Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The double doors to Nightmare's study slammed open with a thunderous crack, rattling the various knick-knacks settled about his desk.

"i'Ll F-fU- FU- FuCkIng kILl hiM!"

Nightmare didn't look up from his paperwork, already passively feeding off of Error's lavish amounts of irritation. "Ink, I presume?"

Error stormed across the room, strings crackling around his phalanges, taut and fiery in his fury. "ThAT Pa- pA- PAinT-SnIFfiNG, m- mU- MUltIVer- vErsE-FucKInG, UNkIlLabLE-"

"Breathe, darling." Nightmare finally set down his feather pen, tentacles unfurling in a slow, sinuous motion. "Before you send yourself into a crash."

The Destroyer's answer was a thunderous snarl, lashing a collection of strings out against the wall, which bore a shallow and slightly burnt gash through the drywall.

Nightmare knew the damage would repair itself before the day was through, but he still couldn't help but huff in superficial displeasure.

"hE fOlLoWEd ME aCROsS sIX AUS! SiX!!! ANd wHEn i FiNAlLy tOLd hIM TO fUCk OfF, hE WAs aCTiNg As iF I WAS tHe oNE bEinG a P- p- PEsT!"

"Typical." Nightmare rose, casually approaching his fuming lover with predatory grace. "It's not unexpected given his limited brain capacity."

"AnD tHEN hE cAlLeD HiS sTAr bUdDiEs oN ME!" Error continued to shriek, stomping his feet petulantly like a child having a temper tantrum.

"hOW DaRe tHAt fU- fUCkINg sQuid!!! dO YoU kNOw tHe sHIt THey wErE SaYinG to mE?!" Error’s voice hit a frequency that shattered the stained-glass window behind Nightmare’s desk. Glass rained down like jagged confetti as the Destroyer vibrated with rage.

At least, until Nightmare swept in, curling around his lover with a tendril sliding up the back of his peacoat.

"Shhh." The spirit pressed a claw to Error's teeth, silencing him with a cloying purr. "Enough with that now, my dear. No need to fret yourself with something so beneath you... I'll handle it," Nightmare crooned with a honeyed growl.

Error's glitches stuttered, static crawling up his arms. "wH- WhA...?" The Destroyer trailed off, narrowing his eyes suspiciously as Nightmare not-so subtly pulled Error flush against him until their chests pressed together.

"n- nO. tHE sQuID's mY nEmESiS, i'Ll tAkE cARe OF hiM mYsElF," Error snapped stubbornly, weakly trying to push back against the corruption saddling all around his waist.

"Oh?" Nightmare’s voice dripped with amusement, tendrils tightening possessively. "And how’s that working out for you, love?" He looped his arms around Error's shoulders, hooking him back in.

"i'M-! tHaT's-!"

"Exactly." Nightmare’s smirk was downright smug as he leaned in, breath ghosting over Error’s teeth. "Let me spoil you, my queen..." A claw traced the seam of Error’s jaw. "I’ll make sure he never touches what’s mine again."

Error's breath hitched, a frayed hiss rattling from his ribcage. "i'M nOt yOuR pROpeRtY yoU sTuPId oCt-!"

The protest died in a staticky choke as Nightmare's teeth grazed his cervical vertebrae.

"Of course not, Destroyer," Nightmare purred, more tendrils beginning to crowd under Error's shirt. "Who said anything about property?"

Nightmare’s voice dropped to a velvet growl as his tendrils mapped the dip of Error’s spine. "I’m merely suggesting I remind the multiverse why my mighty, clever queen should be respected."

Error paused, and Nightmare had to hide his devilish grin as Error's intent perked upon the stroke to his ego.

"H- hEh... tHaT's RiGHt! I dO dEseRVe rESpECt!"

"Mhm. And Ink doesn’t." Nightmare slowly backed him against the desk, voice dripping with sultry intent. "Imagine- that clown thinking he’s your equal."

Error laughed mean-spiritedly at Ink's expense, humming along indulgently. "rIGhT??? I'M sO muCh bEtTer tHaN tHAt sQUid!"

