#Papcest OT5

[dragonfics]

12 Days of Papcest (Day 12)

6 Days of Papcest

Day 12: Wound

Ship: Atypical hoard (Twist/Edge/Rus/Slim/Cash)

Summary: Physical wounds are temporary, and easy to deal with. Twist knows this well. It's the hidden ones that scar more deeply. His lovers' pasts have scarred them, and that pains Twist. He'll do anything he can to assure them they're safe and loved, always.

Warnings: Non-graphic injury, broken ribs, anxiety, gross eating (raw chicken), implied eating disorder, slightly NSFW, hurt/comfort and fluff

Read on AO3

For the event organised by @sfw12-days-of-papcest.

A little late, but this is the last instalment of my contribution to 12 Days of Papcest! I’ve had so much fun participating in this event. ^_^

[itsladykit]

yeets down door// i know im late but !!! polyruses for the ship ask meme please?

Okay, I have like...two ships that are technically Polyruses. I’m sure you mean Slim/Edge/Rus/Papyrus but I’ve also got my OT5. So....

Slim/Edge/Rus/Papyrus—...for my headcanons? B. It’s a good ship, and I love other portrayals of it, but...I don’t really see how my boys specifically would interact in a poly ship. Which is weird, because Mapleblossom and Spicyhoney are both OTPs for me. I can maybe see partner sharing or the occasional threesome/foursome, but...I can’t really see them as an equal polyship. (I also don’t really see them as being completely sexually compatible, and that does make the ship less appealing for me on the whole.)

As a reminder, though, a B still means it’s a good, enjoyable ship. I just can’t get into it for my boys.

Edge/Rus/Slim/Twist/Cash—A+. There’s a reason I often shorten this ship to the Papcest OT5, and a reason my entire Atypical series is focused on this ship. I adore it as an equal poly and as individual relationships that also cross and mingle.

[paintys-actual-art]

READ MY FANFIC!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[dragonfics]

Schrodinger’s Werewolf

Prompt: Rushing to the hospital/Waiting in the hospital

Ship: Puppymoney + Papcest OT5

AU: Supernatural (which I completely butchered by the way, sorry)

_______________________________

For @itsladykit who asked for the Papcest OT5 (technically the Atypical hoard, but this feels a lot more like the regular OT5). This is one of the angst prompts, but it’s a lot heavier on the hurt/comfort--with a happy ending of course. Kit doesn’t like unresolved sads. Also, please forgive the highly insensitive title.

Warnings: Near death (no actual death), mention of a car crash, graphic injuries, needles

This would have to be very deep into Siren Cash’s redemption arc, because he’s way too nice here. (Let’s just pretend it’s normal Cash.... wait, nope. Still too nice. It’s an AU of an AU Cash where Cash is nice. There.) Thank you, Kit. I hope you enjoy!

~Below the cut~

“i’m fine—i said i’m fine.” Cash pushed away the paramedic, scrambling towards Pup’s stretcher. “pup—puppy, can you hear me?” He grasped at Pup’s hand, squeezing it. Ignoring the marrow that soaked Pup’s entire torso. Ignoring the sheer volume of magic spilling onto the ambulance floor. “pup…”

“Sir, we’re going to need you to give him some space.”

“fuck off,” Cash growled in warning, clutching Pup’s hand tighter.

“Sir, you’re injured. You have a cracked rib and possible vertebral damage. If you’d just let me—“

“get back!” Cash snarled as the paramedic touched his shoulder. She flinched at the sudden flare of magic and Cash’s bared fangs. Sighing and stepping away, she let him be. Tempering an unhinged siren was clearly above her paygrade.

Cash winced as the ambulance jolted, pain spearing through the fragmented bones of his shoulder. But he couldn’t think about his own superficial injuries right now. He didn’t care about them. He didn’t care. Nothing mattered but Pup.

Pup. Whose ribcage was half-collapsed and whose spine was almost definitely the wrong shape. Pup. Who was so wet with his own spent magic his bones were a shocking violet.

And it was all Cash’s fault.

“His body isn’t accepting the mana.”

Cash perked, glancing up at the paramedic tending to Pup’s vitals. “what’s wrong?” he asked. “what does that mean?” But no one was listening to him, focused intently on trying to staunch Pup’s wounds and inject him with chemicals Cash wasn’t familiar with. Which should have put Cash’s mind at ease—they were helping Pup (were they? Could they be trusted? What if they were just making it worse? What if--)—But Cash’s frustration exceeded his logic. “tell me what’s happening!” he growled, panicked.

“We’ve got the right mana type, but his body is rejecting it,” the paramedic explained, his eyes darting to Cash a little fearfully. “It may be because of his species…” He pressed against Pup’s wounds. (What use was it? There were so many. Pup had already lost too much magic. Too much. How could they possibly hope to stop it?)

Cash stared, squeezing Pup’s hand tighter. “well—do something about it,” he pleaded, hoarsely.

“We’re trying, sir,” the paramedic said with a deliberate look at his colleague.

Pup was so still. Unnaturally still. His normally strong bones broken and shattered like glass. Like nothing. “p-pup,” Cash whined, clinging tighter to Pup’s hand. “pup i’m sorry i’m so sorry please—”

“Increasing the mana dosage,” the paramedic said. He frowned as he pressed the tip of the needle beneath the outer membrane of Pup’s soul. (So pale and broken and fragile. How was it even still going?) “We might be able to overwhelm his system into accepting the mana temporarily until we reach the hospital.”

“Do they have wolf magic in supply?” his colleague asked.

