us without me — hinata s.
synopsis :: it's been 4 months since you and shoyo broke up. of course, being the kind person that he is, you ended up still being friends. it just doesn't feel right, having this kind of relationship with him now. his new significant other? that should be you.
wc :: 1.5k
hinata shoyo x gn!reader(?) (2nd person)
cw//notes :: yeah idk if this counts as x reader cause spoiler yall do NOT get together... anyway,, this is my first solid angst fic be kind please and thank u,, angst angst angst,, crying,, occasional cursing,, based off of us without me by grentperez
"hey..." the voice fades out, "... good?" the voice tunes its way in and out of your hearing.
"...hey, you're zoning out, are you okay?"
tears are welled up in your eyes as you snap your head upwards to see two concerned faces looking back at you. shoyo's bright eyes are narrowed as his brows furrow at you. he's worried. the face next to his mirrors his own, looking at you with concern.
"you look out of it. do you wanna use the restroom?" they ask, looking at you tentatively. your eyes drift downwards to their hand, which rests intertwined with shoyo's on the table. right. they're with him now. you offer a hesitant nod, pushing your chair away from the dining table and standing up.
shoyo watches as you and his partner walk off to the restroom. he doesn't know what's going on, and frankly, he's not sure he would fully get it if it was explained to him. in his mind, it had already been 4 months; surely that meant you were completely over him. he doesn't have anything but kindness and platonic love for you— it just wasn't working out, the japan and brazil thing. it was hard to make the time difference work. and the distance.
meanwhile, in the restroom, you start crying. shoyo's partner— hell, you can't even remember their name— panics as you start to cry, frantically trying to comfort you. in frustration, you let out a huff.
"look, i'm fine. you don't need to hang around me and comfort me right now, thanks," you choke out. you gesture to the door of the restroom. maybe you're being mean, but honestly, you can't be bothered to consider that right now. what you would give to be them. for your relationship with shoyo to have never changed. the amount is insurmountable.
they nod slightly, gently patting your shoulder. "sorry, i hope you feel better." with those last words muttered, they exit the restroom, leaving you alone. all the memories have come rushing back to you.
2 years ago.
"i'm home!" his voice echoes through the apartment. he looks past the entryway, seeing you laying on the couch and watching tv. he kicks off his shoes and joins you on the couch.
1 year ago.
"good morning," he says, his voice still raspy from sleep. his arms find their way around your waist as you stand in front of the stove, making pancakes.
"morning," you reply, smiling at how evident his contentment is in his tone of voice. "you slept late."
he hums. "...yeah, but i'm up now." he laughs softly, lightly squeezing your waist as he hugs you tighter. "let's eat!"
you agree, turning around and handing him a plate of pancakes. "yep, let's go!"
...and then after that,
4 months ago.
"brazil?" you echo him.
he nods excitedly.
"but what about us..?" you ask, looking at him in confusion.
he freezes for a moment, his smile faltering.
"well..." he starts, "i don't know if we would work out if we tried to stay together."
did he really think that your love for him was that shallow? you would go to the ends of the earth for shoyo. you loved him deeply. distance and time zones wouldn't stop you from doing so.
"...you don't even want to try?" your voice breaks, tears welling up in your eyes. "we can make it through this, sho, i know we can," you continue, your voice shaky as you sniffle.
he frowns, taking a step towards you and wiping the tears off of your face with the sleeve of his hoodie. "hey. i just don't want you to feel neglected. we can still be friends... you know i love you, right?"
you pull away from him, quietly nodding. it hurts, knowing that he's doing this because he loves you. what could you even say in response to all of that? you'll always love him, he's your best friend and boyfriend.
"yeah," you clear your throat, "let's stay friends. when you're in brazil, make sure you call me and tell me what it's like, okay?" you say, forcing a smile onto your face. "i'll help you pack for the flight."
fuck.
why did you have to remember all of this now? when you're visiting brazil to see shoyo? you're out to dinner with him and his partner— now you remember, their name is eden. even their name is pretty. you can understand why shoyo would like them. they have the aura of the sun— attractive, pretty, kind. what was left to be desired? they looked so good together. they complimented one another perfectly.
was that what you guys looked like?
with a look in the mirror and a quick wiping of your face, you head out of the bathroom. you make your way back to the table, feeling two pairs of eyes on you as you sit back down. you place down a couple bills to pay for your food and then gather your things, getting back up. you put your bag over your shoulder and step to the side of the table.
"sorry, i'm not feeling well. i hope you guys enjoy the rest of dinner. i'm gonna head back to my hotel, if that's okay," you mumble, waving as you walk off to your car.
"wait, wait, are you okay?" shoyo asks, looking at you and frowning.
you smile slightly. "yeah, i'm fine, sho. don't worry. i'm okay."
with that, you leave the restaurant, speeding back to your hotel. the music in your car blares as you whiz past the traffic going in the other direction. you want to go back home, but you're stuck here for two more days.
two more days of this. shit.
you enter the hotel, go up to your floor via the elevator, and go straight to your room. the keycard makes the scanner on your door beep, and the room unlocks. entering the room, you toss your bag onto the small desk by your bed and fall face first onto the mattress. a loud groan can be heard as you lay motionless on top of the comforter.
the room feels much too quiet without shoyo there. there's no casual chatter of his day, no laughter, no humming. it's dead silent. maybe you made the wrong decision, going back to the hotel to be alone.
the silence is broken by the buzz of your phone: a message from shoyo. it reads hey, are you feeling better now? you left so suddenly :( eden and i are worried about you
you don't bother opening the message, tossing your phone across the room and burying your face back into the bed. oh, to be eden.
shoyo fell hard and fast for them. you would know, since you were the first person he told. their aura was captivating. they were sweet to everyone they met. and they were so, so pretty. it felt unfair, having to see them and shoyo be so happy together while you were still stuck in the past.
you didn't get it. why would he say you could still be friends? he didn't need you, and this is only keeping you from moving on. you love him, but god was this hard.
as you spiral into these thoughts, tears flow. why did you go to brazil?
even though you wanted to be in eden's position, it was next to impossible to imagine it. they looked so good with him.
your phone, laying on the other side of the hotel room, rings. sliding off the bed and grabbing it, you lay on the floor and answer the phone, only to hear shoyo's voice come over the line.
