#wd fanfic
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𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞 - 𝐀 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐩𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐧.
#project ppp#PermPostPaci#undertale#undertale au#fanfic#ao3 writer#chara undertale#asriel dreemur undertale#wd gaster#for my fanfic#fanart#comic art
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One Taste Could Send A Man To Heaven
By @beewritesstuff ! This fic is a gaster x reader that's fully completed! As per usual, watch the tags!
It's such an interesting take on Gaster and his existence within the Void as well as his story and his role in the lives of both Sans and Paps. This isn't even mentioning the dynamic between Sans and MC!
It's super well written, and I binged the whole thing in one night so I can't yell enough about how you should check it out here.
#wd gaster#gaster x reader#fanfic reccomendation#fanfic fanart#one taste could send a man to heaven#self insert
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something lovely i discovered while planning the story of the redemption of one damaged man, is that it turned into telling the story of an entire community that absorbs and guides that individual as he grows towards the light—he couldn’t do it alone, doing it alone is not the point; his growth is predicated on improved relationships with everyone around him and improved moral behavior with a positive impact on the galaxy. everyone who listens to him, assists and corrects him, all participate in the better man that he becomes, so his redemption is everyone’s story, not just his own. i think this is the fundamental difference between the religious concept of redemption and the concept of redemption as applied in a framework of secular ethics.
star wars the films offer the spiritual and religious redemption in vader's final act of selflessness and return to the light, but i'm not entirely satisfied by that—i want to see him develop into a better man. i want to see him experience and embody his redemption, which was always the genesis of the narrative of time travel after death. you can merely die as an individual for religious redemption, you have to live as a person for the secular kind, and nobody builds a life alone; we are inherently contextual creatures, and so becoming a compassionate and giving member of society radiates out into the surrounding spiderweb of strengthened bonds, and makes an entire community thrive instead of wither and break apart. it was just lovely to see the story of anakin's lived redemption ended up demonstrating lucas's ethical directive of symbiosis in a way that the films never really did.
#just had a Moment thinking abt this last night#anakin could not do it alone yk#fanfic stuff#wd#anakin skywalker#sw
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17. Epilogue
The end is here.
Thank you, everyone, for staying with me till now. I've made two additional illustrations buried in the text below. :)
Happy Anniversary, Undertale. 💙
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An incandescent future unfolded over the course of that year. Though far too familiar events repeated with frustrating familiarity, they arrived in new packages: some in bright and colorful wrapping, some in grossly damaged bags. Even if confusing and often jarring, most monsters expressed gratitude to have familiar yet unfamiliar lives awaiting. The additional security and a world more accepting allowed them to press on with more comfort than expected.
Not all were as fortunate. Several returned to lives in pieces. Lost relationships. Humans that knew them, loved them, and had aged beyond them. Photographs of small children they might never conceive. Tombstones engraved with names of the living . . . sometimes their own.
At first, Asgore and Toriel tried to shield you from the responsibility. This level of accountability, they said, should not rest on a child’s small shoulders. No one needed to know about your hand in the broken clock.
You didn’t see it that way. Not knowing why their lives had been stolen, left wondering if their relationships could be undone again, only festered the wound. So you explained to them what had happened and why, and swore that it would not and could not happen again. Amazing, how forgiving monsters could be—not that they all were.
For three months, HEART continued its search for monsters left behind. The moment Sans had recovered, he had jumped at the chance to join Papyrus and Undyne among their ranks. His unique teleportation magic served them well once he had a feel for those snaking, unfamiliar shafts and pathways. Places once difficult to reach suddenly became accessible. Dozens of monsters and their families owed him thanks, especially those trapped deep in the Ruins.
None of them were Wingdings.
