#I should have at least given Sans a little skull cut. I know he must be somewhat rusty after 8 years

[golden-explosions-main]

*there’s a THUD from the closet, when…

❤️- *The alternate version of frisk— the angsty stabby 14 year old one from before— lunges out at sans with a knife gripped tightly in their hand. For the record, they did mean to leave when they teleported away. That being said, their magic is a bit… finicky. As in they duck at using it*

=)

*they lunge at the skeleton with incredible speeds and murderous intent*

Sans raises his hand fast enough and fortunately manages to hold them in place, saving himself from what would have been a fatal strike.

Without any hesitation, Flowey grabs firmly onto their wrist with the strength of his potbot, knowing Frisk of any kind has enough Determination to easily break free.

Flowey: "HEY!!!! I have no idea what happened between you and your Sans, I have a terrible history with mine too, and I still don't entirely like him,"

Sans: "wow, kid you-,"

Flowey: "Shut up for a second, Trashbag!!"

Flowey then grabs onto the knife, with the potbot struggling some to pull it out of Frisk's hand, very much cutting through his glove in the process.

Flowey: "Whatever happened, whatever you did, even if it's for fun or revenge, it's not happening here! NOT in this timeline!!"

Flowey gives one big tug and successfully pulls it from Frisk's hand.

Sans: "interesting, you really are nothing like our frisk,"

Flowey: "Don't COMPARE them!! Are you trying to make them want to kill you more?"

Sans: "no, of course not, but i'm not scared of them either, i've been keeping an eye on things; your cam needs more work on it by the way,"

Flowey, sarcastic: "No, really?"

[mortimer-writes-sometimes]

Sorry if this is indecent but, do you only write fluffy or do you also write spice stuff? Because I have a Sansby request of "making dinner becames a fun night"

I have mixed feelings about this, actually, but not for the reasons you may think!

See, I am asexual. I’m not sex-repulsed, but I don’t understand the appeal of being with another person in that way. However! When it comes to writing, I appreciate its potential as a plot device and I know it is something people like to read for a variety of reasons. I have read sex scenes before just so I don’t miss anything reading through interesting fanfiction and I know how to build up to and imply arousal. However, I have a feeling that I would be really bad at writing the actual sex part, because again... I don’t get it. I pride myself on my ability to portray emotion, but I don’t think I have that level of skill.

Also, just in case I can do it, I don’t want to accidentally end up known for smut fics. I like stories better. So, y’know. Not gonna attempt it, just in case.

That being said, I would loath to leave a reader entirely disappointed, so I have elected to write another take on the prompt you’ve given me! I know you were looking for spice and not fluff, but I hope you enjoy this anyway.

Cooking 101

Word count: 1109

“Cut the stalk into strips, but don’t cut all the way down to the joint. That will help keep the celery stable as you cut.”

Grillby smiled gently as he stood behind Sans, reaching around him to guide his hands. He’d been surprised when the skeleton insisted on helping him cook dinner. As far as he was aware, Sans wasn’t much of a cook. The fire monster had a sneaking suspicion that the sudden desire to learn had something to do with that morning’s little accident. Grillby wore gloves when working with wet ingredients, but while he’d been making breakfast he dropped the bottle of vanilla into the pancake batter. It splattered everywhere, and seeing as it had yet to be infused with magic, it left several dark marks on Grillby’s arms where the flames were partially put out. Sans had been quick to heal him, but it left the skeleton ‘rattled’. When the fire monster had suggested chicken and dumplings for dinner Sans had been quick to suggest that he handle the wet ingredients until they’d been properly treated with magic that would protect Grillby from any ill effects.

That’s how Grillby found himself leaning gently against Sans, wrapping his arms around the skeleton’s waist as he let him finish the dicing on his own. “That’s perfect. We can set that aside for now.”

Sans grinned at the praise, leaning back into Grillby’s arms. Between the warmth at his back and the warmth in his soul, he was once again reminded that marrying this man was the best decision he’d ever made. “Hey, firefly? This is really nice,” he mumbled.

“I agree,” Grillby chuckled, kissing Sans’s cheekbone, “But I’m afraid I can’t hold you up and get a bowl from the cabinet at the same time. Sit up for just a moment.”

Sans whined, but complied, shifting his weight back on his own two feet. “So, what’s next?”

“Dry ingredients.” Grillby set a bowl and an assortment of measuring cups in front of Sans as he moved things around with organized ease. “That’s strange… I could have sworn I laid out the thyme.”

“Don’t worry, I got it.” Sans glanced at the microwave display. “Clock says it’s six thirty-eight. Lemme guess, we gotta wait until the moon is high to start our witch’s brew?”

Grillby rolled his eyes, setting a container of flour in front of Sans. “Haha, very funny. Go ahead and measure out two cups of flour while I find it.”

Simple enough task, right? At least, if you’re familiar with cooking. Sans wasn’t working with a very large bowl, so it would make sense to add a leveled half-cup of flour to the bowl at a time. Unfortunately, Sans was not familiar with cooking.

Poof!

Grillby turned around to find both Sans and his workstation dusted in a light coating of flour. The skeleton had taken a heaping cup of flour and dumped it all in the bowl at once, sending a cloud of white powder everywhere. He coughed and shook his head, trying to get the flour out of his eye sockets. When he looked up at Grillby, his expression was so bemused that the fire monster couldn’t help but laugh.

“Oh my god, Sans,” Grillby managed through his laughter, “You’re an absolute mess.”

Sans gave him a mischievous grin. “Oh yeah?” He picked up the measuring cup again with clear intent.

Grillby realized what was happening a moment too late. He barely had time to shield his face with his arms before Sans had thrown a cup of flour at him, the nutty scent of lightly cooked flour filling the kitchen as it covered him. “Sans-!” He gave his husband a playful smile. “Oh, you’re going to regret that.”

Sans knew that look. He took off running, getting a few seconds head start while Grillby grabbed the flour container. The fire monster gave chase, jumping over the couch in his pursuit. He managed to nearly catch up, throwing a handful of flour at Sans. Sans changed direction and caught him off guard, grabbing a handful of flour from the container in Grillby’s hand and throwing it over the fire monster’s head before taking off again.

Sans made a mistake when he let Grillby chase him up the stairs. Grillby intentionally let Sans run past him into the living room. When he was in just the right spot, the fire monster dumped the entire container of flour over the banister, engulfing half the room in a white cloud. Sans took the brunt of the impact, playfully crying out as he was practically drowned in flour. Grillby laughed, leaning over the banister. “I believe I win.”

“Yeah, yeah, I surrender,” Sans conceded, taking off his hoodie and trying to shake out some of the flour that had accumulated there. “So, pizza tonight?”

“That sounds perfect.” Grillby came down the stairs, giving Sans a fond smile. “Perhaps we should clean up a bit, first.”

“I’ll sweep, you vacuum?” Sans proposed. “And of course, the first shower goes to the victor.”

Grillby arched an eyebrow at him. “Sans, we use separate showers. Unless you’re implying that you want to try bathing in fire, in which case I must strongly discourage it.”

Sans chuckled. “Nah, I’m just looking for an excuse to be the one to order the pizza so I can annoy the delivery guy.”

“You’re incorrigible,” Grillby mumbled, rolling his eyes.

Sans looked up at him with a cheeky grin. “Aww, you know you love me.”

Grillby’s smile softened at that. If someone had told him three years ago that he would be chasing his favorite customer around the house with a container of flour, laughing and leaping over furniture, he would have just rolled his eyes. It had seemed like an impossible, silly fantasy. Yet, there he was, clothing white with powder as he gazed lovingly into his husband’s eyes. The fire monster leaned down and kissed the top of Sans’s skull, unable to wipe the smile from his face even if he tried. “I do love you, Sans,” he said softly. “I really do. I wouldn’t trade evenings like this for anything.”

Sans flustered a bit. “Yeah. I know how you feel.” A warmth settled in Sans’s chest as the mirth faded. He smiled up at his husband, putting his hands on his shoulders. “By the way, Grillbz?”

“Yes?”

“I cannot take you seriously with that much flour on your glasses.”

The monsters’ combined laughter filled the house as Grillby wrapped his arms around Sans, letting the skeleton lean against him once more. 

Yeah. Neither of them would trade that moment for the world.

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed this little bit of domestic fluff. If you liked it, consider reblogging and/or leaving me a comment telling me your favorite part! Also, if you’d like to be added to my tag list, let me know!

[blitzturtles]

Title: Two-Player

Rating: Teen and Up

Fandom: JoJo's Bizarre Adventure: Stardust Crusaders

Pairing(s): JotaKak, JoKa, Minor (and Platonic) Kakyoin & kid!Jolyne

Summary: There are days when Jotaro’s body remembers every single injury that it's ever received. Days when he aches from his toes to the top of his skull, and days when his nerves light themselves on fire. Medication won’t touch it, and the pain is either too grating or too unpredictable for him to ignore for any length of time.

He tries to break it down into pieces. To compartmentalize it all away the way he does with the memories.

Notes: I was having a chronic pain flare, asked my wife who I should inflict it on, and her answer was, "Jotaro and/or Dick Grayson". So here's the Jotaro version. Btw, I'm doing a writing / fic giveaway! Check out this post to see how to enter. Goes until 8.25.21!

-

There are days when Jotaro’s body remembers every single injury that it's ever received. Days when he aches from his toes to the top of his skull, and days when his nerves light themselves on fire. Medication won’t touch it, and the pain is either too grating or too unpredictable for him to ignore for any length of time.

He tries to break it down into pieces. To compartmentalize it all away the way he does with the memories. It’s all he can do in moments like these, when he’s hunched forward and breathing too heavy. Biting at his lip in a desperate attempt to keep from making a sound, lest Kakyoin or Jolyne choose that exact moment to barge in.

There’s the throbbing in his ankles and knees; both of which twinge with an excruciatingly sharp agony whenever he tries to stand from his desk. If he falters in the slightest, he’ll have his hips to contend with, and they’ll bring him to his knees for daring to exist. Best to stay put until he can no longer take the stillness that builds in the damaged joints, not that walking seems to alleviate the radiating pounding that blossoms in each joint and spreads endlessly outward. The more he thinks about it, the wider the radius grows, the harder it is to control his breathing.

Speaking of, his ribs burn from inflammation, and every breath is like inhaling fire, deeper and deeper until he’s choking on the exhale. The coughing that follows makes his guts twist up. Knotting around an invisible blade and splitting apart until he smells more than tastes the scent of blood and bile rising in the back of his throat.

The pain running through his nerves is a mixture of fire blight and an intense, piercing sensation that he’s yet to fully find the words for. There’s a reverberating ache to each stab. A constant and endless reminder that makes it impossible for him to sooth with the fingers he digs into the meat of his arms and legs. He can only stand to do that for so long, anyway. His wrists cramp after a few seconds. Already fatigued from writing. Working always makes the tendons tighten until they feel like they’re going to snap.

For whatever reason, his head feels the need to join in on the fun. Possibly because he’s already tense everywhere else. Possibly because it’s just that kind of day. Either way, he can’t ignore the ache there anymore than he can anywhere else, and it’s significantly slowed down his progress for the day. He’s done little more than stare at the papers on his desk with a blank expression for what must be hours now. The words blur together so badly that the ink almost disappears from his vision, which is a welcomed relief to the burning of his eyes.

He’s so overwhelmed by it all that he doesn’t hear Kakyoin. Kakyoin who he doesn’t ever tell, because Jotaro would rather grit his teeth and force his way through the day than tell his husband, of all people, that he hurts. As if Kakyoin doesn’t know a truer, more hellish agony in his every waking moment.

“Jotaro?”

His own name being called is what finally breaks him out of his pity party, and the look on Kakyoin’s face tells Jotaro that it’s been said more than once. There’s worry etched in the crease of Kakyoin’s forehead and in the way his lips are turned downward. Kakyoin would be crouched at eye level with him if he could, but his own body is hardly partial to that sort of movement.

“Sorry, what did you say?” Jotaro grits the words out and resists the urge to wince at the sound of his own voice. He doesn’t think he’s spoken at all today, but it still somehow sounds like he’s been chewing on glass.

Kakyoin’s frown deepens, “Jolyne was asking about- actually, it’s not that important. Are you alright?” He knows the answer already, but Kakyoin is nothing if not calculating. He wants to hear Jotaro speak. Wants to hear his reply. He’s trying to gauge how bad the situation is without expecting a proper, direct answer. He knows Jotaro too well for the man to be able to lie.

“Been better,” Jotaro admits, and he knows it’s an admission of just how poorly he feels. For him to fail to write Kakyoin off means that he’s struggling beyond what he can handle.

“I see,” Kakyoin says the words tightly. He seems to roll a thought over in his mind before sighing. “I think that you should lie down for a bit. I’ll get some painkillers. When’s the last time you had any?”

“I-” Jotaro mirrors the frown on Kakyoin’s face as he glances at the clock. Too long, he doesn’t say, but he doesn’t have to.

“Chasing pain won’t get you anywhere,” Kakyoin says, but his tone is far from patronizing. He speaks from experience. It’s better to try to stay in front of the brunt of their agony. They don’t stand much of a chance otherwise, not that Jotaro thought he’d had one since the moment he woke up that morning.

“Jolyne-” He starts, as a last ditch effort to get out of being mothered by his own husband, but he’s not surprised when Kakyoin shrugs him off.

“I’ll take care of Jolyne.” Kakyoin pauses, “And I can draw you a bath, if you’d like. The heat might help.” He would know, given his own chronic pain. He can’t take hot baths, given the sensitive nature of the reconstructed bits that make up his midsection, but he regularly soaks individual limbs when nothing else is working.

“I- yeah, okay,” Jotaro has to admit that the idea sounds nice. Maybe submerging the deep aches will help sooth them away, if only a little bit. Perhaps enough to make lying down more bearable, because that’s his problem with the idea of getting into bed: it’s going to hurt. He’ll hurt here or there, which is why he continues to insist on sitting at his desk on days like this. What’s the point in wasting time if he’s going to be miserable no matter where he is, or what he does? He might as well at least try to be productive.

“Good,” Kakyoin smiles gently, “Give me about five minutes before you come up? I’ll get that started and take care of Jolyne.”

“Sounds like a deal,” it doesn’t, actually. Kakyoin’s getting the short end of the stick all the way around. What with having to take care of Jotaro and Jolyne while dealing with his own pain.

“And quit that,” Kakyoin grumbles. He pokes Jotaro between the eyes, right on the bridge of his nose. “I married you, Jotaro. I don’t mind taking care of you or Jolyne, and I'm not inept for being a borderline cyborg.”

“I know,” Jotaro says with a sigh, “I don’t- I didn’t mean-” He hadn’t said anything, but that’s the problem with Kakyoin: he’s intuitive in a way that no one else Jotaro knows has ever been, and he can practically read Jotaro’s mind when he chooses.

“I know,” Kakyoin echoes, cutting Jotaro off before he can dig himself any deeper. His smile returns, and he leans down enough to press a kiss to the top of Jotaro’s forehead, only a short distance above where he had touched Jotaro a moment before. “Sometimes I just think you need a reminder. We’re equal, and you can have chronic pain, too.”

“Sounds fake,” Jotaro mumbles, but there’s a faint, upward pull of his lips that has Kakyoin barking out a laugh.

“Sure it does. Five minutes, JoJo.”

“Five minutes,” Jotaro repeats, already planning on it taking about that long just to get himself to the door to his study. His joints are already threatening to drop him if he so much as thinks about moving too quickly.

He watches Kakyoin go with fond eyes, and it takes approximately sixty seconds before he realizes that there had been a moment of relief. Where his brain had been too busy to be solely wrapped in his own suffering. Perhaps he’ll suggest that they all turn in early. There’s a new Disney movie that Jolyne’s been dying to see, and he knows she won’t mind being still too terribly if she gets to have the two of them in one room, sans work.

[ask-bloodmaw]

Being Adopted

this is the start of this blog. For the most part it’s just gonna be questions and asks but this short story is to get the ball rolling. for a tldr: Edge aka underfell papyrus was visiting Blue aka underswap sans when a underfelly, demony looking bitty slapped into his face. he was dared to raise it for at least 2 days and after taking it home and feeding it, he gave it a tumblr ask blog to occupy itself with.

edit: there was an issue with some of the text from the bottom ending up on top, so i fixed that

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“It’s because you just can’t stay away from me!” Blue said cheerfully as he placed a plate of tacos on the table.

