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Flash Fics for Suckyusername

Summary:

A short collection of flash fics/oneshots written for Suckyusername!

Includes:

Chapter 1 - Errink (D&D AU)
Chapter 2 - Horrormare (Mer + Royalty AU)
Chapter 3 - Afterdeath + FatalDeath (Mer + Betrothal AU)
Chapter 4 - Crosscentric (Witcher AU)
Chapter 5 - Star Sans Poly (StreetRacing AU)

Notes:

I spy with my little eye a cutie patootie who gets a lil gift! :D
Fr tho, I have been loving your comments! Makes me happy when I that funny little profile pic! ^^

This one has been a time coming my dear, please enjoy! ^^

Chapter 1: When That One NPC That's Been Following Your Party Turns Out to be a Key Character in the Plot

Summary:

Prompt Idea: (D&D!AU) Dream and his party are on a quest to defeat the Demon King! (Though the 'defeat' part is something that Dream is trying to work his way around). However, a member of their party isn't all he appears to be...

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Dream’s quest as the Hero had been straightforward: gather a party, confront his twin brother - who was the current Demon King, which, dramatic much? - and somehow break their cursed fate of killing each other.

Things were going... mostly well. All things considering.

Dream had gathered his party the way most - if not all - heroes of the past had done.

Blue, the paladin of a modest port-town, was rescued from a heinous plot among the nobility that had conspired to have him and his righteous heart silenced.

Lust, the bawdy prostitute who actually turned out to be the illegitimate child of a sorcerer, pledged to follow their cause after Dream had slain the beast responsible for stealing away his village's children.

Crop - who is a much more talented cleric than he is a monk - was practically pushed into their fold by his family, seeing an opportunity for their lion-hearted son to make a name for himself and broaden his world.

Red, the mercenary with a heart of - somewhat tarnished - gold, joined after Dream bested him in a tavern brawl... that he himself started.

Classic, a wizard of some repute - apparently - had wound up tangled up with their venture after Nightmare's armies had raided his city and enslaved his loved ones. Which, you would think ought to make someone a little less... lazy.

And Ink...

Well, the bard had simply been thrown into the same cell as them when they were framed for a murder. The guards had mistakenly taken Ink as part of their merry band of make-believers, (their words, not Dream's).

Ink never really left after that, trailing along with them and regaling the party with increasingly outlandish tales of his "past adventures," and "boyfriend" who they all agreed must've been some kind of made-up prince charming.

The bard's tales grew wilder with each campfire: "That time I drank the Dwarf King under the table!" or "When me and my boyfriend defeated a Grand Lich with only our fists!" or Lust's personal favorite, "My boyfriend doesn't leave home much since we have like- over two hundred kids! But you'll be able to meet him once he gets his brothers to babysit!"

But for all of Ink's flights of fancy, he never folded under pressure, and when push came to shove, he always found a way to pull through.

So the party humored him. Blue patted his shoulder comfortingly with every grand tale. Lust would cuddle the poor guy close after especially trying days. Classic would actually make an effort not to snore through every tale.

...Deep down, Dream knew it was wrong. To drag Ink along like this. Knowing fully well a normal guy like him wouldn't stand a chance once they made it to Nightmare's lands...

...But he still said nothing, even as they crossed the borders- the jagged pass into Nightmare’s domain. Ink strummed his lute, oblivious to the way the land had eyes upon them.

“-and that’s how my boyfriend tamed a hydra!” Ink finished, grinning despite how stiff everyone else was around him.

Blue adjusted his gauntlets nervously. “Ink, Maybe Save The Stories For Camp? We’re In Enemy Territor-”

A crack echoed through the canyon.

And the party only had seconds to prepare themselves before Nightmare's forces were upon them.

 


 

Now, it had all led up to this.

The land trembled as Nightmare’s claws tightened around Ink’s throat. "Surrender, Hero," the Demon King sneered, spitting Dream's title like poison, "or your pet bard dies screaming."

Dream should've known he'd regret his selfishness.

He watched helplessly as NIghtmare's tendrils were curved into sickles, sharp and menacing as they curled towards their friend in clear threat. It made Dream's magic prickle in urgency- ready to beg, to bargain, to give up on his crusade if it meant sparing an innocent-

Except Ink laughed.

A bright, careless sound that made Nightmare’s grip falter.

"Rude," Ink wheezed, kicking his legs like this was some tavern scuffle. "My boyfriend hates it when people manhandle me."

