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[rubrumtimor-blog]

It has been a hot second since I logged onto this blog-- whoops 

[rubrumtimor-blog]

souls-rpsandocs‌:

“Hey pal. Yer lookin a lil under the weather.”

Standing above the red skeleton, Lucid’s yellow eye lights gazed down with half-lidded eye sockets and a lazy grin to accompany them. His hood was drawn up over his head to keep the rain of Waterfall off, his jacket not yet soaked, signifying he had not been in the area long. However, judging but the heaviness of the others clothing being soaked, it seemed they had been here for quite a while. Perhaps Lucid should fetch them an umbrella, well...if this timeline had those kinds of things.

“Not wise t’ get yerself soaked t’ the bone. Might catch a cold.”

@rubrumtimor

           “Piss off.” Crim certainly wasn’t the most friendly skeleton to talk to when in a mood. Much like the other, his hood was drawn up over his head-- although, that was mainly more in an effort to hide away than to shield himself from the rain. “I don’t give a fuck..” His voice was quieter the second time he spoke, and while agitation was a heavy cloak over his tone-- there was an underlying emotion in it he was avidly trying to hide. Much the same way he’d taken refuge under his jacket. 

          “Jus get the fuck away from me.” 

[rubrumtimor-blog]

efflorescencearcana‌:

Lacey merely smiled at the complaint, patting his back as he once again came to rest his head against her shoulder. He was so easy to fluster with even just the smallest of actions. It was, as she had noted aloud, very cute.

“You’re old-ish,” she commented. Though this was followed by a growing smile. She was, indeed, gonna tease him more. She couldn’t exactly help it. A giggle escaped her as she nuzzled her face against his neck since he was still hiding his with her shoulder. Tiny and light affectionate kisses against bone framed by laughter. “And yeah you are. Trust me, I’m an expert on cute! So when I say you’re cute, you’re cute. And whining about it is just gonna make you cuter.”

When she heard him begin to mutter, she pulled back so that she could properly hear since her shoulder was still muffling his voice. A faint blush crept its way onto her cheeks. What he was describing was very familiar, and something she could currently sympathize with since the same feeling grew within her the more he spoke. The more he said how happy she made him or how nice this was.

“Nah, you don’t sound weird,” she shook her head before giving his body a slight squeeze in response to his tightening hold. He really wasn’t familiar with this kind of stuff, huh? “That’s a pretty normal feeling when ya like someone. When the person you like does certain stuff, it makes you happy and it feels nice. Like how what you just said made me happy.”

Speaking of… now that she’d calmed him down somewhat, she should probably deal with the collar he went out of his way to get her.

“Hold on, forgot something,” she hummed as she gently pushed him back so that she could reach over and snatch the collar up from the table.

She turned it over once again to look at it before starting the process of putting it on around her neck. When she was outside she’d probably wear it more as a bracelet, buuuuut since they were in her apartment and it was just them, it’d be fine to wear it like this, right? Once she’d secured it properly around her neck, even testing it with her fingers to make sure it wasn’t too tight, she looked to Crim. The blush that had dusted her cheeks deepened due to not being used to wearing something like this. Sure, she’d worn chokers and such before, but this was… different.

It was a bit… embarrassing, actually. But since they were alone, she could push that aside for now. A hand went to her collar bone like she was presenting it to him.

“So, how’s it look? Does it make me look any tougher?”

               Her reassurances actually did help to quell a bit of the jitters in his soul. The girl’s assumption had been spot on-- he really wasn’t used to any of this-- and while she had said it was normal, things like this... Certainly hadn’t been normal where he came from. Or at least, accepting these types of emotions hadn’t been. Letting them unfurl and truly manifest in the soul was dangerous back then. To a degree it was still dangerous now-- but vastly less so than it had been. It was one of the reasons he was still fighting it to a degree. Her teasing and claims of him ‘whining’ being met with a quiet muttered ‘m’not’.                   There was also a strange sense of satisfaction that came when Lacey had said she liked what he’d said. That it made her happy. It caused a warm feeling to radiate from his soul, ensuring that the steady red glow from beneath his sweater certainly wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. Although, there was a small bit of coldness that crept its way in when she pushed him back-- but not because he’d taken the action badly or thought he’d done something wrong. More so, it was the loss of contact that did it. The desire for said contact-- still being something he was trying to come to terms with.                Confusion was only on his features for a brief moment, before cheekbones regained their red flush once he realized what she was doing. It should have been obvious, really, that he’d see her in the collar. Though apparently something in his skull hadn’t quite connected those dots. So when he was met with the visual of her in it-- it caused his mind to short-circuit to a degree. 

              “U-uh... y-you...” It looked nice-- he wanted to say, but seemed both his mind and words were failing him. So, all the flustered skeleton could get out was-- “... Really beautiful.” To which, the color on his face deepened-- seeming to realize what word he just said.  Eyelights falling away to the side in an almost panicked way. How the hell did ‘it looks nice’ turn into that!? Also why did it feel different now saying that--? He’d called her beautiful before dammit!                “... How does... it feel?” He managed out, after thoroughly yelling at himself in his skull. Magic signatures of course were something he knew about-- since well, he wore his brother’s. It was around this time, that a warmth would have been felt around the girl’s neck. Not something that was sweltering like how an actual heat might have been-- but more so, it was like the warm sensation of a fire without the burn or overheat. Much like other sensations related to magic, with it was carried emotions. For collars, those emotions were centered around protection because of their purpose and application. Although for collars that were for romantic partners, along with that sense of protection-- was affection. Subtle since it was an indirect contact, but very definitely there. Something that Crim actually didn’t know about-- since well, his collar was completely platonic. Sure, Alphys wore a collar from Undyne-- but such things had never come up in conversation. Mainly, since it seemed the skeleton hadn’t been keen on finding any partners anytime soon. Welp, that sure changed, didn’t it?                “If it uh... feels weird-- the uh... sensation will be lessened if its placed elsewhere.” Which, was another reason he’d made the collar as adjustable as it was. He knew very well that humans weren’t accustomed to such things, nor were they familiar to the feel of magic. 

[rubrumtimor-blog]

l0stsans‌:

       He’d always been suspicious to a fault. Sometimes it got him distracted, and made him sloppy in his emotions. But often times, it just made people mistake his kindness for trust.        He didn’t want to be rude to this version of himself that had ultimately saved him even though he didn’t have any real REASON to do so. He felt SAD that his world looked - honestly difficult to live in. But he still hadn’t decided if he believed that the other was just NICE or not. Despite his looks, he could be…. scars didn’t make someone bad. But despite Sans’ willingness to give him the chance, he wouldn’t be caught surprised if that was a mistake in the end.         He’s met almost every kind of ‘Sans’ before. Ones that’ve looked rather scary, and others that wound up being the scariest despite looking rather normal. It didn’t matter. Sans learned not to trust anything right away. It didn’t helped being trapped in a dimension he didn’t know, because usually he wasn’t so paranoid.         Despite that, when the other started talking, he listened and focused. He let the others conversation sooth his worry, if just a little. If anything, it really was a good distraction. He even managed to chuckle a bit when the other talked about his Papyrus. It made sense now, why he called Papyrus ‘Boss’. He could understand picking fun on his little brother. He did it all the time.        “Well… thanks for the warnin’. I’m not scared of Papyrus, though.” He took the container and smiled some. He seemed sure of himself on that. He loved his brother too much, and usually, he liked any version of him too. Even the weird ones. “Anyways, that’s pretty hilarious. My Papyrus would probably love being called ‘Boss’. He’s got a real ego, but it’s charming, I guess.” He rolls his eyes a bit, but it’s all in brotherly fun. He seems to relax a bit, talking about his own brother. It helps a lot. “He seems important though. Your Papyrus…” He took a bite of the food, blinking in pleasant surprise by the GOOD taste of it.  “H-He made this?”

              Another thing he commonly forgot-- that most versions of his brother’s cooking were... interesting. Some downright inedible. Reminded of this fact when the other had commented on the food, caused another earnest chuckle to run through his diaphragm. Talking about brothers always seemed to be a kind of safe topic between different versions of himself-- and it made sense. It was a touch point of familiarity-- something that brought comfort. Though when it came to their version of the world-- not all of that was cheery.Though, the contrast did amuse him quite a bit.                “Heh, yeah. Lines like mine dat are rougher, also tend ta also possess brothers that can cook pretty well.” He took a bite of his own food inbetween speaking, using it as a chance to think of a way to explain it that wouldn’t be too depressing. “Can’t speak fer de others, but wit us-- it was just cause we couldn’t afford ta waste food. So ma bro actually ended up eatin the stuff he made all the time. Helped em figure out wut not ta do er put in da food.” A thought then came to him immediately after that-- “Ah-- we don’t worry bout dat now, though. Was just when we were younger it was a thing.” 

