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keelywolfe · 4 years

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FIC: Terms of Engagement ch.8

Summary: Rus is still a kid himself and with his life turned upside-down, he has no idea how he’s going to take care of his baby brother. Having other kid skeletons appear in his world wasn’t exactly the help he was looking for.

Tags: Pre-Spicyhoney, Underfell Papyrus, Underfell Sans, Underswap Papyrus, Underswap Sans, Undertale Sans, Undertale Papyrus, Babybones, Scientist W. D. Gaster, Possible Past Child Abuse, Skellie Daycare, Growing Up Together, Big Brothers Caring For Their Little Bros, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Violence

Chapter 6 | Chapter 7

~~*~~

Read Chapter Eight on AO3

Read It Here!

~~*~~

~~ Sixteen Years Ago ~~

The lab didn’t have what could be called a kitchen, exactly. The only thing that could be considered close was the old vending machine and Rus cleared that out years ago, back when the scientist went…well…wherever he went. That along with a broken coffee machine was about the only gear they’d been left with at the beginning.

Over the years, Rus jerry-rigged a sort of cooking nook in one of the lab rooms. He hated in there, the almost-memories that lurked in the corners, the large glass tubes that he still sometimes dreamed about, of looking out through the blur of liquid at a distorted face that looked back.

The tubes were empty now, one of them broken and the glass carefully cleaned away so curious little baby bones couldn’t hurt themselves, but they were still there, skulking like unwanted sentries.

These days Rus could mostly ignore them, and it wasn’t as if he had a lot of choice over where to set up. His little kitchen area had to be in this room because it was the only one with a gas hookup for the Bunsen burners. Two of which were on, the flames carefully lowered to a steady medium height.

Over one was a battered old pot with canned tomato soup simmering away. On another was a genuine cast iron pan that Rus found in the dump, rusty and discarded. Took him a long time to scrape in clean and season it, but it was worth the effort. The surface was smooth as glass, glossy black and Rus might be a shit cook but one thing he knew was the value of good equipment.

He was slicing the bread when he heard it. Close to the doorway there was a scuffling sound, one he knew pretty well by now. That was the sound of a little skeleton trying, and failing, to be quiet and he didn’t have to look to guess at who was trying to play ninja warrior behind his back.

“you were supposed to stay with the others,” Rus said without turning around. All the better to cement the idea that big bros had eyes on the backs of their skulls.

A small, stifled gasp, yep, someone knew the jig was up and from the corner of his socket, Rus could see Edge shuffling miserably inside, ready to be sent back to the playroom where Blue and Papyrus were probably still making use of the box of crayons Rus spoiled them with a few weeks ago. If nothing else, the lab had plenty of paper lying around, most of it covered with weird symbols, formulas that the kids all gleefully scribbled over.

Edge had been less enthused than the others when Rus plunked him down with his own papers and that was tough titty, kitty. Trial and error was a good teacher and Rus learned one lesson pretty damn quick; corral the kids before trying to cook anything. Without the trouble trio, he at least had a chance of making something reasonably edible.

That left him with a solo act and Edge came over to stand beside him, his little skull still a good few inches too short to let him look over the countertop.

“I wanted to be with you, Russy,” Edge said mournfully. From the depths of sorrow in the kid’s voice, you’d think Rus stepped away for a decade or two instead of fifteen minutes.

“yeah? that so?” Rus said, still not looking down. Letting that sweet, sweet guilt keep piling on. “what’s the rule?”

He could hear Edge squirming, as if he were weighing the odds of waiting to see if Rus somehow forgot the question. When the hoped-for reprieve didn’t come, a meek, almost inaudible whisper floated up, “To stay in the playroom.”

“uh huh. and where are you?”

Another long moment of painful hoping, then, even softer, “Not in the playroom.”

“yep,” Rus agreed, “that’s what it looks like to me, too. what do you think we should do about that, kid?”

No answer, only a miserable, hitched breath trying to add that guilt trip back onto Rus’s itinerary, only it wasn’t gonna work this time.

What he needed to do was frogmarch his little escape artist right back to the playroom, for reasons of: A. before the other two came looking for him and B. to show him he couldn’t just disobey the rules whenever he wanted.

Rus glanced down at Edge sternly, all ready to order him right back where he came from…and ended up looking right into his huge, pleading sockets, tears already standing out and ready to brim over to trail down his pudgy little cheek bones to his quivering little chin.

Rus sighed. Really, how was he supposed to say no to that?

“c’mere, kiddo.” He reached down to pick Edge up and the way his expression brightened with delight was enough to make it worth the pile of trouble this was probably gonna cause.

He hoped.

He set Edge down on the counter-top a safe distance away from the burners. The kid looked at the setup with interest, his wide eye lights drinking it all in eagerly.

“wanna help me make grilled cheese?” Rus offered, resigned to his fate.

“Yes!” Edge shouted in a fair attempt at deafening them both. Rus twisted a knuckle against his audial canal and shook his head, reaching for the butter.

“okay, first, we have to put butter on the bread.”

“Why?” Edge asked promptly, ‘cause Angel knew that Edge always had two questions for every statement.

“toasts better, taste better, take your pick. see?” Rus scraped the butter knife over the bread and left a mostly even smear behind. Then he held out the knife, handle first, “okay, kiddo, your turn.”

From the reverent way Edge took the knife, you would’ve thought Rus handed over Excalibur. He carefully mimicked what Rus showed him, his little red tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth in concentration as he slowly spread the butter. He held it up proudly when he was finished, nicely coated and ready for toasting. “There!”

“good job!” Rus said and he really hoped his disgruntlement that the little brat was a hell of a lot better at that than he was didn’t show in his voice. He set Edge’s in the pan to toast, handing over his slightly mangled piece. “see if you can fix that one while i prep the cheese.”

‘Cheese’ was probably a pretty loose term for it. Yeah, it was orange, and yeah, it was in slices, but that was about as close as it got. Gerson didn’t even keep it refrigerated and there was always plenty on her dusty shelves when Rus made the trip to Waterfall for supplies on days someone else had the kids, because he could hit up the dump on the way and make it a twofer, especially if he could find something to sell. The DVD of ‘Jerry Maguire’ he dug out that paid for the crayons was a good case in point.

Rus unwrapped a slice of the pseudo-cheese and plopped it on the bread. Even the noise it made was undairy-like and it was a good thing that shit tasted so good or Rus wouldn’t scrape up the G for it it all the time. By then, Edge had smoothed over the buttery lumps on the other slice of bread and Rus added it to the pile, sealing its cheesy fate. The rich, toasty smell that rose up as it sizzled away was enough to make Rus’s mouth water. He hadn’t eaten yet today, supplies were a little low and his soul was crying out for food. Rus ignored it. The kids came first, once they were full, he’d make his own.

“You should flip it,” Edge said suddenly.

“huh?” Rus frowned at him, “no, it’s not cooked yet.”

“Yes, it is,” Edge said, insistently. He picked up the spatula from the counter and held it out as he added ominously, “it’ll burn.”

“it will no—fine,” Rus sighed. Worst that could happen was an ‘I told you’ so and another flip. He carefully slid the spatula beneath the sandwich and managed to turn it over without accidentally hurling it across the room and if anyone asked, that stain on the wall had always been there. Rus stared down in disbelief. The bread was a perfect golden-brown, cheese slowly starting to glisten and ooze at the edges. He turned to Edge and demanded, “how did you know that, squirt?”

Edge only looked at him and said matter-of-factly. “’cause when you leave it on as long as you think it needs, it burns.”

Ouch. Called out by a kid half his height, yeesh, that was gonna leave a mark.

It stung unexpectedly, making Rus blink hard against the sudden prickle of tears. He was trying, okay, it wasn’t his fault he was shitty at cooking and even shittier at budgeting enough for food, it wasn’t his fault that he’d already left off wearing stripes to keep anyone seeing him from asking too many question even if he and Red and Sans went through the calculations once out of a spiteful sort of curiosity and figured they were all maybe, maybe, fifteen, if you counted leap years, it wasn’t his fucking fault and—

“Russy? Are you okay?”

Rus startled and nearly dropped the sandwich. Hastily, he slid it onto a plate, slapping the spatula down to scrub at his sockets with his sleeve. Edge was looking at him, all wide-socketed worry and Rus managed to scrape up a wobbly smile.

“yep, just fine,” Rus said, a little roughly, and when Edge only looked at him doubtfully Rus scooped him up and tickled him until the kid was squealing laughter, “yeah, that’s right, you so smart, but i’m still bigger!”

“Stop, stop,” Edge begged, giggling frantically. Rus tickled him a fraction of a minute longer, then made to set him down on the countertop. Only for Edge to cling to him, hugging him hard. “I love you, Russy.”

Yeah, keep this up and he was gonna have to mop in here ‘cause his soul was gonna be a puddle on the floor. “love you, too, brat.” He set Edge back down and tapped the little nodule of his nasal cavity with a fingertip, “now let’s get cooking before papyrus try to eat the crayons again.” Edge gave him a guilty look and Rus groaned, “he didn’t.”

“I told him the purple one wasn’t grape!”

Welp, so much for the crayons. Rus only shook his head and handed Edge more bread to butter. They had sandwiches to make and if Papyrus’s teeth were more rainbow than not when they got there, at least he left room for lunch.

~~*~~

~~ Now ~~

Despite this place leaving Rus feeling off-kilter, there was at least one thing both their universes had in common; Snowdin was fucking cold. Rus watched Edge head on after the kids until he disappeared around a corner and then took his own shivering butt back inside. Should’ve grabbed his hoodie too instead of just his smokes, too rattled by losing his shortcuts to even consider he was inviting a little bonus frostbite.

Red was sprawled on the sofa, picking idly at his teeth for any breakfast leftovers with a toothpick. He flicked it idly in the direction of the trash while Rus closed the door and missed, left it dangling precariously on the lip of the can.

“not sure if that should be worth anything but negative points.” Rus kicked off his shoes and tried not to notice that the snow helped wash away some of the marrow spattering his shoes, leaving behind dingy rust-colored streaks.

“nah, worth at least two points for pissing off my bro,” Red said. He sat up, one foot on the sofa cushion and the other dangling as he asked bluntly, “got your head on straight?”

No. “yeah, i think so.” Rus sank down on the other side of the sofa, propping his stocking feet on the coffee table. “so, now what?”

“welp, now that we’ve got our stories straight, let’s talk about the problem.”

Rus tipped his head back to look up at the ceiling, studying it. There was a discoloration in one corner, maybe from an old leak. “problem being how to get me back home.”

“yeah, that’s the one and it might be a little harder than ya think.” Red exhaled long and slow. “the machine ain’t here.”

Of all things, that was the last Rus expected. For a long minute, Rus kept looking at the ceiling, idly wondering if the stain on it looked more like a cat in a tuxedo or a bird sitting in a teacup, it didn’t quite register, because that? That made no sense, not at all, not when laid next to Red’s reasons for not coming to live Underswap all those years ago. Rus sat up straight and turned to look at Red. Who was doing his own ceiling survey, maybe trying to decide himself on that stain, could even be a dinosaur learning how to tap dance if you looked at it right and none of that fucking matter because what Red was saying couldn’t be right, it was unthinkable, inconceivable.

“but—” The word stuck in his throat and Rus swallowed hard, trying to unstick it, managed to stumble out, “but…you said…you stayed so no one could use it!”

“did,” Red agreed, grimly. His eye lights flicked from the cat/bird/dinosaur to Rus, meeting his horrified gaze. “only, i didn’t have your little travel pass to move it and we didn’t have time to figure anything else out, so had to go with the next best thing.”

That tone was not at all what Rus wanted to hear, far too grim and there was only one reason he could even conceive of for it, the one thing he hadn’t even wanted to consider, not even once while he was sitting here in a house that was not, quite, a mirror image of his own and his brother was a universe away, all alone with no idea what happened to him.

“you destroyed it?” Rus whispered. His voice broke, cracked right in the middle like a plate dropped on a hard floor.

“almost did,” Red said bluntly. Rus pulled in a long, slow breath. “prolly should’ve, but edge didn’t want me to. cause’a you, you know.”

“me?” Rus said, surprised.

“you,” Red repeated, a touch mockingly, “always shoving all that hope shit in their heads, helpin’ others to help themselves, all that piss and hokum. if things got better here, he was figurin’ we could go back someday. he’s been workin’ on that ‘better’ part ever since we walked out of the lab.”

Better, a better world. Rus thought about the wall around this Snowdin, the protective spells woven into it. About XP hunters lurking in the woods and the difference between Monsters and monsters. “how’s that going?”

Red shrugged, “can’t save the world, but he’s not doing too shabby in his corner of it.” The words were flippant, but his eye lights were fond. Then Red gave himself a little shake and pointed at the coffee table. By Rus’s propped-up feet was a plain cardboard box and he leaned forward, cautiously lifting the lid as Red said, “didn’t wreck it but i did take all these.”

Inside the box was a pile of little bundles wrapped in what looked like scraps of an old t-shirt. Cautiously, Rus opened one, holding up the contents to get a better look. A component, a card of green fiberglass with winding lanes of copper and bristling with transistors. He wrapped it back up hastily and put it back in the box with the other parts. Tucked into the side was a folded piece of paper and Rus plucked it out and opened it, studying what looked like a rough schematic.

“you numbered all the parts,” Rus murmured, studying it.

“yeah, well, didn’t want to try guessin’ which tab a fit into what slot b when the time came,” Red snorted. “rus, i ain’t gonna butter your bread ‘bout this. the machine’s still at the lab, the new royal scientist’s been there for years now, and she ain’t one to mess with. we pulled a drop cloth over it ‘fore we took off, but for all i know, she’s gutted it for parts. it’s a long shot for sure, but that’s our best bet so that’s what we’re goin’ with.”

Rus nodded slowly. “so we go to the lab.”

“fuck, no!” Red sputtered, sitting up stock-straight as he glared at Rus, “didn’t ya hear me? alphys is nuts and even if she wasn’t, she ain’t about to let us prance in and start tinkering.”

That was certainly news, especially with the name tucked in there.

“alphys?” Rus blurted out, astonished, “seriously? the head of the royal guard?” Alphys was a tough ol’ bird but Rus was pretty sure any experiments she did involved punching out the results.

“heh, really?” Red shook his head, “we need to sit down sometime and compare notes, see if we can figure out the difference ‘tween our worlds.” Red shifted, all amusement fading, “here she’s the royal scientist and fucking around with her is a good way to spend the rest of your time taking in dinner through a straw, and that’s only if you don’t end up on a metal table.” A barely perceptible shiver when through Red, “think we’ve all had enough of that.”

Understatement. “so how are we going to get to the machine?” Rus asked.

“simple,” Red leaned forward, his eye lights determined. “you can’t do your shortcuts, but maybe i can. so you’re gonna teach me your little parlor trick and i’m gonna teleport in.”

Before Rus could ‘what the fuck’ that little plan, Edge came back in. A sharp look from Red warned him to keep his trap shut and Rus obeyed it, for now, trying to look completely innocent and not as if he and Red were busily making what was probably an upgraded version of a suicide pact.

“did you catch up to the kids?” Rus asked.

Edge smiled. It lifted the corners of his sockets, and again Rus was struck at the sight, the sweet kid he knew so long ago peeking out from beneath that scarred exterior. “I did. I hope you weren’t expecting your G back, I let them keep it as a souvenir.”

“do i wanna ask?” Red sighed out.

“Probably not. I’m going on patrol,” Edge announced and started to suit up, “I’ll come back for lunch, was there anything specific you’d like?”

“nah, i’m easy,” Rus said. He ignored Red’s sudden snort, “i’ll eat anything, even take a grilled cheese, if you’ve got it.”

“I can manage that,” Edge paused with his chest plate above his head, sending Rus a sharp smile and Rus wondered abruptly if he was remembering the same thing, that long ago day in the kitchen nook together, confirmed it with a sly, “I promise not to burn it.”

“hey!” Rus sputtered. Not much defense against the truth, so instead he sulked and watched Edge finish suiting up. The armor made him look so much more imposing, more than any scar possibly could and yet, when he headed for the door, Rus couldn’t help blurting out, “be careful out there.”

Edge paused. He walked over to the sofa on strangely silent feet and reached over. Rus sat frozen as he lightly touched Rus’s cheekbone, his gloved fingertips rough, the stiff material unforgiving and yet, the touch itself was soft, as gentle as his words, “I will, Russy.”

The nickname snapped Rus out of his little trance. “seriously, you can just call me rus,” he grumbled.

“I really couldn’t,” Edge said. He turned away and strode off in a clank of armor. The door closed behind him with a decisive click and Rus huffed out an aggravated sigh.

“your brother is a pain in the ass.” The expected agreement didn’t come, and Rus turned to see Red looking at him strangely, “what?”

A long moment of silence. “nothin’, bean pole,” Red said, finally, “he’s somethin’, all right. how about you go take a nap, get off that leg for a little bit and we’ll head out later and start workin’ on upgrading my stats.”

Rus opened his mouth, ready to protest that they needed to get the hell started if this was the plan, he needed to get home. Only to close it again, words unspoken, because he wasn’t gonna teach Red to shortcut in a day or a week or whatever, it took him ages to be able to shortcut reliably without it snapping back like an invisible rubber band, knocking him ass over teakettle while Sans laughed his ass off.

This wasn’t gonna be a fast fix and there wasn’t thing one he could do about it. Rus nodded and headed upstairs, let himself into Edge’s room to curl up on the bed that wasn’t his while he tried to stifle tears into the blankets

Eventually, he gave up and just cried, let it all come out of him in one long, miserable burst, until he was a snotty mess. When it was done, he felt mostly better, a little worse, and he settled down to sleep. The blankets smelled kinda like cookies, Rus decided sleepily, cookies when they were still spicy warm, and it was his last thought before he drifted into an exhausted sleep.

~~*~~

tbc

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #baby bones #terms of engagement

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yastaghr · 4 years

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Grey 17

Summary: Berry finds his datemates a little too late. Blue gets inducted into the revolution, and his HP is discovered.

Warnings: Blood, Aftermath of Torture, Major Character Death

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16555439/chapters/64110841

It had been two days since Berry had last seen or heard from his datemates. To say he was worried would be an understatement. In a place as small as the Underground it was almost impossible not to run into people on a regular basis, especially if you were dating them. Plus there were the phone calls. Berry was used to calling his girlfriends every night that he wasn’t sleeping with them. So for him not to hear from them in two days was unthinkable. He had to find them!

He regretted not searching for them sooner when he found them. The state they were in… he would remember it for the rest of his life. They were missing all of the toes on both of their feet, and the raw patches had been burned. Their legs had been fileted. The places where the strips of flesh were missing had been salted. They went all the way up to their underwear. At least whoever did this hadn’t hurt them there. Their stomachs, though, were apparently fair game. It had been sliced up in a grid pattern that would make healing much, much harder. Their arms had words carved into them deep; “slut”, “creep”, and “shithead” were the only three he could make out around the blood. Their faces, though, were easy to read. They had the word “freak” carved from cheekbone to cheekbone. Spike’s glasses were embedded into gaping holes where her eyes had once been, and TNT’s gills had been cut off completely.

