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#undertale fanfics
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May I ask for the new soulmate prompt with stretch?
You may :)
Words: 839
Learning that any pain he felt, his 'soulmate' would feel the same pain, made Stretch nervous. Why was that a thing? Was it so you could protect them? Yeah, that's great and all but you know what? It could have started AFTER they met each other.
At first, he wasn't too nervous about it. A small cut here and there, a bruise here, a mark there. Simple stuff... but then the resets started to happen. He kept dying and getting hurt, and he knew that his future datemate would feel that, and they most likely remembered everything.
Unless the resets affected them as well? Would they be a monster or... a human? He liked monsters more than he liked humans but hey, maybe... it would work out well? 
Sometimes he would keep an eye out for anyone that had matching marks to him, and if he ever hurt himself on accident, he would look around to see if anyone reacted... even if he was alone. 
At times, when he felt pain but there was no reason for it, he would smile. It meant that his datemate was still alive. If it was a big pain he wouldn't be as happy and be worried about them but there wasn't anything he could do.
And he hated it. 
He wished that there was something he could do to stop the pain, stop the resets. Nothing he did stopped it though! It was... it was maddening. 
The only thing holding him together was his brother and how excited he was to get to the overground, and the rabbit that understood where he was coming from.
He spoke about this cat that was his soulmate, the nice cream guy. A rabbit and a cat, who would have guessed that? 
Stretch spoke about what he would want from a datemate, how someone would have to be to catch his eye... if he even wanted a soulmate. The bunny dude told him that it was sorta, you know, a sealed deal. 
You can't just NOT have a soulmate. It's part of you, it has to be part of you. He said that he knew, but he could still think.
"Yeah, whatever you say, dude," he says, blowing out smoke, and looking up at the roof. Stretch watched as the smoke disappeared.
He should go to Muffet's. 
That had been months and months ago, more resets happened, until this one. In this one, they got above ground, and the kid said that they were sorry to him about the resets, and explained that they weren't going to do it anymore.
This was the last one and even broke the reset button to prove it. "Now... I can't reset any more. This is it"
He felt like he wanted to cry when he saw them do it. It scared him, but damn it, if he wasn't happy too! This was finally it! They... they were free.
He went home that night and hugged his brother for the first time in... a long time. Really hugged him, and Blueberry asked him if he was okay. What's wrong? Why are you wet? Yeah, Stretch was crying.
And then he met them. 
It was on a day just like all the others above ground, he went to therapy, went to the store, and went home. Yet, when he went to the store; he bumped his leg against the edge of the holder of oranges, making a soft hiss sound between his teeth.
"Shit" he mumbles, but paused when he heard someone else make the same sound, and he turns his head to see them rubbing their leg. The same spot that he hit. 
Wait...
He slowly moves his hand to hit it against the counter, just hard enough to cause a small amount of pain, and they change their attention to their hand. They were frowning a little, rubbing it. 
Holy shit... that was his soulmate!
He gulps down his nerves, his eyes shooting down to the handbasket. Should he go to talk to them? Should he just... leave? What should he do? Slowly he stood up, picked up his basket, and walked over to them.
"You okay?" 
They jump, looking over at him, making a soft sound when they saw him. Most likely, you know, cause he's a monster. Humans were still trying to get used to that idea. "Uh... Yeah, I'm fine. I guess my soulmate bumped into something" they let out a little laugh.
He copied the small laugh, nodding a little, his cheeks flushing "Yeah I... I'm sorry about that" he clears his throat, "Gotta... hand it to ya, you're good at handling that sorta stuff" he couldn't stop the puns, not his fault. "I'm Stretch I think I might be your soulmate"
Damn it Stretch, why are you being so forward? He thought to himself, his mind rushing with different thoughts. What if they called him crazy and left?! He should have made more small talk.
Now just to wait and see how they react...
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dryemiddi · 2 years
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Anyone got good Undertale AU fanfics they can recommend? SFW only please <3 
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yeehawpim · 1 year
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a comic about my weird irreverence for canon
go write a bad ending AU! ship your self-insert oc with your favourite villain!! the world's your oyster!!!
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fanartsandstuff · 2 months
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I just love ao3 authors
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We live in a beautiful era of people not giving a single fuck
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yxkipop · 3 months
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I WORKED ON THIS ALL THE WAY UP TO 3 AM AND I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT POSSESSED ME. Anyways, this was probably the most fun I've ever had finishing a drawing that I was half asleep for, so yeah ^^
Ink sans was made by Comyet
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nariism · 2 months
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letters from heaven — g. satoru
"i think i'm in love with you" + "wait, don't pull away... not yet." + oblivious pining
synopsis. love tastes like chocolate ganache topped with fresh strawberries. that was satoru's first thought when he accidentally blew your cake shop into smithereens.
wc. 2.4k
— for the lovely @hanrinz 🎀 | event masterlist ✉️
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
If you had asked Gojo Satoru what love tasted like two years ago, he would have answered with a lump in his throat.
Like curses, he would have told you. Like death and destruction. Fire and ash. 
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Satoru was surrounded by love from his very conception.
Wrapped in silk blankets and bathed in warm milk when he was born into this world—it was as if the nurses thought he had been spoonfed ambrosia by the gods themselves.
He knew what it was like to have his entire clan at his feet with their foreheads pressed to the floor; to be dressed in the finest cloth and only by the most nimble hands; to get anything and everything he ever wanted without question. 
He was above everyone and had the eyes to prove it. He knew love like it was his only purpose.
