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osleeplessflowero · 1 month

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Okay! I may have forgotten but I don't think you've done Underfell Papyrus yet? I'm curious how you would interpret him as a lot of people seem to make him very one note.

Could you do a First Impressions thing? Can the Reader be female as well? Up to you if this takes place on the surface or if Reader fell into the Underground. (Bonus points if you feel like including or just referencing Doomfanger!)

i have written him briefly before, but i am more than happy to write edge content again!! i love him dearly <3 thank you for your request! 🌸

🛍️First Meeting🖤

It's a warm, sunny morning. Barely any clouds are visible in the sky as a car comes to a stop, finding the perfect spot in a mall's parking lot. The moment the car stops, a child opens one of the back doors, sliding out and holding out their arms so a cat can jump into them. A skeleton closes the door beside the driver's seat, pushing up sharp shades over his eyesockets.

"Alright, Human, Listen To Me Carefully." He kneels down to be at eye level with the child. The two had gotten much closer when the monsters had finally surfaced two years ago, Frisk having found themself spending a lot more time with the skeleton brothers they'd grown fond of.

"This Is A Large Place Full Of Unfamiliar Figures. We Are Here To Pick Out Furniture That Doomfanger Herself Prefers, So I Am Tasking You With Keeping A Close Eye On Her. You Know Well How She Likes To Run Off, So I Am Entrusting You With Watching Over Her. Can You Do That?"

They nod eagerly, holding the fluffy cat in their arms happily.

"Very Good. Now, Let Us Head Inside, Hmm?" He smiles, standing back up and beginning to walk, Frisk following close by. "Do Not Walk Through Here Without Being Careful. There Are Lunatics Out Here." He narrows his hidden eyesockets and leans his hand down so they can hold it to ensure their safety, Frisk shifting Doomfanger to their other arm as they do.

"I'd Have Asked My Bonehead Brother To Watch Her, But..Well..He Worked Hard Yesterday. I'll Let Him Rest For Today. He Needs It, This Time." He holds the door open for them, letting them walk in first before following close behind.

They sign something to him, making him let out a cackle.

After a few minutes, they manage to find the store they're looking for. The skeleton carefully takes Doomfanger from Frisk's arms, holding her up to one of the taller shelves.

"Alright, Which Of These Do You Prefer, Little Miss?" He waits patiently until the cat baps one of the various beds that she likes best, nodding in agreement and putting it in a shopping cart.

Frisk gestures a silent chuckle, looking over some cutesy cat sticker sheets nearby. They look from left to right before taking a sheet out of their backpack, slapping a heart sticker on one of the shelves before rejoining him.

"Hold Her For A Moment, I Believe I Saw The Collars Over There..I Will Be Right Back. Stay Put."

They nod in agreement, a determined look on their face as they hold the cat that's currently trying to escape their hold. Once he's walked off, they shift their focus to some squeaky toys with funny jokes written on them, ones they think Sans would appreciate if he were present. They take out their phone and send some pictures to him for later, including one of them holding Doomfanger and making a silly face.

While temporarily distracted, the cat takes this opportunity to leap out of their hold, resulting in an almost silent gasp as they run to chase her down.

"Alright, I've Found An Exa- OH MY STARS WHERE DID MY CHILD GO-" He looks around hurriedly before seeing their silhouette running out of the store, sitting the cart aside and running after them.

The child darts across the hall, chasing after the cat that's rapidly speeding away into a clothing store. They look around worriedly once they lose sight of her, scanning the aisles before spotting her nuzzling against someone's leg.

You kneel down to pet the random, cute cat. "Oh my goodness, you're so soft! Your owner must be worried sick about you."

Frisk runs over, catching their breath.

"Oh, hello, is this cat yours sweetheart?" You ask, holding her in your arms.

They nod quickly, holding out their arms as you place her back in them.

"I'm guessing she ran away from you?"

Another nod.

"Well, it's a good thing she's in safe hands now." You smile. They feel a little more reassured, but then start to panic. They ran off, and they don't know this mall that well! What if they can't find Papyrus? What if they're lost?

Tears prick at the corners of their eyes as you hurry over to them, kneeling to be at eye level.

"What's wrong, dear?" You frown, reaching up to wipe their tears away.

They quickly sign: 'I'm lost, I need to find my guardian, I ran away from him trying to catch her. I don't remember the way back.'

"Oh.." You look around. "What store was he in? I can show you where it is."

They perk up at that. 'It was a pet store. It had a lot of stickers.'

"I think I know which one you're talking about! Yeah..I can show you the way. Would you like to hold my hand? You can stay with me until we find him. I wouldn't trust anybody else around here." You narrow your eyes, holding your hand out. They take it gratefully, following close behind as you lead the way back to the store. You're about halfway there when you see a tall figure running towards you, coming to a stop when he sees Frisk at your side.

"Oh, Thank The Stars, You're Alright-" He lets out a sigh of relief, kneeling as they rush over. "Don't Run Off Where I Can't See You! It..Worries Me."

Tears prick at the corners of their eyes again as they hold Doomfanger close. 'I'm sorry. She ran away.'

He lets out a quiet sigh, reaching up to wipe their tears away with his gloved hands. "I'm Not Angry At You. Just Please Be More Careful, Next Time."

They nod, reaching their arms up. He picks them up with relative ease, now turning to you. You smile once you're acknowledged, the same expression having been on your face the entire time.

"..I..Thank You For Taking Care Of Them, Miss. If Something Had Happened To Them, I Do Not Know What I Might Have Done."

"Oh, of course. I'd hate for something to have happened.. it's a good thing they found me and not somebody with more sinister intentions. I'm glad they're safe with someone they trust now." You hold your hands together in front of yourself.

"Yes..Precisely." He clears his throat. "I Would Like To Somehow Compensate You As Thanks For Watching Over Them. Anything You Need."

"Oh, I couldn't possibly-"

"I Insist."

You think for a moment. "..How about..we go get coffee together? There's a place for it just a bit away from here. We can get something for them, too."

"Hmm. This Will Suffice. Does That Sound Good To You?" He turns to Frisk, who nods excitedly in response. "Very Well, I Will Return To Make My Purchases And..Meet You Back Here?"

"Sounds good to me. Ah, I forgot to introduce myself- my name's.." You properly introduce yourself to the skeleton.

"I Am Papyrus, The Great Papyrus. It's Been A Pleasure To Meet You, Miss." He grins, a sharp-toothed smile.

Soon after the both of you get your shopping done and move your things to your respective vehicles, you go to get coffee together (and a sweet drink for Frisk). You've found that he is very specific with his coffee tastes, something you can understand. He's quite witty, despite his intimidating appearance. And from what you can tell, he's..pretty good with kids, too.

Papyrus was..a bit wary of you at first, but still appreciative that you took care of Frisk when he could not. He makes a mental note to watch over them better, to ensure this sort of thing doesn't happen again. Your kindness truly shines through, a warm atmosphere surrounding you right off the bat. By the end of the interaction, he grows to respect you.

"This was really fun, it was super nice meeting you both." You smile as you walk beside the two, looking between them.

Frisk gives him a nudge. "..Likewise, Your Company Was Pleasant."

"Maybe we'll see each other again sometime. That could be fun."

Frisk grins, perking up and walking over. You kneel to be at eye level as they hand you some stickers, a sign that they like you.

"How cute- thank you."

They smile as you pat their head, walking back over to their skeleton guardian.

"It Is Getting Rather Late, I'm Afraid We Must Bid You Farewell, Miss."

"Maybe I'll see you both around." You smile, waving at Frisk as the two walk out. You begin to walk out as well, halting when you feel something fall out of your pocket, picking it up and raising a brow at it.

Frisk has a bit of a skip to their step, leading Papyrus to where he had parked previously, him being a little surprised that they remember.

Once they get in the car, he looks at them via the mirror. "What Are You So Excited About, Hmm?"

They sign where he can see with a smug grin. 'I gave her your number.'

"You SLIPPERY SNAKE! I Must Admire Your Stealth Skills.."

They gesture silent laughter, petting Doomfanger, who lies comfortably in their lap as they begin the drive back home.

#sleeplessflower's drabbles #underfell papyrus x reader #underfell papyrus x female reader

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hearteyes-for-killmonger · 2 years

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Blindfold Me: The Party

Part 2. After all that, y'all still have the Halloween Party. Kinktober submission @nahimjustfeelingit-writes

Pairing: Erik x Reader

Tags: Smut, Size Kink, Exhibitionism, Roleplay, Queening, Knife-play

An idea strikes from nowhere and who's gonna stop you? Erik? He isn't thinking about you in particular, he's driving you back to the Cheesecake Factory parking lot so you can drive your car and follow him home. He's very cute in his absentmindedness. He's watching the road and doesn't notice you watching the minor things he does, those tiny habits that are sexy for no reason. It's the way he leans driving one-handed with his other elbow in the window. It gives you the space to fish Lil Erik Jr out and frisk him, make him feel real nice before you choke him. Big Erik likes that, but there's something you haven't tried.. another way to pleasure Big E and torture Lil E. You sauce-board him. Erik jumps in his seat, but he can launder his pants. He's changing clothes at home anyway. You dip the head of his penis in cilantro sauce, swirling it around the rim of the plastic cup and sucking it off with a pop, chasing it with a bite of samosa, amused at his face, like he's traumatized.

"You fuckin booger, my dick is not a samosa."

You put them side by side. "Could've fooled me.. the samosa bigger."

"I hope they have good music at this party. I'm a kick Meech's ass when we get there."

He switches hands on the wheel, swatting out like a parent which leads to you both slapboxing with him mushing and grabbing your face, fake choking you while you pop his arm and pinch him. He knows he's not small. You know he's not small.

When you get in your own car, you call him.

"You need music for that?"

"My theme music. Every queen deserves her own theme music."

"I hope he didn't cheap on liquor. If so we need to pre-game."

"Let's pre-game," you agree, getting another masterful idea for a cocktail. He grabs your arms in the doorway of the house before you can close the door and pulls them behind your back, cuffing them quickly. "Erik," you stare from over your shoulder and back at the neighbors' houses across the street. "Be real. It's still broad daylight and families live here." They always walk and sit out on porches.

He bends you over and pushes your dress up, hooking his knuckles in the seat of your panties and pushing the head of his dick against your opening. No one's outside but they could still be watching through windows.

"Dave has a ring camera," you gasp as he holds your weight up by your throat with two hands. Your feet spread for balance as he pushes inside, spreading your walls apart with his width.

"It's fine," he whispers.

"Fuck, daddy." His pumps stay shallow teasing those nerves just inside the entrance that trigger your lazy eye. "He's gonna see this," you sigh picturing the footage in his hands as Erik slides deeper, your walls hugging him tight. "We can't do this out here."

"It's fine. He'll jack off and not say shit, watch." He slides back and squishes in again as a car drives by.

"Erik!" Your ass hits his stomach.

"Oh, that turn you on? Nasty bitch. That pussy getting wetter."

With arms tied behind you, you moan as he bounces you up and down his length, your kitty suctioning him and squishing with every stroke. Another car drives by, a neighbor further down and you hope they don't call the police.

"Move ya hips, like a lil neighborhood porn star slut. Fuck me."

His hands still grip your neck for leverage. You swivel your hips as he digs in your gut, moving one hand under your dress to rub your clit.

"Now everyone gonna know how we get down," he says in your ear. "Lil slut bitch and her daddy. You happy?" His full lips rest on your ear, his dick filling you completely. "You a happy lil slut?" He hisses and groans, stroking your nub. "It's ok, tell me."

"Fuck, yes daddy..," you moan biting your lip and feeling full, your kitty squeezing as you concentrate on keeping your balance. "Oh god don't stop don't stop, it's right there," you pant.

"Don't cum. Don't you cum, baby.. Hold it in.. Hold it in, baby.."

"Fuhuuck!" You laugh trying to hold it as it attempts to burst free. He stops rubbing but keeps giving those deep strokes.

"Yeah baby? Hold it for me. You like this dick? You like it?"

"I love it, daddy, can I cum?"

"Good lil slut, not yet," he squeezes your neck. You don't want him to stop but if he doesn't-

"Shit. I'm reaching my Iimit."

"My dick small?" He thrusts into you. "Tell me how small that dick is baby."

You look back and up at him as he chokes you and you laugh still impaled and panting. You knew he'd get you back. He's 9 inches. 9 delicious beefy inches and each one is hiked up your pulsing sopping wet pussy. "I'm gonna cum.. I'm gonna cum.."

"Answer me," he growls, rubbing you again.

"Fuck. Big, daddy. Your dick is so big and juicy in that tight lil pussy, shit. Please can I cum?"

"Cum..," he hums in approval. "Wet ass pussy. That's a good girl." His fingers go straight in your mouth rubbing on your tongue. "You gonna be a good lil girl for me, baby?"

"Yes, daddy." you nod.

"Shut the door. No, you gonna be baaad tonight. At the party. Daddy like his lil bitch wicked. Now get on your knees and taste that mess you made on this big dick." He moans as you kiss up his shaft and lick it. "Put it in ya mouth. Eat this dick up."

You suck the first three inches, salivating and licking up the spit that drips down his shaft, spitting it back on the top and pushing it with your mouth. "Cum in my mouth," you direct watching him bite his lip as you keep sucking for your own pleasure.

"You want me to cum, baby?"

"Mm," your lashes bat.

"Mm. You deserve a lil candy for Halloween. Go head, suck that cum out my dick."

You suck until it it spits back, leaking semen and you suck some more, swallowing and licking his tip until he pulls it away and kisses you sweetly on the lips. He removes the cuffs and you stretch your arms.

"Pre-game," he whispers leading the way into the kitchen. You both need to change clothes, but there's time. You have hours.

"Pregame!" You sit two shot glasses on the counter and mix coconut rum, melon liqueur, pineapple juice, and grenadine while he watches intrigued. You shake it in a tumbler with ice and pour it into the glasses. "It's called a lick my pussy," you smirk raising your glass. His brow raises as you toss it back.

"Bet," he sucks his fingers, the same ones that were on your clit. "Tastes so fuckin good," moans chasing with the shot. It makes your pussy twitch again.

"Boy go get the plant and the grass seed out the trunk!"

"Fine," he laughs heading out. "Pour me another shot I'm tryna be fucked up tonight."

You wait until he gets back to ask, "How we gonna get back if both of us drunk because I'm a be fall off the bone drunk."

"I'll schedule a ride now and we'll be ready to leave at.. what time you think, 12:30ish?"

"Party starts at at 9. That works for me." You raise your glass toasting his that still sits on the table in a clink and tossing it back. Once the safety car is booked, he takes his shot too. "I can't get too drunk before I do my makeup, I'm a look like shit. One more," you pour it up taking it up with you to shower, do your skin routine once more, and start your Akasha makeup with Renaissance on shuffle. It's about the smooth buttery glowing skin with no imperfections. You go full coverage. You build your smoky eye and use your Fenty Trophy Wife for the bright golden highlight, a whiter highlight in your eye corner. Akasha's signature eyebrow and eyeliner combo is done with black eyeliner pen and perfected with gel liner on a thin brush. You put on your fake fangs and take your shot before applying lipstick. Erik uses the shower while your stuff is all over the sink. The lips require contouring and a coral liner/lipstick overlapped with a rosy gloss. You switch wigs to a sleek long and black glueless unit and cover the hairline with Akasha's crown.

Erik stinks up the bathroom taking a shit so you wiggle past his knees leaving your mess of makeup and brushes on the sink. You put on your costume and spray yourself with body oil and highlighting mist. You've nailed the look, you even move your arms like Akasha in the bedroom mirror.

"I can’t help being a gorgeous fiend. It’s just the card I drew," you respond to his stare.

Erik is impressed but you wave him off with a lie that he smells like shit. "Why'd you wait until after you showered to shit.. you stanky ass boy."

"Can't help when nature calls."

You watch as he turns himself into a loc'd version of a vampire killer in a black bulletproof vest with silver colored clasps in front and black pants, already looking fine. You want to bite him as he pulls on a long leather Matrix jacket with matching gloves. His cosplay elevates with a black clasp belt, black sunglasses, and clunky punk boots. Thanks to Dave, he's got his hands on a sexy long saber that he waves around like he thinks he's on a movie set. A very sexy sleek sword.

"Ok stop playing with your sword," you smirk, "And let's go get another drink. I know just the one." You grab two small glasses and pour ice, crown royal vanilla, and a can of cherry coke between both. "I don't care how good this party is, it would've been better with me bartending, he don't know I'm that bitch. You better tell him."

Erik sighs, "Aye.. you still got that..???" His brow raises. "That peach cobbler.."

"Oh hell yeah," you run back up the stairs to grab that lube you both like. It was an amazing find. You grab the fake blood while you're at it. Maybe you'll find a use for it.

Meech's house is decorated tastefully like he had help from a woman with style which makes you and Erik wonder what woman he had to do it because he needs to keep her around. It's a red and black vibe with a fog machine, everything you wanted as a child for Halloween but now y'all grown enough to create it yourselves. Erik presents the alcohol the two of you decided to bring as a contribution. You set up a counter of shots with Grateful Dead shots for people to grab at will. It's a 90s rnb, 00s hits, and 10s hip-hop and rnb playlist that has everyone dancing and having a good time.

In the kitchen there's the real soul food: pans of chicken wingettes, ribs, fried catfish, potato salad, 2 pans of mac n cheese, collards, and salad. Erik looks at you and starts to build a plate of everything. You grab two forks. "Uh uh fix your own plate," he holds it away.

"I am Akasha, Queen of the Damned," you say channeling Aaliyah's voice in the movie. He looks visibly turned on and offers you the plate. You make him hold it for you. "You're my little simp tonight." You make him feed you until you take over and feed him back with your fork. Then you both take decide to dance and socialize on your own, meeting up organically.

Meech has a game where everyone has to complete the lyrics to a song or take a dare which is either tossing back a shot, taking a shot off someone's body, or taking a shot of hot sauce. It's fun to watch no matter what the punishment. You don't know the words to Juice WRLD Lucid Dreams or Future Life is good so you drink shots out of Erik's belly button as he giggles and grabs your head like you're finna give him head. You and him know he's serious, but the party think he playing. You snatch his face in your hand and whisper. "Play nice."

He bites at you and your eyebrow arches. He smells like alcohol. You see his fangs. He couldn't give up his grills for the white fangs like you have. Gangsta ass Blade. Sexy mothafucka. You release him ready to find a place more private. "Meet me upstairs," you whisper not asking for permission but sneaking upstairs in Meech's house to his bedroom and throwing his unfolded clothes on the floor to free his unmade bed. Erik appears minutes later holding up the doorframe.

