Tag: drabble request event

100 Follower Drabble Masterlist

alicedragons:

Hey everyone! These are all the “drabbles” (cough) I’ll be posting over the long weekend. I’ll try to do them in order but that might change! I’ll link them all here as I post them.

Thank you all!

Spicyhoney for cheapbourbon

Edgelord Supreme for sesurescue

Edgeberry for itsladykit

Kustard for anonymous

Spicyhoneybbq for anonymous (dignis-sin-bar)

Honeyketchup for happysushichan

Honeyblossom for ollie-wants-outie

Rottenjoke for blankphyer

Spicyhoney for shosia and rhodyskele95

Edgepuff for megalotrashy

Kedgeup for rhodyskele95

Honeyketchup for messedupessy

Expensivespicyhoneydog for anonymous

Edgeberry for ladylupin

Spicyhoney for anonymous

Mystery Pairing for ??? (this one is just me trying to be funny, don’t take it too seriously hehe)

There is a definite trend here. 13 of these ships involve either Stretch or Edge, or both. But hey, I’m not complaining! I love them!

Also, shout out (or call out?) to those people who asked me to pick between two or more prompts (you know who you are). As someone who is terrible at making decisions, you guys caused me a lot of suffering! Hehe, in seriousness though, I don’t really mind! I’ll probably come back to the ones I didn’t do another time, because as soon as I saw them, the ideas started churning.

Thanks again everyone, I hope you enjoy these!

My 100 Follower Celebration is officially over! Reblogging this again for anyone who missed any of these. I’ll stop spamming everyone’s dashboards now, sorry!

I’ll also be posting them all over on AO3 over the next week or so, so if you’d prefer to read them in that format, they’ll be there soon!

Thank you all so much for the lovely comments and kind support! I really wouldn’t have made it through all these without you. (Also, to anyone who sent in a request later, or multiple requests, I’ll be coming back to them as soon as I get a chance!)

I really had a lot of fun with this, so once again, thanks for all the encouragement! I’ll definitely consider doing something similar again in the future.

hope im not too late to request for the 100 follower drabble! congrats btw!! if not can i request 24 with spicyhoney? ; )

Happy 25th of December everyone! (It’s actually Boxing Day here, but my timezone is pretty far ahead). I hope you’re all having a wonderful day no matter what you’re celebrating (or not celebrating). This is the last short fic of my 100 follower celebration, and fittingly, it’s Spicyhoney. I still have a few requests that came in later, which I will definitely be coming back to at some point.

For now though, thank you to everyone for supporting me throughout this little event! Every reply, comment, and tag means so much to me, and it makes me so happy every time I hear someone is enjoying my writing.

Thank you for sending this one in anon! It ended up turning into another self-indulgent vampire AU, so it could be considered a prequel to this. I really hope you enjoy it!

Minor warning for brief description of violence.

“ouch, edgelord! mind going easy
on the ropes? i thought we were friends.”

Edge turned to give Stretch a
cold stare. “We’re not friends.
You’re the farthest thing from a friend I could imagine.” Edge injected as much
venom into his words as he could, yet somehow, it wasn’t enough to wipe the
humour from Stretch’s face.

The vampire shrugged, flashing
Edge a sharp-toothed grin. “could’ve fooled me. although i guess you tying me
up with silver laced rope and hauling me to a creepy motel in the middle of the
night is a little too kinky for a friendship. i’m more like your…” Stretch
smirked, leaning in slightly, “paramour.”

“Ugh.” Disgusted, Edge dragged
Stretch towards the dim light of the building. “Come on.” He truly wished he’d
chosen a less snarky vampire to take as his hostage in the middle of the night—honestly,
he’d take murderous over impudent any day.

As they reached the entrance to
the motel, Edge slipped a small silver knife out of his pocket, pressing it
against Stretch’s ribs. The vampire released a sharp hiss, but otherwise, his
grin remained plastered across his face. “maybe we should save this kind of
behaviour for the bedroom?” he murmured, eye-lights flashing.

Edge held his breath for a
moment, biting back the snappish response. Instead, he lowered his voice,
ensuring the threat was apparent. “If you try to escape, or give any indication
to anyone we encounter that you are my hostage—this goes directly in your
chest, am I understood?”

Stretch held his gaze for a
moment, his wily smile sending chills down Edge’s spine. Finally though, he nodded.
“understood.” Edge breathed a small, internal sigh of relief, though part of
him still feared resistance on Stretch’s part. One of the things that
constantly threw him off about the vampire, was his apparent lack of fear when
it came to threats, and Edge was neither subtle nor reserved when he threw them
around.

“Good,” he said, stiffly. “Don’t
leave my side.”

Stretch smirked, lifting his
bound wrists with a raised brow bone. “can’t.”

Edge glanced away, sighing.
“Right. Follow me, then… and keep your hands hidden.” He pushed open the door,
and they approached the front desk where a tired looking night clerk was
slumped over in their chair. “Good evening,” Edge greeted. “We—”

“room for two,” Stretch
interrupted, leaning against the countertop. The clerk glanced between them
dubiously, and then—to Edge’s utter shock—Stretch pressed closer to him,
resting his head on Edge’s shoulder. “please?” His tone was almost sickly
sweet, but Edge was too stunned to move, going completely rigid.

The clerk however, merely
shrugged, seeming only half awake as they pulled open a drawer with various
sets of keys. “Room number seventy,” they said, barely stifling a yawn.
“Check-out is at ten.”

“oh, we’ll be staying until tomorrow
evening,” Stretch said, that saccharine smile still colouring his features.
“we’re more than happy to pay for the extra night, right love?” He nudged Edge,
cocking a brow bone.

Edge barely managed to rouse
himself into giving a stiff nod. “Right,” he muttered. He still felt thoroughly
shaken, the knife in his hand trembling slightly where it grazed the fabric of
Stretch’s hoodie. He could almost sense the proximity of the vampire’s teeth to
his neck, and had to suppress a shudder.

Edge withheld his anger until
they reached the empty corridor beyond the lobby, where he forcefully slammed
Stretch against one of the walls. Stretch gasped sharply as Edge nudged the tip
of the knife against his cervical vertebrae, not caring that he drew a thin
trickle of marrow. “What the hell was that?”
Edge growled, malice dripping from his voice.

For once, Stretch seemed taken
off guard, which immensely satisfied Edge. “just making it more believable—” he
choked against the harsh press of the blade. “geez, asshole, calm down. you
think they would’ve given two shady guys a room in the middle of the night
unless they thought we were fucking? thought i was doing you a favour.”

“A favour?” Edge spat, incredulous. “You booked us in for an extra day! We
need to leave in the morning. I won’t be sticking around long enough for you
to fucking murder me!”

“stars, edge.” Stretch’s tone was
more exasperated than afraid, which only fuelled Edge’s outrage. “we can’t
leave in the morning. sunlight doesn’t exactly agree with me, remember?”

Edge blinked for a moment, realising
Stretch was right. Still, he felt hesitant removing the knife, and remained
rigid as he yanked Stretch forward by his hoodie. “Never do that again. You’re not the one in charge here, and I am not your friend.” Finally releasing him,
Edge narrowed his eye sockets, allowing the magic to flash in warning. “Know
your place, vampire. Or next time, I’ll give you more than just a little scrape
on the neck.”

Stretch looked like he was trying
not to smile, which did nothing to help Edge dispel his rage. “heh. necks
time?” Stretch muttered, amusement glinting in his eyes. Edge growled, gripping
him roughly by the shirt and repositioning the knife against his chest. “okay,
okay—shit, i’m sorry, i’ll shut up,” Stretch said quickly, lifting his bound
hands in surrender.

“Make sure that you do,” Edge
muttered, giving him a shove in the direction of their room. “Now hurry up, my
patience has already run out.” Stretch almost looked as if he wanted to
comment, but quickly seemed to think better of it.

When they reached room number
seventy, Edge kept the knife out, but lowered it as he slipped the key into the
lock. As soon as they entered the room, he felt his soul drop.

“ah, there seems to be only one
bed,” Stretch remarked casually, striding past him.

Edge sighed heavily, closing and
locking the door behind himself. “Well, of course there is. You made it seem
like we were… lovers.”

Edge tried very hard to ignore
the small smirk Stretch was giving him, instead pulling off his jacket and draping
it over the worn armchair in the corner of the room. He did his best not to
think about what the faded stains might be—they were on most of the linen in
the room. “well, guess i’m sleeping on the floor then,” Stretch said,
shrugging.

Edge turned, narrowing his eye
sockets. “No you’re not. Not a chance.”

Stretch tilted his head slightly
in question. “change of heart?”

Edge resisted the urge to give
another roll of his eye-lights, scowling. “If you think I’m stupid enough to
let you out of my sight, then—”

“oh, i see.” Stretch grinned,
winking.