“I came because I was forced to take a day off for your information! Your invitation just happened to be for the same date.” Edge crossed his arms. He wasn’t going to admit to Blue he was glad he was allowed a day off. Working in the guard in Underfell was perfectly fine, but ever since his brother Sans, now Red, had fixed that machine in the basement and they knew of other universes… well it was nice for a change of pace.

Speaking of his brother… “Yeah sure Boss, as if you weren’t hoping for a day off.” 

“But Undyne was none too happy. If it weren’t in the job contract that I be given one day off each month, I would not be here right now.”

“Well,” Blue spoke to cut the tension that was starting to form. “No matter what the reason, I’m glad you’re here!”

“How long until Sci shows up?” Red piped up. To the side Edge rolled his eyes. Of course his brother would be asking after his scientifically inclined counterpart. There were times where the idea of his brother getting together with another version of himself did not agree well in his mind, but Edge supposed it with the fact that they were from different universes the other Sans was more or less a different person.

Sighing, Edge picked up a taco. They were normally too mild for his tastes, so he added a little bit of salsa from a nearby bowl. He let a small smile appear on his face for just a moment. This wasn’t his first time in Blue’s house. The first time there had been no salsa, but it ‘just so happened’ the next time the innocent counterpart of his brother had some ‘leftover’ salsa when Edge next visited. The same with the following visit. Reports from Sans showed that the salsa was only there on the days he managed to visit an-

SMACK

Edge whirled around, summoning two sharp bones. Whoever hit him was going to pay. Just because he was in a more relaxed environment didn’t mean he wouldn’t fight. “SHOW YOURSELF!”

Everyone was focused on Edge now, surprised by his sudden actions. Well except for Classic. The Tale version of his brother was lying on a nearby couch and was instead looking near Edge’s boots. “Just some weird toy. Maybe Honey was screwing around again.”

Edge reluctantly made his attacks disappear. Honey, Blue’s brother, has always been rather scientifically inclined himself due to his friendship with his world’s Undyne. Edge supposed he should return this thing to his lazy counterpart, so picking it up he… dropped it as it bit him.

“What the f-”   “Swear jar!”   “I didn’t even get to say it Blue!” Edge yelled, still looking at the thing. The small and breathing thing. This wasn’t a toy or machine. It was alive. He tried picking it up again now more prepared. The thing bit him once more, but since he expected the pain, he didn’t drop it. Looking closely, Edge could see it was a skeletal being. It was just… the size of a small bird. But there were horns on its skull and it had a tail which didn’t quite look skeletal. It was more magical based. It also seemed to be dressed in a rag of sorts.

The guard winced as the thing bit in a more sensitive place on his hand. He did his best not to fling whatever this was across the room. That was when Blue came over and managed to pry it off of him. “Aww! It’s so cute! Ow! Though it really likes biting and hissing.” 

Indeed, when Blue had taken the creature, it had kept biting but was now also hissing at him. “Maybe it just don’t like ya.” Red suggested. “It wasn’t hissing at th’ boss.”

“But it was still biting me.” Edge added on to his brother’s comment. He did not want this creature to become fond of him. He didn’t even live here. And this thing was so small, it would be killed within a week. Within the day if his cat got to it.

“But it wasn’t hissing too!” Blue repeated Red’s statement. “So it must like you most! Look! It’s even got red eyelights! Just like from a fell universe! Or maybe it’s a bitty! Or maybe both!”

Edge didn’t bother following along. He knew Blue knew the multiverse that they lived in much better than most. “Either way. What are you suggesting? That I keep it? You know I can’t do that with my universe.”

“Ya saying you can’t keep it alive?” The Sans on the couch questioned.

Again, Edge rolled his eyes. “I likely could, but it would only be a matter of time before-”

“Twenty G.”

Everyone was silent for a few seconds before Edge spoke up. “Do you mean twenty gold? Why?”

“That’s how much I’m betting you can’t keep it alive for two days.”

Red and Blue looked between Edge and Classic. Edge only took bets he knew he would win, but the way Classic had posed it… If Edge took the bet, he had to win. If he didn’t, it was just as bad as losing it.

“Look, if it’s a bitty, Blue can figure out what he needs for it, but it would take up his time. Since it seems to like you better, it stays with you for a day or two while he sets up. After that, you hand it off ta Blue and only have to see it again those rare times you visit.”

Edge supposed Classic was right. And while he wouldn’t admit it, he did have a soft spot for weaker beings with a certain edge, like a cat, or whatever this thing, likely apparently a bitty, was.

“Fine. I will keep them alive for two days. It surely is not hard. The only thing necessary is to separate it and Doomfanger.”

With that, Edge got up to leave, knowing he would need to use some of his free time to set up the house. That, and the sooner he started taking care of this thing, the sooner he would be done. Red didn’t follow behind, which was perfectly fine. It was better his brother wasn’t in the way.

The bitty kept biting at his hand, though not as hard as before. If it was from a fell universe similar to Edge, then likely this was just the only way it could attack. And seeing as how Edge had yet to kill it, it was giving the slightest sliver of trust to him. That, or it was just getting tired.

The tall skeleton swore when the bitty bit him harder when it was jostled a bit from Edge getting the portal machine he had to get home. It was the newest design which currently only he, his brother and Blue had been given, seeing as how Blue needed it most, Edge was Red’s brother and Red was dating the one who made it.

Edge closed the portal the moment he had stepped through into his house. Even if being inside his home was safe from the underground outside the door, he could never be too cautious. Edge looked around, making sure he really was alone and checking all the curtains were drawn before calling for his cat. The gray animal raced out from wherever she had been hiding and ended up at Edge’s feet, rubbing against his ankles and looking for a treat.

Edge bent down, earning another bite from the bitty as he used his other hand to pet his cat. The skeleton then walked to the kitchen and placed the bitty on the counter, freeing his hands to open the cupboard and pull out a bag of cat treats, which he opened and pulled out two to give to Doomfanger. 

The skeleton also pulled out a third and placed it in front of the bitty. Admittedly Edge realized he should have asked Blue what these things eat, but if it didn’t like the treat, other food would be easy enough to give the thing. Even if they couldn’t get as much food as their non fellverse counterparts, Edge had a well paying job to afford plenty, and it wasn’t as if this tiny thing could eat them out of house and home.

The bitty looked down at Doomfanger eating the treats and seemed surprised when one was placed in front of it. It picked the treat up which was a decent size when held in it’s tiny hands. It took a big bite out of the treat, and while it wasn’t the best tasting thing in the world, it was still food. The bitty then stuffed the rest in its mouth before chewing, being careful not to choke. Once it had swallowed, it looked up to the skeleton looking down on it and fluttered its little bone wings under the rag it wore. It held up its hands briefly, hoping for something more before putting them back down. Likely that was all it would be given.

Edge was glad to see that the bitty was okay with the cat treat, especially when it seemed to want more. He wasn’t going to only feed it with those, so he instead decided to let it try some pieces of cat food kibble. It seemed the bitty was also pleased with those and was surprised by the new type of food.

Edge let it eat as he picked up Doomfanger and carried her up to his room. He set her on his bed before quickly leaving the room and closing the door behind her. He could hear Doomfanger mewling to be let back out when he started down the stairs, but Edge didn’t want to deal with watching both the bitty and his cat at the same time when he was still learning how to care for the former of the two. 

When Edge returned to the kitchen, he found the bitty crawling around the counter. Or maybe not crawling as it seemed to be actually walking on all four limbs. He stood in the doorway, watching it for a few moments before it noticed him and sat back down. 

“Well, it seems you found the food edible at the very least since you seem to have eaten it all save for a few crumbs.” Edge spoke to the bitty. He wasn’t sure if it understood him since it seemed to droop slightly at his words. He wasn’t sure if it was just because of his inflection or if it could only understand his tone of voice. Edge sighed and picked the bitty up and went over to the living room, setting it on the couch. He quickly picked it back up when it decided to claw at the fabric. “Don’t! The only part I allow to be torn up is the legs and that is because I can’t convince my cat to use the scratching post.”

The bitty seemed to understand and just sat on the couch this time, watching Edge. He looked away for a moment to pull out his phone and when he looked back, the bitty was gone. He jumped up trying to figure out where it could have gone when there was a scratching noise. Edge looked down towards the noise and saw the bitty clawing at the feet of the couch. “It seems that you can understand me.”

The bitty looked up at Edge again before going back to clawing the already clawed up piece of wood. Then it looked back up, eyes focused on Edge’s phone. The skeleton took a moment to figure out what the bitty was so focused on, but when he did, he rolled his eyes. “As long as you don’t destroy this, I will allow you to mess with this and occupy yourself.” 

Edge set the phone on the ground before quickly grabbing the old sock Red left lying around and rolling it up to place behind the phone, propping it up for the bitty.

It walked over to the phone before sitting in front of it. It tested out the screen with one of it’s tiny hands, surprised when the screen reacted once its palm was touching. It managed to open up the camera, confused by the image of the wall behind it which was being captured. 

Edge sighed and picked up the phone again and unlocked it. “It’s probably easier if I set things up for you. Hmm… Are you able to type?” He asked before setting the phone back down on the notes app with the keyboard up. Quickly, the bitty pressed three keys: ‘yes’. “Well I guess there’s one think. I know Blue set something up for me when I first learned of the other universes, so it may be useful for you.”

After a few minutes, the phone was placed back down in front of the bitty. It looked at the mostly white screen with an orange pattern taking up the top third and a circle between the two parts with a diamond shaped icon. “A dumbed down version should be enough for you to understand. I’ve set up a place where people are able to message you and you will be able to respond. I don’t care what you do with that otherwise. If you ever need help just come to me. For now, I will be making some food for myself.”

As Edge walked away, the bitty looked towards him, and though it was too quiet to be heard, it still said “thanks.”

[nom-the-skel]

Blue Wolf, Red Bunny

1.8k words, soft safe vore, unwilling prey

The wolf was beautiful, his bones smooth and fur glossy, not battered and ragged like Sans. He might have looked soft, not showing any obvious signs of having survived any battles, but his size and relaxed confidence made it seem like he might just never have encountered a monster that could injure him. Sans had never seen anything like him. He must have been as big as Asgore.

Sans froze instinctually, waiting for his chance to dart into the bush. The wolf was looking around, taking in the scenery at his leisure, but Sans’s red fur stood out against the snow and he zeroed in on the bunny after only a moment.

Sans stayed frozen.

“hey,” said the wolf, his voice not unfriendly. Sans wasn’t surprised. Such a strong monster could afford to be friendly, especially to a little bunny like him.

Sans gathered his magic to teleport away if the wolf went for him, but he didn’t have the chance. Before he could react, the wolf had somehow closed the distance and reached down to put a skeletal hand on Sans’s shoulder. The gesture was ostensibly friendly but it effectively prevented him from escaping.

“you look like a sans, am i right?” the wolf said. Sans just stared, but the wolf must have inferred he was surprised the wolf knew his name. He chuckled deeply. “you can call me blue then. and i’m gonna call you red.” The names were fitting enough; the wolf had a blue jacket to match his blue fur.

“okay,” sans managed to squeak, because the wolf was looking at him expectantly.

Blue let his hand slide down Sans’s arm and took his hand, giving it a little shake. “nice to meet ya, red.” He didn’t let go, kneeling in the snow and holding onto Sans’s hand, his grin relaxed and amiable.

At length Sans asked, “what’re you gonna do with me?” He immediately flinched. He’d given too much away, made it obvious how superior the wolf’s position was.

“relax, bunny. ain’t gonna hurt ya,” the wolf answered breezily, tightening his grip on Sans’s arm and pulling him forward. Sans stumbled into his arms and Blue stood up, pressing the bunny against his chest. Sans tried to push himself away but the wolf’s arms were like steel beams, immobile. He braced his feet against the wolf’s soft belly but Blue was only amused. Easily holding the bunny in place, he stroked Sans’s skull and ears, then moved to his tail. “you’re such a cute little bunny.”

Sans hissed, more insulted than afraid for a moment. “you take that back.”

“never. you’re adorable.” He pressed his big blue tongue against Sans’s face and suddenly Sans didn’t care if the wolf thought he was adorable, so long as he didn’t think Sans was tasty. He didn’t even care if he had saliva in his eye socket.

When the wolf’s tongue had slid up past his ears and retreated, Sans turned his skull to look up at the wolf. “too...too cute to eat, right?” he asked, the quaver in his voice belying his attempted flippancy. It wasn’t a smart move, putting his fear into words himself before the wolf even brought it up. Why was it so different when Blue licked him than, say, Lesser Dog? He’d been licked by canine monsters plenty of times but he’d never lost his wits like this. Then again, he’d never been quite this helpless before.

Blue regarded him, something twinkling in his eye lights—affection, for a monster he’d just met? Amusement? “i wouldn’t say that,” he answered, and Sans felt his soul drop to the pit of his stomach.

He felt faint, losing track of time for a moment, but the warm, soft but firm pressure of Blue’s tongue on his skull again drew him back to his senses. He squirmed futilely in the wolf’s grip, weighing his pride against the option of begging for mercy.

At first Blue was content to lick the bunny as if grooming him. It would have been infantilizing but not terribly sinister, if Sans hadn’t already brought the idea of eating him out into the open. But as he continued, he pushed the bunny’s skull deeper into his mouth with each lick, as if he needed to utilize the entire surface area of his tongue, even if it meant encompassing Sans with his jaws.

“blue—blue!” Sans tried addressing him with the name he’d given. “cut it out, will ya?”

Blue didn’t cut it out. Instead he closed his jaws around Sans, gently resting his teeth on the base of the bunny’s skull. Sans’s vision went black, not because it was dark inside the wolf’s mouth—it was illuminated by the magic of his tongue, palate and throat—but because his own eyelights has guttered out. After a moment he felt the teeth lift from his skull, and fully expected it was only to avoid scraping against him as he was pushed deeper.

But he felt air against his skull, cooling the traces of wolf saliva, and when he blinked his eyelights back on he saw Blue grinning down at him. “you don’t gotta be so scared, red,” the wolf told him. He wasn’t contrite in the least, clearly entertained by Sans’s reaction.

Anger flared through Sans at being teased like that, but he kept it in check. If the wolf would stick Sans’s skull practically down his throat, there was no telling how far he’d take things if he was provoked. Sans forced a smile. “yeah, you really had me goin’ there for a second. good prank, pal. wanna put me down now?”

The wolf snorted, even more amused. “who said it was a prank, red?”

Sans kicked at the wolf’s ribs, but if he felt it at all he didn’t react. “come on, blue, you wouldn’t really—”

His words were cut off as Blue pushed Sans’s skull into his mouth again, quickly and deliberately now, in contrast to the leisurely teasing he’d been enjoying subjecting the bunny to. Sans found his face pressed up against the magic of the wolf’s mouth and throat, a terror only surpassed when the magic in front of him parted to let him in and the wolf kept pushing him deeper. In a moment his skull was enveloped, ears pressed flush with bone, thankfully not being snagged or pulled as he slipped through the slimy passage into the wolf’s body. His arms were squeezed against his sides, his ribs compressed, tighter with each periodic undulation of the blue flesh as it pushed him further in.

Sans thought the pressure would dust him, and he hoped a belly full of dust wouldn’t do the wolf any good. But it eased and he found himself at rest, still surrounded by damp blue magic. Was this the wolf’s stomach? He blinked, taking in the faintly glowing curves and the shadows of ribs above him. What would happen to him here? He hadn’t given it a lot of thought but he’d somehow supposed he would have lost consciousness by this point. Maybe being squeezed to dust would have been the more pleasant option.

What would Papyrus think? Would he ever find out what had happened? Would he get himself killed trying to avenge Sans? Of course not; he was smarter than that. He wouldn’t take on the wolf without a clever strategy. Maybe he would sensibly shrug off the loss and carry on. Either way, there was nothing Sans could do about it in here.

He scratched experimentally at the flesh surrounding him. It was soft and yielding but tough and slippery. There wasn’t much to do but lie back and wait.

***

“Ugh, Sans, he’s filthy!”

“yeah, yeah, but i can’t just dunk him in the sink while he’s asleep. give ‘im a minute.”

