Edgepuff, 37? <3

Aww man, this prompt works so adorably well for these two! Initially, I was going to have them playing real tennis. But, uh. Sports. So I went with Wii Sports instead hehe. For anyone who’s never played, I’ll just say this – it does not require any real exercise, and (without spoiling this too much) is very easy to rig.

With that said, I hope you like this! Thanks so much for sending in a request! Warning for extreme fluff.


“EDGY ME, HELLO!”

Edge flinched as Papyrus threw
his arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace. Tensing slightly, he did
his best not to grimace as he slowly pried Papyrus off him. “Hello Papyrus.”
Edge glanced over Papyrus’ shoulder. “Sans.” The shorter skeleton shot him a
grin, before shuffling past him into the living room. Edge watched him go
before ushering Papyrus inside and leaning in to murmur, “I assume you’re ready
to wipe the floor with our brothers?”

Papyrus nodded enthusiastically,
a wide grin on his face. “YES, OF COURSE! THE GREAT PAPYRUS WAS BORN READY! WE
WILL MAKE THEM REGRET THE DAY THEY—”

“Yes, yes, alright,” Edge
muttered, quickly taking a hold of Papyrus’ arm and dragging him into the
kitchen. He closed the door behind him to give them some privacy before
speaking. “We have a… slight problem.”

Papyrus’ grin faltered a little,
but his enthusiasm didn’t seem dampened. “WHAT SORT OF PROB—” He broke off as
Edge hushed him, nodding in the direction of the living room. “Um, what sort of
a problem, Edgy Me? Surely nothing the two Greatest of the Papyruses can’t
handle!”

Edge hummed, frowning. “That
remains to be seen,” he muttered, mostly to himself. Papyrus regarded him
quizzically, and Edge shook his head, grimacing. “Have you ever played Wii
Sports, Papyrus?”

This time, the smile plastered
across Papyrus’ face really did fade—almost into a frown, something Edge wasn’t
accustomed to on the bright skeleton’s face. “That infernal television video
game our brothers are always wasting time on?” He sighed, looking aggrieved. “When
I heard that Sans was playing a sport related game, I made the mistake of
getting my hopes up—I was severely disappointed. No, I can’t say I have strayed
near that ridiculous device, Edgy Me.” Papyrus seemed almost offended at the very
idea. That wasn’t a good sign. Seeming to sense Edge’s worry, he frowned. “Why…
are you asking?”

Edge released a weary sigh. “We
are no longer challenging our brothers to a board game, Papyrus.” Frowning, he
added, “They seemed to be under the impression that such an activity would give
us an unfair advantage, given our natural prowess at…” he coughed, “more
intellectually based challenges.”

“Hmm, I see…” Papyrus looked
thoughtful. “Well, I suppose that is true—you and I are rather well equipped in
the mental department!”

Edge smiled, nodding. “We
certainly are. I’ve managed to convince my lazybones brother to allow you a few
practice rounds on the Wii before we begin the proper challenge.”

Papyrus scoffed loudly, giving a
wave of his hand. “PRACTICE? THE GREAT PAPYRUS HARDLY NEEDS—” Seeing the hard,
deliberate look Edge was giving him, Papyrus quickly nodded, clearing his
throat. “But of course—I suppose it would be bad sportsmanship to turn down
such a generous offer. Very well! We shall practice at this sporting activity!”

“Well, um,” Edge’s eyes darted
away from Papyrus, and he shifted between his feet, feeling a little awkward.
“It’ll just be you practicing. I… should be alright without it.”

Papyrus narrowed his eye sockets
in suspicion, folding his arms. “Edgy Me, while I understand that you and I
both possess copious amounts of natural talent, we should really take advantage
of—”

“Well, no, that’s not it,” Edge
said, quickly. He felt a little embarrassed to admit it, but he’d spent most of
last night learning every technique he could in the various sporting options
available on his brother’s device. “I… practiced earlier,” he confessed,
deciding to leave out the detail of just how much time he’d spent practicing.

“Oh.” Papyrus nodded, seeming
satisfied. “Very well then, perhaps we should proceed to the aforementioned FLOOR WIPING.” Papyrus’ voice increased
in volume, and Edge couldn’t help but smile slightly at the renewed excitement
sparkling in his eyes.

