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nighttimepixels · 4 years

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So... I've been seeing wonderful people on here lately making versions of their own HorrorFell Sans and well I'm desperately bi and hooked and wanna know if. there's a HorrorFell Serif....?

You are all criminals I’m supposed to be doing things

I love you all holy shit big same so

below a cut because it got long! CW for bear-trap related injuries.

It’s time to meet Dusk.

=====

They weren’t supposed to turn on the machine again.

The guys weren’t exactly ones for promises, but after the incident, after the girls had managed to prove how unsafe it was, how unstable-

-they weren’t supposed to. They weren’t supposed to, to drag anyone else into this, to mess up even more timelines, it was a standoff, but it was stable in the meantime, or it should have been-

Someday, you’d meet this Sans, and you’d personally kick his coccyx into next Tuesday, you swore, for this and for everything else-

But right now, chances were looking pretty slim of seeing it to next Tuesday yourself.

“G-guys, it’s okay, really-”

“she’s got you by the fucking throat-!”

“If you fucking hurt her- te arrancó el brazo y lo tiro al mar-!”

You inhaled sharply, tears pricking at your eyes as the hand around your middle squeezed you tighter, your back pressed to a jagged, massive set of ribs, bare but for the massive coat shielding much of them, and draped around your form. The other hand at your throat held no weapon - but it was a weapon, even without the claws that threatened to prick your skin.

But the hand of the enormous skeleton woman holding you wasn’t squeezing your throat. It hadn’t once.

Blood, meanwhile, dripped slow and hot down your leg, staining the dead leaves of the forest floor below.

You wanted to curse your luck - curse the fact that you were on a walk in the woods with the dogs when Alpha’s monitoring programs picked up the subtle fluctuation in space-time that marked that machine being turned on for even an instant. You wanted to curse the fact that you’d tripped on a dumb root, cracking your phone and, apparently, breaking the ringer so you didn’t hear the many calls that came in. You wanted to curse the fact that you’re a magnet for skeletal trouble-

-or you would, if it hadn’t also brought you too much good this past year…But when you’d stumbled across the wounded, massive skeleton now clutching you, your feet dangling more than five feet off the ground, your first thought had been concern as you only saw her back turned to you, and a bear trap big enough to catch a rhinoceros nearly snapping her leg in half-

“Blade, holy shit- are you… are you okay-?”

The massive hole in her skull had been so familiar… but a moment later, you’d realized it was wrong. As was the way her head had snapped around… two massive gold fangs implanted in a mouth overrun with nigh-feral sharp teeth, a jagged red eyelight in the wrong socket, the hole on the wrong side of her head, the scars all wrong, so wrong-

The fear and fury in her face so unfamiliar and dangerous.

And yet… you… you didn’t leave.

You were nearly an hour’s walk away from the house. You shouldn’t have gone alone in the first place, but you had the dogs, far more intelligent than any normal animal, and you’d been cooped up for weeks because of bad weather and-

-and then, slowly, murmuring, crouching low with your hands out in a deference of power, soft nothings and reassurances spilling out of your mouth… you were approaching, circling in a wide berth to her front. Her snarls and growls were so loud you nearly lost your balance in the physicality, but…

… but slowly, while you were out of reach, she began to growl quieter, pain eking out over anything, though not once had she blinked…

A new arrival, you’d known. You’d found out about the machines a long while back now, and… there was no questioning it. But her tibia and fibula were cut almost clean through in a trap you couldn’t help but wonder if was from her world, brought with her - how long had she been out here? What was running through her head?

Why were you risking yourself-

The sound of fire, the feel of your own fear when your old place had crumbled around you… the soul-breaking relief when you’d been rescued, despite the danger…

You steeled yourself, and slowly came closer.

It took several tries - she nearly lunged at you once, when your hand slipped, digging the trap teeth in on her. You apologized, and kept talking- did she even… even speak English? Gods, you had no idea. But the sound of your voice seemed to help, so you kept at it- noticing more and more scars, noticing how terrifyingly dusty the wound was becoming- when you gestured for her to hold the one side to help undo the mechanism, trying to explain, ask for help as it was too strong for you alone-

-she’d done so, her hand larger than your head. Despite the pain, her grip didn’t shake, but you heard her teeth gritting, creaking as they ground down, erratic, unsteady magic charging the air around her-

And at last you’d freed her.

