Bismuth Cradles and Citrine Bottles

by Hellsaint7w7

Summary:

Life moves on. With Nightmare in jail and his gang free to live their lives, they have to find ways to occupy their time. Either with finding love or starting families or discovering things about themselves they’d long since forgotten. The trauma will never leave and there will always be setbacks on their journeys, yet life moves on.

(The second part to my story Uncut Quartz and Glimmering Pyrite. I’d recommend reading that first, but it’s not required.)

Notes:

TW:
Mentions of death, mentions of suicide attempts

Chapter 1: Little Flickers

“Dust!” Killer called out as he spotted his friend.

He was standing at the front of the mental hospital he’d been staying at. After attempting to take his own life, his friends managed to convince Dust to seek professional help. And after making his friends promise to call and visit him as often as they could, Dust voluntarily checked himself into Emerald Mountain Psychiatric Hospital. After several months of hard work from both the medical staff and Dust, he had the right meds and had a good therapist and could now be released.

And God did it show on his face. Dust looked exhausted yet much more peaceful than Killer remembered him looking in a long time. His shoulders were slumped, his eyelights went back to their usual white color instead of red and blue, there were deep bags under his eyes, and he was fully reclined against the bench comfortably.

“Man, you look tired as shit,” Killer said, sitting in Dust’s lap. Dust wrapped his arm around Killer’s waist to make sure Killer didn’t fall off onto the concrete below them.

“Yeah? You try staying in a mental hospital for months.” Dust said. “It’s not the most comfortable place.”

“I can imagine,” Killer said. “Why don’t we get those milkshakes I promised? Then you could come back to my house and take a shower and sleep. You smell like a hospital.”

“I wonder why.” Dust said sarcastically. Killer huffed a laugh. “But yeah, that sounds nice.”

“Cool, let’s go then,” Killer said. Right before he got off of Dust’s lap, the other spoke.

“Why do you have your magic summoned?” Dust asked. Killer could’ve face-palmed. Why didn’t he realize that Dust would be able to feel that? “Isn’t it hot out? I’d think you’d be overheating.”

“Why not?” Killer said with a cool smile. “It makes me feel pretty.”

“I mean, sure, do whatever you want, you're an adult. It’s just… I don’t know, it seems odd.”

“Ok, Mr. Judgy,” Killer said, rolling his eyelights. Then he stood up. “Come on, let’s get some milkshakes.”

The two had a good time together. Killer caught Dust up on anything he might’ve missed and Dust just nodded along. He always got quieter while out in public, so it made sense that he wasn’t talking much. But on the way back, since they had to walk down mainly empty streets, Dust started talking more.

“In the asylum, I was doing a mix of talk therapy and group therapy. And… My group was pretty cool. Most of them.” Dust said. Killer nodded, encouraging him to keep talking. “One guy was an extreme adrenaline junkie. He sky dives and snowboards and cave dives… He was a pretty fun guy. And then there was also this woman who was the mother of quadruplets. That was pretty cool because I’ve never met anyone who even had twins before. She was nice and made sure that everyone was taking their meds… and yeah. It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be.”

“That’s cool,” Killer said. “Did you get any of their numbers?”

“Uh… I am not sure if we’re allowed to hang out outside of therapy.”

“Why not?”

Dust shrugged. “I don’t know if we can. I could ask my therapist next week and if so then I’ll get one of their numbers.” He said. “There’s one guy who I think you’d like a lot. He’s a cat dad who’s hooked on Xanax.”

“Ooo, my twin.” Killer joked. Dust rolled his eyes playfully.

When they got home, Dust went to take a shower and wash the hospital smell off himself. Killer let the other borrow his clothes since Dust didn’t have any spare clothes on him. And during that time, Killer went to see what Cross was doing.

His lover was sitting on the couch, scrolling on his phone. Killer smiled when he saw him, moving to straddle Cross’s lap. The other smiled, dropping his phone to his chest.

“What are you doing?” Cross asked softly.

“Nothing,” Killer said, bending down to kiss Cross on his cheek. “I can’t cuddle my boyfriend?”

“I just feel that your intentions aren’t as pure as that,” Cross said. Killer cupped his face, kissing him sweetly.

“Me? No, no. I have no idea where you got that impression of me.” Killer said.

He kissed Cross again, this time more heated and sexually charged. Cross set his hands on Killer’s sides to keep him stable as he reciprocated the kiss. His hands move down Cross’s chest as he subtly grinds against Cross’s pelvic bones.

“Killer.” He said, very gently pushing Killer away. But even though it was too gentle to truly push him off, Killer sat up, complying with Cross’s gentle motion. “I don’t know if we should do this right now.”

With a groan, Killer crossed his arms. “I am not made of spun sugar and glass.” He said.

“I just don’t want to hurt you,” Cross said.

“You’re not going to.”

“But I… I don’t want to risk it.”

Killer sighed. “Ok.” He got off of Cross. “You’d better not make me wait almost an entire damn year before fucking me.”

“We’ll see.” Cross stood up, stretching to pop his back. He kissed Killer sweetly, which Killer reciprocated. “I am gonna go on a run, ok?”

“Alright. Change out of your jacket first or you’ll pass out.” Killer said.

“Will do.”

Killer laid down on the couch where Cross had been. A minute or two later, Cross left the house. Cross’s protectiveness over him was just as adorable as it was smothering. To be fair, having sex on the couch with Dust in the house wasn’t a good idea, and if that had been the reason why Cross shrugged off his sexual advances then it would be understandable. But no, it was because Cross was ‘scared of hurting him’.

Cross was significantly taller and stronger than Killer in a physical sense. If he wanted to, he could probably break Killer’s bones. But he never had and Killer knew he never would. Cross was unbelievably gentle and very aware of his own strength.

While Killer was a bit disappointed, he also understood it. Cross was under no obligation to fuck him. Besides, he did know the reason why Cross was so paranoid about hurting him right now.

The bathroom door opening made him look up. Dust, wearing one of Killer’s band shirts, came out and sat next to him. He yawned, rubbing his eyes.

Killer stood up, taking a blanket from the back of the couch, and threw it over Dust’s lap. “Do you need a pillow?”

“Yeah.”

He went into the bedroom and took one of his pillows, handing it to Dust. The other tucked it behind his back and leaned against the arm of the couch. Killer smiled at him. It was good to have Dust out of the mental hospital and on the right track.

“You can stay as long as you want, but we don’t have another bed. So… sorry you have to sleep on the couch.” Killer said.

“It’s alright.” Dust said. He closed his eyes, turning his face towards the ceiling. “You two better not keep me up by fucking all the time like before.”

Killer laughed. Dust always used to complain about that when they were in Nightmare’s castle, so it became an inside joke between the three of them. After a moment of debating something with himself, Killer spoke.

“I don’t think you’ll have to worry about that. Cross is too worried about hurting me to have sex.”

“Oh… that’s out of character for you two.” Dust said. He looked over at him clearly curious why they had such a change in their relationship. The words felt daunting, heavy like rocks on Killer’s tongue but he pushed through nonetheless.

“Uh yeah… It’s uh… It’s because I am pregnant.” Killer admitted. It felt weird to say out loud. Dust’s eyes went wide. “You can’t tell anyone about this though. Me and Cross want to wait to tell people, but I thought you should be the exception to that because you’re my closest friend.”

Dust sat up, sleep forgotten. And then, Killer watched tears form in his eyes. Quickly, he sat next to Dust and reached out to clear the tears from his eyes, but Dust beat him to it. He wiped his eyes with his sleeves, keeping them covered as he spoke.

“Sorry, I am so sorry, I shouldn’t be crying like a baby. It’s just-…” He took a second to breathe. “I-I almost… I… I almost wasn’t around to meet my nephew. I-I came so close to-…”

Killer hugged Dust, resting his chin on his skull. The other took a moment to stabilize himself, trying to suppress little noises and dry his face. His voice was shaky when he spoke next.

“Do you have a name picked out?” Dust asked.

“I wanted to call them Haven.” He said. A watery laugh left Dust’s mouth.

“Of course.” His voice was soft. “I should expect nothing less from you, you sentimental bastard.”

“Why do you think it’s a boy?” Killer asked lightly.

“I am just hoping.” He said. “And I am hoping that I’ll be a good uncle.”

“I am sure you will be,” Killer said. Patting him on the back. “Please don’t tell anyone else yet. Unless something drastic happens, me and Cross want to be the ones who break the news.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell a soul.” Dust promised.

“Good. Now get some sleep.”

-

The first real change Cross noticed in Killer’s behavior was his jumpiness. Starting from the second his souling, Haven, was conceived, Killer’s magic started to surround and protect the tiny not-quite-souling, which started turning Killer’s ecto from clear to opaque. Another side effect of his magic working overtime to protect something was that Killer became more twitchy and more easily startled.

“Killer-“

“Ah!” Killer turned around quicker than Cross thought possible. “Oh. Haha, sorry.” He smiled awkwardly.

Killer had been making breakfast for them, mind drifting. But usually, even if Killer was spaced out, he would’ve been aware of Cross standing behind him. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to spook you.”

“Nah, it’s ok.” Killer turned back to what he was doing. “What do you need?”

“I was just wondering if you wanted to go to Dream’s house to help them set up things,” Cross said.

“Yeah, sure,” Killer said. “Breakfast should be in ten minutes, by the way.”

“Alright, thanks, honey.”

“No prob.”

And when Cross looked it up in the books they’d gotten from the library about pregnancy, he saw it right there; ‘One of the first signs a monster is pregnant could be heightened awareness of their surroundings, increased anxiety, or acting in a more standoffish, defensive, or aggressive manner.’ And it seemed like the ‘increased anxiety’ was what was affecting his lover. That made a lot of sense. But the explanation for why that might be, which was the next paragraph, made Cross’s soul clench in anxiety.

‘While it’s not clear exactly why this change of behavior happens, many doctors and psychologists believe this phenomenon to be because the earliest stage of pregnancy is the most fragile stage. Any damage taken or any food consumed that’s slightly off could kill the souling before it even fully takes root. This state of altered behavior is likely a defense mechanism, especially since it usually only lasts for the first stage of pregnancy. It’s typically not a sign of any underlying issue, so don’t be alarmed.’

The knowledge that Killer was metaphorically walking through a minefield didn’t exactly make Cross calm down.

“Ready to go?” Killer asked.

“Huh?”

“Oh, are you not done with your food? I thought you were because you’ve been staring at the book for the past three minutes straight.” Killer teased lightly.

Cross sheepishly closed the book. “No, I am done. Sorry, I was just… looking something up.” Cross said. “We can go over to their place if you’re ready.”

“Absolutely,” Killer said. He hopped up from the couch and stretched his back. “I have been dying to go see them.”

Today was incredibly hot. Considering it was almost the middle of July, it made sense. Cross was sweating bullets which made Killer laugh at his misery and reminded him that he was the one who chose to wear a hoodie in 102 (F) degree weather.

Greetings were swift but sweet. Horror of course bear hugged both of them, which made Cross nervous because he was scared Horror would unknowingly hurt the baby. Things were looking much better in here already, considering the house before had been very old and very ‘well loved’ as Ccino said.

All the rickety or worn-down furniture had been replaced, looking out of place compared to the old wallpaper. They had gotten someone to come make sure the wiring in the house was working properly and were having someone come in to replace the light fixtures tomorrow. But for now, Dream excitedly dragged Killer to the couch to ask for his advice on which wallpaper they should go with.

“Ooo, that one’s cute,” Killer said, pointing at the one towards the top of Dream’s screen.

“Yeah, but that’s not really the um… ‘vibe’ we are going for.” Dream said.

“What vibe would that be?”

“Sort of… cottage-y? And something more brightly colored or colorful. This place is very dreary, so we want to liven it up.” Dream said.

Killer nodded, and with that knowledge, the two began searching. As soon as they knew which wallpaper they wanted, they could go get it to start working. Meanwhile, Horror asked Cross to help him with something in the bathroom. Cross agreed and they made their way down the hallway.

When Horror hugged Killer, he was pretty sure he felt his magic summoned. That in of itself wasn’t too weird. Some skeletons kept it summoned for warmth or personal preference or aesthetic purposes, which Horror knew Killer sometimes did when wearing more feminine clothes. But back when they worked for Nightmare they kept their magic summoned pretty much at all times for a different reason; it was a lot harder to cut through a whole torso as opposed to a spine. That’s why it made Horror a little antsy when he felt Killer had his summoned. Was he expecting a fight? Because in this heat, self-preservation usually overtakes any amount of personal preference or aesthetics. It was kind of odd that Killer had his summoned. And they’d walked here in this sweltering heat too, he must be so overheated.

“Can I ask you somethin’?” He asked when Cross and him were alone.

“Sure,” Cross said, surveying the bathroom. He probably expected Horror to ask something about the bathroom renovations they were planning.

“Is Killer ok?” Horror asked. Cross froze.

“Um… Of course.” Cross said. “Why?”

“Well, it’s just…” Horror paused, he could feel his memory slipping away. He squinted hard at the bathtub. Why was he concerned about Killer? “Well… I um…” He mumbled. The harder he tried to grip onto the memory, the further it slid away. “Sorry, I don’t r-remember. I am sure I w-will in a f-few minutes. Um… what were we talking about?”

“Bathroom renovations?” He said sheepishly.

“Oh! Yes.” Horror said. He could remember that at least. “We w-were-w-we-… We were planning on expanding the bathroom b-because there’s extra room to do so. You know, evening out the house since it’s sort of oddly shaped. But then we w-were wondering what we could fill that extra s-sp-space with.”

Cross hummed in thought, looking around. The walls and floors were dark beige tiles, and the roof was white popcorn ceiling. All it had was a bath, a toilet, and a sink. Other than the laundry basket of clothes.

“Well, you could probably take out the toilet,” Cross said. It’s not like monsters needed a toilet for any reason other than holding their clothes while bathing. “But that would only mean more space you have to fill…”

“No, I don’t think we sh-should do that. Me ‘n the others were going to a-ad-adopt kids. Might be a human or somethin’, we won’t know ‘til the papers go th-through.” Horror said. Then he paused. Kids? He wanted to ask Cross something and it had to do with kids, but what was it?

“Oh, you’re going to adopt?” Cross asked. Horror looked over at him, thoughts scattering.

“Mhm. Dream put in the papers already.” He said. “But it could t-take up to a year because of legal issues.”

“I see… I hear that can be a nightmare, especially because some agencies refuse to allow gay couples to adopt.” Cross said. Horror nodded solemnly. “But I am sure you’ll all be able to figure it out.”

“I hope so.”

“Um… About the bathroom renovations.” Cross said, getting them back on topic. “I think it’s way too beige in here.”

The two continued talking about what might look cool in the bathroom. Throughout the house, they’d gotten a lot of things done, like getting their rooms set up and things moved in. But there was still so much to do! Their busy schedules plus the constantly changing environment were confusing Horror and making it hard to hold onto his thoughts. But he’s sure whatever he’d been thinking about wasn’t important or it’d come back to him later. Right?

-

Cross woke up feeling comfortable and warm. On top of him was the weight of his lover, with Killer snoring softly. He smiled softly and sleepily, rubbing Killer’s back.

Killer made a soft noise and nuzzled into his chest. He was so fucking cute. Cross couldn’t believe how adorable one man could be. As of recently, Killer has gotten into the habit of sleeping shirtless because he knew how much Cross liked seeing the magic inside him.

