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(Close casket funeral) chapter 3 (draft) - growing bones are weary

'What the fuck are you doing with my body!?!?' The monster screamed at you, or so you thought, it's difficult to tell when the only indicator is the 'feeling' in your gut while running around a burning city trying to escape an angry mob of humans. 'GET OUT GET OUT GETOUTGETOUTGETOUTGETO-'

"Shut UP!!!" you hollered back, a foreign feeling rumbled in your neck and almost got you to drop the bundle in your arm. You can feel the 'voice' in your head panicked and the hold on the bundle tightened slightly, from a force that does not feel like yours.

'Be careful!' it hissed, you could feel the hostility so clearly that if you were not scrambling to get away you would make sure it could feel you rolling your eyes at it.

"UH, HELLO?? IM TRYING TO GET US OUT OF HERE ALIVE AND YOU'RE DISTRACTING ME!!!" You yelled back, as you instinctively dodged a stake aiming for your head.

'And what a good job you're doing.' it scoffed as you turned the corner, "oh can it Skeletor," you hissed, something has nicked your left thigh, "shit shit shit-"

'Give me back my body already!' it growled at you, for some fucking reason, 'I am not going to die at the hands of these filthy humans because i'm stuck with whatever you are!'

God, you're so going to die again.

Somehow you two didn't die because of the angry human mob, you will have to say you're amazed.

Sitting at the bottom of a stairway leading down to the sewerage, you are a little dazed as you hold the bundle that probably covers an infant in your arms, throbbing legs and out of breath, you can't help but curse at the sickened higher power.

"Fuckkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk" you groaned out, your hold on the baby sagged a little. You were surprised you didn't drop the little shit earlier while you were running.

'Language, there's a child in your arm,' the voice chastised, sounding just as shaken as you are.

"You acted like you are reacting better," You scoffed, "Not like the infant would remember anyway," you mumbled as you pushed the rough fabric aside a bit to reveal the smaller skeleton's sleepy face, you can't help but poke at it with your bonely finger. "Why would you be a skeleton of all fucking things?"

'Why being a soul-latching, body-snatching fucking parasite-'

The infant wailed at your body sharing mate's murderous magic pulse, sending both of you into panic, you rock it back and forth, shushing it and trying to calm it down.

'That's my BROTHER you heathen, stop referring to him as an 'it' this instance!'

"How was I supposed to know!? You guys just looked like bones to me!!" you hissed back quietly, still trying to calm down the baby. "And if it's your brother, a little help wouldn't hurt!!!"

'…'

"Oh no you don't!!" you whispered against the wailing infant, "I know you're there bitch!"

--------

'What are you doing!?' You hissed at your monster host, as the skeleton tried and failed to change the infant's dirty diaper. "YOU do it then!" he barked back, his hands flaring up with magic in panic as the tiny monster wailed louder. If it's not for the magic barriers you shakily put up, you would have already died twenty times over by angry gangs, considering you are nowhere near neutral ground.

"Paps, stop wiggling," said Serif, a drop of sweat rolled down his skull, the teenage skeleton magic humming against your own, stress and fear thrumming in his magic pulse. "Come on kiddo."

'Wow, this is pitiful,' you snorted at the sight of fumbling skeletal hands and the crying infant, 'try to wipe the magic residues off first, genus.'

Having stuck with the skeletons for about two weeks, you have made your peace, and promptly follow your host's becks and calls on the shared 'chores'. You can't do much anyway if you tried to take over and hold control over his head for too long your soul would just shut down, his attempt had ended no different from yours.

In both instances, it was rather unpleasant for all parties involved, including the screaming infant.

He only grumbled at the suggestion, 'and use the soft handkerchief I grab at that mall and not the fucking rag you idiot.'

The fucker throws his hand up at your unwanted but necessary input, undoubtedly wanting to ask you to go do it yourself but unwilling to admit defeat.

You would be gleefully laughing at him if you had your body on you right now, maybe give him the middle finger, manchild.

You would also be out for his, and maybe even the infant, dust right now if you are still in your human body so maybe it's for the best that your survival is linked to his.

Damn.

Can't believe this is your life now.

'Apply the baby powder first,' you yawn, closing your shared eyes for a second, ' he's going to scratch his ass bone off with that cheap diaper'

"…You mean his coccyx?" Serif asked,

'do my magic feel like I know?' you scoffed, 'what am I? A scientist?'

Not everyone goes around with knowledge about what an ass bone is called.

Only the unstable one does.

----

The time before 'now' is nothing but a blurry mess in your vacant mind.

You remember running through the wrecked city not unlike these days, albeit more alone, scared and stressed, but that can mostly be blamed on the paranoia. Survival was never kind to a lonely soul in a war between some and all.

