#Nice to meet'cha (IC)

[derelictheretic]

Wips be upon ye again

I was tagged by @clicheantagonist @adelaidedrubman @socially-awkward-skeleton @unholymilf @strafethesesinners @aceghosts and @detectivelokis to share a wip!! Thank you beloveds 🥺💕

Tagging @viktor-sinclaire @baldurrs @deputyash @fadedjacket @florbelles @ishwaris @jinfromyarikawa @locustandwildhoney @redreart @shellibisshe @wewillryesagain @bl-beater @jollybone @trashcatsnark @afarcry5fromstraight @bluemojave @shellibisshe

My creative juices have been flowin so I got a whole three things to show off uvu

First Lola wip 👀 (I have half given up on this because I'm not confident in Lola's dialogue/mannerisms yet but it's also cute so who knows)

"I heard we had a newbie!" A boisterous voice sings from the left and the three turn to the doorway of the breakroom, a blonde with pink dyed tips bounds into the room with more energy than anyone else in the whole building had combined. A plastic container in her hands as she shoves past Staci and Joey to stand in front of Dean. Her grey eyes are bright and her pierced smile is breathtaking and infectious. She clutches the container to her chest with one hand and grabs Deans with the other, shaking it enthusiastically as she all but bounces in place.

"Nice to meet'cha rookie, names Lola! You can call me Darling or Your Majesty if you're feeling cute though."

Dean can't help but grin as both Staci and Joey sigh, the high energy from the woman now opening the container a nice change of pace from his slow and dull first week in the county.

"Nice to meet you, my name's–"

"Dean Sinclaire! Australian, twenty five, single, youngest of three kids, no criminal record and owner of a really shitty Jeep wrangler. I'll forgive you for the car because you were playing some bangin' tunes but you're on thin ice—Cupcake?" Lola holds out the container with a cheery smile and Deans tries not to look shaken as he reaches in and takes out a pink frosted cupcake. He knew his file would have some information on him but he had no idea who would have access to it, and he wasn't expecting anyone to list it all off in the middle of the office. Not that any of what she'd said was much of a secret, it was just unexpected.

"Tone it down Darling you're gonna freak him out—she does the background checks on newbies don't overthink it," Joey sighs, shaking her head and offering Dean a reassuring smile. He nods gently and decides to shake it off and take a bite of the cupcake and damn it was a good cupcake. Really good.

"Yeah, yeah i'm the only one tech savvy enough to do 'em, anyway interesting socials you got, don't really scream enforcer of the law if you know what I mean. Why're you here?" Lola takes a bite of a cupcake herself, watching Dean with an intense yet non-judgemental gaze that leaves him feeling unsteady. He swallows the piece of cupcake in his mouth and glances between the three deputies now staring him down, Joey and Staci seeming to want to hear his answer as well.

"Uh… I don't know how to say it without sounding cliché—I just want to help people." He offers sheepishly, suddenly having a hard time keeping eye contact.

"Plenty of other jobs that help people though, why'd you go this route? Is it the gun, it's okay if it's the gun I know you guys don't really get those easy down under." Lola raises the hand holding the cupcake to her mouth, her tone growing hushed in a conspiratorial manner as she offers a squinted, pursed lipped look his way.

"Hah—no, it's not the gun, I'm hoping I don't have to use it if i'm honest but uhm… I don't know it just, ended up this way I guess?" He shrugs gently, not prepared for this line of questioning. Which really he probably should have saw it coming, it's not like it was the one question in every cop movie ever or anything.

Lola nods slowly, humming as if she were dissecting his words in her head, ripping them apart.

"Better reason than Pratt's that's for sure, you'll do fine here. It's slow most days, holidays it tends to get a bit crazy but we'll look out for you." Joey offers another reassuring smile, matched with a welcoming pat to his shoulder. Staci scoffs under his breath, Joey quickly glaring at him to stop any complaints he had from surfacing verbally. Dean can't help but admire the interaction, it seemed like they had a good friendship—maybe in time he'd be sharing similar moments with them as a new guy walked in the door. It was a nice thought.

"You're getting paired up with me so obviously you'll be more than fine," Lola places a hand on Dean's other shoulder and he catches sight of her black acrylic nails, pink hearts dotted along them, "You're like my baby duckling now and if anyone fucks with my baby duckling I'll fuck them up with my car." Her happy tone turns serious in the blink of an eye, sincerity in every syllable and a promise that she meant it in her gaze. Oddly Dean finds the sentiment comforting instead of alarming, it was nice knowing he'd have someone so intent on having his back.

"I'm—Thank you, Lola." He smiles and she shoots a grin back, her vampire smiley piercings gleaming in the office light. She pats his cheek before stepping back and placing an extra cupcake on his desk. 'For later,' she mouths at him, pointing at it as if the other two with them couldn't see exactly what she was doing. As she's closing the plastic container the older deputy Dean had seen sitting at the front desk walks through the doors and Lola lets out an excited squeal, bounding up to the woman with glee.

"Nancy, my baby duckling is here! He doesn't have an accent but he's got the cutest little nose, do we have his uniform yet I wanna show him off—show him the ropes. I'm going to show him the ropes." Lola excitedly buzzes to the older woman, tacking on the last sentence as Sheriff Earl Whitehorse walks in behind her. Dean has to stop himself from laughing as she straightens her poster and blinks owlishly at their sheriff.

Earl shakes his head lightly as she shoots him a less than bashful grin. She tries to offer him a cupcake but he raises a brow at her and she pouts in response, mumbling something about being unappreciated as she walks off with Nancy back to what Dean could only assume was the break room.

And !! More of the jacob/dean fic from the last wip day, I know, me working on the same wip consistently? Shocking

"What did he do to you Rook?" 