Berry took in all of that in a handful of seconds. That was all he had before his magic rebelled and forced him to throw up everything he had eaten that day. The mess merged with the blood on the floor of the room to form a sickening tye-dye effect. He threw up again when he realised just how much blood there was.

By the time he had gathered himself enough to act it was too late. Berry unbent just in time to see the two monsters he loved the most, the two monsters who had pulled him out of his depression and saved his life, he saw those two monsters turn to dust. He gaped, unable to believe it. This couldn’t be real, right? They hadn’t just turned to dust. This was all just a big misunderstanding. He would wake up any minute now to Spike’s snores and TNT’s fond exasperation at those snores. Then he and TNT would tickle Spike mercilessly until she was fully awake. They’d all laugh and get out of bed and… and…

Berry shuddered when he looked back down and saw the blood. That was wrong, wasn’t it? Even if this was just a dream, he shouldn’t leave the floor looking this messy. He should at least try to clean it up, so he did.

That was how Stretch found him when he came back to gloat over their bodies. Seeing someone stuck in a cleaning fit was very familiar. Maybe he should have questioned it more, but, to him, it wasn’t out of the ordinary.

=====

Blue insisted on making sure that Scales was settled comfortably before letting them talk about anything else. It was hard for him to do; he wasn’t used to asserting himself like that. He managed it, though. It helped that he could put on his “doctor” voice. It also helped to know that these people were willing to be kind to him, even after knowing he’d been raped. That felt so alien to him that he didn’t really know what to do with it. The only thing he could do was hope it would last.

When Scales was safely set up in one of the beds down here in this hidden lab (who knew that there was a lab underneath the lab? He didn’t.), Blue gulped and faced the others. He could still feel the fire in his belly from hearing about what the King did here. He found the Royals so- so frustrating! Every decision that his Queen had ever made had hurt him. Her rules had ruined his life. Her refusal to pay for the damages of the accident had cost him his father. Her appointees to the Royal Guard had used their authority to rape him. Her arrogance had stopped him from saving thousands of lives. Why couldn’t they just be helpful? Was it really that hard?

“underfell to blue, can you hear me?” The words weren’t what smashed him out of his internal fit of fury. It was the poke that accompanied them. He definitely overreacted by flinching back and shaking with fear. Red looked at him with confusion, then shook it off. “i dunno where you went just then, bud, but scales wants to tell us her plan now. you good with that?”

Blue nodded slowly. He was just glad that Red wasn’t mad at him for overreacting. Stretch hated it when Blue overreacted in public.

Scales, propped up with more pillows than should rightly have been down here, coughed. “Well, three of you know the general plan for the revolution. Everyone hates the King, so it’ll be easy to convince them to stay home if we use Metta’s channel. The guards are already on our side, so it won’t be hard to get into the castle. The only part that we hadn’t worked out before was how we were going to subdue him long enough to shove him in the Void. I think Blue might be our answer to that.”

Blue’s head slowly tilted as he tried to figure out what she meant. Just the idea that there could even be a revolution was hard for him to grasp.

Fortunately, it wasn’t only Blue that was listening to Scales. “YOU MEAN THAT, IF WE SNEAK HIM INTO THE CASTLE, HE CAN SEDATE THE KING AND PUT HIM IN A COMA, RIGHT? HAVE YOU CHECKED HIM TO SEE IF HE’S UP FOR IT?”

Blue stiffened in real fear. “NO, NO, NO, PLEASE DON’T-” He was too late. His stats popped up for all of them to see.

“Blue - Underswap Sans” “The easiest friend you ever made. Rulebreaker for 17 years.”

1 LV 0.568 / 0.713 HP 90 / 90 MP

AT: 1 (-25) DF: 1 (0) EXP: 0 NEXT: 10

WEAPON: None (Healer!) ARMOUR: None

GOLD: 0

Silence reigned for several seconds as Blue started to tremble. They had seen. They had seen. They had seen they had seen they had seen they had-

The feeling of fear that overwhelmed him ran into the one obstacle he didn’t expect, although he probably should have, given that it had happened earlier. Three sets of arms wrapped around him in a hug. Three voices tried to sooth him. Eventually, a fourth voice broke through the bedlam due to sheer volume. “BLUE, WHY DO YOU HAVE SO LITTLE HP? THE ONLY MONSTER I KNOW HAS HAD LESS THAN 10 TOTAL HP IS RED, AND THAT WAS WHEN HE FIRST FELL DOWN HERE INTO THE UNDERGROUND. HOW DID YOU SURVIVE WITH LESS THAN ONE?”

Blue gulped. “I… REMEMBER HOW I SAID I WAS RAPED A LOT? I NEVER REALLY… GOT THE QUALITY OF MEDICAL CARE I SHOULD HAVE, SO I DIDN’T REALLY HEAL UP VERY WELL. IT’S… BEEN GOING DOWN LATELY, TOO,” ever since Stretch found out about his prostitution, actually, “BUT IT WAS AT 0.498 THE LAST TIME I CHECKED, SO IT’S… ACTUALLY GONE UP?”

Seven eyes stared at him. Red’s eyes were the most angry looking. Blue quaked before them. “lemme get this straight. a maximum of about seven tenths of a hp point is an improvement for you?”

Blue nodded, thinking through his next words carefully. “I’M JUST… WEAK. LIFE HAS BEEN HARD, AND I’VE TRIED MY HARDEST, BUT IT WAS HARD TO TAKE CARE OF MY LITTLE BROTHER ALL ON MY OWN. I TRIED TO RAISE HIM RIGHT, BUT, AS THINGS GOT HARDER… I STARTED TO LOSE HOPE. I WAS DETERMINED TO KEEP GOING FOR HIM, BUT… I GAVE UP HAVING ANY HOPES OF MY OWN WHEN THE QUEEN REFUSED TO SIGN THE LICENSE OF A FORMER PROSTITUTE.”

Red burst out laughing. Scales and Edge gave him an unamused stare. Felldyne looked like she wasn’t that far behind Red in the laughing department, and it was she who spoke. “Seriously? Even Fellgore didn’t care about me, and I did that to pay for my own house so I didn’t have to live with Gerson. Is that seriously why she refused to sign your license?”

Blue, blinking at her, nodded. “...ALMOST ENTIRELY, YES. SHE DIDN’T LIKE THAT I BROKE CURFEW AS A CHILD AT THE HOSPITAL, EITHER.”

Felldyne did chuckle then. “Sheesh, no wonder you hate her. If I were Empress I’d make you the Lead Healer in an instant. You helped Scales, you hate the Royal Family, and you’ve got enough spunk to compliment someone who could kill you with a sneeze. Definitely leadership quality. You wouldn’t happen to be looking for a job, would you? Once we pull this coop off I’m the next in line.”

Before Blue could jump on this opportunity, Red threw it away for him. “come on, dyne. he’s got a brother waiting for him back home. i know i’d give anything to get back to my bro if i lost him.”

Blue became aware of the way Felldyne was studying him. He shivered under that stare and the thought of going back to life with his… well, he couldn’t deny it anymore, could he? His abusive brother. He didn’t want to burden them with his problems, though. Not before he earned the right to call them friends. He had to help. “SO, WHAT’S THE PLAN ONCE I SEDATE YOUR KING? WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO WITH HIM?”

The others reluctantly (and not so reluctantly) accepted this change of subject. “WE’RE GOING TO SHOVE HIM INTO THE VOID, THE ULTIMATE PRISON SPACE WHERE NOT EVEN LIGHT CAN ESCAPE. IT’S WHERE THE KING SHOVED MY FATHER WHEN HE REFUSED TO LET HIM TAKE RED AND ME AWAY FROM HIM.”

Blue shivered. He knew who dwelled in the Void from back home, and he knew why. After all, he was the one who put River there. “ARE YOU SURE THERE ISN’T ANY OTHER WAY?”

They all nodded, but Red nodded more vigorously than the others. “that bastard has too much damned lv to put in a prison - he’ll just punch through the walls. can’t kill him neither, not without going lv crazy. no, we need to send him somewhere he can never get out.”

Blue sighed. “ALRIGHT. IF THAT’S THE ONLY WAY… I’LL HELP YOU WITH THE SEDATION AND ANY HEALING, NOT WITH ANYTHING ELSE. I’D ONLY GET IN THE WAY.”

#fellcest #underswap sans #underfell sans #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #grey fanfic #underswap alphys #underswap undyne #underfell alphys #underfell undyne #yastaghr

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mrfunnybone · 4 years

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THE POSITIVE & NEGATIVE; MUN & MUSE - MEME.

FILL OUT & REPOST ♥ This meme definitely favors canons more, but I hope OC’s still can make it somehow work with their own lore, and lil’ fandom of friends & mutuals. Multi-Muses pick the muse you are the most invested in atm. TAGGED BY: Stolen from @battleshell TAGGING: @ladydreemurr @wdvoided @puzzlebones @flametendingbartender, @the-judge-of-bones @witchandateashop, and @bravest

MY MUSE IS: CANON / oc / au / canon-divergent / fandomless / complicated

Is your character popular in the fandom? YES / NO. [Some would say overly so.]

Is your character considered hot™ in the fandom? YES / NO / IDK. [ somehow...yes? Apparently?]

Is your character considered strong in the fandom? YES / NO / IDK. [ Yes. Most players agree that Sans fight is one of the toughest in the game, and the Gaster Blasters do pack a punch.]

Are they underrated? YES / NO / IDK. [ Underrated? Certainly not. Overrated? Hmm..]

Were they relevant for the main story? YES / NO [Hot take, but as of now, there are no CANON facts 100% supporting the idea that Sans was tied to main story plot elements. If you took him out, the actual story wouldn’t change much, you would just go straight to Asgore’s fight. ]

Were they relevant for the main character? YES / NO / THEY’RE THE PROTAG. [ Sans is one of the main monsters that the MC interacts with, and acts as the Judge near the end of the game, which reveals a lot of unknown information to the MC.]

Are they widely known in their world? YES / NO. [ The scene in Grillby’s seems to suggest that, at least in Snowdin, Sans is well-known and well-liked.]

How’s their reputation? GOOD / BAD / NEUTRAL. [ While fellow Grillby customers and a few other Snowdin residents seem to like him, he’s also seen to irritate other characters with his laziness, bad jokes, or shenanigans. Even Undyne admits that she’d fire him, but he always manages to do the bare minimum to avoid it being justified.]

HOW STRICTLY DO YOU FOLLOW CANON? — I do! Though I also offer my own spin on San’s backstory and my own interpretation of canon hints.

SELL YOUR MUSE! AKA TRY TO LIST EVERYTHING, WHICH MAKES YOUR MUSE INTERESTING IN YOUR OPINION TO MAKE THEM SPICY FOR YOUR MUTUALS. — Jokes in the face of nihilism and a juxtaposition to the field of science, Sans is full of contradictions in a fairly entertaining and interesting way. He appears to be incredibly intelligent, but talks and dresses like he’s any ol’ joe. He appears to have symptoms of depression but still acts fairly chummy. He is both one of the hardest fights you’ll apparently face and yet only needs one hit to be defeated. Sans apparently cares for nothing and yet also holds his brother in very high esteem. He appears difficult to get close to, yet he bonded with a stranger over bad jokes and kept a promise to her even though he never even knew her name. Sans can be defined by both what he is and what he appears to be.

NOW THE OPPOSITE, LIST EVERYTHING WHY YOUR MUSE COULD NOT BE SO INTERESTING (EVEN IF YOU MAY NOT AGREE, WHAT DOES THE FANDOM PERHAPS THINK?). — Sans is credited with far more than he’s actually due by the fandom. He doesn’t seem to really care for you, the player, like Toriel or other monsters do. He’s not a hero, past or present, like Gerson or Undyne. He doesn’t really help avoid the player getting hurt or captured like Papyrus does. He doesn’t push the plot forward and he doesn’t take action; as a character, Sans is purely reactive, and if he were the Main Character, that would be a huge flaw.

WHAT INSPIRED YOU TO RP YOUR MUSE? — I first joined the Tumblr RPC as a Frisk RP Blog, way back in the day, and that was because I stumbled across a Sans RP blog that I found very interesting. This character that I had largely not put too much thought in during the game suddenly had a very complex narrative and I loved reading his dialogue (it didn’t hurt that the mun was clearly a talented writer). Eventually, I realized I wanted to try my hand at writing him too, and so I started my own Sans RP blog.

WHAT KEEPS YOUR INSPIRATION GOING? — you guys. The fandom, the artists, the other Sans/Undertale RP blogs, the fanfiction authors— when I start getting bored or stale, you suddenly present this indie game, and by extension Sans, in a new angle that draws me back in. Thank you.

SOME MORE PERSONAL QUESTIONS FOR THE MUN.

Give your mutuals some insight about the way you are in some matters, which could lead them to get more comfortable with you or perhaps not.

Do you think you give your character justice? YES / NO / I SINCERELY HOPE I DO? [ Some of my old favorites in the Sans RP game, I think, did a bit better job of consistently getting his character right. Still, I hope I give him justice too.]

Do you frequently write headcanons? YES / NO / SORT OF?

Do you sometimes write drabbles? YES / NO

Do you think a lot about your Muse during the day? YES / NO [ Often! When I’m actively writing him, anyway.]

Are you confident in your portrayal? YES / NO / SORT OF? [ I am! Like I said, I think there have been others who did it better, but I wouldn’t say my portrayal is bad.]

Are you confident in your writing? YES / NO. [ Most of the time! Sometimes I get writer's anxiety, and it doesn’t help that Tumblr gets me at my rawest. I have no editor, my posts normally receive just a brief proof-reading, and I’m sometimes experimenting for the first time with a particular genre/scene/style. I wouldn’t point to all of my writing here as my best or strongest work, but I can write solid stuff.]

Are you a sensitive person? YES / NO. / SORTA. [ I wouldn’t say I’m sensitive in terms of people criticizing me, personally, but I am sensitive to other people. When something bad or unfair happens to someone, I usually feel upset for them. It can get very emotionally exhausting.]

DO YOU ACCEPT CRITICISM WELL ABOUT YOUR PORTRAYAL? — I would say so! In general, I’m used to critiques for both writing and art, as I’ve taken courses that incorporated both heavily.

DO YOU LIKE QUESTIONS, WHICH HELP YOU EXPLORE YOUR CHARACTER? — Absolutely!

IF SOMEONE DISAGREES TO A HEADCANON OF YOURS, DO YOU WANT TO KNOW WHY? — Not necessarily! I’m always interested in hearing different takes, but if someone said, “I don’t agree,” and didn’t follow up with an explanation on their own, I wouldn’t ask for one.

IF SOMEONE DISAGREES WITH YOUR PORTRAYAL, HOW WOULD YOU TAKE IT? — Kind of the same as above. I would be interested in hearing why if they offered up why, but otherwise, I’m not really going to ask because they don’t OWE ME an explanation. For example, I like a lot of books, and I don’t like a lot of books, and that’s not really a judge of their quality as much as it is my own personal taste. Number one rule as a writer, you have to learn and accept that your stuff won’t appeal to everyone.

IF SOMEONE REALLY HATES YOUR CHARACTER, HOW DO YOU TAKE IT? — I get it, haha. Characters that are hyped up like Sans are easy to get annoyed by. Even if he wasn’t hyped up, though, again, it makes sense that someone wouldn’t like him. Just like a book, a character can’t appeal to everyone.

ARE YOU OKAY WITH PEOPLE POINTING OUT YOUR GRAMMATICAL ERRORS? — Please do! It’s embarrassing when I catch them later, hahaha.

DO YOU THINK YOU ARE EASY GOING AS A MUN? — I think so! I try to be, anyway. Sometimes I worry I’m too casual with slipping into IM’s or commenting on posts, but so far I don’t think I’ve scared anyone off, so that’s good.

#TBT #|| memes ||#|| character analysis ||

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saint-hildegard-of-bingen · 5 years

Link

If you love our country, please read this article, and continue to work to save our democracy. And stay hopeful!

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The despair felt by climate scientists and environmentalists watching helplessly as something precious and irreplaceable is destroyed is sometimes described as “climate grief.” Those who pay close attention to the ecological calamity that civilization is inflicting upon itself frequently describe feelings of rage, anxiety and bottomless loss, all of which are amplified by the right’s willful denial. The young activist Greta Thunberg, Time magazine’s 2019 Person of the Year, has described falling into a deep depressionafter grasping the ramifications of climate change and the utter refusal of people in power to rise to the occasion: “If burning fossil fuels was so bad that it threatened our very existence, how could we just continue like before?”

Lately, I think I’m experiencing democracy grief. For anyone who was, like me, born after the civil rights movement finally made democracy in America real, liberal democracy has always been part of the climate, as easy to take for granted as clean air or the changing of the seasons. When I contemplate the sort of illiberal oligarchy that would await my children should Donald Trump win another term, the scale of the loss feels so vast that I can barely process it.

After Trump’s election, a number of historians and political scientists rushed out with books explaining, as one title put it, “How Democracies Die.” In the years since, it’s breathtaking how much is dead already. Though the president will almost certainly be impeached for extorting Ukraine to aid his re-election, he is equally certain to be acquitted in the Senate, a tacit confirmation that he is, indeed, above the law. His attorney general is a shameless partisan enforcer. Professional civil servants are purged, replaced by apparatchiks. The courts are filling up with young, hard-right ideologues. One recently confirmed judge, 40-year-old Steven Menashi, has written approvingly of ethnonationalism.

In “How Democracies Die,” Professors Steven Levitsky and Daniel Ziblatt of Harvard describe how, in failing democracies, “the referees of the democratic game were brought over to the government’s side, providing the incumbent with both a shield against constitutional challenges and a powerful — and ‘legal’ — weapon with which to assault its opponents.” This is happening before our eyes.

The entire Trump presidency has been marked, for many of us who are part of the plurality that despises it, by anxiety and anger. But lately I’ve noticed, and not just in myself, a demoralizing degree of fear, even depression. You can see it online, in the self-protective cynicism of liberals announcing on Twitter that Trump is going to win re-election. In The Washington Post, Michael Gerson, a former speechwriter for George W. Bush and a Never Trump conservative, described his spiritual struggle against feelings of political desperation: “Sustaining this type of distressed uncertainty for long periods, I can attest, is like putting arsenic in your saltshaker.”

I reached out to a number of therapists, who said they’re seeing this politically induced misery in their patients. Three years ago, said Karen Starr, a psychologist who practices in Manhattan and on Long Island, some of her patients were “in a state of alarm,” but that’s changed into “more of a chronic feeling that’s bordering on despair.” Among those most affected, she said, are the Holocaust survivors she sees. “It’s about this general feeling that the institutions that we rely on to protect us from a dangerous individual might fail,” she said.

Kimberly Grocher, a psychotherapist who works in both New York and South Florida, and whose clients are primarily women of color, told me that during her sessions, the political situation “is always in the room. It’s always in the room.” Trump, she said, has made bigotry more open and acceptable, something her patients feel in their daily lives. “When you’re dealing with people of color’s mental health, systemic racism is a big part of that,” she said.