              “N’don’t go telling ma brother he’s important-- will inflate his ego.” He found it rather comical his brother wasn’t the only one with self-pride. It was said in a joking tone, an amused smile on his features-- although, as he seemed to think for a small moment-- it became a tad bit weighted. “... but yeah, he is. He kinda had ta be. Er, at least become important.” Red eyelights had gone to his food, finding it rather interesting for the time being. “If ye ain’t important er strong here, ya get dusted. N’those same people who are strong er important, do da dusting. S’just how it is. So we both had ta become both in order ta have some safety.” Another half-chuckle came from him, although this time it definitely was forced.                “If ya... wanna keep some peace’o mind, likely ain’t a good idea ta run a check on me, or ma bro.” Crim knew very well how powerful curiosity could be, and some things were simply better left unknown. Likely the longer the other stayed here, the more likely it was they’d become curious about how much they’d... “S’not like I’ll get mad at cha fer doing it, but s’just a heads up if ya do get curious.” After all, it was unnerving to know a monster with 18 LV was so close-- his brother being no better, at 20 LV. Crim used to be the one with more, but once Papyrus got to be where he was-- well, it was inevitable he’d pass him and reach the maximum much faster.                “ Heh, this likely ain’t a good conversation ta have over food, is it?” In truth, that had been one of the reasons he’d taken his jacket off. The faint smell of dust clung to it no matter how many times he washed it-- or maybe, that was simply a trick of his own mind’s guilt. Nonetheless, he didn’t want to take any chances. “Sorry bout that.” 

[rubrumtimor-blog]

l0stsans‌:

       It was true, even if he had been running on full charge, he probably wasn’t quite as strong as MOST other Sans’ out there. This one was certainly included in that regard. He didn’t LIKE being weaker, but he also wasn’t a fighter.        Did it mean he didn’t FIGHT before? Or even that he was without even one single point of HP? —        No. It really didn’t. But he didn’t think about it, and it had been a LONG time since he’s had to, luckily. He really didn’t want to fight now too. He was, again, thankful for the time being that this alternate found some pity in him to help. As little as Sans liked needing anyone elses help, he learned a lot time ago how harmful pride could be.        Walking into the others home, he noticed the dissimilarities before the similarities. Of course, it still looked like HOME. But more like when he and his Papyrus had first moved in. Not that he judged. It was nice to at least see that the two alternated seemed to bicker in the same kind of way, noticing the sticky notes on the wall and the gross sock on the floor.        “Who’s ‘Boss’?” He asks, before he thinks about it. He appreciated the other giving him space, but he realized quickly that maybe he shouldn’t PRY so much. Maybe it would come off as a bit RUDE. “Uh… nevermind. I-I could use some food, please. I’m okay with Lasagna.” He doesn’t think he’s ever had it before, but he’s so used to his brothers… unique cooking style that he’d be okay with eating just about anything.         He’d rather not be left alone here anyways. It was enough that he felt anxiety still swirling through his ribcage from being trapped her for awhile. Being alone with those thoughts wouldn’t be fun. It was only cut short from spiraling back again into panic by the other skeleton taking his jacket off. He couldn’t stop himself from staring if he tried, but he was quick to correct himself. Not many monsters HAD scars in his dimension. Looks were just too - important. He had a few, some he just couldn’t conceal with any kind of healing magic and some he didn’t bother to try with.        He must’ve been right. This dimension seemed so… dark. He felt kind of bad. He always complained so much, at least to himself, about what he had to deal with. But it could always be worse. “Thanks again. Really. That was really nice of you t’ help me.” He said, shifting nervously where he stood.

               It wasn’t like he didn’t know how he presented to others. After all, for the most part it was purposeful. People here left you alone if you looked like you could rip their throat out at a moments notice. They left you alone if you had a reputation as a strong guy-- and truthfully, that’s all he ever wanted. Was to be by himself, in whatever semblance of peace he could get. It was one of the reasons he didn’t bother going to other variations of the Underground. Truth be told, he probably could go there for an escape-- but that would be admitting that he needed help. Admitting you needed help meant you were weak-- and here, that was something exceptionally hard to do.                   It was also because of the fact Crim sparsely mingled with other variants of himself, that he commonly forgot that his nickname for his brother could be seen as odd. Or ever worrisome depending on which version of his ‘type’ of home you visited. Though for him, it didn’t hold such negative connotations.                   Hearing the other immediately backpedal on his question caused something to soften in his expression-- guilt hitting him square in the chest. Crim certainly wasn’t the best with being civil, if his screaming matches with his brother were anything to go by. Though typically, people hid their assumed missteps or mistakes here. It was almost a bit startling to see it openly. He hadn’t missed the other staring at him either, and it took him a second to long to realize what he was staring at. 

              “Oh... u-uh, yer welcome... I guess...” He seemed a tad bit awkward now, as he made his way to the kitchen. Really not used to being thanked for anything. Hands reflexively finding homes in the pockets of his shorts. “N’its fine. I keep fergetting other versions o’me don’t use dat-- ‘Boss’ is Paps. I started callin him dat after he got inta the guard. Mainly, cause he hates it.” He let out a kind of half chuckle, as he got a couple containers of lasagna from the fridge-- popped the lids off, and put them in the microwave for a couple minutes. Crim’s humor manifested quite commonly in the form of messing with people. Though never in a truly sadistic way, but he had gotten a kick out of making people think he was sadistic once or twice. Though he wasn’t about to pull that right now.                “Joke got even better when he was promoted ta captain, n’other people started using it. Though if ya wanna keep yer hearing, best ta not call em that.” While he was talking about his Papyrus, might as well warn them. The younger skeleton had needed to roughen up just like Crim, and it showed clear as day.                “Though, he won’t be rough on ya since he knows other versions o’me aren’t out to annoy him. Think it’s mainly cause he scares em, but that’s just my theory.” Just like most other Sanses, he could talk about his brother for quite a while. Red eyelights went to the microwave as it dinged-- going and rummaging in the door for a couple of forks, before he retrieved the food and handed one of the containers to the other. 

[rubrumtimor-blog]

l0stsans‌:

       When he heard a voice, he jumped, sitting up with eye BLAZING with swirling pink and blue. It was the equivalent of a kitten arching its back however, especially given how it flickered in his socket before slowly frizzing out. His skull sweated, both from raging nerves and the amount of magic he’s been burning through unsuccessfully.        Eventually, and quickly, realizing that the other was a variant of his, it didn’t exactly make him feel more comfortable on it’s own. He let the other talk, his usual smile becoming small and wary. Now, if he was going off of looks, he’d say trusting this skeleton wasn’t the way to go. But given his lack of any other option, he figured… it was even dumber to refuse an offer of help.        He blinked, before slowly walking towards the other and eventually taking the his hand. He let out a curt breath of air as he stoop more fully, stepping a bit closer but just not TOO much. “Thanks.” He said, quite genuinely. He knew it could still be a trap, but he also knew that maybe being RUDE to someone who could possibly help to keep you ALIVE wasn’t smart. 

           Crim hadn’t felt the least bit intimidated when the other had been spooked-- both because he knew they were exceptionally low on magic, and also because he typically wasn’t scared of his variants from the gecko. Most of the time, they didn’t have a shred of LV-- and that alone gave him an advantage over most stat-wise. Not to mention, the sheer factor that he’d simply been in more fights than the rest. Resulting in his desensitization to the simple flare of magic. Lots of dogs barked more than they actually bit people.               A huff of a sigh left the rougher looking skeleton when they’d taken his hand-- a breath released he didn’t know he’d been holding in. He merely nodded at the other’s thanks, before the two of them were taken though one of his usual shortcuts. When reality faded back into view, they were no longer surrounded by snow and tree’s-- but rather, located within a home that was familiar and not at the same time.               Of course, the rougher skeleton brothers hadn’t bothered with decorating much. Instead-- there were several places on the walls that bore scratches, dents, paint over spackle, and there was even a hole punched through it along the stairs. Attached to that hole, was a long string of sticky notes-- the brothers own version of the ‘sock on the floor’. 

          “... Ye want somethin ta eat? Would probs help dat magic problem o’yers.” Crim had since released the other’s hand, and had taken a few steps back to give them space. Pulling out his phone, he noted the time. “Boss won’t be outta his meeting wit Dyne fer a couple hours-- so we gotta little bit’a peace n’quiet before den. S’long as ye stay in da house though, you’ll be safe.” Pocketing his cell, he went over to the coat hanger by the door-- shrugging his own off his shoulders and hanging it up. Crim had thought nothing of it, but in hindsight-- likely it wasn’t a good idea to display the countless scars, dents, and cracks along his bones. He tended to wear loose muscle shirts under his jacket, and he just so happened to wear one today.          “All we got is lasagna though-- unless ya want me ta make a run ta Grillby’s er something. Don’t care either way.” Though, it wasn’t like his Paprus’s cooking was bad-- it actually was quite good. They couldn’t afford to waste food, so the skeleton’s cooking had actually turned out quite well. 

