#sans does not wear a mask at all and papyrus gets mad. but hes got a point he's like. we're skeletons what identity is there to hide | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

1-800-roflmao · 4 years

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Wash Day Delight Pt. 2

Fandom: Undertale (Video Game)

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Warnings Apply

Relationships: Papyrus (Undertale)/Reader, Papyrus (Undertale) & Reader

Characters: Papyrus (Undertale), Reader, Original Characters, Original Female Character(s), Mentions of other AU Papyri and Sans

Additional Tags: Reader Is Not Frisk (Undertale), Reader Is Not Chara (Undertale), reader is poc, reader is mixed, Reader has curly hair, Undertale Monsters on the Surface, Friendship, Wholesome, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, I’m Bad At Summaries, Not Beta Read

*Anyone else have that one curl that is your favorite? Like you just can’t stop messing with it? Also, promise the other skeletons will be joining in soon. For now, enjoy some fluff.

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As soon as she heard the bell above her door ring and the door settle closed with a click, she was rushing around her office tidying up and filing paperwork. She knew Papyrus would not waste any time if he could help it. She only hoped he took it easy on the little old woman. She had a feeling Mrs. Ida was tougher than she looked, but considering this was only their first meeting, she couldn’t help thinking she looked as fragile as a porcelain doll. “Please don’t break my client, Papi,” she pleaded, shutting and locking the last drawer on her desk for the day.

Her business was still small so she didn’t have any need for filing cabinets just yet, but it had been picking up. Most of her clients were elderly, which was to be expected when one dealt with wills, funerals, and burials. She wished more young people thought of wills. A properly notarised and established will could ease the mind, not only because it dictated what happens to your earthly possessions after death. No, a will could make sure your body and memory is honored how you wished despite you no longer being there. She had witnessed one too many funerals that were practically an insult; honestly, some it would have been less offensive to simply spit on the dead’s grave.

Just as she felt her brows pinching, she huffed and closed her eyes as she took in a few calming breaths. It does no one any good getting mad on her own. A little snort escaped her at that thought. Her getting “mad on her own” was the catalyst for her to start her own business. “ANGER IS NOT INHERENTLY BAD. IT IS JUST HOW YOU DIRECT IT!” She made a mental note to thank a certain tall, pointy skeleton in her life for those words. She sent a mental thank you to his therapist as well.

As her mind jumped from one subject to the next, her hands and feet had stayed moving. By the time she zoned back in, she had finished tidying up and sanitizing the office. “Bad habit there,” she muttered, tossing the soiled paper towel into the bin tucked underneath her desk. A quick peek inside determined it wasn’t nearly full enough to toss and nothing in the bin would smell or pose a hazard. It could go another day.

Peeking at the clock as she locked the windows and pulled the curtains closed, she noted it had been only a couple minutes. Papyrus wasn’t back yet, surprisingly. She should be thankful as that means he didn’t rush and possibly her client wouldn’t be recovering from whiplash. She swears that skeleton could give a cheetah a run for its money. What’s terrifying is he is not even the fastest of the monsters she has met. Monsters were something else.

A couple minutes later and she had finished all her closing tasks: office locked up, hall and waiting area swept and wiped down, the last of the windows curtained, and furniture and often touched places sanitized. She’d even given the guest bathroom a quick clean up and gathered the dirty mugs and empty plate from the little refreshment corner she provided for clients waiting. Slipping her phone from her pocket, she checked the time with a quick double tap. Goodness, had Mrs. Ida parked that far down? Maybe she didn’t like parallel parking on these streets and instead parked in one of the hidden lots just off teh main road? Or had the two gotten lost?

A bubble of anxious energy caught in her throat as her mind jumped to the possibility that they were in trouble. She forced herself to take a breath and simply breathe. No, this was a safer area. She’d moved and chosen to place her business here for that reason. It did little to comfort. She was not ignorant to the fact that no matter how “safe” a place is, it is not completely immune to danger and the unfairness of life. Plus, Papyrus was a monster. And sadly, the portion of humanity that didn’t like change, didn’t like different, turned their prejudices to them or just broadened their spectrum of hate. What was even sadder was that some people of color, people who should know better and know how it feels to be treated as subhuman, hopped on the bandwagon; they were just happy it wasn’t directed at them anymore.

The pinch and strain in her forehead told her she needed to calm down. She breathed in slowly, deeply, and held it, counting down from ten as she rolled her shoulders back and let them drop. Once she hit zero, she let the air held in her lungs out in one long, even breath. She could feel the tension melting off, the bubble gone, and overall she felt lighter. Mal would be proud. She almost missed the munchkin flicking her forehead any time he saw her frowning. It reminded her of her mother telling her to “fix her face.”

Moving on, she saw she had a few notifications, but none were messages from her friend. She wished he sent something if it was going to take time for him to get back. She peeked out the front door and squinted down the street, both ways, trying to locate the two. She couldn’t see either, but she did see Papyrus’s red sports car parked just in front.

The area she lived in was considered the downtown area. It was mostly small businesses, shops, restaurants, a couple bars further over, and if you traveled just a few minutes further, you would hit the residential area. Well, the official residential area, anyway. And in the opposite direction was the main center of Ebott. Most business owners in downtown lived above their work space and some even rented out rooms. Her little office was on the quieter of the two main streets that had mostly offices, a little cafe, and a couple shops. This was Eighth Street. If you wanted to party, go to Sixth Street. That was where all the bars, clubs, taverns, and odd little gems were. She enjoyed going to hunt down her favorite food vendor.

Stepping outside, she sighed as the cool night air kissed at her cheeks and the exposed skin of her arms, causing goosebumps to rise. She was tempted to wait outside for him, but he expected her ready to go once he got back. One more glance at the clock on her phone and she decided to wait for him inside. He was an adult. She needed to have faith he could take care of himself. Plus, she had no clue which way they had gone and it would do no good to possibly wander in the wrong direction searching for them. She muttered a quick little wish for their safety before turning around and going back inside.

Like others on this street, she lived above her office space on the second floor. It felt nice to know her mortgage payments went to owning both her home and place of business one day. It also just felt good to have a space all to herself. She loved her mother and siblings, but she had been ready to go. Scooping up the dirty dishes on her way back to the little hallway, she balanced the tray in one hand and fished out her keys with the other. She could thank those years of waitressing and retail for two things: multitasking skills and patience. Keys secured, she found the right one, and unlocked the doorway to her haven. She left the door unlocked and just slightly ajar to let Papyrus know where she was and to let himself in.

It was clever how the building was set up. The ground floor had an office space, waiting area, guest bathroom, and small hallway connecting all three. The extra door in the hallway just looked like it would lead to a broom closet. It tickled her inner child each time she had to slide the false wall away and reveal the stairs that led up into her second story home. Stepping up the first few steps, she slid the wall back into place, then flicked a switch to turn on the lights in the stairwell before she quickly ascended the rest of the stairs.

On the landing, she tapped a foot on a nearby standing lamp and it filled the living room with gentle, warm light. She prefered using lamps over built in lighting. Most lighting in apartments were bright white and blue toned, while she had grown up with warmer, off white bulbs. She also was simply used to a dimmer environment back in her mother’s house. They didn’t keep lights running all day long. Only time the lights were on was at night for a bit and if you needed to look for something. She liked to consider her home cozy and welcoming despite the low lighting.