It sounded like Sans was arguing with Papyrus about his habitual slovenly state, but something was off. The voices weren’t right. And he hadn’t spoken, so the part of Sans was being played by someone else. It was curious enough that he went to the effort of sitting up. He was indoors, somewhere spacious, but otherwise reminiscent of home.

“There, he’s awake! Now you can rinse him off!”

It all came rushing back when he saw the wolf. Not Blue but another wolf, even taller although less bulky, and reaching toward Sans. The bunny threw his hands up defensively. “whoa, whoa, don’t get handsy with me, pal! who’re you?”

The question was more effective than Sans could have dreamed, as the wolf drew back in order to strike a dashing pose. “I? I am the great Papyrus! You’ve already met my brother.”

“papyrus?” Sans repeated. That was...odd, to say the least. But if he squinted he could see the resemblance.

“Yes!” Wolf Papyrus loomed over him expectantly, and he was so confused he forgot to be afraid. The wolf noticed. “Didn’t Sans explain it to you? Sans, did you bring him here without telling him anything?”

“sans?” Sans parroted. But Wolf Papyrus had turned to address Blue.

The sight of the wolf who had eaten him sent a chill down Sans’s spine. He reached for a teleport but found his magic reserves were almost totally drained.

Blue shrugged. “one thing led to another.”

Wolf Papyrus turned back to the bunny. “Bunny Sans, I presume? Do you know where you are?”

Sans studied him cautiously for a moment, then gave in. He couldn’t picture this monster deceiving him. “last i remember i was inside a wolf.”

Wolf Papyrus rolled his eye lights. “Yes, my brother does that sometimes.”

“And after he said he wasn’t gonna hurt me.”

Blue was immune to Sans’s reproach. “i wasn’t lying. you’re not hurt, are ya?”

Wolf Papyrus’s disapproval was more effective. Blue wilted a little as his brother shook his skull. But the taller wolf brightened after a moment. “Anyway! I will leave Sans to explain multiverse theory to you. And I will make some spaghetti with carrots in it!”

“carrots?” Sans realized he was ravenous as his gaze lingered on the retreating wolf.

Blue scooped him off the carpet, making him yelp. “carrots should be pretty edible. come on, you gotta get cleaned up for dinner.”

Sans shuddered at the phrase.

“you must think i’m a big mean wolf, huh?”

Blue didn’t sound either resentful or repentant. Sans answered carefully. “well—i mean, yeah, maybe?”

“sorry I scared ya. but you don’t have to rabbit in.”

A grin crept over Sans’s face as the wolf set him in the edge of the bathroom sink and turned on the water. “lettuce forget all about it then. i don’t carrot all anymore.”

Blue grinned back. Papyrus wouldn’t be too worried about him yet— he could stay a bit longer and bring home some of the carrots in apology.

[nneefa]

fic: linda

fandom: xiaolin showdown

characters: raimundo/kimiko, clay, omi, the tohomikos

summary: if raimundo hadn't known kimiko better, he'd think she was fishing for a compliment, given that omi and clay had just sung her praises. as it was, he did know her better, especially if the glint in her blue eyes was anything to go by, and he suddenly felt very uncomfortable.

notes: ooh, boy. let's see where to start: 1) "linda" means "beautiful" in portuguese; 2) the park our teen kiddos are at is "Shinjuku Gyoen." i highly recommend y'all google it. it's very beautiful; 3) kimiko's yukata is based off this image; 4) this is like headcanons gone wild, but most importantly, credit goes to @sunbirddtellsstories for "Tomoko." i can only hope i portrayed her the way she was intended to be. 5) dedicated to the anon that asked me for raikim. i hope to the heavens that i portrayed the characters accurately.

[[MORE]]

❀

Raimundo barely had time to brace himself as the chilly spring air cut past the defenses of his layered clothing, right down to his bones.

He fought the urge to shiver as he sunk lower and lower into his coat, pulling his skull cap further over his ears before burrowing his hands into the safety of his coat pockets. He watched Clay shake like a pair of maracas on the ground, Omi pressed close to his side, like a squirrel clinging to a tree, in an effort to provide him warmth. He almost wanted to join them, anything to get rid of the goosebumps settling on his skin, but there was hardly any room on the blanket they sat on, with Clay's massive body taking up more than half the space, and somebody had to keep an eye out for Mr. Tohomiko for when he came back. The elderly man had insisted on getting them all hot drinks while they waited for the girls to show.

If only Kimiko were here; she could heat things up in an instant.

Speaking of Kimiko… leave it to her to take a long time, especially when this whole thing was her idea. Okay, maybe it wasn't her idea exactly - more like her sister's - but still. Japan was ridiculously cold. Where he's from, anything below sweltering was foreign, and even if he did spend the better part of three years training in the mountains of China, that didn't mean he was used to it.

Raimundo breathed a deep breath, watching it fade in the frigid air, and turned his gaze away from his friends to survey the park they were in.

Tokyo really was a beautiful city, especially in the spring. The only things he'd seen since their last visit were skyscrapers, shops, and shrines, and while those were nice and all, they paled in comparison to the city's blooming cherry blossom trees.

Sakura, Mr. Tohomiko had called them, stretched as far as the eye could see, the pink and white flowers breathtakingly beautiful against the bright blue sky, like something straight from a painting. There were hundreds, maybe even thousands, of people, families and couples and loners alike, scattered across the large expanse of the park with blankets and baskets and cameras, some seated in the sun having picnics, some relaxed beneath the shade of the trees on the petal-laden ground.

There were women, children, and even some men dressed in elaborately designed kimono for the occasion, though the bulk of them wore regular, civilian clothes, and he wondered briefly if Kimiko would be wearing hers. (He quickly banished the thought). Raimundo was pretty sure he saw at least three ponds on their walk across the park, two different sections of landscape with their own sets of flora and fauna, a pavilion located across a bridge, and from their spot beneath a Sakura tree he could even see a tower in the distance.

If it weren't for the fact that he was waiting for the others, he definitely would've gone exploring by now. What did Kimiko call this festival again? Hanabi? Hanami? Hababi? Whatever! It was nothing like he'd ever seen, and he was thankful the Tohomikos were kind enough to let them join their family outing.

Though I'd truly be thankful if they hurried up, he thought to himself as another gust of wind blew through the park. Any longer out here and I'll be a human popsicle.

Just as he was about to ask Clay and Omi to make room for him, he saw Mr. Tohomiko slip through a gap in the crowd, carrying two cup holders full of piping hot drinks. Raimundo immediately moved after him, his hands already on the drinks before the man could react. "Here, let me help you with that."

Toshiro blinked at him, surprised, but then he smiled before relinquinshing his hold on the items. "You have my gratitude, Pedrosa-san. By the way, I hope I didn't take too long. Japan's spring can be a little unforgiving at times."

"Nah, it's okay," Raimundo replied with a smile of his own, following him to where Clay and Omi were seated. "Though I'm not sure if I can say the same for our pal Clay."

"Forgive me, Bailey-san," Toshiro apologized with a slight bow of his head and a sympathetic smile once they'd reached them. "I wasn't expecting to encounter so many Goo Zombie fans in one place."

"That's quite alright, sir," said Clay, nodding his head in thanks when he handed him a drink from the tray. "If anythin', I should be the one apologizin'. Had I known you'd be swarmed, I'd gone with you."

"With your station, you must get attacked a lot," Omi said, making a grab for one of the teas. "I can't imagine what it's like to be a famous person in such a big city."

"You certainly like to try," Raimundo teased, grinning when the young boy shot him a glare over the rim of his cup.

The Dragon of Water blew into his tea before taking a sip, sparing Toshiro an earnest look. Genuinely, he added, "If you'd like, Mr. Tohomiko, we can accompany you until we return to the temple. We'll make sure no harm befalls Kimiko's papa."

Toshiro let out a hearty laugh, his smile as kind and warm as ever. "What kind young men you are! But there's no need to worry over an old man like me. Kimiko and Tomoko help me plenty already."

"Now that you mention them," Clay trailed off, curling his knees to his chest with a swig of his coffee, "what d'ya reckon's keepin' 'em?"

Toshiro fished into his coat pocket for his cell phone in order to check the time, his brows knitted in confusion. "I'm not sure," he answered. "It has been quite some time since we were scheduled to meet. Perhaps, I should call them."

"Knowing Kimiko, she probably lost track of time doing her nails again, right, Omi?" Raimundo joked, elbowing him with a wink after placing the trays on the blanket. "It wouldn't be the first time, now would it?"

"Nor the last," the younger monk agreed, recalling the time where their friend forgot the Ancient Scroll of the Shen Gong Wu over her panda faces.

"What d'ya think it is this time?" Raimundo asked with a grin, pilfering a cup of hot cocoa from the tray before opting to lean against the tree. "Giraffes or smiley faces?"

Omi shook his head. "She did smiley faces last week." Then he smiled and said, "My butt's on teddy bears."

"Uh, that's 'bet's,' bro," Raimundo corrected him with a raised brow. "I think she'll settle for something simple this time, like french tip."

"My wager's on flowers," Clay added, gesturing to the pink petals on the ground with his cup. "It'd certainly fit the theme of this here's festival."

As the boys continued to ponder over Kimiko's possible nail designs, Toshiro watching the exchange with a hint of amusement, none of them noticed the girls making their way through the crowd, towards their group. Not until one of them called out to Mr. Tohomiko.

"Papa!" Tomoko exclaimed, earning everyone's attention.

She looked completely out of breath as she came to a stop in front of her father, though that did nothing to stop her from smiling, and she hugged him just before launching into an explanation in Japanese. Apparently, her fans had swarmed her on the way here too, and wouldn't let her leave until she'd signed every single autograph and taken every single group photo there was to offer. It was thanks to the efforts of Kimiko that they even made it at all.

Raimundo heard a series of footsteps from behind father and daughter, followed by a chain of frustrated grunts, and knew it was Kimiko and her friend Keiko. Clay and Omi stood up, eager to finally see their teammate after what felt like hours in the cold, dusting cherry blossoms off of their clothes in the process. The Shoku leader smirked into his cup before closing his eyes and taking a swig of his cocoa, relishing in the sweetness just as Kimiko came into view.

"Geez, Kim. It took you long enough," he teased after swallowing his drink. "D'you have any idea how long we've been waiting for y-" But the faux complaint died on his lips when he finally opened his eyes and saw her, and in that moment only one word came to mind.

"What," Kimiko shot back with a raised brow, a smirk dancing across on her face. "Cat got your tongue? Say something!"

If Raimundo had thought Tokyo was beautiful in the spring before, then that was nothing compared to how Kimiko looked now. While a tiny, fleeting part of him had hoped she was wearing a kimono, he hadn't really expected her to go the whole nine, considering how much she'd loathed them in the past, but then again, it wouldn't really be Kimiko if she wasn't constantly proving him wrong.

She stood out like a flower all on her own in her black kimono, a dark swirl in a sea of color. Small pink and white petals adorned the top half of it, much like the cherry blossoms surrounding them, including the sleeves, though the closer it got to the bottom, they varied in size and shape until it was bursting with color, and holding it all together was a bright, gold sash and red string. Of course, her outfit wouldn't be complete if she didn't have a purse to match. Her hair was fashioned with both the Tangled Web Comb and Changing Chopsticks in an elaborately braided bun, her face framed by the loose, black curls that managed to escape her updo.

Had it been him three years ago, he'd have acted like an idiot and teased her on the spot, anything to downplay his attraction. But now, at 16-years-old, Raimundo found himself, not for the first time, speechless. She was- Kimiko was-

"Beautiful!" Omi had blurted at the top of his lungs.

Raimundo hadn't realized he'd been gawking at her like some kinda dopey, cross-eyed schoolboy until the small monk was no longer at his side, but fluttering about Kimiko with all the tenacity of a 13-year-old boy in love. Quickly, he averted his gaze to Keiko, whom he acknowledged with a nod of his head, as heat settled in his ears and cheeks, and for once since he'd arrived in Japan, he found himself grateful for the cold. He didn't trust his voice and he was pretty sure he looked like a tomato right now.

"Look at you! Well, aren't you 'bout as pretty as a magnolia in May?" Clay remarked, tipping his hat up with a finger to get a better view of their friend.

Omi nodded his head with a flourish as he admired her apperance from head to toe. "You look very pretty, Kimiko. You've even managed to incorporate the Changing Chopsticks into your wardrobe this time!"

Kimiko's cheeks darkened, though she beamed at their compliments, and she touched the aforementioned Shen Gong Wu with her free hand. "You like? At first I wasn't going to add them, but it went too well with my outfit to pass up. Plus, you never know when it'll come in handy."

"And look!" Omi cooed excitedly, taking her hand and holding it up like he'd just uncovered a new Shen Gong Wu. "She even styled her nails after France, just like you said Raimundo."

Quietly, she looked to Rai, who hadn't said a single word since she'd first arrived and raised a brow at him, her cocky smirk ever-present. "Well, Rai? What do you think?"

If Raimundo hadn't known Kimiko better, he'd think she was fishing for a compliment, given that Omi and Clay had just sung her praises. As it was, he did know her better, especially if the glint in her blue eyes was anything to go by, and he suddenly felt very uncomfortable. She'd purposely put him on the spot. (Granted, Omi did it first; he'd have to have a little talk with him about this later). He was vaguely aware that the guys were staring at him, anticipating his next words, but thankfully Tomoko had latched onto her sister's arm before Raimundo could loosen the knot on his tongue and speak.

He released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding when the older Tohomiko girl had pulled her, and by extension Keiko, towards Toshiro for a group photo, with Omi as their photographer. Clay put a hand on Raimundo's shoulder as the group huddled together, a soft, yet knowing smile overtaking the cowboy's lips.

"That pretty, huh?" Clay asked, dropping his hand when Rai looked at him.

Though his hot cocoa was long gone, Raimundo felt a warmth settle in his stomach as turned back to face the group, just in time to see a genuine smile break out over Kimiko's face. For the first time ever, he found himself admitting a very obvious truth: Kimiko was beautiful.

"Yeah."

Clay blinked, taken aback by his best friend's gentle admission, but it didn't last very long and soon he found himself smiling too.

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Fragile Things (ch.3, baon)

Summary:  It’s been a very long week

Tags: Spicyhoney, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Angst

Notes: Brace yourselves, you have to go forward to go back...but because I had a few people who were concerned enough to ask, let me reassure y'all that no one is dying in this series, nor would I ever have Edge and Stretch separate, nope, nope, nope. Life isn't perfect for them, never was, but you can count on that much, for certain.

part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

Read it on AO3

or

Read it here!

~~*~~

When Edge first opened his sockets, he wasn’t sure where he was. Blearily, he looked around the room, his thoughts tangled and sleepy.

The walls were painted a soft yellow and hanging on them were paintings of soothing landscapes and floral arrangements, done by the artists in the Monster community. On a corner table was a vase of dried flowers, carefully displayed to bring a touch of soft color to the room. The overall effect would have given the appearance of a luxury hotel room, if not for the hospital bed and the monitoring equipment.

There were comfortable chairs, a far cry from those in the waiting room. Blue was curled up asleep in one of them, his head resting on his updrawn knees. Beneath the curtained window was a cushioned bench. At some point in the night Sans had crawled up on it and he was sound sleep, unflinching at the dawn light pouring across his face.

They both had matching dark smudges beneath their sockets, their faces lined with weariness. He surely had a set of his own. Matching luggage, wasn’t that the witticism?

His exhaustion must be making him giddy, if he was thinking up jokes. Sleeping in a chair had done little for his fatigue but his magic had recovered quite a bit, they should all have gotten something to eat before they’d fallen asleep last night, they—

It was only when the blankets on the bed shifted that Edge woke up entirely, everything that had happened the night before falling painfully into place. Stretch stirring was likely what had woken him, and Edge leaned back in his chair, watching as Stretch’s face scrunched up, his sockets flickering.

At some point in the night, someone had removed most of the electrodes, which meant someone had been in this room and Edge had slept through it. That he’d berate himself for later; right now his attention was entirely on Stretch as he slowly woke.

He blinked rapidly, his head lifting from the pillow as he looked around in confusion. His eye lights met Edge’s and he could see dawning realization before he let his head drop back on the pillow, closed his sockets as he croaked out a heartfelt, “fuck.”

