#Undertale x Reader

[savi-our]

Here have this 🤏

Just a lil Mutt doodle as i take a rest from writing ☕☕☕ edit: I FORGOR HIS SCAAAARS?????!?!?L

[sansxreaderbraindump]

Player: Are we fighting or flirting? Dust: I'm literally pinning you against a wall with my knife close to your neck- Player: Your point?

[c-y-g-m-c-o]

Inhuman looking characters have no right to be so damn fucking hot

[fangdokja]

You’re his sister, but to him, you’re everything he’ll never let go of.

❤︎ Synopsis. Trapped in his obsession, your brother’s love is a cage—burning, possessive, and unyielding. Every kiss is a claim, every touch a warning. You’re his, and he’ll make sure the world knows it.

♡ Book. Forbidden Fruits: Intimate Obsessions, Unhinged Desires.

♡ Pairing. Yandere! Older Brother x Reader

♡ Novelette. Sins of the Silent Heart - Part 1

♡ Word Count. 6,926

♡ TW. incest, unhealthy power dynamics, toxic relationship, spanking and slapping, emotional and psychological manipulation, social isolation, non-con kissing, physical assault and abuse

♡ Note. Due to Tumblr content guidelines involving minors, some plot details of the original story were changed to fit the platform. If you want the true original story, please look at the author's official website or Ao3.

The dim yellow glow of the bedside lamp painted long, jagged shadows across the walls, distorting the once-familiar room into a grotesque parody of safety. His room—a chaotic vortex of textbooks, rumpled sheets, and the faint scent of stale cologne—now felt like a predator’s den, with you caught squarely in its jaws. The door clicked shut behind you with an almost mocking finality, the latch’s soft groan a promise of no escape.

He stood near the bed, his back to you, shoulders tense as if bracing for an internal war. His silhouette was a study in contradiction—strong, protective lines now cast in a menacing, foreboding light. The distant hum of the world beyond the house seemed to mock the thick silence between you, punctuated only by the rasp of his uneven breathing.

“Why are you here?” His voice cut through the stillness like a blade, low and clipped, every syllable weighted with restraint.

“I… I just wanted to talk.” Your words wavered, the carefully rehearsed lines evaporating under his icy stare when he turned, his eyes locking onto yours.

Those eyes, once a sanctuary of warmth during countless childhood nights, now held a glacial fury, as if he blamed you for some unseen torment. But beneath the chill was something darker, something that churned like a black hole, swallowing reason and morality whole. You couldn’t name it, but you could feel it—a suffocating, primal pull that made your stomach twist and your legs stiffen.

“I’ve been busy,” he said curtly, turning back to his desk, dismissing you as easily as one might swat away an insect. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“I miss you.” The words slipped out, raw and vulnerable, a desperate attempt to breach the widening chasm between you. “I thought—now that we’re both here—maybe we could…” Your voice faltered as he turned again, this time slowly, deliberately, like a predator circling prey.

“Miss me?” he repeated, his lips curving into a bitter smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “You don’t even know me anymore.”

The accusation hit harder than you expected, making your chest tighten. “That’s why I’m here,” you murmured, your hands clenching at your sides. “To know you again.”

He barked out a laugh, sharp and humorless. “Know me?” His gaze raked over you, lingering in a way that made your skin crawl. “You wouldn’t want that. Trust me.”

His words were a warning, but they only fueled your resolve. You stepped closer, driven by the memory of the brother who once held your hand during thunderstorms, who stayed up late helping you with your homework, who always told you everything would be okay. “You’re still my brother,” you said softly, pleadingly.

“Don’t,” he growled, his voice suddenly sharp, his hand twitching as if to reach for you but stopping short. “Don’t call me that.”

The air between you grew oppressive, thick with unspoken truths. Your heart pounded as his gaze darkened, his pupils blown wide as they drank you in. For a moment, his mask of indifference cracked, and what lay beneath made your stomach churn.

“You think I haven’t noticed?” His voice was low, almost gentle, but it carried the weight of a confession. “The way you look at me? The way you follow me around like a lost kitten?” He took a step closer, and you instinctively backed into the wall, your breath hitching. “You’ve always needed me. Always depended on me. And now you think you can waltz in here and what? Fix everything? Fix me?”

“That’s not what I—”

“Shut up.” His voice cut through your protest like a whip. He was close now, too close, his breath hot against your cheek. The smell of him—faintly metallic, tinged with sweat—wrapped around you like a suffocating shroud. “You don’t know the first thing about me, about what I’ve done. About the things I think about when I look at you.”

The room seemed to tilt, the floor buckling under the weight of his words. “I… I don’t understand,” you stammered, your voice barely audible.

“No, you wouldn’t,” he sneered, his hand shooting out to brace against the wall beside your head, caging you in. “Because you’re pure. Untouched. You don’t know what it’s like to carry this...this sickness. To want something you can never fucking have.”

The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by the frantic pounding of your heart. His confession hung in the air like a noose, tightening around your throat.

“I tried,” he continued, his voice shaking now, the cracks in his facade spreading. “I tried to stay away. To forget. Do you know how many women I’ve fucked trying to scrub you out of my head? But it doesn’t work. It never fucking works.” His hand slid down the wall, his knuckles brushing against your shoulder. “You’re in here,” he said, tapping his temple, then his chest. “In here. Like a damn parasite.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. “Why are you saying this?” you whispered, your voice trembling. “Why now?”

“Because you’re here,” he said simply, his lips curling into a twisted smile. “Because you walked into my fucking room and looked at me like that. Like I’m still the hero you remember. Like I haven’t been corrupted.”

“You’re scaring me,” you admitted, your voice barely audible.

“Good,” he replied, his tone soft but laced with menace. “You should be scared. Because if you stay, I don’t know if I can stop myself.”

For a moment, neither of you moved, the room charged with a tension so thick it was suffocating. Then, with a suddenness that made you flinch, he stepped back, raking a hand through his hair. “Get out,” he growled, his voice rough and uneven. “Before I do something we’ll both regret.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. Your hands fumbled with the doorknob, your legs barely supporting you as you stumbled out of the room. As the door slammed shut behind you, the last thing you heard was the sound of his ragged breathing, a haunting symphony of longing and despair.

────────────

It began in your first year of university, with a joke. A harmless, stupid, throwaway line.

"Hey, your sister's cute. Maybe I'll ask her out when she’s older."

You hadn’t been there to hear it. Maybe that was for the best. He’d laughed then, a sound so casual it might have fooled anyone listening. “Don’t even think about it,” he’d said, shoving his friend’s shoulder as if it were all a joke. But deep down, something had snapped into place.

It wasn’t anger, exactly—not yet. Just a quiet, simmering unease that he didn’t understand.

You were always close to him, always lingering just at the edge of his vision, a constant part of his life. He was your older brother; it was natural. He was protective—maybe a little too much so. But wasn’t that what older brothers were supposed to be? That’s what he told himself whenever he felt the strange, uncomfortable tightness in his chest.

It only became a problem the day he saw you with someone else.

It was late autumn, and the world was painted in muted tones of orange and gray. He’d been walking to the library to pick you up when he saw you standing beneath a streetlamp with a boy.

The sight froze him in place.

You were holding a notebook, pointing to something on the page, explaining something with that calm, patient expression you always wore. The boy leaned in, his eyes never leaving your face.

And that was when he felt it. That sick, twisting feeling in his gut. The way the boy looked at you—like he wanted something. Like he thought he deserved something.

His hands clenched into fists, the sharp bite of his nails grounding him just enough to keep him from storming over. He didn’t know what he’d say if he did. What excuse could he possibly give?

Instead, he stayed hidden in the shadows, watching as you finished your tutoring session. The boy lingered too long, said something that made you smile faintly, and then finally walked away.

You didn’t even notice him standing there. You just closed your notebook, adjusted the strap of your bag, and walked off as if nothing had happened.

