Undertale Sweater Frisk Novels & Stories

After coming home from buying fresh produce at the farmer's market, I began prepping the ingredients and making lunch. As soon as I was done with my tasks, my husband, Jeremy Tate, came home. "A pipe in Chloe's home has burst. Hurry up and help her out. It's difficult enough for a single mother like her to handle such problems." I took off my apron and went to Chloe's place to unclog her pipes. Then, I mopped up the stagnant water before proceeding to comfort her frightened child. Once I finally dragged my exhausted body home, I saw Jeremy handing over my daughter's sweater to Chloe. "Don't stress yourself out, Chloe. It's not like Eliza can still wear this anyway. This sweater is perfect for Lily." As I stared at the sweater, I suddenly spoke up. "Let's get a divorce, Jeremy." He looked at me in disbelief. "You want a divorce over an old sweater?" "Yeah. Precisely."

I, Darlene Cooley, have an ability. Whenever I touch an object, I can see the scenes it has experienced over the past day. I've been married for five years. Every time I help my husband, Bernard Hoffman, tidy up his suits or organize his briefcase, what I see are conference rooms, whiteboards, and workstations. Once in a while, I appear in those scenes. He'll be secretly reading my messages under his desk, the corners of his mouth lifting unconsciously. Bernard is so gentle that it feels almost unreal. In winter, he places my slippers by the heater to warm them up. No matter how busy his business trips are, he video calls me right on time. When I casually mention I feel like eating caramel popcorn, he drives halfway across the city to stand in line for it. My friends all say I'm blessed, and I feel the same way. That is, until yesterday, when he comes back from a trip. I go to help him unpack, and the moment I touch that gray cashmere sweater, a flood of images rushes in. Bernard is sitting across from a short-haired woman. Her eyes are bright, and a shallow dimple appears when she smiles. He listens to her speak, earnest and focused, with his head tilted slightly to one side. A faint smile lingers at the corner of his mouth. It's been a long time since he has listened to me speak like that. The vision ends. I crouch in front of the suitcase, my hand still resting on the cashmere sweater, unable to snap out of it for a long while. Then, I stand up and walk over to the cabinet, where I pull out my own suitcase.

Three years married, yet my husband and I had never once held hands. With a grudge I'd been quietly nursing, I took a photo of myself in sexy lingerie with my back to the camera and sent it to him from a throwaway account. I expected it to go nowhere. Two minutes later, my phone buzzed. [Your family member has purchased a same-day return flight.] [She's just keeping you around for fun. Don't let me catch you, you horndog.]

Arthur Black is the heir to the Alpha position in the Northland pack. He's cold and decisive, and he intimidates the rest of the pack. All in all, he's a cold-blooded black wolf. But after he and I get together, he formally announces to the entire pack that I, Ella Grant, am his mate. He never speaks with other she-wolves just to make me feel extremely secure. But what he doesn't know is that I've already personally witnessed his betrayal to my love. On the night of the full moon, Arthur embraces a sexy she-wolf while kissing her. He remarks casually, "Ella told me before that she will leave me if she ever finds out that I've cheated on her. I love her, and I can't ever lose her. "That's why you'd better not expose our affair to Ella. Otherwise… well, you know the consequences of doing so." The she-wolf, Lilian Frisk, retorts in displeasure, "Then why did you still seek me out?" Arthur smiles. "I'm just toying around with you, you see. You know that the she-wolf I love is Ella. But I've been staring at her face and sleeping with her for seven whole years. Even a devoted wolf like me needs something new every now and then."

In the Gallo family’s private jewelry workshop. The wedding ring I’d waited six months for was on another woman’s finger. Gia’s hand. An international supermodel my fiancé, the Don of the Gallo family, was having an affair with. The workshop director stood by, a cold sweat soaking his back as he looked at Maximo on the sofa. Maximo stood up. He took Gia’s hand, lifting it to the light to admire the ring, his tone leaving no room for argument. “She’s walking in a major show in Paris next week. She needs this to make an impression on the haute couture scene. The family vault is full of jewels. Pick something else. Don't be dramatic.” Under the harsh lights, Gia admired herself in the mirror, her smile haughty and triumphant. I looked at my own reflection. Cashmere sweater and jeans. I didn’t belong here. This wedding, a year in the making, suddenly felt like a joke. I'm not upset. I just canceled the custom wedding dress along the way. “Maximo. The other jewels are perfectly fine.So I’m not getting married.”