Naturally, both their brothers
were lounging on the sofa when they re-entered the living room. Edge regarded
them disdainfully. “Have you two lazybones even bothered picking a sport yet?”

Red shrugged, not moving from his
seat. “nah, figured we’d let you do it, boss.”

Edge frowned, emanating contempt.
“The easiest task imaginable and you still leave it to us. How typical.”

Sans waved his hand in
nonchalance. “eh, losers pick. we’re just being good sports. hehe.” Edge rolled
his eyes at the weak pun, but proceeded to load the game nonetheless. He handed
Papyrus one of the remotes, ensuring he fastened the safety strap before
turning away. While Edge was fond of Papyrus’ enthusiasm, he himself had come a
little too close to leaving a hole in the TV screen last night due to his own…
passion.

Edge scrolled through the
options, pausing as he considered his strategy. Behind him, he heard Red give a
throaty chuckle. “heh, just pick one, boss. doesn’t matter. we’re gonna beat ya
no matter what.”

Narrowing his eye sockets and
acknowledging his brother with little more than a cold glare, Edge selected
tennis. He had to admit, during his immense… dabbling, tennis had certainly
been his strong suit. While he was tempted to opt for boxing—simply to give
himself an outlet for his temper should this go downhill—he figured it might
not be the best starter for Papyrus.

“hey, toss our remotes over here,
won’t you, paps?” Sans asked, glancing at his brother.

Papyrus frowned, his expression
disapproving as he regarded Sans. “Isn’t the point of the game to get off that
lazy coccyx of yours and do some exercise, brother?”

Sans pulled a face, giving a
careless wave of his hand. “nah, the point is to win, bro. now give us those
remotes, otherwise there isn’t even a remote chance of us winning.”

Papyrus looked conflicted for a
moment, his eye sockets narrowing at the grin that spread across Sans’ face. But
eventually, he caved, handing the two lazy skeletons their remotes with a
laboured sigh. He turned to Edge, shaking his head. “Edgy Me, if we lose this,
I will be very disappointed in us.”

Edge gave Papyrus a reassuring
smile. “Don’t worry. I can assure you, we won’t lose.”

Unfortunately however, it seemed
that Papyrus didn’t quite have Edge’s natural affinity for the computerised
tennis game. During his short practice, he missed almost all his serves, hit
the net several times, and even succeeded in dropping his remote (despite the
safety strap). Edge observed him, feeling more and more frustrated by the
minute. Papyrus attempted another swing at the ball, this time missing it
entirely.

Eventually, Edge decided he
couldn’t take it anymore, and rose from his seat, coming up behind Papyrus (narrowly
avoiding another wild swing of his remote). “Ugh, stop—stop. You’re doing it wrong—here,” Edge took a hold of Papyrus’
hand, guiding the remote, “let me show you.” Papyrus turned to look at him, a
hint of alarm crossing his features. But Edge simply nodded in the direction of
the screen. “Don’t focus on me, focus on your movements. They’re too stiff. You
need to be more fluid. Like this.”

His hand still clasped over
Papyrus’ on the remote, Edge braced his other on Papyrus’ ribs, guiding him in
a long, slow swing. Papyrus had gone strangely rigid. “Relax,” Edge murmured.
“It’ll be a lot easier if you do.” The other skeleton quickly nodded, allowing
his shoulders to drop slightly, and—much to Edge’s surprise—leaning right back
against him. “Uh…” Edge felt himself blushing slightly, and he suddenly caught
sight of his brother grinning at him. He shot Edge a wink as their eyes met,
earning him a sharp stare in return.

“I did it!” Papyrus cried, and
Edge’s gaze quickly snapped back to the screen in time to see the ball landing
successfully in the court. He hurriedly withdrew from Papyrus, realising there
was certainly no need for him to still be standing so close.

“wow paps, you’re a natural,”
Sans said, grinning at his brother.

Papyrus scoffed, shaking his
head, but Edge could see how pleased he was beneath the façade. “WELL, OF
COURSE I AM, BROTHER. NOTHING IS A CHALLENGE FOR THE GREAT PAPYRUS—NOT EVEN
THIS FOOLISH TELEVISION GAME OF TENNIS.”

