#bare bones doodles that convey nothing are all I have right now

[pallanophblargh]

Come on, brain. Do something. Anything. Okay, not that. Remember all the things you used to do? No, NOT. THAT. Don’t you want to doodle? Do some worldbuilding? Answer all those top tier asks burning a hole in your inbox?

Oh you’re impossible.

[captain-shitpost]

"What was Pops like?"

Relationship tags: Papyrus/Sans

Rating: T

Tags: Major Character Death, Fontcest, Babybones, Bittersweet,  Papa Papyrus, Death of a Spouse, Moving On, Twins

Summary: “ Their children never really had a chance to know their father. To make up for it, Papyrus will be the best father he can be. He will cheer them up when they're sad, he will protect them when they're in danger, he will love them with all his soul. And he'll teach them all about Sans, and someday he'll move on.”

Ao3 link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/10527441/chapters/23240058

Papyrus blinked at the young skeleton looking at him, curiosity in her expression but shyness in her posture. Her sister was standing behind her, expression and posture just like hers even though they looked wildly different. It was funny, really.

Papyrus put the towel he was using to dry dishes on the counter, hand on his hips. He hummed in thought. “What do you mean exactly, what was pops like?“

Calibri squirmed a bit, still not quite meeting his gaze. “Well, um. We…we don't really know what pops was like. So I wondered if you could tell us about him? If that’s ok,” she mumbled, looking somewhere over his shoulder. Arial was standing behind her, quiet as she often was when her sister was around to do her talking for her, but she looked him straight in the eyes.

Their nervousness broke Papyrus' soul a little. Talking about Sans was difficult, even after all this time, but he never wanted the girls to feel like they couldn't ask him about anything, up to and including their father. He wanted them to know about Sans, to know the stories behind every photo they had of him hanging on the walls, to know him even if they barely met him. He just wished it didn’t hurt as much.

He swallowed past the lump in his throat, turning to the counter. “Alright, go sit on the couch. I'll make some hot chocolate!“ he exclaimed, the cheer in his voice just a bit forced. He smiled more genuinely when he heard twin gasps from his daughters as they scrambled to the living room.

He made the drinks mechanically, running over the things he wanted to say and how he'd say them, wanting to convey just how amazing his brother was. With a note of finality, he took three mugs to the coffee table, then reached to the bookshelf and pulled out an old album, blue and frayed at the edges. He smiled a bit when he saw the bad doodle of a hot dog on the first page.

He settled between the girls, both of them snuggling into his sides with hot chocolate in their hands, excited for story time. It made him smile, knowing he had been the same way once upon a time.

“This photo here,“ he said, tapping an old photo of the two of them in the snow, Papyrus still only a bit taller than his brother, „was back when we had just moved to Snowdin! We didn't have parents, so he raised me even though he was so young. It was really difficult for him to work hard because he was always tired, but he always did the best he could! Whenever I asked him to make snow sculptures with me or to go make puzzles, he'd always go, even if he was too lazy to do them right!“

He flipped to another photo, one of a snow pile with ‘SANS’ written on it. “See?! It was so infuriating! He didn't even try!“ he huffed, ignoring the confused looks his children were giving him. He rubbed the edge of the photo, enjoying the movement. “But he still did it, even when he was exhausted. And he never complained, and he always talked about how proud he was of the things I did.“

He flipped a few pages later, trying to find a specific photo. With an 'a-HA', he pointed to a photo of the two of them at Toriel's Gyftmas party. Papyrus had an arm wrapped around Sans' shoulders, beaming at the camera in pride. Sans was blushing heavily, his hand not visible but Papyrus remembered it had been resting on his back. Instead of the camera, Sans was looking at his brother, a gentle expression of awe on his face. A Gyftmas tree was in the background, covered in candy canes and tiny reindeer, along with Frisk making a face at the camera. He heard Calibri giggle at it, Arial trying not to follow but snorting anyway.