"hey, you weren't replying to my messages. i just wanted to make sure you're okay. are you sick?" he asks quickly, his voice laced with concern for you.
you probably should've checked who was calling before picking up, damn it. you let out a soft sigh and reply, "yeah, sorry, sho. i'm fine, thanks for checking on me. i think i may fly home early, though."
"wait what? why?" you can practically feel him frowning through the phone.
"cause... i don't know. i'm feeling homesick," you lie.
"oh," he remarks, his tone sad, "well i hope you have a safe trip back then." he follows this sentence with an old nickname he had for you, making you pause. the memories rush back again, making your eyes brim with tears.
"...thanks, sho. i'll see you some other time."
with that, you end the phone call and buy tickets back home. within 30 minutes, you're all packed and ready to leave for the airport. you drive yourself there, letting the music blast through your car on the way.
getting through security is shockingly quick, and none of your bags get flagged for inspection. your gate was an easy walk, the terminal being right next to security. you were of the first group to get called onto the plane, too. this was a nice change of pace.
as you sit on the plane, you look out the window at the ground below. you haven't taken off yet. coming to brazil definitely wasn't a good idea, but it was an experience for you... which is good, you guess. maybe one day, you'll be content with only having a friendship with shoyo. for now, though, you needed distance to get over your feelings for him. at least the romantic ones, anyway.
notes ::
⟡ if you're reading this, you are so gorgeous!! don't compare yourself to other people like i wrote for the purpose of this work
⟡ i actually enjoyed writing this it was pretty relaxing for me :)
⟡ tried my best but idk if im the best at writing angst...
⟡ if you wanna read more of my work, check out my masterlist <3
🏷️ :: @chososcamgirl ,, @anqelfries ,, @cheriisae ,, @bakery-anon + @bokukos <3
© akaakeis 2024 all rights reserved. please do not repost, edit, or translate my works on any platform.
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You're at the Party
“so you brought mass murderers to my place without warning me beforehand?” Cross said.
“Haha, nice.”
“don't humor them, chara.”
Blue wrung his hands together, opening his mouth to explain only for Ink to cut in.
“Listen, these guys aren't gonna cause any trouble. Besides, I thought this was a place where people could start over.” Ink crossed his arms.
“Two of them killed everyone in their universe? Hm, a Sans killing a bunch of people…Where have I heard that before?” XChara nudged Cross’s arm.
“you know that isn’t the problem here.”
Everyone gave Cross a look as if he was the one that was being unreasonable here.
Cross sighed, “fine, they can stay. but they need to pass a test first.”
Blue narrowed his eyes skeptically. “What kind of test?”
“well, i guess it's more of a favor.”
“Is this what I think it is? You're not sending them there.”
Cross waved away his concern. “it’ll be fine,” he insisted.
“What are we talking about?” Ink questioned.
Blue leaned close to Ink. “He’s totally planning to use them to retrieve his friend.”
“Oh! Hah. Ahahahahaha!” Ink giggled like he told him a joke. His eyelights reflected his amusement as he stared at Cross. “So we’re at this part now, huh?”
Cross looked confused while Blue huffed at his words and XChara looked bored.
Ink clapped his hands together. “Well then~! Have fun with that~!” he said cheerfully.
“I'm sure those tildes have no malice behind it,” Blue deadpanned.
“Oh, when have my tildes ever held malice~?”
Blue opted for putting his hands on his waist rather than gracing that with a reply.
“Anyway, I gotta bounce! I’ll see y’all later. Don't have too much fun without me~!” He painted a hole in the ground and hopped into it while waving goodbye.
“Eugh, he's like a kid that just learned about emoticons,” XChara said.
“you can't even see the tildes,” Cross pointed out.
XChara rolled their eyes. “I don't have to. I can hear it in his voice.”
“Never mind that. Cross, you can't send them there! I’ve already been making a careful plan. To just toss it out the window and replace it with an improvised one isn't a good idea!”
He rolled his eyelights and crossed his arms. “It doesn't need to work, anyway. I don't expect it to.”
Blue’s sockets widened as he gasped. “So you're just,” he gestured wildly, “sending them off to their deaths? Where's your compassion?”
“Where was their compassion when they hurt all those monsters?”
Blue narrowed his eye sockets. “Where's your compassion?” he repeated in a duller tone.
“Don't you have a Mettaton to serve? This isn't your business.” he snapped back.
Blue threw his hands up, “Wow! Sheesh. Fine. Go have fun torturing the prisoners of war.” He stormed off with a frown.
XChara and Cross watched as he walked in a direction that definitely led to nowhere rather than towards the town.
“He has a point,” XChara stated.
“Awful navigation skills is what he has,” Cross spat. He noticed XChara’s unamused face and did a double take. “Do you actually agree with him?”
“Huh! Do I agree with him that you have no right to judge these morally messed up monsters and that sending them to that freak’s place as punishment is completely hypocritical of you?” They stroked their chin and pretended to think about it hard. “Yes, Mr. ‘the reason why our world has become a hotspot for people who messed up like you!’”
“You don't care about them at all. You're just saying that to spite me.”
“I am, thanks for noticing,” they deadpanned.
Cross brought a hand to his face and sighed.
Killer awoke. He wasn't refreshed in the slightest and he nearly panicked over waking up in unfamiliar surroundings if it wasn't for Dust smacking him on the head.
No wait, he was called Dusk now. He even came up with that name for him.
Sheesh, the sudden change is gonna be hard to get used to.
Right. New chapter of his life. Again. Again again, actually.
Ironically, he was starting to get sick of new experiences.
This wasn't a bad change, really. In fact, it was a clear upgrade. Well, that's what he thought back when Nightmare first found him too, so.
He was waiting for the catch. He was ready this time.
There was a knock on the door.
Both of them had the knee-jerk reaction of summoning a blaster angled at the door but then the rational part of their minds took over and they scrambled out of bed to hold their blasters' mouths shut.
“good morning to you guys too,” said the voice behind the door.
They managed to desummon their blasters once they recognized that it was, in fact, Horror that knocked.
There was unmistakable joy on Killer’s face. He didn't say it, but he was convinced Horror was going to avoid them since they got settled in.