“Let’s hope so.”

Cash clutched Pup’s hand tighter, surprised the bones hadn’t shattered in his grip. He pleaded silently, his chest heaving. “don’t leave me, pup. stay with me. don’t die. don’t you dare fucking die, you bastard, or i’ll kill you.” He fought against tears.

  Cash paced the hallway, his soul thrumming. He cast another desperate glance at the operating room, but the door remained shut. Pup was behind that door. Dead or alive, Cash had no way of knowing. Schrodinger’s Werewolf, his mind supplied, unhelpfully.

“Cash?”

Cash flinched violently, magic sparking briefly--only to realise it was just Twist. The dragon’s eye-light was lit, hot and fierce. His grip on Cash’s fractured shoulder was too tight. Cash didn’t care. His breath was coming too quickly—yet not at all, a squeezing pressure around his soul. Twist’s eye-light flickered to the door, then back to Cash. “Let’s sit,” he said, unnervingly gentle.

“no, no, no—what about pup?” Cash asked frantically, looking at the door. “what if—”

“Ye’ve done what ya can. Now ye’ve jus’ gotta wait.” Twist spoke the words like a grudge—he was just as unhappy about the fact as Cash was. Cash still fought him as he half-dragged him towards the waiting room. Edge and Rus were sitting together, huddled close. They looked up when Twist and Cash approached—as did half the other people in the room, Cash still caught between sobbing and snarling as he attempted to pry himself free of Twist’s hold.

Rus stood up immediately and hurried over to them, placing an arm around Cash’s shoulders. Cash fought his projections—but to little avail. “fuck you, demon,” he growled, even as he melted into Rus’s side. Rus made no ‘maybe later, siren’ joke, as he might have on a normal day.

They all huddled close on one of the sofas, none of them speaking. What could be said? They all knew it was Cash’s fault. He’d been the one driving. He’d gotten angry. Again. Always. Why did he always have to—

“Pup gave you that, didn’t he?” Edge spoke so quietly, Cash almost didn’t hear him at first. When he noticed Edge’s eyes on the half-moon ring around his left index finger, he curled the hand to his chest, eyeing Edge dangerously.

“what of it, vampire?”

Edge didn’t speak. Closing his eyes, he nudged himself against Rus, who was dozing. Cash went stiff when at first Edge touched his hand. Edge had never been good at projecting—not in the way Rus and Twist were. And yet, at the same time, the touch was pleasant, undemanding. As Twist, in his half-asleep haze, began emanating warmth, Cash let Edge hold his hand, and let the tears fall.

  “Someone’s awake.”

“i’m not awake, twisted. fuck off.” Cash buried himself deeper into the sofa cushions, but Twist gripped his arm and yanked him to his feet.

“Not you, asshole.”

Cash rubbed his shoulder, staring at Twist as realisation dawned on him. He noticed that Rus and Edge had disappeared, the early morning sun shining through the windows. “i-is he…?”

“He wants ta see ya,” Twist said, grinning.

A flood of emotions overwhelmed Cash’s soul—relief, anxiety, joy… fear. “is he… angry with me?”

Sorrow briefly struck Twist’s expression, but his relaxed smile quickly returned. “He’s alive. C’mon. He’s been askin’ fer ya.”

Edge and Rus were sitting on the sofa beside Pup’s bed when they reached his room, the curtains drawn against the sun and Edge dozing against Rus’s shoulder. Cash froze in the doorway, nerves suddenly gripping him. Pup glanced at him, his soft purple eye-lights dilating immediately. “are you hurt?” he asked at once, scanning the dried mana staining Cash’s clothes.

Cash stared at him. “am i—” He shook his head, incredulous. “am i hurt? you fucker! i thought you were dead!”

“i’m not,” Pup said, weakly indicating his heavily bandaged body with his only free hand. “almost. they had werewolf mana in supply. somehow.” He shot Twist an accusatory glance, but Twist had suddenly become very preoccupied with the hospital’s magazine rack. Pup shook his head and turned back to Cash. He was silent, observing him closely with a faint smile.

Cash approached the bed slowly, wringing his hands together. He sat on the chair opposite Rus and Edge. Rus was regarding him astutely, as if he might snap. Cash wasn’t completely confident he wouldn’t.

He scanned Pup for a few moments as they sat in silence, trying not to focus on the uneven rise and fall of his crumpled chest. Cash’s whole body ached, the physical consequences of the crash finally creeping up on him.

“you know which part hurts most?” Pup asked quietly, and Cash’s chest clenched. He shook his head mutely, a sick feeling rising in his chest. Pup lifted his right hand, displaying his crooked fingers and Cash laughed—actually laughed--in surprise. “you have a firm grip,” Pup murmured, amused.

“well, we all knew that already,” Rus supplied, while Edge grumbled something irritable in his doze, even as he nuzzled into Rus’s shoulder.

“thank you,” Pup whispered to Cash. He laced their fingers together, and Cash’s soul stuttered. Pup rubbed his thumb over the crescent ring on his finger, sparking warmth across Cash’s carpals. “for staying with me.”

Cash glanced over Pup—over his shattered ribcage and his fractured collarbone and his—

“it’s not your fault,” Pup murmured, and Cash felt a flood of warm intent in the air. “i’m alive because of you. because you—”

“but you wouldn’t have needed help in the first place if i hadn’t—”

“Hey, none a’ that,” Twist scolded. “Scooch over.”

Cash frowned at him. “it’s an armchair.”