Staci's voice feels distant, but Dean knows he's standing in front of the cage—clinging to the bars and probably looking down on him with the same dismay in the others' faces. Their resilient resistance leader was quiet, small, tired. 

"Fuck, your leg—"

They were all scared, Staci was scared. Dean wanted to reassure him, wipe his eyes and tell him he was still getting them out of here. 

"I–I'll get you some bandages, hold on."

But his mind just wanted to rest, shove down every memory of ginger hair and humid nights and stupid towns and stupid dreams and stupid wishes—He wanted to rip it to shreds and destroy every trace that said that motherfucker had ever been something to him. So he laid there on the ground and he stayed quiet. He tried to scrub the images behind his eyelids away, and tried to spit that name out of his mouth. Tried to rip that feeling out of his stupid heart.

Maybe if he was lucky he'd bleed out right now and steal the satisfaction of watching him continue to struggle through Jacob's trials. He could just see the hissy fit he'd throw, tables thrown and paper flying through the air as he cast blame onto whichever chosen shot him. Wouldn't that be funny?

I have a lot of art wips so uhh, peggie!dean and Jacob chillin' while Jo gives a sermon. Giving peggie!dean an alt look entirely based on a cosplay I did and i'm not sorry

[rascalgator]

[ofmackerelsandbombs-blog]

@fightforcurlives

“Nothing, just experimenting with fish again.” You shrug, no point in trying to see if the YorHa android would try eating the fish again, considering last time ended with the mackerel gumming up her insides and causing her and 9S to ‘die’.

And yet YorHa had no shortage of backups, considering you saw the pair again a day later. “What can I do for you Twobs?”

[bk20i]

“ are you alright? “ low voiced curiosity ( although bluffed ) & hurried movement afore sight — the suit she dons was far from casual — it was fit for a ward , wasn’t it? though he judges from just appearance alone  & leaves the query for confirmation — briefly looking side to side of the horizon to discern a threat , only to find none currently. “ are you running from something? “

                                                                                                     @rachel-of-slaughter | sc.

[zirkkun]

The Butterfly Effect (Part 3)

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The Butterfly Effect (Undertale Fanfic - overall given a AO3 M rating) Love Like You

+ underfell!sans x gender neutral reader (first person POV from reader)

+ 5140 words, english

+ this place is a lot different from the underground you’re used to... even the people act far differently than you’re used to.

+ TW: mild body horror, violence (no blood), mild verbal abuse //

+ takes place in the Underfell Underground; barrier is not broken

+ song theme for the chapter: love like you cover by ashe

+ AO3 link

My hand was cold once I woke up. I gripped at the air, feeling nothing around me. Desperately, I tried to lazily reach my arm out, hoping I'd find Sans somewhere next to me. Nothing. Giving in, I cracked my eyes open.

I wasn't even in Sans's house anymore.

I shot up from the bed I was in. I'd woken up in the same house as yesterday, but the sheets on this bed were far more tattered. Some of the paint was chipping off of the red bedroom walls. I took a step down off of the mattress, my feet touching the cold, wooden floor. I could have sworn it was carpeted. Wait, that aside, I could have sworn I had shoes. But, searching every corner of the room, I found not even a sock. There was nothing in here aside from empty dressers and dirt.

I pulled open the wooden closet's door; it creaked loudly as I did, as if it hadn't been used in years. As I assumed, there still wasn't anything inside, but what I did find was a mirror on the inside of the door, cracked and falling apart onto the floor, but the majority of it was still in tact. Though, the condition of the mirror was nothing compared to the condition of my own body. My hair was a mess, strands going every which way, and when I went to adjust it, it was so thick with grease that I nearly thought it was wet. Disgusted, I stopped touching it, but that wasn't even the half of what changed. My skintone and eye color were the same, but my outfit was entirely different, not to mention torn. Every edge of the fabric was frayed, as if I'd grabbed rags off of the street. What the hell happened last night? How did I even end up here? And why did this room get so trashed if I was the only one here between yesterday and now? Well, I guess I can't know that I was the only one here... I did get back somehow, after all.

As I went to close the door back up, I noticed something protruding from the base of my neck. It was small and azure, like a little sphere of some kind. I rubbed my thumb against it: it hurt to touch, but it was most certainly growing out of my neck, through my skin. I didn't know what to do with it. I tried to pull it out, but doing so somehow caused me to nearly choke, as if there was something attached to the little ball that was roped around my esophagus. I coughed and hacked, gripping my throat as I collapsed to the ground in pain. Even worse is that, after my panicked coughs of pain, is that I could feel the little blue ball wriggling and moving as I began to recover. Instinctively, I clawed my neck, only causing my pain to flare up once again as I shrieked. Horrifically, I pushed myself up from the floor, trying to inspect what was previously a blue lump on my neck.

The lump had unfolded. From it sprouted a very small azure forget-me-not, its petals moist like a real, growing flower. I brushed its surface, feeling the touch as if it was part of my skin. It sent a shiver down my spine: this isn't supposed to happen. Why is there a flower growing out of my neck?

Everything today was driving me crazy. The past two days? Whatever.

I forced myself to walk outside of the room, shaking with aftershock from the pain in my throat. The hallway from the house I recognized was completely different -- everything was trashed, even worse than the room I had been in. Flower pots that were once on tables were shattered and scattered across the floor. The lights were dim, broken, and flickering. But, the same as yesterday morning, the home was empty without a trace of life or dust. Even as I found myself crawling through the basement again, I couldn't find anything other than the ice cold floor under my feet -- which grew colder with each step I took towards the exit.