[rubrumtimor-blog]

efflorescencearcana‌:

Her smile turned into an outright grin at the reaction she got out of him. All according to plan. She couldn’t help but laugh as she gently patted the back of his skull.

“Aww, what’s the matter? Need me to say it some more for ya? I don’t think I’ve quite gotten it down yet.” With an impish curl of her lips, she leaned her head close to him, where ears would be if he had any. “Y’know, Sans, you’re pretty cute when you’re embarrassed. Makes me wanna tease ya more.”

She pulled away with another giggle, arms falling to around his middle. The whole name thing was interesting, as she took his words in, if a bit eyebrow-raising.

“Weird tradition, but I guess you’d never run out of name ideas,” she noted. There were so many fonts in existence at this point. Though, maybe it was the more traditional fonts? Hm, maybe she’d ask for details later.

…Definitely later, as focus now fell onto Crim and his revealed age. Lacey at first blinked owlishly at the skeleton, staring at him, before suddenly snorting, expression turning into one of absolute amusement.

“What??? No way,” she couldn’t help but snicker behind a hand. “I can’t believe I’m dating an old man.” Her words were all in jest of course. In truth, it didn’t really surprise her. The fact that monsters could live a long time. It just seemed to kinda… fit. Magic, long lifespans, all that stuff. It was all pretty cool to think about: It was amazing that she lived in a type of world where that stuff existed. “But, you know, you look pretty good for your age. Can’t see a wrinkle on ya.”

Lacey followed the comment up with a teasing pinch to his cheek. It was so hard not to tease him like this. And… in truth, she hoped all the joking would help distract him from more worrying thoughts. It was her best-known strategy when it came to negative feelings and her easy go-to.

“I’m a mere 23 years old,” she stated, head lifting in false pride before the facade crumbled with another twinkle of laughter. “But you could probably guess mine easy enough.”

It was then she caught notice of that familiar glow she’d seen last night coming through his sweater. Smiling, she squeezed a hand between the two of them and tapped a finger against his chest.

“By the way, you’re glowing again. In case you didn’t know.”

             That-- that was certainly not the reaction he’d anticipated. For a moment, he merely stared at her-- frankly shocked by how... okay she was about it. Than again, Crim wasn’t used to the concept of acceptance in and of itself-- so-- it was a bit hard to tell if this was normal or not. Though, he was thankful for it. The nerves that had started to bubble under his bones dissipating in a matter of seconds.                He was of course, drawn out of his little trance when the girl tapped on his chest. Drawing attention to the glow that radiated from his shirt like he was a skeletal lava lamp. The red flush that had calmed on his cheeks just a moment ago, flared up with a vengeance. Of course, the acceptance of his age had made it glow a little bit brighter-- as if it was spiting him. The usage of his name so casually certainly didn’t help either. Or how she called him cute. Or how she said she wanted to tease him. 

            “T-that.. u-uh--” In truth he had known. He’d felt it. He wasn’t aware it had been that obvious. “... M’not old.” He first grumbled, eyelights falling away as he held her a bit closer as if to hide. Sockets closing and coming to rest against her shoulder. “N’I’m not cute.” He was well aware this would likely incite more teasing-- but he certainly wasn’t about to accept it. Not to mention, there was a deep, deep part of him... that liked it. That deep part of him, was also what fueled the glowing of his soul. “N’... n’... its... nice. When ya say my name-- but I... dunno how ta deal with it.” Maybe it was his hangover, maybe it was the fact that he’d given her the wrong impression about his name before-- or maybe, it was for another reason entirely-- but... he wanted to be truthful about that one thing, and push his walls aside for a moment. To be honest with himself-- and her.              “S’different when... when ye say it.” His voice had devolved to a flustered mutter, almost a slight whine to his voice-- but not one that was derived from complaining. More so, frustration towards himself. “Makes ma soul feel like it can’t sit still-- makes me feel like I can’t sit still-- but its not bad-- just... I.. I don’t know.” He held her a bit tighter then, leaning into her more. “Makes me happy-- n’this weird jittery-ness follows dat n’... n’I’m probably sounding weird, ain’t I?” Truly Crim didn’t know what to do with the desire to show affection. Nor could he recognize it as such. Because for the longest time, it had been something that was off limits. So he’d never even entertained such things in his head, or even had them in any forefront of his mind. Always shoving them deep into a whole where they wouldn’t come up. Her teasing him now, with the fact he knew the feelings were mutual-- did things to him that he didn’t understand what to do with. 

[rubrumtimor-blog]

l0stsans‌:

@rubrumtimor || starter

       This wasn’t EXACTLY the kind of place he was looking for.        Everything inside of Sans told him he was an idiot for being so careless. Or maybe he was just jumping to CONCLUSIONS. But after so long of looking out for both his brother and his own well-being in his native verse, he could tell when a place just REEKED of LV. Not all violence, after-all, is deadly.

       “Dammit.”         After his third TRY to leave, it was clear he was simply all dry of any magic. Maybe enough to possibly DEFEND himself, but he figured waiting it out and avoiding anybody was his best bet. He wasn’t much of a fighter anyways.

           It was a bit painful watching this.               Unlike other variants of himself, Crim actually did his patrols. He had to. You couldn’t afford to slack off down here, and while he did take naps on his shifts from time to time-- that was only due to exhaustion derived from insomnia.               It was on one of these patrols, that he spotted a rather familiar visage. Curiosity pecked at his skull, so he remained at a distance for a little while. Merely observing. Though, it quickly became apparent what was going on as he watched them fail to shortcut-- supposedly-- home.               Not wanting to see someone with his face get turned to dust, a sigh fell through pointed teeth as he trudged through the snow towards them. If he didn’t do anything, likely someone else would come along and make them easy EXP.

          “Das enough, ya bag o’bones. Ya stick out ere’like a sore thumb, ya know.” He tried to make his voice sound a little more friendly. Though he was used to being more gruff with new people, so that was a bit of a challenge. “It ain’t safe for ye ere, but m’sure ya already realized dat. Unless ya wanna end up on de choppin block, best ta come wit me.” He’d stopped his advances about 10 or so feet from the other-- adamantly trying not to spook them. A hand was pulled out from his pocket, holding it out to the variant. He wasn’t about to chance a stroll through Snowdin, and letting so many eyes see the other. 

[rubrumtimor-blog]

efflorescencearcana‌:

Lacey knew that if she let it, this was gonna be a thing. A ‘who’s really at fault’ conversation consisting of who should have done what and when, and what shouldn’t have been done. A back-and-forth she didn’t want to let linger for both of their sakes. She’d been in that type of situation far too many times before. So, the young woman merely hummed in response, hands running along his back.

“And you shouldn’t feel bad for freezing up,” she said, choosing not to dismiss his words about her not having to feel guilty. “It sounds like you were having a panic attack or something. Doesn’t seem like you had much control of it. …So don’t beat yourself up over it, alright? Just means I’ll know what to do in the future if it happens again.” A pause, before starting again, slower this time. “It’s ok to not get things right immediately. This is gonna be a learning process, for both of us, and that’s ok.”

She knew that much, at least. With him being a monster along with his own hangups, and her with her own problems and rash decisions, and that’s not even getting into the whole public thing, they were gonna have to learn from each other here. And that… that was fine. That’s just part of being in a relationship. It was a familiar fact that she was more than willing to go through again for him.

There was almost a sigh of relief when he admitted that he didn’t really mind her using his real name. She hadn’t wanted to overstep, but now that she’d gotten confirmation from a sober Crim that it was alright, she felt less hesitant about it.

“Alright, good,” she chirped, voice more cheerful now. “Wasn’t planning on using it when we weren’t alone.” She pressed her cheek against his, a smile now growing along her face. “But, see, now I gotta get used to saying it since I’ve been using Crim all this time.” Was she trying to lighten the mood? Yeah she was. A bonus if she got him embarrassed over it. “Sans. Sans. Sansy. Saaaaaans. Sahns.” She was purposely trying different inflections and pronunciations. “Hmmmm, ya know, it kinda reminds me of the fonts.”

A giggle-snort left her, and though the change in subject got her thinking a little more seriously, the smile on her face didn’t vanish. Instead, it softened while her arms gave him a squeeze. Even though what he had confessed last night did bring on some… very existential thoughts, this type of thing wasn’t something a person should carry alone.