In April 2017, I traveled to suburban Atlanta to cover the special election in the Sixth Congressional District. Meeting women there who had been shocked by Trump’s election into ceaseless political action made me optimistic for the first time that year. These women were ultimately the reason that the district, once represented by Newt Gingrich, is now represented by a Democrat, Lucy McBath. Recently, I got back in touch with a woman I’d met there, an army veteran and mother of three named Katie Landsman. She was in a dark place.

“It’s like watching someone you love die of a wasting disease,” she said, speaking of our country. “Each day, you still have that little hope no matter what happens, you’re always going to have that little hope that everything’s going to turn out O.K., but every day it seems like we get hit by something else.” Some mornings, she said, it’s hard to get out of bed. “It doesn’t feel like depression,” she said. “It really does feel more like grief.”

Obviously, this is hardly the first time that America has failed to live up to its ideals. But the ideals themselves used to be a nearly universal lodestar. The civil rights movement, and freedom movements that came after it, succeeded because the country could be shamed by the distance between its democratic promises and its reality. That is no longer true.

Democrats and anti-Trump Republicans are often incredulous seeing the party of Ronald Reagan allied with Vladimir Putin’s Russia, but the truth is, there’s no reason they should be in conflict. The enmity between America and Russia was ideological. First it was liberal democracy versus communism. Then it was liberal democracy versus authoritarian kleptocracy.

But Trump’s political movement is pro-authoritarian and pro-oligarch. It has no interest in preserving pluralism, free and fair elections or any version of the rule of law that applies to the powerful as well as the powerless. It’s contemptuous of the notion of America as a lofty idea rather than a blood-and-soil nation. Russia, which has long wanted to prove that liberal democracy is a hypocritical sham, is the natural friend of the Trumpist Republican Party, just as it’s an ally and benefactor of the far right Rassemblement National in France and the Lega Nord in Italy.

The nemeses of the Trumpist movement are liberals — in both the classical and American sense of the world — not America’s traditional geopolitical foes. This is something new in our lifetime. Despite right-wing persecution fantasies about Barack Obama, we’ve never before had a president who treats half the country like enemies, subjecting them to an unending barrage of dehumanization and hostile propaganda. Opponents in a liberal political system share at least some overlapping language. They have some shared values to orient debates. With those things gone, words lose their meaning and political exchange becomes impossible and irrelevant.

Thus we have a total breakdown in epistemological solidarity. In the impeachment committee hearings, Republicans insist with straight faces that Trump was deeply concerned about corruption in Ukraine. Republican senators like Ted Cruz of Texas, who is smart enough to know better, repeat Russian propaganda accusing Ukraine of interfering in the 2016 election. The Department of Justice’s inspector general’s report refutes years of Republican deep state conspiracy theories about an F.B.I. plot to subvert Trump’s campaign, and it makes no difference whatsoever to the promoters of those theories, who pronounce themselves totally vindicated.

To those who recognize the Trump administration’s official lies as such, the scale of dishonesty can be destabilizing. It’s a psychic tax on the population, who must parse an avalanche of untruths to understand current events. “What’s going on in the government is so extreme, that people who have no history of overwhelming psychological trauma still feel crazed by this,” said Stephanie Engel, a psychiatrist in Cambridge, Mass., who said Trump comes up “very frequently” in her sessions.

Like several therapists I spoke to, Engel said she’s had to rethink how she practices, because she has no clinical distance from the things that are terrifying her patients. “If we continue to present a facade — that we know how to manage this ourselves, and we’re not worried about our grandchildren, or we’re not worried about how we’re going to live our lives if he wins the next election — we’re not doing our patients a service,” she said.

This kind of political suffering is uncomfortable to write about, because liberal misery is the raison d’être of the MAGA movement. When Trumpists mock their enemies for being “triggered,” it’s just a quasi-adult version of the playground bully’s jeer: “What are you going to do, cry?” Anyone who has ever been bullied knows how important it is, at that moment, to choke back tears. In truth, there are few bigger snowflakes than the stars of MAGA world. The Trumpist pundit Dan Bongino is currently suing The Daily Beast for $15 million, saying it inflicted “emotional distress and trauma, insult, anguish,” for writing that NRATV, the National Rifle Association’s now defunct online media arm, had “dropped” him when the show he hosted ended. Still, a movement fueled by sadism will delight in admissions that it has caused pain.

But despair is worth discussing, because it’s something that organizers and Democratic candidates should be addressing head on. Left to fester, it can lead to apathy and withdrawal. Channeled properly, it can fuel an uprising. I was relieved to hear that despite her sometimes overwhelming sense of civic sadness, Landsman’s activism hasn’t let up. She’s been spending a bit less than 20 hours a week on political organizing, and expects to go back to 40 or more after the holidays. “The only other option is to quit and accept it, and I’m not ready to go there yet,” she said. Democracy grief isn’t like regular grief. Acceptance isn’t how you move on from it. Acceptance is itself a kind of death.

#rumors and misinformation #dump trump #keep america great

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sandian-sherwood-uhle-blog · 6 years

Text

DELTARUNE

So, there are plenty of allusions/paralles to Undertale in Deltarune and some easter eggs. I’ve made a list of the ones that I managed to find/catch. I’m pretty sure there are more of them.

1. There is an easter egg with naming your vessel and yourself. Like in Undertale using names of characters from the game will trigger a special dialogue (and like in Undertale naming your vessel or yourself “Gaster” will close the game).

2. When you look through the window in your room there is reference to Sans’ genocide fight.

3. A reference to Tsundere Cactus from Undertale, but in Deltarune it’s just an average cactus.

4. Recognizing yourself in the mirror.

5. Toriel hugs Kris almost the same way she hugs Frisk.

6. Alphys is still a weeaboo obsessed with Mew Mew ^^

7. Temmie still has the EG, but this time she is a partner not a proud parent.

8. If you try using your phone in the Dark World it will start making “Gaster noises”.

9. Ralsei’s cloak resembels the one that River Person wears (could River Person be a Darkner?)

10. Lancer’s bike might be a reference to Sans’ bike from the True Pacifist credit scene.

11. How Ralsei introduces us to the game mechanics is like a combination of both Flowey’s and Toriel’s tutorials. Telling what a soul is and how the fighting works is “Flowey’s part” and usage of Dummy and sparing being a preferable option is “Toriel’s part”.

12. Possibly a parallel to comforting a goatbro (Ralsei is a Goat/Boss Monster and a prince just like Asriel).

13. The shopkeepr hints a secret battle with Jevil in the early stage of the game.

15. The plush that Seam has on a shelf has is a reference to one of the Temmie Chang’s (she helped Toby create Undertale) characters, but I couldn’t find a picture of it.

16. Seam also gives us hints that Jevil knows Gaster. Here’s a video with a full dialogue: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7PukI_JTyVg

17. The crown that K. Round wears might be reference to Super Crown, but the way it works is a ref to the big shroom power up. The sound that K. Round makes while growing up and shrinking is very similar to the sound from Mario games.

18. It is surely a reference to Sans’ room door (the weird glow), but it may also have something to do with Gaster’s grey door.

19. The sequence that Lancer and Susie perform is possibly a reference to Team R’s sequence from Pokemon series.

20. Possibly an Undertale Yellow easter egg? (the main charater is named Clover in UT:Y)

21. Even if you got rid of that tree you can still interact with it and get the dialogie box.

22. Lancer misses his attacks on Susie the same way Toriel does that when Frisk has low HP.

23. The theme that plays on floor ?????? inside the Card Castle uses the leitmotif of Gaster’s Theme. (can’t find a link with the theme)

24. A reference to Patrick from cartoon “Spongebob Squarepants”. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KNZSXnrbs_k

25. Another Pokemon’s reference.

26. You can interact with these pictures, when you interact with all 3 of them they’ll make a splat noise. I’m not sure if it does anything else.

27. Lancer has the same weird pics in his room, you can interact with them too, but they won’t make splat noise. But on the other hand there are CDs with recorded splat noises (the same that 3 previous pics make).

28. She talks about the cake that Susie ate ealier.

29. A missing pixel lmao

30. The cards and chess are references to the enemies from Dark World. There’s also a plushie of Shopkeer Seam under the board.

31. Kris looks similar to unused Frisk sprite.

32. The word “library” is still misspelled.

33. Temmie still wants to go to colleg. That’s the spirit!

34. Apparently Alphys prefers Mew Mew 2 now.

35. Heats Flamesman reference.

36. Just Toby at work.

37. He’s slacking off however.

38. We finally know after which monster Gaster Follower 3 was modeled.

39. Deltarune is definitely a different universe/timeline, cause Undyne doesn’t know Alphys and she still has both eyes. Also Bratty and Catty not only barely know each other, but they hate each other as well (in Undertale they are best friends).

40. On the left - dude who bought Muffet’s donut and regreted that later on, on the right - that weirdo from Napstablook’s snail farm.

41. Police station and Undyne’s house share the same doormat.

42. The big mouth monster that was spending time at Grillby’s, also a possible reference to nurse Joy from Pokemon series.

43. A reference to the absurdly tall sink from skelebros’ house. (also that blue bear might be inspired by 5.0.5 from Villainous)

44. Gerson is dead in Deltarune, also his last name is Boom. The hammer on his tombstone refers to his “nickname from war times” from Undertale - Hammer of Justice.

45. The tombstones of monster who were amalgamates in original Undertale, but since in Deltarune Alphys was never a Royal Scientist, all of this monsters just died. From left to right - Snowdrake’s Mother, the dog (Endogeny), Shyren sister (Lemon Bread).

46. Hand Receptionist from MTT Resort and politics bear from Snowdin.

47. That weird cube-dog-like monster from Sans’ crossword.

48. A reference to Purple Guy from game series FNAF (in Deltarune Burgerpants works at Pizzeria after all, hello?! it must be it xD).

49. A bunny shopkeepr from Snowdin, the guy who works in Core, the Ice Wolf (and he finally has pants as he wanted), Fuku Fire and Skateboard girl (but they already graduated), the lion monster who is a fan of Mettaton and gets a dress from him after his musical, and the dragon dude who couldn’t return to his family cause the elevator at MTT Resort was turned off.

50. Sans’ store is literally Grillby’s bar, but the name “Grillby” was removed and Sans added “ans” to the letter “S”. But he didn’t remove apostrophe. Well done Sans, well done.

51. A reference to Spider-Man, “I’m your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man”. Sans even calls Kris “tiger” which is how MJ calls Peter (I forgot to make a screenshot of it tho).

52. F#ck you Sans xD

53. “trousle of bones” - it obviously refers to Papyrus’ theme Bonetrousle.

54. Little bunny in the window is a child of that bunny monster who runs Snowdin Inn.

55. A monster from Snowdin who loves knocks lives there. And apparently Kris is not as good at knocking as Frisk is.

56. In the alley where you meet Alphys again there is a painting of Everyman (attack of Reaper Bird - one of the amalgamates). You can’t escape from your sins Alphys, even in another universe/timeline.

57. Asgore’s introduction dialogue in Deltarune is literally the same as in Undertale.

58. These flowers are an obvious allusion/parallel to the souls containers. The golden flower in the middle might be representing the empty container for Frisk’s determination soul. If you remember, in Undertale Alphys used a golden flower as a empty vessel to inject determination and that flower became Flowey later on.

59. RG01 and RG02 are still together, and for some reason they are still wearing helmets even tho the Royal Guard is most likely not a thing in Deltarune xD

60. If you wait long enough by the lake Onionsan will appear. He will ask what’s our name and will want to become friends. He also doesn’t remember his own name due to being alone for too long, so we have an option to gave him one.

61. He also might have a dark secret hehe

62. So there is most likely Mettaton, but we have no idea what’s up with Blooky. I’m hoping that in chapter 2 we will find out Mettaton’s canon ghost form and maybe his real name. Also I doubt that in Deltarune Mettaton has machine body, since Alphys never was a Royal Scientist in this universe/timeline.

63. Chara possession much? also a hint to the ending of Deltarune chapter 1

64. After Kris locks his soul in the cage you can still move it, but you can’t escape.

65. The glowing red eyes, Post Genocide Pacifist vibes are strong in this one.

These are all the allusions/parallel and easter eggs I was able to find. I’m sure there are more. Also there are some that I forgot to screenshot such as “characters titles” in party menu change: - Kris has a title of Leader, but if you check all 4 beds in Card Castle he has a title of Bed Inspector - Ralsei title changes after giving him different scarf There’s also at least one Annoying Dog easter egg in the party menu. Not to mention the anagrams: Deltarune - Undertale Ralsei - Asriel So yeah, that’s all folks. Hope you enjoyed, bye!

#deltarune #undertale #tobyfox #kris #ralsei #susie #gaster #allusions #parallels #eastereggs

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evenmywordsare · 5 years

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If you want can you do 📂 for the Alphyne wedding? I love your post about Undyne wearing armour for it and I gotta know more

ohhh. buddy. oh buddy. buddy. you have no idea.

- it takes place 4 years after the barrier broke (frisk is around 14)

- alphys was the one who proposed. she and mettaton had been trying to come up with the perfect way to do it for ages but one evening she and undyne were on a walk and they passed the beach where they’d had their first date, and alphys just stopped and stared and undyne was like “babe what’s wrong?” and then alphys just blurted the question out and proceeded to ramble and stutter until undyne scooped her up in a hug and said yes

- in initial planning the wedding was supposed to be a really simple thing but then mettaton got involved (naturally) and it became a gigantic Thing (naturally)

- but he did use mtt brand to fund the whole entire thing so undyne and alphys could not complain.

- mtt picked white, dark purple, and hot pink as the colour scheme, decided it would be outside by the lake, and at one point was going to go ahead an invite literally every monster from the underground but both undyne and alphys vetoed that and managed to get him down to just town residents.

- alphys picked out a shiny white suit, but undyne was determined to wear her full armour for the ceremony much to mettaton’s chagrin. there was no convincing her otherwise, but the compromise was that undyne would wear a white suit to match alphys at least for the reception.

- sans was just going to show up wearing his usual hoodie and shorts combo but papyrus convinced him otherwise at the last minute and got him into a suit (with an untied bowtie around his neck lol) papyrus himself was part of the overdressed squad with mettaton cause he rolled up with a tacky top hat and a fancy scarf and all that. mtt wore a very fancy suit that was entirely pink

- toriel wore a tux with tails and she looked really good.. frisk wore a matching tail coat, but over top of a white dress cause they couldn’t decide what they wanted to wear. honestly they looked cute.

- the day of was really stormy with gray cloudcover for most of the morning. neither undyne or alphys wanted to cancel, so everyone was just really hoping that it would NOT rain. it did make the sky look really cool though, according to undyne.

- sans sold snacks and refreshments right before the ceremony and made a pretty good amount of sales actually. undyne probably could have smacked him but alphys just found it funny

- queen toriel officiated, gerson walked undyne down the aisle, frisk was the ring bearer, and monster kid was the flower person. since mk doesn’t have arms they just kinda shook the basket around, it was good enough

- undyne was REALLY intense and literally shouted her vows with unmatched passion and there were lots of dramatic hand gestures and fist pumping. alphys, on the other hand, stumbled through hers but everyone was patient

- speaking of alphys’ vows……. undyne actually teared up during them. everyone watching was just fucking STUNNED because no one, absolutely NO ONE, had EVER seen undyne cry. some are still unconvinced it happened.

- aaaaand then it started to rain. hard. it was a complete deluge with thunder and lighting and undyne thought it was fuckin awesome. they all had to run inside though lol. undyne and alphys and everyone got soaked but they all just laughed about it.

- the reception was supposed to be this beautiful outside set up but it was raining too hard so they moved it inside to the only available space: the gym at toriel’s school. mettaton did his best to decorate but it looked. like a prom.

- anyway at the reception frisk went around with toriel’s camera videotaping practically everything much to the annoyance of practically everyone.

- toriel did the cake, papyrus made the most gorgeous looking spaghetti but it tasted. terrible. the snowdin shopkeeper brought cinnamon bunnies and muffet brought donuts and cider.

- susie was there and had already eaten half the deserts (along with the plates) about five minutes into the reception. she was then directed to hang out with frisk, noelle, and mk and she threatened to beat them up but, frisk being frisk, they managed to forge a tentative peace and they played head’s up on noelle’s phone

- papyrus was the best man! his speech was about an hour long and was filled mostly with various anecdotes about his and undyne’s friendship. it was actually quite funny for the most part

- mettaton also did a speech where he talked about alphys’ many scientific accomplishments and also called her a weeb but also his best friend and by the end it was actually?? pretty touching??

- all the amalgamates and their families brought alphys gifts and cards reaffirming that they forgive her

- undyne just fucking whipped the bouquet but mettaton decided he wanted to be fancy and so dramatically caught it……. having absolutely not a single clue what it means. then papyrus is like nyeh heh heh! funny that you caught it mettaton cause that means you’re the next one who gets married! and mtt is just looking at him like haha yeah that would be,, hilarious,

- napstablook was the dj and the first dance of the night was to the mew mew kissy cutie theme song. it’s a bop. and alphys got REALLY into it and was doing all sorts of just ridiculous embarrassing dance moves………. and frisk………. may have………….. filmed it……..

- mettaton, shyren, napstablook, and lemon bread got up as a band and did a few songs and they were very very good. even undyne who usually hates mtt’s music was jamming… you know when you’re just super happy and u can’t help but bop to even the crappiest pop song? that was her.

- the reception was also where papyrus, with some encouragement from both undyne and alphys, finally made a move with mettaton… some sappy slow song came on and pap asked (well, more like dramatically challenged) him to dance. mettaton just about died but they had a very awkward slow dance and mettaton mostly stared off to the side at the floor the whole time cause he was losing his shit

- and toriel may have danced with the snowdin shopkeeper…….

- toriel and sans would NOT stop with the wedding puns good god. their meme mom and meme son dynamic is already pretty unstoppable but this was something else and they drove everyone nuts.

- toward the end alphys and sans were tired out and just sittin at the bar together. they did a toast to gaster and all their old colleagues, wherever the hell they are.

- everyone went home and they lived happily ever after the end

#YEAH UH I DON’T THINK ABOUT THIS GAME MUCH #alphyne #pie posts #pie headcanons #ask #post pacifist shit

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danguy96 · 5 years

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Undertale Dream Voice Cast

I know it’s a little late to do something like this, but in case Undertale ever does get something like an animated series on Netflix or something, here’s some personal picks I have in mind for the voice cast, and sometimes even what kind of voices I have in mind for them.

So, here it goes:

Flowey - Tom Kenny (sort of sounds like Spongebob, but becomes more “twisted” and sinister after he reveals his true colors)

Toriel - A tie between Susan Egan, Teresa Gallagher, or Nicole Oliver

Sans - Bill Fagerbakke (Who else could it be? Although, it’d sound more like if Patrick were just laid back and lazy, and less on the stupid side)

Papyrus - Either Richard Horvitz or Rob Paulsen, but either choice needs to do a vague Skeletor impression

Undyne - Either Maryke Hendrikse (Revy from Black Lagoon), Jennifer Hale, or Erica Mendez doing a slightly gruffer Ryuko Matoi

Alphys - Minty Lewis (Eileen from Regular Show), Kari Walgreen, Shelby Rabara (Peridot, but less assertive and bit stuttery), or Lara Jill Miller (sounding like a slightly less high-pitched Lisa Loud, and without the lisp)

Mettaton - Eric Stuart or J. Michael Tatum, on the voice acting side of things, but if I had to pick someone else outside of mainly voice actors, I’d have to pick Christian Borle

Asgore - Patrick Page (I know there are other choices like Kevin Michael Richardson, Fred Tatasciore, and Travis Willingham, but after hearing him in the Broadway cast recording of Hadestown, I think he’d be a great choice). Other than him, Clancy Brown is another good choice.