Satoru was always a head in the clouds kind of guy. He understood his place in the world better than anyone else. That he was special. Gifted. Born with a blessing that only happens once in a millennium.
He hated the righteous above all. The ones who wanted to change the world that was promised to him from the moment he took his first breath. It was insulting; an act of defiance against the gods. Against him.
That is why he hated Geto Suguru—someone who wanted to change the world.
Satoru believed that he was too down to earth. It irritated him. But he never stopped being surrounded by love and never stopped loving, either.
For some reason, there was a strange comfort in standing alongside another. 
Perhaps it was that Suguru had never once bowed down before him—the fact that he had gotten the chance to memorize every inch of his beautiful face. Or maybe it was the tender way he had spoken his name, so soft and filled with adoration.
For the first time in his life, he felt like he was more than just his eyes.
Satoru adored and despised every part of Geto Suguru. He always would, even in death.
He thought that secret would die with him. That there was no one else worthy of standing by his side. He never thought he was capable of loving another again.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
(He was about to learn that love would loom over him wherever he went. It would chase him relentlessly, even if it were to the ends of the earth.
After all, Gojo Satoru was born to be enveloped in silk and sugar and everything wonderful in the world.)
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Love tastes like chocolate ganache topped with fresh strawberries.
That was Satoru's first thought when he accidentally blew your cake shop into smithereens with a misfired blast of energy. 
There was nothing particularly spectacular about you. There you were: horrified, head in your hands, crying over the phone to what he presumed to be your parents. He'd never seen someone doused in flour like you before, as if you had been plucked straight out of a cartoon.
Yet he remembers that his breath was stolen from him the way books described it.
Your very existence felt like it was built up from cubes of sugar. He was embarrassed that it was his first impression while you glared horribly at him.
The lawsuit came in the mail a few days later.
He paid, of course, without argument. And he tried to get your number afterwards because he really wanted to try that cake you were decorating before he blasted your shop to pieces.
You slapped him across the face and he let you. He even released his technique just so you could.
To your dismay, he kept showing up at the shop after it had been rebuilt. But he was a paying customer, and who were you to deny him a slice of butterscotch pie?
Still, he laughed at your ever-growing irritation with his presence. How he would preorder cakes days in advance just so you could anticipate his arrival. The way he would drop an extra five thousand yen on the counter and tell you to keep the change.
"Don't make me get a restraining order," you had once threatened him while he browsed the cupcake selection for the day.
"You wouldn't," he sang. And you didn't, because he knew your type.
You were the opposite of the one he loved most in the world. You wanted to make as little of a splash as you could—to bake pies and frost cakes with buttercream roses and wipe down your counters until they sparkled.
You knew your place in the world just as much as he knew his. And it seemed to be right behind the counter with a scowl on your face because of another poor attempt at flirting.
You didn't want to change the world. You just wanted to live in it, flour and all.
He found comfort in that, too.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Satoru became your midday companion when business slowed down. The sound of the bell strung to your front entrance brought you comfort when you were stressed about your little shop.
A part of you knew that this man was no ordinary human being. His eyes shimmered bluer than the sky when he would look at you with affection, nearly making your knees buckle beneath you on more than one occasion.
"What do you do at work?" You asked him curiously one afternoon as he sat on a stool watching you mindlessly pipe frosting.
"...Nothing important," he panicked, the thought of scaring you away when you had just started opening up to him too much for him to handle.
"Nothing important," you hummed, repeating his words until your eyes narrowed. "You're lying."
"I am," he admitted shamelessly.
You looked at him in confusion, not missing the way he avoided making eye contact by burrowing his head into his arms. Through the glass of your display case, you could see his shoulders bunch up in distress.
You decided to drop it. It wasn't important.
"Here," you said softly, reaching around the glass separating you to place a dessert in front of him. "Don't worry about it."
Satoru gazed at the plate before him. Chocolate ganache and strawberries layered between sponge cake.
"This is for me?" He asked, poking at it with the fork as a grin split his cheeks.
"Just for you," you smiled. "As an apology for slapping you."
"I deserved it. I blew up your shop."
Your smile only deepened. "Sometimes things need to be destroyed to be rebuilt even better."
The strongest Jujutsu Sorcerer of his time was reduced to a puddle at your next words,
"I met you, after all. Didn't I?"
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Love tastes like champagne-raspberry truffles and cappuccino chocolates.
On the day he planned to confess, you unconvincingly glared at him as he approached you with his hands behind his back.
You pursed your lips, expecting him to demand you make him something out of season. Outlandish requests were not new from him, but you always managed to whip up something that had fruits imported from South America, or using that expensive hojicha he insisted you take off his hands.
Instead, he held out a box of lavish chocolates he bought in Belgium.
Nervousness replaced the confidence that was permanently etched into his every feature, and your expression melted into something mellower than the warmth simmering in the pit of Satoru's tummy.
He had been pining for you for months. There was something about your company that made him feel whole again—more whole than he had been in all the time since Geto Suguru left this earth.
You laughed as if it were a joke, using your palm to hide how you flushed slightly.
"Satoru..." You quirked a brow. "What's this?"
The way you said his name stuck arrows through his heart. You could act like you hated him all you wanted, but the way you smiled at him when he wasn't being a prick was enough for him to feel comforted.
"Chocolates from Europe," he straightened up, trying to shake off his nerves.
"Why?"
Why? His tongue pressed to the roof of his mouth and he sucked on it in anxious thought, suddenly unsure of the right thing to say even though he had practiced all night.
Wasn't it obvious that he liked you?
