~~~

"The person you think of as yourself exists only for you and even you don't know who that is. Everyone else creates a version of 'you' in their head. You're not the same person to anyone. There are thousands of versions of you out there"

Slim is damaged.

He stands on back porches with a cigarette between two shaking fingers, staring up at the sky like it holds answers he’s been searching for his entire life. He grins at Sans’ puns out of the corner of his mouth, like he’s trying not to think they’re funny.

There have been so many times when he’s come out of an unoccupied room, and he just stiffens as soon as he sees the other people in this one. Sometimes he walks out. Sometimes he doesn’t. Either way, his eyelights go dim.

Looking down at Sans, he always seems to have a smile on his face. He’s not sure it’s ever been real, not sure he’d even know the difference if it was.

He’s a very good actor. At least, Sans would like to think so.

Slim is a force to be reckoned with.

For the most part, he tries to hide his power. But Fell has seen him angry, he’s seen him fighting. He’s never seen him fight for his life, but he thinks he might know how it looks. Fell has an image in his head, of fire and fury and magic. He’s pretty sure not even a different reality would change that perception.

When Slim takes a breath, his ribcage moves out. This is not unusual by any means, but it moves out like it’s a chore, as though taking in a breath is the most irritating thing he’s had to do this week. Fell wonders if he wishes he didn’t have to.

How many times has he seen power under Slim’s bones? Even sprawled across the couch, his magic is pulsing. Even lifting his brows in faux amusement sparks his eyelights, broadcasting his every expression for all to see. If it were Fell, he would have long ago brought the display of emotions under wraps. He’s certain, however, that what Slim broadcasts is not what he actually feels.

Slim is a disruption.

His constant joking is influencing Blue’s brother for the worse. His pranks are messing up the house and his habits are irritating. Slim is everything Blue doesn’t want, but he can’t help but pity him.

His relationship with his own brother has suffered. That much is obvious. Not even Blue dislikes him enough to blame him for that. Razz was never very good at being his brother.

He’s quiet. He’s far too quiet when he doesn’t have that shit-eating grin across his face. Blue knows he should prefer the happiness, the giant smiles and joking laughter. He doesn’t think he’ll ever admit that he prefers the quiet, not matter how damaged that silence may be. If he did admit it, he thinks Slim might laugh. Maybe to spite him, but more likely for the sake of the laughter. He doesn’t seem to care much what Blue thinks. That suits Blue fine.

Slim is always tired.

His eyelights seem to droop, despite the scientific impossibility. He’s always looking at the ground, but Red doesn’t mind bringing it up. It makes Slim laugh when he jokes that he’s looking for the nearest Sans. Once, he responded yes, he was looking for the nearest Sans. Where else was he going to find a good soccer ball?

Red laughed. Slim didn’t. But when Red looked up, his grin was crooked across his face, staring at a wall to his left with those tired eyelights. Slim didn’t make eye contact very often.

“I’ll bet you’d get a kick out of picking on a shorter guy.”

There was the laugh.

He never seems to sleep. Red could find him at midnight, hanging upside down in a tree by his knees, just to see if he could. It could be three in the morning, and Slim could be found watching movies on the couch, raiding the pantry, doing sit-ups on the floor in the hall. Once, Red thought he saw the other staring into the cutlery drawer, no lights in his sockets. He had been half-asleep at the time. Slim claimed to have been sleep-walking. Red informed him that you can’t sleep-walk without sleeping, and the look of shock on Slim’s face had looked genuine.

Red was really beginning to realize how often Slim lied.

Slim is hilarious.

He always has a joke on the tip of his tongue, is constantly getting caught in the middle of a prank. Stretch loves to listen to him run his mouth for two minutes for the sake of a one-word punchline. That happens fairly often, probably more than should be comedically acceptable, but when’s the last time either of them cared about acceptable comedy?

One of the best things in the world is the look on anyone’s face who’s just been pranked by Slim. Stretch’s pranks are genius, of course, but Slim’s are pure art. There’s no simple bucket on top of a door with him.

Of course, Stretch pretty commonly has to talk him down from physically harming or mentally abusing someone in the same of pranking, but that’s not his fault. He’s from a Fell world, after all.

Stretch sees himself in Slim. It terrifies him, most of the time. He doesn’t like himself, but in Slim it almost seems outwardly acceptable. The tendency to draw into himself, or to joke about things that are decidedly not funny, is one they share, but it fits Slim better. He’s smaller, he’s more broken. It makes sense.

Sometimes, Stretch isn’t sure if it’s envy or pity he feels when he looks at his friend.

Slim is a good person.

He is. And it frustrates Papyrus to no end that he refuses to believe it. He’s seen him do amazing things, be kind in ways he never would have imagined. But any time Papyrus tries to tell him that, Slim tells him to fuck off. He knows it’s meant to be friendly, that that’s just how Slim is, and he truly doesn’t mind the language. He just wishes Slim would believe it.

That’s not to say that he doesn’t scare Papyrus sometimes. It’s not to say that there haven’t been times he’s wanted to pick up the nearest book and swat him on the back of the head with it. Slim is kind, but he is also unbelievably frustrating.

But no one is perfect. No one ever has been and no one ever will be, and most of the people Papyrus knows didn’t have to go through what Slim has had to go through. It’s not that Slim has done his best, because he really hasn’t, but he’s survived. Coming out of a world like that unscathed or perfectly stable would be impossible. But Slim has come out of his world supportive and strong. He’s the best friend someone like Papyrus could have ever asked for.