Gerson - Bill Farmer (basically Hop Pop from Amphibia)

Muffet - Grey Griffin/DeLisle or Andrea Libman, in one of the most “cutesy”, faux-polite voices either can manage

Burgerpants - Alex Hirsch, sounding almost exactly like Grunkle Stan (the joke being that working at MTT-Brand Burger Emporium has aged his voice, even though he’s 19)

Grilby - Ted Danson (the joke would be that he still has only one or two lines of spoken dialogue)

Napstablook - Not quite sure, but two choices was Phill LaMarr, sounding like a more openly depressed Wilt from Foster’s Home for Imaginary Friends, or Jason Ritter sounding a bit like Dipper Pines, only grown-up and depressed. Oh, and as suggested by one friend, Aaron Dismuke is another pick which could work.

As for kid characters like Frisk, Chara, Asriel, and Monster Kid, I was thinking for the latter two, I’d actually get either actual child/teen voice actors to voice the latter two, or at least someone who can sound like a young kid (two choices I had off the top of my head I had for the voice of Asriel were Nicholas Cantu,one of the actors who played Gumball in the Amazing World of Gumball, Zach Callison, with a voice which could sound like a slightly less deep voice for post-time skip Steven).

In Frisk and Chara’s case, I was thinking they’d be voiced by the same person, but Frisk wouldn’t really fully speak until at the end of the series, and to tell them apart, their voices would still have some differences to them, in spite of being played by the same person (for example, Chara’s voice in flashbacks sounds a bit more bitter than what we first hear of Frisk’s voice, from the years of abuse they faced on the surface, even sounding slightly “gruffer” at times). Both of them would also be played by a voice actress who can make it seem like either a girl’s voice or a young boy’s, in order to keep the ambiguity of their gender.

One person I thought who could maybe take up the role of Frisk/Chara could be Christine Marie Cabanos (the voice of Madoka Kaname), but, again, they’d be directed to make it sound ambiguous as to whether either character is a boy or a girl, but they wouldn’t be too high-pitched.

There’s other characters too, but that’s all I can think of, right now.

Oh, and Bonus Voices:

Asriel’s God of Hyperdeath Form - Either Bryce Papenbrook or Yuri Lowenthal

Every Temmie (except Bob) - Temmie Chang

Bob the Temmie and the Annoying Dog - Toby Fox (the only thing Bob would say is “Hi, I’m Bob”, and the Annoying Dog only barks)

Dr. W.D. Gaster - Mark Hamill

Please share your thoughts on this, and if you have any suggestions of your own, especially for other minor characters, feel free to share them.

#Undertale

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popatochisssp · 6 years

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Fur a Good Time, Call... 4/15

Series: Undertale, Horrortale Relationship(s): HT!Sans/Reader, HT!Papyrus & Reader, HT!Sans & HT!Papyrus Chapter Warnings: none

You work at an animal shelter. You love all your fuzzy buddies and can’t imagine a better job for yourself than looking after cats and dogs all day, even when the work is hard and often gross. What can you say? You’ve got a lot of love to give!

You’re just not quite sure yet how you feel about the new monster who’s been helping out these days, and this riddle wrapped up in an enigma is something you just can’t resist investigating…

AO3 Link

Bone Appétit

You’d always known your lack of etiquette-related knowledge was going to get you into trouble.

…alright, well, maybe not always, but you’d had a feeling that not knowing Proper Adulting Protocols might be a problem for you at some point and done absolutely nothing about it, so your current predicament was entirely your fault.

It had all started with Papyrus.

You had sent him a text shortly after your first meeting, asking after his availability to meet up—and he’d immediately called you back.

Unlike his brother, who was happy to text at all hours of the day and night, it turned out that Papyrus was more of a phone person who would always just rather talk.

To be fair, it was a lot easier for you to tell him all about the nice little park nearby that you knew about over the phone, and it had made for a pretty damn cinematic reunion spot for you and Buddy when you all finally made time to meet.

It made you smile to remember the way your dog friend had gone absolutely fucking nuts when he saw you for the first time in over a week, wiggling and whining and straining so hard against his harness to get to you that if it had been anyone but Papyrus holding his leash, you might’ve been worried.

You’d already pretty much known it, but you’d since confirmed the undeniable truth: Papyrus was a really cool guy!

Your little park hangouts started to become a regular thing and even considering you had a dog as a social buffer, the conversation between you came so naturally that you think becoming friends with this skeleton was an inevitability, with or without Buddy.

Papyrus was genuinely incredible at carrying a conversation. He filled awkward spaces like a professional and introduced new topics with ease when the old ones dried up; things you felt you’d always struggled to do yourself. He was also a beacon of cheer and optimism the likes of which you’d never met and it seemed like just being near him was enough to brighten your mood on a rotten day.

That may have been another family trait. Sans had a similar effect on you, only he didn’t even have to be in the room with you to do it. You doubt that from anyone else, a picture of a baked potato fallen on the carpet and the single word ‘dang’ texted at 1:47 AM could’ve brought you to literal tears of laughter like it did coming from Sans.

You: Oh no, that’s so sad!

PUNbelievable: [IMG-42]

You: OMG, you’re still eating it?! Pick the dust-bunny off, first!

PUNbelievable: can’t, it’s fiber.

You: No!!!

Among other things, Sans was a great catalyst for a lot of your chats with Papyrus—when topics of his schoolwork got too technical for you to follow, or the latest news in monster politics and what negotiations King Gerson was involved in ran thin, Sans was always a staple to fall back on.

If Sans loved to gush about his brother, then Papyrus loved to gossip about his in equal measure, something you took full and shameless advantage of.

PUNbelievable: hey, why’d you tell Papyrus about the garlic powder sweetener thing? i thought we were cool?

You: You think you can put garlic in your coffee, choke on the first sip, and then try to insist to me that it’s better that way and down the whole thing and I WOULDN’T tell your brother you did it?

You: Besides, he told me how you only started drinking ketchup as a gag and then got hooked, I felt like I owed him a funny story back.

PUNbelievable: oh my god, you’re ganging up on me. i feel so attacked right now.

PUNbelievable: [IMG-54] look, your son is heartbroken that you could be so evil.

You: What were you holding above your head to make Buddy do that face for you?

PUNbelievable: pizza.

You: Well did you give him any?

PUNbelievable: lil bit.

It was talking about Sans that had gotten you into this situation, though.

“You Go To The Same Place For Lunch Every Day?” Papyrus had asked, somewhat incredulous. “Wowie, It Must Be Quite The Restaurant!”

You had paused in the middle of pressing smooches to Buddy’s forehead, turning to the big lanky skeleton squished onto the park bench beside you. “Well, it’s cheap,” you admitted, “which is most of it, but Sans and I really like it so yeah, I guess it’s good!”

Papyrus was suddenly squinting at you from behind his glasses. “Wait. Sans Likes It? Oh No, It’s A Grease-Trap, Isn’t It?”

“Ehhh…” You couldn’t really find the words to deny it. None that weren’t outright lies, anyway.

“Oh My God, That’s Terrible!” Papyrus lamented, a hand pressed dramatically to his skull. “You Can’t Live On Grease! Well… You Can, But You Really Shouldn’t! Do You At Least Eat Actual Food For Dinner?”

You had snorted, ruffling Buddy’s fur. “Actual food as opposed to… what, fake food?”

“Yes!” Papyrus had thrown a toy for Buddy to fetch and your only hope of distraction had practically sprinted out of your hands after it. “Frozen Meals, Microwaved Stuff, Things You’d See In A Gas Station Convenience Store And Wonder If It’s Marked Down So Low Because It Expired Two Years Ago.”

“………” Papyrus had just described half of your kitchen and pantry. “Well…”

“Oh My God,” he’d sighed. “I Suppose I Should’ve Known If You’re Friends With My Brother, But If You’re My Friend, Too, You Can’t Eat Garbage AllThe Time! I Can’t Allow It!”

Your little traitor returned and you’d busied your hands playing tug-of-war with his toy. “I don’t have many other options,” you told Papyrus. “I’m no chef and I like to have something actually edible after work, so it’s kinda pre-made or nothing.”

Papyrus had looked thoughtful for a long moment, and then settled firmly on a conclusion.

“Then You’re Coming Over To Our House For Dinner,” he’d declared. “When Are You Free?”

And that was the story of how you’d ended up here, at a nearby drugstore at what felt like the last possible moment, trying to figure out whether you were going to buy something or not.

You were pretty sure that housewarming gifts were still a thing, but Sans and Papyrus hadn’t just moved into their house. Were you still supposed to bring something?

It was your first time formally seeing the place, and you were going to be a dinner guest, so that was probably enough to warrant a gift…? Right?

You knew a bottle of wine was usually the go-to for things like this, but then also, neither of your friends had struck you as big drinkers. The last thing you wanted was to give them something they’d put in a cupboard and never use, but that also crossed off the only thing you knew for sure was generally expected and accepted.

You’d been aimlessly wandering around the store for awhile now, much longer than you’d wanted to be here when the whole gift-thing had occurred to you. If you kept this up, the employees were probably going to think you were here to steal something.

Okay, come on, you’re making this too hard. Just… get something small, you decided. Something they’d like, the first thing you see, just do it!

Papyrus ended up being easy enough to choose for once you forced yourself to stop over-thinking. A fuzzy desk succulent in a cute little pot had jumped out at you right away and it now sat innocently in your basket while you did one more lap around the store, looking for something to join it.

It was proving a lot harder to turn off your brain and just pick something for Sans, though, which frustrated you to no end.

(It had surely nothing at all to do with your very small and totally negligible crush on the guy, and how you wanted to somehow impress him with a thoughtful gift that you carefully chose in ten minutes on the way over to his house.)

Sans is a simple guy, you reasoned with yourself. This should be easy, just think of what he likes!

Well, obviously, Sans liked food, but it seemed a little gauche to bring snacks to a homemade dinner.

He liked cats, but there wasn’t exactly a surplus of cat-related merchandise here. Besides, it felt a little like a betrayal to bring a cat-thing to the house where your dog-son, as Sans kept insisting, lived full-time.

God, what else does he like?!

You were near some office supplies now and sighed deeply. You were unlikely to find anything good over here unless Sans had some deep, abiding love for colorful paperclips that he never told you about.

You had almost completely turned away from the aisle when you saw the basket of paperweights.

As soon as you picked up one of the smooth stones and read the ‘motivational’ text on it, you knew.

“It’s perfect.”

The weight plopped into your basket and you happily hurried up to the front to pay for your items.

All you had to do now was get there on time, and you were golden.

You actually managed to be early! Stress really did fudge your perception of time, apparently.

Papyrus had given you great directions and you found the house without any trouble. It was a little small but in good repair and in the middle of what seemed to be a very nice neighborhood.

You’d been assured you’d know which house to go to as soon as you saw it, and with the cute string of fairy lights wrapped decoratively around the fence of just one abode you were pretty sure you were in the right place.

With your gifts in hand you go up to the door and knock, hoping you’re not too early and no one’s ready to answer the door.

You shouldn’t have worried, of course: ‘too early’ is an oxymoron for Papyrus who throws the door open and greets you with his usual enthusiasm right away.

“Welcome To Our Home!” he says, ushering you inside. “It’s Such A Pleasure To Have You Over!”

“It’s a pleasure to be here,” you agree. You’d seen more of the inside of this place than the outside, through pictures, but it was so much nicer to see it in person. Their house had such a warm, homey vibe to it that just didn’t come through in background glimpses on your phone.

A vibe that was totally disrupted when Papyrus very loudly announced to no one that you’d arrived.

Oh, maybe not no one. The pronouncement of your name had claws skittering distantly on some tile and much, much closer the snort of somebody just waking up.

Buddy burst into the room to wiggle excitedly at your feet just in time for a very sleepy-looking Sans to sit up and lean over the couch he’d been napping on and wave a little ‘hey.’

He might’ve almost looked cool doing it if his hoodie-string hadn’t found its way into his eye-socket sometime during his nap and he had to awkwardly fish it out right in front of you.

“Sweet dreams?” you couldn’t help but tease.

“nah, i don’t dream,” Sans said distractedly. He spotted the objects in your hands. “what’cha got there?”

“Oh, I brought gifts!”

“Oh My Goodness, How Courteous,” Papyrus exclaimed. “You Certainly Didn’t Have To Do That!”

“They’re small,” you promised. “It’s just a little ‘thank you’ for having me over!”

You held out the succulent to Papyrus, who gasped loudly.

“Oh, Very Little!” He took it from you and held it up to admire it. The plant in its tiny ceramic pot had fit in your palm, but Papyrus could hold it in just the tips of his long bony fingers. “It’s So Cute! And Thoughtful! Thank You, I Love It!”

“Don’t thank me yet, you haven’t seen Sans’ gift.”

You passed the paperweight over to a curious Sans, still hanging over the back of the couch.

He took one look at it and immediately dissolved into ugly, wheezing laughter that made you downright giddy with pride.

While he was losing his shit, he helpfully flipped it over to show his brother the writing on it.

‘NOTHING IS WRITTEN IN STONE’

“Nyeh-Heh-Heh, Oh No, That’s Great, Too!” Papyrus assured you. “I Love Irony!”

“it’s perfect, i’ll cherish it forever.”

You smiled…and then the sight of Sans holding the rock sparked an elusive memory in your head.

“Like you cherished Rocky?”

Sans had been lucky until now. Even once you’d started hanging out with Papyrus on the regular, you always seemed to forget to ask about the fabled ex-pet and cursed yourself at home later for letting it slip your mind again and again.

Not this time!

“Oh My God, I Should’ve Known That Would Come Up Sooner Or Later.”

You watched Papyrus kneel, fondly brushing over Buddy’s fur. “Listen,” he said to you, very seriously. “I Promise You, You Don’t Have To Worry About Our Dog’s Safety.”

“…” Wait, what? “I don’t?”

“Not At All! Buddy Is Being Very Well Taken Care Of Here, I Am In Charge Of His Mealtimes,” he told you with a pointed glare at his brother. “And Buddy Is Never Outside Without A Leash Or In-Yard Supervision, So There Is No Chance Of A Rocky Repeat!”

…oh my god.

“Oh, that’s…good to know,” you managed to get out. “Very comforting.”

“Good, I Strive To Be Comforting At All Times!” Papyrus stood, his attention back on his new little succulent. “Please Excuse Me For A Moment, I Need To Put This Where It Will Get The Best Light.”

And then Papyrus went off to squirrel his gift away, totally oblivious to the turmoil he’d just caused in your mind.

“…………Oh my god.”

Sans lost it again, practically cackling at you even as he pocketed his newest rock.

“Rocky was real?!”

“i told you he was,” Sans snickered, shaking his head. “you really gotta start trustin’ me more, jeez.”

Your mind was blown. Your world-view shaken.

Clearly, the only solution was to pet a dog.

You went around to the front side of the couch and plopped down on the floor where Buddy immediately swarmed over to you now that you were on his level.

“Hi, Buddy, good boy,” you cooed, letting him sniff and lick at your face. “At least you make sense.”

You may have gotten a little absorbed in scritching and snuggling because eventually Sans interrupted. “hey, i’m here, too, y’know.”

You spared him a sidelong glance. “What, you want a belly rub, too? Ear scratch?”

“sounds like a neat trick, wanna try it?”

He actually leaned down a little bit, tilting his head in invitation. You laughed but…what the hell, why not? If he was cool with it…

You reach up and give the unbroken side of his head a little scratch. You think this might be the first time you’ve actually touched him without cloth in the way and the texture of his skull is a lot smoother than you would’ve guessed; more polished and almost soft. Your nails don’t catch on any scrapes or divots at all and you wonder if all his bones feel the same way.

Which is… wow, a lot more suggestive-sounding than you intended it.

Feeling needlessly bashful about it, you pull your hand back. “How was that?”

Sans didn’t seem quite so affected. “for an ear scratch with no ears involved? it was great, a for effort.”

“Gee thanks,” you scoffed. “See if I go for the belly rub after a rousing motivational speech like that!”

There’s not much small-talk to make waiting for Papyrus to get back. You had both just seen each other at the shelter earlier in the day and not much has come up to talk about in the handful of hours you’ve been apart.

Sans does tell you that his brother has been looking forward to this dinner all week, though, and he thanks you for coming.

Unnecessary, as far as you’re concerned. “What, like I’m gonna turn down dinner at my three best friends’ place? Come on.”

And oh, look at that, you’d made Sans blush again. Stars, it was downright adorable the way he turned blue and pretended like he totally wasn’t, with that shy little, ‘eheheheheh’ of his.

He really had to quit doing that. It wasn’t exactly helping you forget about your crush that definitely wasn’t a big deal at all.

Papyrus saved you both with his return. He didn’t ask or even seem to notice anything unusual about the fact that you were on the floor with the dog, and you admired his ability to roll with the punches.

“There, All Settled! Now, As Much As I Admire And Appreciate Your Earliness, It Does Mean That Dinner Isn’t Quite Ready Yet…”

“That’s fine, I’m not in a hurry!” you assured.

“Well, That’s Good, Because Even If You Were, It Wouldn’t Cook Any Faster!”

“Is there anything I can do to help out?”

Papyrus seemed visibly startled. “Really? You Want To?”

You shrugged. “I wouldn’t mind. I’m not great in the kitchen but I do have an extra pair of hands, if they’d help. Besides,” you added, “I think I’d get antsy sitting around not helping while you did all the work!”

Papyrus clasped his hands over his chest and fixed you with a beaming smile. “I Knew There Was A Reason I Liked You!” he said. “Sans, Take Notes, This Is The Thing You Need To Practice.”

At the mere mention of doing something, Sans flopped back onto the couch. “yeah, okay, cool, i’m note-taking right now.”

Papyrus squinted at him. “You’re Going To Sleep Again.”

“nah, i’m takin’ the notes on my eyelids.”

“You Don’t Even Have Eyelids!”

A loud snore was Sans’ response.

You laughed even as Papyrus let out the most comically frustrated noise you’d ever heard.

You’d only hung out with these guys separately before and you don’t think anything could’ve prepared you for how hilarious they were together.

“Come on, Pap,” you chuckle, getting to your feet. “Leave him be, he did some stuff at work today. Let’s go check on dinner.”

Papyrus relents and you follow him into the kitchen, where it looks like he’s making pasta.

You’re a little relieved—that’s a pretty easy dish that even you can help with, so you ask him what he’d like for you to do.

Your job, he tells you, is to watch the noodles and stir occasionally until they’re ready. He’ll be busy throwing together the accompanying salad, apparently made up of veggies from his very own garden.

If he was trying to impress you, he’s absolutely succeeded.

You alternate between watching the noodles cook and watching Papyrus chop fresh greens. His cuts are swift and even with obvious skill behind them and you feel like this man could’ve easily become a professional chef.

