Inktober Shorts (1) - What Do You Call A Group of Glitches?

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Summary: A snuggle. You call them a snuggle.

(Warning: This chapter contains mild swearing

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(Warning: This chapter contains mild swearing.)

Ink and Dream rushed through the bustling Surface street littered with monsters and humans alike

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

Ink and Dream rushed through the bustling Surface street littered with monsters and humans alike. Despite the fact skeleton monsters were an extreme rarity, no one so much as gave them a second glance; not even the monsters who should have known the resident skeleton brothers were some, if not the last, of their kind.

Dream panted while his feet pounded against the stone pavement. Skull flushed a light yellow and matching-colored sweat droplets trailing down his forehead. "Ink, as much as I love randomly running around AUs with you, what are we doing here?"

The artist glanced at his companion, not slowing his gait in the slightest.

"I got a notice stating Error is somewhere in this AU. We have to find him before he destroys anything." He quickly found himself side-eyed with a disapproving look, causing him to tack on, "Or hurts anyone!"

Still eyeing the other warily, the Guardian of Positivity struggled to keep up next to him and questioned between breaths, "Okay, do you know where he is?"

A wide grin worked its way onto Ink's face. "Yup! This way!"

He led them across the city to a small suburban cul-de-sac lined with large, fancy houses alongside spacious well-groomed yards.

One of which they burst into, breaking down the dark oak front door and walking inside.

Though, Dream was more hesitant to enter. "Uh... Ink, isn't this breaking and entering?"

"Yes. But we are investigating evil, so I'm sure it will be fine." The guardian said, waving off his concern and examining the darkly decorated foyer around them. Then, naturally, walked further into the house.

"What are you-" The yellow-clad skeleton sighed when he got ignored, trailing after him.

Ink proceeded to nonchalantly wander the abode, poking his head through doors and touching/moving anything not nailed down (despite Dream's protests) until they approached the one door he had yet to open. It laid at the end of the second floor's left hallway, bearing a far too tempting to ignore "do not disturb" sign.

A brown-gloved hand reached for its silver handle.

"Wait, don't-" His exasperated companion warned, only to have his voice cut off by the hinge's obnoxious squeak. Thus, leaving the Guardian of Positivity mute; Face cringing with each loud creak of the door.

When it was finally fully opened, both skeletons froze at the sight inside: a luxurious bed that currently held an odd Sans bearing strange blocky glitches and his dark-boned companion that had "error" signs flickering around him. Snuggled under the blankets. Together.

"Error! So scandalous!" Ink gasped.

Just as the words left his mouth, light snores gently drifted from the pair.

Dream raised a brow, carefully inching closer to their prone forms. "Wait, are... are they sleeping?"

"Looks like it!"

The soulless skeleton suddenly snorted, humor sparkling in his eyelights, and playfully nudged the yellow-clad guardian's side.

"Wh- Heh-he, what do you call a group of glitches?" He instantly replied without missing a beat, "They're a hiss!"

Dream frowned. "Ink, that doesn't even make any sense."

The aforementioned artist huffed in mock offense. "Yes, it does! It's because they're so grouchy."

"Then wouldn't that be better to call them a-"

An irritated shout pierced the room. "REAPER! For fucks sake, get rid of these noisy assholes; I'm trying to sleep!"

Ink and Dream startled, glancing forward to seen Geno had partially risen from the bed's fluffy dark-toned blanket, eye sockets narrowed at them, and teeth pulled into a snarl.

They promptly turned when a rush of cold air chilled their spines.

Reaper, in all his unamused glory, stood behind.

Dream paled. Meanwhile, his artistically inclined partner-in-crime gave an unabashed, friendly grin and waved.

However, it did little to improve the death god's soured mood.

"Hmm. So that's why the door is broken. Heh, and here I thought some human had a death wish." His aura darkened, and he slowly lifted the sharp, hooked weapon gripped in his phalanges. "Sorry, not sorry, guys, but it would seem you have to go."

Ink dodged the blade, holding up his hands in a placating gesture (or as close to that as he could get without remembering what it looked like). "Woah! Okay, okay- watch the scythe."

Reaper eyed him for a moment before drawing the weapon to his side. Its gleaming blade blatantly pointing at the exit. "Leave."

"Alright! We're going." Dream took the artist's hand and pulled him out of the room.

From there, the do-gooding duo booked it out of the death god's home, leaving him to ponder how exactly two moody glitches came to be napping in his bed- especially since there had been only one there when he went to get groceries.

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