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howlsofbloodhounds · 3 months

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TW:

Biting.

Feral and Animalistic Behavior.

Growling, snarling, biting, etc.

Roughhousing.

Subtle attempts at asserting dominance.

Implied dehumanization.

Mentioned violence.

Mentioned blood and possibility of infection.

Deep loneliness.

Badly translated Arabic.

Implied one sided Color x Delta.

If anyone told Color that he would one day be used as a chew toy for his traumatized, crazed, alternate version of himself, mass murdering best friend; he would’ve called you crazy.

But as luck would have it: he was the crazy one. Because he was currently allowing Stage 3 to chew on his arm like it was a fresh piece of bacon.

It was better than the alternative, of Killer attempting to break Color’s neck with his teeth maybe, but by the stars did it hurt.

“okay, buddy,” with a grimace, Color attempted to shake Killer off his arm. Which was a bad move, because the way Killer’s head snapped towards the skeleton, wide and intense gaze pinned straight on him, was a soul stopping moment.

Color could hear the growl building up in Stage 3’s chest, the ribs rattling, and wasn’t that just swell? Sweat dripped down the skeleton’s forehead.

“look, bud,” Color gulped, attempting to keep his voice steady and to maintain a sense of calm. He knew Stage 3 wouldn’t understand what he saying, but it would understand the emotions. He didn’t know how the crazed being would react to signs of pain or fear, but he knew he shouldn’t stare directly in his friend’s (?) eyes. Animals typically took that sort of thing as a sign of being challenged. “i know you think you’re being nice..”

The responding rumble from the skeleton body latched on his arm seemed to confirm that, and Color couldn’t help but find that a bit sad.

What exactly led this part of his friend into thinking not immediately ripping someone to shreds was being kind, and leaving bite marks in flesh and bone was friendship?

It was a rhetorical question. Color knew who made them like this. Not exactly what, but he could guess. Was it really even a surprise that Killer could hardly function in society? People were either threats, lines of code, or interesting toys to play with his friend’s eyes.

Somehow Color managed to worm his way into being something different. But that didn’t mean he was safe, he was aware of that. He was something new, really.

He just hoped his novelty wouldn’t ware off one day. That maybe that bits of Sans that was left over in Killer had enough care for him to not throw him away once he got boring.

Guilt suddenly overtook Color at that thought. It was a cynical way to view things. He knew Killer was trying, he knew his friend was relearning how to care for or trust others.

The fact Color had gotten as far as he has with Killer, to the point that the multi souled creature would proudly proclaim him a friend, already said a lot.

But it was times like this that Color couldn’t help feeling insignificant; very much like a toy. He knew the higher Stages of his friend’s soul certainly weren’t stable or mentally sane, in a way that was different from Stages 1 and 2. At least they could pretend to keep it together.

But not Stage 3, and probably not 4, either. Definitely not Stage 4, actually. Killer had attempted to hide the existence of that one from Color for a while, and he was clear when he said he didn’t understand Stage 4 in the slightest.

Stage 3 was feral. Or..”crazy,” as One has described it. It didn’t take Color long to realize that 3 didn’t think in complex ways, like he or the lower Stages could.

It saw the world in movements and survival. Non verbal cues, body language, the tone of your voice and facial expressions. The creature was unpredictable; one wrong move could have it attacking whoever moved or looked at it a certain way.

Stage 3 twitched sometimes, uncontrollably. When it was excited or nervous, mostly. Those could pretty unnerving to see.

Its movements were very much like a predator, graceful and adaptive, yet it was clear that it was ready to attack at any moment. Look it in the eyes or smile a certain way, and it’ll be on you before you could even blink.

This even applied to..”friendship.” Color couldn’t really say if the feral animal living inside his friend’s broken body knew what friends were, but Stage 3 was the definition of love bites and roughhousing (if leaving teeth marks and bruises during play times counted as that.) Perhaps a better word would probably be more animalistic, like a pack mate.

Or a pup that 3 had to care for. Or a sheep it had to herd, maybe even a resource that needed guarding. Territory.

Color couldn’t say, and Stage 3 couldn’t tell. Out of all the Stages, navigating this one’s world was the most confusing.

“..but, that hurts.” Color reached out, cautiously placing a skeletal hand on his friend’s skull. He hissed when Killer instinctively clamped his teeth down harder, thanking whatever Gods existed that he didn’t hear a bone snap. Stage 3 was tense, shaking with what seemed like excitement (or maybe it was fear? Fear of the unknown?), yet it wasn’t growling and going for the neck yet. “not everyone can endure what you can.”