“An’ I’m a dragon. Now make space.”

Cash ended up awkwardly bundled on Twist’s lap—not the most comfortable, but he couldn’t complain with the warm purr of the dragon against his back. There had been a time when Cash would have protested any sort of physical affection—from the dragon especially. But now…

He leaned forward, closing his hand around Pup’s and absorbing the pleasant hum of magic he projected in return. “i’m glad you’re alive,” he murmured, sighing in deep satisfaction. “thank you for… for living.”

Pup smiled, half-amused, half-sorrowful. “you’re welcome. it’s really not so bad,” he said, glancing at Edge and Rus, asleep on the sofa, and Twist, curled around Cash. His eye-lights lingered on Cash, and a brittle purr rumbled through him. The sound, though weak, was enough to temper the remaining static in Cash’s soul. He closed his eye, and allowed himself the moment of peace.

[itsladykit]

Papcest OT5 - Ribbon

Edge is having a rough time on the surface. Slim helps him.

Pairings: Background Papcest OT5, focus on Edge/Slim

Warnings: Self-worth issues, intrusive thoughts. Suggestive themes. 

Coming to the surface, Edge had initially assumed he’d be able to drop his façade. That he wouldn’t have to play the bad guy anymore. Yet somehow he once again found himself in this position, and now he didn’t even have the satisfaction of banging a few heads together to let off some steam. He ran with Twist every morning, and he lifted weights with Undyne. Usually that was enough to take the edge off, but not tonight. Not right now.

It felt like his chest was going to crack open, like something was strangling his soul. He wanted to scream himself hoarse, wanted to fight until magic and marrow dripped from his knuckles. But screaming would accomplish nothing and there was nothing here to fight.

For the most part.

“I told you,” he snapped, “It’s not done yet. Be patient.”

“Aw, c’mon, sweetheart—“ A surge of irritation bubbled up at the endearment. It felt so insincere. So manipulative. “—jus’ a taste, huh?”

“Get out before I give you a taste of my fist,” Edge snarled, glaring at Twist. He was unmoved—just kept smiling at him, unfazed.

“Please?” he wheedled, reaching for a piece of the bell pepper he was chopping.

Edge slapped his hand, starting to radiate menace. “Enough! Get out of my kitchen!”

The kitchen counter was open to the living room, and the others—all either cuddled together on the couch or the floor—heard the exchange. Cash glanced over at them, his features closed off. Rus, however, raised a brow-bone. “you two okay over there?”

“We’re fine,” Edge snapped, glaring at Twist. Even Twist wasn’t oblivious enough to miss that expression. He rubbed his bruised knucklebones and managed a tentative smile.

“Uh, yeah. We’re fine, darlin’,” Twist said, glancing back at Rus. “Jus’…buggin’ the edgelord is all.” He pulled his hand into his chest and said, “Sorry, precious. I’ll leave ya ‘lone, right?”

“Thank you!” Edge said, exasperated as he returned his attention to the vegetables. “Hardly an onerous demand. I’m certain even you can manage that without much difficulty.”

“Right,” he agreed, “Even me.” Something in his tone caused Edge to look up, and he saw the sad smile Twist was offering him.

Only then did he replay everything he’d said and how he’d said it. Fuck. “Twist—“

But Twist waved him off, still forcing a smile as he grabbed his hoodie off the hook. “ ‘m gonna head out fer a bit, right? See y’all later.” The door clicked closed behind him.

Cash cursed under his breath and followed him out, yelling for Twist to wait for him. Rus looked between the door and Edge, obviously torn, but Slim caught his shoulder and leaned in. Whispering.

Edge pretended not to notice. He tried not to guess at what they were saying. Obviously talking about him, of course. That he couldn’t control his emotions. That he was an asshole. That he wasn’t even fit to be around other people. His knife sliced through the bell pepper at a frightening speed as he grit his teeth. Why did they stay, anyway? He was awful. He was an awful person and he didn’t even treat them half as well as they deserved and—

“think it’s diced,” Slim said, leaning over the counter.

Edge eyed the bell pepper and found he had to agree. He set the knife to the side, trying to figure out what he wanted to do with himself now. Wondering too why Slim was still here. Looking up, it was obvious that Rus had either teleported away or followed Cash and Twist out the door. “You aren’t going to join them too?” he asked, voice rough. What was he doing? He could feel the words pressing at the back of his mouth, and he just needed to not say them. That’s all. He just needed to shut his mouth and not say—“They’d certainly be much more appreciative of your company.”

Slim didn’t say anything, just watched Edge go to the sink and wash his hands. He couldn’t finish making dinner now. Not with everyone out—stars on fire, would they even come back for dinner? were they just going to find somewhere else to eat? away from him and his shitty attitude? He leaned against the sink, hands clenching on the countertop ledge. What was he supposed to do now, anyway? His soul felt like it was being strangled and his chest felt like it was collapsing in on itself—

“hey, edge?”

He swallowed tightly, controlling his breathing carefully. “You’re still here?”

“still here,” Slim confirmed, “you want to head upstairs with me?” Edge shook his head slightly, unable to speak. He was going to fall apart and he didn’t want Slim close by to watch it happen. But then Slim put a hand on his lower spine and leaned into his side. “c’mon, precious,” he coaxed, “why don’t you come with me?” For a few seconds, Edge remained stiff and unyielding. Then Slim added, voice soft, “please?”