Edge shook his head, pinching his
nasal ridge a little too hard, a small jolt of pain going through his skull. He
could already feel the oncoming headache. “We’ll both sleep on the floor.”

“well, that’s awfully illogical,”
Stretch scoffed, crossing his arms. “we may as well sleep outside and save
ourselves a few bucks.” Edge was very tempted to remark that it wasn’t their money, but figured he’d just be
opening himself up to another tirade of teasing.

He was beginning to lose the
energy for this argument, so releasing an exasperated sigh, he half spat,
“Fine. We’ll share the damn bed.” Stretch grinned, opening his mouth to speak,
but Edge cut him off. “But if you make another joke pertaining to our… affiliation with one another in the
bedroom, I will slice your throat in your sleep.” Stretch immediately snapped
his mouth shut, but his smirk didn’t fade. Figuring it was the best he could
hope for, Edge sighed wearily, pulling off his shoes and placing his small silver
blade on the nightstand beside the bed.

Not ten minutes later, he and
Stretch were lying side-by-side, the greatest possible distance between them
(although Edge couldn’t ignore the way Stretch kept shuffling closer to the
centre of the bed). Frowning at him for a moment, Edge reached over, undoing
the bonds on his hands. Stretch glanced at him, sitting up, and Edge instantly
went for the knife, holding it steadily before him in warning. Stretch rolled
his eyes, slumping back onto the bed. “relax, edgelord, i’m not going
anywhere.”

Edge swallowed, realising he’d
probably overreacted. Still, he didn’t let go of the knife until he’d safely
secured one of Stretch’s wrists to the headboard of the double bed. Stretch’s
teeth were gritted, and at first Edge thought he might be in pain, but then he gave
a groan of frustration. “stars—i can’t believe you banned bedroom jokes, you
asshole.” He looked at Edge, seeming genuinely distraught by the fact. “i mean
you literally just tied me to the
bed.”

Edge turned over, mumbling a
cursory, “Goodnight,” before closing his eyes, and trying his best to find
sleep. He soon found that he could hear Stretch’s breathing through the still
silence, but rather than unsettling him, he found it oddly… calming. It almost
allowed him to believe that Stretch was mortal, not some undead creature who
had probably killed more people than Edge had met. Disregarding the thought, he
tried to relax, knowing he’d need to get at least some sleep before the
morning, or there was no chance he’d be able to handle Stretch for an entire
day.

Just as he’d begun to drift off,
he felt Stretch shifting beside him, turning over and rustling the covers.
Growling under his breath, Edge muttered, “Do you mind? Some of us enjoy
sleeping in peace.”

Stretch sighed, grumbling
slightly. “sorry, edgy. sleeping at night doesn’t really agree with me. my
magic’s a bit… restless. this feels kinda weird.”

“Weird?” Edge almost laughed, the
situation a little too bizarre for him. “That doesn’t begin to describe it. I’m
literally sleeping with my enemy.”

Edge could hear Stretch chuckling
softly, the sound smooth, and oddly… nice. “thought we weren’t allowed to make
those kinds of jokes? they back in?”

Sighing, Edge turned over,
shaking his head. “Goodnight, Stretch.”

Stretch was silent again, for
which Edge was grateful. Preferably, he’d like to pretend the vampire wasn’t
there at all. The mere idea that he was in bed with him chilled Edge’s soul a
little—but it stirred something else as well. Something Edge was very
vehemently trying to ignore.

“hey, edge?”

“What?” Edge growled, exasperated.

“thanks for not killing me.”

This took Edge off guard. He
almost pointed out that capturing Stretch was far worse, given the things he
could do with him, but in truth, he wasn’t entirely sure why he hadn’t killed him. He’d never been one
to spare Stretch’s kind—he had no interest in rewards, knowing full well that
there were no honest buyers when it came to vampires.

So that begged the question—why
had he shown Stretch mercy? Edge had been hunting him for a while now—perhaps
more out of spite than anything. And Stretch was a difficult monster to find…
Edge almost wondered if he’d wanted to
be found this time. Still, he should have seized the opportunity. Done away
with him immediately, and spared the world from another creature of the night.

But… something had stopped him.
It hadn’t felt right. As if he’d been missing something. Or as if he might have
regretted going through with it. It made him feel uncomfortable, uncertain.
Sparing Stretch went against his whole life’s purpose, yet he’d done it anyway.
And somehow, it hadn’t felt wrong.

Edge stiffened, dismissing the
train of thought. Instead, he closed his eyes once again, the sound of
Stretch’s shallow breaths breaking the almost dead silence of the night. Sighing
deeply, Edge conceded, murmuring a quiet, “You’re welcome,” before allowing
himself to drift off, feeling comfortable despite being mere inches away from
the monster he was struggling to convince himself he still hated.

1. “If I can’t have you, no one can.” For Edgeberry!! Congrats on the milestone, Alice! You’re an incredible writer!

Thank you for sending this in, precious girl! I’ll be watching you 🙂 Ignore me.

Ramblings ahead. Feel free to skip over them and go straight to the fic. Just needed to express some feelings about this one before getting into it.

So, I just wanted to say, that I tried very hard not to turn this into a
Yandere fic, but with this prompt, it was pretty difficult not to. This
one isn’t my usual style, and I honestly don’t think I’ll write Blue’s
character like this again. He came off as a bit of a brat, and I don’t really like that sort of characterisation of him. I may just not have written him very well, but I’ll let you guys be the judge of that! Overall though, I’m not entirely sure how I did with this—I honestly spent
the longest on this one because I couldn’t figure out how I wanted to approach
it. I went with the Yandere style in the end, but I’m not sure if I really did
it justice! D:

Anyway, I
hope you still enjoy! Yandere stuff isn’t really my thing, but I know some people like it, and I can appreciate that!

(I would also just like to note
that I’m not trying to romanticise this kind of relationship at all. The kind
of possessiveness I’m portraying here is very unhealthy. So yeah, warnings for
possessive behaviour, emotional manipulation, and coerced social isolation. Also, there is a very brief, non-graphic description of violence, but it’s nothing too heavy. It’s in the last italicised paragraph if anyone wants to skip it!)

Blue turned the knife over in his hand, the silver blade concealed
behind his back as he smiled sweetly, examining Edge, who was kneeling before
him. ‘So, have you come to a decision?’

Edge nodded, his head remaining bowed. ‘I have.’

‘And?’ Blue stepped forward, delicately hooking two fingers
beneath Edge’s chin and tilting his face upward. ‘Will you be joining me? Or
are you my enemy?’

Edge was silent, the seconds ticking by as Blue awaited his
answer. Eventually, he looked up, holding Blue’s gaze steadily. ‘I will not be
joining you, Captain.’

Blue remained motionless for a moment, watching Edge as he searched
for any sign of uncertainty, despite knowing he wouldn’t find any. Finally, he
nodded, drawing away. ‘I see,’ he said, humming his acknowledgement and pushing
down the flicker of rage within him. ‘So you are my enemy then. Such a pity.’
Edge’s eyes went wide as Blue revealed the knife, not hesitating as he sliced
it across Edge’s throat. He leaned in as Edge collapsed, a sick smile twisting
across his face. ‘Because if I can’t have you, no one can.’

 

“Blue, you bastard!” Edge cried,
shoving Blue off the sofa as the cutscene ended and his screen displayed the
game over text. “You promised you wouldn’t kill me if I changed teams!”

Blue giggled, scrambling back
onto the sofa as Edge glared at him. “Well, you promised you wouldn’t betray
me! Fair is fair, Edge!” The taller skeleton mumbled something unsavoury under
his breath, and Blue frowned. “Hey! There will be no cursing in my living room.
Even for losers!” He grinned as Edge pinned him with a cold stare, before
rolling his eyes and rising from the sofa.

“Fine,” he said, looking
resolute. “I suppose we’d better go to your bedroom, then. I’m allowed to curse
there, right?” Blue felt his cheekbones heating, and he glared as Edge smirked
at him.

Still, he wasn’t about to let his
victory be tainted by Edge’s callous flirting, and he puffed himself up,
standing and meeting Edge’s gaze. “Very well! I’m certain we can find another
game to play.” Blue only realised the implications of his words after they’d
left his mouth, and if the crimson blush that spread across Edge’s face was any
indication, he’d heard it too. While Blue was a little embarrassed by his slip,
he always enjoyed seeing Edge blush. He quickly cleared his throat, shaking his
head with a laugh. “Well, what I meant was—we could play chess. Or…”

“Oh—there’s no need to worry
yourself, Blue,” Edge said, quickly, smiling despite the magic that still
coloured his cheekbones. “I’m meeting Razz to discuss some…” he grimaced,
“business matters, so I should probably get going.”