"Oh no," Red groused somewhere behind Dream, already dreading Ink's painful slaughter for his idiocy.

Nightmare quirked a bone brow, clearly thrown off by his captive's lack of fear, only to huff mockingly. "Oh? And, where exactly is this boyfriend of yours?"

"rIgHt hERe, dIpsHIt."

Before anybody could react, a fist connected with Nightmare’s jaw with a crack that echoed across the battlefield.

Dream’s party watched in stunned silence as Nightmare - The Eternal Shadow, the Demon of the Moon - went sprawling into the dirt, tendrils flailing in belated shock from the blow.

Standing over him, crackling with barely-contained fury, was another skeleton monster in a tattered black and gold cloak. His eyelights were mismatched with unholy energy, curved horns, black as his bones, framed his skull, and-

"Errorrrr!" Ink cheered, as if greeting a lover returning with the eggs and bread from the market. As if to sell the image, he flew into the arms of the newcomer before pulling them down into a chaste yet romantic kiss.

The Stars collectively choked.

He said Error...

As in, the previous Demon King, Error.

The Raving Catastrophe, the Demon of the End Times.

The one who’d supposedly died in the final clash with the last Hero two centuries ago.

. . . .

"Oh my GODS!" Lust was the first to break out of his shock, squatting down on his heels with a flushed, sweaty expression. "I- I've been sharing a bed with the previous Hero...!~ <3"

Red and Classic stared at each other, seeming to have a conversation with their eyelights.

Blue dropped his sword. "...We’ve Been Traveling With A Legend This Whole Time?!"

Dream finally broke. "Ink!"

"Huh...?" Ink blinked dumbly, still dangling from Error’s neck. "What? What's wrong?"

"Why didn't you tell us?!"

The previous hero just stared at him. Unblinking. Uncomprehending. Until-

"What are you talking about? I've been telling you guys nothing but stories about me and Ruru?"

. . . .

Gods damnit. He was right.

Notes:

Additional Context:

• This is a world where every two centuries, a new Hero and Demon King is born to enact the cycle over again: monsters attack, hero rises, slays the demon king (maybe/maybe not dying in the process) or vice versa. Gives the winning side two decades of prosperity before the cycle renews and the next pair are born.
• Something something- Fate is the final boss for the campaign???
• But yeah, basically Ink and Error are the old, retired men yaoi 😂
• Dream and Nightmare are gonna get dragged around this entire fucking AU 💀

Chapter 2: Maybe There's Sense in Tradition After All

Summary:

Prompt Idea: (Mer!AU Royal!AU) Nightmare is the prince of his tribe, and as per tradition, now that he is of age, those who wish to prove their mettle can rise up the ranks by winning his hand through their sacred, courtship traditions.

It's nothing but nonsense to him. Until- well, the champion actually showed his face.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Nightmare flicked a tentacle in disgust as another suitor presented a speared marlin- too tough, too flashy. The crowd oohed at the glittering scales, but his stomach churned at the idea of taking a bite.

He wanted fat, grease, the crack of tiny, flimsy bones, calcium carbonate and chitin between his teeth. A natural scavenger like him had no need for showy hunts; big game with more muscular meat was less than appealing, but Nightmare had already upset his mother enough after rejecting the first twenty in a row.

Begrudgingly, he'd reluctantly accepted a few gifts just to keep her from accusing him of being too fussy- and also to stave off his hunger, as he was forbidden from feeding himself during this period to avoid filling up.

Now he regretted it, feeling the tuna, grouper, and snappers roiling uncomfortably in his belly. His digestion - optimized for breaking down softer tissues that were rich in proteins - was having trouble accepting the cartilaginous fishes over the oily snails and crustaceans he preferred.

"Your suitors will provide for you," his mother had reassured him prior.

"You'll know when you find the one, when they make sure to foresee your needs."

Of course... Except, not a single one of these dizzards seemed to have even the most basic understanding of what octopuses preferred in their diets. They just saw him as a high-born womb to nurse their eggs. A trophy to add to their menagerie of past triumphs.

It was miserable.

"Next," he sighed, ignoring the insulted squawk of the parrotfish mer as he was led away by the guards.

Dream had told him that he was simply being pessimistic when he objected to taking part in the mating season this year. Told Nightmare that everything will turn out well in the end...

