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cayenne-twilight · 3 years

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Professor Layton Iceberg Explanation

As I said in the tags of the original, the iceberg I made was a meme consisting of both real theories and satire/parodies/fandom memes. If anyone is interested, I can work on an unironic version that only has real theories.

Buckle in because this post is LONG and heavily saturated with lore and information.

Actual theories

Parallel universe 1960s where the world wars didn’t happen. There’s an unused file in Curious Village that shows the year as 1960 and the time machine from UF is set to 1973, ten years into the future. The series canonically takes place in an undefined time period (hence the technological inaccuracies and fantasy elements), but it’s based off the 60s. There’s more evidence but we don’t have time to go over every little thing. I linked my “no wars” theory below but TL;DR the outdated airplanes and underdeveloped medicine in the Layton series imply that the world wars may never have happened. https://cayenne-twilight.tumblr.com/post/632205992162099200/outofcontextdiscord-timegearremix-zonosils-war

The real meaning behind the statue in Future London. In UF, the purpose of the statue is to spark Layton and Luke’s conversation about their friendship. Luke is stressing out about moving overseas and sees himself and the professor in the story behind the statue, but in the bigger picture, Clive must have been the one to commission it. Some theorize that the little boy is Clive and the man is either his father or the professor. One idea I’ve seen is that Clive wishes he could be Luke for real, while another is that he wishes he died ten years ago, and another is that he’s literally terminally ill explaining why he doesn’t care about consequence. Personally, I think “the boy succumbed to his illness” refers to his mental illness seeing as he wanted the professor to save him from his madness as he saved him all those years ago.

True location of Monte D’Or. there are no deserts on the British isles to my knowledge, so it makes the most sense for Monte D’Or to be in Southwest USA where English is the default language, they have a desert, and there exists a city famous for flashy hotels, casinos, and entertainment. What makes it odd is that nobody ever mentions overseas travel, and all the major characters are from England.

Loosha’s origins are not explicitly explained if I remember correctly, but the implication was that her prehistoric (supposedly) species was sealed away along with the garden, allowing them to survive all the way to the time of LS until Loosha was the only one left. The garden provided a good habitat and protection from predators, and it’s logical that they’d slowly die out anyways, but there’s no explanation of any specific factors that led to Loosha being the last.

Beasley is not a bee I wrote a post about this one as well, but TL;DR Beasly lacks several defining bee traits whilst having several human ones. He is not human, yet, by definition, not a bee. It’s possible that he is the result of Dimitri’s testing, but whatever his untold story is, he remains an enigma of nature. https://cayenne-twilight.tumblr.com/post/632381715250282496/theory-beasly-isnt-a-bee

Subject 2’s identity is currently unknown. There is a subject one (parrot) and subject 3 (rabbit) so there has to be a second. For a long time, people suspected Beasly to be him seeing as he’s a bit of an amalgamation and definitely not a regular bee (see above). After the release of LMJ, though, people began to suspect Sherl, the intelligent hound who could speak to certain people but not others. That being said, it’s possible for one to be subject 4. Sherl’s memory of a bright flash matches up with subject 3’s memory of being electrocuted. They never explain why the animals were being experimented on, but it was probably Dimitri making sure the conditions of his machine were safe for humans before reliving the incident from ten years ago.

Lady Violet died from the plague from DB. There’s no evidence for this or anything, it’s just an idea. People say she died from the flu but I don’t remember them saying that in the game, at least the US version. Extending off my “no war” theory: it’s theorized that the Spanish Flu was spread by the travlelling soldiers, so if that’s true, it’s possible for the epidemic to have been averted for some decades. Maybe the Spanish Flu reached England later than in real life. The hole in this is that DB’s plague must’ve been close in time to 1918 while Violet’s death was much later, so it would’ve had to stick around.

Bill Hawks is working with Targent and Arthur Cantabella. There was a force in the shadows buying the time machine technology from Bill. Someone with a ton of money who helped him cover up a freak accident and get away with it completely, a feat that involved shady means like violence by hired thugs. Some theorize that it was Targent, seeking power over time in exchange for a little mafia magic. The Labarynthia project was sponsored by the UK government, so as the PM, Bill must’ve known about it. He probably supported dubiously ethical, high stakes (witch pun) psychological experiments like Cantabella’s and helped him stay in the shadows.

All the NPCs in St. Mystere and Folsense are dead. I make fun of this type of theory later, but they’re admittedly captivating. I’m pretty sure the canon in CV is that the villagers are Bruno and Augustus’s OCs that they made robots of and built a town around, but it’s more interesting to think that the village was there before, and the townspeople died of a plague and were replaced like Lady Violet. In Folsense, there really was a plague and they never explain the NPCs there. They’re either real people who appear way younger than they are due to hallucinations (even the ones who already look old ?), or they don’t exist at all, which is pretty spooky. This part of the story is a gaping plot hole. In a similar vein to CV, the edgy yet plausible theory is that they used to live in Folsense but died of the plague and now live on as hallucinations.

Hershel seeing everything as a puzzle is a coping mechanism for all his trauma. This was a joke but I thought about it for more than five seconds and it makes way too much sense.

Plot holes and unexplained questions that we like to overthink because it’s fun

The downfall of the Azran was vaguely explained in canon by people being so greedy that it lead to the civilization collapsing. It’s not a stretch to imagine that happening, but it would’ve been more interesting with a little more detail.

Layton and Luke are programmed to routinely forget how to walk. I didn’t know whether to list this in the joke section or not, but it’s odd that the characters actively participate in the walking tutorial (as opposed to showing a little memo to the player) as if they didn’t know how to before, especially when they go through this several times a year.

The truth behind Pavel. He’s simply a joke character who teleports, is a polyglot (sort of, at least he wants us to think he is) and is mega confused all the time. He’s a fun character to make crack theories about because of his cryptic nature that even he doesn’t seem to understand.

Miracle Mask deleted scenes. The first trailer for MM featured animations that were not in the final game. One was the Randall falling scene, except in a slightly different style than the one we know. Others were completely foreign, like Layton and Luke pacing across a theatre stage as if Layton’s about to expose someone with a dramatic point. Cut content and “could’ve beens” are always curious to think about.

Evan Barde: secret mastermind. Arianna and Tony’s dad is a mysterious character who died under mysterious circumstances. I think the canon is that his death was a genuine accident, but concept art of him making a creepy evil face suggests that maybe he originally had a larger role in the first drafts of LS than the finished game.

The secret to how Paul and Des pull off their disguises is unclear and will remain unclear. There is no plausible explanation for their shape shifting. Unless Paul is just a little dude wearing a human suit like that one Wizard of Oz species and Des is the best quick-changer ever and hides his naturally feminine legs under his cloak.

Alfendi’s mom. When LBMR came out people scrambled to piece together who Hershel had a kid with, but there’s no way alfendi is his biological son. This happened with Kat as well and her biological parents turned out to be brand new characters, so I’m sure Al will get an adoption backstory if his arc continues, be his parents old major characters or nameless, faceless NPCs.

Granny Riddleton and Stachenscarfen are omnipotent deities. Idk which section this fits best under, but these two characters have some serious power. At first introduction, they’re implied to be robots, but they appear everywhere in later games. They follow the Professor wherever he goes and assist him on his adventures, GR collecting puzzles and housing them by some odd magic, and Stachen teaches you how to walk. They both introduce and supervise the gameplay. By extension, I guess this idea could apply to Albus as well in the prequels. GR and Stachen even had the power to appear in LMJ, something no major character could do. I consider them akin to the velvet room attendants from the Persona games.

Clive’s kill count is a vague subject in the game for the sake of keeping it PG. I don’t know if anyone’s ever mathematically estimated the damage he caused, and I sure don’t want to try, but the game appears to push the idea that he didn’t kill anyone at all, saying they stopped him in the nick of time and things like that, even though we watch him raze the city. If they ever want to bring him back post-time skip, I can see them twisting it so that the mobile fortress cutscene wasn’t a linear sequence of events, but instead a compilation of scenes over the course of hours so that London neighborhoods around him could be evacuated and have it make sense. Knowing Level-5, it’s more likely that they wouldn’t think this deep and do something more lazy, though.

Memes and references

Post-time skip Flora is real references the famous L is real theory from Super Mario 64. Like Luigi in SM64, Flora was also a highly anticipated character who didn’t appear in a new game, in this case LMJ or LMDA. In the end, Luigi did become real in the DS port so hopefully Flora is real will be realized as well.

Hershel can’t read is a veteran fandom meme referring to how in the first few games, especially Curious Village, Layton asks Luke to read every document out loud for him. Perhaps this was an exercise to improve Luke’s reading skills and independent thinking, or perhaps he was just too lazy or preoccupied to do it himself, but this grew into the joke that our genius Professor was actually illiterate this whole time.

Layton’s smash invitation is hidden in PLvsAA. It’s no secret that the fandom would kill a man to get the Professor into the smash brothers franchise. In PLvsAA one of the puzzle artworks features a goat eating a familiar white envelope with a red stamp, sparking the joke that either Layton or Wright got the invitation their respective fans desired, but it got lost along the way.

The science board is the mysteriously vague organization Don Paolo got kicked out of for the crime of being evil. It’s the epitome of liberal arts majors and art school graduates trying to bs their way around not knowing any science and failing miserably. “He was very good at all the sciences, but then the CEO of science told him to stop because he was using the power of science for evil science”. They do this again when “Dr. Stahngun” describes his time machine what with the soolha coils and whatnot.

Hoogland is death cult initiation is a parody of “Mario 64 is Freemason initiation” which is ridiculous, just like the creepy human sacrifice subplot of AL.

You can see the reflection of someone watching you in Aurora’s eye references the famous, creepy Talking Angela theory. In retrospect it would’ve been funnier if I said Angela instead of Aurora.

Every copy of Professor Layton is personalized references the famous “every copy of Super Mario 64 is personalized”

Clive’s fat ass in HD is a meme that originated from the announcement of UFHD, saying that half of the excited fans wanted to cry again while the other half were simply attracted to Clive. If we want to enter real bottom-section-of-the-iceberg-chart territory then let’s say Clive’s character has some sort of psychological siren properties that draw people to him like a magnet and/or Harry Styles.

Things I pulled out of my ass for shits and giggles

Infinite hint coin hack: I’m sure a tech savvy cheater could hack the game for infinite hint coins, but there’s no easy or interesting way. I don’t know why someone would do that though, considering a lot of the hints suck and there are puzzle guides on the internet.

Cringy, unused Randall villain monologue. This joke is derived from the actual scrapped MM content as well as deleted content being a popular element of iceberg charts, but it’s sadly not real. Would’ve been hilarious, though.

Last Specter Puzzle 031: Light Height tracks and records children’s intelligence level. It doesn’t, but it’s always fun to make fun of arguably THE most ridiculously difficult puzzle in the franchise. (Seriously, do they expect 7+ year olds to know trigonometry???)

Hershel struggles with tea addiction. Hershel from the games drinks tea in moderation, but the manga begs to differ. He has a tea set in the Laytonmobile, and an attempt at teatime while driving causes him to crash.

Folsense is a metaphor for Alzheimer’s. This is inspired by those edgy kids’ show theories where everyone’s in hell or something, but nobody has ever said this.

London Life is reality and the plot of the games is all in Luke’s head. That’s one way to fill every plot hole. How funny would it be if Luke made up crazy characters and stories based off his fellow townspeople Sharkboy and Lavagirl style. “This dude who lives in a castle and asks people to give him all their money for nothing in return is a vampire from 50 years ago involved in a tragic love story”.

Secret ending encoded into Tago’s Head Gymnastics. It’d be crazy if there was, and Dimitri would hound Tago for the secret to time travel. If you didn’t know, the Layton games started as an adaption of Akira Tago’s puzzle series, except they decided to add a story to make it more interesting and marketable.

Daily puzzles datamine your DS. I’m bad with technology but is it even possible to datamine a DS??? Idk, but I think my DS lite from 2008 is safe.

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valkyrieofsmut · 4 years

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Captive Love 8

UF!Sans x Reader (or Frisk if you wanna)

Summary: Today's the day! The day for going home! And Sweetheart is fed up with it being put off.

A/N: Well, um... now, we're getting into Sweetheart realizing that she's not quite as free to leave as she thought.

Masterlist Series Masterlist

Story

Caught.

A sudden jerking of her body coupled with a noise behind her shoved (Y/n) into a confused state of waking.

“H-uh?” She asked, sounding more like a gasp than a question.

A whimper sounded behind her and she felt bony arms that were thicker than it seemed they should be tighten around her.

(Y/n) looked behind her shoulder, trying to figure out what was happening while forcing her brain to lucidity.

Sans’ arms tightened around her again as he shifted, another pained sounding groan leaving him.

(Y/n) blinked to clear her eyes and reached behind her to pat his hip comfortingly. It sounded like he was having a nightmare.

Sans woke up, and she felt his arms tighten around her, his breathing heavy.

“didn’t mean ta wake ya up, doll…" He told her after catching his breath. "go back ta sleep, sweetheart,” her murmured against her neck.

(Y/n) got comfortable to go back to sleep, but when she realized that it was almost morning, and that it was the day; the day she was going home, she was too excited to manage it.

Sans tried to fall back asleep, but any time he managed to let the darkness of sleep take him, it was fitful and short lived.

Finally, he gave up and climbed from the bed, going to the shower to clean the sweat from himself.

When he got back to his room, pulling his shirt over his head, he walked in, seeing (Y/n) looking up at him from the bed, her lips parted and eyes focused on his chest.

Red spread across his cheekbones and nose, and he quickly tugged his shirt down, feeling self conscious about all of the scars and cracks across his bones.

"uh, s-so- i'm gonna h-head out ta work…" He stuttered, irritation at the stutter filling him.

"S...ns, c...n … com… w...th you?" Her voice ended in a high pitched squeak, and Sans felt his cheekbones get warmer as he gritted his teeth.

so… so fuckin' adorable!

The amount of squeezing he wanted to do to her right then felt like it was abnormal…

"sorry, sweetheart, goin' in the opposite direction. when i get back, though, a'right?" He told her, panic pinching at his soul again.

shit… 's been that long a’ready?

She seemed a little let down, but nodded, giving him a smile and wave as he left the room.

shit. shit shit shit… what’m i gonna do? He asked himself as he went through a shortcut and arrived at his first job for the day. i can't let 'er go- fuck… i can't let'er go, i'll never see 'er 'gain…

Pain seemed to fill his chest and press out on his ribs, making his soul hurt.

He had until the end of the day to come up with something… he just had to think!

(Y/n) sighed as she heard the door downstairs close loudly. They were gone.

She was a bit upset that she had to wait to go back home, but she knew it was horribly selfish of her to expect him to skip work to take her home, something dangerous that could get him seriously hurt, when he was already letting her stay as a guest.

She sighed again. At least she only had to wait until later, when Sans got back. Then she could finally go home.

Her lips twitched up in an embarrassed smile.

She was going to have to give him her number so they could keep in touch- and it had nothing to do with the look of his bare -ribs? chest? body?- self, she'd swear to it!

Though… That look she'd gotten…

His ribs had been the same shade of slightly yellowed, off white that his skull was, but with a sort of glow filling in the spaces between them; the same almost transparent red that his sweat was.

She'd wondered what they felt like- were they the same weathered smoothness as the back of his hands? Or more like the callus like roughness of his palms?

What did the red part feel like?

Would it be like poking jello like she thought it might be? Or would it be like poking the normal connective muscle between bones, like on a human?

Why did she want to know?

She didn't!

No no no!

She really didn't!

...except she kinda did…

-not! She didn't- she didn't!

Oh god… Something is really wrong with me…! She pressed her hands over her face as she screwed her eyes tight. There m ust be something wrong with me… How could I be thinking that a skeleton is… sexy…?!

Sans opened the door, dragging his sneaker clad feet as he trudged into the house and up the stairs.

He was so tired. Working a bunch of odd jobs did that to you, though.

He opened the door to his room and saw (Y/n)'s head turn toward him.

His tired face turned up in a happy grin.

It was so amazing how quickly just seeing her lifted his mood. He never would have guessed that it would feel this good to have her waiting for him when he got home, but the feeling of joy that filled him only made him that much more determined to keep her there with him.

“hey sweetheart,” he greeted.

(Y/n)’s head tilted in concern. Are you ok?

Sans shot her a grin. “‘m fine, jus’ need a nap,” he told her, flopping onto the bed and wrapping his arms around her waist. “i know ya wanted me ta take ya home soon’s i got back, but i need some sleep first, or we’re not gonna have a great time.”

Although it was irritating that she had to wait longer , (Y/n) would freely admit that whatever Sans had done that day had obviously taken it out of him; he looked like the star example of bone tired -ooo, that one is terrible, I should use that one when he wakes up - if the bags under his eyes were anything to go by.

She looked toward the window and saw that there was still a decent amount of light.

She could wait, no problem.

(Y/n) sighed to herself as she stood next to the window looking out.

The sun was starting to hang a bit lower in the sky, just to the edge of evening.

She needed to go soon to have enough time to get home before dark, if it really was as dangerous as they said it was, and it probably was.

She looked back to the bed where Sans was still passed out, snoring.

Damn it… she needed to go soon!

(Y/n) shook her head to herself and clenched her jaw as she looked out the window again.

I should just go…

She paused and pondered over the thought.

Why not?

Sans had said that it would be fine, no one would even be looking for her in three days, it had been three days, today was the day to go…

She started towards him, patting his pocket to find his phone and pulling it free of his coat.

She contemplated his phone for a minute, trying to figure out how to unlock it before just hitting the emergency call and dialing her phone number and leaving herself a blank voicemail so that she’d have his phone number when she got her phone back. Wherever it was.

After that, she stuck the phone back in his pocket and gathered herself, taking a breath before silently wishing Sans goodbye and turning to the door.

Down to the main floor, and no sign of Papyrus’s intimidating presence, she opened the front door and stepped out.

It was beautiful!

Fields, almost a meadow, really, surrounded the house, tall grasses, colorful flowers, trees in the distance on one side… the works.

Too bad monsters would kill me just for being around; this wouldn’t be a bad place to live… She could definitely see why Sans and his brother had chosen this place as their home.

(Y/n) walked around the house, trying to find recognizable landmarks for the city, finally seeing tall buildings in the distance, on the same side as Papyrus’ room, at the opposite side of the house from Sans’. That explained why she hadn’t been able to see anything through his window.

She started forward, pushing the nearly waist deep grass to the side as she moved, trying not to pay attention to the scattered glimmers of what was most likely spiderwebs. It was nature. Spiders deserved houses, too.

A bright light in the shade of a tree caught her attention, and she carefully made her way that direction, since it was generally the same way she had been going, anyway.

As she got closer, she could tell that the bright light was actually a group of glowing flowers.

She crouched down, pushing a curtain of tall grass out of the way, flailing one hand slightly and rubbing it against her pants when it came back sticky with spiderwebs.

Each flower had six petals, and she could see that they were the same sickly translucent color of a blind cave dwelling animal she’d seen in some documentary she’d had to watch for school, but that the beautiful blue-ish glow was coming from inside them and lighting them up that color.

Pushing the grass out of the way again, she reached out and touched one of the flowers, wondering what it felt like, and finding it quite rubbery.

“i wish i could jus' stare at th' stars all night…”

What the hell? (Y/n) wondered. Did that flower just talk?!

She touched the flower again, and it repeated, “i wish i could jus' stare at th' stars all night…”

She touched the one next to it and it spoke as well.

"you're above ground. don't need ta worry 'bout resets."

(Y/n)'s brows met in confusion. Resets? She wondered.

She shook her head and tapped the next flower.

"there's a new star… sweetheart …"

"andromeda’s beautiful t'night."

Just as (Y/n) was about to tap the next flower, a voice behind her startled her, sending her hand into the flower and making them all collide into each other, spilling out their words at the same time on repeat as they bumped into each other and filling the surrounding air with a cacophony of confused noise.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING OUT HERE?"

(Y/n) turned and looked up at Papyrus' towering figure, feeling the blood drain from her face. She tried to open her mouth to answer.

But nothing came out.

His glare seemed to intensify as he demanded, "DOES SANS KNOW THAT YOU'RE OUT HERE?"

(Y/n) again couldn't force any words out of her mouth.

Papyrus let out a grumble before reaching down and grabbing her arm. "AS I SUSPECTED."

He hoisted her up over his other arm, and settled her so that he was carrying her under his arm like a child having a tantrum as she fought to get away from him.

"YOU SHOULDN'T BE OUT HERE ON YOUR OWN. IT'S DANGEROUS. I CAN'T BELIEVE THAT SANS IS BEING SO NEGLIGENT. HE NEEDS TO TAKE MORE RESPONSIBILITY AND BE PROACTIVE IN KEEPING YOU SAFE!" He yelled to her, overpowering all of her quieter attempts to explain this misunderstanding.

With Papyrus’ long legs and wide steps, they made it to the house in what probably would have been record time for (Y/n).

He didn’t put her down, even as they got into the house. Or when he took her up to the second floor landing.

No.

Instead, he held her against his side like she was a naughty child, his arm around her waist, her feet poking awkwardly behind him toward the ground.

At least mine isn’t going to be the only hurt pride , she thought ruefully as he slammed the door to Sans’ room open and stormed in, startling the skeleton into a semi woken state.

“-hkhgn- wu- wassup, paps?” He asked, blinking slowly, the bags under his eyes looking worse, somehow.

“SANS, YOU NEED TO TAKE BETTER CARE OF YOUR HUMAN!!” Papyrus reprimanded. “SHE WAS OUTSIDE! ALONE!”

Sans looked up at them, an easygoing grin stretching his jaw. “‘s fine, boss. ya got ‘er, she ain’t even hurt.”

“THAT IS BESIDES THE POINT, SANS,” Papyrus huffed as he rolled his eye lights.

He seemed to be really good at condescending huffs. (Y/n) wondered for a moment if he could have an entire conversation only using them and facial expressions…

“YOU NEED TO BE RESPONSIBLE!! TAKE BETTER CARE OF YOUR PET!!”

Wait- what? (Y/n)’s expression fell from mild amusement as she thought about huff conversations to shock and resistance as she registered all the implications of his words. Pet?!

Before she could properly get angry or attempt to say anything, Papyrus had tossed her onto the bed, landing her right in front of Sans.

He wrapped his arms around her middle and pulled her closer as he told the taller skeleton, “'s fine, boss, i got it.”

Papyrus just glared at him, then gave a dramatic flip of his scarf as he turned and left.

(Y/n) tried to turn to face Sans, about to demand what the hell his brother had meant, but froze when his face was so close behind her shoulder.

“but seriously, sweetheart,” he started, nuzzling against her shoulder, “ya gotta be careful. there’re monsters out there that’d wanna tear yer flesh from yer bones fer a snack. literally eat ya alive." He chuckled. "y’re jus' lucky i only wanna eat that sweet lil thing ya got b’tween yer thighs,” he told her, his deep voice rumbling against her ear before he seemed to sink back toward sleep, his arms keeping her from getting away.