Blue tried not to let the dejection
show on his face. A sick twist of jealousy formed in his soul, and he
swallowed, trying his best to force a smile. “Oh. Of course.” Even to himself,
his words sounded stiff. He shook his head, laughing in a way that didn’t sound
anywhere near light-hearted. “I mean—you did only just get here, but that’s
fine.” Blue glanced away from Edge, gritting his teeth slightly against the
anger boiling within him. Blue hated it when Edge went back to his awful
world—and visiting someone as abhorrent as Razz was almost twice as bad. An
even darker part of Blue feared that Edge preferred the company of that awful
copy of him, but he did his best to push the thought down, reassuring himself
that Edge had better taste than that.

He caught sight of the flicker of
guilt on Edge’s face, and the beginnings of uncertainty crossing his features.
“I’m sorry, Blue. I…” He looked uncomfortable, scratching his shoulder as he
glanced at the door.

Blue could tell he was starting
to question himself, and he smiled sweetly, shaking his head. “It’s no bother,
Edge! You are my best friend, but
that doesn’t mean we can’t spend time apart. Go, if it’s what you really want.”
Blue held Edge’s gaze, observing the exact moment that his resolve seemed to
cave.

He sighed, shaking his head and
smiling at Blue. “No, it’s alright. I did only just get here—I can just
reschedule. I’ll stay.”

Blue’s soul fluttered in his
chest, and he grinned, feeling triumphant. Before Edge could react, Blue was
throwing his arms around his waist, hugging him tightly. “Oh, Edge, thank you!
I promise to make our time together worthwhile.” He looked up at a slightly
startled Edge, giggling at the pale crimson blush on his cheeks. “Now,” he
said, taking Edge’s hand and guiding him towards the stairs, “how about we go
upstairs and play a game?” Blue knew full well that his words alone would be
enough to make Edge blush—and he took every opportunity to use it to his
advantage. He enjoyed seeing the normally rigid skeleton thrown slightly off
guard, especially if it meant Blue got to see him looking so flustered.

Edge gave a small laugh, Blue’s
soul leaping at the sound. Still blushing, Edge said, “Alright, Blue. Let’s see
if I feel like letting you win again.”

Blue shot Edge a glare over his
shoulder as he led him to his bedroom. “You and I both know I earned my
victory! It’s not my fault you were foolish enough to betray me!” Blue couldn’t
deny, a small part of him had been hurt by the fact that Edge had chosen not to
remain on his team—despite the fact that it was only a silly video game. If
Edge noticed the veiled hint of grudging in Blue’s tone however, he didn’t
comment, only giving another soft chuckle, and regarding Blue with something
akin to endearment. The look made Blue’s soul warm a little, and he smiled to
himself, feeling assured that Edge had simply turned against Blue for the sake
of the game.

As Blue scrambled through the
various puzzles in his desk drawer in search of his chessboard, Edge sat on his
bed, glancing around the room curiously. “Your room is in pristine condition,
Blue,” he commented. “It’s rather refreshing being in the presence of a Sans
who isn’t happy to live in his own squalor.”

Blue preened, a faint dusting of
cyan colouring his cheeks. “Well, of course it is!” he said, beaming. “I always
look after the things I care about.” He met Edge with a pointed look, but the
taller skeleton only frowned in mild confusion. Blue shook his head, releasing
a small laugh as he extracted his chessboard. “Anyway, let’s play. So I can
defeat you again!”

He grinned, plopping down beside
Edge on the bed and laying out the chessboard and pieces. Before long, they
were both deeply enthralled by the intense match. A lot of concentration always
went into their games, and Blue found it refreshing playing chess against
someone other than his brother for a change. As much as he loved Stretch, he
had an awful tendency to allow Blue to win simply out of fear of upsetting him.

Blue couldn’t help but admire the
enraptured expression Edge always wore when he was concentrating. He liked
this, when it was just the two of them. He loved having Edge’s undivided
attention—and even more than that, he loved to have Edge close by. It always
pained him to see Edge go back to his own barbaric world, always leaving Blue
with the unsettling fear that he might never see him again. But right now, in
Blue’s presence, Edge was safe, and Blue relished in that fact.

Their game passed without event
for about ten minutes or so, until Edge broke the silence by saying, “So, I,
uh… have a date tonight.”

Blue’s gaze shot up from the
board, a wild fury igniting in his soul. Edge was looking sheepish, blushing
again. But this time, Blue felt no sense of affection at the sight, only a cold
anger and betrayal deep in his soul. He tried to push it back, smoothing over
his features into a wide, but very forced, smile. “Oh. How nice.” Blue could
hear the stiffness of his own voice, but considering the almost overwhelming
urge to lash out he was experiencing, he considered it a victory.

Edge shrugged half-heartedly,
eyes still fixed on the board. “I suppose.”

Blue narrowed his eye sockets
slightly. Edge didn’t sound particularly enthused at the prospect of his date.
That was… promising. Forcing his most saccharine smile back onto his face, Blue
tilted his head inquisitively. “Who is it? Surely no one could possibly be
great enough to meet your standards!”

A weak smile crossed Edge’s
features, and he shook his head, still not looking up. “It’s no one really,
just someone I met up in the Capital.”

Blue’s smile faltered slightly,
and his soul lurched uncomfortably. “The Capital in… your world?” Edge nodded
wordlessly, his attention still on the chessboard. But by now, Blue had all but
forgotten the game, a foul jealousy resurfacing within him. “Edge, are you
certain you don’t want to just cancel it?” Edge finally looked up, cocking a
brow bone in dubiety. Blue quickly shook his head, laughing dryly. “Well, of
course it’s your decision, but I’m only telling you this because I care about
you. I just—I don’t want to see you get hurt.” I don’t want you to leave me, Blue wished he could say.

“Don’t worry about me, Blue,”
Edge said, smiling reassuringly. “I can take care of myself, you know that.”

But Blue felt anything but
convinced, frowning up at Edge. He was beginning to feel frustrated. Why wasn’t
Edge listening to him? Couldn’t he tell that Blue was only trying to protect
him? “I only want what’s best for you,” Blue said, his voice strained. “I hate
seeing you go back to that—to that vile place
you call home. I—I just want to keep you safe.” Blue could feel his control and
patience beginning to dwindle. Even as Edge placed a gentle hand on Blue’s arm,
meeting his gaze with sympathy, he could feel the cruel twist of malcontent in
his chest.

“It’s alright, Blue,” Edge
soothed, looking slightly troubled by the expression on Blue’s face. “I know
that you do. I understand what it’s like, but—”

“No, you don’t understand!” Blue
cried, finally snapping. “You don’t know what it’s like watching your best
friend abandon you day after day! You don’t know what it’s like feeling as if
the world is trying to steal him away from you!”

Edge looked stunned, flinching
slightly as Blue watched him, furious tears building in his eye sockets. “Blue,
I—I’m sorry, I never realised—”

“I’m so sick of feeling like you
don’t care about me!” Blue could no longer control the tirade of frustration he
was letting out—finally speaking the words he never thought he’d dare utter.
“I—I don’t want anyone else to have you. I
want you. I want you to be mine! I
want you to—” Suddenly, Blue broke off, realising he’d said too much. Edge was
looking alarmed, something almost fearful crossing his face. Blue felt panic
rising within him, and he quivered, allowing the tears to flow freely down his
face. “Oh, Edge I—I’m so sorry!” he whimpered, shaking his head. “I—I don’t
know what came over me, I’m sorry. Oh, stars, I shouldn’t have—”

“Blue, stop, it’s…” Edge
hesitantly reached out, and Blue could see his hands shaking slightly. “It’s
okay. I’m right here. It’s fine—I’m right here with you.”

Blue
watched Edge for only a moment before pressing forward, burying his face in
Edge’s chest. He clung tightly onto Edge, as if he might be snatched away at
any moment. Blue needed this. He
needed Edge. He needed to feel his presence. It felt right. And Blue never
wanted to let go.

So, about halfway through writing these “drabbles”, I noticed the severe lack of Slim–I only received two requests involving him, both for poly relationships. I honestly loved all the ships I got, but god damn, this boy needs some extra love, so here I am, requesting it of myself. So, Alice, can I get some uuhhh, platonic Swapfell bros with prompt 35? And maybe throw in some angst, you really don’t write enough of it.

^^You sure can, stranger.

I’m sorry guys, I still have two other requests to post, but this one is pretty heavy, and I thought it might not be quite a fitting Christmas story to end on. So I’m doing it now to get the angst out of the way.

This was mostly just me practising at writing these two, since I plan on doing more of them in my later works. I hope I did alright with it, but definitely heed the warnings.

Implied self-harm, intrusive thoughts, emotional abuse, feelings of worthlessness, domestic abuse (non-physical, although it could be interpreted that way).

There’s no happy stuff here, I’m afraid.

Slim’s fingers trembled slightly
as he fumbled with the key, barely remaining steady for long enough to slip it
into the lock. He knew his brother would be back by now, and Slim only dared
imagine what his punishment might be for arriving home this late. He pushed
open the front door slowly, trying not to make a sound as he crept across the
living room towards the stairs.

