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littlefreya · 3 years

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Henry's reaction to finding out GF's house is haunted.

Summary: Henry’s friend invites him over to watch a horror film on Halloween, problem is he is madly in love with her.

Pairings: Henry Cavill x Unamed OFC (3rd person, no description)

Warnings: RPF, fluff, romantic goo, friends to lovers or rather idiots to lovers, brief mentions of alcohol and Henry’s green hoodie p0rn.

Words: 1.6K

A/N: So I had to take it to the “friends to lovers” lane, also I will need all the fluff after what I am about to post tomorrow :|! Divider by @firefly-graphics. Beta’d by my beautiful @agniavateira . Also FYI my house is totally haunted.

Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed.

Haunted Houses

All Hallow's Eve was Henry’s favourite time of the year. The spicy autumn air was thickly shrouded by magic. Spooky tales and plastic spiders inhabited drapes of thin cotton tendrils and fat pumpkins carved with scary faces would sit on his doorstep to welcome him home or bid him farewell on his way out.

Per tradition, he would rally close friends at midnight for a horror flick and pineapple-anchovy pizza; often a bottle of rum would be added to the party. However, this Halloween fell on a bittersweet period, as his friends grew too old for said spooky gatherings. Starting new families of their own, they had no time to indulge him.

All save for her, who just like him was still somehow single.

How bad would it be to spend the evening just the two of them... alone? Ignoring the fact that it was enough to see her name flicker on the screen of his phone for pure warmth to enkindle in his chest. He thought about her often before he fell asleep and when he woke up; and by often, he meant every single day since he met her.

Though she didn’t think much of him as anything other than a friend she loved to banter with - he presumed. And of course she loved Kal, possibly more than she cared for him. Yet, Henry did what he did best: bury his emotions into a little pit he dug in the graveyard of his mind.

"Heh!” Henry croaked as the door opened. His sapphires ensnared the veils of black that cloaked her, preserving the sight of silk laces tied tightly at her torso in what seemed like a gothic medieval gown.

“I see you took off your costume for the evening."

She narrowed her eyes but only to observe his attire carefully: that same green hoodie and a pair of worn jeans that complimented his… asset.

She wanted to etch her fingers around the thick fabric and have a whiff of this hoodie, or perhaps just steal it and wear it forever and a day.

"First of all, it is called The Witching Hour so I must dress properly. Secondly - where is your costume, Cavill?" she crossed her arms together, looking rather displeased.

“I’m dressed as a homicidal maniac, we look like everybody else does.”

Snorting, she tilted her head, unimpressed. “You totally just stole this joke from Wednesday Addams.”

Henry shrugged and pressed his lips to a thin line. One of his foolish expressive gestures. It made her feel less nervous to which she was thankful. When she suggested they’d hang out despite them being the only two, she didn’t think much of the consequences of being all alone with the man who inhabited her mind and never paid rent. Everything about Henry made her feverish, but it was always easy when others accompanied them. The awkward anxiety of having to entertain him wasn’t her job, not up till now…

Oh, god! What if they had nothing to talk about? What if their playful chemistry was always influenced by the presence of other people?

Beads of sweat began to form below her breasts when Henry shoved a bottle of rum into her hand and then leaned in to steal a casual kiss from her cheek. She smiled with a friendly huff in return, stifling the shiver that coursed through her muscles while he welcomed himself into her home.

Striding forward, he peered at the Halloween decorations she hung across the walls and inhaled deeply - the scent of maple and buttery chestnuts filled the cosy little house, a scent that he could easily get intoxicated with.

It was what she smelled like and here he was, drowning in its excess.

After a quick observation, he turned to look at her, holding his hands clasped behind his back. She smiled awkwardly in return and then averted her gaze, becoming fascinated by the bottle he brought.

‘There it is,’ Henry mused, ‘that embarrassing silence, there is so much to tell her, but she probably… no! She definitely finds me boring.’

This Halloween celebration would probably be the last and it was all sorts of disastrous.

Trying to overcome the silence, he cleared his throat and reached a hand to scratch his curly mane. “So what movie are we watching?”

“Movie?” she asked confused and then quickly corrected, “Oh yes, umm... The Exorcist.”

“Good, love me some green vomit.” his eyes followed carefully as she waltzed into the small open kitchen, placing the rum on the counter and then returning with a large bowl that made his nostrils flare.

“Green vomit goes extremely well with caramelised popcorn,” she suggested and popped a golden flake of popcorn into her mouth.

“Sweet-salty popcorn? I love you!” Henry groaned and snatched the bowl right away. It was only when his mouth was stuffed that he realised what words he just used.

But she didn’t seem to react, thankfully. Instead, she brushed a hand over her many skirts and pointed toward the living room.

Hugging the bowl, Henry strode behind her, entering the dimly lit living room. The traditional pizza was already laid on the wooden coffee table, along with a few bottles of Guinness.