“Yes, I would call that an accurate assessment,” Edge said acidly. Stretch’s sockets pinched shut tighter for a brief moment before he slit them open again, fuzzy white lights meeting the crimson of his glare. “’Fuck’ is certainly a word to describe this. Perhaps I can use it in a sentence for you. For example, what the fuck were you thinking?”

Behind him, he could hear Sans and Blue stirring, but he didn’t look away from Stretch, who was shrinking down in a guilty cringe. It confirmed everything he’d been afraid of; not only had Stretch been doing something dangerous, he’d done it on purpose, without even the barest precaution of a lab partner. The fear he’d been swallowing back all night, waiting hours for if when his husband woke, was congealing within him, hardening into fury.

Pure carelessness, that was all it was, Stretch so foolhardy with his own life, and for what?

“Would you care to explain what happened?” Edge demanded. “Do you even know?”

Blue slid out of the chair, scrubbing hard at his sockets as he came up to Edge’s elbow, “Pappy, you should rest—"

They both ignored him and Stretch burst out, “look, i know, i fucked up.”

Edge laughed harshly and Stretch cringed harder, gripping his hands together, the bones scraping. “Oh, well, then, you know that you fucked up, that makes it all fine, doesn’t it?”

“i didn’t say that!” Stretch blurted. He was breathing heavily, the machines giving a beep of warning. But a quick Check showed his HP was fine and Edge wasn’t about to apologize for Checking him. As agitated as Stretch was, Edge doubted he noticed. “it’s just with everything that’s been happening lately, i was trying to…to get the fucking thing to work. i thought if i could get it working properly, things would get better.” He reached out tentatively, his fingers drifting limply down to the bed when Edge didn’t take his hand. “i thought, humans might not like us but if we could work through a way to help them heal? they’d be begging for us to stay aboveground.”

“Pray tell, how does that excuse cutting corners? I may not understand everything you do in your lab, but I do know Sans should have been with you.”

“edge,” Sans said behind him. His voice was low and miserable, but Edge couldn’t pay attention to that. His focus was a laser on Stretch, angry heat throbbing in his rib cage.

“i know,” Stretch whispered. A tear streaked down his cheekbone and for the first time since they’d gotten together Edge felt a brief, vicious moment of satisfaction at seeing it, coupled with distant pain. 

“Do you have any idea how it felt to go downstairs and see you like that?” Edge went on, relentlessly.

“i get it, okay?” Stretch’s voice broke, pleading.

“If you don’t care how it made me feel, then think about your brother!”

“i care how you feel!” Stretch shouted. The tears were flowing now, bright orange against the paleness of his skull. “of course i fucking care! you’ve been under so much stress lately, i only wanted to—" Stretch bit off the words, scrubbing angrily at his cheek bones with the back of his hand. “i was trying to help!”

That was like a blow, directly to his soul and abruptly it all made a glaring sort of sense. Stretch had done this because of him. He'd risked his life for him, all for him.

Slowly, Edge stood, the chair scraping loudly on the floor as he pushed it back. Without a word, he turned and walked out, couldn’t listen to Stretch frantically calling his name. He needed a moment, or he was going to say something he’d truly regret.

His boots were too loud against the clean tile of the floor, the steady sound of them lulling as Edge walked swiftly through the corridors. His feet carried him automatically to the visitor area where doors led outside to a terrace. Distantly, he registered someone standing on one end, smelled a whiff of cigarette smoke. He ignored them, pushing aside the flutter of emotion that familiar scent gave him, and walked to the other side to brace his hands against the snowy stone balustrade.

The volcanic heat in his soul was pounding with molten fury, LV that rarely troubled him clamoring unforgivingly. Edge dug his fingers into the stone until they hurt, the pain purposefully distracting as he concentrated on breathing. In to a count of four, then out, drawing out the exhalation as long as he could. Finding a rhythm, letting it soothe him.

The cold helped as well; it cleared his head, helped him focus. Edge stood there until his feet and hands were numb, his skull chilly with drying sweat.

He gave it another long moment before he said, acidly, “I know you’re there.”

Red stepped out from a shadow, the glow of his eye lights appearing abruptly. “good, was getting sick of hiding.”

He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out a slender cigar, biting off the end with sharp teeth and spitting it over the terrace. He took his time lighting it, scratching the match against the stone balustrade and holding the cigar in the tiny flame until the end glowed cherry red. He took a long puff, exhaling a vile cloud of smoke that wafted directly into Edge’s face. “all right now?”

Edge considered it before he answered, watching the ash grow in length at the cigar tip before his brother tapped it carefully away. “Yes. If you blow that smoke in my face again, I’m going to shove that cigar through your eye socket.”

A grin quirked up the corner of Red’s mouth, but he moved to stand downwind. “whatever you say, boss.”

It wasn’t worth the argument to tell his brother not to call him that, not at this moment. “How long have you been here?”

Red shrugged, leaning with his back against the railing. “since last night. didn’t want to interrupt your little slumber party, so i talked with the doc. sleeping pretty heavy these days, aren’t you, bro.”

Edge didn’t bother answering that. His brother would find a way to punish him for it, eventually. For now, he had more important questions, “What did the doctor say?”

“said that your liability is fucking lucky you found him when you did,” Red said bluntly. Edge did not flinch, only met his brother’s gaze evenly. Eventually, Red nodded. “he’ll be okay. sans was a little forthcoming, at least,” something in his expression soured a little at that. Perhaps Edge wasn’t the only one with a reprimand in his future. “that little toy of theirs was supposed to take a little of their magic. no big deal, both of them have it in spades. only, something backfired and instead it drained him dry. when it ran out of magic, it went for his hp.”

Perhaps it was a measure of kindness that Red stopped there, that he didn’t confirm what Edge already knew. If he hadn’t been worried when Stretch didn’t show up for dinner, if he’d stayed later at work, if, if, if. Or perhaps Red didn’t want to antagonize his LV any further by saying what they were both thinking.

Dust.

With a flick of his wrist, Red tamped out his cigar, tossing the butt into a nearby ashtray. “if you’re done with your bitch fit, we should get back. your pretty little honey bun is about to have an aneurysm. doc is talking about sedating him if he doesn’t calm down.”

Guilt flared, as painfully cold as his anger had been hot but Red was already shaking his head. “don’t even, kid. sometimes you gotta walk away. Better to take a chance leaving than staying like that.”

Edge nodded curtly, turning on heel and walking away. His brother didn’t follow him, but then, Edge didn’t expect him to. Red would find his own way back to the room.

He could hear weeping before he even made it to the doorway, taking a slow breath and bracing himself before he walked in. Blue was sitting on the bed with Stretch, holding his brother and rocking him, singing softly. Sans was nowhere in sight.

Blue’s eye lights jerked towards Edge as he stepped through the door, wide and accusing but he said nothing, only loosened his hold as Edge moved up to the side of the bed.

When Stretch lifted his face from his brother’s shoulder, his face was awash with tears. The sound he made, a low, whimpering moan, tore at Edge’s battered soul. He let Stretch grab him with frantic hands, let him pull him in, holding him achingly tight.

“don’t leave me,” Stretch pleaded, his unsettled hands grasping at him frantically. “please, i’m sorry, i’m so sorry, don’t leave, please…”

“Hush,” Edge murmured. Uselessly; Stretch only babbled on, but he managed to move enough to pull Stretch into his lap in a tangle of blankets and tubes. Gently, he cupped the back of Stretch’s skull, guiding his head down to his own shoulder. Wetness seeped through his shirt almost immediately. Edge ignored it, petting softly, soothingly, as he crooned, “Shh, it’s all right, it’s all right now, I wasn’t leaving, I would never leave you, shhhh. You aren't getting rid of me that easily.”

He heard the door close and sent a thought of silent gratitude at Red, for surely he’d dragged Blue out; it was highly unlikely he’d leave on his own, not with his brother like this. But Edge preferred to deal with his husband’s upset without an audience and he didn’t care to be soothing both Swap brothers. He cared about Blue, for all that he could be an occasional irritant, but his passion and his love was for one skeleton alone, the one in his arms.

Edge only held Stretch as he cried himself out, murmuring useless reassurances until he fell asleep. He waited until he was sure Stretch was sleeping soundly, then, with as much care as he could, Edge lifted Stretch back into the bed. He took his time tucking the blankets around him, wiping away the drying dregs of his tears, then lay down next to him, on top of the covers.

Eventually a nurse came in, pausing as she caught sight of Edge on the bed. Edge glared at her, but she didn’t say a word, only changed the IV bag and left.

With a sigh, he settled in, resting his head on the pillow next to Stretch’s and closed his sockets. He didn’t care what anyone did or didn’t say, doctors, brothers, or the Angel herself.

He wasn’t going anywhere.

-finis-

[charmedtheselfproclaimedking]

Charmed Again (Charmed Fanfic)

Episode 10 - Into The Darkness (Finale)

Warnings: I don’t own the rights to any of the characters from the hit TV show “Charmed” or the storylines related to the show those rights belong to original creator Constance M Burge.

15+ Moderate/Graphic Displays of Violence, Sexual Innuendos, Witchcraft and Potentially Triggering Scenes.

Paul walked in the San Francisco Police Department anxiously barging past people before rushing up the stairs and into a hallway before reaching Eric Morgan’s office door as he began knocking on the door repeatedly before Eric eventually shouted for him to come in.

“I’m just going to assume you will be continuously visiting my office until someone has heard of anything about where the hell Drake is.” Eric said to a clearly sleep deprived Paul as Paul walked into his office. “Mr Halliwell, I promise you that we are doing everything within our power to find your son he’s a top priority and not just because he used to be one of us. I consider him family I mean I’ve known him since he was a kid.”

“I know your doing everything you can and I’m doing everything within my power to find him.” Paul replied. “It’s been an entire week with no sightings either up here or down below and I’ve tried every spell in the book of shadows and I’m beginning to think…”

“Don’t even finish that sentence Paul, I’ve known Drake a long time and one thing he’s always been is a survivor.” Eric told Paul. “Trust me wherever he is he will be alive and probably making any kidnapper regret every second their holding him hostage.”

“You’re right and his mother is the queen of hell surely that will win my son some brownie points if it is a demonic situation.” Paul agreed. “I just want him home.”

Lacey burst through Eric’s office door immediately demanding both of their attention with her clothes torn and her entire body covered in dirt, bruises and cuts leaving both her father and her sister’s brother completely confused.

“What happened to you?” Paul asked in shock.

“Apparently desert islands make shitty prisons when your cast under a guardian spell that will make you stop at nothing to protect a certain charmed one.” Lacey revealed to them both.

“I have gathered you all here because I am far from amused about the rumblings and rumors about your queen becoming soft.” Eve declared as to a cave full of demons in black robes who knelled before their queen as she sat on her throne made entirely of skulls within the Underworld. “I am the queen of hell and I’ve worked harder than any of you so I refuse to allow these treacherous lies to continue so by order of your queen you are to kill all who would defy me.”

“My queen some of us are only worried that the ties you have with the charmed ones will only weaken your loyalty towards the Underworld I mean you have a son who is a charmed one.” A random demon stood up and interrupted only to catch on flames by a wave of Eve’s hands before the demon exploded into pieces.

“I will never allow rumors, lies or any disloyalty of any kind.” Eve made herself clear. “Which brings me to my next reason for this meeting I can confirm my son has rejected his charmed heritage to join us in the ranks of the Underworld.”

“But my beloved queen a charmed in hell is unheard of.” Another demon interrupted while rising to their feet. “I fear this will be the undoing of us all.”

Drake blinks himself in front of the robed demon before Eve could respond to the demon shouting athame which appeared in the Halliwell hybrid’s hands before he used the weapon to plunge it into the demon’s chest.

“I believe my mother made herself very clear about being questioned.” Drake addressed the demons while his victim burst into flames before exploding.

“How on earth did you escape the island?” Pan asked Lacey as she and Paul walked into the foyer of the Halliwell Manor where she was stood waiting.

“It drove me insane and I have cuts and wounds in places I never knew existed, but this guardian stuff is no joke.” A now freshly dressed Lacey revealed to her girlfriend before giving her a kiss.

“Why didn’t Quinn at least try and stop you?” Pan wondered.

“He’s a little bit scared of me which I fully used to my advantage.” Lacey boasted with a smile of pride on her face.

“I’m glad to see you Lacey but you can’t be here right now it’s more dangerous around this place than ever before.” Pan told her detective girlfriend.

“Paul filled me in on everything Drake related, and it seems to me I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.” Lacey replied to her.

“I must say the fact that third act of the charmed ones is still missing and you’re all incapable of finding him doesn’t give me much confidence in your evaluation.” Merlow announced after orbing into the foyer. “Or the fact we’re entrusting mortals with magical secrets.”

“Screw your bloody evaluation,” Paul snapped at the elder. “I don’t care what you have to say or what you think of us my son is missing and that’s all that matters right now.”

“Who the hell is this guy?” Lacey asked Pan.

“He’s this elder who’s been sent to evaluate us as charmed ones and Quinn as a white lighter.” Pan revealed to her.

“And where exactly is Jason Quinn? I haven’t been able to get some proper one on one time with him for an entire week.” Merlow wondered.

“You can forgive him for being too busy doing his job to be able to have a sit and chat with you.” Pan said, being the next Halliwell to snap at the elder.

“Yes well Drake is only one of Jason Quinn’s many charges and although I do believe the charmed ones should be his priority he shouldn’t be wasting all his time for a charge who is more than likely given into his demonic side I mean that’s what demons do best.” Merlow replied to Pan.

Lacey quickly walked over to the elder with a furious look on her face before punching him in the face causing the elder to hit the floor with force.

“Here’s my evaluation of your pompous ass you’re rude and need to leave before I test this whole angel not being able to die twice theory.” Lacey told the elder rather bluntly making both Paul and Pan smile.

“This will not stand you can’t just disrespect an elder like this.” Merlow complained as he got back onto his two feet.

“Why not? I mean you were disrespecting us.” Pan answered him. “And last time I checked my girlfriend can do whatever the hell she likes to do and often does.”

Merlow didn’t waste time responding to Pan choosing to quickly orb away before angering the three of them any further.

“I think we should be looking straight at the source of all evil I mean she was in contact with him and he had recently worked out she was a big liar just before he went missing.” Lacey suggested to both Pan and Paul.

“You might be right,” Pan replied. “I really thought for a second she might’ve considered doing the right thing for her son.”

“What made you think for a single second she’d ever do that?” Paul questioned his sister before realizing. “You’ve spoken to her, haven’t you?”

“What am I missing here?” Lacey asked them both before turning her attention to her girlfriend. “Why on earth would you believe the source of all evil would have any good in her I mean the hints right there in her title?”

“Have you or have you not seen her?” Paul snapped at Paul.

“She may have visited me once or twice but both times were before Drake went missing and I thought I was getting through to her but clearly she never listened to a single word I said.” Pan admitted to her older brother. “Eve’s never been an easy subject for either of us to speak about and I didn’t need you worrying anymore than you were already else I would’ve told you sooner I swear I had no idea she’d stoop so low as to kidnap her own soon.”

“Of course, you never believed she would do something like that I can’t believe after all these years she can still fool you.” Paul furiously replied to her. “I can’t believe you’ve let her do this to us again.”

“Oh my god you were involved with the source, weren’t you?” A stunned Lacey asked her girlfriend. “You were involved with Drake’s mother?”

“In my defense I was with her before she became Drake’s mother.” Pan replied to her girlfriend before delivering a bitch glare towards her brother.

“Did you love her?” Lacey questioned Pan while dreading the answer.

Eve appeared in a burst of flames within a satanic circle somewhere within the caves of the Underworld where three people whose identities were hidden in triad robes awaited their queen of hell.

“I have followed your advice, but I don’t believe everything is going as planned.” She said to them. “He’s definitely darker now but he doesn’t seem like my son anymore.”

“He’s merely growing accustomed to his newfound darkness he is bound to change as time goes on while the evil takes more and more control over him before finally becoming the son you’ve always wanted and the prince the Underworld needs.” One of the three triad members replied to her.

“He’s already the son I’ve always wanted I don’t want him to change who he is.” Eve admitted to the triad.

“Why infect him with the woogy if you didn’t want him to change?” Another third of the triad spoke. “Now is not a time for you to be weak and question yourself Eve.”

“You’re right I’m just adjusting to this change like Drake is.” Eve agreed. “I just wish he chose this life instead of having to force it upon him.”