A gush of freezing cold wind hit my face as the Ruins door creaked from my touch. I shivered instantaneously, only feeling the cold worse and worse. Carefully, and fearfully, I took a step with my bare feet into the icy snow, recoiling almost immediately. I have to go. I have to move. I repeated the same encouragement in my head over and over, taking heavy breaths as the cold bit at my skin more and more by the second. Eventually, I closed my eyes, threw open the door, and slammed my foot into the snow. It hurt. Another step. More pain. Keep going. It was so cold.

There didn't seem to be anyone else out in forest yet -- at least, I didn't hear anything, but I was also moderately preoccupied by the sharpness of pain in my toes. I took a heavy breath once again, the exhale visible in the cold air, pushing through this pain. There has to be someone, right? Maybe Sans again? Or maybe even Papyrus? Anyone else? I don't know what to do here, or how to get home...

Then I spotted it. The bridge, with its silly, oversized gate that barely balanced enough across the opening to stand up correctly. If things went as they normally did, in a little bit, I should hear that familiar voice...

"Human."

Oh no.

That wasn't familiar at all.

It was deeper, more raspy, and overall... terrifying. I froze in place, my now numbed feet succumbing to the pins that surrounded my every bit of exposed flesh.

"Hey, now... don'cha know how'ta greet a new pal? Turn around."

I swallowed quietly, slowly turning myself to face the voice's source standing behind me. I had already been trembling from the cold, but now I was shivering with fear so much that I'm surprised I haven't fallen over yet. My breath stuttered, jittering with every slight movement I made.

Red. It was the first thing I noticed about him. His whole outfit was lined with red traces, even his sweater was solid crimson. His black jacket had red patches along its golden stripes down each arm, matching the stripes on his black gym shorts. But when I caught sight of his face -- it was almost unbelievable. So much was familiar, yet so much was different. I could see in those eye sockets and with the shape of his skull, this was Sans, but those teeth... shark-like, one having been replaced by gold that was jammed into a now cracked part of his upper jaw. His smirk was horrifying, yet somehow patient, as he waited for me to finally turn around before continuing his speech.

The red Sans pulled a hand out of his pocket, every bone on it visible and cracked, unlike Sans's usual mittens. I stared at it for a long time, as if I'd somehow never seen these hands before, but I think I took in those scars the most. It was like a worn-down version of what I was used to. An abandoned version you'd find at the second-hand store. But soon, he pushed the hand closer to me, aggressively demanding, "Shake my hand."

I reached out my left hand nervously, feeling somehow more scared to go for a handshake than I was to freeze my feet off in the snow. But the second my palm touched his, I was struck with a jolt that flew up my arm and straight down my spine until it could fly from my feet into the ground. I yelped at the sudden pain -- only for the tension to break with the red Sans's deep voice erupting into a fit of laughter. He was absolutely losing it, even trying to speak but finding himself unable to for how much his giggling just overwhelmed his entire being. Eventually, he finally hacked out through laugher, "Fuck, the joy buzzer in the hand trick, it's always funny."

I couldn't help but wonder about him. His speech was so similar to Sans's, but just that little bit different. His word choice, his actions, even his choice of humor was just as dorky as Sans's. But something was so incredibly different about him. I don't know what happened. Is this still him?

"Well, nice to meet'cha, I'm --"

"Sans, right?"

The eyelights of the skeleton before me shrank with sudden fear, his previous expression of joy falling apart. I couldn't tell what he was thinking -- was he scared? Angry? Confused? His facial ticks were so much different than what I was used to, I had no idea what to think. I couldn't read him. I thought again, fearfully, is this Sans?

"... how the hell d'ya know that?" Red Sans's voice was low, his shark teeth flashed in a angry frown. His eyelights shot fear down my spine.

What do I say? What do I do? I don't know! Every semblance of a sentence falls apart before I can get it out. He takes a step towards me; I take a step back. "Oh, not so confident now, are ya? Gonna pretend like you're a little bitchy scaredy cat now, huh? Look, human, you're lucky I haven't just reaped ya for EXP yet. Maybe if ya tell me why the hell you know my name, we can get away scot-free, eh?" His frown was deadly, his eyelights shrinking to none. "How's that sound?" he hissed, his shoe jamming into my numbed toes.

Had it not been for the snow, that would have hurt a lot more, but even still, it threw my walking off balance, and I fell onto the bridge, it creaking horrifyingly loud as I did. It swayed a little; I took a glace at the ground below it -- oh. There wasn't any. Oh no.

My attention was pulled back to the red Sans by force: he grabbed me with his right hand, fingertips jammed into my cheeks, twisting my neck back to face him. He knelt over me, resting his elbows on his kneecaps, face as violent as I'd ever seen his before. No, it's far more deadly. Far more sincere.

A bone with a sharpened end manifested itself in the red Sans's free hand. He aimed it directly at me. "Ya gonna talk, or no? Trust me, I don't wanna hurt such'a pretty human as much as the next guy, but I can't have little spies or whatev'a you are runnin' around, ya feel? So, jus' tell me how the hell ya know my name, and I'll let'cha go, sweetheart."

The pet names were horrifying coming from him for the first time in my life. Though, this voice was completely different. His name is Sans but... This isn't Sans. Not at all.

I croaked a sound from my throat, to the red Sans's surprise. I was scared to, but even still, I continued, with the best lie I could muster while having my life flash before my very eyes.

"You... look like someone I know with that name."

But he didn't seem to like it. He immediately frowned, his mouth almost in a pout. "That's it? C'mon, doll face, you're really gonna make me go through all the effort of tryin' to kill ya just for somethin' as simple as that?" He huffed, the bone from his hand dissipating as he dropped my head back onto the wooden bridge. "Such'a waste of energy. C'mon, get'chur ass up. I still sorta got a job or somethin' for watchin' out for humans, so I guess I'll pretend to do that or somethin', I don' fuckin' know." As he stood up, he started mumbling other things to himself, stepping over my body to the other side of the crevice where I assumed his sentry station would be. I slowly got myself up off of the ground, every bit of me still trembling and numb.

