katta | they/he | 15 ao3 | 8tracks this is my writing/playlist blog! please like/rb/rec my works if you can! feedback is always, always, ALWAYS appreciated!
remember that, will you? // a frances elsner fanmix
EVERYTHING MUST GO - nero’s day at disneyland // AFTER YOU’VE GONE - bioshock infinite ost // NAILS FOR BREAKFAST, TACKS FOR SNACKS - panic! at the disco // BURNING PILE - mother mother // DOLLHOUSES - alice: madness returns ost // YOU’RE A USELESS CHILD - kikuo ft hatsune miku // CEMENT - nicole dollanganger // OPEN HANDS - ingrid michaelson // LITTLE HANDS - mother mother // SPRAWLING IDIOT EFFIGY - nero’s day at disneyland
2048 - michael cera // LOLLIPOP - MIKA // I'LL FALL - bo en // COLLAR FULL - panic! at the disco // UHOHTROUBLE - michael cera // FAR TOO YOUNG TO DIE - panic! at the disco // I DON'T WANNA KNOW - reoni☆ | れおに // ARMS TONITE - mother mother // GOODBYE TO A WORLD - porter robinson // ON A DAY... - emilie autumn
GERSHY’S KISS - michael cera // I HAVE FRIENDS IN HOLY SPACES - panic! at the disco // HEAVY IN YOUR ARMS - florence and the machine // READY TO LOSE - ingrid michaelson // GHOSTS - nicole dollanganger // NATURAL LIGHT - porter robinson // IF IT DOESN’T HURT - black casino and the ghost // DECEMBER BABY - ingrid michaelson // MY TIME - bo en // OF A THURSDAY - michael cera
for the star who had to move on and his cousin with abandonment issues.
(not a ship mix!)
fanart source: http://www.zerochan.net/1987556
tracklist:
numb - marina and the diamonds || ghosting - mother mother || it’s ok, i wouldn’t remember me either - crywank || everyone is gonna love me now -ingrid michaelson || boats and birds - gregory and the hawk || goodbye to a world - porter robinson || oh what a day - ingrid michaelson || ikanaide (english cover) - jubyphonic
Papyrus wouldn't talk about how he felt if his life depended on it, even though some would argue that it did.
ao3 mirror
please leave a kudos on the ao3 mirror or like/reblog this one if you enjoyed!
pairings: n/a (as of yet ig?)
chapter: 1/?
word count: 1,144
comments: im a fanfic writer whos just starting out so uh. please be easy on me,,? cries everywhere
its kinda just about papyrus HATING HIMSelf nice nice,,, its really character analysis-y and headcanon-y
He didn't have many friends. He tried to make more, but people didn't seem to like him on instinct, like they did his brother -- even if Sans didn't call them all his "friends", he was still more likeable than Papyrus and had more people who considered him their friend -- nor did they seem to warm up to him after talking for a while. Was he too loud? Too excitable? What was wrong with him? Day after day spent alone patrolling Snowdin, one or two people (three, if he was lucky -- his record was six!) greeting him with a halfhearted “hey”, none greeting him by name. Everyone greeting Sans with an enthusiastic “hi, Sans!” “what’s up, Sans?” or something or another. And Papyrus hardly even got a “hello” out of anyone.
He was jealous of his brother. And he hated himself for it. It wasn’t Sans’s fault that he was more popular and likeable; he shouldn’t be jealous. He shouldn’t be. Even if he had a better personality, more friends, more talents. Whatever. It doesn’t matter. He shouldn’t be jealous. He had no right to be. When someone was better than you-- no, better at something than you (he was trying to get better at the whole self-loathing thing)... you shouldn’t be jealous. You should just try harder so you can be just as great as them, right? Right!