But of course Dream would think that. He was the pretty twin. He had no shortage of admirers who actually fancied him as a person. Nightmare was simply the second-best, the easier prize if one wanted to stroke their ego by lying with a prince for the season.

What suitor was really here for him...? Honestly, he should just forsake the consequences and just-

A commotion built up from the back of the crowd, swiping the octopus' focus from his deprecating thoughts.

And then he appeared.

A great white, scarred and hulking, drifted towards Nightmare's perch. He was easily one of the biggest mer Nightmare had ever seen in his life, likely measuring up to six meters easy. As the crowd parted, many sneered behind the stranger's back over his ragged fins, the old divot splitting the left side of his skull.

But Nightmare was more interested in the bag of woven kelp and landdweller rope that he held.

Sharks were unusual participants in mating seasons- as they tended to congregate among their own and indulge in certain... scandalous traditions.

Nightmare’s tribe saw them as brutes, barely more than beasts with teeth and territorial instincts. And this one looked like he’d survived enough fights to prove it- yet he apparently wasn't below using the same crafty methods his people would typically demean.

Interesting...

The great white stopped just short of the offering stones and met Nightmare’s eye. His grin - wide and all jagged teeth - should have unsettled Nightmare.

Instead, he flushed. It was a very different look to the one all other suitors had given him.

The shark reached into his bag and, with careful precision, laid out his tribute: a mound of still-twitching eels, bloated sea slugs, crushed crab, and even a rare giant isopod, its armored belly already split to reveal buttery innards.

The air thickened with oil, decay, and calcium stink.

Nightmare’s pupil dilated.

He leaned forward despite himself, one tentacle curling to hide his mouth, not wanting to be caught drooling over a feast he'd fetch himself on a regular day. A strange noise came out of him- low, wanting, embarrassingly eager.

“You can eat now, lil' princeling,” the shark crooned. The voice was deep, slow, and laced with a mocking softness.

But Nightmare was too hungry to care, rewarding himself in indulgence with a large bite of crab. Not at all minding the haughty scoffs of other suitors, speaking excuses among each other for Nightmare's enthusiasm- a clear contentment that hadn't been shown for their own high-ranking catches.

When he licked his fingers clean- and later the entire haul, the shark’s tail flicked behind him like a pleased wag.

What’s your name?” Nightmare asked between his final bites, braver now with food in his belly.

“Horror,” the shark answered, like it was obvious. Grin confident and cheeky, like he knew something Nightmare didn't.

It made Nightmare's gaze linger on the mer, watching him lazily - almost mockingly for his fellow competitors - drift into the group that would move onto the next challenge. He glared at the shark's back, suddenly feeling determined to make them work much harder than the rest.

Notes:

Additional Context:

• Spoiler Alert! Horror won Nightmare's hand very good ;)
• The way it goes for this AU is that every mating season, royals who are of age will be contested over through traditional ways that vary with each tribe. The winner gets to mate with the royal for that season- as mers don't often mate for life, royals even less so, since it's in their priority to spread their genes among the most capable suitors.
• For Nightmare's tribe, they got to prove they can feed them, shelter them, and then finally- those who are left demonstrate their prowess in combat to prove they can defend their mate-to-be. Last standing is the champion.
• Horror proceeds to dominate the competition every fucking year- much to the frustration of many- especially Nightmare's mom 😂💀 until... certain other sharkie bois - who have been wondering where Horror's been at for the past few mating seasons - come to see what all the fuss is about when they realize he's been chasing some royal-octo pussy.
• Y'know where it's going from here but imma say it anyway- falls into BSP 🫠💗

Chapter 3: Love can be Tone Deaf

Summary:

Prompt Idea: (Mer!AU Betrothal!AU) Reaper, an orca prince, is betrothed to the selkie kingdom's only prince, Geno. A misunderstanding leads to the engagement being broken, however, allowing a certain siren to charm his way into something wicked.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The engagement was sealed with formal exchanges and shared interests between their parents. The selkies did not have the means of fighting back against the rising siren threat that the orcas held, and the orcas lacked the numbers.

They had much to benefit from one another and very little to lose.

So Reaper did not fuss upon learning that he'd be given to a stranger. A measly sixteenth son held no particular value aside from his breeding, and with how equally as desperate the selkies were, they wouldn't have the breathing-room to complain after Reaper's deathly magic.

Still, his parents were not cruel. They gave him time, told him about Prince Geno’s infamously cold demeanor, and assured Reaper he wasn’t expected to fall in love.

