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bang-to-the-tan · 4 years

Text

Moth to Flame

Chapter 12

Reader x OT7

► Vampire!AU

Smut/Porn With Some Plot

Warnings: Reference to Sexual Scenes, Slight Stockholm Syndrome?, Vampires (Biting, Blood-Sucking, Reference to Death), Language

↳ Summary: Robbed of your memories and intended as a birthday present for a deadly creature of the night, you unwittingly become the center of a territorial dispute between two covens of vampires. Tensions are rising and the brothers are getting hungry…

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You find it impossible to mark the passage of time.

Namjoon is gracious enough to allow you a shower before bed (the first time you can recall bathing alone), and by the time you return, staggering and stumbling for the beating you’ve taken, the sheets are clean and the vampire is gone. When you wake up, tangled in blankets that smell too much like him and still wearing the towel, you have no idea whether its daytime, nighttime, early or late. Not that it really matters. Namjoon’s bathrobe swallows you whole in deep navy fluff when you tug it over your naked body, snatching it off a nearby hat rack. Even so, it’s more than nothing, and you are in no way going to put on that jizz-crusted hoodie ever again. You simply pull the ties extra-tight around your waist, pushing the sleeves up as much as you can, wandering out to the main living room. There’s coffee on the bar and the house is seemingly empty, traffic outside occasionally lending itself to a faint, ambient roar.

In a daze, wincing every time you move your legs a certain way, you reach for a nearby mug and pour yourself a cup of what tastes like jet fuel, doing your best to massage the encroaching headache out of your temples. A slip of paper on the counter, written in a lanky, heavy script, tells you that Yoongi is still technically, probably, home—but busy, so try not to ‘bother him’ unless you ‘need him’—in the spare room. Hoseok is at his yoga class. You scowl even at just the sight of his name. You hope he trips over a mat and chokes on his own tongue. Dick.

Namjoon is ‘out’, whatever that means, as shady as that sounds. But he’ll be back by 12, says the note. You glance up to squint at the gritty, green analog clock built into the tiny stove, and it reads 11:37. Great. You slept through most of the potential alone time you could have had…although, do you really want alone time?

You aren’t sure what you want. Could try to run for it. With no idea where you are, clad in an oversized robe, by all accounts smelling like the bloodsucker equivalent of a watering hole in a desert, fighting a monster of a headache. Right.

The couch sags invitingly when you throw yourself at it, and the tv crackles a little when you flick it on with the remote sitting on the end table. Huh. The vampires have Netflix. Who would have guessed. You take another sip of the nastiest, strongest, almost-cold cup of joe you’re pretty sure you’ve ever tasted, sifting through channels and shows before finally settling on some cop drama. Nothing cerebral, just a time killer. The beginnings of that headache has, over just the time you’ve spent meandering, multiplied into something searing, pounding through your eye sockets and straight for the back of your skull. It would make sense for you to be hungry, and you almost consider it, but at this point, you’re hurting so badly that the thought of food has your stomach doing backflips. You end up sprawled on the sofa, pressing a pillow to your face, ignoring the light scent of Hoseok’s body wash and wishing ill on anyone who’s ever so much as looked at you.

“Migraine?”

You stiffen, clutching the pillow closer. It’s difficult to resist the urge to clamp your aching legs shut, but you resist anyway, filled with violent promises at the thought of the owner of that gravelly tone even so much as hinting at doing anything funny.

You can hear Yoongi shuffling about towards the kitchen, the clank of glass as he fishes through a cupboard for a clean mug, the tsk when he can’t find one and the rush of the water when he finally decides to simply rinse one out. It takes a full beat before what he said even registers.

“Migraine.” You repeat, sour and muffled. “Yeah.”

“Sucks.”

“It does.”

The pour of what could probably be classed as chemical warfare, a sniff before you can hear him take a criminally deep swig. He smacks obnoxiously at the taste and you are more appalled at his apparent enjoyment than his manners. He’s making an awful lot of fucking noise as he drags his feet back towards the hallway and you aren’t sure whether you appreciate it or not.

“Ice pack in freezer.” He croaks. “Put it back when it’s warm.”

You follow the sound of his feet—slippers? It sounds like slippers—down towards the spare room, and then the click of the door as he trudges through it and pulls it shut behind him.

You wait.

But there’s no indication that it’s a trap. A game. Just the quiet resuming; the occasional scream of a car going too fast, honking in the distance. The pillow slides off your face slowly so you can properly glare in the direction of the front door, still not fully convinced. Eventually, motivated by the pain rattling your bones, you drag yourself off the sofa and towards the half-sized freezer. True enough, there’s a pack situated next to the ice, filled with some kind of bean and delightfully cold. It’s shaped like a turtle, complete with googly eyes, vaguely t-shirt material dyed green and faded from use. Vampires get migraines…? Very little in the universe matters when you press it to your eyes curiously and immediately feel a rush of relief. You turn the volume on the tv way down and resume your position, but now with your new best friend laid across your brow and cheeks. God, if only vampires also had medication. Maybe Yoongi knows if there’s aspirin in this house. Hmm…on second thought, asking him sounds like a bad idea. Who knows what kind of mood he’s actually in. And god knows you are in no shape to deal with the ramifications if he can’t control himself. Or yourself. You grimace, and then wince when even just the pulling of your facial muscles lends itself to pain.

The world spins above you, but somehow you drift off, despite feeling your heartbeat in your teeth. You slip into something between dream and reality, your sense of self dissolving into nothing. There’s only one thing that remains constant between half-dreams and thoughts that slip through your fingers like sand: Jin. His voice, dragging on into forever. He’s talking constantly, but not to you. There’s no affection in his voice, but it still sounds important. You can’t be bothered to understand any of it. Something about clocks? Protests?

The only way you can tell that you’ve fallen asleep is that suddenly you’re awake, and aware of a warm palm slipping beneath the turtle to feel at your forehead. You don’t bother panicking. It’s Namjoon. You can smell him. You hate that you can fucking smell him, and you hate the comfort that curls in your stomach the second you recognize his scent. Bastard. You aren’t glad he’s home. You aren’t. You will the universe to stop revolving around the feeling of the pads of his hand brushing your hairline, and fail.