“I’m sorry I thought dumping you on a remote island was a good idea and I’m sorry you had to get back here yourself before I came to my senses although I must admit I’m highly impressed that you did.” Pan apologised to Lacey as the two of them sat on the couch within the living room of the Halliwell Manor.

“I’m more surprised that someone like you could be with someone who literally lives and rules hell.” Lacey admitted to her.

“Firstly, the Underworld is more like a hellish lair than hell itself in fact hell is a much worse place believe it or not and secondly she wasn’t the source when I used to be with her.” Pan revealed to her girlfriend.

“That’s a bit more understandable I suppose but why didn’t you just tell me you and Drake’s mother had a past?” Lacey asked.

“It’s a painful part of my past and I didn’t wee why you need to know.” Pan told her.

“I’m supposed to be the woman you love, and it feels like you hid something from me because it’s still painful and therefore not part of your past if you’re still hurting in the present.” Lacey explained to Pan. “I dealt well with the magic secret I would’ve handled Eve well too.”

“She is a part of my past Lacey.” Pan promised her.

“Do you still have feelings for her?” Lacey asked only to be immediately met with a silence that devastated her. “I guess that means yes.”

“No of course I don’t have feelings for her anymore Lacey.” Pan told her after Lacey stood up from the couch as Pan stood up to face her. “I love you.”

“I know you do, and I love you too, but that moment of hesitation says you’re not quite over her yet.” Lacey said as tears formed in her eyes.

“That’s not true.” Pan replied with uncertainty as tears began forming in her eyes too.

“I can’t be with someone who has feelings for someone else.” Lacey cried.

“Why does it feel like we’re breaking up?” Pan asked, fearing the obvious answer.

“Because we are.” Lacey admitted.

Drake found himself walking through the seemingly never-ending caves of the Underworld when Quinn orbed his way in front of his troubled charge.

“Quinn you really shouldn’t have come here.” Drake told him before being met with a hug from his white lighter.

“I’m so glad you’re okay we were all worried about you.” Quinn admitted before breaking off his hug with the man he loved. “Are you okay?”

“You probably should’ve have came looking for me.” Drake replied as his eyes briefly turned jet black before returning to normal.

“Oh no Drake what’s happened to you?” A fearful Quinn asked before Drake summoned a fireball above his hand. “Let’s just say I’m royalty now.”

“Please just tell me what I’m supposed to do?” Paul pleaded as he looked upwards stood in front of the book of shadows within the attic of the Halliwell Manor, shouting to his ancestors for help in finding his missing son. “Please I can’t lose him again.”

The book of shadows began flipping pages on it’s own accord once again before stopping on the page with the spell entitled how to banish the Woogyman which left him confused knowing the woogy is normally a problem from within the family home and that was one place where his son wasn’t.

“You really should’ve just stayed away for once in your life.” Drake said to Quinn as he began walking towards his white lighter in the caves of the Underworld. “This isn’t personal but if folk down here got word we met, and I didn’t kill you they’d think I’m soft and I can’t be having that.”

“I don’t know what’s happened to you Drake, but you know this isn’t you.” Quinn pleaded with his charge.

“It’s who I am now.” Drake replied to him.

“I don’t know what it is that’s controlling you, but you are stronger than this.” Quinn tried to convince him.

“No, he can’t.” Drake laughed sinisterly as his eyes went completely jet black.

“Okay well if talking isn’t working.” Quinn said before plunging towards a possessed Drake kissing him and watching Drake’s eyes as they turned back to normal. “It worked.”

Drake smiled at Quinn for a brief moment before pulling his body towards his own as the two men began passionately kissing each other as their hands begin to wonder fondling each of their bodies in the process before Drake pushed Quinn up against a nearby wall and pulled his white lighter’s shirt open with force as they looked at each other for a moment with longing in their eyes before Quinn tore open Drake’s shirt and the two began kissing once again.

“You should really start thinking about doing a girl a favour and staying dead.” Lacey said while knocking back her beer in a rundown dive bar as Paul and Pan’s mother Melinda sat down on a stool next to her placed at the bar counter.

“I know I’ve done you so many wrongs and I’ve wronged my children and my grandchild and I can’t ever fix what I destroyed but at the very least I can break a spell I should never have cast in the first place.” Melinda revealed to Lacey as she looked around to make sure nobody was paying too much attention.

“You mean you’ve found a way to break the spell?” Lacey asked in shock.

“Release this guardian from her chains release her from her magical reins.” Melinda chanted quietly. “The spell once cast is now reversed and Lacey will finally put Lacey first.”

“Is that it?” Lacey wondered. “It feels kind of anti-climatic after all these years.”

“That’s all I hope you one day forgive me for what I’ve done.” Melinda apologised to Lacey while standing up from her stool.

“I don’t get it after all this time why do you decide to break the spell when I’m needed more than ever before?” Lacey questioned the Halliwell ghost.

“Because Pan has suffered far too many losses and I can’t be to blame for another.” Melinda admitted to her. “Pan needs you to be safe more than I need you to play guardian.”

“Somehow I’m not entirely sure I’m her number one priority.” Lacey told Melinda.

“Of course, you’re not her family will always come first but I know you understand that.” Melinda replied to the detective. “Which means you must be talking about the infamous ex and all I can suggest there is to not let Pan’s past with Eve define your future with her.”

“Just how much do you overhear from up there exactly?” Lacey asked which was followed by her laughing.

“Enough to know that my daughter truly loves you and not her.” Melinda told her.

“I can’t be doing this we’ve got to stop doing this Quinn nothing ever comes from this and it hurts too much.” Drake admitted after pulling himself away from Quinn as the two remained in the caves of the Underworld. “You need to go and never come back.”

“I can’t leave without you Drake I know this isn’t what you want you’re nothing like your mother and you never will be.” Quinn replied to him.

“I can’t fight this thing inside of me it’s becoming too strong.” Drake said as his eyes began to go black once more. “You need to go now!”

“I’m not leaving you Drake!” Quinn made himself clear.

“Halliwell Manor!” Drake shouted as he waved his hand and made Quinn blink out of sight.

“I think Drake has somehow been infected by the woogy or at least that’s what our undead family have concluded but there’s still no way of locating him so instead of answers all I’m getting is more questions.” Paul rambled as Pan walked into the attic to find him stood behind the book of shadows.

“At least we’re one step closer to finding him,” Pan said before coming up with an idea almost instantly after. “Come to think of it what if we don’t find him?”

“So far you input is not helping.” Paul snapped at his younger sister.

“What if we use the reversal spell for the to find a lost witch spell and take ourselves to wherever he is.” Pan explained herself.

“Oh my god Pan you’re a genius.” Paul replied with excitement. “Although if we were smarter, we would’ve reached that conclusion seven days ago.”

“I found Drake and he’s possessed by…” Quinn began to say after orbing into the attic.

“The woogy.” Pan said interrupting her white lighter. “You’re kind of slow on the intake.”

“I was actually just going to say something but it’s good you guys bet me to the conclusion because that means there’s probably a spell all ready.” Quinn replied to them both before hearing a jingle in his ears. “Oh, great the elders want me right away I’m guessing it’s the conclusion of our terrible evaluation but they’re going to have to wait because Drake comes first.”

“Powers of the witches rise course unseen across the skies. Take us three to he wherever he may be. Take us there to settle there.” Pan and Paul chanted after Pan and Quinn walked over to be by Paul’s side before the three of them disappeared within a series of white orbs.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Eve screamed as she walked into the caves of the Underworld to find her son Drake sitting on her throne.

“I’ve been thinking being a prince isn’t all it’s cracked up to be I’d rather be king.” Drake admitted to her as he stood up from his mother’s throne. “Which means you’re going to have to go.”

“Okay you’re in some serious need of a time out mister.” Eve told her son before he summoned a fireball above his hand. “The woogy has seriously infected you Drake I’m the queen of hell!”

“Correction you were the queen of hell.” Drake replied before throwing the fireball in his mother’s direction to which she ducked managing to dodge the fireball which instead hit the floor of the cave as Paul, Pan and Quinn appeared in front of them both in a series of white orbs.

“Thank god,” Eve breathed a sigh of relief while looking at Pan. “Just banish the woogy out of him already!”

Paul and Quinn both looked at Eve with confusion in their eyes while Pan focused her attention on Drake raising both her hands to freeze the woogy inside the Halliwell hybrid making Drake fall to the ground while a dark smoke frozen in mid-air remained.

“I am light I am one too strong to fight. So, go away to where shadows dwell you cannot have this Halliwell.” Paul chanted making the dark smoke disappear out of sight much to everyone’s relief before Eve disappeared within a burst of flames.

“Well that was a very interesting week.” Drake said as he rose to his feet. “Do possessions happen a lot in this family because I have a feeling they do?”

“You have so much more to learn little nephew.” Pan cackled as Paul rushed over to Drake and hugged his son.

“I was so worried I lost you again I never ever want to lose you again!” Paul told his son as he continued to hug Drake tightly.

“Okay but your kind of doing more damaged than the woogy did right now.” Drake replied as he broke off their hug.

“I’m sorry.” Paul apologised before hugging his son once more as Pan and Quinn smiled at each other relieved to know this ordeal was over.

Drake stood in the spare bedroom while looking around the room with inspiration in his eyes as he began to think about all the ways he could decorate it into making it feel like his own bedroom.

“Does this mean your finally moving in?” Quinn asked as he orbed into the room.

“Well after spending a week with woogy I figured Paul and Pan would be less invasive roommates.” Drake replied.

“How are you feeling after everything?” Quinn wondered.

“Shouldn’t you be checking in with the elders they won’t be happy you’ve kept them waiting.” Drake told him.

“I figured checking in with you first is more important.” Quinn replied with a smile on his face.

“When you kissed me the woogy temporary moved out and it was me kissing you back.” Drake revealed to him.

“That’s the real reason I was checking in,” Quinn admitted as he moved closer towards Drake. “Where does that leave us now?”

“You’re a white lighter and I’m a demon it’s forbidden.” Drake answered him before Quinn kissed him on the lips.

“I’d break all the rules just to spend one day with you.” Quinn told him. “Drake I…”

Before Quinn could finish what, he had to say he suddenly felt himself forcefully orbing out of the room leaving Drake not knowing what he was about to say as he was left alone in his new room.

“To be continued I guess.” Drake replied with a sad sigh.

“I’m guessing that bedding is for Drake,” Pan said as she walked out of her room to find Paul stood in the hallway searching through a nearby cupboard where they kept towels and linen. “He said he’d move in, but he didn’t say he was moving in tonight.”

“I know he’s probably not going to move in tonight but I want his room to be ready so he can move in whenever he wants to.” Paul admitted with a sense of excitement in his voice.

“I don’t think you’ve glowed this much in years it’s good to see you happy.” Pan told her older brother. “It’s been too long.”

“No offense but I don’t do old bedding that’s stuffed in some family cupboard I’ll swing by the store later before coming back tonight to change the bed.” Drake said as he walked out of his room and over towards Paul and Pan. “Which brings me to the whole I’m going to need a new bed I get a lot of this place is antiques but antiques aren’t what your looking for when it comes to slumber time.”

“You want to move in tonight?” Pan asked, shocked by Drake’s sudden rush to move in.

“How late is later exactly?” Paul wondered as he closed the cupboard door. “Just so I know when to start cooking dinner.”

“I’m not sure I’ve got to vanquish the source of all evil first then I need to sweet talk Cindy into not firing me, so I’m guess pretty late.” Drake told them both, shocking them even further.

“If your wanting to vanquish your mother after what she’s done that’s understandable but don’t rush into something because your angry in case you wind up regretting it.” Pan replied to her nephew.

“I’m pissed off with her who wouldn’t be in my shoes but deciding to vanquish her isn’t a decision I’m making out of hate because I don’t hate her despite everything I kind of still like her but liking someone doesn’t mean they’re worth being liked.” Drake explain to his father and aunt. “She’s too dangerous to keep alive and it’s my duty to protect the innocent.”

“Vanquishing your mother isn’t going to be easy Drake.” Pan warned him.

“You’re going to need to learn a spell and it requires the power of three.” Paul revealed to his son.

“No worries I already ripped the page with the spell on it out of the book and I’ve been memorizing it since we got back.” Drake admitted much to Paul and Pan’s horror.

“You ripped a page out of the book of shadows?” Pan asked. “We don’t harm the book ever I mean that’s sacrilege!”

“I thought so but it’s pretty funny to see your reactions.” Drake laughed.

“Where are all the other elders?” Quinn asked Paige as the two of them stood within the clouds high above.

“I convinced them to let me deliver the verdict by myself I thought it’d be easier coming from just one of us.” Paige explained to him. “I think you’re doing a great job and you’re going to continue doing a great job it’s just the others don’t agree so much about the charmed ones being the right fit for you and I was out voted on keeping you as their white lighter.”

“This is because of me and Drake isn’t it?” Quinn asked. “He’s a charmed one first and just because he’s part demon doesn’t mean I shouldn’t be allowed to be with him.”

“Trust me when I say I couldn’t agree more with you Quinn but there’s still a lot of archaic angels up here and my work is never done trying to bring them into a more modern way of thinking.” Paige admitted to the white lighter. “I’m sorry but you’re no longer the charmed ones’ white lighter.”

“But I can’t leave them now, I can’t leave him.” Quinn said as tears began forming in his eyes. “I’m in love with him.”

Drake stood within the basement of the Halliwell Manor looking almost reluctant for a second while holding a crystal behind his back as his biological mother Eve appeared into the basement within a burst of flames.

“I’m sorry for taking that approach with you but it truly felt like I had no other choice.” Eve apologised to him.

“I’m an amazing person and I don’t need to change just to be accepted.” Drake told her.

“I do love you for exactly who you are when the woogy was inside you it made me realize just how much I’m glad that you’re nothing like me.” Eve revealed to her son before Drake walked over to her placing the finale crystal in the circle and trapping his mother in the crystal cage by doing so.

“I’m sorry for this I really am but you’re too much of a threat for mum.” Drake said as tears formed in his eyes while Pan and Paul appeared from the top of the stairs and began walking down.

“You’re calling me mum that’s all I ever truly wanted.” Eve cried. “Do what you need to do Drake just know I will never stop loving you and you will always be my son.”

Drake and Eve continued to cry as Pan and Paul reached the bottom of the stairs both grabbing a hold of one of Drake’s hands.

“Are you sure you want to do this Drake?” Pan asked her nephew.

“Goodbye mum!” Drake said to Eve as his voice began to break.

“Goodbye my beautiful boy.” Eve replied.

“Prudence, Piper, Phoebe, Penelope, Patricia, Melinda, Chris, Astrid, Helena, Laura and Grace. Halliwell witches stand strong beside us vanquish the evil through…” The charmed ones began to chant but before they could vanquish Eve, she suddenly blinked out of sight much to their confusion.

“What the hell just happened?” Pan asked them both.

“I have absolutely no idea.” Paul replied.

“You almost found yourself vanquished by the charmed ones after allowing them to rid the woogy from your son if we didn’t pull our powers together in time you would be dead.” One of the three robed triad members said to Eve who appeared in front of them within a blink in the caves of the Underworld.

“Well it’s a good thing I hand picked my new triad very wisely then.” Eve replied to them.

“You should’ve never let it get so close.” Another triad member shouted at the source before removing his hood to reveal himself as Eric Morgan.

“Things aren’t that easy father!” Eve snapped at him. “Having a son who’s a charmed one is bound to complicate some things.”

“Now is not the time to grow sentimental we need Drake on our side whether he wants to be or not especially after dealing with his rather annoying human.” Eric or at least the demon inside of Eric Morgan told his daughter.

“Which human?” Eve asked before realizing. “What did you do to the detective?”

Pan went to knock the door of Lacey’s family home only to be left alarmed after noticing the door was slightly open by itself knowing a detective would never leave their home open especially not her detective she decided to walk into her girlfriend’s home.

“Lacey!” Pan shouted as she walked through the foyer of the Morgan family home only to be left horrified to find Lacey’s lifeless and blood covered body laying on the floor of the living room causing her to scream frantically as she ran over to Lacey, kneeling over and picking up her body into her arms. “No, Lacey you can’t be gone! Lacey!”

Pan continued to scream her girlfriend’s name repeated as she sobbed over the lifeless body of the woman she loved.

