#bones and skeletons are beautiful I can’t help it

[reliquaryofflesh]

My horny ass could not be trusted around an anatomical model of a human skeleton 😭

[mywritersmind]

LITTLE BLACK DRESS - LN4

halloween special

summary : loosely based on little black dress by 1D😊 happy halloween my horny bffs

listen up : kissing, yelling… him being horny. lando x fewtrell!reader

word count : 1655

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She's always been beautiful. She’s the sort of pretty that when she walks into the room, everyone’s head turns toward her.

Today though… shit. She looks straight up sexy.

Max punches me in the arm, realizing I'm not paying attention to whatever he’s saying. But I can’t stop looking at her, long legs and a tiny black dress is all I can see.

As she gets closer, her hair bouncing with every step, I realize that it’s the type of hunger that will only be satisfied by my lips on hers.

There is one slight issue, though. “Sis!” Max grins, messing up her hair as she pushes him away, “Nice costume. You get it half off?”

⋆༺

you

“You're so turning into our dad!” I roll my eyes at Max as he laughs and whips his arm around me, pulling me into a forgiving half hug. He's the mad hatter, cute since I saw Pierta in her Alice costume a few minutes ago.

I scrunch my face up before looking up at Lando. God… Lando. His eyes are practically setting me on fire, looking up and down my body. He's a skeleton.

Looking ridiculous hot in all black, his costume is made by the makeup on his face. An illusion of bones with black and white.

“Hi, Lando. Happy Halloween” I say sweetly as he brings his cup to his painted lips.

“Lookin good, Y/n.” He gives me a slight smirk and I can feel Max’s annoyance before he starts complaining.

“Lando. No!” Max says as if he’s some sort of dog.

“I didn’t do anything!” He puts his hands up in defense before looking at me, “Want a drink?” I flash him a smile, fangs and all. He raises a brow at my favorite bit of my costume.

A vampire is not basic, It’s classic!

“She wants nothing from your grubby hands!” Max says immediately, his mad hatter hat tilting on his curls.

“Grubby!?” Lando scoffs as I laugh, but I see my friend in the crowd and squeal, leaving them both.

⋆༺

lando

How weird would it be if I said I want her to bite me? Fuck, it sounds weird doesn’t it? I don’t care. She’s been dancing with P for the past thirty minutes, downing at least two drinks and moving her ass in a way that should be illegal.

There’s fake blood on her chest and mouth. A mouth I'm desperate to kiss.

I’ve known her forever, and I would never admit it to Max… but I've always had a bit of a thing for her. How do you tell your protective best friend that you’re hot for his younger sister?

The answer is that you don’t.

But this feels different. We’re older, we’re both hotter, and I swear I saw her checking me out.

Max has disappeared and there’s a girl by my side in an instant. I take one look at her, get disappointed that she’s not Y/n, and leave.

I spot her at the bar.

I tug on her hair and she lets out a little scream before she turns and sees me. Her mouth contorts into a mischievous smirk, her nose scrunching. “Two vodka shots.” I nod at the bartender, standing close to her. “I like your costume.”

She looks bored, “Think I look hot?” When she turns to get my reaction I just tilt my head a bit, biting back a smile. She knows I do.

“Well I think yours is a bit underwhelming.” She sighs as I scoff.

“Hey- P spent an hour on this!” she giggles, “What would you rather me be?”

She thinks for a moment as the bartender slides us the shots, “Hmm… a driver?” Her body shifts towards me, holding up the vodka and smiling innocently.

“Very funny.” I take my own shot, tapping the table and downing it without breaking eye contact.

“You here alone?”

She leans against the bar, “Nope… my friends are here somewhere.” She breaks eye contact, surveying the packed crowd.

I lean in closer, “I mean did you come here with a guy?”

She narrows her eyes at me, “No.”

I can’t help but smile, teasing her is my favorite activity. “You open to leaving with one?”

She blinks, biting her bottom lip, “Lando…” I know i’m playing with fire but I don’t care.

“What?” I say innocently, “For safety reasons.”

She lets out a little laugh, “I’m not fucking you in the name of safety.” I frown.

“You’re losing your little flirty spark, Fewtrell.” I lean closer, my arm resting on the bar, “You grow up, finally?”

“I grew up.” She nods, “But I'll never lose my spark.” She looks offended, my eyes flick down to her body… her chest… her lips.

“Prove it.” Her hand goes to her hip.

“You gonna flirt with me all night or actually make a move?” Spark is still there. 1000% still there because the way she’s leaning into me makes me hard.

I glance at the people drinking and dancing, seeing Max instantly in his hideous hat. He's not looking at us, but I know he’s gotten a vibe tonight when I was staring at Y/n’s ass.

“You really want me to make a move in front of your brother?” I ask her and I can tell she’s torn.

Y/n has always been close to Max, but she was always known to be troublesome. I liked her more for it. She would sneak guys in when their parents were away and Max would always call me, purposefully being loud about how much he could bench to scare the guy away.

“Let’s dance.” My hand slips to her waist, tugging her closer. She gives me another suspicious look, “Come on… I wanna see the way you move for me.”

She rolls her eyes, “Take you and your one liners somewhere else.” She starts walking away, but I follow.

“Don’t act like you don’t love it.” I take her hand finally, tugging her into the crowd and pulling her close to me.

“Don’t act like you don’t get off on it.” I bite the inside of my cheek as her hand moves to my neck and into my hair.

“You’re so fucking hot.” I should probably think twice about telling this to my best friend's sister, but why lie?

She throws her head back, laughing. She shakes her head and keeps dancing. The neon lights swirl around us as people push and scream over the music. I can practically feel the djs mix in my body.

Y/n’s hand goes to the back of my head again, standing on her toes to yell in my ear. “I don’t want to smudge your makeup.” I think I'm about to faint.

I shake my head, making her look at me in the eye to make sure she’s serious. She’s staring up at me, a brow quirked as if she’s daring me.

My lips are on hers embarrassingly fast.

Gripping her waist, I slip my tongue in her mouth. The fake fangs scrape against me but I'm too focused on her so close to me to care.

⋆༺

you

I've spent an unhealthy amount of time wondering what it would be like to kiss Lando. Now I know that my younger self was completely wrong.

He’s possessive and rough, holding me close and sliding his hand up my body, to my neck. He tastes like makeup and alcohol, my hands holding his neck and tugging at his shirt.

It’s too loud for him to hear me say his name. He bites my lip and I let out an involuntary whine. He's smirking against me when I tug his shirt, pulling back.

I smile at him, catching my breath for a second just to make sure this is real. “I love this song.” It's ‘little black dress’ by one direction. The song that I played every day of my teenage years whenever Max and Lando were bugging me.

I laugh, leaning back as he rests his head on my shoulder, pressing a kiss to my skin. I turn his head to face me again, kissing him softly. “Maybe I'd be okay with going home to a guy.” I say in his ear.

“You better be talking about me.” His face is serious but I can’t help but laugh, slapping his arm before kissing him again.

“Of course it’s you, muppet.” I’m kissing him again. I get lost in a haze of smoke and music, melting into him as he breathes against me.

He’s kissing my neck now, moving his hand down past my back. Then he’s gone.

He’s off me in a second, “What. The. Fuck!?” It’s Max. “No! No! No!” He looks like he’s about to kill Lando.

“Hey…” I think Max it’s going to be okay until a smirk breaks out on Lando’s stupid face. “What if I told you I'm really drunk?”

Max’s fists clench, “Lando-” He turns to me, looking pissed off, “I can’t even with you!”

I push my hair back, shrugging and wiping my mouth. I look at Lando who’s about to laugh, his mouth is smudged with blood, black paint, lipstick.

“My sister!?” He yells, getting the attention of few around us.

“I- Okay look! I didn’t. I mean! Yeah… She’s hot!” he goes through options, clearing giving up as he looks at me. Max loses it then, “Yup!” Lando turns and fucking bolts.

Max is screaming and i’m laughing, it’s almost too comedic. The crowd basically parts as Lando hurries past, my brother chasing after his best friend.

When they’re about to be out of view, Lando turns, “Yo, Vamp!” He calls out, running backwards with a scared and mischievous expression on his face. He brings a hand to his head, mimicking a phone before breaking out into a grin, “Call me!”

[comfortless]

what if König does see his knight being more ladylike? or maybe even in a dress? sorry they’re just so cute i love this au lol

you are never getting her into a gown… not ever.

except at a special event (:..?

There’s a summons for König and the lady knight to attend a ball. At the castle, no less. The sheet of parchment dents weighty in her hand as she tugs it free from the message board at the center of town— a list of names, hers and König’s included; quite high, too, above even dukes and duchesses from foreign kingdoms and a wonderful knight who had braved an attempted siege and won the King victory.

It makes no sense… they’re essentially hired thieves, roaming through caverns of filth filled with the dead, stealing what’s never been their own and never will belong to them for profit. There’s no honor in their work, despite the way she puffs her chest in pride and so often declares that one of these expeditions will earn her a seat at the royal table.

Still… they had retrieved that object for the Queen, and it seemed the materialistic royalty deemed that well and good enough to consider them worthy.

König is unperturbed— he’s never been one for these formal affairs, dressing up in a tight fitting suit of ruffled fabric, chest adorned with a shimmering brooch and his blade kept tucked away far out of reach. His knight on the other hand… Her face is practically glowing, he’s never seen her smile so wide or so sweetly.

Of course… she doesn’t have some silky gown to her name, only cold steel and endless straps… not even a proper corset. König can’t help but notice her pout when they begin to prepare. Though he thinks she’s pretty, perfect even as battle-worn she is, it’s clear she wants to be more so as she stares longingly out of the window of the inn at all of the beautiful ladies riding on horseback to approach the castle gates, their gowns each as intricate and immaculate as the braids and curls and lengths of their hair.

He doesn’t get it- he’ll just go in his normal clothes, but like any proper suitor would do… he buys her a gown from the tailor a few buildings past the inn. The most expensive one he can get his paws on with the hoard of gold they collected from their last adventure. (Who knew slaying a few reanimated skeletons to give a cursed femur and jaw bone to an old witch could count as a job?!)

The dress is certainly… tailored to his preferences: it’s a lacy thing, dyed a shimmering bluish gray, creamy lace trims along the cuffs and hems, the collar dipping down into a ‘v’ to properly frame her tits. He didn’t expect it to be any lovelier than what his imagination supplies when she does put it on, and yet he finds himself utterly stifled by the sight.

