Undecided Nightmare

I’m not sure about any other fandoms at the moment, but I am open to Undertale, FNAF, and Linked Universe prompts! I haven’t written for the latter two yet, but I’m up for trying!

I’m not super comfortable with writing any romantic ships, but I’m all for platonic! Do bear in mind that I won’t write any incest or other such ships in any way.

All that said, I’m just trying to have fun here, and share that joy with you all in little writing gifts!

All of my work is cross-posted on AO3 if you want to read it there instead!

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flamestar30

What game do you associate most strongly with a specific time in your life?

Feed your dashboard by answering my question, blogger.

Hopefully Dust is able to get himself and the other two out👀

- @val-va2

Across the Multiverse, Monsters began to awaken. The blinding light had cleared, and a new balance had been established.

Ink and Error, two of the first to wake, noticed a new AU that seemed to have created itself. Within lay a singular apple tree, the fruits Purple and Gold respectively.

Though usually at odds in everything else, they agreed that the AU must be left undisturbed by outside and inside forces.

Error altered the Code of the universe, preventing any other Monsters or Humans from existing there. Ink created a barrier from the outside, letting no one in, not even themselves.

Upon entering the Doodle Sphere once more, he noticed a chord resembling a tree root that led from New Dreamtale to all other AUs. It must be the connection for the balance. He put a protection on those too.

The mistakes of the past would not be repeated, if at all possible.

That leaves the remnants of said past to deal with.

All of those aware of the Multiverse had been knocked out with the blast, waking up in their AUs once more. All those in the Omega Timeline, and anyone who was out and about were included in this.

Those that don’t have an AU anymore were RESET to their new homes. Either way, everyone was sent back.

This included the Murder Time Trio, who were at the focus point of the blast.

Horror woke up first. Upon seeing his old room around him, he shot out of bed and raced outside.

The inhabitants of his AU were pleased to see him, but he had more important things to focus on. He used the connection his world has to the Omega Timeline and made haste for Killer’s world.

Killer woke second. He panicked mildly at seeing his world, but simply sat and waited. His soul was in a strange shape, and he felt VERY strange. He doesn’t remember the last time he’s been free of any sort of control.

He wasn’t surprised when Horror showed up, or when he proposed the next course of action.

Dust woke last. The memory of the blast and his subsequent appearance in bed took a moment to register. As he sat and studied his old walls, it truly set in what this meant.

He had done it. They were free. He was finally home.

Then why doesn’t he feel accomplished?

This had been his goal, right? He had wanted to return home from the moment Nightmare had kidnapped him.

Then why isn’t he happy?

He slowly exited his room and meandered down the stairs to the door.

Stepping out into his Snowdin Town was the same as it’d been when he left. Everything was the same.

He never thought he’d come to believe it, but he truly does now. The Human really isn’t coming back. This is the end. The only end. The resolution to his story.

Dust doesn’t feel like he’s allowed to, but a few tears slip down his skull unbidden anyway. He lets them continue to fall as he falls to his knees in the snow.

This is the home he has created for himself, the home he longed to return to, but he’s not sure if he could even call it ‘home’ anymore. There is truly nothing left here.

Nothing but him.

And a strange glowing portal sticking out against the background.

He slowly lifts his head as two hands, one covered in black stains but so similar to his own, one larger and more scarred, reach for him on the ground.

He feels a smile cross his face as he slowly, but surely, reaches back.

His home has come for him, who is he to deny it?

The eve of Nightmare’s rein has passed, and the dawn of a new world has begun. A new beginning.

The Murder has finally ended.

This is it. He’s ready to begin now.

Dust has created multiple notes, all consisting of a variation of the following: “I have a plan to get rid of Nightmare. I need your help. Meet me after battle to discuss.”

He left these notes in places where they could be easily found by the Stars. The more AUs they went through, the more suspicious looks he got from the do-gooders during fights.

On one of his solo missions, he stopped and waited for the Star Sanses to show up. Sure enough, a couple minutes later, they hopped out of a portal right in front of him.

Dream looked him up and down, and must have realized he was not prepared for battle, considering he lowered his guard and approached. Swap and Ink trailed behind him, clearly still tense.

“We have received your various notes. What do you mean ‘get rid of Nightmare?’” Dream looked nervous, and for good reason.

“Exactly as I said. I have a plan to end his rein of terror, but I’m going to need your help.”

Dream seemed pensive, but something occurred to him and he gave a resolute look to Dust. “What’s the plan? What do you need us to do?”

Dust smirked and pulled out a notebook from his inventory. “Nightmare is planning a big heist in Mafiatale copy 416 in a week. I need you all to show up and start the fight, and I’ll help you drag him to Fluffytale, where we can finish him.”

“How are you so sure this will work? And why are you trying it in the first place?” It seems Swap has more of a brain on his shoulders than he thought.

Dust glowered back in return. “Because despite popular belief, I HATE Nightmare, and I’d love nothing more than to see him FALL.”

The Stars flinched at this, but Dream quickly recovered to make peace. “It’s not a bad plan in theory, but what will you do if it doesn’t work out?”

“Then I’ll finally get the ending I deserve. It’s high time I pay for my actions, and if this plan doesn’t work, Nightmare will SURELY be rid of me. I’ve already pushed his buttons far enough.”

