A collection of inane nonsense (ranging from Error being reincarnated as Palette to Dust finding a new love for the color pink) circling around the many AUs and Multiverses of the Undertale world. Some stories will be connected; Others will be rando...
Summary: Ink and Dream participate in a traditional tree spirit divorce.
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(Warning: This story contains heavily implied cannibalism, death, swearing, violence, fear, and blood/dust.)
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A content sigh left Nightmare's jaws.
He lied, back to the ground and arms crossed behind his skull, on the edge of a grassy field bordered by a lush oak forest. The afternoon sun overhead provided ample light for some well-deserved photosynthesis.
Cross, Killer, Horror, and Dust were not too far away, resting in their own relaxed positions- also taking in the sun, as per the Guardian of Negativity's insistence.
It was perfect. Just him, his boys, the warmth spreading throughout his goo-laden bones, and a rare yet very needed peace-
An enraged roar echoed beyond the trees, "I'm so sick of your shit!"
And there went the coveted peace he so greatly desired.
The (comparatively) young skeletons he watched over jumped up and shifted into defensive stances at the sound. Each instantly alert, keeping a keen eye out for danger.
Nightmare followed suit, albeit more slowly.
Then, without warning, Ink came bursting out the nearby treeline, appearance expressing more emotion than Nightmare had ever seen: clothes disheveled, jaws clenched, teeth turned down, eye sockets wide and damp around the bottom edges, and eyelights quickly changing shape but remaining a steady deep purple.
Fear, if the dark lord remembered the hue's meaning correctly.
"Nope, nope, nope, nope, nope!" Ink chanted, sprinting past the five skeletons.
A familiar yellow blur sped into the artist, tackling him across the grass before pinning him to the ground and raising a gloved fist.
"Stop making this more difficult than it needs to be!" Dream snarled. "Now that the ritual has started, we only have until the sun's setting hours to break our union, and I won't have you ruining it with your squirming and begging."
Nightmare blinked, and a mild sense of surprise budded in his soul.
The Guardian of Negativity had honestly expected this to happen far sooner. Though, he couldn't fault his brother for waiting until Palette was old enough to not require both his parents before ending things with Ink.
"Dreamboat, Dreamy, please, if this about the dirty sock in the milk jug, I'm-" A loud crack silenced the plea, followed by several crunches as Dream began to finish what he started.
His boys' faces morphed in horror.
"What the fuck?!" Killer gasped.
At the same time, Dust and Cross shouted "Shit!" and "Oh god, we have to stop him," respectively.
Nightmare immediately took action to prevent their interruption; his tendrils shot out and wrapped around their waists, pulling them to his side.
Best keep them out of the way, he thought. After all, this was not the type of rite to stand between unless someone wished to shorten their life span. And the dark lord would much prefer his saplings live for as long as reasonably possible.
However, the four Sanses seemed to feel differently about the matter, for they squirmed against his hold while Cross cried, "What are you doing? We have to help!"
Nightmare gently ran a hand along the top of the warrior's skull.
"Shh," He soothed, giving the four a comforting squeeze with his tendrils. "Just let nature take its course."
A thunderous, nigh wet crunch split the air.
"I... suddenly don't like nature." Killer nervously stated, unable to remove his horrified gaze from the gruesome scene playing out before them.
After many crunching noises (and much shivering and occasional whimpering on his boys' part), Dream stood. Only a smear of red fluid, a fine grey powder, and shredded clothes laid where he had previously been situated.
Slowly, his skull turned to face them. Pinprick, yellow eyelights quickly zeroing in on Nightmare.
He licked the blood and dust from his teeth and proceeded to flash his signature grin, greeting cheerily, "Hello, brother!"
The skeletons in the dark guardian's grasp flinched away; snuggled closer to him in a bout of misplaced fear.
Dust voiced what they all seemed to be thinking as they warily eyed Dream, who merely met their fright with a briefly confused look and a warm smile. "Can we all agree to never be within a hundred meters of him?"
