#and of course Life would LOVE the babybones

[ancha-aus]

RealAgeAU Drabble - The Scheme

I am back!

More RealAgeAU. With the baby <3 Hey @spotaus get in here :D

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*----------------*

Cross walks from side to side “This is bad. This is very bad.” Cross even flickers in and out of view.

Dust holds out an arm and catches Cross by the arm before pulling him to sit next to him on the ground. Nightmare notices what Dust wants and climbs from his lap into Cross’s lap.

Dust watches as Cross snuggles their babybones and relaxes a little.

Dust nods and focusses back on what Error had shared with them.

Only to see that Dream is also close to a panic attack. Great.

Dream tugs on his own hands as he rambles “Fate and Balance are too dangerous! They will try to force Nightmare to change his domain. They already tried with me but with me being so well known and seeing as I already told everyone they knew it would attract too much attention if they made me change…”

Error groans as he sighs “Yes. I know. It is why I called for this meeting.”

The meeting being in some random AU with them, Error, Dream and Blue.

Blue pulls Dream near and puts an arm around his shoulders “Hey it will be fine. Error already hid where they are hiding and only us two know he is even alive.”

Dream shakes his skull “They just need to start checking universes. As soon as they find the right one they will know he is there. And notice Error’s meddling.”

Nightmare shoots Error a worried look but Error just shrugs “I will be fine. Balance already hates me anyway.” Nightmare does not look happy as he glances at Dust.

Dust frowns “They will just know? how?”

Dream searches for the right words “It is a god thing… if we are in a universe we can notice fellow gods or stuff changed by gods. It is why Nightmare and I could always sense each other.”

Killer tilts his skull “Seriously? I thought that was just a twin thing?”

Nightmare shakes his skull “No it was a god thing.”

Killer huh’s and looks off into the distance.

Horror frowns as he thinks “Meaning we can’t just keep hiding?”

Error shrugs as he looks to the side “I changed the universe code and makeup enough to make it unable to be found unless you make a very specific jump. The problem is that sometimes some gods can override bans placed by other gods.” He mutters softer “well… one exception with some very complicated and specific scenarios.”

Dust shoots Error a look “Can we copy that?” If they can do that maybe they can continue being relaxed here. Relax as they watch Nightmare develop his newly developing powers.

Error shakes his skull “Not without messing around with the save files, load files, reset files and save states.” He just shakes his skull at the looks everyone sends him “don’t ask how the guy made that mess work for himself.”

Dream looks at him worried “There has to be something we can do!”

Dust blinks as he feels a tug on his hoody. He looks to the side and sees nothing so he sighs “Cross. Visible please.”

A moment before Cross, and Nightmare, reappear again. Cross looks embarrassed. Nightmare however looks smug “We do what Dream did.”

Dust turns to Nightmare “What do you mean?” the silence around them is loud.

Nightmare nods “Dream says they can’t influence him because they know forcing him to change will attract attention. They don’t like being known. There is a reason people thought Error and I were the reason for all the bad stuff. Because they want us to be the face. They don’t want to be held responsible.”

Dust sees where he is going with this and doesn’t like it “Nightmare… please tell me you aren’t thinking what I think you are thinking.”

Nightmare keeps looking smug “We should reintroduce me.”

The loud and in sync shouting of No’s even surprises Dust as Cross after his own shout just holds Nightmare closer.

Killer sits down next to them “No. Nuh-uh. We aren’t doing that. Ever.”

Nightmare frowns “But we need to? If we don’t Fate or Balance will eventually find us.” He huffs as he crosses his arms “I like my domain but I can’t exactly use it to attack in anyway.”

Cross just holds him close and nuzzles his skull “We will defend you!”

Nightmare frowns “You guys are strong but…”

Error sighs “Fate and Balance are a league on their own… It is how they can just decide and change domains after all.” he sighs and shakes his skull “I don’t meet them a lot but lets say that near the start they made it clear what my domain entitled.”

Dust frowns and reconsiders some things. He never truly considered how Error ended up picking his domain. How Nightmare even knew what his entitled… If there are these much stronger beings around…

Horror must had made the same conclusion as he shoots Nightmare a look “what was your idea?”

Nightmare smiles a tiny bit as he speaks “We start reintroducing me. We start obviously with the safest options first and work from there. Then by the time they find us, it will be too late and old news and changing my domain will be too suspicious for them to do.”

Dream looks unhappy “Who would we reintroduce you to first?”

Nightmare grins with a knowing smile.

----

Reaper frowns as he floats from side to side in the beautiful garden. Careful not to touch anything.

Life giggles “I think you are worrying for nothing old friend.”

Reaper groans “I don’t like this. are you sure about this? I can still change the location and we can skip this meeting.”

Life shakes his face and looks excited “Reaper. Hearing that Dream and Error want to meet us about something very special? With special guests? Of course I want to meet them.”

Reaper frowns as he looks around nervously “If people find out I knew where you were…”

Life shrugs as she makes her tea “Balance already knows either way. She knew before you did. They never told anyone either. Meaning in the end others not knowing isn’t that dangerous.”

Reaper sighs as he floats over to grab his own tea to drink “I still worry…”

Life nods “I know. You worry too much.” She grins at him teasing “So how is your secret beau?”

Reaper shoots her a look “Don’t start.”

Life giggles and hums a happy tune “You can hardly blame me. It is very rare you truly connect with someone.”

Reaper sighs as he rubs his neck “Don’t start.”

Life giggles before both of them look up as they notice the change in the air. New people have entered this hidden space.

Reaper and Life look out and hear a voice which Reaper knows is Error.

“Life generally is in this area by the blossom trees. I can only assume she and Reaper will be there.”

Reaper knows they both are listening for any other voices.

“Life just… hangs around here? Doesn’t that get boring?”

Reaper is still slightly shocked to hear Killer. He knew there was going to be a special guest but still.

Reaper knew that Error knew where Nightmare was and that means that he would knew where the gang is but still… it shocks him.

It only takes a moment before Error walks into view and he grins “See? found them.” and he continues leading the way. Dream is nearby with Blue as Killer walks in after them with Dust and Horror close behind.

Reaper frowns as he notes the obvious absent Cross and Nightmare but well… it is something.

Error leads them over as Life stands up herself with a small smile “It is a pleasure to finally see the faces of those who are the center of much talk around our universes.”

Reaper snorts as he sees all of them look sheepishly away.

Dream rubs his cheek “It is nice to finally get to meet you Life… I have heard much about you… Thank you for allowing us to visit you in your home!”

Killer rolls his sockets and copies his voice but softer and Dream does not even turn around or drop his smile as he kicks behind him and hits Killer’s shin.

Life smiles amused “Oh that is alright. I must say I was very curious about the fact that you wished to meet us.” And she waits.

Dream looks nervously at Error and Killer before looking to the side.

Error raises his brow at Killer and crosses his arms “Well?”

Killer shoots Horror and Dust a look. Dust nods to him and Killer turns to them with a smile “What can I say? We needed some time to relax and figure stuff out but now we are more than ready to continue on! Foremost.” He grins “Cross?”

Silence.

Killer sighs and turns around as he looks into the nothing “Cross I know you are there. Stop hiding the two of you.”

A very unhappy mutter.

Reaper blinks confused. He hadn’t even sensed Cross… How… Reaper glances at Life and Life looks shocked herself.

Reaper can understand him not noticing someone but this is Life’s realm. Her home. Made of her magic. How had she not noticed someone entering?

Killer glares and crosses his arms “Cross. We are here to reintroduce him.”

Cross grumbles unhappily but appears and-

Reaper stares and his mind blanks.

Nightmare is looking up at Cross highly amused before turning to Killer and holding out two arms. Killer easily takes him over before walking closer to Life and Reaper. Cross makes a wounded sound and hurries after Killer.

Killer grins as he proudly holds Nightmare up “Meet! Nightmare! God is restoration!”

Nightmare grins and raises a tiny tiny arm in a wave “hi.”

Oh shit even his voice is young and what even is this?!

Life coos and before Reaper can blink she is suddenly holding Nightmare and holding him close “Oh you are just adorable. No wonder they hid with you and kept the multiverse away from you.” she smiles happily at the panicked looking skeletons “Well? Are you all coming? I will make us a meal and we will talk about all that happened.” She nuzzles the tiny skull with a happy hum “Oh tiny skeletons are just too cute. I will make sure to make something you like. Do you have any favourites?”

Nightmare just stares at her confused as he shoots the other skeletons a helpless look.

Horror walks over and speaks calmly “His magic is still resettling and he can’t always eat everything…”

Life shoots him a look and nods “I understand.” He grabs hold of Horror and pulls him along too as she floats towards another part of her area “I assume you know about his diet? Come along we will prepare some for all of you.” she raises her voice and aims it at the others “Get comfortable! We will be right back.” And they disappear behind some bushes.

Killer slowly tilts his skull “… did that god just steal our mate and babybones?”

Dust looks after where they disappeared himself “I am honestly not sure…” he shoots Error a glare “I thought you said Life would be fine to be introduced to?”

Error huffs “Because she is?” he rubs the back of his neck “I guess it makes sense… she is the goddess of life. Of course she gets excited at the sight of children… I think she will eventually give him back to you guys…”

Cross is glaring into the distance “She better or I will not be held responsible for what I will do.”

Killer and Dust both look highly amused.

Reaper finally finds his voice “Why is Nightmare tiny?”

The others actually look at him and Blue grins widely “You got like two hours? It is a long story.”

Dream laughs and nods “I can only assume we have enough time before Life returns with Nightmare and Horror.”

Cross huffs “You guys explain.” He disappears from view, and Reaper suddenly can’t feel his lifeforce anymore.

Killer grins “Have fun hunting and stalking love! See you in a bit!”

Dust takes a seat in a chair and grins “Ready for a short explanation?”

Reaper nods and gets ready. He has no doubt this will be quite the tale.

*----------------*

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[undertale-writing-times]

You know those situations where the parents have to choose between saving the baby or the one carrying the baby? What if S/O chooses their own life over the baby's? 💀

Normally I wouldn't write something like this, since it's a bit too dark, but I figured hey, why not? I didn't go through too much detail or anything.

Error: Good. Error hates that this had to happen, of course, but they never really like the idea of having children, and they would rather have you rather than have the baby. They'll comfort you during the whole thing,and try to make you feel better, but they're not really heartbroken about this…

Ink: It does suck, he did want children, but hey! They could try again later. No use in being sad about something that they could try again on. Yeah, it won't be the same but it is a new version, right?(he's not that good at this sorta thing ^^')

Yanberry: Berry thinks that you made the right choice. It is very sad that the baby couldn't be saved, but honestly, he would have rather had you anyway. It would have been dangerous for the baby if you died and the baby didn't… so! He'll tell you that he still loves you, and if you want a baby, they could always just adopt! Or try again later.

Hound: Their soul has a ping of pain shooting through it when they heard that the baby passed, then they heard that you were still alive. Their soul still hurt, but they were… pleased to hear that you were still alive. They helped you feel better, talking to you and listening to you talk about your feelings. They aren't sure that they would want to try again.

Axe: When he hears that the baby died, his mind rushes to the worst ending but then he hears that you lived. He's really happy that you lived, but he can't help but feel kinda… sad that the baby didn't. He feels a little guilty thinking that. Did he not deserve to have a big happy family? Did he not deserve babybones?

Lover: It hurts. It hurts a lot. He knew that this was going to happen but he allowed himself to hope. He let himself dream of a family… he'll come in, and hold your hand, and you two can cry together. You two knew that this was a chance… the baby just didn't have enough magic to form fully.

[popatochisssp]

I know it's been ages ago since you finished Swapfell Indigo fics, or asks and I'm not entirely sure this counts as 1 of the closed questions or not (feel free to not answer if that's the case). Would the dynamic & personalities of (Swapfell Indigo) Mal & Rus be different if they had more siblings? Anyways, I still go back to reread 'Dirty Laundry' and it's still lovely as ever. Hope u have a nice day! <3

That’s an interesting thought-experiment, but I guess a lot of it depends on what kind of siblings we’re talking about, and how many.

As always, I'm a fool who wrote way more than necessary to answer this post, so I'm going to put all the theoretical navel-gazing under a cut to save some dashes! XD

If they had a lot of siblings, I imagine they might not be as close. They’d still love each other, of course, but with more family in the mix, I feel like there’d be a greater chance of them having more in common with one of the other sibs and vibing just a little more naturally in their company.

Mal and Rus get along well and have a strong bond, but part of that is definitely fire-forged in the fact that for a long time (pretty much the entirety of their lives Underground), the only for-sure bit of safety/trust/family to be found anywhere was their brother. Outside of that, their interests and temperaments are just... kinda different—not a bad thing, people are different!—so if there were other people in their lives during those formative years who were family, and they vibed a little more in Mal’s direction or in Rus’, they just might end up being more the go-to sib for hanging out instead.

Break it down even further, I think things would be different depending on whether we’re talking about an older or a younger sibling.

Older’s an interesting thought, I imagine having someone looking out for him and All the Responsibility not squarely on his shoulders from a young age would make for a very different Mal—probably still a bit of a busybody, still liking to be on top of things because that’s just part of him, but maybe a little less paranoid and a little more willing to let other (trusted) people handle some things. Rus might’ve been in an easier position too, with two big siblings to protect him and a Mal who didn’t have to make it his life’s mission to just Do Everything before Rus could even attempt to figure it out on his own. An older sibling in the mix would probably give both Mal and Rus a little room (from each other, from themselves from the situation Underground in general) and they might be a little bit better off, but the trade-off would probably be that the eldest is the one who catches all the hell from being Gaster’s first experiment, being solely responsible for two little brothers, having to figure out how to cope and take care of the family and scrape by in a ‘fell verse that doesn’t seem to care if they live or die at the best of times… It feels kind of like it’d be a shifting of trauma here, Mal’s parentification and stress take a lateral slide onto Theoretical Big Sib, and Rus’ feelings of uselessness and not doing enough to help is halved but then shared with Mal. So… is that better? Arguably, maybe, but it’s the same situation and the same stressors, just on a different number of people.

Another younger sib is hard to say, I think a lot of it might come down to the personality of said sib. One a little more like Rus in nature, sensitive and anxious and in need of a lot of protection and support… Well, Mal’s going to burn out twice as quick, I think that’s inevitable in this scenario. At least when it’s only Rus he has to look after, it’s manageable—it’s just one babybones, which is definitely a lot when Mal’s still young himself, but it’s only the one, easy to keep track of, easy to protect, easy to haul out of danger single-handedly if need be—but two… Two is literally double-trouble, and the variables of what could happen to his little siblings introduced by the fact that they can be in two places at one time definitely keep Mal up at night; lots of nightmares about losing them, only being able to save one, wondering how he could live with himself if he was ever forced to choose. And any more than two siblings, the problem is exponentially exacerbated, more younger ones to provide for, more to keep safe, more to lose in any number of horrible and entirely-too-possible scenarios Underground. In a weird way, I think this kind of situation might help Rus mature and step up a little earlier—to his own detriment, probably, because it wouldn’t be something he’s choosing to do because he feels he’s old enough to learn to handle his own stuff, but rather something he’s kind of forced into because he has a little sibling (or siblings) who needs support and their big brother who usually handles everything for them is visibly approaching a nervous breakdown at bullet-train-speeds and somebody has to do something. Growth is growth, Rus stepping in and being more independent would probably help Mal out at least a little, but again it’s just a shifting of trauma, Mal and Rus both ending up shouldering the same burden. Rus would come out of it a harder, more damaged person, and Mal would be equal parts proud of how much he’d grown up and sad/guilty that he hadn’t been strong enough to do it all himself and spare Rus from having to do that growing so soon.

But, another younger sibling who’s more like Mal, independent and stubborn and determined… I’d say it’s better but as always it’s just a different set of problems. That’s a younger sib that Mal simultaneously has to worry about less and more—less because they can probably handle themselves fine with most things and don’t need much coddling, but also more because they’re probably not like Rus who will stay put when and where Mal tells him to and will (probably) not go off getting off into trouble on his own (if Rus is in trouble, it’s usually because trouble found him, not the other way around). Mal probably switches a lot of his overprotective mother-henning to the sibling he decides needs it more, trying to rein in the youngest or at the very least teach them how to protect themselves in their shitty, violent world. Rus gets a little breathing room with the worst of Mal’s overbearingness focused elsewhere and more of a chance to grow up and try things out at his own pace, but also probably ends up with a little bit of middle-child syndrome—feeling a little neglected/unseen/unimportant sometimes between what Mal and the younger sib have going on. He’s not as prone to needing to be bailed out of trouble as the youngest sibling, so he doesn’t always get as much attention from Mal, and he’s not as tough and capable as Mal so the youngest probably doesn’t come to him for help very much, if at all. They’d all surely love each other and spend time together, as allowed by circumstance, but I think Rus might feel like he just... blends into the background sometimes with two tough, independent siblings to vie for the attention of and it’s not a great feeling. I imagine both Mal and youngest sib would be horrifically guilty to realize Rus felt that way; worse if they have to acknowledge it’s kind of true and that Rus can be easy to forget about if he’s quiet and out of the way and doesn’t need to be worried about as much as The Other One.