(Y/n) laid there, eyes wide, frozen.

A feeling filled her with hurt, rejection, anger, and despair, making her rethink everything that had happened so far.

A sick, stomach twisting feeling, that made her feel nauseous and heartbroken.

Betrayal.

A/N: Ah, mentioning again that I have some drabbles; "what if reader has kinks?", barista drabble, if you want to see them. I’m always here if you have questions about the story, or maybe just want to say hi, or I don't know... maybe... have something like a fan project to share...? *more flustered noises* I can hope, dammit!

#underfell sans x reader #uf!sans x you #underfrick #red x reader #underfluff #underfell #underfell sans #tsundere #undertale au #undertale alternate universe #uf!sans x reader #uf!sans #reader insert #y/n #angst

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skelly-survival-guide · 4 years

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Can you tell me what F Pap and SF Sans would do if their SOs came home looking a bit mad and emotional and the SOs 'demanded' affection? They sound angry and demanding, but if they refuse then they'll just go to their room to be alone and cry until they better. But if they listen, then they'll thank them when they calm down. The demands are like 'Kiss me/my cheek/hold my hand/hug me/cuddle me/let me use your lap as a pillow/play with my hair/ect.' Just things that would calm the SOs down.

This would honestly depend on the boys own moods when they get home. If they are in a bad mood themselves they would be more likely to reject any aggressive advances. Even if they are harmless ones. And sometimes if they are busy enough they may not even realize they rejected their own mate. So let's split the scenario shall we? Hehehe! let's start with a rejection!

(Also I won't do double scenarios for a full 4 boys. That's over kill. But you only asked for 2 and this sounded interesting)

Edge (UF!Papyrus)

Rejection

He was growling over the paperwork spread across the kitchen table. His body leaning over it as he went through everything again. Something was missing and he need to find it. When he gets his hands on Sans he was going to throttle him. Tripping him while he was handling important paperwork was not a funny prank.

He didn't so much as blink when he heard his mate slam the door closed behind them. Nor did he stop rummaging through his papers as he heard them stomp towards him.

"Paps come cuddle with me!"

Another growl rumbled from him as he snapped back at them.

"I'M BUSY! IF YOU WANT TO WASTE WHAT'S LEFT OF YOUR DAY BEING LAZY GO FIND MY BROTHER!"

He didn't even stop to ponder the sudden silence or their lack of fight over the subject. It wasn't till later, after he finally found the missing form that he noticed the lack of his mate making a ruckus around the house. Maybe they had gone out?

Making his way upstairs he froze outside their bedroom door. He could hear soft crying from the other side and he spent a moment standing there, floundering in his panic. Were they crying because of him?

After a moment he pulled himself together and entered the dark room. Whatever he did to his mate, he needed to fix it.

Acceptance

It was one of the few days that he allowed himself to fully relax. He usually kept a strict schedule but every now and then he took a day to just rest his bones and do something relaxing. Especially since his mate had gently pushed him to relaxing a bit more.

He would often come home from work so high strung and they were always there to sooth him. And nothing felt better then coming home to a mate who would rub his back and neck bones till he was little more then a pile of mush.

So when they came home with a slam of the door he was instantly on alert. They weren't the type to slam things around. When they walked around towards the couch he got a good look at them. Arms crossed, shoulders hunched and they wouldn't look him in the eyes which made their demanding tone catch him off guard for a moment.

"Paps! Hold me!"

He paused. He knew exactly what he was looking at. Fear of being seen as weak. It was like looking at a reflection of what he had been like before he had met them. He didn't quite like seeing that reflection on his mate.

Well there was only one thing he could do about it. He pulled them down and settled them on his lap. He didn't give them the chance to let out more demands. His claws already combing through their hair and his fangs nuzzling against their neck.

Black (SF!Sans)

Rejection

He was wound up tight today. His own job having stressed him out to the point of seething. He was still the captain of the royal guard even on the surface. Their people too militaristic to just disband their police force.

But now he had to find and train new recruits ! And let's just say that they were beyond just lacking in experience. They were bumbling oafs that didn't know which side of the sword was the dangerous one!

He heard his mate come home, of course he did, even when they were trying to be quite they had no talent for stealth.

"Sans come hug me!"

He growled low in his throat at the demanding tone in their voice, not really thinking about what it was they had demanded of him. Simply snapping back as he turned to them.

"I AM NOT IN THE MOOD FOR ANY OF YOUR GAMES AT THE MOMENT! IF YOU WISH TO BE A BRAT THEN SAVE IT FOR LATER!"

He turned on his heal and stalked out of the room and towards his study. He had things to do.

Later as he groaned over his finally finished paperwork he heard a knock on the door. It was probably his mate. With a sigh he beckoned them in.

It was not his mate. His brother stood there leaning against the doorframe, an unusually stern look on his face.

"yer an ass. ya know tha right?"

He sighed as he rubbed his skull.

"SO YOU'VE TOLD ME MANY TIMES. WHAT DID I DO THIS TIME THEN?"

"wow ya really are an ass if ya don't even notice makin yer own mate cry."

He froze. He made his mate cry? What? Why? When? Then he remembered. He snapped at them when they got home.

Shit! Shit shit shit shit!

"SHIT!"

He nearly stumbled as he shot up out of his chair and darted for their room.

Acceptance

He was in his study when he heard the front door slam. It nearly made him jump, not used to such loud noises in his house unless he was the one making them. The familiar sound of his mate pacing around the house helped him relax though.

Going back to his book he sipped at the glass of wine in his other hand. After just a few minutes he could hear their approach. Bare feet making a soft patting sound on the wood floors.

He smirked but kept his nasal ridge buried in his book, as if he couldn't hear their every step through the house. He had to raise Papyrus after all. If he could tell when that teleporting lay about was trying to sneak out then he could hear anything that went on in these walls.

He had expected his mate to try and snag his book or make themselves at home on his lap but they didn't and that immediately caught his full attention.

Looking up at them only made his worry worse. They were wringing their hand together, their gaze looking at his desk instead of him.

"Kiss me."

What? If they wanted a kiss they didn't even have to ask for one let alone demand it. When he remained silent for a moment he watched as they shifted back a step. As if they were going to retreat.

With a flare of magic he halted them then pulled them into his lap. His sharp teeth gently pressing down on their soft mouth with a low growl.

"You seem upset my dear, so I'll let your behavior slide for now. But please do remember, that I'm the only one who gives demands here."

He let his teeth wander to their neck. It would seem he needed to help his mate forget a stressful day.

#underfell #swapfell #sans #papyrus #underfell papyrus #uf!papyrus #swapfell sans #sf!sans

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vexy-sins · 4 years

Text

Kinktober 2019: Day Three

Pairing: Polyruses (UT!Papyrus x US!Papyrus x UF!Papyrus x SF!Papyrus)

Featured Kinks: Breastplay/Nippleplay, Breeding, Phallic Gags, Shower

Additional Warnings: Skelepreg (mention), threesome, extremely late, a bit wordy, not much shower kink

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Edge had babies on the brain lately. He found himself watching videos of babies on the internet, cooing over how adorable baby clothes were, and occasionally imagining himself with a gently curved stomach and a soulling (or two!) nestled safely inside. The more he thought about it, the more he wanted it. The decision was made; Edge wanted to bear a child.

All he needed to do now was broach the subject with his boyfriends… all three of them. How could he decide which one should father the soulling? He loved them all equally, and all three of them would be good candidates for breeding. Maybe they could work something out as a foursome…?

Edge broached the subject over a hearty breakfast prepared by Papyrus. Honey and Russ chowed down, but Edge pushed his food around on his plate for a few moments before tentatively saying: “I think… that I want to have a baby.”

After a split second of stunned silence, Papyrus, Honey, and Russ all spoke at once, saying the exact same words in perfect unison: “With me?”

Edge couldn’t hold back an affectionate chuckle. He loved these other skeletons with all of his SOUL; he could never choose between them! “I thought maybe… we could all try to make a baby together?” he suggested hesitantly. Sure, the four of them shared a very fulfilling polyamorous relationship, but Edge wasn’t sure how the other skeletons would feel about breeding him together. The four of them shared similar physical traits; it would be difficult if not impossible to know whose magic truly sired the child… just as Edge intended.

“May we have a moment to discuss it?” Papyrus asked politely, laying a slim hand on Honey and Russ’s shoulders. Honey appeared to be stunned and thoughtful, but Russ looked like he might jump across the table and tackle Edge to the kitchen floor to breed him then and there. None of them had refused or shown signs of disgust thankfully, and Edge thought discussing it sounded like a good idea. Having a child wasn’t something to take lightly.

“Take your time talking it over,” Edge offered with a loving smile to each of his boyfriends, so alike in appearance yet so different in personality, “I’m going upstairs to shower.”

Edge had barely vanished through the kitchen door before Honey and Russ shared a mischievous look and dashed off after him. Chuckling to himself, Papyrus gave the breakfast dishes a quick rinse before following after them. Someone had to keep things tidy if they were planning to welcome a babybones into the world!

Meanwhile, Honey and Russ cornered Edge in the bathroom, enthusiastically helping him undress. Their own clothing haphazardly littered the stairway, another chore for Papyrus before he joined them. Honey turned on the hot water while Russ nuzzled their lover’s neck, and as steam began to rise from the cool surface of the bathtub, Honey turned his attention to Edge’s pelvis.

Russ nibbled vertebrae while Honey’s agile tongue curled around Edge’s pubic symphysis.

Dark red magic pooled low in Edge’s pelvis, taking on the shape of plump pussy lips with an already swollen clit just aching to be touched. Two small round breasts appeared on Edge’s ribcage, much to Russ’ delight. Their lover wore his feminine form with such grace and beauty that it almost seemed a shame to ravage him. Not that Honey or Russ ever let shame stop them.

A proverbial throat cleared from the bathroom doorway, momentarily distracting the three skeletons from their foreplay. Papyrus stood there with one hand on his hip. In the other hand he held a special phallic gag that could be infused with magic to deliver the pleasure of oral stimulation to one or more monsters whose magic infused it- a favorite toy of the polyamorous quartet.

“You’re wasting all of the hot water,” Papyrus chided gently. He tossed the phallic gag to Edge, who caught it easily. Edge held it up, raising one brow bone in a silent question. “That will keep us all primed to perform whenever we aren’t bottomed out in your silky sweet pussy,” he explained, “and without wasting even a drop of precious cum.” The three other skeletons nodded their approval. “It looks a bit crowded in here though, so I’ll await my turn in the bedroom.”

The door closed behind Papyrus with an appropriately perk click sound, and huge lecherous grins spread across Russ and Honey’s faces. Edge opened his mouth wide, letting his tongue protrude slightly to invite in the gag that shimmered with the magic of three skeletons. Once Honey had affixed the straps to hold the gag in place in Edge’s warm, wet mouth, Russ offered him a hand to help him into the shower… and then the fun began.

Russ lifted Edge by the femurs, angling him perfectly for penetration and graciously allowing Honey to go first, though he had ulterior motives. Lubed by the hot water and rock hard from Edge’s tongue stroking the phallic gag, Honey slid easily between Edge’s silken folds and deep into his hungry pussy. Edge moaned against the gag, causing Russ’ erection to throb against his coccyx, leaving a sticky bead of precum that the cascade of hot water quickly erased.

Honey gripped Edge’s pelvis as he began to thrust, relieving Russ from holding him up and allowing Russ’ hands to explore elsewhere, just as he had planned. Russ loved it when Edge formed tits; they were always perfect small handfuls with extremely sensitive nipples. Russ caught those nipples now between his phalanges and rolled them. If Edge had been standing, his legs would’ve gone weak from pleasure.

Russ nuzzled Edge’s scapula, phalanges deftly massaging Edge’s breasts, imagining them full with milk for their babybones. He closed his eyes and sighed. Having a babybones with his lovers would be the only thing in this world that could beat having sex with his lovers. He couldn’t wait to fill Edge with his cum and breed him properly. If only Honey would hurry up…

The moment Honey’s thrusts stuttered to a halt and his cum poured into Edge, Russ tilted Edge forward, lifting him from Honey’s still-hard cock and pushing him forward into Honey’s arms. Russ slammed into Edge from behind, rough and eager, trading the pleasure of toying with Edge’s breasts for the tight heat of pounding into his pussy, hands braced on his hips to maximum the force.

Honey, ever-playful, gently blew on Edge’s erect nipples, and Edge gulped and moaned against the phallic gag delightfully. Honey leaned forward, taking first one nipple then the other into his mouth sucking them until they were pulled taut and almost raw. He idly wondered what Edge’s milk would taste like and if the scarred skeleton would allow them to play with his tits after the babybones arrived.

Russ hilted hard inside of Edge, and soon his cum joined Honey’s. Russ didn’t pull out right away, worried that he might spill some of their precious seed. Instead he let Edge’s clenching pussy swallow it deep, the way Edge swallowed against the gag, making Honey’s cock dribble precum, ready for another round of fucking. They couldn’t forget their other lover though. Papyrus was waiting.

Russ carried Edge, bones still slick and damp from the shower, into the bedroom where Papyrus awaited them. Papyrus, always the thoughtful one, had lit some candles and made the bed with soft sheets and warm blankets.

“I called our jobs and let them know we’d be away for the weekend,” Papyrus said, eyelights raking Edge’s feminine form and drifting to his arousal and cum slicked pussy lips. “Let’s make it worth it, shall we?”

Papyrus took Edge from Russ and laid him reverently on the bed, then he positioned Edge’s legs onto his shoulders, checking to make sure Edge was comfortable before slowly entering him. Papyrus fucked Edge with intense focus, adding his cum to Edge’s already overflowing pussy before the three skeleton changed places and started the rotation again.

----------

The four tall skeletons spent the entire weekend in sweet orgasmic ecstasy, only taking breaks from the pounding of Edge’s aching pussy for food, hydration, and, occasionally, to clean themselves up. The morning that they were all scheduled to return to work, Edge awoke to a trio of soullings glowing softly in his stomach where his lovers’ cum had so recently swirled.

He rolled over to wake them, only to realize that they were well and truly spent from breeding him constantly all weekend. He decided that he could wait a few more hours to show them their success.

READ ON AO3

DAY TWO | INDEX | DAY FOUR

#vex does kinktober #kinktober 2019 #undertale kinktober

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minijenn · 4 years

Text

Universe Falls Chapter 77, Part 1

Ah boy time to start arc 8′s mini arc that everyone keeps forgetting about in the shortest chapter UF has had in a LONG while. Also I wrote this in like, the span of 12 hours so... ya know. Enjoy! (also please don’t read this on here, dumblr won’t carry over how this is SUPPOSED to be formatted so please go read it on Ao3 or FF.net to get the experience of how this chapter is SUPPOSED to look)

Previous: https://minijenn.tumblr.com/post/190860858504/universe-falls-chapter-76

***

Chapter 77: Adventures in the Multiverse

Part 1: The Nightmare Realm

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GVXNLK EIKW BV ZOX FHISAM UM BFS YINZZ

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Within the quiet solitude of his private study in the second sublevel below the shack, Ford had always found that he’d been able to find comfort and solace solely in the simplicity of his own research. Even thirty years ago, the author would frequently retreat to this tranquil space, take a seat in his favorite chair at his favorite desk, and lose himself in his work on the journals, eagerly documenting his latest discoveries within the pages of his trio of journals. Away from the world and awash in his own thoughts, reflections, and recollections, a better place to be some nights than others, especially when it came to the nights when it had still been him sitting at that desk, only with someone else taking the reigns of his mind instead.

Yet that was far from the case on this particular night as Ford described the latest happenings in the later pages of his lattermost journal. A rather uneventful entry given that the day had been sparse of any supernatural or alien encounters, yet the author still found documenting his thoughts and observations a worthy use of his time all the same.

Once again I was faced with an all-too familiar question today, one that I’ve been hearing more and more frequently from the children as of late. First it came from Dipper, not surprising given his admirable drive to learn and discover everything and anything he can (not unlike myself when I was younger). Then it came from Steven, likely as a result of the Gems leaving him out of the loop (I’ve come to understand they tend to do that to him from time to time, poor lad). But oddly enough, today it came from Mabel, which admittedly caught me off guard. Perhaps curiosity has been getting the better of all three of them in their recent idle time. Even so, as usual, I had no suitable answer to that inquiry. Sometimes it seems as though I never really will either.

The author paused his pen, letting out a long sigh as he glanced up from the journal to the flickering candlelight coming from the wick set before him. He’d never been particularly fond of dwelling on the past and yet he constantly found himself doing so all the same whether he wanted to or not. And yet this, like many things he’d been through back in the day, was one lengthy span of time he was far from keen on dwelling on.

Which was exactly why he tried everything he could to avoid it. And yet that familiar question, whether it was from one of the kids, one of the Gems, or someone else entirely, still always seemed to follow him all the same:

“Where were you for the past 30 years?”

It’s not that I’m afraid or even that hesitant to discuss any of it. The problem is, I never know how to begin or what to reveal. A lot can happen in the span of 30 years, and in my case, a great deal did happen. Moments of triumph, moments of despair, moments of fear, spread so far and so broad across so many scattered dimensions. Some days it feels as though it’s not over yet, even now that I’m back in the comfort of my own home. It’s hard to say if I’ll ever truly be able to make sense of it all, but… maybe it might be worth the effort to, at the very least, try.

Try. Try to confront something that he’d been avoiding ever since he stepped through the portal back into his basement lab. Try to stitch together the pieces of a story that spanned worlds, galaxies, even dimensions themselves. Try to face a past he’d just as rather leave behind entirely.

I suppose trying is the best I can do in this case. And perhaps writing about some of it here will help me get my thoughts in order. Perhaps it’s time I finally reveal…

My Journey

I remember those first moments after I was cast into the portal like it was yesterday.

"Stanley! Please! Tell Rose Quartz I’m sorry!” His last message to his brother, or more precisely, to the pink Gem, echoed all around him through the bright white void he’d found himself sucked into. A void that led to what could very well become his demise, a thought that he barely even had time to grapple with as he tumbled through the empty light.

The sudden feeling of weightlessness, the helpless terror, knowing that I would soon face whatever mysterious horror had driven Fiddleford to madness.

As I felt myself being sucked away from my home (a dimension I would come to learn is referred to in the multiverse as 514÷Y), I held my breath and accepted that this could be the end.

As luck would have it, it was only the beginning.

In a startling flash, the white void faded away, finally allowing Ford his first (albeit somewhat blurry) glimpse as to what lay beyond it. Initially, it almost looked like a vast expanse of endless stars, much like an earthly spacescape would appear. Yet in a striking instant, that all changed, the stars burning out as the dark skies turned blood crimson. From there, that red violently exploded into a sickening shade of green, mingled with clashing pinks and oranges. Over and over again, the expanse shifted colors, constantly changing on its own wild whims as it swirled with a chaotic, unstable sort of energy, one that Ford could feel from the moment he found himself caught within it.

Swimming through the gravity-free area of lightning and swirling colors, I reached into my pocket for a spare pair of glasses (always handy, considering how often I break them) and found myself staring at, quite literally, a living nightmare.

As a speeding torrent of blazing asteroids rushed past him, the author jolted with fear, still largely overwhelmed with shock to do much else. Disoriented as he was, some small part of his mind still tried clinging onto logic amidst the dangerous disorder he was now lost within. And as he took another look around his hectic new surroundings, he starkly realized where it all was.

“And what is on the other side of that portal, Ford?” Rose had asked him, her voice tight and intense with growing dread.

“What did you really have us build down here, Stanford?” Pearl had demanded harshly, glaring at him with immense suspicion all the while. “A portal to another dimension, or something far more sinister?”

“I know what I saw in there!” Fiddleford had cried in a wild-eyed panic as he pointed an accusing finger at the portal he’d just barely been recovered from. “It was a nightmare, plain n’ simple!”

“Let’s just say that when that portal finishes charging up, your dimension is really gonna learn how to PARTY! Right guys?” Bill had cheerfully encouraged his “friends”, a group of ghouls and monsters all eagerly awaiting the portal’s completion just as much as the dream demon himself was. Something that their sinister whispers had been reminding him of on a near-constant, maddening loop for the past several weeks now:

“The door is open…”

Ford gasped, much louder than he had meant to as the sound echoed through the immense empty space around him. His heart was hammering his chest, his panic rising as he knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt exactly where he now was.

I found myself sucked through the door to the place Bill had designated the portal to access, a place called many different things: the dimension between dimensions, the in-between space, the gateway to other worlds…

The Nightmare Realm. The very place Bill Cipher himself calls home.

Bill’s universe is not exactly a dimension, but rather a boiling, shifting, intergalactic foam between dimensions--a lawless, unstable crawl space between worlds that only the strangest and most unknowable beings call home. And as the portal closed behind me, I found myself trapped there, possibly for eternity.

The entirety of the Nightmare Realm rippled with yet another wave of electric, chaotic energy, one that rattled Ford to the core with terror just as much as all of the others had before it. And yet, this one was the most terrifying by far as he spun around in the weightless space-scape, only to find a sight that made his heart sink all the way to his stomach. For the very same white void he’d emerged here from, the portal itself, his sole gateway back home to everything he’d ever known, simply exploded. In a burst of blinding, bitter light, it was wiped away like a star in a supernova, leaving nothing, no gateway out, no way to escape, left in its wake.

He was trapped here, armed with only the clothes on his back and nothing else to ensure his survival. The chances of which, he knew, were likely ridiculously low, if they were even existent at all. He was lost, with no hope and no help. For certainly, no one would be able to come to his rescue in a place like this; not Stan, not Fiddleford, not any of the Gems, not even Rose herself. And that was perhaps the very worst part of it all: he was alone.

Though the truth of it was, he wasn’t as alone as he thought. Though considering the company that was about to find him, he’d very soon wish he was.

The constant dull, inconsistent clamor that filled the Nightmare Realm was suddenly broken, shattered like glass with a piercing, shrill laugh that Ford was far too familiar with by this point. Once again, the realm shifted, landing the author in another setting entirely, one streaked in sharp shadows and the bright, bizarre sets of eyes that belonged to those shadows. Yet Ford hardly paid them any mind as he instead seized up with fear while that laugh, that wild, insane, undeniable laugh rang loud and clear in his ears, just as it had in the fitful nightmares he’d been having as of late.

He knew exactly what he’d find if he turned around, exactly who he’d have to face. And worse yet, this time, he wouldn’t merely be facing him in dreams; he’d be facing him on his own home turf. Quite frankly, he was surprised that the dream demon hadn’t already killed him the moment he found him in his realm. But Bill was never one to get to the point, which was why Ford figured he’d do so instead.