But could you blame him? That was his baby in there. His first kid. Maybe his only child? Cross didn’t know. Regardless, he loved his souling before they were even here and he’d love them forever. And staring at the vague light inside of Killer, even if it was harder to see now because Killer’s body had already gone opaque, made Cross excited for the future.

“Good morning…” Killer mumbled. Cross blinked, snapping out of his thoughts.

“Morning,” Cross said, wrapping his arm around Killer. “How did you sleep?”

“Fine… Still tired though.”

“Yeah? Is it a lazy day?” Cross asked. Killer nodded, wrapping his arms around Cross’s neck. “How about some breakfast before we go back to bed?”

“Ugh, that sounds terrible.” Killer mumbled. “I am not hungry.”

“Not at all?” Killer hadn’t eaten anything since last night’s dinner.

“No.” Killer groaned. “I don’t feel… great. Kind of just… full. Like I am gonna throw up.”

Cross’s concern grew. “Morning sickness?”

“I hope not.” Killer mumbled.

“Well, I am hungry,” Cross said.

“Oh… ‘kay.”

He rolled off of Cross so the other could stand up. Cross did so, but he didn’t want to just leave Killer here. He went to the bathroom and got the trash can, setting it near Killer’s side of the bed. He gave his lover a concerned glance.

“Do you need anything? Water or more pillows or…?” He asked. Killer hummed in thought.

“Maybe… Maybe water.” Killer said.

“Alright. I’ll get that for you.” Cross said, leaning over to kiss Killer on the forehead.

He brought Killer his water before going back to the kitchen. Usually, Cross went for a run or walk before eating breakfast, but ever since Killer got pregnant, their schedules have been all thrown off. He made his breakfast while always anxiously glancing towards the bedroom door. Was he ready to be a father?

Yeah, there was a while yet before he even had to begin worrying about that, but he couldn’t help being worried. He stared out the window as he thought. Cross and Killer didn’t have any good parents to base their parenting decisions on.

The only memory he had of his actual parents was violence. Cross remembered watching his father hit his mother, only for his mother to pick up anything around the house to throw at his father. Screaming, things being thrown, his parents fighting like they were trying to kill each other. But even those memories were so vague and far away that he couldn’t be sure if they were even real.

Other than those vague memories of terrible parents, he was raised by Gaster. He expected nothing less than perfection at all times. Cross and Papyrus weren’t allowed to call him dad or father or any other word like that. They were expected to take care of themselves for the most part with Gaster only providing food and a place to sleep and the brothers were expected to do everything else on their own. If Cross even dared to fail at a task, he was punished. If he couldn’t complete all his training for the day because he was tired, or if he failed a drill because he was overheated, or if he let someone get hurt because he wasn’t paying attention, he’d be punished. Sometimes he had his food privileges taken away or was forced to clean up whatever Gaster arbitrarily decided he needed to clean or wasn’t allowed to sleep. But honestly, the worst part of his punishments was being lectured, the look on Gaster’s face, was his harsh words. It was the childish belief that because he messed up, he was now set back even further from his goal of getting Gaster’s love. If he just worked harder, Gaster would love him.

But now as an adult, Cross knew he was never going to get that. It was never a possibility in the first place. No matter how perfect he was, it would never be good enough.

Cross never wanted Haven to feel like that. It made him tough, self-reliant, and taught him a lot of skills through pain. But there had to be a way to teach them to be tough and self-reliant to a certain extent while not making them feel unloved.

As he ate his food, he scrolled through videos on YouTube. He felt a little foolish looking up how to be a parent online, but he had to learn somehow and he felt like hearing tips and stories from other parents would be better than just reading books. Especially because the books could be very general, use a lot of confusing science words, or not be personal enough to truly understand what it even means.

He watched video after video as he ate, then went on an extra-long walk afterwards to keep listening to these videos. He was embarrassed at first and blushed like a teenager at words like penis and labia and cervix and breast and areola, but eventually even those words started to sound normal until he was numb to them. Cross paused his walk occasionally to take notes, particularly about things he needed to look into more or items moms recommended getting. He wanted to be as prepared as possible because knowing what to expect would ease that anxiety.

Could he really do this? There was so much to remember and to be prepared for! What if he wasn’t ready to be a father?

-

When he opened the bedroom door, he saw Killer jolt awake. Cross paused, waiting for Killer to register his presence before he moved. Only when Killer sighed and laid back down did Cross crawl into bed with him.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Cross said softly. He rubbed Killer’s spine, making him sigh and relax further. “You’ve been sleeping all day.”

“Shit, really?” Killer said. He looked up, staring out the window where the sun was setting. “Oh fuck me…” He flopped onto the bed again.

“I thought about waking you up, but I decided if you were still sleeping, I should just let you sleep.”

Killer sighed. “You could’ve woken me up, I wouldn’t have minded.” He muttered. Cross hummed in acknowledgment. Killer turned over and buried himself in Cross’s chest. “How was your day?”

“It was nice. I went on a very long walk and looked more into parenting things. Like tips and stuff.” Cross said. Killer hummed quietly, eyes closing again. “You can go back to sleep if you want after you try to eat something.”

“I am not hungry.” Killer mumbled.

“Something has to sound appealing, right? Maybe… pasta or something easy to make?”

Killer groaned in disgust. It was quiet for a moment. Then, he sat up.

“You know what does sound good though? Oranges.” Killer said. Cross laughed, making Killer glare lightly at him. “What?”

“Sorry, it’s just so random,” Cross said. “I don’t think I’ve ever even seen you eat an orange in the five years we’ve been together.”

“I usually don’t like oranges. Well, I mean, they're ok. Usually. But right now, I’d probably gut someone just to get some oranges.” Killer said.

“Is this a pregnancy craving?” Cross asked. Killer paused, realizing it suddenly.

“Oh fuck.”

“I don’t know if we even have oranges in the house,” Cross said.

“Can we go to the store and buy some? Please? Pretty please?”

“Yeah, sure. We can buy other things we need too.” Cross said. Killer cheered, forcing himself to stand up and put a shirt on.

And that’s how they ended up going to the store at sunset to get oranges, orange juice, and a couple of other things. Killer’s mouth started watering the second they got the oranges into the cart, he looked like he was barely restraining himself from eating them before paying. It was absolutely adorable. Cross loved seeing such energy and light in Killer’s eyes, and it was especially cute that something as simple as oranges got him to behave like this.

“Oh! Hello, Cross. And hello, Killer.” Someone said. They looked over and saw Blue and Dust.

After briefly staying at Cross and Killer’s house, Dust went to live with Blue. Dust seemed to be a lot more stable, his hospital trip helped him a lot. It was nice to see.

“Hey. We didn’t expect to see you here so late.” Cross said.

“Mhm, we’re getting ingredients for dinner. I convinced Dust to cook with me!” Blue said. “We’re making tostadas but then we realized we didn’t have any avocados.”

“Why are you two out so late?” Dust asked. Cross tried not to look stressed. He couldn’t tell them it was to satisfy Killer’s cravings, not yet at least. He wanted to at least wait until the first trimester ended before telling them.

“It’s a good excuse to get out of the house and enjoy this nice summer night,” Cross said, shrugging sheepishly. Dust made a face at him, but Blue nodded excitedly.

“It’s very beautiful tonight, isn’t it?” Blue said. “You should add that to your list of good things, Dust!”

“Your list of good things?”

“It’s a therapy thing.” Dust said.

“Cross…” Killer mumbled impatiently. Cross glanced at him, the note of desperation in Killer’s voice made his protective instincts surge to the surface. But there was nothing he had to protect Killer from other than small talk in a grocery store.

“Sorry, guys, we should probably go,” Cross said. “You two have fun on your cooking date.”

Before either could respond, Killer and Cross turned and left. Cross couldn’t help but laugh a little, strangely proud of himself for stirring the pot. He and Killer grabbed a couple more items before they went to the checkout.

The second that they paid for the oranges, Killer peeled the orange and ate it right then and there. It tasted so good that he could’ve cried in the middle of a store like a baby. Having the burning urge suddenly satisfied was so good that Killer was almost ready to get down and pray to the orange gods. Of course, that was hyperbolic, but still.

“Is that good?” Cross asked warmly and a little playfully.

“Yeah. Almost too good. Thinking about running off to marry them.” Killer teased. Cross rolled his eyes, kissing Killer on the temple.

“You’d miss me too much.”

“True.”

-

If he could, Horror would be purring. Having his smallest lover curled up in his lap and snoring peacefully was one of Horror’s favorite things. He nuzzled his cheek into Ccino’s skull, closing his eyes and tightening his arms around Ccino comfortingly.

Dream came back from the kitchen. They smiled as they watched their two lovers. And then, they came over and reached out to caress Horror’s face.

“You look so cute when you’re calm,” Dream said softly. Horror leaned into Dream’s hand.

“I love you.” Horror mumbled.

“I love you too.” They said. Dream pulled their hand away, kissing Ccino on the forehead. “What do you want for dinner?”

“Anyth-thing.”

“How about Chicken Parmesan?” Dream asked. Horror nodded enthusiastically, mouth watering already.

Ccino hummed a little. Horror froze up, glancing down at him. The smaller skeleton sat up, glancing around blearily. He rubbed Ccino’s back, making Ccino rest his chin on Horror’s collarbones.

“I am cold, but you're warm,” Ccino muttered.

He locked his arm around his small lover so he wouldn’t fall when he moved. He shuffled over and grabbed the blanket off the back of the couch. The second the blanket wrapped around him, Ccino sighed in relief.

“You’re so sweet…”

“Do you want to just sleep until dinner? Dream is making it right now.” Horror asked. Ccino thought for a moment before he nodded.

He picked Ccino up, blanket and all, and carried him to the bedroom. They’d gone through the effort to make their bedroom really cozy, lots of pillows and fluffy blankets. Ccino immediately snuggled his face into a pillow while Horror tucked him in. Then, he kissed him on the forehead and stood up.

Then, Horror’s eye falls on the cat toy sitting on the dresser. None of Ccino’s cats were here yet, they wanted to fix up the house first, but several things for his cats had made their way here. And as he looked at the toy, his memory came back to him and he gasped.

“I completely forgot to clean out the extra room.” Horror said.

He hurried out of the room into what once was a kid’s bedroom. They had been hesitant to throw out the beds or toys because they wanted to adopt children, but they’d agreed to at least clean out the room to remodel it before figuring out what to do with the beds and toys. Horror picked up dolls and stuffed animals and wooden figures and put them all into a bag. Then, he stripped the beds of their blankets and sheets.

Suddenly, Horror paused again, staring at one bed. He and Killer had a conversation there. He remembered it was a nice conversation, but he didn’t remember what it was about.

Scratching at his dead eye socket, he continued cleaning up the room. They were going to adopt kids, but definitely not six, so a few of these beds could get thrown out. But for some reason, something snagged at the back of Horror’s mind, some thought he’d had a few weeks ago. But what was it?

Oh! That’s right! Killer told Horror that he and Cross were trying to have a baby! That’s why he wanted to keep some of the beds, so that his niece or nephew could have sleepovers with his kids!

That idea made him so happy. Ever since he was very little, he wanted to have a family. Horror and Papyrus were half raised by their Aunt Helvética. She was the closest thing to a mom the boys ever had. She taught self-reliance and planning skills, and also curiosity and a healthy understanding of how the world works. She was a good mom all things considered. But one day, she got sick and her health began rapidly declining. That was the first time Horror ever witnessed death. But it wouldn’t be the last.

Since Auntie Helvética was close friends with King Asgore, and because Asgore was a good man, he offered Horror the easiest yet most high-paying job he could; The Final Judge. He assured Horror that he’d never have to worry about that, the only way his role would ever need to be filled was if all other warriors and protectors died. Which would never happen. Right?

And in return, Horror got a lot of money. Enough to buy a home in Snowdin, his brother’s favorite place, and support his small family. The highlight of his life was watching his brother grow up. Taking on that pseudo-father role was one of the most rewarding things he ever did. And when Papyrus was old enough to support himself fine enough, that’s when Horror began thinking about finding a nice monster and having kids together.

But of course, that never happened.

After all the suffering and death and cannibalism and gore he witnessed, he never thought a peaceful life would be possible for him. Did you know it was possible to eat a monster as long as you kept them alive and in agony? Horror did because he’d seen it. He’d seen things that were so terrible that even trying to say them out loud was too difficult.

But here, he was far away from all of that. It was peaceful here. Calm. And he had the loves of his life with him, excited to start a family here.

It was almost like he went to bed with the idea of finding someone to raise kids with, then fell asleep and had a very long nightmare, and then woke up to his dream being a reality. If Horror tried hard enough, he could almost convince himself that those years in the famine and his employment under Nightmare were nothing more than a bad dream. But of course, he knew it wasn’t. After all, he had an ugly hole in his head glaring back at him anytime he looked in the mirror. And people like store clerks would get upset with him for stuttering so much and forgetting things. He couldn’t even blame them, he was upset with himself for stuttering and forgetting things too, but he couldn’t do anything to stop that from happening.

Horror sighed as he tied off the bag and set it on the bed. Things are better now. They’d only get better and better from here. That’s what he had to remember when he got weighted down by memories.

He stared at the bed for a moment longer, a slow drip of memories returning to him. Killer. Kids. Future. Warm. Concern.

Suddenly, it hit him. His eye socket went wide as pieces clicked together. Quickly, he hurried to the room he’d been sleeping in and grabbed his notebook. If he didn’t write it down, he’d forget. So very hastily, in pretty messy handwriting, he wrote a note.

‘I think Killer is pregnant.’ He wrote. Then he thought for a moment before adding another note underneath that. ‘Make sure to get gift for him.’

-

“When was the last time you cooked anything?” Blue asked, getting all the stuff set up.

“Uh… a while.” Dust said. “To be honest, I don’t think I’ve ever made anything fancier than a fried egg sandwich.”

“We all have to start somewhere,” Blue said.

God, he was always so positive. How was that possible? How could he always find a positive way to look at things? Dust envied it just as much as he admired it. That passion he had for life, for food, for his friends, for his hobbies, was inspiring.

“Do you know how to dice vegetables?” Blue asked.

“Yeah, I can do that.”

So while Blue fried tortillas and cooked ground beef, Dust cut up the vegetables. It looked so easy when he watched Horror do it, but Dust’s vegetables ended up being thick and blocky. Besides that, his movements were awkward and stiff compared to the fluid movements when Horror did this. He went back over all his blocky vegetables and cut them into smaller but uneven pieces.

“What next?” Dust asked.

“Add salt, black pepper, pickle jalapeños juice, and lemon juice then just mix it up.” Blue said.

All the stuff was sitting out waiting for him, but for some reason, Dust was so stressed about messing up that he kept forgetting what he was supposed to add. The kitchen smelled really good. So many spices and vegetables and meat cooking!

Blue seemed to know what he was doing. He looked so calm and relaxed while he was cooking, meanwhile Dust felt like a toddler asking if the square block should go into the square hole. He was just cutting vegetables and blending up tomatoes and peppers to make salsa. It wasn’t that hard, but the fear of messing it up in front of someone so amazing and cool made Dust die inside.

“Did you get the avocados cut?” Blue asked as he turned off the stove.

“Uh… no.” Dust said.

“Ok, that’s alright! Could you heat some refried beans? I’ll start putting the tostadas together and cut up the avocados.” Blue said.

“Yeah, sure.” That was something he could do.