Any way you slice it—one extra sibling, several, older or young, sensitive or independent—they’re still family, they still love each other, but the dynamics do change around a bit and the ‘prizes’ from the Trauma Lottery may shuffle around or end up shared, depending on the specifics!

[carelesscreativity]

Kreme Love & Trust: Gift for TheLemonHeartLocket

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

(SFW, Fluff)

Dream jumped, gripping the blankets tightly in his fists as he heard another loud crackle of thunder. He felt ashamed of himself through his fear. He wasn’t a babybones anymore. He definitely should’ve been over this fear, but he wasn’t. He knew Nightmare could tell, if the sick amusement somewhere else in the castle was anything to go off of. It made him somewhat sad to feel it.

Dream was just visiting, of course. He’d been ready to go back when the storm had suddenly started and the second he’d heard the first clap of thunder, his magic was crippled with fear in an instant. At least Nightmare had seemed to be having a good time. He’d offered Dream a room through his laughter and Dream had accepted, though he was utterly humiliated in the process.

He had the curtains drawn tightly shut, but he couldn’t hold back a jolt as he saw the faint line of light appear in the wall through the tiniest gap in the shades. It was followed by a LARGE clap of thunder. Dream wondered why storms always had to ruin his day for him. He glared at the window weakly, like the hidden panels of glass had personally wronged him.

He suddenly became aware of the soft sound to his right and a faint red glow out of the corner of his eye. He relaxed a little, but wouldn’t stop staring at the window. He heard a soft laugh and he felt his face flush weakly. “It isn’t funny.” He managed. The bed shifted and Dream looked over at Killer, who’d climbed up next to him.

“I know, I know. Sorry... Just had to basically kiss your brother’s ass so I could come see you.” Killer sighed. He had an arm around Dream in a moment, tugging the guardian back against his chest in the next. His other hand came around, presenting his soul for Dream to hold, it having already shifted to its inverted heart shape.

The guardian took it without a second thought, his golden eyes finally being torn from the window to look at the cherry-red glow in his hands. The organ gave a soft buzzing sound, floating above and between Dream’s hands. It had taken so long for Killer to trust him like this. Now, Killer would offer it up, when before, he would’ve stabbed Dream for even looking at it in some form of confusion.

The first time Killer had offered to let him hold it, he’d sounded so nonchalant, but Dream was able to sense that it was important to Killer in every way. Dream had never held something with such delicacy and care as he had with Killer’s soul. It had felt so strange to hold the other’s life in his hands and he felt so honored to be trusted doing it even now. The thought always warmed him and made his own apple soul pound. Of course, he’d let Killer see and hold his soul as well. It was his first ever look at how gentle Killer could be with something. He’d regarded it with such amazement and fascination that Dream didn’t think he would ever be able to get that flustered ever again. Even thinking about it made him blush just a little.

He ALMOST smiled. Dream flinched with a sharp gasp as the next clap of thunder slightly shook the room. He couldn’t help the whimper that left his throat as he screwed his eyes shut. “Hey, hey.” Killer’s voice was soft. “Sunshine, c’mon...” His hand moved around to Dream’s front, rubbing wide circles on his ribcage. Dream trembled, continuing to stare at the window with teary eyes.

The nickname and the motion were both helping him relax a little, though he was sure that Killer could feel his pounding soul. “Boss told me you’ve always been scared of storms...” Killer murmured next to him as he continued to hug Dream from behind. He pressed his teeth to the side of his head. Dream gave a weak, shameful nod.

Killer blinked and shifted, sitting crisscross and turning Dream so he was sideways in his lap, leaning against his chest. Dream continued to cradle Killer’s soul. “It’s alright if you’re afraid. Just know that it can’t hurt you.” He paused for a moment. “I wouldn’t let it, anyway.” Dream blinked.

“You’re not going to have a knifefight with some storm clouds.” He said, managing a soft scoff of amusement as his eyes raised to meet Killer’s. Those white-ringed eyelights burned bright as they stared back at him. Dream loved them and he loved that crooked grin that was spreading across Killer’s face as well.

“Yeah? I totally would. I would fight storm clouds for you. Doesn’t that prove my absolute love and devotion to you? Fighting clouds?” Killer teased lightly. He laughed as Dream softly smacked him, giving him a playful look of disapproval. He almost laughed before there was another loud crash of thunder and he nearly shrieked. His hands were shaking badly now.

He blinked tearfully as he felt one of Killer’s hands raise to rest underneath his own. The other arm wrapped around his shoulders and hugged him close. Dream blushed as he felt Killer’s teeth press against his forehead, where the front of his crown would usually be. He felt so bare without it, glancing over to where he’d placed it on the nightstand. “Dream?” Killer’s voice prompted.

Dream jumped a little and looked up at him. Killer leaned down and pressed their teeth together. Dream immediately and eagerly took the distraction, pressing back against him. Killer, for once, did not deepen the kiss, keeping it soft and sweet. He pulled back, his cheeks having the slightest bit of red. He was staring at Dream, radiating a warmth from both his eyes and his soul. Dream couldn’t help but blush, burying his face against his shoulder. “Don’t look at me like that...” He mumbled. Killer blinked and pressed his teeth to the top of his head.

“Like what? Like you’re an absolute ray of sunshine? Because you are.” Dream began to protest and Killer kept going. “Or maybe like you’re the most perfect monster I’ve ever seen? Because you are.” Dream’s face flushed and he tried to speak once more, Killer pressing a finger to his teeth. “Or maybe you don’t like me looking at you like I’m the luckiest monster in the Multiverse because I have you?” He opened his mouth and Dream quickly put a hand over Killer’s mouth.

“I get it, I get it!” Dream was completely flustered. He jumped with a sharp inhale as he heard the thunder once again, but Killer placed a hand on his cheek, keeping him from looking over at the window. Dream trembled a little, reaching up and holding Killer’s wrist. Killer stared at him quietly, giving a soft sigh as he gently rubbed his thumb over his cheek.

Dream couldn’t help but lean into the touch. Killer’s hand was always so warm. It pulled away and took Dream’s free hand, intertwining their fingers. Killer gave his hand a gentle squeeze, pulling the other close once again and keeping Dream’s head tucked in the crook of his neck. They stayed like that for a few moments. Dream flinched and whimpered as lightening flashed for a second.

“Just a bit of light.” Killer assured him. “Here.” He reached down and pulled up the blanket. He draped it over Dream’s head so the other would be effectively ‘hidden’ from the storm. He was illuminated in the red of Killer’s soul now, though his golden blush was still very obvious. Just for extra assurance, Killer leaned down and pressed his teeth to Dream’s forehead again.

It never ceased to amaze the guardian how affectionate Killer could be. Especially since he’d seen him in battle. He could barely recall how this started. How THEY had started. He was sure that it had been some kind of mutual interest they developed when fighting. Maybe even just by seeing each other. When Dream would come over to hopefully discuss truces (all of which had previously failed), Killer would always be lingering nearby or waiting outside the door to Nightmare’s office.

It had been Killer, hadn’t it? He’d stopped Dream when he was leaving once and made the first move, inviting the guardian out to the garden with him. And who was Dream to say no? He couldn’t. Sure, Killer had later had his ass handed to him by Nightmare, but the black-eyed skeleton always insisted that it had been worth it. They’d continued to have little meetups here and there. Some of them were not so little. Faint inklings of attraction had become something much more by the time an actual truce was established.

Though neither of them had really said anything, it was blatantly obvious to everyone else that they’d been an item for a VERY long time. Dream was momentarily broken out of his thoughts by faint rumbling outside, turning to look. Killer’s hand was felt on his cheek again, immediately stopping him. He relaxed a little, tipping his head into Killer’s palm as the other murmured that the storm sounded like it was moving further away.

“Maybe it heard me talking and was intimidated?” He suggested playfully. Dream blinked before he finally smiled and broke out into a soft bout of laughter. Killer’s crooked grin straightened out and became a genuine one as he watched him. He’d always loved Dream’s laugh. It sounded like the soft chiming of bells and it made his soul warm. “What’s with the laughter?? Clearly the storm got intimidated because it knows I’d win in a knifefight!”

Dream only laughed harder, more tears appearing e corners of his eyesockets. But Killer could tell they were happy tears. His soul pulsed in Dream’s hands, absolutely delighted. Another crack of thunder sounded. It was much fainter and, to Killer’s relief, Dream didn’t even seem to hear it. His laughing finally calmed and he stared up at Killer, smiling wide.

Dream jumped as he felt the heavy beating in his hands and looked down at Killer’s soul in surprise. The organ was glowing brightly, almost slightly pink with each light pulse. Killer watched as Dream hesitated before looking up at him. He raised the soul to his face and pressed his teeth against it. He didn’t break eye contact and, as a reward, he got to witness the red blush as it spread fully across Killer’s face.

“That’s cheating...” The other murmured. Dream gave a little giggle and lowered the soul, turning and nuzzling Killer’s hand as it continued to rest against his cheek. He pressed his teeth to his palm and Killer’s blush deepened. He leaned down and Dream turned his face back to meet Killer’s teeth with his own. He closed his eyes, his own golden soul soaring and pounding in his chest.

The storm was distant now and Killer continued to rub his thumb over his cheek, asking Dream softly if he felt better. Dream stared at him, unable to form words for a moment with how happy Killer made him. He paused for a moment before speaking in a small voice. “Killer, I love you.”

The black-eyed skeleton blinked in surprise. It wasn’t the answer he’d been expecting, but he absolutely was not complaining. He stared at Dream before smiling and pressing his teeth to his head again. He stayed there and murmured quietly, causing the guardian to light up gold to his shoulders.

“I love you too, sunshine.”

[lunarreaper-ut]

How exactly did killer loose his arm? Was it cuz he got distracted or was it tactic to prevent something even worse?? ;-; how did nightmate take that sight? How did he get the idea to give killer some of his magic to make an artificial arm for him, did he knew it would work? Was it a hard or painful process for any of them?? (God i love the idea of killer getting a shadow arm from nm >w< makes him even cooler! Kyaaaaa~ still a sad thing tho uwu)

Was nightmare ever in the mood/need/curious to ask killer sing somehing (for him~)??

What ships will happen in kingdomverse??

Alsoo... Uhh dont know if thats an OK question but can they get pregnant? I wanna know if babybones are an possibility in the future? qwq

Ah yes... the Incident.

Allow me to explain the unfortunate event in which Killer almost failed at his job.

(This is gonna be heckin, and I mean HECKIN long. We got some worldbuilding ahead!)

How did Killer lose his arm?

This event happened several years after Killer began his duties as Royal Guard. Dream had already told Nightmare he no longer needed a Royal Guard, and Killer already expressed his wish to stay as one. Nightmare and Killer were frequently having their nightly visits, and things were going well.

One night, however, after Killer had returned to his room and the two had settled in for bed, something happened.

Now I haven't mentioned this before, mainly cause your questions have thankfully not uncovered it >w< During Nightmare's reign, there was much despair in the Kingdom. Negativity brings out the worst in people, as we're all aware I'm sure, and it's no wonder that some people would be driven mad by the results of Nightmare's actions.

Some people began to believe that if they worshipped Nightmare, they would be spared from his wrath and from the destruction his crafted creatures wrought. These people formed a cult dedicated to Nightmare, praising his actions and renouncing their loyalty to the Sun King. They called themselves The Corrupted.

Cults are a very hard thing to get rid of, especially if you weren't aware they existed. When Dream returned and cast Nightmare into the Void, the Corrupted hid themselves in the shadows, vowing to return only once their "True King" returns as well.

The issue arose when Nightmare did return from the Void. Nightmare, throughout his reign, was most often seen as his "transformed" self, and it was that self that The Corrupted worshipped, not Nightmare.

The Corrupted believed that they could bring back the "True King", and to do so they needed to remove the "Imposter King". The cult spent time learning the routines of the castle in order to break in to Nightmare's quarters when they were certain no one was around.

They had acquired a drug meant to incapacitate monsters and suppress their magic, and modified it to be several times as strong. Nightmare certainly wasn't at his strongest either, the Kingdom was a naturally positive place when Dream was around.

A few cult assassins threw a smoke bomb filled with the drug into Nightmare's room while he slept, and unfortunately it worked well enough. Nightmare wasn't unconscious, but he didn't have as fine of control over his magic or his own body.

The assassins came into the room, intending to kidnap Nightmare, but it's rather fortunate that Killer is a light sleeper, isn't it? Killer came into the room just as one of the assassins was about to grab Nightmare.

There was quite a few of them, as they'd been prepared for resistance, and though I hate to say it, they were skilled too. They weren't just some guy picked off the street and given a weapon, it was as if they'd been trained for years just for this moment.

It's likely they had been. Killer was having difficulties, but holding his own well enough. He would only really need to hold them off long enough for the guards to get to the room. Well, that's what he thought until he saw another assassin coming towards a practically immobile Nightmare, and he clearly wasn't intending to just kidnap the King.

Killer moved without thinking, and without his armor he was much more vulnerable to attacks... but getting injured wasn't an issue. He had to protect Nightmare at all costs, even if it meant he got hurt. That was the moment he lost his arm.

Killer didn't have time to register the pain, and slew the assassin who dared attempt to harm Nightmare. Killer was outnumbered still, and if he was having difficulties before, it was going to be impossible to hold out now.

He was lucky he didn't have to though, as several Guardsmen burst into the room. Seems they'd finally heard the commotion. The Guardsmen drove out the assassins, only managing to capture two. Killer was tended to, and he refused to leave Nightmare's side until the drug wore off.

How did Nightmare handle it?

Nightmare was half conscious in the moment, and so most of what he saw didn't register properly. It was only when the drug had worn off and he saw Killer by his side, sans one arm (Hehe), that it hit him.

Nightmare was angry first and foremost. He was angry it happened, angry Killer was dumb enough to get hurt, angry he wasn't able to resist the stupid drug, and angry that Killer seemed completely unbothered.

Nightmare didn't react well at all, and he ended up putting Killer on temporary leave. When Killer tried to refuse Nightmare said he was useless with only one arm, and Nightmare didn't need a useless Guard. Killer shut up pretty quickly.

Killer was still allowed to stay at the castle of course, but he was forbidden from coming near Nightmare's office, or taking part in any Guard duties. Nightmare believed that what happened was the stupidest thing Killer could have done, and refused to think otherwise.

It was during Killer's leave that Nightmare did research. He interrogated the cult members, and utilized glamours (Which we all know he's not fond of) in order to leave the castle without issue. Throughout his research, he spoke with the Court Apothecary regularly about Killer's injury. How was he fairing, is he at risk of dusting, is there anything to be done, stuff like that.

The Apothecary had made an offhanded comment that Killer is going to be without his arm for the rest of his life, since skeletons don't regenerate. Not unless he got enough magic to replace the missing arm at least.

He mentioned just getting a prosthetic for Killer, but that went in one ear and out the other, so to speak. Nightmare began to think about the suggestion (even though it was a joke). Nightmare had a large surplus of magic, and he thought about whether or not it was possible to somehow weave his magic with Killer's and form a new limb.

By the time Killer had returned to Nightmare, asking to return to his duties, the King had already figured out a way to properly do the procedure. He of course asked Killer if he would be allowed to do so, that he wasn't certain if it would work and that it certainly wouldn't be pretty.

Killer agreed without issue. The process was indeed a painful one... fusing Nightmare's magic with Killer's was difficult, and it was akin to taking a freezing cold needle and sewing a constantly shifting mass of energy directly to his soul. (Not actually how it worked, it's just how it felt).

The only reason Killer got through the procedure was because of Nightmare's intent. We all know that intent comes through to Monsters when involving magic, and Nightmare's intent made the process a lot less painful. Heal, fix, help, care, all those things came through to Killer.

It helped that Nightmare had a good relationship with Killer. His magic was much more willing to accept Killer's and vice versa. If this had been done between Nightmare and a stranger, it wouldn't have worked.

It took Killer a few days to work the arm properly. It was almost dead weight for a while. After that, it took even longer for him to properly fight with it, and longer still for him to be able to utilize the magic it was made with.

Has Nightmare ever asked Killer to sing for him?

Nope, Nightmare doesn't even know Killer can or that he has a good voice XD Killer has never sung in front of anyone, nor does he care to. It's just not something he does, but I imagine there could be a few scenarios where he gets coerced into it. Singing with friends, soothing a wounded animal (Yes Killer would do that, he likes small animals. They're cute.), that kind of stuff.

