what-have-i-unleashed

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hey hey hey hey HEY! It's called Duspic, not EpicDust!!!!! *Chases*

fun fact i am 100 meters from your general locaion and approaching in rapid succession. Start running.

/hj nsrs

duspic...... what a cursed name.......

fine, it's not epicdust 😒😒😒 it's EPICMURDER 🙏🙏🙏 now that name is more... heh, epic don't you think?

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THAT GHOST MARRIAGE EPIMADA AU IS ROTTING MY BRAIN HELP

guys...... i think im slowly getting epicdust-pilled

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guys...... i think im slowly getting epicdust-pilled

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Undertale (Video Game) Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Sans/Sans (Undertale) Characters: Sans (Undertale) Additional Tags: Dusttale Sans (Undertale), Underfell Sans (Undertale), Dusttale Sans/Underfell Sans (Undertale), POV Second Person, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Unhealthy Relationships, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Suicidal Thoughts, Doomed Relationship Summary:

what a comforting thought - that nothing good lasts forever.

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who wants some dustard

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people I wish I knew better

(suprised) tagged by @qin-qin16

favorite color: purple 💜🟣🟪 im purple no.1 lover

currently reading: until i love myself by poppu pesuyama! lots of triggering topics for be warned, but the story is so good and eye-opening really.

last song: sympathy is a knife by charli xcx 😭😭😭 what was my playlist DOING??

last movie: sinners (2025) 🙏🙏🙏 ITS SO PEAK ITS SO GOOD I WAS CRYING IN THEATER BECAUSE OF HOW GOOD IT IS

last series: man i'm watching apothecary diaries right now.... lemme count this as last PLEASE i don't remember the last one i watched

sweet/salty/savory: hmmm depends but i do like sweet :3

tea or coffee? coffee all the way 🙏🙏🙏 black as my soul too please

working on: that reworked dustard fic that should be done in pride month..........

tagging @peach-flavored-cyanide and @kin-nit if you don't mind hehe :3

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Blue screen of death

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no i will not reveal myself but be warned i am writing a masterplan to boil everything with my love for dust/bird even though i got no ship name for them. So BE PREPARED, and en garde.

*hides behind a mask and slides down into the bin with a concrete sliding noise*

SHOW YOURSELD COWARD

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im dust/bird's biggest fan what are you talking about?!?!??!?! get back here

/hj

show yourself then..... coward 😒😒😒

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And what if i. were slightly self indulgent

This took Ages to finish. Mostly bc I made the 1st page and then dropped it for 2 months and then returned to it yesterday with a vehemence of a rabid hyena coked up on adrenaline. It's a miracle I even finished this comic because I never finish any art that requires more than 10h of continuous work. You can literally see how I ran out of fuel at the last panels lmao.

Anyways. Wanted to do a closer look into their physical differences via a silly scenario. And also practice drawing comics for. future stuff that will also take a while to draw >:[8 And practice dialogue. Does the dialogue (monologue? characterisation through text) feel natural? fuck if I know

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you keep telling me to live right

i have chosen to call them dustyfeathers! it's a very cute name, albeit a bit basic but who cares. they only have one fan and it's me smh 😔

also i almost forgot about bird/crow birthday holy hell. thank the ancestors that i wrote most of this while being stuck in the airport immigration line 🙏

note for warning for spoilers of the long fic (that i haven't updated in 6months it's over)

It's chilly outside.

Murder is sitting on the front porch, idly watching the stars above, a cigarette in one hand as he rolls it between his nicotine-stained fingers. He knows it's a bad habit, but as with many things, this has become something that he couldn't shake off no matter how much he's tried.

At least he tries. For his guest - partner, fiance, whatever - at least.

Crow doesn't like it when Murder smokes. He doesn't say it, but Murder is anything but unobservant. The ash from the smoke would cling to Crow's wings, the smell lingering for hours. Crow's smile would slightly strain at the corners as he tries to shake off the ash by fluffing his wings every once in a while, his shoulders rolling uncomfortably, the bones rattling almost imperceptibly. He'd ask to open the windows or to go outside, to air out the smell obviously. And when he comes back in the house, he'd find Murder's cigarette conspicuously missing from his hand, the only evidence that he has smoked being the dusty smell and the faint smoke from the ashtray.