"Looks like it's open season on suckheads. I'll give you something to suck."

You dance to him like Akasha. He draws his sword from his back and you lick your fangs interested to know what he plans on doing with it. How will he defeat you? He's got something in mind. He's been proving himself to be a lot of fun. Not vanilla, but French vanilla with some cinnamon and nutmeg. He raises the sword like he's about to slay you but you raise a clawed hand and he halts dropping the sword. You smirk and reach for it but he kicks it up and grabs it swishing it through the air with you frozen wide-eyed. All you know is he'd better not make a mistake. You wonder how far he'll take it ready to match him.

The sword comes to your neck and your eyes dare him to push it further, deeper into your skin. He takes that challenge to your surprise. The sharp edge digs into your neck near your jugular and you keep your chin raised standing extremely still, your heart suddenly pounding and skin growing goosebumps as you feel something drip and look down. Blood. "There are worse things out tonight than vampires," he whispers in your ear.

"Like what."

"Like me. He licks the blood off the blade and scrapes the edge across the skin of your neck, like a razor. You run your fingers over his bulletproof vest as the blade scratches at your skin like fingernails, down your neck and across your shoulders. When it drags down your breastplate you grab his head and bite into his neck so the sword drops again.

He growls from deep within as your teeth sink into his shoulder next, breaking skin and leaving indentations. Your tongue soothes the bites and you suck leaving behind a bruise. He moans grabbing a fist of your hair at the base of your neck.

"You fuckin bit me.."

"So bite back," you hiss pushing him back. You walk to the bed and beckon him to you. "Now. Come my love. I'll show you how to feasst."

He licks his full lips on the same kinda time you’re on and starts to approach. Your raised hand stops him and he growls once more, impatient.

"Down. Crawl and commme to me," you gaze watching him sink to his knees and seductively crawl as if he's your slave. "You'll do annything for me.." He bites his bottom lip. "Hungry, my love? Get up."

You throw him on the bed and turn him so his head hangs off. You raise your skirt and drop it over his head like a curtain while you grind and bounce on his face like a dick.

"Taste," you command as his face becomes a throne. You feel his tongue at work stroking and flicking, his arms at his side as you smother him with kitty and thighs. "This is the rightful order."

When his tongue flicks your starfish you count it as an accident but he does it again. You don't call it out, but you hear him groan as you press and rub your kitty and your starfish on his tongue, lips, and nose.

"It's juicy?"

His fingers finally dig into your hips and you give him a little air sinking right back down to drown him some more.

"Drink that cum," you order as you squirt on his face covering it in a rush of sticky nectar. He sucks on your clit and you hold down his arms. "Keep eating." You roll your hips and raise up once more hearing his gasp before you smother him again. You give him a face full of booty and let him toss your salad, switching back to the kitty. He'll lick whatever you give him right now. "Take that dick out," you tell him in the meantime. He gets it done fairly quickly. You take your shoes and straddle his hips on the bed in a squat but fall on him. The liquor. At least you have the peach lube it helps you glide. You get on your knees instead and ride reaching out for the bed frame to stabilize yourself. He's in another world as you fuck him with the slippery lube, the peach smell in the air. You slide back up to sit on his face with all your juices wetting his neck. They were starting to dry down on him. He acts like he's eating actual peach cobbler. "Lick me up. Tell me how I taste."

"Delicious," he says deliriously when you hop back on his dick. "Fuckin demon."

You grin. "Come on, say it again. I'm a perfect devil. Tell me how bad I am. It makes me feel so good!"

"Nasty bitch," he pants as you jump on his dick until he cums hard inside of you. You push it out and suck it off his dick as he twitches. "You bit me," he sighs with a grin showing those sexy grills.

"You cut me," you remind him touching your neck.

"Do you feel a cut? I used your fake blood."

"Well," you scramble. "Oh well."

"I liked it," he admits.

You look around the room and get up to grab a random lighter that's on the nightstand. "Let's keep this," you flick it lighting the flame. "For memories since we probably won't remember in the morning. "

"Bad girl," he teases. "I'll remember."

"Right." He drank more than you and you'd been drinking. You take the lighter and pull him up forcing him to return downstairs before you so it's not obvious. You go minutes later and find him to dance. You grind him in the dim light, your hips twisting as his move behind you. They call the costume contest and the both of you win first place which gets y'all a goody bag with a big thick fluffy brownie.

"Split it tomorrow," he suggests. There are enough snacks to eat at the party, but it's after midnight. You follow Erik outside to meet the car that's coming to pick y'all up when it comes. Erik holds you and lifts the back of your skirt to put his dick in you once more but there are people directly beside you and you quickly pull your skirt back down before he can get his dick out. You grab his face again. "Play nice." His kink is serious. He loves being watched.

By the time you both make it back home, he's ready to fuck some more pulling you to the kitchen floor but he falls asleep on top of you and you're too tired to move. You wake up to daytime and he's gone. When you call to ask where in the house he is he says "At work."

"Why you ain't wake me up," you fuss feeling a monster headache. "You'd already called out but you thought he had too. "You didn't even say you were leaving. Why you hungover at work?!"

"I don't feel bad at all. Granny's hangover tonic. Works every time. I left you some on the stove."

"I don't understand how you can work. You probably don't remember half of last night. You were so drunk you ate my ass."

"You wanted to try it didn't you?."

"Oh." He did remember.

"When I get home I expect God tier head. With the Akasha cosplay."

"You getting a little too zesty for your own good ain't you," you tease.

"You the one wanted me to be more open with my kinks. You saying you can't keep up?"

"A lot of talk," you grin. "I will make you forget your name don't play with me.

"I don't wanna wait, come fuck me," he whispers. New Erik has a strong public sex kink that makes you clench. You get off the floor to put yourself together.

@ogbritbrat @dashhoney25 @lettidarawest @soufcakmistress @ljstraightnochaser @princessstevens @eye-raq @thiccdaddy-mbaku @destinio1 @iamrheaspeaks @hidden-treasures21 @bidibidibombaclaat @forbeautyandlife @blowmymbackout @misspooh @thotyana-in-this-hoe @localtrapgod @purplehairgawdess @thegucciwaffle @miyuhpapayuh @nobodybaby93 @theegoldenchild @goddessofthundathighs @cecereads209

#original #erik killmonger #killmonger #killmonger smut #erik killmonger fanfiction #black panther killmonger #black panther fanfiction #erik x reader

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saviorbook · 1 year

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Tears

To angst or not to angst? That t'was the question for day three of @fransweek. Luckily, I'm indecisive.

The rain was pounding in Waterfall. Each drop was large and fast. It didn’t really matter to the two guards that could be seen sparring, though. Alphys wasn’t going easy and could be heard yelling at Sans, telling him to move faster, to be stronger. Sans was silent, calculating each of her moves, his own attacks moving at speeds that were difficult to register. Neither of them were willing to give up the fight until a cold wind blew through the Underground, causing Alphys to stumble back.

“you okay al?” Sans had stopped his assault and held out a gloved hand.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Weather must be pretty rough in Snowdin today, huh?” She slung her ax over her back and walked towards him.

“eh, it’s not the prettiest of sights. we’ve got a bad blizzard that’s been brewing. gonna head back to hotland?” He tilted his head to the side.

“You better believe it! I still don’t understand how you and Papyrus can stand living in that cold.” Sans shrugged and gestured to his skull.

“if i had to guess, i’d say it’s the lack of skin.” Alphys rolled her eyes before giving a curt goodbye a jogging away.

This left Sans to his thoughts, a thing he didn’t like being alone with. He thought about the past four years, how much everything had changed. Yet, it felt like nothing had changed. Everyone managed to grieve and reconcile with their feelings over losing two members of the royal family so easily. He didn’t understand why he couldn’t do the same, but he also didn’t know why the thought surprised him.

He had fallen in love with the princess. Of course, he couldn’t just move on. Too bad the only people that seemed to understand that, were also at odds with each other. He shook his head as he opened his front door.

“hey papyrus, i’m home!” He rolled his eyelights when he didn’t get a response.

Papyrus was either at Muffet’s getting wasted or was ignoring him, like usual. He didn’t really care too much as he climbed the stairs to his room and plopped on his mattress. He turned his head to the side and looked at a framed picture of Frisk and him. She was standing over him while was holding the camera, and they were both smiling like giant dorks. He propped himself up on one elbow and brushed away a tear that had trailed its way down his face. Man, he missed her.

“you know, i always liked this picture the best. it was so easy to get a genuine smile out of you but nearly impossible to capture it.” He chuckled to himself and held up the picture.

“i remember this picture specifically, because you tried rip it out of my hands. luckily, i happen to know that me having it means that you wanted me to keep it. with how determined you are-” His voice broke as he put the picture down.

“with how determined you were… with how determined you were.” He sat up in his bed as the tears began to flow more heavily.

“you know, it’s been four years since you died. it’s still pretty hard for me to believe. with your soul, i didn’t think it was possible. i really didn’t want to be proven wrong. joke’s on me, huh?” His head hung low as stared at his clenched fists.

Sans was startled when his phone rang, notifying him that one of his traps had been triggered. It was trap 2b; it was one of the harder ones to clear, but not a common one to be signaled. He looked up at his ceiling, praying to the stars that this wasn’t another snow drake incident, but he also didn’t really want it to be the last human either.

As he approached the trap, he could hear a menagerie of very loud cursing coming from the area.

“hey, do you mind keeping the profanities to a minimum? there are kids that play around here.” As he stepped around a bush, he paused to see if he could tell who it was he had accidentally captured.

“Get me out of here, and I’ll think about it!” Well, he had never heard that voice before, but he obliged.

“Thank you! Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m looking for a way out of here! I didn’t mean to fall into the stupid hole, and I just want to go home.” Great, it was the last human soul that was needed, and they were not dressed for the blizzard that was halfway up their shins.

“if you stay out here much longer, you’ll catch hypothermia. i’ll take you to my home where we can wait out the storm, and i can tell you how you’re not getting home. you’ll want to be sitting for that, by the way.” He held out his hand to the human as their stomach grumbled.

“I don’t need your help, and I can get out of here. The ghost lady told me how. I’ll admit, it doesn’t sound like something that would work, but she said it would.” Sans took a step back.

“okay. one, i helped you out of the trap; you obviously need help. two, don’t kill anyone. three, who’s the ghost lady?” It was the human’s turn to take a step back.

“Who said anything about killing someone?! I would never do that. She told me to go see some scientist fish lady. You are also incorrect that I need your help after the first time you helped me; that’s not what that means. Are you telling me that you can’t see her?” Sans looked away for a brief second before turning to her with a smile that left her a bit unsettled.

“you do need my help, because i can get you there without any further trouble on your part. plus, there are about four more traps, each one harder than this one to get through. no, i can’t see the ghost lady, and we can just pretend that i said nothing about killing.” They looked him up and down before their knees slightly buckled because of the cold.

“Okay, you won me over. Just so you know, though. I would’ve made it through this trap if I had listened to the ghost lady. She got me through all the other ones. My name is Chara, by the way.” Chara looked away as they held out their hand.

“my name is sans. i am a member of the royal guard, and it’s a pleasure to meet you.” He started to lead them to his house while he thought about what they had just discussed.

The only other people that knew how to properly get through his traps were Papyrus and Frisk. Frisk also had these crazy theories about how to use the DT extractor that no one was supposed to know about. While he wanted to be hopeful that the ghost lady was Frisk, it was too painful to think about, so he blinked away the tears that threatened to flow and carried on.

Two weeks had passed since he had allowed Chara into his home. It was probably very lucky that he had, since they ended up catching a pretty bad cold. It was also fortunate that Papyrus seemed to enjoy their company and Alphys was very understanding when she dropped by for a surprise visit. That was fun to explain. He had also been texting back and forth with Undyne so she’d be ready for Chara. Each text he sent was monitored by the ghost lady, that still had no name, so Chara was able to tell him what exactly Undyne would need.

Eventually, the day came that Chara would see Undyne. Of course, there was some major geeking out between both parties before any work was done, but they did eventually crack down. It was nearly a month long process, Sans no longer being kept in the loop, so he just went back to sparring, training, and trying to not think for too long. One day, he received a phone call.

“Sans, come quick! You’re going to want to see this.” Before he could answer, Undyne had already hung up, leaving him in shock and rushing to the lab.

When he got there, if his jaw hadn’t been properly attached, it would have hit the floor.

“frisk?” She standing in front of him, in the flesh, Undyne and Chara on either side of her.

“Hey.” Her voice was barely above a whisper as tears gathered in her eyes.

“hey.” Sans wrapped her in a tight embrace, not caring that his tears were probably soaking through her sweater.

#frans #fransweek #fransweek 2023 #sans x frisk #frisk x sans #frans au #underswap frans

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twentydaysofdrabbles · 9 months

Text

Due to IRL things, I'll have to skip today's substantial chapter. But please accept some further headcanons of other characters in the series along with their relationship with/view of the main 3.

The Manager

Much like John Wick and the Harbinger, the Manager once stood against the High Table. She never made her way to the Elder, but accepted her position as Manager and caretaker of the City in exchange for her 'freedom'. It's not really freedom.

The Manager is a sadist at heart but prefers to be so vicariously. She won't get her hands physically dirty if she can afford it, but that's not to say she won't if she has to.

Enjoys the manipulation of relationships and connections. The only real friendship she has is with the Concierge, and even then it is an imbalanced relationship.

Drinks her tea with one sugar and a dash of milk. Refuses to drink coffee or alcohol.

Is a big-picture person - she sets the goals, the Concierge gets her to her goals. Not very good with the nitty gritty. Not involved with the day-to-day running of the Hotel either.

Fiercely protective of the Hotel and the City. Will burn the world to ensure that the Hotel and the City lives/thrives.

Is scheming all the time and will not hesitate to use people as pawns, including the Concierge. Perhaps especially the Concierge.

In contrast to what the Concierge thinks, Papyrus and Sans are right when they say the Manager will deny the Concierge nothing. They have served the Manager too well for too long and she is far too fond of them. If the Concierge asks for the truth, the Manager will reveal all.

Thinks Sans is an important player in the game and will ensure that his cooperation is secured - either by blackmail or by his connection with the Concierge. That being said, if he breaks the Concierge's heart, she will rip out his.

Knows that Papyrus is key to Sans' cooperation as well - he is to Sans as the Concierge is to her. That being said, she is wary of Papyrus' sharp eye and keen senses; keep your friends close and your enemies closer.

Asgore

"The road to hell is paved with good intentions."

"Sacrifices must be made for the greater good."

A better peacetime leader than he is a wartime leader. Too merciful by half and not in a good way. He will spare those that should be killed and kill those that should be spared. Being told this multiple times, he sometimes compensates by going to the other end of the extreme and being too ruthless.

Relies heavily on Sans to tell him if someone is truly useful to him or not.

That being said, he is ambitious and will often strive for greater heights even if it's not reasonable.

He really wants a seat at that table not for himself, but to ensure that no one fucks with his Family. He doesn't realise that by putting his Family on the board, he's opening himself up to more maneuvering and plays from the rest of the High Table.

Is terrified of Frisk and he doesn't know why. It's because he was killed by Frisk in every run except this one.

Doesn't know what to make of the Manager or the Concierge. He thinks the Manager is hiding something and the Concierge is unsettling.

His advisors are Sans, Alphys, Undyne and Papyrus. Frisk was originally intended to become an advisor alongside them but Asgore veto-ed that decision real quick.

Really wants to get back together with Toriel again...maybe a bit too much.

Toriel

Can be cold and ruthless but only if one of her own is threatened.

Doesn't like it but she's very good at being a wartime leader. Able to make difficult decisions without blinking but will cry about them afterwards.

She understands that sometimes there is no right answer, but values the life of her men over the objective. Win the war, not the battle.

Was very scarred from her time as monarch and after losing Asriel and Chara so traumatically, she wants some time and space to recover before even thinking about returning to a leadership role.

Good friends with Sans but is very wary of him - she thinks he's very unpredictable and cannot read him. Doesn't know Papyrus very well but likes him well enough. Despises Alphys because of the whole kidnapping scenario. Thinks Undyne is a lot smarter than she appears but is blinded by her love for Alphys. Thinks that Asgore should have let go of their dead marriage already goddamn. Sees Frisk, rightfully, as a child soldier and wants to give them a better life.

Sees a kindred spirit in the Manager and likes her more than she should. In another life, they would have been good friends.

Respects the Concierge greatly, both in martial prowess and in tactical thinking. Is of the opinion that the Concierge is a bit mindless in their loyalty to the Manager and would like to see them leave the Manager's sphere of influence. Sees a bit of Frisk in them but wouldn't dare to mother the Concierge.

Frisk

Ran through far too many genocide runs and neutral runs for their own good. They had too much fun killing but then grew a conscience and went for a pacifist run.

They work best with a knife rather than with firearms.

When they Checked the Concierge, their flavour text box was empty. The Manager's flavour text box has her surface thoughts only. They are slightly intimidated by the LV and EXP on both the Concierge and Manager's stats but rationalises it by attributing it to their ages.

Sees a kindred spirit in the Concierge and would ideally like to spend more time with them. Is a little afraid that they will end up like the Concierge one day - soulless and seeking purpose in life.

Thinks the Manager is a snake and doesn't trust her as far as they can throw her. Respects her cunning and manipulative nature.

Wishes Toriel would treat them less like a child but knows where she is coming from, so they tolerate it.

Thinks Asgore is an idiot and better off if he weren't the monarch. Will back Toriel up if she wants to claim the throne again.

Likes Sans and Papyrus a lot. Despite Sans' cruel nature and bloodthirstiness, Sans has never outright lied to Frisk and they appreciate that. Papyrus is straightforward and blunt, again something that they find very refreshing. Likes the banter they share.

Doesn't mind Undyne but doesn't spend too much time with her. They get a creepy vibe from Alphys.

#the concierge #mafiafell au #headcanons

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everysongineverykey · 2 years

Note

narrator and toriel exchanging tips on how to care for humans, especially stubborn and mischievous ones

it's ten at night and they're sitting (well, toriel is; the narrator can't "sit" anywhere perse) in toriel's new, sparse living room in her house on the surface as the crickets chirp outside and frisk sleeps soundly in the other room and it feels like the world's just sighed deeply, and everything's relaxing, and there are joke books and books on shrimp and snails lying around scattered on the table open to random pages and toriel chuckles and says, "my, your friend stanley sounds like quite the handful! although i find his dedication to the bucket admirable. it is good to have someone you can always rely on, no matter what others may do."

and the narrator scoffs and manages to pull off a very impressive verbal eye-roll, and says, "well, that'd be fine if anyone was actually trying to hurt him, but no one is! he's in no danger! he has absolutely no need to rely on a bucket!"

toriel frowns slightly. "did you not say, just a moment ago, that he was being... mind-controlled?"

