#he's angry and he's passively suicidal - like its the only and most obvious answer to anything - and he had to do terrible things just to | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

zirkkun · 4 years

Text

The Butterfly Effect (Part 1)

x prev || next >>

The Butterfly Effect (Undertale Fanfic - overall given a AO3 M rating) Prologue

+ sans x gender neutral reader (first person POV from reader)

+ 2701 words, english

+ fluff, explaining past experience; conflict with adapting to a new environment

+ takes place in the Underground; barrier is not broken

+ part of a series I’ve been passively writing, no idea when I’ll update. only have written the first two parts but have a vagueness of the whole story outlined

+ AO3 link

It wasn't a reality I ever expected for myself, but it was happening nonetheless. The very tip of a temperate finger, silky smooth without even the texture of a fingerprint to taint it, brushed against my cheek. A smile couldn't help but curl at the corner of my lips, mirroring the permanent, toothy smile plastered on the face across from me. A chuckle surfaced from the both of us the second I reacted to his motion; I leaned forward, pressing my forehead against his. The hand against my cheek slid to the back of my neck, the thin fingers fitting perfectly between the bumps of my spine, and pulled me just that little bit more forward to where the space between us was sealed, my lips pressed against his toothy grin. There were no opposing lips to lock mine to, but I no longer minded. That wasn't what mattered. Staying at his side, feeling the tender touch of his otherwise boney and rough fingers against my skin, and cuddling with his head cozily tucked under my chin as he held me close... Intimacy didn't have to be defined by following social norms.

But of course, leave it to me for being the one strange enough to date a skeleton monster before figuring this out. I guess some people just need to find out through extreme examples, myself apparently included.

Nevertheless, I didn't worry too much about it anymore. I used to be more self conscious about it, more hatefully self aware. But between him and his brother, not to mention their friends, I grew more accustomed to the idea of living with monsters no differently than I would any of my fellow human beings. Sure, it was a bit hard to stumble through this at first, but it's not like I was alone in adjusting to this new realization or lifestyle. I was alongside the monster friends I had made, who were adjusting to me living with them in this underground kingdom they called home.

I don't remember how I fell down here. It's been far too long by now. Maybe it was an attempted suicide? I'm not sure. My life outside of this place as a whole is just a blur, but I do remember I wasn't in a place of happiness. Angry about broken societal systems, feeling unable to adjust to the way the world was built just after I finally figured out how to work with my own self, and losing hope for the bright future I was once promised as a child. It would be no surprise if that's why I wanted to leave, why I came to the place where humans were rumored to never return from. And, frankly, I can see why. I don't want to leave this place. Here, I'm free of so many of my fears and worries. I'm free of hatred, debt, betrayal, and confinement. I could do and be how I wanted. The friends and family I've gained while living here are far closer to me than any of the humans I can even vaguely remember from on the Surface. But I didn't always feel this way; it took a certain skeleton to truly convince me to stay.

Until then, I'd been desperate to leave. Afraid of where I'd ended up. There was no one of familiarity around me -- not a single human being in sight for as far as I could see. Monsters of great variety were the only living creatures down here, ones that I couldn't have thought of even for the most obscure of fantasy novels. I was scared, despite the kindness I had received. My fear peaked when I met a murderous buttercup, but slowly began to dip when my life had been saved by a kindly woman with thick fur and the complexion of an anthropomorphic goat. But it never really went away until much farther down the line. Not even through many puzzles, dates, and playful japes did I even really teeter off the edge into security.

It had been blisteringly hot; used to the moderate temperatures from above, the volcanic heat of the lava pool city was not something I could handle well. With the lights of the bright resort coming into view is when I saw him waiting, his stained and tattered old jacket truly obvious amongst the glam and glitz of the Hollywood-like building behind him. His smile was the same as it always was -- while at that time, I hadn't known, but it was false, hiding a pain only he carried then. And yet, even then, when I saw it, the stress hanging in my heart was lifted for just a brief moment. He'd asked me back then if I wanted to get lunch with him, since he was on break. Having yet to develop any feelings, I agreed without much thought whatsoever. "Great, thanks for treating me," he had joked, earning a laugh from me.