Murder has learned to refrain from smoking around Crow. He's learned to accommodate his unexpected partner aplenty.

Crow is the only one Murder cares to do this for, apart from Reaper of course.

Crow is the only one allowed to visit the recluse skeleton on a regular basis in this lone cabin in the woods. Most of the residents in the Omega Timeline are not stupid enough to show up on his doorstep. It is a good arrangement all in all. Murder has no desire to see anyone either, least of all someone doubtlessly having some grievance against him.

So lost in his thoughts, Murder almost misses it when Crow appears behind him in a rush of dark feathers. He jolts at the rustling sound, but before he can turn around, a blanket is thrown over his shoulders. Crow takes a seat next to him, still in his pajamas. Murder feels something akin to admonishment - Crow must have woken up and searched for him when he didn't see him on the bed. Maybe he should have stayed, to assure Crow that he hasn't run away to do something reckless again. Maybe he shouldn't have given into his urges, showing the other his shameful vice that he often hides behind his gloves and peppermint gum. He's gotten better, sure, but not enough to wash all of his shame away.

"can't sleep?" Crow breaks the silence and also Murder's stupor. The hooded skeleton quickly turns away and extinguishes his cigarette, stamping the butt repeatedly on the ground before flicking the whole stick away.

"something like that," Murder murmurs the answer, not wanting to say the only reason he's out here is because he was craving a smoke in the middle of the night.

Crow only looks at him, his gaze not searching but it makes Murder squirm nonetheless. After a few quiet seconds, the winged monster speaks up again.

"mm, can't really fault you. the sky here is always beautiful to look at. or maybe..." He glances at Murder with a half-smile. "it's just stellar company."

Murder lets out a surprised laugh at that. "guess i'm just star-struck by your brillance then."

Crow laughs back, and they both fall into a companionable silence. Just two of them staring at the night sky, a few feet apart.

"say," Crow hums after a moment of silence. "there's an event at my workplace this week. do you want to come with?"

"oh?"

"just some celebration party, you know? we just hit another milestone this quarter." Crow grins, before his demeanor turns sheepish. "we were told to bring a plus-one, and, uh..."

He scratches his head, gaze turned elsewhere but at Murder's eyes.

"i want..." he starts, then pauses, as if considering his words. "i want to introduce you to my work cohort. properly this time."

Oh.

Murder is struck with the thought of how kissable Crow's face is right now. Instinctively, his fingers dances between Crow's clawed ones. The other monster pauses to look down at their intertwined hands.

Stupidly, Murder leans forward. To his luck - and surprise - Crow doesn't move away. His pupils are wide in a way that Murder hasn't seen before.

don't.

The voice cuts through his hazy mind like a knife through butter. He freezes, as if only now realizing the situation he's in.

what are you doing?

don't you remember? everything you touch dies.

(His house, empty of presence. His hometown, filled with dust. His universe, gone. Nothing left other than him, its last remnant. The murderer. The unforgivable.

The Doctor was right. Maybe he shouldn't have returned home at all. Maybe he should have learned to be content with his solitude in the towers - just a small sacrifice to save the lives of many. He would never have known his brother, but maybe his brother would have been safe from him. Everyone would have been safe from him.

In the end, he was/is just a selfish child.)

you have to let him go.

But he can't find it in himself to do so. His cold, bare hand is locked in Crow's much warmer one, the heat melting away whatever walls he has. How long has it been since he touched another living thing like this? How long has it been since he last had to beg for scraps of kindness amd intimacy? How long has it been since he had someone so wholly on his side, caring for him like this?

If his tortorous time under servitude to a malevolent god has taught him anything, it's that nothing good lasts forever.

And he's always been an awfully, horribly selfish person.

"can i kiss you?" he asks between the whispers of the wind, his eyes trained upon the miniscule of changes on Crow's frozen expression.

"... yeah," Crow whispers back, his voice breathless.