You took the box from his hands and placed it down on the counter. Then you rounded it, picked up your spatula, and continued folding your meringue.
Satoru's silence made you glance back up, scrutinizing his downcast, troubled expression. You huffed through your nose with an exasperated little shake of the head.
"Save some nice things for yourself, too."
He was surprised when you reappeared in front of him. His eyes trailed from your sneakers, up your dirty apron to your smiling face.
Chocolate was melting between your fingers.
His grunts of protest were muffled as you stuck the treat against his lips, forcing it into his mouth. He glared at you, but ate it anyway.
Sugar coated his tongue and eased his nerves. You only laughed at his fluster.
He pinched your cheek.
You didn't know that Satoru already had everything else he ever needed. The only thing left was standing right in front of him.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Love is easy to taste when it's on your lips.
At least, that was the thought driving Satoru insane.
He didn't know when such an obsessive idea started plaguing him, or how to remedy it. For the first time in his life, he felt like a boy with a silly, childish crush.
Worst of all, you seemed none the wiser. All his attempts to make a move on you fell flat—though, he wasn't very good at following through with them in the first place.
It culminated in his final attempt to rid the terrible thought from his mind: he was going to avoid you at all costs until it blew over.
If he could just have the time to get over you, to move on from his feelings, he could probably act with some normalcy around you again. It was tiresome to tread on eggshells around you, even if you were blissfully unaware of it.
You, however, did not take his avoidance very well. He did not see that coming.
Satoru's phone rang at 3:24 am, well past your store hours. In fact, you were supposed to be waking up in another hour and a half to get all your prep done.
"Hello?" Your timid voice crackled through the static of his phone and he jolted upright, fisting his blanket in anticipation. "Satoru? Are you up?"
He swallowed thickly, mouth moving to formulate an answer with a strange amount of effort. "Yeah," he said, voice hoarse from sleep.
The other end of the line was silent for another moment before there was a loud crash, and he could make out the distinct clatter of metal bowls hitting tile.
He could imagine you standing there in defeat, surrounded by dirty dishes and drowning in work, trying to catch up for the next morning.
The thought was enough for him to rip out of his sheets, a flurry of limbs as he got dressed to find you.
"Hang on," he told you over the phone, then hung up.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
You had not anticipated that Satoru's very obvious avoidance would take such a toll on you.
You'd let it escalate until you were overwhelmed with emotion, unfocused at work, and not able to untangle the feelings you had for him.
And now he was standing in your shop again, helping you pick up everything you had clumsily scattered across the ground.
Whipped cream and icing spilled on the floor, painting the tile an array of pastel colours. You grimaced at the mess, thinking maybe you should just close the shop for the day and take a vacation.
Satoru was dutifully wiping up cream as if he were being paid to do it. But he wasn't—he was just too kind to you. Too generous. You desperately wished he would get mad at you for waking him in the middle of the night.
Instead, he only seemed concentrated and slightly concerned.
"That's enough," you told him quietly, standing up to discard the towels you used. "I'll clean up the rest tomorrow."
Satoru stood up with you, trying to decipher the doomstruck expression on your face.
"I'll come by tomorrow to help."
You shook your head. "It's okay, you've done so much already. Thank you."
Everything about him had grown so familiar, so warm. You missed him more than you cared to admit, and that scared you. In the three weeks since you had last seen him, it finally came crashing down on you.
You liked Satoru.
The thought was heady and overwhelming in your mind. You stumbled a bit and he caught you by the shoulders.
"Woah there," he chuckled lightly, finally able to make out the look in your eyes.
"Sato—" your lip wobbled and he stopped it with his thumb. Then, he used his fingers to clean up the icing decorating your face.
"I got you."
He snorted softly at your dazed expression, drawing away from you. Your hands shot up to grasp at him, keeping him in your bubble. 
"Please don't pull away."
Satoru stilled, letting you drag him back into your personal space. "M'not going anywhere."
You weakly punched him in the chest, fist remaining there for a moment before you let it fall limp. Glaring at him, you sniffled.
"You're avoiding me."
"I was," he admitted.
"What happened?"
"I realized that I liked you a lot more than I thought."
Silence hugged your bodies, heavy and stiff. You blinked at him in surprise, having trouble processing his words.
"H-Huh?"
"I like you," he said again, more adamant. More confident.
"Oh," you breathed. Heat enveloped Satoru's heart at how relieved you sounded. "That makes me..."
Your face morphed from relief to realization. Realization of the situation, of how close your bodies were.
"Really happy," you concluded, squeezing your eyes shut as his hands adjusted to cup your face a little more intimately.
He kissed the apple of your cheek, making sure not to skip over the spot where icing lingered.
The thought entered his mind: I am exactly where I need to be.
Gojo Satoru was born to be loved. It tastes like maple buttercream. And it's spilled all over the floor, stained on his hands and knees. Between his fingers. Melting on his tongue.
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luciluck2046 · 20 days
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for @akanemnon :)
Me every time Twin Runes is getting updated:
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(I finally learned how to draw side profiles :D but this is just a sketch lol)
og meme:
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Exhausted, Papyrus fell on his knees in the dust. It was covering everything in the room, from the floor to the ceiling. The main door was gone, like most of the windows. Thankfully, no monster tried to enter the balcony, too high. Papyrus crawled to pick up the door, still in one piece by some miracle, and put it in its place. The hinges were gone with a part of the wall, but he forced it to hold by nailing it with some planks that held the windows closed and was now on the floor.