"Pathetic of him, really," Nightmare agreed, nuzzling into his lover's temple. "He doesn't deserve your time."

"wElL... wHen yOu pUt iT tHaT wAy..." The Destroyer preened under the attention, though he tried to hide it behind a scoff.

Nightmare's smirk grew as he felt Error's resistance crumbling. He pressed closer, his voice a dark whisper against Error's ear canal as he slowly lowered the distracted skeleton upon his desk. 

"Let me take care of it, my love," he murmured, nipping a path down the curve of Error's jaw, tendrils slowly prying apart buttons and pushing up fabric to unveil red-hot ribs and vertebrae. "While you relax, me and the boys can go punish the artist for his imprudence. I'll even bring you his radius as a trophy."

Error's eyelights glittered with interest at the prospect, and Nightmare knew he had him.

"MmM..." The glitch pretended to think about it, hands curling lazily around Nightmare's back. "wElL, iF yOu'Re bEgGiNg mE sO nIcElY..."

Nightmare's chuckle was dark as he surged down to claim his beloved.

The kiss was all teeth and staticky desperation, Error's lingering vexation all but fizzling away as Nightmare began to pet down the Destroyer's body.

When they parted, Error's face was glowing with something more than frustration. It was a softer, wanton expression that the spirit had come to recognize well. One that he had no qualms in acting out upon.

Which he did. Quite thoroughly, in fact; making sure to remind himself to give Ink one hell of a time for granting him such a pent-up, needy glitch.

Somewhere in the Doodle Sphere, Ink sneezed violently.

Chapter Text

The throne room smelled of incense and iron, the banners of Dream’s empire hanging where foreign colors had burned. He held his head high as his advisor announced the victors’ to step forth for their boons.

"Red of the Crimson Battalion," Dream began, eyeing the scarred soldier kneeling before him with straight-laced indifference. "For your valor, I grant you Lordship- and Classic’s land as well as his hand in marriage."

Murmurs rippled through the court. Classic, the captured aristocrat, stiffened with visible woe- though Dream could feel the joy betraying his charade beating from within his chest.

Dream was more than happy to grant these two a well-deserved happy ending.

Red grinned knowingly, though others in the room who were ignorant of the truth likely only saw a boorish peasant taking more than he deserved. "...I’ll give ‘im a dozen heirs, Your Grace."

Dream smirked, prim and polished of all tells as he felt Classic fluster heatedly at the statement. "See that you do."

Next came Epic, the tactician, who bowed with a scholar’s grace.

"The enemy’s royal archives; may their secrets serve us better than they served them," Dream declared, ignoring the way Epic nearly vibrated with scholarly delight.

Cross, his childhood friend and most loyal knight, received a marquisate within Nightmare’s domain- and a private note to deliver certain prisoners to his twin brother.

Sci, whose brilliant mind had saved countless lives, was given the fallen kingdom’s technology. "Turn their tools toward peace," Dream urged, chuckling as Sci immediately began muttering equations.

Then the prisoners were dragged in. Two of them standing far out above the sea of ashen faces, sunken and gnawed with defeat and the fear it weighed upon their souls. But not these two. Their faces were still youthful and dignified, life had not weighed heavy upon them yet- nor had they even spared a thought to giving it away.

Dream had heard how prince Ink had sacrificed his own soul in a bid to win the final battle. Exchanging the precious bundle - the culmination of all he was in this earthly realm - for power rarely seen in those who walked the path of mortals.

And yet, despite the breath of life no longer filling his breast, Ink was no less vibrant than the stories told. In fact, Dream would argue that the monster standing before him was more alive than any other in his court. Paint streaked Ink's cheekbones like war markings, his eyelights shimmering with colors and shapes no living being should possess.

He had no way of truly knowing if this was the same Ink who had entered this war, but...

Gazing upon him now, Dream was sure that given time, he'll walk the path of the divine.

And it seemed he was not the only one of this sentiment. Two steps behind him, held connected by their intertwined fingers, was a knight of noble rank who held his head high and unafraid in his bonds. The crest blazed upon his armor flagged him as the second-highest commanding officer of the fallen kingdom's forces: Sir Blue, the prince's betrothed and - if the reports were true - the only defender of Straughbalt's Fort. The feller of three hundred empire invaders.