"Oh, c'mon, what's the fuckin' hold up?" Red Sans expressed this annoyance loudly as he turned around to face me. I had just managed to stand up when we locked eyes for a second, only able to register fear for a split second before my eyes went fuzzy, and my body went completely limp.

 The first shock was that I woke up. The second shock was that it was wrapped up practically swaddled in three blankets, curled up on a familiarly ugly carpeted floor. I could feel heat radiating from somewhere, and when I looked up, I spotted a room heater only a few feet away from my gaze. And, only another few feet away from that, coiled up into a stiff ball leaning against the chipping paint on the walls, was the red Sans from before. He had a mug in his hand now, and a expression sprawled across his face that couldn't be described as anything other than "grumpy."

I slowly freed my arms from the blankets around me, the movement startling Sans a bit. "Oh. You're alive," he muttered. It had traces of forced disappointment, but that breathy tone of relief overpowered it. "Don't go fallin' into never-ending canyons like that, a'ight? 's not good." His voice was overall more muffled and slurring, lacking the distinct confidence it held earlier today.

I leaned up from where I had been laying, finding myself in Sans's room once again. But this one was much different. His walls were chipping paint, there was a lot more trash everywhere, and it looked like his window had a big crack in it. Even his door was loose: it was half off the top hinge, leaning crooked into the carpeted floor. I wondered where he got these blankets from -- they were practically pristine, as if they were brand-new, with some really odd design choices. One was flames, another with pirate ships, and the third was a bunch of cats. I kind of giggled at the thought of red Sans here having a soft side for baby kittens, considering he literally threatened my life only not too long ago. Or... maybe it was a while ago. I don't know how long I was asleep.

"Do you like cats?" I asked him, referencing to the blanket around me.

Sans sneered. "Hell no. I hate those damn bastards. My brother's the cat guy. Prob'ly cause they're jus' as horrible as he is." He mumbled the last part, almost as if he didn't want anyone to hear him. He took a loud, long sip from the mug he had still in his grip.

"Do... you not get along with your brother?" I had hesitated, only to stop myself from directly referring to him as Papyrus. I didn't need another death sentence today.

Red Sans laughed. "I couldn't if I wanted'ta. And trust me. I've wanted'ta." He glared at the floor. "Fuckin' asshole's too full of himself to care about me anymore." His voice sounded defeated in a way, losing that pride that he'd been otherwise holding strong. He slammed down another glug, this time quietly and quickly.

I pushed the blankets around me off, with intentions of moving a bit closer to him, but within seconds of the first shuffle I made to leave the bundle, Sans placed down his mug, shortcutting in front of me -- even though it was just a few feet -- and re-wrapping me into the blankets. "You'll get fuckin' cold again. Don't."

I was confused by this sudden turn around from earlier. "But it's hot in here," I confessed, a twinge of a whine lacing my tone.

Now, I should say, that was said entirely seriously, without any second meanings whatsoever.

However, that didn't stop Sans from locking gazes with me, pouting even more so than before, a hint of red whisping across his cheeks. "Don' say shit like that," he murmured, voice slurred as he let go of my blankets.

"What are you talking about? I'm swaddled in a bunch of blankets with a space heater by my head. It's hot."

Suddenly, something clicked, and his face got an even deeper shade of red, teeth sprawling into an angry grin. "F'ckin' bullshit..." he mumbled angrily. "Wh-whatever! Nevermind what I said. Jus'... I don' fuckin' care. Just don't complain if ya get cold again, a'ight?"

And with that, he went back to his huddled position against the wall. I let the blankets slip off of my shoulders as I crept over to where Sans was sitting. He raised a brow as I approached. "What?" he snapped.

"Uh... Can I sit by you?" I asked.

"No. Fuck off."

Oh.

I went back to where I had been sitting before by the room heater, my knees tucked up to my chest so I could lean my chin against them. My eyes fell upon red Sans once again. He wasn't looking back to me, but I was just staring. It was... Hard to see him as a man I once dated. I kept seeing bits and pieces of the Sans I know in him -- each time I see one, my Soul flares up like it's an instinct response. But so much of him was different that it was very hard to think of him as... Sans. His speech, his voice, his clothing choice... He was so distinctly different.

And yet, that gaze in his eye sockets was all the same. And the fact that he risked himself to save me... even after threatening me... He was in there, somewhere.

"Sans," I blurted. He grunted a response of acknowledgement. "Why did you save me from falling off into the abyss? Why not leave me? You were going to kill me anyway, weren't you?"

He didn't respond for a long while. I had expected maybe a laugh or a huff or something like that, but he didn't do any of those things. Even still, he refused to make eye contact again, staring into his now-empty mug. "I wasn't gonna kill ya," he breathed. "That's not my style. I know it doesn't make a lotta sense, livin' in a place where ya gotta kill to survive'n'all that shit... but it doesn't feel good. Gaining EXP feels sick." He sighed heavily. "An' I saved ya, 'cause... 'cause... 'c-cause it's my job'ta capture humans, not kill 'um. That's Asgore's job." He didn't sound so sure on that final explanation.

Red Sans set down his mug and rolled out from his ball into a stretched out position, both his feet out before him, and his arms acting as a cusion as they were crossed and sitting behind his head leaning against the wall. But, I couldn't help but notice...

"Nice socks," I commented.

Instantly, Sans jolted, pulling his legs closer to him. "I-I told ya, my brother's the cat guy, not me. These are his socks, a-a'ight? I just didn't feel like doin' laundry!"

They were an off white, with little brown cat faces stitched into them like a polka dot pattern. It really contrasted the rest of his "tough guy" kind of outfit he had going. Admittedly, it was cute.