Hand squeezing the other's assuringly, Murder gradually closes the distance between them. When his face is only inches away from Crow's, the winged skeleton shoots his hand forward, grabbing the front of his shirt. Murder pauses, his gaze on Crow inquiring. Instead of pushing him away, Crow tugs at his shirt, pulling him in, his breath anticipatory.

Crow closes his eyes.

Murder tilts his head.

Their faces slot together. Almost too perfectly.

Murder can hear his partner's breath hitch, can feel his shoulders tense and his wings brushing against the top of his head - as if shielding them away from any secret watching eye. He can taste the other, a mixture of heedy want and quiet anticipation, like the earthly flora before rain. It is warm and faintly nostalgic, this feeling of finally getting what he wants after so long. And he only wants more, like the greedy sinner that he is.

He hums, feeling the adorable surprised chirp from Crow reverberating straight into his ribcage as he only leans his frame more against the other. His SOUL flares, and he can feel Crow's own SOUL clumsily responding to his intent. He can feel how elated his partner is - how safe and warm and wonderful and amazing he is to Crow - the emotion mixing and looping back to him until he can't tell where he starts and where Crow ends. Their knees touch. Murder's other hand raises to hold the back of Crow's neck, pulling him closer and closer. He wants to drink it all - all this cautious adoration, all this pulsing desire, all of Crow. He wants to dig into the other, wants to know what Crow loves about him so much, wants to know what he could have done to deserve this-

that's the thing. you don't.

he's too good for you.

He knows, but he still wants. He still desires.

He's not good for Crow. He'll never be.

His SOUL is incapable of this, of reciprocating, of generating its own overwhelming and all-consuming affection for his partner. It can only copy, making a poor mimicry of what love is supposed to feel.

"i love you," Crow murmurs against his teeth, his face flushed and eyes so full of happiness that Murder doesn't want to break.

"... me too," he mutters back, his SOUL suddenly leaden with something he couldn't name. It's too familiar. It's too predictable. A song and dance he's all too used to.

No, this time it'll be different. This time it'll work. This time he'll force his feeble, mangled SOUL to do its job.

Crow blinks, his eyelights losing their fuzziness at the corner as he leans back and looks at Murder searchingly. He squeezes his hand, bringing it up to give it a light peck. Murder just watches, unable to feel anything but the tingling sensation in his kissed fingers. His chest feels vastly empty, now that the warmth of the other's essence is gone.

"it's okay," Crow says, nuzzling into his deadly dust-stained hand. "take your time. i'll wait."

This is fine. Murder sits there, basking in the warmth of the other's wings. He can learn to love Crow, one day. Some day. Like a proper lover should. Like what a normal couple should be. Right now, this is enough. This is more than he deserves anyway. He can't believe how lucky he is, receiving a gift from the gods, from his idol.

He resists the urge to shake.

It's chilly inside.

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do i get a seat in the opinion room for this

hello world thoughts and opinions on me (and an unknown sponsor) making mtt week a real thing

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happy birthday killer sans 😒‼️

"looks like it hurts. seems like a pretty painful way to come back from death's doorstep."

"of course you'd know. but i'd say... this type of hurt probably doesn't feel that bad."

"and how's that, dust? his soul is corrupting, he's choking on his own blood, and he cant even see!"

"doesn't matter. determination gives killer control over death that we never had."

"and control suddenly makes it better?"

1 | 2 | 3

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GAY PEOPLE WHY CAN'T THEY BE NORMAL 😭😭😭

QIN THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS MAH DUSTARD BSJBCJKJCMSD ITS THEMMMM 🌭🧣 I HAVE TO EXPLODE THEM WHY ARE THEY LIKE THIS 💥💥💥

the vibes.... the vibes is that red is a bastard who knows too much... and he's not telling ash because DOOMED DUSTARD 💔💔💔 i have a feeling he knows a previous murder, probably ash himself but ash doesn't remember..... because they're DOOMED 💥💥💥 the way red is so familiar and easy around ash, he knoooows that guy for sureeeee 💔💔💔 i wanna mash them up so bad ASH TAKE A HINT ALREADYYYY

anyway thank you qin 🙏🙏🙏 idm that the gift is late, im just happy that i got one from you 💖💖💖 this will be fuel for my (checks note) 5k dustard fic trust trust