He skipped over to the door like a gleeful idiot and opened the door.
Killer was surprised by his getup. It was the first time he's seen him in different clothing. If it wasn't for the red eye in his socket he wouldn't have recognized him.
The first thing he noticed was the cap he was wearing. It was a generic white cap that covered the hole in his head. Other than that, his outfit was the same as any other normal Sans, sans the signature hoodie. He also looked a lot less tired.
“‘sup, h—sans. ‘sup sans,” Killer said, barely catching himself. He couldn't help but still refer to him as “Horror” in his mind, since from the day they met that's what he called him and known him as. But those names were nothing but brands that Nightmare put on him and Dusk. They weren't names that they chose for themselves.
“hey,” he replied with a small wave, mostly aimed at Dusk to acknowledge his presence even though he hadn't approached the door yet. “so…” he trailed off, unsure.
So.
They were in unfamiliar territory now. After a whole year of living with Nightmare, they formed somewhat of a schedule. A loose one, but a schedule nonetheless—mainly built off of the way Nightmare acted.
With that thrown out the window, every step they took was unfamiliar. Potentially dangerous. Ironic, considering they were in a safer area now. At least they assumed so.
They hoped so.
They would normally eat breakfast at this time, probably. They weren't ever exactly sure what time it was, but that's how it's been their whole life. It felt like it was around that time, at least.
“my bro said there's a bakery here.” Another pause. Okay, he didn't have to make this that awkward. “you two wanna scope the place out with me?”
Killer’s smile perked up at the edges. “hate to say it, that sounded like you just asked us out on a date.”
“‘k, forget i asked.” He made the move to shut the door.
“nah, i’m joking! we’ll go—” he whipped his head to Dusk for verification, who gave him a thumbs up. “—yeah, let's go.”
So they got out of the hotel room. The lobby had a few people, unlike last time.
None of the three really acknowledged anyone there and no one acknowledged them, until some Monster Kid said a mere hello that made them all awkwardly respond; either with a curt head nod, wave, or quiet “hi” back.
Boy, they weren't ready to be perceived by anyone else. How the hell were they going to handle entering a cafe, let alone going outside? Well, Sans managed, so.
Sans was probably the most stable of the three, let's be real. He was the only one who had contact with other people before Nightmare came to them. When it comes to interaction, Killer and Dusk have done nothing but literally talk to themselves for who knows how long.
The second Sans started to open the door, Killer protested, “actually. could you just grab me something instead? i’ll stay in the room.” When he turned to retreat, Dusk grabbed him by the arm.
Dusk gave him a look that spelled “really, coward?”
“i don't think i’m ready, okay? sue me,” he said. He could already feel eyes on him. The stares gnawed away at his bones, trying to eat him alive.
They knew what he wanted to do.
Dusk sighed, letting go of his arm. “we can't go,” he signed to Sans.
“right…” he sounded disappointed—no that was pity in his voice. He probably didn’t even expect the two to agree in the first place. “anything specific you want?”
“nothin’ with chocolate.”
Dusk shook his head.
“gotcha. i’ll be back in a bit,” he said.
Dusk and Killer watched as he sauntered off to be a normal monster that was a part of society. Then they walked at a breakneck pace back to their room.
Once they were back in the safety of their private room, they collapsed on their beds.
Killer, face buried against his pillow, groaned in frustration. “i hate this. we're safe now and i can't even go outside. do you feel it too, dusk? that tug on your soul?”
He might kill someone if he went outside. It was highly likely.
Of course it wouldn't be that easy to return to a normal life—of course his high LOVE would haunt him. He was too tired yesterday to be bothered by it, but now, any other monster he saw that wasn't Dusk or Sans had his soul screaming for more exp.
“i’m trying to ignore it,” Dusk mumbled.
He laughed. That's not going to work. That is not going to work and they both know it.
That’s.
That's not going to work.
“it was—it was better when we were stuck with Nightmare. we wouldn't be able to—”
“It wasn’t better,” Dusk interrupted.
“—we’re going to kill someone. we're going to kill someone and it's going to snowball and it'll—hah—it'll be like a snowball of dust!”
He was choking now, on the rotten determination coming out of his skull.
“killer.”
That's what he was, wasn't he? A killer.
“killer!”
That's all he was.
“Killer.”
Oh, someone was holding him by the shoulders. Wow, everything was blurry and stained black. No, that was just the liquid in his sockets. He tilted his head down, letting it flow out until he could see better.
Oh, it was Dusk. Right.
He shuddered out a breath. He realized all his senses had turned off for the past few seconds. When the hell did he get on the floor?
His eyelights finally focused enough to stare back at Dusk. He didn't like the worried look he had on his face. He cleared his throat, trying to play it off, but all that did was make him hack out more rotten determination.
“well…” the sentence died on his teeth the second he started. “i want to go back to sleep,” he settled on saying.
Dusk brought him into a stilted not-quite-a-hug, where he brought him closer and draped his skull over his shoulder.
They just. Stayed there. For a bit.
“another episode…i’m starting a daily streak, really.” Any humor he thought that statement would have was completely absent. God, how fucking pathetic was he? Surely Dusk was struggling with his LOVE just as much as he was but he didn’t fuss about it. He shouldn’t need Dusk’s comfort and Dusk shouldn’t need to comfort him. He was so selfish. So needy.
Killer willed himself to move away from Dusk to lay back down on his bed.
The room was quiet until someone knocked on the door again.
Dusk opted to answer the door since Killer wasn't budging.
Fortunately it was Sans who was at the door but unfortunately, he wasn't alone. Behind him was another skeleton he hadn't seen before.
He wore monochromatic clothing and there were large x’s on his sleeves and boots. He looked a lot younger than all of them. He must've been in his 20’s. His eyelights were a lot bigger than the average sans, with a slitted pupil reminiscent of a cat’s.
Despite the youthful look, one glance was enough to tell Dusk that he had a lot of LOVE too. It wasn’t nearly as much as he or Killer had, but it was more than the amount Sans had.
Dusk glared at the stranger as if he personally wronged him.
Sans didn’t look too happy either with the death grip he had on the bag containing their breakfast.
“hey,” Sans said. He walked in as if everything was fine and normal.