With this and all else he had set in motion to free them, monsterkind quickly came to love and respect Sans in a way he had never truly experienced. Sure, he had been a recognizable face in the local comic scene, the friendly smile at Grillby’s every other night, the playful hotdog peddler in Hotland, sentry and judge for the royal family, but never . . . this. If the swath of gifts and well wishes in his hospital room hadn’t been enough proof, Asgor went far enough as publicly honoring him. He hadn’t knighted him, thankfully—a fact Sans could not celebrate more—but he did proclaim something more touching than that.
He named a star.
As a human, the first mention of this honor had underwhelmed you. Humans named stars all the time for science, for romance, for shits and giggles. What you hadn’t understood was that, to monsters, this meant far more than looking up and picking a distant flicker.
Their people had evolved from stardust. While humans had a touch of this magic in them, monsters churned with this fire as their lifeblood. The celestial bodies, their very beginnings, were esteemed with enough reverence to be gods.
Their banishment to the Underground had been especially cruel for this fact, and after such a long separation from the sky, marking their reunion with a new light was more than fitting. After all, when someone’s name was thought with enough intent in so many hearts, a star wasn’t only named; it was born.
It was bright and it was beautiful. When viewed through his telescope, it nestled in a pocket of blue and gold fringed in red, much like the Ring Nebula, only light years from a star they had once named after you.
“i don’t get it,” he admitted to you after the fact. “all i did was make up for somethin’ i did wrong. my motivations weren’t exactly heroic either.”
“Not all knights wear armor, Sir Sans the Star.”
“heh . . . and just what’re you gettin’ at, fair frisk the fart?”
You laughed. “It doesn’t matter why you did it,” you said. “You still did it. You brought back the dead, Sans. You deserve to be thanked for that, don’t you?”
You knew Asriel hadn’t been the one he wanted to resurrect. Even after the members of HEART had disbanded, he delved into the dark in search of Wingdings until his phalanges bled and his magic ran dry. All of you had begged him to relent, Asgore more than anyone. Not until every inch of the Underground’s remains had been scoured did he finally lose hope.
At least now, his brother’s name did not wither from memory like a dream in the morning light. For the first time, he could mourn him freely. He could share memories with those who knew him, find understanding in kindred spirits, and heal.
As one year on the surface came to a close, he finally found the courage to destroy the machine.
The spring sun crisped dewdrops from dandelions as you and Sans strode across his overgrown lawn. The skeleton brothers’ house, a cozy little two story chalet, stood half embedded in the steep hillside behind you. Its stilted, elevated porch overlooked miles of green forest and a babbling river inlet at the knoll’s foot, just as he had remembered. A long road wound atop the hill’s peak, passing from driveway to driveway to outline a comfortably spaced neighborhood. In the distance, Mount Ebott reached among smaller peaks for white clouds in a gold and pink sky.
Under your arms, you each carried a folded mesh lawn chair. Matte black aviator sunglasses masked Sans’ eyes, though a cyan glow smoked behind the left lens. A pair of bright purple shields blocked your own. Following behind in a cloud of blue magic, the rusty, tattered block of a machine he called a “temporal flux manipulator” hovered helplessly a meter off the ground.
A safe distance from the coyote bushes dotting the property line, Sans shook out his chair and tossed it down beside a patch of naked buckwheat. You followed suit and plopped into your seat.
“countdown?” Sans requested.
Before you could start, he had flung the machine unceremoniously upward, nearly thirty feet into the air. At its very peak, he voided his magic. It plummeted into a satisfying cacophonous crash of metal and glass, as if a double decker had smashed into a brick wall.
“Three,” you said.
Two Gaster Blasters materialized over his shoulders.
“Two.”
Their unhinged jaws pooled white-hot energy in their gullets.
“One.”
Those wild-eyed dragon skulls unleashed two furious jets of dangerous magic. The light reflected in your sunglasses. Screams of raging power overwhelmed the once peaceful ambiance of nature. You both watched impassively, but perhaps just a little smugly, as what had once been a marvel of science was pummeled down into a flaming mess.