None of the Stars looked particularly happy about that thought, but Ink was far more on board than the others. Dust forgets that he doesn’t technically have a soul either.

“Well there’s no way to know except to try! We’ll be there!”

“Good.” Dust stepped back from their group and began to meld into the shadows of their surroundings. “I’ll do my part, and you do yours.”

He quickly teleported from the location to a spot across the Underground from them. He can’t be seen near them if he wants to have any chance at making this work.

Now, all he has to do is wait.

The day is here. Nightmare has the Trio lined up in front of them once more, and was debriefing them for the mission.

Dust wasn’t paying attention. It won’t matter what Nightmare says anyway. All he does pick up on is that Nightmare will be accompanying them for once.

This works very well for Dust. All according to plan.

They arrive in Mafiatale, and are present for what could only be a couple minutes before the Stars show up. The ensuing battle is one of the worst they’ve ever faced.

Dust immediately puts himself on the defensive, dodging and deflecting all the attacks coming for him. He notices the Stars looking at him throughout the battle, and gives a subtle ‘not yet’ shake of his head.

It’s not very much longer before it seems like Nightmare might call a retreat. Now Dust strikes.

He goes full offensive against Nightmare, and his sudden vigor startles the Stars into action. They quickly bare down on Nightmare, knocking him closer and closer to an open area that was created during the battle.

Killer and Horror were both shocked, having not expected any of this. Horror takes this as his chance and joins the fray, but Killer jumps to Nightmare’s defense.

Dust had been waiting for that, and quickly casted a Karma attack at Killer, striking his throwing arm and giving the weakness needed to keep him out of the fight. He also vaults him out of danger with his Blue magic before turning back to the real mess.

Dream has already opened a portal to Fluffytale, and Nightmare seems to be figuring out what’s happening. He tries to use his tendrils to make a portal out, but Horror slips up behind him and severs them off with his axe.

All of the Trio know that it takes a while for the appendages to fully reform, less time in a negative area. Knowing this, Dust charges the strongest Gaster Blaster he can and blasts Nightmare back through the portal.

He grabs Killer with his Blue magic and tosses him through, before following all of the Stars through. With this movement, he ceases the Karma, preventing Killer from dying. He sees Dream already baring down on a visibly weak Nightmare.

The positive feelings in the air must be making Dream stronger, his aura becoming a gold ring around him. The oozing mess that usually covers Nightmare is melting off of him in gross blobs.

Dust and the others step back to give Dream more space as he pins the negative being to the ground with glowing arrows. His expression is not one of victory, but of mourning and resolution.

“Brother, it’s time we end this century-long charade.”

Nightmare scoffed and glared back at Dream with a menacing gleam in his eyelight. “You’re no brother of mine. And I will not let this defeat me. This is NOT OVER!”

Dream stepped forward and, in a swift movement, seized Nightmare’s soul from his chest. “I’m afraid that it is. I will end this.”

Everyone watched with bated breath as Dream then summoned his own soul. He turned back to the group behind them and gave them a mournful smile.

“I’m afraid this is goodbye. I will recreate the Tree of Feelings and restore the balance in the Multiverse. I will miss you, my friends, and I wish you well, those whom my brother has tormented. Farewell.”

Nightmare began to truly struggle on the ground, but even He seemed to know it was over. Dream looked him in the ‘eye’, and merged their souls together.

A blinding white light began to emit from the connection, before exploding outward and knocking everyone away in different directions.

Dust went flying backwards and a loud ringing began to drown everything else out. The world seemed to blend together around him, which was something new to see.

Dust was given a brief reprieve from universe hopping to give his bones a chance to heal. With this new time off, he made to jump one of the last hurdles.

Killer’s soul.

It’s very different from a Monster soul in its current state, and it doesn’t even slightly resemble a Human soul.

Knowing this, Dust is working from ground zero on what to do about Nightmare’s control. He has no idea how Killer’s soul works.

All he does know is there are multiple stages. He’s only ever really seen the second stage, which is Killer’s default at this point. He’s heard of the first stage, caught glimmers of it trying to surface, but has never interacted with it.

He’s also heard of stages three and four. By heard of, he’s read about them in the comprehensive book Nightmare has on Killer.

Nightmare has such detailed books about almost every universe they’ve ever been to, themselves included. They aren’t very personal, omitting any internal views of the people they are written about.

Just cold, factual statements about the world and their stats. Like they’re objects, like TOOLS.

That sentiment is the driving force leading him to his next decision. He can’t find the information, so he just has to discover it himself.

Part of him cringes at the thought of prying into Killer like this, but he’s doing it for Killer and everyone else’s own good. When the time comes, Nightmare can’t have control over him.

Dust has a couple different ideas to try. He knows that Blue magic works at length, seeing as how they were easily dragged out of hiding on his last mission, but he wants to see if Karma might work as well.

It’s been a long time since he’s been able to use Karma, he’s not sure if he even can anymore. What he does know, is that if he can, it would be enough to whittle Nightmare’s control.

It could be that if he tried to control killer while Karma was active, it could transfer to Nightmare. He knows that the ‘king’ is no saint, and has sins he must pay for.