Edge glanced at Sans, a brow bone
raised in dubiety. But the shorter skeleton gave him a warning look, a faint
hint of magic prickling in his right eye socket. Rolling his eyes, Edge turned
back to Papyrus, his soul slumping slightly upon seeing that he’d begun to
struggle again. “Um, that’s good, Papyrus. Very good,” he muttered, his
cheekbones still burning from their recent proximity. Clearing his throat, and
very deliberately avoiding Sans and Red’s grins, he picked his own remote up
off the table. “Very well, I think that’s enough practice. Sans. Red. Get up
and prepare to lose!”

Much to both Edge and Papyrus’
disappointment, their brothers neither got up nor lost. In fact, Edge and
Papyrus barely managed to scrape a couple of points off them—despite putting in
their very best effort. When the final point was won, Sans grinned, rising from
the couch and stretching. “welp. all that exercise really took it outta me.
think i’m gonna head home and take a nap.”

Edge glowered at him, feeling
frustrated by the fact that he’d chosen the moment the game had finished to
finally rise from his seat. When he was gone, Red also hoisted himself up,
shooting his brother a grin. “hmm, you know what bro? i think we should discuss
a forfeit.”

“No forfeits this time, brother,”
Edge said, scowling at Red. “The punishment of losing to you is the shame.”
Edge caught sight of Papyrus grimacing slightly out of the corner of his eye,
and he suddenly felt guilty. He turned back to Red, crossing his arms. “Perhaps
next time—once every participant has had a fair
amount of practice—we’ll raise the stakes a little.”

“heh, yeah boss, i’m sure ya
wouldn’t mind a little more practice.” Red
winked, gaze flicking to Papyrus, and Edge glared at him, despite the sudden
rush of heat to his cheekbones. Shrugging, Red yawned. “ha, well. think i’m
gonna follow sans’ advice and take a nap. i’ve sure earned it.”

Before Edge could protest, Red
had popped out of the room, leaving Edge alone with Papyrus. He turned to the
uncharacteristically quiet skeleton, his soul clenching slightly at the sight
of the downtrodden look on Papyrus’ face. “Don’t worry, Papyrus,” he said,
hesitantly placing a hand on his alternate’s shoulder, “I’m certain we’ll be
victorious next time.”

Papyrus still looked unhappy, his
gaze fixed on the carpet. “Edge…” he said, slowly looking up. “Did I… did I let
us down?”

Edge felt as if he’d been struck
in the chest, guilt wracking him. Almost on instinct, he reached out, taking
both of Papyrus’ hands in his own. “N-no—no, of course you didn’t! I think… I
think perhaps you could just use a little more practice. And—and I’m more than
happy to help.”

Almost instantaneously, Papyrus’
expression lightened, his usual grin returning to his face. “Really? THAT’S
EXCELLENT.” He took a step closer, and Edge felt his eyes go wide as one of
Papyrus’ hands crept to his waist. “Because I definitely think I could use a
few more demonstrations, Edge.”

Hi! Congratulations for your milestone! :3 May I ask a 28, spicyhoney, please? I am kinda imagining Stretch asking this out of the blue, pretending not to be serious, but actually being serious and needing a bit of reassurance from the big scary edgelord. *No* alcool involved, tho. Eheh. ;) Thank you!

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Oh no. No alcohol means angst. This must definitely have been a Spicyhoney prompt since both you and @rhodyskele95​ requested it. I hope you like it! Thank you for sending in a request!

Warnings: brief discussion of death, mild feelings of inadequacy, basically just sad angsty stuff


Edge released a weary sigh as he
fumbled slightly with the keys in the front door. It had been a long day—a very long, tiresome day. His patrols
were becoming more and more demanding with the rising dissent between the
public and the Crown. Trying to shake off any lingering thoughts of work, Edge
pushed open the door, making sure to lock it behind him before discarding his
keys and pulling off his armour.

His gaze fell on the living room
sofa, and his soul immediately warmed. His husband, Stretch, was sprawled
across it, fast asleep, the TV still playing in front of him. Edge was grateful
that he’d tried to wait up for him, but he knew the lazier skeleton often
lacked the stamina required for long nights.