"well- i mean- well, yes, in the past he was, before the story starts, but every single run starts him off at his desk, after the controls have been neutralized! he just has to walk down to the facility and turn them off for good! it's so unfathomably easy, and yet- and yet, he still manages to find ways to muck it up!"

halfway through, he remembers there's a child sleeping in the other room, and checks his tone, still adjusting to having to be conscious of the volume of his voice. it's a strange thing, being heard by real, feeling, speaking people.

fortunately, toriel doesn't seem to notice. unfortunately, her next question isn't easy to answer.

"has anything... undesirable ever happened to stanley under your watch?"

the narrator pauses, searching her unreadable face, thinking of something to say that won't totally ruin the atmosphere.

"oh, i do not mean to be rude!" toriel clarifies quickly, the perfect picture of motherly anxiety. "i only ask because... well... i have often found it... difficult raising humans in the past. i feel sometimes as if i will never... truly understand them."

this is a feeling the narrator knows all too well. "oh, i know exactly what you mean," he reassures her. "one time, stanley told me with a straight face that he genuinely believed a tractor was a bucket! and that nothing was a bucket! i swear, that obsession of his is getting the best of him!"

toriel is unable to contain her laughter, and the narrator congratulates himself on another Real Conversation Done Right. "why," he continues, "what've your humans gotten up to that's worried you?"

just like that, the mirth disappears from her face, and her features, though not having aged at all since her son died, suddenly look very worn.

it seems a long while before she replies, "every human child i have tried to raise leaves me and dies for it."

chirp, chirp, chirp. the cricket noise outside seems to grow louder in the oppressive silence that follows.

it's as if her sentence was scripted, edited for minimum length and maximum clarity, so if anyone asked she wouldn't have to explain it too deeply. if only the narrator had an instructional video on socializing he could watch to know what to say...

at a loss, he tries, "frisk's still here... aren't they?"

toriel smiles, and while the narrator isn't he best judge of monster facial expressions, he doesn't think they're usually supposed to look this sad.

"yes. frisk is still here. despite everything..."

she gives the child's bedroom door a long look, a look that carries too many emotions for the narrator to stuff into booths.

"despite everything," she continues, "frisk is still here. even after i fought them... even after i tried to trap them in the ruins forever... they chose to stay with me. but those seven children... they are not like your stanley. they cannot restart with the push of a button. they left. and they-"

she inhales suddenly and sharply, bringing a paw up to her face, and the narrator realizes she's about to cry.

the narrator is about to see someone cry in real life, for the first time ever. the thought shakes him, and he feels a sense of unease that he is sure fills the whole room.

(that's the problem with being everywhere at once- your emotions feel as omnipresent as your voice. it's not so bad, he thinks, when your only companion can't feel it, or speak to tell you it annoys him.)

she gives up on finishing the sentence, covering her eyes with her paw. she doesn't need to say any more. the rest is obvious: and they are never coming back.

to the narrator's surprise, she doesn't cry. not loudly, anyway. not in the sloppy, sob-ridden, theatrical way the narrator has only seen on television. no, she's just sitting there, paws rubbing her face, and from a distance you'd wonder if she was even crying.

suddenly, abruptly, she uncovers her eyes, which are now red and shiny and as glassy as stanley's, but they're shedding no tears. incredible, the narrator thinks. she can turn it off whenever she thinks it's her duty to be strong.

i wish i could feel as subtly as that, he thinks briefly before pushing the thought away.

"are you-" he starts tentatively.

"i am fine," she sniffs. "please, do not worry. i just... do not talk about this often. it is hard to-" she looks down, thumbing a page of one of the joke books. "-keep it all inside every day."

"but... you do?"

again that sad smile. what he wouldn't give for a happy one, like he's always dreamed of seeing. "yes. i do. i have no other choice. it is not something i can talk about with my friends, after all."

"i couldn't do that," the narrator says as softly as possible. "keep everything locked up like that. even if i did, my world would be affected if i felt too deeply about anything. the last time i started thinking in circles, the rooms started running in circles. if i kept something like that in all day..."

he trails off, deciding not to even imagine the effect one of his hypothetical breakdowns could possibly have on the game- and on stanley.

"fortunately," toriel murmurs, "nothing like that will happen if i spare my friends the burden of hearing a silly old woman cry over her past mistakes."

time passes. she's looking at the words in the joke book, but the narrator really doubts she's actually reading anything. based on his limited understanding of sapient beings other than himself, this is not right.

"if you'd like to talk about it," he offers, "i can do with something besides puns for a little bit."

she gives him a small smile in response, still not looking up. somehow, the narrator can tell it still isn't what a smile is supposed to look like- it doesn't quite reach her glassy eyes. he steels himself. alright. time to try a new maneuver.

"or, of course, we can keep reading from that book there. the one you're reading. i mean, i just felt, since you're so captivated by it..."

he recalls the comedy advice she's given him over the past hour, namely, please don't do anything you learned in that instructional video, and pushes on.

"...that you could use a tu-toriel!"

for a moment, her expression does not change- the narrator wonders briefly if all comedians' jokes are followed by a moment of silence to consider the quality of the joke- and then she does something that confuses him even further.

toriel scrunches up her face, covers her snout with her paws, and begins... crying? laughing? ...hyperventilating? he can't tell.

"i-i'm sorry," he stammers, "are- is that a laugh? are you crying? i'm truly sorry, i- i quite honestly can't tell."

at that, she doubles over, slapping her left paw on the table once very hard, and finally uncovers her mouth.

"oh, mister narrator!" she wheezes, "you truly have learned so much!"

...and, thank god, the narrator can see now that yes, she is laughing, and laughing hard at that- she crosses her arms over her stomach, giggling like it's the funniest thing she's heard in years.

and there's a smile on her face, a real smile. so this is what it's like to make someone smile, or laugh, the narrator thinks... he's always wondered. it feels nice, being the reason someone laughs. he can feel something bright rising up inside him... as if his very soul is glowing... it's almost as good as a perfect steam review.

(okay, maybe a little better.)

"yes," she sighs, calming down, "i have faith in you. your damaged sense of humour is, indeed... re-parable!"

the glowing something in the narrator grows two sizes, and whatever's been rising in him forces itself out... in the shape of an identical laugh. the sound's so ridiculous, it makes him laugh even more... if he had a body, he would make sure to slap his knee like they do in old human movies. that's always looked fun, he thinks.

her grin appears to grow at his reaction. it is nice, he thinks, to have some jokes besides your own to laugh at.

it takes them both a minute to calm down, but when they do, the silence is noticeably less heavy.

"i suppose," smiles toriel, "that stanley is not the humorous type?"

"no," the narrator replies, rather out of breath. "i told him bucket jokes for over an hour once. he didn't even flinch."

"do you think it is perhaps because you followed the rules of those instructional videos you mentioned?"

he sighs, but she can hear the smile in his voice. "oh, can you really blame me? they were the only point of reference i had. anyway, the jokes were funny! they were! i swear, i'll never understand him."

at that, toriel looks thoughtful. "they are confusing... are they not?"

the narrator's about to agree profusely, but then he recalls her question from earlier, the one that started them on this curious path in the first place...

he clears his non-throat, trying to adopt a more serious, yet not quite grave tone. god, he thinks, this is turning out to be harder than he ever expected.

"i..."

nothing comes to him. what could he possibly say?

i've lost stanley so many times, in so many ways, it's not funny? he never listens to me either, and he dies for it too? if you think YOU'VE failed as a guide, just wait until you hear about this incident with the staircase-

but some other part of him, the part that just saw a woman fall apart in seconds thinking of her regrets, rises up above these awful memories and steadies him, and for once, his worry doesn't expand to fill the whole space like a big balloon.

"yes?" toriel asks, searching the room for something to focus on in the absence of a real face and body.

"i think," he says, hoping it's obvious that he's not serious, "that humans are just about the weirdest damned creatures i've ever met. don't you?"

she stares into space for a moment, then fixes her eyes on the fireplace with a grin.

"you must admit, though, that they never cease to impress."

he laughs. "ha! 'impress' is one word for it. stanley once sword-fought an eldritch beast born from a bucket and WON!"

toriel giggles, clapping her paws. "i would love to meet this stanley of yours! he sounds like quite the character."

he's the MAIN character, the narrator thinks, and the best one i could ask for. he doesn't voice this thought.

suddenly, toriel's eyes light up. "in fact, i am certain he and frisk would get along splendidly! frisk would love their very own reassurance bucket!"

the thought makes the narrator chuckle and shudder in dread at the same time. "i'm sure they would. and that's why i don't know if that's such a good idea. didn't you say frisk fought the entire underground and won every time? i wouldn't want stanley getting strange ideas about rebellion or things like that-"

at that moment, the door to frisk's bedroom brushes open just a crack, making the narrator jump in his own metaphysical way.

the child still looks half asleep in their blue-and-pink striped jumper, one eye still squeezed shut and with a terrific case of bedhead as they lean on the doorway, and as they look around dazedly, the narrator reconciles their image with every stock photo of human children he's ever seen, and thinks: yeah, that checks out.

"mom?" frisk signs, their hands taking a minute to orient themselves, presumably out of tiredness. the narrator feels a tinge of guilt for waking them up. "i thought i heard you talking to someone..."

toriel blinks, seeming a little surprised, then moves quickly over to her sleepy child. "oh! oh, my, i am very sorry, my child... did we wake you?" she kneels down, smoothing their ruffled hair. "we will be quieter."

frisk looks past her, confused. "but... who are you talking to? i don't see anyone."

the awkwardness of having to interact with a child is just now hitting the narrator, he discovers as toriel attempts to explain the faceless, incorporeal, omnipotent, extradimensional being in their home.

"oh, no, my child, some things cannot be seen... mister narrator, would you say hello?"

oh. saying hello to a child. all right. this is fine. the narrator clears his head and says, "well, hello there, sport-o! smashing jumper you've got there! i hear you can cheat death. that affect your grades at all?"

toriel just stares. frisk fixates on one specific point on the floor, eyes wider than dinner plates at the sudden voice seemingly coming from nowhere.

really, thinks the narrator, he should be awarded for having no body and yet still somehow managing to very skillfully put his foot in his mouth.

(frisk's seen too much to be fazed, though. as far as they're concerned, a new person is a chance at friendship and some pie- both of which they receive in the hours after the narrator apologizes profusely.)

#undertale #the stanley parable #this got REALLY long whoof so i'm putting it under a cut lol #but do please read! it's very much a one-draft but i had maybe a bit too much fun with it #sorry lmao a full mini fic probably isn't what you were expecting but i saw this ask and got inspired💙

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arandomaquarius · 7 months

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Color!Sans Headcanons (not in order) TW! MENTIONS OF DISSOCIATION, DEREALIZATION, BLOOD, MURDER, GENOCIDE AND MAYBE OTHER TRIGGERS THAT I CANNOT IDENTIFY

Some of these are similar/the same as @howlsofbloodhounds bc they made a few hc posts that I agree with on some points. If they want me to edit out the parts that are similar to theirs, then I will.

Over the time that he was in the Void, Color’s hatred for the human eventually grew into hatred towards all humans. CORE!Frisk helped Color to not hate humanity after he left the void. Even after meeting CORE!Frisk properly, he didn’t trust them. It took him about three years of almost constant companionship to even relax around CORE!Frisk; it took a little bit longer for him to do that around other humans.

Epic and CORE!Frisk are the first people Color met when he left the void.

When he was in the void, Color was a lot like Geno: anti-social, short-tempered, cold, and pessimistic. Epic and CORE!Frisk helped Color when he first left the void so that he wasn’t as cold, angry, anti-social, and negative as he was.

I saw someone say that they think Color loves poppies, and I think he would also love forget-me-nots and he gives these to people he wants to remember him.

Epic kept bugging Color to get a house so he did to shut him up. It is in the Omega Timeline. The house is small, but Color doesn’t mind because he says it’s only a place to go to when he needs to. That means that there are mostly non-perishables in the kitchen so that nothing rots while Color’s away.

He’s a minimalist.

He likes giving gifts but doesn’t really like receiving them. He always keeps gifts though and uses them as much as possible.

Color likes strays, but he never keeps them; he lets them wander like him.

Epic gave Color a Polaroid when he found out Color has a fear of being forgotten. Color treasures it and takes photos so often that he’s become semi-professional. He puts these photos around his house and in the Chroma Realm.

He takes photos of just about everything, but he especially likes taking photos of nature. He also loves candid photos/unflattering photos. He likes how real they are.

He gives pictures of his friends and himself to his friends to ease the fear of being forgotten.

Due to losing everything once, Color is very overprotective of his friends, family, and home (he considers the Multiverse to be his actual home). Color would do anything to protect what he cares about.

He doesn’t fight a lot. (might be canon, but I’m not sure)

Color dislikes political things.

Over the time that he was in the Void, Color’s hatred for the human eventually grew into hatred towards all humans. CORE!Frisk helped Color to not hate humanity after he left the void.

He has a fear of being trapped. After spending years in an inescapable and empty void, he can’t stay in one spot long, or else he gets anxious.

Another phobia of his is confined spaces.

LOVES THE STARS AND THE SKY AND SUN AND JUST BEING OUTSIDE IF HE IS OUTSIDE HE IS SO HAPPY

Doesn’t like too much attention on him.

Color never tested his new abilities before he left the void; he didn’t want to mess with the Timeline.

When he first got to the Omega Timeline, everyone crowded him and he freaked out and teleported away. When he was freaking out from all the people, he accidentally opened a portal to an AU and fell through.

Thus began his travels✨

He still can’t really handle the Omega Timeline; people crowding him totally sets him off.

Reaper unsettles him.

Sometimes his chest and head hurt bad, kind of like phantom pains. His eyesight in his left eye sometimes also becomes either blurry or it just disappears completely.

Color can sometimes see the spirits of the six human souls he absorbed. They mostly appear when a specific trait is most prominent (i.e. PATIENCE, BRAVERY, JUSTICE, INTEGRITY, etc.) They can only talk to him, and he doesn’t believe that they’re real.

He has dissociation and derealization disorders.

The events of the Genocide Route still haunt him to this day…

He’s not sorry nor guilty for killing the human, but he is shaken by the memories of the fight (i.e., bones crunching, blood splattering).

He’s able to go back to where he was in the void with Gaster; he doesn’t visit too often though, because it might be risky.

Color lends Geno books and helps him not feel self-conscious about his melting skull. They also play chess, checkers, and other various games together.

Color encourages Killer to be nicer to others, but he never expects him to do it.

Sneaking up on Color can be difficult— not that you want to— because he’s so used to having to be hyper-aware of his surroundings. If you do manage to sneak up on him and scare him, his first reaction is to punch/attack you— Epic and Killer keep learning this the hard way.

Color’s soul is highly sought after, due to its strange nature and being a good balance of six human souls and one monster soul.

Nobody knows how many different attacks Color has; everyone always gets surprised when he uses something they haven’t seen before.

Due to being half blind, Color sometimes has a hard time using the right side of his body. He can misjudge the distance between an object and his hand, and miss it.

His friends walk on his blind side so that he doesn’t get caught by surprise when a stranger is suddenly beside him.

He is considered the leading expert in SOUL research, due to his wanting to help Killer.

He carries a journal on him with all the information about SOULS that he has collected over the years and across the Multiverse. The journal is worn down and written in Arabic so that others can’t snoop through it. Color treasures that journal a lot; it’s one of the first things he always checks for damage. He’d panic if he lost/didn’t know where it was.

Color’s handwriting is chicken scratch that sometimes he can’t even read.

He frequents certain AUs he’s particularly fond of.

Color and Killer both speak Arabic and it confuses everyone else but they love it so much.

Color avoids going to UnderTale; he doesn’t think he’s quite ready to face a Papyrus that’s almost identical to his brother.

#arandomaquarius #undertale au #color!sans #othertale!sans #othertale #utmv #headcanon #killer sans #epic sans #core frisk #omega timeline #sans au #trigger warning #headcannons #hcs #headcanons #drabbles

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stainedglassthreads · 2 years

Text

Question

If I were to open commissions of some sort, would anyone be interested, and what sort (or sorts) of commissions would people be most interested by? The following are options I’ve considered, and would feel comfortable and confident doing--

(Side-note, assume that I’m unwilling to do anything involving romance, suggestive art, or smut, just in general. Also generally willing to draw/write characters from any fandom, so long as you’re willing to field a bunch of questions about them.)

-Digital art commissions. I’d be down to do sketches, lineart, and lineless, with or without backgrounds. Probably offer image descriptions as a free bonus. Examples of the work I’m proudest of below the cut.

-Written fic/short story commissions. I’d need to research how to price these more, but I’d be willing to write and edit a one-shot or a chapter of a fic.

-Beta-read and suggest feedback on written fiction. Probably priced based on length, or on a per-chapter basis. I read your fiction, I give my general reactions and impressions, offer spelling and grammatical corrections, discuss what you do well and what you could perhaps do better (Again, I don’t know squat about romance, so. Maybe find someone else for your shipfics.)

Examples of my art can be found below the cut. Warning for some blood.

Image Description: First image is a sketch I’ve done, lightly shaded in a warm orange color. It’s of a boy with a pudgy face and wavy hair, smiling warmly and holding out his hand. There’s a bloody cut across his left cheek, and his fingertips are bloody too.

Below that is another sketch of a different boy, this one mostly done in shades of dark grey and blue. It’s of a boy with long black hair and very pale skin, looking a bit bored or apathetic. Bright red blood spattered across him is the only color in the picture.

Below that are two images of Undertale AUs-- one of Frisk and Papyrus of Inverted Fate flying through the skies, one of the Underfell cast, reminiscent of the True Pacifistic photograph in Undertale. Funny antics can be found in the picture, such as Asgore being completely out of frame, or Mettaton sticking his leg in the shot.

Below are two comic pages I’ve done, both with completely lineless art. One depicts an inhuman woman with dark hair, pointed ears, and pale skin killing two dragons on the upper half of the page, and he grinning while covered in blood on the lower half. At the bottom of the text are the words ‘she brings naught but destruction in her wake.’

The next page begins with two panels of the same woman. It starts as a shot from her bust up with her face in shadow, then zooms in on her pinprick eyes as she says ‘...I can’t help it. Humans are... so fascinating.’ The rest of the page is dominated by an image of a young man floating in a river of magma. His skin is light, his hair wavy and brown, his ears are pointed like the woman’s. He is fat but muscular, clad in only a tattered red cloth, red markings across his body. He seems to be asleep or unconscious.