The perfect time he could test these theories is during one of their usual fights. He’s currently stuck at base, so he’s going to have to wait until Killer is back from his various missions.

He doesn’t have to fake his LV spike for their next duel, the thoughts of what he has planned has amplified it naturally. It just makes things easier for him.

The fight started off as usual, with the barrage of attacks and dodging usually involved. It’s about halfway through that things change.

Dust teleports behind Killer and quickly seizes his soul with Blue magic. The effect is immediate: Killer drops like a stone to the ground, and has a lot of trouble moving around.

He takes this small second before Killer frees himself to study his soul a bit closer. He can feel the instability of it through the magic binding it, and it gives him a better idea of what he can do.

Killer finally shakes his magic off and the fight resumes, albeit a bit wonkier from Killer’s new suspicion of his actions.

He waits a little bit before sending an unavoidable flurry of attacks laced with what he hopes is Karma. He’s still not sure if he has that magic anymore, but no better way to find out.

Killer is struck, and immediately Dust can see it take its toll on him. Killer falters HARD, stumbling and then crashing to the ground. The red and white circles of his soul are tinged with the vengeful purple shade and fluctuate rapidly in distress.

Dust quickly relinquishes the magic and Killer slumps where he lays. He makes his way over and drops into a crouch next to him.

“Killer are you alright?”

“Why’d you do that? That HURT, you jerk!” Killer tried to push himself up on weak arms, but flopped back onto the ground.

“Sorry. Didn’t think it’d work.”

“Well, next time, maybe DON’T test stuff out on me. Geez.”

He looped Killer’s arm around his shoulder and helps him inside. Horror had been watching the fight, and already had some healing food laid out for Killer once he settled him down at the table.

Dust lets himself zone back out as soon as he finished his portion. Now he knows both options work, and there’s nothing left to do.

TW: A bit of blood

The pain in his arm was searing. It felt like his bone was boiling from the bite mark through his body.

He ducked into an alcove in the Lab and tried in vain to ease the pain. WHY he thought that attacking the Amalgamates without any prior planning was a good idea, he’ll never know.

He heard the distant sound of wet footsteps getting closer, and quickly got up to MOVE. He was already quite deep in the Lab, but having worked here, he knows where little hidden rooms are.

He finds one of such rooms and ducks inside, sealing the door behind him. The doors were made specifically to react to three certain people’s magic, so the Amalgamate can’t get in even if it tries.

He breaths a small sigh of relief before the adrenaline wears off once more and the pain in his arm doubles. He stumbles further into the room and blindly fumbles for a light switch.

Briefly blinding himself, he quickly recovers and takes a good look around. Weird, he doesn’t seem to recognize this one. Maybe it was a new one that Gaster planned to show him later?

All of the suspiciously blank papers lying on the floor and covering a desk in the center of the room prove his theory. Everything that Gaster had done went blank after his dip in the Core.

While curiosity was strong, the need to find a Med Kit was a more pressing matter. Knowing the old worry wart, there was bound to be one lying in here somewhere.

‘Sans’ hobbled towards the old desk and began to look through it. All of the drawers were filled with blank pages, so he moved on to the filing cabinet pushed against the back wall.

The top two drawers were in a similar state as the desk, but the bottom compartment proved fruitful.

It was filled with old ribbons of all sorts of colors and shapes. ‘Sans’ pulled some of them out, and upon closer inspection, realized they were HIS ribbons.

“He really kept all of these?” He mumbled to himself. A familiar feeling of grief welled up inside him once more.

He took a deep breath to stabilize himself, then found a long, tough ribbon. It was blue, and he could faintly remember earning it at a school event for a science project.

‘Sans’ wrapped the ribbon around his upper arm and tied it TIGHT. He could bandage and treat the wound later, but he needed it to stop bleeding for the moment.

The makeshift-tourniquet worked, and the blood began to slow. That problem solved, he now needed to make his way out of the Lab.

He moved back to the door and listened for the Amalgamate. Hearing nothing, he slowly opened the door and crept back out into the hallway.

A gargled groan echoed out behind him, and he didn’t hesitate to begin running. It was hard to see in the darkness, but he noticed a path of sludge on the ground from the Amalgamate.

He followed the path back to the main room, and booked it for the doors. The Amalgamate was hot on his heels, and he could feel its limbs reaching out to grab him.

The air in Hotland has always been suffocating for him, but it was a huge relief to his current adrenaline-spiked body.

He stumbled a good ways down the path before taking a short-cut to Waterfall. He slumped to the ground and finally let himself rest.

The pain in his arm was muted without the blood flow, but that sensation was unbearable. He untied the ribbon and stuffed it into his pocket.

Mustering up the strength to move, ‘Sans’ made his way to Undyne’s home. It’s long past the point in the Run where he killed her, so he doesn’t need to worry about that.

He stepped through her door and dug around in her things before finding a Med Kit. He took some of the pain pills before disinfecting and wrapping the bite.

All of this effort would be wasted with the RESET, but he needed a good shot at the Human to make this Run worth it.

‘Sans’ began to feel drowsy, and chalked it up to the mix of pain pills and the adrenaline crash. He slid down one of the walls and laid down on the ground.