But Reaper... tried anyway.

Not because he was told to, not even because it was diplomatic. He tried because he was lonely. Orca pods were loud, bonded, warm- but Reaper had always been an exclusion, his magic a chilling thing that stole warmth and life where it touched too long. He didn’t blame his family for it. But it left him cold all the same.

So when he first saw Geno, Reaper couldn’t help but be enchanted. The leopard seal had all the graceful lethality of a hunter, but also something bashful buried beneath his scowls and curt words.

The way his tail squirmed when Reaper complimented him was endearing.

When his cheeks would bloom red when Reaper dared to flirt made his own heart race.

His willingness to see Reaper again after each meaning brought more and more hope to his heart.

Reaper thought it meant something.

But Geno always bit his tongue before thanking him. Always rolled his eyes. Always turned his back before Reaper could get too close.

The selkie only scowled and fussed whenever Reaper brought gifts: droves of fish best suited for the seal's tastes, skulls of his most prideful hunts, even the uncut gems and stones he'd travel deep into the trenches to fetch earned him no praises.

Not once - he realized with startling anxiety - did Geno ever actually smile in his presence.

And that was when Reaper realized that all of the feelings building between them, the hope he had built, brick-by-brick, the fantasy of a relationship- it was all in his head: an illusion concocted by his own desire for companionship. Seeing love in begrudging obligation.

None of it meant anything at all...

After his last visit to the selkie castle, Reaper had fled into the fringes of the wilderness. Found a grotto where he could freely shed his tears and let his magic writhe in pain- believing he was completely alone.

"Oh my."

Only to be interrupted by a voice that dripped like cloying nectar.

"A prince shouldn’t weep alone."

And then he met him.

Fatal Error was also a leopard seal, and at first Reaper thought the resemblance to Geno was a cruel joke. But Fatal was different in every way. Chatty where Geno was quiet. Lavish where Geno was modest. Fatal treated Reaper like a treasure, made sure to tell him his feelings again and again every time they met in secret.

"You are the sweetest creature I've ever had the pleasure of discovering."

He made Reaper feel wanted. Loved, even.

And when Fatal knelt before Reaper's parents, promising not only true love, but protection from the siren scourge he claimed to influence; all for his hand...

He didn't protest it. Not even a little.

 


 

Prince Geno learned of it the next morning.

His mother’s voice was cold and clipped, disappointment as sharp as ice. "The engagement has been nullified," she said.

"The orcas said you were incompatible," she further accused. "That your behavior offended their prince."

Geno couldn't process what more was being said. Everything sounded so far away, like he was being dragged down by his shock.

Incompatible?

Offended him...?

Reaper...?

He had never once seen Reaper angry. The orca prince had always smiled, always returned no matter how many times Geno scoffed at his gifts or snapped at his gratuitous flirtations. Always laughing his indifference aside.

It was strange. It was endearing.

"Geno, are you even paying attention?!" The shout from his father finally snapped him out of it, blinking back into attention to watch the man fume.

"This marriage was meant to be our only hope against the sirens!" Geno’s father roared, slamming a fist onto the throne. "Did we not teach you better?! Could you not have at least tried to humor his love for you at least until the wedding?!"

Again, Geno felt his breath catch in his throat.

Reaper... Reaper loved him?

. . . .

He began to feel small at the crushing realization that everything Reaper had done was genuine - every one of those soft words, every last stupid, romantic gesture - and he’d rejected it all with the grace of a sea urchin.

Geno had... he’d thought Reaper was just being diplomatic. That the kind words, the lavish gifts, the lingering looks- were just part of some rehearsed courtship... And what had he done?

He had ruined it.

Scoffed. Pouted. Turned away before he could thank him. Burned with embarrassment so hot it made his spine curl whenever Reaper flirted too openly, but instead of admitting the way it made his stomach swoop, he’d masked it with disdain.

Love was weakness in the court. A soft underbelly waiting to be ripped open. Marriage was political. Utility. Nothing more.

But Reaper hadn’t treated it that way.

And Geno had been too stupid, too afraid, to realize he was being offered something real.

The prince stormed from the chamber without permission, without another word. He didn’t care about decorum. All he could think about was Reaper, sweet, stupidly earnest Reaper. Who was given a miserable bastard's hand and somehow found something to love about him.

He had to fix this...!