Glimes and memories of your fully human life might be nothing but fleeting, but it does not mean you're sometimes still holding on to it with 'your' bleeding hands.

While Serif wasn't too keen on the visions of your past, he was never too vocal about it.

Papyrus seemed like your stories enough though, it does make some wicked bedtime stories.

---

The infant has grown up at an alarming rate, or so you think, Serif claimed it's more than normal for a monster to push its growth during an unstable period. Wars and whatnot.

And he also said your soul had shut down roughly twelve hours or so after total control. Because you're the main caretaker of the infant, you tend to take control more than him, and while Serif doesn't seem to mind too much aside from being his normal paranoiac self, it takes a toll on your soul.

"We gotta figure out this body control thing," you whined, bouncing the physically five-month-old monster on your lap, " the shutdowns thingy is making my magic sloppy and i'm not even well rested." Rubbing at your eyesocket, you let some more of your magic drip off for Papyrus to feed on, you and Serif have found out he fancies your green magic and tends to eat more. Thank the stars for monster biology, you can't imagine running around trying to find not only food for Serif but also formulas for his little brother.

That would be a nightmare and a half, and you're no soul of patience and neither is Serif.

This might just lead you two to do something stupid like ambushing a group of well-off snorts.

But looking at your full inventory and the big travel package, Serif might have done it on his own already.

Fucker truly resents letting you have fun, and can't even have the decency to include you in the planning.

"Serif, I know you're in there, you bald bitch," you push the magic through your shared bond, something you two picked up in one of the more high stake raids, "you can't just keep putting me on baby duty and do all the fun shits." You grind your teeth together as Pap lets out a yawn, slowly falling asleep in the soft bundle of blankets you and Serif trying your hardest to keep warm, clean and soft for him.

"Serif," you warned, "Don't make me stick you to diaper duty," you feel a shift in the soul, as dread and horror of the unfortunate fucker you stuck with crept through your veins." You and I both know you shit at it."

----

The first time you called Pap your little brother was around a year after you accidentally linked soul with Serif and attempted to steal all his bones.

The infant is now as tall as Serif's kneecaps, ablet not that tall, but it is still a step up from a little bundle of bones and blankets, and just gained consciousness about two months.

The newly dubbed sentient monster has a great curiosity that Serif and you both find delightful to entertain. But it quickly came clear to you both that the curiosity packet is not 'self-perseveration included'.

So in the shock of watching your very fragile, very dustable toddle smiling at a human whose weapon was raised too high for a friendly greeting you might have reacted, hastily.

And as embarrassing, as it is to have that mental image burned into your no longer existing brain, you can't help but think about how the younger skeleton's eyelights sparked as the word was ingrained in his little mind. It was somehow different to all the times Serif called him his brother.

Neither you nor Serif has exactly told the tiny child about your, …circumstances. But Pap might just have caught on with his brilliant little mind.

Serif kept teasing you about how you yelled out the word as you bashed the human skull in with your magic blast. The wording was slightly bitter at the time, you figured it might be because Serif still has some distance for a human soul to call Papyrus 'its' brother.

The ingrained teaching to hate one another was difficult to correct from both of yours and his mind, you presume.

---

The first time you called Serif- Sans, Sans. The first time you called Sans your little brother was just another night of your forever wandering life. Being on guard duty for once, you set up magic barriers, letting Sans's soul rest from all the heavy lifting duties he put upon himself to do, as well as trying your best to get your shared body settled. As the vessel was a shared thing between two souls, it's challenging to know where the limit is, taking into account a super soldier soul and a green main human one. The body is more often than not, ran ragged, never truly rested.

As Sans has been the main rider for almost all day, except for small moments of rest in between you forced his stubborn coccyx into switching to prevent a shutdown, so you thought he would be more than knocked out completely the moment you finished the campsite. Your gentle magic pulse certainly gained no response beyond some light 'tired, tired, annoyed' so you leave him be.

Your first mistake was to assume his paranoid ass is in deep slumber for once.

Your second mistake was cooing at Pap in an attempt to annoy the child to go to bed.

"Oh you adorable little munchkin," you coo-ed as you squished his soft face bone together, "you're my favourite little brother right now."

The child gasped and giggled against your hold, his tiny claws grabbing at your offending hands, which were still very much squishing his cheek together. "I Am Your Only Little Brother!!!"

You only grinned at that and tickled the child, which led to another fit of laughter.

It takes a while for Papyrus to fast asleep, but when he does, you can't help but mumble to yourself about your other little brother, the one you're sharing a body with.

"Sans is my little brother too you know," you mumble, petting Pap's tiny skull as he snuggles closer to you, "not sure if he shares the sentiment." you chuckle sadly.

Then there was a pulse of magic.

Crap.