“It’ll be cold, dumbass,” you seethe, unable to move your mouth too much, eyes still closed. “On account of the cold pack.”

“Feeling if you’re clammy, dumbass,” Namjoon returns smoothly. “You look sweaty.”

“Fuck you.”

He chuckles above you, his wide hand retreating from your skin, allowing cool bean heaven back onto your eyeballs where it belongs. “You look sick, are you feeling okay?”

That warrants you moving the turtle just enough to glare at him through your lashes, the light smearing his outline like a rushed painting.

“Do I look like I’m feeling okay?”

“No, you look sick,” he reiterates, eyes defensive. He hesitates with a huff, mouth quirking. You slide the ice pack back over just so you won’t have to admire his plump lips anymore. “Did…did you feel sick at Jin’s? Maybe it’s…I mean…”

“It probably is your fault,” you grumble.

“You think so? I don’t know. We’ve never…”

“Pretty fuckin’ likely.”

“I looked it up, and sometimes women get migraines after their periods.” God, he’s still talking. You groan, turning, curling further into the couch, pressing your forearm to the cold pack to convince it even closer. If you could get it under your skin, you would without hesitation. “So maybe it’s the blood loss?”

“Apology accepted.”

“I haven’t—“

“Joon, seriously, please.”

He’s quiet for a blissful second.

“Was it last night?”

“Namjoon.”

“Sorry.”

You feel a nudge at your hand. On reflex, you relax your fingers, feeling something press into your palm. You roll it discerningly with your fingertips, uninterested in moving to look at it. A pill?

“There’s water on the stand.” His voice returns, this time hushed. “Yoongi said you had a migraine so I got you some medicine on my way home.”

A decent man, a good man. God bless Yoongi. You take it without hesitation, feeling upwards for the promised drink and finding it easily. It’s a task to press it to your lips without moving the turtle, but you manage, and by the time you’ve set it back on the side and sunk back into the cushions, you feel as though you’ve done enough moving for the year.

“Can I sit here?”

You aren’t thrilled by his continued insistence on saying things, but he’s brought drugs and lowered his volume enough that you offer him a begrudging grunt. The sofa creaks when he settles into it by your feet, his thigh pressing into the pads of your feet comfortably. He’s warm where denim meets your skin and you immediately pull away, twitching. There’s no point, there’s nowhere to go, and eventually you have to allow it.

In the quiet, you realize that the low noise in the background is actually Jin, still talking. He’s holding a conversation with a woman whose voice you don’t recognize. They’re discussing something political—you don’t have any context but it sounds like an ongoing issue of grave importance. Confused, you peek up at the tv and sure enough, there he is, seated in an uncomfortable-looking chair, set against a mock-up of a city skyline. He makes that suit look good, smart and casual, hair styled perfectly. You forget how perfect his skin is, the softness of his pink lips, the way his eyes glitter underneath dark brows. But there’s something vacant about him that you don’t like. When he looks to his cohost, it lacks the tenderness you remember. Your heart twinges, and you could swear the emotion that you feel is longing. Disgusting.

It suddenly occurs to you that just as long as you’ve been watching Jin speak, so has Namjoon. You hazard a glance at him from under the ice pack.

He’s leaning back into the couch, one arm slung over in your direction, the other settled against his thigh. The light of the tv plays over the planes of his face, glints off his hair with unnatural blues and reds. There’s something odd in his expression. His eyes are proud, soft, gentle. But his lips are taut, annoyed, and he’s obviously deep in thought. His jaw ticks when the camera pans back over to Jin, brow creasing.

“What happened?” you mumble. You know he can hear you but he pretends like he can’t. You nudge his thigh with your foot, frowning. “Come on, Namjoon, you owe me. For last night.”

“I apologized for that.” His voice is quiet. He doesn’t look at you.

“Then for everything else. Just until the meds kick in. Tell me a story.”

“I wanted to take you out today,” he diverts. “But if you still aren’t feeling alright in like a half hour, we’ll go tomorrow—“

“I want to know what happened between you and Jin.”

He falls silent. You aren’t sure whether you should push it, but surely there has to be some sway to the way he’s been treating you. You’re considering the best ways to coerce it out of him when he speaks up again.

“I don’t remember who gave it to me. Being like this.”

You squash the excitement, the victory, that rises in your chest in favor of a curious noise. “No?”

“No. It was a long time ago. But I tried…” he clears his throat and shifts. “I tried to keep going to school for a while after. College; just community, but something.”

“And Jin?”

“I found him by accident. There was a bus I used to take to campus. He rode on it every day. Never saw him get off. He had this stare…” He shrugs. You watch him raise his hand to rub at his lips, eyes distant. “One day I just…didn’t get off at the school. Just followed him. I dunno what I was thinking, but I swear I could sense it in him. We got to talking, and…”

Namjoon’s chuckle reverberates through the sofa, warms your bones. “I mean, fuck, what do you do when you feel like the only person on the planet and suddenly you’re meeting someone just like you? Of course we teamed up. Tried to figure it all out. Realized we could haze people. Moved in together. Shared everything.”

You scoot more comfortably into the couch, allowing your eyes to dip closed.

“Met Yoongi and Hobi after that. Jin had…a thing for being in control of a situation. I was always the ‘leader’ once we realized there was such a thing as covens. Groups of people like us with territories and shit. I’d meet with them sometimes, talk about those things in alleyways and bowling alleys, diners—diplomatic. But he was always keeping things tied down at home. He was always trying to make sure we were all okay. I guess it comes with being the oldest.”

He pauses.

“I have no idea when he was changed, actually. He never talked about it and I never pushed. I know he’s older, though. I always looked to him for answers. But after Jimin and Taehyung—it got complicated. Tae was a decision we made together, and Jimin…Jimin was my fault. I went behind Jin’s back for Jimin. He wasn’t happy. Finding victims who the haze worked on, avoiding police—it was rough back then and we couldn’t afford another mouth to feed. Could barely keep a handle on Taehyung, once he woke up. I shouldn’t have done it.”

His hand alights on your knee, rubbing absently. There’s nothing sexual in it; you aren’t even sure whether he’s aware he’s doing it. It feels nice. It feels really nice. You choke back whatever emotion that’s trying to bring forth in you.