He picked up his phone, hidden deep in his armor. His hands were still shaking with the adrenaline. Sans left about twenty messages, asking if he was fine, then warning him Frisk was gone, then asking him again if he was alright, more and more distressed as the hours went by.
Papyrus simply sent: "Alive. Frisk here." before walking to the kitchen to make sure the child was fine. Several bullets ricocheted against the closet door, but it faced the brunt efficiently. He cleared the chairs out of the way and opened the door, maybe too brutally.
Frisk screamed out of terror and threw themselves in the back of the cabinet. They curled up on themselves, hands on the head, sobbing uncontrollably. They were shaking as well.
Papyrus flinched. He saw himself at five years old, in the same position, as Sans was screaming and fighting for their lives in the living room. This was not a world to grow up. No child should ever be born in this hellish place. Bitter, he felt his soul squeezed painfully. It was his fault. He should have brought the child back to the Ruins. Frisk shouldn't have assisted to any of this.
The skeleton kneeled at their level. He never had been really talented to comfort people.
"Frisk? It's over, they're gone. You can come out."
He leaned a hand towards the human. Frisk kicked it away and tried to get as far as they could from him in the closet. Papyrus tried to stay neutral, but his face betrayed for a few seconds how much it hurt him. He didn't want Frisk to be scared of him. Not after everything they went through to protect them.
The skeleton looked around for a second and noticed a hole in the closet door. Small, but enough for a child to witness everything that happened outside. Frisk saw him slaughter attackers and end monsters on the floor without mercy. Papyrus felt guilty. He gave the child some space and sat in front of the closet, unsure what to do.
No Weakness, Chapter 3.
_______________________________________
Hello, hello!
I commissioned this masterpiece to @seirindono, a French (yeah, team French!) illustrator who works on a multi AU universe called The Missing Scarf, which is a banger. Really cool comic with lots of great characters that you really want to read. Go read it!
I wasn't sure on which fic I wanted a drawing at first, but since we already got one for Horrortale: Rotten Apple (thanks again Zeragii, love you), why not No Weakness?
It's a post-pacific Underfell fic where instead of breaking the Barrier, Sans refused Frisk to fight Asgore and brought them back in safety to Toriel. Now Papyrus, Undyne, Alphys, Mettaton, Toriel and Sans are hiding the child away, trying not to get killed.
The story however is about Undyne and Papyrus' friendship. After Papyrus surprises Undyne kissing Asgore, he is promoted to general of the Royal Guard. Except Papyrus knows something is really wrong here, since that role was obviously supposed to Undyne's. But the more he tries to understand, the more people try to dissuade him from learning more. All the hints lead to Asgore, but how to reach the monarch without getting himself killed, and by extension, those he cares the most about? Between his duty and his friendship, Papyrus will have to make a choice.
I asked for one of my favorite parts ever, which is the moment Frisk realizes how things really work in Underfell, after witnessing Papyrus committing carnage right after he got promoted to General. It's tradition :D
Anyway, if you want to read the story, it's right here. I'm on summer break right now, but new chapters are coming soon!
Thanks again to Seirindono for their amazing work, I love it so much <3 Really great artist, don't hesitate to commission them! They're really nice and pays great attention to details. It was really cool collaborating with you <3
Go send them some love!
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aylish91 · 1 year
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New chapter incoming!!
Sea Of Hope Chapter 8
Previous Next SOH Master Grandmaster
This masterful piece of art was done by @aoi-kanna as a commission. They are truly talented and I appreciate all the hard work they put into making this for me. Go check them out, they are absolutely wonderful!!!
Story below or AO3 above.
~~~
While Axe checked you over, Edge grabbed Red by the back of the neck and stormed down the main hatch, loudly yelling at the rest of the crew to mind their own business as they scurried out of his way. For the most part, Red's protests went unheard as he was dragged down the steep steps. Blue, on the other hand, had hesitantly approached Papyrus, whispering something before they too turned and headed past the hatch, disappearing through a pair of doors into the upper levels of the ship. 
The clearing of a throat had you tensing and pressing closer to Axe. Black had once again gotten closer than you were comfortable with, standing only a couple paces away. “AS HEARTWARMING AS THIS IS, IT IS QUICKLY BECOMING LATE AND THE LADY STILL NEEDS ADEQUATE DRESS. MY BROTHER’S COAT IS HARDLY A FITTING SUBSTITUTE.”  
Rus chuckled beside him. However, when he made to comment, a look from Black had him looking down instead. 
Axe narrowed his sockets. “Don’t know where you’re planning on get’n somethin. Ain’t exactly swimmin in extras and you’ve refused to mend mine so I could give it to her.”  
Black scoffed. “YOU FAILED TO MENTION IT WAS FOR YOUR MARKED. YOU HAVE ALSO YET TO COMPLETE THE TASK I ASKED OF YOU. I DID NOT SEE THE POINT IN TURNING IN YOUR FAVOR WHEN MY OWN HAD BEEN UNMET.” 
“Been busy.” 
“AS WE’VE ALL.” 
Something shifted in the air, both of their eyelights brightening. Rus glared, moving closer to his brother. It took Crooks placing a hand on Axe’s shoulder for the two to back down. 
“Petty bastard.” 
“WHEN IT SUITS ME.” With a flourish of a hand and a half step back, he indicated the direction of the doors, continuing to meet Axe’s gaze. “NOW, I BELIEVE WE SHOULD ATTEMPT TO FIND SOMETHING MORE SUITABLE UNTIL NEXT WE MAKE PORT. SURELY YOU CAN AGREE IT WOULD BE IN EVERYONE’S BEST INTEREST.”  
