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sillyguy99 · 2 months

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There is no fear in love

(Mafiafell Sans x Reader)

Chapter One: Rude Awakening

[Index | Next]

Notice:

(The reader has a nun name, meaning: a holy name given to be used by others in place of a real name, such as “Sister Magdalene” instead of just “(Y/N)”, in this specific case.)

(Also, if this work seems familiar, that is because this is the definitive version of Pray that you will not fall into temptation, since I merged various, similar plot ideas for a Mafiafell fic into one, in order to make the story more fleshed out + provide more consistent, weekly updates!)

• • • • •

"Mom!"

The watering can falls from your hand at the sound of that voice. It clatters and the little water left splashes your shoes as it hits the rocky floor, yet you can't care less about picking it up when you see Frisk running towards you, their arms outstretched, smile radiant, and eyes glossy. You push yourself off the ground, though with struggle as your legs shake and give in from anticipation. It takes a few more seconds of stumbling until you're finally able to stand up straight, and – by the time you do – they're already in your arms, their light weight barely making you budge regardless of your current, weak self. Everything around you: the garden, the fountain, the picnic table, and even your own body feel unearthly, and you're certain it'll all end the moment you take too long to blink.

"Words can't describe how much I've missed you, dear," you state, almost in a whisper when you fail to raise your voice, sorrow making it difficult to do without breaking.

You hug Frisk as tight as the knot on your chest. Tears rush down, staining your arms until you hide your face against their shoulder and squeeze all your distress away. They feel fragile in your grasp, and fleeting, too – like letting go will cause them to crumble, then disappear. As much as you don't want to, you still begin to loosen up bit by bit until your embrace is a gentler touch, almost ghostly. Then, you pull back and wipe your face with a handkerchief you retrieve from your pocket, and offer your child another when you notice they're in a similar state, although not as bad as your own. Even if it isn't real, the last thing you wish is to let them see you somber. That's about the least you can do to make up for how many faults you've found while analyzing the reasons they went missing under your care.

"hey, kid. where'd ya run off to? ya can't just-"

Your arms act instinctively at the sound of an unfamiliar voice, these wrapping firm around Frisk again, like a snake with a hamster, minus the intent to cause any harm.

"oh."

The person behind that voice stands at the entrance of the garden, and – while you try your best not to – your mind ends up jumping to negative conclusions when you see just what type of monster he is.

"Stay back!" Fearing the dream has become a nightmare, you close your eyes and squeeze Frisk harder, yet you soon loosen when they gasp for a breath. "And state your reason for visiting first."

"well…"

You hear footsteps, but you refuse to look at him.

"i'm sans, one of your kid's friends from the underground," he says. "frisk told us they couldn't stay with tori, since they've got another mom up here, and now here i am. they gave me your address, we gathered some info to make sure you were still around, and then i drove us here. the rest of the convent interrogated me before they told me to go straight to the garden, so you can ask 'em if you're suspicious." There's a brief spell of peace and quiet as you hear him debate about something with himself. "sorry if this's kinda nosy, but…" There's a long pause in his words. "how does that work, exactly? you havin' a kid, i mean. aren't nuns supposed to be married to, uh, god, and not, well… a husband?"

You scoff and feel your face form a glower on its own. "I'm not married, and Frisk isn't my biological child, though… I don't really see that detail as relevant to my love for them." Your fingers bury into Frisk's hair as you stroke their bangs away and kiss their forehead. "It matters not whether they're biologically mine."

They shift, kiss your cheek, and push you aside, then tug at your sleeve persistently, insisting without a word for you to address the elephant in the room.

You sigh, breathe back in, and open your eyes.

It's impossible not to flinch when you take a better look at the monster: far less daunting than you were expecting, but still the most unnatural thing you've witnessed since having to interfere with a violent human at the front of the orphanage. The skeleton wears a black suit with hints of red, and the grin he carries appears shielded with dishonesty, contrasting with his direct and unwavering stare. Though the feeling of uneasiness differs from peering into the eyes of someone who has no fear of taking a life away, gazing into his irises still brings about uncertainty. You can't digest how detailed his body is, and how what little bones are exposed from his suit move in sync with each step he takes. It's like watching the most realistic, computer-generated creature in the real world rather than in film. What makes it a chilling experience is that he's actively acknowledging your presence, and that his irises follow your movements as you dust your clothes and fix yourself up after the messy hug.