“I don’t regret it,” he adds hastily. “I don’t regret it. We were a family. But it only got worse. Jin was upset that I didn’t ask him and I upset that I apparently had to. Who said he was my keeper anyway? We were supposed to be partners...A lot of stuff came out. Differences in opinion. We argued constantly. There were rumors of cops getting too close, and we were so scared of being found out. In the end, Yoongi and Hobi and I decided to leave. Jin decided to stay.” He snorts. “And we all know how that ended up.”

“How did that ended up?” you murmur.

“Jungkook.” He says his name like it’s the punchline to a joke. “It ended up with Jungkook. After all that shit about scarcity and keeping a low profile.”

You mull over what he’s saying.

“Jungkook said you hate him.”

“I don’t hate him.” Namjoon replies quickly, pulling a sigh through his nose, like he’s had this conversation countless times already. “I don’t like what he represents. That Jin can just do whatever he wants to do. That he doesn’t have to listen to anyone else. That earth and heaven can and should orbit around Jin, and everyone else just falls in line. Jin, the martyr.”

“He works hard.”

“He does. We all do.”

“He misses you.”

“That’s a step.”

You try again. “Jimin misses you.”

His chuckle catches even him by surprise, becoming a snort. “Now that I believe.” There’s a beat of quiet. His voice goes soft. “Jimin always was happiest when we were all together.”

“What about you?”

Another moment of silence passes. His hand on your knee tightens, thumb rubbing gently, as if afraid to let go.

“I don’t know. I’m happy sometimes.”

“When?”

“How are you feeling, by the way?” Your leg feels cold when he moves his hand to brush his palm beneath the turtle again. You peer at him through the cracks in your eyelashes, and for a moment you could almost believe you can see how long he’s been alive. It’s written in the slope of his eyes, his brow, the tight line of his lips pursed in what nearly passes for a smile. He looks tired. Unbelievably tired. “Good enough to go shopping?”

“Shopping?”

“For clothes. You can’t wear my bathrobe forever.”

“Who’s bathrobe? This one’s mine.”

He snorts again, turning away to pat your ankle. “Good enough to sass me back means good enough to go. I’ll ask Yoongi if you can borrow his sweats.”

The couch squeaks in protest when he gets up, and you turn away into the cushion. It’s a lot to think on. You aren’t sure a sad story mostly made of being needlessly catty to each other makes up for kidnapping and…well, probably murder (you’re not gonna think on that one too heavily) but it’s definitely a rough situation. You almost feel bad. You almost feel…sympathetic. What’s the word? Stockholm. It takes a lot of self-control not to roll your eyes at yourself.

The turtle begins to levitate off your eyes independent of your will and you whine, clutching at it, casting a glance upwards. It’s Namjoon leaning over the couch at you, tugging at the turtle with a pinch of fabric.

“Yoongi said he’d trade sweatpants for the turtle.”

You frown up at him, hands falling to your sides, relinquishing the item in question. “Would he rather I didn’t wash the sweatpants either when I return them?” you ask dryly.

“He didn’t say as much, but probably.” He’s straightening, already on his way to make the trade, tossing the pack up and catching it deftly with long fingers as he goes.

Hold on a second.

“You didn’t give him back the dirty vibrator, did you, Namjoon?” you ask, suddenly horrified.

No reply. The door to the spare room clicks open and you sit up just in time to watch him disappear behind it.

“You didn’t, right, Namjoon??” You raise your voice, but flinch back, fingers flying to rub at your temples again. The headache’s better, but it isn’t gone. You’re no longer on the brink of dying, at least, but you’ll be tender for a while yet, you suspect. Long enough to get clothes.

What even is the point?

You throw another look at the far door.

Who would bother buying clothes for you if you weren’t going to be around for much longer? There’s the thought that turns your blood icy.

Are you going to be around for much longer? How does this all end? Fuck, you miss being hazed, you miss not thinking about these things, you miss not having to care. Your head pounds.

For a moment, in the stillness, the tiny apartment with the tv on quietly and the traffic outside, you are the only human being on the planet.

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#bts smut #bts vampire au #bts fanfic #bts x reader #moth to flame #reader x namjoon #i KNOW I KNOW #bad spex putting exposition in dialogue #listen having joon even vague about the past made me realize how much i put in there #and oops #i made more #SIGH

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idontcaretbh · 5 years

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Secret for the Mad

(kinda) slow burn Ironstrange fanfic. Originally posted on AO3 by my account Toxictimefanfics. Please come bug me on Discord! https://discord.gg/dNrb37M

Chapter 1: Magic (Mystery Skulls)

Doctor Stephen Vincent Strange is broken. He’s done his fair share of healing though it’s becoming far too much for him to do alone. He is among the newest Avengers, as such he’s staying with all the others in the Avengers tower. It’s hard to get used to, given that he’s constantly surrounded by the most dangerous people on Earth. Something he can’t seem to comprehend is Stark. Anthony Edward Stark is quite the character. He’s arrogant, egotistical, vain, and worst of all he’s self centered and narcissistic. He’s all of these things that annoy Stephen to his very bones, then why does he also have to be kind, caring, affectionate, and charitable, not to mention down right gorgeous?

Stephen is awoken one night due to the constant pain in his hands. With a sigh he gets up and exits his room. It’s late, four in the morning to be exact. Once in the hall he proceeds to the living room balcony wearing exactly what he wore to bed in the first place, horrible bright pink sweatpants and an old gray sweatshirt. He’s surprised to find someone else on the balcony by the time he gets there. Not wanting to scare whoever it is too bad Stephen decides to knock on the edge of the open sliding glass door, the mystery person whirls around to reveal a disheveled Tony Stark.

“Stark.” Stephen says joining Tony at the railing, looking out at the beautiful view they have of New York.

“Strange.” Tony says in reply turning back to the view.

“You look like shit, couldn’t sleep?” Stephen asks the other with a playful grin. In return Tony only laughs and punches the taller man in the arm.

“What about you all high and mighty? Certainly the ‘Sorcerer Supreme’ needs his sleep?” Tony asks in his all too common childish voice.

Stephen chuckled then responded, “I asked you first asshole.” To which Tony sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.

“It’s just we’ve all been through a lot lately. Sure the whole Thanos thing left everyone rattled but everyone’s seemed to have bounced back from either literally dying or seeing their best friends die.” He paused for a moment letting the other respond.