Notes:

Additional Context:

• In this story, the difference between sirens and mermaids is LV. When mermaids obtain LV, they change. Their magic warps into something more violent and deadly, and their personality warps into something more predatory and dark.
• Fatal was once Geno's twin brother- however after obtaining LV and turning into a siren, he was banished from the selkie kingdom. This has left Fatal with a grudge against Geno and the selkie kingdom, wanting to make them pay for casting him out.

 

ALSO!! I may-haps... or may-haps not, left a little bonus cookie in the previous chapter... 👉👈 if anyone wants to go and find it. When you do, make sure you comment when you find it *painfully obvious winking sounds* (uwo)

Chapter 4: Logbook #1

Summary:

Prompt Idea: (Witcher!AU) Cross has finally completed his training and sets out from the only home he'd ever known. To walk the endless path of a monster slayer until he breathed his last. His only companion? His notebook to chronicle his travels and discoveries.

However...things don't seem to be going the way his schoolmasters have taught him.

Notes:

Implied spicy content warning?

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Entry #1: The Vampyre   16XX 0X/09

Village of Yantra - Contract: "Night Killer"

The first village I came upon had a vampyre problem. General descriptions defined them as lean, appearance of a skeleton monster, extremely fast. Likely to be a bruxa, but there is still reasonable suspicion in my mind that this could be an alp.

Encountered the vampyre shortly after dusk. With a few uses of Yrden and Moon dust I had them cornered in the crypt, but the vampyre was... surprisingly chatty for a bloodthirsty vagabond. He offered secrets in exchange for his life. Said he could teach me more about his kind than any bestiary.

I... may have been convinced. Sparing him was against my training. But it was worth it. I learned many things that will be of great importance for the schools. One such thing: Alp saliva treated with certain intent from the individual in question can be used as an excellent painkiller. Must be applied orally, however.

The vampyre was gone by noon, and despite not bringing back the head as proof of completion, the village elder found my... injuries, and the lack of bodies found in the morning as success.

 

Entry #5: The Harpy of Widow's Tower   16XX 0X/28

East of Gustfields - Wild Encounter: "Dusty Wings"

Was investigating the wilds west of Gustfields when I spotted a lone tower over a ridge. Turns out to have been the nest of a solitary harpy. Was smaller than average, grey in coloration, extremely territorial and unusually quiet.

Got dive-bombed from out of nowhere and cast aard out of reflex. After it was knocked out of the sky, it didn't take long to overwhelm. When the harpy seemed to realize that it stood no chance of winning, it scrambled to its claws and knees and seemed to... present itself. 

Apparently, harpies try to entice their predators with coitus to avoid predation. Maybe that's why there's so many variations? I took advantage of the opportunity to test a hypothesis.

Will have to return in the future to check results of experiment.

 

Entry #13: The Rock troll   16XX 0X/14

Village of Carsten - Contract: "Child-feasting Horror"

The people of Carsten spoke of a "flesh-hungry beast" stealing their young. What I found was a malnourished and near-crippled rock troll hoarding wild turnips and dried fish in a cave, feeding starved children like a frantic nursemaid. It was... a saddening display of how poverty has affected the land.

I decided that the rock troll did nothing to deserve my blade, however, knowing that the village will not agree, I tried to convince them to move to somewhere remote. Lest they simply hire one of my less honorable peers to finish the job.

Needless to say negotiations failed. Rock trolls are stubborn. Had to subdue it after evacuating the children. When it finally yielded, it still refused to see reason. Was convinced the "little ones" needed him. Gods...

With some... creative persuasion, the rock troll agreed to relocate east, where game is plentiful. (I hope they don't accidentally intrude on Dust's nest. Shit).

I left the village with half my promised coin. They’ll need it more.

 

Entry #18: The Mutant Arachnomorph Collossi   16XX 0X/26

South-west of the Stonecutter's Settlement - Wild Encounter: "Biological Error"

I don't know how I survived this encounter. This arachnomorph was extremely unusual: preferring to build it's nest on the surface in a forest over a cave far removed from the sun and weather. It was a collossi without a doubt, at least three times the size of its kind. However it was also something more.

This arachnomorph created sophisticated web traps throughout the forest it inhabited- ones even capable of fooling me. After trapping me in silk, he spent twenty minutes critiquing my armor’s stitching before noticing my... physical reaction to being tied up. What followed was educational.