“Nah, it’s good that you got that stuff out. And I’m happy it was me that got to hear it, even if you don’t agree.” And she knew he wouldn’t. Not with the worries on his mind. But it was best to get that out there. She’d rather help him shoulder this than have him do it on his own. “Best to not hold all that in. So while I accept your apology, I don’t regret that you told me.”

And that wasn’t gonna change, no matter what he said.

              It was a common theme that here on the surface-- things were a lot more forgiving. Of course he expected as much, since it certainly wasn’t cruel here. However, that didn’t mean that his mind had truly wrapped around it. Understanding a concept mentally, and understanding it in the longterm thought processes was two different things.                Blaming himself for freezing up was a prime example of this. Down below in Mt.Ebott-- that fault and failure to act would have been placed on his shouldered. The blame on no one else but himself. However, up here-- that wasn’t the case. Up here, things like panic attacks and PTSD episodes weren’t seen as being the fault of the sufferer. Something that he routinely forgot.                Not only that, but the whole process of learning in a relationship was new as well. He’d stayed away from all forms of romance for several reasons. Both for his own sake, but also the sake of those around him. Well, until they forgot anyway.               His thoughts were soon distracted when she brought up the prospect of his name. Or rather, using it. Perhaps it was an educated hunch, but he had a sinking feeling that he was in trouble. His worries were confirmed not but a few seconds later when a chorus of his name rang from her lungs. This, of course, earned a disgruntled noise from a very red-faced skeleton. Skull coming into contact with her shoulder with a soft thud. What made it worse, is the way his soul glowed through his sweater.

              “... Skeleton’s are named after fonts. Bro’s got a similar name. M’father’s name was one, too.” He grumbled out. Not daring to raise his head and look at her. Likely, her expression would make his flustered state worse. Well, at least she’d accepted his apology about the whole time shenanigans. Even if they had differing views about it-- it did lift a little bit of the guilt in his heart. “Lotta people take up fake names ta protect themselves. Was da same fer us.” In their case specifically-- it was to separate themselves form their father. So those that might have had a grudge against the old royal scientist wouldn’t come looking for them. “At dis point, Crim’s been used more dan ma real one. S’probably been... least 150 years since I started using it.”               It had been about then-- that he realized he’d left out a vital piece of information that she might have wanted to know. His age. Truthfully, he hadn’t even thought about it... After all, lifespan wasn’t a thing monsters typically thought about. Partly because they lived so long, but also because... Well, it used to not matter how long your life could be-- but rather, how long you could survive.                “U-Uh... I fergot ta tell ya ma age, didn’t I?” He stated the obvious. Like an idiot. “Its uh... 240. Fer monsters, remove a 0. Well, in most cases. Things slow down once ya get older, so it get a bit harder ta gauge then... Fer instance, ain’t sure how old da King n’Tori are.” His voice sounding a bit nervous, he continued. “Uh... woulda put me at bout 9 in your years when I started using ‘Crim’. Boss woulda been 5. Course monsters age quicker when their younger-- but honestly skeleton’s grow slowly anyhow, so ain’t like there’s much of a difference.”

[rubrumtimor-blog]

efflorescencearcana‌:

She knew that him being here, and having brought the accessory that he did, that might have been the case. …Was definitely the case. But she still wanted to be sure, so that there was no room for doubt or misinterpretation. Pulled back into another hug, Lacey wrapped her arms around him just as tightly, one hand, the one not holding the collar, rubbing up and down his back.

Hearing the way his voice wavered as he gave reason for the collar, and, admittedly she had been curious as to when he’d gotten it, she could tell he still wasn’t emotionally stable. Feeling his head against her shoulder, she pressed the side of her face against his skull. At the mention of his name, she… felt a little bad.

“Sorry, I should have asked if I could use it,” she apologized, leaning into him more. “You said it while drunk, not sober. Should have considered that. If you don’t want me to use it I won’t.” Even if he didn’t mean the complaint, it was a boundary she should have asked whether she was allowed to cross or not. “…And it’s ok to be freaking out. This is a lot, for both of us, so it’s ok.”

It was when he addressed her fear of him disappearing on her that her heart sunk. Even more so when Crim mentioned how he hadn’t needed space. Shit, had she messed that up too? Had she made it worse? Her worried thoughts of whether she’d made the wrong call or not were once again fresh and stabbing into her. Each one’s sting amplified when he even started to apologize and cry against her.

No… Oh, no… He shouldn’t be the one apologizing. This was her fault. She’d made the wrong decision in hopes that’d it’d help, when it obviously hadn’t. She screwed this up and now he was blaming himself for it.

“Hey… Hey, don’t be sorry,” Lacey tried, though her throat felt tight. She pulled away, pushing back against the bony hand at her head, just enough to see his face. Her free hand came to cup his cheek. She looked a bit upset herself, but still, she smiled. Something warm and comforting, before finally pressing tiny kisses across his face. Making exaggerated ‘mwah’ noises along his cheeks and forehead while a thumb wiped at some of the tears. “You didn’t do any of that, alright? I just… thought you needed time to yourself and I… didn’t wanna be overbearing o-or… I didn’t know if you would be ok with me touching you. I know sometimes I can be a bit much with that stuff.” She was used to breakdowns with certain people, or panic attacks. Yet she messed this up, and she sounded devastated because of it. Perhaps even being slightly teary-eyed. “I should have asked instead of assuming. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. So it’s not your fault, ok?”

Turning off her mental block, Lacey allowed herself to be more physical. Her nose nuzzled against his cheek, as she gave a kinda broken laugh of her own.

“Guess we both kinda suck at this.” Pulling her head back, she grabbed his hand. “C’mon, let’s go to the couch and you can hold me as long as ya want, ok?”

Saying that, she gave his hand a gentle squeeze. Snatching her cellphone in the same hand as the collar, she led Crim out of the kitchen and to the couch of her living room. The woman pushed many of the envelopes that covered her coffee table, some of them clearly bills, away and to the side so that she could place the collar and her cellphone on it. With her other hand now free, she sat down on the middle cushion of her couch, pulling Crim with her and into her arms. Both wrapped securely around him, not intending to let go unless she had to.

“…S’this better?”

            When she apologized for using his name due to his complaint-- he felt bad. In truth, he had liked it, but didn’t know how to process it. Wasn’t used to it. As a result, frustration with himself burned in his soul, and that had bubbled up into a complaint he didn’t truly mean. Something that embarrassingly he knew he’d have to clear up soon.             Because aggression and aggravation were the baseline when he didn’t know how to deal with something. Whether that was towards himself or others depended entirely on what it was-- and how comfortable he was around said person. Was it unhealthy? Oh, certainly. Though when were any of his coping mechanisms healthy?             His thoughts were interrupted by kisses to his face-- something that jump-started his soul in his chest, and caused his bony face to glow red. Feeling himself freeze up to a degree, but not for any bad reasons. More so, it had been entirely unexpected-- and once again, he wasn’t used to it. Though, her words soon distracted him from his flustered mess. Or perhaps more accurately, her tone did. Though, he remained silent for the time being. Allowing her to speak her thoughts, so he could know what she exactly meant by that.

               So she... was blaming herself for this? For how he was right now? No that-- that wasn’t right! He was the one that got intoxicated. He was the one that spilled a million things he shouldn’t have. He was the one that didn’t say anything as she walked out of the room. He should have called out to her, told her to wait... yet... He’d been frozen in that moment. Frozen because of his own stupid fears that had nothing to do with her. So while the physical affection she showed him made him calmer-- it did not quell the worry that persisted in his soul.               Crim merely nodded when she proposed going to the couch. Not quite trusting his voice yet. Allowing himself to be lead into her living room. Always an observant guy, he didn’t overlook the bills that laid strewn on the table. He was no stranger to strife. He was no stranger to the struggle to support yourself. While the skeleton brothers certainly lived easier once the younger of the two became the captain of the guard-- it didn’t mean the majority of their lives were easy sailing. Filing it away in his brain, he settled on asking about it a little later. For now... For now, he wrapped his arms around the girl, and held her close. Head coming to rest against hers-- having less hesitance towards physical touch since he was still emotionally unstable-- and needed it right now. If only to ground him.                “... Yeah. Dis s’better.” His voice was quiet at first-- a mutter-- a test to see whether or not it’d hold up. it indeed was more stable than before, so he continued on. “... N’lacey, it ain’t yer fault.” Sockets drifted closed as he spoke, a sigh falling from non-existent lungs. “Don’t be blaming yerself for me being fucked in the soul. I know ye didn’t do any o’that. Only reason I thought dat, is cause I ain’t used ta the concept of people ‘needing space’. Didn’t get dat luxery before, n’so it doesn’t help me now. Ya couldn’t’a known that.” Not to mention abandonment issues-- but that was a can of worms for another day. “N’sure, ya coulda asked-- but I shouldn’t of frozen up like dat either. Ya did what cha thought was right. Ain’t gotta feel bad bout that, kay?”                “... N’I’m not really... s’fine ta use that name.” That was more of a hushed mutter-- barely audible, but there nonetheless. “M’not... actually upset bout it... I just... not used ta it.” He wasn’t used to a lot of things. In a way, this had all been thrown in his face. By himself no less. “Dere personal, yeah-- but... s’not bad ta use em... N’private, at least.”                “N’I do need ta apologize.” In what was an obvious attempt at a change of subject, his voice changed from a whisper to one of normal volume. “I dumped heavy shit on you. That’s somethin I shouldn’t have done. That’s stuff ya shouldn’t have ta worry bout, yet-- I went and spilled way to much to ya. So... m’sorry. Ya shouldn’t have ta worry bout the world suddenly stoppin, and not remembering anything... Dats... dats fears only I should have ta deal with.”                  Least, he thought so anyway. 

