Hi I just found your blog and was wondering do you write for undertale yellow? if not then its ok to ignore and delete this! For some reason my obsession with this game has decided to invade my brain again
If you do then would you mind writing a starlo x sick human (young adult btw) reader? While the reader is in a feverish state they ramble on about how they wish they could redo their first encounter with a monster as they didn't know that the monster didn't mean any harm ( if I remember correctly bullet patterns are a greeting of some sort?) , but since reader thought they were in danger ... things didn't go well for the monster. Since then they had learned that the monsters were kind. Basically the reader has been hiding some regrets and it's only while in a feverish / in and out of consciousness state that they are able to open up about it. Preferably romantic but platonic is fine if that is easier to write.
Anyway thank you and hope you are doing well!
Starlo/Guilty human reader
ᨒ✩₊˚.⋆𓆈𓆣⭐🏜💛𓆙𓆈₊˚.⋆✧ᨒ
The clinic in the Wild East had a particular kind of quiet.
It was the watchful quiet. The kind that hummed faintly with the sounds of medicine bottles, soft footsteps, and the occasional distant cough from behind a curtain.
Starlo sat beside your bed like a guard posted at the edge of a frontier town.
At least, that was the image he wanted to project.
Hat tipped low. Arms folded across his poncho. The sheriff's badge catching the lantern light. A figure of steady confidence keeping vigil through the long desert night.
Inside his head, however, the situation was significantly less heroic.
Okay. The doctor said something about body temperature. Some folks overheat more to speed up the process.
Starlo leaned forward slightly and pressed the back of his gloved hand to your forehead again.
Still warm.
“Looks like the fever’s still puttin’ up a fight there, partner.”
Out loud, his voice remained calm and so very sheriff-like.
Is this normal? How long do fevers last? Should he have brought more blankets? Wait, would that be the opposite of helpful? Maybe fewer blankets? No, the doc said rest. Rest requires blankets. Probably.
You were already wrapped in several layers.
Even now, while sick in the middle of a desert town, you wore thick clothing: a heavy coat, long sleeves, gloves, and boots.
The outfit looked more suitable for Snowdin than the Dunes. He's pretty sure you came from Snowdin.
And, of course, there was the mask.
A dark bandit mask that covered most of your face.
You had explained it once with a casual shrug.
“I liked it, it's ironic.”
Starlo had nodded at the time, as if that made perfect sense.
Internally, he had spent twenty minutes trying to understand what the hell you meant.
You shifted slightly in the bed.
The blankets rustled.
Starlo immediately sat up straighter.
“Easy there,” he said gently. “Doctor says you oughta take things slow till that fever clears.”
Your eyes opened halfway.
They looked glassy.
Unfocused.
You didn’t seem to be fully awake.
Your voice came out soft and uneven.
“I’m sorry, I messed up.”
Starlo blinked.
“Well now,” he said carefully, settling his elbows on the edge of the mattress, “that’s a mighty broad statement there. Care to narrow down the charges?”
Great job, Starlo. Very helpful sheriff dialogue. Ten out of ten.
Your gaze drifted somewhere past him.
“I wish I could just redo it.”
His ears twitched.
Redo what?
Your breathing hitched slightly.
“The first fight.”
Starlo’s posture changed.
Not dramatically.
Just enough that the playful sheriff act loosened a little around the edges.
“You hurt someone?” he asked.
You nodded weakly.
“I thought they were going to hurt me.”
The words slipped out slowly, like they had been buried for a long time.
Starlo listened.
Your voice wavered in the fever haze as the memory surfaced piece by piece.
The glowing bullets.
The panic.
The instinct to defend yourself.
You fought back because you believed your life depended on it.
The guilt in your voice felt heavy enough to settle into the floorboards.
You turned slightly in the bed, clutching the blanket closer.
“I wish I could go back.”
Your breathing trembled.
“Redo it. Understand sooner.”
