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monodramatic-cannibal · 4 months ago

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Refs done for my UToc :DD He's called Nix-Ceto. His blaster's don't really have names, but oh well lol.

He's open for asks and such, I also don't mind ocs interacting as well. (also I don't mind others ocs being related to his lore either lol)

More info under the cut

Head canon voice: toe - グッドバイ / Goodbye

More info on his design:

His height is 5,9

Late 20s early 30s in terms of age (will edit if I choose an age), a little bit younger than most Sanses.

His clothing is made of somewhat waterproof fabric, so when water is available he may use it to travel as he finds it quicker to move around due to his tail allowing him to swim quicker

Tends to have triangle symbolism on his clothes that he wears, he does this subconsciously.

25% of the time he will have the fish blaster’s out just swimming along the air beside him. For no reason other than he likes watching them move around.

The sword and its case is something he can summon/desummon as well. But tends to have it with him 50% of the time since it does have a shoulder strap to carry it. (I also named his sword after this song)

When his eyes flare with magic it flashes/fades back and forth from yellow to blue.His ecto colour is also blue on the outside and yellow in the middle. (sort of like the fish blasters ecto)

Will randomly lose teeth, but due to having shark teeth/very similar mouth to sharks the tooth will quickly be replaced.

Despite the somewhat formal fashion sense he tends to look a bit scruffy, hates it if anyone tells him to tidy himself up.

The gaster blasters are inspired by how @.tinylittlefox1 (Twitter) draws gaster blasters. What his gaster blaster sounds like (The 'fish' blaster's don't have a noise yet)

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His magic:

Is able to summon multiple gaster blasters like normal Sanses, as well as the bone attacks and blue attacks.

His gaster blasters can go against his orders though, often doing different attacks e.g. instead of shooting a beam at someone they may bite someone instead. They might also not attack if Nix-Ceto doesn’t truly want to fight someone, or if someone had befriended the blasters.

Ceto also has two extra summons, in the ‘fish’ blasters, these can’t shoot beams but can create barriers/shields, can be used for multiple things, such as blocking attacks, trapping people, creating bridges, etc. He has more control over the fish blasters, but tends to let them do their own thing, since they seem to know the best times of when to defend him.

His other summon is his sword. His sword having a water effect whenever he swings it, and seems to create water when swinging it too, the more he swings it/the longer he uses it in a fight the more water it produces. Which Ceto will use to help in fights such as flicking this water in peoples faces to hopefully blind them for a second.

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Nix-Ceto (can have the nickname of Nix or Ceto) is a Sans that came from an au where he didn’t feel like he belonged, having a very hazy memory, and no memories of childhood. It turning out he came from a different au, and basically took the place of the Sans in this new au. He still did care for the friends in this au, and still viewed the Papyrus as his brother. But finding out he didn’t really belong here it inspired him to try to find where he did come from.

After an encounter with Dream, Dream helped him discover the fact he has the ability to open portals to other aus. Which leads him to now take the nickname Nix-Ceto to differentiate himself from the other Sanses. Out of respect for Dream he also goes round dealing with the smaller problems that don’t have the attention of the multiverse guardians/The Star-Sanses. He does this to try to relieve Dream of some stress not having more problems, and also because Nix wants more allies on his side, via helping aus out.

Over time his focus became less on trying to find his og au and more so just making memories and figuring out secrets and mysteries within the multiverse.

Nix-Ceto is described as a quiet cold individual by most people that meet him. But the few that actually take time to get to know him a little bit better discover he is an individual that cares a lot for others, that is willing to fight alongside others to help them achieve their hopes and dreams. Though the ones who get to know him also complain about the fact he never says goodbye when leaving.

Ceto never says goodbye since he thinks goodbyes are sad. What's the point in saying goodbye if they might meet again, and what's the point in saying goodbye if you're not to meet again. Ceto has a realistic view on life, verging into pessimistic way of viewing things. But he still holds onto what he views as good, and cherishes connections that he makes in the multiverse.

He doesn’t mind teaming up with others, and wouldn’t mind if others were to travel with him from time to time. Him often acting as a beacon of hope for others who want to see the multiverse and find their place. Ceto has seen plenty of travel partners come and go, and tends to remember each of them, and will even pass along their stories not letting the memories of their adventures go.

Most aus he goes to tend to be pacifist or neutral. Since there's not much he can do for a genocide au, the only time he may go to a geno au is if it's getting destroyed by an outside source, he will often help move people into the omega timeline. Most aus he tends to try not to get attached too, since he knows he will only be moving onto the next very soon. But other than 'his own', he got a soft spot for the au 'Oceantale', even though everything is underwater in the au he has no problem moving around due to his shark tail. With Oceantale he also gets a feel of familiarity, though he isn't sure why, he assumes it's because maybe he was originally from an au that heavily involves water, but he isn't too sure on that. Just generally any au with some ocean theme, or aus that take place on the surface involving water he tends to like more than other aus.

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Can either go by Nix, or Ceto as nicknames, most people tend to use Nix for him. Is sometimes thrown off by people using his full name if he's used to having that person use a nickname for him.

He often doesn't take many breaks when traveling around the multiverse. Often it's his companions who force him to take a break. He doesn't have too much he likes to do in his free time, but does try to take part in whatever one of his companions are doing in their free time.

He does enjoy music, often listening to quieter songs, most songs either with no vocals or with soft vocals in them. Preferring the music itself rather than a singer.

When it comes to food he's mostly not picky, he can make food himself, but it's normally 'decent', will often let companions he travels with make food instead. Though when feeling home sick he often misses food he'd make with Paps. Making a mental note to go visit his 'au'.

Doesn't tend to carry much, often may carry supplies with him, but tries to pack very lightly. This means he doesn't really like carrying anything around that he deems as unnecessary. Meaning if any aus try to give him gifts for helping he will often refuse, since it's normally gifts that aren't practical for him. Will normally accept food as gifts though, or generally supplies he will actually use.

Dislikes eye contact and physical touch. Very few people can actually hold his eyes, or touch him. If someone he doesn’t know touches him chances are he will flinch away and even say something like ‘ew’ at them. Just doesn’t like being noticed, and dislikes the feeling of being touched. Though for the people who are able to touch him may notice he seems touch starved.

When dealing with threats across the multiverse he often gives threats 2 chances to stop. One before he fights them, then another chance before he kills them. He knows it may make him as bad as these threats, but in his head they can’t hurt anyone else if they’re dead. They can’t cause any more problems if they’re dead. Nix sees what he does as a necessary evil, murder to get rid of the murderers/problems. He tries not to drag anyone else into these fights, since he knows a lot of people are against hurting, let alone killing, another being.

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Relationships/ (Friendships/etc) with other characters/thoughts on other characters: (will only write about my own ocs here, or fandom characters. Won’t write about others ocs due to not wanting to mischaracterize them)

Tanue: One of the companions he travels with frequently is Tanue. Tanue has been a constant thorn in his side since they met. Basically since Tanue realized Nix could travel around aus without help from one of the multiverse guardians/outcodes Tanue has been using Nix like an multiverse taxi. Nix at first was a little annoyed about being used like that, but over time the two got to know each other. And Nix holds a little bit of respect for Tanue, only a little. Nix will be one of the first to admit that Tanue has a good heart, and knows what he wants from life. Nix is a little jealous of Tanue in the regard of knows who he is and what he wants from life. But he doesn't let that effect their friendship. Nix travels around to solve problems, but Tanue often ends up being a problem himself, due to Tanue's love for fighting. But Nix due to so much time with Tanue is able to reel Tanue back in.

Yusuke: Someone who was in one of the first few aus he helped evacuate to the Omega Timeline while it was being deleted. Has known Yusuke for several years, he’s very close to Yusuke, and very protective over him. Sees Yusuke as his best friend, Yusuke being one of the only few people to easily joke around with Nix able to hold Nix’s gaze and touch Nix as well. Yusuke will often jokingly flirt with him, which he also finds amusing too, since it always comes at random times and often are unhinged flirts. Used to travel with Yusuke a lot, but Yusuke wanted to settle down in the Omega Timeline, and had begged him to do the same, which Nix didn’t want too. Which lead the two to not be in contact as often since Nix was always coming and going from the Omega Timeline. But due to a sudden change in Yusuke’s mind, Yusuke has decided to try to pick back up traveling with Nix.

Star Sanses: Mainly has respect for Dream, both for teaching him how to open portals, and Dream also encouraged him to find his original au, which started him out on this journey of his. The other two members of the stars he never met, so can’t say too much about them. Part of him knows Dream wouldn’t be happy with how he handles some problems, but in his eyes ‘they can’t be a problem anymore if they’re dead.’

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(if anyone wants to have any of their utau oc’s lore connected to Nix-Ceto’s story, e.g. as one of the people who traveled with him or is currently traveling with him, go for it lol. I don’t mind peoples ocs interacting with mine.)

(also this info on him might be subject to change, and I may add more to it over time lol)

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magic-hcs · 11 months ago

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*climbs out of a manhole* hello!, a few minutes ago I got hooked on a song called “be around me”, and I think if ut sans, ht sans, uf sans us sans called s/o baby by accident, kinda they still aren't dating...yet ;)

Thank you for the ask! I've listened to the song and I hope this scenario is what you had in mind. its short.

Bear; Horrortale Sans

Red: Underfell Sans

Sky: Underswap Sans

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

✨✨

Sans: You’re very lucky if he didn’t shortcut out of there the second you said “what..?”. You’re also lucky if he did stay and didn’t just deflect and avoid the topic like he avoids picking up his sock.

In a perfect scenario Sans openly will explain why he called you that. But this isn’t a perfect scenario. So your best bet to get any answers as to why Sans called you that is to ask Papyrus. And what you’ll do with the information you’ve acquired is something only you can decide.

✨✨

Bear: Perfect copy of that meme that goes:

“What?

“what?”

He could’ve gotten away with it if his bone cheeks didn’t slightly flush that faded blue and if he didn’t sweat like he always does when he feels like he wants to be everywhere except here. Please help the poor Bear.

✨✨

Red: Man is sweating bullets internally but looking smug on the outside. You see, Red has an advantage, and that advantage is that he always flirts. He’s flirty, even with friends, using nicknames like ‘doll’, ‘darlin’, ‘snack’, etc. He just hadn’t used ‘babe’ before. It just slipped to be honest. So if he just pretends that it's just another nickname he’ll be in the green…As long as you don’t mind the nickname that is.

Stars, Red really wants to shortcut the fuck out of this conversation, but it will be suspicious if he does. So stuck toughing it out it is.

There won’t really be any change to the relationship between you, unless you mention it.

✨✨

Sky: Sky is committed to what he says, he made his bed and he’s going to lie in it. And hope for the best mainly. If you missed it, he’ll just go along with that. But if you did hear it, Sky won’t deny what he said.

He’s the only one you’ll be getting an honest confession from without needing to prod. Sky leaves the ball in your court.

✨✨

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

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what-have-i-unleashed · 1 month ago

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just a quick stop

finally, the full fic of weird fluffy kist that i have been agonizing over...

(cw: violence, minor character death, a bit spicy - lime on the citrus scale)

killer and dust have been trekking through the dark endless space for a while. killer has been chattering nonstop, filling the empty void with his voice, which dust appreciates. were he to be left floundering in the silence, he'd go crazy just like the many unfortunate souls that have stumbled into this non-place.

this "multiverse station" doesn't seem to have an attendant, only an eerie display of monster dust and decayed human bodies scattered sparsely throughout. yet, killer doesn't seem to be deterred a single bit. he's confidently announced that they would get out of here and back on track to their scheduled date in a mobfell universe.

"trust me, honeyboo," killer gestures with his hand waving around like an excited kid. he's leading dust with his other with his other hand nestled in dust's. the handhold is securely warm in contrast to the chilly void. "my intuition is never wrong. we're definitely on the right path."

your boyfriend is a dumbass, brother, papyrus sighs, floating next to dust.

"i know, bro," he murmurs, smirking into his scarf.

killer turns around, as if hearing what he said. "huh? have something to say, dusty?"

"nothing. guide us through this darkness, o wise guy," dust replies.

killer tilts his head, his signature grin widening. "sure thing, lover boy~"

they walk and walk and walk until dust sees something in the far distance - a white light in the black void. killer, still holding his hand, runs towards the light. dust stumbles as he's dragged along. as they get closer to the light, dust can see it is fragments of some sort of dilapidated train station. there sit three wooden benches in various stages of damage. next to one is a sign in an undecipherable language, along with an equally incomprehensible map, probably of the available pathways. a single bright lamp illuminates the area. as killer fawns over the map, dust stands back idly and makes a mistake looking up at the lamp post - he quickly turns away when he realizes there is a white soul trapped inside the lantern, pulsing slowly. fortunately, before dust can think about it, killer whistles at him and beckons him over.

when dust languidly makes over to killer, the hybrid-souled being speaks animatedly, "looks like we're at this stop point," he points to a faded star mark on the map. "if we want to make it to our destination, we can just go straight ahead from here."

killer traces a long-winded path to another symbol on the map. dust doesn't claim to know much about the jumble that is multiverse travel, so he has no choice but to trust his partner.

"but how can we travel to there?" he asks. "your token is out of juice."

killer gives him an impish grin. "we wait."

and so wait they do. the couple rests on the bench nearest to the station sign, with dust sitting in a corner and killer lounging indulgently, wrapping one arm behind dust's shoulders. bored out of his mind, dust pulls out his cigarette pack and puts one in his mouth. he searches for the lighter in his pockets, only to hear a click right next to him. turning to his left, he sees killer holding out the lighter with the flame on, an inviting wink flashing his face. amused, dust leans in to light the end of the cig, keeping his gaze on killer, whose cheshire smile doesn't wane the whole time. dust leans back and lets out a puff of smoke. he can feel killer's gaze on him.

"so, what else can you put in your mouth, bunny?"

dust glances at killer from the corner of his eye socket. the other skeleton is resting his chin on his closed fist, a mischievous grin on his face. dust looks him up and down before replying dryly.

"you're that bored?"

"maybe i am. maybe you should help me entertain myself."

dust scoffs lightly, but still indulges his boyfriend. "you want a fight then?"

"if that fight involves that mouth of yours, then yeah."

without further prompting, killer slides off his seat and crawls into dust's lap, kneeling over his slouching figure. from dust's point of view, the white light from the lamp washes over killer like a soft halo, his face obscured by the darkness, only somewhat lit by that red soul of his. the shape of the soul is wavering somewhere between an upside-down heart and a target, making dust consider killer carefully. extinguishing the cig on the handle of the bench, he slowly reaches his hand to cup killer's cheek.

"this okay?" he asks quietly, to which killer answers, nuzzling into his hand.