Immediately, Dream knew he wanted them. The tender devotion shared through faith and affection.

"We should execute them," hissed the Duke. "Scatter their ashes to teach their people obedience."

Dream’s fingers tightened in his lap, knowing such displays of cruelty will only earn them the opposite.

Ink’s smile haunted the commoners’ ballads; Blue’s courage had inspired their peasantry to armies. To kill them would spark rebellion. And...

And Dream did not want to see the world robbed of such vivacity.

"To relieve them of their heads would inspire their people to martyrdom," he countered. The emperor rose, the hem of his robe brushing the dais steps as he descended. "But a crown upon their brows?" He stopped before Ink, close enough to see the way his eyelights blurred along their edges, shifting like mist along the shoreline. "That teaches surrender."

The court held its breath as Dream lifted Ink's chin with two fingers. Blue had looked on with anxiety seizing him, only squeezing his beloved's fingers tightly in reassurance.

"A political marriage," Dream announced. "Prince Ink and Sir Blue shall be my consorts. Their marriage to our crown will soothe the people’s unrest."

The court erupted.

Though the only two whose opinions did matter to him watched on with hope sighing up from the embers in their eyes, and that was all Dream needed to hold true.

By dawn, the court buzzed with the news: the king had claimed his prizes.

Cross departed with three shackled generals in tow, smirking at Dream’s well wishes of, "give my brother my regards."

Sci dismantled war machines, humming over blueprints.

Red hauled Classic theatrically over his shoulder, crowing obnoxiously about wedding preparations to smother his betrothed's chuckles.

And in the gardens, Dream watched his lovers-to-be marvel over the opulence around them, already making it beautiful with the glow of their shared wonder.

Conquest, he thought, has never once felt good before.

Not like this.

Chapter Text

(12:03 PM)

💙Blueberries💙:
HEY TO MY BEAUTIFUL, FANTASTIC,
ABSOLUTELY GLAMTASTIC
DATEMATES!! 🥳🥳🥳

I FINALLY BOOKED MY TRAIN TICKET
🎉🎉🎉

🌈 AcryllicsROverrated 🌈:

💗⭐🫶🥰❣️😻✨🦋

Ruru’s been stress-cleaning the apartment
for HOURS

he won’t admit it’s cuz he’s nervous

💣404Found💣:

SHUT UP

🌈 AcryllicsROverrated 🌈:

Uh oh, coochiegang mad 😔

💣404Found💣:

SHuT THE FUCK UP

i just don’t want ur nasty ass paint tubes
everywhere when BLUE sees how u actually
live

🌈 AcryllicsROverrated 🌈:

You live here too tho??? 🤨

💙Blueberries💙:

Awww ily2 Ruru 🥰🥰🥰

btw what do u guys even DO
for work?

u always dodge the question
👀👀👀

🌈 AcryllicsROverrated 🌈:

🎨🦋🌈🎼🥰🖌️🐶🎵

🕹️📺🤓👾🤖🤑🦐🎮

💙Blueberries💙:

I have no idea what any of that
means 😀😀😀

BUT IM SURE ITS GREAT!!! 😆😆😆

💣404Found💣:

God keep acting like that squid and I might just
hijack his train

🌈 AcryllicsROverrated 🌈:

But Ruru you don't know how to drive trains

OR CAN YOU 🫨😱🤯

HAVE YOU BEEN LYING TO ME THIS WHOLE TIME
RURU??? 😱😲🦹‍♂️🥲

💣404Found💣:

NO YOU IDIOT

WHO TF DRIVES TRAINS ANYMORE ANYWAY

WHAT I MEAN WAS THAT I'D HACK INTO THE
SYSTEM AND SEND IT SOMEWHERE FAR AWAY
FROM YOU

💙Blueberries💙:

😀😄😃

IS RURU...