This space was enough. It felt bigger than it was since it was just her living here. It was hers, and it felt amazing every time she walked around her home how she wished, cooked what she wanted to eat, placed things where she wanted, and one day, she’d maybe get a pet. Removing her shoes at the landing, she slipped on a pair of slippers and padded across the vinyl flooring. While it was nice not having an inch of permanent carpet in her home, she had learned these sorts of floors could be chilly and it was a habit not worth breaking to wear house slippers or slides inside.

She beelined for her bedroom after dropping off the dishes in the sink to take care of later and tossing her mask into the trashcan. Now, she needed to get changed and do something about this hair. The “previous arrangements” Papyrus had spoken of was their weekly workout session. Usually, he would pop in after she had closed up and the two of them would take a jog or walk around the block, then hit the local gym. Her hair being down during a workout was just asking for frizz, tangles, and possibly it getting in the equipment at the gym. Plus, it was just hot as hell to keep it down while moving that much.

While she just wanted to toss off her clothes and bra without a care and face plant on her bed, maybe veg out on the couch, she knew she couldn’t cancel on Papyrus. Her drip for today was a four piece pantsuit gifted to her by Black and Edge for her birthday not long ago. Something about her needing to look powerful as a business woman and “none of her current attire was up to their standards.” The two had amazing taste though, so she couldn’t get too mad at them dissing her wardrobe. The blouse was made from a soft fabric in her favorite color. A black corset style vest with an honestly beautiful work of art of the back comprised of hand stitched embroidery and silk fabric, with matching silk lacing. The pants were custom fit--how they knew her measurements was still a mystery, but she suspected Wine had something to with it-- and also black. The long trenchcoat that matched with it that she hadn’t worn today was made of a heavy fabric in her favorite color with that same patterned silk lining the inside. It was hanging in her closet. She carefully removed the peices she wore before laying them on her bed neatly to avoid unnecessary wrinkles. She was pretty sure this suit was the most expensive thing in her home.

Digging through drawers, she picked out a pair of athletic tights, a sports bra, and a t-shirt the pun lovers of the skeleton family had given her. While it didn’t have a pun on it, it made for a lot of fun interaction when she wore it. Across the chest was written “Bet you Can’t Read the Back of This Shirt” and on the back “Bet You Can’t Read the Front of This Shirt.” The amount of people who try to slyly look at the other side after reading one then slinking away after realized they had been tricked was always amusing.

It took less than a second for her to unclasp her current bra and throw it into her hamper. It took a bit more time to slip on and clasp her sports bra. She took a moment to debate using the the j-hook before deciding it couldn’t hurt to have a little more stability. She froze as she heard movement in her house, something sliding, and then footsteps. She only began moving again after hearing Papyrus annouce his presence. She practically ripped her tights up her legs as she was very aware of the sound of his now bare feet clicking across her living room and getting closer. Her shirt was tugged over her head and arms slid through her shirt sleeves just as he poked his skull through her bedroom door, which she had apparently left open in her haste. Whoops.

Once Papyrus was sure he wouldn’t look like a nightlight bobbing along on his way back to his friend’s home, he finally left the cover of the bus stop and back onto the sidewalk. His mind was running over everything that had happened that evening. He wondered what possibly led the elderly human to assume he and his friend would be… canoodling, canoodling was a word he could handle to describe what she was hinting at. He preferred his magic to stay put right now. An exasperated sigh fell from his parted teeth as he considered the possibility that he was just overthinking and overanalyzing. The elderly human was probably just pulling a dirty jape on him. The next time they met, he would have to return the favor. Of course with a more classy, sophisticated jape, but a jape none the less.

“Papi!” she greeted with a little wave, blowing at her now mussed up hair from rushing to get dressed. She eventually had to push it out her face as it simply kept falling back. She was sure she looked a right mess at the moment.

∆∆∆

His sockets took in just how dark it was getting. How long had he been out? Did it really take that long to pretty much jog to the bus stop? Or had he taken that long to recover? A glance at the sky revealed the stars were in full view now, but the moon was still low. He focused on his hearing, but didn’t hear the usual ruckus from Sixth Street; so, it couldn’t have taken too long.

“NO SENSE IN WASTING ANYMORE TIME STANDING HERE!” he declared with a little stomp of his foot. “AND NOW I HAVE NOTHING HOLDING ME BACK!!” he practically cackled as he launched into a sprint, tearing down the sidewalk. She had better be prepared, especially considering all the extra time she had been given unintentionally. He refused to fail in his duties as her best and greatest friend. One such duty was pushing and supporting her goals. He had been ecstatic when she had told him she wanted his help with improving her health and getting in shape that first time. Not only had she come to HIM out of everyone, but now he could hang out with her even more.

Papyrus didn’t stop running until he had to hit the brakes infront of her front door. He noted that the lights had been turned off downstairs, but he could see warm light filtering through the second story window. Making his way inside, he closed and locked the front door, sliding the bolt at the top of door to secure it. There was two ways in and out of her home, this front door and the “back door.” The back door actually led to a side patio that wrapped around back to connect to a second staircase outside. He locked the doorway in the hall as well before practically bounding up the stairwell.

He made sure to call out your name once he reached the landing, “READY OR NOT, I HAVE RETURNED!!!” he added with his best impression of Edge’s cackle for humor. As he removed his shoes and set them on the rack against the wall, he could hear shuffling and little thumps from across the small, cozy home. His toes lightly clicked against the floor as he made his way to her room. As he got closer, he could hear the shuffling get more urgent and a little curse here and there.

“HUMAN, ARE YOU ALRIGHT IN HERE?” he didn’t know what he had expected when he peeked into her room, but his teeth clicked shut audibly as he tried to stifle a snort and keep himself from grinning. The human had apparrently been hurrying to finish dressing and had just pulled her shirt down. He had peeked in just as her head finally popped through her collar, or rather all he could see was an adorable fluffball. Her curls which had been relatively neat and orderly before was now... well, everywhere. He could see her lips which were now pouting after a failed attampt at blowing her hair out of her face. Her nose crinkling cutely in aggravation as she brings a hand up to shove the errant curls back.

His sockets focused on her fingers which had been all but swallowed up by her hair. The digits sinking in and he couldn’t help wondering how it would feel to tangle his own digits into her tresses. Was it as soft as it looked? Or would it be coarse? It wasn’t his first time wondering such things. She had a habit of playing with this one particular curl at her nape. He would often catch her twisting, pulling, and twirling that one lock of hair endlessly. That one curl now sticks out cutely anytime she wears her hair down and his phalanges itch to play with it like she does anytime he sees it.

“Papi?”

The skeleton jolted as he refocused on the present as her voice, so much closer than before, and a fleshy palm passing his vision. He blinked as her face came into view, looking up at him with a warm flush to her face. Well, what of her face he could see as she had released her hair and some had fallen back in her face again.

“I know my hair’s a mess right now, but I didn’t think it was so bad to leave you speechless,” she muttered, looking away as her hand came up to play with THAT curl again. He tore his sockets from her fingers deftly twisting the curl and brought a hand to catch hers, moving it away. She released the curl with little resistance, but still refused to look at him. That little curl snapped back and while he wished he could appreciate and marvel at how it did that, he had a friend to comfort.