[rubrumtimor-blog]

heybruhitme‌:

@rubrumtimor | X

*yeah sure!! I see nothin wrong with tha’!! Trust me–’s a doozy.

      And the fool hands him over one of his rubber chickens. Even giving it a squeeze to make that comical honk sound. Beating someone with this thing is truly hilarious and good fun! Some slaps that hurt like hell followed by that fuckin honk it makes. ‘s the best thing ever.

             He just takes a long look at the rubber atrocity. Then at the other. Then back at the chicken. Confusion mixed in with his glare as he raised a bony brow at him.              “... Are ya seriously volunteering yerself ta get beat on by me? Ya alright dere in yer head, bud?” Was he tempted? Yes, but that was irrelevant. Crim wasn’t just going to beat on someone without a proper reason, regardless if it was with a rubber chicken or a sock filled with rocks.

[rubrumtimor-blog]

efflorescencearcana‌:

When she’d closed the door behind her, Lacey couldn’t help but lean her back against it. She shut her eyes as she took a deep breath, an attempt to calm herself of nerves. Of possibilities of what could go wrong. Anxieties rearing their ugly head as they occasionally were want to do. But this time it wasn’t over something small or insignificant.

Rubbing at her eyes to get rid of the last lingering bit of sleepiness, she finally straightened. Remembering that it was her phone that woke her up, she fetched her cellphone from her purse and glanced at the missed number as she walked into the open kitchen, a half-wall and counter dividing it from the rest of the space. Lacey verbally groaned at the listed name and the fact there was a voicemail.

“What is it now, Bee…?” It was an almost frustrated hiss as she put the phone to her ear, listening to the message while she retrieved a bowl from the cabinet. Though she paused for a brief moment before pulling an extra one out just in case.

“Lacey, sweety, it’s me! Your wonderful cousin! Calling you! …Again! How many times am I gonna have to leave you a message before you call me back? Anyways, it’s been a while, and I was hoping that you could drop by for a visit so I can see you. It’s been far too long – ”

“It’s been a month,” Lacey mumbled as she poured herself some fruit loops with the milk from the fridge following.

“ – well, I suppose I can always stop by, myself, if necessary. But I knooowww you’d absolutely hate that. I just… wish you wouldn’t be such a stranger. I worry about you, and– wish you could rely on me sometimes, you know? …Oh, shoot, lessons are about to start so I gotta go. Lacey! You better call me back this time, alright? Love you!”

Once the message was over, Lacey deleted it and put her cellphone atop the counter that served as the kitchen’s dining table where she ended up sitting. Her cereal remained untouched for a good 30 seconds as she took that moment to put her head in her hands to just. Breathe. Ugh… She was so persistent… And this really wasn’t what she needed right now.

By the time she had finished her breakfast, she’d looked over at her bedroom door far too many times to count, much to her own embarrassment. It had gotten to the point where she assumed that he just… wasn’t going to come out at all. As time ticked by and she rested her head against her arms on the counter top, that possibility seemed more and more likely. …And that made it hurt all the more.

Alone, her mind went over her own actions, and she wondered if she’d made the wrong decision. Maybe she should have stayed there with him. Maybe she should have hugged him and said… said… she didn’t know, but she should have said something! But what if he did need the space?  What if she did all that and it made him hate her? Lacey’s thoughts were everywhere as she tried to think of what she could have done to make it better.

So, when she heard the click of a door opening, Lacey’s head shot up instantly. Gaze flicking up to see Crim. He… was still here. He didn’t leave. Or… if he did, he came back. But, regardless of which it was, he was here, and he was making his way into the kitchen. He… still looked just as bad as when she’d left him alone, which caused concern to bubble up inside her.

Lacey swiveled slightly on her stool to look at him as the words ‘we need to talk’ hit her ears. Shoulders tensed despite his following words reassuring her that it wasn’t something… bad. Because he still looked so frustrated. She couldn’t help but watch as he paced back and forth across her kitchen.

There were several times where she opened her mouth to try and interject or say something, but words came up empty when he finally looked at her, brown eyes meeting empty eyesockets briefly. Fingers dug into her boxers as he continued, talking about how he wasn’t a ‘good guy’. …She knew that, of course, but he seemed keen to remind her. Yet, as he grew quieter and stilled she again got the urge to just… get up and hug him. To do what she forced herself not to not that long ago.

She held back, of course. Watching him as he got closer and pulled something from his pocket. Eyes followed the object he placed before her and it took her a second to process what it was. Was this…? She recalled his words, back when he rescued her that one night. About how the ring he’d given her was just a weaker version of his collar. A collar similar to the one he just placed on the table. So, presumably, this was the same as his. Something stronger than her ring to keep her safe, if his words were anything to go by.

Taking the accessory into her hands, she turned it around this way and that, taking note of the colors. Fingers ran over the metal studded bones. Huh. It was… sweet, in a way. The fact that… he was actually considering this, basically confirming that he was willing to try, made her cheeks warm. …Even if the way he said it kinda stung.

Lacey took a shaky breath as she gripped the collar tight. She stood up, brows furrowed but a small smile directed at the skeleton. Then, finally, she allowed herself to do what she’d been wanting to do since she woke up. She hugged him.

“Jeez… What’s with all this me ‘winning’ talk…” Her voice was a bit quieter than normal. Almost melancholy. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to do this if you don’t want to. I don’t want you to be forced into this, because…”  Lacey’s face was pressed against his shoulder, making her words slightly muffled. “…Then it feels like some kind of obligation. …I don’t want that. I want it to be your choice. …And that’s why I can’t accept this.” Her grip on the collar still in her hand tightened. “Not until I get a straight answer.”

Slowly, Lacey pulled back, hands situated on his shoulder, holding him slightly at arm’s length.

“So…” She took another deep breath to prepare herself. Her expression looked serious, but her eyes were soft, gaze directed towards him gentle. “What I wanna ask is… Sans, do you wanna go out with me?”

              It was about when the girl hugged him, that he felt he could breath again.                   Crim really didn’t fully realize just how much he liked physical affection-- or rather, needed it to a degree. After all, his entire life had been a series of hardships. Trail after trail, strife after strife. While he and his brother had hugged as children, that was about it-- and that was likely over a couple hundred years ago by now. In the Underground, it had been dangerous to show affection like that. It labeled those around you as an exploit for others to use. Although here... here it was safe-- for the most part. Certainly safer than back then. It was one of the reasons he was even considering all this. Because despite his fears, they were largely unwarranted on the surface.                   Although it was clear when the girl started to speak, that he’d phrased his words incorrectly. Not really a surprise, since Crim already knew that he was horrid when it came to talking about emotions. Let alone trying to express his own in a way that was actually readable. It seems that his own inner frustrations had boiled to the surface, and nearly burned up his message as a result.                     Again, not a surprise.                     The fact he’d used his actual name though, seemed to make a strike directly at his soul. Said manifestation of his being coming to glow brightly in his chest. Color quickly spreading on his cheekbones-- but he didn’t look away from her. He seemed to get tenser and tenser-- annoyed with himself-- until-- 