He’d barely placed his foot on
the bottom step when he heard a sigh from somewhere behind him. He turned,
glimpsing his brother’s violet eye-lights near the sofa through the dark room.
He immediately went rigid, shoulders slumping slightly as he ducked his head.
He caught sight of the flicker of irritation in Razz’s eyes, his expression
bland as he regarded Slim. “Dog. Come, sit. We’re going to talk.”

Slim flinched slightly at the
name. Razz seldom used it anymore unless they were in the company of others—or
when he was truly furious. The uncanny levelness of his voice was equally
disconcerting. Slim had grown to prefer when his brother yelled at him to when
he used that unnaturally calm tone.

Knowing better than to protest,
he cautiously approached, feeling himself shrink beneath his brother’s harsh
gaze. He sat beside him on the sofa, keeping his gaze averted. Silence hung
heavily between them for a few moments, and Slim didn’t dare break it. If Razz
had something to say, he would say it in his own time, and Slim knew better
than to speak out of turn. Eventually, Razz leaned back, knuckles cracking as
he flexed them. “Let me guess. You were with those weak versions of us you like
to call your friends?”

Slim went still, before nodding
slowly, keeping his head ducked, and his gaze fixed on the carpet. Razz
scoffed, shaking his head. “Pathetic.” He fell silent once more, and Slim could
feel his piercing gaze boring into him. He yearned to reach into his jacket for
his small pocket knife—but that could wait until later. For now, he opted to
dig his fingers into his femurs to stop them from shaking.

A subtle glance at his brother
told him that it had been a long work day for Razz… again. Fresh cuts and dents
littered his arms, and while Slim knew they would likely heal with time, there
was no denying they were causing his brother pain. Razz always projected his
physical pain verbally, behaving a lot more sharply towards Slim. Perhaps Slim
may have gotten away with arriving home so late on a normal day—but recently,
Razz had been scheduling more and more formal visits with the Queen, and Slim
knew better than to doubt her cruelty.

“So,” Razz said at last, breaking
the cold silence between them, “dare I venture a guess as to why you didn’t bother
to tell me where you were? Or perhaps you were hoping I wouldn’t find out?”

Razz tapped his fingers
impatiently on the arm of the sofa as Slim struggled to find his words, his
voice caught in his throat. “i w… wasn’t…” The words came out strained, barely
audible, even in the dead quiet of their house.

Razz sighed in frustration.
“Speak up, mutt,” he snapped. “I don’t have time to waste on your pathetic
mumbling.”

Slim nodded quickly, dipping his
head lower as shame seemed to crush him. “s-sorry,” he whispered, scratching at
the coarse fabric of the couch. “i wasn’t… wasn’t t-trying to…” He swallowed,
breathing heavily as he tried to gather his resolve. “i wouldn’t lie to… to
you, my lor—c-captain.” Slim pulled his jacket tighter around his shoulders,
still not daring to meet Razz’s gaze. He knew Razz hated it when Slim got his
title wrong—especially since Razz was still trying to prove that he was worthy
of it. More than once, the Queen had threatened to demote him because of
‘incompetence’.

Fortunately this time, Razz was
either too tired, or too preoccupied with more important things to scold Slim
for slipping up. “Well?” he said, impatience seeping into his tone. “Why didn’t
you tell me, then? Need I remind you, mutt, omission is a form of lying—and I
do not have the time to deal with your
deception on top of the deception of every other monster in this forsaken
place.”

Slim hurriedly nodded, scrambling
to find his words. “o-of course, captain. i d-didn’t mean—i didn’t… i’m sorry.
you were just… just s-so busy—i didn’t want to disturb you…” Slim’s words
trailed off into quiet muttering, and he wrapped his arms around himself,
bracing himself for his brother’s wrath.

But to his surprise, Razz was
silent. A brief glance at him revealed that he wasn’t even looking at Slim, his
gaze fixed on the dim room in front of him, appearing contemplative. Slim
ducked his head, wishing for nothing more than to retreat to his room, where he
could be alone, and not have to think. About
how pathetic he was. How useless. About how much of a burden he was to his
brother. His fingers twitched toward the small knife in his pocket, but he
clenched them into a fist, pushing down the urge.

When Razz finally spoke again,
Slim flinched, almost startled by the sound. “Yes. I was busy.” Slim caught
sight of him turning, fixing his gaze on Slim. “Busy filling out my reports.
Busy running errands for the Queen. Busy gathering as much information as I
could on the whereabouts of that barbaric lizard and her fish bitch. Busy
reinforcing the defences on our house. Look at me, dog.”

For a moment, Slim was still,
frozen out of fear of what he might see if he met his brother’s gaze. But he
couldn’t disobey a direct order, especially not when Razz was so clearly
straying near the edge. The precipice he barely kept clear of most of the time,
his LOVE always sparking at the smallest of triggers. Slim turned slowly,
keeping his gaze averted. “I said look at
me,” Razz hissed, hand suddenly gripping firmly onto Slim’s jaw, tilting
his face upward. Slim could feel himself shaking. While Razz’s hold wasn’t
painful, it was full of malicious intent, and Slim could tell he was struggling
to hold himself together. “Who do you think I do those things for, mutt?” Razz
asked, his tone dropping, but losing none of its sharpness.

“captain…” Slim murmured, barely
managing to choke the word out. He took a few quick breaths, trying to steady
his shaking hands and his racing soul. “i know your… your love for our queen
is… u-unrivalled.”

Razz released a dry laugh,
releasing Slim’s jaw harshly. “Oh, you poor, pathetic dog. You’ve been taking
my necessary grovelling too seriously.” Slim couldn’t risk looking away from
Razz now, but he wished more than anything that he could. There was an empty
look in his brother’s eyes, exhaustion set so heavily in his features. “I
wouldn’t lift a finger for that vile excuse of a ruler if I didn’t have to. Do
you really think I spend day after day, bleeding myself dry for that bitch?”
Razz spat the word slightly, and Slim flinched, shaking his head.

“i—i don’t… no, captain.”

Razz scoffed, folding his arms.
“You really have no idea, do you? Well. Let me spell it out for you, since
you’re clearly too stupid to comprehend anything.”
Slim cowered as Razz leaned in, refusing to allow Slim to avert his gaze, his
cold eye-lights harsh and piercing. “I do it, for you. All of this—” Razz indicated vaguely at their surroundings “—I
did it all, for you, little puppy.”

Slim couldn’t help it. He
released a strained sob, the beginnings of tears threatening his eye sockets.
He wasn’t sure if it was the nickname—which had once possessed so much
affection—or simply the confession itself, but he could feel himself breaking.
Predictably, Razz did not take his weakness lightly, sneering as Slim shakily
wiped at the tears, which now fell freely. “Pathetic. Absolutely pathetic. You
can’t even hold yourself together for five damn minutes.”

Razz lifted himself from his
seat, brushing himself off smoothly as he observed his brother with mild
disgust. “You need me, dog. I’m the only thing standing between you and the
hundreds of monsters who would gladly eat you alive or dust you for what little
EXP you’re worth.”

Slim hugged himself tightly, as
if he might somehow be able to keep himself stable if he did so. As if he might
be able to stop himself from falling to pieces in front of his brother. But he
felt empty. Weak. Useless—so useless. Almost
without his consent, his fingers curled around the blade in his pocket, wincing
as its sharp edge dug into the bone.

If Razz noticed his distressed
whimper of pain, he didn’t show it. Turning towards the stairs, he muttered,
“Go back to those friends of yours if you must. They certainly deserve you a
lot more than I do.”

can you write something with cheapbourbons ot4 papcest ship? Number 8? For the writing prompt thing? It would be cool to see written in your style! Thanks.

This one ended up being a bit shorter, I’m sorry! I got too overwhelmed at having so many Papy’s at my mercy. I also have to thank @cheapbourbon (of course!) for providing inspiration for this. I sort of based it on this lovely piece of artwork. This ship is truly glorious, and Bourbon’s artwork will always inspire me!

Thank you for sending in this request, anon! It was a bit more difficult juggling four characters at once, but I had fun with it. I hope you enjoy it!

Edge dropped back onto the plush
seats of the nightclub’s VIP sofas, exhaustion already wearing on his mind. The
cushions shifted as his boyfriend sat down beside him, slinging an arm over
Edge’s shoulders. “sorry, love,” Slim murmured, pressing his teeth against
Edge’s cheekbone. “am i driving you a little insane?”

Edge released a tired laugh,
shaking his head as he leaned into Slim. “Well, if keeping my sanity was my
goal, then I made a very poor choice coming here with you.” Slim grinned,
cupping Edge’s face and kissing him softly. Edge sighed, feeling some of the
tension seeping from his bones. “Still,” he said, as Slim drew away, “I suppose
I should count myself lucky—you are the most tolerable of my boyfriends.”