Outside of his room, towards the front of the house, there was a very loud door slam. Sans's entire body jolted, eyelights falling to slits of white. "SANS!" A scream echoed from the living room.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck --" Sans kept repeating this in a panic, looking to me with scattered gazes, flipping his eyes to everything in his room before finally deciding on just grabbing me like some kind of pillow -- I grunted, to which he shushed me -- tossed me onto his bare mattress, and then threw the blankets on top of me. "Be quiet. Don't say a fuckin' thing or you're dead, got it?" Sans hissed to me. The door to his room slammed open.

"SANS." The loud voice ripped through the room without any care for the pain it caused.

Sans's voice followed up, much more quiet and trembling. "Y-yeah, Boss?"

"HOW MANY TIMES THIS WEEK DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU TO STAY. AT. YOUR. POST!" There was the sound of aggressive tapping on the floorboards. "YOU HAVE EXACTLY ONE JOB AND YOU CAN'T EVEN DO THAT RIGHT. YOU'RE MAKING ME LOOK TERRIBLE WITH THIS STUPID CHARADE OF BEING LAZY YOU HAVE!"

"S-s-sorry, Boss, I'll go back, d-didn't mean'ta worry ya --"

"AND WHY IN THE NAME OF ASGORE DO YOU HAVE MY BLANKETS IN YOUR ROOM?" I froze. Oh no. It's his brother. Steps came closer to me, echoing on the wooden floor like the horrifying sound of hearing a teacher with heels down the hall while you skipped class. I kept still, slowing my breath and doing my best to remain calm. "AND THESE ARE THE ONES I JUST WASHED! AND YOU BRING THEM INTO YOUR DISGUSTING ROOM!"

"S-s-sorry, Boss, I wasn't thinkin' --"

"NO, YOU WEREN'T. I'D SAY RETURN THEM TO ME, BUT --" I felt as he snatched the top one for a moment, dropping it quickly after with a sound of disgust. "EUGH. THEY ALREADY REEK OF MUSTARD AND GREASE. WASH THEM FIRST."

"Y-you got it, B-Boss." Sans's trembling voice was so opposite to the confidence I heard from him earlier that it alone was scaring me. The heels clicked across the floor again, going back to Sans's doorway.

"AND WHEN YOU'RE DONE WITH THAT, COME BACK TO WORK. AND DON'T WASTE TIME." The door slammed shut before Sans could even reply. I relaxed a bit, but nothing happened until there was the front door slam once again. That's when Sans let loose a large breath, throwing the blankets off of me. His eyes were stricken with fear, eyelights trembling slits of white that looked me over the second he saw me again. Did he think I'd disappeared?

"S-sorry you had'ta see that... or, uh, hear that." Sans mumbled as he sat on the opposite end of his bed. "Fuck, sorry, 'm really sorry..."

I sat up quickly. "What's --" But as soon as I saw him, I stopped myself.

His face was deadpan, staring at the floor, his hands loosely thrown across his lap. He didn't say anything, didn't look at me. He just stared. I let him have the silence; Sans needed a moment to recollect himself, that much was evident.

"I'mma ask you somethin'," he mumbled. "Jus' who the hell are you?" I paused, confused, waiting for further explanation. "You don't think I fuckin' noticed when there was somethin' different about ya? You're not the normal kid who comes runnin' around here all willy-nilly'n'shit." Sans inhaled heavily, his hands balling into fists on his lap. "If ya were, things wouldn't be happenin' this way. What the hell did you do? Where the hell did ya come from?"

Honestly, I had no idea how to respond. Should I just say it outright? Would he understand what I'm talking about? Then again, if he recognizes the pattern of every reset, and only now something is different... I think he's probably more able to understand this than I thought. Was this... something Sans always recognizes? The... last one I was with mentioned something about this too. But the... first one I met never said anything about this.

"An' you've got thing on your neck, too." Red Sans looked at me again, eyelights focused on my neck. I stupidly tried to look at it, but then instead reached my hand up to it -- ow.

Right. The flower.

"Somethin's real weird about ya, sweetheart, and I don't know what the hell it is."

I sighed. Well, the truth is better than nothing. I might as well say it.

"I don't think I'm supposed to be here," I started. Sans snickered and mumbled something like "That much is obvious," but I ignored him. "I was dating you but... you looked different than you do now. I can still see it's you from your face, but... Your resemblance to the Sans I recall is really slim."

Red Sans perked up for a second upon hearing this. His brow furrowed, eyes targeted on my face. "You're kiddin', right? You're out here tryin' to tell me you're from some alternate universe?" He released a gruff sigh, muttering under his breath what sounded like, "For fuck's sake." He continued mumbling for a little while longer until something hit him. His muttering stopped as a very uncharacteristic squeak left his teeth, Sans slapping his hand across his mouth as he flew to the very edge of his mattress, eyelights staring at me. Almost like his hand was burning his face, it started glowing red. "D-d-d-... D-did you say you were... dating me?" He sounded almost scared.

I tilted my head. "Yes," I answered truthfully. I figured I better not ask why.

His hand dropped from his face, the corners of his mouth twitching a bit, but Sans otherwise didn't stop staring at me. His gaze did flicker for a while, though, as if he was suddenly very interested in every inch of my body, his face glowing brighter by the second. Eventually he met my eyes again and started rambling. "L-look, doll face, I know I said ya looked pretty earlier, but if you're gonna jus', uh, make up some whack story about how we were datin' in another world or time or whatever, jus'... I-I dunno, jus'... jus' outright tell me if ya like me like a normal person, a'ight?! Don't do... whatever stupid business you're doin' right now!"

His words made sense, but the sentences didn't string well together.

"Sans, I'm not lying."