He followed you home that day, keeping a careful distance.

After that, it was as though something inside him had cracked open.

He told himself it was normal to be worried. You were too trusting, too naive. You didn’t see the way people looked at you. You didn’t realize how vulnerable you were. Someone had to protect you—someone who knew you better than anyone else.

But it wasn’t just about protection anymore.

It was about possession.

He tried to ignore it at first. Tried to tell himself it was nothing. But every time he saw you leave to meet that boy, his anger simmered just a little hotter. It didn’t matter that you were only tutoring him. It didn’t matter that you weren’t interested. He could see the way the boy looked at you, the way he lingered when you weren’t paying attention.

He started watching you more closely after that. You didn’t notice—of course, you didn’t. You never seemed to notice anything when it came to him.

When you weren’t around, he buried himself in distractions. He went out with his friends, dated girls who were nothing like you, did anything he could to drown out the thoughts that haunted him. But it didn’t work. Nothing worked.

Every laugh, every touch, every kiss felt wrong. None of them were you.

By the time you started your second year of university, and him at his Master's, he’d perfected the art of keeping his distance. He didn’t want you to see the way he looked at you, didn’t want you to know the things he thought about late at night when he was alone.

But keeping his distance didn’t mean he stopped watching. He always knew where you were, who you were with, what you were doing.

You were his. Even if you didn’t know it.

Another day, he caught you talking to someone else. Another boy. It didn’t matter that the conversation was casual, that you barely even smiled. All he could think about was how easily someone else could take you away from him.

When you came home that evening, he didn’t say a word. You didn’t ask why he was so quiet, why he avoided your gaze, why his knuckles were red and raw as if he’d been punching something—or someone.

You never asked questions like that.

Maybe you should have.

Now, standing in his room, he runs his hands through his hair, staring at the picture of you on his desk. It’s an innocent photo, one taken years ago during a family trip. But to him, it’s more than that.

It’s proof. Proof that you belong to him. Proof that no one else has the right to take you away.

He knows he can’t keep this up forever. He knows the truth will come out eventually.

But when it does?

You won’t have a choice.

────────────

It began with distance. He thought it would fix things—make him normal again, make you normal again. He pulled back, growing cold and indifferent, watching you from a distance as you stumbled through life. You didn’t even notice, did you? How he deliberately stopped answering your questions with warmth, how he only gave you clipped, efficient replies. How he didn’t teach you the things he should have, the things that would have made you stronger.

You didn’t need friends. He made sure of that.

He liked it that way—your awkwardness, your inability to connect with others. It kept you safe. It kept you his.

But then...

Then, he saw the change.

You became distracted, eyes far away, your lips twitching into little half-smiles when you thought no one was looking. At first, he ignored it. Told himself it didn’t matter. But then he started noticing the way you doodled during your free time, how your handwriting softened, curling into childish hearts.

And then the name.

Daniel.

The rage that erupted in his chest was immediate, primal. He wasn’t proud of how quickly he found your diary, how thoroughly he read every naïve, saccharine line.

"Daniel held my book today! He smiled at me, I think! Maybe I’ll ask him to the dance? Would he say yes? It’s stupid, but I think we’d make a great match."

You wrote about your future. About marriage. Little plans you hid in the margins of your notebook like some ridiculous fairytale.

Marriage, when you didn’t even know what it meant. When you’d never spared him, the one who’s protected you your entire life, that warm, shy smile.

He could’ve broken your door when he threw it open that night. You weren’t even there to hear the sound splinter through the silence, or see the way he stood there, shaking, fists clenched white-knuckled. He tore through your things after that—pictures, scraps of paper, clothes—he wanted to find anything, anything that might explain why you’d betrayed him like this.

You didn’t have the right to want someone else. You barely knew what you wanted! That boy didn’t even like you. Couldn’t you see it?

The world saw you as the awkward, strange little thing you’d always been. And he liked it that way. It kept the wolves at bay. He kept the wolves at bay.

But this boy? This Daniel? He didn’t even look at you the way you thought he did. He didn’t deserve your thoughts, your shy little fantasies. He deserved nothing.

When you finally confessed to the boy, he was there.

He’d hidden in the shadows like a predator waiting for the right moment. Watching as you stood there, clutching that stupid notebook to your chest, stammering over your words.

Daniel’s rejection was inevitable. His awkward laugh, his half-hearted apology—it was all so predictably pathetic. But you didn’t stop there.

Even after being turned down, you followed him. Like a kitten, tail wagging, desperate for scraps of affection. The same way you used to follow him.

That night, he didn’t go home. He didn’t sleep.

His body ached, torn between the raw heat of his anger and the cold clarity of his realization.

You’d never shown interest in romance before. Never spared anyone those soft looks, those quiet smiles. Not until now. And the thought of you giving that warmth—his warmth—to someone else?

He didn’t just want to destroy Daniel.

He wanted to destroy you.

You traitorous, ungrateful little bitch.

The next time he saw you, you didn’t notice anything was wrong. How could you?

“Hey,” you’d said softly, the same way you always did when you weren’t sure if you were bothering him. He didn’t reply.

Instead, he crossed the room in slow, deliberate steps. You flinched when he cupped your face, his fingers rough against your skin.

“Do you know what you’ve done?” His voice was calm, too calm, each word slicing through the silence like a blade.

You blinked up at him, confused, your lips parting to stammer out a reply. But he didn’t let you.

“Do you think he could protect you the way I have? Do you think he even sees you? You’re so... stupid.” His grip tightened, just enough to make you gasp. “But I’ll fix that.”

That night, he showed you what it meant to belong to someone.

There was nothing gentle in the way he touched you. Nothing kind. It wasn’t love—not in the way you’d dreamed it would be.

It was sharp edges and whispered threats. The suffocating weight of his body pinning yours to the mattress, his breath hot against your ear as he murmured things too dark to repeat.

“I’ll make sure you never think of him again,” he growled, his voice low and venomous.

You cried. He didn’t stop.

Because you were his. And no one else deserved to have you—not even you.

The next morning, he watched as you sat silently at the table, your hands trembling as you picked at your breakfast.

You didn’t look at him.

Good.

He leaned back in his chair, watching you with a satisfied smile.

“You’ll thank me one day,” he said, his tone light and conversational, as if nothing had happened. “You’ll see.”

But in the dim light of the kitchen, his eyes glinted with something darker.

Something permanent.

────────────

He hadn’t kissed you that night. He hadn’t touched you—not in the way he craved. That would come later.

Instead, he had punished you.

The memory played like a cracked film reel in his mind, skipping over the sound of your muffled cries, the way your body jolted with every strike of his hand. He’d treated it like a lesson, hadn’t he? A father disciplining a wayward child, nothing more.

Except it was so much more.

Each tear that slipped down your cheeks, each broken sob, fed something primal inside him. It made him feel strong, in control—your trembling figure draped across his lap, your protests falling to deaf ears.

“You need to understand,” he had murmured between blows, his voice calm, deliberate. “You don’t need anyone else. You don’t get to have anyone else.”

It wasn’t until your body went limp, your resolve shattered, that he finally stopped. His hand lingered against your flushed skin, his breathing uneven. He could feel the temptation coiling inside him, the desire to leave more than just a warning.

But he didn’t.

He wouldn’t.

Not yet.

You were still too young, too delicate, and he loved you too much to break you completely.

In the days that followed, you clung to him like you always had. The defiance in your eyes was gone, replaced by a docile obedience that filled him with both satisfaction and guilt.

It was better this way. No friends, no distractions.

Just the two of you, the way it had always been.

────────────

The door clicked shut behind you, leaving him alone in the suffocating quiet of his room.

He sank onto the edge of the bed, his head in his hands, fingers digging into his scalp as he exhaled sharply.