'…Yeah no,' said the skull head sleepily, your magic run cold, the fear of rejections, your mind supplied, 'if anything you're my little sis, bud.' and- what?

"… I am older than you," you let out a scoff, as uncertainly as it is, "you're like what? Twelve? Your teenage hormones are showing."

'Bitch I was Fourteen when you found me, and we shared the same fucking body!' The skeleton soul snapped awake, 'If anything! It's our hormones now!!!' He laughed.

"Still older than your midget ass," you sing, " I was sixteen when I died, and taller too, so imagine my surprise when I woke up two feet shorten in a lab, lmao, skill issue honestly."

'…I understand like half of that, but!' you felt a light poke at the bond, the equivalent of an annoying poke to the rib between you too, 'you're not older than me'

"Are too!" 'Are not!' "Are too!" 'Are not! The human soul stops ageing once the body dies! I know that!' yelled gleefully the teenage skeleton.

"That only counts when they no longer have a body." you scoffed, arms crossing defensively, "Even then, i'm still older than you."

'…how about, hear me out here,' Sans started again, ' we called it a drawn and settle for twins?' Sans offered, you can imagine the deranged winning grin on his face.

But he has a point, he's younger right now but he will grow up when you still don't know whether you will grow with him or not. And neither of you wants to be the younger one for any amount of time due to pride.

"…Fine." You huffed good naturally, a soft smile evident on your face but he can't prove that beyond the 'fond, fond, love, brother,' subtle pulse of magic against his soul. "Nice to meet you, my twin brother."

His magic flows around with 'sister, family, pride, pride, love' intertwined within it, which makes you can't help but chuckle, 'It's great to know you too, sister.'

----

'Oh, can it skeleton.' You growled at your least favourite brother, the same one who has been laughing his ass off for five minutes now.

"I- I can't!" He gasped, rolling on the temporary campground, Papyrus sat beside the fire, ignoring the laughing brother as he found the picture book in his hand much more interesting. "Pa-Paps is a better reader than you!" He exclaimed, tears of joy rolling off his cheekbones, " He doesn't even know his alphabet!"

At this, the child peeks up hearing his name being used condescendingly and frowns at his brother. " I Do Know The Alphabets, I Just Can't Remember What Come After What."

'Shut up!' you hissed, obviously embarrassed, 'we all have flaws! Stop making fun of my inability to read! Mister "I am afraid of everything"!!'

"Hey, that's not fair," he sulked at your aggressive magic pulse, "I was locked in a lab!" He whined.

'And I was not! So stop making fun of me!!!'

"Fine, fine," the skeleton chuckled, "how about me teaching you a thing or two, eh?"

'… only if you promise to stop making fun of me.'

"That's a promise, sister." He all but barked out his waves of laughter, and Papyrus, who wasn't quite able to grasp the conversation from magical intents alone, just looked at Sans like he had lost it.

---

Sans's past studies were more… 'repertoires', as he likes to say, while yours is less, whatever that is and more survival-based. This leads to very conflicting teaching.

Papyrus huffed as his coccyx collided with the forest ground once again, having been too focused on the correct standing for him to be aware of the actual fight. You sighed as frustration rolled off him in waves, while your youngest brother has much more patience compared to Sans, you can see it being worn thin.

"Pap, chill with the techniques bud," you kick lightly at his leg as the child refuses to get up, "you gotta keep your eyelights on your enemies."

Papyrus eventually sat up, his face scrunched up with confusion, "I Do Not Get It," he mumbled, tugging his legs closer to himself, "Sans Said It's Important, But You Don't Care For It!" He barked out, eyelights snapped from his feet to your face, "How Do You Fight, Please Tell Me, Sis!"

You groaned at the thought of actually describing your fighting style, how does one even say messy, dirty and desperate but with more words?

----

'I can't believe you talked me into this.' Sans grumbled, not quite pleased with your plan for Papyrus 'first' raid, well, first one he has an active role anyway. You can't just leave an infant/toddler in an empty base with basic protection barriers and notice-me-not charms and hope for the best all the time.

(Even with such reasoning, the first few raids when Pap got too big to be strapped to Sans's body gave you both one too many soul attacks. How such a tiny thing could be so fast when it just discovered walking brings fears to you every day.)

"Come on, Twinsy," you rolled your eyelights as you gently pushed at your twin soul, "relax, Pap got this. And have a little fate in me, will ya?" You pouted, it's not like you both have been training Pap for months on end, and your plan has been fine-tuning for weeks before being put in motion.

"But what if something went wrong?!" Sans snapped into control, anxiety ran deep into his magic. You only huffed as you were suddenly pushed to the back seat, and your brother only chuckled apologetically.