He's not much taller than you or even Frisk, and yet...

You feel small, and how broad his body seems contributes to that.

"They had gone missing three months ago, and I…" You bring your hands together and bite back another tear, then face the ground to avoid meeting with what looks like Death, but formally dressed. "I can't express how much I grieved over their disappearance." Momentary courage allows you to look at him directly. "Who are you to my child? And… Who is this 'Tori' person?"

A chilly breeze of awareness arrives when you unclasp your hands and stare at your palms to see traces of soil smeared on your skin, most of it you believe is now wiped off on Frisk's attire.

"Frisk!" you exclaim, eyes broadening as you look next to you. "I forgot I-"

They're already standing in front of the skeleton, with their arms fully extended as they wait while he searches through his suitcase.

He retrieves a full set of clothes, a hair pin, and a stuffed teddy bear, then pats their head before they run off inside the church.

If you were jumpy before – even with the company of Frisk – now being alone with the skeleton leads to your body turning awfully rigid, and for a stiffer silence to build up between you.

"do ya have some time to spare, miss?" he asks, zipping the suitcase closed and throwing it over his shoulder. "i needa talk to ya 'bout Frisk."

This has to be a dream, at least.

There's no way you're staring at a breathing, moving, talking skeleton who'd somehow been left in charge of sending Frisk off towards you.

You should've known today wasn't real since the local news announced that a large crowd of monsters of all shapes and kinds had emerged from the Underground, like some sort of Halloween Horror film.

"It's my first time seeing them in months," you reply, narrowing your eyes at him. "Of course, I do!" You stare at your hands again. "But... Could you allow me a minute to wash up?" Then, you glance at your uniform. "I've been gardening since early morning."

Whether this is all a dream or a nightmare, you should at least look presentable for either outcome.

"sure." He shrugs. "take your time."

• • • • •

You throw half a strawberry at a bird in your garden, lured by the sweet scents of the food you've set up on the table.

It flies off back into a tree when it picks up the treat, and – when you're positive there's no other hungry animal waiting nearby – you throw the other half on the flowers and watch as the leaves rustle and stop when reaching the spot.

Your next chore is to wash your hands by the faucet near the garden and continue setting up the rest of the table when you return.

"ya know," Sans says, sitting on the chair you gesture him over to. "from what frisk told me about you, i was kinda expectin' a lady older than tori herself."

You finish pouring tea to look at him and lift an eyebrow. "Pardon?"

Although left without an answer, you push on by arranging some shortbread cookies and thinly sliced fruit on a pair of ceramic plates while you wait for him to say something.

He's observing your every move, and there's a limit to how much of that you can tolerate, but fear causes you to keep your mouth shut and carry on.

"and it makes a lotta sense."

"...Care to elaborate, sir?"

Still being out in the garden is what has kept you sane this whole time. Were you in an enclosed space with the skeleton, you wouldn't have lasted a second. There's just something wrong about looking at him and being aware he's a living creature – that he has a human's level of intelligence, and that he's judging you for acting like an old lady in spite of being in your twenties. You want this to end, yet if this is your punishment for not being a good enough mother, then you're bound to push on. You just have to be patient. And you just have to try not to… widen your eyes every occasion you figure out anything new about him. The basics – while covered – are already overwhelming on their own, but actually seeing him laugh and joke around like any other human drives you mad.

"you're makin' me tea, servin' me cookies, insistin' ya do every little thin' yourself," he says, touching a finger from his right hand with his left index finger for each observation he lists, "you're good with birds – probably other animals, too, and you're wearin' a type of dress only someone over her sixties would wear," he remarks, unwinding with a breath out when he shows all those statements take up his entire hand, "that's already five things, and i'm barely just gettin' to know ya. when did ya start out as a nun, anyway?"

Porcelain and ceramic clink as you set what's now unneeded away and leave only the cookies, fruit, tea, and communion items out on the table.

"Since my eighteenth birthday. It's been thirteen years."

You prepare the communion, first by setting aside a piece of sacramental bread, and then a small portion of grape wine in a paper cup.

