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ginwhitlock · 3 years

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Southbound : Chapter 6

After the Cullens leave her behind, Bella is left to pick up the pieces by herself. A year after her eighteenth birthday, a split second decision lands her in her truck, running far away from everything she has ever known. She decides to go south. What will she find in San Angelo, Texas?

After Peter left, the air between us felt stagnant, cold, like a pond left uncovered in the first freeze of winter. The man in front of me didn’t smile, didn’t even fake a breath for my own comfort. I know he could feel the shard of glass slowly sinking into the pit of my stomach; the fact of its direction changing, resigning, surpassing my throat to lodge itself in my skull as a sharp ache not lost on me.

And I’m sure, not on him.

I knew Jasper. I had sat feet from him not even years before. What had changed in those aching months? What kind of lust seeped into his unbreakable bones since? This man was toothier, slumping shoulders spread wide against the settee. Who was this brother of his and why did he have Jasper now? I mean— he had explained just moments ago the short extent of Alice and his separation, but the questions were tar in my brainstem: unmoving, guilty, painful. The faint imprint memory of his hand on my knee softened the creases under my eyes. His eyes were nothing if not full of memories.

He scared the shit out of me. The worst part of me liked it.

The keys in my hand were jangling as I wrung my hands against the metal. They were ice cold from Peter’s grip and yet I never shied away from them, I rested into their cut, their steel mill scent. It’s all the comfort I had left in this unfamiliar sandy home.

“You never told me where you meant to end up, Isabella.”

The look on his face hadn’t changed from its hawk-like gaze, his mouth upturned in what was made to be sincere questioning.

My teeth seemed to buzz in my jaw as they clenched. I was stuck between trying to find the answer that made the most sense— but this far away haunted house was nowhere close to where I was headed. To be honest, I hadn’t even made a plan for my drive, the road had been a black licorice rope pulling me deeper and deeper south, its vines unswervable.

Those damn carmine irises were still on my face. My hand settled on the silver scar. “Somewhere without you— your kind.” There's a horrible dread that sinks deep into the pit of my lowest bones, down past the acid lining of my stomach. It wasn’t mine in the first place…

He smiled again. That fangy lip twitch he implemented earlier in his bedroom, his searing white canines glinting in the southern sun. Jasper did some twist of his knuckles as they rested on his denim knee, the bareness of the marble flesh punctuated.

“Do you truly think your life will not continue to be… supernatural?” He paused something big and let his lashes point away from me, his gaze settling right behind my head, “The world has never been that kind. Especially to you, Miss Swan.” The way his tongue curled around my name made something twist in my gut. Something that felt like finally breaching the top of a rollercoaster after clunking around in the seat for several minutes.

I took a breath, “No hope for me then, Mr. Cullen?”

“Whitlock, darlin. Mr. Whitlock.”

His correction was daring and quick, like a dare. The scared shitlessness was starting to turn.

“Oh?” I’m sure my eyes were the size of dinner plates served on the damn moon.

His quirk faltered as he refocused on the skin of my neck. “The Cullens aren’t the biggest fans of the ousted members keeping their name, I’m sure. Whitlock was my human name.”

My lip twitched, “Like Peter?” He did say they were brothers, it would make sense the tanner man kept it while Jasper stayed up north.

“He adopted it when I changed him in the twenties. He didn’t need to remember his own.”

The paint covering the living room walls was starting to feel warmer and warmer. There was a sort of mysticism in the air, the kind of feeling Phil said he got standing on the pitcher’s mound. This charge of electricity. And if I felt it— did the man in front of me do too?

“You changed Peter?”

A hum came from his Adam's apple. I quickly stopped staring at its vibration, focusing on my still hands. “Is that where you got that name? The ‘Major’?” My legs felt like salt blocks sat out for the new fawns.

Jasper kicked his foot out, inches from my own. “All in time, Isabella.”

Why the hell was that the question he kept dodging?

I nodded against my own snooping judgement and sat up straight, gripping the cut key again. “Peter said something about seeing my truck?” As if on cue the sound of a backfire sounding across at least an acre of dirt, the laugh of the man in question following in direct response.

He reminded me of a wilder, leaner, Emmett.

I didn't know if that was a good thing.

The blond rolled his eyes, something I would’ve passed out seeing months ago, which now just made him more and more intriguing. His hand raised without fantastical speed and made an ushering motion, inviting me silently to stand and follow him to the front door, not even twenty feet to our backs. I did as I… wasn't… told and raised to my shuffling feet, watching with barely suppressed intensity as he did the same, his shirt unbunching as his long legs swept past me. His strides were unhurried yet strong, quickly reaching the exit without me. Jasper’s slim fingers turned the knob gently and allowed the now open door to rest against his shoulder.

“I’m sure my brother will find you the moment you start walkin’. I have to get to some business caused by my early departure earlier.” My shoes scuffed the hardwood as I passed by him, the scent of firewood and malt whiskey light in the air of the threshold. I nodded again as I looked back at the giant southerner.

“So I’ll be making it back?” Half joking, half fearful the words slipped past my lips.

He smiled truly that time, his teeth hidden behind his smile. “Of course Isabella. No one plans to kill you… for as long as I can see.”

The door closed slowly as I turned away from him in only slight ease, the sound of his footsteps behind it unrecognizable. Texas dry wind called to me from the bare porch, wooden planks creaking ever so slightly underneath my weight. The world was quiet— in only a way nature could be quiet. Silence without loneliness.

Another diesel racket sounded over the slight hill in the property, some of the only patches clustered with shruby, overgrown trees.

“Bell!”

There was a smile hiding under the surface of my skin, not the least undetectable. My stride started up again as I half jogged through the crab grass and rusty dirt. It had to be almost two or three o’clock now, the sun high and bright in the cloudless sky.

Had the day gone by so fast— or so slow?

I couldn’t decide which it was. Not yet. Not now.

The baked exterior of my cab was just in sight over the small hill, somehow further away from the bare dirt trail than it had been this morning. Had the black eyed man… moved it? It didn’t run, at least not by my hand, he would’ve had to have pushed it… or picked it up.

God, Peter was starting to turn out more and more like the biggest Cullen boy by the second.

My shoes were caked in dead weeds and clay dust by the time I reached the freckled vampire— an attribute I still hadn’t made sense of. His cowboy hat was a stark black against his darkened porcelain skin. He smelt rough like a redwood forest, something private. Secluded. Peter’s hands were covered in the ink black of motor oil and grease, the solutions clinging to his perfect fingernails.

He had to be related to Jasper somehow, there's no way he wasn’t. I was sure of it.

Or maybe I was just hoping.

Silly girl.

His eyes could’ve mirrored his brother’s and I wouldn’t have noticed anything past the sight just behind him: my truck was pulled at the seams.

“Sorry bun, I think your baby might need some extra attention before it gets anywhere near a highway.” My breath was loose in my throat, air whistling behind my eyes. The transmission was the only thing complete under the hood. The engine block was propped up by a chain tied to a lone pecan tree, the rest of the assembly laid out on a blanket on the pitted ground. The well of tears hit the back of my eyes before he started to speak.

“I had to take the engine apart to diagnose the problem— something to do with some coils. It ain’t as bad as it looks, I promise, Bell.” I nodded for the fiftieth time that day, my words fleeting in the paralysing tunnel that had become my voice box. The only thing I had kept when I left was now in pieces at my feet, the soil unforgiving and rough against the cotton blanket they sat on. The downpour of fear came down my sinuses and filtered out through my spine, the tips of my fingers pulsing with thunder. Peter stood, apathetic to the storm raging through my body, his stance curling around my own slightly, as if in defense to the world around us, to the truth in front of me.

“How long will it take to fix?” My voice was weak and pitiful, stripped of its playful kick Peter initially instilled.

He twitched his shoulders in a shrug. “Could be a week or more. Maybe two.” His own speech didn’t reflect his burdening appearance. It was almost airy, a light glee hidden subtly behind the consonants.

My brain stored the small inflection for a much later time.

“You know,” he started, his massive wiped hand drawing to my shoulder, “me and the Major don’t mind some company around the house. The old thing could use some life in it while your truck gets some beauty work done.” His suggestion wouldn’t have sounded like such a question if anyone else had uttered it, but the draw of the Whitlock boys held a certain power over my otherwise powerless existence, at the moment. I wanted answers, stories, the in and outs of the clan I had called family as a younger girl.

I wouldn’t admit to anyone else my other wants.

Hell, I couldn’t even admit them to myself yet.

I made a sound in the back of my throat that made up for another nod and pursed my lips in false thought, the field stretching before me in an unwavering sea of curiosity.

“Only until she's fixed. I’ve served my time living with vampires for two lifetimes.”

There was an explosion of a laugh from Peter’s tan lips and I smiled in turn. The truck was a cesspool of terrifying possibilities, insecurities. But for right now, the horrible itch in my brain led me further into the immortal light.

The cold digits of the human drinker felt featherlight against my back as he sputtered to an airy stop. “You are truly something Bell.” My teeth poked through my lips as I looked into his face and found simple lineless skin and sandy curls. My eyes rested back on the rusted out birthday present and sighed. “Do you want any help?” It sounded almost like a plea, the time splitting me farther and farther.

He shook his head with vigor. “Baby doll, I’m not sure you’d make it go any faster.”

I had half a mind to slap him on the chest, no matter the bruising I’d sustain.

“I’m not that dimwitted.”

He sucked unneeded air through his teeth and let me go, stepping towards the hull. “Just believe me.”

I shook my head like a dumped dog and looked back towards the house, just barely noticeable at this distance. The question bounced around my stomach before it left my mouth, “What is Jasper up to?”

Peter raised a brow and picked up an impact wrench.

“I’m not sure you’d want to know.”

#southbound #my writing #jasper x bella #mine #writing #fanfiction #twilight #thetwilightsaga #twilight fanfic