“You haven’t ‘bounced back’ though, have you?”

“Isn’t that obvious? The kid literally died in my arms while begging me to make it stop. I couldn’t stop it. And you know what? I blamed you for part of that.”

“Oh really? And why’s that?”

“You literally gave Thanos the fucking time stone after telling me and Peter that you wouldn’t mind sacrificing us if it meant protecting the damn thing. So I blamed you for giving the madman the power he wanted.”

“Truth be told I did have a plan, doing something stupid just happened to be part of the plan.” Strange shrugged with the end of his sentence.

“It was such a fucking stupid plan, Strange. You all died and left me and Nebula alone on Titan. We literally had no idea what to do. She’s actually great company once you get to know her.”

“I’ll have to talk to her then, probably even thank her for helping you save everyone.”

“Hell yeah, you’ll probably like her, she’s actually super funny once she’s comfortable around you.”

“Noted, but Stark you were always part of the winning plan.”

“I was?”

“You were the one who killed the titan were you not?”

“Well yeah but anyone in my position would have done the same.”

“But it wouldn’t have worked Tony!” Stephen nearly yelled in his frustration. “If it were anyone else it wouldn’t have worked. It had to be you.” He said quietly, returning the silence, only this time it’s extremely uncomfortable.

“I literally thought I was going to die so many times Strange. You scared the hell out of me, you know?” Tony sighed. “I was so damn scared Stephen.” The conversation took an odd turn when the scientist moved his hand to rest on the doctor’s making the other hiss in pain. “Oh sorry! I didn’t realize that would hurt you.”

“I thought you were more observant than that Anthony.” The sorcerer sighed and looked down at his hands. “Terrible car accident, crushed my hands.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

“It’s alright it’s not your fault, I suppose I should wear those gloves less?”

“Oh my GOD yes! Those things are hideous! They don’t go with the rest of your usual outfit at all! Yellow doesn’t go with red or blue!” Tony defended much to Stephen’s amusement.

“I won’t argue with you. I assume nobody knows just how mangled my hands are since I hide them all the time?”

“Damn straight. And here I thought I had you all figured out Strange.”

“Is that so?”

“Well, other than literally all the fucking wizard shit I don’t understand. You’re an ass.”

Stephen chuckled a bit at Tony’s response but thought of a simple solution to him not understanding: Show him.

“Well, I could show you some things if you’d like.” The sorcerer said, turning to the other with a grin.

“That sounds real cool doc, but I can’t have you destroying the place. Not that I’m accusing you of wanting to, You just can’t be too careful with all the Avengers in one building.” Tony rambled and was surprised to hear the taller man start laughing at what he had to say about the situation.

“I have a solution for that.” Stephen said matter-of-factly, raising his hands and performing a spell in one fluid motion, instantly what looked and sounded like shattered glass surrounded them, “this is the mirror dimension, what happens in here doesn’t have any effect on the real world, what happens here, stays here. Oh! And nobody can see us.” He rambles with a grin.

“Alright then Dumbledore, let's see what you've got.” Tony responds, amusement evident in his tone.

“First off, never call me that again, secondly, you're going to want to hold on to that railing.”

“What are you talking about Stra-” Tony starts before the part of the balcony he was standing on shot into the air Stephen following soon after. “What the hell was that Strange?!” Said man stepped onto the platform Tony was standing on and made his own shrink back down.

“Easy, I'm simply showing off.” He said with a wave of his hand, in a split second the platform both men were standing on broke off and began lazily drifting over the city.

“I don't usually have the luxury of seeing the city from this height without something needing to be saved.” Tony breathed out. “It's amazing, you know, despite the glass shards.”

“I'd rather not even attempt bringing us out of the Mirror Dimension, manipulation of the world is practically impossible unless we're here.” Stephen explains, moving his hands to bend and distort the multitude of buildings in the city below.

Tony watched it happen with a look of astonishment and pure wonder. Stephen thinks it's adorable, even if he knows the other man is trying to explain everything he sees with every form of science he can think of.

“What else can you do?” Tony asked out of the blue after roughly ten minutes of watching the distorted buildings.

“Well, you've seen a lot of what I can do when we're in a fight. But here.” Stephen says, conjuring a small shield. “This thing can actually block a lot more than you'd think.”

“Do you think it'd be able to take on both of the repulsors of my newest suit?”

“Probably.” Stephen chuckles and gets rid of the shield.

“You never answered my question by the way.” Stephen turns to the engineer with a questioning look.

Tony sighs before explaining. “ I asked why you're up this late.”

“It's my hands actually. I've gone through so many surgeries that the pain is unavoidable at times.” Stephen explains, holding up his shaking, heavily scarred hands for the other to examine.

“I might be able to help with that.” The engineer replied with a yawn. “We should probably head back though, people will be wondering where we disappeared to.”

Confused, the sorcerer asked for the time, they had been talking for almost two hours meaning some of the early risers would be getting up soon.

“You're right.” He relented, setting everything in their surroundings back to normal and opening a portal out of the Mirror Dimension. They parted ways promising they'd talk more once they'd had some sleep.

#ironstrange fanfiction #iron man #doctor strange #fandom #fantasy #fanfic #ao3 fanfic

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promisedangel · 5 years

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Aftertale Reset

After so, so, SO long, I finally have this oneshot done. This is based on a hella old prompt I’ve kept tucked away in case people donated to my Ko-Fi account, and it’s happened! Convenient timing, since our dear Crayon Queen has told the remaining scraps of Error’s (now Geno’s tale). But, this is a turn away from that story.

Aftertale belongs to @loverofpiggies

Enjoy!

The surface. The sun. Everything Sans, Geno, that all of monsterkind had dreamed of for centuries was finally theirs. The humans in the immediate towns surrounding Mount Ebbot were mostly accepting of monsterkind. Though, the further they strayed, it seemed humankind was less accepting. It wasn’t perfect, but it felt like a dream compared to Asgore’s once declaration of war against humankind. Geno, at the very least, could spend his days no longer trapped. Able to see the sky and the stars clearly through his new pair of glasses, given to him by Alphys. Able to meet new humans and make new friends. It was all a blissful dream he’d never thought he’d experience.