"whoa." He whistles. "since that early?"

You ignore his comments while you finish setting everything else up, the last thing being to bless both the food and the communion. You then stand up, pick up the tray with the bread and wine, and offer it to him. How fast your heart races makes it so that your fingers shake as you grab the bread.

"Open your, um…" You frown. "How does your skull work?"

"you can touch, if you wanna."

Your eyes glue to his face, and inordinate curiosity fights with basic decency. He's a stranger, and yet he's being as casual as you would expect an old friend to be. You want to ask him to stop – that his existence alone as a skeleton is still something you're barely getting adjusted to, but common sense and more than enough years of your work in the convent have taught you better than that. Just as you're adjusting to him, he's likely doing with you and Frisk. Expecting him to act all formal would be rude, as would be him asking you to be casual around him. That's for friends, not strangers. Though if this really isn't some sort of Telephone game version of the classic Alice in Wonderland tale, then you hope you can both get used to one another later on.

"I shouldn't." Your gaze stays on his face. "But, then again…"

He chuckles, and his irises lighten up, something you've now associated with him being either happy or amused.

"Are you sure?"

"go wild."

You touch his cheekbone and press your thumb against it. The texture's similar to semi-hardened clay, and you leave a mark on his skull, though it fades after a few seconds. Worry stays at the thought of hurting him, so you brush your fingers at that spot again, softer this time.

"That's…" You pull back. "That's... interesting?"

He winks. "and you're great at describing it."

You stay quiet and shake your head, at a loss for words for what you feel to be the third occasion today – and it's still only one in the afternoon!

His teeth part as you move on to what you were doing. Despite physical contact, your heart's calmed down more, and you can stare at him for longer without questioning reality and science. With a long and steady breath, plus the reminder to keep calm, you pick up the bread again and drop it on…

…his tongue (?), then watch as he chews it and passes it down with the wine.

This is normal.

You're not delusional.

And the news report is completely legitimate.

What you have to do is convince yourself to believe all that.

"thanks for sharing a part of your world with me." He grins. "and for the blessin', too."

"It's not much, sir." You smile. "I'm... only thankful you've brought Frisk here, safe and sound."

His expression glooms on par with his posture.

Meanwhile, you set the tray back down and sit on the bench across from him.

The garden feels too calm now, as if nature itself has sensed the monster's shift in mood. You're tempted to ask him directly about what's brought about such a sudden change, yet you know you're in no place to do that. Frisk is sleeping off the exhaustion from their journey in the security of their bedroom, meaning that asking them to do it is completely out of the question – not to mention, you don't want them to do the work for you, nor impose anything as complicated as this on them. Growing restless, you pick up a cookie from your plate and munch on it during your wait. The amount of time that passes on is sufficient for you to eat two more, and even drink your first cup of tea.

"uh, yeah…" he says, mumbling. "'bout that…"

His gaze lifts from the grass to your eyes.

"frisk might've technically... died a few times during their journey through the underground. the only reason they're still alive is cuz of how things worked down there. didn't wanna pull that sorta bandage off so quickly, but i figured you should know this first before they tell ya about their experiences."

"...Wh- What?" you snap, standing up. "Is that supposed to be a joke?"

"afraid it isn't."

The last thing you can register as anger overcomes your heart is the sound of the tea cup hitting the ground with a crash, sending shards flying across the floor.

You march off towards him, stand in front, and point at the door leading out of the garden.

"Get the hell out of my church, you sick-minded beast!"

"please, let me explai-"

"Get. Out."

All you see is red as you lunge at the monster and grab him by his shirt's collar, lifting him off the chair.

Him weighing no more than Frisk allows you to take him to the nearest wall and slam him against it.

"...A bandage?" You cackle, disbelief manifesting through the noise. He doesn't struggle, so you pick that up as a sign for you to tug at him harder. "My child died, and you call that ripping off a mere bandage?" You press yourself against him when he starts to shift.

"there's more i-"

You cut him off again by tugging his tie along with the rest of his shirt.

"Shut up," you shout. "If this is a nightmare, you're more than welcome to disappear and let me go back to sleep. I... I want you out of my damn sight the second I release you!"

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• • • • •

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