He’s seen her nude, pawed at and groped her hundreds of times, but as she stands before him shyly lifting the dress at her hips and glancing at the wall, the floor, anywhere except from directly at him… his pulse begins to race. Of course, he picks her up and buries his face against her neck, whispering about how pretty she is, how much he adores every new side of her, and promptly ruins it by detailing how he would like to tug her laces loose with his teeth later in the evening after the dancing is all over. She shoves him away, hissing like a startled kitten but he’s certain she casts him a little smirk the moment that he does relax his grip.

The ball is no less extravagant than she had expected. Food and luxury wine adorn every table: cheeses, fresh baked bread, smoked meats and pies, fruit of many kinds, and the wine all sweet and bitter and so very unlike the thick mead that burns as it goes down that they’re accustomed to. The dresses, the elaborate dances, the beautiful sounds of music feathering through the air- all of it. She even gets to drink from a goblet made of silver, and her eyes light up when a servant fills it to the brim.

König despises it all.

He tucks himself away, flooding himself with food and the few gilded pitchers of actual ale he’s managed to threaten a servant into retrieving. He notices the eyes on her always, as she dances with the other ladies and smiles adoringly over at him each time their eyes meet. Her grace translates well here from battle, each step taken with some extracted precision that she’s learned from flailing her blade around in the darkness… her partners giggle against her ear as they curl their arms around her, many adrift to either side waiting for a turn.

It’s only when a man does approach his lady knight that König’s had enough. She’s tipsy and far too cute, stands out like pure treasure amongst this adoring flock, and the bastard’s eyes are on her breasts when he asks her to dance. The other man is yanked back by his scruff and tossed to the marble floor, eliciting startled gasps and even… some sweet sighs from the women surrounding as they fawn over how romantic it must be that a brute like him wouldn’t allow another man near her.

His knight only smiles at him when he leads her away, out of the grand hall and down the corridors of the castle until they find themselves before a window that seems to overlook the entire kingdom. The music still plays, the voices still chatter, but they’re all muffled and subdued someplace far away… and König only feels the world seem to come to a grinding halt when she asks him to dance with her here.

He doesn’t have the same tact or skill as the others when he moves: swaying her in a grip like iron ‘round her waist, dipping with her when her back arcs that almost leaves his face flush with her chest. It’s clumsy at best, far less flowery and sweet than when she danced with the other women, but he tries his best to not entirely ruin her night— unaware that she’s far too drunken and giddy to care. She wouldn’t have batted an eye if he had snapped that man’s neck, if only he rewarded her patience with a dance like this.

They meld together, a perfect fit when she stands on his boots and drapes her arms around his neck to press her chin to his chest. The frolic comes to a quiet end as they whisper back and forth about what happens next, after tonight. When the sun rises and they’re back on their feet… He swears to her that they’ll buy a horse, subtly hints that the offer to settle will always be present and she only shushes him with a kiss, one that she laughs into as she tastes the ale on his tongue.

Those strings are, in fact, loosened by his teeth as she lies on their shared bed with him later into the evening. He traces every dip and curve of her body through the silk as he works away at relieving her of the gown, then the corset with slow, precise movements and tugs. She laughs again when he hisses praises from behind her, licks and nibbles a hot path along her skin, rests his head against the smooth flesh of her back when the corset finally lays to either side of her.

His fingertips graze from the back of her neck, to her shoulder, further along the middle of her back before he stops himself. Despite the near constant ache, this isn’t how or where he wants this done: in some rundown inn outside of the castle, her veins flooded with red wine. Instead, he only pulls her close in a cuddle, massages at her tits as she thanks him for accompanying her, for dancing with her despite his gait being more like a newborn foal than a proper stallion.

And when the moon finally reaches a peak in the night sky, her breathing slow and soft while she rests her head against his chest, he kisses the top of her head and pulls her in closer. Tells her that he likes either side of her, knight or lady it mattered not, so long as she remains at his side like this.

She nods to her own damnation, contentedly swearing her oath to him with one word, “Forever.” It comes in a soft murmur, eyelids already fluttering as he squishes her closer against him.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hey! Saw that your requests are open :]

Could you write a scenario where Gwen, miles n pav are looking for Hobie in his universe for whatever reason, just for them to find him and his s/o taking a nap together on a rooftop together 🥺?

I just kinda wanna see hobie/y/n in the perspective of other characters <3

Thanks in advance ❤️❤️❤️!!!

‘Hobie’s not picking up.’ Pavitr said.

‘Neither is y/n.’ Gwen replied, pocketing her phone after the third failed phone call.

‘Hobie’s phone is probably dead, he let’s that thing drain to it’s last percentage and y/n is probably busy on a mission.’ Miles tried to justify as he, Pav and Gwen walked through the streets of Hobie’s dimension in search of their friend to hang out but the longer the trio went without seeing Hobie -or you for that matter- in places they believed he’d be; the last place being the pub he frequents where Hobie’s band mates informed them that they haven’t seen him in a while, the more worried they’d become for his well being despite not needing too, but still he’s their friend and friends worry about one another; no matter how capable they are.

‘Have you tried his place?’ One of his mates tells them, ‘can’t hurt if you haven’t.’ They added, raising the pint glass to their lips as they downed the rest of their drink in a couple of gulps. ‘We have, he wasn’t there.’ Miles said and they put their glass back down on the table, wiping their mouth with the back of their hand, shrugging their shoulders. ‘You know how Hobie is with his dislike for consistency and all that. But if I were to guess where he is -if he’s even there at all by the time you lot get there- it’ll probably be up on the rooftop of that half arsed complex they’ve left to rot.’

‘Where would we-‘ ‘I think I know where that is,’ Gwen cuts in, remembering her time spent here and the places she’s been due to Hobie helping her get her bearings of the place, one in particular having stuck out more so then the others. ‘Thanks for the help.’ She tells them right before looking to Pavitr and Miles, jutting her head towards the exit of the pub. ‘Come on, if I’m right, he shouldn’t be too far from here.’ She tells them as she, Pav and Miles left the pub and began making leeway to their next destination.

‘They’ve been here the whole time!’ Miles exclaimed upon seeing you and Hobie fast asleep with you practically cuddled into Hobie’s side, your face buried within the crook of his neck as your hands clung to his waist while one of Hobie’s hands were at your waist, keeping you anchored to his side as his other hand was holding onto your forearm that rested comfortably across his hip bone; Both of you looked at peace within the others presence, it was a sweet sight to behold for the trio that it made the goose chase all the more worth it’s frustrations.

‘You’ll wake them!’ Pavitr shushed Miles but he couldn’t care less when he saw what was in his friend’s hand, his brows immediately raising. ‘Pav, are you taking pictures of them asleep?’ Gwen piped up, also having caught on.

‘You expect me not to? Look at them!’ Pavitr was the one to exclaim this time as he gestures to yours and Hobie’s still slumbering intertwined figures. ‘They’re love incarnate, the beautiful vulnerability brought forth by their comfortability with one another,’ he sighs longingly as he snaps another picture of you two, ‘to have a relationship where your soul feels at ease with that person, to have all your walls come down when you’re with them to the point you are able to hear the song of their heart, soothing you into a slumber filled naught with dreams but memories.’

‘So kinda like the male and female skeletons that were found romantically embracing one another.’ Miles said. ‘I guess I can see the comparison.’ Gwen piped in as she looked closely at you and Hobie, her eyes immediately noting some movement in Hobie’s hand as it subconsciously intertwined itself with yours and giving it a squeeze, almost like he was making sure you were still with him. So it made Gwen smile when she saw you reciprocate the squeeze with one of your own; It was so obvious that the relationship you and Hobie had was one of love, respect, loyalty and above all else trust.

It’s a relationship anyone would die to have but it takes a special person to have that type of relationship and Gwen couldn’t be happier that you and Hobie found each other. You two were the missing pieces that you’ve been searching for so long, Gwen couldn’t imagine the imminent relief you must’ve felt whenever you and Hobie held hands knowing that you were finally where you were meant to be, to be able to see clearly, to be able to breath; Gwen might not be a hopeless romantic like Pavitr is but she couldn’t help but want a relationship like yours and Hobie’s one day because that’s the day when she knows she’s found her person.

Miles took note of how Gwen looked longingly at you and Hobie and wondered if she thought the same as he did, to have what you and Hobie had, to find his person whom he can spend every waking moment with and still feel how he felt when first meeting them; in adoration and awe, to have someone whom he can be unapologetically himself and hope that they feel the same with him, to be able to fall sleep on a rooftop somewhere without fearing all the possibilities that could happen in your moment of vulnerability.

Miles deeply wished to have the kind of love his parents have, the kind that you and Hobie have for it was, in Pavitr’s words, a love that transcends the need for words, for words weren’t enough to convey how you felt compared to the intimate act of soul searching within each others eyes.

‘We should leave them be for now.’ Gwen said softly to Pavitr and Miles whom had no qualms in agreeing to leaving you and Hobie alone, though not without admiring both of you one last time, just as you nuzzled yourself deeper into Hobie’s neck and Hobie’s little smile before they all headed back to hq.

[quietblueriver]

They’re in my head again (always) so here’s some more Southern Gothic fluff. Once again very minor spoilers for last night’s ep but mostly just them being perfectly, disgustingly in love.

-

The bones on Laudna’s garland knock together overhead as Imogen ducks under her arm, laughing and stepping close again, squeezing Laudna’s fingers (gently, always gently) before standing on her toes to reciprocate the spin.

Laudna has to bend a little awkwardly to compensate for the height difference, a familiar crack of joints just audible over the music as she turns. She’s laughing when she comes back, smile haunting and bright, and Imogen pulls her close enough to press a kiss to her cheek before twirling her out again.

It’s not long before the deck fills, the rattle of bones a charming if entirely off-beat accompaniment to the music, and a few minutes later, Imogen feels the tap of a skeletal finger on her shoulder. She turns, keeping one hand on Laudna’s waist, to find one of the crewmen shifting from one bony foot to the other.

“Beggin’ your pardon, ma’am.” And Imogen knows that bones can’t blush, but she can almost see it anyway, nerves working themselves out through shifting hip bones and twitching phalanges, a clenching mandible. “Would you mind if I cut in?”