He’d need to think of a plan for the next time he tries to defeat the Amalgamates.

This was the most forward plan that Dust has had so far.

Nightmare had sent the Trio out on another mission that was far more gruesome than necessary, and Dust was not going to put up with it this time.

It was so obvious that it was simply for His own entertainment, that there wasn’t His usual purpose of ‘spreading negativity to bully my stupid brother’.

The purposeless misery of the people in these AUs bothered Dust, which is why he’s doing this.

The AU they were sent to was already aware of the Multiverse, which is a rare occurrence. It just makes his job easier.

They strolled out of the portal into the Snowdin forest, as usual. Dust has no idea why they never go anywhere else first, maybe Nightmare thinks it bothers them more.

“Remember, we’re aiming for the Royal family, but we are to take anyone out along the way if we can do so stealthily. We’ll take the sheltered paths through each area.”

Dust never talks this much and he knew it would make the other two suspicious, but one look told them not to comment on it.

“We know Dusty, we were all present when Boss gave the order.” Killer scoffed at him before taking the lead and strolling away.

Horror gave him a narrowed glare before following behind Killer’s fading figure. All the more in his favor.

Dust waited until they were both out of sight before slowly turning and looking directly into one of the hidden cameras in the bushes. He’s thankful that the placement of those cameras never seems to change.

He waited until he saw the blinking of the light go off two times before shooting a bone attack straight through the lens.

He’s not sure if it’s an Alphys or someone else in this universe who’s in charge of the Lab, but he figured that the threat and clear plan of action was pretty universal.

A sense of guilt floods him at the fact that the others are completely unaware and unprepared for the effects of his plan, but he knows they would try to stop him if given the chance.

Dust marched on after the other two and caught up to them within no time. He kept his head down so as to not make ‘eye’-contact with either of them.

He could feel their stares burning a hole through his hoodie, but he’d long since stopped letting stuff like that get to him.

He’d simply work a little harder to keep them clear during the battle he knew would take place.

They didn’t make it farther than the first storage box before they were stopped. A sudden surge of magic threw them out into the open, and the whole of the Snowdin Royal guard was waiting for them.

Looking a bit closer, Dust recognized that it wasn’t just Snowdin, but all of the sector’s guards, led by Undyne herself. The Sans of this universe was also present, being the one responsible for the magic.

Killer and Horror quickly jumped up into a defensive stance, while Dust took a more leisurely pace. The guards seemed to be waiting for their group to make the first move, and Killer has never been known to be patient.

The ensuing battle didn’t last more than a few minutes before the Star Sanses appeared. It seems that this AU was not only aware, but also prepared.

The Trio held their ground for a while until Nightmare finally yanked them out of there. There were minimal injuries, thankfully, but that was the least of his concerns right then.

Nightmare was LIVID. The goop that makes up his form almost seemed to be boiling with the way it was moving, and if looks could kill, Dust would resemble his namesake to a concerning degree.

The other two jumped to their feet and tried to right themselves, but they needn’t have bothered. They weren’t His focus.

Dust was ripped off the floor by one of the slimy tendrils that protrude from Nightmare’s back. It quickly tightened around his body, restricting his movement and his breathing in one move.

He was brought face-to-face with Nightmare’s glowing cyan eyelight. His usual aura of negativity had ramped up to a startling degree.

“So, not only did you fail the mission SPECTACULARLY, you also did it on PURPOSE. I planned and prepared that heist for WEEKS, and you decided to sabotage it all.”

He didn’t think Nightmare could get more angry at the current moment, but it seemed thinking about just how BADLY Dust had ruined his entertainment sent it skyrocketing.

“I’m beginning to grow rather bored of your constant game of resistance. You are lucky to still be of use to me, otherwise I would have long disposed of you.” Nightmare glowered at him, before a wicked grin seized his face.

Dust felt a chill run down his spine at the sudden look of pleasure gleaming in Nightmare’s eye.

“Seeing as how I can’t get rid of you, I suppose I’ll have to settle for BREAKING you instead. Not permanently of course, I still need you in working order, but something to make you SUFFER for your transgressions today.”

The tendril binding him began to tighten more and more, cutting off his air supply and causing Dust to choke. “I have an idea!”

The sickening CRACK of his bones breaking echoed through the throne room. Dust clenched his jaw to hold back a scream as more and more of his ribs caved under the pressure.

Nightmare threw him into the floor roughly and caused more cracks to ring out from his head and his arms. The pain was almost unbearable, but he wouldn’t give Nightmare the pleasure of hearing him cry out.

“Remember this the next time you try to defy me.” With that, Nightmare left the room, taking his suffocating aura with him.

Dust took a shallow breath of relief, before coughing and clutching his chest. The other two were still standing somewhere behind him, but he couldn’t focus past the ringing in his skull.

He would remember this, but not in the way Nightmare wants.

There were many things that Dust hated about the Human. Most of which were very obvious and self-explanatory.

One of the most irksome, was its idea of consequences in the Underground.

The belief it held that it could do whatever it wanted, kill as many people as it wanted, and nothing would come of it because they could RESET and erase it.