His voice was so tender and honest, Edge found himself nodding and allowing Slim to lead him upstairs to the bedroom. Once behind closed doors, Edge just stood there, not wholly sure what to do with himself. So he mutely allowed Slim to coax him out of his shirt—bundling it up neatly before putting it in the laundry hamper—and onto the bed. “i love you,” Slim said, startling him.

“What?”

Slim just smiled his sad, sweet smile, running a thumb over his mandible. He shucked off his hoodie, but he left his tank top and sweatpants on. “lay down for me?”

For a moment, Edge resisted, but Slim was gentle and persistent. Soon enough, he was lying face down on the bed. Slim checked to make sure he was comfortable, then pulled a thin case from under the bed. Edge recognized it and started to get up again, but Slim caught his hand and kissed the knuckles. “please,” he murmured, “stay?”

Though his breathing was uneven, Edge nonetheless lowered himself down onto his forearms, shoulders tense as Slim set the case on the bedside table and opened it up. He surveyed the contents and selected a polishing cloth. He settled over Edge’s pelvis, leaning forward to run the polishing cloth over his clavicle and across his acromion process. His grip was firm but not painful. It felt good. Very good.

And it made Edge’s soul hitch.

He didn’t deserve to feel good. He’d managed to chase most of his lovers from the house—stars, Twist’s hurt smile haunted him—and that was only his most recent infraction. How many times had he snapped and snarled at them over nothing? Why did they—

Slim ran the cloth over first one scapula and then the other, leaning down to kiss them. He was purring softly, and Edge shook his head, trying to keep it together. He didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve a soft touch. He deserved—Slim ran the polishing cloth over his cervical vertebrae, paying special attention to each spinous process.

Edge’s bones rattled, and his chest hitched. There was no way that Slim hadn’t noticed, but he kept up the soft, gentle touches, occasionally pressing a light kiss to Edge’s bones. When he reached Edge’s lumbar spine, Edge had finally reached his breaking point. Each soft touch was like a lash. A reminder of all the things he didn’t deserve. Shouldn’t be allowed to want, let alone have. He dropped his head into his hands, sobbing silently, though his LV prevented his magic from forming into tears.

Slim lay flush atop him, wrapping his arms around him from behind. “it’s okay,” he whispered into Edge’s acoustic meatus, “it’s okay. you’re okay. i’ve got you. i love you. you’re okay.” It was a repetitive mantra, but the words themselves didn’t matter—only the sentiment behind them. Despite himself, Edge allowed Slim to hold him through his attack, allowed him to pet Edge’s skull and run soothing fingers over his chest.

Still more kindnesses he didn’t deserve.

Finally, when he’d managed to get himself under control, Edge said, softly, “I should just go. You’re…all of you deserve someone better than me.”

Slim shook his head, still smiling—soft and sad. Nuzzling against Edge’s neck, he said gently, “better than you? haven’t met anyone yet.” Edge shook his head, in no mood for flattery. But Slim squeezed his chest and said, “we know you’re having a rough time, precious. we’re not going to abandon you because of that. we love you and we know you love us.”

“Yes,” Edge snapped, “I’m sure Twist feels positively cherished.”

Slim turned his head and kissed him solidly before pulling back to say, “no one’s perfect.” Edge shut his sockets, trying to repress his renewed sobs, while Slim just laid his head on Edge’s shoulder and held him close. Then he resumed his careful polishing, paying attention to each vertebrae and rib-bone.

He slipped his hand into the underside of Edge’s rib-cage, running the polishing cloth over the flat of each rib. He rubbed carefully as his vertebrae, knuckling the disks of cartilage that cushioned each one. Edge shivered, but didn’t resist or try to protest. He was so emotionally exhausted, he could only lie passive and unresisting under Slim’s hands.

The soft, careful touches still felt undeserved. Self-pity still occasionally welled up. So did self-hatred. But Slim just continued to polish each bone with careful precision. He kissed a few, running a thumb over the edge. He remained largely silent, but he peppered his actions with soft reassurances.

“i love you, precious,” he murmured when he sat up at last, having lovingly worshiped each bone. “we all do.” Pressing Edge into the bed, he returned to the case, replacing the polishing cloth. He brought out a length of violet ribbon. Edge couldn’t help but shiver when the ends of the ribbon trailed over his spine. But Slim just lifted one of his arms and wound the ribbon around his humerus, knotting it securely. “so you don’t forget,” he whispered, running a thumb over Edge’s humerus.

Edge had no response to that. He lowered his gaze to the purple ribbon and ran his fingers over it. Closing his sockets, he inhaled deeply, feeling the first kernels of warmth blooming in his soul. “Thank you,” he managed after a moment, earning a pleased grin.

After that, they cuddled together under the covers, neither of them commenting on the emptiness of the too-large bed. Neither of them kept track of the passage of time, and both of them drowsed. Edge still felt sick and miserable. He still felt like a worthless jackass…but he did feel somewhat better when he woke up to find the others had joined them. Twist and Slim were both curled around him, and Cash and Rus rested on the outside, sleeping solidly.

Edge stirred, touching Twist’s chest in apology. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Twist’s sockets flicked open, his single eyelight casting a soft gold glow. He yawned and pulled Edge close, cuddling into him with a sigh. “Nuthin’s wrong with ya, precious. Yer jus’ having a bad week. Happens ta all ‘a us, yeah?”

Edge flinched a little, still soul-sick…then he saw the gold ribbon woven through his metacarpals, tied off in a neat bow around his wrist. A purple ribbon to match the first was wound around his other humerus, and a honey-hued ribbon was woven around his other hand. He touched the gold ribbon, sockets wide. Twist just sighed and cuddled him closer. “Love ya, precious. Now go ta sleep. Things’ll be better in the mornin’. You’ll see.”

