#swell papyrus

[itsladykit]

Ch. 33 - The Hand that Feeds

Summary - A love story, told in pieces.

CW - Fell-verse friendships being kind of fucked up, toxic relationships (the Cash/Twist dynamic is not entirely healthy, though it is fun to read about), drug use, violence, flirting, sexual innuendo, references to past abuse.

This is a long one, so I'm posting exclusively to AO3. Let me know if you enjoyed!

[itsladykit]

He looks so amazing!! Ah, love the expression. You're really good at creating a sense of motion in these scenes, snd I love that do much. Beautiful, beautiful work.

This is the next in my series of Scawy Atypical Guys from @itsladykit s series! We! Stan! The! Angry! Werewolf!!!

We also stan @freshiegayboi for being awesome

[littlebittykittycommittee]

Question:

Why does everyone think Gaster's theme song is "Gaster's Theme" (dumb name btw) and not the infinitely more appropriate "Gaston"?

''gaster you've got to PULL YoUrSeLf BaCk ToGeThEr"

Gaster, permanently shattered into screaming agony across countless realities: >:(((

[tarotkillerpodcast]

Waluigi

Papyrus

Robbie Rotten

All three of these men have a relatable trait in that they have very smoochable faces.

I have a type and it a goofy type.

[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)

[darkpetal16]

Just wanna say hi to the Mafiafell guys.

Heyo :)

Mafiafell!Wingding (Don): “Hello my dear.”

Mafiafell!Sans (Hit): “Hey doll face.”

Mafiafell!Papyrus (Boss): “HELLO SMALL ONE.”

Mafiafell!Asriel (Heir): “Hey! Hi! Hope you’re doing swell today.”

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

S/O has a surprise new haircut and didn't say skeleton. Who notices?

Undertale Sans - He does, and he shyly says it's look good on you, before flushing hard and immediately pretending to do something else. Sans is still very shy when it comes to complimenting people (except for his brother somehow). But he likes it a lot.

Undertale Papyrus - He immediately starts to compliment you, asking you to turn on yourself so he can see better. Papyrus loves your new style (there's not a lot of things he doesn't like concerning you anyway) and he just talks about your hair all day long. Yes, he noticed.

Underswap Sans - He swears something is off with you but he's not sure what. He keeps study you until he realizes after around twenty minutes. Took him long enough, but at least he's good at flattery and the incident is quickly forgotten.

Underswap Papyrus - He notices when he cuddles you because his face starts to swell. He's allergic to one of the products the hairstylist put on your hair and now he's kinda dying. You're pretty though, that could be a far worse way of dying.

Underfell Sans - What? The hell you're looking at him this way for? You're stressing him out, staring at you intensely for no reason. He doesn't understand what's wrong. Did he do something wrong? Uh... He picks up his apology cards and starts to read them one after the other in case he did something wrong and he doesn't know what. He stops after each apology, scrutinizing your face to see if he got the right one or not.

Underfell Papyrus - He nods approvingly, but he doesn't compliment fully. It's still not very natural for him to say nice things to people. At least he plays with your hair during the night which is his weird way to say he likes them.

Horrortale Sans - You think he's going to come see your hair, but no, he tackles you on the couch like a bear to cuddle you, just happy to see you. He didn't notice your hair, or maybe he did at some point and forget immediately, he's not sure. He just wants to cuddle. He adopted you for you, not your hair.

Horrortale Papyrus - He's excited about your new haircut and keeps turning around you to see it better. He's a little jealous you look so cool why he looks... Well... Who cares! You're beautiful, and he won't stop telling you what he thinks of your new haircut all day.

Swapfell Sans - Yes, he supposed this is correct. What? What do you mean he's offended because you didn't ask him to cut your hair first? That has obviously nothing to do with that, stop imagining things. He's pouting now.

Swapfell Papyrus - NOOOOO! HOW COULD YOU! He's devastated you cut your hair so short. How is he going to play with your hair now? He throws himself on the couch like a dying whale and starts to whine like a child just loud enough to be annoying. He's just kidding though. He likes your hair like that. That still doesn't mean he's not going to get revenge at some point in the week.

Fellswap Gold Sans - Well whoever did that to your hair did a shit job and he's going to fix it right away. No one has the right to touch his S/O's hair but him so he's going to redo everything just out of spite. Clearly, he can do way better than that because you deserve a lot more than that. You better get a refund after this because it's illegal to cut your hair so badly. Yes, Wine is 100% jealous.

Fellswap Gold Papyrus - He says you're pretty, then nuzzles your hair, then... Well... Good luck to push him away because he won't move from there for at least two hours. He wants cuddles. Now.

[trashcatmonster]

title: when you fall apart

summary: Your whole face feels sore, sinuses swollen and eyes stinging from the hours of sobbing you’d been doing. You look the mess too, lips dry and cracked, face stained with old, runny mascara and tears. The knotted mess your hair is in isn’t much better.

notes: this ones goin out to @velvetwyrme because they're the main one who really got me to appreciate fell papyrus <3

ao3 link: here!

fic text under cut!

Your whole face feels sore, sinuses swollen and eyes stinging from the hours of sobbing you’d been doing. You look the mess too, lips dry and cracked, face stained with old, runny mascara and tears. The knotted mess your hair is in isn’t much better.

The sound of metal scraping against marble brings your eyes from the mirror to the old pair scissors being pressed hard between your hand and the kitchen sink. Staring at them makes your mouth twist into a harsh scowl.

Your hair tugs slight where he pulls it, and you glance over at him with a questioning hum.

He grins at you, eyes full of loving mirth. “You’re growing your hair out, it looks good.”

Heartbroken rage swells in your gut at the memory, and you take the scissors and a hank of your hair and shear it off with uneven chops. You watch as the strands drop to the sink in the moor, angry tears starting anew. Taking in the uneven hack-job, you snarl and repeat the process on the other side.

Fuck him. You hope he chokes on his regret.

When your hair is as short as you’re willing to risk, you drop the scissors into the sink with your hacked off hair and leave the bathroom.

Only to stop in your tracks, surprise making your face go slack. Your cheeks and forehead tingle at the new expression, but you ignore it in favor of staring at Papyrus standing in the middle of your living room with his hands on his hips.

His eye lights sweep over you, sharp teeth pulling his neutral frown into a downright scowl. Insecurity grips at you suddenly, and while usually you’d brush it off you’re too sore from the recent betrayal to do anything but sink into your shoulders.

“You Look Like Shit,” he comments, and the words feel like a shard of glass in your heart. It doesn’t take much to recover (to break even further) so you do the first thing that comes to mind.

You grab the vase sitting on the hallway table (that hasn’t been filled with flowers in a long time— he hasn’t given you flowers in so long you should have seen this coming—) and chuck it in Papyrus’ direction with an enraged cry.

“Shut up!” you shout, indignation and despair swelling when Papyrus just side steps the vase so it shatters on the wall behind him. You reach for something else— this time a picture frame on your wall (one you were going to take down anyway, it has him in it—) and throw it at Papyrus as well.

“You shut the fuck up, you don’t know anything!” you scream, a snarl of frustration forcing its way out of your raw throat when Papyrus side steps that too.

You’re about to pick up something else— a gorgeous, fake fabergé egg that your mother had gifted you years ago— but red-gloved claws are wrapping around your wrist and pulling the decor out of your shaking hand.

Papyrus’ grip is strong but it’s gentle. He’s not handling you like glass, but he’s taking care because you are fragile right now.

So fragile, in fact, that you take one look at his soft, understanding expression and you feel the feeble hold on your heart fumble. And then your heart breaks fully, ruined sobs shattering from you as you collapse into the skeleton. You’d been crying for hours already, so you’re not really sure where you find the energy or tears to sob into Papyrus’ chest but it’s not like you can control yourself.

He holds you through all of it, one arm settled across your shoulders while his other hand rubs gentle circles over your shirt. It’s more comfort than you’ve had since you found out Ron was cheating on you, and it absolutely wrecks you.

By the time you’ve fully worn yourself out, you’re hiccuping into Papyrus’ shirt, fingers aching at the joints with the tight fists you have resting on his chest. You stare numbly at them, breath shuddering for a second when your thoughts wonder to your boyf— your ex.

The silence rings in your ears, and you consider pulling away from Papyrus for only a moment before he’s doing it himself. The devastated whine that pulls from you is humiliating, but you don’t think you could have stopped it if you tried.

“Hush,” Papyrus commands, placing his hand on your cheek so he can guide you to look him in the face, “I’m Going Nowhere. I Came Here To Assist You, And That Is What I am Going To Do.”

You sniffle, but nod your understanding. Papyrus searches your face for a moment before he’s pulling you in for another hug. You wilt a little into it, but you don’t fight it when he finally releases you and steps back.

“Let’s Start With Your Hair, You’ve Done A Number On It,” he says, and you wrinkle your nose.

“He liked it long,” is your only, croaking comment. Papyrus gives you look you can’t really decipher right now, but nods as he gestures you to follow him back to your bathroom. You’re sitting on the toilet before you even really have a chance to process the change of scenery, Papyrus’ careful fingers gripping your chin and angling your face this way and that.

The make up wipe pressing to your cheek suddenly makes you jolt, but Papyrus doesn’t comment on your surprise and continues cleaning your face. You take the moment to watch him, all the little shifts of his teeth while his eye lights are zeroed in on what he’s doing. He huffs, and you feel like if he had a nose, his nostrils would be flaring right now.

“What Happened? Two Days Ago You Were Telling Me About The Vacation You Were Planning With Him, And Then An Hour Ago I Get A Message From Your Mother Asking Me To Reason With You.”

You grimace at that, brows knitting together as your lips tug down into a scowl. Papyrus tsks at you, patting your face until you sigh and let the expression go. He tells you to look up, and you do while he scrubs at the dried mascara under your eyes.

“His side piece walked up to me while I was at the store,” looking for a swim suit for that vacation, “and decided to rub it in my face that I ‘couldn’t hold down such a hot piece of ass’, his words.”

Papyrus pauses, the dirty wipe sticking unpleasantly to your skin where he’s pressed it. You chance a look down to get a read on him. He looks stony, his eye lights barely-there pinpricks and the tops of his sockets angled harshly down in a mockery of what your eyebrows were for you.

You feel like it’s a solid minute before he shakes it off and doctors his expression to be carefully neutral.

“Look Up, What Else?”

He’s back to cleaning your face, you obliging the repeated command with a roll of your eyes.

“I told the guy to fuck off, because I trusted Ron and I wasn’t gonna believe some jealous asshole over him. He—” You stop, throat closing up as the memory plays in your mind. Distant but all too present heartbreak making you want to start crying again.

Papyrus doesn’t say anything, just lets you gather yourself to avoid messing up his efforts to take care of you.

