That’s… Certainly Is A List…

Dream Sans

How could he have known? How could a child understand the sins of selfishness? Well, he's now older, and Dream is tired of it all

Headcanons below, please note some things aren't canon to the actual story because I straight up just changed it for my own idea of the AU.

Some CW is light self harm and mentions of past abuse and distressing panic attacks.

- Official height 5'7

- He/They

- Positive nihilist

- The embodiment and King of Positivity. A God if you will

- They're strict when it comes to the safety of others

- Naturally warm to the touch, he doesn't get cold easily if at all

- He dreams of other versions of himself, but can never find them. He wonders if they're even real

- Has a staff that turns into a bow & arrow or even a harp

- The harp is something he plays as a hobby, but the music that comes out can put normal souls to sleep and dream happy thoughts

- Cries loudly, sniffles and whimpers. He can't stop crying once it starts and he tries to hide his face

- open-minded, carefully optimistic, intelligent, serious, kind, well mannered, loyal, cleaner, creative, assertive, pacifist, honest, patient, charismatic, trustworthy, cheerful, and reflective

- They're self reflective, he reflects on things about the world and about others frequently

- He holds an air of maturity different than others, due to his time in the multiverse

- He does not get close to others, not often anyways

- He used to follow fate, but grew to revolt against it and even "make his own reality"

- Has a yellow powder that can put others to sleep if they're exhausted already or deprived of it. But, if they're well rested, it just soothes said soul

- He can read people very easily, often picking up on body language and details that not even the monster or human is aware of

- He loves any nicknames given to him and he treasures them since that initiates a deeper level of intimacy and gentleness that he lacks in relationships. However, no one is allowed to call him Sunny since that's what Nightmare used to call him. In turn, he used to call Nightmare Nighty

- He feels every emotion others have but can only influence happiness by giving it to others or taking it away

- He has synesthesia, able to see emotions and even smell them

- He loves the color yellow and so he aims for yellow outfits, but his favorite color is actually blue and purple since it reminds him of Nightmare

- The back of his cloak looks like a cloak that was ripped into a scarf, but it can magically form into wings

- His favorite flowers are sunflowers, poppy flowers, marigolds and lilies of the valley. These flowers actually are very symbolic to his past. I suggest looking at flower language :-)

- He is always reminded of his brother when the color purple or blue appears, so he sometimes collects jewelry with gems of those colors

- He encourages rest for others but he himself struggles to sleep and even resents it to some extent due to his bad dreams. He always has nightmares, never dreams. It's always the same scene, but it changes from time to time. It always ends with seeing his brother change due to the corruption

- He is capable of going into other people's dreams and altering them to something more positive. However, he cannot do this for himself and he is almost always forgotten inside the dreams he visits

- He doesn't lie unless necessary, since he hates lying in general

- His hobbies are playing the harp, writing poetry, and making flower crowns

- His favorite snack is bananas or apple pie

- He can't stand being near statues and gets uncomfortable since he has to constantly remind himself that they're not actually sentient in any way. He used to be one after all

- He doesn't understand slang very well since his form of speaking is very formal

- They have a love for architecture, often fangirling over large and elegant architectural buildings

- He has a pet owl, but he has to summon it first. It happens to be that of a golden color, as it appears to be that of a magic species. The creator says he has a fear of owls but y'know what I say screw that!(/hj)

- He is a bit of a germaphobe, but not to an extreme extent

- Very touch oriented, he learns best through touch and sensations. You won't see him without his gloves, however, unless he's healing

- He doesn't tolerate hatred towards others, as it reminds him of how he failed his brother while he was bullied and terrorized by the village of his past

- He is wonderful with children and loves to be around them when possible, he tends to gravitate towards lonely children in order to comfort them though, since it reminds him of himself and his brother

- He is the best at giving advice, as he has to learn the hard way of living by being alone for so long

- His relationship with Ink is complex as both were childish when they first met, but that doesn't mean that they grew apart. They don't hate each other or even dislike each other, but when they talk it's usually heavy conversations and rarely a friendly visit

- Surprisingly, he sometimes drinks, it's when he's beyond stressed and he has to drink a lot or use magical beverages to get intoxicated due to his high ass metabolism

- He's a workaholic, often pushing himself to his limits since it's all he knows

- He hates small talk since why bother when there's more to talk about? He can manage it but he sometimes can't tolerate it

- He loves making gifts for others and has an excellent memory, meaning that he knows what to give others based on their interests or wants

- He is practically a Disney Princess when it comes to animals, they just gravitate towards him and hes excellent with them

- Can be up stupid early and trains frequently

- Is the best at acrobatics and flexibility

- Deeply emphatic, but it was originally due to his magic

- Multilingual, he can speak every language due to his time in this multiverse. (Also, I think it's a cool power that benefits them.)

- He's secretly insecure about his aura, worried that people only like him because of it

- He is nostalgic for apples as it reminds him of his mother, but he doesn't really comment on it since it's not quite a trigger, but it's a sensitive topic since he can freeze up if he thinks too long about his past

- He has claustrophobia and a fear of being helpless, the idea that he can't move or do anything is triggering from when he was going through the incident and was a statue

- Sexless, they mainly just like masc or gender neutral pronouns

- Hates smoking, the smell brings them back to that incident

- He barely learned how to read and write as a child, so now that he's the God/Guardian of Positivity, he still struggles. He didn't get the chance to grow those skills, so his handwriting is shaky

- Fire in general is a trigger, he never saw so much in his life when Nightmare was Corrupted. He gets nervous near flames, and the scent makes him lightheaded or fall into a panic attack

- He is a healer, something he learned after he awoke from the stone. However, he has to wear gloves or else it can overflow into things such as plant life. He couldn't heal the mother tree though, he already tried

- His mentality didn't change when a statue, but his body did. He had to stay in his destroyed world and his mind was altered. He has since then grown, but his mental state is in constant distress because he feels like a child in some ways. He didn't know what he was doing when thrown into the world, but since then he's becoming more and more jaded

- On the aroace spectrum, he doesn't have any sexual attraction but it's possible for a romantic sensation to form

- His magic smells like something akin to green scents such as dew grass or fresh flowers, while his magic tastes like sweet citrus or the flavor of sweet lemons

- He noticed that Ink only cares about the AU rather than the souls inside, more attentive to the issues there rather than the overall improvement of AU conditions

- He often has a freeze response due to being in the statue for so long, frozen and unable to stop himself as he feels helpless to react to stress at times. It would only worsen with his own self deprecating nature. It took awhile to improve, however, and now he's better

- He can heal himself pretty well along with others as long as the injury is on a scale of 1-3. 4-5 on the injury level is more challenging. It takes more time and magic, this means that he can actually pass out due to excessive healing and exhaustion

- He follows more of a duty as a guardian rather for himself and finds it his job to fix these AU's. For awhile he just tried to make everyone happy, even forcefully, but as time grew he was able to see how this isn't good. He's better at understanding the flaws of constant positivity

- He's not used to receiving physical affection since he usually is the giver. If he was hugged he'd actually just feel like the sound of Lego bricks falling apart

- (CW: some self harm, skip if you need to) He has hallucinations sometimes, especially after waking up, of his bones turning back to stone sometimes. He ends up trying to chip away at his bone in order to remove that stone, panicking and ending up becoming distressed until it actually ends up chipping his bones. As a result, he covers up a lot and it's one of the reasons why he wears so many layers. He heals himself, but he avoids trying to see his bones so that the hallucination doesn't affect him when waking up.

