#sorry y'all the horror universes demand their pint of blood

[skeletonsfortea]

I was going through some of your older posts to cure my boredom, and remembered you said Edge and Red would be mother hens with VBPS Reader if UnderFell started turning into Horrorfell. Got any blurbo on that for us readers >u<

Aighty then but I think I should give some context first XD

So, if VBPS Y/N was to go with them they would arrive before Frisk ever came to Ebott. Then, they would have to go through the neutral route (and however many resets came before). Following that, Undyne would take the throne. Of course Papyrus and Sans would be hopeful that their friends wouldn't make the same mistakes and would try to help fix the core when it started to shut down.

And this scene comes...

"I don't know what we're supposed to do," Red admits, rubbing his face, "all of the numbers work, it should be producing just fine, but..." he sighs, slumping, his head hitting the table, "...it's just...not." You reach over, eyebrows furrowing, to rub his back, and his head turns so he can look at you, a bit of warmth ghosting his features.

"How are you feeling about this?" Edge asks, drawing your attention. His eye sockets are narrowed. He would look angry, if you didn't know him well enough to know he's worried.

"I'm fine," you lie, and Edge scoffs. Red just turns his face back to the table.

"We're not going to let anything happen to you," Red says.

"I know," you insist, wishing you sounded more convincing, "I'm not worried about that." That part is true, at least. Mostly. You're not so worried about the other monsters. You're not even worried about Edge. As messed up as it is, you're worried about Red. You don't know what broke Sans. You don't know if Red will fall down the same hole, despite how much you'd like to believe he won't.

"We're going to work this out." Edge assures you with firm confidence. "Before things get bad."

...

But as weeks go by, you find that you don't believe him.

Edge checks on you constantly, and not always subtly. He pops his head into the room you're in and asks random questions that seem completely irrelevant. Sometimes he'll even offer to cuddle- something that's pretty rare coming from him.

Red isn't quite as obvious about it. He works pretty much twenty-four-seven trying to figure out the core, and you've had to drag him to his bed some nights just to get him to sleep. He always seems to be just a room away when he isn't working.

Anytime you go out- although you go out without them rarely anyway- they're basically attached to your hip.

Honestly, you half expect them to start calling family meetings to talk about feelings at this point. Which is...a little too far.

So, when at dinner, Red tries to hand of his leftovers to you- claiming to not be hungry- although his act is convincing- you have to put it to a stop.

They both freeze when you burst into laughter, exchanging looks with each other.

"Alright," you say, "that's it!" You prop your elbows up on the table and fix them with a look. "I am fucking fine. I'm not made of glass, so stop treating me like it!"

"Sweetheart-"

"Seriously! I'm not teetering on the edge, ok? I'm not going to flip a switch and treat you guys like I did Rust and Vulture, ok? You guys need to worry about yourselves!"

"We don't think you're going to snap." Edge says.

"But you're treating me like I could just regress at any moment!"

"That's not it," Red insists.

"Then-" you begin, only to stop when Edge grabs your arm.

"Listen. You've already proved you can survive what the world has to throw at you," he says. "We just...we..."

"That doesn't mean you deserve to go through it again," Red says, "we just don't want you to think that this will ever be the way your universe was."

"But it might be." You say softly, looking at the table.

"No, it won't." Edge says.

"You don't know that."

"We do," Red says, "sure, we can't predict how things will turn out. But you're family now. Fuck fate, fuck probability. Fuck all of it. We're not going to hurt you. Besides. There were humans that fell before you in their universe. That means some have to fall soon enough."

"Great. More dead people." You mutter bitterly.

"...just one."

"Glad we're numbering them instead of referring to them as people," you hiss. Edge's hand draws away, and you're positive you've hurt him.

"Some things require sacrifice." He says. "That doesn't mean we like it."

You shut your eyes and sigh. "I know. I'm sorry."

Dinner is put away in silence.