[fyodorsuggestions]

Wicked Games

@chuuyasuggestions

Music was sweet, music was life’s heartbeat-beat-beat given voice.

Chuuya was powerful, Chuuya was a blackhole given form and life and love.

Osamu was a Human Wolf, ready to snap up every single morsel of weakness and now, now those predator sharp teeth turn on himself.

They were such a wickedly sharp blade together, this Double Black couple and now the blade chips as it’s broken. There’s something…pathetic about it.

Pathetic in the same way the Red Queen hiccups his sorrow and hisses his hatred. Pathetic in the same way he bleeds sluggishly onto the dirty dirt floor, muddying it all up with mortal ichor. Pathetic in the same way he still begs for the man he loves despite being betrayed by his effigy and his memory over and over again and again.

“Master,” Ivan whispers and it’s quiet, a suggestion instead of a warning which is nice, we prefer those instead don’t we? We prefer suggestions to threats, we prefer calm acknowledgement of current events. Ivan is good at that, good to me-us-we.

“I know.” It’s a sigh because the fun always comes to an end, even when we don’t want it to, though we’ve got many hours more. We’ve had many hours. Hours and hours of breaking the Queen, beheading the Queen and watching the brains and the thoughts and the devotion bleed out of his cracked skull.

Metaphorically of course, ha, we wouldn’t want to split the board, now would we? Wouldn’t want to break the chains and let the Wolf run free, would we?

Still, this is…fun. Delightful even. To watch him, Chuuya, Nakahara. To watch him get his hopes up every time, to watch him tilt and tip his head towards the voice so familiar, to watch him strain against the chains. Weaker than before, weaker each time but still, still fighting the good fight. Delightful as we said, like watching a wingless beetle scuttle around blind and deaf and dumb.

There’s blood on your hands, our hands, yes ours. There’s blood on them, seeping through the bandages that Ivan so lovingly wrapped around them. He needed the blood for his effigies and mock ups, so many of them and all of them beautifully twisted.

….and there goes another, dancing through the room. Dancing to the beat-beat-beat of the…music.

“Chuuya,” she whispers, heartbroken but not sorrow broken, not like him. Her head doesn’t snap up at the voice, a voice that isn’t the Wolf or the captors but his does because he’s well and truly desperate now, isn’t he?

Yes, we think he is. Desperate for a friendly voice, a painless touch, desperate for love and lover. Or well, not exactly lover. Not after every betrayal and every touch that stole the strength from his muscles and charred his bones. He didn’t want Dazai’s voice or his touch, ohhhh no, Chuuya wanted a soothing balm for broken skin not another razor to trim the flesh from the fat.

He wanted…

“Ane-san?”

…a mother’s touch.

We can’t relate except that we do, you do, we. Mamochka’s touch wasn’t something we ever longed for except at the end when she was pale and still on the floor but that was more morbid than desperate so no, we can’t relate. Not to the high pitch tick in Nakahara’s voice, not to the shocked drop of his mouth, not to the tears soaking through the blindfold and streaking down his cheeks.

There’s blood on his face, blood and dirt that’s washed away by the salt water flowing free. It’s a wonder he has tears left, after all the screaming and crying and sobbing as though his heart was being ripped out. Mmm, to have a heart beating in our hand, wet and slick oh wouldn’t that be something? Wouldn’t it be something better to leave the headless Red Queen’s heart in a pretty little box for the Human Wolf to keen over?

Yes, yes that would be…sensually cruel and so perfect, poetic maybe but no. No we can’t, not now at least. There’s more fun to be had from the Headless Queen.

“Chuuya! Dazai! We found him! Recall the teams from the other locations, we found him!”

Truthfully, we don’t know the woman, Kouyou; the big sister of the mafia but we don’t need to know her to use her. Another beautiful puzzle piece in the mosaic of Osamu’s life, another piece he left behind to pursue something greater. She is a powerful one, we can’t deny but easy to manipulate, especially her effigy.

“Kouyou.”

Ivan is good, very good at what he does, and barely needs my prompting. Still, we touch his wrists, we use his hands and conduct this symphony. We are the maestro and the composer of this torture and enjoy every single note we weave through the air, we enjoy the instruments we use and the pain they eek out.

“Dazai! Take the blindfold off, I’ll cut these chains.”

“Of course.”

The Queen doesn’t hesitate and for that I’m proud, proud of the music we’ve woven into his skin and his heart and his mind. Nakahara stiffens, his teeth snap, his head tilts back. Nakahara grits his teeth and turns his head, looking without his eyes for the inhuman monster that stalks through the warehouse. He’s gotten quite good at tracking the footsteps, these footsteps at least, the ones with a distinct clack almost mistakable for claws on wood.

“No.”

A whispered word but no less full of rage.

“No!”

A shouted word and we taste it, oh we do, like silver blood.

“No!”

A scream, a screech and Nakahara’s fighting again, it’s getting quite boring actually. The way he fights and fights and gets nowhere so we change it. We know how this plays out, so we change it.

“Dazai? What are you doing with your gun? I asked you to get the blindfold.”

A double suicide with a beautiful woman, wasn’t that Osamu’s perfect death? Or what he prattled on about to the masses, the skin he wore to blend in with the sheeple? Well this would be more than musical then, this would be poetic and ironic and plainly cruel. Tragic.

“Dazai, let go of my wrist!”

“Ane-san? No!”

This time Nakahara can’t even fight, he’s locked in place by his horror because this isn’t his own personal pain anymore. If only this were his personal pain, something he could grit his teeth against, something he scream to the heavens about then maybe it wouldn’t be as bad. If he were the one being hurt again then it wouldn’t hurt as much, but then that’s the point, isn’t it?

“Dazai what are you doing? Dazai!”

“No! No, please, Ane-san!”

This time Chuuya doesn’t have to fight through the pain of our blood, this time he doesn’t have to come to grips with his husband adding to this torture. That would be entirely too simple and we could be called a one trick pony, which we can’t let happen.

“It’s strange what desire will make foolish people do,” we sing happily as Dazai tears the woman’s hands away from Nakahara’s face.

“No, I don’t want to fall in love,” we hum as Dazai presses his gun to the woman’s head, to her pale pink hair while she stares in shock and Nakahara watches blind.

“What a wicked game to play,” we keep going even though we know the lines are out of order with each other but we don’t care. We care about the music we’re directing with another’s hands, we don’t care about the music falling from our heavy tongue. Everything is hazed and everything is disconnected but not enough to make this any less erotic. Bloodletting and anemia should never good company keep but sometimes needs must and the emotions at war on the Beheaded’s face are needed.

“To make me feel this way,” we say as we rest Dazai’s finger on the trigger, as we cock the gun, as we-he…pulls the trigger.

A gun shot isn’t the loudest noise of the night, not compared to the screams and screeches and shrieks but nothing cuts through the dead silence or the frantic tension like a gun shot. Something so unnatural has a way of commanding attention which is something we’re intimately familiar with, of course.

“Ane-san?”

A shudder rips through us at the naked confusion…no, the childish confusion in Nakahar’s voice. Something so innocent and pure after all the rage and hate and desperate hopelessness. Oh why it’s spectacular. It’s wonderful! It’s fucking beautiful.

“I always preferred double suicide over double black,” Dazai comments idly and reaches down to tap his lover on the forehead, a friendly little touch.

Bang!

“Dazai?”

“Have Yumeno set up the parameter,” we giggle, dizzy from blood loss and high off endorphins as the bodies fall to the ground. There’s no blood to splatter, no blood to scatter, onto more open wounds. Too much and the Queen may fall and we aren’t playing to checkmate only to check.

“And start the preparations for the raid,” we mumble, turning our face towards Goncharov’s chest and glancing at the chained up, bloody Red Queen, “it’s an extermination.”

[canadian-buckbeaver]

An Inky Error - Ch. 3

Time has past since the sole survivor of the Swap! Genocide joined Ink and Error on their quest.  Now he finally has his own...  Can he handle it

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  Stretching, Berry woke slowly, causing his bones to creak and shudder back into place.  As usual he jolted, not immediately recognizing the room.  Once he did, he felt his bones relax, and the cartilage shift.  Yawning, he rubbed the sleep dust from his eye and stared at his orange bracelet.  “MORNING PAPY.” He said.  The bracelet of course, said nothing back to him.  When Berry had come across the dust pile by the stream and his brother’s hoodie, it had unleased memories from the previous resets, unleashing a deep rage within him and causing him to create his own Determination.  He had been hoping that the human would reset, restoring Swapverse for what it was before they slaughtered everyone but, to his dismay he had waited hours but nothing changed.  The human indeed had given up and, perhaps as a last resort, decided against resetting, preventing the return of his beloved brother.

A last, cruel attack.

He had almost fallen when Ink and Error had come across him and now, now he was better.  Although it wasn’t the best time in his life (those times would always be reserved for when he was with Papy), it wasn’t the worst.  Ink and Error had been training in Core Frisk’s mission and, so far he was really enjoying it.  Preventing what happened to him with other monsters was a cause worthy of the Royal Guardsman-to-be….

… like he would ever be able to become a Royal Guardsman now.

Shaking his head, he gathered his wits again.  He couldn’t afford to think like that.  Negatively, hard on himself, etc.  Ink and Error were counting on him to be his very best, especially with Ink being so far along in his pregnancy they had to be even more careful.  One small hit and he could lose the baby.  That wasn’t an option.

Jumping out of the bed, he quickly straightened the covers and stretched again.  Ink and Error had been able to pull some of his things from his universe and make up a quick bedroom for him.  He much appreciated having a little bit of home with him but, it still wasn’t the same.

As he jogged into what they had dubbed the ‘Control Room’, he realized that there was a strange glow coming from the room.  Perring in cautiously, he almost gasped out loud.  There, sitting on one of the chairs in the room was a pale girl.  The colours were dully muted and the eyes were blank and dark.  This must have been the Core Frisk that they were talking about.  As he watched she gave a quick nod and disappeared from the room.  She could teleport?  He watched a little longer as Ink and Error anxiously talked amongst themselves quietly.  They looked extremely worried.

Finally he chose to enter the room.  “HEY GUYS!” he cheerfully cried out.  “GOOD MORNING!”  He gave a gentle hug to Ink but avoided Error.  Error had made it clear that, unless he was Ink, there was a no touching rule.  Berry respected that.  Papy had made it clear that there were some people, like himself, that enjoyed hugs and touching, and others, like Error and Grillby, who preferred not to be touched, and he had to respect that.  He backed away from the couple.  “SO.  WHAT ARE WE DOING TODAY?  ANOTHER MISSION?” he asked.

Ink and Error looked at each other, talking to each other without words, and looked back at him.  “Yes, but you should probably stay here…” began Ink.

Berry instantly began to pout.  “WHAT?  NO WAY.  WHY?”

“Well… it involves you and… and Underswap in a way.”  Ink said, looking at Error, unsure on how to proceed.  Berry began to quiver a bit in anticipation.  This must be something big.  He had to be a part of this!

Luckily Error took over.  “y-You s-s-ssee Berry,” he said, “t-TH-there is a CON-nstellation th-THAT h-has c-C-c-cauSed a LOT of is-issue-ISSUES with C-C-cCore Frisk…” he paused to pull up the computer screen, showing a star map.  “B-b-Berry, meet the-THE Beaver constellation.”

Berry looked at the groupings of stars.  It did faintly look like a beaver but it was always sort of hard to tell with stars.  It would have been a lot clearer for his brother…  He trusted on what Ink and Error said though.  “OK…” he said hesitantly.

Ink and Error looked at each other, and this time it was Error the one to shrug.  Ink sighed.  “Well we might as well just spit it out.  You know how a lot of these stars write either different timelines or relationships?” Ink asked while Berry nodded.  “Well, these stars specialize in writing the pairing called ‘Edgeberry’, which there is an Underfell Papyrus, paired with an Underswap Sans…” Ink said, pausing to allow Berry to absorb this information.

The blue skeleton blinked a little in confusion, before looking back at the stars.  He had seen this type of pairing before in timelines though he hadn’t known the specific ‘ship’ name for it.  Not that he had a problem with it, to each their own opinions, it was just he had usually seen most writers pan off and write other pairings or stories, or move on to different subjects.  Not just continuously write the same couple, over and over again.  “OK… PLEASE, PLEASE GO ON.  TELL ME MORE,” he said again, urging Ink to continue.  He could feel himself trembling.  This was something big.  Something good.  Something where he would be at least be able to contribute something real to the group.  Not just ‘pretend’ as he had felt for so long.

Ink nodded.  “Well, there is one specific trilogy that Core!Frisk has a problem with.”  Ink keyed in a command on the computer so a specific star trail was shown on the monitor.  The lead star was a deep blood red colour, odd for a star, and alarmingly had black cracks through it and the end, just as disturbing.  “This star trail in the Beaver timeline, it is known as ‘Fell’s Invasion’.  Long story short, and no spoilers for the story in case the author finds out what we are planning, Underfell invades Underswap, and a lot of serious trouble ensues.  Core!Frisk has seen into the author’s mind and does not like where the story is headed.  She wants us to enter the story and change the plot, change its ending.”  Ink said.

Error turned to Berry.  “D-d-DOEs th-that make s-s-s-s-Sense?” he asked.

“SO, JUST TO MAKE SURE THAT I HAVE THIS CORRECT, CORE!FRISK WANTS US TO CHANGE AN AUTHOR’S STORY LINE?  CHANGE EVERYTHING?” he asked.  Error and Ink nodded encouragingly.  They knew that Berry would understand.  “BUT… BUT WHY?” asked Berry.  “INK, YOU’VE SAID IT TO ME BEFORE THAT CREATIVITY IS ONE OF THE MOST IMPORTANT TALENTS THAT ANYONE CAN PROCESS.  WHY DO WE WANT TO INFLUENCE IT OURSELVES?  DOESN’T THAT GO AGAINST YOUR VALUES?” he asked.

Ink looked from Berry, to Error and back down to his small belly, looking anxious.  He had known that this question was coming.  He still didn’t have a good answer for it though.  “Normally yes,” he said, “but Core!Frisk was scared.  She could not give all the details, but could tell us that there would be something terrible happening to Alphys, Papyrus, Sans, and many other monsters if we did not stop this author.”

Berry froze.  “SOMETHING… SOMETHING HAPPENS… TO THIS PAPYRUS?” he asked.  In that single instant his mind was flooded with images.  His older brother feeding, bathing and playing with him as a baby bones.  Paps and himself pretending to be members of the Royal Guard as children.  When Gaster fell into the Void, Paps bravely telling him to stay strong, that he would always look after him.  His brother, always sleeping, tired from working three jobs to keep the house, clothing on them and keep food in the fridge.  The constant sacrifices that his brother made for him.  The memory of his brother being cut down still blazed fresh in his mind.  Determination began to build and well within him.  He had to stop another Sans from undergoing the same pain that he did. It was his duty.  He survived the genocide run and knew the pain of being forced to live without the one he loved most.  He would prevent that from happening again, he swore.

Ink and Error looked at one another, once again silent words passing between them.  Berry looked at them with slight irritation and pouted slightly.  It wasn’t fair that they were able to do that.  How was he supposed to convince them if he didn’t know what the argument was?  It was like he was fighting blind!

Ink and Error tore their eyes away from one another and looked at Ink’s stomach, the small multi-coloured heart just shining through his tunic, the smallest hill in the tunic.  The worried looks on their skulls said enough.  Ink needed rest.  This would only stress the baby, Paperjam, out, making the pregnancy even more difficult than it already was.

Ink and Error turned back to Berry. “Fine… this once.  In and out.”  Ink said.  “As a Swap skeleton you’ll draw the least amount of attention anyways…”

Berry could hardly hold back his excitement!  Finally!  Something real!  He could help!  Maybe Ink and Error would finally see how useful he actually was and have him do more…

Ink and the baby needed to be protected, meaning that Ink was off duty, confined to rest and ‘light’ work until he gave birth, and Error couldn’t go alone.

This is just what he wanted… what he needed!  He needed to be helpful, have a couple adventures. Finally… finally he felt like his life had purpose again.  He would make this constellation-author rue the day that she ever started to write this story!  Make her cure the day that she ever thought of doing something, anything to the Swap!Papyrus and Sans here.  After all, if Core!Frisk was involved… it had to be something big.  Something bad.