The blasters dissipated, appeased. Both natural and magical fire burned high like a bonfire in front of you. You popped open a bag of marshmallows. Sans, meanwhile, emptied an old yellow envelope into the flames, then shrugged and tossed in the sleeve as well. Blueprint after blueprint shriveled away to embers, never to be crafted again.
“erase that, ya fat gameboy,” he muttered.
Just as he reclined in his chair, a sputter of laughter spooked him out of it again.
“That was five years of our lives and 20 million G in government funding you just blew up.”
Sans whipped around, eye sockets wide and empty. You followed his gaze. The uncooked marshmallow you had been too impatient to wait for fell from your lips.
A lanky skeleton stood somewhat removed behind your chairs, clinging to a small paper bag and his own wrist. An orange laminate wristband hung above his bony palm, rugged from wear, and another rested alongside it in white. The sleeves of his loose, plum colored button-up had been pushed up to his elbows; the buttons down his torso had been fastened incorrectly, off by one. Something like apprehension and hesitation lit the small lights of his eyes, so similar to Sans’ and yet worlds apart.
Sans’ hand shook audibly as he peeled the sunglasses from his face.
Wingdings looked exactly the same as he had nearly a century ago—no longer melted, his body whole—even if those awful cracks still split his skull. They had been mended, only scars now behind a thin but large pair of lopsided circular glasses. Though he had seemed joyful a moment ago, his smile slowly slipped away.
At his heels, a small white dog panted happily. Far behind, at a bend in the road, a black Lincoln idled in park. Asgore stood leaning on the car door, watching from afar.
“I guess,” Wingdings eased past the silence, “it worked. Kind of. In a roundabout way. Basically, I was right; you were wrong. Congrats to me.” A small smile split his face again and his shoulders twitched upward. “Hooray,” he lilted weakly.
Sans had been creeping cautiously nearer, trembling, tracing that silhouette with the star of his left eye. Only inches apart, he touched the wristbands. The white one listed his name, his species, a mental hospital, and an admittance date—almost nine months ago. The orange band simply stated, “SUPERVISION REQUIRED.”
Sans’ face was wet before he realized why. Every thought and feeling had been swept away until now.
“did you really come all the way from the void,” he hardly breathed, “just to rub it in my face?”
Wingdings stared down at him a long moment before his eyelights circled up into a cinched brow. He shrugged again. “Yes?”
Sans bubbled with laughter then, and Dings bubbled back. Next thing you knew, they were piled in each other's bones on the ground, happy, relieved, home. The Annoying Dog danced joyful doggy circles around them with a wildly flapping tail.
From his vantage point, Asgore smiled with relief and found the resolve to approach.
“Oh, hey,” Wingdings said brightly when he noticed you nearing. “One sec.”
He opened the paper bag and rustled around inside. The sound of pill bottles jostling like rain sticks only distracted you a moment before he surfaced something both considerate and serendipitous. Chocolate. Your favorite. A big, thick bar of the good stuff, the kind that melted in the mouth and made for soft and perfect s’mores. Your mouth salivated as you took the brick into your hands. The two of you were going to get along fine.
“One square at a time,” Asgore instructed you firmly.
You nodded.
“nine months?” Sans lamented playfully, tugging at the band around his brother’s wrist. “i coulda given birth by now. what happened? where were you? why . . .” Joy siphoned out of him. “why didn’t i know?”
At this, the anxious guilt Wingdings had forgotten sprang to life again.
“I’ll explain.” Asgore’s broad shoulders blocked the sun like a monument. His large though gentle voice stilled them all.
“Your majesty, I can . . .”
“I am no longer ‘your majesty,’” the great boss monster interrupted Wingdings with a smile. “I am your friend.”
Dings relented, then, even if he fidgeted with the tags wrapped around his ulna and radius. Sans took his hand hostage.
Shortly before Sans had joined HEART, a small team had discovered Wingdings deep in the remnants of Waterfall. They had nearly given up their search when an annoying white dog barked after them ceaselessly. It led them to a dark alcove behind watery curtains, where Wingdings lay huddled in a corner, confused and nearly starved.