“He had a picture pulled up of him and Ron, at—” you swallow hard, “at that cute coffee shop down on sixth.”

Where you and Ron met, you don’t say, but with the way Papyrus’ hand twitches against your cheek, he picks it up anyway. He sighs, tossing the wipe in the trash by the toilet. You watch as he examines your face, letting him move your head around easily.

“You Need A Proper Shower, But It’ll Do Until I Fix Your Hair,” he says, and your heart clenches a little. You’re not really sure what he’s thinking, and that drives you to stop him before he leaves the bathroom for whatever he needs.

Papyrus stops, looking down at where your hand is clutching his wrist then looks to your face. You’re staring at each other, and then Papyrus is sighing and kneeling in front of you. He’s readjusting your grip so he can hold your hands in his, and you just continue to stare it him, eyes burning with unshed tears.

“I Am Sorry You Were Hurt This Way,” he starts, gently squeezing your hands before his thumb starts stroking at one of your palms, “What Ron Has Done To You Is Unforgivable, And I Will Not Be Brushing It Off When It’s Affected You Like this.”

He pauses, eye-lights dropping to your hands and watching his own thumb tracing the crease lines in your skin.

“You deserve better.”

Papyrus is so much quieter than you’re used to, his voice almost a whisper that sends a shudder down your spine with its novelty.

“I’m Going To Help You, If You Let Me,” he finally finishes, and you nod. There’s a second for him to pause, and then Papyrus is leaving the bathroom, likely grabbing the little hair styling kit you keep stashed for moments like this. When you’re upset and willing to ruin your hair just for some kind of change to take the hurt from your shoulders.

You’re feeling… not better, but definitely calmer by the time Papyrus has you cleaned up. Your hair is shorter than you’ve ever let it be, shaved down at the sides and the top in an un-styled mohawk that makes you giggle whenever you shake your head and it flops everywhere.

Papyrus just smiles at you whenever you start goofing with it, rolling his eyes when you stick your tongue out at him. He’s making you dinner now, having found out you haven’t eaten since the afternoon before.

“You’d Fall Apart Without Me,” he had said, and when you shrugged and agreed his cheekbones had been decorated with a pretty red blush that got you snickering.

Falling apart is easier when you have Papyrus with you, you think. He’s at least willing to help you pick up the pieces. Plus, who else is going to ask how you’d like to metaphorically rip your ex’s balls out?

[aloysiavirgata]

155 words: Orion UST

Slouching around his apartment in hoodies, forced leave. Her rubberband thighs so tense in her leggings. Her hair sloppy and ponytailed and her face like a palmpsest.

***

She runs and runs and runs.

“Scully,” he says, Oxford educated.

“I’m fine,” she said to the pizza.

The lo mein.

The chicken korma.

She screams in the dark, oleander hands at her oleander throat, and he has no idea what to do with the girls who survive.

Who come home.

***

“Kill me,” she begs, hot-throated and raw. “I can’t, I-“

****

He hates himself for the panne-cotta swell of her breasts, for the dip and rise of her papyrus belly. He wants to fuck her and begs the forgiveness of a god in whom he does not believe.

Her body, alone, is the temple at which he will worship.

***

She is a woman and she’s flawless, she is Mulier amicta sole.

***

She is so proud to be alive.

[spotaus]

Hello guys! Today I'm posting a super self-indulgent lil drabble based on @ancientschampionau 's RealAge AU! (This is non-canon!! Just a silly concept!!)

This is 90% just me playing around with the idea of the boys story from the perspective of a random monster who lives in town! Light is a flame elemental who runs a small garden of their own, but mostly works for Grillby in his restaurant. They don't know nearly *half* of the gang's story, but they're fascinated by what they do learn over the course of a few weeks.

Uhhh. No proof-reading or anything here since it's just me being silly- Thank you Ancients for not minding me butting my grubby lil hands in and doin a goofy with it!

...

   The day wasn't too busy. At least, it was never too busy in town, but sometimes it got busy in the little restaurant that they called their home away from home. Grillby's was the go-to spot for everyone in town, and some nights they'd have to bring out extra chairs just to seat everyone. Those nights were always the most charming, hearing all the familiar voices of their neighbors rise and fall like waves as they recounted their weeks.

   Of course, Light liked unbusy nights just like this one too. Nights when they only had a few customers getting a drink or a late-night snack before they went home and hit the hay.

   Right now there were just a few regulars who Light recognized. A bird monster, and a dog specifically were sat not far from them on the otherside of the counter. Light was awful with names, but knew that these two were here every night. ...And they knew the two always had some sort of drama they were eager to share. Grillby was less inclined to let them spread rumors in his earshot, but Light was always curious and willing to humor them.

   "Ladies!" Light greeted the pair as they sidled up to the space before them, only the counter separating them. "How're you two doing tonight?"

   Both monsters looked up at the excitable greeting, and they both seemed to perk up a bit at Light's presence.

   "Oh, we're doing just swell, dear." The dog monster replied eagerly, her smile growing a bit. Light didn't miss how their flames reflected and highlighted the Grey that was growing around her muzzle. "We were worried we'd be stuck with your spoil-sport boss all night!" She teased then.

   Light knew everyone was fond of Grillby. He was just likable like that. So when the bird laughed a bit, Light joined in.

   "Hardly! Couldn't imagine a nice night like this without a good chance to hear the tea." Light assured them, which made them perk up even a bit more, "What do you have for me tonight?"

   The ladies looked between eachother, before the bird monster made a little sing-songy whistle. It drew Light's full attention.

   "We have a few newcomers to town!" She chimed, and the dog monster nodded her head in agreement. "They're staying with Sans at the moment. At least, that's what my son says he overheard!" She added. "That boy overheard a phone-call that nice Papyrus boy took from his brother, and it sounded sudden!" She sounded proud.

   Light had to admit, they were surprised. Normally the ladies would tell them of a new batch of sheep brought in or a baby foal being born. On the more exciting days it'd be a scandal having to do with some young strapping man coming to town, but often that just ended up being the plot of a movie they'd watched that day.

   Hearing names, though? Sans and Papyrus lived a little ways away, but Light knew of them. Hell, everyone in town knew them. The ladies had never tried to make a fake story about them, and Light was interested. New people staying in town with the brothers? Light had moved in from the city a few years back and they remembered being lucky they knew people here. If these newcomers were real, they were lucky to have the brothers to watch out for them.

   "New folks you say? Have they been into town at all?" They asked curiously.

   The two ladies shook their heads a bit, "No. Sounded like they just moved a few days ago." The bird monster answered.

   The dog monster leaned forward, "I heard from the grocery that Sans was definitely buying a few extra things, though. Seems like they'll be staying a while." She deduced.

   Light wasn't quite sure how right the ladies were, and they could tell they were going to try and dive into a guessing game that would most likely end up more insulting than insightful, so Light laughed a bit.

   "Well, we'll just have to do our best to make them feel at home, right ladies?" They insisted a bit pointedly, and recieved nods of agreement that Light hoped were genuine.

 

   They sighed, glancing around, already losing their focus as the women started thinking of exactly how many visitors there were, how they knew Sans, why they'd moved. The whole nine yards. And, admittedly, they too were curious. Light imagined they were probably just old friends stopping by to see the town before they headed on their way again.

   It felt like hardly a minute had passed when they felt a hand pat their shoulder. It jolted them from their thoughts, and they realized that Grillby was back. They didn't need him to say anything to know it was getting close to closing time, and they scurried back towards the kitchen so they could start cleaning up for the night. And among their chores, the thoughts of newcomers in town faded, overlapped by just how many dishes they had piled up.... curse their laziness.

.

.

.

   It'd been a month or two since the ladies in the restaurant had brought up Sans' new house-mates. At first Light had been sure they were temporary, but the assumptions of them staying seemed to be true. Light had heard just about every update on them directly from the ladies, anytime Grillby gave them the chance to ask.

   Apparently it was five new skeleton monsters, all of them staying with Sans. Or, Crop. They were calling him Crop now, something about skeleton naming conventions. Four of them were adult guys, and from what Light had been told, they were a bit imposing. The fifth, though? A babybones. From what they'd heard, it was a little boy that the four adults had showed up with. That kid seemed to be their pride and joy, and maybe even what brought them to stay with Crop.

   Light had seen a few of them out in town a few times, just in passing. The one with the hole in his skull was the first one they'd spotted out in the wild, helping Crop with errands. Then there was the one with the dark magic leaking from his sockets. His soul being on display was a bold choice, but Light hadn't had much time to oogle him, as he'd just been walking out of the market as Light was walking in.

   They heard a rumor about the one that always seemed serious, a red scar under one of his sockets, but Light hadn't had the opportunity to spot him yet, and they'd seen the babybones across the street once, tucked in the arms of the one who always seemed to wear a hood.

   Light really didn't like to pry into people's private lives, but there was just so much talk swirling around that it was hard to not get at least a hint of new news daily. Like, when they were shopping for a new shirt (they ripped their old one trying to climb up a tree and grab a piece of their laundry that had escaped the drying rack) they heard the shop-owner talking about how adorable the new little family in town was to the person in-line before them. When they were hanging out with some pals, their buddy said the hooded one had fixed his janky-ass cash register in just a few minutes. That thing had been broken longer than Light was in-town! And just lately they'd heard that Gerson was giving all of them high-praises.

   Of course, it wasn't all sunshine and rainbows. No one knew where they came from, and they didn't tell either. Some people were weary, monsters with injuries like those? With the tired looks on their faces when they weren't really thinking about it? Monsters like that surely spelled trouble... but Light wasn't there to judge. They felt like an outside observer just piecing things together haphazardly as new information was thrown their way.

   ...and then they broke their lights.

   Okay, in their defense it wasn't actually the lights themselves. Something in the wiring had fucked up while they were at work, and they came back to a pitch-black farmhouse and a shitty housemate who'd scared the hell out of them by jumping out from under the table as they passed by.

  

   N, their awful (or Funny, as she'd put it) housemate had apparently gotten back from her own work and found the house like that, and she'd changed out all the lightbulbs before sunset. But, they didn't keep matches. Or lanterns, really. And she didn't know where to find the flashlight or her phone in the pitch black, so she'd decided waiting in the dark for her walking-torch of a friend to return was the best plan.

   And, apparently, N had somewhere to be in the morning, but she'd already phoned in an electrician to come figure out where things had gone wrong and fix it by the time Light was awake to find the note she'd left about it. Joyous day, Light loved those electricians. Not.

.

   One dreamless sleep and a tired morning. Light was in the kitchen, dressed in their work uniform and tiredly shoving a piece of fresh cantaloupe in their mouth, when their door knocker banged against the wood of the front door.

   Weird, the electricians always dragged their feet. One glance at their phone revealed that this one was only a few minutes behind schedule.

