clover is the type of person that would probably either work with Chara or against them depending on the circumstances. But I don’t ever see Clover and ShiftChara getting together
Not sure if you know this but I have already made too posts about Clover and SS!Chara. One is textbox dialogue about Chara 'judging' Clover and the other is just me talking about why they wouldn't work in a relationship.
yes i am still obsessed with this war au, so you guys will have another meal for it. sequel to this because i can't NOT write about dust somehow.
opening the year with mtt in war au smh this is what transformers obsession did to a freak 😔😔😔
the air in the base is thick with tension and unreleased post-battle adrenaline. dust paces around in his office, his hands tucked inside his pockets, twitching with a barely restrained urge to blast this whole place to smithereens. his eyelights flicker, his magic dying to be freed from its mortal cage.
a mere three feet away from him stands chara, who is shuffling their feet in nervousness but masks it with a defiant tilt of their chin. the sight only makes dust madder, though he can’t pinpoint the exact reason why. red is casually leaning against the doorway, shooing away any nosy soul who passes by.
after a moment of tense silence, dust whips his head towards chara, his eyes blazing. “you don’t touch him!” he snaps, his voice echoing in the room. “i already told you that multiple times! what part of that do you not understand?!”
chara flinches at the sudden reprimand, but stands their ground, their fists clasped behind their back. “i was trying to help you! he was sneaking up on you from behind, so i thought-”
“well, clearly you didn’t!” dust growls, stepping closer to his subordinate. he might be shorter than them, but the murderous intent in his crackling magic is pretty clear. “do you think i’m so weak i can’t protect myself? is that what you think of me? i don’t need your help!”
chara’s earlier defiance starts to falter as their face crumbles. “i- i just- i wanted to protect you...” their voice turns timid, small. “isn’t that what we’re supposed to do? protect each other?”
dust’s eyes narrow as he glares at chara. “that’s not your job. you don’t know what you’re doing out there. and your clear disregard for my orders almost got you killed – or worse, others.” his voice drops to almost a whisper as he leans into chara’s space, making them jerk back. “don’t ever touch him again, do you understand?”
“commander,” red interrupts, his voice cutting through the tension. he steps forward, subtly positioning himself between dust and chara. “the kid’s still new to this. this is their third mission after all. just go easy on them.”
dust glares at red. “don’t coddle them. this isn’t a game.”
“eh, they’ll learn.” red shrugs, but his tone is still carefully measured so as not to poke the anthill. “yelling at them won’t get us anywhere. they made a mistake, but haven’t everyone? that’s what rookies do, and they’ll grow. come on, they got the lesson – they won’t poach your kills again.” he looks at chara. “right, kiddo?”
the human looks back at red, then dust, tears of hurt and frustration brimming in their eyes. “i’m sorry… i thought i was doing the right thing… i won’t do it again, i promise…”
the next moment is blanketed with silence except for the hiccupped sobs of chara, who can’t help but hide their puffy face in their arms as they try to conduct themself in front of the two older soldiers. dust clenches his fist in his pockets, his shoulders hunched as guilt gnaws at the edges of his bubbling anger. he abruptly turns away from his subordinates, his back on them. “get out. both of you,” he says, his voice tight. “now.”
chara makes a confused noise as they peek from behind their tear-soaked sleeve. they look at red, hesitant and lost. red nods silently, reaching up to pat chara’s head. “you heard him, kiddo. let’s give him some space.”
as red guides chara out of the room and the door closes behind them, the silence in the office becomes oppressive. dust’s shoulders sag as the weight of his actions comes crashing on him like a tsunami. he shakily leans against his desk, knocking over a stack of papers, his head cradled in his hands.
you almost killed them, the voice of his dead brother chides him. you almost killed your subordinate.
dust can’t help but agree. he almost lost his control just then and there. he almost hurt chara, almost hurt a kid. the image of chara’s frightened teary eyes flashes in his mind, and his soul twists with shame.
his hands clasps together as he fiddles with the ring underneath his glove – the promise ring he has for himself. seeing killer again has brought up some unwanted memories, most of all the promises he made to both killer and horror. to survive. to meet each other again at the end of this seemingly endless war.
if nightmare has any say about it, it will never end.
but don’t worry, you are nightmare’s lieutenant, aren’t you? all his best soldiers get the best things.
they’ll be yours, by whatever means you want.
you’ll end their suffering by your hands.
memories of killer surges to the surface of his mind. the chaotic battlefield, killer’s tar-streaked, the way he moved like a ghost towards him. the way he looked at dust like nothing else in the world mattered. he looked exactly like the day he deserted nightmare’s army – as if he had never left at all.
dust hates killer for it. but he hates himself more for still caring, and even more for becoming someone who hurt the people depending on him. he dreads the day he has to face horror again – he can feel the inevitability, because this is just such a good cosmic joke to spring upon him. he wonders if horror will be even less forgiving than killer, giving him a strike in his messed-up soul rather than the measly cut in the cheek that killer inflicted upon him.
the door creaks open, jolting dust out of his spiralling. red steps in, closing the door behind him. “they’re shaken, but they’ll be fine,” he says quietly, then comes closer to dust. “you okay?”
dust doesn’t look at red, instead fixing his eyes on his hands where his ring sits in secret under his glove. “i almost killed them, red.”
“yeah, i was there,” red says, taking a place next to dust and offering him a cigarette. “you didn’t though, so that should count for something.”
dust laughs, a bitter sound, and takes the peace offering. “does it? i’m one step away from thinking of transferring them to somewhere else. clearly, i can’t be trusted around them.”
“you’re angry, as you have the right to.” red shrugs, lighting dust’s cigarette for him, his face so close to dust’s that the hooded skeleton can feel the lingering gaze on his nervously chewing mouth. “but i don’t think you’re all that mad at the kid. you’re not the monster you think you are.”
dust glances at red, his voice guarded. “you don’t know that.”
red’s gaze softens, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "i wouldn’t follow you if i didn’t."
the words hang in the air. and for a moment, dust allows himself to believe them. he touches his ring under the glove, finding himself more grounded than before.
"i’ll talk to them," he says finally, his voice quiet. "when i’m ready."
red nods, pushing off the desk. "they’ll come around. kid looks up to you, you know? they want to prove themselves to you. give them the chance."
as red leaves the room, dust closes his eyes and releases a puff of smoke, his shoulders relaxing as his jitters stop crawling up his arms. the war definitely isn’t going to get easier. but for now, he has to hold onto the promises he’s made – both to himself and the people in his life. and one day, he has to make his decision on where he stands in this mess. but that day, thankfully, doesn’t have to be today.