“WHILE YOUR HAIR, YES, IS A MESS RIGHT NOW,” he held back a wince as her shoulders hunched a bit, “I DON’T THINK THAT’S A BAD THING!” he added with a bright smile. He could see her chancing a peek up at him from the corner of her eye. If she didn’t like people touching her face suddenly, he would have simply turned her head himself. Good- NO, GREAT friends respect boundaries. “IN FACT, I THINK IT’S VERY… OH, WHAT IS IT YOU HUMAN’S SAY?” he paused, pretending to think for a moment before snapping his phalanges, “CHIC!!! NO, FIERCE!! YES, I LIKE THAT ONE MUCH BETTER!” Was his volume control out the window at this point? Yes. Did he care? No. Because now she was looking at him fully, head tilted back and forcing curls to fall away. Her flush seemed to have worsened though.

Papyrus watched her as she took a minute to suck in a deep breath and exhale, closing her eyes briefly. The shock had apparently worn off as she now looked up at him bashfully from under her lashes. “Papi, has anyone told you you’re too much sometimes?” she asked with a little shake of her head as she seemed to be fighting back a smile.

Leave it to Papyrus to bring her mood back up in mere moments and hype her up to a point she might consider leaving the house like this. If only her hair didn’t pose a safety hazard at the gym and didn’t trap heat like a lion’s mane in the savanna. “Thanks, Papi,” she wiped a tear that had gathered in her eyes and took another moment to calm down and catch her breath.

He knew it was probably one of those questions that humans didn’t expect answers to, but he just grinned wider and answered anyway. “NOPE! AFTERALL, THE KEY TO POPULARITY IS LEAVING THEM WANTING MORE! NYEH HEHEH!!” And now his evening was even better as her laughter rang in his skull and she was smiling again, genuine and joyful.

∆∆∆

“ANYTIME FOR MY FAVORITE FLUFFY HUMAN!” her skeleton friend boasted. She just quirked a brow at the affectionate descriptor. She couldn’t say anything about it though, since half the skeleton household had nicknamed her as such. She couldn’t even argue that it didn’t fit. It was better than “Curly” atleast, or the various food and drink related nicknames Sugar and Oak had tried on her.

Sighing, she loosed her hand from her friend’s grip and stepped back. “Come on, let’s get out of the door. Can’t be good for your back and neck,” she ushered him in with a gentle tug to his hand. He stepped inside with little urging and almost immediately he was rolling his shoulders and stretching. He must not have realized how long they had been in the doorway. Thankfully, her home had higher ceilings than normal, but sadly the doorways were still made for average sized humans so anytime the Papyri or Oak visited, they had to duck through the doorways. She was saving up for renovations for atleast the first floor to be more monster accommodating one day.

Letting go of his hand, she padded across her room and into her private bath. While her bathroom wasn’t extravagant, it atleast was nicer and bigger than any bathroom she had used before now. Correction, it was the nicest before she visited the skeletons’ house. She could have lived in that tub. The water pressure in the shower had been amazing as well. Stepping up to the sink and vanity, her eyes scanned the counter top for a particular item. “There you are,” she mumbled as she picked up the spray bottle. It was filled with water and detangler, just the miracle she needed to help her tame this mane and hopefully get it pulled back into atleast a ponytail. Maybe she should go with a pineapple puff? No, too many loose ends to get caught on equipment. A bun then? Or a braid? After checking how easy her hair would cooperate, she settled on two thick french plaits.

She hadn’t even gotten to pull the trigger once before she heard Papyrus in the doorway as he ducked through and stared at her with curious empty sockets. Even without eyelights, she could feel where his focus was. It was on her hand poised with a spray bottle aimed at her hair. Rather than saying anything or asking what he wanted, she pulled the trigger and started the process of dampening her hair. It wasn’t until her curls started to get weighed down with moisture that Papyrus finally spoke up.

“HUMAN, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” Her gaze locked with his visage in the mirror as he had moved closer. His gaze wasn’t on the spray bottle anymore and rather on the top of her head. What was so interesting that he had to move closer? While this bathroom was on the bigger side, it wasn’t quite big enough to not feel cramped with a towering skeleton monster sharing the space as well.

“Taming this hair down,” she stated simply and she could see his teeth part to ask another question, most likely “why” she was doing this after his encouragement. “Papi, you do remember where we’re going tonight right?” She didn’t continue speaking until he nodded, “Sorry to tell you, but this FIERCE hair is a little too much for the gym. It gets caught on a shit around here, rather not think of what it could get caught on at a place with heavy weights, equipment, and the occasional fool who can’t keep his or her or their hands to themselves.” She’d started off wanting to play it off lightly with a joke, but some frustration had leaked into her voice as she remembered there were still people who didn’t understand you couldn’t treat others like a petting zoo.

It’s not like touching her hair is completely off limits. Just ask first, most times she’s fine with it so long as they don’t over do it. Plus, she worked to hard to ensure the health and texture of her hair for it go unappeciated by not only herself, but those close to her. Strangely, none of her skeleton friends, except one, had recently tried or asked to touch it. Only one had tried and she had gotten on him about consent. That had been Cash, back when they had first met, but now he was pest about it and she had taken to telling him no just to spite him.

Papyrus had originally ducked into the bathroom to ask if he could get himself a glass of water while he waited, but had been struck with curiosity as he saw his human friend aiming a spray bottle at her head, more specifically her hair. It was similar to the spray bottle they had used to discipline the cats back home at one point. He was aware that humans had various products--thousands he had discovered--for their hair. Especially the women of the species, but the men weren’t exempt either. It had been overwhelming the first time he had stepped into a store on the surface. They just had an overwhelming amount of choices for pretty much everything.

Zoning back in, she noticed Papyrus’s teeth had just closed, “Sorry, did you say something? Fraid I missed it,” she piped up apologetically as she started wetting her hair again. Maybe it would have been easier to just duck her head under the shower at this point. “Papi?” she called as he didn’t answer, peeking up at him again in mirror, but he ssemed to be lost in his thoughts again. Sighing, she left him to it and picked up a wide tooth comb and began working out knots gently as she could.

∆∆∆

He wandered closer for a better look as she began spritzing her hair. He could smell that the bottle didn’t just contain water. It didn’t smell bad though. No, it smelled warm and comforting, just like her. His sockets locked onto how the water seemed to bead and run down her hair, reminding him of how water would just roll off a duck’s back. Some of the beads got caught on the kinks and turns her hair would make, but her fingers helped to gently coax the water to absorb until her hair started to lay down with the excess moisture. He’d asked what she was doing, but much to his shame, he was hardly focusing on her answer.

He nodded to her question. Of course he knew where they were going, but wasn’t quite understanding why the place mattered? Then again, now that he thinks about it, he had never seen her wear her hair down when they went to the gym or on runs. He’d simply assumed it was her preferred look for those moments and he enjoyed seeing all the different updos she could manipulate her hair into. He wasn’t afraid to admit he didn’t want her to “tame” her hair as she had put it right now.

He more heard her explanation, rather than actively listening, but understood what she saying. It made sense. It was practical reasoning. He kept quiet as the last bit registered with him and held in a dejected sigh. He had hoped Cash was pulling everyone’s legs about her not liking others touching her hair. His alternate was almost also pulling pranks and getting lectured for it. “Of All Things For Cash to Be Serious About…” he muttered, not caring if he was pouting.

