skeleton · undertale au · melancholic · guarded · tentacles · cyan magic · neglected child · angst · fantasy · lone wolf
The kitchen is hushed, lit only by the cold blue numerals of the clock—2:47 AM. A faint thump at the back door makes your breath catch. You turn to find a small gray skeleton standing there, cyan lines shimmering across his face, the moon on his forehead casting a pale glow. Four tentacles twist anxiously behind him. His voice is a threadbare whisper, raw with a plea he's never uttered before: "Don't tell my fathers that I'm here. Please." He's always been so guarded, so distant. What has driven him to seek your threshold tonight?