A SECRET SPY??? 🕵️🕵️🕵️

🌈 AcryllicsROverrated 🌈:

RURU OUT HERE COMMITTING FEDERAL CRIMES
FOR LOVE 😍💖💕💞💘

💣404Found💣:

UGH

I HATE YOU BOTH

💙Blueberries💙:

I love you lots Ruru!!! 💖💖💖

SO UH

ABOUT THAT TRAIN HIJACKING THO

should i be worried?? 😅😅😅

💣404Found💣:

no

...unless you keep spamming emojis like a
corny facebook mom

🌈 AcryllicsROverrated 🌈:

NOOOOOO 😫

LEAVE THE EMOJIS OUT OF THIS RURU 😢🦑🥺

💣404Found💣:

THEY ARE UNECESSARY AND GAUDY

💙Blueberries💙:

ok but SERIOUS QUESTION

what if u guys meet me & think

“wow this guy’s way uglier irl” 😶😶😶

🌈 AcryllicsROverrated 🌈:

IMPOSSIBLE

I've seen ur morning jog snaps

10/10 hunky ecto daddy 👅💦🍆🥵🔥

💣404Found💣:

I'm going to bleach my entire skull

from the idiot not ur pics

💙Blueberries💙:

LOL 😂😂😂

Well that makes me feel better!!!

(12:46 PM)

💙Blueberries💙:

Guys...

[💙Blueberries💙 shared an image🏠]

IS THAT THE FUCKING DOODLESPHERE
MURAL ON THE SIDE OF THIS BUILDING???

aND WHAT THE HELL IS THIS PLACE
ANYWAY???

I THOUGHT YOU SAID YOU LIVED IN AN
APARTMENT NOT A PENTHOUSE???

🌈 AcryllicsROverrated 🌈:

penthouses are apartments doe 😕❓🤔

💙Blueberries💙:

OMG

HOLY SHIT ACRYLLI ARE YOU FUCKING INK
COMYET???

THE INK COMYET WHO PAINTED THE EMPIRE
STATE BUILDING LAST YEAR???

🌈 AcryllicsROverrated 🌈:

Did I do that? Lol 😙😘😉

💣404Found💣:

TOLD YOU HE’D FIGURE IT OUT SQUID

💙Blueberries💙:

OMG RURU HOW COULD YOU NOT TELL
ME??? 😭😭😭

wait

IF YOUR FUCKING DATING INK COMYET
THEN THAT MEANS YOUR ERROR
GLITCHTRAPZ???

😭😭😭

I'VE BEEN SENDING YOU GUYS SHITTY
TIKTOK VIDEOS OF CATS AND
UNDERNOVELLA MEMES

FOR SIX MONTHS

🌈 AcryllicsROverrated 🌈:

Ruru really loves ur memes!!! 😝💯👏

I've never seen him laugh at an edit before!!!

He says all of mine are brainrot 🤕🗿💀

💣404Found💣:

Dancing chicken nuggets are NOT quality memes
you fucking braindead doughnut

💙Blueberries💙:

omg

I SENT YOU GUYS THIRST TRAPS

I SENT ERROR GLITCHTRAPZ

MY POLEDANCING VIDEOSSS 💀💀💀

💣404Found💣:

yeahyeah you fucking did get over it

now get ur ass in here and get over urself bc I
didn't buy and install this fitness pole and stage so
you WOULDNT FUCKING dance on it like you
fucking said you would

💙Blueberries💙:

😳😳😳

I did say that...

I did say that didn't I?

🌈 AcryllicsROverrated 🌈:

yeah you did!!

you also said I could "paint you like one of my
french girls" 👅

I already have the canvass ready!!! You can't
keep us waiting!!! 🥺🥺🥺

💙Blueberries💙:

fuuuuuuuuuck 😩😩😩

okokok

I'll be up in 5

💣404Found💣:

Make it 2

[💣404Found💣 shared an image🍆]

💙Blueberries💙:

I'll be there in 1 sir 🏃‍➡️🏃‍➡️🏃‍➡️

Chapter Text

There was a boy that Dust used to frolic in the fields with as a lad. He was two taps shorter than he was, with glimmering stars dotted over and around his maxilla and zygomatic ridge. "Freckles," he told him, laughing when Dust tried to wipe them away. "One for each life I've lived and died before," he mused.