Flaming blue eyes dart to Laudna and Imogen smiles, feeling fond and strangely kin to the skeleton, grateful to be surrounded by souls who see Laudna a little more like she does, who can appreciate the particular beauty of a wilting flower that refuses to give up its spot in the sun.

She raises a brow at her girlfriend, who nods, rubbing a thumb over Imogen’s wrist at her waist.

“Not at all.” She presses another kiss to Laudna’s cheek, a little too close to her mouth to be friendly, and Laudna shakes her head fondly even as she blushes.

No need to worry, darling. I only have eyes for you.

Imogen winks, only the smallest bit embarrassed to have been called out. Can’t blame a girl for tryin’ to make things clear. She tucks a strand of Laudna’s hair behind her ear before stepping back and gesturing to the skeleton waiting patiently beside them.

“Y’all have fun.”

The skeleton dips his skull and moves closer to Laudna. Rather beautifully tattooed waves circle down his radii and ulna, which move hesitantly toward her hand and waist, and Imogen thinks that maybe Kyle isn’t the only sensitive soul on the Crimson Abyss. She hears an enthusiastic, “Hello, there! I’m Laudna,” and smiles as she steps out of the crowd for some quiet.

-

Laudna finds her leaned against the railing, staring into the fog. She braces her forearms next to Imogen’s, pressing their hips together as she says, “Platinum for your thoughts?”

At Imogen’s raised brow she grins and waves a hand, “They’re clearly worth more than a copper, darling, although we might have to come up with some sort of payment plan if you intend to collect. We could resurrect some of the old shows with Pâté and Sashimi, maybe? Or, I have a few craft project ideas…”

Imogen gives a cursory glance to the crowd near them and then puts a hand on Laudna’s jaw and turns her, leaning up for a kiss.

“You can have ‘em for free, darlin’.” Laudna leans down and kisses her again, lips cool and, thrillingly, a little bit familiar now. “You can have whatever you want from me.”

She means it as a tease, even if she’s absolutely serious, but Laudna’s face changes, brow furrowing as she traces her nails up Imogen’s cheek, brings her fingers down to rest against her nape.

“Yes,” she says, quieter. “About that.”

And Imogen knows, braces, waits. Laudna’s eyes, dark and appraising, meet hers. “Your soul is too precious to risk.” It’s definitive, the usual joyful rhythm of her words traded for a series of hard stops.

“So is yours.”

Laudna blinks. And Imogen understands that even now, even after…after, Laudna can’t quite believe what she means to them, what she means to Imogen, but if this is what helps her to understand, then Imogen is more than willing to give it.

“I…”

She waits patiently, but when Laudna seems unable to find her words, looking down at the railing of the ship and biting her lip, Imogen says, “I know she’s in there with you, and you know I support you doin’…whatever it is you want to do about that. It’s your mind and your body and your soul, Laud. I would never, ever try to take any choice away from you.”

She risks tilting Laudna’s chin up with her pointer finger, a gentle pressure that leads Laudna’s eyes back to hers.

“But I need you to understand how important you are to me. To us. I had to live without you once, and…” She clears her throat as a cry comes from the crowd behind them, the music changing and Chetney yelling something she can’t quite make out. Laudna presses closer to her.

“Imogen.”

She shakes her head and takes a deep breath. “I don’t intend on doin’ that again, unless you ask me to.” Laudna shakes her head vehemently, nearly dislodging her rock chisel, and Imogen smiles at her. “But even more than that, it’s…you bring so much good to the world, Laudna. You. As you.” She gestures at the garland and tilts her head back to the crowd. “You bring so much joy.”

“That’s kind of you, darling,” she murmurs, ducking her head again, “but joy isn’t power. I don’t have much of that, without her, but you…you do, Imogen. You’re important. Too important to risk.”

She doesn’t sigh, not out loud, but inside she wants to scream. She wants to give Laudna her soul, to dive into her and destroy the bitch who has spent so long torturing the best person Imogen has ever known.

“There is nothing too important to me to risk for you.” A disgruntled noise, but Imogen pushes on, determined. “Think of what you’d give me for me, Laud.” There’s a tiny drop of ichor at the corner of her eye when she looks up, and Imogen catches it with her thumb as it falls. “You have to know I’d give the same for you. You don’t have to understand why, but…you believe me, right?”

Laudna bites her lip again, and ichor wells there too, the skin split with the force of her incisor. It’ll heal, Imogen knows, but she has to stop herself from tutting, settles for freeing the lip with the same thumb already stained black. Laudna watches as Imogen sucks reflexively on her thumb before bringing it back to Laudna’s cheek.

“Laudna?”

Finally, she nods. “I believe you. Of course, I believe you.”

Imogen nods back at her, says softly, “Good. Then you know, when I said you could suck out some of my soul, I wasn’t offerin’ anythin’ that ain’t already yours.”

Laudna sucks in a breath and Imogen kisses her and kisses her until another cry rises from the crowd and they break apart, breathing slightly heavier.

It’s a lot, all of it. Too much, always too much, to have to carry, even if it is easier between them. But as the music strikes up again, another new tune, Imogen wants to take advantage of the chance to do something a little bit normal and dance with her girlfriend. And if it’s in the most abnormal of circumstances—on a ghost pirate ship with music blasting from their sentient robit friend while bone garland swings from above—then that’s okay. That’s perfectly them.

“And anyway, didn’t you say it was kinda hot? The thought of suckin’ out my soul?”

Laudna barks out a laugh and purples, hand moving to her own cheek.

“Imogen.”

She gives her best roguish grin and winks, grabbing Laudna’s hand.

“Dance with me?”

“Always.”

Their friends are in a circle when they return, Chetney throwing his body against the ground in a strange approximation of a worm as the others clap, and Laudna leans into Imogen as they settle between Orym and Ashton to watch, cheering him on.

[sociopathicartist]

heyy!! I was wondering if you could do a fluff (romantic) oneshot in which Sans (UT) has a gothic gf who is actually really sweet, kind and caring towards others despite the way she expresses herself. I'm just really curious as to how that dynamic will play out in their dating life ^_^

LUV LUV LUV UR WRITING BTW

hey! thank you for requesting, i’m gothic in style so i loved getting requested this! i scrambled through a lot of ideas, but thought doing this in a letter format would be the best for showing the full dynamic that sans loves instead of cramming tons of info into a single scenario one shot. hope you enjoy it!

baby,

i’m not too sure why i’m writing to you this time. i guess all the smiles and loving comments you give me whenever i write to you have finally got ‘under my skin’, and i’m writing you another letter right now, probably to be slipped into one of your bags or under your pillow for you to find.

i know a lot of people give you weird looks for the way you dress. i know the barrage of compliments you get when we go anywhere out in public annoys you, but i also know that you accept every compliment anyway despite wanting to be left alone because you don’t want to be mean, and you don’t want to fall under the stereotype that people place on you by just giving a small smile instead of a loud, outgoing thank you.

you’ve never said that to me directly, but i’ve been with you long enough to know how you feel.

i never really understood why people thought you were scary or mean for the way you look, figures they’d think the walking skeleton was scarier, or the seven-foot robot they watch on tv who has a chainsaw that can come out of him at will.

i never thought you looked scary, and i never had the fear that you were going to insult me whenever i asked you for directions down the street where we first met. why would i look at you differently for the way you look whenever everyone looks so different all the time? isn’t it a normal thing to be different?

even though you’re the most beautiful person i’ve ever seen (even if you turned into a worm, which yes, i’d still love you), it wouldn’t matter to me if you woke up tomorrow and decided to change your entire look. your looks aren’t what matters to me, even though i do like the cool eyeliner you wear or the t-shirts you have with bones on them.

i’ve never been loved by someone like the way i am by you.

i can’t get your alluring voice out of my head, and every time i roll over in bed to see the silly letters and doodles you’ve given me that i have pinned to my wall, i can’t help but be reminded of how much i love you. (even though i never forget, baby.)

it makes me so happy to see how much you hang out with papyrus, and how genuinely you treat him. i love seeing you chill out with our friends, and how happy and relaxed you look. i love how you’ve never made me feel dumb for not knowing certain human traditions or cultures, and how you just explain them to me and give me easy reminders when i forget something important.

even when your black lipstick leaves kiss stains on my skull that are hard to rub out, and when you steal my jacket to wear whenever you’re upset or missing me, i’ll never take away from how amazing you are.

maybe i’m gushing a bit too much. it’s a lot easier to write this all out rather than say it directly to your pretty face.

i just want you to know that i’ll never look at you differently for how you dress and that i’ll never be embarrassed and ask you to tone down your makeup or outfit for when we go out. i can’t wait to hang out tomorrow and wrap you in a tight hug, listening to your pretty voice as you tell me about how your day was.

i think i’m going to save the other mushy stuff for a later time. i just wanted you to be able to read this when someone gives you a weird comment or makes a snarky joke. maybe it’ll help you remember that some short skeleton out there thinks you’re the coolest (and hottest) creature to walk on this earth.

i love you, and i’ll be thinking of you always.

- sans.

[lemon-natalia]

Gideon the Ninth Reaction - Chapter 36

well this was a remarkably long chapter wow

Go Camilla, coming in clutch! And Gideon has her longsword back at least to give her a bit of an advantage

Silas and Colum struggled against Ianthe as a newly formed Lyctor still in conflict with Naberius’s soul, Harrow, Gideon, and Camilla vs. a ten-thousand year old Lyctor, even with all three of them, is not remotely a fair fight

'But now this benighted vision stood before its natural predator’ ok i’ll admit i wasn’t sold on Harrow for much of the first half of this book, but i would now like to state that she is pretty fucking awesome

‘But her smile was long and sweet and beautiful’ awwwww, these two, i think this is the first time Gideon's called Harrow beautiful? also even fighting an eldritch being Gideon cannot help but notice hot women

‘We do bones, motherfucker’ fuck yeah, well put!ohhh Harrow and Gideon fight so well together and just incredibly in tandem … which of course horribly foreshadows Gideon’s decision at the end of the chapter 🫠

WHAT’S THIS, it's HARROW with a STEEL CHAIR!! If the chair was a bunch of skeletons and perpetual bone

and of course Harrow can’t resist boasting even in the middle of a giant fight. Good For Her. also this girl faints so much

oh and Ianthe’s back for Meat Battle Round 2: Electric Boogaloo! Ianthe vs Cytherea feels like a kaiju fight except with more bones and meat and blood

'You’re very brave - a bit like another Gideon I used to know’ wow what with all the dramatic fights and revelations happening the last couple chapters i totally forgot about the other Gideon, confirmation i guess that they were involved somehow back when all the Lyctors were first created?

poor Camilla, imagine you spend what you think are the last moments before your horrific death third wheeling

these two just cannot stop sacrificing themselves for each other can they 😢😢

'And she fell forward, right on the iron spikes’ my brain is totally bluescreening right now istg if Gideon dies permanently i will lose it

[jacqcrisis]

Hello! Sorry if you're tired of talking about your older writing instead of the current works which I also love, but I wanted to say I love your characterization(s) of Charon throughout your work and I was wondering if you had any tips on understanding his character's core/just how to write him true to form?