A sheepish grin crossed Slim’s
features and he chuckled awkwardly, amber rising to his cheekbones. “well, uh,
it’s funny you should say that actually…”

Edge’s gaze snapped up
immediately, and he pinned Slim with a frown. “What did you do, Slim?”

Slim shook his head, drawing
himself into his jacket slightly and pulling up his hood. He had a habit of becoming
a little reserved when Edge raised his voice too much—something the typically
loud skeleton was working on. But despite his demure nature, Slim was still
smirking slightly, and Edge narrowed his eye sockets in suspicion. “who do you
think got us into this place?” Slim murmured softly, releasing a small laugh at
the utter horror that must have crossed Edge’s features.

As if on cue, a set of bony hands
covered Edge’s eye sockets, a rough voice whispering against his skull, “guess
who, sweetheart?”

Prying the hands off, Edge spun
around, scowling at the intruder. Cash grinned, leaning forward and taking a
hold of Edge’s skull. “What the fuck are you doing here, asshole?” Edge
grumbled. He didn’t protest however when Cash lightly pressed their teeth
together, although Edge made the mistake of allowing him to deepen the kiss. Cash
tended to get a little… enthusiastic if given too much leeway.

“ugh, get a room you two.” Cash
pulled away, smirking over Edge’s shoulder. Edge turned, his soul clenching as
he saw Stretch striding towards them, hands in his pockets, and… a cigarette
between his fingers. Naturally.

“oh, we will,” Cash said,
winking. “and yer more than welcome to join us, love.” Stretch grinned,
dropping between Edge and Slim, who observed the other three silently,
amusement sparkling in his eyes. Edge shot Slim a glare, despite knowing full he
wouldn’t have been able to stop the other two from invading their private
moment if he’d wanted to. Cash swung over the back of the sofa, seating himself
beside Edge and leaning over to frown at Stretch. “so, how’d ya get in here,
anyway? i know damn well i didn’ give ya a VIP pass, darlin’.”

Stretch tilted his head, offering
Cash a sweet smile. “told them i was you.”

Slim snickered, pressing his
sleeve over his mouth as irritation flicked across Cash’s features. He scoffed,
withdrawing to lean against Edge. “please. there’s no way they bought that. yer
not attractive enough to be me.”

Stretch held Cash’s gaze for a moment,
a vindictive expression slowly making its way onto his face. “just for that—i’m
not fucking you tonight.”

Cash sneered, but Edge could see
the flicker of disappointment beneath the expression. “whatever, edgy’s better
in bed than you anyway.” He turned to Edge, smoothing his pointed fingers over
Edge’s vertebrae. “aren’t you, precious?~”

“Ugh, I’m better than all of
you,” Edge muttered, shoving Cash away. There was a wild look in Cash’s eyes
that only emerged when he was truly excited about something. His gaze darted
over the other three skeletons, and he smiled with actual sincerity—a look one
seldom got to see on his face.

“hey. ’s been too long since
we’ve all been t’gether,” he said, eyes flashing ecstatically.

“There’s a reason for that,” Edge
mumbled, trying to push back the impending headache.

Beside him, Stretch released a
small laugh, nuzzling against Edge’s shoulder. “you need to loosen up,
edgelord. or we might start to think you don’t want us here.”

Edge looked up, meeting Stretch’s
gaze. Though his tone was light, Edge knew he often passed off his deeper
insecurities as humour. Sighing, Edge shook his head. “You know I love you all.
You can just be a little…”

“insatiable?” Slim suggested,
taking a quick sip of his drink, his expression conveying nothing but innocence
as he observed Edge with a smile, amber eyes glinting.

“Overwhelming,” Edge
corrected, trying to ignore Cash and Stretch’s quiet snickers. He sighed,
leaning back and letting his eyes fall closed. He’d come here anticipating only
having to entertain Slim—which was quite enough for him. But here he was, all
three of his boyfriends on his hands for the evening—and as much as Edge loved
them, he wasn’t sure how long his sanity would hold out.

Seeming to sense the stresses
warring at his mind, Stretch leaned against him, withdrawing his pack of
cigarettes from the pocket of his dirty hoodie. Edge glanced at them in mild
disgust before scowling and turning away. “No, thank you,” he said, dryly.

Stretch chuckled, extracting one
anyway. “hey, come on, it’ll take the edge off…” Edge rolled his eyes as
Stretch failed to stifle a snicker. “ah, sorry, but—you know. it’ll help.” Edge
remained unimpressed by Stretch’s offer, folding his arms resolutely.

Cash however, didn’t share his
qualms about smoking, and reached over, taking the cigarette from Stretch.
“well, if he won’t, i will,” he said, grinning as he pulled out his lighter.

Feeling his patience ticking
away, Edge growled, snatching the box from Stretch. “Fine—fine. I’ll have one of your
stars damned sticks of death. Just… be quiet for the next ten minutes.” He
turned a pointed glare on Cash, who shrugged, feigning innocence.

Stretch offered him a light,
smirking slightly, to which Edge responded with little more than a roll of his
eyes. He didn’t quite have the energy for an argument anyway. Taking a long
drag from the cigarette, Edge allowed the smoke to curl within his ribcage, and
immediately felt the relaxing effects taking over. He wasn’t quite sure what
went into Stretch’s cigarettes, and quite frankly, he was a little afraid to
ask. As always though, the results were phenomenal, a wave of calm spreading
from his soul outwards.

He barely flinched this time when
Cash leaned against him, resting his head on Edge’s shoulder. “y’know…” he
murmured, eyes closed as he shuffled to press himself against Edge, smoke
streaming from his parted teeth, “you can be pretty cuddly when ya wanna be,
edge. i like it.”

For once, Edge didn’t bother
trying to come up with a witty retort, instead nodding wordlessly, soul warming
as Cash curled up against him, head on his lap and arms wrapped around his
waist. Cash had never been one for conventional sleeping positions.

On his left, Edge caught sight of
Slim burying his head in Stretch’s chest, the latter chuckling quietly and
smoothing his hands over Slim’s skull. Affection blossoming within him, Edge
leaned over, touching his teeth lightly against Stretch’s. A smile crossed
Stretch’s face, and he rested his head on Edge’s shoulder, breathing deeply.
“you’re too good to us, edge,” he mumbled, his voice already heavy with sleep.

Edge released a quiet laugh,
shaking his head as he pressed a light kiss to the top of Stretch’s skull. “You
deserve it,” he whispered, allowing himself to smile as he felt Slim lacing
their fingers together, watching him quietly from where he was still pressed
against Stretch. Edge gave his hand a small squeeze, and wrapped an arm around
Cash, drawing him closer. “All of you,” he said, softly, his eyes finally
drifting closed as he succumbed to sleep. “You’re worth every second.”

Sup ali (͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) first just want to say thank you for almost always reblogging my stuff, it makes me so happy when you do and also that you are awesome and your writing so good, gonna try to read more of it soon, congrats on the followers u deserve them and more! for the drabble request thing, could i maybe get some HoneyKetchup in either 50, 24 or 38? wants it to be funny, fluffy, and them been just joking dorks, nsfw is ok but not a must and i’m a sucker for sleepy cuddles :D hope this is ok

Aww thank you! I’m always happy to see your wonderful art on my dash – you and I share a mutual love of Swap Papy. I went with 24 for this one (even though I actually got another request for it as well) because damn, I’m a sucker for sleepy cuddles as well. I honestly might come back and do the other ones another time though because I can see them being really cute for this pair as well!

Anyway, I’ll stop rambling. I hope you enjoy this!

Warning for mild sexual content and really bad puns.

The cab driver seemed more than
grateful to see Sans and Stretch go as they clambered from the vehicle. Stretch
was fairly certain the third “cab we please pull over? i gotta hit the can,”
had been the tipping point, but in truth, he’d seemed pretty miffed with them
from the start.

“heh, think we might have driven
him a little crazy,” Sans said, chuckling as they approached the large hotel
doors.

“yeah,” Stretch agreed, grinning.
“we might wanna steer clear of that guy for a while.”

Sans returned his smile, shoving
his hands into the pockets of his dirty jacket as they entered the hotel’s
lobby. Stretch had to admit, he felt a little out of place in the extravagant
hall, wearing nothing but his usual hoodie, shorts and sneakers. A small glance
at Sans told him that the shorter skeleton didn’t seem to share his anxieties,
a relaxed grin on his face. Almost as if he could sense Stretch’s apprehension,
Sans looked up, shaking his head. “bit over the top, isn’t it?”

Stretch smirked, cocking a brow
bone. “everything’s over the top for you though, isn’t it? hehe.”

Sans regarded him for a moment,
his grin turning dark as his eye-lights shrunk. “hey, i love you man, but a
short joke? low blow.”

Stretch tried to pass of the
small noise of surprise that escaped him as a laugh, quickly looking away to
conceal the faint tinge of magic in his cheekbones. Sans had meant that in a… friendly way, of course. Friends could
love each other. That’s definitely what he’d meant. Stretch tried not to feel
disappointed at the thought.