The woman continues to speak, ‘They’re unlike any other species I’ve seen...’

A different voice interrupts her. ‘No. They’re just like any other species which evolved on this world. And they’ll die out someday, too.’

End ID

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souls-and-petrification · 2 years

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Hello, this blog is about an undertale “AU” or universe I am designing. This doesn’t have a name yet, but it involves stone, petrifaction, and many more. This is inspired by glitchtale and underverse which I need to rewatch, I missed a lot dont kill me.

This au is evolved with the star sanses, or what they use to be. I have no group what has happened or if they still exist. These three sanses created an AU, with the help of core frisk, that was safe for everyone. Any sans, papyrus, undyne, etc. may live here, wait for a new au, and more. It’s for those who had their AUS destroyed or never had one to begin with. It has buildings and homes they could live in, there is a place at the top almost like a castle where the three remain.

Ink, the Master of Creativity.

Dream, the Guardian of Positivity.

Swap, the Enforcer of Tranquility.

These three protects the aus and from harm, nightmare and error, dust, charas, and many, many more. They are the founders of the G.A.U. known as Guardians of the Alternate Universes. The name may change because I suck at names sometimes.

Anyone can join the guard, but they must be prepared for what may come to them. To prevent villains from destroying anymore aus Master! Ink had designed a void that had the codings of Errors and Gasters own void, and with the combination of other inks they created a prison. These voids are designed to trap villains, they are connected to the au so that a guard may enter. It’s an endless space that may shift or change, but it can be opened. An abyss. It’s called the Abyssal Shackles, these voids hang out of the bounds of the aus yet remain chained to the au itself. (Drawings will come soon of this)

There’s one abyss called the stone garden, statues fill the area and the remains of an au is home to a villain. His name (for now) is Pétrifier! sans, a dangerous sans able to turn monsters into stone. His whole au deserted, and those remaining have become stone for him to grind. He remains there trapped there for an unknown amount of time unable to escape, stuck to see the pain he caused.

A creature exists coming from another side able to hit the “walls” of a void, or an au. I have no name for this creature but it is inspired by a creature from a Canadian show I love. I’m not gonna spoil any of the story just yet so look out. Here’s a picture of Pétri!

His cloak is see through, and across his body is stone crawling and infecting him. I know the eyes are empty and I will design them at some point, but I want them to be unique.

#undertale au #multiverse #Dou-verse #undertale oc #undertale alternate timeline #i think #i don’t know

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venelona · 2 years

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So, Franstober’s over

I did it aaaa I still can’t believe it XD Initial plan was to have most of it as sketches because I didn’t think I’d have enough drawing juices to draw complete pieces for a month... but then I just. Forgot that LOL

Again, huge thanks to @uhhbananafrappe for the prompts and so many new ideas 💗💕✨ if you can drop by her blog and her kofi page, so much amazing stuff that’s been inspiring me for more than 5 years

So yeah after month of non-stop drawing I’ll most probably take a break XD I put on hold every project I was in the middle of to do franstober and I’d like to get back to them, even tho all of them are sacred secrets I can’t post

But there’s a second reason for this post... my birthday is soon!

Yeah 4th of November is my Birthday and I have a tiny wish

Please give me feedback for my art

It comes and goes for a few months now, but sometimes I feel very discouraged/sad from lack of concrete feedback on my drawings. I do a picture that I think is the best picture I’ve ever done and get zero comments, or I try something new, something so different that if I incorporate it into my art it will change it fundamentally, and get nothin’.

Don’t misunderstand me, getting general compliments is very flattering, and I appreciate each and every one, as well each and every one person who leaves them!! The thing is- I really want to improve my art, and without help of other’s I’ll just be moving in circles for a long time.

So, no need to write be happy birthday wishes on my big day. Here’s my wish -

please send me which of my drawing/doodles/comics/gifts is your favorite, and why

in the comments, in the inbox, just in dms - the ‘why’ part can be anything - the way i lined it, the coloring, the lighting, the way I drew a neck or colored an eye, or it was a fanart for something you love, or even for you- maybe its the feelings conveyed, or, if its a comic, maybe its the way frames are structured or just a story-

and don’t come saying ‘all of your art’. this will make me feel sadder for reasons i can’t quite express myself. please please please just pick one

Though I’d appreciate if you actually picked two! Bonus points if you pick from my overall art, and then from latest Franstober art! It contains more of the stand alone pieces, as well as a lot of experiments. I’d be very happy to hear which franstober piece people liked the best, and it would also help me a ton!

(I’ll link all my franstober drawings below the cut)

So yeah. My inbox is open, my dm’s are open, my little box is waiting and I’d really appreciate your comments, more than you know 💕 Lots of people will probably think less of me now, demanding attention, but... It’s for my birthday, let me be petty for my birthday!!! and i’ll take curing my sadness and improving my art over being looked down upon

Thank you for reading this monologue haha. Here’s All my franstober 2021:

i posted this before making list on accident bear with me

Day 1 - Nest - Songfell (by ikustioa / songfell-ut )

Day 2 - Bonds - Error Sans x Frisk

Day 3 - Secret - Taboo love (inspired by yoralim)

Day 4 - Tired - Horrortale (Horror and his dogs)

Day 5 - Private - Storyfell

Day 6 - Public - Reapertale

Day 7 - Ride - Underfell (Based on my Bad To The Bone comic)

Day 8 - Blind - Dancefell

Day 9 - Experiment - Underlab (by sharkowskii)

Day 10 - Chase - Outertale

Day 11 - Soft - Overtale (version by nuvex)

Day 12 - Seed - Parasitetale (by bloowe-blu)

Day 13 - Color - Fresh Sans x Fresh Frisk

Day 14 - Hate - Dusttale

Day 15 - Love - Flowerfell

Day 16 - Money - Mermaid (Aqua by uhhbananafrappe) Sans x Frisk

Day 17 - Hangover - Swapfell

Day 18 - Jealous - Kingdom of the Crystal Sky (by kodizzzle)

Day 19 - Video - Undergate (by saturnbela)

Day 20 - Warp - Nightmare Sans x Frisk

Day 21 - Riddle - Underswap

Day 22 - Punishment - Lockfell (by me/ lockfell)

Day 23 - Reward - Dancetale

Day 24 - Collar - Underfell

Day 25 - Quiet - Aftertale (by loverofpiggies)

Day 26 - Stay - Lamia (Cobalt by uhhbananafrappe) Sans x Frisk

Day 27 - Steel - Undertale

Day 28 - Regret - Mage Blue x Frisk (based on my Mage Blue comic)

Day 29 - Tease - Mafiatale

Day 30 - Broken - Check & Mate (by me/ undertale-check-and-mate)

Day 31 - Caged - Undertale

#v rambles #venelona #sona #self insert #frans #franstober #birthday #i fixed it

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theninjamouse · 3 years

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So I know this happened a while ago but I really want to know. So do you remember snowtown inn the shorby short story? Well I have always wondered what was going through grillbys mind while shore was lost and when they found her.

HI sorry this took a bit, I got hit with that post vaccine fever and it completely knocked me on my butt for a few days. For those who haven’t read it, on my ao3 there’s a short called Snowstorm Inn that you can check out. I would link it here but tumblr has deemed all links Evil and Rude

Short answer: Panic

Long answer:

Grillby doesn’t doubt your abilities. Truly, he doesn’t. However, whether through some cruel joke of the universe or sheer bad luck, accidents are unfortunate, but rather common occurrence when it comes to you.

If he’s being honest, your alarming lack of self-preservation is also probably to blame. That and your ravenous need for…excitement? Adrenaline? He’s not quite sure what exactly it is that drives that gleam you get in your eyes. It’s part of the reason he was so drawn to you in the first place but by the Angel does it drive him mad sometimes.

He wasn’t surprised that you decided to stay out on the mountain for a few more runs when he called it quits. The growing cold and snowfall had gone from a mild inconvenience to a steadily painful prick against his exposed body but that doesn’t seem to bother you (though your red nose and sniffles said otherwise). But aside from the hilarious and thankfully harmless tumble and a few bruises, you seemed to have enough of a handle on skiing that he felt only a small bit of trepidation about leaving you on the mountain.

But that’s par for the course with him.

So, he’d tucked his scarf around your neck, quietly hid the flutter in his Soul at the sight of you snuggling against his residual warmth and headed back to the lodge with a small knot of anxiety in his chest.

It’s nearly dark now. What’s left of the setting sun is utterly hidden behind the predicted storm that blew in with terrifying speed and intensity.

And you’re not back.

Grillby is sat in a chair near the large window, foot tapping against the ground. A mug of cider is forgotten on the table next to him. His phone rests in his hand, more of a useless thing for him to fiddle with for all the good it’s doing. He’d tried calling you but it had gone straight to voicemail. Stupid, useless thing. He thought these things were bad enough in the underground, with spotty connections and dropped calls but out here, you get one bloody mountain in the way-

The sudden ring and vibration in his hand just about ejects his Soul from his chest with the force of his jump. Flickering harsh reds, Grillby fumbles for the answer button, not bothering to even look at who’s calling him. “Shore?”

The voice that answers him is decidedly not Shore, and Grillby’s Soul plummets into his gut. “Um, it’s me,” Undyne says. It’s hard to hear her, there’s a harsh whistling that probably means she’s still out in the snow.

“What’s happened?” The words are tight and Grillby is already getting to his feet, turning to head back to the lodge exit.

What Undyne says next stops him dead in his tracks.

“Shore’s missing.”

“What do you mean missing?”

Frisk, Sans, Toriel, Asgore and Alphys all look up from their card game, alarm clear on their faces at his words. He ignores them.

“Exactly that!” Undyne snaps. She takes a breath, the sound crackling in his ear. “Paps and I got the bottom of the mountain and she didn’t show up. We waited and waited and tried to go back up but they’d shut the lifts down and the storm started and I can’t see anything with all this stupid snow-!”

Grillby’s started walking again without realizing it. “I’m on my way.”

“No, you can’t come out in this.” Undyne’s voice is sharp, the voice of a captain. “This isn’t like the storms in Snowdin.”

“You think I care about that?” he snarls. “Shore might be hurt!”

“You’re only going to get yourself hurt out here, okay? Look, the resort people are getting mobiles and a search team together. They’re trained for this. Paps and I are going with them, but you need to stay at the lodge, let the others know.”

“I’m not-”

“Stay. Inside.” Undyne hangs up on him.

Stay inside? Not a chance in hell.

A hand on his arm stops him with surprising strength. Sans, phone in his other hand, shakes his head. His usual smile is grimly thin. “grillbz, it’s seriously bad out there.”

“Is that supposed to convince me to just stay here?” Grillby pulls him arm away. All it takes is a blink and Sans is standing in front of the door that leads outside.

“no, i’d hope your own common sense would do that. shore’s the one who’s supposed to-”

“Do not finish that sentence.”

Sans doesn’t flinch under the surge of heat as Grillby struggles with the urge to simply shove the skeleton aside. But his eyes flick to the window where now the snow is falling so heavily the mountain itself is completely obstructed.

“Grillby.” Asgore’s heavy paw lands on his shoulder, making him flinch. “I’m s- absolutely certain that Shore is just fine. I just spoke to the resort staff and they’ve already sent out a team to go up the mountain.”

“And that’s assuming that Undyne and Papyrus don’t find her first.” The queen, with practiced calm, gives Frisk’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “She would not want you hurting yourself looking for her. She’s capable and I know that she is just fine. Come sit down and we’ll all wait here.”

It kills him. It absolutely kills him. But they’re right.

So he sits.