[itsladykit]

I will be happy to answer these, Anon...but, uh, do you have a ship in mind? Otherwise I’m just going to pick one of my favorites.

[itsladykit]

Mutually recovering from abuse.... 😏

*slams hand on the “YES” buttom*

I love this trope and I 100% adore it for any Papcest ship. Spicyhoney? Absolutely. Puppymoney? Hell yes. TwistedBlossom? 100% Papcest OT5? Fuck yeah.

[itsladykit]

For the trope thing. BATTLE COUPLE.

Okay, platonically? Undyne and Papyrus or Felldyne and Edge. I love these guys fighting alongside each other and kicking ass.

Romantically? Geeze...this is actually a favorite trope of mine, I’m realizing. I love it for Muffyrus (yes, even when it’s Bad, but especially when it’s Good), and pretty much any Papcest couple. Though...I think my favorite is probably TwistedMaple or Mapleblossom. Slim is my quiet badass, and his abilities pair well with Twist or Papyrus. Also? The Atypical OT5. Badass boys standing alongside each other? Yes please.

[itsladykit]

man Kit... you're such an incredibly talented writer.... I love all of them? is all an option? Im choosing all in this situation. never doubt your writing abilities... because you're fucking amazing... and each and every one of your fics (lets be honest, spicyhoney, I'm bias) have brought me joy and pain and so many emotions... thank you for sharing them all with us.

/)///(\

Aw, Bourbon, thank you~. I’m so flattered. I really don’t know what to say. I just love exploring Spicyhoney and the OT5. Can’t even really articulate why. For the longest time, I was more of a multishipper…but in the end, I think Papcest in general and Spicyhoney in particular has really become my favorite ship to explore.

And all your lovely Spicyhoney art (and let’s be honest—your Cash and Puppymoney art too; love those boys as well) provides plenty of inspiration for it. ^_^

[itsladykit]

I was thinking about Twist and I got sad because if he fell in love he would never alow himself to go all the way because of his lv. He would always hold himself back and be in agony over something he feels he could never have. But honestly someone needs to just yell at him that it's not how long you have but how you use it. Even the shortest life span can still be happy and have love. But it would take a strong personality to get twist to even consider that.

I’d say Twist isn’t so much concerned about the lack of time. Part of the reason he’s so “crazy” is because he’s wants to experience as much as possible before his time is up, so he’s pretty much up for anything at any time. Twist is very much a “live life to it’s fullest” kinda guy. If he were to fall in love, I’m not sure he’d reject his own feelings. He might even try to spend time with the person he’s interested in. Talk them into bed. He wouldn’t deny himself that.

What he would do, though, is try to keep their feelings for him platonic or at least unattached. He doesn’t want them to miss him when he’s gone, no broken hearts on his account. No tears if it can be helped. He doesn’t think he’s worth them.

In fact, one of my headcanons regarding the Papcest OT5 is that, while all five of them are romantically involved, Edge and Rus gravitate more towards each other, and Slim and Cash do the same, so the Puppymoney and Spicyhoney is likely more intimate than the other pairings within the OT5. Twist bed hops and has fun with all of them, but he’s happiest thinking that none of them are going to be devastated when he’s gone. And I also love the idea of them finding out and being furious at him for thinking that way.

So, really, I could see that line of thinking extending to other ships as well—he wouldn’t romantically pursue someone on his own, but he’s happy to be part of an OT3 or more.

It would indeed take a very strong personality to snap him out of that mindset. Someone like Edge, Cash, Blue, Papyrus, or even Razz would be best. And I am very fond of all these pairings, even if I see them working in very different ways.

[dragonfics]

Poker with a twist

So, I’ve been playing around a bit with a hurt/comfort idea in regards to Tale-verse monsters helping Fell-verse monsters deal with the strain of their harsh lives. I have this headcanon that the Fell-verse monsters enjoy being around Tale-verse monsters because of the complete lack of hostility in their demeanours and magical auras. It’s almost like... a pleasant balm for the Fells’ LV-ridden souls.

I wrote this Papcest OT5 thing (it’s a bit rushed, so please forgive any mistakes), focusing on the relationship between Twist (Twistfell Papyrus) and Rus (Underswap Papyrus).

Twist is a very damaged boy. (He belongs to @itsladykit. Did we really expect anything less?) He needs some love. And Rus is here to give it to him.

Mild warning for mentioned character death (unnamed character) and symptoms of anxiety.

~Below the cut~

“Oh hell bridge? The fuck kind a’ Tale-verse bullshit is that?”

Rus levelled Twist with a glare as he shuffled the deck of cards on the kitchen table. “too sophisticated for you?” he asked, mouth twitching into a smirk.

Twist stifled a snort, brow bone lifting as he shot Cash a knowing glance across the table. “I say we jus’ stick with the original plan an’ play poker. Y’know? A game with actual stakes?”

Rus rolled his eye-lights, but Edge cut in. “Absolutely not. Poker is off limits with the two of you here.” He held Twist and Cash with a pointed stare.

Twist rolled his shoulders, trying to relieve the stiff tension in his neck. “Yer just takin’ his side ‘cause he lets ya do stuff ta him in public,” he commented. He caught Cash’s eye with a wink as Edge flushed hotly. Cash lifted a brow bone with a shake of his head, but remained silent.

“He—he does not!” Edge spluttered, cheekbones bright red.