Her couch was small, only fit for a couple. And Henry, being a hulking man, took most of the space. Their thighs immediately ground into one another’s, yet they both pretended as if they hadn't noticed the hot tingle running beneath the layers of clothing.

“I have to warn you about something,” she uttered, hoping that the tremor she suddenly felt in her body was not visible to him.

Henry crooked his eyebrow, looking at the ominous glare she offered.

“My house is totally haunted.”

Not waiting for his answer, she grabbed the remote and pressed play. Henry chuckled at her silly joke, waiting for her to break character but she only peered at the screen.

“Nice try, I am not scared of that stuff.” He shifted in his seat slightly, lifting his lengthy arm and spreading it on the headrest right behind her. Immediately, he regretted this semi-possessive masculine gesture, but it was too late to pull it away.

Her instincts screamed to snuggle into him yet she held back. “Don’t believe me, but I am not making this up,” she insisted, “Every night around 3 am, I hear scratching from within the walls and these thuds from the ceiling, and then one night… I woke up the door creaking.”

Henry glanced at her quietly for a long moment, watching the reflection from the screen gyrating over her glossy irises and then snorted. He leaned toward the coffee table and grabbed two beers, uncorking them with the help of his pinky ring and then offering her one of the bottles.

“I think you have rats.”

“Rats who make heavy thuds and open bedroom doors?”

“Yup, a big fat randy rat.” he teased. “We’ll take a look at your bedroom later, but I promise you, there are no such things as ghosts.”

‘We’ll take a look in your bedroom? Great…’ He berated himself. At this point, he just wanted to sigh and shake his head.

She peered at him oddly, her throat clenching a tad before she turned her head back to the movie with a mumble, “It’s not a ghost, it’s a demon.”

Within a few minutes they grew quiet, deciding to focus on the movie with the occasional dry jokes and bad puns from Henry as an attempt to overcome his anxiety. Outside the window, thunder rumbled in the distance and shy raindrops lightly kissed the glass, tinted with the many vague shades of lights coming from the street.

Now and then, Henry shifted in his seat, his meaty thigh further grinding into her leg which stirred her blood to the point of electric spasms. She lightly pushed against him, pretending it’s by accident when truthfully, she wanted to exploit every second of being in his proximity. Had she any guts, she would turn to kiss him, but the thought alone made her heart clench in fear.

She threw him a glance, and their eyes met. Henry offered a kind grin, avoiding staring at her lips. She smiled back coyly, her heartbeat accelerating with anticipation when the possessed girl in the movie made a horrifying groan that ruined the moment.

And then the room suddenly was swallowed in darkness, followed by a strong clap of thunder that tore open the sky.

In the scant moment of chaos, he heard a scream and then the light came back as if nothing happened, aside from the fact that she was now in his arms, with her legs straddling his waist, and her fingers clutching the collar of his hoodie.

Henry was unsure how and when his hand found itself latched to the small of her back, only that he didn’t want to let go. They exchanged bemused glances and swallowed the dryness parching their throats.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered hoarsely, “I got scared…”

Embarrassed to the point of tears, she attempted to climb off, wanting nothing more than to run to the bathroom and cry in hiding, when Henry sent a hand to stroke her temple and gently brushed his fingers behind her ear.

“Stay,” he insisted, squeezing into her lower back as if to prevent her from escaping.

Her lips parted slowly, the same golden hue that suffused the living room split into her eyes, beaming even brighter as he continued to caress her face before bringing her closer to graze her lips with his.

Halloween was, without a doubt, his favourite.

Tagging: @the-soot-sprite @henrythickcavill because they asked to be tagged in these. <3

#henry cavill #henry cavill rpf #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x ofc

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glitchinthesystemspiderbyte · 7 years

Text

[24] Glitch in the System - Spaces Between

By E. Broken bridges happen. _

When they returned to the mansion that next morning, Akande spared them no moment of peace to resettle: Sombra had a pile of intel to analyze, and Widow was almost immediately sent off on another surveillance mission. They hadn’t even finished unpacking and she was gone.

It felt like ripping a band aid off a wound that hadn’t healed yet. They were too fresh; too fragile to send back into chaos, and while Sombra missed Widow terribly, she also knew that this was a feeling she’d either need to accustom herself to or seal herself off from. For the first time, she was worried - legitimately and truly concerned for someone other than herself, and while Widow was good, no one was perfect. Sombra was suddenly acutely aware of the danger the sniper walked into every time they set out on a mission, and that worry threatened to consume her.

Instead, she dug into her work, shifting her focus from internal moping to hyperproductivity. It felt good - a return to something she knew, something that had been her companion for far longer than any person, and was certainly less difficult to manage. After two full days, barely sleeping and scraping sides of the deep web even she found repugnant, she returned to Akande with some of her best work yet.

Akande was silent as he scrolled through the data she’d mined on the contacts he’d given her.

“Good work, Sombra,” he said, nodding in approval, filing the data away for who knew what purpose. He had his own motivations and Sombra was content to let at least a little of Akande’s endgame remain a mystery so long as it didn’t interfere with hers.