Starlo lowered his head slightly.
Inside his thoughts, something quiet and thoughtful unfolded.
Why you were always so patient.
Why you never got angry when any of the others were too rough with you, but snapped if anybody so much as shoved Karen too hard.
Why you always tried to step between a fight.
It made horrible, perfect sense.
He opened his mouth to speak.
But then you murmured something else.
Something softer.
Something that made his entire brain short-circuit.
“I wish I wasn't human.”
Starlo froze.
Completely.
His mind emptied like someone had pulled the plug on it.
For several seconds, he simply stared at you.
Human.
The word bounced around his skull.
Human?
Human? human?
As in the kind with the SOULS that break the barrier, human??
The sheriff of the Wild East inhaled sharply.
His chair squeaked as he jolted upright.
He had a hand over his mouth before he could say something stupid, and his other hand inched toward his pistol.
Your breathing returned to being slow and uneven.
Still half asleep.
Still feverish.
Still completely unaware that you had just detonated the largest secret in the Underground directly into his lap.
Starlo slowly lowered his hands.
His brain restarted in a very unhelpful sequence of thoughts.
Okay.
Okay!
A human in the dunes with unassuming monsters.
A human in the clinic with all the sick monsters.
A human on his couch yesterday.
A human for whom he may or may not have been developing extremely embarrassing feelings.
He pressed his fingers against the bridge of his glasses.
This is fine.
This is a normal situation.
Sheriffs deal with this all the time.
Wait, no, they absolutely do not.
He glanced back at you.
You looked small under the blankets.
Tired.
Guilty, even in sleep.
And clearly terrified of what the truth might do if anyone discovered it.
Starlo exhaled slowly.
Then he leaned back in the chair, his hat tipping forward again.
“Alright,” he murmured quietly. “That’ll stay between us.”
He stayed beside your bed the rest of the night, pretending not to stare at the bandit mask and think about the human face hidden underneath.
ᨒ✩₊˚.⋆𓆈𓆣⭐🏜💛𓆙𓆈₊˚.⋆✧ᨒ
The doctor released you once the fever broke.
You returned to your usual routine in the Wild East.
The clothes that made you look different.
The deliberate kindness in every word.
The mask.
Starlo noticed everything.
He wanted to see if anything had changed now that he knew.
But nothing did.
You still helped monsters carry supplies through the market.
You still spoke gently to travelers passing through the dunes.
You still apologized excessively if you bumped into someone.
One afternoon, he saw you kneel down to help a small monster child tie their boot.
Another day, you spent nearly an hour helping an elderly turtle tour around town.
Not once did you act like someone dangerous.
Not once did you look like the terrifying enemy described in old history books.
Starlo leaned against a wooden post near the saloon one evening, watching you laugh with a group of townsfolk.
Inside his head, the realization finally settled into place.
Nothing had changed.
You were still the same person.
The same person who regretted a mistake so deeply it haunted your fever dreams.
The same person who treated strangers kindly because you understood how easy it was to misunderstand each other.
“Reckon that settles it,” he muttered quietly.
Congratulations, genius.
You’re in love with a wanted human.
He groaned softly and rubbed the back of his neck.
“So this is the irony you were on about, huh?”
ᨒ✩₊˚.⋆𓆈𓆣⭐🏜💛𓆙𓆈₊˚.⋆✧ᨒ
He found you outside, distant from town, later that evening.
You were sitting on a rail, watching the sunset paint the dunes gold.
Your scarf and coat looked absurdly warm for the desert heat.
The bandit mask covered the lower half of your face as always.
Starlo walked up slowly, boots crunching softly in the sand.
“Evenin’, partner,” he said.
You glanced over.
“Evening, sheriff.”
He leaned on the fence beside you.
For a moment, he said nothing.
Then he spoke quietly.
“I know you’re human.”
Your entire body went rigid.
The silence that followed could have cracked stone.