“I was all bone,” Wingdings interjected shyly, but no one smiled.
When he received the call that yet another skeleton had been unearthed, Asgore had raced to meet them almost as fast as he had run to meet you—but what he found was not the reunion he had hoped for. His smart, clever friend had been whittled down to a frightened creature with an ever fracturing hold on reality. With the breaking of the barrier, more than his grip on the rift had slipped loose. His mind had lost its bearings into a whirlwind of relentless psychosis. Excluding his early years in the void, Wingdings could not remember enduring an episode darker than this.
Though warned of Wingdings’ catatonia and incoherency, the king of the underground immediately requested to visit him. He was glad he did. Something about seeing Asgore snapped Wingdings out of his stupor and into a brief moment of clarity, long enough to ask for help . . . and beg for the news not to escape, not even to Sans.
“I didn’t want to be seen like that, marbles all over the floor,” Dings said. “And if I couldn’t be helped, well . . . I thought it would be better to stay forgotten.”
‘i didn’t forget you.” Sans’ grip on his brother’s hand tightened. “i mourned you. i thought you were dead.”
‘I’m sorry.”
“I should have told you, Sans,” said Asgore. “Right away. I was torn . . . and the longer I put it off, the harder it became.”
Sans took measure of his heartache and decided it wasn’t worthwhile to blame them, not now. He had learned to forgive Asriel; he could absolve his brother and Asgore of this one misstep. He let the warmth of that metal bonfire and the sight of Wingdings’ tired face smooth over his soul.
“you don’t gotta apologize,” he sighed. “it sounds . . . scary.”
Windings nodded meagerly, but did not elaborate.
Asgore had placed him in a special care ward under the brightest human and monster minds he could assemble. Thankfully, humans had already researched three years ahead on this front. With their combined understanding of monster and human anatomy, they found a combination of physical and magical treatment that worked enough to stabilize him. The rest relied on therapy.
“I’ll have sessions twice a week,” said Dings. “Asgore already agreed to take me, so if you have reservations . . .”
“reserva—the hell are you talking about?” Sans said. He had gripped his little brother by the shoulders, then, harsh at first but quickly gentle. Tears beaded in his eyes. “you think a little hot water’s gonna scare me off? you’ll be lucky if you get me off your heels!”
“It’s not over,” Windings said shakily. “I’m not cured. Something like this doesn’t just go away. It . . . sleeps.”
Sans deflated, then softly clutched him to his chest. Dings lowered his eyes, melting touch-starved into arms he had once lost hope in feeling.
“i know,” Sans answered calmly. “and when it wakes up you don’t gotta face it solo. you’re not alone in the dark anymore. you’re home.”
Sans inhaled deeply, mercifully, as if he hadn’t truly breathed since the day he lost him. Saying the words aloud had released something inside him like puncturing a balloon. Everything felt pure and new: the weight of his brother in his arms; the scent of him intermingled with the neighbor’s freshly-cut grass; the warmth of his breath amid the late summer sunlight bleaching his skull; the glow of his eyes against the bonfire flickering strange their shadows. Nothing would let him forget this, not even the stars that began to glimmer out of hiding.
“you’re home,” he said again, and this time his voice rattled with joy.
Wingdings held him very tightly then, desperately, and with it Sans knew he shared the sentiment. He smiled truly, deeply, never more whole, and hid it for himself in folds of wine purple cloth.
“you made it.”