And if Papyrus sometimes has to watch where he steps? Choose his words carefully and check the other’s reaction to what he does say? It’s worth it. Being there for someone like Slim will always be worth it, and he wouldn’t give it up for the world.

Even that time when Slim had tried to stab him. It’d been awkward the next day, with Slim refusing to make eye contact. It hadn’t taken long for Papyrus to figure out that he didn’t really feel bad. He didn’t seem to regret the act of trying to stab someone. He just wished he hadn’t tried to hurt Papyrus. He seemed to think that Papyrus was going to stop being his friend. Sometimes Slim could be really stupid.

Slim is broken.

Razz has known that his brother isn’t quite right inside for most of their lives. Some of it is his fault, he has no doubts about that, but even when they were very small, Slim’d had something in his eyes that had always thrown Razz off. He couldn’t put a name to it at the time, but as they’d grown, he’d thought maybe it had been mischief. Nowadays, though, it was something altogether more dangerous.

He had never been… good. He had never been kind. Their world was unkind, all on its own, but Slim never made much of an effort to be different. Razz supposed he had himself to blame for that. He had set the worst kind of example. Who could expect someone who couldn’t even be motivated to pick up his laundry to take his world into his own hands?

Maybe he should have expected it.

Now that they were safe, though… Razz wasn’t sure. He still didn’t think that Slim was, in the sense he was used to, good. He didn’t think he was unselfish. But he could see him trying. More than anything in their lives, it seemed that Slim craved peace. Peace like this world was dangling in front of his nose, like was offered to him in every corner of this place, if only he could leave his memories behind.

Apparently, that was the difficult part. Leaving it behind. No matter how much he seemed to want it, he was fellverse through and through.

It made Razz feel better, though. It had been Razz that led them down their path, that had inspired his brother to be anything but good. It only made sense that Razz should get the opportunity to pave the way towards peace.

Let Slim follow again in his footsteps.

Slim is…

Looking at himself in the mirror.

His fingers are trembling, but he can’t remember when he last had a cigarette. The shaking doesn’t concern him at the moment. His gloves are ripped, just a little bit up near the top. That does kind of concern him. These were fuckin’ expensive, what the fuck.

He shrugs at his reflection. Shoots it some finger guns. Stuffs his hands in his pockets, then pulls them back out.

Wow, he thinks. This is a shitty mirror. It’s making that guy look like a dumbass. His mind is telling him it’s not the mirror’s fault. His heart kindly tells his mind to fuck off. His mind is more than a little confused about what’s talking to it, seeing as he doesn’t actually have a heart.

He snickers to himself, grinning at the reflection staring back at him. Then he turns around, grabs his coat off the bed, and leaves the room.

Razz had never been much of a singer. His voice was low and grating, not quite hitting the right notes no matter if he was trying or not. He guessed there was some amount of enjoyment in belting it out if he didn’t care how he sounded, but pride had always been his big fatal flaw.

Pride and anger. It used to seem like that was all he was good for.

Of course, singing hadn’t ever been much of a thought in Swapfell. For the most part, it just wasn’t part of the culture. There were a few nursery rhymes, passed down from generation to generation, sung by parents to soothe the fears of their children. But he’d been in Underswap long enough now to explore the little things. Music was amazing, and being with Blue, especially, always ended up with him finding something new to enjoy.

“Lavender’s blue, dilly, dilly, lavender’s green…”

The sound of Blue’s voice, when he sang, had been rich and deep. He’d had this lilt to his speaking voice that had lended itself well to the music. Stretch had a gorgeous voice, rising and falling and hitting the notes and making your jaw drop that something like that could be coming out of someone like him, but Blue had a beauty all his own. Part of that was due to his enthusiasm, screaming out lyrics as he bounced to a beat, but it was to be admired even in his quiet moments.

Once, at some party at Alphys’, he’d been standing on a balcony, watching the stars as he sang under his breath. He was barely loud enough to be heard, and the lyrics would have been impossible to understand if Razz hadn’t already heard them out of Blue’s mouth about a thousand times. Drink in his hand, hips swaying to his own imagined melody, he’d certainly painted his own peaceful picture.

“When I am king, dilly, dilly, you shall be queen…”

Then Razz had tripped over the balcony’s threshold, swearing loudly and breaking the spell. Blue had laughed good-naturedly and helped him up, eyes flashing with warmth. Razz had been sure he would never experience anything so beautiful again.

But, of course, Blue seemed to make it his life’s mission to surprise him.

They never really got around to getting formally married. That would have required Stretch’s blessing, Slim’s agreement. Family was important in Underswap, and with as little as their brothers seemed to approve of it all, it just didn’t seem worth it. There were enough quiet nights, closed eyes and bonded souls, that no one, not even their little brothers, could deny what was right in front of their faces.

Blue and Razz didn’t need anything so formal for it to be clear who they would spend the rest of their lives with.

“Who told you so, dilly dilly, who told you so?”

Razz could still hear it, the sound of Blue’s voice ringing through the house. He’d walked into the kitchen, one afternoon four months ago, to find and appreciate the source of the music. Blue had been standing at the kitchen sink, doing the dishes. When he saw that Razz had entered, he’d smiled that beautiful smile, and Razz’s soul had just soared.