- Before the Corruption, he lived with a world lacking technology. So, he only had drawings (if they weren't destroyed) or other natural crafts to remember Nightmare's face. He has kept one drawing that Nighty drew of the two happy safe in his inventory, often pulling it out and reflecting on those memories. He's desperate to return to when he and Nighty were happy, but he knows that's impossible and he feels selfish for it

- (CW: Past abuse) He wasn't actually aware of the extent of abuse his brother went through and in fact he was abused as well. He was constantly pleasing others, pressured, and manipulated by the village because he was seen as something "other." He was scared for his brother, often seeing him in distress, and as a result he would sometimes convince others to leave him alone in return to doing favors for them. He always offered physical comfort, and in fact he doesn't even resent his brother for what he did. Nighty was just hurt, and he understands that. Still, he feels like he failed him and feels awful for it. He doesn't know that Nighty doesn't actually truly blame him

- He knows ASL and actually had to relearn how to speak properly, he has a bit of an accent and a rasp in his voice as a result

- Finds Ink weird, especially since he doesn't know that they're soulless

- Never learned how to cook, but hes great for natural gatherings and identifying poisonous plants, berries, etc

- the arrows of positivity can kill due to the excessive amounts, its something he only uses with Nightmare as a result

- Excessive negativity can hurt him because of his soul literally turning into a positive apple

- Because his soul is something else in some sense, he actually can't get his soul grabbed by anyone, including Error. Error is one of the only select few that knows this, since he can always tell if someone doesn't quite have a "soul"

- One of the only things that can hurt him is Nightmare's negativity, and he in turn is one of the only things that can hurt Nightmare

- He can make someone "too" happy if he wished, causing them to smile so hard they're sore and laugh to the point of becoming lightheaded and out of breath. He doesn't do it often, but he's capable of it and it's one reason he doesn't feel even close to being intimidated by others. He's actually rather dangerous when he chooses to be, he just decides to enact mercy

- After eons of having his own happiness taken away by him and dealing with negativity more intensely than he did as a child, he slowly didn't realize that he was becoming something else for awhile and the only reason he hasn't fallen down is because he ate the last golden apple and thus is physically unable to

- He thought Nightmare died when he lost himself to the corrupt apples, and when he came to, he was stuck in his world mourning the death of everyone. The villagers, the only family he had. He tried to talk to the mother tree even when she was chopped, only to cry when no response was given.

- He was only able to leave his world when Ink found him, but there actually would be a single incident before that where he was found by Nightmare who thought he was the stone that was on the ground and crumbled. It didn't end well

- He hates silence. He hates it because when he crumbled and broke free from being a statue, he has never heard such silence ever in his life

Closing Notes: heourgh. Don't look at me, these two have made me genuinely cry before. Don't acknowledge me, don't even know I exist. I love them, always have

RAAAAUGGHHHH I LOVE WHEN I SEE YOUR DRAWINGS. THEY'RE SO COOL AND I LIKE HOW YOU DREW DUST I HOPE YOU HAD FUN AND STUFF DRAWING THE TWO :-)))

Btw I'm writing that Killer x Siren content pls let me know if you want something in particular from it because so far it's pirate Killer being saved by Siren reader :-))

@skeleton-mischief so this took me longer then expected and I haven’t even drawn more then two characters

dust sans actually has some design

Sans is just sans.

… I have drawn dust more then some of my OCs (that sound kinda bad when out of context)

dust sans belongs to ask-dusttale

I,,,,I want to create x reader content. I,,,,I MUST-....

Asks Open :-)

(please send me your asks for any AU, Sans, or Papyri I love interacting with you guys. Send as many as you wish, it makes me happy to see the creativity. I don't care for fame I care for human connection through cringe and understanding. You are my source of super cool and awesome writing motivation)

PS: I do gender neutral reader since I myself am, and it makes me happy to have anyone included :-))

I'M ACTUALLY KICKING AND SWINGING MY FEET WITH DELIGHT. I LOVE WRITING DYNAMICS AND THIS WAS THE PERFECT EXCUSE FOR ME. I'M SO HAPPY YOU LIKED THIS AND THAT YOU LOVE IT AS MUCH AS ME. I WANTED TO PUSH MYSELF TO WRITE DETAILS AND STUFF HEHEHEHEHEH I'M GIGGLING LIKE A SCHOOL GIRL

-totally non evil chuckle-

I’ve been thinking a lot about pirates lately. Maybe…. pirate underfell sans?

An evil, menacing captain of the seas comes to your kingdom, with intentions of showing your king whose really in charge. You work as a doctor in the castle, and are bandaging up a butler when all of a sudden horns blow, signaling a pirate attack. As you help everyone out, you end up locking eyes with their fearsome captain. And well, when pirates see pretty things, they just cant help themselves from taking them for their own. 😋😋

argh fr😍🤞🏽

Hey, it's meeeee. I'm gonna jump into it:

Please enjoy‼️‼️

Wow...wow. There's little that could capture the description he'd use. So, it's a bit damning when he gets to see you at what he'd consider your worst. He'll make it up to you, he swears on his soul. You didn't need to be in the middle of the crossfire, and he feels rather bad to know that the Devil himself had used you to escape.

_______________________________________________

"Shi-!" "Language." Your hands didn't stop from plucking the shard of glass and dabbling the alcohol into the butler's wound as you cut him off. This butler, which you couldn't remember the name of, had messed up his hand by dropping a glass vase and then attempting to clean up with just his hands. Or,,,,paws? Yeah, that's a better word. He wasn't very tall, in fact he was only a bit taller than you were. He was a Cat Monster, one with desaturated brown fur and drooping eyes. He was rough around the edges, especially his...vocabulary.

Nonetheless, he was always attempting to be polite with you. He would be caught sometimes by guards for drinking booze in the royal kitchen past hours, in which he'd complain and weakly attempt to excuse himself before getting water thrown on him. He was pathetic really, but you didn't mind. You suspected that he hasn't properly learned about the ways of the Palace since he's new, so you were more tolerant. So you preferred him like this, where he held still and was kind enough to listen to you. "....sorry,"

Speaking of which, your eyes darted to look at his face, which was bandaged at the moment. His ears were flattened, and so your naturally stern expression softened. "It's fine, I know that it hurts. Just hold still, okay?" He nodded, his uneven smile growing as his whiskers twitched. "Thank you doc," You huffed lightly in acknowledgement before turning your head to focus on grabbing the linen.

Being a doctor was rough, especially the royal doctor. You had a few others working with you, like assistants, but you were naturally more comfortable working on your own. You weren't like the nurses who had to help the soldiers, especially since you only focused on the servants or the royal family. Which, now that your mind drifted, you cringed at the thought.

The Dreemers.

Or, more specifically, King Asgore.

He's...in simple terms, strict. Or more precisely, he's a cruel King who isn't afraid to use violence and fear to get his point across. Some rugged barbarian dress in reds and gold, for certain. When the sun catches on the tar black glimmering from his horns, he's towering and imposing. His nose slightly crooked just like his sneer, he didn't bellow but rather spoke with a rasp. Foolish Human, foolish to work for the King whose horns are sharp enough to gore.