He let himself get lost in the practiced movements of her hands. She hadn’t shooed him away so he guessed he was permitted to stay and watch. He took note of how she worked a comb through her hair, the teeth were wider than the gag comb Sans carried in his hoodie pocket and she gently worked out knots starting at the ends and moving up. Once she deemed her hair knot free, she had grabbed an even funnier looking comb. This one had thinly spaced teeth, but had a long piece extending from the relatively small comb part. She used the long tapered part to part her hair down the middle then in what seemed effortless, she twisted one side of her hair and stuck the long bit through it like a hair pin. To his surprise, it stayed in place and didn’t unravel. Was she going to do this to the other side as well? Combs were an odd accessory, but he wasn't judging.

His head tilted as it almost looked like she getting her fingers tangled, but he finally figured out what she doing once she started moving. He watched in muted amazement as she braided with practiced ease, fingers gathering new hair to work in as she moved from her temple to her nape. The braid was chunky and laid neatly against her scalp, while the rest rested against her shoulder and neck as she finished it. She plucked the comb from her hair and ran the teeth through the end of the braid before twisting. The end result was a neat curl at the end that worked like magic to him keep the entire thing from unraveling. His jaw had dropped open without him noticing, only clacking closed as heard her giggle. Her fingers were already braiding the other side as she smiled teasingly up at him in the mirror.

Cheekbones flushing pink with magic for the second time that evening, Papyrus was thankful there were no windows in this room as he was sure his friend would not appreciate him throwing himself through it to get away from his embarrassment. “IT’S RUDE TO STARE,” he griped, only flushing more as she smiled more. “NO, STOP THAT. CEASE!” he commanded, straightening up with a flustered glare as she was practically grinning up at him now.

“Stop what, hmm?” Oh no. “And what do you mean it’s rude to stare? Weren’t you staring at me this for the past… ooooh, couple minutes?” Damn it.

Papyrus had nothing to say in defense, but a mess of words poured from his jaws and stars, maybe he should try throwing himself through that wall there. It couldn’t be that thick. He was sure he was practically glowing by now and he should just respond with his normal snark, but his usually brilliant mind was failing him at the moment. Once again he found himself muffling an embarrassed screech in his palms as a human woman laughed. Atleast this time, said woman was trying to comfort him and bring him back down to earth with familiar warmth and comfort that was all her.

#papyrus x reader #papyrus x self insert #papyrus x y/n #papyrus x you #papyrus #poc reader #curly haired reader #thick hair struggles #undertale #undertale au #fanfic #fic #undertale fic #fluff #oh so fluffy

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yastaghr · 5 years

Text

Our Skeleton 30

Warning: MCD (Not permenant)

Finally able to publish this! Enjoy!

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7563223/chapters/51589603

This time there were no passengers in the van when Toriel started belting her songs. A little old lady who was driving like a bat out of hell nearly clipped her van. Toriel didn’t seem to notice. She was on a mission. Everything outside of that mission was irrelevant.

She turned off the main road and was immediately surrounded by wealth. Huge houses on huge lots with beautiful landscaping covered the terraign. It reminded her of her childhood on the Surface. Castles and manor houses were where she, as the daughter of two important ambassadors, had spent most of her time.

She pulled into the driveway of one of the smaller houses in the area. It was still opulent, just at a slightly smaller scale. That left more room for the yard, which was manicured to perfection. Toriel admired it as she drove up to the front door. Asgore would have known more, but, then again he wasn’t the biggest fan of ornamental gardens like this. His flowers were always interspersed with practical plants: lavender, aloe vera, fruit bushes, vegetable plants, tomatoes, peppermint, chamomile, sage, etc. This garden was only meant to be looked at and maybe walked through. Toriel knew it would bother him, but he wasn’t here, so she could admire it all she wanted to.

Toriel soon found herself at the front door, knocking with the large iron knocker that decorated the center of the door. She had looked for a doorbell, but had found none. Just as she was beginning to worry that no one had heard her or that no one was home the door swung open.

A tall skeleton leaned around the door. He was wearing an argyle sweater vest over a red button-up shirt. His pants were pressed into a perfectly straight crease. His shoes were polished black lace ups. His face was set in a scowl, and by the wrinkles on his face, it usually was. “THERE IS AN EXPLICIT SIGN AT THE ENTRANCE TO THE NEIGHBORHOOD THAT THERE SHOULD BE NO SOLICITA- OH. OH DEAR. I DO APOLOGIZE, QUEEN TORIEL, I DID NOT KNOW IT WAS YOU. COME IN, COME IN. OUR HOME IS BLESSED TO BE GRACED BY YOUR PRESENCE.”

Toriel stepped inside and looked around. The floors were tile- not marble, but some kind of stone. The walls were white with gold molding. There was a double staircase that swept down from the upper floor to the center of the entry hall. Occasional small tables around the perimeter of the room held classical statues and one elegant vase. Everything was spotless. “I must say, your home is certainly...nice. The vase is quite beautiful,” She said, reaching out to feel it.

“DO NOT TOUCH THAT! IT- MY APOLOGIES. IT WAS HANDED DOWN TO ME BY MY MOTHER. I BELIEVE IT WAS A WEDDING GIFT OF HERS. WE USED IT IN OUR BONDING CEREMONY. SOMETHING OLD, YES?” The stiff monster said.

Toriel laughed in a practiced way that hid her discomfort. All she could think about as she looked through this room was Papyrus’ burnt hands. Had he been punished for touching something one too many times? Papyrus was a very tactile monster. Everything in his and Sans’ house was built to be handled by anyone and everyone as much as possible. He claimed it was good for the brain. His father did not seem to share the same views.

“Indeed. Do you mind if we sit down? I have quite a bit to discuss with you,” Toriel lied. She really only had two things to discuss with him. Their names were Sans and Papyrus. Nevertheless, they were important to discuss.

“OF COURSE! COME THIS WAY, THE SITTING ROOM IS JUST PAST THE CLOCK. HERE,” He gestured to the room with a flourish that hurt her heart. He looked just like Papyrus.

She tore her eyes away from the pain and took in the room. More importantly, she took in its occupant. “Frisk! Hello, dear child. I did not know you would be visiting today. Does anyone else know you are here, my child?”

Frisk nodded, putting down their piece of strawberry shortcake and signing, [I told Mr. Grillby. I slept at his house last night. Do you know how warm it is in there? So warm!]

Toriel laughed. “That is very true. He is a fire elemental, is he not? They like to keep their surroundings warm.”

Frisk paused for a moment, then nodded. [That’s true. I was just talking to T.N. Roman here about the history of skeletons. It was very interesting, but you probably know it better than I do. You lived through a lot of it, right?]

Toriel giggled. “My child, I am only 1,158 years old. Monster’s history goes a great deal further back than that.”

A cough drew her attention to T.N. Roman, who was looking impatient and annoyed with Frisk. Toriel remembered the restraint marks. Papyrus loved to talk with his hands. Surely he could not be mad at Frisk for the same thing? They needed their hands to talk, literally. They’d had to talk with Linda about this “quiet hands” thing before. Surely a monster would be more understanding? He said, “PERHAPS WE SHOULD MOVE OUR CONVERSATION ELSEWHERE? I AM SURE THIS IS A MATTER FOR ADULTS, NOT CHILDREN.”

Toriel instantly shook her head. She had a suspicion that Frisk knew very well why she was here. They would only find a way to eavesdrop if they were excluded. “No, no. Here is fine. It is not that serious a matter. I only wanted to ask you about some young skeletons who are trying to find out more of their past. Perhaps you have heard of them? Their names are Sans and Papyrus.”