Slowly, slow enough that the feral thing could stop him if it wanted to, Color began to lightly scratch along the top of its skull. Killer was quiet and unnaturally still, staring with those dark, huge eye sockets at Color. The flame head attempted to avoid staring back, suddenly aware of how awkward it is to be giving your grown adult best friend head scratches.

He couldn’t help but wonder if this was how he was going to die. Killer had warned Color against Stage 3 for a reason, after all. Had even advised using extreme methods such as killing him, putting Killer down as if he was a rabid dog, if that meant Color lived.

Killer wasn’t the type to exaggerate the danger, not while in Stage 1. Stage 2 was all about the flair and the dramatics, pretending he cared about anything more than he actually did. Emotionally fake, in any way that actually mattered. Everything about 2’s acts was..unreal, like watching an alien putting on its human skin and play acting.

(Color couldn’t hold that against him. There was no winning in his situation. Mask and be seen as a creep, don’t mask, and be seen as an emotionless husk that was still a creep.)

Stage 3 was a threat. It can, has, and will brutally kill. Anything resembling friends and allies were temporary things in its world. The only luxury is that it won’t bother to draw out the death. It doesn’t want pain, it wants you out of its way. Away from it.

Color’s soul felt tight, conflicting thoughts pulling him in different directions. Perseverance urged him to cease any potentially life threatening actions immediately, but kindness and patience insisted in giving this a chance.

Bravery suggested taking a bolder action. Maybe Stage 3 would react better if Color could show that he was stronger?

Justice reared its head in disgust at the thought. Hadn’t Killer had enough people forcing dominance over him?

Judging by the way Color still hadn’t pulled away, his fingers even bravely making their way down and underneath Killer’s chin, the decision had already been made. A unanimous one, once Color carefully went over every perspective.

Sudden movements would only scare Stage 3 off, or provoke its temper. Color didn’t want to hurt Killer, even if said friend was currently chomping down on his bones like a tasty meal. Especially when this was just 3’s atypical way of showing affection, despite how bad it hurt.

With a gentle hand, Color was sure he could show Stage 3 a way of love that didn’t have to hurt.

“it’s alright, جرو.” He muttered lowly, watching the way Killer’s body shook in its fear and confusion. It still wasn’t attacking, despite it all. Trust was there. The hold on his arm was present, but certainly not as hard as it was before. “i won’t hurt you. أنت آمن مع—“

Color’s words were cut off by Killer suddenly lurching away from him, and Color leaned back when the skeleton bared his teeth at him. Dark ink slid down the porcelain white face, staining the teeth, and the soul was barely anything resembling a shape. More red than white.

Color tensed, his breath catching, as he stared back; his eye socket blown wide and the eye light a mere pinpoint. Despite his fear, the flames burned a fierce orange, as he stood his ground; raising his chin up at the animal and narrowing his eye.

It wasn’t a challenge, but there was no way he would allow the fear and surprise to show. And he needed Stage 3 to see that he wasn’t going to be pushed around.

The two stared, one attempting to maintain eye contact while the other stared intently at the space between eye sockets. It was quiet, not a sound beside the rumble of the air conditioner in Color’s run down, crappy apartment.

3 suddenly let out what sounded like a chuff, snapping his teeth at Color. Before the cracked skull skeleton could even react to that, Killer was on his feet and rushing out of Color’s bedroom; in what could only be described as his tail between his legs.

Color watched his friend run away in quiet astonishment, slumping against his bed pillows. He knew where the animal was likely running off to; Nightmare. Or to be more accurate, the dark, warm, and quiet closet in Killer’s bedroom.

Which meant Color likely wouldn’t be seeing Killer for another few days. A few weeks, if Nightmare keeps him busy.

Disappointment was a knife in Color’s soul, that ever aching loneliness already making itself known; an empty cavern in his being that he could never seem to keep filled.

Blood dripping on to his shorts demanded his attention, and Color glanced over at his arm. The bite was in a perfect shape of Killer’s teeth, covered in salvia. An infection was likely, if Color didn’t heal it.

Color didn’t want to. He wanted someone else to heal him for once, to feel the warmth of healing magic and intent washing over him. Battling off darkness and bone deep loneliness.

But Killer just ran away. Dream and Ccino were likely busy with their duties, Epic was likely spending the day with Cross. Gaster was still in the Void. Core Frisk..he didn’t want to have to rely on them. They were just a kid, they’d probably freak out if they saw the injury.