This logical fallacy was one he made sure to correct. Maybe the realization that it was a fruitless battle was what finally made it quit. He’ll never know, and he’d never ask.

The more pressing issue is the fact that Nightmare has the same kind of thought process.

He’s sure Nightmare knows it isn’t true, but the fact that he says it and acts like it anyway is what angers him.

It’s like he believes that making the Trio kill or ruin lives and families keeps his hands clean. Dust hates being made to do someone else’s dirty work.

Dust pushed the throne room doors open and took his place in line next to Killer. Nightmare smiled down on them all from his throne atop a small staircase in front of them.

He could tell from the look on his face that Nightmare had something planned He figured would hurt them in some way.

“Now that you’re all here, I will discuss what I have planned today. You are to go to this AU and cause distress as usual. Show no MERCY.”

Horror, who was on the other side of Killer, shifted nervously. Dust could understand that. Nightmare has never really specified that they be cruel, so there must be something else at play.

Killer didn’t outwardly show any hesitance for their orders, but Dust knows he’s just as confused.

Nightmare gave them a knowing smirk, the monster. He could feel their unease and was probably feasting on it as usual. He ripped open a portal behind them and waved toward it with a hand.

“Go on then! And enjoy this gift from me!” Dust was further confused by this, but dutifully followed Killer through without hesitating. They all knew what would happen if they show weakness to Nightmare.

They stepped out into the AU’s Snowdin Forest, a common starting location for their missions. The Trio quickly melded into the trees and made their way toward the center of Snowdin.

Dust noticed rather quickly that there was an odd shining coming through the trees the closer they got to town. The reason soon became clear when they could see the town in full.

The residents were all circled around the tree in the town square, and the extra glow was coming from all the houses being decked out in lights.

It was the celebration of Gyftmas. Nightmare had sent them here to ruin one of the most important Monster holidays.

Dust didn’t think he could hate the Monster more, but Nightmare keeps proving him wrong.

He looked over at the other two and noticed they were in similar states of surprise and outrage respectfully. This mission was one that was specifically targeted to upset them.

And it was definitely working.

Instead of attacking, they sat there and watched the festivities take place. Dust was lost in reminiscence for a while.

It has been a very long time since the last Gyftmas that he’d been able to share with his home. He can’t remember anymore if it had been close to arriving or just passing when the RESETS started.

What he does remember is the joy. It seeped out of even the most bitter residents. Papyrus was especially happy. Full of so much joy all the time, and Gyftmas only projected it onto everyone else.

He smiles at the thought, then comes back to the present and lets it fall. He knew almost immediately after they’d seen it, but he’s even more sure that he can’t ruin the holiday for these residents.

Horror seemed to be of a similar thought process, with his movement further away from the open. Killer seemed far more conflicted, and for good reason.

“I can’t believe he’d do this. We can’t ruin this for ‘em. It’s one o’ the only things that made the year worthwhile back in my world.”

Dust agreed with Horror. Gyftmas was a sort of sacred peace day that even the worst of the worst would never taint.

“We can’t disobey Boss. Not again. He’s already upset with us anyway.” Killer looked between Dust and Horror before looking back out at the gathered villagers again.

Horror and Dust both shivered a bit, but Dust quickly shook it off. He’d rather face Nightmare’s hissy fit a thousand times than fail his brother once more. Even if it’s another version of him.

“How’s about we go attack one’a the other places instead? Gyftmas was always more important ‘round here than Hotland.”

“Boss would probably still be upset by that though. We’re obviously supposed to start here.”

“And since when have we ever completed a mission exactly how Nightmare wants? As long as we stir things up, we’re doing exactly as he told us.”

Killer glanced at Horror then Dust, and finally sighed while stepping back. Dust nodded to them both and turned to make his way to Hotland.

It’s not the first time he’s made a decision for the group, and it probably won’t be the last. He’s usually the one left to make the final choice.

The others fell into step behind him, and he silently made a choice. He’d take responsibility for this if Nightmare got mad. It’d be like a small gift in return for the nice things the two have done for him since he was ripped from his world.

Just to be even with them, that’s all it is. Maybe even a small influence of the holiday spirit.

(He’s not sure he believes that himself.)

‘Sans’ clutched at his chest as he stumbled back from the fatal hit. The diagonal cut across his ribs began to ooze blood down his front.

The Human started to laugh, an ugly, grating, horrid noise that echoed off the walls and stabbed like needles into his sensitive head.

“Wow! Even with all that extra power, you’re still just as weak as before! I’m honestly impressed!” It smiled and took a menacing step towards him.

He took another shaky step back before his knees collapsed under him and he crashed to the floor. He continued to try adding pressure to the cut, but he knows a losing battle when he sees it.

It advanced once more and looked down upon him. Its smile etched itself into his memory as he glared back.

“I suppose there’s always next time for you to try again! After all, Sans, I’m not finished with you or this world. We’re having so much fun, and I’d hate for it to end!”

He could not care less for how the Human feels. In its mind, all the Monsters are just pawns in a game. (This statement has more truth to it than he knew before, but he prefers not to think of that.)

The Human stepped back, finally, and chuckled as it started to walk away. “Well, I’ll leave you to it then! See you soon!”