He has higher standards than any bull, which wouldn't be a problem if it wasn't for the fact that he was willing to slaughter anything or anyone that got in his way. Your mistake, you learned, was to even work for him. You're lucky to even be alive under his critical eye, but you suspect it's because you can identify the ache within the Goat Monster's soul. Patches of purple and swelling are much easier to spot than guilt and other turmoil, but your eyes could see beneath the curves of bone and fur. In your experience, silence and blissful ignorance were a powerful duo, and King Asgore knew that you understood this.

He at least respected your work, even if that meant he didn't really see you as well....you. His nostrils would flare at the sight of you, practiced courtesy forcing him to not spit an insult your way. You were indebted to the King, and he was indebted to you. You just finished wrapping the hand in linen when you looked up to not see a bull but rather a wet puddle of a Monster. He twisted his hand from front to back, analyzing your handy work.

"Thank you, doc," The young cat straightened up as his tail flicked, a very soft purr escaping him. You placed your hands on your hips as you scanned over the fur for any other indication of injury, humming when you saw none. "You should be more careful, butler." "Burgerpants." "Hm?" His eyes, which seemed to carry two bags of purple bruising, stared directly at your own. His toothy grin turned to a more sincere one as he offered his paw to you. "That's my name. I don't expect you to remember that, but you can call me B.P. instead."

You reluctantly shook his hand, your lips quirking up. "Well, B.P., you have quite the name. I'll try to remember," You declared with a confidence he understood and had hoped for, purring involuntarily at this, pleased with your answer. "Thank you, it's a nickname, but I think it's grown on me overtime."

You were about to speak when you were interrupted by a loud sound. A blaring, blurring sound that pierced your ears. Now what was once so quiet has changed, horns echoing around the walls of the emergency room and throughout the hallways of the palace. There's a clamoring in the palace below your window, shouts of fear that stirred both confusion and trepidation within your belly.

Before you could speak, B.P had stood up sharply, coaxing himself to take a peek. His ears were flat as his tail lashed aggressively, his fur prickling as he let out a low growl. "What in the-..." "Pirates." The Monster answered your question as his expression morphed. He seemed to be thinking about something as his brow furrowed, his lips curling back as he gritted his teeth and glared at the running figures holding sword and gun.

"I swear...they-...." He was muttering to himself as he must've had thoughts cracking into his dome just as you. You frowned, the distant sounds of running being heard. Pirates, huh? You felt a huff escape you as you rolled your sleeves up, buttoning them together as you heard the slurred sounds blending together.

You've encountered a few stories of them from around the palace. Apparently, before your presence became part of King Asgore's reign, you had heard of the Monsters of Porcelain. Two of them were leaders of a giant ship, one so large and the other so terrible. They had caused a mess, leaving a pain that was stinging and vile, leaving King Asgore to immediately demand higher security at the Palace. He had to provide hope, display strength to make it easier to strike when the day comes of their return.

It was apparent that the day had finally arrived. Everything that was painted honey and gold over the chalked stone of the palace was now fluttering with spurts of red and dust. He wasted no time, turning heel and running as he slid among the tile and turned sharply down the hallway. You couldn't chase after the fool as he had done it before you could think, only sighing now as your frown deepened.

Today was going to be rough. You grabbed your medical bag, hand gripping around the handle as you took a deep breath and huffed. Great. Just great. Any plans you had today were now slammed to a halt, leaving you here to deal with the mess of foolish Men and Monsters. You don't get paid enough for this.

"....fucking great."

_______________________________________________

"DAMN IT!" The tall skeleton shouted, ramming his body against two guards with full force as they slammed against the wall. Damn it! Damn it damn it damn it! A large monster grabbed at the guards, wrestling them to the ground before smashing their skulls a rattling mess together. She turned to the tall skeleton, his brow scrunched up as she panted. "Captain?" "GO. WE'RE NOT SURRENDERING JUST YET."

The monster looked reluctant before speaking, gesturing to the wound that was on the skeleton's ribcage. "But Captain..." "DON'T." He sharply ordered, cutting her off. She bit back a response, only nodding her head before turning down the hall with a pause to her step. Pitch watched, his ribcage shuddering as he felt his phalanges grab at the edge of a small table.

He winced as he leaned against it, his jaws curled down into a frown. Where was his damn brother? Eugh, he just HAD to run off towards the center of the palace. So idiotic. He swore to the Stars above that he was going to smash that blasted numbskull's head so hard against the ships outer rim that he would be seeing double for a whole fortnight!

The sudden sounds of running footsteps snatched his attention his head snapping to the side before he straightened up. His shoulders rolled back, tension bleeding through him. It coursed through him like a steady river under clothes and curves around bone. He felt his bones rattle slightly as his glare turned to steel, his expression intense as he was ready to fight once more despite his injury. He wasn't a coward, and enemies be damned if he wouldn't fight until dusting.

Though, what he didn't expect was to see a Human in white. He could see the way your chest heaved as you caught yourself by pressing your weight against the door frame by your hand catching yourself. You looked around the room and saw the two fallen guards, a mess that resulted in torn curtains, broken decor, and a skeleton. You locked eyes with him, and he faltered if not only a little.

A doctor, huh? He stared, still as stone as he watched you look at him critically. His hand tightened on the handle of his sword, but he did not dare raise it at you. He wasn't sure what you intended to do, but he wasn't foolish enough to notice how your sights pinned down on his chest. You expression scrunched up and looked back at the guards before looking at him once more. "Are they alive?" You asked, gesturing towards the guards in metal.

He felt his eyelight shrink, staring intently as he gruffed what sounded to be a yes. You seemed to be debating something, your eyes dragging themselves away from the guards. "....You're injured." You said a little dumbly. Yes, clearly. He huffed in response with indignation, not answering. Your eyes narrowed as you seemed to bite your tongue, debating if you should snap back a smart retort

It didn't take you more than a second of logic however to retract that idea from your mind before you spoke once more with a more cool tone. "If you let me, I can patch that up for you." There are hisses of confusion and anger all feathered and sprinkled in the air from the distance, but they sounded faint compared to the screams and the ringing.

.....What?

His steely gaze flickered to one of disbelief, before it turned to suspicion. "ELABORATE." He gruffed, authority clear in his tone. You raised a brow, how audacious. He liked that. "I'm a doctor, not a soldier. It's my job to help, sir." You firmly stated, as if it was quite obvious. He liked that too, especially as you looked at him without flinching. He said nothing, momentarily debating if he should let you. Clearly he was a pirate, you shouldn't trust him. He couldn't trust you either, not blindly anyways.

And yet, the intent in your voice was crystalline clear. Still suspicious, he stared at you with a glare that lacked much emotion. He promptly nodded his head only once, one of his leather gloves tilting his black cavalier hat in respect. "I'LL ALLOW IT." You nodded your head in return, walking towards him cautiously. Smart. Your eyes narrowed upon seeing his sheathed sword, but you didn't comment on it as you pointed at the ground.

He let out a HMPH, but didn't argue as he let his body sit on the tile floor. He winced as he clutched his wound, his legs buckling slightly as he did so. He had been slashed by a guard in the middle of a fight, staining his once white button up a blooming red as dust was chipped near the edges. You worked without saying much, setting your kit down as you went to grab a disinfectant and linen. He watched you like a leopard seal whose eyes caught prey, unmoving and almost unnaturally focused.