'He's what? Seven now?' counting another year in the test tub would make him eight, you rolled your magic softly at the bond, calming the skeleton, 'I was up and about that criminal live at his age, and we're watching his back anyway, don't worry.'

Your unvolunteered roommate only sighs, " I hope we won't come to regret this."

You grinned at him.

----

It was around Papyrus's tenth birthday that The Old King's guards captured you three venturing too close to their border. The kind old man all but welcomed you three with open arms, well, in his eyes, there are only two lonely young brothers lost in a war.

You were reluctant about trusting someone you know little to nothing about. But as the longing deep in Sans's soul dripped into your bond, Papyrus gleamingly smiled at the thought of living among his kind. You can only accept it and urge Sans to give it a go, certainly, you can protect your brothers if it comes to it!

Right?

----

You can't remember much before that fateful day when your soul got ripped out of your body by the cold and uncaring hand of the doctor, you told Sans one night. He snorted at that, " I wouldn't doubt it, sound pretty traumatic to me", he said as your eyelights trailed along the horizon, " Gaster was cruel, and I feel like your memories from the 'before' keep getting worse anyway," he said as he lifts the riffle in your hands, lining it up to his left eyelight, the one blazing with magic, and aiming at the creature making it way pass the pinewood walls you both worked so hard on.

You float lazily at the back of the mind space, letting him do the work, zoning out on your surroundings. You don't like that response, it reminds you of the early days when he would fight for control while you fumbled in a panic trying to help, Man, Sans can be so paranoid in those days, you huffed in annoyance.

"Focus," you can feel the magic in your throat rumbling lowly as Sans pushes his magic inward to get your attention, "you know I can't get a clean shot with your magic clouding our mind." he huffed as he tried to steady his aim.

You roll your metaphor eyes as you feel your soul dragging itself closer to the front, more aware of the world surrounding your shared body. Sans grunted as his grip on the gun flattered slightly, you snicker at the annoyance in the magic pulse he sent you, "Stop moving," he complained again, " it messes up my aim."

'What even is that anyway?' you asked as you looked through the riffle rear sight, a creature covered in black tar powering through the snow after passing the wood walls with warning signs against trespassing. It let out a wail that you're sure you would never be able to hear if not for Sans's enhanced senses. Its mangled body looks like parts of humans and monsters glued together like some Frankenstein monster.

"Dunno," he mumbled, "still gotta shoot it down, it's gonna get to the gate."

You hummed as the riffle went off, the magic-infused gun effectively took out the tar-covered creature, leaving the snow-covered ground blackened by the energy blast.

'you are good at this.' you praised the skeleton.

"Thank you, I live to amaze." Said the monster as he did a little bow.

-----

"Little Paps! There you are!" Using your magic as a platform boost, you launched yourself into the air and slowly landed next to the tall teenager. "Sans was going crazy looking for you," you huffed at your very much annoyed younger brother, "he almost ran his magic jagged enough for a shutdown when he couldn't find you in the campsite."

The sixteen-year-old Skeleton only sighed, not very apologetic, "My Apologies, Sister, I Was Just Going For A Walk," He huffed, "Didn't Mean To Worry You Both."

You only wave at your youngest brother's concerns, "It's fine Paps," craning your neck upward to meet the tall child in the eyes, you smiled as you said, "Sans gonna be out for at least a day so I guess you gonna be stuck with my lessons for now."

"That Is Quite Alright, Sister," Your youngest brother said, his right hand coming up to scratch the back of his neck, " I Enjoy Our Sessions Very Much, Although I Would Like To Learn Magic Attacks Instead Of Hand Hand Combat From You Today…"

"Aww, but Paps, you gotta learn to fight beyond magic," you pout at him, well aware of his annoyance against the hand-to-hand training, "Sans suck at it and relies on his magic too much, and you know 're-"

"'-Relying On Only One Tool Is A Dangerous Thing To Do'," Papyrus finished off the well-recited line with an eye roll, all but huffing he said "I Know, I Know, You Has Been Chiding At Us About That Since… Forever."

To this, you can only chuckle and shrug at him, "Maybe one of these days the advice will stick for once," giving him a fake and drawn-out sigh, you said, "A girl can only hope."

The teenage monster answers with a rough push hard enough to hopefully get you to land on your face, children, honestly.

"Alright alright, I got it," your hand shot up instead of surrendering, " How about you let little ol' me show you how to do platform jumping? Ey? Ya, fancy that?"

At this offer, Papyrus was all but smiled so wide it actually concerning for his jaws and maybe mental stability.

"Thank You, Sister Dearest, Now Let Us Get Going Before Your Sunrise Shift Come Around." He said with so much joy and excitement in his voice it was barely containable, and then the skeleton started walking toward the training ground with a pep in his step.

#rough draft #undertale #undertale fanfiction #reader insert #CCF

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