#wink writes

[winkette]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Dinner And A Show

New Fic I'm working on.

Join Killer as he stakes out a new universe and is promptly confused. Includes possible 4th wall shenanigans.

[winkette]

Alien Pt2

This is the last of this idea drabble that I have written. There is a loose idea of the rest of the story, mostly revolving around Reader, but little to know actual plot. Enjoy~

---

“WHAT A STUPID JOKE.”

“That would make things more interesting.”

“C’mon Classic, it ain’t that fuckin’ funny.”

Stretch snorts into his arms, which forces another round of laughter from you before you can finally open your eyes again.

“IF YOU ARE ONLY WASTING OUR TIME WITH PATHETIC JOKES, I WILL CLUB ALL OF YOU ON THE HEAD.”

You’re wiping away tears, giggling again when the fancy-dress Sans alternate beside you chuckles at your state. Poor Stretch and Sans are so tired, they’re delirious in their laughter and it takes much longer for them to settle down. G finally clears the tea from his non-existant lungs and Green has cleaned up the tea G spat out in his laughter.

“ALIENS WOULD BE AN INTERESTING THING TO CONSIDER. WOULD ALSO EXPLAIN WHY COMET AND I ARE HERE.”

“DO YOU NOT WORK ON THE MACHINE WITH PAPS AND THE OTHERS?” Fancy-Blue asks from behind his equally fancy brother. 

The two skeletons in yellow and dark blue each shake their heads. The Sans-alternate speaks up further, “me and neb know rocket science, not quantum physics. Even our engineering knowledge is limited to how to run a rocket versus building machines from scratch.”

“YES. ENGINEERING WOULD FALL UNDER OUR ALPHYS’ EXPERTISE. UNFORTUNATE THAT SHE IS NOT HERE.”

The edgy Blue slams both hands onto the table top to garner attention. “SILENCE YOU IDIOTS! NONE OF THAT EXPLAINS WHY THERE IS A HUMAN HERE.” He turns a fierce glare to Sans at the head of the table. “IT WAS YOU WHO DEMANDED EVERYONE FOLLOW YOUR POINTLESS RULES, ONE OF WHICH WAS TO CLEARLY TO AVOID HUMANS.”

Sans sighs heavily. You get the feeling he’s heard this alternate Blue argue a lot. Sans and Stretch share a look, probably trying to figure out where to start, so you jump in instead.

“I was pulled through the machine as well. I arrived with Blue, Stretch, Red, and Edge.” Four of the only six skeletons you knew. Aside from G and Green, who you met earlier that day.

Everyone else perks up and studies you. “No kiddin’?” Fancy-Sans asks. 

“Ya don’t look any different from humans ‘round here.” Fancy-Stretch comments. 

Fancy-Blue looks uncertain. “HAVE YOU RUN INTO THIS WORLD’S VERSION OF YOU?” 

“WHY WOULD A HUMAN BE PULLED THROUGH THE MACHINE?” Edgy-Blue scoffs.

“WE NEVER FIGURED THAT OUT.” Edge answers.

“Ya.” Red points you out to everyone else. “Ya fuckin’ vanished after two days.”

It sounds like he’s accusing you of something and the glare he’s leveled you with matches the glare from Edge. Several other gazes turn suspicious at the statement. 

You just nod. “Yes. It’s a good thing I did too.” You explained, but honed in on Red when you continued, “I was hospitalized for three months.”

“WHAT?!” Blue and Papyrus shout at the same time. Their surprised shock seems to unnerve many of the others in the room and when you turn to reassure your friends, you’re pulled part-way from the chair as Papyrus hugs you. 

“What are you talking about, hon?”

“Why didn’t you call us, kid?”

“ARE YOU ALRIGHT?!”

You chuckle in Papyrus’ arms and pat them to ask for him to release you. He does, gently lowering you back into the chair but stands close behind you when you face the table again. 

“Relax guys, I’m fine now. Obviously.” You wave a hand over yourself to show how very alive you currently were. “That was two years ago and things have settled down quite a bit.”

“But what happened? Why were you in the hospital?” Stretch worries.

“AND WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL US SOONER!” Blue argues.

You raise both hands in a mix of defense and apology. “I’m sorry guys, but I didn’t want to tell anyone at the time or until recently.” You look to Sans. “Remember how, when we all showed up, everyone had various headaches or reactions to the travel?” Sans and Stretch both nod their heads. 

“Ya,” Red interjects, “you were fuckin’ unconscious half the time.”

“I know.” You state. “I got scared and called a taxi at two in the morning to take me to a hospital since everyone was too busy trying to figure things out at first.” You give a pointed look to Sans and Papyrus, who flinch and blanch at the look. “I understand why you didn’t want anyone out of the house at the time, but I was severely struggling with my health.”