Monster kind has many notable things in its culture that Humans don’t have. This ranges from food to ceremonies, like any race.

One in particular, is the distribution of a Monster’s Dust.

‘Sans’ has been without a RESET for at least a couple months at this point, and he’s starting to think that the Human is REALLY taking its time.

He never really bothered to do anything with the dust of all the Monsters, especially considering a lot of it was floating around freely with no true way to be able to tell who it was supposed to be anymore.

However, it’s starting to bug him the longer he’s stuck alone with his thoughts.

Usually, a Monster’s Dust would be spread by friends or family on things they loved in life. Their favorite mug, or a favorite spot for a picnic, it differed from Monster to Monster.

‘Sans’ finally cracked. If the Human was going to take this long to come back, then the least he could do in its absence was show some respect for the people who used to call him a friend.

He started with Alphys, considering her dust was contained within her lab. Entering that building again brought back many memories, and only furthered his dreary mood.

He collected her dust in her lab coat and strolled over to her room. She kept a lot of her ‘Mew Mew Kissy Cutie’ merch everywhere, but more of it was centered in her bedroom.

He sprinkled most of her dust there, leaving her lab coat on top of some on her bed, but gathered a least two handfuls of it to spread elsewhere.

‘Sans’ then made his way to Waterfall. He figured Undyne would be a lot harder, considering she was out in the open, but was surprised to find she was mostly intact too.

He gathered her dust and carried it to her old house, dusting her kitchen and her room where she housed her weapons. He took one of the piles of Alphys’ dust and sprinkled it on Undyne’s bed.

It was no secret to just about everyone in the Underground what those two felt for each other, and ‘Sans’ had especially been aware, seeing as how Alphys had confided in him about it.

Funny, how someone she had trusted with her biggest secret was the one to tear it all apart in the end.

He took a small amount of Undyne’s dust with him when he left, and dusted the Old Man’ shop with it. They had been close, and he felt the need to honor that.

There wasn’t much he could do for all of the Monsters in the Underground, seeing as he wasn’t super close with everyone, but he showed them respect every time he crossed a spot where someone laid.

He teleported to the Ruins and pushed the big doors open. Walking those dark lonely hallways amplified the dark atmosphere he carried with him.

Toriel had been a good friend, and had once been the Queen of the Underground. She had been the one a long time ago to rescue Gaster from the War, and by proxy, Sans and Papyrus.

He wrapped her dust in her robes and left a little bit of it in her home on the stove and on her snail books. The rest he took with him to the Palace, where he sprinkled it in Asriel and Chara’s old rooms.

She might not have cared much for him at the end of her life, but she had loved Asgore dearly for a long time. He took a small portion of her dust that he laid with Asgore’s.

‘Sans’ didn’t need to move most of Asgore’s dust, seeing as he was already laying on the flowers he held so dear, but he did gather a small bit to spread in the children’s rooms like he did Toriel.

He teleported back to the Ruins and gathered the remains of Flowey. Though he looked vastly different, seeing as how his first death changed him, he was still Asriel.

As such, he took his dust and left it with Asgore and Toriel’s, sprinkling a small portion in his old room with Chara.

The Royal family having been taken care of, he dropped by the broken husk of Mettaton and left the rest of Alphys’ dust there.

Drawing back to Snowdin, he made his way to a couple of the guard stations and took care of their dust. He also went by Grillby’s to spread him around his restaurant.

With nowhere else to go, he made his way to the familiar clearing in the woods where his brother laid.

Stepping back into the area struck a deep chord within him. Did he really just leave his brother here? Had he become so desensitized to everything that he disgraced him like that?

‘Sans’ truly had become a MONSTER. A picture-perfect representation of what Humans believed them to be.

He stumbled forward and fell to his knees next to his brother’s dust. It was also spared from the wind, which only lessened his guilt a minor degree.

Slowly, like the dust might evaporate if he moved too quickly, he gathers Papyrus up and teleported to their old home.

He found an abandoned plate of spaghetti on the counter and dusted some of his brother there. That had been his favorite dish to make, and ‘Sans’ knew he’d like to be there.

Climbing the stairs very slowly, he shambled his way into Papyrus’ room and left the rest of his dust on his bed. Some of his dust stuck to ‘Sans’’ jacket, which he brushed off into Papyrus’ closet.

It occurred to him then that Papyrus’ scarf would be an important item to leave with his dust.

Papryus had always cherished his scarf, even after he couldn’t remember where it’d come from. Gaster had given it to him a long time before, using it as a swaddle for a while while Papyrus was nothing but a babybones.

He should, as such, leave it behind.

‘Sans’ had always been a bit selfish. He had fostered an attachment for his brother’s scarf, and he realized that he couldn’t, WOULDN’T, leave it behind.

As he stroked the scarf around his neck, he noticed that some of Papyrus’ dust had stuck to it from when he picked him up. Seeing this, he let the matter go.

If his dust was on it, then ‘Sans’ could keep it. He was still distributing it on the stuff Papyrus loved, just keeping it on him instead of leaving it here to rot.

He walked back to the door of the room, but stopped before he closed it behind him. He turned to face his brother’s bed and whispered one final phrase before he closed the door.