It was only once they’d collected
their key from reception, and were standing outside their room that Stretch
began to feel nervous. The clerk had informed them that they wouldn’t be able
to check into the second room until their brothers arrived, since it was under
Papyrus’ name. Which meant that Stretch would be sharing a room with Sans for
the night. Which was fine—of course. There was no reason to feel uncomfortable
about sharing a room with your… friend.

When the door swung open however,
Stretch felt his soul go cold.

“ah,” Sans said, casting a glance
over the room, “there seems to be only one bed.”

Stretch swallowed, nodding
stiffly as he hurriedly entered the room, making sure Sans couldn’t see his
face, lest he notice the heated magic on his cheekbones. “right, um… that’s
fine,” Stretch said, dropping his bag onto the large armchair. “i’ll just take
the floor.”

He almost jumped as he felt Sans
placing a hand on his shoulder, chuckling as he gave it a reassuring pat.
“hehe, don’t be ridiculous dude. it’s a big enough bed, we can share.”

Stretch’s soul flipped in his
chest, and he felt a little too stunned to brush Sans’ hand away. “oh, but—”

“nothing wrong with two pals
sharing a bed. promise to keep my hands to myself.” Sans winked, and Stretch
felt certain his cheeks must be alight with how hot he suddenly felt.

Still, he did his best not to let
his embarrassment show, nodding quickly and swallowing against the magic that
threatened to take shape in his mouth. “uh. yeah. right. obviously.” The words
felt stiff, and he cleared his throat, giving a shaky laugh. “i’ll try not to
rib anything up against you either.”

Sans was silent for a moment, and
Stretch suddenly feared he’d crossed a line. But to his relief, the skeleton
simply chuckled, clapping him gently on the back. “yeah. i’ll try not to get
under your skin.” He leaned in, and Stretch drew in a sharp breath as Sans’
hand brushed against his hip in a way that couldn’t
be accidental. A sly grin crossed the shorter skeleton’s face, and he
chuckled softly before adding, “or your pants,” under his breath. Stretch remained
utterly still for a moment, not daring to look away as Sans held his gaze, his
eye-lights flickering slightly. Then, with a chuckle, Sans turned away, shoving
his hands back in his pockets and unpacking his bag.

Stretch was already certain he
wouldn’t survive the night.

A few hours later—and after much
procrastination on Stretch’s part—he climbed into bed beside Sans, who glanced
up at him. “heya bud, how was the shower?”

“cold,” Stretch said stiffly,
neglecting to mention that he’d kept the temperature low deliberately. It
hadn’t helped much, heated magic still flickering through him steadily.

“sorry to hear that,” Sans said,
and Stretch had to resist flinching as he shuffled closer. “i cold warm up those bones for you, if you
like?”

Stretch blinked in shock, staring
at Sans. It took him a moment to realise that he was joking, his casual grin
not faltering as he waited for Stretch to catch on. Trying to regather his
wits, Stretch laughed, shaking his head. “nah, don’t sweat it.” He looked away,
quickly switching off the light beside the bed in an attempt to hide his blush.
“uh, night.”

He could still feel Sans’ gaze on
him, pale eye-lights almost visible in the darkness. After what felt like an
eternity to Stretch’s racing soul, Sans shifted under the covers, turning away.
“heh, yeah. night, bud.” After only a few minutes of silence, Sans’ breaths
deepened, the only sound interrupting the quiet of their room. Stretch soon
followed suit, though his slumber was restless, his magic still refusing to
settle.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been
in his semi-conscious state when he felt Sans’ arms creeping around his waist,
but he immediately snapped awake, tensing as Sans shifted to press against his
back. He felt frozen as Sans nuzzled against his neck, his soft breaths light
against Stretch’s vertebrae. “s-sans,” Stretch whispered. “sans, wake up, you—”

“mm, ‘m awake, pal.”

Stretch tensed, his soul
stuttering against his ribcage in muted shock. If Sans was awake then… there
was no way this was an accident. Magic flooded his mouth, and no matter how
hard he tried, he couldn’t dispel it, excitement buzzing through him. Sans hummed,
tightening his arms as his fingers began to trail gently over Stretch’s ribs.
“’s alright, buddy. nothing weird about two friends cuddling, yeah? just… heh, cuddle’nt resist.”

Stretch was too awestruck to
respond to the pun. As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t relax into Sans’ arms.
His anxiety must have translated through the stiff set of his shoulders,
because Sans immediately halted his ministrations, drawing away slightly. “hey,
sorry man—you want me to stop?” Stretch tried to respond, but he couldn’t seem
to find his words. He must have been silent for a beat too long, because Sans
quickly pulled away, muttering a curse under his breath. “ah, shit—i’m sorry,
stretch, i uh… i shouldn’t’ve done that. i was just being an idiot, i—”

“n-no, sans…” Stretch turned over
to face Sans, whose usual grin was missing from his face, his cheekbones tinged
in slight embarrassment. “it’s… fine.” He smiled, feeling own his cheeks
turning a pale shade of gold as he shuffled slightly closer. “i… i don’t mind
if you wanna cuddle. you know—a-as friends.” Stretch had to force himself to
tack on the last bit, wishing he didn’t have to.

Still, he was grateful to see the
relief that crossed Sans’ features, the grin returning to his face. He shifted
forward, still seeming hesitant as he reached an arm out to loop around
Stretch. “you sure? i wasn’t trying to pressure you or anything, i just—”

“yeah,” Stretch said quickly,
grinning. “i’m pressure.”

Sans’ eye-lights brightened, and
he released a low chuckle as he pulled Stretch against him, resting his head on
his shoulder. “heh. you’re way too cool, stretch.”

Stretch’s soul glowed, and he
buried his face in the nape of Sans’ neck, unable to hide his own broad grin.
Sans’ sturdy arms felt warm around him, and Stretch suddenly found it easy to
relax, his eyes falling closed. They stayed like that for a few minutes, Sans
smoothing his hands down Stretch’s spine, until suddenly, he said, “hey
stretch. do friends ever, uh… kiss each other?”

Stretch stilled for a moment, and
he felt Sans do the same, clearly nervously anticipating Stretch’s answer. Once
again, Stretch found himself smiling, a small laugh building in his chest.
“heh, well… why don’t we find out?” He drew away slightly to meet Sans’ gaze, a
deep cyan blush colouring the other monster’s cheekbones.

Sans leaned forward, hesitating
for only a moment as he looked Stretch in the eye, as if searching for any sign
of reluctance. Finding none, he pressed forward, their mouths connecting in a
soft kiss. Stretch’s breath hitched, and he grazed his fingers over the back of
Sans’ neck, sighing at the feeling of Sans’ tongue swiping across his teeth.
The second he opened his mouth, Sans’ magic glided over his own, the sensation
sending tingles through him.

He drew away for a moment to gasp
as Sans’ fingers curled around his iliac crest, rubbing slow circles over the
smooth bone. Stretch kissed him again, a small noise of contentment escaping
him as Sans hooked a finger beneath the waistband of his pants. He wrapped one
his legs around Sans’ waist, trying to create more friction between them. It
was only when Sans’ hand dipped just a little too far down Stretch’s ilium that
he drew away abruptly. “uh, i think—as friends—maybe we should… slow down?” he
suggested, grinning as he caught his breath.

Sans immediately withdrew,
nodding and running a hand over the back of his skull. “uh. shit, you’re right,
yeah. don’t want this friendship to
sail too fast, huh?”

Stretch grinned, shaking his
head. “nah, but…” He leaned forward, pressing a light kiss to Sans’ cheek. “i
can’t wait to sea where it goes.”

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!

image

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.

For the writer prompts thing What about Rottenjoke with 7? Do what you will.

Oh my, thank you for sending in Rottenjoke! The prompt is 100% made for Razz. I’m starting to get into this ship, and it was great having the opportunity to write it. For whatever reason, I went for a bit of a weird approach with this one, but I hope you still enjoy it!

Warning: The Underfell brothers are little shits.

Edge watched with amusement as
Razz continued to fail at stopping himself from sending quick glances across
the crowded room. He could tell that Razz was trying very hard to distract
himself with the puzzle in front of him, but his gaze kept wondering over to
Sans, who was standing alone in a corner, idly sipping on a bottle of ketchup.
His eyes suddenly landed on Razz, and his permanent grin widened as he shot the
other skeleton a wink. Edge smirked at the deep blush that rose to Razz’s
cheekbones, the smaller skeleton quickly glancing away, focusing perhaps a
little too hard on the simple jigsaw before him.

“five g says sans rejects ‘im
when razz finally asks ‘im out.” Edge glanced down to see his brother leaning
against the wall beside him, grin plastered on his face as he took a long swig
of mustard.