"yeah."

dust guides killer down towards him and nips the corner of his mouth, trailing small pecks along the jaw. he feels killer shiver and doubles his efforts, quickly moving his mouth down killer's neck - or at least the parts not covered by killer's turtleneck that is - while helping killer taking his jacket off his body. dust lets his teeth graze near the nape of killer's neck, smirking into the turtleneck when he feels killer grabbing onto his arms and pulling him closer. dust complies, snaking his hand up inside killer's shirt while teasing him with lazy kisses and half-licks around his mandible. killer's bones are scarred under dust's hand, but dust pays them no mind as he lightly caresses his lover's sternum.

impatient, killer grabs dust's skull with both hands and pulls him into a biting kiss, nipping and growling into it, which only stirs dust into doing the same. the wet, breathy sounds of them exploring each other's mouths echo in the empty void. killer lightly grinds on dust's lap, smiling as he feels dust jerk in surprise. the hooded skeleton only tightens his grip on killer's lower ribs, which prompts a quiet moan out of killer.

but there's something else too, a piercing whine coming out of somewhere.

dust is the first to pull back, his face flushing blue and his tone breathless as he whispers, "did you hear that?"

killer smirks at him, not looking as out of breath as his lover is. "might be our ticket out of here."

with that, they hide behind the rubble of the station, both of them eagerly watching whichever unfortunate soul has wandered in here. it's not long before they see a dog monster approach the bright lamp and survey the map, looking as confused as dust was previously. killer and dust look at each other, silently communicating with their eyes, before each of them move in the opposite direction, effectively circling their unknowing victim.

killer is fast, throwing a knife at the dog monster before dust can formulate a plan. the dog monster startles and howls as the knife penetrates into their thigh. they collapse, and dust, not wanting killer to steal his kill, quickly raises a barrage of bones piercing through their head, dusting them right away. it's all over under one minute.

"aw babe, really?" killer whines as dust feels the exp running through his body, making him shiver. "you gotta have to take those measly exp?"

dust shrugs. "payback for last time you stole my kill."

killer sticks out his tongue, unapologetic. "i still have next time. by the way, what's in their inventory?"

dust, as the winner of the short-lived battle, rustles through the dust pile to see some gold coins, a notebook of some kind, and finally a travel token. picking up the token, he checks the thing for any forgery then throws it at killer. killer catches the thing with one hand and inspects it with his softly lit eyelight.

"is it enough?" dust asks, relieved to see killer nod.

"should be enough for our trip. we can always take more from another."

"finally," dust breathes out, and killer chuckles, putting his arm around dust's shoulders.

"don't be so impatient, mon beau," he whispers near dust's skull. "after the dinner, we can continue what we did back there."

dust stares at killer, trying hard to stop the blush forming on his face. he mumbles angrily as both of them swiftly disappears from the station. truly, killer should be glad he's dust's boyfriend, else he would be forced to eat concrete right now.

#cw suggestive #cw violence #i want to squish them so hard #homicidal boyfriends on their multiversal road trip #and they're not horrible to each other???#this must be early christmas because why else would i write happy kist like this smh #i write #dust sans #murder sans #killer sans #kist #love affair #utmv #undertale au #sanscest #sanshipping

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quichein-me-softly · 1 month ago

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reminisce w/ sans and papyrus

(Plot: Each night, Sans tucks Papyrus into bed and tells him a bedtime story. But tonight, Papyrus asks for something different—a story about you, Sans’ late lover and the group’s best friend, who passed away from old age. As Sans recounts heartfelt memories, the brothers reflect on the love and friendship they shared with you, cherishing those moments that still linger. — TW: death from old age)

(author's note: still technically a sans x reader buckle up, it's the bittersweet kind of angst)

Papyrus’ bedroom was as vibrant and full of energy as he was, bright red curtains framing the window and his collection of action figures proudly displayed on shelves. His bedspread, a bold, heroic blue with star patterns, was tucked neatly, and his beloved plushies were arranged at the foot of the bed. Despite the playful atmosphere of the room, tonight felt different—quieter.

Sans stood beside Papyrus’ bed, his hands resting deep in his hoodie pockets, watching as his brother settled in for the night. The routine was familiar: Papyrus would climb under the covers, adjusting his pillow just so, and Sans would sit at the edge of the bed, ready to offer a bedtime story. But tonight, as Papyrus tucked himself in, something lingered in the air between them, a heaviness neither of them could ignore.

Papyrus looked up at Sans, his usually bright eyes a little softer, more contemplative. "SANS..." he began, his voice gentler than usual, a stark contrast to his typical booming enthusiasm. "DO YOU THINK YOU COULD TELL ME A STORY? ABOUT... HER."

Sans froze for a moment, the question hanging in the air. Papyrus reached up, clutching his blanket just a little tighter, as if it could bring comfort. "I MISS MY BEST FRIEND."

The words hit Sans harder than he expected. He glanced down, the edges of his usual grin softening as he exhaled quietly. The small lamp on Papyrus' nightstand cast a warm, dim glow across the room, making it feel almost like a bubble, a space where nothing from the outside world could touch them.

"yeah, bro," Sans said, his voice low but steady, "i miss her too."

Papyrus shifted in the bed, the quiet between them lingering. He always trusted Sans to know what to say, to find the right words even when things felt uncertain. But tonight, it seemed even Sans was grasping for the right way to start. Still, he sat down at the edge of the bed like always.

The springs giving a soft creak under his weight. He leaned back, resting his elbow on his knee, and glanced over at Papyrus. The soft glow of the lamp highlighted the quiet vulnerability in Papyrus' expression. Sans felt a twinge in his chest, but he kept his tone light, like always.

"what kind of story ya want?" he asked, his voice soft, carrying the familiar warmth he used when he was trying to keep things easy, even when they weren't.

Papyrus adjusted his pillow, pulling the blanket up snug around his chest. He stared at the ceiling for a moment, lost in thought, before turning his gaze back to Sans. His voice was quieter than usual, full of that same innocent sincerity he always carried, but tinged with a longing that Sans knew all too well.

"SOMETHING... HAPPY," he said after a moment, his voice carrying a note of hope. "SOMETHING THAT MAKES ME FEEL LIKE SHE’S STILL HERE... EVEN IF JUST FOR A MOMENT."

Sans felt his chest tighten at that, but he didn’t let it show. He was good at that—keeping things locked away. He gave a slow nod, keeping his gaze steady on Papyrus. "yeah... i can do that." His voice was soft, but there was a promise in it. "got plenty of those."

Papyrus smiled, a small but genuine one, as he settled further into the bed. "GOOD. SHE ALWAYS MADE ME LAUGH, SANS. JUST LIKE YOU DO." His eyes closed, his expression peaceful but expectant, waiting for his brother to begin.

Sans looked at him for a long moment, his grin fading slightly as he let the silence linger, gathering his thoughts. He missed you too—more than he let on. But tonight wasn’t about that. Tonight was about remembering you the way you'd want them to: with smiles and laughter.

"alright," he finally said. "i think i got just the one..."

Sans closed his eyes too, letting the memory take shape, the edges of it coming into focus like a picture being pulled from a fog.

“there was this one time,” Sans began, his voice settling into that comfortable rhythm he always used when telling stories, “when she decided she wanted to learn how to bake. she had seen one of those cooking shows—y’know, the ones that make it look way easier than it actually is.”

Papyrus made a quiet sound of recognition, as if he already knew where the story was going. "I REMEMBER THAT!" he murmured softly.

Sans chuckled, a fondness in his tone. “yeah, you were there for part of it, bro. she started out all confident, had a cookbook open and everything. flour everywhere, counters a mess... she insisted it was ‘part of the process,’ even when there were more ingredients on the floor than in the bowl.”

The memory unfolded before him, clear and vivid.

The kitchen had been filled with the smell of butter and sugar. You stood in the middle of the kitchen, the cookbook propped open on the counter, your eyes scanning the recipe like you were deciphering an ancient code. You had this determined look on your face, lips pressed into a firm line as you measured flour and sugar, both already scattered like snow across the counters.

The thought of it made him smile even now.

"this is gonna be amazing," you had declared, giving Sans a quick glance as if you needed to convince yourself as much as him. Sans just leaned against the doorframe, hands in his pockets, watching with that easy smile of his. "sure, looks like you got it all under control." You had nodded, though the kitchen looked like it had been hit by a small hurricane of baking supplies. Measuring cups clattered, and the mixer whirred as you added ingredients with more enthusiasm than precision. There was a streak of flour on your cheek, but you didn’t notice.

“she had flour in places i didn’t even know flour could get,” Sans added, his voice full of amusement.

Papyrus chuckled lightly from under the covers, his eyes still closed. "SHE NEVER WAS VERY GOOD AT COOKING, WAS SHE?"

Sans grinned faintly, shaking his head. "nah, not at all. but she had heart, that’s for sure. kept sayin’ she’d get it right if we gave her some time."

Time. The bitter irony clung to him like a relentless shadow.

“At one point, she handed me this... uh, spoon—i think?" Sans paused, the details blurred as a sense of dread settled deep in his bones. He was forgetting.

He clenched his fists tight, as if somehow that could hold the memories in place, hold you in place. It was all he had left of you—fragile, fleeting, and fading. Still, he continued.

"told me to stir the batter while she cracked the eggs. problem was, she missed the bowl—dropped one right on the counter.”

You handed Sans a wooden spoon and gestured toward the bowl with a flourish. "Okay, stir this while I get the eggs," you said confidently. He took the spoon, giving the batter a half-hearted stir while watching you carefully crack an egg. Well, almost carefully. The egg slipped from your fingers and cracked open on the counter, the yolk oozing across the surface. “you, uh, missed the bowl,” Sans commented with a grin. You had just shrugged, wiping your hands on your already flour-coated apron. "That’s fine. It's part of the process, right?" you said, a smile creeping over your features. Sans didn’t say anything, just watched as you cracked another egg—this time managing to get it in the bowl. You were nothing if not persistent, and he admired that.

“the kitchen was basically a war zone by the time she was done," Sans said, the memory clear in his mind. "but she didn’t care. she just laughed about it."

Papyrus opened his eyes slightly, smiling at the thought. "AND SHE STILL INSISTED THAT IT WOULD TURN OUT GREAT. SHE ALWAYS DID THAT."

The memory played on like a movie in Sans' mind. He could still see you, standing in front of the stove with this fierce determination, your hair slightly messy from concentrating so hard. You looked so beautiful.

Eventually, after much trial and error, the cookies were finally in the oven. You stood in front of the stove, hands on your hips, a look of proud accomplishment on your face, even though the counters were still a disaster and the mixing bowl looked like it had seen better days. "These are going to be amazing," you declared confidently, look like you hadn't a care in the world. Sans had just leaned back, arms crossed, watching her with that same lazy grin. "we’ll see."

“she finally pulled out the tray of cookies, right?” Sans continued, his grin widening a little. “they were... well, let’s just say they weren’t the most edible things in the world. hard as rocks. you probably could’ve used ‘em to build a house.”

Papyrus giggled softly. "I REMEMBER BITING INTO ONE! I THOUGHT I HAD CRACKED A TOOTH!"

When the timer finally dinged, you pulled the tray from the oven with an excited grin. "Behold!" you said, holding it up for Sans and Papyrus to see. Sans had squinted at the cookies. They were not exactly what you’d hoped for. The cookies were solid lumps, misshapen and blackened at the edges, but you still beamed like you’d created a masterpiece. "well," Sans had said, "they sure look... unique." Papyrus, full of his usual optimism, had grabbed one immediately, not one to be deterred by appearances. He took a big bite, his enthusiasm quickly faltering as he chewed—his face scrunching up in a way that even he couldn’t hide.

"SHE NEVER STOPPED SMILING, EVEN AFTER WE TRIED THEM," Papyrus said, giggling softly at the memory.

Sans laughed quietly, the sound more genuine now. “yeah, she just laughed and said they’d make great paperweights.’"

If Sans concentrated, he could hear you—laughing along with the both of them as if the whole thing had been an adventure instead of a culinary disaster. You never let it bother you, the mistakes, the mess. You just rolled with it, making light of everything as you went. That was how you were. Even when things didn’t go the way you planned, you made it fun.

“even though the cookies were rock solid, it didn’t matter,” Sans said softly, his grin softening as the memory settled in. "she had this way of making everythin’ feel easier. like it didn’t matter if you messed up ‘cause it was still fun."

Papyrus shifted under the covers, a quiet smile on his face. "I MISS HER, SANS... SHE REALLY WAS THE BEST."

Sans nodded, his own voice low, filled with warmth and a little sadness. "yeah, bro. she really was."

As Sans sat there, basking in the silence, his mind lingered on more than just the humor of the baking disaster. Beneath the surface of his storytelling, there was a deeper ache he didn’t show. That smile you always wore, the way you found joy in the smallest things—it stuck with him. It haunted him in moments like this, when the night was quiet, and Papyrus was listening intently, hanging on his every word.

Sans had always admired that about you, even though he’d never said it out loud. How you made even the most mundane moments feel meaningful, like the universe wasn’t so heavy after all. It wasn’t just the baking. It was the stargazing, the late-night talks, the way you understood him without asking too many questions. You just got him, in a way most people didn’t. And now, with you gone, he found himself wondering if anyone else would ever understand him like that again.

The memory of your last moments was sharper, harder to shake.

It was a quiet afternoon, the kind where the sun hung low in the sky, casting warm, golden light through the windows of your small home. Sans sat beside your bed, hands stuffed in his hoodie pockets, shoulders hunched a little more than usual. He'd been there for hours, barely moving, just watching you. He didn’t say much. Didn’t need to. The usual banter, the jokes he was known for, all felt… insignificant. They couldn't reach you now, not where you were heading.

You had grown weak—more delicate, but never losing that spark in your eyes. You kept that warmth, that sense of humor that made the world feel okay, right until the end.

But even that couldn’t stop the inevitable. You were human, after all, and humans didn’t live as long as monsters.

Sans knew that.

You were lying beneath the covers, your breaths coming slower than they had just days before. Your body had grown frail over the years, a stark contrast to the vibrant, lively person he’d known for so long. Yet, despite everything, your eyes still had that twinkle—soft but bright, as if you were still in on a joke no one else knew. You smiled at him, even now, with so little strength left in your body. You were always like that. Unshakable. “hey,” Sans muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. He tried to smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. "how ya doin’?"

He could recall the way you’d held his hand, squeezing it weakly as your breath grew shallow, your eyes still filled with that same quiet strength you always had. And Sans just sat there, trying to keep it together, trying to make one last joke to ease the tension.