The End
Hear me now, hope you're listening It's been centuries, least what it seems to me I've been on this road, my eyes glistenin' Our past don't matter, I'm much stronger And fly much farther, soar overseas Finally, see, I'll keep on climbing Ridin' the lightning and I am sure
At times, I really didn't show What was wrong with me, wrong with me I told myself I cannot grow Without lovin' me, lovin' me But this is just the hell that lives inside Tell me now, where to? Please be my guide
I've been goin', goin' in circles Reoccurring dreams, talkin' in my sleep Then I'm floatin' up to the surface I can finally breathe, I could do anything And I don't know why it's all right And it's not at the same time Then I look up at a blue sky And I know
At times, I really didn't show What was wrong with me, wrong with me I tell myself I cannot grow Without lovin' me, lovin' me This is just the hell that lives inside Tell me now, where to? Please be my guide
"Lovin' Me" - Kid Cudi feat. Phoebe Bridgers
That's it. That's the end. :')
This has been an amazing journey. Thank you, thank you so much for reading through to the end.
I've been considering starting a new fic, a part two so to speak, that follows Wingdings as he reconnects with family and friends and learns to navigate his new life. Plus healing, as well as his mental health and trauma from the void. Maybe romance??? idk. A wholesome slice-of-life thing, much lighter in tone. I have scenes in my head already.
Thank you again. I have a surprise in store, so please don't unsubscribe just yet. ;)
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#undertale#rift#riftfic#ut#undertale fanfic#undertale fanart#chapter 17#epilogue#the end#sans#frisk#wingdings gaster#wd gaster#gaster#asgore#thank you#i can't say that enough#8th anniversary#undertale anniversary
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Re-listened to When I Grow Up from the Matilda musical and it gave me a lot of feelings about late stage TSoT, whenever we get there
#art#my art#doodle#traditional art#sans x reader#the state of things#the state of things fic#tsot fic#tsot spoilers#the state of things spoilers#undertale#undertale fanfic#wd gaster#tsot gaster#frisk undertale#frisk tsot#frolic tsot#reader tsot#heavy spoilers#lyric comic#HI i will refuse to elaborate but that song is also very relevant i think and ill probably draw a proper thing for it in a few years haha
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wd gaster is just the pinnacle of dubiously canon fancharacters
this guy only kinda exists in undertale. he's not even a background character, he's a deleted character. there's precious little information about him, even his name
and yet. the fandom has a solid idea on who he is and how he acts. because we just saw a dude-shaped void and created a dude to fill it! and i happen to think that's great!
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Some fanart I made for the fic Bill’s Story by violetofangst or @thisiswhatafamilyis over here on tumblr. Gosh I love this story SO MUCH. I was NOT expecting the twist at the end.
#undertale#undertale fanart#undertale fanfiction#fanart of a fanfic#wd gaster#floof draws#tiwafi#bills story
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Happy birthday, @floating-in-the-blue
Caleb wasn't sure how he got here, really. Falling for an accountant at a mattress company, of all people. One who didn't care about glitz and glamour, preferred homemade pizza dates to being taken out to expensive restaurants. Who smiled politely at getting a rolex for his birthday but wore the rock Caleb had found on one of their hikes together around his neck because Caleb had said it reminded him of him.
He also didn't know how he ended up with his nephew moving into his house. He'd only paid the boy to show WD how great he was with kids, since the man had a son about Alex' age and he'd really, really wanted to impress him. Alex had shrugged and said Caleb was his favourite Uncle anyway (depressing, considering they saw one another once every two to three years), and he could use the money.
Except Alex and Willie had hit it off, much more than Caleb and his date had at first. Caleb had thrown everything he could at the man, and nothing had seemed to impress him, which was rather infuriating and only made him want to try more.
It wasn't until they both arrived at the police station to pick up their respective troublemakers that the ice truly broke. Caleb had a few days off, so he was unshaven, in his sweats and a tank top, and incredibly cranky to have been called out of bed at five in the morning.
Turns out WD really did just care about who Caleb was as a person. Which included 'grumpy before he had his morning coffee' and 'wearing bunny slippers because he was too tired to find and tie his shoes'.
So when Willie and Alex moved Alex into Caleb's mansion behind Caleb's back while he was on a date with WD, well, it was already too late by the time they came home. Besides, he owed Alex a little, for helping him find the love of his life.