"You jus' makin' shit up to make up for the fact that you knew my name, right? You jus' knew it from somewhere. I don't fuckin' know where the hell a human would live unnoticed in the Underground but you're one helluva spy t'jus'... I dunno, do whatever the hell ya do? Look, I won't turn ya in! I'll keep ya here or whatever so Asgore doesn't kill ya! You can just tell me you're doin' whatever spy human-y shit you're doin', I don't fuckin' know, without lyin' about it!"

"Sans, I'm not lying," I repeated.

"How the hell's a guy like me supposed'ta believe that? That ya cared 'bout me enough wherever else to date me in a diff'rent timeline? Nah, nah that's bullshit!" He violently shook his hands, as if throwing away the idea. "You're speakin' straight up bullshit!"

"What would make you believe me?"

He halted his speech, staring at me blankly. Sans's face ran through several different expressions at once, overall looking overwhelmed and confused. Eventually, he settled on anger: "Don't suggest shit like that, human," he hissed.

"Suggest what?" I blinked, genuinely confused as to whether or not I said something weird.

"Stop! Suggestin' you like me! 's bullshit!" He ran through an amalgam of confused emotions again, his hands trembling into fists once again. "It... It's not... Nobody..." Sans shook his head. "Don't fuckin' bother with me, a'ight? Whatever, I don't care if you're being truthful or not! Jus' don't mess with me! Do whatever little reset-y thin' you humans do whenever somethin' goes wrong and find somebody else!"

The room held a silence. Sans just breathed heavily for a long while, seemingly winded from yelling so much. But I, on the other hand...

"What do you mean... 'reset'?"

First, he was pissed at the question, and I was expecting another attack of words, but then his expression suddenly fell to something so somber and gentle that he reminded me of the Sans I met. Something about that look in his eyes -- that flicker of hope in his eye sockets, the faintness of a dream across his reddend face, it reminded me of that time. The MTT resort. That pseudo date. When I decided to turn back and stay. That same hope and dream.

"Y... You're jokin', now," red Sans heaved. "No, no, you're... You gotta be messin' with me... But how... How..." His head drooped, attention given entirely to his floor. "I don't get it... but, why... why? Why would you do that to yourself?"

Taken aback, I quickly replied, "Do what to myself?"

"... Deal with me. Put up with me. Learn how to... love me."

His voice was quiet and tender, as if on the edge of breaking.

Sans didn't look at me.

His whole body was trembling.

He was gripping onto the sleeves of his sweatshirt for dear life.

It's as if he was near death.

I carefully thought through my words before I spoke. One misstep could send this the wrong way entirely. I took in a deep breath. And another. And another. Before finally deciding to give him my honest confession.

"It's not so hard to love every aspect of someone once you've already fallen for them. You're not exempt from being lovable."

He chuckled. He let loose a heavier laugh. "Doll face... That's cute, but you're wrong." He stared me in the face, his expression of confidence hiding the fear within his shaking eyelights. "My own fuckin' brother doesn't even love me. We grew up together, I practically raised him, and... he doesn't care 'bout me anymore." He sucked in a harsh breath. "He was all I had left after... after... a-after..." Breath stuttering even harder, he forced himself to continue. "... but now I'm nothing to him. Just some guy he can use for whatever stupid shit he's gotta do... he won't even let me call him my brother anymore. He's..." Sans pulled himself into a tight hug, death-gripping his arms as he trembled, voice cracking with every breath he took. His eyelights had fallen to the floor, focusing on nothing.

"I can't even be loved by my own damn brother, and you're expectin' me to just... believe that you dated me in another timeline?" Sans croaked with more laughter. "Sweetheart, I..." His tone started sarcastic, but he couldn't even bring himself to finish whatever joke he'd started. Instead, he clamped his mouth shut, his jaw quivering slightly before he finally settled on what to say. "Even if you loved me then, I... I don't think I could bring myself to love you like you love me. I - I can't... do that again."

"Sans," I breathed. His attention flicked up to me again, however nervously. "It's okay. I promise you, I'm not going to hurt you. I'd swear my life on it." I offered him a smile; his eyelights perked up for the first time during this whole endeavor.

"There's almost nothing you could do or be that would make me stop loving you."

Ah. A line I would later come to regret.

[gaileon]

  ↪ 「 @nxbleborn liked for a starter  」

✦ —  ❝ Jeez... you have a sweet tooth too ?       How can you even stand that stuff ? ❞

[auricesque]

@stxrshell​ replied to your post:           “I got something else to warm my hands...

rip to you but that reminds me of another pun! AHEM! hey, dude i never learned the name of, /ice/ to meet'cha!

*          An honest to gods snort   curls from his throat at that awful pun. He gives the other man a look with a glint of mischief, and a bit of exasperation.

     “Wow, just wow. I’m snow glad you shared that one with me,” he quips back easily. “Anyway, nice to meet you too. You can call me Claude, mister...?”

[undertale-rho]

Underearth: Book 1 - Chapter 11

As Frisk walked down the path, he saw a large piece of cloth hooked onto two thick wooden poles. Beyond it there were many wooden buildings on either side of the path surrounded by trees. The sign read 'Welcome to Snowdin Town'. Frisk continued into the town. The first building he came to had the word 'SHOP' written above the left door, and 'INN' written above the right door. In between the two doors was a box exactly like the one he found at the beginning of the woods. He eventually decided to enter the shop. Within moments of entering, he was greeted by the shopkeeper, a female rabbit Monster.

"Hello traveler, how can I help you?"

"Well, I was wondering what you could tell me about those boxes." Frisk answered pointing to the arcane box outside.

"Oh, those? Some sort of old technology brewed up by those weird scientists in New Home. I believe they called it the dimensional box. Supposed to be some private storage system that goes off your SOUL WAVELENGTH or something like that."