Blue was beautiful. He always had been. His voice, his eyes, his endless enthusiasm. Razz had never had anything like this, and even on the bad days, the days of silence and tears, Blue was everything. He was so much everything that Razz didn’t think he would ever understand it. And when Razz stepped forward that day, circling his arms around Blue’s waist and realizing that he couldn’t feel the bones past the ecto something that was summoned there, he thought that Blue had already given him everything.

“Twas mine own heart, dilly, dilly, that told me so.”

There had been shock, then doubt. Then, to his own immense surprise, there had been joy.

The LV12 former Captain of the Royal Guard, Personal Assassin to Her Majesty the Queen, was having a child. Being given a child. Blue had given him so many gifts already, so much kindness and love that it had just seemed to good to be true.

He… he really should have known that it was too good to be true.

He should have known.

Blue had such a large presence that it was easy to forget how physically small he was. How much magic was running through bones that, despite Blue’s avid protests, were childlike themselves in their size. Razz wasn’t a biologist, but it seemed obvious in hindsight. It made sense that having such an imbalance might have affected the way his pregnancy worked.

Logic may have been telling him, now, what went wrong. But it was too late. Logic could tell him whatever it wanted, but the dust pooled at Razz’s side, the blood coating his arms and shirt, was telling him that it was far too late to change any of it.

Blue loved to sing. Full of life, hope, laughter. He’d always hoped for Razz. Loved him, more than he deserved.

Razz loved Blue so much.

She looked just like him. Her eyes were bright and blue, her soul sparking, a smile formed on her face when she had first come into being. Her bones were small, too, but Razz was pretty sure that was more on account of the fact that she had been born so early. Far, far too early. He could see her magic trying to pulse through her, soul swelling as it failed to create the magic she needed to survive.

There was dust softly shimmering on her tiny ribcage. He wiped one shaking hand on the sheets, used a finger to brush away the dust. She wasn’t smiling anymore. He held her to his chest, drew his knees up, felt Blue’s dust shift in the bed beneath him. She was almost too tiny to be held like this. He didn’t care.

She whimpered, and his soul opened, pouring his magic into her. Anything he could spare, everything he couldn’t. Her soul didn’t look formed enough to absorb it. They hadn’t even given her a name yet.

Razz’s magic flowed into the dark air, surrounding them with purple light and glittering off of the dust covering it all. She started to cry.

It was a heartbroken sound, and tears filled Razz’s eyes as he heard it. God, it had all happened so fast. Blue was sick, a cold or something small, but his magic had been working hard to heal him, and he’d been exhausted. With much coaxing and threats, he’d been convinced to lay in bed and rest. Razz’s head had been on his chest, legs hanging haphazardly from the side of the bed as he read from a certain well-known book about a bunny, Blue laughing at the various silly voices Razz was directing as their unborn daughter.

When Stretch had found out about the kid, he’d immediately gone to a back room, sending what sounded like an entire country crashing to the floor before coming back with the book, all smiles as he handed it to Razz. It’d really been the only smile he’d ever given his brother’s soulmate.

God, he hadn’t even had a chance to call him, before it’d happened. Would things have been different, if he’d known? If he’d been there? What was he going to tell--

The baby was wailing now, and Razz’s shoulders shook alongside her, crying silently as the grief broke through the shell-shocked horror. He knew he had to do something, comfort her, anything. He was supposed to be her father, wasn’t he? And even if Blue had been the gentle one, the comforting one…

Well, Blue was gone.

“Los pollitos dicen pio, pio, pio…”

His voice came out stuttering and shattered, but still somehow audible. Carefully, he cradled his child, rocking back and forth in an attempt to calm her. Held close to his body like this, wrapped in his arms, he hoped she was warm. He couldn’t bring himself to leave her long enough to find something to wrap her in.

“Cuando t-tienen hambre, cuando tienen f-frio…”

Razz remembered singing this to Slim, to comfort him when he was scared. He remembered it being sung to him, too, but only vaguely. Gaster had certainly never sung it. He deemed nursery rhymes to be too common for his wards, even if he treated them no better than dogs. But a simple song had been all Razz’d had on those cold, dark days, just the two of them against the world.

“La g-gallina busca el maiz y el trigo…”

Her cries were growing weaker, the little fist that he hadn’t even realized was curled around his finger loosening. She blinked up at him, blue eyes making his soul clench.

“B-bajo de sus a las, a-acurrucaditos…”

She was so small. So still. Silent. His voice fell away, and then he held nothing but dust. Shaking hands rose to his face, pressed to his sockets. The most he could manage was a whisper.

“D-duermen… l-l-los pollitos--”

“Until tomorrow.”

Razz sobbed as he heard Blue’s voice, felt an arm circling his shoulders. He didn’t look up, knew he’d be gone if he did.

“Or is it ‘until the next day?’ You told me once, but I can never remember. How does the song go?”

“Hasta el otro d-dia,” Razz whispered. A hand cupped his face, tilted it up until he was looking into bright blue eyes. He didn’t need to look down to see their child held tightly in Blue’s free arm, to hear her giggling.

Blue wiped under Razz’s socket with a thumb, pressed a kiss to his temple. “‘Until the next day’ it is, then. What do you think?” His hand dropped to grab Razz’s, lifting him up to stand.