Nightmare's never had a reason to think Killer could sing. >w<

What Ships are going to be canon in Kingdomverse?

Well we've already got Cream, Killermare and Afterdeath as being confirmed.

Honestly I've kinda decided to leave the others more open for interpretation! If you want, you can say Errink is gonna happen, Lust could probably be someones s/o, it's all up to interpretation >w<

Theres quite the cast of characters in Kingdomverse?, and there might be more added later (if I can think of them), so honestly I'm sure there's no issue with some other ships coming to life!

Basically theres no other planned canon ships >w<

Can the skellies get preggers?

I don't see why not! Nightmare and Dream being immortals doesn't stop them from having kids, but I would say that if they did it would probably be through a different process than mortals.

I'd say that monsters need to make the conscious, or unconscious decision that they want a child or that they are ready for a child before they can have one.

Nightmare and Dream would probably be a bit difficult to have a child with purely because they have an immense amount of power and magic (even after a bond), so it might be a bit risky even for them to have kids.

(if any of you do make ship kids I want to see them though, I love baby bones >w<)

[rosescries]

What was black and everyone else’s response to find out out the news of the baby? Was Black and perhaps the others insistent in being involved or involved at all?

Shocked first of all, that's the last thing anyone expected to find out. But they were accepting, and of course wanted to be involved.

They'll definitely be one of the most protected kids around though, with Black, Red, and Edge looking out for them.

As for the individual reactions:

Black would be in complete shock at first, but would come around quickly. He still would be a bit awkward (since he is reconnecting with Mutt and doesn't want to be shut out again), but he definitely would want to be apart of his little niece/nephew's life. And he would adore them when they arrived. He'd also be there to help raise them, having had a bit of experience raising Mutt from infancy. Mutt and Mc definitely appreciate the help.

Sans is actually pretty nervous, mostly because he doesn't know what to expect. There's still a chance everyone may be forcefully brought back to their own universes (not by his choice or doing, but the machine starting up again and doing that itself without his control), and he doesn’t want their family broken up. And he has to wonder, would the kid be pulled back with Mutt? Would they stay with Mc? Or would they be erased from existence like a certain scientist? He doesn't know and doesn't want to find out.

Papyrus is rather excited! He loves kids and he's happy to help the two parents in whatever why they'll let him! He and Blue often end up being one of the go-to babysitters (or at least who Mutt goes to to tire the kid out), absolutely cooing over them. Definitely one of the fun (but responsible!) uncles that the kid can have fun playing with.

Blue is kind of the same as Papyrus, definitely excited to have a new babybones running around, but perhaps a bit more subdued and nervous than Papyrus is. He's still a fun uncle to play with when their energy is a bit too high, but he's also pretty worried about their future. Kind of like Sans, since he is aware of what's going on- sort of. But he's still happy for them and would also very happy to be a sort of teacher to the kid too when they get a bit older, a fun one though!

Stretch is pretty nervous to be around a baby, he doesn't really know what to do with one or how to handle them. But once he got that figured out, he'd be pretty charmed by them. Definitely sneaks them sweets and will happily read to them for nap/bedtime if they asked. (Though like Sans he's also a bit worried about their fate if the machine ever decides to start working on its own again. He tries not to think too much about it)

Red is definitely wary, but generally knows how to handle a kid. He'd be like that cool uncle that texts once a year and gives all the cool presents/cash, but around more often and a bit closer. The kid would definitely grow on him and he'd humor them a lot. He may also teach them some mechanics if they'd let him, along with how to properly fight if Mutt and Mc won't dust him for it. Or Edge and Black.

Edge is reluctant, but definitely accepting! He look into every child development and parenting book like he was the one having a kid, just to be prepared. He'd also definitely be one of the ones helping Mutt and Mc set up a nursery, wherever they choose to have it. He's well prepared and surprisingly gentle with the kid, who honestly managed to steal his heart more than he'll ever let on.

Grey absolutely adores the kid, loves them to death. He does a lot of research into what kids can and can't eat at any age, and definitely has a lot of treats for them. Going to see Grey is a bit like going to Grandma's house, treats whenever and general freedom along with a lot of affection and hugs.

Lunar's in the same boat as Grey mostly. He adores the kid too, they're so small and fragile! Look at them! They almost fit in his hand! He's right beside Grey in figuring out their dietary needs for when the kid comes over, but sticks to it a little more strictly than Grey. He definitely still showers them with affection though, piggy back rides with him are the kid's favorite!

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Drifters ch.10 (spicyhoney)

Summary:  Red's been going along with all this, but it turns out that he has a thing or three to say to his brother.

Tags: Spicyhoney, Violence, Rescued Child, Medical Experimentation, Babybones

Read it on AO3

or

Read it here!

~~*~~

Edge had always had a plan for his life. Since he was a small child forced to spend his days watching Red beg, barter and steal for their meals and shelter, he’d been determined to help his brother provide for them as soon as he could. To bring them out of the dump and the back alleys to something better, from gutter trash to the Royal Guard.

It hadn’t been easy, but he’d done it, and between the two of them they’d managed to make a home for themselves, a decent one he’d always believed. Until his brother began tinkering with that old machine in the basement, the one that would never do anything until it did, and he discovered there was more outside their own little, dust-filled world. So much more, other Universes that didn’t abide by the rule of kill or be killed, where children might be trapped beneath the mountain but still played safely in the street.

There were times he’d thought about leaving their universe, in the darkest nights when fresh LV was settling heavily into his soul like lead while Edge fought his way back out from its shrouding numbness, struggling to keep his sense of self. He’d never let those longing ideas take hold; despite everything, Underfell was their home, there were people that needed him there, Monsters who depended on him.

He’d abandoned it all for the sake of this one child and if this was the new plan for his life, then he would handle it, as he had everything else, no matter what.

Whatever protests Red and Stretch were offering to that decision were drowned out by Blue’s dismissive, “Don’t be silly, of course you’re staying. Aren’t you?” Then with rising alarm, “You wouldn’t be going back to Underfell with her, would you?”

“No,” Edge said, “Not Underfell.” Again, he kept it to himself that that was no longer possible. In his arms, the baby was slowly settling, her drowsy sockets sinking closed again.

Blue was still nattering on in his relief, lowering his voice in deference to the baby’s whimpers easing back into sleep. “Then of course you’ll be staying with us! Oh, but we’ll need to make some changes around here. There’s only two bedrooms, that isn’t enough. Maybe the garage, yes, yes, the garage!” He clapped his hands together in quiet delight. “We can turn it into an apartment, I’ll put my Human cage somewhere else, yes, that’ll be perfect for you and Edge, Papy!”

Stretch only sat on the sofa, blinking a few times, as if the light was suddenly too bright. He was looking at Edge and the baby, but turned to his brother at that, “uh, say what?”

“An apartment for you and Edge, do keep up,” Blue said primly. He raised both brow bones in obvious implication, “Unless you’re about to tell me that the two of you weren’t going to share your room?”

“That won’t be necessary,” Edge repeated patiently before Stretch could answer him. “This is only a temporary arrangement. As soon as I find some employment, we’ll work on getting our own place, you don’t need to rearrange your entire home.”

Red sat up, sputtering, “okay, back it up there, bro, what, now?”

“Why would you do that?” Blue said, perplexed. He tilted his head to the side, reminiscent of the Dogs back in Underfell when Edge gave them an order they didn’t quite understand. “We can’t help take care of the baby if you move out.”

“You don’t need to help care for her,” Edge said, “she’s my responsibility.”

“Nonsense, it takes two to tango as they say and there are four of us!”

“Not if the child is created in a lab!” Edge snapped. The baby stirred and he lowered his voice, “This isn’t about birth control, this is about taking her away from someone who intended to use her as a lab experiment. I chose to take her, she’s my responsibility, and I will do my duty. The three of us won’t be staying here any longer than necessary.”

The silence hung in the air, nearly tangible.

After a moment, Stretch rolled to his feet, slouching across the living room to a side table where he started rummaging through the drawer. He came out with a pack of cigarettes, already stripping off the cellophane as he said, “you heard the man, she’s not ours, she’s his. he’s got a handle on it, let him take care of everything. i’m sure he’s got it all figured out.”

He didn’t look at Edge, walking straight past him in his disheveled shorts and mismatched sweatshirt to the rug where he shoved his feet into a pair of slippers before jerking open the front door, cold air pouring in. He went out, closed the door carefully behind him.

Red groaned loudly, “you really are a dumb fucker, aren’t you, bro.”

Arguing was familiar to Edge, but not while holding a sleeping infant. His kept his voice low and even, did not think of Stretch out in the cold lighting what would surely be the first of several cigarettes. “He doesn’t need to feel responsible. He didn’t choose this.”

The only person responsible was Edge, for coming here to begin with. There hadn’t been much in the way of choice on that, all he could do now was try not to compound the damages by leaving as soon as possible, before his debts grew past his ability to pay them.

Red only glared at him. simmering fury in his crimson eye lights, “yeah? me either, but i’m still fucking here, so i think i get a vote.”

“You’re different.”

“about three feet of different, yeah.”

“That isn’t what I meant, and you know it!” Edge snapped, “You’re my brother.”

“that i am. but i ain’t the only other person with a stake.” Red sounded frustrated and they glared at each other, Blue standing to the side, hands clasped in front of him as he looked nervously between them.

Red did not look away from Edge as he said slowly, "blue. why'nt you go upstairs to your room with your gear, get unpacked, settle in."

Blue didn’t move. He stood uncertainly, his feet shuffling as if they wished to obey.

"blue," Red said, terribly soft and the undertone was pure Underfell, "i ain't askin'.

He nodded then, snatching up his bag and heading up the stairs. His bedroom door closed as softly as the front door had and they were alone.

"okay, just you and me, bro. first things first,” Red held out his arms, “hand me the kid.”

“She’s my responsibility,” Edge repeated doggedly. “I chose this, you didn’t.”

“yeah?” Red demanded, “you come up with that idea all by your bad self? why the fuck you think i brought you to the lab, sightseein’? she was never not gonna leave with us, you just grabbed her first. you so busy tryin' to call dibs, you're forgettin' i saw her first.” Red never looked away, met Edge’s eye lights unblinkingly as he told him, “i been letting it go on account of you bein' new to all this, but now i’m tellin ya. give her here.”

Edge hesitated a moment longer, then stepped over to the sofa.

It was somewhat disturbing to see how easily Red folded her into his arms, cradling her expertly. She settled in with a contended little sigh, snuggling into the fur lining of his jacket. “there we go, honey.” Red crooned with a gentleness that he had never seen in his brother before.

Red said nothing else, only sat with the baby and Edge stood, waiting impatiently, until his brittle endurance broke. “Well? I’m sure you’re waiting to explain to me how I can’t handle this, so let me stop you before you begin. I can and I will, I’m doing fine so far.”

“oh, yeah, you’re doin’ swell,” Red snorted. “wanna take a good look at yourself in the mirror right now?”

Edge resisted the urge to shrink from that pointed comment, tugging Stretch’s robe tighter around himself. “That’s hardly fair, it was my first night with her!”

“ain’t none of this fair,” Red said agreeably. “‘specially not to her. wasn’t fair to you when i slipped us out of the lab before you could get your own special tattoo and we ended up on the streets.”

“Red—“

“wasn’t fair to me that i had ta do it,” Red went on, relentlessly, “but life ain’t fair, that’s a lesson i never had to teach you. you learned it all on your own.” He sighed heavily and settled deeper into the sofa cushions, drawing up his knees into a sort of cage around the sleeping child. “you know all that shit. so, now you wanna tell me what the fuck is wrong with you?” He jerked his chin towards the stairs, then back towards the front door. “we got her outta there and now you got people throwin' themselves at you to help and you just gotta do it all on your own, dontcha. lemme clue you in to something, little brother, the reason i raised you up on my own is ‘cause there wasn't anyone else to help!"

“I don’t need anyone else to help,” Edge hissed. He crossed his empty arms over his chest, gripping his upper arms in both hands so tightly that his phalanges ached. “I can do this on my own!”

“so, what then? we move out of this place and i move in with ya, but i don't get to help with the little miss?” His crimson eye lights were coolly assessing. “gonna go out there and get a job, right? whose gonna watch her while you're raking in the g?”

"I…” Edge faltered, "I'll pay someone. A babysitter."

"someone. someone you can trust more'n us?"

“No!” His soul clenched in his chest, already rejecting his own idea. Who could he possibly trust with her, even in this world, who could look at the symbols on her ribs and not rouse curiosity, perhaps take their questions to another scientist at another lab who might well have read the old paperwork left behind and— "Of course not, that isn't what I meant. I’ll handle it!"

“oh, i getcha. you’re the only you're allowed to take care of her.” Red rubbed a thumb gently down her rounded cheek and her mouth moved briefly as if readying itself for a bottle within her dreams. So small, so fragile in the cradle of his brother’s arms. “lemme ask you somethin' bro, are any of the rest of us allowed to love her, or are you callin' all of that, too?"

He’d never heard his brother so much as mention the word love before and something already tight in his soul clenched harder, painfully. "I can't ask you all to help me with this!"

"bro.” Red looked up at him and his expression was deeply pained and conflicted, none of his emotions hidden behind his normal veneer of sneering indifference. “i know it's hard for you, but you gotta pay attention. you ain't asking for help, heh, really not, not even close. we're offerin'. so let us offer.”

It must be his exhaustion, Edge thought, that made his emotions rise so close to the surface. Lingering heavily in his chest, rising into his throat and refusing to be swallowed away no matter how hard he tried. He was tired, so tired, and not simply from being kept up throughout the night. There was so much he’d lost in only a day’s time, lost and gained, and what he felt most strongly in this moment was a complicated grief.

Red nodded as if he could read every unspoken sentiment on his face. He patted the sofa next to him, scooting to the side, and Edge lurched over to sit next to him on legs that felt detached and shaky, sinking into the cushions. The moment he was settled, Red leaned over to lay the sleeping baby in his arms and he swore she was already putting on tangible weight since he’d first carried her away. She was already growing and changing, all he could do was try to guide it, to make sure she was cared for properly. That she was loved.

Red shifted up to sit on the back of the sofa, his shoulders against the wall. It put him taller than Edge, for once. “i don’t wanna see you running yourself ragged trying to do everything. been there, done that, ya know?"

“I can’t,” Edge whispered, the words soft and broken. He looked at the baby in his arms, at her peacefully sleeping face. He was so tired. Everything was so clear yesterday and now the course of his life was clouded, the linear line of it veering drunkenly along an unknown road.

“sure you can. am i your brother or not?” Edge nearly flinched from the hand that settled on his skull, caught himself just in time and instead leaned into it. He closed his sockets as his brother gently stroked his coronal sutures, the same way he had so many years ago now, on cold nights when Edge couldn’t sleep, holding him close as he crooned vulgar lullabies. There were no songs this time, only words drenched in unspoken promise, “‘cause little brother, i’m still plannin’ on taking care of you, too.”

Edge couldn’t say anything to that, he only nodded.

“good.” That stroking turned into a gentle rap of knuckles against the top of his skull. “now get your head on straight. go out there and apologize to the honey bun for tryin' to take away his kid just when he was gettin' used to the idea of havin' one.

“Our relationship isn’t like that.” Fuckbuddies was the word Stretch used, and it was not one that implied any form of shared parenthood.

“no?” Red said doubtfully. His chuckle was familiar, his humor tickling along the side of unkind. “then you better make damn well sure he knows it. mebbe you should start by askin’ him how he feels before you go on makin’ up his mind for him.”

Edge didn’t reply, but his brother’s point was brutally accurate. He owed Stretch that much and a great deal more. Now all he needed was to shore up his faltering courage and start paying his debts.

tbc

[lucyhblack]

Summary: Inside the enemy lair!

Red watched the skeleton monster's lair with curiosity.

He was sitting on the edge of a chair, the claws of his feet gently brushing the floor, while his head swiveled from side to side, trying to absorb everything he saw (he could say it was to check for likely dangers or threats, but the the truth is that he was trying to memorize everything so he could tell Edge later), completely alert and prepared to jump and run if necessary.

The tall black-clad monster was in a corner, fiddling with a bowl over a strange metal box. There were so many smells there (delicious) that almost overwhelmed the young demon alone.

He tried to control himself, to remain still and alert, but it was impossible to contain his tail dangling behind him, venting all the nervousness and excitement he felt (he was inside one of their lairs! And he was not tied up or anything!), or the mouth is filled with saliva only with the smell of that place.

After a few minutes of stirring the bowls over the strange box (there was fire on it, but Red didn't see where the fire was coming from. Was it magical then? Strange, he was always told that those strange monsters had no magic) the tall monster turned around with the bowl in hand and poured what he was cooking into two smaller bowls.