When Dust asked him why his parents and the other monsters of the village hadn't any, he said that they were too young to have lived yet. Dust liked that answer for some reason. It sounded true when he said it, even though it never could.

Dust never questioned why he'd never see the boy outside the meadows, nor his vanishing with every autumnal equinox, only to return with spring's first melt. He only cared that when the boy smiled, primroses burst into bloom all around them, and a fire would sprout in Dust's ribs, just below the sternum.

As they grew older, Dust's mother began to grow fearful of his secluded nature, fearing a changeling in her cradle, and brought him to the old stone church where they bade him speak.

He spoke too much.

Dust was never allowed to return to the meadow after that.

Years hardened him from there- many winters cooped with the nuns, springs bundled away with his mother, made to march through summer's glaring heat in the fields. Time was what they hoped would drain his poisoned heart and wash away the besetting curse on his soul.

Yet the night when Dust turned twenty, he found himself standing at the meadow’s edge at twilight, work-worn hands clutching a single primrose. He felt honey clogging his throat as he strangled for breath, the air reeked of ice melt and fragrant blooms.

And there he stood.

No longer a boy, but something other: antlers crowned his skull, wreathed in living ivy; his freckles glowed brighter than ever before, like trapped starlight. The primroses beneath his bare feet unfurled in riotous color, petals brushing his ankles as if in worship.

“Come home with me,” He whispered, pressing a dewy kiss to Dust’s teeth. The man tasted of stolen childhood summers. “I’ll give you freckles too. Stars for every life we’ll share together.”

Somewhere, a woman's shrill voice was calling out. But the name she cried no longer held any resonance to him. Dust only knew it was his old name, the mortal name that tethered him from reaching for morning dew and fireflies.

"You remember," the fae murmured. Expression blissful and vernal. "How the nuns burned your knees on cold chapel floors for speaking of me. How your mother wept when she found primroses under your pillow."

Dust leaned down. Let their mouths slot together. Let the primrose fall.

"They called you cursed," he murmured, gently pulling Dust into the tree line. The oaks around them unfurled with grand sighs of relief, the world shimmering with each step taken. "But you were never for them to keep in the first place."

Somewhere, a church bell tolled as Dust's bones gnarled and sharpened with winter's thorns.

A woman cried over a stone grave marker, as his magic chilled with the breath of hoarfrost.

And right below his left socket, a glinting speck of red bloomed on his face. For the life he now began.

Chapter Text

Red used to count the days between visits.

Classic’s laugh crackled through the machine’s speakers like static, his grin pixelated but warm. "Heya, lazy bones. Aching for this pub-rizz, already?"

Red would flip him off, but his soul pulsed like a live wire. They’d trade puns over stolen hot dogs, comparing timelines RESET after RESET, neutrals after genocides. Two skeletons drowning in déjà vu and not enough knowing.

But it was bearable with each other. The companionship in having someone who could see you inside and out and not judge a thing too harshly.

Red never pictured himself as a committed guy... But for Classic? Once he got himself thinking about it, he found there was a hell lot of things he'd be willing to do for hardly anyone else

Then, one day, the screen stayed black.

Red kicked the machine. Rewired it. Screamed.

Nothing. For hours. For days. For...

Months bled together. Grillby stopped reminding him of his tab every other visit, and then altogether. The Dogi began leaving porn mags in his sentry station. Even the Boss didn't yell at him in public as much as he used to.

The pity made him sick. The loneliness was crushing him. Not knowing why...

He might've started succumbing to hopelessness being left like that, if it weren't for his phone suddenly ringing off it's goddamn chain. He honestly couldn't make out much more than "rogue monster" and "LV surge" from whatever Alphys was raving about, but he didn't need to.

So with a reluctant grit in his jaw, Red teleported straight to Hotland.

The caverns were a mess. Red hadn’t been expecting fucking blood- great smears and pools of it, still sizzling on the magma rocks. The stench made him gag at take a step back.

