Anon who commented on most of the AO3 chapters here: if possible. Can we request POV of the other skeles or the other characters? If so, may I request Geno pov from chapter 6 on your Ding fic! I’m also going to assign myself the 💀 or the🧣anon nickname for well. Talking with you about Reaper and Geno in the comments section. So it is easy to identity myself for you amongst the other anons so you don’t presume all of them are me. XD
alr!!! ill stop assuming every anon is u LOLOL .. arghghgh ur literally such a smarty pants i would’ve never thought of writing this!! anyways ofc i can do chapters from charas povs!! im glad i could write this as i haven’t really gotten to write much of geno!! and heres sprinkle sprinkle of reaper because the two are the bestest ever i love them. headcannons & more of their dynamic soon!!!
“chapter 6 of ding! from geno's pov.”
c/w; you’ll be a little confused if you haven’t read ding! otherwise, its fine.
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Geno sat in the stillness of Reaper’s universe, his bones relaxed for what felt like the first time in ages. A warm cup of peppermint tea, its steam lazily drifting up in the air, sat comfortably in his hands. The aroma was earthy and calming, something he didn’t think he'd ever truly appreciate until now. It was a moment of peace he hadn’t known he craved, something that had seemed so far out of reach for so long.
The universe around him was quiet, filled only with the soft hum of existence. The void stretched endlessly, a place where time didn’t move quite the same, and nothing was urgent. Geno leaned back, his skull tilted slightly upward as he closed his eyes, savoring the simple act of not needing to worry about anything. For once, there was no battle to prepare for, no new timeline to navigate. It was a rare, fragile peace.
He took another sip of his tea, the warmth sinking deep into his bones. For all the complexity and chaos that had marked his journey, this... was nice. He hadn’t realized how much he needed this, a quiet day with no expectations.
The quiet was interrupted only by the occasional shuffle of Reaper nearby, a figure who, despite his seemingly cold demeanor, had become more than just an acquaintance. Reaper’s presence had been a constant through Geno’s darker moments. There was something about Reaper, a way he moved through life—or unlife—with such quiet confidence that Geno couldn't help but gravitate toward it.
For all the time they’d spent together, it was hard to pinpoint when their connection had deepened. Maybe it was when Reaper first showed up and inserted himself into Geno’s life. Maybe it was when they had sat like this before, sharing silence and tea, just... being. It didn’t matter. What mattered was that, in this vast, seemingly endless universe, Reaper had become a constant in a way no one else had.
Geno glanced over at him now, catching the faint glimmer of something in his friend’s gaze. Reaper was texting the Underchat. but Geno knew him well enough to recognize it. The group chat had been suspiciously quiet all day—a sign Geno had learned to interpret as the calm before the inevitable chaos. Sure enough, the moment Reaper settled on the couch beside him with his laptop, the notifications started rolling in again like clockwork. Geno opened the chat on his phone, already bracing for the nonsense.
Reaper was grinning at his screen, fingers flying over his keyboard, clearly up to no good. Geno sighed, leaning back against the cushions, his phone balanced lazily in one hand.
“You’re playing Uno again, aren’t you?”
Reaper didn’t even bother looking up. “Of course. And I’m winning, obviously.”
“Winning,” Geno repeated flatly. “That what you call it when you’re glitching the deck?”
Reaper’s grin grew wider, more infuriating. “Creative solutions, Geno. Nothing in the rules against them.”
He glanced over at Reaper, who was laughing to himself, clearly enjoying the chaos he was stirring up. "You’re enjoying this way too much."
"Of course I am," Reaper said with a shrug. "It's not about the winning, you know. It’s about the reactions."
Geno sighed. "You sound like Ink."
Reaper gasped in mock offense, clutching his chest as if Geno had mortally wounded him. "How dare you compare me to him! Ink's chaos is messy. Mine? Mine is art." Geno thought it was quite ironic Reaper compared himself towards art more than Ink, a literal artist and creator—who’s entire existence revolves around that fact.
"Yeah, yeah, sure," Geno muttered, though he couldn’t help the small smirk tugging at his mouth. It was hard not to find Reaper’s antics at least mildly amusing, even when they were as infuriating as this.
Geno rolled his eyes, scrolling through the chat to catch up on the unfolding drama. Sure enough, Error was already losing it.