-Wait a minute, it's hot. - warned the monster depositing one of the narrow bowls in front of him.

Red frowned irritably. He could see clearly that it was hot, there was smoke coming out of the bowl and he could feel his heat, even from afar. Did the monster think he was a babybones?

The monster then picked up a large loaf that was on another table (and that Red had been watching, wondering if he could grab it, as well as the strange-smelling pieces of meat on the magic box - very unlikely he thought, and yet he would definitely make an attempt) and sliced him up (he tensed when the monster drew his knife, but the monster had his back to him and had yet to radiate any malicious intent). With a large piece in his hands he opened a small box and started spreading something yellow on it.

Red wondered if it was some kind of torture. Its lights did not come off the knife and, despite all his tense body at the end of the chair, his mind could not help fixing on what was the yellow thing, and what would it be (there was a possibility that it was some kind of poison, but if it were, the monster was pretty foolish to do it in front of you).

The monster deposited the bread on a plate and placed it in front of Red. The latter looked at the bread and back at the monster who had cut another piece and was again passing the yellow paste over it, just deigning to throw the briefest of moments looks on the demon.

His whole posture was calm and carefree, but Red would not be deceived. He had learned that monsters were cunning, and could change quickly, showing a calm and gentle posture only to attack him next.

He had all his attention on the skeleton monster (and it was so weird... to see a monster so similar to him and yet so different. It was kind of disconcerting to see that smooth, round skull, without the slightest indication of horns, or not being able to count with a tail behind him to read his intentions and emotions more clearly).

When the monster finished with the bread, he pulled out the second chair and sat facing Red. Red lights fixed on him and Red stood straighter. The monster smiled and incited.

-You can eat. - And as if to prove the point, he took a bite of the slice he was holding.

The little demon only moved on the older monster's third bite. He was still suspicious, but he could no longer contain himself (and if he were poisoned the monster would die before him, at least). He grabbed the bread and took a bite of it, as soon as the food dissolved in his mouth he had to control himself not to swallow it all at once.

By the stars! That was wonderful! He took care to digest only half the bread, the other half he pretended to chew, but just swallowed it, letting it sit inside him (along with several cherries). He would save it for Edge so he could prove it later.

Red ate the bread slowly (to avoid consuming it entirely), but in large bites, without taking the lights off the monster, watching him intently in silence while the other skeleton stared back at him by taking small bites of his meal. Its equally red lights did not transmit anything. Red wanted to growl, but he was too busy licking his fingers.

-Do you want another slice? - He asked in a soft tone.

Red took one last lick of the phalanges (lamenting when the divine taste was gone and only the dryness of his bones was left behind) and studied the monster carefully. Lights of it traveled from the bread on the counter and back to the monster that waited patiently. Red swallowed.

-Why?

The monster blinked, but unlike the surprise he expected, he saw satisfaction on the marked face.

Red didn't understand that monster. He had scars on his face, which proved that he was a surviving hunter, but he spoke low and gently, and passed nothreatening aura and did not react to him with all the other monsters he had met.

-Why am I offering food?

Red just nodded. Food, shelter, help, kindness... mercy... All those things that he knew (that had been hammered into him since he was born) that no monster would give him.

-Because you are a being created by the Angel and it is my duty to love and care for all creatures created by Him.

The demon blinked. Those words didn't make any sense to him. He did not know who this Angel was (his progenitor had been dead for a long time now, but he was sure that was not his name and no one else created him after his death). He just stared at the him waiting mand the skeleton monster smirked before speaking.

-Because you are hungry and I have food. - He shrugged.

The idea was so absurd that it made Red laugh out loud.

The black-clad monster stared at him in surprise, but made no move, even when Red cut his laughter by shrinking and looking at him in fright, ready to escape the slightest sign of displeasure from the other monster.

The tall skeleton tilted his head and Red noticed that he looked more intrigued than annoyed.

-You do not believe me?

-Why should? You monsters always have food, but you never share it with anyone, so why are you feeding me?

The monster turned off its lights and looked out over the garden that could be seen through the window. He was immersed in silence and Red watched him until he was about to walk away, tired and irritated by the enigma that was the other skeleton.

-Are not you tired? Tired of hiding, starving, cold... fearing?

Red was surprised by the question. Of course yes! But what choice did he have? Of course, he was tired of feeling weak from hunger and despair, of always looking over his shoulder, afraid to take a monster to his hiding place or to be caught when looking for food. Life was like that for someone who wasn't strong enough, and even if it sucked, he wasn't about to give up on it (he could not!), however cruel and horrible it was.

He snarled and the monster finally turned to him. Seeing his fury (and fear) he just stared at him without moving.

-You could have a different life. Safe, without hunger, without cold... without fear.

Red fell silent and blinked. What kind of ruse was that?

-How? Letting you kill me?

The monster widened its orbits, looking shocked before frowning and speaking in an irritated tone.

-I said "have a life"! I believe that for that you need to be alive and not dead.

Now it was Red's turn to blink in confusion, both in tone and words. He couldn't figure out what the other skeleton was trying to imply (and the fact that he seemed genuinely irritated by his possible death was even more intriguing). Tired of the monster games he decided to ask straight away.

-What are you trying to say?

-I'm saying that you can have a different life. I can teach you! How to be a monster... how to... pretend to be a monster, and live among us and no longer need to steal and hide .

Red stared at the dumb monster in astonishment. This guy could only be crazy!

-You could live in a house. - made a gesture indicating the den around him - Stay safe and have food, no longer be hungry or afraid, not to be chased. Have a peaceful life!

The monster's voice had gained strength with his speech, its red lights (two oval red rings, similar to his, but more rounded than his, that were sharper at the tips), had increased in its animation, making Red think on his little brother when he discovered something new, like a colorful frog or heard some ornate report from Red about his hunts.

Red realized that he had retreated in the chair with the tone of the monster and it also retracted when noticing the wide orbits of the smaller one. A soft red glow painted the bones of the monster's face and Red would have laughed had he not been so amazed.

Okay, this guy didn't hit his head well. That was obvious now. First by defending a demon, protecting him and standing against his own people. Then inviting him to his den, feeding him and now coming with this crazy talk of turning him into a monster! Better get as much food as you could and get out.

-Sorry, I think I got excited... - he said without looking at him. Reaching out, he picked up the bowl in front of his plate and took a sip.

Red followed the movement with cautious lights that ran to his own tall, narrow bowl, with a kind of handle on the side, in anticipation.

Cautiously he reached out and took it. It was of a strange, hard material, but not wood, stone or metal. The sides were still warm, not that it mattered, he had no skin to burn.

Bringing it to him, he spied the contents. Inside was a strange-looking liquid with a whitish foam on top. It felt almost like the puddles of rain at the entrance to his cave... he sniffed suspiciously at the dirty liquid, but the smell just made his mouth water without giving him any clue as to what it might be. Seeing the monster watching him, he turned the glass with despite, to prove that he was not afraid of the monster.

The liquid was still hot, not that it mattered much, he could have taken the liquid boiling, it wouldn't make any difference since he could control his magic to ignore the temperature.

He might not feel the heat, but he definitely could taste it, and for the stars! That was delicious! The liquid was thicker than water and sweeter than any fruit that he already tasted. It felt so good that he turned the mug over at once, his tongue coming out to lick the last of the remains from the bowl.

A hand pulled the container gently and he growled trying to keep it, clinging insistently, not ready to give up without first sucking up to the last drop.

-I'll fill it up again for you. - Said the monster gently trying to take the bowl from Red's claws.

Reluctantly (just because there was a promise of more), Red dropped the bowl and the monster turned to the metal box and the bowls on it. Red did not unglue the monster's lights, eagerly anticipating that sweet delight.

He thought, with regret, that he couldn't share it with Edge. He couldn't keep the liquid inside himself, not when he already had the bread and the cherries in the magic pocket he had created (not to mention that take away solid things was easy, but liquid? He was sure he couldn't do it without making a mess and waste the precious liquid).

The monster returned in moments and deposited the bowl on the table, but as soon as Red launched himself at it, the monster removed it. Red looked at him angrily and betrayed and the monster just stared back with a raised eyebrow without being intimidated.

-Expect to cool down a little.

Red wanted to send him fuck off, but decided to play nice for now. After all, it is better not to antagonize him (not when the monster could take the precious bowl from him). Seeing his displeasure the monster pushed his plate towards him and Red was quick to grab the half-eaten bread before the monster changed its mind.

The monster sat down and deposited the bowl on the table again. Red stared at the vapor floating on the liquid, but did not reach for it. He was soon distracted when the monster said again.

-As I was saying, I'm sure I could teach you how to pretend to be a monster and have a safer life.

Still on it? Thought Red with dismay. He just wanted to take the tasty liquid and get some more of the monster's supplies before he left, never to go back to that windsock again. Rolling his lights on, he decided to put an end to these nonsense.

-Oh of course! And since you are so sure, how about telling me how you would do that? Or what would you do with that? - He spoke pointing to his growing horns (they were still small, but one day they would be big and only the sight of them would make the monsters fear him). He had a good idea of what the monster was going to suggest.

His progenitor had alerted him to monsters like that. Monsters that would cut off its tail and pluck its horns and leave it for a slow death. Contradicting (once again) his expectations, the monster shrugged.

-Many monsters have horns and tails. You will be no different. We can say that you are the cross between a skeleton monster and a goat or bovine monster.

Remembering the bull monster that had chased him, he grimaced, insulted that he even thought he was partly like him. The monster looked at him and smiled, its red lights shining with amusement and understanding, probably remembering his clash from minutes ago.

The monster propped his elbows on the table and crossed his fingertips before leaning slightly towards Red, who flinched a little instinctively. Without seeming to notice the little demon hesitation, he continued with the lights shining greedily.

-You could have a better life! Without starving or fearing other monsters, at least not because it is what it is. Could you... - He broke off when he saw the child shaking his head.

-Wait there... And what do you get out of it?

The monster fell silent and watched him, looking surprised. He dropped his hands and leaned back in his chair, his lights fixed on the table. His contemplative expression seemed to be coming up with was thinking the next lie.

Red suddenly felt tired.

He just wanted to get out, go back to his cave and his little brother, where things were simple and he didn't have to deal with strangers' delusions.

He almost did, sliding to the edge of the chair, ready to jump and make a run for the fire box to grab some of the food there and then jump out the window (he glanced sadly at the bowl, but honestly it was starting to seem less and less tempting to listen to the other's litany, even if the reward was sweet nectar).

-Satisfaction, I believe.

The response caused Red to stall, his escape plans aborted temporarily. Seeing his surprise, the monster crossed its long legs and seemed to relax even more in the chair before elaborating its enigmatic answer.

- In concrete terms, this small offer would not benefit me at all, except for the satisfaction of a "good deed".

The way he spoke it seemed like there was more to it, but the monster didn't elaborate any more.

Red digested the monster's words, reviewing and analyzing them and the tone and posture of the other, trying in every way to decipher what he was saying.

He did not understand. Would he not gain anything? Just the satisfaction of helping him? This... this was absurd!

Nobody would do anything for others if they didn't get something in return. At least that was how it was with his people. Monsters were so strange!

Enough! He was done with it.

The best (and easiest) food would not be worth all this talk (which was starting to give him a headache from trying so hard to understand the enigma that was the monster, not to mention all the tension of being in the presence for so long and in a monster's lair).

No more wasting time with this monster. He had to go back and check on his little brother (and share his “hunt”). This conversation was getting nowhere. Time to test how far the “goodness” of that skeleton went.

-Not. - Said categorically.

The monster blinked. His surprised expression withered and became one of sadness and then conformism.

-I understand.

He answered simply and Red waited alert and ready in case the monster finally attacked him, now that Red has made it clear that he would not cooperate with his absurdities. The seconds passed and Red prepared to get up again when the monster spoke.

-Your chocolate must be cold already.

Red blinked and after a moment he followed the monster's lights and found himself staring at the bowl. The monster got up and Red jumped to his feet. The two stared at each other for another impassive moment before the monster smiled placidly.

-Drink your chocolate, I'll prepare a bag for you to take. If you can't accept my offer, at least accept my help.

Without waiting for an answer, the monster turned and left the room, going further into the den. It only took Red a second to consider what to do. Reaching out, he grabbed the bowl and turned it over, swallowing it all in one gulp (he regretted not being able to stop and properly enjoy the taste, but he wasn't going to waste easy food like that).

Dropping the empty bowl on the table he ran over to the fire box and grabbed as many of the strips of meat hanging above (he wondered what exactly it was, they looked like string beans and smelled like the dried meat he prepared for the winter months).

Throwing it over his shoulder, he went to the counter and grabbed the rest of the bread and the box of yellow cream.

He wanted to be able to take more stuff, but not carry it and not even time to spend searching. He wasn't going to stay and wait for the monster to return (what if he came back with a gun, or with other monsters to arrest him? Or more of that crazy conversation... Better not risk it).

Climbing up on the counter, he reached the window and jumped into the garden on the other side. A quick glance showed that the garden was deserted. He then ran to the low stone wall and passed easily.

This monster's lair was next to the largest lair in the monster territory, which due to its size was further away from the other lairs and closer to the forest.

He sneaked across the terrain, keeping himself crouched so as not to be noticed, until he reached the trees. Under the shadows of the forest he straightened up and started running, taking care to take several detours and cross the river (using all the tricks he had been taught and learned from experience) before heading to his lair.

As he ran, he thought it wasn't such a horrible date. What had seemed like the end for him (and his brother) when he was caught by the monsters, turned out to be an easy meal for him and his little brother (and even the rocks he took or the strange conversation was a small price for what he hoped would be a few days without hunger, and a icredible story to tell).

Not bad at all!

[catsitta]

This Way Up: Post Mortem

500 Days ago I started a daily drabble project known as Handle with Care. I expected it to be about 100 chapters, but as time passed, the plot and characters evolved. It became a longer and more important story than I ever expected. It came to an end after 250 days of dedicated drabbles. You can find my post-mortem for that fic here.

By the time I finished HwC I knew there were questions left unanswered. Mysteries that couldn't be explained in a sequel. Or at least not a tradition sequel. This Way Up was the much requested pre-sequel to Handle with Care, which is to say one shouldn't read it before Handle with Care, but the events occured beforehand. These last 250 days allowed me to share Sans' childhood and explain some of the character's actions in HwC with some much needed context.

From being babybones to the day he meets Red, TWU needed to cover a lot of ground in 250 chapters. Unlike HwC there aren't distinct arcs, as the story isn't focused on romance and drama and friendship, but on growing up and losing one's way. This all ties into the name choice for the fic. All the installments of the series are, of course, moving puns, relating to the themes of the series as a whole. This Way Up/This Side Up is text one can find on the side of moving boxes, so one doesn't end up accidentally, well, breaking or disturbing the contents of what is in a box by putting it down upside down.

The reason I chose this for the title was twofold. The significance of disobeying the instruction (the contents breaking) as well as to play off the saying 'When you've hit rock bottom, the only way left to go is up.' Sans spent his early childhood doing everything 'right'. He was a child prodigy that became a prolific student and had every opportunity open for him. Sans could have been anything. But like many gifted children, a rigid and structured youth didn't exactly prepare him with any coping skills for when things went wrong. He starts drinking young and even tries to sneak cigarettes from his father (risky behaviors are common in intelligent youths), and tends to use denial to cope with stress, depression and anxiety. He's a workaholic running on empty, and the resets break him. Why work hard when it can all just be gone at the whims of a child?

Like Father, Like Son

Sans and Gaster have a lot in common. His emotional depth being that of a teaspoon? His denial of any problem with 'I'm fine'? Unhealthy habits and work-until-you-drop mentallity? His obsessiveness? Even their priorities being family over work in the end are parallel. Sans, in the depth of his mental break, obsesses over Papyrus, and keeping him close and safe. Gaster has to helplessly watch his own son fall apart and his love for him never falters as he wants much the same for Sans. He is baffled and betrayed by Sans spurning him, and while he tries to stay in Papyrus' life, Sans makes it very difficult. This whole, complicated situation leads to how we see their relationship in HwC. Where Gaster is often at wits end with Sans, questioning his choices (because he hasn't made very good ones over the past few years), and Sans, despite telling Gaster to stay away from Papyrus, defends him when Red assumes the worst.

Webdings and the Fell Brothers

One of the more mysterious figures in HwC is Webdings Fell. Red and Edge's dead by suicide father, who had a brilliant mind and a drinking problem so bad he'd been demoted from the labs before his death. He's Gaster's contemporary but his gruff, outright unpersonable nature keeps him from achieving the same status. However, Sans respects and has fond memories of the man, though he never insinuates he is ever anything more than coworkers with him, despite their shared experience with the LOADs. Sans spends his last years in the lab before his own mental break in denial about Web's drinking issue, too focused on other things.