   They wandered to the door, gulping down their hasty breakfast before swinging the door open, and-

   That was not a big city electrician. That was, in fact, the new guy in town with the hood that fixed Gerson's, like, entire house. Wow. Light wasn't expecting him, N could've at least warned them!

   "Oh, good morning!" They unwittingly shifted gears, turning up their energy levels a bit, as to be welcoming. "I'm guessing my friend N called you about our electricity issue?" They questioned, holding the door open.

   It felt like they towered over the skeleton. They couldn't see his eyelights from under his hood, but he seemed tired and slouched. Unenthused to be here at the very least, and at the most he seemed deeply offended by having to stand on Light's rickety old porch. His vibe check was not passing.

   "Mm, yeah. Something about the wiring." He confirmed, seemingly begrudgingly. His voice was a little... quiet? That could've just been Light, though. They were used to the loud hollers of country-folk these days.

   Light sighed in exasperation. "Yep! I'm sure she probably told you all about it, but the entire lighting set-up went dark yesterday while we were both at work." They agreed, stepping to move out of the entrance to their house, "Come on in, I'm sure you'll know better than either of us did."

   The guy slipped in past them with a slight hum of confirmation, and Light noticed the toolbox clutched in one of his hands.

   They trailed him after closing the door, and watched as he honed in on the nearest light-switch. Unsurprisingly he toggled it, clicking the switch on. Off. On. Off again.

   Something felt a bit surreal. Light was convinced this guy and the other folks Crop was hosting were something like a urban legend, or a celebrity. They'd never been so close to them, and maybe it was a bit silly of them that they'd thought the guys were so imposing. I mean, this guy was in their house, and in just a few minutes he reminded Light more of a wet cat than anything the rumors about him or his friends had conjured up.

   He seemed tired, and he did everything with this off-putting systematicness. He'd seemed fine with Light trailing him through the house, pointing out where the wiring went and connected and which switches did what. It'd just given them more of a chance to observe him.

  

   In hindsight that was a little weird, but Light wasn't exactly the most normal monster in the world, so whatever.

   But truly. This guy seemed small, and a bit thin compared to the others they'd seen from afar. He was ultra quiet, probably the quietest person in town, and even though Light never saw his eyelights, it constantly felt like they were the one being scrutinized, and not the other way around.

   And, just like that, the skeleton had hummed and begun unscrewing a lightswitch plate just outside of N's room. Light watched curiously as he peeled the old cover back from the switch, and he poked at something with a nod to himself.

   "The wires here are frayed, messed up the circuit." He voiced, and his words made Light jump a bit. The only sound for at least 15 minutes had been their steps and the crackling of Light's flames.

   "Oh, seriously?" They asked meekly, seeing as he was already pulling some stuff out of his tool kit. Wires, it looked like. Maybe electrical tape too?

   "Yeah. Rat probably chewed through it." Was all he responded with, and Light was once again left in that silent gap as they watched him work. And he was skilled, that was for sure. Light had half expected him to dismiss them so he could fuck around for an hour to waste their time like the city electricians used to, but in about 5 minutes flat he had the wires attached, and in a few more minutes the cover was screwed back in place.

   A simple flick of the switch had the hall lights on in a split second. The shadow that fell on his skull darkened, but Light was too busy being impressed by his handiwork.

   "Holy shit, they don't even flicker anymore!" They said in mild amazement, missing as the skeleton packed his supplies back up and seemed already prepared to go.

   He led the charge back to the door, double-checking each light as they went, but they all worked better than ever now.

  

   "Here, your pay!" Light suddenly broke their silence, digging into their pocket before producing a roll of cash that N had left behind. "Thank you for the help, man." They added, though they swallowed their need to offer him a cup of coffee or a quick snack. It seemed to them he wasn't compelled by the need for a classic southern-farewell.

   He plucked the cash from theur hand, slipping it into a pocket on just jacket with a mumbled 'No problem.' before he was already on his way back out the door.

   Thirty minutes or so, that was really all it had taken. He was like a spectre, in and out in near complete silence. Not abrasive, but not friendly... cautious? Yeah. In hindsight he did seem cautious.

   Light decided in that moment that they'd be asking Grillby to give that man and his friends a discount the next time they stopped in.

.

.

.

   They were really moving into Gerson's old farm. Light hadn't seen that one coming in the slightest, but when Dani had driven past them with a load of lumber in her truck, with another few following her, Light had realized they were heavily out of the loop.

   Luckily for them, their boss knew what was going on already, and he was already telling them before they got two steps in the door with the latest crate of their supplies.

   "A delivery?" Light questioned the fire monster as he heated the crate out of Light's grasp. Light was young and spry, but Grillby was miraculously strong.

   They eyed him curiously, eyes skimming his flames, listening to the crackling pops that danced away from him. Was he really...?

   "Gerson's old place? Those guys really moved in there?" They questioned, though they knew that Grillby wasn't one for gossip. He was dead serious when he said he needed them to run an order out to the place.

   Apparently, Ellie had insisted Grillby contribute to their little gathering, celebrating the new neighbors and helping them settle in for good. Of course, he'd obliged, but he didn't want to leave the restaurant unattended for too long. So, Light would be taking the orders that way instead.

   "Alright, okay!" They laughed a bit as Grillby nudged them using the crate in his arms. All the supplies were stacked out back, and it seemed all the food was ready in the kitchen.

   Light gathered the food carefully, stacking it securely in their passenger's seat as Grillby kept moving in and out of the building, each time with another load of supplies.

   And then they were off. With only a slight detour past their own place, they made it no problem to the place they were meant to be.

   ...Luckily, the crowd wasn't big, and it wasn't hard to find a place to park on the driveway. Light could see a small group gathered in front of the building, and found that a few more were already on their way back to theur trucks. The Sun wasn't quite setting, but Light hoped they hadn't taken too long.

  

   Swinging out of the driver's side, they rounded to the passengers and gathered the food along their arms... having four sure did help them with the load.

   They kicked the door of their truck shut and moved as hurriedly as they could towards a familiar bunny monster. She and her partner were the only reason they were out here.

   "Food delivery, still warm!" Light called out when they got close enough that it felt appropriate. Only once a few faces had turned did they grin and continue, "Fresh from Grillby's, he sends his regards to our new neighbors!"

   One of the few of the group that was gathered was that skeleton with the magic leaking from his eyes. Light had, once, wondered whether they were tears but had since dismissed that idea. He always wore a wicked grin whenever they crossed paths.

   It was that skeleton and Ellie who approached them, breaking off from the little group who'd seemingly been helping out. Though, Light suspected by now that it might've become a social hour as the sun kept dipping lower.

   "Huh, today is just full of pleasant surprises," the skeleton voiced as he got within rang to stop and stand before Light, "And to think this is just in time for dinner. Now Horror won't have to cook!" He... seemed to be thinking aloud.

   Ellie came up beside him, smiling at Light, "Oh I was worried that stubborn monster wouldn't send anything at all!" She voiced, "Thank you, Light, for bringing all this up here." She was already moving forward, and Light let her scoop one of the covered plates off their arm.

   "It's no trouble at all. Least I can do to return the help is ferry some food to you hard-workers." They replied easily, though they didn't miss how the skeleton was looking at them now.

   I mean, he'd been looking before, but now Light felt that same weird feeling of being watched as they had at their house. A glance revealed that the skeleton had an eyebrow quirked at them.

   "Return the help?" He questioned idly.

   Oh, right, "Yeah! Your hooded friend was a big help to me a few weeks back. Fixed up my house's entire lighting circuit in a fraction of the time the city folks usually take." They said honestly, "But, based on what I've heard I'm probably not the first one to say that." They laughed a bit.

   The skeleton seemed to relax a little. When had he even tensed? Light hadn't noticed there was any tension in his form until his shoulders slumped a bit.

   "Ohhhh, right. Geez, Dust's met half this town and doesn't tell us anything." He mused. Light just tried to file away that the hooded one was Dust. "Well, speaking of Dust, he's probably already inside with the others." He said then, tilting his head towards Ellie, "You mind fielding the rest of these guys? Meet us back inside for dinner?"

   Ellie assured this guy that she could handle it and passed off the plate she'd taken to him.

   Light wasn't exactly informed on what was happening, but the skeleton just nodded for Light to follow him, and they did.

   They passed the last few folks catching up and cleaning in the lawn before climbing some steps onto a porch. Then the skeleton swung the door open, and Light slipped in behind him easily. It felt like any other delivery to any other residents of the town. Familiar and practiced, even though they'd never even gone past the drive on this old property.

   Inside the house was a bit barren, and pretty quiet, but that serenity only lasted for a few seconds before there was a call from the skeleton who led them inside.

   "Guess who brought back the grub?" He called, recieving various voices hissing the name 'Killer' in various levels of frustration to his calling.

   Light traveled into a separate area, a kitchen/dining room it seemed, following Killer with the meal, and they suddenly understood why they had so much.

   Sat and stood in the space were the other three skeletons who'd moved in, along with Crop, Straw, and Dani. It felt like a family-reunion of sorts. The skeletons all seemed to be leveling Killer with frustrated and exasperated looks as he sauntered inside and set his one plate on the table before him.

   "Killer, you gotta be more careful, Night was trying to get in a nap." Scolded one of them quietly, the one with the red scar under his eye.

   And stood in the doorway, Light spotted exactly what he was talking about. Killer moved quick to approach the hooded skeleton, Dust, and Light initially missed what was curled up in Dust's lap. No, not what. Who.

   There, tiredly blinking up towards the approaching Killer, was the babybones. He looked so comfy tucked in Dust's arms, and Light didn't envy him when Killer leaned and gently poked at one of his cheeks. "Sorry tiny boss, but we've got dinner to eat." He seemed to quietly amend as the little guy seemed unphased by the prodding.

   Light had been a bit shell-shocked. Maybe it was the kid being so cute? Maybe it was exhaustion from a long day? Most likely it was just that they felt like a bit of an intruder on a nice family meal. Like there was an invisible wall separating them from the fondness permeating in the room.

   Of course, that wasn't the case, and their arms were still keeping a few plates Wirth of food warm as they stood idly by. Watching as the room seemed to grow warmer at the presence of the babybones reawakening.

   "Oh, Light! Should've known Grillby wouldn't come himself." They were jolted out of their thoughts by Crop. He acknowledged them, which brought a lot of eyes directly onto them. They hoped their flames didn't burn brighter in embarrassment.

   They took a few steps inside, which brought them to just before an open seat at the table. "Great to see you again, Crop! You know how he is anymore about leaving the place un-manned." They voiced, trying to shake the gazes they could feel digging into them as they expertly laid the plates across the dinner table, sliding a few down the way with a practiced arm. "Besides, I would've been bummed if I hadn't gotten to greet the newly-moved in folks properly!"

