Sanscest oneshots (TEMP DISCONTINUED)

SugarMelon: Out of Order? (Fluff/angst)

A/N: I got bored so I drew the ship pic for this one

⚠️This story contains themes of self-harm and/or suicidal thoughts or references. Proceed with caution and at your own risk⚠️

This night was cold in Sugars cold kingdom. Some kingdom this was. He could feel himself fade away, falling out into nothing where he could do nothing also feel the same. He wouldn't find peace, he'd faced that fact already. All this? All this pathetic attitude, his tendencies and his life as he knew it, which was not a very good one was all a result of being lonely. 
He couldn't stop himself from falling. Sometimes it's hard to face reality. 
End it? Possibly. It'd take a lot to kill himself or he should just continue the cycle of torture he put himself in. 

The sad skeleton hauled himself out of bed only to sit on its quilted side and mindlessly stare at the ceiling. His mind felt blank. Like it was empty, nothing came to it as he glanced around the room. It all looked the same. An old desk, a bookcase of old dusty books he hadn't touched in years, the old computer. He could see himself, his younger self, reading and working happily as ever at those places, the room brightened a bit in its presence. It was a bleak moment later his vision sharpened from those blurry, kind, meagre sights he had earlier. The colours faded, giving way to a dark rise of dull complexions, seeming like a whole noir scene. All monotonous, a nothingness. Sugar felt sedated but not calm. He had to do it. 

Dragging his feet on the carpet, down the corridor. It was cold. The kind of cold that sent shivers down one's spine. He made a trek to the bathroom, then to the kitchen. His own footsteps kept him awake but he was so tired... back and forth he'd sway, knowing he was acting foolish. Yeah, this was stupid. Spending all his nights alone waiting on people who'd never call. The only ones he wanted by his side gone as soon as they came. A safe haven becomes inflicting pain in the dark of early morning stars. On himself. 
Opening the fridge door for a bit of light, Sugar hunched over the sink, rolling up his sleeve to reveal his bruised and scarred wrists. Having run out of room on his carpals, he'd moved the razor to his lower radius, making the cut to watch the ruby red trickle down his hand to drip in the sink. 
Tranquil.
That's what he wanted. 
Wasn't it?

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Sugar struggled to get up the next morning. He looked like a mess. It was painfully obvious he was tired due to the massive bags under his eyes. He could barely stay awake last night, failing to fall asleep too. He stayed there, over that sink just cutting... cutting... cutting all night. The emotion he had shown towards it, none, scared him. Was he supposed to be this out of touch with the world? Was he really going to let his head wander its own path that led to destructive habits that could... no would end up killing him? That sounded nice actually, to have peace. Go into nothing and stay in nothing for as long as eternity held up. 
Sugar looked like absolute shit. Tired, lethargic, out of it. Hell, he didn't even clean up the blood still left on his bones so some stains were visible. He wanted to go clean himself up, yet, his ass found himself wandering down the main street incredibly slow not even 45 minutes after waking up. 
The people on the street, their mouths were moving but Sugar heard no sound. The birds seemed silent too as if him stepping outside silenced all nature, paying him a silent tribute. Or maybe their silence was a bad omen. Impending death. He wouldn't complain. 
The sky was clear but his mind cloudy. 

Sugar had the hood up, hiding his face with his hands in his pockets, hiding his cuts, the internal conflict he knew nothing would solve. There could be something out there that could help him. Whatever it was he could never drag himself toward it in time. He'd be put out of order. Executed. 
His soul would fade, what little magic he had within it going out along with the sputtering flames of life's finest treasures. 
Where would he go? Here or there, life or the afterlife. 
He decided to stay outside, leaning against a wall of a cafe while the people within eyed him suspiciously. Enemy. Predator. 