                “... Of course I want to. Whaddya think the collar means?” It was a muttered, almost grumbled admission-- as he grabbed hold of her hands to take them off his shoulders-- and stepped forward-- wrapping his arms around her tightly. Like if he didn’t, she’d disappear. One hand going to the back of her head, mainly-- to keep her from looking at his expression as it turned bright red due to what he was about to say, and the actions he’d just done.                  “I... I bought dat collar awhile ago. It takes time ta make a magic imprint.” He elaborated with a slightly uneven voice, nerves creeping their way in. “... but I didn’t do it cause I was figuring on us being...a thing... I just...” His voice faltered for a moment, trying to find the right words. “I just hoped that... that maybe things would stay. That maybe the kid would keep their word. N’if they did... then.. if by some possibility you were even interested in a skeleton-- then... then maybe I could give it to you.”                  In truth, the collar had more symbolism than its intended purpose. It was something he’d gotten out of hope. Something that was evidence that a small part of him believed in the kid’s promise. Something that showed that he wanted to genuinely be with her. That was the true reason he’d brought it with him. Why he’d given it to her. The aspect of protection had only been a needed bonus.                  “... I told you-- I suck at dis.” His head came to slump to her shoulder, his voice turning from grumbled, to what seemed to be aggravatingly embarrassed. “N’stop using ma name as a fucking weakness o’mine, dammit.” While that was a complaint, it held very little water in his tone. “I phrased it dat way cause... cause I don’t know how else ta fucking say it,  without ma soul going crazy, ok? M’still fucking freaking out.” He was trying. Failing. Horribly-- but trying nonetheless. He still really wasn’t in the best shape emotionally, but he at least wanted to do this. Let her know that he... that he wasn’t going to...                  “I... I know what I said n’I didn’t... I didn’t want cha thinking m’gunna vanish on ya if ya fucking messed up.” A small tremble had worked its way into his frame as he held her a tad bit tighter. “I don’t... I don’t want cha thinking that ya need ta give me space when I just... when I really just need ta hold ya fer a while.” His voice was getting quieter, more vulnerable. He was breaking down. He knew that. Could he stop it? No. He’d wanted to avoid it-- that’s why frustration and aggravation had manifested. They were walls in an attempt to keep himself together, that ultimately came tumbling down the minute she’d spoken to him. Great. 

                “Dammit...” His voice was more angry at himself-- and this time, that was painfully obvious from the weakness in it. The way it cracked in his throat. “I didn’t mean ta drag you into this shit...s’my fault-- s’all my fault... m’sorry... m’so fuckin sorry.” His words broke down into apologies, unable to stop the tears once they’d started. His soul was hurting, it was scared-- and he didn’t know how to make it stop. Though, there was something underlying it all-- that had shaken him to the core. Something that he feared developed in her when he’d told her all that stuff last night. Something that he feared was there when she decided to leave him alone this morning.                  “I didn’t mean ta scare ya... I didn’t mean ta push ya away I just... I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing... M’sorry-- m’so fucking sorry...” Because what else was he suppose to think? The whole ‘giving people space’ thing wasn’t common in the Underground. You didn’t get time for ‘space’. He understood the concept, yes, but he couldn’t help but think this as a result of it. 

[rubrumtimor-blog]

efflorescencearcana‌:

It took her a few minutes for her brain to catch up with what she was seeing. Blinking a few times, she just watched him. Smile slowly fading as she processed the tremble in his stance. The way his eyelights vanished. She’d… never seen that before. It was jarring enough that it completely woke her up. Posture straightening, eyes widening, her lips pulled into a frown.

“Crim…?” She started, using the name she was used to. Now that she was actually thinking, she didn’t know if saying the real name he’d given her was… well, allowed. Or if that would upset him more than he already appeared to be. “Hey, are you… ok?”

No, of course he wasn’t. She wasn’t oblivious. It was obvious he was distraught. Though her hands initially lifted, they stopped partway and fell back to her sides. Instead of getting closer, she scooted farther away from him on the bed to give him space. He did say last night that he was gonna be… really rough when he remembered stuff, and that already seems to have happened. So she didn’t want to make it any worse than she already had just by being there.

“Do you… uh, need anything?” Lacey then fumbled in getting out of the blankets to stand up. She awkwardly scratched at the back of her neck before running her fingers through her hair. The normally chipper young woman looked to be at a loss with herself. “I can make breakfast. If you wanna… stick around? But if not, that’s ok too! If you… need to get back home or something.”

Her voice was a pretty good attempt at being light. A type of cheerfulness dripping in her voice that was difficult to tell on whether it was fake or not. She didn’t really know what to do in this situation. Didn’t know how to comfort when it was clear she was the problem to begin with.

“Don’t got anything fancy, but I got cereal and toast! And peanut butter to put on it, or just plain ol’ butter if you prefer?” She was rambling, not daring to look at him the entire time. Afraid that would make it worse. “Actually, you know what, how about I go on ahead and make myself something. And give you some time to yourself.” …She hated this. She was doing the exact opposite of what she wanted to do, which was to hug him and tell him it was ok. “And… if you want, you can join me when you’re feeling up to it. A-and, ya know… if you don’t, if you just wanna go home, I’ll understand.”

She was giving him an out. Because she wanted it to be his choice. She couldn’t force him, and she didn’t want to. And she really would. Understand, that is. If he left. It was a lot he unpacked, and despite her own attempt at comforting words… seeing him now, the possibility of him cutting contact after everything he said… wouldn’t surprise her in the least. Even if that hurt to think about. Because if that’s what he wanted then she wouldn’t stop him.

So Lacey was quick in walking over to the door, making it halfway out before stopping in her tracks. She looked over her shoulder at him, another attempt at a smile painted across her face. She pointed to the glass of water and pain killers on the nightstand table on his other side.

“Don’t forget to take those. I’m sure your head is killing you right now.”

And with that she was gone, having shut the door behind her. Right. Ok. Now to busy herself with breakfast and… wait.

             Loneliness was something that Crim knew all to well.                 He was alone in his own right in the underground-- forced to face the same torment reset after reset. He forced himself into solitude due to the pain of those he cared about forgetting him, but also because it simply wasn’t safe to have people you gave a damn about. They could be used and exploited as a weakness. They could be hurt because you pissed someone off one day, and they wanted revenge. While the surface was certainly much safer than the Underground, that didn’t mean that factor hadn’t been erased entirely.              Although most of all, Crim knew loneliness in his soul. A deep ache that left him cold all over, but also a piercing pain that threatened to devour him whole. That was the same emotion he felt as he watched the door close, as he saw her smile-- before leaving him alone in the room with his thoughts.              He knew that she meant well. He knew that she likely was just trying to give him space. He knew this, but something about it still hurt. While she’d spoken to him, initially reaizing that there was something wrong-- he’d frozen up. Unable to say anything. Unable to look at her. Unable to breath. Although when she left, the room soon began to strangle him. 

            ‘Don’t go’ he wanted to say-- but couldn’t. ‘Please’ he wanted to add, but couldn’t form the words. Instead, pointed teeth were just left ajar-- as he stared at the closed door with dark sockets. His soul hurt, but wasn’t close to cracking-- not yet, anyway. Slowly, he regained the ability to move his body-- and quietly crept over to the pain pills and water. Grabbing the pills, he went ahead and downed them without the water. Hoping that maybe, it would help his splitting headache-- but also the pain that resided in his chest.              It was also because of that pain, the he knew a decision had already been made for him. No matter how much he wanted to cut all of this off-- it was to late now. He wouldn’t be able to do it now. He wouldn’t be able to walk away-- especially not after she’d reciprocated his feelings last night. He wouldn’t be able to hurt her like that... Because now-- now he knew that walking away would hurt her. Just the thought of it made the pain in his chest worsen. 

            Spotting his jacket and collar still on the edge of the bed-- he snagged them-- shrugging his jacket on, and securing his collar around the vertebra of his neck. His fingers lingered along the leather, a sigh slipping through pointed teeth. An idea came to him, and he knew it was a bad idea-- but, he was, an idiot. Although truthfully it was a halfway good idea-- since if they were going to be idiots, might as well be safe idiots.                 Since he was sober now, long trips were safe. Might as well get this over with...                 Seems like a purchase he’d made out of fantasy was actually going to be useful now. 

            It ended up being quite a while before Crim emerged from the bedroom. In truth, he didn’t look any better than when the girl had left-- and truth be told, he wasn’t. Eyelights were still vacant from his sockets, but he did seem to look at her as he entered the kitchen. Although of course that gaze soon fell away shortly after, but hey-- it was an attempt.              “We... we need to talk.” He knew that was evident, but from the way the girl was acting-- he feared that she would dance around the subject for his sake. When... when that really wasn’t what should be done right now. For either of their sake’s. “L-Look I-- I don’t mean that in a bad way I just... ugh.” Becoming frustrated with himself, his gritted his teeth and started to pace back and forth. Yeah. He really wasn’t good about the whole ‘taking about your feelings’ thing. “Look I said a lotta things last night-- a lotta it I SHOULDN’T have said-- things you SHOULDN’T know-- you do now. I put a burden on you that you shouldn’t have to deal with. I’m not... I’m not fucking delusional, though. What I said was true-- I just... ugh.” Becoming frustrated with himself, he promptly pushed his palms into his eyesockets. “I wanna lie and say its not true, so you don’t gotta worry bout it-- but I ain’t the type to pull that shit, especially not on you.” He looked at her again, but only for a second before he was pacing again. 