~~~

Tick…tock…

Sans was rubbing his hands together, the repetitive motion drawing Papyrus’s eye for a split second. He looked away, huffing as he set glasses of water in front of the other occupants of the room before taking his own seat.

Tick...tock…

His brother’s red-eyed alternate had his arms tightly folded across his chest, not so much glaring at anything in particular as he seemed to be just kind of...glaring. He was fidgeting as well, though at least his shaking knee wasn’t making the same scraping noise of bone on bone that Sans was.

Tick…

The other version of Papyrus, however, was impossibly still, staring between the softer brothers as though expecting one of them to explode into a million pieces.

Tock…

“Okay!” Papyrus shot to his feet, hovering awkwardly for half a second before plopping directly back into his seat, glaring sternly at the copies of he and his brother that were sitting on his couch. They both turned to stare at him, and he sighed loudly, taking the angriest sip of water he could manage before returning to his glaring. “Where did you come from, exactly?!”

Fell, as he had introduced himself, snorted quietly, shifting to throw one leg over the other. “Hell.”

Papyrus sighed. He had hoped that, being another version of him, some measure of class might be shown. Apparently, he had been wrong.

“You laugh,” Red grumbled at Sans’ snickering, “But it’s true. What do you know about multiverse theory?”

Fell stood suddenly, armor gleaming in the living room lights as he straightened the cloth of his scarf. “I will be outside.”

“No, Fell. Sit down,” Red said, a light of exasperation coming into his eyes.

“Must we go over this for the thousandth time? Really?”

“Sit down.”

Papyrus blinked in shock at the tone, narrowing his eyes as Fell growled under his breath. Then, to his immense surprise, he returned to his seat, glaring down at the carpet. Red turned back to Sans and Papyrus. “Well? Multiverse theory?”