He could feel the cracks spreading, the fragile dam of restraint he’d built over the years threatening to shatter. You were older now—no longer the awkward, wide-eyed girl he’d once protected. You were beautiful, maddeningly so, and every time he looked at you, he could feel his self-control slipping.

But what was he supposed to do?

His parents had never cared, not about him, not about you. The only thing that mattered to them was the profit you both could generate. He doubted they’d even notice if he crossed the line.

And that was the problem, wasn’t it?

His gaze drifted to the doorway you’d just passed through, his chest tightening with something dark and suffocating.

He could take you now if he wanted to. No one would stop him. No one would care.

But he cared.

He loved you in a way that terrified him, a way that left him tangled in knots of lust and guilt and longing. He wanted you—to keep you, to claim you, to destroy anyone who dared look at you the wrong way. But more than that, he wanted you to love him the way he loved you.

And that’s where the conflict lay.

Would you still look at him with those soft, trusting eyes if you knew what he was thinking? Would you still cling to his arm, still smile at him, still call him brother if you knew the truth?

Or would you hate him?

The thought sent a shiver of rage and despair through him, his hands clenching into fists.

He stood abruptly, pacing the room like a caged animal.

What was the point of waiting?

Every moment he held back felt like agony, his need for you consuming him piece by piece. You were already his, in every way that mattered. You’d been his from the start, long before you even realized it.

He stopped in front of the mirror, his reflection glaring back at him—a predator barely leashed, a man fighting against the very instincts that defined him.

He exhaled slowly, his lips curling into a dark, humorless smile.

“As long as I don’t get caught, right?” he muttered, his voice dripping with bitter irony.

The words hung in the air, heavy with implication.

When he finally left the room, his mind was made up.

He’d wait, just a little longer. Long enough for you to grow even more dependent on him, long enough for you to forget whatever fleeting fantasies you’d once harbored about other men.

And when the time came, when there was no doubt in your mind that he was the only one who could ever love you, he’d take what was his.

Until then, he’d bide his time.

But God help anyone who got in the way.

You were his. And soon, you’d know it too.

────────────

Classes had started like any other semester. Despite sharing a dorm, he and you had kept your distance—a mutual, unspoken agreement that suited both of you.

On the surface, things appeared normal.

He excelled as always, juggling academics, sports, and a parade of temporary girlfriends like it was nothing. You thrived in your own way, delving into the competitive grind of your entrepreneurship course with an unrelenting focus. To the outside world, you were two strangers, bound only by circumstance. No one would guess you were siblings, much less tied by anything deeper.

And that was fine by him.

As long as you stayed close—within reach—he could tolerate the cold distance between you.

It began as a flicker, a subtle shift in your demeanor that most would have missed.

You’d always been poised, calm, your expressions muted and unreadable, much like his own. But lately, there was something else—an irritation simmering beneath the surface, barely contained. You’d still wear that neutral, aloof mask, but he could see through it.

At first, he dismissed it. Maybe you were stressed. Maybe it was nothing.

But then he noticed the reason.

It was another guy.

The bastard was a thorn in your side, a so-called academic rival who had taken to hounding you relentlessly. He was obnoxious and petty, constantly goading you with thinly veiled insults and challenges.

Initially, he’d thought it might be a good thing—an opportunity for you to toughen up, to learn not to rely on him or anyone else.

How fucking naive he’d been.

The longer he watched, the more he understood.

The interloper didn’t even realize he liked you, not yet, but the signs were there. The way he hovered around you, the excuses he made to stay close, the looks that lingered too long—it was all obvious to him.

What infuriated him most was you.

You, who never cared about anyone. You, who had always kept your distance from people, brushing off their advances without a second thought.

You weren’t pushing the bastard away.

You tolerated him, even seemed to accept his presence, and that made his blood boil.

He told himself it didn’t matter.

No need to make a scene. No need to draw attention.

But it gnawed at him, day by day, that stupid fucker sticking to your side like a damn parasite. He could feel it building inside him, a storm of frustration and possessiveness he couldn’t fully suppress.

And then it happened.

You were late for dinner one evening, and his annoyance was already simmering by the time he went looking for you. He’d told himself he was only checking in because it was still his responsibility to take care of you.

That’s what he told himself.

He found you in an empty classroom.

And you weren’t alone.

────────────

The moment he saw you with him, it was as if the ground beneath his feet had shifted.

At first, it was confusion—a fleeting, disorienting moment where he didn’t fully understand what he was looking at. The interloper, leaning closer, his expression soft and open, the kind of look reserved for someone you cherished. You.

You, standing there, not moving, not rejecting him. Your hand was still, almost brushing against his, your lips parted as if you might speak—or worse, respond.

The first spike of jealousy hit him like a blade.

Not the dull ache of annoyance he’d felt when you first started tolerating this bastard’s presence. No, this was different. This was visceral. It clawed at him, shredding through his carefully constructed self-control until all that remained was raw, unfiltered rage.

His pulse roared in his ears, a deafening drumbeat that drowned out reason. His fists clenched at his sides, nails biting into his palms hard enough to draw blood. He could feel the metallic tang of it on his tongue, sharp and bitter, mixing with the bile rising in his throat.

He’d always prided himself on being in control. He wasn’t some reckless animal, driven by instinct or emotion. He was better than that. Smarter than that.

But watching that fucking bastard lean closer to you—watching you let him—it unraveled something inside him.

This wasn’t just anger. This wasn’t just possessiveness.

This was a deep, gnawing sickness, a jealousy so consuming it felt like his very soul was being eaten alive.

He couldn’t stand the way the interloper looked at you, like you were something pure and delicate. Like you were a prize to be won.

That was his.

You were his.

The thought burned through him, scorching and absolute.

He’d spent years keeping you close, making sure no one else could reach you, molding your world so that he was at the center of it. And yet, here you were, letting this pathetic excuse of a man step into the space that only he should occupy.

It was a betrayal.

And you—oh, you—were just as much to blame.

You, who never cared for anyone. You, who always kept your distance, your heart locked away. You, who had followed him like a shadow for so long, who had looked at him with that shy, adoring gaze that made him feel untouchable.

Now you were looking at someone else.

And it wasn’t just the look—it was your body language, the way you leaned ever so slightly into the interloper’s space. The way your eyes softened, your lips curled into the faintest hint of a smile.

He wanted to rip that expression off your face.

Not because it didn’t suit you—it did. It was beautiful. It made his heart ache.

But because it wasn’t for him.

The jealousy twisted, dark and monstrous, until it became something else entirely.

He didn’t just want to destroy the interloper.

He wanted to destroy you.

Not completely—no, never completely. You were his, after all. But he wanted to shatter this version of you, the one who dared to look at someone else with warmth. The one who dared to let someone else get close.

He wanted to strip you down to nothing and rebuild you in his image, piece by trembling piece, until there was no room for anyone else.

And then the bastard leaned in closer, and the room seemed to tilt.

The distance between you shrank, his lips hovering just above yours.

────────────

You were letting it happen.

Something inside him snapped.

Before he realized it, he was moving. The door slammed open with a deafening crash, and the interloper jerked back, startled, his face paling when he saw the storm etched into his expression.

“Hey, man—”

The words barely left the bastard’s lips before his fist collided with his jaw, the sickening crunch of bone echoing in the empty room. The impact sent the other man sprawling, blood pooling from his broken nose as he groaned in shock and pain.

“Stay. Away.” His voice was low, lethal, the kind of tone that promised far worse if the warning wasn’t heeded.

The room was silent except for the ragged breathing of the crumpled figure at his feet.

He turned to you then, his chest heaving, the adrenaline still coursing through his veins.

You stood frozen, wide-eyed and pale, your lips parted in disbelief.

“Get up,” he barked, his tone sharp, brooking no argument. “We’re leaving.”

You didn’t move, still staring at the man on the floor, and something in him snapped again.