...But still, Papyrus only had three people who liked him even remotely -- Sans, Undyne, and Flowey. His brother, his boss (sort of; she was supposed to be training him for the royal guard and just kind of... wasn't?), and a flower. Someone who was obligated to like him, someone who was obligated to at least pretend to like him, and a plant. It was… pitiful, to say the least. But they were good friends, even if Sans didn’t do much and didn’t really share Papyrus’s interests. Even if Undyne was too… intense, would be a good word, he supposed, and didn’t ever hold back. Even if Flowey never really seemed to understand how he was feeling.
He wanted more people to like him. He wanted more friends. He wanted to be loved. How could he get that, though? His personality just didn’t garner love or attention. He was loud, sure, but that didn’t make friends. He had long ago hoped getting a place in the royal guard would help him -- everyone loved the royal guard, right? They were made to protect, and people loved that sense of security. People practically worshippedUndyne, and she was the head. Everyone loved the guard, so if Papyrus was in the guard, people would love him, yes? It seemed logical. But that would never happen if he wasn't being trained. Undyne was putting it off. Procrastinating. She was a good friend, Papyrus kept telling himself, and there must be a reason. She has to have a reason.
Sans told him he was great. He was likeable. He was cool. “The coolest,” he'd say. “The coolest monster in the whole Underground. People would be honored to be your friend.”
Papyrus believed it, most of the time.
Then there were the days he was so unmotivated to leave his room that he had to remind himself that he had to get Sans up, had to keep up with his post in Snowdin, had to get reports to Undyne, had to keep up with his favorite television shows. Small, silly things sometimes got him up, like “if you don’t get up, then Sans will have to deal with that pest of a dog taking all your attacks, and you don’t know if he’d be able to do that because he’s a lazybones and doesn’t know how to properly take them from the dog like you do”. Or the overly upbeat robot on TV that he and so many adored (and once in a while he wondered if Mettaton felt the same as he did; using positivity as a mask -- but that was impossible, right?) putting out a new movie that he just had to see.
But sometimes, getting motivated was harder than other times. Some days, he wanted to sink into the sheets and evaporate. He wanted to stop existing, never have existed, not have anyone miss him if he were gone. Three people missing him was too many -- heck, one was. But he didn’t want to die, persay. Just… not exist, maybe. Never have been born. Not be dead, but not have ever been alive. That sounded about right.
He couldn’t tell anyone. The only person he’d ever told was Flowey, and that was only on one of the really hard days when he needed someone to turn to, and only because he knew Flowey wouldn’t be terribly… empathetic. He couldn’t tell Undyne -- she’d feel terrible -- and if he told Sans, it would break his heart, and he couldn’t do that to him. He just couldn’t. He would feel terrible. Sans had a hard enough time without that. He didn’t want to make it harder for Sans to smile -- he knew he was already having a difficult enough time with that.
Papyrus knew that to stop from the lack of motivation to rise again, he had to stay up. Don’t let himself fall. Don’t lower. Keep moving. Keep going. Don’t stop. He can’t stop. Stopping meant falling -- drowning. In bed, at night, his head swam with those awful thoughts. Thoughts about how he was a worthless little thing -- a burden to those he loved even without telling them how he was feeling. The fact he felt this way was bad enough. It was times like that he just wanted to sink into the sheets and let them engulf him, like when Sans had taught him how to skip rocks and Papyrus’s just kept sinking to the bottom without a single bounce. That’s how that felt. In fact, his days reminded him of rock skipping; the gentletik tik tik on the water when the rock went till it couldn’t anymore. That was him. The skipping rock. And the water below him was filled with giant, scary things with big, sharp teeth and intent to kill.
When he was tired or scared or anxious or sad or angry or god forbid overloading, that was when the tik tik s started to… slow down, he supposed. Except it felt like it was speeding up. So fast he was skidding across the surface of the water. So fast he could cut through the water and slip under at any second. Good feelings sometimes sped it up, too, but in a good way -- in a way that made it bounce further faster instead of skidding. But he could never stop the bouncing or the skidding. If it stopped, he would sink into the water -- sink into the sheets. And then he’d be stuck at the bottom.