Sans spoke up haltingly, eyes darting between the other set of skeletons. “Any one of an infinite number of possibilities could become--”

“There’s a bunch of alternate universes, many versions of Sanses and Papyruses in a huge variety of worlds. We come from one where everyone is pissed, apparently, in comparison to yours.” Fell’s voice was monotone, but his eyelights were sharp, focused directly into an unasssuming darker spot on the coffee table. Sans closed his mouth slowly as Red sighed, reaching up to rub his forehead.

“Uh… yeah. That… that sounds…”

“Well, it was meant to be broken a bit more gently, but you get the idea,” Red grumbled, fixing Fell with a glare. “I’ve been doing some exploring, finding out how other worlds work, and someone asked to come with me before immediately breaking the machine.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake! It was an accident!”

“I told you not to touch the wiring! You just have no idea how to listen!”

“Who’s fault is that?!”

“Oh, who am I, your parent?”

“I refuse to laugh at your jokes, father. I simply and absolutely refuse.”

Papyrus blinks in the same moment that Sans sits up ramrod straight. There’s panic in his eyes as the other two fall silence, attention shifting from their bickering to their hosts.

“... ‘Father’?” he asks, and Red raises a brow.

“Yes? Fell’s my son--”

“Unfortunately.”

“--Just like the two of you.” He leans back on the cushion grinning amusedly to himself. “I was actually in a universe two weeks back that had a Papyrus as the father, and his son was a Sans. Now that was a bit of a--”

“Sans isn’t my dad!” Papyrus laughed, leaning against the arm of the couch. He didn’t notice the way that Fell’s brows were suddenly creeping up his face, eyelights focused perfectly on Sans. “He raised me, sure, but he’s my brother!”

The room went absolutely silent, Red staring at him in shock for a moment before he turned to face his alternate. “Brothers, huh?”

“Yes!” Papyrus faltered as he noticed the look on Sans’ face. “Yes, we are… Sans, are you okay?”

Sans nodded, rapidly at first and then more slowly as he seemed to realize how suspicious he looked. “Just fine, bro! Weird, huh, those universal differences! Hey Papyrus, would you mind grabbing some more water, it looks like Fell’s glass is getting--”

“Why are you lying to him?”

Red’s voice was even, more laden with curiosity than anger, but Papyrus could still see the emotion hidden deep in his eyelights. Slowly, he leaned back in his seat, gaze shifting quickly between his brother and Red.

There was… there was no way, was there? There was no way that even made sense…

“I’m not!”

But...there was the edge of a lie in Sans’ voice. By the looks on the others’ faces, it was obvious to them, too. Why would he…

Sans glanced at him, then back to Red. With a surge of magic, he disappeared from his seat on the couch. Papyrus recognized the reaction from the years they’d spent together, years of Papyrus needing to be able to predict when Sans was about to disappear, to predict where he was going to run away to this time. He would never leave Papyrus in danger. Never. But for someone like Sans, the ability to run away was absolutely priceless.

“Are you okay?”

He looked up to see the other two peering at him concernedly. He blinked, once, twice, three times. Then he shrugged.

The Undying - Drunk Enough to Say that I Love You - PLVTINUM

“Sans, are you okay?”

He laughed, teeth gritted and fists clenched. He was shaking again, she noticed. “Yup. Just fuckin’ peachy, Sparks.”

Undyne sighed as she reached out, awkwardly smacking his arm. “I’ve told you not to call me that.”

“Then stop being so goddamn fiery.”

She gave him a look, and he let out a semi-hysterical laugh. She sighed again, and his face fell, hands relaxing for a moment before he buried his face in them, murmuring unintelligibly. Undyne watched him for a moment, then drew in a breath, glancing towards the door to the servant’s quarters. “I might be able to scrounge something up from Grillby, if you’d like me to try.

He shook his head quickly. “Nah… I don’t want you gettin’ in trouble for my dumb ass again.”

She was quiet for a few minutes before she replied, “It’s not your fault.”

“...I know.”

Devoid - Heaven - Dalton Rapattoni

The only thing Red could think about, in those final moments, were how lucky he was, to have Sans by his side until the very end. His life had been so...lackluster, filled with pain and regret, until he’d met the other.

He counted himself lucky that he’d never have to live without him, and that Sans would never have to, either. Constantia would be fine, she would be happy. Their brothers would move on, find their happiness.

And he and Sans would be together.

He pulled the other closer, feeling him shift in his arms. As close as they were wrapped up in each other, it was going to be impossible to tell whose dust was whose. But that was for the best, really.