He crossed the distance between you in two strides, grabbing your wrist and pulling you to him with enough force to make you stumble.

“I said, we’re leaving.” His voice was quieter this time, but the edge of danger was unmistakable.

Your gaze finally shifted to him, your eyes searching his face for something—an explanation, a reassurance, anything.

But all you found was rage.

As he dragged you out of the room, his grip unyielding, his mind raced.

This wasn’t over. Not even close.

You had betrayed him. Again.

And this time, he wasn’t sure he could let it slide.

No one else gets to have you. No one.

────────────

The door to your shared dorm slammed shut behind you with a bone-jarring finality. The echo reverberated in the small space, amplifying the oppressive silence that followed. You winced, clutching your throbbing wrist where his grip had bruised it. But before you could pull away, his hand was on you again, relentless and unyielding.

“Let go,” you hissed, yanking your arm back, your voice trembling despite your efforts to sound resolute. The command only seemed to enrage him further.

His response was immediate, a blur of motion and a sting that burned like fire across your cheek. The force sent you staggering, your knees hitting the cold floor as your vision swam. Pain blossomed, sharp and unrelenting, and you tasted copper on your tongue.

“Do you think I’m stupid?” His voice, usually so measured, so cold, was now raw and trembling with fury. He loomed over you, a monolith of rage, his shadow swallowing you whole. “Did you really think I wouldn’t see? Wouldn’t know?”

You pressed a trembling hand to your face, the sting of his slap radiating through your skull. You glared up at him, defiance flickering like a dying ember in your tear-filled eyes.

“What is wrong with you?” you spat, your voice quaking as you pushed yourself up. “I didn’t do anything!”

The words barely left your mouth before his hand shot out, tangling viciously in your hair. He yanked your head back, forcing you to meet his wild, unhinged gaze.

“Didn’t do anything?” he snarled, his face so close you could feel the heat of his breath against your skin. His lips twisted into a cruel smile that sent chills racing down your spine. “You let him touch you. You let him. Are you that desperate? That much of a pathetic little whore?”

You choked on a gasp as he tightened his grip, pulling hard enough to send a bolt of pain down your neck. “I didn’t—”

“Don’t lie to me.” His voice dropped to a deadly whisper, the calm before the storm. “I saw it. You didn’t push him away. You didn’t stop him.”

“You’re wong,” you bit out, your voice trembling with fury and fear. “You’re imagining things that aren’t there—”

Another slap cut your words short, sharper this time, enough to knock the breath from your lungs. You crumpled again, your cheek pressed against the floor, and before you could recover, his hand was back, dragging you up like a ragdoll.

“Do you spread your legs for anyone who pays attention to you?” he hissed, his voice venomous, laced with a dangerous kind of desperation. “Are you really that easy? That desperate for it?”

You glared at him through the haze of pain and tears, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing you break. But he wasn’t looking for defiance. He was looking for submission.

For proof that you were his, and his alone.

His free hand gripped your chin, forcing you to look at him. His expression was a terrifying mix of fury and something else—something far darker, far more possessive.

“Say it,” he growled, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “Say you’re mine. Say it, or so help me, I’ll make sure no one ever looks at you again.”

You opened your mouth to retort, to scream, but the words caught in your throat as his grip tightened, cutting off your air.

“Say. It.”

The room spun, your vision blurring as the oxygen left your lungs. Panic set in, and your resolve began to crumble. You clawed at his arm, your body trembling with the effort to stay conscious.

“Yours,” you gasped, barely audible, but it was enough.

His grip loosened just enough to let you breathe, but he didn’t let go. Instead, he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke.

“Good girl.”

The words sent a shiver down your spine, a sickening mix of relief and terror. His grip in your hair eased, but only to drag you closer, his arms encircling you in a cage of muscle and iron will.

“Don’t make me do this again,” he murmured, his voice softer now but no less threatening. “I don’t like hurting you. But I will if that’s what it takes to keep you.”

You stayed silent, too shaken to respond, your body trembling in his grasp. Deep down, you knew this wasn’t over. This was only the beginning of the storm.

────────────

Without another word, his lips slammed onto yours, a bruising, punishing kiss that stole what little breath you had left. Your eyes widened in shock, and you squirmed, thrashing against his iron hold, but it only seemed to fuel him further. His teeth bit down hard on your lower lip, drawing blood, and his tongue invaded your mouth with an almost feral desperation.

Every movement was a claim, a declaration, his hands gripping you like you might vanish if he let go. He growled against your lips, his voice a low, guttural snarl as he pressed you against the wall, his body pinning yours effortlessly.

“Since you’re so eager to spread your legs for any man who looks your way,” he hissed, breaking the kiss just long enough to speak, his breath hot and ragged against your skin, “why not for me? Your own older brother. Or does that only make you more of a filthy little slut?”

You shook your head vehemently, tears spilling down your cheeks, but he didn’t care. He didn’t want your consent; he wanted your submission. Your humiliation. His lips crashed against yours again, his teeth marking you, biting and bruising as though he could etch himself into your very being.

His hips pressed against yours, the weight of him inescapable as he ground against you with a possessive growl. Every word that left his mouth was venomous, dripping with jealousy and rage.

“Do you know how sick you make me?” he spat, his voice trembling with fury. “How fucking jealous I get every time I see someone else looking at you? Touching you? You’re mine. You’ll always be mine.”

Your protests were muffled, your struggles weakening under the sheer force of his assault. His hands roamed your body with an almost methodical cruelty, every touch a reminder that you belonged to him and no one else. The room seemed to shrink around you, the air heavy with his dominance, his possessive need swallowing you whole.

“No one else gets to have you,” he growled against your ear, his voice a deadly promise. “No one.”

His lips crashed against yours again, bruising, punishing, and suffocating. There was no gentleness, no hesitation—only raw desperation and rage poured into every motion. His teeth scraped against your lips, a deliberate, cutting edge to the kiss that made you whimper, the taste of blood sharp and metallic as it spread across your tongue. He wasn’t just kissing you; he was claiming you, forcing his presence into every corner of your being.

When you tried to pull back, his hand was there, tangling in your hair with a bruising grip, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. Every gasp you took was his to steal, every sound you made swallowed by his insistent, devouring mouth.

His tongue pressed into you, hot and invasive, tasting, consuming, as though he could erase any trace of anyone else with sheer force alone. The kiss deepened with every passing moment, turning darker, hungrier, as his free hand gripped your waist hard enough to leave marks, pressing your body against the wall with an unrelenting pressure.

The sharp pain of his bite pulled a gasp from your lips, and he seized the moment, his tongue sliding against yours in a way that felt almost mocking. It wasn’t enough for him to take; he wanted you to feel it—to feel the way he dominated every inch of you, every sound, every breath.

“You taste like lies,” he growled against your lips, the words vibrating through your chest as his teeth grazed your bottom lip again, threatening another sharp bite. His breath was hot and ragged, mingling with yours, and the fury in his eyes hadn’t dimmed—it had only sharpened, focused entirely on you. “Do you think I’d ever let anyone else have this? Have you?”

Your hands pushed weakly at his chest, but it was like trying to move stone. He laughed, a low, bitter sound that sent chills racing down your spine. “Pathetic,” he sneered, the word dripping with venom. “Look at you. Fighting when you know you’ll lose. You always lose.”

He kissed you again, harder this time, his teeth sinking into your lip just enough to sting before he licked the blood away with a slow, deliberate motion. “Mine,” he murmured against your lips, his voice low and possessive. “Every inch of you. Every breath you take. Don’t forget it.”

He shifted slightly, his hips pressing against yours, trapping you further as his mouth moved with calculated cruelty. Each kiss was an invasion, each touch a brand, his lips trailing down to your jawline and then to the curve of your neck. His teeth grazed the sensitive skin there, sending a jolt through your body that you couldn’t suppress.