Listen. Listen. I can talk about Charon all day. I love him. I have other hades AUs I haven’t even talked about on here that I think about often to this day and if I ever get the itch, they will be written.

And that’s very kind of you to say. Idk if I write him true to any form, but I am extremely anal about keeping characters as in character as possible. Or at the very least, as believably in character as I can. When I plan on writing a character for a longer fic, whether AU or not, I usually try to find out everything about them and break them down to the bone before building it back up. What is in canon that I can use to build back a believable skeleton that is fleshed by what I can infer from the bones underneath?

So core character concepts for Charon that are in canon that I use:

Greedy - he likes him gold and him stuff. No matter what universe you are writing in, this is one of, if not, the biggest driving factor for any job or hobby he has. He wants money, he likes money, and he knows how to make money.

Protective - of his things, his lifestyle, and the people he cares about. He’ll fight Zagreus, who he likes, if he touches his shit. One of the few emotions you can get out of him in game is anger at possibly uncovering his ‘thing’ with Hermes. He keeps Persephone’s location a secret (thereby protecting her) because either he cares for her or because Nyx does and Charon cares about his mom.

Difficult to discern - in part because he’s a big spooky skull man whose face you can’t see and who doesn’t talk, but it also seems to be mostly on purpose. Charon can communicate, given what other characters know more about him, but he specifically chooses not to. What you come to know about him, you find out through context clues, what other people say, and your own sleuthing which leads to-

Extremely private and disinterested in other people’s opinions about him - to the point, he doesn’t care what the GODS THEMSELVES think. All of them think he’s vile and nasty (save for Hermes). The people he’s close with know the kind of person he is, and that’s what matters. On top of that, he has his secrets, and he keeps them hidden, one of these secrets being who he is as a person. 

Independent - Nyx states she doesn’t worry about him because he’s extremely good at doing his own thing and he likes it that way, unlike her other failsons. His intentions are all on his own, and he doesn’t answer to anyone; not her, not Hades, not the gods, only himself. If he is helping someone, it is for his own reasons (maybe because he cares, probably because of money, possibly because Hermes asked).

Clever - He’s literally the head of an underground smuggling ring in game. Like this man knows how to do shit, make money, and get away with it. He’s capable of thinking many steps ahead, and able to plan for the long con.

Methodical - He's got his routine. He rows his boat. He counts his coin. He's mans his shops. He does things his way. He has his methods and he sticks to them.

Patient - that one's a gimme. He’s older than most of the gods and paddles a ferry around at the pace of molasses and doesn’t speak and does nothing to really speed Zagreus’ plight along. Clearly he understands and practices patience. 

Good Fighter - he’ll beat your ass.

Asexual (of some kind) - Aphrodite directly states she can’t get to Charon as he only ‘lusts after coin’. He is immune to machinations of the goddess of sex and beauty. But not the god of merchants, clearly.

A Gentleman - by Hermes’ opinion. Hermes really likes Charon. Please say hi to him for Hermes because- 

Charon Really Likes Hermes - no matter what you think is going on between them, if it’s just friendship, or professional associates, or he’s in love, this is canon. He ignores everyone at the party for Hermes and vice versa. He’s very protective of the thing they have going on. He specifically lets Hermes into the Underworld far enough that Zeus can’t sense him anymore. Hermes hangs out in his shop. Hermes boon is THE MOST EXPENSIVE ONE AT HIS LAST SHOP NO MATTER WHAT. I cannot stress how much Charon gives Hermes a pass and how much Hermes seemingly knows about him despite the other core concepts listed above I just- I- AH

Anyways, from those bones, you can start to infer and build back a believable version of the character for whatever you are writing. Is he kind and thoughtful? Probably, given how the people who know him talk about him. Is he loyal? Given how he acts in regards to his inner circle, you could say yes. Does he have a temper? Probably not, given he doesn’t care much about other people’s opinions nor reacts very much to anything in canon save for very specific circumstances. Is he lonely? Probably, on some level considering he’s alone all the time and how protective he is of his buddy, etc, etc, etc. 

The bones justify what you are putting on top of them and with that, for whatever thing you're writing, you can build up a believable version of a character. Even in the most extreme of AUs, like in the 70’s and on a beach in America or maybe in a dnd type universe where a character might be a lich for…reasons, as long as the core concepts are in place and every decision or authorial deviation from canon the characters make stem from those, it will be fine.

[crowcalling]

sigh… the thoughts win, the anons have won too…

here you little shits you wanna enable me? get fucking ice water dumped on you as a reminder of how fucked up I rlly am /aff /nr /nm

Cw for cannibalism, cannibalistic fantasies, dub-con, pressure point usage (idc that he’s a skeleton I’ll HC whatever the fuck I want <3), temporary paralysis, technically torture?, Sadism, Consent withdrawn, etc

nothing sexual going on tho so yeah 👍

ALSO THIS IS NOT BE CONDONING THIS IN ANY WAY. these are just really fucked up shit that goes through my head most likely due to me being a sociopath and mentally unwell person so yeah.

lemme know if there’s any other warnings it needs.

There’s been too many thoughts and fantasies in my mind recently of doing absolutely horrid shit to Ink, more specifically cannibalistic thoughts bc I’ve had those since I was a kid-

but just rlly clear visualization of Ink beneath me, it’s sweet at first gentle bites to his neck, just basic cuddling, etc.. But then it shifts to an unfortunately all to family feeling of craving just to fucking HURT something, and he’s right. There.

His sweet scent and taste right there and so easy to just.. destroy. While he’s completely relaxed and unaware.

And when those urges hit me I can’t even fucking stop and it gets so bad to where I bite myself at times, but why would I need to do that when his pretty bones are right there on display?

I could just slither my hands up and down and hit juust the right pressure points to make him lock up with a whine of confusion due to the temporary paralysis settling in and, leaving him vulnerable.

All the while I get to bite down to my sadistic hearts content and listen to the sweet sound of his clavicle beginning to crunch under the harsh treatment.

The addictive marrow and inky ‘blood’ seeping into my jaws as I just keep biting, and biting, and biting.

The sounds of his whines as he pleads softly to stop, that it hurts, however all falling to an audience of deaf ears.

My teeth are use to crunching bones, every time I eat something with bones inside, I eat it, no matter how thick the bone is I still manage to consume it and reduce it to nothing.

So his, are nothing but light work.

Breaking off his clavicle and taking a bit to crunch and chew before swallowing down the sweetly addictive substance of his magic. The gasp of pain and tremble through his bone as I move to the next spot.

Tracing his pretty patterns on his bones that almost look like porcelain with how beautiful he is, but oh how much more beautiful would he look if I just decided to rip that all up~

His ecto shimmering underneath that’s so desperately trying to dispel as I press my claws rough against the faux flesh, like he’s a present, that was about to get the wrapping torn off.

Cooing false comforts as I keep digging my nails into the flesh, the blood welling between my fingers and I can’t help but imagine how stunning his false organs would look if I tore them out and engorged in his liver..

Eventually moving away back to biting and eating away at his bones; things like his ulna parts of his spine, neck, etc.

All so deliciously irresistible.

Perfect for consumption.

[fatale-distraction]

Abigail Ingellvar

The Records of Abigail Ingellvar series on Ao3

Not an artist, so forgive the bad collage.

Veilguard 30 Prompt list by @pavus ; I added 31: Opinion on Inquisitor.

Abigail’s Pinterest

Name: Abigail Ingellvar

Age: 32

Race: Elf

Background: Mourn Watch

Class / Spec: Rogue/Saboteur

Gender: Female

Sexuality: Pan/Bi demisexual

Parentage: Unknown

Siblings: Unknown

Early Childhood: Discovered by undead servants in the Necropolis as an infant. Raised alongside the Mortalitasi and Mourn Watch, recommended for their ranks at a very young age due to her affinity with spirits and the undead, though she lacks magical abilities. She meets Emmrich as a young man in his apprenticeship and proceeds to forget about him as anything other than “man who was nice to me once.”

Adolescence: Meets Emmrich again as a young adult in her own apprenticeship. He’s kind and helpful and she develops a serious crush on him, but due to their age difference, settles for an admiring glance now and then.

First Love: A young Mortalitasi who met her unfortunate end on a mission deep within the Necropolis. Her body was recovered and repurposed as a skeleton guard per her own wishes, but Abigail can’t bear to see her. Yes I love Gideon the Ninth, why do you ask

First Hate: Ex-boyfriend who turned out to be Venatori. He is now “missing”, correctly presumed dead.

Favorites: Tea, books, soup, anemone flowers and thistle, stormy weather

Injuries / Scars: Lightning strike scars on her left arm from a direct-contact electricity spell

Distinguishing Features: Spectacles, CC willing. Very slight chin cleft and a beauty mark above her lip on the left side.

Voice Type: British English

Vices: Wine and brandy; occasionally smokes tobacco and/or elfroot; will gamble at Wicked Grace, billiards, or dice if invited

Virtues: Doesn’t swear often, modest, patient, compassionate toward the less fortunate

Homeland: Presumed to be Nevarra, but technically unknown

Height / Build: 5’1”, slim/muscular

Hair / Eye color: Pale brown hair, very long and wavy when loose. She prefers to wear it up, as it makes her feel more adult and professional, and when it is down she feels childish and vulnerable. Brown eyes like strong tea.

Personality: Patient, compassionate, but withdrawn and introverted. She has a good sense of humor, but she’s quiet so people are usually caught off guard, or make the mistake of thinking she’s serious. Gets along better with spirits and skeletons than she does with most people.

Aspirations: Finding out where she came from, being the best Mourn Watcher she can, finally feeling like she belongs somewhere

Fears: scarabs, large dogs (small dogs are okay), dark spawn, specifically brood mothers, blight sickness

Hobbies: Reading, researching Dalish customs, especially funerary rites, embroidery, chess, long walks in dreary weather, making scrap-books to help memorize important information about the undead she’s in charge of.