We hadn't actually ordered anything. Rather, we just stood across from each other on opposite ends of one of the decorated tables, talking for quite a long time. He told me of the time where he started making jokes to a woman through the door to the Ruins, who I could only assume was none other than the woman who had helped me when I fell down here. But his tone had drifted off when he told this story; his eye contact was lost, that false smile ever so faltering to his thoughts. I hadn't even gotten the chance to ask what was wrong before he answered that question for himself. "Y'know, kid, what drives you to leave this place? You've already got so much down here... What else do'ya need other than some good friends, good food, and some bad laughs?"

I thought about it for a moment. I think he was going to brush aside the topic after my initial response of silence, but I had stopped him, interjecting with my own thoughts. "I don't know," I had answered truthfully. "I don't know what's driving me. I don't remember anything good from where I came from... All I know is that I'm scared, and I want to go back to where things are familiar."

He didn't know how to respond when I said that. That moment is probably the most shocked and unprepared for something I have ever seen him in my entire life. His smile's falseness revealed its truth, slipping away as he stared at me completely dumbfounded of the words that had fallen from my mouth. It was as if he had been hoping to hear someone say that for years. As if he had been begging for someone to answer his question. That broken false smile slowly turned itself into something more genuine as he continued our conversation. "C'mon, now. There's no reason to be scared. Sure, there's a lotta folks who keep ravin' about how your SOUL will free us, but at the same time, you don't have to step forward and tempt the king if you don't wanna." He had shrugged, hands still buried deep into his jacket pockets. "But, I'm not the one livin' your life. You do you. I ain't gonna tell you what you should or shouldn't do, not now."

I had let his words soak into my mind, deeply considering the suggestion he was ensuing. I couldn't help but wonder: what was normal life down here? I'd somehow managed, with my frail self-worth and lack of bravery, to befriend many of those who lived here. There was next to no one alive in the Underground who still wanted to hand my extracted SOUL to the king. With that knowledge, it clicked: it was safer for me here than it was anywhere else in this world. The moment this thought grazed my mind, I was already saying, "Do you know anywhere I could stay?"

I'd thought he was going to cry when I said that. I still don't know why it struck him the way it did, just my asking if he knew someone I could stay with. But regardless, he let me stay with him and his brother.

For a while, I lived on their couch. It wasn't particularly the most comfortable of living conditions -- the old, raggy, stained, and ripping couch was awful compared to my previous, yet very-below-average mattress -- but even so, the skeletons' cozy house eventually became my home. I even began calling it that only a few weeks into living here. Something about living here just clicked. Even when I woke up to aggravated yelling, one brother telling the other to get up and go to work, I couldn't help but just giggle and relax in the environment. They were a chaotic pair, those two, but they were inexplicably generous and beyond kind. I couldn't help but consider them as family in such short time. And, well, in the case of one... I couldn't help but fall in love.

I hadn't meant to. But that's always how it goes, isn't it? No one ever means to fall in love. At first, actually, I hated it. I hated myself for it. The mere sight of him made me paranoid. He became confused as to why I would suddenly reject every moment he was so much as in the same room as me, but I couldn't answer. How could I? I was still adapting to the life of merely living without the presence of humans -- my internal morals screamed at every turn that this was nothing but wrong and disgusting. No one wants to hear that about themselves. Not to mention, these monsters were still getting used to me, as well. To me, they were the weird ones, but to the greater society, I was the odd one out. The anomaly. Why should, by any means, should this guy accept my feelings, when there's thousands of people of his own kind surrounding him?

I hadn't meant to confess to him ever, truly. Had it not been for that one night where a dark dream swallowed my sanity whole, I don't think I would have ever said a word to him. But, as it is, no one ever chooses to have the dreams they do, either.