Soon enough, they were sitting on the couch watching Studio Chibli movies while eating tostadas. Blue’s brother wouldn’t be home for another hour, his plate was sitting in the microwave so it didn’t go bad. And so for now it was just the two of them.

Dust’s face went warm as he remembered what Cross said at the store. Bastard. This wasn’t a date! It was just two friends cooking together. And of course, Dust found Blue attractive, you’d have to be completely blind to not find him attractive, but he would never even think about making a move on Blue.

Blue was the very definition of the phrase ‘out of your league’. Beautiful, funny, sweet, generous, successful, gregarious, intelligent, self-assured, talented, and way too understanding. Even thinking about being with Blue felt like a crime.

“I have always liked Studio Ghibli,” Blue said, snapping Dust out of his thoughts. “The characters are compelling and believable and… very real somehow. And it all feels very… uh…”

“Personal?” Dust offered.

“Yeah! Like there’s real heart and passion put into it.” Blue said. “You can tell someone poured their soul into the movie. Multiple someones.”

Dust nodded. This was one of his favorite Studio Ghibli movies. Quietly, he pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket and a pen and wrote another note. Princess Mononoke.

“How has therapy been going?” Blue asked. He must’ve seen Dust do that. Blushing a little, Dust focused his eyes on the screen as he spoke.

“It’s been… It’s been ok. It’s hard giving my trust to someone enough to explain all this shit to them.” Dust said. “Recently, we’ve been working on uh… Well… um… I always thought about sc-schizophrenia like… like a disease. Like the flu or the plague. Most of that is thanks to the media portraying it as an illness only terrible evil people have. So we’ve been trying to change how I see it.”

When he got his diagnosis, he thought his whole life was over. He thought, for one heartbreaking moment, that he’d never have his freedom again and he’d be a permanent involuntary inpatient constantly being sedated into being normal. And even now, he couldn’t help but think of it as a permanent hindrance that made him lesser than everyone around him.

“It doesn’t make you a bad person,” Blue said, his voice soft and kind. Dust glanced over at him. God, those eyes were so beautiful. “It’s a mental illness just like any other one. I know it’s probably hard right now, but I know you can live with this condition. All it will take is time and work.”

“Yeah…” Dust said quietly. “And I am working on it.”

“I don’t know much about schizophrenia, but if you ever have a therapy task or something you need help with, I would love to help you,” Blue said.

Dust’s soul flooded with warmth. He hadn’t felt this warm feeling in so long that he almost forgot what it was called. An involuntary smile spread across his face.

“Thank you…”

They turned their attention back to the movie. Dust couldn’t think of a way to make tonight any better. Good food, a good movie, and a good friend by his side. With his soul feeling fuller than it had been in years, he wrote down one last thing on his list for tonight.

‘Blue.’

Chapter 2: Lavender Little Lovers

“Okay, so, what about cussing in front of them?” Cross asked. Killer lay on his lap as they discussed things about raising their baby. Killer had just woken up from another nap. He napped pretty frequently. Cross liked to tease him for taking ‘dad naps’ around the house, but recently, he’d been doing that more and more.

“Well… Knowing me, I am gonna slip up if we try not to cuss. Besides, when they grow up, they’ll be cussing anyway.” Killer said. Cross nods. “I think it’s best if we just teach them not to cuss with the intention of hurting someone, and also not in public.”

“So they can say ‘fuck’ if they stub their toe but they can’t call someone a bitch?” Cross asked, just for clarification. Killer nodded. “Alright, makes sense. Ok… How do you feel about having a gender reveal party?”

“And burning down half of California?” He said jokingly. Cross rolled his eyes with a smile. “Sure, why not? I want to do the baby shower and the gender reveal simultaneously. We’ll give someone the paper with the gender on it and they can decide how to reveal it.”

“Ooo, I like that idea. But who would we let do that?”

“Maybe… Maybe Blue? He certainly knows how to throw a party.”

“We’d have to make sure he labels which things have alcohol in them,” Cross said, only half joking. “But yeah, I feel like he could come up with some great ideas. I am only a little scared that he would get too excited and genuinely would burn down half the country.”

“Maybe we could task Dust with curbing Blue’s excitement and keeping his ideas practical,” Killer said. Cross nodded in agreement. “Ok… next thing… What do you think about letting Haven have internet access?”

“I think it should be heavily restricted and monitored, but they should get more permissions as they get older,” Cross said.

“Absolutely. I don’t want my kid seeing some of the bad shit the internet has. They don’t need to watch a man get fucked to death by a horse or fall down a rabbit hole of AI slop until their brain completely rots.”

“I’m sorry, go back. What was that about the horse thing?”

“Google ‘Mr. Hands’.”

“I don’t think I will because of how you brought it up.”

“Good idea.”

Killer closed his eyes, setting a hand over his stomach. He’d been doing that more and more as the days went by. He was going to have a kid. A baby. A helpless little creature that will rely on him for everything for the first few years of its life.

“We should-“ Killer flinched at Cross’s voice breaking the silence. “Oh, sorry.”

“No, it’s ok.” He said.

“We should get going now,” Cross said. Killer sighed. “If we are going to walk then we need to get going sometime soon.”

“I am scared…” Killer admitted. “We’re getting hyped up about this baby and making plans and deciding how to raise them… But what if at this appointment, we find out something is wrong? That I can’t bring them to term? That they’ll die before they’re born?”

“I know, I am worried too,” Cross said softly. As he learned more about pregnancy, he started realizing how dangerous it was. So many things could go wrong. So many things could take his baby and Killer away from him. “But we have to do this. And if we find out there is some kind of problem or issue… We’ll deal with it together.”

With another sigh, Killer stood up. They’d already dressed up to go, so Killer couldn’t even use that as an excuse. Compared to the other days, today was cold. Cross and Killer held hands on their way to the appointment.

They arrived exactly on time, a rarity for them, but still ended up waiting for a while. The doctor asked questions about family history and when they thought Killer had conceived. Except that the two of them knew the exact date; July 1st. And also they had no idea about their family history. Their doctor seemed very tired and more than a little disgruntled about how little information they were able to give about family history. But after all the questions were asked, they moved on to the ultrasound.

“We should get an image any minute now…” They said. Killer was squeezing Cross’s hand so hard that he was a little worried it would bruise, but Cross didn’t want Killer to let go. “Oh! There we go.”

It didn’t look like much of anything to the two of them. Just little blobs in a sea of grey. But after staring for a moment, the two of them realized that the little darker blobs were very heavily focused around one particular area. A small noise left Killer’s mouth as he realized he was looking at his baby.

“Everything seems ok. I can’t see anything wrong with the baby.” They said. “Would you like to know the gender?”

“Um, no. We’re going to let our friend know the gender so they can throw a party for us.” Cross said, although it took a moment to remember how to speak.

“Ok. I’ll seal the results in an envelope.” They said. Cross nodded. “Now… There are two things that I want you both to remember.”

The doctor turned their attention to a paper as they spoke. Killer’s hand squeezed harder against his for a moment. When the doctor was satisfied with whatever they wrote, they looked up.

“Because he was underweight at the time of conception and still is, there is an increased risk of complications.” They said. Killer had been worse.

When they escaped Nightmare, Killer had been startlingly underweight. On top of the fact that food was often scarce because of their line of ‘work’, it was also a core component of the abuse they suffered. Getting deprived of food was not only a common punishment, but also Nightmare seemed to have some kind of attraction towards tormenting them like that. He’d make Killer work like a dog just to eat something, he’d hold it over their heads and taunt them. Often, Killer would give up the food he got so the others could eat, shrugging it off and claiming he wasn’t hungry. Cross’s weight dropped under that abuse, but he got off pretty easily because he was ‘the new guy’ and the others always chipped in to make sure he ate at least a little every day. It was a kindness Cross didn’t think he deserved, so he made up for it by trying to help the others gain weight back in a healthy way.

And while they’d worked hard to get Killer to a normal weight, he was still under the normal amount by eight pounds. Not nearly as bad as he had been, but still enough to be a bit concerning. Killer nodded stiffly, storing that in the back of his mind to keep him awake later tonight.

“But also, I have several concerns about your soul.” They said. Killer froze, his grip on Cross’s hand going slack. “With the damage it has sustained, there is a chance you can develop hypomagia. Most souls have essentially a ‘filter’, preventing the souling from taking too much magic from you at once. But with the damage you sustained, there’s a high chance that this won’t be the case. And losing too much magic to support yourself would also mean that the baby will die. It is a condition that can be fatal and requires immediate intervention.”

The air in the room immediately changed. Fear pulsed through their soul bond. But more than that, Cross could feel how self-conscious he was now that his wounded soul had been brought up. And also there was a hint of something similar to guilt there too. The doctor turned their attention to Cross.

“If one day, you find it’s almost impossible to wake Killer up, or if he exhibits an inordinate amount of weakness in his legs or general movements, you must get him to the hospital as quickly as possible.” They said. Cross quickly nodded. “And if that condition develops, the safest thing to do would be to terminate the pregnancy or else it’s very likely to become fatal.”

Cross could feel Killer’s despair. It was almost enough to choke him. He squeezed Killer’s hand and rubbed the back of it with his thumb.

“Is there anything we can do to prevent that from happening?” Cross asked.

“Yes indeed. He has to eat consistent and healthy meals, and he also can’t perform any magic unless it’s a life-or-death emergency. Other pregnant women can get away with a couple of spells here and there, but any magic Killer uses drastically increases the risk that he’ll die or the baby will have to be terminated.” They said.

‘Would you stop saying that fucking word?!’ Hearing Killer’s thoughts through his soul bond was a surprise. He understood his partner’s feelings though, the word ‘terminate’ sent chills down his spine.

“Alright, we will,” Cross said.

“Another thing that could help is forming a soul bond with each other. And if you’ve already done that, you can use direct soul-to-soul contact to give Killer’s magic a chance to recover.” They said. That provided some comfort to the two of them. “The baby should be ready to be born around the end of March. With that… I don’t have anything else to say. Any questions?”

Killer had several questions before coming here, but now they’ve all been scattered. “No, that’s all,” Cross said.

“Ok. So, make sure you schedule your next appointment for two weeks from now and you can be on your way.” They said.

His lover was as quiet as death on the way out. They didn’t bother walking home, Cross just teleported them. And the second they were home, Killer just crumbled.

Killer collapsed against Cross’s chest, small noises and whimpers leaving his mouth as tears spilled down his face. Cross held him close, resting his chin on Killer’s skull. He didn’t have to say anything, Cross already knew.

He felt ashamed of his weak soul, he was scared of losing the baby they’d wanted and planned for and intentionally tried to have. And he was scared for his own life. He was scared he’d one day just wake up too weak to continue with this pregnancy, too weak to keep living. Killer was terrified that after all he had done to earn this life of peace with his soulmate, one day he might just die, crumble into dust, because his soul ran out of energy.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve been scared to die,” Killer said, trying for humor but the tears and the strain in his voice made it fall flat.

“You’re not going to die. We’re going to get through this, ok? All three of us.” Cross said.

Killer nodded weakly. Cross looped his arm under Killer’s legs and picked him up, taking him to the couch. He sat on the couch and wrapped Killer in a blanket.

He hid his face in Cross’s chest, taking comfort in his lover’s warm and strong body. Killer grabbed Cross’s shoulder, hands trembling. “Can I touch your soul?” Cross asked softly. Killer nodded.

Cross’s touch was light and comforting. It elicited a slight wince from Killer. Once, his soul had been so touch-sensitive that even a light brush would cause him so much pain, but now, it was a comforting feeling despite the initial shock of pain. And that was thanks to the work they’d painstakingly performed to get to this point.

A quiet moan of pleasure and relief crashed into him when Cross put their souls together. Strain he hadn’t realized he was feeling lifted. Killer let out a sigh and his body completely relaxed against Cross.

“Does that feel good?” Cross asked kindly.

“Mhm…” Killer said. “It’s like… It’s like finally being able to sit down after a long day of walking around.”

“I am glad,” Cross said. He didn’t feel any strain from doing this. He’s sure that after hours and hours of giving his magic to Killer, he’d feel strained and worn out, but right now he was able to support his souling.

He let go of their souls. Being bonded, the souls didn’t immediately retreat to their respective owners. They remained connected, very slowly circling each other in a lackadaisical dance.

Killer, despite his fears and worries, couldn’t help but fall asleep in a matter of minutes. Cross on the other hand turned on the TV and watched some anime at a low volume. They remained connected by their souls for the majority of the day. When they were about to go to sleep, Cross started feeling the strain in his soul telling him he’d used a lot of energy. Still, he didn’t tell Killer and just pushed through it. He didn’t have a lot of reasons to use his magic now that they weren’t working for a megalomaniac, so he could take a little soul strain and magical exhaustion.

Besides, if it were for his souling and partner, he could put up with anything.

-

He didn’t know his soul could pound this quickly. Error’s hands couldn’t stop shaking and glitches kept robbing him of his vision. But honestly, he was glad each time his eyes became filled with ‘ERROR’ signs because it was an excuse not to have to go through with his plan until they cleared up.

For the entirety of Error’s life, he’d never felt attracted to anyone. He’d watch couples kiss and cuddle and make love while cringing. He just couldn’t understand why people wanted to do those things with other people, he didn’t know why they always said it’s because they ‘loved’ the other person. None of that made any sense to Error.

Until he fell in love with Horror.

He was so kind and sweet and patient. And that smile? Oh my god, it made Error’s soul skip a beat when he saw that smile.

When he first noticed these feelings for Horror, it was because his favorite echoflower was crushed. He knows it sounded stupid, he knows anyone else would make fun of him, Error would’ve made fun of someone who had an emotional attachment to a stupid flower. But when Error was feeling stressed or sad, he’d go and talk to the flower. Things he wouldn’t tell anyone else. He gave it a goofy name, Echo the Echoflower, and treated it like an actual person.

But one day, he came back to find that someone had crushed Echo. He ended up crying over it. It felt like the death of a friend, like someone who listened to all his secrets without a hint of judgment just met a brutal fate.

He wasn’t crying when he went to Nightmare’s castle, but you could tell he had been. You could practically feel the distress pouring off him in waves. Horror asked him what was wrong, and after a bit of prodding, Error confessed that the echoflower had been crushed.

The other skeleton hummed in thought and then asked if Error could tell him where the flower was. Two weeks later, Horror called him and told him to come to the castle. Sitting in a pot, a little messed up and splinted, was his flower.

Horror hadn’t judged him, hadn’t made fun of him for crying over a dumb flower, and in fact, he saved Echo. He spent weeks trying to bring his flower back from the brink, putting in so much effort and tender care. That’s when he first started feeling this way; this warmth, this softness, and giddiness. At first, he didn’t know what it was called, but slowly he realized it was love.

At night, when Error felt so alone it hurt, he’d imagine Horror being with him. He imagined holding his hand and cuddling with him. It caused glitches to spark across his bones and his face got warm, but it was also a very pleasant fantasy.

But he could only admire Horror from afar. Horror was in a relationship with Dream and Ccino. Those two were a thousand times more beautiful, more kind, more amazing than he was.

What was he supposed to do? He never felt like this before, but the person he loved was in a relationship with two people who were infinitely better than he was. Was he supposed to just let this fester into something ugly and painful?

No. He had to do something. He had to at least try.

Error was trembling as he stood up from his beanbag chair. If he didn’t leave now, he’d lose his nerve. So he opened a portal and quickly hurried through it.

In the living room, he saw Ccino crouched down in front of a little cage. He looked up at Error and smiled. Ccino was adorable too. Small and soft and cute.