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underfell-crystal · 3 years

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~I do not own any of the characters other than Crystal.~

~~~Chapter 5: Not Yours to Keep~~~

Sans' POV

Shit, shit, shit!! The kid was gone!! One minute she was there, and the next she was sprinting away like Asgore himself was after her. Sans had teleported to where he thought the kid would be, but for being so small, she was pretty damn elusive. He cursed under his breath, scanning the white ground for footprints, but found nothing. Another storm had started shortly after Crys bolted, and now it had covered all the tracks he could have used to find her. He groaned in frustration, rubbing an eyesocket. This kid was gonna be the death of him...

A shrill scream interrupted his thoughts. Sans' eyelights snapped to where the noise had come from, and in a blink he was there. He spun around, frantically looking about for Crys, and came face to face with Error- the Sans that was well known for destroying AUs and battling Ink Sans. Error looked caught off-guard for a moment, before his grin widened and his face settled into one of neutrality. "W̵e̷l̶l̷ ̷h̴e̵y̷a̵.̷.̷ ̴D̴i̶d̴n̴'̶t̴ ̴e̷x̶p̸e̶c̴t̸ ̸t̴o̸ ̷s̸e̷e̷ ̴y̸o̷u̶ ̵h̷e̶r̴e̶.̵.̶.̸"

Sans flexed his phalanges, restraining himself from strangling the glitchy bastard right then and there. His sockets narrowed at Error, his voice coming out a low growl. "Where's the kid?"

Error laughed. "I̷ ̷d̷o̵n̶'̸t̶ ̵s̶e̸e̵ ̷w̵h̶y̴ ̵y̶o̶u̸'̸d̷ ̶c̸a̵r̶e̴,̵ ̵R̷e̶d̷.̸"

"If you don't tell me where she is, I'll blast yer glitchy ass straight to the Void."

Error looked amused by his threat. "I̷s̷ ̴t̵h̵a̴t̶ ̴s̵o̸?̸ ̵H̴e̴h̷.̷.̴.̸.̷ ̷W̸e̷l̸l̵,̵ ̵i̸n̶ ̶t̷h̴a̷t̴ ̶c̶a̴s̷e̵.̷.̸.̷"

Error lifted his hand, and Sans became aware of the sudden humming building up behind him. He teleported out of the way as a glitched black beam of light seared the spot he'd been standing in a moment before. He let his red magic flow from his left eyesocket, summoning his own Gaster Blasters and firing them at Error. As Error dodged, Sans caught a glimpse of Crys laying in the- was that BLOOD?!

He teleported away from Error again, kneeling beside the kid and Checking her. 2 HP.... He was gonna fucking kill Error for this...

He used a barrage of bones to keep Error at bay while he fished around his jacket pockets for something, anything, edible to eat. Error howled in rage, and Sans barely deflected another blast from one of Error's Gaster Blasters. He found a single Monster Candy and quickly unwrapped it, fumbling with it before shoving it into Crys' mouth. Immediately, her HP went up, some of the gashes on her body healing. Although it wasn't maxed out, it was the best he was going to get right now. Sans picked her up and teleported behind a tree, hastily taking off his jacket and wrapping it around the unconscious child. He looked down at her before placing her on the ground gently. "Be right back, babybones... I gotta go dunk someone..."

Sans teleported again, behind Error. Error turned just in time to get a Gaster Blaster straight to the face. Error screeched and raised his hands to his face, fingers pulling on the blue strings attached to his sockets. Sans swore and teleported backwards as Error's strings lashed out at him. He tried to ignore the humming voice in the back of his mind that warned him that Crys could freeze to death, or get attacked by another monster while he was busy fighting Error. He couldn't afford to lose this battle.

It was only a few minutes later when another portal opened. This time, Ink Sans stepped through. He was dressed in his traditional brown attire, his belt of colors strapped to his chest, paintbrush in hand. While Sans hated to admit it, Ink was a very powerful monster, and he turned the tides in Sans' favor fairly quickly. Error vanished through a glitched portal with a final murderous glare at Sans and Ink with an angry hiss. Ink turned to Sans. "Well! That was odd! How ya doin', Fell?"

Sans grunted. "Fine, until that motherfucker showed up..."

Ink frowned slightly. "Why was Error here?"

"He's tryin' to kill a kid."

Ink's sockets widened into a shape that made it look like he was raising an eyebrow. "A kid? Was it a grey Frisk?"

Sans scowled. "I know who Core Frisk is, and it wasn't them. 'Ve actually never seen this kid... Wait here. I'll go get her."

Sans teleported away, and a moment later he reappeared in front of Ink, clutching Crys to his chest. Ink moved closer and examined her, frowning. "I've never seen this human before in any AU.... Where is she from?"

Sans shrugged. "Dunno..."

Ink frowned again. "Fell, listen.... Error's been going crazy on the AUs the past day."

"So?"

"So.... I'm saying that this kid might be the reason Error was attacking so many AUs. The residents of the attacked AUs did say he kept telling them to 'give him the kid'."

Sans stared at Ink. Ink sighed and held out his arms. "Fell, just give m-"

"N O."

His growl made Ink pause. Ink frowned. "Fell, the AUs are suffering! Error will stop attacking them when he gets that kid!"

Sans snarled, gripping the tiny human child tighter to his chest. "Yer seriously gonna give that fuckin' psycho an innocent KID?!"

Ink glared at him. "Fell, her AU is probably already gone! She's not yours to keep!"

Sans hissed again. "I found her, an' she has nowhere else to go. You can dig her outta my DUST if ya want her that much!"

Ink sighed in frustration. "Fell, you've met this kid, what, ONE day ago?!"

"It doesn't matter when I fuckin' found her, what matters is yer tryin' ta sacrifice a goddamn BABY to that asshole!!"

"A single child shouldn't be above entire universes, Fell!"

"You can take yer universes and shove them up yer pelvis, fucker!"

Sans teleported back to his room before he did something rash and attack Ink. The last thing he needed was to seriously piss off Ink, if he hadn't done so already. Crys shifted in his arms, and Sans looked down at her. He quickly set her on the bed and teleported downstairs to get more food for her to eat. He tried not to think about how willing Ink was to sacrifice Crys to that glitchy bastard without even knowing what she'd gone through. He began healing her back to her full HP, focusing on the problem at hand. Once she had been fully healed, he gently removed her from his jacket and tossed it into the pile of dirty clothes in the corner. He could wash it out later. He picked her up and laid back on the bed, resting her on his chest. He could hear her heartbeat- faint, but even and strong. So peaceful... and calm.... He sighed, running his phalanges through her tangled hair. He'd deal with the consequences of pissing off Ink and Error later.... Right now he needed to sleep. He closed his eyesockets, and fell into a fitful slumber.

First Previous

~Chapter 5 is done!! Feel free to voice your thoughts and opinions about the characters and story, make headcanons, send art, or just say hi in my ask box! Thank you for reading, my gems!~

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rosescries · 4 years

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Somewhere Over the Rainbow

I really liked the last Babybones one-shot I did, so I’m doing another one. If you missed the last one, here it is! I hope this works.

Another reader-insert. No OC.

Sooooo yeah. Here ya go. Story under the cut.

Undertale AU: Baby Swapfell bros this time!

Content warning! There is mentioned violence against children and implied child abuse. This is a fell verse.

..................

Sans doesn’t know why he trusted you. Maybe it was his naïve, childish hope for it to be different than it was with Gaster. His naïve, childish hope to have a loving parent that helps him and cares for his babybones brother. For someone that can care for Papyrus better than he’d be able to and provide a better life for him. After all, he’s still just a child too. A smart one for sure, but a child none the less. He can't provide what Papyrus deserves.

And you are different from Gaster. You don’t force them to fight. You don’t hurt them. You don't put them through painful experiments or force them to do things they don't want to do. Despite the kill or be killed world, you care for them like they're your own and let them be children. Though you still caution them whenever outside, making them stick to you and carrying one of them- mostly Papyrus as Sans hates being carried- when necessary. Biting back at anyone that dares to look at you or them with the ferociousness of a bear protecting its cubs. Though Sans can't really fault you for that, especially considering the world you all live in.

...You make him feel like he’s.... family. And his baby brother certainly likes you. That much is very clear.

Sans peaks around the bedroom doorway, electric purple eye lights trained on you as you hold Papyrus in your lap. He’s smiling bright, holding onto your fingers as you sing to him. You always said you heard it from a human movie you found in the dump and it brings you hope. Hope for what, he isn't sure. But it is a rather soothing song, he supposes.

“Somewhere over the rainbow, way up high

There’s a land that I heard of once in a lullaby, I

Oh, somewhere over the rainbow skies are blue

Clouds high over the rainbow, makes all your dreams come true, ooh

Someday I’ll wish upon a star

Wake up where clouds are far behind me

Where trouble melts like lemon drops

High above the chimney top

That’s where you’ll find me, oh.”

Sans leans his head against the door frame, watching as Papyrus yawns. His sharp little baby teeth clacking back together as he leans more onto you, completely happy with the cuddle session currently taking place. You smile, scared face soft and kind as your eyes are trained on the baby skeleton, hugging him just a little tighter. Appearing just as happy as his little brother.

You lift him off your legs and place him against your chest instead, laying back against the mountain of pillows on the bed. Papyrus’ small, clawed hands find use in clinging to your shirt, more than happy to cuddle against you. Sans can see the smile on his face, practically able to see the happiness radiating off his younger brother.

Sans really didn’t think this could be real. A part of him is just waiting for it all to come crashing down, for this little safe haven to turn into the hell he’s so familiar with.

He's still able to perfectly remember the things Gaster did to him, the pain those experiments caused. He can still remember the first time he laid his eye lights on Papyrus, his baby brother. He still remembers how angry he got hearing the things Gaster wanted to do to him. He still remembers the fight it took to escape him and the lab with his baby brother in tow. Something that gave him a few more scars that he'd like to forget.

His promise to the baby to care for him, to always protect him from whatever comes for them.

He put up a fight against you. He really did. When you grabbed him by the back of his stripped sweater after trying to steal some food from your bags, not very much but just something to feed his baby brother. Even as a child his magic was still stronger than yours, but he stupidly got cocky. And you were able to pin him down, unable to escape. And Papyrus stumbling over on legs that aren't quite used to walking yet when he saw that, your eyes locking onto the babybones.

For the first time in a long time, Sans felt scared.

He thought he was dust. That he failed to protect Papyrus and that he was about to be dust too. But... you just started talking to him instead, asking him questions instead of landing the finishing blow. Barely even acknowledging Papyrus tugging on your arm to try and get you to release his older brother, not even pushing him off yourself.

“Why were you trying to steal from me?”

“Where’s your parents, kid?”

“You’re alone with a baby?”

He couldn’t tell what was going on in your head. But you let him up after some probing, giving him the food he was trying to steal from you and even giving Papyrus a bit of candy to go with it. Even teaching him the proper way to steal and not get caught doing it. Not that he actually needed to steal anymore since you kept coming back with more food nearly every day.

He was confused and more than a bit weary and frightened. His only experience with adult monsters had been hostile. They were never nice or caring or sympathetic. They never went out of their way to even try to help him. Even other children tried to attack him and dust him and his brother.

He didn’t get what your plan was.

And then... one day... he got caught stealing again. This monster wasn’t so merciful.

The monster attacked him. Sans attacked him right back, sending a flurry of bones at the older monster and dodging every attack aimed at him. Sans knew how to fight, he knew how to dodge. He wasn’t inexperienced and ever since his fight with you, he didn’t allow himself to underestimate his opponent.

But this monster wasn’t strong. He was easily dodging his attacks and wasn’t expecting that much of a fight. He didn’t expect the backhanded attack from behind. And he was pinned again, in pain from taking damage with such a low HP. He couldn't move or dodge easily anymore.... Sans didn’t expect to make it out of this fight. And his only thought was of his baby brother waiting back where he hid him.. alone..

But then... the monster was thrown off him... And you were standing there in front of him. Eyes blazing with anger and magic buzzing at your fingertips, making Sans' eyes widen at the sight. To his surprise, you protected him fiercely, even if your magic wasn’t that strong either. You got hurt, you almost got dusted. But in the end, the dust spread that night wasn’t yours.

And Sans and Papyrus weren’t homeless anymore.

You brought them to your home and patched him up, giving them a warm meal afterwards. Wouldn't let them leave until Sans was completely healed and drew it out until he finally agreed to stay, though most of that decision was that result of Papyrus' puppy dog eye sockets. Papyrus adjusted a lot easier than Sans did, though he warmed up to you quickly anyway. And Sans does admit, the warm bed is better than what they used to have.

“Sans.” Your voice makes the young skeleton jump, looking up to see you staring right at him again. You smile, beckoning him to join you and Papyrus on your bed. He does, climbing up onto the bed beside you and leaning against the pillows. Eye lights mostly focused on his baby brother. And you continue to softly sing to both of them, rocking an almost asleep Papyrus in your arms.

“Somewhere over the rainbow, blue birds fly

Birds fly over the rainbow

Oh why, oh why can’t I? I

I see trees of green and red roses too

I’ll watch them bloom just for me and you

And I think to myself

Oh, what a wonderful world.”

#undertale #undertale aus #swapfell #babybones #sans #papyrus #au sans #au papyrus #reader insert #rosey writes #i had no clue what i was doing #i just enjoyed where my mind took me #oh well #i had fun #enjoy #thanks for reading

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keelywolfe · 4 years

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FIC: What Will Be, Will Be

Summary: Unprecedented situations require a strong response. It's a shame Edge isn't sure what it is.

Tags: Spicyhoney, Brotherly Relationships, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Pregnancy

Notes: I don't think I've ever written a pregnancy story before. But I am currently wretchedly sick with a cold and I get weird ideas when I'm sick, so make of it what you will!

~~*~~

Read it on AO3

Read it here!

~~*~~

“I’m going to Underswap.”

Red didn’t offer his opinion on that announcement. His crimson gaze focused on the television where Mettaton was blazing across the screen. In fact, he hadn’t offered his opinion on the entire situation, not once. When Edge told him, his brother only nodded curtly and hadn’t offered a word. That in itself was unprecedented; Red interjected his opinion loudly and often, whether or not anyone actually wanted it.

But then, the situation was also unprecedented, wasn’t it.

In the past two days since Edge told him, they’d barely spoken. The only words between them were curtly spoken guard reports and Red didn’t seem inclined to change that now.

Edge still hesitated at the door, waiting. Whatever the population of Underfell thought of their relationship, behind closed doors Edge considered them to be close and if they were harsher with each other than the other Universes, well, that was a consequence of growing up here. Location, location, location, as Sans once said, it did make a difference.

When his brother only kept his silence, Edge turned away and out the door. He took the time to secure every lock before walking behind their house to the basement and the machine. Red was more than capable of handling himself. It didn’t mean Edge wanted him to be ambushed by some foolish LV-hungry Monster who was merely observant enough to notice him not locking a door.

The trip through the portal was always chilling, worse than the most miserable snowstorm. Edge shook away that icy-cold and headed up the stairs. He didn’t pause until he reached the door to the Underswap brother’s home and only there did he hesitate.

He should have called ahead of time. In Underfell, showing up anywhere unannounced could be a quick journey into a dust pile, but that wasn’t a problem here. The only danger was one of poor manners and that was a risk he’d have to take. Because the truth was, he’d come without calling because he wasn’t sure of his welcome.

Hesitance was not in Edge’s nature and it didn’t slow him for long. He knocked briskly and as the door swung open, he braced himself for a greeting that might rival the void in coldness. If it was, it was a chilliness he’d earned.

But Blue’s smile was as kind as before. His voice was softer than normal as he said, “Edge, come in. Papy is resting.”

Blue opened the door wider to reveal his brother haphazardly sprawled on the sofa, obviously asleep.

Of course he would pick exactly the wrong time to come. That uncommon hesitance surged back and instead of risking waking him by speaking, Edge signed, I’ll go.

“No, no, Papy can sleep through anything,” Blue chuckled. It was still softer than his normal exuberance. “Come in, sit, I’ll make some tea.”

Blue turned away and disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Edge to shut the door behind him. He pulled off his boots, lining them up by the door before padding silently over to sofa in his stocking feet. Blue’s prediction about his brother seemed correct; Rus was sleeping deeply, sockets closed, a slim line of orange drool trickling from his slack mouth, one arm trailing off the cushions to the floor.

Gingerly, Edge lifted that arm back up, settling it at Rus’s side. He didn’t so much as sigh, only slept on, each breath hinting at a snore.

Edge sat on the floor next to the sofa, watching Rus sleep. There were faint shadows beneath his sockets. More than that, he simply looked tired, likely caused by the little soul growing next to his own.

“look, you don’t need to do anything, all right? i’ll take care of it. i just thought i should let you know.”

The kitchen door swung open again, Blue coming out with a tray holding a teapot and cups. He hesitated visibly, a look of complicated surprise crossing his face, and Edge realized he likely meant for him to sit in one of the chairs, not on the floor like a mongrel. He recovered before Edge could move and apologize for his gaffe, setting the tray on the coffee table.

“He’s been napping a lot lately,” Blue said, hushed. “Undyne says he’ll get his energy back in a few weeks. Well, as much as he ever had.”

That answered the question Edge wasn’t going to ask. Rus was going to keep the little souling, let it form into a child. It was Rus’s choice to make and Edge wasn’t sure how to feel about it, yet.

Gracious host that he was, Blue poured out the tea, adding a single sugar cube to Edge’s before handing it over with a smile. Edge took the cup with a nod of thanks, staring into the pale brown depths. Always so polite. He wasn’t sure he could be half as mannerly to the Monster who carelessly impregnated his brother

“I don’t know what to do.” The words burst free in a whispered rush. The cup Blue was lifting to his own mouth hesitated, returning to its place on his saucer as its owner looked at Edge with wide, startled eye sockets.

His stupid, fool mouth went on, “We were casual and occasional. We never planned for this.”

Fuck. Edge took a desperate gulp of his tea, silencing himself. He shouldn’t be telling this to Blue, he would hardly want to know about his brother’s sexual proclivities. And it wasn’t entirely true, was it; sharing souls while having sex was a gamble, they’d never needed to do such a thing. It was reckless, foolish, and he’d done it knowing there would be a chance.

Sweet person that he was, Blue only nodded encouragingly for him to go on. Haltingly, Edge did, and it felt like his soul was rising into his throat, nearly choking him.

“It was safer that way. Safer for him. My world is dangerous and I thought if we didn’t put a name to it, if it was nothing permanent... I was trying to protect him, a little at least.” Because if it was only sex, passing moments of pleasure, if Rus didn’t love him, he wouldn’t be too hurt if when Edge dies. They should never have begun from the start, Red might be keeping his opinions to himself now, but he’d been very clear when Edge and Rus started sleeping together, in wincingly vulgar terms. It shouldn’t have been, couldn’t be.