Before I had a moment to properly panic over my fate, I realized that I was hovering before Bill himself, who was perched on a bizarre throne made of optical illusions, flanked by an army of strange and shadowy beasts.

On his throne, Bill sat surprisingly calmly, as if he was hardly even surprised to see Ford, of all people in the dimension he called home. If anything, the dream demon seemed delighted, leaning forward slightly as he finally greeted the terrified author as brightly as he always did. “Look who finally decided to pay me a visit!” he quipped, his voice echoing through the infinity all around them. “Not that I wasn’t expecting you to show up, Sixer. After your poor buddy Glasses got a glimpse of the place a few weeks ago, I knew you wouldn’t be too far behind!”

This callous mention of his former friend was finally enough to shake Ford out of his initial fear, setting him off with a fuel of righteous fury toward the demon who had been tormenting him for so long now. “B-Bill…” he began, forcing himself to be steady in the face of his hated foe. “I-if you think you’ve won, then you’re sorely mistaken. I don’t know if you just saw what I did, but the portal closed. It’s over, Cipher. You lose!”

Despite this bold claim, Bill simply let out another haughty laugh, hovering off his throne a bit to gain even more height as he towered high above the author. “Aw, c’mon, Fordsy, don’t tell me you’re THAT deluded! You really think that portal of yours shutting itself down is gonna stop me? Some dumb sap is bound to come along and get it running again eventually. And till then, I’ve got all the time in the world to wait. Unlike you, Sixer. Get it? ‘Cause your time is about to run out? It’s FUNNY!”

“You’re wrong!” Ford shot back fiercely. “That portal will never reopen again, Rose will make sure of it! I know she will!”

“Oh yeah, cause ol’ Quartzy is soooo reliable,” Bill rolled his eye. “That’s why she left you hanging out to dry when your first test run went south, huh? Or why she’s NOT here to save you, her human of the week or the decade or whatever, from me! Right? RIGHT?”

“I-I don’t want her to come here to save me!” the author argued, his hands clenched in tight fists at his sides. “I don’t want anyone ever opening that portal; it should have been destroyed, just like Rose said.” Ford paused at this, letting out a sad, remorseful sigh as he rubbed the back of his neck. “And if I’d just listened to her in the first place, then I wouldn’t have ended up here…”

“Should’ve, could’ve, would’ve, but you DIDN’T!” the dream demon mocked almost mirthfully, clearly taking pleasure in this entire situation as a whole. “But tell me, Sixer; wouldn’t you want somebody to get that portal up and running again? It’d give you a chance to get out of here, prolong your ultimately destined-to-end-anyway life a bit instead of having it cut short just by being here! After all, humans don’t tend to last long in the Nightmare Realm. We play a bit… rough around here, don’t we, boys?”

Bill’s horde of accompanying, unknown demons all let out a round of hearty, sadistic chuckles at this, laughter that sent a chill down Ford’s spine yet he refused to back down regardless. “I don’t care about going back to my own dimension,” he said firmly, and he meant it. After all, it wasn’t like there was very much left there for him anyway now. “Just as long as you’re kept out of it too, that’s all that matters to me.”

“Aw, so Brainiac wants to play the big, tough hero now, huh?” Bill scoffed flippantly. “Hate to break it to ya, Sixer, but I’m bound to get what I want either way. But it’s a shame you won’t be around to watch me tear the fabric of your dimension to shreds and grind those Crystal Chumps you care so much about to spacedust. ‘Cause ya see, Stanford, I’m not the one who’s about to lose here. YOU ARE!”

The dream demon’s golden form turned a harsh, deadly red at this, his eye pitch black as its white pupil glared down at the frightened author relentlessly. And as his usual bright blue flames erupted all around him, his eagerly watching cronies and cohorts all began to gather in closer, ready to attack.

“CARE FOR A GAME OF INTERGALACTIC CHESS?!” Bill shrieked, his booming voice rattling the entire Nightmare Realm as it took on the same sort of aggressive crimson as its king. “THIS TIME, YOU’RE THE PAWN!”

He snapped his fingers and one of his beasts, a 60-foot-fall ball of fingers and teeth, let out a howl like a humpback whale and charged a me, fingers and teeth wiggling and gnashing! Though I hadn’t had much time to think or plan since my arrival in the Nightmare Realm, I knew right off the bat that escaping was my only chance at survival.

Acting on adrenaline and instinct, Ford forced himself to spin around amidst the gravity-free expanse, frantically swimming forward in midair as the monster lunged toward him hungrily. It nearly caught him too, though the author barely managed to outmaneuver it, dodging its path in just the nick of time. Still, he was close enough to it as it passed him by to give him a window of opportunity, exactly the one he needed to get away.

For right as the creature began turning itself back around, Ford pushed himself to “jump” onto one of its many massive hands, using it as something of a springboard to propel himself away from the monster entirely. With this newfound momentum, the author sailed through the ever-changing realm quite a distance, putting some much-needed distance between himself and the monster as it attempted to right itself and go after him.

And in time, it did so, tailing him as he continued pushing himself through space with as much force and speed as he possibly could. However, the monster was every bit as persistent as he was, intent on acting on Bill’s orders and catching its prey as it continued the chase without any signs of ceasing. Fortunately for Ford, however, as he turned his sights forward once again, he found just the cover he needed to end it. Or at the very least, give him a much-needed chance to breathe amidst all of the endless insanity he was up against.

I managed to hide behind an asteroid field in the nick of time as the monstrosity passed me by, and I swam through the air in a panic as multiple beasts tore through the space rocks, searching for me.

As the author took refuge in a dense collection of asteroids, he could hear a series of approaching roars and rumbles, no doubt from all of Bill’s other beasts as they all assembled to go after him as well. Unsure of what else to do, Ford pressed tight against one of the larger rocks, hoping that he wouldn't be seen. Without any sort of weapon to speak of, there would be no fighting back against creatures as dangerous and unpredictable as these, which meant that escaping from them as all he could really do. Or, at the very least, hiding in the hopes that he could come up with some sort of plan to put an end to this madness before it was too late. And fortunately, it seemed as though some small shamble of luck was still somehow on his side in his otherwise luckless plight. For as he dashed toward another asteroid to hide behind, he happened to spot an even better escape instead.

Fleeing for my life, I miraculously managed to take shelter in the crater of a large passing asteroid as the monsters swarmed by. Hidden deep within the recesses of the stony caverns, I could hear Bill’s shrill voice:

“SIXER WANTS TO PLAY HIDE AND SEEK! FIRST ONE TO FIND HIM AND BRING HiM TO ME GETS THEIR OWN GALAXY!”

It was followed by the manic laughter of creatures large and small racing off to locate me. I was so crazed from fatigue and rage that my first impulse was to give myself up to Bill so I could curse him right to his face. And at the time, I figured I might as well do exactly that since the chances of me realistically making it out of the hellish dimension I was now trapped in here were essentially none.

With Bill’s horde of monsters and demons successfully evaded for the time being, Ford had finally found a moment to rest, not that he actually found any such solace in it though. Instead, the author slumped down against the cavern wall, staring off into the immense darkness ahead so he wouldn’t have to look back into the endlessly shifting scape of the Nightmare Realm in its place.

Had it really just been mere moments ago that he had been standing back in his own basement lab, face to face with his twin brother? Had it really been a mere moment, just one unfortunate second that had turned his life upside down, or rather, had ruined it completely? The author knew he had a long list of people he could pin the blame on for his disastrous plight: Stan, Bill, himself. And yet that blame would hardly do him much good here. Because as long as he remained entrenched in the horrors of the Nightmare Realm, then he was essentially just waiting to die.

The moment he realized this fact was the same moment he realized he was shaking, his hands trembling with cold fear that had filled him from the second he arrived in this awful place. When he had been a young, innocent boy, he’d always dreamed of going on some grand, high-stakes adventure, a dream that both him and Stan had shared. But now that he was actually living that dream, or nightmare rather, it was far from anything he’d once hoped it would be.

Amidst that chilling terror, he could also feel warmth, building up behind his eyes as they started to turn wet. A small sob choked its way out of his throat as he hugged his knees close to his chest. Briefly, he was finally able to take stock of his tattered lab coat, his fresh pair of glasses already slightly cracked from the fray he’d narrowly managed to escape. Yet none of that even remotely mattered to him now. What did matter were all of the things he was all-too-quickly realizing he’d never get to do.

He’d never see his home again, be within the familiarity of the house that sat in the shadow of a temple he’d come to see as a beacon of hope and security. He’d never see the constant stars resting over the peaceful waters of the lake or hear the morning birds greet another crisp Oregonian morning. He’d never write within the pages of his treasured journals, or explore all that the strange, yet beautiful town of Gravity Falls, a place he’d come to lose so much in such a short amount of time.

He’d never get to make amends with Fiddleford for the harrowing experience he’d put him through. He’d never get to apologize to Garnet, Amethyst, and Pearl for dragging them into his disaster. He’d never be able to tell Rose just how much he valued her friendship, how much he wished he could win her trust back and how much he had trusted her, how he still trusted her, even despite everything, in turn. And even though some part of him was furious, outraged that Stan’s foolishness had gotten him into this mess in the first place, another part of him still mourned that he’d never get to see his brother again either.

He would never be able to go home again. And given the mounting list of disastrous mistakes he’d made, it was probably the only fate he knew he really deserved.

Ford had all but lost himself to grief over that fact when suddenly, a small, yet still prominent noise coming from deeper within the cave he’d taken shelter in. Slowly and carefully, the author rose to stand, peering deeper into the darkness where the faint whispers were coming from. He was hesitant to follow them, initially believing them to be coming from more of Bill’s henchmen, lurking in the shadows, just waiting to attack. And yet, these soft, almost scared whispers were a far cry from the raving, manic screams and shrieks of the monsters outside. Which was exactly why Ford allowed curiosity to get the better of him as he stepped into the darkness, not knowing what he’d find.

What he did manage to find, however, was perhaps the last thing he could have ever expected.

Pressing further ahead into the cavern, I discovered that I was sharing my hiding spot with a shivering family of intergalactic refugees.

Sure enough, a group of four alien creatures of varying species and sizes sat, each of them bandaged and war-torn in different ways as they desperately tried to keep themselves warm around their small, strangely glittering purple fire. Ford stopped short just shy of approaching them, stunned by their presence as they were by his when they caught sight of him. And yet, instead of pulling out any sort of weapons to attack, the group offered the author a series of sympathetic, consoling looks as their leader, squat, snaggletoothed, guinea pig-like creature with an eyepatch and a mechanical arm, calmly beckoned him forward.

“You lost your way out there too?” he asked with something of a folksy draw to his tone. “Can’t blame ya, you wouldn’t be the first. C'mere and join the rest of us lost souls. Warmin’ up ‘round the fire is leagues better than tryin’ your chances out there, that’s for sure.”

Ford said nothing at first, eyeing the group warily until he realized their leader was right. At the very least, these creatures didn’t see intent on eating him alive like Bill’s were.

“T-thank you,” the author said, holding his hands out toward the violet flames in the hopes that the warmth would finally cease their endless shaking. “If you don’t mind me asking… what exactly are all of you and… what are you doing in… well, to put it lightly, here?”

“Heh,” one of the other members of the group, a small, somewhat pig-like creature chuckled bitterly. “Ain’t that the story of the multiverse?”

“A tale of great sadness and woe indeed,” the most reptilian creature of the group, complete with a long neck and a bandaged stub of an arm shook his head morosely.

“One that’s probably not bound to get a happy ending at this point,” the final member of the group, a horned, fanged creature sighed tiredly.

“But before we get into that depress fest,” the leader grumbled, shaking his head at his despairing friends. “Allow us to introduce ourselves first. The name’s Yottos. Put ‘er there.” Ford shook the robotic hand Yottos offered to him before he began to go through the rest of the refugees. “That’s Hocoh,” he nodded to the pig-like creature on the other side of the fire. “He’s Qharquains.” The reptilian creature waved his stub of a bandaged arm in greeting. “And he’s-”

“I’m George,” the horned creature finished bluntly, catching the author quite off guard.

“Huh… that’s a… surprisingly normal name,” Ford pointed out with a frown.

“You kiddin’? It’s the strangest name in the whole dang multiverse!” Hocoh laughed, slapping his knee. Likewise, Yottos and Qharquains also joined in on the bout of laughter, flustering George in the process.

“So you guys keep saying!” he grumbled petulantly. “Y-you’re just mad ‘cause your names aren’t as cool as mine! You!” he looked to Ford somewhat suspiciously. “What’s your name, newbie?”

“Oh, I-I’m Stanford,” the author introduced himself. “Stanford Pines.”

The refugees fell silent at this as they all looked to the author incredulously. “Hm. And I thought George was an odd name...” Qharquains remarked, eliciting another frustrated growl from George as the other two refugees laughed once more.

“Guys! Stop it!”

“Now then, Stanford Pines,” Yottos began, his tone turning serious as he looked to the author once more. “Ya asked for our story and here it is. We were just a bunch of humble asteroid miners, hard at work for an honest day’s livin on the stardust fields just off of Oloxion 9.”

“We were just ‘bout to head home for the day when BAM! FLASH!” Hocoh exclaimed dramatically. “A GIANT wormhole shows up, clean outta nowhere, and sucks our ship inside with all us on it!”

“When we all came to, we found ourselves drifting here, within the forbidden gateway between worlds,” Qharquains explained evenly. “With our ship irreparably damaged, we were lost, in the very place where all things in the multiverse that go missing tend to end up in.”

“We barely managed to escape from all of those… horrible monsters…” George shuddered fearfully. “And we’ve been hiding out here ever since, both from them… and… f-from him…”

“...You mean… Bill?” Ford ventured, only to receive a sharp and sudden reaction from the refugees. A round of horrified shrieks rose up from the group, panic filling their expressions as they covered their ears to try to avoid hearing the dream demon’s name in any way possible. Somewhat confused, the author looked between the frightened members of the group, both understanding their alarm and trying to make sense of it all at the same time. “Is… something wrong?”

“Do not speak the demon’s name!” Qharquains warned fearfully. “He has ears everywhere here…”

“He’ll hear you, t-then show up here, a-and DESTROY US ALL!” George cried, shaking as he pulled his hood over his eyes.

“If you’re here, then you gotta know,” Hocoh said sternly, seriously. “That demon, nah, that monster is nothin’ but trouble!”

“Tch, don’t I know it,” Ford scoffed bitterly, crossing his arms. “Believe it or not, I used to consider Bill--er, t-that… demon,” the author corrected himself as the refugees shrunk back in terror once more. “To be my muse. I let him influence me, trick me, into building an interdimensional portal and it’s because of that portal that I ended up here in the first place… And all because I stubbornly refused to listen to my closest friend when she told me he was not to be trusted…”

“Your friend sounds like she’s got a good head on her shoulders,” Yottos nodded in agreement. “Cause she’s right. Ya can’t trust a monster like him. In fact, you’d be pretty stupid to even listen to a single word he has to say!”

“I can’t believe you didn’t know,” George shook his head incredulously. “That demon’s one of the most feared beings in the whole multiverse! Everybody, and I mean everybody knows he’s always been bad news and will always be bad news!”

“Legend has it that he took over this realm eons ago,” Qharquains said gravely. “He used it as a hideout for himself and his equally chaotic allies, a place just as lawless and insane as they are. However, the Nightmare Realm is doomed for destruction. It has no consistent physics that it can adhere to, nothing to keep it stable. Which is why, in time, it will eventually implode, taking everything and everyone that calls it home with it.”

“So… that must be why Bill was so intent on that portal being built…” Ford muttered to himself, finally understanding the scope of the dream demon’s plan.

The Nightmare Realm… a dimension between dimensions that was never meant to exist in the first place. A plane of chaos and disaster so immense that even the multiverse itself wants it gone. That’s why Bill seeks a new, more stable dimension to take over, much like he had his current ruinous home, and a foolish mind willing to let him in. A mind like mine.

“I’m going to stop him!” Ford exclaimed, largely without thinking. The refugees all turned to him, dumbfounded and stunned, especially as he explained himself further. “If Bill--if that demon really does pose such a large threat to both my home and the the multiverse as a whole as you say, then someone needs to put an end to his destructive plans. And that someone is going to be me.”

“B-but that’s crazy!” George balked in utter disbelief.

“What makes you think you’ll stand a chance against someone as powerful as that demon?” Hocoh asked, not buying the author’s verve. “Nobody who’s ever tried standin’ up to him has ever lived to tell the tale.”

“That doesn’t matter,” Ford shook his head, resolved. “He has to be stopped, some way or another. Before he really can escape the Nightmare Realm. Too many lives have been ruined because of his antics, including my own. That’s why it’s time to put an end to him, to prevent him from ruining any more.”

“Tch, you’re not all there, are ya, Stanford Pines?” Yottos asked, finally cracking a wry smile. “Still, ya got guts, and we can’t help but respect that, can we, boys?” The other refugees all nodded in agreement at this, though it was clear they were still rather baffled by Ford’s unflinching determination all the same. “If you’re really dead set on facin’ that demon, then let us help ya out.” Yottos dug into his bag of supplies, pulling out a few sets of rations, mostly made up of odd, compressed mush that the author was completely unfamiliar with. Though at this point, he knew he couldn’t really afford to be picky when it came to what he ate out here. “Take these, and also this.” The leader presented him with some sort of electronic, bracelet-like device, one that the author couldn’t help but look over curiously as soon as he received it.

“What is it?” he asked, fascinated.

“Dimensional translator,” Yottos said, poking at the fire a bit. “No offense, but ya seem a bit new to the whole ‘dimensional travel’ game, so that’ll give ya a bit of an easier time when it comes to folks out there that aren’t as ‘well-spoken’ as we are. Now, it’s a bit of an older model, but it should still work just fine.”

“Right,” Ford nodded with a grateful smile as he slipped the translator on his wrist and the rations into the empty supply bag Qharquains also gave him. “Thank you all for your help. I really do hope all of you find your way back to your own home someday.”

“Eh, at this point we’re honestly just satisfied with surviving from day to day,” George shrugged. “And not getting eaten by the occasional gloop monster or eyeball beast.”

“...Um… well then,” the author cleared his throat as he segwayed into a different topic instead. “You… wouldn’t happen to know what the odds are of a portal or a wormhole opening up that would lead back to Earth, would you?”

“What’s a ‘Earth’?” Hocoh asked, completely confused.

“I’ve never heard of that dimension before,” Qharquains said, shaking his head. “But if that is the place you call home, then I’m afraid to say that the possibility of you returning there from here, by all accounts, is quite slim.”

“That’s… exactly what I was afraid of…” Ford sighed, still just as aware as he was before of his fate. A fate that seemed quite uncertain, even now. And yet despite that uncertainty, he still clung onto a sliver of hope all the same. Not the hope that he’d ever return home; he knew that ship had sailed and sunk. But rather, the hope that he’d finally be able to stop Bill and save the world, even if it was a word he’d never be able to see again.

So a plan began to form in my mind. I would travel from dimension to dimension, learning what I could about Bill--his weaknesses, his secrets. I’d gain my strength, bide my time, and once I was ready, I would return to the Nightmare Realm and destroy him once and for all. I might never see home again, but at least I could save the multiverse from his wrath, and wreak vengeance for the life he stole from me.

And that was exactly what he was going to set out to do. He’d risk anything and everything just to see Bill Cipher finally meet his end. Even if his own end came right along with it.

The refugees excitedly hailed me as a hero as I prepared to leave, bidding me the best of luck in my quest as I waved them goodbye, setting off from their asteroid to swim toward the nearest wormhole. I was ready, ready to do whatever it took to not just survive, but thrive, as I cast my fate to the wind to discover what new worlds awaited me.

Yet as I left the Nightmare Realm and all its terrors behind, I still caught wind of one final cheer the refugees offered me. One that I still don’t know the meaning behind, even to this very day:

“Praise the Axolotl!”

#jen writes #universe falls #gravity falls #steven universe #crossover #au #fanfiction #ford #bill cipher #nightmare realm #adventures in the multiverse

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creative-poptart · 5 years

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Hey! Thanks for answering my ask! I love the take on the napping thing. Do you have any similar headcanons for the Papyruses across the universe? I know one cool headcanon I tend to see is that all Sanses like greasy/salty foods, while the Papyruses tend to like sweet stuff (though the healthy ones try to eat in moderation). I just love seeing the similarities between alternates, even if they’re “swapped”.

I see that you are also a fan of the headcanons that @popatochisssp has spread around!! I personally love the stories and headcanons she comes up with and I really like her personifications of the skelebois, even if I tend to have some differences!

That being said, I headcanon that all the Papyruses are crafters! They may not all be mechanically minded, as in building machinery or robotics, but each of them is very handy in their own way. UF Papyrus is the only one of them who can’t really explore this until he gets to the Surface, but each one has a knack for making something with their hands.

Individually speaking:

UT Papyrus/Creampuff: What else could he possibly build except for obstacle courses? When it comes to puzzles, he may be a bit challenged, but since he’s very physically active and knows how to challenge both himself and others, there is a lot of work he can do to make something that is akin to army boot camp levels of obstacle courses. Of course, some stuff is magical, enchanted by him, and there’s tons that can be changed at a moment’s notice.

UF Papyrus/Fell: Has a knack for making origami, actually. The first few tries were utter messes, punctured with holes and tears, but the more he practiced, the better he got. Of course, there’s traditional shapes of the origami and whatnot, but he’s actually really creative and has made some things that were really cool and original, like a paper soldier with full armor from one paper piece. It’s actually kind of soothing for him to go through the practiced motions, and he has a bunch of paper cranes in a box in his room.

US Papyrus/Stretch: As odd as it may sound, he’s very good at weaving on a loom. There was one point when he got a little too drunk and asked for lessons from a certain spider, and found a real talent. He’s made a bunch of rugs and stuff, selling them online for a small profit when he reaches the Surface, and constantly is trying new designs and patterns. He can even look at a pattern once and recreate it on his loom in two days time, if you want to test him.

SF Papyrus/Rus: This is actually a little homage to @cocofinny‘s version of SF Papyrus, but he’s good with electronics! Wires and such are child’s play to him, and he works very hard to make sure that he knows the ins and outs of each little thing he makes. Nothing ever really stays in one piece though, because he’s constantly fiddling with the coding and recycling the pieces into the next project when it starts to fall apart.

Thanks for the ask @missingidentity-artist!

#undertale #undertale imagines #undertale headcanons #undertale papyrus #underfell #underfell papyrus #underswap #underswap papyrus #swapfell #swapfell papyrus #poptartasks #tarts answers

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thelibrarbian · 5 years

Text

Spicy Pasta - Chapter 2

“NOT TO WORRY, DEAR FRIEND! I HAVE NOT SET FIRE TO A KITCHEN EVER SINCE WE REACHED THE SURFACE!”

“... you have been cooking since then, right?”

For the third day of @sfw12-days-of-papcest.