“Hello, Error! I brought a couple of my cats here to get them used to the new place.”

“Where’s Horror?” Error asked instead of acknowledging Ccino’s words.

“Oh, he’s out back.”

“Thanks.”

It was nice outside today. Not as hot as it had been and a little breezy. Horror stood in the backyard, looking very calm, his eye flicking across the space in the yard.

“What are you doing?” Error asked. Horror turned and smiled at him.

“Hello. I am f-figuring out what I am gonna p-plant and where I’ll put it.” Horror said. “I want to plant l-lavender but I am not sure what e-el-else.”

“Oh… What about… Jasmine?” Error suggested. That was one of his favorite flowers. Horror smiled.

“I was th-thinking about planting Dream’s favorite flower, C-Ccino’s favorite, and mine. Which is lavender. I’d love to add j-jasmine too.”

“What are Dream and Ccino’s favorites?”

“Ccino likes h-hibiscus and D-Dr-Dream likes zinnias.” Horror said.

Error nodded. He wanted to just get to the point, just say what he came here to say, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Maybe if he just talked with Horror for a while, he’d be able to work up the courage to talk to him about this.

“Where’s your notebook?” Error asked. Horror gave him a confused look, but he produced his notebook and pen. Error opened it to a blank page and drew a large square. At the top, he wrote ‘Garden Plans’. “Here, now you can sketch out where you’ll plant things and stuff like that.”

“Thanks that’s a g-great idea.”

The two sat there in the grass talking about what they wanted to see there. Error found out that it wasn’t as easy as that. He wanted to grow cinnamon out here, and so did Horror, but apparently it wasn’t tropical enough for that. He wanted to grow vanilla, but Horror said they couldn’t because when it started getting cold, the vanilla would die.

“It’d be really cool t-to have a greenhouse, then it w-wouldn’t matter what the c-climate was like.” Horror said.

“How do you get a greenhouse?”

“Um… good question.” Horror said. Error sighed. “Maybe we could g-grow some strawberries.”

“Yeah…”

Error turned to look at the yard. He wanted this. He wanted to sit outside with Horror and get the courage to reach out and hold his hand. But he couldn’t.

There was a couple inches between them, yet it felt like an uncrossable gulf. Was it selfish to pursue his feelings for Horror? Oh god, he was being a home wrecker, wasn’t he?

“Is something bothering you?” Horror asked. Error couldn’t look at him. “You’ve been strangely qu-quiet.”

“Can I tell you something stupid? And have you not laugh at me.” He added.

“Of course.”

Error hesitated. A lump of emotion built up in the back of his throat. And then, with hot tears building, he just burst out all the things he had been meaning to say.

“I love you!” He shouted. He covered his eyes with his hands because he didn’t want to see Horror’s reaction. “I love you, I love you so much and I have no idea what to do about it! I’ve never loved anyone before and the one fucking person I fall for is in a committed relationship with two people and I feel like a terrible person who’s trying to break you three up, but that’s not the case because I don’t want you to br-“

“Error!” Horror said loudly, cutting through Error’s rant. Error paused. “Hey, it’s o-ok. Look at me.”

He looked up at Horror miserably. He felt foolish. He felt like a teenager in some cheesy indie film.

“It’s ok. I-I am not mad.” Horror said. With a very telegraphed movement, he set his hands on Error’s shoulders. “I’ll talk with the others and see if they’re o-open to going on a date. All f-f-four of us. To see how- see- t-t-to see how things go.”

“Really?” Error asked, blushing. Horror nodded. A shaky grin bloomed on his face. “Thank you! I-I’ve never been on a date before.”

“Just be yourself and t-try to get to know the others.” Horror said. “Have fun and e-enjoy whatever we decide to do. That’s how y-you have a good d-date.”

“Get to know them?”

“Yeah, a-ask questions. But… not like an i-interrogation.” Horror said. Error felt his nerves gathering.

“Alright, I… will try. So… um… You’ll talk to the others and then message me what they say?”

“Mhm.”

“Thank you. I am sorry I made it so… um… awkward.” Error said.

“Don’t worry, it’s o-ok. It’s normal.” Horror said. “On my first o-official date with Ccino, I d-dropped a cup and sh-sh-shattered it and everyone was s-staring at me.”

Error cringed from second-hand embarrassment. “Well, let’s hope nothing that embarrassing happens if we go on a date…” Horror laughed quietly. “Um… Good luck on the garden, I am going to go.”

“Alright. Bye, Error.”

He went back to the Anti-Void and dropped onto the beanbag chair. With a long sigh, he let a giddy and emotionally drained laugh leave him. That’s enough social interaction for today.

Error rolled onto his back and opened up his phone and looked up ‘good date questions’. He had no idea what to ask, so he just wrote down a whole bunch of them. He was already getting giddy before he even knew what the others were going to say, but could you blame him?

-

“You know what sounds good?” Killer asked.

“Oh god.” Cross sighed. He already knew it was going to be a crazy pregnancy craving.

“Vanilla ice cream, oranges, and peanut butter. Like a breakfast ice cream sundae!” Killer said.

“What about waffles too?”

“Ooo!”

Cross stood up from the couch, knowing full well this could be the best thing ever or the worst thing ever conceived. Either way, he was going to make it for his lover. It wasn’t often that Killer was so enthusiastic about eating. He still seemed so food repulsed, but after their appointment with the doctor, he had been forcing himself to eat at least a little bit of breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

When food cravings like this happened, it was a blessing. Cross was very concerned about how little Killer was eating despite his best efforts to force himself to. So no matter what it was, no matter if Cross had to go to the store at midnight, he’d get up and do it. Even if it was a little embarrassing to order some of these things. Once, all Killer wanted was a cheeseburger from McDonald’s but with cheese, pickles, and the ham they use for breakfast food. The employee looked at him funny and was about to say ‘we can’t do that here’ but Cross just said ‘my lover is having pregnancy cravings’ and they complied.

Cross had found that Killer liked combining as many different food groups as possible. Oh, and Tajin. Cross had never even heard of this stuff before, but now it became SO common to see Killer eating a plate of sliced oranges covered in Tajin.

“Here you go,” Cross said. Vanilla ice cream in the bowl along with two waffles, a good amount of peanut butter, and several slices of orange on top. Killer cheered, clapping his hands excitedly.

“Thank you!” Killer said, taking the bowl.

“No problem.” He retreated to the kitchen to grab two more waffles for himself. He sat next to Killer. “So… I was going to go hang out with Epic…”

“Cool,” Killer said, taking a spoonful of vanilla ice cream and peanut butter. “I am just gonna be painting all day, so you two can go have fun.”

“But you’ll message me the SECOND you need something?” Cross asked. Killer rolled his eyes affectionately.

“Yes, yes. Go have fun.” Killer said. “The most I’ll probably text you is ‘we’re out of Tajin’ or something.”

Cross huffed a laugh. It’s not that he didn’t trust Killer alone, it was just that he was scared Killer would suddenly crash because of magical exhaustion. But if Killer was certain he’d be ok alone…

“Alright. We were going to check out a couple of new places that were made in the Omega Timeline.”

“Ooo, sounds like fun,” Killer said. “Tell Epic I said ‘hi’.”

“I will. Oh, yeah… and I was wondering if I could tell Epic that you’re pregnant.”

“Go for it. Dust knows so it is only fair that Epic knows.”

“Wait, what?” Cross asked.

“Oh, shit… Did I not tell you? I thought I did. Sorry.” Killer said. “Dust is practically my brother, so I told him.”

“Oh, is that why he gave me that weird look at the grocery store?”

“Probably.” Killer shrugged, eating another orange dipped in vanilla ice cream and peanut butter. “Ooo! Damn, that’s so good! Cross, you have to try this!”

“Uh, I am good.”

“Come on, just one bite. You can’t knock it until you try it.” Killer said.

Cross sighed but agreed. Killer was right, he couldn’t say it was terrible until he knew. He leaned closer and let Killer place the rest of the orange into his mouth.

Immediately, his body tried to reject it. The flavors themselves weren’t that bad, but the textures and the temperatures were absolutely miserable. He made a face, trying not to immediately spit it back out.

“Shit, you good?” Killer asked. Cross forced himself to swallow it, shivering in disgust.

“Yeah, I am ok.” He gagged.

“You’ll understand it when you get pregnant,” Killer said casually. Cross glanced at him.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yup. Next time, I am getting you pregnant instead.”

“Let’s just get through one baby, ok?”

“Good idea.”

Soon after, they put their dishes away and Killer started cleaning them. Cross gets ready to go, but doesn’t leave without giving Killer a sweet kiss on the forehead. And when the dishes were done, Killer retreated to the bedroom to paint.

When they escaped from Nightmare, Killer was a wreck. All he had the mental capacity for was clinging to his friends, to Cross, and trying to keep whatever was left of his sanity. But when he found his feet, when the metaphorical ground stabilized, he realized something. His entire life revolved around pleasing Nightmare, training, protecting the others, and missions. He had a minor mental breakdown because of the realization that he had absolutely NO hobbies or interests.

Cross had to calm him down and assure him that he could rediscover his hobbies and interests. And one of the things Killer learned that he loved doing was drawing. Or painting. Either one.

Nothing he made was that good quality, but Cross hated it when he threw them away. Cross said he loved the drawings Killer made because they ‘felt genuine’. Whatever that meant.

Tonight, he sat there on the floor (so paint didn’t get on the bed) and just painted. No idea, no goal, mind completely gone, and just enjoyed himself. He used brushes, yes, but sometimes he just used his hands to brush colors across the canvas before they had a chance to dry. His hands were always a mess after painting. Along with whatever poor outfit he’d been wearing.

He used various shades of blue, purple, and red, creating a gradient as the background. And when he was satisfied with the smooth transition from blue to purple to red, he let the canvas dry while his mind drifted. He was pregnant. Pregnant! Soon enough, he’d have a helpless little baby in his arms that relied on him for everything.

But one day, they’d grow up. He wondered what kind of person they’d be. And honestly, Killer didn’t care who they became or what they wanted to do with their life, as long as they were happy he would be happy. Regardless of everything, they’d still be his baby. Even far, FAR, into the future when they have kids of their own, they’ll still be his tiny souling.

Absentmindedly, he’d taken a thin paintbrush and dipped it into black paint. And then, he started making little hearts, just the outlines. Red and purple and blue filled the little hearts. Each heart with whatever colors it happened to be was beautiful.

-

“Dusty! Wake up.” Said a kind voice. Dust blinked his eyes open, groaning in discomfort. “Good morning!”

“Morning.” He mumbled. Dust looked over at Blue who immediately handed him three pills and a cup of water. “Thanks.”

“No problem!”

It was very easy to remember to take his medication when he had a friend like Blue with him. Even though Blue never set any alarm, he always remembered when Dust needed to take more pills. Once, Blue had been napping, yet when the clock ticked over to noon, Blue woke up and went to fetch Dust’s medicine.

“I think you might be part robot.” Dust said. He swallowed his pills along with a gulp of water. “How else do you have such a good memory?”

“Well, because I am the magnificent Blue of course!” He said. Dust smiled a little. “Go take a shower, we have a long day ahead of us!”

“Huh?”

“We need to take you clothes shopping and then maybe lunch depending on how long it takes. After that, we are going to go hobby hunting.”

‘Hobby hunting’, because Dust wanted to find something he could do that would take his mind off dark thoughts. Blue seemed eager to help with that task, but Dust was very uncertain. What if it didn’t work? What if nothing could get his mind off of death and suffering and pain?

“Go on, get cleaned up, get ready!” Blue said, shooing him towards the bathroom playfully. “Your clothes have been cleaned and are waiting for you.”

He’d been stuck wearing Blue’s clothes for a while now. Everything he had, which already wasn’t much, had been left in Nightmare’s castle. Hence why they had to go clothes shopping.

Dust let himself be shoved into the bathroom. He needed a good shower. Self-care was hard. Sleeping at regular times, not eating so much junk food, and leaving the house at least once a day, was hard. But he’d found himself enjoying taking more regular showers. It mentally reset him, made him feel fresh and clean.

And so, he took his time. Eyes closed, warm water pouring over him, and Blue’s lavender scented soap. Quietly, Dust liked the fact that he too smelled like lavender now. Something deep down inside, something instinctive, liked having the same scent as Blue clinging to him.

“Breakfast is ready!” Blue said when Dust left the bathroom.

“Cool.” He said passively.

He sat at the table as Blue set a plate in front of him. Dust took a couple of small bites while Blue dug into his plate. It was a peaceful morning all things considered. Dust could feel his meds slowly taking effect, it was hard to describe what it felt like. Maybe like a very thin and cold blanket being wrapped around his mind. Like a soft breeze had flooded his skull.

“What hobby do you want to try first?” Blue asked.

“Um…”

“What did you like before everything?”

Dust truly had to think about it. He poked around his plate, not very interested in it. And suddenly, it struck him.

“I used to read a lot of sci-fi books.”

“Ooo. What was your favorite book?”

“Uh… I can’t… remember.” Dust muttered. “I think it was ‘I, Robot’.”

“What did you like about it?”

Dust stared at him blankly. Those memories seemed so far away. Buried under layers and layers of trauma and death, it felt dream-like and surreal to try and recall things from that time.

“Well, that’s where we should start,” Blue said. “We’ll go and buy you I, Robot and a bunch of other sci-fi books. What next?”

“I… I feel bad.” Dust said. “What if you buy books for me and it just ends up wasted?”

“Don’t feel bad, it’s ok.” Blue smiled. “I want to help you.”

Dust clicked his tongue and stared down at his plate. Was it worth it? All this money, all this time, all this effort. Was it even worth it? Was HE even worth it?

“Don’t give up hope,” Blue said, taking Dust’s hand. Dust looked up at him. “When we get you feeling better, you’ll look back on these dark days and laugh. You’ll see.”

“Thank you…”

“So! What’s next?”

“Um… Well… Killer seems to have fallen in love with art.” Dust said.

“Ooo! We can get colored pencils and some paper. Maybe coloring books? Oh! And we could color together!” Blue suggested.

“Yeah, that sounds nice.”

“Next?”

“Uh…”

For some reason, Dust’s mind went blank. What other things do people do for fun? He couldn’t think of even a single other activity.

“That’s ok. We’ll walk around and find things to do. It could be a nice day on the town.” Blue said. Dust nodded.

When they were ready, they went to a nearby clothing store. Dust’s goal was to get two shirts and two pants, but Blue insisted he get three. So eventually, he agreed with a sigh.

“Do you plan on summoning?” Blue asked, staring at the clothing rack. “If so, which one?”

Dust froze up a little. He liked to keep his magic summoned as often as he could, but he liked to keep his female one summoned. There were many reasons for this; warmth, comfort, and because it bled away slightly more excess magic. But the other reason was that he felt pretty when he had it summoned. His male form was very average, painfully so, but he thought his female one was far more attractive.

But Dust had never admitted that out loud. It went against what people seemed to think of him. And for some reason, it felt embarrassing to admit that he felt more confident in a female form.

“Um, yeah… I like to keep my… female form summoned.” He admitted so quietly that it would be a miracle if Blue heard him. Especially with the noise of the store.

But somehow, Blue did. He nodded. “Hmm… I am sure we can find something that works.” Not a hint of judgment in his voice.