  • This individual's venom - when diluted with magic - induced euphoria on top of acting as a numbing agent. Whether this is an effect exclusive to collossi or this individual alone, I have yet to know.
  • The spine (upper torso; lumbar vertebrae) of arachnomorphae appears to be reinforced with additional mana-lines to resist torsion and accommodate unbalanced weight. When dealing with less... er, more violent individuals, this location may serve as a notable weak spot.
  • Arachnomorphae hairs are sensitive along the underside of their cephalothorax and abdomen.

Escaped during... grooming. Took three spools-worth of silk as compensation. (Note: Arachnomorph silk, when harvested mid-coitus, makes the material vastly superior to those harvested from corpses.)

Notes:

Additional Context:

• I headcanon that Cross would be from the Griffin School.
• I still have more planned for this particular story- which will have to be continued in another dump sometime: but Cross goes on a long journey and gets up to some shenanigans alright 💀
• Not bro slowly becoming a monster fucker after leaving home ONCE 😂

Chapter 5: Tokyo Drifting (Into Those DMs)

Summary:

Prompt Idea: (StreetRacing!AU) Ink is a dark horse transfer student about to teach these people some real Tokyo drifting. B^)

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The school parking lot smelled of burnt rubber and teenage desperation when Ink first saw them- a pair of skeleton monsters with magic too soft and figures too enticing for it to be legal. Perched on a red Chevrolet.

Ink’s American wasn’t the greatest yet, but he didn’t need it to whisper: "Holy shit."

He hadn't realized he fumbled over until the beauty in the yellow peplum blouse and golden hoop earrings turned his way and locked eyes with him, causing his companion with the baby blue tube top and pastel stickers decorating his skull to turn as well.

The two of them gave Ink mischievous, vaguely friendly smiles- and the way his body reacted was immediate and intense. Heat flared in his cheeks, his pulse quickened, and before his brain caught up, his mouth was already moving.

“Hey there, gorgeous people,” he said, accent thick but confidence razor-sharp. “You single?”

The one in yellow blinked, clearly flustered, while the other - twisting around in a way that made the ecto around his jeans jiggle sinfully - appraised Ink under a new expression.

"Oh, You Must Be The New Kid," the tube top beauty said, resting a hand on the other's hip. “Like, You’re Really New Here, Huh?”

Damn, was he really that rusty? Do-over! Do-over!

“Transfer,” Ink confirmed, eyelights flicking between them. “Japan. And if flirting with angels is illegal here, someone better cuff me now.”

Their startled laughter made it worth the shot- but also summoned something else.

"Hey!"

The three of them jumped at the shout, seeing a particularly irate cat monster marching their way with eyes set in a glare at Ink. He vaguely recognized him as someone among the moderately popular crowd, but the name eluded him.

Turning to his acquaintances to possibly ask, Ink felt the words die in his mouth as he registered the way the two seemed to deflate and grow dull with the new guy's approach.

Something unpleasant stirred in his chest at the sight- like a dosage of red was pumping in his bones.

"The fuck you think you're doing with my girls, noob?" The guy growled, stopping just short of shoving Ink.

Ink blinked. Was this a trick question...?

"Flirting...?"

The crowd ooh’d, and Ink looked all around him in confusion as the energy shifted like tires on wet asphalt.

Gasps followed. Whispers spread like engine fire. A circle had formed around them without Ink realizing, students drawn by the scent of drama and a possible fist fight. The guy in front of him - apparently called Gato if he were understanding the words being murmured around - gritted his teeth, a muscle in his jaw twitching.

"Well fuck off short stack! These chicks 're spoken for!" Gato hissed, tilting his head toward the pair now leaning closer together on the car's hood. "They're mine."

Yours?” Ink asked, tone disbelieving. “You stake claim like they’re Pokémon or something?”

Gato’s grin widened. “Won them fair an' square, pipsqueak. Their idiot boyfriends bet them and lost. That’s how the game works around here.”

...Oh.

Ink glanced back at the two, fully taking in their expressions for the first time. The yellow bombshell looked away, clearly embarrassed. The smaller skeleton gave him a wan smile that reached nowhere near the one he was flashing just moments ago.

Neither of them spoke. That did something sharp and sour to Ink’s stomach.

Gato sneered, seeming to take offense to his staring and got his attention again with a violent shove to his shoulder. “Hey! You’re new, so I’ll give you a free pass and let you walk away with an apology. But if I catch your sorry twink ass ogling Dream or Blue I'll add you to my collection next!”

Oh. Wrong words, pal...

