvincingly sarcastically, “BUT URE SM1LING FOR 1NCE, SO ILL [ What can I say except ‘you're welcome’? ]!!!” Spamton reaches his arm up from its position behind his head and claps the other on their shoulder a couple of times fondly.

“S0 GOOD L UCK GETTING Rid of me NOW, BCAUSE URE [Stuck in a ditch? Call-] WITH ME NOW, [Friend Request Accepted], SO I C4N KEEP THAT GR1N ON YO UR [Beutiful Head]!!!”

…what does it say about the other, when such garbled yet simple words of kindness were enough to nearly well his eyes with tears? For just the simple act of being with him to make him emotional?

“... th ank you,” he croaks out, the voicebox quality scratchy and sounding alien from disuse, resting his head on Spamton's again.

“D0NT MENTION IT, [Buddy Chum Pal Fr]- [[Stop the presses!!]]” Spamton halts mid-sentence as he snaps his head to fully look at the one sitting beside him, eyes wide behind his glasses as he stares into their blue-green eyes - does he daresay he saw some sort of sparkle in there? “D ID- DID U JUST [Everybody's raving about our new-]???”

He nods, his small smile stretching a little as he moves his head down to bump his forehead to Spamton's again.

Spamton's face, in return, breaks out into an ear-to-ear, genuine grin as he bumps foreheads back, ecstatic to hear him speak for what may well be the first time since they met.

“I'LL [ -chugalug, chugalug ] 2 TH AT!!!!” Spamton cheers, holding up the still-open bottle of vile fluid and taking a large swig… oh what the Hell? Just this once he'll try to like it… The other grabs the bottle and takes a drink from it as well, nearly gagging but managing to keep it down for a few moments before breaking into silent, body-shaking laughter at the fact they just willingly drank that again.

He wonders what he would do - if Trademark License Addison saw his abhorrent alcohol - unfit for a ViroViroKun, the very same that he detested for taking the place of nearly every cheap but decent gas station brand in the store, the very same drink that he expelled from his body into the bathroom sink - in stores a few years ago now being consumed by his future self in a dumpster while giggling over the smallest of things and sharing heat with the former Big Shot himself.

When the entire bottle is drained, Trademark and Spamton lean back against the pillows, the former listening to the drumming of rain on the dumpster lid above them, and to the White Addison yammering on and on about some convoluted make-it-big-again scheme with a tired and tranquil look on his face, until he eventually falls asleep, his head now drooped onto Spamton's shoulder and his arm draped across his torso, gripping him tightly to keep the warmth close to him. When he finally does notice that the dull, yet so, so bright Blue Addison whom he doesn't even know the name of, has fallen asleep nuzzling him, he feels… content. Happy, even. His own arm gently holds Trademark close to himself, as well.

Spamton likes feeling wanted. Feeling needed. By someone, for once in years.

…

They could both get used to expecting this to be a regular thing.

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#deltarune #addisons #spamton #my writing #oh i am so normal about them. holding them gently in my hands.#what if I said I already had another oneshot idea in my head for them. what if. what has HAPPENED to me how did these two make me WRITE #spamton x oc #addison oc #deltarune addisons #fanfiction #oneshot

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