A little emboldened, he kept looking for things to wear. The pants were the easiest. Black sweatpants, a pair of shorts, and some light blue jeans. Dust wasn’t a fan of jeans normally, but he thought having a pair would be good. Besides, these had nice pockets and the texture wasn’t as unbearable as most jeans. The shirts posed a bit more challenge.

He didn’t want to buy short-sleeved shirts. Dust’s wrists were covered in old burn marks (the method of self-harm he used to keep himself calm) and a lot more recent deep gashes. Any short-sleeved shirt was instantly off limits. But then again, if he always wore his jacket it should be fine. But in that case, why even worry about which shirts he picked?

“Do you see something you like?” Blue asked.

“Huh? Oh, I don’t know.” Dust said. “I am just thinking.”

“About?”

“Oh, um… I don’t want to show my wrists. But… I don’t know…” He mumbled.

“Don’t worry about any of that. You can figure that out later. Just find things you like.”

“Ok.”

He tried to take Blue’s advice. In the end, he picked up two long-sleeved sleeves and one short-sleeved sleeve. One was just a plain maroon color. It was very simple, but he liked the color a lot. Plus, it was very soft and cozy. The other was light purple with two cherries connected by a stem sewn into the middle. It was really cute and fit him perfectly. And the one short-sleeved sleeve he picked was too cute to pass up. It was a black graphic t-shirt with a cartoonish frog cuddling a lighter with the word ‘Arson’ below it in colorful letters. It was cute and funny enough that the corners of his mouth twitched into a smile. It’s something Killer would’ve loved. He had almost been tempted to take a picture of it and send it to him, but decided against it.

“You’re going to be on the verge of heatstroke all summer,” Blue warned.

“Yeah, but at least I’ll look good during it.” Dust said. Blue laughed, loud enough that people nearby looked at them, but Blue paid them no mind.

“Well then come on! Let’s buy it and go to the next thing!”

Dust had to talk Blue down from taking him to a bookstore. Instead, they went to a library where Blue got him a library card. It had been so long since he had gone to a library that it caught him off guard.

Blue struggled to keep his voice down. Several times, Dust had to loudly hush him to get the other to drop his tone. It was adorable, but it almost got them kicked out of the library three times.

He ended up sitting at a table with a copy of I, Robot. The second he opened it and began reading, memories came flooding back. A very small grin spread across his face as his eyes flicked across the pages. Along with the book he came here for, he also picked out two new books that sounded interesting. Station Eleven and Dune. He remembered now that Dune was one of those books he had on his shelf to ‘read later’ but never did.

“I hear that one has a movie now,” Blue said, tapping on the book.

“Is it any good?”

“Um… I don’t know.” Blue said. “I think people were saying it was mediocre.”

Dust hummed in acknowledgment. “Which book do you have?” He asked, glancing up. Blue showed the cover. I Know What You Did Last Summer. “I hear that one has a movie about it.”

“I think it has a couple about it,” Blue said, nodding excitedly.

“Do you usually read… mysteries? Or thrillers. Whatever that book is.”

“I don’t read often… but when I do, it’s usually mysteries or thrillers,” Blue said.

By the time they finished reading a bit and checking them out, it was about time for lunch. So they walked around the city streets until they found a restaurant that sounded good. It was a small restaurant that seemed to be family-owned. Dust and Blue sat at a table by the window.

“It smells so good in here!” Blue said. Dust nodded. “What do you want?”

“I don’t know.” Dust said. He looked up at Blue, his smile growing. “Blue.”

“Yes?”

Dust sets the menu down. He took a moment to think. Words weren’t exactly his strong suit, but he tried.

“Thank you. I know I was incredibly suspicious of you when… when we came to this AU. But despite being… um… standoffish… You never gave up trying to help me settle in.” Dust said. He couldn’t look at Blue. Instead, he stared down at Blue’s collarbone. “You’re the best friend I could have asked for.”

‘Standoffish’ didn’t begin to describe how he had been. He had been mean, sometimes cruel. But it had been born of fear. He was in a delusional state, a crumbling mental condition, and he began to even fear his friends. But despite spending most of the day curled up in a ball and snapping at anyone who got close, Blue always brought him food and water. He’d always come in with a little weather report or some positive news. And it helped a little.

“Oh, thank you,” Blue said, blushing a little. “Everyone deserves kindness. And I knew that below all that fear and prickly-ness, there was a good man, a good friend underneath.”

The cheerful noise of the diner faded away. For a moment, despite all the people around them, it felt like only Dust and Blue existed there. It was just the two of them in all the multiverse.

“And I was not disappointed with what I found.”

Chapter 3: With a Bow on the Top

Summary:

Tw:
Mentions of attempted suicide

With a little gasp, Killer sat up in bed. Warmth bloomed across his face, legs clenching. He couldn’t remember what he was dreaming about, but he knew it involved Cross and that he was being pressed lovingly into something soft. The blistering hot arousal that sat in the pit of his stomach told him what kind of dream it had been.

He let a little moan escape as he fell back against the pillows. Killer’s hand traveled down to rest in between his legs. Gently at first, he began rubbing his clit. Even gentle stimulation made him moan and his pussy get even wetter.

Still hazy from sleep, he ended up drifting into sleep a few times as he fantasized about his lover. The first time they had sex, it was in a passionate moment. They’d been ‘arguing’ all week, but it was a playful sort of argument with a different kind of heat behind their words. The tension between them kept building until it all came crashing into them.

After a training session, they were sitting on the ground together. Killer made a flirtatious joke, he’d long since forgotten what it was, but Cross responded with his own. His hands found Cross’s body, unable to help himself, and Cross responded in kind. Right then, right there, Cross took him in the grass. Feverishly passionate but loving. Bruising grasps combined with soft kisses.

Killer wasn’t a virgin, but at that moment he almost felt like one. Giddy, nervous, and madly in love. And Cross was such a gentleman, always asking for consent and making sure not to hurt Killer. At least, not to hurt him in any way Killer didn’t like. It wasn’t his first time, but it was the best time. Nothing before that could compare. The love, the trust, the desire, that passion, and the pleasure.

Those memories now accompanied him in bed as he tried to get off with just his hand. But Killer found that he couldn’t. It felt good, but nothing like when Cross took him.

Desperate and lonely, he pushed himself up and out of bed. He stepped into the hallway and glanced into the living room. From there, he saw his lover, looking handsome and tantalizing in the morning light. And he became even more irresistible when he looked up at Killer and smiled.

“Good morning, sweetheart. I made breakfast earlier if you want some.” He said.

“I am not hungry,” Killer said. He was, but he had other things on his mind. He crossed the hall and went to his lover’s side.

“You need to eat at least a little,” Cross said.

“Oh, I will,” Killer said, sitting next to him. His hand found its way to Cross’s thigh, stroking the bone. “But right now, I am craving something else.”

Cross’s face went warm. Watching Killer’s hand travel further up towards his pelvic bones, he felt arousal begin to take hold. Biting his tongue hard in an attempt to regain composure, he looked up at Killer again.

“You know we can’t. Not yet.” Cross said.

Killer snuggled against Cross, his other hand stroking Cross’s side. The heat between his legs was almost unbearable. He couldn’t seem to sit still, a wet spot had formed in his pants.

“Please…” Killer whined. “We’ll follow whatever safety precautions you want to make sure you don’t hurt me. I still don’t think you will, but if it makes you feel comfortable, then I’ll do whatever you want.”

Cross would be lying if he said he wasn’t tempted. But he was so scared of hurting his baby. The little souling was as big as a penny, as fragile as tissue paper. It didn’t even have a body yet, just a fragile little soul. He wanted to at least wait until the second trimester, until its body began developing, when it became less fragile.

“Killer…”

“You’ve never once hurt me. Not really. Never more than you meant to.” Killer insisted. “And you aren’t going to hurt them either. My magic is protecting them, nothing is going to happen.”

“I won’t fuck you. But…” He said, stopping Killer before he started whining again. “I will give you a bit of what you want.”

He turned Killer to the side so his back was against the arm of the couch. Excitement zinged through him, making him open his legs for Cross to slot himself between. He threw his arms around Cross as the taller skeleton kissed his neck and dragged his teeth across the bones there.

Killer tipped his head to the side with a little moan, arching against Cross. He bit Killer’s neck, making a little cry come from his adorable little lover. His hands grabbed onto the sleeves of Cross’s jacket as he sucked a dark hickey onto his neck.

And then, Cross moved down, trailing little kisses as he went. Each point of contact was electrifying. That was something that never changed, no matter how many times they’ve done this together.

Killer was already shirtless, so all Cross had to do was pull his pants down. He watched with heated excitement as Cross’s tongue connected with his thigh, teasingly slowly making its way up. His hot breath ghosted Killer’s thigh beautifully. A whimper left Killer’s mouth, his entire body tingling in anticipation. Cross dragged his teeth across the bone, making Killer moan, and then decided to move on from his teasing.

His tongue circled Killer’s clit before starting a constant motion. Up and down, each motion making another noise of mind-melting pleasure escape his smaller lover. They’d done this so many times that Cross knew how Killer liked it. But this time, he felt way more sensitive, as if he’d already come a few times. Cross’s finger circled his opening and occasionally slipped in. Killer loved to be fingered until he cried while Cross gave him head, but this time he only toyed with the threat he might do that, never actually committing to it fully.

With a cry, he reached out and clutched onto Cross’s shoulders. He let himself cry and moan as loud as he wanted. He knew that Cross liked the noise, he liked hearing Killer come undone.

And with a couple more minutes of stimulation, Killer came with a high-pitched moan. Cross cleaned him with his tongue sweetly and gently. Then, he pulled Killer’s pants back on and sat in between his legs, waiting for Killer’s orgasm to fade.

“Are you alright?” Cross asked.

“I am more than alright,” Killer said, delightfully pleased. Then, his grin turned wolfish. “Your turn.”

He moved suddenly so they were flipped, Cross pressed against the back of the couch. He was about to protest before Killer made his way to his knees in front of Cross. Then the monochrome skeleton’s face turned purple.

“I know how much you love it when I do this, Cross,” Killer said, voice full of lust. His hand found the growing bulge in his pants, stroking it tenderly. “Is it the best head you’ve ever gotten?”

“I think you must have some black magic. I don’t understand how you could be so good at it.” Cross said, only half joking.

Killer let a laugh rumble through his chest. He unleashed Cross’s length from his pants. His hand wrapped around it, stroking it up and down before gently rolling his tongue across the hot and soft surface. And then he put his mouth around the tip of Cross’s cock and gently went down.

Cross moaned, hand setting on the back of Killer’s head. He didn’t push, just merely curled his fingers against the warm bones. Killer was slow but steady, methodically dipping lower and lower until it touched the back of his throat. He let out a small noise which sent lovely vibrations through Cross’s lower stomach.

And then, Killer began a constant and steady pace. Not too fast, but not too slow. His hand copied the movement, creating a constant wave of stimulation that made Cross moan loudly. His other hand found Killer’s shoulder and squeezed, gentle pressure and constant reassurance that Cross loved every bit of this.

Killer kept glancing up at Cross, excited to see how he reacted to his touch and each swipe of his tongue. And he was treated to quite the show. He watched Cross unravel as a tight knot of pleasure gathered in his lower stomach. Waves of pleasure, hot and nearly overwhelming, raced up into Cross’s belly and filled it.

“Mm, Killer, I am going to cum.” He said, quickly but quietly. Killer set his hands on Cross’s thighs to steady himself and then began moving quicker.

A loud moan was stolen from Cross as the pace went from steady to quick and heated. Now he couldn’t help himself, pushing Killer’s head down in time with the motions he was making. And after only a moment more, hot magic shot into Killer’s mouth. Cross kept his head down, bucking into his throat as he came. Killer swallowed to avoid choking, dragging a high-pitched moan from Cross.

Then, Killer pulled off. He rubbed his throat before standing up. Cross tucked his cock back into his pants as Killer sat next to him.

“How is your soul feeling?” Cross asked, concern infecting the space where satisfaction used to be.

“It’s ok.” Killer reassured him. He kissed Cross’s cheek, joining their hands together. “It’s a little worn out, but nothing I can’t handle for a while longer.”

“Ok. I want to go for a walk. Tonight, I’ll take over for you, but if you need me to do that before then, just tell me.” Cross said.

“Of course I will,” Killer said. “I am gonna take a nap. You go enjoy yourself.”

Cross kissed Killer sweetly and stood up. Satisfied and sleepy, he laid down on the couch. The taller one pulled a blanket over top of him with a soft smile. “Make sure you eat while I am gone.”

He fell asleep very shortly after Cross left the house. The way he’d describe this nap, and most of the many naps he’d been taking recently, he’d say it was warm. Cozy, satisfied, safe, warm. Something deep inside him, something that only got stronger as his pregnancy advanced, enjoyed being in his own comfy little home. But at the same time, and a little paradoxically, he felt another pull developing inside him.

When he woke up an hour or so later, he decided to indulge in it. Killer stepped outside, taking a deep breath of fresh air. The light soaking into his body felt so lovely, so he sat down on the front step and looked up towards the sky.

“Oh, hello!” Someone said. Killer flinched, his magic suddenly lurching to just below the surface, threatening to form some kind of attack. But he held it back fiercely, looking down to see who was talking to him.

The woman standing there was an older woman with blonde hair that sort of reminded Killer of sand. Her face had wrinkles, especially around her eyes from years of laughter and joy, and her eyes were a very nice grey color. This was his next-door neighbor, a woman he’d seen once or twice but never directly spoke to. Anxiously, he gave her a little wave.

“I don’t think we’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. My name is Ysabel Milly, but most people call me Bel.” She said, holding his hand out for a handshake. Killer stood, slightly awkwardly, and went over, taking her hand.

“Yeah, I am a bit reclusive. I am Killer.” He said.

“Just ‘Killer’?”

“Yup.” He said.

“I see. So… How far along are you?” She asked. Killer blinked in shock, looking down at himself.

“Wait, am I showing yet? I didn’t think I was…” He mumbled. Bel laughed.

“No, no, sweetie. A mother can always tell.” She said. As she said that, a teenager walked from the car toward Bel’s house. They had their face buried in their phone and went right in without looking at them. But before they went inside, they spoke.

“Mom has eight kids.”

“Oh,” Killer said. Well, that made more sense. “Um, I am a week away from my second trimester.”

“Oh, how cute.” She said, giddy and grinning. “Is this your first baby?”

“Yeah, it is. It’s just me and my soulmate, um… Neither of us has parents either, so we’re a little anxious.” Killer said. He was actually pretty excited to learn that his neighbor was very experienced in this sort of thing, maybe he could get a little advice.

“Oh, there’s no need to be nervous. Everyone starts at a different level in their parenting ability. Let me tell you, the first one always seems to be the hardest, and for a while, you might stumble. But eventually, you will find your footing.” She said. Killer nodded.

“I am also a little… worried about the pain of labor. I am wondering if it’s better to try natural birth or c-section or…”

“My advice would be to go for a natural birth. I won’t lie to you, it’s going to hurt, but the pain is so worth it. Besides, you will be up and walking around far faster if you give birth naturally rather than a c-section.” She said. “There are plenty of things you can try to make the pain easier to deal with, but the best advice I could give is to keep breathing and keep calm. And soon enough, you’ll have your baby in your arms and in a tidal wave of love, you’ll already be thinking about having another.”

“I am not sure about that last part.” Killer laughed quietly. He couldn’t imagine himself tired, worn out, fresh out of a world of pain, and immediately wanting to do it again. But it made sense how Bel had so many kids if she felt that way fresh after birth.