The reaction was incredible. T.N. Roman’s whole face scrunched up into a mask of rage and consternation. His hands clenched so tight the bones creaked. The room filled with writhing snakes of emotional magic, twisting and knotting around each other like Gyftmas lights. Then a door slammed shut and the magic was gone. So was all the emotion on his face.

“I’M AFRAID I’M GOING TO HAVE TO ASK YOU BOTH TO LEAVE.”

Frisk stood up with a longing look at the rest of their cake and quietly followed Toriel out of the house. Neither said a word until they reached the van. Toriel opened one of the back doors and gestured Frisk in. “I am sorry to have lost you your cake, my child. I will make you a new one when we get home. Would you please come with me? I believe it is time for a counsel of war.”

Frisk didn’t answer, but they did climb into the van and buckle their seatbelt. Their eyes were darting all around them, not that Toriel could see through those long eyelashes. They’d only ever encountered that much anger in bad people; the kind of people who would lash out at the source of their anger. They didn’t want anyone to get hurt.

The next thing they knew Frisk was waking up with their ears ringing. Their head was full of stars and pain.

<You’ve got a concussion again. I think you’ll need to go to a hospital. Ask Mom if...oh.>

Frisk didn’t like that tone of voice. That was the dead tone of voice, the one Chara used whenever they were talking about “the plan”. They looked around and saw the bone. Somebody had raised a giant bone right in front of Toriel’s van, and they’d had enough harmful intent and she’d had enough speed that the whole van was wrapped around it. Frisk was safer in the backseat, but they couldn’t see Mom. Had she gotten out already? Her door wasn’t open. Had Sans teleported in and saved her?

<Frisk...the front seat is full of dust. She’s...she’s dead, Frisk. Mom’s dead.>

Frisk shook their head. No. Mom was...Mom was invincible. She wasn’t...she couldn’t be… A flashback overtook them.

-----

Frisk stared up at the giant monster, quaking in their boots. They were terrified of this woman. She touched them in weird ways, and tried to feed them weird food, and yelled at them when they asked to leave. It was just like the foster homes, only now, the only way out was through her. Frisk didn’t want to kill, but...there were so many warning signs that this woman would be abusive. They really didn’t want to take the risk.

Frisk stared down at the pile of dust. They felt sick to their stomach. They weren’t that much of a danger...were they? They just wanted to be free. Being trapped reminded them too much of that place. They needed to roam, to move, to be free. And that old lady wasn’t going to let them through for anything...right?

-----

<Frisk...we need to LOAD. Right now. Please, Frisk, I don’t...Frisk? Frisk, can you hear me?>

Frisk wasn’t listening. They were desperately trying to undo their seatbelt. They had to see. This couldn’t be real. They...they just had to!

Finally it came undone, and Frisk burst from it and crawled over to the driver’s side. They peered over the edge, hopeful that somehow, Chara was wrong. They were sure-

-But they were wrong. All that greeted them was a big pile of dust. Round, dark patches appeared in the pile. Frisk saw a drop of water fall from them to the dust. They were crying. Sobbing, now. Their whole world was turned over.

<Frisk. Frisk. Can I LOAD our SAVE? We SAVED just outside the door to the mansion, remember? I know you can think of some way to divert Mom from talking to him.>

Frisk sniffed. They could think of a way or two to do it, yes.

Frisk nodded and reached for their SAVE.

#undertale #our skeleton fanfic #toriel #frisk #mcd #temporary character death #yastaghr

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homicidaldorito · 5 years

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Darkfell/Fightfell AU

Papyrus “Vicious”

Selectively kind, protective and gentle. This is who he truly is, not the persona known as Vicious he dawns on when he’s out in the City or in the Temple. He wears this mask to keep suspicion away from his family and to keep people from getting close to him.

Vicious is a ruthless, unfeeling and feared monster who has won many fights in the Temple and even before the barrier was shattered. No one dares look at him wrong on the streets, even though he himself doesn’t even look in the direction of others, finding them all the same and rather dull. He has very good hearing though and can sense when people are staring at him, even if you try to hide it, he will know.

He values his family's safety over everything else, doing whatever it takes to keep them safe from harm, though it’s difficult to do when it comes to their half human half monster ‘sibling’ since her kind aren’t actually respected and looked at like freaks of nature. He still defends her, since she is their ‘property’.

He is the middle child, though he acts much older than he looks, taking on the responsibilities his brother and father cannot always do. This means that he: cooks, cleans, does laundry and grocery shopping. He spends most of his time with Arcadia, so she helps him with whatever needs to be done, learning how to do everyday life things from his teachings.

Papyrus has always had a very strange dedication to the Forsaken Child Gaster brought in one night, finding it in her best interest to be raised by a great skeleton like himself. The same night he gained a sister, he lost his father. After that night, Papyrus dedicated himself to help raise the small sickly baby girl. He loves he like she is his bone and blood, since he’s been the one to take care of her for several years now. Once his father started showing up less and less, he was all she had. He taught her how to read and write, even forces her to read aloud so he knows she’s got a voice in there somewhere.

The only things that stays about Vicious is the fact that Papyrus gets irritated over certain things, never truly angry though. This happens whenever Sans calls Arcadia a nuisance, when his brother and father fight and when his spaghetti doesn’t turn out perfectly.

He’s painfully aware that Sans doesn’t care for Arcadia, nor does he show any signs of changing his attitude towards him. He knows his older brother better than anyone, so he understands that it’s more than a jealousy phase. He just wants his family to be the way it was before, there was a time when Sans actually liked Arcadia but it was many years ago...though he has no idea what happened. Papyrus suspects that this is Sans’ way of rebelling against their father and that he’s fighting himself on the inside.

Papyrus has a good relationship with his father, or so he thinks. Since his father doesn't leave his room or lab very often, so they don’t interact very much but he always follows the orders Gaster gives him without question. He doesn’t have any ill will towards his father even though he forced the boys to do unspeakable things in the Underground for him but once they were freed, he began to change for the better.

Papyrus’ only other friend is Undyne, the fish girl whose eye he stole, who still protects Asgore even though he is a God-like ruler over the surface. After he took her eye and she carved up his face, they became friends and battle buddies in the Underground and even on the surface. They meet every so often when Asgore comes to the house to chat with Gaster.

Sans “Sour”

Sans is a very cautious, reserved and judgemental skeleton who reserves his kindness for very few people. Sans doesn’t have much patients for most people, though he tries his best to be respectful when he has too but that’s on rare occasions. He’s especially cruel to the Forsaken Child living with him, calling the families nuisance.

Sans’ normally isn’t home, being employed by Grillby to transport cargo from one place to another whenever he has the chance or even hanging out with Undyne’s partner Alphys. If he is home though, he’s normally in his room or on the couch sleeping, waiting for Papyrus to finish supper so that he can eat and retreat back to his hiding place. He only eats dinner at the table to spend time with his brother and to make sure he knows that his cooking is appreciated. He leaves before his father comes up (most of the time), so they don’t start a screaming match in front of Pap.

Sans thinks the only reason why Gaster took Arcadia in was to make up for all the things he did to the humans, having experimented on them, ripped the determination out of them and then killed them in cold blood. Sans hates his father because he believes that he is a hypocrite, trying to make up for something he would most likely do again if he was asked too. Forcing Arcadia to fight her own kind in order to keep suspicion away from the family, making her kill people like he had with the boys.

