what headcanons do you have for Aimee and Angelo's kids?
I have a few, though I’ll probably come up with more when I design them.
Their oldest child, Hunni, was born the year they got married, when they were 22 (about five years after B2nd). Her brother, Gelato, is five years younger than her.
As Angelo’s sister has a different surname, and Aimee’s siblings both died, their children took both their last names so neither would die out.
Hunni resembles Angelo more, and Gelato resembles Aimee. Both of them are quite tall though, and surpass Aimee by the time they’re in their teens, which Angelo finds amusing
Hunni is really competitive, which definitely came from watching her parents, and tries to channel that competitiveness in training with her mother (Angelo retired from fighting after a serious injury). She’s short sighted, so can’t fire a gun as well as Aimee or Gelato, so she prefers to help Angelo out instead. She likes to draw a lot as well.
Gelato likes spending a lot of time in Florem with Divinia, Angelo and Aimee’s teacher, reading her books. He gets a little overwhelmed by his family being quite aggressively confident, so they let him sit out of their board games nights and spars in favour of a more quiet environment.
Even though neither of them are very good at it, they both pick fights a lot to defend the other
a vamp thats fought for human rights (and legalisation of cannabis) since they can remember, a feminist, tells a lot of puns, rly passionate abt things they love (which includes mc), cannot wink and always closes both eyes, has a vampire cat and loves it bc they will never have to part, likes to leave cute lil notes around for mc to find "today ur eyes are shining brighter than usual", "your presence makes me want to get my shit together)
So, trying to figure out where exactly the skeleton brothers are from is an exercise in what seems to be futility. However, there’s one thing I haven’t seen analyzed much. And that’s Papyrus’ username. I don’t think I need to explain it, but, normally when someone ends their username with two numbers, it means that they are using the year of their birth as shorthand to make the name unique and theirs.
What ‘95′ could Papyrus be referring to, though … ? We know Chara’s fall takes place in 201X, and that Undertale takes place in the somewhat distant future. Unfortunately, we only get one reference that could imply how much time has passed.
So let’s go with that. 100 years, putting us somewhere in the ballpark of 211X. That means that Papyrus’ birthday is either 2095 or 1995. Given this context, the easiest date to jump to is 2095. But … I’m not so sure anymore. Papyrus and Sans seem to be somehow related to Wingdin. Gaster. Father or grandfather, the fact that both brothers have blasters speaks of a connection with him.
But, moving on … Alphys, the first Royal Scientist since Gaster, made it her mission to unlock the power of the SOUL using the human SOULs and DT. And it apparently took Asgore a very long time to replace Gaster in the end. So that puts Gaster, and therefore Papyrus’ (and sans’) birthdates back. It seems 1995 is the most recent date that works.
Sans And Chara
Toby has gone on record talking about how, in a japanese translation, the word used for sans should be ‘older brother.’ During 201X, Papyrus will be … 15/24 years old, and Sans will be older. Sans, with his mysterious badge, secret lab and photo albums full of people we do not know, seems to have very likely been an adult, to have worked in an offical capacity. And his close (if secret) association with Alphys, and his love of science fiction (especially when it’s real) makes it just as likely that he worked with Gaster as a scientist, more or less.
That means that, in 201X, when Chara falls, Sans will be employed (indirectly) by the royal family. It seems startlingly likely that Chara could have met him. What would their relationship be like? Well … Let me draw up what I think like this. Sans has a whole system of childish code phrases to use when interacting with a friendly time traveler. He has a diverse and varied knoweldge of surface foods despite having never been there himself.
He likes bad jokes, to the point that he exalts those who make them …
… And the narration, which narrachara says is all Chara, is completely full of bad jokes.
And, lest we forget, Chara is the only main character who is established to draw …
… And what do we find in Sans’ lab?
While we’re here, there are a few other links I would like to draw as well. We know Sans hates making promises, but the way he talks about the one to Toriel seems to imply that he HAS made one before, to another person like Toriel. (who shares Chara’s pun passion and ‘greetings’) And that he doesn’t like making promises because, like he says at the end of the kill-all, he ends up breaking them. It seems to me like he made a promise to Chara a long time ago.
