Undertale Ship Idea
DustSans+BeastFrisk
Dust hears odd music coming from somewhere and desides to follow/find the source. Finally, at the base of a waterfall, finds BeastFrisk in odd with loose fabric performing this mesmerizing dance. Her movement are so smooth and slow, rarely speeding up. Took him a solid minute to release he was watching her so he decides to settle down in a more hidden and comfortable spot to watch her. Not wanting to disrupt her.
After a while, BeastFrisk finally finished her practice session. Dust was planning on introducing soon after, expecting her to get changed, to have a lot of his questions to be answered. It took him a little, but he finally recidised the culture of this dance. But then Dust hears the flapping of large wings. Before he noticed there it was, Sans, the sans of the AU he was in. This Sans was massive, black bones with Dragon-like features.
How unfortunat, the two started talking while BeastFrisk was gathering her things. She climbed up on BeastSans back and they just...... flew away. Dust could only watch, still..... hypnotized by the Beautiful Dance. Then and only then, it was decided, Dust wanted her. He wanted her all to himself were she would dance for him and only him, whenever he wanted. Like a bird in a cage, a special bird infact, that could do more then sing.
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fires of rage and coolness of death
A/N: area unknown smp has me by the throat, particularly the dynamic between scott and owen's characters. scowen my beloved. oh also the unnamed character isn't anyone specific bc there isn't really enough lore yet to pick someone who would have it out for owen lol. Edit: Quick psa- kindly refrain from commenting about boundaries. I have no intention of the cc's ever seeing this, nor do I want people pushing ships in their face. I wrote this for my own enjoyment, and for the enjoyment of anyone who is interested in this type of fic. If cc's happen to stumble across this on their own, fine. But seeing as this fic is properly tagged and I trust the cc's to navigate their own internet experience, I don't expect them to see this. If readers aren't comfortable with this fic, then don't read it. It is that simple. Additionally, I have been informed that au!Owen is aroace. However as an aroace person who is interested in romantic stuff myself, I am leaving this fic as is. Lack of attraction does not equal lack of interest in romantic (or otherwise) relationships!
Warnings: choking, blood, violence, murder, minor character death, minor injuries, sexual tension, fire
Summary: Someone hurts Owen. Scott doesn't let them get away with it.
AO3 Link
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The person fought weakly against his grip. Scott didn't know who they were, didn't care, all he knew is that they hurt the one thing he cared about. They had pushed Owen around earlier, taking advantage of the ghost's kindness and naivety. There had been a scuffle, a cut on Owen's cheek- and Scott saw red.
He saw a different red now, beading around his claws from where they dug into the attacker's neck. They futilely clawed at his wrist, but all that earned them was a tighter grip around their throat and Scott raising them higher into the air, until they were just below his eye level. No one deserved to be at his level after all- least of all the scum squirming desperately for life in his hands.
"Scott?" a voice asked from his tower entrance. Scott glanced over, and saw Owen drift in through the crimson vine curtain. The ghost's wide-eyed expression was mostly confused, with a tint of shock and horror. Scott just smiled- a rare gentle one, that only Owen ever got to see.
"Don't worry, pet. I wasn't just going to let this one get away. They certainly tried to- but I tracked them down and brought them here," Scott crooned. Owen's brows knitted together, and he frowned.
"But-"
"Have no fear- they'll never hurt you again," Scott murmured, voice trailing off into a growl as he tightened his grip again, and the attacker's throat finally gave way beneath his grip. Bones snapped and crunched beneath his hand, and the light behind their eyes dimmed. He dropped the body, frowning a little at the blood that stained his claws. Normally he didn't mind a little blood- in fact he usually relished it- but the blood of such filth wasn't worthy of touching him.
"You didn't have to do that," Owen said softly. Scott looked to him, eyes catching on the cut still sluggishly bleeding on his cheek. His blood was strange- a desaturated red color. Scott detested the sight of it, the reminder that someone had the gall to hurt what was his.
"Don't be ridiculous. Now, come here- let me get a look at that cut," Scott murmured. Owen didn't protest, letting Scott guide him to sit on top of the crafting table. Scott grabbed a potion of harming- a healing potion would only further harm the undead- and grabbed a cloth to apply it with. He gently dabbed at the cut with the potion-dampened cloth, murmuring an apology when Owen winced. Owen stayed silent throughout Scott tending to his injury, eyes focused on the corpse on Scott’s carpet.
"Do you think they'll come back as a ghost? Like me?" Owen asked, finally looking Scott in the eyes. Scott set down the cloth, hand coming up to tenderly cup Owen's face, thumb rubbing over his now healed cheek.
"If they do, I'll kill them again. You're safe with me, pet," Scott murmured. Owen looked up at him, an unreadable expression on his face.
"You love me," he said, a soft realization, but a certain one- no question in his voice. Scott jolted back a little, heat rushing to his face. He scrambled to compose himself- here he was, master of the demon realm, acting like a lovesick teenager.
"You are... important," Scott settled on. An amused twinkle came to Owen's eyes.
"It's alright if you can't say it yet. I know, and that's what matters, right?" Owen said, grinning. For a moment, Scott wanted to kiss that grin off his face. He wanted to feel the cool press of Owen's mouth against his own, a stark contrast to Scott’s own molten exterior. He wanted to press him against the wall, run his claws through his hair and take.
But he couldn’t. Not yet, at least. His brother had been foolish in so openly showing their attachments. Scott would not be the same. Even this moment was a risk, this brief closeness that Scott craved. But here their only witness was a corpse… no. As tempting as it was, Scott couldn’t. If he gave in to his desires in private, then next would come the urge to publicly display his affections. He couldn’t risk that.
"Scott?" Owen asked, voice soft, almost timid. A light flush painted his cheeks underneath Scott’s gaze. Scott blinked, shaking himself slightly.
"Of course that's what matters, pet," Scott replied, voice so low only Owen could hear it. Owen smiled, adoring and gentle. He tilted his head further into Scott’s hand, cool lips pressing a slow kiss to his palm. Scott felt like he was on fire, despite the fact that he was immune to flame. He drew his hand away from Owen's face before he did something foolish.
“Good! Now, what are we gonna do about that?” Owen asked, gesturing at the body on Scott’s carpet. Scott glanced over his shoulder, then back to Owen.
“We?” he asked, a little perplexed.
“Yeah, we! What, did you think I’d let you kill someone for me and not help you get rid of the body?” Owen scoffed. A wry smile came to Scott’s lips at the turn of phrase- no one “let” him do anything, he did whatever he pleased, heedless of what others wanted. (But maybe, for Owen, he’d do anything he asked- but that was an instinct Scott buried so deep that he almost didn’t know it was there, much less admit it).
“There is darkness in you,” Scott mused.
“Nahh, just happy to help you!” Owen replied with a bashful smile. Scott chuckled and shook his head, turning to root through his storage for a flint and steel.
Getting the body out of Scott’s tower was easy with the two of them. And maybe, just maybe, Scott allowed himself to watch the flickering light of the flames dance across Owen’s face as they burned the body. The smoke curled into the night sky, a signal, a warning. Don’t trifle with the demon, or his ghost.
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