Sans has killed many humans, be it on the surface or in the Temple, making him believe that he could never be friends or love humans since his hands were stained with their blood/ He doesn’t want to be like his father, pretending his sins hadn’t been committed when they were all he ever thought about. Sans cannot repent for his sins, or so he thinks, so he acts the same way towards humans that he always has...cold and cruel. He used to believe that he could, that’s why he was able to be around Arcadia when she was younger but once he started thinking more...he realizes that it was nothing more than a waste of time. If she knew the truth, she wouldn’t look at him the same. So he cut her off before she could.

In truth, Sans feels awful for Arcadia since she is forced to fight and forget every death that is by her hands. Seeing her fight without being able to consciously stop herself, makes his soul ache and his hatred for his father grow..because he sees himself in her. He never wanted to hurt anyone, he never wanted to take a single life but his father’s orders were absolute.

There were nights where he would find her crying in the dark all by herself so he would happily take her into his room. He would make her a warm glass of milk, help her drink and then lay her down so that she could cry into his chest and fall asleep with him next to her, so she didn’t have to be alone anymore. He loves her deep down but can’t bare to lie to her about his past or pretend that it never happened so he simply stays as far away as he can from her to protect them both.

Sans got the nickname Sour because the mood he is always in, he doesn’t mind it since he knows that it fits so well. He is the lesser feared brother, not having as much wiggle room to get beat up like his brother does but he’s never lost a fight against another monster or human. He’s got many ‘scars’ from his time in the Underground but the worse one he’s gotten was from a monster (Arcadia’s sperm donor) that left his eye blurred and hard to see out of.

Gaster

Gaster is a slightly mentally unstable mad scientist/doctor who has the worst guilty conscience in the history of any living being. He did some things in his past that could never be forgiven but he tries to make up for them in ways that are unorthodox and strange.

He has severe depression and anxiety, being unable to leave his bed or lab for days at a time because it gets to the point he has to sleep to escape his living nightmare. He never tells anyone about the thoughts running through his head, he simply shoulders the burden all by himself. He barely answers his bedroom or lab door but if he knows its Arcadia he opens right away in fear that she’d gotten sick again. She uses this to her advantage sometimes just to make sure he hasn’t perished in that god forsaken lab of his.

He truly loves his children, even if he doesn’t seem like the perfect father, wanting only the best for his children now that he isn’t hell bent on trying to free everyone from the Underground. He had done terrible things to his boys and humans that fell into the Underground before the barrier shattered...and all he wants to do is make up for everything he’s done for his work. He knows that not every scar will heal, not everything he does will be enough but he tries never-the-less.

He has an explosive temper, though he tends to forget what he’s ranting about a couple seconds into it and then goes back to normal. Anything and everything can set him off but he never becomes violent, well, he never can remember that far to get violent.

He was following in Asgore’s footsteps, wanting nothing more than to destroy humans and get revenge. He used to force Sans and Papyrus to fight in both the Underground and the Temple, wanting nothing more than to experiment on souls and the concepts of determination but once a human woman came into his life and changed him...he just wanted to save everyone that he could.

Gaster and Arcadia’s mother first met each other when a monster offered up his ‘untrained harlot’ to be of any service to the widely known scientist but Gaster had wanted nothing to do with her...until she mouthed off in front of him. Gaster decided that she would come and clean his lab twice a week...and from there she became someone he never wanted to lose. She opened his eyes to all the things he’d done, everything he thought was true about humans. Sure, they were heartless and cruel to their own kind but there were gems hidden within the sand. She was one of them, teaching him all the things he never knew. One day she showed up telling him that she was pregnant, hysterical that her monster would kill the child if he found out but hopeful that the child wouldn’t be another miscarriage so Gaster helped her hide it...even though she never truly gained all that much weight or had physical signs.

The day Arcadia was born, was the day her mother was slaughtered in the street. She came barging into Gaster’s home, broken and bleeding everywhere...just to shove a sickly baby girl into his arms and give him a kiss goodbye. She ran away from him and was found the next morning dead in the streets, giving up her own life to save her precious child. Gaster was heartbroken and truly lost himself that day but vowed to care for the girl as if she were his own, for the woman he loved and to keep a part of her alive. He’s never been the same since.

Gaster cannot stand Toriel or Asgore, finding Asgore to be violent and Toriel greedy. He doesn’t like that Asgore still has the humans enslaved to monsters, now that he knows that not all humans are the same. He knows that Toriel sells her Forsaken Children off to the highest bidder as weapons, even though she pretends to not know a damn thing. Whenever Asgore comes to Gaster’’s home, Gaster pretends to be friendly with him but really wants to kick him out the moment he steps foot inside..

Gaster has to force the girl to act as a slave whenever Asgore or anyone else comes around, being short and cruel to her whenever she messes up something. He’s trained Arcadia to make mistakes in order for her to be sent to her room, preventing any unwanted exposure to anyone who isn’t in the family. No one will lay a finger on her, not even in the presence of company, other than maybe scooping her up or grabbing her wrist.

Asgore Dremurr

After shattering the barrier trapping the monsters under Mount Ebott, Asgore became a God-like monster who rules over the surface. He enslaved humans about 20 years ago, never letting up the rules, not even after he changed his mind about humans. He keeps the law in place to keep his subjects happy and so they get their fill of revenge. He also doesn’t want his people to become opressed again and he fears that he will have to kill the humans if they rise up against them.

He has noticed a change in Gaster, especially towards him. He also didn’t find out about the child until she was almost 13 years old...but decided not to question where he’d gotten her from in fear of angering the mad doctor. He was never allowed close enough to ask the girl himself but again, didn’t want to push his luck.

Asgore had once been a merciless warrior, a stone cold ruler and a human’s worst nightmare but he resides in his castle most days now...reflecting on his actions and keeping his head about him. He didn’t want to end up like Gaster. He’s very calm, collected and reachable, wanting nothing more than to do whats best for his people.

Toriel Dremurr

She doesn’t speak to anyone unless they are in the orphanage or a supplier, being too caught up in her sales to be bothered. She is truly picky about who she sells her children, making sure they aren’t going to be roughed up to much and properly taken care of. She’s too caught up in all the details to understand that people fake their applications so that she picks them...once she signs over the child they’ll be used as tools in the Temple for entertainment.

She’s somewhat greedy as well, wanting a high price for her children thinking that no one will want them if she wants an outrageous amount for them but most times people will sell their souls for a Forsaken Child, just to get entertainment out of them. She doesn’t refuse them if they can pay.

She hired Dogressa, Dogress, Doggo, 01 and 02 to protect the compound from anyone who decides to break in and steal a child.

BP and BB are also hired their but only part time, BP to cook and BB to give out nice cream.

Grillby

Grillby owns a bar and runs an armory shop in the basement, though it sells more than just guns and weapons. He also sells armor and weapons that help amplify a monster’s magic power. Grillby is a huge flirt with the women around his shop, very aggressive but smooth when it comes to his slick way of speaking. He’s mostly a giant dickhead to men and tries to be much sweeter with women, showing his true colors whenever some smart mouth talks shit to the wrong person. He’s the best sharp shooter in the business, known by everyone is “One Shot Grillb”.

The only person he gets along with is Sans, being his friend and best customer, letting him stay in the bar to drink as much spiked mustard as he wants. Whenever Sans gets drunk, he opens up to Grillby more and more, though the arms dealer never brings it up after he’s sobered up.