            “M’not a good guy.” The pacing suddenly slowed, as he seemed to glare at the floor like it had personally insulted him. “I know you think m’nice. I know you have faith in monsters for rehabilitation--and I really do appreciate that-- and there are good ones. I’m... I’m not one of them.” His sockets squeezed shut as he continued, hands finding their homes in his jacket’s pockets. One of them curling around a strip of colored leather. “I had to do what I had to do. I’m well aware of dat. Though that doesn’t change the fact that what I had to do was fucked. More so than da average monster...” There was a small shake of his head, trying to mentally keep himself on track. “... But-- yer stubborn. I know dat well enough. N’I’m an idiot, that doesn’t seem to be able to follow his own fucking rules... so.. so..”             The annoyance wrapped around tenseness in his shoulders seemed to melt away as the silent seconds passed-- his eyelights finally coming back into dark sockets. They were staring at the floor, as he walked over to the table-- and took something out of his pocket. Setting it down on the surface quietly. Gaze seeming to look anywhere but the object and her, as color rose to his cheekbones.              “So... you win.” The object was a collar, like his own but also not. It was made of soft layered leather, the inside a light pink color-- while the outside was a grey of the same tone. It had holes for the buckle along its entire surface, which made for easy adjustment-- so it wasn’t necessarily required for her to wear it around the neck. All along its surface were smooth black metal studs in the shape of small bones, that almost seemed to have a red sheen-- which gave it a slightly more intricate design. Two rows along the top and bottom, so they wouldn’t interfere with the holes for the buckle.              “... That ring won’t protect you if your actually serious about all this. Things between monsters and humans is still seen as... as controversial and-- I don’t want you gettin hurt.” The color along his face was darkening, hand returning to his pocket out of nervousness. “It uh... collars though are... kind of a statement to monsters so-- its up to you if you want to wear it.” 

[rubrumtimor-blog]

*Hey bruh, have you ever felt the mighty wrath of a rubber chicken before? Scary stuff

              “... No, and I ain’t bout ta start volunteering ta get walloped by a sack of rubber. Though might be entertaining ta watch someone else get beat on with it.” 

[rubrumtimor-blog]

efflorescencearcana‌:

Once he was in her arms, she returned them to where they’d been before. One around his side with a hand on his back, and the other at the back of his head. She let out a soft hum in response to his thanks.

“S’no problem,” she said, just a tad sleepily. It seemed his own tiredness was contagious. Not to mention– this felt nice and comfortable, and she didn’t really have many sleeping issues to begin with. “You deserve to be cared about and all that.”

She wasn’t sure how much of that he heard, as it became apparent that after his own thanks he’d fallen asleep. The only response she got being the rumbling purr that came from his throat. She gave a sigh and decided to close her eyes in hopes that sleep would take her just as quickly. Though it took a little bit, her mind wondering, with concern, how things would all play out in the morning. But, eventually, his purring lulled her to sleep.

                                                             ———————

Between last night and the time morning came around – or was it noon? – Lacey’s sleeping body had reacted like he was a giant teddy bear. Arms locked tightly around him with her legs tangled with his. Her cheek had nuzzled and pressed against the top of his skull. Perhaps she should have given a warning last night, but due to everything that happened, it had completely slipped her mind: The fact that she liked to cling to things in her sleep. Usually pillows or the occasional stuffed animal, but right now Crim currently filled that vacancy.

Though perhaps to his benefit, she absolutely sucked at waking up. Always the type to sleep in or be the slowest she could be at getting out of bed. At least, when she didn’t have errands or work or anything. Although on the other hand, his small movements caused an automatic reaction, her grip around him tightening as she mumbled incoherent and jumbled words against him. Like she was on the cusp of waking up, but not quite there yet. …Actually, if one was to listen more closely, a name could possibly be heard between said nonsense.

“S…ns…….”

Lacey stayed like this for a good few minutes after he’d woken up, her only movements being the steady lift and fall of her chest as she breathed and the tiniest adjustments of her hold on him.

Then, from far away, more towards the front of her apartment, a tune played out. Her phone, forgotten in her purse where she’d placed it close to the front door, rang out faintly. Just loud enough to cause the young woman to stir, albeit slowly and groggily. An arm, the one atop his side, loosened so that her hand could rub at one of her sleep-filled eyes. A yawn followed as she slowly sat up, curly blonde hair ruffled and messy while she blinked blearily. Just… staring at the bedroom door, clearly not fully there, as her phone continued to ring until finally, it stopped.

It took her another minute of just sitting there, very still, until her mind began to whir to life. And even then, it was a very slow process. She turned her head this way and that until she spotted the skeleton next to her. When she did, a small, tired smile formed. Processing that he was there, but not quite the state he was in.

“…Good morning,” came her dreadfully sleepy voice as she rubbed at her eyes once again. “You sleep okay…?”

             Unfortunately enough for him, he was more than close enough to hear the utterance of his name. His actual one. The one he’d told her in a drunken haze. The one that caused his eyelights to widen, and trembles to worsen. Although a new symptom had reared its head at that aspect-- a gentle glow of red from his ribcage, and a light dusting of the same color on his face. Despite his panic, there was a part of him that was happy about that-- and of course, that only proved to further frighten him.             Not to mention, he was torn between disliking the closeness-- and using it as a form of comfort right now. Deep down, a part of him didn’t want to separate from her-- but it was also because of that fact, that his anxiety slowly rose in his chest-- yet, was held back by her all the same. The skeleton wasn’t aware of how touch and affection starved he was, or at least hadn’t come to terms with it yet. So this prospect only firmly solidified confusion in his soul.                Just like most victims of PTSD, loud unexpected noises were a no-go. It certainly wasn’t as bad as an episode, but the sudden noise of her cellphone while in this panicked state did make him nearly jump out of his own bones. Said bones in turn locking up further, and there certainly was a growing worry that he’d become a statue due to how stiff he’d become. Not to mention, the sound certainly didn’t help the pounding headache that was forming. He did try and calm himself down while she slowly awoke, but didn’t make to much headway in the means of improving his condition.                 When her smile shone in his vision, eyelights fell away and were suddenly fascinated by the sheets of the bed. Yeah, there was no way he could look at her. Not when everything was out in the open. Not when his soul felt like it was going to burst in his chest from how fast it was going due to adrenaline fueled panic. There was a great amount of attachment he felt from the memories that were hitting his mind, and that frightened him more than anything else.

               “Y-yeah... I-I slept fine.” While he might have slept fine, his voice indicated that he very much wasn’t fine currently. The resonance of a tremble of vocal cords being the dominating feature of it. Hand still over his teeth, like he was trying to slow his already stopped breathing. A nervous habit that had been developed in the Underground. Because while you were hiding-- you couldn’t let the sound of your breath give you away. Of course, Crim wasn’t deaf-- and when he realized how much his voice gave away, eyelights vanished into dark sockets.                 While he knew the girl wouldn’t hurt him, there were several aspects that made this all the worse. Her knowing this much about him had put him into a state of vulnerability. Something that used to mean that something bad was going to happen. Because if you allowed yourself to be vulnerable down there-- you’d be eaten alive by anyone and everyone. While it might have been safe here-- Crim wasn’t lying when he said his brain was having trouble adjusting to the concept of safety, nor was he simply talking about the aspect of the resets.              Oh. Right. She knew about that now. Fantastic--  he thought, bitterly against himself. 

[rubrumtimor-blog]

voluminousmuses‌:

|| @rubrumtimor​ ||

All Maddie wanted, was to get himself some food. His training session was particularly hard and ruthless today – leaving him not only exhausted but starving too. And the dog monster reckoned he deserved a treat. Luckily, there was a place for him to eat not too far from the gym.

The canine played around with his phone as he walked, and because of that, he hadn’t noticed the group of humans he walked by start to follow him… But it didn’t take them long to make themselves known – their voices raising to call out and make degrading insults towards him. 

Unfortunately, Maddie was quite used to that kind of treatment – As much as humans say they’ve accepted monsters into their societies, the relations between them were still fairly new and thin. Plenty of humans still held onto their hate for his monster kind and liked to voice their disdain, such as this group of humans.

Maddie just simply ignored them and continued on his way.

However, that didn’t seem to bode well with the group – and they showed that by blocking his path. And attempting to move around them only resulted in him getting shoved back. Maddie held in his growl and clenched his fists.

