Rarepair Oneshots - Undertale AUs

Coffee Date [Reaper/Ccino]

teehee

this is my first time writing both Reaper and Ccino but I hope I did them justice anyway <3

and they're humans (kinda? Reaper is weird) cuz aren't they always haha

CW/TW: many mentions of death and people dying, although not in detail and pet death.

—☕️-💀-☕️—

There was nothing the God of Death wanted more than a hot, steaming cup of coffee. His job wasn't an easy one, it was only natural that he would want a pick-me up every so often. However, today was particularly cumbersome.

Contrary to popular belief, it was not he who decided when someone would die. He was simply the guide to the afterlife. Yes, he reaped souls, but only when it was their time.

Unlike his brother, Papyrus, who took those who died painlessly, those who have no malice in their hearts and no will to stay in the world of the living anymore. He was not so lucky. His job, the one he had to do although did not want to, was to take those whose final moments were full of pain and anger.

Deaths that happened prematurely, and disturbingly.

It was always rough, no matter the day. Many days were spent consoling children who died young, and placating those full of malice and vengeance with the belief that their lives were taken too soon. He was often left working overtime, getting caught up with ghosts who either didn't realize what had happened, or were full of grief and strife, wandering the world with no end in sight.

Despite how used to the routine he became, there was always the pity, the sadness, he felt whenever he had to guide a small, frightened child soul into the afterlife. More often than not, they blamed themselves for their death. He always thought that he had grown numb to it all, he was there to do a job after all. He was not.

And today has been filled with those types of deaths. He was particularly exhausted, and a cup of burning hot black coffee sounded amazing.

There was one coffee shop that he had not been to in a long time, but made the best coffee. It was a small place, it had cats and one cutie of a barista.

The barista, who was also the owner of the shop, knew him well. They were close for a while but both of their jobs separated them. An anti-climatic ending to their relationship, to be honest.

Reaper, for that was the God of Death's name, appeared across the street. It was an urban area, although much quieter than the average city. His form shifted rapidly, trying to find one that would be suitable. He had many forms that he could take, depending on who he was with and what they perceived Death to be.

More often than not, he took the form of a skeleton. A black cloak and a large scythe as his weapon. If he had to choose a "default" form, then that would be it. Although, for such a place, he would have to take another.

If he were a mortal, it would've been a ballsy move to cross the street, it being busy and two lanes.

But for a God of Death, he had no need to fear being hit by a car. His cloak became a dark, leather trench coat that went past his knees, muscle and dark brown skin folding over his bones.

The scythe which was on him always became silver earrings in newly formed ears, and silver rings that glittered in the light. The hood that often shielded his face became black hair that sat in loose curls. His hair, which he always got used to having relatively quickly, often fell in front of his face. He made no bother to move it. He was now a bonafide human.

Well, almost.

Of course, no matter the form he was still a God. And he looked it too. There was an uncanny feeling about him.