“Sans said you don’t cook much these days,” you said. “I think I feel a little honored that you’re doing it now just so I didn’t go home and eat a frozen gas station burrito instead.”

“Ugh.” Papyrus paused mid-slice, looking to the ceiling as if begging for divine intervention. “I Knew, I Knew You Were Eating Crud Like That.” He pointed the knife in his hand at you, mock-threatening. “You Better Not Let Me Catch You With That Garbage!”

You raised your hand, a parody of scouts’ honor. “I solemnly swear, Papyrus, you will not catch me.”

He sighed. “That’s The Best I’m Going To Get, Hmm?” You playfully shrugged and he went back to chopping a cucumber. “Well, Fine. But Of Course I’m Going To Cook If You’re Coming Over To Visit! It’s A Very Important Step In Friendship-Building, You Know!”

“Is it?”

“The Most Important! I Used To Make Spaghetti All The Time Underground, Literal Oodles Of Noodles! My Friend Taught Me The Recipe And Our Cooking Lessons Were Wonderful Bonding Experiences!”

“Wow, that must’ve been some good spaghetti.”

“Oh, Not At All,” Papyrus told you. “It Was Terrible, She Didn’t Know The Recipe, Either. But We Had Fun Making It Anyway!”

You stifled a laugh. “Why’d you keep making it if you guys didn’t even know how?”

“Cooking Underground Was Much Harder Than It Is Up Here, With All Your Syndicated Food Shows On TV And Those Recipe Blogs On Your Human Internet,” he said, flapping his hand dismissively. “We Had A Cooking Program That Aired Sometimes, But It Was Pretty…Erm…Unique. Not Very Replicable In One’s Own Home. And We Had The Undernet, But It Was A Lot Better For Social Media Than Anything Else. Basically, If You Wanted To Learn How To Make Something, Your Best Bet Was To Know Someone Who Already Knew How To Make It And Have Them Teach You.”

“And if you didn’t?” you wondered.

“Trial And Error! And Lots Of It!” He grinned a little. “Honestly, It Was Mostly Error, But It Was Hard Finding People To Taste-Test And Give Useful Suggestions. All I Had Was Sans, And I’m Sure You Know By Now, He’s Disgusting. I’ve Seen Him Eat Mayonnaise With A Spoon, Directly Out Of The Jar. I Can’t Rely On Anything He Says As Useful Critique!”

“Garlic coffee,” you agreed, sadly shaking your head.

“Nyeh-Heh-Heh, Exactly! Please Don’t Worry About The Quality Of This Spaghetti,” he added as an afterthought, “I’ve Studied Plenty Of Actual Recipes By Now With Only The Highest Amount Of Stars Given In Reviews!”

“I wasn’t worried. I’m sure Master Chef Papyrus has something great cooking, literally.”

He laughed but you could tell he was flattered and patted yourself on the back for making him happy.

It seemed to you that the noodles were just about done and Papyrus came to take over the pot from you when you said as much, because he didn’t have any skin to potentially scald with hot water— unlike your poor fragile human self.

You watched him drain the noodles in a steady, practiced motion, admiring his general grace when he spoke again.

“Not That You Asked, But I Prefer Not To Keep Many Secrets From My Friends And… Well, We Are Friends, Aren’t We?”

“Definitely,” you agreed in a heartbeat.

Papyrus smiled. “Then Because You’re My Friend, I Don’t Mind Telling You That The Reason I Don’t Cook As Much As I Used To Is That I Have Some…” He paused a moment. “Well, The Word My Therapist Used Was ‘Trigger,’ Is That A Term That People Use Outside Of Therapy?”

You try to school your expression to something neutral at the sudden turn. “Yeah, it is.”

“Then I Have Some Triggers That Are Kitchen-Related, So It’s Usually Just Easier To Avoid The Situation As A Whole. For Mental Health Reasons!”

Your neutral expression fails, crumpling into a concerned frown. “Papyrus, I don’t want you risking your mental health for my sake.”

“I’m Not!” he cheerfully assures you. “It’s Only Certain Things In The Kitchen, And This Is All Very Safe. I’ve Never Had A Reaction Around Vegetables Or Pasta… Which Is Great Because I’m Not Sure I’d Know What To Do With Myself If I Couldn’t Prepare My Signature Dish For My Very Cool Friend!”

That’s a relief. “Alright, as long as you’re not putting yourself out.”

(You realize, of course, by process of elimination, that raw meat is probably the thing that triggers Papyrus. You don’t need to ask why and you don’t intend to.)

“It’s nice to know you’re looking out for your mental health,” you add, with genuine sincerity. “Do you and Sans see the same person?”

“Hmm?”

“For therapy,” you explain. “Sans doesn’t come in to the shelter every day. Is he your ride to the office on the other days? Or… are you his? I feel like you would be his, I can’t imagine him taking on that much responsibility.”

Papyrus is…suspiciously quiet, busying himself with food-plating and not meeting your eye.

You backtrack a little. “You don’t have to answer or anything, if it’s private. I totally get that, no hard feelings…”

“Mmm…Sans…” Papyrus says haltingly, “Doesn’t Go. To Therapy.”

“…Oh.”

That… wow, that really sits badly with you.

Sans is a grown skeleton. You know that, of course you do, and you especially know that you have no authority whatsoever to tell him what he should or shouldn’t do. If he’s not seeing a therapist, that’s his business and should be totally fine.

But…

You saw the news reports. When monsters had first surfaced. The pictures that came out… of the monsters who’d escaped and the desolate, horrific prison they’d escaped from…

There was no other way to put it: it was bad and everything humanity had seen of it had only been the aftermath. You couldn’t even begin to imagine the kind of grisly day-to-day these poor people had suffered through and you weren’t alone in knowing that—there was a reason health care had been the quickest thing humanity facilitated for monsters, physical and mental.

The fact that your very good friend lived through the Underground and isn’t getting any kind of counseling…

It doesn’t feel right. You really don’t like it.

At the same time though, you’re not sure how you’d even begin to express that thought. Anything you can think to say would come off as the worst kind of pushy; like you could possibly know best at something you really knew nothing about, or had any kind of right to dictate what he should do just because you were friends.

Instead, you decide to just…bite your tongue.

Papyrus is far too sharp for you, though. Without you having to say a word, he seemed to read every thought in your facial expression with a single glance.

“No, I Know, I Agree,” he told you. “I Would Love For Him To See A Therapist, Too. It’s Really Helped Me, It Would Be Nice If He Could…. But Also…He Has His Reasons For Not Going. I Thought He Was Just Being Stubborn, At First, But… His Reasons Are Actually Good Ones.” Papyrus grimaced a bit, looking at you beseechingly. “You Said I Didn’t Have To Answer If It Was Private. Would You Be Satisfied If I Told You The Reasons Why Are Private?”

“Of course,” you agree immediately. You don’t understand what a good reason could be, in a situation like this, but if it’s private, you know it’s not your place to understand.

Papyrus looked infinitely relieved by your answer. “Then The Reasons Are Private. But, Don’t Worry Too Much About Sans, He’s Almost As Tough As I Am! He Really Has Been A Lot Better Lately, Even Just On His Own. Besides,” he added with a conspiratory smirk. “We Know He Has At Least Two Very Cool People Looking Out For Him If He Ever Needs It!”

“That…really does make me feel better,” you admit, smiling a little despite yourself. “Thanks, Papyrus.”

Sans was doing okay, you assured yourself, and if he ever wasn’t, you’d be there to help. You and Papyrus both!

You share that pleasant moment of solidarity and then you’re moving on. The food has to get to the dinner table somehow and tall as he is, Papyrus only has two hands and you’d promised him an extra set.

It makes you audibly snort in surprise when on the way, Papyrus wakes Sans by kicking the edge of the couch and yelling, “Sans, You Lazybones, Wake Up! Your Friend Is Over For The Very First Time And You’re Going To Snore On The Couch All Night?”

“nah, I can snore at the table, too,” Sans mutters, rubbing his face and finally rolling off the cushions onto his feet. “i’m versatile like that.”

“You’re Impossible, Is What You Are, You Bipedal Snail!”

The bickering is almost jarring from how warm and concerned Papyrus had been about Sans just a few minutes ago, but the affection in both moments is obvious enough, if you know where to look for it.

Little brothers, you think with amusement.

Sans meets your eye on the way to the table and you get the sense that he’s having the same thought. You share a smile and he shrugs as if to say, ‘what’re you gonna do?’ before you all sit down for a delicious meal.

You almost lose your mind when Papyrus places a bowl of kibble at the fourth place setting and Buddy hops up into a chair like he’s done it a million times before, chowing down with the rest of you.

You want to take approximately ten thousand pictures of it, but Papyrus wasn’t kidding when he said he’d been studying recipes so you also really do not want to stop eating what is probably The Best Spaghetti You’ve Ever Had.

Dinner conversation is filled with effusive compliments to the chef from everyone. Or, you, at least. Sans is complimentary, but you’re not sure he has it in him to be effusive, and Buddy literally couldn’t speak.

He’d stared puppy-dog-eyes at everyone still eating and drooled a considerable puddle into his bowl after he finished his kibble, though, which was…sort of a compliment?

At some point, the topic of work had come up and Papyrus spoke a bit about his part-time job at the home improvement store. You learned that he was exceedingly coveted in the lumber department for his ability to just pick up giant boards and planks when it took several of his smaller human coworkers to accomplish the same task.

You also learned that one of said coworkers had mentioned she had negative vacation time allotted. “…And I Was Sure To Clarify If She Was Speaking Hyperbolically, But She Was Entirely Serious. Negative Time Off! I Feel Like That Shouldn’t Be Allowed, Don’t You?”

Taking off so many days that you owe your employer your time? “That doesn’t seem right,” you agree. “It feels kind of shady of your boss to allow that, but I don’t know. I can’t really imagine taking that much time off that I’d be in the red. The last time I took off was…ha, well, that week our manager forced me to take off, right before you started, Sans.”

You realized that somehow, that story had never come up when Sans looked at you with wide eye-sockets and a dawning grin. “wait, wait, hold up, she made you go on vacation? like she told you that you had to stay home for a week?” At your confirmation, he snickered. “oh my god, that’s the funniest thing i ever heard, that’s so you.”

You weren’t blind to the humor in the situation. You laugh at yourself a little along with him, but Papyrus interjects.

“I Would Never Take A Vacation!”

The conviction in his tone gives you pause. “Wait, really? Never?”

“Not For Any Reason!”

Sans chuckles. “you’re so intense, bro,” he said fondly. “it’s awesome.”

“…Well, now, I kinda want to make you go on vacation,” you admit.

You recognize the hypocrisy—you had certainly never really wanted to take time off when you had so much you felt you needed to do at work—but something about Papyrus’ firm stance just gave you the urge to be contrary.

Besides, it isn’t as if these skeletons don’t deserve a break or a trip or something. They’ve been up here for more than a year and haven’t gone anywhere else? That’s just a damn shame!

If you knew these guys at all, though, you knew you’d never get them going anywhere if you couldn’t convince Papyrus first. Sans was a homebody in the extreme and you’d need his brother on board to have any hope of dragging him somewhere out of his way.

“Isn’t there someplace you’d want to go?” you ask Papyrus. “Just to visit? Anywhere at all?”

“None Come To Mind!” Papyrus insists. “And I Certainly Wouldn’t Want To Request Time Off For It!”

You think you have your plan, at those words.

“You don’t work weekends, do you?”

Sans props his elbow on the table, looking casual but his hand is suddenly covering as much of his ever-widening smile as possible. He’s clearly already figured out where you’re going with this, and you’re grateful he’s sorta trying to shut up about it.

“No!” Papyrus answers, almost petulantly. “They Wouldn’t Let Me. And I Don’t Have Any Classes Either, Weekends Are The Worst! There’s Only So Many Weeds I Can Pull In The Garden Until There Aren’t Any More Weeds To Pull, And The Best Soap Operas Are Only During The Week, Which Is Prejudiced Somehow, I’m Sure!”

“I don’t work this weekend, either. We should do something. Y’know, for the sake of doing something instead of just laying around all weekend.”

Papyrus squints at you. You realize he’s also figured out what you’re up to.

“……Hmm, A Trap, Obviously. And Not Even A Very Clever One, I’m Afraid. You’re Clearly Trying To Trick Me Into Some Sort Of…Vacation-ry.”

“Is it really a vacation if you don’t take any leave for it, though?” you debate. “If you drove somewhere for a couple hours and then came back, you wouldn’t call that a vacation.”

“Alright, Definitional Nuance, Getting More Clever,” he concedes. “And Where Would This Hypothetical Not-A-Vacation Take Place?”

“Maybe that could be a surprise?”

You’ve never seen Papyrus look pissed before. “Ooh, Curses, I Love Surprises! Alright, Fine! You’ve Shanghaied Me, But Only If I Get To Drive!”

Fantastic, you hated driving distances. “Deal!”

Dinner ended and Papyrus went around collecting the dishes to wash—but this part he insists is the host’s duty and encourages you to sit with Sans and bask in the glow of a delightful dinner.

You can’t even make a sassy remark at that, it really was delicious. Instead, you plop yourself down onto the plush couch cushions right next to Sans.

“And Stars Above, Sans, Entertain Them!” Papyrus admonishes his brother. “You’re Technically A Host, Too, You Know!”

“yikes, that raises a whole host of problems”

You snicker.

“Oh My God, That Wasn’t Even Good! You’re Lucky They Like You!”

And with that way too accurate final statement that you hope nobody is thinking about as hard as you are, Papyrus was back off to the kitchen.

“Don’t listen to him,” you say to Sans, “I think you’re funny.”

“oh don’t let ‘im fool you, he does too,” Sans says, winking like he’s letting you in on a secret. “he just hates to give me an easy laugh. wants me to put more effort into my jokes instead of goin’ for the low-hanging fruit.”

“Sounds like he’s not berry grapeful for your zesty sense of humor.”

“it’s enough to make a guy meloncholy,” Sans agreed. “it’s the pits, actually, but I understand his raisining.”

You laugh and then a brilliant idea strikes you. You hurriedly whip out your phone and gesture for Sans to come closer so he can see your screen.

He watches over your shoulder as you pull up your contacts list and change ‘Papyrus’ to ‘PAPaya.’

Sans laughs, his deep baritone laugh that you can physically feel, especially when he’s sitting so close to you. It hits you anew how goddamn big he is when you realize that even though you’re sitting down on the same couch, the top of your head doesn’t even clear his shoulder.

“Is it ever weird for you?” you blurt, suddenly curious. Sans doesn’t answer, but his expression goes confused. You quickly add, “Being friends with me, I mean.”

That didn’t seem to clear anything up. “…because… you’re human?”

“No, no, the… the size difference. Is it weird?”

“oh. i dunno, i never thought about it before?” He scratches at his cheek a little, pondering the new concept. “i mean, most humans i met have been kinda small. i don’t think you’re that much different….”

You feel like he’s not giving the matter the appropriate amount of consideration. Driven by the need to prove your point, you wordlessly take his hand and flatten your palm against his.

(It’s definitely for size-comparison reasons. It has nothing to do with wanting to hold his hand.)

As soon as his big red eye-light falls on the sight of your hands pressed together, he snorts and starts laughing again. “oh my god, never mind, i take it all back, you’re teeny, what the fuck.”

“I am not, you’re just huge!”

You must not have said it very convincingly. “i can almost close my hand,” he giggled. “oh my god? this is hilarious.”

His fingers fold over yours a little bit and you definitely don’t spend an inordinate amount of time thinking about the way it feels. It seems like all the scrapes and nicks you were expecting on his skull are down here instead and the scratchy roughness is a fascinating texture against your skin. You’d love to explore it more, but friends didn’t really stroke each other’s hands just because, and you don’t want to be weird.

You pull your hand away. “Come on, don’t be a jerk about it!” you say, shoving away from him playfully.

“aww, okay, you’re right, i’m sorry.” He grabs your sleeve and tugs you back toward him. “c’mere, bring it in, apology-hug.”

You hug him.

It’s almost like being totally enveloped in him— he’s unfairly huge and his arms around you practically block out everything else, even when your own arms can’t even reach all the way around his broad-set rib cage. You do your best and find that his bones are hard against your body, which you’d expected, but not poking anywhere or really even uncomfortable, which you hadn’t.

He’s warm and he smells exactly like you’d have guessed he smelled, like ketchup and dryer sheets, but surprisingly, it isn’t gross. It’s…homey. Comfortable.

You’re a little startled by how much you like it and the thought makes you realize you don’t actually know how much time has passed since this hug started.

Has it been just a few seconds or more than a few seconds? He’d have nudged you away if it was too long, right?

Should…should you pull back first?

Is this awkward now?

Sans seems to answer all of your questions in one fell swoop…by setting his chin down on top of your head to emphasize how tiny you are.

Clearly his plan all along.

“Oh, you fucker, get off me!”

You wriggle out of the hug and he lets you go. One brief second of eye-contact is all it takes to set you both off.

The two of you are laughing like loons by the time Papyrus comes back from doing the dishes.

He proceeds to tell you all the proper hostly things— that it was a lovely evening, and they loved having you over, and you all must really do this again sometime, future Not-A-Vacations notwithstanding—and you know it’s about time for you to be heading out.

It’s getting late and it’s a weeknight, so you and Sans have work in the morning and Papyrus has an early class to attend, so you completely understand. Papyrus gives you a wonderfully large tupperware of leftover spaghetti to take home with you and walks you to the door with Buddy trailing after you.

You say your goodbyes to him, and to Papyrus, and you turn to Sans to do the same.

He cuts you off.

“hey,” he says, leaning casually against the wall like the coolest guy in school in every teen movie and staring down at you with lidded eyes. “can I come with?”

Oh boy. Wow.

As it turns out, you are not prepared for the things you feel when you’ve got your crush looming over you, asking to come home with you for the night.

“Uh….” You try your hardest to cover how flustered you suddenly feel and let your mouth fill the awkward space. “I, uh, I wasn’t really planning on doing anything else tonight? I was really just gonna go home and sleep, I feel like there are, heh, better times for a hangout?”

Sans laughs and for one terrifying moment, you thought it was at you. “nah, no, you’re right,” he says. “sorry, i literally just meant coming to your house, wasn’t plannin’ on staying more than a minute.”

Your confusion is apparent enough that he continues. “you’ve seen me take shortcuts, right?” he asks. “y’know, when i’m someplace and then i’m not, ‘cause i’m someplace else?”

Oh, yeah, that neat little trick. “Yeah, I’ve seen you do it a couple times.”

“well it only works if i been somewhere before. so if i tag along with you, you can leave your car at home next time an’ i can just drop you off.”

Right. Yes, obviously, that makes sense.

“Convenient,” you say out loud. “Sure, let’s go.”

The drive home isn’t nearly as awkward as you worried it would be.

It’s actually… very nice.

You don’t talk much because you’re feeling a lot of feelings that need some time to be processed, but it wasn’t like Sans was talking, either. The pleasant weather was holding strong and you had the windows down, so the skeleton in your passenger seat was leaning against the door and staring totally absorbed at the moon while the warm night air blew past his skull.