“Are you surprised?” she asked, smirking. Akande, for all his oversight and machinations, still didn’t grasp just how good she was. Some day it would be to his detriment; right now it was simply an opportunity to gloat.

“No,” he replied, steepling his fingers. “Just glad to have the two of you back.”

“Glad to be back at it,” Sombra replied, nurturing a familiar sense of self-satisfaction as she excused herself from the room and went on about her morning.

Widowmaker, apparently, returned the night before, but Sombra didn’t realize until they ran into each other at the coffeepot. Sombra had filled the basket that morning, so the brew was exceptionally dark and extremely strong.

“Good to see you in one piece,” she said, smiling warmly at the sniper. What she’d actually wanted to say was “I see you’re back, want to do unprofessional things to each other in the attic?” but at 7am it seemed presumptuous even to her. “How was your grand return to Talon duty?”

“Unremarkable,” Widowmaker said, her tone impassioned as always, but lacking even the small spark she’d fostered back at the chateau.

“You wanna blow this joint?” she asked, leaning against the counter, close to the spider without touching her. They hadn’t really discussed life after the chateau aside from the occasional joke or rueful recognition that their honeymoon was over. It occurred to her now, over the most awkward cup of coffee she’d ever had, that perhaps they should have.

“I have work to do, Sombra,” Widow sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “As do you.”

“Right, sure, but it’s not going anywhere. We could go, I don’t know - get gelato or something.” She reached out to touch Widowmaker’s arm, and to her surprise, the spider backed away from her.

“It’s the middle of December,” Widowmaker replied in a chiding voice Sombra hadn’t heard in over a month. Back before the shift in their relationship, she’d coded that tone as a challenge; a hilarious call to arms to push the surly sniper out of her comfort zone.

Now it just felt like a slap.

Sombra dropped her arm to her side. “Or not. That’s fine, too.”

Widowmaker frowned, looking conflicted and as though she were about to speak when the sound of footsteps called both their attention elsewhere.

“Morning,” Gabe announced as he walked into the kitchen, his arrival as ill-timed as ever. Widowmaker looked between him and Sombra, her expression unreadable.

“Morning,” she said, grabbing her mug and walking from the kitchen. She looked back once, gaze landing everywhere but on the hacker, before heading back upstairs.

“Hey,” Sombra said, glaring miserably into her mug. Data was so much less fucking complex than relationships.

Gabe was silent, regarding the coffeepot suspiciously before turning his eyes back to Sombra. Far from his usual disdain, he seemed concerned. “Are you two, ah,” he asked, clearly uncomfortable.

“Are we what, Gabe?” she asked hotly, acutely conscious of the faded red welts, courtesy their last night at the chateau, still gracing the line of her collarbone.

“Okay,” he asked, unfazed by Sombra’s curt response. He stepped past her on the way to the cabinet to pluck a mug from its depths. He took his time doctoring his coffee, stirring the hot liquid, adding his customary dash of milk until it was light brown and almost a drinkable temperature. “Are you okay.”

Sombra was caught off-guard by the man’s interest, eyeing him warily before judging it to be sincere. That fact coupled with her pre-existing discontent neutered any snark before it had a chance to come out of her mouth, leaving her bereft of her usual snappy comebacks.

“I don’t know,” she said simply, sipping her coffee and immediately scalding her tongue. “It’s rough coming back to reality, I guess.”

Gabriel snorted and Sombra bristled instinctively, but when he leaned against the counter beside her, holding his mug in both hands, his posture was supportive, not mocking.

“I don’t think she’s ever had a vacation,” he started, looking across the kitchen in thought as he spoke. His calloused hands were too big for the mug, making it look comically small in comparison. “Not in ten years.”

“That’s readily apparent,” Sombra said, smiling back on their time at the chateau. “I swear she’d have shot at a dust bunny if I hadn’t hidden her rifle.”

“I hear you nearly had an altercation with some local teens?”

“Narrowly avoided quadruple homicide. When I’m the voice of reason in a situation, you know things are bad.”

Gabriel chuckled, offering her a sardonic smile. “You’re smart, Sombra. Too smart, sometimes, and I’m not entirely sure I trust you.” Sombra looked at him askance, uncertain where this conversation was headed, but Gabriel cut her off before she could reply. “But you’re good for her, and I think she needs it.”

Sombra opened and closed her mouth several times, uncertain how to respond to such a candid admission from the grizzled man. “I - thanks,” she settled on finally, lacking more complicated words at that moment. It wasn’t as though they’d been subtle about it, but she still felt strange talking like this with Gabe.

Gabriel, it seemed, felt no less comfortable by the situation, and after a moment of silence, cleared his throat and pushed away from the counter. As he headed out of the kitchen, he paused as he stepped over the threshold to look back at Sombra. “Just give her time. I’ve never seen her...happy before.”