Yes.  Yes he would stop this madness.  He would make his brother proud of him… his sacrifices would not be in vain.

* * * * *

When Berry stepped through the portal he was stunned.  It was almost exactly like his Snowdin.  From the position of Muffet’s café, to the great tree in the middle of the town, it looked the same.  Except… Berry quickly dived behind a nearby trash can and watched as two darkly armoured guards strode by him, both without a care in the world.  Those guards he had never seen in his Underswap.  They had to be of Underfell.  Berry gulped, watching as they walked away, talking animatedly towards the other.  They looked so strong, the tendons and muscles swelling in their arms were a prime example. The weapons that they carried, those looked positively deadly though his Alphys would know more about them.  And then, there was that… that aura that they gave off…

It radiated pure evil…

Berry gulped.  Maybe he had made a mistake. Maybe he wasn’t as ready for this mission as he had thought himself.  But no.  Ink and Error – those two were counting on him!  And, if he did this right, the next time that Dream!Sans came over, he would have an adventure to tell him…  And then there was his and this universe’s Papyrus…. he had to finish this.  He owed it to him in the way.  So, it was for everyone that he would finish this.  For their sakes he would continue on.

He had to stop this evil Beaver.  No excuse!

Creeping through the town was slower than he had thought it would be.  Although he had the so-called ‘hometown advantage’ there were the Underfell guards everywhere.  He was forced to take detour after detour, hide again and again.  Soon he was exhausted, small beads of sweat dripping into his sockets and his unneeded breaths came in small huffs… and he hadn’t even reached where he was supposed to yet.  This was stupid, he realized.  He should have gotten more information from Ink and Error, or they from Core!Frisk.  How was he supposed to stop the author and their plans for Papyrus if he didn’t know what these plans were?  He could be making his way through Snowdin for nothing.  This was ridiculous!

Another trio of guards walked right in front of Berry, for the moment not seeing him.  They seemed engrossed in one of the guard’s stories. He looked to be a type of dog, though not one that he had seen in his universe, holding a small, dark trident.  As Berry silently panicked he heard the guard tell the others about the Swap!Rabbit that he had just dusted, in gross, disgustingly vivid detail.

Finally gathering his senses he ducked into another alley, panting, and just dodging yet another group of guards.  Grumbling he turned…

And felt his soul freeze in his rib cage.

There, laying on the ground of the alley, was a little blue skeleton, obviously himself but of this universe.  There was no mistaking the blue battle body and homemade bandana.  This Sans looked terrified, his blue eye lights not stars or heart shaped, but wide and frightened.  There was a red scarf tied around his jaw, killing any sounds that he might have made.  A large red, gloved hand pined both his wrists to the ground, the other gently stroking his arm and leg bones as the owner, a tall, jagged skeleton hovered over him, a greedy look etched deeply into his damaged skull…

Berry stared for a second, transfixed by what he was seeing.  How could the author imagine this?  No… this was Underswap!  Nothing bad would to it on his watch.  Berry would ensure of that.  Ripping his eyes away from the terrifying sight, he ran.  He ran down the street feeling a familiar stinging in his eye lights.  No.  No!  He wouldn’t cry!  That is what this author, this disgusting universe wanted.  He had survived losing his brother, he would survive this.  Not just survive, he would win this game!

Spinning around another corner he saw it.  That familiar orange pullover.  The thick smell of cigarette smoke.  Papyrus?  Another memory flooding back to him, he saw himself in a familiar scene, leaping into his brother’s arms.

But… this wasn’t HIS brother he remembered just in time.

The Sans in the alley, this was his brother.

… Perfect…  He not only was the stronger, more magically trained of them in this universe, but he was Sans’ brother.  Nothing would stop him from protecting his brother.  Not a guard and not a sword.  He would save this Sans.  From anything, no matter the cost.

Rushing in front of the surprised skeleton, Blue grabbed the front of the front of the pullover, yanking the taller down to his level.  As black irises stared into his own, the speech that Berry had planned, faded into nothing.  “PAPYRUS, YOUR BROTHER’S BEING KIDNAPPED! OKAY! BYE!” Immediately releasing the too-familiar cloth, he ran down the street that he had just came from.  It took only a second but he could hear the sound of echoing footsteps behind him.  This other Papyrus was just like his after all.  Risking everything to rescue his brother.  Berry began to summon his magic, feeling it tickle across his bones, cascading through his joints…

He prayed to the stars and the angel that this world did not end up like his world.  Dead, dusted, lifeless and alone…  It deserved better than that.

He teleported then, feeling the familiar yank of the shortcut.  Hiding in the trees outside of Snowdin he sighed in relief as he felt a loosening of something in the atmosphere.  Telling Papyrus about the other Sans’ predicament… it must have changed something.  Clicking a few buttons on his cell phone, he summoned the portal, and he stepped through.  He had a feeling that Beaver wouldn’t be much trouble anymore.

* * * * *

Error and Ink watched in astonishment as the tail of stars belonging to ‘Invasion’ flickered for a second and then dimmed.  As Berry came through they surrounded him, erupting into cheers and hugging him.

“y-Y-y-oU D-did it!” Error exclaimed, rubbing the top of his skull lightly.

“We never had any doubts!” Ink shot back, holding Berry in a deep and close hug.  Berry smiled as he felt Paperjam’s little soul buck against him.  

He could even feel his brother’s smile.  He had made him proud… he had saved someone else from suffering the same fate of him.  He would be taken seriously.  This was far more important than any position of the Royal Guards.  He felt…

There was a small ding on Error’s computer.  Ink, Error and Berry froze, turning to stare at the star-filled screen.  The beaver’s constellation flickered and then shone, more brilliant then before.  Before their very sockets, the starry trail of ‘Invasion’ flared to life again. There was some differences to them.  A couple stars had seemed to be burned out but there was still that dreaded path.  And as they watched, more stars flickered to life.

“WHAT DOES IT MEAN?  ERROR?” Berry asked, scared.  He should have known it was too easy of a fix.  Simply forcing that world’s Papyrus to step in?  What was he thinking?

“T-they m-M-made a n-n-New trail…”  Error said.  “Th-THE au-auth-or i-i-IS goi-GOING ah-ahead with the-THE-the story…”  Error turned back to the other skeletons.  “WE didn-DIDN’t sto-STop TH-them…”

Ink looked fearful.  This had never happened before.  Core!Frisk had said too that they were sure that if the one part of the storyline was ruined that they would give it up, let the two universes live in peace.

But obviously they weren’t counting on Beaver’s determination to continue through with this hell.

Berry stepped forward.  “Don’t look so glum guys.  You have me!  And I won’t quit until I know that the other me and his brother are safe and sound, safe from Beaver’s clutches!”

For all his brave words, he looked over at the tourtured star.  How many more times would he have to travel?  And would he help Ink and Error be successful in their quest?

And so their brave but rather fruitless quest began.  For ever plan and plot that Error, Ink and Berry discovered and foiled, the author always had a another leading to the same end point.  Berry becoming more and more determined that this Swap brotherly duo stay together, and Ink becoming further and further along in his pregnancy while Error worried over the both of them.

The author seemed content too, to play goddess from afar.  She toyed with them.  Sent them one way, and then another.  Kept them guessing to what her next scheme was.

And their endless games continued on until, at long last, Fell met the courageous threesome…

And Ink suffered for it.

[spaghettiappletater]

The Seventh Soul

He'd hesitated long enough, having spent almost an entire day stalling just outside the barrier after shortcutting his way past Undyne and her guards. The doubt in his soul started small but by the time he finally stepped through it had almost consumed him, causing his head to ache from spine to shatter. The bits of humanity inside him had made him stronger for sure, but they'd also made him weaker, in a way. Maybe he should have expected them to be waiting just there on the other side but he hadn't. The two nearly collided, Sans' head ducked and covered by his hood, several layers of clothing concealing his broken form from full view. He thought he'd have to go a bit further into human territory after all, and they wouldn't have reacted well to a bloodstained skeleton waltzing around.

They had stood there, at the barrier, for a while.  It wasn't exactly the right place to enter in from, but it wasn't the wrong place either.  Besides, it was kind of an interesting place to stare and think and ... be indecisive. Frisk hadn't changed too much.  Taller, maybe a little more gaunt and scrawny.  Lots of sleepless nights, it looked like.  The kid wasn't really a kid anymore, but they didn't look ready to be an adult either.  Some overlarge striped sweater ( though not in blues or purples ) with its own hood that knocked itself back from their head upon collision with ... 'Sans'. "O-oh excuse me, I'm -- ..."  They paused in the midst of their apology, taking in the bundled appearance of who they'd run into.

"hhhhh eh heh heh..." Normally the surprise contact would have sent him right over the edge without second thought but needless to say he was more than a little bit absorbed in his own thoughts. The inner struggle only raged harder when he realized who he was looking at, that he wouldn't have time to watch them and steel his nerves before making his move. What took them so long? His eye socket twitched and his fingers clenched inside the pockets of his jacket. "well look who it is. took ya long enough, kid. you're eleven years and several months behind schedule. sup with that?"

Frisk blinked and -- tipped their head to one side, taking a step or two back to give the skeleton some space.  They didn't look scared, maybe nervous.  They figured there shouldn't be anything too different or wrong, but that ... there was definitely something different and wrong. "I don't really have an excuse, I guess.  Did you ... did you get my messages?  I left a few.  This phone is about eleven years old though, so it might not have -- ..."  They fished in their pocket for their phone for a moment.  It's the same old thing Toriel had given them forever ago, with the upgrades Alphys had put on it as well.  Even so, its casing was old and cracked in places, dented, worn, dusty and faded where color would have been.  Its screen was cracked and a lot of the buttons were worn down. "I was ... in the hospital, the entire time, just about."

"got a few. enough. or maybe not enough at all." The sound of the skeleton's voice was a little bit different too. His throat sounded wet and raw. Could skeletons get colds? Then there was that metallic creak every time he moved a shoulder. After so much time, though, maybe they'd simply misremembered him. Had he grown a little too? "sounds like... we've got some catchin' up to do, huh? c'mere. sit down. there are some things i need you to understand."

With a little gesture to a nearby rock they'd been sitting and stalling at before, Frisk moved, taking a seat and pocketing the old phone.   Shoving their hands into their jean pockets, the human waited and listened, eyebrows furrowed.  A lot of their face was still the same, maybe a bit less of the childish baby-fat and slightly more pronounced facial structure.

"I'd -- like to know what happened.  Something feels very different, but ... for a long time I had people telling me that none of what I remembered was real to begin with?  So I don't quite feel like I'm remembering everything the right way anyway."

The monster took a seat on a rock as well, taking a moment to look up at the sky before returning his attention to Frisk. He'd never seen the sky in his own timeline, at least not that he could recall. There was something, a distant memory, perhaps, or just feedback. It felt familiar somehow but too far away to really pin down. "kid, i dunno where to start. so i guess i'll say it's a damn good thing i ran into you on your way in. undyne claimed the throne, ya see, and she's not at all pleased about whatcha did to asgore. he was the closest thing she had to a dad guy, ya know. really went downhill without him. you think she was scary before? hoo. she's big on the idea of human genocide these days." Sans had no idea that it was actually Flowey who was to blame for the late King's death, nor did anyone else.

"I didn't-- ... I - ..."  There was really no use in it, was there?  Frisk cut themself off, glancing down at the ground.

"That old fellow in Waterfall told me Asgore knew her when she was really little, and taught her how to fight, and -- ..."  Frisk sighed.  Guilt ( even if it was more or less inapplicable in this case ) pooled in their stomach, and they pulled one hand out of their pockets to tug the striped hood over their head, huddling against the rock face behind them.

"K-keep going?"

"mmm. toriel was supposed to be the new queen, but undyne wasn't having that. said she was too soft. scared her back off to the ruins and didn't take kindly to it when i stood up to her either. she pooled all of our resources for the royal guard and made our military the top priority. left the rest of us without much to scrape by on. even my brother wants out of the guard at this point, but undick ain't having it. we're not on the best terms. i kinda want her dead." He put an elbow on his knee and rested his chin on his hand, fingers longer, sharper and dirtier than before for sure, but it was dark, concealing the extent of those cracks and claws. "now you tell me somethin'. i don't wanna sit here and monologue all night by myself."

"I remember a big rumble almost as soon as I left through the barrier.  It made the whole mountain shake, and -- honestly, I fell not too far from here, where we're sitting, I think.  At least, that's ... what I was told?  When I woke up.  I spent a lot of time in physical therapy, trying to get some strength and mobility back.  I had a lot of people tell me none of this was real, when I tried to explain why I was on the mountain in the first place.  Nobody came back to claim me, or help me." Frisk kicked a pebble off the ground and it scattered, like a mockery of a soccer ball, over toward Sans.   "I don't know why they didn't just pull the plug.  Sometimes I kind of wish they had?"

"you know, somebody told me it was probably something like that. they must really care about you, for some reason. i guess nobody's completely alone in the world." He scuffed his shoe, more concealing than his usual slippers, along the ground and knocked the rock back. "what you heard was the core melting down. i was gonna get to that in a minute but i might as well tell ya now. there was nothing anybody could do. it wiped out more than half the population. made the rest of us really sick. nothing grows in the underground anymore that doesn't do more harm than good."

For a moment, Frisk looked sick.  Their expression twisted and both hands yanked out of their pockets to hide their face and rub at it.  A shuddering little groan and a shiver was more than enough reaction to the news.

They hadn't gone through the Underground wantonly murdering, not like in a lot of the dreams they'd had.   A few, here and there.  One or two, maybe three, but only when it looked like it was absolutely hopeless -- and they'd felt sick about it every time.

After a moment, they croaked a few words. "S-sorry.  I-- I meant to go back.   I d-did, I could have-- ..."

"yeah. i know you could have. i don't remember how i know. see, i've got this real bad..." Twitch. "...memory loss problem these days. i get confused easy. thinking clearly? it just... doesn't happen. but i know it wasn't supposed to be like this. we just missed our happy ending, didn't we? i think you know that somehow too." There was a wheeze, more pathetic than threatening, as he pushed the hood down off his skull with a quick, almost dismissive bat of his hand. "i don't think i actually lived through all a that, kiddo. but being made of magic? kinda blurs that line. i guess what i wanna know is... what do you think you can do about it now? cause i think it's too late."

Sitting there, and possibly getting any kind of look at the human's soul, was difficult.  It certainly wasn't the blazing, determined red that it once was.   Something lighter, a little more on the orange side, but not orange either.  It lacked deep color, and looked faded, weak.  Mostly, it burned with remorse, and maybe a touch of perseverance. "I can't go back anymore.  I tried so many times, in therapy."  They muttered, kicking the pebble back at Sans.  They lifted their head to look at the skeleton in the dark, staring, sighing. "I can try again, right now, if you want.  I don't know.  I thought maybe if I got close, or if I came back and could see for myself that all of this is very real, maybe I'd -- ..."

"you're not as scared as i thought you'd be." The skeleton squinted at them, smile spreading wider. He felt the sting of pride in his own soul, chipped, veiny and rotting, more grey than cyan with tiny streaks of sickly yellow stretching from the core outward. Their soul, however, was no longer what he hoped it would be. "would you believe in me if the roles were reversed? i don't know if you can improve things around here anymore, but i know that, with one more human soul, i could. things aren't gonna go back to the way they were before but i could at least stop the corruption from spreading. a couple hundred years down the line maybe the underground would be habitable again." He gave them a moment to think before continuing. "what did you think? this probably isn't what you expected, is it?"

"I don't know what I was expecting."  Frisk said, still staring.  The nervousness that gripped them at the first initial bump into the skeleton had simmered down to what ... felt like acceptance.  Like a kind of ... inevitability.  Did they trust Sans?  They had before, as far as they could recall.  Bits of ... silly memory, weird things, -- "I can't do anything.  I dropped down into the Underground for a reason, and wasn't expecting to live through it.  I don't have a reason to go back to where I came from, either.  I guess -- ..."  Frisk held up a hand, cutting themself off, dark circles under their eyes. "Before you do, you deserve to know some truths, if -- ... if you want to hear them."