   They stepped back once the food was all arranged, but finally took a moment to meet the stares watching them. Killer seemed unbothered, already moving to sit. Dust would've likely been uninterested, but Light could see how the little one was staring at them. And the other two? The big one was alright. He didn't seem to mind once Crop had greeted them, but the one with the scar still seemed weary.

   "Of course, I'll get out of your guys' hair so you can eat, but I heard people were bringing gifts, and my farm's not in season right now, so I had to improvise a bit." They said with a nervous grin as they popped open their inventory. A moment later, a simple black vase settled in their hands, and the room was lit up just a bit more.

   They hadn't expected the surprised hum of surprise from one of the skeletons.

   "Are those flowers, but on fire?" He asked, and Light caught that it was the one with the scar. They hoped that meant they could woo him a bit and make things less awkward.

   "Basically!" The agreed. "Flame flowers, they're my speciality item I grow in my garden. They'll keep burning as long as you leave them in the sun and don't water them." They explained, before holding the little bundle of them out above the table. "They're non-flammable and the flames don't get hotter than an average spring day. The vase is stone too, better for them to last longer." They almost got lost in a rant about how exactly the plant worked, but reigned it in as they realized just how long they'd been talking.

   "Mm, they seem pretty neat. Thank you." Came the voice of the one with the hole in his skull. "Would ya mind setting them on the counter there?" He gestured towards the counter behind them, and as they turned to place them, they realized Dani had begun talking about something. Maybe them, even? But they'd overstayed their welcome.

   Dani or Ellie would get the plants back to them to get back to Grillby's, they knew that much.

   They passed Ellie on their way out, only exchanging quick pleasantries before they split ways. The lawn was dark now, vacant besides Light's glow against the grass abd trees, abd their truck was the last one, parked a few paces from Crop and Dani's trucks.

   They stopped by the restaurant to check in on Grillby, but he dismissed them for the night, so they simply went home. But, those guys... something about them was oddly familiar. Or, oddly unfamiliar? They couldn't place it, not with words, but all that really mattered was that they seemed to really have found a home here, just like Light had.

   The town, with its many faults and troubles, seemed to attract the strangest people to call it home. That's what it was meant for though, right? This town looked out for its own. Maybe that was why it felt so right to have those five skeletons now living up on that previously vacant plot after so long.

[mariacallous]

In our Christmas imagery, ancient symbols such as fir trees, mistletoe, holly and ivy sit alongside the baby Jesus, Virgin Mary, angels and shepherds. This mixture of pagan and Christian traditions reminds us that Christmas was superimposed on to much older midwinter festivities. Yet had it not been for a devastating pandemic that swept through the Roman empire in the third century AD, the birth of Jesus would probably not feature at all in our winter solstice celebrations.

If the New Testament is to be believed, Jesus managed to fit a great deal into his short life. But despite all his wise words, good deeds and miracles – not to mention the promise of everlasting life – Christ was nothing more than the leader of an obscure sect of Judaism when the Romans crucified him in AD33.

The Bible informs us that Jesus had 120 followers on the morning of his ascension to heaven. Peter’s preaching swelled the number to 3,000 by the end of the day – but this exponential growth did not continue.

After the Jews in Palestine failed to convert en masse, Jesus’s followers turned their attention to Gentiles. They made some headway, but the vast majority of people across the empire continued praying to the Roman gods.

There were about 150,000 Christians scattered across the empire in AD200, according to Bart D Ehrman, author of The Triumph of Christianity. This works out to 0.25% of the population – similar to the proportion of Jehovah’s Witnesses in the UK today.

Then, towards the end of the third century, something remarkable happened. The number of Christian burials in Rome’s catacombs increased rapidly. So did the frequency of Christian first names in papyrus documents preserved by arid desert conditions in Egypt. Christianity was becoming a mass phenomenon. By AD300 there were approximately 3 million Christians in the Roman empire.

In 312, Emperor Constantine converted to Christianity. Sunday became the day of rest. Public money was used to build churches, including the Church of the Resurrection in Jerusalem and the Old St Peter’s Basilica in Rome. Then, in 380, Christianity became the empire’s official faith.

At the same time, paganism suffered what Edward Gibbon called a “total extirpation”. It was as if the old gods, who had dominated Greco-Roman religious life since at least the time of Homer, simply packed up and left.

If the Romans had not embraced Jesus so enthusiastically in the third and fourth centuries, it is hard to envisage an alternative route by which Christianity would have metamorphosed into a world religion. To understand what caused this momentous change, we must consider why Roman society was so receptive to casting off its old belief system and adopting a new religion at that time.

At its peak, the Roman empire reached from Hadrian’s Wall to the Red Sea, and the Atlantic Ocean to the Black Sea. The imperial capital had about 1 million inhabitants. Alexandria’s population was around half that, and Antioch and Carthage’s were just over 100,000.

Goods and people moved back and forth across the Mediterranean, although merchants ventured much farther afield. Size, connectedness and urbanisation made the Roman world remarkable; but it also created the perfect conditions for devastating pandemics to spread.

The Plague of Cyprian was first reported in Egypt in 249. The pandemic hit Rome in 251 and lasted for at least the next two decades. Some historians argue that it caused the period of political instability and economic disruption known as the Crisis of the Third Century, which nearly caused the empire to collapse. For other historians, the Cyprian plague was just one aspect of this ancient polycrisis.

We cannot be sure about the pathogen’s identity. Bishop Cyprian of Carthage, who gave his name to the pandemic, described symptoms including high fever, vomiting, diarrhoea and bleeding from the ears, eyes, nose and mouth. Based on this account, a viral haemorrhagic fever similar to Ebola is the most likely candidate. According to one chronicle, at its height the pandemic killed 5,000 people a day in the capital. Alexandria’s population is estimated to have dropped from about 500,000 to 190,000. Even accounting for exaggeration, it was clearly a terrifying pandemic.

When your friends, family and neighbours are dying, and there is a very real prospect that you will die soon too, it is only natural to wonder why this is happening and what awaits you in the next life. The historian Kyle Harper and sociologist Rodney Stark argue that Christianity boomed in popularity during the Plague of Cyprian because it provided a more reassuring guide to life at this unsettling time.

Greco-Roman deities were capricious and indifferent to suffering. When Apollo was angry, he would stride down Mount Olympus firing arrows of plague indiscriminately at the mortals below. Pagans made sacrifices to appease him. Those who could, fled.

Paganism offered little comfort to those struck down by disease. The old gods did not reward good deeds, so many pagans abandoned the sick “half dead into the road”, according to Bishop Dionysius, the Patriarch of Alexandria. Death was an unappealing prospect, as it meant an uncertain existence in the underworld.

In contrast, Jesus’s message offered meaning and hope. Suffering on Earth was a test that helped believers enter heaven after death. Everlasting life in paradise is quite the prize, but Christianity provided another more tangible benefit, too.

Christians were expected to show their love for God through acts of kindness to the sick and needy. Or as Jesus put it: whatever you do for the least of my brothers and sisters, you do for me.

Emboldened by the promise of life after death, Christians stuck around and got stuck in. Dionysius describes how, “heedless of danger, they took charge of the sick, attending to their every need”. Early Christians would have saved many of the sick by giving them water, food and shelter. Even today, hydration and nutrition are important elements of the World Health Organization’s Ebola treatment guidelines.

As Stark and Harper point out, the fact that so many Christians survived, and that Christians managed to save pagans abandoned by their families, provided the best recruitment material any religion could wish for: “miracles”.

Without these miracles, Romans would not have adopted Jesus’s message so enthusiastically, and Christianity would probably have remained an obscure sect. In this alternative reality, it’s likely we would still decorate our homes with evergreen plants to symbolise nature’s resilience and vitality at midwinter. The nativity story, however, would be lost in the dustbin of history.

[itsladykit]

Chapter 43 - Sunshine and Rainbows

CW: Sexual innuendo.

-

Fang let out a soft mrew when Edge picked him up. The one-eyed, ragged-looking cat immediately started purring as he cradled him to his chest.

Everything else he wanted to keep in their safe house was packed away, but he simply wasn’t sure what to do with Fang. On the one hand, if they had to abandon Underfell and take up residence in Underswap permanently, he didn’t want to leave the cat behind. On the other, he couldn’t imagine continuing to live in Underfell without him. More than that, though, bringing him to Underswap would feel too much like giving up on his own ‘verse.

He pressed his mouth to the top of the cat’s head, as he’d done when he was a child. “You’ll stay here with us,” he murmured to the cat, “But make yourself available if we need to evacuate. I don’t want to leave you behind.”

“boss, are ya givin’ instructions ta the fuckin’ cat?”

Flushed, Edge turned his head to glare at Red. “He’s certainly more likely to listen to them than you.” As if on cue, Fang started to squirm, tired of being held, and Edge released him to prowl the house. Red watched him race away.

“so, he’s stayin’ here?”

“He stays with us,” Edge said placidly. “It wouldn’t be right to keep him in an empty apartment, all by himself. And I can’t ask Paps and Blue—”

“yer bonefriends, ya mean.”

“—I cannot ask Paps and Blue to look after him,” he said, talking over Red even as the flush across his cheekbones darkened. “Are you ready, or do you have a stash of mustard to collect from somewhere?”

He patted a nearby box. “nah. got it here. ‘s a good vintage.”

Edge sighed, deliberately withholding a smile. He could not let Red know he found that stupid joke even slightly amusing. “And Slim?”

“last i saw, he was makin’ a backup ‘a his new collection.”

Edge nodded. It had taken weeks—and plenty of help from their softer counterparts—to acquire not only an mp3 player, but the equipment he needed to digitize any physical media he managed to find. Thankfully, the music files themselves were much easier to bargain for in the softer ‘verses, and he’d already managed to amass a respectable number of songs. Nothing like what he’d lost, but it was a start. All of his equipment would be stored in their safe house, but Rus had agreed to house a backup of his collection as well. Just in case. “Let me know when he’s—”

His phone pinged. ready, it said. Slim came down the stairs shortly after, hood pulled up and head down, so they could only catch glimpses of his skull and eyelights. At the foot of the stairs, though, he lifted his head just enough to meet Edge’s gaze and give a little nod.

Edge looked from one brother to the next, hands on his hips. “Let’s get started then.”

The belongings they treasured but didn’t need on a day-to-day basis were few in number, but Red and Slim needed to take several shortcuts to transfer them from the house to the machine. For his part, Edge was kept busy ferrying them from their cave to the Swap brothers’ basement. He managed a few boxes on his own, but when he paused to stretch his arms after a particularly heavy box, Blue came bounding down the stairs with an excited, “You’re early!” and nearly threw himself at Edge.

With a soft oof, Edge caught him up in a hug, then gave him a quick kiss. “I am. Where’s your brother?”

