(That's the longest chapter title I've ever had. XD)

This chapter was first requested by coolpanacakes but Frisk1525 helped me! ^_^

"At the end of the day, we're not so different, aren't we, Angel?"

"Yes, I guess we're not."

~~~~~~~

It had been like this for weeks.

Every day, the brown-haired girl would go downstairs to the large purple door that blocked her from the rest of the world. In her heart, she knew that her adoptive mother, the goddess of life, Toriel, had kept her in her home and never let her go outside because the world was dangerous. Full of perils and evil and chaos that no youngster could face without fear.

The young teenager obediently understood her mother; she already knew the pains of the outside world, for that was the reason why she lost her title of an Angel. In fact, when every god and goddess refused to take in the poor girl, Toriel was the only one who stood up for her. Hence, the girl did not even attempt to leave her humble home. She had been doing it for centuries.

But one day, she went downstairs to sweep the hallways, and that was when she heard a voice on the other side of that door.

"Hello?"

It was a masculine voice, a voice much deeper than Toriel's. Somehow, she could also detect a small tinge of mischief in his tone. Or maybe it was her imagination. One thing was for certain: this was new to her and because she didn't know what to do, a yelp escaped her lips easily.

The voice behind the door gasped in surprise; it was the first time someone responded to his greeting. Still, he calmly called out: "Hey, is someone there?"

Why is he here? Why does he want to know about me? The fallen angel was attacked with fear, adrenaline flowing through her veins. What was going to happen? She was so terrified by this new occurrence that she started to cry.

"Are you... okay?" The voice asked out of concern. At this, her hands flew to her eyelids as she desperately wiped away those saline tears, a sob escaping her mouth. She just couldn't bear with the uncertainty.

The stranger must have heard this because the next thing he said was: "Hey, why do dragons sleep during the day?"

Rubbing her eyes, she inched closer to the door, her broomstick falling to the floor with a clatter. She softly replied: "Why?"

"So that they can fight knights!" The male voice laughed to himself, relishing in the humour of his joke.

Somehow, the brunette started to chuckle, then it turned into a small giggle. The joke was cliche, sure, but it was certainly something that assured her: this man was not like the last one.

Then the voice said another one. "Why was the skeleton sad on a party night?"

"Why?" She asked back in anticipation.

"Because he had no-body to go with!"

The joke worked on her like a charm; she laughed again, completely forgetting about the whole traumatic incident. And that was really what they kept on doing; the voice would give her a joke along with the answer and she would giggle and chortle in happiness at the punchline. Until Toriel called for the girl and she had to leave the door. As she left, she asked the man for his name.

"The name's Sans," He replied gentlemanly, almost as if he was honoured with that question, even though it was from someone like her. Though he probably didn't know she was a Fallen Angel anyway. "And you are?"

Without a second thought, she answered: "My name is Frisk."

~~~~~~~

"Sans, I think this is a really bad idea." She whispered, her hands cupped around her mouth and at the door. It was very late at night, Toriel was sleeping upstairs and Frisk had ventured to the basement door without her consent. If she was caught now, it wasn't going to end well...

Meanwhile, the voice behind the door reassured her calmly. "Don't worry, I told you before; I can teleport you back once the sun rises. I promise."

Although she was still very worried for her safety, something in her heart was aching to see Sans. She wanted to see how he looked like in real life, and she was certain that he wanted to see her too. So with her heart in her throat, the brunette took out the key in her pocket (the one that she took from Toriel's room) and unlocked the door. With a strong heave, she pushed the heavy door open and walked into the outside world.

As soon as her foot stepped on the ground, a sudden nippy wind brushed against her skin, cueing her to rub her arms over and over again. Curses for the unique 'uniform' that angels had to wear; the sleeveless white tunic exposed her shoulders to the frigid environment. The thin fabric was barely enough to protect her from the cold wind. Frisk tried to cover herself with her pitch black wings, but the wind was still nibbling at her legs.

And that was when she heard a deep voice behind her. "You're... a Fallen Angel?"

Immediately, Frisk spun around and held up her hands in defence. Her brown eyes studied the figure before her, and she gasped.

This man was a Reaper. She could tell. His draping black robe and the hood hiding his eyes gave it away too easily. And moreover, this Reaper wasn't even a human; he had a white face and a toothy frown. This Reaper was a skeleton.

"A Reaper," She whispered to herself in realisation. Then, she started to scream. Had the council decided to kill her instead of exile her? It couldn't be, it just couldn't. "No! Don't take my life away!" She cried, swatting at him with her hands frantically.