Sans and Paps look guilty at your explanation and Stretch and Blue share a worried look. Before anyone else speaks, you continue. 

“I listened to the doctors and nurses while I was under their care. Didn’t recognize half of what they were saying but I made sure to remember as much as I could. They had to transfer me twice to larger hospitals because my body was struggling so much to adapt to this place.” Now you give Sans and Papyrus forgiving glances. “Know that I don’t blame you guys for anything, okay? But I almost died several times.”

That makes Blue and Papyrus give worried cries and they each move around the table to gather you in a hug between them. With arms pinned to your sides, you try to return their hugs as best you could. 

“WHY THE HELL WOULD YOU ALMOST DIE? ARE HUMANS SO WEAK TO NEARLY DUST FROM A SIMPLE HEADACHE?!” Edge looks like he takes personal offense to this knowledge. 

“She has stated earlier that it was the magical energy of this world that was attacking her body.” Green tries to explain while you’re still held hostage in Blue and Papyrus’ arms. 

“She came into Sans’ office earlier and said that her body was changed by coming here, so much so, that she doesn’t think she can be returned home.”

There were a few gasps around the room, including from Blue and Papyrus who immediately hug you tighter, winding you. 

“WHAT THE HELL IS THIS? ARE YOU SAYING THAT WE COULD BE STUCK IN THIS PATHETIC WORLD BECAUSE YOU BROUGHT US HERE?!” Edgy-Blue shouts, presumably, at Sans. 

“We didn’t notice any problems by coming here.” Fancy-Stretch states.

“AND CERTAINLY NO ACHES AND PAINS FROM THE SUDDEN TRAVEL.” Fancy-Blue adds. 

“Guys, please!” You shout from your containment. The excitable skeletons release you back into the chair but stay close. Blue takes hold of one of your hands. “Calm down guys. Let me explain further.” You take a breath and look to the pair in the back with stars and constellations on their clothes. They stand straighter under your attention but watch you with worry in their sockets. “I asked Sans if there was anyone with advanced knowledge of Space. Is that you two?”

They both nod, the Papyrus adding on, “YES! IN OUR WORLD, WE LIVE IN SPACE!”

You give a noise of interest. “Really? Cool. We will need to talk more then to get some details, but, “ You open the thin file folder you had brought with you and push the collection of your notes around the table. There’s notes of various things you studied in your time away from the skeletons that brought you here, but you make sure the Monsters from Space get your notes on the galaxy and solar system that you took.

“These are a few of the notes I took over the two years. Each one based on a question I had or something I took notice of.” You slide some of your health notes to Green when you see they peak his interest. “One thing I learned is,” You point to the Galaxy notes in the Space-Sans’ hands, “My world is from a different Galaxy. An entirely different planet.”

That gets surprised gasps, shocked shouts, disbelief, and various murmured conversations start up at once. You smile at the chaos you created, but point to your Galaxy notes again and shout.

“This world has, what I believe to be, my home galaxy marked as M-37. Nicknamed, Milky-Way.” You chuckle at that, “Which is funny, because that’s what we called our Galaxy too. We even nicknamed this Galaxy, Andromeda. Funny how that works out, huh?”

“SO YOU’RE NOT AN ALTERNATE SANS OR PAPYRUS?” Fancy-Blue shouts in awe.

“Nope.”

Space-Sans chuckles deeply. “ ‘Who brought the human?’ “, he repeats. He barks out a laugh and then starts laughing harder as the joke you had made finally sets in anew. Several other skeletons also start laughing at the new context of the joke.

-----

Reader is the Alien. Dun dun duuuunnnn

The starting idea was basically; The MilkyWay is a galaxy without magic and Andromeda is a galaxy with magic.

Part 1 Here

[winkette]

Little ficlet that’s been bouncing in my brain lately.  TW for thoughts of murder?

Dust had been left out of the mission for the day, his allotted ‘rest’ time. A thing that only came into play when everyone was on rotated guard shifts watching over the human. Spying for signs of espionage or prying for details of who could have sent her to Nightmare’s castle of all places. A search that was fruitless after she was released from the dungeons to begin with. 

The pale skeleton lifted a shoulder high, rolled it and followed the roll through his neck to the other shoulder. Whatever the boss’s reasons, an extra day off was certainly relaxing. With the Star Squad bringing their Council members to the fights over the worlds, Error and Nightmare had to adapt their individual plans; often opting for shorter, faster techniques. An unfortunate side effect to the adjustments was the increase of small missions. Tactics of get-in-get-out drilled into each of the darker Sans’ skulls. 

Even on his ‘rest’ day, Dust could still hear the plans and drills and tactics running through his head like a bad mantra. Tilting his head to the side and pausing; he heard something else too.