But the way he says that a person who likes bad jokes HAS an integrity you can’t say no to tells me he never felt that Chara let him down, or he would have revised that opinion. As far as he knows, everyone he knows who likes bad jokes has been excellent. So, Chara didn’t ‘betray’ him and make him regret his promise that way.
It seems very likely to me that Sans made a promise to Chara. And Sans, in the end, failed them.
If you accept that Chara names the songs in the Soundtrack …
Look at the period in that song title. Undertale’s soundtrack is normally very sparse with punctuation, and the other themes that have a character name in it, Undyne, Alphys and ASGORE, lack the period. It creates the impression that, after speaking their name, the writer of the Soundtrack falls into flat, deliberate silence, or that they spit the name out like a bullet.
I bet Sans knew Chara, that they were friends. That Sans broke a promise. And I bet Chara is still sore.
y'know with the papyton ship I think my biggest thing about it kinda is the over protective Sans, like full on threatening and flipping Mettaton away with magic kinda dealio.
Like Sans occasionally works at Mettaton’s resort, his main concern would be that Mettaton would be pity dating Papyrus but if he just watched them interact and hear how Papyrus gushed about him he’d lose that worry.
I mean in the beginning I can see it if Mettaton got too flirty
But I feel like they’d be more chill with eachother if anything
like “hey man Paps is stoked about this date he’s been planning it non stop, he’s got an entire tour of snowdin planned to do, so you two have an ‘ice’ time okay?”
There were quite a few things in which Marinette could
feel some level of justification for when it came to the ability to be mad at
She could not see him whenever she wanted in the way she
wanted. Only Ladybug had the ability to
ring him up whenever and for whatever reason.
However, Ladybug had no reason to call up Marinette’s…whatever he was to
her right now. But Marinette knew that
Chat Noir was elusive and had pretty much signed up for that when they had
decided to be crushingly honest.
He made a grotesque amount of puns about almost anything
and everything. He made puns on cats,
obviously, but could make plays on words concerning months, movies, days,
music, science, and somehow even clothing!
He somehow had a horrifying amount of fashion related puns and seemed to
take great pride in tainting her passion with puns. However, puns were truly a minor evil and she
could never get more than fairly annoyed with him on their account.
There were other reasons.
Marinette had fashioned an excuse for almost every single one.
“Don’t you Marinette
me, Chat Noir.”
“I’m fine! No
blood, no scratch, not even a scar! Just
sit down and we’ll talk about this like—”
“Talk?” Marinette asked.
A sharp and almost barking laugh escaped her when she turned to him, a
feeling of completely justified rage emanating from her very being. “You mean talk about how this akuma held a
knife to the only part of your unarmored body that could make a difference
between your life and death? Or do you
want to talk like how when we talked last week?
That talk where I specifically
told you to just not? I thought it was
pretty clear then, but I’ll repeat it now:
Don’t you freaking try to die on me, you stupid cat!”
“You make it sound like it’s an actual choice I make,”
Chat returned, his brows slanted in her direction. Oh, now he
was getting angry?
“It is a choice
you make, Chat!” she stressed. “And it’s
that same choice that led you to being held captive by an akuma and used as freaking bait by your neck—!”
“That happens almost every time we fight them
nowadays! Ladybug needs the time to
figure out how to use her Lucky Charm before we can set things right,” he
stated, almost as if he were explaining things to someone who simply did not understand the process. He inhaled through his nose and exhaled
through his mouth in a sharp puff of air.
“She’s the strategist. I’m the
sword, shield, and distraction so she can finish the fight and put things back
to normal. We can’t afford to have her
hurt. We’re partners and that’s how it’s
“But when you do stupid
stunts like this last time, it just seems like that partnership needs to
change or something,” Marinette said,
her tone vehement. She heard Chat’s
intake of air, but quickly plowed through.
“You said you’re the sword, shield, and
distraction and that Ladybug is the strategist, but why can’t she be your
shield, too? What good is she if she
can’t protect what’s truly important?”
“Ladybug does a great deal of good for Paris and protects
it with everything she has,” Chat argued, his green eyes glinting with an almost
tangible anger. “She risks everything—”
Marinette did not want to hear any more. No praises about the alter ego who was too
good for this world. No Chat getting
angry on the behalf of one who could not do him such a courtesy as keeping him
safe for those who would wait at home for him.
And she especially did not want to run the risk of her
losing him because of her own self-loathing.