Starlo had read the comics and seen the movies; he expected a speech, a confession about your guilt, shouting, or something.
Instead, you jumped off the fence and sprinted away faster than he'd ever seen you move.
Starlo felt a little embarrassed to admit that it took him a moment to react before he started chasing after you.
“Hold on now,” he said quickly.
Your voice trembled.
“You gonna kill me, sheriff?”
“No.”
“You should.”
He shook his head.
“You're one of my people now,” he said firmly. “You've never caused trouble for anyone here.”
You looked away.
“I killed someone.”
“I know.”
Your shoulders trembled.
The words were so simple.
Certain.
Starlo took a slow breath.
Then he removed his hat.
Without the shadow of the brim, the soft glow of his blue glasses became visible.
“I," he said.
The confession came out more awkwardly than he had hoped.
Wow, that was incredibly direct. Fantastic work. Very smooth.
Out loud, he continued.
“I liked you before I knew the truth,” he admitted. “And knowing this makes it a bit weird, but it doesn’t change much.”
You stared at him.
“Starlo…”
He rubbed the back of his neck.
“I reckon the only thing that really changed,” he said, “is that now I understand why you’ve been keeping folks at arm’s length.”
Your eyes softened slightly.
Starlo shifted his weight.
“Human or not,” he said quietly, "you've been good to us, good to me. You keep me and the other four settled down, and I'd be real happy if you'd settled with us, with me...”
The wind moved gently through the dunes.
Your voice came out small behind the mask.
“You know this is a stupid decision, right?”
Starlo smiled faintly.
“Partner,” he said, settling his hat back on his head, “this is the easiest choice I've ever made.”
He untied his lasso from around you.
You blinked. A quiet laugh slipped out before it became full-on tears.
Starlo froze for a full second.
Slowly, carefully, he wrapped his arms around you.
Your voice was soft against his poncho.
“I think…” You grabbed his hat from his head and placed it on your own. “This is the easiest decision I've ever made.”
Starlo’s smile grew wide beneath his glasses, foggy from the steam coming off him as he blushed and stammered at you.
Imagine Starlo trying to confess to you. He's clearly nervous, having taken off his hat and is currently wringing it in his hands, and his sweating having nothing to do with the Wild East's heat.
Imagine Starlo, at first, being unsure if he should even admit his feelings in the first place. After all, friendship is better than losing you entirely. But this isn't his first rodeo. He's already lost his childhood crush because he couldn't say anything, and though they're still on good terms, he doesn't want the same to happen with you.
Imagine that, despite it all, Starlo manages to muster the courage and tell you how he feels. His speech is rushed in some places, and sometimes his accent would slip thanks to his frazzled nerves. Eventually, the mask of 'North Star' seems to fall more and more as he goes on about why he fell for you, never missing out on any single detail.
Imagine that he stops trying to confess to you as North Star, Sheriff of the Wild East, but as Starlo Sunnyside, the dorky corn farmer who's fallen for you so hard he doesn't know what to do with himself.
Imagine his surprise when you reciprocate. Imagine his rays flaring out, and his teal spots brightening in a deep blush. He truly lives up to his namesake with how much he looks like a star right now.
Imagine Starlo stammering out a "really?", because he's not sure if you were joking. Imagine his lips rise into a wobbly smile, resisting to not let out several whoops of joy, and instead replying with a clumsy "th-that's great!"
Imagine that, when you both confirm that you two are 'a thing' now, he walks off with the biggest and goofiest grin on his face. When he makes sure that you're not in eyesight, Starlo jumps up and lets out all his pent-up excitement, loudly celebrating as he runs off to tell Ceroba about "The greatest thing that's ever happened to me!"
A/N: hiiiiii guys! errm it's like the middle of the night rn, and this is my first time ever writing starlo. not sure if its completely in character, but ehhhhhhhh. i'll get better. anyways expect more uty content soon bcs im currently playing the game yahoo