You gave a quiet chuckle, though it was weaker than the laughs he remembered. “I’ve had better days,” you replied softly, squeezing his hand as best you could. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to keep him anchored in the moment. He chuckled too, though it was more of a breath than anything. “heh… yeah, i bet. guess i’m not exactly helpin’ either. just sittin’ here… not even cracking a good one-liner. shame on me, huh?” You smiled again, that soft, knowing smile that never failed to pull him back from the edge. Even now, when you were slipping away, you were still trying to make him feel better. That’s how you’d always been. Always more worried about others than yourself. “I think… you’ve earned a break from the jokes,” you whispered, your eyes half-lidded but still focused on him. "Besides… I’ve heard all your best ones by now."

But the words stuck in his throat.

Sans gave a small shrug, even as his throat tightened. "yeah, guess that’s fair." He didn’t know what else to say. He’d always been good with words, always knew how to spin a situation into something lighter. But now? Now there was nothing to say. Your breath hitched, and Sans’s grip on your hand tightened instinctively. He didn’t want to admit what was happening, didn’t want to face the reality of the situation. You’d been a part of his life for so long—made it feel less lonely, less pointless. He wasn’t ready to let go, not yet. “you don’t gotta… do this, y’know?” Sans murmured, his voice barely audible. "you could just… hang on a little longer. for me." Your eyes fluttered closed for a moment before slowly reopening, your gaze softening even more. “Sans… it’s okay. I’m tired,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath now. "But I’m glad you’re here." He looked down at his hand gripping yours, feeling the fragility of your bones beneath his fingers. The world around him felt like it was closing in, shrinking until it was just the two of you in that small, sunlit room. You looked beautiful, even then. He could hear the ticking of the clock on the wall, each second reminding him that time was running out. You took a slow, shuddering breath, and for a moment, Sans thought about all the times you’d sat with him in silence, watching the stars, or those late nights when you’d laugh at his stupid puns, or that one time you tried baking with him and Papyrus, filling the kitchen with the smell of burnt cookies. It all came flooding back, memories layered on top of each other, but none of them seemed enough to stop what was happening now.

He felt so helpless, watching you slip away, knowing there was nothing he could do. Nothing but sit by your side, holding on, even when you were gone. When the last breath left your lips, a silence had settled over him like a heavy blanket. He felt hollow, like part of him had vanished with you. For the first time in a long time, he didn’t want to move, didn’t want to keep going.

Your grip on his hand loosened, and he felt the change immediately. “Thank you, Sans,” you whispered, your voice so faint it was almost lost to the air. And just like that, you were gone. He could’ve dusted away right there. The room felt too quiet, too still. The sun still streamed in through the windows, casting that warm light across your face, but you weren’t there to see it. Sans sat there, staring at your hand for what felt like an eternity, his heart pounding in his chest, but his body numb. He wanted to move, to do something—anything—but he couldn’t. All he could do was sit there, trying to process the fact that you were gone. Just like that.

Papyrus had been there, of course. His brother, ever the optimist, had been the one to pull him through, motivating him to smile through the pain. Papyrus was the sole reason Sans was still here, constantly pushing him to become the best version of himself. For you.

Papyrus found him an hour later, still sitting in the same spot, eyes hollow and distant. His brother had gently touched his shoulder, encouraging him to stand, to keep moving, to keep living. But Sans had never really left that room, not fully. A part of him had stayed there with you.

Sans wasn’t the same since. And in the quiet of his own thoughts, he’d made a promise to himself: he wasn’t going to let anyone else in like that again. Not after losing you.

He shook the thought away before it could settle too deep. He couldn’t let it get to him, not now. Papyrus needed him, needed these stories to remember you by, and Sans wouldn’t let his own grief show. That was his thing, wasn’t it?

But inside, he missed you more than he could ever say out loud. More than he let anyone know—not even Papyrus. And that promise? It was still there, buried beneath his grin. He wouldn’t let himself fall in love again. Not after you. You were everything.

"goodnight, paps."

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me-paina · 3 months ago

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AO3 Recommendations Part 2

Previous recommendations - Part 1

Next - Part 3

Hey so, I haven't done this in a long while but I wanna recommend some AO3 fics that I have read and loved these past few years. I'll put a limit because I can go on and on, so 12 fics per fandom. (multifandom person >:))

(Oldest to newest bookmarks of mine)

UNDERTALE -

1. Because I Trust You by WrittenKinzy18 (Complete)

(I love all of their fics! you should read the Winged Multiverse series)

2. Soulless by ItzZaira (Complete)

(ItzZaira fics are always amazing no matter what fandom!)

3. Silent Stars by fifi11 (Hasn't updated - 2022) :((

(This is a sad one guys, so, buckle up.)

4. My Fault by Keelynoelle (Complete)

(I read this a long time ago but I know there was some good brother bonding moments and Grillby being amazing (made me emotional))

5. From Murder to Dust by Clichely (Complete)

(Really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really dark. Good one though)

6. Steel and Stripes by Lady Quo (Hasn't updated - 2021) :(((

(This is just adorable. ¡Tiny sans alert! Older papyrus!)

7. Fatigue by duckydotducky (Hasn't updated - 2021) :(((

(Monsters are really untreated fairly, at least one human is nice. )

8. An Err in Communication by TheVoidIsMyHome (Complete)

(Mute Error. Literally love this concept.)

9. Inquisitive by Another_thing (Hasn't updated - 2020) :((((

(You don't know how much I love FGOD Error, I go crazy for it. Why is Nightmare's gang so wholesome, I swear, I love them so much)

10. ZombieTale by Kamisori (On going)

(I literally can't describe how amazing this fic is. This has helped me get through so much over the years. Thank you for making this amazing fic!)

11. Serif One by samlysam (Complete)

(Sans, and Papyrus, are going through so much There are a lot of fics where Gaster is bad but it still hurts. I'm glad Red, Alphys, Undyne, Edge and Miss Toriel were there for them.)

12. Scenic Our House by grubbin (On going)

(If you don't say Snowy is the best character ever, then I'm not being your friend. I love this rendition of the machine bringing skeletons here.)

ROTTMNT -

(ROTTMNT/12 TMNT)

1. The wrong side of the portal by ItzZaira (On going)

(See I told you they are good at writing. This is just so heartbreaking for Leo (2018) but don't worry I swear it gets better.)

(ROTTMNT/12 TMNT)

2. Stranger Danger by Balkanbitch (On going)

(The Mikey's switched places. I think it's good for Mikey (2012) to have a break and be in the ROTTMNT universe. Not so sure about Mikey (2018) though, I mean he could help the others and make them act to be better family, but on the other hand, the krang is still here, and as we have seen, it can cause a lot of PTSD and other issues.)

(ROTTMNT/12 TMNT)

3. Dagger From the Mirror by TotallyNotASecretAO3Account (Complete)

(Dagger from the Mirror is dark, hahaha, but Stranger in the Mirror the sequel of it (you should read it too) is a lot darker and also gets better (eventually))

(ROTTMNT/12 TMNT)

4. Presumed Dead by Minor_Inconvenience23 (Hasn't updated - 2023) :(

(The 2012 gang is so caring! I love Leo angst if you couldn't tell.)

(ROTTMNT/12 TMNT)

5. Displaced by spiromachia (Hasn't updated - 2023) :(

(PB & J duo is amazing. I love this so much.)

(ROTTMNT)

6. Power Up by pickledcarrotsandradish (On going)

(Leo angst again. This is just sad. new power up and it's to heal or rather take the pain away and give it do himself. :( he is just so sacrificial.)

(ROTTMNT)

7. Fading Memories by HellsTrojanHorse (Complete)

( This reminds me too much of when my grandpa passed. it's been 2 years. This fic made me cry. Their writing style is so beautiful. The way they write, and show their emotions in the words are just perfect. This fan-fic just reminded me that I'm not alone in feeling this grief. )

(ROTTMNT/12TMNT/03TMNT/87TMNT)

8. A Mixed Bag by GreatlyBlessed (Hasn't updated - 2023) :(

(All of the turtle's mixed together to find away out and find each other :3)

(ROTTMNT)

9. This Was(n't) About You by uncouth_peasant (Complete)

(When Leo decided to tell no one of these self-sacrificial ways… Well this is the result.)

(ROTTMNT/12TMNT/03TMNT/87TMNT)

10. B.E.A.S.T by SkylerSkyhigh (Complete)

(The Rise boys aren't violent, they're just traumatic)

(ROTTMNT/12 TMNT)

11. The Purple Conundrum by Donnies_Lady_87 (On going)

(The Purple Turtles swapped, but instead of teenagers, they swapped when they were tots, and now everything is going to be different when they grow up.)

(ROTTMNT/12 TMNT/03 TMNT/87 TMNT/Bay TMNT/IDW TMNT/07 TMNT/Last Ronin/19 TMNT/16 game TMNT/19 Power Rangers TMNT)

12. Multiverse of Michelangelo by Srae13 (Complete)

(Mikey, why are you stealing your counterparts?)

MARVEL -

1. Take These Broken Shards (I’m bleeding out) by DaniWib (Complete)

(This is so scary, heartbreaking and terrifying yet Peter Parker & The Avengers bonding is so adorable at the same time. I am so glad that the Avengers are here to help. That shit-bastard, Skip Westcott can go and dig his own grave.)

2. Reintroducing Hope by Fernandidilly_yo (Complete)

(I am actually so shocked... I can't believe how amazing this Fic is. Peter is so precious, and the adventures are such an amazing family.)

3. Child's Play by theoneandonlyfishboy (Complete)

(Why is Marvel fics so emotional.)

4. Somewhere You Can Be Safe by sarcasmismyweapon (Complete)

(Switched, well transported to another timeline... Wow, and these Avengers are much more Domestic.)

5. The Avengers vs The Peter Factor bymidnightwolf2192

(Hasn't updated - 2023) :(

(The Peter factor is working really well!)

6. You Screamed For So Long We Forgot To Care Anymore by GalaxyThreads (Complete)

(I love Loki so much, and seeing him like this breaks my heart! Poor Loki.)

7. Dysfunctional by InkpotGod97 (Complete)

(This is a dysfunctional family.)

8. Not Everyone Deserves a Second Chance byJustRandomStories

(Complete)

(This is so insane, I love this so much, the new avengers are so amazing, and the rogues are honestly dickheads. I love the red three, they are the best.)

9. from your perspective, the world is flat by blueh (Complete)

(Identity reveal for Peter, and to his Academic Decathlon Team. I mean he took it better than I'd expected. the Avengers are so nice! Read the second part as well peter parker's guide on secret identity fails :D)

10. Formalities by Terranpheum (Complete)

(This is an amazing fanfic, oh my gosh! The way everyone just enters Peter's apartment and hangs out with him is amazing. I love the bond everyone has with Peter, it's precious and it's like everyone just adopted him (I mean that's kinda what happened). Towards the end, it got really sad but I'm glad Peter knows he has support now.)

11. The Other Stark by Angst_gremlin (On going)

(Oh... Holy... I have no words. Honestly, This is one of the most heartbreaking stories I have ever read on Ao3. My heart aches for Peter, the sheer neglect he faces daily from everyone is just making me so angry, like WTF do any of you guys have common sense? Do you know what this can do to someone's mindset, A CHILD no less? He doesn't deserve that treatment, hell no one does.)

12. Neon Liar (Hiding in Plain Sight) by isaDanCurtisproduction (Complete)

(This is one of the Best Field Trips to SI fics. There is so much Fluff and a good amount of Angst. Oh, and you can't forget the embarrassment Peter gets. I love this so much, the way the Avengers interact with Peter. My favourite part is when everyone thought he was skipping school. The text messages were priceless!)

Am I crazy... Yes

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the-great-papyru · 26 days ago

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trick or treat! my prompt is post pacifist flowey and asgore spending quality time together. gardening, perhaps? (it's up to you whether or not asgore knows flowey's identity)

…so I may or may not have written a 2.5k word hurt/comfort fic for this… hopefully you still like it, though!

Living on his own had been a harder task than Flowey’d realized. Star’d thought he was really cool when he declines offers of housing from Frisk and Papyrus. Now look where he was. Lost, alone, generally in a predicament. Emphasis on the first one, he had no clue where star even was. A lot of monsters had settled in the same place, a suburban neighborhood, but he was in the outskirts and all the houses looked the same and star’d tried to find differentiating features but everything was blurring together and star had no idea where to even go.

The sky was starting to bleed with the edges of a sinking sun and Flowey really didn’t feel like being caught outside, surrounded by a bunch of humans, with nowhere to hide when it went down. Where to go, where to GO… There had to be somewhere, right? Someplace safe. Someplace he wasn’t so exposed.

Star gave the street another sweep. There, a garden! Flowey wouldn’t be indoors, but he could stay covered, assimilated into the patch of golden flowers beneath the window. He could hide there until the light faded and it was harder to see. And then star’d spend the night doing… something. He’d figure it out. For now, he needed to get hidden. Anything after that could wait.

Flowey ducked underground. For a moment he contemplated remaining there, but he knew that wasn’t an option. There wasn’t any air under there. He didn’t need air, but the echoes of lungs still burned for want of it when star held his breath. And it was cramped. Flowey had spent stars life underground, like hell he was going back.

Star came up and inhaled. Star’d undershot the distance a bit, unaccustomed to the world up here the way star had been underground, distances and locations memorized to the nearest detail. It was fun until it wasn’t.

Flowey pushed through a couple more feet of of dirt and shook himself off. He always hated the way dirt clung to stars petals, like it was trying to push star back down. He shuddered despite himself.

The flowers grew thick here. Golden flowers always grew thick. Flowey let out a breath. He’d be safe.

A door opened inside the house, and a light flickered on, shining through the window. Flowey pulled the breath back in. A shadow passed by, stopping the flow of light. Flowey closed his eyes tight. What if he was caught, what if he was caught?

The shadow moved on. Flowey exhaled without a noise. Dishes clattered in the room—it must have been a kitchen. Flowey craned his (metaphorical) ears, dreading the return of the figure. Just then, star heard whistling.

Darn it.

The garden should have tipped star off. Of all the houses to find himself…

The light flickered off. The whistling grew fainter and fainter. Flowey exhaled. Well, that was that was that. Star tried to made himself comfortable and wait out the already beginning sunset. Darkness was already crawling forward onto the sky. Flowey buried himself in the mass of golden blossoms and tried not to look up.

And then star heard a door open, and the whistling got louder. Flowey pressed closer to the ground. Maybe star would be passed by. What was the chance that—

Furry hands reached into the flower patch and plucked the flower in front of Flowey. Flowey made a not-very-dignified squeak.

“Hello? Is there someone there?” said a deep, kindly voice.

Flowey held his breath, not daring to make even a single noise.

“Oh dear, I hope rats have not found their way into the plants… I will have to find ways to dispel them. Maybe I should ‘look it up’, as the kids say. Ho ho ho!” the voice chuckled.

Flowey tried very hard not to be offended by this.