She reached forward with tense fingers and drew him
closer, landing her lips on her most important person in an almost desperate
plea to make him stop. To demand his
silence for a few moments.
She got his silence and more.
That brief moment when their lips touched stopped him
cold. She could feel his lips tense
beneath hers and his swallow from beneath the resting palms of her hands. Her nose brushed against his mask and it
reflected the temperate climate of the night air.
They parted, but she refused to let him leave her
“Ladybug can risk everything she owns,” she uttered
lowly. “But you aren’t hers to risk.”
Her eyes opened slowly (when had she shut them?) and
stared at the boy so close to her. She
was serious. She hoped the message would
come through. Ladybug had the back of
Paris and her partner, but she was in possession of neither to risk. Paris belonged to her people and Chat…
Well. He was with
Marinette of his own volition. She felt
his hands settle around the tops of her arms, close to her shoulders. He neither pulled her closer or pushed her
away. He simply held her.
“Princess, I risk myself for Paris. For the people who care about me like you and
Ladybug,” he said. Indignation rose
within her, but he continued. “But if
doing that is hurting more than helping, I’ll try to be more careful about it,
The indignation within her was soothed slightly. She could not and would not ask him to
stop. For her, there could be no other
Chat Noir. His quasihabilitual comings
and goings. His puns. His tendencies to run into danger in order to
be a sword, shield, or distraction. These
were parts of who he was.
But he was promising to be more careful for her
sake. It was enough for now. She nodded.
“Okay,” he murmured, using his hands to pull her
forward. She let herself be guided by
deceptively gentle hands and allowed her hands to shift ever so slightly so as
to play with the back of his hair. “And
“Don’t blame Ladybug.
She really does a lot for this city.”
Marinette searched his expression. Tense.
Waiting. Slightly expectant. It hit her suddenly and without much
preamble. Her opinion of Ladybug
mattered to him just as her opinion of him did.
He would defend his partner even against her, even when his body language
said all he wanted to do was pull her just that much closer. She breathed.
She really did love this cat. “Okay.”
He pulled her back in for another kiss. This one much sweeter than the last.
(AN: I’M SO FUCKING LATE OMG SORRY!!!! Anyway,
Baz is very soft and insecure in this one. It might seem a bit out of
character sometimes, but I just wanted to try it. Also, Simon is a
punk somehow, but still awkward.)
I try to go to the library as often as
I can. Which is way to often (that’s what Agatha says). But I feel
safe when I’m there. My anxiety is always smaller after I’ve been
Today I can hardly think about
anything else. I’ve been in this classroom for too long, the air is
stuffy and my butt hurts. I can feel people staring at me from behind
and just hope that they’ll not try to kick my ass after this
period. I’ve had enough of that yesterday.
the teacher finally ends the class, I basically storm out of the
room. Having long legs might be helpful, but there’s no better way
to become a fast runner than being half-Egyptian and
Trust me, running is going to be one of the first things you’ll
learn after starting school.
The bus ride is short and quiet. I
look out of the window, counting every dog we pass. When I step out
of the bus, I’ve counted 9 dogs. It makes me a bit sad, considering
my personal record is 26.
inhale deeply as I enter the library. Excitement fills me while I
walk towards the little corner in which I always sit until the day
outside gets dim and I have to go home. I have a little game where I
try to finish a book before I have to leave. Once, on a Saturday, I
sat here for 7 hours. The only flaw in this game is that I can’t
cry when I’m finishing a book. It would make me seem like an even
bigger geek, and believe me when I say that I’m already pretty far
aren’t many people in the library today. Normally, this would be
the perfect atmosphere to start a book, but it seems to be one of
these days where I can’t decide what to read. Nothing feels right.
I sigh, sitting down in the green armchair, opening a book I know
will be good, but the tingling I usually feel when starting a new
book is missing.
Half an hour has passed and I’m not
even halfway through the book I’ve picked. But that isn’t what
makes me look up. Someone entered the library and I can tell that
they’ve never been to one before. They are ruffling around, pulling
books out of shelves and accidentally dropping things. I can’t even
see them yet, but as I hear someone stumbling over a pile of books, I
roll my eyes, deciding I don’t even want to see them. But as
always, life is not on my side.
haven’t even focused on the words on the page again, when someone
walks right into the gap between the two rows of shelves where I’m
sitting. I snap my head up, ready to glare at the person, but as soon
as I lay my eyes on them, my mouth goes slack.