Edge hummed, observing the two
skeletons. Razz still seemed to be having a hard time keeping his eyes off
Sans, and the lazier skeleton was clearly aware of the fact, which appeared to
be thoroughly amusing to him. “Make it twenty G, and you have yourself a deal,
Red,” Edge said, smoothly. He glanced down at Red, who had a brow bone raised.

“gettin’ a bit cocky there,
boss?” He seemed to think for a moment, before nodding. “fine. deal.” They
shook hands, then both strolled over to where Razz was sitting. “heya kid,” Red
greeted, offering the short-tempered monster a (rather forced) amiable grin. “what’cha
up to?”

Razz’s expression was bored,
barely flicking to Red as he continued to stare deliberately at the puzzle
pieces. “You’re a sharp-witted monster, Red. I’m certain you can figure that
out for yourself.”

Edge smirked at Red, who shot him
a scowl. Sitting down, Edge said, “Hey Razz, what do you think of Sans?” Both
Razz and Red’s gazes shot to Edge immediately. While Red looked suspicious,
clearly trying to determine Edge’s angle, Razz was looking very flustered.

“I don’t—nothing!” Razz
spluttered, purple rising to his cheekbones. “I don’t think anything of that
trashbag.” Eyes wide, he blinked for a moment, before quickly returning to his
puzzle.

Red’s eyes remained on Edge,
narrowed and skeptical. Edge maintained a neutral expression, raising a brow
bone at his brother. Red slowly turned back to Razz, the strained grin
returning to his face. “alright kiddo, no need to play it coy. why don’tcha
just ask ‘im out? it’d spare us all a lotta pain.”

Razz went still, and Edge noticed
his fingers tightening slightly around the puzzle piece he was holding. “Your
skull really is thick, isn’t it whelp? I already stated in rather explicit
terms that I have no interest in that grinning piece of garbage.”

Edge and Red exchanged a glance.
While the blush on Razz’s cheekbones was a very clear indicator that he was
lying, neither of them were in the mood to wait for him to concede and admit to
his feelings. Leaning back in his chair and folding his arms, Edge nodded. “I
suppose you’re right, Raspberry.” Razz glowered slightly at Edge for using the
nickname, but otherwise ignored him. “There wouldn’t be much point asking him
out—he’d probably say no anyway.”

This certainly seemed to get
Razz’s attention. Gritting his teeth, he looked back up at Edge, glaring. “No,
he wouldn’t!” he snapped, dropping his puzzle piece. Seeming to realise what
he’d said, he cleared his throat. “Not that—not that I would want him to say yes. I have no interest
in him whatsoever.” He frowned, going quiet, before muttering a silent, “But he
would say yes.”

Red gave a shake of his head,
shrugging. “i dunno, brat, i think the boss is right.”

“I don’t understand why you’re
still talking, whelp,” Razz growled, but Edge could tell that Red’s words were
getting to him. “And he isn’t. My
charms are irresistible.”

Edge could tell that Red was
trying very hard to stifle a snort at this, so he leaned in. “Well, we don’t
really have any way to prove it, do we? I suppose we’ll just have to assume
that Red and I are right. Two against one.” Sitting back again, he smirked at
the rage slowly rising into the deep purple eye-lights of the small skeleton.

Taking a very long, deep breath,
Razz finally looked up, sighing heavily. “You’re both wrong. And I’ll prove it.” With that, he rose to his feet, taking
another stiff breath and straightening his clothes, before marching over to
Sans.

Edge shot Red a smug glance,
before quickly rising to his feet and following Razz. As the Underfell brothers
approached, Razz turned, glaring at them. Sans was regarding the three
skeletons with amusement, chewing on the nozzle of his ketchup bottle. “well,
this looks like it’s going tibia an interesting conversation. what can i do you
for, gents?”

Edge rolled his eyes, but to his
surprise, this only seemed to fluster Razz even further. Clearing his throat,
and placing his hands on his hips, as if to steady himself, he levelled Sans’
gaze. “Red and Edge seem to be under the impression that you would not wish to
date me—should I ask.”

Red shot Edge a grin, mouthing
‘pay up’, but Edge merely rolled his eyes. Sans’ grin widened, but Edge could
see the dubiety in his eyes as he shot both Underfell brothers skeptical
glances. “that so?”

“It is. So.” Razz looked awkward,
seeming to be having a difficult time keeping eye contact with Sans. Silence
reigned between the four skeletons, and Edge could tell that where Razz was
starting to look very uncomfortable, Sans appeared to be trying to stifle a
huge grin.

“so, you gonna ask?” Sans’ voice
seemed to snap Razz out of whatever stupor he’d been in, because he blinked,
his blush darkening.

“W-what?”

Sans shrugged, taking a swig of
ketchup. “well, how are you gonna settle this if you don’t ask me?”

“W-well, I—” Razz fiddled with
his bandana, before clearing his throat. “Very well. Sans, will you—” Razz
broke off, taking a deep breath before continuing. “Will you go on a date?
Um—w-with me?” Razz immediately dropped his gaze, his cheekbones glowing, hands
fidgeting uncontrollably.

Sans watched Razz, humming
thoughtfully for a moment. “hm, i dunno kid, it kinda feels like you’re doing
this out of spite.”

Edge narrowed his eye sockets,
and caught sight of Red grinning beside him. Then, to his surprise, Razz pulled
himself up, huffing. “Well. Ninety percent of my important decisions have been
made out of spite. It’s part of my charm.” Razz’s sudden burst of confidence
seemed to falter slightly, and he quickly looked away from Sans again.

But, much to Edge’s surprise, this
actually drew a chuckle from Sans—and even more astoundingly, a pale tint of
blue blush. “heh, it certainly is.” Sans’ gaze drifted to Edge, who suddenly
felt the scrutiny the comedian always seemed to be able to project simply
through the looks he gave. Keeping his expression as placid as he could, Edge
returned the look. Eventually, Sans looked away, his eyes returning to Razz.
With another gulp of ketchup, and a shrug, he said, “alright. sure. let’s go on
a date.”

For a moment, Razz seemed
stunned, opening his mouth and closing it again when he seemed to realise he
had nothing to say. Finally, he seemed to find his words again. “R-really…?” He
narrowed his eye sockets slightly. “This… isn’t a joke, is it?”

Sans chuckled, shoving his hands
in his jacket pocket. “nah. i’d rather sell both my kidneys than patella lie to
you, kid.”

For a moment, Edge wondered if
Razz was going to snap at Sans for the pun. But instead, he gave a curt nod,
hooking an arm around Sans’—clearly much to the lazier skeleton’s surprise.
“Very well. In that case, we ought to discuss the activities of our date.”
Razz’s cheekbones were an intense shade of violet, but other than that, he
seemed surprisingly composed. Edge noticed the return of faint blue to Sans’
cheeks as well, and he shot a very miffed looking Red a smirk.

As Razz strutted through the
crowded living room towards the couch, Sans leaned in to whisper to Edge. “i
know you and red probably took some dumb bet on this, and i’m guessing it was
red who bet against the raspberry.” Edge glanced down at Sans with a raised
brow bone, impressed. Sans’ gaze flicked to Red, who was still looking
unendingly irritated, before turning back to Edge. “can’t deny, i’m a pretty
spiteful person myself.”

“Sans!” Razz called, arms folded
across his chest. “If this is to be a successful date, it requires maximum
effort from both parties! No
fraternising with the losers.” Razz regarded Edge with a smug grin.

“You really showed us, Razz,”
Edge said, dryly. Razz’s grin faded, and he glowered at Edge, before turning
his attention back to Sans.

“Well, Red,” Edge said, turning
to regard his brother, “I do believe you owe me some gold.” Red huffed,
scowling at Edge, and kept his arms firmly crossed. “Oh come now, brother,
don’t be a sore loser. It was a fair bet.”

Edge smirked at Red, who pulled a
face, before glancing at Sans, wondering just how far the grinning skeleton
would be willing to go just to spite Red. But upon closer inspection, Edge
couldn’t help but notice how genuine the normally forced-looking smile on Sans’
face was as he watched Razz, who was talking animatedly. Mind made up, Edge
turned back to his brother, crossing his arms. “Alright brother, I’ll give you
another chance.”

Red’s eyes flicked up, sockets
narrowed in suspicion. But Edge could tell he was intrigued, clearly not eager
to give up his gold just yet. “hmm, i’ll bite. stakes?”

Edge smirked, already feeling
victorious, before leaning in to whisper, “Double or nothing—they will have
slept together before the end of the week.”

47, Spicyhoney/ Kedgeup

I went with Kedgeup for this one since I already have a fair few with Spicyhoney. Also, I was initially going to post this later, but then I remembered that it’s your birthday today! So Happy Birthday 😀 I hope you have a wonderful day – and I also hope you enjoy this! I’m actually starting to like this pair. Poor Edge is very easily flustered.

(Also, thank you for all the other requests you sent in! I’ll definitely be coming back to them at some point.)

Warning for mild sexual content.