“I don’t walk.” He made sure to state loudly. Firmly.

The crowd of hormonal teens grew excited.

“You want to race, foreigner? Fine. We stake. If I win, you give me your car and your ass.”

Ink shrugged. "If you say so," he cheekily grinned. Only to sober up with a dark look seconds later.

“But if I win...” Ink’s eyelights slid toward Dream and Blue, whose expressions sharpened into things more guarded than the pretty smiles he had already come to enjoy.

Ink smirked. “You gotta leave them alone!"

Everyone went quiet for a moment. People's faces fell blank, some froze mid-breath. Even Gato blinked, stunned by Ink's stake.

And then- laughter

“You serious?” Everyone- even the surly cat monster burst out in laughter, incredulous tears rolling down his cheeks in disbelief. "Wha- hahaha! Dude! Are you serious?! Are you fucking kidding me right now?! This loser thinks he can win some pussy by playing hero! 'Leave them alone!' Oh my fucking stars!"

Dream and Blue simply watched, unblinking. Ink couldn't wait to bring those pretty smiles back to their faces.

"Yeah," Ink said, his own smile gone. "I'm serious."

No one laughed this time.

 


 

Devil’s Drop was a serpentine nightmare: hairpin turns, no guardrails, a 300-foot plunge on one side. The student body clustered like vultures, phones out for the coming massacre.

When Gato showed up, revving his modified Mustang- he tried not to stare at the admittedly attractive matching crop tops Dream and Blue were sporting on the sidelines - not needing to be told that the fashion choice likely wasn't their own choice.

He wondered if Blue was a bandanna guy.

"Hey, short stack!" Gato broke Ink's thoughts with a sneer, levelling his RX-7 with a judgmental look.

"You seriously couldn't bring me a better piece than that?"

“I shipped my baby from Tokyo,” Ink said casually. “She’s got more soul than your souped-up rust bucket.”

And that was all the smack-talk they managed to squeeze in before the flags dropped.

They exploded off the line at the same time. But Ink didn't take long to glide into the lead.

He hadn't spent his entire adolescence Tōge racing with nothing to show for it. What happened next felt less like a race and more like a performance.

Of course he crossed the finish line first.

Notes:

Additional Context:

(Omake)

"You... You actually won."

"Of course? Silly American was stupid to challenge me in drift racing! Especially on a Tōge track!"

Blue and Dream exchanged a quick look. "So... What Now...?"

"Now! You two can do whatever you want!"

The pair just stared.

"...You were serious about that???"

"Of course!" Ink cheered.

"...Don't You Want To...? Y'know..." Blue made his ecto jiggle in subtle insinuation.

"Oh of course I do! You're both very sexy!"

Dream flushed, feeling frazzled. "Then why didn't you just take us?!"

"Because I want to see you smile more, sillies! You are very beautiful when you're happy!"

". . . . ."

Two pair quickly huddled together.

"(Is This Guy Being Real Right Now, Dream?)"

"(I... I think he is.)"

"(Holy Shit.)"

"(Holy shit, indeed.)"

"So! Um...!"

They hastily pulled away from their huddle.

"Y- Yes...?"

"I was wondering if you both- only if you want to, of course! If you both would like to go... shopping...? With me...?"

". . . . ."

What the fuck was this guy saying???

"Shopping...?" Was that some kind of sexual lingo?

"Well-! I thought maybe, you'd like... new clothes? That you actually like?"

Oh stars have mercy...

Blue pulled him back in with a low whine. "(Dream, Oh My Stars.)"

"(I know Blue, I know.)"

They looked back to the flustered exchange student, squirming and looking at anything but them.

"Are you offering a ride?" Dream tested.

"Y- Yeah...?"

"...Only If I Get To Drive!" Blue challenged brazenly.

Only for Ink to blindside them again.

"Really?! Yes! Whoopie!" Without a single hesitation, he fished out his keys and handed them to Blue.

"C'mon guys! I still haven't seen much of the city yet! You can show me the good places!"

The pair were frozen as Ink rushed back to his car, jumping on his heels like a child being promised a trip to McDonalds.

Blue felt the hand holding the keys get sweaty as he slowly turned to his friend. "Dream..."

"...Yeah, Blue?"

"We Have To Double Stuff Him By The End Of The Night."

Without letting his face betray him, Dream nodded, feeling his magic throb with a filthy, powerful want as Ink innocently began to cajole them to come over.

"Yes we do."

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