Not bothering to fight back the
small smile that curled the corners of his mouth, Edge flicked the TV off,
before gently lifting Stretch from the sofa and carrying him upstairs. The way
Stretch almost immediately reacted to his touch, curling against him, rapidly
sped up the process of wiping the troubles of Edge’s job from his mind.

Despite being married, it was
seldom that Edge and Stretch got to spend much time together. After many fights
and long arguments, they’d come to the (somewhat reluctant, on Stretch’s part)
agreement that it would be far too dangerous for Stretch to come live with Edge
here. And Edge refused to abandon his brother in a place like this. So, they
lived in their separate worlds. It was difficult, but having Stretch stay the
occasional night like this was a welcome relief from the everyday burdens of the
world outside.

After gently placing Stretch
beneath the covers of their (mostly) shared bed, Edge quickly changed, before joining
Stretch in the cozy warmth of the sheets. Pressing his chest against Stretch’s
back, and wrapping his arms tightly around him, Edge closed his eyes, more than
ready to fall asleep and forget the day.

His plans were immediately halted
when he felt Stretch stir in his arms, shuffling slightly and turning his head
to look at Edge. “you came home,” Stretch murmured, groggily.

Edge nodded, pressing a light
skeleton kiss to the back of his neck. “Of course I did. Now go back to sleep.”

Stretch hummed quietly, shifting
so that their bodies were pressed closer together. “thank you,” he whispered. A
small prickle of sorrow settled in Edge’s soul. He knew how much Stretch hated
it when he left, day after day, never knowing what state he would return in (if
he returned at all). For months, he’d tried to convince Edge to come and live
with him, but it had been a futile argument. Edge would never leave his
brother—or his world for that matter.

But, rather than acknowledge the
somber mood, Edge simply nodded, before allowing his eyes to fall closed again.
However, for the second time that night, Stretch shifted, turning all the way
round this time to face Edge, who sighed, feeling tired. “I assume sleep isn’t
on the agenda for tonight?” he asked, raising a brow bone. Stretch smirked, but
Edge could tell that it was forced—something was clearly bothering him.
“Alright, what is it?” he asked, giving Stretch a steady look.

Stretch shook his head, chuckling
weakly. “i think you’re supposed to ask me about the matter baby.”

Edge narrowed his eye sockets,
scrutinising the faint smirk on Stretch’s face. “The… matter baby?”

“nothing. what’s the matter
with—wait.”

Edge chuckled, cupping Stretch’s
face. “Nyeh heh. I’ve known you too long to fall into weak traps like that,” he
said, and Stretch rolled his eyes, pouting slightly.

“well. fuck me.”

Edge observed Stretch dubiously.
“Fuck me? That’s the best you can do?”

Stretch grinned. “i can do a lot
better than just fuck you, edgelord, you know that.”

Edge held Stretch’s gaze for a
moment, completely deadpan. Then he sighed, taking one of Stretch’s hands
beneath the covers. “I know you’re trying to avoid my question. Tell me, what’s
bothering you?”

Stretch shook his head, eyes
flickering away from Edge. “it’s nothing. don’t worry about it.”

Edge knew he was the last person to
be critical about not opening up, but he also knew it would do no good to
ignore this. Stretch wasn’t quite as subtle as Edge was when it came to hiding
his emotions—his preferred mode of deflection being poor attempts at joking.
So, gently lifting Stretch’s fingers to his teeth, and placing a small kiss on
the back of them, he said, “We’re supposed to be honest with each other, you
know.”

Stretch sighed, sounding
resigned. “okay, you want honesty? so, be honest with me for a minute. do you
like me?”

Edge regarded Stretch with bemusement.
“We’re married, Stretch. I think my feelings on the matter are pretty clear.”
Edge’s tone was sarcastic, but the lack of humour in Stretch’s eyes was
disconcerting.

“shit, edge, um…” Stretch was
suddenly looking very uncomfortable, shifting slightly where he was still
wrapped in Edge’s arms. “alright, look—you know i’m not exactly one to spill my
guts—heh.” Edge almost rolled his eyes at the pun, but quickly gathered his
composure, reminding himself that the irritating jokes were merely a cover for
whatever grim feelings Stretch was trying to hide. Seeming to realise that Edge
wasn’t going to deign him with so much as a grumble, Stretch cleared his
throat, continuing. “i, um… i’ve been feeling a bit like you…” Stretch sighed,
seeming to concede. “like you don’t want me around.”