“Fine, but we’re not leadin’.” You could hear the creak of Axe’s teeth. 
“OF COURSE.” With a tight turn, Black nodded, marching forward with Rus trailing behind with a wink. "AS YOU WISH." 
Axe refused to move at first, tugging his empty socket and prompting a sighing Crooks to nudge you both. "I Know You Don’t Like Him, But He Is Fair.” 
“Bastard never does anything fer free.” 
“And Yet, He Has A Point.”  
Neither you nor Axe was reassured but allowed him to guide you forward regardless. Crewmen brave enough to linger eyed your group with various degrees of emotion. When a dog monster growled, another was quick to slap the back of their head, nervously hunching at a glare from both of your skeleton friends. You tried not to show your fear or your growing limp as you passed, hoping Rus' long coat hid what you couldn’t. It didn't seem like a good idea to show weakness around others. The watchful eyes and aggressive postures spoke volumes to your already heightened nerves. Entering the ship did nothing to ease your discomfort.  
It felt cramped and pressing despite having more than enough space and light. Unlike the previous ship, several lanterns lit the expanse leaving no ominous shadows or darkened areas. You could easily see all the doors lining the walls as well as the beautifully carved and decorated windowed doors marking the end of the hall. Rus waited near the last door on the left.  
It was calm and warm, but you couldn’t shake off the feelings of danger. 
“Ya c’n go inside Darlin. Milord’s wait’n.” Rus stood to the side, motioning you inside the now open door. 
You looked to your companions. While Axe kept his eyelight on Rus, Crooks’ soft smile and nod gave you enough of a boost to cautiously cross the threshold. It smelled of lavender tinted with something you couldn’t quite place, the overall size relatively small. What looked like a narrow modified canopy bed connected to the wall was on your right. In front of you, under a single window, was a rather lovely desk intricately carved with polished knobs. To your immediate left was an open decorative chest shoved in the corner. Everything was of exquisite taste and quality, from the bedding and carvings on the furniture to the upholstery on the chair at the desk. The few trinkets left out were of fine gold or silver with glistening jewels. 
You jumped when the door closed behind you. Axe nor Crooks had made it inside. It had your stomach rolling with nerves. You did not anticipate having the others closed out. Having Black now between you and the only exit made it worse. His eyelights were too bright. 
Didn’t Rus call him a lord...? 
Your chest tightened at his approach, making sure to lower your gaze. 
“TRUE TO MY WORD, THAT HORROR’S GARMENT HAS BEEN MENDED. HAD I KNOWN IT WAS FOR SOMETHING LIKE THIS, I NEVER WOULD HAVE HELD ONTO IT.” In his hands was a large linen shirt, neatly folded and dark in color. Holding it out, he offered it to you. “PUT IT ON. I WILL ADJUST IT AS NEEDED AFTER.” 
You froze, intently focusing on the simple article of cloth. Was he expecting you to do it here and now? In front of him? Wasn’t it bad enough you were laid bare in front of all those on the deck, or stars, when you pressed yourself against Blue? At least Axe had good reason to see you. Multiple! To willingly undress now in the presence of a man other than your husband...  
By the angel, what would Axe think of all this? 
Black must have noticed your silent panicked uncertainty when you didn’t immediately take it. Clearing his throat, something in his tone changed. “I SHALL, OF COURSE, REFRAIN FROM LOOKING WHILE YOU DO SO. YOU MAY LEAVE MY BROTHER’S COAT ON THE CHAIR WHEN YOU ARE READY.” 
It was hard not to squirm. While that was greatly appreciated, it still felt uncomfortable. Could you trust his word? You hardly knew the man. Perhaps things may have felt different if the room wasn’t quite so stifling or the door hadn’t been shut so suddenly. 
Luckily, heavy thumps in the hall distracted Black enough for him to hand you the garment himself, squinting at the door behind him. He was just about to speak again when another set of thumps sounded, this time shaking the door. Growling, he finally turned when the muffled voices following the noise got angrier. 
You really didn’t want to do this right now. Not here. Not with all the uncertainties surrounding you.  
Taking a slow breath in, you let it out. The sooner you changed, the sooner you could be rid of these unsettling feelings. With unsteady fingers twitching against the fabric as you took one last glance at Black’s back. 
One more breath. 
The sound of your rattling bones was louder without the security of the coat. Placing it on the chair, you did your best to quickly dress.  
The feeling of fabric against your bones was surprisingly comforting as you pulled it over your head. True to Axe’s size, the shirt almost went to your knees. It was so large the fabric pooled on your much smaller frame and reminded you of the nightgowns you used to wear back at the manor. 
If only it wasn’t so short. 
Though your more private areas were covered, it was not good for a lady to show so much… leg. You tugged at the hem, the sleeves threatening to engulf your hands.  
“I’m dressed, my lord.” 
A calculated breath was your only answer before his eyelights found you, fuzzy with a slight warble. You had to second guess if you had seen them correctly, for the next moment they were back to their bright and sharp orbs. Getting closer, they traveled over you as he hummed, the heel of his boots clicking as he circled. If you had hair, it would have stood on end at the subtle brush of his hand against your back. 
“AS I EXPECTED.” 
You startled, yelping when he came around to lightly grip your hips. Instinctively, your hands came to your chest from the forwardness, sockets wide. He paid no mind, eyelights intent on the bunched fabric. He only let go to pull a satin rope from his pocket. 
You squeaked again when he reached around you to wrap it around your waist. 