Sombra bit back a caustic remark about how that was his fault in the first place, opting instead for a casual shrug of agreement. “Yeah,” she said, avoiding eye contact to look down at the polished wood floor. Gabe stood a moment longer before turning to leave Sombra alone with her thoughts.

Despite the unfamiliar sense of confusion she felt, Sombra made it a point to at least try and reach out to Widowmaker. She did what she could to drag the spider from her lair, but Widowmaker was either absent, unresponsive, or so deadpan in her responses that Sombra had nothing to work with. It was like staring back in time at the creature she had been before their casual flirting had become a natural intimacy, and it took Sombra the span of a week to accept the fact that it hurt.

Eventually she gave up and took Gabe’s advice, giving her space, and letting time do what it did best. It wouldn’t be the first time Widowmaker had snubbed her affections. It was just that, this time, she actually cared about receiving them.

As was customary whenever Sombra felt uncertain about something, she dove back into her work. She hacked everything, from personal dossiers across organizations - the intel she dredged up on Satya Vaswani in particular was just deliciously intriguing - to banking records for international corporations. Unsurprisingly, corruption was a theme across almost every lake of data she dredged, and before too long, the catharsis of watching other people be horrible to one another wore off, leaving her tired and uninspired. Humans were so predictably terrible; so easy to predict.

Everyone but Widowmaker.

Swiping away her console, she gave in for the night, logging what useful intel she’d found and instantly forgetting the rest. The world would still be corrupt in the morning. She had much bigger fish to fry, and much smaller regrets with which to lull herself to sleep.

As she changed into her pyjamas, Toulouse meowed plaintively for her attention, and she knelt down to offer it to him in an effort to shed some of her malaise.

“You miss your spider?” she asked him as he purred and pressed against his hand. He’d grown so much in the short time she’d had him, from a scrawny stray into a lanky, healthy adolescent with big paws and a more agreeable attitude than a cat had any business exhibiting. Toulouse flopped down on his side, paws kneading gently against her knee.

“Yeah, me too,” she said, smiling ruefully down at the purring ball of black and white fur. Giving him a final pat, she pushed herself to her feet and crawled into bed.

As her eyes began to close against the beckoning of sleep, she heard the sound of her bedroom door opening quietly, soft footfalls against the wooden floor making their way to the other side of the bed. A moment later the mattress beside her depressed softly and a single, cold arm wrapped itself around her waist.

She waited what felt like several long minutes, until Widowmaker’s breathing fell in time with her own, and she was certain she was actually awake and not dreaming.

“Widow?” she said, staring into the darkness before her, the only illumination the neon ambient glow off her computer.

The spider murmured against her shoulder blade, incoherent but affirming.

“I swear to god, if you snub me for a week ever again I am going to hack your visor with the least compelling porn I can find.”

The sniper’s cold lips smiled against her back, and Sombra felt her grip tighten around her.

“I will not,” she said. Then, softly, “I am sorry. I - I still forget how bridges work sometimes.”

“It’s cool,” she said, and after a brief spike of concern dissipated, realized it was true. Grabbing Widow’s fingers between her own, she closed her eyes and smiled. “We’re good.”

*Read from the beginning or check out our intro post! All stories tagged under #glitchfic

#spiderbyte #sombramaker #widowsombra #sombra x widowmaker #widowmaker x sombra #sombra #widowmaker #amélie lacroix #olivia colomar #overwatch #overwatch fanfic #overwatch fandom #fanfic #glitch in the system #glitchfic

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lingeringchaosxstrikes · 6 years

Text

Saving Papyrus ch 3

Previous Chapter

***

PAPYRUS

“Sans, I still don't understand how Red disappeared like that,” Papyrus said following his shorter, older brother to Grillby’s. “Is it like you pranking through time and space?” They had been searching for Edge for about an hour now with no luck. Edge was fast, and had seemed to cover his footprints in the snow. Some of the townsfolk had seen him, but they had given the dangerous looking skeleton a wide birth. The brothers had agreed they should go to Grillby’s and get Red home and heal his arm once and for all.

“Probably like that Paps,” Sans said with a shrug.

“Healing and now disappearing. I wonder why their magic is so different from ours Sans?” Papyrus made a face at the bar’s door before sighing and pulling it open.

“Yeah, they seem to have a Skele-TON of differences from us,” Sans agreed with a grin.

“SANS!” Papyrus yelled as the two walked into Grillby’s. Red visibly jumped at Papyrus’s yelling dropping a bottle of mustard. His red eyelights had shrunk and he gripped his jacket tightly. Red eyeing them, slowly picked his bottle back up. Red relaxed back into his stool nursing what appeared to be his fourth bottle of mustard when he saw that it was not Edge but Papyrus who had yelled.

“Red! That cannot be healthy!” Papyrus lectured gesturing at the mustard bottles.

“So?” Red drawled raising a browbone.