“Maybe not right after, but you’ll see. Sooner than you might think, you’ll look at your baby and realize how fast they are growing up.” Bel said. “They’ll be hitting milestone after milestone and soon enough you’ll miss when they were tiny and making cute little noises.”

Killer went quiet. It was hard to even imagine what his baby was going to look like, let alone what it would feel like watching them grow up. It was too far away from him to even comprehend. The brain fog he was in wasn’t helping with that.

“Maybe your baby could meet mine when they are old enough!” Bel suggested. “He’s one year old. He’ll be two when yours is born.”

“Yeah, we’ll see. Maybe they’ll be friends.” Killer said. Bel nodded happily.

“Well, I should go. Maybe you and your partner could come over for dinner sometime?”

“Sounds good. See ya.”

Killer gave a little wave as he retreated to his house. He didn’t expect to have a full-blown conversation with his neighbor. Remembering the promise he made to Cross, he went to the kitchen to get some food. All the while, he couldn’t stop smiling.

-

Error tried to calm his nerves. He’d never been more anxious for anything in his entire life. He fussed over the clothes he wore, more than a little worried it wasn’t fancy enough. He just had his red turtleneck and a plain black jacket that was left open. It was different from his patchy and noticeably sewn-up clothes he usually wore, but it looked similar. Was this fancy enough?

“You look great!” Blue said. “Don’t worry about it, they’ll love that you tried!”

He had his phone propped up on his beanbag chair as he fussed over his appearance. Blue had been trying to encourage him, trying to assure him that everything would be fine. But Error was still incredibly worried about it.

“Just have fun with them!” Blue said. “It’s just a hangout. You know, like when you come over to play Stardew Valley with me.”

“Yeah, but I don’t love you.” Error said, then his eyes went wide. “I-I mean I do! But I- I don’t- you know? I mean-“

“It’s ok, I know what you meant.” Blue laughed. “Ok, some advice… be sure to um… think carefully about what you say before you speak. You have a bad habit of saying things you don’t mean because you uh-… yeah.”

He did have a bad habit of saying dumb things. Error had to watch what he said. That was just one more thing on the list of things he needed to do.

“Dust, do you have any advice for Error? He’s going on a date with Horror, Dream, and Ccino?” On the screen, Dust’s unenthusiastic face suddenly appeared. He was curled up on the couch, drawing with a red colored pencil.

“Don’t order spaghetti.”

“Uh… That sounds like it has a story behind it.” Blue said, laughing a little.

“Yeah.” Dust said, not elaborating further.

“Alright, so! Our advice is; Think before you speak, try to have fun, ask questions to get to know them, and don’t order spaghetti.” Blue recounted.

“Thanks.” Error said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. “I should go now.”

“Alright, good luck, Error!”

Feeling slightly more confident and infinitely more disheartened, he stepped through the portal. Error liked their new house. It was old and a bit worn down, but the smell was comforting to him for some reason. Now, standing in their living room, it hit him that this was real and not just some kind of daydream.

He could hear the others chatting from down the hall, but not the words. Error could hear laughing and happy chatting. And then, a voice cut through the others.

“Oh! Error is here!” It sounded like Dream.

His soul sank into his stomach. Panicking once again, he felt glitches begin to gather in his eye sockets. He shook his head hard, trying valiantly to clear them, but it was no use.

Error reached out blindly, sure that the wall was somewhere nearby. He took a staggering step sideways and then another, then his leg struck the coffee table hard. He cried out in pain and recoiled, making him lose his balance. Before he could fall backward, something caught him. Not hands, but warm and strong magic.

“You ok?” Horror mumbled.

“Can’t see.” Error said.

Carefully, Horror guided Error to the ground. Then, he came over and sat with him. He rubbed the pain from his leg as he waited for the glitches to clear.

“Thank you.” Error said.

“Oh, ‘s no problem.” Horror said. “Is your leg ok?”

“Yeah, it’s fine.”

Slowly, the glitches cleared from his eyes. Horror was sitting in front of him, looking absolutely gorgeous. His shirt was black with a pink flower pattern, over the top of that was a light jacket in a pretty red color. He matched that with jeans that were torn slightly at the knee. He looked stunning, but then again, he always did.

“Oh, hello, Error!” Ccino said as he and Dream entered the room. Ccino was in a pink sweater with a purple hibiscus in the middle, and Dream had a pretty pink dress with yellow flowy sleeves underneath it. Both were so pretty that it made glitches spark across Error’s bones. “How are you?”

“I am ok.” He said automatically. “A little anxious.”

“Me too.” Ccino giggled. “Haven’t been on a date in a while.”

“I haven’t worn a dress in so long.” Dream said, anxiously glancing down at himself. “Is it ok?”

“You’re beautiful.” Error said quickly and with a lot of conviction. Then, he blushed. “I-I mean, you look… nice.”

“Aw, thank you!” Dream said. “You look lovely too.”

Error floundered for a moment. “O-Of course I do!” He exclaimed dumbly. But as he was mentally kicking himself, the other three laughed. “So… Um… Where are we going?”

“We decided to go for a little nature walk and then find a nice place to eat,” Ccino said. “That way we can have privacy and it won’t be so stressful for you.”

“And also me and Horror loved the idea of having a cute little first date together surrounded by nature.” Dream said. Error nodded.

Dream retreated into the kitchen to grab a basket which must have their food inside it. And then, he was kindly ushered outside. The house wasn’t too far from the nature trail, giving little time for Error to mentally prepare before they were technically on their date.

“Have you been able to set up your PS4?” Dream asked Ccino.

“Yeah, I figured it out eventually,” Ccino said. “Which is good because I have been dying to play the Sims since having to box up my stuff.”

“How many h-hours do you have now?” Horror asked playfully.

“Um… About, uh, 112 hours of gameplay.” Ccino said bashfully.

They were asking questions! That meant that Error probably should as well. As subtly as possible, he fished the paper out of his pocket.

“S-So what’s your favorite meal?” Error asked, awkwardness bleeding into his voice. The group paused for a moment.

“Oh? Um… I am not sure.” Ccino said. “You can never go wrong with white sauce bow tie pasta with chicken.”

“Ooo, that sounds delicious.” Dream said. “I guess I like… Hmm… It's hard to pick a favorite. I have gotten a taste for seafood recently. What about you Horror?”

“Can’t pick a f-favorite. Food.” He said.

“Aw, come on. You have to have something.” Dream said. Horror shrugged. “What sounds good right now?”

“Now? Um… Maybe a t-tuna melt.” Horror said.

Error nodded, trying hard to store each of their answers in his memory. This whole thing was about getting to know them, right? It was so awkward to ask the question, he would hate for it to have been a waste of courage.

“And you?” Dream prompted. Error glanced over at him.

“Huh?”

“What’s your favorite food?”

Glitches sparked across his whole body. Of course, he was going to have the question turned on him! Why didn’t he think about that? Oh god, he should’ve thought about that.

“Oh, uh…” He started panicking. What was his favorite food? He couldn’t remember through the blinding fear. What was the name of any food? Why had he suddenly found himself unable to name even a single food item? “Um, strawberry!”

“I love strawberries!” Ccino said. “I put them in yogurt and make strawberry tarts and strawberry shortcake. How do you like them?”

“Um… I've never… had a strawberry before.” Error admitted.

“O-Oh? Oh! You like strawberry flavored things.”

“Uh… Yes.”

Why did he say strawberry? That was so stupid. He couldn’t even begin to imagine what a strawberry might taste like.

And while Error was trying to stop himself from visibly face-palming, the others continued their conversations. This wasn’t going very well. Maybe this was a mistake.

“What did you make for me that one time?” Dream asked Ccino. “When I was in the hospital.”

“I think that was Toll House pie.”

“Yes, yes! It was so good that I literally had dreams about it. You have to make it again sometime!”

“I could, but it’s terribly unhealthy.”

“Maybe for my birthday then?”

“Of course!”

After a while, the heat in Error’s face died down. The nature was certainly helping. It was very quiet and peaceful out here. The wind brushed past them gently and brought the smell of plants with it. The afternoon was giving way to evening, painting the sky in beautiful colors.

The path wasn’t too hard to walk, all things considered. Occasionally there would be an incline, but for the most part, it was flat. At some point, he stopped to look at a pretty flower that was blooming.

“That’s a snapdragon.” Horror said. Error stared at it for a moment longer. “Do you l-like it?”

“Yeah, it’s very pretty.”

Horror stepped off the path. Error watched in confusion as Horror picked one of them. And then, he returned and, with a very telegraphed movement, tucked the stem against the leg of Error’s glasses and his skull. It sat like a bow, pretty and colorful. Error blushed.

“Pretty.” Horror commented.

“Such a romantic.” Dream said, playfully fanning himself. Ccino giggled as he watched them.

Error kept moving forward, he had to before he made a fool of himself again. The others followed. Maybe this date could be saved after all!

Soon enough, they came to a pond. Dream set the picnic basket at one of the two tables. The others sat around it, watching as Dream pulled items from the basket.

“Have you found anything good to read recently, Dream?” Ccino asked.

“I have finally picked up The Hobbit.” Dream said. “I have been meaning to since it came out but now… Now I actually have the time.”

“It’s weird, i-isn’t it? Having free time.” Horror said. Dream nodded. “I never had s-so-s-so much time before. Now I f-find myself getting bored e-easier.”

“Mhm. I suddenly have found myself with infinite amounts of free time.” Error said, staring off into the distance. “Sometimes it feels like days pass in between blinks, but other days things move so slowly.”

“You should hang out with us more,” Ccino said, snapping Error out of whatever small trance he was in. “It’s easier to keep track of time when surrounded by other people.”

“And maybe you’d pick up a new hobby or two!” Dream said. “I know you like sewing, but maybe you’d also find other things to do.”

“Maybe.” Error said.

The food they’d brought was tuna melts, potato soup, and what seemed to be homemade bread. Dream got a bowl of potato soup, Ccino took a tuna melt, and Horror took both. Error was always a bit cautious around new food. He wasn’t sure why he was so anxious about trying new things, but he was. So for now, he just stuck with taking some homemade bread.

“Is the garden going well?” Dream asked Horror.

“Pretty well.” Horror said. “Need to do more work, but I h-have all the seeds now.”

“Oh, that’s good.” Dream said. “I’d love to help you out sometime.”

“You know what would be cute? Decorating the planter boxes.” Ccino said. “Like putting out hand prints on them in paint.”

“Oh my stars! That would be so cute! Maybe we could go from the biggest hand to the smallest one?” Dream suggested. “Error, how big are your hands?”

“Uh…”

Error held his hand out along with the other three. It felt so good to be included with them. It was such a small gesture, but still, Error would love nothing more than to add his handprints with the rest of them.

“So it would go Horror, Error, Dream, and then me,” Ccino said.

“Ooo, we should all pick specific colors too! It could be so cute!” Dream said.

“Are you going to eat m-more?” Horror asked Error quietly. “You just have bread.”

“Um, yes. I am just… anxious.”

“Don’t be. You are d-doing great.”

Error smiled at him and took a bowl to get some soup too. Hopefully it was good. The others seemed to like it, but Error was still skeptical.

The group was quiet now. They were just enjoying the quiet sounds of nature. Dream was staring into the pond at the fish and the bugs and the frogs.

Error anxiously reached for his paper. He looked down at the questions that he had written down. “U-uh… When you were a kid, what was your dream job?” Error quickly forced the paper back into his pocket, but Dream saw it this time.

“When I was a kid? Wow, um… I went through lots of phases.” Ccino said. “When I was very young, I wanted to be a meteorologist. You know… a news reporter.”

“Aw, that’s cute. Why did you want to be a news reporter?”

“Well, when I was a kid, I thought they controlled the weather,” Ccino said, blushing in embarrassment. “And I had a weird fascination with natural disasters like Pompeii and Hurricane Katrina, so I thought if I were a news reporter, I could stop those things from happening.”

“That’s so adorable.” Dream said. Ccino turned his face away bashfully. “When I was a kid, I wanted to be a doctor. It sounds a bit lame, but… Once I broke my arm and had to get it fixed. I thought it was some kind of magic how they used tiny little leaves and flowers to erase my pain. I went from being in the worst agony of my life to feeling relatively normal. I thought that was so cool…”

“Now THAT is adorable,” Ccino said. “Just imagining little Dream staring at a doctor with stars in his eyes.”

“Pretty much.”

“What about you, Horror?”

The bigger skeleton paused to think. He hummed, hand reaching up to scratch at his eye socket, picking at the rough edge of the scar inside of it. Quickly, Dream stood up and grabbed his arm, gently pulling his hand away.

“Sorry.” Horror mumbled, putting his hand on his lap. “Uh… I don’t know… When I was a k-kid, I liked science a lot. But also I enjoyed l-learning about the natural world. Maybe a biologist. I didn’t think about jobs at that age.”

And then exactly what Error had been dreading came to pass. They turned and looked at him expectantly. Error froze up, words catching in his throat.

“I-I… I don’t know.” He admitted. “I can’t remember anything from when I was young. I don’t even know if I was born or created or simply appeared one day.”

“Oh, that’s ok.” Dream said. “Don’t worry about it if you can’t remember.”

He nodded, prompting the others to move on with the conversation. But Error’s mind wandered. What was his dream job when he was a kid?

Everything in his past was blurry, foggy, too far to fully grasp. His memories of being a child were so sparse that Error almost thought they were just dreams he had. But now, he forced himself to examine those vague little memories.

“I wanted to be a writer.” He said suddenly, cutting through their conversation.

“You remember now?”

“I think so.”

“You can w-write?”

“Um, no, probably not. But I remember being a huge book nerd and thinking about how cool it was to have so many people willing to read your stories.” Error said. Now if only he could remember anything useful from his past.

“I have books you can read if you want.” Dream said.

“You’ll just have to hang out with us more,” Ccino said, a playful note in his voice.

Error smiled a bit. “I’ll try. I just hope your cats don’t crawl all over me and get hair stuck to my clothes.” He said.

“That’s an impossible request,” Ccino said, only half joking. “Just sitting on our couch is gonna get you covered in cat hair.”

“Great.” Error sighed. “I’ll think about it.”

But truthfully, Error did want to spend more time with them, more time away from the Anti-Void. And now that he’d been directly invited, he might just do that. With a subtle smile, he decided that this had been a good date despite the minor hiccups.

Maybe next time it could be even better.

-

The books that Dust had gotten were enough to hold his attention for the most part, but sometimes it was hard to focus on anything other than his unbelievably adorable roommate. Blue was humming a song as he walked around cleaning up. It hadn’t been that long since he got his own house. Sometimes his brother came over to hang out and spend the night, but for the most part, this was just Blue’s house. And now Dust was living here too.

He tried to be a good houseguest, he was already a pretty quiet and low-maintenance person, but still Blue insisted on cleaning up. Blue seemed to like cleaning, he always seemed so happy just going around organizing and dusting things. And Dust found that so cute.

“Alrighty, I am going to bed,” Blue said. “Don’t stay up too late, ok?”

“Ok. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

Dust watched as Blue went around turning off all the lights, except for the lamp near Dust. And then, he retreated to his room. That left Dust alone in the relative darkness reading his book.

There was so much that Dust had to repay Blue. Time, money, energy, and emotional distress. But he didn’t know how he was supposed to repay him.

It was almost unfair how perfect Blue was. Pretty, funny, smart, kind, generous. It’s like Blue took all of the best possible traits from everyone else and adopted them as his own.