The stranger also tried walking in as if everything was fine and normal.
A wall of bones rose in front of him to block his path.
Killer sat up on the bed, “nope. not dealing with unwelcome company now, thank you.”
The stranger cleared his throat, straightening his posture. “well, i’m actually the organizer of this place. the name’s cross. i’m sure ink told you three about me.”
“i’ve never heard of you in my life,” Killer said.
It was painfully clear that Cross was already annoyed by Killer, despite his attempts to keep his face neutral. “i’ll just get to the point—”
“he’s gonna test us. if we pass, we can stay. if we don’t, we’re getting kicked out,” Sans said. He opened the bag of food and grabbed a pastry for himself before handing it over to Dusk.
Dusk hesitated as he grabbed the bag. He quickly grabbed the first pastry he laid his hand on and turned to Killer.
“we’re getting kicked out?” Killer repeated.
“only if you don’t pass the test,” Cross emphasized.
Killer stood up as the wall of bones went away. He shambled over to him with a misleadingly calm expression. He leaned close to Cross’s head, keeping his hands by his sides. “what’s the test?”
Cross stood his ground, keeping his eyes locked on Killer as if he would attack him if he merely glanced away. “a rescue mission,” he answered with a steady voice despite the tension.
“the blue guy said you weren’t going to torture us,” Killer spat.
“it’s not torture. i have a plan. it should be simple,” Cross insisted.
He narrowed his eye sockets. “so why are you using us as fodder?”
“it’s a test.”
Sans snagged the bag from Dusk and shoved it over to Killer. “no point in complainin’, just roll with it.”
Killer pushed the bag aside. “why are you being so compliant? he’s going to send us to our deaths!”
“because we don’t have a choice,” he sighed. “besides, we’ve gone through hell and back, what’s one more trial?”
Killer caved in and grabbed the bag to fish out a pastry for himself. He took a hefty bite from it specifically to talk with his mouth full, “you gonna leave us alone after we complete this ‘rescue mission’?”
“yeah, just this one thing and you’ll all prove that i can trust you to stay here.”
Killer winced at the word “trust”. He quickly scarfed the rest of the pastry down. Now that he thought about it, he couldn’t really blame Cross for putting them through a trial considering that they’re all murderers. Well, he didn’t think Sans should be judged to the same extent as them. He needed to kill all those humans in order to survive.
“why does sans need to go too? his friends and family have already been staying here,” he asked.
Cross looked surprised by his question. Fucker probably didn’t expect him to be considerate. “the plan’s easier with three people, and all three of you worked with nightmare.”
“worked!?” Killer shoved the bag towards Sans and grabbed Cross by his shirt. “we didn’t work with that bastard. he KIDNAPPED us! if you think for one second that we associated with him? oh you got it entirely wrong, asshole! do you think we had fun being his fucking toys?” he snapped.
“killer, let go of him,” Sans said.
“y’know what? fine. i’ll do your stupid test. nothing you put me through will be worse than what he did to us,” he snarled before pushing him away.
Cross fixed the wrinkles Killer made on his clothes. His nonchalant behavior pissed Killer off even more.
He was lucky he actually listened to Sans.
“sorry, i wasn’t aware of that,” he said quietly.
Killer calmed down only slightly at the apology. He crossed his arms and scoffed, “you better be.”
Cross waited for them to finish eating breakfast before he went over the plan.
As he talked more, the three were even less psyched about doing this.
They were going to disguise themselves and then enter the place through a portal made by Ink. The first part of the plan was finding the right monster. Cross handed them an image for reference. They collectively sighed when they saw it was yet another Sans. If he wasn't wearing the same outfit it would be hard to find him, that's not to mention that Cross said the place they were infiltrating was a packed warehouse.
The second part of the plan was actually leaving the place. Which was supposedly the easier part of the plan because Ink will arrive and make another portal once they find the monster.
All in all, this just sounded like some dumb hidden object game rather than a rescue mission.
Ink arrived at the room shortly after Cross finished explaining. He came in holding a pile of clothes, their disguises.
Said clothes were all campy and flashy.
“in what world,” Sans held up a sequin jacket that had colors that could blind hawks, “are these disguises?”
“Well you're going to a party! A rave, specifically,” Ink explained.
Killer snatched a red leather jacket and bell bottom jeans from the pile. “all of these shirts suck, i’m gonna change.” He went over to the bathroom with the articles in hand.
“Oh yeah!” Ink snapped his hand. He reached into the pockets of his pants and took out three pairs of sunglasses, each were different shapes. “Almost forgot the most important part.”
“glasses,” Sans remarked.
Dusk and Sans exchanged glances with each other.
“it's really bright there,” Cross explained.
“in a warehouse?”
“trust me, the strobe lights could probably blind you otherwise.”
Sans narrowed his sockets.
Killer finished changing and waltzed out of the bathroom, flaunting his gaudy outfit.
“no shirt?” Sans remarked.
“i said they all suck.”
“surely you could just wear the shirt you already had on.”
“actually,” Cross butted in, “after you three get back we’re burning those clothes immediately. so probably don't wear anything that's actually yours.”
“and why are you doing that?”
“Cooties,” Ink deadpanned.
Cross frowned at him.
“Anyways, take a pair. Whatever you do, do not take them off.” Ink held out the shades with a wink.
Killer opted for the triangular ones while Dusk grabbed the rectangular ones and Sans got the circular ones.
Then Dusk and Sans grabbed whatever clothing, tossing any attempts to make a cohesive outfit out the window, and took turns changing in the bathroom.
Finally, Cross looked over the three, determining if their disguises were good to go. Dusk and Sans’s fits were horrible. That neon fluffy bucket hat that Sans wore was definitely not comfortable. At least Killer had a cohesive outfit.
He spent a second longer looking at Killer's sunglasses. He leaned close to Ink. “it doesn't cover his sockets fully,” he whispered.
“It’ll be fiiine,” Ink assured. He clasped his hands together. “Okay! You're all ready to go. Don't forget, you're looking for Epic, the most notable feature is the scar on his eye socket. Keep your distance from other partygoers and do not take off those shades.” His scarf swept at the floor underneath the three, creating holes that lead to their destination.