You were careful to help remove his black, lavish coat, unclipping the thin necklace of gold that kept it on his shoulders before letting it fall down his back. You unbuttoned his white and silken dress shirt just enough to inspect his wound, a cloth pressing straight into it. He hissed back a silent curse, trying ever so hard to hold still without showing how badly it stung. He's been through worse, has felt worse, but stars above if it didn't burn.

He took the time to keep your features imprinted into his memory, letting his head rest against the wall as he closed his eyes momentarily. This wasn't the events he had in mind, but it felt nice to have someone tend to his wounds while they were till fresh. Oftentimes he had to threaten a doctor among the townsfolk with his crew after raids such as these.

And as a bonus, he kept in mind that your bravery and honor to your job just made you twice as attractive as he found you beforehand. At the realization of his attraction, though, he instinctively clenched his fist and felt like slapping himself. What in the blasted devil??? Attraction? He must've suffered from a head injury. He didn't slap his skull backwards, however, and instead flickered his only useful eyelight away from you.

Your hands were a stark contrast to what he was used to, especially when you wrapped the linen around his chest and sliced through the material with skilled precision from your scissors. He hisses when you fasten it tight, shooting you a harsher glare that both made a stampede rush to your heart and made you murmur gently. "I know, I know..." You went to straighten yourself out as you assess him. "Better?"

It hardly registers that he had moved until a massive hand curls tightly around your wrist. The touch is not at all gentle, it's probing, the tip of each digit leaving small curved indentations in your flesh, intent on keeping you thoroughly in place. "WHY AREN'T YOU AFRAID?" His voice comes out as an odd grumbling, strained from excessive usage.

It isn't deep, either, which comes to be one of the more jarring things in this situation. At least that's what he father's based on the way your hand twitched when he spoke a bit more quietly. "Should I be? You bleed crimson just the same, do you not?" You ask, your tone probably the most gentle he's heard so far. Hmph, you should be more cautious when dealing with ordinary men or monsters like him, not yet known, but it was too late.

He dared not respond, but the way his magic left his cheekbones flush indicated that he liked what you said. He released his iron grip on you and grunted. "Stupid Human," His voice canters off to silence when you stare at him, making him feel uncomfortably vulnerable under your gaze. Before he could find something to say, you stood up abruptly.

"Now, I'm off to go help the other injured souls you ended up making a mess of, okay, skeleton?" There was a sting to your words, an irritation that he could understand despite never being a doctor. When you had skill, it was irritating sometimes since that left you with much more garbage to take care of.

Did you not even know who he was? Of course you knew he was a skeleton, but he almost felt offended that you were so bold and assertive in the face of a monster who could gut you. He didn't, however, because it was clear that you've earned it after patching him up.

He turns to you with a forced stoicism, and he speaks with a sort of keening voice, one reserved for wolves or other sorts of predators. "It's Pitch." You repeat it, once, twice. You repeat your own when he doesn't ask, repeat it just the same to him to remember. He wanted to pry further, have every secret expelled upon your tongue like the juiciest of pomegranate. Instead, he stirs, rumbles someplace in the expanse of chest, and lets you go.

What a strange doctor you are. What a strange Human you are. He likes that.

_______________________________________________

"Your brother is going to have your head, Red!" "Hah! As if!" The swing of his hand, a flick of the thumb, and the trigger is finally done being teased as he aims and shoots. Beside him, the familiar face of B.P. scowls. "You shouldn't have come, not today."

Red scowls at this, rolling his eyes the same time he rolls his shoulders. He lets the words hang heavy in the air for a stretch of time, before scoffing. "Now why's that, B.P.? You tellin your Captain what to do now?" He asks dangerously, but he's surprised to see the scaredy cat glare challengingly with a lash of his tail and the low growl that escaped his chest. Now what is this?

"If that's how you see it, then yes," He spat, flinging a chair into a servant's stomach. It felt good, especially since that bastard had made him work double a few times since he'd slink away. Good riddance. Plus, it wasn't life threatening, just hard enough to disarm and ahed enough to get his anger out. "I didn't want the doctor to be here for this,"

Red's eyes gleamed like ruby as he grinned, a bonebrow raised as the two rushed down the hallways of white stone and intricate architecture. His gaze drags up from his throat to his eyes, his soul humming with an electric excitement. "Doctor?" "Yes, that's right. They're a-" B.P.'s voice catches within his throat, like a hook had caught and dug into sensitive flesh as he chokes.

"A Human who I consider a friend."

Red can't seem to find a sharp jab, and instead he pauses his ruthless running as he leans against a marble wall with a heaving ribcage. His golden tooth gleams against the honeyed glow of the setting sun, dull due to the towering pillars and building of the castle. He missed the smell of the sea, of being able to see the sun in all her glory.

Instead, he cocks his head to the side as B.P. joins him, placing his paws on his knees as he's bent forward and lurched down to catch his breath. "Are they cute?" He asks, teasingly and without bite, only to earn a slight hiss from his companion. "Don't even think about it. They're not built for the seas." Red has found that B.P. has grown a spine, or at least one that solidified enough when it came to you.

You really must've meant something to him, and so Red respected that. Anyone can be considered valuable, after all. He rubbed his lower jaw with his phalanges, mockingly debating something. “We do need a doctor, B.P. If they're a friend…well…. 'm sure they wouldn't mind helpin a couple of misfits, yeah?” He chuckled, seeing B.P. biting back his tongue. Heh. Adjusting his cloak, the fur around the rim grazing against his neck, he cracked his knuckles.

“Ah, ‘m just messin with ya. Come on, we got a King to slaughter!” He roughly patted the scrawny idiot on the back, knocking the wind out of him temporarily. He didn't wait to try and see if he listened, knowing that he would anyways, and he instantly ran down the hallway with heavy steps, his boots clinking along the way.

The idea sounded appealing, but he didn't think you were worth the time of day if he couldn't even know who you were. And besides, even if you were a pretty thing, he wouldn't take you without reason.

.

.

From the bottom of his crooked soul, he didn't think he was actually going to meet you. Wow...wow. There's little that could capture the description he'd use. So, it's a bit damning when he gets to see you at what he'd consider your worst. He'll make it up to you, he swears on his soul. You didn't need to be in the middle of the crossfire, and he feels rather bad to know that the Devil himself had used you to escape.

_______________________________________________

To lock eyes with a predator indicated the urgency to escape, or at least you thought so. So may Asgore be damned and sent straight to wherever he belonged. Right now, the predator you locked eyes with seemed actually more concerned with your life than his own.

When the smoke thins out from the burning hot muzzle, the red mist that seemed to develop skulls and screaming faces, only now could you see the obscure figure in better detail. You see a glimmer of gold and aren't so shocked to see the absence of a normal face. A skull head is what meets your eyes with teeth set in a strained, Cheshire grin. You see rings adorning his bony fingers gleaming under the light, and how gold practically danced around his chest and body.

His stature was shorter than the previous skeleton, and only now did it click that the two could be related. Both had one working eyelight, both had an anger within their souls, and they both clearly held the same cocky air to them that was unmistakable. Something sticky is running down your face, nails digging into your head as the tall, imposing King is holding your body in place. It should be expected. You are not as hard as bone or as tough as the skin of a fruit when you're finally clawed into.