Hands parted the flowers again and—just stars luck—rested on Flowey, gently handling star and tugging him out of the ground. They dug him out with careful precision carrying him forward the way they would a young son drifting off to sleep.

Flowey quickly shook the strands of memory from his head and tried to wiggle out of the hands’ grip. They released star and drew back in alarm.

Flowey put up a glare and looked up into the concerned eyes of the ex-king of monsterkind.

The boss monster profusely apologized. “I’m horribly sorry, if I’d known you were sentient…”

Flowey had to fight off the urge to tell him to can it. Now wasn’t the time for that.

The ex-king finally slowed down. “What… were you doing in my garden, however, if I may ask?”

“I was, uh…” Flowey didn’t have a response for this. Why didn’t star have a response for this. He contemplated resetting before realizing not for the first time that he still didn’t have that power. That was… not good. Flowey froze up. How could he respond, how could he possibly respond? There had to be something to say, some line of dialogue that would solve this whole thing right up and make no one mention it again and get him away from here, there had to be something, there was always something!

“It’s alright.” Asgore’s voice sent a ray of heat through the ice freezing Flowey up. Star shivered. “You do not need an answer. I understand. It is getting quite dark out, isn’t it?” Asgore held out his hand. “There are better places to stay than out in this flower patch.” He stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Then again, being among your fellow flowers may bring you comfort. Would you like me to bring in a few with you?”

“That… No!” Flowey shook off the residual icicles and tried to correct his outburst with as much politeness as he could muster. “I mean… that won’t be necessary. At all. I was just…” excuse excuse excuse “looking… around. And wanted to check out your flowers.” That was a horrible excuse. Who could even fall for that?

“I see.” Asgore could, apparently. “So you are not lacking a place to stay?”

“Well, uh…” Flowey cast a worried glance at the sky. He couldn’t hold back a flinch. Pink streaked the sky like blood on fur and he didn’t LIKE looking at it. He hated the way it forced old memories to bubble up to the surface and pop with decades of built-up force. He hated the way it looked, he hated the way it smelled, he hated the way it tasted of gunpower and hatred and kill them all, kill them all before we both die—

“Is everything alright?”

Flowey cussed internally and looked straight down. “On second thought, I’ll take you up on that offer.”

Star couldn’t look at that sky for a second longer. Star couldn’t.

“Oh! Wonderful!” Asgore reached for the flower next to Flowey.

Flowey stopped him. “That part really won’t be necessary.”

“Alrighty then!” Asgore moved his hand forward. Oh. He’d been holding it out this entire time.

Flowey reached out a root and tentatively clambered on. It was more than large enough to hold him. Flowey refused to acknowledge this, nor how comfortable it was. Star suppressed a yawn. Hopefully Asgore hadn’t noticed. Fortunately, it didn’t seem as if he had.

Asgore led him inside the house. It was smaller than one’d expect of a past king, cozy starting to verge on crowded starting to verge on claustrophobia-inducing.

Flowey was placed on the kitchen counter. The kitchen was composed in a similar manner as the rest of the house, with the counter, table, and sink smushed together to the point where if the laws of physics did not forbid it they’d be occupying the same space.

Calling the sink half-empty would be generous, it was more like a quarter that was empty as the rest was filled with dirty dishes—mostly teacups and plates.

The old man had a whole corner of the counter dedicated to a shelf of teas—the golden flower section was empty, Flowey realized. That must’ve been why Asgore came out at all. Just Flowey’s luck.

Asgore placed the flower he’d picked on a drying rack on the ceiling. He had started humming again, that same dumb 8–or was it 7?—note melody Flowey knew all too well.

Asgore turned to star. “Would you like some—” He took in Flowey’s appearance. “Ah. Perhaps not.”

Flowey could have tea! But he didn’t want any right now, so he said nothing.

“Would you like some food, then?”

Flowey hated monster culture just then. Was Asgore, a past KING, just going to invite a stranger into his home? Offer to feed them? Just like that? Why would he do that? Why would anyone? Why was everyone so darn NICE? Back underground, he’d thought the surface would break them. Break everyone. The way it’d broken him. But if Asgore was any indication, it hadn’t. So Flowey—Asriel must’ve just been… fragile. Breakable.

Flowey’s didn’t have an appetite. The echo that passed for his stomach churned. “I’m not hungry,” he barked out.

“Well. That is quite a shame, considering I have all these leftover pastries.”

Flowey looked up. Asgore’s eyes were twinkling. A plate was loaded with a cinnamon bunny and a fork and passed toward star. Like it was going to change anything. Sure, Flowey hadn’t… eaten in a while, and it did look pretty good, but…

Flowey caught a whiff of the sugary scent. Stars mouth watered. Maybe just a bite.

Decisively not looking at Asgore, Flowey used a vine and the fork to lift the pastry to his mouth.

He hadn’t realized how hungry he was until the taste hit him. Despite knowing death like an old friend, he’d never been to any of those so-called “good” human afterlifes. But he was pretty sure this was it. This was the high of culinary achievement.

He stopped when he saw that Asgore’s amused grin had faded into concern. “When was the last time you ate, if I may ask?”

Flowey didn’t know. Star couldn’t remember. Flowers didn’t need to do things like eat, or sleep. Had he ever? Not in this timeline, at least.

That would explain it, star supposed. Just because star didn’t need it didn’t mean some part of him didn’t crave it, same as air.

It still sucked, though. And it was embarrassing. Flowey had turned into a glutton in front of stars—in front of the king. Ex-king.

Asgore just sighed and pulled out another plate, though. “Why don’t I whip us both up a proper meal before bed? No take-out.”

Without another word, he pulled out a pot of old soup from a small fridge and started to reheat it on the stove. Flowey watched in silence.

“I made this a few days ago, but it should still taste good.”

Flowey doubted that, but his stomach was still rumbling. The sweet had opened him up, revealing just how hungry star was, and right now star’d eat anything that could fill him.

The two waited in silence until the soup was heated. Asgore poured Flowey a bowl.

“Be careful, now, it is still a bit—”

Flowey yelped.

“…hot.”

Flowey fixed him with a glare. He could’ve gotten a WARNING!

…Asgore had given star one. He just hadn’t listened.

Darn it.

Flowey’s gaze softened, and he looked down.

“Oh dear…”

Asgore took a step to a drawer and pulled out a large jar of sugar. “I have been reading about these ‘life’s hacks’ on the ‘internet’ and I have heard that sugar can make burns hurt less. And the taste certainly does not hurt either.”

Asgore held out a spoon of the stuff. Flowey doubtfully took it.

It… didn’t hurt more.

“Now, isn’t that better?” Asgore winked. “Perhaps we should wait for the soup to cool down, first. Patience is a virtue, or so I have heard.”

Flowey blew on his soup without lifting his eyes.

The room returned to silence. Flowey didn’t feel like talking. What did Asgore even think of star? As far as he knew, a random flower had shown up in his garden and eaten his food. And he was still being so…

“Why are you doing this?”

“I am sorry, I do not think I understand the question—”

“Why are you being so nice to a STRANGER?” Flowey hissed.

“…why should I not? A king must always care for his people—”

“An ex-king. You’re not a king anymore. You have no ‘royal duty.’ You’re doing this as a stranger, TO a stranger!”

Asgore stood up and spoke regally. “Then, I will ask again. Why should I not? Why should I not show kindness to one who is in need? I may not have a perfect memory, or a knack for a name, but I can tell when someone needs help. And I will always help those in need. King or not.”

Flowey looked up with a glare. “You don’t know me! What—what if I was a killer? A serial murderer? Can you seriously say that you’d—”

“Yes.” Asgore stared down at him. For the first time since Flowey had seen him, he looked like a king. “If you were a killer, you would not be the only one in the room who has killed.” Asgore lowered himself from his royal position and bent down until his eyes were level with Flowey’s. “I have done many things in my life that I deeply regret. Even if the cruelest of killers approached my home, I would welcome them in with open arms and a cup of tea. Or perhaps soup, if tea was not to their taste.”

Flowey let out a chuckle at that, even though nothing was really funny. “Just like that. No questions asked.”

“They have gone through enough, have they not?”

“Huh.”

Something throbbed in the corner of Flowey’s eye. Star ignored it best he could.

“Ah! The soup must be cool, now.”

Flowey took a sip. It was still a bit hot, but he could handle it. It wasn’t horrible. A little light on the chicken and vegetables. But really warm.

“I hope I did not go too heavy on the salt.”

“No, it—” Flowey cleared stars throat. The soup must’ve made it stuffy. “It’s good. Fine. I like it.”

Star cast a glance up. Asgore was smiling proudly. “Why, thank you! I got the recipe from the internet! Now, I know we had something similar underground, but this human version is truly something special! So much information, at your fingertips, without needing even a book! Why, the other day…

Asgore continued to ramble. Flowey listened, half-amused. The surface really had changed things… back underground, Asgore had… had…

Flowey lost his train of thought. His eyelids were starting to grow heavy. Vaguely some part of him understood what this meant, but star didn’t feel like processing that right now. He was tired.

He stifled another yawn. Hopefully Asgore wouldn’t—what was he doing.

Asgore stood up and scooped Flowey up. “…nfortunatly… not much space… can make something… blankets…”

“Huh?” Flowey tried to say. It came out as more of a grunt.

He was placed in a large pile of blankets, star thought. He wasn’t sure. Foggy sleep clouded his brain. He tried to protest, but the blankets were so comfortable… and star really was tired. Maybe just a few minutes…

Asgore sat by his side and started to hum. Flowey slept until morning.

#undertale #ask #inbox trick or treating #flowey #asgore #fanfic #so sorry for the long wait time but in my defense…. 2.5k words

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punsmaster69 · 9 months ago

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20/FEB/20XX

papyrus adjusts the collar of my undershirt, and tugs at the edges of the argyle sweater he's summoned for me from the dark, unorganized depths of my dresser.

"I'M AWARE THAT YOUR STANDARDS REGARDING FORMAL ATTIRE ARE PARTICULARLY LOW..."

he straightens my collar a bit more.

"BUT EVEN AN INDOLENT SKELETON SUCH AS YOURSELF SHOULD TRY TO LOOK AT LEAST SOMEWHAT PRESENTABLE ON YOUR FIRST OFFICIAL DATE WITH YOUR NEW GIRLFRIEND!"

that word, which he hasn't let me correct him on.

that word, which i don't have proof to still deny being right or wrong, just yet.

"valentine's day doesn't count, huh?"

"OF COURSE IT DOESN'T!"

"NOT IF THE OFFICIAL PARTNER TITLE ONLY CAME ABOUT MID-PROCESS OF THAT ONE."

hands on hips, leaned forward; he discerningly stares at my collar for a few more moments. i push his hands away as he reaches for it again.

"it's definitely fine, bro."

replacing his hands to where they were on his hips, he steps back.

"...I'LL HAVE TO IRON THAT SHIRT LATER."

giving my appearance one last inspection -

crouching in front of me to pick a ball of fur from my shoulder.

-papyrus deems my attire now "date" ready.

"YOU STILL SEEM ANXIOUS."

"I CAN LEND YOU MY DATING MANUAL IF YOU'D LIKE!!"

"..i'll be ok. thanks for the offer, bro. and for all this."

i gestured to the outfit.

"SHE'LL CERTAINLY BE IMPRESSED BY YOUR OUTING-RELEVANT LOOK!"

with a proud stance.

"should one usually have a specific outfit for going to a café?"

"WHAT? OF COURSE YOU SHOULD! A PREPARED SKELETON HAS AN OUTFIT FOR EVERY OCCASION!!"

poking his exposed sternum through the slit at the top of his shirt, i looked him straight in the sockets.

"what's the occasion for this one?"

breaking the stare, his gaze fixated itself anywhere else as he repressed a flustered look.

"I-IT'S JUST A REGULAR OUTFIT! FOR DOING REGULAR ANYTHING-THINGS!! EXPLICITLY NON-SPECIFIC."

"did mtt put you up to this?"

"NO!"

at his side this time, i poked the shiny star design across the black fabric of the shirt.

"seems like a very 'mettaton' choice."

"HE DIDN'T PICK THIS OUT FOR ME."

"did you pick it out for 𝘩𝘪𝘮?"

"A-"

entirely freezing.

"N-NO!!"

"METTATON AND I ARE BOTH FASHIONABLE MONSTERS, OUR FASHION STYLES ARE BOUND TO OVERLAP SOMETIMES!!!"

"so where're you two going toda-"

papyrus shoved me to the front door.

"YOU'RE JUST STALLING!! GO, ALREADY!!!!"

"ok, ok. have fun with your crush-"

the front door was slammed behind me. i heard a side window open, followed by the fading sound of a skeleton running off somewhere.

——

i read the page.

i read the page again.

i read the page a third time.

i realize this isn't working.

instead of reading the same page over and over while hoping the words suddenly stick this time, i set aside my book and pull my cup of coffee closer. i pretend like i'm taking a break to watch the town through the window.

when i look up, she's doing the same.

"Not a very busy day, is it?"

"it's hard to say small towns ever are."

"True as that may be, it really is too nice for as few monsters to be about as there are."

"yeah, why isn't everyone outside enjoying the sun? like us?"

"...Our plans were made 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 knowing of the weather's plan to be nice. We do not count."

"our plans to sit quietly and read?"

we both turned our heads to our set aside books.

a smile crept across her face.

"...It seems neither of us were 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥-y for sitting quietly at the moment, were we?"

"don't have the 𝘱𝘢𝘨𝘦-ience for stories right now, unfortunately."

"I must confess - I was reading a while before you arrived."

"late, sorry."

"Fashionably late."

i flicked the collar papyrus was so set on straightening this morning with my thumb.

"paps insisted i be."

"Oh? Has he been attempting to adjust your wardrobe? It would explain the shift in clothing choices lately."

i decide that's why.

"yeah, he says i should try to look 'at least somewhat presentable' on.."

deciding immediately on a word change -

"somewhat presentable with you rather than just having my jacket n' shorts all the time."

"With me?"

"how i'm constantly embarrassing such a pretty lady with my drab attire in public, y'know."

"I would not consider your... 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 dressing style embarrassing. In anything you wear, I find you to be just as charming."

maybe my face got a little warm.

"..Though."

she leaned to the side to see around the table, so her eyes could make their way up the entirety of my outfit. extra effort was made to ignore how long it felt like her gaze lingered.

"I certainly approve of Papyrus' choices today. Cannot complain in that regard."

"..maybe i oughta take some more of his suggestions then."

"It is good, of course..."

she made an obvious once-over at my outfit again. i distracted myself by tapping my coffee cup a few times and taking a long sip.

"..But I wonder if it would look even better on my bedroom floor?"

coffee came out of my nose.

my reaction sent her into a laughing fit.