All out of the sudden, he grabbed both of her hands tightly and talked to her gently. "Frisk! It's me, it's Sans! Don't be scared!" He kneeled down slightly to reach her eye level and assured her, hoping that she would stop thrashing.

"Sans?" She repeated his name as if she was picking it out of her memory. Her eyes stared into his eyes, now visible under his hood. "Sans," She said her name again, and her hands gradually stopping moving about. The skeleton sensed this and slowly placed her hands back to her sides.

"You're a, a Reaper?" She asked in surprise, tilting her head at him. Somehow, she was expecting him to be a fancy god or something, given with his sweet demeanour, kind spirit and great sense of humour. Then again, what kind of god would want to meet her?

"Heh, I'm not just a normal Reaper, Frisk," Sans replied with a chuckle. "You know there are only two skeleton Reapers, right? I'm sure an Angel like you would remember."

She nodded as she remembered. "Yeah, there is the God of Afterlife and the God of Death, I think. They're the ones who rule over the other Reapers in the Underworld." But she stopped short as she digested what Sans had said.

"I'm sure an Angel like you would remember."

At this, the girl hung her head. "I'm not an Angel," She muttered, a sad smile on her face. "Not anymore, anyway. I mean, look at these wings." She forced a chuckle as one of her wings moved to her side and patted them tenderly. "I've 'fallen' from that title, heh."

The Reaper detected a pun in her words, but he dared not to laugh. Judging by her tone, he could tell that the reason why she became a Fallen Angel was a sad and grim one.

Instead, he threw his left hand around her shoulder, making her look at him. "It's okay kid," Sans reassured her, a warm smile on his face. "If it makes you feel any better, your black wings look pretty."

"Really?" She asked, a blush forming on her cheeks.

He nodded back. "They are rather beautiful if you ask me," He remarked, petting on them lightly. "Of course, it could be just because I'm the god of Death."

The blush on her face disappeared and she froze. "You're the god of Death?" She questioned him, her voice slightly wavering in fear. According to how Toriel described the god of Death, he was supposed to be a ruthless, hated and cruel immortal, a being who did not deserve the title of 'god' but was still given it anyway. He was a person to be afraid of, and if you ever made him mad...

As soon as he heard her scared voice, he deeply regretted spilling out his title so bluntly like that. "Don't worry, kid," He scratched his head in embarrassment. "I'm not gonna kill you. Even Reapers like me can't kill Angels, so you're safe."

The girl heaved a long sigh of relief, slumping to the floor as her knees buckled weakly. It seemed that her death was not going to happen today.

Meanwhile, Sans was looking left and right, checking for anyone who might be outside doing any sentry duty. He hitched a gasp as soon as he saw a dim figure in the horizon and gestured to Frisk quickly. "Hey Frisk, I hate to interrupt your little moment of relief, but if someone sees me out in the open like this with an Angel, people aren't gonna be too happy." He said, tapping her shoulder.

She nodded her head once and stood up as soon as she could. The skeleton held out his hand, which made Frisk tilt her head in confusion. "Grab my hand, kid." He instructed her gently. "I promise that you won't die if you touch me. That magic only works on humans anyway."