You are stripped of all your defenses right now, laid bare as if the clothes on your back did not matter. Your fate now rested in the palm of a Pirate with a deadly glint to his eye and a King whose heart, if he even had one, was as black as charcoal. You're starting to feel beads of sweat prick at your skin, down your nape as the two coerced but spoke in what felt like a tongue you couldn't decipher. This does not prompt a response from you, knowing better than to thrash about despite the urge to twist and kick and scream and tear.

An anger within the skeleton resembled your own, united in unsaid words and not quelled as the King of Monsters offered a horrid, demanding choice. The ugly, ivory prongs atop his head was like a crown of authority, but you felt that the cavalier hat atop the porcelain skull held the same degree of power. Something smelt to be burning mixed in with gunpowder, something wooden and electric.

Your eyes crawled to glare at the King, seeing his misplaced wrath as his other hand gripped the golden and handcrafted spear that stood tall like a pillar. He had grabbed you to avoid getting shot, but he was clearly interested in making sure that it was only him he was concerned about . He seemed to hold the same morals as street rats, willing to throw anything away in the name of survival. A coward disguised as a beast, a Monster of deceiving embers.

King Asgore seemed exasperated by this entire ordeal rather than eager, even if he could leave you gored out instead of fulfilling his oath to you. Your side of the oath, however, was that you'd dedicate your life to him. You didn't particularly have to be alive to have him do his duties, and it was clear that he was debating whether or not to toss you away.

You released the breath that was caged inside your lungs unbeknownst to yourself, but a heavy hand clasped over your mouth to shut you up. "Quiet, Human." He spat. Oh you did not like that. You didn't even seem to think about the repercussions, head cloudy with disgust at his audacity.

So, you sank your dulled teeth straight into the side of his fat fingers, digging into flesh as you bit down hard. There's a blinding white as though the sun has seared its way into your skull as you hear a loud, rumbling shout, rays of warmth sprouting from your skull as a blow strikes down and you're flung forward towards the marble floors at the feet of the undead. It's a shock that you didn't just crack your head, if not for the way your head was angled and instead collided within the arms of a Monster who seemed less cruel.

He stumbled back, clearly having intentions to catch you when he lurched forward. The sudden shift in gravity made his knees buckle, but he head steady. Ah, is this what the smell was beyond gunpowder? Your eyes locked with his, only for your vision to grow blurry from exhaustion and blood loss that was blooming from your head. Foolish Human. You felt heavier suddenly, before you completely blacked out.

_______________________________________________

"this the Human you spoke of?"

"Yes, Captain. Stars above, they look terrible..."

"WE'RE TAKING THEM."

"What??"

"what choice is there? I told ya already-"

"DON'T DISOBEY YOUR CAPTAINS, GOT THAT? YOU'RE BACK HOME, DON'T FORGET THAT."

Burgerpants was silent at this, his ears flat. Thankfully, you were sloppily patched up, so you weren't on the verge of death anymore. He grimaced, but a part of him was silently grateful. Both Red and Pitch seemed to have met you before this, even if Pitch had tried to act like he was indifferent to seeing you bleeding and passed out. Burgerpants was less levelheaded, practically a walking porcupine as he assessed you and fretted.

He had wanted to leave you there, at the palace, especially since the Pirate life was rough. You were too, though, and brave. Foolish more like it, but brave at least a little since you had dared enough to bite King Asgore hard enough to tear his flesh based on what Captain Red said. You wouldn't be alive right now though if they didn't take you, left to bleed out or be speared down by Asgore as punishment.

He stroked the back of his hand against your cheek, frowning down before he turned to the two Skeleton Brothers. They were quite decisive, more so than he expected them to be, but hey. You are safe now, and surely he can explain everything when you wake? He's so sorry that you were caught within this mess.

The two Captains nodded his way, and so begrudgingly he walked towards the door of your temporary room. Stars, he really needed a beer.

_______________________________________________

Closing Notes: heourgh. I wanted to put a bit more effort into this writing because I love pirates and wanted some good world building set up. I'm sorry it took so long, especially to you @vamppiko

Forgive me, testing was beating my ass

Ink Sans: Does it Matter?

Apathy. He does not pay attention to the world, or their endings. It has ended for him many times before, and yet it will begin the very next day. He survives everything, envies all that don't. Envies those who live unaware, how lucky they must be.

Ink can feel the spasms of emotion shoot through the marrow and curves of his bone. He grows terrified of it, but feeling anything deranges him. To be feeling anything at all strips him bare until even his bones are nothing but obstacles in the way of where a soul would be, where a soul should be.

The energy generated from fission is in fact energy released from his divine clutches, released to be desperate attempts of begging for something more but he in fact cannot reach it. The only thing he is good at is wanting, yearning, and being alone. Alone, alone, alone, constantly alone despite his constant company. He is penetrated of his defenses constantly, even if he does the same to mortals who couldn't even begin to understand his misery.

He cannot be resolved of his torment. If he were to be asked how it feels to be seen as the sky, he couldn't answer, even with eyes cast up his way. There's joy, beauty, pain, and nothingness. It should mean something, but after time has withered away his bone he must ask himself

"does it matter?"

Closing Notes: i felt silly thinking about Ink Sans and stuff

Maaaaaaybe I forgot to post on this account and now I feel bad

If y'all got asks about any x reader content, don't be shy and just send me an ask. I need the inspiration

Again, my bad for forgetting to post here

The solar eclipse is happening today around 12 for me, I would like to think about how each skeleton would react in my roommate au. Might make a post later, do you guys think I should? (I'm gonna anyways because I like to self indulge and I love my cringe)

Monster Claims and Animal Motifts

So I love animal motifs and I know that depending on the characterization for some of the skeletons, it really influences their personalities.

Example! Stretch. He can be seen as a fox or a bunny for example, while some people think Rus is dog or wolf coded. Idk I think we should think about the other Papyri as well or Sanses. Like Cash! I think he and Coffee are different flavors of cat, y'know? Like I can't explain it. I do know though that I love them all and honestly I wanna see more. The trope in fanfics where they share a "mating" or "acceptance in family" process through collars though is rather interesting. I personally don't do that with my headcanons, but I wish it was explored more and had more depth since some people do it for the more sexual perspectives of it.

And I'm not gonna lie, I really love how monsters have their own scents for magic that they have. Like,,,I love it way too much tbh and I think that mixed with intent, monsters sharing clothing is a form of trust and intimacy. Like, not even in a romantic sense. Like it just shows you find it comforting and I think that monsters offering it to one another express that you hold affection for the other. I think I wanna post my opinion on what each skeleton's magic would smell like (and maybe taste like teeheehehe) and if you want a specific scenario, dont be afraid to send an ask!

how do you think the skeles would react to a vampire s/o??

Ooo how fun of a question! I've been brewing with ideas for awhile about this, especially since I have my own ideas for a vampire au with the skeletons. But here? I can have a bit of fun with this. Thank you for the idea >:]

Also-! Since you didn't specify which skeles you wanted, I'll do the main three! If you want some more, don't hesitate to ask! Enjoy

TW/CW: Blood and injury

Imagine it, you owning a home that was lavishly designed and catered to your every need. When you ended up getting injured, you didn't expect yourself to get stuck with monsters who would love you. He couldn't look at you in the eyes sometimes, but to him you're just too beautiful for him to.