I had woken with a yelp and a jolt. The vague snowy light from the window above me still shimmered, despite the hour; adjusting to the time within an underground cave had been a bit of an interesting challenge. But I digress: at this point, such things no longer bothered me. Now, the only thing on my mind was a horrifying nightmare, one terrible fear looping its imagery before my internal eyes over and over again without fail. I hadn't wanted to go to him about this, but I was nearly weeping with fear. Had I been able to, I may have gone to his brother instead to talk to, but unfortunately, this was one of the many nights he opted against sleeping and instead decided to work overtime. I had no other choice, if I wanted to get this horror off my chest, than to speak to him directly.

I had taken a deep breath once I reached his door, my hand shakily gripping the handle. At this point, even though we had been living in the same house for over a month or so, I hadn't even been inside his room. I didn't know if I was welcome. That stress, on top of the fear cycling through my eyes, caused more and more tears to form. I refused to let them fall, wiping them against my shirt as I pushed through and opened the door, allowing myself in.

"Sans?"

The soft whisper of his name had left my lips, each sound struggling to hold together in a cohesive word. I had taken another step in, repeating his name, more softly the second time. The room had been pitch black, and there was barely even any sound to indicate someone might be living in there. Just when I had thought he was maybe too deep into his sleep to hear me, I had begun to turn around, only to register the sound of my name being sleepily strung together in a deep reply. Within that second alone, the dam holding back my tears broke loose; I hadn't wanted it to, but somehow, I had lost all control. I ran to the source of his voice, and without even so much as a thought or hesitation, threw my arms around his figure sitting at the edge of his mattress. He had laughed at first, until I let slip why I came to him in the first place.

"I'm so glad you're alive... I'm so glad I can hear your voice. I don't know what I would have done if that dream was real..."

His laughter fell silent. His body felt stiff in my grip, refusing to move or react for a very long time. Then, as if some instinct washed over him, his whole demeanor changed to hold me at his side and hush away my tears, assuring me he was alive and well with what seemed akin to the sound of desperation lacing his voice. His hands, however small and thin, were careful to caress me gently, reassuringly rubbing my back and softly stroking my hair. Such tender intimacy I had never felt before, and I wasn't so sure as to why I was feeling it now. The guilt of my feelings subsided for just a brief moment as I had nudged my nose into his collarbone.

"I love you, Sans. If you died... I don't know what I would do."

His actions didn't stop. Rather, the soft huff of a cheery chuckle was released as he pulled me closer, leaning in just next to my ear. "I love you, too," he whispered back to me. "Don't worry 'bout me dying on you. It won't happen. And I won't let you do go dyin' on me either, 'kay?"

I had laughed softly, joyfully accepting this response. After my tears began to cease, he still kept me close, and instead I fell asleep in his bed for the first time. In fact, from then onward, I never fell asleep on the couch again. Well, almost never.

His brother, while readily supporting us with open arms, couldn't bring himself to accept the idea of the two of us sharing a room for a fair amount of time. And just when he had started to grow accustomed to it, the two of us had to go and spoil it by... well, let's just say by being a bit too loud. His brother made me sleep on the couch that night. Needless to say, after that, anytime the two of us wanted to be a bit more intimate than usual, we didn't do it at home. Thankfully, his brother somehow wasn't concerned by us disappearing from the house every other night.

It took me, even still, quite a long time to adjust to the whole situation. It wasn't rainbows and sunshine after that. I still kept fighting myself against these feelings, despite being accepted and supported for the relationship I had involved myself in. That human societal morality still dug in my chest -- the society that I was no longer a part of. It was hard to convince myself that this was okay here. It was hard to convince myself that my actions were justified. It was hard to convince myself that everything was okay. It took a lot of bright smiles, soft cuddles, and genuine conversations to really allow myself to break through the old morals I no longer needed. It took me nearly six months to accept the fact that humans and monsters can live alongside each other without having to worry about their differences.

And now, I still remain here, right at his side. I could still feel the gentle touch of his fingertips against my skin as I drifted off to sleep by him for the thousandth time.

So I think you can imagine my fear when I woke up alone in a completely different house.

#undertale #undertale sans #undertale fanfiction #undertale fanfic #the butterfly effect #zircon writes #i do writing sometimes it's a thing #ill be posting both this and the next chapter btw

21 notes · View notes