Edge took a deep breath, trying
to gather his confidence before pushing open the doors to the bar. It was
crowded inside, the musty smell of old wood and beer lingering in the air.
Trying not to pull a face, he pushed through the throngs of people, scanning
over the room. His soul did a small leap in his chest as his gaze landed on
Sans, who glanced up as if sensing Edge’s eyes on him, a wide grin spreading
across his face. Despite himself, Edge struggled to push back a small smile of
his own as he hurried over to the other skeleton.

He was a little disappointed to
see that Sans hadn’t bothered to change out of his normal stained jacket and
dirty sneakers—Edge had spent hours trying to pick out an appropriate outfit, the
worry that Sans would disapprove of his appearance plaguing his mind. Though
seeing Sans now, Fell’s doubts were all but erased; if the low whistle Sans
gave when he approached was any indication, he thoroughly approved of Fell’s
‘neat casual’ attire. “damn, looking good there edgy. gotta admit, as much as i
love all the usual black, white is definitely your colour.”

Edge scoffed, looking away, but
in truth he was feeling very flustered, heat rising to his cheekbones. He
wrapped his arms around himself, feeling a little self-conscious, but slid into
the booth beside Sans. “It’s nothing,” he said, shortly, still unable to look
Sans in the eye. “Just something I pulled on.” He could feel Sans’ gaze on him,
his scrutiny doing little to help Edge quell his embarrassment.

Sans chuckled, shrugging and
throwing one of his stocky arms over Edge’s shoulders. Edge flinched slightly,
tensing at the sudden contact. His soul pulsed in his chest, and he swallowed
down the trickle of magic flowing into his mouth. If Sans noticed Edge’s
apprehension though, he didn’t comment, simply giving him a broad grin, and
saying, “nah, you, throwing something on last minute? somehow i doubt that,
edgy.”

Edge blushed harder, tugging on
the end of his sleeve’s white cuff as he stared pointedly at the grungy wooden
table. Sans’ arm was still around his shoulders, his fingers tapping idly on
his collarbone, and Edge was trying very hard not to let himself believe it was
anything more than friendly affection. “So, um, when are the others getting
here?” he asked, eager to break some of the tension brought on by their mutual
silence.

“oh, yeah.” Sans shrugged,
reaching across the table and grabbing a chip from the almost empty bowl. “they
cancelled.”

For a moment, Edge didn’t
properly register Sans’ words, his casual tone not quite conveying the meaning
behind his statement. But then it sunk in, and Edge suddenly pulled away from
Sans, staring at him with wide eyes. “They—they cancelled?” he asked, panic
seeping into his tone against his will. “But—why?”

Sans didn’t seem even vaguely
bothered by the fact, simply giving another shrug and a shake of his head as he
popped another chip into his mouth. “dunno, had better things to do i guess.”

Edge slumped back in the booth,
feeling a prickle of anxiety in his soul, which seemed to be hammering against
his ribcage. “O-oh. So, it’s just…?”

“just the two of us,” Sans said,
shooting Edge another grin. “that’s not a problem, is it?”

Sans was regarding Edge with that
piercing look again. The look that—despite his wide smile—seemed to carry so
much weight. Edge found himself averting his gaze, afraid of what Sans might
see beneath the stiff nod he gave. “No—no, of course it isn’t. It’s fine.”

Sans watched Edge for a moment
longer, as if waiting for him to elaborate, then chuckled as he turned away.
“heh. good.” He leaned back against the grubby cushions, shuffling a little
closer to Edge, who tried not to tense as their arms brushed. “gee, kinda hot
in this place don’t you think?” Sans said, glancing at Edge.

“I… I suppose,” Edge muttered,
distractedly, his mind elsewhere. Such as on the fact that he was going to be
spending an entire evening alone with
Sans. Or on the feeling of the smooth, but sturdy bones of Sans’ arm, just
barely touching his own. Or the fact that Sans was stretching, pulling off his
jacket… “W-what are you doing?” Edge asked, cringing at how alarmed he sounded.

“told you. i’m boiling. need to
lose a few layers.” Sans merely grinned as he shucked the jacket off, dropping
it beside him in a small heap. “heh, much better.” He looked up at Edge,
cocking his head slightly. “wanna strip as well? it’s pretty liberating.”

Edge was stunned, having to
remind himself to close his mouth as he gaped at Sans. Surely he had to know what that sounded like. There was no way he’d
said that without realising the implications. But his grin was as innocent as
ever, so Edge could only shake his head rapidly, turning away to hide his
blush. “N-no. I’m fine,” he mumbled, hugging himself slightly, and half wishing
he could melt into the dingy floorboards to escape his own embarrassment. There
was no chance Sans hadn’t noticed how heavily he was blushing. Edge almost
wondered if losing a few layers wouldn’t be such a bad thing; his entire body
felt like it was on fire.

“you know…” Sans said slowly,
breaking the silence as he grabbed the last chip from the bowl, “you kinda
remind me of someone.”

“Oh, really?” Edge said, still
feeling a little too abashed to look at Sans. He was grateful for the sudden
change in topic, more than eager to indulge Sans if it meant no more talk of
‘stripping’.

“hehe, yeah,” Sans said. “you
look a lot like my boyfriend.”

This got Edge’s attention. His
gaze snapped up, and he could feel an uncomfortable pit forming in his chest.
“Y-your boyfriend?” He could hear the
bewilderment in his own voice, but he was too stunned to care. “Since when do
you have a boyfriend? Who is he? How… how long have you been dating?” Edge
suddenly realised he’d probably asked a few too many questions for someone who
really shouldn’t be so invested in Sans’ dating life. He quickly looked away,
fingers twisting a loose thread on his shirt. He knew it wasn’t any of his
business, but he felt a little betrayed that Sans hadn’t told him sooner that
he was seeing someone. The idea alone cast a dark cloud over his soul, and he
knew the dejection must be showing on his face.

“how long?” Sans hummed
thoughtfully, and began counting on his fingers. “huh, lemme see… if tonight
goes well, then uh—one night.”

“What…?” Edge frowned in
confusion, trying to figure out what had prompted the sudden blush that had
risen to Sans’ cheeks, and the wide, expectant grin on his face, and the fact
that he was suddenly looking a little anxious and—oh. “W-wait, you mean…?” Edge’s voice went small, becoming stuck.
He was being presumptuous. Surely Sans wasn’t talking about him? Surely this
wasn’t—

“heh, only if you want,
sweetheart.” Sans’ sockets were lidded slightly, and he shifted across the
cushions, placing a hand on Edge’s hip. “’cause uh, i’m only asking ‘cause
i—well, i think you’re kinda cool and stuff, and i—”

“Sans. I need you to buy me a
drink,” Edge declared loudly, cutting him off abruptly. Sans paused, blinking.

“uh… why?”

“So that I can kiss you without
feeling… e-embarrassed.” Edge’s sudden burst of confidence seemed to fizzle
out, and he suddenly couldn’t look Sans in the eye anymore. He tried to turn
away, but then Sans’ hand was on his jaw, cupping his face gently.

“nothing to be embarrassed about,
love,” he murmured, his mouth inches away from Edge’s. He paused, warm breaths
ghosting against Edge’s face as he looked up to meet his eye. “this alright?”

Edge nodded quickly, no longer
able to dispel the magic flooding his mouth. “Y-yes. Sans… please kiss me.”

Sans didn’t need telling twice.
With a grin, he pressed forward, their teeth connecting softly. For a brief
moment, Edge went rigid, a sliver of doubt creeping into him. But Sans was
persistent. He climbed up onto the cushions of the booth, kneeling against
Edge, their mouths never parting. He looped an arm around Edge’s back, pulling
him close so that Edge could feel the erratic magic burning through Sans’
bones.

The knowledge that Sans wanted
this just as much as he did seemed to dissipate any lingering worries in his
mind. He delved deeper, pressing his tongue against Sans’ teeth, which
immediately parted, allowing their magic to mingle together. Tasting Sans’
magic for the first time sent a surge of excitement through Edge, and he
wrapped a hand around the back of Sans’ skull, drawing him in and deepening the
kiss. He could almost feel Sans grinning against him as he tangled a hand in
Edge’s shirt, fingers grazing lightly over his ribs.

When they finally parted, Edge
didn’t let go, his hands still clutched onto Sans, who was panting slightly,
his normally dim eye-lights sparkling. “heh, so, uh… how was that?” he asked,
looking a little sheepish.

Edge swallowed for a moment,
still not releasing Sans. The blush on his cheekbones was no longer derived
from embarrassment, but rather, a wild excitement—an eagerness to pursue this,
and see where it might take him. At last he smiled, pressing his teeth lightly
to Sans’ again, earning a surprised chuckle from the other skeleton. When he
drew away, he nodded, running his thumb over the corner of Sans’ mouth. “Well,”
he said, blushing slightly as Sans’ fingers began tracing over his spine, “I
think your new boyfriend is very lucky.”