But now there was to be a child.

Blue set his cup and saucer on the table, the fine china clinking softly. “I can understand that. But I’m not sure it works,” he offered quietly. “Maybe you fall in love with each other anyway, only you’re afraid to say it.” He tilted his head, considering, “Let me ask you something. Do you want to be a parent?”

“I don’t know.” Perhaps it was the wrong answer, but at least it was honest. When Rus first told him, he hadn’t been able to say a word, honest or not. He’d sat in silence as Rus walked back out the door, numbly trying to wrap his mind around the very idea.

Blue gave him a little smile. “That’s fair. Papy has an unfair advantage, you know. He’s well aware of what trouble a baby can be. That’s a lesson I unintentionally taught him.” He reached over to lay a gentle hand on Edge’s shoulder, squeezing lightly. Then he went back to his cooling tea, draining the cup. “Well! You still have some time to think about it.” He busied himself cleaning up the teapot and cups, then paused, adding softly, “Edge? Whatever you decide, you know that my brother and I will take good care of the baby, don’t you? That’s one worry you can set aside.”

He did. But the thought did not soothe his churning emotions.

On the sofa, Rus stirred and Blue chose that moment to carry the tray back to the kitchen, leaving them alone. Almost, Edge called him back, panic rising, but it was too late to flee as Rus yawned, his sockets opening.

“edge?” Rus said, sleepily. He absently wiped at his mouth with his sleeve as his sockets fluttered. His eye lights were white, colorless, unlike Edge’s crimson or Blue’s starry blue-yellow. Perhaps others would think them plain, but Edge always thought they were lovely, delicately pure. They widened as Rus woke up a little more, blinking at him, “what are you doing here?”

His traitorous mouth, so eager to spill his thoughts to Blue, blanked when confronted with Rus. Edge’s mouth worked silently for an embarrassing amount of time before he blurted out, “I know you said I don’t need to do anything. But I wish I could.”

“i...okay.” Rus said, bewildered. “um, like, you want to rub my feet or something? that’d be kinda nice, ‘cause i have been feeling a little bonely lately.”

A smile twitched at the corners of Edge’s mouth at the sheer ridiculousness of that. Why had he never noticed before that Rus could make him smile in the strangest of moments. Suddenly, the words were easy to say, without any unintentional babble. “I’d like to help you parent our child.”

“oh, that.” Rus stretched, arms and legs both extending, and he groaned in appreciation at the series of gratifying joint pops.

Edge leaned back, oddly offended, “Yes, that!”

“please,” Rus said, waving a hand dismissively. “i knew you’d want that, once you calmed down a little.” His mouth curved into a faint smile. “gotta say, you did it faster than i thought.”

Edge was still suspicious that he should be offended by that, but... “Can I--” he wasn’t sure how to ask.

But again, Rus proved he knew him better than Edge suspected. “can you see? sure.”

With one hand, Rus dragged the hem of his shirt up to his collarbone. His soul was already summoned; that alone was a distracting sight, seen one other time before in a haze of desperate pleasure. Purest silver, delicately curved and lit from within and...there. A brilliant mote was orbiting Rus’s soul like a tiny moon. In a few weeks, it would descend into his abdominal cavity and Rus’s magic would form around it, cradling the little soul until it was ready to be born.

Their child.

Edge cupped Rus’s face with shaking hands, stroking his cheek bones with his thumbs as he kissed him softly, trying in some way to offer him the tremulous emotions rising in his own soul, ones that couldn’t be spoken, not yet. He thought perhaps from the way Rus kissed him back that he understood.

He still wasn’t sure what he was doing, how they would manage. He still didn’t know how to deal with his brother, but Edge was here for this.

They’d figure it out as they went.

tbc

Read Chapter 2

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus

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lover-of-skellies · 4 years

Text

A Way Out

((An OC insert where my girl Adrienne loses everyone she's ever cared for and has to face off with Chara. She would've lost too, if it wasn't for the guardian of negativity himself, deciding to intervene and save her ass. She's healed up and taken back to the castle, and when she wakes up, he has what seems like the best offer she's ever been given. Does she shake his hand and accept the offer, or does she refuse and die?))

***CONTAINS FIGHTING, BLOOD, VIOLENCE, KNIVES, CHARA, AND TEMPORARY EYE LOSS***

Adrienne had felt her heart sink at the unfortunate discovery she'd made; the dust scattered over the snow, pieces of armor, and an all too familiar tattered red scarf. Tears pricked at her eyes and a lump formed in her throat as she reached out, her shaky hands delicately plucking the scarf from the snow. She gently brushed the snow and loose dust off of it, then wrapped the item around her slender neck in the same fashion she'd always seen Papyrus wearing it, briefly glancing down at the ground. At the sight of tracks clearly left by sneakers, her eyes widened, tears now freely rolling down her face.

She knew exactly whose sneakers left the trail, and her heart sank even further. Not wanting to waste another moment, she began to race toward judgement hall; from having visited a few times before, it was fairly easy to find. As she reached the hall, she sucked in a deep breath, placing a hand on the large wooden door and pushing it open.

And she immediately wished she hadn't.

Aside from leftover bone attacks made by Sans and the fallen human's blood, she let out a choked sob; at the far end of the hall, there was an unmistakable pile of dust, and what was clearly her best friend's favorite jacket. Grey eyes widening again, she ran to where the jacket laid, falling to her knees and gently running her fingertips over the fur lined hood. Her heart broke as the realization finally sunk in; she'd lost two of the only people she had ever truly cared for.

It began with Queen Toriel, and was followed later by King Asgore, Undyne, Alphys, Mettaton, Grillby, and even Flowey. Not even the innocent monster children had been spared, and the fallen human had left everything in ruin. Not a single monster remained.

Scooping up the jacket and hugging it close to her chest, she let out a loud, broken sob, her voice echoing fainting in the vastness of the corridor. Wailing in agony as she mourned her lost friends, she failed to notice the figure approaching behind her.

Hearing the absolutely deep sigh, she found herself scooting away from its source, clinging to Sans' jacket as if it were a lifeline. The figure peered at her through glowing crimson eyes that were partially shrouded by a brown fringe. Once a normal child, it's lips were now curled upward into an amused grin, "And then there was one. Hold still, girlie, and I'll make this quick."

This wasn't a child anymore... whatever it was, it was the physical embodiment of evil itself.

Adrienne loosened her grip on the jacket, her body trembling as she slowly slid the item on and zipped it up, careful not to snag Papyrus' scarf. Rearranging her look of complete brokenness into a weak attempt at defiance, she growled softly, teeth bared, "You.... What have you done?"

Casually shrugging and holding up a knife, the figure smiled again, tilting its head, "I killed them, you dummy. With all the blood and dust, what else could I have done?"

She could hardly believe how casual and relaxed this being was; they admitted to murdering everyone she'd ever loved, and they spoke of it as if it was nothing more than a mundane task. Her stomach churned, and she hissed, "You're the worst... How could you do something like this? What did they ever do to you?.... All... all my friends are gone now, because of you."

Humming softly in confirmation, the figure only grinned proudly, completely devoid of remorse and regret, "I know. I did it because I wanted to... didn't think I really needed a reason."

The teen rose to her feet, balling her hands into fists, "If you keep talking like that, I'm gonna kill you. Unless you have something constructive to say, shut the fuck up." Still totally at ease, the figure raised an eyebrow, "Wow, that wasn't very nice, y'know." It took a step closer to her, and in response, she took a step back, her attention focused entirely on the entity before her. Sighing, the figure made a face, seeming to be contemplating something before speaking, "Something constructive, let's see... well, our buddy Papyrus, for starters. You wouldn't believe how much of a fight he put up. If I was even a little bit careless, he would've had me. And then Sans... well. We know how Sans can be. He saw what was left of his baby brother, and he came at me with all he had. It didn't take long for him to run out of magic. If it helps you feel better though, he was thinking about you when he was turning to dust. He called out to Papyrus, and then he called out to you... you must be pretty special to him, huh?"

Adrienne felt her bottom lip tremble as she stared at the figure, her disbelief fading and giving way to grief. She allowed herself another moment of silence, more tears rolling down her cheeks, before her left eye suddenly flared up, igniting with her magic as her look of sadness shifted into a scowl, her voice calm and unexpectedly even, "...You have until the count of three to get out of my sight. If I reach three, you're dead."

The figure, visibly intrigued by her now glowing eye hummed, lips curling into a devious grin, "Well well, that's a pretty eye you've got there. When I kill you, maybe I'll take it for myself." Adrienne scoffed, choosing not to respond as she began her countdown.

"One."

The figure remained where they stood, still wearing the same stupid, smug, evil grin. Totally unphased by the situation.

"Two."

As a multitude of bone attacks and icicles began to form, the figures grin started to falter and they unconsciously took a step back away from her, suddenly appearing much less confident than before, "Hey... What the hell is all this about?"

Their question went unanswered, and her eye began glowing much brighter, "Three."

All of the attacks shot at the figure at once, several of them managing to impale their small, deceptively fragile form.

Adrienne flipped the hood of the jacket up over her face, her voice shaking as she approached the figure, stuffing her hands into her pockets, "I warned you, brat... don't you ever come back here again." Her moment of silence didn't last, interrupted by the faint sound of buzzing, resembling the whir of a machine somewhere. Summoning more bone shaped ice attacks, she slowly turned to look around, surveying her surroundings.

What she wasn't prepared for though was the figure she'd just killed, standing several meters away and grinning at her, in perfectly good condition again. It must've seen the confusion and disbelief written on her face, laughing softly, "Resetting is such a wonderful little skill I have... sure, you can kill me if you want, but no matter how many times you cut me down, I'll always come back. That's something Sans had to learn the hard way too." She launched her ice attack, but this time, the figure dodged and darted at her with an unforeseeable amount of speed, her eyes widening in fear as she sidestepped the first attack, grabbing the figure by its wrist and trying to turn the blade against it instead of herself. Then to her horror, multiple other knives, all glowing a vibrant shade of red, began to materialize in the air around her. She tried to release her grip on the figures wrist, but to no avail. No matter what she did, she couldn't make her hand let go of the figure.

As the blades all slowly turned to aim at her, the figure grinned, their facial features contorting into what she could only describe as a demonic expression. Her heart began to race, and the figure tilted its head, amused as the first knife came sailing downward and plunging into one of her arms, earning a shrill scream from her. The blade had pierced her arm, and she screamed again as it ripped through the opposite side of her arm as well, blood immediately beginning to seep out of the injury. A second knife flew at her as well, sheathing itself in her back, dangerously close to her spine. Another scream tore out of her again and she sobbed brokenly, in too much shock to move her body.

The figure grinned maliciously, moving closer and resting a hand on her face, gently shushing her. When she became louder instead, she felt a sharp pain in her left eye; the figure scowled at her, their thumb now almost fully lodged in her socket, "I asked you nicely to shut up. No one wants to hear your pathetic whining." Screaming again as they scraped a nail against the back of her socket, a familiar warm, red substance ran down her face, she felt her body twitch, all of her partially materialized ice attacks dropping to the floor.

The figure watched her quietly for a moment before almost purring, refusing to remove their thumb from her socket, "And here I thought you might actually be a challenge. Tch. Shame... I'm disappointed in you. I'm sure your beloved skeletons would be pretty let down too." Squeezing her good eye shut, she whimpered, her tears seeming to multiply as she weakly whispered, her voice trembling, "If you're gonna kill me, then do it already, damnit."

A third knife came sailing down, sinking its blade into one of her thighs and earning another pained scream. The figure scoffed at her, raising an eyebrow, "Since when were you the one in control here?"

Before she was able to form a reply, a black mass appeared, phasing out of the shadows and watching the two of them with a single cyan eye, clearly interested in what was happening. A tendril coated by what looked to be tar shot out from the mass, wrapping tightly around the figures neck and roughly yanking them backward, causing Adrienne to collapse on the ground, yelping in pain and pressing a hand over her empty socket. Hearing the sounds of another battle, she turned her attention away from the figure and the odd black mass, looking toward the pile of dust that used to be her best friend.

She blinked, silently weeping as his form appeared. Though ghostly in appearance, he offered her a warm, sharp-toothed grin, his single gold tooth glinting under the light of the hall. Letting out a soft sigh, the apparition offered her a hand, his gruff voice low, "C'mon kiddo... Let's get your ass back to bed. It's late, y'know."

Her voice shook, only coming out as a whisper as she raised a hand and reached out to the apparition of Sans, "I know, Sans... 'm sorry I left..." As her vision became blurry, the apparition solidified, but she could've sworn she watched it turn black.

Feeling each of the knives be removed from her body, she could only whimper, too weak to fight as the black mass moved closer, the warmth of healing magic surrounding her wounds and sealing them up. Her eye had even been restored, much to her pleasant surprise. She was lifted up by an inky tendril, drifting in and out of consciousness as she was carried out of the hall.

Beginning to awaken later on, she slowly sat up and rubbed her eyes, squinting as she took in her surroundings; she was in a luxurious black and deep purple bed with satin and silk covers, and there was so little lighting that it was nearly impossible to see. Goosebumps prickled at her skin and her heart stopped as she looked down at herself, seeing that her scarf and jacket had vanished. Eyes wide as she began to panic, she pulled the covers back and slid out of bed, taking a single step and yelping as the muscles in her legs convulsed, giving out beneath her. Before she had a chance to hit the thinly carpeted floor, some unknown object looped around her waist, easily catching her.

Though she was relieved, she was also unnerved; who could've caught her? The room was so dark, so how could this mystery person have been able to see where she was?

A deep chuckle could be heard from in front of her and a chill ran down her spine. As a single cyan eye opened and cast it's eerie glow down on her, she froze, immediately remembering the battle in judgement hall. At a loss for words, she could only stare, watching as the goop covered skeleton cocked his head to the side, "If you wanted these so badly, you could've just asked, little one." A tendril snaked out from behind him, her jacket and scarf held loosely in its grasp. Despite the feeling of another tendril still around her waist, she acted on impulse, reaching out to the items of clothing, desperation crossing her expression. The black mass simply tsked and moved her closer to himself with the first tendril, lifting her again so they could be eye level with each other, "Ah ah, not yet. I'll return them to you, but you have to answer some questions first. Do you think you could do that?" Adrienne swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded slowly. Pleased with her compliance, he hummed, "Good... That'll only make things easier. You're in no shape to fight anytime soon, and I really wouldn't want to have to hurt you." Her eyes widened and her pulse quickened, earning another chuckle from him, "You're adorable this way... maybe I'll keep you around. Who knows. Either way, do you have a name?"

The teen nodded again, her voice barely audible, "...Adrienne. My name is Adrienne." "'Dark one', huh?... That's interesting. Now tell me, what were you doing when I found you in that hall?" Memories flickered in her mind and she cleared her throat, hesitating a brief moment, "I was trying to avenge my friends. That human... the one I was fighting. They killed everyone, everyone I had ever cared for. I was alone and upset, and I wanted to make the fallen human pay." The mass made a soft sound of understanding, listening intently before posing another question, "The people you lost... what were they to you? Just friends and acquaintances? No mate, by any chance?" Cheeks flushing a faint shade of pink, she shook her head, "No, I didn't have a mate... they were all my friends, and some of them were even like family to me, though. They cared for me when no one else would."

Tugging her closer to himself, he lowered his voice slightly, "I see. If you could get them back, how much would you be willing to sacrifice?" The teen furrowed her brow, "I'd give anything. If it meant I could get them back and that I wouldn't lose any of them again, I'd even give up parts of myself." A clearly interested, satisfied purr rumbled in his chest as he pressed further, "Would you be willing to sacrifice your humanity?... All your morals and concerns, all your logic and your fear? Your soul, perhaps?" Frown deepening, she nodded slowly, her voice a whisper, "Yes. If I could have back the monsters I love, then I'd give all of it away. I'm nothing without them."

The black mass grinned widely, offering her a bony hand, "My name is Nightmare, and I can make that happen. All you have to do is shake my hand, Adrienne." She stared at his hand for a moment, clearly hesitant to do as he'd asked. Grin faltering, he sighed, "I can feel how sad and lonely you are without them, and I know you're scared. In order to get them back though, you must trust me. As of right now, I mean you no harm. I'm your ally here, and I protect my own. You'll be safe, and you'll be with me, along with others that can understand the pain you're feeling. You won't be alone anymore." Hope blossomed in her chest and she looked back at him, meeting his gaze, "If I agree, you promise you'll get back my friends?" The goop covered skeleton hummed in confirmation, "Of course, little one. It's a promise." Sucking in a deep breath, she reached out and shook his hand.

Tightening his grip on her hand, he pulled her closer, delicately pushing her hair back out of her face to examine her eye, "I'm so glad you agreed... You won't regret this, Adrienne. I'll need to change the mark on your eye though. It'll be my mark instead of the old one, and even though it'll be different, your magic will remain totally unaffected." She hummed softly in understanding, trying her best to hold still as he continued observing her eye. Then to her surprise, his pointer finger and thumb shifted, holding her eye wide open as a third tendril appeared, drifting closer to her face. Feeling her anxiety spike, Nightmare smiled slightly, "Don't move, alright? It may sting and cause your eye to water up, but that's normal and the stinging will eventually go away."

She took a deep breath, doing her best to relax again as she listened quietly, hearing Nightmare begin to chant something unintelligible under his breath. As the tendril moved closer, the very tip of the appendage pressed into her eye just over her iris and pupil, and she hissed, balling her hands into fists. The appendage receded, vanishing behind Nightmare's back, and that's when the stinging began. At first it was tolerable, but as it grew more intense, her eye watered up and she squirmed, whining softly in discomfort. She raised a hand to rub her eye, but a dark, skeletal hand firmly grabbed her wrist, stopping her, "Not a good idea, little one. If you do that, you may just go blind." She whined again and he chuckled, placing his free hand on her head, "It'll be over soon... until then, I think some more rest would benefit you." A wave of sleepiness washed over Adrienne and her body went limp, her eyes slowly drifting shut. Once he was sure that she was fully asleep, Nightmare delicately placed her back down on her bed, laying the scarf and jacket beside her.