Twist considered for a moment, then shook his head, laughing. The noise sounded a little strange. A little wrong. “Wait. Yer right. It’s me ya do dirty stuff ta.”

“I don’t!” Edge protested, indignant. “I—I don’t do that!”

Twist paused again, then turned to his left, where Slim was sitting quietly in observation. Leaning in, Twist whispered, “Was it you who felt me up behind Grillby’s that time? I forget.” He cracked his knuckles, grinning at Slim. His face felt a little numb.

Slim shook his head wordlessly, clearly struggling to hide his smile. He glanced up at Cash, then looked back at Twist, lifting a brow bone. “Ah,” Twist said plainly, nodding. “’Course it was.” He turned to Cash. “Ya free after this, sweetheart?”

Cash merely rolled his eye, clearly not amused by Twist’s suggestion. Most likely because he probably knew that Twist was completely serious. God, Twist could really do with a good fuck. Maybe it would help get rid of this hot, static feeling in his magic. “if ya win this hell bridge game, i’ll consider it,” Cash said, blandly.

“so, it’s settled? we’re playing oh hell bridge?” Rus was grinning triumphantly, and Twist conceded, tipping his head back with a put-upon sigh.

“I guess.” He glanced at Cash. “Ya’d better pay up, love.”

Cash scoffed. “yer implyin’ that i’m goin’ ta lose.”

Edge sighed heavily, pinching his nasal bone. “Rus. Give me the cards. You’re dealing too slowly.”

Rus wasn’t dealing at all in fact, his mouth pressed into his elbow as he tried to stifle his laughter. As Edge pried the cards from his hands, Rus glanced up at Twist, smiling. For the briefest of moments, warmth flickered in Twist’s chest, and his bones seemed to stop twitching. But the feeling died as he tore his gaze away, turning instead to Edge. “Ya’d better not be dealin’ with greasy fingers there, Edgy,” he said, cocking a brow bone.

“You’re projecting,” Edge remarked, dryly. Twist shrugged in concession, leaning back in his chair. Out of the corner of left socket, he could see Slim observing him. Twist winked at him, but Slim’s expression was one of concern, rather than amusement. He said nothing, but Twist could feel the weight of his worry, and quickly turned away, rapping his fingers on the surface of the wooden table. He focused on the steady thrumming until it drowned out the sound of the thoughts in his head.

 As it turned out, Rus’s ‘Oh hell bridge’ was a lot more brutal than any form of poker Twist had ever played. Well. Physical brutality excluded. He could recall a few poker games that had earned him a scar or two. Had he ever gained any EXP over poker? Probably.

But Twist soon began to wonder if this game was heading down the path to animosity. It was apparent that Cash was fighting his frustration, teeth clenched as he glared across the table at Twist. “two,” he said stiffly, placing two chips in front of himself. “i bet two.”

Rus shot Twist a grin, before glancing at Cash. “two? you sure about that? we’re down to three cards each. seems a bit overambitious if you ask me.”

“well, i didn’t ask ya,” Cash snapped, his visible socket flaring dangerously. Magic prickled at Twist’s fingertips.

Cash’s fury only seemed to amuse Rus further however, and he opened his mouth (no doubt to make another quip at Cash’s expense), when Edge cut in. “Undoubtedly ambitious,” he said quickly, eyes darting to Twist. “I’ll go with two as well.” His gaze lingered on Twist, but his expression was even and unreadable.

Rus, on the other hand, looked purely delighted, his eyes sparkling almost maliciously as Edge placed down two chips. “well. this is going to be a complete bloodbath. you both understand how this game works, don’t you?”

Edge shrugged, his face a mask of control. “We each have three cards this turn. I predict that two out of three of my cards are better than the rest of yours combined.”

Rus scrunched his face up as if in thought, humming. “eh… not quite how the game works, but you’re not losing, so i’ll give you that.” He turned to Cash, grinning. “you on the other hand—”

“i’m only two points behind the twisted asshole,” Cash muttered, staring at Twist coldly.

“one point,” Slim corrected, quietly. Twist caught him shooting an anxious glance in his direction, as if afraid the correction might upset him. “it’s… you didn’t do so well last round,” he told Twist.

An invisible itch crawled beneath Twist’s bones as Slim watched him. He ignored it, looking at the scorecard with a chuckle. “An’ the pup’s winnin’,” he remarked, running his knuckles over the top of Slim’s skull. “Guess yer more suited fer this Tale-verse stuff than the rest of us.”

Rus looked dubious, scowling at Twist. “really? you still consider this a tale-verse game? after how ruthless you were last round?”

Twist shrugged, throwing an arm over Slim’s shoulders. “Nothin’ wrong with bein’ Tale-verse, sweetheart. In fact—” He touched his teeth to the crown of Slim’s skull, a blush spreading across Slim’s cheekbones, “—consider it a compliment.” Releasing Slim, he looked back up at Rus, grinning. Dropping a chip onto the table, he added, “Oh, an’ I’ll bet one. Playin’ it safe this round.” He glanced at his cards. Considering his hand, one was probably a little overzealous. He scratched at the back of his skull, turning his head until the bones of his neck clicked. They still itched.

“well. zero for me,” Rus said. “it sounds like you all have really great hands.”

Twist snickered, glancing at Cash. “If I win this, maybe Patches’ll tell ya just how great my hands are.”