“This was taken soon after we started dating! It was awful, your father gave me a sweater with the words 'sanstas favourite' written on it, and a crude approximation of his face! It wasn't even written with paint for clothes, just a regular marker! The sweater ruined an entire load of laundry!“ he complained loudly, both girls giggling at his antics. They knew from his smile that he wasn’t seriously annoyed, and he liked it when he managed to make them laugh. Sans would have been so good at that.

“I was the one who asked him out, of course. He was so lazy that he never would have made the first move. It was…hmm. Honestly, we just had spaghetti for dinner at home and watched a movie. I was very busy with college and Sans with work, so we didn’t do anything fancy. But!!! The day after Gyftmas, Sans took me to a Mettaton concert! Front row! After that, we went to a fancy Italian restaurant for dinner, and we had the best table there and a special menu! And after that, he took me stargazing! It was very romantic, and it must have taken him ages to save up money for everything and plan it all out! It was amazing!” he exclaimed, gesticulating with his hand. Calibri ducked her head to avoid the flailing limb and giggled. Papyrus would have stopped it before hitting her, though. “He…he had a way of really making you feel special. He was infuriating and lazy and he never just said what was bothering him, oh no, he just pretended nothing was wrong until I made him confess, but he was funny, and so sweet, and everyone liked him. He just knew how to make you feel better, no matter what. And he always knew who was feeling down and needed to be cheered up.”

Arial leaned forward and turned the album a bit towards her to see it better, flipping back to the first page. She had a moustache caked on from the hot chocolate, and Papyrus smirked. She was a spitting image of his brother, from the shape of her face to the tone of her voice, from the way she looked at something that interested her to the slight slouch she had no matter how much Papyrus chided her. Sometimes he almost called her Sans, but he stopped himself at the last moment.

Calibri was different. To an outsider, she would greatly resemble Papyrus, and he couldn’t deny it considering the shape of her skull and her gangly physique, but all he could see when he looked at her were the subtle traces of his brother in her. She had a way of scrunching her sockets when she smiled that was painfully nostalgic, and something in the way she moved her fingers when she was making clay figurines was a dead ringer for him.

They flipped through the album, drowning him in excited questions about every photo Sans appeared in and a few he didn’t. It took nearly 2 hours to reach the end, even the Great Papyrus starting to get tired, and finally they saw the very last photo of Sans while he was still alive.

He was covered in sweat, the hint of a grimace from the pain of childbirth on his face, but he held the bundle that would later be called Calibri with a solid grip, tears pooling in his eyes for the first time Papyrus could remember. The both looked so happy, both with a baby in their hands, tears and smiles on their faces, and utterly exhausted. The girls looked at the photo in wonder and chattered, arguing which bundle was which, and Papyrus didn’t tell them how much their father’s hands shook when he passed Calibri back to Papyrus, or how he fell asleep right afterwards, as if he had given his very life to bring the girls to the world and was now empty, or how he only woke up for a few hours every day for the next two weeks until finally he didn’t wake up at all.

The rest of the photos were just of Papyrus and the two girls growing up. It didn’t seem that long ago that they were babies, but now they were walking and talking and joking and throwing tantrums, fighting for their own wants and having their own dreams. In a year they would be starting school.

He saw the disappointed looks they gave the album after realizing the pictures of Sans stopped. A little while later, they both came to a silent agreement that there was nothing more to see, so Papyrus put the album back in place, right before corralling them to bed, chiding about them being up past their bedtimes. Toothbrushes, showers and pajamas, the girls were finally tucked in, tired enough that they didn’t need a bedtime story. He clacked them both on the foreheads with his teeth with an exaggerated “MWAH” and turned to turn off the lights and leave. Before he could, he felt Arial tug his on his sleeve, Calibri already snoring lightly.

“dad? do you think pops would have liked us?” she asked nervously. Her eye lights glowed in the darkness of the room, blurred at the edges, the way Sans’ did when he woke up in the middle of the night. Papyrus’ breath hitched, but with a deep breath and a chuckle he kept his tears at bay. He brushed gently under her socket, booping her gently on her nasal bones.

“He would have loved you two more than the world,” he whispered.