“You think they could kiss you like this?” he hissed, his voice rough and filled with bitter jealousy. His lips latched onto the base of your throat, sucking hard enough to bruise as his hands roamed your sides with deliberate possessiveness. “Think again.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his face inches from yours, his breath fanning against your swollen lips. His thumb brushed your cheek, almost tender, before he pressed it against the raw bite mark he’d left. You flinched, and he smirked, leaning in to whisper against your ear.

“You’ll remember who you belong to. Every time you see these marks, every time you feel them—” His teeth grazed your earlobe, sending a shiver down your spine. “—you’ll remember me.”

Then his lips found yours again, relentless, brutal, as though he couldn’t get enough. His fingers dug into your waist, his nails biting into your skin, and every movement was a reminder of the storm raging beneath his skin.

“You make me like this,” he growled between kisses, his voice thick with fury and something darker. “You make me fucking crazy. You make me want to ruin you, just so no one else can even look at you.”

His words blurred with the heat of his kiss, the tension between you a heady mix of fear, pain, and something far more twisted. And in that moment, you knew there was no escape—not from him, not from this, and certainly not from the obsession that burned in his eyes every time they met yours.

"You're a such a fucking cheating bitch. But, you're my cheating bitch."

────────────

List of Fandoms and Characters

Ace Attorney: N/A

Blue Lock: Rin Itoshi, Sae Itoshi, Yoichi Isagi

Boku no Hero Academia: Dabi

Brutal: Satsujin Kansatsukan no Kokuhaku: N/A

Death Note: N/A

Demon Slayer: Rui, Sanemi Shinazugawa

Dishonored Series: Kirin Jindosh

Genshin Impact: Ayato Kamisato, Childe / Tartaglia, Scaramouche

Haikyuu!!: Atsumu Miya, Hajime Iwaizumi, Kenjiro Shirabu, Suna Rintarou, Tobio Kageyama, Yūji Terushima, Ushijima Wakatoshi

Honkai Star Rail: Blade, Boothill

How to Live as an Illegal Healer: N/A

Hunter x Hunter: Chrollo Lucilfer

I'm Not That Kind of Talent: Demon Aru

Jujutsu Kaisen: Naoya Zenin, Suguru Geto

Kill The Hero: Se Jun-Lee

Mobile Legends: Bang Bang: Xavier

Naruto Shippuden: Kabuto Yakushi, Tobirama Senju

One Punch Man: Amai Mask

Reverend Insanity: Fang Yuan

TOUCHSTARVED: Ais

Undertale Multiverse (Human AU): Dust! Sans / Murder! Sans

Wuthering Waves: Geshu Lin, Scar

────────────

If you want to be added or removed from the tag list, just comment on the MASTERLIST of Forbidden Fruits: Intimate Obsessions, Unhinged Desires. Thank you.

General TAG LIST: @uniquecutie-puffs , @ikevampharem , @tnsophiaonly , @mokingbrd78k , @cooldeermagazine , @mimitk-blog1

[mubabee]

Aftertale sans 😼

For undertale and other au sht, y/n will look like this.

I need ideas I don’t know what to draw for the au skeletons ☹️

[liquidcatt]

[qstea]

Hello well can I request​ 4 killer, cross and error headcanon​ with kind-heart s/o? Like s/o love to help other people get through​ their pain such as dream,in short is s/o is a goody-goody-two-shoes kind of person.

📎 Kindhearted S/O Headcanons ★

Featuring: Killer!Sans, XTale!Sans, Error!Sans

#Notes: IM BACKKKKK SORRY GUYS LOLOLOL. EAT UP U LIL SHITS

pronouns used: they/them

warnings: some suggestive content if you squint

Killer Sans -

Killer thinks it’s beyond adorable. Seeing you so quick to drop everything to help somebody in need intrigues him so much, as he rarely feels actual emotions and empathy. Finds your goody-two-shoes behavior to be very motivating and such a breath of fresh air. It revives the small, faint, part inside of him that was the Sans he used to be.

Another thing is that they have a thing for innocent and naive types, all things untouched by life’s evils. The mere thought of corrupting somebody so sweet and kind is…. something they dwell on very often.

Don’t worry! He won’t hurt you, no, never. He just thinks that your relationship dynamic is funny.. the big bad wolf, Killer, who’s notorious for killing hundreds of innocent monsters without remorse or pity.. and the cute little kindhearted beauty at his side, untouched by all of his evils he has committed in his lifetime.

XTale Sans -

Your purity is exactly what made him fall for you. It’s the way you treat others with a type of kindness he hasn’t seen in so long, the one that he had longed for in his traumatized life. A life where he was stuck being some sort of sickening pawn under his father’s clawed fingertips.

Has an overwhelming instinct to protect you from everyone and everything, like some sort of untrained guard dog; biting, growling, and fighting off threats for the purpose of shielding you from the horrors of the multiverse, even though this protection may or may not be needed.

He can’t have another loved one leave, he just can’t. He loves you too much for you to get hurt like everyone else, he has to protect you. Everybody in the multiverse has a sick cruelness in their souls and he can’t let the light of his life be tainted with their diseases.

Nothing you say will have stop him from being overprotective and afraid of anything and everything.

Error Sans -

Kindness is not something often found in the multiverse, and especially not standing before the very force that stuck down many worlds, ended many lives, and showed no mercy or pity to those they faced against.

And then there was you, who dared flash their sweet smile, friendly words, and sympathetic nature to the destroyer of worlds. They were shaken, this was new, this was peculiar. They had never seen such a phenomenon before.

And so, they study you, they fall in love with you, they take you under their wing.

They couldn’t let the world see something that was only meant for their sockets, and their sockets only. In the multiverse, the strongest take what they want and take what they wanted, Error did. They had to take advantage of this, they couldn’t risk having anybody else having a taste of this.

They didn’t do it to protect you, they did it because they’re lonely, and all who have not friends, allies, or companions want more then they were destined to have. And so, they became selfish, and took you for their own. Have fun.

[pleasestayawayidonotlikeyou]

I have a request honestly I like your writing style so I was wondering how would papyrus,edge,cash,mutt,stretch reacts to the reader asking for a kiss

@sharkie-ds your request is my pleasure >;)

I'm assuming it's not their first time kissing, also, I added Rus and Coffee too, hope you don't mind!

Featuring: Papyrus, Edge, Honey, Cash, Rus Mutt and Coffee.

Masterlist

Papyrus

Oh my, you want a kiss from the great Papyrus?? He's flattered!

Grabs you up and gives kiss after kiss, making a "muah!" Sound every time he starts another kiss.

He doesn't like being still, even in bed, so, if you want more, he gives you some smooches in between what he's doing,

Edge

Of course you'd want a kiss of the great and terrible Edge!

Bends down, gives you a slow and long kiss, being careful because of his sharp fangs, and goes back to whatever he was doing.

However, if you want some more smooches... Then you're not getting out of this place until he decides to stop.

Honey

A lazy smile appears on his face as he looks at you.

Wraps his arms around you and gives you a slow kiss followed by smooches.

Well, looks like now he's the one who wants more... And who are you to deny?

Cash

Oh? A kiss you say?

This dirt bag will tease you a LOT until he finally gives you a kiss, and knowing him, he's only going to give you a very quick smooch and laugh when you ask for a proper kiss.

Though when the night arrives he's kissing you until he can't breathe anymore, oh wait he doesn't have lungs- Guess he'll just have to continue the kisses.

Rus

Another fucker who teases.

But unlike Cash he doesn't wait to kiss you, oh no no no, he teases you yet he's spreading kisses all over your face.

He doesn't even care if Rasp or anyone is near, he now wants his (not so) well deserved smooches.

Mutt

You don't need to ask twice, he's already kissing you passionately, hands on your waist and sited on his lap.