 As it turned out, Cash’s ambition paid off, putting him ahead of Twist. And when the game finally came to a sticky end, Twist was sorely behind everyone else. The anxious scrutiny of Edge and Slim was almost tangible on his bones, but he did his best to ignore it. Rus was watching him with poorly veiled amusement. “seems you aren’t very good at this ‘tale-verse bullshit’,” he said, giving Twist a mock-sympathetic smile.

Twist chuckled, waving him off. “Give me more time ta practice, an’ I’ll own every one of yer asses.”

“but, as it stands, i own yer ass,” Cash pointed out, the corner of his mouth turning up.

Twist lifted a brow bone. “Didn’t realise that was part a’ the deal—but I’m game.”

Cash seemed disappointed at Twist’s lacklustre reaction, his grin slipping. “don’t go thinkin’ i’m gonna give ya the satisfaction of a good fuckin’ tonight, darlin’,” Cash said, his eye flashing deviously.

Twist caught a glimpse of Edge and Slim exchanging a deliberate look, before Edge quickly cleared his throat, speaking up. “Well, technically—Slim won. So, he should be the one deciding what happens to Twist, shouldn’t he?” Edge met Cash’s gaze, narrowing his sockets. Slim glanced between Twist and Cash uncertainly, tugging his sleeves over his hands.

“eh, do what ya want ta the twisted bitch, slim,” Cash said, conceding with a nonchalant flick of his wrist. “i’m gonna head home. have fun cleanin’ up, assholes.” He watched Twist for a moment, a frown creeping across his features, before rising from his chair and teleporting from the room.

Edge regarded the spot he’d been standing in with a scowl. “Remind me why we keep him around?” he asked vaguely, standing and collecting the scattered cards and chips.

Twist shrugged, smirking at Edge. “He’s good in bed.” When Edge rolled his eyes, Twist turned to Slim. “Speakin’ of—what do ya want from me tonight, precious?” The blush that spread across Slim’s cheekbones excited the already frantic magic buzzing through Twist, and he had to clasp his hands together to prevent himself from doing something inappropriate.

“i—well…” Slim looked to Edge for support, seeming a little panicked. Edge only levelled his gaze with a small, but deliberate nod. Slim turned back to Twist, quickly smiling. “i though maybe you could… s-stay here.”

Twist blinked in surprise, lifting a brow bone. “Here? Uh, not so sure Rus would approve of us stealin’ his bed fer the night, but if that’s what ya really want…”

But Slim was shaking his head. Avoiding Twist’s gaze, he said, “no, i mean—i won’t be here. j-just… you and rus.”

Twist glanced at Rus, but he was looking just as taken aback as Twist felt. “i don’t recall agreeing to this,” Rus said, though he didn’t seem entirely averse to the idea, shooting Twist a grin.

“Well,” Edge said, clearing his throat with a frown, “the two of you have been eyeing each other for a fair portion of the evening….” Again, Edge’s eyes travelled to Slim, something unspoken passing between them. Twist smirked a little; subtlety never had been their strong suit. Though, he was almost inclined to thank them. Almost. Though spending time with Rus didn’t sound entirely unappealing, he didn’t like being manipulated.

The magic fluttering through him settled a little as he met Rus’s gaze across the table. His smile was soft—something so Tale-verse emanating from him. He probably wasn’t even aware of it. “I’m down if you are, sweetheart,” Twist said, shooting Rus a wink. “Though, I should warn ya, I’m feelin’ a little… handsy.” He flexed his wrists, as if to emphasize the point. In truth, keeping his joints moving helped prevent his unstable magic from congesting and building up. Too much concentrated magic was the perfect recipe for an outburst. And those seldom ended without a kill count.

“nothing i’ve ever been one to complain about,” Rus said, releasing a small laugh. He looked up at Edge, suspicion briefly colouring his expression. But Edge avoided his gaze, quickly turning to the sink and running water over the dirty dishes. Rus glanced back at Twist with lifted brow bones, but Twist only shook his head, rising from the table and walking to stand beside Edge.

Picking up a dishcloth, he said, “Here, Edgy. I’ll help ya.” Edge swallowed, glancing up at him. Twist’s fingers curled around the cloth a little too tightly, but he forced a grin. “It ain’t any trouble.” He turned to look at Slim. “Rus can walk ya home, puppy.”

Slim cast Edge an anxious glance, but Edge only gave him a stiff nod. Dipping his head, Slim shoved his hands in his pockets and headed for the door. Rus seemed a little perplexed, shooting Twist a strange look over his shoulder as he followed Slim.

Twist’s grin remained plastered across his face until they’d left. He then turned to Edge, allowing the expression to drop. “This some kinda game, Edgy?” he asked, pressing his tongue against the roof of his mouth. His magic seemed to burn within his bones, and he tipped his head back, vertebrae clicking.

Edge shook his head, giving a laboured sigh. His fingers scraped over the dish he was holding, and he dropped it into the sink before he spoke. “You’re not exactly good at hiding it, Twist.”

Twist snorted at the sheer irony of the comment. “An’ you an’ the pup are? What’re ya tryin’ ta do here, exactly?”

Edge held Twist’s gaze firmly, something frustrated burning beneath his expression. He closed his sockets for a moment, seeming to compose himself. “You reek of dust.” The comment spoke for itself, and Twist looked away, a hoarse chuckle leaving his throat.

His fingers itched and his spine tingled, his magic still rampant and uncontrolled. His soul seemed to weigh just a little too much in his chest; he felt hot. Tapping his knuckles against the countertop, he shrugged. “What’s yer point? Ain’t like it doesn’t happen every other week.”

Edge was silent for a beat, his eyes steady as he observed Twist. “Who was it?” he asked, eventually, his voice quiet.