The three could barely see Ink waving goodbye as they fell.
The landing wasn't bad, all of them landed on their feet just fine, but the change in atmosphere gave them whiplash. While it was dark as night, strobe lights flashed and lit up the place erratically.
Oh god the music.
Eurodance from the 90’s was blasting with bass heavy enough to shake the building.
Oh god, the amount of monsters.
They were also dressed in gaudy outfits, which explained why their disguises were like that.
“cool. all we need to do is find whoever the hell ‘epic’ is. should we split?” Killer asked.
“oh god no,” Sans said.
Dusk grabbed them by their shoulders to drag them around and start their search.
“they're all wearing glasses too, didn't they say a scar on the socket is how we can differentiate him?” Sans said.
Killer groaned, “this is gonna take forever! we should just ask around or something.”
“you suddenly in the mood for social interaction?”
“this sensory nightmare’s making me feel like i’m floating out of my body, i just want to get this over with.” Killer approached one of the partygoers. “hey, y’know where a skeleton called epic is?”
He was completely ignored.
“cool. awesome. if we don't split up this’ll literally take forever, peace.” Killer walked off without waiting for the other two’s input.
Dusk and Sans watched as he got lost in the crowd in a whopping five seconds.
Dusk face palmed.
“maybe…maybe we can ask the dj? then they'll put out an announcement, or something,” Sans said.
“not that simple,” Dusk signed. He spelled out “fishy”.
“would it hurt to try?”
Dusk frantically shook his fist in a “yes.”
“eh, don't be a downer. where is the dj, anyway?” He looked around, fortunately most of the monsters here were around the same height as him so his view wasn't too obstructed. “yeesh, this place is big.”
The strobe lights flickered more as they all started moving to one point. The lights shone on the DJ station, the DJ themself was still shrouded in darkness. The sound of scratching discs filled the building as the music quieted down. “HOW WE FEELIN’ BROSEPHS ‘N JOESEPHS!?”
A mechanical roar of cheers rang out among the crowd.
They recognized that voice. They most definitely recognized that voice.
Dusk grabbed Sans by the arm.
“okay,” Sans breathed, “that's fine. maybe, no one knows his deal. we can just. leave the building.”
Dusk tugged at Sans, pointing furiously at the ground.
It was hard to notice due to how dark and packed it is, but on the ground were several piles of dust.
“hm. nice knowing ya.”
“You party animals havin’ fun?! I know I am, yo!” The unmistakable sound of Fresh’s voice boomed throughout the warehouse. The lights finally shone on him. He looked exactly the same as the first time they saw him. He was spinning. a disc on his finger. “I just gots some totes rad news before we continue on with gettin’ jiggy.”
The colored lights moved over to his side, revealing a stage that was hidden in the darkness, and on the stage was Killer. He looked confused, as if he didn't even know how he got up there.
Sans nearly swore but Dusk slapped a hand over his mouth.
When he caught sight of Fresh he stood frozen like a deer caught in headlights.
“Any bros know this fool?” Fresh asked. He put the disk back on the turntable and scratched his chin. “I don't. Did we invite him?” His bemusement barely masked his elation at having prey he didn't have to catch.
Killer didn't know what to do. He looked down at the crowd. The sunglasses they wore were originally all blank but the familiar “YOLO” text was on them now.
Running definitely wasn't going to help.
“Eh no biggie. I’ll give him a proper introduction to this rad party.” Fresh turned the music back on.
Killer internally swore at Cross, cursing his entire life. He was going to die and it was going to be to the fucking tune of a stupid 90’s song about sex. Well he wasn't going down without a fight.
He summoned a blaster aimed at Fresh and fired.
Only for one of the partygoers to leap into the blast to block it.
Killer watched in horror as he dusted that monster. The familiar rush of exp hit him like a truck, he couldn't help but fall to his knees.
“oh god,” Sans muttered from the crowd.
The three were completely powerless in this situation. This wasn't a fucking test. They were sent to their deaths.
What a sick joke.
“Oh snap! Well, you're just gonna hafta replace that now, aren't ya?” Fresh disappeared with a poof, promptly reappearing behind Killer.
Killer quickly pushed himself up and backed away from him.
Fresh didn't even follow him, the stage wasn't that big anyway.
He reached the edge of the stage, back to the crowd. Only Fresh could see the fear on his face.
Some of the crowd climbed on stage to grab his ankles, anchoring him down.
He was hyperventilating, he was overwhelmed, he felt nothing at all.
He felt nothing at all.
Dusk and Sans went as far as they could away from the stage. They eventually reached a wall. Sans leaned against it in defeat while Dusk banged his skull against it.
Sans winced at the loud thud.
They could vaguely see the stage from here. Killer was gone and Fresh returned to his station.
The party continued on like nothing happened.
“so. do you think you’ll end up back in your universe after, or.”
Dusk huffed.
“right.” Dumb question.
They just stood there against the wall watching the neverending party. They questioned if this was hell or purgatory. No, this was definitely hell.
“ey, i finally found you guys.” It was Killer.
Dusk and Sans tensed.
His soul was a shape they’ve never seen it be before. It was in the shape of a flower.
“chillax, i’m not gonna do anything,” he said. His cadence was off. “you two have just been standing there all gloomy…” He put a hand on the wall just above Dusk’s shoulder. “why don’t you come join the fun?”
With how close he was, Dusk was able to see the parasitic flower in the small sliver of his sockets that wasn't covered by the triangular shades.
Killer leaned closer to his face. “c’mon, i’m getting lonely.”
Sans socked him in the face.
Dusk flinched back in surprise as Killer fell to the ground from the impact.
Sans shook the pain off his hand. “i think we're good.”
Dusk knelt down by Killer. He took his shades off and immediately plunged his hand into the socket containing the flower.
“uh—” Sans reached a hand out but was interrupted by Killer’s lucid screaming.
The nearby skeletons slowed their dancing, turning over to the interruption.
With one last quick yank, the flower snapped off. Dusk dropped it and stamped his foot on it repeatedly.
Killer gasped for air and keened in pain. Then he passed out.
Dusk blinked in shock.
Sans cringed, “think you went a bit overboard.”
“you were the one who punched him!” Dusk blurted stupidly.
