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: Dream has concerns about his son's love life.
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The sun shined overhead, casting beams of light across the lands. The vast blue skies it inhabited were clear, barring one exception (not being the many black and white avians patiently circling their prey). Enormous, fluffy grey clouds laid beyond the horizon with a promise to bring turbulent rains later in the day.
Alongside the present scent of approaching storms, salty/fishy odors signature to the beach hung in the air.
The old wooden pier connected to the tan sandy stretch below was bustling: humans/monsters walking or chatting together, children laughing and playing, and seagull - the beach's sandwich mercenaries - flocking to wherever food awaited. No matter if discarded or still clutched in the hands of an unsuspecting victim.
Colorful booths offering various things (food, games, and prizes) lined the structure's edges, drawing more customers to the tourist spot.
Dream hummed, basking in the pleasant emotions emanating from the surrounding beachgoers. It was practically a buffet of positivity. If his brother approached here, he'd probably shink away in disgust. Thus, making it the perfect place for their family vacation. Or brief weekend off since he and Ink (but primarily just himself) couldn't be away from their jobs for too long.
Who knew what Blue had managed to accomplish without someone to keep his shenanigans at bay, especially because Ink brilliantly decided to leave the little chaos-maker in charge during their absence. The Council might very well already be in a state of disarray. And not even a full day since their departure passed yet.
However, more immediate problems were on his mind.
The yellow-clad skeleton lightly shifted on the wooden bench beneath him. Beach attire (tank top, shorts, sunglasses, and sandals) replaced his usual grab, helping him blend into the normal crowd.
Beside him sat Palette. A lovestruck expression rested on his son's face while he watched Goth (whom he asked to join them on their trip).
"Isn't he adorable?" The young artist released a soft chuckle, smiling at his friend. Boyfriend? No one knew whether or not the couple had made it official.
Yellow eyelights followed his gaze, settling on a white-cloaked monster half-submerged in a distant trash can as they rummaged inside.
"Of course, Pal." The Guardian of Positivity agreed dishonestly. All the while, thinking, Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. And he is definitely beholding-
A daring lizard monster - or an ignorant one - slowly began to walk by the occupied trash can. Goth promptly pulled himself out of it to shriek at the passerby, causing them to skirt around the feral crow-skeleton and dash away. Afterward, the death god-in-training plunged right back into the discarded plastics and papers on his quest for half-eaten foods.
Something. Palette is beholding something, and I'm still not quite sure how I feel about it.
Dream quietly added, "It would be nice if he wasn't digging through the trash, though."
"But Dad does that all the time too? He's doing it right now." Palette's smile twisted into a confused frown; one of his hands lifted, pointing to the right.
"Wait- what?!" He turned toward the direction indicated. And low and behold, there Ink was exploring a nearby trash can much like Goth. "Ink, get your face out of that trash can this instant!"
"No- wait, I almost have it. Yes!" The protector arose from the metallic bin, clutching a surprisingly unblemished chocolate doughnut. A triumphant grin spread across his face.
"No. Put that back where it belongs." The Guardian of Positivity chided.
Greedy hands drew the pastry closer, similarly to how a goblin would clutch its prize close to its chest- the exact opposite of what the yellow-clad skeleton wanted. Ink then narrowed his eye sockets and released a sharp, airy sound.
Dream scowled in return, demanding, "Did you just hiss at me?"
Instead of answering, Ink did something that honestly should have been expected. He made a guttural clicking noise before scurrying away like a demon crab-walking with the doughnut clutched between his teeth, which received more than a few horrified expressions from the people standing along the pier. In fact, one of those very disturbed individuals (a humble hot dog salesman) cried a near-silent "Oh, god. Not another one! Why do we still allow weird gremlin skeletons near the food stalls?!"
An exasperated puff brushed past Dream's teeth.
"Can you wait here while I go get-" He turned to face his son, only to be met with an empty seat. "Palette?"
His eyelights frantically began scanning the area, eventually landing on the young artist who had apparently decided to join Goth and now had his hands deep in trash.
A light tap on the guardian's shoulder distracted him right before he stood up to retrieve the pair.
A man dressed in a guard's uniform stood behind him, mouth drawn in a thin line and eyes narrowed. In a clear voice, he said, "Sir, can you please tell your family to stay out of the garbage receptacles? The subsequent littering is bad for the environment, and they are scaring other civilians."