Views on Magic: Magic is something she actively studies alongside the Mortalitasi. Although she doesn’t have any magical abilities herself, she is knowledgeable and respectful of magic. She doesn’t fear it or venerate it. It’s a tool that can be used for good or evil, and shouldn’t be used without proper understanding of it. She frequently compares magic to a bone saw, prompting concern from some of her less-funny peers.

Views on Elves: She longs to feel like she belongs to a Dalish clan, or even an alienage community, but knows she doesn’t. She admires elven culture across Thedas, whether Dalish or not. Although she studies the gods, she doesn’t really believe in them (or the Maker for that matter. Her beliefs are probably closer to agnostic with a touch of Avvar spirituality) until she sees them before her eyes.

Views on the Veilguard: Was NOT thrilled about the idea of leading a group, but she likes Varric and Harding. Once she meets the rest of the Veilguard she likes them a lot and begins to feel very at home with them, which is a new sensation for her.

(INITIAL) Views on Solas: Slappable. Soggy. Sad. 5/10, unimpressed. Later, she is attracted to his scholarly nature and begins to enjoy his company. She genuinely begins to like him when she realizes the depth of his feelings for the Inquisitor.

Views on the Inquisitor: Loves her. They like the same dirty romance novels and the same tea, and Ellana is TERRIBLE at Wicked Grace, so Abigail beats her frequently. After meeting Ellana, Abigail is 75% more motivated to slap the shit out of Solas.

[shewhowas39]

pairing: Astarion x f!durge (June)/OC fic summary: in which Astarion's nice, simple plan crumbles when he falls for neutral good, cinnamon roll of a divination wizard who may or may not be a Bhaalspawn.

(art by @/dafna-winchester)

chapter title: #1 Crush chapter summary: in which the gang fights skeletons, June is in trouble (because feeeeelings), and Bone Daddy is here! content warnings: violence, injury, blood, discussions of Astarion's past trauma

A/N: this one took me longer than planned, but it's here! no kissing (i'm sorry!!! but more soon, i swear!) but i hopefully make up for it with some longing.

***

“I suppose you want to hear about Cazador,” he says with a very put-upon sigh. 

June looks up at him, blinking with surprise and confusion at the unexpectedness of this topic. The Dancing Lights spell she had cast to help her see what she was writing twirl and blink overhead, lighting the planes of Astarion’s pale face with a faint blue hue. 

“You don’t gotta talk about anything you don’t wanna, Astarion.”

“I don’t want to say a damned thing,” he says, “but that won’t do anyone any good.”

“All right.” June closes her spellbook and sets it aside before shifting to face Astarion. Her knee brushes his, sending butterflies fluttering about in her stomach. She folds her hands in her lap and focuses on his face. His beautiful face. “I’m listening.”

“So, you already know the condensed version - that Cazador is a monster who craves power over people and that I, as his spawn, was forced to do his bidding,” Astarion says, almost flippantly. “But the longer version is no less grim. If you want to understand the true cruelty of the vampire lord, then you should first know that he gave me a choice.”

“A choice?”

“I had been attacked by a gang of thugs who were angry about a ruling a made as magistrate,” he explains. “They had beaten me nearly to death before Cazador found us. He chased them off, and then offered me eternal life. He insisted I say it out loud. That I wanted it. And with my only options being eternal life or bleeding out on the street, I took him up on the offer.”

As much as she doesn’t want to, June can’t help but imagine that night. Astarion lying on the street, bruised and bleeding, in pain and scared as his life slipped away from him. And the dark figure standing over him, offering him a twisted form of salvation. And then she remembers his mother, the woman whose hair he combed as a child, whom he said he was close to, believing her son died in an alley, never knowing he was right there in the same city, keeping his distance from her for her own good..

A lump rises in June’s throat, but she tries to swallow it down. She doesn’t think Astarion is seeking sympathy right now. 

“Why, um, why would he make you choose?” she asks. “Why not just turn you if that’s what he wanted?”

[betterthanyalls]

Heyeyeye ok so I’m losing some motivation (IM NOT QUITTING!!!) so to gain some back I decided to do a crackshot! I haven’t done one in a while so I’m suspecting that it might help get my mind flowing :) Anyways here ya go!!

Masterlist

Reading Songs

Superstar!Sans x Reader

Words: 641

Published: 5-26-2024

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

I was crowded by the huge crowd all around me. It was a huge rave that my friend convinced me to go to but now she left me. I hate this. I hate all the noise and people. Everyone is so loud and obnoxious. It’s just a rave, can’t they be quiet? Anyways, I was standing near the side of the room while the DJ played some music. I was reading my book, It Starts With Us by Colleen Hoover. She is my favorite author ever. I can relate to every one of her books, it’s like she writes them just for me.

The DJs loud voice over the microphone cut me out of my reading world as I sighed in frustration. Couldn’t they have some compassion for a booktoker like myself? Grumbling out my anger, I listened to what the DJ had to say.

“Yo yo yo! What is up with my gangstas! Tonight we have a special someone just for you guys!!! Let me hear you holler! It’s the one, the only, Funny Bone!!” The DJ introduced the star, an extremely famous idol known for his comedy songs. Smoke filled the stage as a figure appeared. Once in view, I saw him. I saw the most hottest and majestic man there ever was. But he wasn’t even a man….he was a skeleton. From his tall 6’4 height to his buff bones and ribcage. But, I wasn’t like all these other girls. I wasn’t going to swoon over some guy I don’t even know.

I ignored how he was dancing and doing a hot jig while his voice serbaded the room. I continued to read my book. But soon, I heard the music louder and more direct. Looking up, I saw the singer in front of me. He was holding his hand out for me to grab while looking in my eyes. The skeleton continued singing a love song.

“Cause I don’t mind if the world spins faster

Music’s louder, the waves get stronger

I don’t mind if the world spins faster

faster

faster

Just let me take you to a better place!”

I am in shock. I slowly grab his boney hand and he pulls me onto the stage and holds me close in his arms. My beautiful orbs look up to him through my long fluttery lashes. He looks in my colorful spheres while still singing. Funny Bone spins me around in a circle. Soon enough, the song and concert is over and the crowd cheers loudly before leaving. But I’m still on stage with Funny Bone. Once the entire audience leaves, he turns to me with a big smile.

“I saw you down there reading, I didn’t know someone could be so beautiful and so natural!” He complimented me with those dark eyes, only lit up by a blue dot in each. I laugh nervously as I look at this hunk of a man in front of me.

“Oh yeah, I’m just not like those other girls who swoon so easily.” I tuck a piece of hair behind my ear. I’m so small compared to him. He chuckled this deep and beeping chuckle.

“Yeah, you’re different. I like that about you. Anyways, my name is Sans. Sans Undertale.” He smirked at me with his husky voice. I blushed deeply.

“O-o-o-o-oh I i i i i i i i’m Y-y-y-y-y-y-y/n…” I looked down anxiously. He grabbed my chin, forcing me to look back at him. His eyes were half lidded as he gave me a dark smile.

“That’s a beautiful name, Y/n. And you’re so petite too, why don’t we go back to my room and talk more?” He suggested. I was shocked but hooked.

“Y-y-y-yes pl-p-please…” I accepted quietly. I’m just some nerdy girl. He is a superstar. How could he ever like me?

[luna-is-lost]

UNDERWELCOMED

Part 12

Sans POV:

“Umm… S-Sans?” My brother shifted uncomfortably as he spoke. “what’s up?” He looked more nervous as I spoke… Why though… Did I do something wrong… did he forget something or… someone… “W-Well, I Was… Wondering… uh… Where Did We… umm… Live? Like B-Before Here?… “…” “…” I could feel the corners of my mouth tilt down as I spoke. Subconsciously trying to keep my chill, laidback demeanor. “why’s it matter? someone talkin’ about it?” He wrung his hands as he avoided my eyes. “Uhh… Well No… I Was J-Just Wondering,” his voice lost volume as he spoke, “ Because… I… ummm… N-Never mind… It’s Not I-Important…. Sorry…” “paps, i… i’m sorry, didn’t mean it like ‘that’.” “It’s Fine… I Just… thought maybe I would remember something if I learned about the past…” He quieted to an almost whisper… I dislike the thought of telling Papyrus more of our years of captivity… but he… he deserves the truth… Plus, it’s worth it for him to remember. How could I describe what it was like to him, though? He’s always seen things differently than me… Maybe I could…” heya, bro” He looked at me hopefully. “ Yes, Sans?” “why don’t i show you” “Really?!” He smiled, though it looked slightly painful. “yeah, no skin off my bones” I shot him a joking smile and he shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. I tell him to hold on tight and teleport us… home.

☞︎☹︎⚐︎🕈︎☜︎✡︎ POV

There’s a zap of… magic! That can’t possibly be right, everyone’s gone! They all left after the player gave up… SO WHO WAS THAT?! Moving forward, I think they’re walking through Snowdin. Is that….

“here we are, home. this is snowdin.” “Wowie… It’s… Beautiful!” “yeah” “Sans, Look, I R-Remember That, That’s T-The Inn! The Nice Inn Keeper U-Used To Give M-Me Lollipops And Pats O-On The Head!” “that’s right, pap, i’m glad you remembered. let’s looks around, then we should go the the house.” “Sounds G-Good!”

… IT’S THEM?! THE SMILING TRASH BAG AND HIS IDIOT BROTHER?! Why are they here? Shouldn’t they be all happy and adventurous on the surface? WHERE THEY WON’T BE ANNOYING?! …And why is Papyrus being shown around Snowdin by his brother? I know he’s easily fooled, but he isn’t stupid… Unless…

heheheheh!

This’ll be SO much fun!