It’s a boy. No, that’s not right,
it’s the sun in person. If the sun had a lip ring and wore shaggy
jeans and Doc Martens.
hair is spun gold and his skin is caramel, with freckles and moles
dotted on it like tiny sprinkles of chocolate.
must be staring at him with eyes like saucers, but he doesn’t even
notice me. Currently, he’s pulling a book out of a shelve, just to
put it back again. In the wrong spot. I frown, looking down on my
book again because I don’t want to be caught ogling this guy
openly. Still, I sneak another glance at him. He’s studying the
back of Hamlet, looking slightly confused. Then, he puts it into an
empty spot, between two books by Charles Dickens.
I don’t know what’s happening
until I’m standing right next to him, clearing my throat.
clears his throat behind me, and I try not to jump. When I turn
around, I am confronted with the cutest dude I’ve ever seen. He’s
wearing a pastel blue shirt, light blue jeans and white converse. His
black hair is put up in a top knot and I nearly miss the blush under
his olive skin.
“Uh, yeah?” I stutter, running a
hand through my curls.
eyes are darting around, like he doesn’t know where to look.
Finally, his gaze fixes somewhere over my shoulder.
doesn’t belong there.” he mumbles, and gestures towards the
bookshelf next to us.
I just stare at him, my brain working
harder than ever. What is he talking about?!
The boy bites his lip and I am very
proud of my self-control, because all I want to do is to kiss those
pink lips right now.
“The book. Hamlet. It’s supposed
to stand there next to the other books by Shakespeare.”
“I didn’t know!” I say, trying
very hard not to sound like an absolute imbecile.
brows are pressing together when he looks up at me. The only thing I
realise is the extraordinary shade of grey in his eyes.
you ever been to a library before?” he asks.
The boy’s cheeks flush beautifully
and I have to tear my gaze away from his face before I do something
silly. Like kissing that mole on his right cheek.
be honest, no, not really.” he confesses, fiddling with the hem of
his Nirvana shirt. There’s something about this guy that makes my
insides flutter, but he looks very straight and I’m not known to
flirt with boys as cute as him. Actually, I’m known to not ever
I nod, and after that we spend talking
several more minutes about how to behave in a library. When I’m
halfway through lecturing him how to find the exact book you’re
looking for, his hand brushes against mine. It sends something akin
to a shock through my body and I can shut my mouth quickly enough so
that I don’t gasp.
This boy is going to be the death of
I’m not sure how much time I’ve
spend talking to this guy who laughs at my bad puns, talks
passionately about the history of this library and shivers every time
our hands collide.
But I’m very sure that it’s time
to step this up a bit. I really don’t want to leave, not knowing
whether I’ll ever see him again or not. (Because I absolutely want
to see him again.) So I open my mouth before he can start with
another paragraph about the importance of an organised bookshelf.
the way, I’m Simon. Simon Snow.”
He looks surprised for a second, but
composes himself quickly.
“Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch.”
There’s a cheeky flicker in his eyes.
“You’re kidding me, right? This
can’t be anyone’s real name!” I exclaim, watching him grin with
“I’m being perfectly serious. You
can call me Baz though.”
I nod, while trying to straighten my
“Good, your full name would have
been way to long as a contact name. Plus, there’s no way I could
have remember that. I’ve already forgot it. You’ll have to type
it in yourself.” I say, handing him my phone.
blushes furiously, but starts typing anyway. When he looks up at me
again, the smile on his face is shy, but so sweet I feel my heart
begin to swell.
Our fingers touch for a heartbeat when
he gives back my phone, and he reddens even more.
Simon practically beams when I tell
him to call me. There’s a small noise at the back of my throat, but
I keep my mouth shut.
I missed the bus, but I don’t even
mind walking home twenty minutes. Not when I remember every time
Simon glanced at me when he thought I couldn’t see it and how warm
his hand was whenever it touched mine.
He might look like a homeless person
who joins demonstrations every weekend, and for how much I know, he
could be one, but I don’t want to miss this feeling ever again.
It’s way too good to give up just because Simon looks not like any
guy I’ve ever seen.
He might actually like me and hell,
I’m sure I really like him too. I’ve never been more sure of