Fonttale

Chapter One: Unseen and Unheard

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hey everyone, just letting you know that if you see a large space between paragraphs that means the paragraph in the middle is a memory a character is having. Also there's NO FONTCEST ANYWHERE BUT IN THE OPTIONAL FOURTEENTH CHAPTER and to see it apparently you have to follow me on Wattpad first for some reason.

Also I don't own Undertale or anything affiliated with it. That's all Toby Fox.

"If you make yourself a problem, someone will eventually solve you."

Papyrus repeated the phrase in his head over and over again, until the words became nonsense and the nonsense became a blur that overwhelmed any and all of his other thoughts.

Gripping the arm rest of the couch until his arm shook, he glared at the television screen; struggling to keep his breathing at a slow and steady pace and his rage under control.

Mettaton was at it again. He had a habit of taking short random intermissions between his singing and dancing to remind everyone of how great he was. A habit Papyrus was having more and more trouble tolerating as the years went by.

As Mettaton crowed and pranced around the stage like a peacock, the crowd went wild. Hands, claws, tentacles, and wings flew up into the air as the crowd roared with applause; the cheering rising to an almost deafening crescendo almost blocking out Mettaton's voice.

Almost.

Mettaton always seemed to find a way to be louder than everyone else. No matter how loud the applause, his voice was never drowned out; much to Papyrus's disappointment. After all, the most important and best part of the show was not the dancing or singing, but the self-loving speeches made between them. At least that's what everyone else thought...everyone but Papyrus.

Papyrus knew the truth. He knew exactly what Mettaton was. A pathetic and narcissistic waste of metal, magic, and life. If there was ever a time when Mettaton once cared about the music or joy of others, that time had long since passed. Now he was nothing but an attention whore to the fullest degree with no love for anyone but himself. Strutting and flirting on the stage like a common stripper, scooping up praise like it were gold.

"Disgusting," muttered Papyrus, shaking his head."Absolutely revolting."

Sighing, the young skeleton switched off the television and sat in silence for a moment in the dark.

The rage was gone, replaced with a cold despair he knew all too well, that settled in his ribcage and refused to leave.

He hated nights like this. When all was quiet and there was absolutely nothing he had to do.

The house was already clean, and his side of the fridge was already packed with inedible spaghetti to the point where storing more was impossible. The trash receptacle was already taken out and his room was spotless as always.

"I suppose I'll go see Flowey then," said Papyrus to no one.

He glanced upstairs towards San's room before heading out the door into the night air.

His brother had long since gone to his room to sleep.

Sleep well Brother...

The snow crunched under Papyrus's boots as he headed toward the mysterious door that opened for no one but him...and humans apparently.

Papyrus grinned as he remembered the human with the glasses and notebook he had met while going to meet with Flowey. It was still difficult for Papyrus to tell which humans were male and female, but he assumed that one was female due to the dress it wore and the braids it had tied with ribbons.