The trap to the side, you’d hurried to look at her removed leg, shedding your hoodie, forgetting to move slow. You missed the flicker in her gaze, pain undeniable in every shadow of her face, the moment of confusion, of hunger, of hesitance, of her reaching towards you-

But you’d looked up then, sweater in your hands, hovering over the horrifying break, an injury you were certain would have killed her otherwise- ready to bind her up.

Her hand had frozen at the level of your throat.

Like a rabbit in the gaze of a wolf, you’d frozen.

The wind rustled the leaves overhead, afternoon sun growing long, dimmer behind gathering clouds.

Her hand slowly came closer.

You didn’t move, a fine tremble in your spine, but- you didn’t look away.

She paused again. Watching. Waiting- your heart was racing, but- you didn’t run. For a thousand reasons, you didn’t run, despite some deeper instinct beyond logic begging at you to.

And then she’d brushed a lock of hair back from your throat, catching a bead of sweat with it, and lingering over your pulse.

Oh so slowly, her pinprick eyelight dilated.

“… y..ou…”

Without warning, a shout in the distance, cutting in as if through a phone line picked up startled you both. The dogs, waiting, tense, worried just a few feet behind you, barked- and all hell had broken loose.

Serif had shortcut into the clearing, her eyelights no sooner landing on you than taking in the massive, dangerous looking skeleton with her hand at your throat. She’d sworn, magic suddenly flaring at her fingertips before, as if desperately wrenching her senses back, it vanished, and she lifted her hands, furious and hiding too much emotion but clearly attempting to look reasonable, to calm down the newcomer.

It was too late.

The sudden appearance, the split second of aggressive magic was enough. The injured skeleton woman was surging forward, enveloping you- before, as if forgotten, her leg gave out with a sickening crunch.

You both fell, and your leg slammed into the hellish, too-jagged bear trap you’d just removed from her leg. The jagged metal and sharpened bone teeth of the closed trap protruding from it cut into your leg and dragged viciously as intertia and gravity took over before she could catch herself, taking the brunt of the fall-

The smell of blood had a visceral effect on the woman holding you, even as your vision was cut off by the ground and her arms and jacket- your scream mingled with a guttural sound, a language glitching and feral- clashing with the sounds of more people arriving, hitting the ground running, swearing, your vision blurring and whiting with pain lancing from your leg straight through you and whiting out your conscious mind for a moment- vertigo as you were suddenly upright-

Now you stared at your friends, leg throbbing, hot blood staining your jeans and shoe, struggling to keep your vision clear and not panic. She was cornered - you were too, you supposed, in her arms. Her leg was… it wasn’t right. You couldn’t quite see it when you glanced down, and that was… a problem. She seemed to be propped against a tree, against a steep hill that was nearly cliff- staring down, chest heaving at Serif, Scarlet, Crimson, Sapphire, and Cinnamon. You had no idea where the others were. There was no time to spare to think about it - or how they’d found you at all-

“P-please, I think she’s just scared, I think she’s feeling my pulse, s-since- I’m hurt-”

“doesn’t mean she gets t'hold you hostage,” Cinnamon’s low voice was a drawl, but her stance was one you’d only seen once or twice. Ready, ready in a way that would set your internal alarms off if they weren’t already pealing.

“Come now, let’s… let’s just take it easy,” Sapphire’s voice was measured, even almost warm - her eyelights were steady, and she was the only one who didn’t visibly appear to be a moment’s away from a fighting stance. Still, her voice was almost too measured. You knew her too well to miss it. Nonetheless, she met your gaze, and her chest took a steady inhale, then slow exhale, ever so minutely.

You blinked, tears threatening to spill at the silent message to breathe, that she’d stay calm too, she’d try and de-escalate-

The rough, static-like inflection of the woman’s speech behind you twisted and rumbled, short, dark, aggressive-

A huff of air tickled your hair, and you felt her… her head, dip down to the back of yours. It cut through the pain, almost tingling with a wild sort of magic, but… not in a bad way.

The others looked confused in varying degrees, and Crimson’s arm out only barely kept Scarlet from acting- but there was a flicker of deeper confusion yet on Serif’s face… one of almost-recognition and angrier confusion on Cinnamon’s-

But Crimson’s sockets widened.

“ay, ni de coña-”

Several eyelights snapped to her as she swore, shaking her head as if to clear it of cobwebs-

And then… slowly, she stumbled through a handful of similar sounds.

Words.