“MUCH BETTER. HOWEVER," His gloved hands touched your elbows, slowly moving up your arms to grasp your hands for inspection. “YOUR MAGIC. IT IS MUCH TOO THIN…” He turned them over. “Hmmmmm. Knowing Him…” 
Your chest clenched. He was close enough you could feel his ambient heat and wisps of breath. 
Before Black could say or do anything else, his door nearly burst off its hinges, a very aggravated Axe forcing it open. Black pulled you into him with a snarl, eyelights vanishing with the click of his teeth. Stuck in a headlock was a disgruntled Rus, resigned to the hold around his neck. 
You didn’t know if you could physically handle any more stress.  
“BY THE ANGEL, YOU WILL REPLACE THAT LOCK IF YOU HAVE BROKEN IT!” 
Axe’s voice was low, grin tight as he took in the scene. “Don’t appreciate the closed door, Black. Hell ya think yer doin’ in here?” 
Black placed you behind him, grumbling a growl. “AS I STATED EARLIER, I HAVE GIVEN HER SOMETHING TO ADEQUATELY COVER HERSELF UNTIL WE CAN PROCURE SOMETHING MORE FITTING.”  
Axe narrowed his sockets at Black’s squared shoulders. For a split second, you could see the red orb of his eyelight flick over the man in front of you before it focused on you.  
“Sure that's all ya were doin’?” 
The fabric of Black’s gloves creaked. “IF YOU MUST KNOW, I WAS INSPECTING HER MAGIC FLOW. I’M NO EXPERT, BUT EVEN I CAN TELL IT’S RUNNING LOW. A MORE IMPORTANT QUESTION WOULD BE, WHY HAVEN’T YOU—” 
“I’ve been doin’ exactly what I need ta be. Don’t need ta explain myself either.” Rus stumbled into the room when Axe unceremoniously released him to motion to you. “Now, if yer done?” 
With a snarl, Black pointed a finger. “NOW SEE HERE YOU–” 
Instinctually, you reached out, stopping just before Black’s arm. “My lord, I!” You faltered at his abrupt attention, pulling back to dip your head in respect. “I thank you for your kindness, but I should return to my lord husband before any more misunderstandings occur.” 
His eyelights stuttered. “I, I BEG YOUR PARDON?” 
There was a beat of awkward silence before Axe broke into heavy laughter, the loudest and deepest you’ve heard from him. It was enough to warm your cheeks as he beckoned you out and away from the room. Black gaped, slack-jawed and sputtering as you passed. You were already being guided onto the deck by the time he was able to call out one last time from his doorway. 
“AXE! YOU WILL… THAT… YOU WILL EXPLAIN YOURSELF!” 
Axe only laughed harder, closing the doors behind you. 
The sun had mostly set by the time you stepped out into the humid sea air. You would have done anything in the past to be able to look up, out, and around but Axe was swift in guiding you down the main hatch. You didn’t want to linger longer than necessary anyway. 
You didn’t have Rus’s coat to hide under. 
You were grateful for the darkness once you were under. The lanterns were farther spread, some empty of light altogether. It helped ease your mind against the wandering eyes. Most gathered under the brightest lamps, playing cards at makeshift tables, drinking, and socializing while others lounged in hammocks hanging interspersed between the canons. While some watched you pass, Axe was surprisingly good at slipping through the darkest areas to avoid the unwanted attention.  
The closer you got to the front of the ship, the fewer people there were until you came upon barrels and crates stacked near and around an area quartered off by familiar heavy sheets. You could even recognize the stack you and Blue had hidden next to, the sheet on that side still halfway pulled down. Axe was kind enough to hold the flap for you to enter. 
Finally, you were able to relax the tension out of your shoulders and pained joints. You wanted to climb back into the hammock and rest your aching pelvis, maybe snuggle against Axe and his warmth. The way he moved about though had you gingerly sitting on his stool, setting it upright from where it had been knocked over. 
You wondered when that had occurred. What happened after you had been taken? 
... 
A quiet curse had you looking back at Axe as he re-fastened the makeshift wall. There were a few more rips in it than you remembered. If he had any sewing supplies, you would have to mend them. It was the least you could do as thanks. 
You let out a slow breath, peering down at your clenched fists. They were cold and stiff on your lap. Black had been interested in them. The lot of them had been interested in general, but he had seemed so focused. 
Your voice was soft, hesitant as you summoned the courage to speak. “Axe? I have so many questions, but I’m afraid… I don’t know if I’m allowed to ask.” 
Axe chuckled. “Don’t gotta be afraid with me, Dove. It’s good ta ask questions around here. The more ya know the better, good or bad. Don’t let anyone tell ya otherwise.” 
You picked at the hem of the shirt, smoothing it down as much as you could. “Is that true?" Axe simply grunted. Collecting yourself, you forced yourself to ask the questions burning your mind. "What is a Banthos? What does it mean to be one? And what did Black mean when he said my magic was too thin? I don’t have magic. I’m not… I’m not even a monster.” 
It was hard not to flinch when, from your peripherals, you saw him stop. His voice had become more serious but thankfully still soft.  
“The hell yer not. Listen, I don’t know what you’ve been told, where ya come from, or what ya been through. But you’re as much of a monster as the rest of us. You’re made of magic and hope just like me.” He came over to place your hand in his scarred one, taking a knee to look directly into your sockets. “We’re the same. Dust and all. It don’t matter about anything else. As fer your magic,” he rubbed his face with a frustrated sigh, “let me worry about that. Just know ya got it and I’m gonna make damn sure ta get it where it needs ta be.” 