But Geno woke up. He felt groggy at first. The sudden splitting headache didn’t help. He thought he was seeing things. He thought he saw himself in his old room in his old house in Snowdin. In the underground of Mount Ebbot. He could have sworn he didn’t have any alcohol last night, what little he could actually drink without ruining the seat under him. If it wasn’t that, was this a practical joke by Sans? A sick one at that.

I didn’t do anything. Geno paused. That thought just then, it went through his skull, but it wasn’t his own thought. He somehow knew it was separate. Geno spoke aloud, “…Sans?” The thoughts seemed to respond, to coalesce into a voice inside his skull, ‘Yeah?’ Geno stood from the bed, dumbfounded, “What… the hell happened last night?” The body shrugged, but Geno knew he didn’t move the arms. Before Sans could reply, his eye glowed with worry. Geno quickly turned his soul blue to check his suspicions. It was one soul. One, perfectly whole, monster soul.

Geno and Sans both saw the soul through the same eyes. This wasn’t right. They’ve been separated, fragmented souls for so many resets. Why did they fuse? Another question, but it was still nothing compared to the one that weighed so heavily on their skull; was this the underground?

Geno nearly jumped out of bed. He turned to the window slightly askew from the head of his bed. The sight beyond would stop any breath, if he had need of any. A few rows of tall, snow-topped pine trees lay just outside the window. Beyond was a lake, sprinkled with a few blocks of ice to flow downstream. Geno leaned forward. This time he was slow. Geno began to shake as he slowly opened the window. He leaned out and looked up. He and Sans were both silent at the sight. Far above them were hundreds upon hundreds of stalactites. From the water they dripped, came the snow he and Sans had become familiar with for years. This was Snowdin. This was the underground. A tear peaked from their shared skull. The timeline had reset.

Geno gripped the windowsill tightly. He gritted his teeth. The single blue eye began to burn bright as a scowl drew across his face. He hissed, “They broke their promise.” Sans sighed, ‘They wouldn’t reset for just any reason-‘ Geno’s grip crushed down on the windowsill. Some small bits of it fractured in his hands. Geno growled aloud, “It doesn’t matter! Frisk promised they’d never reset, and they did!” Geno curled his hands into fists, “I’ll kill them.” Sans began to protest, ‘No!-‘ Before Sans could protest more, Geno teleported out of the room. The next thing Sans knew, he was near the ever familiar door of Home. Behind it was Toriel, still in a self-made exile. Behind it was Flowey, never able to claim a single soul and become Asriel. Behind it was Frisk, at the first point of their journey through the underground.

Geno quickly sat down in the snow. He set their sights squarely on the door, ready to move at a moment’s notice. Sans sighed at this. He tried to keep an even tone, “Look, we don’t know what happened. We can at least talk to the kid before you try to kill them, right?” Geno grumbled. The blue eye finally faded as he spoke, “Why should give them another chance? We’ve given them too many, and then when everything is finally looking bright…” Geno pounded his right fist into the snow, “We get shoved back into the dark! I’m done giving them chances.” Sans smirked, “You sure you’re not confusing Frisk with Chara?” Geno groaned, “That. Doesn’t. Matter.” “Kinda does when you’re going all geno-cidal on a kid.” Geno huffed and replied dryly, “Very funny.”

Sans leaned back into the snow. He concentrated on the snow that formed above them, forcing Geno to look at the snow as well. Time passed slowly. Sans could feel Geno calm down somewhat, yet knew he wouldn’t be deterred so easily. He had a long time to wait for a happy ending. Let alone one he could partake. Waiting for Frisk to exit the ruins of Home felt almost just as long. Sans sighed, “Tibia honest, I’m not happy about this either.” Geno rolled their eye sockets, “You’re not gonna convince me not to kill the kid.” Sans turned on their side, “And then what?” “What do you mean?” Sans began to sketch in the snow with a finger, “If Frisk is the one who reset, then they’re just gonna reset again after we kill them.” Geno paused. He curled the hand that sketched. It dragged in the snow and ruined the circular drawing. He shook. His voice began to break, “It won’t… happen… I…” Sans calmly shook their skull, “I know. I don’t want to be here either. I was tired of my frozen bones. Tired of the repeats.” Geno ceased the shakes. He sneered, “Says the one who doesn’t remember most of them.” “Doesn’t mean this doesn’t rattle me.” Geno sat up, “I get it! This situation sucks! But, at least I want to do something about it!” Sans gave a smarmy remark, “Have ya ever thought about asking the kid? Maybe something bad happened on the surface while we were asleep? Maybe Alphys got hit by a car and the kid overreacted?” Geno blinked for a moment. He snickered, “And I thought I was the morbid one!” Sans chuckled, “Well, I am you, sorta.”

The two heard a noise. Both immediately took the body in sync to look towards the door to Home. The two also stood, and Geno tensed a hand. He was ready. Sans relaxed the body slightly instead, to counter Geno’s tension. The two saw the door open slightly. Only enough to peek through. Geno growled lightly and spoke quietly, “They’re hiding. So, they are guilty.” Sans huffed, “Probably just as confused as we are.” A few moments passed in silence. The door opened. The small, familiar human stepped out of Home and into the edge of the Snowdin Forest. Frisk closed the door behind them. They frowned at the familiar scene of the Snowdin Forest. A chill ran up their spine, but they felt it wasn’t the cold that caused this. Just off the path, past the bush that held one of Alphys’s hidden cameras, was a familiar face; Sans. Yet, he seemed different. His expression constantly changed, almost twitching. He seemed at odds with himself. Frisk could see slight embers of his blue eye, as though Sans was fighting not to use his magic. Frisk began to step towards Sans without a word. Sans shouted out, “Watch out!” Frisk’s eyes widened. They moved immediately. Where they stood, a cage of bones shot out from the ground, one that would entrap and possibly hurt them. Geno growled at Frisk, “Y O U L I A R!” Frisk pleaded, “I didn’t reset!” Geno roared at Frisk, “Then how are we back here?!” Another cage of bones sprung up. This time they successfully surrounded Frisk. Frisk shook in the confines of their cage. Sans held back the body. For a moment, the single blue eye faded to his normal white. He smiled, “Sorry, kid, we’re trying to figure this out, too.” Frisk gave a befuddled look, “Huh?” Geno took control once more. His eye lit with magic. He kept his tone low, “We’re fused, kid.” Geno briefly used blue magic on the complete soul to show Frisk. Frisk shed a tear, “That’s-“ Geno growled his interruption, “And it’s your fault!” Frisk shook their head, “I swear! I didn’t reset! I’ve never even seen the save screen since we went to give you the pie!” Sans spoke calmly, “Geno, I think they’re telling the truth.” Geno growled, “And how would you know?!” Sans shrugged, “The kid was trapped in the save screen with ya. Tell me, does that look familiar?”