Rating: G

Pairing: platonic Edgepuff (UT!Papyrus & UF!Papyrus)

Tags: Fluff, Humor, Questionable Cooking Practices

Word count: 1118

Prompts this chapter is (very loosely) based on: Trust / Passion

Read on Ao3 or below the cut.

Fell shut the door behind him and let the warmth of the house seep into his bones. Normally, skeletons were barely affected by the low temperatures in Snowdin, but after a long day of clearing the streets and surveying the damage caused by the snowstorm last night, even he was cold. Luckily, it was only the power supply that the storm had cut off; water and heat were still running, as was the gas stove in the kitchen.

Speaking of the kitchen – he could hear Rus rummage around in the cupboards. “WELCOME BACK, FELL!” he called through the doorway.

Fell only gave a grunt in response as he struggled to tug off his boots. His fingered leather gloves had not done much to keep out the cold, and his phalanges were feeling stiff and numb.

Rus came over to pick up the successfully shed boots and set them by the door. “LONG DAY?” he asked.

“Yes.” Fell flopped down on the couch without bothering to take off his armor. “But we made good progress. Most of the main street is cleared, and we can work on getting the power restored soon enough. I had to break up a few fights, but nobody's been dusted so far.” All things considered, the town had been surprisingly peaceful.

“THAT IS WONDERFUL! BY THE WAY,” Rus held up a box of noodles, “I HAVE FOUND SOME SPAGHETTI IN YOUR CUPBOARD! THEY WOULD MAKE A GREAT DINNER TODAY, DON'T YOU THINK?”

Fell nodded. “Sure.”

Grinning, Rus tossed the pasta box up in the air and caught it again with a flourish. “WILL RED BE JOINING US?”

“He went to Grillby’s, so probably not.” Fell should be getting up to help his guest with the meal. But to his tired bones, the couch felt so much more comfortable than he ever remembered it to be. Suddenly, he could relate to his brother's attachment to this specific piece of furniture on a whole new level.

Rus sighed and pointed the noodles at him. “I WOULD NOT NORMALLY CONDONE SUCH LAZINESS, BUT I CAN TELL YOU HAVE HAD A HARD DAY ALREADY! SO JUST STAY THERE AND RELAX. I WILL TAKE CARE OF OUR DINNER!”

For a second, Fell consider arguing, but his exhaustion won out. As Rus disappeared into the kitchen again, he leaned back into the cushions. He closed his eyes, listening to the clatter of pots and the water rushing from the faucet. Little by little, he felt the tension drain from his limbs and a smile spread across his face.

A slightly worrying thought kept him from relaxing fully. “Hey, Creampuff?” he called without opening his eyes.

The faucet was turned off, and the pot landed noisily on the stovetop. “YES?”

“Who, did you say, taught you how to cook?”

“UNDYNE! WHY?”

Fell jumped up from the couch, dashed across the room and came to a skidding halt in the doorway. “Get out of my kitchen this instant!” he snarled.

Rus only blinked at him in confusion, then turned up the heat on the stove, entirely unperturbed. “WHY?”

“Because I know what that fish calls ‘cooking’, and I would rather not have my house burned down!” He eyed the pot warily. Could it catch on fire if it was only filled with water? He wasn't going to rule it out.

“OH!” Rus brightened. “NOT TO WORRY, DEAR FRIEND! I HAVE NOT SET FIRE TO A KITCHEN EVER SINCE WE REACHED THE SURFACE!”

“… you have been cooking since then, right?”

He scoffed. “OF COURSE I HAVE! I DARE SAY THAT I HAVE IMPROVED, TOO! NOW, WILL YOU HELP ME POUND THE VEGETABLES?”

There was a small pile of tomatoes sitting on the counter. “Fine”, Fell grumbled. If he was going to trust Rus enough to let him cook, he should at least stay in the kitchen to keep any potential destruction in check. Carefully, he picked up one of the tomatoes, set it before himself and lifted his fist above it.

Rus was watching him expectantly.

Fell brought down his fist. With a squelch and a spray of juice, the vegetable succumbed to his punch. He prodded the flattened, mushy red lump and couldn’t help but feel a spark of victory.

However, Rus seemed unimpressed. “IS THAT ALL YOU CAN DO?” He, too, grabbed a tomato. “I WOULD HAVE EXPECTED MORE FROM SUCH A ‘GREAT AND TERRIBLE’ MONSTER – BUT IT SEEMS I HAVE MISJUDGED YOU.” Shaking his head in disappointment, he threw the tomato down on the counter and smashed it with both fists. Juice and tomato innards splattered across the kitchen, against the wall, and on both their faces. He wiped what already looked like spaghetti sauce from his hands and threw Fell a challenging look.

A grin spread across Fell’s face. “Oh, it’s on.”

The kitchen was a mess. Tomato remains were clinging to every exposed surface, an assortment of spices that had narrowly missed the sauce bowl was sprinkled over the counter, and the noodle water was boiling fiercely enough to fling bits of pasta out of the pot.

With a battle cry, Fell brought a bone dagger down on the last surviving tomato. It had rolled behind the empty pasta container – a futile attempt to escape the carnage. It turned out that slashing the vegetables with magic attacks was even more effective than pounding them! The force of his strike sent bits of tomato up into the air. Rus reached forward and expertly caught them in the bowl.

At some point during their cooking, he had heard Red appear through a shortcut in the living room. The shorter skeleton only took one glance into the battlefield that was the kitchen before retreating to the couch.

“Are the noodles done yet?” Fell shouted over the bubbling water.

Rus gave the spaghetti a quick stir. “ALMOST!”

Not good enough, then! Fell reached over to adjust the temperature, but Rus caught his hand before he could turn up the heat.

“I THINK THAT IS HOT ENOUGH NOW,” he said with the wisdom of one who had seen more kitchen fires than Fell dared to imagine. “LET’S JUST LET THEM COOK FOR ANOTHER MINUTE.”

Reluctantly, Fell pulled back and instead reached for the sauce. There were still a few chunks that needed squashing.

Finally, the heat was turned down, the water drained off, and the spaghetti evenly distributed over three plates. As they carried the food into the living room, Fell’s soul felt lighter than it had in months. So what if the noodles were slightly burnt, and what if the sauce was a little too spicy from when Fell had gotten overenthusiastic with the pepper?

The pasta was just perfect.

#12 days of papcest #papcestmas #undertale #underfell #papyrus #undertale papyrus #underfell papyrus #platonic edgepuff #spicypasta #my writing

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canadian-buckbeaver · 6 years

Text

First Date Disaster - UF!Sans x Reader

MTT’s book in the trash where it belongs, you and Sans are about to head out on your first date. However, even before it begins, it seems like the universe is very much against you and him dating. Nothing goes right....

But sometimes, that is where the most fun can be found.

A commission for @mavi-mav who asked for a continuation of Sans unlucky wooing! Hopefully you all enjoy!

Sans hummed excitedly as he threw in the laundry into the machine. No, he wasn’t excited about doing laundry in the campus’ community laundry bay, that would be weird and something that his brother would be excited about. Something about “FINALLY TAKING CARE OF THE FUCKING, NASTY, SOCK.”

There were a few things wrong with that following statement.

One – the sock was in its rightful place. The floor of the living room. Right where everyone could see it and marvel at the artistic curves of the fabric.

Two – the sock was clean, not gross or nasty. Well, as clean as clean could be for sitting on the floor for a few months.

Three – well, three was the reason why he was excited. Again, not for laundry day.

No, today was the day. Today was The Day.

Starting the machine, Sans looked around the small, empty room. For once there were no other students in the area. The possibilities. He could possibly go upstairs and have a quick nap, leaving his clothes where they are to finish washing, but Papyrus would just bitch about leaving the laundry unattended. Like someone would steal a load of once white t-shirts. There were free chairs by the lost laundry notices that looked comfortable. So instead of his preferred nap, he settled himself on one of the nearby chairs next to a newer looking sign advertising a lost red hiking sock. As broke-ass college students, everything was preciously expensive, especially wool socks. Oh well, he decided, sucks to be that person and others who had lost things.

Pulling his phone out of his pocket, grinning as he realized he had a message from you. He eyed your snapchat as it came through, eye lights sparkling with mischief. You were just about to finish a shift at the restaurant you were working at and you had snapped a picture of some sort of dessert that you had decorated yourself with what to be his face on it. You had even used a small chunk of pineapple to resemble his golden fang. The overall look was rather sweet and charming he had to admit. Chuckling, he snapped a quick photo of himself and captioned it, “Which looks better to eat though, Doll?” he could already imagine your face blushing as you read the message. Putting the phone away, he leaned back in the chair, pulling his dark jacket into a more comfortable position, sighing softly.

He was excited but surprisingly relaxed today. None of the anxiety that he had been battling the days prior had made an appearance – not that he was complaining. Perhaps it was because he had already taken care of almost everything? He had already secured reservations for tonight at the new restaurant in town that you had mentioned that you might want to try (after making sure that they were monster friendly). The table wouldn’t be ready for you guys until about an hour after the movie, giving you plenty of time to take a romantic stroll through town or grab a coffee from your favourite coffee shop, whichever you preferred. He hadn’t been able to purchase the tickets ahead of time, but it would be more fun to secure the seats there at the theatre together he supposed. For now, all he had to do is wait for the laundry to be finished, and then move it into the dryer.

The small ping of the washing machine woke him up. Yawning and stretching, Sans felt all the bones in his body pop. Ok, those chairs were not meant for napping. They weren’t that comfortable. Shuffling over to the machines, he reached into the washer and pulled out his t-shirts.

Only to find that his t-shirts had changed colours during the load.

Gone were the white t-shirts, gone were the grease marks and mustard stains. Instead, they were replaced with clean, fresh smelling pink t-shirts. Blinking rapidly, Sans looked through each piece of clothing. Yes, this was his load. These were his t-shirts…. But why were they…

He pulled a red sock out of one of the arms of the t-shirts.

Cursing, he placed the offending sock in the middle of the folding table and threw the rest of his wash into the drying machine. His jacket would cover most of the pink, he would just need to keep it closed. And it looks like that he was going shopping afterwards.

* * * * *

Sans teleported just outside the restaurant that you worked at, pulling the fur of his jacket up to hide the smallest hint of pink. Papyrus was working on the rest of the shirts now, putting them through another wash cycle with a small dash of baking soda. He made a new rule of checking all machines for lost and found items before using.

Still, Sans sighed softly, leaning against the building. Soon he would see you and all would be well. You and him had been planning this date for weeks now, there was always something that seemed to get in the way. Between school and the work schedules for the both of you, it was hard enough to sneak in a study session in the library. And now, there was nothing in your way.

“Hey,” your voice startled Sans, causing him to jump away from the wall. He couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face when he saw you.

“Hey sweetheart,” he said, taking your change of clothes from you, “did you have a good shift?”

You sighed and rolled your eyes. “Give me a moment to answer,” you told him before you walked over to the nearby recycling bin. Digging deep into your pockets you tossed more than a couple shiny pamphlets, and what looked to be a couple of business cards into the bin. “Ok. Now I’m ready to go. Does this theatre serve alcohol?” You sounded irritated.

Sans offered you his arm, still looking at the bin in confusion. “I mean, there is an option for that…” he said. “Or do you want to skip the movie and just go to the bar instead?”

Slinging your arm through his, you sighed but shook your head. “No, no… theatre first. Just… just a rough day.”

“Tell me about it,” Sans said, drawing you closer to him as he walked you down the sidewalk. Pink shirts could be ignored for now. Your day was more important than his.

Shaking your head, you smiled at him, resting your head against his shoulder as the two of you walked together. “Just same shit, different day,” you told him. “First, a couple businessmen came through and think that leaving me their business card with their phone number is a good replacement for a tip.”

Sans snorted at that, easily pushing the small tinge of jealousy that he felt. It was rather obvious that you weren’t interested in them. “Of course… Those who can afford to buy an expensive meal for themselves or for their friends or clients and do not have enough to tip you can clearly spoil you rotten should you guys date.”

Success. You giggled, gazing up at him with those wonderful green eyes of yours. “Oh yes. Clearly he has all the money in the world to show me all that fifty dollars and twenty-five cents can get me.”

Wrapping his arm around you tighter, Sans gave you a tight side hug. “I hear that is a fantastic view of his driveway.” He smiled as you laughed at it. Good. There was the you that he knew and…

Well. Fill in the blank later.

“But you said that those guys were first. What else happened?” Sans asked you.

You rolled your eyes. “Father Simon was in today. The shimmering grey BMW? Crisp, name-brand clothing on himself, wife and three kids? Heck, he even has a Rolex that he hides under his suit. Anyways, he and some of his followers came in today after the sermon. Between the twelve of them, they easily ordered a couple hundred dollars worth of food and drink. Came in preaching the good word, God and His Son shall save us and that we are loved. I enjoyed that part,” you said, looking at Sans. “It’s just when every single one of them refuses to leave a tip and instead only leaves a stupid pamphlet on how both my coworkers and I could be saved… well. You see where I am coming from.” Sighing, you scratched under your eye. “Because obviously I don’t need money for food or rent. Apparently, long-term salvation can take care of all my needs immediately.”

Sans opened the theatre’s door, letting you slide in first. “I’m sorry you had a rough day, babes. Hopefully, I can help make it better.”

Looking back at him, you shot him one of the most beautiful smiles he had ever seen. “Believe me when I say that it is already better.”

Oh, you knew just how to make his soul flutter. Pink shirts were forgotten now. You were all that mattered in his eyes. Gently squeezing your hand, he led you to the ticket counter. “Remember, it is my treat.” He said.

“You really don’t have to Sans. I don’t mind splitting the costs.” You smiled at him. He loved that, loved when your eyes met his… sent a tingle down his spine.

The acne-ridden, greasy haired teenager looked positively terrified of them. His eyes flickered between Sans and you, and then to the door, like he wanted to escape. “Am I that terrifying tonight?” Sans asked, turning towards him.

“Oh you always look intimidating,” you teased him, squeezing his hand, “but I’m more worried that he is one of those who distrusts monsters…”

The teenager gulped slightly as you guys came up to the counter. He looked pale, like he was about to pass out. “I… I… I should warn you…. that… that today’s paper was wrong…. The show times were for yesterday…. And weren’t updated… the… the current times are on the board now….” he shakily pointed to the board behind him, showing the times of the movies.

Sans looked up at the board and groaned. The times and movies had been changed in a very noticeable way. “Looks like we missed the last showing of the movie, sweetheart.”

Your face crumpled in disappointment. “Really? God damn it….” Sans hated that look on your face. He wanted to help but was unsure how. You guys could always try and come back another night for the movie, but who knew how long that would be. The teenager was still watching them, grease shining in the low light. The poor guy had probably already been screamed at more than a few times tonight for something that wasn’t his fault. “Well how about we see the other one we were thinking about? It starts in ten minutes.”

With a nod, Sans agreed. “We could always see it when it comes out on Netflix or whenever one of our neighbours buys it.” There, problem solved. Quick and painless.

The ticket master relaxed notably as he punched in your new order. “That would be ten dollars, please.” he squeaked.

Nodding, Sans dug his hand into his pocket before freezing. He could positively feel his bones freezing in horror. Really? After everything that had already happened to the both of you, this had to happen? You looked at him, confused for a moment before his horrified face started to make sense. You giggled softly, pulling out your own wallet. “Dutch it is.” You said, pulling out a bill and handing it to the worker.

Sans felt so ashamed at that moment. He knew exactly what had happened. By the door, right beside the key bowl, his wallet sat. Just so he wouldn’t forget to grab it when he grabbed his keys.

Looks like he would need to teleport home and grab that after the movie. After all, you couldn’t do Dutch on your first date! That just wasn’t right!

* * * * *

You and Red left the movie quietly, following the other patrons out. You guys were quiet, lost in your own little world, thinking about the movie. Red was slowly moving his head, trying to crack the vertebrae without scaring you. His previous nap in the laundry room was beginning to come back to haunt him as the movie seats had been less than overly comfortable.

“Well,” Red finally offered, feeling his neck give slightly, “that was… interesting? They had an… unusual plot to it. Really kept you guessing throughout the entire film.”

Bursting out into laughter, you gently whacked his arm. “Oh, come on. You can be honest with me. That movie was terrible! The trailers totally showed it to be some next generation science-fiction, the new era of the combining power of the human and technology. Not some desperate cash grab with a few A grade actors!”

Sans chuckled, relieved that you were of the same opinion as him. He wasn’t the best or most confident liar around. “Well now that you mention it, they had more green screens than a weather station.”

Laughing, you smiled up at him. “I’m glad to be here,” you said simply.

Sans couldn’t help the wince that came to his skull at your words. So far nothing was going right for the both of you. It was the wrong movie and it had been awful, and you had ended up paying thanks to him. “Hey now. Save those words until I take you out to eat,” he said, smiling quickly at you. You were going to say something else, perhaps argue with him, when he nodded towards the poor admissions worker. He was surrounded by a horde of angry patrons, probably looking for their money back. “Want to try and get your money back on a refund?” he asked.

You shook your head. “Poor guy is busy enough. Besides, his manager would probably give us free tickets at best, or at worst tell us that we sat through the entire movie. Already past some ‘money-back guarantee’ period.” As much as he wanted to disagree and try to get your money back, the skeleton had to admit that you had a point. The two of you would spend ages in line for next nothing. Sans watched as an older, bored looking gentleman finally came down to the area. Presumably the manager at last. “Ready to grab something to eat? I’m hungry. Popcorn didn’t fill me up.” On cue your stomach growled.

Smiling at you, Sans drew you close to him, preparing to teleport the two of you. “Ready when you are, sweetheart. Just let me grab my wallet first.”

* * * * *

The little side-trip took almost an hour to complete. Of course something as simple as ‘grab the wallet and go’ couldn’t be that easy. Not today of all days. Papyrus had decided to take advantage of Sans’ absence and do some needed cleaning around the little apartment and had moved his wallet, and then had left to study in the library. You and Sans had almost torn the apartment into its previous state of disarray until you had found his wallet… in the key bowl.

Sans grit his teeth, angry that it had taken so long and that he hadn’t noticed the wallet before. Nothing was going his way tonight. And stars, you were along for a ride now. If it had just been him, Sans might have just given up and gone home, napped for a week and then tried again. But no. Here he was, pulling you out to a shitty movie after your crappy day at work, and now you had to try and help him find his stupid wallet because he decided to leave that at home.

Your stomach growled, reminding Sans that the popcorn that the two of you had had wasn’t exactly the most filling of dinners. Pulling you close to him, wallet safe in his jacket pocket, he teleported directly to the restaurant. No time for anything else.

The restaurant was just about to give your table when the two of you guys appeared. The hostess rolled her eyes and sighed loudly when Sans had approached the stand. She had begrudgingly looked through her computer for Sans’ reservation (at least that had been done correctly). When his name appeared on the computer, she had reluctantly led the two of you to an open table. As she showed them around, Sans took in the restaurant The restaurant seemed to be decorated in an odd mixture of disco and Hawaiian. Frankly Sans didn’t know what they were going for, nor was he sure if this is how they advertised themselves. Perhaps it was the remains of his Fell nature, but Sans couldn’t help himself from looking wildly around, staring at everything. The waitress noticed his observations and rolled her eyes again. She placed the two of you in a small corner table, right next to the kitchen.

Great… this was not what he meant by secluded… Sans sighed back at the hostess, biting back his comments about her attitude. He opened his menu, peeking at you. Already you were pouring over the menu, reading carefully, your lips pressed into a thin line. Seems like you weren’t having the best time… wincing, Sans peered at his menu.

Only to be met with the smallest, most descriptive text that he could imagine. “Bloody hell,” he said, “I wonder if they wrote our textbooks.”

You let out a tiny giggle. “Would explain how our textbooks always seemed to give vivid food descriptions. Juicy hearts. Tasty love…” you snorted, smiling at Sans before returning your attention back to the menu.

Sans let out a relieved sigh. Well, you were still talking to him and cracking jokes. That was a good sign.

A waiter, dressed in the odd combination of a Hawaiian shirt and dress pants, approached the table. “My name is Jolly John but you can call me HOOOSIAH,” he yelled out, making the both of you jump, “and I will be your waiter today. Can I start you off with any drinks?”

The skeleton was tempted to order a bottle of mustard to drink, but, as the rest of the date was going ‘swimmingly’, he decided not to add his drunken ass to the mix. “Water,” he croaked out.

“Make it two, please. Also, what sort of oils do you use in your cooking?”

John made a note of your drinks on his little notepad. “I believe we use sunflower oil. The boss likes how it gives a different taste to the food. Makes it light, fresher… fills your soul with…”

“Perfect. Thank you.” you smiled at him causing John to hurry away. Right, you had that slight sensitivity to soybeans… Sans had almost forgotten about that. Luckily you knew the right questions to ask.

“Perhaps we should avoid drinking the water at all…” Sans muttered, looking back at the menu. Geeze, what would it take to order a simple hot dog or hamburger around this joint?

Your laughter reached him again, causing the sharp-toothed monster to smile. “Aw, be gentle Sans. He just enjoys his job. Hasn’t had the soul sucked out of him by the general public just yet.”

He couldn’t help the dopy look that crossed his skull. You really were perfect.

Jolly John returned with your water. It seems like he had decorated the rims of your glasses with a variety of tropical fruits. It looked like a Hawaiian goddess threw up. Sans stared at it, wondering how he was supposed to take a drink without disrupting the rest of the glass. It reminded him of Papyrus’ overzealous attempts at platting food. You had pushed the food to one side of the rim, allowing you to take a sip of it. “Are you two ready to order?”

“A couple more minutes,” the two of you said in sync, causing John to scurry away again. As the two of you poured over your menus, Sans’ decided to make his move. Slowly, Sans reached across the table to take your hand, gently squeezing it.

It took a breathless moment, but you squeezed back too. He couldn’t help the little stutter in his soul as you returned to soft pressure. Perhaps everything was going to be ok after all.

A few minutes later, Sans was looking for John again when he noticed that you seemed to be in some distress. You cleared your throat once, twice and then three times, growing more confused as you couldn’t remove the tickle from within your throat. Rubbing at your throat, you slowly began to look around. “Is it hot in here, or is it just me?”

Avoiding the obvious pickup line, Sans chose to answer honestly. “It is a little warm in here, but I think you’re the only flushed one,” he said, growing worried over your heating flesh.

John had come up to the table again. “Is everything ok here?” he had asked, looking between you and Sans.

“Have these fruits come into contact with soybeans or any by-product?”

John nodded. “My boss soaks the fruits in their water and…”

Shit… you were having an allergic reaction.

Sans reacted immediately. Getting up, he propelled himself around the table, grabbing hold of your hips and legs, somehow tossing your purse onto your lap, and teleporting into the hospital that was nearest to the campus.