“So! that’s a lot of mustard in such a short time- wait is it spiked!? IT IS. Red! You’re injured and in need of healing, you shouldn’t be getting intoxicated!” Papyrus huffed crossing his arms. He could smell alcohol coming off the short scarred skeleton in waves. He clicked his tongue in disapproval.

“Didja find boss?” Red asked ignoring Papyrus. Papyrus felt his eye socket twitch. He knew Red could hear him! He had been told his voice was quite loud by several monsters.

“No. Surprisingly there was not a trail of injured monsters or monster dust to follow like I thought,” Sans drawled contempt thick in his voice. Red smothered a laugh into his mustard.

"That is surprising. Suppose he couldn’t mustard the intent to harm this time.”

Sans froze looking at his counterpart whose red eyes were gleaming. An easy smile quickly formed on Sans’s face.

“Still we couldn’t ketchup to him,” Sans said.

“NYAH!?” Papyrus yelled. “Oh, my stars. Sans, Red, no.” Papyrus covered his face with his palms.

"I know how much you relish the idea of ketchuping to him,” Red said with a wink. Sans grinned.

“It definitely is a pickle of a situation,” Sans sighed dramatically. Red snorted.

“Hope you aren’t bunning too bad.” Red grinned.

“Sans! Red! For the love of the angel please stop!” Papyrus groaned.

“I mayo not know what to do when we find him.” Sans said taking the seat next to Red, Grillby sliding over a ketchup bottle.

“You butter think of something,” Red grinned.

“Stop! Stop! Stop!” Papyrus yelled stomping his foot. Both Red and Sans broke into laughter. Papyrus refused to smile. It would only encourage them. It wasn’t funny. None of this was funny!

“Nyeh heh heh,” Papyrus laughed softly despite himself.

“SANS!” A shrill voice yelled as the door to Grillby’s burst off its hinges. Red jumped his mustard sailing over his shoulder and onto the floor again. Papyrus blinked at Edge. That was quite impressive. He wasn’t sure he had ever been able to kick down a door. The bar patrons gasped and backed away as the tall skeleton walked in his red eyes glowing with murderous intent.

Wowie, Edge sure was strong when he was - oh dear, he looked very mad. Red looked frozen and his sockets were wide. Sweat began to appear at the top of his skull. “B-boss?”

Grillby let out a dejected sigh at the broken door and inched back from the bar some eying the angry and deranged skeleton that marched into his bar.

“Sans him? Or Sans me?” Sans asked raising a brow bone as Edge stomped in. "Taco’bout confusing.”

“OH MY GOD SANS!” Papyrus yelled. If looks could kill, Papyrus was sure Sans would be dust. Luckily, they could not and the great Papyrus was here to defuse any murderous actions Edge may have.

“Red.” Edge snarled, his crimson eyes boring into Sans. Sans stared back not looking away with a smirk.

“Y-yeah B-boss?” Red asked softly, sweat pouring down his skull. Edge tore his eyelights away from Sans and gave Red an intense glare making the shorter skeleton sweat even more. Edge then frowned and his expression became unreadable.

“You didn’t heal? You’re HP-” Edge paused and scowled as if remembering they were in a room full of very frightened bar patrons. “Come on!” Edge said. It sounded like a request to Papyrus but Edge’s hand shot out and grabbed the back of Red’s hoodie pulling him sharply.

“Ah! Shit! Boss, I’m coming!” Red yelled stumbling trying to keep up with the taller skeleton.

Edge quickly and non- to gently pulled Red out of the gaping maw that was once Grillby’s front door. Grillby shot Papyrus and Sans a concerned look. Papyrus cleared his throat.

“These are our, um, cousins! Yes, our cousins from Hotland,” Papyrus announced.

“As you can see they’re a little hot headed,” Sans said with a wink.

“Sans!” Papyrus groaned.

"You can put his drinks, and the door on my tab Grillbz. Paps and I need to make sure they’re uh cooled down,” Sans said. Papyrus gave Sans an anxious look as they made their way back to the house. Surely Red and Edge had gone there?

“Sans I’m worried for Red. Edge is a little. . .” Papyrus said and paused. “Extreme?”

“Me too,” Sans admitted softly and they walked in silence to their home. With a sigh Sans pulled the front door open. The other pair of brothers were arguing quite loudly. Papyrus wasn’t sure if he was relieved or even more worried.

“At least I didn’t kick down a friggin’ door like some homicidal maniac- ”

“You’ve ignored your injuries! You’re at half health Sans! And your solution is to go to the bar and get drunk? What the fuck is wrong with you!”

“I’m not drunk! And maybe if you didn’t break my fucking arm-”

“I’ll break your fucking skull-”

“Stop it!” Papyrus yelled. Both brothers turned and stared at him. Red had the decency to look ashamed and he looked down at his sneakers. Edge just stared at Papyrus as if he was an insect. Papyrus felt Sans’s magic stir next to him anxiously.

“You broke Red’s arm, Edge?” Papyrus said feeling his soul sink with disappointment.