A common question is why Sans never sought out Edge. Ever. The answer really is simple. He was in no state to do so. His own trauma and floundering health meant that he could barely take care of himself and Papyrus, and he spent the better part of those early years passively 'ignoring' the fact that there were two babybones born, and that he left one in Web's care. In a maladaptive attempt to preserve the first Papyrus, who most certainly did not have a brother, Sans 'forgot' about Edge. And even when Web died and he let himself remember, he didn't seek out the boy because he was Web's son. Not his. Web's. Web adopted and raised him. And like everyone else who knew of Web's passing, assumed the man had some plan for his children after his death (a family member, perhaps, since he was so private about his life), never imagining Red would assume a parental role.

Coming of Age and Loss of Identity

Who is Sans? Because Sans realizes in TWU that he doesn't really know. Much of TWU is based in the idea of a gifted child first trying to live up to his family's expectations, then that of society...and ultimately developing no sense of self or worth even when achieves by 18 more than some do in their lifetime. This lack of strong sense of self and self-esteem leaves him vulnerable to the depression and anxiety that come with the LOADs. He is helpless, no amount of brains will get him out of his situation. Everything he has ever accomplished can be taken away at any given notice. And during one of the LOADs he loses all HOPE. That is the kind of despair that takes years to recover from and often leaves scars.

What Next?

While I am taking a break from this universe and not writing its next installment in 100 word drabbles...More will come. And in the future this time. The focus will be on Edge and a certain skeleton commonly known as Blue. Of course, I will every so often fill in this 'missing' years in the fic 'Moving Day' which is full of oneshots and spin off ideas. So thank you all for following me on this journey. I'll see you tomorrow for the next one.

[kittysukagasterfics]

Touch Starved

Note: I’m actually curious about everyone’s debate about Sam and Gaster’s argument. Anyway, onto the fic!

Handplates belongs to: @zarla-s

Requested by Anonymous

Summary: After getting into a small fight, Sam decides to ‘punish’ Gaster by not petting him. How long before he cracks under pressure?

     Gaster sighed as Sam took him and the brothers into the kitchen. Apparently the Human was in the mood to bake something today. Not that he was complaining of course as Gaster had found that he loved the Human’s cooking and look forward to it everyday. He was currently coming with them so he could, as he put it, ‘supervise Sam’ when Gaster was really hoping to steal a piece of whatever they decide to cook.

    “HUMAN SAM, WHAT ARE WE GOING TO BE BAKING?”

    “are we making cookies again? the ones with small brown pieces in them?”

     The Human washed their hands while the brothers bombarded them with questions. However, they just smiled and got all the ingredients and equipment the three of them would be needing. After collecting the items, Sam turned to the eager babybones.

     “*You tell the brothers that they’re going to help bake a cake...a caramel cake to be exact.” ‘*The brothers look really excited now.’

     Gaster, who had been playing on his phone, looked up when the Human said this.

    “Sam, you do know it’s pronounced ‘cara-mel’ right?”

      The Human looked over him with a confused expression and asked him what he’s talking about.

    “The word is pronounced with two syllables and you are pronouncing it with just one.”

    “*You tell him that you’ve always said ‘caramel’ with one syllable...because it’s the correct way.”

    “Well then you’re wrong, Sam. Because there’s two, not one...”

     The brothers giggled in amusement as Gaster and Sam began to bicker back and forth on how caramel is pronounced. What made this scenario even more hilarious to the two was that due to Sam’s height, it looked like a child having an argument with an adult. The brothers would never say this to the Human’s face though. After a few more minutes of repeated arguing, Sam finally put an end to it.

    “*You tell Gaster that if he’s just going to continue arguing with you, then he’s being punished.” ‘*He rolls his eye sockets at you...’

    “Human, I’m not a child. How do you exactly plan to ‘punish’ me?”

     Sam then declared that for the rest of the day, he won’t be getting any pets from them. Gaster scoffed at this statement, almost wanting to laugh at it.

    “Ok, Sam. I’ll just enjoy a day’s freedom of not being distracted from my work. Now, if you’ll excuse me...”

     Gaster left the room without another word, probably to have a smoke break. The Human just shook their head as they began to start making the cake with the brothers. They bet Gaster won’t be able to last very long without pets.

(Later)

    “*You give the brothers and Toby some pets on the head.” ‘*The brothers giggle while Toby barks excitedly.’

    “HEHE, THAT FEELS FUNNY, HUMAN SAM!”

    “it feels nice and soft though...”

     It was already noontime and he was already regretting his decision. Gaster had apparently underestimated the Human as they stayed true to their word, not petting him once throughout the day. However, the brothers and Toby still got all the pets they wanted. Gaster would be forced to sit there, silently fuming in jealously. Sure, he had gotten a lot of work done but that didn’t mean much anymore. Especially when Toby mocked him whenever Sam wasn’t looking.

    “Toby, go away. I have no time for your antics right now.”

     Gaster would then briskly walk away, leaving Toby to ‘gloat’ in his victory. It was absolute torture for Gaster though. Every time the Human reached up, whether it be to grab something off the shelves or just to stretch their arms, he would get this strange feeling in his SOUL. Almost like a fluttering sensation. Of course, it was just false hope for him. That night while everyone was back in the cells fast asleep, Gaster couldn’t concentrate on any of his work. But he had dug his own grave, so now he had to lie in it. He ended spending the remainder of the night pacing and not sleeping.

(The Next Day)

     Gaster felt like he was going insane. It’s been twenty-four hours and yet the Human still hasn’t given him any pets. Were they upset with him about something else maybe? That was hard to believe but Gaster couldn’t narrow it down to any other option. Since he didn’t get any work done last night, he was attempting to get some done now but Gaster still couldn’t concentrate. So now he was sitting on his office couch trying to distract himself by playing with the color cube. It didn’t really help any as his thoughts and paranoia were just too much.

     Gaster was so preoccupied that he didn’t even hear Sam walking up behind him. That was until they started running their hands against his skull, causing him to stiffen up. The Human giggled as the obsessive petting eventually fuzzed him, although Gaster didn’t seem to care at the moment. Sam had saw how twitchy and anxious the lack of petting had made the scientist. They couldn’t let that continue any longer. Besides, Gaster’s punishment was already over.

    ‘*You start to apologize to him when Gaster suddenly pushes you on your back.’

     The Human squeaked in surprise at his sudden action but continued to pet and fuzz him, all while giving him kisses on his forehead. They decided not give Gaster punishments like this in the future. Even though the small affection he was giving them was very nice. Sam spent the rest of the morning giving their lover all the pets and kisses he wanted and needed.

    ‘*You think you see a small flash of green glow in Gaster’s eye socket....’

Note: Poor Gaster, he needs more affection in his life. Well, more than Asgore and Alphys are always providing. Anyway, thank you everyone so much for reading this fic! I love all of you! Stay tuned for more.

[aka-indulgence]

Yo! Im in a babybones phase.. what if reader and AMitS would do the making, and reader 1. Tells Him she's pregnant. 2. How he is during labour 3. How they raise the little one. 4. I love babybones.. give me fluff ♥

Yup, of course ;)

1. He’d be… shocked, though he shouldn’t be, he loves the fuck out of you… B-but he actually created life… With you?! He kind of panics while also having euphoria at the same time… He’s going to start a family with you. His precious sweetheart… After he gets over the stage of “oh god, i’m gonna be a FATHER”, he is very very happy and is going to pamper the hell out of you, constantly rubbing your stomach, nuzzling it, being 10x more loving- and he was already pretty clingy and affectionate before that. He never never never wants to leave you alone, and you’ll have less privacy- which wasn’t much to begin with. His possessiveness also spikes- while he’s gotten you chained to him for carrying his- no, their baby, he really doesn’t want you going out much and potentially meeting- heaven’s forsake- someone other than him. He’ll let his family take care of you because of his trust in them- but anyone else, he’ll want to kill if they so much as get too close to you.

2. Again- panicky. When the water breaks when he was just holding you in bed after months of pregnancy- he flips his shit. He’s going to immediately carry you bridal style and ask if you’re hurting, if you’re uncomfortable- what the fuck is he supposed to do?! It’s not until you tell him in a calm voice that you should go to a hospital that he’ll go “y-yeah. you’re right, yeah. i should… we should do that.”When you and him get there he’s going to be pretty demanding and that he needs his girl in a room NOW, or else he’ll- “Sans… It’s ok.”… Yeah, he needs to calm down.When you get a room he’s holding your hand, giving it gentle rubs and absolutely not wanting to let go even as you writhe and twist and gripped his phalanges until they go numb and he feels like they’re going to pop off from how rough you grabbed his fingers- he knows you’re having much much worse pain even if he’s already angrily bellowed at the doctors and nurses to give you anesthetic… His affections for you will grow with every contractions you give until…. Your- His- “ours” was born into the world, with a small cry that just melts his soul and he just wants to pull you and the baby close into an embrace that he’ll protect- and do anything to protect.

3. You’re a very loving mother- and Sans is a very loving father- and… husband?! You’re not married legally- with Sans’ line of work, but basically you are. There’s a crib in the bedroom and toys and a playpen in the living room… And he’s got the basement baby-proofed. Of course now you have free roam outside and inside the basement- though he’s going to be with you every step of the way. He does work less- but he’ll have the money to keep you living very comfortably with the baby. He’s very cuddly with everyone and really really likes to cradle not only the baby- but you as well. He may be a criminal, but he’s going to protect his babies from it. He’ll be as overprotective of the baby as much as you- always supervising. He’s also as possessive as you as much as he is during pregnancy… And the kid. But somehow- since the little tyke is half-monster- he has trust in ‘em than he does you in being alone once they get older, around teen years with their magic- but that’s not saying very much as he’s still very overprotective.… Not sure how school would work… They’d probably be taught by you, since Sans also wasn’t ‘properly’ educated… And he doesn’t quite trust other people with his baby.

4. ;)

You were sleeping that night, the baby in the crib. Sans hadn’t come home yet… The little babybones was already asleep. You’re glad that apparently your baby has apparently taken to you in being quiet, with their worst tantrum only lasting an hour or so, with mostly little breaks in them. You’ve fed them tonight and they’ve quickly tired themselves out. Sans hasn’t come home yet oddly, and it’s already quite late. You’re sure he’s ok, you’ve texted him (he’s given you a phone now that you’re officially his family) to make sure…

Sans: i’ll be home soon bby. love you

… He’s so sweet sometimes…

You were tired and exhausted, and you were about to doze off…

When you heard quiet little whimpers coming from the crib.

You yawned, stumbling over to the crib and picking up your baby, quietly shushing them back to sleep… When they quickly nuzzled onto your chest, gripping onto the fabric of your shirt, making cute little hums that you- just couldn’t put them back down..

“… (y/n)?”

You turned around to see Sans at the door, a tired look on his face and his clothes messy… He took in the sight in front of him, in the dark, the lights off with only a little night light in the room…

And he promptly strode over to you, scooped you and the baby in his arms, and crashed into bed gently, keeping mind of the baby’s head.

“S-Sans?” You sounded as he quickly cuddled the both of you into his chest, the baby between both of you, giving the little one a peck on the head before peppering you face in kisses.

“… fuck,” He breathed, taking in your face and his baby in the middle, “i love comin’ home to ya, sweetheart, baby…” He gushes, giving you more kisses and squishing the baby a little- which wasn’t enough to crush them- and apparently they enjoyed, because they shook around a little before snuggling comfortably between you.

… He still can’t believe… He’d started a family with his precious human.. And now he has a beautiful, lovely baby with you… He’s going to cherish them, and you. He’s going to make sure they grow up better than him- hopefully affected by you, much better than him… And he’ll teach them how to protect themselves so they can keep moving on once he’s gone… Which won’t be soon. He’s going to give them all the love they deserve- with you.

He’ll make sure to make things right with his baby…

He sniffed the head of his baby before fixing their position between the two of you before he does his signature wrap around you, huddled around the baby protectively- and keeping you close. He sighed… And he nestled his head into your neck as the three of you dozed off….

[sansy-fresh]

Little Stripes

just some Kedgeup hurt/comfort lol

tags: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Pregnancy, Talk of Pregnancy, Child Death, mentioned child death, its not depicted, but its pretty explicit, its not their child, its underfell children, because underfell is a shithole, i love writing these two, otp for sure

ao3 link

For a long, long, long time, Edge really thought he’d never get to be a mom. A big thing in his universe was to never have kids unless you could help it, or unless you were one of the last of your kind, or unless the damn king had told you to, but that in itself was rare as hell. The main rule was that kids get killed. That’s it.

Stripes meant little to hunger. Stripes meant even less to natural disasters, or sickness, or just... monsters lost to their LV.

Edge had seen many… far too many little striped sweaters laying in piles of dust for his dreams at night to be anything pleasant.

So of course, coming to the surface where children ran free and rode their bikes down the roads and played in parks with minimum adult supervision was… mind boggling. He had, at first, wanted to tell each and every one of their parents just how easily their children could be lost to them. How many parents he’d seen mourning their children because they weren’t absolutely perfect in keeping an eye on them. He wanted to scream to the world how unfair it was that his kind had suffered, that children had suffered, all while humans were so carefree in their ways.

But… after being up there a few years, after meeting Sans, falling for the comedian, and even getting married and settled down after so long… he began thinking about what it might be like to consider having a little family of their own. It began as a small thought, a wisp of an idea, before it grew into something he’d almost consider a desire.

The problem was that Sans had never shown interest in kids, other than the Ambassador. As far as Edge was aware, Sans was actually the child’s adoptive father, and every other weekend the kid came to stay the night. Edge enjoyed it when they came over, Frisk being a little bundle of joy on some occasions and a quiet, contemplative child on others. It was an enjoyable time every time, something that put Edge more and more on the side of wanting a child of his own.

It was Frisk that had Edge wondering if… if Sans had ever considered it. Having children with him, having a family, giving Frisk a little sibling, seeing as how Sans seemed to actually consider Frisk as his , if not his child then family. But Sans had never mentioned it, had never even talked about it as a passing thought, or a joke. So Edge was left unsure if Sans was truly uninterested, or perhaps had simply never given the thought its full due contemplation.

So, as Edge sat the remaining plates of food down in front of his husband, who was currently busy trying to figure out the crossword before their breakfast meal, he decided he would ask. Of course, maybe bringing up having a child when Sans had a full mouthful of eggs was perhaps not the best timing.

“I think I’d like to have a child.”

Sans choked, hands coming up to his mouth so pieces of egg didn’t go flying, his pseudo throat working hard to swallow what he’d managed to keep down before he glanced up with watery eyes, panting. “Wanna, uh, wanna run that by me again?”

Edge looked down at his plate, picking at his own eggs with his fork. “I’d like to have a child. But if you don’t want to, we don’t have to.” He’d care. It’d hurt, if Sans rejected him now, but he’d learned to live with a lot of hurt in his life, and Sans’ comfort was more important than what Edge thought he wanted.

Sans swallowed a few more times, rubbing the front of his chest as he took a sip of coffee. Then, “How long have you been thinkin’ about it?”

Scooping up a bite of sausage, Edge took a bite. “A few months.”

Sans nodded, glancing down at his own food before he laid his arms on the table. A more serious, pose, which meant Edge was either getting denied (which was okay, it was, he’d be fine with no children), or he was going to say something out of the box that would stump Edge’s neural pathways for a moment. Edge could flip a coin, it’d be about the same probability.

“Is it because you want to be a parent, or because you think I’m not happy with what we’ve got?”

Second item it was. Edge took a moment to process that, then shook his head, staring at Sans. “I know you’re happy. I’m almost positive you’re very happy, since that’s what you were shouting last night.”

Sans blushed slightly, but raised a brow. Edge huffed.

“Its because…” taking a breath, he tried to put it into words. “Children weren’t so common in my world. It wasn’t until I saw your relationship with Frisk that I understood what it was really supposed to be like. That I… thought I might want it for myself.”

Sans was still looking at him, Edge’s face warming a little. “I just… would like to try to be a mom for a little babybones. Give Frisk a sibling. Raise a family with you.” and, in a quiet voice, “That’s all.”

The sound of Sans standing from his chair startled him into looking up, but Sans was already around the table and pulling him into his arms. He melted into the contact, the lack of instant rejection a balm to his anxious soul. Not that he really expected it of his husband, but some fears had no rationality to them.

“If you wanna try for a kid, I’m down.” Sans finally said after a long pause. Edge blinked back unbidden tears, the anxiety coiled around his soul finally letting loose. He took a deep breath, letting it out in a wet puff of air. The short arms around him tightened, Edge relaxing into them with a small grin.

“I’d like that.”

[teddy-feathers]

Prompt from @moss-flowers-trees not exactly fulfilled.