He's touch-starved, so this moment may turn into a cuddle + smooch session on the couch.

If Mal doesn't call you, then enjoy his cuddles, because you're going to be there for quite some time.

Coffee

Blushes like crazy, especially if his brother is near, even after years of dating a simple kiss still makes him flustered.

But Coffee likes the feeling of your lips pressed against his, so despite his shyness he bends down and gives you a pretty quick kiss.

If you want a smooth session, he'll happily give it to you! On the comfort of your shared room of course.

[merlinmarvelandother-oneshots]

Sorry, I meant to send an ask yesterday, but I got carried away 😅

So what about ut, us, uf and ht (you can ignore the last one if you want to don't worry) and how they would be with a reader that hides the fact that they're physically hurt.

Maybe they went hiking with the skellie, and they tripped and pretended that it was only a little scratch when days later they see quite a big wound that's infected.

It's a bit gross, so it's okay if you don't do it, don't worry :)

Have a good day/night and be safe

-💀

UnderTale, UnderSwap, UnderFell, and HorrorTale skellies react to a reader hiding that they're injured

you had gotten in a little tussle with a fallen branch walking home. you were completely oblivious, and tripped right over it. it hurt to walk on, and you soon noticed it swelling. it wasn't... sprained, right? nah, of course not! you brushed it off, thinking that it would be just fine in a day or two.

but until then, you might want to put some ice on that.

and so you did. for three days, with no sign of improvement. you tried keeping it a secret, but then your s/o came home while you were putting ice on it, right on the couch beside the door, and...

UnderTale:

Sans:

-he walks into the house, immediately heading for the couch.

-"hey, y/n, i'm ho- you alright? what happened to you?"

-"oh! sans, hi, i didn't expect you home so early!" you wave frantically to draw his eyes away from your ankle.

-"yeah... work was slow, so i came home. whats going on? you're acting weird."

-"pshh, don't be silly, nothing's wrong! absolutely nothing!"

-he sighs.

-"my whole shtick back in the underground was that i can see peoples stats. your HPs lowered, you're acting really awkward about your leg, and you're trying to hide an ice pack from me. i know, i saw it when i walked in. so, im gonna ask you again. whats going on?"

-you sighed. he caught you, he always did.

-"i dont know what's up. I tripped a few days ago and my ankle just started swelling. I'm gonna give it a few more days before I see a doctor, just to see if it heals on its own."

-"alright then," really? that's it? not going to insist you see someone? well, that's great for you! "I'm going to grillby's. wanna come?"

-you nodded your head.

-"cmon, let's take a shortcut."

-he took you to the fucking ER.

Papyrus:

-you look up after hearing the door open and you heard a crash.

-he had gone grocery shopping, apparently, because his bags were sprawled on either side of him on the floor.

-his jaw was only half hinged, that's how bad you scared him.

-as in it dropped. almost fully.

-he suddenly runs to your side (re-hinging his jaw on the way) and kneels by your side.

-"HUMAN, what ever is the matter? is it serious? does it hurt? will it need stitches? should i take you to-"

-"Paps! i'm okay. i think it's just sprained, i'll be alright," you tries to reassure him.

-"SPRAINED? oh, HEAVENS no, i must take you to the doctor right away!"

-you sigh. "Papyrus, it isn't that big of a deal. i'm sure it'll be alright in a few days."

-"absolutely not! what if it's worse than you think? it could kill you!"

-he really thought a sprained ankle could kill you? he may be clueless about human injuries, but at least he cares!

-you don't have too much time to reply before he picks you up, puts you in the car, buckles you up (because heaven forbid something ELSE happen to you, ESPECIALLY under his watch) and brings you to the ER.

UnderFell:

Sans:

-he literally did not notice.

-he grumbles a quiet, "hey," before trotting upstairs into his room.

-it isn't until several days later when the pain has worsened and you cannot walk on it that he asks what the fuck is going on.

-you explained that you had tripped a few days ago, and it got swollen, and you thought that it would just go away, but it's been getting worse and worse since it happened.

-"fuckin' idiot," he groaned. "i'm dating a goddamn moron! alright, get in the car. i'm takin' you to a hospital."

-he's groaning the entire way.

Papyrus:

-as soon as he lays eyes on you, he sighs.

-"what did you do this time?"

-what the hell did he mean, 'this time'? he CANNOT be holding you accountable for that one time you got a concussion! that was HIS fault!

-"hey! you BETTER not be talking about-"

-"about the concussion," he cut you off. "yes, yes, i'm aware, you believe that incident to be my doing. however, i can GUARANTEE that this is not! now, tell me what happened. i expect a full explanation."

-you rolled you eyes and told him, feeling a little pissed off about his crossed arms and tapping foot, although you couldn't fully blame him. the whole situation WAS a little silly, now that you have to say it out loud.

-he scoffed when you finished talking. such a silly thing! why the HELL didn't you immediately see a doctor? swelling is NEVER normal!

-how did he, a skeleton monster who had gone most of his life without so much as seeing a human, know more about human anatomy than a fully grown human adult?

-and how did he, an esteemed member of the royal guard, end up in a relationship with such a fool?

-"get yourself looking decent. we are visiting the hospital to get you proper treatment."

-'looking decent', you looked fi-! no, you didn't, nevermind.

UnderSwap:

Sans:

-"hey, y/n, Alphys let out training early, so i'm back! what are you doing?"

-you scrambled to hide the ice pack and hike your pants back over your ankle. "oh, uh. . . nothing," you said sheepishly in reply, a fake grin appearing on your face.

-"oohhhh, no no no. i know that look. you're hiding something. best be honest now."

-damn him! how DARE he know you so well!

-"i think i did something to my ankle," you muttered.

-"hmm. . . let me see."

-he walked over and inspected your ankle for a few moments.

-"it looks sprained. when did this start?"

-"a few days ago. i tripped and it started swelling."

-he gave your ankle ankther quick look.

-"and why didn't you tell me?"

-"well, i thought it would go away at first. i was going to tell you, if it didn't. i was just going to wait a few days."

-"well, there's no need! i'm taking you to a doctor."

-he helped you stand and let you use him as something like a crutch, so you wouldn't have to put too much weight on your injured foot.

Papyrus:

-you look up to see him standing, eyebrows furrowed (you know what i mean sans does it in the main game) looking at you.

-"anything you want to tell me?"

-"ah, nothing. . . i'm just gonna go to a doctor if this doesn't start getting better."

-you knew the look he was giving you. he wanted to know what happened.

-"i tripped a few days ago and my ankle started swelling. nothing major. it's just a little sore."

-"mmm. i'm sure. you have five minutes, then i'm taking you to a doctor," he said as he laid on the couch beside you.

-"no, Paps, there's really no need-" you were interupted by snoring. but you knew that didn't mean you were off the hook. he would be awake in five minutes EXACTLY, whether you were ready to go or not.

HorrorTale:

Sans:

-he kinda just stands there for a few moments after he sees you with the ice pack.

-ice pack means something's wrong, because he doesn't see food around, but his skull injury makes figuring anything else out difficult.

-ice pack. . . on your ankle. . .

-it doesn't matter what's wrong. he just knows something is. so, he comforts you! in the only way he knows how!

-which is a BONE-CRUSHING hug.

-and because you're sitting, and he's standing over you, leaning down to hug you, it's a very awkward angle. leading to a lot of bones jabbing into uncomfortable places.

-you know you can't really do anything to get him off of you, so you just wait it out.

-"i'm alright, Sans. it isn't anything major. i'm about to go to a doctor!"

-he was going to tell you to anyway. you just got that part out of the way.

-his time in the underground under Undyne's rule made him very paranoid about the health of those he loves, so no matter how big the injury, you MUST see a doctor.

-it's not up for debate.

-he drives you because he doesn't want you to have to put any more strain on your ankle.