Dust has always had Patience. As Sans, it was one of his main soul traits. It still is a trait of his, but it is more of an afterthought than a main idea anymore.

He is also filled with HATRED.

He hated the Human for what it did to him and his world, he hated himself for falling so far and committing the ultimate sins that he had.

More importantly, at the moment, he HATES Nightmare.

He ripped him from his home, his duty, to play ‘team’ with a group of idiots. (He’s noticed that he says that with less scorn than he used to. He doesn’t know how to feel about that.)

He sends Dust on missions he knows will mess with his brain because He knows it bothers him. He does it just because he can.

Nightmare also blackmails all of them. The fact that He does this to the others bothers Dust more than he lets on.

He will reshape and reform Killer anytime he steps out of line, like he’s some kind of clay toy for his use.

He threatens Horror with food, knowing that he has issues with a lack of it.

He treats Dust like a game, something that he can put through many different situations, mostly horrible, just to have a different reaction.

Nightmare must think that at some point, Dust will crack like the others have. He will turn into a loyal servant like Killer, or a blank slate like Horror.

But Dust has Patience.

He’s played this game before with the Human, and he cracked then. He will not do so again.

Nightmare will try all he wants, but Dust will simply wait him out. If He wanted Dust dead, then he would have already killed him.

Dust will play Nightmare’s game, and HE WON’T LOSE.

He will be patient. He will wait for the opportune time to dethrone the ‘king’. He will let the HATRED simmer under the surface and build.

He knows that Nightmare can sense his ire, and he wants Him to. He wants Nightmare to think He’s winning.

Arrogance is the surest way to lose any fight. And Nightmare won’t realize that until it’s too late.

Dust simply just needs to have Patience.

‘Sans’ slumped down against a tree in the woods and let out a long sigh. The trees surrounding him were still smoking from his last barrage of attacks.

His LV had spiked again, and he once more took it out on his surroundings. The Snowdin woods looked more and more rundown the longer it went without a RESET.

As per usual, he pulled out some alcohol to help with the rest of the itching sensation in his magic. This time, he pulled out a bottle of Bourbon.

‘Sans’ scrunched his face. Bourbon wasn’t bad, but he preferred the tastelessness of Vodka. It made it easier to drink.

He began to nurse the bottle as he watched his surroundings. It was snowing, as always, and he followed the flakes with his eyes as they fell.

Once upon a time, he had been curious in the science of snow falling in the Underground with no obvious source of precipitation, seeing as there are no clouds.

This had only led to the conclusion that it was simply magic, like most things down here, and the disappointment in that fact lasted for days.

Now, he had grown to admire some of these unexplainable things that occur. The snow reminded him of the old days, and it was one of the only things to not change.

A memory began to take form in front of him: Papyrus building a snow wall for defense as he started a snowball fight. He’d been so proud of his work.

Sans, at that time, had used blue magic to drop the snowballs on him from above.

Papyrus had only seen this as a challenge, and had proceeded to build an entire “snowcastle” as he called it. He even put a slanted roof on it.

The only problem had been that he had to leave an opening for him to throw snowballs. And Sans used that opening to pelt him.

He let Papyrus win in the end, of course. He’d never do anything to upset him, or to ruin his day.

One good example of the never changing snow. He himself changed long before the weather.

‘Sans’ realized that he was out of bourbon, but the job had been done. His magic was once more subdued, and he felt numb.

Just as he liked it. It was easier to feel numb than to feel the pressing guilt. The voices in his head forced the guilt upon him enough.

He let the falling flakes lull him into a light doze, and dreamed of more snow-filled days with his brother.

Perhaps, one day, he’ll get to have another snow day just like it. Perhaps he’ll get to build a fort that time around.

Perhaps, someday, he’ll see Papyrus again.

The world faded in and out with every beat of his soul. The pounding in his skull radiated throughout his whole body.

He knew he was on his back, could feel the rocky surface under him digging into his spine, but other than that he knew nothing but pain.

Dust groaned as he tried to focus on what was happening. He could hear some sort of noise far above him, but be couldn’t make out what it was.

He moved to sit up, but a radiating pain in his spine kept him down. The movement in his right arm and left leg caused the agony to ramp up tenfold.

It seems that he might have broken some more bones than he thought. The pounding in his skull only got worse with movement, and he could feel something wet begin to grow under him.

He heard a scream echo off the walls around him, and distantly he began to realize it was coming from himself. Black spots crept into his vision, and he fell into them.

The black swallowed him whole.

Dust came to with the searing pain still present, but more muted. There were little rocks falling from above sprinkling on him.

He distantly recognized that there were voices speaking, but he couldn’t understand what they were saying.

One of the voices sounded closer to him, and he tried to move away from it. He doesn’t know if these voices are friend or foe, and it’s best to be safe for now.

He had forgotten, however, that moving hurts.

A sharp gasp was ripped from his chest as he lifted his arm to shuffle away. He bit down on the scream that tried to follow it, but he dimly realized the voice had heard him already.

Dust began to grow frantic as it drew near, and tried despite the pain to MOVE. The pounding in his skull amplified until it felt like his skull was splitting apart along the previous crack.

He moved only a couple inches before giving up and laying still. Maybe the voice would leave him alone if he played dead.