“yup, and you committed malpractice.”
The music came to a halt with a dramatic record scratch.
The lights landed on the three.
“Yo, dudes. Quit harshin’ the vibe,” Fresh scoffed into the mic.
Dusk rolled his eyelights and picked Killer up, draping him over his shoulder.
They were surrounded now, by the skeletons under his control.
Dusk summoned multiple blasters overhead, ready to fire if any of them stepped closer.
“Yeesh! You three weren't even invited! What's the dealio? That scummy octo brought you here to rustle my jimmies or something?”
That. Wasn't even 90’s lingo.
There was some feedback coming from the mic. “That thing’s not comin’ here for real, actually, right?” For once he sounded unsure.
Was he actually threatened by Nightmare?
They had to roll with the lie. They could survive this. They just had to convince him he was coming.
Sans put a hand on Dusk’s shoulder. “nah yeah, he won't have to intervene as long as we get what he needs.”
“Bogus! Whaddaheck would that dillweed need?”
Sans pulled out the image of Epic from his pocket and showed it to the nearest partygoer. “we just need this guy, and we'll be outta your hair.”
“Oooh, yeah, I get what you're layin’ down.”
Said nearest partygoer grabbed Sans’s wrist.
“You're fibbin’.”
Welp.
Dusk was just about to fire the blasters on standby, only for a cluster of bones to sprout from the ceiling and stab through the giant skulls.
Dusk grumbled. He adjusted his grip on Killer so that he didn't drop him.
“you're kinda grabbing his butt,” Sans pointed out.
“we’ve done worse.”
“go back to not talking.”
“Aight. So y’all come on in uninvited and interrupt my bodacious party? S’all good. I’ll let you dudes bounce…not!” Fresh yelled into the mic. “I’m gonna enjoy taking y’all over. You're not worming your way out this time.”
Right as his sentence ended, it was disproved. A portal opened. It was like the light at the end of the tunnel.
That portal looked similar to the ones Nightmare made, actually.
“Ah, nah, what’s the dealio?”
But instead of the guardian of negativity arriving, a huge wave of tiny not-quite-skeletons poured in like a flood.
“what,” Dusk and Sans said in unison as absolute chaos unfolded in the warehouse.
These “not-quite-skeletons” acted more like hyperactive temmies. Their giant skulls were bigger than the rest of their body making them look more like aliens than anything. They all wore bandanas that matched the color of their huge star eyelights. They bounded around the place causing total anarchy.
Fresh among others were trampled by these small menaces. Some were simply dancing to the music while others were actively jumping some of the partygoers. They swore they even saw one playing with a pile of dust.
And all of this was happening while “We Like to Party!” by the Vengaboys was playing.
A second portal opened up behind them. They didn't even get to process this before someone yanked them through.
They both landed on their backs. Killer peacefully laid atop Dusk, still managing to sleep through that all. Hopefully he wasn't in a coma.
Dusk and Sans looked at each other, unsure if they were both already dead or if what they saw was all real.
Certainly one hell of a deus ex machina, but with all the shit they’ve gone through they might as well accept it with open arms.
It was Blue that stood over them, looking utterly concerned. “oh my GOD, you three almost died! well, you would’ve been under fresh’s control for whoever knows how long and then you would collapse from exhaustion and then die, but still,” he rambled. He put a hand on his face. “If my plan didn't work…well! Glad it did! Even if it wasn't the one I initially had,” he sighed in relief. “I’m SO sorry you guys went through that! I told Cross not to do it but, ARGH, no one listens to me!” He stomped his foot, it reminded them of Papyrus.
Another portal appeared next to him and two skeletons walked out. One was dressed like they just walked out of an anime convention and the other was clearly a skeleton from Fresh’s party.
“Thank you so much Dream,” Blue said.
Dream?
The two looked closely at him. There was a star made out of magic floating by his forehead. It reminded them of the crescent moon that rested near Nightmare's forehead. He was the one that created the portals similar to him too.
“you're his brother,” Sans said.
“Hm? Brother? I don’t…”
“They already know he's your brother, Dream,” Blue interrupted.
Dream darted his eyelights away guiltily. “I promise you, I’m not like him at all. I’m so sorry he held you all captive for a year! It must've been horrible.”
Dusk and Sans didn't really care about the needless pity. Both of them had one thing on their mind and it was punching the living daylights out of Cross.
“Right…” Blue said awkwardly. “Anyway, Dream, please tend to Epic, I’ll take these guys from here.”
Dream nodded and teleported himself and the other skeleton, who was apparently Epic, off to someplace else.
Blue stared down at the three who hadn't budged at all. “So, do you guys need help getting up, or.”
“i’m staying down here, thanks,” Sans said.
“Is Killer knocked out, or sleeping?”
“he's been out cold ever since Dusk ripped off the flower in his socket.”
Blue smacked the side of his skull, looking distraught. He looked around the place—they just realized they were in someone's living room—and told them to stay there before bolting off to another room.
Sans turned his attention to Killer and Dusk. “are you just gonna have him lay on top of you the whole time?”
Dusk shrugged. Honestly he was kind of comfortable like this. Killer was like a weighted blanket.
Sans finally got up from the floor, stretching his back with a groan. He stumbled over to the couch nearby and flopped onto it. He massaged his face. “god, i don't want to do anything ever again.”
Dusk hummed in agreement.
Blue came back shortly after with a stash of snacks. He dumped them onto the coffee table in front of the couch. “I got some snacks so you guys can replenish your energy. Do any of you know healing magic?”
Dusk nodded.
Blue walked over to him, leaning down to pick up Killer off of him only for Dusk to slap his hand away. “Oh! Sorry, I thought you were stuck,” he said, embarrassed.
Dusk sat up, holding Killer in his arms. He carefully put his hand over his soul and started healing it.
“you're not even going to eat first—Okay, that's fine.” Blue looked away from the poor medical practice. He waited a moment. “Okay, you're not supposed to keep going until he wakes up, you're gonna overload his soul with magic.”
Dusk rolled his eyelights and drew his hand away.
“He should wake up in a few minutes. In the meantime,” he grabbed something off the table and threw it at him, “eat something!”
The packaged snack bumped his head and fell to the floor sadly.