Paps cleared his throat then, making his away down the stairs at a more sedate pace. “here. heya, precious. we weren’t expecting you until noon.” He paused in front of him, arms spread. “do i get a kiss too?”

Blue pulled away, grinning while Edge eyed Paps. “That depends. Are you going to help, or—”

Paps pulled him in, and Edge allowed himself to be kissed. He looked between the two of them, soul warm and eyelights soft. He could hardly believe he’d been so lucky. Still in Paps’ arms, he reached for Blue, running his fingers over his coronal suture. Before any of them could say anything, though, the machine activated behind them, and Red stumbled through, arms full. He sighed loudly, seeing them. “so that’s why the boxes are pilin’ up. cripes, boss, can ya keep it in yer pants fer five minutes?”

Scowling, Edge pulled away from them to bicker with his brother. Between the five of them, though, they made quick work of the boxes, and soon enough, everything had been transferred to their new safe house. It wasn’t much. Just a studio-style apartment in Hotland. The kitchen was barely large enough for a microwave and a hot plate. For now, a mattress and a few scattered pillows were the only pieces of furniture present. It wasn’t a living space, but if everything went as intended, it would never have to serve as one. And, after several weeks of searching and bickering and falsifying paperwork, it was finally, officially theirs.

Paps’ arms folded around his waist, and he rested his chin on his shoulder. “happy, edgelord?” Blue took his hand, his fingers warm.

Edge looked between the two of them. “It’ll do,” he said simply. To Slim and Red, he said, “Can the two of you find something to do for the rest of the day, or do I need to think of something to keep you occupied?”

They exchanged a look. “yer kiddin’, right? after that many shortcuts, i’m due fer a nap. how ‘bout you, bro?”

In response, Slim flopped dramatically onto the mattress, arm folded over his sockets as if he’d fainted. Edge snorted. “Fine. I suppose you’re entitled to some rest. It was a busy morning, and you were both up early. For once.” Pulling free of Blue and Paps, he urged them toward the door, following behind them. “I’ll be back later, then. Keep me updated,” he said over his shoulder.

“on our nap?”

“You know what I mean, runt.”

“uh-huh. an’ where’re you goin’—” He pulled the door shut on his brother’s question, as if he hadn’t heard it.

Blue grinned at him, and Paps tried to silence his laughter. “What?” he asked.

“nothing. nothing at all.”

“Just glad we can finally have you to ourselves,” Blue added, falling into step beside him as they walked away from the safe house.

“yeah. considering we’ve been dating for nearly two months now, we haven’t actually had many dates.”

Edge winced. “Apologies. It’s been…” A nightmare. “…busy. In my ‘verse.” And any spare time he had had been sunk into finding the apartment.

Blue caught his hand and pulled him forward, away from Paps. “But you’ve got time now?”

“I cleared my schedule. Barring an emergency, I’m all yours today.”

Blue’s smile went impossibly wide, and stars danced in his eyelights. “Yeah?”

Paps cleared his throat. “that’s the plural ‘yours’. he’s mine too, bro.”

“Can I have him first?” Edge snorted but couldn’t find it in himself to even feign offense.

“sure. i think i’m due for a nap too, actually. i’ll see you two back at the house?”

“Perfect!” Blue took his hand and started to lead him back toward Snowdin. Paps snickered and offered Edge a teasing wave as he was pulled away.

Noting Blue’s pace, Edge smirked and asked, “Are we going to be late for something?”

“Hmm? No?” Realizing he’d been pulling Edge along at a near-jog, Blue blushed and slowed. “Sorry. I’m just excited, I guess.”

The naked admission—that Blue was excited just to spend time with him—made Edge’s soul warm. “I see.” He edged closer, freeing his hand so he could put it around Blue’s waist instead. “Well, if you have nothing specific in mind, then we’re already on our date, and we can simply…enjoy.”

A soft flush spread across Blue’s cheekbones, and he swallowed. Still, he smiled. “Right,” he said, leaning into Edge’s hold. As they walked—more sedately, now—Blue lifted his head and asked, “Hey, Edge—you’ve never really seen our ‘verse, have you?”

He quirked a brow-bone. “Of course I have. I’ve been all over the place the last couple months, searching for a suitable dwelling.”

“No, I mean…you’ve never just taken a walk through Waterfall and listened to the echo flowers.”

Edge cocked his head at the mention of echo flowers. “Why would you want to listen to the flowers? All they do is—” He stopped, realizing that these flowers probably didn’t mostly scream and beg for mercy. “Never mind. I think…I think I’d like that. Will you show me?”

A broad smile spread across Blue’s face. “Of course!”

Like his Waterfall, this part of the Underground was cool and dark, but there the similarities ended. It smelled of cool water and water lilies and cattails, clean and sweet and earthy by turns. The soft drip of running water echoed through the caverns, and the waterfall itself was a distant roar. Phosphorescent fungi and moss lit the space in shades of blue and green. It lit Blue beautifully, his magic and color scheme perfectly suited to their environs. Edge was tempted to steal a kiss but refrained. Though the space felt dark and private, he couldn’t help but feel there had to be eyes on them.

Blue seemed unconcerned by the possibility. Stars danced in his sockets as he tugged Edge along the path. “This way!” In another time, Edge might have found his openness disquieting, but now he couldn’t help but find it charming.

They stopped at a secluded pool of water, off the beaten path and surrounded by Echo flowers that only murmured back the sound of cave crickets and croaking frogs. Blue kicked off his shoes and sat at the side of the pool, allowing his feet to dangle in the water. Edge eyed the pool skeptically, but Blue just grinned up at him, waiting. With a sigh, he sat beside him and unbuckled his boots, setting them to the side. He rolled up his pant legs, giving Blue a look as he did, and dangled his feet in the water. It was warmer than expected, probably fed by an underwater stream that ran close to the lava pools of Hotland.

Blue leaned against his side, looking up at the ceiling. Edge followed his gaze. “Do you think that’s what the stars look like?” Blue asked.

Edge was quiet for a moment, looking at the phosphorescent fungi high on the ceiling. “…no.”

Blue laughed. “I’ve seen pictures. Papy has an astronomy book. I just…I can’t really imagine it. Looking up and seeing….” He trailed off.

After a moment, Edge said, “I’ve always wondered what it would be like to see the sun rise.”

“Really?”

Edge had been braced for teasing, but Blue’s smile was open and eager. His shoulders lost some of their tension and he nodded. “Yes. I’ve heard it’s…nice.”

Blue’s hand found his, squeezing. “I want to see the sky.” The subtle tremor in his voice caused Edge to move closer and drape an arm over his shoulders. Blue curled into his side. “Do you think…one day…?”

Edge’s sockets shut and he rested his chin on Blue’s skull. “I don’t know,” he said, voice soft. “Perhaps.”

Blue didn’t respond for a moment. “Thank you,” he finally said.

Edge blinked. “For what?”

“Being honest.”

Edge pulled back so he could meet his sockets, wondering how many times someone had offered a comforting lie in response to that question. He ran a thumb over Blue’s cheekbone. “It’s good to have hope,” he said, “but false hope is another matter. I won’t lie to make you feel better.”

“Good.”

They sat in silence for a while, just gazing up at the false stars, their feet dangling in the water. Blue was warm beside him, and Edge was stunned at just how comfortable this felt.

But, being who they were, they could only remain still for so long. “C’mon,” Blue said, standing. “There’s more I want you to see.”

They followed the meandering path, hands brushing with every other step. Soon enough, the cool of Waterfall deepened to a pervasive chill. Edge smirked a little, looking down at Blue. “I believe I’m well enough acquainted with Snowdin.”

Blue just grinned. “Are you?” He pulled away to walk backwards in front of Edge.

Distracted—worried Blue might trip over something—Edge replied dismissively, “Of course. I appreciate the differences every time I come here.”

“But you’ve never taken the time to enjoy them.”

“I don’t even know what that’s supposed to mean.”

“Have you ever built a snowmonster or made snowangels? Gone sledding?”

Edge stared at him. He knew the words—they were common enough references in the human movies and books that made their way underground—but the question still stunned him. “I….” He cleared his throat. “I can’t say that I have, no.”

Blue beamed. “Can I show you?”

After a beat, Edge nodded.

That’s how Edge found himself running through one of Snowdin’s clearings, deep in the pine forest outside the town, dodging snowballs while he scooped up enough snow to make his own. Blue ducked behind a tree to hide from him, but his muffled giggles gave him away. Grinning savagely, Edge added more snow, until it wasn’t so much a snowball but the beginnings of a snowmonster, then crept to the tree. He stood silent, waiting, until—

Blue peered from behind the tree, and Edge dropped the massive ball of snow on his head, earning peels of laughter. “I win!” Edge said, still smiling wickedly.

Blue shook the snow from his sockets. “Not yet, you don’t!” He dodged away when Edge tried to grab him, coming to stop on the other side of the clearing. Edge went to follow but slowed when he saw the blue bone floating inches above Blue’s hand. It spun in lazy circles while Edge’s steps slowed and finally stopped. His bones felt chilled, but Blue’s smile hadn’t changed at all.

“Blue?” he eyed the bone, not understanding.

The twirling bone slowed its spin while Blue regarded him. “Don’t you ever fight for fun?” he asked, head cocked. “It’s not all kill or be killed, is it?”

His knee-jerk reaction was denial, but in fact, he and Undyne regularly wrestled with each other and that wasn’t always for training. Slowly, he nodded. “Sometimes. Never with magic, though.” He eyed the bone.

Blue brightened. “You’ll like it—I promise!” The bone started to spin faster once more. “It’s about showing the other monster what you can do—without hurting them.”

Edge smirked, starting to understand. “So, you want a chance to show off, is that it?”

A faint flush colored Blue’s cheekbones. “I mean—a little.” The blush deepened. “But I want to see what you can do too.”

Warmth flooded Edge’s soul. “Do you, now?” Slowly, Edge eased into a fighting stance and watched Blue track the movement. For the first time, he was aware of the grace in it—the beauty of it, as well as the power. From the way Blue watched him, he seemed well aware of—and appreciative—of both. Edge’s soul swelled, preening at the attention.

Blue’s grin was broad and open. “I’ll go first,” he said.

“First?” Edge cocked his head, confused, until he remembered Paps’ first experience with Fell-verse combat. “Right,” he agreed, “you first.”

The bone twirling above Blue’s hand spun faster now, then—with a little twist of his control hand—it flung forward, whirring toward Edge. It was simple enough to dodge to the side, but the bone didn’t dissipate. Instead, it hovered at a distance behind and above him. He waited for it to complete its arc, but Blue cleared his throat. “It’s your turn.”

“Your attack isn’t finished.”

Blue beamed. “It’s a two-part attack!”

He said it with enough enthusiasm and pride that Edge knew he was meant to be impressed, so he offered an appreciative nod. “And you’ll just…wait to use it until I finish mine?” Blue nodded, and Edge hummed in thought. On the one hand, it was impressive to hold an attack like that. But on the other, it was a very poor strategy for a fight. “Why not just use it now?”

