A Mask Of Scars (Gaster x Reader) (ON HOLD)

Chapter 11 - A Nonsense Substance

You've decided to offer them some privacy not too long ago, retreating to the bathroom (rather sneaking out of the living room while they were having a heartfelt catch-up.)

You weren't going to lie; it was pretty nice seeing them reunite and all, but you couldn't help but feel an ache of longing in your chest accompanied by a bit of jealousy. You wished you and Frisk could be like that, but something inside you said no. That part of you wanted it to be Gaster instead of Frisk. Why Gaster? He annoyed you any chance he got, and the both of you treated this whole fusion problem as an issue. You disregarded it as stress and desperation, dismissing said part of you. However, it still lingered, wheather you liked it or not.

Perhaps it's more than desperation though...more like your soul-

No, that is the most comedically feeble assumption you've made all day. You have more pressing matters to ponder about, rather than some silly speculations about the parasite that loved to bicker on the side of the your head in the form of a mask. All he reminded you of is a tumor, an excruciatingly annoying one at that.

Maybe you should take advantage of this opportunity to snitch on Frisk to Toriel before they could snitch on you. Why you might ask? It was quite convienent that they haven't done it yet, and that their adoptive mother so happened to be cleaning and sorting kitchen tools in the bubbly kitchen area right now, at this exact time. It was also convienent that Sans and Gaster seemed to be close, father and son to be specific. Since Gaster hated Frisk, then surely it would be easier to get Sans on your side.

Why be so ill though? Well, you didn't want to loose the possibly only chance you'll ever stumble upon the possibility of having any sort of friends, and especially interesting ones at that, monsters even. You just didn't want more people to hate and resent you all over some temper Frisk threw. So, before Frisk could make them enfuriated with you, you'd make them disappointed at Frisk by telling the flat out truth. Your slim yet puffy lips curved into an estatic smile at the thought of preventing a disaster and gaining more than just one friend for the first time in your life. Maybe it was just your stress and loneliness talking though.

For the longest time, loneliness has devoured its way into your being, your thoughts, and your soul. Those tedious, lonely hours of wasting away has gotten to your already fragile heart. Honestly, you weren't sure how much longer you would have lasted in that vicious, breath stealing and suffocating cycle of misery and spite. Spite of everyone around you, longing for knowledge, knowledge of what it was like to feel love and compassion. To be able to enjoy the embrace of friends and family. Misery from the lack of proper socialization and relationships, wheather it was friends or family, maybe even love interests.

You would almost do anything to feel loved and escape the hurt that has trapped and stripped you of your tenacity for so long. However, you were still above any extreme means, or physically violent means of gaining such happiness and luxuries.

You flushed the toilet, going along with the idea of pretending to have been using the restroom in case anyone happened to notice your lack of presence in the front room not long after you slipped out and crept up the stairs and into the skelebros' restroom. Your feet lightly padded across the hallway and down the stairs. You grit your teeth as you heard a creak moan from the abused boards of the wooden stairs beneath your feet.

Just as the creaky boards screamed in agony, you felt two pairs of eyes on you.

Gaster and Sans.

"Ah, there you are. I was starting to wonder how you managed to leave the room without us noticing, or where you went for that matter." If Gaster's sockets could narrow down at you further, they would be as he eyed you suspiciously. Unfortunately, his bones were still left with scars from his previous failures and mistakes, ones he would not make again.