Dusk laid Killer down, having his head rest on his legs so that he could pick up the snack and eat it.
Blue turned to Sans. “You should eat something too.”
Sans glanced at the food on the table, then back at Blue. “why are you helping us?” he asked.
Blue looked disheartened by his suspicion. He fidgeted with his hands. “because i want to. And why wouldn't I? Everyone deserves help!”
“real naive of you to say.”
Blue’s expression hardened. “Fine, maybe it’s more than that. Maybe I want to feel like I’m worth something by helping people out. Maybe I’m sick of people dying when I could’ve done something. Maybe I’m guilty, so I help assholes like you in order to cope! Is that a selfish enough answer for you?”
Sans grabbed something off the table to eat. “sure.”
Blue sighed, crossing his arms. “good.”
They sat in silence as the two ate a bit. After a few uncomfortable minutes, Killer finally woke up.
He rolled off of Dusk. He immediately fired a round of questions, “everything hurts. why’s it so dark. where am i?”
“The lights are on?” Blue said.
“who the hell are you?”
“i think you blinded him, dude,” Sans said.
“what?!” Killer shouted.
“He shouldn’t be permanently blinded, he just needs to eat!” Blue assured. “Carelessly yanking out Fresh’s flower temporarily blinds the victim because it injures the orbit, and any injury to that area causes temporary blindness as our magic prioritizes healing it over being able to see.”
“oh, you’re the nerd that gave us food yesterday.”
“i’m the huh?” Blue mumbled. He shook off the insult and grabbed some packaged crackers off the table to give to Killer. “Anyway, we’re not at the hub right now. You guys are gonna crash at my place, which is here, until I give Cross a talk.”
Killer gnawed on the crackers without removing the wrapper, until Dusk snatched it from him to properly open it and hand it back to him.
Killer poured the crumbs into his mouth, a good amount of it missed and landed on the floor which Blue decided to ignore.
After blinking a few times, Killer was able to see again. “where is ‘here’?”
“I don’t really have time to explain what this place is but uh, I suggest not going outside because you might end up in a different universe,” Blue said casually. “I shouldn’t be gone for too long, but in case I am, you guys are free to raid the kitchen, watch some tv, etc—Oh yeah! I also have a book containing all my notes on the multiverse if you wanna read it. Since you three are outcodes now it’ll be useful to know about some of the threats and important areas in the multiverse.”
The three of them looked at him like he was speaking a different language.
He coughed into his hand and pulled the book out from his inventory to set it on the coffee table. He awkwardly waved goodbye which got no responses and left the house.
“that guy’s too nice,” Killer remarked. “how hasn’t he died?”
“my guess is dumb luck or he’s hiding something.” Sans sat up on the couch, looking curiously at the book, which was actually just some spiral bound notebook. He picked it up, might as well read it to pass the time.
Killer stood up, stumbling a bit as he waited for the vertigo to pass. “i’m gonna snoop around,” he announced.
“have fun with that.”
While Killer wandered off and Sans read, Dusk went over to the fridge.
Sans flipped through the pages of the notebook, skimming over the titles of various names of people and places. He paused when he saw Nightmare’s name.
“dusk, get over here!”
Dusk walked over with no haste at all. He was holding two glasses, and was currently drinking out of one. He held out the other to Sans.
Sans looked up from the book to see the concoction he was giving him. It was nearly the same as all the past times Dusk made the mistake of playing bartender. Except this time…”did you add crushed chips? that thing has at least four different textures in it now.”
Dusk shrugged.
Killer walked back in the room, looking very dissatisfied. He wasn’t able to find anything interesting or any skeletons in the closet. His sights immediately landed on the drinks. “what the fuck is that?” he chuckled.
“nah, killer this ain’t for you.” Sans took the second drink from Dusk’s hand.
“aw, what?”
“anyway,” he took a sip, “this guy has notes about nightmare.”
Killer walked around the table and sat next to Sans. “woah, that's crazy.” He leaned closer at the book, but quickly switched his target to the drink.
Unfortunately, Sans was quick enough to move the drink away before he could take a sip.
Killer grumbled disappointedly and looked back at the book, actually reading the page this time. “i mean, we already know all of this, i don't see how this is…” he trailed off as he got halfway through the page. “huh. he’s had quite the history.”
“whaddya think being ‘the guardian of negativity’ means?”
“does it matter? we hate him. end of story.”
Sans eyed the line that said Nightmare couldn't feel positive emotions. If that was true, that explained a lot of things, but did that change anything? Not really. “yeah, i guess it doesn't.”
Once he was back at the hub, Blue hunted down Cross. His angry speech died on his metaphorical tongue the second he saw him and Epic having a reunion. He stopped in his tracks and watched them from a distance.
Ink appeared by his side, also watching the two. “Ah, a happy ending.”
“It was completely unnecessary for any of this to happen and you know it,” Blue said sternly.
Ink pouted. “Aw, are you mad at me? It wasn’t my idea to send those three to their deaths.”
Blue scowled at him. “But it’s your fault Fresh kidnapped Epic in the first place.”
Ink looked dumbfounded and then guilty, like a dog that was caught doing something it shouldn’t. “You’re getting too good at reading me…” he sighed. “How long did you know?”
“The second we found out it was Fresh that took Epic I immediately knew it was you,” Blue deadpanned. There were only a few people who could’ve let Fresh into the place, and only one person who would’ve. Besides, ever since Cross rescued Epic from his scripted death, Ink would glare at him like he personally wronged him.
“Aw,” Ink gave him a hug, “and you didn’t tell anyone?”
He didn’t just not tell anyone he also covered for him. There was a reason Cross didn’t know he did it. “There wasn’t any point to.”
“And you wouldn’t rat out your best friend!”
Blue flicked his cheek bone. “Sure,” he said sarcastically. He ended the hug with Ink with a gentle shove. “Those three are probably gonna try to kill Cross though. I’m making that your responsibility.”
Ink giggled at the idea of the three hunting down Cross. “Eh, he can handle that on his own.”