Maybe he should take Blue out on a date.

That idea came so suddenly that it almost startled him. With his face going warm, he tried even harder to focus on his book. That was a terrible idea. Not because it wasn’t a good thing to do, he would love to take Blue out on a nice date and pay for him, that would be a great way to repay Blue for all of the things Dust had put him through. But he worried that Blue wouldn’t want to go on a date with someone like him.

Besides, how would he even ask? Where would they go? What if Blue rejected him? What if that ruined their friendship? He liked things well enough how they were, and the idea of ruining it made him feel a little sick.

So he tried to brush it off. The words on the page, despite how interesting they had been before, now seemed unbearably boring. Dust shifted around and around but seemed to be unable to get comfortable.

With a sigh, he marked his page and set the book down. He mindlessly reached for his phone and before he knew it, he was calling Killer. Despite it being a little late, Killer answered on the second ring.

“Hello? What’s up?” Killer said.

“Hey. I didn’t wake you up?”

“No.” Killer sighed. “My sleep schedule is fucked now. I just woke up like twenty minutes ago.”

“It’s 11:30,” Dust said, amused.

“Yeah, I know. I’ve become a nocturnal creature.” Killer said. “So what’s up? Why did you call me?”

Killer always answered the phone as quickly as he could when Dust called him. And could you blame him? He gave Killer and the others quite a scare when he tried to kill himself. He’d gotten very, very close. A moment longer of bleeding out and he would’ve been beyond saving.

“So… Um… How did you ask Cross out for the first time?” Dust asked.

Killer was quiet for a moment before he laughed. “That’s a very bad example. I first asked Cross out on a date fresh after keeping you up all night with our um… ‘festivities’.” Dust sighed. “I already knew Cross wasn’t going to shoot me down, so… if that’s what you’re looking for, I am afraid that story isn’t going to give you a lot of reassurance.”

“Ok, well, how would you suggest I ask someone out? Without taking them to bed first.”

“Look, with someone like Blue, you need to go big or go home,” Killer said.

“How did you know I was talking about Blue?”

“…”

“…”

“Anyway, as I was saying.” Killer continued. Dust blushed. Was it really that obvious? “Someone like Blue will absolutely adore grand gestures. Other people? Not so much. But Blue? I think the bigger the better.”

“That’s not exactly my strong suit.”

“Exactly! Blue knows that. So any effort you put into being big and extravagant will be greatly appreciated.” Killer said.

“Yeah, but what if he rejects me? Then I’ll look like an absolute idiot.”

“Pfft. Come on. Blue isn’t going to reject you.”

“But… what if?”

“Well then, you can come over to my house and I’ll help you get over it,” Killer said. “Movie night maybe?”

“Um… ok. That sounds nice.” But he wasn’t sure if that was exactly the best trade-off. “Um… so… what should I do?”

“Uh, not sure,” Killer said. “We can brainstorm if you want.”

“Alright.”

He was almost giddy with excited nervousness. For about two hours they chatted. Mostly about how Dust should go about asking Blue out, but also about how things have been going.

It was nice to have his friend’s support. Having a plan made it a bit less daunting, but it made it no less nerve-wracking. It would take a few days to gather not just what he needed but also his courage. With Killer’s constant reassurance that he would be there to support Dust if he needed it, he let himself fall asleep on the couch, all the while thinking about his plan. God, he hoped it worked.

Chapter 4: Good Dreams of Bad Things

The morning light was just as pleasant as it was annoying. A strange combination, but one that often floated around Dream’s soul upon waking up. He buried his face against Horror’s chest, half ready to fall back asleep.

He had no idea who all was in bed with him. Dream and Ccino could be bedhogs which is why they had two beds. The room closest to the living room was ‘Dream’s room’, or at least where most of his stuff was, and the other was ‘Ccino’s room’ where all his stuff was. Horror on the other hand didn’t own much of anything. He left everything he owned at Nightmare’s castle, he hadn’t been back since the escape. Killer went back once to get everyone their clothes, and he was also bragging about having torched the place afterwards but no one knew if he was just joking about that or not. Not like it matters, Killer made sure to get everything out that the others requested him to find. Whether the castle was ashes now or left to rot was unknown and unimportant.

Horror switched between sleeping in Dream’s room and Ccino’s room. Some nights, one of them got lonely and went to sleep with the other two, but most nights they stuck to their respective beds. Last night, he was pretty sure that only Horror got into bed with him.

A hand on the back of his skull made Dream hum. With a smile, he tilted his head up to meet Horror’s eye. “Good morning.” He said, voice rough with sleep.

“Morning.” He practically purred. “Did you enjoy our d-date yesterday with Error?”

“Mhm. It was nice. Error seemed very awkward and uncomfortable, but he enjoyed it at least a little.” Dream said. “And I can’t blame him, I was very awkward on our first date as well.” Horror and Dream laughed a little.

“What did you think about h-him?”

“I like him. He’s funny in an unintentional way, I think his energy really matches the group, and I think he’s a good friend. But I feel like I need to spend more time with him before I know if I want him as a boyfriend or not.”

Horror nodded. “Well… Now that he has been d-directly invited to hang out more, we can g-g-get to know him more.” He said. Dream nodded.

It was peacefully quiet for a moment. Then, Dream’s hand moved to rub Horror’s thigh. Horror sighed contentedly.

“Do you remember our first date?” Dream asked. Horror blushed a little bit.

“Yeah…” He mumbled.

It was their first date only by technicality. Dream and Horror had a pretty strange dynamic in the beginning because when they’d ‘met’ (meaning talking without trying to kill each other), it was during a punishment. Nightmare liked to punish Horror by starving him. Two days into the four-day-long punishment, he stumbled across Dream who shared some of Ccino’s pastries with him. After that, they’d always meet up and try restaurants, share new foods, new drinks, and they’d try food trucks and niche restaurants that some people have probably never heard of. But they didn’t go on an ‘official’ date until a year later.

“That burger p-place, yeah?”

“Mhm. You were so nervous. It was so cute.” Dream purred.

“You were n-nervous too.” Horror said.

“I was, but you look so cute when you’re flustered.” Dream said. His hand moved between Horror’s legs. “You get all blushy and fidgety.”

Horror smiled softly, unsure what to say. Dream got on top of him, hands on either side of Horror’s head. They made eye contact for a moment, a tense and hot moment. Then, Dream leaned down and kissed him.

“Do you want to play?” Dream asked seductively. Horror nodded, too flustered to speak. He gently stroked Horror’s cheek. “I am gonna give orders and you’re going to listen. Ok?” He said. Horror nodded again, this time eagerly. “And if you get uncomfortable, just tell me. Alright? Use your words.”

“Okay…” He whispered.

“Good boy.” He purred. He kissed Horror again, warm and passionate. Horror closed his eyes and pressed himself up into the affection. “Turn your head for me.” He ordered. Horror turned his head, pressing his cheek against the pillow.

Dream sucked marks into his neck, hand moving to finger the holes of his sacrum. It required a lot of stimulation to get Horror to summon. But luckily, Dream was patient.

Each touch, each suck on his neck, they were all very calculated, very intentional. Horror whined a little, trying to force his magic to cooperate, but it wouldn’t. Dream sat up when Horror’s neck was marked. Then, he summoned his magic and took his shirt off. Horror watched him undress with intense focus.

“Come on, you can do it.” Dream encouraged. He pulled Horror’s pants down, gently rubbing his pelvic wing as his tongue swiped against his sacrum. “You are always so good for me. My good little slut.” He purred.

Horror’s soul went crazy in his chest. He loved being called Dream’s good little slut. It made his magic boil under the surface, and he used that burst of magic to force his male form to summon.

“Good job! You did so well.” Dream praised. Positive reinforcement was vitally important.

His tongue pressed against Horror’s length, dragging slowly down it. Horror moaned quietly, his head falling against the pillows. Dream made sure to get Horror’s cock as slick as possible, moving teasingly slowly.

And then, Dream sat up. He took his pants off and gently slipped his fingers into his ass. Horror watched Dream finger himself, only growing harder and harder.

“Here is your next order.” Dream moaned, still fingering himself, getting rougher and rougher as he kept talking. “You are going to pin me down and fuck me. You can bite me if you want, you can grab my hips, you can cum in me whenever you want, but you can’t stop fucking me until I say so, ok?”

All he could do was nod. Horror didn’t like biting his partners. Ccino on the other hand loved to bite and bite, marking his lovers with his teeth until it was undeniable who owned them. Horror always feared biting them too hard. Still, it was very important to set boundaries, which is what Dream was doing.

With another unrestrained moan, Dream removed his fingers from himself. That was Horror’s cue to get to his order. He grabbed Dream’s hips and flipped them over.

Dream stared up at Horror with a wolfish grin. But it died when Horror began pushing in. Instead, a look of sloppy pleasure bloomed on his face.

Very carefully, Horror pushed his cock deeper and deeper until he was fully inside. Dream set a hand over his mouth when Horror bottomed out, panting and struggling to collect himself. But he didn’t get the chance. Horror pulled out and then thrusted back in roughly. Dream cried out, wrapping his legs around Horror and squeezing his eyes closed.

The pace that Horror started with was fast and rough. He knew how Dream liked it, he knew how much Dream loved being fucked until he cried. Horror growled a little. He grabbed onto his lover’s hips and pulled him roughly into each thrust.

With his head tossed back, the smaller one panted and moaned. His eyelights rolled back as his legs trembled. A tight knot of pleasure began building in his stomach. With each thrust, that knot only got tighter and tighter.

“Horror! Stars, you’re so-…” He moaned. He let out a high-pitched moan as he came.

And Horror followed orders, not stopping even as Dream came. A pleasured smile spread across Dream’s face. His cock twitched as Horror continued to roughly fuck him, his ass clenched and his moans became even more whorish.

Horror growled again, moaning and groaning without any care for who heard it. He kissed Dream’s face roughly and lovingly. Eventually, he felt his own orgasm growing.

He moaned louder, his hands on Dream’s hips gripped him until he bruised. Horror gasped as he came suddenly, filling Dream up with blistering hot cum. At the same time, Dream came again, his back arching as he sobbed in pleasure.

“Stop.” Dream choked out. Horror did, leaving them both panting and shaking. “Oh stars, that was so good…”

“I love you.” Horror mumbled. He nuzzled his face into Dream’s shoulder.

“I love you too.” Dream said. “Now… let’s clean up and get some breakfast.”

-

Cross has never liked being alone. Ever since he was very young, he has always had a fear of being alone, but it only got worse with age. And it was very irrational, he knew, but he couldn’t help it.

Killer was in the bath right now. He was resting in warm floral-scented water. It was the type of bath that isn’t meant to get clean, it’s just meant to relax and let his mind wander. And that’s why Cross didn’t want to bother him just because he was starting to feel anxious.

He just needed to calm down. Cross took deep, shaky breaths, fidgeting with a pen nervously. It was just a bad day today even before he ended up getting left alone.

Last night, he had a nightmare about walking through a swamp of some kind. Beyond his immediate vision was darkness, as if it were a swamp floating in the void. And as he was walking through this swamp, he started to see dead things in the muck. At first, it was dead animals, deer and possums, and birds lying half-rotting and partially buried in mud and water. But as he continued to walk deeper into the swamp, he started seeing the dead bodies of people he knew. Undyne, Frisk, Chara, Papyrus, people he went through basic training with, people he barely knew, people he saw every day, everyone.

He woke up feeling distressed and lonely even though Killer was sleeping next to him. Everyone is dead. Everyone he knew was gone, yet he was still alive.

Cross anxiously fidgeted with anything he could, but it didn’t do anything to stop his anxiety. He couldn’t help but think if he deserved to be here. There are so many people who were better than him; kinder, stronger, smarter, greater than him. People he cared for more than himself. They didn’t deserve to die, and Cross didn’t know if he deserved to live over them.

The bathroom door opened. He looked up as Killer made his way into the living room. Cross gave him a small smile.

Before he could say anything, Killer sat next to him on his knees on the couch. Then, he pulled Cross into his chest, wrapping his arms around him. Cross leaned into Killer’s chest.

They didn’t need to share any words. At least, not about this. Killer knew what he was feeling. Cross felt guilty about making Killer end his bath early, but he should’ve known that Killer wouldn’t let him suffer like this.

“Come on,” Killer said, getting off the couch and gently tugging on his hand.

Cross stood up, following his lover to the bedroom. When they got in the room, Killer pushed him onto the bed before hurrying to grab something. Killer knew how to help him, he knew what made Cross feel better.

Soon enough, a weighted blanket was thrown into his lap and Killer got into bed with him. Cross pulled it around him, immediately feeling something in his soul get soothed. Killer got behind him, wrapping his arms around Cross and his chin Cross’s skull.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Killer asked softly.

“Um…” Cross tried to think, tried to put his thoughts into words. “I was thinking about my world again. And everyone who died.”

Killer hummed, prompting him to continue. But Cross didn’t know how. Everything he wanted to say was either going to be interpreted wrong or didn’t even begin to explain how he felt.

“There were so many people who didn’t deserve what happened to them. And not just dying, but-… um… Sorry, I meant…” Cross hesitated.

“Don’t rush. I am not going anywhere, so when you think about how to say it, I’ll be waiting.”

He loved Killer so much. Killer also wasn’t the greatest with emotions, but sometimes he said things like that which soothed his soul. Cross relaxed against him, thinking about what he wanted to say.

“They didn’t deserve to die. And I don’t know if I deserved to live. Or at least, not more than they did.” Cross said. Killer frowned. “I don’t want to die, that’s not what I am trying to say. I just don’t know if… You know? I mean… I am sure they didn’t want to die either.”

“Nobody deserves that. And it fucking sucks, it really does. But in the end, obsessing over who deserves to live and die is just going to drive you crazy.” Killer said. Cross sighed quietly. “Sorry, I don’t know how else to help you. I am not a therapist.”

“I am not expecting you too, don’t worry,” Cross said, taking his hand. Killer nuzzled into Cross’s neck.

“Maybe we should get you a therapist for your crazy bad survivor’s guilt.” Killer suggested.

“Maybe…”

He was glad to have his lover here. It made these things easier to bear. And it made him remember that there was so much to look forward to rather than getting stuck on the past.

“We could go on a walk together if you want,” Killer said. Cross smiled a little.

“Yeah, that sounds nice.”

-

He stared down at the tiny ball of fur and claws as if it were a bomb. Error had never pet any sort of creature before, but something in him was compelling him to do it now. Maybe it was that big blue eye looking up at him, maybe it was the fact he was in a good mood.

Cautiously, he rubbed the cat’s head softly. The black fur was very silky smooth, and one of its eyes was missing and seemed to be medically sewn shut. As he gently pet the cat, it began to let out a low rumbling noise and rubbed its face against his hand. Error recoiled slightly before letting the cat rub against his hand again. Slowly, a smile began to bloom across his face.

Error became more confident in his petting, slowly sinking to his knees to sit on the ground. As soon as he was sitting on the floor, the cat hopped off the couch and crawled into his lap. His eyes went wide for a moment, freezing up. The little creature lay down, still rumbling, and rubbing its paws against his leg. Once again, Error started petting the cat once more.

“Hey, Error.” Said a voice. He turned around as much as he could to see who it was. The cat jumped off his lap and trotted over to Ccino, rubbing against his leg and meowing. “Hi, Eclipse.”

“I was petting him. I hope that’s okay.”