To Note: this is during the early 1800's MWAHAHAHA I need the vibe

Vanilla: He didn't realize that you were a vampire at first when you stumbled across him. To him, you looked dangerous, however. He didn't know quite what it was that made him think that, but he was more than willing to tend to your wounds when he found you. The blood on your clothes wasn't just yours, but he didn't dare ask too many questions when he saw your defensiveness. He's just a commoner who happened to have a brother who asked to let you stay. That was enough for him. ...You had pretty eyes, a pretty laugh. When you tilted your head up in the candlelight, your hand covering your mouth as you laughed, he couldn't help but find himself trying to get you to smile more. Weeks pass, he starts to see you more as you bring gifts of food to him and he gets you to laugh more despite your original serious state. It's not until one night, he finds you. You, wearing a red that made him fear you. But when you found him, you had a look of hunger and desperation to you. You found your way to clawing up his clothes as you made your way inside his cabin and pleaded with him. You needed help, needed food, needed him. He was unsure, but....you needed the help. You promised that you would understand if he was disgusted with you, but you needed just one more request for help. He... couldn't say no. So even if it hurts when you sink your fangs into his shoulder, when you clung onto him as you stay beside him, he runs his phalanges through your soft hair and lets you eat. He was tired afterwards, but you thanked him and even helped clean his wounds. You wrapped your arms around him, thanking him. Of course, he'd do anything for you. He loved you, and when he was able to see you again, he made sure to let you know that. It's not something he expected, but if it's who you are, who is he to turn away? The two of you still talk, hang out. You rarely feed on him unless desperate, but you have come to realize that magic blood is much different than human blood. Much more...sweet. So when you come knocking at his door, when you find your way to embrace him in his bed, the two of you can simply lay there for hours, comfortable in each other's presence. He loves you, and in truth you love him, even if neither of you say it out loud.

Cyperus: Out of all the things that he's learned, the most important one to him was to remain kind and to help others. So, when he saw you, running away from danger, it was his first reaction. The blood you wore like a shawl wrapped around your flesh didn't seem to just be your own, but it was clear that you were in distress. He hid you from the guards, the very same ones he aspired to be some day. He stood where he was visible as you hid away, confronted by them. If they had noticed the blood on his leather boots, they would've known something was wrong. When they fled to another location due to his misguidance, he did....hesitate to return to your side. The guards told him that they were on the hunt for a vampire, they needed to kill it. By the expression you had on your face, you were that vampire. But you had looked frightened, clearly injured. He wasn't going to hand you over though, not when it was clear that you needed help. When they left, he made sure to check over your wounds. Holy stars you looked bad, bloody and battered. You were staring at him, he knows you heard what the guards shared. But he didn't dare bring it up, not when you clearly needed healing first. He asked to take you to a healer, a trusted one. You were reluctant, but why would you not trust the monster who just helped you? Before you both fled, he felt the tender touch of your hands on his cheekbones. He tried to ask what you were doing, but you had already pressed a kiss against his cheek before he could speak. Softly, softly you thanked him. Holy shit. Cyperus had to maintain composure, and so he did, even if his skull was a pretty shade of orange and pink hues. You were fixed up that same night, and when you got the rest you needed, Cyperus remained by your side. He held your hand, even with the small glances made his way from the doctor. That was fine with him, he wanted to make sure you felt safe. Yes, you could defend yourself, but sometimes the strong needed help too. It didn't take long for him to befriend you, and even if there was a mutual pining, it flowed naturally. He covered for you, kept you out of the guard's presence since he knew their schedule, and overall kept you in good company. He was delighted to see that Vanilla and you got along as well. Two kind souls can easily flow through magic beyond flesh and bone, two of unique connection. The first time you required blood, it was from a sense of trust. He trusted you to not harm him, and you promised to take care of that trust with utmost attention. You rarely feed in his presence, but it's clear to you that he doesn't mind being the monster you go to when you need it. He loves to help, and you love his dedication. Love here grows smoothly, sweetly, even if there are moments of fear from your end since you don't want to hurt him.

Red: The blacksmith. Okay so maybe it wasn't a good idea to go drinking that night. Maybe it wasn't a good idea to start talking to you when he saw you sitting in the corner by yourself. He wanted to get to know you, he wanted to give some lonely person company. He didn't expect to feel his soul thumping when he saw your face underneath your cloak, didn't expect to start stuttering as he talked. He got you to laugh though, got you to look less nervous. He found you a little off-putting though, despite not commenting on it. Looking back, he should've been more weary like his brother would suggest. But he wanted to be sincere with you, wanted to refrain himself from judging you since he wouldn't want someone to do the same to him. When he ended up getting more drunk with you beside him, the two of you getting progressively obnoxious, he couldn't stop himself from wrapping an arm around your shoulder and getting more comfortable. You did the same, getting comfortable in turn. The two of you didn't seem to even realize that you both were wasted, didn't realize the drunken promises made as the two of you stumbled into his bed. Not much happened, of course, except that he was bitten. He panicked a bit, but he was too drunk and could only stiffen before he found his eyelights shrinking a fraction of their usual size. You were cuddling beside him, peppering his neck with kisses, before you sank your fangs in. He saw the blood, but when he asked what you were doing, you seemed to snap out of it before apologizing. You told him the truth, spilling out your secrets like you spilled the blood of others. You were both drunk, and you apologized with a kiss on the wound and told him that you got carried away. He just smelled so sweet, you didn't think about your actions at the moment. He appreciated the truth, and he himself was not sober enough to handle the situation. He decided that you both need to just sleep for now, deal with it in the morning. He wasn't going to admit that a part of him was excited when you did bite him, but he was nervous all the same. You were a vampire, but he didn't feel the desire to report you. So when you both woke, he let you sleep when he was the first to wake. You were beautiful, sweet, and funny. Maybe it could work out. When Pitch found you both, however, he had to explain to him that nothing intense happened. When Pitch kept side eyeing him, however, the two had to talk later on about how Pitch seemed to already know you. However, the two of them resolve it later on, and the two of them are content with knowing what you are. They'll make it work And they did. He reassures you. He promises that he doesn't mind, he doesn't regret knowing you. He'll make sure you stay safe, and you make sure he stays safe in return. You love each other, you both just need to make adjustments.