Leaning over her, he carefully opened her left eye again, his grin becoming darker and much more malicious as he took note of her eye's condition; the white of her eye was now black, her iris had vanished, and all that remained of her pupil was a small, white crescent moon shape.

It'd be interesting when she woke up again, and he almost couldn't wait to see what would happen.

As she began to stir a while later, she took notice of the scarf and jacket beside her, slowly sitting up in bed and slipping them on. She tried her hardest to remember the events that took place in judgement hall, but all she could think of was finding the ashes of the skeletons brothers scattered everywhere. She remembered fighting, blood, and getting her eye gouged out, and she remembered the apparition of Sans.

Her lips curled into a wide, manic smile, and despite the tears running down her face, she began to laugh.

She laughed and laughed, until her sides ached and her face was stained red from tears, and as she got out of bed, her heart leapt in her chest as the sight of the apparition of Sans passed by her open doorway. Eagerly bounding after him, she called out his name, eyes wide and full of excitement and curiosity. Reaching the end of the corridor and seeing that he was nowhere in sight, she made a face, pausing to glance at herself in a mirror.

Seeing her eye, she burst into another fit of laughter, and her entire world went black.

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northwind4 · 4 years

Text

Dearest WingDings（11）

*It's a story about HandPlates! Gaster and Wing! Gaster

*I’ll appreciate it very much if you point out the mistakes I made in the translation, all kinds of help are welcomed!

*previous & next

*Handplates by @zarla-s

Wing!Gaster by me

————————————————

Chapter11

“WAR AGAINST THE PLATES”

174

The coffee was ready, Wing walked over and filled two mugs.

“When is the last time we slept?”He went to the workbench and handed one of the mugs to his companion.

Gaster glanced at the clock.

“6 days ago, I think.”

175

Gaster finally recovered completely a week ago, and a new plan was launched.

The previous project was canceled, and they arranged a comprehensive medical examination for the little skeletons. They also prepared the daily activities that children of this age should have, including courses and entertainment.

Although forgiving and overcoming the shadows of the past still had a long way to go, at least this was a new beginning.

The top-ranked items on the to-do list, right after “Accept Papyrus’ hug invitations anytime and anywhere”, was an iconic operation:

“i don’t care how long your mercy will last,”said Sans, “remove this weird thing first if you really want to show some kindness.”

W: Oh dear I can’t help wondering if you peeked at the outline.

GPS :? ? ?

W: Uh, sorry, I mean future.

W: And this is exactly what we are going to do next.

176

Plan 1

W: Since you drilled holes with an electric drill and then fixed it with screws

W: Sounds like it’s not that difficult to remove them.

G: ...

G: In order to prevent them from moving the plates themselves

He looked away.

G: I added some other magic to it

Plan 1 failed.

177

W: I made the 3D model of the children’s hands

W: Then we can make solid models with artificial calcium compounds and magic, which can act like the real bones to the greatest extent for practical operation.

W: We need about 20?

W: What’s that expression...

W: 30?

W: 40? 50? 60?

G: ...

G: Ten times more...please

178

WHAT THE HELL HAVE YOU DONE TO THEM YOU BAD SKELETON

179

W: (Turn on the computer to play the music Spear of Justice)

W: NGAHHH——!

G: What’s wrong with you

W: Howling to increase determination —__—

W: After all, this will be a huge project

180

Plan 5 failed.

W: It’s ok

W: It’s normal for this complicated operation to fail even 20 times.

181

Plan 26 failed.

W: emmmm

W: Sure enough, 20 is not enough.

W: Come on, there are more than 500 opportunities waiting for us!

182

Plan 159 failed.

W: Do you have more coffee?

G: I thought you would never be sleepy

W: Yeah I did not feel tired after becoming like this...I used to thought I didn’t need to eat or sleep anymore

W: Now it seems that I still have the limitation.

183

Plan 234 failed.

W: Honestly

W: If this thing is nailed to my hand

W: I’d rather break my whole hand than letting it stay on me

G: ...

W: Don’t tell me you think this can be tried to the kids

184

G: Maybe we can try to destroy the plates

W: Yes, but they are much stronger than the bones...

W: But we will never know without trying

185

Plan 287 failed.

Two scientists who had not slept for 3 days sank in the chair.

W: What on-under the earth did you use to make this thing?

W: Feels like it’s full of determination

G: It’s true that I was determined at the time

W: ...

Wing threw a part of himself at Gaster.

W: (*weakly)I’m gonna kill you...

186

Plan 299 failed.

W: Fine. You made me mad, little plate.

W: Do you think it will work if the beam of Gaster Blaster is focused on one point? Will it be strong enough to break the plate?

G: Yeah, together with the bones.

W: ...come on, I will control it

W: Ready?

W: HERE COMES THE 60000 ATTACK! !

187

The little skeletons playing in another room were attracted by the loud noise.

A large hole was smashed on the laboratory’s wall, and two Dr.Gasters were buried under the bricks and limestones. Inside the lab, the plate on the workbench was totally intact.

Wing climbed out of the piles of wall bricks. He lifted Gaster who had fallen on his body, shaking off the dust.

W: Are you okay?

G: Hmm...fine...

W: What material did you use to make that...?

W: It seems to be even stronger than the BARRIER.

Plan 300 failed.

188

Plan 324 failed.

W: It’s time to cook for the children again

W: Come on, you go to cook and take a break

G: No, you go to cook

W: You go

G: You go

W: You

Sans came over.

W: Hello kid, what’s up?

S: my brother just went to the kitchen

S: he wants to make you some—

G&W: Let’s go to cook.

189

Papyrus was waiting in the bedroom.

P: WOWIE! YOU SUCCEEDED IN CONVINCING THEM TO HAVE A REST!

P: HOW DID YOU DO THAT?

S: because i’m the brother of great papyrus

P: NYEH(≧∇≦)————!

The taller skeleton hugged his brother and kissed him.

190

Plan 401 failed.

W: One experiment failed 401 times

W: Do you know what this means

G: What

W: It means we are going to start the 402th time!

W: Yeah...!

He cheered weakly.

191

Plan 489 failed.

They made two cups of instant noodles.

W: (*eating) I always think instant noodles are better than compressed biscuits.

G: (*eating) I’m more used to chocolate.

Papyrus walked up to them.

W :?

P: (⁎⁍̴̛ᴗ⁍̴̛⁎)HUG

Gaster opened his arms and allowed the little skeleton to embrace him. From the stiffness of the action, the scientist still needed more practice.

P: WHAT ARE YOU EATING?

W: Instant noodles, a kind of convenience food.

P: MAY I—

G: No. You need a balanced diet.

The boy was a little bit lost, Gaster petted his head, and he was immediately happy again. He kissed his creator on the cheek before leaving to sleep.

W: Wow

W: (*applauding)

192

The coffee was ready, Wing walked over and filled two mugs.

“When is the last time we slept?”He went to the workbench and handed one of the mugs to his companion.

Gaster glanced at the clock.

“6 days ago, I think.”

Plan 502 failed.

193

Wing looked through the results of recent experiments.

W: We are very close...

W: Already able to eliminate all magic

W: Just stuck at the final physical removal step

W: Why did each bone break after removing the plate?

W: There must be something missing.

194

G: ...

G: I got an accident before

G: I wanted to use energy to...fix Sans’ right eye

G: ...

G: But the power suddenly went wrong and the explosion broke half of his skull.

His hands started shaking slightly, and Wing held them.

W: I am listening.

G: I put him in the tube for emergency treatment. At that time, his HP was full and all results of the physical examination were completely normal.

G: But he just refused to wake up, and the cracks in the skull cannot be healed.

G: Later I took Papyrus to heal him. It was amazing. He soon woke up and everything went well.

G: I think maybe it was not just because of magic...

195

G: Monsters are made of magic, and magic comes from our soul

G: And the soul can...generate determination?

G: Like you said, if the strength of the plates came from my determination

G: ...

He looked up at Wing’s eyes.

G: What were you thinking when you rushed into the burning core?

196

W: ...

W: Sure enough, the doer is the best one to undo what he has done.

197

W: Besides myself, I have seen many monsters using determination in various parallel worlds.

W: If there is anything in common, it is probably the condition for launching this kind of power

W: It needs a...strong reason? Like what you are fighting for.

W: But not for harm, it’s a kind of, ugh not very well described...let’s get it simple—

W: It’s to protect who you love.

198

W: You love them, you want to protect them, for which you are willing to give everything as the price.

W: Even getting burned or melted......even if everyone will forget you.

W: I guess when you decided to start THAT project, you must had something that you treasured very much. That desire exceeded your fear and every other emotions.

G: ...

W: No need to be afraid.

W: You can do it, for these people, for your children

W: For yourself.

199

Plan 513.

You can do it, WingDingsGaster.

Think about your reasons for insisting.

The reason I insisted, Gaster thought, the reason I insisted.

The rEasoN i gOt evErYThing wrOnG He thought of the war in the past, in the fire and screaming he couldn’t find his families anymore.

He remembered the desperate look on the king after losing his wife and children. There were also two children shaking together, and Wing’s burning purple eyes when he found everything.

He saw Asgore standing in front of him, holding a jar containing a human soul in his hand.

He saw his hands covered with blood and ashes.

Gaster stepped back in fear, the bone model on the operating platform shattered into dust again.

Wing gave him a hand, and he held his arm to adjust the breathing.

“It’s okay,”Wing said,“Try again, there’s no need to make yourself suffer that much.”

“It maybe hard, but love and protection should be happy things in nature.” The scientist in black made the equipment ready again.

“Try thinking about what made your strong determination.” Gaster closed his eyes.

What is that?

Perhaps it is the basic magic that his parents taught him, the first book he had got, the beautiful rain which he held an umbrella to wait for.

It is Asgore and Toriel holding his hands on the war field, and the dinner they invited him to. And the successfully running core, the anime that Alphys shared with him. Perhaps it is Wing telling him to smile more. It is Papyrus’ hug, is the smiling faces that the baby skeletons had shown when they saw him.

Gaster seemed to hear the sound of tears falling. He opened his eyes and saw mild green light, some power he had lost was calling for reviving, although it was still very little, it kept growing.

There was a warm feeling in his chest, like the resonance of the soul.

200

Strange today, Papyrus thought, the lab was too quiet.

The little skeletons walked to the door of the laboratory, where they found the reason why no one had made a sound.

Gaster lay on the bench, and Wing turned into a black blanket covering him. The two scientists was in the deep sleep, like they just ended a long war.

Two groups of intact artificial hand bones were placed on the operating table.

Test record:

Plan 513 succeeded.

To rule out chance factor and make sure, additional experiments (20/20):

All succeeded.

#handplates #wing!gaster #gaster #wingdingses #dearest wingdings

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yastaghr · 4 years

Text

Carried Skeleton 11 - Death

Chapter Summary: Flowey plays torture with Sans to Papyrus' dismay and Chara and Azriel reach their destiny.

Warnings: Major Character Death, Torture

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17443730/chapters/58940371

Flowey grinned his most twisted grin, the tiny spark of a soul in his stem throbbing with excitement. He was absolutely thrilled. This was dangerous. This was daring. This was fun.

He stared at his canvas and licked his lips. There was Sans, bound to a chair, gagged, and showing real fear. His small, upside-down soul was summoned and hovering in front of him. Connected to it by a long line was an IV of healing magic that Flowey was especially proud of. It would replenish Sans’ health as he lost it, which meant that Flowey could hurt him for as long as he wanted to. He giggled. Yes, this was definitely going to be fun.

As he considered what he wanted to do to Sans first, Flowey let his anger wash over him. Papyrus hadn’t been paying attention to him. He was his brother, Papyrus was supposed to play with him! Not with some fish bitch, and not with the baby. He’d killed the fish and scattered her dust in the river so she would never have a proper funeral, and also so Papyrus wouldn’t suspect that she was dead. Then he captured Sans and got him set up properly for a long, long play time. If he couldn’t get Papyrus to play with him, then maybe he should try playing with the baby himself.

When the idea occurred to him, Flowey’s grin spread impossibly wider. He reached behind him and grabbed the sharpest knife on his table of torture. Seeing Sans’ face when he brought it out…

He was surprised to experience a moment of hesitation. Sans looked so scared. His baby brother looked so scared. Did he really want to… no, he couldn’t think like that. A soulless being wouldn’t worry about hurting someone. He had to do it. He brought the knife forward and prepared to cut.

Not far away, Papyrus was searching. Flowey had said that there was a suspicious monster hanging around their basement door before it blew up. Papyrus might not like the memory of the monster who owned their basement before them, but he knew that machine meant a lot to Sans. If he could find the monster who had blown up their basement then he could figure out why, and if he could figure out why then he could stop them from doing it in the next timeline, and if he could stop it then Sans would be happy. He wanted Sans to be happy.

When he found the abandoned shed in the outskirts of Waterfall, of course he decided to check it out. An abandoned looking shed would be the perfect place to hide after committing a crime! That’s what all his favorite TV shows said, anyway. So obviously he went in!

He wished he hadn’t. Seeing the state that Sans was in, the blood dripping off of Flowey’s knife, the expressions on their faces… it was heartbreaking and infuriating at the same time. They were brothers! Granted, Sans didn’t know that, but Flowey did! Why was he doing this? Sans was bleeding from every bone in his body. Flowey had filetted and carved into his bones to create an almost random design; almost because Papyrus recognized it as Asriel’s signature attack pattern, the one with stars raining down out of the sky.

“FLOWEY,” Papyrus said deeply. Flowey jerked and spun around, a weird expression on his face. It was like worry, confusion, slyness, and fear were all thrown into a blender, frozen with liquid nitrogen, and scattered on a plate of anger and pain. “WHAT EXACTLY DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING TO MY BROTHER?”

Flowey’s face contorted as he tried to come up with an explanation that would get Papyrus off his back, but Papyrus wasn’t having it and let it show. He wanted the truth and he wanted it now.

“Um… shit. I-” Papyrus glared at him, “You haven’t been paying attention to me! I’m your big brother! I’m the one you’re supposed to be playing with, not the baby! So, since you’re so obsessed with the smiley trashbag, I had to do something to him to get you to pay attention to me! So I did!”

Papyrus could see it in Sans’ eyes. He hadn’t known that it was Asriel doing this to him. Papyrus tried to mirror that expression, and it must have worked, because Flowey bought it. “YOU- YOU- AZZY?”

Flowey looked shocked for a moment, like he hadn’t meant to say that. Then he jumped on it and owned it. “Yes, it’s me! I’m stuck with my memories in a stupid, soulless flower and I can’t even play with my own brother, so you can imagine the kind of stress I am under. I want your attention and I want all of it! I don’t want to share you with some stupid fish! I don’t want to share you with Sans, either! I don’t want to share you with anyone!”

Papyrus gulped. Oh. So Flowey was jealous. That… sort of made sense. Azzy could get really moody if he wasn’t getting the attention he thought he deserved. This was just kind of that taken to an extreme. A really, really scary extreme. But if Flowey really was soulless like he said, that made sense.

Papyrus raised both hands and slowly stepped forward. “I SEE. UM… HOW ABOUT THIS, FLOWEY. AZZY? FLOWEY. HOW ABOUT THIS: IF YOU LET ME TAKE SANS TO THE HOSPITAL I’LL PLAY WITH YOU FOR AS LONG AS YOU WANT. I’LL DO ANYTHING YOU WANT ME TO. WE CAN EVEN,” Papyrus gulped. This was a really big concession for him, but he needed Flowey to agree to this, “WE CAN EVEN PLAY MONSTERS AND HUMANS. I KNOW YOU LIKE TO BE THE MONSTER, SO I’LL BE THE HUMAN FOR AS LONG AS YOU WANT, OKAY? JUST, PLEASE, LET ME TAKE SANS TO THE HOSPITAL. HE NEEDS HELP, AND I DON’T WANT HIM… I DON’T WANT HIM TO DUST.”

Flowey eyed him in a way that Papyrus couldn’t quite place. It lasted uncomfortably long. Then Flowey shrugged, dropped that wicked knife onto the cold, hard ground, and backed up. “Be my guest. I’m not going to let you out of my sight, though, and you’d better not tell anyone that this was me.”

“OF COURSE NOT, FLOWEY!” Papyrus said as he stepped forward, ready to start untying Sans from the chair he was bound to. “IF I DID YOU WOULDN’T GET TO PLAY WITH ME! NOW, PLEASE STAY BACK. I DON’T WANT YOU TO-”

That was when it happened. Papyrus had been trying to be careful. He’d untied the arm restraints with the utmost care and was moving to the left leg when he bumped it. It was such a little bump! It shouldn’t have done that much damage! But nobody bothered to tell that to Sans’ soul. The little bump jostled the needle connecting that weird IV thing to Sans’ soul. It lost its stability and fell out. Papyrus only had time to look up and see the panicked expression on Sans’ face before his whole body turned to dust.

Papyrus froze. He- no. That can’t have just happened. It was a joke, right? It had to be. He turned to Flowey, and his expression broke that little fantasy. Flowey looked like he was lost and in agony. This… this was real. He really had killed his little brother.

“FLOWEY,” Papyrus asked, his voice sounding as if it was coming from a long way away, “PLEASE DO YOUR WEIRD LITTLE TIMELINE THING. I CAN’T HANDLE THIS AGAIN. I’M NOT… STRONG ENOUGH. I PROMISE I’LL PLAY WITH YOU ALL YOU WANT. JUST, PLEASE, MAKE IT SO SANS IS SAFE.”

Flowey slowly nodded through the shock. It was clear that he didn’t know that Papyrus remembered. Papyrus just hoped that, if he could keep Flowey entertained long enough, Sans would be safe.

“I can do that, cheery doormat. I promise.”

=====

Staring at your own dead body was definitely surreal. So was hearing your brother’s thoughts, especially when they were so steeped in grief. Chara focused on them, trying to pick out the thread that would let them help him.

<... It’s my fault, it’s my fault, it’s my fault->

Chara interrupted that thought right there. <Azzy, stop that. It’s no more your fault than it is mine. I told you that I was dying anyway. It was going to be old age before long. We just hurried it along a bit.> Azriel sniffed. Chara felt that, felt the tears in his fur (and wasn’t that a weird feeling), and sighed. <You’re such a needy crybaby! Come on, we have to get out of the Barrier before Mom and Dad come back. Don’t make me move these limbs myself!>

Azriel sniffed again, but Chara could tell that this one was different. This one was just Azzy trying to clean up his face. Chara smiled and felt that smile translate onto Azriel’s face. <Okay, Chara. You wanted to see the flowers in your village one last time, right?>

Chara nodded and picked up their own body. Azriel recoiled, but Chara explained, <I don’t want Mom and Dad to have to figure out what to do with it. We can put it in the flowers on the Surface, okay? I know you’ll like them. They’re golden, even more so than the buttercups. I don’t know what they’re called, though.>

Azriel headed out of their bedroom and towards the Barrier as they talked. <I know. You drew a picture with Sans, oh, twenty some years ago? He still keeps it safe from juice stains.>

Chara nodded, noting absently that walking through the Barrier felt like static and cotton balls. <Yeah, I know. I never thought he would take it so seriously. I figured he would forget about it in a few years, maybe.>

