Unrequited LOVE

Chapter 1

In hindsight, Nightmare really should have stayed away from Dream. The glowing bastard was as sharp as the arrows he shot and always seemed to have a plan, no matter how cruel or devastating.

Gone was the brother Nightmare had once looked up to.

He hadn't even done anything (this time), but the star sanses, along with Classic and Underfell Sans, stormed his castle. It wasn't long before Killer and Dust were captured, followed by Horror and Cross.

"Give up, brother!" Dream yelled. "Just come quietly and we will-"

"Kill me? I don't think so," he responded, readying his tentacles in preparation for a fight. "Come at me, you shiny bastard."

Satisfaction was an odd look on Dream's face, which was why it sent a chill down his spine when he saw it. "I... I thought you would say that."

"What the hell are you-"

Dream snapped his phalanges and Blue stepped into the light, dragging the hunched form of Killer behind him. "DREAM, ARE YOU SURE WE SHOULD-"

Nightmare stiffened. He wouldn't...

"Blue, we talked about this," the golden skeleton said firmly. "Just do it."

Blue looked nervous, but did as he was told. Summoning a single, jagged bone, he aimed it at Killer's exposed SOUL.

"L e t  h i m  g-"

"If you come, we will." Dream said authoritatively. "Nobody has to dust, Nightmare. It's your choice."

Nightmare took a step forward, but stopped when Blue angled the bone closer.

I can't let him...

He couldn't let Killer die. Never. It was his job, as a king, to protect his subjects.

His friends.

"Well, brother?" Dream crossed his arms across his chest; he had won.

Protect him.

Nightmare's tentacles dissolved into his back and he raised his hands in surrender. "Let him go. I surrender."

And so, a king was captured.

And a kingdom fell.

***

You didn't quite know what to feel when Ink, the self-proclaimed protector of the AUs, came knocking on your doorstep to tell you the multiverse was safe again.

"You mean to tell me that you and the other sanses broke into someone's home and took them hostage?" You crossed your arms across your chest, unimpressed.

"You know that's not true," Ink mimicked your posture with an indignant huff. "Come on, (Y/n), aren't you happy they're gone?"

You'd heard about the so-called "bad sanses", a group of murderers led by Dream's ex-brother, Nightmare, but had never met them in person. You doubted they even knew the neutral void existed.

"What's going to happen to them? I doubt Dream would let you dust anyone."

"We're going to rehabilitate them," Ink said proudly. "Help them live normal, murder-free lives."

Somehow, you doubted that. "Oh."

Your wings twitched when he patted your shoulder. "What's wrong, (Y/n)?"

"Nothing," you said. "It was nice talking, Ink, but duty calls."

He didn't look convinced. "Well, I'm sure Dream-"

You transwarped away before he could finish the sentence. Ink was nice, but there was something in his general aura that worried you. You'd also caught him drinking paint more than once, which was a cause for concern.

Relax. You forced your shoulders to un-tense, letting your wings droop down. Being a protector was hard.

And so, you began your daily patrol, meticulously carding through the time folds for any tears or abrasions. There were none, thankfully, but you double-checked everything.

Just to be sure.

Ripples of white surrounded you. Your fingers threaded through the delicate folds one last time before pushing them together.

Everything's safe... for now.

***

The journey back to your house was laughably easy. You vaguely remembered a time where the skill of transwarping was but a mere dream.

It was laughable how much time had passed since your 'birth', though it more resembled waking up kidnapped than an actual birth.

Your first memories consisted of waking up in the neutral void, lost and alone. Even now, you weren't quite sure who (or what) you had been before.

I'll never know, I guess.

The first Sans you'd met upon waking up was none other than Error. He had rescued you from yourself, taken you in, and taught you the ways of a protector.

Who could have known. He was the destroyer of AUs, after all.

Ink really didn't give him enough credit.

Your house was small; a quaint shack housing a kitchen, living room, bathroom, and two bedrooms. It was nestled in one of the neutral-void's many pockets. Unlike the anti-void, the neutral-void wasn't home to AUs, but pockets.

Pockets were small worlds - picture stills, if you will. Inside each one lived a single scene, whether it be the backdrop of a forest or a frozen city.

The only problem was that nothing lived in the pockets. While the silence was nice, you began visiting the anti-void a lot more to simply explore all the AUs it had to offer.

You opened the door and stepped inside the yellowish-white house. The main room was painted a neutral gray - not too light, not too dark - with variously-colored accents.

With a sigh, you removed your boots and set them aside. You were tempted to remove your heavy outerwear, a pale green jacket with holes cut in the back, but decided not to.

Too much work.

Due to the nature of your being (and the fact that you had ten-foot-long wings - feathered, no less - attached to your mid-back), taking said jacket off was simply not in the cards.

'Classic' would have been proud.

You chuckled at the memory of the short, pun-loving skeleton; the original Sans. Out of all the Sanses you knew, he was by far your favorite (except Blueberry, Error, and Dream). Whether it be that he seemed to be the only Sans with nothing to hide, he was also kind, a trait you admired.

The other Sanses were nice, but you had your reservations. (Especially concerning Underfell!Sans and Lustale!Sans...)

The living room was pristine as always and you sank onto the mahogany couch with a sigh, wings arching over the edge to brush the carpeted-floor.

There was a TV in the room, but it rarely worked. Even when it did, the only thing it seemed to play was "Mettaton's Gyftmas Special," a show you'd seen enough off for at least two lifetimes.

You tipped your head back and stared at the ceiling. A strand of (h/c) hair settled on your lip, but you blew it away.

Maybe I should get a haircut. You lifted a few strands of hair and huffed. It was silly; since when did inter-dimensional guardians get their hair cut?

...Blue does owe me a favor...