It only seemed to fit.

UnderAuthor - Cry - Carly Rae Jepsen

“So you just...you see the possibilities?” Sans was looking at him earnestly, and Author sighed as he nodded.

“Yes. I see what could have been, if a different decision had been made, if your physiology or your height was just slightly different. I see the scenes that play out, your levels, and if you’re the subject, I recieve your stream of consiousness.”

Blue hummed. “You must have seen us doing some strange things.”

“You would not believe the amount of times I’ve seen the lot of you having--” Author cut himself off as Red snickered, and he glared at him.

“Have I ever done anything really bad?” Blue asked, and Author shot him a look.

“You would know if you’ve done anything bad. The episodes, the Notes...they aren’t things that have actually happened. They only could have. I’ve explained this.”

“Do bad things happen in them more often than here?” Stretch asked curiously, and Author didn’t hesitate to nod.

“None of you would believe the things you would have been capable of, had things been different.”

Gay As Hell - Lose My Number - James Blundt

“Truth or Dare?”

Sans groaned loudly as Blue giggled, kicking his feet in the air. Sans shot him a glare before turning his attention back to Red and saying, “I’m not fucking playing this game with you.”

“Watch your language, Sans!”

Red just grinned. “Truth or Dare, Sans? Truth or Dare? Dare? Truth? Truth? Da--”

“Fine!” Sans shouted, prompting another round of laughter from Blue. “Truth!”

“Who do you like?”

Sans immediately turned bright blue, scoffing loudly and obviously as he rolled over and away from the two of them. “I’m sorry, Red, are we in middle school? What kind of uncreative--”

“So you do like someone!!” Blue shouted, jumping to his feet with a shout of victory. “Who is it?!”

Perceptions - My Heart Goes Bum Bum Bum - Flatsound

Red was surprised to see the other’s eyes soften as he looked at his little brother, the contrast from the first meeting with Stretch hitting him hard. Comic crossed the room and crouched next to Fell, looking at the book of mazes he was steadily working his way through. There was a moment of comfortable silence, then Red heard Comic say, “I really like your battle armor. It's the coolest.”

Fell looked up, his genuine smile practically lighting up the room. “Sans did. He is cool...I am…” he seemed to be searching for words.

Comic grinned over at him. “The coolest?” He supplied helpfully, and Fell laughed quietly.

Red had to turn his back to the scene before his brother could see the tears that were beginning to fill his eyes.

The Grass is Always Greener - If You’re Gonna Leave - PLVTINUM

“Does it ever get lonely?”

Red looked up, surprised to see Sans sitting at his side. He must have drifted off or something, not having noticed the other’s approach whatsoever. “What?”

Sans glanced over at him, and Red became aware of the sounds of Blue and Papyrus talking loudly in the kitchen. He resisted the urge to shake his head fondly.

“The resets. Do they get lonely?”

Raising a brow, Red suppressed a humorless smile. “Yeah. Here and there.”

Sans nodded. “Yeah… I’m… I’m glad I’m not the only one. I guess a lot of the others have had the same thing but I just… it isn’t the same. I can’t really talk to them.”

“But you can talk to me?”

“Well, duh,” said Sans, cheeks going blue as he fiddled with the hem of his jacket. “You’re my best friend.”

What?

Red just stared at him for a moment, fighting off surprise and denial. Sans was refusing to look at him, but after a moment, he glanced sideways, catching Red’s eyes. In response, Red grinned widely. “I’d be careful sayin’ that shit. I bite, y’know.”

Sans snorted. “Oh, believe me. I’m all too aware.”

Believe in Me - Perfect - Ed Sheeran

Red smiled, hands settled on the sides of Blue’s hips as the others were wrapped around his neck. Blue was grinning up at him, eyelights in the shape of hearts, and Red resisted the urge to lean down and kiss him (again). He could feel the beat of the other’s soul where their chests were pressed so closely together, and he felt his own skip a beat.

The music played softly over them, and while Red knew there was a crowd gathered around the two of them, watching them during their first dance, he couldn’t have cared less. All he wanted to see, all he wanted to take in?

Well, it was right here in front of him.

Blue was everything he ever could have wished for. He was everything right in the world, the worlds, even. He was the reason Red wanted to live, he was… well, he was his happiness. And how could he help that? Someone as bright as Blue, loving someone like Red?

He would never be able to even imagine how he came to be so lucky.

Roommate Bros - Flame - Tinashe

Lust grinned across the table, eyebrows waggling impressively. Fell was doing a truly amazing job in his attempt to ignore him, but honestly, they all knew it would never last.