<Monsters live for a long time, Chara, so we have to remember stuff for a long time, too.> Azriel admonished, <It’s still so weird to me that humans can only live a bit over a hundred years. No wonder you changed so much physically! I just thought you were like the Whimsums. They go through so many life stages, and they look so hugely different in all of them. I never thought that you were actually aging that fast. Wowie!>

Chara shivered as they stepped out into the sun for the first time in decades. It felt so weird against Azriel’s fur. He was standing in shock, taking everything in for the first time. Chara was too busy reliving their mad escape to feel that awe, however. The only thing they could do was shield Azriel as best they could from the horrors in their mind. They didn’t want to worry or upset him. If they’d known that this whole soul absorbing thing would involve sharing thoughts, well… they might have reconsidered who they asked to absorb them. Maybe Gaster would have been a better idea after all.

<Is that your village, Chara?> Azriel’s voice interrupted their thoughts.

Chara blinked, trying to focus on what Azriel could currently see. He had to have been walking for a while, because he was approaching the clearing that their village used to be in. It looked bigger now. There were a lot more houses and buildings. It could hardly be called a village anymore. It was now a small town.

<Yes, this is it. The clearing with the flowers is over by that big tree there. At least, it used to be…> Chara said. There was now a fence and a gate around the flowers. That hadn’t been there before.

Azriel walked over and carefully opened the gate, setting Chara’s body down on the flowers and sitting next to it. Chara ran their hand through the flowers, getting Azriel’s fur covered in seeds and pollen. Maybe when they got back home Dad could have some fun trying to grow them. Of course, he wouldn’t need to if they did what they had planned to do. Chara forced his body to stand up and look around. There were some humans not too far away.

<Chara… what are you doing?> Azriel asked uneasily.

<I’m doing what Dad always said to do and being the Saviour of Monsterkind.> Chara said stubbornly. Then they stepped forward and brought Azriel and themselves into their destiny.

#carried skeleton #undertale #flowey #sans #papyrus #chara #asriel #major character death #torture #yastaghr

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sleepyfan-blog · 5 years

Photo

fandom: Undertale, Dreamtale, Baby Blaster AU

Characters: Dream Sans, Baby Blaster Papyrus, Baby Blaster Sans, W.D. Gaster

warnings: Painful Transformation, forced experimentation, implied child abuse

word count: 3,106

Summary: Dream finds himself in a darker AU, strapped to a table, with an Evil Gaster starting to do a horrible experiment on him.

"Wh-why are you doing this?" Dream asked, struggling a little in the restraints that he had woken up in. The positivity guardian had been wandering through AUs, doing his best to help people when he had stumbled into a particularly low-positivity AU. He had noticed, upon entering Snowdin, that the Papyrus and Sans of the AU wasn't living there. He had also heard the monsters gossiping in Grillbys - that the head royal scientist, W.D. Gaster had become more mysterious and reclusive in the past couple of years. Some Sanses and Papyri were related to Gasters, others were adopted and some... Well, at the time, Dream had hoped that this was an AU with a good - or at least a well-meaning Gaster.

Pinned down with magical restraints as the scientist stared down impassively from the operating table he'd been strapped to, the other's eye lights cold and harsh proved otherwise. Still, the doctor had underestimated his magical strength - as he could still use his magic some, and tried to reach out to the other, hoping to encourage any compassion and positive feelings that existed within the tall skeleton monster "You don't... You don't have to do whatever it is that you've kidnapped me fore. Just let me go, and I will leave you and yours alone." He would, perhaps, talk about this AU rather loudly with Ink.. In a place that he knew that Cross and the other Bad Sanses frequented, commenting that it was such a shame that he and Ink couldn't directly interfere with AUs and though he was terribly worried for the sans and Papyrus of that AU... there wasn't much that he could do...

"I do not know how you came to be. There are no other skeleton monsters in the underground apart from WDG-1-S, WDG-2-P and myself. Who are you?" The Gaster demanded, his white eye lights flashing with irritation "Particularly a monster of your magical power would have been known by myself as well as the King and Queen. Yet I have never met you before. Who are you and why have you been hiding? What reason do you have from coming out of seclusion now?"

"I... I will tell you who I am, if you let me up. I'm afraid that it's not going to make a lot of sense, and you may not believe me." Dream responded, not wanting to explain that he was from an alternate universe to a Gaster like this - pinned down and unable to teleport away as Gasters like this... Tended to react one of a couple of different ways, and none of them meant good things for himself.

"No, I will not let you go unless you explain yourself. Besides, either of my experiments are growing like they should. Despite your slight stature and mysterious origins, you are a fully grown skeleton, and it would be a waste to simply wait for you to tell me what I want to know, when that doesn't really matter." Dr. Gaster responded, walking out of Dream's line of sight before coming back again, holding a glowing syringe.

Dream had no idea what was in the syringe, but he doubted that it was anything good. Trying to suppress the panic clawing at his soul, He tried to use his magic on the other - to force the other into a calm and positive state - in the hopes that the Gaster would be more amenable to letting him go. White hot pain shot through his body from the restraints on his wrists and ankles, causing the guardian of positivity to arch off of the cold metal table and scream in pain, twisting and shuddering, and refusing to sob or cry, despite pain that he was in, not wanting to show more weakness than he already had to this Gaster.

The doctor stared down at him for a couple of moments, a mildly concerned expression appearing on his face before the other's face smoothed out again into the impassive calm of before "Fascinating. You appear to have empathic magic of some kind. Were you trying to pull on my emotions? Perhaps manipulate me into letting you go? Nevertheless, I will be curious to see how your powers will translate once the serum changes you. Now, summon your soul."

"W-why would I show you m-my soul?" Dream responded, shifting away a little from the scientist and the ominously glowing syringe. The last thing he wanted to do was to show the other his soul - as it was shaped like the golden apple he'd consumed in a desperate attempt to keep it from Nightmare many centuries ago. He really didn't need the other monster focused on him any more than the other already was.

"Because it will aid in the transformation process. I cannot initiate a Fight with you, as otherwise I will be unable to directly interact with your soul." Gaster answered, raising the syringe and positioning it over the guardian's chest, right above where his soul was located, safely hidden behind a cage of bones. "Now, do as I say."

"No!" Dream responded defiantly, golden eye lights flashing with determination. He wasn't going to help this cruel monster, even if it was going to make things worse for him. "I have no reason to do what you want, and I don't care that you're the head royal scientist and the monsters of this world worship the ground you walk on. I know what you truly are. A cold, cruel being who torments those who cannot fight back against you for your own twisted sense of pride and delight."

"I do what I do in order to protect monster kind! WDG-1-S and 2-P will be powerful weapons to be used against the humans once we reach the surface, but for now they are young and weak. You will be the proof of concept once you've finished turning." Gaster responded "Even if your main powers are empathic in nature, it will be interesting to see what offensive capabilities you do have and how they will manifest in your new form. I suggest that you stay still, or you will cause unnecessary damage to your soul." With that, the scientist shoved the very sharp point of the needle through Dream's sternum, piercing his soul.

The guardian flinched, but forced himself to stay still as the contents of the syringe were slowly injected into him, the foreign magic burning and painful enough to force tears of pain to trickle treacherously from his eye sockets. Dream's breathing was breathing fast and raggedly, his body trembling violently as he desperately stopped himself from screaming in pain, not wanting to give the sadistic scientist the satisfaction of reacting in pain. The horrific burning sensations spread from his soul along his ribcage and down his spine. He could feel the foreign magic spread inch by excruciating inch along his arms and down his legs, and Dream forced himself to stay silent, even as he instinctively began to thrash and twist in the restraints, stubbornly staying silent.

Once the magic had spread to every part of his body, Dream felt his vision begin to blur and darken... He could hear the distant sounds of someone screaming in abject pain - the kinds of screams that Nightmare had let out as the other had been forced to turn into the tentacled, corrupted being he currently was. The screams started to turn into pained howls, and he distantly heard the sounds of clothing tearing and ripping - and... Something was pulling on his arms and wrists as he continued to thrash blindly, unable to see. He felt himself shifting and warping, his form changing against his will. Dream could feel his bones twisting and shifting, his joints shifting and warping, forcing pained howls to leave his lips as he desperately thrashed and fought against the restraints as he desperately tried to understand what was going on.

Once the fiery magic faded after what felt like an agonizing eternity later, a terrified sob left his lips, but all Dream heard was a whimper of some sort of animal - a dog, perhaps? The Guardian force himself to turn on his eye lights again, once again finding himself in the lab still, but the table he'd been strapped to was broken, the restraints shattered. He was on his hands and feet, and tensed when he heard the scientist speak.

"Fascinating... You are much smaller than I anticipated you to be. Ah well, at least you didn't dust from the process. Now, come WDG-3. I will bring you to your cell. Depending on how well you behave, I will introduce you to the other two subje-” The Scientist spoke, his voice loud and commanding and Dream wasn’t going to listen to him.

Dream let out a low, warning growl, feeling his tail swish low and fast behind him as he crouched before charging Dr. Gaster, leaping up and landing squarely on the other’s chest, his forepaws pinning the other’s shoulders to the ground, his back paws digging into the other’s spine. He opened his jaws, the bifurcated lower mandible widening a little as a bright, golden light gathered between his jaws, blasting the scientist moments later, the sound of the laser firing overpowering the other’s screams of pain and horror. With the threat a neutralized and twitching ball of tears, Dream ran off with a fast, easy stride, having caught the scent of frightened pups, following their subtle scent and feeling the pulse of their young souls and magic.

The positivity guardian found the pups - small and frightened, curling around one another and whimpering in confusion and fight. He let out a quiet, purring sound, pulsing his magic towards them in soothing, calming waves. The leaner and lankier one peeked at him with curious orange eyes, while the shorter, squatter pup growled a little, blue eyes glimmering with suspicion. Dream blasted the cell doors open with blue light before laying down on the floor and rolling over onto his side, showing the both of them his belly, hoping that the show of trust and submission would calm the pups.

The orange-eyed pup perked up and took several bounding steps towards Dream, followed more cautiously by the blue-eyed pup. Dream stayed laying down on his belly - despite the fact that he really just wanted to grab the pups and run as fast as he could, to run home to safety where the three of them would be safe and protected, but he didn’t want to scare the little ones more than they already were.

“{who are you?}” The blue-eyed pup asked, sniffing at him, speaking in Hands “{Never seen you before. Did He send you?}”

“{YOU’RE LIKE US! WE’VE NEVER SEEN ANYONE LIKE US BUT HIM BEFORE, BUT HE HAS TWO LEGS ALWAYS, NOT FOUR SOMETIMES.}” The orange-eyed pup added on, his tail wagging excitedly as he bounded up to the other gaster blaster beast, sniffing him curiously before happily licking his muzzle with a bright orange tongue a couple of times, excited and hopeful.

“{My name is Dream. He forced me into this form, like he forced the both of you. I can take you away from here. Bring you somewhere safe. Where He can’t ever hurt you again.}” The guardian of positivity responded, meaning what he said.

“{where would we go? it’s not like we can escape, we’ve tried before. no matter where we go in the underground, he finds us again and brings us back.}” the blue eyed pup responded, flopping on the floor near Dream, lightly batting at the tip of his tail, morose and unhappy.

“{I’m not from this universe, and I can take you from this AU so that you two will be safe from Him for the rest of your lives.}" Dream responded, knowing that his words sounded strange and fantastic, but he meant it. Even if he had to hide them in a Haventale so that Ink didn’t know that he’d taken a couple of monsters out of their home timelines, he wasn’t going to let these pups suffer.

"{how did you get here? why did you come here?}" The suspicious little Sans-pup asked, moving a little bit closer to Dream, still wary of the stranger.

"{I can create portals that allow me to move through different universes. I travel to different worlds in order to protect them from those who would cause pain, chaos and destruction.}" Dream explained honestly, still laying on his side and staying still, despite desperately wanting to nuzzle and pick up both of the pups with his magic and flee through the nearest portal. He had no idea whether or not the Gaster had other beings involved with this project and the positive guardian was unsure how long he would be able to fend them off, as the painful transformation had taken a heavy toll on him - and he was still under the effects of the sedative that had been used to knock him unconscious so that he could be taken to the lab.

"{THAT'S REALLY AMAZING! YOU MUST BE A REALLY COOL HERO! I THINK WE SHOULD GO WITH HIM, BROTHER. I DON'T LIKE THE EXPERIMENTS THAT THE SCIENTIST RUNS ON US AND I... WHILE I WANT TO BELIEVE THAT HE CAN BE BETTER, I WOULD RATHER THE BOTH OF US BE SAFE, THAN WAITING FOR HIM TO LEARN HOW TO BE BETTER.}" The Papyrus-pup responded, his voice loud and boisterous... And having definitely caught someone's attention, as Dream could sense someone walking towards them.

"{ok, bro. it's not like anything worse could happen to us then what's already gone on...}" The Sans pup responded after a moment, walking over to Dream and sitting down next to the guardian. "{so how do these portal thingies work?}"

Dream stood up, answering as he did so "{I open a portal with my magic and we step through. Grab anything from your cell that you want to keep - we need to get going now, as there's someone heading towards us and I don't think they'd help us escape.}" With a flick of his tail, he opened a portal home.

The young Sans pup glanced briefly back into the barren cell before shaking his head “nah, there’s nothing there for either of us. C’mon bro, let’s go to our new home.”

The Pup-pyrus nodded and bounced through the portal "{WOAH! THIS PLACE LOOKS VERY DIFFERENT THAN THE LAB! COME OUTSIDE BROTHER!!}"

"{sure thing bro.}" The young Sans responded as he swiftly walked through the portal, his little claws clicking against the tile floor before stepping onto the blackened grass of the AU that Dream had opened portal too.

Dream rushed through the portal as soon as both of the young pups were safely on the other side, closing it immediately - hearing the sound of someone calling out to them, desperately, as if to try to stop them, but the positivity guardian paid the being no mind, focused on the little ones. "{Do you two need anything to eat? Are you tired? It is safe to rest here, if you need to sleep.}"

"{sleep sounds good, but apart from that me an' my bro are fine. the doctor had finished his awful testing on us for the day had given us something to eat before you showed up. this is a very strange part of an underground.}" The little Sans pup responded, his tail wagging a little as he joined Dream at the base of what was once a large and beautiful tree, now nothing more than a big, twisted and blackened stump.

Not that Dream had registered this, nor that the grass was black and twisted, and the sky above them was a warped, dark color. "{We're not in any underground. In this AU, monsters and humans live in harmony. There was never a war between the two races... Now come, sleep with me. Nighty'll be by before too long to check on us.}" There was... Something important that he seemed to have forgotten, but the guardian of positivity was just so exhausted and glad to be home with the pups who had so desperately needed to be rescued.

"{WHO OR WHAT IS NIGHTY?}" The pup-pyrus asked curiously, tilting his head a little as he walked over to where his sleepy brother and their Mysterious Rescuer were laying, cuddled together. He didn't really want to sleep right now, but they did look cozy... And he could explore later.

"{Nighty... He's my other half. M' positivity guardian. He's negativity. We balance each other out. Should be close to the tree or coming, since he's not here.}" Dream responded with a jaw-cracking yawn as he carefully grabbed his tattered cape and draped it over the pups before curling around the both of them. The clothes he had been wearing had been almost entirely shredded - including his boots and gloves, but pieces of them still clung to his alternate form. He really hoped that Nightmare didn't freak out at how different he looked - or at least he didn't in a way that woke up the pups. Dream had a feeling that they'd run if his mate reacted badly, and chasing them down would be a hassle. One that he would be happy to deal with, but would rather avoid if at all possible.

"{what's a tree?}" Sans asked curiously, yawning a little and nuzzling into his brother, a soft rumbling sound, not unlike a purr rumbling from his little chest. It was very cute, made cuter by Papyrus' answering purr.

"{It's a big plant. it has branches and leaves... Flowers and fruit sometimes... I'll explain better after we've all rested.}" Dream promised, curling a little more around both of the small pups. It was unfortunate that he'd shrunk down in size, after he'd returned home. He was still larger than both the young Sans and Papyrus, but not by much. He yawned again and gently licked both of the pups - it was an instinctual thing - as he wanted to check the both of them over, sniffing at the both of them, satisfied that they were both healthy. He didn't like the look of the metal plates affixed to their forearms, but he was pretty sure that he or Nightmare would be able to get them off once everyone was awake - or if it was affixed via magic, they could find a friendly Gaster to remove the plates from the children.

There was something very important pressing at the back of Dream's conscious mind, but the guardian of positivity couldn't place just what it was. Oh well, he'd remember after he rested.

#bad things happen bingo #dreamtale #baby blaster au #dream #dream sans #baby blaster sans #baby blaster papyrus #wd gaster #forced experimentation tw #badster #my writing

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salamanderergfanfictions · 5 years

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BSD, mult. chars, Yosano, Atsushi, Chuuya POVs, fight with Dos.

Title: The Narrow Space Between Breaths

Notes: The majority of this was written before season 3, yet, I was reading the manga at the time, so it weirdly contains spoilers as well as totally disregards it. I also will be the first one to tell you--I don’t fucking know how Rashomon works. I just don’t, if someone would explain it to me, that’d be great. Also, if someone would just like to explain to me the...whole plot of BSD that would be great, kthx.

The take-away is, I took hella liberties, I had hella fun writing it, so the most I can wish for is if someone enjoyed reading it at least a little bit. Thanks!

Summary: A fight with Dostoevsky, and the aftermath.

“How fortunate that you are all in the same spot, it makes things easier,” Dostoyevsky smirked. “I’m going to rid the world of unsightly Ability users with a godlike power. You can’t stop me yourself, Dazai. Only gods can duel one another, and I don’t plan on being challenged.”

Dazai’s eyes widened.