"Hehe- Sorry, sorry. I had heard that one recently and the chance to use it now was much too tempting."

"speakin' of floors, that..."

hiding my face with my hand was all i could do.

"heh, definitely floored me."

"Apologies again."

"s'alright. it was a good one, i'll give you that."

taking a deep breath and shoving my hands into my pockets.

"inserted with appropriate timing and all."

something in my pocket brushed against my right hand.

"Well.. 'appropriate' is subjective."

peeking at the object, i stopped.

"It wasn't really 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘦 in any manner."

i stared at the text on the object in my right hand.

"COUPLE'S DISCOUNT BRACELET" stared back.

"..Sans?"

my attention was snapped back to toriel.

"sorry. what's up?"

"Have I made you uncomfortable? I'm very s-"

"no, it's..."

opening my hand on the table to drop the rubbery bracelet between us.

toriel's eyes widened before she sheepishly pulled her matching one from her pocket.

for a guy without a stomach, it sure did feel like butterflies.

the question i've been too cowardly to ask outright gnawed at me.

i stuttered... 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 out.

"......a-are we..?"

tori undid the rubber latch on one of the bracelets and connected it with the other. keeping eye contact with me, she tugged on the interlocked bracelets and cocked her head slightly.

i nodded.

turning the bands over in her hands, toriel contemplated something.

"...I would like for you to be able to ask."

"if we're-"

"To be partners."

everything in me felt like it had been paused.

i couldn't get any words to come out.

all i could hear was my soul racing.

i clenched my fists, and...

"......"

couldn't look her in the eyes any longer.

she put her hands over my own.

"Then I will wait for you."

#undertale #journal #sans #papyrus #sans and papyrus #skelebros #papyrus and sans #papyton #toriel #soriel #sans x toriel #toriel x sans #got distracted for like an hour galfway through writing this making papyrus ascii art #anyway sorry i'll post the other chapter sometime later

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zuzuelectricbugaloo · 2 months ago

Text

Crepic: Letters

Chapter 3: White Noise

Rating: Teen

Pairing: Cross/Epic

Cw: In the beginning, Epic has panic attack, Cross is wounded and implied to be killed and brought back to life. In the middle Epic has a brief mental breakdown, and at the end, child endangerment and abuse with Epictale Papyrus

Word Count: 4, 380

Sans knows he has to respond to the letter, but the sudden panic at the thought of Gaster’s interference, albeit an alternate version of him, was enough to trigger his recently acquired LV. It’s like he’s been dunked in ice, his mana burning from the sheer, freezing intensity of the Eye’s power surging and overloading his innate mainframe of magic.

Everything is too fast and too slow at once. His Soul pounding and ramming against his ribs hard enough to bruise. And his breathing is far too fast and ragged while he frantically tries to still his hysterical Soul.

If he thought the Eye replacing his eyelight had hurt, then this was sheer unadulterated agony. The air he breathed as he desperately panted and gasped for air, the tightening in his chest, the feeling spreading through his body, magic going haywire to protect him from the unknown threat, everything was so much TOO MUCH he was freezing someone please help him—!

Pain exploded from the right side of his skull and half of his body as stars swam in his blackened vision. The Eye was so cold it burned and his hands scrabbled to his socket and skull in hopeless attempts to rip the damned thing out of him.

Grey, rough tiles of polyester reflected his glowing form back at him, Oh, he was on the floor. That explained his body aching. But then why was everything spinning? An indecipherable vortex of colors bursting and sparking like tiny little fireworks whose minuscule explosions blasted in his mind.

His mind ringing and drowning out his anguished screams and broken, wet sobs as his terror grew as he realized he was fading into unconsciousness.

NO! He can’t, he can’t fall asleep! He can’t—he doesn’t want to see those horrible things!

They’d kill him again and again and there wasn’t anything he could do please no. The black slowly crawled towards him, the swirling vortex of color fading to grey as it closed in on him.

HE NEEDS TO STAY AWAKE

STAY

AWA—

The lights went out.

Black. Everything was black.

Wherever he turned, there was no light, only the endless, indescribable Void. And yet…this didn’t feel exactly like the Void. But something else. His boots made no sound as he walked and he could feel his skull as it tilted side to side, but his surroundings remain indiscernible.

The sensation is strange. It’s like he’s floating, like he’s watching someone else move and control his body and he’s just the passenger looking in with how disconnected he feels from it all. And through the darkness, memories float pass him like leaves in the wind. His own voice echoes from afar, somewhere.

We worked so hard everyday.

Standing side by side with Papyrus, proud through all the scorn, the disdain, the remarks both physical and verbal that he would never be good enough, smart enough, tough enough, from their father and yet he made it. He protected his best friend. He was there for Frisk through it all. Because no matter what anyone said about him being such a failure or mistake, at least he knew his best friend thought he was fine as he is. And if the ones he cherished most thought Sans was good enough, then surely he must be.

He had a brother and friends who loved him, who cared about him, and a sister in all but magic and dust who cared for him. Stopping their father from going too far and helping him with homework when he struggled with his education. The tension between monsters and humans made life uncertain, and uneasy, but…

We had to grow up so fast, but we could still enjoy our lives.

Even that obnoxious robot had his moments. They might fight and disagree about a lot. They all came together to protect each other, to stand by one another no matter what.

We learned to work together and smile despite the circumstances. To find a reason to be happy and fight for a better world. We met many people, monsters and humans, and we became one huge family.

Sans thought similar to how the legend of monsters sealed Underground was a tale long told, his life was also a story. One with so many pages left unturned and events yet to be transcribed. The ink of the past had long dried while he continued to write.

Everything seemed to be getting better. Their father was kinder he wasn’t really around, he was an esteemed member of the Guard, Frisk was out of the strange funk he’d been in and had even gone for ice cream with Muffet and let her ruffle his hair, and although he was still woefully single, his penpal made his days all the more richer just by him being there.

Although he didn’t know the end to his story, he felt confident that it was headed towards a happy ending. The Unknown was a terrifying concept, to not know where you’re headed or what lies in store. But he’d thought it was like a present box. He’d have to wait before he could open it and find out. All the same, he’d thought his life was a gift. That he’d find his purpose, his meaning, his sense of self one day and make his world better for himself and for the ones he cared about.

“I’m so happy living this story!” That’s what I thought…

Onyx surrounding him as hues of gray and crimson slammed into him and the world tilted on its axis.

He struggled to his feet, fist clenching by his side as his hand pressed into the pain blooming across his skull and—wet?

Red, red, red, dripping down his ivory skull and pooling on a ground of vanta black.

But I was wrong.

His eyes had scrunched in pain. When he opened them, the black had faded to the outskirts of his vision. A small figure— a human? — in the center with a blade dripping red.

Uncomprehending, he stared, then glanced at his hand. His eyelights shrunk and his slashed zygoma burned.

“Yes…” he hadn’t realized they’d gotten closer until they were standing in front of him, the human’s head reaching his chest as they pressed the tip of their blade against his turtleneck. “Try to remember Sans.” Remember what? Though their voice was strangely familiar, Sans didn’t recognize this tiny human at all. “I swear, if your stupid mind keeps trying to forget…”

Their eyes meet his, and Sans feels a cold tingle travel up his spine. A round, cherubic face, but those eyes. Black with only his irises shining through. His senses were screaming at him to get away as adrenaline coursed through his chilled blood.

Human…human eyes weren’t supposed to be like that. It was wrong. It was wrong it was wrong it was wrong SOMETHING IS WRONG

“…We’ll have to meet in real life. I’ll make you suffer. Slowly. And only when I’m satisfied will I let you die.”

Sans knew only one thing for certain. His body couldn’t move, but his jaw slowly parted, “You’re n-not Frisk.”

They he laughed. The sound landed on his bones like freezing waves of water slamming against his brittle body. “Hahahaha! Maybe I’ll let you keep this up a while longer, I already know we’ll be best friends soon! Speaking of Frisky,” the child spun his blade, now a solid red as it burned with determination, in his hands before it sliced through the air too fast and somehow too slow all at once. “You should keep your eye socket on him!”

The blade slammed into his skull—

He awoke with a strangled scream in his through as his hands flew to his skull, breathing harsh and ragged as his body trembled and he felt around with shaking phalanges to staunch the flow of blood.

But there was nothing. No scar, no injury, and no red.

San’s didn’t understand. Hadn’t he just been dreaming about—he paused. He couldn’t remember. What didn’t he remember? It had felt so real, and a nagging feeling in his nonexistent gut itched at him that it was something very important, something he needed to know.

Sweat trickles down the sides of his skull and his clothes feel far too tight and sticky. He pushes the covers off and shakily stumbles to the bathroom shower whilst his agitated magic pours out as blistering heat radiating off of his bones.

The cold shower helped but he could still feel the phantom pain of something slicing through his bone like butter. His claw was constantly rubbing his face to both prove nothing was there and to see if something would suddenly appear.

He’s not sure what’s bothering him this badly. The memory slips from his mind like the shifting sand in an hourglass. Yet the phantom memory of it haunts him even as he goes about his usual routine. His hands tremble the entirety of the time he washes the dishes, the soapy gloves shaking and the plates slipping out his hold, or when he did the laundry and tried to prep dinner.

And then when he’d tried to clean his armor, and went to patrol with Papyrus and Frisk…

The sheer fear and loathing that had consumed him at the mere sight of the human terrified him.

These strange feelings of resentment and fear had been growing and he can’t remember didn’t understand why. He didn’t want to tell Papyrus, his brother shouldn’t have to worry about him any more than he already did. Their father never appreciated talking about these things in the past and likely wouldn’t now. And Alphys…

Well. Whatever haunted the lizard monster enough for her eyes to always be dull and empty for as long as he’d known her, it would be selfish of him to bother her.

That left his penpal. Already, the mere thought of conversing with his friend eased some of the tension around his soul. But he had yet to receive a letter from him. It’s been almost a month since they’ve last talked and Sans hopes he’s okay, his soul fluttering and tightening in his chest as he gnaws on the inside of his mouth.

The next few days with no letter in sight makes the worry in his chest grow to the point that he often circles back to his room to check his desk at least once every hour. Papyrus had yelled at him to stop burning a hole in the carpet with all his pacing, but he just couldn’t help himself. He was worried about his friend.

What if something happened to him? What if he didn’t want to talk to Sans anymore?

A sharp stab of pain in his soul at the thought of a shadowed figure turning away and leaving him behind. He tried to reassure himself even as his Soul continued to race. His friend wasn’t like that at all. He knew deep in his bones even if they’d never met face to face, that whoever his penpal was, he was a good person. He wouldn’t abandon Sans for no reason.

When he’d returned from the bathroom while brushing his teeth to check his desk, he nearly swallowed his toothbrush from the white of the envelope sitting innocently on his desk appeared before him.

Sans ran so fast and suddenly the toes of his feet scuffed into the floor and he tumbled over. Righting himself up with an embarrassed blush Sans all but tore apart the envelope in his haste to open it. His eyelights flying across the page with his Soul pounding beneath his ribcage as he read.

WHATEVER YOU DO, YOUR GASTER CAN’T KNOW ABOUT THESE LETTERS

If he’s nearby, destroy it. Yeet the pod into the Void or chuck it right into the Core, doesn’t matter. But whatever you do GASTER CAN’T KNOW

I know it’s asking a lot of you to trust someone you’ve never even met but buddy, please. PLEASE. Trust me. Don’t let him see.

Hell, if he’s anything like my d like my coworker is, if he learns about this he they always push too far, take everything WAY TOO FAR

PLEASE

Trust anyone else with this knowledge. But NOT. HIM

Please, buddy. I don’t want him to hurt you.

Please, trust me.

Please

Sans’s bones rattled as his thoughts raced. This wasn’t like his penpal at all. No greeting, no goodbye. His handwriting was messier, too, scribbled frantically by trembling hands desperate to bring the words needed to life and hanging on by a thread.

His thoughts raced far too fast for him to fixate on just one. Why was his friend so fearful of XGaster? Sure, his father hadn’t been the best father to him and Papyrus growing up, but…He hadn’t hit disciplined them that often he neglected them. And it wouldn’t have hurt for him to be more open with his emotions. But his friend seemed terrified.

Although Sans didn’t mostly believe his dad would hurt his friend due to his knowledge of their correspondence, the last thing Sans wanted to do was worry his friend. His friend was clearly troubled and Sans was at a loss of how to help.

He never wished their friendship wasn’t long distance more than he did at that moment. What comfort could he possibly offer from afar, what good could his words do more than physical actions? Could he really make any difference? Sans stared down at the letter and thought about all the times his day had brightened once he’d heard back from his penpal. All the times he’d needed a good laugh or smile, he’d had their letters to pull out of his now favorite dresser drawer to read through and look forward to.

If he could make his friend even a little bit as happy as his penpal made him…

Sans straightened and his eyelights gleamed with determination.

He had a letter to write.

❄︎♒︎♏︎ □︎⧫︎♒︎♏︎❒︎ ♐︎●︎♋︎◻︎ □︎♐︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ♌︎◆︎⧫︎⧫︎♏︎❒︎♐︎●︎⍓︎❼︎⬧︎ ⬥︎♓︎■︎♑︎⬧︎

Sans wished the world would just stop. Months had passed, but those damn nightmares continued to haunt his exhausted mind. He’s lost track of how many times he’d died. And he knew he died, the CHECKs he made on himself with both his magic and machines confirmed that his dreamscape of horrors was real, at least in some way. The LV surging through his leylines and simmering in his mana was testament to this fact.

His grasp on reality was slipping out of control as his waking world blended, incongruous, with the night. Exhaustion was a weighted burden while his Soul screamed and beat frantically within his chest. Desperate for this to end, for him to stop feeling like he was dying all the time.

Sans couldn't take it anymore. His hands trembled as he sobbed, bitter laughter choked out of his throat, and his breath came in harsh, ragged gasps that sounded loud to his own mind as he screamed, broken and raw, into the silent forest. His phalanges dug into his eye socket, tugging at the scar he'd caused in a moment of complete and utter surrender.

The pain grounded him. The Eye buzzed angrily within its prison but too bad. If he had to suffer, so did that damn thing. Gradually, his breathing calmed. He didn’t have time to have another mental breakdown in the middle of Snowdin’s forest. Shakily, he stood on trembling legs as the world shifted and lurched as he stumbled forward. He didn’t have the mental capacity to shortcut just yet, walking would have to suffice for now until his head cleared and the world stopped spinning.

Yeah. He can’t fall apart. He had shit to do and a baby brother to take care of, a megalomaniac poor excuse for a father to stop from plunging monsterkind into mutually assured destruction amidst humanity, and…

Sans’s Soul calmed, glacial mana thawing as a letter surfaced in his mind’s eye. That’s right. His friend. He should receive a letter from him any day now.