-(should he even have a drivers license? questionable...)

Papyrus:

-he has a puzzled look on his face.

-that. . . he suspected that wasn't a good sign.

-"y/n. . . i don't suppose you want to tell me what is going on?"

-"oh," you nervously laughed. "no biggie. just tripped a few days ago, it kinds hurts. if it doesn't feel better tomorrow i'm seeing a doctor."

-"hmm. i shall hold you to that."

-you laughed. you bet he would.

-spoiler alert, he did.

(a/n: sorry if this is totally inaccurate to having a sprained ankle, it just seemed like a good scenario, and i was too in the writing groove ((once i actually started)) to do much research)

[osleeplessflowero]

it's currently my birthday so here's some headcanons as to how i think skeletons would act/what they would do on YOUR birthday! (featuring a TON of au characters! :D)

Sans

Might be the one to push your face into your cake. It's a gamble with him. If it's not that, he'll definitely prank you somehow during the day (something lighthearted and fun, of course.) He wants to make sure you have a blast. I could see him getting you something funny, like a shirt with a funny phrase on it you could wear over and over.

Papyrus

He'd be the type to set up the party games, especially something like a Pinata to hit! He might hit it a liiiiittle too hard..but it's okay. Just means you get candy faster! He'd want to make your day something super fun to remember. He's dead set on changing things up each year to make each day memorable.

Red

WILL push your face into your cake, no questions asked. Provided you blew out your candles first (if you have any). He'd definitely want to take you somewhere fun for your birthday, messing with you from time to time to get a laugh. Definitely would want to get you something you could use a lot, or something you've mentioned wanting before. He keeps tabs on these things!

Edge

If he likes you a lot, he'll get you something really nice and insist you keep it taken care of, letting you know he cares in his own ways. Although he might not be as energetic as his brother might be on your special day, he still stays close by and ensures you're having plenty of fun. He's also one of the more rational members of the skeleton group, keeping the others in line so nothing goes wrong.

Blue

INSISTS on being the person to wake you up. He wants to be the first person to tell you but deep down he knows someone else beat him to it during the night, but that won't stop him from enthusiastically singing the Happy Birthday song anyway! He's probably the one to prepare you for an exciting day of fun, planned out with your best interests in mind. (His brother helped out of course by slapping some fun stickers on the schedule.) He might be one of the first people to give you his presents, letting you open it earlier in the day with him present.

Stretch & Rus

These two pretty much share a braincell, so naturally they'd race to be the first to send birthday wishes right at midnight. Funnily enough there's never an exact victor, they always send their messages at the exact same time. During the daylight hours, they stick together to cause plenty of chaos to get smiles and laughter out of you. They might pull a few pranks to tease you, but nothing too far of course. Rus would make some really cool art as a gift for you, anything you could possibly want him to draw or paint. As for Stretch, he'd work with Blue to get something you'd be able to have plenty of fun with (and of course, to use together).

Black

Oh does this man SPOIL you. He'll take you anywhere you want to go, no matter the cost, ensuring you he'll handle everything for your special day. You name anything, he'll get it for you right away. Also one of the men in charge of keeping the others in line so nothing goes too crazy. At least, until alcohol's brought out..then he leaves it up to Edge. ;)

Mars & Jupiter

The Horror bros are a bit less energetic when it comes to your birthday, opting to do something more personal for you. They'd give you their gifts alone so only they get to see your reactions. Jupiter would probably be the one to bake your cake in the first place, shooing everyone else out of the kitchen so he can perfect it. (Soo much spoon smacking..) They'd definitely steal you away a few times during the day to have some relaxing time together. Mars doesn't really like crowds..but he'd be willing to stay in a room with everyone for you.

[Berry is on his best behavior..just for today.]

Stepping out of the Neighborhood AU and into the Multiverse...

Dream, Ink, and Blue(again)!

Dream is SUPER excited for your birthday! He made sure to figure out all your favorite things so there's plenty of joy and positivity. Ink made sure to set up a really nice area for the three of you to celebrate, and maaaaybe set up some sort of water/paint balloon fights for some fun. Blue is in charge of activities and making sure Ink's chaos doesn't get too out of hand!

The Bad Sanses

Killer makes sure to be the first one to wake you up, singing the happy birthday song enthusiastically to embarrass you. Dust and Horror will be a bit more calm than he is, messing up your hair and giving you little affectionate/friendly gestures. Nightmare sets up a grand party for you, decorating the castle to the very best of his ability. He'll do his best to make things absolutely perfect for one of his favorite group members (don't tell the others, especially not Killer!). They all made sure to pitch in and get you some things that you'd thoroughly enjoy (just don't ask WHERE they got them from, okay?)

Error

He might have kidnapped you. But you're usually cool with it so it's okay. He's not particularly crazy about the idea of a big extravagant birthday party, so he sets up a day where you can spend time together watching your favorite shows in the Anti Void. As for his gift? Well, I could see him making some little puppets for you to have, maybe one of himself so when you hug it you'll think about him. (And since he's still adapting to physical touch himself.)

Cross

Cross wants to spend as much time with you as he can on your birthday. He's not one for big, extravagant things, but he would do something personal and sweet for you to make you happy, just content to spend time making you feel special. He might take you stargazing or something similar, a fun thing for both of you to do.

Bonus!

Fresh! (i will write about him at least once i swear. platonic fresh enjoyers this is for you)

You already KNOW Fresh is on top of things when it comes to his best bud's birthday! He'd definitely bring you somewhere where you both would have plenty of room to mess around and cause some chaos. No where is safe! I could see him dragging you to something like a skate park or to go spray paint some stuff. Or maybe to go see a movie together you can both laugh at. If he can't hang out with you alone, he'll show up at the Star Sanses' party to surprise you there.

[theres-a-body-here]

hey um trans dude here um looks at u w my big round eyes. could you do some characters of ur choice reacting to their trans male partner wanting to/getting a phalloplasty? im working to get one myself which inspired me to send this ask

I love my trans followers

TW: A homophobic slur, Mentions of surgery and Dysphoria/Dysmorphia

Characters: Ramattra, Asgore, Mohg, Wendell

Wendell is more of a crackpost

Ramattra

When you tell him, he'll be quiet as he thinks for a while

"I'll be back," he says as he abruptly stands and leaves the room

Your heart sinks as you fear the worst

He comes back within minutes and drops a book into your lap before sitting next to you

Confused, you flip it open only to yelp and drop it

It's a dick catalog

An Omnic dick catalog to be exact

He chuckles as he likes it back up

"There are a few exquisite models here, pet. Let's get you one."

He flips to a page and shows you

It's the model he has

Your face burns, hiding your face in your hands as you lean on him

"You're awful," you whine

You peak through your fingers

"Do they have glowing ones?"

"let's see"

Ramattra will be there throughout the surgery, making sure nothing goes wrong

If you ever feel dysphoric, he'll immediately start to comfort you

"Sweet, beautiful boy, I'm so proud of you"

Asgore Dreemurr

He's so happy for you

Be prepared to be pulled into a crushing bear hug

He's with you every step of the way

He'll sit down with you and plan out everything. From the days before the surgery to the aftermath and recovery

However, he'll be sure to mention any monster magic options for you to consider

Whatever you pick in the end, he'll support you

Plenty of kisses and cuddles throughout the process

He knows surgery is scary for humans, so he's sure to make you comfortable every chance he gets

Tea, snacks, and massages galore

After you get your surgery, Asgore will be a nervous wreck

Doting on you like a mother hen, he won't leave your side for a second

Mohg, Lord of Blood

The moment you tell him, he'll have his followers work on finding ways to give you a dick

Riiiighhttt after you give him a few heirs

Unless you don't want to

He'll be pouty but ultimately respects your decision

Him and Varre are your biggest support pillars before and after the process

Mohg literally doesn't let you do anything by yourself

He carries you around everywhere you need to be

"You shouldn't waste your energy, dearest"

Varre will be even worse

"What size would you prefer your phallus to be, lambkin?"