“Armed Agency members,” Dazai’s voice echoed across the warehouse, gaining everyone’s attention by the urgency in which he spoke, “Protect the chibi!”

“Who?” Kunikida yelled.

Dazai pointed to Chuuya with a dramatic swoosh of his arm.

“What?” Chuuya started as all the eyes of the Agency members turned to him, “I don’t need any of your shitty people protecting me!”

“Don’t worry, Mister Fancy Hat City Guy!” Kenji said, raising his fists over his head, “We’ll protect you!”

“I don’t need your—that is not my name!”

“Port Mafia, do the same. Defend your executive with your lives,” Mori said calmly, leveling an intense glare at Dostoyevsky. “And if there are any of our men left standing should Chuuya-san die, I will kill them myself.”

“Hey, hey,” Chuuya’s eyebrows shot up, deeply confused at the concern Mori was showing as well as the threat against his subordinates, “What the hell is going on?”

“Chuuya-chan is the biggest threat to Dostoyevsky’s plan right now,” Dazai said, more for the benefit of the Agency members, “He just said it, ‘Only gods can duel one another’.”

“But what the hell does that mean?” Kunikida shouted.

“While it’s true that I’m the only one that can match Dostoyevsky intellectually, this isn’t just a battle of wits. And in terms of pure power, even god-like power,” Dazai left off to glance at Chuuya, a dark, assessing glint in his eye that knocked the other man back a couple of years and dozens of missions. “In its raw form, there is no match for Chuuya’s Ability.”

Chuuya grimaced and looked down at his gloves, “You fucker. So, I guess that means...”

“If you would,” Dazai nodded, before forcing a cheesy smile on his face and tilting his head, “Only if you want to, of course.”

“You fucker,” Chuuya repeated harshly, tugging off his gloves and throwing them to the ground. “You better stop me, when it gets too—”

“I will.”

Chuuya’s breathing quickened, ”None of that suicidal bystander bullshit. You void me when you get a chance.”

“Have I ever let you down before?”

“Don’t ask me a question with an answer like that right now!”

“Chuuya,” Dazai said in warning, his teasing smile gone as he watched his Agency members fighting Dostoyevsky’s henchmen.

“I got it.” Chuuya grit his teeth and put the appropriate amount of dramatics into his next words as he stared at his hands waiting for the black and red stains to overcome him, to rewrite who he was and control his body as if Chuuya Nakahara never existed in the first place.

“‘O, grantors of—’”

He was cut off as a bullet bent around him and ricocheted off the floor, it was high caliber enough that a large divot was left in the cement. Chuuya turned around to glare at the sniper laying on the rafters above everyone.

“...That could’ve hit my hat,” Chuuya said darkly, clenching his fists in outrage, “I’m gonna kill that fucker first.”

“Actually, Chuuya would be much more useful if he focused on Dost—”

“‘O, grantors of dark disgrace,’” Chuuya recited again, forgoing dramatics this time for pure fury, “‘Do not wake me again.’”

—

There was a lot of carnage, a lot of blood, a lot of dust, rocks, and the groaning, broken, dying, dead bodies scattered throughout.

Yosano came to after healing herself, blinking blood out of her eyes and coughing up dust. She wiped a line of spit and blood from her lips as she pushed herself up with one hand, looking around for her comrades. Dazai had yelled for everyone to retreat from the building not long after whatever Nakahara had become...the pure hell that had been unleashed. Yosano had seen destructive Abilities before, but never anything as raw and indiscriminate as that, not when being channeled through a person—a person who supposedly was their ally. The last thing she had seen before turning her back to try to make it out was Nakahara sending a massive black hole toward his own men, cackling madly from blood-soaked lips while doing it. The sight and sound had chilled her to the bone. She hadn’t envied Dazai having to wade into that chaos for the chance to get skin on skin contact, though she knew that was the only hope they had to make it stop.

It was quiet now, quieter, at least.

Yosano gave one more hacking cough and stayed kneeling on the floor till she was sure her shaking was under control. One of her heel tips had snapped off, which was going to make it difficult to balance, but she wasn’t about to walk around without anything covering her feet, not with all the jagged pieces of stone, rebar, and nails littering the floor. The clothes and shoes Yosano was wearing were beyond salvage, though even she would not have wanted this kind of excuse to go shopping.

Thankfully, she hadn’t gotten pinned down beneath any columns or large stone slabs. It would have been horribly inconvenient to be crushed and just waiting to slowly bleed out before being able to heal herself, over and over as the cycle repeated. Yosano had seen the kind of mental break that kind of stress could induce on someone second hand, she had no desire to experience it—

Her eyes went wide.

“Kuni-Kunikida!” She yelled, getting to her feet quickly, wobbling on her uneven heels, to hurry to her friend’s side. The man was further away from the door than she was, which meant he hadn’t given up on trying to get Dazai to leave with him, even as load-bearing columns were being destroyed. He was limp on the floor, the longest strands of his ponytail were quickly being stained from blond to red. The puddle of blood and hair were stretching away from Kunikida’s head like the corona of the sun. I might have enjoyed it, Yosano thought in fragments, each step on the cement floor jolting a different thought into her brain, I might have thought it was pretty, maybe I would be laughing…

Yosano tumbled gracelessly to Kunikida’s side, her hands trembling as she reached toward his neck, his skin cold as ice against the pads of her fingers.

“Idiot,” She cursed in relief as she felt a thready pulse almost the same instant her butterflies gently landed on his cheek.

Once he was safe to move, she began dragging him toward the door herself, an exhausting task as she did her best to avoid the worst of the debris as well as keep balanced. Eventually she had to stop and take a break before attempting to continue, barely holding back a frustrated yell.

“I got him,” A voice behind her said, a head of bright blond hair accompanying it. “Is he all healed?”

Yosano gave Kenji a quick once over, but the young boy looked as hearty and hale as he ever did and nodded, “Yes, just get him out of the building for now. Is Tanizaki with you?”

“Yep!” Kenji smiled, “He had to call Naomi first, and I think she’s yelling at him ‘cause he has a silly expression on his face.”

Yosano brushed the comment aside easily, “Come back in when he’s done, I still don’t see Dazai or Atsushi anywhere and we need all the hands we can get.”

“Okay!” Kenji flashed a thumbs-up before lifting Kunikida up enthusiastically. Yosano almost laughed at the sight of the two of them walking away, a young boy carrying a man almost two times his body length like he was an overgrown baby, his legs hanging off the side and skimming the ground. Instead, she let out a heavy sigh and looked around again, only a few people were up and moving now, and none of them in an off-white coat or with white hair.

“Yosano-sensei, if you’re done staring into space, your assistance could be used,” Mori called out to her, his voice lilting and recognizable in a strange way. Yosano felt an irritated twinge go up her spine as she glared at him and that disgusting smirk on his face. But she was still a doctor, and there were people, mostly Port Mafia members, bleeding all around who needed her help. Just because Mori was here didn’t mean it was the same as the other time.

Over the next few moments, muscle memory took over and Yosano quickly got to work on the people around her. As expected, Mori was unscathed, almost suspiciously, taking into account where he had been when the major wall had collapsed, but he was tending to the injuries he could as well as performing a kind of reverse triage for Yosano.

“He’s dying,” Mori could be heard saying in a bored voice and Yosano would rush over, regardless if that person was Port Mafia. Working like this with him as a partner brought up bad memories and a sickening feeling of familiarity that she fought hard to ignore. She concentrated on her work, the broken bones, the gashes and gaping wounds. Most of her own had just been wounded superficially, only Kunikida had, unfortunately and thankfully, been the worst. Kenji had left him leaning against a miraculously still standing wall outside in the sunshine, dazed, covered in his own blood, but not a scratch or bruise on him. Atsushi made quick work of a rock that had pinned him down toward the back of the building, pushing it off with transformed tiger arms, and then had tried to make a hasty retreat in the wake of Yosano’s generous, yet overzealous, offer to heal him. Much to Yosano’s delight, he had not been fast enough. He was now lifting stone slabs along with Kenji as Tanizaki very reluctantly played nurse to Mori. The young boy could be heard making noises of disgust every once and a while followed by Mori chuckling.

Yosano opened her mouth to snap at the doctor to leave him alone—

“Did you hear that?” Tanizaki said, his head perking up, but he didn’t move from his task of keeping the Black Lizard member from bleeding out. “Did anyone hear that?”

Yosano wiped her forehead with the back of her hand, “Hear what?”

“I did,” Mori said with a curious tone. “It sounded like—”

A cough.

Kenji pushed and lifted concrete pieces until the infinite black of Rashomon could be seen under it. As soon as there was no more reason to be activated, Rashomon returned to its owner, unveiling what it had been protecting.

“Hello~” Dazai greeted them all chipperly, looking as if he was perfectly at home underneath a ton of rocks, two Port Mafia members, and covered in blood.

Yosano raised her eyebrow at his tone, “I almost got my hopes up seeing that much blood, but it’s too bad my Ability won’t work on you.”

Dazai grinned at her, “The only thing I’ve been in danger of is being bored to death by my abysmal company. It’s such a disappointment I wasn’t able to be buried alive with two beautiful women instead, I wouldn’t have minded that as much.”

Akutagawa let out a cough. Despite Rashomon having returned to a coat and the danger of being crushed gone, he still hadn’t moved from his shielding position over Chuuya and Dazai, supporting his body on shaking arms. Chuuya was pinned below Akutagawa and on top of Dazai, bleeding heavily from his mouth and head, soaking Dazai’s shirt and coat. He appeared to merely be unconscious, but Yosano could see he was breathing shallowly. She couldn’t even begin to fathom the physical toll an Ability like that took on the body of the one using it, Nakahara had looked like he was being crushed from the inside out just a few moments after activating. But from how he and Dazai had been talking before, this probably wasn’t the first time, which meant he had survived before and would survive again. As long as Dazai got to him in time. Yosano wondered if she would be able to trust Dazai that much with her life, deciding on the answer before she had even finished the thought.

“This one’s been coughing in my face for the past ten minutes,” Dazai said drolly, lifting his chin up at Akutagawa. “Tuberculosis would be such a terrible way to die. Too slow.”

“Give the hat guy here,” Yosano said gruffly.

Dazai held up his hands, “What, do you think I’ve been clutching him to my chest the whole time? He fell on me, and then this idiot fell on both of us, ruining a perfectly good death by crushing. It would have been fast and lethal. Akutagawa, get off.”

Akutagawa finally seemed to come back to himself and rolled off to the side. In the back of her mind Yosano made a note to check on him as soon as she was done with the Port Mafia executive. She carefully turned Chuuya on his back, without any help from Dazai, who merely stayed laying down on the ground like it was a comfortable bed. Or perhaps he was imagining it was a coffin with the way his hands were folded peacefully against his chest.

“Is he dying?” Dazai asked, a smile creeping on to his face. Yosano gave him an answering grin of her own.

“Not fast enough,” She said gleefully, raising her machete she had pulled out of nowhere, and letting loose a truly terrifying cackle.

A few feet away from them, as Yosano worked, Akutagawa was pushing himself to his feet, stumbling away from the wreckage with a determined look on his face, before tripping over some smaller pieces of concrete. He went to his hands and knees hard, his breathing slowing as sweat rolled from his forehead and down his face. He squeezed his eyes shut and a few more drops hit the floor.

“Are you okay?” Atsushi bent down next to Akutagawa slowly, laying a gentle hand on the other’s shoulder.

His hand was roughly shrugged off as Akutagawa got to his feet with the same dogged determination as last time.

“Get off me,” He leveled a glare at Atsushi, though the effect was diminished by the paleness of the other’s face and the tremors of fatigue running through his body. Atsushi backed off anyway, holding his hands up with a nervous smile.

“I was just—”

“Shut up,” Akutagawa snapped, “I don’t need your help.”

Atsushi watched Akutagawa take a few more shaky steps before collapsing to the ground again. This time he stayed down, his breathing coming out in ragged gasps even in unconsciousness. Atsushi moved to check on Akutagawa again without the other being able to refuse his help, but another Port Mafia member with long black hair reached him first. The man in black gently moved Akutagawa’s head to his lap and although Atsushi couldn’t see the other man’s mouth, he could tell he was smiling.

“He reached his limit under there, continually using Rashomon in a defensive position against tons of rock, knowing any slip of control could mean his executive getting smashed,” Dazai explained in a bored tone of voice.

“And his mentor,” Atsushi added with a meaningful look, “You were in there with him too.”

Dazai shrugged.

“You should probably thank him,” Atsushi pushed, not bothering to tear his eyes away from Akutagawa and the Port Mafia member to look at Dazai’s reaction. “I know I will.”

“Thank him? If he had practiced using Rashomon defensively when I wanted him to, it wouldn’t have taken that much concentration in the first place and he wouldn’t be in this mess.”

Atsushi pursed his lips, “I’m still going to thank him.”

“Atsushi-kun is so thoughtful,” Dazai’s voice lilted in his ear, “Doing unnecessary things.”

The comment made Atsushi frown even more, and he turned around to retort, but Dazai was already walking away. At first Atsushi thought Dazai was hanging his head because he was somewhat cowed by what Atsushi had said, but that didn’t seem likely. Atsushi watched him for a few more seconds in confusion, as Dazai slowly walked a random path through the rubble, his eyes focused on the ground, before understanding. Though he couldn’t think of anything that Dazai had with him that he would have been able to lose. Maybe it was his book on a thousand ways to commit suicide.

Atsushi turned back toward Akutagawa, intending to attempt to approach the other man again, but something caught his eye several feet away. It was wedged between two large pieces of cement, bent out of shape and covered in a light layer of dust, but still recognizable. Atsushi used his tiger arms to push the pieces apart, pulling it out gently once there was enough room. He was pleased when it almost immediately retained its former shape.

“Dazai-san,” Atsushi called out, holding the item up in his hands, turning it, “This?”

Dazai turned around, his eyes going wide in surprise for a half second as he saw what Atsushi was holding up.

“Heh,” He let out a light chuckle as he walked forward, “Like I said, Atsushi-kun is too thoughtful.”

Atsushi beamed and held it out for Dazai to take, “I wasn’t the one looking for it.”

Dazai shrugged nonchalantly, slapping it against his leg to try to get even more of the dust off. He held the object up and squinted at it, assessing, “But seriously, isn’t this the ugliest hat you’ve ever seen?”

Chuuya felt light and bubbly, like his body and insides had been given a power wash. He also felt strangely naked with his coat, hat, and gloves missing in the wreckage of the building. Chuuya didn’t want to look around for them though, he didn’t want to see any of the bodies of his subordinates that had been caught in the crossfire, either when part of the building had collapsed or by his own hand. Mori and the Agency’s doctor had been able to heal some, but Chuuya could still remember the looks on the faces of the ones he had aimed at himself, their screams as limbs were blown off or the silence as they were swallowed up into nothing. Chuuya looked down at the pale skin of his hands, clenching them hard enough that his short nails dug into his palm and they ached from the tension.

“Shame, even Yosano-sensei’s Ability couldn’t fix your ugly face,” Dazai quipped from behind, extremely disappointed when Chuuya did not react. He could see the other man was still dazed from the aftereffects of Thou Shalt Not Die, a bright, glassy look in his eyes as he stared at his lap. It was the best shape Dazai had ever seen Chuuya in after using Corruption, he was kinda pissed about being robbed of being able to see the stupid face Chuuya made as he slept. It had been too dark in their makeshift tomb and Dazai had to perpetually turn his head away every time Akutagawa coughed. It had been doubly annoying that neither of them had even responded just a little to his genuine, sincere attempts at a meaningful conversation.

“Here,” Dazai shoved a black bundle under his nose, sitting down beside him once Chuuya had taken the clothes with a shocked expression. “Close your mouth, I can smell the wine from here.”

Chuuya blinked slowly as he looked down at the pile. His coat was folded in a precise square with his pair of gloves laid neatly on top. There wasn’t a speck of dust on either of them. Chuuya put on the gloves first, feeling more like himself once the leather covered his hands and the cotton-headed feeling of the doctor’s Ability began to fade.

“Hey, you wouldn’t happen to know where—” Chuuya was cut off as Dazai plopped his hat on his head with a put-upon sigh, pressing down till it covered Chuuya’s eyes.

“Yes, though it pained me to even touch such a tacky thing.”

Chuuya righted the hat on his head, “You didn’t wait around as long you usually do before stopping me.”

“Chuuya was bringing down the whole building and Dostoevsky escaped, so there was no more need. Besides, it wasn’t as much fun watching this time.”

“He, what? Escaped?”

Dazai shook his head, “Don’t worry about it now. We’ll see him again, you can avenge your subordinates.”

Chuuya absentmindedly shook his head, “I won’t be able to avenge my subordinates unless I kill myself.”

Dazai grinned slyly, leaning back on his arms, “What a strange mood you are in this evening. You’re not my usual type, but I suppose an exception could be made considering our history. How about it, does Chuuya want to die with me? We can spend eternity in the afterlife together.”

“Ugh, I had been taking peace in the fact that I wouldn’t have to deal with you in death, but you’ve just soured that thought.”

“Chuuya started it.”

“I was—” Chuuya started, his voice coming out hoarse and tight, “I was saying that the one who killed my subordinates was me, only my death would avenge theirs.”

“I can follow a basic conversation, you know. I’m not as dumb as you.”

“Shut up. I’m obviously not going to do that though, so…I can only offer compensation to their families, if they had any, maybe donate to a charity or something.”

“How altruistic of the Mafia member.”

“Not altruism, business. The Port Mafia donates money to a lot of charities, you should remember that.”

“I do, it is a good strategy. A great strategy, one might say. A genius strategy—”

“Shut up.”

“It’s not going to help. Not you, anyway. Donating an outrageous sum of money to people in need won’t get the screaming out of your head, the terror-stricken faces, and the knowledge that you’ve killed people who were under your command. Who looked at you like you were a monster in their last moments.”

Chuuya swallowed heavily, missing the numb, tingling feeling he had before this, wishing he could go back to that time a mere few minutes ago when he felt like he was floating above his body, that none of this was real. He didn’t want to hear what Dazai was saying, it was insensitive, and ill-timed, but nothing that hadn’t already been ringing around in his own head. Chuuya had killed people before, people he knew, people he didn’t, men and women, young and old, but he had always done it with the knowledge that they were enemies of the Port Mafia. He had always done it in his right mind, for the past four years at least, and even before then, Dazai had been there to control him. This had all been Dazai’s plan today, a stupid plan, in hindsight. Unleashing Corruption in such a small space with so many of their allies around, it had been a Hail Mary, and it had failed. Dostoevsky had escaped, and as usual, the Mafia had suffered many more casualties than the Agency. Chuuya’s authority might have even been damaged over this with the survivors, and he couldn’t help the small thought eating away in the back of his brain that perhaps Dazai had done this on purpose.