Slowly, he breathed in and out, closing his eyes and ignoring his throbbing scar as he remembered the correspondence they’ve exchanged. Under his breath he murmured a few of his favorite jokes they’d shared and a snort escaped his notice when he recalled his friend’s crude drawings of various taco combinations he’d concocted (and failed) to bring to completion.

Sans took a slow, deep breath, and exhaled as he stopped, his boots crinkled in the snow. Papyrus was an observant little bugger for a babybones. He’d be distraught if Sans came back dead on his feet. He summoned his magic and answered the Call of the Void as he strolled through the infinite, uncomprehending darkness and ignored the yearning pull in his chest to remain within the abyss to push through to the light on the other side. Sans’s boots softly thudded against the familiar cement of the Royal Lab as his shortcut ended.

Heh, he couldn’t help but smile, small and tired but no less genuine, at the sight of an unopened envelope on his desk. His timing was impeccable as always.

He slumped into his chair and opened the envelope. Rubbing his eyes and gingerly pressing against the aching scarred socket as his agitated mana slowly returned to a more tolerable calm state.

He reads.

My Mysterious Penpal,

I give you my word and swear on my Soul I won’t tell XGaster about any of our letters. It pains me to think of you hurting and there’s nothing I can do, but if this promise eased your pain at least a little, then I hope I can alleviate some of the unknown burdens you carry. This is clearly important to you, and I will respect and honor your wishes.

I’m sorry for all the pain I've caused you this past month, that wasn't at all my intention. I’ve missed you the past month and hope you feel better soon. I understand it’s presumptuous and personal, but is there anything else troubling you in your life?

Sans paused to process that paragraph. It’d been a month for his penpal while a few had passed for him. A sure-fire indication of time dilation. How far ahead was his universe compared to his friend?

Sans poured through his schematics and flipped through the blueprints one after the other while his pen flew across the sidelines of the paper in his rapid fire calculations. Checking this, then that must mean—he alimented the sheets to his computer, his foot tapped the floor and he hummed in idle contemplation as he waited—and took out the returned papers to read through them.

“Quantum entanglement…exhibiting correlation instantaneous across universes…” Sans murmured under his breath, turning the papers over. “…challenges traditional notions of simultaneity,” he nodded his head. “Makes sense, time dilation relative to its individualistic universe.” He ran the numbers through his head, numbers and letters flying past in a blur comprehensible only to him with half life of muon and Lorenz factor. He thinks of the pod he’d created that traveled between their worlds. “Velocity approaches the speed of light, time dilation becomes increasingly significant.” No object could travel faster than the speed of light.

According to his schematics, Sans’s universe is roughly one decade ahead of his penpal’s. Time seemed to pass about twice as fast, given that it had been a month for his friend while for Sans it had been months.

He wondered how similar their worlds were, wondered if his friend’s life was a comedic tragedy given that’s how Sans’s seemed to be turning out. He hopes not, for his friend’s sake.

Sans had a Feeling. And whenever he had a Feeling, his gut was never wrong. They were in the Eye of the Storm, their lives one paradigm shift away from total collapse unto either blessed fortune or ruin. It was a coin toss on where they landed.

The Feeling continued to press down on him, an invisible, stifling, heavy thing.

If it helps any, I’ve also had a troubled time myself lately. Have you ever had any weird dreams about…about killing people? I…I’ve been having these nightmares, I think, and the ones I remember I think I hurt my best friend and he’s lying in front of me and he won’t move and it’s all my fault and I’m scared I’ve been getting them more and more lately and it’s starting to melt over into how I interact with him irl.

I don’t know what to do. I want it to stop. I’d never hurt him, I would never kill anyone, I swear! I don’t want — I just don’t know what to do. I want to go to sleep without fearing when I wake up that I’d become something I’m not and a person I don’t want to be. Does that make sense?

Sans hated it when he was right. Jeez, his poor friend…

I don’t mean to take away from your own pain at all, I thought maybe offering my own experience would be relatable? No that sounds bad sorry mierda hey uh, don’t, you’re kind of the only person I can talk to about these things, and I want you to know it’s a two-way street. I won’t dump all my problems on you, I just feel like I can trust you with these things and that you’re safe? Does that make sense?

You can tell me whatever and I want to help you, too, anyway I can. And if this is the only way, I’m here for you, friend.

Sincerely, Your Friendly Neighborhood Dude

Poor guy, sounds like he’s been having the same sleepless nights. It was comforting, in a way, to know he wasn’t the only one suffering all too realistic nightmares and that he could offer some comfort to his friend. No memes this time, his pal needed real help, and he was the only one to do it.

It was the least he could do for the person who was always there for him whenever he needed a break from it all. If he could be an escape for his friend, then that’s all he really wanted.

Sans slowly wrote, his mind in pace with his hands with every leisurely stroke across the page. Careful and precise to pour his Soul out to the other and let the letter soak up all the intent he had to help and how much he cared for his friend.

I know it’s scary, terrifying, even, to experience allathat. But one thing’s for sure: you’re not crazy.

Hyper-realistic dreams, and who’s to say they’re not real? Magic is a disparate blend between the reality we know and don’t. If something like the Void can exist, the limbo between reality and non existence where time and space are shred apart per particle movement, why can’t dreams, on some level, be the same?

Whether or not a dream is reflective of your life and what’s actually happened or is fantasized, it doesn’t take from the fact that it’s real to you. How you feel about the horrors you experienced is valid and you deserve to feel safe and cared for after what you’ve been through.

Heh, that’s Sans, alright. Always there for someone else. Why couldn’t someone be there for him?

….His penpal was…

Take care of yourself, bud. Really. I don’t know how to stop those nightmares of yours, but the best thing you can do is try and avoid dreaming at all. Pass the time with a videogame, an anime, a good book, something. You mentioned you have a younger brother right? You don’t have to tell him about your nightmares if you don’t want to, but he’s your family

Sans thought of Gaster. How he’d created Sans and a few years ago, Papyrus, for his own personal gain. His yet-to-be successful projects, test-tube babies.

Pathetic excuse for a monster…

You don’t have to tell him about your nightmares if you don’t want to, but he’s your family. If you can trust him even a little, let him in. He’s probably worried about you, and if he’s half the good brother you describe him to be, will do his best to support you.

To stop your nightmares, stop your dreams themselves. Find something to help pass the time and healthy ways to exhaust your mind and body so you can peacefully sleep.

I know this is a lot to go through all alone, and I appreciate you opening up to me and trusting me like this. Admittedly, it’s the same for me. You’re kind of my best friend, man, and your letters have helped me so much.

Thinking of his friend when he screamed into the forest was enough to pull him out of the familiar dark mental spiral he was sinking in. The biggest source of comfort in his effed up life, that’s what his penpal was.

Take care of yourself, because someone really cares about you.

Sincerely, Me.

Gentle fingers seal the letter and pod within the envelope before he sends it off. A tired but bright smile lighting up his exhausted face.

Until there’s a heavy, bulky hand on his shoulder that squeezed his cuff and filled his marrow with ice.

“It’s time, Sans.” Gaster speaks lowly with only a hint of excitement to his otherwise detached, droning monotone. Sans carefully turns his skull, eyelights landing over at the Determination Extraction machine, turned on and buzzing ominously with — his Soul went cold. No no no, no, not Paps! He was so small, he needed to be strapped to a booster seat, his tiny hands loose from the buckles that spanned his entire body. His baby brother cooed and babbled, eyelights wobbling as he tapped the glass and tried to call out for him strapped to a chair.

The infant sobbed with tears falling out his sockets as he frantically searched for him. Gurling nonsensical cries for help while Sans slowly rose to his feet and froze at the feeling of the hand upon his shoulder, squeezing him hard enough to make the trapped bone within his hold ache.

“Time to break the Barrier once and for all.”

#epic sans #cross sans #crepic #epiccross #crepic fanfic #crepic letters #my wiritng

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ivyprism · 2 years ago

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Solaris: Delphinus is okay. Kioko: She's okay? She said she was going to break my legs! And don't tell me she didn't mean it, okay?! 'Cause she gave me the mackerel eyes, she meant it! Solaris: Kioko, Delpinus threatened me. She threatens Oberon every day. She probably threatened Cygnus before breakfast this morning. It's what she does. ------- @kioko-noodles / @kiokodoodles

#incorrect quotes?#correct quotes?#incorrect quotes #i dunno #the fading stars #the fading stars papyrus #the dying stars skelesona #the dying stars #the fallen stars #the fallen stars papyrus #the fading stars sans

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riftfic · 1 year ago

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15. Determination

. . .

Warnings: strong language, violence

Featured Characters: Sans, Chara/Frisk (Reader), Asriel, Papyrus, Toriel, Asgore

Wanted to get this out to you before the weekend. :) Hope you enjoy!

< Load | RESET | Continue >

Past shimmering magic and the inner turmoil of a hundred souls, another heart-ached voice cried out. Its miserable, forsaken ballad reverberated across your ancient bond. You clung to Sans’ hand like a lifeline. You knew who waited for you beyond the veil. More than ever, you wanted to save him, though words had never been enough.

“Asriel,” you called.

His winged form faded into sight among hazy, darkened rainbows. His muzzle hid in his claws. He appeared confused, scrambled, as if all his motivations had fallen out of sight. The souls that had become him no longer listened. They had filled him with emotions beyond anger and hate and abandoned him to face his demons.

In all his terrible majesty, the frightening creature Asriel had become did not deter you. When you glanced back for reassurance, Sans released his grip with an encouraging nod. You stepped as near as you could and touched a small hand to Asriel’s shoulder.

“Azzy . . .” you said more dearly.

“What . . . what did you do?” he murmured. Behind his talons, his eyes shone with sadness, confusion, and anger. “What’s this feeling?”

“It’s okay,” you chose to reassure him. “I’m here.”

“No. NO!” he snarled and tore away. “I don’t need you. I don’t need anyone!”

A hundred tiny comets gathered at his hands. You took a step back, knowing too well the rain of destruction that followed. With a single push of his arms, those projectiles charged you like a murder of crows after scraps. They whizzed like fireworks past your head, fanning wild the burnt umbre of your hair. You followed the steps you had always taken to avoid their pattern, but this formation was different. Without thinking, you dodged one bullet directly into the path of another.

Sans pulled you out of the way with less than a moment to spare. With a crack and blue flash, his shortcut shifted both of you just a few yards from a meteor shower and cosmic annihilation. Your arms clung to his, shaking. This time, you were truly grateful he had stepped in to save you from the treacherous walk along your tightrope.

“Why?” Asriel snapped. “Why do you like playing with him more than me?!”

The magic that had once immobilized Sans outside this dreamspace now crushed him. Pain splintered through every fiber of his body. Though he resisted, Asriel’s raw, merciless strength forced him out of your hold to his knees. One bone snapped, then two. If he could breathe he might have screamed or even begged, anything beyond the wild silent grimace seizing him now. Bright stars burst behind his darkening eyes. Red began to spark and burn bright in his chest.

“Stop!” you yelped. “You’re killing him!”

Asriel certainly knew. A rage more personal than you had ever witnessed gnarled his face. His razorlike claws curled to channel his magic with mounting pressure. Sans buckled under the torture running fissures through his bones. You dropped to his side and held his cracking form close.

You knew Asriel did it to hurt you. You knew he did it to break Sans’ determined spirit. There was nothing Sans could do to stop it. There was nothing you could do. There was no escape.

You bit back your hopelessness. No. Giving up was exactly what Asriel wanted. Plenty of opportunity had passed to surrender, and now was not the time to relent. You pushed yourself firmly to your feet to chase one more chance.

“Get away from me,” Asriel growled as you approached again. He bared his teeth. “You think I won’t tear you apart?”

You clenched your fists and walked forward defiantly.

“I said get away!”

You had already locked your arms around him.

The fury of his magic sputtered like an engine out of fuel. The invisible death grip crushing Sans squeezed tighter, then tighter . . . then slowly released. Asriel’s shoulders slumped.

Sans coughed dust and shuddered amid the red threads sewing him back together. For a long moment, he simply lay there, mind racing with shock and trauma and relief to be free of him. His natural sense for the inner soul, what he focused to ascertain your sins, tasted sour with malintent. Asriel had wanted him to hurt. He had wanted him to pay.

“Let go,” growled Asriel. He had again curled into himself. “Let me win . . .”

“Please,” you said. “Please, Azzy, you don’t have to do this anymore.”

“It’s the only way you’ll stay with me,” he protested. He hung his head over your shoulder. “I’m not ready for things to end.”

Sans bitterly rose, muttering several choice words that described “the prince of this world” a little less kindly.

“It doesn’t have to,” you said into the great emblem on Asriel’s chest. “It can keep going. You and me, into the sunset, on the surface.”

“No,” he said. “I can’t. I’ll be a heartless little flower running around the Underground, all alone, forever.” Tears sped down his face. “I’m so afraid, Chara.”

His broad, frightening pauldrons and sharp talons retracted. As his silhouette shrank in more than posture, a small, sobbing boss monster child in a green striped sweater took his place. He clung to you as if letting go would untether him from port, sending him adrift into the maelstrom again.

“I’m so sorry,” he said.

Asriel wept at length on your shoulder.

As he watched, a realization both blistering and chilling crept over Sans’ soul. After everything, his great and terrible adversary had been nothing more than a frightened child. He set his teeth and bit his tongue, every inch haunted by the phantom pains of snapping apart. Was any context enough to forgive him?

From the mist of his memory, Toriel emerged. He remembered her grief, her loneliness, the children she had lost. He thought of you, how you had loved the soulless flower enough to save him, even though you couldn’t remember why.

His heart calmed. If he could reconcile anything, it was that he loved you more than he wanted to hurt him.

Eventually, Asriel dried his eyes and smiled at you faintly. “I always was a crybaby, wasn’t I?”

You nodded. “Just a little.”

He surveyed you as if you had returned from the dead—and for all accounts and purposes, this was true. “Is it really you?” he asked. “Are you really . . . Chara?”

You pondered this for a long moment and for many long moments to come. Chara was the name you had been given at the start of your journey. It was this name that fueled the fire behind Asgore’s law, this name that had given weight to Wingdings’ final experiment, this name that had led Asriel down misery’s path. What were you if not the culmination of your experiences? All you had remembered could not be unwritten. And yet someone had reminded you that who you once were and who you could be were two entirely different things. You were not tethered to your ghosts. The road ahead was yours to choose.

You met Sans’ gaze over your shoulder. He stood a safe distance away, hands pocketed, even if his posture were tense. His left eye burned brighter than the right, at the ready, apprehensive but following your lead. Trust. Even when you lost sight of yourself, he believed in you. He always would. You wanted to be that person.

You wanted to deserve it.

“I go by Frisk now,” you said.