“Because it wouldn’t be fair.”

A fair fight. His soul twisted strangely. “I see.” He didn’t, but he was trying to learn. He raised his control hand, but all of his regular attacks were meant to take an opponent down with brutal efficiency. He had nothing crafted in the spirit of fair play.

So he improvised, pulling his control hand up and into a fist—as if scooping something out of the air—and summoned a line of red bones. They rolled through the snow, rising and falling to give the illusion of wave-like oscillations. Giggling, Blue leapt high; the bones passed under him harmlessly, fading out just a fraction of a second before he hit the ground. Edge had a moment to appreciate the grace of it—how perfectly they’d coordinated their movements—before he heard Blue’s attack cut through the air toward him. Without looking, he summoned a bone club, twisting to strike the attack from the sky in a shower of red and blue sparks.

His soul beat hard, feeling the power of the blow vibrate through his phalanges. Blue pumped the air with his fist. “That was awesome!” The stars in his eyelights spun, and he readied himself for Edge’s attack, bouncing on his toes.

Edge was beginning to understand the appeal of Tale-verse combat.

He drew himself up tall and straight, preening. “You’ll have to do better than that if you want to best me,” he said, flexing his control hand.

Red bones appeared at Blue’s back, ends sharpened to points, spinning lazily. The buzz of his magic was just loud enough to catch Blue’s attention, and just as he turned, Edge crooked his fingers, sending the barrage straight at him.

Red bones buzzed just past his skull as he dodged to the side, missing him by millimeters. Another slid just past his nasal aperture as he bent backward, and a third he caught in one hand, using it to swing himself up and over the remaining projectiles. He caught himself on his hands, using his momentum to spring backwards and land on his feet. He struck a pose, grinning broadly. It was a stunning display, and Edge found himself appreciating the flush of magic splashed across Blue’s cheekbones. But he only had a moment, before Blue returned the volley of bones, and it was his turn to dip, dodge, and deflect. As he readied his next attack, he took a moment to appreciate the way Blue’s eyelights traced over his body, lascivious and admiring.

It felt good. To use his magic—his combat magic, no less—cooperatively. It seemed more like a dance than a fight, each of them leading and being led by turns. Both of them crafting their attacks to showcase their strengths and to give their partner the opportunity to do the same. It was heady, and Blue clearly felt it too. Their “fight” brought them closer and closer each turn, until Edge found himself close enough to catch Blue by the waist and pull him close.

Blue grinned up at him, hands pressed to Edge’s chest. Stars danced in his eyelights, and his mouth was flooded with mana, the node at the hinge of his jaw glowing brightly. Edge cupped his face in one hand, smoothing his thumb over Blue’s mandible. He bent down and kissed him, mana lines prickling.

He broke away, murmuring, “Thank you.”

“For what? The kiss?”

“No.” He gestured to the clearing, to the mounds of disturbed snow, the glimmer of spent magic still in the air, sparkling. Everything clean and clear and dust-less. “For this.” If he’d ever taken joy in his magic, it had long since been overshadowed by horror. Blue had done something he’d never even considered possible and returned some of that joy to him.

Blue’s smile widened and his hand found Edge’s. He laced their fingers together as they started the walk back to Snowdin. “So it was a good date?” he asked.

“It was a very good date.” Though he didn’t have much experience with dating, he couldn’t imagine a better one.

As they walked, though, and as they drew closer to Snowdin, Edge started to feel a touch of unease. Blue was obviously strong and skilled. He’d known that before, but now he was sure of it—the kind of cooperative combat they’d engaged in required more skill, not less, than the brutal matches he was more familiar with. So, again, he wondered why this ‘verse’s Alphys wouldn’t allow Blue to join the guard. What, exactly, did Alphys believe she was protecting him from?

"Blue.” He stopped abruptly, and Blue slowed to look at him.

“Edge?”

He shut his sockets, taking a deep breath. And cursing himself for this. “Will you promise me something?”

Blue’s brow-bones lifted. “Um. Okay?”

“If anyone ever tries to hurt you, don’t fight fair. Fight to win.”

“…Edge…”

“It’s only a fair fight if both parties are playing by the same rules,” he said. Blue just looked up at him, unconvinced. “Please,” he added after a moment. “Indulge me.”

Blue sighed. “This isn’t necessary, but—if it will make you feel better—then, okay. I promise.”

Some of the pressure on his soul eased. “Thank you,” he said, and they resumed their walk.

Blue’s hand caught his, and Edge squeezed it, affirming the hold. “You know,” Blue said, smiling sweetly, “I think I like it when you ask me for things.” The words were casual, but his tone was teasing. “And you know I’m happy to indulge you.” Blue squeezed his hand, and mana flooded his cheekbones. Memories rose up—of that night in Rus’ kitchen, of Blue’s hands on him while he tended his wounds. Feeling warm and languid and—well. Indulged.

 He cleared his throat but didn’t let go of Blue’s hand. “I will. Keep that in mind.”

Giggling, Blue simply said, “Good,” as they stepped into Snowdin proper. It was snowing lightly, and Edge held out his free hand, admiring the purity of it as flakes collected in his palm. Not a spec of ash or dust to be found.

A moment later, Paps appeared at his side, hands stuffed into his pockets. Blue leaned around Edge to get a better look at his brother. “Papy, you’re here!”

“am i too early?”

“Actually, your timing’s perfect! I need to go to Alphys’ for training.”

Edge glanced at him, suspicious. “You didn’t mention that earlier.”

Blue just looked up at him and shrugged. “I forgot,” he said, which was definitely a lie. "Anyway, she said she found a new anime series she wants to show me and I told her I’d show her how to make cinnamon rolls, so I probably won’t be back until late.”

Edge made a soft sound at the back of his throat. “How…convenient,” he said, crossing his arms. Blue just grinned, again walking backward so he could face the taller skeletons.

“you gonna have dinner with her, then?” Blue nodded. “okay, we won’t wait up for you. have fun!”

“You too!”

Edge snorted as Blue started jogging toward Alphys’ house. Paps glanced at him. “what?”

“Nothing. He’s just very…considerate.”

Paps stiffened a little, but then his shoulders eased and he snickered. “he is being a little obvious, isn’t he?”

“There isn’t a trail of rose petals leading to your bedroom, is there?”

Paps laughed. “no. that sounds like….” He paused. “wait. would you like that?”

“No,” he said, voice choked by laughter. “I don’t want—of course not!” They walked together for a few steps, chuckling with shared amusement. Then Edge said, “Though I do hope you put fresh sheets on the bed,” and Paps stumbled.

“i. uh. yeah. i did. not that i was expecting—i mean, we don’t have to use them or—”

Edge chuckled again and slipped his arm around Paps’ waist. “And was that the only preparation you made for our date?”

“no. i, uh…i showered.” He rubbed the back of his neck, looking at Edge.

Edge nodded. “I can work with that,” he said loftily. “Since you made no other preparations, I propose—”

“little early for that, don’t you think?” Paps grinned.

Ignoring him, Edge said, more firmly, “I propose we do something simple. Dinner and a movie. Does that suit you?”

“yeah, that ‘suits’ just fine,” he said, echoing his words as he relaxed into his side. “you got a place in mind?”

Movement caught his eyelight, and he looked up, to see Muffet staring at them from a few houses down. Paps followed his gaze and went still and stiff beside him. He swore softly as she started purposefully walking their way. Edge turned toward him. “Are you alright?”

“yeah. i just. i haven’t seen her since….” Underfell. Of course.

“Do you want to go?” he asked. It wasn’t fair, of course—this Muffet had done nothing wrong, Paps had no reason to be afraid of her—but Edge had more concern for the comfort of one his partners than for a stranger’s feelings.

“no,” he said, voice small, “she’s a friend. i….” Edge just tightened his grip around Paps’ waist. Part of him would prefer to keep his hands free, but this confrontation called for him to provide comfort rather than protection.

They quieted as she drew closer, and Edge searched her features, trying to prepare himself. But her expression was difficult to read. She stopped a few paces away, looking between the two of them, noting the way Edge kept his arm firmly around Paps’ waist. Then her gaze settled on Paps, and she raised her hands to sign, “Is this why you’ve been avoiding me?” One of her hands not occupied with signing gestured to Edge. “Did you think I’d be jealous? Or hurt?”

“i.” Paps swallowed. “hi, muff. this is….” His voice faltered.

“Edge,” he said, holding out his free hand. It was the wrong hand for shaking, but he wasn’t going to let go of Paps. Not now.

She eyed his hand, then took it in two of hers. With the other pair, she signed, “It’s good to meet you. I’d have loved to meet you earlier.” Turning back to Paps, she signed, “Papyrus, you didn’t have to hide this from me. I know what we were. I—” Her hands stuttered, then with both pairs—for emphasis, he imagined—she signed, “I’m happy for you. Really. I hope…I hope you don’t feel as if you have to choose between your relationship and our friendship.”

Paps shifted beside him. “i. i’m sorry,” he said, “i know. i knew you wouldn’t be upset. i don’t know why i….” He bit off the words. Edge understood; it was difficult to lie to a friend, even when the truth would be impossible to explain. “i’m sorry. i hope…i hope you can forgive me.”

She sighed, one set of arms crossed over her abdomen. With the other set, she reached out and grasped them both by the shoulder. “You’re a very silly man,” she said to Paps. To Edge, she signed, “I hope you know what you’re getting into.” Her chelicerae softened. “And I hope you appreciate him. We’ll have to get together, you and I; I want to know more about the man that charmed our Papyrus.” She eyed them. “Now, I’ll forgive you—if you come to my café for dinner. Too skinny, both of you.”

“we’re skeletons—”

“And too skinny. I won’t bother you on your date—I have work to do. And no time for silly men.” Her chelicerae were relaxed, and her signs were loose and flowing, softening the insult. “You’ll come?”

Edge looked to Paps, giving a little nod to show that he was willing, if Paps wanted. The tension had leeched from his bones as the conversation continued, and he nodded. “okay. yeah. we’ll come to the café.”

“Good! Bring G. Your tab is suspended until you’re back in my good graces.”

Edge snorted, covering his mouth to muffle a laugh. “aw, c’mon, muff—that’s not fair.”

“You don’t see me for months and have the gall to talk about ‘fair’? Ha! You come to the café, you eat my food, and you pay your bill. What’s unfair?”

Paps looked to Edge for help, but Edge just cocked a brow-bone. “Seems fair to me,” he said.

“you haven’t seen her prices.”

She just shrugged. “I have a family to support. You want me to take food out of their mouths to give to you? No. You pay your bill. Now—” She clapped one set of hands together, as if signaling the end of the argument. “—I have things to do before we reopen for dinner. I hope this little misunderstanding has been cleared up?” She looked to Paps, waiting.

