(Tsds takes place 400 years after Underverse, so Ink has had plenty of time to lose his remaining marbles)
(Unfortunately Ink, Error, Fresh, Dream, and anyone else outside of the bad sanses are not dateable and act as antagonists to Nightmare’s troupe, but enjoy the game’s “villain”’s design!!!)
Very excited (and eager to let go of), my first ever illustration. I shall call it bigger the figure eepy! If I hold onto this any longer, I will lose even more of my hair.
Thank you @jeidin for sitting down and teaching me how to shade and render digitally!!! 🩷 Thank you immensely to Doe, Walle, Steve and the rest of the dev discord server for inspiring me to make and finish this! I hope this inspires you in return!
TSDS Flint and Vile dancing and shit because the game dev asked for it. this is a fanfic btw not art or anything
You walked behind the pair, following behind them into the cool air of the ballroom, located near the centralities of the castle. It's heart and soul were in these rooms. All you know was that Vile had invited Flint to a dance, and you were instructed to change the song, but not tell Vile you were doing so.
You smiled softly as you watched Vile instruct Flint on the moves, setting down a record player near you and glaring at you as you leaned over it.
Phalanges pressed into Flint's upper back, guiding him through hesitant steps while they danced. Vile had invited Flint to learn to dance the foxtrot specifically it seemed, though he did allow you to watch nearby. It was supposedly simple, and yet Flint had still found a way to trip over every step.
His legs were unsteady, hands shaking gently while Vile continued to dance with him, voice guiding him through every step. Step - step - step, repeated over and over as a soft classical song the Flint recognized but just couldn't name. Until Vile had him, back pressed to the wall as the danced hand in hand.
"Now, we have a promenade. It's just a few strokes in the same direction as our hands."
Flint chuckled, eyelights locking on Vile's cervical vertebrae while he squeezed the other's hand back.
"Strokes, huh? Didn't know you were into that."
Vile's cheeks flushed a soft lavender hue, not commenting on Flint's innuendo as he continued to dance with the other. Vile - admittedly - had a crush on Flint. The way he spoke, his unnerving amount of confidence, the way he carried himself with pride. It made his soul race against his chest. So he may or may not have set them up to dance, just to be in closer proximity.
The foxtrot was the easiest dance he had learned, Flint now even having gotten the hang of it as he pulled Vile into a dip. Their hands clasped together while they stepped back in forth in the echoing quiet of the ballroom. Shoes stepping in a simple but recognizable pattern as the pair danced over and over again, pulling in and out of each other's arms at every dip. Spinning each other in turns at every other minute.
It was a testing game to Flint. A test of self control. How long could he go before subtly changing the dance, the pace, the playing grounds? How long until he gave the signal? His arm crept underneath Flint's own, suddenly changing the pace of the dance as he pulled their bodies closer, and he winked at you.
That was it - your sign. Pulling out a record you had hidden under your shirt, you quickly turned off the classical music and replaced it with the one lent to you by Flint, pressing the needle to the vinyl and turning it on. The music was faster paced. A tango.
Flint gave a subtle smirk, before near aggressively pulling Vile into a faster dance. The different steps and rhythm made Vile's fear spike, even as he was tossed into another dance. A closer one, something far more intimate then what he had expected himself.
"FLINT! What- what the hell?!" Vile's voice cracked as he was tossed into a far more extreme dip, spine angling back to accommodate the angle.
Flint's free hand found its way onto Vile's waist as he boxed the smaller in with his knee, pulling him into every step himself. Even as Vile stumbled and tripped, Flint's movements kept the dance alive and somewhat accurate. You watched in awe.
Ribs pressed together, hands clutched in a death grip. Vile's breathing quickened by a fraction as their tango continued. Then, just as quickly as the dance had begun... something stopped it. Bodies pressed tight and hands still bound as though they were still dancing.
A hard clink of teeth as their teeth pressed together, in what you could only assume was how skeletons kissed. Vile's entire skull was flushed a nice shade of purple as his eyesockets finally closed, leaning into Flint's body. Flint seemed pleased by the reaction, leaning in himself before they pulled away.
Even while packing up and talking with each other. About them, about how they feel, about their relationship - Vile still found time to glare at you. A small price to pay for being the greatest wingman in the castle.