Glitching, uneven, but also rich like radio static - if a little clumsier in her mouth-

You felt as much as heard the surprised intake of breath behind you.

And slowly, came a response.

Crimson frowned, scowled outright, sockets squinting and head cocking a bit. A few more words- a grunt, then a continuation that sounded corrected-

An angrier response from the woman holding you-

“could you please let us in on the conversation, thanks,” hissed Serif sharply at Crimson, but she was promptly waved off as Crimson haltingly tried a few more words-

And slowly, the hand at your throat drifted just a little further down.

“… n..o.”

“pendejo-” Crimson swore, making a sharp rude gesture - but not at your captor, at the sky.

“¿Qué le hizo?” Scarlet was sharp, too quick, her Spanish rough and thick with anger-

“that bastard must’ve turned it on alright- she’s…. joder, she’s like Blade but- us too, hermana. our estrelita here apparently helped her outta a trap she was dyin’ in, and when we showed up-”

“shit,” Serif swore softly, her hands lowering again, anger and stress and understanding flickering over her face.

“she’s still holdin’ her,” Cinnamon pointed out, words tight - but her posture had relaxed… slightly. “we gotta get her some first aid-”

She paused, then, quieter.

“both of ‘em…. fuck, her leg’s completely…”

“Please, let us help you- both of you-” Sapphire’s voice was earnest, firm but gentle- but you couldn’t quite focus on her. On any of them, now, not with your vision threatening to tunnel.

You were starting to shiver a little, following along but only just. The wound in your leg must be… pretty bad. You were feeling faint. Your body shifted in time with the growing shallower breaths of the woman holding you…

Crimson was swearing, attempting a word again, and again, but clearly not knowing how or what to say in that strange language-

“what even is it you’re speakin’-” Cinnamon pressed.

“shh, it’s just- it’s– old, old monster shit, most forgot except uh- certain scientist, and a few others, it’s been ages but-”

Suddenly, you were higher off the ground, your mind slipping for a moment in vertigo. The next, you realized… both her arms were supporting you, cradling you close, a modified bridal carry to accommodate the size difference and your wounded leg that-

“Oh god-”

You dry heaved, forcing yourself to look away from the open gash in your leg. You’d never been good with great quantities of blood, but - but you’d seen white in the deep, long wound, and your head was spinning, fuck-

“…n.ow. b… oth.”

The two halting words were punctuated by a longer phrase in that radio-static language you couldn’t understand. Your eyes were closing, unable to focus any longer. Whatever was going to happen, you couldn’t fight it… at least… at least they didn’t seem like the others were going to fight, either…

“you gotta give her to us- you can’t pass through a shortcut with that-”

Your mind was fading, and you barely registered the harsher, almost booming radio-static words falling from the woman holding you possessively, protectively. The following swears tumbling from Crimson might as well have been white noise...

“Take… take care of her, first,” you mumbled, not seeing the other girl’s attention snap to you, nor the wide stare of the woman holding you. “She was… d-dust, at… at her wound… please don’t let- let her… fall…….”

And with that, your mind slipped away in pain and anemic exhaustion.

—

It wouldn’t be till much later that you found out that the girls had apparently surged into action that, and somehow, together, managed to shortcut you and your new friend back to Blade and Twist’s place.

Both of you were patched up…

But the cost of teleporting while so grievously injured cost this new arrival her lower leg. A cost she apparently knew she might pay.

You cried when you found out.

But you’d also awoken in her arms, a place she’d apparently refused to let you free of, even at Blade’s anger and Twist’s worry. Her leg was gone, yours was patched and stitched by Twist’s patent, phenomenal care. And still, you were there... warm, bundled in new blankets, with the woman’s eyelight rarely leaving you, even as Crimson and Serif explained what happened, Blade looming nearby.

She couldn’t speak English well, you found out then, too. She’d… forgotten it. What monsters were left in her world forgot it - forgot a lot, apparently, forced into a feral survival, hunted by… something.

But in the end, to start… you were able to help her choose a new nickname, at least. A beginning. A start, because… Despite their concern, well, none of the girls were going to kick this new arrival out on her own. Crimson in particular had been there too, the whole time, helping translate broken sentences and try to parse together what she knew…

Dusk, she chose as her name, after a long game of suggestions and narrowing in on sounds and concepts she seemed less opposed to. She seemed pleased… if you were reading her right.

And… she didn’t have a sister that came with her.

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