Up to No Good

-

Now it was well known that across the multiverse there was no Papyrus lazier than Stretch. After all, most took him as nothing more than a 'swapped' personality of Classic Sans and his brother.

That was their - a collective term here referring in a general way to the entirety of the multiverse and all of the alternates - first mistake.

Because a swapped Papyrus was still a Papyrus and all Papyri enjoyed a good jape.

Their second mistake was, as always, underestimating his brother.

Blue was a Sans in the way Stretch was a Papyrus, and from day one had resented being underestimated. Credit where its do, no one could do shenanigans like a Sans, especially his brother. It was as admirable as it was terrifying.

The last was more of a fortuitous boon, luck if one really wanted to be so crass, then a mistake on anyone's part and that was no one spoiled the fun.

So to set the stage, to really understand just how priceless the current situation of a nightmare carnival mirror image of him frothing in rage, you have to go back to the beginning.

Not the very beginning - though any good story should perhaps start there - for the sake of time, argument, and a joke that will only grow stale for having to wait for it, let it be assumed for the moment that Stretch is the center of the universe the second he and his brother stumble into a room full of strikingly unfamiliar faces in some sort of mirror maze of 'what ifs' and 'could have beens'.

Papyrus - one of many now, always? Apparently. - zones out, empty sockets not giving away his unfocused attention as Not his Brother Sans reluctantly and with much prodding from a much more handsome and friendly reflection Papyrus explains something about Universal Causality. What homeowners insurance had to do with this bowl of Flowey Flakes they found themselves in he missed, but at some point someone had pointed out that they couldn't all share the same name without even the most friendly of them wanting to dust the others like some bad Highlander reboot.

His brother, Blue now - cleverly claiming the Sans favorite color as his own - nudges him from a lovely little daydream back into the existential nightmare that was the current universe, and Papyrus folds his fingers together and lifts them above his head tilting this way with that until his back pops. This is met with disgusted looks from many faces around the room - most of them his own - and he slumps back comfortably into his hoodie. "Guess I'll go by Stretch."

Several voices protest of course, because life from now on was going to be lived by committee.

"Well That is certainly... unique Orange Me." Says Putting a Positive Spin on This With All His Might Papyrus - or Creampuff as he'd agreeably allowed Edgelord Papyrus to dub him.

"It is Ridiculous is what it Is." Protests the version of his brother that had wandered into a Hot Topic and had never left. "It doesn't Fit with the Already Established naming convention!"

It was times like this that he - The Papyrus who was going by Stretch for Spite now - was glad he had never bothered with the magic expenditure that was eyelights. Meant no one could see him roll his eyes.

There was no Convention - no real pattern for the group as a whole or even just through the pairs. Classic Sans - named such for his outdated old man jokes no doubt - seems to notice all the same and huffs out a laugh. "gotta say buddy, kinda agree - name like that seems like a stretch."

Blue looks as cross as Stretch feels but it would take someone who knew him well to see it. He grabs onto Strectch's arm in a show of solidarity and asks "Brother, why did you choose such a Unique name?" The way he says unique stands in tonal counterpoint to how Creampuff had said it, and Stretch smiles down at his older brother discarding the first three responses that come to mind.

No need to make his brother worry, or get labeled as the Depressing Papyrus right out the door - even if none of this did matter. "Cause bro, I'm the tallest one here."

Of course his brother immediately catches on, lights going to stars in a way that brightens his expression both figuratively and literally. "Nyeh heh heh of Course! How very Astute of you Stretch!"

Immediately several voices raise in protest, and boy did his own voice sound worse when amplified and played back a half dozen times, but it was worth it when his Blues cuts across the din to add with sly earnestness "I Knew my brother was the Coolest!"

This of course started a whole new argument that derailed the last and the rest should have been history.

But of course some part of him just couldn't let it go.

A universal constant for Papyri apparently was a vicious strain of competitiveness. And while Stretch could have let the jape die, it was nice to have something - no matter how fake - to lord over the other Oh So Talented versions of himself.

Literally in some cases.

Creampuff, if not a Perfect host, was unfailing in his attempts to fulfill that responsibility while the whole living arrangement situation was dealt with, that when Stretch's insomnia got the better of him he'd inevitably pop into the kitchen just to grab something off the top shelf for his better mirror's ungodly hours Breakfast Prep.

This was particularly satisfying as Creampuff apparently put everything up on the very top shelves and with the whole lot of them living there, something inevitably ended up pushed to the very back that he just Had to have. It was child's play - minus the murderer possessed doll - to time things that Stretch's arm could slip over his and pull done the item before he had a chance to grab it. Add that to some casual comment about the perks of being tall and...

It was inevitable that Edgy Mc My Chemical Romance would catch wind of the ongoing shenanigans. And unlike Creampuff who tried hard and was generally likable despite his Arrogance - another trait shared by those who shared his face . Edgelord didn't have a redeeming bone in his body. Made him insufferable... and a particularity sweet target for tomfoolery.

So when at some dinner or another that they all agreed to go to on occasion after they'd gotten their own places, and Edge once more started in about how obviously he was the Superior Specimen of the Skeleton Species, well Stretch wasn't going to take that lying down.

Or, well, he was laying on the Fell - the call sign they'd agreed to for their universe - Bro's couch. But he had lifted his hand and said in a deliberately matter of fact dry tone, "Not the tallest though."

It was like he had murdered their damn cat (who was a friendly surface beasty... if you didn't mind being considered a scratching post). Edge sputtered in rage and had dragged him upright by force, while Stretch uncooperative hug heavily like a rag doll in his unphased grip.

If Creampuff was the Handsome Papyus than Edge was the Strong Papyrus, it would have been easy to hate him just for that if he didn't so obligingly make himself as unlikable as he had. Of course with a little expended magic to give his brother the Babybones Look that worked every time, and Blue's quick intervention with a level and a bit of slight of hand - the fight was diverted and the Japery continued.

Perhaps the most agreeable of the versions that had clowned their way out of the Multiverse Machine that day was the one that went by Mutt. Agreeable in the sense he kept his head down, mouth shut, and kept away from all of them. That could be because his brother was annoying enough for the both of them, but Stretch thought an argument could be made that Mutt didn't consider himself a Papyrus at all - he'd already had the moniker long before the pageant had begun afterall.

Black combined the Worst of Stretch's brother and the Best - if that quality could even be ascribed to him - of Edge. A menace of a monster who honestly came across as the smallest of the Sans in a more convincing way than Stretch was the tallest of the Papyri... Not that anyone had dared mention it to him of course. Stretch was saving the observation for a special occasion.

For whatever reason the Tiny Tyrant had taken an exception to the idea that he was just the evil twin of Blue and went out of his way to be exceptionally petty about finding ways to make himself out to be the better version of his older brother.

Honestly it was a bother and Stretch tried to stay out if it since Blue Obviously could take care of himself but for whatever reason Black seemed to take Stretch's height as a challenge as much as any Papyrus... With the sole exception of Mutt.

Trying to recreate the circumstances of Edge's measuring contest between the Stretch and his own brother during a holiday social backfired spectacularly into Mutt curling even more into himself and Stretch - more than a little tipsy - actually challenging Mutt to see who could slump the most.

Mutt had shrunk so fast into his coat that his skull had almost vanished amidst the fluff like a turtle and Stretch had laughingly declared him the victor, pleasing Black and being the last time for years that anyone bothered with his height.

So now onto the present situation.

Edge had been so pleased when he ambushed him and his brother in the grocery store, smug about his six inch heeled boots and his mastery thereof, dying to show up Blue who also had an insatiable love of the damn feet death traps and he had turned to ice his cake by pointing out that with these he could be the tallest of the Papyri...

That annoying smirk whipped clean off as he met sockets - exactly level - with Stretch who didn't do more then smile back because this was the joke of the lifetime.

"How!" He choaks, the sweetest music to hear.

Stretch leans in even closer to whisper conspiratorially "I'm standing up straight."

This only makes Edge froth with rage and stomp off without ever noticing that Stretch had been standing on a divider on the floor giving him a physical lift along with the rise to his spirits when Edge's dropped like a man into a river with cement shoes.

Blue laughs, mood doing a 180 as quickly as Edge's. "You should have told him the Truth Stretch!"

"Mmm?" He hums curiously, moving to drap himself back atop the already half full cart. The other versions of himself were fun to get the goat of but they were exhausting even in small doses. "What that this place's floor is poorly designed? But he was being insufferable."

"Nope," His older brother says in an insufferable tone of his own - oh no, not one of his 'great' jokes. Those were the worst. "That the reason you're always going to be taller than the others is that you're always Up to No Good!"

Stretch groans and covers his skull with his arms, pushing the cart away with more vigor than he'd shown anything all day. "Title drops are the Height of bad comedy."

Of course that only makes Blue laugh harder.

[odderancyart]

Rottenberry 

Have some mermaids and sirens! Because, as someone might’ve figured out by now, I love mermaids and sirens a lot. 

Warning: Near-drowning, murder, suicide (technically), dead fish

Ice-cold water splashed over the railing, washing over him. The wind whined in his ears as it tore at his thin shirt. His arms were forced behind his back, and a steel cap shoe hit his knee, forcing him to kneel. Razz fell to the ground with a thump, grunting. Tearing at his arms, he sank his teeth into the arm of a sailor holding him down. As the sailor screamed, Razz let out another screech of pain as his spine was forced to bend too far backwards. Hard raindrops hit his face. Hammered down likes stones. A filthy rag was mashed into his mouth, tasting like rotten fish. Spitting, he tried to get it out, to little avail. He choked as it was pressed deeper into his mouth, hitting the back of his throat. Thick rope wrapped around his arms, far too hard.

“Drown the witch, kill the witch,” the crew chanted, their eyes shining with fury and bloodthirst. Razz’s soul pounded wildly in his chest as he stared at them, water dripping into his eye sockets. His arms were jerked upwards, and he hissed as flashes of agony went through them as they bent in unnatural positions. They forced him closer to the railing. A wave went over it, and he spluttered, gasping for air as the saltwater washed over him.

He stared down at the sea. It was furious. Dark, almost black. The waves rose high above the ship, looking harder than stone. Trashing in the sailors’ arms, he whimpered. The sound of waves was almost drowned out by the drumming of his soul as he was pressed against the railing. If he’d been able to speak, he would’ve begged. Begged for his life, he didn’t want to die.

Blue was waiting for him.

They’d accused him for being a witch. For creating this storm. If he hadn’t been so terrified, he would’ve laughed. He was on the ship as well, why would he want to sink it? He gaped around the gag as he stared down at the sea. His own tears mixed with the seawater on his face. The pain in his limbs all but disappeared as he stared down at the boiling ocean. They were insane. When they leaned him over the railing, his body shook with sobs. Please. Please no.

And then he was falling. A scream tore from him, muffled through the gag, before he hit the surface. Hard. The air in his lungs pressed out of him, agony tearing through his body. The waves pressed him under, making him tumble beneath the water. Rage pulsed through him for the briefest second, before it disappeared, exchanged for pure mind-splitting fear. Black dots appeared before his eyes.

Music. As he gasped in the water, desperate for oxygen, he heard music. The liquid rushed through him, burning but not painful. The tunes were the most beautiful thing he’d ever heard. Even more beautiful than Blue’s singing. Around him, the water seemed to calm, and suddenly he wasn’t being thrown around anymore. He was floating, in the middle of the water. Unmoving.

Shapes moved toward him, and then around him. Black, dark, in the water. The freezing cold of the water turned pleasant, and he felt himself relax. The burning of salt in his sockets ebbed away. The shapes came closer, and Razz gaped. People. They were people. Monsters and humans, with fins, and fangs, and skin in colours he had never seen before. They grinned at him, fangs at full display.

“Hello, new sister,” one of them, a woman, said, swimming up to him. Her black hair stood like shadowy fire around her head. Even though she wasn’t singing, her voice was melodic. Lovely. He blinked at the term, and strangely enough felt no fear as she grabbed him and turned him around. Soon, the rope fell from his arms. “Welcome to the sisterhood of sirens. We heard your screams. Your fear and fury. And we answered.”

The singing increased, haunting, powerful. It surrounded him, and soon it was all that existed. Razz closed his eyes, feeling it embrace him. Then the song died out. When he opened them again, he held up and arm, gaping. The white bones were no longer white, instead almost black, tinted purple. Purple claws protruded from his fingers, sharp and deadly. And his legs- they were no more. In their place, a powerful aubergine-coloured fin beat against the water, holding him up. 

Sirens, they said? He grinned, raising a hand to his teeth. Under his fingertips, his teeth had turned into fangs. Of course he knew what sirens meant. He laughed triumphantly. That seemed to be everything they needed. Another song began, and he joined in, finding that he knew all the words. With them, he swam toward the ship.

When his attempted murderers willingly threw themselves into the raging sea, he laughed loudly. He would never see Blue again, but by god would he make the ones responsible regret it.

…

The sea was peaceful. Still and calm and clear blue. So was the sky. Cloudless. Blue smiled as he slowly made his way down the ancient wooden staircase, down the hill on which their cottage lied. Every day the last one hundred and eleven years, he’d walked this staircase. Ever since he learned how to. Not one day had passed without him not going down to the sea, even the stormiest ones. The breeze was fresh, caressing his bones. The night before it had stormed, and the air had never been this clean. His children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren were in the cottage. They were crying. That made him both sad and happy at once.

While he didn’t wish for them to be sad, it was good to know they’d miss him. He stepped into the water, which gently lapped at the beach. Dug his toes into the golden sand. A shiver travelled up his spine at the chill, and his smile widened. Above, the sun shone brightly. It was the spring equinox.

Breathing in the air, he looked out over the sea. This was the exact spot he’d stood on ninety years earlier, when a courier had come to tell him his fiancé had drowned. Drowned on his last trading mission before their wedding. Not a single sailor had survived, the ship lost to the sea. After that, he’d come down here every night for a year, desperately hoping to find Razz washed up on the beach. Even knowing it was impossible.

Eventually, he’d been forced to admit it wouldn’t happen. He’d restarted his life. Five years later, he’d married a lovely woman from the village, who he still loved, twenty years after her natural death. It wasn’t the same love he’d had for Razz. It hadn’t burned, made him want to scream it to the skies. Rather, it had been a calm, domestic kind of love. Simple, and good. He’d been happy. To this day, he missed her.

Even so, he’d never stopped loving Razz. She had known, and accepted it, and loved him more for it. Now, exactly twenty years after she died, and ninety years since Razz died, he was ready to go himself. He’d lived his life, and he’d been happy. Now he wanted to depart the world in peace.

According to village tradition, those who loved the sea the most were welcome to get their last rest there during solstices and equinoxes, even if they were not sailors. Blue was among them. Even after it had taken Razz, he’d never stopped loving it.

The water was freezing cold, and his teeth chattered as he walked into the ocean. His ceremonial white robes floated on the surface, like the seafoam they were meant to represent. His soul beat contently. The sea was calling for him, he could hear it sing. Hear the music of the waves and of the deep. Not like the siren song they’d hear in the distance during stormy nights, but rather like the lullabies his parents had sung when he was a babybones. The same lullabies, about the sea and moon and merpeople and seals, as he had sung for his own descendants.

The water washed over him, and he smiled as he sank below. Despite the tales he’d heard about the pain of drowning, Blue felt only a comforting presence as he closed his eyes, allowing the currents to take him. It was still cold, but slowly it turned into the pleasant sort. Even when he stopped breathing, he didn’t suffocate. The sea’s song grew louder in his ears, in the whooshing of the current. Opening his eyes again, he gaped, a shocked smile escaping him. His bones were a dark blue, much like the water itself. A powerful blue and yellow fin had grown over his legs.

Stories were told about how humans and monsters could become mermaids, but he had never quite believed them. Yet, as he kicked off with his fin, tumbling in the water from the force, he felt excitement grow. Seemed like they were true. Blue found that he was even breathing, underwater.

In the distance, he could see people swimming toward him. The view was clear, despite him being underwater. Smiling, he swam to meet them.

…

Lounging at a rock, Razz expertly caught the swordfish Sash threw at him. With one swift movement, he tore up the wriggling thing’s gills with his fangs. It died instantly, blood turning the water red. Sometimes they’d play with their food, but he was fucking hungry. Around him, his sisters took their places on the small reef, digging into their own lunches. They were all half-starved. Fish was good and well, but it wasn’t what they were meant to eat. Nothing satiated their hunger like human flesh. Unfortunately, there had been oddly few ships lately.

Jeering came from the distance, and he perked up. As he chewed the meat, he raised an eyebrow, trying to see what the sound was all about. The sisterhood was big, these days. His attempted drowning had been one of the first in a long line, and there were many victims who wanted revenge. They were always more than happy to help. Revenge against those who had wronged them all was almost as tasty as their flesh.