And he waits.

~~~

It takes an eternity. Every time the door opens, Grillby gets to his feet, only for disappointment to sink his flames low. Undyne is forced to come inside, her body simply giving out at the plummeting temperatures. Grillby actually has to be held back at that point, only the fear of burning Asgore stopping him from forcing his way outside. You’re human, you’re warm-blooded so at least your body will last longer but gods he’s terrified. He can’t stop picturing you curled in the snow, frozen, hurt, hunted by any number of the creatures that live out in the deep forests of the mountains.

By the time you’re found, a small crowd has gathered in the lobby of resort. Staff, guests, people who are drawn in the by excitement of a missing person.

Then, shouts. A commotion. Grillby had long ago given up on sitting and he runs to meet the crew that bursts in through the doors, bringing with it a terrible wave of cold and snow that makes his flames gutter.

His fire sinks even lower when he sees you. Your skin is blue. Your lips are color of a horrendous bruised purple, bits of ice and snow clinging to your eyelashes. They’re flickering weakly but it’s the only movement from you at all.

He shoves closer, let him through, he needs to get to you!

One of the rescue team sees him, eyes widening for a moment before tightening with resolve. “Come with me, this way.”

He follows, his Soul wailing silently in his chest at the distance that still remains between you as the rescue team carries you into a side room, shutting the door firmly behind him.

You’ve started to shiver, soft gasps leaving your purpled lips. The humans are peeling off your layers, exposing your skin, what are they doing?

“Can you control your temperature fully?”

He blinks. It takes him a moment to even process that one of the humans is addressing him. He would almost be insulted if he wasn’t nearly out of his mind with panic. “Yes.”

“Come over here, quickly.” The human gestures to Shore, now laid nearly bare save for undergarments but that is quickly covered up by a some kind of shiny silver blanket. “You need to warm her up.”

“Go slow; too fast can trigger shock.”

It’s a true testament of strength that he is able to cool himself at all, when every instinct screams at him to flush himself hotter, warmer, until your skin returns to the soft warm tones he knows so intimately.

He can’t stop the pained gasp that escapes him when he feels how utterly cold you are. Like a stone, like metal in the ice.

Like the dead.

He wraps his arms around you, sinking down to the ground so he can pull you into his lap. His fire crackles reassuringly, tongues of flame creeping slowly over your skin in the thinnest layer he can manage. Come on, come on.

You stir. He nearly sobs.

With the softest of groans, you turn your face into the hand he has placed against your frozen cheek. Melting ice, or maybe tears run slowly from your eyes and sizzle against his fingers.

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” he murmurs.

Now that your eyes are free of ice, your eyelids fight to open. A soft and wobbling smile comes to your face. “’m okay,” you croak, as if you weren’t lying nearly frozen to death in his arms.

Grillby’s core shudders. “Yes,” he breathes. You are now.

He’s going to make sure of it.

“I’m cold.”

“I know sweetheart. I have to warm you up slowly.”

“That’s dumb.”

Dear Angel. That light hearted and slightly annoyed tone is so completely you that he can’t help a small snort that perhaps lets loose more of the emotion in his chest. “Yes, yes it is.”

“Can I sleep?”

He glances to one of the other humans. “Is that okay?”

They nod and so he runs a thumb over your face and whispers, “ Yes. You can sleep now. I’ll keep you warm.”

The smile you give him makes his flames quiver and as your eyes close and you slip off to sleep, he hunches over to hide his face in your hair and shakes and shakes and does what he does best.

He keeps you warm.

#grillby #grillby/reader #grillby x reader #undertale #OoF extra #Snowstorm Inn #OoF oneshot #aaaaaah shorby my dear

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squarefriend · 3 years

Text

Mermay ended yesterday, but I’m sitting on the beach at this very moment so let’s fucking do this:

🌴🐬BEACH HEAD CANNONS!!!🐬🌴

Chara

❤️ They are actually rather neutral over the ocean. Far more of a skipping stones and playing in the lake kind of kid. Though, they do have a respect for the water’s raw power and changing tides. (Also seeing how much Undyne loves it made them want to appreciate the ocean more)

❤️ Thanks to being attached to Frisk’s soul, they kinda have to go to the beach all the time now. They like to go out as far as they can and walk along to the bottom, or float above Frisk and try to freak them out.

❤️ All that being said, they ADORE sharks. They nerd out every time they get to go to the aquarium. (Then get kinda embarrassed about it).

❤️ They have (on more than one occasion) convinced Frisk that because they’re a ghost they can see all the ghosts of everyone who’s drowned, and that yes, pirates ARE coming to get them...... It backfired at the notion that now Frisk WANTED to go meet the ghost pirates.

❤️ Had a brief period of wanting to be a mermaid, purely because A) Not a human and B) Typically man eaters. It suited their style

Frisk

❤️ They LOVE the ocean.... or rather, they love the beach. There’s one right at the edge of Ebbott City, so in the summer, they get to go up every weekend or so. And you can bet on that weekend, they have an absolute ball with whomever family/friend took them this time.

❤️ Their favorite part is exploring. They love to run around on the beach, looking for shells or any critters, as well as going out into as deep as the can in the ocean (usually only to be called back by their mom). Speak of the devil, Toriel bought them a snorkeling kit for their gotcha day and that thing has been used religiously ever since!

❤️ Every time they go the the car to go home, Frisk has to be checked by an adult (not either of the skelebros, they are WAY to lenient on this one) to make sure that they don’t have any stow away sea critters. One too many times of Frisk trying to keep a pet crab.

❤️ They take swimming lessons from Undyne! There were only a couple of misunderstandings over wether or not a humans could breathe underwater, but its all been sorted out! They’re doing really well!

❤️ They refuse to learn how to dive. Undyne has been trying to teach them for MONTHS now. It’s cannon ball or nothing, and they’re determined to keep it that way.

Flowey

❤️ Back when he was Asriel, he’d wanted to see the ocean. They don’t exactly have HUGE bodies of water in the underground like that, basically only the river. And no one swims in the river. Add in Chara’s talk of mermaids and their stories about lakes and skipping stones and all that.... It had been a big goal of his. Now that he’s there, and without the capabilities to swim or get in the water, and without the person who said they’d show him the surf.... it’s uh, it’s lost its appeal.

❤️ Frisk and Papyrus tried to get him to go out in one of those dog floaties. It looked pretty ridiculous and nearly tipped over a couple of times. Inevitably it was decided that it was just best to just keep him on the shore or in the shallows strapped to someone’s chest.

❤️ Usually he just sits on the shore with Paps, Frisk, or Toriel. He (begrudgingly) likes to make sand castles. He’s actually gotten quite good at them. Either that or eat nice cream.

❤️ Papyrus made him tiny sunglasses. He wears them every time they go to the beach.

❤️ When he does go into the water, he likes to stick his head under the serf and try to find fish. He actually managed to catch one in his mouth once, both impressive and terrifying.

Toriel

❤️ She is fond of the beach. Not so much the water, but she does enjoy the occasional swim with Frisk. Would probably like going out on a boat, though she has never tried it.

❤️ Usually while the rest of the family swims, she’s on the shore in her beach chair, reading a good book and keeping a watchful eye on her kids. She can usually get through half of the thing before its time to go home.

❤️ That being said, when she does go out in the water (usually to cool off or check on Frisk and/or Flowey) she is remarkably good at floating along. That, and she’s abit of a beast when it comes to X-treme monkey in the middle. That lady is huge and can use that height when she needs to. Also she has to shake off when she gets out of the water.

❤️ She ALWAYS has a beach bag on her, and in that beach bag is pretty much anything you’d ever hope to need. Pool toys, goggles, fresh water, extra sunscreen, at least three books, money, Your scocial security number, you name it.

❤️ Toriel’s usually the go to ‘hold tired swimmer gently’ person. And has done so for everyone in the main cast but Mettaton and Undyne. You could just fall asleep in those big ole’ arms.

Sans

❤️ He’s, as with most things, pretty nuetral about the ocean. Though, he adores the fact that it’s a day he can just slack off and relax in the sun (and sometimes water). He’s usually on the beach in a beach chair or sitting in a pool floaty, just drifting along. Sometimes he’s just latched onto Paps or Toriel, it’s kinda a wild card where he is at any given time.

❤️ He has never been sober ONCE while at the beach with the family. Mostly thanks to the fact that he somehow always has a martini in hand. No one knows where he gets it, let alone how it is almost always at least half way full. Needless to say, he’s at least buzzed by the end of the day.

❤️ Every time they go to the beach, he wears the most insane sunglasses. I’m talking Elton John style, but if they came from dollar tree. Normally it’s a pineapple pair, but they change on a whim. Once again, no ones entirely sure where they come from.

❤️ He briefly moved the illegal hotdog stand to beach, before the threat of getting fined was close enough to scadattle. This, the limited addition ‘Colddogs’ (now for 5g, wait he meant 50g, actually its 500-) became a thing. They were followed shortly by ‘Frozendogs’ (available in 50 flavors!)

❤️ The two never breathe a word of it, but every once in awhile Papyrus will rent a canoe and the two of them will go out on the water. They only do this at the dead of night, when the water is still and clear. Way out past the buoys, where it’s hard to see the shore, the moon and the stars bounce off the water in a shifting, funhouse esc reflection. Being out there, together, in practically silence..... It brings a lot of comfort to the two of them. It reminds Sans that yeah, this is real, and some things are worth remembering.

Papyrus

❤️ Paps is very fond of the shallows, but not a huge fan off big, open water. Unless he’s in the comfort of a canoe or boat. It’s just too big of a space. One can feel so... alone out there. But!! If he’s in chest or higher or with a group of close friends, he’s good!!

❤️ He bought special spandex gloves to wear in the water, ones that cover his fingers and palms without being skin (bone???) tight. They help him tread the water better, since he’s the opposite of buoyant. Which is definitely the only reason he bought them! No other reason in sight! Why would you even ask that?!

❤️ He, Undyne, and Frisk play ALOT of beach games, all far more extreme than their originals. The current turnomemt is over X-Treme volleyball, this time featuring antigravity magic and spears. Frisk is, somehow, winning.

❤️ A good portion of the time, he eats nice cream and makes sand castles with Flowey. Their creations are startlingly structurally sound and flourished. Though, they are also usually next to a life sized sand-Papyrus. No one knows where the sand came from.

❤️ He tried catch and realease shark fishing with Undyne once. It um, got interesting to say the least. Especially when they tried to use Papyrus as live bait. They only had to go to the ER twice!

Undyne (Aka my entire reason for writing this)

❤️ Undyne doesn’t love the ocean. She doesn’t even like the ocean. She ADORES the ocean. You can find her there almost every day after work, sun or storm. She never realized how much she would thrive in salt water until she was there, and now she can’t believe she lived without it. Its so raw and passionate and buetiful, and she’s just at home in the waves.

❤️ Her favorite time to be out is during a good storm, when the ocean is at her roughest. Undyne has learned how to boogie board and body surf since she got on the surface, and uses those huge waves to catch some air. She WANTS to learn how to surf, but has yet to find someone to teach her. Storms are also the best for letting the water roll over her and letting herself drift in the tides, both are pretty damn amazing feelings.

❤️ Because she can breathe and see under the water, she also likes to swim out really deep into the open ocean. No one in the family can follow, but it gives her a lot of time to think. Also, there are sometimes HUGE fish out there, which she greatly enjoys seeing and interacting with. She’s. she’s fought a tiger shark before. And probably other, larger and more dangerous things. (Also when she gets home, Alphys always talks about how her kisses taste like salt. Undyne loves it).

❤️ Before she became Asgore’s body gaurd, Undyne was pretty much out of work. Not a whole lot of people wanted a massive, sharp toothed, she-shark selling retail in their stores. But, being a fish and all, she got managed to get a job as a life gaurd over the summer! This ended in her actually giving swim lessons to a couple of kids (starting with Frisk)!! She is actually a pretty good trainer and still teaches a few kids every once in awhile over summer breaks.

❤️ Her and Asgore went on a fishing trip once! The boat nearly capsized, Undyne ended up going in to fish instead of using the pole, there were life lessons taught about patience, and Asgore got horrendously away sick. Needless to say, it was a good trip. They still have pictures on Asgore’s fridge!

Alphys

❤️ As much as her girlfriend loves it, she’s not actually a huge fan of the water. It’s overwhelming and dries out her scales, and when she’s in super deep it makes her really uncomfortable. She’s stared into oblivion before and, well, it’s not a good feeling. The deep sea reminds her of that.

❤️ That being said, she LOVES the beach itself. She could sun bathe for hours while Undyne is swimming. Just pop on her head phones, lay on the sand, and embrace her lizard heratage! Also, she likes to watch her hot girlfriend do hot things like catch fish in her teeth and throw skeletons, so it’s a win win.

❤️ Naturally, this means a lot of her and Undyne’s date end up at the beach one way or anouther. Every time they go now, Alphy makes a point of collecting a seashell. They all hang on a string over her bed, it’s her favorite part of the room.

❤️ More times than not, if the sand is particularly nice and warm, Alphys falls asleep on it. Like, hard core passed out asleep. She just loves the fluffy parts of the sand so much??? And it’s so comfortable??? And she’s gotten more than afew overheating from sleeping ALL day, but she can’t help herself. It’s just too cozy!

❤️ Her favorite thing about the ocean is always going to be seeing Undyne’s smile though. She loves it. She loves the way her girlfriend’s kisses taste after she’s been in the sea. She loves how content the girl is after a good swim, and how cuddly they get in the living room. She loves smelling the air and holding her hand and seeing the sun on the water. She wants to spend forever in her arms, on the sand, eating nice cream and watching the sun set.

Mettaton

❤️ So. He’s a robot. Alphys is currently working on waterproofing his body, but until then he’s shore bound. That doesn’t mean he won’t done his best sun hat and glasses, steal a life gaurd’s chair, and pose dramatically on the beach though!

❤️ Truth be told, he actually quite enjoys long walks on the beach. His boots are well protected enough to go a way into the water as well, so he takes them sometimes with Alphys. Also, night time on the beach holds SPECTACULAR song writing material! There’s something so inspirational about the atmosphere.

❤️ That being said, summer concerts are the bomb. Litterally. There’s pyrotechnics. He’s not as big a star as he was in the underground, but some local beach performances are well within his pay grade. The thrill of the stage! The cries of the people! The personality and connection to his adoring fans! The one time he crowd surfed! The fashion! It’s all just perfect!

❤️ He also frequents beach side shops, thanks to the atmosphere and outfit selection. One can NEVER go wrong with a floppy hat and a sheer coverup. It’s just impossible.

❤️ He relates WAY too hard to the little mermaid, both in the original story and Disney. There’s just something that hits too close to home about longing for humanity and a new, more comfortable body... He gets Ariel man, he gets her.

Asgore

❤️ He likes to go on long morning walks on the beach alone. There’s something comforting about the sun rise and the sound of the waves rolling around him. There’s something even more sweet about the rare conversations, only lasting a hello and small talk, all few and far between. Sometimes he finds himself wishing he had a dog to walk with him, but in the end decides against it. He’s been alone a long time, he can last one more day.

❤️ He really enjoys going shelling. Sometimes, he even likes to paint his finds and put them up in his windows. Frisk helps him, he likes that.

❤️ He’s become a vollenteer to help find and aid sea turtles’ hatch sites. He loves watching them hatch and get to the sea safely. Though he’s not supposed to, he’ll protect them from the gulls.

❤️ Thanks to being in so close to the sea, he had a brief phase of being rather in love with verities of seaweed and kelps. He tried to keep afew using water tanks, but could never quite get them right. Ah well, at least the petunias and roses are doing nicely.

❤️ He has a hard time reading or watching things about mermaids. They make him sad.

#undertale #whole cast #Asgores section made me tear up a lil ngl #I love him so much #Also!!! Fun fact of the day!!!#A lot of the stuff put on Undyne’s section are based on my own experiences and feelings! minus the breathing under water parts tho #I just. love the ocean man.#Can you tell I wanted to be a mermaid as a kid?#Because I wanted to SO bad #long post

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writingfeatherduster · 3 years

Note

Idk if this is a good prompt but im always a sucker for clothes swap fluff so 👉👈 smth with grillby wearing sans’ jacket maybe?

This is so freaking cute. I might have to write like, three alternate versions of this.

Once again, I think I strayed a bit from expectation writing this one. Also, it’s entirely off-season. And I think I got a bit sloppy at the end, so I apologize for that. If you can’t tell, I don’t think very highly of my own writing. In any case, here’s the one-shot that nearly turned into multiple chapters!

Grillby Looks Good In Blue

Word count: 4961 Summary: When it’s revealed that Grillby doesn’t have a Halloween costume, Frisk comes up with a great idea.

Grillby had never been particularly festive. Even after opening his new bar on the surface, the ‘holiday spirit’ people talked about continued to elude him. The older members of his family didn’t celebrate many holidays, and what celebrations they did have were never more than another family gathering. He enjoyed them, of course. Any opportunity to see his brothers and niece was a welcome one! But he’d never decorated his bar or hosted any sort of seasonally themed party. So, when he learned about the human holiday of ‘Halloween’, he didn’t plan to come up with a costume.

(He planned to close early and hand out candy, of course. He had a soft spot for children.)

The night before Halloween, Grillby’s bar was lively with excited monsters and humans alike. The anticipation for the big night was palpable as people chattered among themselves, talking about their costumes, the best places to get candy, and parties that were going to be held. The sun had only just started to set when the bell above the door rang, a familiar family of monsters entering with a single human child.

“Welcome back,” Grillby greeted with a small smile. The whole gang was there- Toriel, Frisk, Alphys, Undyne, Papyrus, Sans… even Asgore was there. Sans and Frisk made a beeline for the bar while the rest of the group discussed seating arrangements. Grillby started pouring a glass of apple juice for Frisk automatically, placing it in front of them as the child struggled up onto a barstool. “It’s good to see you all again. What’s the occasion?”

Sans shrugged and hopped up into his usual seat. “Well, we’re gonna have a little All Hallows Eve Eve party while we put the finishing touches on everyone’s costumes. Thought that since we’re all here, it’d be nice to go out to eat together. It was mostly Frisk’s idea.”

Grillby chuckled. “Well, I think it was an excellent idea. Now, what can I get the two of you started with?”

The night wore on with plenty of food, drinks, and laughter as everyone caught up with each other. Frisk and Sans went back to sit with the others during dinner, but when it was time for dessert, Frisk was right back up at the bar to talk with Grillby. They were excited to tell him about their costume. “Guess what I’m going as for Halloween!” they demanded, bouncing on their stool.

Grillby set a piece of cake in front of Frisk as he carefully monitored the stool’s stability. “I don’t know, what?”

“Nooooo,” Frisk whined, “That’s not how it works! You have to guess!”

“Alright, alright.” He pretended to think for a moment, tapping his chin. “You’re going to be… adorable,” he teased, ruffling their hair.

Frisk laughed, pushing his hand away. “No, I’m not! I’m going to be scary!”

Grillby shook his head. “Forgive me for being unable to imagine that. What scary thing are you going as, then?”

Frisk was unable to contain their excitement any longer, jumping up on the stool. “I’m going to be a zombie!” they yelled. As they did, the stool teetered beneath them.

Ding! You’re blue now!

Grillby had reached out and grabbed Frisk by the shoulders at the same time Sans turned them blue and levitated them, the unbalanced stool the child was sitting on hitting the floor. Sans walked up to the bar and righted the stool, chuckling as he found a seat of his own. “Careful, kid. Don’t want you partying too hard now.”

Frisk gave both of them a sheepish grin as they were set back on their stool, looking up at Grillby. “Sorry. Anyway, as I was saying, I’m going to be a zombie for Halloween. It was Sans’s idea!” They shoveled a big bite of chocolate cake in their mouth as they looked at the skeleton.

“Yeah,” Sans said with a shrug. “I mean, a supernatural being that keeps coming back to life no matter how many times you’ve killed it? It seems appropriate.”

Grillby wasn’t sure what Sans meant by that, but at that point, he was used to it enough to not bother asking. He turned to Frisk and poured them a glass of milk to go with their dessert. “Well, make sure Sans sends me a picture. I’m sure it will look great.”

Frisk nodded eagerly, taking the glass of milk and drinking half of it in one go. Grillby offered them a napkin before they could wipe their mouth on their sleeve. Frisk took it, scrubbing at their face and smiling up at him. “So,” they asked, “What’s your Halloween costume gonna be?”

“Oh, I’m not really doing anything for Halloween,” Grillby responded as he moved to wipe some crumbs from his bar. “I will be handing out candy, though, if you’d like to stop by.”