After a moment, he nodded. “yeah. yeah. it’s all cleared up. again, i’m so sorry—”

She waved away the apology. “Our world is too small to hold grudges.” She touched him on the humerus, squeezing. “I’ll see you later, Papyrus. You and your new beau.” With that, she raised her hand and wiggled her fingers in farewell, slipping past them with a bounce in her step.

When she was out of earshot, Edge asked, “Are you okay?”

Paps was still watching Muffet’s retreating figure. He nodded. “yeah. i am. i…it was easier talking to her than i thought it would be.” Then his sockets widened. “what about you? are you—?”

Edge waved away his concern. “I’m fine. Actually, she reminds me of Slim’s Muffet.” Seeing Paps’ expression, he said, “She was…very helpful tracking him down. I couldn’t have done it without her help.”

“how was it?” Paps asked after a moment, “working with her?”

“Tense, at first.” Fell-verse partnerships always were. “But it was obvious she cared for Slim, and that made it easier.”

“and you’re really okay going to the café tonight?”

Edge snorted. “I’d like to stay on her good side, if it’s all the same to you. We’ll need a very good excuse if you don’t want to attend.” He glanced at Paps, brow-bone cocked.

“no excuses. i think…i think i’d like that, actually.” His hand found Edge’s. “but i might need a smoke break or two.”

Edge nodded in understanding as they resumed their walk. “Take as many as you need. And if you need to leave entirely, just say the word.”

“thanks.” He squeezed his hand. “hope you brought plenty of g, though. i wasn’t kidding about her prices.”

Edge snorted.

  -

  Hours after the artificial lights had started to dim and the streetlights had come on, Red checked his phone. No new messages. He sighed, sharing a look with Slim, who just offered a small smile. Frowning, he texted Edge. status?

He waited. And waited. He drummed his fingers against his thighbone, still waiting. Finally, a message came through. S&R. Red sighed, but before he could reply, another message appeared. I’ll see you in the morning.

Reading over his shoulder, Slim pumped his fist, small smile blooming into a full grin. He held his hand out expectantly. With a huff, Red fished into his pocket, glaring at the phone. “yeah, yeah. here you go,” he muttered, putting 50G into Slim’s waiting palm.

A moment later, another message came through. Tell Slim he owes me half his winnings. And stop betting on my love life.

Red threw the phone across the room, while Slim laughed.

[savi-our]

Falling in Like with you...

Red - (UF Sans)

Red hadn't thought much of you at first, you were just a familiar face in a bar full of people. Just another somebody in a place full of nobodies. He minded his own business, as he often did, downing drinks faster than he could pay for them. You had done much the same, and as time passed it almost became routine. He would find you there, at the bar, a familiar face in the dim light. It was on a rainy night that he finally spoke up, no introduction, no opener, a joke about the weather of all things. He had made you snort and chuckle at the puns that just kept pouring out of his mouth, it was as if the more he drank, the funnier the jokes would get. He had tried to pick you up once or twice, on the days that his nightmares followed him outside the confines of his bed, dirty one liners masking the dark circles under his eyes. And you indulged him, of all things, you had indulged him. You didnt shy away from his advances, rolling your eyes and snorting at his half assed attempts to get you closer, if even for just one night. But that was as far as it ever went, you indulged him and then youd be gone, whisked away by the night. He felt loneliest of all when he watched you slide out of your seat, and as much as he loved to see you go, he hated feeling you leave. He didnt know when he began feeling this way, when your familiar face became his comfort, when the roll of you eyes made his smirk widen, when the prospect of you leaving made his mood sour. It scared him, by the stars it scared him. Both his comfort and his longing were growing by the day, and he was afraid. Afraid of so many things, afraid of the way his soul hurt whenever you were near him, afraid that one day you might stop indulging him, afraid of what would happen if you didn't. But as day turned back into night, and the familiar bar greeted him for the umpteenth time, you were no longer just somebody in a crowd of nobodies. You were his somebody. His comfort and his longing.

Edge - (UF Papyrus)

Edges life has been full of unexpected things lately. He never expected to see the sun and the clouds, he never expected to watch the ocean waves lap across the sandy beach, he never expected a life of calm and peace, but most of all he didn't expect to catch feelings. So when he found you - you who little by little sent his soul fluttering, you who sent his thoughts skittering whenever he heard you laugh - you who listened to him so attentively and paid attention to the little things, it was like a punch to the gut. He had needed weeks to come to terms with the fact that he actually liked you, not to mention the months of denial beforehand, but when one early afternoon you had come to visit the house and ended up jointly cooking up some late pancakes, he thought he would curse the stars for ever thinking he could keep his feelings locked away. You were just cooking, and cooking had soon escalated into talking, and talking escalated to teasing and teasing escalated into yelling. Soon it escalated so far from cooking that both of you were covered head to toe in flour. He sputtered, a deep crimson blush on his sharp cheekbones as he listened to you laugh at his expense. Both of you looked ridiculous, but at that moment he couldn't seem to mind. Your laugh made him want to bend at the knees and swear out the devil for how it made his soul stutter and swell at the sound of your annoying little laugh. He wanted to stomp his feet and tell you to shut the hell up. He wanted to curse you out for ruining his good shirt. But his blush betrayed him, his soul hung on every word you said, on every glance you sent his way. He decided it was okay - perhaps more than okay. Liking you was like getting on the wrong train, a train that made the scenic route worth the trouble. Like taking a wrong turn but arriving 10 minutes earlier. Like getting the wrong dish but liking it more than your original choice. It was both peaceful and unnerving. Liking you was akin to seeing the sun the first time, like dipping his toes in the ocean the first time, like seeing the light at the end of a very dark and empty tunnel for the first time.

[gabriel-xander]

Don't Forget

[Sans x Female!Reader]

29: Is Baby Gronk the New Rizz King, Interlinked?

♪────✿⁠(⁠✧◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕✧⁠)✿⁠────♪

Why are you not surprised that even after that night, you and that bone man aren’t officially together still? This is some bullshit, right? Like, this shit is straight-up rigged against you.

You can’t deny that it doesn’t feel urgent to make it explicit for this past week. Sans has been more affectionate towards you, kinder, more flirtatious, and doesn’t shy away from your teasing comments or anyone else’s.

It FEELS like a relationship, but he hasn’t said anything otherwise.

…Okay, you haven’t either, but it would feel more meaningful if it came from him, okay?!

That’s not to say you’re dissatisfied or unhappy, either. It’s just that ONE thing that SANS needs to do to make YOU feel 10-times more secure about where exactly you two stand in each other’s lives.

…Oh, God. You’re in a situationship with Sans the motherfucking skeleton from the hit indie game, Undertale.

But is it really a situationship?

You’re glaring at him now, sitting right next to him on the couch, having a nice one-on-one time while Papyrus was having his weekly sleepover at Undyne’s. You’re watching some thriller-adventure that looks like it was made in the 80’s. It doesn’t look familiar but it’s definitely from the surface.

Sans is a whole, bone-afide, spooky, scary skeleton. His bone is pure white which is extremely unnatural for real skeletal structures. It helps remind your brain he’s not an actual skeleton outside of a human body. Their usual sharp features have been rounded out, and his permanent smile somehow looked natural despite not having lips.

You’re ashamed to admit how long it actually took to get used to him and Papyrus. They’re less scary and more so just… odd but there. Compared to Sans, his younger brother has a more cartoony vibe to his appearance. Papyrus calls himself handsome most mornings in the mirror if he remembers to, but it does have you thinking a lot about how you view Sans in a purely physical attraction sense.

…You don’t really know. You think you’re too biased towards him to have an honest opinion.

You have preferences obviously for what you like, especially when it comes to fiction. However, you like to think you’re genuinely not the type to care so much about what someone looks like as long as the character and personality are strong and meet your standards in those regards.

For Sans, strictly speaking, you liked him in fiction. You loved his character in the game, and you loved the fanart ironically, but that was that. Fanart.

Seeing him now in person? That “buffer” of liking him from before helps a lot, but those feelings naturally developed outside of that. He was intelligent, funny, observant, laid-back, kind, considerate, and overall a swell guy. You are very attracted to all of those traits in him, it’s no surprise at all that your platonic feelings casually blended into the romantic ones.

But physically. Do you find an attraction to him physically?

…Yeah, you can work with it.

“Hey,” You tap the side of his head, “look at me.”

“heh, i was wonderin’ when you were gonna say somethin’,” Sans turns to you with a cheeky grin, his eye-sockets squinting slightly from his amusement, “you’ve been staring at me for three minutes.”

“Can I kiss you, or is that weird ‘cause you don’t have lips?”

His eyes go wide at the same time his eye-lights dilate big. His red blush forms fast and dark, spreading furiously over his face. His smile, to your surprise, almost completely drops somehow. The corners of his mouth (Mouth? Teeth? Same thing.) have a particular shape that makes them seem fuller and more “closed” compared to an actual skeleton. You didn’t notice that before since he’s always smiling.

Actually, like this, he looks less skeletal and more like the cartoony-type Sans you’re used to seeing in fanart.

“ar-are you serious?”

“Yeah,” You answer honestly with a nod, “Monsters kiss each other, right? Or are you just not interested in that stuff? In that case, it’s completely fine-”

“-no, no i just…” He clears his throat, looking away with a conflicted expression, “i never gave it much thought before. and now with you… i dunno, i just thought you wouldn’t be into that.”

“Why wouldn’t I? Because you’re a bone boy?”

He snorts, “yes. because i’m a bone boy.”

You scoff out a small laugh, “Sans, if I had a problem with what you are, I wouldn’t have told you I liked you. I’d friend-zone the shit out of you. You probably wouldn’t have known I liked you at all.”

He looks at the TV screen with a thoughtful look. You let him think about it, leaning your head on his shoulder to watch the movie.

See, this is the problem.

You’re just casually asking to kiss him and talking about your feelings BUT HE HASN’T ASKED FOR YOUR HAND FOR BOYFRIEND-GIRLFRIEND STATUS!! And you’re not even THAT mad about it because that conversation just now was perfectly fine and it would’ve been the same if you guys WERE exclusive.

You’re momentarily distracted from the movie when the scene shows David Bowie’s crotch again. Wait a damn minute, you recognize this movie, it’s The Labyrinth! Ahh, you haven’t seen this since you were a kid! You can’t believe you didn’t realize it sooner!

“[y/n].”

You smile and look at him, “Yes? Oh!”

You jerk back but hold onto his arm to keep him close still.

Sans…

He looks different now.

“you remember when I told you a long time ago, that i ran solely on magic?”

“Uh… Yeah… Yeah, i do.”

“and you remember when you were telling me about pollux? how he could change his form to whatever he wanted?”