Sans POV:

Papyrus has been looking around Snowdin for about 45 minutes. It’s kinda weird to see him so enticed by things we’ve seen everyday for [] years… “Wowie, Sans! T-There’s So Much Stuff T-To Explore!” “yep” “Umm… C-Could We Look A-At Our Old House?” “yeah, of course bro.” Our house was only about a minute or so away… probably not enough to convince pap to let me take a short-cut, and I shouldn’t leave him by himself for now. “S-Sans, Did We Really Live Here?” He asks with tear in his eye sockets as soon as he sees the house. “yeah, go and check it out, all of our stuff is still there, haven’t been able to move in to the surface yet.” “A-Alright!” He swiftly opens the door and cautiously peaks inside before deciding it was safe and walking in. I’d be lying if I said being here didn’t make me feel better… At least we were safe… A shudder runs down my spine as I think, ‘were we ever truly safe with the possibility of a genocidal human falling down here without warning?’. I can’t help but feel almost envious that Papyrus still has that unending, undeniable sense of optimism. To find the good in the bad… I think that’s a bit too philosophical for me. Pap is curiously eyeing the impracticality of the sink’s height. I can help but feel almost normal as he looks around. “heya, once you’re done exploring down here, how about you look at your old room.” “Do Y-You Think I’ll R-Remember Something F-From Digging Through My-My Past?” “it’s a good a shot as any…” “O-Okay, Brother!” He drags me up the stairs like he’s done it a thousand times, and he has, he just doesn’t remember.

☞︎☹︎⚐︎🕈︎☜︎✡︎ POV

“Hehehehe!” The skeletons are busy looking around together, but sooner or later Smily will be gone and I can ‘help’ poor, credulous Papyrus! Out of the ‘goodness of my heart’ and all… “Sans! L-Look At T-Those Action Figures!” “i know, pretty cool right.” “Sans?” “yeah?” The lazy one yawns. “You L-Look R-Really Tired, Would You Like To N-Nap For A Bit? It’s like Papyrus can read my mind! Ha! This is going WAY better than expected! “yeah…” he unceremoniously lies on Papyrus’s bed and is out like a light. Leaving poor Papyrus to his own devices. I’ve never liked Snowdin all too well, the Earth is rather tough… Oh well, this is to PERFECT of an opportunity to pass up!

Papyrus’s POV:

A light knocking sound rings through the silent house, starting me as my brother rests peacefully. Sprinting down the stairs with more energy than the core itself… the core? Where in the underground did that come from… AM I REMEMBERING THINGS?!

That aside I open the door to see a small ✡︎☜︎☹︎☹︎⚐︎🕈︎ ☞︎☹︎⚐︎🕈︎☜︎☼︎. “H-Hello… uh How C-Can I Help You?” It smiles a bit too wide before answering. “Howdy, Papyrus, I’m your best friend, ☞︎☹︎⚐︎🕈︎☜︎✡︎! Don’t you remember me?” I feel really guilty… “N-No, I uhh I Don’t, S-Sorry Friend…” He looks very disappointed… I’m a bad friend… “Oh… that’s so sad… you left me all alone and then forgot about me? I thought we were friends, Papyrus… I guess I should just leave-“ “-! Wait, W-We Can Still Be F-Friends! P-Please?” “Really?” ,His smile returns slightly, “ I think that’s a wonderful idea, we should hangout right now! I can even remind you of the past… Wouldn’t you like that?” I shift uncomfortably. Sans would NOT like me going with a stranger while he isn’t around, even if they claim to be my best friend… I’m not that gullible, and wouldn’t someone try to manipulate a monster you can barely remember their own name… I can only trust Undyne and Sans… Right? I mean… they didn’t really tell me much of my past… Sans seemed almost avoidant of it when I first asked. Still, this is dangerous, especially if ☞︎☹︎⚐︎🕈︎☜︎✡︎ is working with the humans… IS THIS A TRAP! “Papyrus, I don’t have all day… don’t you want to spend time with me? I AM your best friend after all. Unless, you don’t trust me… “ W-Well, uh Friend, I F-Feel It Would Be A Poor Decision To Go With Someone Down Here Without Sans Knowing, Especially If I Don’t Know Or Remember Them…” “S-so we aren’t friends anymore…?” He sniffs before dropping sadly… I’m an awful friend, how could I betray someone like that… He’s been nothing but kind to me, and I can’t say that about many people… He also said he was alone, so… “W-Wait! I’m S-Sorry ☞︎☹︎⚐︎🕈︎☜︎✡︎ Please D-Don’t Go, If You Let Me Tell Sans B-Before We Go, Then It’ll Probably Be O-Okay!” He turns his head back up to look at me. “Friend… Sans doesn’t WANT you to remember, Why do you think he fell asleep when you wanted to keep looking around?”,How did he…,”He wants you to be easily confused and manipulated, they only saved you so you couldn’t give the humans information.” How does he know all of this… why do his words bother me so much? Have I always doubted that people love and want to protect me?… If so… “ A-Alright, I’ll Go With Y-You, But I N-Need To Be Home B-Before Sans Wakes U-Up.” “Okay, Papyrus! I’m so glad you chose to hang out with me! Follow me!” “O-Of Course, My F-Friend!”

———————————————————————

Sans POV:

Something’s wrong. I haven’t even opened my eyes yet, but I know something is wrong. “papyrus?” …silence… Papyrus isn’t in the room. Opening my eyes and half falling out of bed, I quickly realize… he isn’t even in the house. Taking a quick glance at the clock it tells me I’ve been asleep for almost 2 hours… That’s bad… How long has he been gone?!

“pap?!” I shout around Snowdin, teleporting or walking anywhere my brother could have run off to… I just hope he isn’t lost in the forest… That thing goes on forever… “papyrus?!” The world echos back his name, but nobody answers. …A painful scream shatters the world’s silence… “Papyrus?!” A vine throws my brother 10 feet in front of me. He opens his eyes blearily and begins to mumble. “papyrus?! what happened, where did you go?!” He struggles to breathe as I crouch in front of him. “S-Sans��-“ An awful cough interrupts him, “I… R-Remember… E-E-Everything…” He promptly passes out, leaving me to wonder what happened… “Heheheh! Hahaha! AHAHAHAHAH!!”…

FLOWEY?!

…Chapter 13 coming soon-ish…

[beewolfwrites]

The Oar in the Sand - Chapter Twenty-Eight: The Seventh Day of Nostos

Here, have another chapter! Literally can’t wait for the reunion, but I also couldn’t help myself and decided to add some angst. Because it’s fun, and why not.

Enjoy :)

I honestly just keep forgetting to include these, but the AO3 link is here. 

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There was something beautiful about stepping into the pink and blue dusk of the evening. The sun had almost set, the sky streaked with vibrant pinks, lavenders and greys. There was a screech of metal above, and I looked up at the sleek hotel before me. The King of Hearts blimp billowed in a gust of heat, tilted, and drifted to the ground like a burning star. It collided into one of the neighbouring buildings, the explosion sending a shockwave of hot air blasting through the streets. 

I shielded my face with my forearm as a piece of paper whipped through the air and landed on my shoe. Picking it up, I realised it was a leaflet. The photograph on the cover was almost identical to the glossy skyscraper before me. The only thing absent was the busy influx of pedestrians and traffic outside. 

‘The Tokyo Horizon Hotel.’ 

I flipped it over, looking at the pictures one by one. Everything about the staff seemed artificial to me, from the pristine red blazers to their immaculate hairlines. Despite this, I instantly recognised that glint in her eye, a slyness disguised beneath a professional smile. She was sitting at the very reception desk I had been leaning against just hours before, posing for the camera.   

‘Izanami,’ I whispered, deep in thought. ‘She was the receptionist.’ 

A receptionist turned King. There was something unexpectedly funny about it, probably because it made absolute sense to me. She was the face of the hotel, having encountered every possible type of customer under the sun. She knew the ins and outs of the industry, was privy to the drama that occurred behind closed doors, and even the drama that filtered through the grapevine. Of course she was the King of Hearts; she knew exactly what made people tick.  

And now she was gone. It was a shame. If not for the circumstances, I could have become friends with someone so carefree and easy as she was. 

But I can still remember her. 

I could still carry her memory with me, like a token or a good luck charm. In a way, she had died so that I could live. I just had to make it count somehow. For now though, I needed to find my way back home. 

Back to Chishiya, to Kuina…

And back to my older brother, who was still out there, somewhere, waiting for me. 

I wandered deeper into the city using only the familiarity of the streets to guide me. Thick swathes of tall grass covered the pavements and roads, and it was difficult recognising store fronts through the vines and foliage. Scattered around in the grass, the bodies of players had been reduced to bones, each one a victim of the King of Spades. They were still carrying their weapons, their clothes now rags against their hollow white skeletons. It wasn’t right that a human body should decompose so quickly. It meant that my suspicions had been correct all along; time was altered here. The city was a jungle, and as I waded through the overgrowth, Izanami’s words haunted my mind. 

‘Life isn’t a race, it’s a labyrinth. If you’re not careful, you’ll end up going round and round in circles.’ 

Her dying words were uncanny. In her game, if I had simply carried on guessing answers at random, my points would have hovered around a neutral 25. I would have been trapped forever in that room, going round and round in circles. 

It really was like a labyrinth… 

How many times had I made a similar comparison with the city? Too many to count. It was as if she had read my thoughts, knew the ins and outs of my heart, as strange as it sounded. 

And now as I roamed the streets, deftly avoiding stepping on bony fingers and spines, I realised that Tokyo was opening up, welcoming me back inside its web. Even as the darkness of the evening skulked along the corners and alleyways, I followed my gut instinct, tracing a mental map until I turned onto a smaller side-street, coming to a stop before the small building opposite me.

The furniture store. 

There were no candles lit in the windows. No signs of life. I opened the door and slipped inside, tasting the dank mustiness of the air. It was cold, but everything was as it had been before we left. Our makeshift living room was still in place, the armchairs turned on each other in a circle, a flimsy coffee table between them. 

Inside the small kitchen, I found a can of Kuina’s favourite corn soup in one of the cupboards. And so, lighting a few candles on the windowsill, I prepared the portable stove we had used to fashion meals with so many times. It was on the kitchen surface, a little dusty but still usable. I poured the can of soup into a pan and left it to warm up as I explored upstairs. 

The staircase was dark, and the room upstairs even more so. But even in the darkness, I would have recognised that bed from anywhere. It was still as a photograph, a moment in time captured. The way the covers were thrown back, an indentation in each pillow, mine and Chishiya’s. It was only days ago, but it already felt like a fragment of our history. 

I ran my palm along the bedside table, searching for the one thing I had left behind. 

My ring should be here somewhere.

I wasn’t there. I searched the floors and under the bed, but my ring was nowhere to be seen. I raked my hand along every nook and cranny, feeling for its familiar shape, and only growing more and more frustrated when I couldn’t find it. This couldn’t be happening. It meant too much to me. 