You didn’t know what to say to that, but it sent a comforting feeling to your chest. He was always so warm. It reminded you of your mother.  
Nodding, you were about to ask about your first question when footsteps interrupted you. Axe stood, moving between you and the flap.  
“AXE, IT IS GETTING LATE. I HAVE TAKEN THE LIBERTY OF PREPARING SANS’ ROOM FOR THE LITTLE MISS. I HOPE YOU HAVEN’T FORGOTTEN.”  
Axe only slightly relaxed at the sound of Papyrus’ voice, not moving but calling out to the other skeleton. “I can take her when we’re ready. Just got a few–” he bristled when Papyrus entered and smiled down at you, hand twitching at his side –“more things ta take care of.” 
“AND WHAT MIGHT THAT BE SO I MAY HELP?” When Axe only grumbled, Papyrus took it upon himself to continue. “WELL, WHILE YOU FIGURE THINGS OUT, I SHALL MAKE SURE TO GET HER SAFELY TO HER NEW LODGINGS.” 
You both tensed. “Papyrus. Paps. At least let things settle before ya drag er away. You saw Sans. I don’t trust him.” 
Papyrus looked a little sheepish at the accusation. “I UNDERSTAND YOUR CONCERN, BUT I HAVE FAITH THAT THIS WILL WORK. I MYSELF WILL KEEP AN EYE ON THINGS IF I MUST. He Means Well. NOT THAT, THAT IS AN EXCUSE FOR HIS TERRIBLE BEHAVIOR.” He came forward to place a hand on Axe’s shoulder, humble and pleading. “WON’T YOU AT LEAST TRUST ME?” 
You couldn’t place the look that crossed Axe’s face from the question, the red orb of his eyelight quaking until his free hand brushed the edges of his empty socket. “That’s cheat’n…” There was a heaviness to the silence.  
When Axe’s shoulders sagged, Papyrus gave him back his space. “All WILL BE WELL. I’M SURE OF IT.” 
You were uncertain as to what you needed to do, but before you could stand, Axe nudged you back down. With the reluctance of a stubborn cat, he then went about gathering items he had deemed yours, going so far as draping his favored blanket over your shoulders. When all was said and done, you were left with a surprisingly intricate box full of puzzles, Axe’s blanket, and an affectionate nuzzle to your neck.  
It was with a heavy heart and a glowing face that you eventually followed Papyrus back out into the darkness. 
You did your best to keep up with his long strides, missing Axe’s purposely slowed gait. You could feel the grinding strain on your pelvis and lower joints with each step. You focused on the clack of your feet to keep your mind off the aching. Papyrus was already several steps ahead of you when he got to the steps.  
Blessedly, he turned to wait for you. 
It was embarrassing how out of breath you had become from such a short distance, especially when you knew you didn’t technically need to breathe. You were even more so when Papyrus cocked his head to look you over with a contemplative hum. 
His smile was kind. “MY APOLOGIES MISS. I KNEW YOU WERE IN ROUGH SHAPE, BUT I HADN’T REALIZED…” He glanced up the steps. “PERHAPS IT WOULD BE BETTER FOR ME TO HELP.” 
Without so much as a warning, he picked you up and draped you across both of his arms. You almost dropped your box, squeaking in surprise as he ascended to the deck. Your mind and tongue had stopped working from the suddenness. Though Axe had carried you once before and had moved you a few times, you didn’t quite know what to think of this stranger picking you up so nonchalantly. It was as if it was the most normal thing in the world for him, smile just as polite and kind as before. 
With him carrying you, it took little time to cross the rest of the way back through the double doors and down to the end of the hall. Standing in front of the windowed doors, you were only jostled a little when he turned the knob. He used his boot to kick it open the rest of the way with a bang, making you flinch when the glass shook precariously. 
You thought you saw a flash of blue, but when you looked, there was nothing there but a railed raised platform with an extravagant-looking bed, windows lining the entirety of the back wall. 
You shuddered. It smelled overwhelmingly of snow and cold rain. 
Scrunching his nasal ridge, Papyrus walked around a heavy round table with a scattering of papers and a lantern. Stepping onto the platform, he carefully set you down, turning to furiously rip the blankets off the bed to ball and fling them across the room with a fwump. 
“FORGIVE MY IDIOT OF A BROTHER. I WILL BE HAVING A TALK WITH HIM ABOUT APPROPRIATE BEHAVIOR LATER. FOR NOW, I’M AFRAID THIS WILL HAVE TO DO. AT LEAST THE BED IS EXCEPTIONALLY COMFORTABLE.” He put his hand down to pat the mattress. “IT IS A GIMBAL BED, MADE WITH LARGER MONSTERS IN MIND SO YOU WILL HAVE PLENTY OF SPACE AND WON’T HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT THE TIPPING OF THE SHIP.” 
When you didn’t move, he gently ushered you to sit before making his way to the windows. It was so dark now that the light from the lamp effectively turned them into mirrors. You were grateful, too afraid to look through them. To your relief, Papyrus closed the many curtains for each once. Once done, he gently took your box and stood at the end of the bed, bowing slightly from the waist. 
“I WOULD STAY TO HELP YOU SETTLE, BUT I UNFORTUNATELY HAVE OTHER DUTIES I NEED TO TAKE CARE OF AT THIS TIME. BUT DO NOT FEAR, I WILL MAKE SURE SOMEONE WILL BE BY IN THE MORNING TO BRING YOU SOME TEA AND BREAKFAST AND TO WELCOME YOU.” Walking away, he stopped to place your box on the table and extinguish the lantern. “SLEEP WELL MISS.”  