Edge was genuinely stunned by the
confession, and for a moment, he was speechless, blinking. “I—what brought this
on? Of course I want you around!” he said, a little exasperated.

Stretch laughed, but the sound
was devoid of any real humour, leaving a pit of discomfort in Edge’s soul.
“really? ‘cause sometimes it feels an awful lot like you don’t.” Shaking his
head, Stretch sighed, the false smile slipping from his face. “i just mean, i…
i love you. and—and i know you love me too, it’s just…” Edge could tell Stretch
was struggling to maintain the façade of nonchalance he so often projected, and
he gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

“Tell me,” he said, quietly.

Swallowing heavily, Stretch
finally looked up, and Edge’s soul wilted at the sight of the tears beginning
to form in his eye sockets. “why—why don’t you want to live with me, edge?” His
voice was very small, as if he was struggling to get the words out.

Edge frowned, looking away. They’d
had this conversation a million times, and he hated it with every ounce of his
being. It forced him to think of reality, when all he wanted to do when he was
around Stretch was let go, and pretend that reality didn’t exist. “It’s… not
that easy, Stretch—we’ve been over this. You know I can’t leave my—”

“well—red could come live with
us,” Stretch offered. Guilt blossomed in Edge’s soul at the almost pleading
tone to Stretch’s voice. “i mean—it’s not that difficult, edge. i don’t
understand why you insist on staying in this—this shithole anyway. does it have
something to do with me? am i—am i not good enough?”

There was a desperation to
Stretch’s voice that told Edge he was struggling to hold it together. The guilt
within him grew, and he bit down against the heavy lump in his throat. “Look,
Stretch—I love you. I love being around you—you’re my escape, and I can’t—”
Edge broke off, clutching tightly onto Stretch’s hands and meeting his eye. The
gently falling tears there certainly didn’t help Edge’s crumbling will to keep
this up. “But you need to understand that this isn’t about you,” he continued,
doing his best to keep his voice even. “This isn’t even just about my
brother—it’s about all the monsters here. I can’t just abandon them; they need
me.”

“i need you,” Stretch choked,
a sudden sob escaping him. His tight grip on Edge’s hands was enough to give
away the fact that he no longer had his emotions under control. “edge, you have
no idea how important you are to me—you have no idea. and i—i can’t keep living my life day to day, wondering if
you’re going to come home or not. i can’t wake up to an empty bed in the
morning, wondering if it’s because you’ve run off somewhere and gotten
yourself—” Stretch gasped, the unspoken word lingering gravely in the air.

Edge could only pull him against
his chest as he sobbed, knowing that nothing he could say would make it better.
“It’s… It’s alright,” Edge soothed, the words feeling empty even as they left
his mouth. “I… I’m sorry, Stretch. I’m—I’m so sorry.” Edge’s own voice cracked,
and he pressed himself against Stretch, as if his closeness might quell the
despair in Edge’s soul.

He allowed Stretch to cry himself
to sleep, head still buried in his chest. This argument was ongoing, but Edge
had never seen Stretch break down so completely over it. The gloom within him
hung heavy over his soul, and he struggled to find sleep, even hours after
Stretch had drifted off.

So much for escaping the troubles
of the outside world.

rhodyskele95:

w-aeby:

One.. Two.. Three.. HAPPY BIRTHDAY @rhodyskele95 !!!!!! 🎉🎉🎉🎉
DUDE, you have been such a great friend since the first time we text each other!!! I am so fxcking grateful to have a friend like you!😄😄 So please! Accept this gift i draw for ya, i know its not much but at least i draw something for you! Really hope you like it boi! The top pic is the original (no edit) and the bottom pic is with edit!
I really wish i could draw something more bigger and awesome for you.. Cause damn you deserve it! But, i enjoy drawing this gift! I like how this turn out XD
Hope you like it! 😊😊

OMG😱 THANK YOU, YOU BUTT!😍😍😄. Guys go check out her blog! She draws so well!

@w-aeby