Even in mostly uninterrupted silence, you find that you just feel comfortable with Sans and that’s something you really like.

You get home almost too quickly and Sans asks if he can come inside, “just to see the place, real quick, you know me, last thing i wanna do is stand between you and sleep.”

You didn’t have time to clean up or anything before you left the house, so it’s not as neat as it could be, but you don’t feel particularly embarrassed. You’ve seen enough photos of the inside of Sans’ room to know there’s no comparison.

Your house is just your house, not very big or painfully small, not insanely messy or hyper-clean. You feel like it’s an accurate reflection of you: just average.

“Got what you needed?” you ask Sans. “Is this enough for you to…shortcut? Or whatever?”

He seems to consider it. ��let’s find out,” he says. “what time do you leave in the morning?” You tell him. “cool, I’ll pop over tomorrow, you can give me a ride to work.”

That seems…so unnecessary for somebody who can literally teleport.

You almost tell him so but he shoots you a wink and shortcuts out right before your eyes.

You take a deep breath and huff it out in one long exhale.

After a minute, you go to put the leftover spaghetti in the fridge before you forget about it.

It would be a shame to let Papyrus’ cooking go to waste just because you were getting all tied up in knots over his unaccountably charming brother.

Prev Chapter | Next Chapter

#fur a good time call #fanfiction #undertale #sans #sans/reader #horrortale #ht!sans #ht!papyrus #myfic #papyrus

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zaraegis · 6 years

Text

Over 2k Words of Elaborate Undertale Headcanons

There are like, a lot of these, and getting them into words was kinda hard

that is why it took so long

also this is five pages in Word so longpost under cut

firstly: the Void and inventories-this is largely adopted from scrollingdown’s headcanons

there is a place, or nonplace, or metaphysical state of (non)existence, called the Void. the Void is not real. Like, that’s its defining feature; it’s where paradox flotsam and reset timelines and things that aren’t real go. The universe’s garbage bin and error handler and general catchall for things that need to exist for causality reasons but don’t. And where all sorts of various random nonsense are, because everything in the Void can change, and interact with other things in the Void, including itself, and twist and change or just not affect things it normally would.

That includes all the laws of physics and common sense.

The Void is where all the deleted/dummied out rooms are, along with the Gaster followers.

It’s also the location of inventories, and the ultimate source of all magic, which leaks into the world in lines and nodes and monster souls, and the souls of humans who’ve spent enough time around monsters or in areas charged enough with the kind of magic monster souls give off/have to gain magical ability.

Inventorying something is the process of using some DT and some magic/soul power to mess the metaphysical ‘tags’ of an object, dropping it into the Void. The DT is vitally important, as it forms into an 'anchor’, keeping the Voided item from changing properties and 'encoding’ a way of fixing the corrupted metaphysics and dropping the item back into reality at will, allowing the DT to be reused at any time.

The inventory-user 'claims’ a small bit of the Void with their DT, allowing for a certain number of inventory slots. The maximum size of an item that can fit in a slot, the number of identical items that can go into the same slot, and other inventory properties vary depending on the person.

The Box System is artificial inventories, which link to the soul of whoever is using the box to help them access their items.

Putting people in inventories is possible but requires a great deal of trust; the Annoying Dog suddenly being in Frisk’s inventory was probably a bad experience! Suddenly, there is a DOG in their SOUL VOID POCKET DIMENSION and it’s not even stasised it’s awake like a party member! And it stole Toriel’s phone and took it to the Void.

The Underground is less real than the Surface, allowing Frisk/Chara to SAVE and LOAD much easier and giving a lower threshold to the ability to use magic; post-pacifist Frisk probably went a few days unable to SAVE, not because of a lack of determination but rather because all their magic was tied up in keeping their inventory working, especially without Charrator helping them.

I had to include the Charrator pun it’s so amazingly bad.

The least real area in the Underground is Waterfall, which is kind of an eldritch location. There’s the giant plank structure nobody lives in, the Temmies which are reached by phasing through a wall and walking on air, all those deleted rooms and stuff, the echo flowers including the room full of them that creeps Papyrus out so much be pretends to be a voicemail, the alien geometries of the map (look up a map of Waterfall sometime; the Disproportionately Small Gap room connects two horizontally distant rooms…with a horizontally tiny room), the weird hydrology, Gerson who leans on the fourth wall all the time and has infinite cloudy glasses implied to have belonged to a fallen human, the weird puzzle rooms like the dog artifact, the dog that gets IN THE PLAYER’S INVENTORY WHAT THE HECK and gives you some kind of…inventory virus item?? where using it fills your inventory with more dog residue items and sometimes edible items that aren’t inventory virus items??

anyway…more weird Waterfall stuff…Gaster is here, for some reason, in a hallway that is usually not there-like you normally just, skip that hallway, walking from one end of it to the other without crossing the intervening space. The disappearing water is bizarre; nothing leaves the Underground so where is the water going? The plaques about monster history are just scattered at basically random, what the heck, why are they not all clustered on a wall or in a museum? What’s with the random abandoned statue that looks a lot like a Boss Monster that’s supposed to be holding something and is surrounded by shattered statue bits? It sorta maybe looks like a memorial statue, like the one that was in the CORE that Mettaton got rid of, but it’s just abandoned in Waterfall? Three of the four ghost monsters we see are definitely from or currently living in Waterfall, and ghosts are really weird.

And, finally: What’s with the giant black abyss in the middle of Waterfall? It’s like someone punched a hole through it into the black edges of the Void.

Or maybe that’s exactly what they did.

Gaster’s followers mention a risk of Alphys going the same way he did-which would be a really odd risk if the CORE is the creation Gaster fell into, as Alphys doesn’t really have much to do with the CORE.

It’s more likely to be something inventory-box related; Alphys links Frisk’s phone to two separate box systems, and she works with DT.

So: Alphys invented the box system. Gaster nominated her for his successor, stole most of the credit for her work, and created Something based on the box system, and it punched a hole in spacetime in the middle of Waterfall and took a significant and semi-randomly-distributed chunk of Waterfall out.

But why would he do that?

Maybe he was hiding something. Something big, and terrible, and he wanted people not in on his dark secret anyway to be unable to find out, and his attempts to erase it from the minds of others went horribly, horribly right.

In the True lab, there is a weird machine at one point. The weird machine has, as part of its design, what looks like a dark red SOUL-like the colour Frisk’s, and presumably Chara’s, flickers to during invincibility frames.

At no point does anyone in the game acknowledge that it looks like a SOUL.

It’s entirely possible that that SOUL is Chara’s, stolen by Gaster and used as part of the CORE-the part that intersects with the True Lab.

It’s not being used to break the barrier-probably for good reason; at the end of the Asriel fight, when he breaks the barrier, he notably says he’ll break it then let everyone go free, but lets all the souls go free as he breaks the barrier, as if doing so is a required part of the process.

Also, in the epilogue walkaround, all the coffins in Asgore’s basement tomb are open and empty. Chara was taken out of theirs to be buried in the Ruins, so that’s them accounted for; but it’s like all the other fallen humans got up after Asriel broke the barrier and walked away.

My headcanon for both those weirdnesses is that the Barrier was meant to be broken by willing human magicians working together-with all the human souls willing, and at least one alive. And it has a failsafe-smashing it open with only the souls of dead humans would result in it exploding or something and bringing down the cavern roof. So Asriel had to resurrect everyone and use their power to open the Barrier at the same time-and the Barrier would react noticeably and negatively different to the soul of a dead human, such as Chara.

Their SOUL was the only one checked against the Barrier after death, and it was assumed that the process of merging a single human soul with a single boss monster soul, and then the merged soul dying again and having the boss monster part of the soul disintegrate, damaged the soul somehow and made it unfit for breaking the Barrier with. So Gaster 'borrowed’ it for 'research’ and 'scanning’.

And just didn’t give it back, instead integrating it into the CORE.

A process which woke Chara up-and let them haunt anywhere the CORE’s light and power reached.

Gaster realized that he had an angry royal spirit haunting his power generation infrastructure, and this spirit might be able to figure out how to manifest properly and tell on him, or try to murder him. But he had a solution worked out. He’d toss their mind into the Void and make people forget all about them.

His machine was more unstable than he realized. It may have even dragged in beings from the world of Deltarune and given them bizarre powers; I’ve seen theories that the skelebros, or at least Sans, are from Deltarune, which would certainly explain why Sans has a concept of Hell.

Chara was partially forgotten. Most notably, their name was totally erased; nobody except for Flowey/Asriel, raised from the dead by a massive amount of determination (metaphysical inertia, stubbornness made substance, anchors in the Void) ever uses their name, and Frisk (who overpowers Flowey, DT-wise) can fill in the name-shaped hole in reality left behind. Asgore mostly remembers having only a son, and usually doesn’t mention his adopted child because usually he doesn’t consciously remember them. It takes many monsters working together to tell the story of the Royal Siblings in even a short format, since they have to overpower the memory effect.

Chara themself was slammed into unconsciousness and remained unconscious for, possibly, years.

Until Frisk lands on their grave, and a link between their souls is formed, waking Chara up.

(The technicians working on the CORE note that they’re using less of the CORE’s capacity than they have since Alphys became Royal Scientist. Chara feels better than they have since they were alive. And Frisk thinks that wow their ghost buddy narrator sure is draining like half their magic gain. Probably necessary to help with inventory management, SAVE point management, healing at SAVE points, and all those little illusionary head’s-up display and information box things.)

(Nobody except Undyne and Flowey remembers that there didn’t use to be a Waterfall Abyss. Undyne assumes that it’s no big deal, since nobody else cares about it. Flowey’s long since given up trying to make people remember anything about how weird Waterfall used to not be.)

(And the universe tossed a random related thing into the gap of why, exactly, Alphys was royal scientist.)

Incidentally some headcanons that aren’t part of that big headcanon tangle up above-

Mt Ebott isn’t the only place that monsters are sealed away. There might be monsters already living on the surface, from other barriers being broken; or maybe there’s a big road trip in the post-pacifist future of mage humans going around breaking barriers.

Different sealing locations have different monster demographics, different monster species, etc.

Most monster species have few members and little genetic diversity per sealed population, but they do have a lot of magic-based reproductive medical tech etc; using genetic data from members of one species to shuffle genetic data of a member of another species, asari-like, to allow for cross-species reproduction is a commonish thing, as is cross-species offspring carrying.

boss monsters are either a. the result of human-monster hybridization, or b. monsters that usually have litters of kids, not just one, but…big screwed up royalty family tree+terrible luck=toriel and asgore being the last two boss monsters in the Ebott Underground and then having a singleton child

also they’re all lop-eared as babies but most of them grow out of it, toriel and asgore are baby-faced

time on the inside of a barrier tends to pass differently from time outside of the barrier, usually slower (the barriers are meant as time capsules) but eventually the temporal gradient gets too much and it gets faster inside than outside

monsters still live in the underground post-pacifist; it only goes empty during Asriel’s boss fight. at first this is just, gotta get infrastructure and stuff set up, book hotels or whatever, logistics!! you can’t pack up and leave yet, citizens, it’s a whole day’s walk at a dog monster or human’s pace to the nearest town, there are logistics

and then it was like…the surface isn’t that much better, really? not that it’s bad more like the problems the Underground had were…mostly due to being sealed off, and it’s much better now there’s things like trade, and the option to move

and then there were also climate concerns and people going Actually I’ve Lived Here For 200 Years And I Don’t Want To Change or whatever (plus, also, Gyftrot)

and so the Underground became more sparsely populated but not empty. Some of the residents are humans, moved in from the Surface, as well.

all sealed monster populations are really good at things like recycling and so on. like they basically totally obsolete the local recycling plant in like two weeks and that was all setup time.

frisk is mascot not ambassador, asgore is not actually 100% right on what the word ambassador means in English since they’re keeping up on modern English based on what wound up in the trash and that includes phrases like “ambassador animal” so asgore, naturally, assumed the word had become something more like “mascot”

#undertale #meta #long post #submission

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theninjamouse · 6 years

Text

Ok guys, I’m gonna do a thing for you since you’ve all been so patient with me with the updates. It’s coming along, bit by bit but I still have a ways to go so! Under the cut there I’m going to give you guys a bit of a teaser and let you read the first page

For the first time since you started magic lessons two weeks ago, Undyne is late. Which is really weird because she’s never late. The one time she nearly was, she actually raced by you when you were walking down to Gerson’s and then acted like she wasn’t all sweaty and out of breath when you showed up a minute later. You’d be worried, but Papyrus had called you to let you know she was caught up at work so “START WARMING UP! ALSO! CONGRATULATIONS ON YOUR -AUDIBLE WINK- NEW SKILLS!”

He makes you promise to spar against him sometime when he’s not busy at his job. So, there’s another one to join the ranks of those who know about your powers. It’s probably a safe bet to assume Undyne told him about it. Or Sans. He’s absent from today’s practice, which is more usual. He tends to come and go, often times making you jump by suddenly speaking after teleporting in complete silence.

You honestly have a harder time reading the skeleton than you do with the man with a barely visible face.

Speaking of Grillby, he usually comes to your magic lessons whenever he can, offering advice or acting as a firm reminder not to push yourself too far. But today he’s up at the bar preparing for a massive birthday party happening for one of Hun’s relatives. There’s apparently going to be close to a hundred and fifty bunnies and other monsters all crammed into the bar celebrating. Which means a lot of preparation has to be done before they even arrive. You offered your help and he hesitated just a moment too long before waving your offer off with only a touch of glumness to his flames.

You’re still going to go check on him later.

So for now, it’s just you and Gerson on the beach. With Liam and Faith very eagerly watching you and making it much, much harder to focus.

“Liam, she’s gonna do the thing, she’s gonna do it!”

“Ohmygawd, she’s gonna do the thing.”

“I’m not gonna do anything if you keep squawking like that!” you snap at them.

They make a show of zipping their lips. Gerson had finally allowed them to come to one of your training sessions, albeit a little begrudgingly. He likes the two of them well enough, at least you think. But he’s not as fond of having an audience to the art of learning magic. He’d finally relented when Undyne added her vote of confidence in them, which made your heart swell with pride.

Faith and Liam of course jumped on the offer to come watch. But Tyler didn’t respond to the text at all. In fact, you haven’t seen him for a few days now and when you tried calling him, he just mumbled something about not feeling well and then hung up. You’re really worried about him but if he’s sick, it might be better to let him rest and not bug him for answers. Especially with the qualifying auditions for the contest just now over a week away.

Sighing, you turn back to focusing. It is getting easier, bit by bit. But it takes an insane amount of concentration which is really hard with an audience giggling and whispering right behind you!

Three orbs of water hovering in a slow-moving circle above your hands contract and then explode with your ebbing concentration, dousing your face with the resulting splash. You blow out heavily and blink through the dripping water.

“You’re thinking too much.” Gerson is grinning and motions for you to come out of the water. You splash up while Liam and Faith attempt to control their giggles.

“What do you mean I’m thinking too much?” you ask Gerson, turning your attention away from them. “If I don’t concentrate, I lose my grip on it.”

He taps your forehead. “What I mean is you’re obsessing too much on whether or not you can do it when you should be focusing on what you want to do. When you’re sparring Undyne and throw those shields up, the most powerful and steady ones are the ones that you don’t think about. You’ve got good reflexes kid.”

He suddenly swipes at you but it’s slow enough it’s easy to lean out of the way.

“But you need to support those reflexes with confidence.” He steps back and then he lifts his hand into the air. Water is pulled seemingly from thin air and it circles around his stubby fingers and wrist. Pure delight makes a wide smile lift your face as you watch him pass the stream of water from one hand to the other. It flows like a serpent, chasing his fingers. “Give me a shape,” he calls to the other two.

“Uuuuh, rabbit!” Faith responds.

The water shifts and suddenly a rabbit forms, glistening and clear. It immediately bounces through the air, trailing little droplets of water.

“Another!”

“Eagle!” Liam supplies.

The bunny melts for just a moment and then an eagle bursts from the mass of water. It soars upwards and catches the light of the sun. For a moment it hovers there and then it angles down towards you. Your eyes shoot to Gerson and he puts his hands out, palms up.

“Catch it.”

What? You don’t even have time to respond before the water eagle slams into you and explodes, dousing you.

Without hesitating, Gerson makes another one though this time it stays in a snake like stream. “Catch it,” he repeats, sending it shooting towards you.

You put your hands out, bracing yourself. It splashes against you.

“Catch it.”

Again and again, Gerson sends streams of water towards you and you try your best to catch it but it’s hard, it’s moving too fast for you to direct your magic in time. Not to mention, the one time you do manage to sort of brush against it, you can immediately tell that it’s not like regular water. This water was born from Gerson’s magic and carries a strange sort…lightness to it that’s hard to describe. The shock of that makes you lose you grip and once again you’re doused.

“You’re overthinking!” Gerson finally calls, sending the tenth stream of water your way. “Just catch it!”

“I’m trying!”

“Don’t try! Do it!”

Liam gasps. “Do or do not!” he calls to you with an utterly infuriating gleeful grin on his face. “There is no try!”

You’re actually so mad you could hit him. But…oh heck, if this works-! You scowl and shoot your hands out as Gerson sends another stream of water at you and let yourself let go of focusing and just catch it.

You catch it. Liam and Faith leap to their feet, screaming and cheering. You grin proudly and turn your attention to the water in your hand. You’re connected to it and like the brush before, you can tell that this water is different. Now that your magic is setting in to it, you can feel Gerson’s magic giving way under the simple presence of your power.

Gerson nods, his simple show of approval. “Can you feel the difference?”

“Yeah.” You lift your hand and direct the water to circle your wrist, much like it was with Gerson. “It feels lighter.”

“And why?”

“Because…it’s not ‘real’ water, right?” You bounce it from one hand to the other. “It’s created directly from your magic. Like substitute meat or imitation chicken. It looks and acts like the real thing but it’s not.”

“And why would it be a bad idea for you to do the same thing?”

This one you know. He’s drilled it into your head every time you practice. “Because human magic is naturally more physical than monsters. So the more magic heavy a spell is, the more of a strain it puts on the mage.”

With time and practice, you could supposedly learn how to do it, once you learn how to control the amount of magic being used to the very last speck. It’s a shame, this magic substitute water is so much easier to control. But then again, it’s not really your magic. So the issue isn’t necessarily controlling the magic, it’s making sure you’ve got enough and not using too much in one go.

“Turtle.”

“What?”

He nods towards the water. “Make a turtle. Don’t think!”

#OoF extra #I wrote quite a bit last night #but there are three 'acts' in this chapter and i've still got a ways to go

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keelywolfe · 5 years

Text

FIC: Conflict Resolution (baon)

Summary: Set after the events in 'Bedside Stories', Sans is the guy holding everything together. Mostly.

Tags: Kustard, Background Spicyhoney, Established Relationships, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Violence, Injury, Betrayal

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

~~*~~

Read it on AO3

Read it here!

~~*~~

It was kind of a shame that Red was so persnickety about anyone being in his living space, because hiring some professional housekeepers was about the only way his bedroom was ever going to share space with the word ‘clean’. There was always a clutter of dishes on the dresser, whose drawers always hung open, every one of ‘em more empty than not. The floor was more of a storage facility for dirty clothes than a place for walking, and the bed? Well. Sans’s learned some new curse words the last time Edge came over to take care of Red when he was boiling over with a fever, something something befouled and beshitted nightmare fuel, as Sans recalled.