With a wave, he picked up the bundle of discarded blankets and walked out the door, closing it behind him. 
… 
It was frightening, alone in the dark.
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angelbitezzz · 3 months
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Softies
(short fic under the cut)
It wasn't noticeable at first. Sans wasn't even sure when he'd become aware of it, the distant sound of some kind of thumping. It was rhythmic and steady, unchanging in its tone or speed, barely heard above the breaths of the human he was nearly draped over. He roused slightly, drowsily opening his eyesockets.
"hey." His voice was low and rumbly from sleep. "what's that sound? listenin' to some weird music or something?"
"Eh? Sound? Nah, I'm not listening to anything." Angel responded, glancing away from her phone to look down at his head. "What is it that you're hearing?"
Well, that woke him up a little more. He raised a browbone, incredulity leaking into his voice.
"what, seriously? y'don't hear that thumping sound?"
"No?? Trust me, I'd tell you if I did."
"then what the hell—"
He cut himself off when the motion of lifting his head cut the sound off. He paused. Thought about it for a second, and realized something.
"wait."
"Mhm?"
"can i—can i check something?"
Sans shifted around, shuffling to face her better and grabbing her by the arms to move her around, his mind already three steps ahead and way past caring about personal space.
"Whoa, what're you—"
Angel's words were cut off as he pressed the side of his skull to her chest, heedless of the fact that he essentially just pushed his face into her boobs. Her back abruptly went straight, a shudder working through her system as she nearly dropped the phone in her hands.
"Uhhh," Her mind blanked out, her pulse increasing from the proximity. "Sans?"
"shut up, testing hypothesis."
She would've snapped at him for being a rude shit if it weren't for the fact that he was hit with some kind of understanding about a second later. His eyesockets opened wide, dim pupils sparking a bright white she'd never seen before from him. His default was that single red eye, but lately she'd seen him with dull gray pupils whenever they were alone. This was different, though, it was... almost friendly-looking? It was the best way to describe the sudden softening of his features.
"that's— that's coming from—" He sounded so softly awestruck that fondness struck her heart, his grip tightening on her. "is that you? what—"
Ohhh. She understood now. She pulled away softly so she could look at him properly, though he didn't seem to want to let her get too far, keeping his hold on her arms.
"W-well, uh, that's my heart, dude! Y'know, it keeps me alive!"
At some point a red flush had spread along Sans's cheeks, matching the one currently warming Angel's face. His pupils shuddered in his sockets, splitting into round white ovals that felt oddly sincere? Or maybe she was reading too much into it.
"but it's so—" he struggled to find the words. "small? that's so loud for something so fragile!"
"Welcome to the human experience, I guess...?"
"you just...make that sound?"
"....Yeah?"
Sans stared at her for a moment longer before he seemed to remember himself, lowering his head slightly as his pupils began to dim back to grey. Hesitance peppered his voice as he spoke again.
"uh. can i, um." He paused. "actually, nevermind, i'll just—"
"You wanna lay and listen to it but you don't know how to ask without sounding like a creep?"
Sans deflated a little, shooting her a particularly resigned sort of look. Haha, gottem.
"...yeah."
"Okay. Come on."
Angel reached over and gathering him slightly, shuffling awkwardly to get both her legs on the couch. In a moment, she'd patted his skull right back down against her chest. He went down with more hesitance now, but soon was nothing more than a warm, heavy pile of bones on her person, both hands keeping a tight grip on her waist like she was going anywhere.
Sans dozed, soon relaxing into a real sleep, lulled by the steady sound of her heart. That pulse—the consistent thumping that thrummed through his skull—was just an easy, grounding reminder that she was alive and present with him. Soothing in a way he'd never be able to explain.
She didn't know why he seemed to like the sound of her heartbeat so much. He wouldn't explain it to her.
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desktopdinosaur · 5 months
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Some late night sketches of @llamagoddessofficial latest chapter Tilikum! Y’all should absolutely go read it
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Why are there not, like... platonic x reader fics. Like, I don't wanna date these characters, I just want to hang out with them and crack jokes and banter and get takeaway and play videogames and maybe even hug and bop them on the head and just have affectionate platonic physical contact??? I want to read a fic about being friends with them, and yet all I can find is romantic reader insert fics.
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gillanfryingpan · 1 year
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some ftfo comfort bc Nim knows we need it rn !!!
me n the boys talking ab how it’ll be when Nightmare’s Corruption is gone,,,, breaks down in tears
ALSO NIGHTMARE CANONICALLY DOESNT HAVE A NOSE WHY DONT MORE PEOPLE REMEMBER THIS
so he can’t smell how stinky he is
also some things they were saying that inspired me rahh
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For The Forgotten Ones by Im_Sorry_Buddy
Nightmare!Sans by jokublog
Cross!Sans by jakei95
Killer!Sans by rahafwabas
Dust!Sans by ask-dusttale
Horror!Sans by Sour-Apple-Studios
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juniemunie · 8 months
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If we're not giving up, don't give up wherever you are.
That's a promise.
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reinadecorazonez · 1 month
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You did trust him. Already, this man without knowing you a day, had taken your protection seriously. He’d healed you in spite of it draining him,
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he kept you calm and in good spirits,
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and stood between you and hundreds of angry monsters.
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You shifted your hand to lace into his own and breathed out, “I trust you, Papyrus.”
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afterartist · 1 month
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Latest chapter is up let’s goooo
And here are all the images for this chapter in one post (:
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