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: The shenanigans that occur inside Ink's household.
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Ink sat in his kitchen, humming a gentle tune while swinging his legs back and forth. A savory scent filled the room. Steak, cheesy broccoli, boiled asparagus, broiled honey-coated carrots- Simply smelling the wondrous bounty made his stomach growl. Since he was ban from cooking (for various reasons that may or may not have involved copious amounts of fire), Dream decided to make them both lunch. And the artist had never been more grateful for the other's friendship. The lunch smelled so tempting he physically kept himself from snagging a morsel from each of the dishes.
Also, it didn't seem like the wisest idea to sneak food at the moment. The yellow-clad guardian held a sharp kitchen knife and viciously chopped carrots on a cutting board. Each time the blade fell, it moved with precision and accuracy no one would expect from the passive, friendly skeleton. Ink had no doubt that if Dream perfected his skill outside of cooking, he would be very lethal in combat. Enough to put Dust and Killer's knife-wielding skills to shame. However, given the aggressive approach, he passively wondered if Blue's cooking style rubbed off on Dream.
Well, it doesn't matter as long as he can cook something edible. Ink pouted a little. Though, it will never be quite as amazing as my vanilla yogurt french fries and cinnamon steak.
To pass the time (and distract himself from the not yet ready meal), the artist pulled his phone out. The screen lit up with a single button push. His eyes drifted to a series of recently sent texts from a cheery, blue-wearing skeleton. Curious, Ink clicked on the most recent one. He read it. Then read it a second time as his eye sockets narrowed, and a frown formed on his face. A steady hand snaked over to the abandoned knife and grabbed it.
Dream noticed this and said in a scolding tone, "Ink, what are you doing? You remember you are not allowed to hold knives because of the incident, right?"
"Heh, yeah. I remember- That was a fun day. I have never seen Edge so scared of someone before." Ink chuckled at the memory. "Back on topic, I just need this right now."
"Why?" The Guardian of Positivity questioned while shooting him an incredulous look.
With all seriousness, Ink slowly raised the knife and put on his 'serious face.' "Because we need to go protect Blue's honor."
"Alright." Dream's face became equally as serious; he walked over to the sink and opened its doors, bending over to rummage through its contents. While shifting things around, a generic horror movie scream sounded. The artist jumped slightly at the noise. Thereafter, his yellow-clad friend came back up, holding a shiny, sharp axe. He stated, while casually resting the blunt side of the blade on his shoulder, "Let's go."
Ink frowned at the weapon. "Dream... Why was that under my sink, and why was there a scream?"
The skeleton in question looked at him and smiled sweetly. In a soft, friendly tone, he replied, "Answer one: Reasons. Answer two: Nothing you can prove." Somehow the gentleness in the way Dream held himself made the words far more menacing. More so than if they were said by an evil megalomaniac.
A barely audible "And they say Nightmare is the evil twin" could be heard as the axe-wielding guardian made his way to the front door. After turning off the stove, of course.