Hesitatingly, she gripped onto his palm, and the both of them were covered in a wisp of navy blue magic and teleported away.

~~~~~~~

It had been like this for weeks.

Every day, the Fallen Angel Frisk would tread past the door in the basement to meet the god of Death, Sans. During each trip, she would bring something from home to show the skeleton. A slice of pie, a drawing book, some crayons and colour pencils... She was a teenager but Toriel would treat her like a child sometimes and truthfully, she has never minded that.

Sans would look forward to the times when Frisk visits him. For the first few times, they would meet at the door, but after realising that it was a place too vulnerable to be spotted, they decided to meet up at a nearby forest called Snowdin Forest. In the middle of a clearing, they would meet every day, without fail.

Sometimes, when Frisk found nothing new to bring to Sans, they would just chat together. They would talk about anything; about their days, how their daily life went about, their likes and dislikes. Occasionally, they would exchange puns and end up laughing together, and Frisk always enjoyed listening to how Sans works as the god of Death. Reaping souls and whatnot.

At times when Frisk allowed it, Sans would touch her wings.

His fluttering touches on her wings would tickle her a little, and when she chuckled, Sans would make a mental note and pat her wings even more lightly. Nevertheless, she really enjoyed the fact that Sans was being so sensitive as he touched her wings. It almost felt relaxing and calming when he caressed those feathery black wings. And whenever he whispered to her about how he thought that black wings looked much better to him than white wings, her heart would jump. After hearing this a couple of times, she began to blush too.

Then there were those times when he would surprise her with a hug from behind.

It would all happen so quickly. As Frisk was still intoxicated by the feeling of Sans' fingers on her feathery appendages, the skeleton would wrap his arms around her shoulders and nuzzle his face into her short brown hair. Frisk would yelp at this, but after a short while, she would sweetly embrace his hug without any complaints. This happened every time Frisk visited Sans, even on the days that she would visit him in the day and in the night.

Then one day, as Sans was touching Frisk's wings, he told her: "You know, I think I used to have wings too."

She was astonished. Never had she heard of a god previously having wings. "Really?" She asked in wonder.

The skeleton nodded at her. "It's true. Almost all the Reapers in the Underworld have been Angels before, even me." He shook his head sadly. "Though I think all the feathers on my wings disappeared a long time ago."

Confused, Frisk asked: "What do you mean? They disappear over time?"

Her response from the skeleton was a light-hearted chuckle. "You really don't know a lot, do you kid?"

"No, hehe." She scratched her head in embarrassment. What else could she say? Ever since her creation, Frisk had been a rather reserved Angel who didn't like to talk or gossip much.

Patiently, Sans started to explain. "Frisk, I'll be honest with you. The first few immortals that existed in this world weren't gods; they were Angels. In the beginning, every Angel was made to be the same. But over time, some Angels exhibited extraordinary traits like a passion for peace or possessing a lot of knowledge." He then turned to Frisk, who was attentively listening to him explain.

Sans chuckled softly at Frisk's cute expression and continued. "These Angels soon found their way to a higher plane of existence and gradually, their wings began to fall off. And pretty soon, they became gods representing what they loved the most. That's why Undyne loves peace and Alphys loves knowledge so much."

Frisk nodded her head in understanding. While she never met those goddesses before, she had heard about them from other Angels. Undyne was in charge of keeping peace on Earth and Alphys was in charge of securing the wealth of knowledge in humans' minds.

Right then, something floated into the brunette's mind. "Did that mean that you liked death when you were an Angel?" She asked politely, not in a horrified manner that would sound rude.

Sans shook his head again. "I'm not the god of Death because I liked death," He said solemnly.

"I'm the god of Death because I was the first Fallen Angel."

The girl gasped. "Y-you were a Fallen Angel too?!" She exclaimed, bewildered.

He nodded. "I can't remember what I did wrong, but it was probably really bad and unforgivable as an Angel. My haloes were taken away and I was sent straight to the Underworld. No one was there but myself and I felt alone and scared." He shivered a little as he recalled the memory. "Eventually, I got used to it. My wings turned black and all the feathers fell off after a week. I was no longer an Angel, but a god of the Underworld." He didn't say another word after that and the forest was filled with silence for what seemed like hours.

During this quiet moment, Frisk was pondering over what Sans had said, especially the part about him being a Fallen Angel. Her heart was filled with pity and compassion for him; he had such a sad past, and yet all the other gods and Angels discriminate him as a vicious and heartless person. After all this time, Frisk was certain that it wasn't true; the skeleton sitting next to her right now was no different than her, a Fallen Angel

Then Sans broke the silence. "Remember that I got surprised when you first stepped out of the Ruins?" He turned to her and asked.

"Yeah. What about it?"

"I was just surprised that I found another Fallen Angel just like me back then," He explained. "Usually, all the Reapers in the Underground have completely lost their wings by then, and believe me when I say that they are not nice." He slung his arm around her shoulders and gave her a small side hug. "You, on the other hand, are pretty nice for a Fallen Angel," He noted with a wide grin. "It feels, refreshing to talk with you."

She blushed yet again and shyly replied: "The same with you. It feels more comfortable to talk to you than anyone else, really."

"I guess, at the end of the day, we're not so different, aren't we, Angel?"