No me mires con esos ojos

Pairing. Murder Sans x Fell Sans

Content. SFW! Smoking, bittersweet fic (angst if you squint), identity issues, slightly ooc Red…

A/n. My almost two months late White’s Day gift to @what-have-i-unleashed, FORGIVE ME!! And uhhh i use Ash as Murder’s name because its better than calling him Murder?? And i lack creativity for the end, utmv has been out of my obsession area recently… 

The lighter’s clicks were nothing more than irritating snaps echoing inside his skull — sparks flaring for an instant before vanishing along with their purpose, leaving behind an untouched cigarette clamped between his teeth.

“C’mon…” Sans muttered impatiently, his patience already extinguished by the third useless spark. This was his last cigarette.

Just minutes earlier — before his ribs trembled beneath his thick, dust-laden coat, begging for the familiar warmth of his smokes — Sans had been in the comfort of a near-empty café, serving a handful of monster patrons. Sans? So good to see ya, buddy! One of them had exclaimed the moment he walked in, dragging every eye toward his hooded figure.

At least this dimension’s Sans shared the same nasty habit — his not-quite-an-excuse for smoking seemed to raise no suspicions, and soon he was alone again.

How he loved the silence, the solitude when the voices finally quieted, when his sins seemed to soften with every long drag — his ribs not even bothering to contain the thick smoke that seeped through them.

Even now, standing outside, he could still feel the warmth radiating from the customers, the love poured into every meal. But here he was, wrapped in the lonely embrace of the icy wind, the only soul left on the sidewalk.

Sans growled again; the lighter remained stubbornly dry in his hand. “Damn it…” The mutter nearly dislodged the cigarette from his teeth — the last one, he reminded himself.

“Losing to a lighter? Seriously?” Sans lifted his gaze, momentarily forgetting the useless thing in his hand. It didn’t take long to spot Red’s figure a short distance away, a half-burned cigarette already dangling from his teeth.

The gold tooth glinted under the poor lighting, flashing beneath those burning crimson eyes. “Don’t look at me like that,” Red tilted his head, amused by the expression on Sans’ face — or rather, the Sans he’d been. “No need to fake surprise.” He stepped closer, his tone shifting from a humor-laced grunt to outright provocation, dripping onto Sans like an annoying leak.

“The hell’re you doin’ here?” There was no hiding the anger; the snarl escaped before Sans even registered how strange his bones felt — trembling, but not from the usual side effects of high LV. His gaze darted frantically over Red’s figure before settling on some neutral point on his face, anywhere but those eyes.

Red’s only reply was a shrug, barely visible under his fancy, oversized coat. “Just takin’ a walk. Y’know how it is. Needed a break from the crowd.” Before long, he was just steps away from Ash, studying those frantic eyes with a slow exhale of smoke (they didn’t even blink, locked onto his face). “And you?”

“What?” The question caught him off guard.

“What’re you doin’ here? You’re a long way from home, ain’tcha?” How had he gotten so close? “Need a hand with that?” Oh, how Ash despised Red’s smug grin. How he hated it. It was like a physical manifestation of Red knowing every thought in his skull — like he was flaunting everything Ash had ever wanted.

Like he enjoyed rubbing it in.

“Don’t mind sharin’.” He dug into his pockets, finally tearing those crimson spotlights away — freeing Ash from their glare. A beat later, a small lighter emerged from Red’s coat, cradled in his palm.

One, two clicks — the flame caught on the third try.

“…You always offer help to strangers?” Ash relented, leaning slightly toward the fire.

With the brief burn of embers came a bitter chuckle. “Ain’t like you’re one.” Red pulled the lighter back. “Am I wrong… Sans?”

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why do i have to be in a dustard mood right now 😭😭😭 birdtale sans IM SORRY ILL MAKE UP FOR YOU LATER WAIT I HAVE THAT FIC I'VE WRITTEN I'LL POST IT HERE

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I FORGOT FUCK

Tomorrow is birdtale sans birthday!!! Hip hip

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i wrote like 3k of doomed dustard it's time to mash them all into one coherent fic