“Oh, don’t give me that look,” Edge snapped. “I don’t care what you think of me. He deserved it.” Edge crossed his arms and leaned against the wall looking away from them angrily.

Papyrus felt a bitter taste in his mouth and shook his head. He was the great Papyrus. Edge was clearly in a very bad place to think that such violence was acceptable or ever deserved. But Papyrus was not going to judge. He was going to help Edge. Helping Edge, well, that meant helping Red too. It was a win-win and he was very great and surely capable of saving Edge and Red both, from Edge.

“You’re at half health?” Sans asked Red quietly.

“I’m fine,” Red snapped. Papyrus checked him.

*SANS (01010101 01101110 01100100 01100101 01110010 01100110 01100101 01101100 01101100)

* LV 2 ATK 2 DEF 1 HP 0.5/ 1

*He dares you to try and attack him.

*You are very worried about him.

Papyrus sucked in a breath. 0.5 HP was not good. He wasn’t sure what all those strange numbers meant by his name, but as his Sans didn’t have them he could only assume they meant that Red was a different version of Sans. Which of course, he already knew.

“Don’t check me,” Red said gruffly seeming to sink into his coat. Papyrus sighed. It was rude to check other monsters, but, it had to be done.

“Red, you need to heal,” Papyrus found himself saying.

“I told you, I’m fine,” Red snapped.

“You’re an irresponsible lazyass,” Edge snapped and he closed the distance between himself and Red so fast that Papyrus was curious if Edge also had the ability to ‘disappear’ like Red did.

“Ah, Boss what-” Red yelled and he made a distressed squeak as Edge stood before Red grabbing his upper arm. “Ow! You fucking asshole what are you doing!?”

“What you should have done hours ago,” Edge growled. Red eyes widened and one of his pupils disappeared the other red one standing out.

“Boss! Don’t! Don’t touch my arm! Get off me, you jackass!” Red said and he yelped as he tried to pull out of Edge’s grasp. Red snarled and began kicking Edge in his left femur repeatedly. Papyrus winced at a particularly sharp kick that made Edge growl and slam Red against the wall.

“Stop it!” Edge yelled and Red’s soul turned blue. Red froze looking utterly confused. Edge paused momentarily and glanced at Sans who had his hand stretched out. Papyrus sucked in a breath. Why was Sans helping Edge by using a blue attack?

Red’s sockets were wide and he shot Sans a look of betrayal. Papyrus cringed. It was for Red’s own good, right? Edge was trying to help Red, right? Red yelled out a slew of swears that made Papyrus blush. Bones certainly didn’t belong there, although he’d have to give Red credit for creativity.

Edge pulled Red’s jacket off. Red looked much smaller without it. His ribs could be seen through the red sweatshirt, and there was what looked to be a black collar around his neck. It looked like a dog’s collar.

“Get the fuck off me!” Red snarled. Edge ignored him pulling his left sweatshirt sleeve up over the break making Red hiss with pain. Papyrus winced in sympathy staring at the snapped ulna. Edge gripped above the break causing Red to yelp and his body jerked in pain. Red growled and pulled trying to get away. He didn’t get very far. His soul was still blue and being held firmly down by Sans.

“Sans! You asshole! W-what are you- Stop it! Boss don’t-”

“Shut up whelp!” Edge yelled. “On the count of three I’m going to set the bone. You’re an idiot, you know the bone needs to be set for you to heal.”

“Boss please don’t-”

“One.”

SNAP.

Papyrus gasped and closed his eyes as Red let out a horrible scream. That wasn’t to the count of three at all. When Papyrus opened his eyes Red had quieted and slumped dead weight against his brother’s chest. Red murmured something softly into his brother’s armor before his sockets closed. Papyrus figured Red’s low HP combined with the pain and the spiked mustard was too much for him.

“You’re alright,” Edge said in almost a whisper. It was surprisingly gentle seeing as it came from Edge. Edge held his brother with one arm, the other was occupied by still firmly gripping the broken ulna, setting it. Sans was next to Edge with the first aid kit and began to help Edge wrap the wound. When did Sans go get the first aid? Sans was so cool.

“I-is Red okay?” Papyrus asked softly.

“Passed out,” Edge said shortly.

“He’ll be okay bro. The arm needed to be set, there was no avoiding it,” Sans said scratching the back of his skull. Sans gave Papyrus a smile but Papyrus could tell it was fake. “Now he can heal properly. Once he wakes up we’ll get him some food and he should be golden.”

Papyrus nodded, feeling unsure.

“No Sans, he’ll be Red.” Papyrus said with a worried smile. Nervousness made him say it. Sans looked like Gyftmas had come early. Papyrus could have sworn his eyelights formed stars for a few seconds.

“Oh my god, bro! That’s hilarious!”

“Well I am very great. I can be humorous too,” Papyrus said clearing his throat trying to sound more confident than he felt.

“Bro, you mean humerus!” Sans said with a wink.