“C’mon, fellas. … there really ain’t no need for this.” he says warily. As much as Maddie reckoned these human’s deserved a good wallop, with his exhausted state, the canine really didn’t think he’d be able to take on and protect himself from all these people…

           Being as observant as he was, acted as a double edged sword.               Monsters on average were the minority among communities here on the surface, so it was commonplace that Crim would take notice if he saw a monster on the street. It being a bit of a rarity, everything considered. So, he watched the other for a bit-- seated atop a bench with his hood drawn up. Since coming to the surface he typically traded in his shorts for pants, so skeletal legs wouldn’t be seen. The less people that noticed he was a monster, or were in turn intimidated by him, the better.            Just as he’d taken to watching the other walk down the path, he noticed pretty quickly a group of humans conversing with one another-- and then proceeding to follow the canine. Alarm bells were ringing in his skull, and that made him get up from his seat and pursue them at a distance. Because due to law, he only could get involved if an altercation occurred. Did the insults make the marrow in his blood boil regardless? Oh, definitely.            It was when one of them put his hands on the male monster, that he grinned. Gold tooth glinting beneath his hood, as he raised his hand-- 

             As it was brought down, pointed red tinted bones fell from the sky above-- piercing concrete with a cold crack. They came to form a wall around the threatened monster, like bars of a protective cage.            “Dat’ll be enough o’that.” He called from a good 20 feet away, walking towards the group at a leisurely pace. “That is, unless ye wanna do some time in a cell. Orrrr-- maybe I could give ya a few bone piercings? Dere free o’charge, but can’t guarantee I won’t miss and hit something major.” A chuckle rang out in his rib-cage, while a couple of the humans took a step back. Reaching up, he pulled down his hood, so they could properly see his expression. He was still smiling, but his voice portrayed aggravation. Like they were testing his patience. 

            “Now, if ya scurry along and I never see your fucking faces again, I won’t report ya. Or give ya any new holes. How’s that sound, ya pieces of trash?” The eyelights in his socket shone a brighter red then, as the same kind of pointed bones materialized behind him-- numerous with the ends pointed towards the group, ready to fly the moment they tried to fight.  “Its your choice. Ma word’ll be taken over yers, no matter what cha spout. So its either dis deal, er nothing.”

[rubrumtimor-blog]

efflorescencearcana‌:

There was a shrug of her shoulders as he spoke. Lacey couldn’t deny that she didn’t have the proper context for the whole soul thing. The scars probably weren’t natural, she could guess that much. But that didn’t mean they were ugly. Plenty of people had their own scars, whether emotionally or physically. Wasn’t anything to be ashamed of, at least in her eyes.

“It’s your soul, so I think it’s fine.”

It was as simple as that to her. 

Though she couldn’t help but giggle at his remark about sober him. …Yeah, that was gonna be a mess in the morning. And that’s if he even decided to stick around for that long. Hell, she wouldn’t blame him if he just up and vanished the moment he got up.

With his arms loosening and unwinding from around her, she merely smiled, giving him one final squeeze and hug before letting him go to get up after a small ‘be right back’. As her feet touched the carpet she did her own stretching of her arms and back. It was probably good to get a little movement in after having been in that position for a bit. However, doing so made one of the top buttons of her dress shirt pop open. Ugh… Right, she had to get out of these clothes. Lacey made quick work of going over to her dresser and pulling out the required articles of clothing before heading to the bathroom connected to her bedroom.

She shut the door behind her of course, going through a more rushed version of her nightly routine. Washing her face, brushing her teeth, the works. Once changed, wearing a white tank top and pink fleece boxers and leaving the discarded clothes on the floor for a future lacey to pick up, she rummaged through her bathroom cabinet. Finding the pain killers she was looking for, Lacey filled up an empty glass she kept on the sink counter. She exited the bathroom with both in hand and placed them on the bedside table next to where her guest was.

“Got ya some pain killers in case you need them when you wake up.”

She wasn’t really sure if monsters got hangovers the same as humans, but it seemed like a reasonable assumption.

Having said that, she did a once-through of her apartment. Making sure all the lights were off, doubling back to lock the front door after almost forgetting, before returning to the bedroom. She left the bedroom door ajar slightly and finally flicked the light for the bedroom off. Despite knowing how to navigate her bedroom in the dark by heart, the faint glow of Crim’s soul made it easier. Like a soft beacon that guided her back.

Crawling onto the bed from the other side, she got comfortable beneath the blankets. Lacey pulled them up to her shoulders, following that up by scooting a bit closer to the skeleton. She offered her usual smile while she stretched out her arms as an invitation. In truth, her apartment always ran a bit cold so she didn’t mind the extra company. Not that she ever needed an excuse when it came to cuddling, or most physical types of affection.

“Alright, c’mere ya big lug,” she said with a quiet laugh, affection clear in her tone. “Cuddle session is back on so get your nonexistent butt over here.”

               That comment about his soul was first met with defiance within his mind, before the meaning of it actually settled into his skull. Tinting the cheeks of said skull a light crimson. Eyelights avidly not watching her as she went to get her clothes, and soon after disappeared into the bathroom. Leaving him alone in the room for a moment with his thoughts.                   While said thoughts certainly weren’t coherent, they still rattled around in his skull like a buzzing bee. Threatening to sting him later on when he was clear enough to fully understand them. For now, they remained as unanswered questions and curiosities. What had he just done? What did she even think of him now? What was going to happen now? A sigh passed through pointed teeth, as he turned over-- deciding to busy himself with getting under the covers while he waited. Soul continuing to glow warmly, due to the words she’d said just a moment ago about it.                   ‘Its your soul.’                   She’d said it like... it mattered to her. Like he mattered to her. Yes, he was a dumbass and she’d already said a lot of nice things that did the same-- but something about it being in regards to his soul... Well, it actually got through the drunken haze. Made him feel warm, despite her presence being gone for the moment. 

                 Hearing the click of the bathroom door opening, he turned to lay on his back so he could look at her. His curiosity regarding the cup of water she had, as well as something else in her hand was immediately sated-- Ah, right. This was definitely going to hurt in the morning. Though, its not like it was anything he wasn’t used to. Hell, he’d experienced the pain of death a thousand times over. A simple hangover was nothing. Nonetheless, he muttered a brief ‘thanks’ before she disappeared into the rest of her apartment.                     Turning back to his side, he allowed eyesockets to fall half-closed-- once again, letting his thoughts briefly take him. Perhaps... perhaps he could be happy this time. Perhaps Frisk would keep her promise. Perhaps, perhaps he was just being a unreasonable drunk. No, no that wasn’t quite it... It was fear that drove him. It always had been. Fear of death, fear of loss, fear of the unknown-- was... was he letting fear rule him? ... Yes.                     It had been about then, that he heard her come back into the room. Red eyelights following her dimly as she got into the bed, and offered her arms to him. Expression more tired than anything, but also had a slightly sad tone to it. While intoxicated like this, thoughts of nerves or reservations weren’t present-- so there was no hesitation as he got closer to her. A content sigh falling from pointed teeth, as he nuzzled just below her chin. Hands wrapping around her securely, but loosely so sleep would be possible without going slack. 

                “... Thank ya. Fer all dis.” Despite his intoxicated state, he knew by the time he was sober-- he wouldn’t be able to thank her properly. For this. For putting up with him. For dragging his sorry ass off the sidewalk. Though most of all just... caring. “Like I said, m’an idiot that doesn’t know how ta talk bout things. let alone know how ta thank people properly. Yer... ya give a damn. N’that’s... something m’not used ta, but something I appreciate a lot... So... thanks.” His voice gradually drifted off as he spoke, sockets slowly falling closed, as that rolling sound in his throat soon started up again-- signaling that he’d quickly fallen asleep. 

                When Crim awoke, it was with a pounding headache.                     There was a grumble that rumbled in his throat along with another noise-- as he drew closer to the warmth that he’d been sleeping against. He really didn’t want to wake up just yet. For once, he’d actually been sleeping really well-- Apart from the hangover, of course. Not to mention, sleep would also help him escape that pain-- if only for a little while.                     Though, he went as stiff as a board when he realized the thing he was cuddling up to was breathing. Eyesockets that had shot open looked at who it was-- and it had been then, that everything came flooding back to him. 

                   His mind was overwhelmed for a few moments, unable to move, unable to breath-- (thank goodness he didn’t really need to), and unable to look away. His consciousness just a constant stream of continuous ‘Oh shiT--’                     Panic started to creep into his soul, and soon caused a tremble to work its way through his bones. It was unlike the breakdown he’s had last night. It was worse. Wide eyesockets frozen on her, like he were witnessing something soul-shatteringly terrifying. Slowly, his gaze fell, unfocused, as a hand went to cover his teeth. Trying to get a hold on himself before she woke up-- he had to.                    He was scared. More than he had been in his entire life. Even crying wasn’t feasible right now. He hadn’t been lying when he said she scared him, after all.