“You don’t have a costume?!” Apparently, in Frisk’s mind, this was a horrible tragedy. “But everyone put a costume together! Even Sans made one!”

Papyrus, overhearing this, looked up from where he’d been enjoying a plate of pasta with chocolate sauce. “Wait, Sans, you actually made a costume?! I thought you said you were just going to buy one!”

Sans shrugged. “Yeah, well, everyone else was making their own. Besides, the costume I came up with is a piece of art. You can’t get that at a store.”

Frisk didn’t look impressed. “Sans, your costume is literally a shirt with the word ‘life’ written on it and a bowl of lemon drops.”

“Well, I didn’t really have much to work with. You know what they say- when life gives you lemons…”

Papyrus groaned. “SANS THAT DOESN’T COUNT AS A COSTUME AT ALL!”

Grillby chuckled from behind the bar, fond. “I think it sounds very you, Sans.”

Sans grinned up at him. “Heh, at least someone appreciates my talents. Anyway, Grillbz, the kid is right. It’s our first Halloween on the surface. You gotta do something more than just hand out candy.”

Apparently, everyone was listening at that point, because that was when Alphys stood up. “O-Oh! If, um, if you still n-need a costume, I, uh… w-well I have some material l-leftover from making mine and Undyne’s! I’m sure we can- um- c-come up with some ideas, haha…”

“That sounds like a great idea,” Toriel chimed in. “You should join us for our costume-making party tonight, Grillby. Then you can accompany Frisk with us for trick-or-treating.”

Grillby adjusted his glasses, a bit flustered by all the sudden attention. “I-i wouldn’t want to intrude…”

Undyne laughed, getting up. “Too late, fire dude! If Frisk says you need a costume, then that’s that. Now let’s close this joint and get going already!”

As Undyne and Papyrus began rounding people up and making them go home so Grillby could close the bar, the fire monster chuckled to himself. Maybe, just this once, he could have a little more fun with a holiday.

It felt odd, being in Toriel’s house. Grillby considered the others his friends, but he’d never actually hung out with any of them outside the bar before. Everyone was gathered in the living room, where multiple old bedsheets had been spread on the floor and furniture. The group spread out around the living room as they helped each put finishing touches on their designs with hot glue and paint. “The bedsheets are a clever idea,” Grillby commented lightly as he took a cup of tea from Toriel (he didn’t have the heart to tell her that he usually didn’t drink tea. It was basically just hot flavored water).

The motherly monster smiled, sitting in an armchair and watching the scene in front of her with a fond look in her eye. “Dr. Alphys suggested it. She’s very good at arts and crafts!”

“Speaking of arts and crafts,” Sans interjected from his spot on the couch, “It’s time to figure out what Grillby’s costume is going to be.”

Alphys had a lot of ideas. “Oh! Y-you could go as a gender-bent v-version of Sailor Mars! Or maybe, um, if you c-can burn blue for- for the evening you could go a-a-as Rin Okumura from Blue Exorcist! Oh, I b-bet you could m-make a great Kyoya! Uh, from O-ouran Highschool Host Club?”

...Grillby didn’t understand what she said, but was flattered anyway. Kind of.

Sans decided to step in and rescue Grillby before Alphys put him in cat ears. “While those are all good ideas,” he said thoughtfully, “Maybe we should think of something that we can, y’know, throw together overnight? Plus I’m pretty sure all those characters wear like fancy clothes and stuff. That’s what Grillby wears already. Hardly counts as a costume.”

Papyrus stood up specifically so he could put his hands on his hips. “Well the whole point of a costume is to dress up for the evening! What is Grillby supposed to do? Dress down?”

That gave Frisk an idea. They got up, walking over to Grillby and pulling on his arms to make him stand up. “Come here for a second!” Then, they went and grabbed Sans, pulling him to stand next to Grillby. Frisk took a couple of steps back, rubbing their chin in thought as they inspected the two side-by-side. Apparently, they liked what they saw, because they smiled. “Hey Sans, do you mind if I change your costume a bit?”

“Uhhh, what are we talking about when we say ‘a bit’?” Sans asked, unsure of where Frisk was going with this.

Alphys seemed to catch on, because anyone who has read lots and lots of fanfiction can guess where this is going. “Ohhhh, that’s g-genius, Frisk! But, u-um, Grillby’s a lot taller than Sans.”

Frisk’s smile only widened, the plan coming together in their mind. “Sans’s jacket is big enough! And I’m sure we can find him a white T-shirt that’s big enough!”

The skeleton waved a hand at them, interrupting. “Sans’s jacket is big enough for what?”

Frisk and Alphys shared a mischievous look. Sans looked up at Grillby (who was still confused and clueless) and came to a terrible realization.

He was going to have to tie his shoes for once.

“Do I really have to keep the shirt tucked in?”

“Yes! Grillby always has his shirt tucked in!”

“A-and don’t- don’t slouch. You have to, um, g-get into character!”

“When did this go from a Halloween costume to full-on cosplay?”

Sans tugged at his suspenders as he inspected the completed outfit. Somehow, Frisk and Alphys had managed to find a white button-up, dress pants, and dress shoes to fit Sans. Grillby’s suspenders could be adjusted down to fit Sans, and bowties tended to be one-size-fits-all, so Sans got to wear the real deal in those departments. Finally, Toriel had taken the lenses out of an old pair of reading glasses she didn’t use and set the frames on Sans’s skull (Frisk taped the sides since Sans didn’t have ears).

The skeleton couldn’t help chuckling. “Man, no wonder Grillby is pretty fit. Getting dressed in this stuff is a whole workout.” It didn’t look bad, though. He glanced upstairs, where Papyrus and Toriel had whisked Grillby away for his ‘transformation’. Sans had already managed to get fully dressed, and his usual outfit was way simpler than Grillby’s. What was taking so long?

The others seemingly had the same thought. Undyne crossed her arms, walking to the base of the stairs. “HEY PAPYRUS! WHAT’S THE HOLD UP?!” she yelled through the house.

Papyrus cracked the door to Toriel’s room open for a moment. “JUST BE PATIENT, UNDYNE!”

Toriel pushed the door the rest of the way open, sighing. “Please, both of you, no shouting in the house. We… had a minor issue with finding a T-shirt, is all. Grillby is changing in my bathroom, he’ll be down in a moment.”

Just then, Papyrus spotted Sans, eyesockets widening. “OH MY GOD! Sans, you actually have style for once!”

“Heh, thanks, I guess…” Sans felt nervous, for some reason. What if Grillby thought he looked dumb? What if Grillby got really uncomfortable with this idea? What if he got mad? Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to force him to-

The door to Toriel’s room opened again, a warm light filling the hall. If Sans could have blushed, he would have.

Sans’s shorts were wide enough around the waist to fit Grillby, although they didn’t quite go down to his knees. The old white shirt Toriel had found him was a bit more form-fitting than the ones Sans usually wore, clinging near his waist and the center of his chest. Amusingly, Sans’s slippers were a bit too big on the fire monster, if the way he had to shuffle in them to get them to stay on was any indication. What got Sans, though, was the jacket.

Sans’s hoodie fit Grillby perfectly.

Grillby had shot Papyrus a questioning look when he was handed Sans’s jacket, still unsure about the whole thing. “Will this even fit me?” he asked skeptically. “I’m quite a bit taller than Sans.”

“Well, it’s very big on Sans,” Toriel pointed out. “Just try it on. I’m sure we can go find a cheap blue hoodie in the morning to complete the look if that doesn’t fit.”

Papyrus nodded. “Or if it smells too much like ketchup for you to bear!”

The bartender still wasn’t sure, but it couldn’t hurt to just try it on, right? Blushing a bit under the attention the other two were giving him, he shrugged on the blue jacket. Papyrus was right, it did smell a little like ketchup. But…

As the weight of the fabric settled around his shoulders, something in Grillby relaxed. The fabric that lined the inside of Sans’s jacket was surprisingly soft, and the sleeves were just long enough that if Grillby wanted to, he could pull them over his hands. The fire monster’s face grew hotter, a bright blush spreading across his cheeks. He was wearing Sans’s clothes. He was wearing Sans’s jacket. He wrapped his arms around himself without thinking, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. When he opened them again, he found that Toriel and Papyrus were both staring at him. He shifted a bit, fiddling with the hoodie strings. “...wh-what? Is something wrong?”

After a long moment, Toriel smiled, raising a hand to her mouth in an attempt to hold back laughter. Papyrus tilted his head, entirely bemused. “Grillby, why did you turn blue? Is it that overwhelming? I told Sans he needed to wash that old thing more often!”

Toriel lost her composure, laughing softly. “That’s not what it means when a fire monster turns blue, Papyrus.”

“W-wait, I’m what-?!” Grillby ran back into Toriel’s bathroom. Sure enough, the blush on his cheeks had turned a vibrant blue, along with some of the flames that made up his hair. “Oh. Oh no.”

“‘Oh no’ what?! I don’t understand! Ms. Toriel, why are you laughing?!” Papyrus frowned, unhappy at being left out of the loop.

Toriel was all too happy to clarify. “Fire monsters blush differently than other monsters. The flames that make up their faces change temperature depending on the emotion. When they’re embarrassed, they may turn red. When flustered, a brighter orange. The most dazzling display, though, is when a fire monster is-”

“You can’t tell Sans!” Grillby suddenly cried out, nearly shouting it. He went back into the bedroom, willing himself to calm down. “Fuck, I can’t let him see me like this…!”

Toriel decided to let the language slide, focusing on calming Grillby down. “It’s alright,” she said soothingly, “We won’t tell him. You should tell him yourself.”

Grillby shook his head. “No, no no no no no. Sans can’t know about this. It’s entirely inappropriate, and it would ruin everything we already have-”

Toriel held up a hand to stop him. She tilted her head a bit, concerned. “Now why would it be inappropriate? You’re adults. If you both consent to a relationship, there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Don’t phrase it like that,” Grillby groaned. “It’s- I’m a fire elemental and he’s a skeleton. We’re not going to be compatible.”

Toriel frowned at that. “Now that’s an outdated mindset and you know it,” she huffed. “You like him, don’t you? I’m sure even if he didn’t like you that way, you could still be friends after telling him.”

“Like him in what way?!?!” The Great Papyrus interrupted, starting to get irritated that the author seemed to keep forgetting he was there.

Toriel looked at Papyrus, then sighed, smiling a bit as she looked back at Grillby. Grillby groaned again, hanging his head in defeat. “Fire monsters turn blue,” he mumbled, “When they’re in love.”

Papyrus took a moment to process that. Grillby was in love… he’d turned blue when he put Sans’s jacket on… Oh! The pieces clicked in his skull. “HOLY FU-”

“LANGUAGE!”

Grillby took a deep breath as he walked down the stairs, trying to stay calm and, more importantly, stay cold. Sans would probably say I just need to ‘chill out’. Or be ‘cool’, Grillby thought to himself, his awkward smile becoming a bit more genuine in amusement. He stepped into the living room, holding his arms out in a sort of ‘Ta-da!’ motion. Frisk started clapping while Alphys took pictures, both of them far more excited about the outfit change than they should have been.

“Well if it isn’t the ‘hottest’ new fashion trend, Grillby casual.”

Sans caught Grillby’s attention, the fire monster turning to look at him. “Ha, funny, Sans,” is what he said on the outside. On the inside, he was screaming. Stay chill stay chill stay chill stay chill god damn it now that terrible joke is stuck in my head holy shit just stay chill!

“Y-you look nice,” Grillby managed to stammer out. “I never thought I’d see you wear a tie that wasn’t printed on the shirt.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Sans replied with a wink. “So I guess it’s decided then? We’re going as each other for Halloween?”

Grillby nodded, barely trusting himself to speak. “I suppose so…”

Frisk jumped up on the couch. “WHICH MEANS YOU HAVE TO GO TRICK OR TREATING WITH US!!”

The next several minutes were filled with Toriel lecturing Frisk about jumping on furniture and yelling in the house.

The next day, the whole group met at Grillby’s to get ready, taking advantage of the fact that the restaurant had a total of four bathroom stalls. Grillby volunteered to put his costume on last, soul thrumming with anxiety. He was sure that the evening was going to be the hardest evening of his life (oh, the things he put himself through for Frisk’s sake).

Grillby was far from unaware of his feelings for Sans. He’d had a bit of a crush for a long time, and in the time since they’d been released from the Underground, that affection had only grown. There was just something about the skeleton that made him want to sit and talk with him forever. It would never work out, though. Relationships were complicated, and Grillby didn’t want to mess up what he already had. If he made a move and it didn’t work out, it would be hard to go back to just being friends. Needless to say, Sans’s new ability to turn Grillby’s flames blue without even being in the room was a huge problem.

“Hey fire dude, your turn!” Undyne pulled Grillby from his thoughts, thrusting the bartender’s costume into his arms. “Hurry up and get changed! It’s almost time to get going!”

Grillby nodded, a bit overwhelmed all of a sudden. “R-right. I’ll be back in a moment.”

He took his time getting dressed, carefully monitoring his temperature. For the most part, he was fine. He could forget that he was dressed as his favorite skeleton, even be amused by it. There was no problem at all… until he got to the jacket.

Slipping on Sans’s hoodie, Grillby felt his temperature immediately rise. He was never cold, but he could still appreciate that the jacket was comfortably warm. Between the smell and the weight, if he closed his eyes he could almost imagine Sans had his arms around him.

Oh god, there was no way he was going to make it through this night.

Cautiously stepping out of the bathroom stall, Grillby looked in the mirror and confirmed what he already suspected. That bright blue tint had returned to his face. He took a deep breath, willing it away, but some of the flames that formed his hair and cheeks wouldn’t cool off. The traitorous streaks of heat flickered and Grillby felt like he was being mocked.

The door to the bathroom suddenly opened and Grillby panicked, pulling up the hood of the and ducking his head to hide his face. Glancing to the side, he wanted to scream. Of course, it was Sans.

Sans looked worried, dress shoes clicking on the tile floor as he walked over. “You okay, Grillbz? You’ve been in here for a while. I was starting to get worried.”

“I-i’m fine,” Grillby stammered, turning to look at the wall, the counter, anywhere but at Sans. “I’m just nervous. It’s the first time I’ve participated in something like this.”

Sans chuckled, a gentle sound that soothed some of Grillby’s nerves. “C’mon, you can’t mess up Halloween. Just ‘chill’ out and enjoy yourself.”

Sans was right. There wasn’t any reason to be this worked up. So long as he focused on the festivities, Grillby didn’t run any risk of being flustered again. “Alright. I’ll be out in a moment.” He straightened up, looking in the mirror again and sighing in relief. For now, the blush was gone.

Later that evening, the Halloween festivities were in full swing. Monster and human children alike were wandering up and down the streets with their parents, laughing and playing as their buckets and bags slowly filled with sweets. Frisk insisted on dragging as many people as they could up to each door with them, insisting that, “Larger groups of people get more candy!”

Of course, being a pretty big group of monsters, they couldn’t all fit on a doorstep at once. Instead, they all took turns. Two people would go with Frisk at a time, and the rest of them would just wave from the street.

Sans put his hands in his pockets as he watched Grillby and Asgore walk Frisk to the door of the next house, chuckling a bit as the former king stopped to admire the flowerbeds. His gaze drifted to Grillby. He’d been worried that the bartender would feel a little out of place, but he seemed to be enjoying himself, holding Frisk’s hand as the child cheered, “Trick or treat!”

The couple at the door stopped to ask about their costumes like any other house, putting a few pieces of candy in Frisk’s bag. Sans couldn’t hear what was said, but when Grillby explained his costume, whatever the couple said made him laugh. Sans smiled to himself, fond.

Undyne elbowed Sans, arching an eyebrow at him. “Dude, you’re staring again.”

Sans rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Yeah, well, he’s being really cute. Besides, anyone could appreciate a guy that hot.”

Undyne groaned. “Okay, but being serious, why don’t you just talk to him already? The guy obviously has a thing for you. Nobody would let you rack up a tab like yours if they didn’t want to cook for you all the time.”

“I know,” Sans admitted, “But he can be kinda shy. I don’t wanna scare him off by making the first move.”

She just rolled her eyes. “If he’s shy, he’s never gonna confess to you. Just go for it, man!”

Sans looked back at Grillby. In the time they’d been talking, the fire monster had picked Frisk up and put them on his shoulders, smiling as Frisk declared which house they should go to next. He was so good with the kid. He let Frisk hang out at the bar after school all the time, and he’d even helped them with their homework once or twice. The bartender was one of the sweetest guys Sans had ever met. How could the skeleton not like him? And Sans had to admit, he was getting a little impatient. “You know what? Fine,” he said, looking back at Undyne. “I’m gonna tell him.”

Undyne looked genuinely surprised. “Really?”

“Yup.”

“Tonight?”

“Right now.”

“Oh my god.” Undyne whipped out her phone, pulling up her camera. “Fucking finally. You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this. Alphys! Alphys, it’s finally happening, come help me film this!”

Sans laughed, pulling his hands out of his pockets to fidget with his suspenders. “Thanks for the enthusiasm, but this is something I kinda want to do alone? Grillby’s a private guy. You’ll make him nervous.”

Undyne groaned. “Fine, but you better tell me how it goes!”

Sans gave her a thumbs-up. “Sure thing, captain.”

“I mean it!” she emphasized, jabbing a finger at his chest. “I want every detail.”

Sans chuckled. “I’ll make sure to ‘burn’ the moment in my memory. Now get out of here, they’re coming back.”

Grillby and Asgore rejoined the group, Grillby handing Frisk off to Toriel. “I believe it’s your turn, You Majesty.”

Toriel smiled a bit. “Now what have I told you about that? It’s just Toriel now.” She turned to the others. “Sans? Would you like to come as well?”

“I’ll c-come!” Alphys quickly interjected. “We sh-should all go! Except Sans and Grillby! G-Grillby just went, and, u-um… Sans, well…”

“I’m too lazy to go all the way up to the door,” Sans finished for her. “I’ll hang back here with Grillby. You all go on ahead.”

Toriel tilted her head, trying to figure out what Sans was planning before understanding hit her. She smiled a bit and nodded. “Alright, you two. Don’t fall too far behind.”

“This won’t take very long,” Sans assured her, waving them off. Frisk lead the way, and pretty soon it was just Sans and Grillby, walking side by side in the cool autumn evening.

Grillby adjusted his glasses, glancing curiously at Sans. “...alright. What is this all about? I can tell you’re plotting something.”

Sans chuckled. “Yeah, you’ve always been able to read me pretty well.” And somehow the bartender was still totally oblivious. “I just wanted to talk with you for a minute. Just you and me.” He stopped walking, looking Grillby up and down. “...y’know, you don’t look half bad in my jacket.”

Oh god. The fear of blushing and tipping Sans off returned at full force, Grillby swallowing hard. “Th-thank you? Um, I think you look nice, too. Dressed up, I mean.”

“Eh, you pull it off better.” Sans shrugged. “You know, you’ve been kinda quiet this evening. You doing okay?”

“I’m fine,” Grillby answered too quickly. He’d honestly been avoiding talking to Sans too much. Sans was far too good at flustering him and making him laugh. “Why do you ask?”

Sans huffed, fond as he tilted his head. “Well, I’ve been thinking. Hanging out with everybody is great and all, but I’d kinda like to spend more time with just you, y’know?” He rubbed the back of his neck, a little nervous. He didn’t want to make Grillby uncomfortable by being too direct, but he couldn’t be too subtle. Otherwise, it would go over the fire monster’s head. He took a deep breath and braced himself. “I was wondering if maybe you’d like to go get breakfast or something sometime?”

Grillby nearly choked. What was Sans trying to say? Surely he wasn’t asking what Grillby wanted him to thought he might be asking. He felt his temperature rise without his permission and reflectively pulled up the hood of the jacket, covering his face with his sleeves. If anything, remembering that he was hiding in Sans’s jacket just made it worse. He tried to say something, but to his dismay, all he could get out was a flustered squeak.

That was about the reaction Sans was expecting. “Grillby? You okay?” Sans asked gently. He stepped closer, trying to move into the bartender’s field of vision.

“F-f-fine…!” Grillby managed. He was dead. He was going to die. This was a disaster.

“Heh, sure,” Sans mumbled, giving him a small smile. “Alright, if you’re gonna be shy about it, let’s try this a different way.” The skeleton reached up and gently took Grillby’s hands in his own, pulling them away. Grillby’s face was burning with beautiful shades of red, orange, and blue, all mixing together. Sans chuckled a bit, putting his hands on the bartender’s shoulders and making him lean over. “Come here, you dork.” He stood up on his toes, pulling the fire monster’s hood down as he did.

The light show when Sans kissed him was spectacular.

Papyrus, who had been watching the whole time, jumped out of the bushes. “OH MY GOD, SANS!” He was shortly followed by Undyne, Alphys, and Frisk, who were all rewatching the scene from Frisk’s phone.

“That was s-so cute!” Alphys gushed. “You’re so adorable t-together! I think it’s my new OTP.”

Grillby groaned, covering his face with one hand as Sans laughed. “I hate all of you.” He stopped as a hand slipped into his own, looking down at Sans.

Sans smiled up at him, still chuckling a bit. His gaze softened a bit as he ran his thumb over Grillby’s knuckles. “So,” he said quietly, “What do you say, firefly? Coffee this Saturday.”

Grillby smiled, finally letting himself blush without panicking. He laced their fingers together and gave the skeleton a gentle nod. “That sounds lovely.”

Thank you for reading! I hope you liked it! If you did, consider leaving me a comment to tell me your favorite part. If you want to send me a prompt, my asks are open!