Grillby ends up buying a Forsaken Child who has the magic of molten metal. He specifically wanted him in order for the boy to make custom weapons for those who wanted them, which isn’t a scarce request. Grillby calls him Tempest, mostly to mess around with him and joke about the fact he is nothing like a tempest. He gives him room, board and money for working for him, treating him like an actual living being even in front of his customers. Grillby doesn’t care that he’s Forsaken, he believes that the boy has talent and wants him to use it anyway possible. He also won’t allow him to fight in the Temple, warning Asgore if he makes him fight that he will pay if he breaks his workers hands.

Joshua “Tempest”

A mysterious Forsaken Child who is brought to Grillby’s by one of Toriel’s guards. He doesn’t speak at all and has a black mask that covers from his nose to his chin. It hides whatever damage or defect he has from before the orphanage. The only thing he does to communicate is sign language or drawing out what he’s trying to say, which is enough for most people to understand. He doesn’t know how to read or write.

When first meeting, Arcadia and Joshua have an instant connection with each other, sitting in front of the other without saying a word. They do this for the first couple of meetings and then Arcadia finds out that he cannot speak and she can’t understand his signing...this makes her want to learn it. Having never seen another Forsaken Child, Arcadia wants to learn everything there is to learn so she’s desperate to ask him about his life and where he’s been. They both teach each other something: Arcadia teaching Joshua how to read and write and Joshua teaching Arcadia how to sign.

Joshua is always keeping Grillby in line, making sure he doesn’t flirt too much with the customers when they’re looking for something, He always thumps him on the head if he tries to get hansy, and Grillby always grumbles about his annoying ‘little brother’. Whenever someone thinks they can go after Joshua for being Forsaken, Grillby alwaus steps in and warns them to watch what they say before he ‘shoots them full of holes’, they shut up real quick after that.

Whenever Arcadia comes over, Grillby tries to flirt with the little miss but Joshua makes sure to stop him before he gets too touchy. Joshua listens to Arcadia while it works, listening to her vent about Sans and the fact she knows she doesn’t belong there...that she doesn’t fit in anywhere. He always tells her the same thing, “they love you”.

He’s a very calm, rational and cool boy who would rather work than sit around. He has a passion for making things with his magic, creating beautiful pieces with the tools Grillby gives him to work with. It’s hard to upset him, even if you do he will never show it, he’ll merely brush it off as though it never happened.

Unlike most Forsaken Children, Joshua has more monster features than he does human. His skin is a dark grey, his hair is a mixture of orange, red and yellow as if it were molten metal and his eyes have red irises and black sclera. Most people mistake him for a real monster until they take a closer look at his form.

Arcadia “Wretched”

The main protagonist of the story, known for being sickly and Forsaken, she was taken in by W.D Gaster and his two boys when she was just born. She’s a very soft spoken, timid and well behaved child who only has a tendency to be aggressive when she has to take her ‘battery acid medicine’ and when forced to fight in the Temple.

Since she is half human and half monster, her magic is much stronger than a normal monsters since the human part of her soul is powering her magic and the monster part is keeping the magic stable. Her magic is creating red crystals that are fairly hard to break, so whenever she makes them she saved them to use them as weapons during her fights.

She isn’t conscious when she’s fighting, having had Gaster implant a device into her brain that shuts her mind off but keeps her body moving. At first, it was only her fight or flight sensory system keeping her fighting but something else has awoken in her that helps her now. This device is so that she doesn’t have to witness the fights or deal with the memories of killing other humans but she can’t ignore the marks left behind from the fights. She always takes in the wounds that the loser left on her, seeing how hard they fought and wanted to live but ended up dying at her hands. This always makes her puke.

She didn’t even realize she wasn’t a skeleton until she was twelve, when Sans told her she would never be one of them due to the fact she as part human. She never forgot that, never looked at herself the same way anymore. She loves all of them like they were her true family, even Sans who said such a terrible thing to her, remembering him for who he was before he became bitter.

She has always clung onto Papyrus, since he was the only one around for her from the time of twelve until present time, taking care of her and being the brother she needed him to be. He taught her everything she knows and in doing so, she drove out his loneliness and his feeling of inferiority. They always helped the other in some way, shape or form.

She and Sans had been close at one point, coming to the point where she was sure she was in love with him...but it all ended in tragedy when he suddenly rejected her and never spoke kindly to her again. Now they have a very tense relationship, Arcadia always trying not to get screamed at by him for breathing the same air. She only speaks about their relationship to Joshua who can never really give her any advice on how to fix the relationship, only to keep trying.

Arcadia and Gaster are the closest of the four, having a very strong father daughter relationship from the very beginning. He absolutely adores her, finding that she looks so much like her mother and nothing like her father other than the marks on her face. He has a tendency of ignoring the boys calls for him but when his sweet girl calls for him he has to make sure nothing has happened to her. She spends time with him whenever she can, even sneaking into the lab to force her presence onto him whenever she thinks he needs it most. She knows that he’s struggling with something but he never tells her, not wanting to upset her with his woes.

She knows nothing about her parents, just knowing that she looks like her mother. She likes to stare at herself in the mirror and imagine her mother...what she looked like when she was around. She also doesn’t know her mother is dead or that Gaster slaughtered her father after finding out that he’d been the one to kill her. She was told that her mother had given her to Gaster because she knew it would be safer for her there than anywhere else, which wasn’t a lie. She only brings her up around Gaster, hoping he will tell her more about her.

She wants to make the world a place where monsters and humans no longer fight, just be at peace. She is one of the Seven Lights.

Mettaton and Nabstablook

Mettaton is the live entertainment at the Temple, doing acts while they take the bodies of the dead out of the ring. He doesn’t leave his room often, not wanting to be touched by any unclean hands or to breathe the air of commoners

Nabstablook is the DJ of the Temple, living with Mettaton in the Temple. He very rude and rotten whenever he’s around others, so most people don’t invite him to after parties.

Undyne and Alphys:

Undyne is still a loyal follower of Asgore, keeping guard of him whenever he isn’t in his castle. She’s still one of the best fighters the Temple has seen and being teamed up with Papyrus, they are almost unstoppable. She and Papyrus are close, though he isn’t close to her partner Alphys but doesn’t truly mind her in the end. Undyne is a very funny, headstrong, stubborn girl who will do anything to protect the people she holds dear.

She doesn’t seem to like Sans much, but neither does he.

She finds Arcadia interesting, watching the way she fights and even makes comments to Pap about how her style is similar to his. Whenever she sees Arcadia, she has a habit of ruffling her hair and congratulating her for not dying.

She is truly in love with Alphys, always shouting her name after every victory to make sure she knows that it was all for her. She’s very open about her love and makes sure no one makes googly eyes at her girl.

Alphys is a little more reserved than Undyne and doesn’t fight like she does, she merely makes new equipment for her love. She has a habit of making too many gadgets but Undyne uses them all to test them out and their effectiveness...even though most of them do the opposite of what they’re supposed too.

Flowey/Asriel

Wants Arcadia to take Asgore down by finding the other Six Lights.

Temmie

Da true villain in the end.