* * * * *

The two of you were sitting on hard, pink chairs, Sans’ arm wrapped around you as you shivered. Upon teleporting the two of you directly into the hospital, your throat had closed up further, making it borderline impossible for you to talk. You had gasped and wheezed for breath, terrifying the nurses and the doctors that saw you appear. Luckily, Sans was there to answer their questions, explaining all that he possibly could to them as they wheeled you into a nearby room. Telling them about your sensitivity to soybeans and what you had come into contact with, and warning them that Advil tended to give you stomach ulcers.

You had made it just in time to the hospital as to not require an oxygen mask. Instead, they had shot you with an Epi-Pen, given you normal water to drink, and now had you under mandatory health watch. If you went into another allergic attack you would be hooked up to oxygen in a heartbeat and be given more allergy medicine.

But for now, it seems like the worst had passed.

“So…” Sans said, breaking the slightly awkward silence, “worst date, ever?” he asked slightly nervously. There was pale red sweat dripping down his skull and even the crack in his skull seemed to droop slightly.

Turning your head, you looked at him. “What do you mean?” You were still slightly pale, your voice weak, but overall, in good health.

Leaning back against the chair, Sans sighed. “Well, I forget my wallet, we see a terrible movie, almost miss our table and end up in the hospital at the end of it. Doesn’t seem exactly what you had in mind for our date.” He rubbed the side of his face, his eye lights down. “I seem to have bad luck with anything I touch. I would totally understand if you never want to see me again…”

You couldn’t help yourself. Laughter peeled from your mouth, causing him to jump and look over at you with a shocked expression. Your laughter sounded beautiful as always, like music to his ears. “Oh, Sans,” you giggled, wiping your tears from your eyes, “thank you. I needed the laugh.” He couldn’t respond. He stared at you, mouth agape. Smiling, you explained yourself. “All I wanted to do was spend time with you. Forget the shitty day at work, forget about school for a bit…” you flushed slightly. “Honestly, I haven’t seen any negatives with the day. All it has is made it more memorable for me…

“And I’m sure that you are never going to forget our first date either.” You smiled at him, watching the relief cross over his face.

Sans couldn’t help himself. Chuckling, he pulled you closer. “How about we call this the practice date, and, once I get my shit together, I’ll take you out on a real date. One without the restaurant that chooses to use fruit soaked in soybean water, a movie with real plot, and a wallet with real money in it?”

Giggling, you nodded. “I can agree to that.” Looking at his sharpened teeth quickly, you seized the front of his jacket, pulling him towards you. Giving him a short, very sweet kiss. “Just as long as you agree that that was our first kiss.”

Eye lights hazy and faintly resembling hearts, his cheekbones slightly pink, Sans stared dumbly at you. “Gosh damnit, here you are in a hospital, and it is my breath being stolen away…”

How he could spin such jokes in a heartbeat, you would never know. Resting your head on his jacket, you smiled. “It is a gift….” You explained to him. Grinning, he wrapped his arm tightly around you again, pulling you against him.

For a few minutes you sat in comfortable silence, listening to the sounds of the emergency department. Nurses and doctors ran, papers rustling and machines were beeping. This was far better than any movie. “Sans? Do you mind if I ask you a quick question?”

“Go for it, sweetheart.”

“Why are you wearing a pink shirt?”

#uf!sans #uf!sans x reader #female reader #underfell sans #surface life #university au #first date #romance #sfw #disaster #first date disasters #underfell #undertail #reader x sans #female reader insert #reader insert #uf!papyrus

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sansy-fresh · 6 years

Text

Hiccups

So this is for the @cooterblaster preg contest, under the categories First Touch and Another Sleepless Night (I thought of a way to combine them lol so I’m putting this under both)

Tags: Skelepreg, SpicyMaple (UF Pap/SF Pap), Fluff

Slipping a worn, thick sweater over his skull, Edge sighed as the fabric settled over his protruding stomach, the old thing nearly ancient but large enough to account for his growing stomach. Slim smiled to him through the mirror he stood in front of, laying back on the bed with an arm behind his head. Turning to the side, Edge rested his hands on the swell of his stomach, letting out a breath. Some days it still didn’t feel real.

Though some days he still couldn’t believe he was living on the surface, living with the monster he loved with all his soul, and pregnant with their child. In a few months they’d have a tiny babybones in their arms, and soon enough they would be running around, wreaking havoc and causing mayhem.

He found himself swaying a little on his feet, sockets blinking as they began to feel heavier than he was accustomed to. Slim shifted on the bed, sitting up a little.

“Come to bed, babe.”

Edge looked back at him, gazed at himself in the mirror once more, then shuffled back to the bed, crawling carefully in and laying on his side. Slim was quick to pull him close, arm wrapping around his shoulder as he tucked Edge’s skull beneath his chin. Edge breathed deep, the familiar warmth and scent of his lover easing him into sleep, the drowsiness increasing until his sockets closed of their own accord.

“love you…” he murmured, a low agreement reaching him just as he fell asleep.

~.~

Sockets blinking open, Edge shifted, uncomfortable and still half asleep as he tried to parce what had woken him up. Slim was still in bed, breathing evenly beside him, even if they weren’t tangled in each other as they’d been before he fell asleep. Turning to his other side, he blinked, staring at the light blue wall as he tried to wake up a little. Slim’s gentle breathing behind him was nearly enough to lull him back to sleep, but just as his sockets had started to close once more a small twinge in his stomach jarred him awake.

It was familiar and annoying, but, with a resigned sight, he sat up, hand supporting his stomach as he pushed himself to the very edge of the bed and stood. He wasn’t quite large enough for his walk to be a waddle, but it was a near thing. Shuffling to the door, he eased it open, glancing back to make certain Slim hadn’t woken up before moving into the hall and easing it back. Moving down the hall, he thought about what all they had that would be easy and quick to make.

Oatmeal would be fairly easy, if he used the premade packets in the closet, but he’d already eaten two bowls that day. There was some ramen in the pantry if he remembered right, but the only flavor they had was pork and just the thought of the smell made him nauseas. Deciding to see if they had any leftovers in the fridge, he pattered past the living room and into the kitchen.

The fridge light spilled out across the floor as he opened the door, the brightness of it blinding him for a second, Edge blinking as it passed. Crimson eyelights perused the shelves, sockets squinting in disdain at a box of week old ravioli, though they widened as he found a seran wrap covered plate of pizza from the night before. One of the few things he could stomach that his cravings screamed at him to consume was cold pizza.

Taking the plate, he carefully pulled off the wrapping, laying it on the counter for later before moving to the table. Hand against his stomach, he sat carefully, wincing a little as the chair under him creaked loudly. Setting the plate of pizza on the table, he took a moment to lay a napkin out on his lap before taking a slice and biting down.

The first few pieces were polished off with little fanfare, the spice of the pepperoni and the soft cheese perfect or his late night hunger. Once he’d finished his third piece he paused, letting the magic settle in his stomach before he’d see if that was enough or if he needed more. Settling back into the modified chair (Slim had set them all up with extra cushions once Edge had nearly broken one in a fit of emotion), he closed his eyes, really only wishing that he was back in bed with Slim’s arms around him.

In the nearly asleep state, he missed the first jostle. The second, however, caught him off guard, the movement inside his belly completely foreign and strange. He sat forward, hands on his stomach as he waited for it to repeat, and wasn’t disappointed as there was another tiny jostle and then what felt like a poke to the inside of his stomach. The jostles continued, more often than not followed by what he was sure was a tiny kick. It took him a moment to realize what was happening, but when he did, the smile that lit up his face would have blinded himself in the dark kitchen.

Hands spread over his ecto-flesh, he felt his child as they hiccuped and kicked, squirming around in minor discomfort. Soon the motions finally ended and his baby was still once more, their soul still shining faintly through his shirt. Blinking away the tears that had pooled in his sockets, Edge rubbed his stomach fondly. He really couldn’t wait to meet them.

He’d have to tell Slim about this in the morning.

#fresh writes #contest entry #skelepreg #spicymaple #first touch #sleepless night #underfell papyrus #swapfell papyrus #fluff

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valkyrieofsmut · 4 years

Text

Captive Love 5

UF!Sans x Reader (or Frisk if you wanna)

Summary: (Y/n)'s day at the skelebro's house, Sans' day out.

A/N: So, in this chapter, we find out that (Y/n)'s soul trait is integrity; honesty and strong morals. The only problem with having integrity as a main soul trate is that, because you're so honest, even if you don't want to trust people, you can have the tendency to believe people easier, because you expect others to mean what they say as much as you do. Even extremely smart beings with the trait can second guess their instincts or have them overwritten because the person lying is someone they (want to) trust or have positive feelings about/ for. Based on the note... can you guess what's going to happen in this chapter... lol Also, sorry, guys! I kept trying to get this to post all day, but I guess that tumblr hates long posts...? Or me... Might just be me... lol.

Masterlist Series Masterlist

Story

Little lies never hurt anyone.

Sans leaned on the counter of the odd and ends shop, though it should rightfully be called a thrift shop, since most of its contents had come from other people and not “sources” like a normal store.

“You got a friend you’re buyin’ all this stuff for?” The bunny on the other side asked suggestively.

Sans gave her a smirk. “what’d make ya think that?”

“Well, you haven’t flirted with me once since you walked in the door,” she hinted.

“ah, sorry, doll. jus’ a lil distracted fer a sec, thinkin’ a comin’ in... did ya want ta hop on th’ sans express an’ ride it ta th’ bone zone?” He asked with a heavy handed lewdness.

Honestly, he’d rather spend the time with his sweetheart, but he had to keep up appearances so that no one got suspicious.

Plus, awkward sexual tension filled innuendos were easier to deal in than talking about feelings and shit.

The bunny gave a giggle and continued to lean over the counter toward him instead of going to get his requested items. “Still as charming as ever, I see.”

Sans flashed his smirk again. “so, can i get my stuff?”

The bunny giggled again and with a wiggle of tail asked, “so, does that mean that you’re thinking of getting a pet? Going to go out and take one?”

He let out an annoyed sound. “can i jus’ get my fuckin' stuff?”

She looked a little startled by the suddenness of the change, but took it in stride as it wasn’t really so strange for the former Underground citizens to be testy, and turned to go to the back.

"So," the bunny’s brother asked as he brought the requested items out a moment later, "you gonna wear these, then?"

Sans sneered at him. "you wish ya freak."

"A little too much denial…?" The bunny suggested with a smirk.

Sans gave a disgusted face. "go fuck yerself." He turned, flicking his fingers and letting his magic tug on the piles of stuff on the shelves above the bunny's head. "get dunked on, ya ass hat," he called back over his shoulder.

“aww, ya ain’t seen nothin’ at all?” Sans asked with a suggestive grin to the small cluster of spider ladies selling their baked goods in the corner of the bar. "'s a human, hard ta miss..."

“Ooooh, no,” one hummed.

“No, not anything… Do you wanna buy a croissant, Sans? It tastes soooo good with mustard…” another tempted.

“heh. ‘d rather have somethin' a lil sweeter on my tongue,” he insinuated, thinking of (Y/n) at home, spread across his bed, his tongue tasting all sorts of things…

Drool was slowly pooling between his sharp teeth, and he quickly wiped it, giving an internal groan at how fast his cock had risen to attention at the thought.

He needed to get with his sweetheart quick, even just enough to curb the appetite growing inside of him.

The spider girls giggling brought him back to the present. He flashed a grin and went to the bar, getting a mustard to drink as he continued around, checking everyone for info.

After the rest of his rounds, he headed to his last few information gathering contacts. The ones he knew couldn't keep their mouths shut.

(Y/n) didn’t know what to do. She was stuck in this house, not able to leave, not much to do, nowhere to go.

Sans’ room was messy, her clothes were dirty, it wasn’t even lunch time…

First, she went to the bathroom and washed her clothes in the tub the best she could, cleaning herself as much as possible in the process, hanging them to dry so she could have something clean to go home in.

Then, she went back to Sans’ room, looking around. She couldn’t read any of the books on the shelf, seeing that the words were all written in a strange sort of glyph, and remembered that Sans had told her he couldn't read human language, but as she put all the books on the shelves, she saw the covers had various strange pictures, outerspace, numbers, shapes, most of them looked like school books, but, like they’d be for some advanced courses. She flipped through the pages of a few of them and saw all sorts of charts and formulas that looked reminiscent of something she’d seen on a tv show with Neil deGrasse Tyson as the host. Very smart… and science-y…

(Y/n) put them on the shelves, trying to keep them together as best she could. Some of the books were obviously not… string theory… or whatever the hell the others were… but, novels or something, a few of them she had only a vague idea, having to make a guess that one with a simple cover of a monster laughing at a casket and a crowd laughing at the two was either a black comedy novel, or a book of dark jokes.

She leaned toward the dark jokes.

Under his desk, she found a folded up paper and opened it, trying to see if it was important, though she'd really have no idea, and saw that it looked like some sort of congratulatory certificate. High school diploma, maybe?

After she got everything sorted, she tried to put it with other things that looked the same.

She went out into the rest of the house and found a garbage can under the extra tall sink cabinet, and took it up Sans' room, only throwing away things that were obviously trash; food wrappers, crumpled up bits of paper, other strange little things that might have been dried lava, or eternally frozen snow… any way, they were things that looked like they had fallen from his shoes.

When she took the garbage can back down, she found something that looked like it might be a vacuum, and she looked at it, turning it around and pressing the buttons to see how they worked without any power, before sticking it back in the closet and pulling out the broom and dust pan.

Sweeping was better than nothing… and also better than blowing up the house.

The next task (Y/n) tackled was sorting out the laundry, though she couldn’t find any washer or dryer to clean them in. Maybe they made laundromat trips?

After that she figured it was about lunch time, so she dug through the fridge and ate a small portion of the lasagna from the night before. It wasn’t the worst she’d ever had, but it was far from the best. Maybe if she hid some of the spices he’d used that should have stayed out of the mix, like sage, paprika, cinnamon, nutmeg… really, she thought maybe he’d just put some of everything in the spice rack in there.

She tried turning on the tv and entertaining herself, but the only channels they seemed to get all had the same robotic actor on them, overdramatically giving monologues, "hosting" or cooking things- awful things… that’s probably where Sans’ brother had gotten the recipe for the lasagna…

She turned it back off, and decided to look through the windows to try to get an idea of the area she was in. Knowing that she was at least supposedly in danger, and most likely truly could be, she only peeped from the edges of the window for the first few minutes, but after noticing that there didn't seem to be anyone or anything outside but tall grass and flowers, she just looked through it normally.

I thought they said we were in monster territory…?

(Y/n) put a hand over her face. What if they were all the way on the other side of the monster territory? She certainly couldn't find any landmarks that looked familiar, and the tall buildings usually on the horizon seemed to be missing.

Only more support for her 'Sans is actually a nice, though perverted, guy' theory…

She sighed and decided to go look out the windows in Sans' room, thinking that maybe she'd see something familiar from higher up.

(Y/n) was standing at the window, wondering what kind of flowers were in the field, when the door opened. She, of course, expected it to be Sans, this being his room and all, but the blood drained from her face was she saw the tall skeleton in the doorway.

"HUMAN, I THOUGHT YOU WOULD PROBABLY GET HUNGRY, AND I DIDN'T THINK YOU'D BE ABLE TO FEND FOR YOURSELF," he shouted, sounding extremely put upon. "AND I KNEW SANS WOULD BE TOO LAZY TO REMEMBER TO FEED YOU, SO I- WHAT ARE YOU DOING OVER THERE?" He asked suspiciously, cutting himself off before getting to his point about how much of a hassle it would be if she died from starvation.

Her color had gotten paler when she'd seen him, and her eyes had started darting around the room, as though taking stock of what she could use as a weapon. Papyrus automatically did a check and found that not only did she have a blue soul, denoting her strong integrity, but it seemed to have a bit of a purple glow around the edges showing her perseverance, looking a bit like blue velvet; blue, but purple in the shadows caused by the texture, and she had an extremely low LOVE, around that of a child's, and was surprised that her desire to find a weapon went so against her stats.

It must be a survival tactic, then. Probably to defend against any oncoming attacks.

She posed no threat to him, but he applauded her instinct to be ready to fight if necessary.

She swallowed harshly and managed to rasp out a broken whisper. "Loo-n- ou-si-." She pointed out the window to try to help him understand what she was saying.

He seemed to have dismissed her, though, looking around the room. "OH MY GOD!!"

She jumped at his exclamation. Did she do something wrong by cleaning?

"THIS IS THE CLEANEST I'VE SEEN MY LAZY BROTHER'S ROOM SINCE WE MOVED IN!! BUT, WHY DIDN'T YOU DO THE LAUNDRY? IT'S JUST SITTING HERE IN PILES."

"C-ou-... cou-n't fi-d," she rasped, shaking her head nervously apologetic. Her hand went to her throat, and the way she winced showed how hard on her throat just getting that much out was.

Papyrus hummed, his fingers lifting to his chin. It would make sense that she wouldn't wash them if she couldn't find anything to do it with. "FEAR NOT, HUMAN! I, THE GREAT AND TERRIBLE PAPYRUS, WILL SHOW YOU WHERE THE WASHING MACHINE IS! AND HOW TO USE IT!!"

(Y/n) opened her mouth to object that she did know how a washer worked, but it didn't matter, because he had just turned and started out the door with, "COME, HUMAN, AND BRING A PILE OF LAUNDRY!!"

After having the instructions on how to use the machine yelled at her, for no particular reason, she was glad that it had been Sans that had found her, and that Papyrus had only come to check on her and would be leaving soon. She didn’t know how long she’d be able to stay in his presence without constantly being on the edge of a panic attack.

When she came back into the front room from where the laundry room was, behind a hidden door in the kitchen, Papyrus was standing a little awkwardly near the door.

"W-WELL… I CAN'T SPEND ALL DAY MAKING SURE THAT YOU DON'T DIE! I HAVE TO GO! …" He stood silently for another moment, then announced, "I'M GOING."

(Y/n) gave a smile and waved, the most she could do without hurting her throat further or risking offending him, and had to hold back a laugh as the start of a red glow touched his cheeks and he looked flustered for a millisecond before he gave a tug to straighten his outfit before he turned and walked out through the door.

After Papyrus left, (Y/n) mostly just hung around and did laundry, looking through things, but not finding much for her to do until she found a deck of cards, then she sat on the floor and played solitaire, pausing only when the laundry was done, to fold it and put it on the desk chair, not wanting to dig around in Sans’ drawers.

He was a guy… guys had… stuff … that she’d rather not stumble across… especially due to the strange things that had apparently turned him on before. Also, being a skeleton monster made him different from every other guy she'd known, and the thought of finding super weird fetish stuff that she'd inevitably be morbidly curious about gave her pause.

She wasn't a "freak" but… curiosity was something that had gotten the better of her before, and some things in life, you just didn't need to know.

(Y/n) had finished the few loads of laundry, folded them, and turned to just playing card games by herself on Sans’ bed by the time the door opened and Sans walked in, looking tired and sweating a weird sort of translucent, but red tinged, perspiration.

He stepped in and closed the door behind him before looking up, but then froze in place and swept his shocked and slightly horrified gaze around the room.

For the second time that day, she wondered if she'd done something wrong by cleaning Sans' room.

He stiffly walked to the chair and pushed the laundry off onto the floor.

(Y/n) made an indignant noise from the bed, but heard him mutter, "too clean…"

Ahh, so he's one of those people who need a little disorder to feel comfortable , she noted, feeling the anxiety leaving her as he tossed his coat on the chair and turned to her.

He smiled and lifted a bag onto the bed. "i, uh- i uh- gotcha some stuff…" His expression shifted to that angry sort of flustered look he'd had before, paying close attention to how his other hand was fiddling with the edge of his red sweater. "somethin' ta wear, s-so ya don't have ta keep wearin' dirty clothes…"

Sans glanced over at her and felt another pang in his chest at the beautiful smile she was giving him.

fuck-! so adorable! an'... why d'i feel disappointed that she's not wearing my clothes, now?

(Y/n) smiled at him, mouthing thank you . She hesitated before nervousness seemed to grow over her a little and her gaze focused on the bed.

“wassup, sweetheart?” He asks, feeling a bit nervous about what was on her mind.

She gestured, asking, can I go home? She immediately winced and glanced up at him then back to the bed, as though she were worried he was going to hit her.

Sans felt his soul throb painfully at the thought of her leaving, and his hand automatically went to it. He realized what he was doing, and changed the movement to scratching his sternum through his sweater. Luckily, he had a reason for her to stay. He move the bag onto the floor, then sat on the mattress and laid back with his shoulders about even with her, making himself comfortable as he told her, “i talked ta alla my contacts, an’ it sounds like no one knows ‘xactly where ya are, but they definitely know that there’s a human on monster turf.”

Her brow dipped in confusion and she asked, how?

Sans shrugged as he put his arms behind his head, his fingers running over a crack on the back of his skull. “dunno fer sure-” ok, it might have been from his asking so blatantly if anyone had seen a human around- “but i hadda getcha here somehow. coulda jus’ been spotted on th’ way. tough luck, but, should be good in two or three days. ‘f we wait fer three, they’ll most likely ferget ta be lookin’ fer ya.”

(Y/n) eyed him, and he was glad that he’d already been sweating so that she hopefully didn’t notice the fresh round of perspiration beading on his skull. Finally, she seemed to accept it, and he let out an internal sigh of relief.

“so, you, uh, ya have an ok day?” She gave a half nod half shrug. “noticed ya cleaned up ‘round here… an’ i appreciate th’ thought behind it, sweetheart, ‘s real sweet a ya, but, i gotta ask ya; please don’t. kinda wigs me out when ‘s too clean. like it’s a fake fuckin’ storybook,” he muttered.

She put a hand on his arm, and it felt like Sans’ soul tumbled around his rib cage. He looked up to see the apologetic look on her face. Sorry...

Apologies? Yeah… Those were something that never happened in the Underground.

In a kill or be killed world, any sign of niceness was seen as a form of weakness, so niceties had been dropped long ago.

The way his sweetheart was so nice, showing kindness and caring was definitely something he liked about her, but… it also made him uncomfortable.

Sans would never turn away from her for her weakness, he wanted to protect her, keep her with him and safe. But… he didn't know how to react to this kindness. So he again took it to a place he was more comfortable with.

“ah, dollface, don’t worry ‘bout it…” He turned and his thumb went out to run down her cheek, trying not to let the tiny flinch get to him. “if it’d make ya feel better, i know somthin’ ya could do ta make it up ta me…” He gave her a smirky grin and took his hand back, putting a fingertip on his cheek. “how ‘bouta kiss?” He watched her gaze turn wary, her body stiffening like she was getting ready to bolt.

False, flirty affection and innuendo was so much easier to handle than real affection, even if he wanted her affection like a starving man wanted food. It seemed, though, that she knew how to take flirting about as well as he knew how to take a compliment, so he again changed directions.