Pitch: You didn't mean to frighten him, and he can tell the sincerity in your voice is in fact genuine. Still, he didn't expect to stumble across you when he was injured from an unfortunate situation. You looked so ethereal under the light of the moonlight, but he held back his tongue. You held an air of allure, but he still scrambled on the ground as blood seeped out and stained his shirt. He didn't want to look scared, but he knew that you could tell that he was weary. When you bent down, crouched in front of him, you extended your hand to him and still offered...kindness. He didn't realize that accepting your help would lead him to a path he would never expect. You cleaned his wounds, you worked with precision when you helped him stumble back to your home. It was closer, and by his hesitance to let you know where he lived, you didn't mind a guest. He could see that there was a....strangeness to you though. When you cleaned his wounds, you would hesitate to touch him and your staring wasn't just because you found his wounds hideous. He wasn't stupid, he knows that you're lying when you say that it's just because you don't want to hurt him. With his reservations in mind, he would ask questions, and you would only ask your own. Okay, that's fair. He found his guard lowering slowly, and when you were done you offered to let him sleep in a guest bedroom. He was reluctant, but you assured him when you told him that it has a lock from the inside. Too injured to walk back home, he simply gave in. Time passed after this event, and occasionally he would see you when he wandered around at night. You were still odd, and he was still guarded, but nothing much happened. He kept his knowledge about you from Red, not telling another soul of how he knew you. But you got him to feel comfortable over time, you even got him to smile at you a few times. He knew that something was off about you when you first met, but he didn't expect to see you in the dirt and hidden under bushes with your body injured and your eyes red as ruby. You had helped him though when he was injured, and even if you seemed to crave blood, he saw your self control and he saw your vulnerability. He wasn't going to take advantage of that by reporting you to the guard or killing you himself. No, he instead took you home and cleaned your wounds. You were starving, and as he wrapped your arm in linen, it was tense. Before he could stop himself though, he offered his blood to you. He saw your uncertainty, your resistance to the idea. But he insisted, especially because he didn't want you to die or hurt someone else. You must accept it, he won't let you leave otherwise. It hurt more than he expected when your clawed nails dug into his bone and your teeth found its way to his collarbone. He didn't scream though, didn't do anything but flinch as he clenched his fists. You fell asleep right as you finished, too full and too tired. He had to clean his own wound and carry you to bed, but he didn't mind. He would take care of you, like you took care of him. It was an unspoken understanding that you two had after this event, that the two of you would carry loyalty and devotion to one another. Keep each other safe, and keep each other close. He loves you, even if he doesn't say it. It takes him a bit to accept your words when you tell him that you love him, but when he looks at you the way he does, he's promising the same. He loves you, he loves you, he loves you.

Powder: An important adventure, a hunter, a good monster who takes care of others. He knew of the town's vampire, but he didn't actually expect to find that the vampire was you. You were always so kind, always offering good company and help. You were reclusive, yes, but he never pushed for you to be more social than you were. He found you in an inconvenient bear trap, your leg almost shredded up from struggling and your body laying limp from pain. He saw the blood on your lips from the limp bear laying beside you, the red glow of your eyes. What a lucky skeleton he was, forced to figure out how to handle this. His duties are important, but you are his friend. You and him would spend time together during the day, laughing and encouraging one another. You were really the vampire? ......He feels that he was going to be banished from the royal guard after this. He pried you free from the trap, carried you to his home wrapped in his cloak. He barely spoke, and you were too tired from excessive blood loss. He lets you stay in his home, takes you to Stretch, even if there's a clear sign of discomfort he carries every now and again. He had to later pull Stretch aside since it's clear that he knows you, knows what you are. It doesn't end as smoothly as he had hoped. He'll bring food from his hunt and after skinning and taking his fill, he'll make sure you eat well. It's awkward, uncomfortable, but it becomes something he grows to open up about. He learns more, and of course, his dedication to those he cares for is more important to him than his role as an important figure of the guard. His first experience with your magic was interesting, especially since you had found him injured and it ended up with some magic use. It was strange, the way you bit into your wrist before placing it down into his wound was odd. He was losing too much blood to think, but his eyes remained on your face when you were tending to him. You always soothed him when you attempted to, and he ended up passing out. By the time he woke, he had found his injury was missing, and you were sleeping. You crawled up on the bed beside him and pressed your face against his chest, clinging onto him. You cared about him, that much was obvious. He cared about you too. When you woke, he was stroking his phalanges through your hair, and you both mumbled soft confessions to one another. May the guards be damned if they get you, and may the guards be damned if they ever got to him

Stretch: When Cyperus decided to ask him for help, he didn't think that it meant having to help such a unique case like yourself. You were a vampire, and he's never worked with one before. Yet all the same, what kind of doctor would he be if he didn't help you? He prided himself as the underground doctor, a cheap alternative for monsters to go to in need of medical attention. He charged a lot less and he worked with monsters better than the human doctors, and he knows the most about monsters since he's spent time studying and researching. He tended to you, and made sure you felt comfortable. Occasionally, he would make sure you came by to visit for check-ups, which you didn't mind from the looks of it. He doesn't realize how safe he makes you feel, how he makes you feel less scary. He wasn't the first to meet you out of the skeletons, but he's glad that you have others to rely on. He was the second to find out about you though, other than Cyperus. He keeps this secret from the others for you, up until Powder walks in with your injured body. The conversation didn't end too well between him and Powder, but he was more focused on tending to you first. You mean so much to him, you're as sweet as honey. He wants to take care of you, even if he's not physically strong. He has a lot of empathy for others, an emotional strength that he's had to build over time due to how this world is structured. So when it comes out that you both have a mutual love for one another (it was an accident), he was delighted. After all, he's happy to know that he can always be here to heal you and take care of you at the end of the day...

Closing Notes: IT DIDN'T SAVE MY SHIT THE FIRST TIME I AM GROWLING AND EATING RHE BARS OF MY ENCLOSURE GRRRR GRAUGH (thank you for this fun request, I hope you enjoy. Don't be afraid to ask for more teehee)

Fallen Down into Deaths Embrace.

Okay,,,,so I finally cracked and threw in my towel by writing a Reaper Sans x reader fic for the first time. For context, reader isn't a normal person and is in a place similar to the void, which explains some things within the snippet of a writing I've been dabbling in. Anything written in () btw is for you to understand what's being said.

CW: light descriptions of vomiting, injury, blood, and of the sorts. It's not super descriptive, but I still wanted to plant it here. Stay safe loves

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

Beyond the blistering anguish, you realized something. Maybe it was the smell of scorched cloth and bones, or the rough earth beneath your crumpled body hurting your delicate skin. But, it finally dawned on you at that moment that you were truly and utterly alone. 

Where did everything go wrong? 

This new sensation felt foreign to you, it felt…unwelcoming. How could this have happened to you? It seemed like your chest would burst, your tongue heavy as vomit tickled the back of your throat. You didn’t think that your very bones would make you tremble, the feeling of being hot and cold all at once disorienting.

It felt overwhelming and nauseating to even think, let alone understand everything that happened to you. It felt like even the smallest twitch from your muscles would send you wanting to sob again. That the smallest of movements would lead you into excruciating pain. But, you had nothing to give, not anymore. Your throat felt raw and scratched, struggling to inhale the ash infecting your skin as you helplessly submitted to a coughing fit.

Saliva dribbled down your chin as your body curled in as much as it could. Your environment did not show you any mercy as you clawed at your sides. You screwed your eyes shut, ash fluttering near your eyelashes as you fought against it from nestling itself in your eyes. This sucked. 

Why did you do it? It felt like those rings around the back of your head mocked you, your skull ringing. This sight before you, as blurred as it was, was wrong. It was wrong, it was wrong, it was wrong. Your body doesn’t look like this. Not this pathetic sight, no. But you didn’t even need to open your eyes to know. 

You could already picture the way you wanted to ruin the ones that caused your disheveled state, as shameful as it was. This brought a laugh out of you, but not a pleasant one. It died quickly as you regretted it, coughing once again as you swore that blood was now on your hand.

Would those Gods laugh at you now? Would the sight of you bring a good chuckle or hysterical fit with them? Or a pity party since they ruined your life. Maybe that was all you were good for now. You were no longer worth much of anything, anymore. A forgotten memory now. 

Your thoughts were abruptly cut off, however, by the screams clawing past that ringing and now finally echoing behind your eyes as you internally screamed. Oh, yes, that's right. There weren't the only ones you loved around to help you now. What embraced you instead was the dented crater your body made and the scent of burnt vomit stimulating your senses. 