..It might reflect badly on Killer. And his chances on getting into the Omega Timeline, once Color managed to help him leave Nightmare.

Which left Delta. Color was overdue in giving his ex roommate the souvenirs he got for him, anyway. With his uninjured arm, Color reached over to grab his phone from the nightstand; immediately pulling up his most recent contacts.

As soon as he caught sight of the profile picture, of Delta’s brazen smile, Color couldn’t help but consider if things had been different. If he had decided to give up on Killer like everyone seemed to want him to, stayed in the Omega Timeline with Delta and tried to live a normal life.

The thought of it caused his non existent stomach to churn. He wasn’t built for staying in one spot. He couldn’t give up on Killer. He knew it was dangerous, possibly even impossible. Maybe it was even pathetic to be chasing after someone as unstable and danger prone as Killer.

Everyone kept insisting the same thing, over and over. He can’t change.

But Color couldn’t believe that, not for a second. Not when he’s seen the way Killer crashes and breaks after each mission. Not when he’s seen the man come apart at the seams over the injuries of a beloved pet, blaming himself for every single thing that goes wrong.

Not when Killer looks at him in that way. Scared, but hopeful. Trusting. Admiring and loving. He can’t be the reason why such a look no longer grazes that face. The reason why his hope up and shatters and flies away in the wind. He won’t be.

But it’s nice to have support, whenever Color is the one left in shambles. He’s grateful for Delta, truly. But he can’t give the man what he wants. He’s just glad that Delta seems to understand that.

Without allowing himself to ponder much more on it, he quickly presses down on that green call button. He’s silent as the rings fill the air, the sounds breaking through the silence in such a way that Color has to resist the immediate urge to hang up. Grating on his non existent ears.

The rings seem to go on for such a long time that Color finds himself holding his breath once again, wondering if perhaps this is the point where Delta finally leaves. Or maybe his friend was busy, and Color will once again have to patch himself up.

Then the soft, welcoming click of a phone call being answered fills the room, and Color heaves a sigh of relief. He can’t stop smiling when he says,

“hey, de. you have a moment?”

—

I had to use Google Translate for the Arabic bits, so it probably isn’t accurate, but here’s what they’re supposed to mean:

‎الجرو = Supposed to mean pup. But translates to puppy.

‎. أنت آمن مع = “You are safe with—.” Supposed to be “you are safe with me,” if he wasn’t cut off.

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howlsofbloodhounds · 11 months

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I have this HC that Delta & Color share an apartment in the Omega Timeline. Color was still new to the Multiverse and didn’t want to be alone, and Delta needed a place to stay so Core made arrangements for them and that’s how they met.

They aren’t immediate friends off the bat, although they’re friendly to eachother. Color is really distant at the start and Delta really..isn’t.

It’s been awhile since Color has interacted with people that aren’t Gaster. Delta, on top of being in an apartment building in a bustling city of people, is rather overwhelming for Color and he tends to get snappy and frustrated when he’s overwhelmed. Being stuck in one spot doesn’t make him feel any better.

I think Delta realizes this eventually and makes an arrangement with Core to allow Color to leave and go into the Omega Timeline via allowing Color to help the Stars fight against Nightmare’s Gang.

Color isn’t an actual Star Sans, though through this arrangement he gets to leave the Omega Timeline and explore the Multiverse instead of staying in one place. He also gets to help people and eventually meet up with & help Killer.

He rarely ever actually is in his apartment with Delta, but they have eachother’s phone numbers. Color keeps Delta updated on his going ons at Delta’s requests. Core is, of course, wary about how often they let people in and out of the Omega Timeline; so, at most, it’s once or twice every six months. So Color makes sure to bring Delta stuff from the AUs he goes to.

Color takes odd jobs around in different AUs, to have enough money to buy an apartment and keep himself fed and clothed. He and Killer sometimes meet up in these apartments.

It stays that way up until Killer finally decides it’s safe to completely leave Nightmare now. After that, they stay on the move for a bit until Color finally decides it’s safe enough to call up Core Frisk.

From there, Color & Killer share a bedroom in the apartment Color shares with Delta until they’re both able to find their footing. Until they’re both able to get jobs to buy their own house. After that, maybe Epic or Abyss Sans takes Color’s spot at Delta’s roommate.

And, of course, Delta & Color make sure to stay in touch even after Color & Killer move out. And whenever Color and Killer decide to start helping Dream keep the balance of positivity, whenever they leave the Omega Timeline, they drop off Killer’s cats at Delta’s so he can cat sit.

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