“What’s going on?” he asked Ariadne, who just came from behind a small cave. She grinned widely at him, fangs gleaming in the sunlight. His tail swept along the side of the rock.

“They’ve found a merperson. A new-born one, even.”

Oh? Swallowing his fish whole, Razz kicked away from the rock, swimming to her side. “Show the way.”

Licking the last sweet-tasting blood of his fingers, he followed her toward one of the underwater caves a short distance away. The cold water swept over his bones, gentle and comfortable. As much as those stuck-up merpeople liked to claim Thalassa, the great goddess of the sea, favoured them, Razz could only see its softness combined with the fact that the sirens existed as proof that they were wrong.

The sound of nervous peeping reached him first. Blinking, he stopped. That… sounded familiar. He shook his head. No, it couldn’t be anything. Just his imagination. Pressing the thought out of his mind, he entertained the thought of what they would do with a merperson. If his sister had taught them, they must’ve been in their territory. Stupid of them.

Passing by another reef, he caught sight of the merperson. They were held in place by Naberius and Nadja, the twins. Their pastel-coloured tail trashed, and they were staring at them in bewilderment. When he chuckled, Razz got their attention. Their head twisted around to look at them. Their eyes met. Cerulean eyelights met his. Razz froze. His soul started pounding as he stared at them, and they gaped.

“Razz?” they asked.

“Blue?”

[vex-bittys]

Undertale Interactive Dating: Round 2 (Bonus: Fellby Date)

Since Underfell Grillby didn’t even make an appearance in Round 2, he got his own separate fic and date with the reader. I hope the wait was worth it, and Round 3 of Undertale Interactive Dating will be starting soon.

You met a handsome fire elemental at a bar, and he’s wooed you into going on a date with him. What could possibly go wrong?

Contains: mild language, major character death

You follow Red down the slushy Snowdin street to a bar and restaurant with a warm glow shining out of the large front windows. The word “Grillby’s” is printed across the windows, larger than life in gold leaf which shows beautifully against the polished dark wood of the building. It actually looks pretty expensive. You try to tell Red that you can’t afford a fancy dinner, but he waves you off.

“it’s on me, sweetcheeks,” he reassures you.

Red holds the door open for you, and you step through into more opulence and high-end decor. The lighting inside the bar is tastefully low with high-backed booths to ensure privacy and open tables for large groups. You even see dogs playing poker. Not the painting “Dogs Playing Poker” but actual dog playing actual poker!

The dogs speak in low angry vices full of growls, and one of them even has a knife out. You press closer into Red. He pats your arm and chuckles.

“don’t worry about them. Grillby doesn’t let anyone get too unruly in here. bad for business, y’know.” His words would be more comforting if you knew how much unruliness constitutes being “too unruly.” Still, when Red leads you to a booth with plush leather benches, you seat yourself, and he slides in across from you.

A purple fire elemental saunters over to your table like he owns the place, which it turns out he does. He’s dressed sharply but flamboyantly in a fur-collared suit bedecked in gold- chains, buttons, the rings on his fingers. Everything about the fire elemental is smooth and decadent like gourmet chocolate. Even the flames atop his head dance in a controlled and stylistic chaos.

“Nice try, Red,” the fire elemental purrs in a silky voice, “but you can’t pay your tab with a human, no matter how lovely they are.”

You beat Red to the punch with a snappy retort, not liking the implications of the flame monster’s words. “You couldn’t afford me.” You cross your arms defiantly over your chest.

“the human got ya there, Grillbz,” Red laughs, slapping the table in glee at your open sass.

Grillby peers at you over the top of his sunglasses, the sunglasses that he is wearing inside the restaurant. You can see the arrangement of flames that compose his facial expression form into an arched eyebrow. When he chuckles, the sound is rich and deep.

“A treasure beyond even my wealth? I’d believe it,” He says, taking your hand and lifting it to his mouth for a warm, gentle kiss. “I’ll be making today’s special for you myself, treasure. Compliments of the chef, of course, and trust me, there will be plenty more compliments to follow if you continue to grace my establishment with your presence.”

“i never get anything compliments of the chef,” Red complains.

“There’s not much about you to compliment now is there, Red?” Grillby teases. Red blows a rude raspberry at the fiery bartender.

“one a these days i’m gonna leave ya for a bartender who treats me right.”

“Just like one of these days you’re going to pay your tab, right Red?”

“ya know me too well, Grillbz.”

Grillby smirks in a decidedly sultry manner before heading back behind the long bar counter and into the kitchen. You make small talk with Red while you wait for your food. He tells you stories of his brother as a babybones and dishes dirt on the denizens of the Underground. Your food arrives during a lull in one of Red’s long, convoluted anecdotes.

Grillby sets two covered trays on the table, one in front of you and one in front of Red. Red flips the cover off of his meal immediately and begins to empty a squeeze bottle of mustard wantonly over the contents of his plate. You see noodles, sauce, and ground beef. Is that…?

“Is that Hamburger Helper?” you ask incredulously. You are under the impression that this is a fine dining restaurant.

“That’s what he eats every time he comes here,” says Grillby with a delicate sigh. “Of course I made something infinitely more elevated for you, treasure.”

“hey, I like Hamburger Helper!” squawks Red, spraying his questionable mouthful of food across the table. You and Grillby recoil in disgust. “‘s already pretty mushy, so it’s less work to chew!” He shoves another forkful into his mouth. The sight of Red eating is like a train wreck that you can’t stop watching until your stomach reminds you that you’re desperately hungry.

Grillby removes the metal dome from your plate with a flourish, revealing a beautifully plated five-star gourmet dinner with ingredients you don’t even recognize. It smells heavenly, though, and you dig in, eating slowly and chewing each bite unlike Red who is on the verge of tossing aside his utensils to eat with his bare hands. You hope he’s just trying to be funny. You think that maybe he’s serious.

Grillby waits politely while you sample a bite or two of each item on your plate. You’ve never tasted anything so delicious in your life. You don’t even want to stop eating long enough to tell Grillby how amazing it is, but you refuse to be rude and keep him waiting.

“It’s perfect,” you tell him.

“I must admit, I found a bit of perfection to inspire me,” he murmurs to you. Your cheeks light up as if they’re made of fire as well. Is this suave fire elemental flirting with you? His confident smirk indicates a resounding yes. You lift your napkin to your face in a futile attempt to hide your flustered blush, but Grillby is going in for the kill.

“Is there any way I could convince you to do me the honor of adorning my arm at a concert this evening at the MTT resort?”

“I’m not dressed for-” you begin to protest.

“Treasure, clothing can be changed. I’m not requesting a date with your outfit. I’m requesting a date with you. If anyone takes issue, that is their problem, not ours.” His smirk widens into an earnest smile. He’s tall, handsome, and unbelievably well-spoken, but that doesn’t mean it’s safe to just run off with him to parts unknown. You turn to Red for advice.

Red’s bright crimson eyelights are crossed, staring at a stray noodle that has somehow found its way onto the top of his nasal ridge. He’s trying to dislodge it with a tongue made of ecto-magic. He’s so preoccupied that it takes him a moment to realize that you require his attention.

“yea, yea, go with Grillby, sweetcheeks. i’ve survived with nobody for this long…” Red snorts at his own joke and the noodle gets sucked into his nasal cavity. He coughs in surprise.

Grillby slaps Red’s back, and Red burps the noodle out of his mouth and onto the table. “Don’t eat that,” scolds Grillby.

“spoil sport,” grumbles Red.

The purple fire monster extends a hand to help you stand up. You hold onto his elbow as he leads you to the center of his bar and restaurant. “Bar’s closed. Everyone out,” he announces. The monsters within shuffle to the door without much fuss. Red is the last one out, and he gives you one of his saucy winks as he passes you.

“don’t keep ‘em out too late Grillbz,” he warns playfully.

“I wouldn’t dream of keeping them out for any longer than they wish to be.” Grillby gives you another of his heart-stopping smiles. “Shall we?” he asks you, gesturing down the main thoroughfare. “We could go by boat, or we could walk.”

You consider the options. Walking alongside a fire elemental through a snowy forest sounds lovely, though he explains that your destination is in Hotland and the path to get there will take you through scenic Waterfall instead of Snowdin forest. Scenic sounds nice, so you agree to walk.

You stroll up and down the various trails in Waterfall alongside Grillby. The fire elemental points out natural features and ancient symbols of monsterkind, anything that he feels might interest you. You notice that other monsters you encounter nod to Grillby or simply ignore him and continue along on their business. It’s clear that Grillby is affluent and respected, but he isn’t treated with hostility or fear.

When you crane your neck to stare at a particularly interesting monster, he gently rests his hand over yours where you’re still clinging to his jacket. He offers to take you down a less frequented path if you’re frightened by the abundant monsters, but you tell him that you feel safe with him.

“As you should, treasure.” His purple flames take on a slightly blue hue around the edges. Is the confident, smooth-talking bartender blushing?

When you arrive at the resort a short walk later, the bird monster at the door greets Grillby as if he’s a familiar face. “Your usual table, sir?” she asks him, barely sparing you a glance.

“Which table suits you best, treasure? Take your pick.” Grillby gestures to the array of tables in front of the stage. You select one near the center, perfect for a good view, but not too close to the stage. You don’t want to sit under a spotlight.

You point out the table to the hostess, and she leads you and Grillby to your seats. After a few moments a vendor walks by with programs. You’re interested, but when the cat monster tells you how much they cost, you remember that you don’t have any money with you. Grillby reaches into his pocket, pulling out some gold coins to purchase it for you.

“Oh no, that’s ok. It’s really expensive for a program,” you protest.

“Hey, little dingus,” growls the cat monster. “That’s pretty rude. Maybe you’d like the program better if I shoved it-” A wisp of purple fire drifts dangerously close to the cat monster’s nose, and he backs off quickly.

“Not so fast, Burgerpants.” Grillby’s voice is low and firm. “I’ll take two programs, and an apology for my date.” The fire elemental taps his finger impatiently on the table. The cat monster, who couldn’t possibly be named Burgerpants, drops two booklets on the table and mumbles an insincere apology before scurrying away.

The show starts, and it’s a very skilled string quartet occasionally accompanied by a piano virtuoso who makes the ivories sing. The music is so captivating that you wonder if the musicians are using magic to enhance it.Your don’t miss the satisfied smile on Grillby’s face as he watches wonder and delight fight to dominate your expression.

Your eyes are lit up like a million dazzling fireworks, and he can’t look away, so he rests his chin on his folded hands, elbows rudely propped up on the tabletop, and gazes at you until the concert is finished. When the lights come up again, he escorts you to the resort lobby, stopping in front of a large fountain with rainbows dancing in the spray.

“They say if you toss in a coin and make a wish, your wildest dreams can come true, but even my wildest dreams would pale in comparison to this evening I’ve spent with you,” Grillby whispers into your ear. You can’t believe how charming he is.

Grillby cups your cheek in one warm hand. The movement of his flames tickles your skin, but the temperature is perfect, comforting and comfortable. Grillby tilts your chin and lowers his mouth to yours.

Kissing Grillby is exactly how kissing fire should feel- hot, passionate, and wild. His flames and tongue lick against your lips, and you part them in response. Everything about the kiss consumes you, radiating heat from your head to your toes. The scorching heat doesn’t burn, but it ignites a slow pleasurable thrill inside you.

You gasp slightly as he pulls away. You want more, but when you step forward, he raises a hand to stop you. “Another time, treasure. You’re enamored by the magic of tonight, and I don’t want you to do something you’d regret. You’re worth waiting for, and I am a patient monster.”

Grillby takes your hand, entwining his fingers with yours. He chooses a different route back to Snowdin, walking through caves whose ceilings sparkle with mica chips like a million diamond stars reflecting the light of the fire elemental’s flames. Another cave holds glowing blue crystal formations that pulse in time with your heartbeat, slightly increased by Grillby’s proximity and your recent memories of a very sensual kiss.

You emerge from the cavern system onto a riverbank. You remember seeing the river when you left Snowdin earlier. You’re almost to Snowdin Town, but you don’t think you’re ready for the night to end just yet. The ambient light is low, and the forests around Snowdin appear magical in the false twilight. You suggest a jaunt through the blue-shadowed snow drifts and powder-laden trees, and Grillby laughs softly at your poetic descriptions as he leads you into the woods.

Hiking through the forest is slow work. Grillby lets go of your hand so that he can focus on melting the deeper snow ahead of you to prevent you from getting bogged down. Unfortunately, he’s so busy concentrating on helping you navigate your magical woodland adventure that he soon becomes lost.

“Damn,” the fire elemental hisses as a small deluge of snow knocked loose from a branch sizzles in his flames, “I must have gotten turned around. It’s going to take us longer to get to town than I thought. Are you warm enough?” The cold isn’t an issue for Grillby, but you’ve been trying to control your shivering for the last several minutes, hoping he wouldn’t notice.

“No,” you admit. Grillby removes his fur-collared jacket and wraps it around your shoulders. It’s much heavier than the jacket you’re currently wearing, and it’s still pleasantly warm from Grillby’s body heat. You snuggle down into the silk lining, feeling rejuvenated and ready to wade through more snow.

“There, much better.” Grillby surveys the surroundings and adjusts your direction. “At least it’s not-” Icy, white snowflakes blow into your face on a gust of wind “-a blizzard.” Grillby pinches the bridge of where a nose would be between his fingers. “Fuck.”

Grillby sets off with renewed urgency, but with two heavy coats on, you’re not fast enough to keep up. Grillby grabs your hand, blasting fire at the snow drifts ahead of you as he lifts you into his arms to carry you, but even he can’t outrun the storm. The blizzard sets in with ruthless ferocity and speed.

Grillby grimaces in pain, driving snow evaporating instantly wherever it touches him. You’re worried. The weather is actually harming him. “Go on ahead. I can wait here,” you urge him.

“You’ll freeze,” Grillby states flatly, and you know he’s right. The temperature has already dropped to dangerous levels, and even insulated by two jackets, you continue to tremble from the cold.

Grillby clears a space on the ground and pulls you onto his lap. He wraps his arms tightly around you and warms you with his magic. His flames pale as his magic forms a protective barrier between you and the cold. The heavy snowfall is taking a toll on him.

“What about you?” you ask in a worried whisper.

“I said I would protect you. I have been many things in my life, but a liar was never one of them, and I don’t intend to start now. Not with you, treasure.” He points to two distant hills, barely visible through the blizzard conditions. “If you head in that direction, you’ll reach Snowdin.”

You start to argue, but he shushes you. His flames are weakening, fizzling and spitting in defiance of the storm. How much longer can he keep this up? You try again.

“Grillby-”

“Shh, just let me hold you like this a little bit longer.” Grillby rests his chin on the top of your head. The sphere of warmth around you is shrinking down until it only remains in the places where Grillby is pressed against you. “I wish I’d had the opportunity to get to know you better, treasure.”

He plants a kiss on your forehead.

Everything disappears in a flash of blinding white light.

When your vision clears, an endless whiteness spreads out before you as far as the eye can see… broken by tall trees and rocky outcroppings.

You aren’t in the anti-Void...

… but you are completely alone.

[ Undertale Papby BONUS ][ Swapfell Papyrus BONUS ]

INDEX | Read on AO3

[keelywolfe]

FIC: The Rose and the Thorn: Chapter 6 (Mafia AU)

Summary: Let's head back into Rus's POV, he has a Plan. Surely this will go well.

Tags: Spicyhoney, Mafia AU, Flower Shop AU, Violence, First Meetings

Warnings: Some violence. A wee bit of unwanted touching and some innuendo.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

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Rus was careful not to wake his brother as he slipped out of the bed. If Blue caught him leaving, he’d have all kinds of questions about where Rus thought he was going and probably a good scolding about sneaking around being rude to their ‘hosts’.

Better to avoid all that and not get caught, though from Blue’s soft snoring, that probably wasn’t going to be too hard. The only light in the room was from Rus’s cell phone and even in the dimness, Blue looked exhausted. His brother pushed himself so hard, Rus thought with a pang, working in the gardens in the morning, then doing deliveries throughout the day, only to head home for dinner and housework at night. If there was one thing to be begrudgingly grateful for this strange, unexpected vacation, it was the faintest definition of a silver lining in that at least Blue would get some rest.

Maybe if Rus could make a de…if he could…if he spoke with Edge, he could be sure of his brother getting enough sleep for at least a little longer. Blue gave up so much for him, always, struggling to make a good life for them here on the Surface. If he had the chance to make things better, Rus needed to at least try.

But his quest was already having issues from his first barefooted step out of the bed. A hasty search of the room didn’t undercover his clothes and all Rus was wearing was a loose nightshirt. It was much too large, long enough that it nearly fell to his knees and the satiny material kept slipping off one shoulder or the other, resisting his attempts to yank it back up. He hardly remembered putting it on, flushed to recall his brother helping him dress as he hadn’t done since Rus was a babybones.

