#post truce

Familyverse (My Main AU) Post-Truce Timeline

"Do you want to find out, Night?"

When the fanfic ideas hit. This one is a Undertale Multiverse one. The bad sans' in a post Truce world rescue Maeve a Fae monster. She is from an offshoot of Dusttale and this story was part of OG Dust's origin. Being his wife, her death and erasure from his timeline started his descent into madness. Her timeline was destroyed by Error but Error warned the Bad Sans' before hand so they could take her away. Her timeline ended with only her remaining.

She is brought to the manor and lives with the Bad Sanses. She is also three months pregnant at time of rescue. The Bad Sans' (Dust, Horror, Killer and Nightmare) are a polycule and have been together for fifty years. They are all nigh immortal due to Nightmares magic.

Nightmare is the Lord of the manor and acts very noble like. (He is the same person the corruption only changed his form) He sees it as his honor and duty to tend to Maeve. He is honestly a push over when it comes to her.

Dust is her main confidant at first due to their shared life experiences. Dust still deals with the trauma of his past but strives to help lift Maeve up. Is also a big push over for Maeve and will cater to her.

Horror and Maeve grow close due to their shared love of cooking and caring nature's. They spend time cooking and Maeve teaches Horror to bake. Both see feeding others as a sign of great affection.

The searing pain throughout her fingers did not abate despite the force with which Moon clung to Toffee. Monstrous screeches and roars rung about her ears, making the silence ring out in distressing waves as Toffee walked them through familiar hallways towards their quarters. She had walked such hallways weeks prior as a different woman to what she felt now. Now, despite the familiar faces, assurances of safety and warmth, the trauma did not feel as though it were over. How could one merely switch off the events of the past week? They plagued her, robbing her of all thoughts of security and calm as though at any second a long rake-like hand would rise from the depths to claim her once more.

He had been her friend.

A far greater friend than the man who held her now.

…Or so she had thought.

That was not true anymore.

Now that it was safe to cry, it seemed she could scarcely stop. Sobs of mingled relief, shock and terror sounded from Moon in a hoarse cry that felt far from her own. Her hair remained windswept and ragged, tainted by slick touches and the thick salt of sea air. Pale flesh revealed myriads of purples and blues, each speaking a different story of the cruel treatment that had befallen her. With great care she found herself being lowered from the arms that sheltered her from further harm. Instinctively, Moon found herself struggling to loosen the grip she managed on his clothing, exacerbated only by the agonizing pain that came with unclenching her icy, broken hand. A sharp inhale of breath cut through a sob as throbbing pain worked its way back into her fingers with the help of the nearby fire in the hearth.

Slowly, as if becoming aware of the distinctly ravaged condition of her dress, Moon pulled the blanket a little tighter around herself. Despite its warmth, the fire and the lack of northern winds she could not stop shivering.

“All right now, Moonlight,”

The soft address was enough to coax the queen’s feral gaze up to Toffee. Tears continued to paint her cheeks whilst sobs hitched and stole away at her breath too much for words to break through.

She half expected to awaken to the rumble of the wechuge’s affections against her neck. In a sickening moment, Moon closed her eyes as though attempting to verify such a thought. In the brief moment of darkness that came with such efforts, the room began to sway with the motion of sea waters. Her body would not soon forget the shifting underfoot she had grown so used to. A nauseous colour soon found Moon’s cheeks. In a grim haze she opened her eyes once more.

“Just breathe. Deep breaths. You’re home now, it’s over. You can let go.”

It was easier said than done. The severity with which her panic had taken hold made reaching the same calm that permeated Toffee’s voice seem utterly impossible. For a long while she sat quivering and unmoving from where she wrapped her arms about herself beneath the blanket. After time the throbbing about her hand and soothing warmth was enough to steal the sobs away into something less frantic. Quickened, shallow breaths continued to sound from her as tears flowed, albeit with a degree more exhaustion too as they succumbed into the hollow, quieter territory of shock.

There was too much to take in. Too much to comprehend after such a stifling and restrictive outlook Kalgor’s plan had enforced upon her. She had assumed Toffee dead- the kingdom ransacked and taken, but here everything all stood. Desperate eyes lifted to Toffee once more, searching for an answer. A justification. Anything that would make such time feel as though it had been utterly necessary.

He looked alright. Although, what did that truly say? He could have been torn apart mere minutes prior to her rescue and his regeneration would leave her none the wiser.

Agitation continued to make its home within her breaths- gasping and quick at the panic her body lacked the ability to handle after another drastic change to her circumstances. Exhaustion, fear and paranoia all mingled to make even the rescue into a situation of the greatest dread.