After the surgery, Mohg will keep you in his bed for a long time

Even when you're fully healed, he'll insist you stay resting

Cage his arms around you and nuzzle close like a clingy puppy

Wendell

He's a bit confused, but after explaining it to him, he'll definitely be your number one supporter

"Is there a dick store we go to or...?"

Yeah he's still a bit confused

He'll cling to you during matches and ask you tons of questions

Even during gunfire

"OMG, can we get matching dicks?"

Please be patient with him

If there's time between the storm moving, he'll be sure to give you lots of attention

"MY BOYFRIEND'S GETTING A DICK!"

He screams out in the empty building you two are stocking up in

Or so you thought

"You homos make me sick," a voice calls out, the clacking of heels hitting the floor echo through the area

You two turn to the voice

"INTERNATIONAL POP SENSATION ARIANA GRANDE?!?!?!?" You both exclaim in unison

"Yuh," she says, whipping her hair as she aims a bazooka at you two

[savi-our]

Reposting this again bc i need more people on my feed 😭

I want to interact more with Undertale blogs :(

My feed is pretty much dead - which is normal considering the fact that ive only recently revived this blog but-

If you post UT and any Alternative universe themed content make sure to like or repost so i can drop you a follow <3

[sansxreaderbraindump]

Error: I-1'M @ BOUT TO L-!OSE MY $ # ! T !!! [Name]: why what happened? Error: $HUT T-TH E F#*K U-UP ! [Name]: okay girl fuck you you stay upset hope your day actually gets worse like actually >:(

[magic-hcs]

So here's a scenario.

S/O is a confident, kind and relaxed person who seems like they can do everything perfectly . But one day the skeleton found out S/O were talking on the phone, responding with only "yes, yes... I know, I'm sorry I'm not good enough ...yes..." while tears falling quietly. Turn out it was S/O's family, always think S/O are not good enough and tell S/O as such, didn't care they hurt S/O's feelings. This is why S/O do everything perfectly, to reach up their family's expectations, and they gain confidence from it, but still feel they are trash when be told it's not good enough by family.

How would Sans, Red, Bear and Syrup react to this situation?

Thank you so much for being so patient with me! I’ve found that I struggled way too much with this for a while, however I don’t give up quickly. I hope it was worth the wait!

Red: UF Sans

Bear: HT Sans

Syrup: US Papyrus

Time to cast some magic and see what we’ll get!✨

✨✨

Sans: When Sans found out what your parents were like, Sans was speechless. It pains him, knowing that your family treats you like that. He could never phantom being anything but supportive towards his younger brother and Papyrus doing the same for him.

It’s not his business to meddle into your family affairs, so he won’t try to intervene or scold your parents: what good would that do? He could make it worse. No, Sans has a different idea. What kind of idea? Well, he regularly invites you to Paps and his family day/nights. Letting you join and experience this side of what family is; supportive, encouraging, and kicking butts into gear when someone’s being lazy in a caring way.

If your parents bring you down, the skelebrothers will bring you up. Showing that no, you are good enough, that you can do it, that you aren’t alone and that there’s someone standing behind you. That there is someone out there who really cares about you.

✨✨

Red: Red has always admired how you are so confident and how you work so hard. At first he just thought you did that for yourself. Red thought that sometimes you had insecurity spells that would hit you at random times which would leave you timid and a yay-sayer for a few days before returning to your old self. But then he found out what was really going on. And suddenly Red really wanted to have a little chat with your family.

How had he found out, you may be wondering. It was by pure coincidence really, Red had fallen asleep on the couch and you were calling with your parents. Red can be a light sleeper sometimes, and it so happened that it was that kind of day. Waking up to your voice, Red listened drowsily.

“Yes, I’m not good enough…”

That woke him right up. And as he continued to listen to the one sided conversation, Red didn’t need to know what your parents said to connect the dots. Oh, yes, Red was pissed. You won’t be wrong to believe that Red shortcuts next to you to snatch your phone from your hand. His words are an intimidating growl that sends shivers down even your spine despite it not being directed at you.

“sew ya fuckin’ bullshit mouth shut.” He barked, and when your parents tried to speak up again Red continued, “get lost and fuckin’ die in a ditch!” Promptly hanging up afterwards, not even waiting for a reply. Not the best choice of words to get your parents to understand how wrong they are about you and the way they treat you. But Red was too angry to really care. No one treats his mate like this, not even the parents.

Red isn’t that good at comfort, however, that doesn’t mean he’s not there for you to aggressively support you in his own way.

✨✨

Bear: If Bear had feathers, they would be ruffled right now. Bear pretty much shares Red’s sentiment: No one treats his mate like that, not even your parents.

But unlike Red, Bear isn’t one for verbal threats. When he knows you’re talking on the phone to your parents and they talk horseshit Bear will just grab the phone out of your hand - rather gently despite his anger, I might add - and quietly listens to your parents discouraging spiel for a moment. Letting them think they’re still talking to you until they realize that the loud, menacing sound of breathing on the other end of the phone isn’t you.

And when they let it show that they know it isn’t you, Bear hangs up the phone.

(For the longest time Bear didn’t speak back because he would get too angry to form words. And without noticing his breathing would get heavier and louder the longer your parents talked, also because he got angrier by the second. Now he just does it to mess with them.)

The first time this happened, your parents realized it very late. “Did you understand a thing I said?” They had huffed when you didn’t answer their rant with a timid, pliant reply. Heavy breathing was the only thing picked up by the phone. Lucky them or they had heard the grinding of Bear’s teeth as well. Your parents had called your name, unsure, and Bear only replied with his raging breaths. That’s when they knew they weren’t speaking to you anymore.

“You…You-Who are you?”

Your parents felt like they were in a horror movie, it was obvious by the hitch in their breath, by the slight quiver in their tone. It was the first time after leaving the underground and having gone through therapy that Bear felt so much satisfaction by their fear. He relished the feeling. He hung up afterwards.

Your parents have gotten quicker with realizing when it’s Bear who’s on the other end of the phone. And if you try to take back the phone, Bear won’t let you. For his slow, slurred speech and delayed ability to process things, Bear is surprisingly swift and has amazing reflexes. Whenever your parents have called, expect to be coddled and worshipped by Bear the entire day afterwards. Practically pressing you inside his ribcage if he could with his insistence on cuddles.

✨✨

Syrup: Syrup wants you to cut contact with your parents. Not that he says that out loud for you to hear of course. But he still thinks you should. He hasn’t even properly met your parents yet, yet he already doesn’t like them at all. Holds a grudge against them from the first moment Syrup overheard you talking to them on the phone.

Oh, how he just wanted to grab the device, check the number (to find blackmail on them for reasons, he wasn’t a tech person for nothing) and block it. But he didn’t. Yet.

What Syrup does do is side-eying the phone whenever they call you. Trying to listen along and interrupt them loudly when they’re about to say something mean about you. Or try to get you to hang up early by making up all kinds of excuses: Sky needs help with something, Syrup can’t find something, you have to see this, you were supposed to hang out with him today, etc.

There was one day where you were really in a bad headspace when they had called. Syrup had seen red that day. He snatched the phone out your hands and growled at the phone. “fuck off. if you can’t see what a wonderful person your child is, then-then maybe you shouldn't have become parents in the first place.” And hung up just like that, without waiting for a response. His face had been flushed orange from anger and his shoulders tense.

Expect lots of snuggles and sweet, funny memes from Syrup whenever you’re down in the dumps thanks to your parents.

✨✨

✨✨

Thank you for participating in this spell, I hope it was to your satisfaction.

[respawningjupiter]

Never running to AI for fic ideas again.

[arn359]

I love Papyrus so much