Another skeleton, however, bounded down the street, a shit-eating grin on his face. Strangely happy, although he was lonely too. He made it his goal to make everyone smile, no matter how gloomy they were. This skeleton saw Sugar, thinking immediately. "Heya! I'm Melon! How's about a smile!" He chirped, skipping up to the other man. Sugar lifted his head heavy with wear; tired eyes looking down at Melon. He was wearing a jacket decorated like a watermelon, the fur around the hood that was a crimson red a few certain spots laced with black to appear like watermelon seeds. The base colour of the garment was lettuce green almost, a stripe streaking its midsection in the same vibrant red that was on his hood, adorned in the same way. Melon wore shorts and a neat pair of sneakers, both cleaned within an inch of their fabric. Trim and happy, he looked like one of those characters in books or video games, usually too happy-go-lucky to be of Sugars liking, the kind of man who'd cuddle their puppy before leaving for the day. It reminded Sugar of a sweet summer day, one with a nice picnic. False memory of the kind of thing he hadn't had in years.

"Come on then! Where's a smile?!" He cried, bouncing up and down in an excited manner. Sugar sighed. This wasn't worth his time. Moreover, though he were told to, he wouldn't smile. His heart wasn't in it. 
"Hey? Are you alright? What's your name?" Melon asked after a moment of silence, slight worry in his voice. 
"I wish I was kid, I really do" The taller choked out. He lifted an arm to pat Melons head, not paying attention to the bloodstains still on his wrists. "The name's Sugar" Out of the corner of his eye, Melon saw the stains. Immediately Sugars wrist was grabbed and peered at. No sooner had Sugar the time to register a thing than he was hugged. "Oh, you poor thing! No wonder you weren't smiling!" 
"So you understand... don't you?" He responded, his voice no further above a whisper. 
"Well not completely but I could only think what you could have gone through"
"Your answer.... is a lot..." Sugars reply was slow, slurred but that was only because he was drifting off in the smallers embrace. Melon only smiled, he'd be taken care of now. 

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Melon reached home safely, managing to tuck Sugar into his bed. He didn't know where he came from, or how he got to where he was but Melon would help in any way he could. A decent start would be to dress his wounds and check him over. He did exactly that, the activity itself not taking very long. Once all the wounds were sorted, Melon left Sugar in bed, walking down to the lounge to watch Tv. 
Hours passed by like minutes. Melon was easily entertained  (My hand smells like nachos) and his attention span was long. After all, he was Melon, what more could be expected? But even the most excitable of skeletons got tired sometimes. 

He drifted off minutes later. 

He got maybe 3 hours or so of sleep ere a loud clatter in the kitchen woke him up. It was dark by now and hard to see but he heard a muffled "fuck" from the room across. He sat in silence, waiting a moment. Was it Sugar or another person? An intruder!? 
Minutes later his voice broke the cool silence. "Sugar?" 

No reply. 

"Sugar? Is that you in there?" Melon queried again, standing to tiptoe into the kitchen. Although dark, he spied white on the floor. The bandages. He looked around again, seeing Sugar

.

and a flash of silver. It was a knife, Sugar was holding a knife and taking the blade across his wrist until he heard Melons voice. Then he froze. 

"Oh Sugar..." Melon whispered, approaching him taking the knife in his off-hand when his hand held onto the tallers. He placed it in the sink, wiping away the blood from his wrist with his sleeve. "You don't have to do this" 
"I do Melon-" Sugar was shaking, uneasy, anxious, everything he wasn't meant to be. 
"No you don't, doing this... hurting yourself. It's not worth it."
"I'm not worth it"
"Sugar you are worth it. You just haven't met the right person to bring out that worth yet. You have to know you have a lot more in you than just this. I know it'll be hard to break a habit you've already started and it'll take work Sugar. I'm here to help guide you through it. If you stay with me, I can help you. We can work through it together." 
Sugars expression softened a bit. "I'll stay... to work for you."
"Work for yourself." Melon corrected.  "You're going to work for yourself" 

"I'll work for both of us"