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Thank you @oldfashionedmorphine for the cute prompt <3 <3 <3
~~~
Eddie stares at the thing he just pulled out of the cardboard box in front of him, concisely labeled "Kitchen". That makes him think it must be food-related (then again, Buck kept a ring cutter in his cutlery drawer, so who knows), but try as he might, he can't work it out. It's a bright green plastic knife, but the handle is weird—it's a grid instead of a solid surface, too wide and too flat to be comfortable to hold.
"What is this?"
He holds it up. Buck, who's sitting across from him, glances up, shrugs, and looks back down at Christopher's textbook.
"It's an avocado cutter."
"Why do you need an avocado cutter?" Eddie asks.
Buck looks up again. "Why do you think, Eddie? Not to cut apples, that's for sure."
Eddie reaches into the box again and takes out a (much more recognizable) plastic gadget—a red plastic frame and eight blades, arranged in the middle like spokes on a wheel. "And what's this?"
"That's an apple cutter."
Wordlessly, Eddie drops that back in the box and pulls out something long and yellow—
"Banana cutter."
—followed by something that looks exactly the same, except orange.
"Hot dog cutter," Buck says, with a smile.
"Uh huh." Eddie pulls out something purple.
"That's an onion," Buck cuts himself off, "dicer."
"An onion cutter," Eddie repeats.
"No, an onion dicer," Buck insists. "It said so on the package."
Eddie looks at the thing in his hands. It looks exactly like the apple cutter, but the blades are arranged in a grid, forming little squares instead of wedges. "What's the difference?"
Chris, sat between them and brooding over his English homework, stops chewing on his pencil just long enough to say, "It's obvious, dad. Cutters cut, dicers dice."
"It's obvious, Eddie," Buck echoes, smirking.
Eddie drops the onion cutter on the no pile, ignoring Buck's pout.
"I don't think you should be throwing out all of my shi—" Buck cuts himself off with a glance in Chris' direction. "All of my stuff. That's not the point of moving in together. Your stuff is supposed to mingle, Eddie."
"You can say shit, you know," Chris tells them boredly. "I'm not a baby."
"Our stuff is mingling," Eddie replies, pointing his finger at Chris, a silent admonishment Chris completely ignores. "But not this stuff. I already have a banana cutter. And an onion dicer. And all the other stuff in between."
Buck looks at him skeptically. "You do?"
Eddie nods and gets up. He walks to his cutlery drawer and pulls out a single kitchen knife. "See? It cuts, it dices, and it's universal."
"It's not shaped like a banana though."
Chris chuckles and quickly dips his head when Eddie looks at him, as if he's been focused on his homework the whole time. Eddie shakes his head.
"That sounds like a good thing, if you ask me."
"I guess I won't ask you, then," Buck replies.
Eddie sits back down. He would give in (he would fill every single drawer in this house with useless gadgets if it made Buck happy) but Buck's frown is clearly not genuine—the spark in his eyes is far too obvious.
"So what you're saying is," Buck continues, "as long as it's not a cutter, it's fine."
Eddie hesitates. "Why does that feel like a dangerous thing to say yes to?"
"Live on the edge, Eddie," Buck tells him sagely, and Eddie has never been one to back down from a challenge.
"Okay."
Buck pulls the box closer to him and starts rummaging through it. He produces some things Eddie doesn't mind saying yes to—spacer rings for his rolling pin, a collapsible silicone bowl for microwave popcorn, a pizza cutter shaped like a bicycle and cupcake tins shaped like firetrucks, which are just ridiculous enough that Eddie wants to see them in action.
"See," he says, "we're mingling."
"We are," Buck confirms, and there's something in his smirk that might be bad news. Eddie has seen that smirk before. It usually precedes a rope rescue or something equally dangerous. "So if you don't have something yet, I get to keep it, yeah?"
Eddie frowns. "That was the deal."
"Okay." Buck reaches into the box between them one last time and pulls out the weirdest thing Eddie has seen all day. It's chocolate-colored and square, with a round cylinder at the back. Two arms protrude from it, made from flexible white plastic. He shakes it lightly and those arms rattle, slapping against the flat base.
Eddie stares at it. "What on earth does that do?"
"It's a s'more maker," Buck says, tugging at one of the arms. "You put your crackers here, and your chocolate and your marshmallow, and then you put it in the microwave. And this little thing holds everything in place."
"We used it every time I stayed over at Buck's," Chris says fondly. "The s'mores taste really, really bad."
"Microwaved s'mores taste bad?" Eddie reaches out to tug at the other arm, then lets it fall back down. "Shocking."
Buck is smirking, and the thing is—Eddie knows fully well that this is a dare. He knows that Buck expects to be told to get rid of this thing, and that he would do it, gladly. And maybe that last part is why Eddie just shrugs instead.
"Okay."
"Okay?" Buck repeats, incredulously.
"Okay," Eddie confirms. "Bet we can clear some space for it."
Buck stares at him, stunned. "For real?"
Eddie reaches for Buck's hand, still holding the chocolate-colored monstrosity, and smooths his thumb across Buck's knuckles.
"It's your house too," he says simply.
It's Buck's house too. Buck isn't renting a room from Eddie, isn't staying here as a guest. Buck is a part of this household now, of this family. If he wants to make s'mores in their microwave, he doesn't need Eddie's permission.
Buck's eyes speak volumes. Later, when they're alone, Buck will kiss Eddie for this, hard enough that Eddie forgets about everything else. For now, he just flips his hand so he can lace their fingers together, Buck's a little longer than Eddie's but calloused in all the same places.
Chris catches one glimpse of them and rolls his eyes, burying his face in his homework, but he's smiling too.
"Okay," Buck says quietly. "Okay. But I am getting rid of it. Chris is right. The s'mores are really bad."
"Could take it to work," Eddie says after a moment, when his brain is no longer too flooded with love to work properly. "Show it to Bobby."
"He'll disown me."
"Yeah, maybe. But his face would be worth it."
Buck's smile grows into a smirk, bright and devastating. He mouths the next words, for Chris' sake, but Eddie has heard them so many times by now that his brain fills in the gaps, that he hears Buck's voice as he reads Buck's lips: I love you.
"I know you do," Eddie replies. It takes one pout, and then he breaks. He mouths back, trusting Buck to be able to read him just as easily: I love you more.
"You two are embarrassing," Chris tells them. "And we're keeping the s'mores maker. I like it."
Just like that, it's settled.
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