He vaguely recalled there were pants to go with the shirt. They were nowhere to be found and Rus had to stifle a nervous chuckle to think of Blue possibly wearing them. If they were long on Rus, Blue would be positively swimming in them to oceanic depths, the cuffs rolled until it looked as if he’d sewn pillows to the ankles.

Well, if there wasn’t anything else for him to wear, the nightshirt would have to do, he was certainly covered enough.

He half-expected the door to be locked but the knob twisted easily beneath his hand, letting in a stream of light from the hall as Rus hastily went out before it could wake his brother. He glanced down the hallway and found it empty of everything but the same wall sconces and artwork as before, along with the occasional door. Edge was behind one of them and probably so was Red, along with any number of other people, hm, this was a kink in his plan that Rus hadn’t considered.

Talking to Edge was the main course but he still needed to deal with the appetizer, which was finding him. He was probably still awake, it stood to reason that someone whose business was a strip club probably wasn’t asleep at this hour, and they hadn’t been specifically told they couldn’t leave the room, though it’d sort of been heavily implied.

Maybe he was in that office they’d been in before and Rus turned the other way, trying to remember the route they’d taken earlier, and nearly ran headfirst into the Dog who was silently standing guard on the opposite side of the door.

They only looked at him silently, their paws clasped in front of them, and as Rus stared back at them with wide sockets, they raised one furry brow questioningly.

Rus supposed telling them to sit and stay would be terrifically rude.

“um,” Rus swallowed hard, stammering out, “i…i was looking for edge. would you…maybe…know where he is?”

The Dog said nothing, still staring at Rus unblinkingly and Rus was about to abandon his plan and head back into their room –honestly what had he even been thinking— when the Dog tilted his head to the side, one hand rising to a floppy ear where a curly sort of wire was trailing out. Then he turning to walk down the hallway, pausing only to jerk his head for Rus to follow.

Well, now he had a guide, of sorts, that was good. Maybe.

This whole place was like some sort of maze and much as he tried to keep track of all the rights and lefts, Rus didn’t have his brother’s mind for puzzles. By the time they got to another door, Rus was thoroughly lost and couldn’t have gotten back to his brother without a damned map and a compass.

“is edge in here?” Rus asked. The Dog said nothing, only stood waiting expectantly for him to go in. Well, he’d asked for this, hadn’t he, and Rus took a deep breath, reaching out to turn the knob.

Peering in revealed a room that was nothing like Rus expected. More expensive furniture like the office earlier, but the lighting in this room was muted and soft, coming mostly from the electric fireplace in one corner. Guess there was a limit to what even money could buy, and a real fireplace buried into the depths of a building was one of them. In front of it was a bearskin rug that would have left Rus flinching if it weren’t so obviously a fake. Knowing a few Bears personally, he could barely abide such a horrible thing that even hinted about such an atrocity.

He looked away, taking in the plushly cushioned sofas with oversized pillows, the little cart holding what looked like a well-appointed miniature bar. In the corner was a grand piano and that was where Edge was sitting, his back to the door and one hand hanging off the end of the keyboard with a half-filled glass held loosely in his fingers.

Rus crept further into the room, his bare feet whispering against the rug. Very softly, he called, “edge?”

Edge didn’t look up. He didn’t seem at all surprised by the visit and he didn’t turn around, only said quietly, “You should be sleeping.”

That didn’t seem worthy of a reply, Edge hardly seemed the type to be playing the scolding parent and that was true even before Rus knew what he truly was. He gave his sleeve a nervous tug, the material slippery between his bony fingers. Rus hadn’t been able to see the color of his shirt in the darkness of the bedroom but here, he could see the heavy silk was a rich shade of red, deepened to the color of rubies in the dimness. The answer was obvious, but Rus asked the question anyway, “do i have you to thank for the pajamas?”

Edge gave him a faint smile, looking over his shoulder to let his gaze trail over Rus. His eye lights were nearly the same deep shade. “I’m afraid I didn’t have a chance to shop for anything more suitable.” He took a sip of his drink, sockets hooded as he studied Rus. “That color looks good on you.”

In his color, right, the same shade Edge always seemed to wear. Rus wasn’t sure what to say to that, either to the implication or the compliment. It wasn’t like any Monsters were beating down his door for a date before he’d gotten wrapped up in working at the store, but the way Edge was looked at him made him want to squirm and blush. Like he was something lovely, another pretty flower for their shop.

Well. He’d said that maybe he should own Rus or something like that, Rus was no philosopher to interpret everything Edge said to him in the car, but that was the point of all this, wasn’t it? His very soul felt like it was quivering as Rus took another step closer and the piano bench creaked as Edge shifted his weight, turning to face him fully.

“You should still be in bed,” Edge reminded him. The way his smoky voice curled around those syllables sent another shiver up Rus’s spine. This wouldn’t be so bad, Rus told himself, hadn’t he daydreamed something very much like this, once? Alone in a room with Edge, ready to sink into his embrace, and if his fantasies weren’t quite like this, at least it was something.

“so should you," Rus countered, "do you want me to leave?” If Edge hadn’t wanted to be disturbed, Rus very much doubted the Dog would have brought him here.

A deeper smile quirked one side of Edge’s mouth and Rus noticed suddenly that he always smiled on the side of his skull that wasn’t cracked. Maybe the pull of bone hurt if he smiled and Rus wondered why it hadn’t been properly healed, if it even could be.

“I couldn’t sleep after arguing with my brother,” Edge said, and maybe Rus didn’t know the specifics, but he had a pretty good idea what they’d squabbled about and it probably wasn’t the flower shop. Edge turned the glass in his hand as if studying the design, a stylized ‘F’ cut into the crystal. “My brother doesn’t believe in mixing business with pleasure. It’s gotten him into trouble before.”

Rus considered that, recalling his less than pleasant first chat with Red in the backseat of that car. “am i more business or pleasure?”

“That remains to be seen.” Edge shifted on the bench, setting his drink on the piano lid as he moving to one end. “Come on, sit.”

It was more offer than order and Rus did, sitting where Edge patted next to him, tucking his nightshirt primly around his knees. He looked at the piano curiously; he’d never been this close to a real one, only ever toyed with a shoddily repaired electronic one from the dump as a child. Lightly, he touched the cool keys without pressing them. “do you play?”

It seemed appropriate to ask. He knew next to nothing about Edge other than the few rather terrifying revelations of the day. They’d barely spoken before, well, everything; aside from Rus’s one attempt to ask him to dinner, there was only the meaninglessly polite retail conversation that Rus had with nearly everyone, and then once all this mess started there was nothing but their tangled meetings after. Conversation hadn’t been primary in any of it.

“Not really,” Edge admitted, “an old friend of mine did.” He’d taken his gloves off, Rus saw, his phalanges showing old fractures and pits, an ugly contrast to how the crack in his skull only seemed to enhance his startlingly handsome face. Edge ran those scarred fingers down the keys, a dissonant chord coupled with bone clicking against ivories. “I suppose I bought this out of nostalgia.”

To think of having the money to buy a piano out of sentiment, when Rus once spent a week eating nothing but ramen noodles with butter sandwiches. Maybe better not to think of that and Rus pressed a key too hard, suddenly loud in the quiet. “all i can play is chopsticks.”

Edge made a sound like a muted chuckle, lightly tapped out the notes, the simple melody echoing through the room. When Rus reached up to do the same, his oversized sleeve slipped down to reveal the bruises still circling his wrist, irregular blotches of darkness. Edge noticed as well, his smile slipping away, and Rus hastily tugged his sleeve back up to hide them.

Well, he was quite the seducer, wasn’t he, showing off bruises and stilted conversation, and worse. His timing was awful as his seduction and yet Rus couldn’t help asking, “who was that, this afternoon? the fire monster, i mean.”

Edge picked up his glass again, swirling the drink in his hand. He watched the deep brown vortex with shadowed eye lights, “Another old friend.”

The more they talked, the more Rus thought that he and Edge had very different opinions on the definition of friend. “he didn’t seem very friendly.”

“No. He wouldn’t be,” Edge lifted the glass, swallowed down the entire contents in one gulp and set it back down with a rude clatter, “My brother betrayed him,” Simple and matter of fact. “That’s the truth.”

Except even Rus knew that wasn’t all, couldn’t possibly be that blunt of an instrument, “that’s not all the truth.”

“No, it isn’t,” Edge admitted. He’d taken off his jacket at some point and even without it, his shoulders were impressively broad as he hunched them in a noncommittal shrug, “It was a bad situation. My brother had a choice to make, either me or his lover and he chose me. Blaze lived but he was understandably upset at my brother’s choice.”

Understandably upset with Red, yeah, Rus suspected there were plenty of others who suffered from the same affliction. “what does that have to do with me?”

“Not a thing,” Edge said. He closed his sockets, his fingers tripping tunelessly over the piano keys. “It doesn’t really have anything to do with either of us. It’s about my brother, really. Blaze has developed something of a compulsion to make sure both of us die with each other as our only company. I suppose he thinks that if I was my brother’s choice, then he needs to stick with it.”

“that doesn’t make sense, you were only buying flowers in my shop. we weren’t,” Rus flapped an impatient hand, searching for words, “company or a relationship or any of those things. so, what, he decided to punish me for the terrible sin of being a clerk?”

That lopsided grin was somehow harder now, bitter, “If you’re asking me to clarify his motives, you’re in for a sad disappointment.”

Rus sighed. That, at least, was honest enough. “i don’t know if i can judge the situation without knowing exactly what happened, but it doesn’t sound like it was entirely your brother’s fault. how can anyone make that choice?” He couldn’t even imagine trying to choose anyone over his own brother.

Edge only shrugged again. “Fault doesn’t come into it. Eventually one of them will kill the other and that’ll be the end of it.”

“will it?” Rus asked doubtfully. Edge sounded terribly nonchalant about it and Rus could only wonder how much truth was in it. One of them would kill the other, yeah, sure, with plenty of collateral damage in between, people like Edge. Or Rus.

He shivered, chilled suddenly not to the bone, but to his soul.

Edge noticed and frowned. "Are you cold?"

That sounded like an opening if he’d ever heard one. He’d gotten far off the path of his original intentions and that seemed like a shortcut back. His nightshirt was already slithering its stubborn way down again and it hardly took a twitch to send it sliding off one shoulder, leaving Rus bared to the collarbone. His voice was hardly the marvel of Edge’s, but he was rather proud of the throaty way he managed to say, "if i say yes, will you keep me warm?"

Surprise flared in those crimson eye lights, tempered with a surge of heat, and Rus didn’t struggle as Edge slid an arm around him, tugging Rus into his lap to hold him in a loose embrace. His breath was warm against the side of Rus’s skull as he leaned in and murmured, “Why are you here, flower shop?”

“because you sort of completed a kidnapping trifecta and brought me here?”

That got him the white slash of a sharp grin, “True.” Then, more insistently, “But why are you here instead of sleeping?”

“i…” Rus swallowed hard. It was one thing to plan all this, to decide to go with a seduction in order to beg favors, another entirely to admit it into the air between them. There was nothing deliberate about his hoarseness as Rus admitted, “i’m not sure.”

A scarred finger slipped under his chin, tilting up his head and Rus looked into Edge’s eye lights, watched as they studied his face intently.

“Let me help you decide.” A soft, sweet kiss brushed his mouth, gently enticing, and when Rus moaned shakily, parting his teeth, Edge deepened it. He smelled strongly of the alcohol he’d been drinking, tasted of it, the flavor shared potent and smoky on Rus’s tongue.

He’d been in Edge’s arms a few times now but never while in a position to appreciate it. The only danger now was in the embrace itself; Edge was so much larger that Rus was engulfed, pressed to a broad rib cage while strong arms held him close.

Rus was taller than most Humans and Edge still towered over him. It wasn’t simply his size, his presence was huge, intimidating, Edge’s hands were nearly large enough to circle his rib cage, powerful enough to move him without a hint of strain as he shifted Rus until he was straddling his lap, femurs spread wide on either side of his hips. He was already hard, Rus could feel it through his trousers and he was no virgin but his few times playing around with Muffet hadn’t prepare him for this.

He wasn’t braced for the kiss to change, not the faint, wistful touch of mouths that started this, but suddenly almost rough, a charged scrape of teeth and tongue laying claim to him.

Rus barely stifled a yelp as Edge abruptly picked him up, the legs of the bench scraping the floor as it was shoved back. Both strong arms braced under Rus’s pelvis as Edge carried him towards the fireplace. He lowered Rus to the rug in front of it before joining him, nudging his legs apart to settle on top of him and roughly claimed his mouth again. The fake fur was ticklish against his bare bones, rubbing rawly against his femurs where the nightshirt rode up, pushed even further by Edge’s hand sliding along the long, smooth bone to cup his bared hip, his thumb skirting along the curve of his pelvis.

His weight pushed Rus into the rug, the breadth of his body spreading Rus’s legs almost uncomfortably wide, and he struggled not to wince from either the force of those kisses, hungry and eager, and the nudging hardness pressing insistently against his pelvis as if already seeking entrance.

In a distant part of his mind, Rus supposed wildly that it should be almost romantic, shouldn’t it. Making love in front of a blazing fireplace was the pinnacle of those novels Blue kept hidden under his bed, the ones Rus snuck away to read during the slow hours at the shop. Nothing was better than two lovers sprawled together like this, their passion as fiery as the flames.

Except none of this was real, not anymore than those novels were. Not the fire, not the fur underneath him, not the supposed romance of it. This whole place was a shiny veneer layered over filth, false elegance plunked atop the strip club that supported it.

Edge wanted his body and Rus would let him have it, and much as he tried to pretend it was something else, he couldn’t. He could only cling to Edge’s broad shoulders and try to meet that fierce kiss with his own, ignoring the smoldering regret inside him, a hotter burn than any fireplace.

Except, he hadn’t expected Edge to stop. Didn’t know what to make of him drawing away, couldn’t think of what the frown creasing his scarred face meant. His bare fingers trembled as they reached out and Rus tried not to flinch as the sharpened tips wiped gently along his still faintly bruised cheekbone. He stared uncomprehendingly as they came away damp, glimmering wetness against Edge’s fingertips.

Oh. He was crying. That didn't matter, he told himself, he was trying to make a deal here, but Edge resisted his attempts to pull him back down. He crawled backwards, moving off Rus to kneel on the floor at his feet. With two fingers he reached out to gingerly tug Rus’s nightshirt back down, covering him without so much as grazing any exposed bone.

“wait, don’t,” Rus tried to reach out, to tug him back into his arms. Only Edge flinched from him, incongruous and wrong, he scrambled away as if he were the one afraid.

“Go back to your room,” Edge said curtly.

“but—”

“Go.” And this time it was an order, sharply said.

“i can’t let my brother lose everything we’ve worked for!” He didn’t mean to say the words so bluntly, saw the flicker in Edge’s eye lights, his expression hardening. He turned away, giving Rus his back as he walked over to the cart with its whiskey bottles and glasses.

There was a glug of liquid pouring and Edge tossed back the shot, pouring another before he spoke again, harshly.

“I have plenty of whores around me, I hardly need another.” Said like that made Rus flinch, curling into himself in desperate shame. That wasn’t…it wasn’t like that, was it? Except it seemed it was, he’d been trying to barter with his body, what else could it be called? Edge went on, his voice cold, “You don’t need to sell yourself, my brother keeps his promises.”

“please. i didn’t mean to—” The tears were coming harder now, defying his attempts to stifle them and Rus choked on a sob, thick and sour in his throat.

Almost, Edge turned towards him, his face cast in flickering shadows as he closed his sockets, exhaling long and slow. “As much as I appreciate your tendency to argue, this is not the time.” His teeth clenched in a brief grimace then he snapped out, “Get out of here! Go!”

Rus scrambled to his feet and fled. He’d barely closed the door behind him when he heard a loud thunk followed by glass shattering on the other side. He watched dumbly as dark liquid seeped from beneath the door, filling the air with the strong scent of whiskey.

Well, that…that hadn’t gone anything like he’d hoped.

He turned to see the Dog was still there, his expression unreadable, and when he started walking, Rus numbly followed along. Back through the twists and turns to his room and Rus went back inside without a single word, slipped back into the bed between sheets cooled by his absence.

“Brother?” Blue shifted next to him, yawning out sleepily, “Where did you go?”

“nowhere.” Blue made a curious sound, but he wasn’t truly awake, only sinking back into his quiet snoring.

Rus curled around his pillow, too-soft and squashing beneath his grip, and stared into the darkness. His mouth ached a bit and Rus reached up, pressing his fingers to that ache, torn between remembering those rough kisses and trying to never think of them again.

He didn’t sleep for a long time.

tbc

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