GlitchBitch: YOU GLITCHED THE DECK, I SAW IT!! THAT DRAW FOUR WASN’T EVEN IN THE GAME UNTIL YOU ADDED IT!!
Geno’s head tilted slightly. “You added cards to the deck? That’s... bold, even for you.”
“Bold?” Reaper repeated, as though tasting the word. “I prefer innovative.”
“More like insufferable,” Geno muttered, his tone dry. He watched as Error continued to spiral, Blue tried to calm everyone down, and the newbie—Protégé—typed in with what was clearly genuine confusion:
SLEEPRLUVR: wait how do you cheat in uno?? isn’t it all luck and strategy?
Geno blinked. Oh no.
Beside him, Reaper cackled softly, his fingers dancing across the keyboard. Geno didn’t even need to see the screen to know his next message would be dripping with smugness.
ISTHATTHEGRIMREAPER: ah, protégé! it’s good to see you’re as naïve as always. 🙏
Geno sighed loudly, leveling an unimpressed look at Reaper. “Really? You’re laying it on that thick?”
Reaper glanced over, his expression all too pleased. “What? I’m just addressing them by name. The name you gave them.”
“You’re addressing them like you’re in a bad soap opera,” Geno shot back. “You do realize they’re already out of their depth in this chat, right? When I was new to the group chat I nearly had a meltdown. You’re gonna give them an existential crisis.”
“Relax, Geno,” Reaper said with a dismissive wave. “I’m just being charming. No harm in that.”
Geno didn’t respond, opting instead to keep scrolling through the chaos. Error was ranting, Blue was pleading for everyone to calm down, and Protégé was clearly trying to keep up. Then came the message that made Geno pause mid-scroll.
ISTHATTHEGRIMREAPER: 😘 for you, I’ll consider it.
Geno’s screen dimmed as he stared at the message. For a long moment, his expression didn’t change, but internally, his thoughts were a whirlwind of confusion and disbelief. Slowly, he turned his head toward Reaper, who was leaning back on the couch, his grin practically radiating smugness.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Geno said finally.
“What?” Reaper asked, all faux-innocence.
“You just—” Geno gestured at the screen. “You flirted with them.”
“It’s harmless fun,” Reaper replied, his tone light. “Why so serious, Geno?”
Geno’s jaw tightened briefly before he let out a long, slow sigh. “Do you realize what you just did? They’re probably overthinking that message right now.”
“Oh, come on,” Reaper said, a laugh bubbling under his words. “They’re fine.”
“They’re spiraling,” Geno corrected, turning his phone to show Reaper the flurry of messages Protégé had started typing and deleting. Protégé hadn’t said anything after that, but he could see the three typing bubbles appear and disappear. “See? This is what I’m talking about. You can’t just throw stuff like that out there.”
Reaper waved him off. “If anything, I’m helping them adapt. Survival of the fittest, Geno. They’ll thank me later.”
Geno rubbed his temples, the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips despite himself. “You’re ridiculous.”
“You’re entertained,” Reaper shot back, eyes twinkling.
Geno couldn’t deny that. For all Reaper’s chaos, there was something almost... comforting about it. Predictable, in its own twisted way. Still, he couldn’t let him off the hook completely.
Opening the chat again, Geno typed out a single message.
alivebutimdead: wth
Reaper chuckled at the screen, clearly unbothered. “That’s all you’ve got to say?”
“It’s all that needs to be said,” Geno replied, his tone dry. He leaned back against the cushions, watching the chaos unfold as Reaper continued to fan the flames.
A soft hum of amusement escaped him as he caught sight of Protégé’s latest message—an obviously confused, probably oblivious response to Reaper’s earlier flirting. He sighed, shaking his head. “You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?”
Reaper didn’t even pretend to deny it. “Of course. You should be too, Geno. Life’s too short to take everything so seriously.”
“Someone has to be the adult in this room,” Geno muttered, though there was no real heat behind his words.
Reaper laughed, leaning back with his arms crossed. “And you wear that title so well.”
Geno shook his head, exasperated but oddly fond. For all his frustration, he knew Reaper didn’t mean any harm—it was just his nature to stir the pot. Still, Geno made a mental note to keep an eye on Protégé. Reaper’s chaos could be a lot to handle, especially for someone new.