“kiddin’- ‘m kiddin’, doll,” he assured quickly, feeling a prick of pain in his soul. He was not kidding. He'd probably do anything to get her to willingly kiss him again. “heya, knock knock.”

She looked at him uncertainly, but lifted a brow and tilted her head. Who’s there?

“sherlock,” he told her, watching as she puzzled over it.

Sherlock who…? Seemed to be what she asked with her confused expression after a moment.

“ sherlock yer door tight, sweetheart,” he told her, watching as her eyes closed as she took it in, then her posture changed as she silently chuckled.

Sans’ smile widened in satisfaction that she enjoyed his joke. “knock knock, doll.”

She lifted her brow to ask who's there, but it was the cute little smile on her face that made his soul throb.

“mustache,” he told her, watching her expression contort in confusion.

Mustache? Can skeleton monsters even grow mustaches? What the hell? She thought and tilted her head inquiringly.

“ mustache ya a question, but i’ll shave it fer later,” he told her with a blow off expression, watching her giggle as squeaks and huffs left her.

There… that adorable expression on her face was a much better look than her being worried that he was going to do something unpleasant to her. Even if the worry was justifiable, given his track record concerning her…

He just watched her giggling for a moment, red spreading over the bridge of his nose.

She tapped her hand to his arm and managed to ask, you know a lot of knock knock jokes?

“knock knock,” he told her in answer, and she lifted a brow immediately in question. “rhino,” he told her.

Oh, this one had to be good. She tilted her head and lifted her brow again.

“ rhino every knock knock joke there is,” he told her, his grin getting a bit goofier at her reaction. Stars she was cute! “so, what else d’ja do?”

(Y/n) wondered if it was something normal for monsters to talk so comfortably with someone they’d only really just met the day before. It really seemed like some ideal relationship situation from some rom-com; he got home from work, told her about his day, asked about hers… The only thing missing was an actual relationship…

She masked the feelings her internal musings brought up with the ease of practice and gestured around the room. She was good at ‘don’t rock the boat.’

“jus’ this, huh?” He asked and she nodded before pointing at the cards, indicating that she'd also played cards. “sounds like a good day ta me, but maybe ‘m jus’ lazy,” he said as he closed his eye sockets. A contented smile tilting his normal grin up. “‘m gonna try ta get a nap in before dinner. feel like joinin’ me?”

(Y/n) shook her head to answer him, knowing he could see her though his slightly open socket.

“suit yerself, sweetheart,” he told her, shifting his shoulders as he got comfortable.

He seemed to almost immediately fall asleep, soft snores coming from him, and not even reacting when she’d waved her hand in front of his face.

She went back to her card game, the weird feeling of being so comfortable around a strange man (one that had pushed her against the wall and basically rubbed against her, no less!) struck her as wrong, but she couldn't bring herself to be truly uncomfortable.

Uneasy and worried from his actions sometimes?

For sure.

Uncomfortable?

Nope.

Something brushed against and down her back, laying against her butt.

(Y/n) looked over her shoulder, seeing Sans' arm laid out behind her. She watched him closely, not wanting to miss any tell in his expression, but other than slightly rolling toward her, he still seemed asleep.

She gave a doubtful glance, but it fell to the back of her mind as she continued her game.

After a few minutes, she felt Sans rolling toward her more, his hand sliding over the bed, snaking over her thigh, wrapping around her waist and burying his face against her thigh.

Oh, yeah. He's asleep, my ass, she mentally grumbled.

She rolled her eyes and went back to her game, not entirely comfortable with this extent of touching, but she knew that some good friends got touchy and cuddled, so it wasn't some insanely strange concept to her, even if they weren't that close.

Halfway through the next round of her game, (Y/n) felt Sans' arms tighten around her, and she looked down to see him rolling over onto his stomach, putting him on the cards and into her lap, his head awkwardly pressing against her.

She tried to shift around to get rid of the discomfort of his skull pressing against her hip, and the weird kink he'd put in his neck vertebrae to do so.

Of course, with all of her edging around his head, and their shifting around, she ended up laying back with him in her lap, his skull laying on her stomach. How could this end any other possible way with her luck?

Honestly, though, with all the terrible things he could possibly do to her, that she knew of and worried about, laying with his head on her stomach hadn't even made the list.

She gave a shattered, huffing sigh that made her cough a little, but it cleared quickly.

She kept herself ready in case she was going to have to defend herself from the skeleton, but folded her arms over her chest to feel like she had at least a little cover, and resigned herself to laying there until either he "woke up," or she had to convince him to move so she could use the bathroom.

Sans tightened his arms around his sweetheart as she coughed, hating that he didn't have green magic to try and fix it instantly, but, thankfully, it quickly ended.

He tried to be subtle, not wanting to give away that he was awake, but it was so hard when all he wanted to do was nuzzle into the soft squishiness of her belly. Especially when some of her squishiest bits were against his clavicle and were tempting him to rub against them… and give them a sniff…

fuck- ya smell so fuckin' good, sweetheart… He mentally groaned to himself.

(Y/n) shifted under him, but he didn't let it disturb him; he was an expert at pretending to sleep.

"SANS-"

The skeleton on her belly jumped at the loud voice, giving a grunt of surprise.

"YOU BETTER BE DOWN HERE IN FIVE MINUTES TO EAT DINNER!!"

"paps, you fuckin' sonuvabitch," he grumbled to himself, not quite audible to (Y/n).

"welp. dinner time, doll. you joinin' us downstairs 'gain t'night?" He asked as he sat up, not leaving the bed, or her pile of cards, but off of her.

She gave him a nervous look, not wanting to be afraid, but also very afraid of the tall, loud skeleton downstairs.

"aww, c'mon sweetheart, he ain't that bad. i mean, don't get me wrong, 'e's bad, but not that kind a bad."

As strange as it was for her to trust anyone so quickly, his words kind of made her feel better about being in the same room as the taller skeleton.

She followed him downstairs, deciding that she was misreading the look on his face and posture as content and proud, as though she trusted him to be her knight in a red sweater; it was probably just self confidence.

God knew she'd never felt that much of it to know.

Sans pulled out a chair for her, but instead of waiting to push her in, he sat in the chair next to it and shifted the seat, pulling it closer to him when she sat.

(Y/n) would protest, but she really did feel safer being closer to him, and farther away from the other skeleton.

He served her a small slice of lasagna, and she knew that it was because he knew it was going to taste awful, and he didn't want to stick her with too much to eat instead of a plot to starve her.

It was a quiet dinner, much the same as the night before, with the toe of Sans' sneaker hitting the leg of her chair he was so close, and Papyrus giving her not at all hidden suspicious glares, as though he didn't think it was safe to hold a conversation in front of her.

(Y/n) took another bite of the lasagna and hid her wince.

She really should have hidden those spices earlier…

A/N: Oh Sans... there's a difference between telling Paps that he's an amazing cook and telling (Y/n) she has to stay there because there's no possible way she can get home. Also, I recently got a message from someone who had made fanart of another story I wrote and asked if I wanted to see it- uh, fuck yeah, I do! You kidding?! You were inspired by something I wrote?! I'm gonna fangirl... I love it even more because I can't draw... I guess what I'm saying is that if you do anything inspired from something I've written (art, stories, drabbles), you don't have to ask, there's a 100% chance I want to see it. And that I'll squeal.

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nighttimelights-prompted · 7 years

Note

Oh jeez, I didn't actually think I'd win. Okay, uh, if it would be okay, the big four skelebros finding out that their s/o (humanoid) actually had like, huge feathery wings, +they wore a big cloak to hide them? They can fly w/ them, and all that jazz

(i do love that about raffles - chance is a fickle thing, but wonderful at the same time! this is an interesting prompt - i haven’t spent too much time considering the implications of such a person in the undertale/au worlds, so i’ll interpret it as best i can as my mind tends to very naturally consider the implications thereof.)

(in any case, congrats on winning the raffle - i hope you like it!

UT Sans:

You shouldn’t underestimate someone like the classic Sans.

Truth be told, your wings were aching for how long you had been hiding them - nearly two days straight now, without a moment of being able to shake them out of your cloak. Thankfully it had it’s own magical properties that completely sealed in your wings, even for a passing gust of wind that may lift it - but the sensation was pins and needles as time dragged on, and if you could feel every feather in them every one of them would all be aching. But at last, Sans had fallen asleep in the field near on the blanket laid out for you and your friends’ picnic, and the others had disappeared in the forest, looking to play a game or gather wood - or both.

Your shoulders were on fire, your wings just longing to catch an updraft and stretch out, just for a minute, then you would be good to tuck them away again.

… Sans has been a light sleeper for a long time yet, though.

So when he felt the strange hitch in magic near him, even something so low and nearly unnoticeable, it woke him up. He would’ve ignored it… if not for the sudden soft fwump of your unfurled wings catching that first beat of free air.

His eyelights disappeared as he watched you spiral into the sky, effortless and joyfully light in your movements.

Granted, you nearly fell out of the sky when you looked back down and caught him staring at you, but still.

He has so many questions, and while he may wait until a more private time to ask them, you won’t get out of them for long. In the end, he’s intrigued, and once he guarantees all is well, he’ll realize his infatuation has grown only stronger. It won’t be long before you’ll find yourself figuring out how to take him out on flights in secret, both of you feeling the most free you’ve ever been while gliding under the clear night sky.

(the rest of the skelebros under the cut...

UT Papyrus:

He was really just trying to be hospitable.

You were always wearing that cloak. He caught you on longer days spent together rubbing at your shoulders, a distant expression of discomfort on your face - and then other times you fiddled absently and insistently with the clasp, as if you wanted nothing more to take it off and relax. He wanted that for you, too! The way your face lit up whenever you were at ease around him, that delightful laugh of yours that had his magic betraying his adoration across his cheekbones, the sharp way your mind worked out puzzles and riddles with him - he loved it most when you felt welcome and at peace, so surely he could relieve you of that cloak, at least in the safety of his home.

Granted, you always refused when he offered… but still.

That’s why he’s the Great Papyrus - he’d find a way to put you at ease, one way or another.

Yes, even if that way happened to be sneaking up on you while you were at the stove, with a grace and stealth completely unbefitting a seven-foot-tall skeleton. Before you could react, his fingers had easily slipped around you to your front, undid the mechanism of your clasp, and he slipped your cloak off with the graceful flair of a matador.

He promptly was sent flying into the living room by the nearly violent explosion of your wings into reality.

You screamed at the sudden sensation and almost sent spaghetti flying right after him - but horrified realization dawned over you just as quickly, and you took several steps forward to check on him - but were stopped by the instincts of countless years of hiding.

Thankfully Sans wasn’t home, because as Papyrus recovered and jumped back to his feet and anxiously hovered without approaching in turn, it quickly devolved into a shouting match of mutual worry and love and horrified apologies.

Of course, Papyrus is in no way upset at this revelation - he understands your reasoning all too well, and while he desperately wants to shout to the entire Undernet about this wonderful new thing he found out about his s/o, he’ll keep your secret the safest it’s ever been with another soul.

… Also, I hope you like getting your feathers preened, because it won’t be long before Papyrus handily claims the sole right to massage your tense wings and gently check your feathers while you stay at his house.

UF Sans:

To be honest, your secret wasn’t much of one for long with Red. If you’re his s/o, you both lean heavily towards loving physical affection, at least in private - and you quickly figure out that with both of your trust issues, if you want to make this last, you’ll need to come clean about this. Perhaps you were friends for a long time first before caving into your attraction for him (and vice versa), perhaps not - but either way, you armed yourself with your resolve and feelings for him and managed to pull him into seclusion in his room one afternoon.

He started out with his usual dirty flirting, and tempted as you were to put it off just one more day, you were able to step back from him with the reassurance to him that… well, stars above you cared for him, and if he trusted you enough to let you so deeply into his life, then you were damn well going to do the same.

Your fingers flipped undone the mechanism of your clasp, and your cloak fell to the ground. Your eyes closed as relief and tension momentarily bled out of you and your wings unfolded into reality, still bent to avoid knocking anything open, but spread enough to span more than half the room.

When you finally felt brave enough to open your eyes, you caught Red staring at you, hands hovering half-outstretched, his eyelights burning a bright crimson that matched the softer glow of his cheekbones.

… A full, painfully silent minute later, you had to be the one to speak up first.

It all ended up coming out as if pouring from a spout that you had simply broken off, his ongoing silence and unreadable but not outright discouraging expression making it far easier to simply reveal more about your history and at why you were hiding - and why you were revealing this to him now, accidentally turning into you tripping over yourself as you confessed just how strongly you trusted him-

He finally cut you off, his face blazing crimson in a way that didn’t at all match his serious and conflicted and adoring expression. He’d simply pull you into a hug, his hands skating over your wings for a moment and drawing a shiver down your spine.

… After a bit of time that simply devolved into exploration, he’d ask a few simple questions about it, but just to round out his knowledge and satiate (for the moment) his building curiosity. He knows too well the need to hide everything that could mark you as vulnerably different, though, so he’s got your back in ways you’d never even dare to consider asking.

If anyone tries to blackmail you… well.

They’d turn up missing soon enough.

UF Papyrus:

He’d held a respect for your mysterious refusal to remove your cloak the entire time he’d known you. Even at your first meeting and his brash attitude, a part of him begrudgingly felt admirably towards your standards on your appearance in that facet.

Once you’re his s/o, however, he finds the curiosity simply eating him alive. He has standards, though - and damn, you respect his penchant for the black and red and spiky, so he can’t quite put himself up to demanding you take it off to satiate his curiosity - really, he’s never seen you without it, and even he has removed his signature red scarf around you on the heated occasion…

… Well. That doesn’t mean he won’t tail you once he figures out your scattered weekly sessions to disappear into the woods. You never go at the same time, and never by the exact same route, but always for hours on end, and always with a notable relief in the buildup of tension in your shoulders and back upon your next time seeing Edge.

He is nothing if not sharply observant - even as loud and harsh as he is, there aren’t many details that escape him. So even if this doesn’t have to do with your strange cloak and a few other odd pieces of behavior, he’ll at least figure out what you’re doing out there in the forest, for better or worse.

It actually takes him several weeks’ worth of attempts to track you the full way - you nearly caught him the first two times, and a few more following that you simply somehow managed to lose even him.

It was nighttime, the week he finally followed you for the full hour and a half you trekked into the woods, the week he finally caught you step into a clearing halfway around the mountain, far from any other sentient soul -

It was nighttime when he saw your cloak slip to the ground, when he saw your wings unfurl under the washed-out light of the moon and stars, when he saw you crouch down for just a moment as your wings shook out, fanned - and when he saw you take to the skies.

For nearly an hour he watched you, disappearing on occasion in low banks around the safe side of the mountain, only to return and circle high, high above, free and unrestrained in these moments you stole for yourself.

You nearly decked him in the ribs when he cleared his throat behind you after you landed.

The following moment, as you caught your fist before it made contact, as you watched his brow ridge draw upwards, as your wings fluffed up in horror and instinct, you thought you could truly feel your soul drop out of your own chest.

… He didn’t mince words, in the end, asking you several questions, which you found yourself nearly shell-shocked answering as plainly as he asked them. Your mind caught up quickly enough, and you knew that it was make or break either way - he’d either accept all this, or you’d be on the run… again.

After just ten more minutes, you found yourself once more silently staring at Edge. You had crossed your arms, and were holding your ground, despite your racing heart - you knew him well at this point, knew how many decisions and options and outcomes he was thinking through at breakneck pace as he returned your hard gaze.

When he reached out and took your hand, you forgot how to breathe.

When he slowly, so very slowly, lifted your hand to press your fingers to his mouth in a semblance of a kiss, you felt your chest constrict with the sudden flood of far too many feelings.

He smirked then, a devilish look to his flashing gaze, and said that he always knew you were more than most fools bargained for.

US Sans:

It might’ve been a bad idea to pass out on the couch with him after a long, late night of watching a certain old sci-fi series that he had been unable to come across Underground.

You were both the cuddly sort when it got down to it, and ever the gentleman as he was he had provided you with blankets and pillows and the most absurdly wonderful and gentle scalp massages you had ever experienced - so it was only natural that you’d end up so comfortable as to fall asleep, your head tucked just perfectly near his collarbone, his arms wrapped around you as you both nestled closer in your dream-ridden states.

You were both rudely awoken when your wings flared outwards - promptly shoving you both off the couch with the force of their reappearance.

As it turned out, Blue was apparently inclined to fiddle with whatever kaid within hands reach when he slept… including your specially-made clasp.

So there you were, straddling Blue with your hands planted on either side of his head, your wings flared in instinctual search for better balance. His eyesockets were wide, his bright blue starry eyelights trained on you with a bewildered fierceness you were certain neither of you were expecting at this hour, or this situation -

He blushed slowly cyan as you blushed a deep red of your own.

So very, very slowly, he lifted his hands. You had plenty of time to move out of the way, and you knew he intended it as such - but you remained willingly frozen as he relaxed just a tad more and his arms shifted just that little bit more…

You shuddered as his fingers slid down your feathers. You bit your lip and colored a little more at the look on his face as his eyelights searched your expression for any pain, any sign of discomfort - but he found none, and with a small, encouraging forward shift from you, he gently continued his exploration.

The words of adoration and praise, so soft, gentle, and private, had you burying your face into his shoulder as his deep chuckle ran further thrills through you.

At his almost surprisingly gentle questioning, you began to explain your background, and how you had to hide them, and the nature of your cloak - his attention never wavered from you, and as you talked he continued exploring your wings. You paused on occasion, redirecting or instructing him, and by the end of your explanation he felt like an expert with his soothing touches to your ever-tense wings.

He swore he would keep your secret - and with the twinkle in his eye, you had a definite feeling that you were facing a future where an incredibly cunning skeleton was going to find increasingly clever ways to help you spread your wings in private, with his careful eye and hand to provide every kind of support you could dare hope for.

US Papyrus:

He’s anything but inclined to push you on revealing whatever it is you're hiding, honestly. He has his own secrets, far too many to be healthy, but as you respect his he respects yours - it’s clear you have no ill intention through the bright way your soul shines, so he trusts you well enough.

… You realize, though, that even as his s/o… things won’t develop further unless you both place further trust in one another. And while you desperately want to know what it is that haunts his nightmares and hides behind the darker shadows of his gaze when something threatens the few things he cares about… well, you won’t push him without showing him that you are as open with him. But you also aren’t entirely willing to bare yourself without reciprocated trust.

So one day you offer him a deal as you’re about to head home.

You want to be closer - yet you know you’ve both got your reasons for what you hide. So… if he’s willing to share some of his past and what affects him so strongly, you’re willing to do the same.

His eyesockets go wide, and you give him a tired grin, expecting that bit of mild disbelief. Still, you give him a peck on the cheek, and tell him that you’ll see him tomorrow either way - no hard feelings.

He texts you a little after midnight, asking if you’re free to talk.

He appears at your door and knocks the moment you send off your positive response. You go through your traditional knock-knock routine, breaking just a bit of the anxious tension that flared in you all over again - and if you were reading him right, eased him a little too.

You took his hand when he ended up standing in your entryway, vaguely at a loss for how to continue. With ease you led him to your room, and sat yourself cross-legged on the mattress - a quirk of your brow and your lips drew a huff of a laugh out of him. He joined you then, his back meeting the wall as he settled in and tucked his hands back into his hoodie pocket.

You tilted your head slightly as you considered him, curious about what was running through his head…

Your mind made up, you lifted your hand to your cloak’s clasp. You hesitated for just a moment, softly warning him that what you’re about to show him is… unexpected, at best, but to not freak out or anything. He nods, just the once, an uncharacteristically serious set to his tired face.

You undo the clasp, and unfold your wings.

Well, truthfully, you only partially unfold them - while your room was tactically set up to allow you to walk around like this, the sheer span of your wings was certainly enough to be intimidating, and that was the last thing you wanted.

You waited, expecting an ongoing silence for at least a little bit as he reeled, or prepared to drill you for hiding something like this-

What you didn’t expect was his near-immediate “holy shit.”

Your own eyes widened nearly as much as his sockets. Within a moment, you were laughing so hard you were bent double.

Of all reactions, this may have been the best you never could have seen coming.

It took you another minute, particularly because Stretch had ended up blushing and laughing on his own at his slip - but you got your laughter under control and were able to give him a short explanation of what… what it was all about.

He listened intently, the faintest trace of a blush still on his face. At last, he asked a few questions - just a few, ones that you felt like he had been weighing the entire time you talked, but there was a promise of deeper exploration to come.

Afterwards, he opened his arms to you - no demand, just an offer, should you choose to accept it - and you do. Grateful and relieved and fighting a slight giddiness from the wave of emotions, you returned his embrace easily, the pair of you ending up mostly laying down as you laid half over him with your wings comfortably folded. Tentatively, one of his hands stroked your wing - eliciting a pleased sound from you, and a relieved one from him.

Another few minutes passed... but slowly, slowly, he began telling you of the source of his nightmares.

SF Sans:

You… weren’t actually officially Spike’s s/o yet when he found out.

You had known him for months by the night he invited you back into the workshop he kept at home. Against so very many odds, you had become incredibly close to one another - the fact that he was at last inviting you back here, somewhere you knew only a few other living souls had ever been allowed, said as much.

He walked you around the room with absolute ease, explaining a few of the different tools, machines, blueprints, even some of the strange books marked with ancient languages and even a few runes you recognized-

When he picked one up and flipped to an open page as he spoke about an ancient language that worked through words of power and intent, and one in particular that acted as a powerful sealing and illusionary spell, you froze. He showed you the page as he stepped to your side, his arm brushing against yours.

The rune on the dark, aged parchment perfectly matched the engraved pattern on your clasp.

He said nothing more, simply meeting your gaze with an unreadable expression as your focus slid to him.

Several moments passed, the eye of the storm meeting the slow balancing of the scales.

Finally, your breath returned to you, and you sighed, a small, rueful smile playing at your lips as you shook your head. Your gaze went to the cracked door, and back to him - with a simple wave of his hand and the spark of purple magic the door shut and locked. You nodded, then turned and faced him fully, taking just a step back.

Your hand hovered at your clasp for a moment as you considered him - he simply stood there observing you, and despite his measured expression, you knew him well enough to be able to catch that eager, curious spark to his eyelights - a puzzle nearly solved, a number of suspicions nearly tied together, and most importantly… a wary but present trust, even as he looked ready to snap a release on his own magic should the need arise.

With practiced ease, you undid your clasp.

You’d be lying if you said the shock that froze his confidently easy posture didn’t provide you some slight pleasure.

In just a few sentences as he stood frozen - this clearly not quite what he had been picturing - you explained your circumstances, your need for secrecy… and you left unsaid, but so very clearly presented, the measure of staggering trust you had just laid in him.

His gaze returned properly to your own at last. He then closed the small distance between you both, the tension only growing more thick -

His arm scooped around your waist and his other hand tipped your head back slightly as he pulled you close and kissed you for the first time.