#happy birthday yeo!#aesthetic#julie and the phantoms#willie's dadxcaleb#also we really have to name Willie's dad lol#fanfic#I wrote a thing#I made a thing#willex#yes willie helped his dad with his dating profile and probably made him pose on the bike#yes caleb is very confused because 1) hot guy not impressed and 2) usually people are the one chasing HIM and wanting his attention#sooner or later WD comes to see Caleb's extra side with fondness like he's some kind of eccentric cat#because he realises it really is part of who Caleb is and not just a mask#'yes he pushes things off the table for attention' = 'yes he wears sparkly outfits and sings on stage for attention'#he just smiles indulgently every time Caleb is being extra
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Willem De Schryver is Stan in Assisen (The Insulin Murder)
#sander driesen#robbe x sander#robbe ijzermans#wtfock#sobbe#wtfock fanfic#willem de schryver#belgium#amazing beauty#belgium acteur#belgian#belgio#amazing#wds
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hey y’all, i want to talk about something, as i’ve already seen it being muttered, even after todays turn of events.
content creators, whether they write fics, create art, make gifs, and so on, cannot always ‘fix’ canon.
i mean, canon is canon. end of story. however, there is no harm in creating headcanons and such to shuffle around what’s happened. its a great coping mechanism, and everybody deserves to have that gift when they’re struggling.
but that’s the thing - if you’re struggling to cope, then it probably means your content creators are struggling, too.
i often look at canon and go, “yeah, i know how i could fix this by using fanfiction.” but today? during those turn of events?
there isn’t any fixing that.
at least, not for me. im in mourning. i cannot fix, let alone write anything because my emotions have the best of me.
as much as you might be struggling right now, i can assure you that your content creators are struggling just as much. i sometimes feel this weight on my shoulders because i am expected to right what is wrong. how are any of us meant to grieve whilst that weight is sitting on our shoulders?
if people have the ability to create content based around their angsty and mournful headcanons, then great! but please don’t expect this from everyone.
we content creators have just as much of a right to mourn and wallow as you do. we will provide comfort, angst, love, and more when we can, but sometimes we need to step back, accept what has happened, and mourn it in our own time.
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I'm currently trying to write my own AU with Gaster returning, the writing process is really long but also super cool when you are inspired.
My two goals with this AU is to make Undertale characters as accurate as possible ('cause i'm really tired of all the poorly made representations of Sans is AUs in general xD Even tho I really like the AU Sanses like Dream, Error and all, an actual story with accurate Undertale characters would be great too), and to make Gaster feel like an actual character who could be in Undertale as well, with its own complexity, feelings, intentions and unique relationships with the other characters (Because most of the time when I read comics or fanfictions, he seems a bit too much out of place to be from Undertale, I don't know if you get what I mean, but people tend to not really understand what makes Undertale characters so fun, so when they make Gaster something feels really off)
If I ever make this AU project a reality, I hope I'll be able to do all that, and that some weirdos will like it too x)
#undertale#gaster#undertale gaster#gaster undertale#wd gaster#fanfic writing#if you have some writing tips don't hesitate to give them
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Guardiantale - Masterpost
#guardiantale - This is my au regarding the game Undertale from Tobi Fox.
Presents the story before the events of the game. The story is already written, but I am slowly translating it into English. Chapters will appear every Saturday at 6pm.
"Katharina is an ordinary girl who is very stubborn. She always pursues her goal. Anyone who knows her can tell that she is very persistent. But this trait is not always a good thing. Kath found this out the hard way when she fell into the Underworld. From now on, she will have to somehow survive in a place full of monsters that have no sympathy for humans. Will she be able to survive in this place? Or will one of the monsters get their way and give her soul to the king?"
List of chapter:
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Epilogue
Blue indicates that the chapters have not yet been translated.