Twist waved him off, turning to cross the room. “Someone in the wrong place at the wrong time. Ain’t it always?” He grinned at Edge over his shoulder, but Edge didn’t reciprocate.

He slowly approached Twist, his touch gentle as he rested a hand on Twist’s shoulder. “He helps, Twist. You know he does.”

“He does,” Twist admitted, thinking of the way Rus’s smile alone had been enough to temper the erratic magic inside of him. “Tale-verse bastard,” he muttered, with a dry laugh. His grip was tight on the countertop, and it took him a moment to realise he’d created dents in the wood. Pulling his hands away, he looked at Edge, exhaling heavily. “An’ if I snap? Doubt his HP’d be able ta take a hit.”

Edge nodded, grimacing. “I… I know.” He sighed wearily and pinched his nasal bridge. “I don’t like—I can’t be around him when I’ve—” The unspoken thought burned inside Twist’s skull. “But…” Edge looked up at Twist, a little more conviction in his eyes. “You just—you just need to let him in.”

Twist flexed his fingers, the joints clicking satisfyingly. Tipping his head back, he breathed deeply for a moment, closing his eyes. He could feel Edge watching him, but he focused on his breathing instead. He inhaled slowly, allowing the air to flow through his chest, his soul soaking in the oxygen. It marginally alleviated the tingle of the fresh EXP, the rattling of his raw nerves settling—just slightly.

“am i… interrupting something?”

Twist’s sockets snapped open, and he spun to see Rus standing in the kitchen doorway. He was smirking, amusement dancing in his eyes—completely oblivious to the true weight of the atmosphere. Edge looked anxious, a frown creasing his features. He opened his mouth to speak, but Twist cut him off. “Nah, the Edgelord was just tellin’ me the best way ta get ya ta moan fer me.”

Edge looked indignant, but Rus only lifted a brow bone, his smile widening. “thought you already knew how to do that?”

Twist shrugged. “Never hurts ta improve.” He turned to grin at Edge, but the remnants of their conversation lingered in Edge’s eyes. He watched Twist for a moment, calculating. Glancing quickly at Rus, Twist said, “Well, you goin’ ta give Rus an’ I some privacy, Edgelord?”

Edge frowned, scanning Twist’s features. He looked at Rus, who offered him nothing more than a shrug, his smile unwavering. “Yer welcome ta join us, if ya like,” Twist offered, grinning at Edge.

But Edge shook his head, pulling his shoulders up and making for the door. “That’s kind of you, but I’ll pass. I have things to take care of.” He hesitated at the door, looking between Twist and Rus, something uncertain in his expression.

Sensing Edge’s reluctance to leave him alone, Twist strode over to Rus, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and tucking him against his side. “Well, I have somethin’ I need ta take care of myself.” He pressed his teeth to the crown of Rus’s skull. Warmth, affection, and trust flowed from Rus immediately, and Twist’s chest seemed to unknot. He looked up at Edge, lifting a brow bone, as if to say ‘See? You have nothing to worry about.’

Edge was still frowning, but Twist could tell that some of the tension had left him. “Good,” he said, nodding. “I’ll leave you to it, then.” Before turning, he watched Rus for a moment, unmarred fondness in his expression. Twist squeezed Rus’s shoulder slightly, pulling him closer. Edge’s expression alone told Twist that he understood—he knew how good Rus could be in a situation like this. How much of a balm his mere presence could be to an LV-afflicted soul. How—despite how much of an asshole he could be—he was just so Tale-verse. Right now, Twist needed something a little Tale-verse. Something to keep him from plummeting into the abyss of his LOVE.

 When Twist climbed into bed beside Rus, his magic had settled considerably. The electric buzz of EXP still hummed in his soul, but it wasn’t as static and untethered. He felt… a little more in control.

Rus was dozing, but cracked open his sockets as Twist nuzzled against his neck. He laughed sleepily, looping an arm around Twist’s spine. “heya, twisted.”

“Honey,” Twist mumbled, inhaling Rus’s scent. Rus laughed softly, kissing Twist’s fingertips. Twist pressed himself against Rus’s back, his ribs flush with Rus’s spine. He rested his chin on Rus’s shoulder, wrapping his arms around Rus’s torso to ensure there was no distance between them. He hummed in appreciation as Rus began to purr softly, his aura warm and gentle.

Twist’s fingers hooked between Rus’s ribs as he soaked in the projections. Rus released a soft, breathy laugh, tilting his head to meet Twist’s eye. “we fucking?” he asked, smirking.

“Heh, I’m tempted, but… nah.” Twist nestled closer, until Rus was completely enveloped in his arms, their limbs tangled together. “I just wanna… stay like this.” He sighed as Rus melted against him, his projections amplifying and bathing Twist in tranquillity. “Yer so… so fuckin’ good, Tale-verse,” he breathed against Rus’s neck. “Yer so damn good.”

 Twist appreciated having Edge—and Slim, and Cash. They understood. They knew what living in that near-constant state of fear felt like. They wore their threats like a protective blanket—it soaked their auras in spite and hatred. They kept their love and compassion locked inside their souls—not there for everyone to see and feel. Buried beneath layers upon layers of hostility. It was necessary. And it was lonely.

But Rus lacked that veil of animosity. Being around him felt like being bathed in care, and affection, and love, and peace—everything good. And when Twist felt like he was teetering just a little too close to the edge—it was the perfect remedy to keep him from falling off it entirely. He needed this. He needed Rus.