Sans’ burning eye sparked with blue and gold like fireworks.

Asriel studied the emotions passing between you. Bittersweetness tainted his smile.

“I was so jealous,” he said, “of you two. I still am. It’s . . . childish, isn’t it?”

“an ass-toot observation,” Sans muttered under his breath.

To his surprise, Asriel actually chuckled, even if small and removed with sadness. Sans’ hackles relaxed marginally at the sound. Even at its coldest, his heart always melted to a child’s laughter.

“Sorry,” Asriel said bashfully, then continued, “I know I can’t have you all to myself. That’s not fair. I’m . . . not entirely sure what brought you together but . . . I can tell it was special.” His small frame shrank further. “I didn’t understand that the way I was ‘playing’ was hurting you . . . or maybe I did. I didn’t care. I couldn’t care. And Sans, you were only protecting them. You were doing what I should have done. I’m so sorry.”

Sans teetered between accepting and refuting the apology. Then, he turned his eyes away, content to do neither.

Asriel nodded knowingly.

“There’s no excuse for what I did,” he said. “I hurt you. I hurt so many people. Friends, family, bystanders . . . I understand if you can’t forgive me.”

Your heart sank to recognize his words. You knew what he planned to do and what it meant. Like every time before, he would break the barrier and return to the Underground’s depths while the rest of monsterkind walked on sandy beaches under a bright blue sky. You would forgive him, and it wouldn’t matter.

“You’ll do great,” he said quietly. “They believe in you.” His eyes drifted to Sans. “Both of you. Whatever you do . . . don’t give up.”

As Asriel’s young form ascended with mounting energy, Sans rejoined your side.

When he had broken the barrier in the past, Sans only experienced the sensation of a colossal power falling around him. Every time, a great, bright light had enveloped him and when he opened his eyes, their long-coveted freedom waited just ahead. To be here, standing among every soul accumulating with fervor, radiating like the sun, streaking through the darkness like new stars—the vision was nothing short of phenomenal.

He rested a hand on your shoulder. His eyes stared into the lights with the same enamoration you had felt roaming the magical streets of New Home. The instant you looked into his face, this moment that had become one of sadness came alive again. You smiled, thankful to share this with him, grateful to have him by your side.

As the barrier shattered into a thousand pieces, Sans’ rapture twisted into dark apprehension. The sight shook you. Shouldn’t he be happy?

Before you could ask him what was wrong, that familiar brightness overtook you more quickly than it ever had before and spat you out from this nightmare into the real world once again.

Your souls burst from Asriel like a flying fish from the water. They rocketed through the air in search of home, spinning around each other like sparklers in a gush of red glitter. Then, they found their marks. They took off like shooting stars, straight toward their empty shells.

The sound of his name called Sans back to life. It sounded spoken at a distance, shrilly, and in dramatic sobs begging him to wake up. The words grew louder until bouncing around his skull. He squirmed in a pair of bony arms that gripped him far too tightly.

“can’t . . . breathe,” he wheezed. He tapped out faintly, three slaps to the dirty, broken floor. “bruh . . .”

“SANS!” screamed Papyrus.

Sans gasped as his brother unsealed the vacuum in his ribcage. He coughed and gagged.

“FINALLY!” Papyrus wiped frantically at his face. “LAZYBONES. ALWAYS NAPPING.”

Sans blinked up at him from his lap, color rising. “were you cryin’?” he asked.

“NO!” said Papyrus. “I DON’T CRY! I JUST . . . CAUGHT SOMETHING IN MY EYE.”

A smile crept onto Sans’ face to recognize this age-old exchange. “what did you catch?”

“TEARS!”

Sans chortled, and Papyrus’ haughty façade quickly crumbled to join him. Skull to skull, arms around each other’s necks, their laughter came from a place much deeper than humor. It echoed through the overfilled halls until every monster in the Underground knew just how happy they were to be alive and together again.

As their voices calmed to smiles, Sans fondly rubbed the smooth bone of his brother’s skull, the same way as he had when the stalk was only a bean. On an average day, Papyrus would have protested, but things were different now.

Sans tallied his friends. They had flocked together around Asgore’s fresh hole in the wall, where he had sheltered your empty body. His relief dissipated. He climbed out of Papyrus’ arms and scrambled through rocks, debris, and cracked hallway floors. Just inside the group, he tripped and fell over his own shoelaces, but that did not stop him. He elbowed his way to the front past Undyne and Asgore on his knees.

Hardly a breath stirred your chest, though subtleties of that new color had returned to your cheeks. A fresh breeze tickled your skin and sunlight glimmered across you with true, unabated warmth. Birds whistled a disjointed chorus into your ears. Though your new name danced around your head in many voices, only one drew you out from the reverie.

“frisk? frisk!” Sans snapped his fingers in front of your eyes. “c’mon, kid. don’ scare me any more than you gotta.”

You pushed his hand away. “Back up or get chucked on,” you gulped. You rolled over and buried your head in your arms, fighting the urge to expel your guts all over the broken floor. Your vision swam. As the memory of today’s events unfolded behind your eyes, however, you bolted upright and swung your head around.

“The barrier,” you said.

“Broken,” Toriel answered, gently brushing the hair off your forehead, “with thanks to you . . . Frisk.”

Her touch had felt different, familiar and knowing, timid and shaking. In the dampened, ocean-salted fur of her cheeks bled an aching recognition. Without doubt, she saw the truth of who you really were, even if she didn’t understand it. You opened your mouth.

“Mom?”

Every face turned toward the flower bed.

Sans’ clenched your shoulder, then, trepidly, he helped you stand. Your eyes, so bright, so nearly crimson, widened to brand this sun-crisped sight on the inner pages of your soul. Your determination swelled red hot until overflowing.

There, among emerald leaves and amber petals, stood Asriel.

He looked just as he had the day you met, daylight burning in a familiar halo off pale white fur. His hands, small, frightened, and confused, held his attention. One paw retracted to clutch his heart, as if something unexpected resided there, as if for the first time he felt alive and whole and real.

“Why am I . . . here?” he asked breathlessly. “What is this inside me? Who . . .”

A moment of awestruck silence filled the passage. Then, to everyone’s surprise, Sans burst out laughing. He chuckled like a pull string doll, arms clutching his stomach with relief and joy and perhaps a slightly twisted sense of humor. Papyrus raised a cold hand to slap him upside the head but before he could, Sans pointed a bony finger at Asriel.

“you stole your own soul, you idiot,” he laughed.

Asriel blinked. “Huh?”

Before he could slip in another word, you had flung your arms around him and tumbled him down into a knot. Leaves, pollen, and petals burst into the air as if to punctuate the act, or perhaps to celebrate it. You nuzzled into the bright fur of your long lost friend, your brother, here, alive, saved.

Toriel and Asgore soon rushed into the fray. How they felt about each other didn’t matter. Their children had returned. Their children were alive. They sobbed and smiled and questioned reality, but whatever the truth, none of you wanted it to end. You lay there happily engulfed, your lost family whole again at last.

Soon your friends had piled in to create a pile of bones and scales and fur. Undyne, Alphys, Papyrus . . . you opened your eyes to look for Sans.

He stood apart, hands pocketed. Though he hadn’t followed, his pinprick eyes watched you fondly over a smile never stronger, never truer. At that moment you knew: it was Sans who had walked your brother home. Somehow, he had discovered the answer and followed through . . . for you. Thankful tears filled your eyes. You should have never doubted him. You outstretched your hand and called his name. He took a bashful step forward.

Suddenly, he froze. Deep below his feet, seismic shudders warped and churned. Their volume and intensity expounded until stones quivered by the soles of his shoes. His phone vibrated, clattering against his phalanges in a life or death intelligence check against the dungeon master. The results snuffed the lights from his eyes. His smile ran away screaming.

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

“we have to go,” he breathed.

Asgore rose from the pile. “Sans, what is happening?” he asked.

Sans snatched your outstretched hand and pulled you from the tangle as well. To Asgore, he said, “everybody needs to leave the underground, now.” His eyes dashed wildly through a mist of sprinkling dust. Hairline cracks were spiraling through the floor, walls, and ceiling, still deciding where best to split apart. “we’re outta time. come on, kid, we gotta move.”

When Sans began running with you in the opposite direction, Toriel launched to her feet with dismay. She clung to Asriel, eyes wide with fright. “Where are you taking them?” she cried.

“trust me!” Sans called back, though regret speared his throat. “run!”

The royals' leap of faith became easier as dirt worked itself loose from the overhead stones in silver drapery. Asgore's booming voice ushered everyone out, a more effective siren than Sans’ quiet cello.

Halfway into the rumbling Core, you still clung to his hand, afraid but trusting. “Where are we going?” you finally asked. “Sans, why are we going the other way?”

Sans flinched as he tried and failed a third time to take a shortcut. The atmosphere swam with an increasing disregard for all laws of physics. The pathways jittered as if each step could fall through or fly away. Thankfully, their footing remained stable, even if deja vu ran their heads ragged.

“when i was in the void,” Sans explained through huffs of breath, “dings said the rift was on the verge of bustin’ wide open.”

The two of you broke from the Core into MTT Resort. Mettaton’s statue lay in pieces, and you splashed through its rippling puddle on the marble floors. As you hurried onward, Sans quickly urged what lingering monsters remained to flee the underground.

The world trembled more ferociously the farther you traveled.

“one more broken barrier and he couldn’t hold it back anymore.” He led you down the stairs, across Hotland’s quickest path. “but the machine in the basement can stop it.”

You passed the Lab. A hard crack split that edifice down the middle and southward through the plateau. Hot steam billowed threateningly out the fissures, which you dodged following Sans’ deft footsteps. The heat nearly blistered you; no doubt the smallest misstep would have seared straight through your boots. At a glance down the stairs, you could see that the River person was no longer present—and neither was the river.

Just before reaching the cave to Waterfall, an explosion threw you viciously to the cooling ground, where you collided with Sans in a helpless pile. The two of you turned back to the Lab in horror.

The building hovered in pieces, slowly lifting in an arc from its shattered foundation. The surrounding earth collapsed into the bubbling lava, splashing and steaming as if a volcano had erupted. A hollow in the molten rock folded inward below an accordion of walls and floors, eaten whole by a crisp fracture slicing reality like a shattered mirror. The Rift was expanding.

“to your feet, kid!” Sans barked.

You scrambled out from your shock and kicked off the ground to follow him.

“I thought you couldn’t fix it!” you shouted above the crackle of earth that chased you.

“dings told me what i was missing,” Sans answered.

“Which is . . . ?”

He hesitated. “i’ll show ya when we get there.”

Clouds of dark mineral dust showered down from the quaking ceiling. Around your feet, ancient crystals and loosened stone scattered and jostled as if you sped through a rock tumbler. Together you struggled through chaos and occasional monsters running past. You wondered if you should warn them about the rift awaiting them.

Sans guided you through a field of glowing mushrooms, which flickered and faded and illuminated again as if time itself combed their stems. You jumped rivers, slipped between waterfalls, cut corners through unfamiliar caves. He knew this place better than you ever did.

The cold air nipped at your ankles first. Then, the yawning mouth to Snowdin glittered bright with a blinding cloud of stirred snow. Relief like the scent of familiar incense curled around you a second too soon. Cracks rocketed into ravines in the stone above. They shot ahead to the far opening, where the cavern arch began to give way.

Sans' fingers finally sparked with blue. He set his teeth.

“hold on tight,” he said.

Just as the ceiling snapped and transmuted into plunging rubble, a shocking cyan portal scooped you up and spat you out into a dark room.

Cold tile pressed against your human skin, and the scent of earthen mildew crawled through the air. The basement. A nearby clatter told you Sans already searched for the light switch.

Under that single fluorescent bulb, there was no hiding his panic. The distant tremors were growling slowly louder, only minutes behind you. Though the earth had yet to tremble here, the sound alone quaked his bones. His shaking hands missed the outlet twice before plugging in the machine.

“Sans,” you said.

He tore back the curtain. That roughened, scorched jumble of metal hardly saw light before his left hand slapped the power switch on its side. It groaned to life with opposition, but once it got used to the idea, it hummed a steady note. The frequency curdled your blood.

“Sans,” you repeated.

His fingers trembled on the keyboard with hesitation, then dashed across the keycaps faster than you could type. Pixels on the screen scrolled through data more quickly than could be read. Its signs and symbols matched the ones you had seen him use when scanning for anomalies: stars, bombs, skulls . . . hands.

“SANS,” you snapped.

Finally he turned to you, though his head hung low on his neck.

For a moment, nothing but tremors, magic, and electricity shuddered the air. Your hair felt to stand on end.

“Why am I here?” you croaked.

This made no sense. It went against everything you knew about Sans to drag you back into the fray. If the Underground were truly moments from collapsing, he should have urged you out with the others. The puzzle had been clicking together, but the missing pieces hid in his pockets.

A hundred emotions crossed his face, emotions he had once guarded from you behind a grinning mask. You couldn’t decide which was worse. He skirted around the back of the machine, where he pried open a dusty compartment. Inside were an empty reservoir and a fogged out fuel gauge that rested on zero.

“thought this was for regular ol’ magic,” he said quietly. “heh . . . putting gas in the diesel tank ‘s what i was doin’.”

You eyed him uneasily.

After a long, long second, he met your stare guiltily.

“it doesn’t need magic or electricity, or gas or diesel neither,” he said. The words left him distraught. “it needs . . . you.”

Your eyebrows tried to touch. “I don’t understand.”

“determination!” he nearly burst. His arms spread wide as if to take flight. “a mighty heaping helping of bloody red determination.”

The statement didn’t strike you as worrisome until you saw just how upset it made him. He paced back and forth, breathing fast like a racehorse. His hands balled into fists until they shook and dug their knuckles into his forehead. Blue magic leaked from his left eye.

The realization snuck up behind you. Even if the lab hadn't been destroyed, Alphys had already run through most of her supply treating fallen monsters who would become amalgamates. Only siphoning from a source could supply determination now--directly from a human soul. You had no idea what that meant for you, but by the way Sans acted now . . .

“stars fucking damn it!” he snarled.

He braced himself against the machine and kicked it once, twice, three times. Then he gripped the corners more gently, and his shoulders heaved.

The tremors were growing louder.

“kid, it could kill you,” he breathed through a mess of tears. He pressed his forehead to the metal. “you could die and even then it might not be enough to work.”

Plaster and dust exhaled from the ceiling.

“but the rift doesn’t care,” he went on. “it won’t stop with the underground or the surface. if we let it go, sooner or later . . .”

Your heart skipped into your throat.

“i don’t know what to do,” he said. He slumped to sit in front of the temporal flux manipulator and cradled his face in his hands. Angry tears slipped through his phalanges. “i’m sorry.”