“Yes…?” You give him a side eye, “Are you saying you’re the same way? You–You and Papyrus–can do that, too?”

He nods, furrowing his brows though this time it was more noticeable. “bingo. you’ve seen it before when my bro gets really excited or shy, his eyes get all big and starry.”

You widen your eyes in realization, “Ohhh! Because of magic?! I mean, duh, because of magic! But that’s a conscious effort to do?”

“something like that, yeah.”

Sans gestures to his now much rounder face. This is the Sans you originally expected to see when you first met him.

His eye-sockets are larger and a bit rounder, his nose is a tad smaller and slightly pointed if you look at him from the side. His grin was plastered on the way you see in the game only that you can see at the corners of his mouth that he could open it if he wanted to. You look down at his arm and grab his hand, taking off his glove to take a closer look. His bones were thicker and less angular, and the ends of his fingers were less pointy as well. You’re not going to start feeling up his entire body, but it’s clear there was a whole fucking body change.

“this is… more or less what i… usually look like. should look like.” Sans lets you hold his hand but he’s very pointedly turning away from you. “i won’t get into it, you and i have that habit of getting off track too much. but there was a timeline, a long while ago, i knew i had to–i thought i had to look sharper. had to look scarier. it worked for a while, but…”

He sighs and closes his eyes, “it got to the point of doing it so much after each reset that i just began to reset looking that way. looking like a scary skeleton, and i didn’t care enough to do something about it.”

Sans is talking about Frisk, you know that. Sans had morphed himself to look like a hyper-realistic skeleton because it scared the shit out of Frisk.

The human mind cannot handle that sort of trauma under normal circumstances. There was a similar test done with the trauma that came from seeing a brain outside of a body. To the average person, it was severely traumatizing and haunting. Seeing a real skeleton can leave similar effects.

Frisk being just a child, it’s no wonder Sans sought that method to be the most effective.

Finally, Sans looks at you, a sheepish smile on his face, “you just reminded me you’re not someone i wanna scare away. but uh… if it turns out you’re into freaky skeletons… actually, i dunno what i’d do.”

You raise your free hand to his face, “Can I touch?”

“yeah, of course.”

You go to cup his cheek first, stroking your thumb on the swell of his round cheek. It’s soft, and definitely a lot smoother than before. You also trace under his eyes, noticing a vague darker coloring under them. Something like eye-bags, you think. His nose is in the cute shape of a pointy heart, so you boop it because that’s the law.

Awe, you feel his face heating up underhand from his blush.

You grin, “You’re so squishy.”

“…thanks. i think ‘round’ is more what i-”

Both of your hands are now cupping his blushing face. Ugh, his expressions are actually so much more expressive now. His embarrassment was adorable and you’re feeling the rise of cuteness aggression swelling in your chest.

“Hey, Sans.”

“ye-yeah?”

“I still would’ve wanted to kiss you before. But I like this, too.”

“ughhh…” He ducks his head down, shaking his head while laughing. “this is it. all of my good luck? right here. i really lucked out with you. now it’s bad karma for the rest of my life.”

You deadpan, “Bro, you better stop saying cute shit before I kiss the fuck out of you.”

“you’re actually serious?!”

This fucking dude…!

“Oh, my God! Yes! Can I kiss you, yay or nay?!”

“yay!–i mean, yes!-”

Men are so complicated and emotional.

Tightening your hold on his face, you close your eyes and move forward. You don’t get to see it, but you feel it. You forget sometimes just how malleable Sans’ bones really are, how soft they can be if he wants them to be.

You don’t feel lips per se, too firm to be that and too dry. You think it’s his teeth (Of course it would be, what else?) that he willed to be softer and more malleable to better fit against your lips.

It only lasts a few seconds with Sans being the one to pull away first. He had a stupid little smile on his face and his blush had died down some but was still very prominent. He has that expression that screams “fuck yeah.”

“hey.”

Oh God.

“Yeah?”

“guess who’s definitely a monster-fucker now? you are.”

You pull away from him with a dead look in your eyes, “Okay, we’re done here.”

“ha ha ha! wait, no–come back!”

────────────

A/N: TLDR I drew Sans that way on the cover intentionally cuz otherwise, I would’ve drawn biblically accurate hyper-realistic Sans lmao I’ll include it here again cause I think it’s neat

Taglist:

@lemonboy011

@adriixboo

@fluffyart5000

@fetusbaconegg

[metaphorthejesterdraws]

Oct 31 | Fire

(inktober)

man, if only this prompt had been in the middle!! i probably wouldve made some edgy pyre art. i mean, heck, had i the motivation, i could've made a fire emblem pun out of this one. but the undertale portion of my brain seized this prompt first. so observe....sans and papyrus watchin fireworks!! went the sketchy-artstyle route again - i'm pretty tired art from all the art this month, and i just wanted to draw something simple and fun lol. the foreshortening(?)'s a little clumsy but eh that's what foreshortinin does to ya

and now!!! an art hiatus!! becAUSE I NEED A BREAK. i probably wont be posting too much art for the start of this month - but ive got a Sans and Papyrus comic idea that's been simmering in my mind for the past few weeks, plus some Fire Emblem 3H and Pyre doodles if my human drawing studies go well enough. might do a few trashposts on my main too, got a few ideas there.

until then, have a swell day, folks!

[imtrashraccoon]

Yes, I spell it with a "u"... I just so happen to not be American lol.

@scrambledmeggys

First Day, Previous Day, & Next Day.

Day 8: Armour

You set the book you'd been reading on the coffee table, being especially careful not to wake Frisk, who's head was resting in your lap. Smiling down at them, you gently brushed some of their fluffy hair out of their face.

This was one of your favorite types of moments. A time when it was just you and Frisk with no one else to disrupt the peace. You knew they were happy and content, which made your heart swell with joy just watching them.

Then, the front door was unlocked and you glanced over in surprise. Papyrus wasn't due to be back from work for at least three more hours and Sans almost always teleported into the house rather than use the door. Had something happened?

It turned out to be Papyrus, but it wasn't so much the fact that he was home so early that was concerning. Rather, it was the sizable gash on the lower right side of his chestplate. He was clutching the area with his left hand so you couldn't really see how badly he was injured, but there was some grey dust coating his glove.

"Papyrus, are you alright? What happened...?" you asked, trying to be quiet so Frisk wouldn't wake up.

He huffed and waved you off dismissively. "I Am Fine, Really. You Do Not Need To Worry About Me."

Despite that, you didn't miss how he winced slightly when he turned to close the door behind him. You opened your mouth to say something but he narrowed his eye sockets at you sternly.

"I Mean It, Rihanna. I Will Be Fine," he muttered and started up the stairs towards the bathroom.

After easing a pillow underneath Frisk's head and finagling your way off the couch, you padded quietly up the stairs after him. You paused just outside the bathroom threshold as you didn't want to intrude too much, but you couldn't help being concerned.

"Papyrus..." you murmured softly.

He stopped fiddling with the first aid kit that he'd brought out from underneath the sink and glanced at you. "I Already Told You I Will Be Fine," he answered stiffly. "Besides, I Have Dealt With This Sort Of Injury Plenty Of Times Before."

You eyed his slightly trembling hands and how he'd been struggling to open a tin of healing gel with one hand while holding his wound with the other. He clearly wasn't fine and the fact that he kept insisting he was, bothered you immensely.

"I just need to know you'll actually be okay. Can I at least help you so your injuries can be properly looked after?" you asked.

He looked away, hesitating to actually answer you. His free hand clenched into a fist before he let out a strained breath of air. "Alright, If It Will Stop Your Fussing, But I Assure You That I Am Not In Mortal Danger," he grumbled, still not looking at you.

You made a tisk sound with your tongue but didn't bother scolding him, that could wait until later when he was feeling better. Instead, you unscrewed the lid of the healing gel for him.

Wordlessly, Papyrus removed his scarf, bundling it up and setting it on the counter for now. After removing his gloves as well, he started to undo his chestplate but couldn't quite reach the last strap with one hand. Realizing he needed assistance, you moved closer and fiddled with the troublesome strap until it came loose.

You'd seen men shirtless before but this was quite different. While anatomically he resembled a human skeleton, Papyrus had much wider ribs and a thicker spine compared to what you'd seen in any of your biology textbooks. You figured it served to give the appearance of the mass that came with having a flesh-based body, but his bones were probably also much stronger than your own. It was...fascinating...

It occurred to you that Papyrus was letting you witness him at his most vulnerable. He must really trust you or at the very least, trust you enough to have not shut the door in your face.

Taking a deep breath, you chose to focus on the medical aspect of this moment. You couldn't deny that you kind of liked what you saw but there would be plenty of time to mull over your feelings later.

"What do you need me to do?" you asked.

Papyrus considered your question for a moment before asking one of his own. "How Much Experience Do You Have Treating Injuries?"

You shrugged, "I'd say I know the basics, like how to clean wounds and stop minor bleeding. I've never had to deal with anything too severe though."

He nodded, "Good Enough." Moving to sit down on the edge of the tub, he beckoned you to come a little closer. "This Will Likely Be Different From Anything You Have Seen Before, But Just Do What I Tell You, Alright?"

"Of course."

Whatever had happened to him was enough to fracture two lower ribs by the looks of things. While such an injury was definitely painful, it wasn't life threatening if treated fast enough. The good thing was, because Papyrus was a skeleton, he didn't have any blood or tissue, which made cleaning the wound far easier than it would have been on a human.

While there was no bleeding to stop, his bones were slowly leaking that same grey dust that had been coating his glove earlier. It was gritty and yet nearly impossible to remove unless you actually washed your hands. You didn't really want to ask what the dust was and Papyrus didn't seem too bothered by it, so you figured everything was alright.

After helping him clean the area the best you could, Papyrus had you apply a generous amount of the healing gel before wrapping it securely with gauze. The gel smelled like crushed pine needles and your fingers felt sort of tingly afterwards, which led you to the conclusion that it must be chock full of magic. Hopefully it would work quickly, because you hated the thought of him having to put up with pain for a couple of months while it healed.

As you washed your hands afterwards, you couldn't help the anxiety welling up in your gut, now that you'd calmed down some.

"Are... Are you going to be okay now?" you asked quietly. Hearing Papyrus give a slightly amused chuckle, you glanced over at him sharply, the embarrassment already setting in.

"I Told You Earlier That I Will Be, Precious," he teased. Growing slightly more serious, he stood up and moved next to you by the sink. "I Would Give It A Week At Most Before I Am Back To Normal."

"That's it?!" you asked incredulously.

He chuckled again and pulled you slightly closer into a gentle hug. "Well, It Could Take Longer, But I Doubt It Will," he murmured into your hair.

Besides the shock of how quickly Papyrus claimed he'd be healed, you suddenly found yourself incredibly flustered over something else...