“Oh, it’s absolutely fine,” Ccino said, bending over to pet Eclipse. “Some of them don’t like to be pet though. Just hold out your hand to them, if they rub against it, you can pet them.”

“I can relate to that.” Error said. Ccino laughed. He went into the kitchen, making Error stand up and follow. “Weren’t they part of a cat cafe? Why don’t they like being pet?”

“I brought all the ones who aren’t fans of lots of people or being touched, the others are still at the cafe. Eclipse is the only exception. All the other cats are fine, they have automatic food and water dispensers and are ok with being alone. But Eclipse? He’s my little baby, he always wants attention.” Ccino said, smiling as the cat hops up to sit on the counter.

“Mm, I see. So… What happened to his eye?”

“He was a stray before I found him. I am not sure what happened to him, but something cut his eye very badly. It looked like something tried to eat him or something. A dog maybe.” Ccino said. Error cringed at the thought of a cat getting their face chewed on, but Ccino didn’t even react to it. “He bonded to me, he only let me change his bandages and no one else, but after his eye healed up he became a snuggle bug.”

“Aww…”

Error reached out again, petting Eclipse once again. The cat stood up, arching his back into the touch. He smiled a little.

Ccino got some food, then turned to Error with a friendly smile. “I am playing Minecraft right now. Do you want to join?”

“Uh, I don’t know how…”

“I can teach you. Or you could just watch.” Error thought for a moment before he nodded. “Alright, come on.”

They went back to Ccino’s room. Error paused when he walked into the room. He had seen it once before and that was when it had the old bed and wallpaper. Now that everything had been changed, it was very cozy.

The wallpaper was white with rainbow flowers in a uniform pattern. The dark wooden wainscoting paired nicely with the white and the bright colors. As opposed to the old metal bedframe, the new bed was wooden and the same dark color as the wainscoting. The blankets were pale pink and it had lots of pillows on it. White, pink, and beige with various fabrics. And sitting in the middle was a plushie of some kind of reddish fox with a pirate hook and eye patch.

Error got onto the bed, taking the red fox and pulling it into his chest. Ccino sat down next to him and picked up the controller, reclining comfortably against the pillows. Then Eclipse joined them, hopping onto the bed and snuggling in between the two of them.

“Do you want to play or just watch for now?” Ccino asked.

“Um… Can I just watch?”

“Of course,” Ccino said.

The three of them sat there for a while, just enjoying each other’s company. Ccino was showing Error around his Minecraft world. The little cabin he had was cozy and made of pink wood, his mineshaft was well lit and well marked, and the village near his cabin was improved to be less ‘vanilla’ (whatever the hell that meant, Error was just nodding along with whatever Ccino was saying).

“How are you so good at this?” Error asked, completely in awe as Ccino showed off the basement of his cabin. It looked so cozy and inviting with candles and wool and cats.

“I am not that good.” Ccino laughed awkwardly. “But I guess… I guess it’s because I spent a lot of time as a kid and teenager playing games. And just on the internet in general. But eventually, I traumatized myself on the internet and started looking for other hobbies.”

Error gave him a confused look. “How do you traumatize yourself on the internet?”

“Well… I spent a lot of time on shock sites. You know, like… Live Leak and Best Gore.” Ccino said.

“On… what?”

“Um. Never mind. Don’t search either of those.”

“Ok?” He said, very confused. “I don’t understand the internet.”

Ccino laughed quietly. Error shuffled a bit to get more comfortable, closing the space between them a little more. Snuggled in blankets and with tons of pillows at his back, he felt very safe.

“Now I spend a lot more time baking and making drinks,” Ccino said. “And… taking care of my cats. Things that are a lot more pleasant than the darkness the world can offer.”

Error went quiet for a moment. “Does that… work?” Distracting yourself from how terrible the world could be.

“It works for me.”

He hummed in thought. “Maybe I just need a more engaging hobby. When sewing, you can let your mind drift.”

“Have you ever thought about trying to write something?” Ccino asked. Error gave him a confused look. “You mentioned before that you wanted to be a writer when you were younger.”

“Oh! Right. Um… No, I haven’t. Maybe I’ll try that.” Error said.

With that, they settled into a companionable silence. Eclipse purred and purred between them, happy to get all the pets they could spare. And as the day progressed, their conversations flowed more and more naturally and easily. It was nice.

-

“This is your room,” Ccino said. Error stared at it for a moment. “We redid the walls and the lights but then put all the old stuff back because we didn’t know when you’d like.”

“I completely forgot that you guys saved a room for me.” Error said. His hands itched to make a new blanket for that rickety bed. It was a thin blanket stained with paint or maybe bleach or something. Most of it was plain blue, but then it had splotches of color that didn’t look intentional.

“That’s why I thought I should remind you,” Ccino said kindly. “Decorate it however you want, it’s yours now.”

Ever since then, Error had spent more time here and less time in the Anti-Void. He made a nest of strings above the bed so he could sit in it while he made the new blanket for the bed. But even after he made the blanket, he still preferred sitting in his string nest. He just wasn’t used to sleeping in beds. It felt weird.

Staying out of the Anti-Void began changing him. You don’t need to eat, drink, or sleep in the Anti-Void, and as a result of spending so much time there, Error hardly ever had to do those things even when outside of it. But now, he had to do those things at least once a day. It became annoying very fast.

But luckily for him, he had three people who were happy to help him out.

“Error, it’s time for dinner.” Dream said.

“Thank you!” Error said, hopping down from his string nest and trotting over to Dream. “I am starving.”

Dream laughed a little. “You’re always hungry.”

“I’m not used to feeling like this. It sucks.”

“I’m sure you’ll get used to it. It’s just an adjustment period.” Dream assured him.

In the kitchen, they had all the food set up on the dining table. Ccino, Horror, and a whole swarm of cats were around the table. All four little fur balls were waiting to snatch up any food that might fall from the table.

“Hey, Error! Help us settle the debate. Which of my cats is cuter?” Ccino said. “I can’t choose one, but Horror says Noon is cuter and Dream says that Jack is cuter.”

Error looked over at the cats. Mahogany, they just called him Moe, was a brown tabby. He was big, fat, fluffy, and really didn’t like being picked up. It was the first time Error had ever been scratched by a cat because Error almost stepped on him and Moe responded with the LOUDEST meow-cry ever and scratched the hell out of Error. He had a very big personality, but he was adorable.

Jack was incredibly reclusive. He hid under Ccino’s bed or at the top of the cat tree and never came out unless he needed to eat, use the litter box, or scavenge at the dinner table. He was a white cat with striking black markings all over the place and the prettiest green eyes Error had ever seen on a cat.

The other cat in the room was the only female cat in the house. Noon was a grey “Tortishell” cat, according to Ccino, and also their resident escape artist. She always somehow found a way to escape the house, but always came back as well. She was adorable, she didn’t like to be pet but she did like to lie on your chest at night. The smallest of all Ccino’s cats who really REALLY didn’t like Moe. You only ever saw them in the same room when it was dinner time.

Then of course there was Eclipse with his messed-up eye and his other blue eye. Error honestly found him adorable in both appearance and personality. And honestly, that’s why he was Error’s favorite. Although Noon was a close second.

“Eclipse.” Error said decisively.

“Well, that solved nothing.” Ccino sighed.

“You have to have a f-favorite.” Horror said.

“Mmm… I guess… If I had to pick one, I’d say Moe is my favorite.” Ccino said with a cheeky grin.

He was getting used to living like a ‘normal’ person. Eating three meals and sleeping when the house got quiet. But there was one more thing he had to do.

“You know you can take showers here, right?” Dream said. “Sorry! That sounded passive-aggressive. I just meant… You are allowed to do that, so don’t worry.”

“Um… I don’t know how to do that.” Error said. Whenever he got blood or dirt on him, he’d just wash it off in a sink. He didn’t know how to even start taking a shower.

“I c-could help you. If the others a-are ok with it.” Horror added. Dream nodded in approval.

“Oh… Oh, uh, ok.” Error agreed. His face went warm.

The longer he stayed here, the deeper his feelings for these people got. But they still weren’t anything official. At least, not yet. This felt like a step in that direction.

Error grabbed some clothes to change into and went to the bathroom with Horror. The bathroom was under renovation, but it was still usable. Horror told him to set his clothes on the toilet lid and then opened up the shower curtains.

“The left knob is for h-hot water and the r-right is for cold water.” Horror explained. Error nodded, trying to remember that. “That bottle is to clean your bones, that one is for your ecto. I-If you summon it.”

“So… I just… Um…” Error stared at it, confused. He’d never seen a soap bottle before. Or at least, he didn’t remember if he did. Why would a destroyer of worlds ever need to use a soap bottle?

“Like this.” Horror said, taking the bottle. He popped the top, turned it over, and squeezed a bit into his hand. “And then you use this soap on your bones. R-Rub it on them the w-wa-… wash it off. With water.”

“Ok, thank you.” Error said. “Um… Could you… uh… stay? In case I do something wrong. If you’re ok with that.”

“Of course.”

Horror turned around to stare at the door while Error got undressed. It was embarrassing to get naked even if Horror wasn’t looking at him. When he stepped inside, he quickly pulled the curtains shut before starting the water.

“Ah! Hot!” Error cried.

“Turn the cold kn-knob.”

While pressed against the side of the shower, he reached around the water and turned it off. When the water was acceptable temperature, he stepped into the water. It felt really strange, not uncomfortable or painful, just weird.

“N-Need to rinse off my hand.” Horror said, turning on the sink to rinse the soap off of it.

“Sorry about all this.” Error said. “I’ve never used these things before.”

“It’s ok.” Horror said.

Error only grabbed the soap when he was completely soaked. He squeezed a bit onto his hand. Immediately, a lovely smell filled the air.

He brought it close and smelled it. “Ooo. This is nice. What scent is this?”

“Vanilla.”

Error loved the smell of vanilla. He rubbed it on his arms then moved up his shoulders, just enjoying the smell and the warmth. If showers were always this relaxing, he might have to take more of them.

He washed his chest, legs, and neck. Then he moved on to his face. The smell was so good that it was overwhelming. And then soap dripped into his eye.

“Ow! Ow, ow, ow! The soap got in my eye!” Error cried, struggling not to fall over.

“Wash it out with water.” Horror said hurriedly, slurring the words together.

Error put his face under the water and forced himself to open his eyes to wash them out. That hurt too, making him wince. He took a step back, slipping on the water and falling hard to the bottom of the tub.

“Are you o-ok?”

“Oooooooow.” Error groaned. He struggled to stand up, rubbing his tailbone. “Yeah… I slipped.”

“You need to be c-careful about that.”

Error continued getting clean, this time careful not to get soap in his eye or slip. And when he was done, he made sure to turn around and around carefully to wash the soap off. Then, he looked at the other bottle.

“Do I have to clean my ecto?” He asked.

“If you have… um… used it, then y-yeah.” Horror said. Error blushed. “Or if you have h-had it s-s-summoned for a long time. Or if you p-p-pla- or if-… Or if you plan to keep it summoned.”

He used to keep his male form summoned because it was harder to cut through. But should he do that now? He didn’t know if he’d need it.

With a sigh, Error summoned his male form. Why not? It was comfortable.

With skeletons, gender is very fluid. But you could tell by which magic you could most easily summon; male or female. The other one, you had to learn how to summon. As of right now, Error had no idea how to summon a female form.

He wondered if he’d be expected to do that if he ended up dating these three.

Error shivered as he rubbed the vanilla-scented soap against his ecto. He never made contact with his ecto before. Unless it was while gesturing or letting his arms or hands rest at his sides. It felt really good, but at the same time, it made glitches prickle across his body.

“I-I am ready to get out now.” Error said.

“Alright. I am n-not looking.”

He turns off the water before getting out of the tub. Error glanced at Horror’s back before taking the towel from the rack and drying off. He felt so exposed like this, he kept glancing around.

When he put his clothes on though, he felt better. A lot better. Clean, calm, and happy.

“Done.” Error said. Horror turned to him with a smile.

“Not s-so hard, right?”

“Yeah. Thank you.”

“No problem.”

He got used to living like this. It could still be annoying to have so many needs to take care of, but at the same time, it felt good. Satisfying.

But things weren’t always great. Although he enjoyed his life here, he wasn’t free from his nightmares. Tonight was one of those nights when he was plagued with terrifying and upsetting images and nightmares.

Error eventually sighed, getting up from his nest of strings. He opened the door, glancing around the dark hallway. Everything was off except for the living room lights.

It was completely silent in the house. Everyone was asleep, so he couldn’t figure out who’d be in the living room. And despite the renovations, he still couldn’t help but find the place a bit creepy. Error carefully made his way to the living room, constantly glancing behind him.

When he went into the living room, he saw Dream sitting on the couch. He was buried under a blanket and hiding his mouth against a stuffed animal. But when Error came into the living room, he looked up at him.

“Hey.” Error said.

“Hi. Can’t sleep?” Dream asked. Error shook his head. “Me too. Nightmares…”

He patted the spot next to him. Error walked over and sat down. Dream took the end to the blanket and gently threw it over Killer’s lap.

“Do you want to talk about them?” Dream asked.

“I had a dream about being stuck at the bottom of… something. A lake or a pond or the ocean, I don’t know.” Error said, staring out the window. “At first, I could see the sky and the sun, but the longer the dream went on, the more water was above me. Maybe I was shrinking or something. Or maybe the water level was just rising, I don’t know. But eventually, it became so dark that I couldn’t see anything. All of a sudden, I saw these shapes moving in the darkness like something was circling me. Then I wake up.”

Dream hummed, nodding. “That was kind of similar to my dream.” He said softly.

Error inched closer to him, daring himself to lean against Dream. It was easier to do when Dream was covered in a blanket and so they weren’t making direct contact. But the almost contact felt nice. Maybe if Error did this more often, he could eventually get used to direct contact.

“In my dream, it was in a very dark wooden place. I don’t know how, but I knew it was an attic. Actually… I guess I knew it was an attic because it had dusty boxes and stuff. Old toys and racks with clothes and hats.” Dream said. “And as I walked, the attic was freakishly long, and I started seeing mannequins. At first, there were only a few, but then there were more and more and more. Eventually, I was walking through a sea of mannequins, brushing past them and slipping around them. It was hard to get past them all. But eventually, I heard something behind me. This… like… growling… strained sort of… I don’t know, demon noise. I started running, pushing down mannequins as I went. Until I was stopped by a wall. The end of the attic. I set my hands against it, getting more and more panicked, and I realized I was going to die. Then I woke up.”

“How was that like my dream?” Error asked curiously.

“I don’t know. I guess it’s just… It’s because we were both lost in the dark. And something was lurking out of sight.” Dream said.

He hummed in thought and nodded. That made sense. He snuggled down lower into the blankets.

“If you want, I can put you to sleep. If I put you to sleep, it’ll stop you from having nightmares.” Dream said.

“Oh, really?” Error asked. Dream nodded. “That’s pretty cool. But… can’t you just do that to yourself then?”

“No. It doesn’t work like that.” Dream said, sounding apologetic.

“Well then I don’t want it.” Error said stubbornly. He wouldn’t sleep peacefully if Dream couldn’t. Dream gave him a confused and shocked look for a moment before smiling softly. “How about we watch something instead?”

“Yeah… Yeah, ok.”

That’s how they sat all night. They watched movies until the sun came up. Occasionally, one of them would add sleepy commentary about the movie, but otherwise, they just enjoyed each other’s company.

Living here wasn’t bad at all.

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 2 of Gemstone Chandelier