Geno locked his gaze on Frisk. A few tears fell from Frisk’s eyes. Their legs shook, but stood so they would not be damaged by the bones. Their lips quivered, their eyes wide. They were scared, and they knew what Geno was capable of. Yet, sorrow and confusion was present most of all. Geno paused. This was familiar. It was close to the expression Frisk gave when he trapped them in the cage. Not the fear of retribution he saw when Frisk first entered the save screen. He relaxed. Doubt began to weed its way in his skull. He sighed, “I shouldn’t trust you, not after everything you did. After you broke your promise. But… I’ll hear your side at least.”

Geno frowned. The cage of bones dispersed from around Frisk. Frisk fell into the cold snow on their knees. They looked up at Geno with worry. He glared down at them, his eyes back to the normal white, but they still pierced through to the soul. His tone was low as he spoke, “You’ve got five minutes to change my mind.”

Frisk nodded. Their expression became calm as they spoke, “I honestly don’t know what happened. I had a good evening with mom. We relaxed with some butterscotch-cinnamon pie for dinner and we each read a book by the fireplace. She tucked me in before bed. I thought this was a dream, but when Flowey attacked me like always, I felt pain.” Sans sat the body down, “So, you’re just as confused as us.”

Frisk nodded silently before Sans spoke again, “Was anything different about Flowey? What about Toriel?” Frisk shook their head, “No. Nothing out of the ordinary.” Geno narrowed his eyes, “Flowey should have noticed something. You're sure?” “I’m sure. I think he’s used to all the resets.” Sans shrugged, “Okay, well, can you think of anything else that could be different? A different line, an object across the room, or a monster missing?” Frisk perked up at the last item in Sans’s list, “There was someone missing.” Both Geno and Sans spoke, “Who?” Frisk answered with a frown, “Chara.”

The three of them went silent. It felt as though all the day’s snow would fall upon them at once. Sans broke the silence, “Chara… they disappeared in the save screen. They passed on.” Frisk frowned. They hugged themselves. They answered quietly, “They did.” Geno scowled, “Chara was the only one that could match your determination.” Sans frowned, “Yeah, well Chara’s gone.” Geno stood, “There’s one place they could be. The save screen.” Frisk frowned, “It could make sense, but I don’t know.” Geno glared down at Frisk, “If it wasn’t Chara, then the reset had to have been your doing. Understood?”

Frisk shook. They nodded silently. Sans butted into the conversation, “Well, there’s one problem. Whether this is Chara or not, we don’t know how to get to the save screen.” Geno frowned, “Tibia honest… I’m not sure either. I’m not injecting that determination again to try that!” Sans muttered, “No one was suggesting it.” Frisk stood, “We have all been to the save screen. There must be some way we can get back there.” Geno stressed, “Besides dying.” Frisk nodded, “How did Sans get to the save screen?” Geno lifted his hand to his chest, “I used the connection of our shared soul to bring him into the save screen. That obviously won’t work. What about you?” Frisk shrugged, “I was trapped there when Chara took over my body.”

The three went silent once more to think through his problem. Frisk perked up after a minute of silence, “I could… try and focus on that place. I… should still be connected… it is my save file, after all.” Geno approached Frisk, “Yeah, but you’re not going alone. If I let you, then you’ll be able to reset again, and we risk completely forgetting everything.” Frisk smiled, “Of course.” Sans stopped in front of Frisk. Frisk closed their eyes. They put their hands on their chest. A long breath escaped them as they focused on their soul. Energy welled and started to flow from it until the shape of a red heart glowed on Frisk’s chest. Frisk turned their thought and this energy to the save screen. All their determination. All their focus on this one place. Geno frowned. He could tell Frisk was struggling. He placed a hand on Frisk’s shoulder very gingerly. He closed his eyes and began to concentrate as well. He focused with his own determination. Sans joined in without hesitation. The three stood there in concentration for a few moments until they all felt a familiar sensation. Frisk’s eyes shot open in shock. Around them, colors and shapes began to glitch and fade. All of a sudden, black dominated their vision. They all disappeared from Snowdin Forest in an instant.

Frisk fell to their knees with heavy breaths. At once, they felt as though most of their energy was sapped. Sans kneeled down to Frisk, “Kid…” Geno turned his gaze to the dark surroundings. Pitch black surrounded them, yet they could see each other with ease. Behind him, he sees the familiar sight. The patch of grass with stone surrounding it. The two giant words in the sky above the grass. In bright yellow, ‘Continue’. In pure white, ‘Reset’. Something caught his eye. Curled on the patch of grass was a small figure. The first thing Geno noticed was the long, perfectly straight, chocolate brown hair. He noticed a sweater; mostly green with a single yellow stripe. Geno’s blue eye shone immediately; he had the gut feeling from what he could see; Chara. Yet, he hesitated. Something was different. He heard small sobs from the small form. He could see they were holding their hands against their head tightly. Most disarming of all, he could partially see through Chara. They were not opaque.

Frisk recovered quickly. They heard Chara’s quiet sobs. They stood and spoke curiously, “Chara?” Chara didn’t react to Frisk’s quiet voice. Frisk frowned at this. Geno stepped forward and growled loudly, “You little brat!” Chara reacted with a gasp. They turned sharply towards the source. Despite their rosy cheeks, their expression was of pure terror. Their eyes were widened, but puffy and red. Tears still dripped down their face. Slight imprints of red are near the sides of their head from pressing their hands to their ears.