The darkness was fading back in, and he caught a glimpse of a familiar face looking at him before he fell under once more.

He awoke to a numb sensation spreading through his bones. He could feel a cushion beneath his spine and could see a cast wrapped around his arm and his leg.

His skull felt stuffed with cotton, and he could feel the scratching of bandages wrapped around it, as well as most of his body.

Dust grunted as his body became more aware, and unknowingly alerted someone standing guard close by.

He saw movement in his peripheral vision, and yanked his hand up to attack. When nothing happened, he froze at the realization that he was out of magic.

The figure grew closer, and he was relieved when he recognized the familiar face of Killer. He looked worried, which was unusual, but considering the state Dust was in, he couldn’t blame him.

“Well finally you wake up. We thought you’d be sleeping forever,” Killer snarked. He could tell that it didn’t have any bite to it though. He gave him an unimpressed look in return.

Killer walked closer and began to examine his bandages. “Lookin’ good. They’re better than earlier,” he mumbled to himself.

“What… what happened?” Dust and Killer both flinched at the sound of his hoarse voice. He rubbed his throat and Killer handed him a glass of water.

“We were on a mission, obviously, and were poking around Waterfall. Horror and I heard you scream and a scatter of rocks, and we turned to see you had fallen off an unseen cliff.”

That checks out with the hoarse voice and the ache in his spine. Killer took the glass back from him and set it on the side table.

“We spent the next two hours trying to locate and then get you out of there. It didn’t help that you screamed some more and then went silent.” Killer was trying to appear nonchalant, but Dust could tell he was quite shaken.

Killer took a seat in a small chair next to the bed that Dust hadn’t noticed until then. He began to fiddle with his fingers and avoided Dust’s eyes.

“You were in rough shape when I found you. It was touch and go for a bit. Horror was real nervous you weren’t gonna pull through.” Dust could see the unspoken fact that Killer was worried about the very same thing.

“I did though. I’ll be fine, just need some time to heal.” Killer glanced at him for a moment before looking away.

“Yeah. I’ll go tell Horror you’re awake. He’ll want to know.” With that, Killer teleported out of his room.

Dust watched the spot he disappeared from for a long moment. He supposed that seeing him in bad shape at the bottom of a cliff had probably seemed similar to a fallen Monster.

He laid back further into the cushions of the bed and closed his eyes. Dust had more questions, but he’d wait to ask them for another day.

Right now, he just wanted to ease Horror’s worries and take a nap.

Sights and familiar places are often known to cause memories to surface.

Less often, but more common for Dust in particular, is sound.

The sound of a pot being stirred with a wooden spoon brings him right back to his kitchen with Papyrus. Making spaghetti was one of his favorite things to do, and Dust loved seeing him happy.

The sound of a knife brings back memories of the Human, and the horrors it brought into his life that still affect him. He can’t help Horror cook because of this.

He has learned to try and avoid these sounds as much as possible so he doesn’t have to remember. When the memories surface they trap him in a trance-sort of state.

Killer is a very bad factor that adds to this effect. His weapon of choice, and his general self, is a stark resemblance to the Human from his world.

Dust likes their spars for this fact. It helps him to work through his issue.

That doesn’t mean that it doesn’t still happen in battle.

The biggest moment of this he can remember was a fight in an AU where the Papyrus was watching.

He was trying to hype up the Stars, everyone knows that they’re the heroes and Dust’s group is the villains. This is the usual that they face.

However, he wasn’t prepared for the sound. As it turns out, hearing any version of a Papyrus can send him into a trance.

This time around, it was the laugh. Dust froze mid-shot and slumped to the ground. The world around him melted away until he was back home.

Papyrus was in front of him and talking to him. They were sitting on the couch watching a funny movie, and Papyrus began to laugh.

The memory quickly shifted to a snowball fight in the woods. Sans had face-planted into a mound of snow and Papyrus cried a little with how hard he was laughing.

He flashed through many different memories like this before it settled on one moment. His death.

Papyrus was trying to persuade him to change his mind all the way to the end. It always went that way, but Dust was pained every time.

He had laughed then, quiet and subdued but still there. It had shattered Dust like nothing else.

That sound was always supposed to be happy and full of life, not the final words of a dead man.

The Papyrus in the memory began to shake him by the shoulders, telling him to change his mind. Dust began to lift his hand to finish the job.

Papyrus shook him harder and harder, until he began to scream in his face with that coarse voice-

Wait.

That’s not what Papyrus sounds like. His voice was smooth and vibrant.

As Dust blinked, the vision around him faded until the sound of battle faded back in. He was violently ripped from his spot and thrown out of the way of an attack.

He looked up from his new position on the ground to see Killer standing in front of him and deflecting the attacks. His knife was flashing and flickering with how fast he was moving to dodge.

Dust was unnerved by the sounds, but for once it didn’t send him into a memory. It was almost comforting in a way.

He took another second to refocus, and he was back on his feet fighting next to Killer. He nodded at him and received a nod in return.

For the next couple of months, when he heard a knife, it wasn’t the same visceral reaction as it had been.

Dust would remember Killer instead of the Human, and that gave him some comfort. Maybe he wasn’t as broken as he thought.