"What's a SOUL WAVELENGTH?"

"From what I remember, it's the frequency of your SOUL. It's supposed to be absurdly high. Apparently, the dimensional boxes can read the WAVELENGTH of your SOUL down to the fifth decimal, whatever that means. All I care about is that it's a handy way to store the stuff you don't want stolen."

"Well what if two people have the same SOUL WAVELENGTH?" Frisk asked.

"Umm, I don't think that has ever happened, but I guess that would mean that they share a dimensional box."

"I see, well thanks for the information."

"Bye now! Come again sometime!"

Frisk then left the store. He kind of felt bad he couldn't compensate her for answering his questions. Not like he could help it. The next door over was an inn. He decided to go there next, but before he went in, he decided to open the box. Inside the box was a pair of worn leather gauntlets. He reached in and grabbed them. The gauntlets appeared to be very worn, but seemingly new and old at the same time. Perhaps being within the box preserved it. There's no telling how long it'd been in there. He decided to just put on the gauntlets and head over to the inn. When Frisk entered the establishment, he spotted a slender rabbit Monster behind the counter.

"Welcome to the Snowed Inn! Snowdin's premier hotel! One night is 80G."

"I'm... sorry, I don't have any money."

"You don't even have 80G? Oh! You poor thing. I can only imagine what you've been through. One of the rooms upstairs is empty. You can sleep there for free, okay?"

"Um, are you sure it's okay?"

Frisk had never really received anything for free before, at least not recently.

"I'm absolutely sure. Please, I insist."

"Well, okay."

Frisk took the room key offered to him and went upstairs to the room given to him. Room 201. The inside of the room featured a desk on the right-hand side, a bed on the left-hand side, and a nightstand dividing the two. Frisk took off his ragged boots and laid down on the bed.

It was kind for the rabbit lady to give him this room for free. Besides the time in Toriel's home, Frisk hadn't laid upon any sort of clean, soft, and comfortable bed in years. Not ever since he was orphaned, which was so many years ago, longer still due to the anomaly. A deep hatred began becoming apparent in Frisk again as his thoughts turn to him. The one responsible for all this. He felt a burning sensation in his SOUL as his thoughts dwelt on him, enough for Frisk's fatigue to fade away into nothingness. It was useless for him to stay in the room any longer, as his reason for entering had expired. He put his ragged boots back on and exited the room. From there, he went downstairs back to the front counter.

"Hiya! You look like you had a great sleep. Which is incredible, because you were only up there for a few minutes. Feel free to come back if you get tired."

"Thanks, I'll keep that in mind."

With that, Frisk exited the inn and took a look around. Across from the inn were a bunch of houses all lined up stretching down to Frisk's left. On the side Frisk was on, there were a few more buildings. A few houses, one of which barely standing on the precipice of the plateau. Right in the middle of the town stood a tall decorated tree.

Looks like a Christmas tree, but that's a few months from now. Frisk thought as he walked towards it.

A little bit further was a warm red-orange building with big orange letters on top. Grillby's. There was a large orange-paned window taking up the left two thirds of the front of the building. Inside Frisk could see several Monsters including a fire-Monster in a 3-piece suit behind the counter. Just past the building was a clearing of trees. He decided to explore down this path.

Down the path, Frisk found another number of houses tightly packed together. Across from the houses was a small fenced-off building with a conveyor belt coming from a large opening. On top of the conveyor belt were large blocks of ice. A large wolf Monster standing at the end of the conveyor picked up one of the ice blocks and threw it off the cliff behind him into a river. Frisk continued forward until he came to a riverbank. Can't go forward anymore from here. As Frisk began to turn around, the phone he had had begun to ring. After a few seconds, Frisk decided to answer it.

"Hello! Can I speak with G..." The voice stopped abruptly. After a few seconds of silence, it began speaking again. "Wait a second. Is this the wrong number?"

"Y-yeah."

When Frisk said that, music began pouring from the receiver.

"Oh it's the wrong number! The wrong number song! We're very very sorry that we got it wrong!"

The phone then hung up. Frisk pulled it away from his ear and gave it the strangest look before storing back in his pocket and continuing back to the main path of Snowdin Town.

When Frisk made it back to the main path, a small lizard Monster with no arms came running by before tripping flat on his face.

"Whoa, you ok?" Frisk asked.

"Yeah, I'm good." The Monster said as he got up.

The strange Monster looked over at Frisk.

"Yo! You're a kid too, right? I can tell 'cause you're wearing a striped shirt."

Frisk looked down at his blue shirt. It had two pink stripes running horizontal around the shirt. I guess it's part of their culture that children wear striped shirts.

"Um, yeah, I'm a kid too." he finally said.

"Well, nice to meet'cha." the Monster said before running off.

That was odd.

Frisk continued down the main path, coming upon a building that had the word Librarby written across the top. Deciding to ignore it, Frisk continued. After a little bit, he came upon an extremely decorated house, the last one before the end of town. Frisk admired the decorations as he walked past the structure.

After a little bit of walking, fog began to set in. Within moments, the fog had become thick enough that Frisk couldn't even see his nose or messy bangs.

"HUMAN." he heard through the fog. Frisk looked around for the source of the voice. After a minute, he managed to make out the dull silhouette of Papyrus.

"ALLOW ME TO TELL YOU ABOUT SOME COMPLEX FEELINGS. FEELINGS LIKE... THE JOY OF FINDING ANOTHER PASTA LOVER. THE ADMIRATION FOR ANOTHER'S PUZZLE-SOLVING SKILLS. THE DESIRE TO HAVE A COOL, SMART PERSON THINK YOU ARE COOL. THESE FEELINGS... THEY MUST BE WHAT YOU ARE FEELING RIGHT NOW!!!"

