#it stands above my Undertale shrine..
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iizubuzu · 7 months ago
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BIG BETRAYAL!
my ko-fi !!
sketch below :D
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i love this song and art sm
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sincognito · 6 years ago
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And So The Dragons Fell From Grace | Chapter 2.
Pairing: Spicyhoney (Mapleblossom and papgore will be later).
Universe: Undertale, Underfell, Underswap, Swapfell (both versions).
Warnings: Slavery, Speciesism, Kidnapping, other chapters will be tagged for other content.
Overview: Rus is mindlessly beginning to settle in with his new routine, slowly beginning to forget any plans of escape he may have had. However, eventually, his past will catch up to him.
A/N: Second chapter of the fic, there’s a little jump from the last chapter to this one, but it’s nothing major :3
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Read on AO3: HERE
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The days that followed seemed to progress at an agonisingly slow pace. The dragon, Edge, would leave at dawn before Rus woke to begin his patrol of his territory, scouting out the nearby mountain ranges for any trace of intruders, before returning just before midday. More often than not the skeletal reptile would return with a fresh catch – usually wild elk or the occasional sheep or cow – that he would quickly devour, leaving not a scrap for Rus. The skeleton knew better than to disturb a dragon while feeding.
After his meal, Edge would return to his pile of gold, curling up in it with a pleasant hum as his body converted the newly eaten flesh into usable magic to fuel his soul. Rus had quickly learnt that the dragon was not one for simply lazing about, and while he lay still to digest, he was constantly filling the air with conversation, albeit largely one sided. His claws would tap at the floor with poorly veiled restlessness as he eagerly awaited his chance to move around again. And move he could.
One afternoon Rus had walked to the opening of the dragon’s lair and had been rewarded with the stunning sight of Edge as he effortlessly spiralled up beyond the clouds, before abruptly shifting direction and allowing his massive body to plummet down towards the ground, halting his dissent just in time for him to gracefully switch to a swift glide, swooping down low over the trees. It was in that moment that Rus felt his hope of escape begin to slip further away.
It was on a particularly warm evening that Rus had finally decided to explore the cave in greater detail. With most of the vast cavern lit only by the small torch he clutched firmly in his fragile hands, he cautiously began to examine all of the intricate carvings of mighty dragons on the walls and pillars that seemed to hold up the entire ceiling above them. As he slowly moved, he came to realise that the dragon depicted in all of the art was in fact the same one.
While the drawings offered only little information about it, Rus found his mind wandering – what colour had its beautiful scales been? Did they flicker in the light like the gems it horded? – if one thing was for certain, it was that whoever the dragon had been, it was greatly adored by the humans of the valley. There were images of the dragon keeping their land safe from invaders and offering its service to all who needed it, acting as a benevolent protector and friend.  
The clacking of bone against stone drew Rus’ attention and he glanced away from the carved walls to watch as Edge approached, his head low as if trying not to frighten off the monster. Not that he had anywhere to run anyway.
“What are you doing?” the dragon rumbled, his eyes narrowing slightly, “I thought you were going to retire for the evening.” Originally Rus had stated that he would go to bed early but had perhaps been too absorbed by his imagination, thinking up fanciful scenes of humans and monsters living at peace with dragons. It was a foolish, naïve idea, but weren’t all stories about love and happy endings fabricated by the mind of a hopeful child?
“I was just looking at the carvings,” he explained, motioning to the pillar beside him with the torch, “but I can head off to bed if you would prefer, master.”
The dragon hummed to itself for a moment, its eyes scanning over the art as a distant look began to take over his face, “They loved their dragon,” Edge finally breathed, his eyes seeming to lose their normal focus, “They built him shrines and would provide him an offering at the beginning of every spring in thanks.”
“How do you know?” He knew it was improper for him to question a dragon without invitation, but Edge either didn’t seem to notice or didn’t mind the inquiry.
“I remember it.” He said simply with a soft puff of smoke, turning away to signal the end of their conversation. The answer had done nothing but further his confusion and for a moment Rus simply stood staring dumbly, even after the dragon had returned to its pile of treasure to prepare for his inevitable slumber.
Realising he was making an even larger fool of himself the longer he continued to watch, he quickly made his way towards his own sleeping quarters. He had a small bed, a slightly worn pillow and a small pile of plush blankets to pick from. It was a rather humble set-up, but it was far superior than sleeping on the floor. While it wasn’t exactly a closed off room, he still received a pleasant amount of privacy from the way his sleeping area was dug deep into the side of one of the cave’s walls.
Taking a moment to release some of the tension in his back with a few cracks, Rus swiftly moved to removing his hoodie, noting with a slight frown that it was due to be washed. He was just about to begin taking off his shorts and was more than a little startled when a large head appeared at the entrance to his room causing him to jerk slightly.
Upon noticing what Rus was doing Edge made a sound unbefitting of his fearsome appearance, immediately aborting whatever he had planned and retreating back around the corner once more. The sound of valuables clinking was enough of a signal that the dragon had gone back to his horde, obviously deciding against speaking to Rus again.
It hadn’t really registered with Rus that the dragon wasn’t exactly a real dragon but a monster in possession of a dragon’s soul until that point. He could feel his skull warming slightly as he considered Edge’s reaction as the reaction of another person, another skeleton just like him. He wasn’t entirely sure how to feel about it but decided that standing half naked in his room wasn’t going to help him decipher his emotions.