In order to stop me from spending money recklessly, my mom has exchanged my college living expenses into coupons. If I need to buy anything, I must buy it online. Also, I need to send a copy of my expenses sheet and the details behind said expenses to my mom so that she can check everything thoroughly. Only when she's given me her permission can I buy that item. When I tell my mom I want to buy a shirt, she tells me, "I remember you could still wear that shirt back in your high school days. You should just stick with it. Why waste your money on new clothes?" During winter, I can only wear the old sweater I've been wearing since my high school times while huddling in a corner of my dorm and nibbling on a sandwich. Meanwhile, my mom smugly posts a picture of the six-thousand-dollar dress she has just bought on her social media feed. "What a beautiful dress!"

Although I was the second child in the family, my mother loved me the most. When Dad bought my sister a new dress, she stayed up late knitting a sweater for me. When Grandma took my younger brother out for burgers, she baked me a homemade sponge cake. Until the New Year’s Eve dinner. Dad placed the big chicken drumstick onto my sister’s plate. Grandma immediately stuffed the other one into my brother’s. My mother hurriedly picked the chicken wing from her plate and placed it onto mine, smiling as she said, “I saved this especially for you.” The relatives laughed and teased, “Your family really has a clear division of love. Everyone spoils a different child. What a loving family.” The next second, I suddenly flipped the table. Under everyone’s stunned gaze, I grabbed that chicken wing and shoved it straight into my mother’s mouth.

Adrienne prides herself for being smart, prim and proper. She doesn’t go against the rules of society and refuse to even take a shot of Tequila. In other words: Conservative. Boring. For just one night, she let lose. She left her eyeglasses, flat shoes, long skirt and knitted sweater behind. In high heels and a dress that accented her long legs and curves, she went to a club by herself and decided to find out what it was like to have a good time. Her night couldn’t even be more perfect when Justin Adams, the city’s most sought after bachelor, a.k.a. most notorious playboy fell prey to the charms she didn’t even know she possessed. Justin was every girl’s dream boat, but he never committed to a woman. He didn't date and didn't do relationships. But what was supposed to be just a one night stand with the City's most wanted playboy became a full-blown secret affair. Soon, she will find out that she's been living her life with all the right intentions... but for all the wrong reasons.

I was the sole front desk clerk at a haunted hotel. Welcoming players, checking in on the bosses’ quarters, and slacking off a bit were all part of the job. At least, that was what I thought. It turned out my days were far from ordinary. A blood-drenched little girl in a tattered red dress kept ringing the service bell. Her eerie voice echoed, “Miss, why didn’t you come play with me?” A creepy black cat with glowing eyes wouldn’t stop meowing and rubbing against my legs. And then there was the old woman with claws like knives, cheerfully knitting me a sweater… out of players’ skin. One day, I took a day off to care for my sick mother. That was my biggest mistake. The entire game instance erupted in chaos. Bosses interrogated players, demanding to know where their precious front desk clerk had gone. “Did she abandon us? Is she never coming back?” I ran. They chased. But no matter how fast I fled, their grip on me only tightened. In the end, escape wasn’t an option.

A woman who couldn't even produce a single egg for three years. You are just a useless piece of skin.* The words echoed in my head, a vicious, repeating loop that shattered my mind completely. I stumbled back onto my feet, my body shaking so violently I could barely control my limbs. I didn't grab a coat. I didn't grab my shoes. I just ran. I pushed open the bedroom door and sprinted down the dark hallway, my bare feet slapping against the cold hardwood stairs. I heard Lola's bedroom door click open as I reached the foyer, her voice calling out to me in a frightened whisper, but I couldn't stop. I threw open the heavy front door and ran out into the freezing, pitch black night. The gravel of the driveway cut into the soles of my feet, but I didn't feel the physical pain. The agony in my chest was too loud. I ran down the long, winding road leading away from the estate, the dark trees looming over me like monsters. The sky was heavy, and a bitter wind whipped through my oversized sweater, but I was entirely numb. I just wanted to die.