I can’t lose it again!

The only explanation I could think of was that somebody had been here after us and they had taken it. Or, it had rolled away into a corner where I couldn’t see it. As impatient as I was, it was too dark to look properly, and so I begrudgingly resigned myself to waiting. 

I’ll have to look again tomorrow when it’s lighter. But still, my ring… 

Sighing, I headed back downstairs to my simmering corn soup. A warm bowlful later, and I was curled up in my old armchair, trying to fall asleep in the ambient candlelight but unable to shake off the fear that the King of Spades would turn up when I least expected it, and I would become one of those many skeletons.

I tried instead to turn my thoughts toward Chishiya. Finding him was my first priority right now. Now that I was clear-headed, I could understand his perspective a little more. The detachment, the alienation. He had never truly told me about the full extent of his isolation. Only that his parents had ignored him, and he had been mostly raised by the house staff. When he first told me, in the lingering quiet after we explored each other’s bodies, I hadn’t appreciated the full weight of that moment.

And the way he’d fired his pistol at Banda, and sat waiting outside after I’d barricaded myself in one of the cells. Even our conversation in the hospital, his adamance that he wouldn’t take part in a game with me. I had been adamant too. I was willing to play together, even if only one of us survived. 

‘Are you really willing to risk an outcome like that? How selfish?’

Back then, his words had thrown me off. They came across as strange and uncharacteristic, but in actuality, I was just blind.  

I understand now. 

I would feel it too. If Chishiya died in a game, where would that leave me? Wandering around Tokyo alone without a shred of hope. That kind of existence wasn’t worth living for. 

God, he was right. I’m really am that selfish… we both are. 

It was time to change things.  

But right now, my eyes were heavy, so heavy, and it was becoming impossible to keep my mind from slipping away into a velvety slumber. Curled up in my armchair, I watched the light of the candle flames flickering on the wall like shadow puppets, until I fell into a heady, dreamless sleep. 

________________________________________________

My eyes flew open. 

I was still curled in my armchair, my neck stiff. However, the cold room was bathed in darkness.  The candles on the window ledge had blown out, and only faint slant of moonlight filtered through the window, illuminating the armchair across from me. 

A shiver brushed the back of my neck.

Someone’s here. 

I gently unfurled myself, listening carefully for any indication of footsteps or breathing. There was nothing. Everything in the room was exactly where it was supposed to be. It was just the candles. I got up and walked towards the window, inspecting them. The wax around the wick was still warm and liquid. It could only mean they had been blown out recently. 

Raising my head to the window pane, I saw my tired reflection staring back at me. And then I froze. A dark, familiar face grinned from behind me, hovering just over my shoulder. There was a click, and I felt the barrel of a gun press into my back.

‘Don’t even fucking think of moving.’

I should have known Niragi would find me eventually. It was only a matter of time. Although it was actually rather impressive that he was still clinging to the revenge he craved for his burn scars. It was an act of self defence, and most people would have moved on by now. 

He’s not most people, clearly. 

‘You’re the same as ever,’ I said, stifling a yawn. ‘Always trying to show off your guns. It must be tiring.’ 

‘I could say the same thing. Not going to show off that terrible foreigner’s accent?’ 

‘I don’t need to.’ I stuck to my native tongue, looking him straight in the eye through our reflections in the glass. ‘I know you can understand me.’ 

Niragi pulled a face of disinterest, but beneath the facade I could see his curiosity. 

‘Back at the Beach, when you first confronted me about Chishiya’s plans, you seemed to be able to understand me even when I wasn’t speaking in Japanese. It was the same when I was at the bar, right before…’ His mouth quirked in self-satisfaction, and I dropped the sentence altogether. ‘And on the rooftop. You understood everything.’ 

He scoffed, jerking the gun harder against my spine. ‘What, did you think I’m an idiot or something? I went to school, obviously.’

‘You could have fooled me.’ 

It was only a mutter, but Niragi had heard it all the same. Grabbing my shoulder, he dragged me away from the window and forced me to sit in the armchair. I leaned back, crossing one leg over the other. He sat in the chair across from me, the handgun still pointed at my chest. 

‘You clearly have something planned,’ I said. ‘Otherwise I’d be dead by now.’ 

‘Well done, genius. Even though I’d love to put a bullet in your brain, there’s something else I’d like to do. Something more fun.’ 

Niragi looked terrible. There was a strange gleam in his eye, and the charred remains of his hair were an unruly against the scarred rivers running along his skin. Even his clothes were in tatters. It was a wonder, after everything he had done, that he was even still alive. 

‘We’re going to wait here for a while,’ he continued, ‘and then you and I are going to go for a little walk.’ 

I can see where this is going. 

A walk was never just a walk when Niragi was involved. I sighed deeply, knowing that I was at least safe for now. At this point, Niragi was too predictable for his own good. No doubt, he was going to take me to wherever Chishiya was just so he could have the satisfaction of killing one of us in front of the other. But if he led me to Chishiya, I would happily go along with his plan for now. 

Niragi hummed with fascination, the sound breaking through my thoughts. ‘You seem awfully compliant. What happened to the feisty little zebra who clawed at me?’ 

‘You have a gun and I don’t,’ I replied, nodding towards the handgun resting on his knee. ‘And I have no intention of dying just yet. My brother’s waiting for me.’ 

His mouth curling into a jagged smile. ‘Your brother, hm? What makes you think he’s still alive? He could be one of those skeletons out there, you know.’ 

The thought gave me pause for a moment, but I held my ground. I knew better. ‘He’s not dead. He’s in the other world. The real world, I mean.’ 

‘The real world.’ Something flashed in Niragi’s eyes, as if I had touched on his favourite subject. ‘Which world is the real world? You can live freely here. There are none of those man-made laws to hold you back from giving into your human instincts. You can kill or rape as many people as you want, take whatever drugs you what, there’s nobody to stop you. You can die freely too.’ 

I fought the urge to roll my eyes. ‘Well, since you’re here in this place, I’d much rather go back.’ 

Niragi didn’t seem fazed by the mild insult. If anything, there was a smugness about him, as though everything was vaguely funny. ‘You know, I’m surprised you’re here all alone,’ he said. ‘I assumed Chishiya would have come back, but clearly not.’ 

Now that was unexpected. 

‘You’ve seen him?’   

‘Perhaps.’ 

‘And you didn’t kill him.’  

Niragi shrugged. ‘Why would I, when I can kill both of you at once?’ 

I couldn’t hold back a snicker. ‘What, are you going to line us both up and try to do it with one bullet?’ 

His smile disappeared. The gun was against my forehead faster than I could blink. Niragi’s fingers were in my hair, against my scalp, pulling my head back until my face was mere inches from his. I let out an involuntary gasp, but tried to meet his gaze squarely. I couldn’t show him any fear. Not now. 

‘Don’t you fucking dare laugh at me,’ he snarled. I could smell blood on his breath, could feel the cold barrel of the gun against my temple. ‘I could easily kill you right now and spare myself the trouble.’ 

‘I’m sure you could,’ I murmured. ‘But we both know it wouldn’t be nearly as satisfying.’ 

He released my head violently, throwing me against the back of the armchair as he sat back down in his own. Through the window, the first streaks of a red dawn had finally appeared across the hazy concrete skyline. 

Niragi was quiet for a few minutes. He checked the bullets in his gun before sliding the mechanism back into place. ‘Get up,’ he ordered. ‘We’re leaving.’ 

I stood and looked over my shoulder at the stairs. Now that dawn was here, I would be able to see everything better. ‘Can I at least go to the bathroom before we go?’ 

He narrowed his eyes. ‘Where is it?’

‘It’s just at the top of the stairs.’ I waved a hand at the staircase. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll be quick.’ 

He stood up, gesturing to the stairs with his gun. ‘You’ve got two minutes. If you try anything, I’ll shoot you in the foot and you’ll have to walk on it.’ 

‘Fine. Two minutes is all I need.’ 

I sprung up the stairs and made a beeline for the bed I shared with Chishiya. His familiar scent still lingered on the linen, and it sent a sharp ache running through my chest. I would have given anything to go back to that time. It was turbulent, yes, but there were moments of sanctuary. 

I pushed thought away.  

Don’t get distracted! You don’t have long. 

That’s right. I now had less than two minutes to find this ring. I got to my knees, searching the gap behind the bedside table in case it had rolled off the edge. There was no sign of it. Growing more and more desperate, I pressed my face to the floor as I peered under the bed. No matter how hard I looked, the ring was nowhere to be seen. I was busy checking under the neighbouring bed when in the slant of light beneath the frame, I saw Niragi’s feet appear in the doorway. 

‘Oi! Get out of there before I drag you out.’ 

I crawled out from under the bed. Frustratingly, my ring was still missing. It must have rolled away into a dark corner somewhere in the crannies of the room. I hated being without it, but there really was nothing I could do. 

‘I lost something up here last night,’ I tried to explain myself. ‘While I was here I thought I’d check before we left.’ 

Niragi marched around the bed and grasped the back of my clothes, hauling me towards the doorway. 

‘Move!’ When I was too slow, he jabbed the gun firmly against my spine and pushed me forward. ‘Hurry the fuck up!’ 

Pff, you’re not going to shoot me. Not right now anyway. 

With the gun between my shoulder blades once more, I silently allowed Niragi to lead me down the stairs and out of the store. Dawn had broken, and to my surprise, the overgrown jungle was softened by birdsong. I hadn’t expected to hear birds singing in the middle of Tokyo. Only the flap of pigeons roaming around for scraps of food. But on second thought, nature had taken back the city. The birds had every right to flock here. 

Niragi didn’t tell me where we were heading, and I didn’t dare ask. I knew better than to goad him on further. I would keep walking and walking until Niragi gestured towards a new direction with his gun. It was a mystery to me, how he knew where he was going. I could only imagine that he had spied on Chishiya and worked out where he was staying. 

The sun was high in the sky, reaching a mid morning simmer when faint voices sounded from somewhere nearby. Niragi paused behind me, then pushed me forward in a vague direction. 

‘Keep moving,’ he hissed. 

I felt his breath against the shell of my ear and flinched away. He chuckled lightly at my reaction, but I refused to show him how it affected me. He wouldn’t take my dignity from me. 

Not again. Never again. 

The voices grew increasingly louder, and as we rounded a corner, I began to recognise the structures, the familiar crosswalks. 