As loudly as he could manage, Lust pushed his chair back, standing quickly to cross the room and stand just behind Fell. The other completely disregarded his existence, continuing to prepare dinner.

“Hey, edgelord.”

No reaction. Not even a twitch.

Lust cleared his throat. “Hey, your highness?”

It was almost impressive, the amount of resolve it must be taking to pretend he wasn’t hilarious. He’d been making puns for almost an hour now and he hadn’t been strangled yet. It was truly amazing.

“What’ll happen if I make another pun, but like… right by your face?”

Finally, Fell turned, hands pausing in their preparations to regard his roommate with something akin to disgust. “You’ll be royally fucked.”

A Night Off and a Dress - If I’m Lucky - Jason Derulo

“Hey, Cer?”

He looked to the side, smiling as he saw Carmine standing in the doorway. The smile faded, however, as the other fidgeted uncomfortably, something obviously on his mind. Quickly, Cer stood, gesturing him into their shared room in the servant’s quarters and closing the door behind him. “Are you okay?”

Carmine just stared at him for a moment, then his eyes dropped, and he collapsed down to sit on his bed, head in his hands. “I… uh… I may have fucked a member of the royal family.”

There was a pause.

“Wow,” said Cer. “That’s… illegal. Yeah. Sheesh. How dare you.”

“Thanks. That’s real helpful, assho--”

“No, I mean it,” said Cer again. He shifted his stance, arms hovering for a moment before settling on his hips in what he hoped was a reprimanding manner. “You are just… not allowed.”

Carmine stared up at his friend for about a full minute.

“Well, at least we’ll get executed together, I guess.”

Perseverance - Verge - Owl City

“Do you guys want to go see a movie?”

Sans looked up at the excited voice right next to his ear, blinking blearily until Blue’s face came into focus. He could feel Red stirring beside him, turning to press his face into his pillow.

Blue’s face fell as Sans groaned, then he grinned again as his arm came out of the blankets, reaching for where his phone was lying on the nightstand.

“Blue, it’s five am. Why are you even awake?”

“I wasn’t tired!” came the answer, and Sans turned to regard him doubtfully. Red seemed to be waking up more, reaching up to rub at his eyelights. Blue grinned hopefully at them both, and Sans sighed tiredly.

“I don’t think the movies is open yet, sweetheart.”

Blue rolled his eyes. “Well, obviously. I meant this afternoon! Since I have the day off today and I know you get off early! And we could go have breakfast for right now?”

Damn it. He looked so fucking hopeful.

Ignoring Red’s mumbled protests, Sans threw back the blanket, forcing himself to sit up. Blue’s eyelights brightened, and a huge smile bloomed across his face. It was contagious, even with how much Sans truly wanted to lay back down and go the fuck to sleep until a more reasonable hour.

“Breakfast sounds great. I have to warn you, I might use pancakes as a pillow.”

Unimaginable - Quiet Uptown - Kelly Clarkson

Blue’s hands were shaking, and he couldn’t seem to get them to stop. He clenched his fists tightly at his sides, under the blankets. That worked for a few minutes, but then his whole body started to tremble.

He drew his knees up to his chest, holding his breath and squeezing his eyes shut for about a split second before the popped back open, surveying the room. He had to know he was alone, he had to know that… that Stretch….

He rolled over, clenching his teeth and bringing his now-unclenched fingers up to his eyes. Rubbing carefully at the bone, he stifled a sob. He’d never felt so small, so helpless. He-- he couldn’t even fall asleep. Who knows what could happen if he did?

The house was absolutely silent, not even the ticking of the kitchen clock cutting through the tension in the air. Blue kept his eyes open wide, staring at the worn cloth of the couch in an effort to stay awake.

God, this had to be a mistake. There had to be some explanation, Stretch would never-- he was his brother, for Toriel’s sake, he wouldn’t--

Blue clenched his fists again. He didn’t like it when his fingers shook.

Discrete Trials - Ink - Coldplay

Fell watched doubtfully as Blue scaled the fence, pushing himself up and over the top before jumping down to land on the other side.

“This is stupid, and we’re going to get caught.”

Blue turned back to make a face at the other, putting his hands on his hips. “I’ll have you know that the Magnificent Blue never gets caught!”

“...Sure. So what are we going to tell Slim when he catches us?” Fell asked, pulling himself up and over the fence and landing lightly beside his stepbrother. He glanced around the garden, taking in the semi-overgrown shrubbery and impeccable lawn furniture. Slim certainly had his priorities.