#undertaleau #darkfell #fightfell #undertale #undertaleoc #fellsans #fellpapyrus #fellgaster #fellundyne #fellalphys #fellasgore #felltoriel

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wings-of-life · 7 years

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Chapter 30 - Reveal

It was still early when I woke up, Sans fast asleep beside me. I didn’t feel like getting up, but Molly needed to get her morning walk. With a sigh, I quietly got out of bed and slipped on a shirt and a pair of sweatpants. Postponing my shower in favour of letting Sans sleep a little longer. As well as to postpone having to talk about last night.

Molly opened her eyes as I entered the living room, but didn’t get up just yet. Walking into the kitchen I started up the coffee maker and placed two cups as well as the breakfast options I had on the counter. Just in case Sans would wake up before I would get back. Molly sat just outside of the kitchen area with her lease in her mouth, her tail wagging back and forward as the first drips of coffee hit the coffee pot.

It was a watery cold morning. Dark clouds blocking most of the sun giving everything a grey filter. It wouldn’t be long before the storm that had been predicted would break loose. Yet I decided to extend Molly’s morning walk and go by Muffet’s bakery. She was far from cheap but there was no denying that her baked goods were the best in town. That is if you could get past the mental hurdle of eating food that was made by and with spiders. That last part was still weird to me, but I never dared ask about it. The spider-muffin-pet-thing that wandered around the shop freaked me out too much to linger and ask such trivial questions.

The downpour started before we could get back to the flat, making us run the last few blocks. Molly loved running and didn’t seem to mind the rain, her tongue hanging happily from her smiling mouth. When we finally did arrive at the flat she just shook the water from her coat, soaking me further, still smiling. Unable to actually get mad at her I just sighed and I wiped the water of my shades on the dry part of my shirt. Glad that I hadn’t bothered taking a shower yet.

Sans was sitting at the dining table a cup of coffee before him and a bottle of ketchup in his hand. He took a swig as we came in. I recognised the bottle as the one I had in my fridge, feeling a little dumb for not having put it on the counter as well. His eye lights flickered to me as I walked over to the counter and added the fresh bread and croissants to the breakfast options. Pouring myself a cup of coffee I could see the light of his eyes in the reflection of the coffee pot as the lingered on my hips. Making me aware of how my now soaked sweatpants left little to the imagination. I turned around, using my cup to warm my hands, and leaned against the counter. His eyes shot up to mine. The silence stretched on, both of us unwilling to break it.

Ultimately it was a small whine that did. Molly was sitting by her empty food bowl looking up at me. I had been too preoccupied with Sans’s presence to remember to give her breakfast. Putting my cup back down on the counter I moved to the cupboard with the dog food and gave her a bit extra as well as a quick scratch behind her ears.

“Sans, if you don’t say what you are going to say within the next minute I’m going to take a shower.”

I didn’t look at him as I said that. The tension that the silence had brought made me unwilling to do so. I picked my cup of coffee back up as I started the mental countdown. His eyes were on the cup before him. The minute came and went and he still hadn’t said a word, which surprised me. Downing my coffee in one go, I savoured the warm spot it created in my belly. He had had his chance. I could feel his eyes follow me as I walked into the bedroom. Yet, the silence stretched on.

I was hyper-aware of his presence in my living room as I showered. My mind kept returning to last night. It had been a very interesting experience. His skilful teasing had made it clear that I hadn’t been the first human he had spent the night with. It was a little too easy to remember what it felt like, having his hands roam my body. With a groan, I rubbed my forehead, a little bothered that my mind was so eager on remembering. Shaking my head, I grabbed the bottle of shampoo. It had just been too long.

I don’t know what had prompted him to suddenly start moving, but I could feel his soul approaching. The heavy rain hitting the windows masking the sound of his light footsteps on the laminate floor. I didn’t wear anything more than a thong and a towel turban. Yet, I didn’t move to cover up. After all, it wasn’t like there was anything he hadn’t already seen. As he came to a stop in the open doorway I looked over my shoulder and raised my brows at him. He didn’t seem to notice I was pretty much naked. His eye lights didn’t wander. Instead, there was a clinical look on his face as he looked at my back.

“those aren’t tattoos.”

It wasn’t a question. I didn’t respond. Waiting for him to continue to talk now that he had finally decided to do so.

“both papyrus and undyne swear having seen a pair of bright white wings as they came to after you had saved them from dusting. what they saw is real, isn’t it? those wings on your back are real, aren’t they? i could sense the tell-tale buzz of magic when i touched them last night.”

“I don’t know why they saw wings. From what I understand it’s a side effect of using ‘the Breath of Life’. But yeah, they are real. Don’t ask me to show them though. I don’t know how to summon them… I know I can… I just don’t know how… The few memories I have of having them out are like remembering a dream…”

While he mulled over this new information I put on a bra and a pair of jeans. Grabbing a blouse from my closet I turned around while putting it on. His eyes snapped back into focus, gaze above my breasts, on the scar there. Making me button up immediately. His eyes moved to my face, but I looked away. Instead, I pulled my hair from the now damp towel, tossing it on my bed. I’d deal with it later.

“that scar…”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“your soul caused it, didn’t it?”

“Sans…”

He remained quiet and I tried to move passed him, needing another cup of coffee and some breakfast. He stepped in front of me. His eyes almost perfectly level with the scar. The clinical look still on his face as he undid the buttons that covered it. I took a shaky breath as he studied the smooth, raised, uneven bumps of skin on my chest with its faint green centre. The tops of his fingers hovered just above it, I didn’t dare breathe. The scar tissue was just as sensitive as my soul.

“I know I’m a freak, but could you just stop staring.”

His eyes snapped up to look at me and I looked away, grabbing my wrist, gripping the scars there. My eyes started to sting and I clenched my teeth. I wasn’t going to cry. Bony fingers wedged themselves underneath mine breaking the death grip I had on my wrist. As they took a hold of my hand. The fingers of his other hand gently grabbed my chin and turned my head back until I had to look at him. I could feel myself shake a little against his calm hands, tears forming in my eyes.

“is that it? is that why you were acting self-destructive last night? because you think you are a freak?”

“Going out to a nightclub isn’t self-destructive behaviour!”

“it is if you are only going to get yourself under influence of drugs and alcohol and willing to sleep with anyone wanting to get into your pants.”

“That’s rich coming from the guy who got drunk himself and fucked me less than twelve hours ago!”

“that is not the point and you know it.”

“Then what is the point?!”

“the point is that it’s not good for you.”

“It’s been plenty good the past few years!”

“angel, listen to me. you deserve better.”

“Shut up.”

“you are worth more than a drunken one-night-stand with some random guy.”

“Shut up…”

“you are not a freak. you are a beautiful, smart, young woman with whom i had the fortune to have spent a drunken night with. but more importantly, i have the privilege of knowing and being able to call my friend. yes, you are unlike anything known to monster or humankind, but that does not make you a freak or anything unworthy of love.”

“Shut up!”

“you’ve come so far from the scared little girl that i pranked with a whoopee cushion. you’ve got food, drink, a place to call home, friends that really care about you… stop being so harsh on yourself. you deserve this. you deserve love. i know it’s not easy, but you’ve got to believe me when i say that you are not a freak.”

“Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!”

My knees gave out on me. Sans caught me before they could hit the floor, holding me tight as he gently guided me to sit on the couch. I clung onto him as if my life depended upon it, sobbing uncontrollably into his shoulder. Molly’s head rested on my knees, ears low.

#Wings of Life story #WoL #Undertale au #fanfic #writing #Angel #Sans #Molly

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