Shibuya crossing?

I had visited this place with my brother on the day after we landed in Tokyo. In fact, his friend’s apartment was only a couple of minutes away. It was so different now that it was swamped in foliage. 

There were two figures in the distance, standing between abandoned cars on what would have been the iconic crosswalk. My heart pounded when I saw a shock of white, that familiar hoodie, his blond hair. It was Chishiya. But despite seeing him only a day ago, he looked so different. His face was darker, more mature, and his expression was strange. There was apathy there as usual, but lurking beneath that thin surface, there was something troubled about him. He was talking to Arisu, who appeared to be holding a rifle in both hands. Neither of them had noticed us standing there. 

I opened my mouth to call out to them, only for a hand on my shoulder to shove me back. Niragi pushed in front of me, raising his gun. 

No! 

Everything slowed, blurring into a haze as I launched myself at Niragi, wrapping my arms around him and clawing at his hands in a furious attempt to grab his gun. He buckled under my assault, letting out a guttural growl as he shoved his palm into my face, trying to push me away. I saw my opportunity, sinking my teeth into the dirty skin of his hand. 

‘Fuck! Get off, you rat!’ 

I bit down harder, ignoring the taste of dirt and blood on my tongue. However, Niragi twisted his entire body, throwing me to the ground before storming forward. 

Winded and wheezing, I scrabbled to my feet. ‘Niragi, don’t!’ 

‘Watch me,’ He grinned and pointed the gun once more at the pair. At him. 

Please, don’t!

I moved forward, my eyes on the one person I wanted by my side. I was too far to reach him and push him out of the way, and there was no way I could get to the gun in time. 

But I can still shout… 

‘Chi—’

My voice was silenced by the gunshot that ricochetted across Shibuya. Chishiya’s body twisted, the force of the impact knocking him to the ground. Blood splattered across his chest, tainting the white of his hoodie. 

[ibeta]

I need to focus, but my focus went to other drafts, and I wrote kustard so many times.

The plot bunnies are breeding so fast. I don't know what to doooo

My brain works on one, but every word is like a stupid prompt that makes me write a different draft, and I can’t stop making plots. And writing plots. Help, I'm trapped in a cycle of this never-ending writing hell ;^;

Ugh. What is this called. I'm all over the place and not in the place I want.

I have written drafts like:

- Purple TJOS!Sans x Mafia Don Sans

This TJOS Sans carries everyone in his domain, Don Sans protects everyone in his city. TJOS Sans can use his perseverance to keep monsters inside his inner world that has sunlight and sprawling green grass and everything a monster could desire. He travels universes, trying to find a place for his monster wards to keep as home. He becomes attached to the Don Sans that has similar responsibilities as him, except the mafia don doesn't have the ability to keep monsters inside a domain.

- Orange TJOS!Sans x Playboy Singer Mafia Red

Red wants that skeleton as a companion for a few months, so he flirts. In a phone call, Sans tells Papyrus that he's being hit on, and Papyrus tells him to hit them back harder. Sans thinks Papyrus wants him to bag a skeleton flirt, so he hits on Red. Misunderstandings happen, Sans has to run away, and Red has tasted a rare wine that is Sans and needs to get drunk on it, but Sans wants more.

- Travelling Temp Judge Sans x Lovestruck Mob Red

Sans shortcuts to a shootout in a wedding dress because of Toriel. Red sees this beautiful skeleton in a wedding dress suddenly appear in a gunfight and he's lovestruck even as Sans shoves the wedding dress in his arms and he sees the smaller skeleton destroy the human side and intimidate every momster on the battlefield.

- Star Red x Starstruck Sans

Sans falls in love with a literal star, no joke. He also has strange dreams... in this dream, an empty planet is above him. He uses it as a training ground for his magic... until the next dream comes, and it's suddenly full of monsters, the skeleton monsters have been wiped out, he finds two skeletons still alive... etc. His bones have been used as the base for crafting things. And he actually might own the planet and hadn’t known it.

- Octopearl Red x Blue Star Sans

Ocean Nerd Red, who is half-cephalopod and Space Expert Sans, who is actually a star. Red surfaces to figure out ways to save the ocean because humanity has messed it up and spilt basically everything in it. Sans had already been there long before Red and has been a famous space expert known for keeping his identity a secret. Sans one day picks up a pearlescent red bone attack and sets off on a boat to find the rest. In the night, he meets Red, who is pretending to swim naked since his half is still full of tentacles. They click with their ocean and space nerd. They become fast friends... Conveniently, Sans is revealed to be a skeleton monster afterwards.

They want to woo each other hard, but something bad happens, and they get one kiss before Red dies.

Note: Red collects all the pearls, builds an underwater nest, and he gifts Sans a "friendship" pearl that he uses to help him hear Sans' fluent mumbles. Sans collects ocean planets to put into his star systems. Because he... owns many stars. And because if Red wanted to preserve the ocean, Sans wanted him to have a choice on the location. Several of them... Neither know that the other skeleton isn't fully a skeleton OR a monster.

- Dynamics Professor Sans x Lost Red

It came from a Fontcest version. The Professor is a detached... professor that owns a dynamics club and teaches monsters all about the different types of desires. He uses a silver stick as a tool to help him point things out and always bas a designated cuddler for his "subjects" when they need it... and then a lost Red falls into this strange world, and he needs to feel danger to keep moving.

Red's session with The Professor proves that he can touch a subject that makes him feel "safe." Cue surprised monsters that had always wanted to bag that prof.

- Manipulative Sans x Vengeful Red

It's super sweet and creepy, Sans is actually stealth dating Red’s SOUL... basically using subtle soul luring techniques, while Red is trying to get revenge on his cheating ex and the fake innocent lamb that replaced him. In this story, Red finds Sans, who is collecting evidence of the fake innocent lamb's plots and pays Sans to help him. Sans agrees and finds that Red is loyal and he likes it, so he uses every means he knows to subtly seduce Red’s SOUL while Red doesn't know he's being seduced, since he's full of 'getting even.'

...

I have now realised it is kustard season because these are a dragon's favourites. (I'll edit the summaries later so it reflects more of what the plot is.)

Yes. Some of these have 3k words or more. It hurts. I need to write TDAHM 7-8 so I can finally have that scene. Where Red gets dumped, and he's relieved since he doesn't have to deal with Bun's straying mind.

Why is everything kustard? Where is my fontcest? Well, there are also fontcest drafts it's mostly classic, and they're all not related conventionally. Not true brothers, just a white mage and a black mage.

I need... to snap out of it because I'm all over the place, and now I want to nap

[mothgodofchaos]

If you're taking requests maybe do a yandere necromancer mark x a gender neutral reader character, Like the readers a daring adventurer and stuff who wanders into his forest n he becomes absolutely infatuated w em if that's ok (sfw if you need the specification)

Eyes

A fellow Necromancer enjoyer, I appreciate you. You have brilliant taste. And yandere? Is it my birthday?

Necromancer x GN!Reader, TW: yandere, stalking, death mention, fire mention Words: 801

As soon as you step into the Forest of Fear, you sense something is off. More than just the overwhelming dread that settles into the pit of your stomach, but like you’re being watched. The dark trees hang over your head, leaves long fallen and rotted away years ago as the dead trunks and branches block the sky from your view. A shiver runs up your spine as you keep walking, pulling your cloak tighter around your shoulders and chest. 

His eyes follow you as you walk the path, trying not to slip on the wet rocks and sticks that lie underfoot. It had rained recently, encouraging the rare plants that take root here to bloom. He needed a few of them for potion ingredients, coaxing him out quite a ways from home. He doesn’t like people, finds them cumbersome and annoying. The only real benefit they offer is a new guard for his skeleton army. He enjoys perhaps a little too much hearing the rattling of the bones of the newest foolish adventurer sent to kill him. 

But you’re not the average adventurer walking down the path, you look too fragile, lost even. A grin spreads across his face, his claws digging into the bark of the nearest tree as he pushes himself up. His foot falls silent on the forest floor, years of evasion and stealth killings lending themselves well to his intrigue in you. Your hood of your cloak falls, and he stops in his tracks, taken aback by the utter beauty before him. He watches as your eyes dart around, captivating him in them. His heart pounds as he wishes for you to look up at him with those eyes, and only him. 

“Where are you going, your highness~?”

He growls under his breath, the wind howling around you and drowning out his voice before it can even attempt to reach your ears. The air is chilling, forcing you to take cover under a larger tree from the wind attempting to tip you over. Looking around, you realize in a panic that you’re losing light quickly, and you are not one to want to see what roams the forest at night. Your lantern emerges from under your cloak, attempting to use your flint and steel to light it. Sparks prove pointless as the wind snuffs them out immediately, and your anxiety is far too high to try and readjust yourself. With all the dead plants around you, knowing the whole forest could go ablaze if you’re not careful.

His grin droops into a frown as he watches you shake and shiver at the base of the tree, failing to light your lantern. Usually he’d just relish in watching you struggle, but there’s something inside him that needs to see you safe. That needs to make you his. He snaps his fingers, hand blazing into a brilliance of green flame. It catches your eye as he approaches, causing you to scramble backwards up onto your feet. You’re not stupid, you know who the necromancer is, and the damage he can do. Your heart is beating out of your chest as he gets closer, before he kneels down in front of you.

“Hello, my dear. Are you in need of assistance?” He can’t help but be enamored by how wide your eyes are, how the fire reflects in them. All you can manage is a nod, and he chuckles as he rises to his feet.

“Here, I will not harm you. You have my word that you will make it out of this forest alive, and in one piece. Such a face would be wasted on a skeleton grunt. No, you will sit with me in my main chamber.”

Your hand is taken in his, and while everything in your is telling you to run, you know better than to fight him and run off into the dark. He leads you at your own pace, making sure that you’re alright as he looks you up and down, taking in your form. You don’t quite realize what you have gotten yourself into, but at least you’re alive for now. And for a man that stays out in the middle of nowhere for centuries, he is quite the conversationalist. His heart grins sinisterly as you start to relax around him, getting comfortable with him. The way that your eyes twinkle when you laugh, makes his hardened heart melt, and he so desperately wants to hold onto that feeling.  “Careful, my dear. Can’t let you get hurt now. Not that I’m here now.”

He lifts you up to prevent another tripping, keeping his grip on you firm but affectionate. He has found a perfect present for him in the woods, and he is not letting you go now that he’s found you.