Chuuya slowly brought his gaze to Dazai’s, narrowing his eyes, trying to assess what was going on behind that dead stare. Maybe Chuuya would be able to see something to prove that Dazai had planned all this in an effort to cripple the Port Mafia and take down Dostoevsky all at once, if that good-goody two shoes persona he showed the Agency was really just a big act like Chuuya had always suspected. Chuuya had seen Dazai do similar things when they were younger, he wouldn’t put it past him now. Dazai might have been able to change the color of his clothes overnight, but re-dyeing the soul took a lot more effort.

“So don’t b—” Dazai paused to reconsider what he was going to say, either ignoring or unaware of Chuuya’s suspicious stare, “Speaking from experience, performing a couple of good deeds doesn’t completely erase your past wrongdoings, nor does it lessen the burden on your soul, or magically make you a better person. But it helps, if you really try, it does help. It’s all you can really do anyway.”

Chuuya’s eyes widened, that wasn’t flippant or teasing. It didn’t make light of the deaths that Chuuya had caused or taunt him for caring about them. In fact, it had almost seemed…honest. Chuuya’s heart started beating faster as a thought occurred to him.

“Is that why you left the Mafia?” He asked, pushing himself into Dazai’s space, deciding to quickly take advantage of the rare sight of a serious, candid Dazai. Dazai looked taken aback by the question, his eyes popped open comically, and Chuuya grinned at having caught Dazai by surprise for once. He spent the next few moments in breathless silence, aware that should Dazai deign to answer, almost four years of doubt and hurt feelings could be resolved.

“Yes, and no,” Dazai finally said.

Chuuya dropped away from his former partner, his former executive, “What does, what does that mean? What kind of shitty, ambivalent answer is that?”

“It means yes and no, Chuuya-chan,” Dazai sing-songed out, his eyes squeezing shut as a large grin spread over his face.

Chuuya’s shoulders fell, and his eyes slowly drifted back to staring at his hands, clenching and unclenching them with the calming feeling of tension from the leather against his knuckles. These are a new pair, He thought absentmindedly.

Chuuya knew he wouldn’t be getting anything else out of Dazai now, the other man’s mask had already been put on, the walls were fortified, and Chuuya had never been allowed past them. He may have been given glimpses, but never trusted with more than that. Dazai…Dazai had seen everything of his, whether he had waited for Chuuya’s trust or not.

“Thanks,” Chuuya said after a moment, unable to think of anything else and deeming it innocuous, and true, enough for him to get away with. No matter what he told himself, it felt like dust coating his tongue. “Asshole.”

Dazai’s smile stayed as big and fake and cheesy as ever, “Of course, partner.”

Chuuya looked away. The conversation still felt unfinished, an inhale that had been stopped before filling the lungs, incomplete and unsatisfying. It hung in the air around them, permeated by dust and rubble and death, by all the words Chuuya wanted to say, and all the words Dazai wouldn’t ever.

The silence stretched on between them, as usual.

How long would this one last?

End

#bungou stray dogs #bsd #yosano #atsushi #chuuya #dazai #multiple POVs #implied romance #not canon compliant #season 3 spoilers #manga spoilers #I liked writing this #fanfic #salamandererg

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alemeino-blog · 6 years

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Stories Behind Scars

Characters: Underfell Sans, Underfell Paps, Underfell Doggo, implied gaster(don't need tah mention au, ya already know*) oh yeah they kids, except G, they kids.

Okay just read, not tagging, lmao

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The cold air was like a sharp needle slashing through his face. It wasn't extremely painful, yet it left a sting in its path. His bone ached from the scars of abuse and neglet, but hell if he didn't make this nightly runs he would starve. Him and probably his little brother, despite the ways their 'father' treated him.

That was probably the only reason Sans went out into this hell at night. Why he risked his life and got into fights, just for food. He kept telling himself it was just for his little brother, but there was that part of him that did it as an escape from his life. From that bastard that just enjoyed taking out his anger on him, beating him up both verbally and physically. When the asshole was home, he would hit him, use him as a lab rat for his damn experiment. Worse was he often used Papyrus to bend him to his will.

God how he wished he could just fucking kill him already. But he couldn't, he knew how judgement worked around here. The king wouldn't care whether he was a child or son of the Royal Scientist. All he would see, would be his killer. Sans didn't care much about dying, heck it would be freedom from this hell.

But Papyrus being left alone, in this cold and unjust place.

That's what held the skeleton back.

Which is why he found himself standing near Chillby's. Often times he here, scavenging for food in the back and the dumpster. He often dreamt of getting a fresh burger for once. The jucie that would sizle and drip as he pressed his hands in it, the way the vegetables would be fresh put from the fields, how fluffy yet slithly crunchy the bread would be. And he'll, how the mustard would add a spice and bitter taste, evening it all out. The fantasy itself had him drooling already, the desire to get some of it for him and his little brother growing.

Looking around to make sure no monster was dumb enough to stay out late, he quietly made his way to the restaurant, hiding behind the buildings and trees. Sweat bead on his forehead as his eyes ever so often looked this way and that, alert to anyone that might jump on him. After the overwhelming journey, he made it to Chillby's, the warmth from the orange light inside was a charm, luring the child in. Sans shook his head, gathering his might to focus on the mission.

Slowly he slid to the back, the usual light was off. Either it was broken or the owner of the place forgot to turn it on. But it didn't stop the small skeleton from his quest, as he focused his eyes and let them get used to the darkness. He shuffled his feet, hoping they would feel remains of cartons or bags with food. Even got down to the floor as an extra. His hand found a bag against the dumpster, a grin on his face at the prize. Picking it up faster than his spirits did, he gave a small jump at the joy.

"Now what do ye think you're doing?" snarled a voice. Sans froze, timidly turning to the source. It was too dark to see, but as he squinted his eyes, the small light of a cigarette or two came to view. His mind snapped back to its usual state of alert, knowing who had appeared at his quest for food. And wherever he was, his gang was always behind him. Due to the instant of the news, he scrambled, trying onto the snow.

"Ha! Look at that wimp!," said Doggo, other laughing in unison. "Can't even walk right. Pathetic"

The words spat cold, but he showed no signs of emotions. He got up, bag in hand as he glared his blood red eyes at Doggo. "Go fuck yourself mutt."

Oos were heard as the dog began growling. Even with the fear, Sans couldn't help but smile at the expression of the other due to a simple comment.

"So, that's how ya wanna play it ya little shit," growled Doggo, approaching Sans. The skeleton knew that if he didn't run, he would be killed. Bag grasped close he didn't give the others a second as he began running away. Short after he heard growls and screams as the footsteps came closer and closer. Fear ran through the skeleton with every bark, like thunder, informing him of the coming storm. He cried, wishing his legs could move faster. He could turn and fight them, or heck teleport. But the child was much too scared to focus. He wasn't experienced, so he would have to stop, focus, and pray his magic would respond in time. And he wasn't one who enjoyed taking risks.

But hell maybe if he had, it would've saved him from the pain.

One of the dogs leapt on him, pinning him to the ground as he struggled out of their grasp, a futile attempt. Doggo soon came into view, sneering at the fear etched on Sans' face.

"Now, I'mma show ya what happens when ya steal from us," the bastard snarled, grinning as he turns to the one holding Sans down. Whatever that nod was, it seem to transfer that smile to his captor, Sans' eyes going small as he raised his right arm. Not even having to think, did Sans knew what would happen next.

They were going to break his eye. The source of his power, what made him capable to survive in this fucked up world, they would destroy it. Even if it was from his soul, it was his eye that made it possible to summon it, made it possible for him to form attacks and teleport. Possible for him to use it. He couldn't do anything, not with this fear, not like this, not with the other's body on him. He could try to summon bones but he needed time! Without thinking, moving the only part of his body accessible, he quickly turned, claws coming across his right eye.

Sans wanted to scream as he heard the splintering bones, felt marrow dripping down as everything on his right side went blurred. The others laughed of their fake victory, giving Sans time to recollect himself, push back the pain as his left eye flared with magic. Immediately, he summoned bones and impaled them through the monster above him. Even after the weight came off he made some from the ground go up and through the unfortunate, hitting right in his soul with every attempt to see him dust. As the other stared in shock, Sans took this moment to go back running, feeling the monster's EXP add to his own. The small guilt made Sans' confidence boost, as he turned and sent bones to the catching Doggo, the femurs hitting him straight in the eyes. He screamed in pain, the others stopping to see their so called leader on the ground. Sans smirked, enjoying the sight of the other getting a taste of his own fucking medacine. He quickly stopped, allowing himself to focus once more.

"You little shit you'll pay for this one day," was the last thing Sans heard Doggo snarl before everything blurred to black.

____________________________________________________________

Sans stumbled to Waterfall dump, falling to the cold water as it splashed onto his bones. He took this moment to let the adrenaline wear off as the unbearable pain rolled in. His right side was completely blurred, nearly blind for only if he couldn't see the mixture of colors. Sans looked down to the reflection, barely making out the deep claw marks covered in marrow as it dripped down along his skull. He raised his bony fingers to trace along it, hissing in pain and quickly pulling away. At least the tooth he lost due to Papyrus didn't have that much of a negative effect. This he knew, would stay. Maybe he could receive more vision, but it wouldn't be as great as before. It would be blurred mostly, yet still visible.

But he was alive. He was alive and had killed one of those bastards, possibly blinded Doggo even! And he still got a bag of food, the sights telling him the chances of the food being fresh. Sans smiled for a bit, forgetting the pain and chances of being partly blind on his right side. Hell did he have a story to tell Papyrus.

The thought of his baby brother snapped him back to reality. Wincing as he got up, he focused his magic and teleported back to their home. Papyrus as always, was waiting for him and came running at the return of his brother, but stopped.

"Sans, what happened to your eye?," asked the youngest.

"Let's just say Ah got into a bit of a dog fight," Sans chuckled. "An' it wasn't very pawppealing." The wink was enough to make Papyrus stomp on the ground angrily, Sans holding back a laugh from how ridiculous hiw baby brother acted to a pun. Grabbing the bag, he was about to head to the kitchen when he felt arms wrap around him. Turning, he was surprised to find Papyrus hugging him.

"Uh Paps? Ya o-," started Sans.

"Don't get too used to it brother! This is a one time thing!" There was a long pause.

"You need to be more careful Sans. I'm not an idiot, I know about your single health point," Papyrus said in an unsual low tone. "You can't keep getting into these fights. I have no idea what permanent effects that new scar could have... Sans... What if you-"

"Ah'll be fine," chuckled Sans, patting his brother's head. He'd be lying if that touch of kindness, that touch of brotherly love didn't move his soul. Yes he knew Papyrus loved him, but seeing his brother this worried and concern, seeing someone actually care for his well being.

Sans couldn't stop smiling, turning to hug his brother with all the strength he had in him. The pain in his right eye dimishing.

"When I grow older I will become string and fearsome so no one will dare hurt you!," Papyrus declared, tone back to it's usual loud and boastful matter.

Sans chuckled at him, shaking his head slightly. "Heh, yeah sure good luck with that bro. Try not hurting yerself too much or ya might end up like me."

"You mean I could get a cool scar too?!," beamed Papyrus, looking up at Sans. Goddamn it was the kid too adorable sometimes. "That would be perfect! Then I will be even more terrifying! Nyeh heh heh!"

Sans rolled his eyes at that spark of innocence. Sure his life was hell but at least he would have Papyrus. At least he would be there to tend to the damn scars his dumb ass would attract. Grabbing the bag of food, he returned to the still unfinished task.

"If only ya knew bro. Now how'z it we eat?"

"Wait... Is that from that shitty ass greasy place," said Papyrus.

"Ey watch yer mouth, an' ey, ah lost an eye for this so don't go complaining," said Sans, though there was no tone of anger in his voice.

"Disgusting... But I suppose this could be an exception.." said Papyrus, following up to his older brother. Sans smiled as he began taking out the contents, both brothers sitting down to enjoy their dinner.

"Oh yeah there might be a chance ah spilled mustard all over this." he smirked.

"SANS!!"

************************************************************

Yo peeps sup! So ya know how I draw my beautiful boy with two jagged scars on his right eye? Well, here is le horrible back story! Ah know is shit but ey, was writing this so depression wouldn't get to me ha ha. If ya have any questions or shit ha ha ask! And I might do one for Edge if ya peeps want, who knows?!

Btw bully doggo overused but I don't give a shit

#alemeino #fanfic #red #underfell sans #underfell papyrus #underfell #backstory #comfort #pain #idkhowtotagthis #dluffybrothrshit?#haha can't spell #implied child abuse #give my edgy bois love plz!!!#TUMBLR IS CHRISTIAN HOMOPHOBIC

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sansfangirl4life-blog · 6 years

Text

Souls of Glass Chapter 5

A timeskip and some insight into poor Lost’s depression QwQ My poor baby

Lost is mone, and Undervirus belongs to @jeyawue

Chapter 5

Three weeks later....

Lost hummed as he pushed the vacuum around the house, ear buds in his ears. "Take me down to the river bend...." He pushed it along the carpet, his bare feet enjoying the feeling of the soft material beneath it.

"Ya look goofy." Xans said as he flipped through a book, chewing on some gum. He blew a large bubble and it gave a soft 'pop' as Lost looked his way. "I mean, Vapyrus usually does this."

"Well I don't see you helping with chores. And besides, Vapyrus is outside tending to the flowers with Frisk today." Lost said, turning his music back on. Xans smirked and pulled a screen up, flipping through songs until hitting one. Lost frowned when the song changed and he glared at Xans as he laughed. "Quit messing with my music!"

"Aww, c'mon! I wanna see ya 'dansen'."

"Ugh...." Lost's blue eye flashed and Xans was lifted into the air, hanging upside down. More magic surrounded the couch as he vacuumed under it before placing it gently back down, and depositing Xans on the floor roughly.

"Ow!"

"Serves you right." The teen huffed and continued to clean, changing his music back. Xans smirked and his large, data wings formed and he flew over Lost and back to the couch. "Why don't you help Sans clean up in the kitchen?"

"Cause I don't want to." Lost rolled his eyes and continued cleaning. Xans took a moment to look the young man over, his teal and green eyes narrowed slightly. He's getting circles under his eyes....is he not sleeping? He frowned and shook his head. Nah that ain't right. He sleeps like a log. He watched Lost finish up and put the vacuum away. "Did that wear ya out?"

"Hmm? No, I'm fine." Lost stretched and headed to the kitchen. Xans scowled a little and put his book down, following him. Sans was at the sink, scrubbing the dishes with a pink apron over his clothes. "You need any help?"

"No, I'm fine. Thanks for asking Lost. They're almost done." Sans smiled and Xans felt his scowl deepen looking at the two of them. He used his own magic to yank Lost to him and looked into his eyes.

"What the hell Xans?!" Xans smirked and leaned in close, his lips ghosting over his captive's. "Let me go Xans."

"Heh, last time ya said that....ya were begging for a different kind of 'release', no?" Just as Xans hoped, Lost's face turned beet red and he licked his lips. "If ya want....I can do that again."

"Fuck off!" Lost shoved him away and stormed outside as Xans watched him go. Sans stood in front of him, having finished and hung the apron up.

"Do you always have to be such a damned prick?" He asked. Xans looked down at him and clicked his tongue slightly. "You don't need to be so rude."

"I ain't actin' any different just because he doesn't like it." Xans said, shrugging. He turned to see Lost outside, kneeling next to Vapyrus and Frisk, helping them pull weeds. He walked outside and leaned against the door, watching them all interact. Sans teleported beside him and sighed. "What now?"

"I've noticed that he never looks at her when he talks to her."

"Who, ya mean Frisk?"

"Yeah....I asked Valphys to look some info up on why...her and Gaster are currently looking at information but it feels kinda...invasive." Xans just chuckled and Sans frowned. "You just made that dirty, didn't you...."

"Heh, I could go for an 'in depth' look if ya want."

"Ugh, Xans no." Sans shook his head. Xans leaned in close and Sans could feel the smirk against his skull.

"That wasn't what ya said a week ago Sans~...." Sans rolled his eyes and pushed him back. "Heh, just messin' with ya." Xans watched as Loat helped them plant a few new flowers, showing her how to do it. "Although he does have rather nimble fingers it seems..."

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Footsteps crunched the snow beneath his feet as he wandered in the dark. He felt the cold through his hoodie and shirt, the chill air like ice in his veins. Why...why is it so cold? Was it always this cold? Lost wondered as he wandered around. There was no moon above him, yet he could see his surroundings with ease. This looks like the woods but...it feels different...

He zipped his hoodie up and continued walking when he heard a familiar growling sound. Amalgams.... He held his hand out, but when no magic formed he froze. No....no what's happening?! The noises grew louder and he felt terror grip at his soul. I....can't fight back? What's going on?!

He turned around and began to run. The tree branches seemed to grab at his clothes, like icy hands tearing at his clothes. He tripped over something and fell face first into the snow. "N-Ngh...." He wiped his face away, only to freeze when he noticed what was on his face. "D.....dust..."

"Help us...." Lost turned around as the voice echoed in the distance. Something grabbed his leg and he tugged away. A hand made of dust released him, but tried to grab him again. "Help....please...."

"We're so scared...." Another hand grabbed his left leg, the hand hot and sticky. He looked down to see the hand was formed of blood and bone, the bone piercing his pale skin. He shook and screamed, trying to get out of their hold.

"Let me go!"

"Please help!"

"They're coming!"

"They'll eat us!"

"No...no stop....stop it please!" Lost could hear loud, pounding footsteps coming and his eyes widened. The creature was large and dripping, the smell of its breath like rotting corpses and mold. The creature loomed before him and his Soul seized up. "L...let go..."

"It's coming....."

"It's there...."

"It's here!"

"Ah!" Lost's eyes snapped open and he fell out of his bed. He rubbed his head, groaning slightly. "Ugh......damnit...." He listened for a few moments, sighing when no one stirred in the house. "Good...didn't wake anyone." He slowly stood up and sat on the edge of his bed, burying his face in his hands. "Fuck.....what the hell is with these nightmares?" He walked over to the coatrack and slipped on his blue hoodie, then he put on his usual slippers. He grabbed the small cellphone Frisk had gotten him and headed outside.

Locking the door behind him, he breathed in the night air and began to slowly walk down the street. I've forgotten why I never slept... he thought, hand stuffed in his pockets. He looked up at the sky, his sharp eyes still able to pick out a few, dim stars, the rest blocked by city lights. He wandered into the deserted park, glancing around before sitting on an iron bench.