It was once so bright, where did that warmth and light go? You already knew the answer, your bloody and dusted clothes feeling so tattered beneath the cracks of your fingers. You didn’t have the pleasure of knowing what would happen to you for everything that happened. So when it eventually crashed in your face, you felt bitter and regretful. You were too blinded by rage, and your temper got the better of you.

Well, that sure helped you in the long run, didn’t it? 

Your temper sure wasn’t helping your flooded migraine either. If you thought any longer it felt like you would combust. If only you could do something about it. If only you weren’t stuck here, punished for the sins you’ve committed. If only you were given a swift erase. The sense of dread built inside of you only worsened as the waves of hatred and wrath overwhelmed you.

You would have mistaken them as your own, but you knew that your rage wasn’t the same as this. Or it shouldn't be, at least. You knew better, the urge to sob from everything being too much since you knew that this anger was in fact only yours. If being stuck in this black emptiness was what you were going to endure now, you shifted your thoughts to focus on that fact. Would the loneliness torment you, or your grief?

You felt…determined to not let what happened to you occur again. Not like you would have the chance to, anyways, as you were stuck down here. You couldn’t even do much down here, let alone understand what would happen to you. 

Nothing can protect you down here now, except for yourself. Lord only knows if you’ll have the chance to build your strength back up, though. It was impossible to know, maybe you’d endure the worst of the worst before disintegrating into nothing.

As if your mind was reeled in by a fish hook, the smell of…something sweet invites itself into your senses. It was a strong contrast to your environment, and it only made you feel dizzier as you struggled to look up. Whatever it was, you tried not to curse under your breath.

Your body stiffened, gagging slightly as you winced from the attempt to move. Managing a shuddering breath, you squeezed your eyes shut. You could already guess that you would be face to face with something like this inevitably, but you didn’t think that it would be so soon. If you had some strength to you, at least you would’ve had a chance to fight.

How cruel the Gods were, to not even spare you peace of mind. You heard the sound of light steps hitting gravel as they approached, the smell only becoming stronger the closer they neared. At least this seemed to overwhelm your pain, if only the slightest. If this soul had even the most minor sense of mercy, maybe you could go painlessly. 

Something seemed to graze against your cheek, cold yet smooth like porcelain. 

Was that... You felt the thumb of their hand rub your cheek hesitantly as if testing your reaction. You only winced in response, your eyes forcing themselves to stay shut. Almost tenderly, another hand scooped to the other side of your face as they lifted your head. 

You attempted to open your eyes finally, your breath quickening. They soon widened, however, as you stared at the figure before you. He was beautifully terrifying, that was the only way you could describe him. With wide sockets and gentle eyelights that felt so comforting in this horrid place, it was hard to look away. It was funny really, seeing as he looked just like a skeleton. You should've questioned your descriptions, if you could even place why his gaze felt so comforting in the first place.

His sockets were pronounced with a light blue eyeliner, eyelights a very faint white of a creamy pearl. There was silver jewelry on his phalanges as they clinked together,  Even if you could hardly make out anything about his outfit, you could see the fine clothing fitting his frame perfectly of black robes and silk. Yet, you found yourself struggling to find the finer details as his gloved hands moved your head to look at him.

Even if he was crouched down before you, now taking in your state, it was obvious he was much taller when standing. Almost inhumanly tall, though that wasn’t saying much. You already knew where you were, but this didn't ease the ball of fear still dwelling inside your chest. His eyes were studying you, silent. You didn't care though not when your eyes locked with what was behind him. Wings, so soft and white, a harsh contrast. There had to at least be six of them, folded only partially before they stretched out wide around you.

You could hardly muster a word before your body betrayed you, your body buffering as it once more released another coughing hazard in his direction. He stiffened, if only slightly as he tilted his head up to avoid spit hitting his face. He set you back down, sliding you back on the ground with minor struggle as he pulled away. "....u're…ot…supposed…be…ere…re you?” (You're not supposed to be here, are you?)

Tears stung your eyes and you only slightly felt confused as he started unclipping part of his robes. His movements were languid, yet precise as he finally released a soft sigh at the extra layer of clothing no longer restricting his movements. He seemed to be muttering something, but you were too disoriented to understand him. 

His shoulders slacked as you felt a weight press into you. His coat instantly looked dirtier, blood and dirt tainting it as you took fistfuls of the coat close. It instantly brought a sense of comfort, and you pulled it closer to you without much thought. You instantly were enveloped with the smell of rain and something akin to fresh earth.

He seemed content with himself as he started tucking the coat around you. You didn’t like to admit it, but now that you felt less exposed with the coat over you, you didn’t seem to pay much attention to what he was doing. You could only do so much as your face buried itself in the softness and warmth of the polyester under your cracked fingers.

You tried to make out what he was muttering, but he seemed to have stopped as you suddenly felt something firm wrap securely around your body. You could hardly struggle, let alone understand that he was now lifting you into his arms. 

He softly hushed your croaks of complaint, your vision slowly growing fuzzy around the edges of your sight. There seemed to now be gentleness in his eyes as he pressed you closer to his chest. One arm was wrapped underneath you, the other looped over as his hand rested on your shoulder as he started to stand. 

Almost immediately, your hands moved forward as you pathetically tried to move away from him. Even as he held you, your hand moved to his chest and pushed as you bit down on your tongue. It was pointless, though. He hardly budged, only squeezing you closer to him as his voice reached your ears. He looked at you almost sympathetically, but he stood either way. 

“Shh….ts…ay….keep-...afe,” (Shh, it's okay, I'll keep you safe.)

Now that he was standing, he swiftly moved the coat over you and started to move forward. It was a strange feeling, his tall stature almost alarming as your eyes looked down. He had to be at least 7-8 feet tall, and his body seemed to float as he moved quickly as he kept speaking. Something something something or whatever, it wasn't your top priority at the moment though.

You had given up fighting, your body going limp as you tried to hold onto whatever you had left of your consciousness. He felt warm pressed against you, one arm moving over you comfortingly as he rubbed your body. It wasn't in any way doing much for you nonetheless, only feeling numb from the previous pain inflicted on you. After trying to grab at the slipping thoughts in your mind, you tried your best to speak. 

Well, as best as you could anyway. The ringing in your ears refused to leave you alone as you barely felt your throat speak. You must have said something because he immediately looked down, tilting his head slightly. He faltered, if only for a moment before he stopped walking altogether. You must have spoken loudly enough though, which was something.

“...oul…ctured…ease….eep,” (your soul looks fractured, please get some sleep) It hurt, it really did. You were gasping to regain your breath, though it feels like every breath you took set your ribs on fire. Your mind was going blank, so you blink again, hearing other noises but not currently making sense of any of them. You wince a little as he speaks again. It feels uncomfortable and weird in his hold, but you're really in no condition nor do you have the will to fight it. 

Stars above, you're really tired. 

The fuzziness in your vision grew as your eyes fluttered shut. He did feel…nice, comforting to some extent. You had sunken more into the coat wrapped around you and felt lightheaded as you could hear your raspy breath over the faint sounds of what seemed to be a soft hush that mimicked actual speaking. And finally, you let your body succumb to sleep. What else could you do, anyway?

You poor thing, but don't fret. Reaper will make sure to take care of you, little dove.