"Yes, I guess we're not." She nodded in agreement.

Silence ensued for a short while. It kind of felt awkward since Frisk was blushing.

The tranquil environment was starting to make the brunette feel uncomfortable. Sure, she loved the peaceful sounds of the forest and whatnot, but this time it was killing her.

"Sans, I-"

"Frisk, what do-"

The both of them turned to face each other for a split second before turning back again. Another momentary silence.

"Go on, I didn't mean to interrupt you." The girl offered kindly.

Sans hesitated for a short second before he spoke. "Well um," He started, scratching his chin nervously. "Frisk, what do you think about me?"

She tilted her head. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," He scratched his head, finding difficulty in explaining. "You heard a lot of stories about me, right?" She nodded her head once and he continued. "After hearing what happened to me at the very beginning, I mean, has your opinion changed or, what do you think I am to you?" He finished quickly, pulling his hood over his eyes a bit more.

The Fallen Angel pondered over this for a while, her lack of response making Sans even more anxious by the second. "I guess, I don't think of you as a bad guy anymore," She started, giving him a warm smile. "When I first met you, I was really scared and afraid of you, remember? Now, not so much." A giggle escaped her mouth.

The sound of her laughter made Sans' heart flutter. This was a strange sensation, he knew. Never in his whole life had he felt this way, and it all started when he met the girl behind the door to the Ruins. But he had no idea or clue as to what it meant.

"And," Her voice brought him back to reality. "I'd l-like to s-say something," A red blush was seen on her face and she was twiddling her thumbs.

"What is it?"

She took a deep breath and only said one line of dialogue so quickly that Sans couldn't understand a single word. Baffled, he said: "Um, kid I think you're gonna have to say that again."

The brunette gave out a short and flustered yelp and she hid her face in her hands. Instead of getting a good explanation, the skeleton was even more confused. What was she doing? He couldn't understand any of her actions or what they meant.

"Uh Frisk?" He asked in amusement. "You alright?"

"I LIKE YOU, SANS!" She took off the hands on her face and suddenly screamed right in front of him. Right after that, she hid her face again and curled into a small ball.

The words continued to echo in his skull. 'I like you'? His heart was pumping wildly and his spirit felt like it was soaring. She liked him? An Angel like her, likes the god of Death?

He felt a tug on his soul and gasped softly. Somehow, words were appearing in his mind, words that he could not recognise. It felt just like when he became the god of Death. Was this some sort of ascension to another plane? He had to know more to find out.

"What do you mean?"

Now it was Frisk's turn to find difficulty in answering him. She twiddled her thumbs nervously and began to stutter. A lot. "W-when I talk to you every day, it f-feels l-like there's a warm f-feeling in my chest," She started, daring not to look at Sans in the eye. "I just f-feel very safe and happy w-whenever I'm w-with you, d-does that make sense?"

He nodded in understanding. He could feel the words in his head becoming clearer. Words like 'love', 'happiness' and 'hearts'. He was almost at the pinnacle of understanding what he was feeling, but he wasn't there. Not yet. "What else?" He prodded.

"And," She continued. "It feels like I can talk to you about anything in my life and you would understand me. And you would listen to what I have to say, instead of listening to what the other gods would talk about me." She discovered that she was more confident in speaking at this point. "And your puns and personality are all so cute and adorable! How could I not like you?" The last part seemed just come out of her mouth unexpectedly and she blushed to a shade of crimson as she realised what she said.

Her last sentence was the last thing he needed. He finally understood the warm feeling in his chest when he saw her. At first, the skeleton Reaper thought that he was losing his mind, but now he knew; he liked Frisk too. Not just 'like', he loved so many things about her. Her laughter, her voice, her smiles...

Sans realised that his face had turned cerulean for the first time in his immortal life.

And Frisk must have seen the blush as well, because she had turned to him, staring intently at his eye sockets. "Sans? Are you okay?" She asked in concern and worry.

Right then and there, a single word appeared in his head: 'kiss'.

And he did.

He wasn't in full control of himself, for it was his heart that was guiding him and not his logic. Let's just say that it got a little bit heated after a while before they parted.

The Fallen Angel's face was as red as a tomato and she was panting as they broke apart, the aftermath of Sans' feverous and passionate kisses. He had no idea that he could be this bold and daring in his whole life.

Shy to hear her response, he shifted his body a few inches away from her and pulled his hood over his head completely, hoping to hide the blush on his face. Why the heck was he being this timid? He loved her, he really did, but this was a brand new emotion that he felt before, and he had no clue how it would go down.

But Frisk's reaction was anything but that.

She crawled closer to him and wrapped her arms around his shoulder from behind, just like how the skeleton would hug her, and whispered: "I love you."

He turned to her in shock and surprise, widening his eyes at the sight of her sweet smile, her lips still cherry red from his kiss earlier. Slowly, his face broke into a grin and he returned the hug in pure bliss. "I love you too, Angel," He murmured into her ear. "I love you so much."

Little did they know that someone was watching them from a nearby bush, her furry fist clenched into a ball. There were small saplings blossoming into flowers at the place she was hiding at.

It was the goat goddess of Life, Toriel.

And she was NOT happy.

~~~~~~~

Continuation? No continuation? Comment down below. ^_^

- HoodieGirl