#dustywrites #sans #grillby #undertale #undertale fic #oneshot #ask answered #sans undertale #grillby undertale #sans x grillby #sansby #fluff fic #this got so long #and i wrote most of it past midnight

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keelywolfe · 3 years

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FIC: Gentle Sins ch.3 (BAON)

Summary: Edge is heading back into work, but since when do his days ever go smoothly?

Tags: Spicyhoney, kustard, Established Relationships, Hurt/Comfort, Aftermath of Kidnapping

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

~~*~~

Read it on AO3

Read it here!

~~*~~

It was entirely too soon for him to be returning to work by Edge’s measure. Two days off after a kidnapping was a paltry concession and he would have preferred at least working from home for the rest of the week. The Embassy wasn’t particularly far from New New Home, but depending on traffic and stoplights, it could take nearly half an hour to drive between them, not including the time it took to get to his car.

Time enough for so many things to go wrong and for Stretch to be alone when it did.

But despite his preference, two mornings after he’d brought Stretch home, Edge was pulling into the Embassy parking lot and ignoring the shouts of the protestors on the other side of the street as he walked in, though he didn’t extend his cane until he was inside the front entrance.

The issue at hand was not with his employment. Stretch was the one all but pushing him out their front door and he’d done so with a massive spew of words coupled with wild gestures, all of which boiled down to him not needing a babysitter while he was at home.

Edge didn’t have the soul to argue with him about it, particularly since he was right. There were already enough new violations of his boundaries, and past experience taught that he would start to chafe under them soon enough. Perhaps it was already beginning; exhausted as he was, he’d still slept restlessly the night before and while Stretch often tossed and turned, this time it was enough to disturb Edge’s own sleep, his subconscious crying out that this was not a familiar level of thrashing.

He’d still been in bed when Edge left though not asleep, muttering something about heading down to his lab to check on his experiments. Edge hoped that he did; if he could get absorbed in his own version of mad science, it would be a good distraction for the day, one that was very much needed. Red was supposed to stop by at some point about the bodyguard assignment and while Edge asked his brother to wait for him to get home, there was no telling if he would. If he deemed Edge’s presence unnecessary, Red would do as he liked and to hell with waiting for his brother.

With that in mind, Edge’s plan was to work as swiftly as he could today without sacrificing accuracy so that he could leave on time, perhaps even early, in an effort to thwart anything Red might attempt for his own amusements. But as so often happened, plans had a way of changing and in very unexpected ways.

When he’d arrived at the Embassy that morning, he’d been hyperaware of the stares that followed behind him from the moment he came through the door. From the security guard at his station to the interns to the janitors, eyes and whispers lingered in his wake. Whatever hopes he’d had for discretion about the kidnapping incident were quickly dismissed; it was obviously the talk of the office though no one was bold enough to confront him about it directly. As Red often said, ‘the only way to keep a secret is if ya kill the guy who told ya’ and considering how many witnesses were at the bar that night when Stretch and Jeff were taken, that option was not exactly feasible, if it ever was.

The local news was plastered with stories, some sticking with the one provided by the Embassy and others filled with wild speculations. Monsters were hardly immune to gossip and Stretch often featured on both sides of the rumor equation.

As for his usual partner in crime, Jeff was taking the week off and Antwan with him, and while Edge could appreciate the urge to get back to some form of normalcy, he couldn’t help a twinge of jealousy to think the two of them were probably curled in bed together sleeping while he was fending off the glares of his co-workers.

He deliberately kept his limping pace normal on his way to his office, refusing to give the gossip any further fuel. That worked well enough until he went inside. Janice was already at her desk and she looked up when he entered, her long ears swiveling in his direction and her pink nose twitching as she gave him a narrow look.

He wondered if she was disappointed in him for coming in today. The thought made him want to look away from her direct gaze and he forced himself not to, saying crisply, “Good morning.”

But perhaps he was only projecting his own troubled thoughts because Janice only replied with a certain gentle concern, “Good morning. How is Stretch doing?”

Yes, the gossip traveled quickly, indeed. Edge hesitated, then said with cautious honesty, “He’s doing better.”

She nodded and didn’t press. Absently, she reached out to straighten the picture frame on her desk of her two children. Edge understood the impulse. “If you need anything, either of you, please do let me know.”

“I will,” Edge said. He meant it. Somehow in the past year their relationship had gone from a strictly working one to something akin to friends, a change that came about right around the time he’d married Stretch. Another way his love had changed his life for the better.

Still, it was a relief for her expression to change in a flash from motherly concern to businesslike briskness. “I’ve already emailed your agenda for the day, nothing particularly robust, but you do have a meeting in an hour with Toriel.”

“Toriel.” Edge blinked in surprise. Technically, Toriel didn’t work for the Embassy in a similar way to Stretch. She acted as Frisk’s guardian, and while she certainly handled things she likely shouldn’t at her own discretion, they were the diplomat, not her. What could she want to discuss that she couldn’t have come to their home?

He set his laptop case down and dug out his phone, opening the email app and scrolled to his daily agenda to scan the list. The schedule said only, ‘Meeting with Toriel, 10am’ and gave no clues. “Did she happen to say what it was about?”

Janice shook her head. “I’m afraid not, she only contacted and asked for an appointment. I couldn’t think of a reason not to, so I gave her the first available timeslot.” Her voice uplifted at the end, turning the statement into a question.

“Of course you should,” Edge said, belatedly, “I’m perfectly willing to talk with her. I’m simply confused as to why.”

Janice offered him a faint smile and raised eyebrows. “I suppose in an hour you’ll find out.”

“I suppose I will,” Edge sighed. He picked up his laptop and headed into his office, already considering whether to brave the gauntlet again for a cup of coffee or to relinquish is pride and ask Janice to retrieve one. He wasn’t particularly in the mood for any surprises and a meeting with the former Queen would likely offer them, in spades.

~~*~~

If there was one thing to appreciate about meeting with Toriel, it was her promptness. At precisely 9:59 am Janice buzzed him that she’d arrived.

Edge took a moment to drain the last of the lukewarm coffee from his cup, brought to him by Janice without any prompting from him, further proof of what an excellent assistant she was. He saved the document he was working on before he replied, “Send her in.”

He’d hardly finished speaking when his door opened, Toriel’s bulk filling the entryway. She had to duck her head to fit through the entrance, barely missing bumping her horns on the trim.

“Please, come in,” Edge said. He ignored his cane where it leaned against the side of his chair and instead walked cautiously as he came around it. He gestured to the sofa rather than the chairs at his desk; Toriel was not a small Monster, but his office was designed for visits with everyone, up to and including Asgore himself.

“Thank you,” Toriel said. Her voice was soft enough that it seemed one should strain to hear it, and yet it still carried clearly through the room. She seated herself where he’d indicated, folding her lightly furred hands into her lap.

Edge hadn’t spent a great deal of time with Toriel outside of Embassy functions and the few times he’d traveled along with the diplomats. Even then, he’d kept a cautious distance from her. Despite the small glasses perched on her muzzle, her soft purple dress and motherly cardigan she wore, as a Boss Monster, there was a certain aura of power that she carried that no casual outfit could stifle. Her status might be simply as Frisk’s guardian, but even Humans couldn’t fail to notice it. Adding in that Edge had no basis of comparison with her counterpart in Underfell, put simply, she made him faintly uncomfortable, despite the common interest in puns she shared with several members of his family.

“Would you like a drink?” He barely caught himself before asking if she’d care for tea, already knowing the answer to that. She and Stretch should be closer friends, they could bond over their mutual dislike of the King. “Water? Fruit juice?”

“Water would be lovely,” Toriel said. The words were merely polite, he sincerely doubted she’d come here for refreshments.

From the small fridge in the corner, he retrieved a bottle of water. He set it on a coaster rather than hand it to her and took the seat across from her, folding his hands into his lap in an unconscious mirror of hers. “What can I do for you?” Edge asked.

Without preamble, Toriel said, “You saved my child’s life, and mine.”

That was far from any topic he’d expected she wanted to discuss. If anything, he’d supposed she might wish for more personal information regarding the kidnapping and rather than trusting the gossips, she’d gone to a reliable source. That she might want to talk about their last meeting hadn’t even occurred to him.

The incident in California was not so long ago and yet, despite his lingering scars, the event itself had mostly left his mind. Yes, it was traumatic and yes, he’d certainly be feeling the aftereffects for some time. But it wasn’t his way to linger over such things; it happened, it was over, and now there was only to move onto introducing new safeguards to keep such a thing from happening again.

He considered Toriel’s statement with care before offering cautiously, “Anything I could do to keep you and your child safe, I was willing to offer.”

“I’m sure you were, and are.” Toriel’s eyes were a shade of red unlike his own eye lights. In a way, they were more like Red’s and his way of seeing things deeper than should be possible. “And I am willing to offer my own gift for that kindness. I’ve noticed your leg is still troubling you.”

Edge struggled against shifting uncomfortably, forcing himself not to look down at the leg in question. He was wearing the brace today as he always did in the office, not because he thought he particularly needed it, but due to his suspicions that Janice would discreetly tattle to Stretch if he didn’t. It was a tradeoff for leaving their strictly business relationship behind. “It’s healing, it simply takes time.”

“Indeed,” Toriel inclined her head in agreement. “I’d like to help you, if you’ll allow it. It wouldn’t begin to pay my debt to you but—”

“Your Highness,” Edge interrupted gently, “you don’t owe me anything. I’m well aware that you saved my life after the explosion.”

“I’m no longer the Queen, Toriel is fine,” Her interruption was less gentle and for one who claimed no title, her tone made him want to straighten his spine and come to attention, a habit he’d thought gone along with Underfell. “And your life wouldn’t have needed saving if you hadn’t saved mine.”

“Toriel,” Edge said deliberately, “if you’re offering to heal me, I have a doctor, they’ve done as much with healing magic as they can.”

“I’m sure they have. Which is why I’m offering. My skills are somewhat more…” she hesitated, settling on, “Robust, than other Monsters.”

As a Boss Monster, that was surely true, and Edge couldn’t help considering it.

She’d used her magic on him before, and while that was an emergency, he could hardly protest her doing it again. And what she was offering was gift unlike any other. The opportunity to be healed, to be able to return to his normal activities was tempting to be sure, but what irritated more was his brother keeping him at arm’s-length during the kidnapping. If he’d been more capable, if his leg wasn’t slowing him down, would Red have forced him to stay home instead of allowing him to provide some real assistance? There was no way to tell now, but if he could keep it from happening in the future…?

But Edge also knew that things that seemed too good to be true often were and that there was little in life that came without some sort of price attached. He’d gotten such a gift from the Angel already, if one believed in such things, in the love given to him by Stretch. Asking for more seemed greedy.

Toriel only waited serenely, perhaps understanding his inner turmoil.

“There’s no chance this could have a negative effect,” Edge said slowly. “I’ve made a great deal of progress already, I won't have it set back."

“None at all,” Toriel assured him. “I wouldn’t offer if there was even a chance.” She shifted in her seat, briefly looking away as if his bookcases had suddenly caught her interest. “I would have offered sooner but you must understand, this sort of healing is very draining. If it got out I could do this, Monsters would be lining up at my door, begging for treatment.” She shook her head, her mouth pulling downward unhappily, and suddenly she seemed older and weary. “I can only do as much as I can.”

“I understand.” He did. It was the same reason they’d chosen to keep Monsters’ ability to heal from the Humans. There were limits to the care anyone could provide. Still, his immediate impulse to agree warred with his cautious reluctance. “Then why now?”

“Why not now?” Toriel countered. She spread her empty hands in something like a plea. “I can’t heal every Monster, but what point is it for me to have these gifts if I can’t use them to help someone who was injured by helping me? I owe you a debt, Edge, and I mean to pay it.”

The steel in her voice resonated and the determined need to repay a debt was certainly something he could understand. Edge straightened and inclined his head formally, “I accept your offer.”

A smile lit Toriel’s face and that melancholy fell away as she clapped her hands together like a child rather than the powerful, centuries-old Monster that she was. “Wonderful! Let’s get started, then, shall we?”

“Now?” Edge said, surprised. He’d expected her to need to make some preparations, perhaps arrange for a secret meeting someplace out of the way and not well watched. If there was such a place when one considered his brother.

But Toriel only nodded. “Oh, yes. It won’t take long.”

She rose from the sofa and crouched down next to him. A bit nonplussed, he helped her unbuckle the splint and remove it, and as always, there was a slight, uncomfortable twinge with its support gone. Worse was the awkward intimacy in the way she settled her hands on his leg, even over his trousers, her fingers shifting into precise positions as she closed her eyes and summoned her magic.

Edge had been healed before, too many times to count. Rarely in Underfell, healing there was usually scoffed at and often considered a weakness as it was a difficult skill for those with LV. But in this universe, Stretch, Blue, even Toriel herself had healed him in the past, little wounds mostly, except for California.

He hadn’t been in a position to pay attention the last time she’d used her magic on him, drifting in and out of consciousness, but here there was nothing to distract him. Her magical signature was a deft one, not the brusque force of his brother or familiar honeyed languidness of Stretch or even Blue, who managed to somehow be both forceful and nearly timid at the same time. The greenness of healing came at a delicate trickle at first, seeking and finding the places in his leg that still ached with cunning skill, sinking in. In tiny increments, that trickle became a flood, and then a torrent, and the sensation was indescribable. Not pain, that was far too simple a word, but the deep power that carried healing into his leg and further, seeking out his very essence. Edge shied away instinctively as it sought out his soul, trying to escape that implacable, almost ethereal touch, but it didn’t invade or violate, only swirled briefly through his ribcage in a sort of greeting before returning to the task at hand, or rather, at leg, before it slowly withdrew into empty nothingness.

Edge opened his sockets, hardly aware of closing them, to see Toriel closing her own eyes as she wobbled on her feet, sinking back to sit on the floor with her legs tucked under her and her skirt demurely covering them.

“Your Highness,” Edge said in concern. He reached for her automatically, hesitating before touching her. Even though his gloves he could still feel the aura of roused magic surrounding her.

She opened her eyes. “Toriel,” she corrected with a slight smile, waving his hands away. She retrieved the bottle of water from the table, opening it and taking a long drink, then sighed out, “I’m fine. How are you?”

In answer, Edge stood, striding across the room and back again. The lingering weakness and frustrating ache of the past weeks were entirely gone. The urge to tests his limits was strong and he wondered giddily what anyone would make of it if they caught him racing up and down the stairwell with his coattails flapping behind him.

As if reading his thoughts and perhaps she was to some extent, they wouldn’t be difficult to guess, Toriel cautioned, “I suggest you wear the brace for a little longer. It might keep the curious from asking questions.”

Edge was about to agree, then amended it, “I won’t lie to Stretch. If he asks.”

To his surprise, Toriel let out of a peal of soft laughter and shook her head. “I wouldn’t worry about that. He’ll know the moment he sees you.”

That he hadn’t expected and Edge could only stare at her, aghast, “What?

Her smile turned incredulous. "You have my magic clinging to you, do you truly think he won't notice? Papyrus of all people?"

He wasn’t quite sure what she meant by that and he wished he'd known before he agreed. Well, it was too late to change anything now, wasn’t it, and that was a meal he’d have to swallow when it came to the table.

Belatedly, he realized Toriel was attempting to climb up from the floor and he hastily leaned down to help. Her weight was easily triple his own but between the two of them, they managed to get her back on her feet.

“Well!” Toriel said with a soft sigh as she dusted off her dress. “I’ll leave you to your duties, then. I need to get back to Frisk, they have a meeting this afternoon with the Prime Minister of Japan, and I wanted to brush up on the agenda.”

“Yes, of course, your—Toriel,” Edge correctly hastily. He couldn’t help flexing his knee again, still giddy with the pain-free movement of the joint. “Thank you, Toriel. This means a great deal to me, past simply healing.” She’d already turned to the door and paused, turning back to him.

There was a certain familiar impishness to her smile as she said, “If you truly wanted to thank me, you could try calling me Tori.”

In answer, Edge only bowed deeply to her and said, sincerely, “I’m afraid the attempt would be too much for me and might undo all the damage you healed. I would hate to be the cause of ruining all your hard work.”

Her soft laughter washed over him in a gentle wave and she shook her head. “Well, we wouldn’t want that, would we.” Her amused expression shifted to seriousness, “And Edge? Anything I could do to help you, I was willing to offer.”

Edge inclined his head in wry acknowledgement and with a last smile, she went out the door, leaving him alone in his office. Alone with his leg in perfect working condition and itching to be used.

A jog up the stairs might be out of the question, but there was no reason he couldn’t walk down to get another cup of coffee. With the brace on for now, and by next week? Perhaps he could risk going without, at least in the morning, if the stares died down by then. Time would tell.

He sat down to strap the blasted thing back on, its lack of necessity making it all the more annoying.

Soon, he told himself, soon.

Despite the events of the past few days, Edge felt lighter than he had in weeks. He only hoped Stretch’s reaction would be as pleased as his own.

Once the brace was properly on, Edge retrieved his cup from his desk and went down the hallway to the breakroom to fill it, giving Janice’s curious glance a sedate nod and careful to keep his steps slow and measured so as to not rouse any suspicions.

On the leg brace he would concede, an annoying necessity to be sure. But the cane? That, he left behind.

tbc

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #by any other name

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jamestrmtx · 3 years

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Fairytale Complex - [Undertale | Sans x Reader]

[Gender Neutral, Frisk's Parent Reader]

Chapter One | Home

[Previous] | [Next]

(Author Note, written in November 2020 and updated on May 2021: For those who've already read the prologue, two changes happened: [1] the story title went from Goodnight, Starlight to Fairytale Complex, and [2] since this's a rewrite of an older work, the main/focus relationship would now be Sans, but there will still be alternate relationships, other main four being Papyrus, Muffet, Grillby, and Napstablook! More info on that can be found on Chapter Sixteen | Dummy! (Part 3 of 3).)

• • •

Your phone lights up and buzzes erratically, waking you up and forcing you to get out of bed when it proves to be too far away for you to reach it. The screen marks an unholy five thirty five in the morning, and you can only wonder over what your aunt wants to discuss with you at such an early hour. There's around two urgent voicemails, eleven text messages, and three missed calls, all from her, so you decide on phoning her back to get things over with.

She answers fast, hardly giving the phone a chance to beep once.

"Turn on the TV right now, honey," your aunt shouts, an indistinguishable emotion between anger and shock displayed in her voice. "Now," she repeats, authority shown in that single word. "And don't forget to call me later. We need to talk." She hangs up after that, leaving you with more questions than you once had.

You raise a brow at the oddity of her call, yet relent with how tired both your mind and body feel. You'd left work at eleven at night, only to arrive home at midnight and fall asleep at one. With barely five hours of rest in your system, you don't exactly feel motivated to watch television, yet that changes when you sit at the edge of your bed, turn it on, and see the first thing there is a breaking news report taking over every cable channel present. No matter which one you switch to, it's there, reporting over the rise of a whole new species of living beings, these capable of human reasoning and conduct, as one of the reporters and even a scientist so claimed based on the little information they've both gathered about the species already. They proceed to display a picture of a large crowd of people gathered near a mountain, these looking straight out of a fantasy novel. They vary greatly, from bipedal, anthropomorphic fish, bears, bunnies, goats, and spiders, to living skeletons, ghosts, and live, humanoid flames. You have to rub sleep away from your eyes and blink a few times to process what's going on, until you see who's standing smack in the middle of them all.