Not really. Frisk thought.

"I CAN HARDLY IMAGINE WHAT IT MUST BE LIKE TO FEEL THAT WAY. AFTER ALL, I AM VERY GREAT. I DON'T EVER WONDER WHAT HAVING A LOT OF FRIENDS IS LIKE. I PITY YOU... LONELY HUMAN... WORRY NOT!!! YOU SHALL BE LONELY NO LONGER! I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, WILL BE YOUR..."

He stopped talking for a second, as if in deep thought.

"NO... NO, THIS IS ALL WRONG! I CAN'T BE YOUR FRIEND!!! YOU ARE A HUMAN! I MUST CAPTURE YOU! THEN, I CAN FULFILL MY LIFELONG DREAM!!! POWERFUL! POPULAR! PRESTIGIOUS!!! THAT'S PAPYRUS!!! THE NEWEST MEMBER... OF THE ROYAL GUARD!!!"

A Whole New World : Snowdin Town

Previous First Next

[rascalgator]

@pizzaplex-mechanic stomped: It's the artificial pizza scent this place sprays through the vents. Makes folks goofy

"HAH! The pizza made them gay!" Monty no.

[ofmackerelsandbombs-blog]

@battlecontracted

“I wouldn’t go in there if I were you.” You say as you watch the YorHA android attempt to advance into one of the many caverns that make up the desert area. “I just finished rigging it with a new kind of mine, wanna see how long it takes before one of those machines sets one off.”

You’ve set the mines up in a chain, detonate one, and it will set the others off in a series of fiery explosions. Honestly, the last thing you want is for 2B and 9S to go wandering into a cavern and setting one of those explosives off.

Life would be boring without those two...

[cloudysfluffs]

Mark works at an ice cream shop, Jack is just a normal customer. As Mark takes Jack's order, Mark keeps flirting with him, making Jack blush like hell XD Mark uses cheesy af pick up lines when giving him his ice cream (such as "I seem to have lost my number. Could I get yours?" or something like that XD)

(Yay! :D)

The sun shone through the trees, nearly blinding the shop worker as he scrubbed the glass table of the icecream shop. The place was empty, despite having just opened on a rather hot day. It was then when the bell at the front door dinged, causing Mark, at one behind the register, to jump and drop his rag on the ground. After picking it back up, his eyes met with the other standing behind the counter. His hair was a bright green, even though it peaked from beneath his hat. His eyes were a soft blue, reflecting perfectly of the sun shining through the window. Mark had to do a double take tp assure he was seeing straight. Or…in this case seeing gay.

In other words, this guy was cute.

Mark smiled warmly, snapping himself away from his thoughts.

“Hey, ‘Names Mark, nice to meet'cha.” He greeted with a kind expression. The other returned the glance, his smile lighting up the room like the sun on a cloudy day.

“I’m Jack, its nice to meet you too!” He said blissfully. His voice was undeniably irish, and it was smooth as butter. Mark smirked gleefully.

“Hey, sorry to ask, but do you by any chance know CPR?” Mark asked. Jack was taken back.

“I dont…why?” His voice was anxious, rising in tone a bit. His shoulders tensed and brow furrowed.

“Because you seem to know how to take everyone breath away.” Mark chuckled.

Jack blinked, his shoulders relaxing. After a moment of silence, he giggled childishly, his face radiating with a gentle pink. Knowing his plan was working Mark tried again,

“Ill take your order, but the only thing on the menu, is me 'n you~” Mark winked, elicting another string of laughter from the one behind the counter. What brought him back was Jacks response.

“Hehe, well, I better find us a science lab, cause I can tell theres some chemistry between us.”

Marks eyes widened, his cheeks turning red instantaneously. Jack grinned, putting his hands behind his back innocently.

“One more thing,” Mark used up all his confidence. Pulling a pen from his pocket, he slid it across the table.“I hate to say, I lost my number. Can I have yours~?”

Though Jack was a bit taken back, he soon smiled brightly, and took the pen in his hand. He grabbed Mark by the wrist, and scribbled a line of numbers on his arm. He then capped the pen and smiled. Mark smiled back.

“Hah, I’m so happy I forgot my pickup line.” He chuckled.

“Then lets forget the lines. Are you free this weekened?” Jack asked curiously, raising an eyebrow.

“If you are.” Mark responded. Jack nodded.

“Call me!” He said excitedly.

“I will! But in the meantime…what can I get you?”

[halfsouledbrat-archive]

| | Mobile IC, cont. @searching-for-our-freedom | | " Honestly don't know. " Her half-SOUL pounded. She didn't feel very comfortable around this guy, but she needed the help. " I'm Charlyn. Charlyn Jean! Call me Charly. " She stuck her hand out for a handshake. " Nice to meet'cha, dude. "

[rascalgator]

Unknown visitor stomped: 'Cuz it's February, luv, Valentines is soon! <3/p

"... what is that? Is it food?"

[rascalgator]

@glamserve stomped: casually gives his muzzle some gentle but very enthusiastic scratches !!

Monty loves gentle scratches on his muzzle! He was now wagging the tip of his tail left and right and a head lifted up. You got a very happy alligator!

[ofmackerelsandbombs-blog]

@linklewinklewoman

"Reeeereally?" Jackass says with a smirk, mischievously stroking their chin and looking at the flapping fowl in Linkle's arms.

"How deadly are we talking here? And do you have any for breeding purposes?"

[ofmackerelsandbombs-blog]

@drop0ut-club

“Why, are you bothered yet?” They say, giving 9S one last prod with the pen before pretending to scribble something down in their notebook.

You’ve taken a shining to the two androids, or maybe you just feel bad about killing them with a fish, nah, they’ve definitely grown on you.