The Edgelord always did have a way with words.

But Edge wasn’t gonna be able to offer a new turn of phrase today, not with his leg out of commission. That left Sans as the one to suck it up and get it done, and he brought fresh sheets over from his place, tossing the ragged ball of linens into the corner before he made up the bed. Papyrus would probably have a snarky thing or two to say about his hospital corners, but eh, right about now hospitality was more important than hospital, since he wasn’t about to get Red to go to one, anyway.

That’d been before he even headed over to Edge’s and Stretch’s to gather up his wayward bonefriend, before he knew he’d need to layer down about a dozen towels to sop up all that damn paint. As it was, he was probably going to be buying Paps some new sheets, if he didn’t want to endure an hour-long presentation on how to properly get stains out, Sans, are you paying attention, I spent a lot of time on this powerpoint!

Red’s hankering for privacy was currently taking one for the team in the form of the hulking Monster with a set of surprisingly delicate antennae who was currently leaning over him, the eerie glow of his healing magic lighting the room. Doc looked more than a little out of place, his nattily ironed shirt incongruous in comparison to the rumpled ones crumpled on the floor. But he’d hardly batted an eyelash when Sans showed up in his living room, only stepped right up and came along for a ride.

Not like Sans or Red had much of a choice about it. Had to bring in a ringer, ‘cause the hospital was off the table and if there was one thing Sans was shit at, it was healing. Edge was a little rough around the (heh) edges with it, but Sans never got the knack for it at all, an everloving shame because it do come in handy from time to time.

But if wishes were horses, there’d be a herd eating their way through the piles of weeds in their backyard. So Sans kept back, leaning against the wall next to an opened window smoking an unfiltered, and let the professionals handle it.

The once freshly-made bed looked like a murder scene and even knowing it was only paint didn’t make it look less disturbing. Sans kept watching anyway; Red wasn’t in any shape to keep a beady eye on the doc, so Sans would do it for him.

Seemed to take forever before the Doc leaned back with a sigh. “That’s all I can do for now, anything more will hurt more than it heals.”

Sans nodded. He knew that much about healing, anyway; you could only force the bones to knit so much before it took a turn in the other direction.

“thanks, buddy.” He crushed the barely smoldering butt out into an overflowing ashtray. The Doc didn't need a warning to keep this little incident under the table. He was old enough to know how this game was played and he wouldn’t be bringing it up during any others, not even when he was losing the latest round of checkers against old Gerson down at the corner store.

“No problem. I’ll stop by in two days to check, but the residual healing should carry him through. Now, I’m assuming you’d rather give me a lift home than have anyone see me coming out?” Doc shook his head with a grin as Sans held out a hand. “Don’t think so, you’ve fooled me once, twice, and three times a lady with that old rib-tickler.”

“heh, guess you already gave us a hand, you don’t need one of mine.” Sans tucked the whoopie cushion into his pocket and stretched out his arms, hands spread in a loose shrug. “okay, choose a spot to hang on and i’ll take you home. nothing below the belt, or i’ll have a bone to pick with ya.”

Shortcutting the Doc home and back only took a moment. Red hadn’t moved while he was gone, sprawled out mostly bare on the stained towels, sockets closed. Between the Doc and himself, they’d stripped Red down to his shorts. Some of the paint was scrubbed away but there was still plenty to go around. No way to clean him up any better without a long soak in a bathtub and a stiff brush, but that’d have to wait. The heater was already cranked up, both their bones appreciated it a little on the tropical side, especially ones as beat up and scarred as Red’s.

He’d had 1 HP coming in from Underfell, slowly ticking up to five on this side of the mirror, and some days it was hard not to think of that, tracing the ridged scars on his rib cage with tongue and teeth, wondering at how they hadn’t killed him. He had a coupla new ones now and the stark white blemishes would eventually fade to match the rest. Eventually.

Sans sat down next to Red, uncaring of the filthy towels and sheets, studying his face. Beneath his sockets looked deeply bruised, more bruises mottled around his freshly healed bones. He stank of oily paint and sour sweat, the smell of it practically baking out of him and a good excuse to leave the window open for a while longer. He looked asleep, should be asleep, but Sans knew better.

True to form, Red didn’t open his sockets as he asked, “did you find him?”

“right where you left him. bastard was kinda hard to miss.” Sans lit another cigarette, inhaled the smoke, then held it against Red’s mouth, letting him take a drag. He coughed it back out, rolling onto his side while Sans watched impassively, exhaling a nicotine-drained cloud of his own, “red paint, really? that’s not a pun so much as a bad fashion statement.”

Red rasped out a laugh, took another drag when Sans offered it. “best i could do. probably not too many would think to check that old storage shed in old new home. surprised he did, he ain’t that smart. must’ve figured out i was onto him somehow and was lookin’ for a decent hidyhole.” His sharp-toothed smile widened. “red paint. think they had it set aside cause they’d planned on repainting the school this summer. if i’d known it would offend your aesthetics, woulda aimed for the whitewash, but the universe has to have its jokes too, i guess.” He scratched at his healing ribs with a groan, until Sans swatted his hands away before he could undo all the work Doc just shoved into him. “fucker was a lot tougher than he looks. even harder to take down if i didn't want to dust him, ‘specially without paps.” Red’s sockets slit open, faded crimson peering out. “i ain’t bad with the control, but i was too pissed this time. fucker almost got them all killed.”

“yeah,” Sans agreed. For trying not to dust him, Red did plenty of damage. He’d pulled the security tapes, even a lonely storage shed had them, but they were next to useless. Too much magic flying around disrupted the recording. Probably for the best, Sans didn’t really need to see it. Hearing it was bad enough and he’d turned off the tape the first time he heard bone breaking with a sickening crack.

Their traitor had been bruised from ankle to eyebrow, or at least every part of him that wasn’t covered in paint. They’d found him right where Red left him before his hop/skip to the other side of town for some emergency healing, unconscious and still pinned to the wall with a seething fester of bones, HP slowly ticking downward with karmic retribution.

What Sans didn’t bother mentioning to Red was that his control was almost better than his own. He’d stood there too long looking at the unconscious fucker but seeing his own brother, hurt and so still in a hospital bed, a rage welling up from so deep it left him shaken.

He wondered with bitter humor what his therapist would think if he told her exactly what he was using her calming techniques for, breathing in through his nasal passage, out through his teeth, until that soul-deep rage turned into something manageable. She’d probably turn it around on him, get him to spill too much, more than he’d thought possible in that way she had. There was something to look forward to.

Truth be told, the anger was almost a relief. Something focused and real, better than his diffused fear and frustration whenever he looked at Paps, who was still in the hospital, doing better, yeah, better every day, but never should’ve been there to begin with.

Delayed reaction, maybe, or maybe only being face to unconscious face with the bastard who’d almost got his brother senselessly killed.

Red was never as oblivious as Sans might want, his gaze felt weighty and knowing as he asked, “what're they gonna do with him?”

“don't think it's been decided yet. normally treason is punishable by death," Sans said calmly, as if that wasn't a sentence usually carried out by the King's Judge. Asgore already knew he wasn’t taking on this one; he couldn’t, the idea of being impartial was laughable, obscene. "can't exactly have a trial. we don't need monsters or humans knowing that one of our own was spilling the beans to an extremist group of haters, trying to get all our ambassadors killed."

"yeah.” The world-weariness in that single word made Sans want to lean in closer, to touch, to hold, shit, he didn’t know. He didn’t have a chance, Red sighed and went on, “don't even know why he did it.”

“eh, jerry's always been a resentful piece of shit. edge recently transferred him down to the records department in the basement to work on his own, since there'd been some complaints about his attitude in his old department." Sans smiled thinly. "from what i hear, he threw some of that bitch stretch's way and our honey bun took it hard. that didn't go over real well with your bro."

“so what, he sold out his own kind because he's not happy with his job?" Red’s laugh was sharp enough to cut, if Sans let it.

“nope, he set them up because he's a piece of shit and don’t you forget it.” Sans’s eye light gleamed a brief flash of blue-yellow, filling the room, "i got a real good look at him and i ain't too keen on some of the ideas he had about others. coulda done without seeing his extended torture porn fantasies, for sure."

"yeah, go ahead and forget that shit. we do any torture porn, i expect the ideas to be original." Red’s sigh rattled through him, echoing that bone-deep weariness. “gonna have to figure out what to say to stretch, told him i’d let him know what went down.”

Sans raised a brow bone. Interesting. “you’re gonna tell him all this?”

“fuck, no,” Red said scornfully. “didn’t make no promises. just need a good cover story.” He slanted Sans an amused look. “makes two of us. you gonna tell me how you found me? i only sent you all directions to find our turncoat.”

Sans shrugged. “eh, it was easy. the tracker i stuck on you at the hospital started beeping when you were in range. i was already headed to the storage shed before your text, only had to switch gears when the location updated.”

The flutter of outrage across Red’s expression was a deliciously filling meal. “where the fuck did you—“

“please, hypocrite, the three you have on me aren’t just for show and i know it,” Sans yawned. “but if you can find ‘em, you’re welcome to take ‘em off. if. and we wouldn’t need a cover story at all if you’da come here to begin with, but noooo, you had to go fuck up your bro’s kitchen.”

Red only grinned, unashamed. “sorry, i was kinda flying on pure instinct, trying not to dust and all. sides, like you can fuckin’ heal? stretch kinda feels like getting smacked upside the soul when he does it, but at least he can.” The gleaming humor on his face faded, icing over. “you talk to asgore, you tell him solitary confinement is a better punishment. anything else is too good for that piece of shit. death ends it all and beatin’s gotta stop sometime. thoughts can go for an eternity and with a nice slot of attempted murders and two successful ones, i ain’t feelin’ charitable. he can think about it all for a nice, long time.”

Sans wasn’t feeling particularly philanthropic himself, but he only nodded agreeably. All his rage was burned off for the time being, burnt out in the harsh blurt of fear when he’d first seen Red cradled in his brother’s arms, before anyone saw Sans was there. He’d tamped it back down pretty fast, obviously Red was all right if his bro wasn’t sweeping him off the floor, but now he only felt exhausted. Emptied. Tomorrow he could work up something else to feel.

They sat together smoking for a time, only the sound of exhales and the occasional clack of phalanges as they traded the butt back and forth. Right about the time Sans was about to suggest Red give sleeping it off a try, Red spoke up again, gruffly.

“almost forgot. here.”

Where he pulled it from, Sans wasn’t sure, At first he didn’t even know what it was. Sure the light jangle of a buckle registered as it dropped into his lap, but it still took a minute to filter through his weary mind. Sans slowly picked it up, turning it over in his hands. A collar.

It was made of a narrow strip of plain black leather, the inside lined with a soft, velvety material in a shade of deep crimson. Simple, practical, for the most part. Until you hit the buckle and that was something else entirely; intricately wrought, etched with delicate scrollwork and in the shape of a heart. A soul.

Huh. Looked like he had room for another emotion today, after all.

Sans glanced at Red, but his sockets were carefully closed and so was his expression, puckered tight as Blue’s asshole, if he’d had one.

“you romantic, you.” Sans tossed it back into Red’s lap, the buckle clacking against his femur. He hoped it stung. “don’t think so.” He could feel the tension rise in Red, even though they weren’t touching, hovering over him like a midnight ghost, and let it strain for a moment before he added, “once you can sit up and put it on me yourself, then we’ll go there.”

“heh.” With one word, that tension dissolved. Red managed to get up on one elbow, and his grin was all jagged teeth, devouring. “c’mere.”

Sans leaned in, a little, but didn’t make it easy for him, made Red scootch in closer, nudging Sans’s chin up so he could reach. The rasp of velvet-softened leather circling his throat was an unknown quantity, and so was the coolness of the buckle, setting against his bones. He swallowed, felt the collar rise and fall against his cervical vertebra. The unfamiliar weight seemed heavier than possible, but eh, made sense. There was a lot more to it than the physical mass, now wasn’t there.

Certainly Red’s gaze had a weight of its own, resting on that thin strip of leather with hot intensity. “that what you wanted?”

“been wanting it.” he wasn’t ashamed to say it, happy to be safely selfish for once. “took you long enough, icebergs would win a race against your smooth moves.”

That heat leapt higher, crimson eye lights briefly sparkling like a gimcrack kiddie firework. Something might’ve come of it if Red hadn’t already had the shit beat out of him earlier. That heat only lingered a minute before it flickered out, faded, and Red sank back onto the mattress with a groan. He didn’t move when Sans shifted to lay next to him, uncaring of the still tacky paint smears surrounding them as he dragged up the ruined blankets.

His scoff was hoarse, thin, as Red said, “you takin’ a nap? you’ve got a ton of shit to do out there.”

Like Sans couldn’t hear the plea beneath it? He knew Red too well now; Red’d made a mistake, tipped his hand, and now that Sans knew his cards, he wasn’t about to fold.

He settled a hand on Red’s rib cage, fingers tracing over scars, old and new. “we’ve got an entire team handling it. shut up and go to sleep.”

Red’s ribs rose and fell with his rough chuckle, but it evened out quickly, fading into slow, even breaths as he took his orders. Sans slid a little closer, until they were pressed together from shoulder to femur. Not enough, but it’d do for now.

Once Red was out, Sans reached up to touch that buckle where it was nestled against his throat and already warmed by his body heat. He traced the shape of it for a long time.

Shit to do, yeah, Sans had plenty of it. Like right now, it was time to start waiting for Red to wake up, but that was fine.

Sans was patient.

-finis-

#Kustard #spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #by any other name

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ghouliday-music · 6 years

Text

To Save Those Who Can’t Be Saved Chapter 1

So I was planning on posting this to my AO3 and sharing the link here, but I just feel too worried to do so. I’m hoping by posting the first chapter of this here, on familiar ground, I’ll be able to relax enough to post it there.

In any case, I have no idea where this is going, beyond a basic outline of subplots I want to explore and an ending to work toward to, and therefore no idea if I’ll even finish this. But hopefully it’ll be entertaining for both you and me, and I’ll do my best to complete it. As a warning: if I do continue this, I won’t have an update schedule. I never worked best on a deadline, and all of us deserve better.

If you have any constructive criticism on what I have so far, please let me know! If I can’t use it on this chapter, I can always use it on another work!

To Save Those Who Can’t Be Saved

Work Summary: Frisk, Asriel, and Chara go back to Waterfall to solve the mystery of the lone statue sitting deserted in its halls. Along the way, they uncover more questions than answers, and find themselves forced to face their greatest faults and failures.

Chapter One: A Mystery Unfolds

Chapter Summary: In which a history assignment leads to questions that no one can answer, Frisk jumps to hasty conclusions, and Chara just wants to watch their show in peace.

Rating: T

Chapter Warnings:

Characters: Frisk, Asriel, Chara

“Chara, it’s my turn for the TV now.” Frisk crossed their arms and hoped they looked suitably stern.

Alas, it seemed like they didn’t. Chara’s eyes flickered toward them before they flitted back to the flashing screen. “I have just started watching my show.”

“For the third time today!” They dropped back down on the couch next to them, grinning with the force bumped Chara slightly into the air. Chara wove their fingers together in their lap, but beyond that showed no other signs of irritation.

“Chara’s watching The Tower and the Inferno again?” Asriel walked into the room, his nose crinkled in disbelief.

Frisk snorted. “Yeah.” They didn’t get the appeal of fantasy when they lived with magic-using monsters now. And since the show was made and ended before monsters returned to the surface, the magic was all just special effects, and was nothing like the real thing.

Okay, maybe it looked a little like it, even if it wasn’t a form of expression. At least in most cases.

But still. Three episodes in one day was ridiculous.

And Frisk really wanted to watch something funny. The Tower and the Inferno was way too serious. Frisk had watched an episode once and only laughed twice.

“What can I say.” Chara inclined their head so slightly Frisk wasn’t even sure they’d moved on purpose. “It gets me fired up.”

Frisk stuck out their tongue as Asriel groaned and covered his face. “Seriously, you’re starting to sound just like Sans.”

Chara seemed unbothered. Their interest was completely absorbed by the green reptilian creature on the screen, making some dramatic speech about the wrongdoings their ally had committed. Something like that.

“Can I use the TV after this episode?” It was only fair, since Chara had already watched three episodes of their show that day.

“Yes.” A flicker of their eyes as they gave Frisk a sideways glance was the only movement they made. “I must warn you, though, that this is the hour long series finale.”

Frisk suppressed a groan. “How much longer is it?”

“I just started the movie ten minutes ago, so I would say approximately fifty minutes.” They looked bored as they said this.

Frisk slumped dramatically onto their side, draping an arm over their face. “That’ll take forever.” They weren’t truly bothered, beyond the slight inconvenience, but they knew it’d get their siblings to laugh.

Indeed, Asriel did laugh quietly, and while Chara didn’t make a sound the corner of their mouth twitched up. A victory, then.

“You’re acting like Mettaton,” Asriel said, shaking his head.

Frisk couldn’t help but smile at the comparison. “Thank you!”

Chara, not once glancing away from the screen, poked Frisk in the shoulder. “I do not believe he meant that as a compliment.”

Frisk halfhearted swiped at Chara's hand, uncovering their face in the process. “Don’t you have a special to watch?”

Chara’s shoulders lifted, just slightly, in the suggestion of a shrug. “Do you not have an essay to write for History?”

Frisk huffed. They did. But then again, so did Chara and Asriel, and while Chara was the kind of person who would complete an essay early, they knew Asriel probably hadn’t even started his, and Chara wasn’t calling him out.

“I don’t want to do it right now.” They prodded Chara’s leg with their foot. “I want to wait until you’re done watching this special, and then watch something funny.”

“What are you doing for your essay?” Asriel asked. Frisk noticed he looked slightly nervous, leaning forward slightly and not meeting their eyes.

Frisk shrugged. “I don’t know, but I’m thinking on writing about something in the Underground. Like that Waterfall statue?”

Asriel bit his lip. “You’d probably be better off choosing something else.” He gave Frisk a lopsided, almost nervous, smile. “Trust me. I’ve tried to find it out on a few of my…” He glanced around before continuing in a quieter voice, “…my resets.” He swallowed and continued speaking louder, but his body was still tensed. “Trust me. I asked everyone. Not even Mom and Dad knew. Not even Gerson. And they were in the Underground since the beginning.”

Frisk sat up. “What, not even they knew?” Gerson, sure, he tended to forget a lot of things, but their parents?

“They are monsters, not gods.” At least Chara had glanced over at them this time. The subject interested them more than Frisk had thought. “Asriel is right; you should change your topic.”

Frisk nodded. “Okay, I’ll change the subject, but what if I tried to find out more? On the side?” Surely their siblings couldn’t fault them doing more research.

Although Chara did look like they were considering faulting them. At least Asriel looked supportive.

“I suppose that Mother would encourage your education,” Chara said, after a moment, “but I do not expect for you to find anything, if Asriel could not.”