The moon shone down gently on the pond, the small stirrings on the water making the reflection waver. It's a rather peaceful night out here... He smiled a little. It's so calm and quiet.... Lost sighed and looked down at his hands. Do I...even deserve this kind of peace? After everything I've done.... He gripped his hands into a tight fist, nails almost cutting skin. After all the lives these hands have stolen....do I dare to even think I deserve this chance?

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Xans walked down the street, a slight limp to his steps. "Heh, damn that guy really hit me hard..." He smirked and licked his lips. "Then again...I was able ta give as much as he took..." He chuckled to himself before stopping. A streetlight flickered above him as he looked around. Huh.... He closed his eyes and focused before he picked up on a familiar presence. Lost? What the hell is he doin' out 'ere?

He snuck behind a tree to watch the young man gazing out at the water. He had an odd, lonely look to him that made Xans's Soul and gut twinge at the sight. The moonlight made the white tips of his hair and skin give off a faint glow. To Xans, in that brief moment, he almost looked ethereal. The moonlight was covered by a cloud and the moment passed. Huh....

"I just...don't know..." Lost whispered to himself before sighing. Xans walked over and Lost turned, red eye flashing as a faint red glow covered his left hand.

"Who-"

"Take it easy there Lost." Xans raised his hands and the glow faded. "Yeesh, ya glow around every handsome guy ya come across?" Lost just shook his head and Xans frowned. Huh....he usually retorts....what the fuck?

"Sorry Xans." Xans just stared at him as he turned back around. His shoulders were slightly slumped, making him almost look small in the shadows of the trees around them. "I just...I'm tired." Xans frown deepened as Lost brought his legs up to his chest, resting his chin on his knees. Xans moved and sat next to him, wincing a little as his still sore rear sat on the iron.

"Wanna talk about it?"

"There's nothing to talk about." Lost said quickly. "Just....I'm just tired."

"Of?"

"......I don't really know. Everything and nothing...." He admitted softly.

"Life...death....pain and joy.....just..." He sighed and shook his head, hiding his face behind his legs. "I don't know." Xans placed an arm around Lost's shoulders, feeling him flinch and almost pull away. But he stopped and instead let the virus pull him gently closer.

"I don' have a fucking clue what's eatin' at ya. And yer refusal to talk about it doesn't help out much." He felt Lost tighten his grip on himself and shook his head. "But...ya don't have to worry. Ya got people here ta lean on, alright?" He felt Lost slump against him and he turned to him. "Oi, Lost?" Lost's legs slid from where they had been and for a small moment, Xans felt panic grip him. "Lost?!" He looked down and sighed when he saw Lost's face. Sleeping...ya damned jerk.

He watched as Lost shifted a little closer as a breeze blew past, making him shiver. Heh...ya'd prolly be blushin' like mad right now if ya were awake... He thought. He brushed a few strands from Lost's forehead to gaze down at his face. Dark circles were visible under his eyes, and Xans noticed how his body sagged from exhaustion. He sighed and looked up at the night sky. I can't wake 'im up. He looks.....happy. Xans frowned and looked back down at him. Happy, huh? Ta be fair...he's never happy around me. Then again I tease the shit outta him, but... Lost's head slipped against his shoulder, leaving a comforting warmth.

Xans watched as his chest rose and fell, his breathing even and deep. He shifted and lifted Lost into his arms with ease. "Alrighty...let's get home, hmm? So we're not sleepin' out here and catching a cold." He closed his eyes and focused on the living room. He opened them and he frowned a bit. He was standing in the kitchen, just a few feet from the blanketed couch and roll out bed. Weird...I know I teleported us ta the living room....whatever.

He walked over and placed Lost on his bed after removing his slippers and hoodie. Hanging the jacket up and placing the slippers by his bed, he made his way under the covers on the couch. Lost had turned to face him in his sleep, letting out a soft sigh and a tiny smile graced his features. Whatever the hell is eating at ya Lost...I hope it isn't that bad. Yer with all of us after all.... He smiled a little and closed his eyes. Night Lost....ya big softie.

#yaoi #lostxxans #undervirus #losttale #sansfangirl4life #jeyawue #undertale #undertaleau #humanlost #humanxans #soulsofglass

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crushingonrazz · 6 years

Link

The link above will lead you to the reworked chapter, just like how 15 worked. Below the cut is the significantly shittier version of the ending of Tenacity.

The epilogue is the same for both versions, and will just be on Ao3 like the rest of the story.

Blue had forgotten how soft his scarf was.

He ran his fingers along its bright blue surface, reveling in the texture even as his mind is screaming at him to snatch his hand away.

Intellectually, he was aware that there was no reason to. The dust was held in a delicately carved glass ornament, specially made for the purpose it served and placed carefully on top of the dresser. If he looked up, just a glance, he could see it. He could assure himself that the scarf is clean. He didn't. But he knew he could.

The bag he pulled down from the top shelf of the bedroom closet was nearly half as big as he is, but it still seemed too small. After retrieving what few items Razz owned, placing them inside, it had become very clear that he would also be taking only what was absolutely necessary.

He had already broken the rule twice. Once for Stretch’s baby blanket, the last reminder of a little brother that had once looked up to him like he could change the world. Once for a hardbound children’s book, stained and torn but held so dearly to his soul that once he noticed it on the shelf, he couldn’t bear to leave it behind. The bag was quickly filling with clothes, shoes, and other essentials, and space was beginning to run low.

He shouldn’t bring the scarf.

It was basically useless, unable to be worn as the clothing it is. He could barely bring himself to touch it, let alone tie it around his neck like he used to. He shouldn’t pack it.

Picking it up, he brushed his thumbs over the cloth, staring down at it like it held the answers to the universe. He couldn’t bring the dust. He knew better than to even consider stealing something like that from Sans and Red. Especially Sans.

Carefully, he folded the blue cloth into a smaller square, tucking it into the bag before turning back to the dresser.

He made short work of the rest of his packing, pointedly ignoring his tighter clothing in favor of what was loose and roomy. If he was going to have to replace everything he owned, he may as well start out with some clothes he’d actually be able to wear for a while. Then he zipped the bag, taking a step back and looking down at himself. That was everything, right? He had shirts and pants and--

Oh.

His left hand rose, turning from side to side to watch the metal of his wedding band gleam. They’d had to be specially ordered, made with three colors of magic instead of two. The weaving strands of blue, navy, and red had been on his finger for so long that he’d nearly forgotten it was there.

Working it off the phalanx carefully, he turned, setting it on the dresser next to the carved glass that held their baby’s dust.

One last look around the the room, then he settled the strap over his shoulder, pulling it off the bed and nearly falling over with the weight of it. He groaned, setting it back on the ground as he rethought how to make this work. The most frustrating part of it was that he knew he would have easily been able to carry it if half of his magic wasn’t going to the soulling. He paused, settling a hand over his midriff. He allowed himself the barest smile, closing his eyes as he focused on the feeling of his child. His second chance.

He jumped as noise blasted from his pocket, tugging out his phone quickly and hitting accept as soon as he saw the Caller ID. “Hi.”

“Hey,” Razz said, and Blue’s smile grew at the sound of his voice, holding the phone closer to his ear as the other continued. “We’re finishing up here. Slim is going to stay the night again, apparently, so it’s going to take me a little longer than usual to get back.”

“Okay,” he responded. “I’m packed, and I...I told Red. Sans probably knows by now.”

“Are you okay?” His voice was so full of worry, Blue’s smile flashed back onto his face for a moment.

“Yeah. I’m just ready to go. I want to say goodbye before I do.”

“Of course. Be careful, and I’ll see you in a few minutes.” There was a pause, then, “And...Blue?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

His soul warmed, filling with Razz’s emotion alongside his own. “I love you too. See you soon.”

The phone clicked as Razz hung up, and Blue tucked his phone back into his pocket, taking a deep breath before pulling the bag back onto his shoulder, stepping out of the room and closing the door behind him. He shifted the bag one more time before he made his way to the stairs, descending slowly as he huffed from the effort of carrying this much weight with so little magic.

He was cursing under his breath, almost all the way down the stairs before he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder, taking the bag from his grip. He looked up to see Sans descending the stairs ahead of him, setting the bag on the floor before turning back to face him.

Sans’ face was tear-streaked, blue staining the bone under his eyes as he watched Blue come downstairs more slowly. They made eye contact for a moment, and Sans’ mouth trembled before he spoke.

“Hi.”

His voice broke on the single word, and Blue’s soul contracted with guilt.

“Hello.”

Hesitating, Sans folded his arms. “So you’re… you’re really leaving?”

“Yes,” He replied quietly.

“Where will you go?”

“He has a place, over in Waterfall.”

Sans opened his mouth, then closed it, finally looking at the floor. He started to speak again, but cut himself off halfway through the first syllable. Finally, he shook his head, lifting his chin as he gave up asking his question.

“Make sure you still go to the doctor,” he murmured instead. “Red is angry, and… so am I? But just… take care of yourself, o-okay?”

Blue nodded, holding back tears. Despite everything, he really didn’t like seeing Sans in pain. “Are you guys going to be okay?” he couldn’t help but ask. “With… with the house, and getting to work, and--”

“I’m sure we’ll figure it out.”

Sans’ voice was still soft, and he hesitated again to glance towards the kitchen doorway. Then he stepped forward, pulling Blue into a tight hug. Blue returned the hold, arms wrapped around his back and face pressed to his clavicle.

“I still want you to be happy, Blue,” Sans whispered, voice just barely audible even right next to him like Blue was. “I’m sorry that we didn’t see that you weren’t.”

Blue didn’t reply, closing his eyes and hugging impossibly tighter until Sans pulled away, wiping at his eyes.

“D-do you need a shortcut anywhere?”

“No, I’m--”

“I thought you were leaving.”

They both jumped, facing the kitchen doorway to see Red, standing with his arms crossed and glaring directly at Blue. His first instinct was to glare back, but he refrained, drawing himself up.

“I wanted to say goodbye.”

“Goodbye.”

Blue sighed. “I am sorry to have hurt you, Red.”

“I don’t care how sorry you are,” he growled, straightening up and advancing a few steps into the room. “You should have talked to us about how you were hurting, trusted us. A marriage is about trust, Blue! And you tossed that out the window, so don’t pretend you care what happens to us. Just go.”

“Red--”

“Sans. He’s making his own choice. He’s made his own choice.”

Blue swallowed, looking away. “I’m so sorry.”

“Yes. You said that.”

“Red,” said Sans, more quietly this time. Red glared at the ground, but went silent, and Sans turned back to Blue. “Will we ever see you again?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Blue saw Red shift, closing his eyes and clenching his teeth. Blue pretended he couldn’t see the tears gathering under his sockets.

“I don’t want to cut you out. Either of you,” he added, glancing again at Red. “You’ve been so important to me for so long that I couldn’t really imagine never seeing you again. But it’s up to you. I’d understand if you don’t want to, and I’m not going to force you to--”

“We’ll have to see each other again to sign the divorce papers, won’t we?” Red spat, and Blue flinched, closing his eyes for a moment before turning to fully face him.

“Yes. We will.” Red looked shocked at the honesty, but Blue continued on without pause. “I’m making a new life for myself. I hope that the two of you will be able to do the same.” A wry smile twisted his face. “It shouldn’t be too different, after all.”

“No, Blue--”

“Don’t give him what he wants, Sans.”

Blue opened his mouth to reply, then closed it again, sighing as he reached up to rub his face. He didn’t know how to--

A spike of anxiety hit his soul, and he jumped, recognizing the feeling as belonging to Razz only when the door had already been opened, the other entering after kicking the snow off his boots. Blue could feel him projecting as he did so, a tentative sort of concern making its way across their bond. He was quick to respond with reassurance and anticipation, hoping he was signalling his intent to get out of here as soon as possible.

“Did you know?”

Razz looked up to where Red was standing, blinking in surprise. “What?”

“You’re his best friend, aren’t you?” he demanded, throwing a hand harshly in Blue’s direction. “Did you know he was fucking around like a cheap whor--” He choked out a sob in the middle of the word, hands coming up and digging into the sides of his skull as he stalked away and then came back, too angry to give up but too hurt to get the slur all the way out. “Did he tell you?”

Face flashing with understanding, Razz glanced at Blue before returning his focus to Red. He forced a shrug, but Blue could see the stiffness of his shoulders and back hidden in the motion. “I don’t know what you’re--”

“Why are you lying?” Red demanded, taking a pace forward. Tears were leaking freely down his face, but he made no move to push them aside. “We already know he’s been… been r-riding the neighborhood, you don’t need to keep his secrets anymore!”

Razz took a step back, hands coming up in defensive posture as he opened his mouth. Before he could say anything, however, Blue heaved his bag back onto his shoulder, speaking quietly in an attempt to avoid further upset. “Razz, can you please help me get this outside? I need to get out of--

“Hang on,” Sans said, settling an hand on Blue’s arm at the same time that Red snarled out a “Stop.” He was looking between them, eyes narrowed as his hands balled into fists at his sides.

“Blue. Who was it?”

He forced his eyes to stay locked on Red’s, refusing to even glance at Razz. “Red, it doesn’t--”

“Who did you cheat on us with?!”

Sans let go of his arm, taking half a pace toward Red, but before any of them could react, Red shortcutted across the room, seizing Blue by the wrists and squeezing just to the point of pain. “Whose fucking child is that?!”

Blue cried out, more in surprise than pain, then Razz was between them, slipping his fingers into the pressure points on Red’s carpals and forcing him to let go of his hold. “Don’t touch him like that, you fucking--”

The sound of Red’s fist colliding with Razz’s face was a horrible sort of crunching noise, ringing out into the dead silence of the living room. Razz groaned, doubling over as he reached for his skull. Red hauled back again, and Blue cried out as Razz stumbled back into him, nearly sending them both to the ground.

“Red!” Sans shouted, his voice a mix of disbelief and horror, but Red ignored him, eyelight flashing with excess magic. “How fucking dare you. How fucking--” A blaster materialized in the air behind him, and Blue grabbed Razz to him, pulling him out of range before he could--

“Stop!”

Blue looked up to see that Sans had a hold on Red’s arm, breathing heavy as he forced the other to look at him.

“Red, you need to stop! This isn’t going to solve anything!”

Shaking, Red forced himself to relax. His chest was heaving, anger clashing with the misery in his expression as he snarled, “We showed you mercy, you fucking bastard! Do you have any idea what you’re putting our family through?”

Razz had straightened, and Blue stood just to his side, one hand gripping Razz’s arm. He examined the injury to the other’s face, relieved to find it minimal. One of the cracks in his eye sockets seemed to be widened, but it was barely noticable. Tears still sprang to his eyes at the magic running freely from his chin, and Blue turned to look at Red. “It’s not just his fault!”

“Don’t even get me started on you!”

Sans sucked in a sharp breath, and Blue looked to see the other’s eyes locked on the place where his hand was in contact with Razz’s arm. After a split second of hesitation, Blue let go, dropping his grip instead to clutch tightly to his hand. Razz squeezed back, glancing down to meet Blue’s eyes before looking back up at Red. “We never wanted to--”

“You have no clue!” Red yelled, voice breaking on the last word. “You have no idea what we’ve stood through together, what this is going to do to… to Sans!”

Sans didn’t move, still focused on Razz and Blue’s clasped hands.

“Maybe if you’d been as concerned about Blue as you are about Sans, he wouldn’t have been so lonely he needed me!” Razz shot back, grip tightening. Sans finally looked up, expression stricken, but Red was seething, finally wiping away the tears streaking his face.

“Fuck you, you have no idea the sacrifices we’ve made for each other! You have no idea what we were missing, and there is nothing to excuse the fact that he tossed six years of trust back into our faces! There’s nothing to excuse you living under our roof and taking advantage of the opportunity to get your fucking dick wet!”

“I was ready to give up my child so that he could be happy with you--”

“I don’t give a shit what you were ready to give up!” Red’s voice was shaking, but he powered on. “I was ready to be a father! I was ready to have a family, and I have always been ready to give up on that dream in order to be with the two people I love more than life! And you have the fucking gall to blame me for not reading his fucking mind?! To pretend it was our fault that he never even trusted us enough to tell us--” He cut off, breath choking in a sob, and Sans wrapped an arm around his waist. “Fuck you,” Red managed to force out. “Fuck both of you. Get the hell out of our house, Razz, and take the fucking trash out with you.”

Razz took a step forward, but Blue tugged on his hand. He was shaking, and the guilt and sadness filling his soul finally seemed to reach Razz because he flinched, looking back at him in concern. He opened his mouth, but Blue shook his head.

“Let’s go, Razz. Let’s just go.”

After a second of hesitation, Razz took the bag from Blue’s shoulder, settling it on his own. Something crashed in the kitchen, and Blue looked up to see that Red had disappeared, leaving Sans to stand alone in the middle of the living room.

They locked eyes, just for a moment.

Blue turned around, following Razz out the front door and into the cold of Snowdin. They walked in silence for a few seconds. Blue took a shaky breath, zipping his coat snugly around his stomach.

“Are you okay, Blue?”

He looked up to see Razz watching him out of the corner of his eye. “I will be.”

“Did they ever do anything wrong? Or hurt you?”

There was a long pause. “I don’t think they meant to,” he finally murmured.

Razz seemed to think this over, then dropped Blue’s hand to loop an arm around his waist, drawing him in closer.

“Razz?”

The hold tightened. “Yes?”

“Do you trust me?”

He wasn’t sure if Razz could even hear him at first, his voice came out so quietly, but he couldn’t bring himself to repeat the question.

Razz stopped walking, bringing Blue to a stop as well as he looked down to meet his eyes. “Always,” he murmured, his soul in Blue’s proving the truth of the statement.

“Why?” Blue asked, voice breaking as he looked up at the most beautiful monster he had ever met. “You saw what I--”

“I have very good reason to make this work,” Razz interrupted, tilting his head to one side. “I love you.” As it had the last few times, Blue’s soul made it known exactly what he thought of those words. Razz smiled.

“And I can feel you in here, loving me too. That’s as good a reason as any, I would think.”

#rottenberry #classiccherryberry #physical violence #someone gets punched in the face #it's not who you want it to be #sorry lmao

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keelywolfe · 5 years

Text

FIC: Partners in Grime (baon)

Summary: Stretch has survived a lot over the years. Surviving Edge's vacation week should be a piece of cake.

Tags: Spicyhoney, Established Relationship, Domestic Fluff, Mentions of Depression

part of the ‘by any other name’

Read on AO3

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