His goal had been the kitchen for a glass of sweet tea the human had made yesterday and Dust knew the human liked to help prep food for Axe’s larger meals, so it wasn’t a surprise to hear you in there. The beat of some low song was only a small surprise considering the fact that you usually kept it low to avoid attention.

Rounding the corner of the dining area, he caught sight of you sliding from one side of the kitchen area to another, the music beginning to thump from the top two cat ear-shaped speakers on top of your head. He had caught you at the end of one song just as another began. Something with a high, echoing background tone followed by a gravelly woman’s voice saying something about what her mother and father said. 

Music never caught Dust’s attention unless he was on a mission in one of the Multiverses many Dancetale variants, where the song could broadcast a Monster’s fighting style. Monster’s Soul Songs rarely had words to them though, and those that did usually spoke in some form of lyric that wasn’t worth parsing through. Humans, however, could adapt a song to their Souls or their Souls to a song. 

Changing the meaning, or ‘feel’, of a song to suit their needs.

Your Soul was always audible to the Monsters in the castle. It was quite annoying, but Dust is learning that it ‘sings’ louder when you’re focused on music. Easy to ignore when he’s not in the same room as you, but now he’s noticing that that ‘singing’ gets louder if you sing.

“I was told I was nothing; I was told that I was pure.” Your voice doesn’t match the vocalist’s gravelly tone but your Soul certainly does. As you sing the lyrics, your Soul sings it’s own story that you feel when you connect to this song in particular. 

Your voice sings the lyrics, harmonizing rather well if Dust were ever asked. The story your Soul sang was more interesting than the words though. A pain? A trust? A dependency you relied on that wasn’t healthy. A weak and fragile state, susceptible to outside influences and those meant to protect you failed. Failed in glorious fashion if Dust heard your Soul’s pained wail right. Bitterness and hate. Mistrust and caution sown into your Core from these failures. From continued failures. 

His breath caught in his non-existent throat when the song reached its peak. Your voice and Soul started screaming in anger and right there, on the chorus, your Soul gave a little wobble. A little unstable noise Dust had heard many times since his arrival at this dark castle. 

Mania. 

The song drew out an unstable moment in your Soul? What was your life like before appearing here, of all places, to have destabilized your mental state enough to affect your Soul? Why had he not heard it before? You had the potential to fall apart; to become as unstable as Dust or Killer or Axe on his worst days. The potential. Hidden behind all that useless...sweet...kindness and patience. 

If Dust pulled you into an encounter to see your Soul directly, would it be broken like his? Or misshapen like Axe’s and Killer’s? Scarred. Cracked. Weak. Hollow. Fragile…

‘Yes Brother! Imagine How Easy It Would Be. You Could Break It In Your Hands!’

He had broken Souls with his bare hands before.

‘But A Human’s Soul, Brother? Certainly Not One So Loud? I Wonder If It Is Already Broken. A Delightful Crack To Dig Your Claws Into And Pull Apart Slowly. Imagine It, Sans!’

He could see it. Human Souls were always interesting to shatter. The restricted magic, the stronger intent, the way they would settle into his claws so nicely and you would S C R E A M. 

….Oh. You did scream. 

Dust raised his LV flaring eyelights from your chest to see you looking at him from the center of the kitchen. Eyes wide (fear?), mouth agape (shock?), hands clasped at your chest (begging?) He felt his grin twitch in manic glee. Would you beg him? Beg him to spare you? To-

“When did you get here? Is everyone back already?” A worried furrow settles into your brow as you place the cutting board you had washed back on the counter. “How long were you standing there?” 

The embarrassed flush to your face and disgruntled pout threw Dust’s roaring LoVe for a loop. What were you pouting about?

“Dust?”

He only hummed back, face neutral as if his own Soul wasn’t roaring in his skull. Eyelights steady and half-lidded as if his sight wasn’t tinged in red. 

Sparing a glance at the oven timer, you drop the drying rag and close the distance between the two of you. As you entered the dining room, a sense of warning started to flare up in the back of your mind and you gave pause five feet from the skeleton. 

The palest monster of the castle seemed to have appeared from nowhere while you cleaned the kitchen. Not a surprise given that everyone but you could teleport, but the guys were supposed to be on a few missions today. Axe had left you a list of vegetables to chop and a broth to put together while he was away and Cross pat your head as he usually did on his way out. So why was Dust here?

A quick look over his faded clothing didn’t show evidence of battles or exertion. Not a mark or excess wrinkle aside from his slouched posture stood out to you. His face looked...mostly fine. Were his eyes brighter? Or was the dining room dim?

A glance at the room told you the lights were off aside from the kitchen. Not even the hall held lights brighter than the dim candles mimicking the outside sunlight. 