“You know, I didn’t really delve into that too much.” Asriel spoke slowly, his eyes facing his feet as if in thought. “I was more interested in, you know, the current time and stuff.” He grimaced and shuffled on the spot. “But maybe we can learn a little more if we dig into it? I mean, people don’t just make statues and leave them for people to see with no reason.”

Chara sighed. “Who knows? Perhaps someone was working on a statue and did not like how it was turning out and abandoned it. Perhaps the mystery was the point of the piece. In any case, what are the chances that the sculptor is alive now, and wishes to be known?” They turned their attention back toward the television, their hands linked together on their lap.

Asriel narrowed his eyes. “Well, trying wouldn’t hurt, would it?” He glanced back at Frisk, his eyes wide and almost pleading. “So, what’re you planning on doing?”

Frisk hummed and considered their options. If their parents didn’t know about it, and Gerson didn’t know about it, then how would they learn more about the statue?

Well, Mom did say that a good way to learn about stuff is to experience it yourself, they thought.

“I think we should go to Waterfall and look at the statue again. Maybe there’s something someone missed.” They realized as they said it that perhaps it wouldn’t be the plan that went over best with their siblings.

Indeed, Asriel was grimacing, and Chara had glanced away from their show to raise an eyebrow at them.

“And how, may I ask, are you going to convince our parents to take us, or to let us go?” Chara’s tone barely had an edge. It didn’t need to.

That was trickier. “I don’t know.” They shrugged. “I’ll ask, but…” They weren’t quite sure how their parents would respond. They loved their mother, but Toriel was quite protective, even when she didn’t need to be. If they managed to wait until the weekend, when they went to stay with their father, they could ask Asgore. However, the King was always reluctant to upset his ex-wife, and even if he didn’t think the trip back to the Underground was a bad idea, if he even suspected Toriel did he’d deny them the adventure.

So there was only one solution.

Frisk glanced around, but it seemed Toriel wasn’t around. She was probably working on making new assignments on her study, or something. Either way, she wasn’t around to hear what they had to say.

“You know that day off coming up, right?” They couldn’t help but whisper, even knowing their mother wasn’t around to hear.

“Yes, we do,” Chara said, hands tightening around each other until their knuckles paled, “and no, we are not sneaking out.”

Frisk pouted. They’d planned on whispering it all dramatically, like the kids did in the movies.

Asriel scratched at his budding horns, biting his lip. “I’d really like to check out that statue,” he said, and he did sound torn over saying it, “but Mom and Dad would get really worried if we snuck out to see it.”

“It’s not like anything bad is going to happen.” Humans stayed away from the place, and the monsters who hadn’t left, for one reason or another, wouldn’t hurt the crown prince, the ambassador, or former ambassador and fellow prinxe Chara. And it wasn’t like they were going to do anything bad on this trip. They were just going to learn. Even their mother couldn’t get mad at them for that, right? Especially if they came back before she or their father noticed.

“I don’t know.” Asriel still looked torn, shifting his weight from foot to foot. “Maybe we should ask them first before we do something drastic like that.” He shrugged and gave Frisk a clearly forced smile, the one that showed his gums.

Frisk crossed their arms, but admitted to themself that perhaps jumping to “sneaking out” was a bit drastic, even if they were pretty sure what their parents’ answers were going to be.

“Fine.” They pointed in Chara’s direction. “But it isn’t like we’d have been in any danger if we had. I could’ve always gone back a save if something bad had happened.” And they doubted that even Chara and Asriel would remember, if it did.

Chara inclined their head. “I was thinking along the lines if our parents did, somehow, find out we snuck back to the Underground without their permission.” They gave Frisk a loose smile that didn’t meet their eyes. “But if it floats your boat, then go ahead. That just means more time with the television for me.”

Frisk nodded. The feeling of not being able to turn back now they had somewhat of an idea of what to do, and where to go next, filled their heart. They took a deep breath, and relished the feeling of determination as it filled their limbs, making them feel larger, stronger, than they were.

With that in mind, they sat on the couch.

Asriel tilted his head. “Aren’t you going to ask Mom if we can go?”

Frisk nodded once, a sharp and decisive movement. “Yeah, but after my turn on the TV.”

After all, they’d already called their turn. Besides, the Underground wasn’t going to go anywhere before they could ask their mother if they could go.

Next -->

#undertale #undertale fanfiction #post pacifist #frisk #chara #asriel #saved asriel #saved chara #to save those who can't be saved #useless reptile writes #dreemurr siblings #dreemurr family

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yastaghr · 4 years

Text

Our Skeleton 34

This time on Our Skeleton radio: Let Flowey be Mean 2020!

The farmer wasn’t quite sure why this strange flower monster wanted to rent his goats for the day. They were just goats. They weren’t trained to do yoga or pose for pictures. They would eat anything and everything in sight, but hey! Who was he to turn down this much money for something so simple? If he did he’d be a fool.

It wasn’t until much, much later, when he saw the column in the next day’s paper just above the fold, that he had a clue. He wasn’t sure whether to be horrified or to double over in laughter. Laughter won. The article read:

WILD GOAT HERD RAMPAGES IN HILLSBURY HILLS Gardens were decimated today in the well-to-do neighborhood of Hillsbury Hills when a seemingly wild herd of Boer goats descended. The herd, at least 30 strong, mowed through grass, flowers, shrubbery, and other vegetation alike. Affected residents estimate that the goats did over $250,000 worth of damage in the space of a few hours. Police were called on the miscreants as soon as a local servant noticed the goats. By the time the officers in blue responded, though, the goats had vanished from the scene. They left devastation and a large amount of pellets in their wake. No clues as to their origins have been reported. However, the property managers have posted a $250 reward for information that leads to the arrest of the perpetrators. Information is to be reported to the city police. They can be reached at: (111)111-1111.

The farmer reflected on a couple of things as he reread the article. The first was regret that he hadn’t asked the strange flower’s name. The second was the likelihood, even if he did know that information, that the police would believe him. Then he wondered why, if the property managers were the ones who had posted the reward, the police were the ones who were collecting information. Wouldn’t that invalidate any ability to claim the prize? From there he reflected on the word ‘posted’. Nowhere did it say that the reward would actually be paid. Finally, he wondered if this strange flower was happy that his revenge had been so complete. Surely that kind of dedication to destruction should be rewarded with a little bit of loyalty? Say, enough loyalty not to snitch? Especially since the flower had returned his goats happy and safe. Yes, the farmer thought to himself, renting out his goats out was definitely worth it for today.

=====

A giant nest (or possibly a fort) of couch cushions, blankets, and pillows had sprung forth in the middle of the living room. At the moment it was mostly empty. Only Papyrus, Sans, and Frisk were in there now. The rest of the crew wasn’t far away, though. Everyone except Toriel was on the phone, spreading the news of their little human’s burden to all of their guardians, also known as all of monsterkind. Toriel was baking a celebratory butterscotch-cinnamon pie. Today’s honesty and revelations deserved it.

In the cuddle pile, Sans had his arms around Frisk, and Papyrus had his arms around both of them. Frisk’s hands were free so they could sign. “let me get this straight. you have this power to save and load, and you’ve never done something silly with it? come on, you can tell us. you have to have done at least one silly thing. i know i would have.”

Frisk giggled. [Okay, there was one thing. It was the first time I came through the Underground. I’d just gotten past you and I ran into Doggo. I wanted to pet him, so I LOADed a few times just to pet him more. I kinda did that with all of the Dog Squad, especially with Lesser Dog. If I had a hard time or got scared by someone else in Snowdin I would go back and pet him a bit. That usually helped calm me down.]

Papyrus nodded wisely. “AN EXCELLENT DECISION. I, TOO, HAVE FOUND MYSELF SEEKING COMFORT FROM SIMPLE THINGS. PETTING A DOG IS CERTAINLY ONE OF THEM. I BELIEVE YOU HAVE SPENT QUITE SOME TIME GETTING TO KNOW DOGGO’S NEW SEEING EYE DOG?”

[Yes,] Frisk signed happily, [She’s the best! I don’t bother her when she’s working, but when he’s at home he lets me spend time with her. I give her pets and we play with toys and we cuddle. It’s great!]

Sans blinked at his brother and Frisk, then smiled cheekily. “you could say she is doggone good, huh kiddo?”

Papyrus groaned. “SANS! THAT ONE WASN’T EVEN GOOD!”

Sans chuckled. “i know, bro. that’s why i like it.”

=====

Flowey considered the fine selection of knives, swords, and other cutting blades in his collection. They were all razor sharp, which is what he wanted right now. Cutting through fabric required a sharp edge. He considered which length would be best for this task. The swords would be too unwieldy. The daggers all were too thick for what he had planned. That left the knives. There were eight of them. He dismissed the ones with serration. That left four. He would be traveling under the ground for this trip, so he needed a sheath to keep the blade fresh. That left two. He decided on using the double edged one. That way if the first side went dull he could still cut. Plus it had a good heft to it, which he liked.

Once that was settled Flowey turned to his other armaments. In this case they were dye bombs, glitter bombs, and water bombs. Usually he used bombs that were a little more destructive, but he didn’t want to destroy anything, he just wanted to ruin them.

With all of that tucked in his inventory Flowey set out for the mansion. It was child’s play to sneak in. All of the servants were busy trying to repair the damage from the goats, and the two targets of his campaign were away at some kind of a party. That left the house empty for him to exact his revenge. He started in the upstairs closets. There were easily more than a hundred dresses and suits. He took great pleasure in cutting the fine fabrics into tiny little pieces. He didn’t make them even, either. He sliced at odd angles, cut in wonky curves, and generally made it impossible to sew the clothes back together.

Once he was finished with the clothes Flowey moved on to the other linens in the house. He shredded pillows, mattresses, bed clothes, curtains, towels, and rugs alike. When he was done it looked like a rogue confetti machine had been let loose in the house. He smiled wickedly. That was attack number two.

=====

“What are they doing now, Grillby?” Toriel asked quietly. Her hands were covered in flour to prevent the pie crust she was kneading from sticking to her fur. She’d made enough for three pies. She hoped that would be enough for everyone to get their piece as well as enough that anyone who wanted to have seconds could.

Grillby, who was standing in the doorway talking to her while she worked, turned around and peered over his shoulder. “..... My boys and Frisk….. are still in the fort. Gerson left….. to go talk to the monsters in the Underground. Asgore is still….. on the phone. Undyne and Alphys have….. finished their phone calls and are now cuddling. I believe they may….. be kissing.”

Toriel huffed. “I hope they are not doing so in front of Frisk. They are a child. Such a display of affection is not appropriate for them to view.”

Grillby chuckled. “Miss Tori, times have changed. It is no longer….. the fashion for children to be prevented from seeing….. kisses and hugs. It would not surprise me….. if they had already seen them. Perhaps you should ask? In any case….. Undyne and Alphys are allowed to kiss in front of them….. and so are you.”

She blushed. Why did he always know how to push her buttons? “I am more than satisfied as I am, am I not?”

“Yes…..” Grillby said slowly, “but are your datemates?”

Toriel froze. Were… were Asgore and Sans happy with this? Asgore could be incredibly affectionate. He loved to touch and kiss her. And Sans… Sans needed all of the love they could give him. But she could still hear the voice of Asgore’s mother screaming at them for daring to kiss in front of the younger guests at a party. It had hurt. Toriel’s parents never screamed at her, even when she had upset them. Toriel wanted to make Asgore’s mother happy… but she was dead now, wasn’t she? Why was Toriel still trying to please a woman who had died nearly 1,000 years ago?

“I will think about that, Grillby. I will do some research as to what is appropriate. Now, can you go get the filling from the fridge? I’m just about ready to lay this crust out in the tins to be filled.”

=====

With the fabrics thoroughly bombed and destroyed by Flowey’s hands he turned to his next task. He reached up to the curtain rod nearest him, now denuded of its usual burdens, and pulled it down. The hooks that held it to the wall clattered on the ground; in this case, it was the marble floor of the entrance hallway. Flowey offhandedly knocked them under the furniture with one stray vine. Then he turned to the rod itself.

It was child’s play to remove the finials from the end of the rod. They unscrewed quite easily. Flowey hoped (in a very detached way) that that didn’t mean that they changed out the ends on a regular basis. He wanted this prank to haunt them for as long as possible.

With the finials off, Flowey pulled out his secret weapon: a whole platter of cocktail shrimp. He popped the lid off and grabbed three of the shrimp. One went in his mouth. The other two went, one each, into the open ends of the curtain rods. There they would rot, slowly and surely, and give off a haunting scent that would not be cleared until the curtain rods were replaced. The servants would, of course, be blamed. But Flowey knew that most of them were there under threat to their family. Losing this job would be freedom for them, so if Frisk ever asked he could truthfully say that they weren’t suffering because of his actions. Frisk cared about stuff like that. He had no idea why.

After planting the shrimp Flowey screwed the finials back on the ends of the curtain rod and dropped it carelessly onto the floor. That let him move on to the next curtain rod. And the next. And the next.

=====

“Move your elbow, Papyrus. I swear it feels like you’re all bones,” Undyne complained. She was currently in a giant cuddle pile. Everyone, from Toriel and Asgore to Frisk and Sans, was in the fort. They could generally be described as a giant heap.

Papyrus obligingly moved his arm, resting it instead on Grillby’s knee. This dislodged the Annoying Dog’s head. No one had any idea when he had shown up. He just did. Papyrus had sighed and grudgingly allowed the mongrel to stay. “BUT, UNDYNE, I AM MADE OF ALL BONES. I AM, IN FACT, A SKELETON!”

She snorted. “That doesn’t mean you have to feel like it. Do that thing where you go all fuzzy! I know you can do it. Sans is already doing it!”

Asgore’s voice rumbled into the conversation. “That would, in fact, be my head, Undyne.”

“Oh,” She said, sounding disappointed.

Sans decided to join in. “that doesn’t mean we can’t do it. it’s just kinda tricky when there are so many people around. it’s easier when there’s only one or two.”

Alphys mumbled, “... Vector matrix of magical signatures…”

“yup,” Sans said. His ear was currently pressed up against Alphys’ mouth. “that’s it exactly. you got any tips to overcome the gradient issue? pap is better at resolving it than me, but he’s never been able to explain how he does it.”

Alphys blushed. Undyne, whose hand was on her shoulder, squeezed it. “Go ahead, babe. You got this science sh...ip.”

The doctor snorted out a laugh. It was more of a hiccup than a snort, but snort made more sense. “O...kay. Well, I don’t what what you’ve, um, tried? But when I had to consolidate the differential between Mettaton’s magic and that of the power grid in order to charge his magic I, um, found a vector that’s perpendicular to the average of the other two vectors and projected them onto it? That resulting vector, the one that was the difference between the projections, was easier to handle. I just sort of… inversed it? I can’t remember what that’s called, but-”

“that’s genius, alph!” Sans interrupted enthusiastically, “i can just…”

A beat passed. Then Grillby smiled. “You have….. achieved your goal, Sans. You are now….. quite fluffy. Papyrus, do you understand….. what he’s done?”

Papyrus shook his head, dislodging Frisk’s foot. “I DO NOT, BUT I KNOW WHAT I NEED TO DO TO BECOME FLUFFY LIKE HE JUST DID. I NEED TO DO THIS! UM… IT DIDN’T WORK. DID IT?”

“Yeah it did! Right on, nerd!” Undyne cheered.

“I must admit,” Toriel commented, “that is one skill I have never seen on another skeleton monster. Do you two know where it comes from, by chance?”

It was Grillby who answered. “I am afraid it comes from….. me. I will admit I tried to teach them….. how to show their magic more….. but I taught them as if they were fire elementals. We can control how hot our flames are….. so I assumed their magic would work similarly. This….. was the result.”

“Oh!” Toriel said, “That is interesting. I wonder if there are other abilities like that that different monster types have that they don’t know about. I wonder how we could learn…”

“when you get your school you might learn. you’re going to be teaching all kinds of different monsters and humans, right?” Sans pointed out, “you’re bound to discover a hidden ability or two. especially with the humans in the mix. humans have such weird magic, right frisk?”

Frisk, who was on top of the entire pile with a quite relaxed expression on their face, signed, [Humans don’t have magic, Sans.]

Asgore chuckled. “My dear child. Humans have always had magic. You cannot live without it. It just manifests differently than monster magic. I believe, for example, that your magic controls these SAVEs and RESETs. Rodger’s magic is that of his ability to see ghosts all the time. He’s told me about several ghosts in the area that I didn’t know about, including one that seems to follow you.”

Frisk froze. Everyone else didn’t seem to notice. Well, except for Papyrus, who Frisk was laying on. But he didn’t press. Maybe he decided that Frisk was allowed to keep some secrets, just like he and Sans were. Everyone should have a secret or two.

“That’s very nice! Humans can be very judgmental about that, can they not?” Toriel said.

“They can. I am glad he…… felt safe enough with you to share,” Grillby said quietly. “Terrance has told me….. that he worries about Rodger. He seems afraid of the teachers at the school you used to attend, Frisk. Perhaps we should try and convince Terrance and Leopold to enroll him at your school, Miss Tori.”

“That sounds wonderful! He is a delightful child with wonderful parents. I would be happy to have him as a student,” Toriel said, sounding delighted. Everyone in the room knew how much this school meant to her.

“heh. how many more weeks is it until school starts again? i know we’re getting close,?” Sans said with a smile.

“The school opens for students in 8 weeks, but the other teachers and myself start work in seven. I have already begun planning my lessons. Frisk has been helping me, have you not, my child?”

Frisk knocked enthusiastically. [Yes. I’m the fun checker! I have to make sure that every lesson includes something fun!]

“WOWIE. THAT IS AN IMPORTANT JOB, BUT ONE THAT I AM CERTAIN YOU WILL DO WELL! JUST LIKE YOU ARE AN EXCELLENT HERO, FRISK. AND AN EXCELLENT FRIEND!”

Everyone nodded their agreement. That was true. Frisk was the kind of person who could (and would) be friends with everyone. Who knew what they would befriend next?

=====

With all the shrimp successfully hidden in the curtain rods Flowey moved on to his last prank. Well, extremely mean hearted payback. That was the same, right? It was to him.

He pulled out the little tube-like trigger thingy. He’d only ever seen it used to dispense guacamole, but he definitely felt like that wasn’t the original purpose. It looked kind of like a giant hot glue gun without a cord. He’d bought it at a home improvement store from an old man in a yellow apron. The apron was the same colour as his petals, a fact that the old man couldn’t shut up about. Flowey had never heard anyone so chatty in his life.

Lifting himself up to the level of the handle was harder than he thought. It was only a few feet. A few frustrating feet. When he reached the door handle he clung to it, bending the lever down a bit. That was fine. Any position would work for what he planned.

Flowey carefully lined the tip of the little trigger thingy up with the opening of the lock. He pressed the trigger for a few seconds, forcing the hard-setting epoxy into the locking mechanism. Only when it started to overflow did he stop. He put the tube back in his inventory, lowered himself to the ground, and slithered off to find the next door with a lock he could destroy. He couldn’t help but chuckle to himself as he did so. The Revenants had no idea what was coming to them.

#sansgoriel #flowey #sans #papyrus #frisk #alphys #undyne #toriel #grillby #asgore #gerson #yastaghr

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