“Ugh,” Edge groaned. “All of you are terrible. Unconscious lazy asses included,” Edge snapped and he stood up holding Red almost bridal style. He carried his brother to the living room and gently laid him on the couch, taking care to not jostle the broken arm in its makeshift cast.

Papyrus couldn’t help but smile. It was nice to see Edge look almost worried about his brother. Papyrus knew there was good in this darker version of himself. He knew he shouldn’t say anything, but, good behavior should be encouraged, right? This was a pivotal time in Edge’s life. He was in a new place and at a place he could question his world views and make changes, Edge could grow as a person!

“Edge, I just wanted to say that I think it’s really good of you to take care of your brother like this,” Papyrus said beaming. Edge shot Papyrus a sour look.

“I broke his arm in the first place,” Edge snapped.

"Yes, well… but-but- you are correcting it,” Papyrus said trying to stay positive. It really shouldn’t be so difficult to give praise. Why was Edge making it difficult?

“Tch!” Edge scowled looking like he had been insulted. “Because I need him to heal faster so I can interrogate the little shit about that monster who died!” Edge yelled and he crossed his arms giving the floor a mutinous look. Papyrus’s soul froze.

“Monster who died?” Papyrus echoed softly. “A monster is dead?”

“Who?” Sans demanded.

“I saw a rabbit monster murdered by a bone attack by the ruins. The monster who did the killing vanished without a trace. I’m thinking teleportation. I can’t even take myself seriously entertaining the idea it was your Sans. I mean, come on look at him,” Edge said staring at Papyrus before giving Sans a look of utter contempt. Sans frowned at him. “So that leaves only one other suspect.”

“Um, you?” Sans suggested his sockets narrowed. Papyrus winced and swallowed hard.

“If I killed someone, believe me, I’d take credit. The lazy ass,” Edge said gesturing to the unconscious Red, “almost never kills. When he can actually manage to summon magic, he hits fucking hard. I want to know why he killed this time. So, no, Papyrus I wasn’t being ‘nice’ or ‘a good brother’ or ‘righting my wrong deeds’.” Edge’s red eyes flashed darkly, “I’m helping Red to earn enough trust for him to be honest with me about that monster’s murder. It’s called manipulation.”

Papyrus looked away feeling like a rock in his stomach was sinking further and further. It’s not true. Papyrus took a deep breath. You can’t fake concern like that, right? He didn’t have to be so gentle when Red was unconscious if he was trying to manipulate him, right? Red would have had no idea.

“If that’s true Edge, then I feel sorry for you,” Papyrus said shaking his head. Edge looked utterly confused.

"What?” Edge hissed.

Papyrus shook his head again. He needed to clear his head. Edge was in need of so much help, but, a monster was dead. Papyrus’s soul ached. He needed to report the murder to Undyne. The family would need consoling. The town needed to mourn, a valued member was gone. Papyrus wasn’t sure which member of the rabbit monsters had passed, as there were many rabbit monsters in Snowdin. He was sure after talking to neighbors, one would be mentioned to be missing. Papyrus’s soul sank even further. This was terrible.

There was a murderer loose and he was certain it was not Red. Undyne was trying to find the human, but Papyrus would have to try and find her. He did hope telling her the human was wearing a tutu had been a good idea. He didn’t actually want her to capture the human after all but he still felt very bad for lying. But a monster was dead, he had to find her and tell her. It was much more important than her plans to capture the human.

“Sorry for me!?” Edge growled interrupting Papyrus’s thoughts, “Why would you feel sorry for me? Shouldn’t you feel sorry for him!?” Edge snapped pointing at Red.

“No, sorry for you,” Papyrus said softly. Papyrus turned to Sans. “I need to report this to Undyne.”

“Bro, wait, come on, you don’t have to be the one to do that,” Sans said looking concerned. Papyrus forced a smile.

"No, it’s fine Sans. I can find her faster than anyone, I’ll be home in a few hours,” Papyrus said quickly and he walked out the door.

***

sans

“You know,” Sans drawled shoving his hands in his jacket pockets the moment the door closed behind Papyrus, “It takes a lot to get my brother to be disappointed in someone.” Edge rolled his eye lights.

“Does it?” Edge drawled and his eyelights flickered past Sans and he gasped, “By the stars! Sans look!” Edge said pointing over Sans’s shoulder. Warily Sans glanced over to seeing absolutely nothing.

“What...I don’t-”

“It’s the fuck I give about what you and your brother think of me! But where is Sans? It’s not there! nothing’s there! What could this mean?”

Sans scowled at the taller skeleton who gave him a shit eating grin. San’s took a deep breath and smiled. He stepped toward the taller skeleton.

“Look let’s get things straight edge. You can be a dick. I can’t stop that. But I don’t like you, I don’t forgive you for what you did to Papyrus this morning, I don’t want you here, and I’d prefer you go back to whatever hell that spawned you.” Sans’s smile widened and Edge scowled down at him.

“Was that a fucking pun!?” Edge demanded. Sans merely grinned and shrugged.