The following morning Edge was acting completely normal – leaving early on patrol, taking some time to track down a meal and then sleeping it off – his mind no longer lingered on the concerns he had held the evening just passed and he was quick to return to routine. While Rus was by no means the cleanest monster out there, he had quickly learnt that if his cleaning skills were not up to par he would be rather harshly reprimanded; the scars that lined his back were a testament to that. He had yet to see Edge’s true ire and if he could he would try his utmost to keep it that way.
His morning was spent sweeping out all of the leaves and dust that had blown into the dragon’s cave during the night – a surprising amount of work due to how enormous the cave was – and he was only just finishing up when Edge had returned from his morning meal. Rus shivered slightly as he watched the fat drops of crimson drip from the dragon’s maw, a tongue snaking its way from his mouth to lick away the final remainder of whatever it was he had hunted down.
With a soft sigh Edge stretched out his joints like some sort of overgrown cat, his chest vibrating slightly as he prepared to sleep off his breakfast as normal. His eyes scanned the cave, seeming to roll over each and every one of the dragon’s possessions in turn, including Rus himself. Once satisfied that nothing was out of place, he happily padded over to his usual napping place.
Before Edge could completely settle in to sleep Rus finally managed to find his voice, “I-I need to clean some of my clothes down by the stream,” he began, pausing slightly when the dragon narrowed his eyes on him suspiciously, “With your permission, of course, master.”
Edge tilted his head to the side briefly in what seemed to be contemplation before growling slightly, “Fine. But don’t even consider running away,” he hissed, his tail thrashing in obvious agitation, knocking a large antique wardrobe over. Dragons hated letting their possessions out of their sight, and for Rus to leave Edge’s den while he slept? It was no wonder the reptile was anxious.
Rus gave a slightly awkward bow, “I wouldn’t dream of it, your eternal eminence.” The flattery seemed to at least calm the dragon, even if only slightly, as he merely waved for the smaller skeleton to leave in feigned disinterest. Unfortunately, the regal effect was ruined by the way he seemed to preen at the compliment.
He was able to hold in a snicker until he was finally outside the cave, it was rather entertaining to watch how easy dragons were to please. They were by no means dull, simple creatures, but it was almost ridiculously easy to play into their good graces with a few sweet words and admiring looks from afar. Perhaps Edge just wanted someone to tell him he looked handsome every morning. Thinking back on it, he wouldn’t exactly put it past the dragon to do such a thing.
The woodland air was clean and crisp, the scent of fresh pine heavy in the air. The smell filled Rus’ nose with a familiarity that had his heart aching and his mind wandering to a simpler, kinder time when everyone was safe. The sun above shone strong, and yet, it almost seemed that underground the world had been brighter.
Rus could see the nearby village in the distance at the base of the mountain. A kindly old lady had allowed him to stay in her stable one evening, even going as far as to bring him breakfast when he woke and a mug of sweet tea to wash it all down before he left to continue his journey. He wondered if he would ever be able to repay her kindness.
It was no secret that humans hated monsters, they always had and likely always would if those deemed ‘fell’ monsters had their way. Most humans would have turned Rus away or simply slammed the door in his face if he’d asked for somewhere to spend the night. When he wasn’t out trekking through the wilderness he usually found himself huddled up on a cold street corner, hoping that no one would pay him any mind or pass him off as just a poor beggar.
It was quiet as Rus began to walk down the mountainside toward where he had been told there was a small stream he could use to wash his clothes and himself. He had been completely lost in his thoughts, but he slowly began to realise just how quiet the woods were. There were no sounds drifting up from the usually busy village below and not a bird to be seen in any of the trees.
At the eeriness of the forest he slowed his movements, contemplating returning to the cave and cleaning later on. There were very few things that could scare away all the animals of a forest, and Rus wasn’t eager to encounter any of them.
There was a loud snap as a nearby branch was torn from a tree and Rus found himself running before he had even registered where the sound had come from. Much to his dismay, running back uphill was a far more tedious task than it had been to leisurely stroll down and he found that no matter how quickly he tried to sprint away from whatever dangerous creatures lurked in the woods he made no significant ground.
It shouldn’t have been a surprise when something snatched Rus’ legs out from underneath him, causing him to fall face first into the hard ground. He gave a weak groan, his hand seeking out the front of his skull to clutch his face as it seemed to pulse with pain. He felt something warm and wet trickling onto his phalanges and pulled his hand away from his face to see it stained red with marrow. It seemed that the rocky ground was a little sturdier than his face.
A laugh sounded from behind him and Rus felt his blood run cold, “You seriously thought you could get away from us?” It chortled in amusement, a clawed paw easily grasping his legs to prevent any attempt at escape. Even if he had wanted to, Rus was unable to even consider trying to get away, not with the way his head seemed to be spinning, red liquid dripping down into his sockets from his forehead and only serving to disorientate him further.
He fell limp against the ground, his mind growing fuzzy and drowning out whatever it was his attacker was saying. He could hear roaring and there suddenly seemed to be a lot of fire everywhere, but Rus didn’t mind, even if it was a little warm. Why was Edge looking at him? When did he get there? It likely didn’t matter, Rus was tired, his sockets growing heavy. Edge seemed to be saying something but Rus ignored him, he’d ask him what he was trying to say when he woke up.
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