"yeah.  i think we owe each other the full truth. i'll hear ya out. i did care aboutcha, ya know. maybe a parta me still does. unfortunately, i don't think i'm ever gonna be able to let this one go. i'm not a very good person anymore. saying that i'm bitter? that'd be the understatement of the decade." It was almost alarmingly easy for him to trust them, at least to trust them not to run or to attack him unprompted. Did he think they could handle what the underground had become? No. But did he believe that they had good intentions now that he saw what the passing years had done to them? Yes.

"I -- ... cared about all of you, too."  They muttered, head lowered, eyes on the ground. "There was -- ... a flower.  It killed Asgore.  I don't know if it's still in the underground after what happened, but it might be.  It had the power to reset before I came along.  I'm sure you -- you know what resetting is, I think.  If you don't, you should.  Determination gives the power to reset, and whoever's determination is strongest has that power.  He had it before I came along, I think." Frisk looked up from the ground to stare at Sans.  "I don't think it'll make a difference to Undyne, but -- ... it matters to me.  I had to tell someone."  The human stared for a moment. "You've -- you should be careful with all those souls, too.  I think it's ... kind of a corruptive power, but you're already plenty ... maybe not corrupted, but ... I guess you did say you're not a good person."

"so you noticed. yeah. i didn't wanna get this desperate, but i figured, we were already desperate enough to start eating the people who fell into the underground after you. why not give it a shot? how much worse could it get, really?" He stared back, unblinking with his hollowed socket and bright, angry red eye. "a flower. yeah. i remember something about that. something... hey, believe it or not? i think the souls helped. i feel more than i did before. my own soul wasn't doing so hot." There was a brief pause as he wiped a stream of sweat from the unbusted side of his skull. "downside to feeling so much is that i'm torn now. i only need one more, and now i'm stalling? what are you waiting for you dumb stupid fuck?"

Staring at that bright red eye, Frisk tilted their head.  "You might be able to do something with whatever's left of my determination.  You -- ... seem pretty determined, yourself.  Even if it's just a determination to survive.  That counts for something."  They stood, and their hands pulled from their pockets to hang their arms at their sides. "Do ... you shouldn't wait.  It only gets harder the longer you wait.  If you want, I could -- ... I get violent, sometimes, when things get really foggy.  If you want, I could ... I don't know.  Could do something, make you defend yourself.  It'll feel less terrible."

"ya know, you sound almost like you wanna die. that makes it harder to wanna kill you, somehow, so... sure. if that's how we're gonna do it, i guess you could attack me. thing is, i was expecting a lot more determination. i'm not even sure if it's worth it anymore." The monster finally blinked, eye sockets falling and mouth curling into that smug grin he always wore when he felt he was shining light on a situation. "if you've got it in you to try and kill an old friend... well i guess i'd owe you one, kid."

"You know, it's -- ... odd.  I only ever feel determined like this anymore.  And even then, it's never enough."  Taking a glance about, Frisk reached for a large stone, boney fingers only just grasping over it. "What do you mean, you'd owe me one?"  They asked, looking over the rock before staring back at Horror.

"i mean one of us has to take that dive, right? somebody has to get violent first. if it was you? i could stop stalling." He glanced between the rock and it's wielder. It hardly seemed like an adequate weapon, but then again, they'd made effective use of all sorts of silly things when they were smaller. "you can't reset anymore huh? figured as much. i guess we're both in the same kinda pickle."

"I could just start crying.  Crying gets on my nerves.  I want to make it stop, when I hear it.  You ever feel that way?"  They asked, turning the rock over in their hands.

"Alternatively, I could bash my own head in with this.  You wouldn't have to lift a finger.  I don't particularly like the idea of you killing things.  Or anyone killing things."

"actually, i'd rather not witness another suicide. i'd rather kill you myself than watch you try to do it with a rock. i'm not sure what makes the difference there but it's something. as for crying, i'm not sure. i teeter between really enjoying it and getting pissy about it. it's kinda messed up." Stalling. Stalling. Stalling. "...it's usually easy, but i've lost a lotta friends. i kinda blamed you for it. papyrus told me that was silly, and that you'd come back. he'd... really like to see you, i think. he got long."

They had been trying not to think about Papyrus, or what all of this might have done to him. "... I'll be honest.  I was kind of hoping he was someone who didn't make it.  I don't want to think about -- ..."  There was a little sniffle there, and Frisk's vision finally blurred.  At least it brought a measure of relief to the lump in their throat.

"M'sorry.  This is stupid.  Just do it -- just do it and don't tell him about me.  If you can just -- ... maybe you can do something good.  Or at least ... marginally good compared to what's been done to the both of you."

"ugh. i wish you'd just screamed or something. made it easy. it's too late now, i know it wouldn't be sincere. if it makes you feel any better? papyrus hasn't changed all that much. he's just bigger. still a goofball, still a good person... or maybe i'm delusional. i don't think i could see my brother as a bad person no matter what he did. so, here's an idea." He stood from the rock he was sitting on and got to his knees, stretching his arms out toward the human with his eye turned down toward the rocky ground, avoiding looking at their tears at all costs. "c'mere, kiddo. death doesn't have to be the end, right? this way, you can stay with us. i uhh... i just wanna take you home. we'll look at it that way?"

They'd had dreams about this.  A hug, and then it all ended into some nice, quiet, comforting nonexistence.  Can nonexistence be comforting?

Regardless, physical affection sounded nice.  Too nice.  So nice.  They couldn't have resisted the call even if Sans had been made of sharp knives.  Scooting forward, Frisk dropped down and got close, pulling their arms around the skeleton's shoulders.  Hiding their face on his shoulder, Frisk said utterly nothing, but seemed ... relaxed.  At ease.

The end was quick, sharp and relatively painless. Sans figured it was nothing next to the pain he now understood both of them to have endured, at least. Spikes of bone rose and fell, rose and fell, targeting their brain and heart first. That wasn't at all how it had played out in his head, but he had been delusional. A fool, he figured, desperate for a scapegoat. Their soul was soon pulled from the remaining gore. His head hurt worse than ever, stomach churning despite the fact that he had nothing that even resembled one anymore. He tucked it under his coat and sweater, through his ribs and next to his own, away from the others. The others were of no real importance to him, tools and nothing more. “i hope you can still hear me. the others won't talk to me. no surprise there. ...we're basically god now, right? that's how it's supposed to work.”

The human slumped, body instantly shutting off with the hit to the brain and heart.  They didn't have much in the way of defenses, or healthy blood pressure, or anything like that -- a few weak spurts here and there, but mostly a great deal of lazy rolling and thick red welling in places and dripping.  Not much muscle or fat to tear through to get their soul, either.  Bones snapped like brittle candy. Confusion registered from the soul at the question.  Then warmth.  It felt oddly warm, content.  “Good. Be careful what you do.  I've seen them act against their user.  It's what they did to the flower.  The only reason I survived him.”

“i'm not keeping them long. just you. the others are gone as soon as i fix the core.” The warmth felt nice. Hearing their voice inside his skull made him feel much better about rifling through their belongings than he would have otherwise. Shame he put holes in their sweater. Oh well. He took it anyway. He'd wear it too. It seemed baggy and he wasn't as round as he used to be. “if you wanna stay with me, i mean. guess i couldn't blame you if you wanted to try moving on instead once this is done.”

“I feel alright here.  At least for now.  Not feeling tired is nice.  Maybe it'll help you.  Thank you for making it quick.  I don't know why I was scared.”

[muskycat]

UnderLate. Broken Fate. Chapter 6

Undyne was tired of knocking at the door of the house, from afar she had seen him come in, there was no escape for him or for the human. She still couldn’t believe that Papyrus had attacked her for defending the human, even with blue bones that didn’t hurt her. "I'm tired, Papyrus. If you do not open me, I’ll do it myself.” Undyne leaned back, raising a hand and summoning her spear. She was about to throw it to break the door into a thousand pieces when it opened, with the wrong brother. "What the hell?" Sans's eyes became instantly empty eyes sockets, “You call my brother and wait for him with a spear?” "I ... this is not what it seems, Sans," Undyne said, cursing. "Explain," he said, “And you better be convincing.” "Your brother got in my way when ..." "Uhm ... bad start, Undyne.” “Shit” Undyne cursed, she didn’t know how to deal with that skeleton when he took that creepy form. Where was the lazy and apathetic Sans of before, of which you could only fear to stumble with him while sleeping on the floor? These last years had changed a lot, he was just as lazy but also more aggressive. Usually that liked Undyne but not when she started to feel his Gaster Blaster behind her and his sinister smile in front of her. Why did she relate to such weird people?, “You don’t understand Sans, I don’t look for him. I want the human who protects.” "Human?” His weapon disappeared, and his eyes returned, to Undyne's delight. Although her happiness didn’t last long when she saw how her left eye had blue flashes. “Sans ...” "Is Frisk in my house?" "How do you know her name?" But before finishing the sentence, Sans was gone. And the road was unlocked. Sans teleported to his brother's room, never used to do it out of respect for his privacy, but this time he wasn’t for jokes. He'd been waiting too long for this, about seven years to be exact. Someone owed him too much explanations and he was going to take them out by force. “Brother!” Papyrus stood by the closet, meditative, when Sans made his appearance, “What happen?” “Where is?” Without giving him time to respond, he pushed his brother away and opened the closet door. But there was no one, “Damn it, where is she, Papyrus?” “Sans, you're scaring me. What happens to you? You're strange.” "How could you bring her? To our house? To ... to your room? Are you crazy, Papyrus?” "Frisk is not bad, even if it's human," Papyrus said, trying to convince him. He had also seen the bright eye of his brother and when it appeared that something bad was going on in his head. Almost always a threat to any of the two, “She wouldn’t hurt us. I wanted to introduce you, I thought we could protect her from Undyne and ...” "The human is mine, do not intrude, Sans!” Undyne was not far behind, in two strides she had climbed the stairs, joining the family reunion, with the metallic noise of her armor. But up there were only the brothers, “Where is?” "Away from here," said Papyrus, looking at the two alternately, “Can you tell what happens to you both? Are you really capable of sacrificing an innocent soul by coming to the surface? I also want to go out but ... not worth it. Not at the cost of becoming barbarians.” "You're wrong, Paps," Sans said, closing his eyes for a moment, “She isn’t innocent. But her destiny isn’t to be delivered to Asgore either. Nobody knows you like me so I know where she is. "No ... You don’t know.” "Yes, I know, brother." Sans winked, “There's nothing like home, right? This time she isn’t going to escape. . She failed to comply with a promise long ago, breaking another made for her. Who creates this chaos without reason ... deserves a bad time. And I'm anxious to give it to her.” Enigmatic as usual, Sans disappeared again, this time from the house. It was time to return to the door that had changed the fate of all monsters. It was time to confront Frisk. ** Frisk had to stop for air. The night was dark enough, the light from the magic crystals was minimal, but she had to keep going. Things had gone wrong with that crazy Undyne, with how beautiful the trip had been. And had she been a friend of Papy? Well, they didn’t look anything like that. Fortunately, she hadn’t felt the presence of that strange being in the forest, despite being already so close to the door. A few more meters and she would go back to her house, to her bed. Toriel still would not be awake and the only proof of her escape would be the bone that Papyrus had given her and which she carried in her hand as a defense. A familiar noise gave way to another familiar figure who emerged from the earth in front of her. “Frisk?” Flowey looked as if he saw a ghost. Frisk bent down to see him, getting a little closer to his height. "Flowey!" Frisk hugged him as best she could, he didn’t look very happy, so she gave him a tender kiss on the forehead, “ I'm glad to see you!” "What ... what are you doing here?" Said the flower, surprised by the kiss, although he was already accustomed to the girl's lust for affection. But seeing her in Snowdin left him speechless. When he wasn’t in the Ruins, he used to be in the snowy area. He had heard a lot of hustle and bustle. Although he used to not interfere, this time Flowey had gone to see who was running around at that time ... but wasn’t expected to Frisk. "Come on, it's been a little getaway. Snowdin is very huge and Waterfall, I love the environment, Napsti doesn’t do it justice. Although it is smaller.” “What ... you went to Waterfall?” "Napstablook lives there, silly. I have given him back his net. Why are you so weird?” “You…you” Flowey couldn’t stand it anymore, one of his most terrifying faces came to light, next to his dark voice made Frisk back,” You're an idiot, Frisk! Have you really put yourself at risk for a stupid network? If you have so much desire to die tell me, I would have been faster.” “But, Flowey…” “No, don’t answer me, silly girl” 'The anger was growing more and more, “And now you want to go back? Really? Don’t you know? If you weren’t so stupidly stupid, I could have told you or Toriel. That door, which separates your beloved and safe house from this hell is a single direction.” “What?” Said Frisk, covering her mouth, “What does that mean?” "It means you're not going to see your mother again and you're going to die here alone. Because you couldn’t settle for what you had. Aren’t the Ruins enough for you? Haven’t I been enough, Frisk?” Flowey was very angry, he knew what it could mean for the girl to go into the underground. He didn’t want her to be put in danger, less alone, so he didn’t control his emotions or worry about the girl's feelings. Frisk looked in front of her, the door was so close, but now that she knew the truth, that she couldn’t cross it, that Undyne would find her ... Frisk collapsed, falling to her knees in the cold snow and covering her face. "What have I done?" Tears began to trickle down her cheeks, “Mom ... I'm sorry ... I'm sorry, Flowey, I ...” "Frisk, no." Flowey relaxed his face, but the girl kept crying, “Please stop. It’s very uncomfortable.” "It's all my fault," she said in hiccups. “I've screwed up. I just want to go home.” "Come on, relax." Flowey thought something, had to be quick. They must leave the underground as soon as possible, “I have it! I can go from one place to another without problems, we go to the door, step and I open you from the other side.” "Can…Can you do it?" Said Frisk, taking her hands away to look at him. “Of course!” He wasn’t quite sure how strong his roots were, but he had to try. And above all, not to show his fear, ”Stop crying, okay? Trust me, Frisk. I'm your best friend, right?” "Yeah, you're right." Flowey felt a little better when the girl wiped her eyes and regained some of her smile. she got up and, after removing the snow, raised her finger optimistically. “Time to go home” Frisk waited for Flowey to disappear to meet him next to the door, it was his way of walking without legs. But he didn’t do it, he was on the spot, looking at a particular spot with the faded smile. His stem trembled. "Frisk" Flowey's voice was serious. He kept staring at something behind the girl, “Run.” “Why?” "Don’t reply to me and run away. Now!” Frisk was going to follow his order when, in front of her, a strange figure appeared, resembling a dragon skull with a light coming from inside its mouth, like a weapon. "One step and you'll have to get back to your save point, buddy.” Frisk turned to voice. Now, in front of her and Flowey was a little skeleton, at least compared to Papyrus. However, unlike Papy, this one didn’t seem so friendly despite his smile. The blue eye and the attack didn’t presage anything good. If he was also a skeleton, he could only be one person. “Sans?” “Heya, Frisk. You and I have to talk about these sabbatical years that you have taken. And then I'm lazy.” “What?” Frisk didn’t understand anything. Sans's blue eye shone brighter and he raised his hand, ready to strike. However, his attack was interrupted when he had to dodge the petals of Flowey. “I got this. Run!” Frisk jumped in time to dodge the beam of the Gaster Blaster, just like Flowey, who reappeared closer to the skeleton, between him and her friend. Frisk looked at his companion, he returned it with a clear gesture. She had no choice against him, got lost among the trees, looking for a safe place. She hoped nothing would happen to Flowey, but now, where the hell should she go? When Frisk disappeared from his sight, Flowey was able to give all his attention to that smiling bag of bones. At least his attack, though dodged, managed to draw Sans's attention to him. "Do you really think you have a chance against me, psycho flower?" Sans didn’t seem concerned about the girl's escape. He would find her, now that she was on his battlefield, “So best friend, huh? What kind of "thorny" game do you take with Frisk?” “Stop your jokes for anyone who wants to listen, trash” Flowey cut him off, preparing another attack, “Frisk is not yours now.” “Well, you want to go to the "root" of the matter“ Sans winked at him, amused at Flowey's expression of rage, “Do you think you're the only one who remembers that? Then you didn’t think about protect her.” "That was a long time ago." Several bones began to appear around Sans. The battle was going to be hard, but he did not flinch, “And in another timeline.” "That doesn’t atone for your sins. And you haven’t been judged.” "Stop talking nonsense and fight!" “It's okay. There is something you don’t know. And I'm very good at my job.”