You watched him shudder under that impossible weight. Your eyes lifted to the splintering ceiling. Your ears turned to the quaking earth. Your tongue tasted dust in the air. Your nose breathed the scent of dirt and magic. Your mind raced with everywhere you had been, everything you had seen, everyone you had met and learned to love.

Sans felt your human warmth draw near. Behind his fingers, a brightening glow of red permeated the bone. His face twisted alongside his heart in knots.

Your soul pirouetted above your hands just as it had for Asgore, only this time no self-sorry streams decorated your cheeks. A smile lingered instead, melancholy but determined.

“frisk, no,” said Sans. He took your wrists and pushed them back toward your chest. “i can’t make you do this.”

“You’re not making me do anything,” you said.

“there’s no tellin’ what’ll happen,” he said quickly. “even if it works, we could go back before the barrier was broken and never get out again. whole thing could rewind to the day we clipped the timeline.” Pain clutched his eye sockets. “you and asriel . . . you two could stay dead.”

“What about your brother?” you asked.

Sans grimaced and blinked another swell of tears from his eye sockets. “there’s a chance,” he said, “maybe the only chance in the world he’ll come back. but it could kill him too. truth be told . . . we’re flyin’ blind.”

Your bright red heart bled for him in your hands. You knelt down only a breath away. “You saved my brother,” you said. “Let me try to save yours.”

Sans shook his head miserably. He still clung to your wrists, though faintly, barely holding on.

The basement floor’s ceramic tiles began to separate and collide, spitting up caulk and crumbs of stone. Flakes of plaster landed on your shoulders and in your hair.

“We’re running out of time,” you said as calmly as you could when your heart rattled your ribs like prison bars. “It’s either some of us, or none of us. That’s the choice, Sans.”

He hung his head, knowing it to be true.

“I’m determined to do this,” you said. The corner of your mouth twitched into a knifelike smile. “You can’t stop me.”

As he searched your eyes, his soul swelled with conviction, burning hot and red like engine coals. He faltered then, mind rushing with a thought he hadn’t considered, a truth he hadn’t faced until dying repeatedly at the fiery claws of a bitter demon. Determination: the power to stay alive, to undo death, to spool back time until you hit that god damn bullseye.

“and i’m determined not to let you die,” he said.

He flattened a hand to his chest, then tugged out his soul by an invisible string. Though scars clenched its shell in a thousand barbed teeth, it burned brighter than the North Star. A brilliant red overtook most of its form, more vivid and overwhelming than he expected, even if the edges whitened like frosted glass.

The sight of it overwhelmed you. Never had you seen a soul like this. Never had you imagined his to be so hauntingly beautiful.

He lifted you to your feet and pulled you close. The walls around you were crumbling, but your souls hummed strong and true.

“i promised to see ya through,” his voice lilted into your ear. “so let’s do this together.”

The moment you understood what he planned to do, you shook your head adamantly. “No, you can’t,” you said.

“yes, i can,” he insisted. “ya always try to do everythin’ yourself. just this once . . . let me help you.”

Suddenly, there it was: the truth you had been denying since the start. It had never been the resets at the core of what hurt him. What had truly wedged you apart had been your drive to shoulder everything like a lone wolf. When you had first decided to rewind the clock, you had done it without a word to anyone. When you had sought to save Asriel, you had pursued it alone. Even when Sans had finally forced your hand, you had resisted his aid at every step. It had crushed him to dust. It had broken bridges in Waterfall. It had cast him into the void. It had nearly driven you to darkness, until once again he had reached out into the encroaching night and saved you.

You held on a moment longer despite the urgency raining down in gray clouds. If he didn’t make it, you wanted to remember how it felt.

“Okay,” you said.

Programs sequenced into action with a few more entries into the data pad, which shuddered the machine into a readying hum. He tied your souls to those machinations in ways you didn’t quite understand: magic threads both warm in the pit of your soul and cold where they spooled into the darkness of an empty chamber.

He lifted his hand to rest on that all too familiar lever and stilled to find yours already there. You smiled confidently, ready with a single nod. His grip gained courage, and together, you pulled down into gear. Lines of data poured down the cracked monitor. The earth beneath you shook harder. A ravine split through the ceiling. Everything went white and still.

NOTES

One more chapter and then epilogue. :') We're nearly there.

Thank you so much for reading.

< Load | RESET | Continue >

#undertale #undertale fanfiction #frisk #sans #fanfiction #rift #ut #papyrus #fanfic #undertale fanart #asriel #chara

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ratsoh-writes · 7 months ago

Note

There is this new curse that makes people tell only the truth when it comes to good and positive feelings, preventing them from hiding them and not saying anything.

Dealer's choice of the cursed skeletons and maybe some secondary characters

Marcelo: he handles the curse with grace and dignity… until one of his wives/husband comes in the room. Oh look at that, the business meeting is over! Unless Marcelo’s associates want to see him flirt HEAVILY with his mate/s. Before he could censor himself, but now there’s nothing holding him back lol

Papyrus: he doesn’t even notice he’s been cursed. It’s not like papyrus has ever been shy about being affectionate. He’s told all his friends he loves them before. Because he does!

Captain: oh his crew takes full advantage of captains curse. And he hates it! He keeps having to tell his crew how much he loves and appreciates them. Just because he does doesn’t mean he has to shout it out for them to hear! They should know this already!!!

Chaos: unfortunately being a chihuahua means she’s limited in how she can verbally show her love, but as chaos’ main mode of communication involves body language, this results in some interesting events. Namely her dancing furiously every time her favorite people enter the room. Every one is confused and concerned when the dog starts doing the swan lake routine whenever willow enters the room lol

Red: oh no, oh my stars no. The positive side to this is that red against all odds has confessed to his crush his feelings. The negative side to this is that he won’t come out of his room until the curse fades now. Coward

#undertale imagines #undertale headcanons #undertale #lustfell #horrortale #seafell #underfell

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magic-hcs · 2 years ago

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CAN I HAVE A FIRST KISS SCENARIO WITH THATCH PLEASE AND THANK YOU I AM SO IN LOVE WITH THE BOY AND THERE IS NEVER ENOUGH HF PAPS CONTENT AROUND AAAAAA

AND YOU WRITE SO GOOD AAAAA💖💖💖

Of course you can, anon! You’re right! There’s never enough HF papy and I’m happy to provide. Thank youuuu I’m happy you enjoy my writings! *blush*

Warnings: much fluff, like a lot.

Thatch: HF Papyrus

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

✨✨

Thatch: Thatch been treasuring all the days, weeks and months he has spend with you as friends. When he had long crossed the line of no return, trekked through the lands of the deep darkness and thought he could never see the light on this murky and darkened path again; you appeared. Standing along side him with a soft smile on your face. You had reached out your hand and shown him a path that was just a tad brighter. You had given him hope that there still was a way. A trail leading away from the dust coated and bloody one he’s been treading for oh, so long. And Thatch is forever grateful for you standing by his side, believing in him and opening his eyes to a world full of beauty he has never seen before…

Thatch been treasuring the days and weeks of you together even closer to his chest. You looked at this damaged and ruined man among so many other choices and said “yes, this is the one I want to spend the rest of my life with.”

And Thatch been curious what he looks like in your eyes because you look at him as if he’s the stars lassoed from the sky and placed in the palms of your hands. You look at him like he did when he saw his first ever sunrise and sundown. You look at him as if he’s the most precious and beautiful thing in the world and you can’t believe he’s yours to hold, yours to love, yours to keep. Thatch been looking in the mirror, but no matter how hard or how long he looked he couldn’t see it.

But one day, he saw a tiny fraction of what you saw in him. It left him vulnerable and sensitive by the overstimulation. And it all started with a single kiss…

Thatch cannot for the life of him remember what happened before the kiss or after. All he can remember is the kiss itself, and oh, his entire body starts to tingle, his knees start to go weak just at the thought.

He remembers your eyes staring into his with so much love, love for him only, seeing everything he is and loving it. He remembers your hands, softly, gently resting upon his arms, giving a soft squeeze to ease the nerves, to reassure him. He remembers the touch of your warm breath fanning across his teeth, leaving behind a tickle of warmth, sending a wave of thrill through his bone marrow coursing towards his soul and fueling it with fluttering butterflies. He remembers the soft press of your lips upon his mouth, the warmth that flooded him, the sparks that created a storm of bliss. All that existed faded away like watercolors under rain, leaving behind only him and you. He remembers the tingling fire that spread all throughout his entire being. His soul that sung out to the heaven, begging to be released because the love and adoration and the intimate touch of your lips was all too much to bear.

A whimper consisting of only an escaping sigh resembling that of both a dehydrated man tasting the wonderful creation of water for the first time in so long, and a man whose hunger finally been satiated after weeks or even months of nothing to eat. Thatch remembers his knees giving in and him toppling backwards, falling against the wall behind him, forcefully yet unwillingly breaking the kiss. He doesn’t remember what happened after, mid blank by the overwhelming and addictive feeling of your adoration for him.

However, you had remembered what he looked like. Having burned the image in the back of your mind.

Thatch had looked absolutely drunk, eyelights flaring in a bright yet dark pink, the dots fully formed into hearts. Chest raising and falling in fast ragged breaths. He had looked so delectably precious that if you didn’t have half the mind to let this absolute treasure of a skeleton recover from his love drunk state, you wouldn’t have been able to resist getting another taste.

✨✨

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

#magical prompts #undertale #undertale x reader #papyrus #papyrus x reader #horrorfell papyrus x reader #horrorfell #horrorfell x reader #thatch #hf papyrus #horrorfell papyrus #undertale hc #hc #fluff

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quichein-me-softly · 20 days ago

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Hi! sorry to bother but I was wondering if you could do a sans x reader where it's like a first kiss scenario? It's alr if you can't! Have a great day!!

Author's note: No bother at all! And I'd actually like to thank you for being my first ask! Feel free to return with any new ideas lol

first kiss w/ sans

The stars shimmer softly above, casting a gentle glow over the empty picnic spot. The last of the laughter had faded, and the quiet hum of the night settled around you.

The day had been loud—filled with chatter and cheerful chaos. Papyrus and Undyne’s friendly bickering echoed over the hill as they teased each other about their sparring match, Alphys trying (and only half-succeeding) to wrangle Frisk into helping with an experiment that’d apparently gone slightly awry, Toriel chiding Asgore over a mix-up with the picnic basket.

But they've all gone home, leaving you with only the soft sounds of the night and the gentle presence of Sans beside you.

He leans back on the blanket, hands tucked behind his head, staring up at the stars with that familiar, lazy grin of his. “gotta hand it to ya, sunshine. pretty solid idea for a get-together. beats grillbz any day.”

You laugh, nudging him lightly. “Oh, come on, nothing beats Grillby’s in your book.”

“eh, fair point. still, wouldn’t mind doin’ this again. maybe next time, i’ll even bring my… stellar humor.”

You snort, rolling your eyes. “Oh, no. Please spare me the space puns, Sans. I don’t think I can take any more.”

“oh, c’mon, ya gotta admit, they're outta this world.”

You groan, hiding a grin. “Alright, I right walked into that one.”

"i call that a job well pun," he replied with a wink. You groan.

Then, you both fall into a comfortable silence, the night sky stretching endlessly above. The darkness wraps around you, serene and familiar, and you feel yourself relax into it, savoring the quiet, steady rhythm of simply being by his side. The world feels distant, leaving just the two of you, sharing a peace that needs no words.

After a moment, you tilt your head towards him, a thought surfacing as you gaze up at the sky. “Did monsters ever make wishes down in the Underground?” The question comes out softly, almost as if you’re afraid to break the spell of the moment.

“wishes, huh?” he echoes, his gaze staying fixed on the stars.

Sans' smile softens, and for a fleeting moment, something deeper lingers in his gaze. "yeah… yeah, we did. used to make ‘em all the time."

He pauses for a few seconds, choosing his next words carefully. "wishin' and waitin'… that was kinda all we had, y'know? we'd look up at the crystals in Waterfall, just hopin' someone out there might actually hear us." There’s something soft and somber in his tone, something that speaks of countless nights spent in darkness, staring up at artificial lights and longing for something… different.

As if the universe was listening, a shooting star streaks across the sky, a brief but brilliant trail of light. You catch your breath, feeling a little thrill as you shut your eyes and make a wish before the light disappears.

When you open your eyes, Sans is watching you with a faint, curious smile. “well, did ya wish for somethin’ good?”

“I did,” you reply, feeling your cheeks warm slightly. “What about you? Did you wish for anything?”

Sans leans back again, stuffing his hands into his hoodie pockets. He hesitates a little, his face a touch more serious. "heh, if i told ya, it wouldn't come true."

But there’s something in the way he’s looking at you now, lingering just a little too long, as if he’s forgotten to say something else. The silence stretches, and before he can stop himself, he mumbles, “can’t help it, though… feels like i might be fallin’ for ya.”

The words hang between you, and he visibly tenses, realizing what he’s just said. “uh, i mean—trippin’. heh, yeah. trippin’ for ya… guess i… gotta watch my step…” But the attempt to backtrack doesn’t fool either of you.

His face softens, the humor falling away as his gaze meets yours with something far more honest, even a little shy.

Heart pounding, you leaned closer, the fabric of your clothes brushing together as you whispered his name, barely able to find your voice.

"Sans?"

“what?” he murmurs, the word barely more than a breath, his voice tender and uncharacteristically soft.

Before you know it, you’ve closed the gap, your lips brushing his teeth in a feather-light touch. For a moment, he doesn’t move, and you worry you’ve crossed a line, that this might be too much—too soon. But then, his hand comes up to cup your cheek, hesitant yet grounding, as if he’s anchoring himself in the moment.

The kiss is soft and achingly gentle.

When you pull back, his eyes meet yours, carrying a warmth that speaks louder than any words. The moment hangs between you, charged with something fragile yet profound, neither of you daring to look away.

Finally he leans forward, his mouth brushing yours once more, this time with a little more confidence. The hum of his magic mingles with the crisp night air as he pulls you closer, his thumb gently stroking your cheek as he deepens the kiss. Each movement is careful and deliberate, as though he’s savoring something he’s barely dared to hope for. The kiss holds a quiet sincerity, making it feel precious—like he’s offering you a part of himself.

As you part, he lets out a soft, breathy chuckle, his eyes crinkling at the corners in that familiar way that shows he’s genuinely happy. The sound fills the quiet night, a soft echo of joy that lingers between you.

“So,” you say softly, trying to calm your racing heart, “what’d you wish for?”

He looks at you, his voice softened by a gentleness that feels almost like an answer in itself. “maybe i’ll tell ya someday…”

#fanfiction #undertale #sans #sans the skeleton #sans undertale #self insert #x reader #sans x reader #fluff #tooth rotting fluff #sans fanfic #quichein

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