One-shots [Reqs: 5]

Midnight Snacks

WHOOPS I ACCIDENTALLY WROTE ANOTHER

warning for heavily implied vomiting

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Killer woke up to the familiar tingle of hunger, his magic demanding food. A glance at Cross's stupid alarm clock told him it was ridiculously late, the glaring red numbers reading 4:52. He sighed out a low protest, wanting nothing more than to go to sleep, but his magic sent another pang through his body.

With another sigh, he pushed himself up onto his elbows, taking a moment to check on Cross and watch him rest. The other had curled up, drooling on the pillow he was hugging, quietly snoring. Even in sleep, his brow was creased with stress, his expression pinched in some unconscious response to whatever was going on in his head. Killer shifted and reached out, thumbing away the line of drool and huffing his amusement as Cross nuzzled into the touch.

His magic twisted again, and he pulled away, careful not to disturb his sleeping partner, who was a light sleeper most nights. When Cross did nothing but mumble and snuggle further into his pillow, Killer grinned and left the room. He would teleport, but he didn't trust his magic to be accurate when he'd just only woken. He didn't want to end up like Nightmare had, stuck in a wall with only the right side of his body poking out. Killer snickered at the memory, biting back a yawn at the same time.

He paused as he neared the hall that led to the kitchen, his brow raising. The light was on. Subconsciously, his magic surged, a glowing red knife flickering into his hand despite him knowing that it was most likely just Horror. He wouldn't put it past him to get midnight snacks on a regular basis. Still, he tightened his grip on the knife and sank into a low stance, silent as he crept up to the kitchen door.

He could hear quiet shuffling and muffled watery cracks, two sounds that made no sense whatsoever, nor did they line up with Horror's usual behavior. Horror was not a quiet eater. That scratched his name off the list, leaving Dust and Nightmare or a possible intruder. It couldn't be Cross, the other was dead asleep, and even if he had woken up and decided he wanted a snack as well, Killer would have seen him. Cross was smart, he wouldn't teleport either knowing that his aim would be off, and the only other path to the kitchen would've had him running into Killer. So it was definitely not Cross.

It couldn't be Nightmare, the other doesn't like eating. Why was he on the suspect list in the first place?? Killer geared himself up, getting ready to peek into the room. The only person it could be is Dust, but Dust sleeps in Horror's room. If Dust got up claiming to be hungry, Horror would be with him, and, knowing that Horror can't resist snacking once he has the chance, Horror would also be eating. And Horror doesn't eat quietly, which means it can't be Dust.

Killer sank even lower, switching the knife to his left hand and pressing his right hand to the floor. He willed his soul to dim, the red glow fading into a faint shine, much more unlikely to give him away. He took a deep breath, silent, and slipped around the corner.

The kitchen was dark, the only source of light being from the open fridge, and even then, it was meager. A figure, either small or hunched over, stood in the door, no doubt rummaging through the food. Killer's eyes narrowed, trying to discern any features. No hood, he could tell right off the bat. Everything else was obscured by the partially open fridge door. Killer's fingers flexed, and then he was sneaking across the room, to a better advantage point.

He winced as he bumped into the cabinets, hearing the crunching stop abruptly. Shit.

He popped up onto his feet, bracing, and lunged. At the same time, the figure snapped up, spinning around with wide eyes, and Killer stumbled as he caught sight of Dust's familiar eyelights. He tripped over his own feet, veering off course and slamming into the counter, his head jerking back to smash into what sounded like the toaster. He dropped onto his ass, groaning at the pain blooming in his lower spine and the back of his head.