"F- Frisk?!" you shout, breaking the silence of your home and the night.

Almost immediately, you pick up your phone and search for more information on where and when the picture was taken. The sun seemed to be setting in it, and based on when the news had chosen to report on the event, you figure Frisk has to be with that group somewhere around. You access the news channel's main page and see a pinned post asking for information on the child's parents, comment section blocked to prevent a flood in them, along with the share button to keep any second parties from spreading it around more.

>> A goat lady by the name of Toriel has taken Frisk under her temporary care while authorities regain contact with the child's parents. If anyone reading this post happens to know about their location, number, or any other contact information, please do let us know over at private message, so that we may interview them personally. We have searched far and wide for more thorough information on the child, but Child Protective Services have settled upon keeping that information private, while the child refused to tell us anything else after they found out over what penalties their parents would be receiving. They insist that their primary caregiver is a good person, that they do not know about their secondary caregiver's whereabouts, and that they will not allow anything bad to happen to either of them, refusing to so much as give up their last name to us as a result. However, we are still in dire need of said information in order to interview the parents and perform more proper investigations as to why the child disappeared for a period of almost two whole months.

Below the basic gist stands a shorter paragraph and a photo of a different monster, this one a skeleton instead of a goat woman.

>> In addition to the goat lady offering to look after Frisk for the time being, another monster has reached out to us and left his number only specifically for the parents. He states it is necessary they meet and that he would like to offer an explanation as to what happened at the Underground and how Frisk got there. If you are one of the parents, please contact us through private message so that we may provide you with his number and further directions on what to do from there.

You check the time of the post, lock your phone, and set it aside when the news returns from a commercial break, this one much shorter compared to usually.

"Passerby say it sounded similar to that of a bomb going off, yet there were no signs of destruction and nobody near when they made it to the place where they heard the noise. It's estimated the Barrier broke at late evening, and that the monsters left with Frisk barely an hour after that event, without bothering to inform anyone over the missing child's arrival. Authorities claim they've yet to gain contact with Frisk's secondary caregiver and that they are now on their way to contact their primary one. Given the circumstances and the current hour, Child Protective Services believe it best to visit at noon, as they have already tracked down the parent's location and received further information on the subject through social media. That's all we've managed to cover so far, but remember to stay tuned for more at-"

“(Mom/Dad), I'm home!”

Your eyes shoot open and you almost have to double take when you hear that voice. It's followed by a few persistent knocks on the door, though you still go as far as to check the pulse on your wrist to make sure you're still alive. You turn the television off, hop out of bed, and rush over to the living room, where you're greeted with the sight of Frisk standing by the entrance and looking around, their own set of keys balanced on their finger as they take in their surroundings. They continue to look this way and that, observing the changes you've made to the house since they were gone.

They meet with your eyes and freeze up, taking a small, precautionary step forward. "I… I missed you," they mutter, voice soft and quiet, a large difference from when they announced they were back home. They fiddle with their hands and face at the floor, casting a guilty look at the worn welcome mat as they say, "I'm sorry for… for disappearing like that. But I promise I-"

Before they can finish speaking, you've already made it to their side. Your arms wrap around them and you bring them in for a strong and lasting embrace, tucking their head against your chest, squeezing them tight, and allowing them to listen to your heart beat. "Oh, sweetheart, forget all that," you reply, stroking their hair and kissing their forehead. "I… I missed you, too." You hold them tight and let some of your worries out through another squeeze. It feels almost bizarre having them in your arms again, but it feels right all the same. Every puzzle seems to fall right into place, and the only thing in your mind right now's their well-being. "H- How are you, by the way?" you ask, breaking the hug apart. "Are you hungry? ...Sleepy? And who brought you here? Did they treat you well?"

"I'm okay," they reply, giggling. "Miss Toriel made me some food before we left, and I'm way too pumped to even think about sleeping!"

"And where is Miss Toriel?"

"She left right after we got here. She said she didn't want to bother you now that I'm back, and that you could meet up with her some other time!"

You hug them yet again, still too stricken to let go of them. "I'm… I'm so glad you're back home, dear," you whisper, holding them close as you mutter more sentences with similar sentiments to the previous one. You still can't shake off your shock nor can you believe this is real. The rational part of your brain insists it's no time to be emotional and that you need answers stat, though the emotional part demands you pour all your attention onto the moment and appreciate Frisk's return. You'd cried countless hours, days, nights, and weeks. And all of that pent up regret, confusion, and relief begins to be let out through whispered words, strong hugs, and gentle caresses. "I… I thought you were gone for good, dear, an- and that you left because you hated me." You hiccup at that last statement and hold them tighter, fearing another disappearance. "I'm sorry if I ever made you feel bad about me being your (mother/father). And… And I'm sorry for anything I might've done to upset you. I- I'll try to be a better parent for you from now on, and you can tell me over where I can improve. Alright?"

Frisk breaks the hug apart and faces up at you with a frown. "What are you saying? I don't hate you, (mom/dad)!" they reply, gaze furrowed and eyes wide. "I… I was thinking about something else that day. B- But it has nothing to do with you. I promise!"

"Then why did you disappear?" you ask, placing a hand over their shoulder and maintaining your frown. "Why did you run away? ...And just what do you mean by that? What were you thinking about before you disappeared?"

Looking caught, they face the floor and fiddle with their hands again. "...Can we talk about that later? I think I'm feeling sleepy now."

Your glare finally shows through, the rational part of you taking over now. "Don't you dare change the subject, Frisk (L/N). What did you mean by that? What happened before you disappeared?"

"Please, (mom/dad)! I can tell you later," they whine, tears welling up in their eyes. "I- I don't wanna talk about that right now. I miss you. And I… I really wanna be with you right now. I really miss my home, I miss studying with you, and I... I miss going out on weekends with you, too."

You straighten your posture, cross your arms tight, and frown, still unconvinced. "Can you promise me you'll tell me first thing tomorrow, after we catch up today?"

Slowly, they nod. "I promise."

"Pinky promise?"

Frisk smiles bright and wide at your suggestion and at the gesture you make, pinky finger offered out to them. They interlock theirs with yours and let go when you both nod, sealing the deal. "I promise. Could we go watch a movie now?"

"Didn't you say you were sleepy?"

"I sleep better with the TV on!"

"Yeah, right." Despite yourself, you giggle and smile at them. Then, you place a hand on their head and mess up their hair, poking your tongue out when they glare at you. "Let's go, then. Just... Remember me to call my boss so I can take the day off today and go to work a bit later tomorrow."

"...Can you really do that? I thought you could get fired for that!"

"Probably not." You laugh. "But you're my main and only priority right now. And I can just try to find another job after all this's over with."

You offer your hand out to them and lead the way back to your bedroom when they take it. Your heart's still racing and you've yet to acknowledge the fact they're finally back with you, though your happiness continues to persist through it all; they're here and that's all that matters right now. Worry would come in later.

"Why did you move the TV to the bedroom, though?" they ask, halfway through your destination.

You squeeze their hand and stare down at them, managing a guilty and meek smile. "I, uh, might've... borrowed your dad's Netflicks password, and tried watching some movies since you went missing. I could barely sleep at night, so I just tried distracting myself by finding something new to watch." You let go, finally reaching the door of your bedroom. "I also made sure to tidy up your bedroom once a week, just in case you ever came back, so it's all nice and clean if you want to go there later," you say, smiling. "But... I'm guessing you'd want to be with me for awhile now?"

They nod, not an ounce of reluctance present in their actions. "Definitely!" They flinch back and giggle when you kiss their cheek as a response, "Can I, really?"

"As long as you fulfill your promise, then yes. You can stay in my bedroom for as long as you want, dear."

"But didn't you say I was a big kid just last year?"

"Yes, but I…" You chew on your lip and blink back tears, their return finally dawning on you. "I missed you too much to care about that right now."

You turn on the television and access Netflicks, putting on a movie and climbing into bed. They do the same and rest their head against your lap, cuddling against you. You both stay that way for the entirety of the movie, with them close and with your hand on their head, stroking their hair until they fall asleep halfway in.

When you're sure they're out like a light, you allow yourself to cry again; tears continue to go down the more time you spend with Frisk close to your side.

They were back.

Your prayers had been answered, and now you wouldn't have to lay awake at night, feeling guilty and mourning over their loss for hours on end.

Hopefully, Child Protective Services and Frisk's school would go easier on you now; despite what you said about not minding if they were taken away after their return, you do care. Now that they're back in your arms, you can't imagine not having the right to visit them again; a world without them. At that thought, sorrow overflows your mind and you find yourself crying quietly during what's left of another movie, uncontrolled yet quiet as you try not to wake or worry Frisk over your state. You needed to be strong for their sake and for your own as well, if the time to part ways from them ever became a reality.

That's the last thing you think of as you close your eyes, exhaustion finally taking your body for itself. Faint murmurs of an ongoing movie are the last things you hear and the sight of Frisk sleeping peacefully on your lap is the last thing you see. It all feels right, yet not; cherishing these final moments is the only thing you can do for now.

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#sans x reader #undertale x reader #lgbt #lgbt themes #gender neutral reader #male reader #female reader #mother reader #father reader #parent reader #chubby reader #long fic #romcom #adventure #mystery #platonic relationships #slow burn

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rataltouille · 4 years

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BONFIRE, BONFIRE!: A COLLECTION OF FLASH FICTION + POETRY

so i’ve decided to compile all twenty [these will be split into two so that the post isn’t super long] of the writing pieces i’ve done for my random celebration into one post so that it’s easier to read / access share!! you can also find it here, all put into one work, on wattpad, because i feel nostalgic about that website and decided to just post it!!

NOTE: i know that this shouldn't need to be said, but these 20 pieces belong to me so please don’t copy/repurpose it for your writing!! i plan on using these somewhere in my own writing and either way they’re stuff i’ve written so don’t use them!!

1. cooking + destructive + purple from @andiwriteunderthemoon [also i kind of cheated with this prompt and asked my sis @dreamscanbenightmarestoo for ideas and so the base idea’s from her!!]

I didn’t mean to set my house on fire, alright?

Let me set the scene: I’m sitting in my room, watching the infomercials that blur together, and suddenly there’s a bright purple flash on the glitching screen: /grapes/. They’re shiny, plump, and oh? A recipe for fine wine? Don’t mind if I do. So I pop into my kitchen and cut the grapes, dice them up, finally using the knife after years of not cooking— /mother, are you proud of me now?/— and stick the soft, luminescent fluid into a glass bottle. Following each step of the recipe.

The recipe didn’t mention an explosion.

Destruction rained around my house like a meteor shower. The bubbles from the fluid, frisking up at contact with metal, swam across my shoes and into the living room. It touched the TV, which still flashed the recipe, which I was still cursing at. And then, you know, it burnt up. The couch scorched first, I think. So that was fun. I later realised that I’d used my reserve of petroleum, which I’d put in my kitchen cabinet, instead of vinegar. I think I’ve got to move back in with my mother again.

2. running + quiet + sky blue from @kryskakikomi [i have no idea what this is i drafted this in a fever dream state]

Summer crawled up his skin like a worm. He was seated at his dining table, crosswording his way through the sticky morning, when it struck him that the humidity was new. He’d been caught in summer before, of course, but this year was different. His parents had whisked away to their hometown, and he still didn’t understand why he wasn’t allowed to go. He loved their home— he could have been running on beach sand and waves could have cruised over his feet, and his face would reflect sky blue under palm trees. Instead he sat doodling and scratching at cement walls in a quiet that nagged at his ears, grappling his flesh like a fishing hook, reeling him in. Boredom, him sister told him, before she also left for someone’s home. What would you know? he whispered once the door latched from the outside. Maybe /she’d/ like to sit on the same wooden chair, all the pink paint worn out, and scratch out squares of empty text until the pen poked through the other hand. He scoffed. At least he knew the number of scars on the wood; he could hold that over her when his parents returned.

3. hallucinate + hazy + violet from @chloeswords [i wanted to write something dreamy and ethereal but everytime i look at your url i’m reminded of church mud and indirectly my religious trauma so here we are 🤡]

We hold the book in our arms and chant for God. We don’t know what he looks like. They say that he’s sharp, never pixelating or blurring or showing through, like a hazy image would. No, children, our family says, he will come clothed in gold and velvet— the colour a deep and rich crimson, or chartreuse. And of course, he weaves a violet into his hair. Because he is just that humble. Just that gentle. Loving.

We’ve almost understood now. Pray, clasp our palms together into a transient equinox, and pray. Maybe he will shine down on us. Maybe we will speak so loud and chant so long that our lips will chap. Maybe we’ll simply hallucinate him to salve our bones. Our family says, he will bless you. And so he will.

4. halcyon + pluviophile + beige from anon [i was yearning for cats i am a cat person i love cats]

I remember my life before I moved to London,

Those halcyon days that I spent scooping up cat litter and brushing warm fur,

Being a mother to beige and white and black little felines.

They keep better company than humans.

Now I’m a self-proclaimed businesswoman, artist, influencer, pluviophile,

Even when I’ve barely stepped foot outside during the rain,

[But it needs to be said that when it rains in London, it pours].

I think I’d like to open a cat cafe;

I’m rich enough to pull it off.

5. sing + vulnerable + olive green from @occiidens [this was actually super fun to write because it’s a break from the typically unhinged stories i gravitate towards]

You watch from the highest hill of your town, hand wrapped around the serrated wood of a red oak tree. The bark pokes into your flesh, drawing blood that shouldn’t have been taken from you. You scowl. Just another thing that lives to cause you pain.

Three storeys down is a young man, short and smiling and lovely. He has dark skin and darker hair, walking with the stride of a deer, and he’s smiling; the joy reflects onto your face, even though you can’t hear him. He wears a cotton shirt, the olive green stark against the fire-blue sky. You call out, sing his name, three times in a row.

When he finally looks up, squinting as you silhouette under the sun, the smile widens. A wave. You’re suddenly overcome with embarrassment. Your palm digs into the bark until the wound is freshly dug again, the skin supple and vulnerable. You want to wave, but your hands would look so awkward, and the blood wouldn't help. So you turn on your heel and run— why are you so awkward?— and the grass around you is brighter. This is now a tomorrow issue, you conclude. You’re still smiling.

6. dislocate + ostentatious + blood red from @oasis-of-you [this got really unhinged really fast. TW: body horror]

If you take a turn at Finn Avenue,

Rogue your way down a blood red river,

[It’s not actual blood, do not worry. The colour’s a pigment and it’s saturated enough to give you the texture, the touch, the taste of blood, but I repeat, it isn’t true blood. You might think that it’s ostentatious of us to make you cross a river like that, but you’ll understand why.]

And if can stick your fingers inside the fluid,

You’ll find a bone.

Don’t pull it out fully! Only observe.

[This is a real bone, most likely animal. We may be ominous, but we don’t hurt humans. Not yet.]

So what do you do now? You want passage into a better world.

You came here because you saw the brochure, the flyer,

Radiant Idyll, home for love, but you also saw the jutting anatomy that leads to the city. The pictures were rather clear.

Why do you look so surprised? We’ve put this on the brochure— don’t you ever read the fine print?— to avoid this exact situation. That you would cross a body, a skeleton, pooled over in a fluid that we don’t name, but it’s probably alive.

It’s watching you right now.

So what do you do now?

Hurry up, unhinge your arm, dislocate the elbow, drop it into the blood, forgive me, false blood, and pay for your passage.

Oh! Excellent; that’s record time. We do hope you enjoy your stay!

1. @noteaboy [i’ve interpreted your url as ”note, a boy”]

There’s an orange tree. It’s spring, and there’s an orange tree, and it brims with fruit and citrus perfume. Point your lens flare downwards, and note, a boy. A young man, perhaps, because he combs his hair, uptight and firm, and he wears a tie. A long suit. He doesn’t look up, because his hand holds a book. /He/ holds the book, not the hands— tenderness doesn’t translate through anatomy, I’ve taught you this before. He’s waiting for someone. There’s only the rustle of leaves. He drops the book onto the lap of the tree, crushing the apple that had fallen down. Orange, not apple. Take note better. You only have one chance to get this right.

2. @eatingjupiter [your url is so beautiful omg]

The goddess had said this before she died: you need to watch over him. He needs your sentry to survive. The goddess’ words weren’t heeded. Little baby Jupiter tottered on lava as him parents small-talked with their kingdom. Well, it must have been small talk, because nothing seemed to happen afterwards other than his mother’s face collapsing in agony, anger, annoyance. He knew not to touch them then. He’d fly off into the sun one day, but if his hands were but and charred, he wouldn’t survive even a third of the journey.

The prophecy was simple: the firstborn to the kingdom will metamorph into a celestial, purify themselves so that only stardust remains. Live in the sky forever. The astrologers were baffled; you don’t just become a star. They should have heeded the goddess.

Jupiter was sixteen when he expanded and collapsed all at once. He still lives, they say, and the astrologers /were/ right, in a way: people just don’t become stars. They become almost empty space. Nobody knows if his hands were burnt when they left earth’s orbit forever.

3. @laughtracksonata [your name gave me slight horror vibes idk why!!]

Hahaha. The Horror Movie (don’t ask me for a name, I’m not good with those), with its cymbal crashing and plastic sounds, it’s so loud and scary that it hurts, father. Please turn it off.

Father doesn't listen. I shiver on the couch. The screen flickers like radio static and reflects off our wide eyes. What kind of a home is this anyway? I don’t want to fucking listen to a laugh track or a horror VHS tape or watch the bass crescendo as the serial killer jumpscares the watcher. I don’t think that having hour pupils glued to the same blood-splattered movie, with the same recording looping in his eardrums will help him. He laughs along, sometimes. It’s scary. Father needs a new hobby.

PART TWO COMING SOON!!

anyway this got REALLY long so i’m posting the third prompt group, the one based on songs, as a second part in some time. i hope you enjoy this, and PLEASE do boost!! i spent a lot of time writing these pieces and am pretty proud of them :’)

general taglist: @lovingyou-is @guulabjamuns @andiwriteunderthemoon @coffeeandcalligraphy @melonmilk @silentlylostwriter @charles-joseph-writes @eklavvya @eowynandfaramir @bitterwitchwrites @laughtracksonata @whatwordsdidnttouch @indeliblewrites @thenataliawrites @summersguilt @illimani-gibberish @sarahkelsiwrites @writing-in-delirium @shaelinwrites @sienna-writes @chewingthescenery @jennawritesstories @chloeswords @aelenko @keira-is-writing @cherylinanika @infinitely-empty-pages @jmtwrites @august-iswriting @freedelusionbanana @beetleblue88 @mistercaleb @iwannawritepls @hanwatchingmovies @mortallynuttyqueen @idratherliveinnarnia @maisulli @thegreyboywrites @ahowlinwolf @ravens-and-rivers @oasis-of-you @yanittawrites @chazza-writes-sometimes @skyfirewrites @lovebenders @treybriggsthewriter @themidnxghtwriter @ash-karter @queen-devasena @a-procrastination-addict @gaymityblight @beyondthebracken @madmaxst26 @adielwrites @moonpixxel @hollow-knight-dnd @keep-looking-here @overlap @ashleygarciawrites @ryns-ramblings @wordsbynathan @novaemlynlewis @sophiewritingstuff @howdy-writes @occiidens @nsanelyawkward @viawrites-andacts

#writeblr #am writing #flash fiction #poetry #wtwcommunity #ofcolourtracking #crabappletracking #anyway part two probably in a couple days #i still have to start writing them 🤡✌️#bonfire bonfire

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