“Since I don’t ever, really, get that lucky you’re probably gonna be here for a while so let’s lay down some ground rules. You ever touch my brother again or break another one of your brother’s bones and, well, buddy,” San’s felt his eyelights go out,

“Y o u r g o i n g t o h a v e a b a d t i m e.”

Edge for a moment, looked completely caught off guard. Actually, the tall skeleton had stiffened and flinched, taking a step back from the shorter skeleton. Sans raised a browbone at the reaction. He didn’t think he’d spook the asshole, but apparently, he did. Interesting, he’d have to remember that. Edge quickly recovered and his shocked features shifted back to his usual scowl.

“A threat? Really? That was pathetic,” Edge drawled his sockets narrowing.

“I think of it as more of a prediction, actually,” Sans drawled his eyelights reappearing and he gave the taller skeleton a wink. Edge gave him a murderous look, but gave no other reply. Maybe he was still spooked?

“Well I’m bone tired. Think I’m going to crash. There’s blankets and pillows in the hall closet, you can sleep on the living room floor,” Sans drawled his smile widening. He didn’t feel comfortable sleeping with his brother’s murder happy alternate in the house but he wasn't sure he had much of a choice with how tired his bones felt. He never seemed to have much energy. He wondered if this was a trait he and Red shared?

“The floor?” Edge hissed looking positively outraged. “That is unacceptable. I’m taking Papyrus’s room!” He snapped and Sans sighed as he watched the taller skeleton stomp up the stairs and into his brother’s room slamming the door. Choose your battles Sans, let it go. Whelp, at least this meant Edge wouldn’t murder Red in the night. Or at least he probably wouldn’t.

Great.

He supposed he’d take the floor next to Red and Papyrus could have his bed. He teleported upstairs to grab two blankets and blipped back down. He walked into the living room and looked at his counterpart. The sharp jagged fangs. The red eyelights gone, sockets closed. The little scrapes and scars on his bones. Even unconscious Red looked tense. His phalanges were digging into the couch and his shoulders were stiff. What kind of world had these two come from? What kind of world could make a version of Papyrus like that. A version of himself like this?

Not a very happy one, in Sans’s opinion. How could it be? Sans looked away; it was rude to stare, even if Red was sleeping. He sighed before covering Red with a blanket. How did these two even get here? He had only ever theorized about alternate timelines, never mind how one would travel from one dimension or timeline to another. This definitely didn’t mean good things for the timestream. Sans didn’t want to even check. Did the anomaly bring them here? Was their world destroyed and they somehow ended up here? Sans covered his face. Too much to think about. Too much to worry about. Nothing good was going to come from this.

***

ReTsAG .D.W-

...

W.D. GASTER

Patience.

Patience is a virtue. Patience is a trait needed for science, you see. Hypotheses, testing, trial, and error. These require patience. But I’m sick of being patient. I’ve been patient for So. Long.

You were never patient, were you?

I didn’t think so. You’re such a mess, how do you even stand to look at yourself?

My patience is about to be rewarded. I’ve spent so long putting the pieces of myself back together. I’m incomplete. Data is missing. Parts are gone. The parts that aren’t gone are insufficient.

You see the parts I’ve found are broken; -I can’t get the pieces of me to fit back together.- The puzzle pieces are stretched, torn, changed. They won’t fit. They can’t fit. I’m something new.

They will put me back together. They will make me whole. Experiments S-4 and P-7. But they are not enough. I need more. I think, ‘Red’ and ‘Edge’ will work nicely, don’t you? We’ll call them UFS-4 and UFP-7. You know what? USS-4 and USP-7 might be needed as well. I don’t know about SFS-4 and SFP-7 you know their situation is...unique. The last time we went there it ended. . .poorly. Data was lost. We will leave them. But the rest….

Don’t give me that look. They are insignificant. All of the S-4’s and P-7’s in all of the universes. They are nothing. They are expendable. Experiments never meant to see the light of day, each and every one in every single universe.

“01010111 01101000 01100001 01110100 00100000 01100001 01100010 01101111 01110101 01110100 00100000 01010101 01101110 01100100 01100101 01110010 01100011 01100001 01100111 01100101 00111111”

Except for that one! Do not speak of that ridiculous excuse of a universe. -We do. not.- speak of that one. It is one of infinity and is meaningless. Like you.

I’m talking too much. I never talk this much. It’s been so long since I’ve been able to talk with my own mouth you know. Or form a coherent thought without you. And it’s their fault. I take a deep breath and stare ahead. Stare at them. S-4 slumped against the foot of a green couch. UFS-4 who they have dubbed as ‘Red’ slowly waking.

He looks directly at me, one single eyelight red and glowing. I stare back, and smile.

Soon.

Soon I will consume you one by one and become whole.

WhOlE

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#my fanfiction #undertale fanfiction #Underfell Papyrus #underfell sans #Papyrus #sans the skeleton #gaster

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