To say that you responded well would be… an understatement.

Eventually, you ended up spending hours in there, talking more in depth about all manner of details on both your sides - the depths of his research was staggering, providing all new facets of consideration for a background you had never truly been able to explore for your own safety.

All the while, his hand held yours, your fingers intertwined.

SF Papyrus:

He had just taken an actual bullet for you.

Anti-monster resentment and outright violence was on the rise, and one human faction in particular was growing in its boldness as it took to hunting down not only monsters but the humans that associated with them. Russ had tried to push you away for a short while, plainly stating that it was for your own good, but you had validly argued back that you were friends with other monsters anyways, and had no intention on changing your behavior just because of the danger of a particularly violent group of assholes. He had taken to escorting you whenever you wanted to go out, if you were willing to have him - and if not, you had a feeling he was doing so anyways.

Tonight you were returning home from Muffet’s, a little too drunkenly on both your parts to safely teleport, and - well, what mattered is that now you held Russ in your arms, a strange fluid that matched the golden color of his magic oozing through his shirt from his ribs. The humans had been readily chased away by the blinding beam of concentrated magic he had shot from whatever the hell that dragon-like skull had been.

But stars, Russ was looking worse and worse. He told you to go, that the humans would be back soon, and he could hide himself away for now. You swore at him and told him to shut it, frustrated affection marring the effect.

It was only a few more seconds of delay before you made up your mind. You certainly couldn’t haul him anywhere fast enough walking - but…

Your hand grasped the clasp of your cloak. Consequences be damned, you would at least get him somewhere someone could do first aid. You met his gaze then, and told him to trust you - that you’d get him to safety.

With your clasp undone, you unfurled your wings.

Russ swore long and low under his breath, and whispered something about the ‘real angel’. You were blushing a bit, but chalked up his rambling to the effects of pain.

After a bit of struggling and a hushed apology for jostling him, he was on your back, and you were holding him as tightly as you could. With a few beats of your wings you were in the air, shooting high into the sky with a handful of updrafts, banking on safety in the obscurity of distance as you swerved to angle towards your destination.

Despite the circumstances, you couldn’t help but smile and flush a little deeper yet as Russ managed to whisper a few scattered words of adoration while you soared through the night sky.

#undertale prompts #undertale imagines #undertale #underfell #underswap #swapfell #ut sans #uf sans #us sans #sf sans #ut pap #uf pap #us pap #sf pap #the skelebros find out their s/o has wings #i hadn't really considered this general scenario type before so this was a neat challenge!#hope you enjoy #left the implications of s/o with wings largely up to imagination heh #yes-virtualcollectorpeace

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skeletorific · 7 years

Note

all of the usual skelebros (that is, ut, uf, us, and sf) reactions to their S/O making pie or ice cream sundaes or whatever, and they "accidentally" squirt a lil bit of whipped cream on their boyfriend's face and try to kiss and/or lick it off. not in, like, a dirty sexual way tho. S/O is just rlly rlly shy and wants an excuse to smooch their cute skeleton man ;;

(I don’t have emojis on PC, sooo….)

THIS *clap* CUTE *clap* SHIT *clap* IS *clap* MY *clap* JAM. Also this might be toeing a lil closer to nsfw than usual but then again, its me.

Also also, this got kinda long because I was in a mood for fluff, so some under the cut. A lot under the cut.

UT!Sans: “sweet of you to cook.” He grinned from his spot leaning on the counter.

You roll your eyes.”That was barely a pun, dude.”

The grin widened and he came up behind you. “come on, I’m pie-ing here.”

That one gets a small smile out of you and you turn back to the pastry. He reaches from behind you. “hang on, think it needs a test-”

You smack him away. “Phalanges off, its not done.” You gesture the can in your hand. “I abjectly refuse to let you eat pie without whipped cream, I’m a good person. So just sit tight.”

He smirked, holding his hands up and backing away. “alright, alright. normally i’d argue but you’ve got me whipped, babe.”

Your dramatic sigh draws out a full laugh from him, and you can’t help but grin. Stars he was cute. You still weren’t totally adjusted to the idea that he was yours. You started filling that familiar urge to kiss him, but as usual you had no idea how to initiate it. Good night kisses were easy (well, getting easier), but stuff like spontaneous affection didn’t exactly come naturally to you. Suddenly you became aware of the can in your hand. A bit cheesy, maybe, but….

You started shaking the can, presumably to get it ready, when your finger “slipped” and sprayed it back directly at his face. He spluttered slightly, some having fallen directly into his laughing mouth. “oh, shit, sorry, let me get that off. “You step closer, helping him wipe away what’s on his sweatshirt. Then, your eyes zero in on the glob by his cheekbone and you lean in, kissing it away.

When you pull away, his cheeks are flushed BRIGHT blue and his eyelights have vanished. For a brief moment you’re worried you overstepped your boundaries. “Uh…got it.” You turn back to your work. Half a seond you feel a par of arms wrapping around your waist and a small skelekiss on your cheek.

“heh. didn’t need to make an excuse. already know you’re sweet on me.”

UT!Papyrus: “DATEMATE! RELINQUISH THE WHIPPED CREAM!”

“Not a chance” you say, stubbornly holding the can behind you to keep it away from your boyfriend’s impossibly long arms. “Whipped cream can not go on spaghetti, this where I draw the line.”

“Come on, kid, dessert pasta is the way of the future!” Undyne said. “You humans already have dessert pizza, this is just the next step!”

“No.”

“DATEMATE!” Papyrus stomped his foot, looking put out. “YOU ARE BEING EXTREMELY DIFFICULT!”

You grin. You couldn’t help it. For as much as you loved your boyfriend’s general positivity, he was oddly adorable when he was frustrated. Still, you wanted a quick way to cheer him back up. Impulsively, you say “Alright, want the whipped cream?” You squirt some on his face. Undyne, despite wanting it back as much as he did, cackled with laughter at the sight of a miffed skeleton covered in dessert topping. He wipes it off, looking more annoyed than ever. But he missed one single glob in the corner of his mandible.

Still running on impulse, you lean over and kiss him, catching it in your mouth.

Undyne laughs harder while Papyrus grows startled. He stares at you for a full minute before a huge smile spreads across his face. “AH, I SEE WHAT’S HAPPENING HERE!” He put a hand on top of your head. “OBVIOUSLY I HAVE BEEN NEGLECTING MY DUTIES AS YOUR GREAT BOYFRIEND AND YOU FELT THE NEED TO RESORT TO CHILDISH JAPES IN ORDER TO GET AFFECTION!”

“Um,” you blush slightly at his sweet but somewhat embarrassing conclusion. “Well, that wasn’t exactly what I-”

“WORRY NOT, HUMAN! ALL YOU WOULD HAVE TO DO WAS ASK, BUT I HAVE CLEVERLY DEDUCED THE CAUSE OF YOUR BEHAVIOR! NOW, PREPARE TO BE SMOOCHED BY THE GREAT PAPYRUS!”

All told, its a good kiss, only slightly marred by Undyne making exaggerated gagging noises in the background. You still don’t give them the whipped cream after though.

UF!Sans: A door slam and a low trail of mutters signal your boyfriend’s arrival long before he storms into the kitchen and plops himself down at the counter. You look up from the sundae you were making yourself. “Hey.”

He grumbles something by way of greeting and lets his head collapse into his arms.

“They kept you late?” You start spreading whipped cream on the top of the ice cream.

“i don’t know why the fuck frisk keeps dragging me to this ambassador’s shit. buncha stuffed shirt assholes talkin for hours about nothin in particular. almost fired a damn blaster off in the room just to break the fuckin monotony.”

“Well, that would’ve done wonders for monster-human relationships.” You say, taking a spoonful in your mouth.

He mumbles something unintelligible, not raising his head.

You sigh internally. On the one hand his mood is pretty justifiable, but on the other he’s not much fun like this and you suck at just basic comfort. You need a quick fix, but you’re not sure what……

This is either going to go really well or 100% blow up in your face, but dating Red was never for the faint of heart anyways. You walk over to him. “Hey, could you look up for a second?”

He groans and doesn’t move.

“Come on, just for a second.”

A long pause and he reluctantly turns to look at you….only to be greeted by a faceful of whipped cream. He splutters, shaking most of it off. “what the hell?!”

You lean in and lick off whatever hasn’t been shook free.

He stares for a bit, cheekbones faintly tinted red. Finally he sighed and pulled you into his lap. “you’re lucky you’re cute.”

You grin and kiss his cheekbone. “Aren’t I just.”

UF!Papyrus: You know, for someone reputed (at least by himself) to be one of the sharpest minds of the Underground, Pyrus could be remarkably oblivious.

You’d finally done it. After almost a year of unending nagging, pleading, and cooking together, you’d gotten him to trust you with full control of his precious kitchen. You were planning on making this something of a special night, getting dressed in a cute outfit and sauntering around cooking like the kitchen gods/goddesses of commercials. You were hoping that this might get one of the rare breaks in your boyfriend’s formal front to show.

And he was doing the stars-damned paperwork!

“Dessert will be ready soon!” You said, hoping to draw his eyes up.

“OKAY” he said distractedly, eyes buried in his work.

“I made apple pie. Your favorite.”

“THAT’S NICE.” He says, not even glancing up.

You sigh as you start putting on the whipped cream. You’re not a particular needy person about affection, generally. Its pretty much a requirement for dating Pyrus. But even your meter had been feeling a little low lately. The problem was initiating it though. Edge was usually a little repelled by obvious attempts at cuddles. He preferred to be led into it a little more naturally. Unfortunately, it seems like subtle isn’t exactly cutting it right now.

The idea comes to you as you’re walking over to deliver the pie, and you smile uncontrollably. You pass the plate dangerously close to his cheekbone before setting it down on the table in front of him “Here~”

Finally, finally he looks you in the eyes. ‘THANK YOU.”

“No problem. Oh, whoops.” you put a hand to the side of his face, just under the glob. “Got a bit of whipped cream on your cheekbone.” His hand moves to wipe it off, but your mouth got there first, and you kissed it off. “Got it.”

He turns bright red. Its as you walk away that he notices what you’re wearing and chases after you to give you the affection you’ve been looking for.

US!Sans: “I think we’ve covered this sundae.” You say, backing away.

“NONSENSE, WE DON’T HAVE NEARLY ENOUGH!” Sans took the can from your hand and kept squirted higher and higher mounds.

You smile and shake your head, throwing more and more sprinkles on. “Your brother’s gonna kill us for using this much of his sweets stash.”

There was a mischievious glint in his blue eyes as he grinned. “PAPY DOESN’T HAVE TO KNOW EVERYTHING. BESIDES,” he giggled and dabbed some topping on your nose. “THE MAGNIFICENT SANS ONLY MAKES THE BEST SUNDAES”

You blush faintly and laugh. As you keep working you can’t really tear your eyes off of him. His mischievious side is something Sans has only recently started showing to you, and you can’t help but be entranced by it. This short little bundle of joy, normally so responsible and so concerned with following the rules, has a pranking streak to rival his brother’s and a grin that nears a smirk. Its thrilling, in a way, and throw you off blanace in the best way possible.

Yet it also has you feeling uncharateristically.shy around him. You’ve been dating for a few months, but this side him feels….oddly out of your league. Like you’re not quite fast enough on your mental feet for him. You’re oddly blushy and praying he doesn’t notice. Still, you need to do something to take back a little control. Fortunately, he’s justgiven you the perfect idea.

You manage to flick some whipped cream onto his cheek, and as he’s turning to ask why you lean over and suck it off.

He grins. “DATEMATE, IF YOU WANTED A KISS, YOU COULD’VE JUST ASKED.” He kisses you sweetly on the mouth and gets back to work.

So much for getting control of the blush.

US!Papyrus: “Spider pie should really not be this good to me.”

“heh, don’t let Muffet here you saying that.” Pap took a swig from his honey bottle. “but yeah, she’s the best.”

“Seriously, this is a little unnerving.” You soaked another bite in melting whipped ream and ate it. “Maybe I’ve just had a secret taste for spider carcasses this entire time.”

He grinned. “can I pick a date spot or can i?”

You duck into your food to hide your oncoming blush. You had almost forgotten this was a date. Officialy. Of course, the two of you had been seeing each other for months now, with some definite chemistry underneath, but this was teh first time he had proposed hanging out by saying “wanna go out on a date?” Nothing external had really been different, but somehow that rhetoric shift had completely thrown you off.

And you wanted to do something, something that set this apart, showed him you were ready for this relationship to mean more than two friends with some kind of undefined slow burn between you. Finally, something occurred to you. “Here, try a bit of this.”

He shook his head. “Nah, pie’s not really my thing.”

“Come on.” You shove the bite on your fork against his teeth, the whipped cream squishing out around it.

He rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to accept the food. He swallowed it and shrugged. “its aight.”

You leaned in and licked off the whipped cream.

He looked surprised when you pulled back and you looked to the side, blushing. “Uh….had some on your…

“come here for a sec”

You turn your face slightly and his teeth crash against you, pulling you into a deep kiss. You’re startled, but relax into it, enjoying the moment.

Finally, he breaks off, smirking faintly. “i was right.”

You raise an eyebrow. “About what?”

He grinned. “it does taste better in your mouth.”

You blush and shove his shoulder.

SF!Sans: “YOU CANNOT BE DOING THAT RIGHT.”

You sighed. “Look, I’m following the recipe to the letter, okay?”

Sans looked unconvinced. “IF I KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT COOKING, WHICH I DO, SOMETHING SHOULD DEFINITELY BE ON FIRE.”

“Well, maybe this pie is different.” You say, handing him two slices. “Make yourself useful and put some topping on this.”

“I’M ALWAYS USEFUL.” Still, he started applying some.

You can’t help but grin at his intense focus. It didn’t matter what it was, Sans always gave his 110% to it. He seemed to be trying to spell your names on your separate slices, but kept having to start over beause he made the letters too big. He was getting frustrated, but it was kind of cute.

You felt an overwhelming urge to kiss him, but Sans didn’t really like you initiating PDA. Technically this was the house, but Papyrus was still around. You would need a good cover story. Fortunately, opportunity presented itself momentarily.

“THIS CAN’S OUT.” He said.

“Hang on, I’ll get another one. “ You pulled out a new can and brought it to him, your finger pressing on the top a split second before he grabbed it. He shrieked slightly in annoyance.

“Oh, sorry, sweetie, my finger slipped.” You set the can aside and kissed it off. “There.”

His cheekbones flushed and glared at you for a minute. Just as you’re about to chalk it up as a failure and turn aside he suddenly shoves some whipped cream in your face.

“MY FINGER SLIPPED. I HAVE TO CLEAN YOU OFF WITH MY MOUTH NOW.”

SF!Papyrus: A hand on your collar dragged you away from the table. “hands off.”

“I’m telling you, you’ll love it.” You say, brandishing the whipped cream can.

“i gotta tie you down?” Papyrus tossed you on the couch before returning to his food.

“But its good on pancakes!”

“certain things are sacred, kid. don’t mess with a perfectly good plate of pancakes.”

You roll your eyes, waiting a few minutes before attempting to sneak up on him, slowly reaching your hand around his head, poised to squirt-

His hand catches your wrist and he tugs you into his laps, using one arm to pin your arms to your sides He chuckled and leaned by your ear. “sorry about the confinement, but its the one way i know you’ll behave.” He then resumed eating one-handed.

You huff impatiently, but you’re blushing. You and Papyrus hadn’t been dating that long, you still weren’t really used to him touching you like this. Not to say that you were complaining. In fact, you wanted more, but you weren’t quite bold enough to take it for yourself. At least, not just by kissing him. Blushing furiously, you pressed down on the can top, shooting whipped cream up into his face.

He paused, then sighed, deeply, wiping at his face “seriously, wha-”

You lean over abruptly and kiss off some small globs. When you leaned back he was frozen in place.

“Uh….I’m gonna get some water. “ You jumped off his lap and move to run out when the hand still on your wrist tightens. You feel yourself being tugged back again and his arms wrap around you. One hand tilts your chin up toward his face and he smiles.

“on second thought maybe i will have a taste of that…”

#this took SO LONG #idk why this prompt just really brought out the minific in me #undertale #underswap #underfell #swapfell #sans #papyrus #uf!sans #uf!papyrus #us!sans #us!papyrus #sf!sans #sf!papyrus #whipped cream kisses #fluff #headcanons

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minijenn · 7 years

Note

🐺, UF Dipper with him slowly turning into a werewolf please

(Painful transformation)

(So I do indeed have the idea in mind to do a chapterabout this in the sequel, but hey, that’s a long way off, so I figured why notdo a little drabble for it now. So remember how the other night I said that, atleast in UF, vampires in Gravity Falls are rather… different? Well same forwerewolfs, only they’re a little more direct visually to how they usually are.Instead, the transformation and duration is what’s different. So when you getbitten by a Gravity Falls werewolf, it’s a gradual, slow (hey you asked forslow, so I figured that’s what I’d roll with) and indeed painful process thatspreads across the course of several days until bam: you’re full werewolf. Andinstead of only being in that form during the full moon or whatever, you’re awerewolf all the time, except for the full moon when you turn back intoa human and that’s pretty much the only time you get to be a human, so yeah…the entire process… kinda sucks a lot. But hey, ya’ll a bunch of sadisticfucks who like it when I systematically torture my favorite son, so… here wego, I guess)

(NOTE: This isn’t done. I kinda got burnt out on writingit halfway through and its already fucking LONG as shit, but I really do likethe concept, so I’ll probably revisit it someday if somebody asks. Chances areI’ll use this as the base for the werewolf chapter in the sequel, but I’llprobably take it in a little different of a direction than this… I dunno we’llsee, but again to clarify, this ain’t done. So… yeah. Enjoy!)

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold everything!” Mabelexclaimed, looking between Steven and Dipper in apt disbelief. “What didyou just say?”

“I said,” Steven began, just as anxious andworried as he had been when the boys had arrived at the shack. “Dipperjust got bit by a werewolf!”

“Steven, for the last time,” Dipper interjected,rolling his eyes as he cut off Mabel’s awestruck gasp. “It wasn’t awerewolf. It was just a regular wolf.”

“Oh yeah? Then how come my spit wasn’t able to healit?” Steven asked dubiously.

“B-because…” Dipper said, glancing to the fairlysizable, still-bleeding bitemarks on his upper arm, ones that still hurt agreat deal, even despite his meager attempts to staunch the wound with hisother hand. “I… I don’t know. Maybe it was just like, a fluke orsomething.”

“But I tried to heal you three times and itnever worked!” The young Gem protested fretfully. “Plus, that ‘wolf’sure didn’t look any wolf I’ve ever seen before. It was huge and hadthese eyes that looked almost… human… It was creepy.”

“Well, whatever it was, it wasn’t a-”

“Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh!” Mabel cutin, practically squealing with excitement as she hopped out of her seat andgrabbed her brother’s hands, not even hearing his pained gasp as she jerked hisinjured arm forward. “Dipper! Do you realize what’s happening?! You’regonna turn into a super-cool, super-buff werewolf, just like in the movies!You’re finally gonna have chest hair, and plenty of it, just like you alwayswanted! Isn’t it exciting?”

“No, because it isn’t happening,” Dipper scoffed,pulling himself away from Mabel. “Like I said, I wasn’t bitten by any 'werewolf’or anything like that, so I’m definitely not going to turn into one,ok?”

“Pfft, sounds to me like somebody’s just in denialabout all of the totally awesome werewolf powers he’s about to get,” Mabelpouted as she crossed her arms.

“Dipper, are you sure?” Steven asked, still quiteconcerned. “I mean, if it really was a werewolf, then maybe the Gems orMr. Ford could-”

“No,” Dipper staunchly refused, covering up hiswound a bit more as he turned to leave the room. “We’re not tellingany of them about this. If we do, they’ll just think I was being recklessagain. So as far as I’m concerned, none of them need to know. After all, it’snot like this is even a real problem or anything.”

“Yeah, but what if-” Steven found himself abruptlycut off as Dipper suddenly spun around again, apparently snarling as he glaredat the young Gem fiercely, his teeth bared and his hands clenched into tightfists. For a moment, all Steven and Mabel could do was exchange a glance ofsurprise at this, before both of them looked back to Dipper with shared,newfound concern. “Uh… are you… growling at me?” Steven asked,raising a confused, wary eyebrow.

Of course, upon being called out, Dipper instantly silencedhimself, regaining his composure as he looked away from the pair, clearlyembarrassed and also suddenly quite unnerved. “I, uh… I wasn’t… I-I…I gotta go!” Without sparing another word, he rushed out, leaving Stevenand Mabel behind, both of them rather disconcerted by what had just happened.

“Well, there’s no doubt about it,” Mabelconcluded, her hands on her hips as she met Steven’s worried frown evenly.“He’s totally turning into a werewolf.”

Dipper let out an uneven breath as he finished cleaning anddressing the bite wound on his arm, surprised that it still hurt just as muchas much as it did when the wolf that had attacked him and Steven in the woodsfirst bit him. As much as he didn’t think Steven and Mabel’s simultaneousconcern and excitement had any real merit, he still couldn’t deny that he was justthe slightest bit on edge after how he had actually growled at them earlier, animpulse he had never, ever had before now. Still, he knew that wasn’t anywherenear enough to actually confirm that he had indeed been bitten by a werewolf asthey thought. It wasn’t as if he didn’t believe that werewolves existed inGravity Falls, of all places; after all, he had seen Ford’s notes about them injournal 1 himself. But what he didn’t want to believe was that he had fallenvictim to one, and he especially didn’t want to believe was eventually going toturn into one himself.

Still, even if Dipper wasn’t convinced such a thing wasgoing to happen, he figured that there really wouldn’t be any way of knowinguntil the next full moon, which was several days away at best. Chances werethat by then, all of this werewolf business would be forgotten about anyway,largely since he knew it to be nothing more than just Steven and Mabel’s wildspeculation, something that usually held little weight in reality. Certainly,in a few days’ time, his bite wound would heal and be just another scar to addto the admittedly impressive collection or them he had accumulated over thecourse of the summer.

However, just as Dipper was about to head downstairs toprofess his confidence on the matter to Mabel and Steven, a very sudden, verysharp pain erupted near the base of his spine, one that enough to elicit a loudcry of agony as it only grew more and more intense. Of course, Steven and Mabelclearly heard this from the den downstairs, and, with both of them alreadyquite concerned for Dipper, they didn’t hesitate to hurry upstairs and burstinto the bathroom without any delay. They were, however, quick to stop at thedoor in unified shock at what the saw.

Dipper was in the midst of picking himself off the floor,his pained cry now replaced with shallow, exhausted breathing as he tried torecover from what he had just gone through. But what was even more alarming wasthe large, long, furry tail that now curled up behind him. “Uh…guys?” He began weakly, glancing to his new tail with apt fear. “I-Ithink this might be a problem after all…”

“No way…” Steven breathed, completely stunned asMabel hurried to help Dipper stand up. “Dipper! You have a tail!”