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EXTRA SNIPPET
Geno sat at the small, dimly lit desk in his room, a mug of lukewarm tea sitting untouched to his right. The group chat notifications had gone silent—Reaper was busy dragging Error and Ink into whatever chaos he’d concocted, and Geno, well, he wasn’t in the mood for it. Too many personalities in one room was overwhelming at the best of times, and tonight, he just wasn’t up for it.
But sitting alone left him with the faint, nagging itch of boredom. He rested his chin in his hand, glaring at the scattered cards on the desk in front of him.
"Uno," he muttered under his breath, the word sounding strange and foreign. He picked up the little rulebook he’d printed off from some online source, flipping through the pages for the fourth time. “Simple game,” Reaper had called it. “No-brainer,” he’d said.
Geno squinted at the rules, his sockets narrowing. “How is this simple?”
The bolded letters on the page mocked him. Match colors or numbers, use special action cards to disrupt your opponents, and remember to call ‘Uno’ when you’re down to one card.
“Sure,” Geno muttered. “Sounds easy enough. Except—” He gestured at the cards spread out before him in frustration. “What is a wild draw four? And why are there so many skip cards? Why do I skip myself?”
The room was silent, save for the soft ticking of a clock on the wall. Geno picked up a random stack of cards and shuffled them awkwardly. It wasn’t smooth, but it worked well enough. He laid them out again, trying to simulate a game.
“Okay. If I have a green three and a blue three... does that mean I can stack them? Or is that against the rules?” He frowned, flipping back to the rulebook. “Oh. I can’t. But... why not? It makes sense to me.”
He leaned back in his chair, staring at the pile of cards like they’d personally offended him. His sockets drooped slightly in resignation. “This is stupid,” he mumbled.
Still, his curiosity gnawed at him. Reaper always made Uno seem so effortless, like a game of chess he was five moves ahead in. Geno couldn’t help but wonder what it was like to understand the strategy—or to use it as shamelessly as Reaper did.
He picked up a wild card and held it up to the dim light of his desk lamp. “Change the color to anything you want. That’s great and all, but what’s stopping someone from just picking whatever’s best for them? No wonder Error loses his mind when Reaper plays.”
The thought of Reaper’s smug grin made Geno’s scowl deepen. He imagined Reaper leaning over his shoulder now, laughing at his pathetic attempt to piece together the game. “Creative solutions, huh? What would your ‘creative solution’ be for this?” he muttered under his breath.
Sighing, he gathered the cards and shuffled them again, this time slightly more smoothly. He laid them out into two fake “hands,” playing against an imaginary opponent.
“Okay,” he muttered to himself, placing a red eight down. “Red eight. If I had a yellow eight, I could play it, right? But... let’s say I don’t. Do I draw? And if I draw, do I—ugh.” He rubbed at his temple, glaring at the card like it might suddenly start explaining itself.
This was hopeless.
Geno groaned, slumping forward until his forehead rested against the desk. “Why am I even doing this?” he mumbled. His voice echoed faintly in the quiet room.
The group chat pinged, drawing his attention. Reaching for his phone, he saw a new message from Reaper.
ISTHATTHEGRIMREAPER: having fun all by yourself, geno? ;P
Geno scoffed. “He always knows, doesn’t he?”
He tapped out a quick reply.
alivebutimdead: better than getting dragged into your nonsense.
ISTHATTHEGRIMREAPER: ouch, gen. if you’re lonely, just say so.
alivebutimdead: i’m fine. go bother error.
The typing indicator appeared, then disappeared, then reappeared again. Geno could almost see Reaper’s smirk through the screen.
ISTHATTHEGRIMREAPER: tell me you’re not trying to learn uno by yourself.
Geno froze. He glanced at the cards spread out on the desk, then back at his phone.
alivebutimdead: ...what if i am?
It didn’t take long for Reaper’s reply.
ISTHATTHEGRIMREAPER: 😭😭😭 geno, you wonderful idiot. wait for me, i’ll teach you.
ISTHATTHEGRIMREAPER: you never read uno instructions lol, everyone has different rules.
Geno rolled his eyes, but his expression softened slightly. Despite his frustration with the game—and with Reaper’s incessant teasing—there was something oddly comforting about knowing he wasn’t entirely alone in this. How was he supposed to know everyone had different rules? What was the point of the instructions then… Whatever.
Setting his phone down, he leaned back in his chair, a small, wry smile tugging at his lips. “Guess I’ll have to survive your version of a lesson,” he muttered to himself.
For now, though, the cards could wait.