#undertale fanfic#undertale sans#undertale oc#undertale fandom#undertale#undertale au#sans#asgore#papyrus#undertale papyrus#undertale alphys#undertale undyne#undertale gaster#undertale grillby#grillby#wd gaster#undertale fanfiction#guardiantale
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so!! i am thrilled to be able to shared the next chapter of war drums! thank you so much to everyone who has supported me over the past few difficult years and expressed enthusiasm for the story. it means the world to me. please enjoy!!
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IM SO INCREDIBLY NORMAL ABOUT THEM
#IF YOU WANT TO MAKE GASTER um... watch JaruJaru's new video he did it there lol#and i vaguely followed it because i just wanted to see him#AND NOW I HAVE THEM BOTH AHAHAHA#this is just encouraging me to do fanfics for them i have so many ideas yes yes#minecraft herobrine#gaster#wd gaster#they are my boys and i love them so much and they get to be here together teehee#you can't combine them though i immediately tried that :(#herobrine#undertale gaster
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#wonderful designs#wd#wonderfuldesigns#spirit fanfics#social spirit#capa de fanfic#capa de anime#capa social spirit#spirit fanfiction#mubroom#spirit fanfic#spirit#capa para spirit#capa clean#capa para fanfic#capa simples#design simples#design clean#violet evergarden
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sans and Papyrus
There was a man named Mr. WD was a scientist He have won many awards
The first son to be born was the sans; he was strong and able to think quickly on his feet. Mr . WD decided will be his assistant At the age of seven, Mr. WD is definitely a believer in tough love He often scolded his son for his mistakes and made him work hard to make up for them. He was strict but fair, and Sans respected him. Sans eventually grew up to become a successful scientist in his own right. for little while
————-
After about two years, Papyrus was born. Papyrus was strong, but not at the same level as Assans, who was 7% stronger than him. Mr. WD determined that he would be taught to fight and be a member of the Royal Guard. Mr. WD designed a papyrus training course for us to practice, build reflexes, and acquire survival skills. Anyone who is trained, Papyrus is an instant death sentence that targets political prisoners and monsters. These monsters were informed that all they had to do was live to be set free, while Papyrus was assured that he could return to his dormitory to relax after he had slaughtered them all.
Mr. WD
Mr. WD was a very smart man. He thought of himself as remarkably brilliant
He have dreams about someday ruling the entirety of the underground, tearing up the political system, and resorting to the war on humanity with any method possible to meet his goals After he built the omega core, or alpha core, he planned to take over the underground and get rid of the royal family
Papyrus attempted to stop him and persuade him that he was primarily doing it because he was concerned about his older brother being harmed and the resultant war, but he couldn't, so he increased the difficulty of his training by bringing in dangerous criminals, criminals who were stronger than Papyrus himself. Papyrus, of course, was critically injured. Tell Mr. WD, "Don't disagree with me again, son." “This is what happened when you disagreed with me.” Sans was furious when he learnt about it, but he couldn't do anything right now. He needs to pick the proper moment to expose him and let him finish him off. Sans had to devise a strategy and carry it out perfectly. He couldn't risk making a mistake. He needed to ensure that his strategy was failsafe. Alphys one to have the capacity to marry forever in the future. She once attempted to convince the king to let her do this by stating she can develop a cloning machine to solely clone otter monsters, so she decided to check if Order could assist her, and she discovered Sans decided to help if she could help him. deal with Mr WD After exposing Mr. WD and his plans, the king decide to progressively except and allow (alphys) to marry undying
Frisk the protagonist
Her parents were politicians Do you plan on exposing a corrupt politician for money laundering and more crimes but before they can even get ready to tell the people the truth, the corrupt politician heard about it and prevented them from telling anyone by having them assassinated? Then the corrupt politician makes sure to buy the best lawyers money could buy in to make sure to get rid of any evidence When the correct politician saw Frisk, she immediately made sure that she would forget this. He grabbed a random tool and hit her multiple times in the head, giving her a slight brain damage
Making it hard for her to remember full details on what happened to her parents During the Corrupt politician sent her to a mental institution After a while, she was saying to live with an uncle who barely cared about his niece She is slightly masochistic One day she decided to wander around the area; the uncle wasn’t really paying attention nor did he care She received her high school bag for your goods, while she got a paper knife and some disgusting bandages.