“Are you alright? You don’t seem so good.” Dust was making you feel weary. It reminded you of the time Killer had a LV flare and tricked you into a spar-turned-attempted-murder. Only..quieter somehow. 

The memory pulled you into a more defensive mindset. Was Dust having a LV flare of his own? Would he challenge you to a Fight too? The thought made you strangely sad. “Dusty?” you coo. “Did you need a snack or something? Should I call one of the others?” If he was having a flare, offering food probably wouldn’t save you from being a target, but you still wanted to offer a way to help.

There was no use putting yourself in danger and pretending to be able to offer yourself as a spar partner. You weren’t near his level, let alone anyone else’s. The only thing you had was food and cuddles, but Cross and Axe both said not to get too close to someone if they have a LV flare or some other traumatic episode. So food was your only offer.

Gently you offer, “How about I get you some sweet tea and lemon cookies?” To motion to your offer, you pull out one of the dining room chairs and wave a hand over it. Dust’s eyelights look to the chair then back at you. All you offer is a soft smile, despite how worried for him you felt, then turn to the kitchen for the promised snacks. 

For a brief moment, the hairs on the back of your neck stand up and a wave of goosebumps travels your skin, but you only realize them once they clear. Did Dusty..?

You make it to the fridge, pull the tea and get to work plating a serving of honey lemon cookies. When you turn to bring his snack, you’re surprised to see him actually sitting at the table. Usually he would have run off somewhere else and you wouldn’t see him again until some meeting or group meal. 

He’s silent when you place the cup and plate. To keep close for a moment longer, you grab two napkins from the pile nearby and set them beside his plate. “There we are. I hope you like the tea.” You give a smile and turn away again.

Not a step later, there are four sharp claws and a thumb at your wrist. The pointed finger tips were poised to tear into the flesh and separate the tendons just above your carpals. When you stop at the touch, still light but just as threatening, and turn to face Dust, the claws twitch as if they yearn to pierce your skin before softening into a lighter grip. 

“Dusty?” You look for any signs that he might need some help. 

He is still quiet and when he gives a gentle tug to your arm, it’s almost like a quiet plea. His fingers aren’t fully wrapped around your wrist, leaving you enough capability to simply walk out of his grip, but affection and patience twist in your gut and reach out to the monster before you.

“What’s wrong, hun?” It’s a whisper laced with more concern than you wanted but when you turn to face him, the light grip guides you closer. It’s when he releases your wrist to gently hover his hand over your back that you realize he wants you to sit in his lap. He’s still staring straight ahead without looking at you, but you get the feeling he’s stuck in some type of emotional limbo. Between thoughts. 

You turn and carefully lower yourself to his lap. He’s left more than enough room between himself and the table that it should have clued you in to what he may have wanted sooner. Once settled, you look to him, trying to catch his gaze but fail. He doesn’t move more than curling one arm around your hips and sliding two fingers into your pants pocket; a light lock to keep you close. 

The silence reigns and you want to say something but Dusty is one of the quieter skeletons, so it shouldn’t be a surprise that he wouldn’t talk when he was fighting some internal battle. Raising one hand to rest on his right cheek, you gently rub under his eye and settle your head to his shoulder. After a moment you lower your hand to rest on his other shoulder and simply give him the comfort he silently asked for. 

You close your eyes to Dust’s silent shock as he slowly takes the first of the lemon cookies and takes a bite. Enjoying the way the love in them echoes the undeserved affection you presented to Dust like a tidal wave smoothing stone. His Soul shivers against your intent and emotions but soon lets it soothe him like no LV grinding ever could. 

Tears pebble his sockets, but he enjoys his snack and your company with their weight blurring his vision.

[winke77e]

A look at the work-in-progress of ‘Error’. These are just the chapters I have roughed out. There are far more to come.

[winke77e]

Error Ch13

I'll be uploading Christmas 13 of 'Error' tomorrow evening!

[winke77e]

Little time?

Got a new job recently and it’s awesome! but it literally takes up most of my waking day. 

7 hours sleep, 9 hours @ work, roughly 1.5 hours in commute, 1.5 hours cooking/food

That’s roughly 5 hours for everything else.....bills, life, writing, drawing, prep for tomorrow....

huh, listing things out like that makes it seem like I actually have more time than I thought. Maybe I’m not using it right.... hm.

Anyway, regarding writing specifically: 

Error is still in-progress. As I’ve mentioned in the first 2 chapters, I usually don’t write day-in-the-life stuff so I am really struggling with it. 

Also, I am writing 2+ other stories in the background that won’t upload until they’re better laid out. 

With work taking up such a huge chunk of time I have started taking paper to write out the chapters when I am able to find time, then I sort through them and type them at home. 

Also, I will be uploading Error here as well, maybe with title pictures