“It’s Razz’s Sweet 16! I’m sure he’d be fiiiiiiiiine,” Blue said, grinning.

Fell just stared at him for a moment in disbelief. “Razz is fucking 17 years old, you idiot.”

Blue just laughed, dropping into a crouch and humming under his breath before scampering forward across the lawn. Fell stood there frozen as he went, then stage-whispered, “Are you humming the Mission Impo--”

“Shhhhhhh!”

Carefully and quietly, Blue eased the unlocked back door open, stepping into the laundry room and holding the door open for Fell. He gestured for the other to follow him down the hallway, then dropped back into a crouch. Fell rolled his eyes before complying, walking like a normal monster instead of an idiot who watched too many James--

The light flicked on, and they both froze, staring at the worn couch in the corner, currently holding a grinning Slim and his slightly more disapproving brother.

“So, boys,” Slim started, shifting in his seat as Razz crossed his arms, attempting to look disapproving. “I’m disappointed in you.”

Blue straightened up to stand, shamefaced, but Slim continued before either of them could apologize.

“Razz’s birthday started an entire two minutes ago. You are so late.”

Pain Game - Fuck Boy - Apashe

“I’ll kill you!” Red screamed, tugging desperately at his bonds, trying not to sob.

Blue didn’t even flinch, raising his knife until it pressed up on the bottom of Sans’ chin. Sans was gripping onto the arms of his chair, shivering in his attempt to keep still.

Red watched him, choking back a cry as he watched beads of marrow rise to the surface of the bone. Sans’ face stayed impassive, but he could see the pain in his eyelights, could feel it trickling past the barriers he had put around his soul.

“Blue, you fucking let him go! Don’t-- d-don’t--” His voice broke as Sans let out a gasp of pain, eyes flickering to his partners. They were filled with desperation, and as much as Red wished otherwise, he knew what Sans was asking of him.

But Sans had to know how impossible it was to--

Hanging his head, Red went still. He squeezed his eyes shut.

He just… he couldn’t watch this.

Taste of Silver, Taste of Gold - Autoerotique - Badman

Blue is gorgeous when he's covered in ashes, screams ringing out because of him, the blood of their enemies pooled around his feet. His eyes glimmer with bloodlust as they turn to meet Razz’s, and he grins as he shifts his feet, planting them solidly and raising the barrel of his gun up to his mouth like a candle before breathing out a stream of air over the smoke.

Razz laughs, cocking out a hip and letting the summoned bone construct he holds fall back to rest on one shoulder. Blue snorts, turning back to face the doors of the shop.

They can hear more sirens in the distance, but they're far off, and it would be easy to grab the prize and run, leaving behind the broken bodies of those who have already tried to stop them.

But as Blue fixes himself in front of the door, Razz steps forward, looping his fingers under the hem of his leather jacket and tugging him close enough so that he can press his tongue into his mouth, swallowing the other’s groan and feeling his hand curl tightly into the cloth of his shirt. Then they broke apart, but never thought to step away. It would be easy, just to leave.

But that would just be no fun at all.

String Theory - Breathe - Lauv

It really surprised the skeletons; how much their beliefs differed. Different undergrounds believed in entirely different paths; entirely different ends and beginnings and reasons for life. Humans would call it religion, but there was no belief in a higher power; only in themselves, and their creation from dust, and their eventual end, returning to the ground from which they came.

For no matter the universe, no matter the underground, there was no belief in an afterlife.

You returned to the ground, and that was it. Your life was over, and you were dust. Your dust was spread over something you valued, but it was symbolic; a memory for those you had left behind.

So even though Stretch held his brother’s dust, covering the blanket he himself had been wrapped in in so many photos from their childhood, it was only in memorial. Blue himself was not there, he was never going to be there, and Stretch was never going to see him again. There was no heaven, there was no hell, there was no deliberation about which Blue would have gone to; if such things existed.

And that was it. He was gone.

The three exceptions to my hiatus will be Taste of Silver because I adore that fic and wouldn’t stop working on it for the world, then a collab with a certain wonderful artist that I really need to finish my part for, and the prize for the writing contest!

Once I come off of hiatus, I will be forcing my multichap fic schedule down to once a week. You can still expect things like cosos and ST extras to get randomly updated after hiatus, and I will likely keep working on Taste of Silver with Ollie and just publishing upon chapter completion , but it will otherwise be just once a week.