Queen Toriel and prince Azriel [The flower]
Toriel's is a relatively laid-back queen who respects high-ranking members of her court, despite her appointed job as an enforcer and arbiter of monster society. Toriel has a reputation for compassion and forgiveness. Toriel's attitude appears to have altered dramatically in the years since Chara's death. She had a lengthy condition of sadness and melancholy. She cannot let go of the past.
Azriel is pampered; he may be considered antisocial psychopath shit. Azriel is vengeful and quick to rage. When his followers contacted him and the mission failed, he was highly irritated but will provide them many opportunities to redeem themselves. Azriel is revealed to have a direct and "down-to-business" attitude about taking
The flower
in this world, it is submit or be submitted upon; this is an undeniable truth He is helping you because you remind him of his dearest adopted sibling
King Asgore
Asgore is a logical and rational leader and can be described as being difficult and has a temper that can take a while to cool down; he appeared both calm and understanding at first. He has a dangerous and lethal temper, treating an act of disrespect against himself. Asgore is cold and calculating with very little in terms of emotion. The things that altered his stoic attitude are his family, Frisk and his temper
The Dreemurr
A long time ago, Chara fell down for not-so-pleasant reasons. Toriel and Azriel saw chara come down to the underground and decided to secretly take care of her At first, Azriel didn’t want to trust her but overtime he learned how to see them as his own sibling Toriel and Azriel eventually accepted Frisk as a member of the family. She became a close friend and companion to both of them. They shared many adventures and laughs together. Asgore did not like humanity They were the reason why the entire monster race had to be forced down underground. On one foetal day, he found and saw Chara before Chara had a speech prepared Chara was different from all the other monsters. She was able to talk to and understand humans, and Asgore saw this as a sign of hope. He and Chara became close friends, and Asgore decided to let her live. Before Asgore could do anything to the human child. Toriel, ask him, “Do not harm the human child, please.”
Asgore: how you regard mankind, and you have four alternatives to choose from. Option one suggests you view them as a helpful person. Option two: You perceive them as foolish people and compel us to believe that you just see them as welfare leeches collecting their free monthly cheque.
Chara: I choose the fourth option, but if they look like me, can I keep them?
Asgore: That’s good enough for me. Welcome to the family adopted child.
alphys
She is the top royal scientist; she obsesses with repairing weak monsters or creatures that require development. Alphys chopped off a monster's wounded limb and replaced it with a mechanical replica by etching magical symbols onto their body that provide strength and increased speed. While the monsters were awake, the anguish was so intense that they passed out from screaming and entirely overlooked their actual nature in the end. Her victims were sometimes left in horrifyingly twisted and unrecognisable shapes, with many being chopped in pieces. She's obsessed with superheroes and manga. She often dressed up as her favourite characters
Undyne
Undyne is the Lieutenant of the Royal Guard and the only one who works hard for it. She has unrestrained strength and accidently destroys things. She appears cool on the surface, yet she is emotional on the inside. She handles mechanical duties and can play a violin. Undyne broke her violin by gripping them Undyne has been provided a custom-made violin made of steel from alphys
Grillby and Muffet
Muffet's is an arms dealer; she doesn't talk much; Muffet also provides weed, food, and alcohol; and she also owns a nightclub for "entertainment.” She is known to be generous to those she cares about. She is also known to have a sarcastic sense of humour.
Grillby supplied meals. They also provide medical care for monsters in need. He is also good buddies with Sans and Papyrus. He is typically seen smiling and exudes a relaxing vibe. He operates a buffet in Snowden and sells quick food and cans his salty pretzels and creamy coffee, which are handcrafted and expensive and cost $10.99 G for one pretzel and $12.07 for one creamy coffee.
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