Cnch-

His sneakers crunched on something brittle. A monster candy, half-melted by the surrounding heat now. Though... he couldn't help but lag at how vibrant the wrapping was. Blue with yellow stripes. Just like the ones Classic would-

A hand seized his neck from behind.

Red barely had time to choke before he was slammed into the ground- thankfully not landing in any of the remains strewn about. Less lucky was his hoodie ripping as teeth dove in and scraped his cervical vertebrae.

Red didn't hold back a high pitched yelp as he struggled against his feral assailant. Holy fuck this psycho was trying to eat him-!

"Missed you," a voice rasped, drier and more broken than ever.

But it was that cadence. That fucking cadence.

"C- Classic-?"

Red’s soul stuttered. That was Classic’s voice.

But the skeleton pinning him was all wrong: ribs scarred with fractures, pelvis sharp where softness used to be. Classic’s tongue laved the notch of Red’s spine as his free hand slid under his ribcage, and Red found himself moaning unbiddenly as those clever fingers found his weakspot. "Knew you’d come. Knew you’d see me, heh heh heh."

Red twisted, catching a glimpse of Classic’s face - one eyelight a blurred purple between overlapping red and blue rings, the other a pinprick of red. "The fuck happened to-"

Classic’s teeth sank deeper into Red’s vertebrae, tongue mapping each ridge like a starving man savoring his last meal. "Mine," he rasped, fingers twisting Red’s ribs - just light enough to avoid damage - until his back arched with a broken moan.

Red’s protests dissolved into static.

Classic never touched him like this- desperate, devouring, as if he could stitch their skeletons together through sheer force of want.

"Missed your fuckin’ voice," Classic panted, licking into Red’s clavicle. "Missed your smartass mouth." He ground down, the heat between them nothing like the magma pools around them. "Gonna ruin it ‘til you forget how t’beg."

Red thrashed, but Classic pinned his knees under his own weight, kissing down his spine with wanton intent, one hand fisted in his mangy hoodie, pulling it down the further he went. “S’okay,” Classic crooned, licking a stripe up Red’s skull. “Gonna keep you now.”

The stench of LV rolled off him in waves, thick as the blood staining his boyfriend's hands. Red gagged. “Classic-!”

“Dust.” He ground his pelvis against Red’s, the bulge in his shorts unmistakable. “Say it.”

Red whimpered despite himself. “What the fuck- hah, happened to you?!”

He felt the other shrug, not stopping in his exploration

Dust laughed- wet, broken. “Fixed it.” His phalanges dug into Red’s hips, blunt and claiming as they scrambled to pull down the shorts. “No more RESETS. No more human.” A shuddering sigh. “Just you.”

Red’s soul stuttered as the monster that was - used to be - his boyfriend decidedly lost his patience, summoning fire magic(?!?) to burn away his last remaining bits of dignity, revealing the studded pelvic girdle and shamefully sopping pool of magic already fighting to snap into place for its mate.

The growl of desire that left the monster on top of him was nothing short of sinful.

Dust’s grip tightened and Red couldn't help but let his ribs rattle submissively as he lunged down, teeth scraping the studs of Red’s pelvis, tongue lapping at the magic pooling there.

Red was more surprised than he should have been when his magic instinctively formed a softer body for Dust to mount. As opposed to doing the mounting.

“Fuck,” Dust groaned, voice raw with savage want. “Knew you’d still taste like home, little bitch.”

Woah: new kink unlocked.

Red whimpered, torn between shoving him off and arching closer. “Classic- Dust- fuck, stop, we gotta talk-”

A sharp warning bite to his ilium silenced him. Dust’s fingers - too wiry now, too sharp - dug into the dips of Red's sacrum, pressing just shy of bruising. “Nah. What we gotta do,” he purred, mercilessly licking a stripe up between his folds, “is remind you who owns this sweet ass.”

The studs in Red's hips glowed crimson as Dust aligned them, magic crackling between them like live wires. Red’s spine bowed off the ground.

“Mine,” Dust snarled, sheathing himself in one brutal thrust.

Red’s nerve-endings whited out.