“Oh gee, I didn’t know that, Steven,” Dipperdeadpanned crossly, his tail flickering in annoyance. “It’s not like Ifelt it grow out of my spine or anything. Oh wait, I did. And it hurt, a ton.”

“Well if it’s any consolation, bro-bro, your tail is sosoft and so pretty!” Mabel gushed, stroking the light brown furhappily before Dipper abruptly pulled it away from her.

“Mabel, cut that out!” He exclaimed, holding hisnew appendage protectively as he blushed in embarrassment over it.

“W-well I think it’s safe to say that wolf really was awerewolf after all, huh?” Steven spoke up worriedly. “But uh… Ithought that if you were bit by one, you only transform during the full moon,like in the all the movies…”

“That’s what I thought too…” Dipper mused,frowning as he looked to his tail again. “Maybe werewolves in GravityFalls are different somehow?”

“Well I’m sure Grunkle Ford would know about all thiswerewolf biz,” Mabel suggested. “Why don’t we go ask him?”

“W-we can’t!” Dipper protested, flustered.“Like I said, I don’t want him to think I was being dumb and reckless byletting something like this happen to me. He’ll probably say I’m tooirresponsible to handle paranormal stuff anymore, and t-then he won’t let me goon investigations or anything else with him ever again! And I can’t let thathappen!”

“Seriously, Dipper?” Mabel raised an eyebrow.“That’s what you’re worried about right now? In case you haven’tnoticed, you kinda grew a tail. And chances are you’re probably gonna growpaws, and teeth, and fur, and who knows what else. And as cool I think as allthat is, your silly pride should probably come second to all that.”

“It’s not about pride!” Dipper argued, even if heknew that was exactly what it was about. “Look, we don’t need Great UncleFord’s help with this. We can figure out a cure all by ourselves.”

“Wait, we can?” Steven asked, uncertain.

“Of course we can,” Dipper assured, trying toconvince himself of this as well. “After all, how hard can curingwerewolfism be?”

“Probably about as hard as its gonna be for you to hidethis adorable tail from everyone,” Mabel smirked sardonically asshe started playfully petting it once more.

“Ok, seriously, Mabel,” Dipper scowled, yankinghis tail out of her hands once again. “Stop doing that.”

As it turned out, finding a cure for warewolfism was goingto be a lot harder than any of them could have anticipated. While Dipper wasn’ttoo keen on telling Ford about the situation, or anyone else for that matter,he did manage to slip journal 1 out of the author’s study while Mabel andSteven kept him distracted. Unfortunately, as was the case throughout manyentries across all three of the journals, Ford’s research on werewolves wasapparently incomplete, with no known cure or reversal for the condition to befound, something that Dipper apprehensively reported to Steven and Mabel asthey all congregated in the attic.

“So… there’s no way to fix this?” Steven askedwith concern as he glanced over what the journal had to say for himself.

“N-no, no, there’s gotta be something we can do,”Dipper shook his head as he paced around the attic almost frantically, his longtail dragging behind him. “There has to be some kind of cure GreatUncle Ford didn’t know about. We have to find it, no matter what!”

“Geez, bro-bro, calm down a sec,” Mabel remarkedrather casually. “So you’ll turn into a cute, fluffy werewolf every fullmoon. What’s really so bad about that?”

“Mabel, did you even read what the journal saidabout werewolves?!” Dipper asked hotly, his entire manner tense and deeplyfrightened. “Werewolves here in Gravity Falls really are different! I-it’salmost like they’re backwards or something! They transform slowly, over thecourse of several days, and then, once they’re full werewolf, they stay likethat, pretty much all the time, except for during full moons!”

“Wait…” Mabel sat up on her bed with growingfear. “So… so if we don’t find a way to reverse this…”

“Then the only time Dipper will get to be human isduring full moons…” Steven finished grimly, having just read over thesame information in the journal and reeling at its implications.

“And that’s not all…” Dipper practically muttered, ignoringthe looks of deep worry and sympathy the pair was giving him as he looked tohis feet instead. “If we can’t find a cure before I… I fully transform… then…then there won’t be any fixing this at all… I’ll be a werewolf… f-forever…”

“Oh, Dipper…” Mabel gasped softly, already on her feet andrunning over to pull him into a tight embrace. The thought that he might onlyget to be himself as opposed to a vicious, wild monster few weeks was nearlyenough to drive Dipper to the same tears that Mabel had already started toshed, but he refused to let them come, especially in front of her. So instead,he decided to put his own crippling fear and dread for now, if only to keep herat ease over what was, by all accounts, an incredibly terrifying, heartbreakingsituation.

“I-its ok,” Dipper said, taking in a deep breath as hegently pulled away from Mabel. “Like I said, we’re going to find a cure, nomatter how hard it might be. And besides,” his reassuring smile faltered a bitas he felt the tip of his tail absently curl around his ankle. “W-we still havea few days before… y-you know. That’s plenty of time to figure something out.”

“You know what? You’re right, Dipper!” Steven chimed in withnewfound enthusiasm. “After all, we’ve made it through stuff just as bad asthis before, so we’re bound to find a way through this!”

“B-but what if we don’t?”Mabel asked, still rather distraught as she looked to Dipper fretfully. “Whatif we aren’t fast enough and you… you really do…?” she trailed off, unable toeven finish the thought.

“I won’t,” Dipper assured, putting a hand on his sister’sshoulder. “I promise, we’ll-” He abruptly cut himself off with a loud, painedgasp, his hands flying to his ears, almost as if he was hearing somethingincredibly loud and he was trying to shield them from it. In reality though, itwas as though his hearing had been stolen from him entirely, replaced withnothing more than a shrill ringing that blocked out Steven and Mabel’s sharedcalls of concern.

“Dipper!” Mabel shouted, grabbing him by his shoulderstightly as he began to stumble backwards, though she didn’t let him fall. “Dipper,what’s wrong?!”

Of course, Dipper wasn’t able to hear her at all, and evenif he had heard her, he would have paid her no mind amidst unbearable burningsensation his ears were currently enduring. But that wasn’t all; a splittingpain had also emerged near the crown of his head, one that felt very similar towhat he had felt when his tail first appeared. Mabel still held him upright,with Steven rushing to help, as he a sharp scream of agony, one that almostsounded a bit like a howl, tore from his throat, one that died out just asgradually as the pain did. The pair noticed that he was visibly panting, muchlike a dog would, tongue stuck out and all as he shuddered into silence, hisclosed eyes finally opening as looked to them, clearly distressed. He noticedthat Steven was saying something to him, saw his mouth move, but all he couldhear was muffled, undiscernible mumblings, almost as if something was stillcovering his ears, even though his hands weren’t anymore.

“W-what?” Dipper asked, still shaken as he found he wasbarely even able to hear his own voice. “Steven, what did you-”

“Ohhhhh!” Mabel exclaimed in understanding, and it was loudenough for him to mostly hear it. He didn’t catch what she said next, but shedid make sure to clarify it for him as she pointed to his ears. Or at least,where they had been. As Dipper reached up to touch them, he let out a gasp ofalarm, finding that he couldn’t feel them out at all; instead, the only thinghis fingers were skimming was hair, or rather fur, short, coarse, and rough, and thankfully just the right shadeof brown to blend in with his hair, but still fur nonetheless. Frighteninglyenough, the fur seemed to spread down past where his ears used to be, all theway down to his neck, which it had covered the back of completely. And whilethere would be plenty of time for him to panic over that later, Dipper had another,much more prominent concern at the moment.

“M-my ears!” he exclaimed, distraught as he still tried tofeel them beyond the layer of fur. “What happened to-”

He cut himself off as Mabel suddenly took his hat off,looking up at the top of his head in surprise for a moment before giving him aknowing look. “You’re turning into a werewolf, dummy,” she remarked, and thistime he was able to hear her completely clearly. “What do you think happened tothem?”

“No…” Dipper gasped once more, not even needing to feel hisnew ears as they flatten themselves against his head in tune with his emotions.All the same, he rushed over to the mirror to confirm that, sure enough, thathis now wolf-like ears were now positioned at the sides of his scalp, standingupright, fur-covered, and pointed amidst the rest of his hair. Steven and Mabeljoined him over at the mirror a moment later, both of them putting a hand onhis shoulder as a sign of what little comfort they were really able to give,something that Dipper quickly shook off as he remembered his earlier resolve. “O-ok,so… that was kind of unexpected, but its fine! We still have plenty of timeleft to find a cure.”

“How can you be so sure?” Mabel asked anxiously as sheglanced between his ears and his tail. “At this rate, by the end of today youcould have a muzzle and be walking on all fours! Look,” she paused, looking tothe ground apprehensively as she tried her best to keep calm. “I know you don’twant to, but… maybe it’s time we talk to Grunkle Ford about this, or the Gems.This… doesn’t seem like the sorta thing we should be taking our chances with,especially if you could end up staying a-a werewolf for… forever…”

“Mabel, I already told you,” Dipper began, exasperated. “Wecan figure this out on our own. Besides, if there’s nothing about a curewritten in the journal, then chances are Great Uncle Ford still doesn’t knowhow to fix this.”

“But maybe he could at least help somehow?” Steven suggestedearnestly.

“We don’t need help!”Dipper protested, his ears and tail both twitching in frustration as he turnedaway bitterly.

“But Dipper, you could-” Mabel’s attempt at reasoning withher brother was cut off as he let out a low, angry growl, his shoulders hitchedand his ears pinned all the way back. She froze, startled as he snapped a glareover his shoulder at her, his eyes strangely distant and his pupils much too largeas he continued snarling, not even stopping as he turned around to face herfully. “D-Dipper?” Mabel asked nervously, her eyes wide as she took a smallstep back, one that he countered by stepping forward aggressively until he wasessentially right up in her face, his teeth still bared as he glared at herrelentlessly. “Dipper!” she shouted, more boldly this time as she forced herfear away. “Back off!”

Without any warning, she shoved him, pushing him away fromher and landing him on the ground hard. Mabel and Steven both were still onedge as they kept their distance from Dipper, who was seemingly in the midst ofreturning to his right mind after his bout of instinctual aggression. “M-Mabel?”he asked with concern as he met her still quite frightened gaze. “What just…?”he trailed off as he put the pieces of what he had just missed together tocreate a picture that filled him with both terror and regret. “Oh no…” Heslowly stood, his tail and ears drooping as he took a small, apologetic step towardshis sister. “Mabel, I’m sorry. I-I didn’t-”

“You know what? Fine,” Mabel sighed in acceptance, hurriedlybrushing her approaching tears away as she met his gaze squarely and almostcoldly. “If you don’t want any help, then that’s ok with me. I’m totally finewith not helping you at all if you’re gonna just growl at me for nothing!”

“Mabel, n-no, I-”

“You know, I bet you’ll be wishing you just let someone helpyou when you’re a wolf basically all the time!” Mabel finished as she stormedout of the attic, visibly upset and clearly not willing to listen to anything herbrother had to say. Steven hurried after her, thinking that Dipper wasn’t toofar behind, but instead he simply remained where he was, stunned and ashamed bywhat he had unknowingly done. Absently, he reached up and gently touched theside of one of his new wolfish ears, his heart sinking as he realized that thiswas only going to get worse before it got better, on all levels. The physicaltransformation would continue, and in time, he’d likely gain, among other newfeatures, sharp claws deadly teeth, both things that could do so much harm ifhe wasn’t careful. But how could he really be careful when his mental stabilityand human tendencies already seemed to be wavering into a feral, animalistic attitudethat he had no control over whatsoever? Growling at Mabel was one thing, butwhat it he actually did end up hurting her somehow, on more than just anemotional level? What if, once he turned full werewolf, he lost all sanity to awild lust for blood and, not having the slightest clue about what he was doing,actually ended up-

Dipper was quick to shake such a dark thought out of hismind. Of course he wasn’t going to end up hurting Mabel, he never would, atleast not intentionally. All he really had to do was make sure he could findthat elusive, unknown cure to his condition long before such a thing could evenhappen. However, with his transformation already steadily progressing and hishumanity already starting to fade from the inside out, he knew that findingthat cure would be a race against time if there ever was one.

(So yeah, like I said this one isn’t done but eh I capped it off at a place that would want you leaving more, which is cool. Still, I’m a huge sucker for slow transformation stories, so writing this got me back to my roots (I used to write a LOT of slow/painful transformation scenarios in my Zelda stories) So now that its done I only have like one more of these angst prompts to top off and then its time for The Return! Woo!)

#jen writes #universe falls #unfinished #drabble prompts #requests

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hey-there-buddy-pal · 7 years

Note

Okay imagine sf!pap, ut!sans, uf!sans, and us!pap all get a secret admirer/love letter! Okay so after their initial reaction then imagine they find out that iT'S FROM THEIR CRUSH OMG! You know those boys would be glowing with blushes. lmao~

UT!Sans: When he firsts finds the note, it doesn’t occur to him that it could be from you. And since you’re the only one he currently has eyes for, he’s more worried about who he’s going to have to let down gently. He’s flattered and all, but he’s not interested in anyone. Except for you of course. He starts thinking about who might have sent him the note. And, he can’t really think of anyone who would go so far. Except maybe… you? So he studies the note closely, and oh my god that is your handwriting. And it actually kind of smells like your perfume. And oh my god you sent him that note. He blushes without meaning to, and the dorkiest grin you’ve ever seen spread across his face. At least now he knows that you have feelings for him too. And even though he’s not the type to go full blown romantic and take you on an amazing and expensive night out, he plans a sweet date that he asks you out on.

UF!Sans: His first thought is shit. Just what the fuck has he gotten himself into? Did he give someone false hopes on a romantic relationship with him? Do they know what they’d be walking into if they chose to date him? He’s doing them a favor by just ignoring this, and going to sleep to avoid this situation. Right? But, after studying it, he starts to recognize the handwriting. And this isn’t as lovey dovey stupid as he first thought, it’s actually pretty sweet. They obviously know a lot about him, which narrows down the search a little. Actually, the only one he can think of is you… As soon as he realizes this he’s a blushing mess. He’s lucky that he locked himself away in his room, he can’t let anyone see him like this. All smiley and red faced, reading and re-reading the note over and over again. Next time he sees you, he puts on a confident face and saunters over to you, making you back up against the closest wall. He leans in real close, face almost close enough that it should count as a kiss. Then he holds up his hand, holding your letter between the two of you-

‘’This belong to you, sweetheart?’’

US!Papyrus: He knows it’s from you, but he doesn’t take it seriously. It’s probably just another prank. A stupid one, but still just a prank. And this is what he believes until the next time he sees you. You keep eyeing him expectantly, close to scared. He starts to realize that maybe, just maybe, you weren’t joking around. And he suddenly feels so bad, because here you go pouring your heart out in a letter to him, and he completely ignores it. He’s so embarrassed and flustered, that he kind of just slowly leaves to be on his own and sort through what happened. When he feels secure enough in the situation, he finds you.

‘’Listen kid, sorry about not thanking you for the note. How about we go out this weekend and I’ll make it up to you’’

Yeah, he’s taking you to Muffet’s. At least he’s buying the drinks and food.

SF!Papyrus: Oh my god. He is so confused. Who would send this to him? He wants it to be you, he desperately wants it to be you. But he can’t let himself believe that. He scans the message anyway, looking for clues. Every time he finds something that points towards it being you, a voice in his head says no, they’re not interested in you like that. He’s second guessing himself so much, and eventually he breaks. He texts you, asking if it’s you. When you confirms he’s so relieved and happy and almost giddy. He tells you that he likes you too, a lot. And then sets up a date for you two. He meant to stop texting you after that, but he honestly doesn’t want to stop talking. And he’s so happy that he basically texts you everyday until the weekend. When the date comes, you’re both so comfortable in the situation that it’s not awkward at all. Only sweet and romantic and a tad bit nervous. You’re like two high schoolers with a crush, it’s adorable.

#undertale #underswap #underfell #swapfell #sans #papyrus #ut!sans #uf!sans #us!papyrus #sf!papyrus #ask #headcanon #crush

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dragonfics · 6 years

Text

Kitchen Nightmares

Prompt: Cooking Together

Ship: Edgelord Supreme (UF Papyrus/SF Sans)

AU: Office

__________________________________________________

The final drabble one-shot for my 200 follower milestone! (It’s almost time for the next one >_< I’m terrible). Only 3 months late. I accept my mediocrity when it comes to sticking to a schedule. Late or not--I’m very pleased I managed to get through these. Looking forward to the next milestone (which is coming up very soon).

This one is for @sansy-fresh, who asked for fluff--and I almost succeeded, but there’s a hint of angst in here. More hurt/comfort than anything. And I apologise for the title. It’s highly insensitive. Lol.

Warnings: Eating disorder, skipping meals

~Below the cut~

He was shaking again.

Razz noticed it the moment he stepped out of his office. Edge was hunched over at his desk, his fingers trembling above his keyboard. He looked tired too, the magic that flushed his joints and face paler than normal.

Razz considered him with a heavy soul, and silently cursed him—him, and his poor habits (and Razz’s own inability to leave the problem alone). Edge flinched when he approached, looking up at him with quick composure. “Yes, sir?” he asked, with forced cordiality.

Razz eyed the spreadsheets stacked on Edge’s desk and the documents open on his computer screen. Edge was a hard worker. He always had been. And sometimes… he worked a little too hard. He was often at his desk when Razz left in the evenings—long after everyone else had gone home. And in the mornings, he was the first one here.

“Do I pay you enough, Edge?” Razz asked, sitting on the corner of Edge’s desk.

Edge blinked at him, taken off guard. “I—yes?”

Razz lifted a brow bone. “So you would turn down a raise if I offered you one?”

Suspicion crept across Edge’s expression. “What is this about? Boss.” He spoke with stiff politeness, the placid look on his face more unsettling than anger would have been.

“Well, clearly,” Razz said, touching the back of Edge’s hand to stop it from shaking. “I’m not paying you enough to afford breakfast.” Edge stared straight ahead, rigidly still. Sighing, Razz gave Edge’s shoulder an affectionate squeeze. “Dinner at my place, tonight. I’m making quiche.”

“Do I have a choice?” Edge asked, quietly.

Razz considered. “No.”

“Then I’m cooking,” Edge replied, before ducking his head again and returning to his work.

Razz snorted and rolled his eyes. “As you command, love.”

Edge was late, but Razz didn’t begin preparing dinner until he arrived. Edge rolled his eye-lights when Razz opened the front door, foregoing the greetings and marching straight to the kitchen. “I see good manners are just a work formality to you,” Razz said, following him.

“They’re only a necessity when in polite company,” Edge replied, coldly.

Razz’s mouth curled into a smile. Edge had his back to him, his shoulders tensed as he studied the ingredients Razz had set out on the countertop. “This is new,” he commented, picking up a tub of feta cheese.

“New brand,” Razz told him. When Edge looked dubious, Razz scooped out a bit on his finger and tasted it. “It’s good. Care to try?”

“I’d prefer to put it in the quiche first,” Edge said, dryly, but Razz could see the slight sag of relief in his shoulders. He waited patiently while Edge examined the rest of the ingredients. When he’d finished, he turned to Razz, resolved. “Shall we begin, then?”

“If you’re satisfied,” Razz said. Edge grunted and gathered the mixing bowl and pie dish from the cupboard. He was familiar with Razz’s kitchen at this stage. Sometimes, Razz felt as if he lived here.

Razz worked on the crust while Edge made the filling. They didn’t speak to each other; the silence was comfortable. Razz caught Edge eyeing him from time-to-time, watching the dish closely as he spread the ingredients across the base. He’d made a joke once about poisoning the food—Edge hadn’t taken it well, and it had been impossible to get him to eat that night. Razz didn’t make those jokes anymore.

When the quiche was in the oven, Razz sat down, dusting his hands on his apron. Edge stood stiffly by the oven, hands twisted behind his back. “Why don’t you sit down, love?” Razz asked gently.

“I’ve been sitting down all day,” Edge told him without looking around.

Razz lifted a brow bone. “Touché. Though I would prefer to see you relax every once in a while.”

“I am relaxed,” Edge said, tightly. Razz smiled somberly. In the past, he might have become frustrated with Edge for being stubborn. He knew better now. Getting angry with him only pushed him further into his shell. So, reluctantly, he conceded, and Edge remained in front of the oven, standing like a military officer awaiting command (or gunfire).

Edge waited for Razz to take the first bite before tentatively scooping a piece of quiche onto his fork. He chewed slowly and deliberately, his expression tight and strained. “Something to drink?” Razz asked, trying to keep the tension from his voice. “Wine? Champagne?”

“Champagne is just sparkling wine,” Edge said, flatly.

“Is that a no?”

Edge stared at his plate. “Wine. Please. Red, if you have it.”

After a glass, some of the tension left Edge, and he managed a few more bites. Razz served himself a second portion when he’d finished, ignoring the heavy, well-fed feeling in his soul. He could manage another helping, if it put Edge at ease.

He looked up when Edge’s knife and fork clattered against his plate—still half-full. “Had enough?” he asked. Edge just stared at him solemnly, and Razz stood, collecting his plate. He squeezed Edge’s shoulder—an unspoken I’m proud of you. Edge was stiff again, his features taut.

“Do you need to stay the night, precious?” Razz asked once the dishes were clean. He took Edge’s hand and stroked his carpals. Edge drew it away and pulled his coat off the back of his chair, heading for the door.

“You don’t have to take care of me,” he said, quietly.

A glimmer of frustration built, but Razz fought it back, sighing deeply and following Edge. “I like taking care of you,” he said. “I like… I like you.” They’d been doing this for months, but the confession carried weight. Razz swallowed and took Edge’s hand again, holding it between both of his own. “Stay? For me.”

Edge studied him, expressionless. Razz remembered the day he’d joined the firm. He’d wondered how one person could carry so much surly weight in their eyes. He still longed to see Edge smile more often.

“Fine,” Edge said, at last. “But no wandering hands.”

Razz smiled, relieved—if not surprised—at Edge’s acceptance. “I wouldn’t dare.”

Razz climbed into bed next to Edge, who was lying with his back to him. He inched close to him—close enough to touch—but kept his hands to himself, true to his word. “You’re coming over for dinner again tomorrow,” he told Edge.

“Is that an order, boss?” Edge asked, tilting his head.

“Yes.”

There it was. The faintest smile. “Very well.” He took Razz’s hands and drew them around himself, settling into his arms. “I wasn’t serious, you know. Feel free to put your hands where you like.”

Razz’s soul swelled, warm and comfortable. He rested his head against the back of Edge’s neck, inhaling. “As you command, precious.”

#200 follower milestone #Edgelord Supreme #Fontcest #uf papyrus #sf sans #my writing #fluff #angst #eating disorders

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