Geno summoned a few blasters. They continued to build energy. Sans held his skull and shouted out, “Stop!” The blasters fired. Chara yelped and ducked down. The beams passed just over them. Chara stayed on the grass and shook. Geno growled and held his skull, “What’s wrong with you?! It’s obvious they reset!” Sans retorted, “You can’t kill here, numbskull!” “Doesn’t mean I can’t punish them for what they did!” “For what I did?!” Chara’s voice cut through the tension in the save screen. From their downed position, Chara’s gaze was an intense mixture of anger and anguish. The slowly stood as they spoke, their tone dark and low at first, “Tell me, was the surface fun? Everything you could have ever wanted?” Chara stood with a crazed smile, “Or was it a nightmare?” Frisk shook but stood their ground next to Sans and Geno. Geno and Sans seemed to shake as the two fought for control once more. Chara frowned deeply in response to this silence, “It doesn’t matter, in the end. How the surface was. How humanity reacted. How monsterkind found its freedom.” Their tears began again, “Not for me. Stuck here. Knowing you all got your perfect little ending.” Chara broke into sobs and shouted, “Where’s my happy ending? Why do I have to sit here and suffer alone, while you all enjoy everything?!”

Chara dropped to their knees. They began to loudly wail into their hands. Everyone began to relax, even Geno, confused as he was. Chara’s wails subsided quickly into sobs. Frisk approached Chara slowly. They spoke gently with a confused tone, “I don’t understand. You disappeared–you passed on. Didn’t you?” Chara sniffled. They looked up at Frisk, “I… I thought I did, too.” Sans sighed, “Why don’t you start where we left off?” Geno growled inside Sans’s mind, ‘This is a dumb idea.’

Chara nodded silently. They took a deep breath before they spoke, “It felt calm at first. All I could see was darkness. I… I didn’t understand what had happened. I concluded it was what happened to souls that pass on.” Chara hugged themselves, “Then… I began to feel numb.” Chara began to shake slightly, “It was though something was sapping all my ability to feel anything. All of it replaced with this… presence.” Geno and Sans perked up, “Presence?” Chara nodded, “It… is hard to describe. I no longer felt alone. Yet, this presence was far from inviting. My thoughts began to change, as though I was convincing myself to stay. Not in a comforting way. I thought I was going to lose myself…” Frisk gave a worried tone, “What kind of thoughts?” Chara shook their head, “Most of them were jumbled. I… Don’t know how long I was there… but one thought shook me. It made me realize this was wrong.” Sans and Geno both frowned at the same time, “What thought?” Chara quoted from memory, “Stay… join… become one… with the void.”

Geno shook. His eyes flashed in fear. His thoughts drifted to Gaster, or at least what he’d become. Looking back, Geno saw his offer was enticing at the time. The promise of no pain. The end of suffering. If it weren’t for Sans and Frisk, Geno know he would have followed Gaster into the void, defeated and tired of everything. Geno couldn’t help but stare at the damage the void had done to Chara. The see-through form. Geno, for the first time, showed scraps sympathy, “How’d… you become see through like that?” “When I heard those words… I felt scared. I felt again. It… what the void was doing to me, it hurt. Everywhere. I screamed. I tried to move, but I felt grabbed at all sides. I broke free slowly. I moved any way I could. I ran, I swam. Anything to get away. I… I did. I saw a light in the distance. The save screen. But, I felt something grab at me. It was a skeletal hand.”

Geno twitched but stayed quiet as Chara continued, “It tried to pull me back. I couldn’t look at it! I was so close to the save screen. But, as I reached out towards the save screen, I noticed I was see-through. I screamed. I was almost pulled back. But I… I pulled away. I was desperate to escape, I… I wanted all this to end… to go away!” Frisk frowned, “To… reset…” Chara sighed, “And… I did. I reached this patch of grass and reset. I… I only remember crying and you two coming here.” Geno and Sans spoke together, “Three.” Chara crooked their head. Disbelief scrawled upon their face, “What?” Sans reiterated and gently knocked on his skull, “Sorry, kid, we’ve got two minds in the same skull.” Chara gave a dry laugh, “Just as Frisk and I once were.” Geno huffed, “Yeah, and it’s your fault.” Sans interjected, “The kid just said they escaped the void.” Sans waved a hand towards Chara. He lit up his eye and gently used his blue magic on Chara’s soul. The highlighted soul, despite the magic put upon it, was see-through as well. Sans let go of Chara’s soul and spoke, “And they got the scars to prove it.”

Chara gave a determined look, “I don’t want to go back! That cannot be passing on!” Frisk shook their head, “No, it doesn’t sound right to me either.” Worry bled into Chara’s expression, “I know the reset took everything away from you. Hate me if you want. Injure me, even. I won’t go back. But, I fear this place will not be safe for long.” Geno mused, “It won’t. Ga-… the void… it can come here anytime. It tried to pull me in as well.” “Then if you know staying here is useless, there is only one solution.” Chara glared at Frisk, “I need that body back.”

Frisk hid behind Sans and Geno immediately. Instinctually. Geno and Sans’s eye flashed. Both flashed a smirk and spoke, “You really wanna do this? Here? With no resets?” Chara gave a half smirk, “Oh, but I do have resets. My reseting proves it.” Geno chuckled, “Yeah. Too bad resets don’t reach here in the same way.” Frisk peeked out from behind the skeleton. A familiar chill ran down their spine. Their memory conjured flashes of gold. Of the five hundred and thirty-six attempts to kill Sans the first time. Determination ran through them once more; this cannot happen again. They darted from behind Sans and Geno. They ran up between everyone and held their hands up, “Stop fighting!” Geno, Sans, and Chara all paused. Chara relaxed, while Geno and Sans stood on slight guard. Frisk turned towards Chara with an even expression. Chara raised a brow, “What are you doing?”

Frisk stopped in front of Chara. They spoke evenly, quietly as they usually do, “I don’t want to see that fight anymore.” Chara snarked, “Then tell the skeletons the calm down. All I want is to get out of here. Get away from that place! But, I can’t leave here on my own. We both know a soul without a body is trapped here.” Frisk nodded, “We don’t have to fight over this body. We can share my body.” Both Geno and Sans exclaimed, “What?!” Chara gave a dumbfounded look. Sans and Geno teleported to the children’s side. Frisk wasn’t sure which of the two were talking, “After everything Chara has done your gonna risk starting- no, wait, a lot of the problems we had was your fault. Still, you’re going to risk things going the way they were before.”

Chara raised a brow and crossed their arms, “Why would I want things like before?” Frisk shook their head, “I don’t want the resets either. But, it’s not right. I offered Chara a chance to join our happy ending before.” The skeleton deflated slightly, “Yeah… you did.” Frisk smiled, “So, it’s only fair to keep that offer.” The skeleton sighed, “Well… it is better than the void.” Geno shone through and glared at the two humans, “But, Chara’s reset was the last. We go through one last time and you two never reset again.” His tone turned darker. Red shone slightly in his blue eye, “Or I will kill you without hesitation or remorse. Capiche?” Frisk frowned and hugged themselves. They nodded slowly. Chara smirked, “Only if you lighten up, you bag of bones.” The skeleton chuckled, “Maybe I have put on a few pounds. But, I can always lighten my load by being humerus!”

Chara gave a look of disgust. Frisk giggled. The skeleton chuckled at his own jokes before he sighed, “Alright. So, if you two are gonna share a body, how are you gonna do this?” Chara shrugged, “I am no longer a full soul, perhaps if I just enter the body, there’ll be enough room to share?” Frisk, with a serious look, opened their arms for a hug. Chara reacted dryly, “Seriously?” Frisk nodded silently. Chara guffawed, “What makes you think that will work?” Frisk smiled, “I just wanted to give you a hug.” Chara sputtered and blushed heavily. Sans chuckled, “C’mon, what’s wrong with a little hug?” Chara frowned, “Even as a joke… loving me hurts. Loving anyone hurts.” Sans nodded, “It hurts cuz you love ‘em. Family and friends are a lot to handle. But, you’ve got someone to share that pain with.” Chara stared blankly at the skeleton, “You may think you are, but you are not helping.” Geno butted in, “What he means to say is life is like a skeleton; a lot of long and short parts. Some parts you don’t know what are for, and how they function. But, altogether is a great thing." Chara chuckled in disbelief, “You actually got me to laugh. I always knew you’d be a clown.”

Chara paused. They looked past Geno at the darkness that surrounded them. They frowned before they looked towards Frisk. They opened their arms hesitantly, “Let’s… get this over with.” Frisk flew into Chara’s arms. Frisk was the first to wrap their arms around Chara. They also hung their head on Chara’s shoulder. Chara stood there at first with their arms vaguely around Frisk. Distress on their face. That emotion numbed to a calm. A tear escaped their eye before they finally wrapped their arms around Frisk and smiled. The two stood there with their eyes closed. Chara felt comfort for the first time in a while. They wanted this embrace, a far cry from the void’s. This time, Chara fully accepted it. They felt like they melded into the hug. Soon, the warmth of the hug subsided slightly. Then, they opened their eyes.

Chara no longer saw Frisk in front of them. Confusion dawned on their face. A slight panic before they looked around. They saw Sans and Geno on the opposite side they were before, he was just smiling at them. Chara quickly looked over themselves. It was themselves; it was Frisk’s body once again. Chara blinked. They spoke in confusion, in Frisk’s voice, “Frisk?” They felt their mouth move and Frisk’s voice escape, “I’m here.” Chara’s jaw dropped. They laughed in disbelief, “That worked? Haha…how did that work?” Frisk shrugged, “You woke up before when I first fell into the underground. I guess… just being close?” Chara stifled a chuckle, “That’s… so dumb.” The skeleton chuckled, “Welcome to the body sharing club. Although, you two were the first member, technically.”

Chara huffed, “Can we just get out of here?” Frisk grabbed onto Geno and Sans, “Let’s make our final happy ending.” The skeleton half-smiled, “As long as it is the last one this time.” Chara smirked, “No objections.”

Frisk led the way back. Chara was only able to watch as Frisk grabbed hold of the shared body of Sans and Geno. They felt Frisk concentrate on their new shared soul. All of them appeared in Snowdin Forest in an instant. Chara stood with a shocked expression on their face. Their skeletal companion smiled, “Whelp, time to do the last go around again.” Frisk nodded, “This time, for good.”

The two bodies walked through the underground. Chara watched as many other monsters were picked up along the way. There were expected ones like Papyrus and Undyne, but this time, some other monsters joined in on the journey. Even a temmie was eager to help this time around. It wasn’t long before Chara aided in the journey they had taken with Frisk countless times before. There were times they weren’t sure if the body’s actions were from themselves or Frisk. Chara somehow didn’t mind this, and they felt that Frisk didn’t mind it either. One of the actions they knew both of them took together was their final attempt to save Asriel. It hurt knowing it still wasn’t possible after all this time. But, Chara made a note to retrieve Flowey after all was said and done. They had a surface to see after all.

After what had seemed like years, Chara, Frisk, Geno, and Sans stepped out onto the mountainside of Mount Ebbot. Outside of the now shattered barrier. They had let all their friends disperse at their own pace, but the four of them remained to watch the sunset in private. A thought ran through Frisk and Chara’s head, one that they spoke aloud, “This will be the last time we see this sunset.” The skeleton beside them shrugged, “Nah. We can come here anytime in the future.” The human paused. They raised their hand. Determination ran through them. The skeleton’s eye flashed for a moment, “What are you doing?” The human replied simply, “Ensuring we don’t go back. Ever.” The familiar star appeared to them. With one touch, the human felt this was the point they’d return to upon a reset. Now and forever. The human flashed a smile, “There. It is done. No more of that prison.” The skeleton frowned, “You promise?” The human nodded with a smile, “I promise.” “Both of you promise?” “…It… doesn’t feel as though there are two of us?” Worry flashed on the skeleton’s face, “Did one of you disappear?” The human shook their head, “No… Frisk and Chara are still here… but… it’s hard to figure out who’s thoughts are whose now.” The skeleton relaxed, “Tibia honest, it’s getting harder to differentiate Geno and Sans, too.” The human replied dryly, “At least you can simply say you are back to being only Sans now.” “You don’t want to be Frisk or Chara?” The human didn’t answer. Sans shrugged, “Oh well, you’ll figure it out eventually. You got your whole future ahead of you, after all.” The human saw the sun completely set on the horizon. Darkness had returned to the surface. The human smiled, “Yes. I do. An entire future to think.”

#aftertale #Undertale #undertale au #fanfiction #fanfic #geno!sans #sans #frisk #chara

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